Opening Night!

There's a definite thrill to opening night.  Sometimes it feels more like terror, or dread, depending on how high your hopes for the show, or how much you question the quality of the show you are about to expose to a good sized audience for the first time.  The thrill  feels magnified for me tonight, since I leapt into the show with a little under two weeks before opening. 

Jumping in as I did, the process was sped up for me.  My first read-through was in front of a cast that had been doing this for awhile (although this show had what must be a record number of cast changes) and up until a couple nights before dress rehearsal I was still finding my rhythm, missing cues, and generally stumbling my way through the part.  It's truly been great to have such wonderful people in the show and crew.  Norman, Jenny, Jean, Karen, Tyler, Amy  and Andy have been extremely supportive and giving, and I could not have joined a more fun or warm hearted bunch of folks.  Plus, Sara, who plays the ingénue is just charming, and my favorite new friend. 


In short, I feel mostly solid, and might just be ready for play time tonight.

Arsenic and Old Lace

 

If you had asked me a little over a week ago, what show I'd be working on next, I would have had a completely different answer for you.  But since last Tuesday I've jumped into the cast of Arsenic and Old Lace, being produced by "Different Stages" at The Vortex.  It opens this Friday, and as of yet, I am not quite ready.  I'm covering for an actor who is unfortunately unable to continue in the part, and I know that know that a lot can be accomplished in the three days between now and opening, but I'm still a little nervous. 

I'm playing Teddy Brewster, a kook in a family of somewhat kooky folks.  His particular "quirk" is that he believes himself to be Teddy Roosevelt.  It's a really fun little part, without a tremendous amount of lines to memorize last minute, but the entrances and exits are a bit of a bitch.  In and out, in and out, shouting, bugle blowing, out and then back in.  I've made a little cheat sheet for myself to hang backstage so I don't forget any of the tiny little scenes I have in act one, and that will be a great help to pick up the slack where my mind leaves off.

Luckily, it's a great piece, and some of the cast members feel like family.  Karen Jambon and Jenny Underwood play the Brewster sisters, and two more generous and supportive (and talented) ladies would be hard to find.  Tyler Jones plays Mortimer.  This probably my fifth or sixth show with him, and he's always a lot of fun, with a wry sense of humor that catches all the bizarre and absurd little moments of life.

Again, we open this Friday, November 22nd.  We close December 14th.  If you live in the Austin area, I'd love to see you there.

DQ Country

Today is my twenty-first day on "My Fit Foods", and while I haven't lost as much weight as I expected/hoped to (I've lost about five pounds as of today) I do feel better about myself, and I am proud that I've gone this long without caffeine, alcohol, and processed food.  My skin looks better than ever, and a couple people have noticed some weight loss in my face (which, when it comes right down to it is what I care the most about, as in my opinion, a cute face can make up for a roll or two here and there).  On Thursday, I will have gone the full twenty-one days with supplements and the cranberry flush, and then I'm going to have to look at my future plans. 

I do not feel "finished" yet, as I haven't reached my goal weight of 190, but I don't want to continue with this regimented plan either, largely because even though the food is pretty tasty, I am bored to death of it.  Enough with the celery and almond butter, for fuck's sake!  Maybe I'll transition to Weight Watchers.  It's certainly cheaper, and less restrictive, so perhaps that will be my plan for the following weeks.  We will see.  I will say, as I get closer and closer to the final day, I'm more and more tempted to drop a pat of butter on my cauliflower mash, or to add some sour cream to the chili I have at dinner time.  And today while driving in North Austin I nearly pulled into Dairy Queen and had a pumpkin pie blizzard.  But I did not.  Strength prevails!

Kill Your Television?

I've come to realize that television can really deaden the impulse to create.  I'm not sure what it is about it, but I've noticed that when I have the urge to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be) it's so tempting to treat myself to an episode of "The Good Wife" first.  The problem is, once I do that, I lose track of the inspiration, the thoughts that were bubbling over just forty-four minutes before.  And it's such an unconscious act.  About to eat dinner?  If I'm home by myself I flip on the television.  And when I'm finished with the episode, all motivation is drained from me.  It's not that I feel bad, per say, I just don't feel inspired to work.  I'm not telling anyone to kill their television, I'm just making an observation which I plan to act on in the present and future.

