Saturday, September 26, 2009

It's Gonna Be Good

Hi there. So tomorrow's the flea market, and due to the 100% chance of rain that's been predicted for tomorrow, it's been moved to the Roseland Ballroom on 52nd Street. Well, that'll be...crowded. But all the current Broadway greats plus Bernadette Peters under one roof? Epic. Now, as I sit here and drown my sorrows in sweet and sour chicken, and wondering how anyone could possibly find Emilie Autumn entertaining, I'm starting to formulate a plan. I'm feeling some Next to Normal for tomorrow evening, possibly. I think we all know by now that I'm a self, conniving, calculating, horrible person. Maybe this horrible little girl will be able to get herself to the Booth. But we'll cross the bridge when I distract the guy who's guarding it.

Now... on to Emilie Autumn. Most of you probably haven't heard of her. Neither had I, until about an hour ago. She's a singer, but she looks and acts like someone who just strolled out of a mental institution and onto the stage. (There will be no Alice Ripley jokes here, thanks.) Seriously. Look up some Youtube videos of one of her concerts. She's a loon, and she seems to be relying on some kind of bizarre "Victorian asylum for wayward girls" concept. Oh, I get it. You're edgy. You think by glorifying mental illness you can show the general population just how anti-establishment you really are. She also claims to have once been subjected to a mental hospital herself. Somehow I doubt that's true, but what a darling little addition to the facade. Anyway, let's just let sleeping loonies lie, okay?
Okay. Good. Since the flea market has been moved to an indoor location, I'm predicting some type of madhouse, brimming with vicious fangirls and gay men who will simply NOT let you get to that Hello, Dolly RP first! I thinkin' I'm gonna have to strap on my crazy boots for this one, and wear shoulder pads. 'Cause ain't nobody else getting my Sunday in the Park Playbill, and don't care how many bitches I have to cut to get it. Okay, that was a little much. In the event of a death match, I think I'll pack up my apples and go back to the garden. Still, last year I arrived home with my arms laden with trinkets and useless stuff that meant the world to me. I hope this year isn't any different.
So step off, folks. Nobody messes with a short brunette who's armed with a BC/EFA tote bag and fierce determination.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Momentous Day

Today is September 23. Do you know what that means?

1. A month until Ragtime starts previews.
2. Three years since the second time I saw Hairspray.
3. Lansbury officially going into Night Music.
4. Three years since I first discovered Colony. I would be a very un-sheet musicked person if I didn't.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

The Hit List

Welcome back, suckers. I think I have a fever, which would explain why I'm sitting here talking to you fine people instead of sitting in a crowded classroom digesting government propaganda. Have no fear, friends. I never let school interfere with my education.

So Sunday's the flea market, and the unofficial start to my winter Broadway season. I haven't booked anything yet, but I'm thinking this is what's gonna be on the docket:

Streetcar with Cate Blanchett
Superior Donuts
A Little Night Music
Next to Normal

As you can see, I'm going pretty deep and dark this time around. And, much as I'm fighting it, I know sooner or later I'm going to end up at Bye Bye Birdie. This is not okay with me.

Next: The 39 Steps is finally closing. I don't wish harm on anybody or any show, but I will say this: About freaking time. On another note, it was confirmed today that Angela Lansbury is going to be in Night Music. I am so happy I could just jump up and click my heels together. Except I won't, because I know for a fact I can't do that. Seriously. I tried it once, and it didn't end well.

Yesterday afternoon, I made the fatal mistake of telling someone I've never seen Beauty and the Beast. I think this person is now convinced that I had a deprived childhood. Trust me, folks, I didn't. Baby Blogger was too busy belting Tomorrow from Annie and traipsing around the living room to You Gotta Get a Gimmick to pay much attention to stuff other kids liked. This is kind of embarrassing: When I was five I wanted to be a stripper because my parents let me watch Gypsy. I made my mom get me a plastic trumpet so I could be like Miss Mazeppa, and at Christmas I would hang ornaments on myself and pretend to be Miss Electra. Jeez. Childhood was great.

