| Gratitude and Attitude |
[17 Nov 2008|01:24am] |
Yay! Success at last! I'm on a coupon!!!!
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=569866768&ref=profile
and
I updated my art folders and added a Logos Portfolio:
http://mamaspell.com/resume.htm
and
I have an art show scheduled at The Fall Cafe in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn January 16-February 25, 2009.
http://www.myspace.com/fallcafe
and
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 19
Shrink @ Otto's Shrunken Head
538 East 14th Street, New York City, 10009 (Between Avenues A & B. Take the L to 1st Avenue)
Stand-Up Comedy Variety Show. "When you Shrink, you come closer together."
The Gratitude Show
Hosted by Sharon "Mama" Spell and Shane Webb.
Featuring: Claudia Cogan, Mike Dobbins, Matty Goldberg, Dustin Chafin, Bender
Free. 8-9:30 pm. 212-228-2240
21+, Cash Only. 2 for 1 Bud / Bud Light and well drinks, $1 off everything else (which means $2 PBR) until 8 pm. We provide Shrinx Mix*, but feel free to bring your own snacks.
A portion of the bar sales made during Shrink will be donated to Joe Powers' medical expense fund.
*Shrinx mix contains peanuts.
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| Birthday Roast @ Otto's Shrunken Head |
[06 Oct 2008|03:43pm] |
Burn baby burn, burn that Mama down!
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 8
Shrink @ Otto's Shrunken Head
538 East 14th Street, New York City, 10009 (Between Avenues A & B. Take
the L to 1st Avenue)
Stand-Up Comedy Variety Show. "When you Shrink, you come closer together."
Hosted by Shane Webb.
Birthday Roast for Mama Spell!
Featuring:
DJ Hazard
Emmy Rivera
Vicki Ferentinos
Colin Dempsey
Angry Bob
Pat O'Shea
The show is free. 7-9 pm. 212-228-2240
21+, Cash Only.
2 for 1 Bud / Bud Light and well drinks, $1 off everything else (which
means $2 PBR) until 8 pm.
http://myspace.com/shrinkatottos
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| RIP Estelle Getty: Thank You For Being Alive |
[22 Jul 2008|02:15pm] |
http://www.tmz.com/2008/07/22/estelle-getty-thank-you-for-being-alive/
"Golden Girl" Estelle Getty has gone to the big lanai in the sky and died at the age of 84, just three days shy of her 85th birthday.
Estelle passed away at 5:35 AM this morning at her L.A. home surrounded by her family and caregivers. Getty had been suffering for years with Lewy Body Dementia.
Although one year younger than Bea Arthur, Estelle is best known for playing her wise-cracking Sicilian mother Sophia Petrillo on "The Golden Girls." Co-star Betty White is also one year older than Estelle.
Getty is survived by her two adult sons.
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| I'm Just A Regular Model Who Likes to Shrink |
[19 Jul 2008|05:06pm] |
1. I'm on pages 79 and 80 of the August issue of Fitness Magazine that's on out right now!
2. Shane Webb and I are excited to bring you our fourth Shrink show this
WEDNESDAY, JULY 23
Shrink @ Otto’s Shrunken Head
538 East 14th Street, New York City, 10009
Stand-Up Comedy Variety Show. "When you Shrink, you come closer together."
Hosted by Sharon "Mama" Spell and Shane Webb.
Featuring: Sue Funke, Chelsea White, Moody McCarthy, Joselyn Hughes, Mark Norman, Fat Penguin.
Free. 7-9 pm
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| Teased Hair and Shrunken Heads |
[01 Jul 2008|01:47am] |
"When someone's not funny, I hide behind your hair." -- Shane Webb to Mama Spell @ an open mic night, June 30, 2008.
I didn't participate in any gay pride celebrations this year. Please don't tell the gays, they will be so disappointed in me. But really, I should be exempt because every time I leave the house with my hair did it's a gay pride celebration. That is every dadgum day, y'all.
Shane and I have a new weekly variety show in New York. It starts this week.
WEDNESDAY, JULY 2
@ Shrink @ Otto's Shrunken Head
538 East 14th Street, New York City, 10009
Stand-Up Comedy Variety Show. "Getting down to the core of comedy. For Free!"
Hosted by Sharon "Mama" Spell and Shane Webb.
Featuring: DJ Hazard, Pat O'Shea, Rob Gorden, Vicki Ferentinos, Carla Rhodes, Erin Judge.
Free. 7-9 pm
http://myspace.com/shrinkatottos
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| The First Anniversary is Paper |
[01 Jun 2008|01:51pm] |
Today is the one year anniversary of the day I moved to NYC.
Somebody buy me a copy of the New York Times.
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| Follow the laughs |
[11 Apr 2008|10:38am] |
One of Sawyer's favorite pastimes is playing with the vacuum cleaner. It's about 3 times his size, but he can lift & pull it out of its home in the corner by the washing machine. I know that's what he's going for when he's on his way to that part of the apartment, because on the way he starts saying, "VROOOOM" and I echo that as I follow him in a call and response. This past week I got really good belly laughs from my baby boss by making that sound while making the vacuum pop wheelies. Yeah, I'm a bit like The Toy.
And after a while I got tired of making the noise, so I actually turned the vacuum on. That also got laughs, and I started chasing him with the vacuum cleaner for further high hilarity.
I'm convinced now that young master Sawyer's real name is Tom Sawyer. This week he not only got me to vacuum the entire apartment, but also white-wash their picket fence.
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| Don't cry for me, Argentina Yothers |
[04 Apr 2008|03:01pm] |
I don’t like people interrogating me:
"How are you doing?"
"What’s going on?"
"Everything ok?"
"What’s up?"
"How’s it hanging?"
"When’s dinner?"
Really, people. I don’t have all the answers. I am only a simple woman. If Perón can love me, he can love all of me. Tell Ché to represent the voice of the people in the form of a statement from now on. No more callers, we have a winner. Thank you.
