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...

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.”

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.

Letters to my 17 year-old self...

Dear 17 year-old-self,

I want to start off saying I know these will be of no use to you as I’m now 30 and I’m a grown ass adult and understand the workings of past and present, but I feel that these epitaphs should serve as a reminder of things done terribly, horribly wrong/if you are a fat, pimply closeted chick in the south surfing the interwebs… you might want to take a gander at these.

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

Learn that that $3 box of hair dye is never the right option. This whole lesson of “you get what you pay for”/”fast, cheap and easy” will never work out well for you- no if, and or butts (heyooo, cause it’s a joke on ‘easy’ and… never mind). Also, you will start going grey in 1 year. And I’m not talking a strand or two. I’m talking full blown bustin’ out all over. And just accept the fact that you are a brunette. You. Will. Never. Be. A. Blonde. You are just killing the living crap our of your remaining hair and you will regret it when you are a broke ass college student and you have more episodes of roots than the Lifetime Movie Network in February making up for the fact they never have any diversity throughout the remainder of the year in their “Not Without My Daughter Who Secretly Huffs Coffee Filters” staring Meredith Baxter Burney marathons. Lastly, magenta is a color meant for swatches of fabric, not your hair.

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

You do not/will not like boys. Stop using whatever “acting skills” (we’ll get to that later) you think you have when you “gush” over Curt, Tim, Chris and Mike. The only thing you will EVER share with them is a love of “Wicked” and gossiping over a box of wine. Your extremely strong feelings of bonding with certain females- they are called crushes.

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

Despite the fact you think that your acting skills are extraordinary, Broadway is your new home, your dreams are immense and, much like the Koolade man, no walls can contain them. You have no talent. You are not an actress. You are a witty person that likes attention which is understandable why you confused this with talent. You will not be an actress. Also, grades make a difference. You do well in high school, but enjoying the on-campus Chick-fil-a and plethora of parties that serve free beer you will slowly slump into a semester of Suma Cum C average… although later on you will learn an appreciation for free beer. Choosing a PR major, as it was the closest thing to acting- being able to talk and entertain to sell something to make money, you are only kidding yourself. You will intern. You will graduate and you will sell tickets for 10 years after college. You grow an affinity for boxed wine and a sarcasm muscle so huge it is ogled by men and women alike. It’s not too late for you to become a teacher. They share a lot of these above traits, but make more money and have better retirement.

Also, GET OFF YOUR ASS AND APPLY FOR SCHOLARSHIPS. I am broke and student loans will majorly impact your Broadway show fund. You will come to learn the importance of finding change in between the seats of your car so that you can get lunch from the 99cent menu at Wendy’s. You will learn to post-date checks to the point you forget what year you’re in. You will learn how to get free drinks from anything that even remotely mouth breathes. Clipping coupons will be cool. You will learn to fold your laundry in a certain way so that people at the Laundromat will not see the Gapê tag aka the knock-off Gap/Nordstrum/Bebe item of clothing you bargained for because then you could also pay the cable bill.

We all know you joined all of those clubs to be in as many year book pictures as possible. Your ego is ridiculous. You will be given a shot of reality very soon and then, wincing, life will make you say, "Please sir, may I have another?".

This is not meant to depress you. This is meant to slap you in the face and any other teen that thinks that food will always be in the fridge, gas tanks have no empty and that moving out will be the most awesome thing ever. Stop it. No!

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

Your skills at skipping class will come in greatly in skipping meetings. Well done there kiddo.

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

Spend less time studying and learn more $10 words. They will get you jobs and save you from looking like an ass when you have been playing Angry Birds throughout a staff meeting- whip one out, hopefully applying to the same discussion topic on the table feigning any shred of interest you could possibly have about whether the filing cabinet should be organized by alphabet or defaulting on the system created by a staff member 15 years ago that is more complex than the Dewey decimal system, but couldn’t organize itself out of a paper bag.

XO,
K

Dear 17 year-old-self,

This is part 1 of many in a continuing series so sit back, turn on some Greenday/N’Sync/Bone Thugs n’ Harmony you big poser and stop telling people to call you Rosie O’Donnell 2. It’s not going to turn out that great to have that relation and actually turns out to be AMAZING foreshadowing.

XO,
K