Less Traveled By

HNT: All That Jazz

2010-02-11T08:02:00.000-08:00

So, I can hardly call myself a regular HNTer anymore ::shame:: or really even qualify as "occasional" even. But hey, I'm here today, so at late as it is, I might as well.

This is an HNT-worthy shot taken from the headshot I use as a jazz singer. "Come on babe, why don't we paint the town..."

Nostalgia and Jazz

2010-02-11T07:52:00.000-08:00

Okay, first, I am constantly in awe of what some people will do to curry favor, to get others to like them and pay them compliments, including buttering them up like a piece of Texas Toast (my apologies to those not familiar with Texas Toast). This happens so much in theatre, and it's so obviously self-serving, the bile tends to rise in my throat at an alarmingly-rapid rate. Um, of course they're going to be nice to you; you paid them a compliment! Ugh.

ANYWAY.

I'm excited to start rehearsals for BB5 with the REP Company soon. I'm one of only five women in the REP performing as a vocalist in the revue, by which I was both surprised and flattered. I'm also performing in several other numbers, including 'America' from West Side Story. Maybe it's the pregnancy, but it's not hard to make me feel nostalgic lately, and this certainly did the trick.

I did WSS back in 2004 in D-town (as Anita- a dream role for me), and not only did I meet and make friends that continue to be some of the closest and dearest to me (Hello, my Will and Billie Jean!), but it was, to date, the best theatre experience I've ever had. We became an almost-scarily close-knit bunch (and yes, the showmances were flyin'). The show lends itself to bonding between cast members, what with the two rival gangs and the often heated relationships between so many characters. Alot of strong emotions, sexual tension (and steamy dancing) in that show, and it all came out in how close we became. Think 'Dirty Dancing'. We bonded as a group, which made us all the more strong as a cast onstage.

A core group of us hung out to the point of ridiculous; this ended up being a social and emotional lifesaver for me as I was in the beginnings of my very messy divorce. But I could always come to the gym (yes, we rehearsed largely in a non-air conditioned gym- very authentic) and forget everything except this character. Rehearsals were often spent sweating our asses off as we learned the hefty dance numbers. Perhaps the toughest scene I've ever done in any show (where Anita is gang-raped) took a whole two-hour rehearsal to block and run, and at the end both me and my "rapists" were both physically and mentally exhausted. We would hit Sweetwater to blow off steam and then take the party (and the drinking) to Billie Jean's until two of three in the morning. Yikes. It's a wonder I didn't get fired from my job or have a car accident on the way back to Dallas. I wouldn't trade a moment of that experience though, and I'm looking forward to dancing in that powerhouse of a musical number again. Not to mention the opportunity to get to know a whole new group of people.

So that goes up in the beginning of April, and so from here on out I need to decide how much I can (and want) to fit in before the baby comes.This includes going with the hubs to a couple auditions I'm not necessarily interested in but will probably try out for shits and giggles anyway. I already turned down stepping into a role in Grapevine, because I didn't want to stress myself out learning that much music and dialogue that quickly right now. I don't like turning things down, just kills me. But I'm finding myself being even more picky that usual, carefully measuring how badly I wanting to do a certain show against the drive involved, the possible people involved, etc, etc.

Along with that, I have a Valentine's show with the Velvet Kittens this weekend and a regular gig again (finally- yay!) starting later this month in Dallas. So this week is being spent whipping my voice into shape to handle two torch ballads, an uptempo, plus the standard show opener 'When You're Good To Mama'. I got a standing "o" during our last show for that song, so now I have high expectations. ;) Also on the jazz front, there's a more-that-good chance I'll be singing live again when we go to NY in June, and it will be at, ahem ::drumroll please:: none other than BIRDLAND! Birdland is where Charlie Parker used to play and is one of the, if not the most, famous jazz clubs in Manhattan. Charlie Parker himself called Birdland, which opened in 1949, the "jazz corner of the world". I will admit this one is all about knowing the right person (who heard me sing last time we were in NY). I am so FREAKIN' excited!

In preggo-world, everything's moving along swimmingly. We're coming to the end of the first trimester, and for the most part I've kept up my regimen of eating healthy. Though I don't have much choice; the baby constantly craves chicken and salad and fruit (with the occasional McDonald's fries) and still abhors soda and Mexican food. I will admit it's nice going into the 2nd trimester DOWN 16 lbs. The baby bump is small, but it's there. :)

Off to another day of NOT working (does ANYONE need a recruiter?) and enjoying the endlessly-falling snow. Yes! Snow! In Texas!

Like No Business I Know

2010-01-28T10:41:00.000-08:00

::glee::

It's amazing how the red letter news of one's next show can cheer one up. One being me. Ah, the life of an actor. Of course, it also helps I'm almost over The Death Cold while still keeping preggo nausea at bay. The only thing I don't have back yet is my appetite. But I'm not complaining; I'll be eating plenty in the next six and a half months to make up for it.

So yeah- a SHOW! WOOT! SO excited! I had previously announced I would be part of the REP Company (a local theatre troupe of about 50 called upon throughout the year to participate in a 10-production season). The REP has come a long way in the near twenty years it's been around. It's definitely the kind of environment where you pay your dues, but it's also an environment where you work with nothing but supremely-talented people and every experience is one where you grow as an artist. And at this point, that's vital for me.

The audition consisted of a singing round and a lengthy cold reading callback, and I was offered a spot in the REP the next day. I've worked with them before, both as a REP member nearly 10 years ago and as a step-in last year in Death of a Salesman (just a feature role). I met some great new people during that experience, and that plus the level of talent I saw made me decide to go for it this time.

The REP is run by a great gal (not only a terrific director and artist but also a sharp businesswoman) with two extremely talented daughters who, much to some people's dislike, play alot of lead roles in the productions. This kind of "favoritism" (no, NOT my word) used to bother me (as in during my first time in the REP 10 years ago) until I sucked it up and saw how consistently top-notch their performances (and the quality of the shows overall) were. It's the kind of politics that happens at every theatre in every city, period. Yep, it's the business. But what the REP also does is consistently bring in new talent each year and work those people up to to great roles (much like the way many equity houses do) in great productions. That's the business, too. Take it or leave it.

I know I've bitched on here about theatre politics (it happens, everywhere, in some form or fashion), and sure sometimes certain equity (and certainly non-equity) houses in the Big D have made casting decisions based on "who they know", and the production suffered thus. But is this the norm? Gosh, no. Not at all. Especially in the more reputable professional companies. Usually the director knows what they're doing, knows their people and the material, and the production value shows it. Sure, the director has a "vision", the director has a "plan" to make all the puzzle pieces "fit".

What they also have, in most cases, is choices. Alot of choices. Choices between someone the director has worked with before who can play the role in fitting with their vision, as well as someone they have never met who could do the same.

Who do they choose?

Well, who would you choose?

(And let me say, politics are inevitable in theatre (especially community theatre), as is casting for physical type (well, that's everywhere). And anyone who thinks otherwise is in denial. Just the way it is. Not every decision is based on what's best for the production value. Most, but not all. Politics are present, and they're not all bad. And hell, I know there are roles I've missed out on because I'm not a size 6, hello?!?)

Anyway, the answer to the above: the director casts the person they've worked with before in the lead role and gives the "new" talented person a smaller role where they can prove themselves. This happened to me (me being the "new" person) at an equity house recently, and it ended up being one the best theatre experiences I've ever had. It's the business, and if you're willing and able to "pay your dues" the big roles will come your way. Not every time of course, and it's not an end all be all, but your chances are definitely better.

And when, asin most cases, the director knows what they're doing (and doing it for the right reasons) the productions doesn't suffer. And guess what? Everyone involved will have a learning, growing experience as an artist, working with nothing but top-notch people.

This is an ideal scenario, of course, but one I've been part of and privy to. And I've talked to alot of directors I've worked with, equity and non-equity. I've heard point-blank reasons why certain people get cast in certain roles. Some are good reasons, some not so much.

Good reasons:
- "I've seen her play the role before, and I know she can do it."
- "I know his work ethic, and I like it. He'll get the job done."
- "She gave the best audition, and I can count on her."
- "She's exactly what I envisioned for the role."

Not-so-good reasons:
- "She's helped out alot behind the scenes on other shows."
- "It's just her turn."
- "He may not be quite right for the role, but he paid his dues."
- "She's such a nice person and done so much for the community."

UGH. I've heard those not-so-good reasons so many times and in many cases either been in or at least seen the productions associated with them. Less-than-great productions that could have been better. Because of me? NO, people. I'm not that vain. But WOW, I know alot people, especially in community theatre, that wouldn't have gotten half the roles they got if it wasn't for some well-placed ass-kissing and well-done volunteer work painting sets, or it was just "their turn".

These kind of things have alot to do with my level of patience and tolerance doing certain roles with certain theatres. When I see a community theatre director cast a show five years ago with a certain group of people, and then this year cast a similar show with the same base group of people, it makes me raise an eyebrow. And, quite frankly, lower an opinion.

"Well, that's community theatre".

Yes. It is. And that's all it is, and putting on productions based even partly on such things will eventually limit the production quality. And for someone looking to grow, looking to get better, looking for challenges, that environment just won't cut it. And if I'm judged for that, so be it. Do I look petty to some? Probably.

Eh. Small price to pay.

I've been doing theatre since I was eight. My complete resume tops out at over one hundred productions, and the vast MINORITY of these roles are leads. I'd like to believe the (relatively) few I've gotten I deserved. The meat (and often the best) of my experience lies in supporting roles (Anita in West Side Story, Ado Annie in Oklahoma, Erma in Anything Goes, Mama Morton in Chicago- that one was during college) and featured roles (Tess in Crazy For You, Mrs Mayor in Seussical, Miss Flannery in Thoroughly Modern Millie). I love doing them, but the older and more experienced I get, the more choosy I become about WHERE I do them.

The same goes for roles I've played before and the "slutty" roles, a category I seem to be typecast in.

- Will I learn and grow and be challenged by the experience?
- Will I be working with a cast where everyone is at least or more talented than me?
- Is the director and theatre reputable?
- Is it an equity house production?

For where I am in my experience and life, these are fair questions. I'm at a point where I lack patience for decisions that drag productions down for the sake of "community", for the sake of "everyone getting along".

I want to be challenged, I want to grow.

ANYWAY, now that I've gotten off my unintentional soapbox, I'm THRILLED to be part of Broadway's Best, the REP's annual Broadway revue to kick off the new season. It's also apparently a "second" audition for the rest of the season, kind of "prove yourself" kind of thing. Ought to be fun, so stay tuned!

T.O.W. It Found Me

2010-01-21T13:24:00.000-08:00

Ugh, so it looks like the cold, or sinus infection, or whatever (it hasn't quite distinguished itself yet) found me. BLAH! On top of building-a-person exhaustion, I now have drowning-in-mucus exhaustion. Lovely. Truly lovely.

All I want to do is sleep; I should be eating more, but the last thing you want to do when you're drowning in snot is eat. So I'm trying to balance eating enough for the kumquat (that's how big the baby is- a little over an inch for those of you unfamiliar with kumquats) without making myself sick.

At least the next time I'll need to sing for something besides an audition is the middle of February (the Velvet Kittens Valentine's Show). Whew! Of course, I need to polish up those songs, one of which is a pretty hefty torch ballad. After that, I 'll most likely be in the REP's Broadway's Best show (fun!) performing something from Wicked, or Next to Normal, 9 to 5, something like that. Regardless, should be a great experience!

I have a few auditions coming up, but gladly several are plays and one I've already been told to come to callbacks for reading. Yay!

In other news, I am still out of work. At this point, I'm only looking for contract work until the baby is born, since I want to be home full-time for the least the first three months (that's how long the GTF gets for paternity leave- pretty awesome). We're seeing how we do money-wise with just one income. I'm looking at getting back into Mary Kay. I did it very successfully during my first marriage, averaging about $500 in sales a week before things fell apart during the divorce. Might be a good way to be at home and bring in some extra moola.

Anyhoo, back to resting I guess. Just a little extra update in Vida de Babs. :)

T.O.W. Chores and Planning

2010-01-21T07:22:00.000-08:00

I can't seem to stop eating toaster struedels today. Like any other craving I've had in the past 9 weeks, it'll pass. And since the past few cravings have been things like strawberries, carrots, chicken, string cheese, on and on. So this one was a bit of a shock, and with a more overpowering propensity to vomit despite the medicine, I just went with it.

Read more about my pregnancy journey here.

This week, I've been fighting off getting the hubby's chest cold while attempting to get some much-delayed housework done. Laundry, dishes, the works. Very exciting, though we do have a vacation to look forward to.

WOOT!

Our OB ok'd it, so we booked our airfare (not even $350 for the both of us- yay!) to New York for two weeks this summer. It's our third year in row to head up north during the summer. This year, it'll be a little different. We're spending a full week in a gorgeous three-story beach house on the Jersey shore, followed by a few extra days to either hang out upstate or make our way into the city to catch a show. Alot of that will depend on how huge and uncomfortable I am by then (I'll be about seven months along). But I can't think of a better place to be when I'm seven months pregnant, hot and uncomfortable than vegging on the beach.

Am I right?

Yeah, I'm right. :)

Day 1, A.V. (After Vomiting)

2010-01-14T09:00:00.001-08:00

Rachel: "Well, if anyone's keeping track, I no longer eat tuna."

I know, I know, I have a pregnancy blog to talk about vomiting and sonograms and gas, but this level of sick pretty much put everything else on hold for the past few days. I mean everything, including things like walking upright and digesting food.

But, two prescriptions, one flower arrangement from the parents, one nap, and one good night's sleep later, things are MUCH better. I'm still a bit weak, but I kept down both my breakfast and my prenatal vitamin PLUS I even was able to wash my hair and empty the dishwasher.

Trust me, big improvement.

And I'm thrilled to announce I made THE REP! Yay! D.C. emailed me on Monday and formally asked me if I wanted to be part of the Company this year and asked about my pregnancy and which shows it would most likely keep me from doing. I'm a little bummed about Spelling Bee, but there's another theatre doing that in early Spring so I'll try for that one. Other than that, some great possibilities including a Broadway showcase, Jekyll & Hyde, Oliver and others.

I also think I'm going out for a couple shows out in Grapevine again, including Wild Party, Spelling Bee, and Parade. Not sure yet and need to work out what I'd sing, but we'll see. I tried out 'As Long As He Needs Me' for the first time at REP auditions and it went well, but I need to beef up my contemporary repertoire more than anything.

Meanwhile, still looking for contract work while nesting and starting to prepare for Baby. This weekend? Hoping to catch some friends in Laughter On the 23rd Floor at Watertower.

Till then, ta-ta!

-Babs

Out of "Retirement"

2010-01-09T16:03:00.000-08:00

Okay, so "retirement" might be exagerating a little bit.

Quick "let's-play-catch-up" time:

Until today, I haven't auditioned for a show since My Way (a Frank Sinatra tribute, in which I did some work as a jazz singer that I'm deeply proud of, regardless of the over-abundance of diva bullsh*t and an annoyingly- and unecessarily-slanted review); that show went up in early Autumn, followed immediately by (sans audition) stepping into a featured role in Death of a Salesman at RCT with less than a week of rehearsal. "Save the Day, Be the Hero" roles can be equal parts stressful and rewarding (I've done a couple before), but it ended up being a great experience; a breath of fresh air where I happened to make a couple of fabulous new friends (no more petty, small-town, back-biting crap).

By the time Death of a Salesman wrapped at the end of October, I not only was ready to take my stanard over-the-holiday-acting-break, but also:

- We were still trying to get pregnant.
- I started singing professionally full-time with The Velvet Kittens.
- I was given a rather forceful order (I'm stubbon, see) of vocal rest from my long-time voice doctor Dr. Kirkham that forced me to drop a great role in a show being directed by a very good friend.

::wipes brow::

Fast-forward to one hosted Christmas dinner and one sonogram later (yep, we're pregnant, start reading about it here), and I found myself having a day free of "morning" sickness. So I grabbed a resume, a headshot, and my audition bag and tried out for the REP season in my hometown.

And...

CALLBACK!

Fun! (and ::whew::) I got to see my buddies from Death of a Salesman, plus some others from the REP (I worked with them back in 2002) and was told to come back tomorrow for callbacks for a slew of great shows. Nothing for sure yet, but it'll be fun. And it could be my road out of "retirement".

:)

Two Roads Indeed

2010-01-09T08:23:00.001-08:00

Well, my friends, I have again sorely neglected this blog, mostly due to the fact that the GTF and I have been trying to get pregnant and hey it WORKED!

Baby Babs the Blueberry is due in late August, and I have started a whole new blog to chronicle the journey here at Betty With a Bun In the Oven, my new pregnancy blog.

I will try my best to continued this blog with theatre news, general musings and the usual snarkiness, but make sure to to check out the baby blog, too.

MUAH!

Candyland: A Night of Sweets- December 19th

2009-12-09T18:20:00.001-08:00

I will be continuing my role as headlining vocalist at my first Christmas show with the Velvet Kittens Burlesque Troupe on Saturday, December 19th at 10:30 pm! Come see some amazingly sexy dancers plus top-notch local talent in this holiday benefit show:

Candyland: A Night of Sweets

When: Saturday, December 19th
10:30 pm

Where: The Stone Cottage in Addison
15650 Addison Rd, Addison, TX

Cost: One new unwrapped toy! All toys will be donated to the Reach Back Foundation!

RSVP: Visit the Velvet Kittens website for updates and RSVP.

Hope to see YOU there! :)

T.O.W.The Chanteuse Cometh...

2009-11-23T09:16:00.001-08:00

T.O.W. I Might Know a Little Something About...

2009-11-17T18:30:00.000-08:00

** This is a short piece I wrote for a friend of mine to incorporate into an article she's doing for o local arts publication. She wanted my thoughts on the audition process-- how we face it, handle, it, get from it, etc. Having auditioned for literally hundreds of productions, I thought I'd share my thoughts. She also claims to have a photo of me auditioning in the area that she's attaching to the article. EEK! :)

The Audition Process: Practice Conquers Fear.

I started auditioning for local theatre in DFW when I was a mere 8 years old. What for, you ask? Tom Sawyer. I sang This Land Is Your Land, and I ended up in the dancing skeleton chorus. Yes. There's a dancing skeleton chorus in Tom Sawyer. We were also the fence painters. I could sing and all, though the vibrato didn't kick in for a few years yet. Ha! But I digress. As far as auditioning, from the very beginning it was a mix of excitement and fear...and I'll admit it, the majority was fear. At first anyway.

That was over 300 auditions ago.I'm happy to report things have changed, and it wasn't because of something I learned in a workshop or master class.

But I can tell you excitement exponentially began to overtake fear with practice. Practice? Yes, auditioning required above all else, practice. I've always believed (and my personal experience proved it, in my case at least) that nothing can replace experience when it comes to auditioning and the fear involved.

Sure, you can take classes and workshops at your friendly neighborhood Shortcut-To-A-Theatre-Degree-School on what to sing, how to improve your cold readings, what makes a good monologue and even how to write a resume and introduce yourself. And I agree, there is audition etiquette. If they ask for a resume or headshot, bring it; if they ask for 16 bars, don't sing 32; introduce yourself and then your song, complete with show and composer; be kind to your accompanist and thank them no matter how much they screwed up your song with six sharps; be prepared to dance- always- and that means character shoes. Yes, the basics, but again I digress. The only way to alleviate the fear and make auditions a fun (yes, I said fun) experience is practice, practice, practice. (And I don't mean singing your song for your dog or in front of the bathroom mirror. Put down the hairbrush microphone-- I see you!)

Starting in high school, on the advice of my long-time voice coach at the time, not only did I prepare for and audition for shows I wanted to be in, I auditioned for just about everything else I found out about, whether I wanted to be cast or not. I continued this trend through college into my mid 20s. Yes, I did a lot of show, I got a lot of work (especially a lot of chorus work). But the auditions where I didn't particularly want to get cast proved most helpful; this was an essential part of the practice.

And why auditions for shows I didn't want to be in?

First, it was a numbers game, pure and simple. The more I auditioned for, the better chance of getting something. I got my first lead that way-- actually, my first two.

Second, it gave me opportunities to try new things in my audition, to practice new songs and monologues and script interpretations without fear of blowing my chances for shows that were at the top of my list. At one time, I was auditioning for up to 3-4 shows a week. New people, new faces every time and if I blew it I could walk away and come back again later. I kept to myself alot at first; theatre is an overly-gossipy place (duh) and girls especially love to try to outdo each other before they even sing. I adopted a solid "Come, Sing, Dance, Read, Leave" mindset. No harm done, and hey I got my name out there. And this helped lay a foundation for future opportunities.

Third (and this is a biggie), I believe the overwhelming desire to be in a particular show or play a certain role can outrun (and oftentimes completely derail) an audition. Caring too much (which in turn causes anxiety) is the easiest way to self-sabotage. So auditioning for a lot of shows keeps your perspective fresh and your options open. The less I can convince myself I care about a certain show or role, the better I audition.

(The other dirty little side to that is a case of Thisdirectoralreadyknowsme-itis, where you DO get a great role, or roles, all at one particular theatre. I see it too much in community theatre especially. ::shudder:: People stop trying to audition well, to audition correctly and thoroughly. Bad idea.)

Well, the end result of all this auditioning pretty much erased any fear I had, as I refined my skills and exposed myself to various theatres, directors, choreographers, and fellow actors. In short? KNOWLEDGE. I knew what I was up against. I heard other people sing great songs, and I learned them. I watched other people do cold reads, and I took notes. Sure, I still work with a vocal coach. I take dance classes, I work on monologues and look over scripts and sides. But the fear?

Gone.

It also turned auditioning into something fun: in short, it's performance. Yes! It is! Think about it: a chance to perform a favorite song (or songs) for what amounts to an audience, learn and perform a dance routine, and possibly even act out some scenes from the show. Not to mention the added possibility of making a new friend or two. See? Fun.

So. Don't practice to audition. Audition to practice. And sing out, Louise!

T.O.W. The Waiting

2009-11-15T19:52:00.000-08:00

Waiting. I hate waiting.

I did have a good weekend, though, despite feeling like crap through most of it. Still managed to go to a fun jewelry party that my mom hosted, had some rather great sex (TMI? Probably. Don't care.), and cleaned up the ever-expanding clutter that is the upstairs craft room. But it's where I do all the holiday gift wrapping (yes, I have a ribbon drawer-- shut up) so it needed to be ready to roll.

Back to the waiting. I auditioned for a show Saturday morning; well the hubby and I both did. I love doing that, auditioning together. Having a husband that not only supports my second profession but loves doing it as well. And dammit, is the man funny. Serirously, comedic work like this is what he does best. We both auditioned for a play at an equity house, this being a first for him, and I'm SO PROUD! He got asked to read over and over again for a part he really wants! ::fistpump::

There are a hefty number of meaty character roles for men (SHOCKER) and only two-- YES JUST TWO-- females roles, period, one being for a wispy stick of a secretary. But the other is a funny, sarcastic character who's just the right age for me. WOOT! I was hoping I would get to read for her at least a couple times so I could try a couple different interpretations I had practiced. And voila! I did read for part twice and and made the director (whom I've worked with before) laugh with both my interpretations, which despite the outcome of the audition, made me feel awesome. :-D

The hubs and I both did great, and it was so much fun to practice the sides together the night before, giving each other suggestions of interpretation, laughing at each other's punch lines. But damn, I'm just so proud of the hubs. Of course, I hope we both make callbacks, and it would be a little disappointing if he gets in and I don't, just because we want to do a show together. But still- agh! The hubs rocks, and I had so much fun!

Another audition tomorrow, for another show opening after the new year. And my first singing audition since I wasted my time auditioning for Chicago for the third time. It's been a couple months but I sang through everything tonight, sounds great. And can I say how much I LOVE LOVE LOVE musicnotes.com and it's built-in transposer for allowing me to sing songs in JUST the right key? Anyway, tomorrow should be fun. It's another new theatre group for me, and I LOVE that!

More news later. Time for bed, early workout tomorrow. ::raspberry::

T.O.W. #137

2009-11-13T20:34:00.000-08:00

T.O.W Pet Peeve #137: When people do something that's meant to look charitable and respectful and obliging, when underneath it is completely self-serving-- a fancy form of nothing more than kissing ass (licking boots, sucking up, pick your favorite term) . What's more, usually a pitiful attempt to further oneself when previous attempts have failed. What even more annoying are the sheep who tilt their head, murmur sweet nothings and believe it every. single. time.

T.O.W. I'm Thriving On Variety

2009-11-13T11:36:00.000-08:00

In my forever-ongoing desire to broaden my interests, I tired my second new recipe of the week.

First was the chili which-- and I must brag a bit-- was a rousingly spicy success. I can only credit the use of fresh angus ground beef (from one of my grandpa's best calves- yep, Meat is Murder, Tasty Tasty Murder-- so sue me), plus all fresh ingredients from our garden: crushed cherry tomatoes, finely-diced red onions and bell peppers, chopped oregano and my grandma's secret combination of spices.

Oh. my. god.

I let it simmer for a good 6 hours and I swear it didn't need anything except a sprinkling of shredded cheese (well, and some beans for my Yankee husband). I'm making a double batch this weekend and freezig it (plus we're tomato canning too).

Today's recipe was inspired by my sister-in-law's fabulous peanut butter cream pie, but with a twist. Officially, it's called Chocolate & Peanut Butter Ice Cream Crunch Pie. So basically an Oreo pie crust (made from scratch), crunchy peanut butter, vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and crushed Oreo cookies on top. It has to chill for 5 hours, but I can't imagine it NOT tasting good, especially after my overwhelming desire to lick the bowl clean despite the inevitable whipped cream in my hair. But time will tell. :)

Baking tip of the day: Using Fresh Whipping Cream.
Whether it's in the ambrosia for Christmas dinner or a treat like today's pie, I like to use fresh whipping cream from the carton (as in instead of a tub of Cool Whip). It has less refined sugar, is infinitely fresher and, IMHO, makes for a smoother texture (especially for something you want to spread evenly, like a pie).

