Exit Stage Right.

Another show down and notched in my belt.

I’m kind of sad about it.  I put a lot of time and energy into making it my own and being the best possible Gillian I could be. . . and judging from people’s responses, I was a pretty good Gillian.

So Yay!

I really enjoyed this character for some reason. . .I don’t know if it’s because of the whole “witch” aspect. . . or because they made me wear that wig and hot pants. . .(which by the way, and this will probably be the 1st time I ever admit this. . .but I gotta say, my ass looked fantastic in those hotpants!  Tsssssss!)  Or if it was just her whole transformation into being human.

I can’t say that I related with her all that much. . I mean, I do admire her straight forwardness and honesty. . . Keeping it real. . yet at the same time, I don’t think there was much of a silly side to her.  All business and no nonsense.

That was Gillian.

However, Once her feelings for Shep developed, we saw a softening. . . a weakening.  Not in character or morals. . .but one of that wall she had around her to protect her little heart.

I can dig that.  In fact I dig it on a daily basis.

So maybe I can relate to her more that I originally thought.

I now find myself with out anything to occupy my time.  I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.

I mean, I could find another show to do. . . Though i am not sure I want to jump right back into another one.  I kind of like the feeling of riding the closure of this one out.  I mean, I gotta say. . . I just feel really. . . I dunno. . . calm like? 


That’s the word I am looking for.

I REALLY enjoyed the process this time through.  I may have stressed out about learning all my lines, but you know what?  I learned them.  I gave them meaning. . . and made them my own.  I’m not saying I don’t normally do so. . but, I dunno.  This time around, I just feel so appreciative of the process, and thankful that the opportunity came about when it did.

The cast was great. . .I really respected the director and the choices he made in regards to the show, the actual theater was really nice. ….I could bitch about the dumb ass stage manager, but in the end. . . who cares? 

I also received a nice write up in a local paper here, which I was pretty stoked about. 


I have to say that while we didn’t play out to sold out houses, or thunderous applause. . . I am quite proud of the work we did. . . and the growth I’ve made.

I sort of feel like one of those serious “theater actor thespian” people.

ehhh.. almost.


Good Review, An Award and the Attack of the Coffee Table.


That my friends, is from when I slammed into the coffee table on stage, fell backwards onto it and then rolled off it ninja style in an attempt to get off stage in a hurry during the final black out of the show.

It was most entertaining. . . All you heard was THUDBAMWHACK whilst this dark shadowy outline of a figure tried their best to get off stage before the lights came back up and anyone had seen their clumsy attempt to exit stage left.



Grace and night vision I do not have.

So glad that happened in the dark. . .though only two of us were on stage at the time of the exit, so the audience had a 50/50 chance of guessing who it was.

The audience that night was a church group who had bought out the house as a special outing.  There was a small reception afterwards with cake, and we were asked to come out and mingle some.

Since I wear the wig during the performance, when I come out after getting back into my regular wear, people hardly recognize me.  I blend right in.  Especially if there are lots of ladies of the night there wearing heavy amounts of make up.

(Hey, hookers like culture and shit too.)

But after a few minutes of standing there next to the rest of the actors who are sans wigs during the show, people caught on.

One little girl came up to me and presented me with a Best Actress Award.  Which was really really sweet.  There were a few kids who brought these awards to pass out to their favorite actors.


(The woman who played my aunt took home two.)

It was really touching that she liked me that much.

Not only that, but I also received a nice compliment from another audience member who had actually worked at the Cleveland Playhouse ( which is a professional theater here in Cleveland.) during their production of Bell Book and Candle.

“I was scheduled to work at the recent Bell Book Candle production at the Cleveland Playhouse–Allen.   I was bored to tears with the first night’s production.     Leading lady certainly did not sell herself to me.    Didn’t improve with second night.  On the third night, the leading lady had food poisoning and they did not have an understudy to replace her.  Wheeeeeeeeeee, now I don’t have to sit through that again.

 Did not look forward to another production at Huntington, but, oh, well, I paid for the ticket…………W O W what a difference seeing a production in which the leading lady (and the entire cast for that matter) was doing an excellent job of producing that play.  I enjoyed every minute…..It was if I were seeing an entirely different play from the one at the Allen.   Congratulations, youse guys really came through again.”

So yeah me!

(In case you didn’t know. . . I’m the leading lady.  :P)

So all and all, The show so far is going really well. . .Even with me dropping my lines here and there. . and doing somersaults over coffee tables.

Bell Book and . . Uh. . What’s my line?

Last night was opening night. It went. . . all right I guess.

