Red Nose

Won't You Please, Please Help Me?

No, I am not above quoting the Beatles!

I was reading DC Blogs yesterday and clicked through to a very funny post from The Big Piece of Cake. The entry was delightful, but what really caught my eye was the blurb at the bottom about a show called Listen to Your Mother.

This show is about motherhood, Auditions are being held in February. Auditioners prepare and deliver an essay about motherhood, from being a mother to having a mother to just thinking about mothers. The pieces need to be personal, about 5 minutes long.

I've decided to ask for an audition. I haven't acted in a long, long time and I would love to get back into it. Of course, there are a lot of "ifs" -- if I snag an audition appointment, if I don't screw up the audition, if I get selected for the show...

But, as the Great One says, you miss 100% of the shots you never take, so I'm taking a shot.

And I need your help! Which entry should I use as my audition piece? I'll probably edit it to ensure it fits the time limit, but the bulk of the entry will be the same. Anyway, here are the entries I'm considering. Take a look, then pick your favorite in the following poll.

Today She Was in China
Who Knows Where the Spirit Goes
Three Hours in the Stationhouse
Holding Her Hand
She Just Wants to Go Home
Straight into My Heart

Thanks and wish me luck!

 

A Dress that Impressed!

I hardly ever wear dresses, but I love them just the same. A good go-to dress is a must -- it can serve for many occasions, from business-y to dressy-y, from daytime to nighttime. It should flatter and feel good. It should fit well, so that you're not always mussing around with it; you know, pulling at the skirt or fiddling with neckline or adjusting a belt or sash.

I now have that dress, thanks to Igigi by Yuliya Raquel and Weetacon.

Once again, Igigi offered us gorgeous gals our pick of their fashions in exchange for a review*. I chose the Lynette Sweater Dress in truffle. Here I am, modeling it at the Weetacon Fashion Show.

I was delighted from the moment I slipped this dress over my head. The empire waist is wonderfully flattering, and the print sash added just the right oomph to the outfit. The knitted fabric is soft but substantial, and the lining completely cures any tendency toward clinginess. Personally, I think this dress will work three seasons out of four -- it may a tad too warm for hot summer wearing, but it's perfect for fall, winter, and spring.

I'm definitely going to wear it to work on Important Big Meeting days (and it would be a fantastic interview dress -- hmmm), and I may even wear it to my nephew's wedding in June -- if it's not too hot. (If it is hot, I have another Igigi dress that I'll wear.)

The scoop neckline is not too revealing, but low enough to show off a nice string of pearls or other necklace. The sleeves are three-quarter length, which means I'll be able to show off my nice silver cuff bracelets. And, the really cute headband that I got from Gracie Designs (and seen in the picture) goes perfectly with the sash!

This dress makes me feel so pretty! I really can't think of anything about it that I don't like. Of the many Igigi garments that I already own (five dresses; five tops), this one is my favorite, hands down.

Want a chance to shop at Igigi and save some money? Just go to the Igigi website, pick out the garment you'd love to have for your very own and leave a comment here on this post, telling me exactly how you'd accessorize your new Igigi fashion and where you plan to wear it. One lucky commenter will receive a free $50 gift certificate.

But wait, there's more! Each of the Weetacon Igigi reviewers will be giving away a $50 gift certificate to Igigi, so you can enter by leaving one comment on each of those reviews too. Yes, you read this right: Weetacon and Igigi are giving away over $1000 in Igigi by Yuliya Raquel gift certificates! The only catch is that you must enter by May 15 and you can only enter once per review. Winners will be announced on Weetacon Igigi review page by May 18th.

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*Igigi had no control over the content of this review, but -- as mentioned -- I did get to keep the dress. Woot!

Shameless Promotion

So the Overlord (my boss's boss) bought everyone in my group a Christmas present -- a copy of The Book! (Well, not me; I've already got a copy. And I know the ending. Heh.) I had a lot of mixed emotions when he announced this at the department Holiday Dinner -- shock, happiness, embarrassment, a little fear, a "there goes my anonymity" feeling, an "oh shit" feeling, giddiness -- you name it.

