all I need to know i learned at target

There are few things more satisfying than pushing around a shopping cart at Target with one hand and a wrist, because the other hand has a warm, salty soft pretzel in it and there's a Diet Coke resting on the child's seat. It's a smallish cup for a proper Diet Coke, but I guess that's the point of the refills. The more refills you go back for, the more times you walk by the hair products and all-natural bath products and children's clothes and makeup and Oreos and holiday-themed foods (ie. ingredients for green bean casserole) so you find yourself purchasing $70 worth of items in exchange for the Diet Coke.

Potentially worth it, depending on how many refills you get. (In my case, just the two so I averaged only about $15 worth of P.O.Ps).

It's a privileged experience I had, padding around in an oversized sweater (bought at Target) and cut-off shorts (also Target), my feet rattling around in too-big slipper-boots I bought years ago instead of Uggs (Target brand, $19) and my hair escaping from a wrap headband with cats on it-- no work today, no children to tend to, no appointments to meet.

Just me, my soft pretzel/Diet Coke combo $3.49, and the crown jewel of department stores, in my estimation.

I came with a specific mission: to get that soft pretzel and then reclaim my life.

If you think that's a tall order for a visit to Target, you clearly haven't allowed Target to do its job. Breathe. Let it happen. Get some popcorn and wander for an hour or three. Find some leggings that have leopard faces or a YOU GO GLEN COCO t-shirt. Let it whisper to you the secrets of your soul.

Here's what I learned at Target today:

When debating between brand name or off-brand cleaning products, and the difference in price is only $0.39, I can buy the brand name because it's reputable and also-- I earn my own money. This Clorox toilet bowel cleaner has clout and it will save me from doing my second-least favorite chore so frequently. It is my toilet bowl and it is my $0.39.

Whenever I need to run into someone I know in public, it'll inevitably happen in the aisle between girls clothing and check-out. The people I meet are always the ones I need to see and they will tell me what I need to hear. Today, I got a giant VALIDATION stamp from one sassy hairdresser, and blew Chase Brown's mind when we were in the same place at the same time again. Amy Poehler believes in time travel-- these brief encounters make me believe too.

(Amy Poehler's book is brilliant and lovely and it is available at Target.)

I need to listen to my gut when I'm drawn to that $3 Christmas ornament. It'll bring me specific joy forever, especially if it's covered in sequins.

As a pet owner, it is my prerogative to weigh my litter box options and then purchase a more expensive brand that may be a better fit for my home that I live in and have to clean. Arm & Hammer BLOWS MY MIND. My third least favorite chore is little more than sandbox time (joke!) because I have the option and I get to choose and I am even rewarded with a $1.50 off coupon.

Polka dot bedsheets and a pillow top mattress pad may do more to make a person (me) feel more like herself (myself) than almost any change to appearance, wardrobe or circumstance. My bed cloud is my oasis. It's OK to invest in things that celebrate that.

I left smiling and empowered. I made specific choices. I am energized and excited in a way I haven't been for weeks or maybe months. It was a relatively small set of purchases that has seemed to have rocketed me to another level of self-actualization.

So much so that I came home and cooked up a bowl of peas and corn.

Because self-actualized people eat vegetables.

And because I like peas and corn specifically.

And because I have to offset the salted soft pretzel one way or another. 

Summer of Self(ies)

I've had a hard time recognizing myself lately. Just generally-- I have oozed with WHO AM I.

I haven't really known myself lately.

It's safe to say I've had a big year. Big changes, big ups and downs, big successes, and what feels like equally big failures.

(I know I haven't actually failed, it's just colored that way sometimes.)

It's pretty confusing, if I'm being honest.

I feel all of the feelings all at the same time, just swirling around inside me all at once. It's taught me a lot about feelings, actually. How all feelings are valid, and they stem from each other, and how it's so very possible to feel acutely elated and flat lined all at once. My heart chakra can hardly deal.

It's manifested a lot to me personally in my face.

I don't recognize myself.

I mean, objectively I do. I know I'm me when I look in a mirror.

But I just don't look how I've always thought I do. Or how I've always felt? Or I don't look the way I expect to, is probably most accurate.

Especially because it's been a big year.

