Easy As Life

I had totally forgotten about this blog...

2011-09-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

Until right now! So I decided to come back and look at it, and since I created it specifically for my 101 in 1001, I decided to check out what I had accomplished in a YEAR. A YEAR has gone by since I thought about this blog.

Good lord.

The good news is, I have actually accomplished a number of things that I had on my list. Here they are:

#7- Eat 3 servings of fruit each week for a month.

This goal was set pretty low, since 3 servings of fruit A WEEK is ridiculous. But I hated fruit and never ate it. Now, I don't hate it, I like it. And I eat it way more often. Sweet.

#10 Eat breakfast every day for 2 weeks.

I now actually eat breakfast every day. Period.

#12- Reach 140 lbs and stay there for the rest of the challenge!

I MADE IT! This one I'm hugely excited about. It just happened a few weeks ago, and I've been maintaining it quite well. I'm thrilled. I haven't seen this weight since the beginning of college. It's funny how when you stop worrying about something so much, it happens.

#19- Put effort into my appearance every day for a week.

It takes staying with my boyfriend, but it can happen. :)

#23- Create a monthly budget and stick with it.

In the month of July, I created a budget. I stuck to it. I felt proud!

#46- relearn and understand anatomy.

I accomplished this as I accomplished a new goal- become a Certified Personal Trainer! I am now a NASM CPT. I am very proud of myself, and glad I stuck with it!

#58- Find someone to speak spanish with, and talk to them for at least 15 minutes once a month, for 6 months.

Our landscaper, Annibal, needed help explaining things to my parents about how he was renovating our basement, so I helped.

#83- Sexy Thing #3 (wet)

It happened. I liked it.

#87- be on time to every destination in a day for 1 week.

Now, naturally, I am on time everywhere, but it was challenging for me at first. I did it, I still do it, and I'm better off because of it.

#96- spend an entire day being an optimist.

I'm slowly leaning towards optimism. Maybe I mean happiness. I'm nice to people for no reason now. I'm cheerful in the mornings. And I'm enjoying this lovely powder that I..no just kidding. It's all real. It's a strange transformation, but I'm okay with it.

There are a large number of goals on this list that now are irrelevant, can not be accomplished, or I'm no longer interested in them. That's okay. I'm pretty okay with them, but for the sake of my list, I will list them now.

#2- study for the GRE.

The school I'm applying to doesn't require it. Obsolete.

#5- improve my sightreading by practicing.

It is important to practice, but you learn by doing. Obsolete.

#15- Do 30-day Shred every day for a full 30 days.

It was an attempt to increase my fitness level. I have done so in a variety of other ways, but most of them have had nothing to do with Jillian Michaels. Obsolete.

#26- put money in my savings account for every goal accomplished on this list.

This was just an attempt to get me to start saving money. I've got the hang of it now. Accomplished, but not as it was written.

#27- put money in to my Roth IRA every month for the challenge.

Obsolete. I no longer have a Roth IRA, I have something else!

#28- create a penny jar.

Again, attempts at saving. Done, but not with pennies.

#89- put 1000 pictures of myself on Facebook.

Merely an attempt to take more pictures. My opinion of FB has changed, and I'm concerned about privacy, so while I do want to take photos, I don't know that I want them all to be on Facebook. Obsolete.

There are a number of things I am still working on. Such as:

#1. Get accepted to grad school and go.

I'm applying.

#6. Drink 24oz of water a day for a year.

I'm increasing my water intake. I haven't reached a full 365 days yet, and I probably won't by the end of the challenge, but it's an improvement.

#9. Take an entire bottle of vitamins.

Working on it. It's now a spray, and it's folic acid, but I'm doing it.

#13. Run a half marathon.

I'm training now, and I will run it on November 19, 2011.

#14. Stretch every day.

I'm not done with the challenge yet, so I can't have finished. But I'm working on it.

#16- touch my nose to my knees.

Almost there!

#17- become a certified Pilates teacher.

I just have to take the test!

#20-Pay off all my credit cards.

I'm super close! I won't be able to do it by the end of the challenge, but I am very, very on my way.

#24- increase my credit score.

Again, work in progress.

#25- Pay off half my student loans.

I'm paying them!

#41- Read the 100 books on the BBC book list.

I never stop reading.

#42- Read the entire works of Shakespeare.

Same as #41.

#55- Knit a throw blanket.

If you change the word "knit" to "crochet", then it will be finished soon!

#86- write in my planner every day.

It's happening.

So much stuff in the works! But glad to see that I'm on the right track.

Crossing Numbers Off the List!

2010-08-31T10:37:00.000-07:00

I have done a lot of things this summer! Since I left Actors Theatre of Louisville, I have accomplished a TON of my goals in my 101 in 1001. I am at work, at my new job (also in my field) and so I don't have time to go into intense detail about what I did, or how much fun I had. I'll save the individual blog postings on each item for a later date. But I WILL post a list, in order, of how many things I have done.

#18. Look amazing naked. --- Check! (more about this later, and about my perceptions of amazing)
#35. Visit my relatives in Colorado. ---Check! I visited on Wednesday, August 11th with my really wonderful boyfriend, and had the best time!
#36. Visit my grandfather's grave. ---Check! Also on Wednesday, Aug. 11.
#40. Go to a vineyard and have a wine tasting. ---Check! Done in Portland, OR with my really wonderful boyfriend, when I was visiting him in June.
#84. Get professional photos taken of me naked, and put them in my house. ---Check! On Sunday Aug. 8th in NYC I had a photo shoot. Also more about this later.
#85. Sunbathe in the buff. ---Check! Done in preparation of my photo shoot.

#91. Go to an away NU football game. ---work in progress. I actually had tickets to do this in OCTOBER of last year!! But then my best friend couldn't come, and the person I was staying with became ill, so it was postponed. But I'm working on it. It will happen at either the Penn State/NU game this year in Happy Valley, with the DC NU Alumni Club, OR in Chicago at Wrigley Field. NUvsIllinois. It's not on the NU field, and therefore, it's away. Right?????

