Nice Life...

Meet Me in My Hair

2006-11-16T09:42:00.000-08:00

Seriously. It's HUGE. And adorned with giant Minnie Mouse hairbows. Freaking precious. And I think my ball gown was modeled after the Disney "Cinderella" dress. And to that I say....AWESOME. Thaaaaank you!

Additionally, there is much squealing, ad libbing things like "Gee Warren, the Smith party is swell!", a ghost costume that consists of a literal sheet with eyeholes cut out, men in wigs, lacy parasols, a real live moving trolley and a rousing rendition of "Skip to my Lou."

For reals, kids...can you pass it up?

Don't answer that.

The "Secret Garden" Inside All Of Us

2006-10-06T14:36:00.000-07:00

Yaaaay! The wedding! It was a truly lovely day/evening that managed to be beautiful without being overdone, touching without being sappy, and incredibly fun without anyone throwing up on themselves. So well done, O'Connells!!!

The festivities began on Friday morning as Nate and I traveled via El and Metra to meet Nicole in Glenview, who had finished a whole day of teaching (poor thing). We loaded in for our Madison adventure, chatting gleefully as we got on the highway. After about 20 minutes of smooth sailing, Nicole suddenly shouted "Wait! Wait....oh SHIT! SHIT!!!!" Turns out we were headed South. Heh. Nobody had noticed, which is sort of hilarious. Luckily, we were able to turn around easily and headed up to the land of cows and Nascar fans (just kidding...kind of) until we hit an unexpected and EXTREMELY unwelcome traffic jam outside of Janesville. We were understandably pissed (we had a rehearsal and dinner to make!) and actually went through Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' five stages of grieving.

First, denial: "I see cars moving ahead! This will only take a second!" Second, anger: "What the fuck! What the fucking fuck! We have PLACES TO BE!!!!" Third, barganing: "If we can just get these cars moving, we will leave earlier next time!!! Please, GOD!" Fourth, depression: "......" (the three of us sitting in silence, staring out our respective windows). Fifth, acceptance: "Well, Megan will understand. It's really OK. We can't change road construction. We probably won't get killed."

Luckily, the madness ended right about the time we accepted it, and we were there in enough time to very quickly change and scurry over to St. Paul's on Library Mall. It was good to see everything, though pretty much everything looks different. The rehearsal went by without a hitch, and soon we were eating a delish Italian buffet at the hauntiest of our old haunts, the Wine Cellar. We chatted somewhat awkwardly with the East Coasters, and then Rachel, Jason and Debbie met up with us. The party ended, we headed over to a new Capital Bar where a newly bearded Pita Hunt was tendin'. It was nice to see him. After a few drinks, Rachel and I retired to her Dickensian boarding house, complete with community bathroom and kitchen. We collapsed on her huge and surprisingly comfortable air mattress. The next morn we enjoyed some pillow talk about her roommate's dirty previous-night sex (DO IT BABY!!! DO IT!!!! - see McPhee's blog) and then it was off to the salon.

Met the girls, ate some muffins, hair talk. It kept raining and then being all sunny and gorgeous and then raining again. Mother Nature is a teasing bitch. Our hair done, it was church and crying time. St. Paul's has a really sketchy grandma-like house attached to the church where we got dressed. There was another bridal party getting ready in the house next door, and I totally wanted to fight them West Side Story-style, but was overruled. So we got dressed and cried a little and literally attacked Steve's 2 year old nephew who was sent up to us wearing a tiny tux. A tiny tux!!!

So then the wedding happened, which was GORGE. Just lovely and perfect. My favorite funny part (cause I always have to make fun of something, if you haven't already noticed) was when the priest started randomly referencing The Secret Garden as "a story about two people who find each other- much like Megan and Stephen have found each other." One of the other bridesmaids, Lauren, and I totally muffled our laughter, as The Secret Garden is, of course, a story about a bitchy little girl growing flowers and bonding with her sickly and most likely gay young cousin. But whatevs.

So I helped the Daley's clear our stuff out of the church (they don't call it a Maid of honor for nothing - yuk yuk) and we headed over to the reception. I am, by the way, frantically trying to write my toast the whole time, to no avail. We got to the reception, greeted by N&N ("Sign the guestbook? Sign the guestbook???) and prepare for the grand entrance. There were also some dramatics, but it's all good. And that's pretty much par for the course for our friends.

The best man's toast was retardedly good. Like, I want a copy to read to my children some day. It had a thesis and like, footnotes. After that, I basically just stood up and blatherd on about The Jungle Book, and said something about being glad Steve was a heterosexual (the audience LOVED that) and probably something about The Secret Garden that brings people together. I don't really remember. All I know is I cried a little, and as Rachel said "It was a good toast - but when you cried - it became a great toast." Hooray for emotional manipulation. It was all real though. I swear.

Then a tasty salmon dinner and delish cake, and then it was dancin' time. The first dance was the cruelest thing I've ever witnessed - you've never seen people happier or more in love. I love them and all, but also kind of hate them for setting the bar at Everest-level. And then we shook it. Shook it like a Polaroid picture. There was a Soul Train line, and a really elaborate Thriller number, and Pita getting fetal on the dance floor for "Shout". Good freaking times. Simotes also forced me into a heart-to-heart which I totally loved. He also shook his face near my boobs when he thought I wasn't looking, but I saw. I saw.

Jason and I sexually harassed each other Steel-prom style, and Anna shook her moneymaker, and Debbie was loving as only Debbie can be. ; ) I forced Pita and Winks to slow-dance with me, and thus fulfilled the fantasies of both 19-year old and 21-year old Laura. She seemed sort of happy, but also "what was the big deal?"

So at the end of the dancing and the toasting and the sweatiness, we had to leave the magical ballroom and decided to drink beer out of boots. Essen Haus it was! And.....mmmm. Sleepy. I totally fell asleep at the bar. I bet that happens there a lot. And I think it was the Come Back Inn, actually. It's all kind of fuzzy now.

The next morning we ate a lot of bagels with the Fairfield crew, bid the new couple goodbye, ate some grease at Nick's, took a capital walk, drank a pint with Peter, and headed back to Illinois. (Deep sigh of satisfaction). Good times. Good times, my friends.

Remember Me?

2006-09-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Oh dear.

I am a bad little blogger. It has been about two months since my last substanative post, and for that I apologize. It's not that things haven't been happening...it's just that too much has been happening for me to wax philosophical about my life. And I'm at work and should be working, so this must be short as well. So, a summary...

1) London
Gorgeous, fabulous, surprisingly hot and muggy. Was so great to see McPhee and stomp around many historic grounds with her, defacing the beauty and history that is London. We met many ruffians (though most were American - go figure), drank some wine, saw some 'feter, and rode a double-decker bus for a total of like, 20 hours. We spoke in horrific faux accents and walked our shoes off. I also cried a lot, but in a good way. The Tower of London was particularly fascinating and phenomenal, and I stand guilty of literally putting my hands against the ancient walls and whispering "It's living history." Eeeeee. I also fell madly in love with the musical Sunday in the Park with George and consider it the "soundtrack" of my London trip. Better than Eurotrashy pop, I guess.

2) An Ideal Husband
Yeah, so I was in a play this summer. HA! Quite a departure from my lovely doomed "Dear World", every second of which was documented in this rag. Betcha didn't even know I was IN a show! Ha ha ha. Heh. Perhaps we should leave it that way. Seriously, though, it was pretty dreadful. A terrible adaptation combined with non-existant direction, stinky costumes and a set that literally broke into pieces nearly every night makes for a pretty ruff show. Plus the acting was pretty sucky. Oh well, looks good on that resume, I guess.

3) Relationship/Breakup
I'm not going into details. That is tacky and gross. Plus you've probably all heard the tale. But I know there are "holes" in my end-of-summer, a la "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I'll talk about it ad nauseum in person or via email if you are interested. But suffice to say, I am kind of sad. Eh, such is life.

4) Meet Me in St. Louis
Oh Jesus. Next show, playing at my beloved Circle Theatre, through the holidays. Come see me wear breathing-consticting clothing, dance "the Banjo", react on the Trolley and have some sort of ruff scene as a "New York Society Girl." I intend to milk the hell out of that shit. Perhaps an accent will be incorporated.

5) Wedding Stuff
Bridal shower. Check. Bachelorette party. Check. Megan riding a mechanical bull whilst wearing a sparkly tiara/veil combo and a shot glass necklace - CHECK. Photos to follow, I hope. Wedding in a week. EEEEEEE. Adulthood, here we come.

So that's my boring and unfunny recap. I don't know if anyone still checks these. We've all become delinquent. Jeremy has disappeared. But I felt the need to spread some blog-love. Peace out, mah babies.

I Know, I Know

2006-08-09T08:45:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted on London yet. I'm sorry! But it's been some sort of a whirlwind since my return, with jet lag bleeding right into tech week for An Ideal Husband, something I don't even think I've discussed on this rag. Hmmm. Telling. Anways, to tide you over, I have attached a picture above Please feel free to write whatever caption you want on this one, or perhaps make up your own (short) story about what we were doing, and the consequences of our actions. Keep in mind, this is Roachie and me. And in the mean time, I will direct you to Ms. McPhee's lovely publication in which she has highlighted some of the...highlights. Back to you soon!

London Calling!

2006-07-19T13:27:00.000-07:00

Well, my faithful readers, I must bid you "Cheerio" for a few days. I have FINALLY decided to FINALLY take a much-needed vacation. And where better to go than London, especially since I don't have to pay for a hotel room! ; ) (I think it's hilarious, by the way, that I seem to be writing this blog for a throng of strangers, when, in fact, it is written for about ten of you, who I divulge every tiny morsel of my life to anyway.)

But yes! Nine days off of work! Seven hour international flight! Projected tearful reunion with a one Rachel McPhee! (Must remember camera...) Ability to speak with faux accent in hopes that I "blend in" (will not happen). Chance to experience Bridget-Jones-style existance of eating a lot and hobbling down the streets of London in unsuitable clothing/shoes!

So much packing and planning to do. Considering that, as of Monday at 11:00 AM I still wasn't sure if I was even GOING on this trip, I think I'm doing ok. I wonder where my e-ticket is...

I'm sure that many hapless adventures will ensue from this trip. I intend to meet as many random Londoners and have as many humiliating experiences as humanly possible. It is my duty to you, my ten faithful readers.

Do not miss me too much. I love you all, and will talk to you later!

Adios!

It's De-Lovely

2006-07-06T07:50:00.000-07:00

WOW. What a weekend THAT was. I really think that at least one four-day weekend a month is necessary for the modern working person. All of my coworkers returned yesterday as better and more interesting people, which was exciting for everyone. It was a truly beautiful four days, and as much as I want to steer this "publication" away from the "first I did this and then I did that" format, there are high-larious moments that must be chronicled.

Friday
Started the weekend with a bang with my good buddy Donny, for dinner at Big Bowl followed by a showing of The Devil Wears Prada. It was a pretty sweet movie. I hate the book like no other, though I've read it about four times, thinking that it will perhaps improve. It does not. But Meryl was in icy splendor and gave a performance that almost - ALMOST rivaled her performance in the fine She-Devil. (See previous post). Apparently she's all over this "Devil" concept. And, as Donny brilliantly stated in his beautiful blog "Everything in Moderation (Including Moderation)"...(http://donbaiocchi.blogspot.com/), "If she's the devil, hell must be fabulous." Truer words were ne'er spoke. Then it was Jessica's birthday party, and of course we had to go to the shiny, spangly, all-white bar the Gramercy. It was a great group of wasted people, including this popular guy from my high school who is now engaged to one of Jessica's good friends. We had an awkward moment where he pretended that he used to be nice to me. Ha. I brought Nicole with me, and she was a hit with the many gay men, as expected.

Saturday
Apparently, every year the U of I "gang" goes down to lovely Freeport, IL to Andy's parents' house. They kindly invited me down with them, and I was very happy to accept, though less thrilled that we were leaving at 8 a.m. After driving in a stunned, hungover silence for 2 hours, we arrived at our destination. Andy's parents' house (from now on, APH) is a magical place with a large pool and unlimited alcohol resources, including a homemade wine. I wouldn't recommend it. They also had an assortment of Hostess products though, which makes up for it. We all lounged and swam and, in fascination, watched my skin burn though it was repeatedly coated in SPF 30 and covered with clothing. I think I might be part albino. A fierce game of pool volleyball was played in which I pretty much stood in the back, arms flailing uselessly. Then things start to get a little fuzzy. At one point, piano in the walk-out basement was rolled out, and Danny did his best Cole-Porter-in-De-Lovely impression and played some tunes. I drunkenly slurred "I'm gonna sing you a song, everyone!" and then proceeded to get distracted and wander off. Yeah, alcohol and sunlight exposure can be a deadly combo. Night descended, and after a 30-minute "nap" (OK, blackout), I arose ready to embrace the night and the woodsy fire pit that Andy and his dad were building. As Andy scampered through the woods shrieking "I've found kindling!" Danny and I slapped at mosquitoes and hated on Mother Nature. Eventually, Andy full-on collapsed on the ground, and, after dragging him up the hill to the house, we decided it was time to call it a night. I slept on the couch soundly, until awoken by the cat standing on my head. My reaction was as calm and subtle as one might expect.

Sunday
Because Tim and Jessica are functional adults, they were up with the sun to make us all a breakfast feast. Mmmm. After stuffing our faces, we piled in the car to return to Chicago. Not much else happened that day except that I drank a head-sized margarita (in case you haven't noticed, the theme of this post is "Shit Laura does when she's drunk") and wandered around a Blockbuster with Matt and Dawn, full o' opinions.

Monday
No work! Isn't that all you really need to know? I met up with my boys at Sidetrack for a little pre-game musical theatre, which was fun. Then I went out for "Dizzle's" birthday (my birthday gift to you, Nate, is my temporary willingness to call you by that ruff nickname ;) ) which was really fun. Played some pool, did some drinking....good times. I also got a nice workout walking about 5 miles to a mysterious party. Tee hee. Love you, Natey! 25, you're alive! Great night.

Tuesday
I did a little 4th of July celebrating at a BBQ in Andersonville, which was really fun. I learned to play the mysterious game of "bags", which is basically like that game you would play at the end-of-the-year fourth grade picnic where you hurl a corn-filled bag at a hole in a large piece of wood. If you walk down the streets of my neighborhood on a dark summer night, you'll always see people huddled in alleys playing this game with the same secrecy and determination that others reserve for craps or cockfighting. I kind of get it now...bags is very addictive. And there was a lot of cursing as well, which is always fun. Some people in the neighborhood shot off a bunch of screaming firecrackers as well -I love how we Americans celebrate our country's birth by creating Sounds of Terror. Not that I have a problem with that. It did make me miss our Madison 4ths in which we would shoot Roman Candles out of old wine bottles. We would always go in with the most responsible of intentions, aiming away from things, and then after about 10 minutes we were all "How much will you give me if I can shoot this into the tailpipe of that Jetta?" Mmm. Good times. So that was fun, along with other stuff too, that I'm not going to mention in print. ; )

And now, we're left with the best news of all - Meg and Steve are moving to Chicago!! Oh, how I love to steal their thunder. I just like having the scoop early. I think it's going to be great for them, and am totally excited. So I am very happy, and you should all be too.

Happy Independence Day, y'all!!!

Top 3 List : Great Bad Movies

2006-06-15T07:31:00.000-07:00

So I haven't updated in a while, because I don't really have much to say lately. The "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" format is wearing a bit thin - perhaps I've lost the abililty to find the beauty and humor in the boring and ordinary. Gasp! I was inspired after a food-court meal with Donny to discuss some of the finer points in American cinema. But then I decided to write about my favorite terrible movies instead. Here are three.

3) Center Stage, 2000

Ok, how does one describe the wonder and majesty that is Center Stage? Shall we start with Peter Gallagher's massive, incredulous eyebrows? The backstory that Peter Gallagher was once a celebrated...Ballerina? The puslating heat of Mandy Moore's "I Wanna Be With You" underscoring a magical motorcycle ride/ill-advised hook-up? The selling points of this remarkable coming-of-age, struggling-with-bulimia, and improving-your-shitty-turnout tale are numerous in the extreme.

Center Stage tells the story of a young woman named Jody who is kind of a bad dancer, but whose winsome face and plucky optimism lead her to the fictitious American Ballet Academy in New York. Jody comes to ABA by way of Naive, Ohio, and is thus unprepared to deal with the harsh realities of the ballet world. On the way, she meets the token sassy black girl, the token bulimic bitch and the token remarkably obviously gay man doing an unconvincing impression of a hotheaded ladies' man ballerina. (I'm SO SICK of that cinematic stereotype!) The film also features a one Mr. Peter Gallagher, slummin' it hardcore as the aforementioned former man-ellerina whose majestic eyebrows somewhat lift the stink of the terrible acting. For the acting stinks, my friends. Stinks like an old ballet shoe left out in the rain.

Along Jody's journey to self-discovery, friends are made, bitches are shot down, toes are bloodied and calloused, and many gorgeous shots of New York are featured. It must also be mentioned that the film features Debra Monk as a claws-out stage mother, which is reason enough to check it out. And if that won't get this VHS in your dusty VCR, let me tell you about the film's crowning moment, the Ballet of Suspended Disbelief in which Jody dances her badly turned-out shit off, all whilst making physically impossible costume and set changes. It must be seen to be believed.

2) Beverly Hills Madam, 1986

So technically, this is a made-for-TV movie. I think. I've never heard of it being released in a theatre or on DVD (curses!), and the production values are laughably low. I recall seeing a boom in one of the shots, I think. It's been a long time. I first saw this film on Lifetime Television for Women in like, 1993 with my best friend from grade school, Katie. Katie and I were graduating from Barbie dolls, and thought that watching smutty, soft-core, poorly acted faux-porn would mature us into women. It really only made us want to be LA hookers, and play a quiet game of "Madam" Barbie.

This movie was so insane and so good that I went though a brief period where I thought I had only dreamed it. But then I caught the last 20 minutes or so on TV about 3 years ago, and knew the dream was true. (And I'm not sure if this is exactly what happens in the movie. It's just what I remember.)

Faye Dunaway is a hard-headed businesswoman of influence and esteem in her Beverly Hills mansion. When she takes in a large-haired runaway named...Karen(?) she can spot talent. Talent for WHORING, that is! Karen lives with Faye in her mansion for some reason, and slowly and stupidly comes to realize that Faye is a trader in the Oldest Profession. Dazzled by all the stunning, permed hookers stuffing wads of cash into their designer wallets and wearing shoulder pads too big and beautiful to be true, Karen approaches Faye, saying in a halting voice, "I know what you do, and I've...been with men before." So Faye sends Karen off to some dude who "screens" the hookers to make sure that they're good at the sexing (nice job) and then buys her some outfits and makes her walk with a book on her head. Because the most important part of being good on your back is making sure that your upright posture is excellent (the hell?) Faye's "girls are ladies" and she instructs them on how to be cultured and classy.

