by Karen Tortora-Lee on November 17, 2008
You know you’re at a David Mamet play when, before the show even starts, you’re asked to turn off your fucking cell phones.
While the play was first produced in the seventies, the subject matter is hardly dated; nothing gives away the time period (except for John Leguizamo’s crazy-patterned shirt — which could easily be more of a nod toward his character’s thrift-store-shopping-habits than the decade); even in the program “The Time” is listed only as “One Friday”.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on October 9, 2008
CIRCUMLOCUTION \sir-kuhm-loh-KYOO-shuhn\, noun: The use of many words to express an idea that might be expressed by few.
I have been accused of circumlocution virtually since the day I started speaking. If you flip through the pages of my life and stop at almost any day, you’ll find a conversation like this one going on:
Random Teen from the Past: Karen and I are going to a party tonight. Wanna come?
Other Friend: I might as well … I’m only going to have to hear all the stories about it later, and it will take less of my time I just go along now.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on October 3, 2008
mmm-mmm!
Boy oh boy … how I love a good sandwich. I know they’re the worst things for you. I know they’re full of bleached flour, processed meats, gloppy condiments, fats, salt and nitrates. I know that. What’s your point? You are what you eat so I am a big ole sandwich. When I die you can wrap me in some wax paper, bury me in one of those little deli containers and put me on that great conveyor belt to the sky.
Stephen likes them too, but he is the King of the Dagwood Sandwich. Early on in our relationship I’d asked him what ingredients would he combine to make his favorite burger. By way of example, I created mine for him: English Muffin bun, a big juicy burger seasoned with basil, slathered in Hellman’s Mayonnaise and Frank’s Red Hot Sauce … some sauteed onions and thick cut apple smoked bacon on the top. Yum.
He responded by building his for me: bottom bun, mayonnaise, avocado and onions, honey mustard, all beef patty, cheddar cheese, ranch dressing, Doritos, sauteed lettuce and cabbage with garlic, 2nd all beef patty, Swiss cheese, ketchup, more mayonnaise, slice of lettuce and top bun. Continue Reading…
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on August 25, 2008
Years ago I got the Gregory McGuire book Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West and it immediately became one of my top favorites of all time. I’m a big fan of stories that tell the other side of the story (see: Rosencrantz and Gildenstern are Dead). Moral of Wicked: Don’t always believe the first story you hear, even if that story is coming from a poor little Kansas farm girl who got picked up off her fence post by a tornado and was deposited, worlds away, into a strange place where 1) citizens are diminutive and members of something called the Lollipop Guild, 2) the welcome committee is comprised of one women who arrives onto the scene via Floating Giant Bubble, 3) there’s only one road you can follow to get out of the place, and 4) everything that’s gone wrong is the fault of some wicked green witch who likes to transform people into tin and straw for kicks when she’s not commanding a fleet of flying monkeys.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on August 3, 2008
New York City in the summer can be brutal … hotter than hot and crammed full of people. While a lot of people spend their time doing the “Yay! Summer” chant, I spend June through September finding ways to avoid the whole thing.
These last few weeks have been in the high 80s, the low 90s, I can’t remember exactly — the heat runs it all together for me. So what better way to forget your troubles than in a darkened movie theatre?
While I’ve always been okay with science fiction, fantasy, and graphic novels turned into movies, it was more of a take it or leave it thing before meeting Stephen. Had it not been for him, I’d never have seen a movie like GhostRider or Fantastic 4 or X-Men. Some I’ve liked more than I expected to, some I’ve suffered through, but all have lead to good conversations afterwards since Stephen is such a fan of the dark vs. light concept.
On Friday night after work we were able to catch Hellboy 2 which was a movie I was definitely looking forward to, having been such a fan of the first Hellboy.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on August 3, 2008
When I was a little girl I was shocked to discover that you could check records out of the library just like you checked out books. It almost seemed like stealing … stealing with your EARS.
Since my dad’s collection of records was extensive but sadly lacking a few staples I immediately headed over to the Broadway section to see what they had. And there I found a treasure of shows I’d never even HEARD of before, all for the temporary taking. I was like a kid in a candy store. But more like just a kid. You know … in a library.
The first record I ever checked out was Damn Yankees. I renewed it over and over again, sure that I was begrudging some other fan of their dose of Lola and Shoeless Joe but to hell with that! Of course, looking back, I bet I was probably the last person to check the record out, but if not, I can safely say I was probably the last 12 year old.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 5, 2008
Years ago PEOPLE Magazine had done an excerpt of Celine Dion’s autobiography and it had me virtually LOLing on the plane all the way to Ft. Lauderdale. Unable to keep this gem of a story to myself, I proceeded to do a dramatic reading of it in the voice of Celine herself for my hosts that night, replete with odd French Canadian accent and sweeping arm gestures.
My favorite parts to read aloud were the ones that involved Celine’s deep deep deep love for her old old old husband. The first passage was about how, as a young teen, she used to keep a picture of Rene under her pillow and rub it all over her face, smothering it with kisses till the picture was worn through. Then one day OH NO! The picture was gone! Her mother had found it and taken it! Girlish Crush: Exposed! Nightly Ritual: Discovered! Forbidden Love: No Longer Hidden! The next day her mother replaced the picture without saying a word. Crisis: Averted! Mom knew which side the bread was buttered on.
The second howl-out-loud section dealt with Celine’s wishes to conceive a child with her old old old husband. After a painfully earnest set up she ends the section with how her doctors chose to tell her and Methuselah the good news. They gathered them into a room and announced (over speaker phone) the itchy squirmy phrase: CONGRATULATIONS LOVERS!!!
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on January 27, 2008
Seriously? Where the hell is she?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking as a fan. I’m not saying “The world needs more Sarah Brightman so, DAMN IT! I want to see her represented more in mainstream pop culture!”
I’m also not asking where she’s gone on her travels as of late.
And I’m not asking where she’s gone spiritually.
No, I’m asking where pie-faced, mooney eyed, matronly little chunk of a Brit, Sarah Brightman has gone. This Sheryl Crowbot in her place that writhes in come-hither fashion and even manages to sex up the Ave Maria is NOT the Sarah Brightman I’ve known and (not) loved for the past 20 years.
See for yourself.
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