The past few weeks I have been taking baby steps towards becoming a Broadway Producer. I know what your thinking, “WTF??” Well with the help on my dear friend Jacob Toth, he and I are spearheading a Broadway Dance Project (title still in the works) that is about to get off the ground. Mr. Bway, as I have nicknamed him, seems to have full faith in us and so needless to say I feel nauseous and completely overwhelmed. But hey doesn’t every creative person who is trying to put their dream up on a stage just want to die inside. Ok, maybe not die, but it is a little stressful considering I am walking and talking like a grown up with clout and buckets of knowledge about theatre, dance and female theories regarding their notion of what is “erotic”. Did I mention I’m nauseous?
I am trying to remember my halcyon days at The Really Useful Company, before Lord Andrew Lloyd Webbers fall from sweeping epic Broadway producer to reality show host monkey. That first day when I walked into the offices at Rockefeller Center surrounded by Hirschfield’s in the lobby I thought that everyone who rushed past was where I wanted to be. Taking calls from the Shubert’s and yelling at some vendor who hadn’t delivered the new wigs to the Majestic Theatre. I was in heaven, trying to absorb every little thing as if it were going to help me somehow in my “staring” role in showbiz. It seemed simple. I had gotten to that point within a year out of school. Then after three years of being at the “top” suddenly the reality wasn’t the dream anymore. Nothing new was being considered. Nothing bold, no risk, nothing that didn’t have ALW finger prints all over it came across productions desk. I mean how many times can you do Joseph on Broadway? So I left.
I thought I would make money at a survival job that would let me be funny and that would get me were I wanted to be. It’s been great and continues to be so, but now through the magic of a playbill.com job listing here I am back in the game. Only this time I am trying to create something outta nothing. Trying to find that next great choreographer whose vision will take us somewhere we might never have thought about. Plus, it has to be all female. No boys allowed. Could you just die? A project for female choreographers with Broadway possibilities and I’m in charge, sort of.
Yup, I feel nauseous.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Mad Men Season 2
Well it’s finally here, my boys and girls of summer are back and swinging it ‘60s style. So in a celebratory romp my Mad Men partner in crime Madeleine Maby joined me at the magic tree house for the last four episodes of Season One and the premiere of Season Two. I made themed hor’dourves saltine crackers with sharp cheddar with a pan fried pepperoni on top. Then for dinner we had steak (bloody of course), twice baked potatoes and sautéed mushrooms washing it all down with Mr. Jack Daniels. When we do it old school we do it right folks.
I love watching TV with someone who, like myself talks back to it in response to what might be happening. Ms. Maby and I need our own MST3K show it would be a smash as long as the 3 of us (Madeleine, Jack & I) were in attendance. Plus with the invention of DVR we could pause and have discussions (aka shots) or rewind to review if from our yammering we missed some tid bit. Trust me tids and bits were missed….
Also, I would like to take this moment to profess my undying love and unrequited yearning for one Miss Joan Holloway. Oh Joanie, if you weren’t so busy screwing the boss, who after two heart attacks left you worried and broken only to returned to work to tell you that, “you’re the best piece of ass I’ve ever had” if that boorish brute didn’t make you want to jump the straight train nothing will. So I must love you from afar, far, far, afar. (She’s the majestic red head in the middle, le sigh)
In true ‘60s fashion Ms. Maby and I about killed the Jack, which resulted in a mild, “gee I don’t wanna go to work today,” thought when my cruel alarm went off. Overcoming I pushed on and now am bright eyed and bushy tailed (a shout out to Beatrix Potter – Happy 142 Bday) as I sit in my cube. This season will surely delve deeper into the mysteries of what’s wrong with our parents and how they got that way. It’s like a time capsule of dysfunction and “oh my god he didn’t just say that!” If you aren’t watching start, the first season is On Demand so get in there and catch up it’s so worth it and you’ll save tons on therapy. Mad Men will do nicely until my Dexter comes back to me….pssst Dex get a move on, I miss you & your bloody fun!