There are some other stock prostitutes as well - Mary(?) the college student who gets knocked up by her yacht-owning john and then thrown on her stretch-mark covered ass by Faye; Claudia the party-girl druggie who, lacking the money to pay for her bottle of Southern Comfort, does the delivery boy in exchange; and Robin Givens as herself. Ha ha, just kidding. A lot of stuff happens that I can't remember, including Karen being purchased by some rich dude as a "present" for his 18-year old son (EEEEW). She falls in love with said virgin/chump and they start to date, to the understandable horror of Dad. When Karen's filthy, filthy secret is revealed, V/C dumps her, and the Newest Member leaves the Oldest Profession, after giving an impassioned monologue to Faye about how "(she's) a piece of meat!" Faye doesn't really seem to care though, and neither does the movie, as it immediately forgets about Karen and focuses on Druggie Claudia who sends Robin Givens in her place to hook at the place of a new guy. But whoops, Faye didn't "check him out" and Robin is killed in an assumedly gruesome way. Some other stuff happens, and Faye then decides to leave the OP. She leaves the Whorehouse and seemingly all her worldly possessions in the hands of Druggie Claudia. Some businesswoman. The last shot is Faye having a standoff with Claudia (who may or may not be her estranged daughter) as the phone rings. "Answer it, Claudia." Faye intones in her best Mommie Dearest-while-subdued voice. Claudia does, and the cycle of whoring and killing and shoulder-pad wearing continues.

1) She-Devil, 1989

Hold the phone, y'all. If you thought Roseanne was good in...Roseanne...you've seen nothing yet. NOTHING. She-Devil is without a doubt, one of my favorite movies of all time. It's totally campy and gross and filled with cliches and manages to be horrifying sexist and ass-kickingly feminist at the same time. I really need to buy it on DVD. If it doesn't exist on DVD, please excuse me while I begin my letter-writing campaign. You'd feel the same way if you saw it.

Ruth (Roseanne) is a lonely and bored housewife, not unlike you and me. She lives in a house of tack with really sick wallpaper, has two incredibly nasty and unwashed children, and is the possessor of a horrifying facial mole complete with a hair that she likes to look at in close-up mirrors. The mole is really another character in the film. The movie opens with Ruth at a department store, looking at women who in the 80's would have been considered pretty, but in our time just look like circus clows, what with the fluorescent makeup and frizzy hair. Whilst getting a pedicure, she watches an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous starring a romance novelist named Mary Fisher. Mary Fisher is of course played by the incomparable Meryl Streep. And yes, I've seen Sophie's Choice and The Bridges of Madison County and One True Thing and Angels in America. And hand's down, this is the greatest Meryl Steep performance of ALL TIME. So basically Mary is beautiful and perfect and lives in Barbie's dreamhouse. We luckily get to meet Mary soon after at a party that Ruth attends with her nerd husband, Ed Begley Jr. (LOVE!) "Bob" and Mary fall in love and embark on a affair that includes going sailing, running on a beach and having high-larious sex on her giant round bed. After Bob leaves Ruth for Mary after she accidentally serves his parents a casserole with a dead rat in it (oh, poor housewife!) she goes all crazy in the magnified mirror and decides to destroy all of Bob's assets, which he helpfully lists in the previous scene.

I can't and won't try to elaborate of the awesomeness of what follows. I will instead give a list of some of the highlights of this movie.

- House blown up by aerosol cans in a microwave
- Latino houseboy who floats in the pool on a giant inflatable raft
- Pink laptop
- That short awesome lady who played the principal in Kindergarten Cop
- Senior citizens on pep pills
- Meryl Streep having a Meda moment after breaking her nail on a washing machine
- Incontinence
- Elaborate gravestone for a deceased dog
- Ed Begley Jr. having sex on a Xerox machine
- Love in the Rinse Cycle
- Unexplained mole removal
- Sassy, life-affirming montage of Roseanne painting a warehouse

I can't believe you haven't rushed off to Blockbuster yet.

The Art of Seduction

2006-06-06T07:42:00.000-07:00

Subtle, isn't it?

Thanks, Jase.

Looooooong Weekend

2006-05-30T12:29:00.000-07:00

The past five days have been too action-packed to fully examine in a truly nuanced and thoughtful entry. Because of this, and because you WANT IT, I am going to summarize this glorious Memorial Day 2006 as best I can. If I remember a particularly hilarious incident, I will go into more detail. Hang on, kids.

Thursday Night
Ok, this was technically the start of my endless weekend.
I went out with Jessica (now former roommate) and her boyfriend Tim. The train broke down while we were underground, and we decided to open the doors and walk through the tunnel like Mole people. This was sort of fun until we were on the Jackson station escalator going up, and we heard the distinct rumble of the now-moving El. We then ran backwards down the escalator and leapt into the train while it momentarily paused for us. It was exciting, but stupid. Plus, the handrail on that escalator was FILTHY and made our hands all dirty. Though Jessica generously offered her butt for me to wipe my hand on (this is the sign of a true friend, y'all), I decided to instead hold my filth-hand far away from the rest of myself, undoubtedly freaking out others on the train, especially girls in white miniskirts. Ha. Not much else happened, except I got really drunk and told a lot of lies to strangers, which isn't that uncommon. An unfortunate guy tried to talk to me at some bar. For no reason I yelled, "Yeah, I'm just waiting for my fiance to come and pick me up. He's a physician, you know." Fiance? PHYSICIAN?? At least make it plausible, DrunkLaura. Then I think I told him I was a stockbroker. He was understandably disbelieving.

Friday
So I took Friday off of work to pack, organize, clean and take a load of stuff over to the new place. Yeeeeeah. The acidic hangover prevented that until 3 p.m. when I finally dragged my ass off the couch and did some stuff. I did move a lot of stuff in however, and celebrated the accomplishment of no longer being hungover by drinking a large margarita. Mmmm. Yay for Mexican food.

Saturday
Moving day! Blech. It was a blur of cursing and yelling and stubbed toes and carrying and human-sized dust bunny-finding and sweating and bleaching. Ahhh. Like poetry, it was. But I did manage to move all of my shit in, which was good. And my lovely bed was delivered and assembled in literally 37 seconds. Impressed? You bet.

So after all of the verbs involved with moving, I met Nicole, Nate and the Ryans for a sushi dinner at Rise. Ok, I'm basically a sushi virgin (I had a California roll like, once) and Kelly Pickler-ed all over myself, saying things like "So, that's the not-cooked stuff, right?", and trying to pronounce Japanese words, to the delight and horror of all around me. So worldly and sophisticated. Because we were with Nicole's parents, the night obviously couldn't end there. We drove back to the New York building to drop off their car and have some drinks in the area. Now, as you Chicagoans know, there really isn't a whole lot to do within walking distance, especially if you are not a gay man. Or even a fruit fly. So Nate got on Metromix and was all like "This Kit Kat Club looks like it has good drinks - what is it?" It was my duty to inform everyone of the bachelorette parties and the screaming and the burlesque drag queens. Hilariously, Nicole's mother was all "Sounds good to me!" and her dad made a high-larious lube comment I don't feel I can repeat here.

So we headed off to the Kit Kat. Good lord. It was just as I imagined it would be, with a steel-abbed drag queen and so many shrieking bachelorettes and the desperate single women who love them. I had fun pointing out the window at all of the leather-clad, mustached men in town for ILM, or IML, or whatever disgusting leather convention was in the PALMER HOUSE HILTON all weekend. Help. A bride-to-be at the next table was "dared" to dance with Nicole's dad, which he enthusiastically did, despite wearing a cast-boot on his foot. That's a man who knows how to party. He then hilariously said "I feel as if I don't belong here" which was the quote of the evening. Until we got in a cab to go to Clark street and the Jamaican cab driver was giving Nicole's mom shit about being out with us. She then smacked him in the arm and then turned to us and deadpanned "I just hit the cab driver." Oy, my sides. After all that I was pretty much spent and headed home. I hope I didn't miss anything else too awesome. It was really a Top Ten night.

Sunday
Oh, so hot! Soooo hot! And no AC, which was an unpleasant realization. I sweated it out on the couch for many many hours, waiting for the sweet release of an air-conditioned car ride to Jenny and Stash's Memorial Day Suburban Married Couple BBQ of Fun. Alas, when Cherie rolled up, two hours late, the car was not air-conditioned. I didn't even know I could complain that much. And I am a complainer, my friends. Oh well, it was worth it to sit in a yard and eat burgers and drink Mai Tais and bask in the reflected glow of people who are really really happy and lovely. We waited until all the non-musical-theatre-loving couples headed back to their homes for sports or sex or something and then made a move to the piano room. My friend Danny and Jenny's friend Galen came prepared this time, with literal crates of music, and the grand sing-along began. And lasted for like, 4 hours. Oh man, it was so good. Galen is a musical genius and can play anything, and all those present were like, phenomenally talented, so it was pretty great. I sang many a ditty and I must say, brought tears to the eyes of Danny with some torch songs. God, we're so gay. And great. I also sang some Side Show with Jenny (who is also some sort of genius) and was all ruff about it. Nice progression and maturity, me. Anyway, it was a lovely night of wine and song and friendship and many other life-affirming things.

Monday
Memorial Day! Nicole and I wanted to be lazy but still feel productive, so we headed off to the beach. Hooray! Beach time! We chose the Montrose Beach over North Beach, since neither one of us was feeling particularly svelte or bitchy. We found a lovely spot surrounded by fat people that inadvertently made us feel really thin and glamorous. We didn't stay all that long, as it started raining, but it was fun anyway. We then picked up Matt and jetted to the South Loop to go to Target/pick up the rest of my shit from the apartment. I was moving a box off a shelf and didn't realize that there was a phone book on top of it. Yeah. A phone book TO THE FACE is never a good feeling. My nose is now kind of purple and swollen and there's a little cut at the top of it. VERY Marcia Brady hit-with-football. Ouch. We then went to Target for like, hours and spent so much money. Target is evil. We finished up the evening by going to dinner with Matt's BF Bryan at a cute little cafe by our apartment and then buying various chocolate products. The weekend ended in pj's, watching Matt's many Sex and the City DVDs. Seriously. Great weekend.

Remember when I said this would be short? Just kidding! Happy belated holiday, all!

Gateway to Hell

2006-05-23T07:18:00.000-07:00

Well, for the first time in four years, I've visited a state besides Illinois or Wisconsin. That's right, four years. Sheesh. While this was quasi-exciting, my excitement was quickly destroyed when I remembered that the state I was visiting was....Missouri. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the "Show Me State." But seriously...Missouri?

An old high school friend whose old room I will soon be occupying in my new apartment was getting married this weekend. We're not particularly close, but she invited me to the wedding, and I didn't have anything better to do, which is sad. So I grumpily consented to drive the 5 hours to St. Louis. If I knew then what I know now, I would have stayed hidden in my windowless cell of a bedroom, in sweet, safe Chicago.

First of all, the drive to St. Louis...not so pretty. Farm fields and restaurants that I thought had gone out of business years ago abounded. I drove down with my new roommate Dawn and my other new roommate Matt's mom (I know) which was amusing, thankfully. We stopped at a roadside Cracker Barrel (shudder) and made fun of the many pseudo-Southern accents we encountered, and the Colonel Sanders-style manager. We met said manager because while cutting through her "Country Smothered Chicken" (shudder again), Matt's mom discovered that it was basically raw. Nice. This is the first of many food-as-instrument-of-death incidents on this lovely trip.

So we made it into St. Louis without further incident and were treated to the sight of the famous St. Louis arch. Eh. I commented bitterly "It just looks like a big frown." Childish, I know. The wedding ceremony was held in the garden of a lovely old house in the burbs, which was nice. Of course, the second the wedding party got in place, it started to downpour. They went along with the wedding while we frantically snapped open umbrellas. Rather awesomely, the rain stopped when the bride started walking down the aisle.

The reception was rather ruff and filled with hundreds of boring toasts from random people - never have a "and now I'll pass the mic to anyone who wants to say anything" policy at the wedding reception. Especially when you haven't fed your guests yet. Jen's stepfather had a particularly painful toast that involved playing a spliced recorded question and answer session featuring the bride and groom. It's too boring to get into on this already boring post, but suffice to say it was about 20 minutes too long. So they finally fed us, and I gorged myself on the free wedding food. This proved to be a grave miscalculation. For whatever reason, I got really really sick and spent the majority of the wedding curled in a semi-fetal position off the dance floor. Goood times.

So we left the wedding of endless toasts and mysterious stomach pain and headed back to the hotel for some well-deserved rest. To save on costs, Dawn, Matt's mom and I were all sharing a room. Yeaaaaah, not such a good idea. Not to be rude, but Matt's mom....is a snorer. And not just your average, mildly-annoying-yet-somewhat-comical snorer. I'm talking gasps and gulps and death-rattles. Seriously. Every time it sounded like she was quieting down there would be an enormous burst of hideous noise. I swear to God, that's the soundtrack of Hell. Dawn managed to fall asleep somehow, but I lay catatonic for 2 hours. Finally, I couldn't bear it any longer and went across the hall to poor Matt's room, where I forced my way in for some sleep.

So yeah. St. Louis...not so much. We managed to escape without further tragic incident, but it was still a pretty miserable time. I turned and watched the sinister arch (and seriously, doesn['t the above picture make it look scary and ominous?) grow smaller and smaller as we drove away. I seriously contemplated falling on my knees and kissing the ground when we entered Chicago. Nice to be home.

Ode to Jason

2006-05-18T07:36:00.000-07:00

I realized while cleaning out my "downloads" folder at work, that a one Jason Whittle has sent me, via AIM, numerous strange images. I need to clean out that folder, but don't want to lose these precious images. I thus present them here. Let these images take you on a whirlwind journey of what Jase and I do when he's steelin' and I'm marketing.

This is a beautiful banner that Jason made me for my blog. He wouldn't let me post it though, cause the colors were "wrong." I'm still waiting for my revised version. Nice subtitle. Sigh.

We discussed the history of Chicago. I, shockingly, knew nothing. I was quickly educated via this image.

I asked Jason for the 400th time what he did with steel. This was his answer. So macho!

Jason's apartment. Wooo.

It's that puppet from that dude! Remember that dude? The one with the puppets? Does this remind anyone else of either a) David Furmoto's mask class or b) that scary puppet from Trojan Women that died?

Aw, yeah. Sing it, baby.

I don't remember why this was sent. So many personalities!

The snowy beauty of Madison. I believe I was bitching about some sort of freezing ice storm, and this pastoral scene was smugly sent to me. Hmph.

It's Jeremy! Shocking!

I couldn't delete the pic below. :(

Formatting!!!!

Museums are Fun - Uploading Pics...Not So Much

2006-05-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been a while my babies. Everytime I tried to upload pics from the Chicago ADVENTURE I would f something up and end up throwing the computer down in disgust. Metaphorically, that is. Plus, I've actually been pretty busy at work. Guhhh?

Anyway, it's worth the wait just to see the backs of these fine-looking folks, isn't it? Never be obsessed with your own ass. (See previous post).

And also, we haven't see each other in a while. What's up? The Field Museum wants to know.

Look, I learned something! And Jason helpfully cupped my boob. Those boys love a grope. (Again, refer to previous post.)

Anna was our photographer, so we didn't get many shots of her. Boo. But she did take a moment to be fake-bummed about relationships/life. Awwwww.

There were lots more pictures, but I'm not going to risk the possibility of a Blogger-delete. As mentioned previously, I don't format well. Formatting is dead to me. Suffice to say, we had a great afternoon - just imagine images of us fake-frolicking with giant dead animals, seeing ourselves as ancient Egyptians, eating omlettes and photographing random kids. Nice. The pictures in your head are so much cooler than those taken by a camera, right?

Who Needs the Nitty Gritty?

2006-05-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

Hey, look everyone! It was my birthday! Wooo! Thanks to everyone who made it, and everyone who couldn't: a) I missed you, and b) you are dead to me. It was a good time, as you can see. (I will post the Sunday post-birthday ADVENTURE pics separatley. Stay tuned)

Because Anna, with her eye for irony/hilariy, took these pictures, many are a tad ruff. I will thus present the birthday photos in the ascending order of ruffness.

(Forgive the crappy formatting of this entry. Technology and I have only a passing acquaintance. )

Aw, Nicole and Jason! (and Jason's hat)

Hey, look! Anna and Nate! Nate was not drunk/murderous. I think the flash might have been a little bright.

Sideways Jason found a huge-ass lemon. Good times.

This is Eric and I doing our best human impressions of the Comedy/Tragedy mask. We're actors, see. The more I look at this picture, the more scared I am. Moving on.

Yeah, that's my ass. Jealous? At one point, apparently to appease a table of drunken frat-types, the men in my party demanded that I stick my ass out. I refused. Donny then squatted upon the floor and was all, hey Laura, bend over and talk to me. In my drunken state, I obliged, not realizing one related to the other. I believe the man on the left is Donny. This is all the photographic evidence we have of this crafty creature.

Why waste film on your reveling friends when you can take pictures of the backs of people's heads? But seriously....HA! The one on the right was unironically wearing an Easter bonnet. No comment. The lady below had ratted out her new weave especially for the occassion. I think she caught on to the pointing and laughing from our area and hurried to the bathroom where she combed out said weave. I wish there was an "after" pic because...not so much better. Ha ha.

Oof, that weave.

It was quite the gathering of people and places and alcohol. Worlds collided , which was both fun and a little weird. I think over all, everyone got along with the noble goal of getting drunk. And, truly, what nobler goal is there? Besides getting laid, which is essentially a by-product of getting drunk.

So thanks for coming out, everyone! It was one of most fun birthdays in recent memory. I would say of all-time, but let's be honest, nothing can beat the colored-sand-creation-in-jelly-jars followed by The Care Bear Movie blowout of 1986. That just wouldn't be fair. Care Bear Stare!

Ooof.

And a Very Merry Un-birthday to All of You...

2006-04-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

Well, Jason has demanded a "musing on the passing of years", insisiting that "milestones need blogs". I don't really have anything to say about my birthday. I will instead provide quotes from smarter people than me.

"Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional." -Chili Davis

Ha ha. You said it, man! (Should i know who Chili Davis is?)

"Everyone is the age of their heart." -Guatemalan Proverb

Awww. That one was nice. Warms my aged heart.

I will leave you with the musings of one of the great thinkers of our time, a person we as a society have chosen to revere and turn to for fashion and wedding-planning tips:

"23 is old. It's almost 25, and that's almost mid-twenties." - Jessica Simpson

I couldn't have said it better, Jessica. Though today I am 24, your words are as resonant as they were a year ago.

Hope everyone has a great day!! ; )

Deer World

2006-04-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

So I've decided that nature hates me. I went with Nicole yesteday to see everyone's favorite buck Nate in "Bambi: A Life in the Woods" at Theatre-Hikes. For those of you who are unaware, or do not read the Daigle's blog, Theatre-Hikes is a group that performs plays in the wilderness. A scene is played and then we all walk to another clearing and another scene is played. Cute concept, nice fresh air, seems like a good time. And it was, until Mother Nature decided to bitch-slap me across the face. Eyes streaming, nose trumpeting, throat scratchy, I wandered blindly through the woods whilst deer frolicked. But props to Daigle for not one, but two death scenes, and a brief cameo as a frightened bird. There were many hippie mothers with their granola-eating, walking-stick carrying children, which for some reason enchanted me. I love kids. The woods- not so much.

So Bambi was just the last scene of a long and fun weekend. Friday I saw my friend/future roommate Dawn's show - kind of a pre-millennial Sex and the City, only instead of having sex, they knit. Not quite as scandalous, but cute regardless. I then met Jess, Andy and some others at Goose Island in Wrigleyville (eeee) for some drinks. Andy got a little ripped and decided it was time to whore me out, an act that consisted of him yanking my sensible non-slutty black t-shirt off my shoulders and literally shoving me in the path of men. It went as well as expected. We went to Taco Bell though, so I think I broke even.

Saturday morning I went to the eye doctor to finally order some new contacts -my current pair is about 10 years old. The eye doctor was unexpectedly hot, nice and unmarried, which was exciting and a little embarrassing. It's never good to have attractive people touch your face in a clinical way. I tried to bat my eyes at him a little, but they were pretty dilated. I might have to fake some sort of recurring eye ailment. That sounds like a Miranda storyline. OOOF.

