I have become a suburbanite. For a while I was just a former Hoosier dwelling in an outlying area of Atlanta. It was all luck of the draw and Dairy Queen dreams… now it’s become who I am. How did this happen to me? Continue reading
Tag Archives: Atlanta
Here’s the thing. Gone With The Wind is one of my mother’s favorite films, if not the favorite. She had the book, she had the videos and she eventually had the dvds. I saw the covers. And yes, I do judge things by their covers. I saw the guy who gets the girl embracing with the sun setting behind them and knew how the story goes. I read the synopsis on the back and it didn’t take much guesswork to fill in the gaps, let alone the ending.
Besides, growing up in the 80s and 90s, the phenomena that was Gone With The Wind had been around for over fifty years. It was ingrained in pop culture. Everyone knew the story of a snobby Southern Belle named Scarlett and her roguishly debonair lover/foe Rhett Butler. Thanks to Carol Burnett, we knew she wore curtains for a dress. We knew Scarlett would “never be hungry again.” Kids on playgrounds everywhere would say, “Frankly Scarlett, I don’t give a damn” (it was a way of getting away with swearing because you were quoting a classic).
If you were aware of all of this, you were also aware of how ridiculously long the book and the film are. Like The Wizard of Oz, no need to waste your time when you knew the happily ever after.
Except there was no happily ever after. WHAT?!! Continue reading
Is it over yet? Has the fat lady sung? What the hell was I thinking? Don’t get me wrong, I am SO excited to be cast in LTYM: Atlanta, but these were the thoughts I had as I walked into Taco Mac one cool spring evening a couple of weeks back. I’d missed the first rehearsal because I was away on business. That means the cast got together without me. That also means everybody already knows everyone and I am officially the last kid picked at the next kickball game.
The producers had taken pity on my plight and were willing to set up an independent read-through with me. I was thankful for their pity and grateful when I found out that someone else had missed the rehearsal, too. Now there would be another who would duke it out with me for that second to last spot on the field (because being the last man standing when being cherry picked by your peers is never a desirable result).
I walked in and there was Shelly Davis. She peeked around the first booth in the joint. “Are you Libby?” I smiled. She had my hair. Everything was going to be ok.
Miranda Wicker (producer #1) slid in the booth right behind me. We cajoled, ordered beers, and eventually got down to brass tax. After I read my composition, I felt calm. After Shelly read her work, I felt even more at peace. After Miranda shared her essay, I felt this was going to be good. This was going to be really good. If their pieces were indicative of the rest of the casts’ caliber, it’s not going to be really good – it’s going to be incredible.
A second rehearsal was just around the corner. I was finally going to meet the rest of my teammates. I strolled into Panera, ordered my sweet tea and headed to the conference room (by the way, am I the only one who didn’t know Panera has a conference room?).
The first person I saw in the room was familiar at least – Jana Anthoine (producer #2). As everyone gathered, sharing their hellos and making small talk, all I could do was smile. Whatever I’d gotten myself into, there were thirteen others in it with me. And I was about to find out they were thirteen totally amazing others.
I listened to everyone’s stories. I was in awe of the pure talent that was before me. And to think, I’d actually be sharing a stage with these people in about two weeks’ time (as Wayne and Garth might lament – so not worthy!) Each was a personal portrait of their reflections on or their experience with motherhood told in a way that had me laughing, crying, and at times almost wishing I was a mother (and you know that would take some pretty heavy convincing).
