Sad..but true

Quick Hits:
So I've cut down on my home-drinking (Too busy, too tired), fast-food (My bitches Chipotle and Subway) and I've 86'ed the snacks I keep here at work in my snack drawer. (Baked Lays, Fat-Free Pretzels, Trail Mix) and you know what...it's kept my weight down this winter. That's right, the winter lbs. have remained a non-issh. And when I do get time to hit the gym, the vascularity really pops out. (That delightful vein which runs along my brachialis muscle.) I still just look out of shape. Pooooochy...

It saddens me that 86'ing the 2 glasses of wine nightly is helping keep off the cookie dough ass. I'll miss our nightly trysts, Pinot. Oh Yes....
It probably didn't help me last night when I hit the Market and had 3. More on that later.

I've been dreaming about our kitchen. 2 nights in a row. Scary.

If you tag "boy" on the end of a sarcastic nick-name...it's hard for your opponent to "come-back". This dude in my cast (according to his school chum) likes wearing mascara. So I call him "Revlon-Boy". This snarky kid had nothin'! Yogurt Boy, Bowling Boy, Wet Boy, Porkchop Boy...Or Mr.Chicken Fingers... try it.

J and I were up til 1:30 "talking". Good stuff was aired out. But fuck-all if I'm not a tired mo-fo today.

Some lady posted a pic of her daughter next to the sign-up sheet for girl scout cookies. It's a pretty forced gesture by my reckoning. (Look at my daughter. She's so cute. BUY THE FUCKING COOKIES!!!) I thought about putting a post-it next to the picture that says "What flavor is she?" Tasteless, yes. But fun.
And does anyone else miss the name "Samoa's"? They're Caramel Deelights now, but some things just shouldn't change. "Somoan's: Do the humpty-hump...ah, do the humpty-hump."

I've the beginnings of a cold. My nose is running faster than an Olympic Sprinter on a BALCO binge. Got home from work ystdy w/every intention of hitting the Gym, The New House, and 'Fu. Nope. I passed out...and woke up even sicker. And did I do the right thing or what? That's right, I hit Market for my bi-annual visit. (Sally asked, P obeys.) And guess who didn't show? Sally. (sigh) I got there around 9, and left round 11. So take that boys. Start your drinking early with P!!!! I was exhausted...but it was good seeing the boys. Jabas, Kai-Sayer, Geef, Pust, and Carlton. I really should have asked the Geef how his Weef was doing. Sorry Geef.

Well now...

I got lost on the way home from my Old Log audition. That area...well it's just kinda fucked up. Bays, Inlets, the shire. And on a gloomy day that area had me bass ackwards. The audition went well, or I should say as well as I could do. The dude I read for was, kinda, like me, albeit 4 or 5 years ago. I'm fairly certain I didn't get the giglet, but hey...no worries. I think I passed an ex whilst driving away which was weird ju-ju: The gig wasn't meant to be.

Speaking of ex geefs- Got an email from the Bear. (geef circa 1996 to 1997) Welcome back to town Bear. Our relationship, gentle readers, is the reason I fear getting burned to death. I'll leave that story for another time, but damn...it was funny. Her family is also the reason (I humbly feel) I get along well with lesbians. Notice how I didn't say I "play" well with the leebs. I heck, I get along well with almost everybody. I'm an equal-opportunity get-alonger-wither...person. Type.

(I think I get along with them. Whatever. Most folks will wind up talking smack 'bout my crazy ass when I'm not around anyway. See chapter 11: "Paranoid Ex-Fat Kids, Their Nipples, and Smack-talkers". )

Quick Hit:
This is on fucked up state in our union. It was 15 below 3 days ago. Last night, the blowing wind was almost...warm? Not "Bahamanian" by any stretch, but weird to be outside and not freeze balls. I actually started to sweat whilst shovelling.

QH #2: American Idol premiered last night. I hate the show, but I'll admit...I do like watching the 1st 2 weeks worth of auditions. It scares and saddens me a bit to think folks to be that delusional. I mean, some of them actually take it sooo seriously and treat it like the "be all end all" of their lives. And it makes me laugh so goddamn hard to watch it. Granted, as a performer auditioning/getting denied is a way of life, so I find the reactions from contestants a little bit maudlin. Although, if I had a director tell me "That was simply AWFUL. Acting lessons won't help you P...off you go." I'd feel my complexes grow.

I think we should write a play on those shitty auditions. Whaddya think, Geef? (The director "Geef") Do you have enough shitty audition stories to make a funny bastardization of "A Chorus Line"?) It would be golden.

Tuesday Quick Hits

Long weekend, busy day today. Must dash.


1) After a week 1/2 of double-digit below zero temps and wind chills, 0 degrees can seem
positively balmy. I know Chicago is cold. I know Montana and No Dak both brag in
regards to how cold it gets. MN, can get fucking cold. Your boogers will freeze.

