Nikra Wood

Retirement

2011-02-05T12:54:00.000-06:00

Due to some craziness last summer, I have lost access to my administrative abilities on this blog. I was trying to transfer control of this blog from one profile to another to save it from being hacked, and in the process, managed to end up as an author twice and not an admin at all. Sheesh.

So, I started a new blog! Enjoy!

My Heart Without Shame

Don't You Die On Me!

2010-08-11T11:58:00.003-05:00

Wow, this update is looong overdue.

The curtains closed on Earnest weeks ago. I survived my audition for Oklahoma! and came out with another leading role as Laurey Williams. My precious little Geeb is playing Aunt Eller. Whitney, a childhood friend I've been lucky enough to have returned to my life is playing Gertie Cummins, along with a fabulous selection of players for the rest of the cast.

Wow, this post is lively, so far, isn't it? Damn, I'm tired. So tired. Rehearsals have been running until about 11:00 for the last two nights and there's no relief in sight. I just hope I don't actually fall asleep during "The Surrey with the Fringe on Top" or the Dream Ballet.

I suppose it isn't just rehearsals wearing me thin. Life has become a horse of a different color. Not that I'm one to complain about a good pony show, but--. O_o Never mind.

In the good news category, Edy has returned to his art. He's painting a mural for the lovely folks at Raycliff Manor, and it is looking great. I'm so proud.... *sniffles*

Enough of that weepy crap. *kicks an orphan* That's better.

Becki Gooch, my fabulous director from Earnest is starting her own theatre troupe called Dream Theatre. The outdoor stage is being built at Raycliff Manor as I type this. Don't check my facts on that last bit. I can't say for certain that the guys are actually driving nails at this exact moment. If I'm going to be a liar, I don't want to know. No sense in lying to you if I can't join in on the fun. I like surprises. Sue me.

Anyhoo, Becki has been kind enough to invite Whitney, my dear little Bobbit, and me to be members of the original cast of Dream Theatre in an original production called Dementia Faire. I'll be playing Absinthe. I'll save the rest of the details for later. Got to give you a reason to check back once in awhile. My hit counter appreciates your curiosity...so does my ego.

Umm...on what else shall I drone? Ooh, thanks to Earnest, I have a whole new batch of vict--friends, yeah, friends to stalk...yeah, stalk. Last weekend, I went shopping with Bobbit and her wonderful mother for Dementia Faire costume pieces. I enjoyed some Shake's frozen custard, homemade potato chips, and a trip to the park with Jon, Imma, and their wonderful boys. Then I went with Edy to Raycliff to check out his progress on the mural and got to spend a few minutes with Becki, Earl, Whitney, and Korey.

Oklahoma! is also giving me concern about the size of my backyard and crawlspace. I went to another park with Whitney and some of our cast mates after rehearsal on Friday and had a lovely time lying on a bridge, looking at the stars, talking about everything we should never discuss in public, and feeding ants with our expendable flesh. Good times.

Before I go, pop over to the WSPA website and sign this petition to ban the fur industry in Israel. Why do they need fur? They're too warm over there anyway. Taking fur from animals is just plain old bullying that should be punishable by bad things, like lighting offenders' nose hairs on fire. Yeah, that should do it. So sign the petition. Now. Sign it, or risk becoming a victim of a random, not-associated-with-Duh-Pesh-in-any-way minionosity. You don't want to be a victim of a minionosity. You'll look like the definition of squibbly.

I haven't been able to get this song out of my head since I signed on for Dementia Faire.

Today's quote goes out to everyone who is ready for 2010 to be finished. What a year it's been.

"If you're going through hell, keep going." ~Winston Churchill

NOOO! Why, Grob, why?

2010-06-26T23:04:00.005-05:00

Duh Pesh is sad tonight. A little. Okay, I may be playing it up for dramatics, but I am dismayed to say that tomorrow is the last performance of The Importance of Being Earnest. I expect to be bawling with every nail I pull as we strike the set. I love this play. I love the set, the costumes, the script, and most of all, the cast. I adore this cast. I've made some genuine friends and gained some great mentors. I never want it to end, but as all good things seem to do (Why doesn't anyone say that all bad things must come to an end? I guess this thought too, shall pass.) my time working with these wonderful people must stop, for now. It's almost time to move on to a new production. Boo.

I'll be auditioning for Oklahoma! starting Monday night. I need to prepare a piece for the singing portion. I'm thinking maybe "Somewhere That's Green". It would be great to play Laurey, a lead is always fun, but I think I'm going to hope for the part of Ado Annie. I love a good ding-a-ling. As always though, I'll be happy with any part, just as long as I get to participate.

And now on to news of pants-wetting caliber. My husband and I are going to Chicago for my birthday at the end of September. Guess what we're going to do there? I told you to guess, dammit! What the hell? Why would you think we'd be going there to do that? What's wrong with your mind? Oh yeah. I forgot you're reading this blog. Disregard that last question.

Ahem.

We're going to see Ricky Gervais perform live at The Chicago Theatre! Yea!

If you have any leftover confetti from the 50th Post Extravaganza, now would be the time to throw it around and choke on it. If not, just throw the razorblades around the room with gleeful enthusiasm.

I said gleeful. Do it right.

That's better. If you're not bleeding, it's not a party. Why do you think they cover cakes in frosting? See? Never doubt my logic. It could save your grandmother someday.

Anyhoo, this will be Ricky's first time performing in "the middle bit" of America (see his "Out of England" show for the reference). Our seats are in the fifteenth row, two sections house right from center. Ass will be thoroughly kicked. Thoroughly. Kicked.

Tonight's song and quote are dedicated to everyone who worked so hard to make Earnest such a fantastic show and an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life. Thank you.

And for tonight's quote you get not one, but two! That's right! Double the wisdom in only half the blogging! Yea!

"I would thank you from the bottom of my heart, but for you my heart has no bottom." ~Author Unknown

"I feel a very unusual sensation - if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude." ~Benjamin Disraeli

I love you all. Truly.

Pesh's 50th Post Extravaganza!

2010-06-20T11:16:00.014-05:00

Go on, get some confetti. I'll wait.

...

...

You ready? You didn't bother, did you? What kind of party will this be if no one is throwing confetti in the air, getting it in each other's eyes, drinks, keyboards, air passages...hair? This won't be a party at all. It will just be another blog post. It won't matter that this is my fiftieth post. It will make no difference in the fate of the universe. There will be one less rush of endorphins, one less ray of light to make an orphan smile. What? Didn't you know that? Every time someone chokes on confetti at a 50th blog post extravaganza, an orphan gets to smile. They're not allowed to otherwise. Some sort of union regulation....

Ah, fuck it.

On to even more exciting things! Well, I think they're at least worthy of wet pants. The Importance of Being Earnest opened Thursday night and is having a fantastic run. The audiences are rolling in their seats, which could be delightfully dangerous, as this is a dinner theatre, and laughing too hard after a meal might serve to present dinner as a sequel. Ew.

The crowds laugh at the jokes. They "ooh" at the cat fight between Cecily and Gwendolen a la "Oh, no she di'nt!" They "ooh" and "ah" at the set change when we go from a plain black curtain behind our phenomenal pipe organ to an elaborate garden with metal columns, mechanical gizmos and lights on the walls, and an airship that floats by throughout the second act. Seriously, even if the acting wasn't superb and the script hilarious, the set alone is worth buying a ticket to bask in its glory.

In addition to all these wonderful elements congealing to make this one of the most incredible projects in which I've ever had the privilege of participating, last night was particularly rewarding for me. My mother, aunt, and grandparents attended last night, and so did my favorite elevator repairman, Karl (who I love to torture with threats of doughnut-based elevator sabotage). My darling husband, my favorite brother-in-law, and our close friend, Asian Dave, volunteered their time as servers. So, I had many of my beloved family and friends present, which always generates warm fuzzies.

