Elegantly Random

Your stupid life event.

I've been thinking a lot (and bitching a lot, frankly) about gift-giving. This may be partially because in the past 5 years I've been invited to about 15 weddings and had about 30 friends reproduce. I'm thankful to know these people and to be included in their milestone events, but the gift-giving side of things is frankly really damn stressful. I get so tired of poring over wedding and baby registries, and don't even try to tell me you don't get sick of it too. Two years from now, if they even still have the gift you gave, they're not going to remember it was from you. Same goes for anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas, etc. Why must everything be so commercial, anyway?

Don't get me wrong - I really enjoy giving gifts. But the occasions for gift-giving keep increasing - faster than my bank account, frankly - and it can be really tough to keep up and stay inventive. I swear, people will think of any excuse to celebrate/give gifts. I love making handmade gifts, but not everyone appreciates the effort or enjoys the look of handmade stuff.

So when Jay found this article yesterday, I nearly peed myself giggling over it. The writer sure is cranky, but there are many valid points raised here. My favorite line: "Oh, your kid just got confirmed? Bully for him. I'm glad he's officially a righteous Christian fuckwit now. But I'm not going to bestow a gift on the kid for it. You know what his gift is? Jesus' love. Suck on that." Enjoy!

Behold my stubborn streak.

As I've stated many times before, it is my fervent wish to live in many different places before I die. This is likely the result of having parents who moved a lot, and having lived in six states already I'd say I'm on my way. I am loving life in the South, and would be up for living in another Southern city such as Atlanta, Charleston or Savannah at some point. Also on my to-do list? Living on the west coast - particularly in Seattle, Portland or San Francisco. It might sound funny, since I've never visited any of those cities, but from what I've read, I have a feeling they'd be absolutely perfect for me. Liberal? Check. Artsy-fartsy? Check. Cooler and wetter climates? Love 'em. I would love to live in New York or Boston one day, and if the opportunity ever presents itself for us to move overseas or to a major Canadian city like Vancouver or Toronto, I will not hesitate.

That said, my husband could tell you that ever since he's known me, I've been known to occasionally start ranting and raving about all the places I won't ever live. Period. And it's a sizable list at this point. My apologies if your state is on the list, but hey - it's MY list!

Illinois, Nevada, Florida, Kentucky, Tennessee, Utah, Texas: I don't want to live in a state in which the city I'm in is the only city for miles around that I want to visit. And these are all states that have maybe ONE cool city and that's about it. And don't argue with me on Florida - my mind is made up. Tampa/St. Pete or forget about it.

West Virginia, Kansas, Oklahoma, Nebraska, North Dakota, South Dakota, Indiana, Idaho, Iowa, Arkansas: There's flat-out nothing there that I would ever want to experience on a day-to-day basis.

Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri: Just too effin' hot. Period.

Alaska, Montana, Wyoming, New Mexico, Minnesota, Wisconsin: Gorgeous, tempting...but just too remote.

Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania and upstate New York: Been there, done that.

Connecticut, Delaware: Just plain suck.

#1 Non-Negotiable Most-Hated Place - New Jersey: I hate it with the fire of 1,000 suns.

So basically, that leaves California, Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Colorado, Hawaii (heck, I could overlook the remote part in this case), Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts and Maine. And New York City. Those are the places in the United States I'd consider living in at this point in time. And honestly, I'm pretty steadfast about this. Jay knows all too well how seriously I take this stuff.

You may be wondering why I've arrived at New Jersey as my #1 Most Hated Place in the United States. Granted, there are several states I have yet to visit, and I'll allow that my opinion may change after I've seen all 50 - but I doubt it. Jay and I have had several arguments about which is worst, Connecticut, Delaware or New Jersey, and I am holding on to New Jersey as the worst. The people are rude and pissy - and I honestly don't blame them, given the fact that they live in New Jersey. Traffic is awful, the roads suck and people drive like absolute maniacs. Sure, it has a few lovely spots, like the Delaware Water Gap, but they're all choked among the grimy, polluted cities and railways, many of which are falling into decay. I can't tell you the number of times I've been lost and/or nearly died in New Jersey. I could go on but I won't, because thinking about New Jersey always gets my ire up. Sorry to all of you readers who might be from the area, but that place SUCKS. I cannot think of a single thing - not money, not absolute power, not a 100-day orgy with Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt, that would get me to move there.