My aunt, uncle and four cousins were in town for some reason, so I met them and my parents for dinner. It was nice and uneventful. BUT my aunt did leak the shameful secret that my grandmother recently found out that the McClains are NOT Irish, but in fact Scottish. GUH??? Her family is from Ireland, but my grandpa's was apparently from Scotland. This may not seem like such a big deal, but the McClain family has always been kind of freakily proud of their 100% Irish-ness. So, I've been living a lie. I might have to throw out my ironic "Everyone Loves an Irish Girl" T-shirt. It's not really true anyway.

After this chilling revelation, I went to Jenny and Stash's new house in Mount Prospect, which turned out to be SO fun. The great thing about Jenny/Stash parties is a) Lots of delicious food, which included a bucket of chicken(!) this time; b) oh so much alcohol; and c) a full guest roster of people who love musical theatre more than I do, always including someone who plays the piano. So the night turned into a large drunken singalong. Nerdy? Yup. Fun? Absolutely.

And then Bambi. And with that, this Monday weekend recap is complete. Thanks for stopping by everyone. And don't forget 404 Wine Bar on Saturday. Good times.

Dear Tolerance,

2006-04-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

I never thought it would come to this. I don't know what I've done, but I feel like you've deserted me. I beg you not to do this. Remember the good times we've had? Remember that time at Peter Hunt's party where you helped me stomach 10 glasses of Wop from that giant orange camping cooler? Or that time at Megan's when we played Quarters and Flip Cup all night and were totally fine to go to work the next morning? Have you forgotten the keg stands, the tequila shots, the post-show cast parties? All those nights at Perkins when you helped me eat mozzarella sticks and pancakes? You were by my side in the bathtub behind the Hunt House as we toasted JG with Korbel. You always had my back then.

So what went wrong? Where were you at the skin care party when 2 glasses of wine (once child's play to you) inebriated me to the point of purchasing anti-aging products? Out for a smoke break? What about New Year's, when a mere one drink bewitched my senses and made me behave in ways most uncharacteristic? Huh?

I was willing to overlook these instances, thinking that you would come back to me. But Wednesday night was the last straw. All I wanted was to hang out with you and my friend Donny, watch a little ANTM, have a few drinks and head home sober. But no. You stubbornly refused to show up, and I ended up falling asleep on the El and sitting at my computer, stunned all the next day. My head hurts. My heart hurts too. This humiliation will not be tolerated. I expect to see your sorry ass functioning again, or heads will roll. Roll, I say. You think about that.

Your friend?
Laura

Sesame Street on Crack

2006-04-12T12:13:00.000-07:00

So this is the dude from the Steel Prom that we missed. Upon seeing the large, full-color pic, I've literally never been so disappointed. Look at those characters! WTF??? The green stick guy lurking in the corner? I believe he's supposed to represent some sort of nationality. I only wish I could hear what their voices sound like. I wonder if the guy like, drinks a glass of water while the curmudgeon and "Woozy" get into a loud argument about kids today and the ethnic green been chuckles in the background.

Oh, What a Night

2006-04-06T08:10:00.000-07:00

Oh, where to begin. If I had known then where last night would take me, I would have brought my camera.

So, Jason is in town again, and last night he attended the "Metals Conference" or something at the lovely Hyatt Regency downtown. I was summoned downtown to meet him, with the plan to ditch the steel industry and go out to some cool bars across the river. However, when I entered the lobby of the hotel, I knew that this night would be different. First of all, there was some sort of other party happening in which there were many flashing colored lights, a sushi chef on some sort of rotating platform, and, at the center, a small Asian man doing acrobatics. There was also some Siegfried-and-Roy-style "mood music" and a spangled unitard involved. We stood and laughed a while at this spectacle and the acrobat, while making many a Ryan Winkles reference, and then Jason decided to show me the steel conference for a sec. Please allow me to set the scene for you....

1) Literally hundreds of drunken old men in suits
2) Literally ten women DECKED OUT in their finest, their outfits including but not limited to:
- hundreds of spangly sequins
- plastic flip-flops with flowers on them worn with nylons
- bright red suede pumps with large pearls on them
- head-to-toe crushed velvet
- bouffants
- giant rhinestones
- fringed "gypsy" shawls
3) A silent auction featuring such coveted items as a "Hooters Basket" (suggested price of $60), two family passes to the Railroad museum (suggested value of $80- winning bid - $20), and many shitty-looking paintings.
4) An old man in head-to-toe Boy Scout regalia pushing a cart and singing softly to himself
5) A comedian/ventriloquist with three puppets - a magical purple monster named "Woozy", an old "curmudgeon", and a Haitian guy or something, who was made of wood. (We didn't actually see said comedian, but the program told us all about him. Apparently, his characters are beloved because they are "relatable".)
6) The most intense band of life, featuring three wizened old men in matching suits reminiscent of the Temptations, a full brass section and a vacant-eyed man with a high blond ponytail.
7) Free booze.

So, as you can see, we obviously couldn't leave yet. It was just too good. I immediately got all ruff and started making dirty eyes at groups of old men to freak them out, while pretending to be Jason's wife/girlfriend at the silent auction table, loudly demanding that he bid on items for me, such as an autographed picture of Arnold Palmer. We then hit the dance floor with like, 8 other old people. There were many ruff sweaty men attempting to pick up very ruff be-spangled women, which was awesome. And you know a lot of dudes were there with their mistresses. I thus proclaimed myself Jason's "Steel Whore", which I thought was really funny. Lots of booze by that point. There were also many slow dances in which Jason and I made sure we were right in front of the band and held each other while gazing rapturously at the flashing Metals Industry lights. I'm not going to lie, there was some choreography involved. There was also a really ruff old couple that we want to cut in with, but lacked the courage. It's probably for the best. All the while we were dancing we kept yelling "this is going to make the best blog entry EVER!!!!" We are ruff.

So we literally closed out the Steel party and got some booze for the road. We then decided that we had to go swimming, so we went to the gift shop to purchase some swimming shorts for Jason. Alas they had none. Although it's good we didn't buy any, cause we then found out that the hotel didn't have a pool. WTF?? We were all sad when we heard that and then Jason yelled "Guess we'll just use the bathtub!!" and we laughed all gaily. So then we ended up going out to this very trendy bar called Rockit that was basically like a clean frat party. Some fake-baked hipster dude was hitting on some drunken girl, which provided amusement.

We somehow ended up at the corner 7-11, where Jason actually bought those hot dogs that sit in the warming thing all day. I was appropriately horrified, but still managed to eat a three-pack of Ho-Hos in one gulp.

Seriously, blog shout-out to my good friend Jason. It's not everyone that can make a Steel Industry party so hilariously fun. So thanks for the magical Steel Prom.

What I Did on My Last Weekend

2006-04-03T07:32:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been awhile, friends. I know you were all on the edges of your respective seats, biting your nails, waiting with bated breath for new details of my life. I know, it's pretty exciting...

Actually, the last two weekends have been really fun and filled with activity. Wuh?? Gaaaaah???? It's true, though! Hooray! Last weekend was a fun-filled orgy of bridesmaid dresses, multi-media productions of weakly scripted plays, giant hamburgers, Irish bars with week-old green beer and worlds of college friends colliding. Gooooood times.

This past weekend started with a really really rough happy hour at some sort of downtown steakhouse and many drunken coworkers. I had an audition the next day, so I decided to be a good and responsible person and sip alcohol while chugging gallons of water. It was exactly as much fun as it sounds. Well, actually it was kind of fun to watch the girls from work, usually so put-together and Stepford-y, get totally wasted and look all rough. Finally, the night had to end, after basically everyone either went home or literally disappeared into the night, so I headed down south for sleeping.

Saturday there was some sort of major construction on the El, so a ride that normally takes 30 minutes was stretched to over an hour of stalled-on-the-tracks fun. Though there were like, 50 empty seats on my train, a random old lady found it necessary to sit right next to me and mutter the whole time. When the train stopped for the 10th time, she turned to me and ominously said "Ain't no one gonna get where they goin'." It was really creepy. I think she passed gas too. It was a fun train ride.

Then after the audition (in which I was asked to sing another part of my song "louder" - I happily agreed) I got a phone call from Eric, inviting me to meet he and Donny at the MCA to see the Andy Warhol exhibit. I just love the way that sounds. Sooo cultured. I had never been there before, so it was very exciting for me. I love me a museum. It was a very fun afternoon, with many opportunities to a) stand silently in front of crazy-looking paintings with an expression of deep concentration and b) be inappropriate and laugh at priceless works of art, such as a big-ass sculpture of a baby that freaked the hell out of us. I am now convinced that the only reason we think babies are cute is because they are small. Large babies = big blobby freaks. We continued our day of culture by eating a seriously huge meal, complete with booze and dessert and then going to my apartment to watch 8th & Ocean (NOT a good show) and play Apples to Apples whilst drinking tap water. My apartment rules. Oh, and P.S., Apples to Apples - not so fun with three people. And the 8th & Ocean pretty much cancelled out any "smart points" we earned by going to the musuem. So all was right with the world.

Yesterday was a big event for me - the first time I got to tag along with Nicole to one of those huge wholesale gift shows where she gets all her unique jewelry and fabulous handbags. There were seriously thousands of randoms at the Rosemont Convention Center (where my senior prom was held - aaaaa) and sooo many booths with sketchy people of indiscernable origins hawking sparkly jewels and knockoff handbags. THANKS. There were also these really random booths with like, dip and children's race cars. 99% of the people there were hella sketchy, so in addition to the shopping orgy, Nicole and I had the opportunity to laugh and laugh at people. A perfect combination really. Much $ was spent. Oooops. We celebrated our purchases with huge pieces of cheesecake from (where else?) The Cheesecake Factory.

So yeah. It was a swell weekend. Boozin', auditions, culture, children's board games, cheap purchases and cheesecake. And a reasonable amount of gay. Woooohoooo.

Battle of Some Bands

2006-03-23T07:54:00.000-08:00

So now that the show is over, I have my Friday and Saturday nights back. This is most definitely a good thing, though very strange. To try and "shake things up" so to speak, Nicole, her friend Marina and Marina's brother and brother's girlfriend decided to go hear a band play on Saturday night.

Now, I am not really the "going to see a band play" type. I have nothing against bands, but two scenarios always happen when I see shows. Either a) I am stone-cold sober, bobbing awkwardly in the crowd and sort of trying to sing along to songs that I never know the lyrics to, or b) ragingly, obscenely drunk and bobbing madly in the group and shouting made-up "lyrics" limbs a-flailing.

The last time we saw this band I was pretty wasted, so I decided that I would be an adult and keep my wits about me. So, while the experience was fun, there was still some awkwardness to it. The band that played before the one we came to see I dubbed "Sad Band". While the music they played was not sad in and of itself, the band in general seemed to be. The lead singer was a poor man's Jack Black-wannabee who kept talking about crowd surfing and kept screaming at us to "give it up" or something, as we all looked at each other in confusion. They were four guys in jeans and blazers (very pseudo-hipster), and then the keyboard player who kind of looked like Bruce Villanch (the bearded beast who writes the Oscar "jokes" - I believe he also starred in Hairspray). This guy was more like Bruce's ne'er-do-well brother though, being dirty and disillusioned-looking. At one point he was playing the keyboard with one hand, a beer in the other. I can't imagine how he hooked up with Jack Black and co, but I think that's a story I'd like hearing.

The band we came to see was really good though, and played many a "funny" song (one containing an electric version of the "Brokeback Mountain" theme) and many a cover. Nicole went ballistic when they played "Hot for Teacher" and kept threatening to storm the stage and fly-girl it up. That would have been hilarious. I also developed a very cliche, Band-Aid-style crush on the guitar player, who was, in my defense, very cute. I'm so predictable. They played at the Double Door, which was the bar in High Fidelity where John Cusack watched Denise Huxtable sing Peter Frampton songs. For some reason, this fact was awesome to me, and all night long I was all "High Fidelity! Chicaaaaago! Woooo!" Oy. The place looked like it had had a hard life, and was filled with people who also looked accustomed to hard livin'. Apparently, their clientele either just gets really ripped or isn't the brightest, evidenced by the fact that there was a MAP on the wall in the upstairs loft area, that just had large squares on it that said "BAR" "STAGE" and "DOWNSTAIRS" on it. That was good for a laugh.

We took the Blue Line back, which was an experience. We got on the train, and literally every seat contained a sleeping person. It was really weird and Twilight-Zone-y and we all spoke in hushed tones while people snored softly around us. I kept waiting to fall asleep myself, but it never happened. Nice train to Sleepytown.

A Tupperware Party...for my face.

2006-03-15T08:45:00.000-08:00

OK, kids, it's official. I am old. Old, I say. Last night, we hosted a "skin care" party in our condo. Well, I didn't really host it, but I live there, so unofficially, yes. Jess went to one of these things a few months ago, and thought it would be fun, so she booked this girl to come by last night and invited a bunch of people to gab about their skin. It was fun, I guess, but strongly reminded me of a millennial Tupperware party, or those Longaberger basket parties my mom hosted in the early 90's. I never understood the basket parties (and still don't, by the way). They consisted of like, 20 ladies in mom jeans sitting around and literally losing their shit over thousands of useless baskets, to hold Post-its, magazines, paper clips - I kept waiting for the basket that held smaller baskets.

So anyway, we all sat in a circle around the precious, Swedish-made products while this girl literally read from a script (it was her first show, so I'm not hating on her for the use of the script- I am merely hating on the fact that there IS a script) and used many a cliche way to describe soap and mineral wash, or whatever it was she was peddling. We then played a "game" in which notecards with "questions" related to skin care and such were asked. I of course was unable to take any of this seriously, and spent my time chugging wine and making humorous comments. At least, I thought they were humorous. I do not think I read in the situation - the skin-care mentor kept giving me dirty looks. The wine glugging combined with being-a-bitch guilt propelled me to spend way more money than necessary, on products such as "salt scrubs" and "foot moisturizers". I expect to soon sport skin so radiant that you all will be forced to shield your eyes from the glow. At least on my feet.

Yeah, so it was an interesting and unconventional way to spend an evening. And, as I previous noted, it made me feel really old. Especially since we spent a lot of time looking at anti-aging serums and magical elixars to protect our sagging, age-ravaged faces. Oy.

Maybe I should get a job like that. I can memorize a script and sit in a circle hawking things. And I would get to eat a lot of chips at parties. I do like eating chips. I still sort of want to become a Mary Kay lady, just for the sheer hilarity of it. Toolin' around town in my pink Cadillac. I shouldn't say that though, cause my friend's wife works for them and is much more successsful/polished than I could ever hope to be. Apparently, many "performers" (use that term loosely) work for the skin lady. I could see them reading the script with passion and subtext. God, that would be fun. New career, Laura?

"Drink Your Juice, Shelby!"

2006-03-11T18:49:00.000-08:00

Quote of the evening. Being the "maudlin drunk" that I am (thanks Anna) I hit my "sad slump" about three hours into last night's happy hour. While drunkenly bemoaning my life to a throng of uncomfortable listeners, Eric thrust a vodka cranberry into my face and yelled "Drink yer juice, Shelby!" while literally putting the straw into my mouth. Because Steel Magnolias references always make us feel better. And it did.

Had a fun but ruff evening last night with "the boys" (and my friend Meredith). Being our first non-Dear World weekend, we decided to go out all out and get wasted whilst purposefully losing our voices. Cause we can. I forgot how fun it is to go out with the sole purpose of getting shitfaced and acting like an ass. We started the night off at Sidetrash (oy) and ended up at some really sketchy karaoke bar. There were many ruffians there, the two most notable being some random with green glowing earrings and mouthguard (for St. Patrick's Day?...get it??) and a very slender man who sang in the voice of Stevie Nicks. Soooo high-pitched and very serious. There were many green lasers shooting off around the bar, hitting mirrors and then hitting me in the eye. I kept screaming "I just got Lasik surgery!" which I thought was really funny, but I don't think it read. Anyway, we decided it would be a super idea to then go to IHOP and eat lots of greasy breakfast food. It was, but my shit CRASHED, and I just ended up sitting forlornly in the booth, staring into space for no reason, with a tragic look on my face. It was all very dramatic and attention-seeking and indicative of the way I used to act when I went out. I think I just have to re-learn how to be a drunken fool again. Oy. But the night was really fun, and reminded me that, while doing shows is totally great and worthy, sometimes it's nice to be unproductive and spend $75 on booze and yell at randoms.

Drink yer juice Shelby. Drink yer juice, everyone.

Freedom! Horrible, horrible freedom!

2006-03-08T09:22:00.000-08:00

R.I.P., Dear World. You provided many an amusing blog entry, prompted me to tear out my hair several times, introduced me to some lovely people, and taught me how to wear garbage with style and grace. First real show in Chicago - a success in my mind.

So now what?

Not to imply that my life is only interesting/worthwhile while I'm working on a show, but....well, yeah kind of. Now comes the oppressive stretch to summer, where it's still cold and gloomy, there are no holidays, and I have no structured activity to participate in. Well, except for work, I guess. It is "seminar season". Oy.

This past weekend was very fun and filled with activity, which was good. I decided to forget the fact that I was in a somewhat vocally demanding show and forsook sleep and general vocal health in favor of drinking a lot and loudly singing along to 80's mix CDs. On Friday I went out in the city with some of the "boys"...(oy) to a small, completely deserted bar in which the bartender proceeded to personally introduce himself to each of us, which was weird. I felt like I should hang out with him after that, but I didn't. Saturday night after the show, we went to my director and choreographer's condo (the one with the Mickey room) to par-tay. PAR-TAY. I drank the better part of a bottle of wine and was really loud and happy whilst snapping many pics of everyone, and then suddenly basically passed out drunk/legitimatley fell asleep on Eric on the couch, who I deemed my "human pillow". I still don't know if I was drunk or exhuasted, but I think it must have been a combo. Apparently, in the car on the way home I was all "I'm so tired!" and then turned to my friend Kevin and loudly whispered, "I'm not tired. I'm dru-huh-hunk". OOF. So who knows?

Sunday was the final show, and my sweet Jason was kind enought to attend. He actually liked it, everyone, so HA! Hahahahaha. It was sort of sad, but sort of didn't feel like it was ending, so I don't know how to feel right now. So confused. Then we went to watch the Oscar's at my friend Trish's apartment, which was very nice. Every year I get all jacked about the Oscars, and every year they are so damn boring. The baby quiches were delicious though. Mmmm. I was proud of Jon Stewart, and enjoyed ragging on the dresses, so it was a good time.

Monday night, Jason was still in town, so I took him to Sidetracks (aka Sidetrash) for musical theatre night. First I stopped by the Steel Convention and met many an international co-worker- it was weird. I was very American and awkward, and when one of Jason's friends left, he tried to do the Euro-two-cheek kiss thing. Terrified, I stiffened up and was all "ohhh...umm...ok." and giggled nervously. Sooo American. Sidetrash was fun and trashy, as predicted, and I think I may have gotten picked up by some business type. He seemed very straight, so I was encouraging Jason to go for it (as he likes the straighties) and then he started talking me up. It might have been some sort of ploy, but I think he was legit hetero. But then why was he in a gay bar on MUSICAL THEATRE NIGHT by himself? Mysterious.

I have to second Rachel when I say that this blog is like some seventh grade paper. "First I did this, and then I did that." It's very "What I Did on My Summer Vacation". Oh well. I have no political statements to make, or devestating entertainment commentary. La la la.

