Tell Me That This Sucks

ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

Okay. So.

My school/theatre guarantees that by the time we graduate, we will be eligible to join the Actors' Equity Association (the theatre union). This is an extremely unusual thing for a school to promise, and it is one of the biggest draws to this particular institution.

It's complicated to explain how it works, but basically the way they get you into the union is by having you work on a special contract for the big theatre, for at least 50 weeks. You get some of those weeks your 1st-year (as an understudy) and some as a 3rd-year (as an understudy and as a performer).

But with my class, they've screwed up.

It looks like 8 out of 10 of us aren't going to have enough weeks.

I, personally, am going to end up with 48.

This has occurred because the season started late our 1st year, and is starting even later our 3rd year. Both were unusual cases. And, it seems, this is the first time that our theatre has ever had this come up as an issue.

We only discovered this problem on Friday. We immediately notified the head of the program. He said he'd look into it.

Today I got an e-mail with his solution: we're all going to be understudying the big, Broadway-bound musical that begins rehearsals on Monday.

Normally, this would be awesome. It would be joyous news. I would be happy.

But I'm not.

Why?

Because it's performing all through November and December.

And therefore...

I can't go to London.

I have a non-refundable ticket to see the man that I want to see more desperately than I ever remember wanting to see anyone ever in my life.

And now...

I just found out now. Phil's asleep, so he doesn't know yet.

I want to scream. And cry. And throw things.

WHY?!?!?!

I HAVE to go to London. Seriously. It's what's keeping me going right now. We have a daily countdown. And 42 days (today's number) seems like too long to wait as it is.

This is not my fault. This is the theatre's mistake. And I'm being screwed because of it.

If they had figured it out sooner... If they had TOLD me that I would be understudying this show... If they hadn't gotten my hopes up...

But they failed. And now my heart is aching.

THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME!!!

I CAN'T EVEN WRITE!!!

Please just agree with me. Tell me I'm right. Tell me this sucks. I just need sympathy right now.

May people not put you in painful positions because of their stupidity and general lack of foresight.

~A~

Minding the Gap: Part I

It took me two months to write my Whirled World series. And during that time, life went on. You know, like life tends to do.

I didn't want to interrupt the series with the present day (which is, now, the past). So I guess it's time to begin that process now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finding My Happiest Future


I flew down to Florida for a few days and moved in to my room. All by myself. And I realized that I'm not ready mentally to be where I am in my grad school career.

Brian came to visit me in Connecticut, and it was fantastic. I wish I'd written a post about it at the time. We did awesome things. Like seeing Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes in Promises, Promises. And rotating three different kinds of Frrrozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity3 with his friend Erika. So much fun.

It's rare in life to find people that you connect with on the level that I connect with Brian, and I feel lucky to have him in my life. It's strange to think of everything that happened between us in the past, because it has so little to do with our present. He's one of the best friends I've ever had, and I love him dearly.

My brother Peter came to Connecticut for a bit to hang out with the rest of us. I missed him. I miss him now, too. (Even though he sent me an e-mail recently telling me to tone down how much I write about Phil on Twitter and Facebook... But I guess that's just him trying to be a helpful brother.) It was nice to have my family in one place. There's a good chance that won't happen again until... next May, I think.

I got to meet my long-time internet friend Barry, which was fantastic. He's one of the closest friends I've had that I hadn't ever met. How close are we?
1. I've proposed to him. More than once.
2. After my first PG-13 rated encounter, I remember using Google Chat to ask Barry all sorts of incredibly graphic questions.

So really, it felt more like seeing a friend after a long time than it felt like we were meeting for the first time. We ate in Little Italy. I brought him to New York's TopShop (which is a British store) and we shopped. It was great.

I also visited with a couple of my former roommates who have since moved to NYC. I love them dearly and it was great to see them. I just wish they could be met with more success in the city than they're currently finding.

Phil and I started Skyping regularly as soon as I got home from London. Sometimes twice a day. I worked in the afternoons this summer, so we'd Skype around 12pm/5pm (our respective time zones) and 6pm/11pm. A couple of times, when I had work in the morning, we'd even do 7am/12pm. And it was lovely.

I mailed him the letter I had started writing on the plane. And a couple more letters after that. He seemed to genuinely appreciate them, despite his occasional difficulty in deciphering my handwriting.

One day (July 17th, if you need a mental timeline), Phil wrote me an e-mail. One of those things that I would post here in its entirety if I didn't think he'd hate that. He wrote about how just talking with me put his head at odds with his heart. He wrote that he had two voices in his head: one dreamt of a life with me, the other said to be realistic/cynical/pragmatic and not get in too deep. He wrote that he was scared that he's going to screw things up. He wrote that he was seriously considering coming to visit me in Florida in October, if his work schedule allowed.

