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| via marc johns, who is the best |
This inspires me today.
17 October 2012
02 October 2012
i miss my sanguine eyes
I am 26 years old. I was going to write on my birthday as I have in the past, but I haven't felt like myself lately. That word-- lately-- is relative. To be more specific, I haven't really felt like myself for the last 18 months or so. I have had glimpses of myself that remind me who I am-- remind me who I want to be, and what it is to feel happy, centered, and whole.
That week last summer after I recovered from the sinus infection of doom, so blissful and performing in a ridiculously fun role and grateful to know what it is to be grateful...
Christmas morning, with all my handmade Christmas presents...
That performance of Crazy for You in the middle of the run when I could have kept tap dancing for 20 minutes. And that other performance of Crazy for You when I realized the good things about me that would be great on television...
When I had lost 3" from my waist and dyed my hair blonde and marched around Boston, MA with Ames and my parents, looking at all the historical things I love about America and laughing about our kitty Jenna...
Little flecks of memory that flash by and I can take a deep breath and just be for a second.
All at once, though, I've felt so sad, like I'm losing parts of myself. Maybe it's getting older, maybe it's becoming more hardened to "life," maybe it's feeling like I "should be" doing/creating/being much more than I am. I laugh a lot, but not the same. I don't feel so smart as I maybe used to be. I actually care about my shrunken bank account.
I don't listen to music anymore.
I used to listen to music constantly. I used to love finding new bands, learning the words to entire Rocket Summer albums, going to concerns, falling asleep with Jared Leto in my ears, allowing my heart to soar with film scores. Music is spiritual and it speaks to me.
I think my spirit has just been too jumbled and exhausted to be exercised by music.
Music has become much more technical. I practice singing. I study voices and technique and vocal tricks. I buy albums of artists I love because they're by artist I have loved. Anything more requires too much investment, too much freedom, too much vulnerability.
This morning I finally got around to having a listen to Mumford & Sons' Babel. So much hype was a turn-off for me. My brain and heart can't seem to handle so much texture in music-- I need clean, simple sounds that kind of disappear behind more pressing matters like procedure manuals and timecards. No time or energy to spend time on something new and different and exciting.
So unexpectedly, my soul was tired enough to be stirred.
In the midst of questioning (yet again) my professional ambitions; weighing my educational, financial, and work responsibilities; throwing myself into the most deeply emotional role I've ever played; trying to keep it all together and become centered-- I felt awake.
And happy.
And relieved.
I think sometimes we are able to embrace our own best potential when we maybe just have no other choice. I need this level of spiritual wellness. It is vital to me. How have I forgotten it?
I'm starving for music, new or old. What are some of your favorites? All suggestions welcome.
That week last summer after I recovered from the sinus infection of doom, so blissful and performing in a ridiculously fun role and grateful to know what it is to be grateful...
Christmas morning, with all my handmade Christmas presents...
That performance of Crazy for You in the middle of the run when I could have kept tap dancing for 20 minutes. And that other performance of Crazy for You when I realized the good things about me that would be great on television...
When I had lost 3" from my waist and dyed my hair blonde and marched around Boston, MA with Ames and my parents, looking at all the historical things I love about America and laughing about our kitty Jenna...
Little flecks of memory that flash by and I can take a deep breath and just be for a second.
All at once, though, I've felt so sad, like I'm losing parts of myself. Maybe it's getting older, maybe it's becoming more hardened to "life," maybe it's feeling like I "should be" doing/creating/being much more than I am. I laugh a lot, but not the same. I don't feel so smart as I maybe used to be. I actually care about my shrunken bank account.
I don't listen to music anymore.
I used to listen to music constantly. I used to love finding new bands, learning the words to entire Rocket Summer albums, going to concerns, falling asleep with Jared Leto in my ears, allowing my heart to soar with film scores. Music is spiritual and it speaks to me.
I think my spirit has just been too jumbled and exhausted to be exercised by music.
Music has become much more technical. I practice singing. I study voices and technique and vocal tricks. I buy albums of artists I love because they're by artist I have loved. Anything more requires too much investment, too much freedom, too much vulnerability.
This morning I finally got around to having a listen to Mumford & Sons' Babel. So much hype was a turn-off for me. My brain and heart can't seem to handle so much texture in music-- I need clean, simple sounds that kind of disappear behind more pressing matters like procedure manuals and timecards. No time or energy to spend time on something new and different and exciting.
So unexpectedly, my soul was tired enough to be stirred.
In the midst of questioning (yet again) my professional ambitions; weighing my educational, financial, and work responsibilities; throwing myself into the most deeply emotional role I've ever played; trying to keep it all together and become centered-- I felt awake.
And happy.
And relieved.
I think sometimes we are able to embrace our own best potential when we maybe just have no other choice. I need this level of spiritual wellness. It is vital to me. How have I forgotten it?
I'm starving for music, new or old. What are some of your favorites? All suggestions welcome.
04 September 2012
living
This summer I did a few great things--
I tap danced.
I ate a lot.
I lost weight without even trying.
I cut my hair off and dyed it blonde and it's longer on the right side than on the left.
I flew back East for ten days and saw my family and swam in the lake.
I went to Boston and ate a salt bagel.
I touched the desk where Lousia May Alcott wrote Little Women.
I snuggled my kitties and laughed for hours and hours about them.
I was cast in a Big Important Role that somehow feels bigger and more important than other roles I've had.
I finally bought the green bathing suit I've been wanting for three years and a big floppy dock hat.
We secured a way to go to Europe next summer for a month.
In some ways it felt like I didn't even have a summer because I never stopped moving long enough to take it in and appreciate all the changes and growths and opportunities.
I am a lucky girl.
I tap danced.
I ate a lot.
I lost weight without even trying.
I cut my hair off and dyed it blonde and it's longer on the right side than on the left.
I flew back East for ten days and saw my family and swam in the lake.
I went to Boston and ate a salt bagel.
I touched the desk where Lousia May Alcott wrote Little Women.
I snuggled my kitties and laughed for hours and hours about them.
I was cast in a Big Important Role that somehow feels bigger and more important than other roles I've had.
I finally bought the green bathing suit I've been wanting for three years and a big floppy dock hat.
We secured a way to go to Europe next summer for a month.
In some ways it felt like I didn't even have a summer because I never stopped moving long enough to take it in and appreciate all the changes and growths and opportunities.
I am a lucky girl.
17 August 2012
revised repost
I don't like to be told I'm wrong. I don't think many people like to feel
belittled or stupid or ignorant or made to feel like their opinions, because
they are not "popular" or whatever, are wrong.
As we're approaching the Big Day where this country will collectively participate in a political spring cleaning, there's more "discussion" than ever, and I'm all for discussion-- as long as it's remains a discussion.
DISCUSSION: consideration of a question in open and usually informal debate.(thank you merriam-webster.com)
I'll be honest, while I do not consider myself a staunch Republican, I do consider myself moderately conservative, which means my views tend to swing toward the right. I do my best to consider platforms, social issues, figure out my place within this crazy mess, then vote accordingly.
What this means is I sometimes end up on the "wrong side" of social and political issues from my friends and family. That's ok with me, since I think it's terribly interesting to learn and try to better understand differing views. Unfortunately the sad truth is that social/political/religious/etc opinions (1. a view, judgement or appraisal formed in the mind about a particular matter. 2. a belief stronger than impression and less strong than positive knowledge) tend to be up for disagreement or disapproval but not open for DISCUSSION. We are reduced to a sarcastic battle fo wits, name-calling and finger-pointing. There is not a lot of openness involved.
Recently, a link was posted on Facebook by someone I know, supposedly with the intent to "open the discussion" about universal healthcare and not intended at all to sway votes or opinions. Firstly, what else could her intention have been other than to sway opinions? I should hope that an open DISCUSSION should absolutely aim to encourage participants to re-evaluate their stances, the outcome being a better understanding of the opposing view at very least. Though she may not have opened the conversation with a declaration, "This is what I think and I want to share it" or even "Anyone who doesn't agree with me is wrong," the implication is there, and that is great.
But secondly, I have found that the following conversation has been anything but open, since opposing views have given their arguments only to be told that they are, in so many words, WRONG. So in other words, this conversation is not being opened, but absolutely closed. Apparently, universal healthcare is a closed issue and therefore not a DISCUSSION at all, and those who might disagree are misinformed, ignorant, and unconstitutional, letting their unpopular political or social beliefs get in the way of what's "fair."
