Monday, May 31, 2010


Apparently Marin Mazzie is the next Diana. That is wonderful and awful news. I love Marin. But I just can't see Next to Normal again. July 18 will make it 6, and 6 is enough for anybody.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

How Bout No

Apparently Tom Selleck wants to come back to Broadway. As Peter Griffin said, "None for you, Tom Selleck. You've had yours."

I just realized it's been quite a while since I've seen a show with my mom or my aunt. Mom's last was Night Music, which she loved. Aunt Donna's last was God of Carnage, which she hated. But they both want to see American Idiot pretty badly. Hmm. Possibilities. Anyway. Yesterday some modernist bitch asked me what my favorite band was. I sat there and stared at her and she said, "Well, I heard you only like Broadway. That's so weird." So I said, "I actually like Green Day a lot, even though they're pretty old school." She raised and eyebrow, giggled to her friends, and asked me what Green Day song I liked. I said American Idiot, 21 Guns, Too Much Too Soon, Last Night on Earth, and Know Your Enemy. They all stared at me. I asked if they wanted anything else. They just walked away. Thanks for that one, Michael Mayer. I love owning people.

Friday, May 28, 2010


Hair in the West End closes Sept. 4. I'm sad. Okay, I'm really not, because now Creel and Swenson and and Levy and Sheik and Guinn and Case and everyone else can come home. Of course, Will Swenson is doing Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but it's nice to think about. Except not in a creepy way. Love all the way. Ace Young can shut up and get gone now.

Rumor - Peters and Stritch are coming to Night Music. I'LLLLLLLLLLLLLLL drink to that! I freaking love Elaine Stritch. I was never a Bernadette Peters fan, but she's grown on me. She's a little old for Desiree, but I would go see her. And it would be a wonderful evening, because Leigh Ann Larkin is still around. Sondheim on Sondheim on the 13 and Next to Normal on July 18 and American Idiot and This Wide Night and Night Music and Next Fall and and and and I love summer. Hiho the glamorous life.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


Yes, I heard. To answer your question - absosonofabitchinlutely, and Lenora too. She was the one that told me. I was sitting in class, and she was jumping around and flailing like an idiot. When I got out of class, she told me. And I said, "What? No, wait, what? No, really. What?" And then after it sunk in, I said, "Shit." True story. God damn it all to hell.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Die Salesman Die

Sorry. You know what's a damn awesome play? Death of a Salesman. There's just so much there that it takes several readings (and viewings) to weed through it all. Today I attempted to cut to the heart of the issue, and I asked my English teacher what's fundamentally wrong with Willy Loman. She said he was a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I nodded like I understood, but I don't. You don't just wake up one morning and have a nervous breakdown. Something had to put him there, and there had to be some underlying issues that made everything go so wrong for him. So what could possibly have been so intrinsically wrong with this man that he ended up being so passive-agressive? There must have been something that happened to him to make him that way. The issues run too deep for all of his problems to have been caused by what he does in the play.

I really enjoy plays, and I'm thinking my next venture into the nonmusical theatre will be This Wide Night. I've never seen Allison Pill live, but I hear she is wonderful. I could take or leave Edie Falco. Anyway, a lot of people write plays off, but I think I actually may prefer them more than musicals.

It just occured to me that Lenora actually cares a lot more than I do about my inkpop progress, and I think I finally figured out why. Smashed is my baby, not Lenora's. If I'm the mother, she's the fun aunt. Cheerleader that she is, she wants to see my book go all the way to the top. I want that too, but I've already spent hours and hours and hours with this project. I've sat up nights trying to get it just right, and it's still not quite there. For some reason, that kind of labor breeds a patience. I'm not willing to wait forever, but I do want to wait until Smashed is as perfect as it possibly can be. And besides:

Saturday, May 22, 2010


I don't usually post Broadwaysecrets here. It's just something I don't do, like getting up at intermission. But I had to post this one, because I just don't know what else I can do. Whoever made this should be locked up somewhere.

Stranger danger lesson: It is NOT okay to touch other people's kids without their permission. It is NOT okay to be star struck by a baby. AND IT IS NOT OKAY TO TOUCH A STRANGER'S KID WHEN HE'S NOT LOOKING! Jesus Christ, people.

