8/19/2011

The Fantastic Umbrella Factory

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So I grew up in a little ole town called Asheville in the little ole state of North Carolina. Nestled in the heart of the Appalachian mountains, Asheville is quite atypical of your average Southern town. It is littered with hippies, drum circles, and gays. Every single store downtown is local (except for a subway and an Urban Outfitters). Growing up there, however, I was always in the suburbs of Asheville which is just the opposite. It is all chain restaurants and Wal-Marts (we have five!!) and since my dad hates hippies and dreadlocks (he claims that the bugs will jump out of their hair and get in his food... pah! Asians...) we never ventured downtown where all the fun was. So I avoided developing an "Asheville personality." Since then, I have fled North Carolina and planted myself in New England and only recently am I beginning to feel this strange urge to embrace my hippie, Asheville roots. I'm being brought back to the days when I would sweat with the hippies in a barn doing the contra dance to fiddle music (no joke, every Thursday).

This summer I have purchased a pair of John Lennon glasses, I tie dyed a shirt for the first time, and I wear bandanas on a regular basis. I am literally seeking out hippie clothes! And on this hunt, I found the coolest place on the planet. It is called, "The Fantastic Umbrella Factory." It is a little Rhode Island hippie village with a cafe, several shops, green houses, the most awesome collection of vintage sunglasses, and goats and emus that you can pet and feed. Basically, Asheville in a bottle. Strangely, I felt very at home and very much at ease in that environment. Perhaps this is me trying to develop a unique personality in my journey into adulthood. But, I think it is more the freeness and openness that comes with the hippie lifestyle. I'm not REALLY becoming a hippie. No dreadlocks for me. And I like Starbucks. But, I also like incense. And I like tie dye. My family will be so disappointed. But to them I say, shut up.



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8/01/2011

Mondays = Fridays

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July Thirty First, Two Thousand Eleven

7:30pm - "Hairspray" performance is done and I pick up a basket of disgustingly sweaty button up shirts and take them to the cottage to be laundered.

9:00pm - I sing a song about skanky skanky whores at a cabaret in front of a group of little old ladies from Matunuck, RI while Sabrina Blaze, the town drag queen is in the next room changing into her rainbow crinolines.

10:00pm - Check into the Westin Providence with nine of my closest Hairspray friends. The Asian lady at the front desk tells me that she "rikes to drrink at jee jah" an Irish pub that we later found out was actually called, "Ri ra" PAH! Asians...

11:30pm Arrive at "Li la" and see an Asian woman singing "Last Dance" on the patio. The Asians... it all makes sense now. We count down to some dude's birthday at midnight and then do jetes out the door.

12:15am We spot a gay bar that is actually open and playing the greatest mix of gay tunes and showing episodes of "Will and Grace" on the TV above the bar. We stay there until they close having so much fun doing walk-offs, dropping randomly into splits, dancing on the bar, voguing and doing unnecessary battements. When we leave, people at the bar tell us that they have never seen the bar that alive on a Sunday night.

2:00??? am I walk to some random hotel in Providence not wearing shoes to go to a Cirque de Soleil party. I meet an Australian aerialist who offers me a space cake. Tony goes missing. Time to go.

4:00???ish am My friend Nicole declares that she is hungry and refuses to believe that everything is closed saying, "IF PRESIDENT OBAMA WAS HERE AND HUNGRY RIGHT NOW HE WOULD BE ABLE TO GET FOOD!!" Sure enough, we find an IHOP and it fulfills all of our fantasies (well, most).

5:00am The bed at the Westin actually hugs me as the real air conditioning caresses my skin. I sleep better than I have in 2 months.

With one day off a week, folks, you gotta just live it up. And Providence...you alright.

