Assessed

(Newbie, All-The-Way, and me as "The New Three Graces" at our Movement Showing. 12/04/09)


I won't lie: I was scared going into assessments this semester. Assessments come at the end of the semester, and you sit in a room with all your professors (past and present), and they read written statements about your work during the semester (in the classroom and on stage). My assessments went well my first and second semesters here, so really, I don't know why I was worried. But I was.

The first 6 weeks of Movement class were hard on me because the stretching unit was a big ball of frustration for me, a person who is generally TOO stretched out. And in both my Acting and Voice classes, we went through units of Shakespeare scansion in which we're using methods that are both occasionally contradictory to each other, and are also quite different from my previous training on the subject (training that I regard highly and deem to be quite excellent... which made me unintentionally resistant to the subject matter at times).

And on top of that, I didn't get great casting this year. And I still don't know why. I just keep thinking that I'm doing something wrong, or angering someone... It has made me incredibly insecure.

But to quote the Spice Girls, "all you need is positivity." And that's the state of mind I'm living in now. Assessments went really, very well for me again this semester. And I'm relieved.

I know it's bad form to brag. So that's why I do it on this blog; so I won't be tempted to do it in life.

You've been warned. If you don't want to read all the lovely and positive things that my professors said about my work this semester, then stop reading now. :)

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Some quotations from my assessments (and these are word for word, because they give us printed copies of what they say to us):

"Angela, you are the perfect student."

"The MFA review panel has identified the following as areas of strength: work ethic, application, enthusiasm, intelligence"

"Angela, I'm happy to congratulate you for an excellent semester's work. You're starting to put it all together: your huge dramatic imagination, your ability to tap into deep pools of feeling, growing technical excellence, a fanatical interest in the rules of scansion, and a sense of humor. You are charismatic on the stage because you take joy in performing. I, for one, can't get enough of you."

"Strong choices, strong opinions. This is very impressive in one so young."

"...you've made good progress since working on Andromache - a performance, by the way, that was perfectly beautiful."

"I have high hopes for you, Angela. Keep up the good work."

"Your speech work is clear and precise, and this semester I can hear you truly beginning to integrate speech into your voice so that it sounds natural; speech that has ease and accuracy."

"Based on your transcription and spoken R.P. dialect work, you obviously seem to have a very good ear and are proficient at learning dialect - this will be invaluable as we move into more complex dialect work next semester!" (Note: She also wrote that I got 100% on my written R.P. exam, and 100% on my spoken R.P. dialect exam)

"Beautiful, accurate work in both scoring and speaking a scored Shakespeare text!"

"You were a bit uncertain about some of the Shakespeare scoring, but you were willing to take my corrections and ultimately to keep a flexible, open mind."

"You come to voice class ready to work and enthusiastic about the work."

(on a show we did for Acting class)
"...breath, vocal production, forward placement, clarity and use of speech - in all these aspects you applied the techniques of voice class to your work on the stage. Your voice was expressive, integrated both body resonance and head resonance, was linked to impulse, and played your pitch ladder freely - truly excellent vocal work!"

(on the show I was in this semester)
"...throughout the rehearsal process, dress runs, preview, you took all voice/speech notes and made successful adjustments. You were able to find and se new character motivated vocal choices skillfully. And you maintained your good work throughout the run of the show."

"Angela, a wonderful semester!"

"Angela is very playful in contact improv. She is generally in control of her body, very willing to take weight and lift others, and is comfortable being lifted."

"She is breathing very well, and her alignment is stable in movement class, which is a great accomplishment."

"In ballet she is beginning to find her way into technique - when she gets the line it is perfect. She has a perfect body for ballet..."

"...her love of dancing and movement across the spectrum is infectious, and her ability to do new things safely has grown exponentially since last year. She is also a good partner in both contact and dance, and I look forward to her work in commedia, renaissance, and baroque dance, where her ability to act the dance will play to her advantage."

"One other thing, Angela has beautiful arms and hands and I encourage her to use them."

"A lovely semester."


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And (since I know you were at the brink of hating me for all the bragging) here are the things I wasn't great at, and things that I get to work on in the coming semester:

"The MFA Review Panel identified the following as areas needing improvement: committing to subtler choices"

"Now we must work on subtlety and nuance. You gravitate toward hardness and toughness. But if you want to be a contender in the Leading Lady Sweepstakes, which is your destiny, you must also prove that you can play characters who aren't so sure of themselves, who don't have all the answers, or who are out of balance. And you must be able to play women in whom a kind of feminine refinement is an essential ingredient."

"Angela started out the semester frustrated with the differences between her body and the bodies of others: she is much looser than most people and so didn't always feel the resistance stretches as easily as her classmates (lifting weights is a more useful strength building technique for her) and became frustrated. She solved this issue on her own."

"She often locked her knees in [play]. This may have been a result of shoes that were too big, but in any case it is an old pattern to watch out for because it throws her into lordosis, head pushing, pushing her chest forward."

"...needs to increase her overall strength and awareness of what she is doing, specifically with her limbs. She has made great improvement in this area, but could do more on her own by using a mirror, looking at what she is doing from the front and what she is doing from the side."


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Sometimes, you need to be told that you're doing alright.

I'm glad that I am.


May you be better than alright.

~A~


P.S. Don't you wish I blogged more? If I get a 20SB Bootleg Award Nomination, I'll try to do just that. :) My 20SB URL is http://www.20sb.net/profile/angelaboration

A Year's Progress

So last year in my post Unresolved, I discussed my resolutions for 2008. Here's how I did...


- Make a conscious effort to call my brothers more often.
Yeah, so I sucked at this. And I did better with one brother than the other. Maybe I should make this resolution again for 2009?
FAIL


- Be more physically active.
I did this for awhile, actually. When I was living in Chicago, I started walking more, and I took 14 flights of stairs in my skyscraper office at least once a day up-and-down (sometimes 2 or 3 times). Being active has been harder in Florida, but I do have to jump rope for 5 minutes a day when I have movement class. So am I amazingly active? No. But am I more active than I was in 2007? Yes.
WIN


- Learn to accept compliments with more grace.
This is definitely the thing I've done best with. Just ask Brian. I can accept compliments like a pro these days. You should have seen me at my Assessment. I handled the praise really well.
WIN


- - Memorize the correct spellings of excersize, maitenance (maintainence), and immeadiately.
I just gave myself a spelling test. I got "exercise", "maintenance", "immediately", "pursue", "separate", and "desperate" correct! But it took me 4 tries to spell "corduroy" correctly (my first three guesses were courderoy, corderoy, and courduroy). But 6/7 is pretty darn good! I've really focused on those first three, and I nailed 'em.
WIN


- Finish my NaNoWriMo novel.
I'm really disappointed that I haven't been able to do this. I'm sure some of my readers are as well... But I just couldn't. I have other priorities.
FAIL


- Figure out what I want to do with my life.
I want to be an actor. I don't just want it; I feel it. I need it. It's not a choice; it's the ONLY choice.

And yes, I still think I'm going to hate the business part of it, but my need to be an artist is going to drown that out.

Since I've gotten to grad school, I've realized just how important this is to me. I'm willing to sacrifice financial security. I'm willing to sacrifice weekends. I'm going to sacrifice having a family. I'm willing to sacrifice love.

I'm not just acting for me anymore. I'm acting because it's my civil service. I'm truly acting because I'm trying to change the world.

WIN -- A thousand times win.


Final score:
WIN 4, FAIL 2.



May you learn what's important to you.

~A~

Baby's First Assessment

I had my first assessment Thursday. Which means that I sat in a room with my Acting Professor, my Analysis Professor (who is the head of the program), my Voice Professor, my Movement Professor, my Tech supervisor, and the 2nd-year Acting Professor, while they all told me how they thought I did this semester. They each read aloud from their (long) written statements, and gave me copies to keep when it was over.

I was nervous going in. I'd heard that these often end in tears (and that tissues are provided). I'd heard that they just tell you everything you're doing wrong. I've also heard that it's when you find out if you're being put on probation or asked to leave the program. And while I really shouldn't have had reason to worry about these things, I'm the kind of person who feels the need to worry anyway.

But I needn't have worried. Here's some of what they had to say... (those written copies are totally handy... I put my favorites in bold)




"The MFA Review panel identified the following as areas of strength: Persistence, and focused work. Excellent growth."

