A Little Break For a PSA

I know I like to be snarky and sassy in my blog posts, but I'm going to take a break for a hot sec.  When I was 12 or 13 I realized I was gay.  Alone.  An internal thought when drying myself after showering.  And my first instinct was, "Oh Christ.   If I'm gay I might just have to commit suicide.  I can't even imagine a life if I were a lesbian."  It took me so long to say the words "I'm gay" and then to start from scratch in life.  Now that I am successful (in mind and spirit) and very happily married to my wife I want to post this video of a friend of ours.  Kyle is my wife's best friend since they were young and his, now fiancé, Tommy is a very good friend and a talented performer- he sang at our wedding. This is a video of Kyle's proposal.  Without grandstanding.  Without preaching.  Without prejudice.  I give you love.

 

And now back to our regularly scheduled programing.

My Feelings and Guidelines on This the Day of the Tonys in GIFs

Tony Sunday. It's like the gay super bowl except that Tight End is a compliment and a Hail Mary is greeting.

1. NPH should host all of the things.

2. Chenoweth should be there.  Be adorable.  And sing a showtune. #nocountry



3. No one is allowed to talk while "Once" performs.




4. There is no judgment on how much booze you consume or how many greasy, cheese based apps you eat whilst watching the Tonys.




5. If Sara Ramirez makes an appearance I may scream like I was on the episode of Oprah's Favorite Things.



6. If they let some unprofessional backstage newbie run the mics again this year all of my stage management friends will be like...



7. Let all the casts come together and sing like they did 3 years ago to Hair's "Let the Sun Shine"



and that's how you do the Tonys...

I'm An Idiot

I think, if you've been following my blog, you may have come to discover that I am, in short terms, an idiot.  Now I'm not bashing my intelligence as I work in software marketing and have the ability to logically analyze problems and convey a resolution to people that build computers down to the level of competency that allows you to open a jar.  I'm saying, that I have a habit of creating awkward situations... I also mentally giggle when I write analyze and I'm sure the rest of your 13 year olds out there do the same.  It also doesn't help that my hearing is going.  My wife has to repeat herself so many times that we may start to communicate in a series of clicks and hand gestures.  With this lovely attribute about myself combined with "Kate Luck" (see http://itsallpowertoolsandshowtunes.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-called-kate-luck.html) I present a play in 1 act entitled "Awksauce".

I recently went to get my hair cut in a hole-in-the-wall salon in Dorchester.  <High fives all around that I didn't get shot>.  I walked in and the woman behind the desk greeted me and asked me how she could help me.  I said I needed a hair cut and she started showing me back to the chairs.

...so far normal right?...

The woman made polite chitchat as we walked and then when she turned and said, "##### your ## la ### name, dear?".  I swear I heard what is your last name.  I quickly responded, "Curtis".  She paused, looked me up and down and replied, "Well... that's different and lovely...".  I paused and gave her an odd look.  Curtis is different and lovely?

5 minutes had passed and she turned to get my attention from across the room and said, "Curtis, come back so I can wash your hair."  It was then that I realized I am a deaf asshat.  A normal person would just correct her, make light of the situation and move on.  Not me.  That did not pop up in my mind as a rational option.  I then hung onto this story tighter than Bieber hangs onto his man bangs.

I created a whole story of how Curtis is a family name of a great grandfather who came to the US with a ticket he won in a card game (I may have watched Titanic lately).  The trials and tribulations of growing up a girl with a boy name including a certain altercation that happened on a playground with a kid that got me sent to detention.  Discussions of how employers can be sexist as they assume Curtis should be a boy.  Why I won't just change my name to something more feminine like Kate.  And finally how funny it would be if I married someone with the last name Curtis.

When we were done I went to an ATM to get cash to pay so she wouldn't look at my credit card name. Now, I could look back at this and think... you're an idiot.  Or I could look back at this and imagine that that hairstylist went home that day with this great conversation in her mind and decide that her next born female should be named Curtis as she will grow up to be this amazing person in her chair...

Mental note: When I strike it rich I'm starting a trust for all girls in the Dorchester born after May 21, 2012 named Curtis and in the memo of the check I'll write, "I'm an idiot: don't watch Titanic".

