Oh, and...

This is my friend Caitlin. She is a rock star in all ways.

Also...

check out our play!

Kids These Days

A lot of my job involves research. Often, it can be cut-and-dry technical and historical research. But then there's the messy social history part, about customs, culture, socioeconomic status, and all the parts that shape a person's world view and thusly their style. It's easy to be weirded out by the fads of the past, thinking that we're all so beyond crushing bugs to make cosmetics or processing hair with lye. But then. But then. The word vajazzle shows up in Savage Love and you Google it. And what you find is just as weird as whitening your face with lead paint.

Well, now, this is just embarrassing...

...it's been over a month since I last posted. I've been out of town twice, in tech once, my social life is all topsy-turvy, and my apartment is a total wreck. But I'm not complaining, just making lame excuses. I'm a working artist, not a starving one. Even if working is bordering on ninety hours a week. I've finally come to appreciate something my father told me years ago; if I worked this hard in any other industry I'd be making either headlines or millions, or both. As much as I love my job, it's starting to look attractive. Then again, it's the end of the season and everyone's swearing to themselves that they'll turn down more jobs and figure out how to make more money and get a better filing system. But we're all going to work ourselves to pieces again anyway. And nobody really knows why.

I do get to see a lot of pretty naked people, however, and last week's wardrobe gig was particularly entertaining.

Flying Car Fashion.

I'm relieved and disappointed at the same time.

Press here.

When I was in school, I'd visit the town I grew up in and have to play the part of small town girl makin' it big in the city. Sure, I'm doing pretty well in my (then) new urban climate, but sometimes the encouragement went too far, "we're going to see you on the red carpet someday!" Well, thanks, but not really. I mean, you just watched the Oscars, right? Did you see the costume designers anywhere? And who won? Right, there you have it. I'm not really in this for the fame and fortune, which is good, because even the most famous and fortunate of us are making acceptance speeches while the world goes to the kitchen for another beer.

I'm behind the scenes for a reason, I'm uncomfortable getting my picture taken and feel awkward at parties. But I am a theatre person, which means I secretly love the attention even if it makes me blush. And, in shameless self-promotion, it's pretty sweet when reviewers give me a shout-out.

The Less Glamorous Side

Yes, yes, the opening night parties and the photo shoots and the fancy clothes, but also:

1) I have gone to Target everyday for the last ten days straight.
2) My credit card has been flagged and frozen because of huge purchases in strange places twelve times in the last month.
3) I spent the better part of my Thursday night laying on the floor of Chicago Dramatists looking at an actor's crotch, then having an in-depth conversation about the needs of his crotch.
4) I fried my Blackberry and experienced such debilitating anxiety that any one of my stage managers might need me in the twelve hours between the fateful spill and the fix.
5) I had to clear space on the kitchen table to eat lunch. It required moving a sewing machine and a pile of other people's pants.

And my stage manager just texted me... I have to go now.