Mea Culpa

(Or, as my mom says, "Mayor Cooper.")

So, it looks like my typing fingers made a promise my heart couldn't cash in my last post. Of course, the moment I vowed not to let thoughts of pitter-pattering little feet take over the blog, it was the only thing I could think about to post about. It was like when someone tells you not to think of pink elephants...Then, you can't think of anything but pink elephants!

Add to that the fact that in a week, I won't be thirty any more, and I'd hate to have to think of a clever new name for this blog. (Thirty-one, Flirty-one, and Fabulous...one?)

All of that out there on the table, I've decided to start a new blog. That's right, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen: A BRAND NEW (AND IMPROVED) BLOG. You can find it at http://mamaturg.blogspot.com. There will be posts about theatre stuff and living-life stuff (much like this here blog), as well as posts about my journey being a mom and having a family. I've even imported some of my "greatest hits" over there to start us off.

Come join me at Mamaturg!

Well, Hello!

Hello, blog! Long time, no see. I know I've been neglectful. Here, have a bouquet of flowers and a half-eaten box of chocolates. (What? I got hungry!) Want a foot massage?

I've missed you, baby. Been thinking about you all the time. But you know how it is when you're in a relationship with a workaholic. I hope you'll have me back...

Yay for more blogging! So, what have I been doing in my long absence?

• Dramaturging plays for The Inkwell and Doorway Arts (most recently, this past weekend).
• Taking a trip to California (happy reason: wedding, sad reason: funeral--the two were unrelated, just happened to be the same weekend).
• Going to concerts (Frightened Rabbit!).
• Seeing plays.
• Teaching.
• Learning more about the ukulele.
• Gestating!

That's right, as if you didn't know already, your (soon-to-be-again-I-promise) intrepid blogger is pregnant! Really racking up the life changes in my ThirtyFlirtyFab year! I may be tempted to discuss the pregnancy and ensuing child on this blog, but I hereby make the following promises:

1. There will be no medical-type information. ('Cause, raise your hand if you need to know what's going on inside my uterus. Any hands up? No? I didn't think so.)
2. The pregnancy and ensuing child will not be the sole subject of this here blog.

I have more dramaturgy gigs coming up, an insight on ageism in the world of play criticism, work-related musings, and hopefully more pictures of food-type yumminess. I'm back, baby!

With Kindness

Today was a very full day, for reasons I'd rather not get ingot in a public forum. But something really nice happened--like, jaw-droppingly nice--and I just have to share. :)

I was picking up a prescription from CVS, and the girl behind the counter complimented my hair color. I just redid it on Friday--red fades so darned quickly--and it does look pretty good, if I do say so myself. So, I told her, "It's L'oreal 6R."

"Really?" she asked. (As though she couldn't believe she could have this color for $8.00.)

"Sure. I can get you a box if you want." It was, like, two aisles over.

"Really?" she asked again. I nodded and she thought for a moment. "You're not from DC, are you?"

"Well, I lived in DC for twelve years or so, but I live in Silver Spring now."

"Oh, ok." She started counting out pills, and I ran over to the hair color aisle and pulled a box for her. You know, just so she could see what it looked like. We talked more about hair for a little bit (she wasn't sure red would look good on her; I gave her my mantra that hair is the one thing you can change, and if you don't like it, dye it some other color) while she typed my info into the computer, and then she handed me the prescription. I asked if I could pay with my FSA card, and she said...

"You know, you were so nice, I took off the co-pay for you."

I think I must have just silently blinked a few times, and then I remembered her scanning a CVS gift card. I think I thought she was just scanning one of the behind-the-counter CVS scan cards. But, no, she COVERED MY CO-PAY. I told her that was incredibly sweet, and she said, "You were nice to me. No one is ever nice to us. Like, one percent of people, but they're not as nice as you. So, thank you."

I thanked her very much and left the store. And then I called my mom, one of the two people (along with my dad) who taught me to always be nice to strangers. It really pays sometimes.

