In Case You Were Wondering

- I'm going to Europe on May 5th, and will be there until July 1st.
{NOTE: If you are in Europe during this time and would like to host me for a visit, please let me know (especially if you are in Italy, Ireland, or Spain, which are all places that I'd like to go but have no place to stay). If you want to see me (and not host me) and happen to be in/near the United Kingdom (I'll be predominantly in London), or in Greece, Austria, France, or The Netherlands (all of which are countries I plan to visit), please contact me.}

- I talked to the friend who was putting me in awkward sexual situations. He stopped.

- I have a schoolmate who terrifies me, and who has harassed me in the past. I attempted to talk to the administration at my program about setting up a more clear system for students to report harassment. It's not happening.

- But I did have a complete breakdown in front of one professor, who said I will never again have to work with that classmate in her class.

- I opened a show that I'm very proud of, and that I think I'm doing good work in. My entire class is in it, which is cool. It's a total downer of a play, but the audiences seem to like it. Half of the critics love it, and the other half warn the audience that it's polarizing. I play a nurse with a New York dialect, and a prison matron with a unibrow. I love playing the nurse, but when I talk to audience members, I get more compliments on the matron.

(My entire class and our director in the pale blue shirt, after the opening of our show. 03/03/10)

- I'm on "Spring Break", which means I have no classes, but I'm still performing in six shows a week and rehearsing for another show.

- The show I'm rehearsing for is a student-produced Shakespeare play: King John. I'm playing Eleanor and Salisbury. It's a cut of the play that's rather short (70 minutes, I think). I don't have a massive role, but I'm so geeked to be in it, I can't even tell you.

- I've become friends with the classmate I once called "Alpha". We're doing pretty well right now.

- My phone says I have 13 missed calls last night between 12:35am and 1:55am from a friend. The same friend who used to be suicidal. He called me yesterday in the middle of the day really upset. I tried to call him when I woke up, but he didn't answer. I'm terrified.

- I have a t-shirt I love with a crazy print of some old-timey greyscale women dressed in 1800s clothing painting neon graffiti on a brick wall by the Eiffel tower that says "Paris Loves Hip-Hop". It's fading. I bought three different colors of sparkly fabric glitter glue to resurrect it. It looks awesome, and I'm totally proud of it.

- People keep telling me I look like I've lost weight. My scale keeps telling me I haven't.

- Two of my classmates got engaged on Valentine's Day.

- Those same two classmates are going on a Master Cleanse detox in a couple of weeks, that involves drinking homemade lemonade made from lemon juice, maple syrup, cayenne pepper, and water. Just that. For ten days. I might do it with them. I might be insane.

- I missed church this week, and I'm really bummed about it.

- I was invited to audition for a pre-Broadway run of a new musical. I did pretty well. I don't know if I'll get in or not, but I know that I'm still in the running. And that's awesome. (Please say a prayer for me if you're the praying sort. And if you're not, please send good vibes and cross your fingers.)

- My theatre has a great season next year. It sounds like there are only 4 shows that I have any chance of being in. I've read two of them, and ordered a 3rd. (The 4th is the pre-Broadway run that I'm praying for.)

- I'm terrified that I'm not going to have good casting in next year's season at the theatre. It's happened to many people before me. And frankly, my casting this year isn't great. And that's discouraging.

- My brother just got back together with the girl he'd been dating for awhile, whom I really like. They broke up on Valentine's Day, and got back together exactly one month later. I'm thrilled.

- I'm really good at the General New York dialect. And I'm really good at the Standard British dialect. And I'm really proud of both of those facts. We're doing Irish next, and it's super hard for everyone in my class. I'm going to find a way to be really good at it, I've decided.

- I love Shakespeare slightly less than I used to, just because I'm so very sick of my the way we do the scenes in my acting class... Which is basically that we COMPLETELY RE-BLOCK THEM every time we do them.

- Does that mean that I have senioritis? Or, I guess, second-year-itis? (I have another year left of grad school, but you only have classes your first two years... the third is pretty much just acting in plays)

- I want this dress and this dress (I like them both in "Bluebird", although it does not appear to be at all the same color for the two). I have been stalking both dresses for a long time. But I can't spend that kind of money on a dress. And for some reason, Express hasn't sent me any coupons in the last 3 months, and there don't seem to be any valid coupon codes on Retail Me Not (believe me, I've been trying all of them). I have one coupon, but it's not usable on the internet, and neither dress is in my local Express. This upsets me. And I think about it far more than I should.

- I made February a No-Buy Month. Meaning that I didn't buy stuff. I still bought food and other amenities. But no clothes. Or make-up. Or random junk to fill my room with. It was really, really difficult for me. As it turns out, I'm a way more emotional shopper than I thought I was.

- I'm being harder on myself for Lent this year than I have been in the past. I fasted on Ash Wednesday, and am going meatless on Fridays. I gave up alcohol (which isn't THAT hard for me, but it does suck to not have it on my opening night OR closing night parties for this show, and to not be drinking at all during Spring Break). I have also given up cookies, cake, ice cream, candy, and most other sweets. (I decided that milkshakes are my exception, because I couldn't possibly go without Shamrock Shakes at McDonalds.) And I'm trying to add more positivity into my life, and share it with others. I'm doing pretty well, actually.

- I totally had Seasonal Affected Disorder strike again this year, which I thought would never happen once I moved to Florida. But we had terrible, grey, cloudy, miserable weather for a couple of months, and I realized it coincided with me feeling generally awful about myself and my life. There was a lot of unhappiness and random bouts of crying. But the Shamrock Shakes have helped me through all of that. I'm better now.

- I got into a minor car crash in a parking lot. Which means that I was backing up, and I hit a dairy truck. Yeah. Embarrassing. And my car doesn't look great.

