I had cabin fever today. One would think that I would go for a walk downtown since it's 50 degrees out. Or maybe hit up a local craft fair. I went to the mall. Now I know what you will say...'Are you freakin' crazy? Going to the mall 2 days after Christmas?' Here's the thing, parking downtown sucks and frankly, I really don't like crafts, so yes, I went to the mall. I didn't really have anything I needed to do so I figured I could just walk and people watch. I wanted to pick up a new shirt for the husband, some bath crap and some hot cocoa from Starbucks.
I get the new shirt, done. Now I really can just meander because the other shit I could possibly do without. I pass Starbucks. Short line, cocoa is on sale, score(!) and done. I am coming around the corner to do my last length of the mall before heading to Trader Joe's and something is off. I hear this familiar buzzing sound but of course I am really not paying attention, just walking. Then I see this new window, bright colors and a sign on the door, something about "pleasurable pain"....WHAT? I do a double take and there it is folks, we knew this day would come but I was hoping to be in my 80's so I could say to my grandchildren, "I got my tattoos by a hippie pothead in a seedy shop in the Haight/Ashbury neighborhood in San Fran, not a mall!" Yep. My mall has a tattoo parlor. This may not be news to some but I really don't like going to the mall so it's been awhile.
And here's my real problem. I have been wanting another tattoo for awhile. I've done the research and I am pretty sure I know what I want and where...but the fact that my neighborhood mall has a clean, pretty tattoo shop with teeny boppers for artists sort of makes it a little, well "uncool". Now I realize the whole subculture idea of tattoos and body piercings and all of that is to prove that we don't care what's "cool" or not, we just want to "express ourselves". Which of course is bullshit. I have 3 tattoos and I think I am pretty badass. But that is besides the point. The last thing I want to hear when I finally do get my next tattoo is "OMG! Did you get that at the mall?"

Alrighty...been awhile!
Now I am aware that I have quoted the genius that is the Indigo Girls before and guess what? Gonna do it again folks. In fact, I am going to discuss the same quote that I have used in the past and why I think it could possibly be my favorite song lyric ever.
Looking back it is no surprise to me that the last time I used this song lyric was to help describe a really simple, wonderful day. About a year ago I had the day off and I decided on a whim to take my dog with me for a ride to get some Dunkin' Donuts coffee. The coffee ended up being free and for some reason this shaped the rest of my day. The fact that DD was hooking me up made me decide that rather than head home I should see where the day would take me.
You can see the rest of that day in a previous blog. Back to the now.
I have this problem in my car you see. My husband calls it "the place where cd's go to die" and sadly, it is true. I try! I really do but inevitably my cd's end up on the floor scratched, sometimes even cracked, and in general, not the most "playable". Over time I have lost many a cd to this "problem", including a few Indigo Girls cd's, cause let's be real...what could be better than driving along, window down, listening and singing along with the Girls. So the other day when I had a chance to purchase an IG cd for pretty cheap I jumped at it. I bought Swamp Ophelia for what feels like at least the third time...oh well. It has some incredible songs on it including "Power of Two", "Dead Man's Hill", "The Wood Song", and "Mystery". Which brings us to our lyric.
Now I don't pretend to know what Emily and Amy were thinking about when they wrote "Mystery", I can only tell you what it means to me and I'm not even gonna do that. I have this very strong belief that everyone loves the Indigo Girls for their own reasons. Everyone has a Ghost of their own and everyone in some way or another believes that Love Will Come To You and I choose not to ruin how someone feels about a particular song. Just one line...that's all we're discussing.

"I could go crazy on a night like tonight when summer's beginning to give up her fight..."

Again, I don't pretend to know what this lyric means to the brilliant women who wrote it, I only know how it makes me feel. It can make me smile on the cloudiest of days, it can make my heart swell so much that I cannot contain my voice and I am forced to sing along and the sense memory of an evening like they describe can send me back centuries. It helps that fall is my favorite season but really, who doesn't know that kind of night? "When summer's beginning to give up her fight". Who doesn't know what that feels like? It's not even a change in weather. It's a shift, a tiny breeze and you realize that summer is over. It smacks you in the face one day and you pull out your favorite fleece pullover and cuddly jeans. A subtle change and a death has happened along with a rebirth.
Some people see that day as sad. Here comes the cold, back to school, no more long days in the sun.
I've never thought that way. I always saw that day that summer starts giving up her fight as a new possibility. A new season, chance to cuddle, a new school year, reinvention, and long nights by the bonfire.
I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about this for god's sake it's just a song. I guess when music and words join together so perfectly I see it as a little bit of magic.
And every fall without fail since I first heard that song, the day will come, the wind will shift just so and I will smile and quietly say within myself..."Look at that, here it is...summer's beginning to give up her fight".

Understudy steps in and shines - baltimoresun.com

So the following is a "review" of the last show I did by the Baltimore Sun. I put review in quotations because they couldn't technically review the production because of the short run but what they did was a post review of sorts..kinda saying "Hey! Look at what you missed, check out the next show they're doing!"
If I do say so myself, it's a pretty stellar review!


Understudy steps in and shines - baltimoresun.com

Posted using ShareThis

Here's the thing about cars.

I hate them.....HATE. I hate that I have to rely on a hunk a junk, shrink my wallet, piece of soul stealing...well, steel!
Long story short...my husband and I moved away from the self sufficient, EL and bike riding city for a job in the "burbs". We thought "Hey, change of scenery, closer to parts of our family, better money, more time to figure out our lives, better place to raise a family, better place to "grow up".
What we got was cars.
Expensive, greedy, broken down on the side of the road cars. I have put at the very least TRIPLE the amount of money into my car than I actually paid for it. TRIPLE people.
What does that break down to? Close to $5000...and that does NOT include gas.
It also does not include the stress involved with worrying about what is going to go wrong with your car at any given moment and being stranded.....in a city, you miss a bus or a train? Usually there is one right behind it.
I'm about to make a very bold statement.
In a million lifetimes, I NEVER want to own another car again...EVER!
Really and truly, I don't see the point. They cost too much money, they're bad for the environment and dammit we could all use a little bit of exercise!
I lived in a city, a great city, where the public transportation, I believe, is one of the best in the world. At any given moment I could get to any part of the city I wanted by train, bus, bike or foot. Yes, there were frustrating moments of being stuck underground (longest I ever got stuck was 45 minutes....beats the 3 hour commute my husband can have if the traffic is bad) and I guess if you HAVE to get somewhere...I mean REALLY fast a car can be a good thing. But I truly believe that I could live a life without owning a car....and I will....(live that life...not own another car).
Here's what it breaks down to.
A CTA (Chicago public transportation) day pass (that's UNLIMITED rides for 24 hours) is $5.75...which is about $2100 a year. A 7 day pass (unlimited for 7 days..see you're getting the idea) is $23 or about $1200 a year. And yes they even sell a 30 day pass for $86, with fingers crossed that you don't lose it that's only $1032 a year.
Now ask yourself what you spend in gas per year....just gas.
But Sara, what about when you have children? What about major grocery shopping? What am I, an invalid? I once had a woman in a dog park say that to me....not that I'm an invalid but that you can't have children in a city....WHAT???? I would KILL to raise my kids in a well rounded, culturally diverse city where they can learn to take a bus and a train and ride their bikes places.
And do you know how many people move out of the way when a pregnant woman/mother with a stroller/parents with little kids get on public transport?......all of them!
That's what people don't seem to get when they haven't been exposed to a city that relies on public transportation. Everyone uses it! Not just the bums or the people that can't afford a car. People can actually be kind and courteous on the bus....yes, they can.
I know what you're saying...But Sara...you'll still be relying on a huge piece of steel. The difference is...for the most part this hunk of steel is reliable and I don't have to pay $1700 out of pocket the day it decides to break down right outside the beltway!
Oh and p.s. before we left Chicago I was riding my bike to and from work...you know what I was paying for that...a whole lot of nothing!
My long winded point being. While I love living close to family and I love my friends here and really Annapolis is pretty cool, I like having a car be a luxury in my life...not a necessity.
At this moment I could happily live my life relying on the lovely men and women of the CTA, my little yellow Madwagon beach cruiser bike and the occasional taxi cab.