Out on a Limb

So, I had no idea I even had a 31x31 list. I mean, I guess I don't, really. Nowhere have I written down--or even seriously thought about--a list of 31 things I'd like to do before I turn 31. But I realized this morning that next month, I'll be doing two things that certainly would go on my list if I had one: being in a dance recital and learning to play the ukulele.

First things first: I've been taking belly dance lessons for a couple of semesters, and in the back of my head, I've always thought it would be cool to get enough confidence to perform in front of people. Though I firmly believe in my workplace mantra of "process, not product," and I really am taking classes for the pure learning and doing something new with my body, I find myself back in the world of remembering choreography and looking at costumes.

I took nine years of ballet, five years of jazz, and one fateful college semester of tap (shoutout to Aly in Cali!), and I always say that what I really learned from those classes was that I can't dance. But here I am! Turns out that while I'm still most definitely a beginner, belly dance (or raqs sharki) is the one kind of dance I've ever been the least bit comfortable with. I actually kinda understand it. It's pretty intuitive, and I've always been good at isolations. And so, next month, I'm going to be in my first recital since 1992. Eep!

Of course, my dad says that since I'm playing the ukulele now, I should switch to hula dance. Which brings us to...

Second things second. For a while now, I've been enamored with ukulele music. Particularly cute girls with ukuleles. (I've previously posted my current very-favorite song.) So, I thought, why not join the ranks of girls with ukes? So what that I've never, ever been able to play an instrument with any sort of aptitude, ever. Not the flute I picked up in fourth grade; not the guitar I bought in 2003 and put aside a month later in a fit of early-twenties it's just too hard! pique. I started browsing ukulele websites (not sure why I didn't think there would be an amazing amount of sites out there), bought a cheap uke, signed up for a class, and got a book from which to start learning.

So, now, I have an absolutely adorable bright yellow Makala ukulele with a dolphin bridge, and the beginnings of callouses on my left-hand fingers. I have nowhere near any sort of technique at all. But I can play seven chords, and fingerpick five notes on the A string and three notes on the E string. I'm even starting to figure out how to read sheet music! I'm excited about the lesson I'm taking in a couple of weeks; it'll be really helpful to have someone show me how you're supposed to strum, instead of the fake-strumming I've been doing. My goal is to be able to do a song for our summer camp talent show next year, and I think I'll definitely be able to do it.

Maybe I should start a 31x31 list...I'll think about it. :)

Since I'm apparently terrible at imbedding videos at the moment, here are some links to three girl-with-ukulele songs I'm into at the moment:

Garfunkel & Oates: "I Would Never" (slightly NSFW)
Sophie Madeleine: "You Are My Favourite"
Danielle Ate the Sandwich: "Handsome Girl"

Long Weekend...

Photo courtesy washingtonpost.com reader TiffanyWcool.

Due to the storm that hit the area on Sunday, I'm on day five of an unforeseen long weekend. (Hooray!?) I did leave for work at my regular time yesterday, and got a call from my boss at 7:30am that went something like this...

BOSS: Hey, are you coming to work today?
ME: Yeah, I'm on the bus now. I'll be there in ten minutes. Why?
BOSS: Well, we don't have power, and we're trying to figure out what we should do. So, um, I'll buy you some coffee at [local cafe].
ME: Sounds good.
(They both hang up their phones. Curtain.)

Why, yes, I do occasionally write plays for a living. Was that evident by my spectacular pacing, and command of dialogue? :)

Of course, what should have been a quick cup of coffee on the company dime turned into a long cup of coffee on the company dime, followed by hanging around outside of the theatre letting parents and students know that we couldn't get into the building either (and, no, ma'am, I'm sorry, if we don't have power, it means we can't call or email our patrons), and then going to Starbucks--on the company dime--with some of my coworkers until finally realizing the power wasn't going to be restored any time soon and calling it quits for the day. My boss (a really good guy) drove me home.