Of course, then there's the swirling vortex of topics relating to Mitt Romney and the LDS church, gay marriage and the LDS church, economics and the LDS church, etc. etc. etc. Of course, being LDS myself, my political and social beliefs are influenced by my religious convictions. That being said, my religious convictions are also influenced by my political and social beliefs. The two are definitely inseparable, but absolutely not mutually exclusive. Any actual DISCUSSION of these things would reveal that pretty quickly and plainly. And the implication that I am misinformed, ignorant, brain-washed and unconstitutional really entices me to participate in any public forum of this nature...
Some tips for liberals who might hope to "discuss" with us crazy backwards conservatives who may or may not also be religious:
1. We tend to be as firmly planted in our beliefs as you are in yours.
2. Just because we are conservative does not mean we are ignorant. We earnestly believe in our conservative views as you do in your liberal. It is not a lack of information or "forward thinking" that landed us here.
3. Do not site or twist the words of spiritual leaders or literature in order to support your claims that will make spiritually-influenced political opinions hypocritical. It only leads to a more convoluted circle.
4. Sarcasm is unattractive. I'm really grappling to find any humor in this most serious situation, and sarcastically making fun of our beliefs- and therefore, of us, to our faces- will not spark a very open DISCUSSION.
5. The old adage may just hold true: don't discuss politics or religion among friends. There will never be black-and-white answers, exchanges of well-informed (from either perspective) opinion will never result in an absolute change-of-heart.
I hope we're all as well-informed as we can be in our political and religious (or unreligious) beliefs. I hope that we have each studied platforms thoroughly and have formed decisions for ourselves so that our votes will reflect what we believe will prove the best course for this country. I know this is what I have aimed to do, and I sincerely hope that those with differing views (especially those who know me well, regardless of their own political stances) will give some credit to my own informed opinions.
As we're approaching the Big Day where this country will collectively participate in a political spring cleaning, there's more "discussion" than ever, and I'm all for discussion-- as long as it's remains a discussion.
DISCUSSION: consideration of a question in open and usually informal debate.(thank you merriam-webster.com)
I'll be honest, while I do not consider myself a staunch Republican, I do consider myself moderately conservative, which means my views tend to swing toward the right. I do my best to consider platforms, social issues, figure out my place within this crazy mess, then vote accordingly.
What this means is I sometimes end up on the "wrong side" of social and political issues from my friends and family. That's ok with me, since I think it's terribly interesting to learn and try to better understand differing views. Unfortunately the sad truth is that social/political/religious/etc opinions (1. a view, judgement or appraisal formed in the mind about a particular matter. 2. a belief stronger than impression and less strong than positive knowledge) tend to be up for disagreement or disapproval but not open for DISCUSSION. We are reduced to a sarcastic battle fo wits, name-calling and finger-pointing. There is not a lot of openness involved.
Recently, a link was posted on Facebook by someone I know, supposedly with the intent to "open the discussion" about universal healthcare and not intended at all to sway votes or opinions. Firstly, what else could her intention have been other than to sway opinions? I should hope that an open DISCUSSION should absolutely aim to encourage participants to re-evaluate their stances, the outcome being a better understanding of the opposing view at very least. Though she may not have opened the conversation with a declaration, "This is what I think and I want to share it" or even "Anyone who doesn't agree with me is wrong," the implication is there, and that is great.
But secondly, I have found that the following conversation has been anything but open, since opposing views have given their arguments only to be told that they are, in so many words, WRONG. So in other words, this conversation is not being opened, but absolutely closed. Apparently, universal healthcare is a closed issue and therefore not a DISCUSSION at all, and those who might disagree are misinformed, ignorant, and unconstitutional, letting their unpopular political or social beliefs get in the way of what's "fair."
Of course, then there's the swirling vortex of topics relating to Mitt Romney and the LDS church, gay marriage and the LDS church, economics and the LDS church, etc. etc. etc. Of course, being LDS myself, my political and social beliefs are influenced by my religious convictions. That being said, my religious convictions are also influenced by my political and social beliefs. The two are definitely inseparable, but absolutely not mutually exclusive. Any actual DISCUSSION of these things would reveal that pretty quickly and plainly. And the implication that I am misinformed, ignorant, brain-washed and unconstitutional really entices me to participate in any public forum of this nature...
Some tips for liberals who might hope to "discuss" with us crazy backwards conservatives who may or may not also be religious:
1. We tend to be as firmly planted in our beliefs as you are in yours.
2. Just because we are conservative does not mean we are ignorant. We earnestly believe in our conservative views as you do in your liberal. It is not a lack of information or "forward thinking" that landed us here.
3. Do not site or twist the words of spiritual leaders or literature in order to support your claims that will make spiritually-influenced political opinions hypocritical. It only leads to a more convoluted circle.
4. Sarcasm is unattractive. I'm really grappling to find any humor in this most serious situation, and sarcastically making fun of our beliefs- and therefore, of us, to our faces- will not spark a very open DISCUSSION.
5. The old adage may just hold true: don't discuss politics or religion among friends. There will never be black-and-white answers, exchanges of well-informed (from either perspective) opinion will never result in an absolute change-of-heart.
I hope we're all as well-informed as we can be in our political and religious (or unreligious) beliefs. I hope that we have each studied platforms thoroughly and have formed decisions for ourselves so that our votes will reflect what we believe will prove the best course for this country. I know this is what I have aimed to do, and I sincerely hope that those with differing views (especially those who know me well, regardless of their own political stances) will give some credit to my own informed opinions.
16 August 2012
on being just the same as everybody else
I want to know-- what's the problem in blending in sometimes?
I've been stewing over a lot of thoughts lately because it feels to me like I've been bombarded with inspirational quotes lately to be unique! be yourself! Don't be afraid to be a unicorn! Always with these kinds of photos to draw your attention to something special and different.
The most exhausting to me has been the unicorn metaphor. It keeps popping up here and there, had a stint on Glee (network television's indulgent celebration of diversity and all things different), and it's driving me crazy. Unicorns, first of all, don't exist. They don't. Humans exist, and weird humans exist, and weird humans with weird differences from other humans exist, but unicorns are not a thing.
It's just that sometimes I feel like we don't really have the right to be the same.
I think so frequently in a quest to embrace and accept ourselves and each other, we start to focus too greatly on the fact that we are, in the end, all the same. We are human. We share life experience. We celebrate, we grieve, we have frustrations, we have foibles. We are not different. We are common. The specifics are all unique, but ultimately we are the same. I don't think that's bad.
Of course, for just as many mantras to be a unicorn, there are as many reminders that we are the same. We all deserve the same civil rights. We all deserve access to healthcare. We all deserve to love other humans. We deserve the right to individual expression.
So tell me-- if we all deserve these things (and others), why must it be so dreadfully and socially unacceptable to want just kind of normal things and to aspire to be kind of a nice, normal person?
Take, for example, Shanna, my favorite contestant from the most recent season of The Glee Project.
Now I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I hate Glee. Why would I watch a competition show where the whole point is to become the next Glee co-star? Because it's the greatest competition show ever, of course. Watch it and try to disagree with me.
Shanna has an INCREDIBLE voice and, from all accounts on the show, was incredibly easy to work with. She rarely had critiques and was consistently asked to do hard things-- you know, like wear a meat dress a la Lady Gaga for ten hours on a video shoot. No biggie, right? She was eliminated ultimately because she is normal.
When asked what kind of character she saw herself playing on Glee, she said she'd be "the athletic girl who can sing and joins everything." Apparently this wasn't a clear enough identity and GOOD BYE SHANNA.
This following Nellie, another wonderfully normal girl with a killer voice, who I found incredibly relatable exactly because she was so aware of who she is as herself-- which is not the sex kitten they tried over and over and over to force her to become, and when she crippled under the discomfort of that veneer, GOOD BYE NELLIE.
(Interestingly, in the final episode when all the contestants returned to be in the final music video, the editing of the show was such that Nellie and Shanna were conspicuously deflected.)
And if we're being honest, the show's winner Blake almost didn't win because he wasn't definable as anything but the nice, good-looking jock. In other words, he didn't have a gimmick that was interesting enough because the appeal of Glee is the vulnerability of people with quirks and differences worthy of being slushied. If I'm reading into the semantics correctly here, normal people apaprently aren't vulnerable.
What's interesting is that, while I recognize and have learned to celebrate my own unique qualities, the basic reality is that I am one of those Normals. I'm an average-sized girl of average height with naturally average brown hair. I fit social "norms" in that I'm attracted to men and I'm politically moderate. I have a wide range of interests and, while I'm pretty good at some things, am not necessarily a freakishly talented person. I have a lot of friends in a lot of different circles and don't especially identify with any one particular group or institution. In my own way, I am the girl who can sing and joins everything. And as a result, just like Shanna, many times, I am just not special enough to get the role, get the job, or find the right pants in my size.