On "What the actor's physical instrument is, in physiological and artistic terms":
"Angela understands this very clearly and connects all assignments and exercises directly to acting work."

"She is very, very flexible"

"Angela has a vivid imagination and found 'meditation for actors' and 'dropping into coherence' easy by using visual and breath techniques."

"She handled the large class well."

"Range of motion and flexibility are very wide."

On "Identify what an acting impulse is, in physiological and artistic terms, and explore and amplify those impulses in Movement Class and Acting Class, with expressive and artistic purpose":
"Angela does this well."

"All Viewpoints work was free and connected to the ensemble."

"Angela is that rare actor who truly enjoys receiving notes and jumping in to implement them immediately."

"In the morning etude session she took adjustments and applied them immediately."

"Angela's self-evaluation was accurate."

"She is an excellent member of the ensemble."

"Angela has had a very good semester."

"Very good work."

"Your destructuring is progressing beautifully in all positions. More and more you are able to stay in the positions longer without fear."

"Very good rib swing. Excellent vocal support."

"You are working extremely well in voice class, and have made excellent progress this semester. You come into class prepared, and ready to work, and positive."

"In Acting Class, your application of skills from Voice Class shows important progress: your application of Standard American Speech to your acting work is very good. During the Acting I Showing, you succeeded in staying on-voice, and sending and landing consistently."

"You have always taken voice adjustments/notes, both in Voice Class and in Acting Class, with a view toward improving, and very professionally. Excellent. Keep it up!"

"Angela, a very good semester!"

"Throughout the course, you successfully rose to every occasion, including the ultimate test of staying on top of your inner-technique practice, insuring a consistent quality of work in text etudes."

"...one of the most reliable partners in your ensemble, capable of not only taking care of your own creative life onstage, but inspiring a partner to follow suit and live creatively."

"Moreover, I am convinced that you are capable of becoming one of the leaders of the ensemble, if you continue transforming your point of view on yourself as a creative artist. I observed this tendency toward artistic maturity in you throughout the final weeks of the semester, and I want to encourage it."

"Your memory of physical actions test exercise was among the strongest in the class."

"It is this very work that placed you at the top of your ensemble."

"Take advantage of the strong sensory imagination you possess."

"You are now able to build a true communion with a partner onstage and act truthfully and spontaneously within imaginary circumstances."

"...a responsive, spontaneous, and imaginative stage partner."

"...you've made some enormous strides."

"Oral presentations are always good and well prepared, and you are always ready to tackle any play that we examine in class."

"In the last few weeks, you've demonstrated a real understanding of the principles at hand and an ability to apply them to a given text, almost in spite of yourself!"

"You are now reading a play as a dramatic text, with a good understanding of authorial intention and a good sense for the subtleties of dramatic writing."

"As the semester went along, you felt more comfortable guiding class discussions. Please make sure you continue to do this -- when you do, you bring all of us to a much clearer reading of the material at hand. The class benefits from your analysis as much as you do."



Seriously, I'm hard-pressed to think of another day in my life when I've gotten so many compliments.

I'm sorry for being braggadocious, but I feel like I can't tell any of my classmates that I received such a positive review. Mostly because I don't know what sorts of reviews they got (although I get the feeling that many were not quite as overwhelmingly positive as mine). I sort of have to keep it to myself... So I'm sharing it all here.

And you know what? I'm freaking proud.



Of course, they gave me some things to work on over break (mostly my Movement Professor, as my body is mysteriously TOO loose -- the opposite of the problem that most people have).

- "She needs to amplify her understanding with hard facts about body mechanics. I suggest she get the Anatomy Coloring Book and do the skeleton with colors, and take a look at the muscles and their uses." (That's right... I'm in graduate school, and my homework is COLORING.)

- "Continuing to work on form and alignment in any stretch will help to protect her joints and back."

- On my flexibility: "...this needs addressing constantly for good use of body; in life, and for elegance and precise control onstage."

- "Her release work was hampered by one of the few tight muscle groups in her body: her inner thighs."

- "Angela needs to work on form, control, and precision of her movement in space."

- "Holding patterns present are in: head, shoulders, and knees."

- "She could now begin to play with a more subtle response to impulse. Everything has a tendency to be large in scale. This is good and appropriate for first semester in acting. In movement next semester she can work on the small shape, the smaller but still accurate and expressive response, through the movement monologue work and 'little bears'." (No, I don't know what "little bears" is.)

- "[Applying alignment work] is a challenge for Angela. Her body is impulsive, but her sensory awareness gives her too much -- or faulty -- information at times. Our job together is to figure out how to edit out unnecessary information and to figure out exactly how she can self-direct into neutrality. She should do the 'daily dozen' every day and work on her neutral walk every day. She can call me for a brief tutorial over break to check up on accuracy."

- "A slight pause between rib swing and sending, which needs to be deleted; as you become more proficient with supporting your voice you should find more flow. This will help to allow your vocal support to have ease, and in moving directly from open-the-mouth to open-the-rib to engaging-the-support-haaaaaa, without any pause."

- "Keep developing psychophysical awareness of your everyday-life actions and sensations. You sensory-type imagination will help you in this work; don't think it inferior to any other type of imagination, such as visual or auditory. Feed and nurture your physical memory and imagination; it is responsible for many of your heightened emotional stage moments."

- "Continue mastering 'the psychology of an improvising actor'."

- "As you acquire a habit for observing life and people around you and using these observations as a basis for inner characterization, trust your intuition and allow intangible things to lead you in your work over the winter break."


I know that seems like a lot, but it really isn't too bad. And all the things I need to work on were said in a positive way. And frankly, I knew that I needed to work on them.

I'm pleased as punch.


After the professors all read their statements, the head of the program said what the PROGRAM thinks of me (as opposed to individual professors). He said that I'm clearly growing, clearly working hard, and clearly talented. He said they're all excited to continue working with me, and congratulated me on such a successful first semester.

Is it wrong to want to frame my evaluations? Because I kinda do...


May you know how far you've come.

~A~


P.S. I also may have discovered my "type", if I have one. My Movement Professor says that I'm "destined to do comedies". She says I'm very funny, and that "people want to laugh" at me. We'll see if that holds true!

Secret Praise

I could've put this on my grad school blog, but a bunch of my classmates read it... and I don't want them to see this.

After a couple of weeks of shaky work in my Acting class, I finally got my courage back on Friday. And on Saturday, I got an email from my professor (something that I understand to be pretty rare from him).


Subject: Keep up the good work!


Hello Angela,

Excellent work in class yesterday. Most importantly - consistent work. Three etudes in a row - not bad. Keep exercising at home - it is paying off.

Sincerely,

[Acting Professor]



That makes me want to scream and shout. :)



May you get all the encouragement you need.

~A~

Just Adjusting

You know what I should NOT be doing right now?

Blogging.

Whoops.

I have so much to do. Cleaning. Laundry. Shopping. Homework. Reading. Research. All the errands that I promised myself that I'd run today because it's easier to do them on Mondays than any other day but that I didn't run because I really like having Mondays off and completely doing nothing...

I keep allowing the things I deem to be "life" get in the way. Buying things for my Halloween costume with Wifey. Going to group functions and gatherings for socialization. Getting caught up on Battlestar Galactica so that I can discuss it with Killer. Discussing possible casting for the 2nd-years with my roommates. Trying to figure out what the heck a "sibilant s" sound is, why I have it, and how to get rid of it.

My concept of time here is so off. I've had four weeks of classes. In many ways I feel like I just got here. Some days pass so quickly, and others last forever, and somehow they all sort of blend together. It's weird that I haven't blogged since Thursday, because I feel like I just did it yesterday, and part of me feels like it's too soon to write again.

I don't understand my relationships. I have classmates. I have colleagues. I have roommates. I have professors. But I'm not sure I feel comfortable saying that I have friends.

Right now as I was typing, there was a giant BURST of thunder. But there's no rain. This place doesn't make sense.

I think I just need more time to find my place.

We still haven't gotten our understudy assignments, and I'm getting antsy. Rumor has it that they'll be posted on Thursday or Friday.

I went to a gathering last night, mostly of 2nd-years. Two of my classmates (All-the-Way & D-Train) were there, and we stuck together for most of the night.