- After over a year of daily posts of random internet whatnot, I've decided to stop holding myself to a daily schedule on Lemon Wacky Hello. But I have one heck of an archive now, if you need some entertainment.

- I miss blogging. But I just don't have the energy.


May you never feel like you have to give up things you love,

~A~

Leading with Cheer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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


May you lead some cheers of your own.

~A~


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

Chicago Blogger Meet-Up

I've been breaking my own rule and posting more than semi-weekly lately. Please forgive me.

I made some new friends last night. Lovely ones. I attended a meet-up of Chicago-based bloggers from 20-Something Bloggers.

They're neat people. You should check out their blogs.

- Big Time Fancy
- D-Blogged
- PB & Razz
- Places Never Planned
- SoMi
- To Kiss the Cook
- You are flawed if you are not free

It was a bit weird meeting people who already knew things about me (a few of them were familiar with my blog). And I've been attempting to read their blogs so that I'd be ready to meet them, although I just started and thus knew very little. It was interesting to attach faces, personalities, and psycho-physical rhythms to people who had previously only existed in my head by what was evoked through written word. A fascinating little social experience.

I uncomfortably shifted between acute social anxiety and story-mode all night. Sometimes I could talk, share, and laugh. I told stories. I discussed the positives and negatives of various blog platforms. I explained why I try to limit my posting to a couple of times a week (because I could write this much on a daily basis, but no one would read it). It was fun. And I felt like a part of the team.

Other times I had to tune everything out, close my eyes, stare into my lap, and learn how to breath again. I had the misfortune of sitting in the middle of the table... That awkward place where there's a conversation to your left, another to your right, and you're not sure how to be a part of either as you're listening to both. It's like there's too much input to properly sort out anything.

It's hard to explain social anxiety to people who have never experienced it. The best I can put it is that it's like claustrophobia. Like I'm going to drown in a sea of sights and sounds. Like I'm being suffocated by the breaths of others. Like the crowd is strangling me, wrapping around my body like a snake. I choke, my soul turns blue, and I worry I'm going to faint.

Luckily, no such thing happened. Once I had a couple of cherry cokes in my system, I started dancing. And that helped. I think they may have thought I was a lunatic (not that such a label is new to me), but I had to dance so that I could breath.

Sometimes I feel so alone in this city. It's nice to know that I can connect with people I don't know. It's good to know that we all have ways to relate to each other. That there are people out there who understand. At least a little.


Big Time Fancy, Free and Flawed (from "You are flawed if you are not free"), and D (from "D-Blogged").

PB & Razz, Nilsa (from "SoMi"), and To Kiss the Cook.

D and Places Not Planned.

Big Time Fancy, me, and Free and Flawed.

PB & Razz and To Kiss the Cook.

After the meet-up, I had a long conversation with Brian.

I don't want to talk about it. Yet.

Let's just say that it involved a lot of crying (me, not him), and I was up until close to 5:00am.

I don't cry very often. I don't know why Brian has a tendency to bring that out of me. Maybe he's the only person I care enough about to cry over.

Or maybe it's just February. And I'm dealing with S.A.D. or something like it. And maybe I just need to cry.


May you find lovely people and learn to connect.

~A~


P.S. The offers period for grad schools begins tomorrow. Please pray for me.

ETA: The bloggers I met with have also written about our meet-up.
- The Big Time Fancy version
- The D-Blogged version (and his pictures)
- The PB & Razz version
- The Places Never Planned version
- The SoMi version
- The To Kiss the Cook version
- The You are flawed if you are not free version: Part One; Part Two

So Close

(ETA: Recommended listening for this post: "Konstantine" by Something Corporate")


I almost got emotional on the L on my way home from work.

He called.

Ex-boyfriend #1 called.

On Valentine's Day, but not for the obvious reasons.

I haven't heard his voice since June 9th, 2007: the day I broke his heart. The day I set mine free.

Actually... I was the one who decided to break things off, but he broke my heart, too. By not being the person he had been. The person I thought he was. The person I wanted him to be.

I broke up with him over the phone. It may sound harsh, but it was a long distance relationship, and several of our problems stemmed from how infrequently we saw each other. We had been so close, but the distance had put too much strain on things. And I was ready to get out of that relationship. In many ways, I think it was holding me back and preventing me from enjoying things in life.

He was understandably very upset. He told me not to contact him. He said he'd contact me when he was ready.

At first, it was hard not to call him. He was, after all, my best friend.

Around September, I started freaking out because I hadn't heard from him. I actually wrote to a good friend of his to ask her how he was doing. She verified that he was fine, and assured me that he would call me eventually.

Since then, we've had a few mild touches of contact. A couple of text messages to send holiday wishes. A song dedication on Facebook. A birthday present. But that's it.

By the end of November, I was just angry. And I hated that people kept telling me to give him time. I hated that they acted like he was some sort of victim. The moment that hurt the most came from a girl I barely know. She knew my ex, and when I told the story about how he had sent me a CD for my birthday with a card that implied he wasn't ready to talk with me, she said, "Gosh, he's such a nice guy." And she did it with a facial expression that I read as, "How could you do that to him?"

I looked her in the eye and said, "Believe me, if there is ANYONE who knows how great he is, it's me. But we just weren't meant to be."

For some reason, no one understood how much he'd hurt my by cutting me out of his life.

I may have dumped him, but he disowned me.

He screwed up my life, too.

In the three months after I broke up with him, I gained 20 pounds. I dated his opposite. I spent a great deal of time throwing emotions in the general direction of his hometown. Grief. Pity. Empathy. Anger. All in silence, because he had decided to cut me off.

And finally, in December, I decided I just didn't care anymore.

