In defense of "Deranged Sorority Email" Writer

Part of my daily activity these days, is to take Charlie, our new(ish) puppy out into the fenced off garden in the backyard and let him run like a wild man for a while. I usually take him out there, weather permitting, for about 20 or 30 minutes in the morning and about an hour in the afternoon. Since there's wireless access back there, I usually take my computer or iPad and read or write or just mess around for a while. Which brings me to Saturday. I was trying to kill some time until the televised Alabama spring football game started. And then, I got an email from my friend, Taylor that read, "Have you seen this yet?" with a link.

This link.

I started out in open-mouthed disbelief, but I have to admit that by the end, I was laughing so hard that Charlie was trying to climb into my lap to see what all the brouhaha was about.

Because that was the funniest thing I've seen in FOREVER.

I want to start out by saying that the language she uses is COMPLETELY inappropriate. Not to mention that she uses both "retarded" and a gay slur as perjoratives. And that's not okay at all. And in fact, her now deleted Twitter posts (screen-capped here before someone, I'm assuming her, took them down) make her seem like a snotty, hateful piece of work. But then, I had to ask myself, if you took all of my Facebook statuses and Twitter posts out of context and you didn't know me, you might think that I was a snotty, hateful piece of work, too. I've made fun of peoples' tragic fashion choices and Senior day at the grocery store and my complete inability to convey ANY information to our Polish-speaking housecleaning ladies. Plus, I talk about General Hospital an awful lot, so that makes me look even MORE clever. And it could be that she IS a snotty, hateful piece of work.

That said, the original email is EXTREMELY well-written. I mean, it is some SERIOUSLY well-constructed prose. And, if I'm being honest about my opinion...she, well...she kind of has a point. When I, through tears of HYSTERICAL laughter posted the original Gawker link on Facebook, my friend, Donya, almost IMMEDIATELY replied, "Oh, the times that I thought this." In fact, I've had several friends who agreed, not with the way the point was made, but the point this woman was trying to make.

You see, I went to a big state school with arguably, the most powerful on-campus Greek system in the country. A Greek system of which I was a part. So, admittedly, I'm coming at this from a different, and possibly skewed perspective. But later on the same day that I read the email, I overheard people talking about it and realized that without the filter of knowing how sororities and fraternities and big universities and Greek Weeks work, it's impossible to grasp what's actually going down here.

I've seen a lot of comments about this incident on the internet and heard some in real life, so first, I should explain what Greek Week is and how it works. Yes, there are lots of parties. But no, that's not what it's necessarily about. What generally happens in Greek Week is that a sorority is paired with a fraternity (in my personal experience, sororities often had more than one fraternity partner because fraternities are smaller and there are more of them). Sometimes it was a fraternity where you knew a lot of the guys and a lot of the sorority members dated someone from that house. And sometimes it wasn't. Which is kind of the point. Throughout the week there are organized events involving all Greek houses on campus AND smaller events and parties organized by a particular sorority or fraternity for their Greek Week partner. It's about interacting with the entire community of Greek houses. It's about meeting new people. And it's about fun and friendly competition. When she's talking about cheering for the sports events, she means that there are intramural sports--soccer, flag football, softball--and the winning team gets points. At the end of Greek Week they add up all of the points you've won--for the sports, for spirit events like parties where you get points for how many members attend, for money raised in philanthropy events-- and the winning "team" gets money to donate to their particular philanthropy. Plus, you meet people, so that when your sorority does a charity basketball tournament, or a 5K race or hosts a BBQ dinner to raise money for your particular philanthropy, the people you've met during Greek Week will show up and buy tickets or enter the race or whatever.