I should look more sad, or angry, or tired, or old (I'm almost 30!?), or numb, or whatever it is-- but I shouldn't look like THAT to myself because what I look like mostly is just happy.

Happy and beautiful and self-actualized and grounded and brighter than I suppose I have any right to be.

I don't know if I look like that to other people. It doesn't really matter. I've just had the pleasantest time getting to know myself and see ME the way I am.

So I started an experiment.

Starting the April 27, I started taking pictures of myself when I felt happy or pretty or calm or confident or anything that, by social ridiculous standards, I wasn't supposed to feel yet. I had no intention of doing anything with them at the time except to have them handy when I needed to prove to me personally, "HEY. YOU WERE ELATED IN THIS MOMENT."

Or confident or pretty or calm or anything, really.

Selfies, OK????

A lot of frigging selfies.

Selfies on purpose, selfies for insta, selfies saved from snap chat (thanks for snapping with me everyone-- you've been a tremendous help!).

Hey self, you have really good hair today.

Hey, this skirt has next looked better.

Hey, your eyelashes are really long.

Hey, your lipstick is great.

Hey, people think you're really funny. 

Hey, you saved that cat and she had a great life because of you.

Hey, you have a lot of friends.

Hey, people want to date you.

Hey, you have a chance to help others.

Hey, the stars are really bright tonight.

Hey--

There has been so much momentum.

And I have-- I have used those pictures as a pep talk to myself because hello, IT HAS BEEN A BIG YEAR and sometimes I need to physically remind myself of my worth.

(And now is as good a time as any to also acknowledge those others who have reminded me of it too, even though it's kind of embarrassing to me because being vulnerable is hard but I have a picture of that too because hey, I can do hard things!!

You lovely, dear, perfect people know who you are-- especially three of you. Thank you thank you thank you. Please let me take a photo of us together to add to my album.)

The best part has been, however, how the photos have changed for me. I started quite shallow, as I think these things require, but also because I have had moments were I just couldn't recognize all the pieces of my face together in one whole. It didn't look like me all together, but those eyes did, and sometimes the mouth, and usually the nose, so THIS IS WHAT I LOOK LIKE, SELF.

But it progressed quite naturally into feelings and learning who I am, what I look like, when I feel a thing-- even a sad or depressed or confused or lost thing (and there are plenty of those).

And has recently become much more about what I offer as a person, where i come from, WHO I come from, where I'm going, without much emphasis on the look at all except that I'm one cohesive package.

Selfies have changed me.

What had the capacity to become an obsessive, shallow bad habit has proved to myself that I have worth and value and much to offer at the most fundamental level-- most especially a lot to offer myself and not anyone else.

I recognize who I am.

I know me.

unity by binary

Have you ever felt yourself splinter?

I don't mean just scattered bits of you, trying to figure out how to accomplish too many tasks or juggle too many social engagements or which pair of earrings to wear this morning.

I mean your literal, actual soul-- your identity-- just splitting apart like the ends of my hair that need a trim?

You know, my hair is a great metaphor. Because those strands of hair that are splitting-- the origin is one strand that separate into two and three and maybe more little bits. So it's all really the same hair, just different sides of it.

You know?

I've been splintered.

Not exactly in a bad way, before you jump to conclusions.

It's actually allowing me to inspect each of the little bits and figure out where they split off from the singular me, the united me, the United States of Me, and why they split, and how exactly they split off from USM (United States of Me).

And how it's possible that I see and feel two sides of every individual thing in every single moment.

You know in the last season of LOST when there were two different versions of the same story? There was the linear continuation of the same story we had been watching (and scratching our heads about but never stopped watching because Ben Linus was just so freaking good and we just had to see if it could actually come full circle ((which it didn't really, let's be honest with ourselves)). At the same time there was the second new story that told us about what would have happened if the crash never happened-- if the LOST never happened.

[Truthfully I take umbrage with Sideways Land of LOST because I just didn't really like the story and the finale was not the enlightening experience for me that it seemed to be for everyone else (except for Sun and Jin obviously). That said, it's created a perfect illustration for me.]

I feel like I'm living like that final season of LOST. I have the linear me that's marching down the same, albeit unpredictable, unified USM path I've been on my whole life. I grew up, graduated from BYU, got married, have done a lot acting, had some jobs, am getting divorced, will do something else, etc.

