Best concert, best play

I bet you have a billion categories you can put these into, too.

The best concert experience I ever had was actually a whole summer of NKOTB. Going first to Milwaukee, then to Chicago when I was 15 with three friends. Chicago was two nights in a row. My parents took us up there and got a hotel for us. Now that I am grown, I can see where they were really good people for doing that. No way would I put up with four teenage girls on a mission to meet a band. We had front row seats the second night (my friend's mom worked the ticketmaster), and we were in teen hormone heaven. Later that summer we went to South Bend to see them again and managed to sneak up to the front rows again. We stayed at the same hotel they did and thought we were so damn cool. Of course we only met their opening act, but we thought we were the bomb. Now I watch Jordan Knight on The Surreal Life and realize what a jagmo he is. Oh, my future husband, how you hath forsaken me.

Now of course as an adult, I can say that seeing REM and Billy Joel in the early 90's was amazing. So was the Cure. First time I saw people smoke pot in real life. :) But now, I much prefer chilling at a Carrie Newcomer concert. She's absolutely the best storytelling songwriter I have ever seen. And a cool person to boot.

Plays? Where do I start? It's much easier to say I have just seen so much CRAP. With most of my friends in the theatre, we all go to see each other, even if we're cast in CRAP. Which is what typically happens. Lots of "you were so good, but..."

I'm a Les Mis whore. Seen it five times. I'm a Javert groupie. Going around back and getting autographs when I was 18 was probably the best theatre experience of my life. The actors really encouraged me to go for my dreams and study theatre. That it was a worthwhile and do-able profession.

But the best actual play I saw was in London. The Reduced Shakespeare Company doing Shakespeare Abridged. Three guys from California. I also got to go out for a pint with the actors afterward by going around backstage for autographs. I am such a whore. :)

Bitten by the Acting Bug

Ah, a good question. When did I get bitten? Hm...I have been a hammy kid since I could speak. My mom tells me so. My mother was a dancer, so there may be something to this. I was "putting on shows" since I was 5...I wrote plays for school and put them on all through gradeschool. The best was a "Women of the War" play in the fifth grade. Clara Barton, etc. I got social studies' credit for it. :O) I danced and sang in the basement to the "Grease" 8 Track, put on my mom's old costumes and did ballet to the classical station on the radio, and sold tickets to my lipsynch shows. 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton was a huge hit.

I didn't get a real gig though, until I was 11. I had been taking dance since I was 8, and my studio got a callout for little girls to audition for the orphans in Oliver at the local community theatre. A bunch of us went and auditioned, and were cast as little boys. The boy who was cast as Oliver was a cute blonde 13 year old named Jeramy (perhaps some of you have heard of him), but that's another story entirely.

After that show, I really couldn't get enough. I auditioned for the talent shows (8th grade...I danced to "Hungry Eyes"...I ran into an old teacher who still remembers that damn dance), plays, anything I could do. In high school I was in all the plays (as soon as I quit cheerleading...they wouldn't let me do both), and figured I'd move to NYC upon graduation and try to make it there.

Fortunately for me, I decided last minute to put off being on my own and went to a college session. Butler had theatre, and they'd pay me to do it. So I went to school in Indy and kept on acting. I never left. NYC still calls to me occasionally, but that Damn Jeramy came back into the picture when I was 19 and changed everything.

:)

Ask me a question!

I seriously have nothing to say. I have been sitting here for 10 minutes going "Man, I really should blog about something. Anything. I haven't said much lately."

And I still am coming up empty. For today I refuse to bitch about how I am up ANOTHER 5 pounds since "losing my pg weight" and I refuse to whine about how my son continues to get up at least twice a night to eat. I won't bore the masses with whines about my husband who is starting a group meeting on Wednesday nights leaving me home with the kids all day and night until 10:30pm. On bath night.

So ask me something. I'll answer it in a blog worth reading. :)

So much hatred

I had an hourlong vent last night. It was all about hatred. I am apparently filled with venom and consumed by hatred. Of course we ended up in giggles once we realized how crazy I was sounding, but I digress...