And he wrote:

I am thinking about the future we could have. it is scaring me. and it is exciting me.

I just wanted to tell you these things. I hope that's ok.

you are in my thoughts. constantly.

xxx

I won't lie: I cried.

I don't know what happened that turned me into a wet, weepy, blubbery, stereotypical mess of a female... But I am one. I would blame it on being an actor (which, actually, is a darn good reason), but that's not it.

I'm not always a mess. It comes and goes. I cried a lot with Brian (both while we were dating, and in the aftermath of our break-up). But I didn't cry with the Filmmaker. I remember crying when my casting for 2nd-year sucked. I remember crying when I was freaking out about whether I'd get cast in any decent roles this season (which, by the way, I did). I cried when my classmate was getting kicked out of my program.

And now, with Phil... I cry. I cried with him a couple of days after I met him. I cried when I saw him after two weeks. I've cried at so many good things with him. And I've cried at a couple of rough ones. I cry because I break with concepts, and atmospheres, and emotions that I am ill-equipped to handle.

In this particular instance, I the tears were based in that sense of being overwhelmed. After only about 6 weeks of knowing him (and the majority of that time being spent in different countries), he was thinking about a future. And I... wasn't. Not yet.

He's not the first guy who has thought about a future with me while I'm still most definitely focused on the present. The Filmmaker was the same way.

But I wasn't pushed into my tear-laden oblivion because he was pushing me towards a future I wasn't prepared to deal with. Well, at least, that wasn't the only reason. It had more to do with the fact that he wanted me enough to dare to think of me in that light. In that "forever" way. Not that he was signing on for that with that e-mail (far from it; he seemed frightened of his own thoughts and words)... But even that the thought had crossed his mind seemed... touching.

I've talked myself into and out of wanting many things in my life. I've talked myself out of wanting children when I thought I might not be able to have them. I talked myself out of wanting romance because I didn't have the opportunity to date until I was 20. And I had talked myself out of the idea of marriage, because I thought there was no way I could have it.

I don't know where my crazy actor life is going to take me. And, to be honest, there are days when the idea of trying to pursue acting as a profession terrifies me. I don't know how/if this is going to work. But I know for certain that if I were to get married and stop being an actor (in favor of a career where I could live in a single city and have a steady paycheck), I would regret it. And I would end up resenting the person I married. And I would most certainly blame any children I had for my lack of success in life. Yes, deservedly or not, I would blame them. And I know that makes me less than perfect, and probably not the greatest candidate for parenthood.

I wrote him back. I thanked him for the email, and for allowing me to see that he was vulnerable. Most of what I wrote was incoherent babble, looking back at it now. But here's one part:

Being with you is the easy part. And I think that's as it should be. (If being away from you and pining after you were favorable to being with you, then I think we'd be stock characters from Commedia Dell'Arte... but that's another story.)

I don't remember when I did this next part...

I wrote him a letter back. Daydreaming about moving to London.

And he Skyped me as soon as he'd read it, all excited. He wanted to know how serious I'd been.

(To be honest, not all that serious. And I couldn't really remember what I'd written. It must've been one of those random things that I did at 2am when I couldn't sleep.)

But I started thinking about my post-grad-school plans (of which, I had none).

And that's when I began to consider becoming an ex-pat.

He, of course, was hugely supportive of the idea.

But I insisted that I would not (WOULD NOT) move for him. If I were going to move, it would be because it was the best possible choice for me. For my life. For my career. For my happiness.

I made a long list of all of my possible futures. Some of them realistic. Some fanciful. Some absolutely preposterous. They included:

- Move back to Chicago
- Move in with parents in Connecticut as a pit-stop on my way to NYC
- Move directly to NYC
- Move to L.A.
- Stay in Florida.
- Get an offer from my theatre to do a year contract (which is pretty darn unlikely, let me tell you)
- Get an offer from some other random theatre (that I have not yet auditioned for) to be in their summer stock/show/season/company and move wherever that might take me.
- Try to get hired by The Guthrie, The Old Globe, or somewhere else that does mostly classics.
- Move to London

(Not a comprehensive list, but the other options were so out in left field that I can't even remember them now.)

This got narrowed down to four "real" options.

- Chicago
- New York
- Los Angeles
- London

There are major pros and cons to each, of course.

Ranking by feasibility:
1. New York (my parents are close, I know tons of people there... It's easy.)
2. Chicago (I've lived there before. I know the lay of the land. It's the cheapest major city in the world to live in. Piece of cake to go back there.)
3. Los Angeles (I've never even BEEN there. I don't know what's going on there. I know few people there. It's a different world to me.)
4. London (Major legal issues. Visas? Citizenship? And how the heck could I possibly afford it?)


