Easy

Have a great new years everybody. I hope y'all have teeeriff plans. Mine'll include having the next three days OFF! Annnd heading out to the Chan for their annual NYE soiree'. (It was pretty cool last year. This year we've got a better hotel, complete w/jacuzzi. Located right next to the theatre, we can just stumble on back after midnight. That's what I'm talking 'bout.) Did I mention I have 3 days off? 3 days to keep chipping away at the new digs. We're moving January 30th. Just the 4 bigger pieces that we can't move by ourselves. (Big, not heavy. Mattresses, Couch, and Chair. Aren't we fucking nice?) Hint Hint....: )

I did pick up an "ice-blue" Geoffery Beene shirt and complimentary tie from Mo-Fo's. Last years ensemble was a black suit with the red on red. This year I make for a "cooler" approach. If I can figure out how to scan them, I'll try and post the photo's of us. We just need a digital camera for Christmas. Or a Hippopotamus.

Her new haircut looks stylin'. Having it thinned out and trimmed bangs really changes her look. It was actually kinda weird when she got home last night. I asked her if these changes were all because she found another guy. (Actually I started to cry and said "I read Cosmo...I SEE THE SIGNS!!!) She said no, and gave me a very nice smooch to back that up. So I'm a paranoic sometimes. It's the fat lonely kid in me. Seriously, I ate a fat lonely kid for lunch. Okay, I ate lunch with a fat lonely kid. Okay, I just had lo-fat soup for lunch. Happy now? Anyway, we ended up talking about drywall again. (sighs...) Shitrock. That'll be a bitch.

Merry New Year. As I toast, I'll be raising it for y'all, and for the families of those less fortunate in the Tsunami-ravaged countries. I hope the worst days of 2004 turn into your best days of 2005.

Henry the...what?

I think I'm doing a show, really. Henry, dot dot dot "something or rather?"

Rehearsals around the holidays, boy...tough to get everyone's schedules together. 'Specially yours truly. (Violin solo as he snivel's AGAIN about his various jobs/house/wedding woes...I hate the violin! )

I'm still amazed and very gracious that I was cast in Henry the Fifth. Since our first read-through on November 29th, I have attended a total of 4 rehearsals. (sighs) Par for the course in a Pigs Eye show. I've found out that I'm not fighting in the big war scenes (My character, "Montjoy", is a French Herald. I'm told that he wouldn't be actually participating in the battle. Which is cool. The warrior in me, however, craves battle...) Oddly enough, I'm not freaking out about the # of rehearsals I've attended. My blocking is down (Easy in and out stuff. Ooooooo dirty), I've had my lines down pat since early December. Seriuosly. No worries. If the show was called "Montjoy the 1st" I'd probably be a little concerned. That's the Capricorn in me. We just don't get wound up over every little wankin' thing.

Funny Fiancee' story: Whenever I pass out before the J gets home, she usually goes up to the TV room to unwind and sometimes pass out herself. (Finding her way back down to the BR 'round 3am)I was awoke last night to one wide awake lady. Her eyeballs were wide open, big ol' smile on her face. "Can't sleep!" she says, "My brain's racin'". She then takes her hair, and pulls her newly trimmed bangs to the front of her chin. "Whaddya think?". I reply as best I can in my sleepy condition. "That is fantastic! Maybe we should make with the love to get you appropriately sleepy too?" (This is my typical response when I can't think of on more appropo. Can't sleep? Sex'll help! Feeling Sick? Naughty-naughty big kid action is the cure! Rent is due? Well that must mean that it's time for whoopie.) No such luck. Which is her typical response to my stupid typical response.

She laughed, mirthlessly. "Noooo. I'm thinking about the house. We should probably sheet rock the bedroom too...(etc.) Anyway, we ended up talking about the house stuff for an hour. Needless to say, I'm pretty darn sleepy now too. I do love that crazy, insomniac gal.

I got a NYE party at the Chan. Must find appropriate dress shirt. I'll bore you with my purchase later.

Amino Resolutions

Catchy name for a band, huh?
So, a couple of months ago I was waiting for my flight at the airport. Looking for some in-flight reading material, I ended up picking this random Fitness rag. As I flipped through the pages, it dawned on me that they've been printing the same type of shitty articles for-EVER. How to work out, what to eat, what to wear, blah blah blah. I seriously used to buy in to all that crap. I was a guinea pig, following all of those articles. And here's my 2 cents (Which won't make up for the $'s I've spent on all that fitness crap) If you've ever bought one, or thought about buying one -Don't buy a fitness mag, ever again. If any of you ever have a question about health and fitness, ask me (Or your doctor)

I used to subscribe to rags like the one previously mentioned. In '89 right after my old man got outta the hospital "post-angioplasty", our family took a subsequent healthy turn. No more fast food,sugary pop, or ground beef with everything. ('Course, my dad still loves him some peebs before dinner. And yeah, Subway wasn't around as much) The following year, I shed most of my pubescent chubs and gained an extra inch in height. Perverts. My philosophy was this: If I'm not gonna be a good looking "hottie", I might as well be in good shape. The exercise that would make me such- the bicep curl.

Even though Musclemag, Muscle and Fitness, and their ilk were my monthly reads, I never had the desire to be bulit like Arnold. More like, Van Damme (Hey, he was topical at the time.) or Brad Pitt. I believed that I could fight my narrow-shouldered wide-hipped genetics by educating myself with the training tips offered by these rags. I tried new exercises, new and unique supplements: MCT oil, NO2, HGB, Branched Chain Amino's, L-Carnitine straight, Protein Drinks (Ugg, undigested pro would make me nearly barf), Raw Whey, Lecithin, Mega-Mass (Pure sugar. I blimped out to 195 after eating that happy crappy.) soy. NAME IT!!! (I learned a few years ago from Covert Bailey-author of "Fit or Fat" that normal people buying supplements is like putting jet fuel in a Pinto) In the interest of obtaining the coveted "gator belly", I began cardio work- Starting, literally, jogging in place while watching a movie. I've used every type of equipment, taken all sorts of aerobic-y classes, worked with personal trainers. (I even begain studying A & P in college so that I could get my degree in Kinesiology) This is really been a huge passion of mine for years. Almost as long as I've been on stage. Weird how the two started 'round the same time. I've pissed off friends, gf's, family (bitching about the chubs) And once, when I lost 30 lbs in a month, everyone thought I had Cancer.)

Look, if your goal is to get in shape or lose weight. (I'm not just talking from a health and well-being stand point. I'm talking specifically toward getting your body ready for something.) Maybe you're in a show, maybe you're getting ready for a warm vacation. Well here's the magic pill: Eat fewer calories, and they have to be healthy...and exercise. To speed up burning chubs, you gotta jog/run. (It works the best. Otherwise, pick a different cardio and go longer.) To get toned, you gotta do resistance: (Lift/Yoga/Pilates/Chop wood whatever.)

And you can't eat: Fast Food, Cheese, BBQ Sauce, Fried/Breaded anything, Mayo (Or things that contain, said, salad dressing), guac, sour cream, milk other than skim, sugary beverages, even (I shudder to think of this one) booze.

If you're a casual fitnesser, go for a walk. Buy some dumbells or (yuck) a Tae Bo tape. Do some push-ups.

This was born from people talking about resolutions today. I don't have them. I don't make them. (Hello? I'd forget my own ass if it wasn't stapled to my back) and somebody was literally whining about how she wants to "get in shape". Blug. Find time. Do it.

Just don't try and go to the gym the week after new years. All of the other resolutioners are trying to get their butts to the gym too. They'll quit soon enough.



ps: Arizona does another bang-up job in terms of staying "open-minded" 1st they boycott MLK jr. Day, and now...this:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=2027&ncid=2027&e=4&u=/chitribts/20041228/ts_chicagotrib/campusclubseeksrighttoexcludegays

How many days are left?

So this is a tiny peeve, but I just don't like stoopid "Best of the year" lists that don't wait to get release until AFTER the year is completely over. How can you consider a best of the year list to be comprehensive until after the 31st of December? Seriously though, there is some pretty earth shattering shite that could occur in those 4 little days. (Hellooo? One Tsunami in the Maldives coming up. And btw- It's rumored that Jet Li is on the "missing" list. Yeah...) The worst was the Y2K capitalizers who were writing about "Our Century" or "2000 years in Pictures" and putting them in bookstores as early as November, 1999. Blleeeargh. Just wait a couple more days to turn your bucks, publishers. So much can happen in a day!


This year, J and I got the all the prezzies that we wanted. (Home Depot, we'll be seeing you soon.) I've mentioned that embellished gifts can be a curse or a blessing, So I'd like to present you with two of the things that we didn't care for. Before the idea of "Thoughtless Pricko" creeps into your mind, please realize that we were both very grateful to receive ANYTHING...Still, when you don't want or ask for anything, you're left at the mercy of peeps with the best of intentions. (Names of givers will be withheld to protect the innocent.)

Barbie 45th anniversary collectors plates. 6 of them. Given to J and myself as a "Mutual" X-mas gift. They don't have an actual "Barbie" on them, just little squiggly lines ala' Figlio, with accompanying "sassy sayings": (ex: "Life's too short to shop by yourself") Right. A dimestore Socrates must have written those savage observations. We received those Frenchy Bistro plates last year. And G-ma Connies China. We're running out of room in the Hutch.

Also props for receiving not one, but 2 wine bottle openers. Either my folks think that I'm some sort of Connoisseur/sommelier (I'm not) or they think I drink too much. (I can.) I received a bottle opener last year as well. Sighs...


Everyone liked what I got them, so I think I did okay. Stop here, cause now I'm babbling:
Dad: Off the Beaten Path: A guide to "out of the way" Travel spots in MN. And I got
him some "good" coffee.
Mom: Framed Pic of Gran and I, taken on 8/31/04. I look fat. Mom Cried. I then
gave them both a carpet runner for the upstairs hall. The old one was ass.
Ro and Co: GC's to Home Depot (For a goodly sum) and Bed Bath and Beyond. (So she can
buy themselves soap dispensers to match the kitch and bath. Ro also got a T-Shirt
I picked up in Caesar's Palace that says "Roman Ale: Brewed by Gladiators" He's
been wearing it daily, since Saturday- I hear tell.
Ssss: He's got this boner for wizard paraphenalia, so I found a Antique Wizard M
Marionette at an antique sto' in Stillwater. Good Times. (The GC to Mo-Fo's
made it feel more "gifty")
Ry: Haven't seen him yet, I'll tell ya later.
The sweet-baby J: A range. Flattop, Electric. Whirlpool brand. (She got me a Dish-
washer. Quite the trade) and "Broadway: A History"/"That's Entertainment:Vols-
1,2, and 3" Containing a "Never before seen" dance routine between Fred and
Gene.

There was more, but I won't bore you. The X-mas card I made (A pic from the small theatre X-mas party) was a pretty funny gag too.

Happy Boxing Day

...Ya Clown Boxers....Har.