Looking at this, I feel so incredibly triumphant! I've been crossing off items left and right! What's even better is that most of them I didn't realize I had done until I looked at my list. That tells me two things. The first is that I don't write often enough. LOL That's not good. The second thing it tells me is that I still want a lot of the same things. I think that's a good thing, that this list isn't whimsical. It's something real, a list of actual things that matter to me, that I want to accomplish in my life. But really it tells me three things, sorry. The most important thing this tells me is that this summer has been incredibly productive. I have accomplished a whole host of things that are important to me. I have had FUN this summer! I have absolutely enjoyed myself. I have worked hard, and played hard, and made the most out of my 23 year old summer. You have to do it while you're young, right? Now is the best time to get out and do all of the things you have always wanted to do. Do them NOW! Do it before you get busy, before you forget, before you decide that your money is better spent on someone or something other than making yourself happy and living your life like it's your own.

You only get one lifetime, people. Live it up!

101 in 1001 - Revisited

2010-04-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

So it's been very nearly a year since I created my 101 in 1001. I look back at that list, and I look back at who I was then, and I see a lot of changes.

I see there are items on my list that I'll probably never complete. I'm okay with that. The fact that they're on my list means that I'm thinking about them, that they're in the back of my mind, that they're things that concern me that I'd like to be better at. Will I wear sunscreen every single day for a whole summer? I hope so. Might I miss a day? Sure, probably. But that isn't the point, really. The point is that I'm consciously attempting to be better about it, to make a permanent life change and become the kind of person who remembers to wear sunscreen, maybe not every day, but 9 times out of 10. The same thing goes for writing in my planner. Will I remember to write in it every single day for an entire 365 days? I hope so, but I won't be heart broken if I miss a day. Life will go on.

As I look back, I notice that I've only actually completed 10.5 goals out of 101. (Although I suppose I'm a tenth of the way there. Maybe that counts for something.) I wonder how disappointed I'll be at the end of it, when I see how many I've completed vs. how many things I wanted to do. It's an important exercise- having goals. It's important to take note of the things you want to achieve in your life, and to write them down someplace meaningful where you can't forget it. It's important to go for what you want in your life, so that when you die at age 92 you can say you did all, or almost all, of the things you meant to do.

Lots of my goals are geared towards being more cultured, or more concerned with the welfare of others, or towards taking care of myself. I like that. As I look back, I see that some of them aren't actually doable (most likely) and some of them might be a little bit silly, but they're all about helping me to become the woman I'd like to be.

So here's to a year. I've nearly made it. I've changed, I've grown, and I'm still trying.

#62 Halfway There

2010-04-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

#62- Go to the theater and see 10 straight plays and 15 musicals.

It's official. Thanks to Actors Theatre of Louisville, I have seen 10 straight plays. In fact, I've seen more than that! Here's the list:
Full Length Plays:
Lookingglass Alice
Dracula
A Midsummer Night's Dream
A Christmas Story
A Christmas Carol
Crime and Punishment
Ella
Sirens
Phoenix
Ground
Heist!
The Method Gun
The Cherry Sisters Revisited
Fissures (Lost and Found)

And the Tens:
The Apprentice Tens (a whole evening of ten minute plays)
Make It Work (another whole evening of ten minute plays)
Let Bygones Be
Lobster Boy
Post Wave Spectacular
Cop Show Parody

This goal of mine is now halfway complete. Really, it should be two different numbers since they're two different goals. But either way- I'm getting there, and feeling cultured. Sweet.

#77- Birthday Fun!

2010-04-05T13:46:00.001-07:00

Crossing off another item off my list. Celebrate my birthday. Tell people about it and enjoy myself.

This weekend was the first time in a long time I really, absolutely loved my birthday. In fact, I loved every minute of it. I had an awesome time! I left my birth date on facebook, I didn't try to hide it or avoid it, I accepted birthday wishes with grace, and was determined to enjoy myself. Progress has been made.
(I'm aware this photo means nothing to most people. I'm okay with that.)

Found Poem about the Haiti Earthquake

2010-03-19T11:59:00.000-07:00

This was a project I completed in my office. This is called a Found Poem, where there is no original text used. Instead, you find words (at least twenty) or phrases from an outside source, in my case a news article, and you rearrange the words to create poetry.

Found Poem. The Story of the Haiti Earthquake.
Haiti Earthquake: survivors still emerging from wreckage six days after disaster.

Hope continues;
more people recovered alive fruit, signs, ruins;
appealing for help. prayed. Prayed. PRAYED.
Fruit of our labour. Mental strength,
What do you prefer? Successful?

Hope continues;
good feeling, simply a miracle, feeling, good.
Miracle.
Simply.
Successful? Pulled out soon? Pulled out soon. Pulled out. Soon.
Pleaded. Appealing for help. Frustration.
Trapped.
Prayed.

Search dogs abandon signs of life searching, searching for their nationals only.
Forced them to leave, eventually, eventually,
Eventually rescuers were winding down.
Search dogs abandon signs of life searching, searching for their nationals only.
Eventually.
Forced them to leave, eventually. Soon? eventually. eventually.
She dies or you die? She dies or you die.
You die.
Abandon. She dies. More people. You die.

Ravaged, ruins, wreckage, trapped.
Text messages. UN. Seven nuns. Teenage girl. Spanish woman. rescuers. doctor. German.
Steel door- Trapped- Pleaded- Trapped- Steel door…
Rescue efforts will continue; rescuers were winding down.
elizabeth, maria, ariel, lamy, joseph, marie-france, daniel, francisco, dane, ban, nieves, anthony. trapped. Trapped.

What do you prefer? She dies, or you die?
Prayed.
More people. recovered alive.
Pray- Ed
“it is simply a miracle.”
Hope continues.

Chocolate Milk

2010-03-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

This is a piece I wrote in college as an assignment for a storytelling class, and then I reworked it later to make it the opening to a book I once thought I'd write. I'm not sure I still need to write the book, I liked the opening and thought I'd post.
_____________________________________________________________
Who am I? Where to begin? In assignments such as these, the most difficult part is to decide where to start. Does one start at the very beginning, from infancy, and tell the story in order? Or maybe should one start at the end? Would that make sense? Would you then know who I am? If I tell you that my middle name is Lynn, and that my mother usually calls me that, unless she is very angry and then she tacks on my first name, would you know anything about me? What if I add that I am 5’6 with curly brown hair, and brown eyes the color of a dark chocolate truffle. Does that help? Is a picture beginning to form? Since we are getting a visual, I might as well also tell you that I have light brown skin, maybe the color of chocolate milk when you stir it and realize you didn’t put as much chocolate in it as you would have liked, but maybe it’s too much trouble to add a bit more, so you drink it anyway.

