Will is Out of Town; Had to Call Carrie

One of my first (and funniest, WAY after the fact) memories of moving to New York happened within my first week of being here. It was in Brooklyn, actually, where I was sharing a 1-month sublet with my friend at the time, a lovely ground floor of a Brownstone in Prospect Heights (on Park Place between Vanderbilt and Underhill).

I had a plan to meet Carrie at the coffee shop down the block. She was coming out from Manhattan, so I had enough time to take a shower. It was a small shower, just a stand-up stall as I recall. I turned on the water, then went to undress in the undressing room. I returned and, in my towel, pulled back the curtain to get in.

To my shock, horror and ultimate shrieking yelps, waiting there for me on the shower wall was my introduction to one of the most disgusting terrors of New York City Life: a waterbug. (for the 16 non-New Yorkers who read this blog and don't know what a waterbug is, click on the link because I can't go into detail-- it's just too gross).

Screaming, and wrapped in my towel, I sprinted out to the living room and called Carrie, who luckily had not yet left her apartment. I don't remember if I had worked myself up to the point of tears, but I was definitely panicked and I asked her if I thought it would be appropriate for me to go to the coffee shop at that very moment-- granted, I was only wearing a towel, but I needed to call in reinforcements and I didn't know anyone else in the neighborhood!

Well, tonight I was brought right back to that fateful afternoon in August 1999. After a long day of rehearsal, Fringe Adjudication and seeing an early evening show, I came home and turned on the stove to boil some water for a quick little pasta dinner. The water boiled, I puttered around, I cooked pasta. Just as it was nearing al dente, I got the strainer and as I moved aside a pot in the sink to place it down, I shrieked the horror-shriek of 8/99 as there was a really-HUGE-and-really-GROSS waterbug just sitting there in the sink.

Now besides being an excellent person to have around when your computer dies or ... well, there are other things Will does around the house but it's late and I can't quite muster a list (forgive me)... Will is great at flushing a bug down the toilet.

Murphy's Law: Will is out of town (for his dad's birthday-- Happy Birthday, Larry!), a bug sets up camp in the sink.

I know you're all probably at the edge of your seats right now wondering how I survived. Well, I called Carrie. She suggested I throw on a towel and hit the nearest café. Just as I was trying to figure out how I could maneuver past the sink to grab my towel without being spied by Mr. Bug, I realized she was only kidding. I ended up straining the pasta into another pot then pouring the hot water into the sink-- don't worry, I looked away. Actually, I only half-looked away. I saw Mr. Bug sort of spin out in the current. I think he was already dead, because neither my screams (can bugs hear?) nor my pasta water seemed to make him make a move. Unfortunately, he's too big to slip down the drain (GROSSGROSSGROSS!!!), so...

Well, let's just say that I've left some of the fun for Will's return home.

Yes, dear. If you're reading this before you've been in the kitchen, that brown paper cup sitting upside down in the sink is there for a reason. I'll leave the toilet seat up. Thanks!

An Extra Side of AWESOME

There aren't enough positive adjectives in the English Language for me to describe how just plain BADASS and SUPER AWESOME the Vampire Cowboys' current show, Fight Girl Battle World, is.

Will and I saw it last night and were both completely engrossed-- it is a rare chemistry when we both like a show so much that we're simultaneously belly laughing throughout. It's smart, it's oddly sexy (for being so, in their words, "comic geek chic") and it's laugh-out-loud hilarious.

I'm late to the game, since the show closes on Sunday, but if you're in the area, Go See This Show!

In other news, also from the AWESOME department-- I'm off today to do my spot on Sesame Street. Triangle Man is waiting for me in Queens-- I've just got to pack up all my most colorful garb and head out there. I'll be back over the weekend with photos, I'm sure. Today will most likely be one of the most fun days of my life.

Busy. Mind-blowingly So.

My to-do list as of late has gotten out of control. So much so that yesterday I cancelled my debit card, convinced that I had lost it.

This morning I turned my chair 90˚ to the left from my desk and there it was, in all its Citibank-y glory.

Luckily my new card comes tomorrow.* And not a moment too soon. Operating strictly on cash makes me uneasy for some reason.

