Honest Scrap Award

A big thank you to Amy for giving me the Honest Scrap Award!



"The HonestScrap award comes with a caveat or two. Firstly, you have to tell your readers ten things about you they may not know, but that are true. Secondly, you have to tag 10 people with the award. Thirdly, let all the people you've given the award to know that they've gotten it (comment on their blogs or something). And finally, make sure you link back to the person who awarded you." (Okay, so I personally added in #3 and #4, but really, that's just common courtesy when receiving/bestowing anything.)



The Ten Things are:

1. I don't handle spicy food well. At all. I like to think that my taste buds are just incredibly powerful and can therefore taste the spice when other people can't. Many things labeled "mild" are, in reality, not mild enough for me.

2. I've some things that are called "great literature", but I don't find them nearly as captivating or entertaining as the sorts of books I prefer to read. I'd rather pick up Harry Potter. Or chick lit. Or young adult novels. Or science fiction. The last two books I read were Bitter Is the New Black and Ender's Game. I just found my old copy of Tomorrow, When the War Began in my parents house, so I think I'm going to reread that.

3. When I was in kindergarten, some boys on the bus teased me by calling me Michelangelo, referencing the then-popular cartoon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There was another girl in my class named Angela, but they never targeted her for some reason. My mother's brilliant solution? She bought me a Michelangelo action figure and got me to love the show. Suddenly, the flustered reaction to teasing turned into, "Yes! I LOVE Michelangelo!" (My mom = superhero)

4. Polka dots make me cheerful. I never actually seek out polka dots, but whenever I see them, they just kinda make me happy. Perhaps I should buy more polka-dotted things...

5. The last post I wrote was post #200... and I didn't realize it until I started writing this one. My grad school blog is at #179 (that's what happens when you blog multiple times a week, kids). My random crap on the internet blog is at #215 if you include everything in the Scheduled folder. And my novel blog that I've pretty much ignored for the last year is at #29.

6. Despite the facts that A. I'm usually far busier than I am now, B. I already have blogs that I can barely keep up with, and C. I use Blogger... I'm actually thinking of starting a new blog (in the style of CakeWrecks) dedicated to bad prom photos... I was thinking of calling it something like "What the Prom?" or "Prom-tack-ular". Why? Because I've saved up about 10 forwarded emails with bad prom photos... And I think it would be fun to put up one a day until I run out (or until people send me more, like the Cake Wrecks chick did). Thoughts?

7. When I was in 2nd grade, I was convinced that I would someday have twin daughters and name them Jessica and Tiffany (it was amusing to me when, many years later, I ended up going to school with a set of identical twins who bore those names). Around 1997, I thought if I had a son I'd name him Tarquin and I'd name a daughter Hedwig. Around 1999, I liked the "name" Anavieve Viana (I can't tell you how much that embarrasses the name-freak in me now). In college I went through a phase where I liked names like Friedrich and Zelda. At one point I had a love affair with Dahlia and Clark. Same with Hazel and Jared. In Roma (when I did as the Romans did), I liked Ginevra and Giacomo. When I moved to Chicago, I really liked the names Jeremy, Bernadette (I would've nicknamed her "Betty", but I think that Ugly Betty has kind of tainted that name), Julie and Malcolm. My favorite male name has been for a while now Henry (and there's a weird part of me that would want to nickname him Helo like on Battlestar Galactica, although I think the sensible part of me would beat the sci-fi fan up for that). My tastes in female names seems to change more rapidly (which is somewhat fitting with the current culture). Today, I'd probably pick something something more elaborate (to fit the times... remember that Olivia, Sophia, and Isabella are popular names right now) but still unusual, like Sabrina, Isadora, Clarissa, or Susannah.

8. Here are the characters I've played (most recent at top) that I can remember off the top of my head:
- Tillie "Tea" (upcoming)
- Laramie "Lara" (upcoming)
- Girl
- Sally
- Pastor Gray
- María "Masha" Sergeyevna Kulygina
- Hildy Matthews
- Mary
- Farina
- Hot Cocoa
- Carmella
- Suzanne
- Carol/Carolyn/Caroline
- Imogen
- Luciana
- Erotium
- Adriana
- Rosalind
- Julia
- The Priest
- Lady Macbeth
- Pfeni Rosensweig
- Diana Barry
- Stepsister Portia
- Violet "Vi"
- Ruthven
- Mrs. Louella Soames
- Digna Ochoa
- Rigoberta Menchu Tum
- Jose Zalaquett
- Marlene
- Abigail "Abby"
- Zot the Robot (yes, I played a robot)
- Fairtone
- Mrs. Myrtle Webb
- Emily
- Ernestina Money
- Miss Susan Barrymore
- Chamka
- Singing Ghost
- Carmel McGregor
- Follies Girl
- Tavern Adult
- Lost Boy
- Peanut Dancer
- Martha's New Clam Chowder Spokesperson
- Anansi the Spider
- The Ugly Duckling
- Peter Rabbit
- The Blue Engine
- The Farmer

I know I'm forgetting some, but I think that's pretty good for an impromptu list.

(Note: I decided a while ago that I would try not to give any child of mine the name of a character that I had played, because it would be too weird. As you can see, this has eliminated several good options.)

9. I have a mouth full of fillings. The dentist I went to for most of my life told me that it's not really my fault. Apparently, I have genetically bad teeth that have deep grooves in the middle, making it easy for cavities to form. I went to the dentist this week (where they told me I'm doing an EXCELLENT job, thank you very much), and the dental hygienist said that the fillings are all small and the cavities really weren't that bad. But then I went to a family practice doctor for a check-up who said he was shocked (SHOCKED) by how many fillings I had, because most people my age grew up with fluoride-fortified drinking water that helped with dental issues. Well, whatever. I blame genetics.

10. I'll admit it: I judge people who heavily align themselves with political parties. It doesn't even matter WHICH party. If someone is too far left, too far right, or too far out into the colorful world of independents, I have a problem with them. I vote based on candidates and issues, which means I end up voting in different directions. People who vote straight down a ticket? It feels like they're looking at politics the same way people look at college football; they've chosen a team, and they want that team to win*. I find myself often trying to play devil's advocate to those people and educate them on grey matter, even if I agree with them on some issues.

*(This seems especially true in presidential elections where people bring up things that have NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS in mud-slinging. Like when a family member of mine pointed out that Barack Obama's parents weren't married. What, exactly, does that have to do with an election?)



So okay... I guess it's time to award people (and also tag them with the meme that comes with it).

1. Valerie from Mixed Salad of Thoughts
2. Heidi from Heidi Renée
3. Jenn from Free and Flawed
4. bFlat from Lens Impressions
5. Roisin from The Beat of My Noisy Heart
6. Angela from My Quiet Testimony
7. P from *Insert My Blog Name Here*
8. Gooseberried
9. Katelin from Gorgeous Footsteps in the Sand
10. Pink Sun Drops

Have fun ladies!



May you be so open and honest in your life that lists like this are seriously hard to come up with. And may you be interesting enough that you can come up with them anyway.

~A~

Names Weekend

Prepare yourself. My snarky side is about to come out. And some of you are not going to like it.

For most people, this weekend is important because of Mother's Day (happy day to all the mothers out there!). But for some of us, Mother's Day weekend is exciting for an entirely different reason: it's the weekend that the Social Security Administration releases the lists of the top 1000 most popular names for either gender from the previous year.

To see the list, click HERE!

Now, as some of you might know, last year I won a Baby Name Pool out of more than 600 entries. You guess three names that are going to rise, and three that are going to fall. And the woman who wrote one of the definitive books on naming has this whole series of calculations to figure out who did best.

I entered again this year, but I did quite badly. My choices were actually pretty solid. I predicted:

Eva would rise (it did. #125 to #117)
Ava would rise (it did. #5 to #4 -- which is a bigger jump than it sounds like)
Aiden would rise (it did. #32 to #27)
Britney would fall (it did. #471 to #564)
Lindsey would fall (it did. #186 to #226)
Hayden (for a boy) would fall (it did NOT. #73 to #71)

I was convinced that the exposure that Hayden Panettiere has gotten over the last year would make people begin to associate Hayden with females, but nope. It's still in the top 100 for boys. Ah, well.

But one false move is not the reason that I'm going to lose. Last year I won despite thinking that Shiloh would magically appear in the top 1000 (it didn't... I jumped the gun. It ended up hitting the charts this year) and that Angelina would rise (it fell a couple of spots). The reason I'm not going to win is because I made a bad call with the name that everyone else picked to be the breakout riser of the year. I thought they were jumping the gun the way I did with Shiloh. Boy, was I wrong.

Miley

I thought it would take another year for Miley to hit the top 1000 after the massive rise of Miley Cyrus this year. But I was SO wrong. After NEVER having been in the top 1000 before, it entered the charts at #278. And not only that... Two sound-alikes showed up as well! Mylie was #861 and Mylee at #556 (I won't even begin to express my disgust at those).

Maybe it was time for a name like Miley. After all, Milo re-entered the charts in 2001 after a 35 year absence and has been on a steady upswing since then (in 2001 it was #981, and in 2007 is was #548).