1.  Less television.  Especially when I'm feeling the urge to create.
2.  Awareness.  When I'm wanting to turn on the television, am I actually trying to block the urge to create, and avoid the self judgment that inevitably comes with any act of creation?

Anyway, I think  I've overdosed on "The Good Wife" and am taking a break.  It's not as much an enjoyment anymore, as it is a drudge, a distraction I'm attached to.  I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but I'm aiming for a week off and hopefully when I walk back through the doors of Lockhart and Stern I will be glad to see their "very well tanned for Chicago" faces.  However, if you are not taking a sabbatical, please pay close attention to Season 4, Episode 7, "Anatomy of a Joke", which features my dear friend Melissa van der Schyff as the makeup artist.  Her scene is in the first fifteen minutes, and she's lovely in it. 

 

The L Word

Today is the official close of my ninth day on the cleanse, and I think my body has finally adjusted to the lower calorie intake and lack of process foods and caffeine.  I have my energy back, can breathe again as my cold has weakened, and the constant cravings for sugar and bread have depleted.  I will admit I've been bookmarking autumn and holiday recipes like a madman, in anticipation of the day when I will finally be able to eat yeast again. 

So far I've lost four pounds and can cinch my belt in an extra belt hole, and since I'm feeling a lot better than I had, I'm going to up the cardio for this last half, and really get all the benefit possible from it. 

One quick plug for the library.  This place is a god send.  Truly.  Ever since I've been really reigning in my spending, I've pretty much stopped buying books, music and dvds, and that's where the library has come in.  It's great for all those topics you've been curious about and wanted to dip your toes in.  You can just check a book out on the topic, browse it, take what you need, and return it.  Bada bing- bada boom.  And if there's a novel out there that looks really tempting- you can easily check it out.  If it's popular you can put it on hold, and reserve it for when the next available copy comes in.  Another amazing feature is the vast variety available.  You can search for just about anything, and if it's not at the branch nearest you, you can have it sent to your branch from one of the others that has it on its shelves. 

A few of the things I've been indulging in from the library lately...

1.  A great new translation of the Charles Perrault fairy tales.

2.  Bone-  a graphic novel in the vein of the old Uncle Scrooge comics, and speaking of...

3. The Uncle Scrooge comics.  I've been checking out a bunch of them.  I used to read them when I was a kid, and they were so exciting, full of adventure, exotic locales, and comforting characters.  My dad, gruff and macho as he was, was a big fan of those comics way into his adulthood, and it was something I found extremely relatable about him when I sometimes found little in common. 

4.  Bewitched (season 1)-  This show's gotten a lot of flack for being sexist, but I think that's a misinterpretation of its message.  As much as Samantha tries to be as "normal" as society of the early sixties wants her to be, she just can't do it.  The magic in her is what saves her family time and time again.  And as much as he says he doesn't like magic, Darrin really just wants to protect his wife and family from a society he fears won't accept them.  And Darrin's character progresses a lot from the beginning of the series to the end becoming more and more appreciative and accepting.  And if you look back on the characters that are awful in the show, they are almost always the mortals.  Darrin's mother?  controlling and neurotic.  Gladys Kravitz?  Busy body.  Larry Tate?  Conniving money grubber.  The witches come off looking a hell of a lot better, and loads more fun than the dreary mortals could think of being.  Really, the show's message is about balance.  The more Samantha is able to keep her life balanced, the steadier and calmer her life (and the more boring the tv show would become if she ever truly succeeded).

B. Iden Paynes

It's one of those Autumn days that I remember so well from living in California, where it's chillier inside than it is out.  Not quite sure why that happens, but it gives me a nostalgic feeling nonetheless.  There aren't many things I miss about California, but sharing an apartment converted from a home, one in which Jim Morrison lived during his college days (people used to stop and take pictures of the house, which confused me until I figured out why) with my dear friend Berv, is definitely one of those things.  And eating at John O'Groats on Sunday mornings, slathering butter on biscuits as friends from my own college years sit tightly around a table and talk about our lives.  I miss that.  The sense of community. 

