Don't You Die On Me!

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?

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!

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. ^_^

Night of the Pesh

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

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