les mizing part 2.

Goodbye high school musical 2009. And what fun. I get to bask in Clin's glory and credit without having to do a thing.

Except show up for the final product. Smile a lot. And sale tickets. And last night ticket sales were the thing.

People lining up at 5:30 pm for a 7:00 pm show?

Yeah.

And a line for tickets before the ticket tables were even in place.

We sold all 1315 seats last night. 4 cases of water. 2 dozen roses. and lots and lots of cookies.

The cast was hyper.

I missed my favorite line: Le Marque is dead.

But I did see the end. And the audience roared in gratitude.

And I say it's great to get to watch the students improve without having any real responsibility for it.

Which means that I just get to sit back and enjoy.

les miserables.

Millie and Ellis sat through Clin's High School production this morning.

A middle school matinee. The entire auditorium full. And we were surrounded by adolescents. I expected faculty tossing students out, taking away cell phones, sshhhhh-ing, and all of the above.

But alas. It was not to be. My girls were louder than any students. It was as if the middle schoolers were hypnotized (which says a lot to the production quality - nice work there Clin-0). And I was the only one taking people out.

It wasn't that they were crying, or screaming. But loudly asking questions:

Mom, what is happening?

They're prisoners.

Why is there smoke?

It's fog.

Where's the bad man?

Not on right now. He will be back soon.

Why is she dying?

She is sick.

Mom, it's just pretend dying.

Yes. Just pretend.

Why did that cart fall on that man?

It was an accident.

But why did it fall on him?

I don't know. So the large man could pick it up off of him.

What is happening?

Um....those women are trying to get money from the men.....

Millie: I want to sit on your lap.

Ellis: (pushing) No, get off.

Millie: Everytime I sit my underwear goes up my bum.

That last part was screamed.

And by the end of act 1 all candy/snacks had been devoured and the girls were crying hunger. But again - it was boredom.

Although Millie did sit entranced for most of the 2.5 hours. Particularly fond of Fantine, Javert, Master of the House, and One Day More.

Ellis just liked it when everyone was asleep. On stage.

You're invited to come and like that too.

Photo from Here

the chaperone.

i spent my weekend as a chaperone. lurking and listening. ready to pounce the second something went wrong, or someone left their room.

reminding everyone:

to whisper,

close doors softly,

walk down halls,

whisper,

and again,

whisper

so the older couple on our floor weren't disturbed.

they were disturbed. 50 teenagers do not understand the meaning of whisper. neither does clin.

but it's fun watching them succeed. and learn. and react. and cry.

and i feel invested. and it's really nice to get to know them. and that's the best part.

photo via erjkprunczyk

thinking...

...that i shouldn't have given clin's student the receipt from IKEA for the purchase of 18 chairs to be used at the high school. because here it is 11:48 pm and i'm just learning that said student did not give said receipt to said husband.

...that IKEA is very family friendly, thank you for watching my girls so that i could purchase 18 chairs. but not very teacher friendly. because they will not take school checks. or tax exempt forms without the actual teacher and the actual teacher i.d. all on the premises. at the same time.

...that i didn't get enough time to think of vaccinating my girls for H1N1 and did it in a rash decision. i hope said decision was right.

...that i'm tired of leaving my daughters home. without me. two weekends in a row. did i just say that? let it be known that i did. and i meant it.

...that shakespeare can be very boring. very, very, boring.

...and that i think morrie was much more interesting than the book. or the author. (oh, come on, he totally made that book about himself. admit it.) and i hope the play makes up for it. but i doubt that it will.

saying goodbye to...

my favorite part. ever. or at least this year. i love u matilda. thanks for the fun.

new friends. and lots of talent.

the flash of my camera. and the realization that i can no longer take pics of everyone at the cast party.

so here's to some more (thank you Facebook - where were you when i was in high school? - and Hilary for posting) who didn't make my pre-drop memory card.

both casts.

and to fun.

clapping.