Alot of people thinks it's a pain in the butt, since you basically have to whip it from a liquid into a stiff foam (hence, taking the tub shortcut). My solution is a chilled bowl and hand mixer. Hand mixer, I know, just about everyone has one these days. The chilled bowl (the carton recommends the use of a narrow chilled bowl0 I know, pain in the butt) is easy too and cuts your whipping time down by about 75%. Don't wait until baking time and realize you need to chill a mixing bowl in the fridge for an hour. Buy a freezer bowl (places like Container Store and Bed Bath and Beyond sell them). Ours came from our Pampered Chef rep. Similar to a freezer mug, it's a double-layer hard plastic bowl with water inside that lives in the freezer for things like ice cream and chilled fruit but it works swimmingly for whipping cream. Buy a couple, wash them and put them back in the freezer after each use. Chilled bowl at your service. Problem solved!

T.O.W. The Little Things

2009-11-12T14:23:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's the little things I'm thankful for at the moment. Getting my sexy new glasses. Finding out the Manhattan Transfer is coming to town in less than a month and there are still tickets left. Getting audition sides early so I can be prepared. Starting vocal coaching with Mr. Awesome. Going yet another day without getting laid off. And the Diet Pepsi sitting next to me.

And...scene.

T.O.W. Homecoming in Pictures

2009-11-09T14:56:00.000-08:00

So I posted a rather large album of SMU Homecoming photos on Facebook (70 I think) and I've gotten a rather wonderful response in general from SMU Alum. I'm all warm and fuzzy about it now. More than once, someone let me know the photos helped capture the essence of school spirit and the rich tradition of the Mustang Band, especially during a time when alot of things are changing (or, well, people are trying to change them anyway). The photos made them glad they were there, or wish they could have been.

This means alot. Not only because I seem to have an eye for photography (I'm loving it more and more as a hobby) but because this school means so much to me and to my family; it's nice to be able to capture that essence.

So, here's a bit of a sampling:

T.O.W. We Are A Tomato Farm

2009-11-09T13:17:00.000-08:00

Okay, quick FYI about previous post: unless you have heard BOTH sides of the story, each from their respective parties, you are not allowed to have an opinion. And now, a word from our sponsor--

Peter Griffin: "Roadhouse!"

The End

* * * * *

Okay, so today, CHILI! Or, more specifically, Creative Uses For the Uber Mass Abundance of Late-Fall Tomatoes From the Garden. Seriously. We're picking at least two dozen a day. And last night, after skipping the weekend due to homecoming activities, I had to grab a basket because NINETY TWO tomatoes would not fit in my sweatshirt pockets.

Thank the lord I've been saving those plastic crates strawberries come in, because I have nearly three of them full of cherry and grape tomatoes in the fridge. I mean really, there's only so much chili, sloppy joe mix and salsa we can make. Next step? Canned crushed tomatoes. Or leaving ziploc bags in family members' mailboxes. I'm good with either.

I'm attributing the late crop to the whacked out autumn here in Texas. I mean, it's been in the 80s for nearly a week now, sun shining...and Thanksgiving a mere 3 weeks away, when it's usually butt-ass cold. I mean it. WHACK. Too much rain and too many overcast days in the late summer kept everything from ripening is my guess. And although it's not in the nineties and triple digits anymore, the sunshine is making the tomatoes (and tomatillos) very happy. Positively rosy even (Ha ha.....ha). And it's better than last year when we lost nearly 300 green tomatoes to an early freeze.

So, here's to Tomato Harvest '09. And honey, I hope you like chili! :)

T.O.W. Decisions and No Good Deeds

2009-11-08T16:40:00.001-08:00

Well, SMU Homecoming 2009 was a big, fat blast. Even without Pigskin Revue, the school with most spirit I've ever seen hit a grand slam with Homecoming festivities, as usual. More of a write-up to come, but it. was. awesome. I love seeing my dad in his element, with my mom, my brother and I behind him. Not to mention SMU won the game, which means we could be up for a bowl game for the first in, well, an embarassingly-long time. Either way, I feel blessed to be a part of the SMU, and more specifically the Mustang Band, family.

Now I'm spending my Sunday in extreme relaxation, the kind that usually makes me feel guilty. Alas, not today. Bills are paid, groceries are bought and while we have alot to get done between now and the holidays (organizing the library, painting, getting the dogs fixed, decorating for Christmas, etc), I'm attempting to enjoy zoning out.

I'm also making an important decision about the performing part of my life. And it comes, believe it or not, from a happy place. I'm singing live professionally in Dallas, something I've been working toward doing for a long time. I'm on my way to Actor's Union membership, another goal that has risen to the top of the list.

In light of this and a couple less pleasant things, I was faced with the harsh reality recently that I've been putting way too much focus on "belonging" with a group of people I always thought of as friends, in a town where I always thought I had a theatre home. The town still holds sentimental value for me; I met my husband there, as well as made a few friends I will have for the rest of my life. I've also played some great roles, which I'm thankful for. But it will never be my theatre home, and the more I think about it, the more it shouldn't be.

I've learned about friendships of convenience, of the penetrable forces of politics and gossip in a town like this one. Most poignantly, I learned the power of a very simple disadvantage: location, location, location. It's hard to defend oneself in absentia, and since I don't live there I always end up on the defensive, after the locals have had a chance to bitch and moan and gossip and rant. People I though to be friends pass me by for a hug; reception is cool at best; I stop getting even the most casual of invitations, out comes the cold shoulder. And it's pretty damn amazing how someone can be self-servingly, backstabbingly in the wrong and still end up the town hero. It's all in the timing, as I've learned.

But what I really had to ask myself is this: Why do I care so much? Why do I care what they think? Why do I care about getting cast?

The answer to each, I found out, was simple: I don't know.

There is an exception. A big one. Thankfully, probably the most valuable thing I've taken from there (aside from meeting my husband) is my friendship with a local actor-turned playwright I met during West Side Story more than 5 years ago. I love him dearly. His theatre company has been in business for a few years but really started to take off last fall. I starred in one of his groundbreaking productions that landed him an indepth interview and me a cover photo in the local newspaper. Yet I was amazed at two contrasting forces: how little attention and support the company and production (not to mention my friend and us as a cast) received from other local theatre groups at the time; AND within a year, the procedural ass-kissing by previously-uninterested parties now wanting a piece of the proverbial pie.

::sigh::

In some ways, it's great. Hey, he's getting press, that is GREAT. I'm so proud of him and the attention his theatre company is receiving. He deserves it- well, he deserved it a year ago and the year before that, too. And I hope it continues and that I can be a part of it. I couldn't be a part of his production (of his own work no less) this fall due to doctor's orders for vocal rest, and even in that I feel as though I've lost friends. Another round of the cold shoulder, and quite honestly, with all parties, involved I shouldn't be surprised.

In "happier" times, I was asked to be a part of the company's leadership team. I can only hope I can retain at least this. I want him to succeed, and anything I can do to make that happen, I will do. For me, it's not a matter of convenience, or personal promotion or gain.

Aside from this situation, I think I've reach the end of the line. I'm not long for community theatre, not here. Very few have been able to maintain a consistent, well-received cross-over of community theatre there and professional theatre elsewhere. Not without a supreme amount of politics, boot-licking, and climbing over the bodies of others, none of which I'm prepared to do.

I think I made my decision a long time ago. Around the same time I realized, when it comes to "friends", I'm more of a three-strike person than a fool-me-twice person (call it a compromise between being a doormat and a frigid bitch, but I'm kicking myself now). And three strikes they were indeed; no amount of sugar on top can turn some things into good deeds. I've had my fill of losing friends to lies and manipulation, though I'm sure I'm not yet done dealing with the repercussions.

But the decision is made. And it's the right one.

T.O.W. The Diamond M

2009-11-06T21:26:00.000-08:00

Well, more details later but the hubby and I spent a wonderful evening at the Diamond M Club (the SMU Mustang Band alumni association) Homecoming Gala. I had way too many gin & tonics but had a blast schmoozing with band alum, all of whom treat us like the First Family. It's flattering and hilarious at the same time. The band was FABulous and even got to hear the new arrangement of Birdland. And it was nice to get "gussied up" in my red and blue and sequins.

Tomorrow festivities start early, and I'lll get to see my dad conduct the band on the field for the first time since he taught there 15 years ago. It's gonna be a great day.

Till later, night-night. "Hubba-hubba"! And beat the hell out of Rice!

T.O.W. I'm Not Bad, I'm Just Drawn That Way

2009-11-04T21:31:00.000-08:00

Not bad, no? The ever-talented Cal Slayton created these headers in a rarely-done commission by request of my hubby, the GTF, for my birthday this year. The likeness, I must say it rather awesome, no? And I really can't complain about the, ahem, rest of it. ::sizzle:

There are actually two, so I thought I'd start the rotation with this one.

::grin::

T.O.W. ::Fistpump::

2009-11-04T14:02:00.001-08:00

"Stand tall, be proud, oh YEAH!"
- Berkner Ram Band drum major cheer (yes I was a lead nerd)

Ahhhhh...audition DONE. Kicked ASS. Beyond this point, it's out of my control but hot DAMN that rocked! Got to sing two awesome torch songs. The troupe director (who recommended me for the gig, so I have a good leg up in that regard) and the club owner were impressed. One of my songs is a 4-minute Christina Aguilera torch ballad, and he let me rop through the whole thing.

I got to sing on the stage with a great sound system, complete with mic and spotlight. Even though my troupe director was running the show, I gave the club owner my new business card and called it a day. Triple WOOT!

Now, I'm gearing up for SMU Homecoming Weekend (I even pulled out my favorite tshirt and SMU sweatpants)- it's always a big to-do at my alma mater. My dad is back involved with the university and band again (he conducted the marching and jazz bands for nearly 20 years, right up through my freshmen year there). I grew up with the band (including a wonderful guy I just did the Frank Sinatra show with) so homecoming festivities are always a blast for me and my family.

Tomorrow night I'll see Dad conduct the alumni band rehearsal. Then there's a Friday luncheon at Snuffer's and the Diamond M Gala Friday night. THEN a full day of boulevard activities followed by the big game (one of the ONLY times I enjoy football...or...sports, period). The nostalgia is irresistible, getting lost in the sea of red and blue, doing all the cheers, sitting with the band in the stands and singing along every time they celebrate a touchdown with the fight song.

The Mustang Band's music arranger is someone I've known I was a kid and he does jazz arrangements and audition cuts for me from time to time. And the band's rousing jazz rendition of songs such as West Side Story's Maria are uh-mazing. This band was the first one I ever sang live with and it's always a blast to hear them play...and to see how happy my dad is when he's conducting again. Music makes up a big part of who he is, and I know how much he misses it and his extended family there, a family who has welcomed him back (well all of us, really) with open arms.

Needless to say, I'm a wee bit looking forward to it (I know, shocker).

T.O.W. I Sing Naughty Songs

2009-11-03T15:41:00.000-08:00

Ah, Tuesdays. Yeah...they're...well, there's really nothing to say about them.

Relaxing evening actually. Grocery shopping done, workout done. I'm keeping an eye on the dachshunds (all 4 of them) wrestle on the living room floor as I sit here still in my Pilates workout clothes and watch Black Dahlia. Perhaps not the best of James Ellroy's books turned into a film but still damn good crime noir.

Before Pilates, I was singing for the first time in about 3 weeks. Let's just say my belt has enjoyed the rest but it glad to be back. I am on doctor-prescribed vocal rest, which for a singer, well, quite obviously sucks the very worst kind of eggs. So why singing? Well, while I am under strict orders to refrain from anything more than an hour of performing/singing a week, I've been saving it up for my work as a Chanteuse.

"Wha' happen", you say?

As I briefly mentioned in the past couple posts, I landed a gig (through a long and rather delicious string of coincidences and knowing the right poeple) as the Chanteuse (professional torch/jazz singer for the layman) for a local burlesque. They're basically DFW's version of the Pussycat Dolls but with a bit more class. They do a true-to-form vaudeville burlesque show on a usually-weekly basis; I sing between dances, sometimes for dances and also do a bit of emcee work. I get to sing all my favorite jazz tunes and lavish torch ballads (and a little Kander & Ebb), shake my ass a little and work the crowd. It's immensely refreshing: me, music, microphone and the audience. They're a sexy, sweet, talented group of girls. And it's fabulous to have an outlet where I can use my pinup look and, hey, the extra cash ain't shabby. Not to mention there's something hot about your husband watching you shake your booty and sing sexy songs in a lowcut dress. ;)

I've been doing the gig regularly since September (after a trial run in August that served as my audition) and we're gearing up for the Christmas show and holiday fundraising events. Probably the most exciting thing is how it's leading to other gigs around town. Tomorrow I audition for variety show in Mockingbird Station. I'd be singing and emceeing the show, and the troupe's director recommended me to the venue owner. YAY!

So, long story longer, I've spent this evening polishing up three songs to sing for tomorrow's audition, for which I must show up in full "gussied-up" mode. So send wishes for many broken legs.

In other performing news, I have a couple auditions coming up for shows that start rehearsals after the new year. It looks like I'll be getting back into a local REP company I've been away from for a few years. And I'll be making my second appearance in a local singing showcase for DFW actors.

What makes me feel old if how tired just writing about all of this makes me. :) Ah, well. The show must go on.

T.O.W. The Pinup

2009-11-02T12:44:00.001-08:00

When I was first hired as a full-time troupe chanteuse, I came up with a burlesque stage name that I use for all the gigs (each girl has one, too). Along with that, I decided to take on the pinup look for good when I'm onstage as part of my persona. The GTF has been great in documenting the look, and we're having a lot of fun with it. And so I give thanks to the god of pin curls, red lipstick, and a good tailor. :)

T.O.W. The Bounty

2009-11-02T11:54:00.000-08:00

Just a little "final results" on the Babs/GTF Garden, Year Five. Well, probably not final results as we have a good 300 tomatoes and 200 tomatillos still ripening out there. But it's been a bountiful year for sure.

And more chances for me to use the Pentax's quite awesome macro setting. :)

T.O.W. The Photo Recap

2009-10-30T09:26:00.000-07:00

My lazy way of catching up on this neglected blog with photos. Yeah. So sue me.

Nasty Naughty Boy: Perhaps my greatest accomplishment this year was landing a permanent gig with a local burlesque troupe. Talk about right place at right time (well, and the right people and okay, I sing kinda purty). Not only are there regular bi-weekly gigs, but now I'm being recommended for holiday shows and variety shows around town. I get to dress like a pinup, ooze sexy, and sing all my favorite songs without the bullsh*t politics and backstabbing green-eyed monsters.

Annie In the Wings: I did 'Annie' yet again. I'm still trying to make up for the fact that I never played my original dream role as a child. I still need to play Lily St. Regis, and at the rate I'm going I'm sure I'll come upon som drag version where I'll get to play Rooster and Daddy Warbucks too.

Empire State Kiss: The hubs and I headed to NYC for a second year in a row in June. Nearly two weeks this time, split nicely between relaxing upstate and spending time with friends (the lovely Miss Brooks and my opera singer friend Slammy) in the city. Oh yeah. And shows. Duh.

Reach For the Sky: It's the fifth year for our fruit, veggie and herb garden. In one word? THRIVING.

Part I - Sinatra My Way: I ventured into yet another local theatre in DFW to do what I love best: sing jazz. Alot of jazz. People noticed. People liked it. Well, the people that matter anyway.

Part II- The Other Woman: I took on yet another naughty character role (typecast much? Yep. Love it.) as The Woman in Death of a Salesman. I was recommended for the role by a former castmate, and came in with a mere 4 rehearsal before opening the show. It gave me the chance to get back into the REP in my hometown (it's been 7 years since I was a member) and make some great new friends.

And Your Little Dog Too: We lost our pom, Sam this fall. And we decided to add to the brood (yep we're crazy) with a wire hair dachsie named Elphaba (Elphie for short). Nevermind that Wicked is my favorite musical but she looked so much like Toto I couldn't help myself.

This Jacko Will Eat You: I ventured even more into pumpkin carving this year. After looking over a couple of online tutorials, I took a shot. And I gotta say- not too shabby. BOO!

Happy Halloween, ya'll! So...um, yeah. YES. That just about sums it up

T.O.W. Frustrated Artist Crap

2009-07-19T16:22:00.000-07:00

"You're not going to pull all that frustrated artist crap on me, are you Noonan?"
- from Bag of Bones by Stephen King

::sigh::

::double sigh::

I have come to, at great length I might add, a rather disturbing conclusion. Okay, first thing's first. I received a wonderful surprise from the hubby (he and GTF are one in the same) last week; expect a rather drastic facelift here at LTB. I won't say more except the following: there's nothing like personally commissioning a talented pinup artist.

::grin::

But I digress. As I poured over my archives here on Blogger during the past week, thumbing so to speak thru pages after pages of anecdotes, I noticed a disturbing trend in my writing. Okay, good news first. I improved. Alot. My narrative became more readable, relatable...dare I say mature? I dare.

I also uncovered a disturbingly distinct correlation between the level of angst in my life and both the frequency and quality of my writing. The more miserable my station, the more in the throes of drama (legitmate or not) my life, the better my writing.

I am thoroughly (ironically) depressed at the practically expotential rate the regularity of my writing decreased as my life regained order, returning me to a state of - dare I say? - near-contentment. So much for the idea of the frustrated arist being a load of crap. No load of crapk, say I. Not even a mere spoonful, what's more.

Perhaps the cost of aforementioned facelift will encourage me to, at the very least, make enough money selling a mere story (dare I, even one?) to break even. That being said, this frustrated artist closes: "I'll Be Seeing You".

AI: The Top Seven (or Adam and His Six Backup Singers)

2009-04-15T09:58:00.001-07:00

Mike: And that was Kenneth with his all-too-literal rendition of 'I Touch Myself'.

Well, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve done a AI recap. And not because I don’t care or I’m lazy. More because we have too many things recording on the damn DVR and only two TVs with which to record. See how I was careful not to end that sentence in a preposition? HA! I’m so proper.

Anyhoo, so my Megan is gone. ::sniff:: I know she made some bad song choices, but I loved that Amy Winehouse/Adele sound she had going on. Of course Annoying Blind Guy is also gone, so I’m doing okay. That softened the blow. Only seven left now! Or I as like to call them, Adam Lambert and his six future backup singers. If his understated take on Tracks of My Tears or last weeks’ Simon’s Standing O-inspiring Mad World didn’t do it, what about this week, hmmm?

The theme? Movie Themes. I see annoying ballads coming. And this week’s “mentor”…Quentin Tarantino? Um…really? Sure, he knows a lot about movies…and even using music effectively in his movies (think John Travolta and Uma Thurman dancing in Pulp Fiction for starters) but give me a break. Sure, if I wanted to know the best way to survive being buried alive or replace my missing leg with a submachine gun, he’d be my guy, but singing? Not so much. Nevermind that I think the guy’s a complete psycho (I know, medical term) and his speaking voice is akin to me running a cheese grater over my lady parts. Whatever.

Hmmm. It seems AI’s solution to the running-over-on-time debacle (didn’t affect me since we also record Fringe, which is on immediately after AI, so I did catch Adam’s marvelous rendition and the resulting standing O) is to have only two judges comment on each performance…oh, and completely ruin that fix by adding a bunch of useless, boring packages on the contestants. Let’s fire some show directors! Geez.

ALLISON: "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" from Armageddon
I’m a big Aerosmith fan, but if anyone could take on a big song rock ballad like this and soar with it, it’s Miss Iraheta. Yikes, she struggled at first- could it be there are notes actually out of her range? She finally got in the groove there, showed her stuff. And I’m glad, because I thinking Lil Rounds isn’t gonna hold out much longer, meaning, Miss Allison is the girls’ only chance at a finale spot. Wow, Simon seems to agree- that was harsh. I wish she would have held out the last note, but still very strong.

ANOOP: "Everything I Do, I Do It For You" from Robin Hood
Not a fan of this overly-sappy, too-long song to begin with, and…is anyone else over Anoop? ‘Cause I am. ::yawn:: Okay, he hit all the notes. Nice tone and all, he’s a good singer but…even he look bored with his own performance, and he’s watched too many cheesy episodes of American Bandstand. WHO ARE YOU POINTING AT? Annoying. Eh.

::drumroll please::

ADAM!!!!! “Born To Be Wild” from Easy Rider
DAMMIT, he’s just awesome. He hits every note and doesn’t just hit them, he wails. I cannot take my eyes off him when he sings, and I swear if one more person disses on the hair or the eyeliner, I’m going to beat them with my shoe. He’s just a star, period. Just the breath support alone. He can sing anything, and if that’s not fair to the other contestants, so be it. GET OVER IT, the guy just rocks. (not sure what Paula’s whole dancing on the path crap was about but I just chalk it up to the bathtub gin and painkillers and move on).

MATT: “Have You Really Ever Loved a Woman” from Don Juan DeMarco
Urgh. Crappy movie, crappier song. “Here, Bryan Adams, this is a long, droning music track. Go try to fill it with some words, m’kay?” “Okay, this track is crap, so I’ll just say the word ‘really’ 37 times in the each chorus and problem solved!” Sorry, just do not like this song, and Matt’s rendition wasn’t much better. It’s hard to go much with that song unless you’ve got some arranging skills and are willing to really take a risk (Ahem, Adam). He seemed to almost crack on some notes and the whole number seemed awkard. He does have some great presence, though.

DANNY: “Endless Love” from Endless Love
Cheese alert! Love Danny, but this song is another cheesy ballad. And honestly, all I can think of when I hear it is the ice hockey rink scene from Happy Gilmore. However, Danny can pretty much sing anything, so I’ll try to be fair. Nice to see him without the glasses, and he really can do a ballad. Nice instrumentation and he’s very expressive, though he does one of my pet peeves- he waves his arm like he’s conducting himself. Distracting. Overall, though, really liked it. Solid. Enjoyable.

KRIS: “Falling Slowly” from Once
(Okay side note, you’ve GOT to see this movie if you haven’t yet. So incredible, and a gorgeous song.) This is first night I’ve actually liked Kris AT ALL. He’s just been very “Eh” to me all season, just another decent-looking guy that can strum the guitar and hit some notes, but I loved what he did with this one, especially at the end. Nice! I think the judges were a little harsh, jeez.

LIL: “The Rose” from The Rose
What’s it gonna take for you to sing some Whitney “Crack Is Whack” Houston, dammit? Hello?!? Bodyguard? This was your last chance to blow it away, and ya BLEW IT! (not to mention the Western Slut R Us look you had going on) AND not to mention that I’m a huge Bette fan, and I can’t stand this song (or any song by her) not getting done the right way. The song is supposed to be simple but powerful, and instead it came out sounding like something at a religious version of Hee Haw. Ugh!! But poor Lil. Between Simon’s comment about Allison being the only hope for the girls, and he obvious displeasure in her in general, I felt bad for the girl. Then she went and argued with Simon and got cut off for time reasons. She should just go home this week.

Best: Adam. There was no one else near him tonight.
Strong: Kris, Allison
Worst: Lil, and I think she’s going home, though Anoop or Matt could be in trouble, too.

T.O.W. The Annoying Bliss

2009-04-08T14:24:00.000-07:00

Chandler: Oh, and Ross, by the way-- your neighbor? Growing weed.

No, this is NOT my secret-but-not-really way to tell my friends I’m growing pot (Now THERE’S a party!) in my backyard. That’s next year. Kidding! No seriously, unless there’s someone out there that likes to smoke dried chives and carrot tops. But since my last entry (ugh, I’m reached new heights of Slacker-dom), our garden has taken great leaps in its trip to bountiful (hahahaha…ha…yeah). These annoying, random late freezes might have killed off the baby cucumbers and okra (shut up, we eat okra down South), but there’s still plenty of onions, garlic, carrots, lettuce, beans, strawberries and herbs coming up.

If that’s not domestic enough to make you vomit into your mint julep, we’ve also started baking our own bread (two loaves a week) and I’m learning to sew. Starting with (what else?) aprons! I know, it’s sickening in that “aw, how sweet” sort of way. My husband teaching me to sew. Not that he won’t be reaping the benefits. The aprons are retro styles, meant to bring to mind the likes of June Cleaver or Lucy…but when it comes to the GTF, they’ll probably spend more time in the bedroom than the kitchen.

Yeah, I know. TMI. Deal with it.

When I’m wallowing in domestic bliss, things are pretty much the status quo for Vida de Babs. I’m doing a show (two, actually, until April 20th). And, um yeah, to all you people who like to overlap shows all the live long day, you’re CRAZY! How do you do it? Of course, if I get one of the two next auditions I have, I’ll be doing it all over again. Guess I better put on my own crazy pants. The hubs are doing one of the shows together, which includes actually acting opposite each other in a couple of the show’s funniest pieces (Tear Jerk and Stud and a Babe, if anyone cares). When I originally just typed that, I put “Teat Jerk”. Wow.

In addition to acting together, the GTF and I are FINALLY out of the post-miscarriage danger zone (aka, I’ve had two periods- I know, more TMI) and can start trying again! Hoorah! Condoms-be-gone! Sorry. My filter is broken today.

There’s tons more I need to write about, but I’ve slacked off from actually working for about as long as I can.

More soon.

No really. :)

Feeling Special Today: The Proximidade Award ::golf clap::

2009-04-08T14:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I must say I feel rather honored. I've received another blog aware, this one from Leya over at Wandeca Reads. I think it's rather awesome (and a little hilarious) that people like reading my sometimes-slightly-exaggerated narrative drivel and overly-snarky comments. So this made my day (sorry, again, Leya, that I was so late responding)

About the award:

"This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY-nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement! Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this clever-written text into the body of their award."

So...thanks once again, Leya! Now off to find my eight recipients! MUAH!

Babs

T.O.W. Teaser Tuesdays- finally

2009-03-03T12:57:00.000-08:00

Rachel: "Joey...do you want to put the book in the freezer?"
Joey: "Yeah."

