I've Been Meaning to Blog...

But I just don't have the interest these days.

I went and visited Phil. It rocked. I met his friends. I met his parents. I got a lot of good cuddling time in. And he brought so much joy into my world, I can't tell you.

When I got back to the USA, it felt wrong. Home isn't a place anymore; home is a person. I'm home when I'm with Phil.

I've had a cold/cough since December 7th. It just won't quit, even though I've had a Z-pack, two nasal sprays, and have been taking Mucinex-DM. I'm going back to the doctor tomorrow.

I finished out the year of 2010 in a room with 3 people over the age of 65, and 5 gay men I met that night. It should've been lonely. And strange. But it's alright. I celebrated with Phil over Skype at midnight GMT (7pm my time).

2010 was supposed to be The Year of the Crimson Diva. But what 2010 actually became was so much more than that. It was the year when I learned to accept and love myself as I am. And it was the year that I found someone else whom I love.

Maybe 2011 should be The Year When I Learn to Be a Lady. But that seems like too much of an undertaking. So instead it will be the year when I try to pare down on my things... and perhaps the year when I start being more organized.

To be honest, I like being a messy person. It's a lifestyle choice. I feel more in control of my space when I can take over and throw stuff everywhere. I like that.

But Phil is neat and organized. He's somewhat OCD about it. So we're both going to have to learn to compromise. I'm going to learn how to not hate organization. And he's going to have to learn how to deal with things not being in perfect order (because if he lines up the remote controls in a parallel manner, God help me, I may have to strangle him).

I wouldn't change on my own. But I'm going to try to change for him. I guess this must be getting serious.

Oh, who am I kidding. I think you all know this is serious. I love him. And I can't imagine my life without him.

This is the guy. This is it.

Of course, now I have to find a way to be with him.

I'm applying for a job in London that would give me a 6-month internship Visa. It would work out perfectly for my life goals. If you're a praying sort of person, I could use a little back-up on this one.

I'm also applying for Italian citizenship. And applying for a Tier 1 work Visa. And looking into other internships in the UK.

I have to get to him.

But in the meanwhile, he's coming to me.

I'm in rehearsals for a play right now. I have a great role. I'm having fun. It opens on January 21st.

On January 23rd, Phil lands in Florida. He'll be here for 10 days.

On January 28th, my parents land in Florida. They'll be able to see my play AND meet Phil.

It's a big couple of weeks for me. I'm excited. And scared.

And I really need to start cleaning my room.



May what your goals be great, and your accomplishments greater.

~A~

Facebook Thinks I'm a Star

People that Facebook is currently suggesting to me as friends (I am not kidding, this is the exact list, in its entirety):

- Aaron Lazar

- Alex Timbers

- Alice Ripley

- Brian D'Arcy James

- Brian Lowdermilk

- Celia Keenan-Bolger

- Danny Burstein

- Donna McKechnie

- Eric Schaeffer

- Felicia Finley

- Frank Hartenstein

- Gordon Greenberg

- Heidi Blickenstaff

- Jeanine Tesori

- Jeff Marx

- Jeremy Schonfeld

- Jessica Grové

*- John McDaniel (aka John McD from The Rosie O'Donnell Show)

*- Kelsey Fowler

- Kurt Deutsch

*- Leslie Becker

- Liz Callaway

- Marin Mazzie

*- Melissa van der Schyff

- Michael Cerveris

- Michael Longoria

- Tituss Burgess

- Tommy Tune

- Tyler Maynard

- Will Swenson

(I put asterisks next to the ones I've actually met... which is because they're all working on the pre-Broadway try-out of Bonnie & Clyde at my theatre right now. You know, the show I got a callback for last spring...)

I know most people who read my blog will have no idea who most of those people are. But suffice it to say, those people all have really great careers in musical theatre. All of them. There are Tony Award nominees (and winners!) up there. There are composers, choreographers, actors, and even a Broadway Production Stage Manager.

And I have enough friends in common with all of those people that Facebook suggested that I might know them.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I think I've entered the minor leagues.

May you start seeing signs of progress, no matter how minor and superficial they may be.

~A~

ETA: Newly suggested:

- Michael Arnold

- Max Crumm

- Ken Davenport

- Susan Egan

- Christopher Gattelli

- Gary Griffin

- Megan Hilty

- Tobin Ost

- Nikki Snelson

- J. Robert Spencer

- John Lloyd Young

ETA: Oh man, there are more!

- Erika Amato

- Michael Arden

*- Wayne Duvall

- Barrett Foa

- Jerry Mitchell

- Benj Pasek

- Ty Taylor

The State of the Angela Address

(In a crazy get-up to go out dancing with Two-Shots-Up in September.)


I have this strange feeling going through me right now. A need to cry. And I have no idea why.

So, as I often do when I have feelings that I can't explain, I'm going to talk it out with myself. And today, I've decided to do that in writing form. I have no idea what's about to come out. Honestly. So hang on, because this could be a weird ride.

I've been touring a show with my classmates. We do up to 3 performances a day. In our first 6 days of performances, we had 10 shows... which is a worse schedule than Broadway performers have (they do 8 shows in 6 days). We're traveling in two vans. One carries 2 actors, 9 chairs, 9 costumes, 1 sound system, 1 microphone & stand, 1 crate of random whatnot, and occasionally some lighting equipment (depending on the venue). The other van contains 1 stage manager and 7 actors. Some of our performance venues are up to 2 hours away. Then we get there, load-in everything ourselves, set up the show, get into costumes and make-up, perform, do a talk back, get out of costumes and make-up, load-out everything into the vans, and then drive to the next performance venue. (And sometimes, depending on the schedule, they give us each $7 for a less-than-healthy fast-food lunch.)

As you can imagine, it's insane. Most of the time, it's fun. We entertain ourselves backstage by making weird videos. Sometimes, it's really stressful. Sometimes I love my classmates. Sometimes I think they hate me. Sometimes I get sick of them complaining about everything (and each other).

