Forward. Stop. Reverse. Forward, forward, forward.

Yesterday was like an emotional game of Simon Says. "Simon Says make long-term plans!" "Change your long-term plans!" "Wait, Simon didn't say!"

Here's where yesterday started:

In the front seat of my van, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for the 35-minute commute to my new job. In order to communicate the insanity of yesterday, I should also mention what's not pictured: me going on roughly 3 hours of sleep, attempting to deal with debilitating allergies/a possible sinus infection, and some residual back pain from a displaced rib.

But I was choosing to be positive.

Yesterday was my first day as a Special Ed Paraeducator at Dan Peterson School in American Fork. I accepted the job about a week ago--I subbed for several weeks before being offered a position as a classroom aide. The day went fairly smoothly--I filled out paperwork and spent the day in a class where I had subbed before, feeding, changing, repositioning, and working with secondary and post-secondary students.

Then in the afternoon, I got online to start my MFA homework. And learned that I was actually able to take an additional class, which would allow me to graduate an entire semester earlier than I had planned. And that I had enough financial aid to live off AND take that extra class.

I had known about the financial aid, but not about the class. And the class was the straw that broke the camel's back--it clarified for me something I already knew in my gut, but was too afraid to admit.

It just didn't make sense for me to be working almost 30 hours a week at a job I didn't necessarily need, when I could be spending that time advancing my MFA. Especially when I was already spending 20-40 hours per week working on a show. Especially when I already had a job at University of Utah, which would force me to get a sub for two or three days per month if I was working at Dan Peterson. Keeping the job at Dan Peterson meant spreading myself so thin, trying to walk towards so many mountains at once. It made the most sense to quit the job at Dan Peterson.

But what a sh*tty thing to do--quit a job on the first day. And it was an awesome job. A beautiful job. I loved the kids. I still do. Those sweet students. Working at Dan Peterson felt, for all the world, like Alianza--a group of smart and caring people doing some amazing things in the world of education. I felt welcomed and at home, and it was so rewarding to do that work, even in the moments when it was difficult.

I spent an hour or two agonizing over my decision, thinking, talking with Jacob, praying. Quitting the job at Dan Peterson made the most sense, emotionally, financially, professionally, mentally, and spiritually. But I hated to put the school in such a terrible position--without an aide, AGAIN, for who knows how long until they could hire someone else. My ego was afraid of what everyone would think--that I was flaky or unprofessional or weak-spirited or selfish or any number of things. What would the principal think? The teachers? The other aides? And my heart didn't want to leave those students, or that place of belonging.

But I had to move toward that MFA mountain.

So I called the principal and left a message, apologizing and inarticulately tendering my resignation. She called me back shortly afterwards, expressing understanding but saying she was sorry to see me go. I originally thought about trying to stay for a few extra days this week, just to keep them from needing to find a sub, but my MFA classes began already. And it's tech week. If ever I needed the time to devote to school, it's this week. So that was it. My first day at work was also my last.

After that horrible phone call with the principal (horrible only because it was so difficult), I did my homework, tried to eat some dinner, then went to tech rehearsal for Jane Eyre, where I stayed until almost midnight. (And where I also gave an abbreviated explanation of my situation to several kind people who asked how my new job was going.) And then I drove home--listening to the BBC for the 45-minute commute and eating Reeses Pieces to stay awake.

Here's where yesterday ended:

In the dark, around 1 in the morning, barely awake, physically and emotionally exhausted, sitting in the front seat of my van, trying to muster the energy to get into the house and go to bed.

I stayed in bed for as long as I possibly could this morning.

Then I drove to Dan Peterson School again, this time to fill out resignation paperwork. The staff was kind and understanding, and said they would welcome me back when I was able to work again. I thanked them for everything, then left the office. Halfway down the hallway, I glanced over my shoulder at the classrooms where I would have been working. J's class, with her sweet students, where I subbed for weeks and felt so much love and belonging. T's and K's class, where I would have been spending my days, with those students who were smart and funny and rebellious. I took a step towards those rooms at the end of the hall, wanting with my whole heart to just say goodbye, to say thank you. But I couldn't quite bring myself to do it.

A small part of me was afraid of what the teachers and aides would think--I didn't want to face their possible judgement, both for leaving and for visiting their classrooms to say goodbye. But ultimately, I didn't do it because I knew that it's very likely that I will never see those students again. I have never been good at goodbyes. I hate them, because a goodbye is never as fulfilling as knowing you'll see someone all the time. I can never say enough, or say what I mean. And in the case of some of these students, they might not have heard or understood me anyway. And it would have been selfish of me, to interrupt their school day and their routine just to attempt to satisfy my need to...I don't know, have a grand gesture of closure.