Time for Teaser Tuesdays! I decided to try this author after numerous recommendations, even though she's usually not my style (i.e., the kind of book that becomes a Lifetime original movie). But I adored Nineteen Minutes, so I'm trying another. So far, awesome.

1. Grab your current read.
2. Let the book fall open to a random page.
3. Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
4. You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
5. Please avoid spoilers!

My teaser:

“He kissed her so gently she wondered if she had imagined it. She pulled back slightly, to look into his eyes. And then there was a shot.” – The Pact, Jodi Picoult

T.O.W. The Second 12

2009-03-02T13:41:00.000-08:00

UPDATE: Yep, so I posted this on Facebook last week and here very late. Oops Results came and went, and again I was 2 for 3- Adam and Allison, but again the third person t take the short train to the Top 12 came fro my wild card best-of group, so not bad. :) This week? Final group of 12.

Well, the torture of choosing the top twelve continue. I swear, if Paul or Cara complains one more time about "having to" sit next Simon the Brit with hot ass, I'm going to pummel them with canoe paddles. Oh and Ryan, Simon called, he wants his jeans and black shirt back that you can't even being to fill out.

ANYway, so last week we added Michael Sarver, Danny Gokey and Alexis Grace to the Top 12, leaving poor Tatiana to fend for herself in the wild card round with all the non-alien-clown contestants. This week, well, let's get started!

Okay, AGH! Dear sweet 'I was in Wicked" Adam Lambert is on tonight- Suh-WEET! Okay now really, anyway...

Jasmine Murray. ::sigh:: She's cute and young and is one of those cookie-cutter contestants (i.e. this year's Jordan Sparks/Jennifer Hudson). She was good in Hollywood, etc. and she's good but needs to do something different. And different is is- 'Love Song' by one of my faves Sara Bareilles. Ooh, she's trying to be original but she was off pitch quite a bit- that surprises me; it's like she's pushing it too hard. Did NOT show her pipes. She does look fresh, young and cute. Seems a little nervous. Ooh, got better then got worse again. I just don't know on this one. Strong end note, but over all, not too impressed. Judges seemed to agree, good; Simon went right to the point- she's too young for this right now. By this performance alone, she's not too versatile. I could see her get through on her backstory and personality alone, though. We'll see.

Matt Giraud- Ah, the dueling piano player. CHEEZEBALL ALERT!!!!!!! He's actually pretty likable; I wish that had focused on him a little more in Hollywood. He has legit piano skills and rocked 'Georgia On My Mind' in his final Hollywood performance. He's going more emo rock with Coldplay's 'Viva la Vida'. Love that song, but let's see how he does without the piano. He's got a little Billy Joel going on, I like it. Came out and commanded the mic and this song suits his voice pretty good so far...ooh watch the vibrato. Yep, Billy Joel, also a little John Mayer. Ooh, bad on falsetto. He's a strong musician, so I'm already a little bias there. He could have showed off his pipes, but overall I rather like him. Hmm, judges could go either way....waiting...they say not bad but not excited about it. Didn't show off his voice and he could've gone further. This isn't the time to play it safe, people! Somewhat agree with them some not. It IS like he's trying to change his image, and I agree it's not a good time to do that. He could be in trouble...

Jeanine Vailes- Another one of the older contestants (WOOT!). She's very unique-looking, gorgeous and likable. I wish that done more backstory on this gal, must based on her personality. She's singing Maroon 5 (says because it's comfortable- eek, could be another safe-song mistake). Hello, short shorts. She looks great. Bitch. OH MY SO BAD! She CANNOT stay on pitch, it's like the backup singers are throwing her off. Overdone completely. Again, doesn't show ANYTHING off in her voice and does not give any room for changing the song up. It's like it's Top 10 Karaoke Night tonight. YUCK! Judges agree; she blew her chance. Next.

Aside: Mm, Maroon 5. Adam Levin is ALL KINDS of hotness. Seriously. Just come sing 'Sunday Morning' for me every weekend, and I'll be happy Adam.

Nick Mitchell, a.k.a. Norman Gentle- Oh, f*ckity-f*ck. I hate this guy. He's this year's joke (think Sanjaya Malakar but on the Geek Squad). He can do what passed at random times for singing. ::sigh:: Gee, who shall he perform as tonight? It's AI's very own Sybil. Oh god. He's dressed as Norman- over nerdy with headband, tux jacket and shorts and glasses. Ok, seriously, Jamar didn't get through but this flippin' guy who is singing And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going, talking to the audience like some cheesy variety show host. It's actually making me angry. Screeched out the high notes.If you have to squat to sing high notes, ya don't have them! Dammit. I just want to slap this guy. I hope they ROAST him. UGH. Dumbass America will invite him through, most likely. I agree with Simon- GO HOME and take your weirdo parents with you!

I love Ryan's response to Simon's question about Nick: Simon asks "Did you like him, Ryan?" Ryan answers "Probably not in the way you do." Yep, getting his toes outside the closet, anyway.

Allison Ireheta- Wow, I have no idea who this chick is. She's annoying me already, trying to be all theatrical. Okay, she's 16, no wonder. Well, at least she's taking on a big song to impress- 'Alone' by Heart. Hmm, let's see. She better be damn good, since no one knows much about her. She's got that rough, soulful sound; I like it. Great presence, I think, especially for someone so young. Here come the big notes- YEAH BABY! off pitch for just a second and then took OFF- nice work! First standout of the night! May have overdone done it a bit, but she has been the best so far. She does need to keep that voice healthy, yikes. Wow. I actually liked that. YAY, the judges agree and LIKED IT! I think I might be an Allison fan!

Kris Allen- Another person I know NOTHING about- thanks, producers. Okay, plays guitar. Very...humble. Hmm. Seems kinda boring so far. Ooh, he likes to sing Michael Buble. POINT! He's singing...MJ's Man in the Mirror? Huh. Okay...maybe...hmm...start

ing a litle low for his range, a little too soft rock sounding in the rendition. I'm afraid it will not impress. Yeah. Boring, boring. From what I could tell (and it was hard) he has a good voice, but that did nothing to really show it. Did the bouncy dance thing too much as well. I think he'll be another victim of safe-song disease. Hmm, judges were split on him. He was "eh". There's much better.

Meghan Corkery- From Salt Lake. Very unique-sounding voice and she doesn't seem as memorable as Simon said she was. Ah, another sinlgle mom sob story. Sorry, they're getting old. Yet ANOTHER they didn't really focus on in Hollywood. She is singing Corrin Bailey Rae, one of my favorite artists- 'Put Your Records On'. Cool, she seems to have that bluesy kind of voice. Huh, she's pretty. Wow, NICE. So very nice. Very Diana Krall, Nelly Furtado, Adele...she's a natural at this kind of modern jazzy R&B- that remake on classic like Aretha and Rosemary. I like this girl quite a bit, actually.I'd love to hear her sing some Minnie the Moocher or something. She picked the right song, for sure. Judge seem to agree- YAY! I love her.

Matt Breitzke: Another good ol' boy; I liked him from the beginning and they spent quite a bit of camera time on him in Hollywood. I like him better than the other good ol' boy Michael Sarver..I wonder if they're room for both of them in the Top 12. He's singing Tonic's "If You Could Only See"- kind of a boring song, actually, so hmmm. I think of groups like Hinder when I hear him sing. He's doing a great job on the song, showing off his voice more than some others tonight, but he's just not blowing me away at all. Overall, BO-RING. Judges pretty much agree. I think Matt might be in trouble here.

Jesse Langseth- ANOTHER single mom. She reminds me my good friend Billie Jean, and I really like her personality but don't remember a whole lot of her voice. This is the gal who got in over Frankie Jordan, so I'm already a bit biased. She is singing one of my favorite songs- Kim Carnes' 'Betty Davis Eyes'. Awesome! There are a few of these gals this year- this soulful, rough, unique voices and she's one of them. She needs to hold out those notes and not move her mouth away from the mic like that. She needs to work on her presence, but I could this gal as well making an album. I do not think the performance was a big enough impact, though. A little weak overall. I 'm curious what the judges will say on this one, I'm a little split. Randy nailed it- she needs to show more range, but she took a good risk and her image is good. Huh, maybe.

Kai Kalama- I kinda remember this guy, a little strange. Eh, he is not that memorable but seems kinda sexy in a Lenny Kravitz sort of way.. Singing 'What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted'. Yet another BORING song, geez. He looked in pain the whole time. He showed a LITTLE more range than I thought he would, but not much. If he could have picked a better song, that could have gone alot better. ::sigh:: He IS very likable but again underwhelmed.

Mishavonna Henson- Ah, the one who came back. She made it Hollywood and got cut last year and this year mad Top 36. She's a cutie. Singing 'Drops of Jupiter' by Train? Okay....she's actually doing some nice stuff with this song. She's soulful, expressive on stage and reminds me a bit of Katherine McPhee. She's pretty likeable, actually, and did quite a bit more with that song than I thought. Will she be top 3? Maybe- they have her alot of screen time in Hollywood, and the performance was pretty strong, could be a chance. Yep, another bad song choice according to the judges. She needs to have more fun? Sure, I see that. I think she deserves another chance. Wildcard?

Adam Lambert- Another night to end it with a bang (um, Danny Gokey last week) GOD I love this guy. He's a music theatre guy who can ROCK IT. Ooh, Rolling Stones 'Satisfaction'. Should be original. Yep, slowing it down a bit...ooh, sexy on camera. DAMN. He just knows how to put on a show, period. And his voice is just plain solid. X factor, yep. I would have picked a more risky song, but he put his own twist on it a bit and ended big- and seemed effortless. MAN, he can wail like Steven Tyler, I swear. But he's controlled. Damn. The judges were split a bit, but overall it looks good for Mr. Lambert. God, I hope so.

Best: Adam Lambert, Allison Irehata, Meghan Corkery
Worst: Jeannine Vailes, Nick Mitchell (ugh)
Possible for wild card: Mishavonna Henson, Jesse Langseth, Kai Kalama or Kris Allen?

Results tonight! :)

T.O.W. An Update from a Blogging Loser

2009-03-02T09:30:00.000-08:00

Rachel: “Ross?!? You kept count? You are such a loser!"

So. It’s been a little while. Again. ::sigh:: I can be such a blogging loser sometimes. But at least I’m trying to do NoBloPoMo…again. Yeah. Anyway, Life de Babs is definitely is picking up…speed-wise, that is. The Hubs and I have moved past the drama of the miscarriage and on to continued positive thinking, plus bigger and better things!

First, our garden. This will be the fourth year for our fruit and vegetable garden and the second year we use the awesome space we created last year. Said awesome space consists of two 8X5-foot raised beds, plus a stone patio filled with our herb garden shelves and an array of potted tomato, pepper, and strawberry plants. This year, we built a mulch pit, as well as constructed a lattice for our future pumpkins and melons to rest on. We started seeding everything from tomatoes to beans to chives in-house two weeks ago; and this weekend, after cleaning out last year’s mess, we added dirt to both beds and put in rows of carrots, lettuce, garlic and onions. We like to get them started now since they take a while and will need the shade of the tomato, pumpkin, and melons plats once they start growing. Our tropical plants are still hanging out in the library until it’s warmth enough to put them back out by the pool, but the hydrangeas, lilies and banana palms are already sprouting with the promise of spring Hoorah!

Ah, La Theatre. Well, after a personally-disappointing result from the Crazy For You audition (hey at least I had a good audition and made the final callback- I would only accept the lead- yeah, judge me), I finally accepted the role of Miss Hannigan for OhLook’s production of ‘Annie’. I swear, since I never got to play the title role as a child, I’m making up for it by doing this show every chance I get. Grace Ferrell? Check. Miss Hannigan? Check. Now all I have left is Lily St. Regis. ::grin:: Normally, I wouldn’t want to do a role so far out of my typical age range, but she’s a true comic gem of a part with two (at least) great songs, so I couldn’t pass it up. Plus, it’s nice to be one of the “professional” (her word, not mine) people a director can call up and depend on to do a great role. Plus, um, one more word: PAID! Yeah.

And now it’s looking like I might be having the good ol’ (and fairly rare) one-two punch on role offers. The Hubs and I attended callbacks for I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change for PCT on Saturday, and that went VERY well indeed- just one big, long music sight-reading session. We’re supposed to hear on Tuesday, and I feel good about it. I would love to do another show with the Hubs, plus I would LOVE to get almost the whole summer lined up now. If that falls through, there’s plenty else to choose from though.

Oh, one last thing! The Hubs and I also restocked our nightstands with new books to read. Amongst my upcoming reads are The Reader (now a major motion picture), Jodi Picoult’s The Pact, Sundays at Tiffany’s by James Patterson, and Grisham’s new one The Associate. Yay! ::glee::

Whew!

So...how are you?

T.O.W. Who Got Thru- The First 12

2009-02-19T08:28:00.000-08:00

Well the always-too-long-results-show-that-could've-lasted -two-minutes was last night. It's really more an excess of judge bantering and annoying back stories (too late!) and promos (okay, I'm sorry but I loved how when all the Idol winners were together at Disneyworld and Taylor Hicks felt the need to keep introducing himself- classic)...and Ryan pretending he's not gay and doesn't want to get in Simon's nicely-tight jeans.

I'm sure most of you already know who got through; I was too busy watching Leverage (flippin' great show, especially if you like the Ocean's movies) and other stuff we needed to get off the DVR, plus rehearsing audition songs. So I skimmed through the episode...really fast.

Well, I got it right on 2 out of 3 for the Top 12 fast track picks- way to go America, it's not late enough in the season for you to lose all common sense and good taste! Enjoy THAT while it lasts.

Anyway...

Danny Gokey- Yay! They should go ahead and just give him a Top 5 slot, seriously. I just hope he and Jamar are still friends after this. Did you see Jamar's face on Tuesday night? It was either a very deep sadness or a quiet, murderous rage; I couldn't quite tell. But I digress.

Alexis Grace- SUH-sweet, Part Two! I freakin' love her and her pink hair, and apparently so does America. Yay!

Michael Sarver- Mr. Personality, the oil rig guy. Now I did say he would be a good choice for a wild card pick, so I was KINDA right but not really. :) Apparently he barely scraped past Anoop, another good wild card pick. Michael is very likable, and Simon nailed that one- if he got through that would be why. Fine.

::happy dance:: Sorry, Tatiana, wild card for you. Buh-bye. Get that shocked look off your face about Danny making it instead of you. Puh-lease. Yep, yeah, now go weep dramatically. ::glee::

T.O.W. The First 12

2009-02-19T08:23:00.000-08:00

Monica: I wouldn't know what to sing.
Mike: Well, I have a book you--
Monica: 'Delta Dawn'.

So it's the first of three (god help me) nights of 12 contestants. Geez, 36 finalists, but I do say I like the harsh elims this year. Basically, they will quickly go from 36 to 12. Each of three nights, a group of 12 will sing. From each of these groups, three will (based solely on America's vote) automatically be put into the Top 12. The other 3 of the Top 12 will be determined in a wild card round (I"m thinking the judges pick these? Not sure.). So basically these contestants have a very short amount of time (well, one song) to stand out from the crowd, which means if the producers didn't focus on your heart-wrending back story at least a little bit during Hollywood week, you're at a rather large disadvantage, even if you can sing.

This week's theme? Billboard Top Ten Hits since the inception of...Billboard Top Hits. That's...broad. Geez. Plenty of room for good songs...and crappy choices. I'm sure there will be plenty of the latter tonight. After a good ten minutes of verbal diarrhea courtesy of Ryan Seacrest, here we go!

Jackie Tohn- She actually is pretty funny, a little rough around the edges. One of those people we saw in initial city rounds (where she did well) and not since then, unfortunately for her. She did one of my favorite Elvis hits, A Little Less Conversation and...butchered it. Part of it was the arrangement's fault. But she fell into this overdone lounge singer style that did NOTHING to show off her pipes, which have, if I remember, a sexy rough quality to them. It was messy, like she was trying way too hard. There's Paula clapping her palms together, sipping her vodka, sorry, Coke. Jackie works the stage well, but vocally it was a nightmare and she looked like Olivia Newton-John doing Thriller. Next.

Ricky Braddy- Ah, what a sweet story about going from frying chicken fingers to American Idol. Sense the sarcasm. I remember his Alicia Keys rendition in Hollywood- very Gavin DeGraw, and I liked it. Tonight he sang A Song For You, one of many AI's old standbys (second only to Ribbon In the Sky. Typical arrangement, but this guy can sing. A few too many runs, but still solid. Stage presence? Eh. He blinks and looks up a lot. And another one they haven't really focused on in Hollywood so I'm afraid his good but unremarkable performance tonight won't win over anyone.

Alexis Grace- One of my fave picks this year- Miss Pixie Pink Streak. :) She's come out of her shell since her initial audition. Geez. The 21-year old single mom was featured quite a bit in Hollywood, and her look is old-school Gwen Stefani. Huh. Never Loved A Man- wow she's singing Aretha. Big song for her and man, she owned it. Looks sexy in the flapper-like dress, pearls and red lipstick. I can easily see her being one of the three to go straight to Top 12. I agree with Simon on the Kelly Clarkson comparison, though I think Alexis is even more talented and versatile. This girl can sing the blues, and I love it. Awesome.

Brent Keith- One of the older constants (29)- word! He's a good ol' boy, and I am already liking him, image-wise. Ooh, he's going country with Hick Town. Hmm. He's cute. I like the dimples. And...eh. He's not a bad singer, but the song and performance seems a little karaoke. Okay, quit doing the frowning jump and down thing. He's likable and all, can sing country, but not gonna make enough of an impression. He might be good enough to compete in the wild card. Maybe. But overall, yawn. Cute but yawn.

SIDE NOTE: Right, Randy's new Annoying Repetitive Phrase is "Good lookin' out, man". It's already tap dancing on my nerves. And I'm sorry, but I LOVE Cara, unlike so many other people. She's nice but pointed and actually gives solid advice and usable tips.

Stevie Wright- Yay, another one of my favorites! Fresh looking hip, young. And she's singing...Taylor Swift? What? What happened? And oh dear, it's bad. Very bad. What happened to the folksy, funky Stevie? Where did she go? The song is boring to begin with, and the range of the verses and bridge is WAY too low for poor Stevie AND the backup singers keep overpowering her. Plus, she can't seem to keep on key. Wow, she's nervous. Seventeen and nervous; yeah, her voice just gave out on a short belt note. Yikes. They're gonna rip her, I'm afraid, and I can't blame them. Very disappointed in my Stevie.

Anoop Desai- I'm always doing a mental double-take at the voice that comes out of this guy.He's surprisingly soulful, as he was during a couple R&B renditions in Hollywood. And he's singing Angel of Mine by Monica? Ugh, I will try to be nice; I hate that song. I close my eyes and he sounds like Brian McKnight almost. Wow. I think he might have a dark horse shot at clearing the top 12 right off the bat, and if not he should be up for a wild card slot. He had a couple pitch problems (he was nervous), but I was pleasantly surprised on his rendition of a song I don't care for. People are going to like him regardless, I think.

Casey Carlson- Ugh, one of the customary stick sexpot girls who will either end up in Playboy or get caught with naked pictures on her cell phone. Simon, or rather, Simon's penis put her through to Hollywood and I don't think she's anything special. What's with the Nancy Sinatra beehive hairpiece? Anyway, she's singing The Police-- Everything She Does Is Magic? 'Kay...unusual (read: awful) choice, and one of those where there's alot of pronouns to awkwardly change. Yeah. Very karaoke, boring, uneven, off-pitch, and isn't AT ALL a song to show off the voice. Her movements scream show choir. Though I do think it's a bit unfair for Simon to indicate Police songs are off limits. Is Sting such a godlike being that us mere mortals aren't worthy of singing his songs? Still. Rough. Very rough. Or as Simon said "Atrocious". Well put.

Michael Sarver: The oil rig roughneck who made the Top 36 after one of the pointless sing-offs at the end of Hollywood week. I've liked him since his initial audition. His voice is okay, just another Big Sweet Guy Who Can Sing Pop, but he's likable. They focused alot on his story during Hollywood, so that'll put him ahead of some of the others, but let's see how the actual singing goes. He's singing Gavin DeGraw, I Don't Wanna Be. Good one for him, but it came across a little...goofy. He can sing, yeah, he's alright. And he's having fun, great presence, even though he didn't do anything original with the song. It got a little karaoke at the end, so the whole thing was overall average for me. He should focus more on some R&B maybe. I agree with Simon again, if he gets through it's because people like him.

Ann Marie Boskovich- This was the gal who was told to come back in her initial audition with more confidence and earn her Hollywood ticket. For some reason, she then got through. In Hollywood, she actually came out a little bit and showed off her personality. Overall, though, I didn't find her very likable or remarkable. Her song, You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, is a tall order. Yikes. She looked angry throughout the whole performance and just couldn't hold out on those big notes in that song, even though you could tell the arrangement was watered down to accommodate her range. It's like she kept running out of air, and it was very underwhelming. Completely. She does not have the pipes. Period. It sounded like a karaoke demo tape version, which is, oh wow!-- what she does for a living. Blah. Another sub par stick insect.

SIDE NOTE: Ooh, stop the DVR fast forward for the Xmen preview. Mmm, Hugh Jackman, all kind of fierce yumminess. Anyway.

Steven Fowler- I love me some Steven. Pianist, great voice. Did awesome in Hollywood until his final solo night when he forgot his words while accompanying himself and simply stopped and walked off the stage. But they kept him, and I'm glad. He's singing Rock With You, surprisingly, and it should be interesting. He is not used to singing without the piano. Aw, I thought he would do some cool rendition... and no. But I like this guy. He's smooth, hip-looking. He's comfortable with himself and onstage. Took a song that is typically a throw-away MJ dance song and made it a little R&B soulful. Enjoyable, actually. The judges didnt' seem to like his song choice or think it "represented his style". I'm getting TIRED of this comment, and I disagree with the judges on this completely. Maybe I just like his overall presence, but I hope he moves forward, even if it's the wild card round.

Tatiana "Killer Clown Laugh" Del Toro- The fact that I'm even seeing her on the Top 36 makes me want to drive to L.A., cut off my arm and throw it at her. Seriously. She's such, as Simon puts it, a drama queen and I know he doesn't want her here either. Problem is, she can sing pretty damn well. Dammit. She's unusually demure tonight. And she's singing Whitney Houston's Saving All My Love For You, one of my fave pre-crack Whitney songs. Good. Singing Whitney is always a kiss of death unless you're Jennifer Hudson (ugh, biggest ripoff ever, her not winning). I will say this- she knows how to dress for her curvy figure. The beginning a little low for her range. Crap. She handles the R&B big notes admirably, and she actually works the camera well. She's like those girls at theatre auditions that are good but bitchy (or obnoxious) so it's double-annoying. Dammit, that was actually not bad. The dramatic head drop ending just grinds on my last nerve. I have this bad feeling people will keep her around just to see what will happen, see if she'll kiss Simon on the mouth or rip off her clothes and run around the stage. I hate to admit she could stick around. Sheesh.

Danny Gokey- Time for one of my VERY favorites- Mr. Danny! So excited! The soulful, gritty guy who lost his wife a mere month before auditions. He could do no wrong in Hollywood, and he's singing another song I don't care for- Mariah Carey's Hero. It KILLED ME that his best friend Jamar (who SHOULD HAVE been in the Top 36) is in the audience. The guy has already won alot of hearts in America I think, and he's the only one (well maybe he and Alexis) who I'm pretty sure is taking the fast track to the Top 12. His rendition wasn't particularly innovative, but it's gave him room to put his style into it. He's comfortable onstage, a truly talented vocalist, and has terrific presence. I agree with Simon (yet again); a great way to end the show, and I'm sure we'll see more of him.

Best: Danny. Alexis. And, ugh, Tatiana.
Worst: Casey Carlson, Stevie Wright (sniff)
Good for wild card: Steven Fowler, Michael Sarver, Anoop Desai

AI Season 8: Thoughts (Well, Strong Opinions) on the Top 36

2009-02-16T18:34:00.000-08:00

So. I finally got around to watching the selection of the Top 36, after managing to not find out on the Internet, from coworkers, etc.

First, a couple strong opinions:

ECSTATIC: Can I tell you how relieved I am that Joanna Pacitti was disqualified for her previous, um let's see, record label contract, just to name one thing? Not to mention working with 19 Entertainment before. What's American Idol about again? Oh, that's right, UNDISCOVERED talent! You've had your chance, sweetie, ya blew it. Go home. (Buh-bye. I was, however, dissappointed in her Wild Card replacement, Felicia Barton. See Frankie below)

HORRIFIED: Oh, Miss Tatiana Del Toro, or whatever the crap the loony's name is. I know she can sing. Whatever. Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ, WHAT are the judges thinking here? Answer? They might be screaming at the top of their lungs to send Psycho Laughing Saggy Boobs back to Crazy Land (well Simon is), but my guess is the producers demanded to keep her just to maintain some drama on a show with steadily declining ratings the past couple seasons.

BIGGEST LOSS: Frankie Jordan. Okay, judge me. I love Amy Winehouse. Alot. Well, I love her music. She's a vodka-soaked, blow-coated piece of garbage, but her retro-influenced music is gritty and funky and sexy. And Frankie's voice remind me of that sexy grit. Amy Winehouse, Katy Perry, Adele...Frankie. Loved her.

ANyhoo...

My (very few) favorites at this point:

Adam Lambert. OK, I PROMISE it's not just because I saw him on the Wicked tour and he's a musical theatre geek. Okay, maybe a little more than half of why. :-D The guy is unique, likable and can wail like, among others, Steve Perry. I wondered during the group rounds if his personality was an attempt at being too different, a sort of faked geeky modesty. But his torch ballad version of Cher's Believe succeeded to winning me over the rest of the way. I know. I know, fellow Wicked fans, shame on me, his musical theatre turn should've been enough. Sorry. But out of all the contestants, I see him easily transitioning into making an album at this point.