I thought I was over him about a week after I broke up with him. But that wasn't true. I knew I didn't want to be dating him anymore. I knew I had made the right decision. But I was so angry. And the opposite of love isn't hate; it's indifference. I suppose I truly got over him then. In December. Six months after we had broken up.

I've heard that it takes half the length of a relationship to get over someone. I was faster than that. We dated for two years, and it took me six months.

And then something happened.

Something that terrified me.

Something that made it clear that I had to talk to him again.

You see, my ex is currently getting his Master's degree at Northern Illinois University right now. And his mother works there as well.

And on Thursday, Valentine's Day, there was a shooting there.

I read about it while I was at work. But what could I do?

My mother called me.

"Call him."

"No. I can't call him."

"Call him!"

"Mom, I'm not calling him. He doesn't want me to call him."

I sent him a text message asking if he was alright, not knowing whether that over-stepped any boundaries.

And then he called me.

"Hi, Sweetie," he said. Out of habit, I suppose. It shocked me.

He and his mother were both on campus at the time of the shootings, but they're both fine.

I told him I was glad that he was alright, and that I had to get off the phone to catch the L.

"That's fine."

"It's really good to hear your voice."

"Yeah. You too. I'll call you soon."

"I hope you do."

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

I don't really know if I want him to call. I don't know what I'd say to him. I feel like I'd have to censor out a lot. While we were dating, he always had a hard time hearing about other males in my life. Stories involving other guys hitting on me. Hanging out with other guys when he wasn't around. Or hearing about other guys in general. On occasion, I thought his jealousy was his way of joking, but I think it ran deeper than that. I think that on some level, he was terrified that he was going to lose me to another guy.

Part of the reason I broke up with him was that I was sick of censoring myself. He asked me not to tell him any stories about going to bars with guys in the cast of the play I was in. I wanted to tell my best friend, my boyfriend didn't want to know, and I had the unfortunate circumstance of having the same person playing both roles in my life.

I don't want to hurt him any more than I already have. So I can't tell him about ex-boyfriend #2 (whom I started dating less than two weeks after breaking up with him). And I can't tell him about Brian. And, well, those have been two pretty significant things that have happened to me in the time since we broke up. Especially the Brian part.

But it's not just relationships. I'd have to leave out Ian. And Ricky. And John. And half of my coworkers. And every other male presence in my life. And if I do that, well, then, I sound like a hermit with no friends, a.k.a. a person who's obviously hiding something.

I can't help it. I always have more male friends than female ones. It's just the way I operate. I remember the night before I left to move into college for my freshman year, I decided to have a bunch of friends over to my house. I called them all to invite them. Phil, Sean, Jeffrey, Nyal, Jim, Mike, Paul, Steve... and Whitney. I remember thinking, "Dear God, what have I done?!" I grew up with brothers. I'm not as good at being friends with girls as I am with guys (although I suppose it's worth pointing out that only a couple of the guys from the aforementioned list are straight... but still).

In college, I found the men. Luckily, there were a few handy co-ed colleges very close by, and so it wasn't difficult. And I can easily say that my two best friends in college were named Mike and Greg. They were the kinds of guys I needed to save my sanity. Greg once skipped going to a Blessid Union of Souls concert so that he could help me study for a test. Mike once took me out dancing the night before I had two papers due, because he could sense how stressed out I was. Greg took me to play mini-golf. Mike to me to an OK Go concert (before they were viral break-out stars). In retrospect, it seems we had all the perks of dating without actually having to make a commitment. And it worked out very nicely. For awhile, at least.

My ex quickly bonded with Mike, sensing that there was no threat there. Although I had a crush on Mike for about 5 seconds, it had quickly been crushed the night I found myself holding his forehead as he vomited in a drunken stupor, weeping about another girl. I used to refer to Mike as the older brother I never had. We fight, both in argument and wrestling. We make fun of each other. And the thought of us ever being anything other than just friends... oh yuck. Feels like incest. In summation, Mike is the definition of "As Good As Gay".

But my ex never bonded with Greg. Probably at least in part because he knew that I had been interested in Greg at one point in time (I used to write poetry about him in my diary-x back in the day. I was pretty crushed on him).

I began dating my ex while Greg was studying abroad (which is the reason I was able to get over Greg in the first place). When he came back from being abroad, it was as if neither of them knew what to do with each other. Greg had been my closest friend and the #1 male in my life. I suspect that, on some level, he and my ex both felt threatened by the presence of the other. As a result, Greg and I grew more distant. It's one of the biggest regrets I have from that time of my life.

I don't think I've ever had as close a friend as Greg, and I'm not sure I ever will again. I could listen to a song and know whether Greg would like it or not. He could gauge my reactions to movies we watched based on how my body moved as I stared at the screen. Not only could we finish each other's sentences, we could finish each other's THOUGHTS. There were literally times when we would look at each other and just start laughing, not even needing to verbalize the private joke that we knew had been triggered simultaneously in both our minds. The joke materialized without ever coming out of our mouths, and everyone else in the room just stared at us in confusion. And while Greg and I will always be able to call each other and pick up close to where we left off, I doubt we'll ever get back to the place we were.

I had very physical friendships with both Mike and Greg (not in a "friends with benefits" kind of way... I never kissed either of them). I spent several nights sleeping next to each of them. I cuddled with them while watching movies. I climbed on them. I sat on their laps. I danced with them at parties, in bars, and at the swing dancing classes I dragged them to. We had tickle fights, long hugs, back rubs, and piggyback rides. I guess that's where my life took a turn for physical dependency. I think they needed it as much as I did. Well, almost as much. That physical closeness helped me from going crazy more than once.