Today he came up to my cube and said, "I want to give you a hug! Can I give you a hug?"

And... what do you say to that? What the hell; I gave him a hug. A nice, collegial, pat-pat sort of hug, because really -- BOSS'S BOSS.

Then he told me that he'd read the book and really liked it, that it was authentic, that I was a good writer, and so on and so forth, and I just sat here and said "thank you" and "I'm so glad" a lot.

Now I'm nervous. I hope that everyone else likes it too, but I know there's no guarantee of that. And that's okay. I don't need to hug everybody. 

Anyway, he also asked me if that was the only book.

I hate that question.

So. Here's my New Year's Resolution: I'm going to finish the damn sequel, once and for all. I have a few ideas for getting it done, which I'll share once I rein them in and get them under control.

(By the way, if you're inclined to buy a copy of The Book, you can get 25% off until January 31. Just buy it from Lulu.com and use coupon code LULUBOOK305. Click that big old book over in the sidebar.)

And that wraps up my contributions to this year's Holidailies!

Not About The Hurricane

Yes, yes, yes... there's a goddamn hurricane bearing down on the east coast. Ocean City is under a mandatory evacuation order, blah blah blah.

I will, no doubt, write about the goddamn hurricane, but not now.

Now I want to talk about how I helped set a new world record!

My great good friend Andrea posted on Facebook about UkeFest 2011 and asked if anyone would like to go with her. Now how, I ask you, can anyone resist going to a ukelele festival?? I couldn't, especially since the main event at the fest was the attempt to break the Guiness world record for simultaneous strumming! The record is 851 ukelele players strumming and singing at once.

So Andrea and I met up at the metro station and hoofed it on over to the festival. The evening was perfect: warm, nice breeze, no bugs. Andrea registered to be counted as a player; I did not, because I did not have and cannot play a ukelele.

While Andrea registered, I scanned the crowd and found two wonderful clowns! Mark Jaster, who is a friend of one of my oldest friends, and Michael Rosman, a fellow Clown College grad. They are both supremely talented! Mark was in character; Michael is a character! (Heh.) If you ever get a chance to see these guys, go!

Andrea and I staked out a spot on the lawn, grabbed some supper from the barbeque shack, and settled in to listen to the various wonderful musicians. They included Cathy Fink and Marcy Marxer, The Sweater Set, and several other ukelele experts. I really loved an amateur ukelele group called The Riders, a group of seniors ages 68 through 94. They were great!

The crowd got bigger and bigger, but would there be enough strummers to breat the record?? The emcee kept encouraging folks to register, yet it seemed like we would fall short. There were 452 registered; there were 602 people registered! It was almost time, oh no!

 Andrea kept encouraging me to sign up, but first I would have to buy a ukelele. And wouldn't you know it? The House of Musical Traditions (a wonderful area music store) had ukeleles for sale, including beginner ukes for the princely sum of $40.

I caved -- it didn't take much, if I'm honest. I trotted over to the table, picked out a candy apple red number (no metal flake, alas!), forked over my cash, and registered. Andrea tuned up the uke and gave me a crash course in three chords: C, F, and G7. Those were the only chords I needed to play the two required songs.

Finally, the announcement! Did we have enough players??

YES! We had a grand total of 944 registered players!

Now it was time to strum. I did my best, but I'm glad there were so many other players there to drown out my clumsy attempt to play. At any rate, we played enthusiastic versions of This Land Is Your Land and Aloha O'e.

So yeah, I helped break a record! And I own a candy apple red ukelele -- luckily, I can take lessons starting in September.

 

Revelry At Renn Fest

Yesterday I took the lovely and talented Deb up on her offer to get together and off we went to the Maryland Renaissance Festival.

We had a blast!

We actually had A Plan, which was to see as many shows as possible, interspersed with eating and drinking.

Notice that I did not mention "shopping." While I enjoy browsing in the shops, I have learned that I really have no need for a snood or a corset or a chain mail brassiere. I have plenty of jewelry and more art than I know what to do with. Handmade goblet? Got one. Floppy velvet hat? Yep.

So it's on with the shows!

