A Panic Attack of Stage Managerial Proportions

I have a plethora of stage managing stories and have heard many, many more. This one takes the cake, I think. It's one that you wouldn't want to have as a nightmare and really wouldn't want to live through. But, I did.

It was a Friday night during Power. There's a man that teaches classes in the space a few times during the week, including Friday morning. He has a "special" light that he turns on himself for the classes. Usually, I'm the first one into the building and have to turn all the lights on. On this particular, fateful day, may auntie had been cleaning so the lights were already on when I got there. I thought nothing of it and went about getting ready for the show.

After the curtain speech, I hit the mouse button to cue the blackout. But, it didn't go to black, because Gene's light was still on! And it was plugged into an outlet DOWN BY THE STAGE!

Somewhere in my head was the idea that it was also somehow plugged in in the booth. So, I start unplugging things. This may have been a good idea, but wasn't. I ended up unplugging my computer that controls the lights. So, by this time, the actors are playing out the first scene in Gene's light and I can't turn on any others for them, because I, as I said, unplugged the computer.

Sigh.

By this time, Leslie has come into the booth to ask me what the hell's going on and I've grumbled out something about Gene's light as I'm furiously plugging things back in.

She says she'll go unplug it, but realizes she can't until my computer has booted back up, because then the actors would be in the pitch dark.

FINALLY, the computer is back up and running and I bring up a light cue for the end of the scene. Do I bring up the right one? Of course not! In my anxiety to get SOME light, ANY light back on, I've brought up the wrong damned cue.

As the scene comes to an end, I kick it over to the proper scene change lights and Leslie rushes down to unplug Gene's special.

And Kati spends the next three hours bringing her breathing back to normal and wiping the sweat stains off of every surface in the booth.

You can bet every penny you own that I checked that light every night after that.

And will until I die. Sheesh.

Would the Children's Television Workshop Approve?

Last weekend, as part of the Labor Day festivities, I went to see some Shakespeare in the park with my favorite cohorts. Every summer at Barnsdall park, they do three shows "in rep," as they call it. This summer it was Richard II, Macbeth and A Midsummer Night's Dream. We saw Midsummer.

Now, I went in with mighty-high expectations! After all, I had seen my auntie YEARS before in a park production of Midsummer. (She had actually performed in the same park!) She had played Puck and was miraculous. I have to say, her costume wasn't nearly as cool as this guy's though.

Let me see if I can describe it accurately. First, he was wearing shorts made of Elmo skin. Then he had bands of Elmo skin around each wrist and each ankle. Black tennis shoes almost finished off the ensemble, but the piece de resistance was the big silver nipple ring in his left nipple. (God, I love L.A.)

At the sight of him (and Oberon in his matching muppet skin cape and black jeans), I thought fleetingly of the wee bottle of pinot grigio that was still in my picnic bag. I soon changed my mind, though. For despite the uber simple set consisting of three walls and two aluminum ladders, and the woman playing Hermia who would have made the perfect spokeswoman for Prozac, I found myself having a fantastic time.

The place was jam-packed as it was their last show and the audience was beside themselves. The best part? It was FREE!!! Can you believe it? They did have buckets out for donations at the end and I dutifully put in my ten bucks, but still anything free in this day and age is pretty impressive.

So, here's to them, for convincing a skeptic and for the skill with which they skinned those muppets.

Awwwwww!

I can't stand how cute this is!

Tasty Peachy Goodness

Now that I have my camera with me, I can show you the gorgeousness that was my contribution to Chick Day!

I found the recipe on Epicurious.com and thought it sounded perfect. After all, this is the exact time of year for fresh peaches.

Peaches and raspberries in spiced white wine. There was also a version for red wine, but I preffered the lightness of the white with the peaches.

And I still made it in my kitchen when it was 105 degrees outside. Insanity.

You can see how good it looks, but I wish you could have smelled it. Something must have happened chemically, because all those good things together smelled even better than you can imagine.

I even ran out of sugar and had to use half brown sugar. Do you think it hurt it? No way! Hell, it may have made it better. And I ended up, completely by mistake, with two different kinds of peaches. Also, probably improved it!

Clever Ideas? Anybody?

So, I'm wanting to post something very clever and witty today. Something that will make you all laugh and fall out of your chairs in mirth.

I would be glad to do that, but I've got nothing. Bupkiss. Nada.

I thought about a post about how freaking hot it's been here, but listening to someone else bitch and maon is never very much fun.

I thought about a Happy Anniversary blog to celebrate our first year in our theatre.

I thought about the night during Power when a light was left on and chaos ensued.

I thought about the merriment of my Labor Day weekend, including the peaches and raspberries with spiced wine that I made for our Girl Day yesterday. (That'll probably come later this week when I have my camera with me. It was a thing of beauty and I took pictures.)

I even thought about the latest Harry Potter book and my many favorite bits.

Nothing's inspiring me, though.

Blah.

You Call This Archaeology?

OK, I found this post through a link on Annejelynn's blog. The post is actually on Fuzzball's blog and made me laugh so hard I think I wet myself a little. Just check it out, please.

Do you think Indiana Jones ever thinks about this stuff when he's ransacking tombs?

Oh, What a Night!

Last Friday, I got to go TO the theatre, instead of going and making it! I have to say, it was pretty damn nice.

I went to see Jersey Boys at the Ahmanson Theatre in downtown LA. I sucked up my, "Ew, downtown!" issues and hopped in my car.

Fearing the Friday evening traffic would be a nightmare, I ended up being an hour and a half early for an 8pm curtain. What are you gonna do?

Fortunately, I had saved my leftover Subway sandwich from lunch and knew the pavilion outside the theatre would be a nice place to hang out for a while and people watch.

My favorite was the dad in his jeans and blazer with his maybe 7 year old daughter in tow. She was in her little black dress, Angeleno black flip-flops and, hand-in-hand with dad, was ready for a night at the theatre. (Miss you, Daddy!)

I ate my spicy Italian sandwich and drank my vitamin water. (No Coke for me!) I called my mommy and inquired after her recently root-canaled tooth. I lamented over the fact that I couldn't find my damned opera glasses. (Stop laughing.) I admired the fountain and tried to figure out the sculpture atop it. Anybody?

I can tell that you're wondering, "Was she all ALONE?!" And the answer is, "Yes!" My friends showed no interest in seeing Jersey Boys, so I told them they could all go to hell and went all by me onesy, savvy?

I finally wandered inside and found my seat. Sweet mother of Everest! You need oxygen masks up here! Now, I was really pissed that I hadn't found my opera glasses. (I said, stop laughing, you bastards!) Fortunately, they were renting them in the lobby. For $5 and my driver's license, I could see the sequins on their tuxedo lapels. Sweet.

A man and his wife came to sit next to me. As he ogled my boobs, he said I needed to get some new friends. He also insisted on singing along all through the show and, can I just say, he did NOT sound like Frankie Valli!

The show itself was miraculous! The audience loved every second of it and I thought they would spontaneously combust after hearing Christopher Kale Jones (Frankie Valli) sing "Can't Take My Eyes Off You." And I was with them every step of the way. It didn't matter that I wasn't alive in the heyday of the Four Seasons. Two and a half hours flew by and I didn't want it to end.

The best part? Watching those four guys and seeing the joy on their faces. They love doing this show so much. Even after the months and months of doing eight shows a week. Now that's awesome!

I drove home singing "Big Girls Don't Cry" and bouncing in my seat. Too bad they leave after Thursday...

"Vivaldi thought of it first."
"Some guy stole our name?! I'll talk to him!"
-Jersey Boys

Frankly, I'm Stunned!

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 6 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

That was with the first name Katherine! With the first name "Kati," I get that NO ONE has that name! Does that mean I don't exist?

It also says that more than 99.9% of the people named Kati are female. I'm just wondering about the .01% that are guys... I suppose that weirder stuff has happened.

Me and SPF

Being that it hasn't rained in Burbank in about eight months now, I've been dwelling on the sun. Both, literally and figuratively. I was thinking about the Irish fair I went to about a year ago. It was blistering hot in Anaheim and we were outside all day, admiring the sheep dogs, drooling over the jewelry, marvelling at the step dancers' wigs, and contemplating buying t-shirts that said, "Feck off."

In anticipation of the heat, I wore a light peasant shirt. Long sleeved to keep the sun off my arms. I smeared myself with SPF 5,000. Face, neck, ears, decollotage, and even my hands.