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| Say my name! |
[02 Apr 2008|01:23pm] |
Say my name!
I’ve been hanging out with my baby friend (read: nannying) since last June when the baby was 6 months old. It’s 10 months later and he’s starting to talk...
His parents and I are friends and have been figuring out what to have him call me. Here’s our thought process:
Mama Spell -- too confusing for the baby to learn both his mother’s name and mine. They’re so similar, you know.
Mama’s Helper -- more descriptive, still confusing.
Mama Spellper -- ...
Miss Mama -- better, but no cigar. Not until he’s eleven.
Aunt Mama -- no, not with our southern accents.
Mammy -- no, no.
Miss Sharon -- yeah, ok. That works.
The baby and I played peep-eye last week, as we do, and he initiated. He was in his high chair and I’d turned around to get his lunch, then turned back to see he was had covered his eyes with his hands. He was smiling widely, like, "Oh, this is gonna be GOOD." Truth be told, I love this game and I was so on board. "Where is Sawyer? WHERE is SAWYER?" He finally uncovered his eyes, and that was some good hilarity right there. Then it was my turn to cover my eyes. I asked him, "Where is Miss Sharon? WHERE is MISS SHARON?" I uncovered my eyes, and he was pointing at me and had this confused look on his face like, "Is that your name? After all this time I don’t think I ever knew that."
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| Snake Oil Show on Saturday Night |
[28 Mar 2008|01:33pm] |
SATURDAY, MARCH 29
The Snake Oil Show
Laurie Beechman Theatre within West Bank Cafe
407 W 42nd St, New York, 10036
Reservations encouraged: 212-695-6909
9:30-11 pm. $10 cover, $15 food and drink minimum
Featuring: The Gender Offenders, Brent Sullivan, Robert German, Me, Paul Wyatt, Maddy Wyatt, & Chic with Raffle Prizes!!!
http://mamaspell.com
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| No One Judges |
[22 Feb 2008|02:04pm] |
The other night while catching the N train, there weren't many people aboard any of the cars so it was not my fault that I boarded the HoboTaint car. But what's truly curious was that I could tell something was off, but it wasn't sickening at first. There was just a wafting of it, and as I looked around the car for the source, I noticed a woman eating French Onion Sun Chips. Aha, I thought, That must be it, how odd. But then the smell increased, and I continued to scope around for the source and sure enough, there was RoboHoboTaint idling in the corner like an unwell Oust Fan. Now, here's the thing: once I realized that the smell really was HoboTaint, and that the smell traveled completely throughout the car, I wasn't as disgusted with RoboHobo as I was with the woman who could eat French Onion Sun Chips in that environment! I judged them both silently and harshly to myself ...and now to you.
I realized this week that I'm an ageist. See, I grew up in Mississippi after the Civil Rights Movement and I learned some hard lessons on how horrible racism is. But nobody ever told me not to be prejudiced against babies. And, I am prejudiced against all babies, but as a nanny I'm finding that I like this one individual, who happens to be 15 months old. That feels like awesome progress, but what's still troubling me is that I've started calling him my "Baby Friend." What is the matter with me? I mean, why can't he just be my "Friend?" Why do I need to qualify that noun? Who am I trying to impress? I can just hear myself at a cocktail party, "Some of my best friends are babies..." But why can't he just be my friend, who happens to be a baby? Or rather, why can't he just be my friend? Guess I still have a lot of work to do.
Even so, if a baby ever moves into my building, I am so moving.
This week's creepy subway cruiser award goes to the dude @ the Atlantic Street Station early Thursday morning. I had my earphones on, and he waved to get my attention as I walked down the stairs to the platform. He was smiling in a way that made me think he was going to tell me something, like, "Your dress is tucked inside your pantyhose!" No, his urgent matter that he needed my immediate attention for was, "Are you a tourist?" "No I'm not a fucking tourist." "Oh, you look like a tourist," still smiling. I put my earphones back on and he got the harshest silent judgment I've given in a LONG time.
No one judges.
My new passive-aggressive mandate for '08 is "No one judges." Of course after reading the previous paragraphs you know that's wrong. But if you keep saying it, it works. Want more fries? Go for it, no one judges. Want to kiss a stranger on the street? Do it. No one judges. Want to commit tax fraud? Cool. No one judges. You're welcome.
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| Judy, Judy, Judy! |
[15 Feb 2008|12:15pm] |
I just found out that for two weeks, one of my new coworkers @ the phone bank has been calling me, "Judy."
Now, I'm not sure who's more at fault for this -- her for thinking my name was Judy, or me for not noticing I've been answering to that name for two weeks.
Aside from that, I'd rather be called, "Judy," than say, "Shannon" or "Sherry." I mean, "Judy," is creative. "Shannon," well, that's just lazy.
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| Bootnanny is on my guestlist, ham is not |
[27 Jan 2008|10:59am] |
I'm taking "One Person Show - Material" at UCB, and our first class met yesterday. In one of the exercises I talked a bit about Bootnanny, Hattiesburg's everyday drag Queen. I told how her performances really spoiled me for drag shows early on, and how I'd seen her more recently and we had our picture made together. Found the photos which were made at some friends' rock show in Hattiesburg a few years back. She walked into the club that night, grabbed a mic and stated, "I am a male prostitute and am available tonight!" I don't really know how to get in touch with her, but ever since these photos were taken, whenever I do a show in Hattiesburg I tell the door guy that Bootnanny is on my guestlist. If she arrives at the club, wave her right in.
I also remembered later that I'd seen a clip of her on Youtube. Spent a good bit of this morning trying to find that clip, but it appears to have been taken down. Found a remnant of it here, along with other Bootnanny discussions.
She's definitely in my thoughts today. There's an unverified story I heard a while back where she went to a church in downtown Hattiesburg a few years ago for Easter Sunday services, dressed in Easter Sunday drag. She was escorted out of the church by some of the deacons, and in her exit she shouted, "God doesn't care if I wear a dress! God loves me just as I am!" And I thought that story was beautiful in its truth.
