Ring out this year with insane celebrities!

My dear readers, before the end of 2012 I really must bring to your attention this set of photos from early in December. To quote Reader Katya (who was kind enough to show me these), "what on God's green earth is wrong with Demi Moore?"

I present to you: Demi Moore Has Lost Her Damn Mind.

Figure 1: our subject is surprised by the photographer. Luckily she is wearing a romper so short the world is her gynecologist.

Figure 2: In a room full of laughing people our subject dances while Lenny Kravitz looks on stoically.

Figure 3: Our subject continues to dance while Lenny Kravitz wishes he was anywhere but on this couch.

Figure 4: Our subject is STILL wearing that red string and Lenny Kravitz is STILL trying to figure out how he ended up in this mess.

Figure 5: Our subject makes faces for the camera while Lenny Kravitz wears the international expression for "Dear God, please make it stop."

To Lenny Kravitz, I have only this to say: you cannot get all holier-than-thou when you wear a blanket as a scarf.

Happy New Year, WTS Nation!

Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

My dear readers, it is just one week away from Theatre Nerdgasm Holy Day. Or, in colloquial parlance: opening of Les Miserables in movie theaters everywhere. And! They have released "One Day More" for our salivating pleasures!

Go ahead and watch that. I'll be right here when you're done. In the meantime, though, I am going to look at this awesome photo of Hill for a while.

Are you done? Wasn't it awesome!? Didn't you make kind of the same face as seen above when Russell Crowe couldn't finish any of his phrases? Aren't you the most excited about Hugh Jackman!?

Let's talk for real for a moment, though. Something occurred to me while I was watching this latest clip. It's only slightly complicated but I'm super tired so it's going to be tough for me to put into a coherent thought. I think Les Miserables made me want to go into theatre. This is only vaguely embarrassing, and I will therefore just accept that fact. What the hell was I going to see on stage when I was a tween? The Iceman Cometh? That has no singing, no dancing, no spectacle. No, it was big lavish 80s musicals for me.

I was as deeply effected by Les Miz as a preteen/teenage can be. The tragedy of the story, the sweeping beauty of the music, the dark comedy... but most of all the way it made me feel. I didn't know what it was I was feeling when I first saw it. I knew it was so sad that it made me cry buckets, I knew there were funny parts that made me laugh and laugh even if I didn't get the sex jokes exactly, I knew that there were very beautiful things to see and hear. But it was something beyond that, just beyond the scope of my comprehension. I didn't know what it was but I was feeling something intensely satisfying and all I could think of was how much I wanted to make other people feel that way.

When I got to that part of a privileged life where it's time to decide what to study in college, I went back and forth between writing and theatre. I eventually decided on theatre because I could not imagine getting tired of it, I couldn't imagine it being hard in a bad way.


--SIDEBAR NOTE TO MY 17 YEAR OLD SELF --
ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. you are ADORABLE. Just wait until you decide to co-found a theatre company.
--END SIDEBAR NOTE--


The point is, I chose to study that (and was lucky enough and supported enough to follow through) because it was fun and it was easy. Now it's later. I let a teenager decide what degree I would obtain to prepare myself for the world, I am kind of okay with that, but I will honestly say that sometimes I have doubts. Lately, I've been really wrestling with these doubts and wondering if what "we" do matters at all.

But you know what? Then I watched this clip. And I thought about the way I felt the first time I saw Les Miz. And I thought about the way I feel now when I watch it. And I think that maybe I just need to invest a little more energy into searching for that great, sweeping, overwhelming, intoxicating feeling and channeling it to other people.


BONUS FACT THAT I JUST DISCOVERED:
In singing a bit of the score a capella with my dear best friend last night, I was suddenly struck that HOLY SHIT I THINK LES MISERABLES FORMED MY NOTION OF HOW ONE GETS LAID. Not being a particularly suave teenager, I was pretty sure I would never be able to kiss anyone (let alone get beyond kissing) unless I learned some sort of magical spell. And then I saw Les Miz and in the song "Drink With Me" there are these lines:

Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads
Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

And I thought to myself, "Cool. I don't have to be beautiful I just have to be funny. I can do that." You guys! I was like 11! Maybe not even that old!

