Peter Pan Proposal Video

Normally, I am not impressed by viral Youtube proposal videos. It just seems a little narcissistic to me. Yes, the proposer has put time and effort into making this grand gesture, but is it all about creating a romantic experience for your partner or about making it to the homepage of Buzzfeed?

I don’t know how I want to be proposed to, but I do know it would not involve the following:

  • Engagement rings tied to dog collars.
  • Flashmobs
  • Howie Mandel pranking me.
  • Singing of any kind.
  • Anything pertaining to high altitude including, but not limited to: hot air balloons, sky writing, or Denver.
  • Sporting events, with the exception of Michael Vartan proposing on a pitcher’s mound at a high school baseball playoff game.
  • Rings hidden in food or beverages.
  • Any sort of public place that puts us at risk of being applauded.

I’m a simple girl who would be happy with just a sweeping declaration of how amazing I am, set in a whimsical location probably equipped with some sort of outdoor lighting, ie: twinkle lights, lanterns, etc. The scene where Freddie Prinze Jr. professes his love for Rachel Leah Cook by the pool in She’s All That comes to mind. (A Never Been Kissed andShe’s All That reference in one post?! Someone call Alicia Keys because this girl is on fire!!!)

With all that said, this Peter Pan proposal video is the weirdest, most entertaining thing I’ve seen in the last 7 hours which means a lot because I spend Monday through Friday looking at all of the internet until nothing is left. Watch it and then see if you agree with my highlights:

  • Giant dog pulling focus.
  • Is this a steampunk rendition of Peter Pan where they sing “You Raise Me Up” at curtain call?
  • If this is how loud Jane cries when she’s being proposed to, how loud will she cry when her youngest child leaves home for good or when she watches her elderly mother descend into senility?

Ah, love! Ain’t it grand?

 

Throwback Thursday: Me in High School

I realized just now that I’ve never mentioned much about my time in high school on this blog. Since you’re probably having a tough time functioning in normal society without having even a cursory knowledge of my lower educational experience, I will regale you with some stories of my completely typical youth as a musical theatre nerd. I’d tell you about junior high when I was a chubby brunette who believed in fairies and briefly dabbled in Wicca, but that was a dark time we can revisit on another Throwback Thursday.

For now, we can start with the setting for most of my prominent high school memories, my community musical theatre group.

196747_1002761749449_2855_n{My brother and me posing in production photos for the show, A Year with Frog and Toad}

I wish I could say that I spent my weekends drinking in the woods with my field hockey team, but in reality, I didn’t spend any time with people I went to class with. Instead, for most of high school I was in one show or another and I’d spend Saturday nights watching movies like Basket Case in the basement of the girl who played The Baker’s Wife in Into the Woods. 

208318_1003443449473_9729_n {That’s me, wearing just a host of things that don’t match, with a basket on my head, reenacting a scene from the seminal classic horror film, Basket Case}

But, listen, we theatre kids had some boozy, all-American Pie style fun, too. I have some fond memories of planning cocktail parties with my best gal pal, Ian:

200772_1002779792906_1594_nThat’s a little greeting card I made with some vintage MS Paint software. And who is Muffy and Biff? Why, that’s the married, upper class, Connecticut WASP personas we created for ourselves that would throw these parties. Because who else would put out a spread of hors d’oeuvres and request that party guests wear festive cocktail attire? Certainly not high school students.

With all of this information, you might think I was too much of a loser to actually date in high school… and then you’d be WRONG. I had one boyfriend, and he played the Beast in Beauty and the BEAST, thankyouverymuch!!!

