marvelous wonderettes by the numbers

Weeks of rehearsing: 6

Songs learned: 28

Lines memorized: 120

"That's the Queen of your dreams!" cue lines: 4

Performances: 8

Full costume/hair/makeup changes: 2

Inches of hair teasing done a night: 2-3

Inches that will need to be cut off hair thanks to teasing: at least 3

Years we time warped: 10

Times we embarrassed Mr. Lee: at least two a night

Nights in the Bowery: 3

Average temperature during performance: 90

Pounds lost: 8

Average hours of sleep a night: 5

Friends who supported us: dozens

Bouquets received: 3

Hugs given: dozens

Bites from my half-eaten sandwiches I got Stephanie to take: 2 

Thank you cards made: 10

Weeks I'll be vacuuming up glitter from the cast gifts: 6

Weeks of vocal rest: 4

Memories made: too many to count 

Thank you to everyone who came out to support us. This was such a fun show-hard, but fun. I will miss it terribly, but I'm ready to have my life back and to enjoy the rest of my summer!

choke

Picture if you will a cute brunette with a voice like an angel (her words, not mine-but you bet I won't let her forget it cause it makes me so happy!).

One bright and sunny October day she ventured down to a little building called the Delta Center (at least that's what it was called then-you might recognize it now as the ESA.) to sing a song. Not just any song, mind you. It was an audition to sing the National Anthem for our local team, the Utah Jazz (back when they didn't suck.). She was nervous, but ready. Then she stood on her red 'X' in the middle of the arena floor and began to sing to the crowd. It was awesome. Tone-perfect. Pitch-spot on. Projection-impeccable. She filled with pride as the swells of her music filled the arena. Then the unthinkable happened. "O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly gleaming---" then nothing. Silence. Her mind had drawn a complete blank. The one song she had known pretty much her entire life flew right out of her head. Even with the helpful calls of the next line from the other auditioners it was done. She couldn't get out of there fast enough-and proved it by nearly falling flat on her face running up the stairs to get the hell out of there.

Flash forward to the following year. She had been thinking about this day almost daily since the previous year, convinced that she must redeem herself and prove that the previous year was a fluke. So as she drove to the Delta Center she was nervous-worrying all the while that maybe this wasn't the best idea and that she should go across the street to the Gateway and see a movie instead. But she was determined. She HAD to show herself that she could do this-she had been to dozens of auditions-this one wasn't any different and she was going to RULE. Fortunately the auditions had been moved from the arena to a much smaller conference room. It was full, but not packed. As she took her seat on the back row waiting for her number to be called she could feel the paranoia coming back. As she fought off the urge to run she reminded herself she had this, she had been practicing all week in preparation, and she was READY. Finally it was her turn. She didn't start as confidently this time as she had the last, but it wasn't horrible. She started to relax and get into singing the song. Then it happened again. "O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly gleaming---" then nothing. Again? Really? Once again she thanked the judges (and quietly apologized for wasting their time) and left.

Afterwards she decided the two botched attempts was a sign she should never sing the National Anthem in public again. And she hasn't. For almost seven years she has not sung the National Anthem as a soloist.

Well folks, all of that is about to change. In just over three hours this cute little brunette is about to tempt fate again. I've been trying to keep my cool, but I'm not going to lie. I'm kind-of (ok, REALLY) nervous. Will I choke yet again and live up to the legacy I've created for myself? Or will I FINALLY get rid of my performer's block and do this dang song justice? We'll all know soon enough...

**UPDATE** I was calm, cool, collected, and  I remembered all the words-to be honest--I nailed it. I will be singing the National Anthem not once, at least twice, possibly three times during the Babe Ruth Little League World Series in August. (And after the crappy crap-tastic show I had last night I needed a little good news.)

everyone is born good

Last night at the show my dear, wonderful, darling Stephanie and I were talking. The Marvelous Wonderettes is at the Midvale amphitheater, and although it's a lovely venue like anywhere else it gets it's share of turd-heads. Well, we were talking about four adorable boys who looked like turd-heads but turned out to be the sweetest (and most helpful) boys around. It was then that Steph told me that all people are born good, they have to learn to be bad, and shared a great story.