We got home that night, I took off my shirt and bra, glanced in the mirror, said "Damn!" and went to find Robyn.

I had a line of white cutting through the salmon pink on my back. My bra had protected me, but I had sunburnt THROUGH my damned shirt. THROUGH IT!!!

Robyn confirmed that I was indeed burnt and I grumbled my way into the bathroom to find the aloe vera.

I've now reached a whole new level of paranoia. Apparently, I can only leave the house while wearing lead clothing.

I'm going to go look up rain dances on Google now.

A Decade's Worth

Yesterday, the metaphorical curtain came down on my tenth show that I've stage managed. I'm ridiculously pleased with myself over it too.

So, here's a look back at all ten.

1. An Orchesis modern dance concert in college. A landmark because it was the first. They picked me for this one, because I was dancer for so long and claimed to know how their minds work. This is usually true, except for the crazy woman who directed this concert. She called me a dip-shit in a production meeting and was the first director to make me cry. I'm amazed that this was a good enough experience that I agreed to do...

2. Our Country's Good. Also for my stage managing class in college, but not for credit. Their SM fell through and I agreed to do it out of the goodness of my heart. Mum always told me to make my living in life by doing something that I'd be happy to do for free. An excellent play about a convict colony in Australia that decides to put on a play. Irony. I love it. Directed by a slightly more stable woman who only made my cry once, instead of multiple times.

3. The pieces that came before are really only important because they led to this one. What the Butler Saw was my first show in LA and my first show for Banshee. A British farce by Joe Orton about a pychiatrist who's unhappy in his marriage and tries to seduce his new secretary. Through a series of hysterical circumstances, almost the entire cast ends up in their underwear. And note that Sean, the director, didn't make me cry once. Nor has he since.

Favorite quote: "Your actions today would get the Archbishop of Canterbury declared non compos."
"I'm not the Archbishop of Canterbury!"
"No, that will come at a later stage of your illness."

4. The Man from Clare is a beautiful play by John B. Keane. One of the few Irish plays that actually has a happy ending. Aging football player has to face the facts and give way to the young buck who's trying to replace him. Falls in love with local homely girl and enchants her family. One of my favorites. I thought I was OK with this one closing until I got in my car to drive home and sobbed all the way. I look forward to doing another of his plays next spring.

Favorite quote: "Thank God for all things wet!"

5. The Hunt for Red Willie was an interesting experience. It didn't bring in the crowds that we needed/wanted it to. Also a farce about poitin makers (that's Irish moonshine, by the way) running about the countryside and a mask with a bizarre influence over those who wear it. We were all glad to see this one close. And yet, we still talk to audience members who say it was their favorite.

6. Mine Eyes Hath Seen has been my favorite out of all the shows I've done. A compilation of journal entries and letters from the Civil War. Amazing because of all the people who came out afterwards saying, "I had no idea!" Gives you a whole new perspective on the people who fought, why they fought, and how they survived (or didn't) during the war. I was very sad to see this one go and started crying even before curtain call started.

Favorite quote: "... gladly would I wash out with my tears, every little stain upon your happiness."

*There was another show that I started to stage manage in this gap, but it was such a hellish experience that I prefer to just ignore the fact that it happened at all. It involved a sociopath director, sobbing, big-ass snakes, too much caffeine, more sobbing, a blatant diregard for equity rules, a ladder, me falling off said ladder, a chiropractor, even more sobbing, a call to my aunt in North Carolina, a resignation 2 days before we opened, a number of hideous reviews, and much rejoicing at being back in the arms of Banshee. I'll leave it at that.*

7. Eclipsed was an intense play about the unwed mothers in the Magdalene laundries in Ireland. The story of a few of them and how they came to be where they are. And their fondness for Elvis. Remember what I said about Irish plays and happy endings...? There was a lot of drinking during this one.

Favorite quote: "The keys, sister! Give us the keys!"

8. Next came Dockers by Martin Lynch. A tale of dock workers in Northern Ireland and their fight against a corrupt union. Ditto about the happy ending. This one was a milestone because it was the first show in our own theatre.

Favorite quote: "Whatever you like now, Sarah. It's all the same to me."

9. Another milestone! First Shakespeare. Henry IV, Part 1 was a pile of fun and very daunting with a cast of 18 and a broadsword battle with 16! And on a stage that's the size of a postage stamp.

Favorite quote: "Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul that thou soldest him on Good Friday last for a cup of madeira and a cold capon's leg?"

And, last but not least...

10. Power by Nick Dear. Louis XIV and all that jazz. Nicholas Fouquet and his machinations. Building Versailles, imprisonment, adultery, fashion, more adultery, and of course apricots. McKerrin was a great director and, also, didn't make me cry. To think that I was going to take a break for this show... Pssh! I'm OK with this one ending because I really need to clean my apartment and go to the grocery store.

Favorite quote: "As for the clergy, they will suffer for their idiotic celibacy."

(Why is it that now while I write this, I can't remember the best quotes...? Maybe I'll have to go back and check my scripts for better ones.)

What comes next, you ask? If I tell you now, then I won't have anything to blog about in the next months. You'll have to keep reading... Just know that it took coercion, bribery, and much cajoling to talk me into the next one. It's a real upper! Ooh, you can feel the sarcasm oozing through the screen, can't you? My loins are girded, so to speak. And not in a fun way.

God, I love live theatre!

Be True To Your School!

I found this meme and had to give it a go. I was reminiscing about Ben Lomond High just yesterday.

What year was it?
1994-1998 "Standing with spirit, proud and great, the fighting Scots of '98!" I can't believe I remember that.

What were your three favorite bands (performers)?
Well, I didn't listen to the radio. I listened to musicals, mostly. And Neil Diamond. Nanci Griffith and Mary Chapin Carpenter were in there too. Cool, that's three.

What was your favorite outfit?
Hmm... I know there was something that I always wore first when the laundry was clean, but of course I can't remember what it was. I had an Eddie Bauer shirt that I always felt really good in.

What was up with your hair?
Jesus. First it was bobbed and FROSTED! Yes, you read that correctly. And FRIZZY!!! Oh my God. I was coming to terms with my natural curl in those days. I let it grow pretty long in my senior year and finally colored it red. (Many thanks to Matt Bond for telling me that I looked like I had dissected a cat and stuck my head into it. Matt also ate cat food and butter pats with the paper still on.)

Who were your best friends?
Jennie, of course! Sarah, Cathy, Jill, Taylor, Ben. And anyone I survived choir with.

What did you do after school?
Modern dance the first couple years.
My senior year, Modern choir every day and taught dance with my mom on Tuesday's.

Where did you work?
I worked over the summers with Grandfather fixing generators.

Did you take the bus?
I walked until I was old enough to have a car. (And when I finally passed my driving test...)

Who did you have a crush on?
The president of our highschool church group. You can imagine how well that ended. He was also dating one of my best friends.

Did you fight with your parents?
Nope.

Who did you have a CELEBRITY crush on?
Dude, like I remember...

Did you smoke cigarettes?
NO.

Did you lug all of your books around in your backpack all day because you were too nervous to find your locker?
You know it. Only in the beginning, though.

Did you have a ‘clique’?
I had choir. I guess that counts.

Did you have “The Max” like Zach, Kelly, and Slater?
I'm sorry. Saved by the Bell references get nowhere with me.

Admit it, were you popular?
Not the most popular, but I wasn't a geek either.

Who did you want to be just like?
My incredibly awesome aunt who was living in LA and the funniest person I knew.

What did you want to be when you grew up?
An Egyptologist. For years. And when I finally realized I wasn't going to be Indiana Jones it was quite a blow.

Where did you think you’d be at the age you are now?
Nine years later? All I know, is that the life I'm living now, is definitely NOT what I foresaw. That's just fine, though. :)

Friday Quote!

"Actors are rogues and vagabonds. Or they ought to be."
-Helen Mirren

More Boredom...

Here's another one you can ignore. More boredom to ensue.

1. How did you get the idea for your profile name? Meaning, "Kati" or meaning, "What the Hell"? Well, Kati's pretty damn obvious. What the Hell?! is just one of those phrases that has insinuated itself into my life and fits so often.