On top of having a great audience, I knocked my performance out of the park. My hubby, his brother, and Asian Dave said I stole the show. True or not, having those three think so does wonderful things for my confidence as an actress. I did notice, however, that all of my jokes got laughs. I love having to wait for the audience to settle its guffaws enough to deliver my next line. It's a rush, a hell of a rush.

One of the audience members, who sounded like someone who knows his theatre stuff (you know, one of those professor-type fellows), approached me during our post-show meet-and-greet, and told me that I had given the best performance he had ever seen of my role. He said it was exactly as crisp as it should be. It made me want to cry. Tears of joy, of course. I like sincere, educated-sounding compliments. They're quite lovely when they wrap around the heart and squeeze.

Dim the lights and cue the violins, Duh Pesh is about to all serious and stuff.

Becki, thank you so much for letting me be a part of this show. This experience has done amazing things for my confidence, my skills, and my collection of people I love to call friends. You're an incredible director, and I will forever jump at the chance to work with you again.

I love the theatre. Fuckin' A.

Oh! Last week was Bob's seventeenth birthday. So, if you've finally gotten off your ass to shred a valuable document into confetti, as you know you should have (cheap confetti has no place at this party, car titles be damned), then now would be a good time to send it skyward and commence the choking, and the spitting, and the crying, and the screaming. Lots of screaming. If you're not screaming, consider adding razorblades to the next batch. The spastic dodging will make you look like a one-dork party, and all the hot singles love joining a one-dork party.

And now for the most fucked up music video ever to grace my blog. It's weirder than "Rock Lobster". Not kidding. You love the song though. You know you do. Enjoy!

Quote!

"Success is getting what you want; happiness is wanting what you get." ~Author Unknown

Bonus material!

Here are some of the publicity spots floating around the webs for Earnest.

Tom Steere as Algernon
Globe/T. Rob Brown Tom Steere, as Algernon Moncrief, rests at a steam-powered piano Wednesday during a rehearsal for "The Importance of Being Earnest." Crew rescued an old piano and equipped it with steampunk-themed elements for use on the set. Globe/T. Rob Brown

The Joplin Globe Article - June 11, 2010

Link to KOAM video.

Aren't they fabulous? I love my cast mates. Ah, warm squibblies. ^_^

I Is So Excited!

2010-06-04T22:15:00.007-05:00

^___^

My costume for act two has evolved from a vague idea to full-blown awesome. My skirt is under construction to convert from ankle-length to a short-in-front and long-in-back number. I have a red waist coat with black velvet "filigree" covering it. I get to wear fishnet wrist gloves and thigh-highs. I have a beautiful red and black satin breath-inhibiting corset. And the icing on this multi-tiered, pudding-filled cake? I will be wearing my stiletto heels. These are not just any stiletto heels, mind you. These are the very heels that I wore in my first ever lead role as Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors. This pleases me immensely. Immensely.

Imma described my new look as very Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge!. Need I say how elated I was to hear that? I didn't think so.

Random tangent! This afternoon, as I was about to take my adorable panda mug to the break room to scour away the remnants of my PG Tips, my Security buddy, Travis, stepped around the door frame and nearly collided with me. We stopped to chuckle at the near miss. I grinned, held up my mug and informed him that I needed to wash my dirty panda. We laughed with great enthusiasm and decided that a dirty panda is something you can probably buy on a dark corner for ten bucks.

In addition to all this awesomeness, I got to make some creative contributions to my costume tonight. Becki was lamenting over our lack of a parasol, which I need for an exchange with Bob's lovely portrayal of Cecily. As Imma cinched away my will to live in the oh-so-sexy corset, the solution slammed into my head like a hooker taking a Dirty Panda. I remembered a relic of my youth tucked away in my garage. I took riding lessons as a girl...I mean, when I was young. I've always been a girl. Well, a female anyway. I think I'm generally considered a woman now. I own a riding crop. Who the hell needs a parasol when you have a fucking riding crop? I think I just might pee where I sit if I think about it much longer.

Let's add another layer of happy, shall we?

Another of my props is a lorgnette. Becki and Earl have constructed a very steam punk contraption out of toilet paper tubes and some wire. There are two thick wires that extend from the bottom then curve up to frame my face as I look through the tubes. I posed a possibility to Becki and Earl, and the response was delightful. I asked, "What if we actually mount the lorgnette to my arm?" Awesome. Now, my hands will be free for my purse, my flowers, and my riding crop. And it's extremely steam punk to have such mechanical wonders utilized so casually.

Dave is definitely going to have to burn this chair by the time I finish tonight's blog.

Let's throw some road flares on top of this cakegasm! Because candles will never do in glee of this magnitude.

Edy and I went to our favorite haunt, Taiwan Buffet II, to harass the lovely Carissia and enjoy some good ol' grub. Not grubs. That would be gross. I meant food. People food. Not food made of people. Food made for people. ...Moving on.

When we arrived, Mary, the owner's daughter quickly introduced us to the fish inhabiting a new aquarium next to the register. Edy gave a quick acknowledgment then moved on to the food. I stayed and learned all the little guys' names, making sure to pronounce them properly. I'd hate to insult my new hosts. They might blow bubbles at my food. Anyhoo, after learning the identities of the fish, one little fellow remained. When I asked what his name was, Mary cheerfully replaced, "I want you to name him!" Aaaw! The Pesh is loved! Publicly even! The name came to me instantly. It was too obvious not to blurt it out.

His name is Karl. Karl with a 'K'. He's got a stripe of fucking orange.

I hope he's at least half as amusing for the restaurant's customers as the man with a head like a fucking orange, Karl Pilkington, is for me.

That's it. Dave's chair is done for.

A sexy song!

"Ideals are like stars; you will not succeed in touching them with your hands. But like the seafaring man on the desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them you will reach your destiny." ~Carl Schurz, address, Faneuil Hall, Boston, 1859

It's Blo-og! Blo-og! It's Big! It's Heavy! It's Wood.

2010-06-03T21:43:00.004-05:00

Whee! Rehearsals are progressing fantastically! I’m off book for act one and I’m nearly there for act two. Every night lets us develop our characters with bigger personalities and more innovative interactions. My Gwendolen Fairfax has evolved from a proper lady to a bawdy tart.

This pleases me...immensely.

It’s exhilarating to be able to really cut loose on stage and throw caution off a freeway overpass for the sake of the audience’s pleasure. Not that kind of pleasure. There are no poles on the stage. Well, okay. There are four poles on the stage, but they’re way too big to wrap my legs around to slide down them in a manner that garners tips. There’s just no point in trying.

Our fantastic director, Becki, has a fabulous mind. Tonight, she choreographed our scene change. It involves a whistle and a bike. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

Moving on!

I have two topics to discuss with you that affect all that is right and good on a global scale.

First, my hero, Ricky Gervais, is leading a campaign with the WSPA to bring about a ban on bullfighting in the Catalonia region of Spain. Please, take a moment to add your name to the petition and join this noble cause to end this cruel atrocity. Tradition and culture are not excuses for cruelty of any kind.

While you’re visiting the WSPA signing the petition, as you are doing right now, because you are my minion, and I have commanded you to it, toss a few bucks into the donation page. Look at your happy, loving, pet opossum--or cat, rabbit, mule, whatever--you would spend twenty-five bucks to keep him/her/it healthy and happy, wouldn’t you? You probably have, unless you buy cheap kibble. Tightwad. But your pet is already healthy and happy, right? So there you are with twenty-five dollars burning a hole in your pocket and no tragedy to avert. What to do...?

I have an idea! Send it to the WSPA! It would please me so. You like to please me, don’t you? Don't you?

Well, if not, you should do it to please a fellow earth-dweller in need. In turn, it will give you warm squibbly feelings, and everyone likes warm squibblies. Yes, you do.

Next topic!

Again, my hero, Ricky Gervais, has flexed his will, and I am bowing to it. A few days ago, he wrote:

“A Call To Arms.

I've had another one of my great ideas. Remember the poster campaign? Remember me trying to get Karl on TV?