Stevie Wright. Since I discovered (rather late) artists like Ingrid Michaelson, Sara Bareilles and Colbie Caillat, I've grown fond of these soulful folksy singers coming to the forefront over the past couple years. And Stevie is AI's best chance of giving an unknown in this genre an incredible opportunity. Gritty. Soulful. Genuine. Love her.

Danny Gokey. He lost his wife not long ago, and his very best friend (Jamar Rogers, the other big loss in addition to Frankie Jordan mentioned above) barely missed the Top 36. He's souful and genuine, an everyman whose voice brings to (at least my) mind a combination of Michael Buble, Jason Mraz, and Gavin DeGraw; maybe a little bit of groups like Hinder. He's a charming cutie with an edge, and I really hope he sticks around until at least the top five.

Alexis Grace. Ah the pink-haired pixie. I have to admit a have a soft spot for these funky gals. In the past they tend to fall out early, but I think Alexis has some staying power. The young single mom is more than just a gimmick or a charity case; this girl can sing, period, and she's got that cute, peppy likability.

People I'm not so impressed with are the ones who seem to be cookie cutters of past contestants, i.e. "this year's Jennifer Hudson" (Jasmine Murray), "this year's Fantasia Barrino" (Lil Rounds), the customary All-American Carrie Underwood blonde (Kendall Beard), etc. Ah, and how about this year's Sanjaya-like joke, Nick Mitchell a.k.a. Normal Gentle? Okay, he's genuinely funny, really he is; but he belongs on Last Comic Standing. IMHO, he's another producer decision to keep the drama going. Excepting Nick, these cookie cutters are great singers, they nail all the notes. But there's nothing original, there's just...nothing. Ugh. I'm finding I tend toward the singers who take songs and turn them into completely original performances (and that means not just adding a bunch of annoying runs); they come across as singers who I could see excelling as songwriters too, which is more and more relevant to success in the music industry today.

Well, I guess I've rambled long enough. It's going to be an interested season; we'll see who else stand out in the proverbial crowd.

Bring it, Season 8!

T.O.W. The Normalcy

2009-02-11T15:57:00.000-08:00

So I'm sitting here watching American Idol wondering the usual. How do 90% of these people make it this far? Who will Simon make cry tonight? What IS in Paula's Coca-Cola cup ('cause it's not Coke. Or water.)? What instrument of torture would I use on that annoying, creepy-laugh Tatiana girl?

Wow. The guys are kicking ass!

The best part about this? I'm NOT crying. Or thinking about the events of the past week. Or avoiding looking at the pile of pregnancy and baby books on my bookshelf in the bedroom.

Hoorah!

Hey, um, girls, it's really not necessary to go braless. Those things are gonna hit your chin. Seriously. It's pissing me off.

Sorry. Getting distracted. This is what happens when I try to write and watch AI at the same time. Anyhoo, I'm simply overjoyed at the fact that normalcy has found its way back into my daily life. I'm back at work, which is doing wonders. I'm not one of those people who can sit home on my ass all day. Well, not for very long anyway.

This group of contestants is particularly good at taking well known songs and making them very original. I freakin' love it!

I need something to do, daily responsibilities and goals, well, you know the drill. Okay, so I wish these daily responsibilities involved learning music, attending rehearsals, yeah. THEATRE. But hey, ya know, it's a job. That I like and I'm good at. And where I'm needed. So I'm back, and I'm amazed the difference it's made. Even spending two days catching up and putting out fires felt good. Go figure.

I'm also auditioning again. I was offered a show (sans audition) last week and turn that one down; rehearsals had already started, and it's a show (and role) I've done several times. Plus at the time, I just didn't feel like I could commit. I was offered another show (paid thank god) this week (again, sans audition- not sure what's up with that but I'm not complaining).

I'm thinking about it. I've done that show (the second offer) but not the role and it'd be a fun one. Plus rehearsals for it wouldn't start until June- long wait, but I like having stuff lined up. I'm holding off on accepting due to a callback tomorrow night (for another summer show)...and ANOTHER audition in just over a week. Whew! Lovin' it!

Three cheers for normalcy!

T.O.W. The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very Bad Day

2009-02-03T19:19:00.001-08:00

Rachel: There's rock bottom, then fifty feet of crap, then me.

Yep. I stole my title from a quite terrific childhood book. One I will have to wait a little longer that I originally thought to read my first child.

About two weeks ago, I started spotting very lightly. A week ago, I called my OBGYN, Dr. Deborah Fuller (D Magazine's Best OB of 2006), whose nurse told me to come in immediately. My first OBGYN appointment as a pregnant woman, with The Hubs in tow, did not turn out the way I always imagined.

No.

Instead of that magic moment when the husband and wife hold their breath only to tear up happily at the sound of that heartbeat, I sat bleeding and sore in the sonogram chair, my feet cold in the stirrups as the sonographer (a very, very kind man with pictures of his family and those amazing 3D sonogram pictures with clever captions posted all over his tiny office) pointed out a gestational sac that showed something that was NOT a seven-and-a-half-week old fetus. But I still hadn't lost hope.

That came a few moments later.

When The Hubs and I met with Dr. Fuller herself (a wonderful woman who earned very inch of that awesome reputation). She showed us the sonogram pictures. I laid holding my breath (and my tears) on her table now, my feet cold in her stirrups (my toes that I painstakingly manicured myself because the Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy jokingly said it's a little thing we can do to make ourselves feel pretty at the OB office) as she explained there was a gestational sac. There was a yolk-- that was way too big. What wasn't there? A fetus, she said. Any fetus at all.

That's when the world slowed down. I cried and apologized to my husband. Dr. Fuller made me sit up and look at her while she rather forcefully reminded me this was not my fault, not his fault, nobody's fault. Then she instructed no tampons and no sex. At least for now.

Brokenhearted and still crying with a needle hole in the crook of my right arm, I left the office from my first pregnant OB appointment with the 99% certainty of a miscarriage, no fetus, but instead something called a blighted ovum that neither I not my The Hubs did anything to cause. I cried all the way the home as the Hubs called the family with the opposite of the good news we shared a mere three-and-a-half weeks ago. I asked the Hubs to hide the pregnancy books and cards from family and a couple of early bottle purchases; and instead of faithfully reading the next chapter in my Week by Week book and laughing at Girlfriend's Guide (the Hubs had been reading it to me), I read a pamphlet called Empty Arms, still not quite comprehending what had happened.

The Hubs guided me to the car once again that day and took me shopping, gently prodding me to choose which sanitary pads I wanted, picking me out some comfortable underwear and a comfy pair of slippers and making sure to snag the latest issues of People and Us Weekly. Over the next few days, instead of waiting for the DNC procedure (a surgical miscarriage) to be scheduled, I started bleeding heavily, cramping and on Sunday began having the miscarriage itself. It's a slow painful experience, at least for me, made worse by another trip to the doctor on Monday, complete with very painful sonogram and exam and more bloodwork, between which I was forced to sit in the waiting room with half a dozen visibly pregnant women. The only thing keeping me going is the support of my family, my friends (many of whom who have admitted they've experienced this before themselves), and my husband, the light of my life, who buys me comfy underwear, runs me baths, and lets me hold onto him when the cramps get really bad. He's been using a theatre metaphor to calm me- this was a dress rehearsal, just a dress rehearsal. I'd be lost without him.

I, well we, are healing. Slowly. Waiting for blood tests on hormone levels. Taking alot of pain meds and trying not to lose a positive attitude. Little things make me cry. Like it being okay for me to take a sip of margarita. or soda with caffeine. Or the 6-month pregnant woman at Cheesecake Factory. Or the fact that my boobs aren't tender anymore.

Or thinking about the fact that my baby would be the size of a blueberry this week. Except there's no blueberry.

So I'm trying to keep my sense of humor and remember that one of the most fun parts of being pregnant is trying to get pregnant (good news, said my OB, that at least I know I can get pregnant, and quickly).

So anyway, there it is. Miscarriage. Start over. Try again.

Thanks for reading, my friends. Thanks for listening.

T.O.W. I Draw A Blank

2009-01-23T09:02:00.000-08:00

Rachel: I don't see you weeping because you put your slippers on the wrong feet.

Seriously. Besides the uncontrollable pregnant weeping, I can't think of anything to write about. Okay, well, I started my 14th Birthday Party Hammer Pant Story:

"Ask any child of the late 80s or early 90s, and they will (or should) wholeheartedly admit to owning at least one item of clothing that inspires simultaneous feelings of fond nostalgia and burning humiliation. For me, it was my black and white polka dot Hammer pants. Paired with just the right shiny, black patent leather loafers, and those pants were unbeatable in the summer of 1990."

That's as far as I've gotten, but I know you're drooling for the rest of that story. The Pregnant Weepies have kicked in full time, and I now have the uncanny ability to cry at literally the drop of a hat, or in my case an earring. Or while holding a co-worker's puppy. Or upon hearing an inspiring sports story, which in regular Babs mode brings nothing but a mere roll of the eyes. But now? Don't let me watch Rudy.

Mom is taking me to lunch today and will come bearing the gift of more pregnancy books. After that, I will probably spend tonight catching up on sleep (the past couple nights have been rough going) so we can continue with clean-up-the-house-for-baby projects this weekend.

ANyhoo...talk again soon, my loyal readers. ;)

T.O.W. The Crabbies

2009-01-22T08:43:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: What the hell is this?! What, did you actually thought it would make me feel better to give me stuff that I can’t use for another two months?! This sucks! All right, what’s my next present?!

I officially have a case of the Crabbies. Or the Crying Crabbies. Might be more accurate. I am in SUCH a bad mood ALL THE TIME, and everything annoys me and/or makes me cry until I'm hiccuping and resembling a wrestler who's been TKO'd. It's ridiculous.

This morning, our cats got things rolling for me in fine fashion. I go out, in nothing but a robe, to feed the dogs and cats. I'm half-asleep, my sleep mask propped on my forehead, and then I trip over something near the cat tower and fall on my ass. I feel something scrape my leg as I fall and realize that the metal gate we have up separating the kitchen from the living room (it's temporary while we're still house-training a dog) has been knocked over.

I know immediately the cats did it (they try to nudge the gate open in the middle of the night to lay on the couch and this time they nudged too hard), and now they know I know. From my what was probably rather hilarious-looking position on the floor, I am yelling at the top of my lungs at the cats, who take that as a cue and dart off up the stairs away from all the yelling.

I'm still lying there, bleeding and yelling in my bathrobe when the Hubs runs in, wet and wrapped only in a towel (he was in the shower); he had heard me yelling and probably I was being attacked or dragged into a van by my ankles. When he comes in, I go immediately from yelling and cursing to crying. He very calmly helps me up and puts the gate back before leading me back to the bedroom and telling me to get back in bed and calm down.

Yeah, I apologized later. Whatever. Stupid cats. They still hadn't come downstairs when I left for work. The hubs just chalked it up to my current case of the Pregnant Crazies, which he teasingly calls it with a wink and thens kisses me on the cheek. Which made me start crying again. Gotta love him.

T.O.W. Carol Channing's Jam

2009-01-21T11:47:00.001-08:00

So you can see the Carol Channing's Alice in Wonderland 'Jam' acid trip for yourself...

T.O.W. I'm Juiced

2009-01-20T12:58:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: God! Ooh! What is that great smell? It's coming from the bathroom. Ooh!
Chandler: Wow. Pregnancy does give you some weird cravings.

I'm having my first official craving bout. And no, it's not anything crazy like hamburgers dipped in caramel sauce or candied olives with cottage cheese. Nope. It's orange juice. I mean seriously. All the time. If I went by all the pregnancy websites and books, it's supposed to mean my body (and, this week, the sweet pea) are needing Vitamin C...more Vitamin C than what's in my super-mondo-prenatal vitamins, apparently.

But yeah. 3:00 in the morning found me standing at the island in our kitchen in my wiener dog pajamas drinking good ol' high pulp OJ right out of the Pampered Chef juice container. I know. I'm such a guy. Honestly, in my semi-conscious state I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hold onto one of our overly-bulky glass tumblers that feel as heavy as my one attempt at mug pottery. I plan on picking up a couple of gallon at the store and labeling them 'This Orange Juice Is the Property of the Sweet Pea's Mom- KEEP OUT!'. Problem solved! This morning on the way to work, I had to pull over at probably the scariest convenience store EVER and pick up four small bottles Tropicana. Sheesh.

Meanwhile, not just one but two of our dachshunds have begun acting bizarrely and I'm pretty sure they realize something's different about me, something that makes their protective instinct kick in. Both Sadie and Chucki Sue (dangit, there's a great baby name out the winder ;-D) follow me everywhere- while I'm cooking, when I go to the bathroom...they sit or lay around me, keeping a lookout. When we're watching T.V. or I'm reading, they must be ON me, which is also new. Usually the Hubs is the human dog pillow, but both the dachsies sit there and emit this eerie combination of whining and howling until I lift them onto my chest and tummy. Sounds sweet and all, but I can tell you it will get annoying sooner rather than later.

In other preggo news, well, there isn't any other. I'm feeling pretty great except for some back soreness, and I taking full advantage of it. Score!

T.O.W. The Partner In Crime

2009-01-19T22:16:00.000-08:00

In the midst of my first day of NOT feeling nauseous or tired or cranky, I found out a good friend of mine I met doing theatre is also pregnant! Agh! She's a few weeks more along than I am, and it's her second, but I had been hoping to have at least one preggers friends nearby so we can talk to have lunch and cause trouble...well as much trouble as two pregnant music theatre performers can make, anyway. :-D

Crazy day, so I'll write more later.

WOOHOO!!!

T.O.W. Sunday Suckage

2009-01-18T23:41:00.000-08:00

I always get the blues on Sunday, usually because I haven't done what I wanted to do over the weekend and now it's back to the grind for another five days. ::sigh:: Not QUITE the same today. Okay, I do have the blues, and I don't feel like writing but I want to because of friggin' NaBloPoMo (even though when my Internet won't work it makes things a little challenging, yeah just a little).

I did stuff done this weekend; namely cleaning out the storage unit I mentioned on Friday. Wow, do I have alot of CRAP. It was fun to revisit old show photos and playbills, and I forgot how much kitchen stuff I had. I didn't even bother bringing it all when i first moved in with the GTF, as his kitchen is equipped like Emeril's, I swear.

Other than that, though, my other activity was to sleep, since the appleseed baby (well, I think now it's a chickpea baby) is using up all my energy and still demanding I eat steak and drink vats of orange juice. I like sleeping and all, but it makes me feel like such a lazy slug. I did manage to squeeze in some Pilates today, but still.

I will wake up Monday morning feeling useless and depressed that I'm actually looking forward to going to work where I have something to do. ::scowl::

T.O.W. Never Jam Today

2009-01-17T22:18:00.000-08:00

You know how something you watch as a kid is the most captivating, fantastic thing you've every seen, and then grow up, manage to track it down and are supremely disappointed in how unfulfilling (or just plain boring or stupid) that something is as an adult?

I thought that's how my experience would be with this version of Alice in Wonderland. It's a made-for-television version, about 3 hours long, that played in miniseries form on ABC in the mid-80s. It boasted a host of songs by Steve Allen and all-star (well for the mid-80s) cast including people like Sammy Davis, Jr., Steve & Edie, Ringo Starr, Jack Warden, Red Buttons, John Stamos, Beau Bridges, Ernest Borgnine, Harvey Korman, Anthony Newley (who wrote the beautiful songs for the original Willy Wonka movie), Jonathan and Shelly Winters, Pat Morita, Patrick Duffy, Artie Johnson, Martha Raye, Ann Jillian, Roddy McDowell, Carol Channing...on and on and on.

It's actually quite accurate to the rather twisted book by Lewis Carroll, most definitely more so than the Disney version. Yep, twisted. Everybody in Wonderland is just odd enough to be a little creepy, as if they're all high on something pretty potent, as I'm pretty sure Mr. Carroll was when he wrote the story in the first place.

I ADORED it when I was, oh, around ten at the time, and I managed to find it on eBay on DVD. Score! Friday night I took a deep breath and prepared to be disappointed...and...wait for it...WONDERFUL! It really was. Just as charming, and I actually appreciated the jokes more, the simply brilliance of some of the songs and the utter wackiness of some of the others (i.e. Carol Channing's rendition of Never Ever Jam Today, right before she turns into a goat. Don't ask.).

Hoorah!

T.O.W. The Friday Grumpies

2009-01-16T10:01:00.000-08:00

Rachel: Ugh. I have pee again. If I haven't come out in five minutes, it means I've choked to death on the potpourri stank!

It's Friday. And I have the Grumpies. I'm exhausted after four nights of crappy sleep (I know, I KNOW, I should get used to it) on top of growing a person, I'm systematically drinking water and peeing it out, and I'm retaining water like some life-sized super-absorbent paper towel. That just sucks eggs. Oooh, eggs...yummy. Anyway.

So yeah, I moved offices today. Awesome. Just what I want to do when I'm exhausted and grumpy and bloated. Move files and wall hangings and piles of paperwork, not to mention disconnect and reconnect my phone, headset and computer ALL MY MYSELF because our IT department (read: one recent college grad) doesn't have time to do it. Then he has the audacity to ask me if I know how to plug everything in. Um, really? Did you just waste 3 seconds of your Cheetos-and-Mountain-Dew breath asking me that?

Tomorrow I have the unbridled-riding-horses-on-the-beach joy of cleaning out my storage unit, which includes a dresser and a piano ("Sure, Dad, I'd love to have Great Grandma's ancient piano that sounds like a cat having sex with a banjo!") and umpteen boxes of crap. Okay, so it'll be nice to have the $128 a month back, but UGH. My parents and his parents will be helping (and will spend the whole time squealing about being grandparents) and they probably won't let me lift anything, but it's just a waste of a weekend. The Hubs has Monday off, so he doesn't care, but I DO.

Yeah. I need a drink. And I CAN'T HAVE ONE!

Now that I've cheered you all up, Happy Friday!

T.O.W. Laaaate HNT: 'Splash'

2009-01-15T19:48:00.000-08:00

Ugh. Naughty today. Maybe because the whole preggo thing has me feeling not sexy today. But this always cheers me up, so here's to HNT! I call this one 'Splash'..yeah I really enjoy the waterfall in our pool. ;)

**(and on a totally different note: At first I watched American Idol to see the great talent. Then I watched it to ridicule people make asses out of themselves. Now I watch to see what ridiculous, dumb-ass thing douche bag tool Ryan Seacrest will do each night...like trying to high five the blind guy. What a butt munch).

T.O.W. A Quick Note

2009-01-14T23:49:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's because I'm just grouchy pregnant lady, but I have realized one of my biggest pet peeves is people I don't know calling me "sweetie", "honey", "darlin'"...you get the point. In writing it's okay, but in person, especially when said person is being condescending or trying to deliver bad news, it makes me want to heartily throw rocks in their general direction.

The following people are allowed to call me pet names: my husband (who is the only person allowed to call me Hot T*ts), my dad, my mom, and a small group of good friends that have been given special permission.

That's it. Period.

Especially when someone is trying to be condescending, or impatient or just plain rude. Saying "sweetie" is a passive-aggressive cover because what you really want to say is "b*tch" or that nasty nasty c-word.

Ugh. Stop it!

That is all.

T.O.W. Teaser Tuesdays 1/13/09

2009-01-13T09:42:00.000-08:00

Chandler: Okay, so how bummed were you when the second sister died huh?
Monica: The second sister dies?
Chandler: (Pause) No. No, I-I was, I was talking about the book I was reading.
Monica: The second sister dies in Archie and Jughead Double Digest?
Chandler: That's correct.

Time for Teaser Tuesdays! This is one of the wonderful reads recommended on NPR during the holidays. So far, it has done everything BUT disappoint. Enchanting.

1. Grab your current read.
2. Let the book fall open to a random page.
3. Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
4. You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
5. Please avoid spoilers!

My teaser:

"'They have all forgotten'," I said, and began to laugh myself. I was already defending him. What could I do? He was the only man I ever loved."
- Esther's Inheritanace, Sandor Marai

T.O.W. Musing Mondays...Late...Yeah...Shut Up

2009-01-13T07:11:00.000-08:00

Rachel: Ross?
Ross: Yeah?
Rachel: When Carol was pregnant with Ben...were you this irritating?

Quick Preggo-Babs Update: Yesterday was a full bout of morning (what's the morning bullsh*t? all-frickin-day) sickness, which I'm hoping was partly due to lack of sleep the night before and also my prenatal vitamins. I got plenty of tips from helpful friends and fellow bloggers (I love you guys!) and am now fully stocked on animal crackers, saltines, and dill pickles, amongst other things. Feeling much better today, actually.

Musing Mondays

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about assigned reading…

How did you react to assigned reading when you were in school/university/college/etc? How do you think on these books now? What book were you 'forced' to read when you where in school that you've since reread and loved?

Leave a link to your answer in the comments , cuz I wanna know, too!

Well, I was one of those nerds who adored getting assigned a new book to read (trust me, I made up for it with my pitiful performance in both math and science). Of course, the fact that the book was assigned reading and was therefore homework that would inspire future quizzes and tests, meant I had to sigh and grumble and roll my eyes with everyone else. I felt I had to rebel a little bit to fit in and not get beat up in the band hall...I mean choir room...oh forget it. To do this, I would wait until the night before chapters 1-5 were due to read them. I don't know if that fact that I read really fast developed from this or if it was my quick reading that allowed me get away with this. Either way, it worked out...for every book...but one.

And that book...was Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. I never thought in my life I would say I hated a book, but I hated that one and still do. Not that it's Mr. Bradbury's fault; I love Mars is Heaven and Something Wicked This Way Comes. But a book about book-burning, and giant screens, and crazed firefighters...I just couldn't get into and hated every damn second of reading that book. Not even Anthem and Atlas Shrugged (yep, read them both ::shudder::) by Ayn Rand ranked as low as good ol' 451. And my quiz scores showed it. ::winces::

But now...onto the good stuff...

I had several favorites I read throughout school, starting with The Hobbit and A Wrinkle In Time (and The Wind in the Door) ending with A Tale of Two Cities, with alot in between. Just about every book I read in school I loved because I had an awesome English teacher to go along with it; it makes all the different truly, and I had one teacher (junior year AP English) that I believe helped foster my love of reading more than any other. Deborah Manning was the toughest, most sharp-tongued teacher I ever had; Junior AP English had a rep for kicking your a**, all because of her, but I looked forward to the challenge.

And with Mrs. Manning, I fell in love with all of the following: To Kill A Mockingbird, Huck Finn, Great Expectations, a host of Shakespeare plays, the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1984, and my all-time favorite: Animal Farm. "All pigs are equal, but some pigs are more equal than others."

Ah, poetry.

T.O.W. The Annoyance

2009-01-12T22:59:00.000-08:00

Ross: If you all could just walk slower, that'd be great.

I love it, I mean REALLY LOVE IT when I spend an hour and a half writing an amusing anecdote about wearing polka-dotted Hammer pants and black patent leather shoes to my fourteenth birthday party and Blogger decides it's little "Save Now" button needs to take a smoke break or something.

I mean seriously. Made my night.

::grunts::

We'll try again tomorrow.

T.O.W. I Will Not Vomit, I Will Not Vomit...

2009-01-11T23:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I promised this whole blog wouldn't about pregnancy and all that crap. HOWEVER, I am having my first real bout of morning sickness, which because of my mom's total avoidance of it, I had fervently hoped I would also pass right over.

WRONG!

Ugh.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to balance things like deciding on a nursery theme (I'm thinking Sesame Street?) with other things like seeing what I can still audition for so the timing will be right for whatever size I will be. THAT'S fun. :)

Anyhoo, weekend over, gotta go rest.

T.O.W. We're Having A Baby...Yep, We Are!

2009-01-10T19:39:00.000-08:00

Rachel: "I'm pregnant. Whenever you're ready...just...yeah. And you're the father, by the way, but you know, you got it..."

Yep. Pregnant. Me. Us! AGH!

::kicks feet in glee::

Four weeks and due in September, to be precise. So, here's the deal:

- Wednesday: peed on a stick- two lines! Told The Hubs.
- Thursday: went and got a blood test- positive! Told Hubs' dad in NY. Started prenatal vitamins.
- Friday: told boss and head nearly exploded not telling anyone else.
- Today: told my parents, his parents, our siblings, and best friends, and since I changed my Facebook status and am writing this now, well, that means we told EVERYONE ELSE too!

::kicks feet again: ::knocks over lamp::

We've only been trying for a few weeks (since we got married on 12/04) so we're (pleasantly) shocked it happened so fast. So far, beside peeing alot, sleeping alot, and my boobs being p*rnstar swollen and sore, I'm feeling pretty good. I have a separate pregnancy blog so I won't bore my insanely large and always-rapt blogdience (ooh, new word) with every back twinge and vomiting session.

I will say that right now our baby, a (beautiful) bundle of cells, is about the size of a chickpea, but I love it already!

So...now you know. Divine and Pregnant Miss B!

T.O.W. I Am Have Been Premio Dardos'd...and Honored

2009-01-09T08:29:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: Pies? Oh, we thought you said "prize", so....here!
Monica: 'Grand Supreme Little Darling'?
Rachel: Congratulations!

Well, I must say the Divine Miss Babs is feeling rather humbled and honored today to be receiving my very first blog award, the Premio Dardos award. Sounds fancy, huh? Uh well, it IS!

I must thanks the lovely Lilly for enjoying my often self-directed-snark-laced blather on a daily basis and possibly even sneaking back into my archives before I, the prodigal blog child, took a rather long break (read: I caught Writer's Lazy-Ass disease)

Lilly, my dear, this award has made my day and more importantly makes me feel as if I've officially reclaimed my little corner on the blogosphere.

Now..about this award.. (is it mas girly- or geeky- that I love love LOVE the logo?)