2. What song are you playing now, or wish you were playing? "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen.

3. Has the death of a celebrity ever made you cry? John Spencer's death had me on the verge of tears for about a week.

4. What colour underwear are you wearing? Hang on... Sky blue Jockeys.

5. Do you want a baby? Now? Hell, no. Eventually? Maybe.

6. What does your dad do for a living? He's a librarian. Again.

7. What does your mum do for a living? She runs a child-care resource and referral service.

8. What is/are your pet's name(s)? Brid, my baby bumblebee.

9. What colour are your bed sheets? At the moment, pale green cotton.

10. What are the last 3 digits of your phone number? Which phone number? 022.

11. What was the last concert you went to? U2!!!! A religious experience!

12. Who was with you? Debbie, cause she kicks ass!

13. What was the last film you watched? Die Another Day. Wow, it was awful.

14. Who do you dislike most at this moment? I don't dislike anyone at the moment. It's almost a holiday, I'm willing to be lenient.

15. What food do you crave right now? Something involving mashed potatoes.

16. Did you dream last night? Not that I remember.

17. What was the last TV show you watched? Smallville. I've been sucked in!

18. What is your fav piece of jewelry? My necklace that's a little piece of a map that has London in the middle.

19. What is to the left of you? The wall of my cubicle and a rather nice picture of Hugh Laurie.

20. What was the last thing you ate? Half a chocolate muffin. Mmmm...

21. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Damn, I have lots of guy friends, but who's the best... Maybe, Dan. He's always happy to see me and he makes me laugh even when he's pissing me off.

22. Who last IM'd you? My boss about setting up a meeting. Snore.

23. Where is your significant other right now? Shut up! Fine, my CAT is at home, probably asleep on the dining room table.

24. Do you have a crush? Don't we all?

25. What is his/her name? No way, man.

26. When was the last time you had your hair cut? About a month ago. Way short, way cute, and back to my preferred shade of red.

27. Are you on any meds? What are you implying?

28. Do you have a mental disease? I guess that depends on what you call "disease."

29. What shirt are you wearing? My Innsmouth High swim team shirt.

30. Are you sexy? I like to think so, although sometimes I'm more certain of it than others.

31. What's your favourite store? Barnes & Noble or any other book store. And Sephora cause I get to go all girly.

32. Are you thirsty? A little bit. Maybe they've restocked our fridge with Coke. Must go check.

33. Can you imagine yourself ever getting married? Yes, but it would have to be for the right man. Not just anyone could entice me into that. What does Elizabeth Bennett say? "I am determined that nothing but the deepest love shall induce me into matrimony... so I shall end an old maid and teach your ten children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill." That sounds about right.

34. Who's someone you haven't seen in a while and miss? Jennie.

35. Where do you work? Right here. Can I go home yet?

Bored Beyond Belief

No one has to read all of this, I'm just killing time. :)

I am... at peace with the world. (That's the mantra to keep my hayfever in check.)

I said... "Learn your lines or I'll come after you with a big, sharp stick!"

I want... something tasty for lunch.

I wish... there was more time this week to get our set painted.

I hate... mean people.

I miss... my mummsy.

I fear... clowns.

I hear... the lines from Power in my sleep.

I wonder... what comes next.

I regret... eating that doughnut for breakfast. Ugh!

I am not... giving in.

I dance... through life.

I sing... stuff from Jersey Boys at the top of my lungs in the car.

I cry... at tbe end of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon when Chow Yun-Fat dies in Michelle Yeoh's arms.

I'm not always... as organized as I want to be.

I made... a very tasty chicken and pasta dish a few weeks ago. Thanks to Penzey's!

I write... when I feel inspired.

I confuse... myself.

I need... a day off. Thank God for the 4th.

I should... go help them paint the set tomorrow, but I just mentioned that I need a day off. Dilemma.

I start... many cans of Coke.

I finish... many cans of Coke.

I believe in... passion and living life to it's fullest.

I know... Power is going to be fantastic!

I can... feel it coming.

I can't... help but smile.

I see... more than you think I do.

I blog... when I'm bored. Like now.

I read... therefore I am.

I am aroused by... mischevious smiles and clever banter.

It pisses me off... when people are late.

I find... rubber chickens deeply amusing.

I like... watching rain fall.

I love... Cheetos. What can I say, I'm a simple girl.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Empress Kati the Weird of St Winifred by Winchelsea Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Can you tell that I'm bored...?

His Girl Friday Quote for Friday!

Hildy: "I spent six weeks in Reno, then Bermuda, oh, about four months, I guess. It seems like yesterday to me."
Walter: "Maybe it was yesterday, Hildy. Been seeing me in your dreams?"
Hildy: "Oh, no, Mama doesn't dream about you anymore, Walter. You wouldn't know the old girl now."
Walter: "I'd know you anytime, anyplace, anywhere."

Such an awesome movie! Cary Grant, why don't you love me?

C is for Cookie

My life at the moment is full of sex-crazed Frenchmen and jilted women. Fortunately, I am not one of these poor ladies. I'm just watching them gallavant about on stage.

I found a nice little surprise when I got to the theatre last Friday. It had been a bitch of a day and I was pleased as punch that it was Friday evening! Sigh. I unlocked everything, turned on the lights, and went to dump all my stuff onto the seat next to My Chair.

Yes, that should be capitalized. You see, I always sit in the same seat. I have done for four years and eight shows. I sat in a different seat only once and it freaked me out too much. Everybody knows that the third chair to the right, in the third row, on the right side of the house is MINE. They see me coming and move out of it. Usually, that doesn't happen, though, because I'm almost always the first one there. (The benefits of having a key to the building.)

But, back to my TGIF story. I go to drop my luggage and there sitting on my seat is a blue paper plate and... joy of joys... a cookie.

Now, this was not a fancy shmancy cookie. It was just a TollHouse chocolate chip generic cookie. You would have thought it was the Hope Diamond sitting there from the way I reacted. Thank God none of the cast was there or they would have committed me to the loony bin then and there.

*Side Note: You can print your own Insanity Certificates here. Those boys at the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society should know insane when they see it.

I grinned and giggled and (yes, I admit it) I think I may have squealed. OK, maybe not that far, but still I was ridiculously happy to see it.

Then I started wondering who might have left it for me. I had been there Thursday night until 11:15 or so, so that was out. I knew there was a class on Friday morning's, but I didn't think any of them knew me well enough to leave me a cookie. It's possible that someone was just being piggy and left it there by mistake, but I prefer to think that some good person thought to themselves, "It's Friday. Kati needs a cookie. I know this is her seat. Isn't she cute how she always sits in the same one? If I leave it right here, she'll find it when she comes to rehearsal and it will make her afternoon. How I adore her."

A little over the top perhaps, but hey, a girl can dream!

All I have to say, is that cookie tasted damned good.

Give Me Your Hands if We be Friends

My roomie moved out last week. And I have to say, I'm very bummed about it. I mean, good for her that she's making enough money to afford a place of her own and good for me that she only moved across the street. But, still...

What about those Saturday mornings when she'd be so excited that I had made a pot of tea?

What about the geekazoid West Wing marathons? Or the Peter Wimsey marathons, complete with gin and tonics?

It's very lonely to get home from rehearsal after 11pm and not have her watching South Park. Only the cat awaiting me in a pitch black apartment.

I was ridiculously touched one night this week when she had stopped by to pick up her mail and left the light on for me.

I may be getting a new roommate, but it won't be the same.

And then a part of me says, "Suck it up, Katherine. She's across the damn street!"

Thanks, Robyn.

Once More Into the Breach

Yes, it's that time again, my cherubs.

Time for rehearsal!

Power by Nick Dear. The story of Louis XIV, the Sun King.

New director to work with.

Kick-ass cast. Except for the fact that it's missing my auntie and her beau. Poo on that.

How do I screen roommates when I have so little free time?

Why did the last woman have to turn out to be a flake?

How come the other cool one has found somewhere else to live?

Why? Why? Why?

God, listen to me! Bitch, bitch, bitch!!! I sound overwhelmed, which I'm not. Maybe, "slightly irked" is a better term for it.

Whew, I'm over it. I love going into rehearsal. You know generally what will happen, but it's the details and the journey that make it all different and worth while. Six weeks of exploring and peeling away the layers of the people and the story. Six weeks of making something truly beautiful that will, hopefully, touch someone's life. (Other than mine, of course.) All I have to say is, "Bring it on!"

"We shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few.
We band of brothers.
For he today that sheds his blood with me,
shall be my brother,
be he ne'er so vile."
-Henry V

We're Not in Burbank Anymore, Baby!

So, last weekend, I drove to Vegas. Memorial Day weekend... Vegas... Yes, I am insane.

My pseudo-uncle moved to Vegas and I followed him in his car.