Kurt Elling, Baby-Making and Ticking Things.

2006-03-02T08:53:00.000-08:00

Ok, first thing off the bat - will you Madisonians jump in and try to give a general definition of our use of the word "rough" (or "ruff" for those of you who spell it that way)? My good friend Eric (who does not know the language of the Madison theatre) is baffled by my constant use of it, and I found that I couldn't give a really good definition. We all know that it's kind of taken the place of "oc", and that it doesn't necessarily mean something is bad. It's just rough. Seriously, help me out. I'm looking in your direction, McPhee and Whittle.

So, it's been pretty busy since I last left you. The show went pretty well last weekend, which was good, although some terrifying yet hilarious line "issues" came up. Namely, the wrong lyrics were sung at a crucial moment, completely dehabilitating every single person on stage, and the wrong lines were said at other times, making everyone on stage burt into terrified giggles. Also, the door to hell got stuck, my dress got ripped, I got smacked in the head with the sharp end of an old-timey umbrella ("accidentally" - j/k) and my friend Michael was stricken with a very painful jaw disease that makes it almost impossible to open his mouth - not a good thing for an actor. :( But we got through it, and managed to pull out some good shows. It's really been a really fun run, with many a "GS" - last weekend starts tonight. :(

So, in my new panic about ending one show with nothing on the horizon, I auditioned for a production of Tick Tick...BOOM! at Pegasus Players last Saturday. TTB is by Jonathan Larson, the guy who wrote Rent, and it is very very similar, except that there are only 3 people in the cast. So it went pretty well, and I got a callback which I went to last night. Apparently there was some double-booking drama, and some VERY sassy members of a community theatre or something were also having auditions. They were loudly yelling things like "I don't CARE if it's professional theatre! That ain't RIGHT that we should move!" All of us little musical theatre lambs scurried around a corner to avoid an inevitable throwdown. So, the callback went pretty well (I think - who ever knows) and I actually recognized a fair amount of the people there. It's a tiny, tiny group of people working in Musical Theatre in Chicago, believe it or not. And Eric and Kevin from DW were there, which was fun, so we all obessed together. (And are currently obsessing via IM right now, actually. Yes, I'm working.) It was pretty funny though, cause me and the other girl who was there were very calm and collected about everything, while many of the men were freaking out. Nice role reversal. It was fun to watch.

So after that, Eric and I headed north to the Green Mill to hear Kurt Elling. I had never heard of either until recently, but I am now a full-fledged fan. The bar is FABULOUS and totally stylized (I was told it was used in some footage of Ocean's Eleven) and has those sweet round booths and a jukebox with records, and was very moodly and low-lit. VERY cool. And Kurt Elling is awesome. That's baby-making music, my friends.
He kind of loves himself a little too much, but I would too in his position. And the people in his band were amazing and hilarious - the drummer looked like he was making babies the whole time he drummed, and the bassist, who was like a poverty-stricken man's Christian Bale looked like he was in very satisfying pain. There was much scatting and many a band shout-out after every extended solo, and many a random in the audience yelling "YEAH!" after a particularly satisfying "riff" (I don't know the jazz-speak). Kurt Elling also decided to scat for like, 15 minutes, which, while very impressive, got a little old. As Donny (Eric's very cute BF) hilariously said, "You think he could have gotten some of that out of his system at home". Or something like that. I had had a few drinks by that point. It was a good time, though at moments became a little Design for Living-esque. ;)

I was also inspired by the wisdoms scrawled on the bathroom walls that my second one-woman show will be entitled "Bathroom Walls" (creative, huh?) in which I will loudly read musings gathered from actual bathroom walls with the appropriate emotional context. And those bathroom wall "fights" will be played out with members from the audience. It's going to be very interactive.

Such a long post. I will leave you, hungover at my computer, waiting for the phone call that's most likely not coming. Cheers!

Turn, Turn, Turn

2006-02-23T08:55:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling mildly sentimental about life at the moment. Not in a bad/good way, but I am feeling it. I'm sort of pausing and looking around and seeing things differently - mostly that we're all crossing the really intense threshold of adulthood. I'll be 24 pretty soon, and while I know that isn't in the least bit old, it is definitely "adult". I'm nearing the next demographic box, which is intense. While we extend our teenage years for another 10 years nowadays, our parents were buying houses and making us at this time. Yiiiikes.

I think this "glance-around" is kicked off by going to Madison last Sunday night to visit Megan and co. We met up with some people at the Weary Traveler, and I just felt....old. Anna, Owen and Drunk Noelle met up with us, which was a lot of fun. Everything just felt really relaxed and nice, which was good- I miss those kind of friendships where you can just sit back and hang out and don't feel like you have to hold court. I really enjoy meeting new people and hanging out with them, but it can get a little exhausting, trying to be "on" all the time. That might just be my problem. But it was really nice to see everyone, and after 2 glasses of wine Owen and I had a grand time laughing about how rough we were during Rocky Horror and all of that drama. So I guess the appropriate time for once-awkward things to be discussed with hilarity is....4 years later. That seems like a good timeframe. I'm gonna have fun in '08. And then we saw the lovely Jason Whittle and sat in Meg's apartment talkin' wedding and literally STUFFING ourselves with Pokey Sticks. Mmmm. The delivery boy was hilarious and stoned and very Madison.

The next day was wedding-dress shopping day. Eeeeeee. Talk about feeling old. It was a lot of fun, but a little stressful. After an incident-free trip to David's Bridal (soo much beading and giant poufy skirts) we went to the Most Intense Store Of Life, Vera's Bridal Salon. We were met by "Kay" who is the roughest individual of 2006 thus far. She had many a line sounded like she was reading from a really sick script. She also kept speaking of "Vera", who we never saw. I just had this image of Vera as a very old woman in a Chanel suit, watching brides through a two-way mirror and rubbing her hands together with glee at the prospect of what they would be spending. We found a very lovely gown that Meg looked beautiful in (though she literally looked good in EVERY SINGLE DRESS- sheesh), but it had a very hefty price tag. Kay wouldn't give up though, putting a veil and jewels on her and giving her a bouquet and covering her eyes dramatically while telling her to picture Steve in a tux and then whipping her hands away to reveal Meg standing in front of a mirror. It was a cheap shot. We all cried. So after that emotional drama we were pretty much spent, and I got on the road to go home. Good times.

While driving home, I got a call from my best friend from high school, Matt, offering me a room in his schweet Wrigleyville apartment. So, I'm going to move! I know it seems crazy to leave the condo life (and I will definitley miss the laundry, pool, and Jess of course) but now I can actually live near other people my age. It's 3 blocks from Wrigley Field and all the sports bars/restaurants (oy) and one block from Boystown with its varied bars and Show Tune nights. So either way, there's going to be a lot of good stories. I'm going to move at the end of May, which is perfect. Yayy! It's all very Once on this Island "Waiting For Life to Begin" except I'm not on an island. Or black. But I am waiting for life to begin. Or, more accuratley, I'm done waiting and ready to get started. : )

That was a rough sentiment. I told you, it's a reflective time.

You're Kidding, Right?

2006-02-14T15:12:00.000-08:00

So it's Valentine's day. I suppose I should have thought of that when I made the resolution in the previous post to think positively. Cause I am not in a positive-minded mood right now. I was literally about to shut off my computer when I found out that I have to stay cause some attorney just now figures out he has to do a pitch. Seriously? I know I'm single, but he doesn't know that, and it's fucking Valentine's Day. I hate the modern American working situation. There is no respect for any sort of personal time, or family committments, or anything. People spend all their time busting their asses for incredibly trivial projects and paper-pushing bullshit, at the expense of any sort of real life. I get so frustrated that I have to spend all this time here (and I hardly even work OT) and have to beg for time off to do the things that I actually care about. There's just something perverse about it. I think of my friends who bust their assses until 7 or 8 every night working so hard on things that don't really seem to matter. Argh. And think of how many "successful" people never see their children or their loved ones. It seems so wrong.

Ok, rant over. I just want to leave. Also, never have a discussion about being "dishonest" when you work at a law firm. Seriously. Of course we're dishonest. It's an effing law firm.

Grrrrr. Ok, I'm over it. Check out the below. It temporarily lifted my dark, desparate mood. I figure if these two lonely cowboys could find love, maybe there's hope for all of us.

Happy V-day, all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zfODSPIYwpQ

Champagne Cocktails in the Mickey Room

2006-02-13T10:24:00.000-08:00

Ah, cast parties. Never get drunk on a Sunday night at 6:30 p.m. Off a champagne cocktail in the Disney themed rec room of your director, surrounded by man-on-man couples. Last night was probably the most indicative situation of life. If you needed an image to sum up my life, that would be it. Sloppy drunk on mixed drinks, shrieking about Project Runway with your friend's boyfriend whilst surrounded by Disney memorobilia. Not that it's a bad thing. It was a lovely party, with a wonderful feast of free food. So I enjoyed myself immensely.

I have recently (and accurately) been tagged as being "too negative", so I am attempting to not complain every five seconds and try to see the bright and good side of things. I probably won't be funny anymore, but at least I might get into heaven. It's very reminiscent of an evening at the Wine Celler during Das when Rachel and I were bemoaning our lives for no reason and then decided that we in actuality didn't hate our lives, and maybe we were just being drama queens. We resolved to be positive and good. It lasted about 30 minutes. I'm assuming this will turn out the same, but it's the effort that counts.

I'm really supposed to be writing my work self-evaluaton right now for my one-year review (yes, kids, it's been a whole year of law firming) and can literally think of nothing to say. Might be because of the hangover, but perhaps I've just lost my excellent bullshitting skills. NO!!!!

So good things this week - I have a "date" with Dawn tomorrow night for Valentine's day - the conversion to lesbianism has begun. Then I'm seeing "Wicked" with my daddy on Wednesday, and Thursday shows start this week. YAY! More shows! Such a spotlight whore.

This was a boring post. I'm working on it. Maybe we should start having themes to posts. Perhaps a "question of the week". Or more "memory lane" entries. Those were funny. I'll work on it.

"Super" Bowl?

2006-02-06T09:46:00.000-08:00

Ew, football. It is less than super. Jess and I had the mutual friend gang over to our place last evening for some football-watchin', Chicago-style pizza-eatin' fun. It was a good time, but seriously....football? Don't get it. Don't wish to. Never will. I couldn't tell you at this moment who played. For real. There were a lot of violent commercials, and I ate some pizza. These are the things that I remember. Well, that and the sweet-ass episode of "Grey's Anatomy" that followed. Oooh, was that good. Delicious and perfect - Emmys for Christina Ricci and the pregnant attending? Yes please. It's right up there with the one where those people are impalied on a pole. That's damn good TV.

Aside from that....not much that's new. The show went really, freakishly well this weekend, which was very exciting. I did fall of the stage but was gracefully caught by my friend Brian, so it was all good. Oh the falling. We knew it would happen sooner or later. Our director was all veklempt and invited all of us in the cast to consider becoming company members. I'm thinking about it. In a way, I don't want to get attached to soon to any particular Chicago company - but I would be damn lucky to work with these people again, even after the sadness that was Dear World. So we'll see.

I also attended a hilarious "actor party" (well, tagged along, really) filled with many a Chicago ruffian. Sooo many ironic, "funny" t-shirts, such as "Kenya dig it?" and my all-time favorite "Idaho? No, Udaho". Hee. I went with Eric from the show, and we both got hit on by the same...girl. That was new. She was very misinformed. We think she thought that we were a couple, and wanted to have some sort of three way. It was ruff. (But hilarious).

And now I have the whole week to wile away! Except for work. But I don't know what to do with my nights. Maybe I'll go see "Brokeback Mo" (as Anna calls it). Or maybe I'll just sleep. God, things need to pick up. I'm boring myself.

Make it Stop!!!

2006-01-31T07:28:00.000-08:00

Huhhhh????

Well, we've opened, and now I actually have time to think and sleep again. Hooray!

Sadly, everyone hates the show except us. And sometimes we hate it a little. Oh, the love-hate relationship. How complicated you are. Megan, Steve, Nicole and Nate came to the show on Saturday night (thanks guys!) and pretty much hated it, which was kind of disappointing. My parents came on Sunday and made fun of it too. Sigh. I mean, I know we're not doing Shakespeare here, but we all hoped it wouldn't be so badly received. Luckily, there's a creepy Chicago online critic who loved the show - so now we're "not recommended" by the Trib, "somewhat recommended" by the Sun-Times and "recommended!" by that dude. So, I guess you have to see for yourself.

It will be good when I am done with the show. Work is ruff and not interesting, and the show is basically my entire life right now which is lame, and I'm sure you're all sick to death of hearing about it. This week I'm going to do things and have experiences, and return with richer blog entries. Or at least with many pics of me wearing various outfits, a la Wetherald.

It's no Walmartopia, but....yeah, not even close.

2006-01-27T10:54:00.000-08:00

Hm. First reveiws have come out. Hmmm. Oh sadness. They just can't appreciate a weird play. But I did get a mention, and as this blog is nothing but an extension of my ego, I feel I must post it. It's the Chicago Tribune, y'all! It's classy!

It's actually an intelligent review- I can't say I disagree with everything in it. But it's sad when you think you're achieving a style or message and it doesn't read. The audience does seem to be amused though. Oh well. Read for yourselves.

And come to the show and love it and prove him wrong! Hurrah!

http://metromix.chicagotribune.com/reviews/critics/mmx-guv25i3cj.7jan27,0,1666331,print.story?coll=mmx-critics_heds

My "film" debut

2006-01-23T17:19:00.000-08:00

Holy Jesus.

Well, they put up the clip of my show online. EEEEEEEEEE. Never have to look at yourself brandishing a cane and looking really peppy and ruff while everyone else looks earnest and powerful. Also, never stare into the lights and blink at an alarming rate cause your contacts are dried up. I don't think that reads. P.S. I never knew my mouth was crooked when I sing. See, this is why you should never watch yourself act. Ooof.

Here's the link, btw.
www.stagechannel.com. Look up "Video Clips" and then "Dear World". There's two of them.

P.S., Never be blogging at work at 7:24 p.m., eating Thai food and waiting for the copy guys to get their shit together. No thanks. I want to go hoooome...thanks Jeremy and Jason, for getting me through this hard time.

Keep Savin'

2006-01-17T08:49:00.000-08:00

Tech, Ricola, and General Roughness

2006-01-17T08:27:00.000-08:00

Well, we started tech rehearsals last night. And, amazingly, it went really well! Rock on Circle Theatre, for your lovely, smooth-running tech. As rough as tech is, I definitley sort of love it, and this one was no exception. The show makes SO much more sense with costumes, good props and scenery - I can't even tell you. We all look rough, but in a really fabulous French way. I also get to wear the most gorgeous authentic 50's tangerine silk shirtdress - sooooo "Far From Heaven". Sadly, I must wear it under the Ugliest Sweater in the World, a pink flowered ruffled nightmare with clear sequins roughly placed on it. I'm such a beeyotch about costumes, but this sweater kills my soul. I'm trying to find a nice way to scrap it - maybe I can accidentally ruin it. Because the dress is DIVINE.

So, I got really sick last Thursday, which was tragic. I did burst into tears at work over a malfunctioning color printer, which I took as a sign that it was time to go home. So I did, and slept for seven straight hours. The rest of the weekend was spent huddled on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, taking every over-the-counter drug under the sun. My daily mix consisted of:
2 Vitamin C pills
Sudafed
Motrin
Airborne (thanks Meg!)
Chloraseptic Throat Spray
Cold Eeze
Nyquil
No fewer than 8 cups of Throat Coat
About 6 glasses of OJ
About 10 bottles of water
About 400 Ricola cough drops

So maybe I went a little overboard. But I do feel much better, which is good. I started to feel like some sort of old-timey quarrintined invalid, which was rough. But all is well now - I think. I feel like I'm walking some sort of invisible tightrope of health, wobbling over a gaping hole of sick illness. Nice image.

Soooo....yeah! We'll see how this week turns out. We're filming a few minutes of the show tonight for this website called stagechannel.com that shows clips of Chicago shows - so that will be rough. I believe it's some sort of rousing production number in which I'm all doubtful, but the love of "Julian" gives me hope or something. I might also be brandishing a broom and or cane. Time will tell.

2005, We're Alive!

2006-01-11T09:20:00.000-08:00

I have been so thoroughly amused by the 2005 retrospectives of others that I decided to created a bastardized, less entertaining version of my 2005. Brace yourselves - it's....well, it's pretty mundane really.

January 2005
Lived in parents' house.
Struggled with parents'-house-living-depression.
Hilarious/depressing experiences with substitute teaching, including teaching Huck Finn to numerous tenth graders, one of which was my younger brother
Continued to nanny for small children and felt like shoddy child-bride soccer mom
Slept late
Decided to get "serious" about "job search" - interviewed at really sketchy "Marketing Firm" with some sort of overgrown frat boy - offered rough-sounding job-turned rough job down.
Begged aunt to send my resume around law firm - interviewed with law firm for 3 different jobs.
Auditioned for rough community theatre production of "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum"
Got job at law firm to general disbelief of everyone, including me.
Got a lead in Forum to marginal disbelief that was lessened after saw others at callback.

February 2005
Started job at law firm
Commuted from parent's house in bizarre system that included driving my dad's car to Glenview, taking train to Chicago, taking train home from Chicago, driving to rehearsal in Glenview, driving home
Sleep deprivation
Met some cool homies on the Forum set- developed ill-advised crush on costar until realized was married. Learned to always check ring finger first.

March 2005
More commuting - started working on seminars at work. Finally started to talk to people at work other than my boss.
More Forum - was unsure every day about whether show was bad or good. Concluded that it was bad in a good way.
Attended Rachel McPhee's marvelous birthday bash as Patsy Cline. Looked nothing like Patsy Cline but had a great time nonetheless. Managed to hang in Madison without crying or vomiting.

April 2005
Moved into aunt and uncle's attic for duration of Forum tech week. Felt like crazy Mrs. Rochester, but very much enjoyed the short commute.
Started to get really restless with the whole parents'-house thing.
Opened Forum to very small audiences of people with walkers and oxygen tents.
Turned 23 -shame spiral.
Fun with show, but despair with lame and lonely life.

May 2005
More of the same, only without the show.
Got more sleep but didn't really ever see anyone.
Weather began to get warm and then got really cold again.
Made the decision to move in with Jessica, my Forum cast-mate into gorgeous and new condo in the South Loop.
Things started to look up.

June 2005
Moved to Chicago, 10 minutes from work - was still late the first day back after the move.
Took lots of long walks - hung out a lot in the musical theatre section of the library.
Joyful reunion with Chicago friends, such as Matt.
Got really drunk at Cro-bar and puked in a cab - threw wad of cash at driver and barked at him to "clean yer cab!".
Realized had become yuppie.
Decided to take acting class after severe theatre-related panic attack.

July 2005
Took acting class, led off with Angels in America scene- had emotional breakdown.
Attended wedding of new friends and danced my ass off- became adopted by U of I group of friends.
Bid tearful goodbye to Rachel McPhee - hung out at Karaoke Kid after watching a "marvelously funny Jeremy Wethearald" steal Pirates.
Auditioned for several theatre companies - recieved 2 callbacks and one understudy offer.
Met some cool acting class peeps.
Finally became friends with people at work - partied with them.
Started a blog.

