"Do you find it hard to type on your iPhone when you're %&$#ed up?!"

I'm obsessed with the blog culture. I read blogs all day at work... and evenings on my phone. I am addicted to the intelligent writing and spot-on witticisms that come from some of my favorite online authors. That being said, I'm a horrible blogger. It's one of my dream grown-up work-from-home jobs, and I'm mock-terrified that my dream will never come to fruition because I'm just so freakin' bad at consistently updating a blog. I'm even more mock-petrified at having nothing to say that is of any interest to anyone other than myself. In real life, however, (some) people at least seem to think I'm interesting and funny. So as many of my other posts have started, I'm going to try to get better at posting when I have something of note to actually say.

So I just started rehearsals for TOMMY a few weeks ago. I've unfortunately been taking way less initiative with the production company in the past few months as I went on a mother-daughter holiday to Italy with my crazy-but-loveable mother, a girlfriend, and her less-crazy-but-still-equally-loveable mother. When I got back, I had to hit the ground running at my day job in a new capacity. There are so many things I could possibly say about my day job, but I'm going to take some advice from a blogger that I look up to and not say anything about my day job that I wouldn't say to my boss' face. That leaves very little that I can say about it here. Long story short, I've felt divested from theatre after my brief hiatus and have placed more priority in maintaining professional contacts and personal relationships than getting any non-profit administrative work done. At our first rehearsal a few weeks back, my theatre boss/adoptive sister told me that we got the rights for one of my all time favorite shows and we'd be doing it in the fall instead of Sweeney Todd (and anyone who knows me knows that I have a hate-hate relationship with Sondheim based on some college experiences in my musical theatre classes). So the compound news that we'd be producing one of my dream shows and NOT (at least immediately) producing one of my least favorite shows has placed me in a dream-like trance for the past few weeks. I feel like I'm cheating. On TOMMY. With A Chorus Line. Show infidelity is really bad. It's like an emotional affair. I'm teaching "Pinball Wizard" and in my head I'm humming "Dance 10. Looks 3."

So at any rate, all of this to say that I went out to Brewers last night with my brother from another mother after my rehearsal. He was auditing the BTA auditions at CenterStage and met me immediately afterwards... with a stack of headshots and resumes in hand. We're awful people. We openly acknowledge it. We pored over these headshots and resumes with reckless abandon... judging... criticizing... laughing a little sometimes. That's the one saving grace that we have personality-wise in theatre-- we're allowed to judge people completely subjectively in theatre because it can all be justified and explained away.

As we finally found (out of a stack inches thick) ONE promising candidate for our fall show, I finally finished the Resurrection (the best microbrew ever if you haven't had one) I'd been nursing and we started preparing to go. I pulled out my phone (we call her Tydaisia) unceremoniously and checked Facebook statuses. It has become a tick of mine. I don't even realize I'm doing it. I'm trying to get better, but I might have to go to rehab. These two slightly inebriated (probably Hopkins) guys were sitting at the table next to us, and one of them leaned over and asked me how I liked my phone. We iPhone users are total elitists, by the way. We wink knowingly at fellow iPhone users when we see them on the street, and judge you if we catch you chatting someone up via a Blackberry or a Treo. I gushed, told him I loved it and couldn't imagine life without it. He then asked the most hilariously dim-witted question: "Isn't it, like, hard for you to type when you're #%&$ed up?"

Me: No, I don't really get that way... but if you haven't had your phone for that long, it takes awhile to get used to.
Guy: Yeah, I've only had it a few weeks, and I'm starting to get the hang of it, but when I get hammered, I can't type.

Then Troy (my friend) volunteered that he has large thumbs and finds it hard to type on said iPhone keyboard. Which, thanks Troy, just egged on drunk Hopkins dude #3 from the left even more.

Guy: Yeah, that's it. I just have huge thumbs.

and after a slight pause... "We'll let you guys get back to your drinks."

So we finished up, packed up the stack of headshots and resumes from the night, and I started to pull on my leather jacket. Because it was approximately -12 degrees outside. On May-effing-19th. And as I pulled on my outer layer, aforementioned drunk Hopkins dude #3 from the left grabbed ahold of my leather-clad elbow and said, "Have a good night." And then to Troy, "You take care of that lady, now."