My point is, that all of the people who think that this woman is telling the members of her chapter to hook up with Sigma Nus...that's not it. What she's ranting (in an admittedly hysterical manner) about is showing a basic degree of social skills, or really less than that...she's asking them to refrain from being out and out RUDE to their hosts. College-aged women should not need to be told that if you are at John's party, you shouldn't be talking about how you're going to leave and go to Bob's party later. It's rude as hell. And she isn't telling them to hook up with the guys when they're at the party. She's asking that they be sociable and conversational to their hosts. I mean, SERIOUSLY...when I was 11 I had a birthday party and all of the popular girls from my class showed up and clumped together and talked only to each other which was completely awkward for me and all of the other girls who were there who were NOT in my class. In other words, these adult women are going to a party and acting like the snotty, popular girls from my ELEMENTARY SCHOOL CLASS. And she's not asking them to get drunk and party...she's calling them out for claiming that they are ONLY comfortable when they're drunk. She's asking them to cheer for their team in the Greek Week sporting events. She's asking them exhibit behavior that will probably be useful and necessary later in life and careers--making nice at parties, being enthusiastic about things you might not care that much about, doing something you don't necessarily love to do. I may be completely in the wrong, but I consider these things to be LIFE skills. Not sorority skills or college skills.

The thing is, unless you were one of those girls who was doing the weird or dumb stuff in college, then I think that my friend, Donya, is correct: You HAVE felt like this at some point. Especially if you were an officer or in charge of something that was going to shit. Now, granted, I never sent a profanity-laced email (mainly because this was, for the most part, pre email) but I can think of two specific times when I was part of a "Seriously, ladies, get your shit together" movement. The first involved most of the Little Sisters of my close circle of friends (although, I'm happy to say, neither of MY Littles). We were sophomores, they were freshmen and we walked into the first big party of the year to find the whole group of them sloppy drunk from pre-gaming with Jaegermeister. I'm talking falling down, throwing up in trash cans DRUNK. This necessitated us dragging them out of the party, driving them back to the dorm and making sure that they got to their rooms/beds safely, which means that we missed a huge chunk of an awesome party because they didn't know how to act--and I had to to take charge of one of the fools whose actual Big wasn't there that night. Which meant that the next day, we pulled them all into one of our rooms at the sorority house and read them the riot act about their behavior. In a completely different kind of situation, my best friend and roommate was the scholarship chair for two years, one of which I was the assistant chair, so we would have this big printout of all of the GPAs at the end of the semester and I would watch Liz--who is the sweetest, most reasonable lady in the world--FREAK OUT as we went over the GPAs. She totally understood that you could have a bad semester and end up with a 2.5. But neither of us could ever figure out how people managed to come up with a 0.2, or worse an actual buckshot (the infamous 0.0). Which usually meant at the next chapter meeting she was going to stand up and read everyone the riot act for attempting to flunk out of college on her watch. I mean, I remember any number of late-night TV room conversations that revolved around, "How Hard Is It for People to Brush Their Hair and Put on Decent Clothes When We Have a Swap/Mixer." (Or put on shoes to answer the door, or not give the door code to your psycho ex-boyfriend, act like you've actually been to a publicly-held event of any kind--there were many of these conversations).

I want to stress this: The girl who sent this email. She was wrong. She freaked out. She said things in a completely inappropriate manner and she pretty much epitomizes why you should wait 12 hours after writing an angry email before you hit send. She comes across as completely crazy and out of control. Her Twitter postings seem to back that up. In spite of all that, I agree with the spirit, if not the application thereof. I also want to point out that whichever member of her chapter made the email public was also wrong. Yes, this girl went around the bend and made a huge, hateful mistake. There are, however, any number of ways to handle it. I'm talking ways within the bylaws of the chapter itself and the national sorority as a whole. Instead, some member of her sorority chose to make it public in a way that could potentially be damaging to the email writer for the rest of her career and life. And that's not cool. Sororities have internal judicial mechanisms for handling poor behavior of members. The consequences can range from social probation to expulsion from the organization. Outside of that, all collegiate chapters have an alumni advisor or an entire panel of almnae who oversee the chapter's operation. And even beyond that there's each sororities national office to whom a collegiate member could go. The point being, there was more than one wrong here.

And on a lighter note, there are now a couple of performance art pieces is what I would call them, I guess, of actors reading the email. I admit to being easily amused. I laughed 'til I hurt at these.



and here's a link to a possibly even more hilarious reading by Michael Shannon.

I feel like my life is swallowing me whole.

