Author: Lara

This week has been nuts. NUTS. I spent all last week battling a dreadful cold, but I was up against some tight deadlines for projects at the theatre, so I didn’t take any time off to rest or recover until Friday afternoon when the Discovery Guide for The Odd Couple had been safely delivered to the printer. Then Saturday morning I caught a wicked stomach bug that kept me camped out in front of the bathroom door in a makeshift bed unable to keep down 7-up, jello, or saltines. I kept my germy, exhausted self home from work on Monday, and just when I thought I’d recovered, I had a relapse Monday night. And the tail end of this cold is still hanging on. In between all of this there have been multiple annual doctor appointments and biannual dental appointments for both me and Ted, we’ve been on the hunt for new prescription glasses, sunglasses, and safety glasses for Ted, and I’ve been trying to keep up with the couponing and grocery shopping. I. Am. Exhausted. But Ted has been a saint…taking loving care of me, running to the store for saltines and 7-up, making jello, cleaning the house, helping with all the coupon shopping, and a million other things.

But before all this went down, I did have time two weekends ago – while soaking in a toasty bubble bath with a glass of wine – to ponder what on Earth a freakish life-sized rabbit that supposedly hides baskets packed with chocolate and jelly beans and fake, shimmery grass for children to find on Sunday morning could possibly have to do with the Christian celebration of Easter. Ultimately, I decided that this whole Easter tradition stuff is so commercialized and far-removed from what Easter is actually about for me as an adult, that I didn’t really care where it came from. None of it is necessary or expected for me to enjoy Easter.

{via – How did this become the picture of Easter?}

BUT that’s not to say that I don’t appreciate a delicious breakfast of prettily-dyed hard-boiled eggs and cold Polish sausage, or a good Easter basket, nonetheless. My vision of what constitutes a good Easter basket, however, has evolved since I was eight years old. Not that an Easter basket of chocolate eggs and jelly beans and sugary Peeps is without its tasty merits (just ask Ted, who still gleefully awaits the arrival of a candy-laden Easter basket each spring), but as a woman in my mid (late?) 20s, my ideal springtime basket o’ goodies delivered by a mythological tall, talking bunny in the middle of the night (which is now highly creepy, but hey if he’s going to bring me awesome stuff, then come on in!) would look something like this:

The 20-Something Easter Basket

•  Chocolate strawberry wine (preferably this stuff because it is the nectar of the gods)

• Cheese (milky merlot-crusted goat cheese, powerful white cheddar, mild gruyere, caramely gjetosta…I’m open minded)
• Bubble bath (I’m out)
• Windshield washer fluid (is it just me or does this stuff disappear at an alarming rate?)
• Hair ties (I can think of no female with would not be delighted to discover a pack of hair ties to replace all of her other hair ties that seem to miraculously vanish every night. Maybe the Easter Bunny has something to do with this? It sounds plausible)
• A bracelet key keeper (the handiest, most practical and useful thing ever)

{via}

• A dozen Boston cream pie cupcakes (duh)

{via}

• A multi-purpose pocket tool (something that’s part pen, part flashlight, part scissors, part screwdriver, part pliers, part wrench, part corkscrew, part tweezers, part knife, part needle, part laser, part whistle….you get the picture)

{via}

• A trinket (sweet stud earrings, a colorful bottle of Essie nail polish, an adorable kitchen gadget like a tea-bag squeezer or pie bird…something cheap but cute and useful)
• This bunny

I am in love with this bunny. I want to be his/her forever home so badly. I can’t help it…I don’t choose my animals – they always choose me. It sounds completely hokey, I get it, but I can always tell when an animal needs me. Now, I’m going to get all serious on you here for a sec because I want to be clear about something: I’m not advocating that children should receive a live Easter bunny in their Easter basket. A pet is not a toy or a gift, but a commitment. I hate that approximately 1/3 or more of all bunnies received in Easter baskets each spring end up at shelters or on the streets after the novelty of their newness and cuteness has worn off. I think adopting a bunny for a kid for Easter is irresponsible and harmful unless everyone in that household has done an enormous amount of research and is prepared to care for and love that bunny as a family member, even when it’s not Easter, and the bunny is no longer tiny and adorable, and is chewing on your baseboards and eyeing your electrical cords and needs $250 to be neutered and must have its cage cleaned every few days. But since I am not a child, and I know how to commit, and I am responsible, and I know how to love and care for a pet, and I have done my research….I would be over the moon if I found this particular little one nestled between a bottle of chocolate strawberry wine and a jug of bubble bath.