I'm not even midway through my ham award yet. This entire week I've been trying to incorporate it into every meal I made at home. Yesterday I had a ham, cheese and apple sandwich. Today I'm having a spinach, ham, tomato, mozzarella salad with lime juice dressing. I overdid it on the ham / other fixin's ratio, and I'm digging through the salad to pull out the excess ham. All this effort, and I'm not even half way through my award yet! Good thing I saved most of its gelatin/afterbirth to put with it into the tupperware container. It should keep until I can palate it again.
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| I'm a winner! |
[21 Jan 2008|12:39am] |
I won a HAM last week!
Went to sing karaoke with a friend in Brooklyn, and I'm glad to say the organizers of the event awarded me my prize at the end of my song.
The previous week I signed a contract to be a model, last week I won a ham... With my streak of good luck, what's next, a free prostate exam?
And by the way, I'm now officially UGLY: http://uglyny.com
and go to the M section.
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| I better work! |
[10 Jan 2008|05:47pm] |
Yesterday I signed a contract with UGLY NY for them to represent me in print. Yeah, that's right, I'm a model now! And last night I celebrated this fact with my dear friends, Beer and Fried Chicken.
I've mentioned this to several people since yesterday (as you can probably imagine). When I told them I had just been signed as a model, five different people asked, "Oh? What are you going to model?"
Tarps? Drapes? Tent covers? Ear muffs? Knit caps? Snow caps? Doilies? Hair scrunchies? Place mats? Closets? Stencils? Fire extinguishers? Lawn mowers? Kitty t-shirts? Accessories? Foreclosures? Zombies? Proactiv? Panties? Proactive Panties? I-O-Digital-Cable-Watch-A-Lot-Of-Channels-Whenever-You're-Able?
Yes. And then tell the man with the money to come over here and pay me.
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| Resolutions |
[01 Jan 2008|02:25pm] |
I really just have three resolutions for the new year:
1. Make more biscuits (whomp variety is ok).
2. Reaffirm my commitment to having pretty hair (You may find this hard to believe, but I do slack in this arena).
3. Figure out a way to merge nos. one and two in order to save time. I have a secret yet radical agenda to accomplish this year!
Ok, then. Happy New Year!
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| Tainted Love |
[13 Dec 2007|03:15pm] |
Here's the thing about nearly empty subway train cars: if there's a car ahead of it that's jam packed with people, and a car behind it that's jam packed with people, go for one of the jam packed cars.
Your (and my) more likely inclination is to go for the less full car, right? Spread out, enjoy the ride. WRONG. Don't do that. There is something wrong with that nearly empty car and I assure you that you want no part of it. In a case I experienced this week, and it's true in most cases, it's because one of the passengers in that car is the producer of a revolting, permeating smell that I call, "Hobo Taint."
Hobo Taint: a succinct, filthy description you can use in front of the entire family.
**
All I want for Christmas is sleep. And cash.
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| Hooray! |
[19 Nov 2007|12:20am] |
I got my first big break this weekend! I'm going to be a non-speaking townsperson in the upcoming digital reality series:
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| Information Society |
[09 Nov 2007|06:56pm] |
How can it be that Myspace Tom is not my friend? The man has over two hundred seven million friends, and I'm apparently not one of them. We were friends when I first joined, and as far as I know I didn't delete him as my friend. Maybe I did. Maybe I did delete Tom. Maybe in an attempt to achieve a balance in trying to keep my online friends the same as my IRL friends, I deleted his profile as my friend ages ago and just forgot. Yeah, I think that's what happened. Tom, can you forgive me?
Oh, I just checked and he added me back already. What a nice guy! I hope he has great success with this Myspace thing.
In case you missed them before, here are some of my clips on Youtube. My style is "gay/lesbian" because they don't have a category for "damn queer." Be sure to scroll down and look under "Favorites" for Pittsburgh Fashions with me. Just so you know, in the coming months I'll be adding new videos.
It is also important for you to know that Jimmy Carter: He will slay your cat. Isn't this the sort of thing that should have been sealed from public view from the day it was written until 50 years after his death?
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| A Haha Dog Is a Great Big Treat! |
[09 Oct 2007|12:18pm] |
"Oh, my dear, it's a buffet. I have chicken a la king. I have cold turkey. I have hot rolls. I have cold ham. I have a big watermelon, all filled with fresh fruit." -- Perle Mesta
"...And Cherry Burpees for Dorothy and me!" -- Mama Spell
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| Not the Real Deal |
[15 Sep 2007|06:03pm] |
I realized this week that I missed the anniversary of my quitting smoking five years ago. Perhaps this is because being in New York makes me want to smoke and it's all I can do to not think about smoking. But that's impossible to do here. Plus, I've become addicted to Mad Men in which everyone smokes all day. In the interviews about the show, it's revealed that the actors are actually smoking herbal cigarettes. These don't have tar or nicotine, but do offer two things: smoke and the act of smoking. I started thinking that this may be a good compromise to my taking up this habit again. Only, I've heard they taste like fruity nastiness. And I'm afraid that they'll be the gateway back to the real thing.
There's a smoke shop I've passed quite a bit in the Village. I walked into it this week. Actually crossing the threshold felt like a defeat. But I couldn't help myself; the Herbal Cigarette Sirens were singing me forward, step by defeated step. Turned out that store didn't sell them. The singing stopped and I walked out of the store.
Anyway smoking ages you, and Father Time is doing a good enough job of that already. Two people asked me my age this week. I'm not ashamed of it, but it's a weird reminder of all the things I have yet to accomplish, and the limited time there is to do those things. So I don't reveal it right away. You'll have to buy me dinner first.