It's funny, because LA is not a place that fosters community.  Everyone is chasing their very specific version of the Hollywood dream, and this is a singular pursuit which tends to leave no room for casual friendships and allies (unless they can somehow further the aforementioned dream).  It causes people to become flaky.  Causes people who were already self-involved, actors, to become even more self involved.  But those college friends of mine were true, lovely people who knew each other before we got to the land where you can't really trust anybody, and I was very grateful to have them when I lived there.  I miss them.  Miss being close with them. 

In other news, I went to B. Iden Payne Awards on Tuesday, and it was quite a time.  Next year, I've made a personal promise to myself that I will have at least two drinks, because without the drinks, watching other people's drunken speeches isn't nearly as much fun.  Highlights of the evening included the musical performances from the cast of Passing Strange, and from Jill Blackwood of Zach's production of Ragtime.  Both made me emotional and stirred up empathy and zeal, and both made me want to rush the stage to be as close to the performances as possible.  I do think the ceremony could use some tightening up, but thought the committee did a wonderful job putting on a show, wrangling a bunch of heavy drinking theatre people, and providing lots of juicy and powerful, as well as hilarious moments.

 I did not win, but my dear friend Libby Detling sure as hell did, and I was so happy to see her take the stage with hutzpah and humor.  Best speech of the evening, for my money.  Was also so happy to see John Austin share a win for "best youth performance".  He flew in from college in Boston to be there, and I couldn't have been happier for him.  He's one of those idealistic, sincere and shining souls that I expect to see great things from.  Since I'm sending out congrats I also have to say huge congrats to winners Carl Booker (for costumes), Chris Humphrey (for best actress in a comedy) and John Vander Gheynst for musical direction.  This is John's second win in a row, and I'm not surprised as he's extremely talented and his musicianship is amazing.  I was a little surprised Molly Wissinger wasn't paired up with him in the nomination as vocal director, since it seems as if the two people split the duties of what is often one person's job, but nonetheless I'm real happy. 

Dragging and Drowning in "The Good Wife"

So, I'm 8 days into the 21 day challenge (although it's officially only five days, since I didn't start supplements until Friday.  Screw you and your rules "Myfit foods"-  sfx: shaking of fist) and I have been pretty sluggish ever since.  I'm sure a large part of it has to do with the fact that I'm off caffeine and I've been on withdrawal as they say, and yet, after eight days you think I'd be feeling better.  Maybe 1700 calories a day just isn't enough for someone who is 6'3 and runs every other day.  I'm trusting them though, the fit foods people, that they know what I'm doing.  However, I have felt very little motivation as of late to do anything, one reason the blog's been a bit of a desert. 

The only thing I feel motivated to do is sleep (10 hours sometimes) and drown myself in The Good Wife.  I know there are those of you will say I've just substituted one addiction for another, but I am ok with that.  If 17 hours of Julianna Margulies is a bad thing then color me filthy.  I'm also loving Christine Baranski and Anika Noni Rose.  Love a show that has such strong women.  And the men are great as well, though, not the reason for watching, in my humble opinion.

Tonight is the B. Iden Payne Award ceremony.  I'm nominated for Vampire Lesbians of Sodom, and am frankly surprised as I wasn't sure that many people saw it, or that it was very well thought of by those who did.  And yet, I'm truly grateful as I put a lot of hard work  into the part and the writer, Charles Busch, is my favorite living playwright.  He writes such smart, campy shows, loaded with embedded tributes to the greats of the silver screen, and full of heart.  I loved the role of the virgin sacrifice, aka Madeleine Astarte, aka, Madeline Andrews, and would love the chance to do another of his works.  I don't expect to win tonight, but it will be nice to go and see everyone, even without a cocktail in hand, and there should be some interesting drama revolving around the fact that the nominating committee did not nominate a director for Best Musical this year.  A letter was written objecting to this (by the director of one of the prominent musicals) and so the committee allowed for member nominations.  It should be interesting, no matter what.