Why don’t we stay with this glass of chocolate milk. Sometimes I feel as if I live in a very clear tall glass, and everyone thinks they can see inside, although it’s distorted, since maybe there is a pattern or a frosted design on the outside of the glass, and the only one who can really see what’s in there is God, but since he is looking from the top, my life still doesn’t look the same as it does to me. And sometimes I feel like I am living in a short, white coffee mug that has a dollop of whipped cream on the top, hiding me from the whole world, even God. My life seems to change glasses a lot. I think I like the coffee mug the best, especially if it said something funny on the outside to make people laugh. I like to make people laugh. I am not funny in the way a comedian is funny; I am not one of those people who makes you laugh and laugh for hours no matter what they say. But I do like to make people laugh. I also like to make people smile, to get that warm fuzzy feeling inside. I wish I could bring joy to the whole world. Mostly I think I do a pretty good job. I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate milk? There are those people who tell me they are lactose intolerant, or that they actually don’t like chocolate, but I pretend they aren’t there, and offer someone else a drink.

I am going to tell you about me. This isn’t a story, since mine wouldn’t fit on two pages. This isn’t in any kind of order, since starting at the beginning is boring, and I won’t pretend I know all the details. So here is my life, at least bits and pieces of it, the things that matter the most to me at this very instant that I am writing.

I am twenty. Age matters a great deal to people who are young. Most days it doesn’t matter to me, but it seems to matter so much to everyone else, so I let them have their fun. People are always goggling at me and trying to understand me in relation to my age. I don’t have the heart to tell them that wondering at it won’t get them anywhere, since they will forget how old I am the moment I open my mouth, and really they will forget until my next birthday, or until there is another occasion in which someone decides it matters. I am a music and theatre student at school. That matters a lot to me, but it seems to become so much less important when I think that I am almost not a student anymore. That really matters. I am afraid to leave my little Northwestern world and go see what life holds. Maybe it’s because I think I won’t be successful. Maybe it’s because I think I will be successful, and that too is scary.

Today I am feeling half full. I have offered a drink to many, they have enjoyed, and moved on. I used to feel half empty. I suffered from clinical depression, which is of course the same thing as regular depression, except that when you give it a special name, lots of people pretend they understand you and feel for you when they wouldn’t otherwise. I used to be sick. But now I am better. I still feel the effects of this sickness, and some days I wish I could go back to being sick, because I didn’t understand what it was doing to the rest of my life. But, I see that away from my sickness, mostly, life is good. Occasionally things suck, but mostly, I am happy. Right now I am yearning for someone to tell me that they too would like a drink, except that they would stay with me for a long time, enjoying slow sips or big gulps, and then they would refill me when I am empty. In turn I would quench their thirst, offer a warm comfort on a cold night, or a nice refreshing, ice cold glass. I would like to make someone happy, especially if that person also made me happy too. I’m that kind of person. I like to work in pairs. I mean, what good is a glass of milk if there is no one to drink it?

I have not always been so willing to offer what is inside the cup. When I was younger than I am now, I was greedy, keeping my beverage from everyone. I never wanted anyone to experience the inside of my glass. I was happy leaving it to God to look down, and see all the chocolate swirling at the bottom. I was settled, and didn’t want to be stirred or shaken, for fear that I would spill. I was afraid that I would never be able to reclaim the liquid on the floor. I was afraid I could never get full again.

My family could probably be described in terms of beverages as well. I have two parents, and see how lucky I am for it. I also have a third parent somewhere in the world, but he doesn’t interest me much. For me, all I need are my Mom, who is probably a pitcher of beer, and my Dad, a tiny cup of hot tea, a liquid you can barely touch without being burned. My Mom, on the other hand, is intoxicating and fun, except for the times when you overindulge and then she can cause pain. But only for a short while. Once, I would have said that her nature was changeable, but now I realize that she is only herself. She can’t help what she is. It is up to others to be responsible for/with her, for she can not choose for herself.

Maybe the only other thing that is important to me right now is finding new ways to clear the glass. For the sake of my profession, I need to be poured into a glass that is totally clear. I am getting in the way of myself. I like the nice coffee mug. It is homey, with just the right amount of space. I am afraid that once I get into a new glass, I might not like it. And with a clear glass, I can not make it frosted again. There are some things that are irreversible. I think this is one of those things. But I am trying. I am also trying not to worry about the people who aren’t open to the enjoyable flavor a good glass of chocolate milk can bring. Sometimes they can bring me down, making me feel half empty. But I am learning that there are many people, perhaps not the whole world, but many who see the benefits of quenching their thirst, and allowing me to ease their pain, if only for a few moments. And I know that I will never be empty or alone, because there is always someone who will take the time to refill the glass, or ask for more.

I was in college when I wrote that. I was almost carefree, almost naive. I almost believed that life was looking up, that it was going to get better from that day forward. I had hope when I wrote that. Which isn’t to say that I don’t have any now. But hope changes, you know? Hope changes along with the people that possess it.

#61 Complete!

2010-03-09T09:39:00.001-08:00

Crossing off #61- go to the ballet twice.

Done and done! Actually, I'm an overachiever and went three times! I saw Don Quixote, which was absolutely brilliant, in either September or October. Then I saw the most moving piece by the Bill T. Jones dance company called Fondly Do We Hope, Fervently Do We Pray. It was about Abraham Lincoln, and it was absolutely brilliant. Most recently, I saw The Brown-Forman Nutcracker, again at the Louisville Ballet. It was delightful, although kind of confusing. I still don't understand why there were jockeys....I mean this is Kentucky but still. I don't think horse racing has anything to do with young girls who go through enchanted lands with handsome nutcrackers-come-to-life. But whatever. The point is, I can cross another goal off my list and I am delighted! I know I'm going kind of slowly, and considering that in January we'll be in 2011, I need to get a move on but I'm okay, actually. Even if I only accomplish half the goals on my list, I'll be delighted.