August 2005
Swam in apartment pool - basked in yuppiness.
Got raise at work.
Saw Ben Folds Five with Megan and Steve - drank Head Butt wine.
Started "rehearsing" for Steel Magnolias gig - lots of train time.
Got new headshots taken - exploited them everywhere.
Melted and died in extreme heat wave.
Took amazing musical theatre class - filled with joy and happiness. Found out later that the teacher said of me "She sings well enough to be in a Broadway chorus right now...but man, is she green!" Felt conflicting emotions.

September 2005
The month that wasn't.
Went by really fast, and really only remember Steel reheasals and hanging out at home - prolly watched a lot of TV.

October 2005
Attended high school best friend's wedding - was sketched out.
Really fun condo Halloween party: got drunk with many friends from many time periods- worlds collided.
More Steel - decided to never understudy again.
I think this is when the World Series was, right? Well, that happened.
Auditioned for Dear World at Circle Theatre.
Was cast to enormous shock and pleasure.
Missed old friends.

November 2005
Finished Steel thank god.
Started Dear World - was intimidated, but loved it.
Work stuff....worky worky work.
Went to visit Megan in hippie-town - saw lots of lovely old Madison faces.
See blog for other events.

December 2005
Became a hyphochondriac.
Saw Adam kiss a dude in a play.
Sang Christmas carols on street corner while feeling like personal bearer of all Christmas joy.
Made out with gay costar- enjoyed it a little too much.
Bought many a gift - received Booty Santa, the gift that keeps on giving.
Saw the fam - enjoyed the Christmas.
Heard about Megan gettin' engaged - cried. Agreed to be the maid of honor - cried some more.
Prepared for the roughness of 2006.

Oy. Nice year. I'm sure I left some stuff out - at least I hope I did, cause that year was a little rough. 2006! Ready or not....here it is.

Pretty Little Picture

2006-01-09T09:31:00.000-08:00

Awwww...so cute! Ill-advised hairdo, me. We'll call this the "before" picture. May I remind you all that this was the ONLY drink of the night. That's what death in a cup looks like. Sweet NYE. Thanks, Nicole! :)

I've Made a Huge Mistake

2006-01-03T09:26:00.000-08:00

Hello all. Happy 2006! Hope everyone had interesting and fun evenings, and run in the New Year with friends, booze and happiness. Ooof.

So Nicole came out to the city, and we went down to Lincoln Park to hang out at a bar and listen to her friend's band play. They were really good, the people there were fun, and the Long Island Iced Teas were strong and flowing. And....that's all that happened. Let's never speak of it again.

This weekend in general was pretty good - I spent a great deal of time sleeping late and being slovenly, and then cleaning and cooking in a fit of guilt. I no longer feel justified in sleeping until 11 and then lounging around all day unshowered in my jammies. I now feel some sort of adult regret, and madly overcompensate by hand-washing sweaters, buying mops and baking things. I hate being a fake adult.

So they started building the costumes for the show's garbage ballet- 5 words for you. Wedding dress of bubble wrap. That's right, folks. Oy. OY. We haven't rehearsed in like, weeks, which is really rough. We're back tonight though....eeeee. I'm scared. I am also really nerdily excited to get workin' on it again. So enthusiastic.

Well...not much to report this time. I have not made any resolutions, nor do I plan to. Life is weird/rough enough without trying to hold yourself to impossible standards like, "Excercise" "Lose weight" or "Be nicer to people." I'm only one person, people.

Belated Christmas Cheer

2005-12-28T08:33:00.000-08:00

Merry belated Christmas, everyone! I'm sorry I didn't send cards this year, but....I'm lazy. So very, very lazy.

I hope everyone had a lovely and fabulous Christmas - mine was pretty good. I want to start celebrating with children or something, because an all-adult Christmas can be kind of awkward. Everyone's all tired and tense and nervous about the gifts they have given, and embarrassed about the gifts they have received. At least you can pretend to be all interested in Legos and dolls - it's much harder to get all jacked about a gift card and a fancy diploma frame that you don't really even want. I think I'll be receiving Wisconsin-themed gifts for the rest of my life. Oy. Plus the World's Ugliest Pajamas, which is an annual thing from my mom. Hopefully she's kidding, but I don't think she is. This year's getup is a cotton, saggy-crotched nightmare with snowwomen all over it. I'm sorry, I know I'm just sleeping in them, but I can't bring myself to wear that.

In other news, CONGRATULATIONS to Megan and Steve! The avalanche of love/marriage begins! And, as life is better lived vicariously through others, I of course was unable to keep my mouth shut and found it necessary to tell people right away. So, if I didn't already tell you, I'm telling you now. This probably should have been Megan's job, but she ain't mad. P.S., saw the ring.....it is BEAUTIFUL. Oy. Nice work, O'Connell. Nice work, my friend.

So New Year's is approaching! No thanks! I have always hated the ringing in of the New Year. There's just waaaay too much pressure, and everyone gets all dressed up and then throws up on their nice clothes. Although last year was fun....Nicole and I sat around her parents house and ate brownies and then heard her sis have a fight on the phone all night. Hee!

Jess and I realized that we're supposed to be getting HBO, and have been paying for it, and it's never come in, which is bull. Apparently we were also paying for our malfunctioning OnDemand. So Comcast finally came out and fixed it, and I have been transfixed in front of the TV ever since. Ooops. The OnDemand HBO movies are so good, though! I watched a Ewan McGregor movie called "Young Adam" that was really rough. Soooo much sex - it was rated NC-17. Racy. But also gross, although Ewan is a damn sexy man. My love for him will never die. Sigh. But seriously, put little Ewan away for awhile. Keep some of the mystery.

Memory Lane #1 - O Christmas Tree...

2005-12-22T09:28:00.000-08:00

Keeping with the spirit of friendship and holiday togetherness, in the season of painful nostalgia, here is my first "memory lane" entry. OOOOF.

Since it's Christmas, I'll lead off with this one, though I don't think any of my "regular readers" were there. And, oh, it was also sort of an unsolved crime, so please don't tell anyone.

So, it was the winter of 2002, during the infamous "A Christmas Carol" run that was never-ending and featured many special guest appearances from UT people. We were at Nick's (where else) and getting nice and toasted. The normal people all left at decent hours, until it was just me, Pete and Meggers left. Really drunk. Like, really, really drunk. So Pita got on his cellphone and calls his roommates. He then gets off the phone and starts to run drunkenly and heedlessly down the street, yelling at Megan and I to come with him. So we did, of course, cause we are both drunks and gluttons for punishment.

So we get to Brooks Street and there's bedlam in the Hunt House, as always. There are like, 10 drunk guys wielding chainsaws and axes and other murderous weapons, which was momentarily terrifying in my vodka haze. But they just charge past us and run down the street. We're all, like, whaaaa? and follow them as they run towards campus. So we catch up with Roommate Brady who says that they're going to get a Christmas tree, but we all have to be really quiet. Somehow we end up jogging along those train tracks on the South End of campus. I then proceed to slip and literally roll down a snow-covered hill. Peter just laughed uproariously and walked away, and Megan sighed and came down the hill after me, where I lay curled up in a fetal position, pretending to cry. Megan just kept saying "Are you physically hurt?" and I had to say no, through my crocodile tears. So then we got up and tried to find people, and we suddenly saw 5 guys running like deer with a huge tree in their hands.

So we get back to the house, and the magical, freshly cut tree is HUGE and way too big for the door. So all the guys start crazily hacking at the tree with their chainsaws and machetes and such until it's small enough to fit. The rest of the evening is pretty blurry, but all of a sudden Megan went crazy and grabbed a saw and was standing dancing on top of the tree, and then she and Peter got into a weird quasi-flirtatious fight that was really awkward, and apparently this has all been captured on video somewhere. I'm told I am sitting just at the edge of the frame, looking really pissed off.

So the thing that makes this story interesting, is that the next morning there's a front page headline in the school paper that says "MISSING TREE" with a sad ghostly outline of a tree in front of like, the Biology building. According to the article, the tree was 20 years old and had been planted by orphans or something. So Peter freaks out and makes Megan and I swear on our lives to never tell anyone, which we obviously didn't take heed of. And the tree was decorated beautifully and with surprising care for a house filled with drunk guys at their Christmas party that next week.

Moral #1
I am a tree killer. Well, at least an accessory to a tree killer.

Moral #2
Never tell a story with such inconsistent tenses. My English professors would spit on me.

Moral #3
I hope I can't get in trouble for this retroactively. I'm assuming the authorities don't read my blog. But if you do....I was't there. I was with Nicole the whole time. RIGHT, NICOLE???

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Everything Old is New Again

2005-12-19T09:55:00.000-08:00

Seriously, I don't understand why people have to go to work the week before Christmas, and the week between Christmas & New Year's. Everyone is in a permanent hangover state, bloated and swollen from Christmas parties, and there is absolutely no work to be done. Our office has never been so clean, for that is the only thing to do. Sigh.

Speaking of Christmas parties....ooooops. Friday was an experience. I blame K&E for giving us unlimited amounts of free champagne. It would have been rude not to drink it....all. Right?? Between the hours of 3 and 6 I chugged 5 glasses of champagne and 2 of wine, with some water chasers. There was dancing and merriment aplenty - and I seriously remember very little of it. After the party we went to the Hard Rock Hotel bar - I remember NONE of that. Apparently I had a very long heart-to-heart with our Chief Marketing Officer, though. Once again...ooops. I then decided I had to go home and change for my friends' Justin and Alison's adult, classy, Christmas party. I changed my clothes and laid down on my bed for "just a minute". When I woke up it was 2 in the morning. Oops again. So I missed the classy Christmas party, which was sad. Never fall asleep at 8 p.m.

The next day was spent attempting to wrench myself from the hangover state, in preparation for Michigan Avenue Salvation Army Christmas Caroling. Yikes. It was fun, but fricking freezing - the temperature was about 17 degrees, but the windchill took it to like, -2 degrees. Funn. We sang many a holiday ditty in beautiful 4-part harmony, and in general charmed the pants off of Chicago. Sooo many people stopped to take our picture or video, and many a child gazed in Christmas wonder as we sang songs like "O Come Emmanuel" and "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" (so many verses). I feel good about helping out like that, although it raped my vocal cords. So the Secret Garden audition...not the greatest. It was some sort of a rough cattle-call-esque situation, with thousands clamoring to get in, and many a little girl in a hair ribbon. I've been called back for this company before (they did the Halloween show this past fall), and was all "It's so nice to see you again!" at the exact same time that the casting director said "Nice to meet you." Apparently I make a lasting impression. Also, never sing "Home" from Beauty and the Beast.

So tonight I have the Circle Theatre Christmas party...and I'm taking tomorrow off of work. That's a deadly combination. Theatre people + alcohol + no need to get up early tomorrow = OOOPS. It's gonna be good. (I hope)

KONG!!!!

2005-12-16T12:53:00.000-08:00

Work is slow with the approaching holiday, and I have killed as much time as possible Google-stalking people. The only things left to do are to clean up my desk and update my blog.

So, blog it is.

I saw "King Kong" last night....eeeee. I love my roommate for many reasons, but one of the most important is that she gets free passes with free popcorn & soda to many popular movies before they come out. Schweet. So we saw the Kong. Oh, the Kong. It's actually very scary. We screamed many times. Adrien Brody's nose is long and protruding and seems almost phallic when he flares his nostrils with emotion, which he often did. I am convinced that Naomi Watts is Nicole Kidman's travel-sized clone. Dinosaurs wrestled and Naomi Watts pretended to juggle. All in all, a good flick.

Today is the office Christmas party....eeee. Along with terms like "water-cooler talk" and "teleconference", "remember the office Christmas party?" are situations that I am new to, and thus excited to experience. Apparently we're all expected to get really drunk, which works for me. We also have a West Side Story-esque feud with the other department on our floor, and in an act of solidarity that really makes no sense to me, we are all wearing pink or pink accents today. I suggested it, and was kidding. Apparently I am taken seriously here. We are known throughout the firm as the "Stepford Wives", being young, pretty, and showing a penchant for pencil skirts and pearls. I've never been part of the "popular" crowd, which we are in the high school of Kirkland, and it is a strange and unsettling experience.

So Jessica and I have signed up to ring the Salvation Army bell in front of the Crate & Barrell Superstore on Michigan Avenue tomorrow. In an act of geekiness, we recruited Andy and his new bf Danny to come and sing four-part Christmas carols with us. This could result in old people and apple-cheeked children being delighted, or beefy men and stringy teenagers being annoyed and shouting/throwing things at us. I'm a little nervous.

So, everyone read Roachie's blogger and get on the memory train. I think it will be funny. I have to think of one, and then I will post. But not now, as the drunken time is nigh.

Cheers!

Sigh. Weep. So many emotions.

2005-12-14T07:20:00.000-08:00

Soooo.....I had rehearsal last night, which was interesting. We finally got through the whole damn show, which was a relief. At the end of the show there's a very rough torch ballad entitled "Kiss Her Now" in which the Countess (nice character name) demands that "Julian" and I get in on. We stare at each other emotionally for about 5 minutes until my contacts dry up and my face has frozen over. It's good times. And then we make out. And it's not bad, thank God. You gotta give the gay boys props for their stage-love. I usually work with straighties, but I must say, the gay boys are better. Gross. Don't mean to be graphic, but it's an interesting plot point of life. Such a tease. ;)

My life is reaching a new low. Seriously. Not to be pathetic and sad-sounding, but I think I really need a boyfriend. Or at least some sort of friend with benefits. I just realized that I discuss time spent with gay men in like, every entry. I need to go to a sports bar or something.

In other news....we had a sick Client Service lunch yesterday in which many bad gifts were exchanged. I received a Santa doll that plays "Jock Jams" and spins around while shaking his moneymaker. I call him "Booty Santa". He's sitting creepily on top of my computer. I keep turning him on and everyone is irritated, because Booty Santa is loud and screams "You all ready for this?" in some sort of foreign accent. I think he must have been manufactured in a third world country. I love Booty Santa. We were given the gift of massage by our managers for Christmas, which is nice but a little creepy. They hired a massage therapist to come and sit in the empty office and give us each 20 minute head, hand and feet massages. Eeeek. While this is a nice gesture, I'm not so excited about being touched in a Kirkland office. It's basically my worst fear realized.

My bank balance has a sad face on it due to the horrifying amount of money I spent on Christmas gifts this year. Oof. Oh materialistic Christmas.

Sorry about the roughness of this post. You know I can't keep anything to myself. Be grateful that my life isn't more sexually gratuitous - you'd be hearing a lot of stuff that would haunt you forever.

Top Model finale, sleep deprivation and a whole lotta jazz squares

2005-12-08T07:07:00.000-08:00

Hello my friends...

Well, things have been moving along all right. I have been asked by my dear old friend Dana Osterman (try pronouncing it with a thick Minnesota or Wisconsin accent - it's a lot of fun) to update this sad rag, so here goes. (That was your blog shout-out, Dana-bird!)

Rehearsals have been moving along very well. We've been working a lot on the "dance" numbers, which are really fun, but also embarassing. I actually think the choreography is pretty decent, but there's a lot of bizarre militaristic movement to match the bizarre militaristic music written by a one Jerry Herman. I imagine that Mr. Herman is one of those people who really likes to listen to his own voice talking, because all of his songs are just the same refrain repeated 20 times at increasing volume and intensity. The title song consists of us shouting "dear world" no less than 50 times. We had a first run the other day that was hilarious - oh, how I love rehearsing musicals. I hope I continue to get cast in things, because this shit is truly unbelievably fun. I haven't gotten much sleep lately, between working for 8 hours during the day and reherasing for 3 hours at night (with a 30-minute commute each way to boot), but I think it's worth it.

I auditioned for the Chicago company of "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" the other day, which was one of the most cliche experiences of life. It was held in a big theatre downtown, and the lobby was literally swarming with bright-eyed youngsters, most of them freaking out. A bunch of people came in costume, which was also hilarious. We each got a number and were told we could sing 16 bars, and that was it. I literally stood in a really long line, music in hand, waiting for my 27 seconds of singing time. Nice cattle call. Reminds me of why I'm not moving to New York anytime soon.

So, all that included, life is good! Christmas is coming, which is fun, Top Model has ended, so I am free of its spell (although that reunion show sounds pretty good) and the show moves along swimmingly, though embarrassingly. Next up - sweet Christmas shopping, work overload and a sick audition for "The Secret Garden". Eeeeeee.

Save me from the garbage

2005-11-29T14:45:00.000-08:00

So rehearsals are...rough. We've all basically admitted that the script pretty much sucks, and our goal is to make it suck less. Even my director was like, "We have to just accept it for what it is, and commit to it - I know, I know." The garbage ballet dance, while innovative is a little frightening - a very "stylizled yet ugly" court dance. And believe me, when I do it, it's a lot more "ugly" than "stylized". I also found out that I have to wear a wedding dress made of white plastic bags at the end of the garbage number. The hell?

I must say, the people are awesome, my sweet-ass director as well - everyone is so nice/funny, and there has been insta-bonding, which is really great. I would be happy to work here forever. I should probably wait until we've had more than 6 rehearsals to say that. But it's true! So many gays. Sigh. My leading man is a little ambiguous - I could see him going either way. He definitely has some "qualities". And what I interpret as "flirting" might just constitute "Is he looking at the ladies to check out the outfits?" Ooof. Instinct says - gay.

Which is a good thing, as I should probably stop having crushes on co-stars - I don't think I've ever done a show in which I didn't sort of fall in love with my "leading man", regardless of whether he was gay, married, or a former circus performer. I'm like Ingrid Bergman! Or Jennifer Garner!

Sigh. Christmas is coming! Chicago is transformed into a Winter Wonderland! I want to drink spiced rum and go wassailing! Hooray!

Just have to add a sidebar that my blogging has become so lazy that a large portion of this text is pulled from an email I sent to Meg this morning. Update often? Yes. Original/interesting posts? No.

Gobble Gobble

2005-11-26T16:35:00.000-08:00

Mmmmm....turkey.

Thanksgiving is typically my favorite day of the year. Obviously, for no one likes to gorge themselves quite as much as I do. Now, a typical McClain Thanksgiving involves no shortage of feuding, drunken aunts, screaming babies, awkward conversations where I spend a lot of time trying to explain what it is that I do, and very loud belches followed by smatterings of applause. So, clearly, I really like eating, to still be excited for this day to come around every year.

This year we went down to Springfield which went pretty much as expected. Lots of food and many children that I had to take care of for some reason. All in all, pretty uneventful. It's been nice to be home these last few days, for sure. I really must say, I like it a lot at my parents' house, now that I've moved out. I'm here just long enough to eat all the food, sleep on the couch and trash the place, without getting in trouble. Score!

I've spent the weekend taking in some movies, which was good fun. I saw Capote on Wednesday night - go Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Quite Oscar-worthy. Nice work, old friend. Then I caught Harry Potter last night - very very good. But damn, that shit was scary. I spent some time cowering from the CGI dragon and was freaked out of my mind by my sweet love Ralph Fiennes as a noseless, freakish beast. Why must my movie-star lovers continue to maul themselves for movie roles? Losing the nose for this, the burn makeup in English Patient, the co-starring with JLo in the hotel maid movie - I might have to write Ralph a letter. Sigh.

All in all, a good weekend. Looking forward to getting back to Chicago sort of - not so much the work part, but we start blocking the show tomorrow. Nerve!

An urban poseur in hippie-town

2005-11-21T12:41:00.000-08:00

So I have returned from the Isthmus to the very, very windy city of Chicago. This past weekend was pretty fun. It's getting weirder and weirder to go up to Madison...things are really rapidly changing, and those college kids seem so young. So, I drove up on Friday night right into the center of hippie town, as I like to call it. Clad in some sort of wool skirt tall leather boots, tweed coat ensemble and hefting my matching luggage, I definitley did not fit in. Megan's place is very cute and very Megan, as expected. We hung out at her place and met Steve at the Weary Traveller for just one drink, as I was myself a weary traveller, and we are all old. Steve's hair is very free-flowing and curly, which was kind of hilarious.

