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.
Monday, November 30, 2009
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.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
So we had to wade through two whole shows today in order to put on the costumes that we had really been anticipating.
- Gilligan (tragically drowned, trying to swim his way off that island).
- Marianne (eventually succumbed to starvation; I guess the professor used the last coconut to fashion one of his famous radios that unbelievably worked but couldn't actually aid them in getting off the island).
- Ginger, the movie star (substance abuse, folks.).
- Mr. Howell (...eaten by a zombie and then became a zombie...and yikes).
- Mrs. Howell (eaten alive by spiders).
- The Professor (blown up by one of his own science experiments gone awry).
- Skipper (not shown because we ate him--and this was before Marianne starved to death, of course).