I feel like that's majorly wrong. I feel like we're beginning to compare traits and characteristics that are incomparable, yet we become defensive about our weirdness and that my weirdness is so much weirder (read: better) than your weirdness. I deserve more attention than you for my extra weird weirdness. Only weird people need to be represented on TV because there isn't enough of this teeny tiny specific demographic represented in our popular culture. Forget about the fact that it actually might be kind of weird to be normal because normal is normal, not weird.
The truth is, I don't feel particularly represented in popular culture. "Normal" women on television (since I'm running with the Glee thing) are represented by characters like Grace on Will & Grace (gorgeous redhead who is eating all the time but remains thin and apparently has bad hygiene?), Liz Lemon on 30 Rock (head writer and producer of a successful comedy show who also eats all the time but remains thin and apparently has bad hygiene) and Jess on New Girl ("adorkable," gorgeous woman with a beautifully "unstylish" wardrobe who is also thin [can't say whether she eats all the time because I stopped watching]). So even the "normal" women on television aren't actually normal. None of them are below a size 6 (though they try to pass off Tina Fey as at least a size 8-- I'm NOT buying it) and i guess in order to be normal I'm not supposed to cut my toenails? I'm sorry to tell you, but not cutting your toenails is ACTUALLY weird, and also gross.
In discussing this topic with some friends recently, someone posed the question, "But would you watch a show about someone normal?"
Duh, I would-- which is why I'm excited for The Mindy Project this fall because while all signs point to this being a show about a smarter, Indian Jess from New Girl, at least she's a size 8 or 10 AND THAT IS TOTALLY NORMAL!
So I guess what I'm saying is, I don't want to be a unicorn. I don't want all my friends to be unicorns. I want us to be nice pretty horses who all run around together and eat carrots, and some of the horses can be unicorns, and some can be zebras, and some can be very small, and some can pull plows, and some can be the fastest racehorse of all time, but at the end of the day: we're all horses.
At the end of the day: we're all humans. We're all the same.
Let's try to concentrate a little harder on that.
I've been stewing over a lot of thoughts lately because it feels to me like I've been bombarded with inspirational quotes lately to be unique! be yourself! Don't be afraid to be a unicorn! Always with these kinds of photos to draw your attention to something special and different.
 |
| This makes zero sense to me. |
The most exhausting to me has been the unicorn metaphor. It keeps popping up here and there, had a stint on Glee (network television's indulgent celebration of diversity and all things different), and it's driving me crazy. Unicorns, first of all, don't exist. They don't. Humans exist, and weird humans exist, and weird humans with weird differences from other humans exist, but unicorns are not a thing.
It's just that sometimes I feel like we don't really have the right to be the same.
I think so frequently in a quest to embrace and accept ourselves and each other, we start to focus too greatly on the fact that we are, in the end, all the same. We are human. We share life experience. We celebrate, we grieve, we have frustrations, we have foibles. We are not different. We are common. The specifics are all unique, but ultimately we are the same. I don't think that's bad.
Of course, for just as many mantras to be a unicorn, there are as many reminders that we are the same. We all deserve the same civil rights. We all deserve access to healthcare. We all deserve to love other humans. We deserve the right to individual expression.
So tell me-- if we all deserve these things (and others), why must it be so dreadfully and socially unacceptable to want just kind of normal things and to aspire to be kind of a nice, normal person?
Take, for example, Shanna, my favorite contestant from the most recent season of The Glee Project.
Now I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I hate Glee. Why would I watch a competition show where the whole point is to become the next Glee co-star? Because it's the greatest competition show ever, of course. Watch it and try to disagree with me.
Shanna has an INCREDIBLE voice and, from all accounts on the show, was incredibly easy to work with. She rarely had critiques and was consistently asked to do hard things-- you know, like wear a meat dress a la Lady Gaga for ten hours on a video shoot. No biggie, right? She was eliminated ultimately because she is normal.
When asked what kind of character she saw herself playing on Glee, she said she'd be "the athletic girl who can sing and joins everything." Apparently this wasn't a clear enough identity and GOOD BYE SHANNA.
This following Nellie, another wonderfully normal girl with a killer voice, who I found incredibly relatable exactly because she was so aware of who she is as herself-- which is not the sex kitten they tried over and over and over to force her to become, and when she crippled under the discomfort of that veneer, GOOD BYE NELLIE.
(Interestingly, in the final episode when all the contestants returned to be in the final music video, the editing of the show was such that Nellie and Shanna were conspicuously deflected.)
And if we're being honest, the show's winner Blake almost didn't win because he wasn't definable as anything but the nice, good-looking jock. In other words, he didn't have a gimmick that was interesting enough because the appeal of Glee is the vulnerability of people with quirks and differences worthy of being slushied. If I'm reading into the semantics correctly here, normal people apaprently aren't vulnerable.
What's interesting is that, while I recognize and have learned to celebrate my own unique qualities, the basic reality is that I am one of those Normals. I'm an average-sized girl of average height with naturally average brown hair. I fit social "norms" in that I'm attracted to men and I'm politically moderate. I have a wide range of interests and, while I'm pretty good at some things, am not necessarily a freakishly talented person. I have a lot of friends in a lot of different circles and don't especially identify with any one particular group or institution. In my own way, I am the girl who can sing and joins everything. And as a result, just like Shanna, many times, I am just not special enough to get the role, get the job, or find the right pants in my size.
I feel like that's majorly wrong. I feel like we're beginning to compare traits and characteristics that are incomparable, yet we become defensive about our weirdness and that my weirdness is so much weirder (read: better) than your weirdness. I deserve more attention than you for my extra weird weirdness. Only weird people need to be represented on TV because there isn't enough of this teeny tiny specific demographic represented in our popular culture. Forget about the fact that it actually might be kind of weird to be normal because normal is normal, not weird.
The truth is, I don't feel particularly represented in popular culture. "Normal" women on television (since I'm running with the Glee thing) are represented by characters like Grace on Will & Grace (gorgeous redhead who is eating all the time but remains thin and apparently has bad hygiene?), Liz Lemon on 30 Rock (head writer and producer of a successful comedy show who also eats all the time but remains thin and apparently has bad hygiene) and Jess on New Girl ("adorkable," gorgeous woman with a beautifully "unstylish" wardrobe who is also thin [can't say whether she eats all the time because I stopped watching]). So even the "normal" women on television aren't actually normal. None of them are below a size 6 (though they try to pass off Tina Fey as at least a size 8-- I'm NOT buying it) and i guess in order to be normal I'm not supposed to cut my toenails? I'm sorry to tell you, but not cutting your toenails is ACTUALLY weird, and also gross.
In discussing this topic with some friends recently, someone posed the question, "But would you watch a show about someone normal?"
Duh, I would-- which is why I'm excited for The Mindy Project this fall because while all signs point to this being a show about a smarter, Indian Jess from New Girl, at least she's a size 8 or 10 AND THAT IS TOTALLY NORMAL!
So I guess what I'm saying is, I don't want to be a unicorn. I don't want all my friends to be unicorns. I want us to be nice pretty horses who all run around together and eat carrots, and some of the horses can be unicorns, and some can be zebras, and some can be very small, and some can pull plows, and some can be the fastest racehorse of all time, but at the end of the day: we're all horses.
At the end of the day: we're all humans. We're all the same.
Let's try to concentrate a little harder on that.
30 July 2012
thoughts on pride
"Proud people breed sorrow for themselves."
- emily bronte -
wuthering heights
I have generally thought myself to be a rather grounded person. Having once been a pretty dreamy girl, allowing my thoughts and actions to be dictated by whim and romance and laughter, I feel like I've arrived at a satisfactorily balanced approach, combining spontaneous positivity with an unshakable grip on reality. I think that's why I've been so self-reflective over the last few months-- trying not to let the "harsh realities" of my world blind me from the simple (and grand!) pleasures of life, always conscious of arguing dualities.
I've been unemployed-- but I don't have a job I hate.
My cats are wonderful and hilarious-- but that won't pay the bills.
Money is tight-- but I have so many clothes I never wear, things I never use, and extra pounds around my waist from abundance.
There is never one way to look at life. My feeling has been that it must always be observed through both eyes, that focus together to form clarity, unity, and harmony within myself. The worst and best of all things must be balanced, and anyone who ignores that balance is enormously proud of themselves.
My earlier years, with so much emphasis placed on shopping, texting, staying out late, flirting and skirting by in school, are a source of embarrassment to me. I look at myself and see a prideful girl-- one who knew it all (or consciously pretended to know it all) and thought I was better off for it. I pretended that I couldn't see then the consequences of my actions. Of course it was pretense because I could vocally acknowledge the results of my behavior at the time, but took my sweet time in changing my tune because I knew better. I was young, I was in college, I deserved that play time.
