Blogkward

I had a show tonight and couldn’t watch the debate, so I have nothing to say about it (except from what I’ve drawn from reading analysis: that it was a good one, and almost a draw, but still with Obama coming out ahead).

So in lieu of a comment, I present to and urge you to visit this website/watch the video:

“The Great Schlep”

Mazel tov!

I’m so relieved.

But a fan isn’t:

“This is really shocking news as I had no idea he was gay,” read a comment posted by “Sheridansq.” “And now I have to deal with this. I am not sure what to say to people who know I was a fan. … I didn’t go to work today and am not answering the telephone.”

Sigh. It’s really sad, sometimes. The world. And the people in it. Just . . . sad. I don’t really need to say anything else.

Eatin’ some hummus.

Eatin’ sum hummous.

Hey you guys, I’m eatin’ some hoummmmouououuuus.

Watchin’ The Holiday

Hey, why not!?

I’m gonna watch The Holiday, yop!

That’s all, I guess. That and I have a little hair that always grows in on my chin. And it’s time to pluck it out.

For our six-month “half-aversary,” Austin gave me a beautiful necklace and a kick-ass haircut at Streets of London. I gave him . . . a backrub, maybe. So for a two-month belated gift, and because we both decided it would be swell to get the “f” out of the city for a night, we’re headed to - where else? - Galena, duh.

I’ve only driven through, at best, but it seems to be exactly what we need - a trees and night sky and fireplaces and things. We’ll be staying here:

In “Amy’s Suite”:

Nice, huh? It’s a B&B, so we get the whole breakfast treatment in the wee hours of the morning. Like, 8:30 wee. I know. It’s awful. ::winking smiley::

I’ll have to get my tires rotated before we go. Ol’ My Bonnie Kate hasn’t driven that far in over a year.

Pee Ess, we’re not spending the first week of Xanadu rehearsals in New York anymore. Since the show is “skating off Broadway” on Sunday, the 12th, things have been moved around and what-not and they’re taking the set to LaJolla that following Monday. So I d’no what’s going on. All I know is that I’m pissed off that I can’t go see Legally Blonde.

I subscribe to this e-newsletter about new happenings/products/restaurants around Chicago called Thrillist. Sometimes it interests me, but usually it caters to people who like bling or who would like to wear bling or have the kind of money to purchase bling but blow it on expensive booze. Today’s newsletter advertises these really gorgeous wallets - and I actually may consider snagging one, but not because of their intro paragraph:

“Everyone agrees that the most beautiful thing in the world is money — so doesn’t it make sense that you stash your money in a beautiful thing? Slide your cash into a Poketo wallet, just in at the Museum of Contemporary Art.”

Eek. I hope to God they’re being ironic in that statement. Something tells me they’re not.

You wanna know what is the most beautiful thing in the world? Sitting alone at my house in Oswego with all the windows open next to a burning pumpkin-scented candle, sipping a cup of coffee my mom brewed for me. Ahh. I’m trying to take in all the pleasures of fall while I still can. I’m here to pick up my brand new four-piece luggage set my mom got me (thanks, Mom!) to take to New York/California, and to rip her copy of the Xanadu OBC Recording (thanks, Mom!), and to squelch a little gas money (thanks, Dave! Mom slid me the gas card, happy birthday!) Oh, and to give my stepdad a hearty “Happy Fiftieth” in person. He’s cranky about it because apparently he’s old now. He won’t open any of his birthday cards. I don’t see the big deal, but then again, I have twenty-seven years to develop a different opinion on the big five-oh.

Happy fall.

I got it. Xanadu.

After all of that, I actually got it.

This means:

1) Tomorrow I am going to the Helen Hayes theatre for a skating lesson.

2) I come back to New York October 6th to rehearse for a week.

3) Then we go to the LaJolla Playhouse in California until December 31st.

4) We come back to Chicago for an open-ended run at Drury Lane Water Tower . . . which opens on January 16th. My birthday. I have a six-month contract (which I’m assuming could be renewed if they like me and all that).

5) I get my Equity card.

6) I can stop stressing about money for a while.

So effing excited. I just knew, I just knew it was mine. It had to be. There was no other option. Whew. Man. Amazing. Oh, right - I’m the cover for Kira (the lead) and the swing for a couple ensemble ladies. Continuing to make my living as an understudy, holla!

AH! This is great. I’m trying not to think about how much I’m going to miss Austin and my apartment and Christmas and Thanksgiving and Halloween. But, you know. I will fly Austin to me whenever I want, and my apartment will be waiting for me when I get back, and . . . well, it might be interesting to experience Christmas on a beach in southern California. I’ve never even really been to California. Well, I went to California when I was 18 months old. Oh my God, I can go to Disney Land. AH!