What a great way to get some life goals accomplished. Even if they are little things, like being a bit more cultured. :)

25 Random Things

2010-03-02T18:38:00.001-08:00

25 Random things about Rebecca:

1. I secretly LOVE HGTV. I think it's so cool to watch people make something out of nothing.

2. I hated high school. I thought everyone was secretly judging me about what I did and didn't do. I so desperately wanted to be "cool" and couldn't figure out exactly how to get there. I was so lonely and miserable, and didn't find out until later that everyone I knew thought I was perfectly normal. Some people even thought I was popular! LOL

3. I am too honest, almost all the time. I have a hard time understanding when it isn't appropriate to be truthful with someone, because I personally feel that honesty is the MOST IMPORTANT quality to possess.

4. Sometimes I love people and things so much that it hurts my heart/soul. Like people with mental and physical disabilities. They are the most beautiful, amazing people in the world. But they make my heart hurt. So I can't do things like volunteer work, because I would just cry all day. But not out of pity. Out of admiration.

5. I hate clubbing. It just seems like so much work to hang out with people when you could do the same thing in your house, and have just as much fun.

6. I wish I could be a college student forever. Learning is SO SEXY. Especially reading. Literacy. It's so hot right now.

7. I got sucked into the musical theater scene in college because I loved feeling confident that I was good at something. I never stopped to think if it was actually what I wanted to do with my life.

8. I want to write two books. I'm kind of scared that I'll never write them. I think the assumption that you're words need to be on the shelves along with Oscar Wilde and William Shakespeare is incredibly arrogant.

9. I feel like I'm one of the only women in the world not afraid to talk to guys. Especially in the early stages of a flirtation/relationship. What is there to lose?

10. I love the idea of being in love. But being romantic is overrated, so I've placed a layer of intense cynicism and slight bitterness on top of it.

11. I'll talk to anyone. Anywhere. I made two friends at the gym on Sunday. it was great! Unless, of course, the person I'm talking to is hitting on me. Then I won't talk to them at all.

12. I love exercising! I feel so strong and capable after a good workout.

13. Sweatpants are my favorite item of clothing. I would wear them everywhere if it were socially acceptable.

14. My sense of humor is so dry that most of the time people just think I'm being a jerk. And of course, I think that's funny.

15. I love it when you're in an awkward situation, but you choose not to be awkward and the other person is SO uncomfortable. Most people don't realize that being awkward is a choice.

16. I love writing letters. There's something really quaint about it. And who doesn't love to get personal mail?

17. There are so many people I know that I wish I spent more time with, because I think they are just the coolest people EVER. But I don't tell them that because I don't want them to think I'm a stalker. Some of them are tagged in this note- so if you think this is a random tag, I'm probably trying to tell you something... lol

18. I am a paragon of useless information. I know so many random and useless facts. Like the fact that all polar bears are left-handed.

19. My memory is completely absurd. I can remember songs, or quotes from movies, after only hearing/seeing them once. I remember what customers order in a restaurant 3 days after the person came in, and I can recall things that people said to me 3 years ago. But I don't remember most of my childhood, and I'm terrible with names. Go figure.

20. My mom used to lose me in the store. I would hear the music playing over the speakers, and then I would go find a speaker and "shop" under it so I could sing along.

21. I'm horrible at keeping in touch with people. I love them and I miss them and think of them, but somehow that doesn't translate into a phone call. I think I'm afraid to find out that they weren't thinking of me back.

22. I have really horrible credit. I'm afraid of the day when I need to buy a house.

23. I never eat fruit. I just don't enjoy it enough to go out of my way to eat it.

24. I'm really insecure about my body in front of a mirror, but not to anyone else. I could care less if someone saw me naked. But if I see me naked, I run away.

25. I want to be rich and famous so I can give my money to people in need. It's so incredible knowing for certain that you made a difference in someone's life.

PS- There are so many more random things about myself I could keep going for another 25. And I guess that would be fact #26. ;)

Monologue from Freedom of Speechless

2010-03-02T18:22:00.000-08:00

A monologue from a ten-minute play I wrote called Freedom of Speechless.

Setting: BWI Airport containment cell
time: Now

bold indicates emphasis
(italics and parenthesis indicate stage directions)

Cliff
It was a joke. I was kidding. Really. And it’s not like I said the word bomb. I didn’t say it. I didn’t even use it colloquially. You know, like “she’s the bomb.” Or “dude 'dat shit was 'da bomb.” I didn’t even say that. Mainly because honestly, no one should say that anymore. It’s embarrassing. I mean, maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m white. No really. White. SO white. A person like me has absolutely no business saying “da bomb.” Which is how I know I didn’t say it. Or anything remotely like it. What I did say was “I wish they would hurry up because this line is taking forever.” (beat) “Annndd...maybe I mentioned that the guy ahead of us, the one that you stopped, was being profiled.” (beat) “Ok so I also, sort of said that you guys were arrogant pricks.” (defiant) I mean honestly, did you guys actually think THAT guy was gonna take down the plane? (beat) Ok. I admit it. I said the TSA was full of arrogant pricks. You caught me. And I’m sorry. But see, sir, Mr...(reading name tag) Brumelvitch...wait really? Brumelvitch? Is that how you say it? Brumelvitch? Nevermind. You see Mr. Brumelvitch, sir, I have a perfectly good explanation. See, we were running late. We were worried that we were gonna miss our flight. We’re taking a vacation. To Jamaica. My wife and I, that is. I mean, it’s not the honeymoon or anything- we didn’t go on one since we had one of those destination weddings. St. Thomas. (shakes head) I know, right! Super romantic. Beach wedding and all that. So anyway, we’re running late and we’re trying to make our flight. To Jamaica. (in bad accent) De islands, mon. (chuckles) So the line was taking forever and we were hoping there wouldn’t be much of a line, I mean c’mon it’s BWI, not LAX or something. And we have a connecting flight. So we really need to get on the plane. (beat) You understand, don’t you? It was taking forever and I was frustrated, so I may have lost my temper and said something I regret. So you see, Mr. Brumelvitch, I didn’t mean it, really. You’re not an arrogant prick. I see that now. You’re a nice guy. Really. I apologize. Can you please let us go? Please?

**neither this monologue nor the full length ten minute play represent the playwright's current feelings, thoughts, or opinions about the USA, BWI airport, AirJamaica, and/or airport security.

