Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Anyone Wanna See Me Act? A Lot? Like, Seriously. A LOT.

Blog, it's crunch time. I have been tasked by my platonic hetero intergendered tourmate Andy to perform in a highly depressing entertaining show based in Greek mythology and set in contemporary times called Bash. It's the first of many shows he hopes to produce through his new theatre company, Ghostlight Theatre. I'd like to say that I've been in enough shows to where I feel confident tackling this project, but if I'm honest it's a little daunting.

Ok, it's a lot daunting. See, the entire thing is basically made up of three one act plays. I'm in one of them. By myself. Like, the play is me. Alone. No one else. For, like, half an hour. Things like this are easy to say yes to when it's October and you have Halloween things to do and March seems like a far off fairy tale of melty snow and sunshine. Then suddenly you're in a $37 hotel room with copious amounts of cigarette burns on the comforters, but you don't care because you have to drill these thousands of words into your brain over the next two weeks. Not to mention all the words are like, umm... and, yeah... so, you know, anyway... right? Uhh, yeah.

Come see me, if you dare. I'll be acting up a storm in Chanhassen come March 14th. And 15th. And guess what; the 16th too. Oh, you can't make it that weekend because you're too busy Blog? (yeah right) Well good thing we're putting the thing up the following weekend as well (the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd). YOU HAVE NO CHOICE.

I know I'm all iffy about this at the moment, but a lot can happen over the span of a few weeks. Every day I'm learning more, and if anything, this is a huge lesson in memorization for me. I've been insanely out of practice over the past few years, so why not go balls-to-the-wall and just cram half an hour of messed-up and depressing theatre into my mind just in time for spring? You know? Yeah, I mean, like... why not?

Because who can resist this view for the next 14 days? Not me, apparently.

Oh, you want to know who else is performing in the other two pieces that make up this madness? Well that would be my hetero tourmate himself, Andy Browers (who also is braving the let's-talk-on-stage-by-myself-for-half-an-hour-as-a-messed-up-character madness), along with old Bemidji pals Sarah Bull, and Skot Rieffer.

And since this post has turned into a shameless plug for my ridiculous theatre endeavors, give us some money. I did. I'm officially paying myself to mince my brain into word meat. If you like, you can pay me to do that for your own entertainment. It'll be worth it.

Off to read things over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Old Lady Veldhouse

Well Blog, I'm a regular silver mine these days. My follicles are drying up at an incredible pace and I'm left with what are becoming more and more pronounced streaks of white at the roots of my hair. I get that I just turned 29, but can't this aging thing wait until at least 30?

Oddly enough (and despite the comment I just made), I've been ok with this visible sign of how long I've been around. I noticed my first gray a couple years ago and since then they have multiplied here and there. But lately, it seems that this trend has been going on at an accelerated pace. I color my hair anyway (because I like it red, dammit) so it's not like I can't mask the wisdom that is creeping from my scalp. However, over the last few months I've let the red grow out just so I can examine exactly how gray I'm going. Well, Blog, I'm going pretty gray. Not like Anderson Cooper gray, but more like Patrick Dempsey gray where you're all "he's not gray" and then you look at a picture of him and you realize "hey, he's a little gray".

But he's not... oh wait. There it is.

Meanwhile in Obviousville...

I clearly have a long way to go until I'm blending my hair into a white background like Anderson, but look how he rocks it with his steely gaze and media sensibility! Sure he's a dude, but I could rock the white if I had it. Hopefully. Plus I'm a lady, so if I ever get sick of it I can just cover it up with some other color that I'm into. Like red.
We'll see how long these mousy brown/blonde/gray roots can grow out before I can't handle them anymore. Part of me wants to see what I look like with my natural hair color since it's been years since I had no dye saturating my locks. It's going to be a long process if that's the case. By the time I've got everything grown out, I probably will be blending into white backgrounds. Because you know me, always standing in front of white walls and backdrops and such.

Trust me. They're there. Making me more distinguished every day.


Monday, February 18, 2013

I Tried to Avoid Spoilers, but Maybe Ignore This if You Haven't Seen the Most Recent Episode of Downton Abbey


Downton Abbey.