Why, you ask?

To retrieve my beloved Miata.

Ah, perfect sense.

Yes, my cherubs, my car is once again mine. Huzzah! It is pristinely clean and running like a dream. No more busses for me.

But, that's not what this post is about. Oh, no. This post is about The Drive to Vegas. (Dun, dun dun.)

First of all, I was cruising along behind the U-Haul truck, trying to stay awake and a PT cruiser... well, cruised past me and the back window had an ad for "Hookah Parties" on it. (I love living somewhere where that can happen.) I had to call my auntie and cheer.

Second was the place in Baker where you can buy "Alien Fresh Jerky." I don't really need to say more about that. The pictures it creates in your mind do it more justice than I ever could.

Third was the temperature in Baker. F***ing hot is the only way to describe it. Seriously. I'm a girl with a pretty decent vocabulary, but that is the only word that is accurate enough. I'm sure it wasn't even the hottest it could be either. I got out of the car, almost fell down, and thought, "I really need to go back to Burbank."

Another reason why I desperately wanted to get the hell out of Baker was the pleasant up-standing gentleman lurking outside of the gas station. Let's see if I can describe him without hurling all over my keyboard. He was 80,000 years old and shirtless. (Nice.) Sunburnt to within an inch of his life and with three inches of tighty-whity showing above the waistband of his none-so-nice jeans. One crutch (for drama, I suppose) and a cigarette hanging off his lip (for emphyzema, I suppose).

My cousin, who was in a rotten mood and convinced that I had the keys to the truck, kept trying to rifle my pockets while dear old dad was going potty. Well, Mr. Clean made some remark about how dear lil cuz really just wanted to feel me up. Needless to say, I didn't ask him to elaborate.

All in all, I got a good blog post and a car out of the whole shebang, so I figure I came out on top.

Although, when I stopped in Baker on the way home, I was very glad to see that Prince Charming was no longer there. Maybe he went down the road to get some alien jerky.

Ah, What Fools These Mortals Be

I'm supposed to go to a Shakespeare "mash-up" tonight. The thespians of Banshee are gathering for an evening of scenes, monologues and Bard-inspired mayhem.

I even have a monologue picked out and memorized. (Robyn says I have to read if I go.)

Yes, I said, "if."

How lame is it that I want to chicken out, go home, eat something tasty, have a glass of wine and read a book instead?

I'm pretty sure they wouldn't laugh at me if I sucked (maybe Dan would), but I would still know that I sucked. Better to just bugger off an forget the whole thing, right?

That's my rationalization anyway.

I keep making excuses like, it doesn't start until 7:30! And, I really need to do laundry. Pathetic.

You know that line from Wicked, "I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn and we are led to those that help us most to grow if we let them and we help them in return."

Well, yeah, the sentiment rocks, it's just getting myself to do it. Step outside the comfort zone, take a deep breath, and jump. "Defy gravity," as it were.

Well, here's the monologue one way or the other.

"If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended.
That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme no more yielding but a dream.
Gentles do not reprehend, if you pardon, we will mend
And as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck
Now to scape the serpents tongue,
We will make amends ere long
Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands if we be friends
And Robin will restore amends."
-A Midsummer Night's Dream

AKA The Anti-Umbridge League

Mother, Mother Ocean

My parents were in LA this past weekend and one of the two things my dear, sweet daddy wanted to do was go tide-pooling. I've lived in LA for over four years and I haven't been to the beach ONCE.

I know. This is sacrilege. I could be stoned in the streets.

Whatever. The beach is not my thing. I get sand in my eyes, my mouth, my contacts, and my pants. There are scary "beach people" there. You know the ones I mean! The bikini-wearing, breast-implant-baring, bottled-blond, snooty beach people who take over Santa Monica regularly. Shudder.

Well, with all the bitching and moaning in my head, I wasn't enthused about getting in the car for two hours there and two hours back and God only knew how many hours actually at the beach.

I've become too jaded in my Angeleno lifestyle.

The beach was beautiful. The water was freezing, the sky blue, and the children were jumping rope with seaweed. The seagulls were basking in the shallows and my daddy was clambering around on rocks like a big 6 year old, looking for anemones and starfish.

We watched the surfers and sailboarders bite the dust time and time again. We sat in the sand and I tried valiantly to ignore the bit that was down my pants. The waves crashed on the rocks and I found my inner Jimmy Buffett.

"Mother, mother ocean,
I have heard you call,
Wanted to sail upon your waters
since I was three feet tall.
You've seen it all, you've seen it all.

Watch the men who rode you,
Switch from sails to steam.
And in your belly you hold the treasure
that few have ever seen,
most of them dreams, Most of them dreams."

-A Pirate Looks at Forty

Friday Quote

"Why's a test-ban treaty so important? Let me tell you. In 1974, India set off a peaceful nuclear explosion. Indira Ghandi herself said they had no intention of building a bomb, they just wanted to know that they could. Twenty years later, India sets off five nuclear explosions. Who gets nervous? Pakistan. And when Pakistan gets nervous, everybody gets nervous. You know why? Cause we're all gonna die."
-The West Wing, "The Lame Duck Congress"

Picture Richard Schiff saying it in his brilliant way.

The Toothpick is Mightier Than the Sword

I heard about this last weekend and couldn't rest until I knew more!



Oh, the carnage!

Easter at the Banshee!

Now that I'm in my late twenties, Easter has lost quite a bit of the shine that it used to have. The endless flow of cheap candy and crap bubble gum doesn't appeal to me as it once did.

I remember fondly my large stuffed bunnies, wearing my brand new swim suits and sun dresses. But, no more. Easter is now about brunch, as I have mentioned before, and boy was it good!

Yesterday, though, I had a resurgence in the merriment! The fearless leaders of Theatre Banshee, boldly took it on themselves to create an adult Easter egg hunt for the cast and crew of Henry IV. They felt bad for making us do a show on a holiday... (Anybody else think it's funny that was had St. Patty's off, but had a show on Easter? Yeah, me too.)

And so I found myself standing outside the theatre at five minutes to noon, with a half dozen of my brethren elbowing their way to get closest to the door. They even fibbed to poor Fleur to try and get her to go home. The mob mentality was not improved by the evil, grinning figure of Sean peering out through the window, peaking his head out of the door, murmuring "T minus four minutes," and then scampering away again.

It must have been priceless to see us running like crazed maniacs when they finally opened the doors. The squealing and shrieking when one of us found an egg. The expletives when someone found an egg in a place that we'd thoroughly searched not ten seconds before. We were crawling around on our hands and knees, ransacking every square inch of the place (Yes, in fact, I did look in the toilet tanks, thank you very much), trying to find plastic eggs full of jelly beans. (JELLY BEANS for God's sake!)

The best part were the eggs that had slips of paper in them. Complete with Shakespearean quotes, naturally. Those, we took to Leslie and redeemed for corresponding prizes. We were afraid that we'd end up with the God-awful white elephants from Christmas parties of year's past. Fortunately, this wasn't the case. Robyn ended up with a box of See's chocolates, a box of See's suckers and some homemade garlic butter (Drool!). I ended up with two bottles of gourmet ale and a salami flavoured with chianti. We grabbed a baguette on the way home and had a damn fine Easter dinner.

Full points on ingenuity to Sean for hiding that egg in the coffee pot, in the leftover coffee grounds from Saturday night's show. And full points to me for thinking of looking there.

And full points to both Sean and Leslie for creating the most fun Easter I've had in years! Thanks, guys!

Springtime in Burbank

How do I know it's springtime in Burbank?

Well, aside from these lovely lily thingys (I've been informed that it's a clivia. Thanks, Mel!), there's the shrub of jasmine that I pass every morning that will be covered in blossoms by Easter morning.

There's the whiff of mock orange on the air as I walk home each night.

There's the fact that it keeps getting warmer and I don't need the electric mattress pad on my bed anymore.

There's the fact that Quincy has taken to sleeping curled up around the toilet and Brid has taken to napping in my closet.

All things that seem to indicate a change in season.

I have to say that I never particularly look forward to the summer. Either in L.A. or in Utah, for that matter. I hate being hot while I'm trying to sleep. Ick. I love sleeping with a jillion blankets on me and a cool breeze on my face.

One good thing about spring in Burbank, and mainly Easter in Burbank, is brunch at the beloved Smokehouse! Crab legs and shrimp as far as the eye can see, egg's benedict, crepes, prime rib, garlic cheese toast the color of... well nothing else is that orange, and free-flowing champagne at nine thirty on a Sunday morning. And, of course, my family away from my family.