I was totally not on my game though. I paraphrased. . .I dropped lines. . .I totally blanked at one point (thank goddess for the women who plays my aunt for bringing me back on track.)
I even threw out a “Ummm, Uhh, Yeah.” Instead of the actual line.
However, when Act 2 rolled around, I pulled it together with the line business.
Yet, the whole time I was on stage I felt as if I was incredibly flat. I don’t think I put much emotion into what I was doing or inflection into what I was saying because I was so FOCUSED on getting the correct lines out.
I kept thinking that the audience must be tired of hearing me talk. Cause I know that’s how I felt.
Oh well. I still have what? 8 more times to get it right?
So yeah.
Let me just say, that I LOVE the wig I get to wear. I dare say, I think I might actually dye my hair this color.

Lines and other thoughts

I’ve been trying to transfer all my lines onto note cards.

It’s a process I’ve adopted that really helps with line memorization.

I’ll write the line right before mine on the front and then my line on the back.

That way I can do the flash cards where ever. . .

This show however, I have a shit ton of lines.  It’s quite daunting.

What would normally be a pack of index cards for an entire show’s worth of lines, has far exceeded that in Act 1 scene 1 alone.


My goal is to have act one down by this Wednesday.

That is the goal.

I miss my hoop.  After watching those videos, it made me wish I was more disciplined with my hoop practice. . .but then again, I have thoughts of grandeur when it comes to me and hooping.  How i see myself in my head compared to what I can actually do is a whole other story.

Though there are a lot of areas i would like to improve on.

Let’s see what else?

Oh.. . .my romantic lead is being played by a 22 year old.  I feel real creepy because i have to like make out with this guy and be all “in love” with him.

I’m soooooo not into young dudes.

And he is soooooo not my type.  However, in the world of theater, they never are.  They are either way too young, way too old or way too gay.

Not that I would EVER date another actor.   I don’t have time for egos.

I dunno.  That’s all I got for now.


Life for me has been pretty. . . . .stressful.  To say the least.  Well. . . to be honest, it’s mostly self imposed stress and worry.

My job once again is in jeopardy.  The company just doesn’t like me.  I’m not too keen on them.  I don’t trust them.  They say one thing and do another.  They don’t try to look at our operation and understand how it works.  They just try to ram it into their round holes. 

(That can be interpreted in anyway you like.)

Needless to say I need to find a new gig.

However, because I feel my “skills” won’t do me much good in the work place, I am worried about where to go next. 

I hate people.

I hate how they bitch about such trivial things.

(especially Interior Decorators.)

I don’t care.

I really don’t.

And I am NOT sorry that my matter of fact explanations don’t rub your ass the right way.


So that is where I am.  Where and what to do next.

The job market doesn’t look much promising.  At least in regards to paying my rent and allowing me to live somewhat comfortably.

I’m not horribly in debt, but I got some bills.

Know what I am saying?

I’ve also been cast in another show.

I will be playing the lead in Bell Book and Candle.

The Lead.

Not to rub it in, but this is kind of daunting for me, for I always strive to be brilliant.  And as the lead,  A great deal of the show rests upon my shoulders. 

Not to mention that this is a very prestigious community theater.

So there is that as well.

I have a shit ton of lines to learn within just a few weeks.  3 to be exact. 


So yeah.  Good distraction maybe? Bad timing?  Good timing? 

I hope.

Overture, Curtain Lights

Tonight is opening night for the show.  Thank flippin God.  That means that I get my weeknights back, and don’t have to drive all over god’s kingdom come.  Not to mention that I will be able to go to bed at a reasonable hour now.  Something I am most excited about!

(*side rant. . . since when did I start giving a shit about getting enough sleep?  How did this sneak up on me?  I used to stay out and up all night.  Sure sure, I’d be dragging my ass to work the next morning, daydreaming of my pillow all day, and just telling myself I would have the weekends to catch up on sleep.  Man.  This whole being a growns up.  wtf?)

(*another side note. . . there is no such thing as “catching up” on sleep.)

Last night we had our final dress rehearsal and I got say, that it went quite well.

The theater had invited a few Senior Citizen homes to come out and be our audience.  So technically, It was our first show.  My director will argue and say no, because he still took notes.

There is that moment for me, when a show starts, and you hear that first reaction from the audience, and it makes all the bullshit you just put up with for the past month, oh so worth it.

Yes I bitched.  Yes I complained.  Yes I sat and sulked and rued the day I ever agreed to do this show, but it was all erased the moment I heard those old timers let out a uproarious laugh.  It was in that moment, I thanked the gods of theater for allowing me to be a part of an ancient art that brings so much enjoyment to others.

The energy mixing from the actors on stage with that of the audience is something that I find incredibly intoxicating and spiritual.

It’s why I do it.
So Break legs tonight!

On another note, I haven’t been posting much about hooping, because, well, I haven’t been hooping.  Maybe briefly when I went up to MI towards the beginning of last month.

However I saw this on Fb today, which caught my eye, and you know, I can’t just pass by flashy glowy things.