Now, I have a desire to make all my friendships sort of like that, but it's tricky. With Mike and Greg, there was sort of an unspoken agreement that nothing else was going to happen. Greg had gone head-over-heels for a girl back home many years before (which originally put him on the AGAG list... until he flipped the switch... long story). And Mike... well, Mike and I weren't attracted to each other. I love the guy, but it was clear that we were meant to be friends.

Starting new physically close relationships is more of a challenge. I think I've recently managed it with a couple of friends, but it's still very much in the "this could end up going horribly wrong" phase. People misunderstand my intentions. They think I'm flirting. They think it means that I desperately want them, and that I'm throwing myself in their general direction. Or, if nothing else, they think it means they have a chance with me. And then the switch has been flipped in their minds, even though it's still firmly in place in mine.

In fact, that's what my ex thought before we were dating, when I climbed onto his lap and promptly fell asleep. But that wasn't the case at all. In fact, I was declaring him "just a friend" with that action; I was treating him exactly the way I would've treated Mike. If I were at all interested in him (or if I had suspected that he might have been interested in me), I never would've done it. I would've analyzed every action with a little too much preparation. I would've kept my distance.

Sorry. I don't know how I got sidetracked there... Ah well.

The point is, there are a lot of things my ex wouldn't want to know about. In fact, that was one of the things that led to our break up. There were too many things happening to me that he didn't want to know about because he couldn't physically be there to witness them.

It was weird hearing his voice again. And him sounding exactly the same. And it feeling like the conversation had very little weight to it, despite both the subject matter and the given circumstances.

But none of that is the reason I got strung up on the L. No, that I blame on some unfortunate timing from my iPod. Some of the songs weren't even sad... but their lyrical content got to me.

(I've added all the following songs to my ProjectPlaylist above so that you can listen to them if you'd like.)

"You're the Only One" by Maria Mena
A couple of lines got to me. Like, "You're the only one who knows how to handle me," because I felt like that around him for a long time. Another was, "You're the only one who holds my hair back when I'm drunk and get sick." Suddenly I was transported back to the night of my 21st birthday.

"The Rain Song" by The Bangles
In which a woman says she's over a guy and claims she rarely thinks of him, but she remembers every time it rains.

"I Don't Need You" by The Pierces
"Never could look back/Never would look back/Because/I don't need you/And you don't need me"

"Konstantine" by Something Corporate
If you don't already know this song, YOU MUST LISTEN TO IT. Okay, I can't force you, but you really should. It's over 9.5 minutes long, but it's one of the most beautiful, haunting songs I know. And I love it. And I could cry to it without any other stimulation. The line that always gets me is "They'll never hurt you like I do."

Seriously, just bad timing on all of them.

I probably wouldn't have gotten that close to showing emotion, except that it's February, and my S.A.D. brings every emotion a lot closer to the surface. It's like being bipolar for a month every year.

I feel like I'm so close to being able to talk to him again. Something that I wanted so badly and for so long. And I'm not even sure how I feel about that anymore.


May you find the closeness you crave.
And may you get as close as you need.

~A~


P.S. Monday is the first day that graduate schools are allowed to start making offers. After that, there is a three week "offers period". Please say prayers for me. There are three schools that I'm really strongly considering, and I would be blessed to get an offer from any. But I'd love to have options. Pray for three offers. And also pray that if that happens, I become miraculously decisive. ;)

Singles Awareness Day

Hello ladies and gentlemen.

Happy Singles Awareness Day!

I know most of you think that February 14th is Valentine's Day, but I far prefer this unofficial substitute holiday.

Someone out there will probably point out that the acronym is SAD, and that this is depressing. Interesting, isn't it, that February 14 lies dead smack in the center of the 28-day (or, in this case, 29-day) month that I generally refer to as the month I get SAD (Seasonal Affected Disorder)...

But to the people who would bring up the aforementioned acronym as a way to discredit the holiday, I say BAH! After all, the Valentine's Day shares an acronym with Venereal Disease. Being in a relationship might get you Valentine's Day, but it could also get you a Venereal Disease, and you'll be Single and celebrating SAD soon enough.

And I'm sure someone will comment that this is a fake holiday, and therefore not worth celebrating. But what, I ask you, is Valentine's Day? It's a holiday named for two early Christian martyrs (both named Valentine... and I think at least one of them is a Saint in the Catholic Church), but the closest thing to a religious symbol that anyone associates with it is a Roman mythological figure (Cupid). If ever Hallmark were behind a holiday, this is certainly the one. So I see nothing wrong with celebrating an alternative made-up holiday.

I'm actually relieved (and, dare I say it, excited) to be single this Valentine's Day. The last two years, I was in a relationship over this love-centric holiday. And I hated it. I much preferred the Valentine's Days where I sat around with my single friends to the ones where I was awkwardly trying to figure out how to handle relationship-y things.

I think part of the problem is that I'm not a hopeless romantic. Or even a hopeful one. Yes, I'll watch (and enjoy) the occasional romantic comedy (er... "chick flick"). Yes, I loved the Bridget Jones books. Yes, I own Win a Date with Tad Hamilton! (which, actually, I think I may have gotten for Valentine's Day from my ex... can't remember for which occasion he gave it to me). But those aren't the sort of things that I want to happen to me in real life.

Someone recently asked me if I had a problem with expressing affection... something like that. Maybe I do. I don't know. I just don't particularly care for being bathed in it. Feels very much like drowning. Maybe I have trouble reciprocating as a result. I get too uncomfortable... This particular problem requires further analyzation, but I don't care to delve into it at the moment.

Instead, I'll talk about reasons I don't like being coupled off on this most couple-y of days.

For one thing, as I've mentioned before, I hate surprises. Now, don't misunderstand me. When I say I don't like surprises, that doesn't mean I'm against spontaneity. It's a distinction that some people have difficulty grappling with. I don't like being surprised. I'm all for making impromptu decisions.

