where did I leave off?

Hi.

I've meant to update more than I have been.

The truth is, the last week has been hard.

Not hard like Week 1, because that was SO HARD.

It's been hard like-- well, Drew left a week ago. So obviously that's Hard #1. But also, we got so much done (because all we do is win win win, no matter what what) and now I don't have much to do until school starts. I don't really have friends around, and I'm not moved into my house yet, so I'm kind of in limbo.

But it's ok. Because I realize on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis-- I live here. I live in England. And that makes things a lot better.

So let's see-- the last time I updated I had just gotten the house. I've since signed for it and move in on September 29. Huzzah. It is rather enormous and much more house than I ever expected to be able to have while I'm over here, but it comes 100% furnished (to the point that my new landlord told me not to buy basically anything unless I ask her if she has something already because she's apparently got so much furniture and appliances and things, which is awesome) and it's in a gorgeous, clean neighborhood, and the train is 6 minutes away, making school exactly 18 minutes from my house.

Drew and I spent a few days in London. It was pretty amazing. We were able to see a few things that I've never done before (Buckingham Palace tour, London Eye, Royal Albert Hall tour during the dress rehearsal for the final evening of Proms, Shoes exhibit at the V&A) and we saw Matilda, which had us both in tears multiple times. We also had tea at the National Theatre and the food was all based around different plays. It was quite a delight. I wish we had had more time in London, but there will be other trips.

In fact, yesterday was my birthday so I popped down to London for the day.

(I get to say that. Can you believe it? I can't.)

I did a bit of shopping and a lot of strolling, then I saw The Beaux Strategum at the National, which I loved, and then had dinner with Nate Copier before I popped home. It was a splendid day to welcome 29.

I got enroled for school this week. It has been such a process. But I finally have my permanent student visa and my school ID, so we'll leave it at that because that's what matters.

I've got a cold and what may be the start of a sinus infection. Here's hoping it's not, since I've got a little performance to do with my class on September 30. We'll be doing a classical monologue, a contrasting monologue and a song. We can do our audition pieces but I think I'll only do one of mine-- Mrs. Lunn from Overruled. I've been looking at the Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, come speech from HENRY VI part III and I'll be singing Stay With Me from INTO THE WOODS. I'm nervous for the performance, which I know is silly because I've already been accepted, so it's not like a test. But it is a checkpoint from which they can kind of grade my progress and it's the first real big introduction to each other in the class, so I want to make sure it's a good representation of me and what I can do and why I'm here. I want to do good work so they can tear me apart for the rest of the year.

The play I saw yesterday is a Restoration era comedy, which is a time period I'll be studying in the coming year, presented at my favorite theatre. For most of last year, until I got a new phone in March or so, I had the house of the Olivier Theatre at the National as the background of my phone-- the view from the stage, not the view from the audience, so that every time I looked at my phone, I would be able to visualize the view I want to see of that space. I had tickets on the fourth row yesterday and it wasn't until I was sitting there, eight feet from the stage, that I even remembered that phone photo. It felt very close, all of a sudden. Not necessarily tomorrow close, or next year close, or even ten years from now close, but it felt closer than it ever has.

I live here. I live in England.

And I'm an actress.

I'm doing it.

cheers, i live in England now.

It is a true thing that the English say "cheers." 

All.

The.

Time.

Hi = cheers. Bye = cheers. Thanks = cheers. Um = cheers. Cheers = cheers. 

Drew and I decided it's so universally English that it wouldn't be fair to say until I can officially claim my temporary English status. 

It has been a long, hard week. The longest, hardest week. I have had a few long, hard weeks in the last few years and this absolutely tops the list. As moving tends to do, the mop-up-clean-up of moving out of my apartment in Provo and getting packed up to fly across the world proved to be a more lengthy process than I had hoped. By Tuesday afternoon I just adopted an attitude of "who cares, throw it away" rather than try to pack up the ends of things, whether to take with me or to put in storage. I'm amazed by how much stuff I have parted with in the last 18-months and yet more seems to accumulate. It has inspired me to try not to accumulate more stuff in the next two years because dealing with stuff is so frustrating and obnoxious. And wasteful. But I digress... 

Tuesday night my parents and Drew helped me pack and repack and repack and repack and repack my luggage. I was aiming to bring 2 checked bags and a carry-on plus a backpack and two cats in their kennels. I ended up bringing 4 checked bags and a carry-on plus a backpack and two cats in their kennels and also a corner of Drew's carry-on. 

It's fine...