Saturday was spent wandering around the Capital area and snarking about how Madison, while great, is oftentimes very rough. After the shopping in which nothing was bought, Meg and I changed for dinner, and I met up with old roomies Kelly and Ellen, or "Kellen" as I like to call them. Oh Dotty's. I think they're greasing the buns as well as the insides of the sandwiches. Mine was DRIPPING. Mmmmmm. Then I met back up with Meg to go see the show, "'Tis Pity She's a Whore." Luckily and hilariously, we got to sit next to Mrs. Simotes, whose card no longer has three houses on it.

And may I just say that the show was damn good. I've never read it before, and had no idea what happened, so it was a lot of fun to watch. The stamp of APT was clearly all over it, from the crazy internal light shifts to the ominous music. Josh got a little bug-eyed at times, Carrie was, as always, really effing good, and Steve was great as well. All in all, a really really good production, which was nice. So much bloodshed/incest. I would recommend it. The show, not the bloodied incest, that is.

So then we went back to Dotty's (eek) and drank some beers with the old school - ie, Bissen, Joe, Paul, the lovely Miss Jackie (hi Jackie!), and others. All in all, a good night, and utterly devoid of all drama involving any various number of hobbits, dwarves, or swashbucklers. Thank the Lord. Sunday I was out pretty early, after a truly hippie-style breakfast in a decrepit yet good East Side diner. Mmmm. Hippie town.

The drive back was sort of terrifying, for I had forgotten that it's hunting season, and everyone and their mother had a dead deer horrifyingly strapped to their car. Oh God. It was really gross. As a result, I drove 85 or over pretty much the whole way home, which is very dangerous but got me back in less than 2 hours, so go figure.

Yeah....I think after this year the Madison trips are pretty much going to be over for good. Well, at least trips that involve Vilas. I get really tired of trying to be impressive to everyone about my life, when it doesn't really matter what anyone thinks about me. I miss the whole thing a little, but a LOT less than I did this time last year, which shows progress. I remember crying on my drive home from Threepenny last year....not so much now. It's still a little sad to know that your life will never be like that again, so snuggly and safe and insular, where you see you friends 24/7 and don't have to worry about adult things, but it's also kind of nice to have the wider outlook. Or something. I don't really know. You get it.

So they put me in the goddamm garbage ballet. Oh yes. More on that as it develops. As always, nice life. Truly something to be thankful for. : )

Tales of a Cabbie

2005-11-17T11:30:00.000-08:00

So I've been out-of-the office the last three days, getting really pointless technology database training, which has been fun. The most fun part is that the training was located in Oak Brook Illinois, a good 40 minutes outside the city. Because my firm is rich and loves to spend their sweet, sweet money (hence the $2,200 pointless training class), I was told to just hire a cab to take me out there and back this week, and they would pay for it. Hmmm. I went to the training with my co-worker Kara, who developed a deep and loving relationship with her first cab driver, a timid and balding man named Cher. Seriously, his name was Cher. Maybe it wasn't spelled like that, but that was how it was pronounced. So the traning center was only about 5 minutes away from this mall, and they would always let us out really early, so Kara and I would go to the mall whilst Cher sat in traffic waiting to come get us. It was like a seventh grade flashback, waiting for your mom to get you from the mall - but instead, your mom is a middle-aged Eastern European man named after a gay icon of today and tomorrow. Oh life.

Cabs are the funniest f-ing things in the world. I have gained so much wisdom and endured so much nausea from the various cab drivers in my life. Perhaps I will write a one-woman show called "Cabbin' it!" or something. The feature would have to be that female cabbie that Rachel and I used at Irene Ryans who said many priceless things. Her most quotable lines were "Sometimes them lesbians try to touch on me - but I got a crowbar under my seat!" (laughs in raspy, cigarette-graveyard voice). or "Here at Checker Cab, we give you a safe ride! Don't want none of them college girls gettin' raped." She talked a nonstop stream for 30 minutes while Rachel and I choked back our guffaws. Yeah, those cab drivers...you gotta love them.

And they're off!

2005-11-11T07:11:00.000-08:00

First rehearsal was last night. Woooh! I am SO excited. I think it's going to be a good show. (fingers crossed) I met most people in the cast last night, and while many are rough, it seems to be in a good theatrical kind of way. Everyone is very boisterous, which is funny but could become a bit annoying, but we will focus on the positives. The board of directors of the company seems great and the space is awesome - it's a tiny, icky looking little space with a narrow alley stage and a bunch of bizarre tacked-on rooms. And I really mean that it's amazing. It's like the perfect little cliche storefront theatre where you just know amazing production are produced. I'm seriously more wary of the work done at really nice theatres. Those people don't even have to try. I read the script last night....it's VERY rough, but also kind of witty and fun. And apparently there's going to be what they call a "garbage ballet" in which characters double as faceless "pimps" and swirl around the Madwoman in stylized costumes made of found objects. YES. I effing love it. Also, there is many a gay, and that should be fun. I have not met my leading man yet, as he is currently in another show, so the tension mounts. Basically all we have to do is stare at each other while the "Countess" beseeches us in song to approach and love, "before his hair turns white and there is another Madwoman in Paris!" Sooooo stylized/aesthetic.

And I must say as a side note- those of you who have cooler and more interesting lives wherein you are busy and spend your free time hanging out with friends and family, being creative and volunteering for various charitable causes - that is no excuse not to update your blog. I'm on literal pins and needles wondering what some of you are doing, as is everyone else. I'm seriously just kidding. Or. Am. I????

It is a truth universally acknowledged...

2005-11-07T10:10:00.000-08:00

It's hilarious to think that I reluctantly started this blog, thinking that I would never update it, and it would go to waste. I admit that I have become somewhat obsessive. Sorry everyone. I love me an update. Especially when I literally have nothing to report. This blog is very "What I Did on my Summer Vacation"- completely linear and filled with plot points that are superbly uninteresting. Oh well.

I spent much of the weekend drunk or half-drunk, which was fun. I realized to my horror that my roommate is a BIG football fan, which means that this fall is going to be rough. She watched, like, 3 games in a row on Saturday, while I banged my head against the wall and screamed. I didn't really feel I could ask her to turn them off, for she is an acutal fan. However, I think then 3 games in a row is just a bit excessive, don't you? There is nothing in the world that is more boring and inconsequential than a football game. If you're there, it is fun, granted. Hopefully you are also drunk. But I don't see what is so seductive about a game where the players actually play for 2 1/2 seconds, and then stop for 4 minutes. What is up with that? It's like watching a movie where they act for a minute and then stare blankly at the camera for the next 5. Maybe it's just me.

In direct contrast to the Saturday of sports, I met my mom in Skokie on Sunday to catch an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Ahhhh. That's better. It was a really great production, featuring perfect acting and the marvelous costume design of one Gail Brassard, which was a neat surprise. I'm not going to lie, the Mr. Darcy was a wee bit creepy. And man, you can see EVERYTHING through those breeches the fellows were wearing. It was a pretty good adaptation that even added in a shirtless scene, which was startlingly hot. Oh Mr. Wickham. How I prefer you to Mr. Darcy, though you are some sort of cad. Such a nerd. I think that UW is doing P&P in the spring, and I have been informed that if Steve O'Connell is cast as Mr. Darcy, I am required to go and giggle manically with Megan. That would be pretty fun to watch.

I am suddenly getting stressed about my theatrical "career". I received a cast list for Dear World and hysterically started Googling all of my castmates to see if I was way out of my league. Scary. Nice career. Oh Google, how I love thee and thy stalking capabilities. You've helped me find out many hideous and embarassing facts about guys that I thought I liked....until I saw the grim Google results.

Blast from past....

2005-11-02T07:17:00.000-08:00

OMG....remember this? Thanks Kat Nichols, for reminding me of the most insane "theatrical" experience of life. Thought y'all might enjoy this beautiful aesthetic image. This is probably right before we started singing "do re mi".

It was a graveyard smash!

2005-10-31T08:06:00.000-08:00

Joe, Stash & Justin
Party madness! Note our lovely cabinets.

The sweet cast of Peter Pan
Cherie, me, Andy & Jess

Tinkerbell & Wendy....i.e., me & Jess

Yay for the addition of pictures to "Nice Life!" I think life just got a little nicer....

Such a fun weekend! Started out with a kick-ass party (if I do say so myself) at our place on Friday, followed by bar crawling and 5 am McDonald's. Saturday was an evening of suburban fun at Liz's in Naperville, while her new kitten crawled all over my sleeping face and we watched a film called "The Brain that Wouldn't Die." Halloween fun!

The Dulcet Tones of a French Orchestra

2005-10-26T07:12:00.000-07:00

Soooo sleepy. Keep going to thrift stores and Target into the wee hours (i.e. 10 p.m.) to purchase Halloween accoutramants. (seriously misspelled).

I have found the most organized and hilarious Karaoke bar yet....it's a huge gay bar where Karaoke has its own large room and is presided over by a "mildly rotund" drag queen. Goooood times. And you win free drinks or crummy promotional CD's when you sing! Score.

So we decided to have a Halloween party this weekend. Keep throwin' shit together. It should be fun, though. There's something vaguely hilarious and also just a little bit sad about legitimate adults dressing up and eating candy. We bought a bunch of orange and purple lights and fake cobwebs and plastic pumpkins, and a butt-load of candy. It's going to be rough. Alcohol will also be on the menu. I sent out an Evite to those in the area, but in case you didn't get it (or if any of you out-of-towners are mysteriously in Chicago this weekend, and myteriously want to go to a lame party), you should get your asses over here on Friday. I might be showing the Jeremy Wetherald vidcast for inspiration. : )

I ordered the CD of my new show off Amazon for, like, $9 new (that's a VERY bad sign right there) and have listened to most of it. YIIIIIKKKKKEEEES. Oh, God, it's awful. It's SOOO bad. Aaaagh. Angela Landsbury played the lead in the production (this is like, 1969) and she literally has 6 ballads. Who sings 6 ballads?? All are accompanied by Sad French Accordian. Sad French Accordian is ALL OVER this show. Along with bumbling Small French Orchestra, complete with numerous inexplicable percussive instuments. Angela warbles on about love or the morning pretty much the entire show. I have one song, which is actually quite beautiful, but does not contain one actual rhyme. It's all "almost" or "soft" rhymes, and it's kind of driving me crazy. Oh Jerry Herman. I forgot that I don't really like your sentimental, old-woman centered music. So nice to have you back where you belong. Eeeeee.

Movie Memories

2005-10-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

Does anyone remember the movie "Underworld"? An inexplicably large group of us went to see it senior year of college at the Point, and actually played full price. Oh, come on, it's the vampire/werewolf movie with Ben from Felicity, who transforms into a beast while heavy-metal transformin' music throbs in the background. Anyway, I just read that they've made a sequel. What???? How is that even possible? I think we were the only people in America who saw the first one. And it was terrible! Ish! And I kind of want to see the second one, to see Ben with his shirt off again! Aaaaaa!

There's a whole subculture of movies I saw in Madison, that now seems unbelivable. I'm talking The Stepford Wives, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (which Megan & I made a POINT TO SEE), the third Matrix movie, The Wedding Planner, 13 Going on 30, the movie with the conjoined twins, something with Marky Mark and I think I even saw King Arthur. Amazing how a $3 ticket price will really lower your standards. There was one summer that I think Chandler Megan and I saw every movie that played U Square. One of the many things I miss about college.

Weekend was good....dinner in the burbs on Friday followed by the viewing of Jen & Stash's wedding video (eeeeeeee), whole lotta nothin' on Saturday followed by a reunion with Adam McNulty & Lauren Dettloff, Steel Magnolias yet again on Sunday, followed by Desprate Housewives (still don't like it), Grey's Anatomy (really good....check it out) and the White Sox game of glory. Every time a home run was hit, Jess and I opened our windows and could hear the screaming. It was great. Sweet home Chicago....

Nothing is too wonderful to be true

2005-10-19T08:12:00.000-07:00

Anyone ever heard of the musical "Dear World"? No? Anyone ever hear of the show "The Madwoman of Chailloit?" (sp). Maybe?? Well....I just got a lead in the musical version! What, you ask? Another suburban production, Laura? Well, yes, but this one is in a much closer suburb. It's at this tiny yet dignified theatre called Circle Theatre (where I believe Ms. Ryan performed in her youth.) I get to play an "angelic" waitress named Nina who saves some dude or something and sings at least one wistful ballad. WTF? I'm REAL excited, because this is a decent theatre and recieves Jeff noms up the wazoo, but I'm also a little confused. Insecurity is creeping in, and I'm starting to wonder if I got it because I was good, or because everyone else was bad. I only sang one song....no reading or anything. Hmmm. Slightly scary. But yay! I have officially overbooked myself, and am now thinking about renting a car for 2 months. So much for taking a break! I wonder if I should still go on my Private Lives audition on Sunday...hmmmm.....

Sorry for the rant....I have no one to tell, as it is too early to call people, and my co-workers don't really care. Oh cheesiness....here I come!

Yeah, another damn wedding

2005-10-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

So, I've decided as a good, Catholic girl who hasn't been to church in 10 months, that I am absolutely in favor of priests marrying. I'm sure it would make them happier, and that it would curb that pesky molestation problem. But for more than anything, it would make them decent speakers at weddings. I went to my high school best friend's wedding on Friday, which was creepy in and of itself. But the priest who spoke was just...not so good. You could tell he had never laid eyes on either the bride or groom until the rehearsal dinner, and thus had no idea who they were or what he was talking about. My favorite moment was when he said "What is love?" and stared blankly at the audience. I think the question was intended to be rhetorical, but then his face got all quizzical, like "no, seriously, what is love?" and then he looked sort of sad. How can a person who has never been married and is expressly forbidden to be married, be expected to comment on marriage? I half expected him to break out into a melodic "Whe-e-e-e-e-re.....is love??" whilst his eyes filled with tears. It was awkward.

I hate weddings of people I don't know. I mean, I know her, obviously, but I knew no one else there, including the groom, which was weird. I also elected to be a huge snob and wear some sort of elaborate urban gear, while all other attendees wore strappy shorty shiny dresses with sparkles and spangles all over them. I felt very old. The food was swell, though.

I'm so burned out on that damn Steel Magnolias (as I am sure you are all sick to death of hearing about it). Luckily, it will all be over in about a month, and then I will be free, forever. For-ev-er. I have many a raggedy audition coming up, and I'm not feeling too awesome about any of them. I will refrain from discussig, though, because I don't want to jinx myself. Jinx!!

P.S....if you're looking for some time suckage, I found a v funny web site that makes fun of contemporary television (I know, it's like shooting fish in a barrell). www.televisionwithoutpity.com. Check out the SATC entires. Heee!

Who Knew the Smurfs Were Dutch?

2005-10-12T12:23:00.000-07:00

La la la la la la....la la la la la....la la la la la la....la la la la.....OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! WHY??!!!! WHY?!?!?!?!

O-kay...I think we're getting just a wee bit too "real" here. I don't know about you, but the image of beloved cartoon characters being orphaned and left for dead in the fallout of nucleur holocaust won't make me do anything but think that the people who thought this would be a great marketing idea are really sick. What's next? Big Bird contracts syphillis? Kermit the Frog gets a brain tumor? Rainbow Brite raped at gunpoint by an armed thug?

This is a stellar idea. In a present filled with violence, and a future that's a font of terrifying uncertainty, let's take a special moment to scud-bomb any fond memories of our past. Papa Smurf nowhere to be found. Smurfette left for dead. Baby Smurf is screwed. Let's dontate to UNICEF.

Worst Week Ever

2005-10-10T09:29:00.000-07:00

Well, the worst week of life has passed...praise be. OOOOOF. Steel was in previews last week, which meant that we were there until about 12:00 every night....and then had to travel another 40 minutes home. That on top of working a full eight hours every day prior to the rehearsing transformed me into a sleep-deprived, furious, weepy monster who was VERY unpleasant to be around. Top it all off with a Friday seminar that I had to be at at 7 a.m., wearing some sort of suit and uncomfortable shoes. My "job" on Friday was to SIT IN on the 6 hour seminar, front and center, to switch the little speaker cards when different people would speak. I no longer fear hell, for it could be no worse than this. The partner in charge is some sort of Roy Cohn-esque creature who is small and mean and yelled at me three times, though he had never met me before. He wrote a 6 hour SCRIPT, which the other lawyers read from with glum looks on their faces. It was the most egotistical, pompus ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Example from the script...

Lawyer in Charge: (playing CEO of fictitious company) Now, my company "Bad Co" is facing issues. Would it be possible for me to file a fkdajfl;k jfklsdaj fjfkl; fklas; (legal speak) or a fjkdsa; urej jkfdsa jkl;a??

Lawyer forced to play along: (in complete monotone, not looking up from script) Bill, you should have been a lawyer - you're as smart as you are handsome. But you might also wish to file an "integration" request.

Lawyer in Charge: Integration request? Does that have something to do with buses? (looks at audience with expectant grin on face, while all present shift awkwardly in their seats).

And so on. We went 4 1/2 hours without a break for food, water or a toilet. It was the worst day of my life. My ass still hurts.

Well, pushing on from that....the weekend was OK. I finally got to rehearse Steel, including the much-anticipated diabetic fit ("Shelby, you need some juice!") I am now sad, because I actually think I was pretty good and will probably never get to go on. Oh well.

On Saturday, after the sad defeat of our dear Badgers, I went out to the burbs for yet another supportive community theatre outing. Ah, Once Upon a Mattress. The only real word I can think of for that show is unnecessary. It wasn't a terrible production, actually - the leads were surprisingly adept, and it looked like they time-traveled to 1295 to find period-accurate clothing - it was beautiful. Regardless, it was still very rough, especially since the lead was played by a 17-year old homeschooled teen whose education at home is based on getting her to NY to be a musical theatre star. Apparently she is homeschooled by Ethel Merman. Loudest belt I have ever heard. We then went to TGI Fridays in the burbs and hung out with some kids who had just finished homecoming. It was good to get back to the city.

The World is Hideous...

2005-10-05T13:38:00.000-07:00

http://people.aol.com/people/articles/0,19736,1114381,00.html

Ewwww....brainwashed Scientology babies. Is this reminding anyone else just a little bit of frightening made-up socities, such as that of The Handmaid's Tale? Little Scientologists populating the earth...scary.

I had an audition once right by a dilapidated-looking Scientology "Center". The Scientologists were eating bakery cake, and apparently trying to recruit new believers. I was tempted to go hang out with them so I could get a piece of cake, but my common sense won out over my appetite. (For once).

Day Late, Dollar Short

2005-10-03T07:12:00.000-07:00

Aaaaagggghhh. Why must my favorite personal slogan "someone always gets there first" have to prove itself to be absolutely true nearly every day of my life? On Saturday, Nicole and I went to Wrigleyville to participate in a birthday celebration party with people I don't really know, for the sole purpose of trying to flirt with the birthday guy, who is cute/straight/ALLEGEDLY single. Of course, because I was sort of interested, God decided it was time for him to find a girlfriend, like, a week ago. There she was in all her plaid-miniskirt, chunky ankle boot glory, and I felt like an ass. It's as if the universe is conspiring against the notion of me actually getting laid- like that's too repulsive to even contemplate, so Nature must step in to prevent something so catostophic. Grrrr. Luckily Nicole was there - aside from the fact that it's really fun to see/hang out with her, she was a much-needed buffer and saved me from a night of intense embarrassment and drinking away the pain. So, thank you Nicole.