I guess what this means, in all reality, is that I should never ever be allowed into a space with animal adoptions because when I lock eyes with a certain animal whose eyes say that they need me, it’s totally devastating when I cannot give them a forever home because it’s just not in the cards for us financially. Even more of a kicker is that Ted – who is either allergic to or wouldn’t want to own (for whatever reason) pretty much every pet out there (aside from our awesome crays, obviously) – grew up with pet rabbits, likes them, and actually loves this particular little bunny as much as I do, but the only reason we have to say no and hope that a wonderful forever home with another family awaits him/her is because we just wouldn’t be able to afford bunny’s vet bills and other “maintenance” necessities. Le sigh…on second thought, maybe this Easter bunny could fill My Ideal 20-Something Easter Basket with cash instead, since he’s so insistent on monopolizing every grocery store from February-April each year anyway. Might as well be useful, right?

So, I’m curious! What would be in your ideal adult Easter basket? I can’t be the only one who’s thought this through!

Hey! Look at me, actually blogging. Weird, right? There has been so much going on these past few weeks that blogging, unfortunately, just hasn’t been on my radar. I am blissfully looking forward to my first full weekend off in a month! So much has happened – Audio description training, Summer Academy auditions, Odd Couple prep, a ton of projects at work, and so many shows. In the past two weeks I’ve seen productions of Meet Me in St. Louis, Legally Blonde, Anything Goes (twice), Spamalot (seeing tomorrow night), Informed Consent (seeing with friends on Friday night), and Once the Musical touring at The Auditorium Theatre (many thanks to my awesome friend Kelly who invited me with the tickets she scored from a sweet lady who is an understudy on the tour and used to work at Geva). Ted did the sound design for Anything Goes (and did a truly fantastic job), so that’s been taking up a lot of his time, as well as researching and learning and experimenting with all the settings on his new theatre/business DSLR camera that he uses to take show photos.

We got smacked with another 8 or so inches of heavy, wet, blizzardy snow late last Saturday night that blessed us with a 1.5 hour commute home after Anything Goes (normally a 10 minute drive). And just yesterday it was nearly 60 glorious, sunny degrees out after work, so Ted and I took a long walk around our neighborhood to finally get some exercise and enjoy the beautiful weather. It was so perfect! On Monday we re-signed another 1-year lease on our townhouse, which we still love, and for re-signing early we got a nice bonus – a $25 gift card to Wegmans, which we are planning to use to treat ourselves to a rarity that we haven’t been able to afford in quite a long time – wine and beer! We’re probably more excited about this than have any right to be. Oh, how I’ve missed a good glass of petite sirah or sweet moscato! Over the weekend I had summer cravings (it’s been a long, cold 5 months) so I made a delicious strawberry rhubarb smoothie with some of the amazing rhubarb that I buy like a pack rat at the farmers market during the summer and then freeze for use throughout the year (you should see our freezer, there’s an embarrassing – or incredible, depending on how you look at it – amount of rhubarb in there!). The smoothie was so good and so summery – and then we were instantly bombarded by tons of snow. But after yesterday, I have hope that warmer weather may finally be on the horizon for good! I am eagerly awaiting long walks among the blooming lilac trees in Highland Park, runs around the Cobb’s Hill Reservoir, chirping birds and baby animals, picnics at the park, Saturday morning farmers market and breakfast outings, Red Wings games with the Geva season tickets, walks along the beach and Erie canal, lawn games, grilling out, and not wearing snow boots or 7,894 layers of clothing. Also, a brand new Frozen Yogurt bar just opened less than 2 miles from our house (with a grand opening ‘buy one get one free’ deal last Sunday, which was amazing!)….so I’m simultaneously thrilled to no end about this because I love good frozen yogurt, and concerned because now I’m going to crave it all the time. Ah, the double-edged sword of FroYo love.

