Evita Peron, La Santa Peronista

Yes, I still exist. I was getting a little crazy with the blog posts anyway, so it was probably nice to have a break from my rambling. 

Anyway, the day I landed in the city, my friend Cy, called me up and asked if I wanted a job. Of course I said, YES! He told me to come down the the Marquis Theater in the Marriott Hotel in Times Square to meet with the manager of this merchandising company.

So, I took my severely jet-lagged self down to hell, I mean Times Square, and in a blur, met my now good friend Brendan, and have been listening to Ricky Martin and the rest of the cast of Evita at least 4 times a week while I sold t-shirts, mugs, and key chains. At least I can say I worked on Broadway, right....? 

(You wouldn't believe how many people asked if this is where Evita was playing....)

Saturday night was Evita's last. I didn't have too many feeling about it, but it was kind of an end to my first era here in New York. I had convos with both Alec Baldwin and Rachel Dratch (they asked me where the bathroom was) during my time at the Marquis. Saw J-Lo, Nia Vardalos, a bunch of other people of interest that I can't remember, obsessed Ricky fans, the mini-Rickies (adorable!), and a surprising number of trannies. 

We hit up the closing night party to share in the love and food.

Allan even showed who owns the company and is also a producer on the show. He has 4 Tony's for producing and is one of my favorite people in NYC to talk to. He buys me pizza sometimes and I let him.

So, farewell, Evita. You helped me meet some quality people, make some dollars, and feel a teensy bit involved in the industry. It's going on tour in the fall and maybe I'll see you then. But hopefully from the stage this time....(hello, mistress. cast me! So what happens nooooow?)

Still here

I'll be back. Never you worry. It's been a busy few days and I've been too sleepy to write at night like I normally do. Tomorrow I'll have plenty of time to blog as I sit on the benches of shame hoping to get into some auditions (don't make me sing).

Deep Breath

When getting to know someone, you always ask them where they're from. Especially in the city, since most people are from somewhere else. In my case, when I reply with, "Utah", the follow-up question is usually, "Are you a Mormon?" I always give a slight pause, accompanied with a deep breath, wondering if I should even answer. 

Why, you ask?

Because I'm afraid. Afraid I'll be judged and afraid the person asking is going to feel judged somehow when they get my answer. There is also a million questions that follow and sometimes, I just don't feel like going there. (Don't worry, I always suck it up and tell the truth). 

My fears were validated today, as one of my new managers asked the big question. When I replied with a yes, he said his walls are immediately up now. Since he is gay, he feels that all really religious people judge him and think he's being damned to hell.

Now, I know that all people don't build up walls when they learn about my religious life, but it makes me feel funny that some feel like I won't like them or value them as a human merely because of how I choose to worship God. 

I hope I made it clear to him, that I love all and accept all and I asked him to give me the benefit of the doubt. Just because I'm a Mormon/religious, doesn't mean I thought less of him because he's gay. Also, that I hoped he would do the same for me. 

Anyway, (this a poorly written word vomit blog, I'm starving) it got me thinking about what we in the Mormon culture can do to change other's perceptions that we are judgy judgertons (I am super judgy, but only if you're stupid). If you think about it, what we really believe is to love each other, love God, and let Him take care of the rest. I want that to be first thing the world knows about Mormons and not that we "hate the gays." Hopefully, we can figure that one out. 

This blog was a little too serious/boring for my liking. So enjoy this video for your entertainment.

To bang or not to bang

That is always the question.

It's about that time again when my hair gets far too long to do anything with and I want to chop it all off. Instead of going Britney on myself, I'm thinking about a slight change and going with some fringe. 

Something along the lines of this:

Not too dramatically different from what my hair is now. I'm just not sure if I want to commit to bangs again.....

What say ye?

Mantra for 2013

Now that I've gotten that outta the way....let's talk about goals. 

In the past, I haven't really been one for New Year's resolutions. This year I think I'm a grown-up enough to actually follow through with them. So, I decided to make a few. 

Most, I'm keeping to myself (I'm shy), but the biggest one I will share, because I think it's the most important for me. If I share it I will be held more accountable, right? 

Here it is:

If I ever say I'm too scared to try something, don't let me get away with it! Unless, it's really stupid. Don't let me become an idiot in 2013.

Seeing red

Normally, I'm a no confrontation kinda gal. I like to keep things light-hearted. That being said, there comes a point when a woman can only take so much and she has to speak up.

And that time has come.

For years now, people have their opinions of my relationship with Mr. G. Since we have had an atypical Utah dating experience and haven't gotten married yet, talk seems to follow us and the "blame" is usually put on my man. People even say asinine, derogatory comments to ME!

Being the private person I am about my love life, I know that some of you haven't gotten to know the Mr. G that I "stick around" for. So for the few who don't get it yet (because most people think he is the bees knees like I do) let me enlighten you. 

(He will probably hate this post, because I'm going to expose him for the man of quality he is). 

Yes, he has a strong personality (which I love btw), but he'll hold my hand and ugly cry during a movie right along with me (see, he's gonna hate this). He saw two poor dead little ducklings the other day in the park, which made him sad, so he gave them a proper burial. I mean, come on! AND he rescued Chancho from the streets of Mexico!

That "strong personality" is also why he is a born leader, majorly successful, super popular, and has huge muscles. Duh!

Yes, he's jokester and sometimes people don't understand his humor, maybe find it offensive, but he is also the most sincere human I've ever know. When he gives a compliment, he actually means it. He is always first to volunteer help to anyone who needs it. Also, does a lot of good-doing anonymously. If you only knew.... Heart of gold I tell you. Heart of gold. 

We both find things that toe the line of tact funny. Sorry 'bout it!

Yes, we've had a crazy journey and most people don't understand it, but it's OUR crazy journey and we CHOOSE to continue it. I choose to continue it. 

Again, I choose it. 

I choose it, because, like they say, the little things. Things like:

back tickles, cooking me dinner more than I cook for him, opening doors, making me laugh constantly, reading books aloud, watching LOTR marathons, walks with Chancho, poop jokes, the broken fart-barrier, insanely supportive, mad guitar skills, foot rubs, telling me I'm beautiful, letting me pick at his clogged pores, bike rides, saying sorry, forgiving me, putting up with me, his rock star voice, thoughtful gifts, etc, etc, etc.

Without him, I probably wouldn't have had the courage to move to NYC. He has taught me to be brave and has been such a champion to me. 

That is why, my dears, he is my Captain Casanova (inside joke). Perhaps I've said too much, but I couldn't sleep with at least saying something when others have so much to say. 

Now go eat a cookie. 

New Shoes

While we're on the subject of dogs, Mr. G sent me this hysterical (to me) video of poor Chancho being humiliated when he tried on his new shoes for the first time. Everyone was laughing at him, but he didn't know what those dumb, stupid little things on his feet were.

Poor buddy! He freaking hates them and everyone for laughing at him!

The kick-back of his hind legs kills me. And, I love that he looks up at Mr. G at the end wondering why he put those GD booties on his feet. I just know he's pleading with him to, "take 'em off!!!"

Needless to say, they were returned and his poor paws are still freezy when he goes to do his jobs (potty) outside.