Tidy Little Adventures
Well for those of you wondering how Les Miserables turned out, let's just say that I stand by my previous statement. This was a very ambitious undertaking for a small playhouse. It also turned out that the entire cast was students, so...well...it was especially ambitious. Some of it was impressive for such young players. Some of it was so hard to understand it was exhausting. In the end I got what I wanted out of it, that delicious rippling thrill of live theater and live song. I shivered with delight and even got a little teary, just like I always do, and then left at intermission.
AppleJack was kind. He didn't complain, though I know it must have been hard to follow the story. The woman sitting next to me wouldn't stop singing along, which normally wouldn't have bothered me, but it was already so hard to hear the cast that she further compromised the experience. I didn't pay to listen to her sing; I paid to listen to the performers rush through it so fast it sounded like gibberish! Plus, she laughed out loud every time they made a mistake, which was often. There was still plenty to like though, in spite of her redneck manners, such as getting to see such young performers embracing the craft so earnestly. I went home, had a cocktail, and moved on to other tidy little adventures with satisfaction that I got my $12 worth of entertainment out of it.
I gave away three Ugly Dolls as special limited edition adoptions over the holidays and this weekend was their first public excursion with their respective new families. I got to watch the hilarious and adorable pictures light up my cell phone one after the other after the other like an Ugly Doll godmother getting telegrams from all over the world. This never stops being fun for me; watching grown-ups embrace play again! In full view of other grown folks who don't get it! And then showcased worldwide on social media! Watching the Beautiful Ugly spread far and wide--sigh--it makes me feel as giddy and reckless as a redneck at a Broadway play! (Gasp! Bad Sassy!)
Other adventures this weekend included AppleJack passing his personal chef certification. Yep, it's true. I now have a personal chef at home. With the added benefit of a fresh set of credentials to go with my own opinion, I fully plan to rub this in at every opportunity. Be prepared for the excruciating detail of the fine dining that is/was/will be going on at The Jesus Crack House that can no longer be dismissed as Sassy's overblown gushing. Now it's certified.
I also got to see my dear friend and running buddy participate in the U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials along with the fastest women in the country and--as I said in my rant to the local newspaper reporter who discredited her performance--breathed, sweated, and cried along with her. It was a lifetime achievement to qualify for the Olympic Trials and run with our nation's elite whether she made the Olympic team or not. It literally took years just to qualify for the Trials--that effort alone was stellar!
Half a bajillion of our mutual friends and hometown fans made the trip to Houston to watch her run and the only idiot in the state who didn't think it was a brave and amazing feat to hold her own admirably among Olympians was the hometown reporter who implied that she was a failure. Oooooooo...Sassy mad!! Sassy smash!! Rooaaarrr!! Godzilla pooped his pants when Sassy read that tripe and started locking down cattle prods worldwide. Obviously dealing with this required changing into a different crown and magic wand--the kind that shoots flying monkeys out of a cannon and drops plagues of frogs and screech owls that can only scream "Asshole!" from the heavens. Failure? Considering the number of newspaper subscription cancelations to follow this feeble-minded stunt, failure is about to be redefined for at least one journalist in town.
I also tried buttermilk ice cream this weekend, sampled local honey, and rescued a set of vintage dolls with healthy body images from a thrift store to return my little world to unicorns and butterflies once again. Tra la la...tea and crumpets, rainbows and white cotton panties. This is going to be an interesting week. I can feel it. I am eagerly anticipating peering into my dirty magic tea cup first thing in the morning to see who has come to greet me. Of course, it will tickle me just as much if I get there and find nothing but an undefined blob. Sometimes magic tricks are exactly that--tricks! Goodnight readers.
(c) 2012, ACG
AppleJack was kind. He didn't complain, though I know it must have been hard to follow the story. The woman sitting next to me wouldn't stop singing along, which normally wouldn't have bothered me, but it was already so hard to hear the cast that she further compromised the experience. I didn't pay to listen to her sing; I paid to listen to the performers rush through it so fast it sounded like gibberish! Plus, she laughed out loud every time they made a mistake, which was often. There was still plenty to like though, in spite of her redneck manners, such as getting to see such young performers embracing the craft so earnestly. I went home, had a cocktail, and moved on to other tidy little adventures with satisfaction that I got my $12 worth of entertainment out of it.
I gave away three Ugly Dolls as special limited edition adoptions over the holidays and this weekend was their first public excursion with their respective new families. I got to watch the hilarious and adorable pictures light up my cell phone one after the other after the other like an Ugly Doll godmother getting telegrams from all over the world. This never stops being fun for me; watching grown-ups embrace play again! In full view of other grown folks who don't get it! And then showcased worldwide on social media! Watching the Beautiful Ugly spread far and wide--sigh--it makes me feel as giddy and reckless as a redneck at a Broadway play! (Gasp! Bad Sassy!)
Other adventures this weekend included AppleJack passing his personal chef certification. Yep, it's true. I now have a personal chef at home. With the added benefit of a fresh set of credentials to go with my own opinion, I fully plan to rub this in at every opportunity. Be prepared for the excruciating detail of the fine dining that is/was/will be going on at The Jesus Crack House that can no longer be dismissed as Sassy's overblown gushing. Now it's certified.
I also got to see my dear friend and running buddy participate in the U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials along with the fastest women in the country and--as I said in my rant to the local newspaper reporter who discredited her performance--breathed, sweated, and cried along with her. It was a lifetime achievement to qualify for the Olympic Trials and run with our nation's elite whether she made the Olympic team or not. It literally took years just to qualify for the Trials--that effort alone was stellar!
Half a bajillion of our mutual friends and hometown fans made the trip to Houston to watch her run and the only idiot in the state who didn't think it was a brave and amazing feat to hold her own admirably among Olympians was the hometown reporter who implied that she was a failure. Oooooooo...Sassy mad!! Sassy smash!! Rooaaarrr!! Godzilla pooped his pants when Sassy read that tripe and started locking down cattle prods worldwide. Obviously dealing with this required changing into a different crown and magic wand--the kind that shoots flying monkeys out of a cannon and drops plagues of frogs and screech owls that can only scream "Asshole!" from the heavens. Failure? Considering the number of newspaper subscription cancelations to follow this feeble-minded stunt, failure is about to be redefined for at least one journalist in town.
I also tried buttermilk ice cream this weekend, sampled local honey, and rescued a set of vintage dolls with healthy body images from a thrift store to return my little world to unicorns and butterflies once again. Tra la la...tea and crumpets, rainbows and white cotton panties. This is going to be an interesting week. I can feel it. I am eagerly anticipating peering into my dirty magic tea cup first thing in the morning to see who has come to greet me. Of course, it will tickle me just as much if I get there and find nothing but an undefined blob. Sometimes magic tricks are exactly that--tricks! Goodnight readers.
(c) 2012, ACG
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