Screw easter egg hunts, this is really how to celebrate a holiday. Well, that and a Star Wars egg decorating kit sent to me by my beloved mummy.

Since I have tomorrow off, I'll leave you with my Good Friday Quote! It's one of my favorite's from Henry IV, Part 1, although part of it is the way Jason says it.

"Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday last for a cup of madeira and a cold capon's leg?"

Happy Easter!

Friday Quote!

"You've got red on you."
-Shaun of the Dead

This *is* the droid you're looking for...

See this? A mailbox that looks like R2-D2? Is that awesome, or what?!

My auntie saw it recently and told me I had to check it out. It's right down the street from where I get on and off the bus.

I thought to myself, "Why is the post office making mailboxes look like droids?"

Well, I checked out their website today and found out that they've got stamps coming out for the 30th anniversary (!!!) of Star Wars. Some pretty cool ones, in fact. You can vote for your favorite. I couldn't decide between Yoda and the Millenium Falcon. (Yup, I'm still a geek.)

You can go about your business and may the force be with you.

And Yet...

I feel the need to post a slight addendum to my recent writings on the lack of awards for stage managers. At the Backstage West Garland Awards last night, I may not have been there to receive an award, and yet when the people I met heard I was a stage manager (and even more specifically, Theatre Banshee's stage manager) every single one of them expressed their admiration.

"Oh, that's such a hard job!"
"It's so hard to find a good stage manager!"
"Do you want to stage manage for MY company?! PLEASE?!"
"You did a really good job on (insert title here)! It was so smooth!"

Even the bartender was suitably impressed. And my dear friends, every time they introduced me to this director or that producer, they always introduced me as "Banshee's stage manager extraordinaire." Completely independent of each other.

I may not have gotten a certificate or a plaque last night, but I definitely got the vindication I was missing last week.

Friday Quote!

"Anti-wrinkle cream, there is. Anti-fat-bastard cream, there is not."
- The Full Monty

Pop, Pop, Pop

Bus drivers are fascinating people. There are a few "usuals" that I see on a regular basis. My favorites inclue The Popper, The Cougher, and That One Guy.

The Popper is a two hundred pound black woman who pops her gum constantly. Pop, pop, pop... Pop, pop, pop. All the way home. She's also exceedingly grouchy and nearly ran over a guy once who was just trying to put his bike on the rack on the front of the bus.

The cougher I always see in the mornings. She's been sick recently and her phlegmatic coughs are heard over the roar of U2 on my iPod. I sit far away from her, but she'll at least smile and say "Good morning" to me.

That One Guy waited for me for three minutes one morning. I was across the street, waiting for the light to change, so I didn't get run over by a Beemer. (More on that in a second.) He knew that I was usually there at that time of the morning, figured I was running late, and actually stalled, so I wouldn't miss the bus. How sweet is that?! Granted, he didn't wait long enough and I was still across the street when he left, but it's the thought that counts, right?

A slight tangent about getting run over by a BMW... About a month ago, I was crossing the street from the bus stop to go to the theatre. This was the night before Henry IV opened. I was about 5 feet from the curb and a BMW pulls up on my right, waiting to turn right. He rolled closer and closer, paying more attention to his cell phone than my flesh. I veered to my left a little, trying to avoid him, but he kept coming. He got within about 5 inches of my right knee before the bastard finally stopped. And the thing was, he looked at me as if to say, "What the hell are you doing crossing the street in front of my precious car?" I looked at him as if to say, "Asshole! Hang up your freakin' phone and drive your car!"

I got to the theatre and told Sean, the director, that I'd nearly been run over by a car and he said, "Didn't you tell this guy that if he'd hit you, I'd would have hunt him down and killed him?" We always made jokes about "You should have this key, in case I get hit by a bus." They don't seem so funny anymore.

And now for something completely out of left field. My fellow Banshees are attending the LA Drama Critics Circle Awards tonight and we've been nominated for two awards. Good luck, you guys!

I Feel Like This Sometimes Too

Do you ever have one of those days where you just NEED A DAMNED COOKIE?! And you CAN'T GET THE BAG OPEN?!

Watch this...

A SM's Real World

I am lovingly cocooned in my little stage managing world. Protected and buffered from the outside world by my lovely Banshees, but I got a dose of what it's really like for stage managers this week.

My fabulous theatre company had two productions last year and BOTH have won Backstage West Garland Awards for Best Ensemble. The reception for the winners is invitation only. I stage managed both of them, worked my ass off for both of them. Did I get an invitation to help my friends and colleagues celebrate in their time of glory? No. I kept thinking, "Surely, they'll include me!" But other people got their invites and my mailbox was empty. I have to say my heart broke just the tiniest bit when I realized I wasn't getting one.

My fellow Banshees know I was part of the ensemble. An extra penitent in the Magdalene laundries during Eclipsed and an extra docker slinging heaves in Dockers. An integral part of each show. I was at every rehearsal, every show, set all the props (stinky laundry and fake booze galore), ran the lights and the sound... You can tell I'm more than a little frustrated. The actors/director are always blissfully appreciative of the work I put in. The cast of Eclipsed even bought me a facial at a local spa after the show closed. But, not everyone is as classy as Banshee.

Fortunately, everyone who was invited gets to bring a "guest." So, I do get to go (I'll try not to be bitter), instead of sitting at home brooding in my pajamas, while eating chocolate ice cream out of the carton and watching bad re-runs.

I looked on the internet this morning and I can find a few measly awards for student SM's, but bupkiss for those of us in the "real world." No Garland Awards, no Ovation Awards, and certainly no Tony Awards. Designers? Bet your ass? Directors, producers, composers, actors? Of course, it goes without saying! If someone out there knows why SM's are so egregiously over-looked, please let me know.

Well, for myself and the other stage managers out there, who work our asses off and you know we've done a good job because they DON'T mention us in the reviews, know that we don't begrudge the actors their moment in the sun, just let us be there to lift a glass as well.

You Know You're Addicted to Coca-Cola When...

...you've gone cold turkey and contemplate french-kissing a gnarly old dude on the bus just because you see him drinking one and think you might be able to suck some off his tonsils.

Seriously.

Bacon-Scented Clowns Reading Emma

My friends are weird. Yup. Weird, weird, weird.

What's that? You say I'm weird too? Otherwise, I wouldn't hang out with them, let alone think they're hysterically funny? What the hell do you know?!

Whew! OK, I'm done being defensive, swear to God. Mel Torme is singing "Blue Moon" to me and it's calming me right down. Sigh.

How are my friends weird, you ask? Well, I'm establishing my stance with the evidence of the presents they give me. Take for the first example, a birthday present from last year. My gorgeous friend Susan gave me a bottle of (good) champagne, a plastic tiara and earrings set, a Target giftcard, and a bacon-scented air freshener. Yes, my friends, you did read that right. A bacon shaped and scented air freshener. I haven't had the guts to open it yet. But it makes me smile everytime I look at it. Thanks, Suz!

Second point. My sweet Auntie gave me The Pop-Up Book of Phobias a few Christmas' ago. Not only does it faithfully describe a good many terrifying things, they pop right out at you. (I'll have to go into my hatred of clowns in another post. Clowns, E.T., snakes, and Gone with the Wind. Shudder.) Weird, yes. But supremely cool. Love you, Puddin'!

And then for my last birthday, my Puddin's fiance, Josh gave me a Jane Austen action figure. Complete with quill, copy of Pride & Prejudice, and karate chop action. OK, so I fibbed about the karate chop bit, but the rest is true. I mean, let's face it, when we all think of ACTION, the first person who comes to mind is Jane Austen! She'll pop a cap in your ass if you don't behave in a gentlemanlike manner. You rock, Uncle Josh! :)

So, all in all these guys are... wait, do you smell that? All of a sudden, I have this craving for ham.

The Little Things

I love so many things about living in Burbank and I discovered even more after my car croaked a few months ago. One of my favorite parts of the day is walking the block and a half home from the bus station after work. I get off right in front of Warner Brothers and there's a wonderful two story gallery/hallway that edges one of their buildings.

Listening to my iPod and strolling home helps me decompress. Even the bus ride and waiting at the bus stop is vaguely therapeutic. After the hallway, there's a little green courtyard.