BONUS STORY THAT GOES WITH BONUS FACT:
Eventually, I did date some boys in high school. One of the boys was a truly kind boy and we really didn't have a lot in common (he loved Led Zeppelin, let's just put that out there) and in the end he was going to college and I was afraid to break up with him because everyone liked him and I didn't want to be the bad guy. Finally, he lost the game of chicken and came over to my house to break up with me. Being a super sweet dude, he helped me wash my car and asked me to tell him the story of Les Miserables.  At the conclusion of some epic storytelling, he broke up with me. I faked some tears, sighed relief, and didn't see him again for almost a decade. To summarize: not only did Les Miz help me figure out how to get laid, it also got me out of a relationship that had run out of time.

THANKS, LES MIZ!

Mama Jack

Hey guys, let's talk about my mom for a minute, okay? My mom's birthday was last week and in the craziness of the past few days, I haven't had even a minute to post here about just how awesome she is. So let's fix that, shall we? Here are a few reasons my mom is awesome:

1. She is straight up adorable.

seen here as a sexy cat among sexy cats

2. When I'm stressed out about something (usually work-related), it keeps her up at night. Last week, I accidentally rolled down the window of my sister's car and sent her car reindeer antler flying out into the night. Mom actually dreamt where it had landed and I was able to pick up the pieces the next morning.

3. She likes to read romance novels but only likes romance novels with a good story and believable characters. Case in point, she took the spelling of my first name from The Thorn Birds.

4. She loves my friends and my friends love her. Everyone calls her Mama Jack. More sexy cats as proof...

5. My mom has the greatest cackle laugh in the world. But even better than that is when she laughs so hard that no sound comes out.

6. She's way stronger than anyone would think or even than perhaps she knows. This lady has been through a lot but keeps chugging along with a smile on her face. It's kind of remarkable.

7. Mom is certainly not afraid to speak her mind - which can either great or terrifying. While doing an on-camera interview for my sex-ed burlesque show (because she's so awesome that she'll let me bully her into being part of even that), Mom said that she feels that sex is private and shouldn't be talked about. To which I was like 

and she was like

8. Because she always listens, she always has my back, she always takes my side (even when she doesn't agree), and she always loves me even though I sometimes disappoint her. And you know? She does the same for my sister. And my dad. And our best friends. 

9. Mama Jack taught me how to be generous through her own unbridled generosity. She also taught me how to laugh at myself. 

Note that Mom is wearing three necklaces and a funnel on her head.

10. Most of all, though, my mom is awesome because she has no idea how awesome she is. Someday maybe we'll convince her.

Christmastime Fears

First of all, Happy Hanukkah! If you are celebrating the Festival of Lights, I hope it has been great so far and that the last few days will also be full of family, laughter, and happiness!

And now I'm going to talk about Christmas traditions revolving around Santa. Sorry about that.

When I was a kid, I believed in Santa for a long time. I really wanted to - it seemed like if I stopped believing I would stop getting awesome gifts and everything would be boring. That didn't turn out to be true, of course, because Christmas is pretty awesome and the definition of "awesome gifts" shifts over the years. (For example, I'm looking forward to getting a new pair of slippers this year. Also, I am 80.) Lots of families have lots of different Santa-adjacent traditions, but one thing is constant: the threat of Santa is enough to bring about fairly good behavior for most of a month. You know...

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He knows if you've been bad or good

So be good for goodness sake!

When I was a kid, the thought of Santa seeing me sleep freaked me the fuck out. In fact, the fact that Santa was presumably ALWAYS WATCHING WHAT I DID really made me nervous. Christmas Eve was a majorly stressful night for young Meg for a couple of reasons: a) anticipation of awesome presents, and b) holy crap, is Santa going to come into my room while I'm asleep? I used to wake up in the middle of the night convinced I could see Santa looking into my window.

go away, creeper

Even the IDEA of hearing reindeer on the roof was enough to send me into a child-sized panic attack. I spent many of my childhood nights standing at my bedroom window, terrified, absolutely sure I could hear someone breaking into our house. So the idea of Santa coming into the house, eating our cookies, and walking around was not exactly exciting. Nice of him to leave a Nintendo, though.

A couple of years ago I started noticing a new trend - the Elf on the Shelf. Apparently this is Santa's minion, sent to spy on kids and report back to the Big Guy on said kids' behavior. Some of my parent friends have embraced the Elf - giving it a name, putting it in a new position each morning as a game for the kids to find it, talking about it. Personally, I think this would freak me out even more than Santa looking in my window. Have you seen this thing?