Which is why I had to laugh today when a friend linked me to the most outstanding graph EVER on GraphJam - it basically sums up my feelings on The Garden State 100%.

Away we go!

Summer 2009 is turning out to be a whirlwind. It didn't start out that way; three months ago, we had nothing on the books but a trip to Maine in June for my brother's graduation and then our annual beach vacation, which we pushed from July to September.

But then it sort of dawned on me there was absolutely no chance I could make it till Labor Day before going to the beach. It was all downhill from there. So far, I went to Pittsburgh for a wedding in June, then we went to Bar Harbor, then Jay went to Pittsburgh for his grandma's birthday, and we just got back from 4 days in Tybee Island and Savannah, GA. Remaining on the schedule:

July 10-12 Charleston, SC to see Eric, Milay and Lillian
July 24-26 NYC (just me) to visit Jen
August - possible weekend trips (sans Jay) to Missouri (my grandparents) and St. Simon's Island, GA (my aunt), visit from my parents
September 5-12 Holden Beach, NC

The summer will be over before we know it! I feel so lucky to live in North Carolina, where we have all kinds of great weekend destinations available to us, and also to have awesome family and friends who help care for our dog so we can run around and do all this stuff.

Our weekend in Tybee/Savannah was wonderful. We headed down on Thursday and enjoyed three nights in a cute little beach cottage on Tybee Island with friends Cheryl & Josh. We opted to stay at the beach rather than in town, knowing that it was going to be HOT and we would likely want access to water. Boy, were we right. While we did spend a full afternoon exploring Savannah, the rest of the time was spent beaching, eating out and just visiting. It was a good choice. I was prepared for the heat, but I got an awesome sunburn nonetheless. Jay and I have already determined that we're going to have to return to Savannah in, say, November to check it out when it's cool enough to function. We did make it to the Telfair Museum, the River Street shops, the Colonial Park Cemetery and tooled around some of the most famous squares. My to-do list for our next visit is already a mile long!

I'm trying to post as many photos as I can on my Flickr site (see link at left) so you can follow along! If you're thinking about planning a vacation to Maine, North Carolina, South Carolina or Georgia, chances are good I have travel pointers!

Promoting Eating Disorders Since 1892

Here's a scenario for you. Let's say you're a nice, normal sized American woman - let's say you wear a size 12, for instance - a very common size still several inches away from a plus-size. Let's say you're interested in buying a new pair of pants, so you head to the mall to scope out your options. And let's say you walk into a store only to find they don't have a single pair of pants in your size. Probably not going to put you in a big-spending kinda mood, huh?

Or let's say you want to get a job, so you again head to the mall to find gainful employment - and you duck into a shop and fill out an application but you never hear back. Then you find out another of your friends did get a call for an interview - and she's three sizes smaller than you are.

Any guesses as to which store is irritating the crap out of me this week?

Ding ding ding!!!

To tell the truth, I don't think I ever bought more than a couple of items at A&F, even in my darkest years when I was desperately seeking validation. There are several reasons for this. One: my parents didn't buy that shit for me. They bought me clothes up through the end of high school, but after that I was on my own. And the clothes they bought were a bit more sensible. Two: since I had to pay for the stuff myself, and a tee shirt cost like $35, I really couldn't afford to shop there. Three: seeing as I wasn't ever a size 2, and more accurately during my college years I was more like a 12, and seeing as A&F only stocks up to about a size 10, I had trouble finding things that fit me. And let's face it - no one wants to feel like a fatass before even trying things on. Even though I'm back down to a size 6-8, I won't shop at that store. And four (probably the most important reason): everything in the store was designed for and catered to sluts. And I'm not a slut.