Ca-Crack!

That is the sound of my heart breaking just a little bit today.
If you know anything about me, it's this. I love my dog. My Tootsie is my baby. I treat her like my child because essentially she is. She relies on me for food, shelter, general health care and tlc. Yes, I realize there are people out there (people who are friends of mine...family for god's sake!) who find this ridiculous. And I have this to say to you....bite me. We all have things that are important to us and she is just one of the things that is utterly important to me and my happiness. She is my family and if you don't treat your pet like a part of the family maybe you shouldn't have one.
That being said, not everyone needs to talk to their dog or have their dog sleep in their bed with them like I do...I'm just saying don't judge, bitches.
Anyhoo, back to my story. A while back the Tooter (as we affectionately call her) was attacked by another dog in our neighborhood. If you know the Toot, you are aware that she has a bit of a Napoleon complex. She is about 10 pounds and acts like she's a Rottweiler. She is a sassy-pants....especially on the leash. Off leash she will run, cavort, and of course bark in other dog's faces. But never in an aggressive way. She is a dominant female but she has never laid a tooth on another dog. But when she is on the leash she apparently gets very upset that she can't get to the other dog...or maybe it's that we pull her away, I don't know. All I know is that she looks like a crazy, rabid brat when we are walking her on leash. Once again, she never snaps or anything....she just barks.....like crazy!
Because of this I am always aware while walking her. I keep her close to me while other dogs go by and try to warn other owners of this behavior before letting the dogs meet.
Okay, so long story short....this "attack" was nobody's fault. Both dog's were on the leash it was just bad judgment in general. I shouldn't have let them meet knowing Tooter's behavior and the other dog (a black lab) was being walked by the owner's mother...who didn't realize that the dog she was walking would mistake my dog for a squirrel...aka dinner. I took my girl to the vet, got her some pain meds and the other owner paid for all of it. Done and done...so I thought.
Lately when we've walked her she hasn't wanted to go near their house. Now she wasn't attacked near their house so I was confused by this. Sometimes she gets all stubborn and just won't go, other times she's just fine. I let it go, chalked it up to a lazy dog.
Today, like many of my days off, the Toot and I were a bit lazy. A nice lazy day filled with laundry, Sex and the City, and many cups of cinnamon coffee. Halfway through my second load of laundry I decide the girl and I should go for a long walk. The rain had stopped, the sun was peaking out and frankly, Tootsie and I could use the exercise. My plan was to walk down passed the speedbump, passed the black lab's house, around the block to pass another dog named Kelly's house, down to the river and back up past our mailbox to get the mail. We start to head towards the speedbump....sometimes we only walk to the speedbump so it made sense that Toot would get stubborn thinking it was gonna be a short walk....I kept pulling. We made it passed the speedbump and start rounding the corner to the black lab's house. She starts to stop, I keep pulling, I drop my poop baggie, I bend down.....just as I do this I hear the barking. The black lab has come out onto her fenced deck...she can't get to us but she is sticking her head out of the fence barking like mad. I look over at my tiny little girl. Her tail has tucked itself under her little butt and she is pulling so hard on her leash in the other direction that I almost drop it.
I calmly turn in the other direction and continue our walk, I don't want to stress out my baby but folks I gotta be real with you. It was so sad to see that my baby girl was still affected by this. That the sight of this dog would get her so worked up again. She is still a sassy-pants with other dogs that I just assumed she was ok. It really did break my heart a little bit.
Not sure that we will be walking past that house again.
(.....makes me feel bad for the future bullies of my kid cause frankly, i wanted to walk over and kick the other dog for scaring my Tooter)

Let's talk about a little thing called Spring Break.
Remember in college, or even high school when Spring Break was this elusive, exciting, full of fun, trouble, love, dancing, drinking, get away from it all party? Remember that?
You'd plan these extravagant (well extravagant for a 20 year old) trips that involved beaches or road trips and definitely the opposite sex and booze.
And then your ass grows up and you can't afford Spring Break...or maybe you don't even get one. Maybe when you do, your landlords decide to get new siding done so that every morning at 7:30 they start banging on one of your apartment walls. Or you get a shitload of bad news and are back and forth from the hospital. Or you have to do your taxes.
In honor of our craptacular Spring Break (by the way, I don't get Spring Break, but Ty does) I will now write about a few Spring Breaks that were pretty f'ing cool.
Spring Break 1988
That's right folks! I had Spring Break when I was 11. Back then we called it "Energy Break" and it inevitably fell on the week of my birthday every single year. This particular year we had a dual break/work trip planned to San Francisco. Now you wouldn't think that S.F. would be a fun trip for a couple of pre teeners, one of which was on crutches but I remember it very fondly.
We stayed in this fantastic bed and breakfast that had THE best cornflake cookies in the lobby and gosh darn it if they didn't make my birthday kickass! We walked into this room and it was filled....I mean FILLED with teddy bears and there was a bottle of sparkling cider and champagne glasses with a card that said Happy Birthday!
We went to Chinatown, went shopping, my brother got a hundred dollar haircut. One day my parents were bickering about something (as parents often do) before we left for the day and my brother, god love him, said...."I am not going anywhere with you people if you don't stop fighting"...it was awesome.
But my fondest memory is a story ALL of us still tell to this day whenever we get the opportunity.
.........................................................................................................................................................................
That was a pause to see if any of my family can guess which story I mean. Got it yet?
One day we got into this cab. There were four of us so somebody always had to sit up front and that was usually Dad. This day was no different. We all piled in and Dad started up his shtick with the cabbie and we got to a stoplight at the top of a monstrous hill, I mean it was so incredibly steep we all thought we were about to go down headfirst. The cab driver looked at my dad, who was not wearing his seat belt.
The cab driver said "Sir, could you put your seat belt on please?..........I wanna try something!"
Did the cabbie actually go flying down the hill? Did my breakfast land on Dad's lap? No, he just wanted Dad to put his seat belt on, but he had us all going for a second. That was a fun trip!
Spring Break 2000
Now this was in college. Nobody had ANY plans. Our school took a New York trip every year but my friends and I had already gone. We were stuck. Nothing to do, nowhere to go. Then one night, 5 days before Spring Break began, over cheap beer and karaoke we concocted a plan. You see my parents owned this van. This nice van. And none of us had ever been to New Orleans before. And by golly wouldn't you know it? Five days later we finished a dinner theatre show, took some pictures by the van and we were off!
There were six of us and we drove 24 hours pretty much straight through to Louisiana. We stopped for breakfast in Kirksville, Mo, missed Graceland by 5 minutes (who knew it closed at 4 p.m.?) and had pizza instead, and frankly, got a little nervous driving through Mississippi at night.
Once we got there, it was fantastic. We stayed in a hostel the first night and moved to a hotel thereafter. We shopped, went to the zoo, toured a graveyard, ate at great restaurants, drank at great bars, some of us got tattoos while others showed their boobies for beads.......ok it was just me that showed my boobs but dammit, we were in New Orleans, somebody had to!
Spring Break 2008
That's right folks, one measly year ago. Was. My. Honey. Moon.
San Francisco again. But this time with my love. My husband.