But I brought with me a whole black wardrobe to wear as a terribly serious acting student and winter clothes and all sorts of things that I'm trying quite hard not to need to buy in the UK, and as shipping is so much more expensive, coughing out a few extra hundred dollars for a few extra bags for two years of my life I guess is a pretty good deal. 

The biggest thing I have learned this week is that it pays BIG TIME to DO YOUR HOMEWORK. I will probably write a more in-depth post about this another time, but I spent months and months researching and reading and comparing checklists and I'm so incredibly glad I did. I am so grateful for my mom, who is the best planner I know and from whom I learned anything about traveling. I did a lot of groundwork in ensuring my kitties would be able to travel with me and that all their paperwork was in order before we dropped them off at cargo for their flight. They had to go on their own flight through Houston so they could travel together. It terrified me out of my mind for all of the reasons, not the least of which is how legendarily difficult it is to migrate animals to the UK. In practice however, it was so easy. Like, we dropped them off and paid for cargo/customs fees ("Expensive cats," the cargo rep said to me snidely as I paid. Take my money and shut up, I thought to myself.) , and the United Airlines cargo people took them back to the holding area, and it was done. An hour later we watched them get loaded onto their plane at the gate next to ours and I nearly cried (ok I definitely did) when i saw little Lucille 2's ears perking up in the windows of her kennel. 

Then we got on our plane and flew to Chicago. We had Chili's express for my last meal in the USA and then I got a manicure while Drew had a chair massage. Then we flew to London which was, in spite of the fact that we were in the middle of the plane and couldn't see out the windows, so easy. We arrived at Heathrow at 5:55AM and getting through customs was EASY. The chap checking my paperwork made jokes and was so cheerful. We collected all the bags easily-- they came rolling along almost all together, in fact. Tossed them onto a trolly and got on a shuttle to rent a car. That part was a little less easy, but to be fair, the actual car rental part of the trip was the part we did the least amount of research about. And also in fairness, we had a reservation and we also knew exactly what paperwork we'd need (USA passport and current driver's license), it was just a bit overwhelming to avoid all the up-selling at 7AM. But we got the car, we got it packed PERFECTLY, and we got on the road with GPS and drove straight to Stonehenge. 

STONEHENGE. 

Off the plane and straight to Stonehenge. 

Drew did so amazingly well driving, especially all things considered (the early hour, having never been to the UK/Europe before, not knowing what to expect with the roads and driving culture, and without any experience on my part). We stopped at a McDonald's (obviously...) and were greeted by the Stonehenge cows and sheep, and then changed clothes, and then wandered about gd Stonehenge.

Welcome to the UK, Drew!!

We also popped into Salisbury for a moment and I fell in love. Salisbury Cathedral is the first giant, ancient, European cathedral Drew has ever seen, but even with my experience, it was overwhelming and inspiring and a wonderful way to being my adventure in this country. 

We popped back to collect the cats from the Heathrow Animal Reception Centre. I've read amazing things about the centre but again, I just kind of didn't know what to expect. The internet and people's experiences make it seem like such a relatively strenuous experience, and being a worrier, I just wanted everything to be fine.

So we arrived (for anyone stopping by the Centre in the future, it is TINY and the carpark is TINY and it all requires some clever driving/parking) and stopped in where a lovely girl came out to greet us. I started to say, "I'm Emily, I'm here to collect...." and she finished my sentence, "Two cats, Lucille and Jenner? Yeah, they're all ready, they just need to be loaded back in their kennels." I guess they were just fine and were let out for a good stretch, and they ate (all of) their food I had packed for them, and they passed their health inspections with flying colors. I signed the sign-in sheet, the staff brought them out, we had a minute to reunite in the lobby, and then we left.

IT WAS SO EASY.

The rest of our week hasn't been quite so easy, and I guess it's to be expected. I had three real goals to accomplish while Drew was here with me, namely: 1. get a local mobile phone. 2. open a UK bank account. 3. let a property. I had really hoped, in my American ignorance, that we'd be able to work quickly in getting it done....

Which is where it stopped being easy.

Friday and Saturday were basically wasted, aside from learning experiences, I guess. In spite of my (extensive) preparation, problems have really stemmed from a lack of proof of UK address. I'm staying with the loveliest friends in the world the Cartwrights (even though they're in Utah at the moment) until I find a place of my own, but I sadly underestimated my need to have their address on any of my paperwork. It was on my visa application, but I can't collect my permanent visa from school until my specifically assigned "enrolment" day, and the rest of my paperwork has my permanent UT address all over it. Don't worry-- the cats immigration paperwork has the Cartwright's address but apparently the UK government doesn't accept pet immigration papers as proof of address for an international student.... Go figure.... Just kidding, I totally get it, even though I also don't get it at all. 