It's possible that I'll work for Dan Peterson School again someday. But I don't know when, and I don't know which students will still be there. Some of them may move. Some may graduate. And the harsh truth is that some of them may die. Dan Peterson School is a place for students with both mental disabilities, and physical disabilities. Some of them are considered "medically fragile." Some of them have DNRs. The staff regularly deal with seizures and falls. So I knew that if and when I return to the school, it won't be to this same situation, to these same students.

So I walked out to my van and drove to the library to do my homework, crying the entire time.

I know, ultimately, that this was the right decision. Working at Dan Peterson School was the right thing at the wrong time. I would have been just as heartbroken to give up additional schooling. This was a difficult choice between two very good things. I'm sad to have to give up one of them.

But I'm also so blessed. I get to do other things that I love--I get to act, onstage, and even be paid for it. I get to write and study and read and learn. I get to choose my own schedule in some ways, as I pursue my degree. I've got an incredible husband--this amazing companion, this best friend that will listen to me cry and let me talk through things when I'm in crisis. I get to spend my evenings in a theatre, surrounded by brave and kind and talented people, telling stories. And I'm healthy and well-fed and I have a working car and clothes and enough cash to make ends meet. I clung to all of these truths with so much gratitude all day yesterday, and I'm filled with them today.

So here's to grad school, to theatre, and to everything else I'm lucky enough to have.

Monday boost

Are you struggling to get this week started? Is the weight of all your responsibilities bearing down on you? Did you wake to find that you slept at a stupid angle and your displaced rib is giving you enormous amounts of pain?

I feel that.

But luckily, there's a remedy. I found one cute baby video and it led me down a rabbit hole of others. Here's some stuff to warm that cold heart of yours.


Singing baby loves you!




There's something so strangely beautiful about this.




May we all be filled with this kind of wonder at the small things in life.




If this doesn't make you smile, you have no soul.




My favorite moment is the very end, when she wonders what just happened.

Multiple Mountains, or "Having It All"

I want to publish a novel.
I want to work in education.
I want to finish my MFA in Writing.
I want to get an MFA in Theatre.
I want to act.
I want to direct.
I want to have and raise children.
I want to travel.

And I want it all now.

First of all, I should acknowledge how awesome it is that I live in a time and place that all of these things are even available to me. For so many centuries, these things wouldn't have been possibilities for a woman. And so many of them still aren't, for so many people. So it would be obnoxious for me to not acknowledge the incredible levels of privilege I have. I'm a white, lower middle-class, college-educated woman living in the United States. So much is within my reach.

My problem is that I want to reach for all of it RIGHT NOW.

Jacob and I are in an interesting time in our lives. Jacob's waiting to hear from one more grad school before making a decision. I'm in the process of getting my MFA online. I'm getting acting work fairly consistently. We've got enough income to cover our bills, and we have some to spare most of the time. We're leaving our twenties behind and entering into our thirties. Many of our friends are still unmarried undergrads, and many others have 3 or more children and are well into their careers. We've been married for almost 6 years, but we know that it's not quite the right time for us to have kids. (Even though I'm keenly aware of the expiration date on my ovaries, and it stresses me the hell out. I'm trusting our timing, though.)

A while ago, I wrote a blog entry about Neil Gaiman's philosophy of always "moving towards your mountain"--making sure that everything you do is helping you move towards what you ultimately want to be doing with your life. And I still believe in that philosophy.

My problem is that I have, like, 8 mountains. And there are times in my life when I'm feeling pulled towards all of them at once. Which ultimately leaves me feeling a little paralyzed, since I inevitably sometimes have to move away from one mountain in order to move towards another. Sometimes they're not lined up neatly.

All of this is on my mind because of A) Jacob's grad school possibilities, and B) I have a possible job opportunity that would move me towards the education mountain, but away from some of my other mountains. And the education mountain is like, 90% ideal, with the possibility of becoming 93% ideal in the future, but it's not 100% ideal, and that's giving me pause, especially if it means moving away from other mountains. AND I'll still be pursuing the MFA in Writing mountain and the Acting mountain, too, and I'm a little uncertain about my stamina.

But I want all the mountains!

I decided a few years ago to remember that I can live my life on my terms...that I shouldn't ever blame my circumstances when I'm not getting what I want out of my life. There are times when you've got to make sacrifices, or put one dream on hold in order to pursue another. I'm just trying to decide whether or not to do that, and writing it out helps me make decisions. Especially when those decisions have deadlines. So here we are. Sitting in the Orem Public Library before rehearsal, blogging about life decisions and waiting to see if anything feels more solid as I type.

Confession: At the end of this blog entry, I'm not any nearer to making a decision. But I do feel a little bit less overwhelmed about it all. I feel like my vision is a little clearer, and I have a little more confidence in my ability to make my decision.