Premio Dardos Award. Over at Reading Extravaganza, Miss Lilly will remain forever one of my first 10 Followers (yep, this means I'm wanting that list to grow- hint hint) and if you haven't check out her corner of the blogosphere, you're missing out.

Less Traveled By may not be alot of things, but one thing it is? All me.

And now for the award details:

This award acknowledges the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day. The rules to follow are:

1) Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person that has granted the award and his or her blog link.

2) Pass the award to other 15 blogs that are worthy of this acknowledgment. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

The blogs I am awarding (So excited, I think a little pee just came out- I know, TMI. Not too late to take it back, Lilly! :-D) are by people from whom I draw daily inspiration to better myself as a writer, a reader, an artist, a friend, a person..or they're just so damn funny, it's riDONKulous.

Magazine Man, the King

My Dear Friend Catpants

Ken and Ariel, the dirty pretty people

Leesa over at Peace of My Mind

Breakup Babe, blogger turned author

I Kicked Cancer's Ass

An Explorer's View of Life

T.O.W. The Best "Blank" Song List

2009-01-08T11:37:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: "I do mostly acoustic, folksy stuff. But now I'm working on a couple Iron Maiden covers, so..."

One of my favorite playlists on the Almighty Ipod contains nothing but songs that invoke specific memories and events in the life 'o' Babs. I'm amazed, similarly to how amazed I am at the power of scent memory, at how powerful a song can be at bringing back a specific memory, good, bad or ugly.

In a similar vein, I've composed (can you tell I'm bored/distracted at work?) a short list (it's a work in progress) of what I call The Best "Blank" Song List, i.e. The Best Sex Song, The Best Breakup Song...you get the idea...I hope.

So here we go.

Best "We Are Broken Up And I Hate You" Song (female): 'So What'- Pink
sample lyric: "So what; I'm still a rock star; I got my rock moves and I don't need you; And guess what; I'm havin' more fun; and now that we're done, I'm gonna show you tonight; I'm alright, I'm just fine; and you're a tool."

Best "We Are Broken Up And I Hate You" Song (male): 'Gives You Hell' - All American Rejects
sample lyric: "When you walk this way hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell; when you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell..."

Best "I'm A Woman And Therefore Never Need A Man Ever" Song: 'All The Single Ladies' - Beyonce (The most addictive song EVER)
sample lyric: "If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it..." (repeated ad nauseum)

Best "Let's Have S*x In A Public Restroom" Song: 'You Know I'm No Good' - Amy Winehouse (it's just a dirty-sounding song with a sexy beat)
sample lyric: "Meet you downstairs in the bar and hurt; Your rolled up sleeves in your skull t-shirt; You say 'What did you do with him today?'; And sniffed me out like I was Tanqueray."

Best "You Should Date Me Instead Even Though I Have Crazy Eyes" Song: 'Girlfriend' - Avril Lavigne
sample lyric: "...I think you know I'm damn precious; and hell yeah, I'm the mother f*ckin' princess...she's like, so whatever; I can do so much better; I think we should get together now; and that's what everyone's talkin' 'bout."

Best "Pathetic I Must Have You Please Give Me One More Chance" Song: 'Scratch' - Kendall Payne (this one always makes be cry, it's ridiculous)
sample lyric: "...I've been wondering what you're thinking; and if you like my dress tonight; would you still say you love me under this ordinary moonlight; I'm so afraid of what you'll say; I'd like to know if you'd be open to starting over from scratch..."

Best "The Title Sounds Mean But It's Really A Sweet Song" Song: 'You Ruined Everything' - Jonathan Coulton (it's about his kid, FYI)
sample lyric: "I was fine; pulled myself together just in time to give myself away; once my perfect world was gone I knew; you ruined everything in the nicest way."

T.O.W. HNT 1/8/09: Tangle

2009-01-08T08:51:00.000-08:00

Rachel: Wow, check me out. I'm in my apartment...naked. I'm eating an orange...and I'm naked. I'm lighting the candles...naked...and carefully...

An HNT that combines, IMHO, my three best physical characteristics. ::wink:: I call this one 'Tangle'. I might not have a love/hate relationship with my boobs or my lips, but my hair and I do round and round.

Happy HNT, and join in here!

T.O.W. Today's Intake

2009-01-07T20:47:00.001-08:00

Joey: We're Tribianni's! Eating is what we do!

A small glass orange juice
2 servings baked tostitos with homemade salsa
2 Diet Dr Peppers
A large arugula salad with tomatoes, mushrooms, 1 serving fat-free croutons and lite olive oil dressing.
3 oz. grilled lean filet
1 serving lowfat wheat 4-cheese pasta
2 glasses water

T.O.W. I'm Jerking Off

2009-01-07T10:07:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: Ooh, yeah. Then what are you going to put on top of that?
Joey: A little salami.
Phoebe: Ooh yeah! Then umm, what goes on top of the salami?
Joey: Pastrami.
Phoebe: Oooh, yeah. You’re a genius.

Well, that title's a little misleading I guess. Gonna be some disappointed Googlers out there who typed "jerking off" in search in a fit of horny anticipation. Ha! Surprise!

I AM talking about meat. I guess a more appropriate title would be Jerky-ing Off My Entire Work Day, since said meat came from a deer on my grandparent's ranch and has since been turned into the best. venison. jerky. EVER. I mean seriously. This would bring the most ardent vegetarian to the dark side, at least for a day.

This is me attempting a sort of mental shift (see? change!)-- finding joy from the little things in life-- in this case dehydrated, stretched-out deer meat.

Before you get all judgmental and accuse my barbaric father of killing Bambi's mom, take a second and chill. My family owns the land and has been hunting on it for four generations; it's just a way of life in a simple, small town like Mason, where venison meat is big business and good money. Quality deer meat is hard to come by, and the jerky process takes about 8 days, from the killing of the deer to the completing of the dehydration process.

And unfortunately for my dad the jerky-maker, I have a liking for the stuff akin to lust, and I am already halfway through one of my 20-stick bags. Which means I've probably worn down the enamel on my teeth a dangerously significant amount. The meat has been stretched, marinated, cured, heavily peppered, then dehydrated in a small wooden hut for 4 days. It has the consistency of taffy that's been left out too long and therefore it takes a person's teeth a good two minutes of repetitive grinding motion to procure a single, orgasmic bite. It also leaves bits of stringy meat lodged in my molars akin to some ape-woman whose dark cave is littered with bones. But according to my armband calorie counter, that's coming out to burning about 13 calories per stick, so my net calorie balance in NEGATIVE. I mean, what else does that, celery? ::wretch:: Ha! No-guilt animal carcass! It's the Jerky Exercise Program!

See? WAY too excited.

T.O.W. Today's Intake List...so far

2009-01-06T11:16:00.000-08:00

::sigh::

Nothing like being accountable to an Internet full of strangers, plus a few people who know you but probably don't give a crap unless I'm talking about them. I'm a bit cranky. Thus, my food intake so far today:

- The chicken from one Chick-fil-a chicken sandwich (threw the biscuit away- a co-worker brought it in for me- she's skinny. Whore.)
- 2 dill pickles
- 18 unsalted peanuts (a.k.a flavorless sheep pellets)
- 3 egg whites
- 1 Diet Dr. Pepper

**One should note these WILL NOT count for my NaBloPoMo entries...I guess. :)

T.O.W. Teaser Tuesdays: 1/6/09

2009-01-06T06:41:00.000-08:00

Chandler: Did you ever read Flowers For Algernon?
Joey: Yeah...did you ever read Sports Illustrated? No, I didn't read yours.

Time for Teaser Tuesdays! The only bad thing about having four books going at once is it takes longer to get through any of them, and for Mrs. Impatience (yep, that's me) it's torture. The exception? Any Kay Scarpetta novel. I relish each one (probably because she takes at least a one year break between books, usually longer), and I read as slowly and methodically as possible, making the experience last as long as I can. I call it Tantric Suspense Reading (note to self: call the U.S. Patent Office). Anyway...

1. Grab your current read.
2. Let the book fall open to a random page.
3. Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
4. You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
5. Please avoid spoilers!

My teaser:

"'Jaime Berger's asking if you can get here,' Benton added. Hearing her name always unnerved Scarpetta, gave her a tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with the New York prosecutor personally. Berger would always be linked to a past that Scarpetta preferred to forget."
~ p. 16, "Scarpetta" by Patricia Cornwell

Seriously, if you like crime novels, suspense novels, you MUST read the Scarpetta series. Start with "Postmortem" and go from there. Happy reading to all!

T.O.W. I Find Solutions

2009-01-05T13:02:00.000-08:00

Monica: Now our drawers will smell nice and we didn’t waste these pantyhose.
Chandler: Yes, God forbid we throw out old underwear. You-you know what? I’m going to go over to Joey’s.
Monica: Wait, we’re supposed to organize the wrapping paper drawer.

That is one thing I've changed about myself in the past year. Perhaps it's the GTF's inventiveness rubbing off on me (or my increased prospensity to keep a drawerful of seemingly useless crap at my disposal), but I've gotten much more creative when it comes to solving little problems. Instead of just being made miserable (or distracted to the point of futility) by some little thing, I fix it. A little like that book '1oo Sneaky Uses For Everyday Things'. I mean, I'm not McGyver or anything. Nope, no bombs out of paperclips, tampons and white-out over here, but still. Maybe it's the ginkgo biloba.

ANyhoo, today was no exception.

I have an office (I think I might have mentioned that). Right now it's a little ghetto, with nothing on the walls but a giant dry-erase board stained with the ghosts of someone else's jibberish-- someone who chose to ignore the "erase" part of 'dry-erase board'. A crumpled section of snazzy silver mini-blinds leans in sad relief against another wall after crashing to the floor during the day (SIX WEEKS AGO), leaving co-workers wondering if the new recruiter had an anger management problem.

My desk itself is rather lively, with photographs and mugs and stuffed dachshunds and a day-by-day Gil Elvgren pinup calendar I have to hide behind my phone when the day's picture features of one of Elvgren's few topless portraits, lest I be accused of not setting a good example when it comes to sexual harassment (there are those, I fear, that would be offended by oil-painted nipples).

But back to the windows. One whole wall of my office is windows, which is fabulous except for days like today when the HIGH is 33 degrees and my next door neighbor is, I swear to god, part polar bear. So is everyone else in our corner of the office, because every single one of them complains of being hot constantly, so I lose out to the makority every time. He controls the thermostat for our corner of the building, and while he was out to lunch I snuck in there and saw it was set to 68 degrees! Jumpin' jesus fish.

Normally this wouldn't bother me. But with a whole wall of windows, both of which have crappy insulation and one of which is ghetto-rigged with no blinds, (and add to this that the vent in my office blows directly down onto my head in a way that would make a great windblown photo opp) it's colder than a witch's titty on the dark side of the moon in here. So much so that I have a scarf tied around my neck and a blanket over my lap.

This, however, doees nothing for my froze philanges. Perhaps it's because my circulation isn't the best, but my hands turn practically arthritic when they're cold. I can't hold onto anything reliably for any length of time, much less type. Today alone, I accidentally restarted my computer three times due to nothing but stiff-fingered inaccurate keystrokes.

"Wear, gloves, Babs. Duh."

Great idea, smart asses, but until my little stroke of creative genius today, that wasn't gonna happen. I have two pair of gloves in my purse: a very nice brown leather pair with cashmere trim and a black knit pair that are fingerless except the thumbs. They're those convertible kind that have a mitten-type attachment buttoned onto the back so you can fold it over your fingertips when needed, and voila! Mittens!

Those would have worked just fine, besides that fact that my thumbs (if you read carefully) are completely covered by the otherwise fingerless gloves. It's a a bulky knit material, too, a good quarter of a inch thick. I put them on, thinking I was brilliant, only to realize how much I depend onthumbstooperatethespacebar. Nevermind the bulkiness of the material cause me to add random c's, v's, b's, n's, and m's.

After accidentally restarting my computer for the third time, I gave up, ate lunch, and spotted my brand-spanking new pair of office shears. Hmmm...no, I thought. Sure, it would solve the immediate problem, but I'd be ruining a pair of cute, albeit nearly fingerless, gloves in the process. ::sigh::

Then I fervently start rummaging around in my useless crap drawer. What I find: a couple strips of cloth trimming tape (sidenote: you adhere any kind of trim or lace to the sticky side of the tape and then lay the other side against the edge of the material you want trim, iron with low heat, and the trim sticks. It's a great quick fix when you don't have time to pull out a needle and thread), scraps of satin ribbon from wrapping gifts for my co-workers, and a small electric hand steamer. No, seriously. Go ahead and laugh, but my mother raised me to fear wrinkled suit jackets and pants, and not long ago she bought me that steamer to keep in my office so I could "freshen up" my clothes at work. I'm not joking.

But really, can you honestly see me standing there, for all intents and purposes, ironing pantless in my mini-blindlless office with no lock on the door? No. But god bless her, she means well. And now, my frozen fingers numb and shivering, I was grateful for her gift.

So I set to work.

First, I plugged in my steamer and got the mini ironing board out from beside my desk. Stop laughing. Then I cut the thumb tips of my otherwise fingerless gloves with my shears. I slipped one on and measured around my thumb, then cut lengths of ribbon to match. I attached the ribbon to strips of the trimming tape and, using the steamer, attached the ribbon to the exposed edges of the thumb holes, sealing them from fraying, and hey, the ribbon does look nice.

Thumbless gloves! Thawing fingers! I can feel the spacebar again!

I don't know, I might give McGyver a run for his money. :)

T.O.W. Sheldon Takes the Road Less Traveled By!

2009-01-05T10:45:00.000-08:00

Talk about the perfect comic strip for me...and the Hubs.

The Hubs and I follow this comic strip regularly and have both met the artist, Dave Kellett, and had him do a rendering of us as a couple. I recently received the 300th of 300 special editions of his latest book.

And for this...wow. Thanks, Dave!

T.O.W. Beefcake

2009-01-04T11:18:00.000-08:00

Ahh, yes. That's Jensen Ackles. ::pause:: ::admire:: And we went to high school together. He was a sophomore when I was a senior at BHS, and we were both involved in theatre. He's a nice guy, or least he was. And so yeah, okay, he took the acting thing a little further than I did. After a long gig on Days of Our Lives, he landed an awesome WB (now the CW) series called Supernatural, currently in its very successful third season.

So check him uh, I mean, check it out. ;-D

T.O.W. Butts, Babies, and Being the Boss

2009-01-03T17:40:00.000-08:00

Rachel: Oh god what am I gonna do you guys, I can’t even comfort my own baby! I’m the worst mother ever!

Monica: You’re just new at this, it’ll get better, think about your first day at work. I mean, that couldn’t have been easy but you figured that out.

Rachel: Yeah, I don’t think dressing provocatively is going to help me here!

::sigh:: Well, so far I've kept up with NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month- see my sidebar) for three whole days. Suh-weet!

I know, doesn't take much to excite me, but being that I abandoned poor ol' Less Traveled By for nearly two years, three days in a row is practically a Saturnalia Miracle (if you don't watch Big Bang Theory, you probably didn't get that one).

This year will be one of transitions, of growth, of change (whadaya know, that's NaBloPoMo's theme for January!). And right now I'm having growing pains, hence the grouchy pants blog posts the past couple days. Well, that and PMS, which means I'm, again, NOT PREGNANT, DAMMIT!

I'm 32 and for the first time, I'm in a management role at work where I have the freedom (or responsibility for the pessimist) to create both recruiting and training programs for a company. Not to mention manage a staff (okay, one person at first, but still). Yep. Big change. And I'm SO excited to even have the opportunity, all because the HR Director happened to be someone with whome I went to elementary through high school. We were never good friends, but it provided the thinnest of thin threads on which I sucessfully navigated a tough tightrope of an interview and landed the job the same day.

Fast forward six months later. I've become one of people who takes their work laptop home and does ::gasp:: work! I come in with there's ice on the roads, I push right through my lunch breaks. I have to depend on others to get my work done, hence my frustration with Useless Friday January 2nd.

I've also made a big change in how I take care of myself. I felt like such a failure waiting in that line at Jack in the Box, angry at some woman who was probably god's way of telling me to not add a breakfast jack (or two) to my ass. For me, it's not because I want to look like a supermodel or afraid my husband won't find me attractive. I'll never be a supermodel (a size 12 is ideal, since much smaller, according to me doctor, would be unhealthy), and my sex life is a perfect example of how happy my husband is with the way I look. Plus I know I'm an attractive, albeit curvy, woman. I love wearing lingerie, I show off the good things and know how to hide the, well, not-so-good.

I just have to be careful. Right after college, I dropped a drastic 60 lbs. in four months because I was living by myself in Lubbock, hated my job, and spent 3 hours a day in my apartment complex gym. NOT good stuff.

So I've made it a point to find realistic role models to look up to when it comes to my figure, like Sara Ramirez who plays the smokin' hot Callie on Grey's. I've never done that before. CHANGE! I have a personal trainer at the Y who looks like me (big boobs? check. bubble butt? check. small waist? check.) and is leading me through an awesome weight training program (funny that my brother is the athlete and I'm the one who doesn't have to take a daily dose of Muscle Milk). CHANGE! I have very specific fitness goals (i.e., 'I want to be able to see my collarbone', and 'I want to fit into my GAP jeans from college'), and I have a mantra I repeat every time I want to eat somethig I shouldn't. CHANGE! And yes, a positive one, not 'Don't eat that, big fat fatty!'

But the biggest change has to be the fact that I want to be parent, a mommy, have a family. It's come as quite a shock to me, even though my very best girlfriends (we've known each other since kindergarten) each have one kid and are both working on a second. I always knew I'd be late getting on the baby train, though you wouldn't have been able to tell from my extended childhood obsesson with Cabbage Patch Kids. But my relationship with my ex-husband broke me in alot of ways, and one thing I knew is I did not want a family with him.

And suddenly, without any warning, the GTF flipped my well-hidden baby switch. Now I'm signed up for every pregnancy website there is- What To Expect, The Bump, The Endless Fertility Tracking Website For OCD Women In Their Thirties (okay, I made up that last one); I'm stocked up pregnancy tests and ovulation sticks, and I know my most fertile days for the next 12 months. I tell ya, nothing makes you schedule sex like trying to get pregnant. "Okay honey, my temp is 99 and the ovulation cramps just started. Pants off!" Okay, no, I don't do that. We have enough sex that I'm actually surprised I didn't get pregnant earlier (I know, TMI). but now it's all about trying without trying.

::sigh::

Changes. Good ones. Scary ones. And it doesn't seem to leave much room for being in the spotlight; the theatre spotlight, that is. I just started my professional career and now I feel like it's halted just as quickly. I'd love to go home to Little D for a show or two (and to defend myself), but the timing just isn't right. Meaning I'd like to know I'm pregnant first so I can plan what shows to be in and when and not have the stress of a show keep me from the getting pregnant or vice versa. Frustrating. But I know the solution will present itself in its own time.

Until then, here's to babies, butts, and being the boss!

T.O.W. Duct Tape and Breakfast Jacks

2009-01-03T14:12:00.000-08:00

Sally: I'd like the chef salad, please, with the oil and vinegar on the side and the apple pie a la mode. But I'd like the pie heated. And I don't want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side. And I'd like strawbery instead of vanilla if you have it, but if not then no ice cream just whipped cream, but only if it's real. If it's out of a can then nothing.

I don't eat fast food anymore. Hardly ever. Okay, not every week. Since I looked up and saw the discount ad, found the YMCA and became a born again weight lifter, I've gone easy on the fast food. Mainly because it makes me gain weight in a way that's frightening; it would be quicker (and eliminate the element of nasty surprise) if I carried around a roll of duct tape and attach the cheeseburger directly to my ass.

It's depressing.

And when I'm depressed, I want - guess what? - fast food. Then after the fast food (and duct-taping), it's back to depression and punishing myself in manner of The DiVinci Code villian. It's a vicious cycle, really.

In all honesty, I've gotten past that, but there are days, i.e. the uselessness of January 2nd, where nothing fits the bill like something greasy and ass-widening that I'll only regret later. For this, I turn to Jack In The Box, Home of the Breakfast Jack, the best breakfast (or lunch, or dinner) sandwich EVER. Ham, cheese, and a fried egg on a hamburger bun. I've tried to recreate the magic at home with little luck. It's like McDonald's fries; I'm convinced the recipe includes at least one good ounce of crack.

What I'm trying to say is that when I on rare occasion crave fast food, I'm very specific in that craving. I know exactly what I want, and nothing, not even a ginormous menu like JitB's can't sway me with its .99 tacos, chicken fajita pita, or ultimate cheeseburger.

Wow, my mouth just filled with saliva.

Anyhow, I'm both excited and salivating (and starving) by the time I reach the drive-thru line. There's only one person ahead of me, good sign. I should mention that the older I get, the less patience I have. Yes, I am my father's daughter.

The set-up at JitB is like this: you pull into the drive-thru and instantly, there is a huge, well-lit and easy-to-read menu complete with prices. This is the Decide What You Want menu. Then a few feet ahead of that is another full menu with a speaker and digital screen where you order your food; this is the Verify Your Order Menu, or what I like to the call the Procrastinator Moron Menu.

When I pulled up, the car in front of me had already pulled to the Procrastinator Moron Menu , having had the chance to peruse fully. The woman in the car is that kind of suburban snob that reminds me of my ex-mother-in-law. Dressed in a shiny nylon track suit, she's wearing humongous sunglasses, gold rings and chains, and has frosted hair and a set of nails with which I don't see how she gets anything done except sit around the house eating bon-bons and, well, Jack In The Box, apparently. But one look at her and I figured she was one of those women who go to fast food restaurants and order a salad. Dry.

I was wrong. Now she's sitting in her Jaguar in front of the order speaker, talking on her cell phone and studying Procrastinator Moron Menu like it's a display counter at Tiffany's.

Yep. Welcome to Babs' Pet Peeve #37: People Who Take Too Long To Order In Fast Food Lines.
It's well-known etiquette that once you've pulled up to that second menu with the order speaker, you should have a good idea about what you (and what everyone else in the car or on your cell phone) want. That second menu should be a double-check and nothing more. It is NOT a "oh, let's see, let me completely change what I want or add enough side orders of eggrolls or milkshakes or chicken nuggets to feed my army of rugrats crawling all over the backseat.

After waiting for a full five minutes, I slowly starting inching up my car to her back bumper, hoping to subtly exhibit my impatience (you never know who has a gun these days) and roll down my window so I can evesdrop and figure out what's taking so long, as if this will speed things up.

Not only is she having a completely unrelated conversation on her cell phone, she's asking completely inane questions like "What kind of cheese is on the burger?"" and "How many fries come in the medium size order?" and "Can I have the small strawberry milkshake in a large cup?" You think I'm kidding.

It's fast food, people, not a 4-course steak dinner at Nick & Sam's! This is not the time to be picky! Jesus Tap-dancing Christ!

I beat my head against the steering wheel, trying not to honk the horn in the process. All. I. want is my two breakfast jacks, and here I am behind suburban Mr. T, trying to supress my growing impatience and unresolved anger toward my ex-mother-in-law. By this time, there are two cars behind me, so I'm unable to pull out of the line, park and go inside to order like I should done in the first place. Yep, I'm trapped.

By this time, it's been ten minutes. I'm sure it had something to do with it being such a useless day at work, and I start grumbling to myself that if I hadn't had to be at stupid work, I wouldn't have to get fast food for lunch and I wouldn't be stuck behind the this Mr. T bitch who probably wants her hamburger made with tofu and her strawberry shake poured over her fries.

If you want to take that long to order and be that picky, there are plenty of places to go in Dallas. Find some hoity-toity- five star bistro where your meal takes up a mere three square inches of your plate and it topped with some kind of grape and onion glaze and the chef uses the vast amount of left over plate space to practice abstract painting with the dualing horseradish sauces. But don't go to Jack in the Box and get in front of the PMSing working woman who wants her breakfast jacks.

After a full seventeen- yes, seventeen- minutes, the cars behind ME have started to honk and I finally pull up to order my food. After apologizing for "the delay" (an insanely understated remark, considering), I ordered. "Two breakfast jacks and a small Diet Coke, please."

And I hear this back:

"A small Diet Coke, and two tacos. Please pull forward."
"No, I said-"
"Please pull forward."

::bangs head on steering wheel::

I'm going to McDonald's.

T.O.W. The Uselessness

2009-01-02T08:30:00.000-08:00

Yes, this is Babs here, reporting live from the second most useless workday of the year: The Friday After New Year's Day! Inconveniently sandwiched between a two-day holiday and a weekend, it's nothing if not an exercise in annoying futility, ladies and gentlemen, and you're seeing it LIVE, right here at Less Traveled By!

Second only to the disastrous uselessness (how could we forget?) of Friday December 26th, it leaves us wondering "Why, corporate America workoholics, why?"

And let me tell ya, Generic Annoying News Anchor With The Bad Toupe Pretending He's Not Wearing Lip Gloss, sourcing for a part time receptionist doth not a full day of work make.

Yet, here I am, uh sorry, here we are, pretending to work while we skip ahead to next December in our Outlook calendar-- and what to our wandering eyes should appear? Christmas day on a- -could it be true? -- Friday next year!

Hallelujah, Generic Annoying News Anchor With The Bad Toupe Pretending He's Not Wearing Lip Gloss, Hallelujah, that's what I say! My work here is done.

"And now," to quote the incomparable Bridget Jones, "back to the studio!"

T.O.W. The Cuteness

2009-01-01T18:45:00.001-08:00

Yep, I'm sitting at home playing with this dog. A big, furry ball of dacahshund preciousness. My sweet Chucki Sue (a.ka. Chew Sue, Chunky, Chooker, Chooka Sooka, Chunky Poop).

Show some love! :-D

T.O.W. We Go Out

2008-12-31T12:32:00.000-08:00

Ross: I'm going to be happy this year. I am going to make myself happy.
Chandler: Do you want us to leave the room, or...?

New Year's Eve. 2008. 2008! I can't...wow. I've been divorced for over 4 years, newly married for nearly 4 weeks, and this will be our fourth New Year's Eve at Soho Food and Jazz.

