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Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness I am really excited about something, if you can't tell.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
I think I might have post traumatic stress syndrome.
I mean, there are parts of me that have been around forever. Things that I am used to, that I even like now. Like the beauty mark in the middle of my forehead that causes random strangers to accuse me of playing with hindu tattoos. Or at least one random stranger, anyway. In a coffee shop. True story. But I am used to the fact that my eyes are brown, but green too when the sun shines in them just so. Or even that I hear myself referred to as skinny more often than anything else; that I can continue to use my own preference of slender as much as I can, slipping it into casual conversation in a clumsy attempt at subliminal messaging, but that won’t make my friend David stop saying that I am the skinniest person he’s ever met. And it won’t change the fact that I get no compassion when I complain about this to others either. Rather, they tell me that they’d love to be called skinny just once. And again, I am skinny. Not slender, but skinny, subliminal messaging and all.
But now I have a syndrome and I hate it.
Now when my phone rings or I get a text telling me to please call, I have a visceral reaction. My heart starts beating faster and faster, racing to I don’t know where, but it’s getting there way too soon. My breathing becomes shallow and I taste panic. It is not savory, it is not sweet; it is fear and it is pervasive. It starts in my mouth and eventually makes it down to my stomach so that there is no longer any room for food. And I become full and nauseous at once as all I know to do is wait for myself to waste away because nobody can live on fear for too long. Which is a little bit nice in the moment since it means that there is an end.
And an end to a very bad thing is actually a very good thing.
This morning, for instance, my brother called me before 9 am. And to a performer, that is early. Nobody calls me then, not even my mom. But he called and I was scared and if I am going to be honest, too scared to answer. So I didn’t. Whatever it was, I wanted to be blissfully ignorant for just a little bit longer. But then he texted and told me to call him. Shoot. No more sweet naivety. Instead, the panic. Instead, the heart beating hard enough to sustain a few hundred, rather than just one skinny (if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?) female.
And there it was, not even 9 in the morning and I was being reminded of my new syndrome. Nice. Perhaps, along with the simple task of answering a phone call from my brother, the sounds of my spoon against my cereal bowl will be just too much for me today also.
*oh, and on a completely different note, I was inspired by my brother who just added snow to his blog. So not to be outdone, I went out and got some for myself. Because of it being December and all. And because of my competitive nature and all. Hope the snowflakes don't annoy you guys too much...Unfortunately, mine look more like dandruff while my brother's look more like the beautiful romanticized snowflakes we all see on the victorian christmas cards we never do quite get around to mailing, but oh well. Merry Christmas anyway.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Me and Ollie in pencil and ink.
Monday, November 30, 2009
It's always strange when somebody steps out of character for a moment. As a kid, when I overheard my mom say she was really P.O.'d about something, it was like I'd heard an angel take God's name in vain, it was so shocking.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Who seems to think that they are bigger and badder than they really are.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I woke up today with one clear thought.
And I like it.
But it's a two-part process. I am going back on Tuesday and we're gonna make this hair blonde, darn it.
But for now it's a change, and I'll take it.
Yesterday I went on a walk and saw some deer. I kept getting closer and closer to them and unbelievably, they stayed put. But then my camera died before I could take a good close-up, so there you go. They had antlers and everything. I guess in this case everything entails legs, torsos, heads, necks, hooves, and tails.
I was in the shadows. I am in the shadows, but somewhere the sun is shining. Sometimes that gives me hope and sometimes that just makes me feel worse. But that path...it leads to where the sun is shining. You can see that.
My sister-in-law couldn't find a matching pair of shoes for the walk and was forced to go as is. I can't help laughing when I see this. And the funniest part is that the shoes somehow make her jeans look terrible. Like mom jeans of the worst kind (no offense, moms). Like if you could see, there'd surely be pleats at the waist line. Maybe even an elasticized waist, if we're lucky.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I was at my parents' house the other day, feeling sad. Just laying in my old bedroom, wondering where the good had gone. And suddenly, well, some good came in and jumped right into bed with me.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
But what about the experiences that would teach any sane person to be anxious?Sometimes it's hard to know what to do with it, and it feels crazy to not feel anxious. But then there's God and he messes up the equation and the sense life makes, I suppose. He talks about peace and it doesn't depend on everything being controllable or even appeasing to us; but rather it's dependent on Him. Existing. In the midst of everything. It doesn't make any sense, it really doesn't.