So, you know how sometimes you're having a casual conversation with someone. Maybe someone you see all the time, but that you don't really know. I'm going to use this example (although it wasn't the person with whom I had the conversation): Let's say that you're in Starbucks and you're in there a lot and they know you and they're like, "Oh, hey, Sally, how's it going?" and you're like, "Oh, you know. Super busy right now." and then they're like, "But that's good. Busy is good." And I get it. I totally do. No one WANTS to be bored, right? But sometimes there are periods where you're thinking to yourself, "Just an hour. I want just an hour where even if I'm not doing anything, I'm not thinking about the approximately 5 thrillion things that I need to be doing or appointments I have or meetings or whatever." And that's me right now. Now let me be fair...it's my own doing. I'm really involved with local theater. To the point where I have gone almost back-to-back working on shows in some capacity since last September. Tech, crew, performing...it's been a whirlwind, culminating in the period from January to the second week in March where I was in preparation for THREE shows at once. I'm down to one. And only one more weekend of that, to boot. But between the shows, and a spring that just can't seem to get here and stay, and a new puppy (I haven't slept past 7 a.m. in almost two months), AND attempting to do a massive household clean out/reorganization (and thanks to the Lupus Foundation of America for coming to pick up two black garbage bags FULL of clothes), I really, really, really feel fried right now.

Plus, I'm going through this whole thing where I'm trying to, well, to put it simply...figure shit out and get my shit together. I think, and this could just be the wonky weather and the general chaos of my life, that I'm at a crossroads. Maybe. I don't know what kind. Right now it feels like all kinds of things are in flux--on the verge of changing, in the process of changing, stagnant but NEED to change. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm in West Side Story and about to bust out into a chorus of "Something's Coming." Although I'm pretty sure my something isn't a dance-fueled gang war. I just have to figure out WHAT it is.

So that's the reason, or at least part of it, for my extended absence. It's not an excuse. Because there have been plenty of times when I've actually written something (in Word, not on the blog) and then not had the wherewithal to post it. And also of plenty of times when I thought, "I want to do a blog post about that." and then didn't. As well as times when I just sat doing absolutely NADA--not writing, not thinking about writing, not thinking about ANYTHING.

But like, I said...at a crossroads, I think. We'll see.

In My Closet--February 14, 2013

Dress: Lilly Pulitzer (older)
Tights: Spanx
Shoes: MIA (from DSW)(older)

First of all, please excuse the pile of hanging clothes stacked behind me. That is every shirt I own that's not a t-shirt. It was all part of the Great Closet Reorganization of 2013. Fear not...I fit everything back in there. Now, that's not to say it's not packed so tight that you pull out the two items on either side of what you're aiming to pull. But for now, it's gonna have to do. That said, I had this "Trying to Go to Sleep" epiphany last night about something that MIGHT work to alleviate part of the problem. It would involve a trip to Goodwill/Red, White and Blue, some Pinterest-y craftiness and a complete Soviet-era Re-Education as to what's allowed to be folded and what simply MUST be on hangers. I'm actually kind of excited about it to tell you the truth.

Anyway, yesterday, I mentioned that I had lost something. Other than my mind and my patience. Back in the late spring, there were still a few things in my closet that were winter-y. I guess they would be termed "transitional pieces". All the rest of my winter stuff--and I mean the REAL winter stuff like cords and wools--had long since been packed into Rubbermaid tubs with cedar blocks and stored away. But these things, I had left on the off-chance that the sometimes persnickety New Jersey weather took a turn. Only last spring, it never really did and so when it became clear that summer was really gonna happen, I took the clothes and put them, to the best of my memory, in a Kate Spade shopping bag, which I stuck in the corner of my room. The idea was that at some point, I would go into the attic for something else and at that point I could take the bag up and put it in the Rubbermaids with the rest of my stuff. Only...I don't remember doing that. And now I can't find the bag. I can't even remember what all is IN the bag, although I know off the top of my head three pieces of clothing that I cannot find anywhere. I know they aren't things I would have loaned to friends. I know they aren't things I would have sent to a better home. I wouldn't have even sent them away on accident, at least not in the Kate Spade bag, because that thing was HUGE and pretty sturdy, so I would have swapped it into a different bag. This is driving me BONKERS. I have looked everywhere in the house I can even begin to imagine I would have put it. Admittedly, the cold has made me reluctant to do more than a cursory search of the attic or the under-the-deck storage room, and if it's gotten lost or misplaced or picked up and thrown out because someone thought it was in the discard pile? Well, that's my fault and I can live with it. But LORD it is making me NUTS. Okay...it's making me nuttier.

