I'm noddin' my head like "Yeah"
Movin' my hips like "Yeah"
Movin' my hips like "Yeah"
So far, 2010 really has been just about as much fun as ridin' around with the Teeny-Bop music turned all the way up and the top rolled all the way down. And I don't care who you are - that's fun.
The ARC New Year's Eve Ball was a SMASHING success! I felt ever so pampered when treated to a sneak peek at the new Loews Midtown Hotel (details very soon). Vince Vaughn tied the knot. Tavern on the Green sleeps with the fishes (although I can't say that I'm too surprised.) And Pano's & Paul's is movin' on up to The Saint Regis.
The Bachelor was submitted to an unfortunate dose of Cambodian. Atlanta braced herself for a "Snowpocalypse." And Macon got bupkiss. However, there is one matter that's had EVERYONE "a-flurry" . . . The Late Night Bowl: Team Conan v. Team Leno. I've been watching that particular match from a barstool. Forever a "Team Chelsea" die hard, I don't understand who even has time to tune into either of them.
And as, with every "spoonful of sugar," there is a bit of medicine to go down. I was reminded - by Roger Ebert, and by the people of Haiti, that even (perhaps I should say especially) the creature comforts of food and shelter cannot be taken for granted.
But leave it to a little one. For, as Carl Sandburg once said, "a baby is God's opinion that life should go on." And on January tenth, he sent an early reminder. Kathryn "Simmons" Dupuy was born to a most excited Daddy, a Mother who was more than ready to meet her, and one very honored Aunt. I'm not one hundred percent sure what this world will do with another "Kathryn Simmons," but the very idea of both a Strickland and Dupuy version makes me grin from ear to ear. Simmons Dupuy's Great Grandmother once called me the Sarah Bernhardt of Macon - one of my most cherished accolades.
And after deciding that my NEW theatrical role called for a Margarita Lunch, I picked up a copy of "Out of Order," hunkered down into a booth at El Sombrero, and stocked up on a frozen Margarita and a half order of Special Nachos. No guacamole/sour cream & japalenos on the side. At the bottom of page thirteen, a bit of Rita dribbled down my chin and I dropped my nacho.
Stage Note: Jane comes out of the bedroom wearing a flimsy nightie.
Jane = Me.
My heart skipped a beat, a bright lights Miss Kitty sort of beat. Or four. But I kept reading. And as the other character in the scene swooned over mine, I maybe even - just a teensy bit - began to get used to the idea of running around onstage in the right teddy.
And then right there, in the middle of page twenty two, I choked on a large chunk of ice and pushed the plate out of my reach entirely.
Stage Note: Jane comes into the bedroom. She is carrying a bag. And she is wearing a bra and pants.
I haven't seen a nacho since.
I decided that this was just the motivation that I needed to make a few health-conscious adjustments to my diet. I would just cut out sodas, and Mexican, and Italian. I would take a break from my True Love, the cheeseburger. I mean, it really wouldn't be that big of a deal. This was a good thing! Huh? Absolutely.
Clearly . . . the sentiments . . . of a woman . . . who doesn't understand . . . that in a British Comedy . . . you see . . . PANTS aren't "pants" at all. No M'am, PANTS . . .
The ARC New Year's Eve Ball was a SMASHING success! I felt ever so pampered when treated to a sneak peek at the new Loews Midtown Hotel (details very soon). Vince Vaughn tied the knot. Tavern on the Green sleeps with the fishes (although I can't say that I'm too surprised.) And Pano's & Paul's is movin' on up to The Saint Regis.
The Bachelor was submitted to an unfortunate dose of Cambodian. Atlanta braced herself for a "Snowpocalypse." And Macon got bupkiss. However, there is one matter that's had EVERYONE "a-flurry" . . . The Late Night Bowl: Team Conan v. Team Leno. I've been watching that particular match from a barstool. Forever a "Team Chelsea" die hard, I don't understand who even has time to tune into either of them.