We’re also thinking of designing, building, and staining ourselves some beautiful end tables for our living room this month as a DIY project we can do together…and because we need end tables. And hey, we’re crafty (well, Ted’s crafty – I’m helpful) and I see no logical reason to spend hundreds of dollars on end tables when we are perfectly capable of making ourselves some fantastic furniture for a fraction of the price. And I think it will be fun – I love doing projects with Ted. He’s so crazy talented and I always learn so much from him and feel so much pride in making something great together rather than just buying it.

At work we had our March potluck – obviously St. Patrick’s Day themed – so all contributions either needed to be Irish, green, or contain beer as an ingredient. I made a butter braised cabbage that was actually really delicious and enjoyed plenty of other tasty food and great company from my wonderful coworkers. Our April potluck theme will be ‘4 ingredients’ – every dish or beverage brought in must contain 4 ingredients – no more, no less. I’m really looking forward to getting creative with this one!

 When we haven’t been working, it’s been really, really tempting to just veg. Which we’ve done…a lot. Between our free movie tickets to The Little Theatre every Monday-Thursday night, Amazon Prime Instant on our TV, and free Redbox rental codes that just keep coming our way every week for some reason (not that I’m complaining) we’ve seen some great flicks lately. I’d highly recommend In A World, Free Birds, The Internship, About Time, and Delivery Man if you’re on the prowl for some weekend movies. Tonight we’re going to see The Grand Budapest Hotel, which I’ve been wanting to see for months now! And if you’re looking for a great big family oriented Netflix or Amazon Instant TV series to sink yourself into, we’re into season 3 of Parenthood and I’m so involved in this show! It’s great! I also tried a new recipe for a spicy cheesy sausage pasta that I made a few weeks ago and LOVED. It’s  not the healthiest meal I’ve ever made, though I do usually add lots of extra veggies in, but it’s so good and I can’t wait to make it again. I’m also planning a cheesy grits with shrimp and sausage that I’ve been yearning to make for weeks now, a pan of roasted lemon garlic parmesan cauliflower (which is like manna from Heaven), my amazing shaved asparagus and boursin cheese pizza, and maybe a loaf of freshly baked bread (which I’ve, surprisingly, never attempted before). I’m so excited to get my hands on that farmers market again and start cooking when all this great produce is in season.

I think I’m fairly well caught up on everything now. I hope to have more exciting blogs (with more pictures! and less boring stuff!) to share with you in the future.

Today is the LAST DAY to vote for Ted in the Cintas & Carhartt Cold Crew Contest for him to win a trip for 2 to the CMA Festival in June in Nashville! He has a 1 in 10 chance of winning, which means….WE CAN WIN THIS THING! It takes less than 10 seconds and 3 clicks of a mouse to submit your vote. Vote here!!! All votes must be submitted by midnight EST tonight. 

Please, please share this link with your family and friends through email and on Facebook today. Ask them to take just 10 seconds to vote for Ted Rhyner by midnight EST tonight! We would be so incredibly appreciative!!! THANK YOU!

Apparently, yesterday was quite a fitting day for 70+ young people to start their auditions for our summer professional actor training conservatory program! It was “World Day of Theatre for Children and Young People” which I, ironically, did not know existed. My first role was the prince in The Prince and the Pauper in 8th grade. And I am SO grateful every single day of my life that someone introduced me to theatre at a young age and that so very many wonderful someones encouraged me along the way. I am proud and honored and humbled to work in the professional theatre industry and to pass the joy and the responsibility of art on to young people so that they may continue our mission in the same way that others passed it on to me.