It just wells up so big, drowning out every other feeling until all I want is to escape. But it's inside me so deep that I'd just as easily escape from my left lung or my brain; in short: it's seemingly and intricately woven into me. So what do I do? Other than try to fix the problem, which usually just results in a bigger mess because what human can be fixed by her own clumsy self? So I give it to God and in his mercy I forget about it for a little bit. I get lost in a song I am writing. Or a conversation with a friend. Or the show I am doing. Or the way my hip hurts when I lay on my left side. Or the pain of someone else I love. Or the innocence of the morning, how nothing has changed the day yet; nothing has let on to the fact that the sky which looks so friendly now could turn in a second and suddenly you find yourself dripping, drenched in a rain you never prepared for.
And then maybe the next time I think about it, the pain is not so fresh. Or maybe it is and then I try to give it to Him once again, all the while not quite even sure how you even know if it has truly been given to God. It's not exactly tangible. It's not exactly measurable. It's not like I have three eggs in my basket and I can hold each of them in my hand, feeling the weight and the shape, and then hand them off to Him three times over, happily looking down in my basket after the last transaction and seeing they are gone.
That my basket is empty, that I am finally weightless.
Friday, November 20, 2009
he uproots my hope like a tree.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
It's weird, I sort of already forgot about this. I mean, I know I haven't really. And I know it happened and all that, but I've barely given it any thought at all. Not until I looked at this picture, actually. And how strange it is to not be going back to some city sometime soon, for a soundcheck at four and the hope of a Whole Foods that is within a walkable distance.
Walking in a bamboo forrest that dwarfed me.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Remember when I said that I wasn't feeling a thing?
They are just faces, black and white features on cardboard, but to me, they are so much more. The kind of bond you create with people you've lived, worked, laughed, and literally been with for over a year and a half is staggering. It gets to be a part of you without even realizing it and suddenly you leave and you wonder at the bereft feeling that is left; you feel the ghost pains, so to speak, of the missing part and you might as well get used to it, I guess. It's gonna hurt for a while. But it's a good hurt.
It's pretty heavy and you can pop yourself in the forehead pretty badly if you're not careful. But after you do it once, you learn to be careful. Believe me. I don't think I've done that since opening in Denver last April, actually.
At my station. Which no, is not the neatest on the block, but neatness has never won anyone a Tony or a Grammy or even an Emmy, for that matter.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Took me over a year and a half, but I finally bought a sweatshirt.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Every once in a while there comes along a truly great typo that just makes life better. Maybe it's an extra letter here, a misspelled word there, but whatever the case, when a zinger makes an appearance, I appreciate it.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Boxes. Parcels. Packages.
Actually, I was rushing to finish boxing up my trunk during the Paul and Cassie scenes tonight. So there I was in my leotard and fishnets, knee deep in packaging supplies. And after getting all my stuff into five boxes, I was faced with the monumental task of carrying them to the company manager office, all the way on the other side of the theater. And then there was the added hassle of my rib and how I am not really supposed to be lifting much.
And so I rolled my boxes from one side of the theater to the next, making more than a few people laugh at me along the way.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
There is a piano at this hotel.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
I just found a strong spot of internet--three whole bars!--in the hallway, so I sat myself down and got to it. Around here you never know when the ichat window is just gonna roll right up and away and you are suddenly disconnected from the world wide web in less time than it takes to press save now.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sometimes life is hard.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
It's amazing how you feel when you come down from the mountains.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Lately sleep has been somewhat of a white rabbit for me. And I'm tired of chasing it. Heck, I'm even tired of laying down in a bed, waiting for that stupid little rabbit to stop it's incessant running.