Prideful.
And my pride dictated the unhappiness that resulted from the constantly overdrawn bank account, the addition to my phone and computer, the lack of attention to my health and safety, the brash and loud personality, the sub-par report cards.
I'm grateful for the people who tried to tell me so at the time.
But then I became a you-so teller.
It's interesting to flip-flop in your life to such extremes because then you're mantled with this overwhelming sense of experience. You learn to care more. You learn to care too much. I looked around and saw all these other whimsical life players with their hopes and dreams and laughter and general disregard for Real Life or even just a steady job-- moreover, I saw for the first time their sorrows.
I could see how flirting shamelessly can make you seem desperate and sad, not darling and attractive. I could see how constant shopping at specific stores doesn't make you more awesome, especially without any regard for where the money is coming to pay for it all. I could see how being liberal, loud, out-spoken doesn't make a person carefree, but bound to the constraints of their liberality. I could see how our own prideful choices, made with a laugh in the face of humble reason, makes us sad and filled with regret.
Then, seeing how I was braizenly swinging on this pendulum between acknowledged lack of experience (I'm so young! I'm still learning too! I can be a grown up and still have fun!) and simultaneous grown-up-edness, I tried to wipe my hands of it all. Fine-- make your choices, no matter how destructive. You know your own life better than I do. It's not up to me to make you happy. I can't tell you how to be happy if you're convinced, and are so vocal about the fact that, you have to live it in order to learn it.
I seek to be teachable. I seek to learn from mistakes. I seek to be open to experience. I seek to be an example of hard work and integrity. I seek to be free from the bonds of pride.
Anyone who professes to seek improvement but refuses to step out of the vicious cycle of poor choices due to extreme, absurd self-assuredness-- is a fool.
Isn't that the most terrible thing? It sounds like the most terrible thing, when I put it that way. I paused before I wrote it, and then deleted and rewrote it, and then deleted and rewrote it all again, trying to think of another, kinder way to express my feelings. But I can't.
In my deepest, most immediate heart, I believe it.
Foolish people acknowledge what's wrong in their lives and continue to waste day after day after day in doing nothing but talking about it. Foolish people LOVE to talk about it.
And yet, there's this terrible double-side to pridefulness in being proud of our lack of pride.
All the attempts at humility and learning and openness and integrity is sullied with a hard edge that makes me just as sad as the silliness and overspending and irresponsibility.
I am proud of how un-prideful I am.
And you know, doesn't that breed just as many problems? Aren't I just as much caught up in the whirlwind of foolishness by caring how foolish others are? Doesn't that equally make me a fool?
So I'm trying this new thing: I'm trying very hard to forget my pride (and all the feelings and emotions and ego wrapped up in it) by losing sight of others' pride. I'm detangling myself from the cycle of proud sorrow since misery does love company and letting go.
It means I'm letting go of people, too-- and that's a sorrow in its own right.
I seek to be teachable. I seek to learn from my own mistakes. I seek to be open to my own experience. I seek to be an example of hard work and integrity for myself. I seek to be free from the bonds of my pride.
I guess that's all I can do.
summer wrap up
I haven't really posted this summer. What a shame. I won't waste time justifying (to myself, mostly) why I haven't or pretending like my life isn't interesting (because it is, and I don't think it's bad to say so). I'm sad about it. I miss writing. I don't know why I don't write more.
Cue rehashed commitment to writing and blogging.
Here are some bullet-points about Summer 2012:
Cue rehashed commitment to writing and blogging.
Here are some bullet-points about Summer 2012:
- I am working at Seven Peaks again, sort of. Corporate company, payroll assistant. Same song, different verse.
- Ames and I have been in Crazy for You all summer at Hale Center Theater Orem. It has been wonderful and exhausting. We close on Saturday. Come see us if you can, please!
- Ames and I have been cast in Oliver at Hale Centre Theatre for the fall. I have been cast as a lead in a musical. For anyone who knows me, and even those who don't, I am unaccustomed to being taken rather seriously in musical theater, especially in a serious musical. I'm terribly excited and scared.
- WE ARE GOING TO MAINE ON SUNDAY! Please take a moment to enjoy the view:
- I dyed my hair last night. It is currently "cheetah chic" owing to the sploches of brown that didn't bleach out evenly. We'll Take 2 tonight to fix it and also attempt to white out some of the brass. We're going for something more like (also tempted to cut it off and style like this on a daily basis):
Anyone read any good books lately?
09 May 2012
how do i do this?
Guys.
What has happened to the blogger layout since I last posted?
Apparently I don't blog frequently enough.
I mean, this is really freaking me out. It kind of reminds me of the old old blogger days, back in 7th grade when Aaron F invited me and a handful of friends to "blogger" and I had no idea what it was.
That's how I'm feeling right now with this layout. It's all scary and sleek. How do I do this?
I find myself asking that question kind of a lot lately. How do I do this? The skill set required at my job is coming back pretty quickly, though I'm feeling inefficient and somewhat ineffective. I want to fix things. I want it all to run easily and well. How?
I'm in rehearsals at night. I'm not a stranger to rehearsals, but I haven't legitimately tap danced in a while, for example. How do I move my feet to make those sounds? How do I move my body twelve different ways and directions all at once? How do I get past my silliness and insecurities? It feels like it should all be second nature, and yet it doesn't seem second nature somehow.
I used to blog a lot. I used to write essays a lot, and then I would post them on my blog. In a large sense, I'm not even sure I feel like I know how to write essays anymore-- or even dopey little blog posts. Have you seen this blog lately? What a dreadful pity. How do I begin? How do I know what to write about? I used to write all the time about school and life and making soup. How do I do this??
It seems very trite but the things I feel like I confidently know how to do are basically limited to watching TV (movies annoy me lately-- how do I watch a movie without feeling annoyed by it? I'm watching Chocolat right now this moment ((well, really it's playing in the background, I'm not really watching)) and even though I'd call it a Top 5-er and I'm obsessed with Juliette Binoche and I need those red shoes amirite ladies? Ugh. Movies. Annoying.), online window-shopping, and being obsessed with my cats.
Let me stop you right there and clarify: I didn't say that I know how to be obsessed with cats generally. I specifically know how to be obsessed with my own cats three (well, 2.5 really, since Jenna is very small and is only half the size of a normal cat).
But they really are the most hilarious and charming creatures. And they make me so happy. So is it really wrong? Is it wrong to love them so much? I ask you. Especially because I never have to ask myself how to love them. I just do. They don't get bogged down with anxiety or pressure to be the best or favorite cat because they're all the best one and they're all the favorite. They don't ever have to look at that hair elastic on the floor (Trevor's favorite toy) or consider their bowl of food and ask themselves, How do I do this?
I feel like it would be great to never have to ask myself, How do I do this?
I'm not saying I'm jealous of a few neurotic cats, you guys. I'm just saying it must be nice not to get inside your own head so much.
I guess I just need to start practicing again, give myself credit where it's due, and stop comparing myself to everyone else (which is a separate topic altogether).
And there is nothing wrong with the things I confidently know how to do. Mostly.
What has happened to the blogger layout since I last posted?
Apparently I don't blog frequently enough.
I mean, this is really freaking me out. It kind of reminds me of the old old blogger days, back in 7th grade when Aaron F invited me and a handful of friends to "blogger" and I had no idea what it was.
That's how I'm feeling right now with this layout. It's all scary and sleek. How do I do this?
I find myself asking that question kind of a lot lately. How do I do this? The skill set required at my job is coming back pretty quickly, though I'm feeling inefficient and somewhat ineffective. I want to fix things. I want it all to run easily and well. How?
I'm in rehearsals at night. I'm not a stranger to rehearsals, but I haven't legitimately tap danced in a while, for example. How do I move my feet to make those sounds? How do I move my body twelve different ways and directions all at once? How do I get past my silliness and insecurities? It feels like it should all be second nature, and yet it doesn't seem second nature somehow.
I used to blog a lot. I used to write essays a lot, and then I would post them on my blog. In a large sense, I'm not even sure I feel like I know how to write essays anymore-- or even dopey little blog posts. Have you seen this blog lately? What a dreadful pity. How do I begin? How do I know what to write about? I used to write all the time about school and life and making soup. How do I do this??
It seems very trite but the things I feel like I confidently know how to do are basically limited to watching TV (movies annoy me lately-- how do I watch a movie without feeling annoyed by it? I'm watching Chocolat right now this moment ((well, really it's playing in the background, I'm not really watching)) and even though I'd call it a Top 5-er and I'm obsessed with Juliette Binoche and I need those red shoes amirite ladies? Ugh. Movies. Annoying.), online window-shopping, and being obsessed with my cats.