Are there any Christmas songs that deal with the after math? And not just a verse in a song, I'm talking a whole song. You know, putting the orney-minks away, throwing away old wrapping paper, shuffling through receipts to figure out what shit has to be returned, vaccumming up pine needles. Because real tree's kick ASS!!! (sighs) I guess I'll have to compose the mo-fo myself.

Speaking of which, Do any of your families neatly unwrap presents, folding the paper and setting it aside (Like you'd use them on future presents. Seriously folks, it's wrapping paper. The gift bags I can see the point of re-use. Wrapping paper, no matter how pretty- not so much) Or do you do what the "P-Fam" does and rip them apart like the Bacchante descending on Orpheus? I'm a ripper and J's fam represents the folders. P X-mas: Done in 15 minutes, Her fam, took about 2 hours. (My families went a little longer due to my father, "Julia Childs" trying to cook and open. A multi-tasker indeed. And the yearly game of "who opens the last gift". Usually my bro and mom have a small present jammed in the cushions of the couch. This year, I win 'cause my out of town friends still have g.c's to present me with. So, take that, family!"

2 great gatherings with two great families. I'd like to speak towards the Atkinsonion feast we shared on X-mas. Prime Rib, Turkey, and Atlantic Salmon (My touch)...it was practically debauch. And folks- I had sweets. A piece of pie at the "J's", and a piece o' b-day cake (They remembered) at home. If you know me, and my war on my chubs you'll mark this as a momentous occasion. I felt sick for the remainder of the day. Incidentally, 30 is really no big deal. 'til I Saw it on my cake. I don't know why.

We set out later for Gameworks to do a little bowling. (With my 3rd family) I'd like to thank the peeps that made it out (And especially for their generosity) The Geef and his Weef, The Froh's, and my pal Allard. (Who burned me every Slim Shady disc. Inside joke. I'll tell you later.) I'd like to present my piss-offedness at Gameworks for cuh-LOSING at midnite. Bastiges. And also to the peeps who went to the Market for a night-cap. I was fairly inebriate and was whispered an offer I couldn't refuse. Couldn't-Refuse. : ) Incidentally, my future wife is a frickin RINGER. She tossed off 5 strikes in 2 games. I underestimated her...hmmmm. Our next meeting will be different.

I liked the fact that it was kinda a couples group (Which Allard mentioned. His schmoopie lives in the UK) it was...nice.

Ah-HA! Fooled you didn't I?

And it ain't even April 1st. Suckah's!!!

So if you're reading this, you might be wondering why I'm not out fighting the crowds in DT Mpls today. Weeeelllll, let's just say that fate is a fickle thing. I came home from work last night with the prospect of hitting the dojo and the gym one last time before I get too old to get outta bed). and was instead greeted by a CUH-RYing fiancee', who woke up feeling a little under the weather, and thruout the day her condition- as the Doc's on "ER" say- steadily worsened. Understand that when your career is hoofin' and tweetin', a sore body & sore throat becomes a little more than a "Call the boss cuz I don't feel too good". My girl is a trooper , and she plowed back out to Chan for a 2 show day in below 0 temps. Anyway, she needs the rest so I chose to let the poor thing get some x-tra Z's today, since I'm attributing her condition to stress. (Read past blogs to get caught up on that drama. With 4 jobs apiece and a house that needs finishing, it was bound to happen to one of us. I just happen to be invincible.)

She is feeling a bit better today. We'll still be a-partying on the 25th.

I also wanted to wish peeps an early Happy X-mas and to remember that this season is truly about...ZZzzzzzzzz. Sorry, lost my train of thought there. Really, I write today for the folks who are at work: I understand that it sucks-ballza, and I feel for you. However, if you work downtown and did happen to see the Mo-Fo's 8th floor exhibit, tell me how it was. I hate missing that exhibit, even if I'm trying to be all gallant and stuff.

I did get my tubby butt to the gym though. It was niiiiice and quiet.

Where's MY pie???

I know I've dithered about how having a b-day and X-mas on the same day don't suck, but sakes alive:
I came to work today thinking that my desk would be covered w/balloons saying "Happy 30th" etc...Not so much. No festive confetti. No cake. Nada. I realized that I haven't had an actual "cake" cake for my bday in, a while. (In all fairness, last year J did make a delicious chocolate/cheesecakey thing with a candle in it.)

Today marks an anniversary of sorts. One Year ago today, I proposed to the J-ster. Surprised the hell outta her when she rolled in from "Cats". I had been mulling over how I was going to do it: A romantic hot air balloon ride? A candlelit dinner? Pretend to go see a show and take her to a dark theatre and propose there? (I was going to try to do it at the Loading Dock. I thought it woulda been appropriate) I'd been in possession of "the one ring" for a few weeks (Princess cut w/2 baguette setting. You know? In case she looks at it and gets hungry?) I honestly thought I would never be able to keep it hidden. (Allright copper, see....ya got me, see? Here it is! HERE IT ISSSSS!!!!)

In the end, our schedules and the lack of funds were against me. And while I couldn't order 50 jars full of fireflies to light a path for her, I figured votive candles would work. I won't bore you all to piece's with the specifics: I kneeled, she said "Yes", we cried a bit, and spent the remainder of the night picking candle wax out of the cat's paws. (If you are really curious, ask me about it sometime.) It made a great story to tell our families over the next two nights of dinner and celebration. Although I never want to host back to back X-mas parties at our house ever again. Ever, again.

I'll be pretty busy tomorrow, my peeps. The morning will find J and I checking out the 8th floor holiday x-hibit at Mo-Fo's. ("You get so excited, it's kind of weird..." she said to me last year. It wasn't a very cool exhibit either. Downright sucked balls, actually.) The rest of the day will be spent, say it with me, AT THE NEW HOUSE. That's right, hauling ass to get it move-in worthy by January 29th. (In case you wanna help us move. It is on a weekend!) Henry V is the only drawback, and I love the show too much to consider it a problem. Tomorrow evening, vittles with her family.

Sats, will find me at my mom and dads, then prolly back to NE Mpls for more manual labor. Relaxation will FINALLY ensue when I can lose myself in vids, bowling, and air hockey. I'm sure the booze will help too. Happy Christmas, gentle readers. If you are up at 5:53am, I'll blog you a 30 year old boys birthday greeting. 30.

1.5 more days to go.

Quick funny bit...

I ran to Ridgedale today to buy a last minute gift card. They actually bagged the silly little thing. Anyway, as I ran to leave, I noticed a woman w/too many parcels in hand, trying to hit the handicap door button. I quickly side-stepped around her and like a true gent- held the door.

"Thank You" says she.
To which I reply: "Oh don't worry, I've got a smaller package"

It didn't even occur to me what I had just said until I was about 15 feet away from my Saturn. When the blood runs away from your face, it gets a lot colder outside.


The Party will commence this Saturday. Block E, at the Video-Game-A-Rama. Long Live the New Flesh, and all that stuff. I suck at bowling, so let's hope I get at least one or two folks out that like to play "ghetto-hockey" (Air-Hockey, for those who didn't grow up in Beeps.) I've had a few folks ask me why I don't just have a party on Sunday Night?
1) School night. Peeps work the next day.
2) J has Saturday night off. (And 2 shows the next day to make up for it.) It's been
a while since we've been able to go out together, much less party. So yeah. I
hope that there'll be some peeps who be free.

2 shopping days 'til I'm dirty thirty.


ps: Mo-Fo's, (i.e. Marshall Fields) carries "Acid Washed" Sweaters. Ala' the acid warshed jeans craze of the late 80's. I don't buy clothes too often, but lemme just say: Why in the hell would I wanna buy a stinkin' acid warshed sweater when I have 5 or 6 that have faded perfectly well on their own. Thank You.

Quick shout out to Latts. Everytime I get a chance to see him again, it's always really good to see him again. Not many friends are like that. Y'know?

The Birthday List

Cold. It is fucking cold out. Fact of life here I s'pose, but damn. You come home from your commute, need to use the loo. You go, and say to yourself "My hands are fucking cold. You are currently manhandling yourself with an Inuits hands." And scene.

This will mark the 1st year that I haven't created a birthday/X-mas list for my 'rents. Yes, even into my late 20's I've made a list (More or less for reference/guidance. Trust me, I would rather they didn't embellish. The resulting gifts can be, um, silencing.) I've always been kinda tickled by the "oomph" factor that having a Christmas list that also speaks toward my birthday. (Take THAT Santa and Jesus!) but I just didn't wanna fuss this year. Home Depot is now our bitch. Gift Cards in any denomination help.

Gentle readers I would like to indulge you, if you have the time, to what I would like for X-mas. Both naughty, and nice. (Or, at the very least chalk fulla schmaltz)
The Naughty (Or "If I hadda Million Dollars...):

1. A big honkin' digital TV. Most requested gift this year, I've read. Anything 50 + inches would suffice. (Corresponding "surround sound" a must)
2. A nicer computer.
3. That shitty interest-only part of my home loan. If that were gone, well...the mortgage would be smalla'.
4. The lottery. It's at 30 mil- I'm turning 30. So I got a ticket, Big deal. Besides all of the crap I'm asking for here, I'm buying and renovating the Hollywood Theatre on Johnson.
5. Travel- Europe (Spain, Italy, Greece, the Czech Republic) and a good place for our Honeymoon. I'm thinking a nice all-inclusive resort in Hawaii. Especially around this time of year.
6. Getting cast in every show I audition for. (Especially where I work w/my love. It'd be nice to be on the same schedule)
7. Our wedding paid for. To be held at the Depot in Downtown Mpls. With hotel rooms for all of our out of town guests. (I thought of that one whilst at #2 job, looking at all of the reserved tuxes I'm buying for my groomies. )
8. Naughty nights, every night, with my schmoopie...I'm up for the challenge. I'm seriously not fucking around here, I-Will-DO IT!!!
9. The Rhee-Max headgear. Best karate headgear around. At $85, still a little outta my range.
10. FX special edition lightsabers, and a movie quality Spiderman costume
11. A club-quality treadmill. (And home gym. For cold fucking nights, like tonight) Not a DP or a Weslo, I'm talkin LifeFitness here.
12. GC's for Gap, Banana Republic, and Hugo Boss. I need that suit I saw in Vegas.

The Nice...This is what I want, what I really-really want.