So, in order to satiate the crowds who are calling for my cinematic blood, here it is: The List of Movies I've Never Seen

Beauty and the Beast
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
It's a Wonderful Life
Citizen Kane
It Happened One Night
anything from Star Wars, Rocky, or Indiana Jones

I don't feel particularly deprived. By the time I was six I was watching The Sound of Music and Bye Bye Birdie. I don't consider missing out on 'classic' Disney movies to be that great a loss. Whatever. I saw Streetcar at a very young age, and that is all the movie I've ever needed.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

It's Today

HELLO, DARLINGS!!! I have a great, great feeling about today. Now, it may have something to do with the fact that today may be the most beautiful day I've ever seen, or the fact that I fell asleep at seven last night, surrounded by sheaves of sheet music and with my head on my piano. But I just have this feeling that something wonderful is gonna happen for me today. There are just so many things I could do. Somewhere there's a party worth crashing, and I intend to be there.

The sun is really shining in today. And so, the little voice in my head is repeatedly chanting, "GoseeHairgoseeHairgoseeHairgoseeHair." But that ain't gonna happen, because I'm not that lucky. That might not happen, but something is. I don't know what it is, but it is gonna be great. Thanks for that, Mr. Sondheim.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Sunday in the Alley With 20,000 People

Wilkommen. I don't know where you guys are, but here it's a beautiful, cool night. I've tucked myself into a little ball and am sitting underneath the window. There's ten minutes to Glee, so I thought I'd pop in here. Pop.
Great news on all fronts today. I've started teaching myself the role of Dot from Sunday in the Park. There's a lot more to her than meets the eye. I like Jenna Russell's performance better than Bernadette Peters. Jenna played her as more youthful and fun-loving. So when I drift around singing the songs or run lines with my occasionally-willing neighbor, that's what I go for. I just realized how weird that is. But yeah, I could probably do a pretty decent Sally Bowles/Little Red/Momma Rose/Stella/Edie/Jeanie/Dot if the situation ever arose. Of course, one man's decent is another man's claw-your-eyes-out, so I think we should all just hope said situation never arises.

Hey, look! Glee just started and guess who I see! DEBRA MONK! And Victor Garber...I'm afraid of him. Debra Monk also scares me a bit. And I didn't even see Curtains.

Avenue Q is going back Off-Broadway. I was so surprised. And nothing ever really surprises me anymore. Which is why....wait, nevermind! IT'S JOHN LLOYD YOUNG! Yay Glee! I applaud the use of Broadway actors. Seriously. I'm clapping right now.

Warning: the following is gonna sound really spoiled, willful, and bratty. It may cause you to hate me more than you actually do. It may incite grumbles of, "Stuck-up bitch." But here it is. I'm going to Amsterdam. Summer 2011. So there it is. I'm going to Amsterdam, and I'm going to tiptoe through the tulips with the potheads and avoid the heroin addicts. It's gonna be great.

The BC/EFA Flea Market is next Sunday. As my two-year-old cousin would say, "I'm so excited." Indeed I am. This year, I am in search of a Sunday in the Park Playbill. If you've never been to the flea market, go. It's definitely a party worth crashing. Last year I saw Doug Wright, lyricist and book writer for Grey Gardens. If I've never said it before, Grey Gardens is a work of pure genius, thus, seeing Mr. Wright rendered me unable to speak. I distinctly remember standing there dumbfounded for a second, and then I said, "Around the World is great." Okay, so that was awkward. But Around the World is still my favorite song ever.

Great picture right? I don't know why I've never seen it before. It's a perfect combination of My Favorite Color and My Favorite Person Who Ever Lived. Yay for Vivien Leigh. Yay for purple.

So I recently read and watched The Crucible. Let me tell you this, folks: Shit's intense. I entertained my Facebook friends by posting, "I saw Goody Palin with the Devil!" as my status. I got three likes and a comment. Laugh, fools, laugh.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I'm Going to Hell

RATS IN THE STREETS AND THE LUNATICS YELLING AT THE MOON, IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD!! No, really. I just heard Allison Case say bitch. If that's not the end of the world, I don't know what is. On top of that, Berri probably wants to run a rusty spike through my stomach, and there is a great chance that Lenora will soon feel the urge to do the very same thing. So here's what went down, and then we'll elaborate on why I'm a terrible person. I spent my afternoon with:

Alice Ripley

Jenn Damiano

Aaron Tveit

Kerry Butler

Cheyenne Jackson

John Stamos

Matt Doyle

Caissie Levy

Sutton Foster

Seth Rudetsky

Josefina Scaglione

Matt Cavenaugh

Christiane Noll

Beth Leavel

others I have no recollection of

Okay, so I went to Broadway on Broadway, without Berri or Lenora. I'm not gonna say it wasn't fun, cause it was. It was really fun. But here's how it went, and maybe this self-seeking bitch can redeem herself a bit: My dad charged into my room this morning and declared that if I could be out of the house in ten minutes we could go to Broadway on Broadway. Of course I was up like a shot, washing and half-drying my hair, pulling out a pair of jeans and a plaid top, and out in the door in seven minutes.