In addition to offering skanky clothes designed to make women feel bad about themselves at exorbitant prices, Abercrombie & Fitch has been plagued with legal and economic troubles (gee, I wonder why). Several friends and acquaintances have worked for Abercrombie or its sister store Hollister over the years, and I've heard quite a few tales of the discrimination and racism that go on in the store. Perhaps you, too, have heard of the Abercrombie & Fitch "Look Book" - a manual that's handed out to each employee with guidelines for appearances. Doesn't sound so bad, right? Abercrombie just wants employees to maintain a cleancut, all-American look! Well, if you don't think that sounds so bad, how about Riam Dean, an A&F employee who was banished to the storeroom when her managers discovered her prosthetic arm. Or Kristen Carmichael, also exiled to the storeroom after her managers rated her face. If you go digging around online, you can find other instances of individuals who claim to have been discriminated against by the company on issues of weight, race, etc. Way to keep it classy, Abercrombie & Fitch! I guess by "cleancut" and "American" they mean "anorexic" and "slutty."

I think by now most people I know have long since given up shopping at stores like Abercrombie & Fitch - and if you haven't, shame on you. We're not the target audience anymore. We're not 16. Well, maybe a few of my readers are, but all you Gen X and early Gen Y readers should know better than to be caught dead spending your hard-earned cash at A&F or any other similar store. And yes, I will admit that I still buy jeans and the occasional loungewear at American Eagle Outfitters, but no other jeans fit me as well, and I refuse to spend more money. So there. In their defense, AE offers women's jeans up to a size 18. The Gap goes to size 20. And let's face it - American Eagle never hired people to stand in their damn doorway posing as still-life models.

So join me in my universal ban of all things related to A&F or other like-minded clothiers! And I'll keep you posted when I open my own line of clothes, TwoSixy, wherein I shall employ a Look Book that demands my employees wear clothes that fit them and accessorize with a signature eyepatch.

Remembering a legend.

As everyone knows by now, we lost Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson (!!!) this week. What a huge chunk of Gen X's childhood to lose all at once. Ed was a household name, Farrah's hair was legendary and Michael changed the face of pop music forever.

I know it's kinda crass, but I'm really only sad about Michael - as troubled as the past 15 years have been for him, I didn't see that coming. At least Ed lived to be an old man. Farrah's death put an end to a long and painful battle with cancer. But Michael Jackson's heart stopped yesterday and it shocked the world.

What makes me sad is that because Michael got SO weird in the latter part of his life - financial and legal battles that obliterated most of his wealth and rumors and allegations of child abuse and molestation - many of us who "knew him when" have forgotten his former cool factor. And younger generations don't even realize how badass he was. Sure, everyone likes his tunes still, but most would ultimately categorize him as a freak.

And yes, Michael Jackson was a weird, freakish man. But I feel sorry for him. I think his story is tragic, and I think most of his problems can be attributed to a childhood spent almost entirely in show business - he really didn't have a childhood at all. It was spent singing for people in bars and nightclubs, and then the Jackson 5 exploded to fame and all the pressure was on Michael to lead the way. That's a lot for any kid to take.

In my opinion, Michael formed unhealthy relationships with children because they represented a purity and innocence that he never was able to experience. I believe Michael went to such drastic measures to change his appearance because he didn't know who he was. Even as far back as the Bad and Thriller albums he'd had a lot of plastic surgery. By the time Dangerous came out, he no longer resembled his childhood self. In the past ten years, I think I speak for most people when I say I couldn't bear to look at him.

But regardless of his personal battles, Michael Jackson changed the face of pop music worldwide. He was one of the most gifted performers ever to walk across a stage, and 25 years later his songs and his music videos are still completely awesome and cutting edge. One of my very first memories is of my mom watching the Thriller video in our house in Michigan - I couldn't have  been more than three - and I absolutely loved the music but the monsters scared me so I would hide behind the chair and just peek out intermittently. That's my first musical memory, and it completely shaped my musical taste.