We started discussing our "types". All-the-Way is worried that she's going to get typed as "The Ingenue" for the next three years, and D-Train is concerned that he'll be "The Lover". I hope they don't. They're both talented and versatile, and they can do so much more than those things that they're perpetually typecast as.

I told them that, in some ways, they're lucky. They know what their types are, so they can specialize. I have no clue where I'm going to be.

They told me they think I'm a leading lady; I'm just too young to get those roles yet. All-the-Way says she sees me as strong, striking, and sexy. When I refuted the sexy part, D-Train said I have a sexy energy, but I don't know how to tap into yet. He says it's easier for me to take it to a goofy place than the sexy place, but he thinks I'll learn how to refocus it. It was all very complimentary. I wasn't really sure how to take it (as usual... accepting compliments isn't my strong suit).

We discussed some of our concerns with our class. The guy who doesn't want to be here. The inequity already evident in the way exercises are divided. And, perhaps most importantly, the sexual tension surrounding us.

The vast majority of people here are either single or away from their significant others. One of my schoolmates once suggested that we should all just make out with each other and get it out of the way. I think he was only half-joking.

It's not so much that I need affection. It's more that I'm lonely. My roommates are rarely home, so I spend most of my evenings in solitude. Which shouldn't bother me, as I lived alone in Chicago. But it does.

I wish that when classes were over, I could just drive over to someone's house, cuddle with them, vent, and then have them tell me all the stories of their day that have nothing to do with the stories from mine. Someone to be there when I need them. Someone to be proud of me. Someone to stroke my hair and tell me that everything is going to be alright.

Here venting is weird, because everyone knows exactly what you're going through. You'd think that would help... but sometimes, it just means that you feel stranger about venting. I feel so whiny and weak.

But here we start a new week, filled with new challenges. And I know that I will survive it. Just like I did the week before. Just like I plan to in the weeks to come.

That's all for now. So much reading to do, not to mention all the physical homework (when's the last time your homework involved stretching your tongue while looking in a mirror?).


May the things in your life make a little bit of sense.

~A~

In the Beginning

(The above picture was probably the last photo taken of me in Chicago. It was taken in Ed Debevic's which is a 50's themed restaurant.)

After flying from Chicago to Atlanta, and Atlanta to Florida, I got down here on Thursday the 14th around 8:30pm. The first night I swung by my condo briefly, but quickly crashed in a hotel room with my dad, never having seen my roommate. (I have two, but one is out of town right now. The other has a house managing job at the theatre.)

Friday was car shopping day. I went to seven dealers. I actually preferred another car to the Verona I ended up with (it was a Hyundai with gorgeous interior that drove easily and was a couple hundred dollars less), but I trusted the one dealership over the other. I could tell that they put their cars through a stringent certification process, and that impressed me.

Once I realized that I’d been in town for more than 24 hours and still hadn’t seen my roommate Heather, I insisted that my dad and I drive to my condo and hang out there until she came back from house managing. When she arrived, she found my dad passed out on my bed, and me asleep in a ball on the floor. She gently woke me up, sad how cute she thought it was, and then the three of us had a lovely conversation for about an hour.

As people in my class accepted their offers, the faculty put photocopies of our headshots up in the break room so that the upperclassmen could become familiar with our names and faces and get excited about who was coming. Heather said that the other students had agreed that we had an extraordinarily attractive class. She also said that we “looked like a grad school class.” I’m not entirely certain what that means, but I think it’s a good thing. We’ve got a proper mix of people, instead of looking like we’d all be cast as similar types.

Saturday morning my dad left. I went out to brunch with my delightful roommate and two other “upperclassmen” (can you call them that? That’s what I’m calling them). It was a lot of fun. They were all friendly, nice, interesting, quirky people. And I love them.

The weekend was mostly marked by the move itself. As I said before, Greyhound was a blessing. All of my boxes arrived where they were supposed to, on time or several days early, and undamaged. 27 of my boxes and my guitar all got here by Saturday (even the things I’d sent on Thursday morning before flying here). I spent a couple of days just trying to get my room in some semblance of order.

But there was a problem going on through all of those days: I think my body hates Florida, and is rebelling against me as punishment.

WARNING: Do not read next 2 paragraphs if you are squeamish.

First of all, there’s something wrong with my gums. I’ve never had huge problems with them before, except for a bit of bleeding because I have a tendency to brush too often. But no. We’re talking seriously problems. On Friday when I woke up, they were bruised. I didn’t even know gums could be bruised, but mine were. Now they’re inflamed, bleed like crazy when I try to brush them, and hurt whenever I try to bite into anything harder than a piece of overripe cantaloupe. And to add to this mouth pain, I also have a canker sore on the tip of my tongue (I didn’t know you could get them on your tongue, but I sure have one there) which I keep accidentally biting. PAIN.

I also have inflamed lymph nodes. They were so bad on Sunday that you could actually see lumps in my neck. They hurt. They hurt even more when I turned my head or tried to swallow. I also developed a sore throat, a cough, and phlegm.
NOTE TO ANYONE WHO SKIPPED THE LAST TWO PARAGRAPHS: I had a sore throat and mouth pain.

On Sunday night I had a fever. I went to bed at 8pm. I tossed and turned all night. I finally made it to the doctor yesterday. He gave me a Z-pack and ibuprofen and sent me on my way. So far, I feel absolutely no improvement. Unfortunately, I completely forgot to ask him about the mouth pain, so I still have no explanation there.

Monday was also my first day of orientation, and my first opportunity to meet my classmates. I actually only met 10 of the 11 yesterday, as one of the girls got married last week and was still driving down (but I heard she arrived today, so hopefully I’ll see her later!). One of the girls I met won’t even be in our class for the first semester. She was in the program a couple of years ago and left after one semester for family reasons. She’s coming back now, but they’re refusing to waive her tuition for the first semester because she “already used” that money, and already has grades for the semester. She’ll be joining us in January, but she came down just to meet us. I’m glad she did. It gave me a better feel for what our class will be like as a whole.

And, oh boy, we’re going to be fun. We were talking, joking, and laughing the entire time.

We learned at orientation that it's possible (nay; likely) that we might have to be here for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, as well as Easter and during our Spring Break. Why? Because we might be understudying professional actors in the Repertory theatre. Or we might have to work the box office. Or house manage. It's all part of our graduate assistant positions. In case you doubted it before, I'd say that's a pretty great example of how my grad school is not the same as going to grad school for, say Communications. Ex #1 just graduated from grad school for Comm, and he told me "Don't worry, you'll have a lot of free time on your hands in grad school." Yeah, right! I don't even get weekends! The only day a week that I get off is Monday, because that's when the theatre is dark. The rest of the week I either have classes or I'm working.

We were supposed to go on a roadtrip today (Tuesday) through Saturday to our school’s main campus (the MFA Acting program is at a satellite location). We didn’t see the value of it initially (why tour their theatres and facilities if we’re never going to use them again?), but I was looking forward to the bonding opportunity. Being together on a bus for five hours each way? Would’ve been a great “getting to know you” experience.

We’re not going. Why? Because of a tropical-storm-turned-hurricane named Fay (which The Tattooed Mama wrote about, as she and I now live in the same town). Everyone is freaking out about Hurricane Fay, and they didn’t want us to drive in it, so they decided we’d have to stay behind and take shelter.

Yesterday happened to be the birthday of one of my classmates, so we used the night as a “Birthday Party/Hurricane Party”. It was fantastic. I got to talk to most of my classmates on a personal level as opposed to a preliminary introductory one. I know about how one adopted classmate met his birth father, and how another has spent the last two months at sea on a commercial fishing boat. I got to see one classmate’s African art collection, most of which she acquired during the year that she lived in Ghana.

One of my classmates has already begun assigning the rest of us nicknames. We have “O.D.”, “Killer”, “D-Train”, “Big Show”, and the like. My nickname? I think it’s rather appropriate. They’ve decided that I should be known as “Disco”, due to the fact that I was dancing throughout the evening. One of them thinks it should be spelled “Dis-Go”, which I don’t understand. I remember responding with, “Do I look like the kind of person who disses people and leaves? I hate you. You’re such a jerk,” and promptly left the room. Luckily, he got my joke and just laughed instead of getting offended.