Thanks for coming along for the ride, I guess. I'm glad you've stuck around. I'll keep you posted on which mountain(s) I'll be focusing on.



photos by Steven Taschuk, Kamil Porembiński, Alper Çuğun, E M, Drregor, gwenole camus, Arild Storaas, Thangaraj Kumaravel, Henry Hemming. VIA Flickr

Playing With Fire (And Winning)

Writing comes to me in phases. And I think it's a sort of feedback loop, too...the more I write, the more I want to write, and the more I want to write, the more I write, etc. And I just haven't been writing as much, so this blog has been quiet. But I'm aiming to change that.

(Although I don't know why I'm blogging right now. I'm having one of those times when my brain is struggling with sentences. This happens to me now and then, when I'm very tired. I just can't quite get English to work right. But f*** it, Ima publish this anyway.)

Anyway, I'm playing Bertha in "Jane Eyre" at HCTO (among other roles), and it's hard. And awesome. And hard. Only because it's hard to go to that crazy place. It's kinda scary. (For those unfamiliar with the story of Jane Eyre, Bertha is mentally insane.)

When I'm in my deepest phases of anxiety, one of my biggest fears is that I'll go crazy. In my early twenties, during the very worst times of panic attacks, I sometimes wished I would go crazy, just to escape my fear of it. I figured that if I was completely out of touch with reality, nothing could scare me. Years ago, during one of my worst anxiety episodes, I read a short story called "The Yellow Wallpaper" for a class, and it messed me up for YEARS. Now that I'm in a better place emotionally, I can appreciate the story for its literary merits, although it still sends shivers up my spine. I re-read it in preparation for playing Bertha. (I also sent a copy to my double, who was equal parts disturbed and appreciative.)

The awesome news is that the wig I'll be wearing is EXACTLY, PERFECTLY what I had envisioned. It's long and black and sort of tangly and big. It's perfect. After getting the wig, I've started wearing a long scarf in rehearsal as a sort of "stand in wig"...something to play with in character. Man, I'm excited to show you guys. Seeing myself in that wig made me feel way more connected to Bertha than I had been, but I was still a little scared.

Then, this week, we blocked a scene with Bertha in it. And it's the last scene we've blocked with Bertha in it. And I feel like I FOUND Bertha in that scene. I felt better about my work in that scene than I did in any of the others, even though in that scene I was the CRAZIEST. Violent and out of touch and sad.

And I think it's because I just allowed myself to just go there. To just go for it, without worrying about what other people will think, or even what I thought. It was sort of the equivalent of jumping into the water when you know it's freezing. You just gotta do it. You just gotta rip off the band-aid. I didn't give myself time to think or be scared. And it was a BLAST. I loved rehearsing that scene. I can't wait to do it again.

Now, of course, I'm trying to figure out how to bring THAT Bertha into the other scenes. There's one in particular that I'm struggling with--partly because I'm having trouble with the direction I've been given...I'm just not able to motivate it very well. I think I can make it work; I just have to sit down with the underscoring and figure it out.

It was a cool little acting lesson for me. Here's what I learned: I was scared to go to that crazy place because it's a place that I'm afraid actually resides in me. And I felt sure that if I reveal it, everyone would quietly turn around and abandon me, because who could ever love someone with something so scary and dark and mad within them? But for all my preaching about the empowering nature of vulnerability, I wasn't very good at it. I saw during that one rehearsal how safe the world of theatre actually can be. I faced that demon and it shrunk. I'm still kinda scared...I think I always will be. Both of being judged (either for the dark craziness or for the crappy acting), and of not being able to get out of that crazy space.

But I proved to myself this week that A) no one is judging me nearly as harshly as I think they are, and B) I can go to that crazy space and totally come back out again. Not only that, but it's THRILLING to do so. And bizarrely, a lot of fun. There's something liberating in just pacing like an animal and trying to scratch faces and being dragged away to a chair with shackles. Man, I love acting.

So go for it, you guys. My fellow actors, just commit. It might be way more fun than you realized.

Three books, two bags, one me

Jacob and I just got back from a whirlwind trip to New York City, and I'm going to write about it.

So, both Jacob and my brother-in-law Dave made it to final callbacks at The New School. And I was free, so I decided to tag along and splurge on a few shows while I was there. We took the red-eye on Friday night, arriving Saturday morning, and then left again on Monday. So it was a SUPER SHORT trip, but we managed to pack some good times in there.