Ranking by desirability:
1. London (I love it there. I've never felt more at peace with myself. I've never been happier in my surroundings.)
2. Chicago (I still think of it as home. And I do have lots of connections there.)
3. Los Angeles (There's something exciting about it.)
4. New York (It just feels wrong. I don't think I'm meant to be there. And everyone I know who is there is struggling, broke, and miserable.)


Ranking by career prospects:
1. Los Angeles (so much more work being done there than anywhere else. Literally more than 4x as many roles being cast for in London than NYC)
2. London (Here, I'm just another 20-something white girl. There, I'm an American, with a built in natural dialect. This makes me a minority, a commodity, and a specialist. And right now, there's a HUGE resurgence of classic American theatre across the pond. During the 6 weeks I was in London, there were 2 Arthur Miller plays, 2 Tennessee Williams play, and 1 Eugene O'Neill play being performed. Additionally, I saw productions of Enron, Eurydice, and Hair that were fully American dialects. And Legally Blonde, Sister Act, Jersey Boys, and the like are all hits over there as well.)
3. New York (I know some very talented people living there, and they're not having any luck.)
4. Chicago (It's just not as good of a place to be in for an Equity actor -- which I'll be when I graduate.)


After I ran all that information through my brain (and more that I haven't bothered to type, being the incessant over-thinker that I am), I decided that it's okay to have lofty goals.

I thought about all the times in my life that I've really taken steps forward in my life, and all of them seemed like times when I was thrown into something new and foreign. I went to a college where I knew no one. I moved to Chicago on two weeks notice, only knowing one of my roommates, not having a job, and having no other friends in the city. I came to grad school not knowing a soul in all of Florida.

Chicago and New York are places where I have friends. I have connections. I have networks. But I think that would make me complacent more than it would help me.

So my list started looking like this:
1. London
2. Los Angeles
3. Chicago
4. New York

Ultimately, even though it's a super-safe, easy route to go, my heart does not want to end up in New York. So I decided to take it off the list. For the moment, at least.

Then I realized that, as much as I love Chicago, something about going back there doesn't feel right. It feels like regression.

So my list became:
1. London
2. Los Angeles
3. Chicago
4. New York


And really, putting London next to Los Angeles, there's just no comparison.

London is easily my happiest potential future.

(And that math had nothing to do with Phil.)


Now, of course, Phil is a writer. And his career could take him to several places. But his list of his possible futures (at the time) was looking like this:
1. Los Angeles
2. London
3. New York

Wouldn't it be just my luck to try to move to London at the same time that Phil was trying to move to the USA?

"But this isn't about Phil," I thought. "This is about me."

I told Phil. He was, in his own words, "chuffed". (It's a positive thing.) I informed him that I would NOT be moving for him. And that even if I could get visas and whatnot in order, it was NOT a guarantee that I would move. I was merely keeping as many doors open to opportunity as possible. He said he understood. Moreover, he said that he would be disappointed in me if he thought I were moving for him. It was lovely. :)

So I started researching. Visas. Internships. Citizenship. I tried to wrap my brain around it, but it's all insane. I started looking into jobs that I could apply for that might get me a work visa. And internships that I can get within a year of graduating that would get me a student internship visa.

And then my dad had a brilliant idea...

My father's parents came over to the USA about a year before my dad was born. And they didn't become US citizens until he was 5. Which means, when he was born, they were still most likely citizens of a country that is now part of the European Union. And therefore, my dad probably qualifies for dual-citizenship. And if my dad becomes a dual-citizen, then I can become a dual-citizen.

You might be asking, "Wait, why does it help her to be an EU citizen?"

Because, my dear friends: the UK is part of the European Union. They don't use the Euro, but it doesn't matter. If you are a citizen of any country in the EU, then you can live and work in the UK without a visa.

In other words: jackpot.

Here's the problem: My father's parents weren't born in a country. They were born in an area that wouldn't become Yugoslavia until several years later. My grandfather's family moved to Germany sometime in the 1940s. I know that my grandmother was hiding out in Vienna, Austria in World War II. But we didn't know if they were German citizens or Austrian citizens. Or neither. And, additionally, historical documents in Germany and Austria right after WWII aren't exactly well-recorded.

My dad started researching that.

And then, on a whim, I started looking into the other side of my family.

All four of my mother's grandparents were born in Italy, and then came to the USA. As it turns out, this means that I am qualified for dual-citizenship with Italy. Unfortunately, it's really difficult. I'd have to acquire 14 different legal documents as proof of this. Some of them (like my birth certificate) are easy to come by. Others (like my great-grandfather and great-grandmother's marriage certificate) will be tough to track down. Obtaining them would cost several hundreds of dollars, and will most likely take about a year.

