Hello to everyone and yes, we have to apologise for not keeping up in the past two weeks with our blog. We were off to a really good start and now the amount of work coming up has driven me away from the internet. Please take it as a really good sign that in these times of "credit crunch" that Andrew and I are up to our eyeballs in work load. And we mean that.
The reason I am taking a minute to write to you all (especially considering it is a friday night and Andrew has a pizza cooking in the oven) is that I need some help.
My vocal teacher has asked me to be a part of his Showcase. This is a big deal for a number of reasons. One: My vocal teacher is rather big in town and for that reason I am honoured that he thinks me worthy of performing in a Showcase and Two: A Showcase is something that either big schools or professional teachers will put on and invite agents and casting directors to view their graduating class/students. Now, because my vocal teacher is so big this means that A LOT of really amazing agents and casting directors will be there. The catch: there is only enough time for me to sing two songs. Therefore they have to be really good.
Now, I am fine for the legit soprano piece, but I really, really need a pop or rock song as a lot of agents want to know that you can be versatile. (A.k.a one year you could play Mary Poppins and the next you could play in We Will Rock You or Mamma Mia! - it's all about trends...)
So, with the mass amounts of records and cd's that I know my family owns, if any of you come across one that you think would be great for me (hopefully in the next week as there are only 6 weeks until the Showcase) please let me know.
What I am looking for is something not too well known (i.e. not Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me - everyone and their mother sings that one.) but preferably a quick tempo piece. (i.e. fast) I love old jazz numbers and stuff like "Midnight at the Oasis" and "I'm all out of love".
So please, Granddad and Charlene, Gram and Grandma, Mom and Dad, Aunt Jean Marc, Judy,David, Linda, Sandy, Ray, Colleen, Bob, Elaine, Curtis, Nathan, Alayna and Nick, Emily and Andrew, Rachael and Scott, Amanda, Britt, Ben, Barb and Bill and the Willicks and ANYONE else who reads this Blog - if you have any ideas for a pop or rock song that I could sing - no matter what year it was - send me a quick note or an email - call me at 2 a.m. I don't care...just HELP ME PLEASE!!!!
yours waiting ever so patiently...Brianne
Friday, February 20, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Return of the Random Thoughts
Once again I subject our loyal readers to the disconnected musings of my well-meaning but increasingly enfeebled brain!
The morning commute can help you discover the oddest paradoxes. The other day I found myself wedged between two tube riders, one of which stank of foul body odor, the other who reeked of Ivory soap! I actually found Soap Man harder to deal with.
I've had the chance to ride several English trains into the areas surrounding London, and it's a great way to travel. They're all rather "light rail" in nature, something like the GO Trains of Toronto (without being double decker.) I wish against wish that Ottawa would remove it's major sensory organs from it's sphincter, realize that the dedicated bus lane along the 417 is a pointless joke, and put in a light rail. By the by, has the strike been settled YET?
Brianne and I have discovered a new favourite take-out restaurant called Nando's. It's a chicken joint specializing in Portuguese barbecue, and it's a rather popular chain in London. Brianne tried it whilst on her tour and got me addicted in short order. The Portuguese spice is called
Piri Piri and it is mind-blowing, so we tend to go for the milder version of Mango and Lime.
I've mentioned the snow here in London, but I have not mentioned the cold. Granted it is balmy here compared to the frigid conditions of home-sweet-home, but there's a subtle difference in the chill here. It's a moister cold here, so even if the temperature is relatively mild, the nip of the wind goes through to your bones. Thank goodness for our little block heater.
Parting shots: Odd little observational humour from the morning paper.
When people who manufacture drawing boards want to start over, what do they go back to?
If sign-makers are on strike, how do they display their discontent?
Striking two halves of a pistachio shell together gives the impression that a very small horse is approaching.
The morning commute can help you discover the oddest paradoxes. The other day I found myself wedged between two tube riders, one of which stank of foul body odor, the other who reeked of Ivory soap! I actually found Soap Man harder to deal with.
I've had the chance to ride several English trains into the areas surrounding London, and it's a great way to travel. They're all rather "light rail" in nature, something like the GO Trains of Toronto (without being double decker.) I wish against wish that Ottawa would remove it's major sensory organs from it's sphincter, realize that the dedicated bus lane along the 417 is a pointless joke, and put in a light rail. By the by, has the strike been settled YET?