I hope that the world will join me in choosing to remember Michael for his talent and his vibrant energy as a performer and not for his dark, troubled personal life. I'm going to remember him like this:

and this:

and maybe a little bit of this:

Rest in peace, MJ.

Just say no!

It has come to my attention that Walt Disney Pictures intends to remake their 1960 classic film Swiss Family Robinson, which was a remake of a 1940 film by the same name.

Hollywood has long been out of new and inventive concepts for movies, and rather than come up with new ideas they just continue to remake and repurpose the same old movies over and over and over again - because five versions of Wuthering Heights are NOT enough! Why strain braincells to come up with new and potentially unsuccessful stories when they've got failproof material SCREAMING to be remade with Lindsay Lohan as the star?!

I am a huge fan of the 1960 SFR and I don't much care to see a remake starring the latest Disney Channel teenyboppers, thank you very much (even though I realize the old version starred Disney teenyboppers of the day, but THOSE guys weren't making sex tapes, okay? Don't crush my memories!)

So I'm going to boycott the new SFR, because let's face it - the other remakes have for the most part sucked. Lohan alone starred in 3 Disney remakes, and even though she's persona non grata these days, things are only going to go further downhill. Do you really want to see a Mary Poppins remake starring Vanessa Hudgens? Old Yeller starring Zac & Cody? Or Babes in Toyland starring Ashley Tisdale? Well, do you?! Join me in refusing to watch any SFR other than the original!

Because what if the madness doesn't just stop with Disney? We are in grave danger of a Wizard of Oz remake starring Miley Cyrus if we don't watch our backs. And I really don't think any of us want that. If anyone remakes Gone With the Wind with Katy Perry, I'm going to go postal. I'll firebomb the set, man, don't think I won't!

Katy Perry as Scarlett O'Hara

Apologies to my husband.

Over the years, I've dated a lot of men (and boys, and children, and whiny sissies, but I digress). They've come in a lot of shapes and sizes but the common thread? They've all been pretty. Some have been manlier than others, but they've all been really, really pretty to look at. I like pretty men. That's not a slam on their sexuality or machismo - it just means I like beautiful faces. Look at some of my greatest loves - Paul Newman - beautiful and pretty. Manly, yes - but pretty. Leonardo DiCaprio - pretty. Jake Gyllenhaal - uber-pretty, and maybe not straight, despite his ongoing attachment to various skinny blondes.

Which leads to today's topic. Recently, I've come to a sort of strange and uncomfortable realization. In addition to pretty men, I am attracted to a not insignificant number of gay men. Not all gay men, mind you, but enough to make me kinda go "Huh." And I realize that as I type this I'm probably bringing shame to my husband, who is very, very pretty and definitely not gay. TRUST ME.

Jay. My husband.
Very pretty; very straight.

So, with apologies to Jay, who is very straight and very pretty, let's take a short tour of some of the known gay men who make my heart skip a beat. And let me clarify - I'm not saying "Oh, he's so cute and I want to be best friends and go shopping together." No. These are men I find wildly attractive and would gladly aid in straightening out their sexual preferences. If they weren't gay. And I weren't married. And if the moon were made of feta cheese (drool) and I could shit hundred-dollar bills.

Without further ado, I give you...

The Hot Gay Man Parade!

Anderson Cooper
(the gay love of my life)

Oh holy mother of God, Anderson Cooper is a hot man. There is no denying it. Every single woman I know agrees on this one. He's the Silver Fox! He's dead sexy and completely manly. He's like the Harrison Ford of gay men. Every time I watch 360, I'm silently wishing he were at the very least bisexual. It just seems so unfair that he's not even a teensy bit into women, when all the women are so into him. *sigh* I love you, Anderson Cooper. You complete me.