Still, it's a pretty darn good back-up plan.

So the wheels started rolling. London became more than a dream. It became a serious possibility.


To be continued...


May you find your happiest future,

~A~

Present Perfect

(Me with my good friend Stephen in Times Square, in front of the marquee for the Broadway show he is currently appearing in.)


Last week I was driving home from the theatre, and "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" started playing on the radio. And as I looked at the palm-tree-lined streets, the sunshine, and the A/C setting on my car, I chuckled to myself. At first I thought, "Shouldn't the radio station know better than to play that here?" But a moment later I realized that this is indeed what Christmas looks like. Christmas in Florida looks a lot different from the Christmases I'm used to, but that doesn't mean it's incorrect.

I hopped a plane to Atlanta, and then a second plane to Connecticut. On the latter flight, I actually had the remarkably good fortune of being in "A" (the window seat) with no one in "B" or "C". I decided that this must have been providence, as surely the odds of that sort of thing happening -- especially near a holiday -- must be insane. At one point I sat in the middle seat and stretched my arms out to either side, just because I could. I spent a good portion of the flight length-wise on the seats in "The Child's Pose" that I've been doing as a rest position in Voice class. I'm sure the flight attendants thought I was a loon, but no one said anything to me about it. And I must say, it was incredibly restful. Mission accomplished.

Connecticut is where my family has settled, but it still doesn't feel like home. That said, it's not as painful being here as it was last year (see last year's post, Not Quite Merry and Bright, and the subsequent post of I'll Be Fine and Dandy).

The highlight of the trip was that I got the gift I really, really wanted. The perfect present, in fact. I went to New York and was able to see my friend Stephen in his first Broadway show. Really, what could be better than that?

My parents ended up winning the ticket lottery an hour before the performance, and got discounted seats in the front row, so we all got to see Stephen in it. The show was great. Stephen is a phenomenal dancer, and seeing him up there was unreal. He took us backstage after the show (including into the star dressing room that has been used by the likes of Julie Andrews, Sutton Foster, Tyne Daly, Bernadette Peters, and Reba McEntire). Pretty freaking awesome.

(Stephen's name is totally on it!)

While I was in town, I also saw the Rockefeller tree, ate a pretty amazing chocolate chip cookie, drank hot chocolate that was so thick that it had similarities to pudding, and briefly saw my dear friend Annie in an Urban Outfitters.

(Annie and me. I so wish I looked better in this picture, but oh well.)

We made cinnamon rolls. We made truffles. We played Apples-to-Apples (I played "Helen Keller" on "Visionary"). And my mom and I watched the movie Mamma Mia! on the "Sing-Along" setting. Good times.

The presents I got people ended up going over pretty well (except for one DVD I bought my brother that he already had... but I think that's really just proof that I was on the right track). So I guess my worries were unfounded.

And now? I'm ready to go home. Back to Florida. Back to the 70-degree weather that doesn't make sense in December. It turns out, I kinda like it there... even though it really doesn't look like Christmas.


May you end up somewhere that you like being.

~A~

P.S. Yes, I know that titling this post "Present Perfect" is just as brilliant as titling the other one "Present Tense", and I'm so glad that you noticed just how fabulous I am for coming up with that.

Words Will Be Enough

I had to stop blogging for a bit. To collect my thoughts. To prevent myself from writing things I'd regret. To live life instead of thinking about life.

I was wrong a few posts ago when I said I was done crying. I wasn't. I've cried a few times since then. I'd like to say I'm done now -- I feel like I am -- but I won't make that promise. I'll feel completely fine for long periods of time, and then suddenly feel wrong again. I woke up Saturday feeling fine, and I've been okay since then. Hopefully it'll stick this time.

I could tell you what's happened with Brian in excruciating detail, but I won't. It's not going to help me heal. And it's not helping him any, either. I know he'll understand if I continue to write about him. He'll support my right to use this blog to vent. And I won't stop altogether, because that's not my style. But this blog isn't about him. It's about me.

I will tell you one thing about him... He's gone.

I don't mean from my life; I mean from the country. He's in the armed forces, and he is now on another continent. For a while.

It's probably the best possible thing that could happen for me right now. I can't call him and ask him the same questions ad nauseum (the sorts of "but why?" questions that he's been so kind as to put up with thus far). I can't text him. He was never in reach, but I feel like he's finally been put at a distance. And it's exactly the sort of aid I've needed to get over him. The kind I haven't had before. I'm glad for it. Almost relieved, in fact, that some of the decisions I would've made are being prevented. It'll help us to be friends in the long run.

