this is all very new to me...

I don't know what's happening. I constantly feel dizzy and nauseated. I scheduled a doctor's appointment, but he says all of my tests came back fine.

(but seriously America, know your HIV status. Protect yourselves and the ones you love.)

So what could it be? I've given up dairy and increased my fiber intake, but for some reason I can't seem to shake the butterflies in my stomach...

Oh no...that's it...butterflies...can it BE?!

HAVE I FALLEN FOR DAYTON!?

A slew of craft beers at $4, $3.50 well drinks, unlimited bowling, and $7 CHIPOTLE?!

I mean, I can stumble the one block home from bars. I've even made friends with the town drag queens and am already gaining "regular" status at only the trendiest of coffee shops.

And there's NOTHING I love more than being KNOWN.

There's even a place where you can make your own sushi. I'd say it's pretty authentic except it's made by hipsters...but for $6 I will bow to those lip-ringed hooligans like my personal senseis.

So here I am driving around in my company-provided gold minivan with the windows down like I just dropped the kids off at soccer and Mama needs a drink. The fresh(ish) Ohio breeze blowing in my newly highlighted hair and my venti iced coffee with the perfect soy topper tell me

THIS is love.

Now get me the F*CK out.

The lowest calorie iced coffee in the world couldn't salvage this city,

TJB: Making It

EXTRA! EXTRA!

On my fridge (and I mean my proverbial fridge since I don't actually have a fridge of my own) I keep a checklist. My "MAKING IT" checklist to document my rise to stardom. Near the top of that checklist?

MAKE THE NEWS.

Now, many of you probably get your news from CNN or the New York Times.

Those of us in the industry...THE industry...get our news where it's real...raw...uncensored.

Playbill.com

Ok, to be honest, most of us get our news from our Facebook newsfeed (how the HELL did we know what was happening before 2006?!)

But Playbill.com is where people become somebody and it's announced it to the world.

Well TODAY world...I became somebody.

Sure you have to scroll down the page to find the article, and even then you have to read slowly or you'll skim over the glorious announcement of my casting...

But it's there. The world knows it's there. Better yet

THE industry knows it's there.

So get used to it America, because from this point on, you're going to be reading this name a lot. 

AND ONE DAY, IT TOO SHALL BE A BLUE HYPERLINK!

Read the article HERE!

My mom tried to send me a Billabong shirt,

TJB: Making It

welcome to my home

The greatest thing about leaving NYC to do a regional show is that housing is paid for.

Not paying rent is the best thing that's happened to me since not booking RENT.

My roommate and I thought we were in for a treat when we learned about the shooting just down the block...

...but then we got to know our neighbors...

Have we met our neighbors? NO. But, thanks to paper-thin walls and some very VERY resonant voices (along with two raging tempers) we've gathered some information about the colorful pair next door.

Things we know: There are two of them.

Things we know about roommate #1:
1. She is a girl.
2. She has the front bedroom.
3. Her boyfriend's name is either Wayne or Myron
4. She calls him every day to break up.
5. She is upset he won't change his relationship status on Facebook.
6. She likes make-up sex.

Things we know about roommate #2:
1. NOT the gender (strong cases to be made for both given vocal range and sexual position preferences).
2. A man is involved.
3. They too love make-up sex.
4. Knows all the words to DJ Drama's "Ain't No Way Around It" (take a listen...)
5. A dog with extreme separation anxiety is involved.
6. The dog needs a bigger cage but the man refuses to purchase it.
7. Roommate is angry the man will not pick the dog up and take it to get proper shots at vet.
8. Favorite phrases include "Aww HELL NO" and "F*CK that sh*t!"
9. Don't answer the phone if this roommate calls you. Only yelling will ensue.

Our hearts reach out to them in their endless emotional turmoil. We have questioned many times how to help the situation.

And then we realized we haven't had to turn our television on once because we are LIVING the best reality TV you could hope for.

KEEP ON FIGHTING LADIES!!...um...LADY AND GENT!!...

Until it stops, we rival their battle cries with the booming marches of BAND GEEKS.

