This is not a pretty picture...

...It could not be pretty and still be true. What happens to the girl is unimportant... What happens to the others is more than important; it is the most vital issue of our time. This story is about a sickness, a spreading epidemic that threatens to destroy our very way of life. We are not doctors... We can offer no cure... But we know that a cure must be found...

Cue the Musical sting.........!


Tonight I watched Teenage Doll, and it was insightful and at the same time ridiculous! 


Lets start with the most important thing out there right now: Boys when all else fails, just have the greaser look, please, for my sake. 


Probably to coolest thing about this movie is it starts with you under the impression that the "bad girls" are just out to be bad. Then slowly they take you through each ones home life where they don't have a chance to be anything but bad. You have the dunk families, you have the non existent families, and even families that aren't so bad they just need to have a closer eye on their daughter. 


We also need to take a moment to address the cover: 

Do you want to know a secret about this cover? Almost none of the people pictured are in the movie, in fact the lead actress (the giant picture) is about 15 years older in this picture than how she appears in the film: 

...and those other chicks didn't ever show, not once. 

Today was  blockeriffic, tomorrow I got nothing so it looks like some memorization with a side of gnarly faces 101.

I took the night off

Tonight I watched the most racist movie I have ever witnessed.
That's right, for the first time in my life I watched Breakfast at Tiffanys, and I know deep within my soul that 87% of girls who dress as Holly Golightly and/or own the movie poster and/or who "loooooooove Audrey Hepburn, like she's totes my fave" have never once sat down and watched any of her movies.
I've read the book, it's pretty damn good, I can't envision anything  but Truman Capote as the writer who is enamored with Holly. Never in my wildest dreams would I have picked Mickey Rooney to play an elderly Japanese man (RACISM), and most assuredly I would have picked fewer places to play "Moon River".

I will ask however that you wrap me in the entire wardrobe and bury me please, especially the strippers dress.

Also please everyone, stop being wrapped in everything  Zooey Deschanel does, there will always be a crazy wide eyed girl to do movies. Always.
Thank you, and remember that tonights blog was brought to you by Male Gigolos:


Male gigolos for when having a gay lead male just won't cut it!

Last night I was crushing super hard on John Waters, today I'm falling for Wanda Jackson. She released this in '54 and it made it to number 8 on the country charts and she was only sixteen.

I've got a forty dollar a day liquid eyeliner habit

Most of my life I have always wanted to do my own thing. When I was really young my mom made all of my clothes because the ones in the store were terrible. It was a fantastically early nineties mother daughter collaboration collection, which means there was an over sized bow and scrunchie that coordinated with everything.
The older I got the more I simply found things and put them on. Once there was an early teen pure hatred fueled argument between my mother and myself because she refused to let me go somewhere in a vintage schoolgirl plaid skirt and cub scout shirt. (All of that got resolved when she simply became thankful I wasn't dressing like a slut.)
To this day I do what I want, and today is when it all made sense.
Up until this point the only John Waters experience I really had was some of Pecker and A Dirty Shame (which consequently almost caused me to rape the boy I had a crush on at the time, wrong movie to sit on my bed together and watch at nineteen. Especially since it was the day before leaving to teach at an all girls camp for two months, rape would not be an exaggeration.)
Female Trouble.
Holy fuck, I finally get whats been wrong with me my whole life.
Sometimes I joke that I was born a drag queen and I'm pretty sure this movie confirmed it, I NEED to shave the sides of my head to give my eyebrows a place to call home. I NEED to own sequined pants with pinfeathers from the knee down and I NEED to get my hair that big.
The alternate universe that all of these films takes place in has always been the alternate universe going on for me, somehow I've made to Oz made it where I need to be.

The trio of Dawn, Concetta and Chicklette is killer, they are total badasses and make it super cool, in fact stupidly cool. Taffy Davenport ended up being the one that helped me the most though. She is a child that has only been spit on, ever, lets be real her mom tells her ever day that she should have been aborted because she's mentally retarded, not to mention her step dad is constantly offering to have her suck his dick. Her being played by a grown person makes the difference that I think Scotts going for: Be natural to react because it's easier to lash out then to actually take the time, time can equal hurt.

Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to see how high I can get my hair, sew some giant ruffles onto some coats and try to figure out just how I can mainline some eyeliner, I hear it's a hell of a drug.