Wow. Man. Thank the Lord.

. . . never saw my new apartment.

Welcome!

Up the stairs . . .

The hallway, with the awesome Coca Cola decorative piece Julia found at a GARAGE sale for $3.

Into the living room . . .

And the “boudoir” . . .

And into the dining room . . .

(a table is on its way)

Selling point:

Kitchen!

Back porch . . .

And back yard:

I almost forgot about my room, doy!

Hooge closet, yish.

Oh. And the bathroom!

The shower curtain rod is curved, and the shower head is like bathing in a private rain.

And it all smells as pretty as it looks. My roommate is the lovliest of lovely, the area is loveliest of lovely. This is just . . . heaven. Yes.

Man! I’m gonna get what I want! I hope! I was like, “Yo, dude, I need some money.” And my dad gave me a “Congrats on your first big show” card with a check for $100. And I was like, “Aw, naw!” And he was like, “Yeah.”

And then, then, then:

Xanadu called. The audition is on the 7th. I cried again because it meant I couldn’t go. Thursday morning I became extra, extra bummed about it after talking to my mom (”I just don’t understand! Don’t they understand it’s a third callback, not just some audition? Tell them that, Tiff!”), and I was all Driving Miss Depression on my way to Drury Lane for a matinee. As I walked through the stage door, prepared to sulk my way through the day, Tom-the-Stage-Manager pointed at me, then pointed to the other side of the room - there stood Bill, the Artistic Director. He summoned me.

“Did you go to New York?”

“No, it would be on Sunday, the 7th.”

“They’re seeing people on a Sunday?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird.”

A sigh. “And what is this for, Jersey Boys?”

“No, Xanadu, the one that goes to LaJolla and then Water Tower.”

” . . . okay. I’ll talk to Kyle again. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll at least talk to him again and see what we can do.”

I couldn’t believe it! The Man does work for you sometimes, you know? What a complete surprise.
And after the second show that night, I received word that I had been given permission to go to New York.

I have, have, have, have, HAVE to get it now.

This story is very much like Sierra Boggess’ journey to The Little Mermaid. She was doing Phantom in Vegas when they wanted her to fly out to New York - at her expense - to be seen again for Ariel. She almost didn’t go, but then decided to go along with it, since it seemed promising. She got herself a pair of heelies and wheeled herself around her dressing room. Today, I went and bought myself a pair of roller skates, and I plan on wheeling myself around the parking lot between shows.

I bring this up because . . . well, I didn’t know her very well when she went to Millikin, but I’ve always noticed little sort of  parallels between my path and hers. My first show at Millikin was a PipeDream (a student written/directed project). I played “Girl,” which was a character . . . . “based on Sierra” - meaning “the guy that wrote this show hated Sierra and wanted to tell the entire theatre department in a not-so-subtle performance piece entitled ‘Vignettes.’” So naturally, after that fiasco (there was a slight uproar after the performance), I never really had a chance to get to talk to her without feeling awkward. But anyhoo. The show I did after that was Guys and Dolls with Decatur’s community theatre (shh, I know). I played Sarah Brown; Sierra played Sarah Brown at Millikin. That year I went to school with her she was dating a tall, dark, handsome man - as was I. Blah blah blah. The POINT is that we all know where she is now, and so I’m taking it as a sign that I’ll be in LaJolla a month and a half from now having a gay old time living it up with significantly less financial woes.

Note: the only pair of roller skates I could find were at Play it Again Sports in Oswego, and they are roller derby skates. These are different from the kind of skates you’d wear at a roller rink - they’re made for speed. They only go up to your ankle, and the wheels are wide and have sharp edges. I learned the hard way that these kind of skates are nearly impossible for spins and going backwards. Looks like a trip to the rink is in order. I think Lombard Roller Rink has live organ music on Monday nights . . .

So, quite a bit has been going on. I’m sorry.

A) My “big show” opened, to mostly rave reviews. The only not-so-rave review was arguably the most important one: Chris Jones of the Chicago Tribune:

Stylistic unity took a back seat. One minute, vaudeville confusion ruled the roost and raunchy ditties such as “Sing for your Supper” (”Trilling makes a fellow willing/so little swallow, swallow now”) prevailed. The next, an audience could swoon to the bittersweet waltz “Falling in Love With Love” or the glamorously sophisticated “This Can’t Be Love.” . . .