I’m sad to leave nicknames like “Sunshine”, “Jitterbug”, and “Ninjela” behind, but I like the idea of having a fresh start. And as far as nicknames go, I think I could do a lot worse than Disco. It is, after all, rather appropriate.

One of the guys in my class has been down here since June. He told me that the upperclassmen girls had been referring to me as “The Hottie” and saying how beautiful they thought I was. That made me so uncomfortable, I can’t even tell you. I don’t think of myself as beautiful. I don’t think of myself as ugly, either. But I’m just… me. You know? And I’m not great at accepting compliments (I’m getting better, but that’s a hard one to take… especially when it comes second hand).

I was one of the last people at the party, despite being sick. I stayed out until 3am. A handful of them stayed later, but they were the people who were used to Mountain, Pacific, and Alaska time, so it was easier for them. Considering my illness, I probably shouldn’t have stayed out that late.

I didn’t drink. Limiting my alcohol consumption is on my list of goals for grad school. I made a lot of bad (nay; VERY GOOD) decisions while intoxicated in my last couple of weeks in Chicago, so I think I’ve gotten that whole drinking thing out of my system for awhile.

I will post my list of grad school goals at a later date, and then spend the next three years of my life slowly failing at all of them.

As I’m composing this, it’s 3pm on Tuesday, and we haven’t seen any sign of Hurricane Fay. *fingers crossed* In fact, we had stranger weather my first several days in town. Completely bi-polar rain, which I was madly in love with. It would rain for brief periods of time several times a day while the sun was still shining. Glorious. It helped to comfort me.

Speaking of comfort, thank you to everyone who responded to my last post with encouragement and advice. Some of you even offered to donate items to me, which is incredibly generous of you. The only things I need right now that I haven’t purchased yet are a yoga mat and a yoga blanket, and I think I need them by a week from today. If you have one lying around that you aren't using (I'd feel even weirder and guiltier if someone went out and bought me one or gave me one that they were using), please email me at angelaboration(at)gmail(dot)com. If no one does, then I'll order them ASAP.

My financial situation at present isn’t terrific, but it’s better than it was. I had less than $40 left in the bank. Through some creative money moving, I have enough to last me for a little while. I would be getting my first stipend check on September 12, but my social security card was lost in my move (Murphy’s law is running rampant on my life at the moment), so I’ll just get a double-wide check the last week of September. I should have enough to get by until then. I’ll be doing a lot of praying that no unexpected costs show up anytime soon, and that my gas tank stays mysteriously above empty without me having to fill it (a girl can dream).

You’ll notice that I have put additional AdSense on my page (despite the fact that it generates ZERO revenue). I had it up at the top, but that did nothing and it's ugly, so I've moved it to the bottom. I think most of the people who read this are on GoogleReader or BlogLines anyway, so I don't know why I'm bothering with ads, but whatever. Worth a shot, I guess.

I have also added a PayPal “Donate” button at the suggestions of a handful of readers (both in my comments section and in emails). It feels incredibly tacky to me, so I might take it down (especially since I'm no longer concerned about dying from starvation).

Anyway. It's been a rough start here, but I know that it's all going to work out in the end. Things have a way of balancing out. And the lost social security card, the mystery illnesses, the hurricane that may or may not show up... they're all going to be balanced by how incredible of an experience this is going to be. I can feel it.


Here’s to new beginnings!

~A~


P.S. Remember the saga of The Naughty Bartender? And how on his facebook page one girl had commented that she'd gone out to a bar with him the Sunday before, and I took it as a sign that he had been single? That same girl wrote on his wall on August 9th: "what do you mean you're single?/? when did this happen?" So, yeah. I guess that means his single status was fresher than I thought. Sadly, I didn't see him again before leaving Chicago (he wanted me to visit him at a bar one night, but I made plans with a different gentleman friend instead). But I think that's probably for the best. Even if it did make a damn fine story.

P.P.S. This is what my room in Chicago looked like while I was packing before the move.

Closing the Bar

It's after 5:30 in the morning. The sky is light and the sun is beginning to rise in Chicago. I just walked into my apartment, am mildly intoxicated, and spent a second night with the bartender.

I have a matinee tomorrow. Tomorrow night is my going-away party. I haven't finished writing about the events of last weekend. So why the hell am I still blogging?

I don't know. But I'm fairly certain that I promised Nico that I'd drunk blog again. And I like keeping promises. So here goes.

I went to a coffee shop tonight to try to attend one last NaNoWriMo Write-In before moving. Sadly, I was the only one in attendance. And around 7:00pm, right as the barista handed me my drink (some sort of tea with ice and milk that the bartender recommended, and it was delicious), my phone rang.

It was Nick, the bartender. He said that he was working at a bar, and that it was boring (4pm to 4am on a Tuesday, and he was the only bartender there). He wanted me to come visit him. He also said that he will be in another state next week, and he had hoped to see me again before I moved.

I ostensibly freaked out and asked for advice (check my twitter page if you don't believe me).

************************************************

(See that line? That would be when I fell asleep. Whoops. FAIL! I'll continue where I left off.)

I hemmed and hawed over the decision of whether to go or not. If I went, knowing what I now knew, would that make me guilty in all of this? No, I would only feel weird if we made out or something, and he would be working until 4:00am... And there was no WAY I was going to stay until 4:00am... So it would just be like a goodbye between friends. I'd show up, he'd be working, I'd be there for thirty minutes, get bored, and leave. Completely G-rated. Harmless.

I went home and changed out of the short halter-dress that I'd been wearing all day. I wanted something less... sexy? Less easy access? Less "look at my body"? Something like that. I put on jeans and a brown shirt. Casual. Cute. Not trying too hard. (Men, take note: women spend a lot of time freaking out about what to wear. I'd say it's a universal truth.)

So I eventually went. I got there right around 10:00pm. Again, my intention was to stay for thirty minutes. The bar was mostly empty when I walked in. There were four people sitting at the counter, the shift manager, and Nick. Because it was a Tuesday, Nick was the only bartender there the whole night.

I wished I had brought my camera. He looked really hot behind the bar. But I had only brought what I could fit in the pockets of my jeans.

Nick introduced me to Tony, the shift manager, knowing that I'd need someone to talk to while he was working. Within the first fifteen minutes of talking to Tony, he complimented my eyes, said I smelled great, and called me beautiful.

(Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how I got this much juice, but I'm overflowing with it right now. Angela got her groove back. *snap, snap*)

Nick started looking at a menu and said he was ordering himself some food at the bar. He asked if I was hungry. I said I was, but not to worry about getting me anything. After all, I was planning to leave soon. But after some discussion, he somehow changed my mind, and I put in an order. That, my friends, was unplanned decision #1.

At one point a great song started playing, and, as I am wont to do, I began dancing. A regular (an old man who wastes his pension check at the bar) started dancing with me. Somehow he managed to turn out his pockets and drop everything he was carrying in the process (which seemed to be a bunch of meaningless papers and scraps of cardboard... no idea why). He then insisted on buying me a drink.

At first, I said no, as Nick had been giving me free cherry cokes since I'd walked in the door (by the way, it is SO NICE to know a bartender... that man comped me on pretty much everything). But the old man insisted.

I'm pretty sure that's the first time a stranger has ever bought me anything in a bar. (Yeah, juice!) I mean, a random guy who worked at a clothing store gave me his employee discount once because he thought I was cute, but this is different somehow. A drink from a stranger? That's the kind of stuff that happens in movies. It was awesome.

So since old man was buying, I decided to switch to something alcoholic. That was unplanned decision #2. Because once I go into real drinks, I don't generally go back to my cherry cokes (no matter how fun it is attempting to tie the cherry stems into knots with my tongue...).

The food came, and it was actually pretty good. Nick insisted on paying for mine, which was unexpected, but nice.

At one point, Tony went out to smoke (yay for the Chicago indoor smoking ban! I can leave bars without smelling like an ashtray!), and Nick took his place right next to me (the bar was still empty, so it didn't matter). And I asked one of the questions that I'd been dying to ask...

Angela: So, exactly how Sicilian are you?
Nick: I don't understand the question.
Angela: You told me you were Sicilian.
Nick: I am. One hundred percent.
Angela: Yeah, right.
Nick: I'm serious!
Angela: So why did Lucas tell me you were Puerto Rican?
Nick: Lucas? Who is Lucas?
Angela: From the kitchen staff.
Nick: Oh God, no. That guy? He's lying to you.
Angela: He called you Boricua.
Nick: He likes to mess with me. Why would you believe him?
Angela: Well, you are fluent in Spanish...
Nick: It happens.