American in Paris Monologue

2010-03-02T18:04:00.001-08:00

As a committed theatre-maker and teacher of young playwrights, I've decided to commit to writing short pieces to expand my creative thinking and have examples to show my students. Here is a monologue written about a life experience that my boss, Steven Rahe, had. I have altered some facts to create a monologue about a different character of my own invention.

An American In Paris
Time: now
@ the hospital

bold indicates emphasis
(italics and parenthesis indicate stage directions)

(holding stomach) Ugh...Am I dying? I feel like I'm dying...ugh. (whines) My stomach hurts! Uuggghhh. If this is dying, I'd rather just get it over with. And the worst part is, I wasn't doing anything illegal! Parisian McDonalds. They oughta make that illegal. (self-pitying) This was supposed to be the best day of my whole trip! See, my friends and I decided to come to Paris for a day to be touristy and see all the sights. We were going crazy- we started super early in the morning, and were walking everywhere. I mean, we only have one day, ya know. So we decide to stop for a quick lunch, and I thought it would be a good idea to go over to McDonalds. Why? Why did I do that? I could eaten authentic French cuisine, like...baguettes. And...croissants. Instead I got french fries. They aren't even French! I'm such an idiot! So we get back on the tour bus, and we're having a great time, but my stomach starts feeling weird. Jumpy. (beat) Nauseous. My friends wanted to take all of these pictures; I'm holding my stomach in every single one! (beat) I bet I look awful. So much for happy memories. So it's getting worse and worse and finally I just leave. I mean, I had to do something, right? I didn't want to be remembered forever as that gross American tourist that threw up all over the Mona Lisa. Or the Eiffel Tower! So I jumped in a cab and paid a gazillion euros to get here. Thank God for free health care. Ugh...so tell it to me straight, doc. Am I dying? If I die, please don't tell my Mom I was eating McDonalds. Tell her I died of something tragic, and the epitome of all things French. What're my friends gonna do without me? And all they'll have to remember me by are those terrible pictures! Hey, how do you say "death by fillet-o-fish" in French?

Norman Rockwell Monologue

2010-02-19T17:07:00.001-08:00

Another monologue, but this one was inspired by a random photo or painting that has multiple characters.

The Assignment- Choose one of the characters in this picture. Write a monologue. Decide who they are, where are they, when are they. Figure out their name, what they're doing, maybe how they feel about being where they are. Write a monologue from their perspective.

The painting I chose is above.

Norman Rockwell Monologue: Boy in Doctor's Office
Name: Simon
Age: 10
in Peoria, IL, in 1956. Dad works for Ford, Mom stays home. It's August. School is about to start.

(bolded words indicate emphasis)
(stage directions in parenthesis and italics)

Simon: Woah. This picture is weird! It's not a picture at all, just a bunch of dumb letters. (sounding it out) Yaa-lluuhh--eee. Yay-lleee. Huh. That's a dumb name. I bet it's dumb, a dumb place, when it's got a name like that. My friend Johnson says he's gonna be a scientist when he grows up but his dad says you half'ta be in school forever, until you're super old. Like.....30! Woah. I bet Johnson an' I'll be friends when we're 30. But he'd half'ta move far away to go to scientist school. I don't want him to move. I bet scientist school isn't fun anyway. I hate school. I 'specially hate math. Summer's almost over and then I gotta go back. Dumb. I don't wanna go back, I just wanna play in the fields out back with Johnson and Mickey and Chuck, and go to the creek and catch frogs and lizards, and chase my dog Snuffles. My sister'll half'ta ride the same bus as me this year, and then I'll half'ta tell people we're related. Bummer. I don't wanna hang around with my annoying sister anyhow. She didn't half'ta go to the doctor today, she got to go to work with my Dad and hang around the cars and stuff. (envious) I wish I coulda done that, stead-a goin to the doctor to get a stupid shot. I told him not to touch me with that thing (indicates to syringe on counter) so when he came near me with the needle, I yelled real loud. Mom came in; she was mad. But after the shot I got a piece of candy, which was sorta ok, I guess. I sure hope Mom doesn't tell Susie that I hollered, otherwise Susie'll tell Johnson and Mickey and Chuck and they'll laugh at me for sure. Humph. She's just mad cuz I put that snake on her pillow last week. But she deserved it for telling Mom I broke the lamp! Yaa-lee. Huh. This is some dumb picture. (to doctor) Hey mister! Am I done yet?

Object Monologue

2010-02-19T16:55:00.000-08:00

So I am a teaching artist for Actors Theatre of Louisville, and we teach a 9 session playwriting residency in schools all over Kentuckiana. Well I'm about to start teaching my first residency and the number one rule is (well maybe not the number one...but a good one) that you can't teach curriculum that you've never done yourself. So this evening I decided to go through the curriculum and write a ten minute play. Well in one session, you write monologues. I liked the monologue I wrote and decided to post it here. Hope you (whoever you are that reads this) like it.

Assignment- write a monologue from the point of view of a random object. I taught Monologue vs. Dialogue, which is a shorter but similar residency and for my students, I provided a book jacket, a Wii remote and wheel combo, and an unadorned fan. I figured if they have to do it, I do too.

Object Monologue: Wii Remote/Wheel Combo
You know, relationships are hard. Well, partnerships. Teamwork. Yea, that's what I'd call it. What we'd call it. I mean, we have to agree on everything. It just doesn't work otherwise. We can't get anything done when we disagree. And neither can anyone else. We're all stuck. Now I'll admit, it's kinda nice the times I get to be alone, to operate solo, as my own unit. I like being complete, just myself. And sometimes it's enough, and you feel like you're enough, you don't need help. You're good enough as is. Complete. I'll get started, and BAM! You're off to the races, or surfing, or dodging molten hot lava and collecting gold coins, or whatever. You get my drift. And I'm thinking, "Yea, man! This is great!" It's just me (and some other person) making it happen. I'm calling the shots. On my own. Yea. But then you click in, you engage and there's no going back. You gotta do everything together, as one. Lemmi tell you, it gets a bit soul sucking after a while. You start to forget who you are, or used to be. Or could be...that's it! You forget who you could be, if you were alone. It's hard, sometimes, for a control freak like me. There are times when I think it'd be easier to just give up the partnership, or relationship, or whatever. I mean, it's not that I'm not into her... She just can't function on her own, ya know? She needs me all the time. And sometimes it's a drag. But I can't help but be into her, ya know? I mean, I'm SO into her! It's like we were made for each other. But it gets hard. Relationships are hard. Partnerships. Teamwork. Like I said. I mean, yea. Like we said.