And as, with every "spoonful of sugar," there is a bit of medicine to go down. I was reminded - by Roger Ebert, and by the people of Haiti, that even (perhaps I should say especially) the creature comforts of food and shelter cannot be taken for granted.
But leave it to a little one. For, as Carl Sandburg once said, "a baby is God's opinion that life should go on." And on January tenth, he sent an early reminder. Kathryn "Simmons" Dupuy was born to a most excited Daddy, a Mother who was more than ready to meet her, and one very honored Aunt. I'm not one hundred percent sure what this world will do with another "Kathryn Simmons," but the very idea of both a Strickland and Dupuy version makes me grin from ear to ear. Simmons Dupuy's Great Grandmother once called me the Sarah Bernhardt of Macon - one of my most cherished accolades.
And after deciding that my NEW theatrical role called for a Margarita Lunch, I picked up a copy of "Out of Order," hunkered down into a booth at El Sombrero, and stocked up on a frozen Margarita and a half order of Special Nachos. No guacamole/sour cream & japalenos on the side. At the bottom of page thirteen, a bit of Rita dribbled down my chin and I dropped my nacho.
Stage Note: Jane comes out of the bedroom wearing a flimsy nightie.
Jane = Me.
My heart skipped a beat, a bright lights Miss Kitty sort of beat. Or four. But I kept reading. And as the other character in the scene swooned over mine, I maybe even - just a teensy bit - began to get used to the idea of running around onstage in the right teddy.
And then right there, in the middle of page twenty two, I choked on a large chunk of ice and pushed the plate out of my reach entirely.
Stage Note: Jane comes into the bedroom. She is carrying a bag. And she is wearing a bra and pants.
I haven't seen a nacho since.
I decided that this was just the motivation that I needed to make a few health-conscious adjustments to my diet. I would just cut out sodas, and Mexican, and Italian. I would take a break from my True Love, the cheeseburger. I mean, it really wouldn't be that big of a deal. This was a good thing! Huh? Absolutely.
Clearly . . . the sentiments . . . of a woman . . . who doesn't understand . . . that in a British Comedy . . . you see . . . PANTS aren't "pants" at all. No M'am, PANTS . . .
Are PANTIES!
As I'm always telling Doctor Turvy, this definitely won't be easy. But I can promise you, that it will be interesting. So hang on! Tight. Here we go.
Doctor Turvy Suggests . . .
The Skinny Girl Margarita
(Ooh Girl It Is Sooo) Hot This Week . . .
Andy Borowitz & Lily Coyle
Thursday: NewTown Getdown at The Hay House
Saturday: Belle of the Ball at Theatre Macon, 11am - 5pm
Win a "FREE" formal dress: Purchase a dress and be entered to win a "FULL REFUND"
5 entries will be drawn.
Hundreds of NEW famous label gowns/dresses (mostly one of a kind) priced from $30-$125, including prom, wedding, bridesmaid, mother of the bride and recital dresses.
Sizes range from 2 to 28. Proceeds go to support Theatre Macon 2010 season!
Sunday: Brunch at Dolce Vita!
As I'm always telling Doctor Turvy, this definitely won't be easy. But I can promise you, that it will be interesting. So hang on! Tight. Here we go.
Doctor Turvy Suggests . . .
The Skinny Girl Margarita
(Ooh Girl It Is Sooo) Hot This Week . . .
Andy Borowitz & Lily Coyle
Thursday: NewTown Getdown at The Hay House
Saturday: Belle of the Ball at Theatre Macon, 11am - 5pm
Win a "FREE" formal dress: Purchase a dress and be entered to win a "FULL REFUND"
5 entries will be drawn.
Hundreds of NEW famous label gowns/dresses (mostly one of a kind) priced from $30-$125, including prom, wedding, bridesmaid, mother of the bride and recital dresses.
Sizes range from 2 to 28. Proceeds go to support Theatre Macon 2010 season!
Sunday: Brunch at Dolce Vita!
No comments:
Post a Comment