So, Sara, how was your "Spring Break" this year? Well technically I didn't have one, I was sick, my husband was pissy cause of the noise from the siding and I found out my folks can't come see my show. So compared to the above it sucked big time.
But I have pretty new green siding on the roof over my head, my hubby loves me, I haven't lost my voice yet (knock on everything), I can talk to my mom on the phone anytime I want and dammit I have a great show opening this weekend!
Not bad...not bad.

Complete cop-out, stolen from Jill.

1. When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Broadway Actress and Orthopedic Pediatrician

2. What have you done in the past week to help someone else?
Babysat the niece and nephew and gossiped a lot(hey gossiping helps).

3. Who is the best-dressed person you know?
Hmmmm....probably my friend Ashley.

4. What is on your nightstand?
Oh lordy! Random jewelry, a cup o' water or two, a pair of glasses and some other unmentionables.

5. If you were a cat, what kind of a cat would you be?
A lazy one...oh wait...

6. If you lived in a house surrounded by acres of trees, what particular type of tree would you want flourishing on your land?
Totally stealing this answer cause I never would've thought of it myself.....Pecan tree...I freakin' LOVE pecans!

7. What do you find to be very overrated?
People and having to deal with them.

8. How many email addresses do you have?
2

9. Have you ever felt replaced?
Sure have

10. Would you rather watch football or baseball?
Top Model

11. What is the wallpaper on your phone?
A pic of the Tooter

12. Name a lyric from the song you're listening to.
Not listening to any music right now...but i have a song in my head. "For yoooouuuuuu"

13. Do you use a feed reader?
A what?

14. What chocolate do you always leave in the box?
Jill and I really are similar in a totally creepy way....the cherry.

15. What would you do if you found out your ex is engaged?
They are all pretty much married too...but i will say that one ex I was really happy for when I found out and another I was pretty devastated at the time but I got over it...quickly.

16. Do words hurt you?
Sure do

17. Are you a talker or a listener?
I would like to think I am a good mix of both....unless I've been drinking.

18. Have you ever walked on the beach at night?
Yeppers....and then I peed on that beach

19. Who is your favorite professional athlete?
I'll say Michael Phelps...only in the hopes that I can score some weed.

20. Which TV show have you seen pretty much every episode of?
Six Feet Under

Alright...I'm gonna clear a few things up here.
If you are on Facebook and you are a "friend" of mine, you are aware that as of late I have been excited about a couple of things.
What are these things, Sara? A new job? Are you moving?
Nope, well at least not yet.
Here's the thing kids. I've wanted to be an actor for, hmm, let me see, MY WHOLE FREAKIN' LIFE!
Now, do I get paid for this? Not right now, although in the past, yes.
But here's how it goes. If you are an actor, you're an actor. You don't stop. Yep, right now I am doing an awesome show that I am so pumped about. Immediately following this awesome show I will be doing another awesome show (with my husband!) and I just auditioned for yet another show (didn't get it)! This is my job. I audition. You're an actor? You're in a show? You're always looking for the next audition.
That's what we do people.
Funny thing about Facebook. People are nosy about your "status updates". Yep, I put it out there, so people have every right to comment. But I've got a question.
If I've been an actor FOREVER and I'm "crossing my fingers" about something, why in gay hell do you people assume that I am knocked up???
And another thing........creeeeeeaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkk.
That's the sound of a can of worms being opened.
I love children. I love my nieces and nephews. As cheesy as it may sound...I love giving them back.
So Sara, when ARE you gonna have kids? I'm mean you're not getting any younger.
......................................................................................................................................................


Oh, I'm sorry. That was me ignoring the question cause people need to mind their own business. Not until you are actually being accosted at every family event do you realize how inappropriate it is to ask someone when they are going to procreate.
Maybe they can't.
Maybe they don't want to and don't feel like breaking their mother's heart in public.
Maybe...it's nobody's frickin' business but a lady and her man's.
That's right I said it. It is nobody's business when I will have kids....except my husband's.
So therefore I have decided not to answer that question anymore!
Why? (as if I haven't answered that with the above)....because my ass doesn't have to answer to anyone but my hubby....and sometimes even that's questionable.
So, how about them Cubbies?

Ok Jill, hope you have a strong stomach.

OK so second funny story for the tori girl (apparently tori is what they call Jill's weird bone thingy's).
Alrighty. In honor of my being cast most recently in my second production of Urinetown I will post a humorous story from the first time I did the show.
It was 2006. I was a part of the first sit down production of Urinetown, The Musical! in Chicago.
Ok, whatever does that mean, Sara? Sit down? Doesn't everybody sit down at the theatre?
What I mean by "sit down" is that it was not a touring production. The idea was that the show would have an open run. We were home and we would stay there until the audiences no longer came to see us. Well, unfortunately for us, that happened after only one extension. So we had a decent go of it but I could have done that show, with that cast, for a really long time. To this day, it is my favorite production I have ever been lucky enough to be a part of.
Enough of the mushy gushy's, what's so funny about that?
Let me tell you a little bit about me first. I have something called IBS or Irritable Bowel Syndrome or as my dear best friend so lovingly refers to it...crabby ass.
Oh my goodness Sara! I've never heard of this ailment. What is it?
What it is is a lazy explanation from doctors who really have no fucking clue what is actually wrong with you. They have no pills, no remedies and no ideas about how to help you through this. They give you a stupid acronym and call it a day. Bastards.
Long story short? Some women have extreme constipation....they don't poop for days, weeks. I can only dream. Others, like me, have the exact opposite...
Did I mention this blog was going to be gross, gratuitous and somewhat embarrassing?
What does this mean? When I have to go....I have to go and get the fuck out of my way!
So here we are, well into the run of Urinetown ( I will let you marinate on the pun that was entirely intended in that sentence).
The role I was playing was Little Becky Two Shoes (which is a whole other story, suffice to say that Little Becky wears a brace and if you take it off, she will fall down...hope you all got that).
But I also had to play a little side role of Mrs. Millennium, a secretary. And I was a cop. And I was a UGC staff member. I never got a break. I was in almost every scene and if I wasn't I was offstage furiously going from one costume to another.
Picture this. The opening of Act 2. I have ahead of me 3 major dance numbers, a quick change to run across the stage as another character, another quick change to get back to my original character, a song in which I am frozen for the majority of it and 2 more quick changes before the finale.
The lights go down, the music begins, I am standing offstage well aware of the fact that I will not stop moving for the next hour to an hour and a half. I get into position, get ready to walk onstage.......and I feel it. Gurgle, gurgle...cramp. That terrifyingly familiar feeling. I have to take a dump...and not in the good way.
There is nothing I can do. I have the opening line of the second act! I do one scene cramping the whole way through. But I can't stop there. Here comes my big number, the one where I am featured. Oh god, please don't let anyone take too many pauses. Please let the musical director play as fast as he did that night he had a date after the show. Please let me get through this.
I make it through my featured number. But here comes "Run Freedom, Run" which is exactly what we do for almost the entire number.
Jesus Christ, I may actually crap my pants, onstage, during an equity show!
We finish running, thank god. But I still have 4 quick changes, 4 songs and a finale to get through. Dear Lord Almighty, what did I eat?
Maybe I can skip the crossover! Maybe I can have Sarah say a few of my lines and skip the next scene...doesn't matter because before I know it I am changed by my dresser and thrown out onstage for the crossover.
Ok, I need a plan. I cannot make through the rest show. I have to poop.
I do my crossover but of course the bathrooms are on the other side of the stage. I run up the ladder. Cross behind the scrim. Climb down the backstage stairs. There is my dresser, she has my next costume.
"I will be right back I promise!" I run up the stairs to the dressing room. Dear God in Heaven I'm gonna make it! The song onstage keeps trucking along but dammit I'm gonna make it. As I round the corner to the bathroom my Mrs. Millennium costume is already off. I will do my business and run downstairs in my underwear to change into Little Becky and make it just in time for "Tell Her I Love Her". Victory is in my grasp!
Nope. What's actually in my grasp is the handle to the bathroom door...which is locked.
I pound on the door....well as much pounding as you can do in a theatre when a show is going on. It's my friend, Sarah.
"Please....Please, please, pleeeeeaaase get out! Get out!" She is gracious enough to oblige.
I do what I have to do, run downstairs to change and make just in time to walk onstage.
So much for the glamour of the theatre.