For another thing, I hate "couple-y" things. I hate having a song or movie that suddenly becomes "ours" (my ex, clearly not understanding this concept declared that my favorite movie, Animal House, was "our" movie, since we both enjoyed it. No, it is MY movie. I loved it long before he came along. And frankly, I don't remember ever watching it together. Clearly, it was not in any way a part of our relationship. He also once said "our song" was "Elephant Love Medley" from Moulin Rouge, a song that reminds me of time spent with my friend Phil long before it reminds me of my ex).

For another thing, I can't be won over the way other girls can be. And I hate having to pretend that I like that sort of thing just because a guy went to some trouble over it, completely misunderstanding what it is that I want out of him.

Whenever someone performs an incredibly romantic gesture for me (or for a girl like me), my mother refers to it as "a waste of a romantic guy". Most girls would salivate over that sort of thing. But I'm not most girls.

My dad says that he thinks I sometimes take the male role in relationships. I wouldn't say that. I'm just not... I don't know. Standard? I don't need to play hard to get. I genuinely AM hard to get.

I dislike getting presents from guys. In part because, in my experience, they miss the mark (like the time my ex bought me a diamond necklace after a year and a half of dating... It made me question whether he knew me at all. I far preferred Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!, especially since we had a running private joke about my love for that film). And you have to love them for trying (incredibly endearing when they do), but I'd rather just not get gifts at all.

The best gifts are experiences. Not physical presents. Memories are better. But try explaining that to a guy. And that, coupled with the "spontaneous is good; surprising is not" concept... I guess I'm just not easy to please.

But this year, I don't have to worry about any of that. This year I stand single and proud. This year I'm free. This year, I don't plan to do anything differently on Valentine's Day than I do any other day of the year. And I love that.

(Really, though, that's the way it should be. Even for people in relationships. If you love each other, why wait until Valentine's Day to show it? Find ways to express the way you feel every day. Every single day. If you're crazy about each other, why wouldn't you?)

I'm single in every possible sense... But every now and then I contemplate adjusting my facebook profile to read "It's Complicated". Because in my life, it always is. And on the male front... yeah, I think that's probably the best way to describe it. It certainly isn't simple. And while I may be technically single, I don't think I'm really datable at the moment, for a variety of reasons. So my facebook profile currently doesn't have a Relationship Status at all. It's blank. Hopefully, that's the least misleading of my options.

You know, some of the greatest gifts I've gotten recently have been videos that people sent me of themselves through facebook (it really is a marvelous invention, that site). Like the friend who used a Kermit the Frog puppet to serenade me with a Josh Groban song. Or the friend who performed a video strip tease to the song "In These Shoes?" (formerly on my ProjectPlaylist). You understand why I felt the need to propose to both of them... They gave me amazing gifts; they gave me stories. They gave me joy.


May you have a love-filled VD/SAD, whether you're in love with someone else or practicing loving yourself.

~A~


P.S. I debated putting on this last image, as I'm currently a vegetarian, and I know that I have a handful of vegetarian and vegan readers... But I decided I had to. It makes me laugh. Try not to take it too seriously.

Something Better

Every few hours I realize it again.

I really think I'm going to grad school in the fall.

My life is going to be completely uprooted and changed. I'll have to quit my job. I'll have to leave my little hole-in-the-wall apartment. I'll be moving to a state that I'm completely unfamiliar with. I'll probably be living a plane ride away from everyone I love. My life will be consumed by theatre, as I've always hoped it would be. I'll have to work harder than I ever have before. But I know that my passion, dedication, and talent will carry me through. I know that I can do this. I have to do this. I want something better for myself than I have right now.

It's terrifying though. The idea of leaving everything.

Not that I live some sort of ready-made life. But I've never been truly, truly alone before. When I studied abroad, I knew people that were going with me. When I moved out to Chicago, I moved in with a guy I barely knew and another guy I'd never met. But even then, I sort of knew what Chicago was about, and I knew one of my roommates... And I'd known plenty of people who had lived in Chicago already.

But now... Three of the five schools I was interviewed by are intriguing to me. And they're all in places I know nothing about. Places that are no where near anything or anyone I know. And they seem to like me as well.

I really think I'm going to get an offer this time, and not just be left hanging like I was last time. This just feels right.

The waiting is the hardest part. I'm just waiting for an offer (or four) to come in. I want to hop on a plane and visit the schools. But I can't use any more vacation time from work until things start to look serious from these schools... Because if I don't get an offer (God forbid), I have to make my vacation time last until the end of the year. If I do, it only has to last until about July...

It's good that I didn't go to grad school two years ago. I wasn't ready. I had a lot to learn before going. But I'm ready now. And I can't stay here much longer.

Brian said something to me that I have to agree with: there's nothing else I can gain by staying where I am. I've dealt with rejections here. I've discovered how much I truly love Shakespeare. I've learned how to make my own money, pay my own bills, figure out my insurance, plan my 401k, go to the doctor by myself... I've learned how to pretend to be a grown-up. I've learned that my life is not nearly as fulfilling or joyous when I'm not in the theatre. I've learned that what flows through my veins is a solution of passion, creativity, and blood.

I can't get what I need here. I need to get out. Life is... Stagnant. Static. Still. I'm not growing through being here anymore. I've reached a plateau. I need to find the next incline.

I can't sit here waiting for something to happen to me. I have to go find it. I have to get out.

Maybe I'm just saying that because the wind chill put this city into the negative 30s today. Maybe it's because I'm in my apartment with layers of clothing on and freezing because no water seems to be flowing through my radiator. Maybe it's my S.A.D. busting in. But I'm nearing my Chicago expiration date. It's dreary. And cold. And miserable. And so very, very lonely.