1. Help moving in. It'll be cold. But there isn't much heavy stuff.
2. To have only one job. Just one. I'm not fussy. I'm just get a little tired of not seeing my friends, not making time for new friends, or not seeing as much theatre-or as many movies. Not being able to see my folks as much. Heck, not being able to be at the house to fix it up, so my baby doesn't have to put as much time in. Just one job.
3. To have been able to spend more time w/G-ma Rose. I was only able to make day trips to see her. Again. 2-3 jobs. (ZC, thanks for letting me be a little late to the 1st "Picasso" remount rehearsal for this very reason. I got some great pics that day, which I'm gonna give mom for X-mas)
4. To have the conflict overseas be done. Sting said "there's no such thing as a winnable war" and day by day I'm starting to believe it.
5. To be a little calmer on the roads, and not have the frustrating opinion that all other drivers are fly-footed, brain-dead ball-sniffers. (That won't happen)
6. To not be so hard on myself. ( It's just a fear that as soon as I like what I see, stupid little behaviors will creep out..."I'm better than you", "my hair is fuller", or "my chest is nicer". I hate vanity and can accept my self-deprecation.)
7. To be funny. And not in a snide and snarky way. (Fuck, that won't happen either. You can bet your ass that as soon as some dude bends over and their pants rip? I'm the first one to say "HAH!!! CRACK KILLS!!!"
8. To let my friends and family know how much they mean to me. Every offer our families have ever given to help with the house, every time I've been cast in a show because of a referral. Whenever I come home late and J has made dinner, or left me a simple note that says "Love U!!!" This endears to me so much, that I sincerely hope that all of them realize that I love and care about them. (Even though some of my fam can drive me nuts. And some of my friends can be ego-maniacal, selfish, pothead, alkie, over-sensitive butt-nuts...doesn't mean that I wouldn't get their back, and tear liver and lung from anyone who tried fucking with you. )
9. Get my black belt. I've been in Martial Arts for 10 years. I should have my 3rd degree by now (Hey, when the show must go on and all, damn theatre...) My instructor told me this summer, that he'd be honored to give the 2nd P their black belt. There's a lot behind a statement like that. Maybe you need to be involved in the MA to understand? Honor.
10. To get better as an actor. At least to be recognized that "he does a good job" would be fine. I heard the same comment I've heard since college "Maybe you should be a stand-up?" Sighs...Maybe. I won't say no to everything.
11. To stop eating out so much. That won't happen either. So long as Fresh Wok stands on 46th and Nicollet, and Subway keeps serving that delicious low-fat sweet onion Chix Teryaki sub. (No cheese.) It's muy bueno.

Mostly, to have all peeps reading this blog- or who kept reading this far....To know that it is an honor to me to have known you, or have gotten to know you, or have worked with you. Every experience I've had has left a mark, that won't (or really can't) be forgotten. I've got a good memory.

And to have sex w/my future wife every single night. Nightly. And stuff. Ah, I'm teasing.
Twice nightly.

3.5 days til 30.



ps: My 3 peeps who responded to my last blog I thank you. And you were all drunk. (Even out of state readers must have imbibed heavily.) I've seen the pictures. And I know. Faaaat guy in a little tux. (HEY! Herve Villachez wasn't using it!)

Damn, it's cold

Hate is a pretty strong word. Acceptance should be universal. That disclaimer out of the way...let me just say that I fucking hate cold weather. Welcome to winter folks. It's not just about the shivers, the gas bill, starting your car earlier, the (pause for drama) snow. It's just how the cold kinda...follows you inside. Yech.

So, downtown Mpls has changed a bit. I met my big bro at Copelands for lunch last Friday, and I hardly recognized City Center. As a kid, my dad would bring me to the Sheriff's Office and then unleash me on the downtown scene. I'd wander the skyways, do some shopping. It got to be that I could get around fairly well. Well NOW it's all under construction and I can barely recognize a damn thing. I'll be lucky if I can find the Fields 8th floor exhibit next Friday when I take J there on our day off. Weird note: Fringe director Leah "Coop" Cooper has a picture just...lingering there on one of the walls. (Apparently to cover up the renovation, the city has displayed "Faces of the City" all around the storefronts.) We can talk about changes when I drone about my recent visit to my folks. Bee-Pee is not the town I grew up in anymore.
(ps: Borders had lightsabers. Not the "flashlight with a tube" jobbys like we had growing up. These had sound effects and EVERYTHING! Ro and I played with them. It was glorious.)

Noteworthy: The Small Theatre X-Mas party was last night. A veritable "Who's Who" in the small teatro' scene, with only one ex-geef siting. She said "Hi" and didn't even introduce me to her man. I thought I'd be original and wear a tux to the gala, considering I shill the fancy mo-fo's (Thanks to Kaiser, Papster, and Edwin for one-UPPING me!!!) I dashed out relatively early, per normal, due to an early morning baptism- having imbibed only ONE glass of wine thankyouverymuch. Why is this a big deal, you may ask?

One: I become a wanker. Well, more of a wanker than I normally am.
Two: To quote William H. Macy in "Magnolia"- "I've got so much love to give". Meaning I'll hug, kiss, compliment, squeeze, pinch, and love up anyone in my path. A throwback to my younger days, I'm not doing this out of stupidity, malice, or even trying to be flirty. Booze and groups make me act like a douchebag. And I like myself better when I don't look back at the evening with disgust, or guilt for having acted this way.

Three: ADD+booze means I'll forget shit. Throw on top of that multiple conversations, and I'm bound to squash my wonderfully detailed memory. (Thanks Dad for the attention to detail bit. the Godfather knows what I'm talking about. He remembers hella shit too.) In other words, I hate talking to people about things, then seeing them at a later date and repeating myself, or have them tell me something again that they already have told me. It reeks to me of being disrepectful and uninterested. Which I do try not to be. A lofty goal, but hopefully acheivable.

Sense has been made? Yes? I suppose this will wind up coming across as a justification of sorts, mostly because one of my dumb little phobia's is not having said "G'bye" to everyone. Which I really hope I did.

I promise to prattle on more about the house and holidays. The party was fun, canna wait to see the pics, and it makes me yearn for my big-kid birthday this Saturday. Those who read this and are in town are more than welcome to join me. I love people. : )

ps: The one and only glass of wine was raised for two ladies who couldn't attend. My delightful and terribly busy wife to be, and Portland. It was a gay old time.

I may try a narrative someday...

Just not today.

Last Christmas, when the thought of spending another X-mas in the black was looming, fortune smiled upon me. I had to rent a costume for my big-kid-day-job and I went next door to my building where there was a costume shop. I saw that they were looking for a part-timer, and before you could say "tailcoat" I was shilling tuxes and costumes for 'em. Like being a cop, the store has moments of boredom, punctuated with moments of sheer panic and terror. (Read: Prom season and Halloween.) I'm generally always busy when I am there, but the quiet and tranquil moments allow me to do 2 things:
1) Practice Lines for whatever show I'm in, or work on monologues/music for auditions. (The bathroom/warehouse has really nice acoustics. Well, nice to me anyway.)
2) Try shit on, or dork around with the swords and costumes. I've been a skunk, a bumble bee, a pirate...and that was just last week! (Bah dum-dum). I was able to practice foil work which I find hilarious that this place actually sells a foil.

I'll vanquish what ever shit my brain comes up with, read through the merchandise catalogues to imagine buying some of the really cool haunted house stuff, or finding the dream wedding merchandise the J and I have always wanted.

The problem is, as soon as my shift ends, I wanna be done. Till closed, cash counted, in my car, on the freeway, heading home or to the Y. (I'm seriously packing on the lbs. folks. Seriously) I can usually pace myself so that as soon as my night's over, my night is over.

Except when peeps come in riiiiight before closing to buy something. (Mind you, costume rental closes at 6:00pm, so if they get all pissy it is on their own venerable head.) Or the strangest thing...like last night:

I've finished brushing the Santa fur, and have launched into speaking my part (Montjoy) for Henry V. I see NO cars in the lot, so I feel comfortable enough to speak full voice whilst I practice. I just finish up shutting the lights down in the warehouse (Saying a particularly saucy verse "Thou never shall hear Herald any more..." It's a tongue twister, those double "H's") when there in the front of my store is a senior. Looking very lost and apologetic on his cell phone. Turns out his car broke down next door, and he was trying to give his wife directions to our store. I told him the easiest way out here, and that he could hang out at the store and be comfy until she arrived. (Hey, it was 7 degree's out last night. He was gonna try and walk to the Rainbow 1/2 mile away. Even I'M not that mean.)

Well, his wife called, and was hella lost. Even with the easy directions. I offered to talk to her (She screamed into the phone that she didn't want to talk to me.) I even offered to drive him down to the Rainbow...you know? (Again, she screamed no!) Rainbow, with the big green sign that HAS to be in front of you based on where you she was driving? As it turned out, she too was a senior and had a major aversion to both driving, and driving at night. Y'know the type? After taking two rights when she should have gone left, she finally found us. Finally.

I ended up leaving 45 minutes after my shift was supposed to have ended. A 15 hour marathon day between 2 jobs. And guess what? When I looked out at the parking lot where his car had broke down? It was gone. Meaning it must have magically came back to life.


I like to think that he was my protector for the evening. You know what I'm saying? If I had left on time, when I should have, I probably could have been in a serious car accident. Or mugged!. If life works that way, I'll leave that as my justification. At least it kept me from being crabby about missing a work-out.

I just like to smile. Smiling's my FAVORITE!

I saw "Elf" late Saturday, and it made the "list" of my top 5 holiday movies/specials. I laughed my butt off, and honestly I cannot begin to say how much I think that Will Ferrell is absolutely HI-larious. Not too much to report over the weekend. Working the 5 gillion jobs sucks, but...I'm employed. (AND lemme tell you. Said- x-tra jobs come in handy when your new house has a delightful find! We moved the dropped ceiling as we were tearing out the cabinetry in the kitchen, only to find a YUGE hole in the plaster. BALLS, shouted I! Subsequently, yesterday was a VERY frustrating day of fixer-uppering. Electric, Hand, then wet-sanding the plaster. 4 Ibuprofen later, I can finally make a fist again.

Today, to keep the festive holiday spirit alive, the spirit of giving, love, peace, and understanding. (11 shopping days 'til my birthday, kids!) I give you, my top 5 X-mas flicks and specials in no particular: Add to the list with some of your own! (btw- I think "It's a Wonderful Life" is the crappiest X-mas flick ever. I like Jimmy Stewart and all, but talk about forced contrivances, yeesh.) Needless to say, my list may seem rather...Unconventional?

1)Elf- Not the best holiday film ever made, but I really enjoy "That sense of Humor". And the funny/sweet mixture really got to me. A little light at the end, but tell me if you don't/didn't laugh when he was at the Doctor's office. (Or getting the perfume sample? So many bits. I chortled)

2) "Peanuts X-mas special"- Unfortunately, taught me how to dance. (Do I do the "Pig-Pen"? How about the "Sherman"?)
Love this for nostalgia, and the Linus monologue. Random, but oddly touching. Sing with me (To the tune of "Hark the Herald"): Loo, Loo, Looooooooo, loo-loo, Loo, Loo, Looooooooo!!!