I'm going to write him letters while he's gone, but I'm not expecting responses. He's going to become my "Mr. Henshaw". I'll write the things I need to write without worrying who's reading them the way I do with this blog. I know I can tell him anything, because I already have. And not having regular responses will be good for me. Not having written things to look back on and agonize over, but rather ones sent off into the void... also good. I hope he doesn't get annoyed by the whole thing. But I'm not too worried about that. I think he'll be happy for any contact he has to the USA while he's gone.

Other than the little I've scribbled to him so far, I haven't written anything lately. I haven't worked on my novel because my emotions were clouding those of my characters. I just kept wanting to kill off characters. Or create situations in which the main character was feeling what I'm feeling. I'm taking space from it so that I won't ruin it. I care too much about what I've written so far to muck it up by using it as therapy.

I'm actually supposed to go to a write-in tonight, where I was planning on picking it up again. But it's been so long since I've just been home for a night... so I'm skipping it. And I'm blogging instead.

I forgot that I missed this. Writing, I mean. It's only been, what, 9 days since I wrote a real post (I'm not counting that filler thing about what celebrities I get compared to... wasn't really my style)? I'm sure many of you didn't even notice the absence (which is fine... I read so many blogs that I often don't notice when people stop posting for weeks at a time). But I noticed it. I've considered forcing myself to blog, but I'm terribly against that. I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I don't blog for you guys, I blog for me. And if I have nothing to say, then I'm not going to say anything at all.

And when I have a lot to say? Well, then you get the mini-novellas that I'm sure you've come to expect from me.

Actually, it feels like longer since I've posted, as I was making a conscious effort not to mention Brian. Censoring myself makes it feel like I'm not really writing at all. It feels too... calculated or something. I don't know.

I have been busy, though. I mean, I've made time to blog in the past when I was busy, but I've had enough distractions that I was able to convince myself that I didn't have time for it. I've been going out and visiting people. I go out to the bar with the TnT cast after every performance.

When I'm not out of my apartment, I'm watching Battlestar Galactica and writing notes for Brian about my reactions to the episode. It's like live-blogging, but with paper and pen. Whenever something pops into my head that I would've texted Brian (or said to him if he'd been in the room), I pause the DVD and write it down. It takes longer to watch an episode than it normally would, but it's kinda fun for me. Makes it feel like an active thing as opposed to just sitting around watching DVDs all day. (By the way, it's an INCREDIBLE show, and I highly recommend it. Also recommend Firefly, which is the other series Brian lent me before running off to fight the bad guys.)

I've started reading It's Called a Break-up Because It's Broken, and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT if you've gone through any sort of break-up and/or heartbreak, even if you were the one who did the dumping. I wish I'd had it during my break-up with Ex #1. It's really, really helpful. Of course, the authors of the book would tell me to stop writing to Brian, but I think I've recovered enough that it's possible to do it now. The hurting I was going through before has lessened significantly. And letter-writing doesn't make me cry the way phone calls would have. It feels like it's helping me heal. I'm gaining closure, and I'm redefining our relationship as one of friendship. In some weird way, it's helping me let go. Counter-intuitive, I know... but I believe that you should "do what works", so I'm going to keep doing it as long as it's working. If it's not working, then I'll become a better student of the book and stop writing him altogether.

(Huh. Wasn't planning to talk about Brian at all, and here I've done mostly that. Ah well. This is where my extemporaneous style brings me, I suppose. Writing about things I didn't intend to write about.)

Anyway.

I'm frustrated that I still have not been assigned a character to train for in Tony n' Tina's. Remember when the director had me watch the nun at a rehearsal? Yeah, that didn't stick. He gave me a new character to watch at last week's rehearsal, bringing my total up to three. I don't think he has any clue what he wants me for. Maybe that's a compliment. I'm versatile, and he knows he can put me in a bunch of places? I don't know. I'm just worried that he's going to keep changing his mind and I'll be on waitstaff until the day I leave.

Speaking of leaving, it's coming up soon. I'm leaving my day job on August 1st. I'll probably stay in TnT for a week after that. But my lease here ends August 15th, and my grad school orientation starts on August 18th. When I originally got this offer from grad school back in February, it seemed so very, very far away. And now it's almost here, and I have so many things to try to squeeze in before I leave.

Part of me feels like a lot has happened since February. But really, I can sum it up in two subjects: Brian, and TnT. That's it. That's all that's changed. I mean, of course I'm over-simplifying (as the last few months worth of blog posts can attest to), but that's the meat of it...

Anyway.

