I Really Like Him (Man Of La Mancha)

I hate my father.

You're Getting To Be A Habit With Me (42nd Street)

Tonight I performed in the 2nd Annual Showtune Showdown. Teams of four from three local theatre companies came out to perform four numbers each and answer showtune trivia questions. We won two of the three showdown rounds. There was an audience round in which the winning audience member got to give their points to the group of their choice and they chose the eventual winners. That's pretty much what did us in. But otherwise we performed really well. I opened with the show with All The Wasted Time. My duet partner and I set the bar with our amazing performance. Not gonna lie. It was hot. We received 9 of 10 from each of the judges. I ended the evening with my amazing rendition of I Can't Do It Alone. I can't say my singing was spot on, but my dancing was effing sexual. I totally gave the audience a show, and got two 10s and a 9. Needless to say I ended the number in the splits. The best splits I've ever done in my life, no word of a lie. The black judge (got bless her, she was fabulous) just shook her head at me as if to say "Oh no you di-in't!" She said "Don't sing. Don't dance. Just do the splits."

Other news: I'm playing the love interest in the 100th anniversary musical we're doing. It's pretty much a cabaret. I'm in Steam Heat, I Hope I Get It (in which the lead notices me because I'm the best dancer - ha!), Summer Nights, which we sing together as Danny and Sandy, and my big number is Showstopper. I'm also dancing in like 10 other numbers. I can't wait. The lead used to sing with the girl who played Sophie in The Grace Of Mary Traverse. Weird, eh?

Also weird. Our Cabaret and MTP teacher is in town. We plan on getting together sometime next week to catch up. Apparently he's cleaned himself up. Hopefully.

First Letter/Second Letter/Third Letter (Passion)

Dear Movie Goer At The Theatre Last Night,

When you enter a ninety seat theatre and there are but nine other people waiting for the movie to start, please don't sit in the seat directly in front of mine. I have no problem with you sitting in the row directly in front of mine, but plopping your ass down one seat over would have made all the difference in the world. The movie has subtitles, and while I speak Spanish, the dialect from Spain is different than that from Mexico and Penelope Cruz's breasts are distracting, and your big head would have perfectly blocked them from my vision (the subtitles, not the breasts).

Sincerely,

Skinny-Rabbit

PS: The fact that you didn't even notice that I stood up and moved down the aisle proves to me that you are oblivious and shouldn't be allowed in public.


Dear Movie Goer At The Theatre Last Night Who Arrived After I Had Already Moved Down The Aisle,

There are eighty other seats to choose from in the room. So why did you think it would be a good idea to sit the aisle seat in the very row I was sitting in, henceforth blocking me in, setting up for an unfortunately awkward and uncomfortable situation in the event I need to get up and go to the washroom during the screening of the motion picture. Luckily for you I never get up during a movie, fatso.

Thank you for your time,

Skinny-Rabbit


Dear Movie Goer At The Theatre A Couple Of Weeks Ago,

You're there by yourself and I dig that. I do it too. I get that you're lonely and probably a big nerd. I'm not judging you based on the fact that you have no one to go to a movie with, because as I just said, I like to go to movies by myself as well. I judge you because you're loud and obnoxious and displayed a behaviour I have never seen before. If something makes you laugh, then by all means, laugh. Don't, however, being making commentary to yourself and go announcing out loud (very loudly) exactly why you found the humourous moments to be, well, humourous. You make me sick.

Love,

Skinny-Rabbit.

Hear My Song (Songs For A New World)

My voice is tired. So am I. Me thinks it's time to get back into singing lessons.

Why am I such a lazy bastard? I believe in myself, right? I have total confidence in my abilities, don't I? If I think I'm so great then how come I never submit myself for anything? A friend of mine who works for Stephanie Gorin told me to send my package and request an audition for the boss's grandson in Dirty Dancing. That was like two weeks ago and I've done nothing. A big part of this, and the same reason I never pursued an audition for We Will Rock You, and countless other open calls, is because I actually don't believe I'd get it. I have to sort out my priorities. Do I actually want to be a musical theatre performer? I'm thinking I should forget that dream and go fuck some shit up in the film world (but am I even a film actor?). I'm tired.