OK, now listen carefully. I love the fact that Pilkophiles have been leaving random quotes and messages on You Tube. I like it for many reasons. I love it confusing people that went there to discuss Bruce Springsteen or God or something. I love it annoying the haters. But most of all I love the fact that it makes Karl uncomfortable.

Let's up the stakes. I want quotes and comments on every You Tube video, every iTunes product, every Amazon product and every blog in the universe.
And Twitter. Ah twitter... Go fucking mental. Introduce everyone to the world of the man with a head like a fucking orange. Make it the twatosphere, i.e. the space where people talk about a spherical headed twat.

It's in your hands...

Will he be working in B&Q in 5 years or ruling the world?”

I vote for ruling the world.

In an effort to help with this magnificent endeavor, I am obeying Ricky’s most recent order to see that the following pictures of Karl Pilkington and his feline lookalike are spread to every computer in the universe. Enjoy.

And now for a song!

And now for a less silly song! My internet at home is still kaput, so this tune was selected in honor of Dave, for letting me hijack his 'puter. ^_^

Tonight’s quote was found in a quest for a nugget of thought to pay proper tribute to the wonderful memories I’m collecting at rehearsals and the joy that Ricky and Karl (and Stephen) bring me on a daily basis. I don’t think I found what I was looking for, but this quote is dirty. And it pleases me.

“Laughter is an orgasm triggered by the intercourse of sense and nonsense.” ~Author Unknown

Ah, bliss. Now sign that petition! And start spreading the word of Karl! Now!

The Joy of Corpsing

2010-05-27T22:12:00.005-05:00

Pardon my absence. Our internet is experiencing technical difficulties. I'm writing this at a friend's house at the moment.

So let me take a moment to sum up my week thus far. Monday, I was flashed on the freeway on my way home, so I hit the offender with my SUV. Splattered his butt all over my windshield. It left a lovely green bioluminescent smear, as fireflies do. Grob rest his little corpse.

What?

What did you think I was talking about?

Moving on!

Um...Tuesday was canceled for lack of interest. At least, that is what the koalas told me to say.

Wednesday...happened. Methinks my days are becoming one big blur.

Thursday. Today? Yup! Today. I corpsed. I corpsed hard.

As I stood on stage next to my character's love interest, Jon, he warned me that he would be using his "stalker" face during our scene. I only asked that he not say anything about fava beans and a nice Chianti. He quickly supplied the line in one of the creepiest renditions I've ever heard then said, "Clarice," with an equally creepy approach. All I could think of was my buddy Dave's former cat. I'll leave that one for you to ponder. Because I'm a Pesh like that.

During another moment of hilarity, we encountered a bit of awkward blocking, and Jon supplied a bit of bawdy shtick to correct it. At one point, I sit next to Jon on a sofa. As I go to sit, I bend over to brush off the seat, and present my bum to him. Jon's improve for our community theatre production to be presented to legions of elderly patrons? An awkward crossing of his legs. A very awkward crossing of his legs.

Fast forward!

In another scene, Jack has just proposed to Gwyndolen, and while he is still kneeling, I sit on a stool in front of him. My mother charges in and demands that he stand. I admonish her and pull Jon back down to his knees, but our director is having us take things a bit further. I also pull his face into my lap. In our first attempt at this blocking, I grabbed him by the shoulder. He dropped to his knee then slammed his face in my lap. It was fantastically awkward, so we were already laughing. When he affirmed that he was uninjured with a face-full of my lap, we howled. Subsequently, my lines were barked out between brays. I was semi-worthless for the rest of the scene, and somehow, it pleased me.

Add to that a dirty, dirty note from the gal playing a servant delivered on a platter to my dear Bob that took forever and a day to read, and the night was officially a bonding experience for this cast. You should have heard the laughter when Fox, the servant, struggled to get through some curtains while carrying a huge stack of luggage then failed and landed on her bum in a pile of suitcases and hatboxes. What a fantastic rehearsal.

After rehearsal, Bob and I took a moment to ponder why the world decided that while women are desired with an hourglass figure through the ribs, waist, and hips, no one has mentioned that men are desired with an hourglass figure as well, in profile. And that thought calls for a song! Pay attention to the scene about the hat. Could they really not afford any fishing line? They're English. I know that island has a few fishing supplies lying around somewhere.

An end to the stupidity...for now.

"Drag your thoughts away from your troubles... by the ears, by the heels, or any other way you can manage it." ~Mark Twain

Ciao, Othello!

2010-05-23T21:44:00.004-05:00

Well, the final performance of Othello ran today. The set is struck. The curtains are down. Well, not literally. The curtains are a pain to move, so they stay open all the time, but you know what I mean.

We ended the run with a great performance. I'm feeling particularly chuffed.

(Ooh! I just Googled "chuffed" to make sure I wasn't confusing it with something horrible and I came across this dandy site. Totally bookmarking that one.)

Ahem, back to being chuffed. I managed to start dropping tears when Othello murdered Desdemona. They always do that struggle so well. Karen's face turns red. The veins in her neck strain over her throat. It's brutal, powerful. By the time poor Emilia joined her lady, I had the tap totally open. Rowland handed me his emergency handkerchief that he's had in his pocket through every show in case of facial fluid emergencies that warrant absorption because a Kleenex would be a bit out of place. What a mistake that turned out to be. By the time we left the stage, the edges of his white handkerchief were smeared with black mascara. I hope it washes out.

After the show, we struck the set and painted the floor black. Poor Geeb. All her hard work was torn apart and painted over in a few brief hours. Oh well, now she can start over for The Importance of Being Earnest. And after that is all said and done, I will yet again have opportunity to publicly humiliate her with a gift buried in pink tissue paper. Yea!

Tonight, as we discussed some of our game plan with our new director, Bob asked Becki what kind of music we will use for Earnest. She said it will be steam punk, of course. One of the bands she has in mind is Abney Park. I have to say, I like them. You should give them a listen too. This show is going to be incredible. How I am lucky enough to be involved, I'll never understand.

Tonight's quote isn't as strong as I prefer them to be, but after reading it, how the heck could I not use it?

"If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say, in a pleasant and hopeful voice, "Well, this isn't too bad. I don't have my left arm anymore, but at least nobody will ever ask me whether I am right-handed or left-handed," but most of us would say something more along the lines of "Aaaaah! My arm! My arm!"" ~Lemony Snicket

I'm reminded of a conversation I had with Bob and Rowland tonight. Our lines mention Desdemona's mother (we had Brabantia, not Branbantio in this production) dying of a broken heart. For reasons I never question, I could not help picturing poor little Carole lying in a mangle heap at the bottom of a tall staircase with inspectors standing over her, shaking their heads.

"She's dead."

"Yup."

"What do you think caused it?"

"Well, judging from the height of the stairs and the unnatural angle of her neck, I'd say she broke her heart."

Good Grob I'm weird. Just the way I like it.

Night of the Pesh

2010-05-23T00:38:00.001-05:00

Talk about a total turnaround. I didn't drop any lines tonight. Thank Grob. And to ice that cake, I managed tears. Real tears. No, I didn't cut myself on the aforementioned icing.

I sat there watching Othello strangling Desdemona, and the usual frog crept into my throat and made my eyes water. And then, Iago stabbed Emilia. The audience gasped. Emilia fell. As she bade her tearful farewell to life, I wept for her. I wept for the innocent servant that so unwittingly ushered her mistress to her fate, and died to bring the tragedy to justice. The first tear slipped slowly down my cheek, gathered at my jaw, then fell away, right into my cleavage. What little I have. The second tear fell to my jaw as well, but it mostly served to help smear my makeup later.

Edy finally got to meet Bob and Tom. He even mused about how he should have helped out with painting the set. I will continue to nudge him toward helping with Earnest.

Last night, Edy and I watched a few episodes of The Office. One episode rendered our brains useless with the application of a little tune from The Muppet Show. To my great amusement, Edy admitted to me that during one of Othello's rants about Desdemona's missing handkerchief, the only thing he could think was, "The handkerchief! (ba dee bedebe) The handkerchief! (ba debe dee) The handkerchief! (ba dee bedebe badebe badebe dee dee de-de de-de-de)"

Oddly enough, he thought the same thing when Desdemona shouted, "I'm not a whore!"

