Magic Rocks

"Magic Rock, Magic Rock, what will you be? Magic Rock, Magic Rock, change on three. 1...2...3! Astronauts!"

"I'm an astronaut!" - "Great Alex!"
"I'm Darth Vader!" - "Ok Boston."
"I'm an alien!" - "Sure Michael!
"I'm an asteroid!" - "Um, Oliver."
"I'm a shark!" - "In outer space Bradley?"

I am teaching five 4 year old boys how to act. At 10am. On Sunday morning. And it's as if they've already shoveled down five pounds of sugar and lost their sense of hearing. At least asteroids are in outer space. But sharks? Sharks aren't in outer space. Then again, I've never been to outer space to prove it. So...

"Yes! Good shark-astronaut Bradley!"

Positive reinforcement, whether they're following directions or not, is the only way to get through these 45 minutes without anyone crying...me included. And letting them run around and chase each other is the only way to keep five 4 year old boys interested in an acting class.

Magic Rocks, in case you're wondering, is a simple acting game. I whip out my imaginary invisible super magic wand which is a different invisible color each day (today it is blue with gold sparkles and a lime green star on top) and turn each kid into a rock. For one beautiful split second, the kids shut up. Then they have the power to turn into whatever I say. Astronauts. Superheroes. Pirates. Dogs. Ninjas. When things get out of hand, like all the monkeys escape from the zoo and fall into a lava pit and start screaming, my blue-gold-green magic wand transforms them back into rocks! Silent rocks! And then we sing the song again and change into something else. I don't mean to brag, but the pretty wand and the catchy song are my own special touches that I've added to the game. The kids pour into the classroom singing my Magic Rock song. With no clue that I made it up on the spot on the first day of class.

"Magic Rock, Magic Rock, what will you be? Magic Rock, Magic Rock, change on three! 1...2...3! Cowboys!"

"I'm a cowboy!" - "Good Alex!"
"I'm a cowgirl!" - "That's fine Michael."
"I'm Darth Vader!" - "Still Boston?"
"I'm a jelly bean!" - "What?! Oliver, you have to become what I say. You have to - "
"I'm a shark!" - "Bradley!!!! Ok, yes, what a great Cowboy Shark you are!"

Every day I plan to do something different from Magic Rocks. I've got a ton of games up my sleeve and I've got different stories to act out. But every day they come in chanting the Magic Rock song. I start playing a different game and they shout "Let's play Magic Rocks!" and "I like Magic Rocks better!" Don't they get sick of this game? Should I be teaching them new things? Will they ever grow as actors if they always play the same game? And same characters, even.

I may not be creating the next Robert DeNiro and Meryl Streep. I may not ever get to the Meisner technique with them. I can't even get to the Animal Charades game with them! But at the rate we're going, these children are going to grow up to teach their children how to be a Magic Rock. Knowing my legacy is bound to live on, with patience and a resignation to keeping my other acting techniques up my sleeve, I say "Ok, Magic Rocks it is."

Hey, I actually really love the game. Only in the world of Magic Rocks can sharks live in outer space and mermaids defeat dinosaurs and monkeys fly to the top of a mountain and asteroids talk AND I have ultimate power...

"Ahh! Stop pulling!" - "Alex!"
"Ahh! Stop pushing!" - "Stop!"
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! I'm gonna eat you!" - "Boys!"
"Ow! I'm gonna kill you!" - "Don't say that word!"
"The shark's attacking!!!!!" - "1...2...3! REGULAR Rocks!"

"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"(whispering) Psst...Jodie...what does a shark rock say?" - "Nothing. He doesn't have a mouth."

Abra Cadabra!

When I was little, I had a thing for witches. I don't think I was weird - I just liked reading stories about them and watching movies about them. Like "The Wizard of Oz" and "Hocus Pocus." Who doesn't like those movies? My generation grew up on "Hocus Pocus." I read little chapter books about witches and girls who had clubs that did witchcraft. Still not weird - I'm not the one writing them. In high school, "Wicked" became my new favorite musical. And I did a term paper (or two) on the Salem witch trials. (Ok, now doing the writing.) I was so excited to take my first trip to Salem junior year - and then incredibly disappointed when nothing spooky or spectactular happened there. It was actually a little boring. And I love field trips! I guess I thought my witchy powers would come to life while I was there. I'd discover I could pause time, and fly, and cast spells for good luck. The forcs had been waiting for the day I went to Salem to reveal to me that I was the real-life Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Ok - I'm pretty convinced I'm not the only one with a witch fetish here. With all these pop culture references and the popularity of Melissa Joan Heart, I'm convinced other people have a thing for witches, too.