I got to hang out with Jake, which was awesome, and also take a good, long nap. Also awesome.

This morning, I woke up at my summer-usual 5:00am, took a shower, got dressed, and hunkered down until I could figure out whether or not I had to go to work. (Jake and I tried to watch the season finale of You're Cut Off--which, by the way, is amazing--but VH1 cut out 20 minutes in, so that didn't happen.) I did not have to go to work. But we were all "on call" until 11:30, when we would figure out if we could open for afternoon classes.

Nope, still no power.

So, five-day weekend, it is! So far, I've used this time to practice my ukulele (I can successfully play 6-8 chords now!), ice my sprained ankle (sports injury, don'tcha know?), and do a mini-tour of Silver Spring with Jake, Hollie, and Adri. I love impromptu middle-of-weekday hanging out! We had lunch at Thai Derm (insane weekday lunch deals), browsed our local Thai Market (we get some good ingredients from here, but also love to look at things like dried squid balls), and stocked up our fridge with a trip to Fenwick Beer & Wine.

I'll wake up at the same time tomorrow, and bide my time again until I hear whether or not we have power at the theatre, and whether or not I have to go to work. Whee!

Back to Life

Live free or die bear!

After an amazingly restorative long weekend in the Greater Buffalo Area, I'm back to my cozy little metropolis. Even though the weekend started off with a dead car, tons of traffic, and a little side trip to the Susquehanna Valley Mall (one of the best examples I've ever seen of the death of mall culture)--and I'll talk about that more later, probably--and even though it ended with hacked email accounts for both me and Jake, we rolled into Wales Center.

Here is what you have to do when you go to Buffalo: eat wings. With waffle cut fries. And ranch dressing. That was all I was talking about with my friends at home before I went. And for good reason. I don't eat wings here any more. But I will eat everything I can at Bar Bill. Which is usually between five and eight wings and lots of fries. And I no longer call them Buffalo wings. (It's like that joke that in China, they just call Chinese food "food.")

Also, when you go to Western New York, you have to drink beer. And drink beer I did! Maryland beer! Jake brought a case of Flying Dog to the Fourth of July (on the third) party, and it went over like gangbusters. The fireworks in East Aurora were awesome, and we got to watch them from a great location. I've been watching fireworks for thirty years, and they still amaze me. I think they're spectacular. And I'm not ashamed to gasp like a five-year-old when I watch them.

Also, when you're in that area, you simply must spend time at Vidler's. I can't express enough how awesome this place is. It's a five-and-dime, I guess, but what it really is is two floors of sheer awesome. You can get everything in the world at Vidler's, from a Girl Scout uniform to a citrus squeezer to fake vomit. A trip to WNY isn't a trip to WNY if I don't eat wings, drink beer with friends, and go to Vidler's.

The rest of our time was spent with the family, reading, swimming, playing Wii golf and actual golf in the field in front of the house. And eating lots and lots of food. It was completely restorative. I had been so stressed, I didn't know how stressed I was. This weekend (book-ended with visits to my parents' house--thanks for the car!!) was exactly what I needed.

Time to Breathe

Wow, it's been a week so far. Monday was fraught, Tuesday a bit better, and today...well, I stepped in a packet of ketchup and that's all I've been able to smell for the rest of the day, since it splashed all over my ankle, and inside the hem of my jeans. There's been so much I wanted to blog about, but I've just been so exhausted!

This has been a week of broken-down cars, camper freak-outs, hot hot heat, frantic decision-making, and oxidized hair dye, when all I wanted to do in the whole world was dye my hair. Blurg.

Yesterday was made much better by a ten-minute date with a bottle of red hair dye (a day belated, but it looks fab) and an actual date with Jake!

When I got home from work, he suggested we go to Sidebar for the Tuesday raw bar menu. It was a great idea. We've had our fair share of drinks there, but have only had bar snacks (and the occasional Chicago-style hot dog). Sidebar just got a mention in Washingtonian as your "Plan B" go-to speakeasy in the DC area, but it's my #1 pick.