Yesterday we saw 18 brave and talented young artists, on Saturday we’ll see 21 more, and on Sunday we’ll see another 34. ‘Judging’ auditions (I hate that word, by the way, because I guess that’s technically what I do, but I really don’t like to think that that’s how I do it) are simultaneously my most favorite and most dreaded time of year. I love meeting all our auditionees, getting to know them, and having them share their talents and aspirations with us (plus, it’s usually pretty fun), but I definitely feel the weight of the responsibility to make the right choices for each individual, for the group, and for program as a whole. I also clearly remember being in their shoes not too long ago – walking into an audition and feeling like my whole entire future was in someone else’s hands. And now, I’m that person whose hands someone thinks their future is in. It’s kind of a crazy feeling. I like to think I am one of the nicest and most friendly and encouraging auditioners a person could ever met. Yes, I make the choices, but no, I don’t determine their fate. The older I get, the more I realize that I had more control over all of my auditions and interviews than I gave myself credit for. The person auditioning me wasn’t out to ‘judge’ me – to find all my flaws, and they certainly didn’t hold the key to my future. They were, most likely, looking for all my good qualities and potential. And their ‘yes’ or ‘no’ wasn’t the start of my life or the end of the world. I held the key to my own future. But, of course, it’s hard to see those things as a nervous kid – to realize that auditions are just an opportunity to have some fun, and to share who you are and what you love.

Anyway, there were auditions day 1, and at lunch I ventured out of the theatre for an early afternoon stroll downtown (in the blowing snow/freezing rain. Thanks spring in Rochester) to pick up an awesome prize pack that I won in a recent giveaway from Hart’s Local Grocers…an old (late 1800s-mid 1900s) and now new again local grocery store that will be located next to The Little Theatre downtown that aims to sell food from local Rochester area farmers and other small businesses, which I love. In addition to being operated and staffed by the nicest, coolest folks, they’re also going to have the best selection of food! Farm-fresh locally-grown produce, Hedonist chocolates, Pittsford Dairy Farms milk and ice cream, Flour City breads and pastas, local meats and cheeses and condiments and baked goods…and Fee Brothers bitters. Which, coincidentally, was the giveaway I won – 4 delicious bottles of Fee Brothers bitters in black walnut, orange, Aztec chocolate, and whiskey that are going to help me craft some excellent old-fashioned cocktails (they also have a rhubarb bitters, among other tasty varieties, that I MUST own), and I also took home a soft, heathered Hart’s Local Grocer’s t-shirt. Pretty sweet gift basket if I do say so myself! I cannot wait to curl up in my cozy soft tee with a delicious cocktail after three long days of auditions this weekend and check out Hart’s when they open in May!

{Photo by Hart’s}

After auditions I drove out to the Greece Public Library to catch up with a few friends from book club to meet Eowyn Ivey, the author of our most recent read, The Snow Child. Eowyn has been living in Alaska (what a dream!) since she was a young child. She and her husband and daughters hunt and fish all their own meat and game, own chickens, keep their own land, and grow their own produce on their wilderness homestead. It’s really neat how she was able to use her own life as inspiration for some of the moments and scenes in her novel. Ted and I honeymooned in Alaska and we adored it there. Sitka and its surrounding islands are beyond gorgeous! We’ve dreamed of one day moving to Alaska and opening up our own professional theatre there, which may not be the most practical thought in the world, unless we plan to cater to bear, moose and eagles rather than human audiences, but a dream is a dream. Also, Eowyn an incredibly kind and genuine person. I really like her as a person and as an author! She’s so open and friendly, and her book was compelling and full of amazing detail and imagery and some great themes and metaphors. It was also just simply a lovely story, set in a lovely place, and with lovely characters I cared about. At the library she read aloud three passages from her novel and then opened up the floor to questions. I loved what she had to say and hearing her insights. She was so willing to share her thoughts and speak with everyone – thanking each person for their question. After her presentation she signed books and took pictures with book clubs. It was a really nice way to end the day.

{Clearly, we lowered the average age in the room by quite a bit. Photo by Writers & Books.}

{Chris, Richard, me, Eowyn Ivey, and Tate – a small handful of our book club meeting Eowyn. Photo by Writers & Books.}

Tonight I’m heading out to Williamson to see a former student’s performance in a production of Meet Me in St. Louis, and tomorrow evening a friend scored cheap tickets to the national touring production of Once and invited me along with her…so it’s a date!

What have you been up to lately?

