DeeDee's Living Will

Something about Mary

2013-04-25T15:29:00.000-04:00

with Mary Coy backstage

How in the world could anyone really call it solo performing? It just can't be done alone. Or maybe I should say, I don't like doing it alone. Mary Coy has been with me for over 40 performances of Dirty Barbie, and lots of rehearsals on top of that. One thing I know about working with Mary is that we're going to be laughing. Whether we're waiting for light boards to boot up or projectors to work or trains to come, we crack each other up. Yesterday we spent the afternoon getting used to Newcomb Theatre at UVA. Dirty Barbie opens there tonight at 8pm. The fire exit behind the stage is spooky. We don't know yet whether I'll control my mic volume or Mary will. I've never done this show with a mic. Who knows where I'll hide out before the show. We still have to check out potato chip proximity and the mic. As I rehearsed, I yelled to Mary all the things I forgot yesterday and she made me a little email list. Well, it wasn't so little. The powerpoint needed adjusting, I need to find the telephone book. I gotta pack the trunk. I can't forget to remember the dress. THE DRESS.

She lifted up my new laptop and sighed, "Oooh, so light. I wish we'd had this in Scotland." Oh Scotland...we took some time to reminisce about the little fish and chippie place down the street. She said she was friends on Facebook with the owner. She said, "I like seeing their little updates. I think they get alot of after school business."

She's easy to please. I showed her some changes I was working on. She pushed the gas here, the brake there.

As a couple elements of tech weren't quite jiving yesterday, the organizer happened to stop by and the tech director told her what was going on. He said, "They are handling it really well, but I'm still going to fix it." These moments would really panic me if I didn't have Mary.

with Mary on the right, going over new material

Last summer, when I got self-conscious about a certain part of the show and thought about cutting it, Mary said, "If you cut that part, I won't run the tech." That's a good friend. One who nips your freaking out in the bud.

We both showed up to tech yesterday with our Dirty Barbie t-shirts and while loading-in, a professor-type woman yelled out "Dirty Barbie!" Never knew matching t-shirts were important for more than keeping choir groups together at Kings Dominion.

I'm a solo performer who really doesn't like going at this solo.

Thanks, Mary. Let's do this....

p.s. all photos by the wonderful Martin Kyle of Pernmoot Photography.

Light House Studio Saturday Workshops

2013-03-18T21:26:00.000-04:00

INT. LIGHT HOUSE STUDIO -- DAY

Eva wrote about a scene that really happened. Steven wrote two scripts and changed his mind at the last moment about which one we would read. Caleb brought it on his computer, but doesn't have an ending. Almost no one had decided on a title. Titles or no titles...I'm impressed.

I'll type in Courier font in honor of the standard screenwriting font that everyone is supposed to use.

I'm teaching a series of three workshops on screenwriting at Light House Studio. I met 11 high school students for the first time 2 Saturdays ago and they started their own original 5 minute scripts. They came up with their scenarios and rough ideas during the first class, then they brought back formatted scripts for a table readings and discussions last Saturday.

Discussing plot, character, dialogue, etc.

We read as many scripts as we could get through in the two hours and then we discussed each script.

listen, discuss, listen, discuss

Eva (center) listening while her script is read

The dreaded (but wonderfully productive) warm-up writing exercise

Two of the scripts will be chosen for upcoming in-depth workshops and full productions by Light House. The screenplays not chosen will still be considered for future development.

I can't wait to see the final drafts or next-to-final drafts this Saturday. If you have a young person interested in film and you live anywhere near Charlottesville, send them to Light House.

A Case of the Mondays

2013-03-11T17:50:00.002-04:00

In October of 2011, I became a renter at a writer's cottage. There are five of us here most of the time. It's a shared space which just means (for us) that you need to pack up your junk at the end of the day and that you should try and take your phone calls on the porch. It also means you're less alone, and less likely to sit around in your pajamas.

I like being alone in the cottage, the almost total silence and coldness of it first thing in the morning and the satisfaction that a boiling kettle gives to a woman alone in the winter. I like to stare at people out of the window -- cars slowing down, children walking to the park, mothers pushing strollers, people waiting for the bus.

Now and then I drift off to times that I worked more formally, when I had official bosses, places where there were no cats dropping by and crying at my window. Moments when I'm struggling to stay focused, to not be sad, to not Google "ADD symptoms", I feel a painful urge to go buy coffee, to go interrupt a friend, to go run an errand, to go eat. I'm not alone. Other people want to bail, too. If I'm smart, I'll just sit right here and watch the chimney smoke from the house next door and I'll keep writing.

A teenager walking home from school is so much happier this afternoon than he usually is. His shoulders back, almost lunging with his steps. I need to know why this Monday was so much better than the other Mondays.

I like having company in the cottage, the sound of other people typing, their children in the corners working on math and wearing headphones, singing lightly.

At five o'clock or six o'clock or sometimes seven, when I'm hungry or I've just gotta go, I wash my dishes and pack up, turn the heat down. When I think I should've gotten more done, I feel my chest bind up like fists, and then I turn off the lights and lock up. Last night I smelled pipe smoke when I was leaving. I looked around in the dark at the porches, but couldn't find the smoker.

Thinking that I, too, better get home for some relaxing moments with vices, I get in my car and drive off.

Other spaces similar to this in Charlottesville include Open Space ,

and this gr e at space of graphic designing ladies in Cville.

Shared spaces for creative types are becoming more and more common, such as this group in Austin, TX, in New York City, and this article listing lots of shared spaces in cool cities. If you need a shared space, find a cool house that needs renting and get a bunch of writer/artist-types to share the rent!

When Children Roamed in Snow

2013-03-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

We made the most of snow days. We were passionate about snow. There was almost a clawing to get outside from the moment no school was announced. I remember the large dial on the tv and channel 3, the news out of Charlotte. I remember cereal and nightgowns and begging and dying and praying and holding my breath waiting for the line to go across the bottom of the screen: Mooresville City Schools -- Closed. Baskets were raided for gloves. Mismatched gloves were okay. Too small boots were okay. Jeans were okay. Thermal underwear was forced.

Every possible downhill was tried -- driveways, backyards, front yards, schoolyards. It was an outside world all day long with breaks only when jeans were soaked and thighs were numb. There were breaks only when my brother hit me so hard in the face with a snowball I cried.   Breaks only when they made you come inside. I don't remember new sleds. I remember cracked sleds and old sleds from neighbor's basements. I remember Mrs. Cooke saying her wooden sled needed wax, but we could try it anyway. I remember the trophies and plaques all over the basement walls from her athletic children who were all grown up. I remember cardboard boxes and trash can lids. I remember all the best hills.

Chuck Kory built forts. He and his brother pushed so hard. Pushed you right down in the snow. Tackled you. Called you a baby. Ran you off. Let you come back. They abandoned their forts too soon. I don't know where they went. We passed their cruel snow world on. We would lie near the edge of the creek bank pretending we were dead until Kathryn's little sister ran screaming back up to the house.

Our neighborhood days were always parentless, but especially on snow days. Parents did not play with you. The streets were abandoned except for the random Buick or Pontiac swerving slowly, trying not to kill us. My mother would say, "Why do you idiots sled right down the middle of the street?"

I remember walking through the woods. An old, well-marked daily world made new by snow. There were rallying cries and tactics, walkie-talkies and winners. Important wars were fought in those woods. There were bb guns and snowballs filled with rocks. There was vengeance and freedom, romance and treehouses and things that were red. I loved everything red in the snow -- mittens, coats, doors, buckets.

Walking through the neighborhood, you could not leave a single yard pristine, un-tromped on. Footprints and snow angels were fascinating. We made snowmen out of the ugliest, nastiest, most unclean snow. We tried, you know? We tried to make snowmen in the driest, most un-fun snow. We collected icicles. We tried to make ice skating ponds on sidewalks. Even in the lightest of snows, we made the most of it.