We took the subway over. I have to say, I don't think there is any experience that is more 'New York' then emerging from the subway to see the entire city rise before you. We arrived in Times Square just in time to see Sutton Foster's face projected on the big screen. After some expert maneuvering, and my shameless manipulation of the fact that my dad's a cop, we managed to end up three rows from the stage. It was great.

First up was Bye Bye Birdie. It was okay. Seeing Matt Doyle again was a blast from the past. Even when I'm old and in my rocker, I'm still going to remember him as Hanschen Rilow, the creepy omnisexual German Nazi kid from Spring Awakening. He'd make a great Emcee. Because really, there aren't that many roles in the range of creepy omnisexual Germans.

Next to Normal did Superboy and the Invisible Girl. I hate that song. I just do. Alice Ripley seems to have seen better days. But then again, so has this country. I'm a Ripley fan now, I'll be a Ripley fan tomorrow, and I was a Ripley fan yesterday. As such, I screamed like a lunatic for her. I think a return visit to the Booth may be in order.

West Side Story was awful. Josefina Scaglione seemed decent, but Matt Cavenaugh was the auditory equivalent of inserting contact lenses with a razor.

Hair was next. Only Caissie Levy was there, and one of the highlights of my day was watching her horrified face when the host pronounced her name as "Cassie Levvy." It was epic. She did a pretty good job. There are worse songs they could have done.

A few bland numbers later, (I'm looking at you, White Christmas,) Ragtime was on. They did Wheels of a Dream. That's a great song, but my favorite is the Prologue. After Wheels of a Dream, the entire cast strode onstage to sing the end of the Prologue. And I cried. We're not talking a few subtle tears. This was an out-and-out emotional meltdown. It was pretty pathetic. In case I haven't told you guys this yet, I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE RAGTIME!!!!!!! I don't care where I sit. I'm accustomed to mezzanine crawling, as I've said. But I will be there, come hell or high water. Okay, here goes. Ragtime is perfect. There I said it. Ragtime is perfect. I said it again. The score is perfect. Every show I've ever known has at least one clunker. Cabaret has What Would You Do, Spring Awakening has The Mirror Blue Night, Rent has everything but La Vie Boheme. For Ragtime, though, I cannot think of one song I don't love.

They ended the show but shooting confetti and streamers into the crowd. I literally could not see anything. When I finally emerged from the cloud, confetti was everywhere - in my shoes, down my shirt, in my hair, in my bag. But it wasn't on my party dress.

So all in all a great day. Two weeks to the flea market. J'adore the flea market. Last year I got Berger's ripped shirt. That meant nothing to me then, but now I'm glad I did it. Good times.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Light the Candles, Get the Ice Out, Roll the Rug Up, It's Today

Wilkommen. So it's today. Yessiree, Allison Case is finally making a triumphant return to the stage of the Hirschfeld Theatre, after over a month of absence. Hooray for her. Perhaps this means I shall soon find myself at Hair once again. First on my list right now, however, is Ragtime. A month and a half till previews. It's gonna be good, and it's gonna win Tonys, and it's gonna outrun Bye Bye Birdie. Because it just is.

Wait, stop the presses. I've just realized something. It's September 12! IT'S FRANK MILLS DAY - the day Crissy met Frank Mills, before she subsequently lost his address! How appropriate that Miss Case should be making her return tonight. It's a good day. Sorry that this picture of her is so absolutely MASSIVE.

So, friends, I'm taking an opera/musical theatre class this year. The very first thing the girls asked me, before I had even set my books down, was whether or not I had been at the closing of Spring Awakening. When I said yes, they nodded to each other knowingly and asked who my favorite actress was. I said Alice Ripley. This time, they smiled and asked what my name was. I think I passed the test. We've only had three classes, but it's going swimmingly. Taking a class that begins with a question about Spring Awakening constitutes a good year in my book. I'm also required to see an opera in the fall and a musical in the spring. I've never been to the opera. It's really sad. But I'm more excited for it than I thought I would be. I want to see Madame Butterfly, but I think we're either going for Tosca or Turandot.
It has come to my attention that I've had visitors from New Zealand and Germany. Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome! I always really wanted to go to Berlin. And Amsterdam, actually, but we haven't had any Dutch visitors as of yet. I dream of the day.