But it's sort of embarrassing, really. There's no way that those parents can pretend that they "made it up" or got it from another source. Every single one of those girls is named after Hannah Montana. Which will be fine until:
1. Miley Cyrus goes the way of Lindsey and Britney (you know it's possible) and is suddenly NOT something you want your daughter to be compared to.
2. Miley Cyrus fades from the public eye and the name is suddenly dated.

I have a coworker named Tenile (she was named after "The Captain and Tennille"... but spelled differently. Yes, one letter away from "penile"). I rest my case. This is why you should not use a pop culture name. It's a bad idea.

Aside from that, Miley is very much a "girl" name. Not a "woman" name. People forget that their precious little princesses are going to grow up one day, and some names just don't age well. try to imagine a voting ballot in which a 50-year-old woman named "Miley Jones" is running for Senate. Awkward, isn't it? *sigh*

Whenever a name jumps up to the top 1000, it's news. When a name jumps that quickly, it's HUGE news. Like Nevaeh. After P.O.D. front-man Sonny Sandoval mentioned in interviews that he had named his new daughter Neveah -- heaven-spelled-backwards -- it became a phenomenon. In 2001, this little publicized "name" entered the charts at #266. NO ONE saw that coming. And now, in 2007 it was #31. That's gotta be a record. And why does no one seem to mention that spelling things backwards is supposed to be demonic? I don't get it. What I REALLY don't get, is how "Neveah" (haeven spelled backwards?) was #891 in 2007. People are idiots.

The names that entered the charts this year that were not on last year were:

Girls:
Adalyn - (Part of the trend of removing the front-consonant from another popular name..., like Madison/Addison, this is Madelyn/Adalyn/Adelyn)
Adelyn - (Ditto.)
Alannah - (This was only on the list one other time, in 1990, which I'd bet had something to do with Alannah Myles singing "Black Velvet". No idea what caused the appearance this time.)
Aliana - (Aside from the similarities to "alien", sorta pretty.) ETA: Did people start using this as a result of Lindsey Lohan's sister Ali -- short for Aliana? Dear God, say it isn't so!
Allyssa - (Man, people. Learn to spell.)
Alyvia - (Ugh. Ditto.)
Anabel - (The Spanish spelling. Anagram of "be anal")
Antonia - (YAY! A legit, pretty name!)
Audrina - (Stupid reality television. Why would you want to name your daughter after her?)
Azaria - (Like Hank Azaria? You've got to be kidding.)
Azul - (No idea.)
Celine - (After a random appearance for one year in 1931, it left the charts until 1994, when it popped up thanks to a certain French-Canadian songstress. It only had a one year absence for 2006, and now it's back at #986. I wouldn't be surprised to see it fall off again in 2008.)
Delia - (Yay! Another lovely legit name!)
Devyn - (GAH! Badness!)
Dixie - (Watch out! The South is rising again!)
Diya - (It's a type of light that's lit during Diwali. More likely, it has something to do with this chick)
Emmy - (Emily and Emma have been top 10 names for awhile now, so I was surprised to see that the only other year this name was on the charts was 1885.)
Evie - (I prefer it as a nickname. Perhaps it showed up because there are a few celebrities that use it as one. Namely, Evan Rachel Wood and Evangeline Lilly.)
Giada - (I am fully in support of this name -- the Italian form of Jade -- despite the fact that it is celebrity inspired. Giada De Laurentiis seems pretty cool.)
Giuliana - (Gorgeous! Maybe arriving because of the similarity to the popular Liliana?)
Graciela - (Back after a 1-year absence. Technically, it's a nickname for Gracia, but I like it well enough)
Hayleigh - (GAH! There are too many spellings of Haylie and Kaylee on the charts already! AHHHHHH!!!!)
Ireland - (5th appearance since 1998. *rolls eyes*)
Jaeda - (Jada is a Biblical MALE name. I don't know what this is.)
Jailyn - (Because anything with the word "Jail" in it must be pretty.)
Jaslene - (I can't believe I didn't see this one coming after America's Next Top Model winner Jaslene Gonzalez.)
Jaylen - (Well, it's better than Jailyn, but not by enough.)
Jazlynn - (Who did this? I want names.)
Jocelynn - (One "n" wasn't enough?)
Jordin - (Reality television just won't quit. American Idol winner Jordin Sparks is to blame for this misspelling.)
Joseline - (Makes me think of Vaseline. Anyone else?)
Kelis - (Well THAT was a delayed reaction. Has Kelis done anything lately? Anything at all since Milkshake?)
Kylah - (First thought: KY Jelly + loofah.)
Lillianna - (Also on the charts are Lila, Lilah, Lilia, Lilian, Liliana, Lilianna, Lillian, Lilliana, Lillie, Lilly, Lily, and Lilyana. I think I spot a trend.)
Londyn - (That's a stripper name if I ever saw one.)
Madilynn - (Oh, look. They found a way to make the "Mad" part more prominent.)
Marely - (Was this supposed to be Marley? Because it looks like it rhymes with barely. They somehow made "mare" into an adjective. And then used it to name women. How empowering.)
Maren - (This is actually the Danish form of Marina. I wonder if any of the parents who used it knew that.)
Marlen - (According to BehindTheName.com, "Blend of Marx and Lenin. This name was created by Communist parents who were eager to reject traditional names." It used for boys. This is why you should do your research before naming a child. That, and it sounds like a fish, and the male name Marlon -- as in Brando or Wayans.)
Maryjane - (This name was a constant on the charts until the early 1960s, which I'm guessing is when it became part of drug culture. It had a 1-year appearance in 2005, and now it's back. Good marijuana crops last year?)
Miley
Mylee
Mylie
Olive - (First appearance since 1950. Exposure of this came from Little Miss Sunshine as well as the new daughter of Isla Fisher and Sacha Baren Cohen. I sorta dig it. It's a fresher turn on the highly popular Olivia.)
Shiloh
Shirley - (2006 was the only year since 1880 that this name was absent from the list.)
Sky - (Another good stripper name. Makes me think of Marlon Brando in "Guys and Dolls")
Yamilet - (Apparently it means "Beautiful" in Swahili. But to me, it just looks like Hamlet with a Y and an additional syllable.)
Zaniya - (Apparently means "Healthy" in Lakota)
Zaniyah - (Where did these two come from?)

Boys:
Adin - (Aidan, Aiden, Aydin, Ayden, and now this. Just what we needed.)
Amarion - (Because Omarion wasn't creative enough.)
Amos - (Back after a 4-year absence! Yay!)
Bentley - (Naming your kid after a car is not going to make him more likely to drive said car. Unless you want him to be an ironically named chauffeur.)
Dax - (First appearance since 1978. Scarily might have something to do with this guy. *shudder*)
Daxton - (Because Dax wasn't unusual enough? How did MULTIPLE PEOPLE think this was a good idea?)
Dereon - (Why are people naming their sons after Beyoncé's women's clothing line???)
Dimitri - (Variant of the Russian name Dmitriy.)
Eliezer - (Oooh! A great Old Testament name. Happy to see it!)
Eliseo - (Totally legit. The Italian/Spanish form of Elisha.)
Elvin - (Means "elf friend". No, I did not just make that up. Interesting choice.)
Emery - (Not wild about this name, but I'm glad to see it on the boys list again. It's been absent since 1982, and is now #962. Distressingly, it's #571 for girls.)
Fletcher - (Back after a 3-year absence, following the trends of "surnames" and "olde English occupations". A fletcher was an "arrow maker".)
Fisher - (Back after a year. Ditto on the surname/occupation trendiness.)
Immanuel - (Maybe these parents just really like Kant?)
Isaak - (The German/Russian spelling of Isaac.)
Jagger - (Back after a 2-year absence. I bet you can imagine what celebrity inspired this one.)
Jaidyn - (GAH!!! It was painful enough to watch Jayden make a MASSIVE leap this year. Did Jaidyn really have to appear as well?)
Jaren - (This is what happens when you put Jared and Darren in a blender.)
Jarvis - (Apparently a derivative of Gervaise. I find it unattractive.)
Jax - (As in "Beakman and Jax"? Dude, Jax was the chick.)
Jaydan - (I think you know I'm upset.)
Jayvion - (I'm stumped.)
Jayvon - (Ditto)
Kelan - (No idea.)
Kellan - (I went to school with a Kellan, so this actually doesn't bother me as much as it probably should. Might have something to do with this guy, but I doubt it.)
Kelton - (Oh, wait, I have an idea. Are these three just so that people can use the nickname Kel without resorting to Kelly? Like this guy?)
Killian - (They really want to emphasize the "kill" in Cillian. Probably legit, but I don't understand why it's desirable.)
Kingston - (Blame Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale for naming their son after the capital of Jamaica.)
Lyric - (Another confusing one. It's been on the girls list since 1995. Usually, boys names are stolen by girls, not the other way around. I'm actually going to applaud the wretched name as being a sign of the women's movement instead of weeping at how terrible it is.)
Madden - (Despite the "Mad" part, men convinced their wives to name boys after this guy. Or maybe after his video games, which is even more disturbing.)
Mariano - (Yay hooray! Back after a year.)
Nery - (This one is all this guy.)
Nikolai - (This is Nikolai's first appearance on the chart. I bet it had nothing to do with Gogol, but I don't know where else it would've come from.)
Raiden - (Follows the "ends in -ayden" trend. Makes me think of Raid. And also like it's a verb. "We were just raidin' the pantry for snacks.")
Rayan - (Really? People didn't recognize how much it looks like rayon?)
Reilly - (Originally entered the charts in 1996, and is now back after a year. Probably falling off in popularity because Riley is #52 for girls. Barf me.)
Rishi - (Maybe in the news because this actor received a few Lifetime Achievement Awards this past year?)
Ronin - (Really?)
Slade - (Aside from sounding like a cross between "slash" and "blade" -- two things that every child should live up to -- also a British glam rock band. Do your research, people.)
Tegan - (Another instance of a girl name showing up on the boy list. Go figure. It's a Welsh female name, meaning "fair")
Turner - (Another surname. I'm guessing that the dictionary would list it as "one who turns". Back after a two year absence.)
Vince - (Back after a 15-year absence. *sigh*. Give your kid a full name, so that they have options. Vincent. Vincente. Vincenzo. There are better choices here.)
Yael - (ANOTHER girl name? This is an Old Testament name of a woman who killed the captain of the Canaanite army. And ten bucks says they're mispronouncing it as "Yale")
Yurem - (Might have something to do with this kid?)