So, when I post the pictures of myself, they are a day behind. What I mean is that I take a picture every day, but I don't USE that picture until the next day. What I'm really hoping is that I can post on Monday through Friday, but I'm ALSO hoping that I can grab a picture or two on the weekends (like this weekend? I'm going to NYC for brunch with one of my best friends so I'm going to need to look awesome.). That way, if I have a day where I'm cleaning closets and never leaving the house, I don't have to get dressed beyond yoga pants. Well...yoga pants and a shirt.

Here's what I like about what I'm wearing in the picture. Obviously, I like the Spanx tights. If you've never had a pair, they are a revelation. They're not as tight as actual Spanx, but the are definitely tighter than these amazing pantyhose my friend, Carrie, discovered in college that were super sheer in the leg but tighter than any control top known to man in the top and were known forever in the sorority house lore as "Suck 'Em In Pantyhose". They take away any number of bumps and lumps. The dress is an oddity in that of all the Lilly Pulitzer I own, it's one of exactly two Lilly pieces I own that's not ferociously summer season. The other is a cord skirt that's so old that it's got the 1990s tag with the Lilly logo in black. We have Lilly Pulitzer Signature store right in Palmer Square in Princeton. It's called Palm Place and it's absolutely lovely, as are the couple who own it. They have an incredible sale in August and pretty good ones at other times of the year. I got this dress--you can't see in the picture, but the pink part is pink high heels--right before Christmas before last when I was checking the sale rack to see if there was a dress for my niece's gift and ended up wearing it to my family Christmas party. It was actually in the pile of stuff to go in the Lost Kate Spade Shopping Bag when I decided to pull it out to wear over the summer and I ended up wearing it a couple of times, with a pair of sandals on days when the temperature dipped down into the 70s. But the real find is those shoes. I got them at DSW over a year ago to wear with one specific outfit and I have ended up wearing them over and over and over with EVERYTHING. It took me a while to get the hang of the wedge-heeled booties but once I figured out that it was okay to wear them with something other than jeans, they've become my shoe of choice. I got another pair of MIA wedge booties this fall in brown and I've worn the hell outta them, too.

In other news...I tried a different approach to the whole picture thing today for the picture you will see tomorrow. Part of that was out of necessity--everything I did today took longer than it should have in a sane world so by the time I stopped long enough to do it, it was so dark that I got NOTHING from my window (the easiest way to explain this is that my window looks, not outside, but into a small sunroom that's an addition to the house.) and partly because I wanted to see if this might be a better approach. And yes, this was one of the more exciting parts of my Valentine's Day. But for those of you who had awesome Valentine-y stuff going on--I hope it was great. And if you're STILL having awesome stuff going on--I hope it's STILL great. Happy Valentine's (or Single Person Awareness) Day!

In My Closet--February 13, 2013

Tunic: Anthropologie (old)
T-shirt: Gap
Leggings: Lulu Lemon
Boots: Frye

Okay, I'm going to have to complain about a First World Problem. I have too many clothes. There. I said it. And really the first step is admitting you have a problem, right? I love nothing more than trawling a consignment shop or thrift store. And here's where I admit to being an even worse person. I'm not looking for something cool that I can repurpose and make super hip. I just want...clothes. Sometimes I'm absolutely FLOORED by what I find: 2 pairs of Nanette Lepore pants, a Lilly halter-neck top with the tags still on it, a vintage Black Watch plaid Laura Ashley dress with a velvet collar. And those are from THRIFT STORES, not consignment shops. Anyway...maybe it's just me, but if I find a pair of Nanette Lepore pants for $3.99, well, they're coming to live in my closet whether I need pants or not. And I don't. Need pants, that is. What I need is closet.

