Reach

Apparently Emerson is a reach for me. But then the college advisor started chatting with me about how great Night Music is and that Charlotte is more fun to play than Desiree. So I'm reaching. And I will step on your face if necessary. Reach reach reach. Reach past the kids who aren't trying as hard. And get into Emerson, god damn it.

This Time We're Gonna Make It

On Sunday, I am gonna try this one last time. Got me some Next to Normal tickets. Please, Jesus, let me get it right this time. Let Ripley be on. I can't take another Jessica Phillips performance. I don't know what else to do. Historically, my best theatrical experiences have been on even numbered days in May.

May 18, 2008 - Spring Awakening
May 20, 2009 - Next to Normal
May 26, 2007 - Mary Poppins
May 22, 2005 - Little Women

Goddamit, I'm gonna get it right this time.

Did I Ever Tell You You're My Hero?

Everyone on the planet needs to read Lynn Nottage's Ruined. Why oh why didn't I go see it when I got the chance? Seriously regretting that now.

Also, Toni Morrison is my favorite living American author. She's almost as wonderful as Sylvia Plath.

Welcome Back, Sucker

I just finished The Bell Jar. Shit's hardcore. Anyway.

Brian D'Arcy James is coming back to Next to Normal. Welcome back, sucker. We forgive you for Shrek. We also laugh in your face. Jebus. Stuff like this almost makes me want to try one more time. But I won't. Cause if it's possible to miss Ripley twice, it's possible to miss her a third time.

American Idiot

Happy opening, Idiots. I love you in a sick, stepchild, You'll Never Be Spring Awakening way.

Calling Out to Idiot America

I hate Andrew Lloyd Webber. I also hate whoever told him Cats was a good idea.



Dad and I went up to Boston this weekend to visit Emerson again. I still love it as much as always, and I met a kid named Claude. He was drinking Blue Powerade and humming How Could I Ever Forget. If that's not a sign I don't know what is. Anyway. As we were strolling around the city, I looked across the street at the Colonial marquee and saw Violet Weston clawing at me. I must have looked incredibly stupid, screaming "HOLY JESUS!" in the middle of Boylston Street. But can you imagine coming to Boston only to find that your wonderful, plate-smashing, pill-popping, cousin-loving second family is there too? I know, right? Bliss. So I was practically choking on my tongue as I ran across the street to the Colonial. But guess what. I was three weeks too early. And I had to see Cats.

First of all, I was scared out of my mind. I was fifth row on the aisle, and the Cats move around the theatre. That's only ok when the hippies do it. Somehow getting swatted by someone dressed like a cat just isn't the same as Will Swenson looming over you in his loincloth. Second. There is no plot. At all. Okay, I lied. Everyone's mean to Grizabella, who has ten minutes of stage time. The Rum Tum Tugger's a sex maniac. Mistoffelees is a pyro, and there's just something seriously wrong with Jennyanydots and her dancing cockroaches. It's just so damn ridiculous. This monstrosity sold out the Winter Garden for eighteen years. Ragtime got two months. Two son of a bitching months. Just one of the unfair things in life. Billy Elliot I'm looking at you.

THIS WILL BE IN ALL CAPS

HOLY EFF NEXT TO NORMAL WON THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR DRAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS A VERY BIG SON OF A BITCHING DEAL. THE LITTLE SHOW THAT COULD GOT THE PULITZER. NO MUSICAL HAS GOTTEN THE PULITZER SINCE RENT! HAHAHAHA HAHAJHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I AM SO EXCITED IM GONNA THROW UP AND F YOU PUNCTUATION THIS SITUATION EXCEEDS YOU! SUCK ON THAT YOU GODDAMN BALLERINA!!

Oh Lord. Oh Jesus. I'm crying and screaming and laughing and clapping and trying like hell to get ahold of Lenora. The odds were against them. They were gonna close in a week. And now the goddamn Pulitzer. No words for this. Just no words. And this makes up for missing Ripley twice.

REMEMBER

Remember when Ragtime got revived on Broadway? That was great, right? I miss that. Let's do that again.

Sigh. Well, I just found out that American Idiot is only an hour and a half long. That is a bit disappointing. I've also heard that they're only repeating what Spring Awakening did first and did better. I still think that they can take down those Addams freaks, though. Night Music was all set to be Best Revival, but then La Cage showed up across the street to blow them out of the water. I'm not at all familiar with La Cage. I didn't see it in '05, but I'm hearing great things about this one. Maybe I'll pop in if I get a chance. So now I think for Best Revival it will be:

Night Music
La Cage
Promises, Promises
God, willing - Ragtime

Sherie Renee Scott and Everyday Rapture are taking over the American Airlines and Lenora is happy as a clam. Sherie Renee is to Lenora what Alice Ripley used to be to me. (Maybe before the season ends I'll go back to the Booth one final time, and then cut a bitch if I get burned a third time.) Anyway, that means CZJ just got the Tony ripped from her Hollywood hands. Good. There have been better Desirees.


Edit: Ohohohohohoho, I just found out that Inkpop has screwed me over once again. I'm stuck behind some fothermucker who has been picking his own pathetic poem to get ahead. Poor, pathetic child. Wanna break shit? Cause I can break shit too, and you don't wanna break shit with me. You wanna play games? Let's play games. This asshole doesn't know what he's gotten himself into. I don't take kindly to cheaters and sons of lifeless bitches like him. I'll take him down like Yoko took down John Lennon.

Again

You know that guy who said lightning doesn't strike twice? Find him. I wanna punch him in the face. Three nights ago I went back to Next to Normal. I sat next to a pole. By myself. And Ripley did not go on. Again. And neither did Bobby Spencer. I sat there thinking, "Was that a farce?" And it wasn't. But it wasn't a good show, either. Send in the son of a bitching clowns, cause I shoulda seen Looped.