Stream-of-Conscious writing #6

2010-02-07T14:21:00.000-08:00

Topic: All That Jazz

It's a song from the Broadway hit Chicago. But also a throw away phrase. "You know, all that jazz." I'm working on writing, performing, you know, all that jazz." It becomes the unnamed myriad of junk you've added on your plate that you don't really have time for. It's extra, slightly unncessary- a laundry list of things. It's the stuff that usually gets left to the wayside, the shit you forget about because you're busy with real life. But you start to wonder- what kinds of items are in the list? What things do you put on the "jazz" list that never get taken off again. Laundry, writing that book you dreamed of, taking that vacation, flying to China, going back to school, opening your own restaurant. These are the pipe dreams, the things you'd do with more money and extra time. Usually it gets full and cramped, so you delete some items all together. And the really good ones, the secret hopes and desires that actually matter to you are stuffed away until retirement when you finally dust them off and realize you're too old to do them anyhow. Don't those dreams matter? Wouldn't you want to list them with all of your other priorities? Can we maybe delete the jazz list and consolidate? Because if you "prioritize" your goals, you leave some out. Life is short. I say you don't have time for priorities. Do it all, make some music.

Stream-of-Conscious writing #5

2010-02-07T12:31:00.000-08:00

Topic: unknown

The smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd. The roar of the crowd, the roar of a lion. Your feelings roar inside your head, crowding your thoughts. Who is the crowd? Who is in there? Can you identify any of the people? Nameless faces you think you see, far in the distance, picking one out is harder than finding Carmen Sandiego, more difficult than finding Waldo. Where the fuck is that guy? And even if you were able to identify one, how do you know them? Where did you meet? Can you reach them? Initiate conversation? Probably not. Because they aren't individuals. They're just a part of a larger whole. They're a fraction, a decimal, .001. They don't have their own ideas, they think and operate as one. The Crowd. The audience. The masses. The people. Mob mentality rules them. How do you fight the mob? How do you keep from getting sucked into the group, how do you avoid the fray, the mileu? And even if you did give in to all the shouting, screaming voices in your head, all crying the same thing at different times, different volumes, would you be safe?

Is this home, you ask yourself. Is this where you're supposed to be and what you're supposed to think? It's so much easier to go with the flow, to join the tableaux and carve out a place for yourself in the millions of others doing exactly the same thing. Nevermind that no one will recognize you, that anyone who gazes upon the crowd will see no one and nothing and they'll ask the same questions you once yourself voiced; when you had a voice and could hear yourself think above the din of restless consent. It doesn't matter anymore, nothing matters, opposition is impossible, it's like the Matrix, you can't fight it and you get sucked in the cool dark of a life pre-determined to mediocracy. But what if you dared to stand alone? What if you managed to face the crowd and forget about the cult of modern ideals and normalcy, and dared to be different? You wouldn't have the verizon crowd of people backing you up, and your network of true individuals might at any time disapparate leaving you alone, but maybe it'd be worth it. Maybe. Maybe you'd get noticed, maybe you could create an island of individuality and free thinking, a tiny oasis if you could call home. And surely the tiny, tropical paradise with it's cool breeze and vast ocean is better than the cool, stale dark that was advertized in the crowded office kitchen, on the bulletin board next to the bullshit 401K that offers vurtually no retirement security. Isn't that what everyone else says? Every other "individual" that walks around in black eyeliner and steel-toed boots expressing themselves freely tells themselves they are beating the system, sidestepping the man, and steering clear of the giant, soul-sucking devil that is modern society. Except that they're freaks, right? I'll be different. I'll be original and I'll go beyond the middle-of-the-road life and leap over the cliched wannabees and land right in the middle of...

the middle of....

the middle of what?

where the fuck am I gonna end up?

Probably right here. Where I'm standing.

Stream-of-Conscious writing #4

2010-02-07T08:34:00.000-08:00

Stream-of-conscious writing is one of my favorite things to do. I really enjoy sitting down with a pen in my hand and writing whatever comes to mind. Here is one I wrote a while back, forgot about, and found again.

The Topic: Pairs

All good things come in twos. Peas in a pod. Yin and yang. White and Black cookies. Maybe it's just the idea of having more of something, kind of like Lays: you can't have just one. One is never enough- you feel unsatisfied with one cookie, one friend, one pair of shoes (another great pair), one song, one kiss, one love, one child...okay I don't know about that last one... but generally speaking, we always want more than one. Pairs are so neat, they're planned so well, like the little Starbucks cookies (dark chocolate covered grahams) that come in duos. What is Ginger without Fred? How does Lucy succeed without Ricky? Brangelina- all of these great sets of twos. The Olsen Twins. Rodgers and Hammerstein, George and Ira Gershwin. Who wants to read about James if there were no Giant Peach? Who cares about Tom Sawyer without Huck Finn? The Lady and the Tramp, Milo and Otis, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. The list is endless.

So what happens when you aren't part of a twosome? What happened to the second half? You're left standing on stage, alone, under a white-hot spotlight, waiting for someone to come along and finish your duet. When do you stop waiting? When do two actually become one? One of you, so I guess you find another, because misery loves company and three's a crowd. Do you run into your deuce at the mall, at work, or at the coffee shop? If two heads are better than one, but one's all you've got, who's gonna help you find your back, your anchor, your omega. Do you have to be both alpha AND omega? One being, torn asunder by the lack of a half, the missing link. 1+1 doesn't equal 2, it equals 1. In reality it's one half + one half, but when you lose a half, or you never had one, you feel like a fourth of a person. And the longer you dwell and the more you consider, the more worthless you feel. Suddenly a half becomes three-fourths which takes up the whole of your mind, because you're clearly not enough. Do the math.

