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?
21 April 2012
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.
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