Dude. It was a Monday night. If there's anyone that needs to be taken care of, it's you. I'll call up my friends Amy Winehouse and Lindsay Lohan... they'll take you to rehab with them for summer vacation.

How apathetic can Baltimorons be when it comes to our nation?

So I'm sitting in my office, playing Will.I.Am's "Yes. We. Can" music video over and over again because I'm a sucker for inspiration. I asked my co-worker who's similarly comparable to me in age if she was going to vote in the Maryland primaries next week. She said no. I chastised her across the hallway and she admittedly tuned me out.

Fast forward to 20 minutes later. To protect his privacy and whatnot, we'll call him "Dude." Another co-worker has this conversation with me verbatim:

Dude: Hey Tiffany... Osama Bin... oh crap. I keep messing up his name. OBAma. What nationality is he?
Me: (assuming he means race, and not nationality, since only AMERICANS can run for President. Of. The. United. States. Of. America.) Ummm... he's half black and half white.
Dude: Wow. When's the last time a black person was President?
::awkward silence::
Me: Dude, there's NEVER been a black President. That's why it's a big deal.
Dude: Wow. So there's a lotta history being made? Like, there could be a first woman President or a first black President?
Me: (disgusted with life) Yes.
Dude: But they're not like both on the same side, right? Like one one of them's a Republican or something, right?
Me: (attempting to step back from the ledge) They're both Democrats.
Dude: Oh, so it's not necessarily definitely history in the making. A Republican could win.
Me: (done) No, that's not exactly possible this time around.

And then another co-worker revealed to me yesterday that HE can't vote in the primary because he registered too late, so he's not eligible. He's 25. Just registered to vote.

I'm not quite sure why no one is realizing how important the MD/DC/VA primaries are on 2/12 after "Super" Tuesday proved to be pretty anti-climactic for the Democrats, but I hope everyone else cares at least enough to go out and let their opinions be heard. For those of you who have no opinions, write in Dave Chappelle.

Killing rodents at Spots

Oy.

It's been far too long since I'm updated this thing. I feel like that's the story of this poor abandoned blog. Hopefully one day I'll do better when life isn't as crazy... when I'm not doing five million things at once and my head isn't about to explode.

So yeah, I think I'll probably go to SPOTS tonight to see Mousetrap. Generally straight plays put me to sleep, but as Troy has said multiple times, the only other place we go and feel like we get our money's worth is SPOTS, and I haven't gone to see a show in a month.

So you can teach an old dog new tricks, apparently

Happy New Year everyone!

I discovered three really great entertainment/food venues in Baltimore over the past week that I feel the need to shout from the rooftops. You're probably cooler than me and might already know about these places, but in the event that you don't, I feel it best to share.

1. Tusk Lounge -- I went to celebrate a friend's birthday last Friday, and she started with a cocktail party at this plush hangout atop Baltimore fine dining go-to Brass Elephant. This ornate and opulent lounge is decked out with a marble bar and plenty of comfortable high wing-backs. The music was trendy but not overpowering, and it's within walking distance to The Belvedere and Brewer's Art, so it's the perfect addition to a yuppie Mount Vernon bar crawl. And with my $7 Ketel One and tonics, the price was definitely right, too.

2. Juno at the Landmark Theatre -- This is by far my new favorite movie theatre. It's got the movies that you used to only be able to go to The Charles and Rotunda theatres to see with all of the amenities (and more) of a huge megaplex like Muvico. Centrally located in HarborEast, this theatre boasts cushy seats with adjustable arm rests so that you can snuggle with your honey. There are two nearby garages which Landmark happily validates, so parking is only $3 for up to five hours (a steal anywhere along the harbor). The snacks are gourmet (a la Pellegrino and Phillips' crab pretzels), and there's even a fully stocked bar which we certainly would've partaken of had we not still been hurting from the Tusk Lounge the night before. It was definitely a great place to see Juno, my absolute favorite film of 2007 (not that I see that many).

