Thursday, February 26, 2009

There's No Place Like Home!


I am proposing a new holiday.
As a child of the 80's I was raised on sitcoms and Crystal Pepsi, and one of the great TV shows of the era was 227. It wasn't well written nor for that matter was it filled with great actors. What it did have however was a kick ass theme song sung by Marla Gibbs, and the total awesomeness that is Jackée Harry as Sandra Clark. I tuned in just to watch Jackée say, "Maaary," every week. My friend Steven and I have a tradition of singing the entire 227 theme song beginning to end whenever we pass a house with the address number. It never gets old.
Tomorrow is 2/27. In honor of the day I suggest you wear your sassiest ensemble complete with football sized shoulder pads, and giant 80's earrings, and spend the day talking smack on the stoop with the neighbors. I also recommend singing the theme song at every conceivable opportunity and using the phrase, "Maaary," to express everything from glee to disdain.
Happy 227 everyone!!!

The First Month of Club $405

Unemployment is one sick, twisted bitch. On the one hand you get to do all of those things that you couldn't do as a decent productive member of society, like watch The Real Housewives of Orange County for seven hours straight while color coding your pantry, or re-organize your bookshelves by author's year of death. On the downside you can quite quickly drive yourself halfway to the turnip farm by doing nothing but said repetitive, obsessive tasks. A man needs an ambition, a goal, a purpose other than assuring that kidney beans are stored alongside pinto so as not to disrupt the flow of mauve.

Being an actor is all about ups and downs. The work is there and then suddenly it's not. One day you are eating bagels sent from Sutton Foster, and the next you are counting quarters to scrounge up an egg and cheese from the deli. I had an extremely fortunate run where I did not have to ask anyone if they wanted fries or salad with their burger for three years. As a performer in New York that's pretty much as good as it gets.

I asked a friend the other night about his catering gig, and if it was decent, and if so could he get me in, and he gave me this incredulous look as if I had just asked him if he could score me smack. "But you were on Broadway?" He said looking at me with the pity usually reserved for those sleeping at the Port Authority Sbarro.

Oh sweet lord and baby Jesus.
Seriously kids?
Is this how it is going to be from now on?
If tragedy of all tragedies I somehow never work on Broadway again am I going to be looked on as that woman who once had something grand, and then never rose above it? A South Jersey Blanche DuBois past her glory, long since forgotten by those who once adored her?
Oh please.
It may be summer stock in Branson but I will get another gig. How many people luck into a show that wins eight Tony awards? It's kind of an impossible act to follow. I will wait tables if I have to. Buddah knows I have done it before. I will eat Ramen noodles, and forego my daily espresso. I will once again live like the starving artist I once was as opposed to the Broadway actress I got to be. And hopefully someday soon I will get the chance to play the Great White Way again. Because in all honesty people Ramen noodles are just shit.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Montage Number 74!

SO BORED...I've lost count of montages. This one is supposed to wake me up I guess because it is all actioney. Things are exploding and it sounds like Brett Michaels or someone who rocks equally hard is singing. Speaking of Brett I hope y'all are watching Rock of Love Bus on VH1 because I am loving every lice infested moment of it. DJ Lady tribe alone was worth tuning in for. If you don't know who I am talking about youtube NOW.
Will Smith is constantly finding new and innovative ways to bore me. Like now for instance...still boring. How does he do it? Such charisma!

Best Supporting Actor

WALKEN!!! YES! Let's get this party started! I don't know what is going on with his hair but it's Christopher fucking Walken and he rules so it doesn't matter. Ok the black knit cap on Phillip Seymour Hoffman really makes him look like a pretentious fop. Who let him do that? Josh Brolin is so awesome. Could Diane Lane be more beautiful? The answer is no. Oh god the Heath Ledger family shot is so sad. This is going to be rough. How very sad.

Beyonce, Hugh, Zach, Vanessa, My Eyes!

I would post about the salute to the movie musical with Beyonce.
I really would.
Unfortunately I just put a crowbar through my TV and dug my eyes out with my thumbs.
So I'll get back to you.
Burn in hell Baz Luhrmann

Montage Number 3!

Which appears to be a montage consisting of random moments from movies throughout the year. Fascinating. And Twilight boy couldn't shave his faux-goat for the fucking Oscars? Seriously? So now it is 9:30pm Eastern and we are nowhere near the halfway point. AWESOME. Ben Stiller is wearing a Joaquin beard which makes me instantly happy. Plus Natalie Portman's dress is the color of Chicklets. Bonus!
Oh good...another dry Englishman delivering an acceptance speech.
It's like watching a mustard stain slowly dehydrate.
Coleman's Mustard.