For my internet GF

Alright, so my friend Jill (haha still sounds weird) had some surgery today. And when I say some surgery, I mean it! She had these weird "child's fingers"-like bones in her mouth that had to be removed....I don't really know how and frankly I don't care. It's doesn't sound fun at all (except for the vicodin part).
Now apparently Jill is one of the 3 people who actually like reading my blog and she might be the only one who looks forward to it. So in honor of Jill being laid up full of good drugs I've decided to post some funny stories within the next few days that might entertain someone who is nice and drugged up and stuck in their home.
Really, Sara? What kind of funny stories do you plan to tell?
Well, I'm not gonna lie...part of me did entertain the thought of digging up some random, embarrassing stories from back when I used to date her husband...you know, like the time right after high school when he decided to take me on his yearly camping trip. Yes, that is right, you can all stop laughing now...I went camping. And I'm not talking the nice kind of camping with bathrooms, showers, parking spots for your RV and a bar. Nope. I'm talking canoeing, portaging, peeing in the woods and bathing in the river....ok now you can laugh.
While I look back on it fondly as a learning experience, over time I have realized the only thing I learned from that trip is that I don't like to camp. (Sorry Nick)
But no, I thought that might be inappropriate.
Instead I thought I would tell a humorous story from one of my surgeries.
Now I say "one" because I have had many. Long story short, I have a disease call Fibrous Dysplaysia in my left tibia which makes that bone weaker and not grow as fast as the rest of my body. Layman's terms? By the time I was 13 my left leg had broken twice, never re healed and was 3 1/2 inches shorter than my right. Or as my friend Dani would put it...I'm a fucking cripple.
We had a choice to make. Lose my leg or try a relatively "newer" procedure in which they would lengthen my leg and in doing so, hoped to heal it. We went for door number two. It was successful. Awesome.
But I wanna take you back to when I was getting the "fixator" on. Like I said, this was a pretty new procedure in the U.S. My doctor had actually done quite a few but it was a Russian based procedure called the Illizarov technique. So channel 4 news decided that they wanted to do a story on me. All the video cameras show up the night before. They tape me playing Foosball, video games, hanging with my folks and generally being a 13 year old kid. "Look at how normal she is!" And they interviewed my doctor as well. I guess everyone thought it was uber cool that he had to use things like wrenches for this particular surgery.
Cut to the next day. When you were that young having surgery they didn't just stick a needle in your arm and say "Peace out! When you wake up you will have 26 pins sticking out of your leg!" Nope, they wanted you calm. So they come to your room very, very early and give you a pill. I look back and I can only guess that it was the pre teen version of Xanax. This makes a 13 year old girl tired....and bitchy.
Apparently the t.v. cameras couldn't show up when I was even close to coherent. Nope. They show up about 5 minutes before I am to go in the pre-op room and have my hand stuck with the i.v needle (which I was REALLY nervous about) and from my mother's perspective, 5 minutes before her baby was going to have the biggest, longest, craziest surgery to ever happen in the family. Needless to say, neither one of us were in the mood to chat...on camera.
All I can remember is the lights in my face. The fucking lights in my nervous, drugged up face. All my mom can remember is trying to have a fucking moment with my dad as they were wheeling me out of sight into the o.r. and the lights in her face.
Whether or not it's actually true I do remember one other thing.
I remember telling the camera guy to "Get the fuck out of my face!"
They never did run the story.

Now I'm just getting pissed

So we're snowed in again. No really, like the entirety of Annapolis is shut down. It's a ghost town out there. ( I actually have no idea what "out there" is like due to the fact that I have not left the house in a day and a half).
And while this is fun and a little bit romantic, I do find it to be excessive.
Why Sara? A day off of work to sit in front of the fire watching the Travel Channel and E? What ever could be wrong with that?
I'll tell you. My husband is a teacher. If he gets a snow day...he still gets paid! I, on the other hand, do not. In fact, today I will be missing 2 shifts because for some reason....even though it snows EVERY year, this state has yet to figure out that if they just start plowing and salting early AND if the drivers realize that, yes, it is possible to drive in snow, then we could all get on with our lives. It's not an ice storm! For that, I will give you your snow day. No people, it is pretty, fluffy easily walked on/driven through snow, albeit a foot of it but come on!
Not really the point of my post though. I sat down with the intent of telling you about my audition.
You know, the one I had like 2 weeks ago that I never told you about until after the callback last week?
Anyways, the audition. The worst audition of my life...no really.
The show: Urinetown, The Musical. Now, I know this show like the back of my hand. I love it, I've done it, and apparently I am not willing to let it go cause I drove 40 minutes to audition for it again.
The role: Little Becky Two Shoes. Again, I've already played it, she holds a special place in my heart so why not?
Well I am so confident in my knowledge of the show and my ability to play this part that I grab my music and go.....never once checking the key or really rehearsing at all. Hey, I've sung this song before, they're gonna be begging me to do this show!
Yeah
Um, I ask the pianist to start 2 bars earlier than I normally do. The music is all jacked up cause for some reason whoever originally printed it out only printed like 3 bars per page....AND....it's stapled.....(which is generally a problem for pianists...not sure why I didn't catch this...probably because I am a jackass). I get to sing about .03 seconds of the song and I am cut off. I was pissed, didn't even get to the good part of the song. We go through our readings and they are about to let all of us go. Now I am really upset...at nobody but myself.
"Sara? Could you stick around for a second?" YES!!! Yes I can. Apparently they like my reading so much they wanted to see if I was actually that bad of a singer....and NO I AM NOT. I sing the shit out of my next song and make it to the callback round. And here's where it gets interesting.
Not only am I called back for Little Becky but they want me to also prepare for Ms. Penelope Pennywise, the brash, jaded warden of the poorest urinal in town. It's a kick ass part. A HARD kick ass part. A hard, kick ass part that I would kill to play....in like 5+ years. I only say that because I tend to look very young onstage and I am usually the shortest person in the cast.
I go to the callback. This time I am very well prepared. I know this fucking song...let's go!
There are three of us. We're all pretty good...very different takes on the role. Two of us are sent out to prepare for other roles, one is kept to read again...not a good sign. But I don't say this. I don't have to. The "other" Pennywise girl won't shut up about it. "I guess we should assume we didn't get it since she's still in there, huh?" "I don't like to think like that" I say. "But really, I mean it only makes sense" she continues. Now I'm ready to spit on her. "I don't make assumptions until I get a phone call" I say and promptly find another spot to read my sides. Just as I start to move the final Pennywise contestant comes out of the theatre. With her coat on. She's being sent home. Really not a good sign. Because you see, now I really want this dammit!
I read for two more roles including Little Becky and am sent home. I'll get cast. Just maybe not as Pennywise, probably as Little Becky...which is great! But man to get to play Pennywise...
I expect a phone call on Friday...it comes on Tuesday. I miss it cause I'm at work. The director leaves a message. Now there is no way she will tell me which part I get on a message so I listen half assed so I can call her back...and then I hear it..."Pennywise"....what? I listen again and sure enough "We'd like to offer you the part of Ms. Pennywise".
I start rehearsals next week.