2) I've seen a couple of these "Kuik-E-Mart" convenience stores pop up 'round town. WTF?
Who are they trying to kid, man? Ohhhh, right right right. Copyright infringement
of my beloved Simpsons. My question is, who's working behind the counter, Apoo?
(Get it? Name change to prevent any copyright infr...nevermind)

3) Our kitchy lighting is almost rigged. We've 86'ed the idea of sheetrocking the up-
stairs BR. (Too much work, too little time) A layer o' Kilz, and then we can paint.
The color? "Neverwhere"...that's for all of my Gaiman fans. (Okay, it's "Ever-
more", but the gist was for all my Gaiman fans. Do I have any Gaiman fans? Is it
embarrassing to be named "Gay-Man"? What Kind of Superhero are you?)

4) J and I spent a part of the weekend being snippy. House stuff. It happens.

5) I 86'ed two parties this weekend in lieu of getting up ass-crack early to work on said
house. Some dorks in my cast actually left a prank call on my cell phone. Do people
actually prank anymore? Dirty messages? Kids today, I tell ya.

6) Our biggest house for Henry last weekend was 14. The Strib ran an erroneous calendar
entry claiming that our show closed last weekend. Nice. We still have one weekend
left kids. Is this what is stealing our thunder?:
http://pinwheelpictures.com/pointbreak/

7) Once again I try a jambalaya dish (Cheesecake Factory). It was delish, but the meta-
bolism kept me up half the night sweating. And I dreamt of recessed lighting.
I'm just not used to the rich food. So, the bags under my eyes will make me
look soooooo pretty for my Old Log Audition. Whatever. Pete'll get it anyway.
I read a description of the show, and it's waaay more his type o' gig. I look like
Robin Williams after a 6 day coke binge.

8) If you listend to WLTE long enough, the wuss rock songs all sort of blend together.
Seriously. In 7 hours, they played 3 Styx, 2 Journey's, and 4 Chicagoes. It remind-
ed me of the shit they would play during the "Snowball Slow Skate" at our local
roller rink "Skate Land". I won't even begin to bore you with my fat-kid on skates
stories.


I'm tired.

Message from Dr. King-

I had the day off. Soooo here's your MLK jr. day message. My favorite



"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in time of comfort and convenience....but rather where he stands in time of challenge, and controversy. "




So true.

A titch nipply...

So, I should comment on the weather for today. And the next few days.

Fuck.

Fuh-reezing balls outside folks. Or, as the Germans say, "Es ist balls gefreezin". So that isn't the actual German Colloquilism, but you get the point. It is so cold that it hurts, and it's actually supposed to get colder. (sighs...) Not much point bitchin'.

Randoms:
J is getting better. I wish she'd make her appt. w/the specialist. She's bound and determined to wait until after we move. Btw, books are heavy, so I'm really thinking about donating some of them. I mean Really, Really heavy. The couch/chair combo and mattresses won't weigh dick.

Henry V: Not a great show last night, and my head wasn't all there. (I left it in the car) I even dropped a smegging line! Not uber important, but I did it. The cast was all abuzz w/review talk- which I think caused much of my distraction. I did sing "U can go your own waaaay!!" to Jay, who was compared to Mick Fleetwood in one of our reviews. He told me he would've preferred "Tusk". Backstage at the CRPC was frigid, hence the comment "It's a Tit Bit Nipply". Cuttin' holes in my costume. Need some pasties, or something. 2 weekends left, peeps.

Vanity Fair came out w/their annual Star Wars Leibowitz special. Cool cover, Cool pics, but considering how non-plussed I was with the finished product, I'll wait til the movie comes out to get too excited. Oh who am I kidding...I wanna see the big Obi-Wan/Anakin throwdown.

And to tie in with that: Is nothing sacred?http://www.hasbro.com/starwars/pl/page.news/id.1130/dn/default.cfm

It's not who you know...

...it's where you work out. Here's a happy coincidence:

I stopped at the "Y" before the show last week (Killing time before call.) and I had intended on finishing my workout by hitting the heavy bag for a couple of minutes before hitting the showers. And who should I run into on the running track but one of the nice ladies that works at my agency. We start jibber-jabbin' about the holidays, and the new house. Our topic leans towards renovation, home updates etc, and stimulates a fiery dialogue between the two of us about the trials and tribulations we've encountered. I let her get back to her workout, and I headed out to the theatre, commenting to J later that the last time I'd ran into this lady I got a call for an audition. Since I don't get called much, I'll take what I can get.

2 days later, I receive a call to audition for an HGTV show. They want a "host-type" with (get this) knowledge of home repair. Funny. I go, I make 'em laugh, and leave. I didn't get it (*) since I'm not quite the demographic they're looking for. It's just nice to get a call, y'know?