With that, he hopped back behind the bar to serve someone.

When Tony came back from his smoke, I decided to fact check (because clearly, I am Perry Mason).

Angela: Hey, what nationality is Nick?
Tony: He's Italian.
Angela: Seriously?
Tony: Yeah. Sicilian, I think. Why?
Angela: Someone told me he was Puerto Rican.
Tony: No, he's not. But he, um... His... His babies' mother. She is. Puerto Rican. I think.

Tony then looked at me awkwardly as though he'd let some sort of secret slide. I just nodded, not at all jarred by the mention of Nick having a baby mama. I didn't really feel the need to ask any more about her past that. Confirmation that she existed was enough for me.

Tony then started complimenting my "big brown eyes", and we had a whole discussion on astrology. Tony was the first person who has EVER in my ENTIRE LIFE been able to guess that I'm on the Libra/Scorpio cusp. Mind you, I did tell him I was on a cusp, but he nailed it on his first try. Something about me having sex appeal, but not being as overtly sexual as an Aries led him to think I was a Scorpio? I don't know. I generally don't believe in that stuff, but there are definitely some things about me that my sign hits perfectly.

Not long after that, a group of males came into the bar, and Nick was rushing around getting their drinks (many of which appeared to be water... who goes to a bar and orders water? Even I'M not that lame. I at least get a sodapop). I started playing with my cell phone, when one of them said, "So are you actually waiting for someone, or are you just faking it?" I responded by pointing at Nick, but the guy was persistent. He kept trying to start up a conversation with me. He smelled like some kind of smoke (pot? I'm not sure what pot smells like, but I think it may have been pot), and was acting high.

Nick gestured for me to move to the other end of the counter, so I did. Once there, he started in on a whole diatribe about how he thought the guy was being rude to me, and that he wanted to get me away from him. He then said something about not wanting to get in a fight with them because they were paying customers (well, some of them), but he felt like he needed to get me out of the situation. He then said it had nothing to do with jealousy, and that he would've been watching out for any girl around guys like that, even if he didn't know her.

(I don't know why I included that story, but I felt the need to.)

The night wore on. Nick kept putting drinks in front of me, and I kept drinking them. I kept insisting that I was about to go home. And I believed it every time I said it. But I just stayed...

Nick was too busy to talk at most points. I spent a decent amount of time watching Family Guy with the subtitles on and trying to guess what the lines were going to be before they were posted on the screen (note: I'm a HUGE dork). But strangely, I wasn't all that annoyed by it. Every so often, he'd look at me from across the bar, smile, and wink. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but it made me feel a little giggly whenever he did it. Warm and fuzzy on the inside. That's part of the reason I didn't leave: I wanted to hang around to see if he'd wink at me again.

At one point, a chick said she recognized me from the bar where she works (which is coincidentally the site of my going-away party tonight, which I hope you can attend). She bought me a shot. I don't know what the hell Nick made me, but it had the consistency of a half-melted sno-cone and was delicious.

I started talking to a guy who was apparently a cop at one point. He bought me a shot. (Are you keeping track? That's THREE strangers who bought me drinks... I was on FIRE last night.) And then he and I were playing games on this video-poker machine that were NOT card games. Like "spot the differences between the pictures" and "find the hidden words" and whatnot. Considering the fact that I was not sober, I did pretty well.

The manager came into the bar as it was closing. He said he remembered me from last week, although I didn't remember him. He then told me I had the cutest nose he'd ever seen. I don't think my nose has ever been complimented before. I wasn't entirely sure how to handle that one...

Next thing I knew, the only people left in the bar were Nick, Tony, the manager, and I. I remember yelling across the counter, "Nick! Why the hell am I still here?"

Tony kept saying how cool of a girl I am. And that bartenders have all the luck. When he said, "It's sad that you're leaving so soon," I responded with, "I think the fact that I'm leaving is half my appeal." Nick turned to me and smiled flirtatiously.

It's weird to see a bar after it's closed and all the lights are on. It starts to look like any other workplace. More like a room than a bar. So insubstantial. It reminded me of when I worked at a customer service desk at a mall. Getting there before anyone else, or leaving after them, it gains a whole new atmosphere. Like a big empty fortress. And not really a fun or interesting place at all. Just a place where people work.

I stayed until they finished closing up (which was close to 4:45am, if I remember correctly).

Nick drove me home. We talked briefly. I gave him a head rub. Somehow we ended up in the backseat making out (something I've never actually done before... probably because I didn't have my first kiss until college), but my memory is fuzzy on the "why". He tried his darnedest to be invited up to my apartment (because of how awkward the car was), but I solidly refused. He asked if I wanted to go back to his apartment, but I said no because of the matinee (and because he said he had to get up at 7:30am anyway...). But he said he's going to try to rearrange his schedule on Thursday so we can see each other again.

Niiiiice. ;)

What? I'm 23. I'm leaving. I'm having fun. Don't judge me.


May you have reasons to keep hanging around.

~A~


P.S. I wanted to make the title a "Starry Night" pun using "Bar-y Night" instead, but it looked weird. And "Barry Night" made it look like I was dating someone named Barry... Yeah. Oh well.

The Model on the Train

I got to work and felt an overwhelming desire to blog this, as it just happened.

I was out at a bar with friends last night (more on that later), and left a bit early because I felt both ill and exhausted. I slept in later than usual today. I did not take a shower. I did not eat breakfast. I did not put in my contacts. I did not put on any makeup (although I never took off the makeup I had on yesterday, so I'm sure there's some residual mascara still in place). And I did not put on clothing that matched (I am wearing a dark maroon button up shirt over a black tank top, a khaki-colored linen skirt, and mint Keds with white laces. I'm sure it doesn't sound horrible, but I assure you that it looks rather awkward. I'll see if I can find my camera before the day is through... And I'm sure the effect is only improved by the leftover bright orange eyeshadow that I have on from last night).

I was standing on the L this morning, going through the construction and dreaded "slow zones", and I noticed a fellow sitting in front of where I stood was writing something down. I peered over his shoulder. It appeared to be a rap he was writing. I suppose it could've just been poetry, but he was dressed like the sort of person who would compose raps on the L. He had crossed several words out, replacing them with better options. I tried to get a sense of what he had written, but I couldn't read his writing well from my angle. And at least one of the words I could make out was misspelled beyond recognition.

At one point, the train was stopped, so I leaned down to my purse, grabbed my red lip gloss, and began to apply it by looking at the window into my reflection, which was made more visible by the darkness of the tunnel. As I put the lip gloss back in my bag, the rapper tapped me on the shoulder. He then held up a piece of paper for me to look at. It wasn't the one he had been scrawling on previously, but rather a folded piece with only one sentence on it.

Are you a model?

"No," I replied with a smile.

He took his pen to the paper quickly and wrote, then held it to me again.

Aw

"Thank you, though."

YW

He went back to his writing, and I went back to staring at my reflection in the glass. I tried to see whatever it was that he saw. Tried to look at that girl in the glasses with the messy hair and the awkward pose, holding two giant bags packed to the brim with whatnot, and see a model. I couldn't see one. All I could see was me.

After another stop, he tapped me again, and once more held up the paper.

Why aren't you a model?

I said the first thing that came into my head.

"I'm too short," I said, my mind wandering to my mother's modeling days. I've seen pictures of her that were in magazines when she was a teen. She did runway modeling up through my childhood. She still sporadically does runway work, but usually just for charity events now. My tall, beautiful mother. 5'9" -- perfect for the runway.

Everyone says I look just like her. But I'm not quite 5'6", and you have to be 5'7" to do runway.

He showed me the paper again.

Not runway. Print work.

"I don't know. I guess I just never got into it," I stared thoughtfully at my minty shoes for a moment. "I am an actor, though."

He smiled at me. He started to write again as the train came to a halt.

"This is my stop."

He tried to write faster, but the person next to him was getting out. He stood to let the man out, and dropped his notebook in the process. I stooped to retrieve it. "Nice to meet you," I said, handing it back to him. He just nodded and smiled as I wove through the aisle toward the door and onto the platform.