Where have I been?

Good god it's been forever. I'm so sorry (like any of you actually give a shit).
Alrighty it has been a crazy week. Did dinner with the inlaws for the bday, worked my ass off, dinner and drinks with friends (awesome!), worked a lot, oh and had an audition and callback for one of my favorite shows (no word yet, I'll get back to you on that one).
But what I am really here to talk to you about is... I am sure you can guess...one of my favorite nights of the year....Oscar Night!
It's silly, extravagant and unnecessary but I love it. I could care less about what people wear or who they are with, yes, I actually care about the awards. I have this whole set up on how I vote and God help you if you ever watch them with me.
This year's host was Hugh Jackman, yes folks, Wolverine and he did not disappoint. If you are not a complete comic book geek who only loves him for his X-Men affiliation you might also be aware that Hugh did a couple of stints on Broadway and, in fact, won a Tony Award in 2004 for Best Actor in a Musical for The Boy From Oz (which he was great in). I was pumped.
The opening number again, did not disappoint. It was funny, witty, and good for Anne Hathaway. Overall I was very pleased with him as a host. He was funny without being a dick, he was charming, and he was not afraid to laugh at himself.
Now let's chat about their decision on how to hand out the acting awards. Hmmm, this is a tough one. On one hand I found it very flattering and maybe even a little bit humbling to have the actors fawned over by past winners. I mean really, how fucking cool would it be to have Shirley Maclaine tell you how good you are? On the other hand it was narcissistic, time consuming and god forbid the actor/actress that was "congratulating" you not give a shit and simply read from the teleprompter without care or emotion. So I was torn.
And.... the middle of the evening, obligatory, gotta get our 4 hours in for our sponsor Coke, waste more time musical number. I actually kind of dug it....kind of.
I mean really...Zac "greasy hair" Efron and Vanessa "nope, still not old enough to be sexy" Hudgens?....Really?
And Beyonce......oh Beyonce. You wooed us all with your heartfelt performance at the Inaugural Ball....and then just cause you gotta walk down a few stairs you phone it in and pretty much lipsync your entire performance at the Oscars? Come on!
But Hugh was great, Beyonce shook her ass like nobody's business and you know I gotta love a song that's all about bringing the musical back!
For the most part I agree with the awards although part of me really wanted to see Mickey Rourke win. I also thought that the Original Song performances were fine...but really was there a reason we couldn't see each one individually? It's not like we needed to hear Sarah Jessica yap away for like 6 awards...
So we watched the show, drank champagne and ate too many tacos (cause that's how i roll on Oscar night) and stayed up way too late. And my friend Emily was right..my birthday and the Oscars in the same weekend!!! My head almost exploded...good times.

Picture this: You're late for work. Not really late but just late enough where you know you're gonna get behind the school bus at the end of the block and hit every red light on your way...that kind of late. Oh, and, you're just not moving as fast as usual cause your brilliant ass attempted two 45-minute classes at the gym yesterday.
Anyways, so there you stand, furiously making half a PB&J sandwich for breakfast, when you hear it. The ringtone. Not a text...no...mom?...no, that one ringtone that you have reserved for that oh so special person in your life.
My husband's ringtone in my phone is "Good Old Fashioned Loverboy" by Queen.....which is kind of annoying at 7:15 in the morning when I'm running late, sore and haven't had nearly enough caffeine to function. But I gotta pick it up god forbid it's something remotely important. I run into the bedroom (ouch my knee), leap across the bed (ooohh my back) and grab the phone...."Yeah?" I say more than a little irritated...
"Oooh oo oo oooh oo oo I Wanna Sex You Up"
Now I will fully admit that at times I have incredibly bad taste in music (see post below). And I'm not gonna lie, I know more than one song by Color Me Badd but what made me smile on this Friday morning, day before Valentine's Day, while running late and irritable was that my husband, the man I have chosen to spend a really frickin' long time with (ya know, the rest of my life) thought of me when this piece of crap, buried in the 90's song came on the radio. That he sat there in traffic, did not turn the station but in fact, reached deep into that crazy photographic memory that he has and called his wife and sang every word of one of the worst, completely unsexy songs of our generation.
If I haven't said it enough before I will say it again....god I love him!

Judge me all you want...

...but Jesse McCartney is hot*



*of course he's not nearly as hot as my husband!

Ugh

I was gonna write a blog about how I prefer to workout to showtunes as opposed to heart thumping, bass filled, remixed pop music ( I find it to be more intense and the stakes higher so I push myself further)...but no. I cannot ignore what is happening in the world today. The babies dear god, the babies.
So the whole world is pissed off at Nadya Suleman, again, if you are under a rock this woman had 6 kids, no job, receiving disability payments and decided it was a good idea to have another...so she claims...but what actually happened is that she had 8....8! EIGHT more. Now I was a theatre major but even I can do that math. That's 14 fucking kids people.
Irresponsible? Yep
Selfish? Oh hells yeah
A new development in this world and therefore she should be subjected to a verbal lashing from judgemental jerks all over who think they know better?????
I don't agree with her choices. She makes me happy that I have waited to have kids. She pisses me off as a taxpayer.
But here is my question.
How is she different from Kate Gosselin or Michele Duggar?
What do you mean Sara? Who are these folks that you chat about?
Well Kate is the "Kate" in John and Kate plus 8, and Michele is the mother figure in "17 Kids and Counting"...both reality shows that follow the laughter, tears and hi-jinx's of having multiple children.
John and Kate had a perfectly healthy set of twins...but wanted more. So they tried for ONE more...and got 6. Ooops. So what did they do? They parlayed their "oops" into reality gold and can now pay for the home that houses the 8 people they have brought into this already overpopulated world...all while keeping the rest of us glued to our tv's.
And don't even get me started on this Duggar woman. 18 kids? Really? No oops here folks...they just decided to let God determine how many kids they would have. Yeeeeahhhhh....uuummmm...ok.
So why is it ok for them but this Suleman lady gets all of us riled up? Is it because these other women are married? Is it because they have built in babysitters and surrogate parents in their other children? Is it because they have a shitload of money from exploiting their exploding uterus'?
I don't think there is much of a difference here folks. They're still being irresponsible, they're still being selfish.
Kate and Michelle just happened to know somebody in show business.