On my way back to work, I get another agent call, for yet another HGTV show. (A host who is knowledgable in the area of home repair.) Cool! I go and read yesterday for this thing (I didn't get it.) but the guy asked if he could keep my number handy because he said I had "good Improv". That really made my day.

All this bitching about the house...who'd of thought these fortuitous circumstances would have occurred? Certainly not me.


(* Why do I know I didn't get it? Weel, if you go out on enough of these calls, you start to get the feel for it. Here is an example from the 1st audition I went to- the dialogue goes like this:

Them: "Hi, you must be Marrrk?"
Me: "Close! It's M---"
Them: "Right, Right. Did you have a chance to look at the script?"
Me: "Yup! Ready to go!"
Them: "Great, let's get you in there"
***I do my thing. They start laughing and say 'Very Good', which means I've pulled something stupid outta my ass which will probably wind up in a commercial/show later.***

Them: "Thanks for coming" (As I leave, enter the next Actor. I've seen the guy before, and there's a pretty good chance you have too, probably on some commercial or rather.)

Them: "HEY ____! We were wondering when you'd get here!" (Producer gives this actor a big ol' hug. Note how they are already on a 1st name basis?) "Now, did you get a chance to see the shoot dates at all?" Blah Blah Blah. You see? This is the way it is. If they like you, you get asked a bunch of questions regarding availability: Can you make a callback? Can you read with the other host? Will you cut your hair? Do you own your own suit? etc...

Contrary to what you may think, I'm not being self-deprecating. You have to think practically, and really you should do this at any audition you attend. Don't set yourself up for disappointment by assuming you are a shoe in, unless they tell you you are in. In fact...don't ever assume. And don't pass up an audition. Ever.

My opinion is that it's a waste of energy to be mad at the companies who hold these auditions if they don't pick you. Better to take away what you can, and try to leave an impression.


The thing I can't help is that I have a small head, which probably acts as a deterrment when they see me. "Uhhhh, here comes peanut head!!!"

Too Much Dressing.

I love this town. The CeeP's review came out today, and it straddled the fence. When I noticed that it practically named half the cast, It actually made me laugh out loud. They're too sweet, and I expect the call from mom will come later today.

For your playsure:
http://citypages.com/databank/26/1258/article12846.asp

I made din-din for me and the schmoop last night. Pasta. Of Course. Crafty bastards, those Italians, to have invented that carbolicious shit.
And yes, Geef... I've fucking burned water on the stove. Turned it on, went to check email, got distracted by pornimeanlongemail. Smelled smoke. Water Stink. Pot Charred. Fire bad.

Easiest dieting tip in the world was to make a mess o' pasta early in the week and have it for "easy lunches" later. I'll have a couple of big ziplocs filled w/pasta and olive oil. (Keeps it from sticking.) Our two main dishes, which we tend to work in rotation, are chicken pesto pasta, (Penne, Grilled Chicky, Tomatoes, and a jar of pesto. Why go to Noodles and co?)
Or pasta, chicky, tomatoes, and fat free Italian dressing. Easy Peasy Italianeasy...and stuff.

Well, per normal I go off and frick the whole mess up. 1st, by squeezing the bottle so hard that half of it's contents poured onto the 'sta. (Oooooooo my arms...their just so beeeg Ooooooo. Whatever. I'm slow upstairs.) THEN, (I try to) cautiously pour the superflous dressing into the sink, succeeding only in dumping THE ENTIRE bowl of pasta over the plate I was using to slow the flow...right into the sink. I cursedloudly, then had 2 glasses of chardonnay (The brand was "Lucky Frog". Don't imbibe. Yucky.) and went to bed.

One last funny work story. A trickle of beauticians came into the store last night. Apparently they needed stage make-up for a class project. You'd think "Wow, P..Beauticians!" and come up with funny lines from "Real Genius". No such luck. They were nice and all, but they ended up treating me like a Barbie "Make-Me-Pretty"...After they were all gone, my hands and arms were covered in make-up and sparkles. I AM NOT A PALATTE!!!

That and I had gas. Hard to feel sophisticated and sexy when you ate veggie chili w/extra lentils for lunch. Bah-booom!!!! Why J wants me, I'll never know. I pay her...that's why. : )

It's the Funk that ties...

Well, to give more creedence to the bi-polar state of TC critics, I'll let you whet your appetite on:

http://www.startribune.com/stories/1555/5179500.html

or how 'bout 'zis?

http://www.twincities.com/mld/twincities/entertainment/performing_arts/10612589.htm?1c


Hmmm...one liked it, and didn't like the fights. The other didn't like it, but liked the fights. And the Funk was the only thing they both could agree on. Funny.

Different strokes and all. I really have no opinion of reviews. And reviewers tend to be a bunch of self-absorbed, overly empowered, sawed-off, poncey-noncey wankers who have a penchant for masturbating adjectives to the point of full extent- with little or no relief. To their credit, they are the most die-hard theatre patrons, and often time our staunchest supporters, which says...something . I've also just described some actors.