Last night, I had a Classic Old Fashioned and a Sazerac, along with the raw bar dinner. I decided to be bold and try an oyster, 'cause what would a raw bar dinner be without one? I picked the smallest one (natch), and it was delicious! The oysters came with two dipping sauces, and the green one was far superior to the brown vinaigrette-y one. We also had lobster rolls (amazing!) and scallop ceviche with tortilla chips (delish!) to round out the meal. We had great seats up at the bar, and watching the bartender--Gordon?--mixing the drinks was quite a show. Will definitely be back for more raw bar action, and I can't wait to go to a Wednesday chef's night sometime soon.

So, yes, my car is dead, and children are nutty, and it's been really hot out this month, but at least there are good drinks and tasty seafood and good company (not to mention chances to fabulize oneself) to allow me time to breathe.

To Dye For

The closest I ever come to doing anything scientific in my every day life--other than writing lesson plans--is dying my hair. I always feel like a mad scientist when I'm mixing the chemicals together, wearing the latex gloves, and watching the liquids turn from white to dark purple (usually). And so, as I sit here with the contents of a bottle of Feria on my head (a brand I haven't used in the better part of a decade), I'm thinking about the choice to be a redhead.

I'm a natural brunette, and I do think my natural hair color is pretty cute. I can't remember when I got my first set of highlights--maybe around 15? I do remember sitting in the chair at my salon, with a plastic cap on my head, having my hair pulled through tiny little holes with a pick. Or whatever. Tiny little blonde streaks in my hair. Totally '90s.

Right after I graduated from high school, I got the one and only trendy haircut of my life: sliced to right below my chin (necessitating serious blow-drying), thick bleached-out sections, then the whole head dyed red, amounting to three two-inch streaks of fire-engine red on each side of my head. The rest of my hair was very dark. Essentially the same color Courteney Cox had in Scream 2, except I did it first. I swear. Still, totally '90s.

And thus began my love affair with red hair.

My first home-dye was on the floor of my dorm room, freshman year, with my friend Kim working the L'Oreal magic. I've only gotten my color done in a salon once or twice since then; a stylist actually told me once that I was doing a pretty good job myself, and I didn't need someone else to do it for me. I turned my hair every shade of red imaginable, from strawberry blonde to fire-engine red to so-red-it's-black (which was my hair color when I met Jake).

When I hit 25, I decided to go blonde, which really only meant light reddish, since (to my surprise, for some reason), it's nigh-on impossible to get red dye out of your hair. Then, at 27, I decided I would never-ever-ever dye my hair again, and instead, would be happy with myself the way I was born, and embrace being a brunette.

Then, I turned thirty. And I realized I like dying my hair; I like being a redhead. And so, back to red it was. I'm trying for the slow transition. I went from brunette to dark auburn to lighter auburn, and now, as I sit with my head marinating, it's even redder. And I feel more me.

Have I doomed my life to box after box of chemistry sets drying my hair out? Probably. Or, I'll do like my mom and highlight my way into graying "naturally." But, for now, I'm happy to be amongst the ranks of Rita Hayworth, Lucille (McGillicutty Ricardo) Ball, Molly Ringwald, Julianne Moore, and, my hair idol since the late nineties:

Willow Rosenberg.

The Anniversary Post

Ok, yes, our anniversary was yesterday. But I had a long day at work and then we went out to an amazing dinner, and so I didn't get to blog. So, forgive me...While I make you look at wedding pictures! (And review a new local restaurant.)

All after the jump...

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted...

And...we're off to Disney World! See you 'round Sunday! (Maybe sooner, if I can blog from the hotel room.)

Countdown to Thirty: Zero Hour!

That's right, folks: your intrepid blogger is officially thirty years old! As of 1:44 this afternoon! Mom and dad have been called and thanked.

