Hand Crabs

Got to work with my gloves for the first time tonight. I'm typing with a spoon held between my thumb and first knuckle and enjoying how little it is hindering my typing. Geeb and I should switch to a constant diet of frosting. That way, we won't have to stop writing for something so trivial as eating. Asses be damned. It was nice finally getting to practice with my gloves, as I don't think I can sell my horrible OJ joke without them. Liked those transitions, didn't you? Don't lie. If you lie I'll nibble your elbows.

So Bob and Rowland joined me on stage, and the raunchy jokes ensued. I had a bottle of water on the table, so they started complaining about the rotten service in our little cafe. I explained that they had to know how to sweet talk the waiter and that they should always wear gloves when doing so or risk a nasty case of hand crabs.

You're probably wondering how I still have a role in this production. Me too. I figure it's just a matter of time. Just like death, taxes, and Bob ripping out her eyelashes. She's really going to hamper her criminal career with all that mascara on her fingers. Her fingerprints will be everywhere. Maybe she should start leaving koalas at every scene. The bit to which I'm referring starts at 0:30. Given the time, you should really watch the entire show. It's brilliant. Lookit. I've even pointed you to the first part. You should know, I love Ricky Gervais. That's important information. Important enough to have tattooed on your chin. Be sure to spell it right: Pesh loves Ricky Gervais. I hope you have a strong chin, or that's going to be really crammed on there. You should have it done twice. One normal and one in reverse, so not only can you inform others of this influential fact, but also so you can remind yourself of it every time you look in the mirror. Your days will be better for it. I hear reading it aloud while brushing your teeth will boost your metabolism too.

^___^

Song!

O
o
O

O

^ Bubbles. Lobsterese translation (because I'm kind to my readers who are ignorant of such a prevalent language, even if they do need to read a frickin' book):

"Hi, you've reached Jimmy, if you can dream it, you can do it!"
~Jimmy MacElroy, Blades of Glory

Weirdness...I know, right?

Rehearsal was fun tonight. Rowland and I ran our lines once through then proceeded to help with props, set stuff, and distracting the rest of the cast with conversations about phone etiquette. Sweet little Bob was kind enough to read with Tom, who has miles of monologues to tackle. I, of course, was no help.

My wall clock died at work, so I designed a Kult Pilkington clock in my CafePress shop. I originally had just numbers around the face, but Edy, the artist decided there should be other symbols included. I'm still not sold on it. I rather enjoyed having the numbers in completely random order with a '14' thrown in for good measure. It seems my husband and I don't meet in the middle when it comes to artistic endeavors.

New subject! Watch your step, these topic jumps can be more painful than getting hit by a train. Trust me.

Since my return to the theatre, something has shaken loose in my creative mind. I've started plotting a new novel. Perhaps this will be the story that satisfies Kiriannah (my stage-hog muse of many years), and she will finally leave me alone. I have pages of notes with detail plot outlines that actually form a cohesive storyline. All I have left to do now is tie up one loose end and flesh out the love story, which will probably introduce more loose ends, but I don't mind. The great thing about this project is that it's snapping together like a radioactive Lego monster blasting its way through my writer's constipation. Writer's constipation is much worse than writer's block. I'd rather have no idea at all than several that just won't congeal into something usable. No amount of laxatives helps either. You just spend your day on the seat straining, sweating, screaming for death. At last I have found a cure. Theatre! It goes down smooth and comes out the same way! Buy it now! Not sold in stores, but if you knock on the Geeb's door about eight in the morning, she may have something for you. It'll at least knock your shit loose.

Time to celebrate! My beloved Ricky Gervais is already slated to host next year's Golden Globes ceremony. The awards aren't until January, and they've already booked him. In-fucking-credible. It's achievements like this that have set him so high in my regard.

Time for tuneage! This is one of my favorites. ^_^

I found tonight's quote in an old file tucked away on my flash drive.

"To succeed you have to believe in something with such a passion that it becomes a reality." ~Anita Roddick

Edit: Kick ass! I've never seen more than a clip or two of the video for tonight's song, so I'm greatly pleased to find that it's frickin' weird. I love it when a non-existent plan comes together.