And the mirror, P, is THATAWAY!!!

Mostly, I'm not too fond of how some castmates act when the topic of reviews/reviewers is addressed. "Who's here", "which paper?" It just smacks of distraction, of which I already possess plenty. (And I don't like the idea of people having that kind of power. Which is why I dislike the idea of idolizing sports and entertainment figures.) Your energy should be focused on what's onstage, not who is in the frickin' house. Let the director/prodoucher worry about that. There you have it. 2 reviews. Opposites. I think I've seen that in 5 outta the last 6 shows I've been in . Citypages will come out tomorrow or (par for the course)the Wednesday before our closing weekend.

Funk said it best last night...I'm really curious about this one. And here they are. Curious, Curious...just like Harry Potters wand.

Sorry about earlier drafts btw. I ended up working on the house solo on Sunday and was feeling a little daunted. Oh well. At least we got the drywall in. And at the very leaset, the "J" is feeling better, meaning she didn't cry at all from the pain last night. She just complained that I smelled like garlic.

btw: Luce' Vegan Brushcetta- Not too bad. Just don't expect too much sweet-lovin. If you're me that is.

btw/btw: Why is Christoper McKnight, aka "Peter Brady" built like a bodybuilder now? And a super nice guy to boot? Talk about making me feel self conscious. Note to self, don't watch the Surreal Life 4 anymore.

Henry V

I should probably disclaimer that those "moments" described in the last blog, are when I feel really connected to what I'm doing on stage. And while ultimately I feel consideration for the audience is very important, there is something extremely satisfying about those moments. While this show is the best work I can (A far cry from my "best performance" which was my 1st grade production where I played the "noble garbageman" in "Let's Build a Town.) but many of us play our parts well. Thanks for the honest feedback, Don.

That's right. I like getting feedback. Crave it actually. And not just director notes, I'm talking positive (or if the role calls for it, negative) reactions. The GeeF did that for me once when he mentioned that (in a kinda lukewarm production I did last year) this door "take" I did was pretty gosh darn funny. I didn't know much about that (Although I warmly welcomed the compliment) I did know that it hurt, and so it HAD to have been funny.


And then I've received feedback, honest feedback, after shows that could have prrrobably waited until after we had left the theatre. (Example--- Me: "what did you think?" Them:" Ehhhhh, I didn't like it all that much". Hello? We're at the CRPC. Other actors w/in earshot that can and DID hear you. This wasn't a friend o' mind, btw.)

I've been told there was a lot of "me" in roles I've played. So it's nice, really nice when you can hear someone say they liked something specific that you did. No matter how dumb. It's sometimes enough to validate a show for me. I hope you all like it. At least a little.



From "The Skyway News" 1st week of August, 1999. A review of "Swing Time Radio" at the Fringe Festival. Paraphrased for your enjoyment:

"Some show are a hit, some shows are a miss, and some shows fail to hit the target completely. (Body deleted due to content) Sweet singing, and Non-Hammy performances from P-----, Amy L, and Shelly D, fail to elevate this performance from the depths in which it wallows. This show hurts to watch"

ps: Spine and Nerve damage can and do cause illness, Portland. You're absolutely correct.

Feeling a little 'whelmed.

I just gotta get this out. I'm a little frustrated again. Is it a full moon perhaps? No? Let me 'splain...no there is too much, let me sum up.

Opening went well. I'm happy with the production, the cast, and w/o sounding too terribly self-involved I'm really happy w/the stuff I'm doing. A rarity for me, but it is making the production that much more enjoyable. More specifically, I think there are some good "moments". I lied. I guess I don't suck. Which will do as well. Go see it. Some good peeps in it.

I took Friday off to do some drywallin' and sandin' at the new digs. J was 'sleep when I left, and 'sleep when I got home. 7 hours later. Apparently the flu. She calls in sick to work. Folks, she's worked professionally (read: Her bread and butter) for over 12 years now and has never called in sick/injured/or in a bad mood. Look up "trouper" in the dict. and you'll see a pic of my baby. I get home from the post-show reception (I'll delve into that later today methinks.) and she's crying from the pain. She just took meds, pulled up the sheets, popped in Will Ferrel "best of", and hit the hay. I was relegated to the couch for safety's sake, but moved in later on.

Sats was going to be karate/work/then show for me. J is still in mega-pain. Panicky Paranoic that I am (Read previous post on eating lonely fat-kids) I ask her 7 or 8 times if it is hospital serious. She declines. I skip kung fu and keep an eye on her. She goes back to sleep. I go for a run. I come home and see that she's STILL asleep and by the time I'm out of the shower she's doubled over. I tell her that I'm fairly certain it's not the flu, and I'm haulin' her ass to the ER. She doesn't say no. (Mind you, I get a little pissy that she wait's until right before I need to go to work to say "Let's go". I should have taken her in the frickin' night before. Hindsight)

We check into urgent care, and wait. Hour passes, and they call her name. 10 mins later she's in a wheelchair and they ask me (ME) to push her to the ER. I ask for scrubs. They say no.

