Just the two of us

I have absolutely loved reading all your responses to the vacation question.  If you didn’t get a chance to read everyone’s comments, please do.  You are a very smart group, and I am privileged to have you as friends!!

My dad emailed his comment to me privately, and I asked his permission to reprint it here.  I think it really hits the nail on the head.

“Parenting, while it may involve several decades to achieve “leave father and mother and cleave to his wife” or other independence, is designed to be temporary. Marriage, on the other hand is designed to be permanent.  Invest in the lifelong task first, and the parenting will be a mutually shared responsibility that is rewarding …most of the time.”

Now I don’t know about the “mutually-shared responsiblity that is rewarding” part…I’m not reaping many rewards in the parenting department these days.  But somehow I have to separate who we are as married partners from who we are as parents.  I think I have to find  rewards in the marriage, and perhaps traveling together for more than a couple of days would be a great start to that process.

Here’s to us…the TWO of us. 

We can make it if we try.

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

I heard a guy on the radio say something that really caught my attention, and I want y’all’s opinion.  He suggested that it is more important for Mom and Dad to take a vacation than for the whole family to take a vacation.

Now, I come from a family where family vacations were of utmost importance.  I have no idea how my parents afforded it, but they made it happen every summer.  We trooped across the country in the sta-wag with a big foam mattress in the back so we three kids could lay down.  (Seatbelts?  We don’t need no stinkin’ seatbelts!)  Our parents would wake us up in the middle of the night to get of Houston before the traffic, and by the day’s end we’d either be in Florida or we’d be almost out of Texas, depending on our destination.  One of the reasons I love Disney World so much is that it is a place that holds the most amazing memories of my family:  parents married, both brothers alive. 

In Hubs and my little family, we have made week-long family vacations a priority as well.  Some of our trips occur with other branches of the family, but we have also taken trips with just Sweet Pea.  In fact, we are planning such a trip to Florida this summer.

We have also tried to make “just the two of us” vacations a priority, but they are generally weekend getaways, and are not at the top of the list.  In other words, if something has to go budget-wise or time-wise, that’s what goes. 

I’m intrigued, however, by the idea of switching the order of importance between the two.  What if the most important thing is that Hubs and I got to take a week’s vacation alone, and if it works out to take Sweet Pea somewhere for the weekend then that’s fine, but it’s not mandatory.  Have we made our children too important?  Isn’t the relationship between husband and wife supposed to trump the relationship with the kids?

What do y’all think??

Say Cheese!

I don’t think I told y’all about the photo shoot.  (If I did, well, that’s just more proof that my memory is going and I’m getting old.)  Two weeks ago I got a call for a photo shoot for the Pajama Game poster.  I was told to come in make-up, and that I’d be wearing a men’s pajama top and heels (Great…fake smile).  First I panicked, then I called my sister-in-law (who works in print advertising in LA) for some tips on making my legs look great in three days.  She recommended the spray-on pantyhose and I went straight to the store for a can of miracles.  So when the day came, I sprayed on my legs (that stuff actually works!), did my fifties make-up, found a wig, put on the pajama top, and headed to the stage to have the picture taken. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the cast was already onstage in a music rehearsal.  We’ve known each other exactly four days.  And I have to walk in wearing nothing but a pajama top and heels…AWKWARD! 

The director  took a bunch of pictures of me, and some with my leading man as well.  I felt like I was naked…the top would start to droop in the front so I’d reach around and yank it from the back which gave the everybody a great view of the rest of my business.  It was good times.  I survived, but getting my picture taken is NOT my favorite.

The final poster was in my inbox last night.  I’m going to tell you straight up I have never had my picture on a poster before, and it is REALLY weird.  When you’re performing you’re not watching yourself, but seeing yourself on film is a whole different ballgame.  There’s a disconnect…it’s hard for me to believe that’s actually me.  Very surreal.  And it definitely adds the pressure!! 

So I’m going to let y’all see it, not because I’m bragging or proud, but because you’re all part of this whole process now, and I don’t want to leave you out.  Y’all are my secret cheerleaders…the voices of encouragement in my ear when I’m losing confidence.  And I love you for it!!

I know a dark secluded place…

I’m feeling extremely guilty about my lack of blogging lately, and yet I know there’s a really good reason, and I find it sort of fascinating.