I've made good friends at work recently. Three guys at my day-job eat lunch with me every day now. It's nice to be just one of the guys without having to worry about any of them being The Woodwork Guys. Two are engaged, and the third has a serious girlfriend whom he intends to marry. So for once, I'm the one who carries the label As Good As Gay (or, I suppose, As Good As Male). And I'm just fine with that.

We talk about things that could get us fired if mentioned at the office under the clauses of the sexual harassment policy in place, but that doesn't bother us. For someone of my level of naïveté, I'm not very shy about subjects I'm willing to broach in public settings. Maybe it's because I don't know better... In any case, it makes me fit right in when surrounded by guys with filthy minds and raunchy mouths. That, and the fact that I will jump right in when gauging the physical attractiveness with females in close proximity (the guys call this rating procedure "verifications"). And sometimes before heading back to work, we take a detour through a department store cologne section so that the boys can "musk up". And we have a large collection of private jokes that we discuss in code on our work email accounts. It makes the day go by a bit faster.

I watched the Tony Awards at a bar on Sunday night. I talked the bartender into changing the channel on one of the many televisions dedicated to sports for me. I cheered obnoxiously whenever people I liked were shown. ("You go, Deanna Dunagan! Bring it home to Chicago, baby!") I actually know someone who won a Tony this year, which is exciting. Todd Rosenthal won for set design for the play August: Osage County. He designed the set for a production of The Comedy of Errors that I was in a couple of years back, which is how I know him (not well, but still, I know him in real life). I'd call to congratulate him, but I lost his number when I lost my phone... Oh well.

This was the first time in the past 5 years that I have not donned some sort of fancy dress to watch the Tonys. If I owned a television, I would have. I intend to again in future years. It makes the whole thing more fun if you dress up.

Last night I hung out with some of my novelist friends in the 'burbs playing the video game Rock Band and generally acting like idiots. It was a good time. Of course, I didn't get back to my apartment until nearly 2:30am, and then had a couple of emails that I urgently had to answer... I was pretty useless at work today as a result.

Tomorrow will be intense. I'm going to my day-job from 8:30-11:00am. I have to be at TnT at 11:30am to get ready for a matinee. Then at night, my friend Amanda and I are going to see The Swell Season (Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová, a.k.a. the people from Once who won an Oscar for "Falling Slowly" this year). And after that, I promised I'd go see my coworker (one of the engaged ones) work his night gig: he's headlining as a DJ at some bar.

Thursday I'm going to the "Air One - Blogger Meet Up Chicago" (note: if you are a Chicago blogger and haven't heard about this, let me know and I'll get you the info... there will be hors d'oeuvre's, cocktails and an Italian lesson at the event... and potentially some SWAG), which I've been looking forward to for awhile.

Friday and Saturday I have TnT performances. Sunday will be my first real free day since... Well, I think since I was in Omaha. That'll be nice. It'll give me more time to watch Battlestar Galactica.

Wow. It felt really good to just type all of that. I have a feeling it was painfully boring, but I don't care. I needed to organize my thoughts. I need this.

I love being a blogger.

*sigh*

I feel better.

Alright, I'm going to go watch a little BSG, clean my apartment (yeah, right), and go to bed early (probably a lie).


May you be able to write your cares away.

~A~



P.S. The title is from the song "All the Words" by The Bridges. Their album just came out, and you should totally buy it. They rock. Hard.

P.P.S.
All the words that you said
Made you matter in my head
I was tied to the thought of you
Thinkin’ back to the day
That I found you on my way
To a place I was goin’ to

Simplify all these years
In another round of tears
I’m so lost when it comes to you
Broken in and again
Now you’re everywhere I’ve been
So it’s hard to deny the view

Did you know I had you goin’?
You got your heart back
It was stolen
And there’s nothin’
I can do at all

And it’s still there
On the road we had
And it’s alright
Keep the memories tied to your heart dear
And the words will be enough
~ The Bridges, "All the Words"

Getting Through It

I've been sending myself emails all week of things that I want to write, but I'm not really sure how to write. Instead of trying to weave it together to create something cohesive and interesting, I'm just going to put several of my random thoughts here.

- Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I can't tell you how much your support has helped me get through the past week. I guess break ups are a pretty universal subject. Previously, the most comments I'd gotten on a blog post was 24. And at last count, that post was at 40. You guys are great. I love my friends/readers/dotcomrades!

- I decided not to cry anymore. I'm going to be okay.

- When I push you, it's not because I want you to fall; it's because I want you to push back.
(This one was almost the subject of a post on its own.)

- Everything happens for a reason. Like losing my cell phone in Omaha, for example. When I was at the airport, I looked at all the old text messages I'd saved from Brian. I tried to convince myself to delete them, but I couldn't. Now I don't have to. I don't have to delete the special Platinum Weird ring-tone I had for him, having Kara DioGuardi reminding me to consider "taking chances" whenever he calls (if he ever calls again). I don't have to take him off speed-dial (which I wouldn't have done). Everything was done for me. It's probably all for the best.