I haven't cared about a TV series in a very long time, and now I know why. IT IS AN EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER. Caring about fictional TV characters sucks. I'm depressed about make believe things, Blog. Make believe things that happened 90 years ago, 4,000 miles away. This has absolutely nothing to do with me, BUT OH HOW IT DOES.

A while back, I let you know about how Downton Abbey was a catalyst for me to feel feelings again (coincidentally on the same day I auditioned for the theatre I'm doing right now). It has since turned into an evening obsession since I realized I could successfully stream season 3 from the PBS website using various hotel wireless connections that prove to be better than what I have at home.

And then last night I realized season 3's finale was on PBS itself. On the actual TV, Blog. I watched it as myself and every other American who cares about fancy parties and servant snobbery began to HATE JULIAN FELLOWES FOR CREATING THIS DEVASTATING WEB OF LIFE AND DEATH THAT WE CAN'T QUIT.

Why'd you do it, Julian? Why?

Instead of feeling alive as I once did, I feel dead. Just like some of the cast, APPARENTLY.

Someone who watches this show, please come down to The South and hold me. Andy knows nothing about this. At least I got him into The Bachelor enough so we can bitch about Sean and the harem of waifs he's been whittling down over the last few weeks.


I need to sleep now. Good night.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Valentine Karaoke

It is the day of love, Blog! So obviously I'm going to be writing to you: my one true love... so far.

Last night we were conveniently within half an hour of our touring friends Erin and Leslie, so naturally we went out to a karaoke bar for some good times. I was especially up for it since we didn't have a show until 11 this morning. Usually we're getting up early for this job, but every once in awhile you get lucky. Like when you get a surprise three-day weekend because it's President's Day on Monday. What?! I know!

Anyway, we were out last night doing our thing in a South Carolinian karaoke bar when a very sweet townie (who didn't know what townies are because apparently they're not a thing in The South) promptly fell in love with me as I croaked out my rendition of Hit Me Baby One More Time to the 11 people who milled around the bar. Maybe it was my terrible Britney impression that caught his eye. Maybe it was my Northern demeanor (whatever that is). But this guy was all about me and when he wasn't chatting me up, he was chatting with Andy to see what I was all about; which I'm just now realizing, is an aloof ball of nerves and jokes.

Dating isn't something that is really possible on tour, so when you meet a nice guy who takes a genuine interest in you, it's a little bittersweet. And the knife is twisted when you're about to ring in the Valentine holiday and suddenly roses are being sold to your suitor. So he buys one. For you.

Sometimes you don't realize how long you've gone without something until you've got it again. When he sheepishly handed me the single red rose, it became clear to me that it has been years (years) since I have received anything floral from anything male. Whoa. I accepted it because I didn't know what else to do. It was like the average-looking-people version of The Bachelor. I made it to the next week of tour, Blog! I'm going to Winston-Salem!

I wasn't drinking because I was driving. Responsibility! So because I didn't have copious amounts of alcohol flowing through my blood, I felt uptight about the whole situation even though I was having a good time. He was perfectly nice and sat at our table the entire evening. He wasn't drunk, even though I thought he was because he had a serious drawl. Like, seriously serious I can't understand what you're saying because you're talking at .2 miles per hour*.

To be fair, he didn't know what I was saying half the time because I was talking "too fast". If anything, it wouldn't have worked out because of the language barrier alone.

Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that my interaction with this perfectly nice southern gentleman (I think that's what they call them down here) taught me that I'm actually happy without a Valentine. Last night I got to know a nice and attractive guy who took a genuine interest in me, but at the end of the evening I made a point to keep my contact information to myself.  I was uptight about it because right now I'm content with what I've already got. I also might have turned him down because, oh I don't know, he lives in South Carolina and I have absolutely no plans to ever go back there.

But honestly Blog, it hasn't always been this way on this day of love. That's why I'm telling you (and the rest of the internet) about it.

Happy Valentine's Day**! Whether you've got someone or not, you've always got yourself, so make sure you're loving you. That sounds like a sad pat-on-the-back a single girl like myself says to make herself feel better. But you have to admit, Blog. There's truth to it.

*Fun fact: When southern people get really, really drunk for real, it's even more difficult to understand them. I learned this when a "cowboy" came over to our table, highly intoxicated, and proceeded to make vowel sounds and then kind of say the word "Florida". It was one of those moments in life where all you can do is sit there and wonder how the hell you got yourself into the situation at hand.