And so you sit, with your bagel sliced down the center and you watch the world with all of its happy couples: right and left, stop and go, hit and miss, and you wait. You wait for completion, companionship, nirvana, the light, and you start to realize that all of these partners in this dance we call life wouldn't be who or what they are without someone to compare them to. White and black, war and peace, crime and punishment- all of these are significant only in their grouping. What would a beginning be without an end? And so you then start to think that you can't be done yet, you can't be who you are, or really who you will be without some kind of assistance. You compare yourself not only to your missing someone but to the missing self that you can't be alone, and to all the other completed pairs until you shrink into nothingness. A non-existance, because your life can't be complete without someone else.

What if it is? Or worse, what if that's all you've got?

Striking the Balance

2010-02-07T08:24:00.000-08:00

This is a journal entry I wrote, and then decided to transcribe it here in the hopes that someone (not that anyone reads this) might gain something from it.

Deciding to be an optimist is a scary thing. Optimists are probably (to me) the most irritating kinds of people. They ignore the fact that you and/or other people are hurting and seem to show up when you need them the least. They spout anecdotes and -isms and completely gloss over the fact that you are in real pain. You need someone to actually LISTEN to you, not to simply nod sagely and offer a wan smile.

I fear people who are determined optimists because often I suspect they don't actually see the world around them. They march determinedly forward with their heads down, their ears plugged, and an "Everything Will Be Alright" sign on their foreheads, without noticing the "Kick me" post it on their backs. They seem to shout IGNORANCE in a bold, neon sign. I mean, you'd have to be blind and dumb to not see the struggles the world faces. And pure optimists seem to be passive as well. The world passes them by and they seem to wait for good fortune to hit them over the head. Like an early 90's video game, they wait for some pixelated (sp?), fuzzy object to float by and if they miss, oh well, it will all be okay. If they are struck by misfortune, oh well, it'll get better. And if something great comes along, well, they knew it the whole time, they knew it was coming, so it's kind of underwhelming.

I don't want to be like that. I don't want to live in a shiny but flimsy happy soap bubble. And how can you really know joy, if you've never experienced sorrow? Optimism (that kind anyway) seeps away at humanity and I want to feel.

So I'm choosing to be a selective optimist. If something happens, I'll experience it fully. I'll mourn and weep, or jump for joy and feel elation. I want to feel each loss and each gain acutely and entirely. Then, I'll press on. I'll actively try to make things better, or keep them great.

Today, I am choosing to be happy. Life is hard enough, just living. I remember now, how I struggled just to get out of bed in the morning, how I fought for every single thing I did. I am not going to forget again. I'm going to take that lesson and hold it, remember it, and learn from it. I accept that right now, in this moment, I am hurting. I won't pretend it away. Happiness is active. I'm going to put myself in places that make me happy. I'm going to do what makes me happy. This is the true meaning of optimism, and maybe humanity. This is fighting the "good fight." It will be hard, but I'll do it.

#22- Health Insurance

2010-01-13T18:55:00.000-08:00

I've completed #22 on my 101 in 1001. I have health insurance!!!

Now this seems like a small thing. But for a person who lived without health insurance for some time, let me tell you what a giant deal this is! I have actually been to the doctor TWICE and didn't have to pay some outrageous sum out of pocket.

Joy.

Another little thing in life. Sometimes you just gotta celebrate!

Happy 2010

2010-01-13T18:36:00.000-08:00

So it's been ages and ages since I last wrote. So many things have happened that it would be hard to try to fit in the last 4 months. So instead of looking back, I'll look forward instead.

Happy 2010!

I thought about making resolutions, and then read somewhere that only 6% of the people who make resolutions actually do them. So then I thought that perhaps I could modify the resolutions in order to make them more reachable. So I have created some ideas for 2010. Things to think about, things to keep in mind, things I'd like to get to. But unlike resolutions, they aren't breakable. It isn't the same as if I stopped dieting and ruined my resolution to lose 10 pounds. They are things that are constantly changing, and hopefully moving forward. They could lose ground, I guess, but they can't be broken. They are on-going parts of life.

Here are my 2010 Things to Strive Toward:
1) A happy, healthy me.
This could mean a lot of things. I'm working towards mental health, spiritual health, and physical health. So I'd like to eat right, take vitamins, stay healthy, get fit, etc. But I'd also like to spend more time in meditation, and make choices that are good for me.
2) Developing My Professional Self
3) Being An Adult
This means TONS of things. This means becoming more financially savvy. This means making smart, safe, healthy choices (see #1). This means being professional (see #2). This means being accountable for the things in my life.
4) Practicing My Craft
I want to make sure that in 2010, whatever I am doing, I am staying true to my artistic self, and continuing to grow as an artist.

I like these non-breakable goals. Of course, I could still be unsuccessful, but they're more fluid. And I like that. Besides, I have my list of 101 in 1001 of things that are breakable. Why not make something I kind of can't fail at.

Stream-of-Conscious writing #3

2009-09-21T16:21:00.000-07:00

The last one for today I promise.

pgs. 151-154 Journal 1

Topic: lost and found

You always hear these words together. They go as a set. "Lost and found." Sometimes it's even a location. Put an article in front of it and it becomes: The Lost and Found. A location where people put your shit when you're a dumbass and forget it somewhere. Notice it's not the true meaning of "lost." You didn't lose it, you left it, you abandoned it, the poor left glove or your cheap Target sunglasses, and so then someone finds it and either a) steals it (aka finders keepers) or b) gives it to this special place where someone hides it from you and all the other people that might want it, until you remember exactly where you became retarded and "lost" your shit.

Lost and Found. Always together. But the true meaning of lost is so much deeper. And I don't think they always appear in sets of 2's. I think that you can lose something or someone, and never find it/them again. I feel like I've been lost. I'm not "found" yet. And I feel like there is some connotation that you either are found by someone else, usually a deity or by a lover, or you find yourself, which really means you went to a stupid retreat and did yoga until you felt "centered." It's basically a more flamboyant way of saying you did some soul searching and became totally emo and self-absorbed. OR you had to do it yourself because you were too lame to find a significant other to do it for you, to "find" you on the edge of the chasm and bring you back, save you from yourself with their all-encompassing, ever lasting love, blah blah blah. It purified you and made you whole, lame, lame, lame. Just some bullshit. Which makes you wonder- what happens if none of that happens? There is no roadmap, there are no directions. Take two rights and a left, and you're "found." And what if you get more lost trying to get "found"?