I'm also trying to break my five-year-plus writer's block. I just made the connection as I wrote that, that I recently just picked up a book that I dropped around the time I stopped writing. Maybe that's a sign. If I can finish the book, maybe then I can start writing again.

My New Philosophy (You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown)

It all began two years ago when my girl at work kept coming up to me and telling me that my boss wanted to see me in her office. She pulled this so often that it got to the point where I would just respond with a calm, cool, monotone "Ok. Perfect."

Now that we work together at the same restaurant again, but in Ottawa, it has become more. We've begun following up anything the other person says with the same unfazed "Ok. Perfect." Other variations include "Ok. Great." "Ok. Fantastic." "If you could just sign here..."

We've been doing this so much that it's actually crept into everyday conversation with other people, and is now pretty much a way of life. I'll drop salsa all over myself in front of customers at work and say "Ok. Perfect." Then move on. I'll be driving and a car will almost hit me but I'll swerve at the last minute avoiding a near-fatal collision and say "Ok. Great. Perfect."

The beauty of it is that it takes all the pressure off of a stressful situation. Just say those words as if they mean nothing and they'll mean so much. It's all good in the hood. Nothing to worry about. Life goes on. Perfect. If you could just sign here...

Make 'Em Laugh (Singin' In The Rain)

I love watching videos of people falling and this one may just be the best I've ever seen. Reasons why I think this video is special:



a) The unsuspecting fall victim thinks she's so cute right before she falls. She tries to be sneaky and funny, but she ends up just fucking herself over.

b) The poor woman next to her with no obvious personality just stands there with no apparent reaction for a good two seconds.

c) The anchors who clearly want to bust a gust laughing but struggle to maintain their composure because they are on live television. I don't know if the female anchor could have held out much longer. She almost let out a laugh. Props to them. If it were me I would be doubled over in a fit of laughter and would probably have been fired that day.

I'm Not That Girl (Wicked)

I'm obsessed with Miranda. I want to be her so badly. I keep finding myself in her. I was watching the episodes when she first meets Steve. He playfully comes on to her, she's a bitch to him, they go to bed together, she's a bitch to him, he loves it... There's this guy who kept wanting to get with me and I was the biggest asshole to him. I kept rejecting him, and he kept persisting, no matter how mean I was to him, he knew I saw in me what Steve saw in Miranda. I finally agreed to meet him and we made out and it was nice but he was ugly and had bad teeth. But his personality was totally cute and Steve-like. I kept cutting him down and he smiled the whole way through, just like Miranda does. Now he keeps texting me and I don't return the texts, but he doesn't seem to be giving up on me. Maybe he thinks we'll have a baby after he gets testicular cancer and then get married in Season 6 and move to Brooklyn. Maybe.

My friend who's dating five guys is after this new guy named Steve, who's a bartender at the Royal Oak. We keep going in to see him and there's this short-haired redhead who works with him and we call her Miranda, and he's totally Steve.

I'm not only obsessed with Miranda, I'm obsessed with the entire show. I have two friends who have kept their hair long their entire lives and have recently cut their hair short. I call them both Season 5 Carrie.

I need to stop. Someone please come take away my DVDs. Is there a 12-step program for people like me? Someone please! I'm BEGGING YOU!

Happy New Year (Rent)

So I don't want to call the following my new years resolutions. Just things I plan to do in the next little while. Ugh.

Become a morning person by sleeping at decent hours and waking up early enough so that I can have breakfast and work out to the dance class in Centre Stage.

Exercise to more than the dance class in Centre Stage.

Kill the last $4000 off my debt.

Save at least $4000 more.

whiten teeth.

Get that $200 prescription filled out.

Get an STD test.

Get new headshots, a haircut, more headshots.

Get the fuck out of Ottawa.