But what makes it worthwhile are the kids. Most of our performances are in high schools. We've had a couple of rude audiences (like one that started verbally mocking us as we performed... or that time a kid in the front row was playing with a metal slinky during the ENTIRE PERFORMANCE, and we all wanted to strangle him with it). But for the most part, they've been great. We've come across a lot of students who are in awe of us. Or have learned more about this Greek play from our modernized production than they did from reading the classical text. And some kids have asked about how they can get into grad school like we did. And it's... great. I LOVE answering their questions. I love feeling like an expert. An authority. A scholar.

Of course, sometimes the schedule really blows. We did three shows yesterday. Which meant I was away from home for 11 hours. Which meant I didn't get to talk with Phil.

I talked to him today for, literally, 6 minutes. Between shows. As he was waiting to go into a work-related meeting. Thank God he has Skype on his phone, or we wouldn't have even gotten that. But it's frustrating to talk in that situation sometimes, just because he's in public and can't really tell me the things he wants to tell me. He doesn't want to get into his personal life in public. So instead he tells me about how he just re-watched Tropic Thunder and thinks it's brilliant, and then I tell him that I thought Tropic Thunder was barely watchable (except for Robert Downey Jr., who was actually pretty great). And then we mentally add it to the growing list of movies that we disagree about. And that's pretty much the whole conversation.

In case you missed it in my Twitter feed a while back, I'm going to see him.

Actually, that story was kind of a big deal in and of itself...

I'm doing something rather uncharacteristic of me...

I'm breaking a rule.

I'm skipping a class.

*GASP*

In two years of grad school, I have never missed a class, rehearsal, or performance. I was 20 minutes late to a class once during my 2nd-year because I somehow convinced myself that it was the weekend (whoops). But other than that, I have pretty great attendance. Actually, I might be the only person in my class who has never missed a class. *goes off to sift through memory* Okay, I don't remember Iceman missing any classes... but he's going to be missing one in November, so we're even.

I don't actually HAVE to miss class... I was originally going to go see Phil from December 2-9 (because I have class on the 2nd and the 10th... but I wouldn't land in the UK until the 3rd and would have to leave early on the 9th, so that's really only 6 days). But I found great airfare on the 27th... So I'm skipping class on the 2nd to have a few more days with Phil.

I am going to get in trouble for this. I am going to be yelled at. I might cry. I'm terrified to tell the head of my program (who is also directing me in a show that begins rehearsing on December 14th... so I hope he gets over his anger by then). Send prayers and good vibes that he's not too harsh on me. Because I do NOT handle confrontation and/or conflict well.

I think it's important, though. As a result of going earlier, I get to go to a wedding with Phil (well, actually, I get to go to the reception, and not the ceremony... But I get to meet a lot of his friends, which is cool). And I also get to travel with him to meet his parents. (EEK!)

When I officially bought my tickets (round-trip to London for under $600... Thank you Student Universe!), Phil was so, so, so happy. It might have been the happiest that I have ever made someone as a direct result of one of my actions. As for me, I was pretty elated as well. And I've been counting down the days.

He's going to try to come see me in the last week of January/first week of February. My parents are going to try to plan a visit that overlaps his, so that they can meet him.

Phil goes back and forth on how serious he's comfortable with this relationship being. Which I understand. I do it, too... I just do it more in my head. This relationship is a dangerous situation. But it still feels like I'm still accruing more happiness and positivity than frustration and fear. And whenever I get frustrated, it's because of the situation, not because of Phil. He's great. I just wish he lived within driving distance.

But other than that, things are going well. I'm still crazy about him. He's still crazy about me. And he's cool with me referring to him as my boyfriend now. :)

My classmates have started giving me advice on how far the physical part of my relationship with Phil should go. Some is positive, some is negative. Some is completely unsolicited, and some arises as part of discussions. Not all of it is helpful. But if nothing else, it's nice to know that people care about me and want what's best for me (whether it be protecting myself from things, or exposing myself to them). And that's all I'm going to say about that.

You know what actually kind of upset me today? Like three celebrity couples that I saw were splitting up. Should one be surprised when celebrity couples split? No, of course not. Fame puts a lot of stress on a relationship. But it still makes me feel uneasy.

Maybe it's because I've only recently started to think of myself as the marrying type... But I am TERRIFIED of the possibility of divorce. In my head, divorce is one of the worst things that I could possibly go through. That, and, like, pregnancy out of wedlock (which is, of course, one of the main reasons that I haven't had sex yet). In my head, those fates are worse than incurable diseases and house fires. Ridiculous? Probably. But that's where I am right now.

Okay, let's go on a random tangent:

My self-esteem is in a pretty good place right now. Which is unusual for me (and for artists in general). I feel more attractive than I ever have before (which is the combination of losing weight after tracking calories on SparkPeople, getting half-naked for a play, and having a man in my life who tells me how beautiful he thinks I am on a daily basis). I feel good about my art (and a couple of high-schoolers came up to me yesterday after a performance to tell me that I was their favorite actor in the show... which is amazing, considering that I'm a random member of the chorus). I'm good.

I'm still nervous about the citizenship whatnot. A friend of mine who said she wanted to move to London with me changed her mind this week. It's too hard to do it with visas. And that was a frightening reminder that I'm in a tough spot if I can't get dual-citizenship.

I haven't had time to blog. In any of the places that I'm supposed to. (And note how now that I have time, I'm blogging here... and not on one of the blogs that I'm expected to blog on for professional reasons. I am such a slacker.)

I sort of got a job. I do assistant-type work for a guy who lives in my town once a week for a couple of hours. He was born in 1931, but his two most recent ex-girlfriends were born in 1955. He's a hilarious, dirty old man, who tells me incredible stories. I love talking to him. He seems truly grateful for everything I do for him, which feels lovely. And he recently CC:ed me on an e-mail that he sent, in which he used the following sentence: "Angela is a jewel."