A cozy jazz bistro in Addison that sounds a bit pretentious because, well, it is a little bit. Any restaurant that stacks its food in towers akin to prime condo real estate has be a little pretentious (David Sedaris was right about that one).

But hot damn if it isn't a the perfect combination of 'hip happenin party scene' and 'intimate dinner for two'. It will be an evening full of tapas, original drinks (new every week) from the bartender and the best beef carpaccio, crab fritters, and fried cheesecake in Big D. And we're not talking about three quarter-size medallions of beef with a squiggle of sauce on a 14-inch plate. No sir.

The music is usually a jazz trio with a damn good singer (an interesting mix of Michael Buble and Sammy Davis, Jr.); it's the kind of music that apparently makes couples stand up and dance by their tables, women holding their martinis behind their men's necks as they sway.

Sometimes we stay and ring in the new year with Dick Clark playing on the flat screen over the bar, wearing funny hats and spraying silly string on annoyiny drunk people; other times we make our way home early to ring it in with champagne. In bed. Yeah.

Anyway.

Not sure what we'll do tonight, but I do know it will another evening for the books. Soho Year Four!

T.O.W. Happy New Year HNT 12/31/08 - "Shelfed"

2008-12-30T20:14:00.000-08:00

Monica: An entire weekend? That's a whole lotta naked!

So, as I made my prodigal return (pfft, right) to the blogosphere amidst a whole new host of writers and blogging gadgets ("Where does he get those wonderful toys?"), I remembered it just wouldn't be complete without a return to my beloved HNT.

::hangs head in shame::

It's been waaay over a year since I've posted an HNT (suh-lackuh!!!!!), so instead of choosing my favorite from this year's (non-existent) shots, I picked one of my favorite self-portraits (yep, I did snap it myself- "I'm very bendy.") from the past year.

Enjoy, and join in here!

T.O.W. TMI Tuesdays- Happy New Year!

2008-12-30T16:42:00.000-08:00

Ross: I'll bet you fifty bucks you can't go a whole year-- no no, better yet-- a week, without making fun of us.
Chandler: I'll take that bet, my friend. And giving me the fifty bucks can be the "new thing ya do that day." And it starts right now.

TMI Tuesday #167 - I'm joining back up for TMI Tuesdays (wow, it's been a while...well, really for ANY of these daily memes. Gosh, how WILL I have time for actual work, hmm?) Thanks, Osbasso, for having that button on your sidebar! :) No better place to pick back up than the New Year, eh?

Q: Last week was "The Most Wonderful time of the Year", but what are your favorite 2008 memories?
A: This one's easy. Going to NYC for the first time, where I covertly recorded an entire musical number during Mary Poppins on Broadway. Getting engaged. Getting married. Doing my first professional equity show. Getting 2 more dachshunds added to the herd. Yep, I'm crazy.

Q: What is the best thing you learned in 2008?
A: Quality is, in fact, better than quantity when it comes to friends.

Q: On a scale of 1-10, how good was your 2008?
A: I'm gonna have to say about a 7.5, Chuck. PRetty great but with some room for improvement (read: 1 new car, 1 baby, 1 more fit figure, and 0 debt)

Q: What is your wish for 2009? What is your wish for someone else for 2009?
A: Um, did you READ my last answer? ;) For me, it is the combination of getting healthy in order to have a healthy pregnancy and start to motherhood. For someone else, I'm gonna say deciding who their friends really are.

Q: Where was the first place you ever passionately kissed?
A: We'll go with my first passionate kiss with the Hubs, yes? Wish I could say something more original, but it was in a car. Yeah. Hey, it had leather interior! The car, not the kiss. Or...my mouth. Anyway. Yeah. Next.

Bonus (as in optional):Do you make New Year's resolutions? What is/are your's for 2009?
A: I used to, but not so much anymore-- not officially, as in I don't print it up on a little card and laminate it then stick it in my wallet. It's just a setup for disappointment.

T.O.W. I "Talk Pretty" and Will Be Listening Intently!

2008-12-30T15:15:00.000-08:00

Aw. YEAH.

I shall dress in corduroy and denim and listen intently indeed. Even if it's from the very backest of back rows.

There are few things that make me giddy as a 32-year-old married actress trying to take care of five dogs and get pregnant (oh and not lose her mind)-- and this is one of them.

One of all-time favorite authors, David Sedaris, is coming to Dallas to speak at my Alma Mater. I first heard him several years ago reading from his many collections of satirically anecdotal gems during This American Life on NPR (get the podcast on your iPod, people, it's great, and I get some terrific book suggestion there). I subsequently read everything I can get my hands on when it comes to Mr. Sedaris. So yeah. ::squee: I'm SO freakin' excited!

Tickets here, if there are any left.

Suh-WEET!

-Babs

T.O.W. Teaser Tuesdays 12/30/2008

2008-12-29T23:59:00.000-08:00

Chandler: Sorry, I just…can’t sleep. Ooh! Where's that book that you're reading with the two women who were ice-skating and wearing those hats with the flowers on it? Because every time I look at that cover I’m like… ::fake snores::
Monica: It's in the living room where there's also a light. And no one will kick you in the shin.

Time for Teaser Tuesdays! (I know, a little early, but I'm exhausted and depressed that my pregnancy test was negative, and I'm sleeping in tomorrow. Cheers!)

1. Grab your current read.
2. Let the book fall open to a random page.
3. Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
4. You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
5. Please avoid spoilers!

My teaser:

"Yellow taxis sped by, most of their lighted rooftop signs advertising banks and finance and loan companies, typical after Christmas, when people face the consequences of their holiday cheer. A bus boasted a banner ad for Gotham Gotcha, and anger touched Scarpetta like the tip of a spear."
~ p. 245, "Scarpetta" by Patricia Cornwell

T.O.W. The Pink "Dachshund"

2008-12-29T13:22:00.000-08:00

Is that not the Cutest. Thing. Ever??

I mean seriously.

More Pink Dachshund pics right here.

T.O.W. I'm Carded

2008-12-29T10:17:00.000-08:00

Ross: You got me a…Cola drink?
Chandler: And…a Lemon Lime!
Ross: Wow, this is too much. I feel like I should get you another sweater.

So I don’t feel quite as jipped as poor Ross. Ok, I feel quite the opposite, if I’m honest. ::squee:: My family has always been rather generous with each other at Christmastime. Especially since my parents no longer have a mortgage and continue to see my brother and I are “the children”. Christmas morning almost always brings an onslaught of gifts from my list (plus a couple of clever, well-thought-out surprises), not to mention a generous (read: $250-$500) check from Neema (my mom’s mom, rather well-off from a lucky lotto winning and several smart investments made by my late grandfather).

This year was no different. Well ok, a little. Sure there was the usual variety of DVDs, books (I need to fulfill my goal of reading at least 50 new books this year) and kitchen gadgets (how I adore Crate & Barrel and Container Store.

But I must say this was, above all else, a Hard Plastic Christmas (I know, horrible Best Little Whorehouse pun).

::bows:: God bless the gift card. ::rises::

I mean seriously, I could plaster myself in manner of the cover of the Office Space DVD with gift cards. Not that I didn’t ask for them. I did. You should see my FindGift list. I have a whole section for gift cards (sidenote: Great little tool, FindGift. Handy way to keep track of what you want throughout the year, so when family and friends ask for a list for your birthday or Christmas, you’re not scrambling together a list of things you wouldn’t HATE to get at the last minute and end up with yet another calendar and a funny hat).Even Neema went rogue this year and instead of the usual check, asked for a list of stores we’d like to shop at. I should have just bought one of those tacky gift card trees and set it up on my parents’ coffee table Christmas morning. ‘Yep, just stick your gift in there. K, thanks!’

So alongside my wallet, in a charming silver tin, are gift cards for the following:

- Visa gift card (for anything, anywhere)
- Simon Mall
- Origins
- JC Penney
- DSW ::chorus of angels::
- Bed Bath & Beyond
- Red Lobster (stop laughing, I am clinically addicted to lobster fondue and snow crab. It’s a sickness.)
- Walmart
- Blue Mesa Grill

The Hubs didn’t make off too shabbily either and can shop at Best Buy and Game Stop till his heart’s content (well, not that much, but close).

I know, Christmas is sharing and caring and all that stuff. But when money’s tight, it’s nice to do some guilt-free spending with money you are physically unable to use on bills or car repair.

Again soon,
Babs

T.O.W. I Wish I Could Get Paid to Watch Harry Potter Movies and Drink Diet Dr. Pepper

2008-12-26T08:30:00.000-08:00

(Yep, with days like today, I'd be a millionaire.)

Chandler: My work's exciting, too. On Friday I don't have to wear a tie.

'Twas the day after Christmas
And all through a office,
Not a person was working
Because they're SO PISSED OFF THAT THEY'RE EVEN HERE THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS, DAMMIT!

I got tired of trying to wittilly (did I make that up?) rhyme something with office, so I went for a weak attempt at post-Christmas-blues humor.

::thumbs down while blowing raspberry::

Yep, I'm sitting in my office at 10:30 in the morning while the Hubs is out spending his nearly-a-paycheck's-worth of gift cards. Suckage. This is what happens when you're the least senior member of your department and your boss calls you at home on Christmas night to tell you you need to come in after all. You end up watching movies on your computer while you nosh on leftover turkey and Mom's Christmas ambrosia. I am getting PAID to do this, and it beats an endless stream of people in and out of my office (Did I tell you I had an office? Nope, not in the last 5 minutes, Babs.).

Still though.

I'd rather be shopping. Or seeing movies. Or having sex....yeah...::ahem:: Anyway...

I did a Put Your Feet Up Friday on Tuesday because, well, Tuesday was supposed to be my personal Friday. ::snort::

So here it is: Put Your Feet Up Friday 12/23/08

I do have a couple of rather nice holiday anecdotes to share, but my head is still full of two day's worth of Christmas food orgy. So ta-ta until, well, soon. :)

- Babs

p.s., I must have watched White Christmas one too many times, because I have the song 'Sisters' (peformed by Virginia Dale and Rosemary Clooney) hopelessly stuck in my head. So if anyone has a cure for that...yeah...thanks.

T.O.W. Teaser Tuesdays

2008-12-23T12:45:00.001-08:00

Yep, fine, so above I said it was "my" Friday (yeah, listen, people!). But since today is actually Tuesday, I'm doing a two-fer. So there! :)

Hence...

My teaser:

"On a sun-beaten dirt road that twisted through what used to be a forest outside Koidu, a fifteen-year-old boy was slowly choking to death. Slowly, because that's exactly how the Tiger wanted it to happen."

~ p. 147, "Cross Country" by James Patterson

T.O.W. Put Your Feet up "Friday"

2008-12-23T12:35:00.000-08:00

Chandler: Did your dad ever dress up as Santa?
Monica: No.
Chandler: Then it's okay!

Okay, so it's MY Friday anyway. Last day of the week until I'm off for Christmas. Even though the company bonus didn't come in as robustly as I would have liked, I'm jolly all the same.

Today's adventure: Homemade Chocolate Peanut Butter Truffles! Oh. my. god.

Meanwhile, just lounging in the sheepskin slippers (no, not just the slippers, you naughty people), sipping cocoa and watching 'The Santa Clause'.

T.O.W. Christmas is...Plates

2008-12-22T11:52:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: We thought we'd use the fancy plates for dessert, too.

Monica: Oh, that's great. Maybe afterwards, we can all go blow our noses on my wedding dress.

Talk about getting into the Christmas spirit late. My 'It's Christmas now!" button must be broken.

Sheesh.

Honestly.

Even with:

- the traditional decorating-of-the-parent's-tree last week;
- baking my traditional Italian Christmas cookies;
- shopping (albeit online);
- Ritz Cracker chicken dinner and the traditional holiday poker game Saturday night at my grandma's;
- Endlessly-ongoing Christmas music on PLatinum 96.7, 103.7, and my iPod;

YESTERDAY was the first day I finally feel like the holidays are here. As I puttered around in my sheepskin slippers and my wiener dog pajamas, it finally decided to hit me. Yep. Just in time to Swiffer the floor with three dachshunds watching the swooshing back-and-forth of the cleaning cloth with determined concentration.

The Hubs and I looked up recipes (Slovak desserts, Martha's Mashed, my grandma's stewed fruit to name a few), decorated the house, watched movies (Christmas Vacation, White Christmas, Elf, Deck the Halls, in case you're wondering), and then I decided to go ahead and set the Christmas table.

Yes.

My Spode.

::pause for moment of reverance::

Come to think of it, maybe that's what did it. It's not really Christmas till the Spode comes out. Yes, I'm some bizzare blend of 1950s housewife and Monica Gellar ("Or we could save them for a really special occasion, like if the Queen of England comes over") with my Christmas Spode plates.

You've probably seen them. Cream plates with a green border and a decked-out-if-old-fashioned Christmas tree in the middle. A couple other companies have tried to do imitations, but I have the original Spode, and it is my favorite Christmas decoration. A friend of my mom's had them when I was a little girl, and ever since then I vowed to have my own set.

So fast forward about 20 years...in lieu of registering for the traditional, we'll-never-use-it wedding china the first time around, I started collecting my own Christmas Spode. Mainly from my mom (and for a short time, my ex-mother-in-law). Over the past 8 years, I've built up my collection to 12 full place settings, complete with two different kinds of glasses, serving dishes and utensils, trivets, coasters, teacups, , candlesticks, vases, even napkins. All CAREFULLY brought out for Christmas meals and then packed up CAREFULLY again with love, ready for next year. (Ok, so I'm a plate Nazi; they're expensive, ok?)

For some reason, seeing that little tree on each piece of Spode was what finally pushed my rusty, old Christmas button. I spent a good hour ironing the tablecloth and setting the table for four (me, Hubs, and the Hubs' parents). for Christmas Eve. On Christmas day, I'll take them over to my parents' house for the Christmas Day evening meal as well.

So yeah. For some people it's music, for others the lights, or the shopping. For me, it's plates.

Tra-la! It's Christmastime!

T.O.W. I Steal A Meme and Do No Work

2008-12-22T07:16:00.000-08:00

So, it's three days before Christmas (and two before I have the Hub's parents over for the baking of Slovak nut bread and crullers and what promises to be a delicious Christmas Eve meal.

Yes, I said Slovak nut bread. It's good. Trust me.

ANYhoo, three days before Christmas and I'm at work, waiting for my bonus to hit my bank account (God-willing) and doing, well, this. This one of those times I miss college. Not for its complete embrace of freedom coupled with complete lack of responsibility, but for its nearly-month-long Christmas break.

But that's okay, because Peace of My Mind did this little Sunday Stealing survey yesterday, and even though it's Monday, I'm doing it anyway.

Sunday Stealing: The Screaming Masses’ Meme

1. What is a nickname a former (or present) lover gave you? The Minxen.

2. How do you style your hair? I have a very thick, coarse head of nearly-black hair that's naturally, well I guess you would call it wavy. I use a root booster and and curl enhancer along with a diffuser.

3. What’s your least favorite Christmas song? Christmas Shoes. Not a fan of the emotionally-manipulative holiday song.

4. How many colors are you wearing now? Just 2 - cream and black.

5. Are you an introvert or extrovert? Usually extrovert, but there are exceptions.

6. What was the last book you read? Cross Country, by James Patterson. Eh.

7. What’s one piece of fiction that changed your life? Bag of Bones, Stephen King. Made me truly want to write.

8. If you are attracted to someone who is already in a relationship (or married), what might do you do? This one is just asking for trouble.

9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy recently? Yes, but it's over and there's no use in revisiting it. It's Christmas, dammit! :)

10. What’s your favorite dessert? SoHo Cafe & Jazz in Addison has the BEST frie cheesecake with boysenberry sauce.

11. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? I'm pretty low-maintenance. About 30 minutes unless I have to wash my hair.

12. Name one website that you visit daily. Believe it or not, NOT Facebook. Sometimes every day is a bit much. NPR.

13. What was your last job (either you were at home or at another job)? I think I understand this..before my current position, I was a recruiter for the casual dining industry.

14. Do you like to clean? Sometimes I find quite a bit of relaxation and accomplishment in it (i.e., Swiffering the floor last night with dachshunds chasing behind me). Sometimes it's just a beating. Dusting is always a beating.

15. What was the last song to get stuck in your head? 'Sisters', from White Christmas. We watched it yesterday and every time we do, it's that song. "Lord help the mister..."

16. What’s the last movie you saw? In a theater? Last movie all around was, well, see #15. Last movie in the theater was Bolt. Very funny, the hamster stole the show.

17. Pirates or Ninjas? Pirates!!!! Yay!!!!

18. What is your least favorite thing to do that you have to do everyday? Clean up puppy poop.

19. Best time of your life? Wow, that's a tough one. There have been so many since I've been with the Hubs. Our trip to NY when he proposed was pretty great.

20. What are you most looking forward to in the coming year? Taking at least one vacation an hopefully getting pregnant.

It's Friday: Put Your Feet Up!

2008-12-19T14:43:00.001-08:00

So, I can't get enough of Leesa at Peace of My Mind since I started blogging here at Less Traveled By back in '04. Dynamite photographer, and she's done Put Your Feet Up Friday quite a few times. Visit the Flicker group here.

Basically, take a shot of your shoes each week (Friday if you can) and post it in your little corner of the blogosphere every-- yep you guessed it-- Friday.

Today I'm going to start. My first Put Your Feet Up Friday, or PYFUF. SO okay, this shot was taken on vacation, where I'd RATHER be right now but hey it works. :)

Cheers, PYFUF, and Happy Weekend! :-D

T.O.W. The Unavoidable Pettiness

2008-12-18T11:26:00.001-08:00

Monica: What was that?
Chandler: That was probably the sound of Ross going into my brain and stealing my thoughts.

Warning: The following might sound petty. Like I'm letting things get to me that shouldn't. Considering I've made it a personal goal to NOT let things bother me (and been rather successful), I'm having a moment of weakness. Of course, I think alot of pet peeves are irrational moments of weakness, like the strong desire to slap people who slurp soup. So chalk it up to being my biggest pet peeve, if that'll make it go down easier.

Right now, I am taking solace in the workings behind Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point. I mean I really am. because otherwise I feel ready to scratch my eyes out and stop sharing ANYTHING in ANY public forum AT ALL. I can't even share where I got my wedding jewelry. Confused?Here's how it goes: I have interests, okay, things that I am pasionate about that have been a part of who I am for a long time (pinup art, jazz, 1950s retro, to name a few). I've always been good at finding things (websites especially) that cater to one niche or another. I'm loyal to my interests, to things that enrich my life; I've never been much of a bandwagoner. What then happens is someone who previously found some of my interests to be (a) offensive (pinups) or perhaps (b) illegitimate talent (Michael Buble)-- decides they like these things too. Great, wonderful, glad I could help.

HOWEVER, they then take it to the next step and make a big deal of "discovering" said wonderful things and getting credit from their friends for making said discovery AND therefore being trendy and hip and forward-thinking.

See. Sounds petty. Like the big sister who hates it when the little sister follows her around in blind adoration, mimicking her every move. "But I don't WANT her to like Strawberry Shortcake! Tell her to like something else!" Having a younger brother, I never deal with this issue. I mean, if he had liked Strawberry Shortcake that would've been a whole new set of problems. But I digress.

It's not that I give a sh*t if people like what I like or not. Nor do I think I should be given credit (or even want to be) for the cool stuff I find, whether it be a cool website, a great book or author, a new trend. I didn't create the website, invent the product, write the book, etc. And I know, I know, it's still in that imitation-is-the-highest-form-of-flattery category and I should take it as a compliment. Instead it comes across like a very mild yet very annoying form of stealing; not to mention I can't stand bandwagoners, those poeple who support the team only when the team is winning. What really sticks in my craw is how it seems to happen with someone I DON'T get along with and therefore would think they wouldn't take the time to read my little corner of the web or give a crap what I like.

So I take a bit of smug comfort in Mr. Gladwell's book and enjoy being on the ahead-of-the-curve side of things, since it so rarely happens. Which is really, in my case, blind damn luck more than anything. Examples worthy of mention? The retro revolution; the return of pinup art; the wonder that is Etsy**.

I have to throw The Hubs some credit though; he hits that Tipping Point more than anyone I know; it's frightening (case in point: the Tiki fad). In fact, if anyone knows of a job that would make good use of his ability to predict what will be a hit/fad/sensation/make alot of money, let me know.

So yeah, call me petty, call me, well, whatever you want. But there you go. Moment of weakness over.

In other news, the new Mupper special was awesome and it's 6 days till Christmas. SQUEE! :-D

- Babs

**Etsy, BTW, refers to kind of a vintage/handmade version of eBay, for lack of a better comparison. I started shopping there a couple years ago for handmade pinup-themed jewelry and, funnily enough, a trace pattern of the tattoo I'm planning to get. Over the past six months, after deciding on a vintage bridal look, I purchase vintage lace for my wedding gown, a netted blusher veil, plus my wedding jewelry, garter, and shoes. I swear, nothing I wore was less than 40 years old, which some people might find creepy or gross but I find tres cool.

T.O.W. UGH!!!!!!

2008-12-17T14:09:00.000-08:00

Phoebe: I even tried to write a song about it, but I can't think of anything that rhymes with "Uuuuugghhhhh"!!

UGH #1: It's only Wednesday.

UGH #2: I have the most horrific tension/lack-of-caffeine headache, which really doesn't fit in with my go-home-and-have-hot-sex-with-the-Hubs plan. Seriously, I'm alternatingly taking swigs of fully-leaded Dr Pepper and gnawing on my fist right now.

UGH #3: I get paid tomorrow (But wait that's good Babs. I'm not finished!!) and most of it will go toward billsl and a very slim Christmas. This is what happens when you get married exactly 3 weeks before Santa's big day.

UGH #4: It's still only Wednesday.

UGH #5: I'm dreading dropping off my company's donations to the SPCA because I will have to see and hear all the sweet homeless dogs that I cannot adopt and take home.

I promise my next post will be a lot more upbeat.

Babs

T.O.W. A Hodge-Podge (sp?)

2008-12-15T10:26:00.001-08:00

Clark: "It's a bit nipply out. I mean nippy out. What did I say, nipple? Ah, there is a nip in the air, though."

You'd think I'd just use my thesaurus (Joey: "Thee-soarus!") tool in good ol' MS Word and find a better term for "hodge podge" but my fingers are getting close to frozen so I want to get in as much of this blog before I lose mobility all tog...eth...e...r. ::cracks knuckles:: ::blows on hands in manner of Bob Cratchitt::

Theeere, we go. I am the recruiting and training manager for a software company now (about damn time), a title which apparently earned me an office. A corner office. Yeah. Be jealous. However ("that's just a fancy 'but'!"), the guy in the office next to mine (guy = Guy Smiley VP of Sales) controls the thermostat for our side of the office, and apparently any room temperature above 65 degrees makes him drip stanky sweat all over his expensive leather desk blotter.

Unfortunately, today Guy Smiley decided the very tiny little bit of ice on the road was reason enough to stay home and "work". Ugh. Dallas drivers are p*ssies about ice. This is the GTF's opinion (he's from New York and lived in Colorado), and I'm adopting it. That and maybe I've grown up a little and don't look for ANY excuse to not come to work (plus I'm in HR and like to, well, am required to set a good example). Sure we took our time this morning. Left a little early, watched out for that mystical magical "black ice", and got in a few minutes late but seriously. C'mon Dallas drivers. Butch up! Fo' real. It's embarassing.

But bottom line, the office is still freezing. So I sit here, teeth chattering with blue fingernails (at least they match my eyes) trying to "work". :: wink wink:: At least I feel as if my writer's walk (yep, it's writer's walk not writer's block- read Bag of Bones, people. You'll get alot of my references) is finally ebbing away.

Hoorah!

I really didn't have a topic in mind today. Ok, that's a lie. I do have a topic. A rather amusing and racy (shocker!) one that involves men having talented tongues, not to put too fine a point on it. I'm afraid if i start writing said anecdote, I'd end up an unmanageable (albeit ragingly horny) puddle on the floor. So we'll save it for later.

So explains the hodge-podge.

First, is it wrong when your dogs make you horny? (Well yes, Babs, that's disgusting). I don't mean horny FOR my dogs. But right now 2 of our 3 dachshunds are in heat so every night is Lesbian Orgy In The Living Room at our house. And I just sit there and watch. Chucki Sue, our red puppy is in heat and decided the best way to deal with it is to mercilessly hump our adopted wirehair Heidi. Heidi, god bless her, is very laidback and a bit timid. Ok, she's a pushover. So everytime Chucki Sue comes up behind her and starts to dry hump with total abandon, Heidi just plops down her back feet and hangs her head in a somewhat pathetic act of resignation.

As if saying "Fine, just do your business and let me know when you're done. I'll be here. Waiting."

Poor thing. If that isn't bad enough, my other red, Sadie, sees this as an opportunity and shoves her cooch in Heidi's face, as if to say "Well, since you're just sitting there, lick this thing, will ya?"

Yep. Poor Heidi's being tag-teamed while her mom and dad sit there trying to watch 'Big Bang Theory' and not be distracted (and we'll admit it, aroused and encouraged to do a little humping of our own) by the blatant display of what can only be descibed as p*rn. Wiener dog p*rn, but p*rn all the same. Nevermind that our lone male dog, Sam, is pouting but observant over in the corner, getting a complex and wishing he could jerk one off.

::sigh:: The joys of pet ownership.

ANYhoo, so I was ecstatic to see, after 10 years, The Muppets finally have another TV Christmas special coming out! Woohoo! Their versionn of A Christmas Carol is one of my faves, so I was thrilled to see this! Wednesday (that's tomorrow) at 8 pm on NBC.