I love watching TV with someone who, like myself talks back to it in response to what might be happening. Ms. Maby and I need our own MST3K show it would be a smash as long as the 3 of us (Madeleine, Jack & I) were in attendance. Plus with the invention of DVR we could pause and have discussions (aka shots) or rewind to review if from our yammering we missed some tid bit. Trust me tids and bits were missed….
Also, I would like to take this moment to profess my undying love and unrequited yearning for one Miss Joan Holloway. Oh Joanie, if you weren’t so busy screwing the boss, who after two heart attacks left you worried and broken only to returned to work to tell you that, “you’re the best piece of ass I’ve ever had” if that boorish brute didn’t make you want to jump the straight train nothing will. So I must love you from afar, far, far, afar. (She’s the majestic red head in the middle, le sigh)
In true ‘60s fashion Ms. Maby and I about killed the Jack, which resulted in a mild, “gee I don’t wanna go to work today,” thought when my cruel alarm went off. Overcoming I pushed on and now am bright eyed and bushy tailed (a shout out to Beatrix Potter – Happy 142 Bday) as I sit in my cube. This season will surely delve deeper into the mysteries of what’s wrong with our parents and how they got that way. It’s like a time capsule of dysfunction and “oh my god he didn’t just say that!” If you aren’t watching start, the first season is On Demand so get in there and catch up it’s so worth it and you’ll save tons on therapy. Mad Men will do nicely until my Dexter comes back to me….pssst Dex get a move on, I miss you & your bloody fun!
Friday, July 25, 2008
Friday's Picture of the Week!!
My picture of the week is of my boo, Kayla. For those of you that don’t know her, Kayla is my best girl. My sister got her at a flea market in Santa Barbara, CA. and I was lucky enough to get her after my sister realized that Foxy her best girl was NOT having Kayla, at all. She makes everyday just a little brighter, she loves me no matter what….even if I get drunk on a Friday night and can’t walk her till 4pm Saturday afternoon she still loves me….So this Friday is for you Miss Kayla!! Momma will be home soon!! MWAH!
Jury Duty
If you stay in one place too long they find you. Big brother (i.e. the Government) tracks you down, especially if you vote, and summons you to Jury Duty. Since turning 18 I have managed to be nomadic enough to evade such a summons. Pulling a quick step from Williamsburg to Manhattan bought me 6 years of hiding, then I settled into my magic tree house, and it was only a matter of time before said summons would be lurking in my mailbox. It didn’t help much that I also finally got my NY State Drivers License. So much for that 3 month grace period…what? My Fla. one didn’t expire till 2008 and I saw no need to waste a perfectly horrible picture of myself just to exchange it for another.
However, I was excited about going to Jury Duty, at least excited about getting out of work for at least a day (which turned into 2) thank you county municipal civil court. I had never been to the court house, and when I walked through the door I thought for sure I would heard, “BONG-BONG” and Sam Waterston would greet me with a hand shake and an ice coffee. Needless to say that doesn’t happen but you do get to watch a lame ass video hosted by the late Ed Bradley and Diana Sawyer (which I already knew from seeing the SATC episode when Carrie had jury duty). See art does imitate life or at least cable TV.
The building smelled of hospital and red tape. Getting through security was pleasant enough and finding the “Jury Holding Room” was a breeze but the waiting is the killer. You sit there with strangers looking around at all the plastic plants and praying that no one will actually have the balls to sit right next to you. The rooms are connected by a staircase that vivisects the building. In my mind making the rooms seem like the male scrotum. (sitting alone for hours without someone to talk to isn’t the best for my imagination) We sat their like sperm just waiting to get our shot at being on a selection panel. Suddenly, I feel like there should be a Family Guy cut away to my descriptive scenario, but this is a blog and Seth MacFarlane has yet to return my calls, so let’s get on with it.
I didn’t get picked to do anything the first day. No panel, no nothing it kind of felt like the Justice System didn’t think I was good at kick ball or maybe was just saving me to go in late in the game to score the winning touch down. I prefer the latter. I hate being late, and I hate being in trouble so needless to say I was up the past two days at the crack of ass because if I was late and in trouble with the government I would just die. Late comers obviously pissed me and my neurosis off to no end. Especially the last guy who showed at 10:30 (call time 8:45am) he would so be fired from my movie, “Brandy’s Adventures at 60 Centre Street,” what an asshat, god I wanted to make a citizens arrest.