206777_1002780872933_3405_nHere’s a disposable camera picture of me when I was a sophomore during my boyfriend’s senior prom (ummm, yeah, my boyfriend was 18 AND played the title character in a New Hampshire children’s community theatre production… I can’t believe I wasn’t homecoming queen, either). I remember a few weeks before prom I had just bought my dress, and I was pretty angry with my boyfriend of maybe 5 or 6 months. He told me that saying “I love you” made him “physically ill” and asked if we could please go back to just casually dating? And I was all, “yeah, sure, that probably won’t contribute to any kind of crippling trust issues in my adult life!” But, I questioned whether I was really okay with this new arrangement. My dad told me that I could dump him if I wanted to, regardless of the $400 dress, but I stuck it out for a few more months. Then, a couple days after we went to the Oasis concert I bought us tickets to for his birthday, he dumped me over the phone.

With my best friend and her boyfriend (his best friend), we drove to the summer camp he worked at and I dropped off a bag full of his stuff including some Buddha beads he gave me for Valentine’s Day and his Beauty and the Beast cast tee-shirt. Then we stopped for lunch, and I held back tears in a Boston Market like the little soldier that I am.

After that, I vowed to never date another actor, until I dated another actor in college and, like, really vowed to never date another actor.

Flash forward to my own senior prom:  promThat’s me with my gay date. The proof that he is gay and not my boyfriend is that he has the same hair color as me and I would sooner put out a cigarette in my eye than date a fellow ginger.

I didn’t really want to go to my senior prom, but I knew my mom wanted me to, so I sucked it up. You can really tell that I didn’t care about going since I used the same dress I wore to my sophomore prom and because in that picture my skin color is at its resting tone. If I care about what I’m doing, you better believe I’m bathing in tubs of Jergens natural glow moisturizer until that main event.

Okay, what else, what else…. I own(ed) the Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical episode soundtrack, memorabilia script, and sheet music. I had some blunt bangs for a while. I’d go to Rocky Horror midnight showings, which is the symptom of the worst kind of theatre nerd. So, ya, that was high school for me. A lot of gay people and pancake stage make- up. I wish I had more pictures to show you, but it’s hard to locate them because Facebook wasn’t really a thing then. Which, by the way, thank GOD because I got into enough trouble with my DeadJournal. And then my subsequent LiveJournal. And then Myspace.

5 Things You Should Know About Being an Acting Major

Hey, high school seniors. You’re probably graduating soon, and maybe some of you are going off to college in the fall as an acting major. I’m happy you’re pursuing your dreams, and I’m sure the economy will pick up by the time you start job hunting four years from now. Just kidding, you’re an acting major so the state of the economy will make no difference to you. It’s just as hard to book a Sprint commercial now as it was during the Clinton Administration.

No need to worry about that just yet, though. This is all you need to know right now (from someone who went through it):

1. Teachers are going to make you do weird, weird stuff that you can’t tell your parents about. Mom and Dad won’t understand why writhing on the floor to a Celtic Women CD in a Jabbawockeez mask for 2 hours twice a week is relevant to acting or worth $40,000 a semester (because sometimes it’s not, actually).

That happened to me. I spent a semester breathing into masks shared by two other classes, and only by God’s grace did I not contract pink eye.

You will also be forced to cry a lot during those weird exercises. You’re going to have to play the mirror game at 2:30 in the afternoon and make yourself cry. And you have to do it because I’m pretty sure teachers deduct a tenth of point from your grade for every day you don’t give them at least a lip quiver.

2. Straight girls, venture out of your major and meet new people to date. I know you won’t even listen to this until you’re a senior and it’s too late, but I’m just warning you, you’re going to date the one straight guy in your class who will date all the straight girls in your class. Get all those ladies together and have a fun bonding experience with a group STD testing at the campus health center and then– cocktails!

But…

Straight Guys: Congratulations! This is what it feels like to be the last man on Earth! Enjoy sifting though the enormous amount of desperate women that are totally out of your league, yet willing to date you because there’s no one else around. You only have 4 years of this, so make the most of it.

Homosexuals: High school might have been hard for you, but now there are so many of you in one place. And same-sex dorm rooms! Consider it proof that God really does love you.

3. You don’t get to skip class. You don’t get to show up to a lecture hall still drunk at 8am and text until its over. You’re going to have to show up 10 minutes early. And then you have to cry.