That's my man.

I suppose one could say I like the unique ones.

And if you haven't made enough trips to YouTube for the night, here's a link to a song.

And now for a thought. I know, right?

"You must have control of the authorship of your own destiny. The pen that writes your life story must be held in your own hand." ~Irene C. Kassorla

Dropped Like a Lead Brick

2010-05-22T15:19:00.007-05:00

I started off last night's show with a bang. Unfortunately, the bang was the sound of me dropping my line through the bowels of the stage. Oh well, as I said, it's live theatre; crap happens. The bad part is that it happened with my grandmother and aunt sitting in the front row, and two of my bosses, Jes, and one boss's wife in the audience. Hey, if I'm going to make a spectacle of myself, it will be done spectacularly.

In brighter news, I have pants! And a teapot! And a great big teacup! No more slurping boiling tea from bare hands over a naked lap for Pesh! No, sir! This pleases me.

Yes, my shopping endeavors were successful and then some. After having lunch at Taiwan Buffet II, minus Carissia, the little absentee stinker, Edy and I headed to the Movie Gallery. Apparently, the entire chain is closing nationwide, so they're selling all their stock. It's still far too overpriced. Fifteen bucks for a used DVD? I don't think so.

So, we didn't buy anything, but the stop was fruitful nonetheless. I saw two of the most brilliant things I have ever seen. Ever. Upon turning a corner, Edy happened to look at a waist-level shelf and spouted, "Ooh! Porn!" That's right, Edy found a copy of Naked Ambition sitting at the end of the shelf. I looked down, and what did I see at the opposite end of that very same shelf not more than three feet off the ground? None other than My Little Pony: Twinkle Wish Adventure!

And that's not all!

The crown jewel of this journey came in the form of Dead Clowns. Oh, yes.

Take a moment to note the reviews on the cover. "Lots of gore." "Gory zombie flick." "One of the most effective indie horror films I have seen in years." These riveting opinions had me giggling even more than the title and cover. Then, I read the back blurb. And damn near peed my pants in public. Again. But we won't talk about the other time...s.

Ahem.

"As a hurricane approaches the small coastal town of Port Emmett, an innocent group of residents are visited by an unspeakable horror. Fifty years ago a bridge collapsed in the small town, plunging a circus train into the dark water below. The clown car was never recovered. Tonight the zombie clowns emerge from the bay to exact revenge on the descendants of those who left them buried under the silt and mud for half a century."

First off, why are the residents innocent? Do they not have lives? Do they never leave their houses? Have they never cussed, masturbated, rested their elbows on tables? If these residents are innocent, how does that set them up for the comeuppance that is a car's worth of zombie clowns? What lesson must they learn? Spit on the sidewalk more often? It's just not fair!

And why fifty years? Doesn't that seem a bit long for the typical zombie gestational period? If it were a curse, isn't one hundred years the usual standard? Do clowns always wear their costumes and makeup while the show is traveling? Do clowns always ride in the car when they're on the train? How often do drowning victims come back as zombies? What the hell is this town adding to their silt that it can reanimate corpses after fifty years? Are the residents really so innocent?

"You kids stop peeing in that water! You'll turn the silt into a bio hazard!"

"But, Ma, we swim in there all the time, and we ain't never got sick."

"Yeah, but you ain't no corpses. If you'ns were dead and stuck in that silt for fifty years...well, I don't want to imagine what would happen. Now, put yer peckers away!"

As for the hurricane, why? Just...why?

Duh Pesh is back on form me thinks.

I also bought a birthday card with a booby joke for a fifteen-year-old today. All is right in the world.

And now for the song that was my husband's favorite when we first met. How the years have gone by...thank goodness.

And now for smartly bits.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." ~Ambrose Redmoon

Spot of Tea, Love?

2010-05-20T22:32:00.004-05:00

Ah, I love a proper cup of tea. My PG Tips arrived today, and I'm looking forward to firing up my electric kettle tomorrow. I had to use the microwave tonight, so I'm holding my opinion of this brew until tomorrow. I may continue to hold my opinion until I get a teapot and can stop screwing around with brewing in the cup. I love a strong cup of tea, but I've read that letting the tea brew for too long makes the tea release tannin, which makes it bitterer than it should be.

I will master this art. Oh yes, I will master this art.

For those of you who are remotely curious, I purchased my PG Tips at English Tea Store. I placed my order on May 15 and received it today through Fed Ex. Five days. Can't complain there. The price was also right. A box of 240 pyramid bags cost me $20.49 plus shipping. That's just under nine cents a bag. Even Walmart can't beat that.

Heh, look at me going on about teabags.

The Pesh is a bawdy girl. Teehee!

Tonight's song comes from Men at Work. I'm a fan of all their hits, but this is the one that likes to settle into my mental cogs.

Quote!

"Defeat is not the worst of failures. Not to have tried is the true failure." ~George Edward Woodberry

Bob's Bearded Iris

2010-05-19T21:38:00.004-05:00

I love my cast mates. We're only on our fourth rehearsal, and we're already working in phallic euphemisms. I'm sure Oscar Wilde wouldn't mind.

It's back to Othello tomorrow. Got to get warmed up for our performance on Friday. Two of my bosses are attending, and I don't want to lose my job over their embarrassment for knowing me. Okay, maybe I wouldn't lose my job, but they might confiscate my stapler, and that would displease me.

Now for a tune from my childhood. I've never seen the video's opening sequence before tonight, and now I understand why. How did Keanu keep getting work? Good thing he did. Loved Constantine. (Aw, lookit, Geeb! A plug for the first night we met in the real world. Can you believe that was more than five years ago? February 18, 2005...the day will live forever in infamy. Move over March 15. [Lookit! Pesh made a brainy joke! Ouch! {This is in brackets only to add to the pile. Ta-daa!}]).

Oooh! It's thundery outside! Not that it's ever thundery inside--except when my dear husband has indigestion. My poor husband.

Random quote! Go!

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them." ~G.B. Shaw, Mrs. Warren's Profession, 1893

Edit: Ricky Gervais. That is all.

Blocking Round Two

2010-05-18T21:44:00.005-05:00

We blocked another scene and a half-ish tonight. Tomorrow, Cecily-Bob and I will block our throw down over who is marrying Ernest. It should be great fun. If not, I'll plant a few koalas and head for the border. Better head north though. Poor Bob, if she goes with me, they'll throw her in a crate to be mailed to the Philippines if they catch her in Arizona. Of course, the flashing neon sign on top of the car pointing at her from five different angles that reads "ASIAN" won't help her case.

And since I'm tired and staring down the possible barrel of a full night's sleep, it's time for a song. (Edit: Apparently, this video is rated TV PG. Bob, don't try watch this on a TV or you'll have to get parental guidance. And be careful, the video itself is worse than that joke.) I love this tune for all the obvious girlie reasons. It also played on the radio while I was stuck behind a wannabe driver going forty-five ALL THE WAY down HH on my way to rehearsal. Joy!

Tonight's quote was chosen in response to some thorns of jealousy that seem to be penetrating the garden of my life. I hope these thorns wither soon and let friendships old and new take full blossom in their stead.

Ooh, the Pesh is deep. What's that smell?

"Jealousy is simply and clearly the fear that you do not have value. Jealousy scans for evidence to prove the point - that others will be preferred and rewarded more than you. There is only one alternative - self-value. If you cannot love yourself, you will not believe that you are loved. You will always think it's a mistake or luck. Take your eyes off others and turn the scanner within. Find the seeds of your jealousy, clear the old voices and experiences. Put all the energy into building your personal and emotional security. Then you will be the one others envy, and you can remember the pain and reach out to them." ~Jennifer James

Flaming Koala Bombs

2010-05-17T22:00:00.005-05:00

Don't leave home without them.

Don't ask either.