Love Letters For Bob

Tonight's blog goes out to Bob and her woes. She's sixteen and wading through all the dire muck that comes with that age. Her heart is in bloom and venturing into the grand world where all the other hearts frolic, fuse, collide, and brutally stab each other. She'll make it through though. She's super smart, and as soon as her heart catches up with what her brain is already figuring out, she'll be invincible until she consciously chooses to be otherwise. Until then, she'll have to endure the crap that young hearts like to drag themselves through on the quest for that happily ever after that is seldom found and more often fleeting.

Rehearsal was interesting tonight. Our Desdemona had another obligation, so a fellow theatre goofball named JJ, Jayjay, Jay-J, ummm, whatever. So, a fellow theatre goofball filled the fair lady's shoes with disturbing effect. I never thought I'd see a Desdemona scratch her nards and pantomime eating something from her nose, but I'm getting used to such oddities in my corner of the universe. I'll just blame the Geeb.

Anyhoo, to further warp our evening, Paxton got pulled aside to work out some lighting details, so Bob threw herself into the role. Can't say I'd follow her into battle, but she certainly put Iago in his place.

There's nothing like a night of gender-swapping to keep everyone in good humor.

We'll definitely have to get Iago to show off some moobies on Wednesday to keep things awkward. I'll send him some cupcakes tomorrow to help him pack a few more pounds into them. He's really not properly overweight to display a worthy set of moobies. It would be an embarrassment.

Well, now that this blog has achieved sufficient weirdness for one evening, I'll move on to the song that began playing just as Bob and I left the theatre tonight. I'd say it's appropriate.

Bonus track! This one played immediately after the song above. I'm placing a wager that the Geeb will not leave this song playing long enough for it to load. Hell, she may not even open it. Maybe she will. Maybe she'll think the Pesh is jacking with her and will post the link to something truly bad ass. Or maybe she won't. Dost thou dare to click?

Wisdom! (The Pesh does not guarantee that the following wisdom comes from saner minds than hers. Apply with caution. Do not get in eyes. If eyes do come in contact with wisdom, remove them with a spoon. It will hurt less.)

"There'll be two dates on your tombstone,
And all your friends will read 'em,
But all that's gonna matter is that little dash between 'em...."
~Kevin Welch

Morbid, yes? ^_^

Jooiiin Uuuusss...

Rehearsal ran late tonight, but as the show seems to be really coming together, it was worth it. Bob's mom must be killing herself for our costumes. She already had the first round of alterations done on my dress, and with the exception of one section being too tight, they were spot on. Keep in mind that I first tried on the dress at our last rehearsal, Bob was the only one to see me in it, and no measurements were taken. Theresa is an incredible seamstress. Period.

I saw what I think will be the final version of our program. The Geeb is going to smack me. I'm looking forward to it.

If you're wondering what the title of tonight's post has to do with anything I've just written, it doesn't. In an effort to assist Ricky in his quest to bring Karl Pilkington worldwide harassment, I am unveiling a line of Kult Pilkington products to help saturate the world with knowledge of the man with a head like a fucking orange. Wear your t-shirts and thongs proudly, and whenever someone looks at you as if you just evolved from a mermaid, gently sit them down and spread the Word of Karl.

Since I'm in a silly mood tonight--shut up, I do so have other moods--let's hit the Free Love Freeway.

And now for some wisdom:
"Things may come to those who wait, but only things left by those who hustle." ~Abraham Lincoln

Super-Rehearsal-Awesome! Yeah!

EGO ALERT!

You have been warned.

Had a great night at rehearsal. Karen, AKA Desdemona, wasn't feeling well, so it fell upon me to read in her stead. I missed damned near every mark, and poor Paxton seemed to forget once in awhile that I didn't really need to learn the marks, as he started to explain them to me once or twice. I always have a lot of fun at rehearsals, but being able to move around and stretch my stage legs a bit felt great. It was also fun jumping from one platform to run across the stage and leap onto another throughout the night. Roland was even kind enough to tell me I was reading the part very well.

I'm a happy little Pesh this evening.

Despite my glee in reading her part, I hope Karen finds herself completely recovered soon, especially since I'm bound to break my neck sooner rather than later if I keep platform hopping.

I also bought shoes to go with my dress. This too pleases me.

As for tonight's song, let's crank up some eighties gold.