WHAT DIDN'T HAPPEN DURING OUR TRIP TO NEW YORK: 

1. Winning the lottery for Hamilton, even though we entered like, 3 times.
2. Running into Daniel Radcliffe and becoming friends with him, in a platonic "meet-cute" sort of situation. (Before we left Utah, I told Jacob that I had a daydream about this, and he replied, "You've had that daydream every time we've gone to New York." Which is true.)
3. Me opening Snapchat and singing "History is happenin' in Manhattan and we just happen to be in the greatest city in the world!" while wandering Manhattan. Even though I was tempted. Like, every 15 seconds that I was in Manhattan.

WHAT DID HAPPEN DURING OUR TRIP TO NEW YORK: 

Here it is in verbal form.

1. Jacob and I stayed with our friends, Sean and Danielle, whom we know from Rexburg. They recently moved to New York and we spent hours picking Danielle's brain about the acting work she's been doing.
2. Danielle and I got catcalled by a guy in a bagel costume. The catcalling thing would usually annoy me, but the addition of the bagel costume made the entire thing so ridiculous that I had to just laugh at it.
3. We were also able to run around with friends Omar (who was there doing acting career research) and Jeff (who lives there). Good times were had in the Drama Bookshop and Shake Shack.
4. Jacob and Dave did callbacks, which culminated in a  24-hour play festival, which I got to watch.
5. Saw an SLC friend Ben's one-man show, "The BYU/Berkley Plot."
6. Saw two Broadway shows, which I'll devote separate paragraphs to.
7. Wandered the Met by myself for a few hours.
8. Had this bizarre encounter while waiting in line for a play...

People behind me in line: "I think that show's closed. It's in Salt Lake now. Is it? I can't remember."
Me: "It is. I'm from Salt Lake."
People behind me in line: "No kidding! We are too!"
Me: "No way!"
People behind me in line: "So where in Salt Lake do you live?"
Me: "In South Salt Lake, near --- South and --- East. How about you?"
People behind me in line: "Whoa. We live at [names an address roughly two blocks away from our apartment]."

Of the 9 million people in New York City, we bumped into each other. The universe is bizarre, man.



And if you don't follow me on snapchat (@lizannechapman), here's the trip in snapchat story form.



And here's a brief, geeky drama kid earful about the two Broadway shows I got to see.

THE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT-TIME

I just re-read this book for my YA Lit class, so I was especially excited to see it adapted for the stage. And boy, was it adapted for the stage. The National Theatre just knows how to utilize THEATRE to tell a story. There are things you can do in theatre that you can't do in any other medium. And you guys. The sound design. The set design. The costumes. The concepts. THEATRE IS SO FRICKIN' MAGICAL. The show won Tony's this past year for Best Play, Best Direction, and Best Lighting Design, Best Scenic Design. It was nominated for Choreography, even though it wasn't a musical. Alex Sharp won Best Actor for his portrayal of Christopher. I saw his replacement, Tyler Lea, who was perfect and sympathetic and charming and wonderful and honest. I was so impressed by his work. 

Here are two clips, showing some highlights of the show. There aren't any good (legal) clips of specific scenes, just because the nature of the adaptation doesn't really separate the plot into tidy "scenes." Things transition pretty quickly. But these still give a good glimpse of the show.

SOMETHING ROTTEN

I was debating between seeing Fun Home and Something Rotten for my last show. But I finally decided that Curious Incident was a thought-provoking, moving piece of theatre, and that I should end my trip with a "big and shiny, mighty fine-y, glitter-glitz-and-chorus-line-y, bob-your-head-and-shake-your-hiney musical." So "Something Rotten" it was. And it was perfect.

First of all, Christian Borle. You know, the guy who won a Tony for playing Shakespeare in "Something Rotten"? Who won another Tony for the role of Black Stache in "Peter and the Starcatcher"? Who played various roles in the original cast of "Spamalot," including the Historian and Prince Herbert?

Yeah, him.

I got to see him. And he was totally deserving of that Tony Award.

The show was funny and dazzling and charming. There weren't any deep, dramatic messages, but there was joy and talent, and it gave me a song to sing for when I'm blue.

Here are a handful of clips from "Something Rotten." There are a few more of these, just because the show lends itself better to performances of certain numbers.

"It's Hard to Be the Bard" at the White House


"A Musical" at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade


Mashup of "God I Hate Shakespeare" and "Will Power" from The Today Show



Jacob and I have no idea if New York is in our near future. He went to grad school auditions at several different schools around the country, and who knows what the results will be. And it could be that we decide to just stick around Salt Lake for a while after all.

But I left New York filled with the reminder that no matter where my life and career take me, I'll always always always adore theatre. My heart is just there, and I can't imagine that I'll ever be truly at home anywhere else. I belong to the theatre, undeniably and unavoidably. It was good for my soul to remember that.

Before I blog about NYC...

I wanted to announce that I now have a Patreon page!