Neil Patrick Harris

Let's get a few things straight (ha!) - I didn't like him on Doogie. I don't even like blondes. I don't know when or where this lust for NPH sprung up, but just look at him, will ya? He gets points for being pretty, and for being well-dressed, and also for being in Cabaret. Because y'all know how I love musical theatre (don'tyoujudgeme). Yep, this dude's come (ha!) a long way since Doogie Howser, but I'd still read his PC journal anytime.

Lame.

Those two examples were of the sorta metro-manly-gay type, the sort any normal red-blooded female would be attracted to. Now we delve into a flamier kind of gay man, the sort that I'm a little embarrassed to admit having a crush on, but admit it I must.

Ryan Gaycrest - I mean, Seacrest

A few years back when he was more teenybopper-ish with his artfully spiked, bleached-blonde hair, this guy really screamed gay to me. Now he's got the uber-sleek metrosexual fashions going and the perfectly coiffed 'do - he's pretty. Very very pretty. And he claims to be straight all the time. And I like to look at him. Plus, he's not out of the closet, so that just "is he or isn't he" allure to the whole package. But let's be real. He's totes gay. And he might seem metro-manly like the two above examples, but I really believe he's a closet flamer. I bet he puts on heels at home. I'd like to take him aside and explain to him that he's gay and that's ok, but that I'm available if he wants to double-check.

Side note: ever notice how Gaycrest never, ever looks tired despite the fact that he never sleeps and is on approximately 30 shows? Thanks for that observation, Jen.

Adam Lambert

American Idol's runner-up is the toughest for me to categorize or explain. Sometimes, he's a total flamer, and other times he's this androgynous emo-theatre-dude (re: "Glambert" - see above) - either way, he's PRETTY. And he totally has musical theatre face. My coworker (who's in her 50s) and I both drooled over him all season, and I can't tell you how many times she whined "Why can't he be straaaight?!" Well...because dudes who dress up in guyliner, glitter and platform shoes are not straight. They're just not. But somehow, I still think he's pretty. And I'm SO not the only one. I know a TON of girls who think this guy is hot, so again - DON'T YOU JUDGE ME.

I could write a whole other blog full of examples of guys who claim to be straight but are totally in the closet and who I would do in a heartbeat, but I'm getting all uncomfortably hot and bothered and I gotta go. But just know this, Zac Efron - I'm on to you. I've got your number.

The peskiest pest.

In case you hadn't realized it, I've been a bunch of places in my lifetime. I've lived in six states and visited 32. I've been to Canada, England and the Bahamas. And believe me, throughout all these travels, I have intimately experienced a lot of pests. I'm categorizing "pest" as something that bites you and can leave a nasty scab, lump or welt. I'm leaving out spiders and snakes here and going for more icky and regional pests. As recently as last week, I could make a pretty good argument that I'd encountered some of the worst pests in the US and probably win most any debate on the topic. But then...then I went to Maine in the summertime, and everything changed.

In order to give you a bit more background here, let me share with you some of the varmints I had previously considered for the top spot. I'm gonna need photographic evidence to support my argument, so if you're easily grossed out this may be the time to cut your losses and run for the hills (with plenty of bug spray and cortisone cream).

Chiggers

They're teeny - nearly microscopic - little mites that burrow holes in your skin and leave awful red sores that itch like the dickens. It's important to note that chiggers eat skin, unlike other nasty insects that drink blood. They live in tall grass in the southern and midwestern (hot, sticky, sweaty) states and they love to venture into the sweatiest parts of your body where your clothes fit tight - around your sock cuffs, underwear or waistline, bra line - you get the idea. They are AWFUL and your chigger-infested body will look like this:

Ticks

I'm gonna go ahead and put ticks higher than chiggers on the awful list, just because they attach themselves to you and suck your blood like a leech, can be really, really hard to pull off and then leave a horrible, painful welt - and that's IF you manage to get them off of you before they become engorged in your flesh and you have to be rushed to a hospital to have them removed, and IF they don't give you deadly and terrifying Lyme disease. Plus, ticks are found all over - wherever you've got woods, you might find a tick.