3) "Lethal Weapon" (1987)/"Die Hard": Okay, so they're both celluloid blow-em up action movies. HOWEVER, they both have Christmas as a seasonal backdrop. That being said, both movies are effin' cool. And did you know that Franco Zefferelli cast Gibson as Hamlet after seeing his "suicidal breakdown" scene in front of the tv (Where he's watching Looney Tunes X-Mas Carol)
Bruce Willis escapes Moonlighting to become the live-action, everyday hero for the next generation of Non-Steroidal gun wielders. (Although, I think he kinda looks like a living Homer Simpson)

4) "The Nightmare Before Christmas": Um, Oogey-Boogey was also Broadway's original "Deuteronomy" in "Cats". Whatever! This movie kicks ass, and the best part of my trip to FL. 10 years ago was seeing the model mock-up of Halloweentown and Jack Skellington. Wonderful movie. (And even though the preview looks a little weird, I am looking forward to seeing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory done "Burton Style")

5)"A Christmas Story": My family. Right there on the big screen. My dad with his made up swear words. My Mom with her passive aggressive encouragement. My big brother with his yearly passionate plea's for firearms. My Parents LOVE this movie, and I guess I love to hear them laugh uproariously. (FYI: Dad's favorite bit is when the Bumpeses dogs ear gets caught in the door.) If you've ever heard my strange fixation with bunny suits, this movie is the root. Peter Billingsley is currently producing a flick with (Elf) Director Jon (Had waaaay too many sandwiches since he got famous) Favreau. It's called Zathura, and I'm betting it'll be cool.

2 Honorable Mentions:

A) "Emmitt Otter's Jug Band Christmas"- Ain't no Hoooooole in the washtuuuub!!!! A Jim Henson PJ from the 80's. Tremendous fun, and weird- did I mention I like weird? We're not birds, we're a JUG BAND!

B) Lord of the Rings Trilogy: Not X-mas movies per se, but all released on or around the Holidays in 2001, 2002, and 2003 respectively. "For Frodo..." get's me in the throat every time. : )

Whutta Week.

Zounds! Did I soapbox or did I soapbox yesterday? I should give classes, I tell ya! (With all the mommy's and kids that come into the costume shop for make up, I could have a side business. "Oh, you're an actor? What plays do you do?" "Well, porn mostly...I cater to the 'normal' sized guys if you know what I mean ma'am...ma,am??"

Again with the dick jokes. He canna make it through the week without one. Maybe I'm tired, maybe I'm feeling randy...or mayb's it be Friday, me hearty's. Yarrrrr.

I was freakin' out this week a lot. A lot. Big time stresser's, on top of all that the Neue Haus Sheisse. To re-cap:

1- Had a callback @ Chan for Booty and da Beast. 1st callback in roughly 7 years of off/on auditioning there. I go from Ordway to Chan. WTF am I thinking! Music, possible dance callback??? So, after a lukewarm singing audition- I was asked if I still tumbled (yup) kip-ups, jump-spin wheels, tornado kicks, dive rolls, prat falls the works. Apparently that worked. Well, there were over 100 peeps at the cb (J sez it's the most she's ever seen there, umm ever.) I did my whole "Stretch in the corner and not talk to peeps until after it's done" the combination was actually not too tough. Some of the chan-o-saurs were gracious enough to walk me through it a bunch of times. So yeah, in and out. Got a big smooch and a "I'm so proud of you" from the lady...but I can't see why they'd cast me. It's nice to have been considered, since that's as far as I've gotten there. That, + Dieter/Ann gave some very helpful sanding tips.

2- Henry. Henry, Henry, Henry. This is par for the course, but we won't have a full cast rehearsal until the end of the month. Due to working my own 4 jobs, I've had to miss a few rehearsals myself. (I'm too good though. I was able to fanagle some time off from the Costume Shoppe so I.) I love the cutting, and I'm thinking it'll be pretty durn good. We lost a cast member though, (She picked up a big $ gig) and we're scrambling for talent. Know anybody? From rehearsal I went too...

3- Richard III cb's. I didn't think I'd get into that one either. It's really cool to be asked to come by and read. And I got to see Eitel's little peanut (His kid, ya perv's) and reunionize w/peeps who I don't get to see on a regular basis. (A veritable who's who of the small theatro' scene- Pust, Kaiser, Edwin, my old buddy Lats, Jabas, Dwizzy, Schloss, Bob, Carlton, Mother 2-electric boogaloo, and the bionic woman herself, complete with face screws. Too cool. I love talking and I love people, people. Good times. I didn't get cast, whiiich is probably a good thing with, y'know, getting hitched right after the run and all.)

4- The house. Finally showed my good friend Ry-Gonn (who biffed on the backyard tree swing. He gave himself grassy-ass stain.) It's still at the pretty over-whelming stage right now, but J and I gifted each other major appliances for X-mas. (A DW and Range) I'm officially getting close to maxing out the old CC. '05's work bonus should cut that back significantly, but we still need to remodel the kitch b4 we can actually put food on the counter. After some deep breath's, and a very late night chat w/J we're both chillin a little more. (She was a bit more stressed than I, due to a health scare in her fam. Mommy in the hospital for tests-especially during the holidays- does not a happy dancer make.)

Have a great weekend peeps. I'll be fighting the good fight against a horde of Santa-wannabe's, and even donning the old costume myself for the Winter Lights Tours. And if I'm not there, well...guess where I'll be? Take it away CSN&Y:

Ouuuuur House. Iz a VERY VERY VERY FINE house. With two cats in the yard....start swinging from MYYY NARDS!!!! (I'm awful and immature.)

That's just, like, your opinion...man.

So many of them. Opinions.
I got riled up today from seeing some dumb-ass fake postings on the Callboard (fun little TC small theatre posting board.) I wrote a shitload of angryness down, and then erased it. Think before you speak, you know? Don't just launch into your first instinct. Save those for when you need to fight. See, I'm a pretty mature, laid back easy guy. All right, I fibbed. I'm a fairly complex dude, who thinks dick jokes are funny... but I like things easy? Make Sense? No?

Anyway, this brain surgeon poster did what many of the other theatre folks do and they threw in their 15 cents- Well- Their BS pissed some folks off, starting a flurry of responses, Kaiser had to pull their shit, and this all got me thinking:

There are a lot of ignorant (not stupid) mis-informed peeps out there. Wasting time, wasting energy, keeping their feet on the path in front of them, eyes never leaving the same trail. Narrow Minded goats, attached by rope from the neck to the Maypole. Circling.

My philosophy is "Different Strokes for different folks" y'know? Opinions are everywhere, but personally the bottom line is don't you shouldn't fucking judge. Judgers.

Like acting- Here's my two cents- Take or Leave.

Be on time. Always

Get headshots. You need them if you want to get work. Don't have facial hair in them (Unless that's your "thing"- male or female) if you've lost or gained a lot of weight, get new ones. Try not to take them outside, and wear darker clothes. (No white shirts) A no frickin' soft filters. What are you, Barbara Streisand? And make sure it looks like you.

Memorizing lines? Should be the 1st thing and the easiest thing. I was an extra at the Flying G years ago (Right, sorry, they call them "Essentials" nowadays) and I asked the guy playing Jacques a very naive question: "How do you learn all those LINES? Wow!"

He said: "Baby, memorizing the lines is easy. It's coming up with the believable character that's hard." Since then, my personal goal has been to be off book as quickly as possible. Ideally by my 1st walking rehearsal. Get that crutch outta yer hands.

On stage, You need to connect with the other actors, make bold choices, and lastly try not to act to the audience. Occasionally this will be a production choice. Not my fave, but it sometimes happens)

Do a Classic. Be in a Shakespeare or two. Even if you don't like it. It's good for you and it builds character...like a paper route. (Again, I had a friend who gave bass lessons at Mars and Musictech. He would make all of the long haired "Butt-Rocker" dudes practice Jazz on an upright for weeks before he'd even let them touch an electric. "You have to learn where the shit you want to play came from, before playing the shit you wanna play..." Find your own analogy.

If you aren't in a show, see as many shows as possible. Or take Acting/Singing/Dancing lessons (Or On-Camera classes). Find a hobby that will help your craft, or just get out and exercise.

Someone glamourized the "Starving Artist" which is bullshit. Don't pigeonhole yourself exclusively as a stage actor. Mamma and Papa gotta pay the bills. Do Voiceovers, Commercials, Print (If you have the look). Try being in movies- see what you like.

Know thyself. If you have a certain look, don't expect you'll get called for everything. And if you find yourself bitching about where you work, when you work, or if you're getting called back, maybe you should re-evaluate what you're doing. Or ask someone to watch you do your monologue, or find a tactful way of asking a director if there was something you could've done better. btw: Pre-casting has been around, and will always be around. DWI. Yeah, it sometimes sucks- and if you don't dig it, then don't audition.

Don't skip an audition. Or piss away an job offer. Don't audition if you don't like the show. Don't take a gig if you really have a bad feeling about this....(Sorry, Star Wars rant.) Let me assure you- I've worked for some Shhheeeeiittty theatre companies. It sucks, and I should have gone with my instinct. Experience is not a sexy teacher, but it is the best one.

The above statements are only my opinion, and it's an opinion born of my personal experiences in addition to what I've heard/seen/and learned from my peers. I'm not a full-time professional actor- but that doesn't mean I don't show up and act professionally. Do what works best for you, but remember ultimately staying open-minded and flexible will be your best friend.

J has been an inspiration to me as well: Since we've been together, I have had the extreme fortune to work with, and see some incredibly talented people perform. She has encouraged me to keep working on going for bigger gigs. She's a keeper peepers.

It just frustrates and exhausts me to see and hear folks bitching- and not searching for solutions. It accomplishes precious little except to waste energy. There is no "one way" folks. There is no path of least resistance. You just need to keep chugging along and be patient. Go forth my grasshoppers.

ps: I like mother 2.0 and Fred's mantra- If it don't feel good, don't do it.

Pulling a Christmas boner.

FYI: We aren't moving into our new home for a while. Not until the end of January anyway. Too much stuff to get prepped before we can actually hang our hats.

So I was born on X-mas. My mom thinks that I was the best present ever. My brother thinks that I've ruined X-mas for him over the last...Almost 30 years. Big Kid birthday coming up guys. That's right. Dreizig. In 17 days. ( I don't get schmaltzy about it folks. I won't hit my stride until my 50's)

Why Happy Christmas Baby? When people find out my birthday, it almost ALWAYs promotes the same response "Huh, X-mas musta sucked for you...being your birthday and all". Not really, because I really like having almost Everybody in a celebratory mood. "Do you get twice as many presents??" Twice as many as who? Biggie and I always got the same amount of shit every year, with dad always raking in the big haul

I didn't mind not being able to have a birthday party. All the other kids would be with their fams, playing with their new toys. And my wonderful mom got creative and we used to celebrate a 1/2 B-day in June. (So I could actually have a party) This little summer tradition has been ceased. : (

The Holiday season always forced me to create a specific X-mas list (When my fam embellishes it is sometimes, unfortunately, for the worse) My dad would take me to work with him the day after Thanksgiving and let me roam the skyways. (Up until I was about 18 years old. I don't think families would let their 13 year old wander by themselves in this day and age) I would go shopping with my meager earnings. (Not much has changed there) and wander through the stores, wondering what the F+++ do I get them? (Am I the only one that makes a list people? It sucks when you ask them what they want and their replies are always "Hmmmmmm Nothing", or "I haven't thought about it yet." ) For many years, dad would get a tie or cologne. Mom would get something Nursing related. And Biggie would get toys or (When I got older) hip looking clothes. (Christmas was always really wonderful for us: Typically we'd get up early, open up our stuff, then head out to g-ma Pat's for some food and family time.