Anyway, what's keeping me busy is all good. I have a bunch of performances coming up, including my improv class show this Thursday at 7pm at the Magnet Theater.

Also, be on the lookout for Babylon, Babylon, coming in April to the Brick.

Until then, I may seem like a distant memory, but rest assured, I'm alive.

*The Customer Service Lady said that it would take a week, but if I needed it sooner she could get it to me by Wednesday. Who doesn't "need it sooner"??

I Could Get SO Much Done If This Was My Office

Seriously.

Could there be a more perfect place than the Google Offices in Zurich?

I've been thinking what's missing from our home office is clearly the aquarium room with foam cube-filled thinking tub. And chill-out pods, massage room and hammock chairs!

Wow. We're gonna need a bigger apartment if I'm ever gonna get anything done around here!

Things I'd Miss if I Had a Dayjob, Volume 2

Seeing Glen Hansard on the street! He wasn't doing his musician thing, he was just walking down Broadway above Union Square, but I got totally sideswiped by excitement. His movie Once was incredibly moving (and his Oscar acceptance speech even more so) and it was great to see him for a split second. (or his doppelganger, whatever!)

That Was Fast!

Geez, the man barely has time to get his pants back on and hold a press conference and the moment-to-moment industry that is pop culture kitsch has already got his mug on everything they can think of!

And lest we forget the power and general *zing!* of the quippy headline!

Personally, I don't much follow state politics here-- it's all I can do to keep up with happenings on the national level without throwing my blog reader out the window. I will say, though, that were it not for his rumbling against the "bad guys" as Attorney General, etc. I almost wish that they would leave him alone since this falls as another check in the column marked "Let's All Be Way Too Concerned With What Goes On In Each Other's Bedrooms".

But the lesson we can all walk away from this with is to make sure your closet his sparkling clean before you go poking through someone else's.

Which reminds me. Spring cleaning!

via Gothamist

Will Finds "Religion", Takes Sundays Off

Sometimes he just cracks me up.

Once Babylon, Babylon opens and I no longer have full-weekend rehearsals, I'm taking Sundays off too, dammit!

Today's Post is Brought to You by the Letter S

I may have just gotten some of the greatest news ever: I'm going to be on Sesame Street!!

My dear friend from college and beyond, the wacky and wonderful Carrie Haugh, is the casting director for the show. This normally means that she works almost exclusively with children between the ages of <1 and 5. And the occasional muppet.

But, lucky for me, there is a Very Special Episode coming up involving a Very Special character from last year, Triangle Man (played by the inimitable and very tall Mike Haugh of Boston fame-- he also happens to be Carrie's Dad-- nepotism rocks!!). Apparently, they're bringing him back for another round of triangular fun and he needs a few older buddies. And one of them is ME!

My inner 3-year-old is shrieking with glee. God, I have the greatest friends in the world.

Accents

I grew up outside of Boston (Lowell, MA, to be exact). Until around junior year of high school when I became heavily immersed in theater and acting, I had the thickest of Boston Accents* and sounded frighteningly like a mini (and female) Ted Kennedy.

At the tender age of 16, upon hearing my own voice caught on tape, I decided I needed to eliminate my accent (or at least learn to control it). I voraciously watched the news and over-enunciated every 'R' I could get my teeth on. I had an inkling that I wanted to go to school for theater and wondered just what I would get cast as if I didn't change my Bostonian sound.

Today, most people I know are shocked to learn that I once had an accent. I'm occasionally asked to "do it", like "it" is some sort of party trick. It's not an easy one to do properly, so I'm grateful I've got it in my back pocket should I ever need it.

Yesterday I got a Voiceover audition that called for a Mid-Atlantic accent. In researching an audio clip for that, I came across this quiz (and you know I love a quiz!):

What American accent do you have? (Best version so far) Northeast New England The kind of accent they have in Boston. There is more to it than just r's. Like, you say "don" and "dawn" the same while the people down in NYC don`t.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

Who knew? Apparently you can take the girl out of the accent, but never the accent out of the girl. "Don" and "Dawn". Those sound the same, no?

Click on the link above to find out for yourself.

Will found this video accent research. She does the Mid-Atlantic and the very end, in case you're dying for an example. (think Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant)

*this could quite possibly be the best thing I've ever linked to on the Internet.