Moving on to my one of favorite authors (definitely my top pick for crime novels), Patricia Cornwell, who is putting out her latest Kay Scarpetta novel, called, and here's a big SHOCK, Scarpetta. Kidding aside, I will admit it sounded ominous, as if this would be the last. Cornwell assures it's not (thank GOD) but instead that she's celebrating her 20th year writing the character. Now if only she'd go back to writing in first person from Scarpetta's perspective. It makes the book a more intimate emotional reading experience, as least for me.

In other news that makes me happy, it looks like the Oscars are going HUNK for a host this year. Yep, ladies, it's Hugh Jackman. ::drool:: This will mark the first time a big box office draw like Jackman has hosted the show, typically reserved for established comedians and the like. Read more here. Rock it, Hugh! Oh, and turn around for me. Yep, turn a little more...little bit more...ah, there it is! ;)

And in the IMHO section, I can safely say How I Met Your Mother is the best comedy on television. It's being hailed as the new 'Friends' (I don't like it quite THAT much yet), and I truly hope it's around for a while. Nevermind it features that Dr. Horrible (see sidebar) genius Neil Patrick Harris but also the comic genius of people like Allison Hannigan. And last night, a friend of mine made a very short apperance as a Dallas native getting unceremoniously kicked out of a Minnesota-themed bar in NYC. Yay, J.P.!

Well, the elephant in the room that I haven't talked about, my WEDDING, is forthcoming. There are just so many stories and I so little free time that I'm afraid it will come out in little spurts (that sounded a bit randy). Ah well.

Till then...

Babs

T.O.W. I Am Thankful...and Stuff(ed)

2008-12-01T12:55:00.000-08:00

Well, I didn't manage to get in my sentimental-yet-just-humorous-enough post about being carted off after Thanksgiving dinner in a wheelbarrow right after my divorce(confused? see

here

).

Thanksgiving was, in fact, a blur in the race toward getting married (in 3 days from now- eekity-eek!) It was a blur of too much food (as is tradition at Ranch Branch) and too little sleep (chalk it up to both figurative and literal nerves, a.k.a. wedding jitters and a pinched nerve in my shoulder). This was particularly frustrating since R.B. is usually a place where I sleep like in manner of coma. But it was still nice to see family that I see once, maybe twice, a year. My grandparents (still moping horribly after the death of my uncle, I know I sound harsh but there's a reason); my cousins (sans dead uncle's daughter) whom I love dearly and to whom I am (as the oldest) the proverbial mother hen; as well as aunts, uncles and the like.

It didn't feel like other Thanksgivings, if I'm honest. I mean, all the necessary ingredients were there (Grandma's stuffing, Grandpa's turkey, the pecan pie, the people, football and naptime), but it's like they were added in the wrong order. To use another metaphor, 'the lights were on but nobody was home'. Everyone was going thru the motions, smiling with their mouth and not their eyes, like that creepy martian town mentality on the TR-90 in Bag of Bones (I know, another reference).

For example, the "kids'" table, usually a bustling epicenter of excited chatter and the back-and-forth banter of inside jokes, was startlingly quiet. I can't come up for any explanation for this, other than all us cousins (with the exception of 2 kiddies ages 10 and 8) are grown up with grown-up problems and too much on their mind to engage in mindless banter.

Possibilities?

1. Well, the GTF is fairly new, but this is his 2nd Thanksgiving at the ranch and he's met all my family on multiple occasions and we're getting married in 3 days, for crap's sake. Thought that itself could be it; we kept it small and quiet (which is only tasteful for the 2nd time around). Perhaps people are offended by that- or by the 2nd marriage itself.

2. My dead uncle's daughter was a notable absence. She pretty much disowned the family and everyone in it after her divorced-for-20-years-from-her-mother dad died 2 years ago from cancer. She's furious with how my grandparents handled the services, frustrated with my dad (who has power of attorney and controls my uncle's $2 million-plus estate she inherited but can't touch until she's 25) and in general is a spoiled brat (we cousins all knew is for years but it seemed to come as quite a shock to the grandparents who favored her all those years) who has decided to live in the mountains, paint, and teach yoga. Alot of kids come from broken homes (GTF!!!) and do just fine, get over it.

3. My dead uncle himself (over 2 years gone now), the 2nd born after my dad, who fought a 3-year battle with cancer that went away completely and came back and spread too quickly to control. Plus he basically gave up and my grandparents gave up on him. In general, not the nicest person, if I'm honest, but for some reason my grandparent's favorite child. My grandparent's claim to be religious but have turned their backs on God, not handled their grief and apparently forgotten they have 3 other children and a host of grandchildren. We can't even take pictures without them getting quiet and damp-eyed.

I'd have to say that 3rd option has probably killed this holiday for my family; well, at least it will never be the same. That and my grandparents are getting up there- mid to late 80s and though they're tough country types, they're winding down. That I get. The torch is slowly and rather painfully being passed to my parents' generation. My family are the kinds who keep suffering and problems and embarassing to themselves; hide it behind the curtain, sweep them under the carpet (I know firsthand- they did it with my divorce). This painful transition is no exception. Everyone does their best to keep it silent, invisible. But Thanksgiving gives us all a fleeting glimpse of what's really going on- and how it changes everything.

Wow. I feel better.

I feel compelled to lighten the mood and make a short list of things I'm thankful. Yes, family, friends, health, blah blah blah. These are a little..out of ordinary. Tiny blessings, if you will.

- iPods. What I did without one, I don't quite know.

- Dachshunds. I'm hoping when I have children, I will cherish them as I do now.

- 'Friends'. My reliable buddy in times of joy and sorrow. Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Chandler, Ross, and Joey- you ROCK!

- Dr. Horrible. I already am addicted to How I Met Your Mother, but when the GTF found Dr. Horrible (the FABulous Neil Patrick Harris of Doogie Howser fame) last year, it was a whole new level of joy. Dr. Horrible's podcast and soundtrack have provided endless long-drive entertainment.

- Cherry Coke Zero. So I can enjoy my favorite drink without the calories.

- Blogspot. Just because...well, you know, dear friend. You know.

- Our DVR. I was finally able to break up with commercials. God bless it.

- Equity houses. Because it's nice to do quality theatre with grown-ups, no drama, and money.

- NYC. Given the chance, I'd never leave.

Just a few of many. Take care now. I'm off to be married!!

T.O.W. The Jitters

2008-11-25T07:51:00.000-08:00

Song: 'The Way I Am' - Ingrid Michaelson (no wait... 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz...crap I can't decide...)

Monica: I'm geting married today...! I think I cracked a rib, but I don't care, because today's my wedding day! My day is finally here!

Phoebe: She may not even notice he's gone.

Wedding countdown T-minus 9 days. Yep, 9 days. 9. Single digits. And the jitters have officially kicked in.

It’s hard to believe I’m 32 (oops, finally gave it away) and I’m having wedding jitters for the first time. The very first time. Especially strange since I’ve been married before, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles, that’s the way the poop flushes, you know, whatever….yeah, anyway. Jitters. The concept always rather annoyed me, to be honest. Blonde Bridezillas flapping their manicured hands in front of their faces, trying not to cry off their overpriced Mac mascara while throwing their drama queen hissy fit about how, despite the 1.5 years of planning and spending Daddy’s money, they’re suddenly terrified of walking down the aisle in Vera Wang couture.

Yet here I am, sans Mac mascara or Daddy’s money (or couture for that matter), waving my hands in front of my face. Not a hissy fit exactly, just semi-frequent bouts of sweating, shortness of breath, and un-provoked bursts of weeping. I know I want to marry this man (a man I thought I’d never be with, quite honestly, but that's another tale for another time), start a family with him even. Yep. Me. Kids. Scary. The wedding itself is taking place on the first day of a 5-day cruise with family and friends, low-key, low-cost…low-stress for the most part.

I’d like to think of it as nervous energy with nowhere to go (daily workouts at the local Y apparently aren’t dissipating it), or it’s simply anxiety over the wedding logistic themselves. My inner Monica Geller is having her own freak-out party, but that’s more about topics such as ‘I’ve Done No Packing’ and ‘My Wedding Dress Is Still Being Altered’.

But the boys in the basement (as Stephen King’s haunted novelist Mike Noonan would say) won’t quite let me believe that one. The boys in the basement are keeping me honest. I’m a bit terrified of becoming a parent, though by the time my mom was my age, I was four years old and doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. And sure I had a (sharp) pang of jealousy when I attended a Girls’ Night In at a former castmate’s uptown condo; for a brief moment, I longed for my own little corner of the world again that I built all by myself. But everything that comes with that (and everything that doesn’t) squashed said pang quickly.

So what do I really think my jitters are about?

I'll get right to it, thanks: I didn’t have them the first time around. At all. No joke. In fact, I was hands-down devoid of any and all emotion during that trip around the block. In fact, as I walked down the aisle, I smiled with perfect composure as my future ex-husband bawled in a manner more fitting for a funeral. Me? Not even a dewey eyelash. A phenomenon I attributed at the time to exhaustion or not being the typical squealing, frilly, bride-to-be. But now I realize it was because the wedding, the marriage wasn’t real to me, wasn’t what I wanted. My first trip down the aisle was what I thought was expected of me after a 10-year relationship; it was the alternative to breaking up and starting over in Dating 101. This time I had my choice—well, series of choices, really—and I made them. Consciously, with my freedom and options firmly in place in front of me.

And this time- THIS time- it's real. It's true. It's going to last forever. Hell, I can't even choose ceremony music without a lavish burst of weeping. And that, ladies and germs, is its own brand of terrifying. That good "We're in this together" terrifying, a lack thereof the first time around that should have been the biggest warning sign I chose poorly from my colorful options of (a) shit, or (b) get off the pot.

But not this time. No sir. Bring on the jitters. Those lovely, lovely jitters.

T.O.W. I Fear I Shall Not Reproduce, (a.k.a. I'll Stick with Dogs)

2008-10-08T14:46:00.000-07:00

Chandler: Kids, kids! Roll your way to childhood obesity!

*****

Chandler: Looks like someone wants something from ya.
Frank Jr: Oh, no, he’s just trying to pull my arm out of its socket.
Chandler: Oh...my god.
Monica: Willing to adopt triplets? No.

Okay, so that’s a bit overdramatic. I mean, if the GTF read that his forehead vein will burst and he’ll think I’m trying to trap him in manner of Glenn Close at her bunny-boiling best. No, it’s just a little Children of the Corn around here today. I’ll love my kids…our kids, our angelically perfect (if excessively covered in curly, dark hair) children.

I just happen to abhor other people’s spawn.

Yes, apparently it’s unofficial Bring-Your-Spoiled-Annoying-Child-Who-Has-to-Be-Entertained-24-7-Because-Our-Society-Is-Going-In-The-Toilet Day. It would explain the temper tantrum in the office next to mine that sounds vaguely like a scene from Saw III. And why I now have a sizeable dent in the wall just inches above my head where someone’s as-yet-undiagnosed-with-ADD son decided it would be good jolly fun to throw a stapler in my general direction for no reason. During a phone interview.

I don’t quite know how I managed not to let loose a string of particularly juicy curse words. Probably because I didn’t want a high-level financial executive to hear me call a small child a f*cking spoiled demon d*ckhole c*ntrag.

Huh.

I think I might be PMSing.

Well…the Office Supply Killer seem to have left for the day, and so will I in about an hour. I’ll just use that time to calm down before heading out into a sea of morons that apparently can’t drive in rain or bright sunlight. I should move to Alaska.

T.O.W. The Fist-Chewing and a Bit of Avant-Garde

2008-09-26T14:41:00.000-07:00

Chandler: “We should see a Broadway show! CATS!
Monica: “Honey. I think we’ve done enough.”
Chandler: “But honey…honey, these are actors. Who dress like cats. Who act like people!”

Let me start out by vowing to bite off the nose of the very next person who accuses me of music theatre “sacrilege” for not liking Rent. It is not, to quote a local moron, “like, totally, such a unique, original story”. Um, did ya see La Boheme? Jesus Tap-dancing Christ. And while we’re on the subject, I hate Phantom of the Opera, too. Stop sniveling and die already. Ha! Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

The end.

Anyway, I’m psyched to be taking on a challenging new role in my first avant-garde theatre piece. And under the direction of Lestat (yes, my Will), no less! I swear, he’s one of the few people that keeps me from completely chewing my fists free from my wrists (ooh, I made a little rhyme. It’s a little Tim-Burton-gory, but still). The play is about Julia Pastrana, known as the Ugliest Woman in the World (she was a carnival attraction in the late 1800s). Yes, I’m playing Julia, and yes it’s supposed to be ironic so shut up (don’t make me post an HNT right here right now). What makes it so avant-garde is the play takes place entirely in the dark, with just very small pinpoints of light and use of scents (i.e. onions and freshly-baked bread during a flashback scene in Mexico), music and sounds to engage the audience. Very cool concept, actually, and it’ll be a challenge in many ways but a blast in so many more.

I like being challenged. Of course, I also like getting a role where I didn’t have to kiss an ass or suck a c*ck. But I do like being challenged (and incidentally, I like to suck c*ck but not for a role), and working with friends. Real friends. True friends. Not ones who are nice because you’re in a show together, or come see your professional debut because it’s good PR but behind your back they call you fat, rub their ass on your boyfriend, or insult everyone from your mother to your brother to your as-yet-to-be-conceived children. Well anyway, we start rehearsals Sunday and I can’t wait!

It will be a fun, low-stress rehearsal period perfect for a time when I’m loving my job but working really hard, and also planning a destination wedding while trying to keep from losing my ankles to cranky family members.

As you can tell, it’s a perfectly (not) lovely Friday, so I’m going to so start my weekend with a few shots with my good friend Mr. Cuervo.

Adios.

T.O.W. I Looked At the Trap, Ray

2008-09-19T10:56:00.001-07:00

Song that made me happy today: ‘Sailing’, Christopher Cross**

(**I know. Cheesy one-hit wonders from the 80s by guys with girly voices and bad rugs. Can’t help it. It makes think of being so rich it should be illegal, sailing my sailboat – which I incidentally have no clue how to do other than knowing what the Cunningham is and which side in port – with not a care in the world. I should settle for attending a Regatta Gala)

Ray: “Don’t look at the trap!”
Egon: “I looked at the trap, Ray!”

Yeah. Good times. Sometimes there’s nothing like watching an oldie-but-goodie, and that’s just what I did with Ghostbusters I & II last night. The GTF is in a show, so I’ve had quite a bit of spare time to, well, do nothing (Lazy-Ass B*tch Alert!). Well, okay, I also harvest in the garden (yep, that garden-on-stilts I mentioned waaay back a couple years ago has turned into a flourishing greenhouse), clean up after the dogs (5 now- bring on the wiener ranch), do all the dishes and laundry, maintain the pool…you know, sh*t like that. Okay, all of it.

Well it’s a big house and honestly it gives me a rather 1950s-esque, homemaker sense of accomplishment (or maybe that’s just my inner Monica, or the fact that I’m addicted to Mad Men, though I’m more like Joan the Sexy Office Whore-Slash-Queen-Bee with the pin cushion ass). And sometimes I just feel like I’m running a very large kennel with 5 dogs and 2 cats running around. Well, the cats don’t run so much as slink back and forth between the food bowl and the litter box full of turds-coated-in-pebbles. Either way, it’s nice for him to come home at night to find me in my apron (and by apron I mean naked) after a hard night at the office, uh, theatre. Ah yes, remember back in the 50s when your living-in-sin straight boyfriend did theatre while you stayed home, cleaned house and watched Bill Murray and Dan Akroyd use proton packs?

ANyhoo…

I’ve been trying to figure out how I can be at such a good place in my life and be in such turmoil. After much thinking and gnashing of teeth, I have decided to chalk it up to growing pains. I’ve moved up to a new level in my recruiting career (a big jump, I’ve come a long way since audit firm temp jobs for losers); I’m getting remarried and will soon be starting a family; plus I live in a house with mortgage (::slides bamboo shoots gently under fingernails::), I am doing professional theatre, and I’ve made some pretty decisive moves about people I’m keeping in my life and people I’m, well, not so much. Plus I’m still doing a little bit (luckily precious little) financial clean-up from my rather-awful-marriage/rather-awesome-divorce (did I mention he remarried an elder’s daughter with the face of a quarter horse? There’s some hot sex). That’s a lot of change and growth to handle at once, and just the to-do lists themselves are taxing.

Plus, lately I've reverted into a little insecurity. I've gone from being the sideshow to the main attraction, and while it's what I wanted (and still is) and I'm happier than I've ever been, I can't help feeling a bit...used up and boring. ::cue the world's tiniest violin:: I know, I know. But I don't feel exciting in the least, and it's one of the few times in my life I wish I were someone else, like the tall skinny blonde with nerd cred or a super-cerebral world traveler.

But I'm just me. I'm hoping this flame-up of feeling like the used-up, overly-curvy sideshow will be followed up by the triumphant return of the sexy, daily-blog-writing, music-composing, queen-of-the-world power woman I know myself to me. See, this is what happens when you think too hard, and look at something too closely. Yep. I looked at the trap, indeed.

::weak smile::

::sigh::

I should go to the gym.

T.O.W. I Am Your Worst Nightmare

2008-09-19T10:56:00.000-07:00

Phoebe: "Well, let's stop talking about what you don't do, and talk about what you do do."
Chandler "What I...do do is provide a professional environment for my employees."
Phoebe: "Good, good. And nice side-step on the do do thing."
Chandler: "Hardest thing I've ever done in my life."

My Blunt and Completely Un-PC List of Resume Do and Don’ts (or more accurately, Resume Dos and Don’ts-or-I-will-immediately-eliminate-your-resume-from-consideration-because-you’re-a-moron)

DO…
…include all contact information on your resume. This includes address, phone number where you are REACHABLE, and a WORKING email address.

DON’T…
…include a photo of yourself on your resume. I will not call you. Not only does your 1970s p*rn star mustache or obviously fake rack make it hard to be objective, it’s unprofessional. This is not community theatre, people. Or an online dating service.

…use an inappropriate answer ring (better yet, one at all). I don’t want to hear ‘Miss New Booty’, ‘She F*cking Hates Me’ or any other sample of the crap you listen to on your iPod. It’s unprofessional. I will hang up, not call back, and plead ignorance if you call me back when my number pops up on Caller ID. I like Def Lepperd, Eminem and even a little Marilyn Manson, but my prospective employer doesn’t need to know that.

…send me your LinkedIn or Blue Chip profile. I don’t add prospective new employees as connections. When I need references, I will ask for them.

DO…
…have a professional email address you use only for job-searching. Example: lastname.firstname@Idontcareanyfreeemailcarrierintheuniverse.com (Yahoo, Hotmail, etc.). It’s really easy folks; you have no excuse. I will personally send you a Gmail invitation if I have to. There is no need for me to have to send an email to sexychocolateballsack@aol.com. Chances are, I won’t. And if I ask you for your email address, and you spell it out instead of saying it to me because it’s unprofessional/offensive/just-plain-stupid, I will say it back just to embarrass you.

DON’T…
…yeah. See above in reference to email addresses.

DO…
…confirm your interview time. If I send you an email, respond. Or better yet, call me. If you don’t respond, I assume you’re not coming.

DON’T…
…show up late. Never. Ever. If anything, you should be early. If you have to be late (due to traffic or something else you should have planned for in the first place), call me. Before your interview time. I don’t care how many minority groups you fall into. If you are late and don’t call me, I will not consider you for the job. I MIGHT interview you for the hell of it. But I will probably ask you to leave.

…not show up without more than 24 hours’ notice. Not unless you’ve lost a limb or your lips or fingers fell off and therefore cannot call or email me.

DO…
…be honest with me about how much money you want to make. I don’t have to have an exact number; I just need a range. This does not mean I will offer you the lowest number; it also does not mean I will offer you the highest one. I will be honest with you about what I can pay, but you have to be honest too. Ultimately it's not up to me, so don't shoot the proverbial messenger.

DON’T…
…tell me you will accept $40,000, and then turn down my offer and demand $50,000. Chances are I will not negotiate.

DO...
...read the job description. Fully. Completely. Period.

...apply for a job with a full resume and cover letter. COVER LETTER!!!

DON'T...
...apply for every open job in our system, from janitor to Senior VP. It indicates an inability to read, a lack of career focus and the fact that you are desperate, none of which make me want to hop right on the phone and call you.

T.O.W. the Time Machine

2008-09-03T14:33:00.001-07:00

Joey: "Home...back home...New York City. Where everybody knows my name."

- Friends, Season 4

The feeling I'm having right now is one I can't quite describe. Trepidation. Relief. Sadness. Elation. Stranger in a strange land.

Coming home.

I'm back on Blogger and I have no idea what to do. What to write. What to say. What to share.

I'm sure no one reads me anymore. My daily anecdotes, the chronicle of a life of angst, a daily tribute to the wonder of an earlier (simpler?) age...vanished into a whisper. I miss the community, the anonymity, and (could it be?) the angst.

My life is in place again. The GTF? Mine. The ex-hubbie? Remarried, to an elder's daughter no less. Friends (and those who turned out NOT to be) have scattered in the wind, to the corners of the country. Few have returned here to Big D, and if I had my choice, I have chosen the metaphorical "prodigal child" quite differently.

Theatre life in Little D has gone downhill, its heels being nipped at by the proverbial dogs, and I've taken to expressing myself in different ways- professional theatre and a continuing dabble in telling my life in pictures.

Yet I find myself back here longing for (can I call them?) the "old days" in many ways. Lestat (yep he's still my Will) and I talked about it last night with Catpants (in town from Seattle0 I told things changed) and he put quite succinctly. Back in West Side Story days, everything and everone just seemed to intersect at a time where we were all in angst, at a point where we needed our friends and our art with a passion that was hard to put into words. And the end result was the magic of those days...

So for now I'll pretend my time machine worked. I'm here. Will you be?

Till then,
Babs

Please update your links, Babs has moved- I'm back!

2007-04-25T09:09:00.000-07:00

http://www.sleepyhollow.com/blogs/minxen

Come by and visit! MWAH!!

T.O.W. I Make My Move

2006-12-27T17:16:00.000-08:00

Well, folks. It's time to move on from the safe security blanket of Blogspot. 'Less Traveled By' is sticking around, don't you worry. But now Babs has a new over at Sleepyhollow.

Yes, I've fallen in love with the awesome new features on Moveable Type. I'll be able to do alot of cool things. Perhaps the best one is, provided with your email address, notifying each one of you automatically when my blog updates. Yay!

No, I'm not a comment whore. Yes, I am trying to get you, all my wonderful readers, back. ::MWAH::

So.......

Please update your links with the following url to Blog de Babs, a.k.a Less Traveled By:

http://www.sleepyhollow.com/blogs/minxen

In two weeks, my blogspot blog will automatically redirect to Less Traveled By at my new Sleepy Hollow home. Thanks, and see you over there!

"Or-voo-war! Ugh, they're gonna hate me over there."
- Rachel on Friends, Season 10

T.O.W. The Sublime Happiness, Part I

2006-12-26T19:49:00.000-08:00

Have you ever waited fervently for perfect ______? ‘The perfect what, Babs? You left out the key word there.’ Yes, I know. Have you ever had something in your life, whether it be the ultimate sour appletini or the perfect life partner, and you know you haven’t found just right one but you’re positive you’ll know it when it comes along? Confused yet?

I’m not making myself clear. I apologize. My brain cells are still drinking eggnog and singing Jingle Bells, while my body is trapped in a ghost town of an office for some reason I have yet to discover in the three life-draining hours I’ve been here, chained to my desk drinking Coke Zero with a few people who must be willing to do anything to get away from their families, including going to work. Yes, there was quite a bit of Christmas-ing this weekend (it happens when you host the holiday of holidays in your home), all of it wonderful and full of ass-expanding food but none of it conducive to getting any amount of decent sleep whatsoever.

Anyhoo…

I’ll try a different approach to the seemingly-unattainable point of this blog.

Growing up, Christmas has been always been a dependably-fond memory for me, filled with excitement and wonder even as I approached my teenage years. Mom and Dad went to great lengths to keep the magic of Santa alive as long as possible for my brother and I. And once we were both in the know, they still insisted on setting out the “big gifts” on the fireplace. We didn’t have the most elaborate decorations. And maybe we didn’t get everything we asked for. But we had stuffed stockings on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. We were never hurting for gifts, plus there was Mom’s gingerbread and Christmas cookies, watching holiday movies on television, , helping prepare the giant holiday feast, time with our grandparents and aunt and uncles and cousins…I never knew any different, and I always assumed I couldn’t have it any better either.

Then the whole becoming-an-adult thing happened. Christmas skipped right over that romantic, sitting-in-front-of-the-fire-drinking-hot-cocoa-and-kissing-while-opening-thoughtful-gifts-to-each other phase completely. Instead it morphed into a balancing act between two joined families, for which my self and my now-ex-hubby stood as the crux. The relationship that had become the center of my life over everything else redefined what the holidays were “supposed” to be. Me in my naïve, impressionable, eager-to-be-loved state started to questions if in fact my family did things the “right” way.

Here was a family where the mother did all the work for the holiday meal. There was a Christmas replacement for every item in the house. My ex-hubby, an only child got everything on his list, stacked around him on Christmas morning (yes, even as a grown adult) akin to something like Rapunzel in her tower. I was told my family didn’t take the holiday seriously enough by not spending enough time and money on me. (Yeah. This coming from the Jesus-freak Church of Christ family).

And sure. He, along with his family, lavished dozens of gifts on me. Their home was beautiful, and we all sat on our asses until it was tome to eat and also immediately afterward. But even though I was supposed to be enjoying the holidays with the man I loved and married, I knew- I just knew- this wasn’t what it was supposed to be like. It was all about the gifts and how much money we spent. It felt forced. It felt wrong. It felt…not me. Okay, so I also knew Christmas would be never like it was when I was a kid. But this? This was not Christmas.

The problem was, I couldn’t ever put my finger on what was missing. I couldn’t write out a list and tell you what I need to have in order for Christmas to be what I’ve always thought it would be as a well-adjusted, if not overly-sentimental, adult. But I knew I hadn’t found it yet.

