Archives for September 2018

Can we please see Wolverine the Musical?

I’ve been on a musicals kick. It has nothing everything to do with seeing Hamilton for the second time. I’ve graduated from listening to the Ham soundtrack on YouTube to listening to Hamilton radio on Pandora. You see, I was hoping for a nice roundup of Ham, Rent, Le Mis, Wicked, and all the other musicals that provide me with lyrical poetry to sing in the car on my hour-long drives into the city every week.

Empty Hamilton stage

Pandora, for the first time since my Britney radio channel (which has been properly curated to play all 90’s and all my favorite party pop tunes), got it right.

So I’ve been jamming out. And it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that I wanted to spend my weekend watching musicals when no one in our house got any sleep because Brian had a software release (he was up until like 4 am working on Friday night), the puppy’s schedule was outta whack, and Chrissy needed to wake up at 2 am and 6 am on Saturday in order to successfully acquire (apparently not one, but two) stuffed Mickey Mouses that she absolutely needed. </second person>

I came home on Saturday from my mall adventure to pick up the Mickey and couldn’t fall asleep. So I popped in The Greatest Showman. And then Moulin Rouge. The next day, I continued the magic with Les Mis. Brian caught bits and pieces and said, “The music is kind of dull. It all sounds the same. There’s very little variation.”

I mean…I guess he’s not wrong, but I felt the need to defend one of the most epic musical tragedies, which I did to little avail.

A few days later, I was playing The Other Side from The Greatest Showman because it’s in my head, and when a song is in my head, I just have to play it. Constantly.

Brian looked at me, “See, this song alone already has more melodies and variation than the other show.”

“It’s the same actor.”

“I know. It’s Wolverine.”

“OMG. Brian. BRIAN! We need Wolverine the Musical. We just need it. How do we get in touch with Hugh Jackman?!”

So then, ignoring my brilliant idea (one that rivals my Captain America vs. Harry Potter mashup, he pulls up Deadpool the Musical, and despite Brian swearing he’s shown this to me, I’ve never seen this magic before, and I’m SO here for it. And Deadpool the Musical 2, which is even better. And it’s like my idea was already a thing and I didn’t even know it.

So, I thought I would share it with you. Because Disney owns all the good shit now. And you know how I feel about Disney. And parodies.

Enjoy. (PS: NSFW)

The Wolverine cameo is in here, and it’s perfect.

But I still think Wolverine could have his very own musical. Don’t you agree?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Dog training is dangerous work

So my dog is becoming incredibly skilled at indoor parkour. If you don’t know what that is, Google it. I’ll wait.

Insane, right?

Well, Nia is a master. When she gets the zoomies, she jets around our house, side-swiping and jumping on everything with a flat surface.

¬†She can also clear 4-5 feet with a standing jump. Hopping on our couch, over the back? Child’s play. Jumping a gate to get to the top of our stairs? Piece of cake. Bouncing from one ottoman to the other like fucking Tigger? Done.

Clearly, all of these feats of strength means she’s an agility star in the making.

So the other night, after some serious playtime and even more serious zoomies, I decided that instead of trying to train the crazy out of her, I would help hone her skills.

dog with a toy in the middle of a living room

I’m a fool.

So I pulled out the small ottoman and started running to jump over it in the hopes that Nia would follow suit and chase me. She did, but she ran beside the ottoman instead of over it. Several times.

So I figured I’d try again.

I figured wrong.

As my right leg cleared the ottoman, my left foot caught on the back, making my landing less than a 10. I didn’t fall (for, like, the first time ever), but I did manage to feel a pop-pop-pop of bad. And also a searing pain in my left Flinstoe (Flinstone toe. It’s a thing) that turned out to be a broken nail.

I knew immediately something had gone awry and I stumbled to the couch, much to Brian’s confusion. He has never seen me actually injure myself, despite seven-plus years of experience with my injuries. I took a few ibuprofen, iced my knee, and made a bunch of Instagram stories about my foolishness, hoping there would be no pain when I finally peeled myself off the couch.

Much to my dismay (and with little surprise, if we’re being honest), I discovered that yes, Virginia, Chrissy hurt herself again. After 30+ years of injuring myself, I knew how to recognize the signs of a sprain:

  • Can move the joint in question
  • Difficulty with range of motion (which is strange for me because I have overextending¬†joints, so my range of motion is a little crazy already)
  • Slight swelling (I don’t often swell)
  • Slight bruising (sprains don’t bruise much for me, even though I get rando bruises all the time)
  • Pain in certain positions (or many positions or when putting pressure on said joint)

And so I went to sleep with plans to visit the doctor the next day. I’m pretty confident they love me over there. This was the first time my doc saw my hair, and she was all open-mouth WOAH, but not actually surprised, since she’s been seeing me for years (basically since I got a job with health insurance). After I told her about trying to train my dog to jump over an ottoman by showing instead of telling (I mean, COME ON. How do you tell a dog to jump over an ottoman?), she laughed and told me, “At least you have a good story.”

“Doc, that’s pretty much my life. You should hear about the last time I sprained my knee…”

She laughed, and I made a few more jokes before she told me to chill out, rest my shit, and try not to reinjure myself like a fool (which is of course going to be tricky with several hours of improv classes and a show tonight (SHAMELESS PLUG: GO SEE MY ENSEMBLE, HAMMOCK FIRE, at the Chicago Second City Training Center Thursday nights through September 20!)

And so, I’m back on the injury train. Which is kind of funny, since I had finally stopped telling people that injuring myself is a key theme in my storytelling style.

Such is life.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!