I realize in the grand scheme of things - evil government reducing civil liberties, homeless Katrina babies and the possibility of the deadly "bird flu" entering the US and killing us all, problems like this seem very stupid/small. But, as Rachel McPhee would say, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to." So cry I will. Just a little.

In other news, Steel Magnolias is in the final week of dress rehearsals, and may I just say YIIIIKES. It's an extremely rough play. And very, very VERY boring. I don't believe this is the fault of the actors, but instead the fault of a weak, not that witty, saccharine script. I know, it's hard to believe I could hate on the play that spawned a beloved movie, but it must be said. The first scene alone is like, 45 minutes long. And don't get me started on the HIDEOUS costumes. So much pink, but more than anything, they're just boring. I could have done as much and I stunk in my costume design course.

Sorry for the ranting. Lovely way to start the week, isn't it?

"And just like that, Charlotte got out of the 'box'" or..."That night, Samantha realized she could have her 'cake' and eat it too"...

2005-09-30T09:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, we all know I LOVE cliches, and I'm a big fan of jumping on the trend bandwagon months after the trend has become cliche. These two parts of me have converged to turn me into a Sex and the City freak as of late. Though the show is over and everyone else is over it, I have become obsessed, via TBS and DVDs stolen from my friend Matt. Jessica and I have become antisocial hermits, on our couch in our pajamas all night, watching episode after episode of this ridiculous, cliche-ridden, dated, vapid show. And we LOVE it. This is similar to other trends I have adopted after I have ridiculed those who follow them, swearing up and down that you would never catch me in capri pants, chunky necklaces or anything green, and I would rather die than watch America's Next Top Model or The OC, all things I now embrace with passion. Oh trends.

I do love that SATC, though. It's pretty sweet. Maybe it's one of those things that you can't appreciate until you are older, or more in that state of life. I remember seeing Reality Bites when it first came out and thinking it was stupid, but as a senior thinking it was the most profound thing that had ever been put on film. I now live in a city and wear a variety of multicolored high heels. That is the extent of the similarities between me and Carrie Bradshaw, but it is closer nonetheless.

Nice post.

Grant Me Grace

2005-09-27T07:10:00.000-07:00

Keep auditioning for The Last Five Years. OOOOOFFF. Never audition in a Catholic girls school library in inner-city Evanston for two gay 12-year olds who started their 2 year old company just out of HIGH SCHOOL. It sucks enough to be rated and judged by industry professionals - but not by people who could be my sons. The situation was VERY L5Y, with "200 girls who are younger and thinner than me", wearing elaborate frilly blouses and trumpet skirts in pink and earth tones, with perfectly curled hair and about a foot of makeup. I sulked in the corner wearing some sort of black ensemble, not talking to anyone. So approachable. I hate auditions. I don't think I got it, but whatever. It seems like I keep going further and further out for these calls - I briefly considred attending an audition for a dinner theatre in Indiana, and am sure it's only a matter of time before I'm taking the Badger Bus up to Milwaukee Rep auditions. Sigh. Never take the El to the end of the line. Soooo many bums trying to smell my hair and quietly walking behind me. Aaaaaaa. Big city livin'...

Why?

2005-09-21T08:49:00.000-07:00

I don't know if my complaints will fall upon deaf ears, but I feel the need to express them. The Chicago Tribune announced yesterday that it will be changing the name of our beloved Marshall Field's Department store to Macy's. WTF??? Keep changin' a Chicago institution. I know many of you are not of Chicago, and do not care, but it's a big old slap in the face to those who grew up in the area, and went to Field's all the time as kids. Once again, we are not New York. Boooo. I guess that means that the Field's in Madison will now be called Macy's. Ish. Very angry...where will I buy shoes and scarves and Frango mints? Anger...

The Love that Dares not Speak its Name, and Other Weekend Events

2005-09-19T07:09:00.000-07:00

Soooo many theatrics this weekend, both intentional and unintentional. Well, let's see....

On Friday, I went with Jessica to the suburbs to visit Jenny & Stash, and had a very geriatric game night. It was a lot of fun, though. Who knew you could play Apples to Apples for 3 hours? Who needs bars and casual sex when you have board & card games?? It was a nice crowd of people, including Andy and their friend Mike (kind of cute....funny....strange rural Illinois accent...keep you posted). We drank many a pina collada (or "glass of man-juice" as Andy called it), and also played a very ruff game called "Tune-baya". It basically had no rules and entailed everyone singing well-known songs such as "How Much is that Doggie in the Window" in a tuneless yell. Good times.

Then on Saturday morning, it was the event we've all been waiting for...the wedding of our friends Michael and Christopher. It was held in the theatre where we performed Forum(!) and was seriously a lavish musical. There was a literal set and lighting designer, and many musical theatre ballads sung by mediocre singers. All in all, it was actually a lovely service, and much more interesting than the Catholic wedding masses where I spend most of my time. The reception was in a gi-normous tent, where about 200 people got drunk at 2 in the afternoon. Sweet. It was quite the assortment of genders and sexual preferences, but much more tame than I expected. Needless to say, I did not hook up with anyone, for the mere fact that all of the straight men were cowering in the corner. On a similar note, I saw a preview for "Brokeback Mountain"...oh the sad gay cowboy movie. Love me a love that dares not speak its name.

P.S., I want to just state here and now that I am never going to a "world premire" of a play that isn't at a reputible theatre again. I saw a truly hideous play called "Office Girl" that featured horrible acting, a repulsive set, sweaty performers and a cliche-ridden, rip-off script. Never write a dramatic version of "High Fidelity". Especially when it's unintentional. The tiny theatre (similar to Broom street) was also under the El, so every ten minutes the building would shake with a passing train. More annoying than charming.

Sunday, the woman who plays Clairee in our show called me randomly and invited me to go to a play with her. It was unexpected and sort of weird, but I glady accepted. Much better than staying home and watching "Maid in Manhattan" on FX. It was actually a good play, and she knew literally all the people there and kept walking me around and introducing me as "an up-and-coming young actress in the area." Sweet of her to lie like that. : ) I am neither up nor coming. Hardee har har.

Did anyone else watch the Emmys? It was the ruffest moment of life. Never have an "Emmy Idol" contest. Keep stretching out the show for 3 hours. And keep watching the whole thing, me. The only part with any shred of dignity was the battle of the network newcasters. That was pretty good.

It is pissing rain right now. And, the add to the wonder of my Monday, while crossing the street to work, I slipped and fell on my face in the middle of a tremendously busy intersection. So now I have 2 bruised knees. No wearing skirts for me....people will speculate. As a result, I swiped my card at 9:00 exactly....which technically makes me late. Again. Awesome.

So, we'll see where this week goes. A good weekend/bad Monday leaves the possibilities wide open...and Monday has barely begun. Stay tuned.... : )

Chillin' on the Sunstar Deck...

2005-09-12T07:47:00.000-07:00

Ah, my darlings...

A lovely weekend of laziness has just ended - single tear. Shenanigans abounded when Jess, Cherie, Andy and I headed out bright and early Saturday morning in search of "vintage" clothing, via the Salvation Army. Being accustomed to the bohemian middle-class castoffs of St. Vinny's in Madison, I was discomforted to discover that the Salvation Army of downtown Chicago is somewhat different. It was smelly and filthy and filled with poverty-stricken individuals purchasing used panties. Immediatley, middle-class guilt flared up in me, along with a fear of touching anything. While Cherie and Jessica leapt into a pile of used dresses, Andy and I looked uncomfortably at each other, conflicted about whether or not it was wrong to loudly make fun of everything we saw. I've decided that Andy is some sort of kindred spirit, after we stayed up until 3 on Friday crying over a TV special on Hurricaine Katrina.

Eventually we loosened up as the radio began playing a non-stop array of disco hits. We decided that the Salvation army was a frustrated gay disco. We then proceeded to dress Jessica (who is the size of my wrist) in an array of insane outfits that we couldn't fit into. I also found a stack of records containing several OBC's of A Chorus Line, Annie and Oklahoma! I declined to purchase when I realized I did not have a record player. If I was more industious, I would think of some way to use them as decoration, but they were pretty filthy. They also had a hilarious video and audio tape section featuring tapes of stuff people had recorded off TV, and personalized mix tapes that someone had made. It would be sad to go to the Salvation Army and find the precious mix tape that you made your lover carelessly discarded.

We then stumbled upon a consignment store in Lincoln Park that was MUCH more up my snobby, snotty alley. It was filled with harldly-worn designer garments and an astonishing collection of last-season Ann Taylor Loft, which was exciting until I realized all of these richies were a size 2. That's not working for me so much.

More shenanigans ensued, until we found ourselves out the door to attend Adam McNulty's "Jazzy Wine and Cheese Party". We discovered Nicole Ryan, Nate Daigle and Lauren Dettloff there - like some sort of reality TV reunion. (But much fun). As expected, we drank wine and ate cheese, while wondering why a DJ had been brought into the apartment with a large NO FOOD OR DRINK on his table. Hmmmm. Then it was off to Roscoe's for some reason - I don't know why every night must end in a gay club. Andy found a man while Nicole, Nate, Nicole's friend Stacy and I danced awkwardly, surrounded by beefy shirtless men, and Jessica got harrassed by the one other straight man. I'm over the gay clubs. Love the gays, tired of the sweaty love surrounding me that I cannot partake in. I also fell on my face in front of many people, which was fun.

So the next morning, Jess, Andy (who is our Kato) and I decided to do some poolside loungin', which I had not done yet this summer. Jess promptly fell asleep in the sun while Andy ran my Steel Magnolias lines with me, doing a surprisingly accurate Louisiana accent. My building's pool is hilarious - it's like some sort of cruise-ship deck. So opulent...

Then I was forced to go to rehearsal, which was okay. It's hard to watch two people act at the same time, and remember everything they do. Luckily, Shelby was dead in the last scene we did so I only had to watch one person. The M'Lynn breakdown scene was actually very touching, and I did a small weep. Keep weepin'.

Oh, the weekend reports...good times. Join me later this week, when I will discuss more Steel Magnolias rehearsals, taking a trip to the library, watching Sex and the City on TBS, and planning work events. It's gonna be good...

Laborious Labor Day...j/k

2005-09-07T07:32:00.000-07:00

Ahhh...every weekend should be 3 days. Had a lovely/relaxing Labor Day weekend at my parent's house, which I have kind of been retreating to lately. Hmmm. Maybe a bad sign. Anyway, on Saturday I went up to my aunt's summer home in Michigan, and spent time with her two sweet, slightly high-strung children. Also got to spend some time on the beach...for the first time this summer. Better late than never. And, on the way out of town, I coerced my dad to stop at an outlet mall, which contained an Ann Taylor Factory Store. If I'm going to dress like a 35-year old, I'm going to do it cheaply. Soooo many bargains.

Sunday was a beautiful morning of sleep followed by a cookout at the home of Jenny & Stash, those newlyweds. Apparently when you get married you acquire a whole lot of ridiculous shit, such as corn butterers, which prompt you to have people over so you can use them. Sweet. But it was fun to hang out with my adopted group of friends from U of I (so random) and skip rehearsal, which I did on Sat, Sun & Mon. (I'm allowed to do that...but it's still pretty rough. Have to make an appearance tonight). And Monday I took the train home alongside a very wizened, beaky, VERY old woman who kept talking in a scary raspy voice. I'm not going to lie, old people kind of freak me out.

So now I'm back at work (sigh.) I literally have nothing to do today...and I came in at 8 to "help" with a meeting, yet just sat in the "sound booth" and stared into space. I'm so accomplished.

This entry is really boring. I felt the need to update, yet have nothing to say. Hmmm. Oh, I learned how to professionally wash hair last week. That was fun. Never be in a show that requires a "hair rehearsal" at a local beauty salon. I washed the pomade out of our Wetheraldian stage manager's large hair, and soaked his shirt and got a large lump of soap directly in his eyeball. I'm a good person. I guess we're (or they're) going to have a working hair salon sink on stage. Ah, realism. How unnecessary you are.

"You need to work on your 'schwa'" (Dialect coach)

2005-09-02T07:12:00.000-07:00

Anyone else starting to hate theatre just a little bit? If not, swing on by my Steel Magnolias rehearsals. No, I don't really mean that. I'm just having a difficult time dealing with the extensive table-talk. We have to collectively create backstories for every individual mentioned in the play, which is always a good use of rehearsal time. For example...

The line....
Clairee: "Whitey Black is a moron. I don't even think he has opposable thumbs." (Only time this character is ever mentioned in the play...he is the town vet).

Director: Hmmmm....interesting. Now, Clairee, why would you make this harsh statement? Who is Whitey to you- what is your relationship?

Clairee: (Long pause). That's....that's interesting. I suppose he could be unfriendly, perhaps. Or not quite human. That would make the "opposable thumbs" comment make sense.

Woman playing M'Lynn: I get the feeling that he's a coarse man. And your character wouldn't like to deal with those who are coarse.

(Nods all around)

Woman playing Ouiser: Or, perhaps, he's offensive to women. And we, as women in the beauty shop band together against those who are offensive to women.

(More enthusiastic nodding)

Clairee: I think we all grew up together...maybe he mistreated my dog in the past, and now Ouiser is offending and hurting me by continuing to take her dog there!

(Murmurs of agreement)

And so on for twenty minutes.

O-kay....so I know that you need to do your research and you need to table talk....but this just feels ridiculous. Maybe all my other shows have just been going about it the wrong way. But it's Steel Magnolias, folks - it's poorly written dinner theatre fare, with many a wisecrack and cliche Southern expression. I haven't dissected a script this much since Marcus Peterson made me describe what "thrill me, chill me" and "fulfill me" meant (separatley) in Rocky Horror.

In the words of Jeremy's mom, "let's call a spade a spade."

In other news....I had my last class on Monday night...single tear. I will miss the oc-ness of it all, and my many inappropraite and gay-themed scenes. Makes you appreciate the "free" acting classes of college when you have to pay $400 for them.

I also got my headshots back...eeeye. So much....me. I think I might do a very cliche "mailing" to casting directors and good theatres - perhaps as part of a montage that shows me pounding the pavement looking for jobs, failing at auditions, and many casting directors slowly shaking their heads "no", until the one very good-looking dude nods "yes" at the end and I laugh with delight. I think it will be set to that Jamiriquoi song from Center Stage. Love me a montage. Keep pretending your life is a very mundane movie.

Something Familiar...Something Peculiar

2005-08-27T22:54:00.000-07:00

Coming at you from the den/TV room at 495 Signal, in good old G-lake. I had to do a quick retreat from the menace of the city to rejeuvenate in the "country". Oof.

So, on Thursday, I thought it would a super-swell idea to go out with Jessica, Andy & Cherie to some sort of North Side bar. Which featured $3 Cosmos. Mistake #1. Drinking 4 of them...Mistake #2. Hitting on some sort of chubby computer engineer...Mistake #3. Picking up phone to drunk-dial friends and men from the past...Mistake #4. Throwing up out of the window of a moving car as a cab full of dudes cheered...Mistake #5. Waking up in my jeans and bra with my contacts and earrings still in, but my work bag mysteriously all packed...Mistake #6. Being so ill that I actually had to call in sick from work on Friday...Mistake #7. That's seven mistakes too many.

So, after I recovered from the revelries of Thursday by watching eight hours of television on Friday, I decided I needed a break, and got on the train home. Sigh. It's nice here. My mom and I went to go see "...Forum" at the Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire (very highbrow Chicago suburban-Equity theatre...good stuff.) It was very intense. For one, I still remember every single line from that damn show, so I was mouthing the words and lyrics, which was embarassing. The lead was quite good though...quite quite good. His appearance was VERY Winklesian, which was a little distracting/frightening (like some sort of twin), but he was very funny. Lots of rubbery face acting.

I still feel ill. Never. Drinking. Again.

So, I was inspired by the tininess of my roommate to begin doing 8-minute abs, which is very cliche. But man...that shit works. My abs hurt a lot. The video is also hilarious and very early-nineties, with a man in a baggy, tucked-in tank referring to me as "gang" and reminding me every 10 seconds that "This is a GREAT program! It's only EIGHT minutes!" I already bought/rented the tape...stop trying to convince me. I have decided that it's already working, and that I am svelter. This is untrue.

I wish I hadn't called in on Friday. Now I'm all confused about time/space/the world, and would rather just not go to work at all on Monday. Boo. My last class is on Mon...should be interesting. I had a sketchy "consultation" with my teacher about my future or something...he seemed optimistic. I guess that's good. Then "Steel Magnolias" begins on Tuesday. So many projects...

I think I might be auditioning for a college production of "Little Shop..." Nice life. Jeremy, Anna...that takes me back to our recording sessions. Good times. : )

Baseball and Beatles and Singing...OH MY!!!

2005-08-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

Oooooooofff! (Happy noise).

Had a WONDERFUL workshop this weekend entitled "Auditioning for Musical Theatre". I learned so much and met so many interesting people - well worth the $. It was run by this cool guy, Bob Mason, who is the casting director of Chicago Shakespeare Theatre (reverent hush), and this woman Becky who runs the MT program at Northwestern and is the best accompanist I've ever heard. They were so incredibly nice / wise (the antithesis of most casting directors), and the class was swell, with many a random professional actor who love them an intense act of a song. (That was so grammatically incorrect I could kill myself - if Anna doesn't do it first.) I actually met the woman who will be playing Miss Clairee in my Steel Magnolias production - very random - and she was great. It was just good all around. They even made me a personalized CD filled with obscure/GREAT songs that they thought would be right for my voice type & personality. I have song suggestions for all you ladies now. Really good ones. And Bob Mason said he would call me back to a musical if I auditioned for him. Heaven.... : )

Sorry, that was rough. But those who read my sketchy blog know that I spend most of my time whining and throwing lavish pity parties for myself, so it feels good to feel good about my theatrical life....and I'm going to enjoy it for one post.

I went to that White Sox game on Friday night, which was a lot of fun. I brought my friend Cherie, and we arrived fashionably late and then proceeded to drink beer and talk about which NY Yankees we would get with. And the evening was topped off by a fireworks show set to Beatles music(!) It was "Beatles Tribute Night", and there was many a trivia question being asked on a giant screen, to which I would screech the correct replies. They were pretty much all about that drummer that got kicked out and replaced by Ringo JUST before they became incredibly rich/famous. Sad for him...

Saturday night was spent with Liz (now 25! - Happy Birthday!) and her BF and friend at the trashy yet delightful John Barleycorn's. We drank a pathetic two drinks apiece and then stared at the well-toned Greek types falling in love with each other. Twas romance at its finest. I spent a lot of time trying to make eyes at a cute guy who was there with a very un-cute girl, and a book. He was most likely gay. Keep bringing a book to a bar. VERY me.

Technology? No, thanks.

2005-08-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

How do you set up links to other people's blogs? I don't understand....

So things are going okay, I guess. I just found out that my job has changed, which is interesting. I no longer do any event planning, which is happy yet sad. I liked slash hated that part of my job. Now I get to work with all the practice areas, including the one headed up by the cottage-cheese attorney. Awesome.

It's very hot and humid here in Chicago right now. I think that summer may have worn out its welcome this year. We get it. It's August. Get over yourself.

Oof, you know you have nothing to report in your life when you start typing about the weather. Soon I will be musing about animals and the world, or something cliche like that.