Terrifying. 

Its limbs are flat, it is missing the left half of its eyelashes on both eyes and the blush is over the top. It's small, it hides in your house, and it spies on you. I don't think I could have handled this as a kid. Honestly, I'm not sure I can handle it now. You should see my face when I spot an Elf on the Shelf in a friend's house. 

or something like that

So, to recap: I don't like it when fictional characters watch me sleeping and keep a record of my daily activities. Maybe this is why I don't enjoy Twilight?

The Tile Project: Introduction and First Tiles

My place of employment is next door to WHYY which has lovely slate tiles in front of their building engraved with the names of their donors. I have been walking past those tiles multiple times a day for eight years now, making up stories about the people who bought them. I've been at a bit of a loss for what to share with you recently, so I thought I'd give you some of these stories. With a small catch!

There is one person that I actually know in real life whose name graces a tile. At the end of our tile series we'll have a contest to see who can pick out the real person! It's like Two Truths and a Lie except it's One Truth and a Whole Bunch of Lies. There will be a prize for the tile series truth guesser!

THE BARRS: MAX JACK ELLEN SUE KELLY & DIANNA

Jack and Ellen Sue Barr met in high school when they were both in the school marching band. They were high school sweethearts and dated all through their college years. On the day after college graduation, Jack proposed to Ellen Sue against her parents' wishes and they were married in a traditional ceremony the following year. One of the things that always sort of delighted Jack was the double L in Ellen Sue's name. At the age of 16 he decided that if he and Ellen Sue ever had kids, he wanted them to have double letters in their names. Dianna is not pleased about this because she was never able to find pencils or bicycle license plates with her name on them. Kelly just wishes her name wasn't "soooo 80s" as she always complains. On the day the wording for the tiles was due to WHYY Ellen Sue got into a fight with Kelly and Dianna, culminating in her daughters saying they had a hard time taking dating advice from someone who had only ever dated one person. Ellen Sue was so stung by this she decided to put the dog's name first. Jack still doesn't understand how Max got top billing.


JEANNIE CRAIG, CASSIN CRAIG

Jeannie and Cassin Craig are identical twins, both with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Jeannie Craig hates her name because people always called her Jennie Craig and made jokes about her weight even though she is as slight as a bird. Cassin Craig hates her name because people always assume she's saying Cassie and, as she has said in exasperated tones to her friends a million times, "Who the hell names their kid Cassin!?" Her friends think it's weird too, but always just assumed it was a family name. Jeannie loves being a twin. Cassin recently buzzed off her long brown hair just so that people would stop calling her Jeannie by accident. Jeannie cried for 20 minutes when she found out about Cassin's hair. Cassin didn't even donate it.

Turkey Lurkey Time!

Happy Thanksgiving, my dear readers! This year I am thankful for the following:

* my supportive, fun, bizarre family

* my creative, beautiful, amazing friends

* my lovely, crazy roommate and our awesome house

* the past year of life-changing theatrical work

* the past year of steady dayjob work

* the fact the my dayjob thinks it's a good thing that I do theatre crap all the time

* new friends made

* acquaintances who became dear friends

* old friendships that have deepened all the more

* reconnecting with people I thought I had lost forever

* reconnecting with my VHS tapes

* this:


* and this:

* aaaaaaand this (behold the wonder of my friend's sense of humor):

* all of you  - for reals!


Enjoy your turkey or tofurkey or traditional Thanksgiving grilled cheese. And remember that no matter what, you WILL run into someone you haven't seen in 10 years this weekend so please be sure to wear a necklace.

Maybe this will make sense to you

Yesterday the Philadelphia theatre community lost one of our bright rising stars. He was very funny, very talented, very sweet, and touched the lives of very many people. Unfortunately for me, I didn't really know him - we would say hi to each other and, man, did I enjoy seeing him perform but we weren't friends.

Here's where grief gets sticky.

As the vaguebooking started yesterday morning, it was clear that our community had lost someone. It was hideously familiar to a morning two years when the vaguebooking ended with the news that our dear Mel was gone. Gchat and texting ensued, trying to put it together. How are the people who are the first to post their grief connected? Who worked with whom? Who are their close friends? And as the facts are still murky and it's unclear what has happened and to whom, the grief starts. Grief pulls a chair over next to yours and seems to have no plans for the day other than sitting there with you. You start to guess at who might be gone and start to mourn them. And then the pieces come together, the horrible news is disseminated, and sometimes it's the worst news in the world. Sometimes it is simply just terrible news. So Grief decides to hold your hand for a bit.


