Tag: carnal desire

#EatDrinkDesire part 2: The Edinburgh Fringe Festival

We already filled you in on part one of our trip: My birthday experience in London. Now it’s time to tell you about Edinburgh — the trip you helped make possible. Here the Mike and Megan oral history of Carnal Desire at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival!

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Mike: We arrived in the center of Edinburgh and walked to the Carnal Desire Team’s Scotland Street flat. One of two that we rented for our actors. It was a fairly nice place: big rooms, high ceilings, great location, and huge windows with views of gorgeous church steeples and green trees.

our-street-in-scotland

Only problem: there was a single bathroom for six people. And… ONE towel.

Megan: Here’s Mike: “I think we’re just going to nap and take showers.” Here’s Kinkaid: “I’ll see if the towel is dry.” THE TOWEL.

Mike: When Megan and I heard that, our eyes went wide. We decided to head out towel-shopping immediately. Which gave us an excuse to explore the neighborhood. The scavenger hunt ended at Primark (basically: Target), and we headed back to nap and shower.

After catching up on the various trials and tribulations of the show, we headed for dinner at the Printing Press Bar and Grill, where we enjoyed some gastropub fare that pleased Megan to no end. She may love all things UK, but she definitely prefers (quality) pub grub to the local gourmet fare.

Megan: I wouldn’t even say it has to be quality. Is it well-done meat in some kind of Guinness-related stew? Are there “chips” involved? I’m a happy girl.

Mike: Does the waiter have a British accent? Megan will not notice the fact that she’s been shivering for the last two hours, the trash outside, or the fact that we’ve been eating the same meal again and again.

Megan: Our daily routines were pretty much determined by rain. Summer weather in Scotland means that it was generally miserable out — raining off and on for the whole trip. So during the day, Mike and I would try to walk as much as possible — grabbing food, and finding cafes to grab wifi. But mostly we’d work inside the awesome flat we rented.

Mike: Average number of miles we walk a day: 11. Average number of floors: 95. Which slightly mitigates the unhealthy Scottish meals and endless pints of beer. We explored all corners of the city, from the chaos of the Royal Mile to quiet Stockbridge.

Megan: My favorite of which was hiking up Arthur’s Seat, but I also enjoyed touring the castle, and buying my very first proper rain jacket. (There’s not much need for them in LA.)

And then, perfectly timed with my new rain jacket, we had an awesome experience of getting caught in a very heavy rainstorm and running into a bar where we had “no choice” but to sip yummy Old Fashioneds, as we watch the rain ABSOLUTELY POUR outside.

drinks-in-a-storm

Mike: Our nightly routine was grabbing dinner at some fun restaurant. Then grabbing drinks while the cast went flyering in courtyard. Which may or may not have helped attendance.

Us in the Pleasance Courtyard

Us in the Pleasance Courtyard

Megan: Then we’d head into the Pleasance Above, to our theater space, which was WAY too big for the most common nightly attendance of our show. (It seated 100+ and we would generally pull in 30 or so on a good night.)

Which bring us too…

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#EatDrinkDesire Part 1: The birthday trip to London

Hey hey! I’m here! I’m sorry I’ve abandoned personal writing in public since I took off to Edinburgh — for the trip you helped make possible. I’ll have a full report. But here’s what Mike and I managed to write down about the first part of that trip. This is our oral history of my 35th birthday trip to London!

trip-to-london

Megan: Somewhere between LA and London, hovering between 34 and 35-years-old, as most of the plane slept, a flight attendant noticed that I was awake and excited told me to run up past first class (“tell ’em Selina sent you”) and look out the window to see the Northern Lights.

With my heart pounding, I raced past the un-aware passengers, blew through curtains, avoided the feet of the lay-flat first class, and pressed my face up against the tiny window in an emergency exit door. Sure enough, there they were: Pale and bright green lights, shimmering in the sky.

Northern Lights

Kind of like this, but imagine the trees and water as clouds. (Photo by CC BY 2.0

I debated not waking up Mike for a second — boy needs his sleep — but then I was like, “I’d murder him if he kept this from me.” So I rushed back and shook him awake, “You need to get up right now and come with me to see the Northern Lights.” He was up in a flash and rushing back to the tiny window with me.

It was the first (and maybe only) time we’ve seen them. And I cried from happiness, and relief, and full-body-tingling awe, as we watched the towering green lights dancing above the clouds.