I sat in that back room of Panera Bread inspired and thankful and totally indebted to my producers for seeing something in my work I clearly didn’t see. I love all of these people who have offered up bits and pieces of themselves in order to celebrate motherhood (and I only met them like five minutes ago!). I was having one of the best kinds of no-take-backs there are: the warm and fuzzy kind.Jana Anthoine (totally awesome producer) Miranda Wicker (totally awesome producer) Benjamin Carr (totally awesome castmate) Robin Dance (totally awesome castmate) Shelly Davis (totally awesome castmate) Tracy Kistler (totally awesome castmate)
Leslie Marinelli (totally awesome castmate) Denise Des Soye Mount (totally awesome castmate) Sarah Beth Nelson (totally awesome castmate)
Ashley Robinson (totally awesome castmate)
Renee J. Ross (totally awesome castmate) Lyssa Sahadevan (totally awesome castmate) Katherine Stone (totally awesome castmate)
These people have put themselves out there, just like me, and are finding a powerful return on their investment. The more you put out, the more you get back, people. It’s that simple. So why not make it a warm and fuzzy no-take-back week for yourself? And if you are in the Atlanta area this Saturday night, come and join us for Listen To Your Mother.
Not a Throw-Back-Monday this week, but a big No-Take-Back.
I auditioned for something! Yeah. Me. I auditioned. I’m not the theater chick in the family, either. In fact, quite the contrary. Pretty much every production I’ve ever been in has ended in me doing something really stupid in front of the entire audience.
Cases in point:
Christmas pageant – I messed up the words to basically every song while singing loudly and extremely off key.
Men In Black Senior Pep Rally Dance – I forgot the choreography in the middle of the song.
Church talent show – again, I forgot the choreography, this time actually stopping and smacking my forehead so loudly it could be heard above the cassette music while heartily resonating throughout the sanctuary for all to hear.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly dramatic, and I do thrive on congratulatory offerings from my peers, but performing in any way shape or form in front of a live audience was traumatic enough in my formative years, let alone at 34 years of age.
So here’s what happened. I wrote a post that reconnected me with a girl I met for just three hours over 16 years ago. Her name is Lovelyn Palm. In the course of our reconnection, she told me about a show that was coming to Atlanta – Listen To Your Mother. The sign up for auditions ended that very evening. I thanked her for sharing and of course checked it out. It looked really cool. There was also not a snowball’s chance of me signing up for that audition. It was already like 9PM and who knows if the sign up really went to midnight anyway?
But right when I was about to file it away into the “cool things I’d never attempt to do” folder, I had that feeling. Deep in the pit of my ever expanding stomach, I knew that if I didn’t at least put my name on that sign up, my entire blog would be a lie. This was the perfect example of doing something I’d never ordinarily do. This was a No-Take-Backs moment of epic proportions. I added my name.
Then – I had an audition. I had to write an essay for it regarding motherhood. I’m childless. The situation just went from bad to worse. It could be about any aspect of motherhood, but I was hardly an expert on the topic, but I wrote one anyway.
I got to choose my audition slot. It was at 9:45 AM. I was nervous. I wasn’t just reading other people’s words with feeling, I was having to read my words with feeling and in front of the co-producers: Jana Anthoine and Miranda Wicker.
It was my time. I walked in and it was like a scene from a hilarious yet awkward movie. There in front of me sat seriously the longest conference table I’d ever seen in my life. And yes, the producers were all the way at the other end. I actually asked if I needed to read from there and they said “No! No! Come on down!” with smiles. Whew. At least there were smiles.
So I sat across from them and read my piece. Jana and Miranda made it the most comfortable experience it could possibly be for the eight and a half minutes I was there. I appreciated that. We shared a laugh or two (they were so sweet). Then they thanked me and said they’d be in touch.
As I headed to the parking lot, I was so proud of what I’d done. I had put myself out there in an extremely unnerving scenario and lived to tell the tale. I’d done it. I had auditioned for something. One of the most exciting no-take-backs yet. You may not believe it, but this was a hard one for me, folks.
And the best part? I got cast.
You can check it out here. Buy a seat and come see me in April!
Snow. I’ve said it before – snow is that beautiful white fluffy stuff that blankets your yard, makes the air crisp and silences unwanted clatter. It makes me feel home.
Other Atlantans disagree. Because things like this happen.
Which leads to this.
And then this.