I had my first costume fitting for the upcoming season yesterday. I play an Italian flight attendant ("air hostess") in the 1960s. I'm going to look like the Italian flag vomited on me (green dress, white and red striped tights, white hat, green and red neck scarf). I'm wearing a tight (TIGHT!) low-cut dress, with a hemline that looks like a shirt when I raise my arms. They want to push up my boobs to Salma Hayek proportions. I'll be wearing a sassy black wig and -- my favorite part -- white go-go boots. I could not be more excited.

(So with the wig and the boobs, we're looking at something like this... Which, by the way, is one of my costumes for when I played a Dutch prostitute in a show in September.)

Okay, I've been writing for nearly an hour, and I still don't know why I'm upset.

Maybe I should just blame it on the dramatic emotional tendencies that come along with being an actor.

Or maybe I haven't gotten to the bottom of this yet.



May you know why you're feeling what you're feeling.

~A~

The Good News

(Me as Vittoria, my Commedia dell'Arte character for Movement class. 04/24/10)

I am officially done with classes. Which is crazy. I've been in a pattern for the last two years of my life that is about to change drastically, and I feel somewhat thrown by that.

Of course, I have another year at my Conservatory (during which I'll be acting in the Cool Regional Theatre, instead of taking classes). And before that, I'll be in classes in London for 6 weeks. But that's so not the same thing.

My super-secret callback for that pre-Broadway musical run? It went HORRENDOUSLY badly. Embarrassingly badly. I won't go into the whole story, but let it suffice to say that after singing, they didn't even keep me around to read the sides from the script that they had asked me to prepare. It was bad. And it made my self-esteem sink to a level even lower than my norm.

But then yesterday, I got my casting for the season.

My self-esteem has bounced back as a result. I'm just fine.

Unfortunately, after a couple of my classmates and I posted our casting on facebook, I promptly received 4 (FOUR!!!) e-mails from people who work at the theatre asking me to remove it from my profile (with degrees of tone varying from polite-yet-stern to scalding-veiled-threat). Why they didn't tell us that the casting was confidential when they gave it to us is beyond me. (Especially as they usually make a point to tell me if there's something that I can't put in my blog... which, fortunately for them, I hadn't done with my casting yet.)

So I deleted my casting from my facebook status. But when I ran into the head of my program today, he yelled at me about it once more. Even though I had already taken it down. You know, in case the FOUR E-MAILS I had received hadn't properly conveyed the severity of my misstep. *sigh*

But I do have a good season. I may not have gotten into the musical, but I did get a great role. In fact, I got exactly the wish that I sent To the Universe. And on top of the great role that I got, I'm also in the ensembles of two other shows, and I'm going to be in a new play festival in some as-yet-to-be-determined capacity.

In short, I'll quote Natalie Imbruglia when she won the MTV Video Music Award for Best New Artist in 1998:

I am a very happy bunny.

(\ (\
(='-')
(_")")

Sadly, I cannot say the same for all of my classmates. I'm not positive that I've heard/remembered everything correctly, but I think the breakdown* is:

- One girl has 2 leads and 1 supporting role. (yeah, she totally cleaned up... but she's fiercely talented)
- One boy has 1 lead, and is in the super-awesome-pre-Broadway musical (but his role is TBA).
- One boy has 1 lead, 1 supporting role, and 2 ensemble roles.
- I have 1 lead, and 2 ensemble roles.
- One boy has 1 lead, and 2 ensemble roles
- One girl has 1 lead, and 1 ensemble role.
- Three boys have 1 supporting role and 3 ensemble roles.
- One girl has 3 ensemble roles. (which sucks, and I don't fully understand why it happened)
- (And one girl hasn't gotten her casting yet... but based on what we haven't heard casting for yet, I'm going to guess that she has 2 leads, and 1 ensemble)

*(Note: If I wrote "lead", it means they fall somewhere between "awesome, good-sized role" to "star of the play". If I wrote "supporting" it means "character with a name". If I wrote "ensemble" in means that they were told something like "maid", "lady", "servant", "ensemble", or "chorus" in their casting meetings.)

Actually, when I break it down like that, my stuff doesn't look quite as exciting as it actually is to me. But trust me, I AM EXCITED. (ETA: Also, in comparison to the class ahead of us, my class fared better on average.)

And you know what? It's hard to be excited when you're around people who are disappointed. Especially when those people are ones whom you love, care about, and believe in.

I know what they're going through, because I went through it this year. I know what it feels like to be given a mediocre-to-weak season while surrounded by people who got great ones. I know how it makes you question yourself, and your talent, and your reputation. It makes you wonder how others perceive you, and makes you want to defend yourself. It puts you in a position of continually seeking validation. And that sucks.

I spent so much of yesterday worried about the disappointed people I love, that I actually took very little time to revel in my own luck and success. Also, it doesn't feel real yet.

It's funny; doing badly in my musical callback shook up my world. But great casting brought me to a state of relief more than one of joy.

Maybe it's just that I've regained equilibrium.

Or maybe failure is more immediately tangible than success.

Or maybe I can't process the happiness because of the melancholy around me.

But I am content.

And relieved.

And proud.

And validated.

Yes. And I'll take it.

May the good outweigh the bad in the end.

And may the sadness of others never prevent you from feeling joy.

~A~

To My Secret-Keepers

(Me and my classmate Wifey. Yes, I'm tan, thanks for noticing. 04/14/10)

I am an excellent secret-keeper.

I am also an excellent source of information (including that of a restricted nature).

As a result, most people don't know about (or perhaps would not be inclined to believe in) my secret-keeping prowess. But I promise it's true.