I actually have two closets in my room. One is composed completely of shelves. Which sounds like it would be awesome. And on the surface it is. You can get some SERIOUS shit done with a (albeit single) closet with shelves--it's like Shoe Heaven in there. The problem is that the shelves mean the closet space isn't utilized correctly. They're VERY deep, so whatever you put on them has to be right on the front edge. This particular problem is compounded by the fact that there's no light in the closet. At all. I've put some of those little tap lights in, but the cavernous depths are barely thwarted by their meager light. The other closet is a double closet. It's got one of those design-it-yourself built ins. It's divided into approximate thirds--one-third for long hanging clothes, one-third is shelves and three drawers and one-third is a top and bottom hanging bar. This doesn't sound like a bad gig, right? The problem is, I don't have a chest of drawers in my room (and there's no place to put one if I did). This means that all of my folded clothes have to fit into three drawers, three shelves and the two smaller drawers in my bedside table. Not only that, there are two huge pipes in the section of the closet with the stacked hanging bars, which SERIOUSLY cuts into the available hanging space. I've moved stuff around every single way I can think of and I'm still not making it work. I am a closet failure. (Here's the part where I admit I'm closet spoiled. By the time I was REALLY into clothes in upper elementary school, I had a huge bedroom with a gigantic chest of drawers and a double closet, plus free reign of the coat closet in our playroom. My first apartment had a big ol' walk-in and my first place of my own? I lived alone. ALL the closets in the house were mine.) I'm GOING to figure this out. I refuse to be defeated by my own clothing.

I guess I need to stop obsessing and discuss the clothes, I've taken out of the tragic closet and put on, huh? Since this has gotten all confessional, I should tell you that I'm not wearing the bracelets that I usually wear with this tunic top because I couldn't find them. Why? Because in the midst of the great closet re-org which was happening sometime between soap opera and dinner time, I picked up my pink summer Kate Spade bucket bag and realized that I had put it away with stuff in it. Stuff included my square lime earrings, three pens, my Burt's Bees travel-sized hand cream, about five dollars in quarters, a tube of Clinique Black Honey lipstick and the bracelets that go with the tunic. Now considering that I would never have carried a cotton candy pink purse with that top? I have no clue how they got there. I'm just glad I found them (speaking of...lost items are my next topic. Tune in tomorrow.) What I REALLY wanted to share with the world is about investment pieces. Now, when the fashion magazines talk about "investment pieces" the mean things like Birkin bags and fur coats and Chanel ballet flats. And I would consider those things to be investments for sure. But not being independently wealthy, I have a different standard for investment pieces. The Frye Melissa Button Boots and the Lulu Lemon leggings. Y'all both of those items are SO worth it. To the point that I now have a second pair of the same leggings in a capri length AND a pair that are reversible. And it wasn't that I got them because I was afraid the first ones would wear out--they are seriously good quality pieces. I got them because I want to wear them every day and I didn't want to have to keep doing laundry. And the bonus is that if you get yours in a Lulu Lemon store? They will hem those bad boys for you free of charge. The boots...oh, how I love them. Especially since Frye makes them with extended calves (which is my all-time biggest rant subject). They're pricey, but so, so worth it. Treat yourself. You shall not be sorry.

In My Closet--Monday, February 11, 2013

Shirt: Old Navy (old)
Skirt: Gap (old)
Tights: Target
Boots: Frye (from Zappos)
Scarf: gift

I follow a bunch of blogs where the writer takes a daily (or something like that) picture or series of pictures, and talks about what she's wearing or fashion in general or just posts the picture and is like, "Bitches, this is how fabulous I look today." My favorite is Kendie Everyday, because she's funny and seems like real people and is wearing things that are pretty darn reasonable in the human world in which the rest of us reside. Orchid Grey is a little more funky, style-wise and often features pieces that are thrifted. If you want to drool over things you can't begin to afford, there's Atlantic-Pacific. It's stunning, but when I say "high-end", I'm talking about Valentino-Chanel-MiuMiu-Jimmy Choo-Manolo kind of high-end. In any event, all enjoyable for different reasons. What they all have in common, other than endlessly entertaining me, is that they all seem to be in possession of damn good photographers--friends, husbands, boyfriends, kind strangers on the street. I don't know who does all of their pictures, but they're always fantastic. And then there's Katie's Closet, which has adorable (and reasonable outfits) and she takes the pictures herself, in a mirror, with her phone. Although, I'm gonna have to assume that she has a better phone and better lighting (My room is softly and dreamily lit. Not an overhead light fixture to be found.) than I. So until I acquire a better phone, better lighting, a way to set the camera up on the tripod so that I don't look like a deer in headlights or a talented photographer love interest...I'm going to experiment and see if I can find something that works. So, the point is please excuse the picture quality until I get this squirreled away, as it were.