If you've ever waited in an ER waiting room, or heard stories...they are all true. I knew this going in, so I packed a book (The Watchmen, thank you.) and placed us in front of the TV (Raging Bull. All edited and stuff) while she moaned and cried on the couch. As this went on, I felt myself get more and more angry. If it's tummy trouble (Which she's had repeat bouts of) she could have and should have seen a frickin' dr. YEARS ago. Instead, we sit for 2.5 hours. Waiting. I nearly finish my book.

They call her in. I follow, they say "SIT". I stew some more. They finally come get me. Watchmen is almost done. And I have to pee from all the soda I've imbibed.


She's hooked up. All over. Tubes Tubes Tubes. Any and all feelings of malice, selfishness, and malcontent fade to oblivion. We do the CT scan, head back to the room and I sit and hold her hand. Making half assed jokes as we go along. We wait some more for the results. I'm left feeling the kind of impotence that really should be relegated to people in more dire situations. It's just the "not knowing" is making me antsy.

I'm forced to vacate the hospital as 6:00pm rolls around to get home and get to the theatre by house opening. (I've already chalked up that I'm gonna be late. I don't want to leave her. It's killing me to go but she says "go". So I do) I make it to the show remarkably on time. I make a conscious effort not to blab my personal sitch to everyone beforehand, so they don't get all weird. I must have checked my cell phone 8 or 9 times. Show ends, someone asks how J's flu is going, I let a little slip about her sitch, and bolt out like a bat outta hell.

Thankfully, she's home by that time, having scored a ride from mom and dad. She has a severely pinched nerve and possibly a slipped disc. With no explanation for her nausea/tummy aches (Don't worry, she's not P.G. folks. Trust moi.) they referred her to a GI Specialist. She's seeing the 'practor today and specialist later this week. I'm tired folks. Really really tired. Sunday was a whole new bag of tricks. I'll tell you that later.

ps: CT Nurses don't like this joke- Nurse: "We're gonna take her in for a quick CAT Scan"...Me: "Really? Did you know my fiancee' was IN 'Cats', in case you find anything. You know, like a tail?"

Didn't like that one at all. I was nervous.

Top M.A.'s

1st off: Random rant from 2 days ago is dead and buried, and the Show situation is back to normal. The Powers that be took care of it. That being said, I am back to full-time happy. Go see Henry V. It's a-gonna be-a good. Really-Really. Swords N' Stuff. (Not like those crappy chili-stuffed hot dogs called "Frank 'N Stuffs" Barf-O-Rama)

I like wearing long-underwear. It makes me feel like I'm wearing a superhero costume underneath my duds. Y'know? Sneak into the broom closet to change and then save the world? Who am I kidding. I'd probably just go into the broom closet to masterb...I mean steal cleaning supplies. And I don't care for the bitter cold.

I was watching the fight scenes from the movie "Best of the Best" last night before dozing...and It got me thinking of the "best" M.A. movies in my estimation. I figured as a martial arteest, I have a different take on what I consider gut vs. bet. So, before I begin let me fart by staying...start by saying that I'm gearing this towards what I see as some of the most creative 'ography. Or the stuff that just fucking looks cool. The movies may suck, but damn...they can KEEE-Ick!!!! I'm 50!!!! In no partic order-

Best of the Best 1 and 2. (1989 and 1993) thought of as crapfests. #1 gives you James Earl Jones at his hammiest as an Italian...yes Italian coach. And Sally Kirland..wtf? Perrenial Douchebag, and mullet wearer Eric Roberts is at his teary eyed best. And Chris "Why can't I have a Mystic River" Penn does his thing. (Part 2 was no better, with Wayne Newton and A.Schwarzey's training buddy- 6'6" Rolf Moeller as the pre-requisite baddies.) Why watch these?
Phillip and Simon Rhee. The tourney fight at the end of part one will make you think that you are getting hit. No speed ups, no wires...just some bad-ass fighting. And some really crappy "Come-From-Behind" 80's music.

The Matrix (1999) Fuck the sequels and their stupid asses. Why did this movie work? Show of hands? The dojo training program and subsequent fight between Cowboy Curtis and Ted. Up until then, you had Van Damme and Seagal in their genre' flicks. This one had two mainstream film stars whooping it up. Seriously, they had, 7 different styles of M.A. wove together. Nothing specifically kung-fooey, they had Capoeria, Boxing, Shotokan...Uff Da. The next two films bored me. This got me right where I needed it. And did I mention Miss Moss? Oy. Points are going to be deducted because this caused every superhero movie in it's wake to use black leather as the costume du jour. And for Bullet time. Oooooooooo.

