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.

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

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

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

Flaming Koala Bombs

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

Opening Night!

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.

Just Call Me Fairfax, Gwendolen Fairfax.

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!

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!

Bloglet!

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!

Molly Van Geeb

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

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

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

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

^___^

Song!

O
o
O

O

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

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

Weirdness...I know, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jooiiin Uuuusss...

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

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

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

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

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

New Lines!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, Rested.

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

Finally, I am rested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could she be?

IMDB to the rescue!

Yes!

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

Now for a song!

Don't forget the quote of the day!

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

So Tired....

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

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

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

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

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

That is all.

We Have A Director!

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

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

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

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

Whew! Plugs galore! No leaks in this entry!

Revised Script

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

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

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

Speaking of nuts...Song!

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

Role 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that year was...interesting.

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.