Hahahaha! Thanks, T...

Desha - a gallon of confidence - a scoop of sensitivity - a pound of seduction Serve hot.

'What is your personality recipe?' at QuizGalaxy.com

I love that I'm described in gallons and pounds.
Good Lord.

On my mother's upcoming wedding...

On Sunday, my 4-year-old nephew, Rhett, said to us, verbatim:

"Nana will be a pretty girl, and Mom will wear a beautiful, blue dress and be a pretty girl and Ande will be a maid and Mom will be a maid and Emmie will be a flower girl and Daddy will be a pastor and I will be the ring-master and wear a black suit with white in the middle and we will all have a lovely time."

New Resolution

It's funny how in the last few months something will happen and I'll think, "I have to remember to blog this," as if I do it on a regular, unwavering basis. However, the brilliant people in my life continue to inspire me, so I thought I would rejoin the blogging world as it were, and share the record-worthy moments as they happen.

This past weekend, for instance: unexpectedly lovely memories arose out of seemingly-ordinary events.

Saturday night, I baby-sat for my darling niece and nephew. Now, t knows how much I adore her children, but she also knows how energetic and feisty they can be (ask her about the trip to the Gap in Carlsbad this summer). I prepared myself for an evening of running, jumping, animal-throwing, and possible-screaming-because-someone-got-tackled-and-accidentally-kicked-in-the-face-and-guess-what?-it's time-for-everyone-to-go-to-bed-now-because-Ande-has-had-it-up-to-here.

Y'know. One of those kind of nights.

Prior to coming to that beautiful house, I stopped at Michael's to pick up a craft for Rhett and I to do. I purchased a do-it-yourself Halloween-themed gingerbread house complete with orange and black frosting, candy corn, gum-drops, the works.

What a blast! Rhett, and Emmie, I might add, decorated that thing for hours. Each child (quietly!) worked on their own side of the house, organized the decorations, helped make the frosting, and then cleaned up and went to bed without complaint! Actually, while I put Emmie down to sleep, Rhett cleaned up the whole table and cleared everything up. During our time together, Rhett told me stories about animals and Mom and Dad and Emmie and Mickey Mouse and The Jungle Book, while Emmie would hurl herself at me, frosting-spattered mouth and arms, open wide. Somewhere, in-between Emmie's sugary kisses and Rhett's, "I love you, Ande, are you coming tomorrow?" I felt so blessed that God would give me such a perfect oasis of love in the middle of this chaotic life.

I (uncharacteristically) forgot my camera, so I took a phone-picture. It doesn't do the moment justice, but I think the idea comes through.


Fast-forward to early Sunday morning. Those of you who know me well know that, like most theatre-people, I am not a morning person. If the world began at noon everyday I would be a happy, happy individual. Couple that with my unfortunate apathy toward exercise and one would soon realize how unenthusiastic I was about leading a group of dramatic teenagers in the Diabetes Walk at 8am. Never mind that it was for an absolutely legitimate cause; I didn't want to go. Nevertheless, at 6:30am, I dragged my disgruntled, Starbucks-deprived body ( I am so put-upon) out of the house to meet 15 hyped-up adolescents in La Jolla.

Imagine my surprise when, over the course of the morning, I realized I was having a fantastic time. I was amazed and inspired by the thousands of people who donated countless hours and dollars to help eradicate diabetes. The kids were wonderful. Their enthusiasm and humor kept the energy up, and we talked, ran, laughed, and danced our way through the 5k. Thank You, Lord, for this unexpected blessing.

I'm going to attempt to post some pictures of the walk. Stand back. Someone could get hurt.



Before take-off






Remembering why we're here




This is the attitude I thought I was going to get



This is what I got instead



These kids are awesome...



...and loving...








...sometimes too much.
















LOVE IT!

Look! Part of my fifteen minutes!

News | San Diego

Alumni to participate in annual fundraiser

By Jenna Colley

UNION-TRIBUNE

August 10, 2007

SAN DIEGO – The lead actress's father negotiated through the packed crowd buzzing around the Casa del Prado Theatre lobby during intermission.

PEGGY PEATTIE / Union-Tribune Rachel Liuzzi, 15, put together her costume before performing Tuesday in the musical "Grease." San Diego Junior Theatre will celebrate its 60th anniversary tomorrow.

“This is awesome,” Rob Butterfield said, surveying last Friday night's turnout for the San Diego Junior Theatre's summer production of “Grease.”

This isn't just any kids' theater. Alumni include Raquel Welch, Dennis Hopper, Tony Award-winning actor Brian Stokes Mitchell and Lou Romano, the voice of Linguini in Pixar's current hit “Ratatouille.”

Tomorrow night, the theater will celebrate its 60th anniversary with a potpourri of performances at Casa del Prado. The show will spotlight some of the theater's alumni, a first for the organization.

Founded in 1948 as a program of the Old Globe Theatre, the company has operated out of Balboa Park's Casa del Prado since 1971 and calls itself the country's oldest continuing children's theater.

DETAILS San Diego Junior Theatre 60th Anniversary Celebration When: Tomorrow Reception: 6:30 to 7:30 p.m. at the Museum of San Diego History, Casa del Balboa Performance: 8 p.m. at Casa del Prado Theatre, Balboa Park, with dessert and coffee afterward Admission: $25 for show and dessert; $40 for all events Information: (619) 239-8355; www.juniortheatre.com

Local actor Ole Kittleson starred in the company's first production. Later he directed countless shows for the company and served for two years as president of its board of directors.

“This city is producing a plethora of students that go on to perform,” said Kittleson, who regularly reunites with cast members who starred alongside him six decades ago. “So many students have had the opportunity to do bigger, better things.”