The other two huge jumpers of the year were Jayden and Addison.

Jayden follows the current "ends in -ayden" trend for boys. Someone else on a naming board I frequent posted the following compilation:

"There are now 7 different ayden names in the top 1000, 41 including spelling variants.

Jayden 26148 total(10 spellings) This puts it ahead of Jacob.
Aidan 29371 total(10 spellings) This puts it way ahead of Jacob.
Brayden 12748(7 spellings)
Hayden 6657(3 spellings)
Caden 17755(9 spellings)
Zayden(at 588 ) 426
Raiden(at 923) 210

80,567 total"

That makes my soul hurt. Well, not Aidan. Or even Aiden. But Zayden, Brayden, and Raiden... GAH!

As for Addison, it's been on a steady incline over the last several years, particularly lately with the exposure through Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice. In fact, a friend of mine just named her daughter Addison last week.

2006: Addison #28 (7,599 girls)
2007: Addison #11 (11,823 girls)

So even though a 17-place rise doesn't look massive on paper, by number of births it's a 55.6% increase. In one year. Holy cats!

And it's worth noting that Addisyn, Addyson, Adison, and Adyson are also on the chart.

ETA: I can't believe I forgot to mention my biggest pet peeve about Addison... There's a disease with this name. It's not far off from naming your kid Parkinson. Almost makes the fact that it's a surname meaning "son of Adam" not matter.

I was excited to see Madison bumped down from the top 3 for the first time since 1999. It fell to number 5 as the result of the rising of two lovely names: Ava (now #4) and Isabella (now #2). I'm always happy to see nice names at the top.

Madison is a particular foe of mine much in the same way that Nevaeh is. You see, Madison entered the charts in 1985, the year after the movie Splash came out. In the movie, the female lead (played by Daryl Hannah) is a mermaid who starts living amongst people. After walking down Madison Avenue, she decides that her English name should be Madison (as humans cannot pronounce her Mermish name). Tom Hanks' character announces that it is "not a name!", but she insists. So parents decided that it would be a "unique" name for their daughters. And it has been taking over ever since.

People seem to ignore the fact that it means "son of Maud". And the fact that it is "not a name". Nope. Now it's sparkly. They nickname their daughters "Maddie", and they think it's cute. It has been a top 10 name since 1997, and most people who use it now have probably never even seen Splash.

Ah, well.

Part of me is glad that lovely names like Bernadette (off since 1983) and Linus (off since 1940) have still evaded notice. Maybe that means that if I ever have children, they won't be too popular to use. *crosses fingers*

If you're interested in finding names that ARE NOT in the top 1000, I started making a list a couple of years ago when I was in my name-obsessed phase (back when I was writing a book on names). I haven't updated it in far too long, so it doesn't reflect the things that have entered and exited the charts the last couple of years. Maybe I'll get around to it at some point. In any case, it's a good place to start.

Go here for the list, and marvel at all the work I put into it.

That's all for me right now. If I think too much more about names, I'll get depressed.


May you be wise enough to put some thought into all the naming that you do.

~A~

How Not to Do Improv

This is my 100th post! Honest to blog. Can you believe it?

It seems like most several bloggers who are newer than I am to the sport have gotten to this point before me, but that's what happens when you only post semi-weekly (and let's be honest, you all wouldn't read this blog if I posted this much on a daily basis. I'm sure most of you do a fair amount of skimming and scanning as it is... not that I blame you). And I wouldn't have hit the 100 mark this quickly if I hadn't done NaBloPoMo back in November (those entries were much shorter, obviously).

Part of me wanted to do a 100 list like some other bloggers have done (like Carrie Lea). But really? I don't want to. I've done that sort of thing before (if you're interested -- and I know you are -- read Nobody Knows Me at All and Me, Me, Me, Meme-ee... or most of my NaBloPoMo posts, which were just a large collection of randomness).

The other reason I'm not doing the 100? Because I have a story to tell. About my callback for Tony n' Tina's Wedding.

In case you've never done theatre, an audition is a cross between an athletic "try-out", a job interview, and a exam. In short, it is serious, occasionally stressful, and can be completely nerve-racking.

This callback was going to be improv-based. That's like knowing you have a test, but not having a clue as to what the questions are going to be. And some people are better at BS-ing their way through than others.

There were 12 people called back: 8 girls, 4 guys (unfortunately for me, there are always way more talented girls than guys... totally not fair). I was paired with one of the guys. Let's call him Chuck (as Chuck seems to be the "Everyman" name of the moment... Did you realize how many characters popped up in television and movies in the last couple of years named Chuck? I did. Chuck is the new John).

I asked Chuck about his experience with improv. He said that he really enjoyed it, although he had no formal training. And he was planning to take a class at Second City soon. I told him that I took a class in college in Acting Improvisation, which is different than improv comedy. I know how to think on my feet, create a scene without a script, and listen well to a partner. But I have no background in making that improvised scene comedic. He seemed nervous about this, so I assured him that I'm a pretty funny person (at least, I think I am), and that I was sure it would be fine.

When it was our turn, we headed out into the room with the director and stage manager. The director said he'd basically give us rules for "improv games", and then we'd create scenes based on the rules he'd given us. He said that the most important skills in improv are listening, accepting, and connecting with your partner (which I already knew, but it was nice of him to let us know what he was looking for).

Game #1: The director told Chuck and I to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and then kneel in that position. He said we were trapped in a 4x4x4 box. One of us was desperate to get out. The other shouldn't care much about getting out, and might even like to stay in it.

Chuck leans over to me and whispers "desperate", which I guess was his way of claiming the character he wanted to play instead of just letting us figure it out organically. Fine by me. Then Chuck starts making hyperventilating sorts of noises and saying, "I've got to get out of this box!" emphatically, over and over again. (Seriously? He couldn't be any more interesting or creative than that?)

I start trying different tactics to get him to stay in the box. I started off by saying it's cozy and trying to pet him.

Then I suggested we play a game to pass the time, and listed off a bunch of games that you couldn't possibly play in a box and being generally ridiculous ("Mother May I? Oh, no that wouldn't work... Red Light Green Light? Whoops, I guess that's kind of the same thing... Simon Says? I'll be Simon! *he thrashes* Okay, fine. YOU be Simon.").

Then I tried singing to him to calm him down. At that point, Chuck somehow managed to knee me in the face (how he did that while KNEELING is beyond me), so I said, "okay, okay. I didn't think my singing was THAT bad".

And then I suggested cuddling. I contorted my body into some insane positions trying to cuddle while still staying inside this box (at which point the stage manager started laughing hysterically).

Throughout all of this, I don't think Chuck said anything other than "I've got to get out of this box." And then for some reason, he flipped over onto his back (did he break out of the box???), and the director cut us off.

Game #2: The director said, "Chuck, in front of you on the floor, there is a broken vase. You KNOW that Angela broke it. You KNOW that. Okay? Angela, you KNOW that Chuck broke it. And if either one of you can convince the other that they did it, you deserve a million dollars."

So I started out swinging. "I can't believe you broke my favorite vase just to retaliate for last night!"

And then Chuck replied, "It wasn't me! It was... It was George!"

Um, excuse me, WHAT? Chuck was supposed to think that I broke the vase. AND WHO THE HELL IS GEORGE???

I just kept insisting that it was Chuck, and getting mad at him for blaming George (whom I tried to establish as his brother). What else could I do? Eventually the director stopped it.

Game #3: The director says he will give us several different locations to create scenes in, and says there are three rules we have to follow:
1. You are not allowed to ask questions to gain information from the other person.
2. You have to say "yes" to everything the other person says, not denying anything.
3. You're not allowed to say anything completely nuts. There can't suddenly be a monkey in an Elvis suit hanging from a chandelier.
(Easy enough, right?)

Situation #1: We're on a blind date.

Chuck: So, do you want to go in?

(What happened to no questions?)