If you've never heard of Patreon, it's awesome. It's the best way for artists, writers, filmmakers, etc to make money with their work. Patreon is a pledge system..."patreons" (or patrons) find work that sounds interesting to them, and pledge so much per month or per work. Artists get to avoid working with advertisers, and patrons support art directly, and it's awesome. And usually, as a thank you, artists give special rewards/benefits to Patreon supporters.

So if you'd like to get an exclusive blog entry from me once per month, feel free to pledge! Click on the button on the right, or here.

Thanks!

(And I really am gonna blog about NYC. Stay tuned.)

Dear Diary

Well, it's been a while since I last wrote. I was gonna blog about Donald Drumpf at some point, but what more can I say than what has already been said? Thanks, John Oliver. I'm too tired to write at length about politics. I'm writing at length about writing, nowadays.

My MFA is going well. I kind of wish I had taken 3 classes instead of 2...I'll probably do that after these semesters are done. I'm taking poetry and screenwriting next semester--woo hoo!

I recently blogged about all the awesome stuff I have to look forward to. I've accomplished a few of them, and added a few more items. Disneyland was AMAZING. We rode Indiana Jones as a family 3 times, and all 3 times, Beckah got to be the driver. (Which meant that I spent most of the ride yelling at her to find the lights, step on the gas, and "get us outta here!" Apologies to our fellow riders, who didn't realize they were getting drama kids in their group.)We also introduced Beckah to Space Mountain, which she'd never been on. At the end of the ride, we all turned around to ask her what she thought, and she just looked at us and unsmilingly shook her head. Happy birthday, Beckah! Other highlights included watching a fireworks show from Main Street, almost crying on the Peter Pan ride, and, according to my FitBit, walking 57,342 steps in two days. (Daily average is about 8,000.)

(In line for Indiana Jones. Beckah and I have never looked more like sisters in a picture than we do in this picture. Even though all of us look kind of like cartoons.)

The trip to Rexburg last weekend was lovely, and I was reminded (again) of how lucky I am to have such amazing in-laws. Think of the best cast you've ever been in, or the best improv team you've been part of, or your best group of friends. Now realize that those people will be your actual family. FOREVER. It's so awesome.

In stuff added to the list of Things To Look Forward To, I don't start rehearsals for Cabaret until June, and I noticed that the Hale Orem was doing Jane Eyre, which closes June 4th, so I auditioned last-minute, and GOT CAST. I get to play THREE roles: mean ole schoolmarm Miss Scatcherd, the aristocratic Mrs. Dent, AND crazy, locked up Bertha Mason. I'm most excited about playing Bertha. And I get to be double cast with Lauren Hughes, one of my favorite fellow actresses.

I don't know what cast I'm in yet, but the show runs April 24th - June 4th! Details to follow. There are some familiar faces in the cast--folks I worked with during Damn Yankees and/or Oklahoma, and I'm excited to get to know them better, and to make new friends as well.

Of course, I don't know the music from this show AT ALL. And I was reminded last night at rehearsal that I suck at sight-reading. I spent twenty minutes tonight trying to plunk out notes on our keyboard. Why are the alto parts of awesome-sounding chords so HARD?

Also, I've been keeping this hush-hush for a while, but Jacob and I have been writing for a Late Nite type show exclusively on youtube, and we're filming the first episodes this Saturday! Well, they are. Jacob and I will be in New York. But our jokes will be spoken. The show is called That Late Show (with Cassidy Hilton) and the guests are all social media stars and it's gonna be awesome. We had a final planning/writing meeting tonight, and man, these people all know what they're doing. They're great comedians and storytellers and entertainers, and I'm just excited to be part of something like this. I'll post links to new episodes when they're uploaded! Aaaaaand if you're in the Salt Lake Area this weekend, go be part of the studio audience! There will be pizza, shirts, hilarity, and other feelings. Check out the Facebook event here.

Oh! And I've been snap-chatting a lot lately. I recently re-downloaded snapchat, and this time around, I'm a huge fan. My stories usually include cute snaps of my nephew, me rapping Hamilton, thoughts from my car about auditions, and other stuff that's interesting enough to share, but not interesting enough to share on Instagram. I hella snapped Disneyland, too, and I'll probably do the same with New York this weekend. Feel free to follow! Username lizannechapman.

Welp. Jacob and I are leaving for New York on a red-eye in less than 24 hours, and I'm starving, and my Kindle is calling my name, and the spot between Jacob's shoulder and jaw is missing my head. (I think that last part was romantic, but I'm not quite sure--it doesn't quite ring the way I wanted it to...the point is I want to cuddle?)

Sleep well, my dearies.