Well, since everyone else is talking about it.

Keeping with my entertainment theme as of late, I thought I would give you all (what is there now?...3, 4 of you?) my two cents on the rash of celebrity outbursts lately.
First of all, I disagree with my husband on this one. ( you can see his thoughts at cobb-descending.blogspot.com)
Second, I was an actor. At one point I was even a professional actor, so my opinion may be a bit biased.
And Third...it's almost 5 o'clock...so I'm gonna have a glass of wine with this one.
Let's begin with my girl Patti Lupone...who, in my household we affectionately refer to as, Corky's mom.
So apparently she was in the middle of a performance of Gypsy and there was some random person in the audience taking photographs. Well, if you have ever been to live theatre you know damn well that they frown on this particular behavior. Not only is it distracting to the performers but hey, it's illegal...that's right, people could actually make money off of the photos and that goes against contracts, blah, blah, blah.
Back to Corky's mom. Well she stops the show. Stops the singing, stops the orchestra, full on stops the show! And girrrrrrrllllllll, she let this person have it! "Stop taking pictures! Who do you think you are?" (Go to youtube, hear it for yourself) And while the yelling and the stopping the show and the kicking out the photographer might have been a little excessive...I do have to agree with her. If only for the sake of the rule itself being broken, I mean for god's sake, they say it like twenty times! And like Corky's mom said when she thanked the rest of the audience...it's a matter of respect. Respect for the actor's, respect for the theatre and respect for rules in general (I'll let you judge the irony of the fact that the only reason we are able to hear the rant is because somebody else was illegally recording the performance). Yes, she sounded a bit "diva" ish in the rant but hey she is Patti "Corky's mom" Lupone.
And now for my boy Christian Bale. Oh Christian, why do you make us, with no pun intended, constantly bail you out? You are so cute, such a good actor and finally getting the big bucks. SO why do you need to be such a dick?
Now, frankly, I don't think his most recent rant was that bad. Yeah, he dropped like 187 f-bombs but come on, that director of photography should have known better (for those of you under a rock, while filming Terminator:Salvation in July last year, apparently the director of photography kept walking through Bale's line of focus...which in itself is a dick move...and the audio tapes of that rant have just been released). What bugs me is that Christian keeps getting caught up in these kinds of situations. In reality though when an actor is in the middle of filming/performing that last thing you should do is step in front of that focus (figuratively and literally)...repeatedly. If I were him I may have wanted that guy off the set too
So were theses rants justified? A little bit, yep.
Were they excessive? Maybe so
And who's the biggest loser, the people who spent their time making sure that others heard these rants, or me, for spending so much of my time writing about them?
(Please don't answer that)

Best movie ending e-va!

So Ty and I had our infamous Italian night tonight. Bread, pepperoni, cheese, olive oil, apples and steamed artichoke...and needless to say wine. We also played our movie game. We come up with a theme, we each pick three movies from our library based on that theme and through process of elimination, end up with a movie. Tonight that movie was none other than "Say Anything".
Now, do I love Say Anything? Sort of.
Did I marry Lloyd Dobler? Yep
But here's the thing...while I most definitely have a top 5 list of movies, Say Anything is nowhere near that list.
But it does top one crucial list.
I, Sara Patsy Cobb, believe that, Say Anything has the BEST movie ending ever!
Pretty bold statement, I know.
There are other movies that have great endings.
The Godfather, Shawshank Redemption, The Sixth Sense and Casablanca.
I believe Say Anything tops them all.
Here's why.
Hope.
Lloyd and Diane fly off (literally) into the blue skies of hope.
After 16 weeks of an adolescent love affair they make a choice. A very adult choice to remain together.
But that's not why.
They sit in an airplane, of which she fears and he holds her hand. He holds her hand and supports her. He talks her down from a ledge and they wait...together. And we as an audience are left with hope. Hope for their lives together, hope for their future together and hope for a great love story. We are left to figure it out for ourselves. And I love that.
I love that we are left silent, waiting for that ding...together. They pull us into their journey and we join them in fear, excitement, and hope.
We have no idea how it all ends up for Lloyd and Diane and frankly I didn't care. Just the idea. The thought that they were off together on this adventure and we got a glimpse of it, was ok with me.
...
...
...
Ding

Can we talk about Idol please?

Apparently it is the day of blogs for me.
Anyhoo, Idol. Oh Idol, Idol, Idol. Can we PLEASE stop with the human interest stories? Really.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate people who have had major loss in their life whether that be loss of a sense, a parent, freedom or just plain innocence.
But come on! That doesn't mean that they are good singers. That also doesn't mean that you should pimp them out for the last 20 minutes of your show for ratings sake.
And here's what really, really bugs me about it all. It breaks the "fourth wall" so to speak. It takes us all out of the "audition" and makes us, as an audience, well aware that this is a very well planned, well edited television show. I once had a friend who auditioned for a reality show. She was standing in line to audition for said reality show and one of the cameras was shoved in her face. "Hey! Pretend that a judge just said something really mean to you. What's your reaction?" She was stunned. Not only had she not met the judges, but she was still in line...she hadn't even gotten in the door yet, much less been insulted by the judges.
And another thing. I hate to say it but dammit, whatever happened to good old fashioned talent, huh?
Who cares what hardships you've been through...talent is talent. I wear a fucking brace on my leg, I have no ankle motion in my left leg, I have ALWAYS wanted to sing and dance on Broadway......does this mean they should cast me in 42nd Street??? Fuck no. But I was perfect for "Little Becky Two Shoes" in Urinetown.
So please American Idol, can we stop feeling bad for people? It wastes you time, their time and most importantly MY time.

A couple of corrections

My memory fails me these days in my old age.
It was 2 years ago that we had the ice storm here that left us homebound for 2 days.
Also my mother decided to call and correct me about my childhood.
Apparently we did have one or two snow days (ok mom....one or two snow days in 13 years of schooling and you wonder why I've forgotten).
But I guess what that means in White Bear Lake is that you put your child in a snowsuit and onto a sled. Pull said child 3 blocks to your girlfriend's house. Plop the kids outside to play while you and your girlfriends drink coffee and chat.
Sounds about perfect to me.
I might end up liking this parenthood thing after all.**

**(no, i am not pregnant, nor will i be in the near future...i'm just sayin'... that's all)

God we're pussies!