Anyway, inkpop grows more exasperating by the minute. Aside from vampires, you know what really grinds my gears? People who insist upon giving their characters ridiculous names or ridiculous spellings of normal names. Seriously. I can no longer tolerate reading about Sharlotte or Traysee or Brok or Rayne. I just can't take it anymore. Oh, and I can't stand stories about "faeries." The word is fairy. Spelling it differently doesn't make you any cooler and it doesn't make your played-out story more original. My book reviews are getting increasingly caustic, but when I think something is good I say so. I'm not here to tear down everybody's dreams. But I'm not afraid to say it when I don't like something, and I'm not afraid for someone to tell me they don't like my work. I'd rather hear it from them than from the publishers. I expect honesty and I give honesty in return. So if your stupid repetitive vampire book is boring, I'm gonna tell you so and we'll all find some way to live with that.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Clara Bow

You know how everyone wants to look like somebody? I wish I looked like Clara Bow. Or at least I wish I knew somebody who looked like Clara Bow. Then I could be all, "Hey everybody! I know somebody who looks like Clara Bow!" Seriously. The main character in my novel is modeled after her. In fact, this picture was the inspiration for the book the way the picture of the old lady in the ruins of the New Amsterdam was the inspiration for Follies.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

One Saturday Morning

Welcome back, suckers. My psychiatrist tried to break up with me today. But no one ever leaves a star. That's what makes one a star. I heart Norma Desmond and her eyes. She did not have "Bette Davis eyes." The only person in history who had Bette Davis eyes was Bette Davis. If you think you have Bette Davis eyes, odds are you're just a pop-eyed freak.

So I just realized we never chatted about my latest trip to the Booth. For an hour before the show started, my heart was pounding hard enough to explode out of my chest. When I looked at the call board, I saw that somebody was out. My stomach dropped out and I think I said something that should not be repeated in front of the children. And I looked again, and it wasn't Alice. It was Jenn. Hell broke loose. I think I started screaming, "Thank you Jesus!" or something. I don't know. The memory is hazy. So she went on, but didn't come out of the stage door. I do not fault her for that. I wanted her to go on, and nothing else. And that's what I got. And life is a son of a bitching cabaret.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

A Realization

I just realized that I don't like Into the Woods very much, and Early Sondheim is better than Late Sondheim. Road Show. Really, Mr. S? Road Show. You're gonna compare that to Company and Sweeney?

Still, I'm a Sondheim fan to the core. Word on the street is we're getting a Follies revival next season, and possibly some Merrily We Roll Along. Three cheers, and, dammit, c'est la vie.

So I've been taking a musical theatre course, and I am finding it horrifically boring. So far all I've learned is that Merman should have gotten the Tony over Mary Martin and life upon the wicked stage ain't ever what a girl supposes. You know, those things that every self-respecting theatre lover knows. Yeah. Those things. I feel like I have to sit there and pay to be taught everything I learned years ago and learned for free. I was one of two in the entire class who'd ever heard of Frank Loesser, and I was the only one who knew he wrote How to Succeed. The teacher asked us to name a concept musical. I said Company. The girl next to me said Wicked. I hate school.

But anyway, summer is coming, and I am looking forward to long, sweltering afternoons in Bryant Park listening to people's understudies sing. I've lost count of how many of those concerts I've been too. I just remember that the first one was the best one - Spring Awakening, The Fantasticks, The Color Purple, and Wicked. I was such a giddy little Guilty One that I was literally to excited to speak. I have gotten better since then. Seriously. Ask Lenora. I hardly ever freak out anymore, except when I'm caught off guard. So if I pass Alice Ripley in the alley or Jonathan Groff walks by me on 45th Street, the heart is gonna skip a beat.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Momma's Day

Hello, darlings. I heart my mommy. For me she's sat through:

Beauty and the Beast
Little Women
Spring Awakening
August: Osage County
Speech and Debate
Night Music
Legally Blonde
Next to Normal
Mary Poppins
In the Heights

I'm sure I'm forgetting some. She loved Hairspray and Spring Awakening, but she hated Speech and Debate and Phantom with a sick and burning passion. She did not fall asleep at Night Music and Hair did not horrify her. I am proud of her.