All the food was just what you think it was: cocoa and grilled cheese and tomato soup and raviolis and chocolate chip cookies. There was HBO at noon over fish sticks and tater tots in your pajamas with your face on fire. There was staring at the dryer, impatiently opening the door so you could layer back up and head back out. There were phone calls and plans made. I'll meet you at South School.

There was that moment when you knew you'd stayed out too long. We always pushed our curfews too far, past dark. Dragging a sled home past Mr. Field's house, he'd be out in his driveway -- shoveling...working. He was on the school board. He had some influence on whether school got called. He'd see me trudging home late. He'd nod and wink and smile and say, "I thought you'd be happy."

I was.

Miller Murray Susen...my Dorothy Parker

2013-03-07T09:12:00.000-05:00


at Blue Moon Diner: where the cool kids obviously get better service Quotes from Miller Murray Susen over omelet and veggie burger: "I'm building my brand, motherfucker." "She's playing my evil stepmother and she looked at me and said, 'WHAT have you been doing?' and I told her I'd eaten an onion bagel from Bodo's." "I'm pessimistic, I'm fatalistic, and I'm not that nice."

Self-Portrait in a Sweatshirt

2013-03-06T09:09:00.001-05:00

In January I set up camp at the dining room table in order to finish my wellness manual in the evenings. Like kudzu, I have been creeping across the land and now it seems unlikely that my stacks of books and I will be leaving the dining room anytime soon . I like writing at tables. Right now, except for the sound of heavy branches hitting the roof and agitating my PTSD, it is an idyllic spot to write and watch the snow fall. At night, though, while I'm typing, if I look up, I can only see myself in the window.

Grande coffee in a venti cup with 2 pumps hazelnut, 2 pumps vanilla, 2 pumps caramel, 2 equals and 4 sweet and lows filled to the top with cream, with extra cream on the side, double cupped with no sleeve, a stir stick, and stopper put in the top..

2013-03-03T19:08:00.000-05:00

8 Writing Prompts Inspired by My Eggs (and my day)

2013-03-01T17:53:00.000-05:00

Need a break from not writing? Tip: Walk around the cottage where you rent and take pictures of it for your blog!

It's been a quiet day to contemplate a comeback.   A comeback to my blog, I mean. I plan to write on it all the time...then I don't. I've found this common in blogging circles, but knowing this doesn't help (the disappointment). I write harsh journal entries about how my life emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually would greatly improve if I wrote on my blog regularly. That's probably too much to expect from a blog, but it's not too much to expect from writing. If you're like me, it's nice occasionally to have a writing prompt. Since I could not think of what to write on my blog today for my fabulous comeback, the fabulous comeback will have to wait. Instead, I came up with writing prompts (inspired by my day) that other people might feel so motivated that they could just...write...

1. Free write for 20 minutes about how you are a worthless sack of shit. If cats fighting outside your window at 4:30 a.m. freezes your writing, breathe in their violence and then use it in your work. Stay with it!

2. Pretend you are in a cycle class and all the booty songs are bothering you. Pretend that's funny because they never bothered you before. Then, write honestly (do not lie) about whether you like big butts. Decide whether or not you make Sir Mix-a-Lot horny. Decide that you'd like to kick some nasty thoughts. Try to remember that scene from UNCLE BUCK when "Wild Thing" is playing. Suddenly connect your desire to cycle to more U2 songs to the fact that you are turning 40 soon. Make it VERY interesting -- the connection, I mean.

2. Write an action sequence about a woman buying cat food and cold rotisserie chicken at Kroger at 9:30 a.m.

3. There is a way of cooking eggs so that they are good and there is a way of cooking eggs so that they are slimy and nasty and need to be buried under the spring greens and avocado. Write a recipe card to a bridal shower with very clear instructions on how not to undercook eggs. Maybe don't write it in the negative, but don't not make your point. Use your stamping collection to make it look real pretty.

4. Prepare a short but friendly lecture on how actors/writers should call people back in a timely fashion (make sure to point out that a week and a half is not a timely fashion). Give it a happy ending by giving the needy actor the work anyway.

5. Writing exercise in non-writing (plan accordingly because this one could take 2 hours) : stop writing for a moment and see how many cashews you can chew at one time. Then watch the cop car sitting outside. Count up how many cop cars you've seen that day and contemplate if that is a sign for you. A bad sign? Get irritated at the dogs barking. Take a phone call. Watch the couple moving furniture across the street and wonder if they are fighting. Try to guess how heavy that dresser is. Write back to a text. Go outside and look for the cat that doesn't belong to you in case he wants you to hold him (just for a moment). Come back in and make yourself a cup of tea. Eat three blackberries. Brush your teeth to prevent staining. Sit back down to write. Pop up again to look for some lotion for your dry hands. Check your email. Take this quiz to see how long you'll live. Daydream (worry) about what you're supposed to do between living healthily to 78.2 and your expected death at 92. Maybe you'll write books then.

6. Imagine you are coaching someone about weight loss. Ask them all the right questions (for example: ask them if they'd like for you to make them a badge to wear that says "Lil' Asskicker").

7. Make a list of all the calamities that you regret. Imagine what a good screenplay that would make. Kind-of sketch out the plot in your mind. Go ahead and cast it, but DON'T WRITE ANYTHING. You may think of a better idea tomorrow.

8. Pretend you are an actor who just got a casting notice for a Pizza Hut commercial. Think back to the time you worked at Pizza Hut and how you used to smell at the end of every shift. Try to recall all the details...maybe throw in a Nigerian dishwasher who loves to say your name every time you walk by him. Make it like a fantasy story of getting the part and getting paid buttloads of money. Put in obstacles to making any of the fantasy come true like scandals and flat tires. Make it believable.

Hope these help! You're welcome! Happy writing!

Lazy Saturday Mornings

2012-11-26T19:47:00.000-05:00

This short sketch was performed on Saturday, November 17 at Late Night at Live Arts. I was lucky to have a fabulous cast: Miller Murray Susen (Heidi), Jon Cobb (Chloe) and Jen Downey (Jenny). It was directed by Mendy St. Ours (Tammy and Tina's legal guardian).

Lazy Saturday Mornings
by DeeDee Stewart

Cast: Three ladies, Chloe, Heidi, and Jenny, in their 30s-40s

Scene: Saturday morning at a city market. Nanci Griffith’s song, “I Love This Town” is playing as the three women are shopping separately. They dance informally as if it’s a low-key 3-person flash mob.

Chloe: Heidi!

Heidi: (squeals) Shut the front door, Chloe! I totally had a vision last night that I would see you here.

Chloe: I love this sweater! (sweetly suspicious) Did you make this?

Heidi: Yes.

Chloe: It’s gorgeous. How long does one of those take you?

Heidi: I’m slow. Took me all evening. I started it as soon as I walked in the door, before I got the Cauliflower-Saffron soup started -- oh, have I sent you that?

Jenny walks up.

Jenny: This is why I love the market!

Heidi and Chloe hug her.

Chloe: No way. Heidi was just talking about Cauliflower-Saffron soup. Definitely email that to me.

Jenny: Yummm. Send it to me too, if that’s okay.

Chloe: I’ll blog about it.

Heidi does it from her phone.

Jenny: Oh, I love your blog.

Chloe: I started a new one. I’m blogging about EACH email I get. Each one.

Heidi: That’s huge!

Jenny: That’s awesome!

Heidi: Those donuts smell SO good. I’m starving.

Jenny: God, I wish. I’m off flour and sugar and cotton and plastic. Just until Syria calms down.

Chloe: (to Heidi) Are you still training?

Heidi: (groaning) Yes. I’m doing that 300 Mile Race Across the Desert for Glaucoma Awareness in Nevada next week.

Jenny: Did you read that article about how you can get glaucoma from just LOOKING at dyed flowers? Just looking.

Chloe: Insane. (to Heidi) Send me the information about the race. I’ll organize my neighbors and I’ll text all the elementary school parents in Virginia and I bet we could raise $100,000 before you fly out.

