The History of a Theatre Geek or What Happens When You Drink Coffee


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Hello, my dears!

Well, I’m back and still not recovered from the premier of my musical. At all. In the least.

Really, though, it’s kind of to be expected. When all your dreams come true and you’re suddenly kind of popular it’s hard to recover. Because of my musical I have been changed for the better, I really have.

I love how I keep making really not obvious Wicked references that only true musical wack-a-doodles are going to get. I guess we’re all kind of musical wack-a-doodles here, though, so, phew, good. Thank goodness.

Sorry. There’s just no time at all and I have to keep making jokes, and I know it’s annoying, but at least day by day I’m trying. To find my corner of the sky.


This week I felt like I should write something profound. Now that I’ve written a musical and am filled with the spirit of theatre and all that jazz I really must have some wisdom to share with the populace, I really must. Perhaps give them a little hope for the future, a little glimpse into the mind of a genius.

I have the cover, so now I’m all set to start writing my autobiography.

Let me begin with my birth. I was born in a hospital. I have no great memories of the experience but it was mostly a good experience. When I was a toddler I bonked my head on a flower vase. It may have affected my mental state but we never talk about it. It’s really better not to overshare, a virtue I try to model in my everyday life. After I stopped being a toddler I became interested in something known as plays. This was because I went to a children’s theatre production of Oliver! and a character died in it. Died, I tell you. The way I knew she’d died was because the boy playing Oliver screamed “They’ve murdered Nancy!” and pointed offstage. It was quite traumatizing. Also effective. I was hooked. After I starred in a production of Annie Jr. as an orphan named Tessie, I gallivanted around on a bunch more adventures, most of them involving wearing giant teapot costumes, pretending to know how to jette, and singing Les Miserables in English accents, and fell madly in love with Lin-Manuel Miranda, I decided to write a blog about myself because it turned out I was the only person I was interested in writing about. And if you’re clever, you can usually get all the dirt on yourself. Even the parts about the Beauty Routine (powder compacts and spritzes of pumpkin latte perfume) and Vocal Technique (louder is better). Now, speaking of-

I have decided that I was wrong about the spirit of theatre. It didn’t endow me with supreme profoundness and all that jazz.  I read War and Peace in eighth grade, but then the profoundness left, I think. How do I know? I read my memoir, people, I just read my memoir. That’s how. Why didn’t you stop me? I’ve made a complete and utter fool of myself and now you know about the giant teapot costume. No one was supposed to know about the giant teapot costume.

What the freaking frak was I thinking? I can’t even swear like a normal person. Am I nothing but a shell? A shell with really cute glasses? Oh, Carol!* Is this the end? Is this how it all ends? A shell with cute glasses and a genius blog?

Wait a second.

There must be some kind of profoundness left in me. I’m sure, there is, actually. In actuality, I know so. I wrote a musical, goshdarnit! I wrote a musical and not only that, once, in Vons, I did a conga line. A conga line! Oh gosh, I’m returning, I’m coming back to my theatrical self. Thank gosh, thank freaking gosh.


I’m back.

Sorry that had to happen. Really.

As to the title of this post. The History of a Theatre Geek. Well. What I was trying to say, in my windingly winding way, is that whatever happens, as long as you still believe yourself, you are profound. Even if you make an ebook cover with a fake review on it.

Before I chop off and everything, I want to ask you all a couple of questions. Firstly, would you be at all interested in my blog happening more than twice a week? Also, would you be interested in more theatre reviews and less bantering all over the freaking place or vis versa? Please, please let me know in comments or take this little survey (who am I becoming? A survey? What?) I just want to know more about you all.

Love you!






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