Getting into Voiceovers

I've been asked by a handful of people over the last few months just how I got into doing voiceovers.

I'm always happy to tell my story, with a couple of caveats:

• I can only tell you what I did. Other people did it different ways that may have been easier/faster/better/cheaper/kinkier. I did it this way. (James Urbaniak, for example, did it this way.)
• I most likely can't get you an agent. That's one of the hardest things to do, and it's a hurdle every actor faces. If it was easier to find work, it probably wouldn't pay as much. Or I'd be writing from my own private island already.
• There's a joke in the business that all the work is done by 8 people. This is not far from the truth.
  

That being said, here's what I did.

I had a friend who was doing well in Voiceovers. I asked her how she got into it. She referred me to her coach, Peter Rofé. I met him and liked him. I worked with Peter for about 4-6 coaching sessions before I recorded my commercial reel.

Peter invites selected students to workshops he holds with agents and casting directors. This is how I met my agent.

I was with my agency for about a year when one of the agents urged me to make a promo reel. She referred me to another coach, the saucy Marla Kirban. I worked with Marla for four sessions and then recorded my promo reel. This was a good idea. I currently have a handful of promos running on cable.

Unless you're already doing it, I believe working with a coach is a crucial part of starting out. Even if you're a trained actor, commercial copy is tricky. It's not a straightforward read. And it's not the same as doing it for the camera.

I highly recommend both Peter and Marla. I worked with a guy back in 2001 who I feel scammed me-- six months of weekly coaching sessions (at $85/hour) and I never got a reel out of it. I won't post his name here. Instead, I'll say if you're looking for a coach, be sure to do your research and get more than one referral from people you trust. There are gads of people who are more than willing to take your money and tell you you're headed for the big time. Don't believe the hype. The hype is pricey and a waste of time.

The other big issue that comes into play when getting into this business is money. There is a lot of it to be made. It's great work-- a lot of fun with creative people. But as in most cases, you've got to spend money to make money. I spent a good chunk of it getting myself. And I didn't make it back right away. I bet I went out on over 100 auditions before I booked my first job.*

It takes time, perseverance and a sprinkle of luck. But mostly perseverance. Voiceovers, like any field in the arts, is 10% "talent", 30% who you know and about 600% persistence.

Last summer I fulfilled my childhood dream when I recorded my first cartoon voice. That job came from a friend from high school, who is a writer and producer on the show.

Ok, maybe it's 40% who you know...

*Update March 2009: I have estimated that I probably had 600-800 auditions before booking the Campbell's Campaign which paid me more than waiting on tables.

Is it Sad, or Am I Just Intolerant?

I've learned something today.

I'm writing from the coffee shop that sits about half a block from my house. Yesterday I spent some time at the coffee shop about 3 blocks away, but today I thought I'd stick closer to home.

But there's a problem.

I live closer to the annoying coffee shop.

Seriously. At about 11am it becomes the meeting point for the new mommy club.

It's not the fact that the babies cry and make noise and are otherwise distracting. It's the mommies.

I just had to sit and bite my tongue while frantically searching for my headphones as one mommy told the other that she was still undecided as to whether or not little Matilda would be vaccinated because she wasn't finished researching their safety.

Now the other mommy has started walking around the coffee shop to bounce her baby. But she's still staying in conversation with the mommies at the table. Because, you know, it's a small place and what's a little more volume? It's not like anyone else has anything better to do than make sure her baby is comfortable and her social needs are met.

This isn't to say that I don't think they should be here. When I was a nanny, I took the baby out for lunch (me- a sandwich, Lulu- a bottle), and it was nice to be able to be mobile with her.

BUT.

The key to getting out of your house is the fact that you are no longer In Your House. It's not ok to go into another room and shout to complete the story you started before you left. And please, Jesus, it's not cool to take your shoes off at the table. And since when is it ok to change a diaper at a table in a restaurant?! Good god, isn't anything sacred???!!!?

I guess if I want a cooler coffee shop, I'm gonna have to suck it up and walk the extra few blocks. There goes the neighborhood!

Things I'd Miss if I Had a Dayjob

Chaos in Cobble Hill!

A huge White Rose truck blocks traffic for blocks on Clinton Street!