- I have entered into the sort of facebook relationship I thought I'd never be in. The kind that used to make me roll my eyes. I am now "in an open relationship" with a girl. My non-sexual soulmate Megan, to be precise. And it's far more comforting than I had anticipated.

- I started reading He's Just Not That into You on the L, and it's actually really helping. Very comforting. Makes me think that Brian was never as interested in me as he claimed to be or thought he was. Makes it seem like I've done nothing wrong, and that someone out there WILL be that into me someday. Rather than being depressing, it actually gives me hope.

- It's really hard to argue with someone who won't argue back. And sometimes, you just really need to argue.

- I ordered two "somethings" from The Something Store a couple of weeks ago. One for me, and one for Brian. He texted me yesterday that he got cuff-links. I got a USB hub, which is about as useful to me as cuff-links would have been. But the "what could it be?" anticipation was worth the money.

- My iTunes keeps playing "Don't Cry out Loud" by Melissa Manchester. Over and over again. What are you trying to tell me, iTunes?

- Took my computer in to The Apple Store because the sound stopped working right while I was in Nebraska. They say I need a new logic board, and that they'd have to confiscate my computer for 5 days. I'm not sure I could survive without my computer for 5 days. My MacBook is like an extension of my body. It even comes to work with me most days, in case I want to work on my novel at lunch. I wouldn't be able to blog, work on my novel, surf the net, watch DVDs, watch television... for 5 whole days? I would surely die. So I'm keeping computer at the moment and hoping that the logic board doesn't just up and self-destruct on me. Because I think I'd have an emotional breakdown if it did. And I've had way too many of those lately.

- After my last two break ups, men started coming out of the woodwork. Ex #2 showed up a couple of days after Ex #1. Brian asked me out the night Ex #2 broke up with me. (Wait, does Brian count as Ex #3?) No men have come out of the woodwork yet this time. Part of me wishes they would, because having juice always gives my self-esteem a temporary boost. And another part of me just wants to swear off men entirely.

- I just realized I probably won't have any romantic male presence in my life until, like, 2011. No point in getting into a relationship in Chicago when I'm leaving so soon (and clearly long distance doesn't work in my world). And once I get to grad school, I know I won't date anyone. Dating a classmate is a horrible idea in a program that small, and I have no desire to date a townie. I guess I'll just remain locked in my celibacy cellar for the next few years.

- Brian did read my last post, despite my warning. And he's upset. I sent him a text to tell him that I'm okay. He wrote back that after reading my blog, he's not. *sigh* I didn't mean to hurt him. I care about him too much to want to hurt him. And I hate that he's upset.

- On the other hand, why is HE upset? Isn't that my job? And why am I suddenly being so mature and cool with everything?

- How can you transition into being friends with someone you were in a non-relationship with? Where is the line between long-distance metaphysical relationship and long-distance friendship? Is it just that during phone calls you don't say what you're wearing and stop mentioning how much you want to hold the other person? If he thought we were never more than friends anyway, this transition shouldn't be too hard, right? So why doesn't he want to talk to me?



And on to our regularly scheduled story-time...

I've been relatively useless at work, but my boss is being really cool about it. I think she understands that I'm not quite in my right mind at the moment. I'll just have to work doubly hard next week to make up for my sluggishness this week.

I went out after work with a bunch of coworkers on Friday, which is something we haven't done since January 2007. And they convinced me to drink. A lot. People just kept handing me beers, and I kept chugging them. I remember beer #7, and I know I kept going after that, but I can't remember how many I ended up having. I remember wanting to text Brian, and them taking away my phone more than once. After that event, I called my friend Ian, thinking it was probably a better idea to call him than Brian. I'm sure most of what I said was completely incoherent... oh well. Ian dealt with it.

For the record, before Friday, I don't think I'd had any alcohol at all since... that night when I put on the blonde wig, drank Midori out of a plastic bowl, and made people music videos on Facebook. I think that was... middle of January. Yeah.

Last night, I had a performance of TnT. I didn't feel up to playing the "Carmella" role that I have created and loved (high energy, low intelligence, cheerful, loves to dance, obsessed with reality television and thinks global warming is a good idea). And as a waiter, I'm pretty free to switch up my character if I wish. So I started a new character based off of some playful conversations I had with Brian using a sort of "black-cent" (her name is "Hot Cocoa", she's from Indiana but thinks she's ghetto, weddings depress her because they remind her that she's single). One of the other Black Staff (Dan, who played Vito) worked out a story line with me (Vito and Hot Cocoa used to date, but he was flirting with too many other women, so she left him) that made the evening particularly amusing.