It's been a great day so far. I've been doing essentially nothing, which I don't get to do a whole lot of. Later, I'll be seeing SOOS Sr.'s original play Eulogy. Then, back home for a fantastic meal by my favorite home chef.

Right now, I'm watching Sixteen Candles. No one's forgotten my birthday (geez, the celebration's already been going for over a week), and there will be no panty-showings at any school dances today. But I will be having cake with a great guy named Jake! Just like Samantha Baker's sweet sixteen, I don't see any physical changes--not that I would know what that would look like at thirty; Samantha was expecting something very definite in the area of her chest--and to be fair, I don't really feel any differently than I did yesterday at 29.

But there's a sense of pride that goes with knowing...something...I'm not sure what. That (thank god) I'm not a teenager any more? That (thank god) I'm closer to figuring out who I am than I ever have been before? That (thank god) I'm happier with where I am in my life than I was ten years ago?

Whatever it is, it's pretty good.

Countdown to Thirty: Two Days

Two days to go. Whoo! Went to the SOOS Sr. dress rehearsal last night, and the students (with the attendant adults) did a fantastic job. Can't wait to see it again on Sunday. It was a great way to achieve yesterday's goal: when I see a show I helped develop, it makes me recognize the artistry in collaboration and dramaturgy. I'm going to see Sing and Never Tire, another play I worked on, tomorrow night.

So, on to today's grown-up goal: be okay with walking away. I've been crossing items off of my to-do list at work, and it's seriously satisfying to see all of those "X"es. But there comes a time when one has to erase the completed items and add new ones. When I get to work today, I'll be faced with everything I have to get done by close of business today...or it won't get done for another week! There are a few items I'll be okay with leaving until I get back from vacation. I just have to figure out what they are.

With visions of Disney World (and the great birthday dinner Jake is going to make on Sunday) dancing in my head, it'll be difficult to get anything done today! But I have eight (who am I kidding? Nine) hours to work today, and I will be okay with walking out the door for a week when I leave this afternoon.

Countdown to Thirty: Three Days

Three days left of my youth (ha! Just kidding), and I'm having a pretty good week so far. My grown-up goal for the day: recognize and appreciate myself as an artist, not just an administrator.

A year or so ago, when looking at my CV, one of my teaching-artists said, "You know, I think of you as an administrator, but you only have, like, two admin jobs on here. The rest of them are teaching or artistic." Well, yeah!

It's difficult sometimes to call myself an artist. Like so many other artists, I make my money with a day job--unlike so many other artists, my day job is actually in the arts, in my field, and I love it. Like so many other artists, I create, usually in collaboration with others--unlike so many other artists, my creations sometimes live in the worlds of research and criticism. I've found that as a dramaturg, it's hard to recognize myself as an artist sometimes, preferring instead the term "grown-up theatre geek." I have to recognize that what I do is, indeed, an art.

During the summer, my colleagues at work and I get to focus more on artistic pursuits, since there are so many actual student shows going up than during the school year. My party line is that it would be easier for me to go after a position if I were a director or a choreographer or something like that. I could say, "Hey, Guys and Dolls! I'd like to direct that!" or something to that effect, and get my artistic fulfillment that way. But I'm a writer, which is a bit harder to go after. Fortunately, I have the opportunity to write a script once a year, and I have a great time with it. I'm more than satisfied having an admin position if I also get that part of me fulfilled, and I recognize how lucky I am that I do get that.

Last night, I had a training session to become a script reader for a local company I love. This evening is my mid-semester observation for the Creative Drama class I teach. Tonight, I'm going to the dress rehearsal for a student show I dramaturged (and going to the closing night on my birthday). This weekend, I'll go to the most recent grown-up show I dramaturged. And through it all, I'll happily do my administrative work (which, being the spreadsheet queen I am, and getting to work at a theatre with some great people, I'm more than happy with). I do love what I do.