There's more to say, and there are Broadwaysecrets to share, but it's all stuff I just don't feel like saying right now. So I'm off.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


Welcome back, suckers. I love the first day of school. I really do. Everything's new and shiny, the teachers are nice, the notebooks are clean, and you're morally obligated to greet everyone with a hug. So today was a good day for me.

I have to say, though, the highlight of my day, possibly the highlight of the entire school year, happened within a minute of me setting foot inside the school. One of my Facebook friends, a girl I never actually talk to in the real world, came up to me, hugged me, and said, "Oh, my God, your statuses are amazing!" Now here's the thing, friends. The Facebook relationship is a precarious one. I don't send friend requests. I don't believe in them. If I'm interested in being your friend, I'll do it in the real world. But I don't believe in rejecting them either. So I just hit accept, unless I hate you. But that's not the issue here. Still, it's not the closest of bonds. This would explain why I was utterly shocked that someone would go out of their way to seek me out, hug me, and compliment my Facebook statuses.

Now I hope you're not under the impression that my statuses are actually good. Because they most certainly are not. Usually, they're just a little anecdote about something that happened to me or lyrics that are pulsing around my head. I just think 'em up and clack 'em out. Isn't that what everybody does? Well, I guess it's nice to know that at least one person thinks I'm doing a bang-up job.

So once again, Lenora and I are in the same homeroom and therefore locker neighbors. I am a terrible neighbor, but it's good to have Lenora around. She's smarter than I am and once told me that. Bitch. Our lockers are huge this year. I could probably fit the entire population of Rhode Island in mine. That'll probably come in handy someday. Still, there's a downside - our block of lockers is directly in the path of a swinging door. Curse you, whoever designed the place. Twice today I watched someone get nailed with a door, and the girl in the corner has to practically climb into her locker whenever someone wants to get the door open. Tomorrow I'm gonna bring a road blocks and a stun gun.

Our homeroom teacher told us he'll buy Munchkins for our birthdays, in a flavor the birthday girl chooses. When my birthday comes around, I'm gonna pick something like carrot. It's gonna be a great year.

Monday, September 7, 2009


Good morning, starshine. It's two a.m., or something like that. And I am up, because it's the last night of the summer. I haven't had any Powerade tonight. I swear to God. The doctors told me I had to stop with that, because I was getting too many electrolytes and calories, or something like that. So I'm up, in some desperate last-ditch attempt to make my summer last longer. Or something like that. And what a summer it's been, don't you agree? I love my life right now, which is not something I would usually say. I just watched a video of Rondi Reed getting into her Madame Morrible, which is always not something I would usually say. So this summer's been a mix of ups and downs. Okay, it was mostly up. Sorry, friends. I don't want to rub it in, but I really did have one great summer. I think the best days of it were:

1. August 20
2. August 8
3. July 13

And now I am awake, and tired, and having a panic attack because it's over. I don't do well with letting stuff go. I still have a bouquet of year-old prop flowers the Spring Awakening stage door man gave me. Lenora can attest to this. They are currently standing upside-down on my vanity, an eyesore but a fountain of memories. Of course, if I tried to touch them they would probably crumble faster than Alice Ripley's descent into madness. (But I still effing adore Alice Ripley, and it makes no difference to me whether or not she's on crack. So what? Carey Grant did LSD. So you can all just shut up about that.) I cannot tell you all the embarrassing things I've done to keep myself awake. I read some of Emily Kinney's blog posts. She's Jean on the August: Osage County tour. The only acceptable Jean for me is Madeleine Martin, just like Vivien Leigh is the only acceptable Blanche DuBois and blue is the only acceptable Powerade flavor. I leafed through August: OC and counted the number of times Barbara says f-ck. Trust me. It's a lot. After that I looked at some old pictures and marveled at how fat I was as a child. In an hour I will watch Family Guy. While we're on the subject, some poor unfortunate soul had the absolute unmitigated gall to tell me that South Park was funnier than Family Guy. That is an utterly unacceptable thing to say, and horrifying too. Jesus, I'm soooo tired. How tired, you ask? So tired that if I were Caissie Levy I'd be ripping my weave out right now. And then the world would rejoice. Sorry, Caissie Levy. I'm backing off now. You do what you want with your hair, and I'll just silently judge you. Don't take it personal. I do that to everybody.

So I saw Taking Woodstock last night. (Technically, two days ago?) Yeah. You know that scene in Schindler's List where all the women see the children being taken off to the gas chambers? That was a lot less painful.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Going International

Big news, folks. I had my first international visitor today. Apparently, someone from Sweden searched and found my blog. Hello, my new Swedish friend. Everybody say, "Hi, Swedish Blog Reader!" Okay, honey, I'm done embarrassing you now.