Yet the second day I just knew I would be called and sure enough the monotone clerk whose soul has long been dead called, “Mariea Rowell,” to my surprise he said it correctly!! I was intent on some variation of my name but god love him he said it perfectly as if he had known me all his life. I gathered my things and went to Jury Selection Room C.
We sat there waiting for the attorneys who would then ask us questions about if we felt we could be fair in this particular case, etc… etc…they repeated the same thing over and over as they approached each of us. Of course by the time they got to me I was ready. The fat, balding, jolly attorney got to me and as he had with every other prospective jury he asked me, “how are you this morning,” that is when I channeled my best Paul Lynde and said, “FAN-TAST-IC, how are you big boy?” the room lost it’s collective mind laughing and probably startled most of them out of their government induced coma. The lawyers laughed and as he looked back down at my questionnaire he saw, “STAND-UP COMIC,” nudging his adversary they nodding together and he moved to the next Juror.
Obviously I was NOT selected to sit on the jury. For whatever reason I got out of it, thanks to my bold and ridiculous personality, I thank you mother & father for making me the smartass I am today, I couldn’t have done it with out you!!
See you in six years!!!
BONG-BONG
However, I was excited about going to Jury Duty, at least excited about getting out of work for at least a day (which turned into 2) thank you county municipal civil court. I had never been to the court house, and when I walked through the door I thought for sure I would heard, “BONG-BONG” and Sam Waterston would greet me with a hand shake and an ice coffee. Needless to say that doesn’t happen but you do get to watch a lame ass video hosted by the late Ed Bradley and Diana Sawyer (which I already knew from seeing the SATC episode when Carrie had jury duty). See art does imitate life or at least cable TV.
The building smelled of hospital and red tape. Getting through security was pleasant enough and finding the “Jury Holding Room” was a breeze but the waiting is the killer. You sit there with strangers looking around at all the plastic plants and praying that no one will actually have the balls to sit right next to you. The rooms are connected by a staircase that vivisects the building. In my mind making the rooms seem like the male scrotum. (sitting alone for hours without someone to talk to isn’t the best for my imagination) We sat their like sperm just waiting to get our shot at being on a selection panel. Suddenly, I feel like there should be a Family Guy cut away to my descriptive scenario, but this is a blog and Seth MacFarlane has yet to return my calls, so let’s get on with it.
I didn’t get picked to do anything the first day. No panel, no nothing it kind of felt like the Justice System didn’t think I was good at kick ball or maybe was just saving me to go in late in the game to score the winning touch down. I prefer the latter. I hate being late, and I hate being in trouble so needless to say I was up the past two days at the crack of ass because if I was late and in trouble with the government I would just die. Late comers obviously pissed me and my neurosis off to no end. Especially the last guy who showed at 10:30 (call time 8:45am) he would so be fired from my movie, “Brandy’s Adventures at 60 Centre Street,” what an asshat, god I wanted to make a citizens arrest.
Yet the second day I just knew I would be called and sure enough the monotone clerk whose soul has long been dead called, “Mariea Rowell,” to my surprise he said it correctly!! I was intent on some variation of my name but god love him he said it perfectly as if he had known me all his life. I gathered my things and went to Jury Selection Room C.
We sat there waiting for the attorneys who would then ask us questions about if we felt we could be fair in this particular case, etc… etc…they repeated the same thing over and over as they approached each of us. Of course by the time they got to me I was ready. The fat, balding, jolly attorney got to me and as he had with every other prospective jury he asked me, “how are you this morning,” that is when I channeled my best Paul Lynde and said, “FAN-TAST-IC, how are you big boy?” the room lost it’s collective mind laughing and probably startled most of them out of their government induced coma. The lawyers laughed and as he looked back down at my questionnaire he saw, “STAND-UP COMIC,” nudging his adversary they nodding together and he moved to the next Juror.
Obviously I was NOT selected to sit on the jury. For whatever reason I got out of it, thanks to my bold and ridiculous personality, I thank you mother & father for making me the smartass I am today, I couldn’t have done it with out you!!
See you in six years!!!