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7/31/2011

Unicows and Magical Ponies

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So if you follow, you'll notice that the past month had few comfy corners. I've been doing wardrobe for this little show called "Hairspray" and lemme tell ya folks... wardrobe. is. no. joke. So much harder than acting. For this show, we have hundreds of costumes that are washed, ironed and steamed every day, forty two wigs that take an hour a piece to comb out (and are combed out daily), and probably about a hundred or so costume changes that happen during the show. They don't mess around! So I haven't had time to blog, but while I have been busy ironing, I've also been busy choreographing this kids show for the theatre's kids camp. And can I say ya'll, it just made every day a little more bearable. It reaffirmed my desire to have children and there are several children that I may or may not have kidnapped.


One of these children, Matt, was just the cutest little boy and he was such a little actor. After the show was done he drew this poster for the show (the show was "Twinderella" the story of Cinderella's twin brother, Bob). As he was drawing this poster I walk up to him and say, "What are you drawing?" He says, "A unicow, duh." I laughed and said, "What's a unicow?" Well, apparently, it's a unicorn, but a cow. And few people know this, but it was actually a unicow that jumped over the moon. So naturally we ended up in a really deep conversation about unicows, how rare they are, and what powers they possess when he mentioned that there were actually magical ponies and dragons at his birth (can we say... future homosexual?!) To which I cleverly responded, "Oh, wow, there were only magical ponies at mine." And THEN, we got into another in-depth conversation about all the different types of magical ponies (the pink ones with the purple stripes are the most powerful) when this little girl tried to join in by saying, "I like the neon ones." We both stopped and looked at her and we both said AT THE SAME TIME, "Those don't exist."

So essential I turned into a nine year old bully for like two weeks while I taught them jazz squares and chasses. It confirmed several things for me, though: kids have the most amazing imaginations, I definitely want to have children, and I definitely do NOT want to do theatre with children again if I can avoid it (I just get so frustrated when they can't remember to walk onto the stage). So, if you have any questions about unicows or magical ponies, I'm your man.

Ya'll have a nice day.


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7/13/2011

Kids These Days

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I distinctly remember moments from my childhood when my older sister would punch me in the shoulder because I would copy everything she did or I'd always order the same thing she ordered at restaurants. She would get so upset with me and I never really understood why. Or those moments when adults would say things to me like, "When I was your age, we didn't even have a TV" or "These are the greatest years of your life so enjoy them." And still, I never really understood. This past weekend, however, my little sister (she's ten and super sassy) came to visit and suddenly I understood.


I found myself saying things to her like, "I didn't have a cell phone when I was your age" or "When I got bored I'd play outside." Not only did it make me feel like I was actually becoming an adult (a terrifying revelation all in itself), but I also started to understand why I pissed my older sister off so much. I brought my little sister to the annual Splash Bash at our theatre. Basically they bring in a huge, inflatable water slide and we have the best time. Well, she was going down the slide over and over again and every time she learned a new "trick" she would scream, "Nathan! Nathan! Come here! Watch me!" and if I wasn't watching she'd come right over and call me out saying, "You aren't really watching." I was annoyed but at the same time I understood her frustration. This is what I was doing to my older sister when I was a kid!

Kids are changing, for sure. They live in a different world. They are less respectful, they get cell phones at an early age, and they are sassier but at heart, kids are still kids. They like to play and they like to have friends to play with. And they want you to watch. Next week I will be teaching the kids camp here at Theatre by the Sea, so I'm sure there will be more comfy kids stories. Stay tuned, ya'll.

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7/09/2011

What Events in My Life Led to This Moment?

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I was dancing on stage with a drag queen name Sabrina Blaze tonight, singing "Proud Mary" and I had one of those self-reflective revelations where you suddenly look at yourself from the third person, analyze what you're doing and think, "What events in my life led me to this moment?" It's such an odd feeling! I often think about myself in the context of the people around me and it makes me suddenly very self aware. It happens a lot when I look at myself in the mirror as I'm drunk at a party. I gaze at my reflection for an extended amount of time, fix my hair and say, "What are you doing with your life?!" And that's it really. I move on.