Brianne and I have discovered a new favourite take-out restaurant called Nando's. It's a chicken joint specializing in Portuguese barbecue, and it's a rather popular chain in London. Brianne tried it whilst on her tour and got me addicted in short order. The Portuguese spice is called
Piri Piri and it is mind-blowing, so we tend to go for the milder version of Mango and Lime.
I've mentioned the snow here in London, but I have not mentioned the cold. Granted it is balmy here compared to the frigid conditions of home-sweet-home, but there's a subtle difference in the chill here. It's a moister cold here, so even if the temperature is relatively mild, the nip of the wind goes through to your bones. Thank goodness for our little block heater.
Parting shots: Odd little observational humour from the morning paper.
When people who manufacture drawing boards want to start over, what do they go back to?
If sign-makers are on strike, how do they display their discontent?
Striking two halves of a pistachio shell together gives the impression that a very small horse is approaching.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Sky is Falling!
Run! Duck! Hide under your desk! For God's sake, shelter the children and hide your pet safely in a laundry hamper! London is engulfed in . . . 6 inches of the fluffiest snow imaginable and the apocalypse is apparently upon us. Honestly, the way this town loses it's mind over a little white stuff makes Toronto look like Yellowknife. Wow, how long has it been since I could make such a truly Canadian reference and know that my audience will know what I'm talking about?
The snow began on Sunday afternoon, when Brianne and I had been spending the entire day hanging out with her friend from the panto tour Clare and her boyfriend Jonathan. Lovely people, an actor couple like us, great pals to have. We've now got them hooked on a reality show that we like(d) called Murder in Small Town X. You may not remember it, it was only on for one season in the summer of 2001, but it was a great mix of reality contest and murder mystery, and we're watching it with them on YouTube. When we left their place that night, it was a fluffy marshmallow dusting all over the place, pretty and seemingly harmless.
The next day London was in the fetal position. Nearly all the tubes were down or severely delayed, every bus in town was cancelled - something that even The Blitz didn't achieve - and motorists were warned to stay off the roads if not absolutely necessary. I was one of only three people who made it to the office, other two being a hardy Aussie and a Frenchman with a skiing background. All manner of shops were closed, West End plays were called off for the night, two airports shut down, Heathrow cancelled dozens of flights, loss of business cost the city over a billion pounds . . . and I know all this because today's newspaper had about 10 pages dedicated to the devastation caused by 6 bloody inches of snow!
It was nice to notice some sense of humour about the whole affair yesterday. When I was waiting on the tube platform, an announcement came over the PA describing about 5 line closures and severe delays everywhere else. After a couple of seconds, the announcer piped up again and declared, "For once, ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT our fault!" Chuckling ensued amongst my fellow commuters.
The snow began on Sunday afternoon, when Brianne and I had been spending the entire day hanging out with her friend from the panto tour Clare and her boyfriend Jonathan. Lovely people, an actor couple like us, great pals to have. We've now got them hooked on a reality show that we like(d) called Murder in Small Town X. You may not remember it, it was only on for one season in the summer of 2001, but it was a great mix of reality contest and murder mystery, and we're watching it with them on YouTube. When we left their place that night, it was a fluffy marshmallow dusting all over the place, pretty and seemingly harmless.
The next day London was in the fetal position. Nearly all the tubes were down or severely delayed, every bus in town was cancelled - something that even The Blitz didn't achieve - and motorists were warned to stay off the roads if not absolutely necessary. I was one of only three people who made it to the office, other two being a hardy Aussie and a Frenchman with a skiing background. All manner of shops were closed, West End plays were called off for the night, two airports shut down, Heathrow cancelled dozens of flights, loss of business cost the city over a billion pounds . . . and I know all this because today's newspaper had about 10 pages dedicated to the devastation caused by 6 bloody inches of snow!
It was nice to notice some sense of humour about the whole affair yesterday. When I was waiting on the tube platform, an announcement came over the PA describing about 5 line closures and severe delays everywhere else. After a couple of seconds, the announcer piped up again and declared, "For once, ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT our fault!" Chuckling ensued amongst my fellow commuters.
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