I believe that everyone should have one time in their life when they receive applause for their work. Better yet, we should all have a fan club that gives us kudos for organizing, or typing, writing, computing, disciplining, examining, road work, changing diapers, and every other form of work we are doing.

Saturday was my day. But I had actual applause. Matinee performance and with each short jaunt across the stage, someone clapped, or yelped, or laughed....just a bit louder than normal. And applause for walking across the stage with a flashlight? Never happened to me before. But it did on Saturday. And everyone in the cast assumed I had some friends in the audience, but the only ones I knew of were my visiting teachers - who are older, and might clap, but definitely would not yelp or applaud a flashlight cross.

So I was puzzled. But enjoyed it. And felt crazed, elated, and a bit hyper. Okay. So maybe it was the diet coke. And maybe I was imagining the support. But even imaginary friends giving imaginary applause can make for a whole lot of imaginary fun.

And what a job. And why should entertainers be the only ones to feel like that? That is so unfair. So I would like to suggest equal opportunity applause. And if anyone needs some, let me know where and when - and I'll show.

photo via Multiple fragments of tissue

shaking it up a few more times.

I've been shaken. And am trying to leave you in a better state.

A few days of continuous screaming, hitting, hanging on, and pushing = a delicate soul on the precipice of being the final petal dangling until torn on the loves me not.

So onto happier thoughts: I still have 6 more moments of villainous revelry and plenty of angry inspiration.

You haven't seen this yet? You should. Tickets are going fast. I'll be there M, W, F, and the next 2 Saturday matinees.

Out of state? Don't have the money? Hate theater? Here's a sample of the crazy.

Thanks to Julia and Nina for the pics!

a klutz.

Join me in reinacting last week. Through pictures.

This first picture is of a wound that I earned during last Wednesday nights performance. At the time I had no idea it happened. Just a bit of pain in the elbow. I looked down and saw blood. It doesn't look bad now, but at the time I was like, YES! I'm sacrificing all for my character.

I don't have a picture of Friday night's injury. A little difficult to take.

*Spoiler Alert* During the show, I carry a bullhorn. When bringing it up to my mouth to speak, I forgot to stop. And whacked myself in the lip. Complete bloody lip. But only when I smiled.

Saturday Matinee: I stabbed myself in the elbow. Again. Only this time I needed a bandage. But at least it helped me discover the cause of the elbow pain.

Let's look at the two together. Shall we?

Awesome. And I will now have scars that will forever remind me of the fun I'm having.

a fan.

I spent last Thursday setting up the gymnasium at the rec center for the Library Gala. The annual fundraiser that the library board is in charge of putting together. This was my first. And I was willing to do what I was told. Fill cups with ice, pour water, serve dessert, clean up.

My highlight? Meeting Hesther Rippy. A beautiful, beautiful woman. In her eighties. If I could describe her in colors, they would be silver, black, and red. And she stood out. Walking, living model, stand out. Showing up at 10:00 AM, in full makeup, hair and dress, Hester helped set up the tables. Stunning. Serious, I should have taken a camera. But it turns out I didn't need to. Why? Because she's famous.

Gorgeous. Right? Totally.

The evening's act was the Thrillionaires. And I am now their biggest fan. We're talking Mel from Flight of the Conchords type fan. Their pianist brought his own piano. A real piano. *Love it.* (Serious? Who carries around a real piano? Side note: He is also a piano tuner. Who knew that piano tuners could make the impossible possible.)

The musical they created focused on a small town: new mom (secretly wants to break dance) and son (who thinks he's pregnant but discovers it is only a burrito), move to town. The hyper cheerleader finds out she is in love with the son, and her dad disapproves (has a secret that we discover he thought he had been pregnant and given birth to his daughter 16 years earlier). You still with me here? Local pizza owner likes to fight crime on his own. And they find out that he took a baby from awful parents and left it with the dad (so it was actually a burrito - not pregnancy).

Entertaining. I know!