Knowing someone's age seems to put that person into a category that's not necessarily accurate. I've heard from some people that the quality of my firsthand stories lead them to believe I'm older than I am. That's due in part because I leave myself open to interact with strangers because, well, that's how I enhance my story collection. Then the fact that I do leave myself open for new experiences makes me seem to some, oddly, inexperienced. And that's when people talk to me in tones reserved for the head of the PTA when she decides that she'll just handle the bake sale. You don't have to worry about it.
Last night on the ride into Manhattan, a guy got onto the train with a couple of shopping bags. He sat across from me, pulled out a gift box and some tissue paper, then started to wrap the tissue paper around the box. He was almost wadding the paper around the box, crumpling it, not even attempting to be smooth about it. We made eye contact, and the look in his eyes was that of amused confusion. I took out my earphones and asked if he needed some help. He smiled and said no, he was getting it. He wasn't getting it. And as much as I hate when I'm trying to organize that stupid bake sale as earnestly as I can then that stupid cow steps in to do it faster and better, I walked across the aisle and took over. He ultimately seemed grateful, saying it was a gift for his sister and that he really did appreciate my help. Looking back, with my stranger danger IQ apparently at rock bottom, I may have very well have been getting into his van to help him look for his lost puppy. Maybe it was for the best I lost the bake sale.
I arrived at the theatre a little early, so I went to a shop to drink coffee and to do some writing. After I sat at my table, I noticed someone giving me the eye. He soon walked over and said, "Excuse me, you look very familiar. Did you go to Columbia?" No. "Sarah Lawrence & Columbia?" Nu-unh. "Wow, you really look familiar. Are you sure you weren't in an MFA program at Columbia?" If this were a scene at UCB I should have said yes on this third beat to help move this scene forward. But this was IRL and I just wanted it to stop so again I said no. Then it seemed like he was fishing to make conversation. It seemed this way because he seemed to start grasping for places. "Bryant Park? Ever hung out at Bryant Park?" No. "Ever been through Bryant Park?" Ah, kind of. "Ever been to the Millenium?" Which I'm guessing meant the Millenium Hotel? Was he thinking I'm a very well educated, well traveled prostitute? I wasn't really sure if that's what he said either, because by this point I was busy looking around for an adult I could trust. He told me again that I looked really familiar to him, and I offered, "Well, I am told I look like Elizabeth Taylor." "OH, NO! Not Elizabeth Taylor! You're like, 100 years younger than she is!" And within a few "Oh, well"'s he was satisfied that we did not know each other and left.
So, I do not offer my true age to people, but I will now in this context tell you Elizabeth Taylor's true age. She is one hundred and twenty nine years young. Thank you.
From that encounter, a story from last week became more relevant. I was walking in the Village (not buying cigarettes), and out of the corner of my eye I saw a man start walking alongside me. He looked at me and began to speak as though he were greeting an arch nemesis.
"Hello, Simone."
I ignored him. He noticed.
"What, you’re not going to talk to me now, Simone?"
I lost him in the shuffle of people, which was good because I couldn't help but giggle at his passionate plea for Simone's attention, and at her cold, calloused heart.
Suddenly, the two stories started to make sense. Perhaps Simone was the same recognizable person standing around Bryant Park with her prestigious degrees hanging out? So later last night when I returned to the apartment, I made a Google image search for, "Simone Columbia Sarah Lawrence" to see if I could find my doppelganger. Here are some results: 1, 2, 3.
Any of them? Really?
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| Not Without My Cupcake! |
[02 Sep 2007|01:26pm] |
My back decided to misbehave this week. Bad back. Bad, bad back. But Aleve is a wonderful drug. Good Aleve. Good, good Aleve. Especially good in an Alevetini.
The tenth anniversary of Princess Diana's death marks the tenth anniversary of the conclusion of Rich's and my second date. Our first date was in April of 1997. He came to Pittsburgh for a week, so I count that as one long date. Our second date was in August of that year. I went to visit him in Scotland for that entire month. Our third date was in 1999 in Pittsburgh, and that date lasted five months from January - May, until our marriage. So, we were married on our third date. (We had been pen-pals for two years before our first date. There's a lot more to this story, but we'll get to that another time.)
Diana died the day before I was set to fly back to the states in late August of '97. Rich and I woke up that morning to see images of Buckingham Palace on television with its flag being flown at half staff. Rich remarked, "The Queen Mum must've died." That was not the case, and the actual news was quite shocking. We watched tv, then went out for a bit to experience the remainder of the Edinburgh Festival. But everywhere we went there was a cloud of sadness, between us and around us.
I cared somewhat about Diana's death, but must admit I was more concerned with the immediate realities in my own world. Rich and I seemed to be good partners for each other, but how on earth were we going to make an overseas relationship work? There was so much at the time that was out of our control, so much that we didn't know not to worry about. And that worry was enhanced by the incessant images of people weeping and wailing about the news of Diana's death.
That Monday, as we traveled from his flat to the airport, we sat quietly in the back of the cab. But once inside the airport, the images of people weeping and wailing resumed on the televisions and covers of newspapers -- everywhere. I finally gave into the notion we were just going to have to have a big, tragic emo festival. After Rich and I finally parted ways, I went through security, then turned the corner to see a duty-free whiskey tasting station. I'd never (until that point) been happier to see booze in my life! After about an hour of "tasting," I bought a bottle of Glenkinchie.
I was quite proud of myself for toting that bottle in one piece, back to New York then Pittsburgh, in my carry-on back pack. A few days after I'd returned home to Pittsburgh, my friend Danni came over and we shared a good portion of that bottle together. I sipped mine and she downed hers. She got drunk sooner, but I caught up later.
Last week, at the end of August 2007, I left Rich again. This time to return to New York. Oh, we're still a couple, but we're just in different cities for a while ... again. It's not easy for some people to understand, and I've gotten some really dumbass questions from the unwashed masses. But Rich and I have done this before and we make it work. However, I still can't help but feel some sadness in the separation, some bit of helplessness in a situation that will resolve itself over time.
