On the Sixteenth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Sixteenth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I'm a two drink and a hangover kinda gal.

To try and sidestep a hangover I toddle up Fifth Avenue until I'm more sober.

When I throw away a picture I feel like I'm killing the person.

I have always and will always fit better into costumes built for other people than those built for my own body.

I have so many moles on my back it looks like the solar system. (Gee, look. O'Ryan's belt.)

I worked for the Skin Cancer Foundation when I moved to NY.

I no longer tan.

I have very few wrinkles.

Yet that is not a scar on my nose. That is a worry line.

I have had a worry line across the top of my nose since I was 5.

I worried a lot as a kid.

I got picked up by heavy winds during a rainstorm as a kid and blown into some bushes.

I don't like the rain.

I think people who walk around NY with golf umbrellas should be spanked.

I think if you are so big that you need a golf umbrella to stay dry, perhaps you should rethink your eating and exercise habits.

My doctors have forbidden me from gaining weight.

On the Fifteenth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Fifteenth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I didn't say the C word for 42 years. Couldn't bear to hear it. I'm okay with it now...although I use it sparingly.

I hesitate to use it in my blog. Does it count with a K?

I'm not a holiday person. Especially New Years. I'm happy 36whatever days a year...don't force it on me.

Crowds freak me the fuck out.

I don't make yearly resolutions. I kinda do it by the minute.

Art from friends is my fav.

I've spent maybe 2 hours in my living room in the past 2 months. Might as well rent it.

I am the human equivalent of playdough.

I'm allergic to a lot of scented candles.

I love candles.

I talked to my mom through a candle for a while. You should have seen it when I talked about the slutty slutty Halloween costumes I was seeing. Flickered like crazy. She always hated slutty slutty Halloween costumes.

I wonder why women feel the need to wear slutty slutty Halloween costumes.

Maybe we should rename it Slutoween.

I like being treated to dinner.

On the Fourteenth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Fourteenth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

They just bought me $600 Stuart Weitzman boots at work. I think we're running.

I like $600 Stuart Weitzman boots.

I cannot tell a lie.

That's a lie...but I hate lying.

I will only lie if I truly think the truth is none of your freaking business.

I barely watch tv.

I sleep with my computer.

Despite the constant weeping, I haven't been this happy in years.

I kinda sorta only clean my apartments for guests.

When guests cancel, I'm rarely unhappy because...I have a clean apartment to myself.

I never did well on standardized testing.

I got into Yale through the backdoor.

I want my money back from Manhattan School of Music.

I am at my best as an autodidact.

On the Thirteenth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Thirteenth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

This is my late daddy's birthday.

I'm a growed up orphan.

I have given away most of my books.

I only keep the books I haven't read or may read again.

I love to read but find it difficult recently.

I love a good nap and plan on taking one today.

I may want to be a producer. It's been noodling around in my noggin for a while. Or an astronaut. Or fireman.

I love my apartment and am careful whose energy I let on in. It's my safe place.

I like to hang on the fire escape at work. It makes me feel like I'm in a sitcom. And it's just plain outdoors...not a common feeling in the theater.

I like the outdoors.

I have a giant black bra hanging in my bedroom. It represents abundance.

I'm a pretty good stock investor.

My late daddy taught me how. Today is his birthday.

On the Twelfth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Twelfth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I hate crowds.

I am a sensory defensive. Completely implode.

I self-nurture with hot baths and peanut butter.

If I don't get enough time to myself...again...I completely implode.

Implosion on the way.

I love glamming it up. Rarely get to do it.

I love good champagne.

I have stinky feet.

I believe my Goddess Kali lunchbox makes a perfect evening purse.

I'm supposedly a kinder person now.

I like making a lot of money.

My bed is my friend.

On the Eleventh Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Eleventh Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

This is my first Broadway opening in a loooooooooong time.

I own many cocktail dresses.

I own more gowns.

I have a pair of grown up "Dorothy" shoes that make everything right with the world.

I didn't know my hair was curly curly.

Try though I might, I can't hold a grudge.

I still have a high F.

I have a performance low D.

I have encounters with ghosts.

Encounters with ghosts scare the crap out of me.

They are usually bangy ghosts.

On the Tenth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Tenth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

When they serve the glass of wine with its little sidecar (the wee carafe), I inevitably drink too much.

I enjoy silent taebo in the dark.

For years I had a trunk and all my traveling cases as useful storage art in my bedroom.

A trunk and traveling cases in one's bedroom send a counter-productive message to the universe for a single girl.

I like books about witchcraft (and in fact took a course on the history of it at Yale).

