For your central Jersey real estate needs: JudyNJHomes.com
They say I'm sweet, leggy, lovely, scholarly, and all kinds of nice things. Me, I just feel high with these heels. It could be the microphone too, or the shorts.
Kat: "Oh please, stage manager Dave...please give me peace of mind and tell me that the Disney magic applies to earpieces finally working like a charm!"
Stage Manager Dave: "Sorry Kat, but it looks to me that the pixiedust that just fell from the flying Tinkerbell overhead is borderline asbestos. And earpieces never like that."
___
Stage Manager Dave: "Hey look, even if we have to hold your earpiece in your ear through the whole performance--Disney has gobs of CGI available that can remove my finger from your ear in post. On the other hand, my assistant crawling on your back behind you may have to be explained on Christmas morning as some kind of new Disney character..."
Male Aladdin cast member to left: "Wow...this close to the beautiful Katharine McPhee...and a foot away from pulling a piece of lint off the...back of her dress..."
Female Aladdin cast member to left: "The heck with the lint. I'm putting decorations on her instead of onto those horrible ozone-layer-depleting tree things behind us..."
Kat: "Oh my God...is that a cryogenic chamber rising out of the ground and Walt Disney coming out of it with a contract and pen?!"
Kat: "Hey, I KNOW I heard another voice singing with us when we got to the mid-section of 'Silent Night'..."
Peisha: "Well, with that loud buzz in my earpiece and my microphone giving me squealy feedback only dogs can hear...all I could detect was that tech guy over there grunting discordantly along to 'heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!'"
Tech guy to left: "I won't tell them that my 'grunt' is actually an unusual high falsetto I've kept in the closet for twenty years..."
Nutcracker King to right: "I may make a living cracking nuts and staring mockingly at people--but I'm not going to sit here with my mouth gaping open 24/7 without uttering at least a few notes when beautiful people are singing..."
Kat: "Ok, whoever yelled out 'I'd give anything to be that veiled ironing board'--just keep your comments and lack of suspension of disbelief to yourself!"
Kat: "Would you believe that they print Shakespeare sonnetts and plays in these things now?
"Irony alert! And, no, I'm not going to hold this rag up to show the pic of me looking at rags at this D.C. airport looking at a pic of me looking at rags at this D.C. airport looking at a pic of me looking at rags at this D.C. airport looking at a pic of me looking at rags at this D.C. airport looking at a pic of me looking...x infinity..."
"I, Katharine Hope McPhee, do solemnly swear that what I'm holding in my hand is not an oddly shaped package of C4 explosive, it is just a neck pillow."
"Uh, I think you're supposed to hold up your right hand, but since I voted for you 40,996 times a couple of years ago, I'll let that pass."
Kat: "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing..."
Dr. Phil: "Arf! That Harold's No Angel in Sing-Sing..."
Robin McGraw: "Help! My Husband Just Can't Sing!"
President Bush: "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeeeer..."
Laura Bush: "Hark! You Silly Rags Are All Wrong About Our Marriage!"
Andrea Boccelli: "Hmm! Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm hmmmm!"
"Oh, and this reminds me: I DON'T take steroids to enhance my vocal performance..."
In Vanessa's head: "Come on, Kat...look at me...look at me...look at me. Santa Claus can't come to town without us giving that knowing glance in front of the President. Oh, ok, don't--but I'm not going to suggest your name when I make 'Boston Conservatory Musical 2' in 2010!"
"I'm smiling I'm smiling I'm smiling...." "E-e-e-w-w, we did NOT just spend $10,000 in one store on Robertson Boulevard did we?"
Kat dealing with last-minute holiday shopping stress..
Panel #1: "Hey, I specifically just said I didn't want that new Chia Pet mix blended into the BSH hair spray!"
Panel #2: "Look, if I'm not allowed to buy one earring after losing the other in the women's loo...then...oh, help...my earlobe just went into safety lockdown mode!
Holiday shopping stress Part Two...
"Um, some help here guys? Guys? Oh good lord, I went through this before on my album cover and I swore I'd NEVER be in a predicament again of being stuck in high boots while everybody's away on lunch, sitting on a couch with a camera aimed at me...and with a bad headache besides!"
"Now to explain the history of the straight jacket boot to you potential customers: Harry Houdini's wife, Bess, was said to be the only woman who knew how to make masochistic leg moves to get out of these things...
A final exasperated attempt at holiday shopping during the 11th hour...
"Let's see...shoes for Nick, shoes for mom, shoes for dad, tiny shoes for Nena, tinier shoes for Larry, shoes for friends, shoes for the fans and...oh scratch all that...I just saw the store for planet Earth-sized sunglasses across the way!"
Nick: "Hey, if my girl wants to spray silly string all over me the minute midnight strikes at this New Year's Party...it's fine with me. And here I thought giving up all that mantle space for her awards was enough of a sacrifice..."
Kat: "I may have had a few glasses of champagne at this New Year's party...but when someone asks who Mrs. or Miss 2008 is in this room--I'm not keeping this arm down!"
Possible well-known woman to right: "Ha, I was Miss 1945--and marrying Father Time and having a New Year Baby that year made me Ms. 1946 in the blink of an eye..."
Nena: "I don't care if there's a 98% chance of raining plump New Year's Babies today in the L.A. area...I need to get in shape!"
Kat: "I've heard enough about babies in 2007--but I'll never tire of potentially running into Father Time..."
"Oh look! It's the Blue Angels! They're skywriting... K..A..T.. Thanks, fellas!"
"So let me get this straight: This device DOESN'T go in someone's ear by a doctor? And what's so 'special' about unleaded gas? Oh, and I guess I'll also ask why so many of those high school-age employees are standing around willing to serve me when it plainly says 'Self-serve'..."
"Hm, I just had a very naughty thought about using this gas pump against those paparazzis getting my credit card number on film--though I'll remind myself I'm basically a good person with a vivid imagination who grins and bares it..."
Readout on gas pump: "The price of your gas: $40. The amount the honchos at OPEC just made: $1 BILLION dollars. Katharine McPhee dropping her credit card on our oily ground and reaching over to pick it up for gawkers: Priceless....and 50 cents, please, for the disinfectant wipes..."
Man to left: "Say what? You've never heard of the new James Brown-inspired cape that we wrap around someone who just nailed the National Anthem? Well, sure, we just got it on backwards...and it's only a wool blanket--but you got da soul, sista--so start weeping now so we can whisk you away off stage!"
Woman to right: "Hi, Kat. I'm the person you've always wanted to see: The person who knows how to fix your earpiece so it works right. The secret? Attach it inside your hair as an anchor so your hair doesn't get a Hurricane Hair moment during the final high notes..."