Things Change, and after my 21st BD, X-mas evenings would be spent bar-hopping to whatever bar is open on the 25th, (Usually in Mpls this means Gabbys or the Gay 90's/Saloon.) and getting my free drink. This came to a head on my Golden Birthday when I wrecked a hotel room and tried to make out with any gal in my group who was willing (Not many were). Things change again, and the next year, my (at the time) GeeF chastised me for wanting to go party. (You're too old to do that, she said) So we spent it playing darts with her girl buddy from out of town. Low Key. And Boring.

Subsequently, every X-Mas since 2000- I've not had a birthday bash. Or a "real" cake for that matter. With the exception of last year, a VERY memorable Birth-mas.

We had both fams over to OUR big kid home, and gave them all a suprise, which was our Engagement. (It was memorable, did I say that? I'll bore you with the story sometime)

...but the other night, my love asked me if I would like to have a party on my birthday.... Well, what do you think kids? Should I have a party on my birthday? Will there be anyone in town for it? Hmmmmmm, I shall ponder.


ps: I'm also not fussy this year for gifts. All J and I want are Home Depot gift cards in ANY denomination. Okay, maybe the definitive Monty Python DVD Collectors Set...But THAT'S IT!!!
pps: I don't want anymore Spiderman anything. Seriously.

ppps: The one tradition I've done since I was 10, is to get up around 5:50 a.m. and spend the last couple of minutes as my younger self. (I was born at 5:53 am.) If I'm feeling awake for it, I'll blog you guys with my last few moments as a 20 something.

Yknow, Old Saint Nick was a bit of a dick...

As some of you know, I work part-time at a store that shills theatrical make-up/supplies and also formal wear. 12-15 hours a week. Chump change, but when you buy a house and plan on getting married, well... poppa gotta pay the bills. So it pains me to say this, but during the holidays (Halloween and X-mas respectively) we get some, how do you say? Ah yes...characters.

Take this Joe Rogan, Fear-Factor looking guy that comes in tonight looking for a Santy-suit. Normally, no big whoop- But when you come in 5 MINUTES BEFORE CLOSING (hint: Don't EVER go into a store right before they close. I now sympathize with those poor souls who only want to go home. If you know when they close, go WELL in advance. Trust me, you'll make someones day without realizing it) I start to shut down my normal customer oriented facade, and turn into an uber-snoot. (Remember, our costume rental portion closes at 6pm. This is almost 3 hours later) He whiiiiiines to me about how he is almost outta gas and was told (By a day-worker, I'm guessing) that our store is open late. I think, "I'll be this guys hero and sell him his festive suit, and get to the gym in time to burn the chubs and some frustration." Look on the bright side, I say!

Well, he balks at the purchase price, and wants to rent. While financially this is a better choice, it means trying on stuff. And try on he did. For 30 minutes. And he bitched. Vocally, so that I could be his audience.

Folks, this is the 16th Santa I've put out the door. Every one had a different gripe regarding the suit, whether it be the quality, the beard, the faux-boot covers. Every-single-one. I eat spoonfuls of ka-ka every day at my big-kid job. I don't need Kris Kringle here giving me my after dinner palate cleanser.

I finally got rid of him...along with my sugar plum dreams of "wailing on my pecs & lats". I think, the stars willing, if I get into the Chan, that it would be a significantly better 2nd job than the shite I have to wade through there. Spirit of giving my ass. When you are 5' 6" ( I saw your drivers license you lying midget...trying to pass for 5'10"? I AM 5' 10"!!!! Peter Parker's Height, dammit!!!) Do not expect to fit into a big man's fat suit. It isn't "fitted" douchebag. It's meant for a right jolly old elf. Hell, even I bought a Santy Suit. (For my winter tours. "Atkins Clause". Get it? An excuse for a "skinny Santa". Eat, poppa, eat...No one likes a skinny Santa. )

Someday I'll rail on about the tux rentals and the type of clientele. But not today.

G- Thank you for the Turkey Day invite again. It made me feel really good. Really.
Raven- I need a tree made of Brooks Brothers Ties.
Portland- This too shall pass.
Jabas- If I win the lottery, we're going to Disney World. I need a vacation.
Molly Molly Buck Buck- Thanks for reading my crap.
Tallen- Fixing up my house sucks. I know it's worth it...but it sucks
Kaiser- Thank YOU for inviting me to the Vikes. I haven't seen a game since '95 (vs. the Bucs...we lost) but I was gussy-ing up said house when you called.

It's not what you know...you know?

Our 1st Henry V rehearsal was fine. I love the play, and I'm likin’ the group so far, which should say something. I have this ritual of trying to memorize my lines before the 1st rehearsal- and I was getting along juuuussst fine, when my fiancee’ encourages me to audition at her place of employment. So again, I stop with the scanning, and start with the song learning. It got me thinking:

I’ve auditioned at her place of employment before- Several times in fact. Since that I’m not a strooong singer or a very good dancer (2 baboons humping are more graceful) I’ve always auditioned with the proverbial grain of salt. And since I could hear the other singers filling up the place with sound, I’d instantly realize that, hmmmm, I don’t think I'm cut out for these kind of shows. The last audition I attended, the director asked me “well what shows are you doing right now?” or “Good voice for an actor”…whatever the fuck that meant.

To qualify those comments, I don’t have the same shitty attitude some (not all) actors have for musical theatre. I enjoy it, (when it's done well anyway...just like regular plays) I happen to enjoy performing in them (Just like regular plays) and most audiences seem to like the musicals versus other plays I’ve performed. People like singin' and dancin'.

Add some exposed weenies and boobies, and you've got "Hair".

So, I’ve heard some people call the performers at the Chan “Chan-O-Saurs”, and the theatre is rampant with nepotism. I’ve also heard folks say they only cast who they know, the shows are boring, how could you work there doing the same shit over and over and over again…The BEST is when people who don’t know my fiancee’ works there, have rolled their eyes and flung disparaging comments about, of all shows,. “Cats”. Ooooooooo you’re ripping on “Cats”. THAT’s a hard target.

And I won’t forget what my Freshmen College “Intro to Acting” prof said about it: Musical Theatre is not true theatre except for the musical Cabaret. Anyone who thinks differently should change their major or work at Chan. Dick Head.

Well, some of what you’ve heard about the is true. But when you are a “for-profit” theatre making the big-bucks and paying your actors the big-bucks, you usually go with the folks you know will do a good job. And, , it’s not like there is anyone in our small theatre community who has never pre-cast a show. (Fairness-Schmairness: It happens- get over it.) And man-oh -man, can we say job security? Hello? You’re getting paid to be a performer! Worse things can and will happen.

If you get bored, quit. If you don’t think you could hack it, don’t audition. And I have no problem doing shit like this. And I don’t mind routine. (Which is why I like film so much. You wait and wait and wait. You’ll shoot a bunch of times. It’s fun)

So, I’ve been called back. I thought my singing sucked. When the director asked me the same question as last time: “So what are you working on now?” I was ready to pack my bags. Except he followed up with question #2 “What are you doing next Monday at 11 am?)

I am doubtful I’ll get the gig, but it still feels pretty damn good to get called back.

You got something for my cracks???

Yeah. So the new abode has ceiling/wall cracks. The house was built in 1928 for pity's sake. I hope I'm still up and humping around at age 80, y'know? So does anyone know a respectable brand of crack filler? We have the old plaster/lathe walls, with a little texture to them. We gotta fill the butt-cracks before painting so time is of the essence.

Man, did any of you ever call sex "humping"? That is a funny word- humping.
"How was your date?" "Great, great...we had dinner, saw a show, went out for cocktails, I spent the night and we humped..." "Wow, was it a good hump?" I'm thouroughly amusing myself at this point.

So, I royally dorked up my foot at karate. (Specifically, My big toe)I would love to say that it was from sparring, or breaking a board, or something cool. As it turns out, I was dorking around for some of the junior students to make 'em laugh- (And get them to do their drills better) so I scampered behind them saying "Hurry Up, Hurry Up, MOOOOOVE!!!!" taking these little shuffly steps... and I came straight down on the mat with my big toe CUH-RACK! Bruised instantly. (Which was kinda cool to watch happen) Although now it's looking pretty gnarly, very "John Merrick-esque". (I'll be fine, gentle readers. I've had worse.)

Hellooo? Feeling like the Omega Man here....

Did anyone else have to show up to work today?

That's what I get for not taking the day after T-Day off. (in all fairness, I'm only working a 1/2 day) I show up at the office, and there are only 8 other cars in the Parking Lot. 5 other peeps are on my floor. They too, should have requested a personal day. The NYSE closed at Noon CST today, so really there is no point to any of the employees being here. Occupational hazard of working in the insurance game. Pretty soon, we'll start scavenging the "outside world" for survivors.

So here I sit, broken hearted, tried to blog, but only.. HEY OHHHH!!!


House Stuff: Lawn is done. No more outdoor PJ's for us until spring of next year. Thank God. 26 bags of leaves, brush , and grass clippings. It was 28 degrees out yesterday (Fahrenheit, my metric babies) and I mowed the football field. The grass was still remarkably green too. Our back yard will be fantastic for playing catch, or perhaps a unique game of croquet. I wrote that last line to see if I could fit 2 words where the "Q" sounds like a "K". Okay, I didn't. Anyway, he doesn't read this, but I want to thank my dad- "P the Senior" for coming over and being so "gung-ho". It was good bonding time for dad, the dog, and moi. I'm off of my leaf vendetta. Apologies....

So 2 days in a row, I've gorged. This does wonders for the dysmorphia. 2 Families. 2 Opportunities to over-indulge. No dessert here, Portland- I was too full. My esophagus burned from all of the food that wanted to come right back up. Gross? Not as bad as I felt on my drives home.

Little family differences:

My fam. Brings a "Turkey Breast" (A roasted, slicable feast from which they create sandwich meat at the deli) Oyster stuffing (heaven) sweet taters, mash taters, pasta (For the bro's wife) and roasted veggies, French silk pie, and wine.

J's fam? Traditional bird, regular stuffing, mashed taters, sweet taters, etc...and lefse. If you've never ingested this Norweigian delicacy, it looks kinda like tortilla's...wrapped around butter (usually) and sprinkled w/sugar. I ate 2.

I'm not thinking clearly today.This weekend should clear my head... Oh the weekend, weekend... I'll be filling cracks at the new digs. (tee-hee...filling cracks)

Blogs to look forward to:
Why working 3 jobs, gigging, moving, trying to get married really sucks. Let me tell you- the bosses at jobs # 2 and 3 reeeeally fucked up this time. So what get's to suffer? That's right: Out of 16 rehearsals for Henry V, I may only get to attend 4. This ticks me off...big time.