You could say perhaps it was a representation, an extension, of my chosen path into marriage not being what I knew it should be. And you could very well be right.

Little did I know it would be another five years until I finally got things right.

To be continued…

T.O.W. The Damn Happiness

2006-12-20T17:14:00.000-08:00

Didn't I tell you? NAKED GLORY! Yeah! So there! And if it wasn't illegal (and I didn't think it would frighten adults, children and small woodland creatures), I would be running around naked in the cold air. Looks like winter is back just in time and it really upped my mood.

Just kinda had the "blah's" this week. I'm so tired of not having enough money to do all the things I want to do. I'm more tired of not performing. I'm even more tired of not being in as good of shape as quickly as I would like. I'm the most tired of being unfulfilled in what I do to make money. I've gotta get my ass in gear before it's time to make New Year's resolutions. And my main problem is that there are so many things I want to do and need to do, that it's hard to the get need and want lists balanced and the want list prioritized.

Wow. That was a boring sentence.

Onto things that will actually get me google hits...like...NAKED. Yes, I need to start doing HNT again, though right now my digital camera is in the mystical, magical 6-to-8 week warranty repair black hole. I've already screamed and shouted and cried and threatened curses upon the houses of the camera repair people if I do not have it by Christmas morning. Wrath 'o' Babs. Soooo....I will probably be doing a little "Best of" until I can get some new classy shots taken by the GTF. Score.

So...I know you're all dying to know why I stopped blogging. Way back when (ummm, July 2004) I discovered that times of angst and turmoil and torturous passion, writing came easily to me. I fluently (and oft quite eloquently) was able to put pen to paper (virtually speaking) and the result was both productive, effective, and stress-relieving, not to mention good writing practice. The only problem was alot of that passionate eloquence came from my having forgotten how to be happy.

Fast forward to now. Despite some what I call surface stressors, my life is, well, good. I still have to work at not worrying, battling some depression and panic attacks. I got through a divorce. I have new friends. I blissfully dissipated the angst and turmoil and torturous passion in exchange for happiness. For peace. For, well, normal. And I like it. I'm in love with normal. but damn if it hasn't cramped my writing style.

Damned happiness!

Soooo...I've got to open up those places again. Those passionate, tortured-artist places, perhaps? Re-capture the magic? I'll stop torturing cliches, you get the point. But I'm baaaaaaaack!

T.O.W. The Suckage Part II (a.k.a. I Need More Weiner Dog Pants)

2006-12-19T19:33:00.000-08:00

And…the suckage continues. Hence...this RANT!

Okay, so I had a great Secret Santa at work who got me an awesome spa set and a precious stuffed Christmas dog. And I was a good Secret Santa to my ex-boss. He really liked his Pappas restaurant gift card, and he’s a retro freak like me so he appreciated the way I wrapped it.

But this company is run by some very CHEAP people, apparently (I think I knew this, I just chose to ignore it). The bonuses we were supposed to be getting today we’re now getting next week (AFTER Christmas- what the crap is that?) so I can’t do the extra shopping I had wanted to. More of an inconvenience, but still…COME ON.

And right before the holiday we also find out they are changing our health insurance…again. I’ve been at this company for less than a year and this is the second time it’s changed since I’ve been here. And it gets worse, not better. We’re now solely on a deductible-based plan for doctor appointments. We must meet a certain (and rather high) deductible before we can just pay the copay, which is now $35 instead of $15 or $20. Oh, there’s more. Our vision and dental plans are being taken away and we have to use our flex plan money to pay for deductible-based eye exams and cleanings, etc. And no more discounts on eyewear. Of course, they tell us this AFTER we have had our flex plan forms processed, so I can’t add on more money to account for this change. And here’s another kicker—even though our paycheck deductions start to contribute to our flex plan in January, we can’t use our flex account AT ALL for 30 days and after that only a certain percentage is available each month and that increases as the year goes by. WHAT THE CRAP?!?!? I know all this stuff makes the plan cheaper and all, but give me an ever-lovin’ break.

Bob: "So, Peter, it appears you've been missing alot of work."
Peter: "Well, I can't say that I've been missing it, Bob."

Is that all, you ask? Why no, readers. No, it’s not. A la ‘Office Space’, the company has brought in a “consultant”. We are now having to track our activities each day in 5 minutes interval to judge our efficiency and determine “how many people we need in each department”. That’s exactly the wording they used. Due to my ever-evolving role with this company, my place in all this is a bit hard to explain (and rather a boring explanation so I’ll just skip it for now) but the general idea is the same. A company that is growing this fast and doing this well (as least by what we’re told) should NOT have this kind of thing going on right now.

I don’t know what to do. I really don’t. I’m having flashes of that good ol’, too-familiar “Can’t I just catch a break?” feeling. And when I do catch a break, can it please last a meaningful amount of time? Is it the universe’s way of telling me I’m STILL not doing with my life what I should be? I know, you’re rolling your eyes right now. Perhaps, I’m just not as good at picking out where I should work and what opportunities I should take as I thought I was.

Who knows.

What I do know is that I am fighting to NOT let it drive my holiday spirit into the dirt with a rather large and cumbersome hammer. Hey, my shopping is done, presents are wrapped. And I have weiner dog pajama pants. But my dad seems to be drinking a bit more since the season started (he's career-frustrated which I understand) and my mom is bitching more about how we’re spending Christmas weekend and with whom and I have no idea WHY (except that my grandmother verbally beats her down). Ah, everyone's family is a little dysfunctional. GTF and I are hosting the damn thing, so god’s sake. We even bought them special pajama grams and set them out upstairs in the (very nicely decorated) guest room. We love having them here- my family rocks. Perhaps this is why people who host Christmas in their homes end up wanting to gouge their eyes out with used cocktail toothpicks that smell like pickles and sausage links.

The only ones who seem to be stress-free are the dogs, who get to wear cute sweaters and have a whole host of new things to smell and pee on (a.k.a. the gifts under the tree). No matter. The work day is almost over, and I will go home to my sweetie so we can have a nice quiet dinner and crazy monkey sex, not necessarily in that order.

I promise my Christmas Spirit will return soon. In its full, naked glory.

T.O.W. The Suckage, a.k.a. As Least I Have Weiner Dog Pants

2006-12-19T19:13:00.000-08:00

Doesn’t it always seem like when you’re having the most craptastic, lifeforce-sucking, clusterf*ck of a day, that’s the day when everyone else seems to be in the best mood EVER? Even the ever-gruff toll plaza woman with the quarter-size hairy mole smiles and tells me to have a blessed day, and I just want to chuck my lowfat peppermint hot chocolate into her tiny booth. Friggin’ cheerful toll mole b*tch.

And isn’t it also always true that the most craptastic, lifeforce-sucking, clusterf*ck of a day comes after one or more absolutely delightful days? Yeah. Score. Okay so yeah, I should just be happy I had a good weekend (I even got weiner dog pants!) and get through the day but just ARRGGHHHH! Suck-tastic!

Okay, so I’ll focus on the good stuff. Yeah, trying to be positive here. Whatever.

This weekend was great. I got my Christmas shopping DONE. And I don’t mean just “everything is bought” done but “everything is bought and wrapped beautifully under the tree” done. A whole week early. I am all kinds of awesome, and so is my sweetie.

I can’t tell you how incredible it is to do Christmastime with the man of your dreams. From putting up decorations, to baking cookies and cooking holiday meals…awesome. And this weekend was the terrific- busy but terrific. Thursday night was time with friends in Denton- rocking fun as always. We celebrated Steph’s birthday and managed to work around Miss Sarah not having a voice. :) Then Friday, we stayed out till 11 pm shopping after a nice dinner at Olive Garden. Saturday morning, it was back out shopping at the Allen Outlets (ugh, kill me now. Everyone that wasn’t at every mall in DFW was there). I set my phone down on top of a pile of still-overpriced button-down shirts at Banana Republic and ended up wandering around listening for 'Your Body Is A Wonderland' (GTF's ring on my phone) for 15 minutes. I know he picked me up a few things while we were there (including some pretty, lacey things ::fluttery sigh::) I believe I might just be a bit spoiled…

THEN…Sunday we slept in before heading out to the movies, where I saw perhaps the best film I’ve seen this year- The Pursuit of Happyness, starring Will Smith. Can we say stellar film? Yeah, so I blubbered like a baby way more than once (if you’ve seen the previews you’ll know why). Okay, so when it comes down it, I don’t care who wins what Oscar and why and all that pointless self-gratifying, feel-sorry-for-the-rich-losers stuff, but Will Smith DESERVES an Oscar for this role. No, he doesn’t play a serial killer or a mentally retarded person or anything else that usually is followed by an Oscar nod, but wow. Just wow. See it.

We came home after that (well, that and GTF buying me my weiner dog pants) and wrapped gifts until one on in the morning while we watched Alias Season 5. Yippee! ::sigh:: Just a great weekend.

And today…suckage. Massive suckage. Ah well, can’t win ‘em all.

Later.

The unbearable likeness of Babs

2006-10-26T07:40:00.000-07:00

"I love you. I'm sorry, I have verbal diarrhea."
- Dr. Callie Torres, Grey's Anatomy

Damn, have I missed this. I say DAMN!!! :)

Well, I have to tell ya, life in Babsworld is on the up-and-up (well, aside for the woes of money but tra la la). It's good to be back.

I finished my run as 'Nickie' in Denton's Sweet Charity in the late summer and since then I've been working like a dog as an IT recruiter. Yep, I find all those tech geeks out there (god love 'em) jobs all day. It's fast-paced, rewarding work that sometimes gives me twisting stress knots in my stomach and butt cramps for sitting at the computer till 1 in the morning BUT...it also gives me a good salary and right now some work-from-home. Bring that sh*t on!

I'm a permanent resident here at casa de GTF (yep, we're fully-fledged together now, which rocks my face off) and let me ya it's a sweet deal. Not just the house and the neighborhood and all that, but wow. I was made for the blissful life of livin' in sin. ::grin:: Okay, so it's not all about the great SEX either (oh_my_god_ but again, meh, doesn't hurt. ;)

Let's see...it's my favorite time of year right now. Starting to get cool and crisp and time for carving pumpkins (I plan on carving wiener dogs into mine), with the holidays peeking around the corner. Yes, for pumpkin day this year I am going to be a naughty goth fairy (it occurred to the GTF and I while shopping at the wonder that is Walgreens) which I think is a good fit, yes? Anyone? Bueller? Okay, so I can't wear it for the company costume contest but whatever.

I'm trying to think of fun or interesting things that have happened in my life lately worthy of la blog. Oh! Well, I will say I love Replay TV, which is good since I have more MUST WATCH shows than ever. Friends has finally found its replacement with Grey's Anatomy, which shall therefore be my new source for quotes. For me, Lost and CSI have fallen off the map, as has Desperate Housewives and Scrubs. So aside from Grey's, I can't miss Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Heroes, Supernatural, Justice, Family Guy, How I Met Your Mother, The Class, and Til Death. I also enjoy NUMB3RS, Criminal Minds, House, Vanished, Shark, and American Dad. Wow. This is what you do when you aren't doing a show. You work, eat, exercise, sleep, and WATCH TV like normal people. Huh. Fascinating.

My brother and his rather thin sweetie got married 2 weeks ago. I sang in my long purple gown, very well I might add, and the whole event was just gorgeous. Of course, I spent the week before designing centerpieces and placecards for the rehearsal dinner and tried to keep my mom from going insane (and driving others insane in return). Bro and new sis are now on a Hawaiian cruise. Dirty bitches.

Ooh, and this past weekend I got to meet my fave author Daniel Handler (a.k.a. Lemony Snicket) He was at our local mall for a signing of the 13th Series of... book called 'The End'. He sat there from 5:30 till what was probably way past 3 in the morning signing books for, well, mainly kids. Nice guy, I'm more a fan of his adult fiction such as The Basic Eight. We got our tickets, came at around 9:30 and were told our group would some time around midnight. We went and saw The Departed (NIcholson, Damon, DeCaprio) which was good but like a neverending Boston version of Pulp Fiction. I swear, they should have had the counter in bottom to see how many times they said f*ck. Wow. Anyway, we didn't end up having our books signed until around 1:30 in the morning. But good times. Worth it.

Now, however, I need to get to work. so ta-ta for now. :)

T.O.W. I’m Not Dead, Just Busy

2006-08-03T13:55:00.000-07:00

Current mood: Completely fried (in every possible way) and apologetic
Current music: "I'm Sorry" - Patsy Cline

So, for those of you (any of your that are left)…yes, I’m still here. Babs the Minxen didn’t die, or fall into a black hole, or end up in the loony bin (I know, very disappointing). I’m here, still kickin’. ::punches fist in air:: So yes, my most humble of apologies. I miss my blog, I miss you guys. ::sniff sniff:: No...seriously.

I didn’t realize quite how long it had been until the GTF told me he missed reading my amusing ramblings and anecdotes (though he sees me every day). June 14th! Wow, am I a blog deadbeat or what? Since I last wrote, I’ve gotten a new career, almost finished rehearsing for a show, and turned thirty. Yeah. Big month and a half. Forgive me now? Maybe? Hmmm…

Sweet Charity opens exactly 2 weeks from today. This experience has reminded me (1) how much I would love to do this for a living, and (2) how taxing having a lead role can be, no matter the rewards. More on that later (you’ll here that phrase a lot in this entry).

I am now (okay, I will be in September) an official IT Recruiter. Yep, I’ve been temping as a recruiting coordinator since June and blew their (and my) socks off. Not only do I love this job, I’m actually good at it. I love having a goal to reach every day and how fast the time doth fly in this office. Wow.

Let’s see…oh YEAH! I turned 30, the Big 3-Oh. I have to say, the GTF especially made this birthday incredible, complete with a surprise dinner party and our late night at the Velvet Hookah in Addison. Yep, me. Smokin’ hookahs.

Stay tuned for movie talk (Christopher Guest, Tarantino), T.V. gossip (Little Britain, etc.), and yes, a detailed account of our first hookah experience (though I must say ther's nothing quite like making out on a Persian rug while smoking flavored tobacco water), Yee-haw!

Ciao, darlings. I’m baaaaaack!

T.O.W. It’s One Of Those Days…Weeks…Months…

2006-06-14T13:13:00.000-07:00

So, let’s start the day off with a little dose of awareness. Here’s an informative (but frightening) website for ya. Enter your address and immediately get a detailed map of registered sex offenders surrounding where you live (the map also shows local schools). Click on the color-coded squares to view detail of each offender, including photo, address, and a list of convictions. Wow. Just wow.

Today people are PISSING ME OFF. Dumb people, lying people, people who shift blame. Rude people, stupid people, ones who can’t learn my name. Oh looky there, it’s like an adult version of Red Fish, Blue Fish. Turd-chewing b*tches. ::beats head against wall:: Ow! As if the stress over money and EVERYTHING ELSE isn’t enough…I know, I know. It could be worse, I’m just freaking out, Every cloud’s got a friggin’ silver lining, Blahlahlahlahlah. But seriously. A break would be nice. Any break. At all. Yeah, that’d be greeeat. Thanks.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck in a depressingly hard-to-shake performing drought. I want to, I want to so much it’s physically painful. No-- really. But I haven’t been to get into something that’s been, quite honestly, worth my time. And I don’t mean I have to get the lead in order to go along with a show. Some of my best theatre experiences have been through small but juicy roles where I got to show my stuff but leave ‘em wanting more. But driving an hour and half there and back to be Chorus Girl #6? No. I know that makes me sound like a diva b*tch the likes of Mariah Carey, but so be it. There’s (nearly) nothing worse than being stuck in the chorus singing 2nd soprano and dancing your butt off while the director’s daughter (or big-boobed no-talent blonde, or the ol’ community standby) brings the show down into a giant steaming pile of mediocrity. Kind takes the wind out of one’s sails, no? And it’s all relative, you see. Chorus in an equity house show where you’re working with the cream o’ the crop and getting paid a stipend while earning points toward becoming a “real” (translation: paid for your talent and trouble) actor? That’s one thing. A three-month rehearsal period of paying for your own gas so you can get a two-line bio, walk across the stage twice, and take in the endless thrills of off-stage pit singing while the stick insect lead forgets her lines? Not so much.

After making my website rounds (again), it looks like I have four auditions coming up in the next month. Four. Yeah. We’ll see. What I should is resign myself to one or more of following in order to get a decent role (read: something besides Chorus Girl #6- or #1-5, ha ha very funny):

- Choreograph a show
- Assistant direct a show (translation: director’s sh*t-deflecting shield)
- Find a fulltime job kissing ass
- Get leg extensions
- Open my own theatre
- Make my parents open a theatre
- Embrace bulimia
- Do chorus in 27 shows and “pay my dues” so by the time I’m forty-five I can look forward to playing Miss Hannigan and Aunt Eller.
- Grow a penis

I know I haven’t exactly been a healthy dose of sunshine today. Once again, I’ll be leaving it up to HNT to make it up to you, dear readers. Ciao for now.

T.O.W. I Must Spread the Word About My Bit of Good Fortune

2006-06-13T11:38:00.000-07:00

First, a bit of movie trivia. Which actor from a hit T.V. sitcom has done a character voice in every Pixar animated film? Find the answer here.

Also, here’s a great article about the 25 most controversial movies of all time, according to Entertainment Weekly, as reported by CNN. I’m proud to say I’m fairly on-the-edge, having seen 11 of these films. ;) Yeah, controversy! Be a rebel!

Ahhhh…it’s Tuesday. BLAH! Big fat BLAH! My oversensitive stomach struck once again, that wily minx. Yep, trés early Monday morning, I started doing my LEAST favorite thing in the world—vomiting. Sorry guys, hope you’re not using this blog as your lunchtime reading material. Oops. But yeah. Sick. By 8:00 a.m., I was able to move around enough without running to stick my head on the toilet. So I was a trooper; I threw on clothes and masked enough of my sickly troll-like appearance to where I could drag my ass into work for a day of conference calls. Of course, I get there only to here “Oh, you could have stayed home and done the calls from there. I wouldn’t have come in sick” from my boss. God love her.

I’m better today, just a bit sore and tired. And the Tuesday Blues. I swear, Tuesdays are worse than Mondays. Plus it’s so friggin’ HOT I feel like my face is going to melt right off when I walk outside.

Instead, I guess, I’ll dwell on a rather enjoyable weekend. Mainly a lot of laying around—inside, with GTF. It’s just too darn hot (cue the Kiss Me Kate soundtrack), period. And being around the GTF makes me hot enough as it is. I know, cheesy line. But it’s true so ::blows raspberry:: ! Seriously, though, a short list:

- We had dinner with my parents.
- We planted some tropical flowers and tended the garden.
- I bought an iMac for $50.
- We vegged out in from of the T.V.

Hello?!? What? Still on “I bought an iMac for $50”? Hells yeah, I did. Yes, every now and then I get a bit of good karma. Goes like this: the GTF and I were making our way back from making a Pampered Chef delivery to his mom. Sweet man that he is, he wanted to stop at a rather lovely park in the city and show me around. Despite the heat, it was a gorgeous park with a kick-ass playground (I love the swings). But I digress. As we’re heading back to the house, we pass a small garage sale and there, sitting on a ragged-edge card table, is this iMac. Ah, my preciousssss…I told the GTF to stop NOW. We gaped for a moment before he told me to jump out and price it. All saints be praised, he knocked the price down from $75 to $50 for the iMac (a ’99 but never used) and a brand-spankin’-new Apple keyboard and mouse. HOT-FREAKIN’-DAMN!

Being the prudent garage sale shopper he is, the GTF parked the car and asked these lovely people if he could plug in the computer just to make sure (despite the seller’s guarantee it did in fact work) it would boot up. Easy as pie. I forked over the cash, and we were off...off with my new, $50 iMac, keyboard, and mouse. Okay, now granted it was operating on OS 8.5 (yikes!) and a much-outdated browser. But since the memory, etc. had been updated by the previous owner (a Mac hater- the computer had been an unsolicited gift), the GTF (patient and mah-velous as he is) was able to upgrade both the operating system and browser enough to be tolerable and then some. Wahoo! Check out Babs with the $50 iMac! Sorry, I know I’m such a dork, but aw, YEAH! I’ve messed around on it a bit, getting used to using a Mac again (I’ve missed it). Next step is to get my iPod and iTunes on there. The keyboard is the newest model, complete with USB ports, so no prob. But working on a Mac…ahhhhhhh!

This day seems to be zooming by (thank the lord), and the GTF’s actual birthday is looming (Bow-chicka-bow-bow!) so I guess I’d better be off for today. If I can get freakin’ Blogger to accept the pics (so far it hasn’t been working) My garden extravaganza should be up soon.

AND…

Big news for Blog de Babs coming in the next few days. Won’t say any more right now, but…ch-ch-changes!

Ta-ta.

T.O.W. I Curse Caterpillars and Stuff Myself With Meat

2006-06-09T08:24:00.000-07:00

Rachel: Monica, that dinner was so good. I think you killed us.
Ross: I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.
Joey: I need something sweet.

Okay, a quick note: Damn you, Blogger! I spent a good hour on a great “tending my garden” entry yesterday, complete with what I must admit are great shots of my many plants and veggies. Then Blogger went down and POOF! Gone. ::hisses:: But it’s fine. Fine! I will put this out there to the little black and green caterpillars eating my chives and okra: die, bastards, die! Damn you caterpillars! Blogger and caterpillars! The GTF and I were sufficiently frustrated (re: caterpillars), having lovingly tended said garden for more than a month now. And just as the crop is starting to come, the caterpillars decided it looked like a good place to chow down. They literally ate all my chives and started in on the peppers and okra. I took great joy in smushing them with my toes until the GTF soaked the entire garden in pest poison. Ha! So there! Okay, so this wasn’t a quick note. Whatever.

Oh, dear. My wheelbarrow broke down on the way to work this morning and I had to walk 3 miles in my black spike heels. Yep, my wheelbarrow. That’s what happens when I go to a steakhouse. ::puffs cheeks out and snorts:: I swear, I’m still full from last night’s meal. Damn! The GTF and I headed out for his early birthday celebration (there shall be more celebrating later- oh yes, there shall) at The Keg. The Keg is, dear readers, a vastly-underrated steakhouse in Plano (right next to the completely useless Snotville, uh, I mean Willow Bend Mall). The décor is rich leather, redwood, spacious booths, and dim lighting; the waitstaff attentive but not overbearing. And that’s a hard balance. Some higher-end places, they kick you out for not wearing a jacket. Here, I wouldn’t show up in my spandex tube top, but you get the idea. And not like other places, where your server is always right on top of you, ready to wipe your mouth and feed you your steak if you asked them. It’s almost as if they’d wipe your ass in the bathroom too, if that’s what it took to get a good tip. Sheesh. Anyway, no. This guy was helpful, but not pushy.

We wasted no time ordering mango and peach cocktails (um, strong ones), and the GTF convinced me to order the crab and cream cheese-stuffed mushrooms to start (I was jonesing for crab cakes). But oh_my_god. Those mushrooms? ::Joygasm!:: Of course, me loves crab. My precioussss….I swear, slap crab on anything and I’ll eat it. Well okay, maybe not…okay yeah, anything. I knew right then this a restaurant where you get what you pay for.

Man, I’m a carnivore whore. I swear. I seek out a good piece of meat (no penis jokes!) like a zombie looking for brains. Well, part of it’s my low iron count, but WHATEVER. I grew up chomping on beef nearly every day (and I’m surprised at my big ass?); I need it. NEED IT. Last night was no exception. I selected fillet mignon, grilled medium rare and wrapped in bacon. They topped the fillet with béarnaise sauce, asparagus, scallops, and shrimp. I’m still full from last night, but no matter. I’m wiping drool off my keyboard anyway (you’re welcome for that visual). Every now and then, there’s a meal that’s almost like a really good orgasm. And for me, that means it’s gotta be really good. ::wiggles hips:: ;) Aw, yeah. Anyhow, The Keg definitely goes on my (short) list of places I’ll pay $30 for a good steak:

Pappas Brothers Steak House
Bob’s Steak and Chophouse
The Capital Grille at the Crescent
Lowry’s The Prime Rib
Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steakhouse
And now…The Keg

Three Forks and Ruth’s Chris have kind fallen out of favor since they’ve gone too mainstream with their menu and seasoning methods. Definitely don’t get your money’s worth anymore. After the meal, we managed to squeeze out the door and went to Barnes & Noble to walk around a bit. Not to mention, I love me some book shopping. So now that I have you all craving red meat, how’s things? :)

Not sure what I’ll be doing this weekend, short of hopefully seeing my Lestat. ::blows kisses:: I’ve been wavering back and forth on seeing Vincifer (Vaugniston? Vinjen? Vaughnjen?) in The Break Up. I hear a bad review, then a good review, then a truly stinky one, then People magazine gave it “Critic’s Choice”. ::shakes head:: People is usually my indicator, since more than any other publication or reviewer, I tend to agree with their movie critics. It used to be Gene Shallit (sp?)), but he’s become one of those guys who doesn’t like anything unless it’s a froofy independent film where sweaty people ride on trains, talk to walls, and show their bare hairy asses while snorting cocaine. Right, that’s an exaggeration, but not much.

I also would like to see Cars (latest from Pixar) and The Omen. Movies re: Satan tend to freak me out, but this one looks rather good. I’ve never seen the original. The one I’m looking forward to the most, however, has to be A Prairie Home Companion. This is the movie Lily Tomlin plugged when we went to see her stand up back here. Looks hilarious in the same vein as the Christopher Guest mocumentaries. The cast is phenomenal; Lily Tomlin, Woody Harrelson, Tommy Lee Jones, Kevin Kline, Virginia Madsen (from Sideways), John C. Reilly, Meryl Streep. I’m even willing to tolerate Lindsey Lohan being in it for the sake of the rest of that cast. Awesome.

Hopefully, I’ll get my garden entry reconstructed tonight. Regardless, have a good weekend, all! Ciao.