And there's the Sideways Land me (SLM), which has been snapped back 5 years. I've just finished college and have the whole world at my feet. I have no money but 1000 prospects in every possible area of my life. My name is mine again. My contact lens prescription is the same. A surprising number of My People are still single, and even if they're not I've seen more of them than I have in years-- I mean, it's uncanny and wonderful. I never changed the URL to this blog. The only things that have changed (I mean, not really, but you know what I mean) is the presence of my three cats (much to the surprise of my dog-loving heart) and my thyroid condition (hyper-turned-hypo, making me a hyper-hypo).

These two sides of me aren't mutually exclusive. It's the same me starring in both worlds, on separate planes but always in the exact same moment. In one single minute I can be grieving and grasping at straws to heal, and giggling at a thoughtful message that brightens my vision of the future.

I feel invincible and glorious while I'm fallible and dull.

Lovely and interesting and ugly and tedious.

Unmotivated and ambitious.

Loved and unloved.

Overwhelmed and free.

Sexy and frumpy.

A world of binaries that very few people seem to understand.

What people don't see is that I mourn by embracing opportunity. I am busting out of my skin as I sit still. My soul sings in the silence, or sometimes my throat sings so I can be silent.

I laugh and cry all at once, one feeding off the other in a grand cycle that's occasionally confusing but always informative.

It's weird.

But it doesn't feel weird. It feels natural.

Weird and natural. And weird.

All splintered and skipping around trying to grasp at reality and possibility-- constant dichotomy that's thrilling (terrifying), difficult to explain (easy to feel), resentful (grateful), hopeful ( sense of impending doom...).

And strangely, it's all driven by love.

So unexpectedly, I am driven by love.

I have never loved more-- and that's no dichotomy.

In each win, as in each loss, a little crack is chiseled into my heart that's not breaking at all but expanding it into this giant, enormous heart that just wants to hug everyone.

I want to spend time with everyone, and talk to everyone, and really know everyone, and help everyone, and support everyone, and give everyone gifts, and bake everyone pies, and spend a warm evening with everyone piled on blankets in a park under the stars holding hands.

The splinters are magnifying my capacity to love.

And so maybe it's not like my hair at all-- not split up sides of the original USM.

Maybe it's the other way around.

Maybe the splinters are the original parts, emerging from all around and swirling together to make this whole, loving, loveable person.

The me I've always been all at once-- that I've just never given myself the chance to feel and see and be it all at once before.

 How fascinating.

And not at all boring.

i can do hard things 5

This was a hard week.

Just generally.

A hard week.

A lot happened-- a lot of tragedy, a lot of joy, a lot of confusion, and confusion on how I should deal with all of it at once.

I feel like I did a pretty good job and I didn't (entirely) self-implode.

I also learned how I need to keep my people close to me and that it does take effort-- but not all that much-- to do so.

(On that topic, I have really, really excellent people.)

I did a lot of hard things this week.

High-five, self.

i can do hard things 4

I've had ideas for other posts swirling around my head this week, though nothing has really stuck enough to sit and write about it. Maybe that's part of the problem? I should just take the time to write it out and then it would come together? Who can say. I'll try that this week.

• I took an audition. It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me at all that this particular audition was filled with a lot of anticipation and expectation. It's for a role I love in a show I love that could allow me to play opposite the guy I love, so.... it's kind of a big deal to me. And I did it. And it wasn't the worst. And I haven't been cut yet. Now the hard thing will be to not put too much weight in what happens next. What will be, will be.
  
• I performed Les Mis five times in less than three days. It may not sound like much, but by the middle of last night it was just really hard to keep my eyes open. I think some people misunderstand me and think by being physically tired that I've moved on emotionally (or maybe didn't even invest in the first place), but that's not at all true. The body just gets tired sometimes, you know? It actually makes me care about the show even more because I know how focused I can (and should) be. Anyway this week kicked off the rest of our busy, busy run and it was a good indication of how I need to sustain myself.
  
• I cured a blossoming sore throat/cold with just a steamer for my throat, a lot of drinking water, and some essential oils. I drank some oregano and it was THE WORST. But I didn't die, and in fact my health improved.
  