Saucy stuff. Especially for little town Lehi. I laughed. So what if a little too loud. So what if the people at the surrounding tables looked at me. I think pregnancy from burrito is funny. FUNNY.

seeing and clutching air.

I get to wear awesome possum clip-ons for All Shook Up.

And why can't I wear pierced earrings?

Answer: Oh, I let the holes close on up about ten years ago when I jaunted over to Madagascar... and just haven't felt the need to open them back up.

Back to the Story:

I tend to have nights on stage when they refuse to stay on. The earrings, that is. This week, as I gazed lovingly at Matilda's love interest, I felt a tug on my skirt.

What? Am I caught on something? Is my slip sticking out? Is my skirt tucked into my bloomers? Do I look down? Do I ignore?

I chose to ignore. More tugging. So I looked down. And an elderly woman in the front row was stretching her arm up to me. Holding my earring.

Do I take it? Pretend not to see it? How do I do this without breaking the 4th wall? How long will the woman hold it up if I continue to ignore?

So I took the earring. Pretending that it magically appeared in the air. How else could I explain the strange phenomenon?

And then last night, I slipped and fell in the middle of my song. (I have a song!) That's what I get for running in heels. That's what I get for wearing heels.

Gasp. Did everyone just gasp? The entire room just gasped in unison. I think. Stand up. Stand up already.

So I did. And finished the song. And I now have the knee of a 5 year old! How great is that.

shook up.

Not like I'm obsessed. Or anything.

But a critic came to last Friday's performance.

Read all about it here.

shameless...

...okay a small bit of shame in my personal piece of self-promotion. But it's pretty great. And I'm not talking about me, but the musical in general. It's a piece of cotton candy fluff with deep undertones of love, and happiness.

I got a lot of joy out of watching the other cast on Saturday night. That's right. I love it so much that I chose to celebrate Valentines with this musical piece of happy, rather than my own husband. (Who was carefully making peace with his other love.)

It also happens to be the reason I've been neglecting this blog.

I've had a really great experience. And I'm completely in love with my character. I never want her to go away.

So come enjoy some Elvis tunes. A whole lot of humor. My personal attempt at dancing, and probably the last musical I will do for another 5 years.

Hale Center Theater Orem - Now through April 4

I'm in the Monday, Wednesday, Friday cast. (Although not March 4th). But my double is really great as well.

So go see it whether it's me....or my double.

getting personal.

I'm really not feeling inspired. I used to come up with 8 blog posts a day. But all my inspiration is being funnelled into Matilda (currently my alter ego) and yesterday I gave Matilda 4 plus hours of my personal time. Doing her make-up, trying to fit short hair into a pony tail and curling all the pieces that fell out. Incorporating bobby pins into each curl so that they weren't visible to the human eye. Mixing a couple of foundation colors to find one that might match my current skin tone of pale. Shaving. Yeah, Matilda shaves. Who knew? And plucking the brows. And then there was the eye shadow. Lousy eye shadow. The inventor of eye shadow is not on my list of personal heroes. And to those of you sporting it daily - you are. Kudos to you for dealing with it. And making it work.

But before the process of beautification, there was the lovely 2 hour jaunt to the store. With the 2 girls. During nap time. Who's idea was that? Matilda. I totally blame Matilda. For bobby pins, hair spray, glue for fake eyelashes, makeup wedges (which I forgot), and the crowning glory of Matilda-hood......a nude leotard with bra incorporated. You know, cause Matilda would never do a quick change in her all togethers. I tried on 4 nude leotards at Wal-Mart. (Yes, they have them. Count on Matilda to answer the most pressing questions of the day.) And all 4 were a bit tight, but I guess that's the point; to hold everything in. But instead of getting the one that was the least tight, and best fitting? I had to try my luck and go to Kohls. (None in my size. Small on top, and long and large everywhere else.) And then to Target. (No one piece leotard.) And then back to Wal-Mart where I chased down the lingerie cart as it was returning items and could not find the only one that was my size. And Ellis threw the last pack of smarties on the floor as Millie was trying to steal it from her hands, and I knew that we were through. And that's when I spotted it. At the bottom of a cart full of clothes that had yet to be sorted. And I dug through the cart and rescued it for Matilda.