Ian came out to visit me this weekend. He thought I was lonely. And depressed. And angry. He wanted to help me talk through some of the things I'm dealing with right now in person as opposed to over the phone. He thought he could help me. And he did. It was a short weekend, made shorter by hassles involving retrieving his car after it was towed. He made me watch Lucky Number Slevin. I made him watch Arrested Development. Good times.

We went to a "games night" party that a friend of mine threw on Saturday night. We played Apples-to-Apples until nearly 4:00am. And then waited in the way-below-freezing cold for an L train that took far too long to arrive. I don't remember the last time I was that cold for that long. I thought we were all going to die before it showed up. And then when Ian and I got to my apartment, it wasn't much warmer. I was shivering for another hour before I could get to sleep, even under a pile of blankets with two pairs of pajamas and a fleece on.

I was glad Ian came. I think he was right. I think I was lonely. I needed there to be someone else here. Someone just to sit with and watch television with. Someone to complain about the weather with. Someone to shiver with. Someone to discuss politics with. Someone to prevent me from sitting in my apartment silently freezing for the majority of my weekend. Someone to help me begin to sort out the problems without solutions. I think he may have saved my sanity. For a little while, at least.

My penless pal Ricky has been incredibly helpful in helping to keep me sane as well. Through our facebook video exchanges, I feel like I'm having face-to-face conversations with someone... even if the reactions are a bit delayed. And he came over last Monday pre-auditions and let me express myself and chill out for a while. It was nice to have him around.

I am lonely.

I'm in this city, surrounded by buildings and people and events and ideas... And I feel so alone. And stuck.

I don't get nearly enough hugs in my life. Or physical closeness in general. And it's not even about wanting to make out with someone or anything like that. It's about almost falling asleep on someone's shoulder between L stops. Or having someone close enough to stroke your hair in silence. Or being able to huddle for warmth in the dead of winter. I want more cuddling in my life. Romantic, platonic, whatever.

Someone recently told me I should buy those sun lamps they sell for people with Seasonal Affected Disorder.

What do they sell for people who suffer for physical attention deprivation?

I need that.

I need something new. Something different. Something better.


May you find something better for yourself.

~A~


P.S. Not really related to this post at all, but there's a great Natalie Imbruglia song called "Something Better" that I like. I'm not sure that it's right for this blog or for my life at the moment, but I've temporarily put it on my ProjectPlaylist. It's about someone staying in a fun-but-imperfect relationship until something better comes along.

Nobody Knows Me at All

I know this is technically late, but you got two last weekend, so I think we're even.

Happy February.

My S.A.D. (Seasonal Affected Disorder) started a little early. I almost started crying at work on Wednesday. And I snapped at two coworkers on Thursday morning when they were making fun of me. But I'm sick of being the butt of their jokes, even though I know they don't mean anything by them. I hate being teased.

I don't know how I'm going to make it through this month. I hate February.

Last night, I went to yet another coaching session with Susan and Jeffrey (the 4th time I've worked with them in 7 days, by the way). Jeffrey recently told me thinks that I have what it takes to get into Julliard (which is where he went). He says I have a "great instrument", that I'm "very talented" and seem "driven and passionate" (that last part was after giving him my "theatre can change the world" speech in the middle of a bar). I looked into it. Their auditions are this coming week, but you had to have sent your application in back in November. Jeffrey said to call them today to see if they'll let me audition anyway. So I might.

I worked on Juliet's vial speech last night. And I had a complete emotional breakdown. It felt great to be that vulnerable. And then I had several glasses of wine (which is something that I never, ever do. I don't think I've ever had more than a half a glass in my life before last night. I think I finished off more than half a bottle by myself. And for someone who doesn't drink... Well, let's just say I may have made some dumber decisions if I hadn't gone straight home after class. And as it was, I made three facebook videos for people.)

But that sort of vulnerability is something I don't feel a lot in life. Really, I feel it most in my acting and in my writing.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone really knows me. Maybe I head people off at the pass too often. And there are so many things that run through my head that I've never verbalized.

I talked out the early stages of this entry with a new friend of mine (from Shakespeare classes... what else?). She said it might be a good idea to leave some things out. I guess it's because of the adage, "never in writing." But I don't know. Stupid as this may be, and as much as I may regret it, it feels right in the moment. And if there's anything that acting teaches you, it's living in the moment.

And I'm in a truth-serumed sort of mood, so here goes. Here are a bunch of things that you probably don't know about me...


- I assume that I'm smarter than at least 85% of the people I meet. Maybe 90%.

- Whenever I look at my results on the application "Compare People" on Facebook, I ignore all the really positive responses I've gotten (100% wins for Most Naturally Talented, ranked #1 Most Creative... etc.) and instead look at the negatives (why does no one think I'm sexy? And they don't think I'm smart? Or that I have a good body?). And I develop complexes as a result.

- As often as I talk about the possibility of never settling down and having a family, there is a part of me that wants to follow exactly in my mother's footsteps. Because my mom is awesome, and being just like her would not be a bad fate. And since three of my coworkers have been pregnant simultaneously, I think I've got a light case of what Megan would call "baby fever". But it's very, very, very mild. Mostly, I'm still terrified by the idea of actually having to raise children.

- No matter how good I am at something, I never think I'm good enough.

- I honestly believe that I'm fascinating.

- I have a hard time imagining anyone ever loving me enough to want to marry me.

- Even though it's commercial and cheesy, every time I hear the song "To the Moon and Back" by Savage Garden, I come close to tears. Same for my favorite song, "I Want to Save You" by Something Corporate (what does it say about me that my favorite song makes me want to cry?)

- If I don't think I can do a good job at something, then I probably won't do it at all.