Angela: Sure. This is a really nice place.
Chuck: What do you think of that lighting fixture?

Um, HELLO? NO QUESTIONS! And is that random, or what?

He then proceeded to point at an ACTUAL LIGHTING FIXTURE that was in the room, and begin DESCRIBING it. WTH??? This is blind date! This has potential to be an interesting situation, if you were to just CONNECT WITH YOUR PARTNER. But no, he wanted to check out this lighting fixture.

I couldn't lead him by asking questions, so I tried other methods, like "Yes, it is interesting. You know, it reminds me of something, but I can't think of what." But he ignored these prompts of mine, and started replying with non-sequitors (which is 1. not accepting what his partner was giving, and 2. completely random). At one point he said, "I really like you." It was out of no where, but at least he started connecting! And then the director cut us off.


Situation #2: We're in a psychiatrist's office.

Since Chuck had determined before that he wanted to be the "desperate" guy in the box game, I figured I'd take a cue from him on whether he wanted to be the doctor or the patient. Then he speaks... "So... You been in this waiting room long?"

First of all, that's another question. Second, that is possibly the LEAST INTERESTING SCENARIO you can come up with in a psychiatrist's office. WHAT???

But I have to work with it.

Angela: I'm next.
Chuck: No, you're not.

Um, what happened to saying "yes" to what your partner says?

I start fidgeting and acting really high-strung and potentially crazy (without going overboard).

Angela: I've been waiting forever. I need to be next.
Chuck: I've been coming here for years, so I guess you don't know how things work around here. Rosemary! Rosemary, tell her I'm next!

Dude, WHO THE HELL IS ROSEMARY??? Chuck begins having half a conversation with this imaginary woman instead of talking to me.

Part of me wanted to act like he was delusional and had an imaginary friend, but I felt like that would be breaking rules #2 and #3 at the same time, so I didn't. Eventually, the director mercifully cut us off.

Situation #3: We're in a courtroom in front of a judge.

I decided I should say something before Chuck the Brilliant misunderstood directions and tried to have us getting married at City Hall or something. I figured it might work if I were the prosecutor and he were the defendant. So I started off saying something...

Angela: Your Honor,...
Chuck: *interrupting* It wasn't us!

So Chuck has now made the scene into BOTH of us being prosecuted together? For some mysterious crime? GAH!!!

I went with it. I tried to be funny, saying nonsensical things.

Angela: See, we couldn't have done it, because we were together the whole time. And I can vouch for him, and he can vouch for me, and that's, like, totally a rock solid alibi. Right?
Chuck: We were cleaning up the vase that George broke!

WHAT??!?!??!?!?!?!?

The director stopped us pretty quickly after that and said they'd call people within the next week.

As we walked out, Chuck turned to me and said, "I think that went really well! Hope to see you again soon!" Did he just... imply... that we might both get to the next callback round? Yeah... Good luck, Chuck. (Or, perhaps, "sorry, Charlie" is more in order.)

I have a feeling that all of that was much worse in real life than it seemed in typed form, but hopefully you get the gist of it. If that audition had been a test, Chuck failed. And as his partner, I don't think I was able to salvage my own grade.

I did get something out of the experience: I learned that I'm not bad at improv. I was worried, but really, I was fine. It was my partner who was the dunce. I pulled out some things that were pretty funny (most of them wouldn't be funny if typed... you had to be there). And I'm very good at following prompts, changing tactics, and staying in the scene. So that's good.

Needless to say, I haven't heard back from Tony N Tina's Wedding. Nor do I expect to, based on that train-wreck of a callback.

Ah, well. It's probably for the best. If they cast you, they want you to stay in it for 9 months or so. There's no actual contract, but that's what they expect... in the past, some people have been in it for over 10 years. The shortest length anyone could remember was one girl who was only in for 5 months. Me? Well, seeing as how I'm moving to Florida in about 3.5 months, I don't think I'd necessarily be a great investment for them. So either I'd fess up and they'd renege the offer, or I'd be lying to them the entire time and act like I wasn't leaving... So it'll be easier not to get an offer.

Besides, I think the assistant stage manager was hitting on me. "You have my cell phone number, right? You know, in case you have questions about anything. Even if it's at like one in the morning, you can call. Actually, even if you don't have any questions, you could call." At one point he actually said, "Are you on MySpace? Because if you are, I'd like to stalk you on it." I thought he was joking, and responded in kind, until he said, "No, I mean it. I'd really stalk you on it."

Luckily, I only have Facebook, and he's not on that. But my goodness. As nice as it is to know I still have some juice flowin' and mojo poppin'... I could do without this. I've had a few guys try to hit on me lately. And they were all nice enough... but really, I'm just not open to it at the moment. (In fact, I'm so closed off to it that I haven't even blogged that it's been happening. And if it's not in the blog, it doesn't exist, right?)

Maybe he wasn't hitting on me at all... Maybe that's just the way he is? You never know.

As I left, the ASM said, "I hope you get cast. I REALLY mean that." Thanks, buddy.

After the callback, I decided I needed some "me time". So I did something awesome: I went to see a movie by myself. This is the second time I've done this, the first time being Juno back in February.

In case you have never experienced such a thing, I recommend doing it at least once. It really is rather liberating. And I chose an independent film, as I thought I was being rather independent with this action. So I saw Snow Angels. It wasn't bad. Sam Rockwell was really rather tremendous in it, albeit creepy as all get out. And for some reason, I feel as though I can relate to Olivia Thirlby as an actor. Between her characters in this and Juno... I don't know. But I'm drawn to her somehow.

Sadly, I had the misfortune of being seated next to an older couple who periodically dug into noisy plastic popcorn bags, loudly asked each other, "What's going on?", and irritated me to no end. As I was leaving the theatre, I heard them saying it was the worst movie they'd ever seen. I still haven't fully collected my thoughts on the film, but I know one thing: I liked far more than those folks did.

And I have a feeling that they'd be terrible at improv.


May you be willing to listen, accept, and connect.

~A~


P.S. I considered making the title "One Hundred Easy Ways". There's a song from the musical Wonderful Town called "One Hundred Easy Ways (to Lose a Man)". But then I realized it really had nothing to do with the post at all... Anyway. The thought was there.

P.P.S. I have moved my blog roll to a post, because it was just getting ridiculous. But if you ever need to waste time and you think you've gotten to the end of the internet, my blog roll is going to save you. It's super long, and could easily absorb several hours. There's a link to it in my side bar for easy access. Let's just call it post #101.

P.P.P.S. For those who asked in the comments of my previous post: I have a really great monologue that I used for grad school auditions. I call it my "hockey monologue", and it fits my psycho-physical rhythm extremely well. It's a girl who's obsessed with a professional hockey goalie, and believes that they have some sort of connection. I have to cut it down for length for most auditions, so I do a part in which she talks about how much she loves his warm-up rituals, and how she knows that he does them just for her. I'm really great at it, and I get laughs every time I perform it.

P.P.P.P.S. In case you don't believe me about the Chuck phenomenon, here are a few instances from the last year, just off the top of my head: The television show Chuck; the movie Good Luck, Chuck; the movie I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry; the female lead on the delightful show Pushing Daisies; Charles Schwab's "Talk to Chuck" campaign; the manipulative hottie on Gossip Girl.

Me, Me, Me, Meme-ee

So I've been tagged three times for a meme. I had no idea what a "meme" was, or even how it was pronounced ("meem", rhymes with "seem"? "me-me", like the character Mimi from La Boheme/Rent?). Lucky for me, one of the people who tagged me had similar questions and looked it up.

meme (meem) A cultural item that is transmitted by repetition in a manner analogous to the biological transmission of genes.

meme (mēm) A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

Anyway, since I've been tagged THREE TIMES (apparently the cosmic forces of the universe would like nothing more than for me to do this) I figured that I should probably take on the challenge. And since I was challenged three times, I shall do thrice the work. But if anyone tags me again, I'm not doing it. Sorry. Three times in one sitting is enough.

I have been given three different sets of instructions, but they all basically amount to this...

1. Provide a link to the person who tagged you, and spell out the rules of the meme on your blog.

2. Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

3. Tag seven random bloggers with this meme and post links to their blogs at the end of this post. (If you need help finding people, you can use the NaBloPoMo Randomizer)

4. Let those who have been tagged know so by leaving a comment on their blog and telling them where to find information regarding the meme they are now expected to do.

I get it. It's like a chain letter, but for blogs. I'll play this little game.

Now, anyone who has been paying attention to my blog knows that over the course of the last month, I've basically listed 90 random facts about myself. And now, instead of the requisite seven, I'm going to write 21 more. Which means I'm a masochist. And I've had to be creative to come up with new things (lots of reaching into the past... and a few things that, when listed together, make it seem like I'm a horrible braggart. Please forgive me, but those were the only things I could think of that I never would've mentioned otherwise). It also means that a bunch of strangers on the internet are about know nearly as much about me as my parents do.

Okay, here goes.

The blogs that tagged me are:
- Under the Stars
- Ramblings Of A Madman
- Sanity

And I'm sure the three of them would appreciate a little extra traffic to their blogs (what blogger wouldn't?), so if you're in a "surfing the net wherever it may take me" kind of mood, stop by and check them out.