{P.S. Don’t forget to vote for Ted to win a trip to Nashville’s 2014 CMA festival here! He’s a top 10 finalist, so he’s got a 1 in 10 shot. It takes less than 10 seconds to submit a vote. It’s the easiest (and kindest?) thing you’ll do all day! Even kinder if you email or Facebook your friends and family members this link and ask them to vote for Ted as well!}

Right around a week and a half ago, we closed our production of Clybourne Park at the Geva. This show is fantastic, I have to say, for so very many reasons. But best of all, it made me think. And I like shows that make me think – that re-sensitize me – that keep my mind and heart spinning weeks later – that have the potential to re-shape the way we live in this world, and hopefully, make it a better place in some small way. That’s the function of art. It unites us. It helps us to understand ourselves, and others, better. And, as one very wise man says, it comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. Clybourne Park held up a mirror to myself, to society, to time, to place, and to the world at large, and forced me to re-examine my own values and prejudices and progression. And, in my own ways, it’s stayed with me, and that’s what I’ve been doing for the past month or so – thinking and examining. Taking a closer look at ideas or actions or speech that would have, until only recently, passed me by. I spent a good deal of time with this play – writing the student Discovery Guide for it, watching multiple performance of it, getting to know the cast through interviews and talkbacks and car rides, attending and hosting events centered around it – from public discussions at libraries to in-class Discovery Workshops, and even moderating a handful of the post-show public talkbacks for our patrons, which we offered after every single performance so the community could discuss the very ideas this play is such a catalyst for. Ideas about gender, race, class, territoriality, discrimination, treatment of “others” and how, or if, any of this has changed in the last 50 years – and what our future might hold. I think the major takeaway here – at least for me – is that I’m trying to be more conscious and more aware of society and myself, and attempting to do something brave with that awareness. Here’s a few examples:

A few weeks ago I was at a lovely evening cast party where someone was discussing a particular area of town. They described the area and followed up by off-handedly remarking something along the lines of, ” you know, it’s that bad area of town where you drive through and don’t look at anyone and just keep straight ahead to get through it as quickly as possible.” Everyone knew what she meant. We all, myself included, smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yes, I know that area of town. I do that too!” It took a few minutes for my brain to catch up, but when it did, I realized that by smiling and nodding, I was possibly, unintentionally, perpetuating a stereotype. What I could have done – had I been more aware in the moment – was gently probe further. Kindly take advantage of this opportunity – an opportunity that comes up fairly often among white, middle-class people (in my experience) – to start a constructive discussion. I could have asked, not to be condescending or argumentative, but out of genuine curiosity, “Why do we think that’s a bad part of town?” “What about this area makes it bad?” “Is it because it’s a mostly black neighborhood?” “Is it because it’s a lower-income area?” “Is it because it looks ever so slightly more run-down than other areas?” “Is it a combination of all of those things?” “Is it because we hear about crimes being committed in this particular area more often than others?” If we, as a group, could get down to the core of why we label this area as a “bad part of town” instead of just simply labeling it as such and moving on, we might discover that the reasons we think of it as “bad” could have some merit to them, or they could – entirely unintentionally – be rooted in some form of prejudice, stereotype, racism, or classism.

I never considered this area to be a particularly “bad” part of town – it’s fairly close to where we live, so – in all honesty – I’m not sure why I smiled and nodded. I feel okay driving though this area. I do it daily. Same as any other area. But now, weeks later, I find myself wishing I’d spoken up – not as a martyr to the cause, but to help us – myself included – as a community, become more conscious of our thoughts. I really am curious about why this particular area of town has received such a label. The only two factors I’ve noticed is that the area houses a higher percentage of African-American families, and it appears to be a little lower-income than other parts of the city. But that alone shouldn’t make it a “bad” area, right? We know that being African-American (or any other ethnicity) doesn’t make a person “good” or “bad” and we know that income (low, high, or anywhere in between) doesn’t make a person “good” or “bad” either. I don’t hear about this area of town any more or any less often on the news (in terms of crime) than I do any other area of town, so all I can conclude is that – deep down – even to loving, accepting, open-minded people who consider everyone to be equal and want to treat everyone as such, the reason this area is labeled as “bad” is because of historical stereotypes tied to race and class. And, had I been further along in my “awareness” journey inspired by Bruce Norris and Clybourne Park, I might have been brave enough to open the door to a compelling and constructive conversation. Had I asked those questions and raised the friendly flag of awareness, perhaps I would have learned that regardless of who lives in this area, there’s a lot of crime I don’t know about. Or we might have discussed and discovered, together, that our fears of this area are unfounded and perpetuating a stereotype that we didn’t intend, but that we have the power to help change, on an individual level, by not referring to it as a “bad” part of town simply because the people who live there may or may not be different from ourselves.