In the morning, I get to see my very favorite part. For years I was a huge fan of Animaniacs. I mean that was how I remembered the states and their capitals! I remember the first time I went to Universal Studios and looked down into the San Fernando Valley and saw the WB water tower. I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. I have to say some of that still sticks even now that I live within spitting distance of it. Here's my kick-ass view of it while walking to the bus stop.

I've got a pretty rockin' view from the bus stop in the mornings too. This is looking back from the direction I've walked. The big arch you can see there is the same hallway from above. You can see how tall it is. I also get to see the posters for whatever movies are approaching. In this case, what new mistake has Gerard Butler made?

This is my view out of the window that's across from my desk. Not too shabby.

And this is the sunset one day last week, just as I was leaving the office. Would I have noticed it if I was driving a car? Maybe. Would it have stopped me in my tracks and made me smile? Probably not. The sunset this Monday was bright pink. Think Maxfield Parrish.

I will be happy to get my car back, but until then I'll enjoy the little things.

Monday Quotes!

"Would you... dance with me?"
"Now? On the eve of your revolution?"
"A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having."
- V for Vendetta

"Is everything a joke to you, Gordon?"
"Only the things that matter."
- V for Vendetta

To Boldly Go... Where?

Recently, I ordered some Star Trek DVD's on Amazon. (Voyager, if you must know. After all, the captain's name is Kathryn.) I bought them used, since they're so freaking expensive (Thanks, Paramount!). When they arrived, the packing slip was in Chinese. Fine by me, as long as I can read the menus on the DVD's. Here comes the hitch, you can read the menus, but you can't turn the Closed Captions off. They're either in English or Chinese.

If I watch something with Closed Captions, I read the captions and forget about watching the movie or whatever. I've left them in Chinese, because that way I can at least ignore them. Slightly irritating, but not insurmountable.

The most amusing part however is the packaging. I'm not talking about the hugely cheesy plastic envelopes INSIDE the normal looking case. I'm talking about the writing on the back of the box. The titles of the episode are randomly capitalized and randomly incorrect. My personal favorite is the episode "Demon" being spelled "Semon" instead. Spell check, anyone?

But now, I come to the best part of all. The blurb on the back. I'm going to attempt to recreate it exactly as it is. Here goes...

Navigator's number of warship of star headed by first women captain precious Wei, fall into an enormous cavity , is thrown and united 70,000 mere distant place from the star , for solve energy problem, precious Wei captain lead team member go rascal celestial body survey energy, unexpectedly, Nilles is attacked, the lung is siphoned away fast; Find the celestial body person's corpse of grade a lot of 5 on the globular asteroid; Pursue gram commandant injured attack that energy flow with card tower , navigator number face unidentified energy shed attack, a large amount of energy run off, unidentified other star seize the opportunity , slip into airship, team member supervise unprecedented challenge ....

If I were a die-hard Trekkie, I'd probably be pissed off. As it is, I just think it's fUnmy.

Friday Quotes!

"Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction."
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"I was destined for this vantage point
Which is so far from the Sea
I've lived it in the pages of Saint-Exupery

From Paris to Tunisia
Casablanca to Dakar
I was riding long before I flew
Through the wind and sand and stars."
-Jimmy Buffett, Far Side of the World

Friday Quote!

"There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few that will catch your heart. Pursue those."
- Unknown

Does that count as a Valentine?

When I got to rehearsal last night, I met Robyn and we walked down the street to Porto's (a cuban deli/bakery. I love LA!) for a treat. She'd been at the dentist for two and a half hours and needed a pick-me-up.

As we walked, we came closer to a woman (I think) who was hobbling along in front of us. "She" was wearing a platinum wig (possibly), hauling a gigantic wheeled suitcase, sporting a bandaged foot, and waving a cane. And cackling to herself under her breath. She crossed the street in front of us and passed a car that was idling at the stop sign. For some reason, she started laughing hysterically at the driver. As we passed the car, we could see the driver snickering to himself and he leaned out the window and wished us a "Happy Valentine's Day."

As we gave "her" a wide berth to pass her, we heard, "Are you two lesbians? Cause you look like lesbians.... Ew!" And then, swear to God, she shrieked.

Now Robyn and I have figured that people think this about us frequently. Especially when I wear my black leather biker jacket. We usually think it's amusing, and we did last night too, but only after it had a bit to sink in. It was the crowning jewel on our Valentine's Day. I have to say, Robyn is awesome, but she's not Velntine material. For some nice guy out there, perhaps, but not for me.

Thank God Valentine's Day is over for another year.

Holiday or the Sixth Circle of Hell?

I intensely dislike Valentine's Day. Perhaps because I've never been lucky enough to have one ON Valentine's Day... Perhaps because I think it's an asinine contrivance of the greeting card and chocolate companies. Perhaps because it's another pagan holiday that has been twisted into something hardly recognizable. Whatever the reason, for me it's where hell and holidays collide. (That's what my Valentine for Robyn said anyway.)

It helps that it's my dear sweet mummy's birthday, so at least I always had someone to have dinner with. I'm trying not to be too bitter today, but I'm failing rather miserably. I asked the cat to be my Valentine this morning and he just tried to wash his nether regions. Not exactly what I was hoping for, in more ways than one.

I'm thrilled that I have rehearsal tonight. It'll serve nicely as a distraction. Maybe the men of Banshee can be my collective Valentine.

XOXO

'Til Spontaneous Combustion Do We Part

My dear Auntie is getting married. I'm supremely excited for her. She's marrying one of the best men I know and they're completely gone over each other.

The only thing that concerns me is her choice of friends. They're pretty questionable. I mean she herself is an atheist. As is the man performing the ceremony. The groom comes from a pretty devout family, but the last time they were forced into going to church with his family, he spent it pointing out the dirtier passages in the Bible. And then there's that certain bride's maid. The one with the red hair and the bizarre sense of humor. She's a wiccan! And the bride's sister? The red head's mother? Her too!

Someone's going to need to stand close to the altar with a fire extinguisher for when we all burst into flames.

Hopefully we won't competely terrorize the groom's family or the remnants of the bride's that are still so proud of their faith. We'll just keep the wiccan thing quiet...

*Please recognize the tongue in cheek of this post. I dearly love my atheist, Buddhist, Daoist, wiccan, Christian friends. The variety makes life interesting and I certainly mean no offense to any of them.

Monday Quote

"The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore... unlike the mediocre, intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that seem impossible... it is with an iron will that they embark on the most daring of all endeavors... to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the unknown."
-Ferdinand Magellan

"You know, if you don't want to run again, I respect that. But if you don't run because you think it's gonna be too hard or you think you're gonna lose, well, God, Jed, I don't even want to know you."
-The West Wing, "Two Cathedrals"

"Don't give in, don't give up, but give thanks for the glorious fight."
-The Scarlet Pimpernel

"Iaith" is Language in Welsh

So, now that we're "off book" for Henry, I get a new job. During rehearsal, I follow along in my script and when one of the actors can't remember what comes next, they say, "Line" and I give the next bit to them.

That's all well and good, but part of Henry takes place in Wales in the home of Owen Glendower and his daughter, Lady Mortimer. At the moment, Glendower is my favorite character in the play. He keeps talking about how the earth moved when he was born and how he can "call spirits from the vasty deep." He's hysterical. Anyway, back to my story. Lady M is being played by my roommate Robyn and the whole joke is that her character speaks no English and her husband, Lord Mortimer speaks no Welsh. Glendower is constantly translating for them.

Well, at one point last week, my friend John, who's playing Glendower, was trying to remember the line, "Rhaid i ti aros a chanlyn gyde mi." So, of course, he called for the line. Well, he and Robyn have been learning Welsh. They even went to a Welsh church service! Robyn even gets to SING in Welsh. But me, I don't speak Welsh. Robyn had told me before that rehearsal that she might have to call for a line and I should read it as best I could and she'd know what I was getting at. So, when John called for it, I attempted to give it to him. I butchered it all the way to hell and back and prompted quite a bit of laughter from all of the cast and the director. Sean said it was the best line prompt he'd ever heard. John applauded me for giving it a try.

Maybe you had to be there, but it's definitely a story to be added to the theatre annals.

Drunk as a Rule

Five of my good friends have formed a band. That's right. An uproarious, foot-stomping, hand-clapping "five guys shouting" band. They call themselves Slugger O'Toole (who was "drunk as a rule") and their first gig was this past Saturday night. They kicked ass!

They formed last September, just as a whim to help Theatre Banshee with our fundraiser. Then, they were called "The Dedications," for obvious reasons. Well, the boys enjoyed themselves SO much, they thought they'd give it a real shot.

