Tuesday, May 10, 2011
What a wonderful WORLD!
For now, however, Lila is entering her twelfth hour of sleep - if she weren't snoring like a lumberjack, I'd think she was dead! - so I have a few minutes to post some of my favorite pics of what has already been a terrific trip.
Wish you were here!
Friday, May 6, 2011
"I'm Gonna Go to Disney World!"
On Monday, April the 25th, something happened - something I'd assumed was as likely to happen as my being selected for the next shuttle mission to the moon, something I've been cynically anticipating since Ohio State rejected me from their doctoral program (the FIRST time!), something whose many paper-intensive drafts were probably single-handedly responsible for the slaughter of several small woodland preserves. On Monday, April the 25th, my dissertation was complete.
I haven't written about it yet, because a part of me still expects my advisor to call and say, "PSYCHE!" or "You should add a chapter on Cy Coleman" or "You know, Kristin, on second thought, the committee and I would prefer that you approach Fields's work through a semiotic lens. Let's start from scratch, shall we?"
"Um, no," I'd respectfully respond. "We shan't."
I haven't got time for any revisions, because Stultzie's got some celebrations planned. The fun begins this weekend and continues through a post graduation visit to Sea Island, which will, I found out this morning, include a sail on the vintage vessel Cloister Belle. If you thought I was excited when they announced that revival of "Damn Yankees" ...
But I digress.
Before we can celebrate Graduation Day, though, we must first celebrate Mother's Day. This year, I am especially grateful for my mother - and my father, too, for that matter. Without them, there would have been no dissertation, because there would have been no doctoral program. When I was accepted to UGA, it was without any sort of departmental funding. "I can't go," I remember telling Daddy, as I held my acceptance letter in my hand. "I just can't afford it." "You have to go," he responded. "Your mom and I will help."
As it turned out - "help" was probably a bit of a misnomer, because I'm not very sure I did all that much to carry my weight. They selflessly, generously picked up my slack, and next Friday's graduation is due in toto to the grace of God and the help of my parents.
Knowing this, I decided to dedicate my dissertation - did I mention it's finished?! - to the ones who made it happen - my cheerleaders, my patrons, my parents.
"DEDICATION
Mom, you let me watch Annie every single day. You suffered through my childhood obsessions with musicals from The Sound of Music to The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band. You never complained – at least not that I knew of – when I’d tap dance on top of the coffee table or sang every lyric to every song Cole Porter ever wrote. In so doing, you birthed in me a passion that is, next to my faith, the greatest gift you ever gave me.
Daddy, you saw the shows and then took me to see them. You bankrolled our common addiction – providing airfare, hotel rooms, and show tickets for our many theatre-going trips to New York City (or, in the case of Karen Ziemba’s tour with Chicago, Nashville). You made a way for me to meet Bill McCutcheon. You celebrated my 21st birthday by taking me to the Tony Awards, and when I got the chance to go to grad school at UGA, you and Mom generously paid my way. As a result, the passion that Mom birthed, you nurtured [cue emotional explosion into song]:
'So I say thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing!
Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who can live without it?
I ask in all honesty, what would life be? Without a song or a dance,
What are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me.'
-- from Mamma Mia!
I dedicate this dissertation to the two of you, because I am so unspeakably grateful for your dedication to me. In other words, 'thank you for the music.'"
And now?
I'M GONNA GO TO DISNEY WORLD!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
"F-U!"
Mom & Dad, now you know: THIS is what a $50,000 / year undergraduate education will get you.
Furman, I will never "forGET you..."
(Be sure you stay tuned through the end of the video, so you can catch new Furman prez Rod Smolla get his Cee Lo on)
Friday, April 22, 2011
Eat Right
No, really.
Who doesn't love Chick-fil-A? I've got a few words for you - most notably these: our friendship is OVER.
My friendship with Chick-fil-A goes back to junior high. Each weekend, my mom would drop my best friend Erin and I off at the Anderson Mall. She'd give us each $5, and with it, both of us would buy a Chick-fil-A Value Meal (back when they were in a box - remember?), the latest cassingle from Record Bar, and something absolutely "spectacular" from Everything's $1.