It looks like the poor guy was trying to turn left on Clinton from Degraw and got monstrously stuck in the process. There were a couple of cops trying to help guide him as he backed up, but nobody could stop him before he crunched the front of an unfortunately parked Mini Cooper!


Smaller residential neighborhoods like these should really consider operating more like Venice-- everything comes to the island on a boat (perhaps, say, into the nearby docks of Red Hook) and then hand-trucked to its destination. Wouldn't that be more civilized than a monster truck rally on a Monday afternoon?

Now I Know My ABCs

From Project.ioni.st, via Will

Will is really into this Project.ioni.st site. I don't understand really what it is, other than a tumblog, which Wikipedia defines as

a variation of a blog that favors short-form, mixed-media posts over the longer editorial posts frequently associated with blogging

I consider it sort of the blog version of keeping too many receipts in your wallet, you know, when you just can't throw them away yet can't seem to keep them organized. Am I sharing too much?

Anyway, he set up a podcast that posts a song-a-day. It's really opened me up to some great new music, and taken me back to some fun old stuff. Learn about it and figure out how to subscribe here.

If I Were Gonna Be a Supermodel...

... I wouldn't get out of bed for less than $25K unless I got to wear this.

Note to self: wear more eyeliner!

h/t Eden

Also, from the Viktor & Rolf show:

via the Sartorialist

Bootcamp: Day 24 -- The End of the Line!

Yeah, so this is pretty much what I look like now that I've finished my initial six weeks of Boot Camp. But not as blonde. Or tan. And I didn't really grow a moustache.

Ok, slight exaggeration, maybe... BUT... here's what did happen:

• I now notch my belt two holes tighter
• I can wave without resembling my grandmother at bingo
• I can do more squat thrusts per minute than anyone in the fourth grade or below (this one is going on my résumé)
• I feel a boatload more in-shape than when I started!

So for each of the 24 mornings that I wanted to destroy my alarm, for every hour spent wondering if this was a good thing on which to have spent money, for every time Reuben, Alex or Nizio said "the pain is just weakness leaving your body" and I wanted to scream, I have to say it was all worth it. 100%.

That isn't to say that today wasn't one of the hardest days ever, mind you. This whole week was tough, but today I was convinced that the boys must have stayed up really late last night to concoct the world's most extreme routine.

And, Nizio lost his voice, but gained-- wait for it-- a megaphone-like voice amplifier. That's right. A mini bullhorn. I probably spent a good five minutes flittering back and forth between fits of laughter and terror. I think the monstrous boom of his voice made our counting sound thin in comparison, because Alex came rushing over screaming that we weren't counting loud enough. For this crime, the punishment was "Build a House".

No, not a Habitat for Humanity construction project. Nothing of the sort. I had actually heard some folk in class talk about Build a House as one of the most dreaded forms of punishment-exercise. And I nearly escaped without experiencing it for myself. Almost.

Everyone lines up, shoulder to shoulder, then goes into a downward dog-like position, then one person crawls on their belly through everyone else then takes the down dog position at the other end, and so on and so on. Sounds like a schoolyard game kids might play, except children don't have grown men yelling at them while they do it. And the kiddoes might not be as concerned about being really sweaty and stinky and grossing out their classmates. What a way to start your day!

Then we were on to a fierce round of out-do your own time. We had one minute to do each of a bunch of exercises. There were tires involved. It was really hard. And all the while, Alex kept a tally of everyone's count on the whiteboard. When the whiteboard comes out, you should hope you don't have to lift anything else or really walk anywhere for the rest of the day. The thing that killed me the most was laps around the gym. In one minute, we were told that the record was 4 laps and that we should at least meet that, if not break it. This was the second to last exercise in the series, and it nearly broke me. I made it to four (I think the one guy in our class today did 5!) and then could barely catch my breath before moving on to a minute of squat thrusts. Whee!

But as much as I found myself dreading this much working out, it really seems that it's the key to it's effectiveness-- a one hour Boot Camp workout is like two hours at the gym on my own. I would never push myself this hard, and even when I worked out with a personal trainer, I managed to talk my way into a handful of breaks in between exercises.

I was shocked when today was over. I was really convinced there was more. So even though it's the hardest hour of the day, it can fly by.