All things I would never do for myself. But for Matilda? Anything.

surviving, part 1.

Survival Mode. That is my existence. I am sitting on a couch next to a pile of clothes that has been sitting here, unfolded, much longer. The house is a museum. Untouched. I haven't been home in the eve since Saturday.

And the past few days have taught us that the girls in this family need their sleep. One night is fine. But two nights of bedtime at 10:00 PM equals anger and madness. And hours of screaming. Loud. And that's just the girls I'm talking about. I'm not even going to touch on my personal tantrums of late.

Taking the girls to the high school for the Musical Theatre review on Monday, Millie took her shoes off three times (each) in the car before I could get them both on. At the same time. Once out of the car she threw herself in the middle of the road. and screamed. Then as I walked away (no cars were coming. I totally checked.) she stood up and screamed. Black snow dripping from her knees, black tears dripping from her heart.

Then, just to get through the 2 hour performance, Ellis ate more candy than she has had in her life. And my talent for mothering shined. Blinding those in the vicinity. First we pulled out the Pez. I thought: this will last through Act I. 5 minutes later I was already reaching for the suckers. Millie's was a blow pop - which was smart, right? Because after the sucker part was gone, she would still have gum, right? That should have gotten us home. But the gum ended up in her stomach. And turned into a stupid idea when she screamed to be taken out for a drink.

Act II. We broke out a bag of sour skittles, a bag of M&Ms and a couple bottles of water. Eventually making it through, thanks to the amazing help of Kelly and Melanie. THANK YOU. That's right, 3 adults to 2 toddlers? And we survived.

So I had every intention of recording my favorite songs and putting a video up for you. I managed one song. Shaky, with appearances from Ellis's hand. And she even breaks into the chorus of Feist's 1,2,3,4. But I've failed at loading the video. Failed.

photo via chop1n

caught...

I'm madly grading papers. And soon I'll be madly grading final exams. And madly trying to find time to clean my house before my madly awesome group of young women come and visit on Wednesday. For which I need to make some mad preparations. But tonight I went to my first madly official rehearsal of All Shook Up where I learned that I'm probably a bit mad to be doing, but madly excited in reality. (opens Feb 13 -April 4 - come hear my mad solo.) Look at those mad skillz in self-promotion! And madly need to find a bell for Millie to jingle madly at her preschool Christmas performance on Thursday as well as someone mad enough to switch me gymnastics set up this week - or watch my kids at the mad hour of 10PM. Anyone up for the mad dare?

In all the madness, what happened to day 15 (it is the 15th. right?) of our Advent? It sits, madly steaming at the fact that it is not opened. But Millie and Ellis did madly open a box from Grandma and Grandpa (mad props!) with presents (one was written to Emma. M & D - want me to madly rush and return?) and mad amounts of books & decorations. Excitement madly ensued.

And I'm off to madly pray for Ava (mad love to the Virginia Summers).

re-examining my fill.

What is it about actors? Every time I'm in a room with a whole bunch of them, I think - ahhh! Why do they each have to be the loudest? The funniest? Why do they each want the attention? And then I think, please don't ever let me be like that. And I turn into the quietest, shyest person in the room. So much so that I tend to blend into the background.

This is one of the reasons that I don't like auditions. Did you know that I once lost a lead part in college, because I was not socializing with the final other 3 actors in the room? And do you know why I wasn't socializing? They were already friends. They already knew each other. So I listened and smiled on cue, and did my best to act like they were funny (although I didn't really care), but it wasn't enough. And the girl that got the part deserved it. And it was better that I didn't. But it hurt. Because when the director tells you that it is between you and the one other girl that got it.... and says that she just needs you to be funnier...