It started after our viewing of Farenheit 911. An incredible piece of film. Was there an agenda? Yep. Did MM twist and edit to fit it? Yep. But the fact remains that this administration has lied to the American Public. They are not looking out for our welfare, but for personal gain and profit. W is a smarmy jackass. It doesn't matter what comes out of his mouth, most likely some crap pat answer surrounded by "uhs" and "ums", he just oozes self importance and smugness.

As we continued to discuss the movie, I began pontificating on how I can't believe any educated person can actually continue to support this administration. Then I elaborated that thought to pinpoint women, the elderly and minorities. I mean, how can you be a GAY Republican?? Seriously. The whole thought was summed up by "Fucking Gay Republicans", which had me giggling. Respect to my Repub. friends, esp the girls to the right on this blog, but I still don't get it.

I moved on to something else I HATE HATE HATE right now...those frigging ribbon stickers. Plastered on your SUV. Support our troops, support breast cancer research, God Bless the USA, support the troops *with* breast cancer...blah blah blah. We get it. Pick a cause, will ya? And what I hate more than that? When cars put a couple on the back, but sideways...they look like those damn Jesus Fish.

Which brought me to another conclusion: it's a right wing code, isn't it? God Bless the USA with my Jesus fish-resembling ribbon sticker, placed just above my Bush/Cheney '04 sticker, just to the left of my Abortion stops a beating heart sticker. Are they speaking in code to each other through bumper stickers?

Don't get me wrong. I am an equal opportunity hater. I hate those banger cars that have 24 stickers on the back screaming we need to Free Tibet, Imagine Whirrled Peas, and Support Greenpeace. Freaking treehuggers.

As I lay in bed making my points to my husband, I exclaim that it's freaking cold in the house. This makes me angry, as I have to wear socks and pants to bed. Which I HATE to do. Why am I forced to do this? Because gas prices are high, I have to lower my heat to save money, and damn that Bush for fucking around with my economy so that I am forced to wear socks to bed.

Do you see where this is going? I can come up with a list a mile long of the things I am hating right now. My list of things I am loving is so much shorter, and that is sad. This election has my panties all wadded up, as does the crappy weather, shorter days, and this sore throat I have acquired because I took my socks off in the middle of the night last night, cold be damned.

This much venom isn't healthy, I tell you. I need someone to blame this on.
Fucking Gay Republicans.

That's it! The TV is off for good!

So I'm watching Mean Girls, right? Funny fucking movie. One I want the Princess to see when she's old enough to be smack in the middle of the hell of highschool. She comes in and sees the girls dancing at the Christmas talent show. If you haven't seen the movie, they are wearing something akin to a Fredricks of Hollywood Santa costume, with PVC knee high, high heel boots.

She says "ooh, mom, can I have an costume like that? Only in kid size."
I say, "um, no." Actually, thinking Oh HELL no.
Princess asks why, I say "because those are hootchie clothes."

And she says "but mom, I wanna be a hootchie!"

I'm officially an internet dork

I have some really good friends, see? For more than six years now. They were with me through my engagement, my wedding, my high risk pregnancy, the subsequent PPD and mental breakdown, my marital woes and career highs and lows, the next pregnancy, and everything inbetween. These friends...they send me Christmas cards and baby gifts. I have pictures of their children posted all over my home. I know who has a husband with an overactive sex drive, who really wishes they'd never married, and who's mother-in-law rivals my own in absolute craziness.

I am meeting up with a lot of these friends this weekend. 22 of them, in fact. Of the 22, I've already met more than half of them in person. Of the 22, I consider most of them closer to me than my real life friends. College is over, my RL friends have mostly married and moved away. Here is what I have left:

Internet Friends.

God love each and every one of them. I think I'd have long ago jumped off a cliff if I hadn't these remarkable women to lean on.

Oh, and if you'd like to meet them, a lot of them can be found if you just click on the tags to the right. They're damn cool. You should know them, too.