Sari thinks I'm not coming back. True, I have to take a little break due to a change in my schedule (and in an attempt to finance an upcoming show), but I'll be back.

Or it's back to Bingo Arm.

Bootcamp: Day 23

My knees are bruised more than ever, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow completes my initial 6-week run at Pure Power Boot Camp!

I don't know if it's just that yesterday's class nearly broke me or that today's workout was awfully hard as well, but I have been walking slowly and carefully all day.

It was another day of obstacle circuit training. And crazy stunts with the sandbags. I'm having dreams of sneaking in there in the middle of the night and replacing all the sand with cotton balls. That would be dreamy.

I think what killed me the most was that I was extremely spacially unaware today. I banged my knee into the corner of a hurdle so hard, my leg nearly gave out upon landing. But I think that made Sari laugh as I bellowed a way-too-loud "OUCH!!!"

For once, I'll spare you all the intricate and gnarly details and simply direct you to Sari, who talks about perhaps the most insane mind-melting stunt they pulled on us today. I'll just tell you I cheered for cake, a nap and a water break. Not exactly in that order.

Bootcamp: Day 22

See that little girl there to the right*? That's how the Boot Camp felt today. Like I had never done it before. Day 1 all over again.

And I knew it the minute I got off the elevator. The 6:30am class looked like they were dying, lugging sand bags all over the place, doing wall squats, obstacles and other things that made me want to hide in the changing tent.

When it was our turn, we started with what seemed like the normal warm-up: running, stretching, jumping jacks, then the fun fun fun "12 seconds to get around the gym!"

But then, instead of going into a series of monster lunges, squat thrusts and/or star jumpers, we were instructed to do the hurdles, the walls and the other set of hurdles.

For a moment, I thought that we were going to have it easy-- I always feel like there's a little more breathing room in between the obstacles. Boy, was I wrong.

There were only six of us in class today. Where is everyone? I heard Alex and Nizio conferring on what I thought was who could go take a break-- one instructor can easily handle such a small class. Then I heard Alex say something that I tried to pretend I did not actually hear: "Just kill 'em".

And then he went into the tent and came out in street clothes, leaving us in the torturous hands of Nizio.

I have heard from more than one person that their hardest workout was on a Nizio Day. And after today, I concur completely.

By now you all know that I have a major issue with the tires and am looking for a chance to slash them at every turn. I am now also fostering that same contempt for the sandbags. Today we had to run laps with them, holding them "like a baby", as opposed to holding the bar "like a rifle" to which I have become accustomed (yet I still find hilarious).

We had to bear crawl around the entire gym, with Nizio warning us nearly every step of the way not to get up-- even on the shredded rubber parts in the middle we had to keep bear crawling. Unfortunately, one girl couldn't stand it and got up at one point, which meant another lap for us all. It doesn't sound like a lot, but after sandbag laps, I nearly dropped. And my hands were FILTHY, which, albeit the least of my worries, was really gross.

Then it was a minute of squat thrusts. Standing next to the Best Girl in Class (the triathlete), I managed to do a whopping 41. (I wouldn't exactly say they were shining examples of form, but I went up and down 41 times in 60 seconds.) Then a lap around the gym. Another minute of squat thrusts, this time with the warning that we had best beat or at least match our previous number. I did 44, and I'm not exactly sure how or why and I nearly died again on the next lap around the gym.

As if that wasn't enough, it was then a minute of jumping squat thrusts. I managed 25, and my legs were shaking as I ran that next lap. Then-- wait for it-- another minute, again threatening to match or beat our previous number. I got to 27.

We also did partner leg lifts with the throw-down, where your partner stands at your shoulders and flings your legs down, then you have to lift them back up. Usually, I don't mind this so much, since it involves lying down which is almost like resting. Usually we go at our own pace. Not today. Nizio led the count, and he counts real slow.

There were other things along the way that I'm still too brain dead to remember, but I definitely can't forget finishing off with three sets of ten chin-ups. I loathe anything involving the monkey bars. Luckily (is it lucky? really?), we get to do partner pull-ups, where the pull-up-er stands on the partner's legs, or the partner assists by holding the puller's feet. I do the leg standing and even though I feel like I'm cheating, my arms are worn out by the end.

