New haircut. But Belle’s not even giving me a cursory glance to check it out. Rude.

If you have a runner in your house, you probably have an infestation of these little guys crawling among your rotting piles of leftover-pasta shoelaces

Goodbye, stalwart Anytime Fitness

You’ve been a perfectly nice and serviceable gym for the last three years, but I haven’t stepped foot in you since I started race training in March. And now that running season is over, I’m gonna get swole with running buddy Rob at his much bigger, much more convenient (and slightly cheaper) gym this winter. I have to say that turning in my key fob and canceling my membership just now was surprisingly emotional and difficult, but only because your new manager is holy-shit hot. Holy shit.

The n is for no-shave Tuesday. It’s lowercase because you can barely tell.

Two days until the carnage!

Remember when stable genius pretended to want a space force and lied about working to get one up and running using thoughts and prayers because he doesn’t understand science? Good times.

Secrets of #ElfTheMusical theater magic, Lesson 2:

The Greenway Press employees who are “sitting in their cubes” STAGE RIGHT are actually “squatting behind some wooden things on wheels and smiling enthusiastically and attentively for our artfully composed group selfie UNLIKE the not-attention-paying ninnymugginses STAGE LEFT who took forever to notice me for their artfully composed portraiture last night.”

The more you know (sparkly shooting star!)

When you’re in a show

and when it’s over you race to another theater to catch the end of a show you have a bunch of friends in and then you catch the end of a wedding reception and then you catch the end of a cast party where you have a jalapeño burger you soon learn to regret and you finally get home at 2:30 am to take your Saturday pm bipolar meds really late and you carefully calculate that you should take your Sunday am meds about 11:00 to keep them somewhat evenly paced but when you go to take your am meds at 11:00 you discover that in all your careful late-night planning you accidentally took them last night and WELL SHIT:

masc4masc

I’m sorry but I went to a wedding reception after tonight’s Elf the Musical performance was all applauded and bowed and as I was getting dressed I realized I had exactly one ironed shirt and it was a difficult shade of blue which is probably why it was my last ironed shirt in the first place but I was out of time so I had to build my entire evening’s reception-appropriate ensemble around my difficult-shade-of-blue-last-ironed-shirt ... AND I KILLED IT. But nobody took my picture so I had to do it myself when I got home and YES I HAVE A PICTURE OF CINDERELLA IN MY BEDROOM SHUT UP.

Secrets of #ElfTheMusical theater magic, Lesson 1:

The Greenway Press employees who are “sitting in their cubes” are actually “squatting behind some wooden things on wheels and taking FOREVER to notice that I’m trying to take their picture across the stage as I squat behind some other wooden things on wheels.”

Let the record show that I was guns-at-the-ready for their retaliatory photography:

The more you know (sparkly shooting star!)

The citizens of New York, ready to welcome Buddy the Elf to the mean urban streets

But with rhythmic dance and soaring melody.

#ElfTheMusical!

I'm so thankful our family comes from hearty stock

I still have vivid memories of the night Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, the moment 30 years ago today that she came out of her anesthesia after her mastectomy, sitting with her at chemo, and repeatedly watching her take off her wig and remove her prosthetic after chemo so she could collapse into the sleep she needed to keep up the fight. But more importantly, I remember how she wouldn't let breast cancer control her life. I have even fonder memories of her traveling to DC--one of her favorite cities--with us, unflinchingly bearing the slight orange tint of a chemo patient. Of her volunteering for Reach to Recovery, a program that paired breast cancer survivors with new breast cancer patients to answer questions and act as survivor role models and give hope where often there didn't seem to be any. Of the pink-clothed and pink-fooded and the pink-everythinged celebration we had with family and friends to celebrate her 20-year survival milestone. And most importantly, I remember how we all chose to laugh instead of cry at the situation. It turns out that prosthetic breasts can be very funny, especially when they're used as a giant nose on a drawing of a face, when they make uncontrollable farting sounds against sweaty skin on a hot day, and especially when they're put away for the night on a stack of hotel towels, only to fly across the room and SPLAT! against the wall when the top towel is unknowingly pulled off the pile in semi-darkness. We're lucky as a family to have all of this--and to still have Mom with us as a living example for everyone that breast cancer CAN be beaten.

Elf the Musical opening night!

This is the nicest my dressing-room station will look for the next five weeks:

Seriously

How awesome and inventive are the projections on our also-how-awesome-and-inventive Elf the Musical set? You’ll just have to come and behold for yourselves.

You’ll also have to come and behold the boundless energy, effortless talents and fearless ridiculousness of my photobomber: D.J., who brings Buddy the Elf to life with his gorgeous voice and childlike delight. The kids in our preview audience oohed and aahed and giggled and clapped all through the show last night, and I lost track of the times people told me afterward that they left the theater filled with holiday spirit. We’re all really proud of this show, and thrilled to get to share it with everyone who comes to see it. LIKE YOU.

Get your tickets.

Elf the Musical is IN DA HOUSE

Green Elf shirts! All over the dressing room!

What’s the #1 reason to get a flu shot?

Right: for the flexy band-aid selfie in the car afterward.

Also: to give yourself photographic evidence that you’re overdue to shave the old-man hair off your shoulders. Because gross.

Here’s my formal Doug the Christmas Cop holiday portrait that I’m going to use in this year’s Christmas cards

Speaking of Christmas, you should really come see me and our entire cast of bejinglebelled elves and the people who love them in Elf the Musical at Theatre Cedar Rapids. We open this weekend!

If a super-jazzy, super-jingly, super-challenging musical score about elves doesn't make your holidays brighter ...

if hearing a chorus of otherwise super-manly basses squeak out repeated high A's doesn't dog-whistle you ... if watching my freakishly talented friend D.J. totally ROCK IT as the charming, guileless, fearlessly ridiculous Buddy the Elf doesn't elicit even a wan smile from your stony comportment ... if your cold, dead heart prevents you from understanding my subtly nuanced performance of Doug the Christmas Cop breaking up a sweaty Santa fight ... you AT LEAST owe it to yourself to come see Elf the Musical just to hear the 90-year-old Barton organ fill Theatre Cedar Rapids with glorious Christmas carols before each Friday and Saturday performance.

The organ is a hidden gem in the heart of the city, and it is truly a treat to get to hear it on the occasions that it gets played. And just look at the organ console: IT'S BLACK VELVET! WITH RHINESTONES!

THERE. IS. NOTHING. GAYER.

Don't make me call you out as a cotton-headed ninny-muggins. Get your tickets at https://www.theatrecr.org/event/elf-the-musical/2018-11-16/

By the way ...

Remember when Ann had an epic meltdown because she got stuck sitting in coach?

It’s clear what’s still up HER orifice ...