Anyway. Here is my list, times three...

1. My favorite color is cerulean.

2. My favorite movie is Animal House.

3. My favorite song is "I Want to Save You" by Something Corporate. (Although I always have a few favorite songs "of the moment" as well... Right now, those are "As Things Collide" by Kara's Flowers, "Ruby Blue" by Roisin Murphy, "Kicking the Heart Out" by Rogue Wave, and "Paperweight" by Joshua Radin & Schulyer Fisk... a few of which can currently be listened to on my ProjectPlaylist above).

4. My favorite singer is Natalie Imbruglia. (I love, love, love her)

5. My favorite food is day-old reheated chicken fried rice (preferably from Oodles of Noodles on Clark Street) with melted butter and red wine vinegar (although I'm currently testing out a vegetarian lifestyle and therefore cannot have it... which is one of many reasons I probably won't be able to last forever as a vegetarian).

6. My favorite book has probably changed to Bridget Jones' Diary, although the Harry Potter series holds a special place in my heart as well.

7. When I was in seventh grade, I made it into the State Honors Choir. I was in my school's highest choir in high school. I was a member of two different vocal groups that made it into the Michigan Youth Arts Festival. And upon entering college, I made it into the highest choir there as well. Despite all of this, it took me until I was a junior in college to get over my fear of singing solos and my hatred of my own voice.

8. My dad bought me a copy of The Odyssey when I started fifth grade. I remember reading it with a dictionary at my side. I got frustrated, and didn't end up finishing it until I was in seventh grade. I did a book report on it, because I was a very strange and ambitious child. I then decided to read The Iliad, and attempted to write a book report on that, which was the dumbest idea in the world (do you know how much STUFF happens in that thing? Very hard for a detail-oriented middle-schooler to summarize). The Odyssey was required reading in ninth grade, so I remember feeling pretty superior to my classmates, seeing as how I'd read it years before. (I felt a similar emotion when Hamlet and Macbeth were required, as I'd read them already. In fact, I think I'd done a book report on Hamlet in middle school as well. Thankfully, my teacher stopped me before I did a report on The Book of Genesis, which had been my plan).

9. I have bad TMJ issues, and my jaw can make very loud clicking noises if I want it to. Once I demonstrate it for people, they usually ask me to never do it again in their presence. And sometimes it happens when I yawn. Or when I scream. Mostly I think it's funny, but there have been a couple of times that it has happened in embarrassing and awkward situations.

10. I'm pretty good at walking on stilts, I'm excellent at limbo, and I've done a fair amount of dancing in my life. Therefore, I like to think that I have good balance. But then sometimes when I'm walking, I trip over nothing. So I guess that negates it.

11. If I had to describe myself in one word, I'd pick "analytical". (I told my dad that last week. He said that to him, that means that I "think like a man." I didn't know whether to be offended or proud. Instead of being either, I lightly scolded my dad for being sexist.)

12. I can pick up card games extremely quickly. For example, I watched one game of Euchre and played the second, without any explanation. I think it's because my father taught my brothers and I card games when we were pretty young. I could play Hearts, Five-Card Draw, Five-Card Stud, and Seven-Card Stud by the time I was in second grade. Most of my peers at the time were just getting the hang of Solitaire, War, and Uno.

13. I have several weird physical tricks I can do. I can cross one eye at a time. I can raise one eyebrow (and I do it constantly without thinking about it). I can wiggle my ears. I can make my thumb and pinky go in a straight line. The fingers on my right hand are double-jointed (they weren't when I was younger... I think they were trained somehow by years of holding a cello bow). I can go "en pointe" in bare feet (I've been able to do it since I was a kid. I'm fairly certain that it's terrible for your feet, but I do it anyway to entertain myself). And I can over-bend my knee, tuck my toes under my lowest rib, and let my leg stay there (I used to be able to do it with both legs at the same time and walk on my knees, but I think I did something to my cartilage, because it hurts way too much to attempt it now).

14. As I've mentioned before, I was a playwright in high school. In one of the one-act competitions took part in, I was the first person in the history of the festival to end up in the finals twice (2001 and 2002). I once won $400 for a play I wrote (I bought my first iPod with that money). And I actually have two copies of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare that I was awarded as prizes from those contests (come to think of it, I loaned one of them to my former boyfriend during senior year of college, and I think he still has it... Doesn't matter. I have another.)

15. I'm a pretty fast reader. I don't notice that I'm fast, but other people comment on it a lot when they observe me read (or when they're reading things at the same time as I am. Like when each of the Harry Potter books came out, for example).

16. When I was in high school, my choir performed at Carnegie Hall. It was one of the coolest experiences of my life.

17. When I was in seventh grade, Al Roker interviewed me from the random crowd that gathers around The Today Show. My parents wouldn't let me go on a class trip to Washington D.C. (can't remember why), so instead my dad had taken me to NYC for the weekend. I made a sign that said "I Skipped D.C. for NBC". Al loved it. I got to speak with Katie Couric, Matt Lauer, and Ann Curry off camera as well, and I got my picture taken with each of them. Ann was especially nice to me. She said, "Go for your dreams, kiddo, because when I was your age, I wanted to be doing exactly what I'm doing now, and I never thought I could." I've never forgotten that.

18. I've been nominated twice for the Irene Ryan acting scholarship competition through the American College Theatre Festival . Sadly, I didn't make it past the first round.

19. I received the "Excellence in Theatre Award" when I graduated from my college. My name is on a plaque in the "center for the arts" there. Every time I go back to the school, I make a point to visit it.

20. Out of more than 600 entries, I won the baby name pool last May on Baby Name Wizard Blog. (See? I told you I knew a lot about names.)

21. A list I sent in to To-Do List Blog was posted today. Woo-hoo! I started writing it in 2002, right after I graduated from high school. The "Green Party", and the "Denial Party/Ice Cream Social" were thrown that summer. The "Sexy Party" was thrown in July at my old apartment. And the other parties... well, I don't know. Maybe I'll get around to them one day.


Alright. And now for the last part of this. I'm going to tag 21 people to continue this meme.

Note to the people I'm tagging, I don't actually care if you do this or not (although really, you might as well. It's not like it's hard. I came up with 21 items, so surely you can come up with 7). But maybe this will drum up a little traffic for your blogs (you never know), so please don't be annoyed with me for tagging you.

1. Docket Full of Grumbles
2. Heidi Renée
3. In the Praise of Surviving the Day
4. Informed But Unimportant Musings
5. insight into my world
6. mambo palace
7. Master of Sellotape
8. Not the Boy Next Door
9. Sometimes I'm Not Myself
10. Suggs
11. Tainted by Possibility
12. The Angry Pirate
13. The Chaotic Libra
14. The Daily Dish through my eyes (and Tonka's)
15. The Lunar Gemini
16. Whatever and Ever, Amen
17. A Passive-Aggressive Life
18. Cogito, Ergo Sam
19. Mixed Salad of Thoughts
20. Retentive Wrimo
21. EleKtrofly


Yay-hooray! Let the games begin.

Much love,

~A~

Tatiana, the Dyslectic Introvert

64. My mother wanted to name me “Liesl” or “Tatiana”. My father vetoed both names. He wanted to name me “Angela”, and since it had familial significance on both sides of the family, he was able to convince my mother that it was a good idea. (Strangely, Tatiana had familial significance on my dad’s side, and that’s exactly why he didn’t want to use it. He thought one Tatiana in a family was enough.)

I wonder if I'd be the same person with a different name. Would people have treated me the same throughout my life? Would I have reacted in the same ways? I honestly believe that our names help mold us as people (and I'm very glad I didn't get stuck with a horrid name, like Brooklyn or Heavenlee or something). I wonder what this blog would’ve been called if I had a different name… Off the top of my head, probably “Liesly Amused” or “Tatianalytical”. (What? I might’ve had a different name, but I’m sure I’d have the same corny sense of humor and love of wordplay. My grandfather instilled them in me from a very young age, and I’m sure he would’ve done so regardless of my name.) If I had been named Tatiana, I probably would've tried to institute the nickname "Tia" somewhere along the line (instead, I spent a period of time in fourth grade trying to get the nickname "Angie" to catch on, and dotted the "i" with a heart. Luckily, I grew out of that phase. And I've also had many people in my life call me Aiea, but that's a story for another day.)

65. Is it possible to be simultaneously introverted and exhibitionistic? Because if so, I think I am. It does seem rather counterintuitive (and also counterproductive). One of my readers (thanks Andrew!) sent me an article several weeks back about being an introvert (after I wrote my entry titled Angela Rigby), and I've been wondering since reading it if these two personality traits can coexist. (I’ll have to extrapolate on this when I’m back to regular posts. Remind me.)

66. In medical terminology, if someone has a condition ending in “–xia”, then when you use the word as an adjective, you replace “-xia” with “-ctic”. Therefore, someone with anorexia is anorectic (NOT anorexic), and someone with dyslexia is dyslectic (NOT dyslexic). One of those things you learn when your parents are in the medical field… Go out into the world and show off your new knowledge.