Tonight, we worked out our blocking for the first two scenes of Act 1 for Earnest. Poor Jon. His face is going to be positively mangled by the time I'm done pawing at him for the next month. I also have a feeling that we're going to end up with broken noses and missing teeth with all the dramatic withdrawals and sudden embraces we have to navigate. It's rather difficult while holding our script binders, but no worries, once the scripts are out of the way, I'm certain his front teeth will be embedded in my skull. I've got skills like that. Oh, yeah.

Geeb is holding strong at number nine on the My Bookstore & More top ten books list. Apparently, she spent some time at number eight today, but I think she's full of crap. She's only saying it to tease me. Hell, she's only sitting at number nine to annoy me. She needs to get off her ass and scoot on up to number one. I've read the book. There's no excuse for it not to be number one. Geeb just doesn't want to climb those last eight slots. She's already beat out all but eight of the books available at that store out of thirty-frickin'-two publishers. She just refuses to move. She probably thinks it would look pretentious, what with My Gigolo being her first published novel and all. Lazy.

Well, this day is going down excessively well. Geeb had a blip in the number eight slot, got to know my new cast mates a little better, proofread Bob's report on Peter Pan and Lord of the Flies, invented a new koala-related weapon, got home from rehearsal before nine, and now, to ice this towering cakey goodness of a day, I'm about to watch my hero, Ricky Gervais do an interview on Leno.

Isn't he adorable?

I love this song.

You should nod sagely whilst reading this next bit. ...Nod dammit!

"The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground." ~Author Unknown

EEEEeeee!

2010-05-16T22:18:00.003-05:00

Oh, look! My tea is on.

Ahem, I'm so excited! Asses are being kicked all around! We have a fantastic ensemble for The Importance of Being Earnest. Our director, Becki, is hitting the ground running with a solid plan and a schedule in place. The set is going to be amazing. The costumes will be works of art. Everything about this production excites me enough to wet my pants...in public...openly. Hmm...that could be damaging to future roles. Maybe I'll just wet Geeb's pants instead. Yup. Sounds like a plan.

Speaking of Geeb, you know that little ol' novel she wrote that was released on the e-book market Tuesday? Well, it seems to be catching some attention by credit card owners. That little darling of a rom com, better known as My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute, has not only broken into the My Bookstore & More top ten list, but it has also risen to number nine! Now, number nine might not seem like a glorious number when it comes to top ten lists, but one must keep in mind that My Bookstore & More distributes books for not merely Geeb's publisher (Samhain Publishing) but also thirty-one other publishing houses. That means Geeb's book is number nine out of thirty-frickin'-two publishers' worth of books! Thirty-frickin'-two!

Personally, I'd be throwing a real fit of elation if it had been out of thirty-frickin'-three, but you can't win them all, can you?

Yes, this week has been a good week, and it has ended on an excellent night. I can only hope that tomorrow starts another round of greatness.

Ah, my tea is now at a drinkable temperature. I'm looking forward to trying out my new electric kettle at work tomorrow. I hope it passes the Life Safety Code, especially in my hands.

I love tea. I try to take it as it should be taken with all the rituals deemed necessary by the British. Boil the water. Pour it over the tea. Steep it without dunking the bag about. Add milk and one sugar at most. Mmm, a fine cuppa.

With that note, let's move from all the sophistication of tea, theatre, and smutty novels to much higher octaves.

Food for thought. That'll be one penny. Just leave it in a jar with my picture on it. I have them stationed on convenience store counters across the country.

"Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain." ~Author Unknown

Brokeback Casio

2010-05-15T23:29:00.004-05:00

We played to a full house tonight, and what a crowd it was. They were sharp. They didn't miss a beat. They laughed at all the jokes and then some. One of those extra fits of laughter nearly did me in as well. Poor Tom is playing Iago, and in his effort to make Othello doubt Desdemona's fidelity, he weaves a lie that goes as follows:

I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,
Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:
One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say 'Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;'
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry 'O sweet creature!' and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and then
Cried 'Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!'

The audience, being of a sound and dirty mind, busted a gut. It was all I could do not to join them. Talk about a good time. Poor, poor Tom. He's an innocent bystander in this chaos, but he's good for a laugh, much like the holy round one, Karl.

For tonight's song, I'm having trouble choosing between two tracks by Gorillaz. So guess what? I won't! Enjoy! And enjoy some more!

And now for your nightly wisdom.

"Consider the postage stamp: its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there." ~Josh Billings

Seconds? Yes please!

2010-05-14T23:06:00.004-05:00

Performance number two went even better than opening night. Again, there were little hiccups throughout, but the audience never noticed. The jokes gained more laughter. The intermission and ending collected more applause. Our guests had even more words of praise for our efforts after we left the stage. Tonight was a good night.

And now, slumber sweet and evermore fleeting beckons. Will I sleep in? Doubtful. I have it on the agenda to visit my grandmother to tell her of my next role and spend a few minutes gossiping with her in honor of Mother's Day. What? Don't give me that look. I'm not so ebil as to not visit my grandmother on Mother's Day. I'll have you know I stopped by her house last weekend, but she wasn't home. She'll vouch for me...this time. I hope.

After visiting grandma, I'll join my poor neglected husband for lunch at our favorite haunt, Taiwan Buffet II. It's like eating at a sequel, but it's not. ^__^

Song!

Quote!

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy." ~George Bernard Shaw

Opening Night!

2010-05-13T23:45:00.004-05:00

Watch your head, it's raining lines and they're dropping hard! ^__^

I just got home from our fantabulous opening performance of Othello. Yes, lines were dropped here and there, but like any cohesive team, we kept the rhythm going and the story moved along with no noticeable hiccups. It was a great night, and I'm very proud to be a part of it. I've met a group of wonderful people by joining this troupe, and the only thing I regret is not joining them sooner.

Song! See, Bob? I told you he was a lanky guy with dark hair.

Quote!

"Always bear in mind that your own resolution to success is more important than any other one thing." ~Abraham Lincoln

And before I forget, I have another item of proof that I've mutated obsession into a new species. When I got home from the play, I realized that tonight is May 13, and as I was on stage performing Othello, Ricky was on stage performing in Madison Square Garden. Yes, I am a nerd to the utmost degree. Just be glad it's me and not you, but if you must gawk at me so, at least find a place at the zoo to keep me. I'd love to live mortgage-free. They'd feed me there too, wouldn't they? Hmm...I wonder how often I could fling things at tourists through my bars. This will keep me up tonight.

Last Rehearsal...Sort Of.

2010-05-13T11:29:00.002-05:00

Well, last night we had our last rehearsal for Othello. It went very well considering how many bumps we encountered the night before. Some of us stayed late to polish a few iffy scenes and do the final touches on set painting.

Poor Geeb. She called in sick to work, then came to finish the set. She wasn't playing hooky mind you, she really was sick, and not just in the head this time. Okay, so it was just in her head, but that's only because she doesn't have sinuses in her glutes. There are other sick things in her head too, but it was the sinuses that were throwing a tantrum last night.

Well, I'm off to drill my lines for a bit, so I can promptly forget them when the curtain opens.

Until next time, listen to a tune. And I do mean until next time. Just keep hitting replay. I'll be sending around minions armed with cat toys to see that you do.

Guess what. Yup! Time for a quote! You're good. No, seriously.

"There is only one success - to be able to spend your life in your own way." ~Christopher Morley

Dress Rehearsal!

2010-05-11T23:30:00.003-05:00

We had a full dress rehearsal tonight, so not only did we run late, but the men got their first taste of drag. *rim shot*

I'm here all week.

I suggest you head for the next county.

Bob's amazing seamstress goddess, Theresa and her loyal and equally incredible cohort, Alicia, wrangled the last of my costume's details into submission. This pleases me. The wire hoop stabbing me in the back did not.

The show opens Thursday, so we are down to the wire. Paxton is looking particularly stressed, but I have confidence. As with many a production that has seen the stage, all that has been going wrong will be righted, and all that continues to go wrong won't be nearly as bad as we anticipated. It's live theatre. Things happen and the show goes on.