- I dance down the sidewalk on my way home from work every day when I think no one's watching. And sometimes when people are watching. And I mouth the lyrics to whatever is playing on my iPod. Last week, a homeless man came up to me while I was dancing on the corner waiting for a car to pass and started dancing with me.

- Sometimes, I think I'm the coolest person on the planet (and that I have more fun than anyone else), but that no one knows it but me. (Case in point: I dance while I'm walking home. What's more awesome than that?)

- As soon as I find out that someone is an actor, I make a snap-judgement attempting to gauge their abilities. And I've been proven wrong many, many times.

- Other than judging abilities, my first impressions of people are usually pretty good. But I rarely trust my gut instincts, as I think it's unfair to do so. And then it takes me long periods of time to rediscover what I knew at the very beginning.

- Whenever I'm really stressed out, I consider cutting off all of my hair. Sort of like Deb in Empire Records, but not quite that drastic. About a week ago, I actually picked up a pair of scissors, held it up to my ponytail, and fully intended to cut it all off. But I chickened out when I remembered grad school auditions and the fact that my head shots show me with long hair.

- Sometimes I feel as though I play a character in my life more than I play myself.

- When I can't sleep, I put a pillow at my back and try to imagine that it's a person. And that I'm not alone. Some nights, that's the only way I get any rest at all. Other nights, I fall asleep hugging a pillow. Clearly, I hate sleeping alone. And I don't mean that in a sexual way in the least. I just really like the idea of another person in the bed. But, as I talk (and apparently sing) in my sleep, and I have a twin-sized bed, and I'm a horrible cover hog, no one ever shares a bed with me. So it's all just in my imagination. *sigh*

-I think that my tastes in music/movies/television/books/etc. are far superior to everyone else's.

- I honestly believe that I am immune to the flu.

- When someone hurts me, I'm bitter about it for a very long time. I thought I was going to see a person earlier this week who hurt me quite badly a couple of years ago and is apparently unaware of that fact. And I was gritting my teeth just thinking about it.

- I love walking around in my underwear and a t-shirt. Even now that it's winter and my apartment is often cold. But I never walk around naked. I just don't.

- Every time I step on my new scale, I write down the date, the time, and my weight. For no good reason.

- I hide cash around my apartment. Just in case.

- I have an intense fear of being raped.

- I think I'm a great story-teller. And no one can tell me otherwise.

- Running seems like a punishment to me. Therefore, I generally only run when chased. Or if I'm really late for something.

- The thing that hurts me most is when people say, "oh, well you don't count." Usually this happens when I am an exception to a rule they're trying to prove, and they're saying that I don't count because of how quirky and generally against the norm I am. As though I'm considered an out-lier because I'm close to the edge of the bell curve. It makes me feel like a freak every time. And I hate that.

- I once tried to convince my mother that I was a lesbian so that she'd stop trying to imagine (or create, or force) relationships between me and every male I mentioned from school. It didn't work out well.

- I sent in like four postcards to PostSecret. None of them ever showed up on the website. I was fully disappointed. My secrets were way better than some of the stuff I've seen on there.

- Whenever I don't fully know the lyrics to a song I'm singing, I use those moments to take a sip of my drink. Or I'll turn away from people and just sort of mumble through those parts. And act as though I know the lyrics when I clearly don't. I don't think I'm fooling anyone.

- Every time I make a bet, I lose. Seriously, every time.

- I sucked my thumb when I was a kid. Every once in awhile I wonder if I'll gain the same sense of comfort from sucking it again. So I try. But it never quite works.

- The first thing I notice about guys physically is generally their teeth. A good smile can really win me over. Or biceps. I have a weakness for good arms. Like Matt Damon in The Bourne Identity. *drool*

- I rarely go without a bra. And I NEVER go commando. It's just uncomfortable.

- When people go by their full names, I have a strange need to nickname them. And when they go by nicknames, I desire to call them by their full names.

- The concept of sex is stressful to me. Seriously, just thinking about it freaks me out.

- There is a part of me that assumes I'll be famous someday for something. I think about how I'll deal with all the media attention, and the autograph signing, and being swamped with fan mail and friend requests from strangers on facebook.

- I have a friend who ruins everything she tries to introduce me to. She's not a great story teller. She explains things badly. She spoils endings of things (or important aspects of them) when trying to convince you that they're worth watching/reading. And I always end up disliking the things she talks about just from their descriptions (or songs she thinks I'd like based on her a cappella renditions of them). But then, if I actually experience those things while separated from her, it turns out that they were right up my alley. So we actually have similar tastes. And she just really sucks at the way she recommends stuff. But I would never tell her that.


So that's all for now.

May you find a way to feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable.
May you discover something that you want to do for the rest of your life.
May you learn to trust that people won't use information to hurt you.
May you make it through February (and help me make it through as well).

~A~

P.S. You should listen to "The Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson on my ProjectPlaylist. Because it's full of lovely thoughts. And I can't listen to it just once. It's currently an 8-times-in-a-row song for me.

ETA: Here's a lovely quotation I picked up in Shakespeare class:

"Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction."
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More Issues Than Newsweek

WARNING: This post is Nyquil-ed out, and probably completely irrational. Why? Because I'm completely illogical and paranoid. And hopped up on medicine isn't helping.

You might be thinking to yourself right now, "why is she writing another post? She just did one on Saturday. And you'd be right. This doesn't fit my normal schedule. But I can't sleep. And I can't turn off my brain. And my last post was short (well, for me... it was only about 2 pages in Word). And this is my blog, and I'll post whenever I darn well feel like it.

When I got home from my coaching session on Friday night, I was ecstatic. I called my parents first, but only because they're in another time zone. And then I called Brian. Because I needed to call him. I needed him to be as elated as I was.

God, I'm needy.

Brian's right. I have trust issues. And I have commitment issues. And I have abandonment issues.