Let me stop you right there and clarify: I didn't say that I know how to be obsessed with cats generally. I specifically know how to be obsessed with my own cats three (well, 2.5 really, since Jenna is very small and is only half the size of a normal cat).
But they really are the most hilarious and charming creatures. And they make me so happy. So is it really wrong? Is it wrong to love them so much? I ask you. Especially because I never have to ask myself how to love them. I just do. They don't get bogged down with anxiety or pressure to be the best or favorite cat because they're all the best one and they're all the favorite. They don't ever have to look at that hair elastic on the floor (Trevor's favorite toy) or consider their bowl of food and ask themselves, How do I do this?
I feel like it would be great to never have to ask myself, How do I do this?
I'm not saying I'm jealous of a few neurotic cats, you guys. I'm just saying it must be nice not to get inside your own head so much.
I guess I just need to start practicing again, give myself credit where it's due, and stop comparing myself to everyone else (which is a separate topic altogether).
And there is nothing wrong with the things I confidently know how to do. Mostly.
21 April 2012
ch-ch-ch-changes
1. I have a job. Praise the heavenly HR gods, and also (most especially) God.
2. Ames and I are starting rehearsals on Monday for a new project-- Crazy for You at Hale Center Theater Orem (where we met but have never performed together awwwwwww cute!). Come see us anytime June 14-August 4 since we're single cast. We tap dance a lot, Ames will be a cowboy, and I will act as a Dance Captain (not to be confused with being an actual dance captain, since that would be silly).
3. Baby sister Elizabeth graduated from BYU this week YAY!!!!!! (which has, incidentally, thrown off my internal clock almost irreversibly. What day is it? What time is it? Is tomorrow Sunday or Monday?) and it's got me all excitable to go back to school. I want to be a Master. It's a bucket list thing. What should I study, y'all??
4. I have worn lipstick every single day since February 26. Do you understand how great this is for my self-esteem? I'll tell you: it is great.
5. My hair is no longer red. I've jumped on the ombre trend and the ends are almost blonde. Can you believe it? Not only blonde, but I also-- wait for it-- changed the part. Like, on my scalp. Gasp. This is a big step for me.
6. I'm resolved to throw out (by which I mean donate, of course) most of my wardrobe until I'm left with only items which I will love to wear no matter what. It is empowering.
7. You know how I have that thyroid thing? Well Madame Butterfly has started acting out again, which is mildly frustrating, but only because my symptoms and diagnosis has kind of slipped in the other direction. The truth is, I'm feeling kind of... I don't know, it's hard to explain. I guess I feel kind of aware. Is that weird? I just feel specifically aware of myself and my body and my blessings and my place in life. Working toward a balance in and taking control of my health has kind of become a very real metaphor for taking control of the balance in my life. First of all, it makes me grateful, because things really are pretty great right now. I feel generally happy. I feel generally hopeful. I know my life isn't 100% right now (coming off unemployment, self-esteem, etc) but just like I take a little tinsy pill every day to help Madame work correctly, I know there are active things I must do each day to improve and balance and heal. It is good. It makes me feel in control.
8. My kitties are the most hilarious and great. I didn't know I could love cats. But I do!!!
What's changing in your life lately?
2. Ames and I are starting rehearsals on Monday for a new project-- Crazy for You at Hale Center Theater Orem (where we met but have never performed together awwwwwww cute!). Come see us anytime June 14-August 4 since we're single cast. We tap dance a lot, Ames will be a cowboy, and I will act as a Dance Captain (not to be confused with being an actual dance captain, since that would be silly).
3. Baby sister Elizabeth graduated from BYU this week YAY!!!!!! (which has, incidentally, thrown off my internal clock almost irreversibly. What day is it? What time is it? Is tomorrow Sunday or Monday?) and it's got me all excitable to go back to school. I want to be a Master. It's a bucket list thing. What should I study, y'all??
4. I have worn lipstick every single day since February 26. Do you understand how great this is for my self-esteem? I'll tell you: it is great.
5. My hair is no longer red. I've jumped on the ombre trend and the ends are almost blonde. Can you believe it? Not only blonde, but I also-- wait for it-- changed the part. Like, on my scalp. Gasp. This is a big step for me.
6. I'm resolved to throw out (by which I mean donate, of course) most of my wardrobe until I'm left with only items which I will love to wear no matter what. It is empowering.
7. You know how I have that thyroid thing? Well Madame Butterfly has started acting out again, which is mildly frustrating, but only because my symptoms and diagnosis has kind of slipped in the other direction. The truth is, I'm feeling kind of... I don't know, it's hard to explain. I guess I feel kind of aware. Is that weird? I just feel specifically aware of myself and my body and my blessings and my place in life. Working toward a balance in and taking control of my health has kind of become a very real metaphor for taking control of the balance in my life. First of all, it makes me grateful, because things really are pretty great right now. I feel generally happy. I feel generally hopeful. I know my life isn't 100% right now (coming off unemployment, self-esteem, etc) but just like I take a little tinsy pill every day to help Madame work correctly, I know there are active things I must do each day to improve and balance and heal. It is good. It makes me feel in control.
8. My kitties are the most hilarious and great. I didn't know I could love cats. But I do!!!
What's changing in your life lately?
07 March 2012
oh hello there.
Me again.
Not dead, not terribly busy, still not employed.
Not all is uneventful, however. One day we walked into Petsmart to pick up some food for Trevor and Lucille 2, and oops! a tiny full-grown cat named Jenna came home with us.
I get it. We're Cat People. I am so happy about rescuing these purrfect (wocka wocka) little pets and giving them a good life. I mean, that said-- we're DONE rescuing. We are not Hoarder Cat People or Stinky House Cat People or 1000 Cats In The House Cat People. That would be a lot of vacuuming. Zoinks.
Between rescuing Jenna the Tiny Cat and validating the existence of the other two, watching my stories, and finishing my gallery walls (which are awesommmmmmme seriously come over some time and see my handiwork and hang out for a while I'm not joking), I've also begun the process of trying to secure talent representation for myself.
The only reason I bring this up on the blog is because hopefully by posting, someone out there in Internet Land will read and perhaps assist in some advice/recommendation/referrals to agents, specifically in the Salt Lake area, although I'm more than happy to Go Bigger if the opportunity presented itself. I've talked to so many people and done a lot of research about agencies in SLC so it's not like I don't know what's out there. I just need some assistance in the next step-- a referral or an appointment or anything.
My headshot and resume are linked in the sidebar, which some may find helpful, and I truly do appreciate anything that might help me get this goal off the ground. I'll be sure to thank you in my Emmy acceptance speech one day.
Love you, blogland. I'll visit more regularly-- promise.
Not dead, not terribly busy, still not employed.
Not all is uneventful, however. One day we walked into Petsmart to pick up some food for Trevor and Lucille 2, and oops! a tiny full-grown cat named Jenna came home with us.
I get it. We're Cat People. I am so happy about rescuing these purrfect (wocka wocka) little pets and giving them a good life. I mean, that said-- we're DONE rescuing. We are not Hoarder Cat People or Stinky House Cat People or 1000 Cats In The House Cat People. That would be a lot of vacuuming. Zoinks.Between rescuing Jenna the Tiny Cat and validating the existence of the other two, watching my stories, and finishing my gallery walls (which are awesommmmmmme seriously come over some time and see my handiwork and hang out for a while I'm not joking), I've also begun the process of trying to secure talent representation for myself.
The only reason I bring this up on the blog is because hopefully by posting, someone out there in Internet Land will read and perhaps assist in some advice/recommendation/referrals to agents, specifically in the Salt Lake area, although I'm more than happy to Go Bigger if the opportunity presented itself. I've talked to so many people and done a lot of research about agencies in SLC so it's not like I don't know what's out there. I just need some assistance in the next step-- a referral or an appointment or anything.
My headshot and resume are linked in the sidebar, which some may find helpful, and I truly do appreciate anything that might help me get this goal off the ground. I'll be sure to thank you in my Emmy acceptance speech one day.
Love you, blogland. I'll visit more regularly-- promise.
10 February 2012
thoughts in the morning
It is not 8am yet.
To some (most) this fact would not be (is not) startling because most (almost all) normal grown-ups wake up at a reasonable, responsible hour to do things like go to work or school.
This before-8am post marks the second time this week that my eyes have witnessed the sun rise and also the second time my eyes have witnessed the sun rise probably since October 2011.
(Isn't noting the year specifically so dramatique of me?)