Countdown to Thirty: Four Days

Four more days until I turn thirty. Grown-up goal for the day: focus on prioritizing, both small things and larger things.

I'm going on vacation next week with Jake and my mom and dad. Mom's birthday is exactly two weeks before mine, and so we're taking the opportunity to celebrate big. In Disney World! I'm super excited.

I'll be happy not to have to think about anything but family and fun for a week, but I'm also a workaholic. I love my job--it's not hard to in my position--but sometimes my efforts spill a little too much into my home life. I check my work email too much from home. I stress out about things at the theatre when I'm not there. But in my department, we all work on the weekends.

I realized yesterday that in order to leave the office for a week and have peace of mind about it, I actually have to finish things. And my checklist seems like a mile long. (In reality, it only takes up a white board.) I also have to realize that I have three days before I leave. That's plenty of time to finish what I need to, in a way that will be satisfactory to me. (I don't like to do things half-assed.)

I'm also thinking about all of the exciting opportunities that have presented themselves to me outside of my office. In the last year, I've started to freelance a little bit, and I'm loving being able to work with adults and develop new works of theatre. I'm still working on understanding scheduling and how to balance projects--a couple of weeks ago, it seemsed like I only saw Jake for five minutes in the whole week! But it's important to make connections with theatre companies, directors, and playwrights, in addition to reading new works and seeing as much theatre as possible. Being a Helen Hayes judge certainly helps with the last part. Getting your name and work known in the community is incredibly important in the beginning of a freelance career, especially when you're a dramaturg...because who the hell knows what that is? :)

This weekend, I spoke with a director about potentially working on a reading series, and I have a training today to be a script reader for The Inkwell. I've loved working with that company in the past, and I'm excited to read submissions for them. At the same time, it's important to spend some quality time with Jake every day, even if it's for a few minutes. We try to work it out so that he's doing homework while I'm doing work, but we're still trying to figure it out. We had a great time watching RuPaul's Drag Race last night, and dinners together are a real pleasure we get to have almost every night. I also like to go out with friends...Go figure! :)

So, today: prioritize things that need to be done at work today, tomorrow, and Friday, and think about future gigs.

Countdown to Thirty: Five Days

Goal for the day: think about who I was at twenty, and who I've become since then.

Last night, I found a book called The Bad Girl's Guide to Getting What You Want in our apartment. The book was in a cardboard box that lives on our floor and positively overflows with books we're going to give away someday. I haven't looked at it in years, and figured I'd give it a nostalgic shot. Three pages in, and I was laughing out loud.

The book is a self-help manual written to help a woman find her "inner bad girl" and be unashamed about finding what she wants and getting it. It's the most nineties-est thing I've seen in a long time, full of sentences like:

"At every age, being a girl rocks. It's your ace in the hole, your backstage pass, your automatic first-class update. Being a girl is what makes you who you are. It's your power source, your secret sauce, and your *69."

You can imagine Ally McBeal reading this book. You can imagine an episode of Friends centering around Rachel finding this book and trying to put its advice into practice. You can imagine Riot Grrls everywhere snorting and rolling their eyes in their Doc Martens as they turn the volume up on their Walkmen and blast their L7.

I turned to the copyright page and saw that the publication date was 2000--written in the heart of the 90s, and finally making it to bookshelves in the last year of the millennium. Which makes it the perfect jumping-off point for thinking about who I was at twenty, when I bought the book, and who I've become since then. (In convenient lists of ten items!)

When I was twenty, I...

1. was a junior/senior in college.
2. thought I wanted to be an actor when I grew up.
3. had already danced with Jake for the first time (although we wouldn't really date for another 4 years).
4. had been to Paris, London (where I lived for 2.5 months), Ireland, and Wales.
5. worked at a paint-your-own-pottery store.
6. had taught classes in Commedia dell'Arte, improv, and creative writing.
7. watched Friends and Seinfeld every Thursday night.
8. had only ever dated one guy.
9. had sent my first full-length play to a festival and gotten a very kind rejection letter. (My play was seriously overwritten: Joan of Arc--speaking only lines from Henry V--coaches a woman towards fighting her abusive boyfriend with a metaphorical sword. What the hell was I thinking?)
10. was not comfortable with myself--either my intellect or my body.