Jenny: And I should get you this wax. For your lips. My mom orders it from Africa. It’s from the sweat off monkey’s balls. Um. It’s incredible.

Heidi: That would be tremendous you guys (pushing buttons on her phone). Okay. I just sent you all the info. There you go. (to Jenny) Where’s Claudia?

Jenny: (sighing, proudly) She’s in an emergency evacuation plan event-- it’s the new flash mob, you know-- since the hurricane -- her 4th grade class has been crazy with it. They’re practicing at UVA. 10 years-old and she’s carrying a 300 lb. bypass patient down 20 flights of stairs.

Chloe: Amazing.

Jenny: Bill’s with her -- making a documentary. If he doesn’t take forever editing it -- perfectionist -- we’ll have it ready for the screening at the Paramount by tomorrow night. I hope you guys can stop by.

Heidi: I will definitely check that out. I’m going to chill tonight. Phil is redesigning the house -- we’re going minimalist -- so I’ll be on my own. I’m going to make 50 batches of dried tomato pesto.

Jenny: I love your dried tomato pesto. (to Chloe) Have you had her dried tomato pesto?

Chloe: Now I have to have it.

Heidi: I’ll bring you guys some!

Jenny and Chloe: No, no.

Heidi: It’s easy. After I re-roof the chicken coop, I’ll drop it off tonight.

Jenny: (wincing) Umm...

Heidi: Not in plastic, not in plastic! I’ll walk it over across town in my bare hands in the middle of the night and you can scrape it off into whatever container is best.

Jenny: Well, if it’s easy.

Chloe: You are awesome.

Jenny: I’ll be up. I’ve been building a search engine to compete with Google -- every night until 3am -- I can barely get up in time to make those fucking organic veggie frittatas and--

Chloe: You know what, we push ourselves too hard.

Jenny: (huge sigh) I’m glad someone said it.

Heidi (bursting into tears): You’re right. I’m overwhelmed.

Chloe: I’m exhausted.

Jenny: It’s too much. Way too much.

Heidi: Why do we just keep pushing and pushing and pushing? It’s sick. I’m sick!

Chloe: Well, then all of our friends are sick, too.

Jenny: We’re not alone, that’s for sure.

Chloe: (totally fried) I can’t even take a shit without thinking of a new project!

Jenny: You know what...We should get everyone together to talk about the pressures of being a woman in such a driven, intellectual, multi-talented, organic-minded environment.

Chloe: Let’s keep it to 10 women. No, 250.

Heidi: I could send everyone invitations on paperless post. Hell, I’ll just make the paper myself.

Chloe: We could rent a barn for the weekend so everyone could just get away.

Jenny: Let’s build a barn!

Heidi: Perfect! I could get certified to teach yoga so I could host a yoga session. That would be really relaxing.

Jenny: I’ll build a sacred space in the barn for the yoga.

Chloe: And we have to have wine.

Jenny: Good wine!

Heidi: The best, most relaxing wine. To pick that out, let’s do a wine-tasting every Tuesday for the next 4 Tuesdays...”Tuesday Tastings at 4”.

Chloe: I can’t do 4.

Heidi: 5.

Jenny: I can do 5:04.

They all type it into their phones.

Chloe: Just let me email you guys, myself and my higher power.

Giggle.

Heidi: I’m SO glad we ran into each other.

Chloe: Me, too. I love these lazy Saturday mornings. Have you tried those coconut oil bars? They’re amazing...

Beginning to walk towards the coconut oil bars, they chat these last few lines as they’re walking away.

Jenny: (to Chloe) You smell wonderful by the way.

Chloe: Oh, I started my own essential oils line last month.

Heidi: That’s so cool. I read it was time-consuming to extract all the oils.

Jenny: But totally worth it.

Chloe: So worth it...you have to do it right...

“I Love This Town” comes up again...the ladies dance off.

To produce this 5 minute play or any other 10 minute play from this blog, just email me at deedeestewartproject@gmail.com.

With One Show to Go

2012-08-27T06:17:00.000-04:00

leaving the flat

With one show to go, there are many things on my mind, not the least of which is the question of whether my battery will last long enough to post this post since I forgot my power converter. I'm sitting at the Black Cat Medicine Coffee Shop.

view from the coffee shop

The sound of suitcases on cobblestones is everywhere. It actually sounds like tap dancing -- how appropriate. With 10,000 performers leaving the city over the past few days and many of us wrapping up today, and with the rain coming down right now, you can definitely sense the end. It's so true...it's not with a bang. It does feel like a whimper.

walking towards the Royal Mile

Right after the show today we'll pack up the Barbies and the bedding and the Smurfette t-shirt. We've found a taker for the projector cradle, the cd/ipod player (that I bought for the outdoor performances), the stool and the inflatable bed. I need to find a taker for my UK curling wand and this bottle of nail polish remover that I refuse to let spill out in my suitcase. We'll dump all the posters in the recycling bin. We'll say goodbye to the wonderful Assembly staff, take everything back to the flat and then we're done. We're going out for good Indian food.

the is a city of unlocked bikes and off-leash dogs

There are going to be so many things to miss about Edinburgh. Being a part of this festival is unlike anything I've ever done, and I am changed. But, I would by lying if I didn't say I was ready to pack Dirty Barbie away for a little while. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was really ready to go home.

When the Opposite of Everything is True

2012-08-21T13:33:00.001-04:00

Will Kerner and Mary Coy on The Royal Mile

When the opposite of everything is true, you know you're at the Fringe.
It was pouring down rain a minute ago, and now it is very clear and sunny. Every time I start to think one thing, I think the total opposite is true. The kind of polar feelings that could send you looking for fresh meds. Advice is contradictory here....extremely...and yet, everyone is right. The pace is unlivable and yet the sense of good living, big living, loud living is everywhere. We are surely a nuisance to the locals and yet, they seem to enjoy us so much. Here are some other examples of the extremes I've encountered...

1. Everyone says be disciplined, keep to your routine, take care of yourself. Everyone says go out to bars until 2 am, everyone says go with the flow.

2. You can't help falling in love with other people's shows. You have to stay in love with your own show.

Yesterday, I fell in love with a show called FORMBY.

3. Stars mean nothing. Stars mean everything.

I went to a workshop where an actor/producer said, "Stars are rubbish." "We want to get rid of them. Nobody reads the reviews. They just look at the stars. That's insane." His posters are covered with stars. Don't hate the playa. Hate the reviewa. Or love them. In this world of over 2600 shows, the stars can guide you to what is great, maybe what you shouldn't miss. The stars are coming from one person, though. One gal, one bloke. Maybe they're overexcited. Maybe they don't know shit. Maybe they know exactly what they're talking about. Maybe you will use their quote to open many doors for you. We've gotten three four-star reviews. Hot damn. Wait a second. If you get excited and you feel like you're "buying in". If you don't maximize that press, well, you're a lazy idiot. Most recently, Ciara Knowles from THREE WEEKS said of my show "this is that rare play that many people can connect with, regardless of sex, or nationality." Thanks, Ciara. You just made the top of my little stick-on flyer update. I have to say, I've been going to shows according to word of mouth. That's why I went to FORMBY. That's why I'm going to REMOR tonight.

4. Women are the best. Men are the secret.

talking with a lady about the show, probably about Barbies

I have loved talking to women here about Barbie or Cindy (they are quite divided here on that subject...more on this later). Or talking to them about Edinburgh or the Festival or storytelling or where they've been in the south (once they here my accent) or where I can get tape. But, it's the men who always break the ice during the show and give people permission to laugh. It's always a man. I am grateful for them. Seriously.

5. There is never time to drink enough water. There is always time for beer.

6. Dirty Barbie actually likes to be clean.

A surprising development. I've been tidying. Tidying at night. This must be a universal balancing response to the number of messy artists with whom I am sharing a small square mileage of the universe right now. I don't know if it will stick, but my underwear looks nice in the drawer.

7. Today is my day off. There are no days off.
I did sleep in. I am going to go to lunch with a friend and I will drink wine. I can't wait to see REMOR tonight. But, in the middle of all that, there will be postering and getting stickers on more flyers and checking in with the PR firm and writing back somebody. I'll take a day off when I get home.