Dayton is decidedly NOT for lovers,

TJB: Making It

a star is rising

The great thing about working on a new musical is that you get to interact with the writers and be a part of the developmental process.

And by that I mean

The great thing about working on a new musical is that you get to interact with the writers who are more than willing to increase the size of your character.

If you're me.

Because who DOESN'T want more one-liners from the sassy gay kid?

This guy does.

America does.

Because if we all had more one-liners from sassy gay kids,

the world would be a better place.

Come see BAND GEEKS starring ME...the sassy gay kid.

That brings my line count up to 12,

TJB: Making It

boys who like boys who like girls

If you're a true fan of me (or if you're my mother who still reads this only because she's hoping I'll announce my engagement to a famous actress because all I needed was "the right SUCCESSFUL girl")...sorry I got off track...

If you're a true fan of me, you'll remember how I feel about actors. So, I always had a simple process for how to make friends and survive the process of a musical:

1. Find the prettiest girl in the cast (in relation to her talent)
2. Befriend her immediately
3. Make sure everyone knows the two of you RUN SHIT

The process was flawless in college where a hierarchy of beauty and talent had been set in place prior to the first day of rehearsal, and my last cast only had one girl in it so she won by default...

The professional...excuse me...the "professional" world is proving to be much tougher than I had anticipated.

Yes, it does seem that I was handed a rare gem when pretty-girl-whose-name-I-can't-remember-because-I-keep-calling-her-pretty-girl seemed to be the easy choice

but my gay roommate snagged her like a marked down Marc Jacobs bag.

So I had to walk into the first day of rehearsal ALONE.

HOW EMBARRASSING.

Luckily, we started with shoe fittings, so I could hide my loneliness in the comforting laces of new footwear.

And just as I turned to toss a pair of hideous green slip-ons into the "NO WAY NEVER" pile I had started, I saw her...

She was blonde. She was fit. She was beautiful.

She was mine.

I made a few awkward jokes to break the ice and noticed her baton.

Baton?! Is this her? Is this Nicole?! Is this the vision that plays my best friend in the show?!

IT WAS FATE.

I sat my script and score on the stand next to hers and sank down into...well a hard ass metal chair, but I didn't care because I had found my best friend.

And things didn't stop there. While the two of us sat flipping our blonde locks in our self-made winds of beauty, a tall and chiseled brunette boy sat to my left. I was speechless. He was the lead of the show, Jake, and hence

my new SHOWMANCE.

I couldn't WAIT to tell Nicole that I was practically engaged and she would of course be my maid of honor since she was there the first time I met my husband

until I picked up on something strange...

Me: Oh...do you two know each other?
Nicole: We went to school together.
Me: Oh...and now she lives in New York so...were you friends in school?
Jake: Well...sort of...she's staying at my apartment.
Me: Oh...so you're friends now?
Nicole: Well...sort of...
Me: (awkwardly laughing) Haha WHAT did you two DATE or something I'm SO confused...

Nicole: We're dating now.

They're dating...now...

and that's the story of how Nicole became my EX BFF.

Nobody steals my man.

I really need to get out of Ohio,

TJB: Making It

home is where the heart is SHOT

I just spent a few days back at Northwestern University doing what I do best

wishing I was in college again.

I had this weird experience of being torn between my adult friends with their adult jobs and adult schedules and adult relationships

juxtaposed against

my college friends with their college parties and college problems and college "relationships"

and I realized once again:

The "real world" is just a bunch of people who are angry college is over.

I'm one of them.

Although when my week of paradise ended today and I boarded my puddle-jumper airplane to Dayton, Ohio where I will spend the next two months dancing, singing, and playing the trombone while saying sassy one-liners

I began to question if there even IS a "real world"...at least one that I'll ever be a part of...

Fast forward to meeting my cast members where I'm reminded my first impressions are always made questionably.

Me: Hi, I'm Tyler.
Girl: Nice to meet you.
Me: You're like...REALLY pretty...

and I don't even remember if there was a retort because suddenly I was Regina George circa 2004 and had luckily just paused my computer speakers from blasting "Call Me Maybe" for the 15th time in a row.

Still, somehow I managed to target myself as "THAT guy" once again.