Stephanie has a friend. Her name is Peggy. Her son's name is Jack. And Jack read a story about...wait. I'll just cut and paste Peggy's story-she tells it better than I ever could:

"Jack came home from school a few weeks ago talking about a book he'd read about a girl in Florida who raised enough money to buy bullet proof resistant vests for all of the K9 dogs in the state. He thought this was awesome and wanted me to call our friend who works for a neighboring police department to find out if their dog needs a vest and if so, he wants to sell sno-cones in front of our house to raise money. I was so touched that he would want to do that! He said, "They keep us safe, Mom. So we need to keep them safe too!" Then he decided that he would call his endeavor "Sno-Cones for Safety." Who is this kid? Love him! So we contacted our friend who got permission from the Chief and we are going to do this! The dog DOES have a vest, but they can always use money for training, food, etc. so we're going forward. If you would like to make a donation to Jack's "Sno-Cones for Safety" campaign email me your info at jackjacksmom@gmail.com and I'll tell you how you can donate if you're too far away to stop by for a sno cone. So every Thursday (Thoughtful Thursday), we'll be selling Sno Cones to raise money for Delta, their K9."

Seriously, how great is this sweet little boy? Of course I immediately went to her donate icon and donated $5.00. How can you say no? These K-9's work just as hard as their human partners, (and become members of their partners families) so they should be kept safe too!

Please go to Peggy's blog, read the story, and if you have a heart donate to this sweet boy's worthwhile cause. And then spread the word. Every little bit helps-let's help Jack raise more than his $300 goal!! 

til death do us part-or just til i'm bored?

I am a firm believer in marriage. I believe that if you choose to make a commitment to one person (civilly or eternally), you are choosing to make it work, no matter what, no matter how much harder it is than you thought. No matter what. It infuriates me when people talk about how  they view their marriages as disposable, and the second they are bored or the flame burns out it's done for them and they have no problems walking away. When I hear them say this I am equally saddened and enraged. With rare few exceptions there is NOTHING you can't work out and no flame that can be re-kindled as long as both parties are willing to work towards it.

I know a few of you who are divorced. I also know a few people who are still married who shouldn't be. With that being said I understand you can't save a marriage on your own, and there are some things that are deal breakers. I am not saying that all people who are divorced didn't do everything they could before choosing that path. I understand fully that you can't fix something if both people aren't equally committed to it, or things like abuse, adultery, or addiction sometimes make it impossible-and even dangerous-to stay. I am not talking about you. I am talking about the people who care so little about their marriage they are willing to throw in the towel before they've even begun the fight and see if there's anything WORTH saving, or simply because they're bored. 

 Spare me the condescending 'well you're not married so you don't know' crap. Yes, I'm not married. But Mr. Wonderful and I have been together five years. Before that I was with Superman Lover for five years too. I am no stranger to a committed long term relationship, and as far as I'm concerned the only thing that makes Mr. Wonderful and I any different from any other married couple is a piece of paper and the fact we don't live under the same roof. We have a good relationship, but it is far from perfect. We have been together long enough we have seen the ugly truths most people don't see until after they're married. We fight, and we've butted heads many times on how we'll raise our kids, where we'll live, how we'll spend our money, and much more. There have been numerous occasions that I have asked myself why the hell I'm with this man. I'm sure he has thought the same about me. The flame has burned both white hot and flickered down to almost nothing, but at the end of the day he is my partner. We will be with each other the rest of our lives and into the Eternities together. As crazy as we make each other, we love each other and want what we have to work-we are committed to making it work.

I can still remember how I felt the first time he kissed me all those years ago. I can still remember the 'newlywed' stage in our relationship and how excited I still am to see him after work. It's all those times that remind me of why I'm still here and why I want to stay. I just don't understand why some people have no problem walking away-especially after they've stood before each other, their families and loved ones, and GOD and promised to everyone they would love, honor, and cherish in good times and bad, in sickness and health, yadda yadda yadda, and then built lives, homes, started families with each other, just to throw it away because it got too hard and you don't want to try anymore. I guess if you say you're bored or done those void everything, yes?

I'm sorry if I offended anyone, that was NOT my intent. I'm just so sick of people who don't take their marriages seriously and view them on the same level as their garbage.

Oy. I'll get off my soap box now.

sometimes you just wanna scream

I'm LDS (Mormon). Am I as good/ or as active a Member as I need to be? Nope. I have my vices like everyone else, and I am constantly falling flat on my face. I understand that us 'Mormons' are a strange people-hell I was RAISED Mormon and I still think we're a bunch of weirdos. What I don't understand how people can be so heartless, disrespectful, and cruel. Working where I do I'm in the minority (for some reason Members shy away from foodservice-maybe it's the booze), and most time it's not a problem-just some occasional ignorance. Sometimes I run into people who are just jerks. It infuriates me to have to sit and listen to people poke fun and say what I don't believe isn't true. Or how they take delight in tormenting the missionaries that have been sent to them by people they know. I get the Church isn't for everyone, and I get that there are people who don't want the Gospel in their lives. It makes me sad, but that's the great thing about agency; we all have the choice to accept or reject the Gospel, and my only job is to respect their choice and keep loving them. Apparently some people struggle with that more than I do...