The Transporter. (2002) I know people that hate hate hate this movie. I thought it was frickin' cool. Just, cool. The first fight after Handsome Rob gets his car blown up is pretty bad-ass. Yep. I hit my buddy in his gonads by accident after a scene in this film.

The Legend of Drunken Master (aka Drunken Master 2- 1994) Um, if you haven't seen this yet. See it. I'm loathe to put a Jackie Chan film here, since they all sort of run together in my mind. Oh look, there's the money stunt. Oh Look, he's climbing the wall again. This movie kicks all sorts of ass. From the first fracas under the train. (Wow) to the big brawl (100 odd guys with HATCHETS! Props to the dude who falls over the railing has an onscreen super-bad biff. He must've drew the short straw) And the best "Super Baddie" at the end. It'll hurt to watch.

Ong Bak (2003) This will just be finding it's release in America w/ a different cut. Yeah, I haven't seen it and I'm not a huge fan of Muay Thai...but after the watching the super fricking cool trailer, but I highly suggest you check this dude out. The dude jumps over a car. A car. I hear tell they're doing a drunken master sequel with this dude and J.Chan. Yeeeeeeah Booyyyy!!!!

Iron Monkey (1993) Arguably the worst title here. The fighting is top-notch. JM even stayed awake for this one. Donnie Yen is the shit, and on the heels of this review check him out in "Hero". (Which I liked, until it got waaaaayyyy too commercial) and "House of Flying Daggers" (Hero 2: Electric Boogaloo) You'll flip for the Shadow Kick and "Buddha's Palm".

lastly
Rapid Fire (1993) and (Kinda) Showdown In Little Tokyo (1992).
I'm biased. I thought Brandon Lee was a kick ass Martial Artist and his loss was actually a pretty big deal to my brother and I in terms of celebrity deets. While Rapid Fire is his "star vehicle" he and Dolph have some brilliant shit they do in "Showdown"
(Namely the Bar Brawl. Lee does a backflip off a table.) It turns into a "shoot 'em up" but it has great fights. Rapid Fire I will find on DVD sometime. I've wore out my VHS copy. Why? The apartment fight (Ladies: all Lee with no shirt, whoopin' all kinds of ass on "bad" FBI agents.) and his fight with "the disposable bad guy" (Al Leong. You've seen him everywhere. Now see him Fight!) That Laundromat fight makes me want to be a better Martial Artist. Choreographer Jeff Imada is the shit (He turned the fights in "Daredevil" into the only redeeming quality of that reeeeediculous shit box of a movie) And apparently he lifted ideas from Chan, and Bruce Lee when creating the improvised fight stuff. Just, uhhhh cool shit. All Around.

Why didn't I mention the Kill Bill's? (Great fights. Really) CTHD? (Another great film. I love Michelle Yeoh.) Les Pact du Loups? (Mark Dascascos is the shit. A bad-ass-martial artist. In his movies he does the M.A equivalent of a hip-hop dancer learning ballet, or Meryl Streep learning whatever fucking language she's decided to learn this week) Ehh. They knew what they wanted to be when they were made. Kill Bill 2 gets an honorable mention, if anything for the "Cruel Master" training scene. Michael Jai White not making the cut sucks though.

I avoided specific genre' movies (Seagal's "Above the Law", DammeT's "Bloodsport", Speakman's "The Perfect Weapon". ) Great Martial Arts action and all, but they are there just to showoff the artist. Not make a movie. However, if you ever want to learn about Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, or Kenpo respectively...those are the flicks to watch. And why no Chuck? Cause Chuck's movies suck. Except "A force of One"...with Bill "Superfoot" Wallace.


Am I obsessed? A little, but see what happens to YOU when you are raised on a diet of Shaw Films and Sho Kosugi Ninja Action.

Sanjuro: You're all tough, then?
Gambler: What? Kill me if you can!
Sanjuro: It'll hurt.

Magic Time

Okay. So yesterday's rant was pretty pissy. I have my reasons for being pissy about the last point, but guess what? I'll live, and I'll STFU about it.

It got me thinking about some past Classic's I've been involved in, and while I've enjoyed some of them, there were still some wonky-tonk parts of others. They're pretty funny, for their own reasons. And it won't stop me from pimping Hank the Fifth to my loyal readers. Go see it. If you're in town anyway... Without further ado:

Ass You Lick It: (At the "G") Louie, a U of MN MFA intern, had this "hate-on" for my 19 year old self. For no reason he made clear. Made it miserable for me pretty much daily. ("Hey shithead. What are you lookin' at?") A real putz, one day he actually got in my face. So I knocked him on his ass. He bounced up, got in my face again & sez (In his Philly accent) "See something that scares you?".
I say: "Dude, I've seen scarier zits on my ass." We turned into buds after that. Weird.