So how can you be funnier on cue? Especially when you know that you are being compared right at that moment and everything is riding on you being funny.

And that leads me to the other reason I don't enjoy auditions. Comparisons. It's all about the subjective opinion of a few people. Watching you. Comparing your looks and your talent in that one moment. The original audition? When it is you, standing there, in front of a panel of people - not so bad. The callback is a different story.

You enter a room full of people. Some know each other and tend to make this very apparent. If you happen to be one of these lucky few, you cling to those you know. It is what gives you confidence.

And then, if you don't know anyone - you either try to meet people and create some semblance of support, or you sit in shy solitude. I've been in each group, but usually shy solitude is my corner of choice.

But everyone, every single person in the room, watches the performance of the others. And they start sizing up their competition. You always know who you are up against. And in my case? I always know who is better than me. And you pray that you can read early, or that no one before you will make the same choices that you plan to make....or else you will have to re plan your scene/song.

And most callbacks you walk away feeling lousy. Because you sense who connected with the material, or who connected with the director. And you know that you weren't well enough prepared.

So I don't enjoy callbacks. Acting is all about callbacks. That is the life of an actor. And that is probably why I became too practical to continue wanting to face such comparisons.

But - and let me put this in a way that might be understandable to at least the tween girls of the world - So you know how Edward (Twilight. duh.) needs to leave every once in awhile to get his fill of bear blood? And then he can call it good on his cravings for at least a few weeks? - that is how it goes with acting.

And last Saturday morn I had my fill. And walked away from a callback ready to conquer something. Adrenaline pumping. Lark like in my happiness.

Because sometimes, not often, but sometimes something clicks. And you leave a callback sensing that for once you made the right choices. And click. It fit. And it felt good. And it doesn't even matter if you get the part. Because that feeling, that moment, can sustain you for at least another two years.

friday snacking. part 2.

After eating all afternoon, our 2.5 hour walk led us to the conclusion that we needed some real food. Pomme Frites.

We shared a Double and 3 dipping sauces: War Sauce (Mayo, Peanut Satay, and Raw Onion), Parmesan Peppercorn, and Pesto May0.

This is a tiny store. Full of charm. Not a lot of seating. But enjoyable and oh, so good. The menu is full of sauces. And all they sale are fries. Double fried fries. Belgium fries.

Fat, full, and happy, we waddle over to South Street Seaport. First goal? Find a restroom. It was a worthy goal. One that seemed to overwhelm us this day, as we were up and down Manhattan, with only Popeye's and McDonald's which required purchases to pee. (Urinetown reference, my friends.)

So a free restroom (Hallelujah), and then purchasing our play tickets from TKTS. Funny thing? We also hit the Gap. The shopaholics that we are, children's Gap clearance in NY is awesome. $5 skirt, $5 dress. And then %25 off of that??? What? And if we were to find something like that in Utah - there would be nothing left for us.

On to SoHo. We had a little time to kill before our evening show. Why we headed to SoHo, I cannot remember. But we ended up at a small shop, recommended by our travel guide. Vosges.

This is where I will admit that our snacking went a bit too far. Vosges sales chocolate. Thinking that we could get through the show without dinner, we grabbed a drink.

I ordered the Elixir Couture Cocoa: ancho & chipotle chillies + Ceylon cinnamon + Madagascar vanilla bean + dark chocolate - this is spicier than it looks. Or sounds. I didn't hate it. But I also wasn't wanting spice. What was I thinking?

Clin ordered the Bianca Couture Cocoa: Australian lemon myrtle + lavender flowers + vanilla + white chocolate. He liked this. I did not.

And then their ice cream sucked Clin in. Naga Ice Cream: sweet Indian curry + fresh young coconut + creamy custard ice cream.

So imagine - I combined my spicy chocolate drink with curry ice cream. At the time it seemed right. And then we walked out and I realized it was wrong. So wrong.