And since I can't have my reader...s wandering aimlessly through life tomorrow, a quote:

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." ~Thomas Edison

EDIT: Just finished actually watching tonight's music video, and I have to ask, "What the hell?" Clearly, the eighties had a huge influence on the stability of my mind, but the gas pump dance is still lost on me. Despite the video, I doubt I will never tire of this song, especially knowing how much the Geeb will love the pink polo. The pink polo haunts her dreams. It's true. Ask her, or better yet, buy her a pink polo to call her own. She'll love you to death for it.

Speedy Blog!

It's already late, so I'm going to ramble quickly. Not that it matters to you. You won't be reading this entry any faster than the others. Oh dear. I seem to have undermined my efforts already. Fuck it then.

I got my dress tonight! When I arrived, the lovely Bob dragged me away to the dressing room to try on a gold and black number her mother found in the loft. It was a little tight in the petticoat and a little loose in the dress, but I'm very pleased with it. I get to buy some shoes now.

On an even more exciting note, the Geeb has her official cover art and page posted on the Samhain Publishing website! E-world, prepare yourself for the greatest novel you have ever read, My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute. That's right. Come June, your mind, and maybe other things, will be blown--or at least tingly with some good laughs. Careful with the laughs though, you don't want to go past tingly and accidentally pee your brain. Not a hazard I recommend risking. Trust me. Once will be enough to learn your lesson for good.

In honor of the Geeb's upcoming romantic comedy, here's a lovely little love song, of which I am quite fond.

And your thought for the day is:

"Even if you are on the right track, you will get run over if you just sit there." ~Will Rogers

New Lines!

Paxton added more lines for some of the cast. I got three and, like a smug little Pesh, I had two memorized in time to hit my cues.

Other than that, I don't have much to report. I'm tired again and snagged a catnap after work, but that's just boring. I suppose all the things I didn't do are much more entertaining than what I did do. For one thing, I didn't hit Geeb in the ear with a shuttlecock. That certainly would have been amusing, had it happened. I'll have to try that sometime.

I found out that Ke$ha has the hots for my dear Ricky Gervais. I'm grossed out. Aside from the fact that Ricky is twenty-six years her senior, she just looks...sticky. The thought of her looking at him makes me want to give him a bath. I'm sure his lifelong girlfriend Jane wouldn't approve if I tried. Heck, I'm sure he wouldn't approve either, but if the opportunity ever presented itself, I certainly would try. What kind of obsessed fangirl would I be if I didn't? A disgraced, obsessed fan girl is what I'd be, and I cannot let my reputation be damaged so easily. What's a night in the pen for an attempted forced bathing charge in comparison to a sullied name? Not much...not much.

Egad, I should delete this entire entry. I'm far too tired to be publishing this. Which will make it all the more fun in the sobering light of a few hours' sleep.

Okay, so let's get down to business. Tonight's song is appropriately nuts. Oooh! Chimpanzee that! (Just ignore the Monkey News reference and enjoy the tune.)

Don't forget the quote! You won't know what to ponder tomorrow if you don't read the quote! You know it's true. You have GOT to quit lying to yourself like this.

"Wherever you go, go with all your heart." ~Confucius

Blocking!

We did our first read through with our basic blocking this evening. I hope I don't miss my mark. I am seated at a cafe before the curtains ever open, and I stay there until the curtains close. I've screwed up simpler things. Just ask the Geeb.

We had a good time tonight. Bob and I continue to freak out over how much we have in common interests. The cast is laughing even more freely at each other's jokes--even mine, no matter how demented they are. I talked about sticking a duck in a microwave this evening. Don't worry, that only came from talking about sticking a duck in the oven and how much the feathers would stink. See? It was a perfectly normal progression of conversation.

...Perfectly. Normal.

You get two songs tonight. One is for Bob, who has never heard of Dave Matthews Band. It's a tragedy that must be corrected. The other is for Geeb, who has never heard "Peaches". For crying out loud, there are ninjas in that video! What is wrong with these women?

EDIT! I had a mental malfunction and mixed up Geeb with Jes. Jes, is the heathen that claims to like rock, yet has not heard "Peaches". Geeb, you're off the hook, for now.

Quote!

"If you have time to whine and complain about something then you have time to do something about it." ~Anthony J D'Angelo

Ah, Rested.