Is it strange that my ramblings become saner as I lose more of my mind to sleep? It'd better be, because I've got nothing left to delay you from trotting over to the Samhain Publishing website to pick up your shiny new copy of My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute by the Geeb, otherwise known as Molly Burkhart. Do it. Do it now. It'll make you horny and giggly--at the same time! How can you beat a deal like that?

And now for a song involving theatrical prostitutes. Whee!

Ponder this! Ponder it! Are you pondering?

"Eighty percent of success is showing up." ~Woody Allen

Just Call Me Fairfax, Gwendolen Fairfax.

2010-05-10T23:11:00.004-05:00

That's right, folks. Mission #2 accomplished. As of tonight, I have added another role to my resume, that of Miss Gwendolen Fairfax, the would be fiancee of John 'Jack' 'Ernest' Worthing, in the Stone's Throw Dinner Theatre production of The Importance of Being Ernest.

^_______^

The main reason I auditioned for Othello was to get my stage legs back under me before auditioning for Ernest. I cannot thank Paxton enough for including me in his show, and the same goes for Becki and Bill for casting me in theirs. Thank you all from the cockles of my heart and other pieces of it too.

The fact that I landed a major role is the icing on the cake, but the diabetes-inducing flowers that stain your teeth blue are working with Bob and Tom again! Bob is playing a major role as the lovely Cecily Cardew. Tom will be wooing a lady of his own as Dr. Frederick Chasuble. Watch out world, Bob, Tom, and Pesh ride again! I wonder if Becki knows what she's in for.... She must. She even invited my most favorite chew toy, Geeb, to paint the set.

I love this troupe.

Everyone should start placing bets now on how many bald patches Bob and I will acquire in this production. We will only have three and a half weeks to rehearse, and I can't wait!

In other fantabulous news that warrants a complimentary ear-fuddling, the Geeb is celebrating the release of her first novel tomorrow!

Yea! And the crowd goes wild! Right before they run away to read their dirty novels in private! Woohoo!

That's right folks, pick up your e-copy of My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute at Samhain Publishing. I know I will. I'd better see you in line. Elbows will be nibbled should you fail in this mission. You won't like it when I nibble your elbows. I drool. And I nibble at an angle that will make said drool run into your armpit. Just buy the book and save us all some moisture.

On a final note of good news, tornadoes didn't eat the theatre tonight!

I'd say this was a good day.

Watch out, Ricky, I'm one toe closer to kicking down the doors of your casting calls.

In honor of Geeb's finest hour to date, I present a song.

And for the purists, a less silly version.

Cue the brainy stuff!

"Don't aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally." ~David Frost

Edit: My cat just tried to eat my hair. Just thought you should know. There will be a test over the matter.

Howdy, Ma!

2010-05-09T23:11:00.006-05:00

Might be on the telly in the morning. One of the local stations sent a man to film our rehearsal and interview our fearless Paxton. I don't know how much he filmed. I was so into character, I didn't realize he'd left until we hit a bump in the flow. If the station posts the piece on its website, I'll provide a link.

I read for the next play, The Importance of Being Ernest tonight. I'll elaborate more when I find out the results. Don't want to jinx it and all that. I will say that regardless of the outcome, I did well, and that's all that matters to me. If I don't get a part, it won't be for lacking skill.

Poor Geeb is probably painting as I type this. She's still slaving away at her fantastic set painting. Thank goodness for it too.

I'm slowly working on converting my mother to join Kult Pilkington. Hail the orange-headed one. His head is round like a fucking orange. It's not actually orange. I don't think Ricky has ever actually taken to painting Karl's noggin. Perhaps he should. I could practice on Geeb and post the pictures so he can get the right idea. Yes...I think that will do nicely.

Yeesh, I'm tired. Here's a lovely tune. Great little movie too, in case you've never watched Meet the Robinsons.

Don't forget your free quote!

"Some people dream of success...while others wake up and work hard at it." ~Author Unknown

Thank you. Come again!

Ah, Direction!

2010-05-07T23:49:00.007-05:00

Paxton was unable to join us for rehearsal tonight, so he left us in Raven Micale's capable hands. Talk about a change. Paxton sees the production as a collaboration of artists. For the most part, he leaves us to our own interpretations of the script. He lets us ad lib and edit as we generally see fit. Raven is totally hands on. She seeks the motivations behind the characters and dunks the actors' heads in buckets of emotion. Paxton is fantastically relaxed in his approach, which makes working with him very easy. Raven has a vision and makes sure every actor's brush complements and flows with all the other strokes coming into play.

As an actress newly returned to the stage after a decade-long hiatus, I have to say I prefer Raven's approach. Her direction and insight have swept away a lot of the doubt and second-guessing I tend to do when left to my own devices. She made suggestions that I never would have thought of and they just feel right. The lines and emotions are more comfortable and it radiates through the production. I find myself clinging to such guidance as I find and strengthen my stage legs.

Raven reminds me a lot of one of my most influential mentors, a coworker named Patty. Patty was blunt, honest, and one of the most deeply caring women I've ever known. She could force feed you the most jagged nuggets of truth in a way that not only made them go down, but also grew sweeter after the bitter shells melted.

Raven also told me she thinks I have talent, which means so much coming from someone who has been in the biz for years. The frog that crept into my throat at those words also clung to the observation she made that has been told to me many times throughout my life, I need to trust myself. It's true. My confidence is crap. It's getting better. I can join a new group of people like I've always known them, but I still require constant validation of my own ideas. I hope joining this troupe has set me on the road to correcting that detrimental flaw.

This entry is sorely lacking my usual dosage of fruit.

Mangoes.

Meh, that's only marginally better.

Ooh! Bob's going to prom tomorrow night! Remember, Bob, keep your knees together! Wow, that sounded dirty. Really, I only meant that she should keep her knees together when she's dancing. Vertically. On the dance floor. With chaperones. Not with chaperones. Dancing vertically with chaperones watching. Wait. Crap. Bob is going to dance alone with her knees together while the chaperones watch.

Oi.

Bob, if you must go to prom, make sure the chaperones at least give you tips. I mean money! Not advice! If the chaperones are going to watch, they should at least pay, not tell you what to do. This is all going very badly.

Bob, just have fun, and dance with your legs crossed and your Everlast securely locked. (All joking aside, Bob's a dear and would never do anything to jeopardize her future for something so silly as a boy and hormones, or else Duh Pesh will pinch her ankles.)

Song!

Wisdom!

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." ~Attributed to Howard Thurman

Butt Crabs!

2010-05-05T22:43:00.005-05:00

Crustaceous Assus, commonly known as butt crabs, will migrate south in the summer when the hair on the host's palms becomes so thick and warm that it becomes inhabitable.

Ah, the smell of fresh cut grass, sun tea on the porch, kids playing on the freeway, body crabs making their great migrations, it is definitely summer.

Rehearsal went well, per usual. I think I nailed the bit with my gloves. It's a waste, because it will never happen that way again. Such is the law of my luck. Maybe I'll get the timing down, but I'll probably slap one glove on the table and knock over everyone's drinks on opening night. Hey, a gal's got to have a goal, right?

...

...

I've run out of crap to prattle on about tonight, so let's get to a tune! Tonight's selection comes from one of Bob's song spasms. I thought the band was Squirrel Nut Zippers, but I stand corrected in learning that this song was actually performed by Cherry Poppin' Daddies. Their name pleases me too, but since I can't let the Squirrel Nut Zippers go by without a link, enjoy a bonus track!

Aw, look who decided to come home...quote!

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I hope he wasn't talking about gastropods.

Bloglet!

2010-05-04T23:02:00.004-05:00

Rehearsal ran extra late tonight, so I will cover tonight's topics in the form of a list.

1. Geeb is making incredible progress on painting the set and Paxton has dubbed her a life saver. Not the candy, but I haven't seen any non-scripted brushes with death in this production, so maybe he did mean the candy.

