Blue, Black, Whatever

Apparently I cannot tell black from blue.

Yesterday I bought a pair of pants that I believed to be navy blue. When I modeled them for Ben he informed me that they were black. I stood next to our black dog to show him that the two colors were not the same.

He laughed very hard and told me I had a problem and that I might be colorblind. I went around the room naming colors to prove that I am not colorblind. I got them all right.

He retrieved several more black items to hold next to my blue pants to prove to me that I had this problem. I continued to maintain that they were all different. Finally I could not refute the truth when one last black item was held next to the pants.

Although the issue comes back into some debate because after I decided to return the pants and retrieved the tag from the trash, the color, in tin-iny print, was listed as 'New Black.' Which to me either means that navy blue is the new black or I do indeed have a problem.

My New Old Career

Last week I made an appearance as “Elizabeth Crane” in a film called “Bubblerama,” based on a short story I wrote called “Stealer.”

I was cast without an audition. They asked me if I thought I could play the part. I said I thought I might be able to bring something to the role. Layers.

This was not my acting debut, but I’m pretty sure it’s the first thing I’ve done that will ever be seen (unless you were watching As the World Turns back in 1986 and were inclined to use the pause button). I had lines. I sat in a trailer. I had makeup. (One more reason I love me some Ben: he said “They gave you a smoky eye.” I said “How do you even know what that means?” He said, “I’ve seen America’s Next Top Model.”)

I am very much planning my wardrobe for Sundance right now.

If you would like to come see the magic, you can!

Click it or ticket: BUBBLERAMA

Every Now and Again My Faith in Humanity is Restored

Wonder Dog by Tony Fitzpatrick

I believe in artists supporting artists and when I find that other artists share this belief, I am happy.

That's all I have to say except look closely at this collage and read the poem. I think it might be the loveliest thing I've read in a while.

Business Time

Messenger - The Play: See It

Hey Kids!
Okay, I should have posted a reminder about this a while back, but the theatrical adaptation of When The Messenger is Hot is up at Steppenwolf's Garage theater right now, and there are still four performances left and you should go see it. Call this number for tickets: 312-335-1650. It's only fifteen bucks - a bargain! And it's amazing. I can say this because all I did was show up. Okay, well I wrote the book. But they play was adapted by Laura Eason, who dreamed up something I couldn't have, and if it weren't for the genius vision of the director, Jessica Thebus, it would never have gotten to Laura or onto the stage, especially not in just exactly the captivating way that it is. I can't say enough about how great the cast is. I will save for another time what a surreal experience it is to see your work, and elements of your life, more or less, acted out in front of you, but in these capable hands, it's mostly relief that those parts of my life are over and that I am crazy lucky to have a theater like Steppenwolf include my work in any way.

Here is a crazy good review from the Tribune.

And here are some photos:

Behold the beaded sweatery goodness!


Look, mom comes back from the depot!


A sweet moment I won't spoil.

Different Places!*

Okay, please don’t ask me the obvious question – which would be along the lines of – Um, and, why did you watch this movie?

Even though I’ll answer anyway: Because Ben hadn’t seen it?

It can be argued that the humor value, intentional or -un, holds up, anyway. I would argue that the cost of renting this movie, especially on Netflix, is worth it for the swimming pool sex scene alone, between Elizabeth Berkeley and Kyle “I’m just trying to hang on for dear life here” McLachlan. If it doesn’t make you laugh uncontrollably, I’ll send you your 2.99.

*Showgirl Nomi Malone's angry answer to the seemingly innocuous question, "Where are you from?"

All Buffalo Meat All The Time

Just got back from a week at this lovely place, Ft. Robinson, Nebraska. Here is a picture of the lodge we stayed in:




I noticed, in the weeks leading up to our family vacation, that when people ask you where you're going on vacation and you say 'Nebraska', the response is generally a puzzled look. In fact, Ft. Robinson, former military compound and the site of the demise of Crazy Horse, is quite a beautiful place, with well-preserved historic buildings, gorgeous western-like scenery (buttes and what have you) lots of stuff to do like swimming, horseback riding, hiking, tennis, kayaking, even a little Corky St. Clair-style summer theater (note for the next Broadway Revue: I'm not sure the song "I'm Just A Girl Who Cain't Say No" has held up so well). So it was the perfect place for my entire family, from 10 to 80, to convene.

Here is a picture of me on a horse, followed by my two nephews:




Here is a picture of the main ingredient in most meals at Ft. Robinson, Nebraska:




If buffalo meat isn't your thing, you might want to consider bringing along some food because non-meat oriented meals are hard to come by. They did have a 'salad bar', but there was a lot of mayonnaise involved in most of the 'salads'. Also, if you anticipate even a remote need for femininine hygiene products (perhaps this is in keeping with the 1900-military theme where there would have been few women around?) or Diet Coke, plan ahead. This is a strictly Pepsi-lovin' town. If you want a wooden gun that shoots rubber bands, then you're in luck.

Here is a picture of a kid from the rodeo:




Note: This kid was not the smallest one in the rodeo by a longshot. There was a little girl who could not have been two, who participated in an event called 'ride the hide', in which you jump stomach first onto a cowhide that's tied to the back of a horse, and get dragged. This little girl jumped onto the hide like she'd done it a hundred times, but watching her bounce up and down while being dragged behind a horse was more than a little disturbing.

Here is the sort of picture I like to take:





Here is the sort of picture Ben likes to take:




Finally and sadly, I do not have a photo of what was perhaps the most spectacular moment of the trip, so you'll just have to picture it: Ben diving, nay, flying, head first, Jackass-style, into a large hedge to retrieve a Frisbee. But let me just say this: if I had videotape, I would for sure win the big money on AFV.