Here's where grief gets confusing.

The thing that has always sort of struck me about grief and mourning is how easy it is to get swirled around with other emotions - especially guilt. Guilt is the annoying little brother always tagging along saying "Me too! Take me too!" I've had experiences in mourning when I felt relieved...and then guilty. I've had experiences in mourning when I felt jealous...and then guilty. Right now I just sort of feel guilty for mourning at all - because I don't have stories to tell, insights to share, remembrances other than, "I loved him in that show." I tell my friends that everyone is entitled to their own grief, but I'm not sure I believe that for myself right now. It's confusing.


Here's where grief gets useful.

There is a short window of time around a grieving process when you realize how wonderful everyone you know is, you realize how good your life is, you realize how much you have. That is a tiny little moment, perhaps the most ephemeral moment of all. Soon it will be back to taking people for granted and nursing deep wounds that are in reality just papercuts. This is the Emily Webb moment and you've got to wrap your arms around this feeling of clarity and appreciation and hold on with all you have. It will be gone, no matter how hard you try not to let it go.

Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? - every, every minute? I should have listened to you. That's all human beings are! Just blind people.

The truly graceful people of the world are able to communicate their love and appreciation without hesitation at any moment they so experience that love and appreciation. May we all be filled with grace.

Egos Like Hairdos

I know this statement will not shock you, my dear readers, but sometimes I get a little full of myself. Sometimes I believe my own press. Sometimes I get a little cocky. And during those times I realize that I have to shut it down as quickly as possible lest I become permanently annoying. And so I present to you...

Proven Ways to Get Your Ego in Check

* Hang out with a baby. Seriously. Babies don't give a shit if you directed a play or wrote a novel or won a Nobel Prize. Babies care if you are paying attention to them, making sounds they like, feeding them, and keeping them dry. If you fail at any of these tasks, babies will scream in your face until you feel like the stupidest and most useless person alive. BOOM! Ego in check! Note: this is the cutest and most satisfactory way to get your ego in check.

* Manual labor. I was feeling pretty impressed with myself when I woke up yesterday. When I went to bed last night, I was feeling like a normal person with a lot still to learn in this world. How did that happen? A) I held a baby for a while who was definitely not impressed by me. B) I helped my dear sweet darling friend Mix pull up all of the adhesive linoleum tile in her back bedroom. It was difficult, we were both sweating and cursing and sore, and we ended the task absolutely covered in flooring glue. BOOM! Ego in check!

* Try to do something new. Hey, you're feeling like the queen of the world! You're awesome at everything you do! Well then the time is ripe, my friend, to attempt to crochet for the first time or to learn to play guitar - oh! but without giving up in the first half hour. If you're anything like me, you will immediately feel dumb. BOOM! Ego in check!

Do you have any other tips for deflating one's head? Let's hear them in the comments!

Better living through manicures

You guys read The Hairpin, right? It's only like the best website of all time and I wish I was writing for them. I am deeply glad for Jane Marie and her articles on clothes and makeup and hair and how to be a girl, but today's article on doing your own nails just sort of stabbed me in the heart... in a good way.

Can you suggest a reasonably priced nail dryer? Like the ones in the salon with the infrared lights that assuredly are giving me cancer? Not the fan-only ones, I've no patience to sit that long.

No. First, UV rays scare me. They're probably safe, but I'm not going to look it up. And second, just sit still for 10 minutes!!! I think it will help you in so many ways, not just in your nails. Just relax and take a valuable break. This whole deal, the manicure, will take less than an hour, start-to-finish, once a week. You should actually be chilling out a ton more than that. Prioritize time to zone out on something like this, m'lady, or you will get sick and DIE. You think I'm joking!

I'm not trying to be super cheesy  but sometimes life jabs you with little reminders from the least expected places. I expected to read this article for tips on how to make my at-home manicures take less time (because I sooooooooo hate waiting for my nails to dry). I didn't expect to be reminded of one of the big lessons my dear, amazing life coach Dawn tried to drill into my head: Take at least two minutes every day for quiet and stillness.