Things to Look Forward To

Hey, guess what? It's almost spring! I can feel it. I know we've still got a few weeks of cold left, but March is barreling towards us, and I await her with open arms. But aside from spring, there are a handful of things that are making life exciting right now. It's especially nice to have all of these sunny things to look forward to after the post-show doldrums of Beau Jest ending. Here's what's on the docket for the next few months:

In a few hours, I'm getting on a plane to meet my sister and her girlfriend, and my mom and stepdad in southern California. We'll spend two days running around Disneyland, and I can't wait. My sister and I have been texting each other countdowns to this day for the last month and a half.

Then, the following weekend, Jacob and I and a few friends will be heading up to Rexburg to see our incredibly talented friends and family perform in BYU-Idaho's production of Antigone. It's been an awesome experience for those involved, and I'm excited to see the final product. Oh, and that weekend, we also get to watch the Oscars. And you know how much I love the Oscars.

And THEN, the weekend after THAT, Jacob and I are going to New York City for a whirlwind weekend. Jacob made it to final callbacks for The New School (did I mention he's auditioning for grad schools?), and even though we're not sure how we could afford moving to New York, it seems foolish to throw away this chance, so he's going. And since I was free, I decided to go with him. I'm planning on spending every day trying to see shows (lottery for Hamilton--I wanna be in the room where it happens), and possibly wandering the Met, while Jacob auditions.

Sometime in the spring, I'll be going to Germany to visit Dad and Mary. I had a big Europe tour planned, but I don't think the timing is right. I may try to make a weekend trip to Paris, but my epic two-week excursion will have to wait.

And when I return from Germany, it will be time (appropriately enough) to begin rehearsals for Cabaret. I just got cast in Utah Repertory Theatre's upcoming production. I'll be playing Frenchie, one of the Kit Kat Club performers. I haven't played such a dance heavy role in about ten years, and I'm still sore from call-backs on Sunday. But I've got until June to get my rear in gear, and I'm THRILLED to be doing this show. I'll be reuniting with some old friends, and I'm excited to work with some new ones. The show runs from mid-August to early September, if ya wanna come! (Although, fair warning, this is not a Hale-Theatre-Family-Style-Entertainment show. But more details on why I decided to do this show anyway forthcoming.)

What are you looking forward to nowadays?

photo via

Y'all make me giggle

It's been so long since I've done a quote book post! Some of these are over a year old now. I love being surrounded by funny people. Enjoy!

"No matter how many times I hear Elder Christofferson talk, it always takes me a split second to remember that he's NOT Alex Trebek." -- Amanda

Liz: I totally stole that joke from an Anne Sexton poem.
Marshall: Well, if it makes you feel any better, I stole my joke from "Veggie Tales."

"Dude, I love you, but you'd be one f***ed up children's book writer." -- Anonymous high school student in an English class I subbed for

Liz: I told my sister that they did the show "Big River" in Orem, and she as like, "Where did you get black people to do that show?"
Brooklyn: They're called Polynesians.

Roughly two full hours after getting home:
"Speaking of food, that reminds me! I have a burger in my backpack!" -- Jacob

Marshall: I tried being sexy once.
Liz: How'd that go?
Marshall: I hurt my hand.

Riley: This is a dark room.
Murphy: Your butt's a dark room! (long pause) I'm sorry. That was really weird.

"It's hard to go poop when my dress is so FLUFFY!" -- Anonymous little girl, overheard in a public restroom

"I wrote a little Christmas poem, once. About a mouse. Named Andrew." -- Anonymous

"I went to jail once for peeing in an alley. It was my birthday!" -- Overheard on SLC bus

"It's a little cheese-filled egg swaddle!" -- Jacob, commenting on my omelette

Jacob: How's The Mystique?
Brandt: Well, as its name suggests--
Kieffer: It's a brothel.

"It's just nice seeing British men saying things to each other." -- Jacob, on the film "The Imitation Game"

"This is a good-looking dog. If he was a human, he could be in a liquor commercial." -- Anonymous

"Quick! Push your scratchers into my back!!!" -- Jacob's desperate request for a back-scratch

Adam: Which Wednesday?
Riley: The September Wednesday!

"Why was he fired? Was it the combat boots?" -- Ashley

Liz: All of my worst injuries are from theatre.
Riley: All of my worst injuries are from shaving my legs.

"It's a bitch, but, you know...nature." -- Marshall

"I wasn't really tired, so I was hoping that if I read for a while, it would sleep me down a little bit." -- Jacob

"Shut up! Shut up and look at these tiny leggings!" -- Beckah

"I tried to make a Pope hat but I accidentally made a penis." -- Ben A

"I shouldn't have done that. But it's milk under the water bridge." -- Jacob

"My boobs are lighthouses. They're like beacons of hope." -- Ashley

"I figure learning to golf is preparation. Like...I'm gonna be old someday." -- Carson

Me: What are you gonna be for Halloween?
10-year-old: I don't know yet. Maybe a guy riding a turkey?