PS: G- Thank you for the invite. I was out all day, but still appreciate you thinking of me.

...and I'll be dishing about the big kid birthday coming up this X-mas. Hence, the creative title of this blog.

Masochistic Turkey

A new name for a band. Catchy, huh?


Got the homestead paperworks filed, which marks the last stamp on home-bonership. We can now safely file taxes next year. Next step? Driver's licenses. (Maybe this time I won't wear a turtleneck)

We had a case of "small-worldliness" today. We ran into Tallen at the Homestead Filing place. Folks, this is why it's always a good idea to at least dress a little bit nicer when you go out in public. We didn't have make up on, we're looking like we just rolled-out-of bed. Go figure. We're in the big city for all of an hour, not expecting to see anyone, and Murphy's Law holds up a mirror and says "Do you think that maybe you should've combed your hair, P?"

After that rigamarole was completed, we grabbed a spot of lunch @ the good ole' Irish Pub, 'cross the street. There, I run into Amy L, an old school chum of mine. Well, once again I'm introducing my fiancee' and myself and I'm lookin' like annus. Major-annus.

I shoulda worn a hat.

No turkey for me tomorrow. 1st time in memory that I won't celebrate Turkey Day ON Thanksgiving. I'm gonna miss the cermony. I'm having din din tonight w/my folks and brother/wife (J has to work) and tomorrow, I imagine I'll be at the house priming the walls and stripping the borders. (Wallpaper, is EVIL!!! EVIL EVIL EVIL!! Decorative Border?? Impo-LITE and EVIL!!!) J has a 2pm Matinee, and we may stop over later to visit w/her folks in the evening, but only visit.

Normally, my turkey days have been a lot of exercising, even a nice 3 mile jog the morning of, to get my metabolism nice and ready for the decadent richness with which I'll be bombarding myself. Last year, we did 2 Turkey Days. Prior to this, it was always a gathering at my G-Ma Pat's (now, big brother's house.) With new wives and fiancee's, it's difficult to map a definitive gameplan. I am grateful, but ultimately I suffer from a tinge of melancholia for the "old days".

But, I now have a house, and a beautiful gal who loves me. Even when I don't comb my hair.

I need muff....

Ear muffs to be exact. Mine always seem to disappear like socks from the dryer. Galyans currently have the "wrap 'round the back 'O the head" brand that I like so well...(You know, so they don't muss up my thinning coiffure?) I went to the ole Bullseye to get some and they had nary a pair in boys styles. (I did get some other cold weather runnin' gear like a turtleneck, but now I need some new smeggin' shoes. I just tossed my old "outdoorsey" runners )

So the house. The house. It's ours. And we've been working on it almost daily since the closing. The tacky carpeting is kaput, along with all the offending staples. (And oohhhh so many staples) We've cleaned a bit, and got mucho lawn stuff done (Before the weather gets reeeally fricking chilly) Can you imagine raking a football field? Go on. Imagine. That, my friends, is the back yard. (Apolgies for the hyperbole, but it's got a pretty big lot for the city.)

I'll miss this old place though. It was close enough to Minnehaha parkway for a great, scenic jog (Oh, the Mansions) . A stone's throw to Harriet (+ the rest of the Chain of Lakes) and the Harriet Rose Garden. There's the Washburn tower (Big gothic CEEment water tower, w/reliefs of eagles and 12th Century English Soldiers.) Great food (Fresh Wok) a Driveway. Mostly finished home.

But... it ain't ours.

(Okay, if you're bored today read on, but stop now if you don't want the Keilloresque digression. Seriously. You've been warned. Ready?)

I've lived in many different places around Mpls since age 18It's not that I dislike "The Paul" but really I've just never found a place that I cottoned to. Personally, I think the whole Mpls vs. StPl arguments are a little dumb, even if they are supposed to be playful jest. Now, if it was country vs. city, yeah, have at it. For the rest of you: Here's a life. Going cheap: Now get it.

I've always had this weird affinity for NE Mpls too. My 1st apt was a 2 BR upper in NE. Only $375 a month!!! Then, I lived there briefly in 2000-01 B4 heading to Western ND. ( Not a big place, but it was fun giving my friends directions: "Get off on my Johnson street....") I once dated a gal in NE for a while. Even celebrated solstices for a couple of years w/Her mom and mom's partner after we split.

It's a centralized, safer neighborhood than many you'll find in the Minne Apple, and has a great sense of history. (Not to mention a cheap liquor store not 5 minutes away. Maybe not as important as the shopping mall w/Target/ Rainbow/& Home Depot in it, but they have tremendously low prices.)

Well guess what? Now I'm a resident. Full Time. With a house that needs an updated garage, kitchen, bath, (Basement BR too.) and a new range, fridge, DW (It doesn't have one, but I want one.) sanded floors, wall and ceiling cracks repaired, staircase to basement reinforced, new washer/dryer, dining room table and chairs, creative landscaping, gardens, painted.....ummmm yeah.

But it's ours : )



ps: Not to sound gripey. Here's the boner...I mean bonuses- New electric/water heater/roof/shingles/house dehumidifier/central air/1300 sq ft/ 1.5 BR/wine (or canning) room/dry basement (no mold)/ shop/ 3BR's/ spacious lower level/HW floors/breakfast nook (we have a fucking NOOK yo!!!) and limitless potential.

pps: And this is Random. To the dickhead at the Y who, out of 12 OPEN working shower heads, decides to sally up at the one next to mine and stare....That was just fuckin rude. I know my bod, and "it" is not that impressive (despite the trimming. ). My body, is not impressive, nor was I amused or flattered. So quit frickin staring you perv. I don't think I'll be hitting that Y anymore. I'll rant about it later.

Must be fate....

I'll "house-dish" later. I had some weird goings-on this weekend that I thought I'd share.


So this Saturday I blogged about this "big" audition I had & how I was extremely non-plussed with my own performance. It was a long blog, (As you've come to expect) and given that I am not typically prone to self deprecation of that magnitude...well let's just say I was pretty nasty to myself. Waaaay too introspective and on top of that, I was asking the big questions. And to be perfectly honest- (As opposed to what, P? Imperfect honesty? You're honest, but you suck at it?) y'all didn't need to all see that side of moi.

Which is what brings me to the weird part: Apparently my PC doesn't think you need to see it either. I went to post it, and my system crashed. Timed Out. Nada was saved. All that carpal tunnel in the toilet, and I was late for a lunch date. (With no desire to re-type it.)


Kismet has saved me on numerous occasions from this type of emotional gaffe (All surrounding 4 long-term ex-gf's), and I'd really like to share:
1st Ex: (Together 3.5 years) I wrote a long letter, reeking with all of those "we've both made mistakes/I'm so sorry this couldn't last/barfeddy barfeddy barfeddy"...
Mailed it....returned due to insufficient postage. (Stamps had just increased in prices that month. Who knew?)
Ex #2: (1.5 years) Same letter, fell out of my car into the driveway. It was April. The letter was trashed.
#3 (1.5 years) I'm brilliant- I start to really buy into this whole kismet thing, and realize after writing the newest emotionally charged "goodbye" letter, I should just throw it out with all her old pics! A spiritual cleansing of sorts. (Ok- I'm not wont to do that type of thing, but I was 23, living alone, and so very emotional.) So, I put it all in a box, set the letter on fire (Ah...catharsis!) and toss it (wait for it!) into a dumpster (waiiiit for it!!!) which caught on fire. Yeah. I was covered in coffee grounds, soot, and banana peels before I was able to put that fucker out. This is why I don't do the whole "cathartic-ex-gf-picture-burning-tossing" thing.
Too Dangerous.
#4 (2 years): Same type of letter, but now containing many references to the cat we owned together. Mailed it. Forgot to put a stamp on it. The End.


So you see readers, I may have been subconsiously sabotaging my attempts to show these ex's just how big of a pathetic and mopey boob I was (am). And it is indeed probably better that they didn't see all of that. I don't possess much of a high gloss, so I need to muster all of the dignity I can.


Last thing: I had such an overwhelming state of deja vu last night w/J. Down to the letter of our conversation and to the fact that she was eating her mini-twix bars.
FUH-reaked me out. She just stared at me like I was weird. Pretty soon we were both sleeping, and it really didn't matter any more. : )

We did it. It's ours. Northeast:

Here we come!

Soooo Close....yet so far away.

Damn you Hall and Oates for creating this title. "Portland" was on this song-title header kick and I think it's spread to my blog.

Thursday, 12:00pm. Potential close date. I've jumped through so many GD hoops, I may audition for Ringling Bros. Keep your fingers crossed, since I haven't been this scared/nervous since I proposed. And that wound up with the cat lit on fire!

I had a boatload to chat about, but I think I'm a little brain-clogged. Soooo: I got into a fight last night, did I tell you?

The co-instructor at my dojo (dojang/kwoon/martial arts studio) did something kinda weird last night in class, by asking us what we would like to do. I suggest: "if Mr. Tran has his gear, can we fight?" To which She says "Sure. just don't tell Mr____" (Mind you, class consisted of me and Mr. Tran so I felt comfortable asking. ) btw- 2 people in class? Join Karate people!

And fight we did. She even put a"Prince" CD on for us. By the end of the night I was wiped out, sweating what can only be described as "bullets of Mazola" from my pores. We were delirious from the effort. And today? I can barely move my body. My forearms look like I have track marks on the wrong side. Still- it felt wonderful. 30 minutes of cathartic sparring, to alleviate all of this house-buying nonsense. I even felt ambitious enough to go for a run afterward (It was a beautiful evening, you know? Not many 40 + degree nights left here in MN. I didn't wanna waste it. )

Which will bring me to my next topic 'o blogging. What I will miss about my current 'hood. If I don't call in sick tomorrow, and if we do, indeed get this house I promise to tell you then. Night my Sweeties.

ps: If you ever get into a fight , it will NEVER go the way you want it. Despite the beautiful choreography you may see in movies or in your head. Trust me on this.

Too, too beautiful...

It is the last beautiful weekend of the year, they say. 2 gorgeous days of sunny, crisp weather. The kind where you can still go for a run w/o gloves or a hat (And the 6 other layers I'm gonna be wearing for the next 6 months.) so run, run I did. AAaand I had to work at the nightmare factory which is job # 2, but I digress.

My Best Bud Ssssteve came over on Saturday to sign/notarize some paperwork that J and I need for the rassin-frassin house. I needed paperwork signed by a Notary...I just happen to know a Notary. Kismet. He let us bitch about this whole home buying process which, ultimately, was very kind of him- And for this guy, it's par for the course- I've known him for over 12 years and truly he is a gifted listener. And no, J does not hate you. She thinks you're "adorable".

Sunday, it is official. I'm done raking. I will rake no more, forever.