I'm just going to keep using this image as much as possible.

Straight up, I forgot all about the quiet and stillness until I read this article on doing your nails. Which ... well, we'll just leave that statement as is without comment. And then when I started thinking about the quiet and stillness lesson, I was reminded of something my dear, amazing therapist Stephanie tried to teach me (failed, but tried anyway) about processing grief: Take some time to just lie on your bed and just let sounds come out, whether they be angry screams or just the sound of your breath reminding you that you are alive.

The truth is it's easier to hide, to escape. When the Busy sets in and the Stress parks on my heart and the Worry attaches itself to my brow, I prefer to just push through and ignore. I don't know, I guess I figure the Stress and the Worry will get bored if I don't play with them and move on to something else. But... REAL TALK... but when the Busy has set in and the Stress is parked in my chest and the Worry digging deeper lines into my forehead it's hard to fight back when Hurt decides it's time to latch onto my shoulders. Walking around with all of these things clinging to me really tends to dim my shine and I hate not being fabulous.

Instead of just letting those things hang out and plowing through the day ignoring them, maybe it's time for some quiet stillness. Maybe it's time to listen to myself breathe. Maybe it's time to paint my nails.

Review of the movies I own on VHS

My roommate and I recently got a new DVD player that can also play VHS tapes. I am THRILLED because I have a ton of movies on tape and I haven't seen them in years. We've been making our way through the collection so I'd like to offer you these reviews of movies I loved in my early 20s from my now early 30s perspective.

As Good As It Gets- still excellent. I understand much more clearly now why Helen Hunt's character would ever go for Jack Nicholson's character. Greg Kinnear continues to be a vastly underrated actor.

Sex and the City, Season 3 - still frustrating to watch [SPOILER ALERT] Carrie screw up her relationship with Aidan. Team Aidan Forever. Many, many good one liners I had forgotten about. I was dismayed, however, to see just how homophobic a couple of the episodes were. I had to wonder, was the show always this gay-unfriendly?

Can't Hardly Wait - does not hold up well AT ALL. Really, just skip it.

10 Things I Hate About You - continues to be charming and addictive. Heath Ledger and Joseph Gordon Levitt are both just so charming it's impossible not to fall in love with them. Also, I forgot this movie features the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy.

Now I wish I owned Center Stage.

Dazed and Confused - seems waaaaaaaaayyyyyy creepier than it used to, especially with the May-December romance of an incoming freshman and a rising senior. Ewwww. But it's still totally fun and the kid that plays Mitch Kramer still pinches his nose too much when he is acting. Good thing he went on to pitch for the San Francisco Giants.

Season 3 of Friends - Some of the best writing the show ever had. The One Where No One's Ready is the perfect episode of sitcom television.

I - wait, what!?

Who needs Sexy ___ costumes when you get home on Halloween to a package on the table and the following exchange:

ME: Oh yay! My checks are here! I don't need to give you the rent money in cash anymore!

MY ROOMMATE: Oh, that's checks? I thought maybe it was a sex toy.

ME:

Oh hey, get this! I went to a Halloween party last night that featured exactly ONE Sexy ____ costume and I'm pretty sure his Sexy Mormon was meant as a subversion. I showed up sans costume but was immediately outfitted in a riding hat, blazer, and horse competition buttons. It actually looked kind of perfect.

Other than my five minute fix thanks to the hostess and our Sexy Mormon, I saw:

Barry Gibb
a jellyfish
an Instagram (genius - it was a picture frame with pantyhose over it that she held up to her face)
rain and snow
girlfriends dressed as each other, complete with fake tattoos
TWO cosmonauts
an oldschool princess
a squirrel
an evil scientist
Facebook (complete with paper to post on the timeline and little Likes so you could paste those on too)

THEATRE PEOPLE. YES.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some online shopping to do. I wouldn't want to ruin my cred...

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Confession: I almost decided not to do a roundup of this year's most ridiculous Sexy ___ halloween costumes for women. I have been doing this for years (first on ye olde LiveJournal and then here at WTS) and I couldn't imagine that there would be anything better than what we've already seen. Sexy Big Bird? Been there. Sexy Carebears? Done that. Sexy Hulk Hogan? Blogged that, Brother!