**Also happy birthday to my dear friend Kerin! She's out of her 20's y'all! She's also going to hate that I used the word "y'all" in her birthday wish. OH NO! IT'S RUBBING OFF ON ME!

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Super Sweet Birthday Post

Another year of life lived, Blog! I always try to post a little somethin' somethin' on my birthday, and this year is no different. I ended last year's entry with an optimistic "I'm going to try and make 28 the best I can make it." Even though I fell into a weird winter funk shortly after that, I feel like I eventually got my ass in gear and made some really scary but exciting decisions. I learned that when you say yes to stuff, you can end up in an elementary school with a bunch of 3rd and 4th graders singing happy birthday to you. And then you can end up at a Pizza Hut afterwards, gorging yourself on the lunch buffet. And then you can go on a lovely walk with your tour partner in the sunshine and point out how you happen to be wearing all black and standing in front of a high school taking a picture. Oops. And then you can spend the afternoon perusing Facebook and all the lovely people you know who took the time to wish you a happy birthday. And then you can talk on the phone with your friends. And after that you can go roller skating and not fall even once! But afterwards while you're watching The Bachelor special, your legs start feeling a little weird because roller skating is something that you don't really do... ever.

What I'm trying to say, Blog, is that I had a really great birthday today. And I didn't drink any alcohol whatsoever! That makes me sound like a lush, doesn't it. But let's face it, Blog. I'm usually going to have a drink of some sort when there is cause for celebration. Being an adult is fun, but doing kid things (like an impromptu foot race across a roller skating rink) can also be fun.

So now I'm in the last year of my twenties. Frankly, they've been all over the place. I've earned a bachelors degree, and have moved from what I once thought was a city (that would be Bemidji) to Minneapolis. I stumbled through three long-term relationships only to continue to stumble through dating. I've gotten stuck in an office job, yet traveled to more countries than I could have ever imagined (I've never imagined traveling to vast amounts of countries, for the record, it's been like 6). I've shunned playing music for years only to join a band within the last six months. I feel like I've figured it out over and over again and now am realizing I probably never will. I can only do what I want to do to the best of my abilities, which are growing because I've putzed around so much in my twenties. I guess that's what they're for. To one more year of putzing! Then shit gets real.

Putzing = Overly Posed Skating


Friday, February 1, 2013

Hello Visitors!

Blog! We're hanging out two days in a row?! What is this nonsense? I'll tell you what it is. Lately I've been on a coffee house kick. I'm finding it to be a good way to get out of the hotel and get to know my surroundings a bit. Since tonight is Friday, I thought about trying my hand at stepping it up a notch and perusing a local bar for a glass of wine, but Charlotte is a big city, Blog. There is a part of me that doesn't want to misstep and end up at the weird bar where all the douches go. And again, Charlotte is a big city. Looking at all my options of where to go became overwhelming and when I saw that there was a Caribou just a few miles from where we're staying, I decided to hole up in a corner with this song in my ears (I'm into making myself sad with music, ok?).

Anyway, as you know Blog, I've started to post links to you on Facebook whenever I write. This is a huge step for me in my blogging experience since for years I've been incredibly aloof with anything I write. I've always written on the internet about my life (well, since 2006 anyway), but have never really let people know about it. Just before I left for tour, I decided to be a little bit bolder with you and cleaned you up to the best of my abilities so more than just me and the three other people who know about you could read you at will. I'm realizing now that there is a chance I might be writing for an actual audience... well, one that is made up of tens of people since last night's post appears to have gotten a whopping (by my standards) 40 views. I don't think I read what I wrote 40 times, so I'm going to assume we've had a few visitors.

I think we should acknowledge our new friends, Blog, since you are just an internet entity that I have personified with whatever ramblings that come out of my fingertips, and those who visit us are actual people with souls and jobs and stuff. So thank you for hanging out with Blog and I, visitors! We hope that you make us a regular part of your internet adventures. I also hope you don't mind that I basically have made Blog into the equivalent of an invisible friend. If you want to learn more about where I'm coming from on the whole thing, you can always check out my About Blog and I page.

Back to coffee-housing. There is a lively card game happening over yonder. Who knew a Caribou would be such a hopping place on a Friday night?