Sometimes I feel like a lost little girl.

I'm just so terrified of being forgotten. Or unwanted. Or alone.

I think I latch on to people too often. I use them like security blankets. I wrap myself up in them as much as I can in order to protect myself from anything else. And when the blanket begins to fall to the floor in the middle of the night, I wake up shivering and try to grasp it before it falls out of reach.

Brian's right. I'm terrified that he's going to stop caring about me. It scares me more than anything else. It doesn't help that he's so far away. And that I can't read the thoughts on his face during our silences on the phone. And that sometimes he's too busy to talk to me at all.

When did I start needing him so badly?

He somehow inherited a role in my life that has been passed on from person to person for years. The person whom I need. Is it a best friend? That's what I always called it. Either that, or an emotional affair... Maybe it's something else. Maybe you're not supposed to need someone as much as I need people. But that's why the "desperately needed" role exists in my life: because I can't properly exist without it. It was Katy, and Amy, and Isyemille, and Megan, and Phil, and Annie, and Marisa, and Mary, and Greg, and Mike, and Liesl, and Anna, and Jake, and Dave... And now it's Brian. It's the person that I need the most in the world. And it's the person I'm most afraid of losing. It's the person that I'm worried is going to stop liking me back.

I ask myself how I got so jaded. In many respects, my life has been simple. I have a loving family and really haven't had a lot of struggles. But somewhere along the line, I became screwed up when it came to inter-personal relationships. And now it's easier for me to communicate with people through the internet than in real life. Gosh, that's pathetic.

I think I can trace a lot of it back pretty far, actually. One of my childhood best friends didn't invite me to her birthday party one year. I convinced myself that she hadn't had one. Another good friend decided she wanted to hang out with the popular kids (a group that I was decidedly not a part of), and made fun of me in front of them using information I had trusted her with. She traded me for them, and threw me to the wolves in the process. With a couple of other friends, I always felt like the third wheel. Or I was a back-up best friend. And I felt as though I needed to fight somehow to keep their friendship. I needed to prove that I was worth staying friends with.

I feel like an inconvenience a lot. I feel like I'm burdening people. Or throwing a wrench into their lives somehow. I sometimes wonder if I deserve friends. Or if I have any at all. Maybe people are just pretending to like me out of pity. That's depressing as hell.

Some days, most days, I just retreat into my apartment. And I wonder if anyone will call me. And I try to convince myself that it'll be alright if they don't. I'm great at convincing myself of things like that.

I have a couple of friends who have the sorts of cell phones that are always ringing. To the extent that you can't hold a conversation with them without getting interrupted. Clearly, my cell phone is broken. It doesn't ring nearly as often as theirs. And when it does ring, it's usually my mother.

I never wanted to be the girl who sits next to her phone, waiting for the boy to call. But that's exactly what I've been doing. Brian said he'd call me Sunday night. I sent him a text message during the day to remind him to call me. He usually goes to bed around 10:00. I actually sent him a text message around 10:15, accusing him of having forgotten me. He ended up calling about half an hour later. You understand why he accused me of having trust issues.

He said he's going to stop calling me for a while. He wants me to understand that just because he's not calling, doesn't mean he hates me. Doesn't mean he's mad at me, or that he's forgotten about me, or that he doesn't care. I promised to try my best not to be paranoid and freak out about the whole thing, as is clearly my nature.

I think this is Brian's way of teaching me something. But I can already tell you that it isn't going to work the way he hopes it will. Because right now, what's going through my mind is that I want him in my life more than he wants me in his. Irrational, I know, but that's how I operate. I play defense. I worry. I think up the worst case scenarios.

I wish someone were here right now, physically here, to tell me that everything will be alright. I wish there were someone to cuddle with. Or someone to stroke my hair. Someone to softly sing an Anna Nalick song as I drifted off to sleep. Just so that I didn't feel so helpless and alone. Because, as I type this, it's 2:00am, and if I were the sort of person who cried regularly, I'd be near tears. My soul is rolled up into a ball in the corner. Tonight, the air carries the pain of February with it. Please, God, may I not get S.A.D. early this year. I can't take it. Please let it not come until after grad school auditions are over.

I want to trust people more. I want to have close friends without feeling as though I have to fight for them. I want to be emotionally available. I want to learn to be as vulnerable in life as I am in my writing. And I want to trust others enough that it feels okay to do that.

I want to be able to be in a relationship without feeling suffocated. I want to be able to find another person who cares about me an equal amount, not more, not less. I want to know what it is to complement another person. Not to need them. Not to have them need you. But to know that, although you'd be able to survive without each other, both of your lives are improved because of each other's presence.

I want to stop fearing that people are going to leave me. I want to know that I'm worth loving. I want to know that I can be the sort of person whose phone rings several times an hour, so that I'm not perpetually checking my email in order to pass the time.

I want something that I can't define. Something that words won't explain. Something that I can't wrap my head around. All I know is that I don't have it now, and I haven't a clue as to what it is or how to get it.

Sleep is kicking in... I'm not even going to bother proof-reading this. It's probably a disaster in terms of sense and spelling, but I'm too tired for me re-reading it to do much good.

May you be able to sort through your issues.

~A~

P.S. In case you're unaware, it is possible to "pause" the music on this page. It is also possible to switch to whatever song suits your fancy by clicking on the track.

Unresolved

Hello ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the new year.

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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


(In rehearsal for Picasso at the Lapin Agile.)

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


(Sniffing out my friend Zel on my birthday)

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


(Laying my claim on my friends Mike and Jim)

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


(Goofing off with Anna)

Eventful year, right?


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

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


(Dancing in Picasso at the Lapin Agile)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


And, perhaps the most terrifying of all...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

~A~


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