I am still holding on to some major secrets that people have told me in the past. I've held one of them for 13 years, and I've never told anyone (and it is still pertinent information today). And I've discovered secrets that I really shouldn't know about that I've kept without being asked to. This includes at least one secret that affects me deeply, and that I am pained by the weight of, to the point that I occasionally hide it from myself.

But honestly? I hate keeping secrets. Especially my own.

So to the dedicated handful of followers who read this blog, even when I have long absences from it, I will now deign you my secret keepers. You have played that role for me already, as you know. And have read some blog posts that have since gone back to the mysterious land of "drafts", where I hope most people will never see them.

Today, I have two secrets for you. Keep them for me.


The first secret...

Remember a now-deleted theoretical post about what someone might do if they were put into a potentially abusive situation with a classmate or coworker?

Well, I took an action. An action I wasn't planning to take. A rather mild one, actually.

I haven't seen and repercussions of it yet. But I'm terrified of them.

And I already regret ever having said or done anything at all.

In this particular case, I just don't think it was worth the risk.

Especially since things are calm at the moment... and I may have just aggravated the waters.




The second secret...

Remember how I was asked to audition for a pre-Broadway run of a musical?

They've asked me to audition again.

And they've asked me not to tell anyone.

Normally, the theatre asking me to hide something from my classmates is something that I would falsely agree to, but then promptly disobey. After all, I hate keeping secrets. And I see no reason to keep theatre secrets from my class (whom I firmly believe should know what's going on at all times if they wish to).

And since my classmates will know my casting in 8 days anyway, it seems silly not to tell them about an audition I have in 6 days...

But I'm not going to tell them.

First of all, I don't want them to be jealous.

Second, I don't want them to beat themselves up for the next 8 days over it.

Third, if I end up not getting into the show, I don't want them to know that I had a second chance and failed.

...

(Yes, I know that the third one is silly, selfish, negative, and vain. But it's in my head.)

Fourth, this secret makes me feel a little bit powerful. The previous times I've had secrets of this nature about casting handed to me by the theatre, a select few held the same information that I did. And it seemed obvious that the information would get around. But right now, I am the only person that knows that I have this audition. Not a single one of my classmates knows. Neither of my roommates knows. The people who know are me, the people in charge of the theatre, my parents, and now you.

I suppose you could say that by putting this on the internet, I'm not keeping the secret very well. And maybe you're right. After all, I know a few people down here that know of this blog's existence. It's possible that my classmate Wifey (or her husband) is reading it right now. Or a certain 3rd-year. But I trust them. And frankly, I'm pretty sure that they don't read this anymore.



Anyway. Those are the things in my life that I don't talk about with people down here. Thank you for being my confidants.


May you be better secret-keepers than I have been today.

~A~

To the Universe

Okay, so I keep hearing lately that if you want something, sometimes you have to say you want it. Put it out into the universe.

I've prayed. And lit candles at Mass (which have been surprisingly successful). And I finally just sent an e-mail to the Head of my program about something that I really want.

So I'm going to put it into the internet, where it will surely reach all expanses of the universe.

I WANT GOOD CASTING NEXT YEAR!!!

I want to be one of the stewardesses in Boeing Boeing.

I know that they've already cast one of the three stewardesses as an Equity actress, and rumor has it that they chose the show with one of my fellow classmates in mind for another of them. So that only leaves one role left that could possibly go to me, and it could just as easily go to the classmate whom I seem to be interchangeable with. And she has requested the show as well. But she gets everything. I JUST WANT THIS ONE THING. PLEASE GOD LET ME GET THIS ONE. I NEED TO WIN ONE RIGHT NOW!!!

I would also really, really, really like to be in Bonnie & Clyde. It seems like a total long-shot... But even if I get into that (which, don't get me wrong, would be AMAZING AND AWESOME), I'm guessing I'd be in the background chorus, not in an interesting role.

And I just want one good role while I'm in grad school. Just one.

They chose 6 shows for next year's season:
- One play is only men.
- One play has no women under the age of 50
- One play has four women characters who are all TINY roles. The best among them only speaks one word at a time (which is funny, I guess). The other three don't show up until part way through the final act, and are (frankly) indistinguishable from each other.
- One play has 6 female roles (and a bazillion male roles, as usual), none of which I seem to be right for. (One is a "plump" woman, one is half-black, two are "old", and the other two small roles -- usually played by one woman -- are rumored to be cast already).
- Bonnie & Clyde (which, like I said, is a long shot, but I would be lucky -- and honored -- to be in the chorus of)
- Boeing Boeing -- a play with 4 women and 2 men.

I've read all the plays with women in my age range. Boeing Boeing is the one I'm right for. It's a silly, ridiculous, shallow, hilarious little play. And I am, if I may say so, a silly, ridiculous, shallow, hilarious little girl.


I just don't want this year to be a repeat of last year. I don't want them to think, "Oh, Angela can do anything, so we'll just put her wherever we need someone." This, my friends, is the curse of not having a strong type. I understand that it can be a blessing to not be pigeon-holed, but it also means that no one thinks of me first for anything.


And really, I don't want to leave this place without having a real role. Because honestly, if I can't get a good role here, how can I expect to get a good role anywhere?

And it's not for lack of talent or effort! (I'm sorry to brag, but it's true.) I'm good at what I do. Very good. And I think you'd be hard-pressed around here to find anyone to tell you otherwise.


I remember an episode of Seinfeld about how things have a way of evening out. I'm not complaining, but I think the black stones have been piling up on the scale in the last eight months of my life (yes, this is an allusion to Lost. Sorry for mixing karmic television ideas). I need a big white stone to balance out my scale. And the white stone that I want is good casting.



May God smile on us all.

~A~

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~

Present Perfect

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


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

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

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

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

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

(Stephen's name is totally on it!)

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

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

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

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

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


May you end up somewhere that you like being.

~A~

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

Secretly Cinderella

[NOTE: Part of this post was taken verbatim from yesterday's post on my grad school blog, but this one is longer and more detailed.]