8. I miss home. This can't end.
It's true. I miss my husband. I miss my friends. I miss my pets. I miss getting to use my iphone where ever, when ever. But just when you start to long for home for all of it to end, you find you are walking towards your venue and your makeup is in your bag, and there are 45 minutes to go before you load-in your show, and you think, oh shit...I'm in Edinburgh...doing my show. It's incredible here, the people are incredible here. I've done 18 shows, and there are only 6 shows left. I haven't been inside any castles yet. I gotta get on it.

I'll keep looking for opposites. I'll probably keep believing both are true. Like this: I've never been more humbled by the work others are doing, but I've never felt more authority to keep creating.

The Long Walk Home

2012-08-21T05:23:00.002-04:00

Here are a couple of views from my walk home every day

Crossing the Meadows

As I write this, it is raining, but surprisingly for Edinburgh, and continuing with opposites being true, it has been very sunny this month.

The walk up through Marchmont to our flat

Letter to My Producer on My Day Off

2012-08-14T04:13:00.001-04:00

from UNHAPPY BIRTHDAY by Amy Lame at Assembly Theatre

This is a letter to Ray Nedzel, one of my producers for the Dirty Barbie Goes to Edinburgh endeavor. He and my husband, Lance Stewart, were here for the first 8 days of the trip and they, along with Mary and me, cranked out some serious grunt work. I can't say that the days are shorter or easier. Every day here is a little different. I'm getting lost less often, and we all have new friends. The work and the fun and the amazement loom over you equally, actually. Sarah Noyes and Peter Coy arrived to help on August 7. Will Kerner, also a producer, arrived yesterday. Sarah will leave on Thursday. I have an amazing team.

Dear Ray,

We got a new coffee press. I see that you must've told Will that our coffee-making equipment was in the toilet...I see that he packed gear. He also reorganized our fridge upon arrival. We now have a lovely coffee press and no one has been forced to use the strainer and the paper towels. Peter and I agree that five level scoops does the trick. Mary likes it stronger. Sarah says she is off coffee, but she's been sneaking cappuccinos here and there. She is not sneaky at all about the Strongbow, which she took to quickly.

Two big things happened on Sunday: one the fire alarm went off during the middle of the show. I was right in the middle of "Confessions of a Mean Girl" and I heard this noise which I thought was either someone's phone alarm and they needed to go take their medicine -- immediately -- or it was a fire alarm. I heard whispering outside the door and the Assembly ladies came in and quietly evacuated us all out to the street. Turns out the smoke machine that they are doing in Mies Julie set off the fire alarm. We all went back in and I picked up right where I left off. I actually think it was an exciting icebreaker, but hope it wasn't the "most fun" moment for the audience. Second thing: I busted my ass coming out of Assembly Hall and rolled my ankle. I blame the cobblestones...and you. Remember that time we were eating taco salads in June and you told the story of the actor you knew who wasn't taking the best care of himself and then he turned his ankle? That story has been on my mind since then and so, perhaps, it was only a matter of time until I bit it, perhaps it was a self-hex. I shouldn't place those on myself. It's not a bad accident as they go. A very dignified Scottish man felt horribly for me and I know you will be disappointed to know that I missed that moment to convert his pity into a ticket. Dammit!

In addition to the ankle, I sure have signs of FOMO (fear of missing out). Symptoms flare up (feels like someone grinding up my stomach to make a burger of my innards) every time I try to go to bed at a decent time and know that people are out seeing things and drinking and meeting and blah, blah, blah. Also, I have noticed little bumps that I self-diagnose as NDE (not doing enough). These really start itching when I see people hustling. The pharmacy around the corner has nothing to help.

I've been doing my professional development as we planned. I've attended both sessions hosted by Mark Fisher on making your show a success, and one about the media. Both were very helpful.

More networking...Promoter/Presenter Day at Fringe Central

I stumbled into this promoter/presenter session at Fringe Central and managed to talk to about 5 promoters who may be interested in thinking about how the show could move forward in London and other places. The whole thing smacked of "Follow Up City", so I'm on it, Captain.

This is a picture of Sarah updating the flyers.

Sarah in Fringe Central with her trusty paper cutter

It is wonderful to have her here and she's been helping in every capacity. She and Mary went to see Baby Wants Candy last night and they loved it. This is what we now have stapled to the outside of the flyers to update our press, and it REALLY helps in the conversation starting on the street:

“Stewart is vibrant…a master…reminiscent of a young Doris Day at times…the audience were laughing uproariously and clearly enchanted.” --FringeReview.com

Top 5 Pick for Edinburgh 2012 Festival Fringe –Daily Record

“Deeply poignant humour by an accomplished and endearing performer.” –Fest

“Stewart plunges into this autobiographical play with energy and verve…funny, poignant…there is no doubting the sincerity of this heartfelt material nor its raw emotional appeal.” – The Scotsman

“An empathetic presence radiating with joy” –The Huffington Post

“Impressive acting talent…the audience will enjoy this high-energy, emotionally-charged performance.” –STV

Pete and Mary are SO EXCELLENT at talking to people about the show. They are flyering -in-motion, and our building audience numbers are greatly do to the quality work they are doing at REALLY talking to people about the show. They have clout, you know, and are fully-clothed, which is quite a difference on the Royal Mile, and it reads even stronger than the Dirty Barbie t-shirts.

As you can tell from the opening picture, we made it to Unhappy Birthday. I think you would've liked it. It's definitely the most interactive piece we've gone to and I ended up with red lipstick all over my face and I had to chase her around the room and later that night we found red lipstick around my ear. Lots of Morrissey songs.


D and Sarah at UNHAPPY BIRTHDAY...we were obviously not unhappy attendees

We are officially at the halfway mark. We've completed 12 shows and we have 12 to go. We are all looking forward to this day off, and yes, we're all going to see shows, shows, shows, starting with And the Girls in Their Sunday Dresses at Assembly. I would list all the shows (I've seen 15 so far), but my wi-fi is making linking so difficult and slow that I will save that for another day and a stronger connection.

Sarah will only be here through Thursday morning and I'm trying not to be sad about that as we will make the most of the next two days and I don't feel like being sad about anything yet. Having said that, Saturday was my hardest day here. I knew Lance was taking Ron to Catawba and I wished so badly to be there to drop off that precious cargo and to subject him to all my Catawba advice on the ride down there. Maybe it's just as well that I wasn't there, but that didn't stop me from sobbing at Fringe Central while trying to email. Oh boy....when major life events collide...I'm an empty-nester now.

The news from the show is that I think it's getting better. I'm using these performances to crack open my storytelling. I feel much looser, more connected to the audience. Women from Brazil and Sweden and Spain have loved the show -- there is no doubting that this is an incredible time. Talking to older men from Scotland who laugh and laugh during the show has been the boost of a lifetime.

News from the team is that you and Lance are missed. That was such an incredibly busy and important 8 days that you were here and we invoke your name often (especially when I was drinking your last two cans of Scrappy Jack) and say, "Thanks, Ray!" I hear you will be in rehearsal soon for Clybourne Park at Live Arts. Congratulations.

In addition to seeing shows, I am going to try and eat some fruits and vegetables today. A little nutritional reboot before shows 13-24 wouldn't hurt.

Your advice from afar is always welcome. Write me back soon.

Sorry so sloppy,

Denise

p.s. the Scottish actor who goes on right after me said that he's been eavesdropping a bit on my show and that I remind him of Truman Capote with my accent. "It's haunting, isn't it?" he said. That's me....I'm a spooky (and short) little devil...

Preview One: a good day at the Fringe

2012-08-02T23:39:00.000-04:00

Ray says... Good day one preview.

Well, we were working the Royal Mile, papering the house a bit, when we got a phone call from the Press Office that the Scotsman (the top newspaper in Scotland) wanted to send a reviewer today. Dee and I thought we should say yes, even though we hadn't had time for a run in tech (long repair on damaged projector -- damn you Air France.)

