Breakfast, Baby Ghal!

Blanche's adoption day, August 2009

A of all, while on our Chicago LZ trip with Bradley steering the massive van through the icy streets, he and I found it hilarious to mimic a rastafarian trying to pick up various "Baby Ghal"s. Like a woman walking with a Whole Foods bag became "Organic Baby Ghal" and pick up lines to her included "I'd like to see dat Kashi rump Baby Ghal!" I don't really know. At the time it was funny.

So, this morning I was feeing my hamster and to her/myself yelled "Good Morning Baby Ghal!" And, then, I looked at the Fiesta Mix I've been feeding her which labels itself as "More Protein! More Fun!" Wait...what? My hamster food is "More fun?"

More fun than what, and secondly, why do I care? What? Who marketed this stuff?
Then again, I did buy it.

Parents' Weekend

The last Parents Weekend Variety Talent Show I will ever be in. I was talking about the dress rehearsal with Pookie-

Alice: I have to go to rehearsal at seven for the Parent Weekend Variety...Gosh what a long name.
Pookie: Shorten it. Pee-double-you...okay not worth it.



It's never the best LZ show, but it is an LZ show, and I love the cast, and I love not being in charge anymore. Yesterday the show's director called us an hour and half early...not so good for a rowdy bunch of people with nothing to rehearse. We got antsy and started playing Truth or Dare (of all things to be doing in my last quarter of college). Bradley started making up dares about mooning the audience, and for a moment I started to freak out when I remembered I am no longer responsible for anything that happens with LZ. Oh, it felt so good.


Great Things about This Picture: XTian's pits & it's resemblance to the DVD cover of One Tree Hill Season One

Anyway, my dad was here. Doling out grades to all the acts as usual. Saying things like "This musical number? So what? C." and "From joyful to joyless--F."

This morning Pookie made us tiny almond croissants and we had a heated discussion on how we all hated our PE educations.

"Oh, I hated the rope. It's like...here climb this. It's two stories high. There's like...a little mat underneath you. And, I'm like 1) I don't like doing this and 2) If I screw up I'LL DIE. I mean...the mat is really just there to sop up the blood." - My Dad

The End of the Story

Bradley and I post Lazy Zip, February

Someone once told me he used to read my blog, but he was frustrated most of the time because I only ever tell the first half of stories, and I never finish what I am saying.

I just realized this is true about my auditions a couple weeks ago. I wrote about my audition and hopes, but never offered the satisfying finish. My dreams came true as I was awarded the part of Lady Quigley--Maid Marion's serving wench. The cast is phenomenal, and, yes, I get to be in scenes with both Bradley and Stripes. So, mystery solved if you were wondering.

It's late and this grate won't come down, come down. It's late and this grate won't come down.

Well. Guess Who I've Got in My Trunk?

Nac ruins LZ Babes shot, LZ Babes ruin me by shoving food in my face
Like a well I remember from one of Thomas Jefferson's estates in Colonial Williamsburg, there is sometimes a depth unimaginable. I was in second grade when we went on that trip. I was excited to see Felicity's (the Revolutionary War American Girl) property. While there, one of my prized souvenirs was a small cloth dolly. As our tour reached that dark well, bottomless, a took a chance and hung my new toy over the edge. My dad made an impromptu theme song "The Daring Young Dolly!"

I imagine that well, losing my grip, needing the longest chain for a bucket to lower down and fetch her.

Xtian, a great future director

I feel that well in myself today. The gratitude I have for improv comedy is bottomless. I have no other way to describe it. This year especially...the pre-show love, the endless support, the black out punch of Bill Cosby in Bradley's trunk, selling handsaws, jersey voices, the PERFECTION. Yes, I will say it. Yes, it was. Yes, it is.

I'm on the edge. I'm on the edge. I disconnect my heart my head.

The Perfect Art

My biggest hesitation with the arts, to quote Ben Folds, is that there's always someone cooler than you. There is. Nothing is new--ever in life--so why would I try to make something? Right? I don't like the idea of production, but I do like creation. That's why I love improv. It is the perfect art form.

No mater what you do, whether the joke has been made, it's the simplest scene in the book, it's a stupid game...whatever. It's fresh and you're bringing it to life by golly and who cares if its old or new because its there now and it'll never be there again.

Just had a phenomenal open rehearsal for Lazy Zipper. I have no idea how we're going to cast the show this year--the people who have been coming out have been so impressive in their own ways.

I love this photo of Nac and I dancing in the Perry Lounge last year during a practice round of Object Dance Off. February 2009.

Make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall. Oh, there's always someone cooler than you.