If you happen to be in the LA area for St Patrick's Day, they're headlining at O'Brien's pub in Santa Monica! 9pm, be there or be square. (For nothing less then these guys would I go anywhere near Santa Monica, especially on St. Patrick's Day!) As president of the Slugger O'Toole fan club, I will certainly be there.

Soon, they'll have a MySpace page. I'll post a link when it's up and running. For now, check out a couple of my pictures from the concert on Saturday!

A Friday Quote for Ang

I read your Return of the King post, Ang, and wanted you to know you're not the only geek out there. This is for you!

"Then a great beauty was revealed in him, so that all who after came there looked on him in wonder; for they saw that the grace of his youth, and the valour of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together. And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world."
-The Return of the King, Appendix A by John Ronald Ruell Tolkien

It's talking about Aragorn instead of Legolas, but whatever. :)

"I profess not talking."

Last night was one of my least-favorite stage managing rehearsals. It was the Off Book Day. For those who are unfamiliar with the term, it's the day when you have to put down your script and had damn well better have memorized your lines. (Or risk pissing off the stage manager, who can make your life a living hell for the next few months. I'm just saying.) It involves much stopping and swearing and pausing and general frustration. We've reached the point where not much else can be done until people know the words. There are a couple of things that are making it harder this time around, though.

First, it's Shakespeare, so there's a hell of a lot of words.

Second, one of our actor's got a paying gig and had to excuse himself. Good for him, but grr all the same.

Third, he was playing Falstaff. (One of the biggest and most important roles in the play.) Not a role that you can re-cast from any dude who wanders in off the street.

Fortunately, one of our co

mpany actors cut his vacation short and has saved the day. (Thanks, Barry!)

My friend Josie gave me
the last part of my birthday/Christmas present last weekend. It's a shirt with a medieval crest on it and says, "Going Medieval on You." I wore it yesterday (See photo at left.) as warning to my actors of what would happen if they don't learn their lines. I've found threats to be very useful in the past. We'll see how it fares this time.

*The quote "I profess not talking." is from Henry IV, Part 1, naturally.

Company, villainous company...

... hath been the spoil of me.

It's true. I'm spoiled. And I realized it recently when Theatre Banshee began rehearsals for Henry IV, Part 1. I was sitting in our first read-through, trying to analyse Shakespeare's words. There were times when I thought, "What the hell is he talking about?!" And there were times when it all made perfect sense. It came to me that the difference was who was speaking the lines.

The better the actor, the more I could understand it and the more I felt the emotion behind it. I've spent so much time around excellent actors that now when I'm faced with someone normal, it becomes blatantly obvious. I'm very jaded now.

And I find that I'm OK with that. Surrounding myself with exceptional artists can't be a bad thing, can it? It's not hurting anyone. I do my best to nurture and support all the actors I come into contact with. The rockin' ones don't get preferential treatment over the merely good ones. I work just as hard to help all of them learn their lines. I don't hide props from anyone. (Well, unless they really piss me off.) I yell at all of them equally for being late or missing a cue.

Although, if I didn't witness the "good" actors, the kick-ass ones wouldn't be so kick-ass. Ah hell, bring them all on! Just keep the crappy ones away. :) I have no worries about that. We'd never cast someone who couldn't hold their own among the best of them.

For this play they have to be able to wield a sword as well as act. We've got some excellent fight choreographers who've been helping us with that. By the time we open, we'll be able to have a full-on broadsword battle on our miniscule stage. I can't wait!

Monday Quotes!

Today, I bring you a selection of quotes from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

"It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world."

"And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

"For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry...although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

"I take my hat off to you--or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you with spiders."

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

"You can try," said Harry indifferently. "But you seem cleverer than Fudge, so I'd have thought you'd have learned from his mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed he's not Minister anymore, but Dumbledore's still headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore alone, if I were you."

Friday Quote!

OK, so it's more than one. Sue me. :)

I've got a rather eclectic mix of quotes for this Friday.

"For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry, 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"
-Henry V

"If you intend to sail to the weird and haunted shoals at world's end, you will need a captain who knows those waters."
"So, tell me, what's become of my ship?"
-Pirates of the Caribbean: Dean Man's Chest

"You know, I bet this is why [wife] number two came after you with a nine iron, isn't it? You just refused to sit down and talk things through."
"Actually, that wasn't it at all."
"So, what was it then?"
"Seven iron."
-NCIS, "Enigma"
(I love Mark Harmon.)

"From birth to age 18, a girl needs good parents. From 18-35, she needs good looks. From 35-55, she needs a good personality. And from 55 on, she needs cash."
-Sophie Tucker

Have a good weekend, cherubs!

Prince Charles?! No...

OK, this is the funniest clip from The Daily Show that I've ever seen. And I've seen some really good ones! I found it on YouTube yesterday and thought it would be good to share. I would have posted it directly to here, but I'm still trying to figure out how to do that... Anybody have suggestions? Ang?
Anyway, here's the link to it! Enjoy!
God, I love Stephen Colbert!

Friday Quote!

"A book is a mysterious object, I said, and once it floats out into the world, anything can happen. All kinds of mischief can be caused, and there's not a damned thing you can do about it. For better or worse, it's completely out of your control."
- Paul Auster

Happy New Year!

Turn Around Three Times and Spit

I read an article yesterday about superstitions and the theatre. I found it on wikipedia when I was wondering about the origins of calling Macbeth "The Scottish Play."

For those who don't know, it's exceedingly bad luck to speak the name Macbeth in a theatre. There have been many stories over the years of theatre's burning down and going out of business, actors and friends having accidents or even dying. Some say it started with the first production of Macbeth, when some prop knives were accidentally replaced with real ones and an actor dies. (For a very amusing time, you can watch the Blackadder III episode "Sense & Senility.")

I made the mistake, early in my stage managing days, of thinking it was all a load of crap and that no one took it seriously. I was standing on the stage setting props for our show and we were talking about that story. In my foolishness, I spoke the word itself and found a flurry of angry actors pouncing on me. They made me go outside, turn around three times, and spit over my left shoulder. Swear to God. It's supposed to exorcise whatever demons are conjured up by mentioning the Scotsman.

Just like that episode of The West Wing where Sam "tempts the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing" on election day and they make him go outside and spit too... Sorry, that's the geek in me talking.

I don't normally consider myself a superstitious person, but when I think of all my "rituals" at the theatre, I find I have to reconsider. I have to sit in the same seat for every rehearsal. Everything has to be in it's place in the booth. (This could be superstition, or it could just be because I'm anal.) We have a basket that has to be somewhere on stage for all of our productions. The one time it wasn't, the show didn't do nearly as well as all the others have. We have a St. Brigid's cross that has been on almost all of the sets.

Usually, I'm perfectly willing to walk under a ladder, but I always stop myself from doing it when I'm at the theatre.

It's amazing the crazy stuff actors do for good luck. But, I figure that if it works, who am I to call them on it?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find my four leaf clover.

I Love Gobble Day!

"We don't give thanks in England. We mourn the loss of the colonies."
-Hugh Laurie

There are many things I dearly love about Thanksgiving. I love the memories of going to get the turkey at the turkey farm with Grandfather. He'd somehow talk me into having a calf suck on my finger. We'd stand in front of the turkey pen and say, "Gobble! Gobble!" And all the turkeys would gobble back at us. (For more on that, read my Auntie's blog post Becky in the Straw!)

I love sitting in my PJ's, watching the Macy's Parade. The Broadway stuff is always my favorite. And marvelling at the Rockettes!

I love breaking bread for the stuffing the night before. Ordering pizza and succumbing to the zen quality of reducing three loaves of bread into fingernail sized pieces. Watching GM mix the herbs and melted butter. Sneaking pieces of the herby, salty goodness to munch on.

I love naming the turkey and freaking out my family.

Setting the table and trying to figure out how on Earth I can squeeze that many people at a table that big. Pulling out all the fancy dishes and wine glasses. Finding the gravy boat, the mashed potato bowl, the stuffing bowl, and the nice butter dishes.

I love trying to keep the gravy off my roll. I love making a perfect divot in my potatoes, putting in the butter, covering it up, and waiting for it to melt. I love covering the whole piece of pie with whipped cream, so every bite has an equal amount on it. I love the shiny jeweled quality of a can of cranberry sauce, still ribbed from the can.

I love the lethargy that comes after eating SO MUCH food.