Everything You Wanted To Know About Preparing for End of Times, but Didn't Give a Crap

Let me preface this with the statement that I LOVE my mother-in-law.  She's petite, she's sassy, she's generous, she proudly sports the box o' wine and she put in 50% to make my wife (I'm not actually sure that is how genetics works, but I'm Catholic so you should just be proud I actually know how babies are made and that they are not delivered like Dominoes pizza).  My mother-in-law also believes in and plans for End of Times.

She has stockpiled canned goods, water, batteries and a generator.  She had bottles and bottles of wine (no one said End of Times has to be completely sad).  We were legit at a grocery store and she saw a 10lb bag of rice and she stopped and contemplated buying it.  There are other suplies hidden in secret places that I won't divulge in as this is the interwebs, but let's just make a mental note that these exist.

This had me thinking, "Kate?  What would you pack for End of Times?".  Before answering myself, I complimented myself on how great my hair was looking today and asked if I had lost a few pounds (even though I KNEW I hadn't, it's just polite).

Kate's List of Needs for End of Times:
1. iPad, MacBook Pro, iPhone.  Yes I know internet won't exist, but I have 3 separate games of Bejeweled going on in each device and I would be really pissed if I didn't end all things without a high score.  I have the whole season of West Wing and if a generation rises from the the destruction I will label The West Wing as documentary history of our government and they will build their nation upon its teachings... a kind of Sorkin 10 Commandments if you will.  Everyone will also be fit from all the walk & talks. Also, this will probably be the only time I could read Shades of Grey without looking like a tool.

2. Nutella, Coke Zero, Cheese Puffs and Box o' Wine.  I guarantee that even without me hoarding these items they will all survive End of Times along with Twinkies, cockroaches and Mick Jagger.

3. My bike.  I'm a horrible walker.  I fall over a lot.

4. Monopoly.  Maybe, with nothing else going on in the world, someone might actually finish the game without throwing the bank at the person that just sent you directly to jail again and screaming a stream of obscenities that rival Chris Rock.

5. Batman.  For those of you who don't know Batman, he is one of our cats.  He is the Jabba the Hut of cats, yet is extremely stealth.  He can hold down a couch like none other body of mass and yet manages to pick locks into your bedroom at night (after 2 hours of body slamming the door) to sit on your head and knock every piece of matter made of glass off a surface just to tell you he's hungry (artist rendering below).  But I feel, in a matter of safety, Batman would step up to the plate and protect us.  Or just step up to the plate because it has food on it.

So when it appears that End of Times is coming (4 Horsemen, banks crashing, the Red Line functioning at perfect service) look to the highest mountain top as I will be there, like Moses, hoisting my iPad to the sky beaming an image of Sara Ramirez blasting the soundtrack from Wicked that will lead you to safety... in Bristol, CT.

If I Delivered Your Commencement Address

Dear Class of 2012,

As we gather here today on this great lawn/auditorium/cafetorium/function hall/Elks Lodge, I look at a sea of people I could have babysat.  I mean Jesus.  My version of "illegally downloading music" is when you used to hold a tape recorder up to your stereo at the ready incase Z104 played that Envogue song which you would inevitably miss the first 15 seconds of and/or someone would come in the room and start talking thus messing up your track.  Did you know Oregon Trail wasn't always an app on Facebook?  We had to ford the river with our scurvy or dysentery.  Also I never understood why you could only carry back 100 lbs of meat.  Why not get one of those lazy ass kids of yours to help?

You will leave these hallowed halls/overflow trailers/internet classrooms with hopes of landing your dream job.  Look, I'm gonna be straight with you. 1% of you will actually hold a job that relates to your major.  The rest of you will become administrative assistants.  I'm looking at you theater/communication grads.  Don't go weeping into your PBR.  You'll get to where you're supposed to be, but honestly, it's going to take a while.  Much like Freshman year of college you will face times of being the new kid, finding your class, now meeting, goof off buddy and you will gain weight.  I swear it's like life knows you crossed over some predetermined age where you're not allowed to be a cute collegiate anymore and life is determined to not let you rock cut off shorts and sorority baby Ts (just dated myself).  You will follow ANY end of the day, once class now meeting, with beers.  You will still have roommate's, but Sallie Mae will not be picking up the heating bill so go buy as many collegiate sweatshirts as you can before your student ID discount expires because that will now be your heating source.