"Tempest" (@ the "U") I had to wear a unitard, covered in feathers. It was January. And Frickin' cold.

"Merry Wives" (TRP) I had fun. Got to make out w/Meredith M night after night. Music drove me nuts.

"MacBeth" (CSTC, performed at the Paramount). Where to start. Our first snowy winter in years, and the 50 minute St.Cloud commute was murder. The SM and ASM were pulled from a high school and a beauty school respectively. (They were reading "How to SM" books while we were in rehearsals. Did I mention I didn't get paid and they did?) SM got power trippy and kept yelling at people pre-show during our Fight Call. He screamed at me when I asked for 2 more minutes to finish. I asked him to step outside if he wanted to "talk". He sulks and avoids me the rest of the run. Cast is happy. (Props to the good people at CSTC for having the heat off in the Paramount theatre IN JANUARY, forcing us to rehearse several times in our hats, parkas, and gloves. Also for scheduling a matinee' on Superbowl Sunday. They had a rule that the cast helps out with strike. I told them to fuck themselves, grabbed my girlfriends, and ran away.)

Midsummer Nights Polo Shirt: 'nuff said. Meeting peeps like Kaiser, CLG, ZH, and LP always can enrich your life. 'Specially since I still see them. I was Demetrius, and costumed in a peach polo shirt, khaki's, and a paisley vest. Did I forget to mention the sash? Our set was like a big white wedding cake. With white background. Our staging was often times "back to the audience". In a proscenium. I got to listen to my "at the time" geef complain nightly (Re: the cast, the commute, the fact that I had a bigger part, which thereby allowedg me to hang out with the cast more than her, the fact that she thought my acting was "gay"...that was funny, considering what I was costumed in.) I had a great audition though. I'll take that away with me.

Lysistrata Lesson. Man. One of the 10 worst shows of 2002. (per the City Pages) And they were proud of that. I learned my "Lesson". Yuck. Just...yuck. I really wished that I had been in better shape if I was going to be parading around in my drawers. I did get to meet G-lover, JTA (Who is now MIA), and others. More friends to enrich.

Much Ado About Abercrombie and Fitch. Yeah. Went in as a fave, last minute. They set the show in a H.S. (fine). They cut nothing, which meant a 3:45 opus, with only some of the people really knowing how to read the language. Half were unprofessional. Our "Watch" decided that Michael Keaton had the be all, end all of Watches, and patterned his character exACTLY after that. The 1st show that my love see's me in. A little embarrassed at that. She tells me after that "Well, I understood you and TJ. And you were funny.") I'll buy that. No friends were born of that show, save TJ. Except he's MIA too. I'll give it this- that was the last show I did b4 I started working w/the good people at Pigs Eye and Fitty Foot Pengy.

Venom (Am I overreacting?)

Helsing will have to wait. As will Finding Nemo. I had a terrifically bad end to my night and I haven't shook it yet. For those readers who find this blog tends to lean a little "Safe" or "Vanilla" please understand that I have no real love of politics, and being of an easygoing nature I don't get riled up. That's done for today.

1) George Bush is an ass and an idiot. I don't tend to lean towards either direction, but what a complete fuck up.
"I pledge 35 mill for Tsunami relief. Whoops, did I just offer what I spend in one
day for MRE's in Iraq? I meant $350 mill. My bad. Carry on." Dumb. Fuck.
People are dying you prick, and you embarrass yourself to your party, and your even your DAD dumb-butt! Your DAD even wrote a personal check. Floors me. Politics invariably turns into a popularity contest (This is why, being a non-conformist, I dislike the process.) And I know a thing or two about PR. Nice going. Dillweed. Them Dems better start grooming someone better, quicker.

2) I hate everyone on the elevator. 4, 5,6, 7,8...and I work on 9. The smokers come in from break, cold and smokey. The older emplys talk waaayy above the normal "inside voice". I hold the door for all, and have it slammed on me just as I walk up to it. I am not phobic of the space. Just the douchebags who fraterinize on the elevator. If I didn't work so damnably high up, I'd take the mother loving stairs.

3) Twice I was nearly ran off the road. 3 occurences also happened where a turning driver signalled his intent 3 blocks early. Once I was cut off on the road, by someone who proceeded to slow waaaaay the frick down. I was foul by the time I parked the car, next to the Impala who thought themselves important enough to take up TWO spaces.

4) This dude has been calling my fiancee' non-stop about the "B and B" audition. Then he starting calling every-other-DAY about callbacks, and finally who was cast. He didn't call the theatre mind you, he called her. She's a performer folks. That's where she's listed in the program. And besides the general gossip she hears, she don't know nuthin'. I ran into this dude at the gym. He even asked me and I said I didn't know. Well, he heard something, 'cause sure enough he left a message about how he heard it was cast, and was (I)lying to him about it? Me. Calling me a liar in a back handed way. I was about to find out where he was staying and lay into him. He's nuts and I think he needs help. J talked to him and defended my honor, the lamb. But what a fucking douchebag.