Almost as soon as we got in the gate, a show started up at the nearest wee stage: Coeur de Lion, a Celtic quartet. Quite nice and a great way to start the day.

Next up, at the next stage down the lane, was Larksalot the Bald, who was ribald as well as bald, and who did, well, this:

Ten burly guys from the audience held the rope and another lay underneath as Larksalot juggled knives. No wonder the guy underneath was protecting his groinal area.

After Larksalot, we stayed put to see A Fool Called O and LaLa. I happen to know O -- he's a wonderful mime named Mark Jaster. I've seen his work several times, but I've never seen his O character. I'm so glad I have now! He and his wife Sabrina Mandell (LaLa) did a lovely act, including a most beautiful rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow on the musical saw (YES!) and ukelele.

After O and LaLa, we wandered over to the Royal Stage to catch Johnny Fox, an amazing sleight of hand artist and swordswallower. Yep, swordswallower. He's been doing this for 30 years -- that's a lotta swords!

After Johnny Fox, we were feeling a little peckish and thus repaired to one of the many food booths for some Steak on a Stake, after which we frequented one of the many pubs for a refreshing beverage.

On to the next stage for one of my absolute favorite Clown College alums, Michael Rosman, aka the Squire of the Wire. Michael is one of the funniest, most talented circus arts performers that I know. He's a wonderful cigar box juggler -- well, he's a wonderful juggler, period -- but the highlight of his act is his wire walking.

Yep -- more knife juggling, this time on a tight wire about 10 feet off the ground! (And under the kilt? Well... no, I can't tell. It would be wrong.)

We skipped the overcrowded jousting show and instead grabbed seats for Hack and Slash, the hilarious sword fighters. They were extremely loose for this performance -- the result, I think, of several trips to the ale keg. Nonetheless, they were very funny as only Hack and Slash can be.

By this time it was 5:00 and time to bid farewell to our ersatz 16th century.

Farewell! And Huzzah!

Dressing Up

Normally I do not don the fancy duds when I go to a Very Bad Bar, for I like to be comfy when I'm indulging in adult beverages and flinging my ass around the dance floor.

But when the opportunity arose to test out and review a dress from the wonderful plus-size fashion house Igigi, I leapt at it like a gazelle escaping from a hungry lion, especially since I got to keep the dress. I chose the Carolina Swirl dress, because when you are going to a Very Bad Bar that plays the Weetacon anthem, how can you not wear that dress? It's like an order!

Anyway, I was a little worried when I looked at the tag: size 12. What? I thought I had ordered a 14/16, but there it was: 12. But I pulled it on over my head and lo! It was good! The larger size may have given me more room about the hips, but the size 12 top fit perfectly. The neckline, as you can see, was sexy without being too revealing.

 

The dress was so comfy -- no need to tug or adjust; no worries about cling. It pulled on over my head and settled right down over my flabby bits curves, accentuating the good and minimizing the bad. And this from a dress that was supposedly a size too small!

Best of all, it packs like a dream.

Now, you will notice that I am wearing pantyhose. I had to buy them, for I did not own a single pair. I chose size Q, because the next size up was 4X and I am not there (yet). The legs fit just fine, but boyoboy, I had to stretch the top over mah belleh until it practically screamed. (Or maybe I screamed. I forget.)

Queen size, my ass.

Well, actually, yes.

Okay.

Anyway, I was wearing nylon undies, so the pantyhose were barely holding on -- I sensed that slippage was imminent. Sure enough, as I sat down to dinner the hose finally gave up and beat a hasty retreat and suddenly I was wearing extremely lo-rise pantyhose.

I was a little scared to stand up, fearing complete pantyhose failure -- how do you explain that to a room full of people? I was lucky, though, as the hose were still hanging on in the back. So off to the bathroom I went to rearrange.

Success!

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And now for a brief commercial: Really, if you're a lady of size, do check out Igigi's fashions. If you find something you like - and I know you will - use the promo code WEETACON to get 20% off your purchase. Pretty nice, eh? (And that is as close to an ad as you will ever see here at Chez Red Nose.)