• I refrained from eating an entire box of oreos (in one sitting).

I guess my week wasn't all that hard.

#firstworldproblems?

i can do hard things 3

• I stood up for myself. This week I found myself in the middle of a fresh he-said-she-said, interestingly with someone I don't actually know. I mean we've spoken a few times, but we don't know each other. So instead of letting it fester (or worse-- letting it continue into communities of people who also don't know me but think they do), I personally nipped it in the bud. And concluded with a zinger that I'm particularly proud of.
  
• I had a really helpful and empowering voice lesson. And I realized that I'm good at this. I have a lot to do, but I've come a long way in the last year (with the help of some wonderful folks) and I'm really excited to continue to work hard and get really good at it.
  
• I've accepted myself in the Now. Improvement and self-actualization are on-going goals. But the journey really is exciting in itself, and I'm interested in validating myself as I go. I'm working hard. And it's just as important as the end results.
  
• I auditioned for another commercial and was not nervous even at all. Instead, I'm able to take it exactly as seriously as I need to and keep it in perspective.
  
• I blogged twice.

 I'm really glad I started this little weekly tradition.

aiming to self-actualize

"Authenticity requires a certain measure of vulnerability, transparency, and integrity."

-- Janet Louise Stephenson

I started reading The Princess Diaries around the time the movie came out. I read them through college. It's a whole series, really quite charming (more charming than the movie, though I love the movie and it's terrible sequel), focused on an ordinary girl finding herself in extraordinary circumstances and trying to self-actualize through it all.

The idea of self-actualizing has stuck with me. It's always been my goal. To me, it means more than simply becoming the best I can be. To me, it means becoming the best I am meant to be.

As I've gotten older, I realize all my ideas and ideals tied into becoming self-actualized really have to do with becoming an authentic self. Recognize your truth and live it. Be nice to people. Don't lie, especially not to get ahead. Accept yourself and others.

I love the quote at the top of this post, outlining the ingredients of authenticity. I like that there are three simple steps. It's not all that hard. As a society, we tend to seek "simple" foods, "simple" toiletries because it means they're more pure. Three simple steps to becoming purely authentic. I'll take it.

I feel like I'm a pretty vulnerable person. My personality combined with my job (where people decide for me how much I deserve to earn) and my career (which is subjective and expects people to have opinions about my talent or even myself as a person based on whether or not they like a performance) puts me out there pretty regularly. I try to be approachable and open honest lines of communication. I allow myself to be vulnerable.

Integrity has been an interesting journey for me. I have, in my past, been wont to lie for reasons that don't particularly matter. I've been caught. I've been treated for and am working on my impulsiveness that has lead me to behave in ways that aren't flattering. I've had to learn what integrity really means, to me and to others. In my work, it involves not stealing money. In my profession, it involves being true to the character I am playing-- not playing for laughs, not acting outside the realm of the role's reality. I have worked to define and live with integrity.

Lately, I've been overwhelmed with the need to add the last part of authenticity to my life. I seek to be transparent.

I don't mean vapid. I don't want to get away with things and then shrug my shoulders because at least I'm owning it. I mean, I guess that's part of it-- to own my life, to own my choices, to accept them as mine and not blame others. But I don't want to be insensitive or obnoxious about it.

What I mean is, I don't want to talk about people behind their backs. I don't want to be talked about. I don't want to say things to others that I wouldn't say to the person involved. I don't want to talk about how I know that he knows that I said something that he thinks is terrible so he told someone else about what I maybe did but he doesn't want me to know that he knows or that he told but meanwhile someone tells me he knows and told but please don't tell him I know that he knows because this other person also knows.

Are you kidding?

I'm not kidding.

I seem to find myself in the middle of these situations a lot lately. Maybe it's the culture I'm a part of. The subjective nature of my business and the needful presence of critics opens the door for people to kind of just say whatever they think without consequence. I'm a part of it too. I hate it, but I know I am. And I feel awful for participating.

But what I guess I mean to say is, I don't want to be a part of that anymore. I don't want to be a part of lying. I don't want to protect people who lie. I don't want to put words in peoples' mouths and I don't want to have words put into my mouth.

