appropriate and ready

I'm considering the Winter Holiday Banquet basket for my aunt and grandmother, who don't enjoy much, are allergic to most, disapprove of the rest, and already own all else. 

Even before I was old enough to give presents I knew that they were the worst kind of people to try to buy presents for.

"Overview: Scrumptious, appropriate and ready to give."

... appropriate and ready to give.

Amazingly poorly done, but nonetheless SOLD, Terrible Copywriter.


two shows

Shows I do with my company, Barrel of Monkeys, are created VERY quickly.  School shows adapted, staged, learned, prepared in 6 rehearsals.  For the public performances we have even less time: 3 hours on Sunday morning, then boom, the next night it's on its feet in front of an audience.

This is liberating and terrifying. 
The only way to succeed is just to succumb to the panic and live in it. 

I did two of those shows today.

Today was a pretty souped up day.  
Today had a lot of adrenaline. 
Today had some complete failures in front of audiences - props fell apart, lines got lost, cues didn't come so they had to be guessed and timing was funky.  Laugh lines got no laughs.

Today also had some complete awesome moments of joy and an extended bit about toe jam to an immensely receptive audience of kids who were so repulsed that they squealed with delight.
Toe jam. Gross.  I yelled at them, "oh, you think it's gross now, but just wait till you get older, you're gonna love it."
Today was big. Tomorrow will be good.

I blogged about the show on the Barrel of MOnkeys site: you can read my posts here and here, if you wanna.


sequel: success...y?

Someone else has to determine where this falls on the success-fail spectrum.

Well, you're shapely to be sure, but not necessarily voluptuos. Closer to svelte, I'd say. However, you are attractive in a way that might work for the the Movie Star. And I like you resume and so on.
I'll be back in touch soon.


well, this is ... success...y?

I got an email from Cirque du Soleil today asking me, yes me, specifically me, if I would be interested in auditioning.  Because then they would decide if THEY would be interested in my auditioning.  Currently they're only interested in whether or not I'm interested.
I tried this tactic with dating very early on; it never went well.

So I said oh sure, and sent the requested headshot and resume.

Hi and thanks for the pic and resume. Both are nice. Given the profiles we're seeking, culd also please send me a pic or two which is full body> DFoesn't have to be a good picture, just one that gives a better sense of your full body shape...
Things learned today:
1. I will forgive Cirque casting people any and all typos.
2. Cirque du Soleil wants to see my body. 

let me restate that.

to see

Things assumed today:
1. A photo is probably all that Cirque du Soleil will want to see of my body. 


happy is always successful

from my very beloved Hilary, who sends me poems in the mail:



In case you have failed to notice, I straight-up broke my blog when I got all cheeky about html, tried to upload a new template, and now have zeheeero interest in fixing it.

Boo, Lacy.

On the upside, I found a VERY exciting recipe to make when friends come over to play games tonight!
yield: Serves 8
This Franco-American combination of bourbon and bubbles gives you another reason to be thankful. It doubles easily to accommodate the number of guests around your holiday table.
Wh...  "bourbon and bubbles"?  
My apprehension is trumped by my eagerness to combine two favorite drinkable things!

Internet friend invited to my party: Epicurious
Internet loser who has to stay in the office: Blogger! 


success quandary

Some NFL teams have terrible quarterbacks.

But they're quarterbacks. In the NFL.

But they're terrible.


I even finally figured out how to trick Blogger and make my comments field a Biggie reference!
I win.
I quit.


I did something I have never done before.
Something I wanted to do my whole life.

I made good theater.

Both my grandmothers, independently of each other, told me it was about time I wrote something. 

I am full of love and gratitude for and to Laura for directing, Alex for getting caught in the middle and making all the music, Heather for getting shit on and puppeting, and Brandon for making Grendel.

Seriously. Check out Grendel.

I know I won't always feel this way,
so I just want to feel it as much as I can right now.

I feel successful.





Setting: Rogers Park

Time: 9:45am.

Middle aged man (with heavy Eastern European accent)

(characters enter, cross paths, then exit opposite.)

Middle aged man:  Ohhh,  BIG LADY!

Lacy: ...  wha.

Middle aged man:  You so NICE.

Lacy: oh, no.

Middle aged man: YES!!!!




I had a "photography test" with a fancy photographer yesterday.  I got it by a total fluke. Everyone was surprised. Especially me. Surprised that I got it, and really surprised that I wanted it.

Photography tests are so called because they are designed to test how well you do in front of a camera. Comfort, poise, angles, all that stuff.

I do not do so well on these tests.

I am no model.
And to add to my non-modelness, I am PAINFULLY aware of just HOW MUCH I am not a model, so I seem to wordlessly, desperately apologize for my own face and body in every single shot.
Somehow, not so lovely to look at, that horrid self consciousness.  (for additional references, see: your middle school yearbook) (any middle school yearbook)

But sometimes they say they don't want models, they want actors, so in I go. Once in a blue moon.

And this fancy photographer (while I was waiting to go in, he checked with his assistant:  "Alfonso at 4? Who's Alfonso...??? Oh wait, yeah, that's P.Diddy's guy.") wanted actors. He wanted to do some experiments of slight facial movement.  (In apparently the harshest lighting ever.)

But all his photos look this way, and there's something about him obviously thinking my bad skin and lopsided hair and wrinkles and dried out lipstick are worth photographing that makes me love the result.


I look old, I look disheveled, I look sloppy, I look all the things that drive me crazy about how I look.

But I like it. I look like me.




Hi friends.
I have a small struggle.
It's not so big.

It's sort of private.
And it's probably pretty petty.

I did my first gig with this theater company 8 years ago.  I've stuck around and always been part of their hijinx, because I love what they do.  They're my second favorite, after my actual theater company.  They have kept me around, and had me do stuff, or not, or then, well, I don't know. We do gigs here in town, then in other places like California and Arizona and Michigan (and again, we're talking 8 years of working together) and I think they like me, but then, they went and got this gig:

_____ Theater part of White House Halloween 

and no Lacy.
and I am JEEAAALLOUS out the wazzoo.

Jealousy doesn't do you any good, okay?
I should just be happy for those who went.
I am 60% happy, 40% bitterly jealous.
I am struggling to change those percentiles. Like, to 98% happy for my friends
cousins, 2% wistfully jealous, 0% bitterly jealous.

I am really struggling not to take it personally.

dammit, dammit, dammit, this fucking job, I'll tell you.

it's the day of the first preview

My home looks like Jo-Ann Fabrics just walked in, sat down, and threw up a Blick-Art-Store-and-Salvation-Army omelet.