Last night I went to a friend's birthday party, and it really helped to reconnect with friends here. She chose a 1970's Fantasy Prom theme for the evening, and it was wonderful! She even arranged for balloons and confetti to fall from the ceiling (not pig's blood, which would have been awesome but then we would have all been locked inside, many of us crushed to death and the rest of us trapped by fire).
I may have been the only person there who didn't have to shop for an outfit, and that supposition I hold as a banner of accomplishment. We were welcomed to fill out name tags and give ourselves seventies' character names. There was a "Danny," a "Crystal," and also in attendance was a very cute Frenchie dog named Hugo. I suggested we rename him "Cujo." But his name tag wouldn't attach to his collar, and putting it on his fur just seemed silly. I wrote my tag: "Mama Spell." No matter when I give myself a different nickname, people still go to ye olde familiar touchstone of a nickname. So I don't fight the feeling.
To get to that part of Williamsburg from Queens, I had to change trains twice. I left the party while it was still hopping because didn't want to be riding the rails too late. Some other party goers with a car were leaving at the same time I was, so my friend arranged for them to drive me back to the subway stop. That was very, very nice. As we said goodbye, we walked past the cupcake table. I thought I'd be a punk and snatch a cupcake for the road. In my mind, it was a final bit of Patti Smith in-their-faces rock-n-roll silliness. "Thanks for the cupcake!" Only, I got out to the hallway with my purse in one hand and a cupcake in the other. Oh, not so funny now, is it? What the heck was I supposed to do? I couldn't return it, and I wasn't really in the mood to eat another cupcake. So I carried it.
I carried it in my hand to the car, in the car, on the subway, on the sidewalks; like a small bouquet of daisies or Lady Liberty's lamp. That's what you call, "Blending in by sticking out." (Which I heard in soundbites a lot this weekend. It's what Owen Wilson said about his role in The Wedding Crashers.) I thought, if anything happened to me last night, like if I were abducted or in an accident, someone would be more likely to remember me. "Yeah, I saw her. She was standing there with that black and silver acetate seventies gown on, holding a pink cupcake. Then these men in bandannas came up and grabbed her...and tied her to the train tracks and demanded the rent..." And that daydream was soon validated as it just happened that I transferred from the second train to my third train with the same set of guys. When we got onto the same car on the N train, we sat down with about fifteen empty seats between us. One guy pointed at me and said to his friend, "Isn't that the same person from the other train?"
(Holding up my cupcake) "We can hear you!"
And it's hard to believe, but only one guy later stopped on the subway stairs to tell me, "You look beautiful." Yes, I like to assume he was talking to me, but know fully well he was talking to my cupcake. But aren't most guys really just talking to your cupcake?
Somehow it made it back to the apartment intact. I didn't accidentally drop or smush it along the way. And it's now Sunday, and I'm enjoying my coffee and looking at my cupcake that I'll not be sharing with anybody. It's very pretty.
But soon it will be toast.
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[30 Aug 2007|01:44pm] |
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I'm back in New York.
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| Remember when I said... |
[27 Aug 2007|07:57pm] |
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mood |
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 drunk |
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...that pageantry leads to education?
You may now refer to me as "The Prophetess Mama Spell."
HOLLAR! (PS thanks for the link, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) clobby!)
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| Online Tonight! |
[11 Aug 2007|04:18pm] |
Hey!
As many of you know, I have a piece of visual art in an erotic art show called Golden Gals Gone Wild. Yes, it's erotic art with a Golden Girls theme. The opening is tonight in LA.
It will be premiering at the World of Wonder's new Hollywood Blvd. gallery space, and you will be able to see the show by going to Ring My Bell (http://www.ringmybell.tv/) where you can watch it all live. There will also be a phone line set up so you can call and speak with the curator, the artists (including me!), and patrons opening night Saturday, August 11th 8-midnight (Pacific Time).
Call us!
xo
http://www.myspace.com/goldengirlsgoerotic
http://www.worldofwonder.net/
http://www.ringmybell.tv/
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| Free Mamia! |
[25 Jul 2007|06:44pm] |
I performed at The PIT's 2 Minute Drill last night. This is their open mic night where performers get two minutes on stage. If there's time after that, we get two more minutes. I've been there before, and that first time I went in without prior knowledge of the drill format. In my first set, one of my jokes was cut short just before the punchline. I was relieved to find that I could begin my second set with that punchline. It killed...and died.
The way to get on the drill is to write your name on a slip of paper, then place that slip of paper in a basket to be drawn out at random. Last night I realized when the announcer called my name... after a few beats. As the audience was clapping, I heard him say Spell, but didn't recognize the first name he called me. Then when it was my turn, he said my name again the same way, but I knew he wasn't saying my name right. I got up to the mic and asked him what he called me. "Mania Spell. What you wrote."
Then, at my second set a different guy was announcing and he called me, "Mamia Spell."
I will practice my penmanship before the next open mic. I will practice my penmanship before the next open mic. I will practice my penmanship before the next open mic....
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| I put the Ass in Déclassé / You can't fall off the floor |
[22 Jul 2007|01:11am] |
Do you think that if I make some damaged looking Prada tags, then sew them into my Lane Bryant fashions, would that work for a big-money-cash-day reimbursement from ConEd?
On a somewhat related note, this week someone yet again used the word "déclassé" in a conversation me. I never hear that word except when I'm in New York, and it sounds odd. And that makes me think déclassé ...of they. (One guy told me he got rid of his southern accent because he thought it was déclassé. But on me it sounds charming). So be prepared: when I'm in Pittsburgh during August, I'm going to use the hell out of that word. Yew know, 'cause yinz is being rul déclassé n'at.
I've nearly completed the 201 level of Improv @ UCB. All that's left is the graduation show that starts at noon today. Then later this evening I'll perform with the Balthrop, Alabama show in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Hope to see you @ one of these events. Or if not, then soon!
