Saturday, December 24, 2011

'Twas The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all though the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; (Ok, so it is highly likely there is a mouse or 2 in the basement.)
The stockings were hung by the chimney grate with care, (Cause we don't have a chimney, Santa uses the door.)
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads; (And thankfully not mine, because I am so done with anything related to Nutcracker.)
And mamma in her sweat pants, and I in my boxers,
Had just passed out on the couch at 8:30 pm for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. (Because if it is was the septic system that just got fixed I would be pissed.)
Away to the window I flew like a flash, (Tripped over the twit and twat in the process.)
Tore open the curtains and threw up the blinds.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, (huh?)
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny chickens, (What, like you thought I would actually say reindeer? At least chickens can fly.)

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, (hum....wonder if the fat man wants to learn how to drive a plow truck?)
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his chickens they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, (Cause we still haven't done a fall clean up at our house.)
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, (Down here guys, remember no chimney.)
With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. (Wow, those chickens sure ate their Wheeties this morning!)

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the porch
The pecking and scratching of each little claw.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Through the front door St. Nicholas came with a bound. (So help me if he wakes up India)

He was dressed in all fur, from his head to his foot, (PETA is coming!  PETA is coming!)
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; (Damn it I just mopped the floors!)
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. (So I thought to myself, where the hell are we supposed to store all of that?)

His eyes- How they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! (Yo Santa, I have a facial cream from Nordstrom that could do wonders for that.)
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the bead of his chin was as white as the snow; (Hey what do you know, Dave's is too!)

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; (Febreeze, where is my can of Febreeze?)
He had a broad face and a lithe round belly
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. (Just like me!)

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; (It's ok, I laugh at myself all the time.)
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, (Dirty old man. But hey these days, I ain't complaining.  I'll take what I can get.)
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; (Which is good, because I had to quit watching CSI for that very reason.)

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose, (Santa please don't farmer's blow in the house, I'll get you a tissue.)
And giving a nod, out the door he closed;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, (Trust me, they would come much quicker if you give them a pancake or banana.)
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!
Us! :)

Monday, December 19, 2011

The Ethel Chronicles

For those of y'all who are my special friends on Facebook, you know that Ethel is the styrofoam wig holder that holds my Grandma wig from Nutcracker.  You also happen to know about the many escapades Ethel has gotten into this last week before we retired her last night after our final performance.

For those of you who are not on Facebook I thought I would share all of her shenanigans here in one big post complete with all of the descriptions from Facebook.  So sit back and follow along.  K.C. this one's for you.  As for the rest of you who are wondering why the hell I am referring to a styrofoam wig holder as Ethel, well....check back later this week and I might get my lazy butt together and attempt a Christmas card letter here on the blog.  If not, don't be surprised.

Before we check Ethel in on Sunday to the home for retired Victorian wigs (the prestigious Le Trash) we thought we'd get her out of the crowded theater dressing room for one last hurrah.  Be sure and check in throughout the week to see where in FOCO Ethel might be spotted next.  


On her way home from dropping the kids off at school, Ethel remembered the chickens were out of food.  However she is not quite sure how to get the 50lb bags up in there because she is kind of short. 

After picking up India later that day, Ethel decided she was hungry.  So we stopped for shrimp salads at La 

Ethel really wanted a donut from Lamar's next door instead, but sadly they closed at 1 pm.

This evening after tonight's Nutcracker show, Ethel ran into a couple of friends of hers across the street from the theater and insisted I help her say hi. 

Since Ethel isn't getting the workout like she used to during the Nutcracker, she decided to hop on a treadmill and "make it work."

So Ethel heard about the Colorado Eagles and thought it would be fun to check out some hockey guys.  

So after visiting the Budweiser event center, Ethel decided she was craving a beer.  So, we trucked it over to New Belgium.

Things were all fun and games until she passed out in the trunk amongst all the new beer flavors.  Damn Ethel!  You are such a lush.  

And so after the last show Ethel and her new haircut settled down for a long Winter's nap with visions of Sugar Plum Fairies dancing in her (lack thereof) brain.  

Came home to this today.  3 words: 1. Dipshit  2. Dingo  3. Dog!  Not sure why the mouth???  It is official.  Ethel has now checked into Le Trash along with all of her feathers and a roll of toilet paper for good measure.  

R.I.P. Ethel It was real while it lasted. 

Monday, December 12, 2011

Nutcracker 2011

Ok, just warning you, I am not Ansel Adams.  All of the photos are from my phone.  Just pretend the dark and blurry ones were taken from some Hipstamatic app or something cool like that.

On the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

12 pairs of eyelashes
All of the junk it takes to make me into Grandma each night
On the 11th day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

11 shows!

Ok, I'm done being creative and out of numbers.  Here are just the pics.
Practice tutus
Snow rehearsal in studio
Rat King head
What old ladies wear to rehearsal
What I look like before the wrinkles.
Well, the drawn on ones at least.
The new "lounge" backstage at the Lincoln Center.
All those doors are separate dressing rooms  
Snow headpieces and tiaras 
Pointe shoes
In the wings for warm up w/out backdrops and curtains
View from the orchestra pit
Nutcrackers for sale
The house 
View from the house of dancers on stage during warm up 
Nutcracker head
Our dressing room and Ethel the Grandma head
The robe back (I added Giselle)
The robe front
Grandma after her wrinkles and pearls
Ethel and Herman before all is said and done

If you scroll back up to the close up shot of me, you will notice I had to draw a widow's peak on my forehead because the wig didn't fit right, and it kept slipping backwards.  It took till Sunday night to realize the Costume Mistress had styled the wig upside down.  Would have been good to know 6 shows and 2 dress rehearsals ago. So with 3 hrs to sit around between shows, we flipped the nasty ol' wig right side up, adjusted my feathers, and now it sits lower on my head.  Grandma Ethel now looks proper. proper as a drunk old lady can look.   

Thanks to everyone who came and saw the shows.  It was much appreciated!  

And thanks to Greg for the last picture actually taken with a real camera.  Too bad about the damn wig.  Oh well there is always Loveland.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

The correct answer

And the award for destruction of the tree goes to India!!

In case you were wondering, that is a blue footed booby she is carrying.  She carries it everywhere and just says booby booby.  I suppose some people probably think I am still breastfeeding her.  Wouldn't that be just a bag of fun?!   

Surprisingly the dipshit dingo dog has not wanted a piece of the tree.  Yet....I am not convinced when the presents come out he won't poop purple twinkles in excitement.

I am headed to a full day of Nutcracker rehearsals.  One of our last at the studio.  It snowed about 4 inches last night and Dave is plowing plowing plowing, so my parents are taking the girls to Macy's to get cards to write to Santa while I get my Granny on.

As I was loading up the kindle last night with some books to read as I sit around and wait during rehearsals, I started to think y'all might like to see some pictures of everything going on at rehearsal and the theater and how it all goes down instead???   Now, I know most of you see Greg's photos on Facebook, but for those you who don't know who Greg is (besides my ballet husband) and are affiliated with me because you know what actually goes in Finadene (sp?) sauce, and know where Crowley really is, I thought this might be a good way for me to pass the time, while I was wishing I was doing Snow corps, or Chinese. (ok maybe not missing, but def. missing the exercise) Sorry guys, there will be no naked boobies.

Except for India's blue one!

XOXO, me.  more pics to come.