Fateful Birthdays

I’m sitting at my computer drinking Jolly Ranchers (Midori & cranberry, my new signature drink) out of a waxy paper cup. I don’t believe I’ve ever had the desire to drink alone before, but it seemed like a good occasion.

Today is my birthday. As of 7:33am, I will have completed my 23rd trip around the sun.

I’ve always rather liked my birthday. 10-25. A dime and a quarter. Seems sort of perfect. And 1984 is a fun year to have been born, as I enjoy leap years and prophetic literature.

I love that I was born in autumn. It’s by far my favorite time of year. It’s such a festive season. Colored leaves are like nature’s confetti. They’re beautiful while still in the trees, and when they begin to drop it’s almost like a constant fall of rain (and I’ve mentioned how much I love rain). I find it to be simultaneously calming and exciting. I want to cocoon myself in a big pile of leaves. If I weren’t in a city, I’d grab a rake right this very minute.

My birthstone is Opal (although the “alternative” is Rose Tourmaline. And the closest to my birthstone that I’ve ever received as a gift was Rose Quartz. That’s a pity, as I rather like opals). My birth flower is either Camellia, Cosmos, or Calendula (marigold), depending on where you look. I was born in the Chinese Zodiac year of the Rat.

I share a birthday with Adam Pascal (the original Roger in “RENT”), Barbara Cook (another Broadway star), Pablo Picasso, Georges Bizet, Michael Boatman (I only know who he is because I was addicted to Celebrity Mole... and I’m not ashamed of that), Helen Reddy (she is woman, hear her roar), Ciara (yick), and Conchita Campbell (the girl who plays Maia, the clairvoyant child, on The 4400).

And here’s something interesting. I was born on the same day (and in the same year) as two people I met in college. All three of us ended up in the extremely tiny theatre department of a very small Catholic women’s college. That’s the kind of coincidence that could tempt you to trust in horoscopes.

Now, generally, I don’t believe in horoscopes or the zodiac (what’s the difference? I honestly don’t know what those words actually mean). First of all, I’m fairly certain that they’re against my religion (“Thou shalt have no other Gods before me” and all that). Second, I think that there are more than twelve different types of people in the world. Additionally, they seem vague, and mine was always wrong, anyway. I’m not a good example of what a typical Scorpio should be. But a few years ago, I learned a little more about the Zodiac, and now the time has come to revisit the new concept I was introduced to…

Cusps.

I’m not really a Scorpio at all. I’m on the cusp between Libra and Scorpio, which is apparently a completely separate sign. We’re called Scorlibrans (or Librium Leepio), and our sign is known as The Cusp of Drama and Criticism. That title alone sounds pretty dead on like me, doesn’t it? We’re also dubbed “The Indecisive Assassin”. Yup, me to a tee.

Here are some quick descriptive words about people who fall on this cusp:
- Aesthetic
- Alluring
- Artistic
- Charismatic
- Compelling
- Critical (while maintaining a sense of personal infallibility)
- Culturally Aware
- Deep-Feeling
- Diplomatic (and they have skill for seeing all sides of any situation)
- Exhibitionistic
- Honest
- Imaginative
- Indecisive (“with the head guiding and the heart denying, or vice versa”)
- Insightful
- Manipulative
- Passionate
- Procrastinating (with a tendency “to delay things or mull them over for so long that it proves to be costly”)
- Sensuous
- Stubborn
- Talkative
- Theatrical

And a few things that people on this cusp are NOT:
- Confident
- Decisive
- Laid-back
- Secure

Likes:
- Abstract Reasoning
- Approval (they have a need to be well-liked)
- Arts (art, music, literature, theatre)
- Peace and harmony
- Preaching (and they are willing to speak on almost any subject)
- Truth
- Well-Developed Thoughts

Dislikes:
- Generalizations
- Lacking control
- People who equate sexuality with sensuality

Now, as I said, I’m hesitant to put any stock into these things… But nevertheless, I feel the need to share with you a couple more of the eerily spot-on descriptions of someone born within my little stretch of time (October 19-25).

“… tensions and disappointments of life can at times prove too much for them, such that they retreat into isolation.” (Someone obviously wrote this down after observing me for a month.)

“There may also be ailments of the back, kidneys, and stomach.” (In case you’re unaware, I have diagnosed medical problems with my back and stomach.)

Every piece of cusp-related information I’ve just shared with you is something that I believe applies to me. Crazy coincidence? Or destiny?

Take what you will from that. Moving on.

My birthday takes on a different significance as I age than I thought it would. I don’t feel old, but yet I feel that I am one step closer to death.

What I am about to admit is something I’ve only shared with a handful of people in my life, but in the spirit of birthday honesty, I’m going to share it with you.

When I was younger, I had some sort of prophetic recurring dream that I would die at the age of 27. I don’t generally believe in signs, but I’ve had dreams that paralleled reality before, so I can’t ignore this. I have a hard time imaging that I’ll live to see 30 (which might have something to do with why I’ve talked myself out of wanting children or marriage, but that’s a can of worms that I don’t intend to open right now).

Twenty-seven seems to be a famous age for deaths. Especially for musicians. Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison (The Doors), Kurt Cobain (Nirvana), Brian Jones (The Rolling Stones), Robert Johnson (blues musician), Gram Parsons (The Byrds), Al Wilson (Canned Heat) and Peter Ham (Badfinger) all died at 27. Nick Drake died at 26, and Tim Buckley at 28, so I guess they’re honorable mentions. If I were a famous musician, I’d say my fate was sealed.

As it is, I’m neither famous, nor a musician, so maybe I’m wrong.

I’m not really upset about the idea of dying at 27. Around eighth grade (10 years ago, when I had the dreams), I just sort of accepted it to be true. Actually, believing I’d die at 27 made me less worried about dying sooner. It’s a strange, backward sort of logic, but it helped me at the time.

From about the age of 7 to the age of 13 I was terrified of death. I was afraid to go to sleep at night because I was so convinced that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning (hmmm… I may have just unlocked the root of my insomnia… Thank you, alcohol. Perhaps I should drink while typing more often… I may have just found a way to get through NaNoWriMo).

It got pretty bad the summer after fourth grade, when my Omama (grandmother) died. Death became real in a way that it never had before. Tangible. Terrifying.

I had a major breakthrough at a Chenille Sisters concert (a group that my parents were groupies of… My parents are awesome) later that year. They sang a cover of “What a Wonderful World”, and I started crying. I realized that the world was a beautiful place, and that I was missing out on it if I was always living in fear. (Yes, this was a revelation I had at the age of 9. I swear. I was a strange child.) I’ve had a great affinity for that song ever since. (I actually had a similarly affecting experience in college involving the song “Here Comes the Sun”. I have deep love of that one as well.)

Anyway, I’m not as afraid of death now. If I live longer, that’s tremendously good. If I was right all along and I now have fewer than 5 years left, I’m okay with that. Sorry for being morbid, but I needed to get that off my chest.

Twenty-two was an eventful year. I adjusted to city life. I worked on a couple of shows. I took a couple of classes. I went through a couple of boyfriends. I got a job. I got a promotion. I moved into my very own apartment. It was a year of metamorphosis, to be sure. There were a lot of ups and downs, but I reached the end of it (gracefully, I hope) and I'm still standing.

Twenty-three isn’t very exciting (it's two years before being allowed to rent a car... and, um... in the title of a horror movie starring Jim Carrey), but I suppose that happens more as you age. At the end of the year, you’re another year older. That’s all you can say for your life after twenty-one. I guess what twenty-three really represents is another chance. A whole year's worth of time to do better than I did this past year.

I feel like this would be a good time for me to make resolutions of some sort. Why wait for the new year? Actually, this IS a new year… Unfortunately, I can’t think of anything to resolve to do at the moment. And the alcohol is beginning to cloud me a little (I think I’m on my fourth since beginning to type this entry… Hopefully this isn’t full of typos by the time I’m done).

I think it’s time for me to go to bed. After all, it’s 2:30am and I have to leave my apartment at 7:45am. And then I have a full day of work. And then a full night of partying.

May every birthday be a new beginning for you.

Much love,

~A~


P.S. Isla Fisher and Sascha Baron Cohen’s baby was born. Early reports said that it was a boy named either Satchel or Sadler James. Luckily, this is not the case. They had a baby girl, and have named her Olive. Not perfect, but the least of the evils.

P.P.S. “Here Comes the Sun” just started playing on my iTunes. Perfect. :)

The World Spins Madly On

Whenever I sit down to write for this thing, I feel like I’m typing the script to one of those vaguely insightful (and undeniably cheesy) voiceovers you hear at the ends of television episodes. I invoke Meredith Grey, J.D. Dorian, and Carrie Bradshaw, and they all spill out onto my keyboard in a gooey amalgam of thoughts that, I’m pretty sure, are supposed to have a point (although I can never discern exactly what that’s supposed to be). I don’t gather all the loose thoughts together and thread a ribbon around the one life lesson that you didn’t realize was connecting the seemingly disparate notes, but I feel as though there is some hidden bit of wisdom that people might be able to decipher amidst my incoherent babbling that might somehow better their situations. That’s how pretentious and self-important I feel right now. My inner-monologue is interesting enough that it should be documented, darn it.