That picture just made me throw up in my mouth a little.

Leeches

As gross as they are, I can't wholly hate leeches. Not all of them suck blood, not all suck human blood. But when they do, they latch on tight and suck till they've had their fill. At least they let go when they're sated, and have been used for medicinal purposes. But as some of you may know, I know a girl who had a summer camp experience with a leech that was less than pleasant and I just cannot abide them. Not to mention they are found in most kinds of water, fresh or salty.

And now that you've had that sunny revue of MY favorite nasty biting insects, allow me to introduce you to the black fly.

It's small. It's nasty. It swarms or travels solo. It bites you, sucks your blood and leaves a welt. A huge, nasty painful awful itchy welt the size of your thumb. And I got about 7 of them while I was in Maine. And as if the bite wasn't bad enough, they carry a charming disease called river blindness. Here's a picture of one of the worst bites I got during the week.

Maybe it doesn't look that bad - I happen to think it does - and it is, as I said, the size of my thumb. Not to mention that it hurts and itches. And I have two more on my left inside thigh, one on my left bicep, one on my left elbow, one on my right elbow, one on my right inside knee and a few other questionable ones scattered about. BOO! Worth it to be in Maine, but BOO!

SO! I ask you! What is YOUR most hated pest?

Gone sailin'...

I know I've been away for quite some time - usually before a vacation I try to put up a notice of some sort letting my rabid fans (ok, my 12 readers) know not to expect any updates for a few days. This time things were just too hectic. And then I was in Bar Harbor...

for my brother's high school graduation...



some amazing seafood...



a little whale-watching...



a bunch of hiking...



and a good time in general in one of the most beautiful places in the United States.

I've got some humdingers in the works, kids. Just hang in there and blogging will resume shortly.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Truth: I love musical theatre. Always have, ever since I was a little girl and I used to dance around the house with my mom's guitar case in one hand and a box suitcase in the other and sing "I Have Confidence" with Fraulein Maria in The Sound of Music. It's in my blood - I got it from my mom, who grew up doing theatre and also playing in pit orchestras and to this day is heavily involved in high school and community theatre productions in Bar Harbor. I studied dance and voice, acted in countless community theatre productions and eventually decided to make directing a focus in college.

For the past few years, I've really been bitching and moaning up a storm about the state Broadway's in. For those of us who love musical theatre AND possess the pesky traits of cynicism, elitism and a strong dose of snobbery, the offerings of the last ten years have been meager at best. It's a damn shame the way Disney bought up the place and maintains a stronghold over the entire thing. I've also had it up to here with the whole "let's take a moderately amusing film and turn it into a Broadway musical!" Thanks to that winning equation, we've been showered with an endless stream of crap that includes Shrek the Musical, Legally Blonde the Musical, The Wedding Singer the Musical, 9 to 5 the Musical, and I'm sorry but I have to also include Billy Elliot the Musical in that list of drivel. Oh, and I almost forgot - The Color Purple the Musical. Hey, Broadway! Is there ANY creativity left? Hmm? Remember when movies used to be adapted from the stage? What gives?

Everyone has their own preferences of course but I've been so crabby about Broadway that I have sort of been boycotting the recent shows. Lately, I'm trying to stock up on the cast recordings of the few that were worth a damn and at least give a listen/look to each new thing just to see what it is. Friends - this is worthy of a whole other blog, but Spring Awakening? That was some good shit. Can we get some more of that?

Now - bearing all that in mind - I have to remind myself, America does love mediocrity. So if the people want mindless, unimaginative bullshit on stage for $75/ticket, then that's what the people will get. But if you're gonna go corny, you should go all the way. For this reason, I couldn't be more amused by the idea of Rock of Ages. There's no pretense of any kind of interesting or enlightening story. A bunch of dudes got together one night, probably shitfaced, and said, "Dude...let's make a musical with 80s songs." How do I know that? My friend Andy and I had the same damn idea several years ago and drunkenly started mapping out 80s the Musical featuring such hits as Jesse's Girl and Don't Stop Believin' - we should have patented that shit! I'm cool with cheese. Just don't try to make me think it's high art.