Another example: I park in a parking lot that is, approximately, a five-minute walk from work –  across a pedestrian overpass bridge. No matter who passes me on the bridge in the morning – I smile and say “hello” or “good morning.” After a year and a half, I’ve found that – more often than not (certainly not always, but mostly) – African-American males that I greet do not make eye contact with me. It took nearly a year for me to start noticing this, but I  didn’t really stop to think about it until we were deep in the middle of Clybourne Park and, at a talkback, someone from the African-American community mentioned the old standard of the decades past (around the time of Emmett Till, etc.) that African-American males were taught not to look white women in the eyes, lest they think he’s up to something no-good. I never considered that maybe this is what is still going on. If so, I struggle to grasp that decades later, this could still be a norm. I certainly don’t expect anyone I pass to look at me or return my greeting. I do it to be friendly. I say it to everyone. If I get a response back – great! If not, that’s okay too. But until it was mentioned in the talkback, it never dawned on me that, perhaps, this could be the situation. And, if it is, isn’t it time we try to move forward from that? Nobody should feel, for any reason, they can’t or shouldn’t look someone in the eye. If they choose not to or don’t want to, that’s one thing, but feeling unable to or discouraged from, even by historical precedent, is quite another thing entirely. Again, I have no idea if this is the case or not, but now it’s something I’m aware of on a level I might have simply glossed over two months ago.

I’ve also been highly aware of our school systems, even more so than usual, lately. It always astonishes me how vastly different education is some areas and/or for some kids than it is for others. I’m frequently in the classrooms, so I see it all the time. Generally speaking, schools with a more diverse ethnic population or spectrum of socio-economic statuses within the students’ families are schooled in buildings that look and feel like prisons. Their reading, writing, vocabulary, and discussion skills (which is what I witness the most) are (again, generally speaking) far inferior to that of their peers who attend schools where the general population appears to be predominately white, or more middle class. Why is this? I certainly don’t think it’s because the teachers or the instruction is sub-par, but I also certainly don’t believe those kids are inherently wired to succeed or not any differently than other kids. But, somehow, I notice that their education is a reflection of issues of race and/or class. But why? And how can we become more aware of what lies at the root of this problem? And how can we, on an individual level, help be its solution? The classroom I most recently went into was a mixed room – there were kids of every race in there. Race wasn’t the factor, but they were all (mostly) middle-class kids who attended a private school – so that, perhaps, was a factor. And by observing them in the classroom for even 45 minutes, I noticed an enormous difference from the school I had last attended where the students were also of many different ethnic backgrounds, but were in a lower-class area. Why does their class, or race, or anything else even have to matter when it comes to their education?

I don’t have answers to my own questions. I certainly don’t have it all – or any of it for that matter – figured out. I’m far from perfect when it comes to these issues. And I think that’s okay right now. Because what I’m striving to do is just start with being more aware of what goes on, in so many ways, within myself and within our society by holding up a mirror. And I think, if I – if we – can stay vigilant about our awareness, and actually speak up – even if just to pose a hypothetical question or casually instigate a constructive conversation at a party or get to the root and the why of a discriminatory joke we may hear – when we notice something, we can – in our own small, individual ways – help abolish some of these issues so we can move forward as a society. And, I think, this starts with re-examining ourselves, and our own values and thoughts and actions. And so these past six weeks or so, that’s what I’ve been doing and that’s what’s been turning around and around in my head.

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On an entirely unrelated note, if you haven’t already, please take just 10 seconds to vote for Ted to win a trip to the 2014 CMA Festival in Nashville! He’s a top 10 finalist in this contest out of thousands of entries….and every single vote helps! Please vote and then help us spread the word by sharing the voting link with your family and friends. No registration of any kind required – just three simple clicks of a mouse! ((One vote per person/IP address))

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