. . . It doesn’t work quite as well because Bell is dealing with a hybrid source. So the updating feels like it comes and goes. Still, for fans of revisionist takes on classic musical, it’s a cool concept . . .

. . . Overall, the execution is a notch below the concept, and it never feels as if the performers fully inhabit the roles or completely deliver the show to the audience. It looked on Saturday like the show had taken a toll on the mostly young, 27-strong cast. Original lead Tim Gregory, injured in rehearsal, was replaced before opening with Ryan Reilly, promising but not quite ready. Someone else sported a Band-Aid on the nose. And although a charming actress, the ingenue Tiffany Topol (as Luciana) was still struggling with pitch.

So, bah. And he’s right, and it’s been frustrating, but I think it’s getting better. Now that the shock of performing a lead in a big theater in a big show has passed, I can remember to breathe again - literally. I’m not, not, NOT pitchy by nature, and I have a really great ear, so this has all been a maddening shock to me. But I’m fixing it.

Besides, every other review has been fantastic. All have commended the energy and talent of the ensemble and dancing, all have complimented David Bell’s virtuosity in directing crazy slapstick and hilarious antics, and dare I mention that there have even been some nice things written just for me. I think the Sun Times mentioned me among other actors as doing “exuberant work,” the Daily Herald called me “very appealing,” and Center Stage said something like, “A welcome newcomer is Tiffany Topol, who looks, sings, and dances like a young Mitzi Gaynor. She is excellent as Adriana’s younger sister, Luciana.” Hoorah! Somebody be my agent, now! Am I making buckets of money yet? (The answer is no. In case you were wondering).
Plus, I’m going to get back into voice lessons in the next couple of weeks, thank BaJeezus. I need it, and my mom agrees, so she’s going to help me out with the financial aspect of it. Bless her. I’ll be studying with Roberta Duchak, who I knew for a short while when she served as musical director for the production of The Wizard of Oz I understudied about a year ago. She comes very highly recommended by the person whom I would almost describe as mymentor, so I’m excited.

I’m also moving. It’s been a really arduous process, but I think it’s finally going to work out. But until my shit is in that new, beautiful apartment and my sublettor’s shit is in MY apartment, I cannot be at peace. I FINALLY got a hold of my landlord, whom I’ve never met since our old landlord sold our building. He’s supposed to be faxing paperwork, and it hasn’t come yet, so I have a whole new thing about which I can stress. Great.
Again. Forgetting to breathe seems to be a recurring theme. Last night I had a dream that my nose kept closing up and I couldn’t breathe and I kept having to suck in oxygen from a mask. Every three minutes or so. It was so frustrating. If that isn’t telling . . .

On top of it all, Xanadu called me again. They want me to come to New York for a third-ish callback. Wonderful, wonderful, amazing, and my mother is even going to pay for the plane ticket (again, bless her). They’re thinking about holding the callback on Sunday, September 7th, or Monday the 8th. If it’s the 8th - great! I’ll fly in at 6 am, sing and dance and rollerskate, and then spend the next couple of days drinking cheap wine and making ridiculous videos with Jen Muddafuggin’ Tullock. However, if it’s on Sunday, the 7th . . . I can’t go. The powers that be will not let me miss shows on Sunday for the sake of an audition. I cried when they told me that.

It’s just that I had given up on getting that job, one that I wanted so badly, and then suddenly they called me and doors and windows flew open and angels sang and I ran up the stairs like Rocky. And it seems so close, and I want it so badly, and I’m sick of being so financially unstable, and I just . . . yeah. I want to keep moving up. Not that I’ll be rollin’ in it (pardon the pun) if I get cast in Xanadu, but it’s a substantial pay raise from what I’m making now. Especially if I can go Equity. These are things that I want. I also want to go to California for two months.

Oh, speaking of leaving . . . Austin is no longer doing that. He’s staying in Chicago! He got cast in a very sizeable role in Pen at Apple Tree Theatre (starring Hollis Resnick, eight-time Jeff Award winner and Chicago musical theatre staple - it’s a three person show, and he’ll be playing her son), and he decided to take the role rather than heading off to Montana for the better part of the fall/winter. Let me state it publicly: I am extraordinary proud of him, and I know it’s a scary decision and he’s incredibly brave and wonderful and I can’t wait to see the show/what happens to his life. Talented bastard. MY talented bastard!

The day he told me he was staying was the day I received the Xanadu call. I laughed. I’d be gone from mid-October until January 1st, just about the same time he WOULD have been gone. It’s okay. If I get the job, no doubt I’ll fly him out to LaJolla. Twice.