Tag Archives: theatre

I Have a Blog No One Reads, Too — And I Know How to Use It

So. . . it’s been awhile. Turns out when you give birth to twins, your ability to sit still for lengthy periods of time seriously dwindles. I did pull off the all-female production of 1776, which was nominated for five local BroadwayWorld Awards and won for Best Costumes (YESSSS!). I was nominated as Best Actress in a Musical and as Person to Watch, which was very flattering and exciting, even if I didn’t win. I also performed in two other productions (Into the Woods and a world premiere play called My Dear Miss Chancellor, which was about a secret society of sword fighting lesbians set in Jane Austen era London and yes it was as bad ass as that sounds).

I’ve been busy. Happy. Exhausted. Busy. And not very full of writing, I am sorry to say!

So what, dear reader, has brought me out of hibernation?

Why, self-righteous rage, of course!

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Yes I Can, Yes I Can!

Let’s start with this brilliant musical theatre duet:

I admit that I am pretty easily manipulated if you frame something in terms of my ego, for example, our household’s longstanding Quilt Challenge.  My husband has very openly stated that he would love it if I would make a quilt, but he knows that I couldn’t do it.  Despite this pathetically obvious attempt to use reverse psychology (in reality, my husband believes that I can do anything), I have totally fallen for it and I know damn well that someday I will make a quilt!  My excuse now is that I don’t really have a sewing room or even a sewing spot and our cats would sleep on it and it’s actually really expensive to get started and I also don’t own a sewing machine.

But god damn it, I’m going to sew a quilt one day and make M Fox eat it.

The problem with pregnancy Dos and Don’ts is that it’s not just about your ego; your choices affect the life (or lives, in my case) of a blissfully ignorant little creature who is happily jabbing you in the cervix because it’s so excited that its limbs move.  Awww.

There are the undebatable Don’ts — like you can’t chug a Long Island Iced Tea, shoot up some heroin, and then hop on Space Mountain.

To be fair, you probably shouldn’t do that when you’re not pregnant, but ESPECIALLY when you’re pregnant, such behavior is frowned upon.

The dietary Dos and Don’ts are mostly a matter of common sense and personal preference.  Apparently you’re not supposed to eat cantaloupe, fro-yo, or turkey sandwiches.  I say (and, remember, I am a doctor*) use your best judgment.  If you want to live off of goldfish and the occasional grape (after drudging it in vinegar to get off the poison), then hey, go ahead.  If, like a certain Classy Dame, you want to drink diet soda and gorge yourself on sushi, then hey, go ahead.  Pregnancy safety is a matter of statistics and paying attention to statistics is, oddly enough, totally subjective.  *No I’m not

But that’s a conversation that a lot of people have already talked themselves hoarse over.

The thing that I find most oppressive about pregnancy is the conversation that goes beyond eating, drinking, and going to Disneyland or Space Camp — it falls into either the pitying with concern (“How are you going to be able to do that?”) or the pitying with certainty (“You realize that you won’t be able to do that ever again”) category.


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A Reset

My dad once told me a story. He was a young actor in New York and had a lot of young actor friends.  One such friend was turning down auditions for commercial work because he said he was afraid that it would “hurt his career.”  My dad, an eloquent man, responded with, “What career?”

I think I need to revisit this story more often.

Since moving to Seattle, I have been pursuing theatre.  I don’t even know in what capacity yet. Should I be able to climb up to the status of it being a “career,” then bully for me, if not then I’m happy to do theatre as a passionate hobby.  To tell the truth, I don’t know how honest that is, but that is my story and I’m sticking to it.

I have been on quite a few auditions lately and have done very well at most of them — this, in and of itself, is a triumph.  I am really proud of the work I have done in the past year, even if it hasn’t necessarily bore me much fruit.  I wanted to be in four productions this year and am halfway through my goal.  After being passed over the last several times I’ve auditioned (and gotten to callbacks, even!), I admit that I’m starting to get all moody about it.

And it’s only fricken July!  The year is barely half over!  I needed a reset.  Fortunately I have a brilliant vocal coach and supportive friends and husband and I’ve been able to get my head straight.  But it had been eating at me for awhile.  Worrying about my “failed” career.  What career?  Ha!

To clarify: I don’t mean that in a negative, derogatory way, but in a FREEING way.  I have nothing, therefore, I have nothing to lose.  This is a good thing.  This concept should be paradoxically relaxing and energizing.  I have everything to win.

Speaking of jobs, I have four more days working at Cheezburger and even though I am so glad that I took this job and have really enjoyed it, I am really going to be happy when it’s over.

I am looking forward to having a quiet, boring day.  I am looking forward to having a quiet week.  I am looking forward to having my thoughts and my time to myself.

I am currently working on an idea for a musical.  This is a seriously lofty idea that may in fact turn out to be a disaster.

I’m not going to delete that last sentence, but I think that that is extremely telling of my state of mind about my art right now.


How could it be a disaster? ;)  Why do I have to make every artistic endeavor a matter of complete triumph or failure?  Can’t it just be?