I wish I knew what he was writing when the train stopped.

The weirdest part of this: I can't figure out why he was writing everything and not speaking it. If he's a rapper, he's not mute. Maybe he thought it was too loud. Maybe he was trying to be mysterious. Or maybe he just didn't want to be "that creepy guy trying to talk to a girl on the L". Rather curious, in any case.

I suppose it doesn't matter. It was a nice way to start the day.


May you find joy from unexpected sources.

~A~


P.S. As I was typing this, I told the story to two of my coworkers, who promptly pronounced that the guy was a "douche bag", and that he probably uses that line all the time. Oh well. Still made me feel good.

P.P.S. I nearly titled this "Model Train", but decided that would be misleading, as it's not actually about model trains. But know that I considered it. :)

Leading with Cheer

Forgive me for being egotistical, but I believe that I am an asset to any group to which I belong. For example, I think my workplace will be a lot less interesting when I'm gone (although I'm pretty sure that only two of the people in my department have realized this thus far). And I think that my grad school class is going to be a more cheerful, energetic bunch because of me.

I think that in many ways, I can be defined as a cheerleader. And perhaps a cheery leader as well.

I come by it naturally, as my mother has the same gift/affliction. In fact, the DJs on her favorite online radio station (Martini in the Morning -- they play mostly standards, and my mother would be ecstatic if she knew that I was advertising them on my blog) refer to her as the station's Head Cheerleader. Whenever she sees a martini glass, she has her picture taken with it and sends it to them. Her automatic signature on any email she sends has a Martini in the Morning graphic on it. She even worked the station into our family's Christmas letter (no, I'm not kidding). She's a one-woman advertising campaign.

And, well, I'm the same way. I like to get people excited about things. I like to bring people together. And I'm not afraid to step up and take the helm. My mother taught me well.

The current students at the grad school to which I'll be matriculating this fall have started sending out "Welcome" e-mails to my class. So I decided to take some initiative; I turned into glue and began binding us all together.

First, I put everyone's e-mail addresses into my address book. Then, I used the Facebook friend-finder thingamajigger to befriend as many as I could find. And then, I sent them all an e-mail, introducing myself. Here is a portion of that e-mail:

My name is Angela. Some people call me Angela, some call me Aiea (which rhymes with Maya... but don't worry about having to spell or pronounce that. Angela works just fine). I'm 23. I grew up in Michigan (near East Lansing) went to Saint Mary's College in Indiana (it's the women's college that's across the street from Notre Dame), and I've been living in Chicago since fall 2006. I have two younger brothers who are in undergrad, and my parents live in Connecticut. I love to write (I'm working on a novel right now... it's seriously terrible, but it's a blast), I love to dance (often at inappropriate times), and I would be completely unable to function without music (and I'm pretty eclectic in my tastes).

I thought that was a good introduction to me. I tried to involve my personality and not just facts (hence all the parentheticals... I think they demonstrate my hyperactivity and ability to digress rather nicely). But I also didn't want to scare them off (too soon to give them a full dose of the insanity that is me). Hopefully, I struck a good compromise there.

My class is twelve students (seven guys, five gals). So far, six of them have followed my lead and composed their own introductory emails.

- Guy from D.C. who goes by the nickname "Thrill" and says, "I have a very different kind of personality, I have nothing but Crunk Juice inside of me almost ALL the time. I'm a little big ball of Crunk energy."

- California girl living in Texas who started her email with "Huzzah!" and went on to write, "I have strange taste in music and stranger taste in books... but I make a mean apple pie."

- A fellow who has lived in Manhattan all his life writes, "I was a competitive swimmer until I went into the LaGuardia "Fame" High School and fell in love with drama."

- A girl who started in the program two years ago, but left after a semester because of family troubles. She's starting again with our class. She writes, "I'm a red headed "Jersey Girl" through and through."

- Michigan guy who is "an avid reader", a "TV drama junkie", and says, "currently The Frames have stolen my heart."

- Another Michigan guy (side note: the Michigan guys went to undergrad together). This one writes, "I find foreign affairs really interesting, as well as anthropology, spanish lit and history." He started the email with "Yo dudes" and ended with "Rock on".


So I'm excited. Seems like a fun bunch. And like we're all different sorts. So that'll be fun. :)

You might have asked yourselves, "What are the odds that THREE Michiganders would end up in the same tiny MFA Acting program in Florida?" But here's the even weirder thing: I know there are already at least two Michigan students in the program (one is a second year, one is a first year). So 5 out of the total 32 students that will be there next year are from Michigan. Which means that along transportation equipment, cereal, and Christmas trees, thespians are clearly one of the best exports that Michigan has to offer.

I formed a facebook group just for our class. I figure it'll be nice to have a forum for figuring out all the things we might want to discuss. Five of us are in it at the moment.

The next mental debate I'll have on the grad school front has to do with my living situation. Three of the aforementioned future classmates expressed interest in finding a roommate. It's way cheaper to live with someone, and you can wind up with a bigger (and nicer) place as a result. But I don't know if I really want to be cohabitating with someone whom I'm going to be seeing in every class. There would be no escape.

And there's also the tiny little issue of applying. I STILL haven't lined up my recommendation letters. I'm not too worried, as I'm pretty sure I have until May... But still. Should probably get on that. I tried making a couple of calls today, but I ended up talking to the usual voicemails. Ah well.

Aside from trying to start the ball rolling on cohesion within my class and avoiding other grad school whatnot, I've also been pretending to be an adult. I actually did my taxes today. And you know what? It was totally painless. Piece of cake. I also edited a chapter in my novel (a good one, I thought. I was pretty happy with it). And I tried to clean my apartment. My mother tried to help give me a jump-start on it while she was here, but we didn't get all that far.

I started going through my makeup today, throwing things out. You wouldn't believe how much makeup I have. It's obscene. Particularly since I wear very little (often none) on a daily basis. No makeup case is big enough to hold all of it, so I actually bought a tackle-box at Wal-Mart several years ago. And, frankly, it barely fits in there. I might need to find something bigger soon.

Speaking of new things, I recently made myself a new book to write in. I already have a book for poetry I've written, a book for quotations, and a book for lists. Well, now I have a book for compliments.


I'm getting a lot better at accepting compliments than I used to be. And certain people in my life seem to be happy about that *cough, Brian, cough*. So I've decided I'm going to start writing them down. Besides, it'll probably be good for my self-esteem. I'll be able to look back on nice things people have said about me whenever I'm feeling as though I'm worthless.

(Ha! I was about to write that it'll come in handy next February when I'm going through Seasonal Affected Disorder, but then I realized... I'm going to be in FLORIDA! I won't have SAD next year!!! Woo-hoo!)

As one final thing to mention, I love Jenn. No, seriously, I love her. Remember when I guest-blogged for her? She actually sent me Thank You gifts!


Two scented candles (delightfully green, I might add), and a lovely notebook (I'm such a sucker for blank pages in pretty packages). And all this after she allowed me to write on her blog for a day! I feel like I should be sending HER a present, not the other way around. Anyway, thank you Jenn!

I now have the beginning of what I fear will turn into a wicked headache, so I've got to stop staring at my computer screen.


May you lead some cheers of your own.

~A~


P.S. I switched out my other plaid background for one with only two colors. Is it less busy? Or is it equally problematic? And is it less fun? I can't decide what I like and/or want.

Absolutely Positive

Hey look! I made the sort of changes on the blog that you would notice without me telling you!

Don't get too comfortable, though. I'm still trying to suss out what it is that I want. I can't decide if I hate what I've just done yet... I think I'm going to give it a chance for a week or so, just to see how I feel... I might end up reverting to exactly what I had before. If you have any thoughts (positive or negative... I don't mind either way), please leave them in the comments section. I was thinking about doing the plaid on a diagonal instead... Is it too busy? I think I miss my old header, but it just didn't match right... I think I need to monkey around with it a bit more.

I promised a dear friend of mine that I'd try to write a wholly positive post this time, as his stratospheric empathy wounds him whenever I do not. So I'll see what I can do (it might have to be a short post... Which is probably for the best, as I have to catch a plane in the wee hours of the morning and I haven't begun to pack). One short(ish), fluffy entry, coming up!