Liz: Your boyfriends? Plural?
Isha: Yes. The Church has selectively called me to beta test polygamy.

Bryan: Hitler's kids could be anybody, if they changed their name.
Liz: It could be like Shia LeBeouf or something.
Ben P: I had such high hopes for him.
Bryan: Who? Hitler?
Ben P: No. Shia LeBeouf.

"Yes! I got this! I was the primary chorister, bitches!" -- Ben A

Bryan: I respect you, Eric.
Eric: Thank you, Bryan. You're the only one I don't care about.

Jacob: Lemme just spitball this idea with you.
Liz: Spitball?
Jacob: Brain freeze...brain stem...
Liz: Brainstorm?
Jacob: Yeah, brainstorm.

Eric: Make that moment come after the [makes crazy noise].
Liz: Um. How do you spell that?
Bryan: H. h. h. h. h. h...h.

"Carpet just...makes me sad." -- Jacob

"Wait, that's your car, right? Good. I didn't want to hump someone else's car." -- Kieffer

Liz: Whoa. You made that joke so fast.
Jacob: I'm the impala of comedy.

"I've asked Brother ____ to share his experience, and I've given him permission to use one swear word." -- Bishop

"I like falling, but I don't like landing." -- Bryan

Andy: So I see this trash can lid flying through the air--
Liz: Wait. Why was it flying through the air?
Andy: Because I threw it.

"This album sounds like a late night with some whiskey and some light hallucinogens." -- Dave

Liz: Look at the moon right now!
Bryan: It's super spooky! It's all orange and stuff, like a bowlful of bloody cheese.

photo via

I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you

It’s Tuesday, and Beau Jest has been closed for three days. I gave myself Sunday and Monday to mourn, and today is the day I’ve given myself to officially say goodbye to the show. I’ll be ready to move on after today.

Monday was difficult. I knew exactly where my phone and keys were at all times, and it was the worst. When I said or did something funny, the room was mostly silent, and I felt the absence of 600 people’s joy. There was a thrill that was missing from every moment. I stayed in bed until noon.

I think the thing that will stand out in my memories of this show is the playfulness that infused us. We exchanged stories at the cast party. “We didn’t really have many things go wrong,” the THS cast said. I looked at Bryan. “I think we had something happen every single night,” I replied. Bryan breaking the remote, over and over again, and the final night that he caught it mid-air, and stood looking in astonishment at it in his hand. (“I’m sorry…I’m just really impressed that I caught that.” The audience applauded his sportsmanship while I smiled at him, open-mouthed in amazement.) The night Ben and Bryan missed their high five, TWICE, and I sat at the desk and laughed, trying to hide my face. The beautiful, beautiful night when the door-frame broke, and Ben embracing the comedy of it so perfectly, and Betsy and I standing hand in hand, trying to get it together enough to say our lines. I brushed up against that column of light every single night.

After months of rehearsing and performing, the set became comfortable in the way your own apartment does. I will miss the blue couch, it’s velvet brightness and the way I felt comfortable and safe in it. I’d lay on it in Act Two, facing the ceiling and hearing Joel psychoanalyzing, and sit up blinded from the stage lights to look at Bob and say out loud that I wanted to be with him. The yellow ottoman, with its one faint black stain on the side, became “my spot” during rehearsal. At the end of each performance, I could barely stay balanced as I turned and bowed while standing on it. My feet have memorized the distance between the phone and the desk, the couch and the bedroom door, the sideboard and the table.

“Take My Breath Away” and “Don’t You Forget About Me” will forever be Beau Jest songs. And “Careless Whisper.” Always “Careless Whisper.” On closing weekend, Jacob was in New York, and he told me later that he walked out of his hotel to a man playing the saxophone on the street, wailing “Careless Whisper” with all of the enthusiasm of Chris in his turtleneck. He gave him $5, because “he f***ing earned it, man.” I like to think that at the exact same moment, the song was playing in the Hale Centre Theatre in West Valley, Utah…a cosmic connection. At the end of intermission, Bryan and I would stand backstage, ready to walk out in the black out, dancing to the Post-Modern Jukebox cover. Some nights Bryan would make up wildly inappropriate lyrics of his own. I would laugh while trying to get the left-over challah out of my teeth, knowing we were about to kiss a half a dozen times and not wanting to have bread in my teeth for it.