So...I wrote a very similar post to this almost a year ago and I still feel as if I have to comment on it. Two days ago it started lightly...and I mean lightly, snowing and I just knew. I had my Tuesday all planned out. I was to have the day to myself, the whole day. Ty would have school and then his his speech therapy group until 8 ish. There was coffee on the menu, blogging, MAJOR cleaning (no really, I was on a mission), a nap, and some crap t.v./reading depending on what crap was available. And then it snowed.
At first it was that really pretty, I'm not even sure it's actually snowing-snow that just sort of floats and hangs in the air. Then it was the sideways, not gonna touch the ground-snow....and finally as I was roused from sleep by my giddy husband, it was an official snowstorm and Ty would have an official snow day.
Instead of coffee, cleaning and crap our day consisted of, well, coffee, crap and cuddling by the fire. I guess it could've been worse.
As I have said before, we NEVER had snow days when I was little...NEVER. I'm from Minnesota and we don't mess around. We get up excessively early to warm up our cars to drive through the streets that have been plowed and salted for hours already. So I usually just laugh at situations like this. Fast forward to this morning. I am already certain that Ty will have another snow day (which he does) and that I will have to go to work..which I did...sort of. I got up, walked the dog, and warmed up my car. I knew this was gonna be difficult. Our entire neighborhood is covered in ice and because it is a private neighborhood the snow plows and salt trucks had not been through. I suck it up, text my coworker that I may be a little late, and get on the road. Well I was not a block from my house when the wheels start spinning and I begin to slide back down the tiny hill I was trying to get up. Long story short, I finally get through to Ty after 4 tries (!) and while he came to help me move my car to the side of the road I get the call that my morning shift is canceled....gee, thanks!
Once again, I guess it could be worse. I went back to bed and woke up to Ty making breakfast. Now I sit here waiting to hear if I will have to go in tonight while my adorable husband sits in his p.j.'s happily watching Man vs Food. God I love him!

Can't live in this country this week and not talk about it

So. It was kind of a big week here in the good old U S of A. I saw the Wrestler, Tom Colicchio saved some guy's life and a nice gentleman by the name of Barack Obama became our 44th President.
I'll get to Tom and The Wrestler later. Let's chat about the new prez.
Everyone I know....everyone (!) is pumped. I am pumped. Here comes some change, change is good........but here's my thing.
Everyone that I am friends with on myspace and facebook has made some status comment within the past week about this event. "Tears of Joy"..."I never thought I would see this in my lifetime"...."His speech made me weep".
Getting a new leader doesn't make me cry, I'd like to think that in my lifetime (which still has a way to go, I hope) that my generation would step up and make some of these changes happen...um...kinda like we just did in November and frankly while I thought his speech was nice, I was not necessarily moved by it...it was a realistic speech about all the hard work we have ahead of us as a country.
And here's another thing...
Ty and I were chatting during the Inauguration (living geographically so close to where it actually happened my husband's school canceled classes for the day and he got to hang with me...I already had the day off) and we both sat there wondering why we weren't more excited, more moved, more...well...anything. And I think I figured it out.
We're gonna have a new President...every 4 to 8 years. And while I appreciate that this was a historic event that we all were a part of, I also recognize that he is human and is going to make mistakes and piss all of us off.
And about this whole "historic" event. Yep, sure was. But I feel, as a 31 (almost 32) year old, white, middle class woman, I don't really get to say that.
Here's why.
I was raised and continue to be a very open minded, tolerant person. I would like to say that I don't see color but that's not realistic....what is realistic is that I never for once thought that we would never have an African American person leading our country...and you wanna know why?
Because I am not black. I can read about racial struggles in every history book ever written and never come close to realizing the struggles of a black person in America (or any other minority except for women). I don't really get it and I never will.
This does not make me a bad person. What this makes me is a very idealistic person in a very screwed up world.
So while my friends wear their hearts on facebook, I keep mine a little bit closer. This election was historic for this country, not necessarily for me. I would like to think that we can make this happen again and again...choosing the right guy for the job, that is. And I can just sit back and quietly think about how fucking cool this is.
And...um...The Wrestler was just ok although Mickey Rourke was amazing and I actually don't know anything about the Tom Colicchio stuff but I will be watching him on Top Chef tonight.

I would love to give my husband a blowjob...

...but I really can't right now.
Why Sara? You love him right? You got married right? You didn't injure your knees recently, did you?
Yes, Yes, and No.
Here's why folks. Because after two, count them, TWO trips to the dentist for one, yes ONE root canal, it is still not finished.
WHAT?
Before the "I told you so's" or the "Let's sue the bitches" start, let me at least say this. I am not really in any pain, she seems to be doing exactly what she should be doing and hey...just another reason to keep stocked up on Vicodin.
Of course, all of this being said...it still sucks (no pun intended). I've had to rearrange my schedule and frankly just living with the knowledge that it's gonna be another two weeks before they can finish it (fingers crossed) is daunting. I hate the frickin' dentist. For god's sake that's why I didn't go for so long and got into this predicament in the first place.
So here I sit. My face has been puffy all day, my jaw is killing me from being wide open for two and a half hours, and my husband...well...you can only guess.
Take it from me. It pays, for all involved, to keep up on your dental health.

They got it wrong.

In honor of awards season and really the Golden Globes tonight (hehehe always sounds like boobies), I have decided to write a little blog action on how they got it wrong. (You can expect one of these for the Oscars too...I adore the Oscars)
Now I LOVE awards shows. I have a whole set up. Champagne and chips and salsa for the Oscars. Why? I have no idea, it started one year and stuck...they don't even go that well together but hey. I may not have seen all the movies or really cared but dammit I've read enough gossip to know who to root for and who isn't worth it.
So here is my opinion on three times when the Golden Globe Awards got it wrong.
(Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one!)
The year- 2000. The Race- Best Actress in a Motion Picture Drama.
Here are your nominees. Ellen Burstyn (Requiem for a Dream), Bjork (Dancer in the Dark), Joan Allen (The Contender), Laura Linney(You Can Count on Me), and Julia Roberts (Erin Brockovich).
I think we all remember who won. Julia Fucking Roberts. She wore that fantastic black and white Valentino dress and very memorably thanked then boyfriend Benjamin Bratt (yum).
But did they get it right?
My answer-Nope.
I love Julia. That hair, that smile, for god's sake I know Pretty Woman by heart. And speaking of which, she had already gotten the award...for the deserving role...in 1991!
Now I fully admit I did not see all of Erin B. I got bored and turned it off, not a good sign. So here are my feelings on this one...they got it wrong. I did see Dancer in the Dark. Bjork was a-frickin-mazing. But the role was a little too artsy for some (not me). I'm pretty sure I saw The Contender but it was awhile ago...who cares, it's Joan Allen! I did not see You Can Count on Me but for christ's sake will somebody just give Laura Linney an award already, she's terrific!
Now, Requiem for a Dream I have seen...oh yes I have. And is there any way that you can tell me that Julia, dressed in leopard print and a push up bra, saving the town from the meanies at the plant beats out the brilliance that Ellen Burstyn brought to that screen? Is there? She was scary, vulnerable, funny, sad, and heart-wrenching. And she deserved that award dammit.
I will pause right here. Now Sara, how the fuck can you justify such a passionate opinion without having even seen all the movies? It's my blog, that's how.
Onward.
The Year-2008. The Race-Best Actor in a Motion Picture Musical/Comedy.
Here are your nominees. Ryan Gosling (Lars and the Real Girl), Tom Hanks (Charlie Wilson's War), Phillip Seymour Hoffman (The Savages), John C. Reilly (Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story), and Johnny Depp (Sweeney Todd).
And, of course, we all know who won. My sweet, incredibly talented, oh so deserving of an award Johnny Depp. And they got it wrong.
In just a few moments you will read how I feel about this movie version of Sweeney Todd but for now let's stick with Johnny. God he's gorgeous, he's so talented, he can do whatever he wants...except play Sweeney. I had always thought he looked too young, for one. And two, well...he really can't sing, really. He's ok but this is Sondheim dammit. I will not examine all of his competition just one. Ryan Gosling. Ryan Gosling who acted opposite a mannequin in Lars and the Real Girl...and didn't we all wish we were that mannequin? He brought to life this vulnerable, sad, innocent and joyful character with such ease and simplicity. And he should have won.
And finally.
The Year-2008. The Race-Best Motion Picture Musical/Comedy.
Here are your nominees. Across the Universe, Juno, Hairspray, Charlie Wilson's War and Sweeney Todd.
And who won? Sweeney Todd. And you guessed it, they got it wrong, for many reasons.
Let's examine the nominees.
Charlie Wilson's War...I've never seen the whole thing but compared to the other nominees I am disregarding it right now.
Juno-Funny, heartwarming, sassy. Could have won, I guess..but didn't, who cares.
Across the Universe-I LOVE this movie, I LOVE this soundtrack, I was pleasantly surprised by the performances, and I understand why it didn't win...although I possibly disagree.
Hairspray- Hairspray, Hairspray, Hairspray. How I loved John Waters' original. Ricki Lake, Debbie Harry and good lord Divine! I boycotted the Broadway play, I thought it was blasphemy. Then I stumbled across this gem of a movie and while I realize it is not really a "remake" I enjoyed it as much, if not more than the "original". It's a musical that does the "musical" justice. Nikki Blonsky is adorable, John Travolta is charming and James Marsden is fantastic. And don't even get me started on the talent of the dancers and singers or Amanda Bynes for that matter (I have a total girl crush). Like Chicago before it, Hairspray truly encompassed the movie musical and it was funny to boot, it should have won.
Why Sara? You love Sondheim, you love Johnny! Why choose a Zac Efron movie over that?
Here's why-I do not believe it was completely true to the script. What movie based on a play, book, etc. ever is right? The problem here is that the things that director Tim Burton chose to cut I believe, are imperative to the storyline and without them you completely lose the climax of the title character. He cut the chorus from a chorus driven story and in turn, I believe cut a major character and major motivation for Sweeney...and some pretty fucking unbelievable music, including one of my favorites, Judge Turpin's "Johanna" aka "Mea Culpa" which, disturbing as it may be, that's the whole point. It makes the Judge even more of a villain, which I don't think was portrayed as well as it could have been, by Alan Rickman...I do love him but he was not my favorite in this.
While there are things I thought were ok in Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd (the atmosphere, the way the bodies hit the basement floor head first and most surprisingly, almost all of Helena Bonham Carter's performance), unfortunately there was too much I didn't. I was disappointed because I think Tim Burton is amazing and I was really looking forward to it. It did not deliver and in my not so humble opinion, did not deserve to win.
Jesus, that was a long post! Sorry, next time I will cut it up into more than one. Anyhoo, there you have it. My thoughts on a few of the times that The Golden Globe Awards got it wrong. I know that there are more and I also know that there are people out there who will think I am full of shit.
I hope you enjoyed. And depending on the outcome tonight you may be hearing from me again very soon.
Peace out.

