It's like lemonade- Sweet, Tangy, and Refreshing!

June 30, 2005

Meet Me at the Muny...

It's been too long.

I'm a theatre addict- I crave a good play now and then. I haven't been involved in theatre since I started college- not really. I slipped up, not grabbing hold of the opportunities under my nose. Because of that, I need a fix.

A jolt.

Some really good thespian action.

It's been over a year since I've been to the Muny, I believe. Since they picked up the musical Cats, so... well, perhaps a little under a year, depending on when it was. In any case, I leaped at the chance to go back when Athene's favorite musical was picked up for their playlist this year. Neither heat, nor sweat, nor begging boyfriend would keep me from seeing a man parade about in the warm air in a full costume. (Preferably, Drac would have been with me- but work schedules would not permit. Damnit.)

Now, I might mention that my favorite broadway actor generally does one role per Muny season, if it fits his schedule. Ken Page- no stranger to the city of the largest outdoor municipal theatre, played Maurice in the performance of Beauty and the Beast when I went on Wendnesday. And I feel completely biased when I say: John Goodman, eat your heart out!

On a side note concerning the Muny, it felt like it was missing someone- a certain singing vendor. His name escapes me, but there were a few articles on him in summers past when my family would go over the summer. He'd have a few parodies of the songs from the musical for the season, working as jingles to sell his super ropes and soda cans. I recall a memorable rendition of "The Trolley Song" from Meet Me in St Louis, for example.

Hang on... I'm only 21. I'm not allowed to get nostalgic for another four years.

Hmmmmmmmm... maybe next summer I should take on a job at the Muny instead of staying with a safe little job in retail.

June 21, 2005

We're Number One!

That is to say, after falling behind in registrated attendance to Denver's Komen Race for the Cure, our city picked up the slack and is the largest KRftC! Huzzah!

You could feel it, too- the estrogen thick in the air, but also the feeling of- togeatherness. It wasn't just women who'd been running for their entire lives. It was grandmothers walking with grandchildren, mothers walking with daughters, and people that had never met each other before in their life. Such as myself and Freckles.

Freckles is somewhat of a Smoker/Joker/Midnight Toker sort. She's... um... a bit out there. Coming down from her own caffine buzz, she told me that she'd easily done 48 hours straight of activity and then crash for twenty more. She slept through high school, partied on weekends (and sometimes during the week), and graduated with a 3.0 thanks to summer school.

I met her during the warm-up, where everyone who's close enough to the granstand that doesn't feel like really, really cramping up on the route ends up looking like a Jane Fonda workout video. I was at the back, having just gotten through putting my bags of freebies in the car, and a bit zippy from the 180 that was given out earlier. (ZZzzzEEE!! That stuff's strong! Everyone talks about red bull with vodka- I'd try it with a screwdriver- but wouldn't want to ruin a memosa.) Punching and jabbing our way to almost physical looseness, Freckles introduced herself, and before the end of warm-ups, I'd agreed to walk with her.

After all, I was planning on doing the fun walk.

Being pointed in the right direction by Tarrith and his girlfriend- both volunteering and looking stellar in their orange shirts, we made our way to where everyone was gathering- but even though everyone started moving- I could see the one-mile detour marker at an angle out of the corner of my eye. I did. And I didn't take it. When Kay called later, she was down by the Arch, and had me convinced I was on the right route, even though she'd passed that exact same spot mere minutes ago.

Little did I know I'd be looking up at the Arch twenty minutes later. But, God, it was beautiful... Musicians scattered about on the route, Freckles was delighted by an Irish bagpipe- myself by the all-woman a-cappella choir singing "I Will Survive". There was water for all the people that had signed up in correlation with Cornbread from one of the country morning shows- but I wouldn't let Freckles lay out on the bed from the Mattress Store- otherwise I would too... and then I wouldn't get up.

And at that point, I'd figured out that we were on the long walk.

But- when the home stretch was in sight, there was Big Daddy- in orange- right there to give me a big hug. And then- resting in Keiner plaza until it was time to say goodbye. Not before I exchanged phone numbers with Freckles, though...

Wonder if she'll remember who I am if she ever randomly checks her address book.

~*~

On a related note, Congratulations to everyone who Raced for the Cure, watched it on TV, or were with us in spirit. If you thought about coming and didn't, come next year. Early. We have yougurt!

And Bona-Fide Grade-A Coupons for T-shirts... because, let's face it, on race day, they always run out. Seeing as I'm the only one in my family NOT a survivor that ran, I'd better be sure to snag one this year.

June 11, 2005

In the Pink

Race For the Cure is next Saturday.

I'll be there... will you?

Okay, Okay...

Time for a real post, I suppose. Sheez, aren't I allowed to have fun anymore?

Anywho, I've been working at TJ Maxx just long enough for my 45 day review, and did fairly well, considering. I just need to up my abilities. I mean, it was like getting all C's and a B... "Meets and occasionally Exceeds expectations" for an overally. Not bad.

Because I've been working so often, it's sort of become an exclusion to several other things going on in my house. For example- Kay's dog.

Now, I didn't want a dog. When we moved into the new house, dad gave away Milkshake to the guy that was helping us move. Sure, the man asked Tarrith, but at that point it was only a formality. We haven't seen her since, but according to Gram- a friend of the man- she's doing quite well, and they've changed her name.

Again.

So naturally, when Kay gets very hyped about getting a dog, Tarrith stews. I just didn't understand that she was serious, half laughing it off and half wondering why we'd get a dog when my brother wasn't allowed to keep his very well-mannered cat. I mean, a puppy can tear up a house, shred carpet, shed everywhere, etc.

At this point, it's odd... He'll walk in the house, and sit on the couch, as though the dog weren't there. Then again, Gala's not a friendly dog per se. Being half German Shephard, she's got a bit of a chip on her shoulder. Very protective, like. Not that she's bitten Tarrith- but she has snapped at me before. (That's another story, though.)

I don't know if he'll warm up to her or not. Either way, it's not long before he'll be off to Kansas City Art Insitute, and won't have to think about dog hair first thing in the morning.