I missed blogging after Thursday's rehearsal due to a lengthy theological debate with my husband. He's Catholic-ish, and I'm a devout atheist. I wasn't in bed until after midnight and had to be at work for a 7:00 a.m. meeting. Thus, I was in bed at 6:00 p.m. on Friday. I stayed there until after 8:30 then headed off for a pile of congealed grease a local fast food chain likes to call "breakfast" with my beloved. It was delicious.

Finally, I am rested.

As for rehearsal, Rowland had other obligations that night, so Bill sat in with Bob and me. We did a read through, but much of the evening was spent listening to some of Bill's fascinating stories. That man has lived. He's seen the world, rubbed shoulders with the likes of Laurence Olivier, and I'm sure something of everything else in between.

After regaling us with a few of his tales, Bill asked me why I had returned to the stage after being away for more than ten years. I told him of my experiences in high school, when I fell in love with the art, the horrors of my college experience, and the puddle of slow death I've been sitting in since. I felt my face burning as I told him, my throat tightening. For me, it's act or die. Even if I never go beyond community theatre, I have to act. So what did Bill do? He paid me one of the greatest compliments I have ever received as an actress. (The letter of recommendation from my high school drama teacher for my college scholarship audition is still right at the top.) Bill said he is directing Same Time, Next Year later in the season, and he said I should audition. Now, this is by no means a promise of a role, far from it. What it does mean, is that Bill sees me as a candidate to be considered, and that is an incredible compliment to me.

As our conversation continued, Bill and I started ranting about some of our pet peeves, his being lack of communication, mine being a lack of punctuality. Bill then stated that his top three priorities are God, family, and work. I smiled and nodded, but he caught the look on my face before I could pull it back. I explained to him that while I agree with family and work being top priorities, I did not belong in The Bible Belt. He looked shocked, and then Bob chimed in.

Did I mention I adore Bob? Because I do. She's like a mini-me with melanin.

So, Bob chimed in with a story about the time she acted in Godspell. She said that during the course of that production, the entire cast came to realize that the only actor who was a Christian, was the one playing Judas. Every other person on that stage was either agnostic or atheist. Ironic much?

So dear little Bob is a non-theist too. Agnostic or atheist, I'm not sure, but I'm almost convinced we were separated at birth, and she was shoved back in to incubate for another thirteen years. She's also a big fan of Sting. This pleases me.

Detour! (I promise, I never write while drunk. That's reserved for reading.) After enjoying our coronary cuisine, Edy and I returned home to watch Gran Torino. Excellent story. Some of the dialogue put me off (not for being offensive by any stretch, just some of it didn't feel natural), but the story was wonderful. At the end of the movie, something caught my eye. I noticed that the actress playing Walt's granddaughter, Ashley, had really wide set eyes....

Could she be?

IMDB to the rescue!

Yes!

Ashley Kowalski was played by Dreama Walker, who played the receptionist in The Invention of Lying starring--you guessed it--Ricky Gervais! Speaking of The Invention of Lying, Jennifer Garner, who also starred in the film, is celebrating her birthday today according to IMDB. You needed to know that. Stop lying to yourself and be thankful for the information.

Now for a song!

Don't forget the quote of the day!

"Vision is not enough; it must be combined with venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps; we must step up the stairs." ~Vaclav Havel

Progress!

I realized this afternoon that as of last night, I have made more blog entries since my return to Theatre than I did in the years spanning 2005-2009. I think this means I'm on the right track. I'm interested in my own existence again. I enjoy writing, I really do, but it's not my passion. It excites me, but it doesn't make my heart sing, more like a jaunty hum. Incidentally, since I've returned to acting, I've had more ideas churning in my head than I've had in a long time. Geeb and I are finding a collaborative dynamic that is going to take us to exciting places creatively, maybe even physically. (If our script gets rejected on the local circuit, I say we film a bit and hop a plane to London. ^_~)

Anyhoo, back to the real topic of tonight's post. Leave it to me to start with a tangent. Okay, back on track! Roland, another narrator for the play, expressed his discomfort with Bob and me wearing knickers if we were to be women. He took it up with Paxton, and together, we convinced him that Bob and I should be presented as men or wear dresses. Thankfully, Roland has been issued a mission to check with the troupe in Lamar for possible dresses, or we may approach the Joplin troupe for some loaners. This pleases me. I don't mind playing a male, but I am a woman, and it would be nice to feel pretty for my comeback show.