Then I feel immediately guilty and self-absorbed. The world does not, in fact, revolve around me (thanks, Galileo). I should be writing about the starving children in Africa (or any continent, really), how to get conflict-free diamonds (my 20-year-old single brother has decided that whatever woman he proposes to will not be getting a traditional rock. I think the movie Blood Diamond really got to him), or the situation in Darfur (which I know shamefully little about… I couldn’t point out Darfur on a map… Then again, I also couldn’t point out Wyoming on a map. Luckily, I don’t believe that Wyoming exists. The four people who claim to be from there are just conspirators trying to take over part of South Dakota and secede under the guise that no one cares about them and their counterfeit state anyway. Honestly, would you miss it? I didn’t think so).

I need to focus on something outside myself. Something topical… Let’s see… I don’t believe Fidel Castro is dead any more than I believe Tupac is dead (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Witness Protection Program. How else would they keep finding “unreleased” material of his that happens to be relevant? I rest my case). I think the facts in the Jena 6 case are being twisted around to a ridiculous degree, and the situation is no longer recognizable as the one I began reading about weeks ago (before it was trendy to support them). I think that all young women should get the HPV vaccine, especially now that it has been shown to block 10 other strains of viruses that it was not initially marketed for (they should get it even if they’re not sexually active, because it’s always better to be prepared. Besides, you can’t put a price on cheating death).

And now for something I know a little more about…

I’m thrilled that Salma Hayek named her daughter “Valentina Paloma” instead of “Belladonna Robot-Guru” or some other such tasteless, ill-advised celeb-baby abomination. I’m ecstatic that Noel Gallagher was bluffing when he said his child might be named “Gilly, “Chutney”, or “Gizmo”, and actually went with “Donovan Rory” (which I don’t give a full thumbs-up to, but it’s definitely the least of those potential evils). I pray for the unborn child of Nicole Ritchie (please, Lord, don’t let her name it after snack food), and I look forward to the child of Isla Fisher (I have this feeling that she’ll go with something classy… Of course, she’s engaged to Sascha Baron Cohen, so I suppose I shouldn’t become too comfortable with that thought. She might very well have a son named “Junius Supercilious Thorax Fisher-Cohen” before the year is through).

I don’t understand recent naming trends. If you are naming your child after a medieval profession, a band, or something found on a spice rack, let me buy you a baby name book. There are plenty of unusual names out there that are actual established names (Evander & Beatrix, for example, neither of which has been among the top 1000 baby names used in the USA within the last century) and not something that you concocted by spelling something nice backwards. (Note: “Nevaeh” was among the top 100 names used for baby girls in the USA in 2006. And here I have been under the impression that spelling something in reverse made it Satanic.)

Naming your child after the place of his/her conception will only serve as a perpetual reminder to an adolescent mind that “mommy & daddy had sex” (and no one wants to think about that, especially during their formative years). Misspelling a child’s name will only lead to everyone else in the world needing to be corrected when they assume that the traditional spelling is the proper one, and they will therefore decide that you are a linguistically-challenged half-wit for being unable to recognize that the generally accepted spelling was the better choice (to quote myself, Immylea is not a name. Immylea is what you get when the Scrabble bag spills onto the floor. By the way, there are parents out there who think that the aforementioned stew of letters should be pronounced “Emily,” and it’s probably not a good sign if you figured that out on your own). There is no reason for an apostrophe, hyphen, ampersand, number, tilde, or Sanskrit character to appear in a name. Naming your child “Beyoncé”, “Kanye”, or “Aaliyah” will not make them talented. Using names like “Ferrari”, “Diamond”, or “Doctor” will not make your offspring wealthy enough to care for you when the child-support from your baby-daddy runs out.

And what is it with people naming their daughters male names? Michelle Branch named her daughter Owen. Brooke Shields named one of her daughter Rowan (the other is Greer Hammond, which I am as likely to associate with a little girl as I am to associate Spam with a black tie dinner). One of Charlie Sheen & Denise Richards’ progeny is a little girl named Sam (not Samantha… just Sam. Their younger daughter was given the hyper-feminine moniker Lola, leading me to believe that they saw the error of their ways and decided to improve the second time around). The number one fastest rising female name in the USA in 2005 was “Emerson” (which translates to “son of Emery”). The third most popular female name in the country for the last two years has been Madison (“son of Maud”). Names like Ryan, Kyle, and Elliot (blame Scrubs for that last one) are being used on girls at increasing rate. I’ve even spotted girls named Scott, Michael, and Harvey (Harvey-Anne, actually. It’s so much more “femynyn” that way). It’s just wrong.

I think the idea behind it is that they’re somehow fighting gender stereotypes, and that any name that a male can have, a female should be able to have as well. If anything, I think that perpetuates gender inequality, because unless they plan to name their sons Genevieve and Isabelle (or at least try to reclaim names like Ashley, Kelly, and Dana, which have already gone to the girls), what they’re really saying is that female names aren’t as good as male ones. Some people say that giving a child a gender-neutral name will somehow better prepare them for adulthood. I whole-heartedly disagree with that. Unless your child has some sort of hormonal disorder that gives them ambiguous secondary sex characteristics (just like the character “Pat” from Saturday Night Live), all you’ve prepared them for is a lifetime of explaining that “No, I’m a male/female, yes, that is my name, and no, it’s not a mistake.” It’s a horrible idea. Using a boy’s name on a girl doesn’t make it a girl’s name any more than putting a squid on your head makes it a hat.

If you have any friends who are pregnant or adopting and considering something revolting, worrisome, or even questionable for their child, by all means send them my way and give me a crack at talking them out of it.

I pay more attention than I’d like to admit to non-baby related celebrity gossip as well. I hate that I waste precious morsels of time reading it. Many days, I find I don’t even know who the celebrities are I’m reading about or why they’re famous (who the hell is Kim Kardashian?), but I read on. I continue to stock up on my pop culture knowledge because I’m convinced that it will, at some point, come in handy. Also, it’s nice to read about people who are even more hopelessly flawed than I deem myself to be. I may have self-esteem issues, but not like Britney Spears. I might have problems in my professional life, but not like Lindsay Lohan. There may be some bits of my past I’d like to erase, but at least there’s no incriminating footage of me in flagrante delicto.

What inspires people to tape themselves having sex? Is it just a high-powered form of the exhibitionistic streak that makes people go into intense public displays of affection (not the sort that made the half-joking phrase “get a room” popular, but more the type that make you seriously wonder how much longer they’ll remain vertical and/or clothed)? Do they really plan to watch it? Will they just watch it one obligatory time before leaving it to reside on the shelf, collecting dust (and being careful not to accidentally return it to the video store in the wrong case)? Do they really think no one will ever find it? They’re wrong. It WILL be found. Definitely. Probably by their eight-year-old son, who will then have to be in expensive psychotherapy sessions for the rest of his life because his first orientation to the BDSM community was witnessing Mommy and Daddy experimenting with whips and tethers (BDSM, for those of you who are too innocent to know, is an acronym that represents three terms for types of sexual behavior: B&D - Bondage & Discipline, D&S - Domination & Submission, S&M -Sadism & Masochism. You should be at least a small bit embarrassed that you learned that from me, due to the naïveté that I grazed over in my last entry).

Sometimes I wonder if I’m an exhibitionist or a voyeur. I don’t mean either of these terms in their sexual capacities, but rather as applied to daily life. I can’t decide whether I’d rather see or be seen. Both appeal to me for different reasons. When I’m having conversations in public places, I always wonder if other people are eavesdropping, trying to turn my life into their own personal version of “The Truman Show”. I want to be watched (I am, after all, a performer by trade). I want every set of eyes to follow me as I go past. I won’t go out of my way to attract attention, but I desire it. It’s like my heroin. My anti-drug, if you will.

There are other occasions in which I am a watcher. I sit quietly and observe the world. I become invisible, and contemplate whether I should use my power for good or evil.

In Rome, when you walk down the street, you make eye contact with people. Staring is completely socially acceptable. You could be waiting for a bus, completely ogling someone, and not feel that you have to hide it at all. It’s liberating. Every once in awhile, I attempt to pull off this feat in Chicago. I’ll catch a woman’s gaze while walking down the street and stay locked on her for a moment longer than I should. I’ll fix my eyes upon a man unapologetically from across an L platform. I gauge their reactions. It’s a bit of a social experiment, really. I want to see how much it takes to make someone begin to appear slightly uncomfortable. And then I wonder why.

If you are interested in performing a social experiment of your own, you have an excellent opportunity whenever you board an elevator. All you have to do is face a direction that isn’t toward the doors. It makes people uneasy for some reason. Why should everyone face each other’s backs, all in the name of conformity? I find it much more interesting to face the center. It’s better for people-watching.

The best time to be a voyeur is on public transportation. There is a beautiful cross-section of society there… Annoying groups of teenagers who see no problem with the obscene volumes to which they raise their voices while using phrases such as, “Girl, you don’t even KNOW,” in earnest. Business people who are so well-clad that you wonder why they chose to board the unreliable cesspool called “the L” instead of driving their Mercedes to work in the first place. Shabby looking folks that you’d never dare sit next to for fear of catching the bubonic plague (or possibly being pick-pocketed, propositioned, or drooled on). Young women striking poses while trying to appear casual, luring potential mates for the express purpose of being able to turn them down (I imagine they feed on doling out rejections as though it’s a sadistic, supernatural power-source that you might find in a Joss Whedon creation). Drunken middle-aged men, presumably on their way home from viewing sporting events on television at pubs across the street from the venues at which they’re actually being played, who have no qualms about adjusting their position to leer at a young lady in a low-cut top (a mistake I made last week).