I brought back my playlist. *the crowd goes wild* I just found the song "I Know a Place" by Petula Clark a couple of days ago, and I'm completely ga-ga over it. It's so cheery! I love learning new songs (okay, so it's definitely not new... but it's new to me). The playlist is longer than usual at the moment (I got a little overly exuberant upon its return...), but I'll be weeding stuff out at some point. I think it's best when it's around 30 songs. Right now, it's over 50 (you could drown in a playlist like that!). So if you're the sort of person that likes to put on a playlist on some random person's blog and listen to it for hours at a time, take advantage of it while it lasts.

I had a performance appraisal session with my boss today. Apparently, I'm quite good at my job, and my boss loves me. She referred to me as a "rock star" during the review a few times (and substituted "super star" at least once). If all goes according to plan, I should be getting a raise in April and a bonus in May. Woo-hoo!

I decided the time was right to inform my boss that I might be leaving in the summer to go pursue graduate studies. She seemed disappointed, referred to the news as "bittersweet", and asked if there was any chance I might come back in the summers to work for the company as a temp (no, no there isn't). It's lovely when your work gets recognized.

And things are good with Brian. It has recently been brought to my attention that most people know more about the problems there than the positives. Which makes sense. I often need to vent about the negatives. It's easier to keep the positives to myself. That, and I feel weird writing them. Embarrassed or something. It's especially odd since he occasionally reads this...

My favorite thing about Brian is that he experiences the world unlike anyone else I've ever met. I love that he watches the Disney channel on a regular basis. I love how obsessed he is with Kara DioGuardi and Platinum Weird. I love that he's more idealistic than analytical, cynical little me could ever be.

He believes in me to what seems like an unrealistic level. Sometimes I think he's happier at my successes than I am. He pays me more compliments than I deserve, and as a favor to him I'm learning to accept them with grace.

Everything he says or writes to me is weighted differently from the communication I have with anyone else. When he tells me I'm beautiful, I believe him. A hundred people congratulated me on my grad school interviews, but the words from Brian made me feel about eight times prouder than anyone else's comments. Tons of people told me they knew I could do it, but Brian's voice was the one I heard.

Sometimes he writes things to me, and I feel... I don't know. I feel like my insides are folding onto themselves and lighting a fire, filling me with the sort of warmth you normally only feel when you put on clothes straight from the dryer. He makes me feel giddy. And powerful. And like I'm worth something. Like I'm special.

He tells me I changed his life. The way he tells it, I'm some sort of angel, sent to put him back on the road to the things he wants. I don't know if that's true, but I do believe that everything happens for a reason. God put Brian and I in each other's lives... And in such a way that we can't see each other. I wish I knew the reason for that.

Anyway. Maybe now I don't sound like such a masochist for keeping him in my life. He provides me with something I don't get anywhere else. And yes, it's an imperfect, incomplete sort of excuse for a relationship, but I think he's what I need right now. I don't think we're done learning from each other yet. Whatever it is we have, it is a good thing. I swear.

I should really be packing right now. I have a plane to catch early in the morning... I'm headed down to Florida with my mommy to take a look at a grad school. I'm a little freaked, but mostly psyched. I'm going down to see if I want to enter into a marriage with this school for three years. And if I do? Well, then, I think I'll be proposing very soon.

It's weird that I'm being this decisive. But for some reason, I'm already relatively certain that this is what I want to be doing for the next three years. But I'm going to take my time. I'm not going to choose until I'm positive that this is the right school, the right time, the right choice.

Oh! I just remembered one more thing to be happy about... It's Shamrock Shake season at McDonald's! Although, actually, my first Shamrock Shake of the year was overly minty and somewhat disappointing. It tasted as though one of the employees had dumped a trial size of Scope into my large milkshake (can they even be called milkshakes? I don't think the ones at McDonald's are made with milk... Potato flakes or something... Really, I don't care what they are; they're delicious). A little over-zealous with the mint. And a little too green as well. I'm sure they'll refine the ratio within a few days. At least, I hope so. Because when they're good, they're very, very good. And when they're bad... Well, it would be better to gargle with than to drink.


May you remember to be positive when life begins to drag.
And may you take the time to be positive that what you're doing is right.

~A~

Unresolved

Hello ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the new year.

First off, I'll give you a quick recap of my 2007, as it seems that's what all the cool bloggers are doing...

(Note: Pictures all taken in 2007, though not necessarily in the months they're near)


(My friends and I went to a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was going for a Magenta-esque look)

JANUARY
- I began temping at my current workplace.
- I took a Shakespeare class.


(Goofing off with my old roomie, Cameron, in his Maverick flight suit)

FEBRUARY
- I was in a staged reading of a new play (in which I was cast as a 50-year-old woman... perfect, obviously).
- I went through my usual "I hate the world" bout with Seasonal Affective Disorder


(My coworker and me in our cubicles on "Jeans Day", the last Friday of the month. It's a major office event.)

MARCH
- I auditioned for a massive amount of productions, and kept getting called back, but not cast.
- I was hired officially by my current workplace (and got benefits and a 401k. Woo-hoo, I'm an adult!).


(Decked out for a "Pirates, Indians, & Gypsies" party. I think I was trying to be a gypsy.)

APRIL
- I was cast in a play-turned-musical production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile.
- I started playing Guitar Hero II. And kicking booty at it.


(In rehearsal for Picasso at the Lapin Agile.)

MAY
- The cast of said production began giving me lessons in "how to drink socially", and bought me drinks wherever we went.
- I won a Baby Name Pool out of over 700 entries.


(A scene from Picasso at the Lapin Agile, in which I played Suzanne.)

JUNE
- I got a promotion at my current workplace. And a raise. Hooray!
- I broke the heart of the fabulous guy I dated for over 2 years.
- Picasso at the Lapin Agile ran for 4 weeks
- I started dating a new fellow, who everyone knew was completely wrong for me (I think even he and I knew it).


(I get dressed up for the Tony Awards every year. My former roommate Anna looked on.)

JULY
- I took another Shakespeare class.
- My roommates and I threw a few parties, culminating in a "Sexy Party", which rocked my world.


(Some of my college friends and I pose at The Sexy Party)

AUGUST
- I moved into a shoebox-size studio apartment.


(Being a dork with my dear friend, Brian, who is on my speed dial)

SEPTEMBER
- I started this blog!
- It hit me that I'd gained 25 pounds in a year. How on Earth did that happen?


(My Picasso castmates Dave & Dane taught me a lot about bars.)

OCTOBER
- I was dumped by the new fellow. Meh.
- I turned 23.
- I took yet another Shakespeare class (Yeah, I'm a geek. So what?)


(Sniffing out my friend Zel on my birthday)

NOVEMBER
- I participated in (and finished) National Novel Writing Month, which might be the coolest thing I've ever done with my life. I've never been more proud of (or more embarrassed by) anything than my unfinished slap-dash novella.
- I participated in (and finished) NaBloPoMo by posting three completely random things per day for the entire month of November.
- I became a vegetarian (which I STILL am, shockingly; I thought it was a two-week experiment, but it's starting to stick).
- A guy told me he was in love with me (note: not one of the two ex-boyfriends).
- I started another blog (I have an addiction). I'm pretty sure no one reads it but me. But I don't even really care... It's just where I throw links I like so that I can find them later on. And if it amuses others, that's just a bonus.


(Laying my claim on my friends Mike and Jim)

DECEMBER
- I was hit by a car.
- I took a vacation from work to head to Connecticut, New York, and Michigan for 11 days (which I'll probably write about in my next entry... Sorry for the delay).


(Goofing off with Anna)

Eventful year, right?


(Playing Guitar Hero II with Anna, still in our Rocky Horror gear)

I also learned that a few of the people I'd basically forgotten about after high school are some of the coolest people I know. And I gained a couple of "dotcomrades" (and a pen-less pen-pal, with whom I exchange epic e-mails that the rest of the world wouldn't appreciate) whom I've grown fond of. I've learned how to pay bills. I've made up a couple of recipes (the sorts of food that only I would dare touch). I've found a new favorite television show (Pushing Daisies, which makes me want to hug my laptop after every episode that I watch alone in my apartment while eating copious amounts of food). All in all, I'd say it was a good year.


(Dancing in Picasso at the Lapin Agile)

And at this time of year, people tend to think about things they should resolve to do differently in their lives, as a fresh year suggests a clean start.