3. New Years Eve Dinner at the Woodberry Kitchen -- My wonderful boyfriend offered me the choice between going to one of our standby favorite restaurants for NYE or trying out something new. Being the creature of habit that I am, I figured I would push myself out of my comfort zone and ask to go someplace new. My only stipulation was that it had to be in the City. He surprised me with this super hip, borderline tree-hugging space in Clipper Mill. He later shared that he picked this place not only because he had heard great things about it from friends, but also because it was far enough from downtown that we wouldn't get caught in the inevitable chaos that is the Inner Harbor New Years scene. Nestled in amongst the green condos that they've built at the mill, this big open space features a functioning wood-burning oven and waitstaff that wears jeans and down-home-on-the-prairie aprons. They subscribe to a "farm-to-table" philosophy, partnering with local suppliers to ensure that your food is super-fresh and that they are helping to supporting and sustaining the Chesapeake agricultural economy. Not up for dinner but still want to try this place out? The menu also boasts some delicious snacks ranging in price from $1 to $4 and small plates that range in price from $5 to $12 that would perfectly compliment one of their organic microbrews at the bar.

Well that's it for my past week. Can't wait to see the new stuff in store for this weekend!

The Kennedy Center has clearly lowered their standards

I'm in Florida for a few days visiting my madre for Christmas, so I feel a little out of touch with anything mid-Eastern related. Imagine my absolute ELATION when I switched the TV onto the last 25 minutes of the Kennedy Center Honors. I immediately felt a little closer to home. And then to make it even better, they were in the middle of honoring Leon Fleischer by performing Beethoven's Choral Fantasy. I felt all learned and artistic because 1. I knew who Leon Fleischer was and had seen him perform live in the last 5 years, and 2. had actually sung the Choral Fantasy (though totally during a traumatic time in my college career). It was still quite enjoyable until they panned around the audience and I saw Vanessa Williams and Kristen Chenowith in the crowd. Who let these ninnies in to the flippin' Kennedy Center?! Honestly... what have either of them done that requires talent? What am I saying? I LOVE Ugly Betty. Okay... let Vanessa in... kick Kristen out.

At any rate, then I saw the most insulting thing ever as they panned across the other recipients of the award: Diana. Ross. Really. Clearly a whole bunch of other people were on the short-list for the award this year and all must've turned it down or had previous engagements or something because... Diana? The only person that she's "inspired" is Beyonce... and all she really taught her is how to take over a pop group for yourself and make your fellow group members back up singers. I lost my gourd. They've gone from flippin Sydney Poitier to her ridiculousness. I got over myself, though. I mean, she is famous... she did have Barry Gordy wrapped around her wiry little finger.

So I had just recovered from Kristen and Diana, and then they started honoring Brian Wilson. Art Garfunkel called him the "Mozart of Rock 'n' Roll" which threw me for the loop, but I love that "God Only Knows" song that they play at the end of Love Actually, so I sucked it up. That is until the Kennedy Center decided to "honor" Brian Wilson by asking LYLE flippin' Lovett to sing it for him and a hall full of people. And then Hootie and the Blowfish sang two random songs followed by some scary English choirboys in white cult-like-looking robes. They apparently failed to tell Hootie and his Blowboys that people stopped wearing fashionable flannel around 1996. Poor Brian Wilson. I would've thrown myself over the balcony the second Lyle Lovett's croony voice started singing a song I wrote. And I know for sure that he's not nearly as mentally stable as I am.

Oh well. Better luck next year, Kennedy Center. Time for me to go. The news is on now, and in Florida, most people lack teeth. My stomach is starting to turn.

It's the holiday season....

...and I've been feeling more like a musician and less like a theatre artist lately. I'm sure all of that will change as soon as January comes around. I'm actually not sure which is better.

In the past week or two, I've been to two concerts (one at the Kennedy Center to see Paul Goodwin conduct Messiah), A Christmas Carol at Chesapeake Arts Center to see friends MW, CJ & JK, and finally to see Sweeney Todd on Saturday night.