Today was my first audition at grad school. And it was... weird.

Normally, auditioning doesn't make me nervous. My Shakespeare coaches taught me to go into every audition with the mentality that I'm proud of what I've worked on, I'd like to share it with them, I think they'll like it, and it doesn't bother me if I'm not what they're looking for.

But this wasn't like most auditions.

Usually when you audition for things, you don't know any of the people in the room with you. Today wasn't like that. When I walked out onto the stage, I saw:

- My Analysis Professor (who is also the head of the program)
- My Acting Professor
- My Voice Professor
- My Movement Professor
- The 2nd Year Acting Professor (who is the woman who called me back at URTAs both years)
- Three 2nd year directing students, who are in two of my classes with me
- One of my roommates (she was helping to run the auditions and time monologues)

Yeah. Weird.

And I know they're all on my side. But to see people out of the corner of your eye writing things down on notepads, and knowing that it's not just about whether to cast you, but also all the flaws that they need to correct over the next three years?

Nerve-wracking.

I totally rushed my pieces. By about 10-20 seconds. Which doesn't sound like much, but it's a lot (especially when you have 3 minutes to do two monologues).

I talked to my roommate, and she said I did a great job. She also complimented my choice of monologues, saying they were of excellent contrast (something that not everyone achieved with their pieces).

Apparently, most people start figuring out what their "type" is while there here. Some are obvious from the get-go. One of my classmates is clearly built to be an ingenue. One is a tough guy. One girl looks more maternal. One guy is the pretty-boy leading man. One is going to be our main "character actor". This is not to say that they can't do other things; they can. Everyone here is a versatile actor. But in this business, it's good to know who you are, what people think of you, and what you can specialize in. It'll help you get more work.

No one can really type me yet. One of my classmates said he was mentally putting me as "the sexpot", but now that he's gotten to know me, I think I've broken that in his mind. No one else has really given me a good idea of what I might end up being.

My roommate said that, based on my audition, she thinks I'm going to play both extremes: leading ladies AND character roles. I really, really, really hope she's right. That would be the ideal situation for me. Specialization is nice and all, but I'd really love to have the opportunity to try the leading lady role. Once I hone that skill, I think I can rock it. And, more importantly, I don't want to be shut off from any path yet. I want to try a little of everything.

I tend to be cast in "character actress" sorts of roles. Not that I don't adore character work; I do. (Clearly... I did, after all, create Carmella and Hot Cocoa.) But just once, I'd like to be something a little different. In college, I played an Irish priest, a karate-fighting Mexian lawyer nun, a dead 75-year-old British woman, an ugly stepsister, a 50-year-old church gossip, a new-age sort of hippie... But I've never played the protagonist. I've never been the love interest that the leading man was trying to pursue. I've never played the strong young woman that I think is part of who I am in life.

I want to know what it is to be Cinderella instead of an ugly stepsister. And I know I can do it. I hope they realize that, too.

Apparently, they type you with your understudy assignments. If that's true, then I should have a better idea sometime next week.

Well, I should go do some homework. I've been switching between working on my Oedipus paper and watching season 4 of Battlestar Galactica (which takes forever, because I'm doing it online and nothing loads quickly). I'm also headed to a party tonight that's being thrown by some of the program's donors. Apparently it's an annual event and usually ends with several people getting naked. I plan to leave before it gets to that point.


May you know who you are and, more importantly, who you can be.

~A~

Working It Out

One of my coworkers realized that yesterday would be our last day working together (as I took today off, and she's out Thursday and Friday). When I came back to my desk after a break, there was a bouquet on my chair with a card. In the card, she referred to me as "Sunshine" (my nickname around the office), wished me luck, and told me that she'd miss me. When I went to thank her, she told me not to hug her or she'd cry. I saw the tears in her eyes and I knew she that she meant it.

I've been close with several of my coworkers, but not as much with her. We have a friendly, joking relationship. I've never been around her outside of the workday. I was astonished to learn that the comments I've gotten from her like "I'll miss you", "don't go", and "I'm happy for you" were genuine. They're the same things I've heard from everyone, but they just seemed like the sorts of generic comments that you're expected to throw out when someone's leaving.

She said she knows I'm going to be famous one day (she said she can picture me on Grey's Anatomy), even though she's only seen me act once. She said she would like to be my agent, manager, and publicist. She told me how happy she is for me that I'm getting out of my day job and pursuing my dream. She said she was proud of me, and hopes that I won't forget her when I make it big. She also said that she doesn't think the office will be the same without me there to liven things up.

I got a little teary-eyed along with her.

I also came close to getting emotional when saying goodbye to my favorite cashier on the café floor. She watched me type at lunch during NaNoWriMo, and we often discuss the Oldies songs playing on the speakers. She's one of a handful of people in the world who I have allowed to refer to me as "Ange" (Note: some Angela's spell this "Ang", but then it looks like it rhymes with tang. In reality, it sounds more like the ending of "orange"... but it doesn't actually rhyme, as nothing rhymes with orange). She bought me my lunch as a going-away present and told me how much she's going to miss seeing me. It wasn't much, but it meant a lot to me.

It's incredible to see how much you affect other people's lives without realizing it.

I wasn't upset at missing the party today. It occurred to me that it doesn't matter. I don't need a party. The people who want to wish me well will find their own ways to do it.

I've refrained from discussing my work place on this blog for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is trying to retain my relative anonymity; I don't want my place of work to know I blog, and I don't want blog stalkers to surprise me at work. But I suppose that both are less of a worry now that I only have a couple of days left.