Aside from staging 13 productions annually, the nonprofit also offers classes and camps in Balboa Park, La Jolla and Chula Vista. The company gets 70 percent of its income from productions and programs.

The heart of the theater's operations remains in Balboa Park.

On Monday morning, about 20 junior actors chosen to perform in an upcoming production of “The Jungle Book” fidgeted as they sat in the Roosevelt Middle School auditorium. The school, within walking distance of Casa del Prado, donates space to the organization each year.

Will Neblett, the theater's executive director, led each preteen through a musical number as the others struggled to stay seated.

PEGGY PEATTIE / Union-Tribune Phillip Bowen (center) sang "Greased Lightnin' " during a recent performance of "Grease." "This city is producing a plethora of students that go on to perform," veteran local actor Ole Kittleson said.

Everyone wanted to participate.

“Theater is collaborative,” said Desha Crownover, the general manager, who began teaching classes at the theater 11 years ago. She now hires staff, selects shows and oversees operations.

She also is the director of “Grease,” which has performances through Sunday.

“With a production like 'Grease,' you have 75 kids all working toward a common goal. They each have a specific job but they are not doing it by themselves. They have to contribute to this bigger community.”

Most junior theater participants never pursue acting careers, Crownover said. But the lessons they learned through their experiences with the company often extend far beyond stage direction or line memorization.

“There was this one student,” Crownover said, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “He was so painfully shy. But after he enrolled, he completely blossomed. They are so many kids like that.”

Then there are those like Butterfield's 18-year-old daughter, Jill.

“She aspires to be on Broadway,” said Butterfield, who had a button with a photo of Jill's face pinned to his jacket lapel. “She wants to win a Tony Award.”

Three steps forward, two steps...well, you know...

I unwisely drank a pot of milky green tea at dinner tonight, so I am awake, awake, awake into the wee hours of the morning. This is not a particularly fun bout of insomnia, considering it's been one of those weeks where it seems that everything I touch has an anti-Midas effect. In other words, can I do anything right? I truly don't want to be one of those self-pitying sorts, especially when there are so many honest-to-God Important Things happening (important enough that capital letters are required). I feel silly and self-indulgent to actually type out that I'm-not-really-getting-along-with-my-friends, or what-has-happened-to-my-paycheck-and-non-existent-savings, or I'm-so-tired-of-my-job-I-could-scream-like-a-banshee, or do-I-actually-look-that-dreadful-in-the-picture-he-took when I should be focusing and praying for Darfur or the war in Iraq or for anyone (and there are so very many, I know) less fortunate than I.

But the truth of it is, I haven't been praying a whole lot lately. In the past two years I've fluctuated between reciting the Lord's Prayer like some good-luck mantra to the occasional convenience plea ("Please, God, let me find a parking space...) to downright disregard of Him. Basically, for months, I have been ignoring God. Ignoring God. What a terrible thing to put into words. As if I could deny the splendour and beauty He has created because of circumstances affecting my small way of life. How brazen! they'll whisper, eyebrows arched. How blasphemous!

And yet...I cannot help but examine how badly my faith is shaken when I feel the efficacy of my prayers are for naught. Am I eight years old again? Altering my behavior to receive a reward from an Invisible Hand? It seems to me that even my grown-up version of God was little more than a sophisticated variation of Santa Claus. How attached I am to the temporal things of this world. So much so that I equate God with earthly pleasures. God has "blessed" me with a home, a job, a car, a profession, a paycheck...if I didn't have those things, would that make God any less real? Does my faith really hinge on the trappings of this world? If circumstances in my life turn unfavourable, doubt drips in deliberately, slowly like spilled syrup: I doubt God's love for me, I doubt myself worthy of unconditional love, I doubt God.

Therefore, I have, for the better part of two years, fundamentally ignored God because I didn't know how to talk to Him anymore. Because the way I had talked to Him in what feels like a previous life didn't "work" anymore. Because I had unconsciously hewed out a pattern of prayer that I thought was effective, but really was just a false sense of security.

I was half-joking with a friend about putting off a Spiritual "quest" til things quieted down a bit, which is actually a ridiculous thing to say because things are never quiet. Even when there is no sound in my immediate atmosphere, the hum and click of my to-do, to-be, to-not-do, to-not-be lists buzz around my head so much, I can feel my lashes vibrate. But, honestly, I need this quest; this need to be alone with God unafraid of what He has to say to me. I sympathize with Eve, darting and hiding from God because of the shame she felt in her actions. I feel the stress of everyday pressure crowding out the God-space in my head and the values of this world calcify my heart with cynicism and rejection. I am slowly becoming what I swore I would not ever be: cold, anxious, sad, lonely, irascible, proud.

Dear God, please speak to me in a way I can understand. Help me to throw off the trappings of this world and to stand before you, unfettered. I ask You for wisdom in my search for You, and rest from the distractions of the mundane. I long for a deeper, truer understanding and love for what You Are, not the echoes and simulation of happiness in this world. I pray for peace and for joy, and that I always be aware of Your constant Presence. Thank You for meeting me where I am and for loving me no matter who I am.

Your daughter,
D

Mama, if that's movin' up, then I'm movin' out...

It's 10:55 pm and I'm still at work. Not kidding.

There has got to be a better way to be a non-starving artist.

Actually, I kinda wish I were starving...my jeans would fit better.


In the meantime, check out my other genes...Easter 2007 pictures.

This will be quick...

...Just a shout-out to thank God for providing an amazing ear-specialist for my mom. He may not be able to do anything, but I'm so glad she is in the best hands possible. Also, the best Hands possible.

Running off to rehearsal.

Looking forward to a time when I can stop running.