Filming Extravaganza II, or, The Mother of All Scenes

Wednesday, July 19th, 2006

Final day of filming for Extravaganza, including The Mother of All Scenes.

8:30 PM: Empathy belly construction.* Boiling bits of plastic baby in giant pot on gas stove in my kitchen. Room temperature exceeds 100 degrees farenheit.

Baby bits soften but do not melt. Plan to meld together baby bits aborted.

Plan to staple baby bits together using industrial staple gun briefly considered.

Decision made to purchase nude colored clothing to create empathy belly.

Boiled baby bits left floating in pot on stove.

9:00 PM: Beige/nude colored clothing apparently not in style. Camisoles of any color, especially beige/nude, apparently not in style.

9:10 PM: Discovery of seamless underpants exactly matching my skin tone that extend above the waist by atleast 7 inches in the Intimates section.



Loud discussion of how pregnant I can look in "slimming" underpants near dressing room before fitting.

9:30 PM: Loud discussion of underpants logistics in cashier's line.

Megan: . . . We can stuff some of the baby bits into the underwear and you'll still look pregnant!

Me: Megan, remember where you are.

Cashier: (look of utter bewilderment)

Megan: Oh. Sorry. I. Uh. I'd like to run this as credit, please. Thanks.

Cashier: Have fun with your baby bits.

10:30 PM: Baby bits stuffed down my underpants.

10:45 PM: Filming begins. One sequence shot over and over, as follows:

1. Sit in bathtub. Bob head back and forth humming "Three Blind Mice."

2. The Bohemian enters, prepares himself, preps for birth. Girl In a Green Dress: dress up, legs splayed out over either side of tub.

3. The Bohemian attempts to enduce natural birth, but is torn away by invisible forces.

4. Girl In a Blue Dress enters tub for C-Section.

5. Girls are horrified. I am ashamed.


Thursday, July 20th, 2006

12:30 AM: One shot to perform C-Section using real scalpel on empathy belly. Bits of batting pop out everywhere.

Gorify C-Section, batting, boiled baby bits and all.

And finally.

A TWO-HEADED, BUG-EYED BABY ERUPTS FROM MY STOMACH.** I am proud. My Dad flickers in the background.


This makes my exhaustion worthwhile. And remember, kids: this IS a comedy.





*This is the second time in two summers I have been fitted for an empathy belly.
**This is the second time in seven years that I have birthed a disfigured doll child in a show at the MAC. Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it.

Faulty Framework

Last summer, during warm-ups for There Is No More Firmament, I was not paying enough attention to where my feet were in proximity to someone elses feet, and as I shifted from a high level to a low one, I lost my balance and threw my head on the ground. I kept going, assuming that I would be just fine. An hour later, not only did my head hurt (concussed?), but I couldn't turn my head to the right. That's right: I'd given myself whiplash. I had to go to Lawrence to see my chiropractor the next day to right this painful wrong.

Today, with no amusing anecdote about my occassional lack of control over my body, I woke up in my mom's room* and, once again, could not turn my head to the right without seering pain. It's been long enough (almost exactly a year) since the last episode that I can't say whether this feels the same. I do know, however, that 1. I'm having trouble reaching behind my own frame on the right side (reaching the toilet paper should not take so long), 2. it took me two minutes to figure out how to get up from lying down sans pain, a prospect I eventually gave up, and 3. it is totally impossible for me to tip my head towards my right shoulder.

Now, this would be unfortunate enough as it's own little battle. However, this is the final week of rehearsal before tech week for Extravaganza. This is also the week I start rehearsing my solo piece. And this is the first week in eight years of selling fruit that I have been given more than 40 hours.

Someone find me a new body, STAT.



*I slept in the kitchen when I got home last night. It was still probably 90 degrees in the front room of my mom's apartment when I got home, so I decided to drag my sleeping mat into the kitchen, the only room with an air conditioner. When my mom got up for work, she asked me to go sleep in her room so that she could make breakfast.

Pipe down a minute, Chachi. You there: Explain yourself.

"Oh my gosh! I just realized how many boyfriends you have this summer!"

"Yeah, but that pretty one has a girlfriend and lives out of town. . ."

"Oh, but that's better!"

"And none of them know that we're in love."

"You're my hero."

One Word

Snaggletooth.

The Downside. . .

. . .of shooting at an abandoned house surrounded by tall grass: the entire lower half of my body is covered in extremely itchy chigger bites. AHHHHH!!! Not a pretty sight.

Filming Extravaganza

We've been filming various video elements for Extravaganza in Scene Seven, and I have gotten to do all of the following things:

1. Have tea in a bathtub with Charlie at sunrise.

2. Pretend to be hit by a car on a dirt road.

3. Slow dance in a bathtub with Charlie in the blaze of the afternoon.

4. Brawl in slow motion with eight other people, including my father.

5. Fondle a noose.

6. Die a painful, drooling death by poison-filled syringe.

7. Bang on an abandoned, falling down house until my hands were stained white from the paint.

I love my life.

Also, I just had carrots and tuna straight from the can for dinner. It seemed more efficient than trying to make something out of what I had in the kitchen, not to mention I was ravenous the moment I walked in the door. Classy lady.

The Saddest Kind of Irony

Kevin's parents didn't want him to have his Honda Accord in Chicago due to the high crime rate. He didn't want to fly because he wanted to bring his collection of musical instruments with him. So I threw caution to the wind, and went with him to Chicago on Sunday in his car so that he could take his stuff, spent half a day enjoying Dawn's backyard, seeing Millenium park, meeting the infamous marvelous roommate. and overeating, then drove the car back from Illinois by myself in time to make it to work at three yesterday.

I asked if it would be okay if I took the car back tonight, since I had quite a few places I had to be today. I ended up extending that deadline until tomorrow morning.

This evening, SOME FUCKER THREW A ROCK THROUGH KEVIN'S WINDOW in the parking lot of the high school, where I had to be to shoot scenes for Megan's play. Smashed the whole thing. Stole a tiny bag out the backseat. They also stole stuff from the surrounding cars. I had to call Kevin's parents and tell them about this.

"But that was why we had you drive the car back from Chicago."

I'm waiting for the part where I stop feeling like shit and this turns into a bizarre story that I can tell like it happened to someone else. Kevin's parents were nice to me, but angry with him. Kevin told me not be upset, but I wish that he were here to tell me that in person, which he can't because he's in Chicago, which is what started this mess in the first place. DAMN IT ALL.

At least no one got hurt, right?

I'm going to bed.