 But I was set up! My roommate and pretty-girl-whose-name-I-can't-remember-because-I-keep-calling-her-pretty-girl had flown here together and spent hours getting to know each other before they burst in on me in the midst of a Carly Rae Jepsen dance session with their chummy smiles and unexpected good looks...

A SET UP I TELL YOU!

But they invited me to Trader Joe's anyway...which is when I began to question if anybody was going to share my addiction for take-out and delivery which spurred my panick attack of THERE IS NO SEAMLESS.COM IN DAYTON, OHIO!

 So I bought groceries...Well, I bought "groceries" because I think I ended up with bananas and mustard...and a case of Diet Coke so...you know...the essentials...

and then as I tried to make conversation on the drive:

Me: So, that bar that's downstairs of our apartment building? They pointed to it on my drive here and said not to go there. Said it was sketchy. I thought they meant college-kids-tryna-sketchy and got excited, but I guess it's like townies-sketchy and was told to never go in there...I wonder why.
Pretty Girl: Yeah, I researched this area and found out someone got shot there a couple of months ago.

Welcome home TJB...welcome home...

Sing me out Carly Rae,

TJB: Making It

Parks, Plays, and Pulitzers

There is nothing like a Broadway opening night to make you feel like a celebrity.

There is also nothing like a Broadway opening night to make you feel like a nobody.

I'll be straight up with you America and let you know that I do not have the hookup...my friends do. So when one of my favorite partners-in-crime MRudd asked to reunite at the opening of Clybourne Park, I was ON IT.

As you'll remember, I rarely have a pair of shoes with attached soles, so the first thing I did was buy a new pair of bright blue Converse.

Because I'm THAT guy.

When I approached the crowd outside of the theater, I waited down the block to avoid further feelings of inferiority. Since I had zero text messages or e-mails to answer (remember I'm NOBODY), I tapped my fingers on the home screen of my iPhone 4S for 15 minutes and furrowed my brow.

I could hear what sounded like an enthusiastic conversation behind me, and since I wasn't actually focusing on anything I decided to eavesdrop. Turns out, the conversation was actually pretty boring until I heard

"Charles, you know Michael Greif. Michael, this is Charles."

OH SHIT, CHARLES! THAT'S MICHAEL GREIF!

I froze. Three feet away with me was my most recent job rejection and I was left facing a brick wall like an idiot until he walked away

because I would rather look like an idiot facing a brick wall than look like an idiot that Michael Greif doesn't recognize from that time I pretended to be a drumming tranny.

TRANNY.

Still, practically licking a brick wall wouldn't be the most awkward moment of my night.

 As I sat in seats I was less than undeserving of, I caught the eye of a producer across the theater. I had been recently introduced to him and he's FAR to kind to entertain me in conversation. As he came over to say hello, I panicked for conversation topics. I knew NOTHING about the play except that my friend had mentioned it in relation to the Pulitzer.

...a prize I used to confuse with the Newbery Medal...

The second his Prada suit and D&G tie got within earshot, I began to word vomit!

Me: "HEY!!! Are you SO EXCITED?!?! HOPING FOR THE TONY??!! I HEAR THERE'S EVEN TALK IT COULD WITH THE PULITZER!!"

Producer: "Well...it won the Pulitzer last year so...let's hope for the Tony."

I choked. Gallons of sweat and hairspray practically began pouring down my already glowing high cheekbones as I imagined Elaine Stritch could even hear my blunder from the 3rd row as she let out her raspy cackle.

Me: "Oh...how about that...WHOW I SHOULD toTtaLy Use The BATHroOm HoW LonG is this THINg DonT waNt To WAIt tIL InterMisSiON!!! BYE!"

I sat my ass back into my seat with MRudd laughing at me until the house lights dimmed.

The play was, of course, deserving of its Pulitzer Prize and probably even the Newbery Medal, but all I needed was the open bar.

So we strutted down Broadway to the beautiful Gotham banquet hall and ordered drinks like we were SOMEBODY.

and when you're TJB and MRudd, you realize you are EVERYBODY.

STEP and REPEAT.

I hope I'm blonde forever,

TJB: Making It