Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

This morning I was briefly, but hilariously, possessed by the spirit of my dead mother. Before I explain, I feel compelled to say this is a post that no self-respecting person would share with world (or even the two or three people who might read this). Oh, I'm not going to admit to anything illegal or even anything that could get me in trouble at work, but just a story that makes me look very silly. But I really don't have a sense of shame (I do have an overactive sense of guilt but these are very different things) and while I feel a little guilty about this morning's hijinks, they are possibility entertaining. And I prize being entertaining above all else. So here goes. To set the stage: when I got home from work last night, there was a notice on our door from CenterPoint saying "Please call to schedule an appointment." You see, "they" (CenterPoint, the City, the aliens?) have been doing work in our neighborhood for the last month or so. I don'...

In the days following Robin Williams suicide, Facebook (and I imagine other social media outlets but I am stuck in 2010) has exploded. I don't have anything enlightening to add to the conversation/ranting, and I am in no way an expert on suicide or depression. But I would like to suggest that even a life that has such a tragic ending probably (hopefully) had moments of joy, love, and even just contentment and pleasure. After his death, Williams' widow said: "As he is remembered, it is our hope the focus will not be on Robin's death, but on the countless moment of joy and laughter he gave to millions." No doubt that he gave those moments, but let's not forget he experienced some of them, too.  Whether its a job or a relationship or a life, just because it ends in a spectacularly bad or painful way, the ending doesn't negate the reality of the good or even mundane moments that happened. And again, not to minimize the suffering of depression or any illness,...

When I was a sophomore or junior in high school, I wrote a paper about Paul McCartney titled "Pizza and Fairytales." Sadly this relic is lost in the mists of time, but I remember it as a hand-written creation encased in a big pink folder with the title boldy etched with a Sharpie (this was in the days before word processors). I also remember that the title came from a Paul McCartney quote, but I just  learned from Wikipedia that it was actually a John Lennon insult to Paul, "You're all pizza and fairytales!" (Actually doesn't sound too bad to me, depending on the pizza and fairytales, of course). The point is, I've been a Paul McCartney fan for a long time...for about 30 years. Yikes! This summer I was lucky enough to see Paul's concert at Target Field (the second time I've seen him live). Even though we were in the "cheap" seats (meaning they were very far away from Paul but not actually cheap) it was amazing. Paul had such energy, s...

A second post about line memorization. So, how do I get all those words that aren't my own into my head? Like so many things about acting (and life in general) I've been surprised by how physical the process of learning lines is. I can't just stare at the lines until I magically absorb them, even if they are highlighted in a super pretty girly color. I have to read them out loud, and say them out loud, and eventually say them out loud while I'm doing something (like walking or doing dishes or curling my hair).  One time I mentioned to my friends Wanda and Sandy that people gave me strange looks when I sat in my car in the Target parking lot "doing lines." As you can imagine, Wanda and Sandy gave me strange and somewhat pitying looks...was this a really lame cry for help? Eventually I realized that "doing lines" was an Amyism not used by the general public in the way I meant it. For me, "doing lines" meant I was sitting in my car saying ...

Chad and I are in show that we will perform in just over two weeks, (the most awesome one-act "Bird Icon" by Jim Lundy that we are bringing to Fast Fest in Cloquet) so I definitely need to be in line-memorizing mode. People often comment about how hard it would be for them to memorize lines, but I really never thought that much about it when I decided to give my community theater career a whirl. I think I blithely thought "Oh, I'm smart, I can memorize" or had a vague memory that it wasn't that hard for me to memorize lines back in the day when I was in high school. Well, who know what it was really like for me back then, perhaps I never really had all that many lines, or it was just much easier to memorize them because my brain was young and absorbent. Whatever the reasons, memorizing lines has turned out to be much harder than I ever remember it being or ever thought it was going to be. Going through a new script to highlight my lines is always exciting ...

Today Chad and I embarked on a major undertaking and went through our clothes and came up with seven garbage bags to get rid of. I'd say we went through our closets , but our (or at least my) clothes situation is so out of control that much of what I own never makes it to a closet. I consider clothes that are sitting in a laundry basket instead of on the dining room table as "put away." (In my defense, we do have very small closets, but I can only spread that defense so far). I've always loved clothes, and owned many more than I need. As with so many of my behaviors and attitudes, my approach to clothes was heavily influenced by my mother. I've always lived with her quantity over quality clothes philosophy. Simply put, I love having lots of cheap clothes. Okay, the clothes don't have to be cheap, and as I get older, I have been discovering the pleasures of clothes made with quality fabrics. But I really love shopping for clothes (now also via the internet), ...

The world doesn't need any more documentation of how amazing Neil Patrick Harris is in "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," but since Chad and I were lucky enough to see "Hedwig" recently on Broadway, (just one day before he--that is NPH, not Chad--won a Tony for his performance) I feel morally obligated to try and convey how awesome not only NPH but the whole experience was.  We saw "Hedwig" at the Belasco in New York. So I'll start with my most obvious observation first: NPH is unbelievably talented. Seeing him in person playing Hedwig was an incredible thrill. He's a true triple-threat who brought Hedwig to life with passion, humor, and sensuality. I'm especially impressed as NPH is only a couple of years younger than I am and I can't imagine giving such a physically demanding  performance night after night, sometimes two shows a day. The squats alone would kill me. Oh, and did I mention he's incredibly sexy? When he strips down...