So today is September 6. You know what that means. 9 to 5 has met its end. I'm listening to One of the Boys right now, as a sort of funereal dirge. So long, ladies. Be thankful for your five months. You could have gone down like Glory Days.

Yesterday afternoon, Lenora saw West Side Story. I was proud of her for taking the risk. She came back with the following information: Matt Cavenaugh sucks. I could have told her that. I was told about his hideous accent, which is no foreign thing to me. I saw Grey Gardens. When I asked Lenora what her favorite part was, her abrupt response was, "When Tony died." Oh, Lord. I remember a time when people were actually supposed to care when Tony dies. Thanks for that, Richard Beymer. However, I was told that Matt Cavenaugh "is hot." Unfortunately, that makes no difference to me. So's Jeremy Piven, and look how that ended up. If Matt Cavenaugh's looks reflected his actual talent, he would probably look something like this guy. Wow. That's unbearable. Okay, he's somebody's son. I'm shutting up now.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Tripping 1906 Style

It's one in the morning. I still have my earplugs in and sleepmask on the top of my head, but I was just woken up by the most vivid dream I've ever had in my life. Figured I'd tell you all about it now before it goes out of my head. I dreamt I saw Ragtime. Live, and in its entirety, with every single song, scene, and line intact. I was by myself, in fact I was the only one in the theatre. I even remember where I sat - mezz row J. (This shouldn't surprise me, since in my waking hours I am a shameless Mezzanine Crawler.) But I saw it, and it was perfect. Great dream. Okay, whatever. I'm gonna go back to bed now.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

No Words for This

Hey, guys. Can we talk? So today I came across something disgusting, ugly, and terrifying.

That wasn't it. This is.

Watch and be amazed at just how racist, blind, gullible, and ignorant one person can be. The two Christian girls repeatedly slap the Indian girl and her beliefs in the face, and she sits there and tries to calmly explain her beliefs to them. I think my favorite part of the whole video is, "You're not Hindu. You just think you're Hindu." Oh, isn't she just darling? All that insight. Second favorite part is, "Krishna...krishna like Christian?" "No. Krishna like krishna." Seriously, though, this is horrifying. These girls are freaking brainwashed, and they've been trained to go out and brainwash everybody else. I can't believe they were taught that all non-Christians go to hell. What vapid little monkeys, to believe something like that. It just amazes me that there are people like this in the world.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Reaching the Nation

Hello, my 31 darlings. I've been checking up on my blog hits, and apparently one of my regular readers lives in Alaska. That can only mean one thing, folks. SARAH PALIN READS MY BLOG! Lenora was right all along. Because clearly, nobody else lives in Alaska. Everybody say, "Hi, Sarah!" Now say, "We don't like you very much, Sarah!" I'm so faux excited, I don't even know what to do with myself.

So I watched Glee tonight, and contemplated the fact that Lea Michele ain't never coming back to Broadway. And that got me thinking about how much I loved and continue to love Spring Awakening. Getting nostalgic here. I miss it so much. By the time I started my blog, my ardor for the show had cooled a lot, but there was a period from about June 2007 to January 2008 when it was all the mattered to me. I know that sounds scary, but I just adored this show. I ate, drank, and breathed Spring Awakening. And I was happier than I think I've ever been in my life. This picture fills me up with joy. It's a shot of the original cast, plus Steven Sater, who I haven't thought about in months, and Duncan Sheik, more-talented older brother of Kacie. I love and miss this show. That's all I can say, but you should know by now that I'm most likely gonna say more. Yes, I love Hair. Yes, I admit it may possibly be better than Spring Awakening was. But here's the thing - I'm always gonna love Spring more. I just am. There are shows that are better than this one. I know that for a fact; I've seen them. But this one is closest to my heart. It kind of osmosed itself into my life, and it's part of who I am now. Which is not to say that I go around taking killer abortion pills. Isn't this just a great picture, though? Oh, Lea. You were a spotlight hog even back then. It's kind of funny to see Jenn Damiano, pre-Tony nom, back when she was a deep-voiced fifteen-year-old. I liked her better when she was a deep-voiced fifteen-year-old.
Ah, Jesus, I'm relapsing. Okay, that's it for now. This may be my favorite song of all time. I was in Bryant Park for this. I almost had heatstroke. Good times.