We headed to our evening show. August: Osage County. The only thing that I knew about this play was that it entailed 3.5 hours and two intermissions with a dysfunctional family. Oh, and it won the 2008 Pulitzer Prize.

I went in thinking that my mind would wander. I left knowing that this would be my favorite performance of the trip. It was amazing. The acting was exceptional. There is a scene at the dining room table, with the sisters and their mother, toward the end of the play. I loved it. My favorite. Throwing dishes, yelling, swearing, awesome.

And Estelle Parsons, the actress who played the mother, blew me away. And she is 81 years old. And she performs 8 times a week. And she is in the play a lot. I'm in awe.

3.5 hours felt like 1.5. And it made me feel something. It made me think. It put me in a state of thought. Wonder. Enlightenment, maybe. A place that I used to find a lot. When I was in high school. But a place that isn't found so easy now. And it was nice to visit.

After a day of snacking, we were hungry for something substantial. Not a morsel. Or a taste. But a meal. So we hit the Burger Joint. The intrigue of this place? It's hidden. It's in the lobby of a fancy hotel. Behind a curtain. No one will tell you where it is. There is no sign.

Once you walk behind the curtain? It's a loud, messy, New York burger joint. And the food is so good. And the people behind the register only want cash, and they want you to order now.

We sat next to a man who knew the owner. He received a free pitcher of beer. Barely drank it, and offered it to those around him when he left. We stuck with our milkshakes, listened to the loud music, and tried to decipher the famous signatures on the walls.

a friday in New York or snack like you mean it! part 1.

I hope it is taking you as long to read these as it is for me to write them. Sorry for the break in the story - but you've had plenty of time to eat, run to the restroom, and freshen up. Now we return to the great New York adventure of 2008.

Friday's first stop? The Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle. It's an upscale version of a Utah mall. The picture above is the view from each floor - looking out on Central Park. Nice.


Normally, I would have no desire to visit a mall on a vacation. I'm not much for shopping. But it houses food from Thomas Keller. I need to give you a bit of a background to help you understand just what this means.

Clin and I enjoy reading books about food, chefs, food critics, and food. The first time I heard about Thomas Keller was when I read Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table by Ruth Reichl. Good book. A bunch of food writers mention Thomas Keller in the same sentence as four star, best food, amazing, gastronomical feat, and every other positive adjective you can imagine. They often talk about his restaurant, The French Laundry which is in California.


Then I read Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter, the true story of a waitress working at Per Se, Thomas Keller's restaurant in New York City. Fascinating book. Read it and you will begin to understand our interest.

See the blue behind this tree? It is the door to Per Se. At the Time Warner Center. Not a door that Clin and I will be able to enter. Any. Time. Soon. But I felt privileged to be in its presence.

Thomas Keller views eating, cooking,and food as an artistic, whole body experience. So much so that the meals at Per Se are $275.00 for one dinner. Yep. They offer a different menu every day. It always consists of a 9 course tasting menu, either vegetarian or the chef's choice. Reservations can be made two months from the day, and fill up quickly.

So I stared at the door, lovingly. Stared at the menu. And moved on to Bouchon Bakery, the bakery for Thomas Keller's restaurants. Hoping to get a taste of what hides behind the blue doors, we ordered the following.

From top, clockwise: cherry cream cheese danish for Clin, cherry pistachio brioche for me, macarons for later, and a chocolate almond croissant to share.

Heaven. Heaven. Heaven. Even Clin's danish (of which I am usually not a fan) was wonderful. And if you have never had a Parisian macaron, fix that now. If you see one, just buy. Don't think. Just buy. I always do.

Enough with food, and on to shopping! We are such shoppers. Clothes are all we think about. (Ha! right!) But we made an exception to see what the big brouha-ha was regarding Century 21.

This store is insanity. It is a huge maze of racks and shelves of clothing. And it is crowded. See the image above for our Where's Waldo moment. Can you spot Clin?