Final bit of news, I'm writing a novel.  Sure I am.  It's National Novel Writing month, and though, that fact slipped my mind until just now, I can make up for the five days I've lost.  Of course, I can't say it will be brilliant, but this bitch is gonna do it.

21 Day Challenge!

The last few months have been kind of rough as far as my weight goes.  Ok, let's face it, the last year has been...dicey.  But if I'm being honest with myself, weight has always been a struggle, and may very well be that until I slough off this mortal coil.  I'm getting to be ok with that, as long as I feel like I'm winning the battle. 

But this past year?  I've gained twelve pounds, and I'm just not comfortable.  I'm in between sizes, feeling unattractive, and I know something has to be done.  And so I build up giant dreams in the sky of what I'm going to do to lose the weight as quickly as possible, and yet, that plan does not include anything structured, and rather than focus on process I focus on what the scale has to say each day, and so my "plan" changes depending on what the demon scale feels like telling me that day.  Down 3 pounds?  Oh, I can afford a brownie!  Up 2?  I'm make plans to never eat again. 

And so I yoyo back and forth, spend a few days in intense workout mode, eating healthy, drinking water, and then...I slip.   It might be the tiniest slip, but in my mind, and compared with what I'd been doing, it feels like a slide, which is what it inevitably becomes as the guilt loads up and has its way with my mental health.  Before you know it I'm cramming every donut known to man down my gullet as I prepare for another few days of "being good".  And so, it ends up I don't really end up losing any weight, and in fact can end up gaining. 

Not that I can't do it, lose weight.  I've done it before.  And I don't always need to be on some regimented plan, but if I'm not, I need a motivation that will stay with me for a month or so.  After a break-up, this motivation is easy to come by, but at this particular moment in my life, the motivation isn't there and the self regimented plan isn't working.  And yet, I can't go on gaining weight, as I can  hardly stand walking by a mirror now, dreading what monster might be staring back at me.  And so I've started the "My Fit Foods" 21 Day Challenge. 

I started a couple of days ago, on the 29th, and am feeling both hungry and tired.  There's no caffeine allowed on this plan, and so I'm going through withdrawals, as usually I will drink two Diet Cokes a day, and maybe a cup of coffee.  I know this will go away after a couple of days, but in the meantime, it's hell.  But I keep on...

Here's what it entails.  I eat only their prepackaged meals, made fresh daily, with only the best carbs and lots of light proteins.  I work out, drink half my water, take vitamin supplements and drink a "cleanse" each morning.  So far, I've been eating the meals, but tomorrow starts my first "official day" and I will add the vitamins and the cleanse.  We'll see how it goes.  My goal right now...well, I'm keeping that to myself at the moment, but if I reach it when this whole thing is through, I'll be sure to let you know.

Time Travel To A Careless Meeting

I’ve wished I could re-meet you, just stumble into you at some hipster coffee shop while we wait for our grande non-fat lattes.  And once again you’d look in my eyes with that combination innocence and purpose.  We’d chat, bond over our shared loved of Lauren Graham in “Parenthood” and after awhile you’d casually brush my sleeve.  I'd wonder if it was an accident until you run your oddly delicate fingers up and down my non-existent bicep, and again, like then, I would know. 

Only this time I’d be prepared.  I’ve studied my shit up like Bill Murray in “Groundhogs Day” and you, miraculously do not remember having met before. 

And this time I would know to hold back, not to show my proverbial cards too easily, splayed out on the table in easy submission to your charms.    If I could only do that then I could wrap my arms around your zealful mystery again, put my lips on you as your tongue rushes to meet mine.

I hate fantasizing, holding fast to a non-existent you, this idealized you without the irresponsibilities, the lies of omission, without the carefully thought out/over mature decisions that shut out possibility.  But I miss that light, that wholesome, guiless, puppy dog sexuality.  Miss the way you danced and I could watch you, knowing what you’d move like later with the lights out from the seemingly careless swivel of your hips.