But then... oh, but then I started looking around just for funsies. And I got a bunch of emails and links from friends who know I live for this stuff. The truth is, I cannot resist! Before we get to the roundup, check out what reader Sabiha sent my way: Fuck No Sexist Halloween Costumes. This is totally amazing and will make you mad for minutes on end! And now, without further ado.... this year's most ridiculous Sexy ____ Halloween Costumes! (Note: vaguely NSFW)

Sexy Octopus!

At first blush, this seems fairly tame, as far as Sexy ___ costumes go. But take a closer look just how high up the netting between the tentacles goes. I hope you scheduled a sexy brazilian wax before Halloween! Also, just THINK of all the clever Octopussy jokes that can be made to your face!

Sexy Bunch of Grapes!

True story: I was a bunch of grapes for Halloween in first grade and I looooooved that costume. Also, true story: I remember that costume very fondly because I was wearing it when my mom told me my Aunt Anne had given birth to her first child and I was SO HAPPY. Happy birthday, Sarah! Here are some Sexy Grapes for you!

Oh, but say you want to go to a party with your friend as a team costume? Why not...

Sexy Bert and Ernie!

What better way to destroy childhood innocence than through crop tops and tiny, tiny overalls? Just think: if these girls makeout it'll be like Bert and Ernie, nighttime bedroom edition! (Memo to Bert and Ernie: you are not fooling ANYONE with your separate twin beds. Puh-lease.)

Not feeling the Sesame Street vibe? Then, why not...

Sexy Mario and Luigi!

Note: the moustache is on a necklace. Koopa troopers not included.

Mario Brothers not your vibe? Looking for something a little more epic?

Sexy Link!

It's dangerous to go alone. Take this...boner.

Okay, maybe video games are a little too specific. How about something more universal?

Sexy Gnome!

Get ready for jokes about your garden! Added bonus: next year you can ditch the hat, add two beer mugs and boom! St. Pauli Girl!

Sexy Clown!

Perfect for when you want to scare the bejezus out of potential sexual partners! Pennywise? More like Pussywise! (See what I did there?)

Want something a bit more psychologically terrifying?

Sexy Alex DeLarge!

Without the eye makeup it's a half step away from Sally Bowles. Even so, I think this costume can get you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence. Or something. Sheesh.


Sexy Rooster!

OH C'MON! Coocoo-ka-CHA!

Moving on...

Sexy Michael Jackson!

TOO SOON!


YES, STILL!

Sexy Waldo!

Are we really sexualizing Where's Waldo now? Is that what it's come to? If Where's Waldo is sexy, it's like anything could be sexy. Jeez, what's next? Sexy Beetlejuice?

Sexy Beetlejuice!

Somewhere in England, Tim Burton is laughing and counting his money. In that same place, I'll bet it's safe to say that HBC has refused to wear this getup at least three times. Stay strong, HBC!

Okay, my dear readers. I need you to prepare yourself for what is about to happen. It's pretty upsetting, honestly, and also unbelievably funny.


Are you ready?









I really don't think you are ready.







Last chance to turn back.








Okay. Brace yourselves....




Sexy Baby!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAHAHAHAHA NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Just for a moment, imagine you are at a Halloween party tonight and THIS walks in. Just think about what your face would do if this walked into a party you were attending.  I'm pretty sure I'd look like this:

And I would never recover.


Finally, as a palate cleanser, I offer you...

Sexy Bacon!

Happy Halloween, you pieces of meat!

MONSTER

Apologies for the hiatus, my dear readers. I had the good fortune to go to Chicago with my dear girl Mix for a milestone birthday celebration and then just sort of got swallowed up by work. While we were in Chicago we ate alllllllllll the brunches, ate a lot of pizza, and beered all the beers. I'll tell you a few good food and drink stories tomorrow (Goose Island, Girl and the Goat, and the bar where 13 year old boys are in heaven).

But today I need to tell you that I believe I may have created a monster.

Tonight the Philadelphia theatre community will celebrate last season's achievements and accomplishments and a couple of awards worth thousands of dollars (seriously) will be given. In past years, this was a huge awards ceremony and everyone dressed to the nines, causing some to call it Theatre Prom. This year some changes have been made and it's a truncated sort of celebration, though still just as lovely (we are promised). But here's the thing: dress code was said to be... business casual.

