It'll always be perfect, but we didn't get to live it.

My yesterday was completely hellacious. Long story short: drove all over town all day looking for an outfit for an event this week and found nothing; had my car scratched up by a churchgoing Lexus-driving idiot in Toluca Lake; etc. So in lieu of a real entry today (because I'm still looking for something to wear on this stupid red carpet), some lyrics from my current favorite songs:

Sleepwalker - The Wallflowers
Maybe I could be the one they adore
That could be my reputation
It's where I'm from that lets them think I'm a whore
I'm an educated virgin
Sleepwalker, don't be shy
Now don't open your eyes tonight
You'll be the one that defends my life

While I'm dead asleep dreamin'

Naturally - Middle Distance Runner
'Cause lovin' is not something that I find comes to me naturally
But sometimes lovin' is all I can do to keep myself together through the week

Elvis Ain't Dead - Scouting for Girls
But I wish it was me you chose
I wish it was me you chose
I wish it was me you chose
I wish it was me you chose
cause Elvis ain't dead
and you're coming back
cause Elvis ain't dead
and you're coming back

Being Agent 99.

All right. I think it's time for a new style post.

As some of you reading this blog may have garnered, I am an actor. Due to the slow nature of the business as of late, I recently returned to doing theatre in order to stay loose and creatively fulfilled (in addition to taking my normal acting classes, which are a challenge in and of themselves, but that's another story). My latest show, which closed two weeks ago today, was a production of Get Smart, an adaption of the classic 1960s TV show. It was a fantastic production on so many levels - great source material, a very talented cast, a fantastic director, etc. And one
of the elements that I enjoyed most about doing the show were my costumes.

For those of you unfamiliar with Get Smart (or for those of you who have only seen the funny but incomparable 2008 film), The show itself focused on the exploits of CONTROL's Agents 86, Maxwell Smart (played with spot-on comedic relish by the excellent Don Adams) and 99 (Barbara Feldon). For many, Agent 99 was perhaps the ultimate modern career woman of the 1960s, proving that women in high-ranking positions could be both beautiful and capable, and her wardrobe reflected this, consisting primarily of shift dresses and gorgeous skirt-blouse combos. (Since Feldon, a former model, was in fact taller than her costar Adams, 99 was never seen in heels.)

The 2008 movie adaption, which starred Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway as Max and 99, updated the show for its modern setting. The film's wardrobe showcased Hathaway's athletic figure with many a little black dress, while paying homage to the original show with an impressive array of sleek trenches and Chanel bags.

Our production, meanwhile, fell somewhere in the middle. While Feldon and Hathaway both embodied 99 as a leggy brunette, I'm a petite redhead. The director, Michael, did his best to combat the possible fallout from Mel Brooks enthusiasts by outfitting me in classy monochrome shifts (one of them authentically from the 60s - I wish I had decent pictures of it!) and black pumps. I'm a huge appreciator of the 60s and the style it brought, and recently, upon finding this dress during one of my shopping excursions, had to buy it:

Simple, yes. But I can't help thinking that 99 would approve.

They made a statue of us.

We all have our "us-es," you know? The ones that are just us. These are two of my closest us-es. There are friends that when you see them, you feel known. Not in the biblical sense, but in the connected.

If I didn't have my "us", I'd be lost. I know a lot of people. I like a lot of people.

But only a few of them are my center circle - my rocks - my us.

Here are two: Chasidy and Emily.

PS. Sorry for the sporadic nature of my blog posts as of lately. Life's been slightly nutburgers on my end.

PPS. Go see 17 Again, even if Efron flicks aren't your deal. One of my friends has a pretty substantial role in it, and Hunter Parrish is a dreamboat in his own right.

Recipe for success?

If I could write like
act like
talk politics like
and look like
I'm pretty sure I'd be the happiest person on the face of the earth.


But something else would probably suck instead, so oh well.