The truth is, I spent most (all) of this past night tossing and turning and trying to count backwards from 10,000 in an effort to fall asleep. I tend to sleep poorly at hotels because the truth is I really love staying at hotels. It's exciting, even if it's just Ogden, UT. (I need you to know that my phone auto-corrects "Ogden" as "Offensive." Before-8am is funny.) I also sleep poorly without Ames, and especially poorly without a routine. What I'm saying is, all of these facts added up to a sleepless night, evidenced by crumbles and swipes of yesterday's mascara all over this pillow and my forearm from where I tossed it over my face dramatically.
I have felt extraordinarily In Touch with my feelings and goals lately, and yet have seemed to neglect so much of what I love, like essays and writing and music. I've been focused a lot on TV which is great because I have learned a lot about acting, which is really what I love most, but I really do love all beautiful and creative things. I wish I could sew. Like, Project Runway sew. Crocheting is lovely and diverting but since everyone in the world is all about Pinterest and crafting these days it doesn't feel like something I can just throw myself into (except for doilies which are so so pretty and I am good at them, though one doesn't become particularly recognized for extreme feats in doilies).
I went to the mall yesterday (which still feels like today because I didn't sleep, remember?) and indulged in two pretty shirts. I've been so conscious of my lack of income or need to basically ever get dressed for any specific reason that my wardrobe has become increasingly disappointing. But these shirts are pretty and flattering and are of visual interest, which makes me feel like I'm of visual interest, which makes me feel like I can/should wear lipstick-- and we all know how I feel about wearing lipstick.
I'm up in Ogden for the Region 8 Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival-- not participating, of course, but Ames is and a bunch of our friends and I hate to pass up an opportunity to see some interesting acting. I should pay more attention to the seminars but I'm here specifically to see Round 2 of the Irene Ryan acting competition. He's staying with the students, I'm crashing with friend Mel. She is sleeping peacefully while I witness the day-dawn breaking.
Ogden is very interesting. Driving to this hotel was the first time I drove through downtown-- which looks exactly like downtown Provo, which looks exactly like Downtown of most every town in Utah except Salt Lake City. I passed a quintessential cafe, and the tattoo shop, and the crafty gift store that's kind of a landmark but you don't really know anyone who's ever shopped there. Downtown Ogden even has an Indian-place-on-the-corner, which I bet is delicious. There's something comforting in the fact that "downtown" is dependable and predictable. Maybe there's also something frustrating in it too. Frustrating and trapping and metaphorical.
I've been reading too many self-reflective blogs this night, as I landed on Twitter accounts of friends-of-friends-of-friends and whatever.
I guess I'll get up now and wipe away last night's mascara (or what's left of it) and go try to learn a thing or two about acting. I'm going to wear one of my new shirts with my favorite boots.
Maybe I should wake up before 8AM more often.
To some (most) this fact would not be (is not) startling because most (almost all) normal grown-ups wake up at a reasonable, responsible hour to do things like go to work or school.
This before-8am post marks the second time this week that my eyes have witnessed the sun rise and also the second time my eyes have witnessed the sun rise probably since October 2011.
(Isn't noting the year specifically so dramatique of me?)
The truth is, I spent most (all) of this past night tossing and turning and trying to count backwards from 10,000 in an effort to fall asleep. I tend to sleep poorly at hotels because the truth is I really love staying at hotels. It's exciting, even if it's just Ogden, UT. (I need you to know that my phone auto-corrects "Ogden" as "Offensive." Before-8am is funny.) I also sleep poorly without Ames, and especially poorly without a routine. What I'm saying is, all of these facts added up to a sleepless night, evidenced by crumbles and swipes of yesterday's mascara all over this pillow and my forearm from where I tossed it over my face dramatically.
I have felt extraordinarily In Touch with my feelings and goals lately, and yet have seemed to neglect so much of what I love, like essays and writing and music. I've been focused a lot on TV which is great because I have learned a lot about acting, which is really what I love most, but I really do love all beautiful and creative things. I wish I could sew. Like, Project Runway sew. Crocheting is lovely and diverting but since everyone in the world is all about Pinterest and crafting these days it doesn't feel like something I can just throw myself into (except for doilies which are so so pretty and I am good at them, though one doesn't become particularly recognized for extreme feats in doilies).
I went to the mall yesterday (which still feels like today because I didn't sleep, remember?) and indulged in two pretty shirts. I've been so conscious of my lack of income or need to basically ever get dressed for any specific reason that my wardrobe has become increasingly disappointing. But these shirts are pretty and flattering and are of visual interest, which makes me feel like I'm of visual interest, which makes me feel like I can/should wear lipstick-- and we all know how I feel about wearing lipstick.
I'm up in Ogden for the Region 8 Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival-- not participating, of course, but Ames is and a bunch of our friends and I hate to pass up an opportunity to see some interesting acting. I should pay more attention to the seminars but I'm here specifically to see Round 2 of the Irene Ryan acting competition. He's staying with the students, I'm crashing with friend Mel. She is sleeping peacefully while I witness the day-dawn breaking.
Ogden is very interesting. Driving to this hotel was the first time I drove through downtown-- which looks exactly like downtown Provo, which looks exactly like Downtown of most every town in Utah except Salt Lake City. I passed a quintessential cafe, and the tattoo shop, and the crafty gift store that's kind of a landmark but you don't really know anyone who's ever shopped there. Downtown Ogden even has an Indian-place-on-the-corner, which I bet is delicious. There's something comforting in the fact that "downtown" is dependable and predictable. Maybe there's also something frustrating in it too. Frustrating and trapping and metaphorical.
I've been reading too many self-reflective blogs this night, as I landed on Twitter accounts of friends-of-friends-of-friends and whatever.
I guess I'll get up now and wipe away last night's mascara (or what's left of it) and go try to learn a thing or two about acting. I'm going to wear one of my new shirts with my favorite boots.
Maybe I should wake up before 8AM more often.
03 February 2012
priorities
I've started and restarted this entry about 100 times this morning. I know what I want to say but not really how to say it. Cleverness isn't pouring out of my brain. I may as well stop beating around the bush.
What I mean to say is, I am grateful for creativity in my life.
I crave it. It's all I want to do and accomplish. I love beautiful things, and words and art and music and acting. You guys. I love acting. I've spent all these years of my life going to school and studying literature and history and knowing things, all with the intention of finding a way to for the rest of my life. But in the midst of school were the day jobs and the social events and the piles of books I continued to pretend like I was reading for fun but I wasn't. I did lots of acting and gained lots of experience and developed invaluable relationships, but to what end? Why?
There were a few months in my junior year that I spent being single cast in She Loves Me, wearing pretty 30s clothes and a great wig, spending every single night and Saturday with people who are so talented that it really hurts my feelings, and I realized-- I could do this. For the rest of my life, I could do this. It was a tiny role in a show I hadn't particularly dreamed of performing my whole life, but that stretch of 2 months proved not only I could give my life to an extreme routine with the same tiny group of people in the same building every single night, but I want to.
And of course, life takes different turns. I went through a little period of seeming un-castability, got married, started to embrace what it means to be a "grown up," and started stressing out so hard that anxiety became my constant companion. I've found more and more opportunities to perform in the last year, but wasn't able to concentrate and appreciate those experiences for what they really were.
With a screeching halt, the "grown up" responsibilities have basically gone out the window. I mean, I think a whole lot about money and cars and trying to find a "responsible" job, but the bottom line is that:
Since October, I have had the chance to focus on creativity and art and acting almost without distraction.
It's almost all I think about. It's what I crave. I miss friends, but not at the expense of having "free time" in the evenings. I am happy to make the commute to West Valley. I am working my dream job, you guys. For the first time in my life, I feel so strongly that the Lord is allowing me some time to reprioritize my commitments, starting with those that are most important to me and fitting in everything else around it.
I am BLESSED.
And the more I look for creative opportunities-- to read and sing and look at art and work on big theatrical projects and find creatively-minded day jobs-- they are there more and more for me.
Art is a jealous world. There can be so much competition and subjectivity and meanness, but it is also the most feeling and fulfilling and wonderful. I have so many chances and places and opportunities to perform and make art-- more than other people who would take my place so fast if I had a bad attitude. I appreciate that, and I am grateful.
For the first time in so long, I'm more and more in love with my life.
What I mean to say is, I am grateful for creativity in my life.
I crave it. It's all I want to do and accomplish. I love beautiful things, and words and art and music and acting. You guys. I love acting. I've spent all these years of my life going to school and studying literature and history and knowing things, all with the intention of finding a way to for the rest of my life. But in the midst of school were the day jobs and the social events and the piles of books I continued to pretend like I was reading for fun but I wasn't. I did lots of acting and gained lots of experience and developed invaluable relationships, but to what end? Why?