Beware, Brother, Beware*

I have been very remiss in not announcing the latest winner of Two Pats On The Head. I have decided, because I get to, that there are two winners: the lovely and talented Green Tuna and the lovely and talented Fredlet both correctly identified "Whatever Lola Wants" as being from the musical Damn Yankees. Green Tuna was first from a blog comment standpoint, but Fredlet replied by email shortly after midnight. So two pats to both of them!

Now on to the entry!

We were coming home from the hockey game Saturday night. The Metro train was jam packed; Joe and I were up against the door, along with two sozzled hockey fans. Pretty soon Drunky McDrunkerson started bleating loudly, "Man, I really have to piss, man! Like I'm literally going to piss my pants, man! I'm gettin' off here so I can take a piss because my bladder is about to bust!"

His companion, Plastered McHammeredson, said "No man! Where are you gonna go? We only have a couple more stops! Hold it!"

A discussion ensued, with Drunky handing Plastered his car keys. "Here, just wait in the car. I'll meet you there. 'Cause I really gotta go, man!"

At this point I said "Could you turn the other way at least?"

He didn't hear me.

Or maybe he didn't quite comprehend what I was saying.

At any rate, the train stopped and he lurched off, followed by his fellow partier. Those of us in the immediate vicinity of Drunky the Mad Pisser breathed a little easier. I did worry, though, about the fact that this guy was going to be driving soon.

People. Please. Don't do that to yourselves. It never ends well, especially if my son on duty. In fact, when we want to determine whether we are sober enough to drive, we ask ourselves this question: If SonnyeBoy pulled us over, would we find ourselves in jail?

I'm not trying to lecture anybody, really I'm not. But with New Year's Eve coming up soon, it's worth thinking about. I could never understand it when an old friend would say, "I got so drunk last night that I puked over my balcony railing! It was so much fun!"

I'm sorry if I'm a wet blanket, but how is that fun? Personally, I have never found puking to be fun. Ever. Also, I rather like to remember what I did of an evening.

Okay, I'm stepping off the soapbox and stopping with the finger wagging. But just remember this:  if you drink and drive you could be helping SonnyeBoy win yet another award.

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*Two pats on head to the first person who can tell me what jump blues great wrote "Beware, Brother, Beware".

What's Happening?

Hi!

I know, I know; it's been a while. Let's get caught up, shall we?

Mom

Mom continues to hold her own. This woman is amazing. She can sit in a wheelchair for a couple hours a day and carry on a conversation, but just when you think she might beat back death once again, the conversation takes a turn. I visited her yesterday and she told me she wanted to host Thanksgiving this year.

Yeah.

I decided to play along, not wanting to upset her by pointing out that it might be difficult to have eight people over for a big turkey dinner when you're pretty much bedridden. Instead, we planned out the meal. She had a blast, so I think I did the right thing there.

Hockey

My Capitals finally snapped their four-game losing streak by beating the San Jose Sharks 4-1! Then they beat the Nashville Predators in the shootout 3-2! My adopted son Alex Ovechkin is leading the league in goals and points. He's a beast, I tell you, a beast. And cute, in a Russian kind of way.

 

(Okay, I cheated. This shot is from the HD Jumbotron. Still!)

Lunch

I love a good Italian joint, so when the lovely and talented Deb suggested a nice place near both of us, I jumped at the chance. It had been way too long between lunch dates for Deb and me, so we really made the most of it. Good food, good friend, good visit!

Stuff on eBay

I'm cleaning out my jewelry box! If you're in the market for some nice pieces, check out my eBay auctions. I'll be putting more things up as the days go by and I dig deeper through my unused and lonely baubles, so check back often.

It's A Major Award!

Wow! I've been stung by three Premio Dardos. The lovely and talented Jim, the lovely and talented L'Empress, and the lovely and talented Bev all seem to think I have a good blog or something. I'm really really flattered!!

Evidently there are rules:

Premio Dardos means “prize darts” in Italian and is awarded for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary and personal values in the form of creative and original writing. The rules are as follows:

1. Accept the award by pasting the graphic on your blog along with the name of the person who granted the award and a link to his/her blog.
2. Pass the award to another 15 blogs that are worthy of acknowledgment, remembering to contact each so they know they have been selected.