I love leftovers on Friday.

I loved that year when the power went out and we ate by candlelight. I love that we were seriously considering whipping the cream with a cordless drill and a whisk attachment.

I love GM's stuffing, Robyn's brussel sprouts, Susan's carrots, Josh's pie, and anybody's mashed potatoes.

I love my family and friends.

Ohana

I've known for years that the members of Theatre Banshee are my home away from home and my extended family, but in the past week it's been hammered home.

It's been a while since I've been on a date. But a week and a half ago, I met a really good guy who liked me enough to actually ask me out.

Well, the people of Banshee had pretty much two reactions. The women all wanted to know what he looks like and if he's funny. The men all wanted to know who this guy was, if they had met him before, and what he does for a living. (One of them was teasing me for going on a date with anyone, without having received approval of the guy first.)

I'm pretty sure all of them would be willing to pummel this guy with a baseball bat if he does anything to hurt me. (As I would be perfectly willing to do the same for them, were they in that situation.)

They were all very excited for me beforehand and wanted to know all the details afterwards. Hell, I even got a call from one of them DURING the date! (No, I didn't answer it! I got the voicemail when I got home. They were building our set at the theatre and wanted to know all the sordid details.)

I never had siblings growing up, but now at 26, I find I have almost twenty of them. I have to say, I really like it.

I am a GENIUS! . . . Wait . . . No, I'm not.

Years ago, I went through what some would call a "phase." Others would call it an obsession. Whatever you'd choose to call it, I was an obscenely huge fan of The Scarlet Pimpernel. Tangent: For those that don't know the story, let me enlighten you. The Scarlet Pimpernel is one of the very first super heroes. An aristocrat who disguises whimself to save innocents from the guillotine during the French Revolution. He acts like a fop at home in England to throw people off his scent. OK, end of tangent. The books (which kick-ass, by the way), the movies (which don't, really. OK, except for the 1932 Leslie Howard one. That's not too bad.), and the musical (which was nominated for two Tony awards). I even flew to New York, with my dear friend Kathy, to see the musical on Broadway. My geekness extends far beyond that, but my dignity won't stand the telling anymore.

My point is that I wrote some stories set in the Pimpernel universe. What's known as fanfiction, or fanfic, for you normal people out there. At the time, they seemed to be brilliant! They could stand up next to any other stories out there! In my head, I was up there with Arthur Conan Doyle, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Baroness Orczy herself! (She wrote The Scarlet Pimpernel and the many sequels that came after.)

I posted all of them to my juvenile website. (No, I will NOT tell you what the address is!) Recently, in a lull at my fantastic new job, I went back to read them again.

Wow.

I won't say they suck. But, damn, they're not NEARLY as OK as I remember! Apparently, the gap of . . . seven years has distorted my writing prowess hugely.

Now, I will say that I know I've improved. There are a few other stories that I wrote a couple of years after the whole Pimpernel thing. I went back to read them too, hoping to God that the same fate hadn't befallen them. (They're on at least one website that's MUCH more frequently visited than my poor excuse.) I am glad to say that they're actually BETTER than I remember them being. Woo hoo!

So, there it is. Proof that we're not perfect when we're teenagers. Believe me, I know I'm not perfect now, either, but at least I'm improving.

Which Pirates of the Caribbean character am I?

I don't know if this is particularly true, but it's cool anyway!



Which Pirates of the Caribbean character are you?

Inside the room of my soul...

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are very passionate and quite temperamental. While you can be moody, you always crave comfort. You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. You feet may be on the ground, but you're head is in the clouds. You believe that people see you as a bit small and insignificant. People pay more attention to you than you think. Your near future is still unknown, and a little scary. You'll get through wild times - and you'll textually enjoy it. For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Holy Hell!

Well, my cherubs, I have a new job!

I've been working at 1-800-Dentist for three and a half years now and tomorrow is my last day!

My friend Melissa has sucked me into her world!

My commute will be a fraction of what it is now and I'll get more money. I can't see anything bad about this!

Hopefully this means I will have more time to blog! Hopefully, this also means that I will have new amusing material. Of course, I've just gone into rehearsal for Theatre Banshee's next show Dockers and that's always a good source of fodder for the fire.

With the hope that you'll be hearing more from me, I'll leave it there.

-Kati

"Mastering yourself makes you fearless."
-Lao Tzu

You're On Notice!

And Hummers are DEAD TO ME!

The Thunder From Where?!

So, my Grandmother's 80th birthday is quickly approaching. And you know how she's going to celebrate? I love this! My mom, my Grandmother, and two of their friends are driving to Wendover, Nevada (no gambling in Utah, pumpkin) to spend the night. They've got a fancy schmancy suite with a jacuzzi big enough for four people. They've got spending money for the slot machines and Keno bar.

And they have lots of one dollar bills.

You want to know why?

They're going to see The Thunder From Down Under!!! Yup. The strippers from Australia! Four grown women in their fifties (and eighties!) going to the nine o'clock show. (The eleven o'clock is too far past their bedtime.)

Grandmother even has to miss the opera for it. She has season tickets and poor Grandfather has to take someone else, while his wife of almost sixty years goes to see the men in thongs.

I love my family!

Apologies!

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. Life is rich and full. That's my way of saying that I hardly have time to breath, let alone post to my blog!

I've been working a little OT at my job, a little part time for the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, recording a CD for the same (An Even Scarier Solstice coming in October!), preparing for our take over of the theatre, and working my normal job as well. Whew!

I have a couple od extremely good stories that are lurking in my head, though. Not the least of which is regarding my Grandmother's approaching 80th birthday party.

So, I beg you to bare with me a little longer and I'll make it worth your while.

Theatre Banshee and The Banshee!

Well, my friends, my theatre company Theatre Banshee now has its very own theatre!

We've been renting our current space for the last 11 years and love it dearly. Two weeks ago, we had an emergency meeting and found out that the people who were in control of the lease want it no more and would much rather WE kept it, than having it turn into a tire store.

Now, this is no small thing. Many more responsibilities, much more work, and the ever-present idea of financial doom looming over our heads.

We tossed questions back and forth, debated, and argued. In the end what it came down to was that if we let it go, we'd have to find a new space. Finding a crappy theatre in L.A. is hard enough, let alone one that is as good as this one. (Aside from the fact, that we've got a lot of great memories from it.)

We also figured that if the people who used to control the lease could do it, then we could it better!

And so, one month from today, we take possession of The Banshee in Burbank.

The exorcism can begin. The painting, the cleaning, the scourging fire, etc.

I feel inspired! Bring it on!

Monday Quote

"I win. You lose. Twas ever thus."
-The West Wing, The U.S. Poet Laureate

Monday Quote

"The bally balliness of it all is so very bally bally."
-Jeeves & Wooster

Monday Quote!

Here's Monday's Quote in advance...

"Pray to your tasty chicken god, my friend, for the dinner bell tolls for thee."
- Get Fuzzy

(That's Bucky Katt to a bug-eyed chicken, right befores he gets his ass kicked by said chicken.)

The Dark Knight vs. The Man of Steel

Being that I saw Superman Returns this past weekend (or Super-Duper Man as my friend Melissa calls it...) and am inordinately fond of Batman Begins, I figured the time was ripe for a debate on who's better. Just for my own amusement, really, and because I'm leaving town for a week.

So, folks, have it out. Who kicks more super-villain ass? Who looks better in his super-suit?

Batman. No ifs ands or buts about it. Batman is the best. I mean, he has to WORK for his superhero status. He has to workout to keep in shape. He has to invent all his faboo little gadgets.

Superman just is. Cheater. Wave a little kryptonite in his face and he's screwed.

Take away Batman's utility belt and he can still pummel you into the ground with his fists.

Besides, with Batman's dark side and tortured past, you get a very human element. Sure, some people will argue that the destruction of Krypton wasn't exactly a walk in the park for Superman, but for my own purposes, I'll just ignore that. After all, this is my blog.

I'll take Gotham over Metropolis any day.

Monday Quote!

In honor of the 4th of July...

John Adams: "What will people think?"

Benjamin Franklin: "Don't worry, John. The history books will clean it up."

John Adams: "I won't appear in the history books, anyway. Only you. Franklin did this, Franklin did that, Franklin did some other damn thing. Franklin smote the ground and out sprang George Washington, fully grown and on his horse. Franklin then electrified him with his miraculous lightning rod and the three of them - Franklin, Washington, and the horse - conducted the entire revolution by themselves."
- 1776