***************
SUNDAY, JULY 22
Improv 201 Class Show
at The Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre
307 West 26th Street (Between 8th and 9th Avenue)
12 p.m. $5
SUNDAY, JULY 22
Mama Spell performs with Balthrop, Alabama
at Bait & Tackle, corner of Van Brunt & Pioneer, Red Hook, Brooklyn, NY
9 pm. Free
******
NEWS UPDATE:
The Golden Gals Gone Wild show has moved to a much larger location. The show will open Saturday, August 11th at the brand new World of Wonder art/performance space located at 6650 Hollywood Blvd at the corner of Hollywood and Cherokee. If you've ever seen a World of Wonder production (Party Monster, Eyes of Tammy Faye, TransGeneration, Tori and Dean:Inn Love) you know what a perfect fit it is. So I expect to see you all there in geriatric drag from 8-midnight August 11th. Make sure to check out the constantly expanding list of artists and performers.
Jackie Beat, Angus Oblong, Chris Zimmerman, Glen Hanson, Lenora Claire, Jason Mecier, My Secret Life in Glass, Thairin Smothers, Chuck Hodi, Michael Alig, Gidget Gein, Ed Mironiuk, Matthew Bone, Plastic God, Mad Puppeteer, Jim Winters, Austin Young, Selene Luna, Jtodd Irby, Chris McKim, Garilyn Brune, George Skinner, VK7, Big Tasty, Trevor, Mama Spell, Peter Adamyan, Adam J. Ansell, Adam De Ville, Miss Fiend, Steven Corfe, Pam Holland, DJ Jason Savvy, + some *very* special guests.
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| I need a nap or to be put to sleep |
[15 Jul 2007|12:24pm] |
THE NAME YOU NEVER SAY AT THE THEATER
My MacBook crashed last night. Do they make brain helmets for Macs, or just PCs? Some of the changes I made on sketches for my Monday night class are wiped out.
But I do still have access to one complete sketch, the one my teacher said one of my sketches is ready to put on stage.
SIZE QUEENS
For the greater part of August I'll be in Pittsburgh, and for the lesser part I'll be in LA. In Pittsburgh I'll be working at the Frick, then helping Rich with our bathroom remodeling at Middaye. In LA, there's big news brewing about the Golden Gal's Go Erotic art show. Got a Myspace bulletin from the show's curator saying it's being moved to a bigger location. She'll announce details on Monday.
EVERYBODY HURTS
Improv 201 is going well but it is hurting by head, which in turn is damaging my hair. On Friday I felt like I started grasping the concepts we are learning. But tomorrow's class will bring new challenges, with or without silkening conditioners.
On that note, Rich will be here next weekend. Last night I could've used a night visiting with a husband and some kitties. Not saying which husband or which kitties, but here is a hint:
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| School in the Summer |
[09 Jul 2007|05:32pm] |
The episode of Tyra I attended when I was in LA is on the air now! I'm watching the woman who was sad she got flipped off backstage. :(
Booked my flights back to Pittsburgh, and also for the trip back to LA for the weekend of the Golden Girls show in August. If you live in either of those cities, and are not creepy, I'd like to see you soon!
And on a summer-related note, heat is stupid. Thank you.
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| What Good Is Drinking Alone in Your Room? |
[30 Jun 2007|02:24am] |
Come hear the music play!
I sang that spontaneously to a new UCB friend* a couple of weeks ago, but I find it's still as topical today.
For the past two weeks I've been working on a journal entry. It was badass, kickass, yet somehow still half-assed. During the day I work away from the computer, then at night I'm at the theatre away from the computer, and my other free time is made up of, among other things, working on my sketch comedy stylings. That last task is actually at the computer, but I work hard to make my middle of the road comedy! No dilly-dallying! Anyway, the blog world has taken a back seat to my tireless back seat.
Then yesterday that journal entry I'd so diligently yet sporadically been working on vanished. It's gone. Not quite sure what happened, but it wouldn't surprise me if the secret editors of Live Journal went through and aptly judged that rough draft, "Unfit to publish." "Even for LJ standards." They were probably right to delete it; it was a mercy killing.
So, I do want to tell you one important story from that entry about a man on the subway from last week. As he entered the train car I was in, he stood apart from the crowd immediately because HIS FACE HAD BEEN BURNED OFF BY ACID. Not only was it apparent to the untrained eye, but he then also pulled out laminated newspaper articles about when he was attacked with a bottle of ACID TO THE FACE. He explained through his barely mobile mouth that he was in the subway collecting money for his reconstructive surgery. Y'all, I never give money to panhandlers. Generally if someone on the street stops me to say, "I'm homeless," or "I'm hungry," I really have no idea if the underlying subtext isn't, "I want heroine," or "I'm dyslexic."** If anyone asks me for money in public, I direct them to the nearest United Way. But y'all, I could see that this man had had ACID THROWN IN HIS FACE.
So I gave him a dollar. Yeah. I did.
Tell you some other stories later.
*I know that you know that I go to school with the dimly lit shadow puppets I make from the Glade scented candle in my room, right?
**I'm hungry.
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| Pomp and Circus Stances |
[28 Jun 2007|06:23pm] |
Hey Folks,
My UCB Improv class graduation show is this Saturday, June 30 at 4 pm. Hope you can attend !
You've seen me perform my solo act, now watch me work well with others. This is a very new kind of gig for me; I may fall flat on my face, or I may fall in the other direction (it's funnier anyway). Come by to see!
And feel free to bring people, it's a free show!
SATURDAY, JUNE 30
Improv 101 Class Show
at The Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre
307 West 26th Street (Between 8th and 9th Avenue)
4 p.m.
http://www.ucbtheatre.com/
http://mamaspell.com
http://myspace.com/themamaspell
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| One Touch Changes Everything |
[17 Jun 2007|06:05pm] |
Had a great visit in Pittsburgh last weekend. Rich and I went out to dinner, then to a friend's awesome art opening on Friday. On Saturday I went to a house warming party. Sunday was the event I flew back for, The Mattress Factory's Community Garden Party. I have emceed this event for the past seven or eight years, and I get high from the energy generated at this afternoon party. Sunday evening Rich and I had a quiet evening at home. Then on Monday I flew back to New York, and that's when things started going downhill.