I thanked Selina, the flight attendant, for the incredible birthday present, and she poured us two glasses of champagne (I drank them both of course). I believe the moment I turned 35, I was standing above the northern hemisphere, glass of champagne in one hand, Mike’s hand in my other, the aurora borealis shining behind me, and the rest of my life, looking just as bright and wondrous, in front of me.

After that excitement, and a few more glasses of champagne, I slept surprisingly soundly. I can’t say the same for Mike.

I was still riding the Northern Lights high as we deplaned and zoomed through customs (as much as you can zoom while standing in a long queue). I got a “happy birthday” from the customs agent, we snagged our bags, and were off to Mike’s college friend Pete’s flat in Richmond, with a cab driver that managed to annoy us with his personality as well as the fact that he took speed bumps like he was trying to launch his black cab to the moon.

Pete and his place. You can see some of the cool sky lights in the kitchen from the angle!

Pete and his place. You can see some of the cool sky lights in the kitchen from this angle!

Pete’s flat was charming and not without its quirks — steep staircases, tiny hallways, and… creative access points to let light in (aka. a terrifying grate in the bedroom floor!?). Since his sister, Soph, was in town, and his son, Leo, was staying with him the next day, we were given a blow up mattress in his office, and was told that it may have a slow leak. Although, to our delight, he assured us that he ran his moist face over every inch of the mattress and couldn’t find/feel a leak. But, at 4am the next morning — when we found ourselves practically sleeping on the hardwood floor with air mattress all around us — we had, indeed, confirmed a leak.

Mike: The taco bed!!

Megan: Anyway… around noon, after a quick pub lunch in the garden (they have gardens and children’s playgrounds in the bars in England!), and a birthday Guinness for me, that blowup mattress in a cramped space looked and felt like absolute heaven as we napped.

tactical-nap

Then it was up and time to rapidly get dressed all fancy-like for my Special Michelin-Starred Birthday Dinner in London. But first… busses, and trains, and subway rides galore, as we wound our way from Richmond into my favorite city in the world.

Mike: Two Michelin stars!

Harrod's in the background!

Harrod’s in the background!

Megan: Once properly ensconced in the city — Harrod’s to the left of us, “the most expensive condo in the world” to our right, and crowds, double-decker busses, and useless red phone booths all around us — we blindly followed Pete around, wildly guessing at which direction the restaurant was.

We eventually found it, but not before Mike and I squabbled about whether or not I was going to be hit by that bus. (I think I was totally safe.)

Mike: Megan is still alive, thanks to me.

Mike, Megan, and Pete looking all fancy and shit.

Mike, Megan, and Pete looking all fancy and shit.

Megan: Dinner was such a freaking treat! First of all, it was in a super-nice hotel. Our table had a gorgeous view of the trees in the park next door. And everyone was so very posh and British. I was in proper English heaven. Adolescent Megan, who dreamed of eating fancy meals in London, was just squirming with delight. Okay, Adult Megan was doing the same thing. Although as good as the food was, it wasn’t my favorite…

dinner-by-heston-menu

Everything was a bit challenging for me, and I still feel bad that I ate and hated that frog leg, knowing now that Pete would have loved it… as he loved ALL the things.

dinner-by-heston-blumenthal

Our starters of “meat fruit,” “rice and flesh,” and savory porridge with frog legs.

Pete’s pure enjoyment of the food was one of my favorite parts of the meal. Well, that and the meat fruit (chicken liver paté that looked EXACTLY like a tangerine from the outside. Except, surprise! It’s meat inside. Apparently it’s an OLD British practical joke, and now an inside joke, as it supplied endless conversations, between the three of us, about our German metal band called “Meat Früt.”). I also loved the little portable liquid nitrogen ice cream cart they push around the restaurant.

After dinner we walked to the original Soho House, in fucking Soho! It was awesome — very different from LA’s. It was an old sprawling brownstone-type building, with tons of tiny little drawing rooms filled with tables, or couches and cozy chairs, or small bars. But, due to all the quaint tiny spaces, it was crowded beyond comfortable. So we sweated profusely as we waited for our drinks (once again Pete reminded me of the joys of the espresso martini when you’re starting to really feel the late hours and previous cocktails catch up to you) and then journeyed downstairs to sit at their lovely (but small) outdoor patio. So small that we were forced to share a table for a while with Tobias Menzies (of Outlander and Game of Thrones fame!!!). Of course, I didn’t realize it was him, until we were happily seated at our own table a couple of steps away. But another unexpected birthday sighting to close the night? I’ll take it!