I work in a massive skyscraper that's located in the middle of downtown Chicago (I work about a block away from the famed Magnificent Mile). I'm on the 12th floor, and I have my own window. Observe my view:


When I started my job, I loved it. It's strange to think back to that. Operations within my department have changed a bit since I first started, which has something to do with my disillusionment. But mostly I think the change was in me. It took me some time to understand that I don't want to settle for an office job. I need to work in theatre. When I first got there, I was happy just to have a steady paycheck. I now know that I need more than that. I've taken the corporate road, and I found myself at a dead end. I'm ready to begin the long, lonely hitchhike of the starving artist. It won't be easy, but I think I'll be happier in the long run.

It actually turned out to be a bit of providence that I had taken today off of work, as I woke up completely sick. Yes, I'm sick again, thanks to the worst immune system on the planet (have I mentioned that I've gotten the chicken pox TWICE?). It was a blessing not to have to force myself to go to work. Of course, it meant I was unable to do all the things I'd intended to do today... But I did sort out the health insurance issues I was having with my university. And I did three loads of laundry (although I still have about four left to do... mostly bedding, towels, and winter clothes). So that's something.

Here's hoping that my final days of work go smoothly.


May you know how appreciated you are.

~A~


P.S. Thank you to Rachel, Nico, and Rachel for nominating me for Featured Blogger on 20 Something Bloggers! Today was the first time I've ever been nominated, and I was grinning from ear-to-ear as a result. It seriously is an honor just to be nominated!

High School & Drama

I have so many things that I want to talk about, and it is a completely daunting task. Especially since I only have about 40 minutes to do it.

Last week, I got the chance to hang out with a bajillion people that I went to high school with.

First, my friend Kate was in town, so a bunch of people met up at a bar to see her. Amanda, Sean, Tracy, Sharriese, and I played darts and caught up on each other's gossip (like how Amanda is now in a beach bocce ball league, and how Sean appeared on My Life on the D-List). It was a great time.

Then I went to Michigan for four days. I'm originally from there, but my parents moved to Connecticut, so I rarely visit. I stayed with my friend Ian, and got to see a ton of my friends (for my O-town buddies, it was: Megan, Zel, Erin, Natasha, Taylor, Phil, Ann, Maddie, Nyal, and Mary). For the first time in my life, I actually became intoxicated in Michigan. Megan and I spent a couple of hours in Target, and a couple in Meijer (our traditions). I got to go back to the mall where I used to work (at the Customer Service desk, and also at a long-since-closed boutique run by crazy Asian people -- The Crazians, as I like to call them).

I also got to go see my old house (my parents haven't been able to sell it yet) for the first time in a year. It's mostly empty, and very strange. I feel as if a slice of my past has just died off. I cried when I went into my old bedroom. The design I painted on my wall had been covered by white. My carpet had been changed, to remove the nail-polish spill from when I was six. And it looked just like a room. Any room at all. No one would ever know I'd been there.

I learned something about myself while I was there: sometimes Drunk-Angela HATES other drunk people. Normally, I'm a silly person. I will sing or dance in public without provocation. I slip in and out of accents. I'm a total goofball. But when I drink, I get more serious. And drunk people who are acting in the way I do sober (although they do it in a more outlandish and moronic version)? I become convinced that they're putting on an act. They're "playing" drunk, the way they think they should. They're using the alcohol as an excuse to be jerks (in their case, it was really more jerks than goofballs... erratically spilling coffee on each other, throwing things, attacking the dog). I wanted to punch them all.

Anyway. Aside from that, it was a great trip. I'm glad I got to go home one last time. I know that no matter where else I go in life, that town will always be my real home.

When I got back to Chicago, I found out that I was not playing Sister Terry this weekend, even though I'm fully trained. And I was pretty heartbroken. There's no way I'm going to get to play her now. This coming weekend is Frankie Avalon weekend, which means that everything becomes insane and hectic so that Frankie Avalon can play Tina's godfather (not normally in the script) for a sold-out weekend of shows. They will NOT put me up next week (even if the normal Sister Terry is sick... they'd just call someone who had done it before). And the last day of Frankie week is the day that I have to give my three-week notice. I'm quite sure the director won't put me up once he knows I'm leaving.

It's so sad. And very frustrating.

And the whole show is so stressful right now. Everyone is going completely nuts in preparation for Frankie week. I got yelled at about five times yesterday for things I've never been yelled at for in the past. At one point while scolding me, one person actually took a step back and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. But I'm stressed, and Black Staff are the easiest people for me to take it out on." The joys of being at the bottom of the totem pole.

They're making us take a "Frankie test" to make sure that we know the man's entire life story before he shows up. They told us we had to get 100%, but that we'd get a few chances to take it. Yesterday night was our first chance. Only 4 people got 100% on their Frankie tests on the first try.

The director (he only shows up on Fridays) started going off on how clearly, we weren't that dedicated to the show, even though some people only missed 1 or 2 questions (although a few others missed more than 20 out of 25... for the record, I missed 6, and I thought that was pretty damn good for someone who hasn't done Frankie week in the past). He read off the whole list of people who failed aloud (even though it had already been read by both Lauren and Matt), and started playing individual guilt trips (especially on the girl who normally plays Tina, even though she only missed 2 questions). He then said that some of the people whose names he had just called were already "on thin ice", and that after Frankie week, he's going to be firing people.

He said that we are ALL replaceable, and that he is more than willing to call old cast members to play all of our roles (including Black Staff). He said that whoever fails the test today will be replaced. He then told the Stage Manager to make a BRAND NEW TEST for today (something that he says he hasn't done in 10 years).

I'm freaking out. My family is coming this week, and if I'm not even on Black Staff, I know they're going to be upset. I'm going to a study group at Starbucks at 4:30 with a bunch of the girls (our test is at 5:30). Hopefully, we'll study the right things. The Stage Manager promised she was going to make it as easy as possible to help us all pass.