Originally I was set to fly directly from Pittsburgh to LaGuardia, but the airline canceled that flight. With the re-routing, my arrival in New York was pushed back so I missed one class that afternoon, but on the other hand I did get to visit the Providence airport! Hooray!
Made it to my second class, then afterward met some friends @ Splash for Musical Mondays. I ordered a drink, then sat down with the group. There was a guy sitting at the table next to ours who turned a couple of times to sing along with us. Then when my head was turned toward my friends, without saying a word he reached over and pinched my right nipple. Then he turned back to his table. What. The. Hell. I immediately jumped up and turned him around, got in his face and said many, many words to him, most of them unkind and impolite.
I've never spoken openly about this before, but I've lost count of how many times this particular sort of unwelcome, uninvited mauling has happened to me, with no warning and mostly in the name of humor. Gay men think it's hilarious or something. It's not all gay men, just the remedial ones whose only context of gay social life is watching Will grab Grace's tits on TV. These slow gays then go out into the world thinking that that is acceptable behavior to mimic, and somehow they find their way to my nipples to tweak. And then somehow they find themselves getting a beat-down from Mama Spell. Really, what is the matter with people?
Remedial Gays: weren't you done with women's breasts at age 18 months, or isn't anyone breastfed anymore?
Most of my week involved dealing with this crap all over again; this post-traumatic crap and this depression crap and this anger crap and all this stupid assault and agoraphobia crap. And I'm alone and away from home. Wah! Tuesday was the angriest and saddest I've been in a while. I had plans to see a show that night, and as much as I didn't want to be around people, that's the only way to move forward and leave the crap behind.
That night's downpour started when I was nearly to the subway stop. I ran, hoping the rain would subside by my destination which was the L @ 3rd Street. When I got to that stop, I and about 15 other people saw the rain was still going strong so we waited at the base of the stairs. Among the people waiting was an Orthodox Jewish man who was perhaps in his 80s. At first I thought he looked familiar, but looked away quickly as I rapidly realized I did not know this stranger. But then I continued to watch him out of the corner of my eye as he stood, using his walking cane to balance himself. He soon took his newspaper and made a palate to sit on the subway stairs.
I had plenty of time to get to my destination, but was growing impatient so I looked again to see what the rain was doing. It had let up some, so I thought I'd be brave and go forward into it.
He saw me heading up the stairs and stopped me to ask, "Is it still raining?"
"I think so, but I don't feel so sweet anymore so I won't melt."
"Hey, you're so sweet you'll melt anyway." Then he reached out and held my hand in his. We held hands for maybe three seconds, and he again said, "You're so sweet." Then I said something superficial like, "You have a nice day." I pulled my hand to his shoulder and gave him a loving pat as I walked past him up the stairs.
I had such a knot in my heart from the night before. Then that simple gesture of kindness unraveled me. And I did melt.
A friend of mine sent me this link on Wednesday (scroll down): Many 63-year-old ladies would be flattered if a 31-year-old guy tried to touch her leg, but not Patti LaBelle. When a male fan tried to cop a feel as she performed at the Holt Renfrew opening in Vancouver, she snapped, 'I'm not some hoochie, and I can still kick your a--.'
And I'm kicking some a-dash-dash now. I have a part-time job lined up, and have a couple of gigs planned for the coming week.
I'll tell you a more lighthearted story later. In the meantime, be sure not to purposefully grab anyone in his or her bathing suit zone unless he or she invites you to do so. (That's for those of you who have never been told that before -- now you know).
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| I spy! |
[13 Jun 2007|12:29pm] |
Over the weekend I heard from several friends that they are disapointed in me. They've been checking my blog to read about my summer in New York, but I haven't been making time to post entries. So for now, here's a list of my recent
CELEBRITY SIGHTINGS
Helena Christensen
Kristen Johnston
and
I was on the flight from New York to Pittsburgh with psychic Sylvia Browne! I respected her privacy and did not ask for a reading. Well, I did ask, but telepathically. In my mind I said, "Sylvia Browne, I am back here in coach while you are up there in first class. I hate to bother you, but I would like a reading about my career. I respect your privacy and don't want to bother you. But if you would be so kind as to help me out, I'll really appreciate it." And she didn't respond so that either means that A.) She mentally declined my request, B.) There can be no letter B because she is not a phony.
I also saw her later on the arrivals curb when we were both waiting for our limos. Hers was silver and mine was called the 28X.
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| The Move In / Hooked on Gays Works for Me! |
[04 Jun 2007|01:38pm] |
The drive from Pittsburgh to Queens went smoothly. Although tempted, I didn't eat at Cracker Barrel on the way. Have you ever heard of a more racist name for a present-day business? I mean, Cracker Barrel. And who dines there? Crackers. They (I) line up in those rocking chairs around the block just to get in! Regardless, this time I ate at Wendy's. It was fine, and really anywhere I am is a Cracker Barrel. ...Except I like when the gays work for me...
My friend and now roommate Jeff helped tremendously with the moving in of my boxes and bags. The apartment is really sweet, and reminds me a bit of the set of Three's Company but with an extra bedroom. The layout is different, but the rooms are similar in size. My roommates have the same blue and cream mugs and dishes that Rich and I used to have. This set were our first everyday china that we recently sold the last of, then bought a new red set. Now here I am back again with these same dishes. Will the saucer be unbroken? (You know you like the badness).
I bought a tv from their former roommate whose room I've rented. I was planning to go cold turkey this summer from my Montel addition. But Montel and especially psychic Sylvia Brown -- I can't quit you.