Is it really that hard to be NICE and RESPECTFUL of what someone else believes? I'm not Baptist or Jehovah's Witness, but I would NEVER be mean or disrespectful towards someone who loves their beliefs enough that they want to approach a complete stranger and share them.

Because I was at my desk and I have to maintain a level of professionalism and the fact I'm not very good at rational thought where ignorant people are concerned there wasn't much I could do, but I did do my best to defend my beliefs. I honestly have never had this problem. Most people are respectful towards me and what I believe and I've never wanted to punch someone in the face like I did my co-worker. 

I know I could have done something more, but I don't know what. Now I just feel like a turd because I sat there like a dope.

excuse me, but that's my seat

One of the reasons I love Facebook is it's pretty much the ultimate form of people-watching. I find it especially fascinating to see what REALLY pushes people's buttons. Sometimes I feel the fire in my belly flare when someone says something against things I'm passionate about, and other times I feel a kinship and an affirmation of why I'm friends with someone I see eye-to-eye with. Usually I find myself laughing at how fired up most people get about the LAMEST things. Today's controversy? Assigned seating in movie theaters. No joke. Had a friend post this as her status this morning:

"Assigned seats in movie theaters?! No. That is not going to work for me." 

Some of the comments that followed were hilarious-and surprisingly passionate for such a simple subject. I even heard someone was un-friended due to their views on the matter.

My first thought was "Really? I think it's a fantastic idea." 

Now before any of you get your knickers in a twist and start sending me hate mail for my opinion let me paint you a picture: 

It's circa 2005. You have been waiting with baited breath to see the midnight showing of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (don't judge me-I liked Episode 2 and 3) since the moment your friend got the tickets on pre-sale weeks ago. You rush home from work to gather the things you'll need to keep yourself busy for the next five hours while you wait in line. (No, we didn't camp out. We're hard core, but not THAT hard core.) Anyway, you get to the Jordan Commons around 7:30 or so and the line on the North Pavilion is already forming in the maze of dividers, but you can still see the doors so you're not worried. You spend the evening playing games and showing off your newly-acquired engagement ring (that may or may not be the reason this movie holds a spot in my heart-I got engaged that night before getting in line). Excitement starts to build around 10 o'clock because you know in just 30 minutes the doors will open and you're in primo line placement for a decent, if not AWESOME seat. 

Then at 10:45 it happens. The 3-4 people you have been making pleasantries with all evening let FIFTEEN people join their group ahead of you. No biggie, it's only 15 seats. Your little group of six still has a hope of sitting together and avoiding the dreaded first five rows. Eleven o'clock finally arrives and it's time to go in. There's a bum-rush once you got past the doormen, but you're finally inside. 

What do you see upon entering the theater? Those 15+ people who cut in front of you in line are now spreading blankets, jackets, purses, and anything else they can use to 'reserve' the primo rows in the center of the theater for heaven knows how many MORE people.
Needless to say you are pissed. You'd been waiting in line since 7, you'd played by the rules, and these jerk-faces were going to come in at the eleventh-hour (literally) and scoop up all the good seats? Well, folks, it happened. If I remember correctly our group ended up being split, and Superman Lover and I were banned to the back corner, fuming all the while. 

This was not the first time this would happen to me. I remember it happening for viewings of Harry Potter 3, 4, and 5, Spiderman 3, Superman Returns, and most of the X-Men movies.  To say it jaded me towards movie-going was an understatement. When Larry H. Miller's theaters started assigned seating I was all for it and drove the ten extra minutes it took to go there as the Jordan Landing right by my house had not yet jumped on the bandwagon. 

When Mr. Wonderful and I started dating he and I could never see movies together opening weekend because I hated waiting in line and being herded like cattle only to be jipped once I got inside, and for some reason he loved being an enforcer and keeping the bum-rushers at bay. Plus he prefers the Jordan Landing over LHM's theaters-but that is a blog for another day.

The Landing has since implemented reserved seating on their 'blockbuster' movies, and after a little resistance Mr. Wonderful now loves that we don't have to be to the theater hours in advance to fight for mediocre seats. I love it because I'm not having to have my personal bubble violated being herded like cattle or waiting in line for nothing. 

What say you? Yay or nay on reserved seating?