Now for your regularly scheduled glimpse into my psyche with a song. Don't stare directly into the psyche, you'll be sorry. And you'll have those green blobs blurring your vision for a few minutes. If you must stare into the psyche, please avoid doing so while driving.

And a closing thought for the day: "If the light in your life has changed to yellow, I recommend you floor it. It's safer than the alternative." ~Will Rogers

(I didn't pick the driving-related quote because of my psyche-related rambling. It was just a happy accident that I noticed when I was half-way through typing the quote. See? I told you I'm on the right track.)

So Tired....

I'm tired, but in a good way. I'm pouring all my reserves, and most of my evening hours into something that I love. I would rather die on stage than rot in living flesh at my desk. Poor Geeb is feeling the hours burn away too. Between working nights and juggling life during the day and heaping in a dose of chronic insomnia, it's a wonder she's not rocking herself in the corner of a padded room. Though, I'm not entirely sure what she does with her off hours....

Both of us are riding waves of creativity. We're working on a collaborative project with the determination to start reaching for something better, perhaps even bigger than sane folks should dare to dream. Sanity has always been a forgone conclusion for us, so why not take the bet? We, like so many living in our town, or any small town for that matter, have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Once again, I am listening to this beautiful piece, but I like to keep things changing, so try this track on for size. (Thanks, Bob, for inspiring tonight's choice with your Cheap Trick t-shirt.)

Tonight's quote comes from The Office, and it is the other half of my top two mantras. I like to spout this one when I'm trying to get my loved ones off their asses. Dawn said, "Tim's advice is that it is better to be at the bottom of a ladder you want to climb than half way up one you don't." Too true.

And since I'm not a properly obsessed fangirl if I don't mention him at least once every couple entries: RICKY GERVAIS!

That is all.

Costumes!

Tonight we listened to some excerpts of various performances of Othello throughout history. One in particular gave everyone goose bumps, which is why I'm convinced that Iago belongs in the top three of everyone's 'Best Villain Ever' list. You know you have such a list. Don't lie. You'll never be as good at it as the characters on the list that you know you have because you're a nerd.

We also spent the majority of the evening trying on costumes from the theatre's stock. I pushed for Bob and me to wear dresses. Bob's a girl. A biological girl, not a post-op girl. She'd be very at home in a dress. Without practice.

Anyhoo, I pushed for us to wear dresses as I'm fairly certain women did not wear pants of any variety in the sixteenth century. Unfortunately, due to a lack of resources, and the strain it would place on our brave seamstress--Bob's mom, and no, she didn't pick the name--we settled for tunics and either knickers or hose. I got a good puffy shirt, and I like my tunic, especially since it seems to have belonged to a bad stripper in its past life.

What? Lewd things make me smile.

This tunic was strange in that it had a pleated skirt attached at the waist, with Velcro. It would be easy enough to remove, but the Velcro runs the circumference of the tunic, and you have to step out of the skirt after all that detaching. It could be done in a lewd manner, but I doubt the tips would be worth the effort. It's a costume that would belong to the stripper waiting in the parking lot to clean your windshield as you try to leave.

How was that for a tangent?

How is this for a song? Yes, it's a song from a video game, but it's both beautiful, strange, and fun for inspiring action scenes. I figure I have strange covered tonight, so let's keep the theme going, shall we?

On a final tangent, I've been putting a lot into my self-motivation lately as I've come to realize how little was handed to me in the formative years of my confidence, quite the opposite actually. I've started collecting quotes that make me want to get off my ass, no matter what the outcome. I've decided that even if I fall down the stairs of my dreams and rip off my face, rupture my tongue, skin my knees, and twist my toenails, it will all be worth it just knowing I tried. I will NOT wake up on my sixtieth birthday and take a double-barrel dose of iron when I realize that the only person who let my dream die was me. Though, if I twist my toenails, I might consider getting comfy with that explosive antidote. Side effects be damned.

Ahem, the quote (this one has become my mantra):
"Chase down your passion like it's the last bus of the night."
~ Terri Guillemets

We Have A Director!