There were a few months in my junior year that I spent being single cast in She Loves Me, wearing pretty 30s clothes and a great wig, spending every single night and Saturday with people who are so talented that it really hurts my feelings, and I realized-- I could do this. For the rest of my life, I could do this. It was a tiny role in a show I hadn't particularly dreamed of performing my whole life, but that stretch of 2 months proved not only I could give my life to an extreme routine with the same tiny group of people in the same building every single night, but I want to.
And of course, life takes different turns. I went through a little period of seeming un-castability, got married, started to embrace what it means to be a "grown up," and started stressing out so hard that anxiety became my constant companion. I've found more and more opportunities to perform in the last year, but wasn't able to concentrate and appreciate those experiences for what they really were.
With a screeching halt, the "grown up" responsibilities have basically gone out the window. I mean, I think a whole lot about money and cars and trying to find a "responsible" job, but the bottom line is that:
Since October, I have had the chance to focus on creativity and art and acting almost without distraction.
It's almost all I think about. It's what I crave. I miss friends, but not at the expense of having "free time" in the evenings. I am happy to make the commute to West Valley. I am working my dream job, you guys. For the first time in my life, I feel so strongly that the Lord is allowing me some time to reprioritize my commitments, starting with those that are most important to me and fitting in everything else around it.
I am BLESSED.
And the more I look for creative opportunities-- to read and sing and look at art and work on big theatrical projects and find creatively-minded day jobs-- they are there more and more for me.
Art is a jealous world. There can be so much competition and subjectivity and meanness, but it is also the most feeling and fulfilling and wonderful. I have so many chances and places and opportunities to perform and make art-- more than other people who would take my place so fast if I had a bad attitude. I appreciate that, and I am grateful.
For the first time in so long, I'm more and more in love with my life.
24 January 2012
inevitability
Do you ever think that sometimes some things will just inevitably disagree? Like, that stereotypical as it is, cats and dogs will always misunderstand like, well, cats and dogs?
We've been babysitting my parents' dog Sprout this week while they're in Alaska (in the dead of winter, of course-- because when else would you go to Alaska? I kid, I think it's awesome). Sprout and our cats have been mostly steering clear of each other, until last night when Trevor just got a little too close so Sprout barked which sent Trevor going SHOOM! across the living room, and then (surprise of surprises) Lucille 2 came to Trevor's defense making the most strange meowing noises and looking like she was just going to rip Sprout's face off-- which is weird because usually Lucille 2 and Trevor themselves seem kind of at odds. At any rate, the cats and Sprout were mistrustful of each other from the start and it came to a head last night, which I guess was inevitable if the stereotype is at all true-- which it is apparently, as proved last night.
But like, as I continue to sally forth through this unknown land of unemployment, I'm starting to wonder if I'm living in some kind of inevitable disagreement. I like the flexibility of my schedule and not having to get up early in the morning, but the financial situation isn't ideal, to say the least. I actually cook dinner for us most days, but still haven't gotten the hang of keeping the rest of the house as tidy as I know I can/should. I have all the time in the world to go to the gym and have the body I've always wanted, but since I have the time to put it off, I sometimes do. It's like all the different parts of me just disagree.
And what's weird is that the cats-- especially Lucille 2-- observe my loyalty to Sprout the dog which makes them mistrust me too. Moments after petting Sprout, I tried to snuggle Lucille 2 and she would not have it!
Rather like the dozens of interviews I've had. They all know I'm in the job market. They all know I'm not looking for a new job but rather a job, and sometimes they even (politely) call me out on it. My interviews have been really pretty successful. I'm lucky to have even been called in as frequently as I have been-- but my lot seems to be perpetually second choice. Again with the disagreement: an impressive background and resume but not the "right fit."
In a lot of ways, that's okay. As I consider it, I think I'd rather wait to be the "right fit" at the right job than to be an "okay fit" in a job I'm not crazy for. And yet, I look at our dwindling bank account and wonder if the balance is just inevitably unattainable.
Maybe that's one of the things I'm supposed to be learning during this time. Maybe the balance is the imbalance? In every season and whatever? Because for as much as I've babied Sprout this week, I'm in turn inclined to bribe my cats with treats, which means there's mutual payoff for the misunderstanding between the species. There's a silver lining to the seeming imbalance.
Of course it's probably one of those things I won't recognize for years and years.
But I guess by then it'll be an appropriate anecdote to share in my memoirs.
See-- I'm already getting the hang of this inevitable duality.
We've been babysitting my parents' dog Sprout this week while they're in Alaska (in the dead of winter, of course-- because when else would you go to Alaska? I kid, I think it's awesome). Sprout and our cats have been mostly steering clear of each other, until last night when Trevor just got a little too close so Sprout barked which sent Trevor going SHOOM! across the living room, and then (surprise of surprises) Lucille 2 came to Trevor's defense making the most strange meowing noises and looking like she was just going to rip Sprout's face off-- which is weird because usually Lucille 2 and Trevor themselves seem kind of at odds. At any rate, the cats and Sprout were mistrustful of each other from the start and it came to a head last night, which I guess was inevitable if the stereotype is at all true-- which it is apparently, as proved last night.
But like, as I continue to sally forth through this unknown land of unemployment, I'm starting to wonder if I'm living in some kind of inevitable disagreement. I like the flexibility of my schedule and not having to get up early in the morning, but the financial situation isn't ideal, to say the least. I actually cook dinner for us most days, but still haven't gotten the hang of keeping the rest of the house as tidy as I know I can/should. I have all the time in the world to go to the gym and have the body I've always wanted, but since I have the time to put it off, I sometimes do. It's like all the different parts of me just disagree.
And what's weird is that the cats-- especially Lucille 2-- observe my loyalty to Sprout the dog which makes them mistrust me too. Moments after petting Sprout, I tried to snuggle Lucille 2 and she would not have it!
Rather like the dozens of interviews I've had. They all know I'm in the job market. They all know I'm not looking for a new job but rather a job, and sometimes they even (politely) call me out on it. My interviews have been really pretty successful. I'm lucky to have even been called in as frequently as I have been-- but my lot seems to be perpetually second choice. Again with the disagreement: an impressive background and resume but not the "right fit."
In a lot of ways, that's okay. As I consider it, I think I'd rather wait to be the "right fit" at the right job than to be an "okay fit" in a job I'm not crazy for. And yet, I look at our dwindling bank account and wonder if the balance is just inevitably unattainable.
Maybe that's one of the things I'm supposed to be learning during this time. Maybe the balance is the imbalance? In every season and whatever? Because for as much as I've babied Sprout this week, I'm in turn inclined to bribe my cats with treats, which means there's mutual payoff for the misunderstanding between the species. There's a silver lining to the seeming imbalance.
Of course it's probably one of those things I won't recognize for years and years.
But I guess by then it'll be an appropriate anecdote to share in my memoirs.
See-- I'm already getting the hang of this inevitable duality.
20 January 2012
up all night
The truth is, I've been awake all night.
I think my mother will especially raise her eyebrows about it, but it isn't for lack of trying. I watched the end of Whip It that Ames was playing when I got home from West Valley, and then I wrote in my journal, and then I read scriptures, and then I read some of The Glass Castle, and then I tossed and turned and couldn't turn my brain off for a few more hours, and then I finished The Glass Castle, and then I tossed and turned some more as I struggled with how to seriously stop thinking, Brain!-- so I've resigned myself to internet trolling and last night's 30 Rock on demand. I also coughed and blew my nose a bunch of times due to the chest cold.
All of that took like seven hours. What can I do? There's nothing more I can do--except follow 30 Rock with Parks & Recreation and maybe (probably) Up All Night. It would be fitting. I mean, right?
The truth is, this seems to me to be a particularly well-written episode of 30 Rock. Is anyone else with me on this??
No but really, the truth is I think I must be rather "filled with ambition." At least for tonight I've joined the ranks of artists and inventors and writers who are struck with genius or something and stay up nights to work furiously on fulfilling their creative callings in life. Of course tonight I haven't exactly begun direct work on my masterpiece, but I'm excited by creativity and life goals in a way I've been distinctly lacking in recent months.
I can't say I've got a "plan," per se. But I have ambition, and I'm reeling. Clearly.
I'm hoping this doesn't become a habit, but luckily I have a tall stack of books to read my way through just in case.
I think my mother will especially raise her eyebrows about it, but it isn't for lack of trying. I watched the end of Whip It that Ames was playing when I got home from West Valley, and then I wrote in my journal, and then I read scriptures, and then I read some of The Glass Castle, and then I tossed and turned and couldn't turn my brain off for a few more hours, and then I finished The Glass Castle, and then I tossed and turned some more as I struggled with how to seriously stop thinking, Brain!-- so I've resigned myself to internet trolling and last night's 30 Rock on demand. I also coughed and blew my nose a bunch of times due to the chest cold.