Evidently you can get name brand items on the cheap here. I wouldn't know. I had a panic attack. I had many, many panic attacks. There were so many people here. So many floors, racks, small spaces, lines, and people. One would have to search deep to really find what they are looking for. So that means time. And I panicked because we did not have time. And Clin does not have patience for my style of shopping - which entails a lengthy look until I find something worthwhile and cheap. (Cheap for me is probably really, really cheap for you. Or free.)

So we left. My panic left. And on to my most anticipated moment of the trip!!!

Clin arranged for us to participate in the Original Multi-Ethnic Eating Tour of the Lower Eastside from Big Onion Walking Tours.

History. Food. My two favorite things about NY. I love the buildings. I love that within such a small area, one can find where so many important (or unimportant) events in history occurred. All of our travel guides have highly recommended Big Onion Walking Tours. I have always wanted to go on one - but with the high school students in tow, this was never possible.

In a group of 20, we were led by a PhD student from Columbia. Our first nosh was fried plantains. As we ate, our guide pointed out the spot where Boss Tweed died. There is a high school on the spot now that is the most ethnically diverse in New York. And, interesting fact, Walter Mathau graduated from it.

Next stop, The Pickle Guys. See this picture? It's barrels and barrels of pickled goods. Olives, tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms, celery, carrots, kraut, horseradish, herring, lox, EVERYTHING PICKLED.

A complete dream. I have discovered my future. I should completely open a pickling shop in Utah; using a seasoned mixture of brine, and making the most amazing food. And then my family will live off of pickled delights. I'm giddy with the thought.

We ate complete sour pickles. Mmmm. The best pickles I have ever had in my life.

Halva - we then sampled this sweet Middle Eastern treat. Made from sesame seeds and honey, it was really nice.

Lychee - we headed into part of China town, which is expanding (in case you didn't know). My mission dream was always to come home and open a greenhouse in which I could grow lychees. I have not yet realized this dream, but this little moment was a nice reminder from the past.

Here is Clin eating a dried rose petal. It is the red piece in his hand. It tasted nothing like a rose. We also had dried plums. Ymmmm. I wanted to bring some home - but the store name was in Japanese, and I cannot remember it at all.

On to Little Italy. Parmesan, fresh mozzarella and salami. I'm in love with cheese. I'm in love with Parmesan. I'm in love with Italy.

We ended our walk in the heart of Little Italy, eating small Cannolis. These were better than large cannolis. Why? More crust to the cream. A better percentage overall. And the taste lingered in my mouth the rest of the afternoon. Delightful.

This was the experience of experiences. The next time Clin and I go alone, I plan on booking every single Big Onion Walking tour. Every. One. #1 on my list? Greenwich Village.

Stay tuned for part 2: Will the snacking continue? Will it ever end?

a thursday in new york. part 2.

After lunch we split up. Clin had a great deal for our evening show and headed to the box office to purchase tickets. I ran back to the hotel to drop off a bag and make sure our room was switched. Good thing I went back because they forgot (shocker!) to take care of our room switch. New room keys, awesome room, beautiful smell, and we met back up at Letterman.

Here we are in the standby line. There was a group of about 40 waiting for standby. And a HUGE line to get in. (Side note: we were pretty poorly dressed compared to those who had tickets. That alone should have excluded us from getting in.) We were told that we had to wait in line until all seats were filled and then they would fill only the empty seats.

That is when we learned that John McCain was on the show and we thought we had noooooo chance of getting in.

After an hour of waiting for everyone to get wanded by major, MAJOR security, we got in. We were the last 2 let in. I'm serious. We. Got. In. Balcony seats. And while Letterman's head was hidden by prompters, I had a great view of his hands. Fun, fun, fun. This is what I noted:

• The base player was crazy. But very entertaining.
• They actually allowed for the commercial breaks.
• Letterman took off his suit coat every time they went to break.
• His mug was refilled half way though the taping, McCain's was not.
• Letterman did not talk with McCain during the commercial breaks; instead he was surrounded by the same 3 people (I assumed they were writers).
• And I could tell that Dave was saving the Gordon Liddy line until right before the commercial break. I liked that part.
• I'm glad that Letterman was tough on McCain. It made the show interesting.