I was never happier to do the final round of group sit-ups. I also had to immediately take a shower-- I couldn't imagine just throwing my coat on over my marvelously sweaty clothes. I showered, then sat in the changing tent in a towel contemplating getting dressed for the better part of ten minutes. One may also have viewed this as "spacing out".

I proceeded to fall asleep on the train home, feebly wobble up the stairs, meander home and crash out for a severe nap. I'm glad that hour is behind me. Two more days.

Two more days.


*from the End Times series by the awesome photographer Jill Greenberg, who is responsible for Will's and my new favorite gift book.

Bootcamp: Day 21 (The Home Stretch)

It's my last week! There were a few snags along the way, including illness and travel, but I'm in the Home Stretch! Not that it's any easier, mind you.

Today, as I'm sure you know by now, was Abs Day. But it was no normal Abs Day. That Alex is a creative and sneaky fellow. Just when we thought it was time to do the normal abs routine, he mixed it up a bit and nearly killed me!

I've mentioned before how much contempt I hold for exercises involving lifting, pressing and or squatting with tires, right? Well, today was no different, save for the fact that Alex made me use the heaviest tire in the bunch! I swear, this monster came off of a Mack Truck.

Then it was on to more creative things to lift. Sand bags! The old sand bags that line the perimeter of the obstacle course (to keep us from escaping, perhaps?) were replaced with shiny new ones. I noticed a wall was built with a bunch of them to block off our usual "short cut" during our run (it cuts off about eight inches of the running space-- ooooh, we're cheating!). In the middle of our hour I learned where the other sand bags went.

"Grab a sand bag and RUN!"

These little sacks of horror must weigh about 300 lbs each (or maybe 20lbs.) and we were instructed to toss one on our shoulder and do two laps. Next we were to lay down on our backs, hold the sand bag up as if bench-pressed and do leg lifts.

It was like doing leg lifts inside of an hourglass, with tiny grains of sand slowly trickling down onto my sweaty face. I woke up at 6:15am for this.

But that was not all. It was another fun round of over and under the hurdles, scaling the walls and back over the hurdles. Then partner sit-ups-- how many can you do in 2 minutes? (I did 73 and nearly died).

And then another blast of Alex creativity-- 3 laps of bear crawl around the gym. 3 laps of Star Jumpers around the gym (basically like stationary long-jumping, which sucks when your legs are tired). 3 laps of -- get this-- skipping. Yes. Skipping. Like little girls do, except with an emphasis on lifting your knee high and jumping super-high. Sounds girly, hurts like hell. Then 3 laps of sort of a sideways bear crawl and 3 of something that reminded me of the Shuffle Off To Buffalo move from tap dancing school back when I was 8.

Sounds like a lot for an hour, huh? Well, we haven't even gotten to the Abs routine yet! He started us off with the normal thing-- butterfly crunches, raised-leg crunches and the torturous "In-and-Outs". But then instead of moving us onto the second series, we partnered up to do things I have never even heard of, the most insane of which being the "Push-up Plank". Starting in a plank position on your forearms and toes, you lift your arms to a push-up position so you're on your hands and toes. We did 100. I actually probably only did around 12, a) because I was confused and b) because it was one of the most exhausting exercises I've ever done.

Luckily, Alex went easy on us for that one. I literally stopped a couple of times but kept counting and either he didn't see me or he let it slide, because normally coming to a stop would bring on some yelling and some lap-running.

Did I mention also that there were only 5 of us in class today? Maybe there was a telekinetic memo passed around to the other kids who were smart enough to stay in bed.

On the bright side, though, I was standing taller all day!

Jackson Hole

One does not need to know me extremely well to know that I'm not exactly what one might call "outdoorsy".

Yet somehow I managed to survive three days of the death-defying snow sport called Skiing in natural beauty-filled Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We travelled with our friends Colleen and Sean (or Dana and Christopher-- I'm convinced they're super-heroes with alter-egos and two names each) and got to visit with our friends Matt & Fany, Whitney, Kenny and Chris who are all ski-bumming there for the season. I have never seen people happier to see a big snowfall.