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7/05/2011

Top Bunk Strugs

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So, as many of you may or may not know, I am currently interning at a summer stock theatre called Theatre by the Sea (TBTS). Before I launch into a rant-complain-fest, let it be known that I am having a BLAST and I am so so so grateful to be here doing what I'm doing. That said, the TBTS intern is a lovely position with duties and hours of work nothing short of slave labor (today I latch-hooked 3000 pieces of yarn into a shag rug for Hairspray. It took 8 hours). But that, in my opinion isn't the worst of it. The worst of it is the living situation.


Please take into account that I have grown very much accustomed to my beautiful, 2 bedroom, Boston apartment with my one BEAUTIFUL room mate. But, I have traded all of that in to share a house with 29 other lovely theatre professionals, and to share a bedroom with 4 other boys. Yes, the kitchen is always messy, the counters are always wet, the bathroom smells consistently of old pee and mildewed towels, but all of that I can handle. What's really getting to me is sleeping on a top bunk. In college, I was supposed to be on a top bunk, but I quickly de-bunked the bed and made it work differently for me. I can put up with a lot, but for some reason, not this. Here are some reasons why:

1) I feel claustrophobic being so close to the ceiling. It's like living in a little box (a coffin?).
2) I am not in proximity to an outlet to plug in my computer and charge my phone. so I have to drape my laptop chord and then charge my phone through my computer.
3) I don't have a shelf or side table to put things on, so I sleep with my laptop. I can't even put things on the floor because the floor is just so far away.
4) Making the bed is a pain in the ass. I've given up, I just let the sheets be a mess now.
5) Getting in and out of bed is a chore and causes great stress when I have to pee in the middle of the night (which is every night).
6) There is no good place to put a fan, so I sweat (I hate sleeping when I'm sweaty. Unless I'm sweaty for other reasons ;)) [Side note: why is putting emoticons inside of parenthetical statements such a struggle!?]
7) I can't really claim the under the bed space, because I'm on top of another bed. And every time my bottom bunk mate moves the slightest bit it shakes my whole bed.

In general, I feel like a trapped baby. Perhaps this is good for me. Maybe this is the universe testing my patience and making me more adaptable and flexible in tough situations. Who knows? All I know is that this is the way it's gonna be, so I'm gonna have to make the best of it.

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7/02/2011

Bink! Turning on the Charm

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Alrighty, so we've reached July. It's that magical moment that signifies half a year gone. We all have found ourselves smack dab in between New Year's Day and New Year's Eve. To celebrate, I'd like to go on a miniature rant about charm. Related vocabulary? Small talk, schmoozing, winning over, fake laughter, and "bink." Bink is a term my friend Kevin uses whenever he turns on the charm. He says "bink" in a high pitched voice and puts the back of his hand on his cheek and smiles the most charming smile I've ever seen. He could get away with murder with bink. So damn charming and so damn useful.


I've been thinking about "bink" a lot lately because I've found myself at a couple opening night parties for shows. And, if you've never been to an opening night party at a theatre, it is quite an experience. You can gaze around the room and find old gay men holding glasses of red wine erupting into fake laughter at timed intervals. Yeah, it's a bit much, and it makes me feel kind of cheap, but I totally play into it. I laugh at all the bad jokes, I tell stupid stories, say weird cliche things like "Wow, who let this guy into the theatre?" or "They let people like you come to these events?" It's enough to make someone throw up but it is also a skill that I think more people should stop complaining about and learn to embrace.

I hate it when people refuse to put up their "bink" every now and then. I've known a lot of people who are like, "I refuse to be anything but myself and feel exactly what I'm feeling at the moment." This drives me crazy. Just pretend to be charming for a moment so my friends will like you. Just be nice to the waiter even if you aren't in a good mood, because the have to get through their night with some amount of sanity. Once you get to know people on a deeper level then you can feel free to let go of the "bink" and be real. But it is like an unspoken rule of society. It's a silly game, really, and I realize that, but it is also so vital to making friends (and keeping them). Also (and this is especially true in theatre), it can get you a job. So I've learned to embrace it and, at times, enjoy it. It's like a game. Who can I "out-bink"? So I will go to the party, I will turn on my "bink" and I will make friends, leaving all those "real" people to sulk and complain in the corner.

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