At bottom of page, another delightful surprise. (fringe top tips)

And the show when great. Dee Dee was a pro from day one. And we were just over half full, including a man who graduated from UVA some 25 years ago (and his family). So here's a bit of the excitement after a successful, out of the gates running, first preview:

Oh, so and then, someone on the street tells us that Dirty Barbie was a top pick of the Daily Record -- maybe the top pick. Read the article here: So, see it was a good day.

Dirty Barbie Preps for Tech

2012-08-01T11:23:00.000-04:00

Dee Dee rolls into the her tech rehearsal pausing by at 1 meter tall picture of herself to take it all in and welcome you to the Fringe and her wonderful home for the next month, Assembly Hall:

1 Day to Edinburgh....finishing the list

2012-07-28T07:53:00.000-04:00

Preparing for Airport Security

~~print boarding passes~~

~~weigh your big ass bag~~

Over a year ago, in a gesture of optimism (and probably procrastination), I added a feature to my Google homepage. I added a little square that showed me a different picture from Edinburgh throughout the day. Castles, girls dancing, big views. Just the act of doing that was supposed to help me GET to those places. That's all kooked up, right? Bananas, yea? I also added one below it of New York City (that was from instant-cameras around the city, so those are more like shots of people crossing the street).

I believe, as usual, that I have overpacked. Right now, it ALL seems necessary. Must get scale and see if bag is over 50 pounds.

~~pack medicine~~

This morning, as there is nothing left but packing toiletries, making extra-love to the cat, and finishing this list before I set off on a month-long trip to perform my show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, I have to give those little scrolling shots a shout out. I should be in Scotland by lunch tomorrow. I plan to pop an Ambien somewhere in the air between Chicago and London. Three weeks ago I was in New York with my play. While clicking through that homepage earlier this week on the way to my gmail, I got a new email -- an invitation to go back to New York for three performances in October at an arts festival. Was it the scrolling shots?

fix hem on dress

download songs for show on iphone

~~buy bra~~

I bought a bra at Belks yesterday. The saleslady exclaimed, "Oh! This one fits like a glove!" I need a new bra, not a new glove, but SOLD. I have developed the uncanny ability to work my trip into almost ANY conversation ("Yes, beans and rice, no peppers, yes sour cream, I'm going to Scotland, yes guac"), so as our transaction ended with how I needed to remember my Bra & Panty Club Card next time and bring my receipt and she would catch me up she asked if she could go with me to Scotland. Like most people I talk to, she says she has ALWAYS wanted to go to Scotland. What makes me so lucky? What really good piece of advice do I have to make this happen?

Update Google homepage.

~~call bank~~

I've called the bank to say I'm finally going somewhere interesting, so don't card block me when I try to buy haggis.

Kris

I need to text my sister one more time while it's easy.

do Tracy Anderson dvd

I was hoping to work out one more time. I keep picturing Europeans seeing my flabby arms and saying, "Look, they don't even try."

Straighten the basement

Screw it. Right before a trip, there's always a certain amount of straightening I do. A friend says she does this, too, so that she comes back to a neat house. I do it in case I die. I don't want my sister and mother-in-law and best friends to have a hard time finding things (like surfaces).

thank Kate

On Thursday night, my friend, Kate, threw a Bon Voyage party for me. During the evening, there were two "reverse striptease" performances by my friends that I will not soon forget. When the whole crowd is chanting, "Put it on, Put it on", you know you're in a dirty place. My friends came and they overpaid me for tshirts and helped me switch gears into full-on Dirty Barbie machine. At this point, it's hard to express the level of gratitude I feel without ruining any street cred I have left, so I'll just say I'm a very lucky lady and I know it.

~~Write a blogpost~~

Will write soon from Edinburgh! xo, deedee

Dirty Barbie Does DC...Again!

2012-07-18T13:48:00.001-04:00

Elizabeth (Dirty Barbie's publicist) here again! I'm updating you on DeeDee's behalf as I suspect she's holed up in her adorable light-filled office, working with an exhaustion-fueled frenzy. Better yet, maybe she's sleeping. Girlfriend's been running hard.

Anyway, GOOD NEWS for every DeeDee-lover in DC. After an uber-successful NYC premier (check out this review and this review and let's all have a drink), Dirty Barbie will pack her bags once again. She's headed to DC's The Corner Store for a two-day reprise of her childhood tales--her last performances before the Edinburgh Fringe!

The Corner Store, a nonprofit arts center on 9th and S. Carolina SE, hosted Dirty Barbie earlier this year. They're totally jazzed to relive the baby dolls, Nutter Butters and tantrums with "a return engagement of this hilarious and fearless performer."

The Venue which Cannot Get Enough

If you, like The Corner Store, can't get enough of the Dirty Barbie goodness, or if you just want to see the show Stateside, head to DC and buckle up for this one-hour wild ride. The show performs at this Saturday, July 21st at 8PM, and Sunday, July 22nd at 4PM. Tickets are $15 in advance, $20 at the door.

Hope to see you there!

Dirty Barbie Does NYC!

2012-07-11T09:27:00.003-04:00

Hey NYC readers! This is Elizabeth, Dirty Barbie's publicist, with the details of DeeDee's Big Apple performances. Her hilarious one-woman show opened last night, but you've still got time to catch it. Here's the scoop (and a sale!):

WHO: DysFUNctional Story Lovers in the Tri-State Area

WHAT: Four Three Performances of Dirty Barbie & Other Girlhood Tales

WHERE: 59E59 Theater, located at 59 East 59th St (go figure) b/t Madison and Park Avenues

WHEN: Tonight, July 11 at 9PM | Thursday, July 12 at 9PM | Saturday, July 14 at 9PM

WHY: Because Dirty Barbie is awesome. Also for 59E59's East to Edinburgh festival, which features new shows en route to the Festival Fringe in August.

EXTRA, EXTRA!

MORE WORDS: A talkback will follow tonight's performance.

CHEAP BOOZE: 59E59's theater bar will offer a drink special tonight. Only $7 for their signature Aidatini!

BLOGGER BONUS: Tickets are normally $15 (a steal for a night out in the city), but we just received a special blogger discount code! If you're a blogger, you can get your ticket for just $10. Comment below or email me (ehderb@gmail.com) for details.

See you at the show!

23 Days to Edinburgh -- Poster time

2012-07-06T20:41:00.000-04:00

59 More Shows to See

2012-07-05T14:46:00.003-04:00

Guest post by Ray.

59 Shows to see? OK not 59, but 16 shows to see at 59E59.

Dirty Barbie and other girlhood tales will make it's NY debut as part of the East to Edinburgh Festival at 59E59.

This is a great chance to see some wonderful shows in July, in NYC, each headed to the Edinburgh Fringe -- the world's largest theatre festival in August, in Scotland.

Here's the full details from 59E59 Theatres.

JUL 10 - JUL 29

59E59 Theaters presents

EAST TO EDINBURGH 2012

EAST TO EDINBURGH returns to 59E59 with sixteen new shows on their way to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe - catch them here, before they cross the pond!

DIRTY BARBIE AND OTHER GIRLHOOD TALES

In 1978, a mother, newly widowed, moved her family from the wide, open spaces of Wyoming to a tiny town in North Carolina. Spinning tales on scarlet fever, scotch over ice and girls gone wild, DeeDee Stewart puts the 'fun' back in dysfunctional.