5)My Commute to Woodbury for work. From Plymouth to Woodbury, because apparently I am the ONLY person who is comfortable freestyling in front of a group.

6) And this is the last. (EDITED FOR CONTENT)Bad sound cues can make a potentially good show...bad. I wrote a shitload here since this was the straw that broke my back, but I got rid of it. If you want to hear my grievance, ask me "offline" as they say at the office.

3rd already?

Well, besides grossing you all out with my New Years Grooming, I should probably have focused on the actual night itself. For example: How J looked (Gorgeous. I mean, just...yum.), How I looked (Like a besuited nerd-opolis.), How late I stayed up (4:30am), or how drunk I was. (Fairly. see the list below for all the nastiness I imbibed)

Midnight snuck up rather quickly (I had just overheard someone say "3 minutes!" almost immediately before the bandleader starts up with the whole countdown.."10, 9, 8, 7..." synchronize your swatches, dorko's!) Many kisses were shared, and we hosted a small after party gathering in our suite. (By 1:45am, we began to dispair that no one would show. By 3:30am we began to despair that no one would leave! And that we wouldn't be able to commence in any of our own New Years debauchery.) All told, the night was casual, and fun. And can I just add that being a new homeowner gives you an almost endless topic of conversation to fall back on? I had (What only seemed like) delightful conversations with folks about our houses. Very good times.

Here are the total's of what I ingested: 1 subway sub, 6-7 glasses of Pinot Grigio (One glass was dropped and broke) 2.5 glasses of champagne (Finishing J's so that she could go grab another "collectors" glass. Great. Now we won't be able to have Champagne in THOSE glasses until we celebrate New Years 2005 again!) 2 glasses of Chard (Blech, after the pinot) 3 diet cokes, 2 pineapple juices, assorted chips/nuts/M & M's, Shrimp Thingytail, and a choco-cheesecake truffle. Those last few things were all drunk food. And that crap fueled me for the whole day of manual labor that followed.

Current House assessment: Still freaking. Front and back rooms have been painted. Kitchen is re-wired now (ready for the updates) Stairs have been sanded and ready for staining. (Ahhh, more chemicals to inhale) We begin purchasing the shit-rock next weekend. God help us for those projects.

Was it just me, or did the snow that fell on the first have the same consistentcy as table salt and boxed mashed potatoes? It was just...weird.

Tomorrow, I regale you with my "Van Helsing" review (Not bad..not great, just not bad) and why I hate everybody who shares the elevator with me. Wankers.

It's just not the same.

Happy New Year everyone! My first post of the year, and it is my goal to help those who haven't figured it out yet, that I am a complete re-ray.

J and I headed out to Chan a little early (After having spent the day re-wiring and painting.)to relax and hot tub a little, pre-party. Now I don't know about y'all, but yours truly is all about hotels. I love 'em. After growing up a fairly low-maintenence child (No "Hollywood showers" at the P home. 5 mins in and out buddy, let's NOT waste the hot water.) into a fairly low-maintenence adult- I love taking 2 hour showers when I'm at a hotel. I jump on the bed, I look for porn under the mattress, and I take my time in the shower. Get me? My normal "man-prep" routine at home includes shaving in the shower. (I have one of those nifty fogless mirrors.) but sans mirror, I do the old fashioned "over the sink" method. For New Years, I gotta be smooth for all that smooching. I took my time in the hot tub (Figuring on taking a shower-rinse after my pores have all been opened up) got out, unpacked my razor annnnnd:

Imagine my chagrin when I can't seem to find my shave gel. My travel sized can didn't get packed apparently, and at 10pm I'm already running a little behind. I spy J's Leg Shave Gel on the side of the tub, and take it upon myself to pull a MacGuyver-ish Improvised Experiment.

1) Goes into the hand a little thinner than my stuff. After applying, I notice the lather isn't
quite as pronounced. Still, it lathers.
2) So far so good. I'm taking my time here. No rush jobs.
3) 1st traces of the infamous "red dots" start making their appearances. Go figure it'd be
around my neck.
4) The sink is starting to look like Quint rinsed out the chum-bucket. Dear God, I don't own
a stiptic pen.
5) Done. After drying off and doing my best to blanche the wounds, I apply liberal doses of
After shave gel. Go fig. No cream. Just the "after shave"
6) Decide to take quick shower now. No time for full shower opus. Just enough to shave the
the rest of the gear and get smelling pretty. I open the shower doors to discover!!!

I had unpacked my shaving cream and set it in the shower next to my shampoo and bodywarsh.
Yup.

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.