Friday night we went to see Sweet Paprika @ D-Lounge. Saturday night Todd and I had dinner @ Chelsea Gay Beach (dot com), and then I saw The Gender Offenders at The Duplex. Sunday was a day of rest and finding a free wifi connection. I rearranged the furniture in this room about five times in two days to get three bars of connection. Thank you, "Alice." Last night I met Todd again at Splash, then off to the Slipper Room to see Pepper Mills. Afterward I met a friend I knew in Pittsburgh who also just moved here.
This is my first experience traveling on the N/W line. This line really freaks me out because in Queens the train is elevated and open air. It's like riding the monorail @ Disney World, only with more vertigo and less Japanese.
Got home around one am last night. Today I'm listening to to Nina Simone and wondering what to wear for my first day of class.
Tell you some other stories later.
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| Traveling Light |
[31 May 2007|11:18pm] |
Whenever I cross a bridge in heavy traffic, I consider what it'd be like if the bridge were to collapse at each stop over the river. If I'm stopped in the middle, it'd be over fast, but all dramatic like the opening scene from The Big One: The Great Los Angeles Earthquake. But the closer I get to the other side, the more horrible my fate is in my head. The closer to the edge, the more likely I am to be mamed or die by inches. There's a touch of the Punch and Judy in all of us, no?
Pittsburgh has a LOT of bridges, second in the world only to Venice. Many of Pittsburgh's bridges are old and rickety, and you can feel every lug nut as it ambles across the 130 year old steel structures.
Speaking of old structures, I bought new makeup this week. Even thought I'm on a stricter budget for the summer, I actually went on a small shopping spree this past week. But it was all stuff I need for my trip to NYC! I need makeup! By the way, anyone know how Chanel compact powder tastes sprinkled on ramen noodles?
Yeah, I'm having a small amount of buyers remorse about my move this summer. But it's too late to turn back. I'm driving to New York in a few hours.
And who knows, maybe Punch will let me borrow his rouge.
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| Mama Spell's Bible Study Gloss |
[26 May 2007|09:50am] |
Available in any color, as long as it's black.
(I originally tried to post this a couple of days ago, but Live Journal was not agreeable to that notion. Here goes try number fifteen.)
"But if the bright spot remains in its place and does not spread, it is only the scar of the boil; and the priest shall pronounce him clean. Leviticus 13:23
I'm from south Mississippi, also home of Brett Favre, pronounced, "Farve." I also pronounce "February," as "Ferbooary" and "Febreze," "Farbe-easy." Ok not really, but I do call all sodas "Coke." For the past ten years I've lived in Pittsburgh, home of an even funnier accent than any southern one I've ever heard. I've been to a lot of places that are fun, but Pittsburgh is fun-ny and that's why I live here. But in eight days I'm heading for New York where I'll live for two months, and I'm plenty excited for this move. My comedy is subtle, and it's spreading like the leprosy of the Old Testament. Pretty soon I'll not only be pulling your leg, but watching as it snaps off into my hands, betrayed by its own hilariously diseased synapses.
"What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one which is lost until he finds it?" Luke 15:4 "Especially if that's the most agreeable one?" Mama Spell
I'm a bit overwhelmed from the outpouring of support I've received over the past few weeks. Folks have come out of the woodwork to help me meet my goals for school this summer, and that has touched my heart through my blouse. On the other hand, someone I thought was in my corner has since unfriended me on Myspace. He could have done this because of any number of factors that has nothing to do with me. But it's outstanding because the last time I talked to him, he told me he was jazzed about my summer plans, said he was proud of me and to keep in touch. I took him seriously, but you know in writing that does look like a veiled kiss-off.
Going out now to the liberry to read about strawbreries.
"I will also laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your dread comes." Proverbs 1:26
So yeah, let's keep in touch! xoxo
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| Y'all come over to see us! |
[20 May 2007|12:01pm] |
SUNDAY, MAY 20
Mama's Bazaar
Earthstone Coffee, 7332 Penn Ave. (Point Breeze, Corner of Penn and Carnegie Place, between The Frick and Gemini Theater)
12-6 pm. 412-243-0855
Hey Folks! I'm enrolled in Improv and Sketch Writing classes this summer at New York's Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre School. I'll be there for all of June and July, and to help defray the cost of tuition and living in New York, we're holding Mama's Bazaar. Earthstone Coffee (in Point Breeze) has been kind enough to offer space for us to sell Art! Fashion! Odds! Ends! Stop by to say hello, have a cup of coffee. We'll be there from 12-6 pm.
Remember Jackie O's auction back in the 90's? Well, this will be similar, but I'll still be here (Lord willing) to see you enjoy my Chanel (knockoffs) and Prada (you. Really prada you!). We'll also be selling my paintings at amazing prices!
We are selling: art, comic books, clothes, electronic equipment, cds, art, dishware, housewares, jewelry, books, games, art.
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| You must purge the evil from among you. Deuteronomy 13:4 |
[15 May 2007|03:15pm] |
Went to the schmancy art auction @ the Carnegie last night. There is photographic evidence of this somewhere out there, but I don't have it yet. I wore a new silk skirt that I bought at Culture Shop in South Side. It looked great on me, and I know you know that.
But the real score of the night was that I got street parking to attend the event! That's $5 of mine the parking authority did not get! There are risks associated both with parking in parking garages or on the street, but especially with parking on the streets of Oakland in Pittsburgh.
After the event I returned to my car to find a folded piece of paper under the passenger side window. I unfolded it, and it was an asymmetrically photocopied list of Bible verses with the title, "What to Do When Troubles Hit Your Life."
"Oh, Crap! Someone's hit my car and is trying manipulate me by listing Bible verses about forgiveness and other sympathetic hippiedom."
I quickly circled my car to check for damages, but saw none. Didn't see any in the daylight today either.
No, the Bible verses were just left to be inspirational. I'm now inspired to toss that piece of paper into the recycling bin.
Do not eat anything you find already dead. Deuteronomy 14:21. Sushi is tonight! Oh, Boy!
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