I am suddenly reminded of an Eleanor Roosevelt quotation (forgive me if I paraphrase): Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people.

I believe I discuss all of the above. In fact, I believe I’ve done so in this blog entry (which is why I chose to quote Eleanor Roosevelt in the first place). I wonder what that says about me. Unless my brain grows and shrinks rapidly several times an hour, I haven’t a clue. And frankly, with all due respect to Mrs. Roosevelt, I think she was wrong.

May you take the time to discuss things outside of yourself, if only sporadically.

Much love,

~A~

(P.S. The title of this entry was stolen from the title of a song by The Weepies. You should check them out.)

Guilty Pleasures & Deadly Sins

I love bad movies. Some of my favorite movies are ones that I am completely willing to admit are terrible. I own Teen Witch. I own Win a Date with Tad Hamilton (although that one was a gift… but I’ve watched it more than once). I own To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (I haven’t watched it in the last two years since buying it at a Wal-Mart for $5. Mostly, I bought it because I thought it was funny that Wal-Mart was selling it). I own Grease 2 (which I think I actually prefer to Grease… I hope that’s not blasphemous to my musical theatre buddies who might be reading this). And I own and love the movie “America’s Sweethearts” (highly underrated. It’s actually very funny).

Here’s the thing… I don’t think of these movies as “guilty pleasures” at all. I don’t feel guilty about them. If I owned Showgirls, then I might feel guilty about it (I watch it whenever it’s on television), but that’s because of both horrid acting and also the fact that it’s basically soft-core porn. Really, I think I just don’t understand the concept of guilty pleasures. To quote Sheryl Crow (oh no… WHY am I quoting Sheryl Crow?), “if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.”

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine regarding his newfound love of the Disney Channel. He says that it’s filled with happy material, and that it has a positive impact on his life. I don’t watch the Disney channel (which is in some part due to the fact that I don’t presently own a television), but I respect that. It makes him happy. Who am I to judge?

I got into a fairly heated argument with someone last winter about my love of the television show Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. She said it was self-important, and just a vehicle for Aaron Sorkin (the show’s creator) to vent about his political agenda. Here’s what I don’t get: why on earth would you go off unprompted on a tirade against something that I clearly love? Isn’t that just a whole string of comments that could easily be left unsaid?

I also don’t feel guilty about my preferences in music, which have recently come under scrutiny by some of my friends. I like Corinne Bailey Rae, Mandy Moore, and the occasional piece of Fefe Dobson or Aqua. I listen to Basement Jaxx, Fastball, Fountains of Wayne, Motion City Soundtrack, Jewel, Liz Phair, Semisonic, Something Corporate, and many other artists that others might scoff at for a variety of reasons. At this very moment, I’m listening to the song “Hang on, Little Tomato” by Pink Martini, which I find to be particularly lovely. And I don’t think I should have to be ashamed of that. That music cheers me. And a cheerful me is something that you should be encouraging. I’m quite fun to be around when I’m cheerful… not so much when I’m defensive. I’m just saying…

Also, take note: if you EVER say a negative thing about Natalie Imbruglia in my presence, I will most likely be unable to continue speaking with you. I’ve already told the fellow in my life that if he ever commits such a heinous act, it would surely be just cause for a break-up. My music is something that I wear close to my heart, and when people diss it and dismiss it, they might as well be putting down something that I have created myself. It breaks me down from the inside. I am offended to a point that seems almost irrational. Almost.

Anyway. I see nothing wrong with liking movies of questionable caliber, frivolous music, self-important television, and the like. And I hate it when people feel the need to change my opinions on those things, or try to make me feel bad about liking them. So please, if you are ever considering such a thing, don’t. Even if you’re just teasing.

As it turns out, I don’t take teasing very well. I don’t understand it. I was raised in a house where making fun of other people got you in trouble. I survived a childhood of constant mocking and oceans of tears. I don’t think it’s funny when people tease me. It just seems hurtful.

I will never understand how some people think that teasing is a good way to flirt. If a guy starts off teasing me, I assume he’s a jack-hole, and I don’t feel the need to ever speak with him again. Not a good way to start things off. Before we started dating, my ex-boyfriend started making fun of Canada (knowing full well that I have a great love for our neighbors to the North… I started watching Degrassi” back in the 80s when it came on after Ramona, and I’ve loved Canada ever since). He thought it was a good way to rile me up. All it did was piss me off (my mother hates it when I use that phrase… she says it isn’t ladylike. But sometimes, it’s just the right way to explain my emotional state. So forgive me if I’ve somehow ruined your opinion of me by saying something crass). It made me want to keep my distance from him.

I actually got into a rather heated discussion with a coworker a couple of weeks ago when he started teasing me about being a Shakespeare geek. You just shouldn’t do that. Honestly. I will never understand the thought process behind it. I didn’t understand it in elementary school when a boy would yank on a girl’s pigtail because he liked her, and I don’t understand this verbal equivalent to it. It just seems counterintuitive to me.

Shakespeare, by the way, is most certainly not a guilty pleasure. His work is really rather brilliant, and not overrated. Shakespeare is, in fact, one of a handful of topics that I could speak on for hours, if allowed. Other subjects that fall under that elite heading include Harry Potter, mythology (especially Greek and Roman), musical theatre, and names (I actually started writing a book on names once, but everything I wrote was lost. Apparently, I have horrible luck when it comes to things I’ve written suddenly disappearing. Anyway, I was never able to talk myself into starting it all over again). None of these subjects are things I feel guilty about. It’s not like they’re vices.

Why aren’t vices considered to be guilty pleasures? If ever you should feel guilty about something, shouldn’t it be drinking, or smoking, or gambling, or drugs, or what have you? Those all seem like things one might feel guilty over. I have had a couple of friends with serious pornography addictions. If that doesn’t sound like what a “guilty pleasure” should be, then I don’t know what does. Surely, wanting to watch Die, Mommy, Die is a far less noteworthy event. It’s not like it’s a deadly sin.

Speaking of which, did you know that Dante invented the seven deadly sins? They’re not actually in the Bible or anything. I mean, they are technically all in the Bible as things you should not do, but not in list form. And yet, somehow they’ve been adopted into general Christian dogma. It’s actually rather strange that something like that occurred, but I blame people for being stupid and confusing fiction with religion (a la Scientology. Or Jedi-ism. I hope I didn’t offend any Jedi with that. I’m certain that I offended Scientologists). But it is a tremendous list. I can certainly ascertain a connection from each item on it to fire and brimstone.

Let’s see how guilty I am…
Envy: Of course. I’m envious of other people’s appearances a great deal. Occasionally, I envy their talents (especially if they can play an instrument with brilliance). I don’t care as much about their possessions, but those can make me jealous every now and again as well.
Greed: Not too bad. It is a part of my life, but obviously not a big one, as I can’t even come up with an example.
Gluttony: I took four pieces of pizza at a work function on Wednesday, even though I usually only eat two. Why? Because they were free. Subsequently, I became ill (after only eating two and a half pieces… I saved the untouched piece and ate it for breakfast the next morning). My eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach.
Lust : The temptation exists, but I don’t really act on this one… But that deserves a blog entry all to itself. I will not be writing that tonight.
Pride: Check. I have a blog, which I think is proof enough that I’m prideful. After all, I think my writing deserves to be read. And I take pictures of myself a lot.
Sloth: I’m one of the world’s best procrastinators (I say “best” because I’m successful at it… I get my stuff done, I just do it at the last minute). That comes from my lazy streak, and also the fact that I work better under pressure (the pressure of a deadline seems to work especially well).
Wrath: I have my moments. Who doesn’t? It’s hard to be a passionate person without having wrath. My words can get downright violent. And I stay bitter about certain things for years. The way I think on it, bitterness falls under wrath.

In general, though, I’m not a big “vice” person. I’ve never picked up a cigarette. I’ve never touched drugs. I didn’t start going out and drinking until after I was 21 (well, 22, actually). I like to think that the D.A.R.E. program worked on me (if D.A.R.E. needs a spokesperson, I’m there). When I asked a friend recently if I had any vices, he answered by suggesting “chocolate?” But really, I don’t even eat chocolate very often (except when it’s in ice cream… like chocolate chip cookie dough… mmmm). Um, does cuddling count as a vice? Because I’m all over that one. Otherwise, I’m hard-pressed to come up with something.

Maybe that’s pathetic a little bit. Maybe innocence is a form of emptiness. I worry about that sometimes. Am I not living my life to the fullest because there are so many activities that I refrain from? I try not to dwell on it, as it could get depressing. Luckily, I have The Monkees, The Beach Boys, and Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass to cheer me up. And I don’t feel one iota of guilt about that.

May your days be guilt-free and bright.

Much love,

~A~