Well, I’m back again, and

Well, I’m back again, and just bristling with good news!

First off, I would like to announce the triumphant return of your friend and mine, the lovely Miss Pamala “Molly” Mijatov! We missed ya, baby.

Secondly, I would like to announce the blog-debut of my old buddy, (and when I say Old, I mean OLD), the palindrome man himself, Mike Kim! He is sick today, so send him your best wishes as he consumptions his way to recovery.

Thirdly, I would like to announce that I FINALLY HAVE A JOB. Yes, friends, after temping and searching for employment nirvana since March of 2001, I am finally out of the temp circuit. I will be taking the “Meaghan Maloney Memorial Position” at Seattle Children’s Theatre. From what I can tell, this job has pretty great benefits - among them, the possibility of training with Meaghan for a few days before she runs screaming from the state and ends up in Montana.

As such, today is my last day at my longest-term temp position EVER (I first showed my lovely face here in October), and I am training in my replacement. Not only is Janet hella-cool, but she and I also share several qualities, vocal ticks, slang words, etc. It’s pretty creepy. After this, I will be done with property management FOREVER. That kinda rules.

insert foot in mouth

insert foot in mouth down to heart and stomp

I’m so sorry, Ben. I couldn’t possibly have been more rude.

This is bleedin’ brilliant. Shamelessly

This is bleedin’ brilliant. Shamelessly stolen from the finallly-resurrected Seattlestage.com …

“This Is My Monologue”

written by Parker Posey, a deleted scene from “Waiting For Guffman” written by Christopher Guest and Eugene Levy

(Note: In the DVD director’s commentary, Christopher Guest gives complete writing credit to Parker Posey for this monologue, which she had faxed to him the night before filming. The monologue was regrettably cut for time, and only her performance of “Teacher’s Pet” after the monologue was left in the film.)

LIBBY: My name is Libby Mae Brown and this is my monologue. And, um, there’s a bed right here and… windows. (points to the middle of the room) This is a hospital. The door’s right through here. (The door is apparently right behind the window) Through here. Um, this is the hallway. And um, (grabs a stool) this is the chair that I sit in. And so, the bed is.. is right there. Um, I’ll be just, you know, looking there. (grabs her bag) My stuff. (She sits on the stool and looks at her monologue) Oh! I don’t start here. I start back in the hallway.
(She stands in the “hallway,” breathes, puts on her character glasses. She holds her monologue the entire scene.)
(Libby as “Susan” walks up to the “door,” breathes deeply, and uses her foot to simulate knocking. She enters the “room.”)

Libby as “Susan:” Billy? It’s Susan. (She sits on the stool and gets a doll from her bag) I was going through my trunk of souvenirs and I found this doll. The doll we used to play with before the war. Before you went insane. You were sitting on that quilt that had at one time kept us warm and it was so worn, Billy, and it smelled of mothballs which brought back all those memories of those times that we spent in the attic. Locked up. With Muffin. (refers to the doll) And you told us that mother was wrong and we were right. Didn’t you, Muffin? And I took care of you and Billy. But Billy was much more trouble than you, wasn’t he, Muffin? Especially when he got to be bigger than Susan. And made her do things she did NOT want to do. Things that made her sick! And mother pretended she didn’t know, but she did. (sighs) Well, who’s lying in bed in an insane asylum plugged into a life support system? And who’s wearing fine jewels and expensive clothes? (she takes off her glasses and waves her hair) And whose husband accidentally died just recently and left me all his money? (She puts her glasses in her bag; she stands, walks toward the “bed,” and proceeds to break character)

LIBBY: Oh, this is a, there’s a plug here that hooks up to where he’s breathing and stuff. Um… lemme just take it back. (She sits back on the stool.)

Libby as “Susan:” And whose husband just accidently died and left her all his money? (she walks up to the “bed,” unplugs the “plug” forcefully, and waves her hair) And who’s on top and who’s on bottom, now?? Huh?? Who’s on top and who’s on bottom, now?? (She walks to the “door.”) I’ll see you in Hell, Billy. But at least I’m gonna have some fun before I get there! (She has problems finding the “door,” but then finally opens it and leaves.)

LIBBY: Scene!

As for YOU, Sonya Begonia…

As for YOU, Sonya Begonia…

Thank you so much for the invite. I was just so sleepy last night that I went to bed at seven and didn’t wake up until seven this morning. Bill came to bed at two, and I woke up, and he said “Hey, it’s time to get up!” and I believed him, because I’d had seven hours of sleep, which is all I usually get. Today, I am feeling strangely awake, and I’m tingling all over. It’s very, very strange.

Last but not least, if you are my insatiable one …

I know who you are. I know where you live. I know who you were kissing in cornfields in the spring of 1995. Email me. (If MikekiM doesn’t make you do it, I’ll send MikeleE after you. You don’t want that.)

Too much stress. Too many

Too much stress. Too many big decisions. Too many restless nights. Too much tossing and turning. WAY too much tooth-grinding. I’ve never ground my teeth before, and now I find I’m doing it all the time … without realizing it. My jaw muscles are so sore, it’s driving me nuts. Take the job I don’t want? Wait for job I kind of want? Stay with temp job I don’t really want? Who wants me? What do I want? Audition for show? Apply for grad school? Defer? Drop out? Play hookie? Sleep in? Which monologue will go with which monologue will go with which song in which key with which outfit and which shoes? Let them down easy? String them along? What card do I play if all three of these companies play me? How do I pay this off and pay that off and pay the other thing off when I’m not getting paid? How do I handle being sick when I have no insurance? Who will clean my apartment? Why don’t I have any clean underwear? Why do my jaws hurt hurt HURT until I want my head to explode just to release a little of the pent-up pressure? Why has my skin decided to act pre-pubescent just when I most need to be an adult? Why are old feelings so hard to get rid of? When you can’t get rid of them, why can’t you just hide them instead? Why is change so hard? Why do things change so fast? Why do I start making choices I WANT to make because I feel like I’m on a roll and then suddenly everything goes sour? Why can’t I predict my own karma? Why can’t I CONTROL my own karma?

Grind, grind, grind.

Wow, I’ve been gone a

Wow, I’ve been gone a long time. That’s what’ll happen to you when you take an eleven-day vacation. Wow, do I feel rested and refreshed and TOTALLY HOARSE. Not much good being a receptionist if you can’t talk, eh?

Please, everyone, look at this. This is what I wanted to post in the first place, and the whole reason I’m blogging when I have my inbox is two feet high. This is why theatre is important. We may not agree with the methods in which this “war” is being waged, but I think many of us can agree that good things are happening now. Many good things.