And yet, I know.  Know with certainty that life in this moment, the current set of situations, our separateness is for the best.  We cannot always save each other.  But we can savor each other.  Save that for a grocery store greeting card or a magnet that goes up on the fridge.  It's too clever.  Trite.  It says nothing.

If I could take a pill and make myself mysterious to you again- would I?

When you were mine, I was far from certain. 

Things I Will Miss When I Die

I will miss those great moments of being moved by something.  Those huge emotions.  Like the night in L.A., when I drunkenly stumbled to the stereo at the place I was sharing with my dear friend Berv and cranked up the stereo to hear “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”.  The depth of  emotion in Garland’s voice just produced so much longing.  I understood so much about the beauty within her, and the magic that was being produced.  And felt a longing for and a connection to sadness, because the only way you can truly feel sadness and longing is through having glimpsed true happiness.

I will miss flavors.  Lemon, pumpkin, caramel, cherry.

I will miss stars.  Driving out on the highway late at night, windows down, some fifties doo wop song in my ears, randomly exiting and then turning down a rarely travelled road.  Pulling over to the side and crawling on to the hood of my car.  Looking up into the stars in wonder.  Stars, proof of magic.

I will miss the sweet connection and companionship I get from Ira, and from Travis and Ross and Lambeau.  I've loved all my animal friends. 

I will miss holding someone I care about, lying in their arms, tucked up in them, nestled in them.  Feeling safe, and feeling like I am keeping them safe.

I will miss the frivolous things.  Daytime talk shows with their inane chatter and designer pillows.  Novelty glasses, comic book characters, Saturday morning cartoons...

 

I will miss having the kind of friend you can call and meet at the grocery store, or at Target, just to wander through and do your chores with someone.

I will miss nature.  Of feeling like a small thing amongst the majesty of the natural world that I exist in, and that was here long before me. 

I will miss the amazing feeling of a really good poop.  Sometimes that feels like the only accomplishment I need, and I rarely take it for granted.

I will miss the excitement of wandering in the woods on a trail, the feel of the air against me, the smell of wet leaves, the sound of water.

I will miss children, and their sweetness.  The way they look when they are discovering the world, their occasional faltering, their trust, their hope, their tiny little hands, the purity of them, the uncomplicated nature that I don’t know if I will ever get back.  Nothing can bring joy to a day like the sight of a kid in a Thor costume on a Tuesday, at Randalls.

I will miss the thrill of going to the movies with my mom.  The decadence of eating a big old box of buttered popcorn and drinking a Coke in the darkness, letting go of all kid-hood troubles and losing myself in the giant pictures and sounds up on the screen.  Sitting and waiting until the movie started again.  Seeing it a second time and feeling the jolt of excitement and the privilege of it.

I will miss the comfort, the surety and the retro stability of a good plaid shirt.

I will miss being bundled up in my bed with the ceiling fan on. 

I will miss flirting with that cute guy, brushing my arm up against his, and feeling his fingers brushing my bicep, realizing that he is flirting back.  I will miss the feeling of wanting to get lost in the experience of him, to dive in deep and come up gasping. 

I will miss playing dominos and shouting, laughing, singing with my crazy, perfectly imperfect family.

I will miss the wind hitting my face and fingertips.

I will miss dunking chocolate chip cookies in coffee.

 

I will miss the Hollywood Bowl.  Nights in the open air with a good friend, juggling picnic food, drinking red wine from plastic cups, listening to sumptuous music and occasionally glancing in their direction.    Whispering in their ear, straining to hear when they whisper something in mine.  Smiling next to them, knowing we are sharing a perfect night. 

 

Keep it Clean, Keep it Neat, Keep it Dainty

Back in the day, these were the rules of "clean vaudeville", the phrase that separated the respectable acts you could bring your sweetheart to, without causing embarrassment or seeing anything to lewd or shocking.  I heard the phrase today, as I'm listening to American Rose: A Nation Laid Bare: The Life and Times of Gypsy Rose Lee, on cd as I jaunt about town.  I've had a copy of it since it came out, as I've always found that period of history, and the history of burlesque entertainment kind of fascinating.  And Gypsy herself is such a mystery, hidden by the persona she created and which much of the population takes as fact, if they've even heard of the musical Gypsy, which you can't take for granted anymore that they have.  Anyway, I happened upon an audio copy in the library, and it's currently keeping me company.  I'm determined to use the phrase "keep it clean, keep it neat, keep it dainty" in something.  Either as my personal ironic motto, or in some piece of fiction of play.  We'll see. 

