Weekend update

I rarely use my blog as a forum to merely recap my activities (I like to kid myself by thinking people who don't know me might enjoy reading this), but sometimes, a weekend is so epic that it merits some 'logues love. This past weekend involved celebrity sightings, trips to two cities where I used to live, and a lot of singing women.

On Friday, I took the bus to New York City. The purpose of my 16-hour visit was to see "Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson" at the Public, directed by my friend from college, Alex Timbers. Alex is pretty much a celebrity now in his own right -- when the New York Times profiles you and describes your show as "devastatingly shrewd," you've pretty much made it. (Though my personal favorite description of Alex came from performer/writer Mike Daisey, who described him as "a cross between Jesus Christ and Ashton Kutcher"). I had the pleasure of being directed by Alex back in 2006, when I played a roofied-and-raped suicidal rave girl in Hell House:


Another sign that you've hit the big time? When STEVE MARTIN comes to your show. That's right, I saw Steve motherf*cking Martin on Friday night. I walked past him on the way to the ladies' room at the Public. We locked eyes and I gave him my best "I know who you are but I'm going to be cool about it and not say anything or ask for your autograph" smile and he responded with a relieved "I know you know who I am and thank you for not making a scene" expression. We had a moment, it was nice.

The show is incredible -- definitely check it out if you're in the New York vicinity between now and May 9th. I mean, it's an emo-rock musical about Andrew Jackson and the Populism movement. What's not to love?

After the play, I went to a fundraising party for an indie film some friends of mine are involved with. And who walks into the party just after midnight but Zachary Quinto, a.k.a. Spock from the new Star Trek movie (or Sylar, if you watch Heroes). Now, keep in mind, when I lived in New York, I never saw famous people. Apparently, they don't ride the G train or frequent the midtown Kaplan center. So seeing two in one night was pretty nifty. ZQ was very affable and charming, btw.

So that was Friday night. Saturday morning I boarded a Metro North train bound for New Haven. Now, a lot of people hate on New Haven -- sure, it's a little ghetto and not as shiny and gentrified as, say, Cambridge, but I still love it. I came back to celebrate the 40th anniversary of The New Blue, Yale's oldest women's a cappella group, which was founded in 1969, the first year of coeducation at Yale. New Blue is actually the oldest women's organization of any kind at Yale. And I was lucky enough to be a member, from 1999-2003.

At the reunion, I met women from the original class of New Blue and it was incredibly moving. There was a lot of singing, hugging, and crying. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing there's really no way to describe what I felt singing alongside true pioneers, the first women to graduate from Yale. It sounds cheesy, but they paved the way. And being in a room full of strong, powerful, beautiful, smart women is an experience I can't really put into words.


At one point during reunion, we sang a song called "River of Birds." The lyrics are as follows: "There's a river of birds in migration, a nation of women with wings." Those simple lines are repeated, starting with one voice singing alone and slowly building until there are multiple harmonies and voices. While we were singing, one alum's four-year-old daughter ran up to the stage and started singing along. Not a dry eye in the place, trust me.

So that was my weekend. How was yours?

What a drag

Allow me to introduce my drag persona, just created with the Dragulator. Her name? Vagnino Dentata.

As you can see, she's totally fierce, not to mention well-accessorized with a hotdog and a dove. I have to admit, I'm a bit obsessed with drag queens. This obsession developed when I was cast in play alongside several of them: The Jack of Tarts, which played at La Mama in New York in February of 2008. In one scene, I had the pleasure of tap dancing with Lance Cruce, a veteran Village performer/queen. Check it out:

That's me on my knees on the right. Damn, my tits look great from that angle. But I digress.

I met a number of fabulous, fabulous people in that show. And it was easy to get friends to come see it because I'm fairly sure there won't be another opportunity to see me tap dance, much less with a drag queen.

I myself have technically been in drag on stage a number of times. Since I went to an all-girls camp as a kid, I played a number of men, such as the Butler in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and Kurt Von Trapp in The Sound of Music. I have also played male animals in children's shows (Mr. Tumnus in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; Mole in The Wind and the Willows). I was cast in these roles because I had short hair and no breasts. One of these is still true.

I think my affinity for drag queens can be partly explained by the fact that when I talk to myself, the inner voice that responds is that of a sassy gay man (Katie: "I'm so sad about my break-up"; Inner Voice: "Grrrrl, you know he couldn't find your clit with a map and a flashlight.") I'm not sure how normal this is -- I mean, everyone talks to themselves from time to time, but does everyone have an inner drag queen talking back?

Of course it follows that I LOVE the reality competition on Logo, RuPaul's Drag Race. It's "the search for the next drag superstar" and subtly satirizes both America's Next Top Model and Project Runway while also being wholly original and laugh-out-loud funny. Season 2 is down to the Final Four: Raven, Jujubee, Tatianna, and Tyra Sanchez (a.k.a. "The other Tyra"). I was devastated when my favorite, Pandora Boxx, was eliminated after having to Lip-Synch for her Life:

Sigh. I love you, Pandora. You were robbed. Call me, ok? We'll talk shit about Santino.

So now I'm rooting for Raven and Jujubee (who's from Boston!). Tyra is too much of a bitch and Tatianna's drag persona is not developed enough -- as one of my friends pointed out, she's more of a transvestite than a true queen. She makes a pretty girl, but doesn't really transform into her female character the same way the more experienced queens do.

Well, now that I've completely lost/alienated my straight male readership, I'll wrap this up with the same wise words RuPaul uses to close out every episode: "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?"

Can I get an amen, sister?

Sailor Man

It was bound to happen at one point or another, that I would use my blog for some shameless self-promotion. As Steven Guttenberg exuberantly shouts during the opening credits of the Village People faux bio-pic Can't Stop the Music, "my time is now!"

Friends, the NYC Fringe Festival is upon us. And I know, I know, most Fringe shows have about as much merit as Fred Thompson's bid for President. But there is one show that I can guarantee is worth checking out: Sailor Man. I did some PR and marketing for this show, and it's going to be truly excellent. Imagine live-action Popeye cartoons, done Tarrantino-style. Lots of blood and broken glass. And it's only 45 minutes long.

Check out these photos:















Don't fall into the trap of the gimmicky title-- I promise you that "Late-Term Abortion: The Musical!" is not nearly as sidesplitting as the press materials claim. *

Sailor Man is playing at the Lafayette Street Theater (45 Bleecker St) and opening night is Saturday, August 8th at 5:30 pm. The show runs until August 22. Get tickets now and BYO spinach. Toot toot!

*not an actual Fringe show