In the last ten years, I...

1. have gotten my BA in theatre and my MA in theatre history & criticism.
2. realized that my passion lies in writing and research.
   
3. married Jake. :)
4. have been to Italy and Greece, and make frequent trips to California and New York (both the city and western NY).
5. have had a lot of jobs (from teaching preschool to bartending to running a tutoring center), and have learned from all of them.
6. got a job that actually uses my two theatre degrees! And get health insurance doing it!
7. have evolved with NBC's Thursday night line-up. And faithfully watch Lost every Tuesday.
   
8. have had my share of dates and boyfriends, and am incredibly happy to have ended up where I did, with whom I did.
9. have written plays for the summer camp I run, and learned how to guide other playwrights' new plays through the writing and production process.
10. have become increasingly happy with myself: comfortable with my intellect and my body (I embrace "sexy librarian")

I've also learned to run, actually eat my vegetables, and have a cat! I still have a lot to learn--I'm only turning thirty, for goodness' sake!--but I've come so far since I was twenty. There are things I need to work on to be sure. But I am happy with where I am right now, and happy to continue with the journey.

Wow, that got sappy fast. Let me close with another quote from the introduction to The Bad Girls' Guide to Getting What You Want:

"Once you light your badness fuse, you'll start to hear the muse--that sassy little voice inside your head reminding you to go for it, trust your instincts, and find the G-spot of your own life."

(Really? Really?)

Countdown to Thirty: Six Days

The countdown begins! Six days to the big three-oh. Goal for today: maintain an illusion of awake-ness. (It remains to be seen whether that'll be easier or harder since my boss was at the same Oscar party as me. He did leave an hour before I did, though...)

Thirty and Fabulous

I have decided to fulfill the title and mission statement of this blog by going forward and turning thirty. I know what you're saying: "But, our dear, sweet blogger! You look far too young to be reaching such a milestone. Also, don't you know that thirty sucks, as evidenced by the lollipops on the bar at Hollie's birthday party?"

And to that, I say, "Oh, hush, you!"

I am seriously excited about turning thirty. I promised myself that when I hit that milestone, I would stop using my age as an excuse for anything. No more, "I'm too young to..." (fill in the blanks: ask for a raise, market myself as a freelance dramaturg, negotiate a contract, get published, and so on). The celebration starts tonight with a party, and the official countdown starts at midnight. I'll be thirty exactly a week from tomorrow. But since people started wishing me a happy birthday yesterday afternoon, I've decided to start calling myself thirty already.

I think this is going to be a very good year.

Meet...Me!

What better time to start a blog than the fourth day snowed-in due to Snowpocalypse 2: Beyond Thundersnowme? To be honest, I've been thinking about starting a new blog for a while, even had a title stored in my head, just waiting to be used. And so, here it is. I'm doing it!

Ten things you need to know about me as we shove off on this blogging adventure:

1. I'm turning 30 next month.
2. I am super excited to turn 30.
3. I'm coming to terms with the idea that this is what it's like to be an adult.
4. I work at a children's theatre as my full-time paying job.
5. Out-of-work-time (and sometimes during work), I am a dramaturg. That means "professional theatre geek" in German.
6. I'm also a Mary Kay personal beauty consultant. My little way to beautify the world. :)
7. I technically live in the suburbs, although it takes me five minutes to walk to DC. And I feel more urban living where I do now than I did in my last DC apartment.
8. I'm an outspoken third-wave feminist.
9. My husband is a grad student who studies political science. I love him with all my heart.
10. We have a very adorable cat.

So, that's me in a nutshell. Thanks for reading!