A ski trip with hard-core ski fiends, I've learned, involves certain levels of endurance and fearlessness. I didn't really pack enough of these things, so there were a couple of bouts of crazy on Day 1* (see photo below).

Will told me on this trip (and not once before in the 3.5 years we've been dating) that he was the New York state champ in some skiing thing (a race, perhaps?) when he was in high school. So he and I skiing together would be the equivalent of us going on a Theater Vacation where the reason everyone is there is to act act act. He's on the Shakespeare of slopes, I'm learning how to read.

Here are some photographic highlights from our weekend in the snow:

Will had to take photos of himself, as I was doing battle a few meters down with some serious bunny slope.

Someone else must have taken this one...

Maybe it was Colleen and Sean, seen here documenting their snowy fun fun.
Note who is not in these photos.
Hint: me.

*Oh, this was fun. Colleen, bless her heart, thought I was doing really well on my first day ever on skis. Thinking that I was ready for something a little more challenging, we went up up up to a slope called "Apres Vous".

What we did not know was that this slope was a Double Blue, which is apparently the West Coast equivalent to an East Coast Black Diamond. (click on the photo and take note of the word "Avalanche" in the sign on the left.)

Terrified, I ended up taking the skis off and scooting down on my butt, knocking poor Colleen down with my slip-slidey insanity in the process. After what felt like a lifetime on my butt, we made it to a mellow traverse, where I was allowed by the world's friendliest lift operators to ride the lift down. Consolation prize: we saw a momma and baby moose in the woods on the way.

Seriously. It seemed this steep.
(Note: This is not my bunny slope.)

Will with our friend Fany.
His skis with her snowboard.

And here it is. Proof. I was there.
I got lots of compliments on those pants.
Shockingly, not so many compliments on my ski skills...

I think aprés ski in the hot tub is the whole reason people put themselves through the rigor of the sport. This is by far the best part (sorry, ski aficionados).

We stayed at The Rusty Parrot, a lovely bed & breakfast just off the center of town. If you're planning a trip to Jackson, I highly recommend it. The staff was fantastic, the bed plush and the restaurant a real treat. And the outdoor hot tub-- need I say more?

Well, actually, if you're really lucky, you know Matt and Fany and they'll cook you dinner. But you have to be truly in the know for that one... Nothing like some home cookin' (by two culinary trained pro chefs) after a long day of scooting down a mountain!

Bootcamp: Day 20 -- the One Day Late Post

With a plane to catch at noon and a bunch of errands to run in between, I actually made it to the 6:30am class yesterday. On the plus side, it was still dark when I left the house, which I get some twisted enjoyment from, but seriously, it was deathly early.

I didn't know anyone in the class, but I had seen some of them before. One of the girls was the one who I had seen doing the bear crawl with a tire on her butt back on Day 12. She is no joke-- never looks like she breaks a sweat.

So we did the usual warm-up, laps, jumping jacks, lunges, star jumpers and partner sit-ups in the tire (100). Then we broke into two groups for circuit training on the obstacle course.

We did one obstacle, then an Alex-prescribed exercise in between. A set of hurdles then 25 jumping squat thrusts. The walls then 25 push-ups on the tire. The monkey bars (which for me means hanging from the first one wondering how people motor across these things until my hands hurt) then 25 squat presses (with the tire. Damn!)

The obstacle that killed me the most was the Intensity Wall-- a wall about 8-10' high with a knotted rope hanging down. You're supposed to use the rope to help you while you climb up with your feet then hurl yourself over the top. The front of the walls are covered with a thin layer of fine sandpaper, which usually helps give your sneakers some traction and get you up the wall. The first time I did this back on Day 1, it was tough, but I managed. This time, though, I couldn't get up! Finally, the Bear-Crawl-Tire-Butt girl ran up behind me and said she was going to help. Realizing this was the only way I was going to make it over, I accepted. Next thing I know, she is literally shoving me up the wall by my butt. In other situations, this may have been viewed as humiliating or just plain weird, but I was grateful for the butt shove.

Then we moved on to Reuben for another circuit round involving weights and the insane "V Crunches" (lying flat, lift your arms and legs at the same time until you're a human V).

6:30 was a tough class. But as we were finishing up, I noticed that there were only boys in the 7:30, so I was glad I was already done!!