I still frequent Chick-fil-A. In fact, I often joke that my wages should be garnished by them and Target, and after spending a week in London, malnourished by the absolutely disgusting diets of the British (no offense), my first meal back Stateside was a Chicken Biscuit and a large tea. This is often my first meal - of the day, of a mini-break. "All great weekends begin with Chicken Biscuits" is something I believe as firmly as I hold to the inalienable truth that Cadbury Eggs should be sold year-round.I also firmly believe in the values to which Chick-fil-A is committed. That's why I'm asking my three readers (Sissy, you've joined Mom and Daddy, right?) to take part in this week's Buycott (described in the video below).
I'll see you there! After all, those biscuits don't just eat themselves.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
"Something shocking"
If you ask me, "it'd delightful. It's delicious. It's de-lovely."
And I'm not just talking about the tiny size of Sutton Foster's microscopic waistline.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Foster's "Top!"
Back before grad school, back before the Four I Adore, back before Chick-fil-A served the breakfast burritos with which I am, admittedly, obsessed - way back then, I was a theatre reviewer. Well, that's probably overstating things. I went to the theatre and wrote about what I saw, and metro-Atlanta's Gwinnett Daily Post was good enough to publish whatever drivel I had written.
You with me? Good.
So, back then, I reviewed a certain show. Many of you have probably seen this show. In fact, most of you - MOM - probably love this show, and with good reason: Les Miserables is one of the most beautiful stories of redemption ever written for the musical stage. Its entirely-sung story is fool-proof, and I think we can all agree that this lyrical libretto, dripping as it is with pathos, makes it impossible for any company - regardless their level of professionalism - to mess up.
Right?
Don't kid yourself there, Jean Valjean.
In the late 1990's, a National Company of "Les Mis" toured through Atlanta's Fox Theatre. I was there, a pen in one hand and playbill in the other, ready to write the notes on which I'd base my review.
The curtain went up, and immediately, my spirits went down. I quickly realized that this wasn't the same "Les Mis" I'd seen so many times before. Instead of heart-wrenching, this lifeless production was heart-less. In fact, if you've seen the show, you'll know how epically the production failed when I tell you that, at a certain pivotal moment in Act I, I was squirming in my seat, screaming to myself, "Fantine, go ahead and cut your friggin' hair. In fact, I think I'll just cut the loss of the time I've wasted here, file my story, and get on with my life, because girl, you and your little cast mates have killed 'The Dream I Dreamed.'"
So much for "If you can't say something nice ...," huh?
Actually, I DID say something nice about this "Les" that so dreadfully "Mis"sed the mark. Its one (and ONLY) redeeming quality was the performance of its Eponine. Brilliant, beautiful, and heart-breaking, Sutton Foster's take on "'ponine" was the one positive part of an otherwise negative review. I came home knowing that hers was a star on the rise.
At least I was right about something.
From her terrific turn in that terrible tour, Foster's gone on to a Tony Award winning performance in the title role of Thoroughly Modern Millie. Among other Broadway smashes, she's also starred in The Drowsy Chaperone ("oh, I love it so much"), and, as of last nite, she is tearing it up as Reno Sweeney in the Roundabout Theatre Company's revival of Cole Porter's Anything Goes.Ben Brantley is a theatre critic whose reviews carry exponentially more weight than mine ever did. He agrees with my assessment of Broadway's brightest light. In his New York Times review of Anything Goes, Brantley wrote:
"Who needs a brass section when you’ve got Sutton Foster? ... When she leads the show-stopping 'Blow, Gabriel, Blow,' you figure that if no horn-tooting archangel appears, it’s only because he’s afraid of the competition."And who could blame him?
Sutton Foster, you amaze me and inspire me and make me so thankful I didn't skip the second act of that miserable "Les Mis."
In other words, Girl? "You're the Top."
Monday, April 4, 2011
Picture Perfect Friends
I make no secret of the fact that I am WAY outclassed by my friends. Just to name a few of these wonderful men and women, I offer these examples: there's Mandy. Mandy, witty and wonderful and as big a fan of basketball as I am, just wrote the single most brilliant piece about Facebook that I not only HAVE ever read but that I WILL ever read. Leslie can do math in her head AND has a concealed weapons permit, and Brooke? Well, Brooke runs a photography business so booming that it prompted the Professional Photographers of America (PPA) to feature her work in the latest edition of their Professional Photographer magazine.
You should read it.
I haven't been this proud, since my nephew named his new Webkin after Rex Chapman.
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