$15 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50)
July 10, 11, 12, 14 at 9

Buy tickets for DIRTY BARBIE AND OTHER GIRLHOOD TALES here

MICHAEL POPE IS GAY FOR PAY Pope's stranger than fiction tale of a mystery job in the Empire State Building and discovering himself to be the world's greatest phone sex operator - a rollercoaster ride of absurdity, obscenity and the true spiritual meaning of 'nothing left to lose'.$20 (59E59 MEMBERS $14) July 10, 11, 14 at 7

Buy tickets for MICHAEL POPE IS GAY FOR PAY here

LISTEN! THE RIVER A tough-talking cat, a one-eyed dog, a reluctant fiancé, his sexy betrothed and a bible-toting mother flow through this story of love, loss and new beginnings. $15 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50) July 12, 13 at 7; July 15 at 4
Buy tickets for LISTEN! THE RIVER here

MADE FOR EACH OTHER What kind of man proposes marriage on the first date, and what kind of man says 'yes'? Gay marriage meets Alzheimer's in this uplifting and funny drama about sex, love, and the power of memory. $18 (59E59 MEMBERS $12.60) July 13, 27 at 9; July 15, 18 at 7
Buy tickets for MADE FOR EACH OTHER here

CAPTAIN FERGUSON'S SCHOOL FOR BALLOON WARFARE Inspired by true events surrounding WWI, this solo-performance chronicles the patriotism and misguided genius of U.S. Army Capt. Thomas Ferguson. $18 (59E59 MEMBERS $12.60) July 14 at 2; July 20 at 5
Buy tickets for CAPTAIN FERGUSON'S SCHOOL FOR BALLOON WARFARE here

I HEART HAMAS: AND OTHER THINGS I'M AFRAID TO TELL YOU Join Jennifer on auditions, bad dates and across military checkpoints as she explores becoming Palestinian-ized, then politicized and eventually radicalized in this fresh, often funny, searingly honest show. $20 (59E59 MEMBERS $14) July 14 at 4; July 15 at 2
Buy tickets for I HEART HAMAS: AND OTHER THINGS I'M AFRAID TO TELL YOU here

EAT $H*T: HOW OUR WASTE CAN SAVE THE WORLD The Puru plunges the depths of our constipated culture. Brown's the New Green in the show that's changing the world one flush at a time! $15 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50) July 17 at 7; July 22 at 4
Buy tickets for EAT $H*T: HOW OUR WASTE CAN SAVE THE WORLD here

CLOONEY, COWELL, PITT AND ME: AMUSING ENCOUNTERS WITH THE A-LIST Ever wondered what the biggest stars in Hollywood are really like? Find out from the man who has met them all, in this rollicking one man show from leading British entertainment reporter Sandro Monetti. Watch the trailer here! $12 (59E59 MEMBERS $8.50) July 17, 18 at 9; July 21 at 2
Buy tickets for CLOONEY, COWELL, PITT AND ME: AMUSING ENCOUNTERS WITH THE A-LIST here

DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE A dead man! His ringing cell phone! Pulitzer Prize finalist Sarah Ruhl's Dead Man's Cell Phone takes up our mundane capacity to connect in a world a-twitter with technology. $15 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50) July 19, 20 at 7; July 21 at 4
Buy tickets for DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE here

DIRTY PAKI LINGERIE Sex, Religion, and Politics collide as six Pakistani-American Muslim females air their dirty lingerie... 'Breaks down stereotypes of Muslim women in America' - The Wall Street Journal $20 (59E59 MEMBERS $14) July 19, 20, 21 at 9
Buy tickets for DIRTY PAKI LINGERIE here

MOD Fab! Irreverent! Totally Groovy! Original musical rocks 59E59 Theaters. Inspired by the British pop of the early 1960s. Teen angst set against the backdrop of the Beatles' invasion of America. $20 (59E59 MEMBERS $14) July 21, 22, 26, 27, 28, 29 at 7
Buy tickets for MOD here

A MAN FOR ALL TIMES: W.E.B. DU BOIS Martin Luther King. Remembered. Revered. W.E.B. Du Bois, a major Civil Rights Activist, largely forgotten. Pulse Theatre remedies this with this inspiring drama. $20 (59E59 MEMBERS $14) July 22 at 2; July 24, 25 at 7
Buy tickets for A MAN FOR ALL TIMES: W.E.B. DU BOIS here

TENDERPITS From the creators of FringeNYC 2009 Outstanding Solo Show Art's Heart, Tenderpits is the incredible 100% half-true story of a young wizard's immigration from the wilderness of Canada to New York City. $18 (59E59 MEMBERS $12.60) July 24, 25, 26 at 9
Buy tickets for TENDERPITS here

DEATH BOOGIE Death Boogie is a multimedia Hip Hop Poetry Musical that follows the fictional story of Victor Spartan, a blue collar worker who lives a comatose lifestyle by day and at night, hears the poetic sounds of revolution. $12 (59E59 MEMBERS $8.50) July 28 at 2
Buy tickets for DEATH BOOGIE here

VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE Inspired by a study showing that hallucinogenic mushrooms can effectively treat obsessive compulsive disorder, award-winning standup Adam Strauss embarked on a program of vigilante psychopharmacology. $12 (59E59 MEMBERS $8.50) July 28, 29 at 4 Buy tickets for

VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE here 3 BY POE Three superb horror stories with a common theme - revenge! Cask of Amontillado and Tell Tale Heart are performed by the murderers; Hop-Frog, by Poe himself. $12 (59E59 MEMBERS $8.50) July 28 at 9; July 29 at 2
Buy tickets for 3 BY POE here

$12.00 (59E59 MEMBERS $8.50)

$15.00 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50)$18.00 (59E59 MEMBERS $12.60)$20.00 (59E59 MEMBERS $14.00)

Dirty Barbie t-shirts

2012-07-03T19:08:00.000-04:00

Welcome to Dirty Barbie's t-shirt shop!

Many of you have asked me..."Where can I get a t-shirt?" Well, now I can help you. My inventory is made up of two kinds of t-shirts:

1. Brand new white, feminine short-sleeve t-shirts. I have these in small, medium and large. They are 98% cotton and 2% spandex, so they hold up very well through multiple washings and they are form-fitting (yes...vavavoom).

2. Second-hand one-of-a-kind shirts. These have been very popular. Two more sold today to my friends. Once these are gone they are gone, because I only have one of each kind that I hand-picked locally (yes, kind-of like a tomato).

Here, in this video, I walk you through my inventory:

I've tried to set this up so that you can buy them online and then I can ship it to you or figure out a way to pick it up if you live in Charlottesville. Please email me at deedeeslivingwill@gmail.com if you have ANY problems or questions.

Talk to the Back of My Head...It's Easier this Way

2012-07-01T11:06:00.000-04:00

as "Miller Time" for CLAW..photo by Billy Hunt

Guest Post by Miller Murray Susen

Note from DeeDee: I'm sharing with you today the writing of Miller Murray Susen. Those of us who get to read her Facebook updates know what it's like to read what she writes and cry, "More, more, more!" So, I asked her if she would give me more -- a guest post about being an actor and a mother...

I was driving my kids across town to swim team. I often bring up difficult or complicated subjects with them in the car, because they seem more comfortable telling the back of my head about their feelings--the front has all of my eye and mouth bits, after all. I had gotten my news the night before, and it seemed like as good a time as any to share it.

“So, guys!” I began in a carefully cheerful tone. “You know that play I auditioned for earlier this week?” I got a couple of muffled “Mmm”s and pressed on. “Well, you’ll never guess what? I got the part!”  I looked in the rearview mirror to gauge their reactions. Neither of them said a word, but the weary look of resignation they exchanged spoke volumes.

The first time I got cast in a play as a real, actual grown-up was 3 years ago. My son was 2, and my daughter was 5. The show was RENT, and I only had an ensemble role, but that was really all I could handle. I’d sung nothing but lullabies since 2004, danced only the late-night baby bop, acted by embodying the real-life drama queen I was born to be, but nothing more, you know, formal.

