deep breaths.

the mortgage man completely spaced our application for a home equity line of credit.

you know, the loan that was going to make it possible for us to conquer the cash flow situation created by getting married the summer after a year of full-time graduate study, followed closely on by a cross-country move.

because he flaked on the paperwork, we can no longer get through the process by july 12, the day we leave for seattle. which means . . .

i don't know what it means. i'm kind of scared to think about it. i know if i had been a little more on the ball, i'd have gotten this process started months ago, but months ago i was in school, and i was kind of hoping that when dealing with bankers i could finally let down my guard about checking up on everyone else's chores and trust that the person who was supposed to get it done would just freaking get it done.

the seamstress and the jeweler who's making our wedding bands are also overdue to call me, potentially dropping balls i similarly left in their court as i type this. jesus christ. nothing stimulates anxiety like the world proving that it's warranted.

in case you didn't already like kids, or: fly, fat bird!

my friend claudia reports that her son, william (currently older than pictured here), loves to sing. standards in his repertoire include "Twinkle, Little Star" ('although instead of "diamond in the sky" he sings "a diamond outside") and something c. describes mysteriously as a 'robot song.' this week, however, he branched out into new genres. claudia describes hearing him softly croon:

"Fat bird singing in the dead of night . . .
Take these broken wings and learn to fly . . .
Fat bird, fly . . . Fat bird, fly. "


i love him a little.

The joy of live theatre

There are many things one is not in control of as an actor. We call it "the joy of live theatre." Just to pull an example out of my hat, when a member of the audience vomits before the opening curtain, right there in their seat, that's the joy of live theatre. Or if the lights go out about a half an hour in because of some mystery power failure. Ah, the joy! But when these things happen in the same evening then joy has moved out and is replaced by an unsettling silence from the crowd. That we call "dying."

recon.

bike paths.

neighborhoods.

friends i didn't know lived there.

more to follow.

On the Radio

I promised a link, a link is here

Ronald Coleman, huh?

I've been in St. Louis for the last three weeks or so playing dress-up. I just opened A L1ttle N1ght Mus1c at the lovely Stages St. Lou1s. We opened on Wednesday night, and we'll run to July 1st. I'm getting to do all kinds of actorly things like wear tail coats, put five pounds of gray crap in my hair, and get interviewed on the the local NPR station(!) The last bit just happened this morning. I'll post a link to the audio when it is posted, if you'd like to hear me sound like I am totally making up stuff to sound smart (lbh, there's no need for you to listen, since you hear me do that on a daily basis).

This is a rendering for one of my costumes. I love the picture, because the costume designer drew it with me in mind, so he kind of looks like me. His hair is thicker.

i am marrying ronald colman.

if you are curious what chris has been up to . . . .


he's been dressing up like THIS!:






and, yes. he will look just like this at the wedding. i promise.

in case you are wondering,

the safety cowboy is playing our wedding.




(not promising puppets.)