2. Tom has perfected his smug victory face in the final scenes of scripted brushes with death. He's such a good villain. He has his turtle genes/jeans? to thank. I think the proper term is jeans. 'Levi' can be rearranged as 'evil,' and I don't think it's a coincidence.

3. Bob had on one of the cutest dresses I've seen in a long time. I miss my size two figure, though I suspect hers is closer to zero.

4. Bird-watching pumpkin cake. 'Twas yum.

5. Helicopters. Take some time to ponder this one.

6. Flanimals. I've converted at least three new fans. Joooinn uuuusss....

7. Ummm...Ricky Gervais. Duh.

Another song that doubles as a quote.

Good night!

Turtle! Turtle!

2010-05-03T22:14:00.004-05:00

Did you know the Turtle is the most ebil of all reptiles? It's true. Just check out tomorrow's issue of The Joplin Globe or The Carthage Press. There may be a picture of Bob, Rowland, and me having an animated discussion at our "cafe" table. This conversation was an intense exchange speculating the rise and continuing dominance of the Turtle as the most ebil of all things reptilian. For your sake, and the safety of your great aunts, if you see a Turtle shout, "Go to shell!" Be sure to shout now. If the Turtle is not properly floored, you're done. Go on and practice.

...

Use your diaphragm.

Good.

After shouting at the Turtle, turn him into soup. It is the only form from which he can never return.

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle. G.I. Joooe!

Ahem.

So we got to try on our costumes again for the press shoots and I have to give another round of huge props to Theresa and her cohort, whose name, I'm ashamed to say, I've never caught. The outfits are incredible, beautiful. I and the rest of the cast cannot thank her enough. I hope the personal satisfaction from such work is at least half as tingly as the thrill of wearing the final products.

Bob, your mom is a keeper.

And on to more public humiliation for my darling Geeblet. Her fabulous work continues on painting our set. I showed up early to help. Guess how much I contributed! Not a damn stroke!

Anyhoo, several folks stopped to marvel at her hand-frickin'-painted stone wall. I'm tellin' ya, she's a machine. GEEB v3.3 specifically. Not sold in stores. Thank all that is good.

Tonight's selection is stolen from Geeb's mix CD. Scandals aside, Michael Jackson was a musical genius. I can't think of another artist that could write music that both lifts the heart and breaks it all in one beautiful stroke. I think I'll save my quote for another night and let this ample song stand for both staples of my blog. Now, I'm off to stare through Tom the Turtle's bedroom window until he wakes up screaming. G'night, all!

Molly Van Geeb

2010-05-02T22:50:00.003-05:00

Tonight was our first night off book. What a night. We started off well, then someone missed a line and it all went to hell. Who kicked off the fuck-around, you ask? Why, who else? Duh Pesh Mode! Duh Pesh Mode strikes swift and deep. There are no survivors. If someone tells you about the destruction and carnage caused by Duh Pesh Mode, slap him. He's a damned liar. If he'd been there, he'd be dead. If he continues to insist his story is factual, kill him quickly. He's a zombie. Go ahead. Check. I'll wait.

...

...

He was reaching for your head when you looked, wasn't he? See why you should always keep blunt objects handy? You never know when you're going to have to smack the bitch out of a damned, lying zombie who only thinks he was cool enough to survive an encounter with Duh Pesh Mode.

Ew.

Make sure you leave a koala next to that mess.

Speaking of messes, Geeb finally got to work on the set tonight! Yea! Villagers rejoice!

I said rejoice, dammit!

That's better.

The backdrop is looking fantastic. It's all mountainy and hilly and bluey.... ^__^

She really is justified in calling herself a painter. I'll have to be sure to find a way to set it all on fire tomorrow.

I was going to be lazy and just post a link to this song because Ricky linked to a Simple Minds song that I'd never heard before on his blog tonight. I thought, hmm, they have a song I'm familiar with, what the hell was it? So, I found it, and what do you know? It's the main tune from The Breakfast Club, the only Molly Ringwald movie I've ever really seen. Poor Bob was near smacking me tonight for my lack of Molly Ringwald movie viewing. It's a wonder I can call myself a child of the eighties with such a gap in my pop culture experience. The sad thing is, Bob wasn't even thought of until the nineties. And lo, this entry has come full circle...jerk. ^__^

Quote!

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hand Crabs

2010-04-29T22:14:00.005-05:00

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?

2010-04-28T22:30:00.004-05:00

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

2010-04-26T22:30:00.003-05:00

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...

2010-04-25T22:40:00.002-05:00

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!

2010-04-22T22:31:00.009-05:00

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!

2010-04-21T22:49:00.003-05:00

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!

2010-04-20T22:34:00.010-05:00

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!

2010-04-18T22:04:00.004-05:00

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.

2010-04-17T14:37:00.003-05:00

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!

2010-04-14T21:53:00.003-05:00

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....

2010-04-13T21:39:00.007-05:00

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!

2010-04-12T21:58:00.006-05:00

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!

2010-04-11T22:00:00.009-05:00

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

2010-04-07T21:52:00.004-05:00

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

2010-04-05T20:55:00.003-05:00

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

2010-04-01T21:08:00.004-05:00

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

2010-04-01T00:03:00.005-05:00

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!

Well, that year was...interesting.

2010-03-29T21:19:00.005-05:00

Thank goodness for friends. If it weren't for them, I'd be committed by now. The highlight of last year: my family threw me under a bus with snow chains for the sake of the catastrophe that was my sister. She's still alive, but I say was because I disowned her. Okay, she disowned me first, but I've since shown her how it's done. But I digress.

I loved performing in high school. The auditorium was my home. Whether I was in a play or trying not to trip during a show choir performance, I only wanted to entertain.

Then came college.

I auditioned for a theatre scholarship at the local college along with three of my classmates. The three of them came away with tech scholarships. Mine was for acting. The very head of the department was assigned as my advisor, and that's when it all went south.

That troll of a man sucked every last ray of joy from the stage for me. He made performing a source of stress and overwhelming feelings of inadequacy in an already self-doubting teenager. He enrolled me in senior level courses then critiqued me as if I were a senior. I ran screaming from the campus after only one semester.

Then, I went to work. I did retail. I did sales. I worked at a utility. More retail. Collections. And finally, I landed a secretarial job in a hospital's maintenance department. I love this job. The people are fantastic, and I happily wallow in my work.

But something was missing. Oh yeah. My dream.

My poor husband has coaxed me out of bouts of depression brought on by watching DVD special features on more than one occasion. He gets nervous when I watch a behind-the-scenes anything. As practical as I try to be, my heart remains stubborn.

Then I became an atheist, and being practical lost some of its value. In realizing that this life is my only chance for happiness, and that that happiness is entirely my responsibility, I have returned to the theatre.

And finally, I'm to the point of these ramblings.

With Geeb in tow for immoral support (and because she wanted to giggle while I publicly searched for my long lost stage legs), I attend my first audition in over ten years. A local community dinner theatre is doing a production of Othello in six weeks. There is one more night of auditions before the casting calls go out, but I'm feeling optimistic. The audition went very well, and I think I may have a chance at a major role. Of course, after ten years, I'll be perfectly content to push a cart across the stage calling, "Bring out yer dead!"

Cross your fingers and break my legs. If this goes well, I'll be one minute step closer to my loftiest goal: an attempt at avoiding laughing while taking direction from Ricky Gervais.

In honor of Mr. Gervais, here's a song.

Fresh Year, Fresh Start

2009-01-04T11:36:00.003-06:00

Last year, I spent most of my time concentrating on my health. It's not that I'm even remotely unhealthy; I've just been very conscious of my BMI and elevated triglycerides. I started 2008 with Tony Horton's Power 90 with fantastic results in the blood work department, but my already healthy frame didn't show any dramatic changes, which was fine. After Power 90, I moved on to P90X. Great workout, but I had a hard time forcing myself to carve out at least an hour everyday, and don't get me started on the hateful beast that is yoga.

Unfortunately, through all of my exercise and obsessing over nutrition labels, my writing fell by the wayside. I barely opened a Word file. I wrote perhaps thirty pages last year.