And so that is why I have been a witch for about half my Halloweens. The first time my mom drew a little moon and cat in silver glitter glue on my black sweatshirt. One year I had a cape with orange pom-poms on it. One year I got a wicked wicker broom. One year I was a spider witch (yea, just go with it). One year in college I was Glinda, the Good Witch of the North - that counts, too. Some people may think a witch is a cop-op costume considering I wear mostly black on an ordinary day. But I just love dressing up as a witch on Halloween! And despite my affection for my alter ego, every year my friends pressure me to do the same thing, and think really hard to be all creative and come up with a costume that's unique or funny. One year I actually was creative and dressed up for school like a Survivor on Survivor. Although I think it was too cold that night for trick-or-treating in the skimpy shorts, so when I got home from school I changed into the witch. Oh! Last year I was Sarah Palin! Although, some would put her in the witch category, too.

I was struggling again this year coming up with a costume. Tina Fey's Liz Lemon was my forerunner - but she only requires putting on a pair of glasses and wearing my hair in a low bun. I even thought about not dressing up. I'm not anti-Halloween or rebellious in nature, but I just don't get all excited to dress up. Maybe because I'm alwasy playing characters and wearing costumes every time I'm in a play. Or maybe because I'm 24 and Halloween is pretty much a kid's holiday. But then I had an "aha!" moment. A witch is a Halloween icon. A witch is traditional and classic, and something we think of when we think of Halloween. Nobody thinks of Tina Fey! And I figured all I had to do was go out and buy a witch hat. It would be an investment, considering I have no future plans of being anything but a witch for every Halloween for the rest of my life.

I am actually really happy right now that I am dressing up like a witch tonight! Why did I doubt myself? I have green tights and a little black dress and a witches hat with green trim. I didn't even have to buy it - the girl I babysit for gave me her old witches hat. My head is actually smaller than hers. Weird, I know. And I already owned everything else so this recession-friendly costume has cost me: zero dollars! But I'm not going to put green make-up on my face just in case I break out. What if I go through all this effort to greenify my face and tomorrow morning can't get it off? Or I have to scrub really hard and then my face is burnt and red? Or what if it creates a chemical reaciton with my face cream? If I ever go to a really huge costume party with prizes, maybe I'll consider putting on a green face.

Three-Quarters of an Inch is a Big Deal

I used to hate when kids at camp would say they were "11 and 3/4 years old." Or when people say they've lived for New York for "4 and a quarter years." Or friends say they've been dating for "14 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days." Round to the nearest whole number, people! Do we really need to clarify on that extra 1/4 of a year? Well, lately I've found that there is one thing we do have to be that specific with. Our height. Well, specifically, my height.

I am 5 feet, 4 and 3/4 inches.

That is not quite 5'5".

And not as short as 5'4".

And yes - it does matter!

In auditioning for soaps, where people are shorter, I feel like I need to tell them that I'm 5'4" - which sounds a lot shorter than 5'5". But when a casting notice says "medium to tall," I say I'm 5'5" because that sounds a lot taller than just 5'4".

In the winter, when I wear heels or boots a lot more, I tend to round up and lie, saying I'm 5'5". I mean, the heel does add more than that 1/4 inch. But in the summer, wearing flats or sandals, if I say I'm 5'5", people don't quite believe me. "Really?" They say. Well, no, actually I am 5'4". ...and a liar.

I never say that I'm 5' 4 3/4" because that sounds ridiculous. But it is the truth. Whenever I slip and tell the truth, people look at me like I'm pretentious. "Oh really, the three-quarters-of-an-inch really makes a difference?," they challenge. In an effort to not sound stuck-up, and to save time, I leave out the "three-quarters-of-an-inch" because tacking that onto my height adds an extra split second of conversation with somebody, taking a split second away from all the precious things I have to do in my free time. (Hey, precious seconds - like inches - add up.) I'm either pretentious or a liar. Neither of which are a very good thing.

Oh I have tried to shrink or grow to avoid this dilemma I face daily. But I am always, absolutely, positively, 100% five feet and four and three-quarters-inches. I know I am this very specific height because my mother is exactly 5'5" and I'm shorter than her. And my sister Kristen is exactly 5'4" and I'm taller than her. My mom can reach more things than I can, like change higher lightbulbs than me. So I know I'm not quite 5'5". And I can reach higher lightbulbs than my sister, which makes me taller than 5'4"!

I used to love rounding up and standing at 5'5." It just sounds more sophisticated. More classy. 5'5" is the first height that's in the category of "above average." Who wouldn't want to be above average? But lately I have been standing at 5'4" because the guy I'm dating is only 5'6." Saying I'm 2 inches shorter than him sounds a lot better than just 1 inch. Or the actual 1 and 1/4 inches. I'm liking 5'4". It's cute. It's ladylike. And it's the average height for a woman. Who wouldn't want to fit in with the rest of the crowd?

Thus my dilemma will live on...I am done growing, so this is just something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. I guess there are worse things to complain about. But really - from auditioning to dating - it really does matter.

Now excuse me, I have a date with my 5'6" friend. I need to go shrink three-quarters of an inch...