All of that took like seven hours. What can I do? There's nothing more I can do--except follow 30 Rock with Parks & Recreation and maybe (probably) Up All Night. It would be fitting. I mean, right?
The truth is, this seems to me to be a particularly well-written episode of 30 Rock. Is anyone else with me on this??
No but really, the truth is I think I must be rather "filled with ambition." At least for tonight I've joined the ranks of artists and inventors and writers who are struck with genius or something and stay up nights to work furiously on fulfilling their creative callings in life. Of course tonight I haven't exactly begun direct work on my masterpiece, but I'm excited by creativity and life goals in a way I've been distinctly lacking in recent months.
I can't say I've got a "plan," per se. But I have ambition, and I'm reeling. Clearly.
I'm hoping this doesn't become a habit, but luckily I have a tall stack of books to read my way through just in case.
13 January 2012
dilemma
I think it can be agreed that the two greatest reasons for staying home sick from school when we were young were 1) The Price is Right and 2) Unsolved Mysteries. Am I wrong, fellow children of the 80's? Nothing better than some good ol' Bob Barker and flashing lights and fanatical game players and such an engaging, sing-songy voice to "Tell 'er what she's won!" since, at 10-years old, I was no good at actually pricing items. And I guess I was frankly more interested in drinking Squeeze-Its than I was in pricing them (bonus reason for being sick: Squeeze-Its).
So I guess what I'm saying is that Unsolved Mysteries was actually the best part of being home sick from school (aside from the Squeeze-Its-- they're really hard to find these days, have you noticed?). Don't you have good memories of snuggling into piles of blankets on the couch, the coffee table riddled with tissues and ginger ale and the barf bucket, peeking at the screen and trying to make it through theme music without changing the channel? Have a listen:
Ooooooh it gives me the creeps to hear it. The new version is not nearly as skin-crawly.
But may I pose a grown-up question to you?
If you are a Grown Up without a job or very many places to go and you pay your own bills so you can watch reruns of Unsolved Mysteries every afternoon if you want to (again, I can't emphasize how un-creepy the newer version of the theme song is)-- in other words, if you can treat every day like it's a sick day, well...
...what do you do then when you're actually sick?
Especially when the mysteries you watched fifteen years ago are still unsolved!!!
So I guess what I'm saying is that Unsolved Mysteries was actually the best part of being home sick from school (aside from the Squeeze-Its-- they're really hard to find these days, have you noticed?). Don't you have good memories of snuggling into piles of blankets on the couch, the coffee table riddled with tissues and ginger ale and the barf bucket, peeking at the screen and trying to make it through theme music without changing the channel? Have a listen:
Ooooooh it gives me the creeps to hear it. The new version is not nearly as skin-crawly.
But may I pose a grown-up question to you?
If you are a Grown Up without a job or very many places to go and you pay your own bills so you can watch reruns of Unsolved Mysteries every afternoon if you want to (again, I can't emphasize how un-creepy the newer version of the theme song is)-- in other words, if you can treat every day like it's a sick day, well...
...what do you do then when you're actually sick?
Especially when the mysteries you watched fifteen years ago are still unsolved!!!
11 January 2012
finally welcome 2012
Well okay. So I haven't blogged in 1000 years and I was all inspired to update about The Holidays. And then that didn't happen, so I was going to jump on the "Why I Liked 2011" train but felt like I didn't have much to say. And then I thought I could do a round of New Years Resolutions but mine for this year are almost the same as they were last year, which is to say that they're almost the same as they are almost every year (almost).
Mostly I just want to talk about television or whatever.
(PS did you notice the double elevens in today's date? 1/11/12? I LOVE ELEVEN.)
So what I'm saying is I'm uninspired. Perhaps uninspiring? Uh oh!
I figure I should just kick off Year 5 of this blog (five years what the what!) by being grateful, at least, since I've had the chance to take a long hard look at my life lately and I figure-- it ain't too bad. Ain't too bad at all. And then maybe I'll have more interesting and hilarious anecdotes about the mundanities of my life to entertain you.
I think the best thing to happen to me last year was/has been my association at Hale Centre Theatre. I've been blessed with three opportunities to perform there and am stunned by all the incredibly wonderful and talented people I now cherish as my friends. Working up north has also closed the gap between Utah, Salt Lake and even Weber Counties, making a 45 minute-2 hour trip up I-15 just a blink of an eye. I love to work there. I love it.
I'm actually currently working at Hale in a new little show called The Game's Afoot.
Now I mean, if you ask the Salt Lake Trib, it isn't a very good little show. But that's not true. It is a good little show, just a new little script, meaning there perhaps was room for the script to be workshopped before production. But it's a good little show! I play an actress from Texas and I wear great hair and a beautiful green dress. I perform Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday nights at 7:30pm and Saturday afternoons at 4pm. Clicky-clicky the picture to buy tickets (which you'll be hard-pressed to do, since they're almost sold out. But come for standby! You'll get seats for sure).
I'm also grateful for RuPaul.
SIDE NOTE: Do you watch RuPaul's Drag Race? If you don't, you can find seasons 2 and 3 on Netflix, and season 4 starts in a few weeks. If you're a fan of America's Next Top Model and/or Project Runway, YOU WILL LOVE THIS SHOW.
Anyway, the cats got Ames Ru's book Workin' It! RuPaul's Guide to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Style for Christmas and it's incredibly inspiring. I recommend it to everyone. If you start to see RuPaul quote posters float around pinterest, it'll be because I'm going to create and hang them all over my house (and the internet).
ADDITIONAL SIDE NOTE: Ru is appearing on The Chew this morning. Werq!
I'm also grateful for positive and improving self-image. If you know anything about me, or if you've ever read this blog, you know that my self-image kind of waxes and wanes between killer-awesome-take-over-the-world confidence and somewhat hapless discouragement. While unemployment is growing tiresome in so many ways, the last few months have been really healing. I'm proud of who I am, my talents, my creativity, and the positive changes I'm making in my life.
So happy 2012, one and all! May the new year bring creativity, positivity, and way more blog posts from little ol' me.
Mostly I just want to talk about television or whatever.
(PS did you notice the double elevens in today's date? 1/11/12? I LOVE ELEVEN.)
So what I'm saying is I'm uninspired. Perhaps uninspiring? Uh oh!
I figure I should just kick off Year 5 of this blog (five years what the what!) by being grateful, at least, since I've had the chance to take a long hard look at my life lately and I figure-- it ain't too bad. Ain't too bad at all. And then maybe I'll have more interesting and hilarious anecdotes about the mundanities of my life to entertain you.
I think the best thing to happen to me last year was/has been my association at Hale Centre Theatre. I've been blessed with three opportunities to perform there and am stunned by all the incredibly wonderful and talented people I now cherish as my friends. Working up north has also closed the gap between Utah, Salt Lake and even Weber Counties, making a 45 minute-2 hour trip up I-15 just a blink of an eye. I love to work there. I love it.
I'm actually currently working at Hale in a new little show called The Game's Afoot.
Now I mean, if you ask the Salt Lake Trib, it isn't a very good little show. But that's not true. It is a good little show, just a new little script, meaning there perhaps was room for the script to be workshopped before production. But it's a good little show! I play an actress from Texas and I wear great hair and a beautiful green dress. I perform Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday nights at 7:30pm and Saturday afternoons at 4pm. Clicky-clicky the picture to buy tickets (which you'll be hard-pressed to do, since they're almost sold out. But come for standby! You'll get seats for sure).I'm also grateful for RuPaul.
SIDE NOTE: Do you watch RuPaul's Drag Race? If you don't, you can find seasons 2 and 3 on Netflix, and season 4 starts in a few weeks. If you're a fan of America's Next Top Model and/or Project Runway, YOU WILL LOVE THIS SHOW.Anyway, the cats got Ames Ru's book Workin' It! RuPaul's Guide to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Style for Christmas and it's incredibly inspiring. I recommend it to everyone. If you start to see RuPaul quote posters float around pinterest, it'll be because I'm going to create and hang them all over my house (and the internet).
ADDITIONAL SIDE NOTE: Ru is appearing on The Chew this morning. Werq!
I'm also grateful for positive and improving self-image. If you know anything about me, or if you've ever read this blog, you know that my self-image kind of waxes and wanes between killer-awesome-take-over-the-world confidence and somewhat hapless discouragement. While unemployment is growing tiresome in so many ways, the last few months have been really healing. I'm proud of who I am, my talents, my creativity, and the positive changes I'm making in my life.
So happy 2012, one and all! May the new year bring creativity, positivity, and way more blog posts from little ol' me.
PS! We're finally getting around to doing our holiday cards (I'm big into President's Day or whatever). Email me with your address if you'd like one!
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