The Platonic!!!


(I tried to embed it here, but it won’t work form some reason, and I blog challenged, so click on the shit.)

From what I gather, it is just a prototype, but I gotta say it’s pretty darn cool.  I haven’t done much research on it yet, so I don’t know the price points and how it stacks up next to, say the atomic.

Gonna get back into my hoop mojo ya’ll!

fucking rad!

Getting It off My Chest.

I’m not a happy theater camper these days.  The show I am doing is really starting to annoy the crap out of me, all due to the incredible amount of time suckage it has become and other little annoyances.  I know I bitched about this in my last post, but goddamn.  I need to get more off my chest.

Speaking of chest, let’s just jump right into that.

Rant #1

For whatever reason, the producer/costumer of the show thought it would be best if they make me wear a super sized padded bra under my costume, to play upon the “pair” that my character, which just so happens to be an Au pair, should, what they think, have.

She seems to find this hilarious.  I’m an Au Pair, and I have a pair, Oh my! What a pair!  Get it??  Pair of big fake boobs, playing upon the word Pair in Au Pair? (Anyone else getting this?? ) meanwhile, I feel like a Dolly Parton drag queen.  (With out the big hair and make-up.)


I think she partially did this because the dress she pulled for me, made me look frumpy, and instead of just finding something that fits and accentuates my already there curves, shoving padding in my bosoms seemed like the natural thing to do.  I mean, who has time to look for a fitted dress, when you can waste lots of time sewing big fake boobs into one?



I sort of expressed my dismay to both her and the director stating that I thought it looked unbelievably silly and unrealistic; however, the director thought it was a good costume choice and assured me that it did look good.  I have my own questions concerning him. . . He is a seemingly quiet little man with small feet and a foo foo lap dog.  And not gay.  (Not that there is anything wrong with that if he were)  The fact that he was gung ho about the fake boobage makes me wonder if he is 100% testosterone, and like any typical male response to big boosies, giving the thumbs up or if he is just trying to appear 100% testosterone.  (again, small feet and foo foo dog. . .makes me wonder.)

(Side note:  He does have a girlfriend. )

Since I don’t want to be the Diva of the cast, I simply sucked it up and said ok, and grumpily sulked back to the bathroom, where I scoffed once more at my ridiculous reflection.

I don’t know why I am so offended by this costume choice.  It’s not like I am very busty to begin with, but you know, my girls are pretty nice.  I’ve never had any complaints.  I can bust out of a top with no padding.  If it’s one thing I like about my body, it’s them.

Maybe that is why I am taking such offense to my over accentuation.  I know, I should just get over it, do my part and shut up about it. . . but really.  I feel like an asshole.  My inner feminist is probably being over sensitive to the mocking and over exaggeration of my breasts.  ( I could go on a Fem rant here, but I’ll save it.)


(ehh, maybe it doesn’t look so bad from the front.)

Rant #2:

Again, this whole eating up of my time.  Yesterday was to be double rehearsal with a dry tech run starting at 1 p.m. and then a run through of the show afterwards in full make up and costume.

For those of you not familiar with dry tech, it’s where you go over the lighting and sound cues with the lighting and sound crew.  It’s not necessarily running the whole entire show, but more so a cue to cue, meaning you start a few lines before the lighting/sound cue comes in, let them mark where and what needs to be done, and then move on to the next sound/lighting cue.  Let me just point out, there are not a lot of lighting and sound cues in this show.

Given past experience with shows and how I have been privy to how double rehearsals usually go, I figured we should have be done and out of there no later than 7 o clock in the pm.

So imagine my total surprise and dismay when at 3:30, after we had finished the cue to cue and cleaned up some of the blocking, when the director announced that the next run though with costumes would start at 7pm.  That night.


So not only have I had to give up 3 hours of my time a day(6 if you count the driving) for the past month, now I had to sit there for what. . .another 9 hours?  On a Sunday???  That’s some bullshit.

It would be different if I was getting paid for it, but I’m not.  So fuck you.

I wish I could pin point exactly why all these things are really grating on me.  Once again, I have been apart of shows with grueling rehearsal schedules and have had to wear uncomfortable ridiculous costumes in the past. I’m with a theater I have always had interest in working with and I seem to be doing alright with my part.

Why am I so curmudgeonly about this?

Am I becoming set in my ways and getting to a point where I don’t like my “routine” and what I am used to being messed with?  I will admit I  have gotten in the habit where I do like to be in bed by 11 now.  When this crept on me, I have no fucking idea.  This whole being responsible grown up, worried about getting enough proper rest to make it through the next day. . . Total bullshit.

Or Is  my Taurean nature to always be comfortable running a muck?

I have no idea.  I just don’t feel like traipsing about with stuffed boobs.

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