BONG-BONG
Friday, July 18, 2008
Jelly Shaken Blues
The past week is a blur of work, sickness, rehearsals, birthday parties, and shows and only now can I see light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. It’s a tiny pin prick of a light but I can see it if I squint. My mantra is, just get to Sunday you can do it, just a few more days, come on just get to Sunday. The lord’s day of rest and mine.
Leaving my bed this morning was the hardest thing I have ever done that didn’t have to do with someone’s death. It was so soft, warm and womberific that any normal person would have called in “sick” especially on a Friday. Now I sit here in my cube clutching at consciousness surrounded by NO one. Everyone took the day off it seems, except the one person who should have, I take comfort in the air conditioning and free coffee. Which is the only thing keeping my heart beating.
In the coming months I plan to focus on nothing but my part time producing gig, stand-up and sleep management. The rockstar needs a siesta, a time out, a thanks but I need to get home and sleep. My vampire days are numbered, I am by nature a night person, which does not work when the “man” needs you in a cube from 9-5, 5 days a week. Kayla is suffering from abandonment issues. I have been buying her love with toys and treats hoping she won’t notice that I am only home long enough to walk her, change and run back out the door. Poor noodle.
On the up side the show last night was AWESOME!! The ladies sang there guts out to a nearly sold out house at the Duplex Upstairs Cabaret!!! I was funny. Hot girls who I didn't know came up to me to tell me so, which in the end makes everything worth it. And I get to do it again tonight hopefully without the few flubs and with a touch more confidence, the micography was throwing me off, not only am I the host I am also the shows lone roadie.
Today is also Friday which means I also have to post a picture so I think this week I will post one that gives me lots and lots of joy.
This pig reminds me that I might be surrounded by shit, but to me it's the happiest place on earth.
Leaving my bed this morning was the hardest thing I have ever done that didn’t have to do with someone’s death. It was so soft, warm and womberific that any normal person would have called in “sick” especially on a Friday. Now I sit here in my cube clutching at consciousness surrounded by NO one. Everyone took the day off it seems, except the one person who should have, I take comfort in the air conditioning and free coffee. Which is the only thing keeping my heart beating.
In the coming months I plan to focus on nothing but my part time producing gig, stand-up and sleep management. The rockstar needs a siesta, a time out, a thanks but I need to get home and sleep. My vampire days are numbered, I am by nature a night person, which does not work when the “man” needs you in a cube from 9-5, 5 days a week. Kayla is suffering from abandonment issues. I have been buying her love with toys and treats hoping she won’t notice that I am only home long enough to walk her, change and run back out the door. Poor noodle.
On the up side the show last night was AWESOME!! The ladies sang there guts out to a nearly sold out house at the Duplex Upstairs Cabaret!!! I was funny. Hot girls who I didn't know came up to me to tell me so, which in the end makes everything worth it. And I get to do it again tonight hopefully without the few flubs and with a touch more confidence, the micography was throwing me off, not only am I the host I am also the shows lone roadie.
Today is also Friday which means I also have to post a picture so I think this week I will post one that gives me lots and lots of joy.
This pig reminds me that I might be surrounded by shit, but to me it's the happiest place on earth.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Photo Friday - (and yes I'm stealing from you Vinnie)
My dear friend Vinnie started posting photos of anything on his blog on Fridays. I'm proudly stealing this idea.....(Click on image to read)
This is from another blog about how you can read the Garfield cartoon sans Garfield. It makes me laugh!!
This I saw in Central Park and hope I never see it again....
Happy Friday Ya'll
This is from another blog about how you can read the Garfield cartoon sans Garfield. It makes me laugh!!
This I saw in Central Park and hope I never see it again....
Happy Friday Ya'll
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Coming around the bend....
During my down blog days, (sounds like a yoga move) I managed to affix my star to a Broadway producer. He hired me on the spot after my interview (which was originally to be a part time clerical for him and his wife) to be his bloodhound in finding new works and to help with his current projects. Apparently my gusto and zeal for all things theatre moved him in such a way that, me wasting time with spread sheets and letterhead would be a disservice of a true talent. I agreed.
Things are moving slowly like all well crafted projects should, a baby step here a baby step there….