Since 80s the Musical totally got stolen from under my very fingertips, I want to publicly share with you the awesome idea I had for a stage production. Since everyone seems to want to spend a week's salary seeing movie adaptations set to music - how about this idea? The Princess Bride the Musical.

Think about it - it's sheer genius! The possibilities are endless. It's heartwarming but funny, dramatic but corny. And just about every scene in the film is BEGGING to be turned into a musical number. Here's a rough sketch of just a few scenes - just remember, you heard it here first.

The Princess Bride
The Musical

Act I

The Princess Bride, By S. Morgenstern, Chapter One
Grandpa sets up the story for The Grandson.

Farm Boy
Buttercup, covered in filth and fleas, bosses Westley around like it's her job.

As You Wish
Westley, also covered in filth and fleas, sings of his secret longing for Buttercup, despite the fact that she is the dumbest chick in four counties.

Is This a Kissing Book?
The Grandson gets impatient with the romantic beginning to the tale.

Humperdinck
A full-company musical number introducing our wussy Prince.

Anybody Want a Peanut?
Fezzik and Inigo enjoy a rhyming banter as Vizzini prepares the ship and hauls Buttercup across the sea.

The Shreiking Eels
An orchestral interlude in which Buttercup nearly bites the big one.

The Cliffs of Insanity
Vizzini & Co drag Buttercup's prodigious ass up a very steep cliff.

Humperdinck's Tracking Song, Part 1
Humperdinck ruminates that "There was...a mighty duel!"

Humperdinck's Tracking Song, Part 2
"Someone has defeated a giant!"

Inconceivable
Vizzini narrowly avoids a nervous breakdown as he prepares a battle of wits with Westley.

Humperdinck's Tracking Song, Part 3
"Unless I am wrong...and I am never wrong...they are headed straight into the fire swamp!"

I Will Always Come For You
Buttercup and Westley are gloriously reunited, with much inuendo.

Act II

The Fire Swamp
Westley reassures Buttercup, who is moderately skeptical, that although he wouldn't want to build a summer home here, the trees are actually quite lovely.

The Six-Fingered Man
Westley IDs Count Rugen as Inigo's "six-fingered man."

I Will Always Come For You (reprise)
Buttercup remembers Westley's promise after Humperdinck promises to send his four fastest ships to find him.

Boo! (Rubbish! Filth! Slime!)
Obligatory dream sequence in which Buttercup imagines her coronation going horribly awry. A gnarly old woman spits and snarls at her for giving up Westley.

The Pit of Despair
The Albino introduces Westley to his ominous new home. A big ensemble number involving all the prisoners.

I'm Swamped
Humperdinck regretfully declines Count Rugen's invitation to Westley's first torture session. "I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder and Guilder to frame for it."

The Man in Black
A desperate Inigo uses his magical sword to locate Westley, his last hope for exacting his revenge against Count Rugen.

He's Only Mostly Dead
An old-school softshoe number that continually picks up the pace. Miracle Max explains Westley's predicament and he and his lunatic wife Valerie provide a pill to revive him.

The Dread Pirate Roberts
Inigo, Fezzik and Westley storm the castle and scare off the Prince's army, most of all the worthless Gatekeeper.

Mawage
The Impressive Clergymen weds Buttercup and Humperdinck...sorta.

Hello! You Keeled My Father! (Prepare to Die)
Inigo finally slays Count Rugen. Lots of dancing and impressive swordsmanship.

To the Pain!
Westley outlines Humperdinck's impending punishment.

I'll Always Come For You (Finale)
Westley and Buttercup ride off into the sunset, followed by Fezzik and Inigo, who have succumbed to their own mutual passion.

I'm telling you, kids. It's gonna be a hit. I predict at least 7 Tonys. At least. Casting ideas?