That night, I met up with my other pal McHard-on for the Queens game. He's gonna be in my weddin', and we don't get to always spend a heckuva lot of time together. So I encourage you all, please go out and touch someone you haven't touched in a while...(Wait, that didn't come out right at all)

Scccrreeeeech- Due to a weird Texas Law (That has since been repealed) A serial killer imprisoned in 1982 COULD get probation in 2006? It's Texas, right? I mean, he only admitted to his crimes and swore he would do it again if he were to be released. (Now, folks- The good people of MI are trying to get the guy on a murder charge. I still think it's frickin weird. How many women is he accused of 86'ing? Over 40? Yeah, I don't think he's going anywhere.)

Peeps, give your love and healing vibes to another "J" (The Godfathers "J", not mine.)
She had an accident which was truly nasty, nasty, nasty. Please, send positive thoughts to her for a speedy recovery.

I'm gonna buy a Santa Suit. Just because. And all will love me in my red, holiday, Santa-liness.

The Fabulous Diva, Miz "M"

I'll bitch about the house stuff later. It's made me madder than a swatted wasp.

I want my readers to know my girl. Y'see, the birth of today's blog is a result of a few comments I've had from friends who don't know her that well, except in passing. She's a little introverted you see, and we know a lot of folks who are talkers (myself included) and sometimes, just sometimes, she doesn't always feel included in conversations. (Has anybody ever felt that way. Never asked your opinion, or never had the chance to be given voice? It can be a little demoralizing) This blog contains spoilers, so skip to the bottom if you don't want to know how the story ends.

She grew up in Crystal, MN. (NW Mpls suburb, a stone's throw from my hometown)
Went to Cooper High School. (She did some shows w/Steve Zahn, if any of y'all know that guy)
She's a LEO. If you subscribe to Astrology, you'll understand that she is a Leo in every sense of the word. Focused, Fiery, Passionate, and certainly not afraid of confrontation.
She's known since she was 9 that she wanted to perform. And she loves it. Loves, performing. Makes her happiest. And I don't think I've met a performer who wears it on her sleeve like she does.
So what does she do? Performer/Entertainer (of course) . Member of the AEA, and AGVA. Currently in the employs of Chanhassen Dinner Theatres, (As performer, U/S, and ass't choreographer)Choreograph's Show Choir in Bloomington, Choreograph's various HS musical productions, teaches dance at a studio, gives 1 hr private lessons. (We have a heavy-ass dance floor) She's worked at the Ordway , Disney Stage Spectacular (As Cruella DeVille), and the 2000 Superbowl Halftime Show. (All stuff you'd find in her bio)

Because she's got the performers lifestyle, she doesn't have a lot of time to pursue fun, relaxing or otherwise superflous fancies: (Like reading a book, getting hooked on a TV show, Seeing all the new movie releases etc) So, everything generally winds up being work related. We're just catching up with some 2002 films we haven't seen, like "Road to Perdition"

She's got almost boundless energy at home, and is very "anti-procrastination". (She helps keep a random guy like me focused anyway.)

She's lived in NY, but came back. (I'll let her tell the reasons)
The girl Loves Disney, Barbies (She owns every Barbie she was ever given. Literally 100's upon 100's. ) , Angels (See: Our bathroom), and Marilyn Monroe.
Love's Movie Musicals. (Gene Kelley, Danny Kaye, Cyd Charisse) and one of her Favorite movies is "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"
Favorite Wine- Pinot Grigio (After my own heart) Favorite Cocktail- The Cosmo
(Although she's never seen an episode of Sex and the City. Strange?)
Can't eat vegetables. (Except Cukes, snap peas, and tomatoes. Veggies cause her great ill.)
Doesn't eat the red meat or porky-pork, but LOVES grilled salmon and chicken.
Does the funniest Cher impression I've ever seen.
HATES laundry and Leaves (She's a little OCD w/Laundry and Raking like I am with dusting and dishes)
Can't really listen to music without dancing. It's awesome
Her brain doesn't shut down ever.


I happen to think that she's really cool, guys. Because of her big ole' expressive brown eyes (Which look like they'll bore into your head) she's sometimes labeled as very "Intense", but truly, she's the most down to earth gal I've met, and one of the most generous spirited persons you could want to know.

So if, on those rare occasions, we're all ever out having a drink...say "Hi" I'd love it if people could see what I do.

: )

Mmmmmm Donuts

2 big old boxes. Right there at the mail station. Can you smell the eclair-y goodness?
I turned to my co-worker who was holding an apple fritter under my nose. "Want one?" sez she..."No thank you" smiled I...."WHY?!!?" sez she. Did she just get insulted over my pastry refusal? Apparently. Movin' on-

Left work a titch early yesterday so I could catnap and head to a play reading @ the Playwrights Center. It was okay, and just so-so. I saw some peeps I hadn't seen in a goodly while, which I really enjoy. Read a (lackluster) play that had some genuinely funny moments...only to be hampered by a somewhat listless narrative. Kinda weird to be sitting on chairs w/music stands in front of you, reading from a script, while 10-15 people watch you "read". I understand the rationale, I'm just saying, it feels weird.
(10-15 people. By most TC small theatre accounts, a good house. : ) Oooops! Was that my "out loud" voice?

So yeah, got Chinese for the Misses. Jogged/Tapped/worked on some music and went to bed. Nothing remarkable. 10:30pm, and I shut down. ( I remember a couple of kisses when she got home, but mostly oblivion.)

She's a peach. The bed was empty when I got up at 5:45am, so I went up to the TV room to find her "Cocooned" in blankets on the floor, with the congealing remains of Sweet and Sour Chicken/Fried Rice next to her. I woke her up saying "Ohhh look, look at ze beeyootiful botterfly" (Ala Heimlich in "Bugs Life") I should really blog about her sometime...I'm sure people are getting indigestion from all the sentiment.

Rassin' Frassin' House Crap!!!!

So our mortgage guy calls sayin': "Bad news buddy- Because JM is a performer, and works several different jobs, we cannot have her on the loan." Okay, so what do we do to buy this fuckin house? Well, you'll share the title, the loan will simply be in your name and we'll have to nudge up your interest rate 1/8 %...OH, and we're not sure you can close by the 18th. Did I mention that if we welch on the close date (which has changed 3 times) we lose our earnest $ and they put the home back on the market? (Earnest $ being $1000.00. KnowwhutImean, Vern?)

S'Wonderful. My personal debt will now be (potentially) increased by almost $180K.
I'm an old man. I can't jump through any more of these goddamn hoops. I gave the guy hell for about 10 minutes, had to leave work to drive to Bloomington so that I could sign/initial the appropriate papers and then haul a$$ back to Plymouth to work job # 2.
I'm gonna write a primer called "home buying for actors". Seriously. Learn from my mistakes padawans.

I mean, so she works 50 gazillion different jobs...she's employed, right? Incidentally, there is a townhome in Albertville (read: Egypt) that is 2300 sq ft, 3BR/2BA for $169K.
Albertville. Or if I were to move out there, "Fat Albertville" hey, hey, hey.

So yeah, despite a calm night at Knights, A nice workout, and a nice evening w/the future Mrs...I'm bone dog tired. Didn't sleep a wink.

That's a DAMN fine cup of coffee...

Anyone catch the Twin Peaks reference?

Vikes lost last night. Big old surprise. I was at the dojo so I didn't catch the whole she-bang...but enough to hear that we were trailing at the half, and something about being 3-15 when trailing at the half. I didn't like those odds. Pishaw...I'm too fairweather to really care. Although, in the interest of camaraderie, I did get asked to hang w/some friends out in the Saint of Paul. Now, I'm not sayin...but there was a really funny message on my Cell phone. It went something like " Details my ASS! That is all"

I laughed a goodly while at that one.

And I was up late again last night. Brain was racing. Figures. The day before we stuck around the Chan "post show" to kibbitz with the cast, and wound up getting into some heavy convo's regarding...well, a lot of shite. (Which I'll use for blog fodder at a later time.) Got home at 1am. (Speaking of Twin Peaks, her folks jokingly lambasted me for not having any intermission Pie. They just stared incredulously when I said I don’t really do sweets that often!) Any way, I'm all dog-tired today.

Our cafeteria here at the Stag, dispenses coffee, which unfortunately tends to lean towards the more...how shall I say, "ambitious".

Nary a French Vanilla, French Roast, Irish Cream, or even a modestly flavored decaf.
No no no, they have flavors like "Cotton Candy", "Boubon Street Streusal" (Bourbon, being misspelled) "Candy Apple", "Peppermint Medley", "Roasters Select" (Tastes like burnt grounds) and "Eggnog dream". Grody. They might as well have flavors like "Creamed Corn" or "Roast Beef" (That's what the decaf tastes like), or how about "Pickled Herring"? And the only palatable flavor in my experience..has been: "Jamaican Me Crazy". Closest thing we have to "French Vanilla". I weigh the merits on whether it is going to be a good day or bad day at work based solely on that. If not, the day is completely down the tubes. Coffee drinkers, can I get a jittery witness- If you drink the filthy stuff (That I love so much), how do you take your poison???

'Scuse me while I catch my breath

Man oh Maneschewitz. 2 Days in a row I've had douchebags come into my store at closing and want to "look around". Mmmmmkay. Figure it out douchebags!!! 8:30pm means closed! 5pm means closed!!!!

So my baby's show officially "opened" on Friday. 1 good review 1 bad review. Par for the course when it comes to reviews from the TC rags. Although, they were pretty accurate descriptions. I was able to get to the florist for an opening night bouquet and card. Sliced the f##k outta my thumb on the flowers, but I felt comfortable with a very aesthetic bouquet. (No "Super America" roses here baby!! Even though I know deep down she'd be happy if I brought a wilted carnation home...I wanted to make her opening a big deal. I think she like it. But MAN did I stay up too late. )

Sat Night, the Jabas came over for cocktails and a little "Mudslinger". He was EARLY, meaning he caught me in my robe and socks while I was lighting candles. It probably came across as a half assed seduction scene. I promise I'll have Skyy next time you stop over. And maybe real Martini glasses instead of the small ones. I'm back to being a shit host. : ( Thanks again though for being my "man-date". KWT told me I she thought I was a woman and ALSO that I was Jabas' date. Great, one more thing to feel reeeeeally good about. I'm now a big, fat, ugly woman. I've changed the direction of this blog entirely.

The show itself was okay. I had heard of some production problems during the rehearsal and it showed through in places. Pseudo-mean comment aside, Karen WT is a riot and had me in stiches every time she was on stage. Laurine Price was also good, and super cute...but for some strange reason I though she was AEA after "Hair"...Hmmmmm

Afterwards, J and I hit Tracys for snacks and booze. Thanks to SF and JM for joining us afterwards. We had some lively discussions regarding the TC theatre scene, and it got my brain racing. So I may post at Callboard.org. (Where you'll find my reviews for the shows) Jabas...will probably never drive home with me again. ("WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING A##HOLE!!" "AHHHH F### YOU...BIIIIITCCH!!! Seriously...they make me weep for the future. Do not cross, when the car is crossing.)