Group projects don't go away with graduation.  You will still have "group projects" in the real world, but now you just look like a real d-bag when you run like a 4 year old to your boss because Erwin from accounting won't stop playing CafeWorld long enough to do his Power Point slide.  Take that amazing talent and morph it into a manipulative skill that sets Erwin up.  I had friends in middle school that were so good at this they researched rival student's science fair project topics for RIDICULOUSLY complicated questions to ask in front of judges and teachers just to see them squirm.  Vindictive?  Yes.  But honestly we would have all rather been playing Bejewled... or Oregon Trail.  And most of them are in politics now so...

Abbrevs.  Stop.  Nothing makes you look like more of an asshat than sending this in an email, "We totes had that account.  Obvi, IMHO, Erwin messed it up.  WTF Erwin?!  Evry1 else, KUTGW.  TTYL143." *Note: I had to google half of these.

Foods you should stop eating now: Hot Pockets, anything in a wrap stuffed with items from more than 3 of the major food groups, anything from a vending machine/quickie-mart/street vendor.  Your late 20's gastro-intestine will thank you.

If you are hipster I would like you to line up on the right side of the stage.  We will be confiscating your "retro" glasses with no lenses, anything flannel (that died with Cobain), all hair products that you use a ridiculous amount of to make your hair look like you did nothing to it and any "old school" media.  You look like an idiot.

Overweight girls that wear the following: baby Ts, pants with writing on the butt, sleeveless anything, white pants, and metal upper arm bands (most of you are wearing them as bracelets....).  Line up behind the hipsters.

Clothing: Dress like you don't buy everything at Forever 21.

Money: Get used to not having it.

Friends:  BFF is a load of shit.

Now.  I'm not trying to be a Debbie Downer.  This part will be fun.  You'll have your own apartment (still with roommates, but at least your fate is not in the hands of campus housing).  You should probably get REALLY good at writing passive agressive notes.  Then you can post them to the web, become internet famous and solve the money problem for a hot sec because we all know the possible tv show "Sh*t My Roommate's Say or Do That Inspire Passive Aggressive Notes" is going to die after the pilot.

You will succeed at something.  Some of you will be amazing at-home moms- please limit your posts of "Timmy Eating Applesauce" to less than 400 pictures.  Some of you will become business men/women and we will secretly hate you for your business lunches that include liquid lunch on an expense account.  Some of you are going to work for the MBTA and for that I'm assuming you punched a kitten at some time in your life and this is payback.

The point is: Make friends with a really good bartender.  Don't buy furniture/massage services off craigslist.  Don't expect to be Director of Awesomeness and Head Blogger at your first job, but don't settle for a life of post-its and board packets.

In closing, Class of 2012, I leave you with this.  Live your life like Oregon Trail.  Don't be a lazy ass kid.  Carry your fare share of the meat.  Always be the banker.  And when it comes time to write the epitaph for your tombstone make sure they use the word toot because everyone laughs at gas humor.

<drops mike to a standing ovation>

If Ticketing Managers Could Record the REAL Box Office Voicemail Message

Thank you for calling . Our hours…. Ma’am are you listening? Because I can pretty much guarantee you’re not listening to this portion and will leave a ranting message about how we aren’t answering the phones at 6am. Our hours are 10am-5pm Monday through Friday. Our performances start promptly and aren’t delayed due to: “the green line being a bitch”, “Red Sox game let out all over me”, “toe cramps”, “low blood sugar due to Dunkin’ being out of crullers”, “facebook ads lied to you about free parking in Boston” or “Walk for a Cure for Restless Leg Syndrome”. Be advised we will put you on hold if you begin our call with the following: “I’ve been a subscriber for …” or “Oh, good an actual human being!” or “What’s your name?” or “My show is tonight and I want to exchange despite your exchange policy as I donated $5 in 1981”. Our performances last as long as it takes you to sit in your seat so pee and sit the hell down. To keep things short: No, we don’t have any better seats- the seats we list for you are the best as we want to keep our interactions to the length of a prison phone call. All stories about the last time you saw this show or this performer are best accepted in email for to spam@company.org. Don’t ask to be upgraded to orchestra seating due to using crutches as I saw you chasing down a sales clerk at Filene’s yesterday yelling that you didn’t get your AARP discount. Thank you for calling, though you probably were yelling at your husband during this whole message about something or other and heard none of this, and we look forward to hearing your message of you saying, “Hello? Harold, I’m waiting for the beep. Did it beep? It’s 5:25am and I’m calling to find out the dates for your shows 3 years from now because we’re planning a trip. This is Mrs. Smith. I’m in your system.”