I am completely in my head right now.  All of the preparation that I am doing for the show has my imagination working 24/7, yet I don’t feel like I can share any of it with you.  I have the sense that if I share it, any potential magic will be gone from my performance.  I don’t really understand it, but it HAS to be my secret.  She is the most complicated character I’ve ever played, and I’m determined to get it right.

So rather than open the vault, I thought I’d let you in on the process.   I’m sort of juggling all these, letting them infiltrate my subconscious so that they’ll appear onstage as I develop my character. 

As you know, I’ve done a ton of reading about the period (1950’s).  That has pretty much stopped now that I’m focusing on the script. 

I find that I can connect to a character through music that is unrelated to the show’s score.  Right now I have three different playlists that achieve this goal.  One is a bunch of Number One Hits from 1954, plus other music from the fifties that sort of rocks my boat.  Another is contemporary music (theater and pop) that lyrically parallel the story I’m telling.  The third is from the Broadway recording of The Pajama Game; but only the songs that my opposite (“Sid’) sings to me.  (Since Harry Connick, Jr. played Sid, it’s definitely inspirational, if you know what I mean.)

For every scene that I am in, I have answered a jillion questions about the who, what, when, why, how, etc.  What is my goal?  What are the obstacles?  I am trying to figure out my emotional journey through the show, and much of that comes from script analysis.  The rest comes from the gut, and that’s the hard part.

I am working out the back story for my character.  I’m doing this long-hand, in a journal.  And maybe someday I’ll post all that.  But right now it’s still sketchy.  It has to be something that sparks my own emotions in order for me to be able to make it meaningful.  Like I said, I’m working on it as it comes to me…trying to be patient.  (I’d love your help with my research!)

In rehearsal I am playing around with physical choices for my character:  How does she stand, walk, talk?  She works in a factory, so does she have chronic pain?  If so, where?  What does that look like?  She is serious, but needs to be likeable; how do I keep my face light and fun while keeping her tone businesslike?  It’s sort of scientific, and yet not at all.  Again, there are choices, and then there’s just the gut-level instinct  that has to take over.

Then there’s the romantic relationship.  The best way I have found to describe this show is that it’s a chic-flick, and I’m the chic.  So there are certain things that this relationship needs to achieve in order for the audience to feel satisfied.  How do my partner and I live that out on stage?  Keep in mind this is a guy that I barely know in real life, but somehow I must achieve intimacy with in performance.  It’s tricky. 

Now add the logistics of singing and dancing to the mix.  I am a trained singer, and most of the music is fairly simple.  EXCEPT ONE SONG.  It is the hardest thing I have ever sung.  Theater singing is all about placement:  making the notes sound bright and brassy.  There are different ways of manipulating the voice to achieve those sounds.  In this case, I am doing an uptempo song while belting extremely high (E’s and F’s, for those keeping score), except that I don’t actually belt, I mix, which takes twice as much energy.  It’s just hard.

And the dancing??  I know there are a few of you who spent some time on drill team, etc. in your younger years.   I didn’t.  I am NOT a dancer.  I am a “singer who moves”.  (That’s actually what they call it.)  But in this show?  Double pirouette, tour jete, chaine turns, chaine leaps, jetes, and LOTS of lifts (fish, swastika, me on his shoulder, me falling off his shoulder…)  Good gracious, it’s a challenge.  I’m getting skinny, though, so I’ve got that going for me.

So that’s where I am.  It’s more fun than I’ve had in ages.  I’m loving every single minute of it.  And maybe someday I’ll feel freed up to share all the secrets.  But for now? 

The vault is locked and I’ve hidden the key.

PS.  17 points to the first person to name the song from which I found my title…no googling!!

Brie Research

Okay Ladies (and I say ladies because only my female readership responded), you did so well with my first little research project that I would like to further employ you with a second:

Movies in which the leading lady has loved, lost, built a wall, and then opens herself back up to love again.  Know what I mean?

GO!!

Coming Home

Oh, boy, blog readers, do I have something fun for you today!!

To start, a crazy story:

Once upon a time there was a girl who fell in love with a boy.  They were boyfriend and girlfriend for more than three years, until the girl went off to college and decided it was time to “see other people.”  It was a mutual break-up, and they stayed good friends.  Being a year younger, the boy stayed home that year, and then came on to the same college when it was his turn.  By this time the girl had met and fallen in love with another guy, whom she would eventually marry.   But since she and the boy were still friends, she set up the boy with her roommate/sorority little sister.  And THEY fell in love and got married. 

