RAINBOWS AND LOLLIPOPS by Dave Goss (to be directed by Rebecca Langguth)

THE TRIBUTE by Rebecca Langguth (to be directed by Amanda Rountree)

Both one-acts will be performed at the Zoo Studios in Ravenswood from July 26th – Aug 17th!  More details on the show (and auditions for both plays) will be out soon!

I succeeded in my goal.  I was victorious.  So, yes.  Yes, it was worth it.

But before we get into the details of the Great Pantsing Incident of 2012, let’s pause for a moment and allow me to enlighten you on the unique nature of my gracefulness and agility.

I have three scars.  As everyone knows, a scar is a badge of bad-assery.  When you have a scar, it’s basically a sign you wear on your body that reads, “Ask me how I almost died.”

The first scar I ever got was from falling up the stairs.  Not down the stairs.  Up.  Any idiot can fall down stairs.  But when you fight gravity, that’s WINNING in a major way; that’s a scar that you can be proud of.

The second scar was acquired during a very messy bout with a formidable warrior.  But you know what they say, “You think I look bad?  You should see the bagel!”  Only one of us walked out of the kitchen that fateful evening.  And out of respect for a fight well fought, I honored my foe with a proper final resting place.

Shortly after the bagel occurrence, I saw a friend who had her hand bandaged up.  When I asked her what had happened she told me that she was holding half of an avocado, and to remove the pit had taken her knife and struck down to stab the pit and remove it.  Sadly the avocado slipped and the knife went into her hand.  When I listened to her story, what I heard was a new, bad-ass way to remove the pit from an avocado—because not only am I graceful, dear reader, I am also smart.  And that is how I got my third scar.  I guess avocados are familiar with this violent pit-removal and are skilled at jumping out of the way.  In hindsight, maybe I should have waited until after the confidence from the bagel victory wore off a bit.  A little more humility and I could’ve had that avocado!  (Side note:  Shortly after letting my mom know about this scuffle with the avocado, I received a little gift from her.  Did you know they have a specific kitchen tool for cutting, slicing, and pitting avocados?  It’s awesome!  There aren’t any sharp edges and to pit it, you’re basically using a scooping method…it’s really cool.   Well, I’m just letting you know in case you’re one of those people that isn’t into a thrill-ride when you’re making guacamole.  The lower the risk, the lower the reward.

Some moments in life call for low risk.  Some moments call for greater risk.  One just has to be in tune with the moment.  For example, when you are reclining on the couch and your boyfriend walks past you on his way to take a shower with his belt unfastened and the top button of his jeans undone, if you are truly in tune with the moment, you think to yourself, “ PPO!!!  PERFECT PANTSING OPPORTUNITY!”

If there are any readers out there who are unfamiliar with pantsing, please note that in this instance of turning a noun into a verb, one is not applying the object, but removing it.  Pantsing is to a person as pitting is to an avocado.

So, there I am, innocently lounging on the sofa.  But as soon as I have the idea, I leap up exuberantly from the couch and bound toward my boyfriend—who is now almost to the bathroom.  I have to make this quick because he’s about to go in.  And as good as I am at pantsing, I can’t do it to someone when there’s a locked door between us.  So I have to run—fast—across the apartment.  This is exactly what I do—quite well, I might add.  Just then, out of nowhere, comes this wall headed straight for me.  I instantly attempt to recalibrate my path and leap out of the way as best I can, but to no avail.  I am struck down and there is an unfamiliar and disconcerting pain in my foot.  I scream out in agony.  My boyfriend, despite still having his pants on, is a good man and with a look of worry and lots of confusion on his face, approaches me, asking,  “What happened?!”  This is when I know that all is not lost.  Undeterred from my mission, I crawl on my arms and belly toward my unknowing victim.  Lying crushed at his feet, I gaze into his eyes and cry out in a last breath of triumphant resolve, “I’m gonna do what I came here to do…”

And yes, my friends, it is possible that one can look out on the landscape of this battlefield and see a soldier lying on her stomach with a broken toe and tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, but if one looks closely, one can also see another soldier.  And although he is standing, his pants are around his ankles.

It sounds like a poem

But it’s not

not yet

It was beautiful though….sort of like

Tennessee or Wisconsin in the Fall

but way more exotic.

Upon waking, I was glad that my subconscious did not call it Myanmar

but wondered

Can sleeping thoughts help the progress of human rights?

Let’s hope.

Because what have I really done in my waking life?

I was with my LoverHealer and he thought it would be good for me to go to

Burma in the Fall

and who am I to disagree

It worked.  I felt LovedHealed

It was beautiful,

dreaming of Burma in the Fall

It sounds like a poem

and it is

All of the information coming out as this case is being covered on the news has left me with a combination of sadness for these women and the life-long trauma they will face; disgust and disbelief about the perpetrator of these heinous crimes; guilt for just wanting to hear some good news; gratitude for my own safety and the safety of my loved ones; and hope for the future that we fill find ways to stop the cycles of abuse.