I was so nervous about the stage kisses before rehearsals started. But I’ve been baptized by all kinds of fire, and feel more capable as an actress having added the experience to my resume. I spent most of my life believing I wasn’t pretty enough to ever be a “leading lady.” I've come to see my own beauty over the years, but I've never thought of it as "leading lady beauty," and I spent the first few weeks of Beau Jest rehearsals believing that I was cast because I was funny, and that they just chose to live without the pretty. It was astonishing to realize, slowly and gradually, that others saw the pretty, too. I have never felt more beautiful during a show than I did during Beau Jest.

The dressing rooms were emptier during this show than “Oklahoma,” but it didn’t feel that way. Betsy and I would exchange stories while music rang out from my phone, and Ben and Bryan would come stand in the doorway, chatting while we got into makeup. Jerry would join long enough to make a “dad joke,” and Todd would poke his head in to say hello.

I think of everyone’s eyes, the way I learned to read them over the weeks. Their kindness as they asked about my dad, the warmth of their arms around me, the smooth tenderness of their hands as we stood in a close circle every night before the show. I remember the night of the Paris attacks, believing that laughter is the best way to fight terror. I remember nights when my ears and toes were icy with cold, while some of us stood in the parking lot under the stars, talking while the freezing air gathered in clouds around us. I started calling these times “Parking Lot Talks,” and I will miss them as much as I will miss standing in Sarah Goldman’s living room, trying to let her be brave enough to tell the truth.

On that last Saturday, I lingered at the theatre for hours, not wanting to go home, not wanting it to end. We all kept saying, “Let’s do another show together soon,” and I nodded. “Yes please!” I kept replying. I felt the question mark of the next few months loom over me for the first few days after leaving the theatre. But it’s faded into an exclamation point, my heart bursting with gratitude. That last night, as I teetered on the ottoman and bowing my head to 600 people, I thought suddenly, “I can’t believe I got to do this. Someone saw that I could do this.” And it was both a sensation of melting into disbelief, and flying straight upwards in celebration. It was the perfect gift, that moment. This show.

Current obsessions

Grad school has begun, and the Hale has added a few matinees of Beau Jest, so suddenly I find myself with fewer hours per week than I'm used to. But that's okay. I'm moving towards that mountain. And there are a few things making that climb awesome. Here are some of the things I've been digging lately:

The X-Files
I already talked a little about my love for the X-Files, but my love has deepened enough that I recently bought a "I Want to Believe" sticker to put on my laptop. There are so many mysteries! Who is Cancer Man? How much does Alex Krycek know? Will Mulder's sister ever be found? I'm only on the beginning of season 4, though, so no spoilers.

Hamilton
People have been telling me about Hamilton for months, and I haven't believed them. A musical about founding father Alexander Hamilton? A RAP/HIP HOP musical about Alexander Hamilton?! There's no way it could work. But it does. It does so much. I finally bought the soundtrack after a long discussion in the greenroom at the Hale, and I've been listening to almost nothing else for the last week. How is it so good!? It's so good.

The Oscars
I love the Oscars deeply. I often hear people criticize the Oscars, saying it's all pageantry. But I really believe it's more than that. Sure, there's an element of pageantry. But I think everyone involved in the Oscars knows that the pageantry is kind of a game. Of course the red carpet isn't real life. At its heart, the Academy Awards are a celebration of film and filmmaking. It's a recognition of the extraordinary work being done in the industry. It's actors and directors and designers coming together to celebrate the beauty of the work they get to do, and the way that it can change lives. That's beautiful to me, and I look forward to watching it every year.
Notably, I don't have cable, and the Oscars are not easy to find live online. I have been invited to "Oscar parties" on multiple occasions, and I always hate them. Because so far, no one I've met loves the Oscars as much as I do, and when I watch the Oscars with other people, they talk and occasionally heckle and are generally disrespectful of the sacred nature of the Oscar viewing experience. So please, take no offense if I decline an invitation to your Oscar party. I love you, but I'm probably going to rent a hotel room on that Sunday night and eat chocolate and watch the Oscars in my underwear, reverently and joyfully.

Beau Jest
This blog has been an endless stream of Beau Jestery for the last few months, but I just can't believe I get to do this for a whole month. With these amazing people! With this amazing script! At this amazing theatre! (With this amazing wig!) Almost every night, there's at least one golden moment onstage, one of those moments when you're bumping up against that column of light, or standing right in it. And it's this gift, and my heart is going to burst with the thank you's I'm carrying.



Grad School
I haven't been a student for 4 years, and it's sort of surreal to try to become one again. In the back of my mind, I feel vaguely like I'm just pretending--I'm not really a grad student. But my Blackboard account would say otherwise. I've done some amazing reading lately (Jo Ann Beard's "The Fourth State of Matter"?! PHENOMENAL), and I'm excited for this degree.







What are you digging nowadays?