The List.

So I got back from the Holidays (to catch you up...Minnesota followed by Chicago), settled back into normal life again, and got a little bored. Recently I got very lucky and was able to perform with a bunch of talented folk. I also auditioned for a show but did not get it. I was feeling "uninspired", not so much "creative". These whole 5 and 1/2 days that I have been back I've wanted something more.
So here's the deal.
I have decided...NOT in a New Year's way...but in an "I'm needing to be creative dammit" way...that I will write on this blog at least once a week (maybe more;). Not about my daily life, my daily life is not that exciting right now (go to work, play with kids, check for dirty diapers, come home, walk dog, watch tv, go to bed). But observations...things I read, hear about, see.
Please feel free to let me know what you think. I would love to think that some of these might even be conversation starters.
Anyways. Today we start with The List. Not the ever dreaded NY list, no. The "mate" list. That list that we all make or made up before we get/got married. What we want in a mate.
I was listening to a local radio show the other morning and they were going through traits that people had sent in. I did agree with some (respect, intelligence) I was appalled by some that were missing, we'll get back to that. I thought I would do a little research. Here are some of the things I've found.
The Neanderthals had a formula. Women looked for security and commitment while Men wanted beauty. As that formula progressed it became Women wanting an older, established mate with money and security while Men would seek out a younger woman who was considered beautiful and fertile...i.e. "sugar daddies" and "trophy wives".
While I would like to think that this "formula" is a little dated I will not negate the need for security, commitment, and of course, a nice little hottie on your arm.
Fast forward to our age of speed dating, web dating and Mars versus Venus. We now have to be a little more specific. Here are some newer traits that appeared during some of my research.
Personality, Ambition, Chemistry, Spirituality, Character(meaning honesty, courage, etc.), Creativity, Parenting Skills, and Authenticity.
Whew! It's like a resume.
I'm sure I made a list. I'm sure it had traits like Italian, funny, loves me for me, not blonde, NOT an actor, has a muscular back....and so forth.
But what struck me most about all of these "lists" and "desirable traits" is that not one list said sense of humor! That has always made it on my lists as much as they changed over the years. It was even in my vows for god's sake. If you can't laugh on a daily basis, what's the point? (of course that's my opinion).
And that got me thinking about how much effort people put into these damned lists and fall in love with someone completely different.
To loosely quote The Rolling Stones... you can't always get what you want...but you might find, you get what you need.
I fantasized about a gorgeous italian man whose family owned a restaurant. My husband comes from a southern, military family.
I was hellbent on a man who was in no way, shape or form involved in the entertainment industry...especially not an actor. I married an actor who wrote a play that I starred in.
I didn't get everything that was on my "dream mate" lists that I'd been making since high school. But I did get the one thing that was on every list, the ever important (to me) Sense of Humor.
Everything else just fell into place the way it was supposed to.

And they're back!

I've been avoiding this post.
I didn't want to come back.
Don't get me wrong, but really I didn't.
We had an amazing trip to the mid-west for the holidays. We drove, yes drove, the 12 hours to Chicago, stayed a night with friends and headed out on the final leg to Minnesota.
We spent many a day with my niece and nephew, Moraya and Nathan, who are both getting so big and are so much fun. We partied a plenty with my parents and other friends and family. Christmas eve and day were nice and low key and we finished out the week with a couple of relaxing nights in the sauna and hottub.
Then we got to Chicago.
Oh Chicago.
(We're moving back, dammit)
We relaxed, drank, party hopped, drank, had an amazing (very expensive) dinner with friends, and played giant Jenga.
The best part of the Chicago trip?
Two moments come to mind.
#1-The first night we were there. We unpacked a little and then headed out to one of our old haunts. Nope, not the old haunt or the friends we saw there...but walking to the train. Just simply walking and talking with my husband. It felt so natural to us both.
#2- Pretty similar moment I must say. New Year's Day brunch. On a whim we decided to hit a local place for coffee, mimosas and green eggs and ham (yes they serve that...look it up "Kitsch'n" in Chicago). Again just simply having the freedom to get up and go. No warming up of vehicles, no worry about gas(the car's, not Ty's), not the slightest bit concerned about getting tipsy at 11am...we don't have to drive anywhere.
The drive back home was rough. We were tired, we had already spent 20-something hours in this car together, and we just wanted to be home.
Except maybe we didn't.....
(We're moving back dammit!)
Now I sit here, hopped up on Vicodin from my root canal this morning, thinking about our trip. It was good.
My root canal was not.