Mike and Pete on the bridge.

Mike and Pete on the bridge.

We ended the evening with a late-night stroll around London. We checked out statues and took selfies on bridges… until Pete remembered that he’d left his cell phone back at Soho House. So we Black Cab-ed back to Soho House and then all the way back to Pete’s, where we crashed on our Leaking Air Mattress Taco Bed.

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The next day we ate a breakfast of avocado toast and tea in Pete’s sunny shared garden space, and worked out our plans which included drinks, walks, and the thing that I think I loved the most on this trip…

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I, technically, became a soft-core porn producer (and I need your help)

Action figure Mike and Megan, from this very accurate re-enactment.

Action figure Mike and Megan, from this very accurate re-enactment.

The other day my ex-husband introduced me to a couple people we just met as such: “This is Megan, she produces soft-core porn.” After I got over my shock, I realized… he’s not exactly wrong!

More exciting to me than planning a wedding right now, is helping to planning the first International production of Carnal Desire.

For those of you haven’t heard me gush about it before, here’s the description from David Fickas — the lead actor/producer/guy who introduced me to my future husband…

In the year 2000, Mike Horowitz (under the nom de porn, “Philip S. Wilson”) penned two ironic scripts for a late-night cable “Skinemax” lineup. The first was for the show Kama Sutra which, being completely oblivious to irony, actually approved, produced and aired the episode on television. The second was for a different program entitled Lady Chatterly’s Stories. Unfortunately for audiences everywhere, the producers began to realize they were being punked, and the script was deemed too ridiculous to make. These two masterpieces sat, untouched, for over a decade before Mike’s fiancee Megan Finley convinced him to give them the tribute they truly deserve. This was the birth of Carnal Desire: The Collected Works of Philip S. Wilson.

Sometimes I wonder, when a twenty-something Mike was entertaining himself by writing those scripts, did he ever imagine that it would make the girl he was dating fall utterly and undeniably in love with him? Hell, 16 years later, did he ever think they would be turned into A FULL-FLEDGED COMEDY SHOW AT THE EDINBURGH FRINGE FESTIVAL!???

I had never heard of this festival before (because, I had abandoned my dreams of being actress right after high school), but basically, The Edinburgh Fringe is the world’s largest alternative arts festival. It’s huge. It’s amazing. And having a production that I somehow inspired, that I get to help produce, and that could potentially inspire more generations of Trojans to perform their passion projects, is just unbelievable to me.

So why am I all up in your grill about it again? Because I need your help, in a couple of ways, to make Carnal Desire a success…

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Help me watch my favorite porn, in Scotland, on my birthday!



CarnalDesire_romnovel_zz5xpi

There’s only ONE THING I want for my birthday this year, and I’d love it if you could help group-gift said thing to me…

Remember when I discovered that my boyfriend Mike wrote a real life episode of soft core porn? Remember when I read that very real soft core porn script, and laughed so hard that I both cried and fell in love with him at the same time? Remember when I kind of inspired that very real soft core porn to become a very real theater production of soft core porn — Carnal Desire: The Collected Works of Philip S. Wilson?

All that really happened!

And then something even more amazing happened…

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Celebrating my love of insane TV in the Black Milk Stay Tuned skirt

black milk color bar skirt

The moment I saw the Black Milk Stay Tuned skirt I knew I had to have it. I didn’t know where or when the hell I’d wear it (probably a convention). But I’m such a huge TV nerd that this limited edition piece just had to be mine.

Then it just hung there — being the lone rainbow in the sea of black, grey, and dragon leggings that is my closet — until I was invited to (okay, maybe possibly had some hand in inspiring) “Carnal Desire, the collected works of Philip S Wilson.” It was a live reading of the most hilariously unsexy “skinemax” scripts ever written, and it was one of the best things that I’ve ever had happen in front of my face. (More on that amazingness over here.)

This is what a soft core erotica reading looks like. Sexy, huh?

This is what a soft core erotica reading looks like. Sexy, huh?

I mean… what better way to celebrate your love of insane soft core TV than with this outfit:

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