I bet you're wondering whether I kept my resolutions from last year (actually, you probably weren't... people tend to think so hard about upcoming resolutions that they forget about past ones entirely). Honestly, I don't remember what I resolved to do for 2007. No clue. Just another auld lang sigh (forgive the unnecessary pun).

I tried to quit biting my nails for 1993. And pretty much every year since then. It never sticks. One year, I made it until the last week of February, and then went through an emotional breakdown and gave up. I'm not going to try to give it up this year. Frankly, I like biting my nails. It's comforting. And I have a wicked oral fixation, so it's just easier if I leave it alone. (And really, I could have worse habits. I don't smoke, I don't do drugs, I don't have sex, and I rarely drink... how bad could nail-biting possibly be?)

In 1996 (I think), I gave up drinking cola (I included Coke, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, and anything else that was dark, as I was convinced they were staining my teeth). And I successfully completed the year. I overloaded on Sprite and 7-Up so much that year that they've never been quite as good since.

I have a tendency to follow my Lent resolutions better than my New Year ones. I usually give up two things, so that if I'm a horrible failure at one, I can at least stick with the other. Like the year I gave up "worrying" and "elevators". Or the year I gave up "pursuing boys" and "television I can't learn from" (I was still allowed to watch the news and anything with acting on it, -- I considered that to be professional research -- but I couldn't watch, say, anything on VH1. Including Strange Love, which I believe was entirely contained within Lent that year). Or the year I gave up "excuses" and "computer games". I never make it easy on myself, do I? One year I gave up "red wine vinegar", and it threw my whole immune system out of whack (I came down with several back-to-back mystery illnesses), and vowed never to alter my diet in favor of a Lenten promise again.

Anyway. I don't like the idea of changing things just because it's a new year. If you want to make a change in your life, just do it; don't wait for a year change.

That said, there are some things I want to try to improve with, and now is as good a time as any to get going. So here are a few things I've come up with:

- Make a conscious effort to call my brothers more often.
Now that we're living in three different states, I don't talk to my brothers as often as I should. And I know that if I don't do something about it now, it's just going to get harder as we age. So I'm going to try to call each of them at least once a month, instead of just finding out about them through my parents and their Facebook profiles.

- Be more physically active.
I'm a sedimentary rock. I need to start walking more or something. Haven't put much thought into this yet, clearly, but it needs to be done.

- Learn to accept compliments with more grace.
I've mentioned before that I'm horrible at accepting compliments. I always think people are lying to me. Trying to get on my good side. Or mocking me somehow. I don't know. I have less-than-perfect self-esteem (okay, it's pretty bad). And I usually don't agree with the nice things they say (except with strangers... I'm a little better at taking them from strangers, as strangers have no reason to lie to me. I also enjoy complimenting strangers, and have no problem tapping a woman on the shoulder on public transportation to tell her I dig her shoes/purse/hair). But I want to stop that. I want to believe the nice things people tell me. And deflecting every compliment I get isn't going to help my self-esteem. So I'm going to try to stop. I'm going to learn to look them in the eye, smile, and say thank you. Hopefully, I'll be better at it by the end of the year.

- Memorize the correct spellings of excersize, maitenance (maintainence), and immeadiately.
And everything else on my list of "words that I consistently have trouble spelling for no apparent reason and am frequently embarrassed by when I can't figure out how to get them to spell out in T9 on my cell phone, but I don't want to switch over to the alphabet function because then I KNOW I'm spelling them wrong, and I don't want people to think that I don't know how to spell simple words like corderoy, persue, desparate, and seperate." (If any of the aforementioned italicized words looked right to you, then you might want to make this a resolution for yourself as well.) I swear, I'm generally an excellent speller. And I'm embarrassed every time I have to question the spelling of any common word.

(NOTE: I intentionally used my mistake-spellings of these words instead of the correct ones so that you'd be able to see what I'm doing wrong. I think I've actually mastered separate/desperate now, but I used to mix up which had the "a" in the middle and which had the "e". I included two spellings of maintenance because it's the HARDEST word for me to spell for reasons unbeknownst to me, and I usually go through four spellings before I find the correct one.)

- Finish my NaNoWriMo novel.
It seems that the most vote-getting item is for me to post portions of the unbelievably bad novel I'm working on in a weekly blog as I edit and finish the book. So I will. Now, as my business-oriented brother has told me, he thinks this is a horrid idea, as once something is on the internet, you have no way of protecting it. Someone could steal it easily. My solution at this point is to publish it in a "private" blog (if I do that, I'll leave instructions on this blog as to how to get to it or something) and to use Copyscape or something. If anyone else has any thoughts on how to protect my work as I share it, please let me know. Although I can't imagine anyone wanting to steal my unfinished garbage, but some people are incredibly ill-meaning, so you never know.


And, perhaps the most terrifying of all...

- Figure out what I want to do with my life.
I feel like I should have figured this one out by now. And I have a feeling that at least one person out there is probably confused by this. Well, here's something I've recently talked out with a friend well enough to be able to put on paper: I love acting, but I hate being an actor.

Theatre is the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. I truly believe that theatre can change the world (a belief that I'll have to explain another time in more detail). And I love working in theatre. I love acting more than I possibly put into words. It helps my soul to breathe. It makes me feel powerful to my core. And I'm good at it.

But that's only a small fraction of being an actor. The rest of it is the business behind it. I hate going to audition after audition, callback after callback, putting everything I've got on the line, and never hearing back. I hate wondering if I'm sending the right head shot to the right company. I hate networking, and schmoozing, and acting like remembering someone's name is going to get me a job down the line when I doubt that it actually will. I hate knowing that I'm just another 20-something white girl, and that plenty of other girls who look/sound/act just like me will be showing up to the same audition, and I am not in any way, shape, or form "special". And I hate failure. I don't have the ego to bounce back from long strings of rejection. And I'm not sure that I ever will.

I'm auditioning for graduate schools in February, and I'm not even certain that I want to go. Would it even do me any good? Or will it just make me an even better actor with the same sets of hang-ups and fears that I have now?

My other problem stems from my indecision and my chameleon-like ability to pick up new tricks. I have too many interests, too many skills, and too many talents, and I always feel like there's something different I should be doing (which is perhaps why I went through SO MANY MAJORS in college). There are days when I ask myself why I'm not trying to get into medical school (I love helping people, I'm great at biology, I kick butt in dissection, and medical professions sort of run in my family). There are days that I want to quit my job and be a writer (NaNoWriMo and blogging were the biggest natural highs of my year). There are days I wonder why I'm not in graduate school for Psychology/History/Dentistry... etc. There are days that I wonder if I've been working towards the wrong goal, and the thing that will make me truly happy is right in front of my nose and I'm ignoring it.

And then there are days that I think if I don't get back on stage soon, I'm going to explode.

My love for theatre consumes me. I think about being on stage every day. I run monologues as I'm getting ready to leave the house (which my brother made fun of me for while I was in Connecticut). I read plays on the bus. I save money so that I can go to plays/musicals/workshops/classes/lectures as often as possible. And it gives me so much joy to be a part of it.

But I hate the business. I hate the idea of having to get agents. I hate the idea of being in horrible shows to get my face seen. I don't think I'm strong enough. I'm more likely to believe criticisms than compliments. I'm more likely to get knocked down and stay there. And when push comes to shove, I'm more likely to give up than try harder.

It wasn't easy for me to admit any of that (and there are many people I hope will never read it), but it's the truth.

So this year, I want to figure that out. I want to know whether I want to keep acting, or throw in the towel. I want to figure out if I need to go back to school and get new, usable skills that can help me get a job I'm well-suited for, or if I should keep doing what I'm doing.

As a side note, acting is truly a craft. And it takes far more training and skill than most people realize. All the arts do. So if you meet someone attempting to make a living in the arts, support them. Don't think to yourself that they should get a "real" job. They have real jobs. And chances are good that they're far more passionate about their chosen careers than you are about yours. If they weren't, it'd be impossible to keep going. It's too hard to do if you don't love it with every fiber of your being.

And some people, like myself, are passionately in love with what they do, but hate the means to do it.


May your fresh year give you a fresh perspective on what you want in life.

~A~


(Jumping for joy after bowling a strike on my birthday)