Today. I was informed by tonywinningcostumedesigner Paloma Young that if anyone under that age of fifty can pull of pantyhose, it is yours truely.
I then proceeded to have Tony Taccone tell me I was right, it would be a good idea to give the audience snacks during a kick-a-superhero style play with two intermissions.
all while wearing a yellow, fur pillbox hat.
so for the records that’s
Amy: 2
The World: 0
And counting….
Today I told Dan le franc that I would only hold the door for him if he wrote plays with more women in them. It’s almost 2013, if we’re gonna be at the forefront modern theater, it’s the least we can do. Chivalry of feminists ain’t dead yo!
I’m not really sure why I’ve become the laziest person in the world and replaced the written word with photos, but if I continue my fears are:
a. i will forget how to form complete sentences
b. people will think i am mentally challenged because i will order my food by pointing at pictures on a menu.
c. my food options will be limited to only restaurants with picture menus.
So here’s what I’m thinking…I’m gonna pull my shit together, and get back to writing nonsentical jargin about what I find hilarious, and other people likely don’t understand, or think is weird. Like woah, my coworker got paid to put pit pads in peoples clothes tonight, and I go paid to put flowers in their hair. But at least my job isn’t troubleshooting email to prevent it from going into consumers spam folders, because that, dear readers, is SOMEONE’S REAL JOB.
I may have suffered a small mental breakdown/crisis of conscious/embarassing situation involving smearing my dior mascara today, but found myself enlightened by a nice young actor, who when asked why he moved to New York, responded: “I didn’t know what else to do, I wasn’t that great at school, I wasn’t going to be an english major or a mathematician, and I liked doing this.” I proceeded to give him what he called a “badass haircut” while confessing that I spend four months listinging to the Some Nights album on repeat. He had done the same.
Later I realized a bunch of his hair had found its way into my apron. So I will proceed to make both a voodoo doll and a clone for my intern. Because, when I was but an intern, I would have expected the same.
It’s rare to be saddened by the end of a show.
but I find it humorous that this time it falls in line with my annual purchase of new tech underwear because I now own more dirty clothes than clean ones—a tradition that always falls in a serious time of back to back techs.
Perhaps a sign that the eight week’s of the Red I did too many shows…
Or perhaps I just need more undergarments.
I miss the red paint already.
Every year when the gala rolls around, we are suddenly swarmed by different departments clothing needs, so we play the fun game “what’s your outfit, and what’s your problem.”
One day I hope to turn it into a game show, drinking game, or potentially bet on it, but considering that no one in our department is independently wealthy, betting peanuts would get us nowhere, except to feed our neighborly squirrels.
For the second year in a row, I have masterfully planned my scheduled to make attending the Gala physically impossible (unless human cloning checks out) but, at the end of the day, when Rita Moreno decides she needs a dresser and the company decides they need a Rita Wrangler, who you gonna call?
Oh yeah. me.
So, for this season’s edition of wYowYp, I’ve got a serious one:
Outfit: None.
Problem: Lack of outfit and physical inability to wear shoes that aren’t riding boots or sneakers.
damn you riter. you get me every time. if only ACT had called and I could have dressed their Gala host, Darren Criss… le sigh. maybe next season.
Les Waters: Artistic Director/Male Model.
One of the better ways to supplement one’s theatrical income.
My dad. Being grumpy and moody.
(via poolsofmagnolia)
Source: us.gant.com
A guide to finding a man at work.
YESTERDAY
Me: So, any new suitors in your life?
Eliza: No, but this really cute guy came to the box office window today.
Me: Oh yeah?
Eliza: Yeah, but my hair was braided and all messy, because I didn’t care.
Me: ELIZA!
Eliza: Yeah, my mom told me thats why I have to dress up for work.
TODAY
Me: Nice hat Eliza
Eliza: Thanks.
Me: Is that just a ploy to seduce male patrons?
Eliza: Yep.
Girl’s got game, those patron’s don’t stand a chance.
Everyone seems to be looking for the next great style blogger. Why does no one hunt for the next great theater technician blogger?
I guess I’ll just cry into my blacks now, and understand the next absurd Beckett reference made on television.
And continue to pray that the new HIT SMASH will bring some sort of sparkly fame to my forgettable profession…
It’s pretty sad when the pharmacist and I have to tell his staff that some people actually do work on Superbowl Sunday, and that includes us.
It is also pretty sad that the pharmacist looked like he wanted to cry. I however was ecstatic. Drugs AND a room full of people not allowed to watch the superbowl, SCORE.
Happy highest rated day of spousal abuse.
I other news, I have now experienced the Pinkalicous series, and believe that Alex Zeek is correct in stating he could write a better children’s book, but for adults. His thoughts were dildolicous. I’d rather stick with drugs or alcohol…ex tablets with hipster moustaches that teach children to look at their pills before they take them, and never accept drugs from friends or strangers…
clearly, children’s books are in our future…if the whole quick changing people’s costumes for a living doesn’t work out.
you also know you’re too into your job when you start to fight over who is going to preset accessories because you want the dressing tables backstage to look like Macy’s display cabinets.
Thanks to a poll from Ghostlight cast members, the winky face has been defined.
When used in a text message, the winky face can have two meanings.
1. Scenario: You and your friend make egg salad, and add a ridiculous amount of salad. You take it to a party and watch the hobag that cheated on your friend pile some on her plate. You text your partner in crime “Great Salad (WINKYFACE)!”
2. Scenario: The person texting has either seen you naked or hopes to see you naked in the future. The winky face is ALWAYS something inappropriate.
Proceed eye spazzing with caution.