This year, will be my year of balance. I'm going back to school this month. I'm a general studies student now, but at this rate, I think I'll wind up as an English teacher in about ten years.

On January 1, I cracked open Tony Horton's 10-Minute Trainer. I'm sore as we speak, but it's a good pain. One that means my body is recovering from all the duff-sitting I've done for the last few months. I kid you not, I've gained ten pounds since I quit P90X. I think 10-Minute Trainer will be the right balance of Tony ass-kickery versus work and school scheduling. Now, if only I could figure out a way to make vegetables taste like brownies.

Yesterday, I curled up with my new HP Mini (the new love of my life, sorry hubby). I worked for a few hours in the morning, took a mid-afternoon nap, then hopped back on the keyboard until 12:30 last night. I managed to crank out 3,658 words. I just pray I won't turn around and declare them crap next week.

We shall see.

So, here's to the new year. May its fruits be as plentiful as its potential.

Balding

2006-03-12T18:00:00.000-06:00

I'm pulling my hair out over this book. It's such a mess; I can barely bring myself to look at it. The more time I spend away from the limping, drooling, lobotomized, and beaten ugly-fest I call my book, the more I want to change it: adding in a trip to Earth, making bigger villains out of the gods the current deities banished, making grayer villains out of the mortals calling for the heroine's blood, and making grayer friends out of those she and I thought we could trust.

I've known that the blurring of lines between good and evil is a much needed necessity since I wrote 'The End' all the way back in November. The thought about a visit to Earth came about recently. It would add a transition between dimensions that opens up opportunities for ick to hit the fan. Unfortunately, I feel that it may add a major element of sci-fi where this is a fantasy story at heart.

I think I'm just going to have to start from scratch. AGAIN. But that's okay, each time through brings me closer to fully understanding my characters and lets me breathe more life into them. I just hope I have some hair left by the time we all come to an agreement.

NaNoWriMo

2005-12-17T12:43:00.000-06:00

Well, since my blog has been revived. . . for now. I guess I should announce the completion of my first full draft of Blood & Crystals. I've been working on this story for about five years now, always getting just so far before scrapping my progress and starting over. Thanks to NaNoWriMo, I can finally settle into editing land. Okay, so it will be more like the abyss of editing hell, but at least it's editing.

I finished the draft at 9:07 AM on November 24th (Thanksgiving morning) with 63,403 words, and it is an unbelievable mess. I have loose ends flying around like an open barrel of monkeys in a clothes dryer. I need to sit down with some character sheets and further define my cast. I need to decide whether I'll leave the world as it is or alter it into the idea that has been tooling around my brain for the last week or so. Decisions, decisions. At least the story is on paper.

*does the gelatinous happy jig*

Tagged!

2005-12-17T11:25:00.000-06:00

*blows dust off blog*

*nearly asphyxiates in the moldy cloud*

And this is why I almost never started a blog in the first place. I've never been much of a journal keeper. Whenever journals were assigned in school, I wouldn't touch them until the nights -- or classes -- before their due dates.

Anyhoo, Joely has taken the defibrillator to this site and tagged me.

1.) List five of your weirdest habits.

Hmm. . . Geeb, stop your snickering. I mean it. *evil monkey glare*

*First off, I don't eat processed meat. I don't care how lean it is, if flesh has been run through a grinder, it will not pass my lips. I attribute this to always being the only one at the table to find the hard thing in my hamburger. Talk about hitting the gag reflex. I also blame McDonald's chicken nuggets for the same reason. Now, if an animal has been tossed into a blender then handed to a kindergarten class with the instructions to mold it back into its original shape, I'm not eating it.

*This one may make some of you scream, "Too much information!" Hehehe. Anytime I go to the bathroom, I have to take off my wedding ring and sit it on the sink or bathtub edge. I just have this horrible feeling that if one of the prongs holding my sapphire in place is going to break, it will be my luck for it to happen over the toilet. That is the last place I want to go fishing for my rock.

*I can't read a book more than once. I can watch some movies time and time again, but when it comes to books, I guess I'm just not patient enough to sit through them twice. I don't care how much I love the story.

*If I spill salt, I can't resist throwing some of it over my shoulder. I feel like I have a demon crawling up my neck if I don't.

*I love listening to Ace of Base, that Swedish band that had two or three hits when I was in junior high. Some of the lyrics may be stupid or make no sense, but they're so much fun to belt in the shower.

*And as a bonus habit, the weirdest of them all: I hang out with Geeb. I know. I can't believe it either. *fruity giggle*

2.) Tag five.

O_o I don't know five bloggers that haven't been listed. Let's see what I can pull out of the air.

Prongs Rini
Becca Stareyes
dxgirly
Sisi
Koujis Wolf

Okay, so they're all livejournal folks. They probably don't even know I have this blog, but I do consider them friends, so the list is here for them to stumble across.

3.) Copy the list (and its links) below and post it with the TOP name/link removed and your blog/link added to the BOTTOM.

4.) Track back here to let me know you've done the dirty deed.

5.) Pass the whole schmeer on, including these lil guidelines.

I'm Just a Girl
third world county
Soliloquy -- Nancy Bond
Joely Sue Burkhart
Pesh's Nikra Wood

Mmm...fooood...

2005-08-01T12:18:00.000-05:00

Ever since I became a housewife, sorry, domestic engineer (who comes up with this stuff?), I've felt like Donna Reed. I actually get off my butt a few times a week and run the vacuum, fold laundry, and find homes for our piles o' clutter-- I've even started doing dishes like an obsessed maniac. (Shut it, Geeb.) Heheh.

Yesterday, I found out just how bad I have the 50's housewife syndrome. I went to bed early on a Saturday night so I could get up at 7:00 AM to peel potatoes and carrots for a roast for five people. I also baked two dozen Texas-style rolls--frozen, but I brushed them with butter--and yes, that's fancy for me. I even baked cookies. Thank goodness, Geeb/Molly was there to help me fight the humidity that kept caramelizing the dough.

So now I'm sitting here, my muscles still burning from my morning Pilate's, eating chocolate chip cookies and milk, and wishing Grandma still made dinner once a week like she used to.

That woman puts Betty Crocker to shame. Her chicken and noodles could start a duel to the death for the last bowl. Her bran muffins are exquisite fresh from the oven with butter and jelly or honey, and they're excellent after a stop in the microwave and devoured without toppings. Her scrambled eggs are always fluffy, and practically vanish from the table. Her fried chicken makes any heart-blockage well worth it, and the mashed potatoes and gravy she makes to go with it...I can't even begin to describe.

I miss the 50's housewife--the woman who broke her back everyday with a smile to make home a place to be longed for after it is gone. Childhood antics and those precious few memories that are never forgotten are wondrous things, but women like my grandmother created a backdrop for those memories that warms the soul like none other.

I need another cookie.

Denied!

2005-07-30T14:57:00.000-05:00

Well, I heard back from my first ever submission.

"Dear Betsy:

Thank you for submitting "Misguided" to ---- ----- -----. However, your story--while it has many merits--doesn't quite fit what we are seeking to include in the ---- ----- --- anthology. Your story is too blatantly moralistic.

May you have success in placing your work elsewhere.

Best regards,

Et cetera..."

I don't think I could ask for a better first rejection. It wasn't what he was looking for, but it seems to cast a vote of confidence in that someone else will want it.

I can live with that.

Umm...

2005-07-29T09:54:00.000-05:00

*crickets chirping*

...

...

I knew I wouldn't be able to think of anything witty to slap up here. Heh.

I guess an introduction is in order. I write. I'd say I'm a "writer" except I've yet to land a paycheck. (I'm hoping this is because I've only ever submitted one thing to an editor and have yet to hear back from him.)

This blog will be my little hole in the web for me to rant and rave about blocks, characters revolting, plots twisting around my neck and squeezing, and all the other joys that come with trying to write a novel.

So, yeah, I guess that's an intro, and I guess that'll do for today.