What I mean to say though about this experience so far is that I spend 8 hours (sometime 9 if I don’t leave my desk for lunch) a day sitting in a cube processing other people’s work & dreams. It’s rewarding not for profit work for everyone else but me. Truthfully it’s nice to think what I do in some small way makes the earth a better place providing means and resources for those in need. However, what’s in peril and need is my soul.
I know I am on the wrong path, I’ve known it for years, but complacency has made me her bitch. I’ve become what I swore I never would, a settle monkey. I’ve settled for a job that pays my bills but does nothing for my creativity or dreams. I’ve given up on being healthy and fit and used my baby leg as the excuse. My love life is in shambles because of the two previous soul sucking obstacles. The only highs I’ve had at work over the past year have been when I have hosted retirement parties for co-workers. As the mail room told me, “You’re the Richard Pryor of UJA-Federation.” This last show, several people came up to me and asked, “What are you doing here?” “Why aren’t you famous?” Good questions kids….and I tell you why, I’ve felt second best my whole life. I put everyone else around ahead or above me thinking I don’t deserve to be at their level.
Since I started my assistant producer job things have turned. It’s like drinking 15 red bulls in a row and then doing an 8 ball. I get so high and happy from just meeting with him and talking about what we are doing that I go home and bounce off the walls for hours. My baby leg doesn't hurt; I feel strong & smart & fierce, that I can do anything and bend those which oppose me to my will.
If things progress the way I am hoping I might finally be on the right path. Back to the theatre world I should have never left, back to the body which I was sculpting out for myself at last, back to putting myself first and making things count for ME! FOR ME!! Rose move over her comes Brandy!
Things are moving slowly like all well crafted projects should, a baby step here a baby step there….
What I mean to say though about this experience so far is that I spend 8 hours (sometime 9 if I don’t leave my desk for lunch) a day sitting in a cube processing other people’s work & dreams. It’s rewarding not for profit work for everyone else but me. Truthfully it’s nice to think what I do in some small way makes the earth a better place providing means and resources for those in need. However, what’s in peril and need is my soul.
I know I am on the wrong path, I’ve known it for years, but complacency has made me her bitch. I’ve become what I swore I never would, a settle monkey. I’ve settled for a job that pays my bills but does nothing for my creativity or dreams. I’ve given up on being healthy and fit and used my baby leg as the excuse. My love life is in shambles because of the two previous soul sucking obstacles. The only highs I’ve had at work over the past year have been when I have hosted retirement parties for co-workers. As the mail room told me, “You’re the Richard Pryor of UJA-Federation.” This last show, several people came up to me and asked, “What are you doing here?” “Why aren’t you famous?” Good questions kids….and I tell you why, I’ve felt second best my whole life. I put everyone else around ahead or above me thinking I don’t deserve to be at their level.
Since I started my assistant producer job things have turned. It’s like drinking 15 red bulls in a row and then doing an 8 ball. I get so high and happy from just meeting with him and talking about what we are doing that I go home and bounce off the walls for hours. My baby leg doesn't hurt; I feel strong & smart & fierce, that I can do anything and bend those which oppose me to my will.
If things progress the way I am hoping I might finally be on the right path. Back to the theatre world I should have never left, back to the body which I was sculpting out for myself at last, back to putting myself first and making things count for ME! FOR ME!! Rose move over her comes Brandy!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Check, check....testing 1, 2, 3
Is this thing on?
Hi, faithful readers, as you know I took a break from blogging, one because I was sick and tired of my blog's look, and two I was looking for a new job and started to get worried if the prospect employers "googled" me I didn't necessarily want them to find my ramblings sober or not.
That said, I'm no longer looking for a job and I found a new template that makes me happy! So let the blogging begin...again!
Hmmmmm.....now where to start, so much has happened...
Hi, faithful readers, as you know I took a break from blogging, one because I was sick and tired of my blog's look, and two I was looking for a new job and started to get worried if the prospect employers "googled" me I didn't necessarily want them to find my ramblings sober or not.
That said, I'm no longer looking for a job and I found a new template that makes me happy! So let the blogging begin...again!
Hmmmmm.....now where to start, so much has happened...
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