A couple of weekends ago, I was out for dinner with my friends, Katie and Laurie. We were on our way to see a friend's show and we were talking about Katie's forthcoming headshot appointment. And of course, since this was a conversation amongst girlfriends, it eventually turned to wardrobe. We had a little bit of discussion about color and style and I told Katie some of the things I thought she should wear. The next week, after Katie's shoot, she sends me a Facebook message that said, "The stylist at the photoshoot said you were exactly right and you must really know your stuff. Hell, while we were talking about it at the restaurant, Laurie said that she wished I would just come to her closet and show her what goes with what. This. This is the thing at which I excel. I can look at a piece and tell you what OTHER piece with which it needs to be paired. I also have a knack for looking at a jumble of stuff in the laundry and figuring out that two things which I never would have considered, should absolutely go together. Anyway, that would be a pretty awesome gig, right? I mean, it would be super to have it on a Rachel Zoe-level, I guess, but I find it ever so much more entertaining to look at someone's stuff and then pick out a few cool things from the sale room at Anthropologie or TJMaxx. But until I become independently wealthy and can boss people as to what they should wear at my leisure, I think we're gonna have to stick to this way. I'll take crappy pictures, tell you what I'm wearing, and then tell you WHY I'm wearing it.

At this point, I probably need some kind of twelve-step program over stripes. I would wear them every, single day. Although, when I think about that, it would make me seem like kind of a weirdo. Especially since the vast majority of my stripes are navy and white. I would look like a maniacal French sailor. The outfit that I'm wearing? It's one that if I didn't MAKE myself wear the other stuff in my closet from time to time, I would happily wear it every day. Is it kind of boring. Yep. It's pretty much all neutrals, not a color pop to be found. And sometimes, that's okay.

Normal? I don't do normal.

I think that I have lived pretty much every moment of my adult life at one of two speeds: full throttle or going in reverse. In other words, I always feel like I have way too much going on in my life, or I'm so bored that I could scream (or cry). It always shocks people who know me when I tell them that I consider myself to be shy. And I totally get why. If I know you, I'm outgoing and vivacious and I will talk to you for DAYS about pretty much anything. But if I don't? I'm a complete wallflower. This usually manifests itself as a tendency, when thrown into a group of people with whom I'm unfamiliar, to say as little as possible and kind of sink into the floor or my chair if possible. Part of this, especially since moving to New Jersey, has to do with me being self-conscious about my accent. Now in all fairness, I DO have an accent that is not the norm for these parts. Of course, for Sweet Home Alabama, my accent is pretty low key. Anyway, the point of that is to say that when I first moved to NJ seven years ago, I didn't know anybody. I didn't have friends who were already here. I didn't have acquaintances who were already here. Nothing, zip, nada. I think I spent the first three years (I DID have a good friend who moved to NYC my third summer here) staring at the wall. In other words...doing nothing.

So for quite a while, I was kind of on my own. I did get here right as football season was starting and I went into NYC to watch the games with the alumni association. The second year I was here, my sister was nearby and I did pretty much everything with her. It wasn't until the summer of 2009, when I had lived here for almost four years, that I dipped my toes back into the water of community theater. Theater has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember--first as a tiny audience member and then as a small performer and later an adult director/actor/costumer/crew/stage manager. In retrospect, it seems so odd to me. I didn't have any friends, y'all. For ALMOST FOUR YEARS.

I mean, obviously, I had friends. I had friends who came here to visit me and I talked on the phone to people all the time. But as far as a right here with me buddy? None. Which is why I am so, so grateful for discovering the theater community in this area. Y'all...I just want to take a minute to tell you that I have made some of the greatest friends a lady could hope to find. I'm talking about the kinds of friends who will talk you through a crisis, drive you to the airport, let you crash at their place when your power's out from a hurricane for six days and go get you medicine when you're too sick to drive to the pharmacy. I'm talking really awesome friends. And they're not just for crisis mode! There also good for lunch dates, shopping trips, movie nights...you name it, they do it.