Another challenge has been that UK banks require an appointment to open accounts. There's nothing really like just walking into a bank and opening an account, especially not in the middle of a giant city, especially not a month before school starts and there are one million new students milling around. We basically couldn't find a bank branch with an available appointment within less than three or four WEEKS. This does not appeal to our American sense of efficiency. 

And finally, the go-around is maddening. Essentially I couldn't get a bank account without proof of address, but most branches are incredibly specific about proof of address, meaning they want a utility bill or a letting contract, which means I'd need a house to let, but a lot of letting agencies (which represent a very large majority of available rental properties) require bank information as part of their referencing process. And in both cases, it's needful for banks and agencies to have a UK phone number on file, and a contract requires bank information (but no proof of address-- since by having a bank account, your address has been confirmed-- so at least there's that............. oh brother). We ended up getting SIM cards for our iPhones, which was incredibly helpful and solved at least part of the problem, but felt like really only half a solution to goal #1. 

By Saturday night, I was pretty done. We came back to the Cartwrights and I snuggled the kitties. The only true constant positive of my adventure so far has been how well Jenna and Lucille 2 have adjusted. They are so happy here. I don't know if it's the air, or if it's the fact that they survived a harrowing travel experience only to have solid confirmation that I will never abandon them, or if they just understand that they need to be good, or all of the above, but they are so content. They're eating better than they have in months, really. And even that-- I got a small bag of food to try for them, assuming I'd have to try a few before we found something they'd like since they're used to their food from home, but the first flavor of the first brand we tried has been a HIT. They LOVE it and I think they've even gained a little bit of weight, which doesn't hurt either of them. I'm so so so so so so so happy they're here. Drew has been so supportive and smart this whole trip, but there's just something about their little happy faces that has made me feel like everything truly will work out, even if it's just not as quickly as I had hoped or anticipated. 

Sunday we took a mental and urban break by heading to the Belfry for Drew to play golf on their PGA course. It was really nice to get out and just breathe and enjoy more of the countryside. And it helped us make a game plan for the rest of the week, since we have plans to head to London on Thursday before Drew flies to Utah on Sunday. 

Our motto yesterday and today has been "ALL I DO IS WIN (win win), NO MATTER WHAT (what): earn the right to say cheers." 

Using our American-ness to our advantage, we have managed since Sunday night to:

• Find a bank account appointment 56 minutes away in Stafford for this morning at a Barclays, which was in my top two preferences for UK banking. 
• Secure a special letter of admission from my admissions counselor which, while it doesn't say I've enroled yet (because I haven't till September 25, which is non-negotiable), it does say I will be enroled, and lists my local address on BCU letterhead. 
• Email one million local listings on airbnb (Drew's idea, since letting agencies have turned up not much in the months I've been trying to communicate with them) with a terrific introduction to me as a person to see if anyone would be interested in long-term bookings. 
• Visit a number of agencies in person to register my information and view a few properties in my preferred neighborhoods and within my preferred budget. 
• Ramble around campus and Drew got a free Red Bull from the door guy while we waited to meet with a rep from the international student office. 
• Get a visitor pass to use the computer lab on campus, even though I don't have my student ID yet. 
• Meet the lady who responded quite positively to our inquiry on airbnb, see the house, and FELL IN LOVE, leaving with a solid meeting sign paperwork and a loose outline of when I can move in to my very own house in a very gorgeous/clean/safe neighborhood with a cat door (if I want to use it) and a bathtub and no additional pet deposit!!!
• Eat Five Guys in front of a giant church.
• Experience our first true grey and foggy English day (beautiful, but sinus headache-inducing). 
• Attend my bank appointment where they took my shiny new admissions letter as sufficient proof and granted me an account! 
• Made a deposit into my shiny new bank account. 
• Visit the largest Elizabethan timber home in England. 
• Get a new phone. 
• Get a permanent SIM card and phone plan (with unlimited data and texting). 
• Determine when my house will be available to move in. 
• Eat a caramel and shortbread flapjack, and drink a pint of Diet Coke. 
• Have a bunch of English people be just enchanted with our American accents.

I'm missing a whole lot of details in here which I'm sure I'll come back to at some point, but to conclude for now--

Good night, blogland. CHEERS!

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.