Isn’t that a sweet story?  And it’s TRUE!  And now, my sweet Brian and Amy have adopted two Ethiopian children to add to their brood of four.  They recently returned from a month in Africa with all their children, and Brian put together a great picture blog about their journey.  So get out a kleenex, and then go check it out.   And when you’re done with that, scroll through the other blogs that he has written since they’ve returned.  Lots of fun stories with the kids’ perspective on their journey.

Enjoy the weekend!!

PS.  Clearly God knew what he was doing.  I could never be the mother of six children, but my darling Amy is just the girl for the job!

Velveeta Research

Okay, y’all.  I am seriously back-and-forth on whether to post this.  At first it sounded fun, now I just think it’s stupid and cheesy.

Maybe I’ll just delete.

Oh what the heck.  One of you probably has just the information I’m looking for.  But please read this with the knowledge that I am keenly aware of the ridiculousness of this request.

I want to know your favorite movie kiss.  There.  I said it.

Here’s the deal:  It has to be just a kiss.   It should be more than a peck, but it can’t turn into something else.  It has to start and stop.   And it should say you are the one I’ve been looking for where have you been all my life let’s do this forever or something along those lines.

Ready?  Go.

Single Parenting with Dick and Jane

I grew up with a single parent – my dad.  He’s INCREDIBLE and later went on to write a book called “Single Parenting with Dick and Jane”.  I must admit I never read it.  (Is that terrible?)  But I’m curious if the chapters were titled anything like this:

Chapter One:  Cereal for Dinner (Last night Cocoa Puffs, tonight Lucky Charms)

Chapter Two:  Homework…I’ll do all the work if you’ll just write the answers

Chapter Three:  Forget bedtime stories; Crawl in my bed and we’ll watch some TV

Chapter Four:  I have a meeting, so I’m going to schlep you off to the neighbor’s for the fifth time this week.  Maybe they’ll feed you.

Chapter Five:  This house is a PIT, and I just don’t care

 Hubs is out of town AGAIN and I’m single parenting for the second week in a row.  May I just say HUGE PROPS to those of you reading this blog who are actual single parents.  The fact that you do this job 24 hours a day without a partner is amazing to me.  Because I suck at it.  We would never eat, we’d never get anywhere on time, we’d never get anything done if it weren’t for Hubs keeping us on track. 

So SHOUT OUT to you girls flying solo.  You ROCK.

(Editor’s note:  I’m not sure what’s with the ALL CAPS today…apparently my fingers felt these words warrented being SHOUTED AT YOU.  My apologies.)

Me and My Shadow

I think one of the hardest parts of being an actress is finding the line between your own morals and those of your character.  A character is just that:  a character.  She is not me.  She is not Katy in a costume.  She is Catherine Williams, or Anna Leonowens, or Portia the Ugly Stepsister.   She lives in a world that I don’t live in.  She makes choices that I might not make.  She wears clothes that I wouldn’t wear, and even talks differently from me. 

But at some point, my own moral compass has to be okay with that.  Because even though she isn’t me, and I am not her,  I am playing her, and thus I must be at least okay with her choices on some level.  There are certain things I would never do onstage.  There are other things that I wouldn’t do in real life that I am fine with doing onstage.  Because it’s not me. 

And then there are the grey areas.  The “gee, this is awkward” areas.  But is it awkward because I’m inherently sort of a prude?  Or is it truly wrong?  These are the things that keep me up at night.  And it would be easy to say “well, if it gives you pause then that’s your conscience telling you not to do it” but I know my own moral compass sits WAY to the right, so I might never do another show if that was the gauge. 

I do not undertake a character lightly.  I’d like to think that’s what makes me good at my job.  But this seriousness produces all kinds of “working out” in my head as I continue to separate myself from her, so that I can truly BE her.  That’s what acting is…becoming someone else for a little while. 

Figuring out how to be her without selling out myself…that’s the challenge.

Opinion, please

Okay, people, I need your honest opinion about something.  I suspect there are going to be a variety of responses, so don’t be afraid to voice your personal views.

I want to know how you’d feel if you took your elementary-age child to a “family-friendly” musical and the last song is a VERY catchy tune with the phrase ”hell of a” repeated throughout.

Does your family consider hell a “bad” word?

Would this bother you?  How much?

Is there an age for your kids that it would no longer bother you?

Feedback, people.  I want feedback.