I don't want people to think I'm going to judge them. That I am judging them.

I struggle most of all with the knowledge that people think I'm going to judge them. I see myself as a very open, trusting person. I'm pretty good at recognizing my own mistakes and don't blame others for making mistakes of their own. It is not up to me to judge someone for a mistake or choice or lifestyle or opinion. I don't care if our mistakes or choices or lifestyles or opinions differ.

Bottom line: I feel like people are slipping away from me and I hate it. Maybe it's just another one of those times in life where I come to a crossroads and the most important people stay and the less important people go another direction and it's just part of life. Maybe we're there. I don't feel like there's been any particularly earth-shattering, life changing events in my life that would force me to such a crossroads, but maybe I'm there and I just need to face that.

But I want to change myself in the meantime.

I don't want to have to defend myself and defend the fact that I'm a nice, understanding, communicative person. How nice, understanding or communicative can I possibly be if I'm defensive about it?

I want to be considered honest but kind. I want to be considered a good friend. I want people to feel like they can talk to me without judgement.

I don't want people to assume I'm not going to like them for a choice they've made-- but never talk to me about it.

I don't want people to tell other people that I hate them-- when I've never talked to them about it.

I don't want people to assume I look down on them for making choices I choose not to make and jump to conclusions-- without having ever told me about their new life or choices or ideals.

I don't want to shock people with ideas or opinions that I consider to be honest but they consider to be rude. It's weird to me that I seem to shock people, because I really feel like I'm just being honest but somehow things misfire and there's a web of misunderstanding that we're all caught in until suddenly it's fixed and we're friends again. I don't want to cause misunderstanding. I want to avoid people's aversions to me, causing them to require some space before coming to understand what I meant in the first place and then we go along as if nothing happened. I need to address that things have happened. I need to fix it. I need to suck the poison from my life before it becomes poison.

I'm going to try really hard to stop shooting my mouth off. I'm going to try really hard to address a problem immediately before it snowballs into something it never should have been. I'm going to stop finding myself in the middle of other peoples' problems. I'm going to smile more. I'm going to tell people nice things more frequently. I'm going to be thoughtful and go straight to the source when there's a problem.

An arrow has to be pulled back before it can shoot forward.

I'm finished pulling myself back.

I'm finished being inauthentic to anyone, especially myself.

I can do hard things 2

• I posted a long blog. It outlined a lot of my feelings. It made me feel like a writer again and opened myself up for criticism and misunderstanding. But mostly people understood me. A lot of my recent friends don't know that I'm okay at writing. Now they know a little bit.
• I filmed a commercial and it was an overnight shoot. It's mostly scary and hard because I'm not really sure how I'm going to look in it. I think I might look kind of goofy. But I did it and I was awake for like 36 hours and I didn't fall asleep at the wheel on my way home. 
• I resolved to lead a more transparent life. I'm composing a post about this but I've started taking steps to do this-- to be honest, open, truthful. I don't really care if people lie to each other. But I don't want to be lied to, so I refuse to lie to others. I want people to know exactly who I am without having to clarify or explain myself. I want to be transparent. 
• I was kind of a manager at work sort of. It didn't suck and I wasn't the total worst. Only a little bit the worst. 
• I didn't take any heart pills. Getting my anxiety under control. Blammo. I did start some melatonin and have been regular about my oils. Feeling good. 
• I accepted that I haven't been good at crossfit in the last few weeks and will be returning this week. I can lift heavy things. I can push myself. I can reach my goals.

thoughts on this show

Not that I need to disclaim anything to the twelve people who read this blog, but I feel the need to mention that I began this post last night, well before the most recent (and, frankly, most scathing) review of our little production was published. This is in no way a response to any review, merely the conglomeration of thoughts over the last few months.

It is a very interesting thing to be part of a phenomenon.

I use that word carefully. I don't mean to say I am a phenomenon, or that my peers are a phenomenon (though I openly suggest they are phenomenal), or even that this production I am a part of is an unmatchable phenomenon.

What I mean is, Les Miserables, in and of itself, is a phenomenon. And it is interesting to be a part of it, in my own small, local way.

I confess that I have not particularly bought into the phenomenon of it. I didn't ever really "get it" the way most people seem to. I wasn't raised on it. I haven't known every word of the show since I was a kid. I haven't seen every possible production available for me to see.