Oh, and the musical guest was Ne-Yo. He had awesome white shoes.

Here's a clip of the show. Fast forward through the commercials at the beginning. Oh, and the people laughing? That's us.



After supping on the delightful combination of entertainment and politics, we headed south to our Broadway show - 13. I love the composer/lyricist, Jason Robert Brown. Haven't heard of him? You need to fix that. Like now.

So 13 is about thirteen year olds. The script itself feels very......thirteen. The music is the best part about it. Oh, and the actors are extremely likeable. No one in the cast is older than 17, and even the band is 18 or younger. Overall fun. And I kept thinking, imagine if you had a class of high school students this talented. The world as we know it might end.

To give you a taste, here is a promo that was on MTV news.

Celebrity Sighting #1 - Jason Robert Brown and His Wife and Daughter were in the audience that night. They walked right by us. The second Clin realized who we were sharing the room with, he perked up like a pigeon. (Do pigeons perk? If not, please replace with the perking animal of your choice.) And while I tried to explain that he already had his signature and a picture with him (Mr. Brown came to the Utah Theatre Association Conference a couple of years ago and we stalked him then.), Clin heard not a word. He was out of his seat and getting the signature for the program which he can now frame and hang on the drama room wall. Mr Brown you are very gracious. Thank you.

SideNote - I keep thinking, many families had brought their own children to see the show. But like I said, it is very thirteen. In. Every. Way. Would I bring even my thirteen year old? Clin - would you?

We were out of there by 8:30. That's right. No intermission and 7:00 PM start equals early out. So we did what anyone would do. Eat!

Clin had a hankering for Mexican. We tried Rosa Mexicano. $14 guacamole. What? But they make it at your table. You get to see what is in front of you. And it was a lot. A. Lot. Here's our demonstration.

We shared an entree of mole that was pretty good. The waiter, again, seemed disappointed because we didn't order drinks or two entrees. But we ordered an appetizer the size of an entree. What do you expect? I didn't get a picture of our meal, but I would say it's no better than what we can find in Utah. Nothing out of the ordinary or special. It did taste good.

And the day ended. Happy. Excited. Crashing to the sounds of Letterman on the TV.

chaperoning my past and seeing my future.

In many ways I will always be in high school. I will never, ever leave. And this past weekend was a reminder of this fact.

As one of the official chaperones for my husband's drama program - I get the luxury of going to the Shakespeare festival each fall. This year was the first in 4 that I have not been pregnant or breast feeding. And the normalized hormones were a welcome addition to the festivities.

My highlights:

1. No kids. Or, at least, none of my own. I thought of them often but did not have to wrangle them.
   


2. Teenagers dressed in black. Laughing, dancing in parking lots, yelling, hyper. And the one walking in circles around a tree, yelling angrily, didn't even phase me. Except to marvel at the fact that I used to hang out with other brooding teens dressed in black and yelling.
   


3. A student lost his shoes. Seriously. And attempted to walk around campus barefoot and in the rain. After purchasing flip flops he received a call learning that another school found his shoes on their bus. How does this happen????
   


4. We ate fast and fried for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then I had some more for snack.
   


5. Clin directed the final scene from Taming of the Shrew. As a western. Who doubted it would work? Me. And it totally worked. 2nd place -and performed for everyone. Shazam Clin.
   


6. I am still invisible to teenagers. I think. But a couple proved me wrong by putting my suitcase on the bus, and offering me an animal cracker.
   


7. Dancing performances to inspire. And someone needs to put them on YouTube so that I can link them here and share them with you all.

And that is it. My life as a chaperone.