Are You Fo Real?! or Life In General

This blog post is brought to you by recent ruminations, rants and the letters F and U.

Queuing. Lining up. Did you learn nothing from 1st grade?!

I don't understand why people have to be first in line. I was flying recently and sitting in the terminal. When the flight attendant announced that boarding was about to begin people ran life it was Pamploma. You have an assigned seat... we aren't leaving until you are seated, belted in and you have been threatened with your life if you don't finish your game of "Words With Friends".

On the T. I get that the train can be more packed than Twink Night at Ramrod, but really you don't have hover at the door even though your stop is 15 stops away. Also, to every tourist coming to Boston. EVERYONE IS GETTING OFF AT PARK STREET. No need to show how awesome of a linebacker you are fighting to make your way to the exit. We're all heading to the same finish line and you are wicked annoying. Go Pats.

To conclude. Are you a passenger on the Titanic? Is Dunkin Donuts handing out free iced lattes for life? Do you have the opportunity to meet Sara Ramirez? Then calm yo self.

Why is Aaron Sorkin Not Writing Life?

I think we can all agree that Obama smacks down Bush in public speaking. It's almost embarrassing. Nay, it's more awkward than watching me write a note in permanent ink attempting to spell correctly the following words: guarantee, embarrassing, and awkward. But if you have even watched 1 episode of West Wing you are currently giving me the highest mental high fives as you too wish that Jed Bartlett could be your president and that Aaron Sorkin wrote all of the things.

Operation: Achieve All the Things

You know me... well at least most of you reading this know me. Last year I changed my career path... and 8 months later returned to it. I got married to only person in the world that can both love me and not laugh at every joke- it makes me try harder than whipping out the tried and true twss. And since the Golden Globes last night we all saw the signs of the apocalypse:

• A blonde singer from the midwest will go all Harry Potter
• Laura Croft will achieve the same body as the children she adopts
• We will all do a spit take at Ben Kingsley's wife
• The best actress of all time will drop the S-bomb and still be the most elegant woman in the room
• The writers of "Modern Family" will prove that geeky sarcasm is hot

I have decided to make a bucket list of things I want to accomplish:

1. Find a career path that doesn't involve me wanting to stab my eye out every time a phone rings/not hear the following phrases on a daily basis "And that's why you can't see a Wagner with a husband who has incontinence" or "You have student rush, but no senior rush? That's agism!" or "Why aren't you open at 6am? I have been calling for hours to exchange my tickets... this is Lyric Stage right?". Do colleges take coupons?
2. Volunteer more. I started with The Boston Marathon- not running, the only thing that runs on me is my boxed hair dye... I mean... I'm a natural red head. I'm debating volunteering for the Wine Festival, but I think we know that could lead to a shit show of epic, Lohan, Spears proportions.
3. Read. And Playbills don't count. Also, reading books that are above the average reader age of 14. Hunger Games don't count. Hunger Games could solve world peace and make a perfect omelet. I feel we should put "May the odds be ever in your favor" in the constitution.
4. Take classes. By 2013 I want to be able to build my own app, make my own mozzarella, sail a boat on the Charles, make pottery b/c I keep losing our damn tupperware.
5. Change the world a little at a time: Talk Chenoweth out of singing country, stop playing Plants v. Zombies in staff meetings, tell more heavy women to stop tucking their shirts into their 'skinny' jeans- don't make us all look like new stuffed sausages, tell people to stop yelling at Rosie O'Donnell... we know she's an annoying angry lez, but we got this.
6. Support local shops. If that means that I have to eat all of the cheeses on farmer's market day to keep those guys in business I will. They do God's work.

This is going to be ongoing and suggestions are accepted. But let it be known, any defamation of Nutella's character will not be tolerated. Ridding one's life of that delicious nectar is a sin and, essentially, we would let the terrorist win. Yeah... think about that.