4. Prepare yourself for the reactions you’ll get when you tell someone your major. Some people will admire you for following your dreams and think you’re this charming little free spirit. I mean, Manic Pixie Dream Girls certainly don’t major in aerospace engineering… amiright, Kate Hudson in Almost Famous?

Other people will do you the favor of finally spilling the big secret that acting is an unstable career choice. And they will always enjoy doing it.

5. You are going to meet sooooo many crazy people, but they are the worst kind of crazy because the only thing these people love more than watching themselves cry in the mirror is to have a lot of attention on them.

These are also crazy people paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to essentially learn how to lie effectively. So good luck dealing with that!

Fun anecdote about crazy people: I once dated an actor very briefly, and somehow we ended up fighting about whether or not he was funnier than Amy Poehler. When he stopped seething, I told him that I thought that if I ever pushed the wrong button with him, that he could just suddenly snap and kill me. He instantly soothed my fears by telling me, “I would never kill you. I want to be famous and that would ruin my career.”

He had a great point!

Smash: The Drinking Game

I love Smash. I think it’s terribly written, takes itself way too seriously, and includes every TV/Movie cliche imaginable, and yet, I love it still. I love it in the same way I love Degrassi: The Next Generation— it’s so over the top, but if you take it for what it is, you’ll grow to like it…but let me make it clear, I like Degrassi way more than Smash. Basically, any show without Katherine McPhee gets my vote for superior programming.

I did community musical theatre throughout my childhood and teenage years, and Smash is somehow both the most accurate and inaccurate portrayal of the Broadway world I’ve ever seen. Debra Messings’ shapeless sweaters, high buns and scarves? Accurate. A lady performs a technically proficient, but otherwise mediocre version of a pop song for an audition that elicits the producers to put down their falafel wraps, mouths agape because omigod-this-woman-is-so-refreshing? Never happened ever once. And definitely not to introducing Katherine McPhee.

Take this show with a grain of salt…. and a lime and a shot of tequila. It’s a mindless escape, that I’d like to make more mindless for you with… A DRINKING GAME!

SMASHED: THE NBC’S SMASH DRINKING GAME

Take a sip of your Smash Martini (it’s just a Manhattan… do you get it? I hope you get it. You get it.) every time:

  • Anyone mentions “the work.” (Theatre people love to talk about “the work.” As in, It’s all about the work. Just put your head down and do the work.) Take two sips if they use the word “important” to describe “the work.”
  • Tom’s assistant spies on someone.
  • Julia or her husband mention any form of the word “adopt.” (Which, by the way, is the worst, most non-sensical B-plot in TV. I can say this with conviction).
  • Angelica Houston has a cup o’booze, like the old theatre broad that she is. Three sips if she throws it in someone’s face.
  • Another character tries to convince the audience that despite Kat McPhee’s character Karen (but pronounced by nearly everyone as kAAAH-ren) having an emotionless face and no stage presence, she is going to be a STAR! Or she’s got that special something! What is it about that girl?!
  • Kaaaaahren looks like a bewildered and self-conscious doe in the woods (Karen is so INNOCENT and from IOWA so her reaction to everything must be humble confusion. [If you haven’t figured it out, Kaaahren will serve as this shows ‘Virgin,’ while Ivy Lynn and her scandalous name will be filling the role of ‘Whore.’])
  • Someone tries to explain What Marilyn Would Do and How Does She Compare to Marilyn? As in, “Ivy is too perfect at the role, and Marilyn didn’t try so hard!” or “You’re just like Marilyn’s first agent who always protected her!” and “Let’s watch Some Like it Hot while we get it on to see how Marilyn did it because you are so sexless and innocent, Kaaahren!”
  • They essentially plagiarize a scene from Black Swan when the director of the Marilyn show is a sexual predator towards any woman in his eye-line under the age of 35.

These same 5 things just happen over and over again in the script, so you should be pretty drunk by the end of this. Happy Drinking.