There is a lot more to be written on these subjects.  But I’m not going to do it.  Not now.  I’m too exhausted from the news.  I just want to hug my loved ones and send out loving and healing wishes to all those who need it.  Which is everyone.  All of us.

Be good to each other.  Look out for each other.

The Chicago Reader says, “Amanda Rountree is a riot!”  Audience members have described the show as “inspiring,” “funny,” “beautiful,” and “a must-see!“  The Chicagoist picked this show as one of their “three to see.”  Click here to watch a trailer for the show.  You can also click here to read a review of the show.

185 Buddhas Walk into a Bar
Written and performed by Amanda Rountree, directed by Jen Ellison
Bunbury Theatre in the Henry Clay building
604 S. Third Street
Louisville, KY
$14
Saturday, September 7, 8pm

185 Buddhas Walk into a Bar
The art of improvisation creates stories from thin air, making the unseen seen. For Amanda Rountree, this is not just an art form, but a way of life — one that includes unexpected twists and turns — leading, if not to mastery, to enlightenment.  Written and performed by Amanda Rountree, and directed by Jen Ellison, this show follows the artist on her path with all of the funny and touching moments along the way.

That’s not all, you guys.  There is some green stuff coming out of the ground too.  That’s right.  GREEN STUFF IS GROWING RIGHT OUT OF THE FUCKING GROUND!  And when it comes up and out, it’s not done growing!  Gorgeous, colorful shit called FLOWERS are going to keep growing on those beautiful green stems.  AND THEY SMELL WONDERFUL!

I don’t mean to alarm you or yell at you too much, BUT YOU NEED TO GET YOUR BUTT OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW AND SMELL THE AIR AND WALK IN THE GRASS AND LOOK AT THE TREES!   Seriously.  GO OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW AND HUG A FUCKING TREE.  You’ll thank me later.  And if you don’t, that’s okay.  I don’t fucking care.  I’m so fucking happy that it’s spring outside.

Chicago actually had a winter this year–which means we all died a little bit in our soul.  But not the year before that.  The year before that, our winter was so lame, that we never felt dead inside.  I almost missed feeling dead inside.  Because when you are beat down so much by a long, cold, relentless winter, it feels amazing to have spring breeze in and rescue you.  Because spring comes in and says, “Guess what!  You’re not dead inside!  Your spirit was just sleeping!”  And just like that, YOU ARE RESURRECTED!  All of a sudden, every single religious and mythical tale about resurrection makes sense.  THEY ARE ABOUT SPRING, YOU GUYS!  They are about how you are now saved!  YOUR SOUL IS BACK!  IT NEVER REALLY LEFT YOU.  It just felt like it was gone.  But now–now, you have a new life.  And this life is fucking beautiful.  Your skin can be exposed to the outside air and not hate you for it.  It will love you for it.  You walk outside and suddenly, everything is beautiful, you’re in love with everything, and you suddenly understand how someone could write a whole fucking poem about a blade of grass.

GET OUTSIDE, YOU GUYS!  I LOVE YOU!  I LOVE ALL OF THIS!  WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!

weird to walk into a bar alone with a girl has a squishy thing

Awesome.

On a related note….  Ladies, please, for your own safety, ALWAYS bring your squishy thing with you when you are out on the town alone.  Yes, it’s true that some guys will find it weird, but first and foremost, it’s best to be protected.

Here is the little closing ritual I lead at the end of many classes.  But I discovered that I can do this any time.  I share it here in hopes it can bring others joy.

Place one hand on your belly and one hand on your heart.  Feel your heart beating and your belly moving every time you take a nice, deep breath.  Think of one thing you did today that you feel good about.  Put it in your heart.  Take a deep breath in and out.  Think of something someone else did today that you enjoyed or that you were delighted by or grateful for.  Hold it in your heart.  Take a deep breath in and out.  Finally, think of something you did today with another person or people–something that you were a part of–something you helped create.  Put it in your heart.  Take a deep breath in and out.

This is an easy way to reflect and it doesn’t take much time at all to do.  But I’m always a little happier afterward.

One cannot do a solo show alone!
Thanks to everyone who helped me!

In addition to all of these people on my list of “Who To Thank” I add every single audience member who carved out a bit of time on their schedule to see the show.  Life is busy and it can be hard to make time to see a bit of art on a Thursday night.  So I’m grateful and honored for everyone who took the time and came out.  Beyond that, I again thank the audience members who were generous enough with their enjoyment of the show to tell me (an actor’s ego thanks you for that) and to tell others.  I had quite a few audience members over the run who had heard about the show because someone they knew saw it, loved it, and suggested it.  And let me tell you, it certainly gives a performer a warm fuzzy feeling to look out into the audience and see so many familiar faces!  Yet it gives the same performer another type of joy to look out into that crowd and realize she doesn’t recognize every single face; that there are people who came–not because they’re supporting their friend–but they just want to see a good show, and heard that this was one.

I hope I gave everyone–friends and strangers–a good show.