Our director, Paxton Williams, has returned from Illinois to reclaim the helm of our little production. I'm still getting to know him, but he is genuinely committed to the wellbeing of the show, and is totally open to input from the cast. He accepted all my suggested changes to the script, after careful consideration of course; he is after all, in charge.

As a cast, we are continuing to bond, and we are bonding very well. Paxton also shared some news with us tonight. A Shakespeare appreciation group will be attending our show (probably opening night), and has invited the cast to a fete after the show. I'll gloat more as I get more details.

Until then, enjoy a lovely piece. The subject of my current obsession, and my thespian hero, Ricky Gervais used this music in his latest work, Cemetery Junction. It is one of the most beautiful pieces I've ever heard.

Oooh! Bonus track! I had to sing along to this one with the windows down on my way to rehearsal. I think it's written in physics. You cannot remain silent during this track. It is physically impossible. You will rupture a testicle if you try to resist. If you don't personally own a set of testicles, someone else's will rupture. Why would you do that to someone? Sing, dammit! Louder! And don't miss the high note. ^_^

Whew! Plugs galore! No leaks in this entry!

Another Read Through

The cast is really starting to mesh. We spent this evening doing another read through mixed with cutting up and easy laughter. We even started keeping a half-assed tally of missed cues, strictly for harassment purposes of course. Geeb's suggestion to change my character's name from Christobel to MacBeth purely for the sake of me spilling my dessert and shouting, "Out damn spot!" was a hit, but I'm not so sure the director will go for it. I suppose we'll find out Sunday.

And because I heard this on the radio to the joy of one DJ and the dismay of his partner, a song!

Revised Script

We got our newly revised, beefier scripts tonight. No, they were not smeared with hamburger grease. It was turkey broth. The facts are important here if nowhere else, as my idol, Mr. Gervais, is finding in the April 2010 "Week one hundred and thirteen" entry on his blog. You'll find he is quite eloquent in his take on the subject. No one can cuss like the English. Well, I suppose you can, but without the accent, it sounds so...uncouth. Keep fighting the good fight, Ricky.

Wow, that was a tangent. Anyhoo, back on topic. With this rewrite, I now have one of the best lines in the entire play: We only know what we think we know, and we don't know what we don't know. And we may not really know what we think we know.

The line speaks to me on an intimate level of nuts. I love it.

Speaking of nuts...Song!

(What? One might say my taste in music is eclectic. I think eccentric may be more accurate, but overall, I prefer schizophrenic. Or else.)

First Read Through

Not a lot to report. We had our first read through tonight. The cast already seems to be meshing really well. We discussed some possible changes to the script, and the director gave us an idea of how the stage will look. Basic stuff, but it's exciting.

For tonight's musical selection, a number I performed to in Mr. Eden's Theatre high school Theatre class. Each of us had to act out a song of our choosing, but not by acting out what the lyrics said. Make sense? Good.

Role 1

Well, I got the call today. I'm both relieved and a smidge disappointed. I didn't get the female lead, Desdemona, and I'm totally fine with that. As I said, the audition went incredibly well for my first go in over a decade, so I had my hopes and trepidations up. I will be playing Chris, a narrator in this vision of Othello. It is set up like a frame story with me and two others relating the tale to each other while the rest of the cast performs the actual scenes.

It's a great part. I'll probably be on stage for the entire show. My only twinge about it is how it will read on my resume.

"Oh, you were in Othello?"
"Yes."
"Which role?"
"Chris."
"Uh, who?"
"Chris."
"There's no Chris in Othello."
"There was in this version."
"Um, was it a, um, a pornographic version?"
Sigh.

All career paranoia aside, I cannot wait to hit the stage again. Tomorrow is our first read through. The show starts in six weeks, so I expect to lose some ass fat that has become far too familiar with my backside. Yea for insane schedules!

On a final obsessive/stalkerish note, you may have noticed that this is being posted just after midnight. Well, I just watched my hero, Ricky Gervais, sit in for an interview with David Letterman. Nothing like a good laugh before bed. Okay, there are other things, but laughing doesn't make it hard to walk in the morning.

In honor of Shakespeare, here is a beautiful song from Romeo+Juliet. Enjoy!