Also, I know that I have been derelict in my monthly-writing promise.  I’ve done some work on my musical, which I am not ready to share publicly, but I would still like to work on my Mia stuff.  I really like her and I like my idea so I will keep pecking away at that.  There.  I’ve made a public promise to myself and now it’s time to keep it.

Seriously, you stupid jerks: A rant with cursing

I realize that there are some people out there who weren’t raised by two actors.  I realize that there are people out there who don’t regularly go to theatre.  I realize there are people out there who think that theatre is a dying art form and OMG did you see what Kim Kardashian did?!?!

But I believe that everyone can find a play or a musical that moves and inspires them.  I invite everyone and anyone to anoint themselves in the majesty and inimitable magic that is live theatre.

That all being said, I feel like there is a very basic level of human decency that has somehow gotten lost.  Old people will blame the young people.  Young people will blame the decaying establishment.  Arty people will blame the unwashed masses.  I don’t really care whose fault it is.  The Classy Dame is about to help y’all out in a big way.  Ready?  Here goes.

I was recently in a one-act that went on to a regional theatre festival.  For months, we worked very hard on this show — The Long Christmas Dinner by Thornton Wilder, for those interested.  It’s basically  a time lapse of 90 years of Christmas dinners for an American family.  People were children, got married, grew old, and then finally passed on all on stage.  We went through several on-stage, on-the-sly costume changes as different fashions and eras came and went.  It was a lot of fun to choreograph, but still a lot of work.

Before going to the festival, we put the show up for one weekend so that we could get a feel for the audience’s reaction before performing it before the judges. We invited our friends and family to come see it, the community supported us in the local paper, it was all very nice, lovey dovey, supporty-worty and all that stuff.

During the 45 minute show, two cellphones went off AND some idiot was taking photos with their camera phone.


We’re all very impressed at how much the internet and the outside world is DYING to hear from you on a constant basis.

Seriously.  Good for you.  I sometimes go days without anyone giving a shit what I have to say so, really, that’s truly impressive.

But let me keep it simple.  SHUT OFF YOUR DAMN PHONE.

And if you are so moved by what’s happening on stage that you simply must Instagram it, could you please wait until after the show and then clamor outside my dressing room with flowers and/or bribes of sexual favors like how it’s SUPPOSED to be?!

I mean for God’s sake, does this really still need to be explained?

Even for movie theatres, which aren’t as sacred to me as a regular theatre (though I do have friends who would vehemently disagree), I still think this is relevant advice.  I have sat through rated R film where people bring in infants.  Most notably? Cabin in the Woods.  YEAH.  I’ve been in movie theatres where people spend the film texting or even do that ridiculous thing of ANSWERING THEIR PHONE in order to say in a sotto voice, “Yeah, I’m in a movie, what’s up?”  Sadly, I’m almost surprised when stupid shit like that doesn’t happen.  And while the other movie-goers are going to be annoyed, at least George Clooney isn’t going to have to pause awkwardly because he was previously competing with your stupid sailor shanty ringtone.

But in LIVE THEATRE, the thing is, the thing is, folks, it’s LIVE.  And the actors can see you.  And hear you.

And I’m not saying that actors are always riveting or that the script is always good or that the music is always on key or the lights are going to go up at the right time (incidentally, none of those things apply to the show *I* was in, because we were fricken awesome), but there are human beings on stage who have created something for you. And you, theoretically, have willingly come and paid to see it.  So don’t you think you owe your fellow human beings taking part in one of humanity’s oldest art forms the simple courtesy of turning off your damn phone?!

Also, 1995 wants its ringtone back.

I swear I’m still here

Sorry dear readers, I swear I haven’t forgotten you!  I’m playing Snoopy in a local production of “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” and we’re nearing opening so any non-dog related activity has ground to a halt.  I do have another Mia post coming up soon, I’m going to do a quiche-making ride-along, and I also have been wanting an opportunity to gush about my new favorite thing in the WHOLE WORLD.  (Hint: Start your engines. . .)

In the meantime, here is a pre-production photo of me as Snoopy, chasing the Red Baron.  Enjoy :)

Someday, someday I'll get you, Red Baron!

Someday, someday I’ll get you, Red Baron!


Review: Teatro ZinZanni

Originally posted here: http://www.examiner.com/review/dinner-at-wotan-s-at-teatro-zinzanni-parties-like-it-s-ragnarok

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The Book of Mormon: some tough love for the tour

The original Broadway cast of "The Book of Mormon."

The original Broadway cast of “The Book of Mormon.”

Let’s just get this out of the way. If you are offended by cursing, genital mutilation, sodomy jokes, or are religiously sensitive, you should not see this show. (Although the Mormon Church took out three full-page color ads in the program with clever tags like “You’ve seen the play, now read the book!” Ten points to them.) Also, if you don’t know what “South Park” is, you probably should just find a nice Spencer Tracy movie to watch on AMC.

And now on with the show.

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