I inherited some absolutely gorgeous jewelry that has an exquisite history.

I have Paul Bunyon-sized bunions.

I like a French pedicure. Makes me feel like I have four hands.

Contrary to popular opinion, I do not memorize easily.

To memorize, I have to write the lines out over and over again...that way it becomes cellular.

Dear Mr. Podoretz*

I am writing this to you and I hope that you will read it so you'll know...

That I can't figure out what show you saw. But it's certainly not the one I'm in.

The show I'm in is about two men who have lost their way...one when faced with the love of his life. One when faced with the loss of the love of his life. Together they find their way. It doesn't have a political bone in its lovely music theater body.

To have posted your "story" when you did, you must have seen it while changes were still going in--I don't care if you paid full price for the ticket--that was ungentlemanly and unsportsmanlike.

Or did you write your "story" in an hour? That would at least explain all the errors.

Okey dokey. I just thought you should know.

P.S. We all pine for Harry, bro.

*Yes. I'm aware I misspelled your name. A little TiZ for TaT.

On the Ninth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Ninth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I love presents.

I love presence.

My apartment was renovated this Spring...for free.

My apartment renovation that was supposed to last five days, lasted four weeks. I was cranky.

There was a time in my life when all I had to do was admire something that belonged to someone else and they would just give it to me.

I used that gift judiciously.

I'm pretty judgmental.

I'm working on it.

I recently learned that when a person says, "I don't like to think of myself as _____, they probably, most certainly, are _______." You can't work on it until you know it, right?

On the Eight Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Eight Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I reiki babies. Talk about an amazing feeling.

When stressed I get terrible exzema...like halfway down my face. That's one of the reasons I wear bangs.

My forehead is so high, it's a fivehead. That's the other reason I wear bangs.

When stressed I can get some incredibly disgusting cold sores.

When stressed my blood pressure can drop low...really low. It could win a limbo contest.

I'm learning to remember to reiki myself when stressed.

I walk around this world pretty unprotected.

I take care of myself by taking care of others.

On the Seventh Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Seventh Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I fucked up by not having kids.

I worry about who will wipe my ass when I am old and infirm.

My dressing room is on the 7th floor. My ass looks great for almost 50.

Swinging is screwing with my creative source, so I make sure I create every day now.

I cleaned my apartment this last Spring and threw out/gave away ten hefties of shite.

My job makes me feel like skilled labor as opposed to an artist.

I'm feeding my belly not my soul...it's all good. A full belly is a good thing.

On the Sixth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Sixth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I passed out this summer.

My face hitting the bureau woke me up.

I was doing two shows at once...and online research.

I drink more now.

I have a best friend.

I own my first pair of show slippers. They are very important.

On the Fifth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Fifth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you

I sang at my mom's funeral.

I sang well.

I have ridiculously skinny feet that bring tears to the eyes of professional cobblers.

I think I'm going through menopause.

I forgot to pause this summer and worked myself to the point of exhaustion.

On the Fourth Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Fourth Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

I recently accidentally did audio porn. Listen.

I get paid to watch Eddie Izzard videos.

I did improv with Kristen Wiig.

I own a wig.

On the Third Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Third Day of Christ*&^%$ TiZ reveals to you...

People like to tell me their secret stuff.

Sometimes they regret it and resent me for it.

I often wish people wouldn't tell me their secret stuff.

12 Days of Christ*&^%$

Where it all started and why...

(just in case you were wondering)

On the Second Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Second Day of Christ*&^%$ TiZ reveals to you...

This is my first Broadway show in 13 years.

I turned down a Broadway show 6 years ago. I never regretted it.

On the First Day of Christ*&^%$

On the First Day of Christ*&^%$ TiZ reveals to you...

If I thought last year was freakin' daunting, I can't figure out how I got through THIS year. (Maybe you'll tell me.)

a few more kindnesses

Homemade jams...lots of it.

Homemade lemon cookies and banana bread muffins...all gluten free...lots of 'em.

A 7th floor dressing room to help work off the grief diet.

Le Petit Prince.

Surprise gifts and visits from wonderful colleagues of yesteryear.

A great paycheck that is making the retail therapy possible.

And this is a longer one. One of my mother's final wishes was that she be cremated in scrubs. (As I said, the nurses treated their waning compatriot with great love and respect.) My nephew bought the scrubs. Before they were put on the Nana, my sister-in-law washed them...so they would be soft.

PS

Not to worry. My posts will get perky jerky again soon. Just not yet.

But stick with me until then. It's sure to get bitter before it gets better.