So. Who's your favorite Broadway mom? I do this every year, and I have a few. In no particular order:

Diana Goodman
Sally Bowles
Barbara Fordham
Stella Kowalski
Madame Armfeldt and Desiree
Violet Weston
Momma Rose
Big Edie
Claude's mom

It's all so awfully loverly.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

I Haz a Cat

Yessiree, I have my first pet since my old goldfish named Bernice. She is a beautiful striped kitten and I named her Ripley. She is technically my neighbor's cat, and Maisie's gonna give her away. I'm gonna fight like hell to keep that from happening. Ripley is my cat. I love her. It's too late. I've gotten Attached. She fits perfectly across my thigh and likes to nibble the tip of my nose. I realize that loving a cat so much is the first step towards turning out like Big Edie, but is there anything more adorable than a kitten named Ripley? Sometimes Ripley is shortened to Ripples. Her father's name is Claude. I named him too. I think I have a problem.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

I Can't Take It

People make me want to rip my hair out. Two of my Facebook friends were discussing why Obama didn't host a National Day of Prayer cermony. One of them said the following: "he didn't because he is liberal communist scum. basically the same reason for all of his bad decision."

I think it's time to unfriend.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010


Yeah, so, okay. I'm a little less hopped up now. I'm very grateful for those guys over at the nominating committee who treated Ragtime so well. I also take some pleasure in seeing those Addams freaks get kicked in the teeth. Let's see the snubs -

Nathan Lane
Bebe Neuwirth
John Gallagher Jr.
American Idiot
Addams Family

But, oh, how wonderful for beautiful Ragimte. And now, my Tony predictions.

Best Musical
American Idiot - should and will get it
Million Dollar Quartet

Best Actress in a Musical
Montego Glover
Christiane Noll - should get it
Sherie Renee Scott - will get it
Kate Baldwin

Best Actor in a Musical
Douglas Hodge - should and will get it
Sean Hayes
Kelsey Grammer
Chad Kimball
Sahr Ngaujah

Best Revival of a Musical
Ragtime - should get it
La Cage - will get it
Night Music
Finian's Rainbow (didn't see that bitch comin')

Featured Actress in a Musical
Lansbury - will and should get it
Barbara Cook
Katie Finnernan
Karine Plantadit (who?)
Lillias White

Featured Actor in a Musical
Bobby Steggert - will and should get it
Robin de Jesus
Kevin Chamberlin
Levi Kreis
Christopher Fitzgerald

Best Director of a Musical
Marcia Milgrom Dodge - should get it
Terry Johnson - will get it
Bill T. Jones
Christopher Ashley

More to come. Go Ragtime.

Let the Games Begin

I thought this season sucked. Ragtime was not forgotten. Christiane Noll was not forgotten. Bitch is gonna take down Sherie Renee Scott and CZJ and Kate Baldwin and Montego Glover and take that which is rightly hers. I'm backing her like I backed Ripley, but on steroids. It's gonna be tougher for her to get it, even tougher for Bobby Steggert, hell for Marcia Milgrom Dodge, and nearly impossible for the show itself. La Cage is the big bully this year. This is gonna be one bitch of a Tony night.

Life is Good

So the Tony noms were kinda fucked up. Nathan and Bebe got kicked in the face. But guess what got seven nominations. RAGTIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Best Revival, Christiane Noll, Bobby Stegget, Marcia Milgrom Dodge, among others. I'm sitting in English class learning Plath and trying not to cry.

Sunday, May 2, 2010


At last. At long son of a bitching last.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

I Love Ya Tomorrow

I don't know if I spelled tomorrow right. But I just took the goddamn SAT and witnessed a car accident and it's freaking hot up here and I'm worried Ripley won't go on. It's been a rough day and it's only four o'clock. Come dance the edge of sanity with me. It's fun out here.

Yesterday Lenora made me climb a tree. And I did it, damn it. I climbed that tree like a bitch. I now own that tree. It is My Tree. The tree is my bitch. It's really really really hot. Anyway, once I made it up there, I got stuck. And I freaked out. While Lenora ran off to get her camera, I sat there and prayed I didn't fall and break my leg. An annoying little freshman sauntered over and began asking me stupid questions about contemporary Broadway. I literally had nowhere else to go. I had to sit there in that freaking tree and talk about Jennifer Damiano in more detail than anyone ever should. It was creepy and terrifying. Jennifer, if you're out there, don't lump me with her. She's a psycho.

So tomorrow's the day. I'm gonna roll them dice just one more time, and this time I'm gonna get it right. Until then, I shall direct you all to Allison Guinn's blog. Crazy Horse say white man die.