After the show, I hit up the usual bar with the cast. My friend Dave came out and joined us. I met Dave doing a show a year ago, and he was vitally instrumental to me in getting through my break up with Ex #1. And all the times I've ever spent with him are marked by a common theme: Dave giving me alcohol and getting me very, very drunk. Dave, Dan, Lauren (the SM), and I stuck together for most of the night, and headed to another bar at one point. I don't remember too much, aside from Lauren confiscating my phone from me for the majority of the excursion. Probably for the best. I wish I could remember how much I drank... I'm pretty sure that at least 4 vodka cranberries and a couple of random shots were included.

I had a text conversation with Ex #1 last night while we were both drunk. It's actually the most I've felt like his friend since we broke up. For some reason I told him about Brian via text... because I had been drinking and didn't realize that it probably wasn't a great thing to bring up... But he was cool about it. Said he hadn't heard, and that he was sorry things didn't work out. How weird is it that things ending with Brian may have brought me closer to Ex #1? Didn't see that coming.

I'm going out to lunch in a minute with my friend Daniel. I'm going out later tonight with Cleric. I'm pretty sure I'm meeting up with someone else tomorrow night, but at the moment I'm not even sure who it is (sorry!!! If it's you, please remind me!!! Drinking is frying my memory). And I'm meeting my friend Beka on Tuesday...

Probably best to keep busy. It's a good distraction.

I'm sure there are like 30 more things I want to say, but this is probably good for now.


May you find ways to get through the bad days.

~A~


P.S. Jenn made a lovely little diagram to illustrate how she was dealing with her break up. I made one too. It's not funny like hers. But I made one. I can't make it bigger than this for some reason, but if you click on it you'll see a large version.

Mascara Napkins

You know what's a weird feeling? Crying in public.

Sitting on the stairs of the grey urban jungle outside my office building. Hearing the drilling and horrid mechanical noises emanating from the construction site fifteen feet away. Surrounded by other workers taking their lunch breaks in solitude on the concrete campground. Hoping that none of them can see the tears in my eyes behind my violet-lensed sunglasses. And knowing that they can see them on my cheeks and chin. And wanting to stop, but feeling helpless and unable to.

It's almost as strange a feeling as trying not to cry as I type this, sitting at my desk.

You're the only one who can make me cry. And I know you don't even understand why I'm crying. Not this time.

I bought myself a lunch. I took my laptop outside. I had every intention of having a lovely lunch hour. I've been trying to convince myself that I'm fine. And that I'm overreacting. Because I probably am. But I'm not going to apologize for feeling hurt. That's how I feel.

And I then I called. And then I hung up. And then I cried.

And then I got in an elevator, and a guy I know asked me what was wrong, which is always the last thing I want to hear when I'm trying to calm myself down, because it throws a stick in the floodgates as I'm trying to pull them shut.

The funny thing is, this isn't the first time that someone in my life has done this to me. This is just the first time I've wanted to cry about it.

But I'm not mad at you. I'm upset. And I'm hurt. And I don't understand. And I'm so frustrated by the fact that you don't seem to understand why I'm upset. But I'm not mad.

And I have this bizarre mixture of emotions. Because I care about you too much to ever really be mad at you. And I just want to see you, and hug you, and be around you. But I also want to understand.

Or scream. One or the other.

Damn it. I'm crying again, and I honestly didn't realize it until a tear dripped into my mouth just now. Crying at work. Classy, Angela. And I just blew my nose into a napkin. Yup. Really classy.

I'm wearing my sunglasses at my desk now. I am nothing if not unconventional.

I spent most of yesterday trying to talk myself out of being upset. I bought my favorite pasta for myself at a restaurant that I love and took it home. I watched reruns of LOST that I've already seen. I tried to go to bed early, but I couldn't sleep.

I got up before 5:00am this morning. Yes. That's how torn I am. My insomnia is back in full force. I watched last night's "The Office" and "Lost". I curled my hair, and I did my make-up. I tried to make myself pretty. Even though I'm not going to see you tonight.

It doesn't matter now. My mascara is everywhere. Mostly on the napkins from my uneaten lunch. I'm not going to eat it. I'm not hungry anymore.

My coworker just asked if I'm okay. I told her I was just having a bad day.

Do you see? Do you understand why I'm battling about whether I want to see you? Because I don't know how many chances I'm going to have to be around you, and I don't want to miss them. But I also don't want to ruin them.

I'm working here until 4:45. My call for TnT is at 6:00. I don't have time for this today.

I wish it would rain.

~A~