I signed up to take a 2-day intensive musical theatre workshop this weekend, a choice that I am regretting more and more with every passing second. All I want to do this weekend is lay on the couch in my air-conditioned apartment. Not a good sign. So much singing, and "cutting" songs, and being polite to accompanists. I hope it's not like Bill Farlow's "class" junior year, wherin he would often blank out while we were singing, then suggest we sing a Kurt Weil song, and abruptly end class an hour early, while all the MFAs looked murderously at the floor and each other. Good times.

So my new scene for class explores the always-fun topic of latent lesbianism. Mmmm. Fun. My scene partner came over to my house last night, and we loudly rehearsed a lesbian arguement, most likely to the horror/delight of my fratty neighbors. I'm not sure if they can hear us over there...one would hope not, because I spend a lot of my alone time belting out show tunes, complete with whatever lines are spoken within such songs. We live in between an Indian couple with a screaming baby, and these two very hot, very rude overgrown frat-boy types who always have a large array of drunken, slutty looking girls with them, and either guffaw when they see us (while drunk in the evening), or ignore us completely (waiting for the elevator, hung over). Ah, neighbors.

I miss my Madison friends. My firm has tickets to a White Sox game, and we all get to bring someone and I, humiliatingly, have no one to take with me. God, that's sad. People need to do a visit, stat. It's both good and bad that we're scattered all over the globe - good for visiting and hilarious story purposes, bad for free White Sox games. I'm a fair-weather Cub fan anyway.

The McClain Inn - NO VACANCY

2005-08-15T07:03:00.000-07:00

So apparently I live in a hotel. I don't really have any problem with people sleeping over at our place, but lately it seems like every morning there's a different damn person on our sofa bed. This morning it was a random friend (whose name I can't recall) of my roommate's sort-of-boyfriend who is moving to Colorado, like tomorrow. WTF? She and these two guys went out last night until literally four in the morning, at which time I was awakened from a hard-to-achieve sleep by Jessica yelling "Shhhh!!! DON'T WAKE UP MY ROOMMATE!!! SHHHHHH!!!!!" Yeah, not so helpful.

I spent this weekend remembering how to get drunk, which was only mildly fun. I really think my heavy drinkin' days are behind me. Pathetic. I stayed in with Cherie and Andy on Friday night, where we blew through a tremendous amount of alcohol - I would say about four bottles of wine and a bottle of flavored vodka. The night somehow ended with Andy showing me clips of his show choir performances and me drunkenly showing him college pictures with a nonstop narrative. Saturday was a little milder, but ended with me, Andy (again - new BF, Laura?) and April (yet another Jessica show choir friend - keep being some sort of new kid on the block) at the drive-thru for the new "super" McDonald's in the Loop - where the Rock 'n Roll McDonald's used to be. Such an eyesore. Can probably be seen from space.

Sunday was a ghastly wedding shower for my best friend from high school...(shudder). So many 20-year old sorority girls in pastel floral dresses drinking tea and tittering over oven mitts and Corningware. Where the hell was I? It was extremely rough, and made me very glad that: a) I'm not getting married any time soon, and b) I attended a Big Ten school, not a teeny Lutheran college that requires you to bow your head in prayer before eating a fruit cup. I was very glad to get on the train and get the hell out of there.

Talked briefly to RLM yesterday...official blog shout-out to the "peeps" in London.

Ugh, the blog culture - so well informed on the miniscule (i.e. uninteresting) details of each other's lives...

"It's like Star Wars, with spaceships and planets....and I'm the Princess"

2005-08-12T14:26:00.000-07:00

Quoth Rufus Wainwright.

Had a loverly evening last night at the picturesque Ravinia avec Megan and Steve (and a host of other randoms, including the roommate and her friends and some folks from work) and saw Rufus Wainwright and Ben Folds. It was very very fun. I wasn't aware of Rufus' massive gayness - it was a pleasant surprise. And Ben Folds was fantastically geeky and enthusiastic, and actually broke the piano with his hearty playing, which was awesome. He just pulled the two broken strings out and continued to wail, which was pretty sweet. He then hurled his stool at the piano, probably resulting in thousands of dollars worth of damage. ROCK ON!!!

Megan and Steve and I had a languid picnic of cheese and crackers and Soft Batch cookies, and three bottles of wine (mmm...one of them was called Head Butt - never pick a wine because the name of it makes you giggle). I love Ravinia. Those of you who have never attended, it really is a must-see. It's very pretty and outdoorsy, and they let you drink a massive amount of booze. And apparently, it's cool if you smoke weed, too, because the smell in the Pavilion was overpowering. Good times.

I indulged myself in taking my first day off of work since I started yesterday...a major milestone. It was WONDERFUL. I highly recommend it. Seven months of working with no real holidays to speak of (and the ones I had were spent in transit or moving) makes one bitter and evil. A day of sleep and Gilmore Girls reruns can really rejeuvenate the soul.

I wish that this blog had spell-check. I have become lax as a result of constant spellcheck in both my email and word documents- my spelling becomes more atrocious every day.

I found a cool and semi-helpful new web site know as www.musicaltheatreaudition.com. It is what it promises.

Sooooo....a theatre here in Chicago just announced that next season they're doing The Last Five Years and Pippin. Sweet!! Even though I walked out on the one production I saw at this theatre, it could be good...maybe. It's audition season!!! (Scary).

Nerd-Fever

2005-08-08T10:32:00.000-07:00

Ooooooffffff. So very, very tired. I was up pretty late last night, in bed with one of my favorite dudes. And that would be Harry Potter. Cool people (like my roommate) are tired on Monday mornings because they were up all night having multiple orgasms - I am tired because I'm on pins and needles about things like the Golden Snitch and the history of Tom Riddle. What?? Even now, the book is burning a hole through my desk drawer, begging to be read. Only a half-hour till lunch...then it's just me and Harry.

Yikes.

This weekend was OK - we had a housewarming party on Friday, which was poorly attended, but no biggie. Jess made a huge amount of food, and I enjoyed eating it, so it's all good. Her cute friend Mike dropped in (might have to hit on him), and there was a quasi-love connection made between on of my gay BF's and Jess' gay BF. Awwww. On Saturday I enjoyed a late sleep, and then spent an unhealthy amount of money at the Gap (friends and family days coupon - thanks) and traveled to the remote "borough" of Andersonville with friends for some overpriced Korean fare and a large martini. Sooo urbane...

Sunday was also enjoyable - baby brother Brian ventured into the city on the Metra train, and we had a fun afternoon of walking and eating. Love that little bro.

And then, like an ass, I attemped to begin Harry at about 9 p.m. last night. Silly mistake. My bloodshot eyes are a small price to pay for the glory of the late-night reading.

This coming week should be filled with various degrees of alcohol and oc-ness- acting class tonite, mommy in town tomorrow, Ben Folds concert (yess!) with Meg and Steve on Wednesday, no work (YESSSS!!!) on Thursday, bridal "tea" for high school BFF (getting married - hmmmmm...) on Sunday...so many events!

I truly don't know who/what I'm writing for anymore. I think this is just easier on the hands than composing an actual diary. And, sadly, I would have nothing more scandalous/erotic to report in a real diary.

That's so sad.

The Best Things in Life Are Free...(or not)

2005-08-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

P.S., I take back everything I said about the law firm. Well, not everything - they are and will always be quite evil. But money is the root of all evil, and for some bizarre reason, I just got a raise! Woo-hoo! Oh money, if loving you is wrong, then I don't want to be right. I think this means I can take another class this summer! (dances).

In other news...well, that's about it. The penthouse gym in my building opened up, which is good/bad. It's good if I go, because then I will be svelte, but bad if I don't, because I no longer have an excuse to be rotund.

Also...I have been made the "Cover Girl" of Jim Stauffer's headshot website.
( http://mypeoplepc.com/members/jimstauffer/headshots/ ) Gaze upon me! Roachie is featured as well. Picking headshots is hard. Never stare for hours at a proof sheet filled with tiny pictures of yourself. You'll want a new face by the time you're done.

Apologies for the momentarily self- and life-loving entry. Don't worry, I'll be back to depressive self-loathing before long.

Laura = Destroyer of Romance

2005-08-02T07:26:00.000-07:00

So I lumbered home from acting class last night, sweaty and disheveled, wielding an enormous bag of unhealthy groceries, to find my roommate sitting in dim lighting, wineglass in hand, with her long-distance sort-of boyfriend, as the Garden State soundtrack gently played in the background. Did I tiptoe around this scene and thoughtfully make myself scarce? Nope. I instead proceeded to talk loudly about nothing, while preparing some kind of egg dish, as they looked increasingly uncomfortable. And who can blame them? I am, after all, Romance's greatest enemy. As usual, I felt large and unloved. Sigh.

Well, my time with Angels in America has ceased, which is probably a good thing. I really enjoyed doing the scene, but strife and heartbreak just aren't very summery emotions. My next scene is from a comedy called "Wonder of the World" which originally starred Sarah Jessica Parker (thus her lame picture on the cover of my script, which automatically destroys any public credibility). I will miss working with my sweet scene partner - I now have to work with a gruff older man. I know that part of me will feel betrayed when Scene Partner #1 works on other projects with other people - very much like Harper actually felt in Angels in America. Huh. Or not at all.

Hurray for acting class. It's good fun. And one of the students is a) an underwater photographer, and b) owns a candy store, which is awesome. Every week he brings in a large box of designer chocolates. In other words, Laura's fat dream come true.

"Not Tonight, I'm On My Pyramid"

2005-08-01T07:14:00.000-07:00

Direct quote. DIRECT QUOTE from "The Mystery of Irma Vep", the extremely sketchy show that Meg and I took in on Saturday night. And what makes it even worse is that it was a Jim Greco-inspired ad lib. So highbrow.

So I got new headshots taken on Saturday - interesting experience. I've found that I really, truly hate having my pic taken, which isn't good when you have a three hour "shoot". Luckily, Jim Stauffer kept me amused with tales of Patricia, which is always a hilarious subject. Keep not moving on.

So, after many clicks of the camera, when Jim had pronounced that I looked "Euro" (whatever the f that means), I left the wilds of Monona, proof sheet in hand, and proceeded to Megan's house in Madison. I shrieked for a few minutes when I saw her chopped-off hair (we've decided that it's very Jo from Little Women) which was fun. We then moved to Dotty's for a delightful grease-fest with the always-entertaining Pam, and then made our way to dear ol' Vilas for some theatrics. Yiiiikkkkeeesss. Nice drag. The most amusing thing about the show to me was the speed and dexterity with which they changed costumes. Winkles had one change that inspired gasps and applause - literally three seconds. I don't know, I never actually saw Das Barbecu, but I think this one was almost more impressive.

Then it was on to the dank basement of the Wine Cellar for overpriced spirits and semi-awkward conversation about the antics of Summer '04 (i.e., the would-be "Summer of Laura") Good times. Oh Madison. Get me the f away from you.

The visit ended with a good sleep in Steve O'Connell's bed (sans Steve) and a bewildering breakfast experience at Mickie's Dairy Bar, which is horrifying and filthy. Very Madison.

I just realized that I am entering my sixth year of spending time in Madison. SIX YEARS. Aaaaaa.

Spent last evening at my sketchy favorite Chicago gay bar, Sidetracks (or Sidetrash), for musical theatre night. This is a glorious Sunday/Monday night ritual that includes hundreds of large, hairy men in tank tops belting out Barbara tunes at the top of their lungs, and performing the original choreography from The Life. Needless to say, I love it. I also found out I'm getting invited to my first gay wedding (my friends Michael and Chris). Hurrah! Such a hag.

Jessica and I are having our first party on Friday evening. If you're reading this, you're invited. If you're reading this, I'm sorry.

Why I'm Not Going to Law School

2005-07-29T10:33:00.000-07:00

Life at the law firm - (sigh).

I'm finally starting to understand why there are so many lawyer jokes in the world, and why whenever a lawyer gets killed in a movie (i.e. Jurassic Park), it's a moment of triumph for humanity. I was having lunch with many a co-worker yesterday, listening to them trade "hilarious" stories about partners in the firm, including, but not limited to, an attorney who demands cottage cheese at whatever function he attends, and is livid and will call you "brainless" if you don't provide it, and another who hissed in the face of a manager "Whenever you make binders for presentations, I am last. YOU ALWAYS SAVE THE BEST FOR LAST!"

Everyone else pealed with laughter at those heartless monsters, while I sat with my mouth hanging open. Keep having a job that's only function is to provide the afforementioned cottage cheese and ensure that the best is saved for last. I need a new career.

A Quick Weep, Courtesey of Tony Kushner

2005-07-26T07:59:00.000-07:00

I'm very tired today, as a direct result of staying up past midnight to watch my DVD of Angels in America. I received the DVD as a Christmas gift, and watched Part I right away, but hadn't watched Part II yet. Yiiiikkkees. So good. So much weeping. I had to do my Angels scene last night in class which was RUFF...my teacher did a push, which somehow led to me screaming and sobbing, and unable to stop. I guess it was some sort of shoddy breakthrough. I sat like a big soggy mess on the stage, as the class nodded appreciatively. There's nothing like hysterically weeping on stage to fool people into thinking you're some kind of artist.

Ah, the magic of theatre. Nothing like paying money to allow people to make you feel rejected and sad.

Literal Wedding Crasher

2005-07-25T07:09:00.000-07:00

Ooof.

So, this weekend was pretty oc. It began fairly normally, with the end-of-work on Friday, followed by Liz coming downtown for some boyfriendless fun. A random friend I made while working on a sketchy Japanese/Kirkland speaking engagement invited me to this brainwashing Kate Spade event, with free booze and late-night access to handbags I could never afford. So Liz and I made like a poor man's Sex and the City, dolled ourselves up, and proceeded to pretend we were elite. I think they caught on to us. I love Liz and our snobbishness. We then proceeded to drink a large bottle of cheap wine and watch a VHS of The Rocky Horror Show. OOOOFFF. Lookin' good.

The next morning was filled with a whirlwind of activity in preparation for the wedding of Jenny and Stash. Jenny and Stash are two very new friends who randomly invited me to their wedding about, oh, a month ago. They're incredibly sweet and super-cute, and enjoy the kind of adorable relationship that only Hollywood can create.

Sooo...the wedding was LOVELY, though held in an un-air-conditioned church in 100 degree heat. My friend Andy claimed it was because there were so many gays and non-Catholics in the church. We think God was just raising his smiting finger when the wedding ended. I did many a weep at the church, which was very ruff because I barely know these people. But they sang a soaring love duet, that was actually quite beautiful, and hired a Chicago Concert Choir to sing at the back of the church, like some sort of collection of angels. Beautiful music makes me weep - ask anyone who watched me silently cry during Norma's class senior year, when she played some opera. Keep being a poor man's Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman".

Anyway, we then proceeded to the reception where I for some unexplained reason danced like a mofo. I think it was because of all of those gays, who fell madly in love with me, as expected. I have NEVER seen dancing like that in public. People were doing lifts and acrobatics and flying heedlessly through the air wth absolutely no regard for their well-being. It was great. My friend Andy completely split his pants, and someone, while doing an elaborate dance move to Jess, banged her head on the dance floor. But drunkeness kills all pain. I was also hit on by some extrememly ruff straights, including my roomie's date, who was drunk beyond all sense and had a penchant for stroking my ear and neck area. Aaaaaa.

And then five of us slept in one hotel room, which was ruff. And then, in the next morning's heat, I proceeded to haul my ass back into the city for my extremely sketchy Macabaret callback. OOOOPS. I didn't really feel like singing (as you can imagine) and I think it "read". Don't think I'll be getting cast in that one. Oh well, I didn't have any great desire to look like (in the words of the director) "a fabulous Liza clone....only dead". Think I'm taking that Steel Magnolias gig.

Then Megan came into town, which was, as always, very fun. I miss my Meggers real bad. We had the obligatory 2-hour couch chat about a variety of bizarre topics, and then went in the scorching heat for some dinner. There was a small, unsupervised child at the restaurant who kept running into the kitchen and escaping into the outdoor seating area, which was nerve-racking for overty motherly types like Meg and I.

So, that was m'weekend. Yiiiiikkkkeeees....

30 Minutes of Wonderful v. Lifetime of Nothing Special

2005-07-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride....that's my story. Metropolis called me last night, which was suprising, and offered me the prestegious role of understudy to Shelby and Annelle in Steel Magnolias. Hmm. Not exactly sure what to do about this one. Let's make a pros/cons list, shall we?

Pros:
Professional show
$200 stipend + $30/show
Good experience - get to learn two characters
Only have to attend twice a week / one performance a weekend
Meet sketchy women actors
Get my bio / pic in the program (ah, vanity)
Good on resume
Ability to memorize such lines as "Pink is my signature color", and "My personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair."
Might be able to wrange a Sunday matinee mercy show out of them

Cons:
Ruff
Inability to do anything else until Novemeber
Mind filled with hateful thoughts, such as "I really hope she gets sick", or "Maybe if I just pushed her down those stairs..."
Arlington Heights is 40 minutes away, and I don't have a car
Would be a literal bitch of the show for the whole run = no vacations, always stuck in Chicago
Have to be there for all of tech week

This is a toughie! Don't know what to do...

I also met with my roomie's friend who plays the piano last night to learn my songs for the Macabaret callback (get it? Macabaret...???) which slightly reminds me of "Fright Fest" at Great America. I have to learn a smoky torch song called "Ghost of a Chance", which is actually okay until I inform my beloved that I have "returned from the afterlife." And then, the true gem, "Dear Doctor Kevorkian (Three)" (apparently there are several reprises), in which I inform the famed death doctor that I feel "Chekovian and Govorkian", and beseech him to refer to me as "Sue Icide". Right...

Things are really looking up, as you can see.

If All Your Friends Jumped Off a Bridge...

2005-07-21T14:52:00.000-07:00

I must say that I agree with RLM that this is a much easier method of communication than mass emails. And I swore I would never succumb to this. Oh well, nobody needs to know. Finally, a forum in which I can publish my innermost thoughts, dreams and musings! I think it's a testament to a) my utter lack of job responsibilities today and b) the rampant narcissism of myself, my dear friends and others like us in the world, that such things like this exist.

So...yeah. My life is pretty tame at the moment - no jet-setting for me. Maybe I'm that solid, sensible pivot around which everyone else turns. Hmmmm....

I had an audition last night...pretty rough. It was in the glorious burb of Arlington Heights (home to Ms. Daley) at the still-new-smelling Metropolis Centre for the Performing Arts. Never read for Steel Magnolias. For Shelby. With a reader doing a very inaccurate dialect Never be absurdly confident in your own ability to do a Southern accent. Never grip the knee of the obviously uncomfortable reader and whisper, with fake tears in your eyes, that you "would rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special." That's acting, bitches.

After the brief hibernation following the smashing ...Forum, I've been going on a couple of random audtions lately, which range from the hilarious to the simply humilating. So far I've received three looks of disbelief, two bizarre callbacks for parts that I don't "read" for, and one pen from Disney productions. And a partridge in a pear tree. I'm not sure I could stomach this for a career.

I'm also taking an extremely strange acting class, held in a very cliche second-floor walk-up studio. It's really a testiment to the awesome power that was the UW Theatre & Drama Department, that I feel like I can't audition for anything until someone finally teaches me how to act.

I would like to draw a map, to show where all my friends are in the world right now. It would be like a quasi-adult version of "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" Which I was never particularly fond of...more of an "Oregon Trail" child, myself. Carmen was boring, and what was with that hat??

Yeah, that was fun. We'll see if I write in this bad boy again. Or tell anyone where it is located. "Where in the world is Laura McClain's sketchy blog?"