Anyway, I'm not doing that. I wear business casual every day and I will be damned if I wear work clothes to Theatre Prom. This decision means a couple of things to my life:

1. I had nightmares all night that no one else dressed up and I looked stupid.

2. I have necklace anxiety.

The first issue is easily resolved. I clearly remember going to a birthday party when I was in high school where I was way, way overdressed and felt kind of dumb but just went with it and pretended I didn't care even though I was willing myself to die of shame. AS IT TURNS OUT, I did not die of embarrassment that night. I therefore deduce that I will probably not die of embarrassment at any point in my life, so I may as well look fly. 

The second issue is the monster I have created. Every single person (mostly women, admittedly) I've spoken with about this event has said something about me wearing a necklace. Every. Single. Person.

Now. Let's be clear: I am so glad that people read this silly little blog! I am glad you have taken up the CUAN rally cry! Thank you! This feels good! However. I am now crippled by necklace anxiety to the point of having nightmares about it. I am serious, it's that sad.

The good news is, this is a dress that leaves a lot of real estate open for necklace-wearing. The bad news is I have no idea which necklace to wear, so I borrowed jewelry and I'm going to have a consultant (friend drinking wine in my room with me) help me decide.

So, my dear readers, if you too are going to Theatre Prom tonight, I promise you that I will be wearing a necklace. You tell me if it's the right one. I'd hate to let you down.

Puppies and Nina and Collars and Lena

My dear readers! I survived the 10 year college reunion, albeit barely! Let's just say there was a lot of free beer and a lot of people I hadn't seen in a decade and it was overwhelming... in a good way! The 20 minutes no one could find me? I had locked myself in a bathroom and was working on the play I'm directing, just to have a little brain break.

As a little brain break for y'all on this Friday afternoon, let me shower you with things I have been thinking about lately, or have been sent to me.

First of all - wtf how is it Friday? I have been a day behind all week. AND I just realized that I have Monday off, which is awesome because that means that I have NOTHING planned during the day because I thought I'd be working. Reader Sara sent me a photo of the cutest little dog ever and this is how I feel right now.

I will take the dog AND the coffee, please.

Another thing we need to talk about is Academic Nina Garcia, my new favorite tumblr. Thank you so much to Reader Jeff (aka TES) for alerting me to the beauty and hilarity that is this site. It's a good reminder that the most basic advice is applicable in all areas of life: DON'T BORE NINA.

And then Reader Elle alerted me to the, ahem, detachable decorative collars that are "all over New York right now," according to Ms. Elle. Let's talk about this because the sparklefarkle Peter Pan collar phenomenon is one that apparently some people think I would like because it is worn around the neck. NOT SO FAST. I'm sure there are women who can pull this look off beautifully, but someone please tell me the difference between this:

and this:

Friends don't let friends wear 2012-era dickeys. Or if they do, they point said friends to the ones that are on sale. Have a little self respect and at least get the gold sequined one.

Last but not least, let's have a talk about Lena Dunham. I love Girls; I think it's stupid good. This is actually surprising because I don't tend to enjoy entertainment that is based off uncomfortable situations and characters who are sometimes really not good people. I'm willing to say it outloud: Bridesmaids was difficult for me. I just felt so awkward and upset the whole time. How is Kristen Wiig's character supposed to pay for all that stuff?! I was really worried!

Anyway, back to Girls and Lena. I don't have too much bad to say about the girl. She's a genius writer, I love her haircut, and I am really jealous of how much she has accomplished at such a young age but...

WEAR SOME GODDAMN PANTS!

DON'T BORE NINA.

Pop Quiz, Hotshot

True or False: you can contract gonorrhea by way of blowjob?


TRUE.


True or False: As an nascent sex educator, I totally knew that, right?


FALSE.


You guys. I read this article on Jezebel and I was like...

and then I was like...

and then I was like...

and then I was like...

and then I was like...

and then I was like...

Oh hey, also, this (emphasis mine):

"The adaptive nature of the gonococcus, coupled with the prevalence of unprotected oral sex, all but insures that drug-resistant gonorrhea will eventually take root in the general heterosexual population," Groopman warns, adding that "Whatever freedoms were won during the sexual revolution, bacterial evolution promises soon to constrain."

So, let's review: there is now antibiotic-resistant "super gonorrhea" and you can get it from unprotected blowjobs.

Now I'm like this:

but I'm also like this...