Wanda Jackson! Yes Ma'am!
Right now I'm at work which means there is no better time than now for working on the show, right? That being said I got a bit out of the mindset for rehearsal (too much of that Zep-Head BF this weekend, but I did put some serious character study into tongue kissing (much to his dismay I also practiced singing and tonguing)) and in order to get back I've been rocking out to some killer chtunes this morning.
Of course there's Buddy Holly and Elvis, complimented by Janis Martin (billed as The Female Elvis), Wanda Jackson and a few new ones that may cause obsessions Bill Riley and His Little Green Men, or The Collins Kids for instance.
When I was in Jr. high and high school (alright and admittedly now) I wanted nothing more than to be in a Ska band and as I got older I wanted to be in a Rockabilly band. Unfortunately spending time and money to sound like Julie Andrews wasn't going to get me closer to that dream, and it felt like the more training I had the further away I got from the sound I wanted.
Part of this process is going to be able to find a way to make my character rip as I had talked about before, but more importantly I want to be able to let go of the musical-y side of me and let my voice rip. I need to be able to growl out a line like Kim Lenz , and I know somewhere in me I can do that. It's going to take banishing  judgmental  Sarah:

God She is such a bitch, not to mention Ye who judges should probs not sip on Ol'Fashion Bud.

And allowing the " I don't give a fuck!" Porter in:

Not a single fuck was given by that pig. Ever.

It's there and I know it. I plan to coax it out slowly, like it's a feral kitty hiding under the bed.

On a total sidebar:
I had the revelation today that the Biebs had yoinked Run Around Sue. I know that I should be sad, but at the same time he has earned millions for his ability to follow the earliest form of musical marketing and lack his lack of chest hair. I suppose he gets a tip of the hat from myself. (Apologies for being wicked late on this revelation too)

I've also recently discovered my exciting new laptop with its camera and editing software. Meaning: Prepare ye the way of Vlog!

...But her Face can really kill ya

Tonight was the first time I had a real "oh, hell" moment. It's completely silly, but I figured it was bound to happen. I spent my night in and kicked everyone else out and then took to some of my favorite girl things. Bleaching my hair, plucking my eyebrows, painting my toenails, eating mac and cheese (a VERY important step) all that mysterious girl stuff that makes us, well girls, or Bowie I suppose. It was at the step where I was working conditioner through my poor, crunchy, processed tresses that it dawned on me: I'm going to get to be hideous.
Not "oh she's got a great personality" or "Oh, looks aren't that important." but "Holy shit don't move because I think it senses movement and fear." and "Sweet God in Heaven, I'm sorry for everything I've ever done. Please make it go away!" ugly
Don't get me wrong, I own a ton of flannel, think chinstrap-trapper fur hats are hilarious AND fashionable and have spent many an hour making awful faces in public and private. I've played old, I've worn just bathing suits, I've played evil, and slutty but never have I been blatantly disgusting. I know it's something in my realm of possibility, shit it's going to be fun.
However, in order for it to be fun I have to be able to put my vanity on the side and try to find a balance of taking the material seriously and not taking my ownself too seriously. Which is making sense in my head and I hope I haven't lost anyone...
The material needs honesty and I need to be able to see the show through to the end without being "not enough" or "not too much". Of course as it goes for being an actor there is always more. I'm going to need to find a way to tap into my normal everyday "I don't give a fuck" mentality and try to knock out the "holy shit I'm a nervous actor...meh...people are watching me." lame inside self who takes over sometimes. That guy is such a douche.
Let's fucking do it.

Well I had no idea....

Apparently I already had a blog, apparently I was lying to myself and trying to make it about football. We all know that isn't going to work.
Today was the very first rehearsal for "Crybaby", which I am wicked stoked about. (obviously more stoked than I was for football.)
I have to admit something:
I have been a bad actor.
Not bad in the sense that I stink at acting, actually that's on the contrary as two shows that I have been involved with this year have been showing up all over the STL critics lists (which way to go Newline and Straydog, I'm super stoked to have been a part of both of your companies, Keep up the awesome work!).
I have been a bad actor because I have had my script for quite some time and I haven't read it. Also on my instant netflix queue Crybaby has been showing up in my top picks (because apparently I love Camp, music and motorcycle jackets.)  There hasn't been any reason for me to not watch it except for the good old fashioned, I have to do it so I don't wanna. Tonight after the first awesomely difficult music rehearsal I sat down in my comfy pants under a zebra print blanket  with marabou trim (mink stole would be proud) and watched away, here is what I've learned:

1) There really isn't anything hotter than Tracy Lords skanky ass in that movie.
2) What disorder does Iggy Pop have to make him so rippled, my BF is that skinny but good god damn.
3) children in my opinion never add to anything, except the two children in this, they are fucking adorable.
4) pencil skirts and leather jackets will always be the shit, It's a look I am proud to rock
5) John Waters, can I live in your kitschy basement?
6) Fuck the bunny hop, those "good" kids are the shittiest people I have ever seen.
7) I'm going to need to work my ass off to be any where near as heinous as Kim McGuire
8) What do I need to do to grow up and be Ramona Rickettes?
9) "Good" kids are terrible at chicken.
10)"Hey Mr. Jailer" is the hottest song I have EVER seen in a movie musical, ever. Like I may have to excuse myself from writing for a moment, because I'm thinking about it.

Now to get down to business of rehearsal, I am ready to make this musical my bitch.
Hand me my switchblade.