The other things I'm filling my head with these days...

1.  Once Upon A Time on ABC.  I can't help myself.  I know it's trite, toothless, and half hazzardly written, like some hodge-podge piece that sticks any magical component wherever it pleases, whether it's stylistically appropriate or not, and lumps Frankenstein, Mulan, Robin Hood, and King Arthur and His Knights right along with all the other fairy tales, as the whim suits them.  In this way it's not unlike another show that I hate watched for awhile, Glee.  But instead of changing the plot with no concern for reason, or plot or character drives to insert the musical number they want, the writer's do the same to justify the inclusion of a particular character or fairy tale component.  Feel like sticking the little mermaid in the show?  Well, what if she lived in Neverland?  Cool.  There ya go.  I also can't stand the way they take the Disney version of these stories as gospel, which totally removes any edge from the stories they may have once had.  And the sets!  Most of them are green screened and the characters are blatantly painted in, making what I assume to be a pretty high budget show to look cheap.  And yet, I keep watching because fairy tales are my crack. 

2.  Master Chef Junior.  Oh lord, I can't help myself!  The kids are just so damned cute, and earnest and hard working, and they're are making shit like layer cakes and Beef Wellington!  And the judges are so sweet to them, molding these little young minds and giving them lots of affirmation (and yet, we the audience can tell when they've royally fucked up, through the coded language).  Even Gordon Ramsay is less of the raging asshole I usually find him to be, and will help the kids out if they get themselves into a real pickle.  But overall, the talent and knowledge and heart of these 10-13 year olds is what keeps me watching.  They are inspiring, no matter your age, and no matter how tired you may be of competition shows.  Thanks to Kirky G for the recommendation!

3.   Night Film by Marisha Pessl.  I've coveted it this unique and creepy novel for awhile, and was recently gifted it, and color me grateful.  Just picking it up, perusing the pages, you can catch a full and complete world within.  The paper quality is gorgeous, it just feels so good to pick it up and touch.  And the story within is a haunting page turner perfect for Halloween.  It's the story of a journalist who is looking into the apparent suicide of a beautiful young girl, the daughter of the reclusive filmmaker by the name of Cordova, who's films are so disturbing they are not available anywhere except in bootlegged versions and through underground viewing events.  The book is full of screen caps of websites, and other documents and photos relative to the characters, and it perfectly enhances the feeling of getting engulfed in another world, albeit a dangerous one.  There's also an online component which is loads of fun, but not necessary to the enjoyment.  If you download the "Night Film app" to your phone or tablet you can scan photos in the book which link to additional content, including audio interviews with the characters, movie posters from Cordova's filmography, and lots of other hidden treats I'll leave it to you to discover.  I'm about a third of the way, and addicted.

4.  Mad Monster Party.  This Rankin and Bass film was a favorite of mine as a kid, as it appeared often on television, and was done in the "Animagic" style like Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer, and The Year Without A Santa Claus.  It's a parody of and homage to the Universal monster movies of the thirties and though it was originally billed as kid's fare it's peppered with adult humor and in-jokes including vocal performances by Boris Karloff and Phyllis Diller, as well as some great vocal impersonations of Jimmy Stewart, Claude Rains, Peter Lorre, and Charles Laughton.  It also features a very James Bondesque sixties mod theme song performed by Ethel Ennis, and of course, my favorite character from the film is the red headed bombshell assistant to Baron von Frankenstein, Francesska.  who sounds like Kathleen Turner and looks like a precursor to Jessica Rabbit.

If you've got any opinions on these works, recommendations for great Halloween viewing, or other thoughts, I'd love to hear them...