I have to say that Rule #2 will be difficult -- many of the blogs I would nominate have already been nominated. Also, I am a wuss and don't want to leave anyone out or piss anyone off or hurt anyone's feelings. So I am going to be real namby-pamby and simply say that I love all the blogs I read, otherwise I wouldn't read them!

Guest Post: Please Welcome Golf Widow!

Hey, it's my first guest post! Or first post by a guest! Or first guest to write a post! Or something. You know what I mean. Anyway, the lovely and talented Golf Widow has a pretty nifty offer out there, to wit: Donate two bucks to her "I've Just Gotten Laid Off and I'm Panicky" fund and she will write a guest post for you, on the subject of your choice.

Well, Golf Widow is wickedly funny, and I had just gotten a rather nice bonus, so I thought, "Hey. I like Golf Widow, and I have two bucks. I will give it to her, and I will let her write whatever she chooses."

By the way, you should also buy her book! Or make someone buy it for you! It's here:

Getting My Think On

And here is her official Red Nose Guest Post.

Hi - I'm guest-posting for my favorite lady clown, today.

I'm sort of inspired to talk about the circus a little, obviously.

I actually have two clowny blog-buddies. Andy Martello, who is also my podcast cohost, is a Ringling graduate, though he doesn't work in a circus environment anymore. This is because, in a mad fit of irony, he married a woman who is terrified of clowns.

I used to be afraid of clowns myself, when I was a tiny kid. It wasn't anything personal. I was afraid of anyone who concealed their faces in any way, even by accident. My poor uncle had to cope with my hiding whenever he and his newly-cultivated mustache approached me. Our neighbor, another mustachioed gentleman, used to wait at the bottom of the slide so we wouldn't fall. I'd let him catch me (I wasn't allowed to slide without a grownup), but I kept my head well turned away. My mother once had to calm my terror just because a bottle of ketchup splattered on her cheeks.

Eventually, I got over my fear of clowns, but it was still years before I got to go to a real circus.

Circumstances conspired against me. The circus wasn't in town when I was in kindergarten; it was, when my brother went to kindergarten the next year.

The first circus I went to was the one my brother's kindergarten class put on, after their field trip. My brother was the ringmaster. I was hellaciously, inordinately proud of this fact, even though he was way littler than my first-grade self.

You think I don't remember any of this. His top hat was made of green construction paper. Take that, memory banks.

The Big Apple Circus came to town a few times over the years, but I missed out on it every time for a while, there. It seemed they scheduled their tours to coincide with strep throat season. Everyone else was having popcorn and watching clowns. I was home having ginger ale and watching The Price is Right.

Finally, finally, the circus was in town at the same time I was actually healthy enough to go, and we went.

And I hated it.

The animals looked sad, and scared, and they smelled bad. The clowns looked happy from far away, but when they got close, you could see that that was just makeup - underneath, they looked ... bored.

I later learned from Andy that that couldn't have been any kind of quality circus, and that his own training was rigid about making sure you were In the Moment when you were being a clown. I rather agree with him, on that score. I still didn't like the fact that the animals couldn't get on a bus and leave if they weren't happy, but I eventually got over the whole bored-clown trauma.

My mother went to see "Barnum" at dinner theater, and had to convince a clown that he couldn't have anything to eat off her plate. I was sorry to have missed out on that experience (though I did go through a similar exchange with a hippie when I saw "Hair" performed in the round).

I haven't been to a traditional circus since that one-ring when I was a kid, but I do occasionally watch them on television, and I enjoy reading about them.

I wept copiously over the film "The Greatest Show on Earth," but it was a good weepy movie.

And Andy makes fun of me for liking Cirque du Soleil, but it is what it is: no animals; and the clowns are funny not because of their makeup, which is minimal, but because of their antics.

As is only right and proper. They don't call it "clowning around" because they're good at applying greasepaint.

By the way, Andy was not in my Clown College class, because he is just a precious darling boy and attended way later than I did. But he's totally right -- we were taught to always be in character and in the moment.

Honest, we're not all scary.

Thank you, Golf Widow!