Don't get me wrong, I'm familiar. I was a high school drama kid. I sang a Les Mis medley in 7th grade the same way all middle school choirs did. I saw the movie. I watched some concert versions. I appreciate that people faint about it. It just hasn't been my personal end-all-be-all.

All this being said, there has been phenomenon surrounding Hale Centre Theatre's production of this show since before it was announced as part of the 2014 season. Hundreds of people auditioned. The audition and callback process was arduous, intense, at times heart-wrenching and filled with defense. It seemed ludicrous and amazing that there was such hype and anxiety and expectation surrounding a production-- any production.

To me, that also meant the process would be packed with possibility for something potentially special. The sheer amount of emotion involved-- positive and most certainly negative-- has been overwhelming for me from the start.

Overwhelming from before the start.

But people were, and have been, taking it seriously. Which is why I wanted to be a part of it. I know it would be special, I knew it would be serious. Who wouldn't be excited about that?

And people have taken this seriously. Our entire cast has been more prepared from the very first rehearsal of any production I've been a part of. People have worked. And when something didn't work, they worked harder. And worked harder again. And changed it, and worked more.

I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have seen some of my peers' most brilliant, vulnerable, lovely performances in rehearsals and this first week of performances. We have cried. We have laughed. Always conscious of the expectation.

I'd be lying if I haven't worried-- agonized?-- over the expectation. Not even necessarily of the show on a whole, but of my particular role. I am genuinely surprised as anyone that I was actually cast as Madame Thenardier. I have read the book. I am more than conscious of casting precedent. It goes without saying how this role is "usually" cast, and I understand I am not "usual." I am grateful and humbled for the opportunity. I know that it very easily could have been someone else.

The same goes with members of our cast in roles with equal (or more) precedent. No one involved is blithely unaware that they may be "against type" or "too young" or "unusual."

Because there has been this looming expectation.

Which people seem to feel incredibly inclined to share.

And I get it. This is one of the most beloved musicals of all time-- perhaps the most beloved. It has been playing for 30 years. There have been revivals upon revivals. There have been tours upon tours. Everyone knows this piece. Everyone has strong feelings (in some cases, it seems, extremely negative) about this piece. Everyone feels some amount of ownership, especially since the release of the movie last year. I think the personal ownership people feel about this story and this music is profound. This is what art is about. It's about reaching people. It's about conversation. It's about history and society.

And yet, the frequency with which local people have weighed in with such low expectation has been discouraging.

In truth, the feeling is that people (not all, but some very vocal) have hoped this would fail.

Fail!

Of all things in this world to hope for failure, what a silly thing!

But the expectation! The incredibly transparent distaste for people involved or the theater we are working at; the years of school, training and experience in varying levels of professionalism providing people the "right" to dissect casting and production value; the fact that "I have loved this musical since I was nine and IT IS MY DREAM SHOW"-- so many facets of why people are filled with expectation.

Which leads them to talk about it.

And it gets nasty, if I'm being honest.

That there was an expectation for it to fail before it even opened-- well I'm afraid that says a lot more about the viewer than it does the cast or directors or producers or design team or the theater.

If a person HATES the show to begin with and resents the hype around it-- they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

If a person resents the specific theater community, how they operate and feel in competition with their business-- they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

If a person is jealous they weren't cast and feels the people who were cast aren't right for the parts they got-- even if they're at all correct (which is a different discussion all together), they've already made up their mind about our production before they've seen it.

It's so incredibly vapid.

And sad.

Because this theater fosters good work. They strive to tell stories, sound pretty, look good, and touch hearts, exactly the way any other theater company strives to. And they're good at it. Whether you like their seasons, their productions, their talent, 23,000+ season ticket holders means they're doing something right, even if it's not to your taste.

I get it-- I understand that it's impossible to please everyone. I've never expected to please everyone. Since the moment I got my casting call, I have been armed with the confident knowledge that there will be people (perhaps many, perhaps few, perhaps my own friends and cast mates) who don't like what I do or how I portray this character. The fact is, I've made choices for this role based on my age, based on my experience, based on my comparison of the character in the novel versus the musical. If people don't prefer it, that's not on me, especially because I know I've done everything in my very own small power to satisfy all of those people and, perhaps most importantly, myself.

