Coupla things

Wow, what a pretty day huh?

Walking early this morning with Remo, I had such a profound sense of contentment. In the mornings my little dog is so extremely calm and sweet, he almost needs no leash at all. And the two of us aren’t owner and dog, but friends, walking on a spring morning, the sun just coming up, Remo’s nose all wet with dew and it’s really wonderful. The green seems almost surreal after this long winter, and since we weren’t in our neighborhood this time last year, it’s neat to see it become so completely different than it was in January.

Changing hands, good news! I entered a monologue writing contest for my friend Erica’s theater company, Camenae Ensemble Theater Company. I am a semi-finalist! I’m very excited. I hope they pick mine, because the finalists get to see their monologues read by a member of the company, talk about surreal! That would be so neat.

Changing hands again, the other day I was innocently scanning through my Entertainment Weekly Magazine when I came across something really disturbing:



The woman in the splits is my acting/homeroom teacher from high school. Yup. Virginia Madsen went to my high school and that woman, Suzanne Adams, was her favorite acting teacher. But for me, she was the bane of my existence. She constantly humiliated me and fellow students in the name of “method” acting. For example, one young unfortunate teen was doing her “moment of truth” where you reach back and talk about something that bothered you, scared you, or made you sad. (Keep in mind; we were 15-16 years old). Mrs. Adams didn’t think this poor unfortunate girl was feeling her moment of truth enough and made her sit on the stage while we sat in the audience and hurled insults at her. Bad ones. About how fat, ugly and stupid she was until the girl started to weep.


That may be fine for theater majors in college, but for a young girl, who wasn’t up to high school standards to begin with…I’ll just never forget it.

She also made Lyle Brown, an overweight, pimply, pale fellow, walk onstage with no shirt on, only a leather jacket covering his bulbous stomach (again, 16 years old here) and try and make out with a girl from class during a decidedly “sexual” scene. The girl shrank back, she didn’t know he was going to look like that and got a D- on her scene because she was shocked to see a half naked, chunky, 16-year-old nerd in front of her trying to make out with her.

The girl? Was me.

You look great for your age Mrs. Adams, but I think Virginia and I had wildly different experiences.

Good day!