I should start off by saying how glad I am that musical film adaptations are making a comeback. It brings a love of the genre to whole new generation of audience members, which makes me glad... I'll still have a job 30 years from now. I should then disclose that regardless of my zeal for musical film adaptations, I'm awful at going to see them. I saw Chicago in the theatre opening weekend. I didn't see The Producers at all. I saw RENT, but was highly disappointed. It took me 3 months to finally see Dreamgirls in the theatre. I still haven't seen Hairspray. So imagine my surprise when I overlooked my disdain for Sondheim in favor of my blind lust for Tim Burton and Johnny Depp to see Sweeney Todd at the Charles Theatre on Saturday night. I really enjoyed it... which quite surprised me seeing as you couldn't PAY me to see Sweeney Todd on stage (especially not the most recent revival with flip-top Patti LuPone the Avenue Q puppet).

The film was probably my favorite musical film adaptation since Chicago because it was actually a good film and not just a show put on stage. There was a lot of blood, but the cinematography was beautiful. Tim Burton clearly cast actors and not singers since he has to cast that blasted wife or life partner or whatever of his in every movie. She acted the crap out of the role... probably more than Johnny Depp, but she sounded like she was highed up on the crack everytime she opened her mouth to sing. The most memorable moment was probably By The Sea. I almost killed myself during Green Finch and Linnet Bird, and every time that Gerber Daisy playing Anthony Hope started singing Johanna (which is definitely like once every 25 minutes), but the comedic genius that is Sasha Baron Cohen made up for it. And that's my stream-of-consciousness review in a nutshell.

My favorite thing about going to The Charles is that it's attached to Tapas Teatro, one of my favorite affordable restaurants in Baltimore. I go to the restaurant way more often than I do to the theatre, but whenever see a movie there, it's a built-in excuse to eat before or afterwards. It's beautifully decorated for Christmas now, so if you have a chance to go before New Years, I definitely suggest it.

I hope everyone has a safe and celebratory Christmas holiday!

The ACL revival

I know this isn't about Baltimore, but I was in NYC this weekend. We didn't plan in advance to go and see a show... the strike just ended a week or two ago, so it wasn't like we could've made reservations ahead of time. At any rate, as soon as we got off the bus around 11 am in front of the Winter Garden Theatre (Mamma Mia), we headed over to the TKTS booth to see what was going on. The bus driver told us that because of the strike, he had heard that they weren't offering tickets 50% off, and we'd be lucky to get 10 or 20% discounts. Much to our surprise, however, we found a list 3 screens long of tickets to matinees all 50% off. Stephen said I could pick whatever I wanted to see. I started to make my list(for which I'm sure I'll be judged): Spring Awakening, Avenue Q, A Chorus Line... and then I saw it at the very end of the last screen... XANADU! I started jumping up and down and screaming like that announcer dude on The Price is Right had just called my name and said "COME ON DOOOOOOWN!" Stephen even agreed that the tongue-in-cheek roller disco romp was a good choice since it was something like 70 minutes with no intermission, so we could get in and out and still cram lots of stuff in our short day in the city.

We stood in the long but quickly-moving line and got to the window within 45 minutes. When we got there, we were informed (by the super rude woman behind the window) that there were three tickets to Xanadu, but we couldn't sit together. We went to the second choice of A Chorus Line and got mezzanine seats for $45 + tax. Despite the fact that I'm a singer before anything else and the original Bway cast recording is horrendous because they're all dancers before anything else, I've been obsessed with ACL for awhile, so I was super stoked.

We ate at Playwright's Tavern and got out just in time to run the few blocks back to the theatre to get seated. In keeping tradition with his totally charmed life, 6'5" Stephen complained to an usher that he couldn't sit in the [way-more-cramped-than-the-Hippodrome] seats and asked if he could move to an unoccupied end seat in an adjacent row. She told him no, but then let him sit in an unoccupied box by himself so he could lounge to his heart's content (can you imagine... paying $45 for a $200+ seat?!). The show was everything I expected and more. There were three understudies on. I can't remember which ones were. Everyone was amazing, though. And the singing was so TOTALLY on point. And I got to see Deidre Goodwin ("And then he ran into my knife: he ran into my knife TEN times" from the film adaptation of Chicago) as Sheila, on whom I have a small woman-to-woman crush.

Overall, the Broadway experience this go-around was quite enjoyable. If only the Chinatown experience that night had the same outcome....