My family, by the way, bought their tickets the first week that I was in the show (the first week of May). They didn't do it because it's Frankie week, but because my parents were going to be in town anyway (my dad has a conference here). Originally, I had been told that I'd be a character after about 4 weeks. How many weeks is this now? 10? 11? I lost count. But I'm sure as hell not a character. Anyway. My parents figured it would be the perfect time to get the whole family to come. So some aunts, uncles, a brother, a cousin, and my grandma all got tickets to come as well. Once they found out I wouldn't be a character, a couple of them canceled. And the rest... well, I think they'll be disappointed. Black Staff doesn't get to do nearly as much fun stuff during Frankie week. All eyes have to be on Frankie, so the rest of us don't really matter.

I'm supposed to get my hair dyed one color in a couple of hours. Sister Terry would only have one color of hair, and I currently have two. My black-red-purple has faded into a brown-with-highlights. I actually think it looks pretty sweet, but when they asked me to dye my hair, I made the appointment. I was just excited that I might get a chance. Last night I went out dancing/drinking with a bunch of the girls (someone's birthday is this week), and they were telling me not to do it. I'm debating this act of rebellion.

I just don't want to do anything wrong, you know? Because if I don't go up before I leave, I'm always going to wonder... "Is it because I didn't dye my hair?" "Is it because I missed a question on my second Frankie test?" "Is it because I didn't answer all those questions they gave me?"

Yes, I know that's ridiculous. Yes, I know that if I don't go up, it's going to be because of bad timing and not anything I did wrong. Logically, I know that. But I over-think everything. It's just what I do.

More people have started discussing when they're leaving. At least two other people are giving their notices the same day that I am, and apparently several more are considering it. Which is kind of too bad for me. If they had quit a month ago, I could've been a character by now. But they all wanted to stay long enough to do Frankie week.


May you never suffer from a lack of character.

~A~

Stranger in My Own Town

I have been having one of the most fun weekends in recent memory. And I've loved every minute of it. (Well, except for the minute where I cried in front of my boss... but we'll get to that.)

On Thursday, I officially watched Sister Terry for the first time in a performance as opposed to a rehearsal. And, I have to say, it was beyond bizarre. First off, when you're watching a character, you don't go out during the pre-show, and I was rather sad about it. It's so fun being able to interact with the audience in character. I didn't realize I'd become that attached to the opportunity, but I have.

Then I got to sit in on the ceremony, which is a part of the show that I haven't seen since I attended a performance before being hired. It was neat to see that again. I'd forgotten a lot of what happens during it.

The strangest part was the reception. I've become accustomed to performing certain tasks during every performance. I usually take certain things upon myself, like standing guard to prevent audience members from getting in the way of a chase sequence, or pre-setting certain props. But when you're in training for a character, you sit at a table at the back of the room and observe. You're not supposed to lift a finger. And the first time you watch, you're not even supposed to take notes. You just have to keep your eyes glued to the character you're watching (even at the times when they're just ad-libbing). I kept wanting to assist my fellow Black Staffers, but had to supress the urges. What a strange thing that is, the desire to work when you don't have to.

Friday night, I had arranged for two of my favorite people to come see the show: my college buddy Renee and my dotcomrade-turned-friend Jenn.

Before the show, there was a complication with reserving their tickets. This led to me having an irrational emotional breakdown in front of the stage manager, the director, and the director's mother who runs things. So basically, my three bosses (or the three people who have the ability to fire me). Yeah. Not the most professional thing. It was horribly embarrassing. Especially when the director's mother loudly asked if I was on my period (for the record, NO... I was just a little sleep-deprived).

I played my Hot Cocoa character (although I grabbed the wrong name tag, so they thought I was just a really ghetto Carmella or something). And my buddy Dan (perhaps my favorite person in the cast to play off of) was playing Vito. Usually, Vito and Hot Cocoa have a pretty volatile relationship, as we've decided that they're exes. But on Friday, they were both pretty into each other. I can't tell you how many times I got felt up on Friday night. Or how many times I turned my head and noticed that Vito was standing behind me checking out my rear. Or how many times I was being grabbed without warning. And at one point, we were talking with our faces so close to each other that I actually got lip gloss on him (on his mouth, I think... awkward. Does that count as a kiss? SUPER awkward.)

As soon as the show ended, Renee, Jenn, and I went off to the sensabulously amazical (yes, I just made up words -- want to fight about it?) huge Chicago Blogger Meet-up that we've been anticipating for what seems like years. To be honest, I'm sure I can't even remember everyone I met... Here's who I remember being there:

- Angela (um, that'd be me)
- Angie (angilio)
- Dan (Dan Mega)
- "Deutlich" (Speak On It)
- Jamie (Oh! How Lovely!)
- Jenn (You are flawed if you are not free.)
- Jessi (The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City)
- "Joy" (Big Time Fancy)
- "Kayleigh" (No Guts, No Glory)
- Maxie (i hate so much...)
- Pete (the situation has deteriorated)
- "Princess Pointful" (...and hijinks ensued)
- Rachel (I'm a mom in real life)
- Renee (A Beautiful Day in the Reneeborhood)
- Veronica (unemployed Cornellian)

Forgive me if I've forgotten anyone (and remind me!). But did you SEE that list? When was the last time you saw a roster of a blogger meet-up that had that many people on it? I'd have to go with... never. Which proves, once and for all, that the Chicago blogger community (at least within the sub-group of Twenty Something Bloggers) is the most social.

Actually, I shouldn't use this as an example. After all, it was only because we were hosting out-of-towners that the evening was so successful (Renee, Deutlich, Maxie, and Princess Pointful all had to roadtrip in).

We met at a bar, and talked up a storm. Pete and Joy discussed "Call of Duty". Dan Mega and Jenn explained their tattoos to each other. Renee, Maxie, and Deutlich discussed recent happenings on the 20sb forum. Everything flowed smoothly and without any detectable awkward moments. It felt like we all knew each other already (because, well, we did).