Combining the work of the play with the work of stay at home parenting was tricky. Rehearsals were 5 nights a week and I’d get home around 10:30 pm and then buzz around the house unable to come down. My son is an early riser, so sleeping time was squeezed. During the long, hazy days I volunteered at the kids’ schools, and let me tell you making blueberry muffins with eighteen 5 year olds on 5 hours of sleep is what I imagine a bad trip feels like. Coordinating a babysitting schedule of military-grade precision was also extra challenging for my wooly head, but my husband’s frequent work travel demanded it. One thing I didn’t do, that I’m sure my kids wish I had, is punt on dinner. I needed to eat before rehearsal, too, so I held the line on the homemade evening meal, which meant we had to be sitting down to eat by 6 pm, which meant I had to be prepping by 4:30, which meant I had to really be on top of the flow of the afternoons, which meant... I basically spent 3 months as a blur of quick-talking, baggy-eyed mom flesh, like an Aaron Sorkin character but with no clever quips.

I even missed being the Easter Bunny that year--our last performance was the Saturday night before Easter Sunday, and we had to strike the whole set plus make terrible decisions at the cast party, so I slept for 3 hours before stumbling down to watch the kids uncover the melty chocolate my husband had quickly stashed around the backyard. There was not enough coffee in the world to make it a happy Easter. The exhaustion was so extreme it was all I could do not to look into the joyful, chocolate-smeared face of my 5 year old and snarl, “Really? You think a huge bunny hopped around the yard last night and hid that candy? YOU REALLY THINK THAT COME ON!”

The experience of the show, though, was electrifying. I reconnected with my love of performance in a big way. For me there are not many highs higher than hollering music that makes your heart hammer to a packed house of happy people.

We as a family wound up the experience of mom doing a musical basically intact, but the house was a wreck, my nerves were shot, my relationship with my co-parent was threadbare, we were hundreds of dollars in the hole from the babysitting, and I hadn’t seen any non-theater friends for an entire season of the year. It felt so good to ease back into a schedule centered around the kids--no more sitters or hurried meals, a tidier house, and a less preoccupied mom. But. But... I told my family I wouldn’t do any more plays for a while, in recognition of how much easier our life is when I’m not trying to do my job while also working nights. But the bottom line is that I’d tasted Paris, and it was just too hard to be back on the farm full time forever.

I don’t do the performing for anyone but me. People will say things trying to make me feel better about it, like, “it’s good for your kids to see you happy,” and “pursuing something you love teaches them to do the same,” and blah well-meaning blah. But I don’t have any illusions about this--my performing really isn’t fun for them, they just tolerate it. If I cared about centering our household around them and providing gold-standard parenting, I wouldn’t do any more performing until they were out of the house. It’s just a fact.

But I love it. And I love them. And while never the twain shall meet, the twain shall co-exist as comfortably as possible for as long as we can swing it.

 Miller Murray Susen has 23 first cousins on her father's side of the family. She likes a nice hummus, avocado, and sriracha sandwich. Her son is going into kindergarten in the fall, which means both of her children will be in school all day, which means she needs to get her crap collected, but... Well, it's still summer, I guess. She acts, sings, competes in triathlons, picks up after people, bakes, paints, makes beds, edits, arm wrestles, took guitar lessons for a while, and has a blog you can't read because it isn't ready yet. You can follow her on Twitter if you've nothing better to do @A_momynous.

Miller's next upcoming role will be "Diana" in the musical I LOVE YOU BECAUSE at Four County Players in Barboursville, Virginia. It opens September 7, 2012.

30 Days to Edinburgh...Kathy Doby is a Completist!

2012-06-28T23:17:00.001-04:00

party favors

All photos by Martin Kyle of Pernmoot Photography.

On June 23, 2012, there was a Dirty Barbie benefit at Live Arts here in Charlottesville, Virginia. We sold $100 tickets for a cocktail party, the show, dessert, new never-seen before-material, an open bar and dancing. All proceeds would go to helping me take my show and my team to the Edinburgh Fringe Fest. It sold out...here are my tips to how to have a successful benefit. I don't have tips on how to do it and not go crazy. Good events are "full immersion" (as Ray says) things. The dunking may make you crazy.

1. Find a completist. Not a perfectionist. A completist.

This is Kathy Doby. This is a Barbie cake. You bake a cake and then you stick a Barbie in it, and then you decorate it with pearls. You make her a bodice out of icing. I mean, you do if you're Kathy Doby, who is one of the best completists I've ever met. Forget perfectionists. Find a completist and your life will get better instantly. Yes, she'll complete you. Completists make things perfect in a sneaky way. They make you happy. They make your people happy. They think it all the way through and then they deliver. BOOM. TOTALLY. In March, she asked me if she could help me with anything, and I immediately said, "Yes, please help me with the benefit on June 23." We didn't really talk about it much more until three weeks before the benefit. She decided that the party favors would be handpainted wine glasses. She organized a group of ladies to come to her house and paint 70 wine goblets. She said it was a great time. She thought that there should be Barbie cakes. When I told her we should go "eclectic Southern cocktail party" -- she was on it. She found a Barbie car with a sunroof and put a dish of nuts in the top. She strung up Barbie clothes. She sprinkled Barbie shoes about. She brought vases and red velvet cupcakes.

2. Set a price tag that makes your head explode a little each time you hear it then plan an event that's better than the price tag.

3. Get over the fact that your one-woman show has never been a one-woman show.

The amount of help I've had is staggering sometimes. Sometimes I think what have I dragged all these innocent people into and then sometimes I think I'm so glad I'm not working at a bank and sometimes I'm so glad that the process now involves more people because I used to get so lonely in the basement rehearsing. The truth is...it's always been populated...with the past, with the people who always ask me "What are you writing?" with the people who come to the show, with the people who are donating their money to send me.

Ray and Stephanie and Mary help me!

4. When someone asks, "Oh! Who's the benefit for?" Say, "Me."

More than once someone would hear about the benefit (usually because I was talking about it) and they would say, "Oh! Who's the benefit for?" What could I tell 'em? Not for lost kitties. Not for wounded soldiers. For me. To take my bahounkas (that is not Scottish for Barbies) over to Scotland and trot my stories upon those famous stages. Your $100 goes to me.

5. Get Kathy Doby a wingwoman and ask your friends for one more thing.

Stephanie Ryan signed on as Kathy's partner. That woman can lay out a cheese plate that will make your head spin. Someone complimented one of the producers on the food. They said it was all so good and that it seemed homemade. Baby, it was. I bought the booze and I bought a ton of kebobs (thanks, Sticks, for the big discount!), but for the rest of it...I asked my friends to make a dish and bring a bottle of wine or a six pack of good beer and drop it off between 4:30 and 6:30. Sian at Market Street Wine Shop helped me figure out the pours. Christina made bruschetta and brought beer. Carla made delicate veggie wraps with peanut sauce. Jen made shortbread...oh the shortbread...it went on and on like that. I have wonderful friends.

6. Promise shrimp kebobs and champagne and shortbread with lavender essence.

6. Promise more than you think you can deliver.

unusually thoughtful before a show

I'm usually just dancing to Lady Gaga on Pandora before the show, but for the benefit I had promised new material, and this would be the first time I had covered this ground. Some heavier shit. I came up with a formal answer to the most frequently asked questions from the talkbacks. It was "intense" I heard. Hold it down and wear it out and flip it to the backside and pop it in your pocket and make like a bandit and then slip into something that sometimes fits and call it good, right?

7. Listen to the optimists on your team. They believe it will sell out even when you've only sold 13 tickets.

Because it's so much harder to rally on your own, meet regularly with your team. Over a bowl of tomato soup, we (Will, Ray, Elizabeth, d) rallied. We rallied. It sold. Huge part of my budget and we did it. Honestly, I didn't believe it would, but they did.

8. Don't stop to do laundry. Buy more panties at Kmart.

9. Find a way to get on the radio.

Many thanks to Brad Savage for having me on his morning show on opening night! After this aired, the last third of the benefit tickets sold! Thanks, Brad and the 106.1 listeners.

10. When Kathy Doby tells you it's okay to go downstairs and do "your thing", go downstairs and do your thing.

She's a completist. She's got it. Get out of her hair. Go do your little thing. That thing you do. Go play with your makeup.

working on the extra material

with Mary Coy in her Dirty Barbie t-shirt

talkback after the show..why is my hair so frizzy?