A woman the other night, whom I've never laid eyes on, told me bluntly that she loved the show but that I am far too thin for the part.

(Considering this is the first time I have ever been accused of being too thin, I refuse to take it as the genuine criticism the intended it to be!)

It's not my problem if people don't like me.

My overall success ultimately has nothing to do with an audience's opinion. Even a reviewer's.

I'm just baffled by how outspoken people have been and are being about their seeming disgust for this production.

Another fascinating aspect of the expectation is the constant comparison-- to other productions of this musical, to the movie, to other people who auditioned, to other musicals being produced in the area which have nothing to do with Les Mis and that have every right to receive praise and attention in their own right.

Our team is not comparing ourselves to any other local shows. Our cast is not saying we are the #1 show in the area. We do not think our show is the only one worth seeing, nor do we think the production value is so great that all other theaters pale by comparison. It's simply not true. There is beautiful, important work being produced all throughout the valley. The hype and expectation surrounding and unnecessary comparisons to Les Mis has, in most cases, generally been thrown at us, bewilderingly.

Ultimately, I am quite proud of the work we have done and the pains that have been taken to make this story accessible and as unique as the combination of center stage, over-familiar music, and details specific to the novel and script will allow. I'm proud that tickets are hard to come by. I'm proud that people have such strong opinions. If it were worthless drivel, no one would care to have strong opinions, which tells me there is value to this production.

We have had months of anticipation and criticism. I know over the next two months, we'll continue to receive direct criticism.

But when people applaud and rise to their feet before the last note of the show is finished being sung, suddenly--

--it's quite moving to be a part of a phenomenon.

i can do hard things

It's been a while since I posted.

More than a while.

I should have been updating for the last year, because things have been pretty great.

I was in four shows in 2013 and I directed one.

I signed with an agent and have done some acting jobs. I am an actor.

That one performed at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, so Ames and I went to England and Scotland and France and we saw a TON of theatre.

I held down a job (the same job) for more than a year and was rewarded with a shiny gold pin. This job supports me being an actor.

I also do Cross Fit now, which probably sounds really bad-a and I guess it is, even though I'm still kind of beginner-y. Someday I'll lift really heavy things, but in the meantime I just lift normal-weighted things.

For 2014 I'm trying to do this thing where I say "yes and" to the world. I'm trying to do hard things, self-actualize (my goal since 2009 and forever before then), and become an all-around good person. I want to be brave. I want to be kind. I want to be known for my kindness and not for unkindness or (worse) indifference.

I want to do hard things.

I'd also like to blog more because I miss blogging and it's something I should be doing, for myself and for posterity (mine or other peoples'). I have felt like I don't have much to say or anything interesting to write about or maybe I can't even write very well anymore at all, so I stopped. But I want to start writing again.

So I'm aiming to blog once a week about the hard things I've done-- hard for me, anyway. I'm sure my challenges are mostly lame and reek of privilege but it's my life and I want to make it my best one. A weekly self-empowerment wrap up.

SO-- this week I...

• Hugged people. I used to be a huggy person, but I haven't been for years for some reason. But I'm trying really hard to show physical affection for people, especially ones I like. So I hugged a lot of them. In some cases, I even hugged them a lot of times.
  
• Cried. The beginning of the week was hard for me, I guess you could say. I'm finding challenges in my life that I've not had to face before and frankly never thought I'd have to. Also being in the cast of Les Miserables has made me extremely sensitive-- I hope it's making me more compassionate. I don't want to be a crying baby all the time, but it's okay to feel things. Maybe I need to write about my feelings more so I can channel the feelings a little more.
  
• Went out for hours at a time with and around other humans not wearing eye makeup. This is literally something I have not done for years and it made me nervous for only one second. But you know, the crazy thing about exercising a lot and getting in touch with what's great about me, I don't really need the makeup. This is huge for me. And probably has much to do with the fact that I am pretty ugly in the show so clean skin without eye makeup really isn't all that bad after a whole day of purply dark circles under my eyes. A major achievement.
  
• Blogged. High five, blogosphere. I'm back.