Afterward, nine of us continued on to Clarke's to grab some grub and be generally ridiculous. I got a baked apple pancake thing. It was massive, and served with 5 packets of butter, but no syrup. I ate about a fifth of it before giving up entirely and just singing along with Maxie to whatever songs were playing while we dined. It was delightful.

Dan Mega, talking with his hands at Clarke's

The next morning, I met up with Deutlich, Maxie, Jenn, Jessi, and Jamie to go on the Chicago Cupcake crawl that has been in the works for months. We started out at a desert shop called Sweet Mandy B's, which was cute as a button, but busy as all get-out.

Me, Jenn, Jessi, Maxie, Jamie, and Deutlich's arm. (Deutlich has been cut out to preserve her anonymity... she's like a superhero, and only a select few can know her true identity.)

From there, we headed on to Swirlz Cupcakes, which I think we'd all agree was the winner of the outing. The people there were delightful, and the cupcakes were delicious. Deutlich and I were both having difficulty deciding between the "Banana Nutella" and the "Chocolate Peanut Butter", so we decided to get one of each and split them. And they were both just sensational. When the woman running the shop found out we were a group of bloggers, she gave us some extra cupcakes for free so that we could share our knowledge with our readers. She gave us a gluten-free red velvet cupcake that tasted no different from the regular red velvets we already had on our table (so note: if you know anyone with a gluten allergy, this is the place to take them!). We savored our cupcakes and giggled like little girls. I loved it.

Cupcakes from Swirlz

Jamie enjoying a cupcake.

Jessi & Jenn

Jenn, Me, Deutlich, Maxie, and Jamie

After that, we headed to The Taste of Chicago, which happens to be going on this week. It was a madhouse. The streets are filled with booths of food from various restaurants, and you trade tickets for various confections. I had a nutella crepe. Maxie had tempura. Jessi, Jenn, and Jamie had hotdogs. I don't remember what Deutlich ended up with... I just remember her distress at being unable to get a turkey leg because the wait was too long.



Walking through The Taste

Maxie, Jenn, and Jessi in front of Buckingham Fountain.

The best part of having tourists in town? It provides a marvelous excuse to do all the touristy things that I've never done in the two years of living in this city. And so, for the first time, I went to Millennium Park.

Deutlich in front of The Bean

There were lighted faces on brick walls that spat water at us. There was a giant Bean that reflected us like a fun house mirror. There was a garden. There was a trench of cold water to kick our feet in. It was magical.

Jenn & Maxie standing in the water between the spitting brick wall face things.

Jenn dipping her foot into the icy cold water of the foot bath trench

Jessi, Jenn, Maxie, and Jamie at the foot trench.

I left my darling ladies in order to get a special rehearsal for TnT to learn choreography in case become a bridesmaid before Frankie Avalon week (odds of that actually happening: slim to none... or just none). It was some of the cheesiest choreography you've ever seen in your life, and I LOVE it. Hilarious. And because I had gotten there so early, I also got fitted for a Sister Terry costume. I can't begin to tell you how stoked/amped/geeked/pumped I am about that.

I then watched through the show, taking notes. It's unbelievable how many things happen during the course of the production. Depending on where you're sitting in the room, you'll get a different sense of the story. I've done something like eight or nine weekends now, and while I was watching on Saturday I saw things for the first time. Like one character going through the purse of another when she wasn't paying attention. Or a male character kissing a female character, causing her to run out of the reception hall in hysterics. Or a male character lifting up his shirt and displaying his nipples proudly to a table of women in the audience (I'm fairly certain that doesn't happen every show). It's so much fun to be a part of a production like this, in which you're constantly being surprised by the other actors. It forces you to pay attention to everything, and to always react in character.

After the show, I met up with the bloggers again. But at that point, Jamie had been replaced by Dan Mega and a guy named Stan at a Giordano's. We sat around talking about anything and everything, as bloggers are prone to do. After we left, Jenn and I purchased hoodies at a Walgreens because of the unexpected chill in the night air. I got a lovely piggy-back ride, courtesy of Dan Mega, which made me and my tired feet extremely happy. And we ended up chilling at a bar in Lincoln Park for awhile longer.

It felt like no one really wanted our time together to end. Even after we'd all decided to go home and had begun to go on our separate ways, I ended up on the corner of Belmont and Clark talking to Dan Mega and Jessi for an additional 40 minutes in the rain. That's how much we enjoyed each other's company; we kept extending our goodbyes.

A glorious transvestite and her posse, as observed by Dan Mega, Jessi, and I on the corner of Belmont & Clark.

I should've gone to the Gay Pride Parade today to support the Tony 'n Tina's cast members who were walking in it, but I didn't. I stayed inside, doing very little of anything, and reflecting on how much fun I've had in the last few days.

I love summer. I love bloggers. I love Chicago. And I'm so very, very happy right now.

My heart feels full, not broken.

And for that, I'm grateful.

So thank you, to all the glorious bloggers who made me smile this weekend.


May you be a tourist in your own town.

~A~


P.S. You know my coworker who thought I looked like Lindsay Lohan? She has now changed her mind and thinks I look like Stella McCartney. Um, what? No, I don't.

P.P.S. I will be adding links to everyone else's versions of the Blogger events as I stumble across them:

- Jenn's version: Only the Best Weekend Ever
- Dan Mega's blurbs: Well and Sometimes
- Jessi's version: Olympic glory & a blog-errific weekend
- Angie's mention: how i love my lists
- Joy's version: Chicago Bloggers, Wedding & Beer Pong
- Rachel's version: How to be late meeting a Chicago blogger
- Pete's mention: high ate us
- Deutlich's version: Boystown and Booty Grease
- Maxie's version: Chicago!
- Princess Pointful's version: When bloggers collide- Parts 3, 4 and 5

Words Will Be Enough

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love being a blogger.

*sigh*

I feel better.

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


May you be able to write your cares away.

~A~



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

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

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

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

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