That's the first thing I want to say. I have kick-ass friends.

The second thing that's buzzing about the noggin is that whole light-speed life vs. traveling backwards through time life. And it's related to the theater thing, because I think that the theater thing is causing me to experience the former, rather than the latter. I AM SO BUSY. And it's my own fault and I'm glad about everything I'm doing, but...geez.

First of all, I take an adult tap class. It's only the best adult tap class ever. I mean, I've taken an adult tap class before and it was fun, but it wasn't what I'd consider challenging. But this is awesome. It's SUPER fun and it's challenging my little feet right to the limit. Not only is it fun and I get good exercise and all that stuff...we are in the recital! Yep, that's right....come June, you can find me dancing to "It's Your Wedding Day" from The Wedding Singer while wearing an 80s formal dress and tap shoes. Please take a moment to enjoy the mental picture that brings.

THEN, back in December, I auditioned for Avenue Q which I didn't get cast in (we shall never, ever speak of my ineptitude at puppetry), but since I LOVE the company and everyone working on the show, I signed on to be their Assistant Stage Manager. Oh, and I'm also going to be in the ensemble of Legally Blonde (I'm going to have to do a ton of research to play...sorority girl and law student.). And then last week, because I'm a crappy auditioner who has approximately ZERO confidence, I auditioned for Cabaret to get some experience doing an audition for a role that is COMPLETELY out of my comfort zone, but doing it with a director with whom I'm completely comfortable. And then got cast as a part, well, completely out of my comfort zone and unlike ANY I've ever played (you'd be surprised at how rarely people look at me and say, "Yes. Nazi prostitute.").

Anyway, between dancing and ASMing and acting and acting...I am crazy busy. And it's kind of cool. Like a little test of myself to see how well I can handle a completely full plate. I will try to keep you updated. But like I said...freakishly busy. (I'm only here tonight because I skipped dance class 'cause I was feeling not sick, but icky...probably from exhaustion.)

Like you do....

I am pretty much the opposite of a stranger to weird occurrences and incidents of bizarre coincidence. I'm the only person I know who went to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular at the Fox in Atlanta and left the building as a dancer in a Reese Witherspoon movie. Okay, so it wasn't like I was in the audience and some talent scout just walked up and said, "You look to be a fabulous dancer." and I was cast. What actually happened was that one of the friends who was in the group knew the choreographer for Sweet Home Alabama and he hooked me up with her for the gig. There was also the time I moved to New Jersey and at the first rehearsal for the first community theater show I did here, I met my friend, Beverly. Meeting Bev wasn't weird. What was so odd was that after a few minutes of conversation we realize that her first cousin was one of my sorority sisters at the University of Alabama. And I mean we were there at the same time and knew each other and everything.

Bringing me to this past Thursday. Now, one of the things you need to know about me is that about a year ago, my friend, Judi, who does the lighting design at a lot of the shows at the theater where I perform, asked me if I was up to run the follow-spot for a production of Camelot. I figured, "Why not?". My dear friend, Katie, was in the show. And I had never worked with this particular theater group so it was a good chance to meet people. Since then, I've run follow-spot for two other shows and last weekend and this, I had agreed to run it for a production of Pippin. The other part of the story is that I was incredible busy last Thursday. There was the regular grocery and odds and ends stuff, plus three trips to put together two packages to take to FedEx AND I measured, cut, pinned and ironed a set of light-blocking curtains that were too long (which sounds easier than it is. The fabric is an absolutely enraging combo of heavy and slippery.). I also had an appointment with our frozen food delivery guy (which I'm trying to taper out of because I'm really moving away from processed food as much as I can and that stuff is practically concocted in a lab) and to facilitate that, I completely defrosted and cleaned the BIG basement deep freeze. And in the midst of that, had my voice lesson.

But I was excited, because I was the only one home on Thursday night. Which meant that I didn't have to cook anything and, if I so chose, could go to Wawa for dinner. And then I get a binging that someone is Facebook messaging me. And it's Judi. Because she is running lights for a concert that night and would I be interested in running follow-spot FOR 60s POP ICON AND FORMER MONKEE PETER TORK??!?!?

Y'all. It is official. I am now an assistant lighting engineer for a rock star.