11. Dance. Always. Before bed or instead or like your life is a damn good country song.

dj and dancing stylings of Mendy St. Ours (another completist)

So many thanks to Ray Nedzel, Darryl Smith, Will Kerner, Mary Coy, Peter Coy, Lance Stewart, Martin Kyle, Christine Gresser, Jenny Walsh, Cathy O'Hara, Katy Hood, Doreen Feldman, Bill and Joan Rough, Susan Jacobson, John Conover, Ava Baum, Becky Bassett, Sarah Denham, Christina Downey, Mandy Strider, Mendy St. Ours, Matt Joslyn, and all others who helped to make the benefit such a great night.

Interested in donating to the Dirty Barbie Goes to Edinburgh Campaign? Click here.

Five More Shows - Let's look at Traverse

2012-06-25T09:51:00.002-04:00

Guest Post by Ray Nedzel
Well, we just wrapped the Charlottesville shows - and each one was Sold Out.
Dee Dee and I and a friend spent Sunday morning cleaning out the theatre, reception room, and rooftop patio at Live Art where last night we hosted a very special night -- made even lovelier by Kathy Doby and all her wonderful catering vision. If you missed it, you missed it.

Any way....

The next chance to see Dirty Barbie before Scotland is in NYC at the 59E59 East to Edinburgh festival.

This is part of a festival that only features show that are confirmed to go to Edinburgh.

DIRTY BARBIE AND OTHER GIRLHOOD TALES

$15 (59E59 MEMBERS $10.50)

July 10, 11, 12, 14 at 9

Now, let's take a look a what The Traverse Theatre has on in August in Edinburgh. Why focus on one theatre. Well, the Traverse Theatre, a permanent Edinburgh theatre, has proven over the years to be the best collection of Theatre. See, there are many categories of performance at the Fringe: Theatre, Comedy, Physical Theatre, Musical, Solo, Verbatim, etc. And for really good theatre, a great place to start is The Traverse Theatre:

BLINK

This is the tale of Jonah, Sophie, and a fox called Scruffilitis. It’s a love story. A dysfunctional, voyeuristic and darkly funny love story, but a love story all the same. A new play by Bruntwood Playwriting Prize winner Phil Porter, Blink is an exciting collaboration between Soho Theatre - London’s most vibrant venue for new writing, comedy and cabaret – and internationally acclaimed, Fringe First winners Nabokov.

As of 1.52pm GMT on Friday April 27th 2012, This Show Has No Title.

Another Show by Daniel Kitson? I know, you know, but he's just a lovely story teller/performer/comedian, so maybe I have a little crush, but I bet the show will be worth putting on your list.

BULLET CATCH

A stunt so dangerous Houdini refused to attempt it, the Bullet Catch has claimed the lives of at least 12 illusionists, assistants and spectators since its conception in 1613. Now, with a little help from his audience, modern-day marvel William Wonder presents a unique theatrical magic show featuring storytelling, mind reading, levitation, games of chance and, if you're brave enough to stay for it, the most notorious finale in show business. ‘Profound ... hugely entertaining.’ **** (Herald). **** (Scotsman).

MORNING

One of the great things about the Fringe is the overwhelming abundance of World Premieres.

Here's one from Lyric in London:
The end of summer. Two friends about to go their separate ways. But they will always share that one moment. A moment changed them forever.

The world premier of a dark new coming of age play by acclaimed playwright Simon Stephens (Pornography, Sea Wall, Punk Rock); Lyric Hammersmith Artistic Director Sean Holmes (the Olivier award winning Blasted, Saved, Ghost Stories) and performed by the Lyric Young Company.

ALL THAT IS WRONG

Good title, nice image and the description of this show from Belgium contains a reference to "Barbies."

In Once And For All, she burned Barbie dolls and analysed what others were thinking. In Teenage Riot she gave tips to become like a bag of bones and looked at adults as caged animals. Koba Ryckewaert is now eighteen and she knows all sorts of things are wrong in the world. She just needs to get a grip on them. She’s better at writing than at talking, so she draws. On the floor. Starting with herself. No lover, so: Lonely. Loneliness brings boredom. Being bored can be solved with money, e.g. for a better computer. But the money's not there: mother unemployed, due to: economic crisis. And what could she do to resolve it? Neither everything, nor nothing. In All That Is Wrong, Koba faces things alone. But she makes choices. Only to stick to them.

Wellllll..... there's 5 more to see at the Festival. But the best thing to do is go to the site, go grab a Fringe Guide, page through and take a chance on something that to you looks good.

Getting ready, getting excited,

Ray

3 More Things Dirty Barbie Taught Me About Life, Love and the Universe

2012-06-20T00:15:00.001-04:00

Guest Post by Elizabeth Derby
Well, DeeDee-holics, this is it. The night before the night you’ve all been waiting for.

In less than 24 hours, Dirty Barbie will make her triumphant return to the Live Arts stage in Charlottesville, VA. She’ll perform her one-hour piece of history for a sold-out audience, then do it again on Thursday—and again on Friday.

At this point, the only tickets remaining are the hottest in town: those to Saturday night’s Fancy Pants Benefit AKA Lavender Shortbread & Brand-New Material Fest AKA Champagne & Southern Cocktail Party AKA Dirty Barbie’s last night in C’ville for quite some time. Check out The Daily Progress’s excellent article about it here.

Personally, I plan to stake a claim in the very front row of opening night. I know I’ll laugh and probably cry and leave the theater waving my fist about Art and Honesty and The Importance of Self-Expression. No doubt I’ll feel the same stab of writer’s guilt I felt when I saw the show back in November—that gnawing sense that the world is full of clever, soulful women determined to tell their stories, and if I want to build my very best life I’d better stand up and join them.

On that note, I’ll forgo my creative writing assignment for one more night. I’d rather share five more things I learned from the last two weeks of my life—AKA my tenure as publicist for Dirty Barbie—and why this experience might just be one for the history books.

Lesson 4 (1-3 here). When in doubt, overdress—or underdress strategically.

The easiest method for giving away flyers (other than stand directly in the flow of foot traffic and thrust paper at every passerby)? Wear a skirt short enough to attract attention, then speak as soon as you catch someone’s eye. This probably goes double for dudes.

Lesson 5: Choose your names wisely.

You probably didn’t choose your own name, but you’ll have other opportunities to make this choice. You might have kids or pets or Pet Rocks, I don’t know, or you might create businesses or baby works of art. Thanks to Dirty Barbie’s kick-ass name, I stuck the message in spite of myself. Like the time I piped up in Spin Class: “there’s a [pant] seriously awesome [pant pant] show that you, like, [pant pant pant] have to check out” [collapse over the handlebars]. Fortunately, I recovered my breath enough to say the words “Dirty Barbie,” and a series of appreciative smiles and head nods spread like sweat waves across the room.

Lesson 6: Community is power.

Hive, tribe, group, team: social media marketers use so many synonyms that the word community sounds almost silly. But Dirty Barbie reaffirmed my respect for that oft-referenced notion of networking. Sometimes people do appear offline, in real, non-digital displays of artistic support or neighborly affection. From heartfelt cheers during Art Drinks shout-outs to promo stunt buy-in from local strangers, this show’s promotion felt organic and easy—comfortable as a woven sweater.

When I moved to Charlottesville nine months ago, I never imagined any of this. If you had told me I'd stand on the mall wearing a small orange dress--well, I'd believe you up to that point. If you'd continued to forecast that I'd be armed with pink flyers, cajoling Lady Arm Wrestling fans into nights at the theater, I'd have reminded you, gently, that I was a writer. In 2011 I believed that by now I'd have scripted my way into an ivory tower, not labored over blog posts extolling small-town connections and my unscripted place within them. Believe me when I say, for the first and possibly last time ever, I am so happy I was wrong.

Bonus Lesson as It Relates to Life, Love and the Universe: Whether you watch or write or live your story, be sure to enjoy the show!

And say hello if you go to Wednesday's performance. I'll be the girl with the glasses and inspiration-fueled mood swings.