Sunday Biggie came over and fixed my PC (again) and then it was off for 2 shows- Monsters, W and F at the Loring and AG at the chan. Lots of theatre and I think that I'll get into my post-show diatribes a later time.

It's getting cold folks. I'm cutting 2 holes in my Kenneth Cole sweater. Know what I mean?

ps: Kai-Ser....Power Cardio ='s Power GAAAAYYYYY!!!!! (I am kidding.) I'm liking my routine all right bro'. I just need about 6 more hours a day to work out as much as I'd like and get that coveted 6-pack. Right now it's important to me to get to the dojo 3 times a week minimum. So, I stay with the "4 Pack" and hate my nipples.

When you have BDD, you don't like yourself in your BVD's

I got another eye roll today after I made a "chubster" comment about myself. Folks, I want to let y'all in on a little secret- I know that I'm not obese. I do.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder is when you look at yourself in the mirror and you don't like what you see. It isn't technically an "eating" disorder, although they can sometimes hold hand (Me? I love food/love eating and I hate barfing. Capisce?) but when I stand in front of a mirror in my glory, I don't see a well built attractive guy. You become very objective, and hyper critical. I know how I'd like to look, I just don't see it.

Rationale? (Not that it would make a lot of sense, or that there is ANY justification outside the fact that I'm an absolute Loon.)

Maybe it was reading too many comics as a kid. (Seeing those "superhero" physiques) Maybe it was growing up a little on the chunky side. (The truffle shuffle woulda been easy. Kids at my school liked slapping your tummy with a spit-wet open palm) Or my first boy-girl hug when Angie W told me she loved my hair...and my love handles.

Could be the 3 cheeseburgers and a shake from Mickey D's I'd get daily as a young man, or the girlfriends who loved eating out- (Every damn day) Or the young lady who cheated on me with dude she called "The hot guy from Health Class...he's a body builder you know??" That got me a little self consciuous. Granted, I weighed about 40 sandwiches more than I weigh now. Or as recently as about 3 years ago, practicing kata's stripped to the waist in my living room and hearing the old gf roommate laugh at me and say "It's kinda funny how your stomach sticks out in front." Or 2 weeks ago when a buddy came over and saw a picture of me poolside, and said "Wow you look bigger, how many years ago was that?" I said, "It was last month- in Vegas" The picture is now my motivation to stay in shape.

Or maybe, how my raven haired fiancee' is so very beautiful, and in great shape to boot...(Most days she'd disagree with me on both counts, but we both do this to ourselves. To her credit, she has given me the best encouragement: "If you think you look that way, DO something about it. At least working out you'll feel better." BTW This is the girl that loves her nightly Cow Tracks ice cream and cookies.)


Point is, I'm in tune with my machine. My weight fluctuates within a 10-15 lb radius depending on how I eat, and how active I am. Where I gain weight, is right on the old belly and handles. When I start exercising, I really only lose it off of my face, arms, and legs 1st...tummy last.

Since my dad went in for an angioplasty years ago, my fam took a more conscientious approach to our diet. (Well, he still likes his Culvers.) I try to be active, watch what I eat (and the content), studied A & P in college (well, before theater) and even went so far as to (almost) getting certified as a trainer. Still, I don't like my bod. I used to think if I wasn't good looking, then maybe I could be well built. But, I got stuck with a pretty dorky body frame and a messed up metabolism. And now, fat kid nipples.

I still get teased, ordering grilled chicken, salads, lo-fat muffins (They really suck...trust me) 86'ing mayo and cheese from sandwiches. ( I still like a good steak now and then) staying away from sweets and candy, drinking Diet beverages.

So you see guys, it isn't narcissism, or self abuse, it's more of an casual affected self-loathing. I don't look at other folks and judge or critique them and their bodies or shapes, on the contrary I love all sorts of nudity. (P, chill out) and I've been the "go-to fitness guy" at my office, writing health and wellness articles for our departmental newsletter- Something I'm all too happy to do, especially with a lot of unhappy and unfit suburbanite folks who need to get a little more active. And there are the "Good Nude Days" when I think I look okay. Then, there are other days when I could really care less.

You're brave, Kaiser and Raven, for walking around like you did on H'ween. I think I would've needed another 3 months of working out to get into that kinda fighting shape.

Meantime, I need to get my hand out of the Baked Lays in my desk drawer.

Busykins, Busykins and Culture shock

It's already gonna be a busy one folks.

Tonight I go to future brother- in- laws swearing in ceremony. (He'll be "5-0" for the Crystal PD.)
Tomorrow, back to the bump and grind of the 2 jobby day. (I pray that the costume shop will be quiet the weekend following H'ween)
Saturday, more Kung-Fu (btw portland: I completely understand the frustration of having those twitchy achey muscle problems. Since hitting the dojo, I've been plague with starbursts of pain on my feetsies and grrroinage. My darling Julio has a rolled ankle and a pinched nerve in her shoulder from her show already, and she won't get a day off to heal until next monday!) ...and then?

Culture Shock
Saturday night I go out w/Kaiser and Jabas to see "the Mudslinger Party". I was a part of the read through a few months back and it was a funny script. I'll be interested in finally seeing it "live". And I won't lie, if they meet at my place it'll be nice to host for a bit. Kaiser, you are going right? I fear that Josh may attempt taking advantage of me on the date.

Sunday afternoon the fiancee' and I will hit "Monster's Witches and Freaks" at the Loring, and that night I get to see "AG" again at the Chanhassen. (Hey, free dinner and a show. And how I do love their "Chicken Chan")

"MW&F" had a pretty good review in the Press, but the Strib didn't like it all that much. (Flip Floppers) To her credit, Jules did get 2 nice mentions in both reviews for her choreography. She makes me proud folks.

And why, pray tell will I be seeing "AG" again so soon after just seeing it last week? Well, it's a good show, free din-din, and a chance to spend a little (little) QT with the Future Wife and her family. I won't lie. I like Musicals. Truly I do. I like being in 'em, and (If they're good) I like to see them. Saw "Cats" 5 times. No lie. She was freakin good in that show...but damn, did she get thin from all that dancing. (Like, you know, "wiry muscle-y" thin. Not skinny, mind you. It's just weird to see that much muscle all ripply flippy underneath skin that close up!)

Well...crap.

It seems very possible that we'll be suffering through 4 more years of the same mongering regime. (Although, it ain't over til it's over, or until the last chad has been punched. Damn you Ohio...Damn you...) Harumph.


My feet hurt. Bad. I've 86'ed Ibuprofen and pain killers from my morning pill-poppin regimen in order to ascertain where exactly the ow'ies are located. (Seriously, I only take a multi-vite and some herbals. Thass all. ) But durn rass & frass, I'm one hurtin' unit. Love Hate relationship with karate right now.

Raven's blog and my achey dogs makes me think of dancing. I haven't been dancing in an age. A lot of it is lack of time, but also it kinda ties back in to why I don't go bar hopping or clubbing any more. It's like this, see?:

After being a serial monogamist in HS and my 1st year of college, I started to cut loose a little more . Frat parties, cast parties, and oh the clubs: Tropix, Waterworks, the Goldrush (Ughh, see if any of y'all remember that dump)Ground Zero, the Saloon (Yup. My "Techno" phase and I thought it had the best music. And when I was a little more Naive I thought it was cool that the people didn't mind if I wasn't wearing a shirt and my underpants were sticking out. Even funnier was how before my friend "S" came out, he ALWAYS wanted to go there : ), TNT, NRG, Industry, Banana Ho's, the Onion, 1st Ave (RIP), Glam Slam (nee' Quest. I hate it too, G and R ), Gabby's, the Metro. Some places with Dance Floors the size of an ashtray, pissy uptight people, horny dudes who...not getting a late night hook up, would vent their frustration on whoever was right next to them. (Occasionally my group) The corny bikini "shot" girls, the shirtless mimbo bouncers....It was a glorious time. The screens, flashers (That was my friend Ana. She was a nut, but I did love her spontaneity) the occasional cigarette burns.

After college, it became more about chasing "the specials". I formed new habit patterns, which went a little somethin' like dis:
Sunday, Tracys Bar & Grill for the Steak Specials and wooden nickels (& Vikings football) back to one of our apts for X-Files and booze.
Monday: Karaoke at the 90's
Tuesday: Trivia @ William's and 2 for ones.
Thursday: Back to Tracy's for TACO'S!!!!
Friday's- You get to whatever bar by 6 to start humping the happy hour.
Saturdays: Don't remember too much. Usually hipster clubs like Dakota or "The Lounge".
I had a flexible schedule at work, so I'd come in (eyes usually bloodshot) around 11.

There was plenty of naughtiness too, late at night. Plenty of pillowcases that smelled like ciggies and booze the next day....And after destroying my hotel room on my 25th (Golden) Birthday, I got a little too much perspective.
I made the mistake of asking a gal I had been, (ahem) "dancing with" if she wanted to "Get Serious" (I thought I was ready!!!) and she shot me down. That next week she brought her new BF to Williams, so I used that as an impetus to stop going there. (Ry-Gonn, that's why I have a nasty attitude about bar trivia. But I still love to answer those damnable questions.) Other reminders of how I needed some time off came about when I saw other ex's bringing their new BF's to hang out with. I became a "genin". That guy. The fringey quirky dude who's fun at parties. Bring him over, get him drunk, watch him make an ass of himself. And I would. (I have troubles with big groups when I'm drinking. I forget conversations too easily because I can't listen as well as I could. So I ask the same question over and over again. Funny again how well I DID listen back when I would try to get some.)

So I quitski. No more specials, no more 2 bottles of Morgan a week. And have become subsequently, quite boring. And quite insane.

I stopped hanging out with certain bad influences (Dudes who started doing coke. Don't get me on a "DARE" kick, but I very nearly beat them), got new friends (Love you small theatre mafia), got a gurlyfriend who was very serious and very focused, started drinking veeno as opposed to hard booziekins and beers. (Subsequently, she and I split. Different directions in life and all. But that is a tale best left buried 'neath the sands of time)

And I've grown slowly more insane. I don't know what it is. I guess need big shake ups to make changes in my lifestyle. I really need to force myself out of my comfort zone. (I call it a "little drill sergeant" telling myself what to do) Otherwise you'd all find me on a couch, with a cocktail watching the History channel. And I wouldn't be getting married. To "Le Bombshell". I'm fucked up. Really. Can't shut down the brain, and sometimes the mouth. JM is my saint though. She's just as fired up as I am, and that is the most wonderful thing to have in your life.

And we're gonna dance a lot on New Years. We did last year. And come to think about it I did bust out a little "1984" action in Saint Cloud last month. I haven't done the helicopter in ages. : )

Raven...I am Spider-Man. It was either that or I paint my face blue and wear a kilt. : )