What's even more terrifying is the alternative meaning of "lost," the one people use more often without knowing. The "abandonment" one. What if I was abandoned? What if I abandoned myself?

Stream-of-Conscious writing #2

2009-09-21T16:14:00.000-07:00

Here is my second stream-of-consciousness piece that I plan to post on here. There are a couple that are a bit too personal, but these seem fine to share.

pgs. 147-149 Journal 1

Topic: unknown

The grass is greener on the other side. It's always greener. Everybody says so. But there are so many questions: on the other side of what? What color is green? And if you're color blind, what color is it then?

But you can't ask those questions because EVERYBODY knows the answer. Everybody knows you're happiest where you've never been, preferably where you'll never be. And you're always happier than some, who aren't where you should be, or where they should be, and you take comfort in being at least where you are. And there are the others, the people happier than you because they are where you should be, but where you should be isn't where they should be. They should be elsewhere. But not too far so you can see where they've gone and can be sure they're not anywhere You should be. They can't go too far or you risk believing they're better off, or worse, happier there than here, which isn't here but there, because you aren't here, they are, and they oughtn't be, which is what makes you so damned mad all of the time. Except during the times you're thankful that you aren't in the negative elsewhere where Some people dwell.

And so 'round we go, where we'll stop, nobody knows. Trying to keep up with the Joneses, who are trying to keep up with me, but not with them. But what if they aren't trying to keep up with anyone? What if they're happier where they are? Happiest, even. It would all fall apart then, as we jostle for space and position and see a piece of the puzzle that's missing, a piece that never was, we only imagined it there.

Stream-of-Conscious writing #1

2009-09-21T15:54:00.000-07:00

So I've been actively journaling for the past few months, and it's really been helpful for me in life. One evening, a while back, I couldn't really figure out what I needed to say, although I knew I wanted to express something, so I tried something new. I decided to write a stream-of-consciousness journal entry. I didn't have a topic, I didn't know what I wanted to talk about, I just started writing and figured that my writing would pick its own theme. It was an old exercise from elementary or middle School that never went incredibly well for me then, but what the hell. I ended up with some really interesting journals that aren't incredibly personal, but just had interesting thought processes in them. So I decided once I got internet in my apartment (FINALLY AFTER A MONTH OF WAITING!!!) I would transcribe them onto my blog, in case anyone was interested.

Here it goes..........

pg. 129-134 of journal 1

I think I'm going to do stream-of-consciousness writing now, a thing that has never gone well in the past. It never feels free, like a stream, but more dead, sluggish, like a brackish marsh. You can't see to the bottom, through the murky water but you know instinctively something is in there, something dark that you shouldn't touch. So you sail on by, except that sail isn't the right word because that isn't what kind of boat you're in, your boat can barely move let's not forget. There are no sails, no clean white flapping sheets that grow taut in the breeze and convey your thoughts into the freedom of the page. So you probably have a paddle and you are forced to struggle, to work for your ideas. You feel mildly disdainful and wish there were someone else, anyone else available to dredge it all up. But there is no one, you're alone in your solitary canoe, or kayak, and if you don't push at it you get stuck and sit, motionless, on the surface of the bog, unable to free your arms or your mind.

And your boat is disturbingly close to the water. You aren't feet up but a mere inches away from the surface and when you look down you can't see anything, not even the reflection of your face, which I suppose is a good thing, because you wouldn't recognize it if you saw it. There is no concept of reality, of the knowledge of the self that usually accompanies such deep thoughts, but then again, you're having trouble experiencing these deep thoughts in the first place, so what is that? Is your current condition your own fault then? Are you stuck in the miar because you can't see your face, or can you not see your face because you are stuck? And what does it matter anyway? You have to carry on because you can't transport yourself to that stream that represents self-awareness in the blink of an eye, you have to paddle while your arms hurt, and sand flies and mosquitoes feast on your blood, sipping and humming at the back of your neck and in your ears. These annoying disturbances could be anything, like a phone ring or a thought filled with self-judgment and self-loathing. But whichever it is, you slap at it and make it go away for a bit and you slug on. You are blind to your surroundings, because let's face it, you're in a bog and besides the dank and the damp there isn't much scenery to view, but you wipe the sweat from your brow and march on, figuratively speaking. Paddle on- though that's figurative too since this imaginary bog is all just a hallucination of an overactive imagination working 60+ hours a week on little pay in less-than-ideal working conditions. There isn't much fertile soil to be tilled in the land of originality, so you go back to the swamp. It feels homey, and in a way it makes you less nervous than the barren vineyard of creativity that was once lush on the vine. The bog is merely a struggle. It could eventually get easier if you keep on "keepin on." Slowly, the mist will lift and the waters will clear and you begin to get a glimmer of where your face used to be or would have been when you lean over the side of the boat.

And then your boat becomes a raft, like in Huck Finn, but much safer and controlled, and the marsh gives way to the stream-of-consciousness that is teeming with plant and animal life within its foamy depths and at its banks. And you look down and know it's You smiling back as you cast your line and fish for whatever is down there that would like to come up. But the vineyard- that truly terrifies you. For if the marsh represents struggle, you can't imagine what the vineyard is. The death of new thoughts to be made (or fished for), perhaps. The brilliant light of self-edification and sense of self that once shown brightly but has now been extinguished.

Better not to go there....

Wow. A stream-of-consciousness about a stream of counsciousness. How meta of me.
_______________________________________________________________

that was one of my favorites.

#88- 1st of 2 tattoos

2009-09-19T18:32:00.000-07:00

So this didn't happen as long ago as the US VI trip, but I got one tattoo the monday before I moved to Kentuckiana.

A vila mon coeur. Guardi li mo.It means "here is my heart, guard it well."

It's right under my tots, where the underwire of my bra would go. It makes me smile. Now I need to design and afford the second one...

Obama, Sen. Wilson, Serena Wilson, and Kanye West

2009-09-19T15:48:00.000-07:00

This is a post about a number of things that have occurred in the past week or two that have put our nation in an uproar. This is a response to many things I have heard, positive or negative, about what has happened. This is a blog, so clearly it's an opinion piece, and I do not claim to possess any authority other than what I believe in my head and heart to be true. I am not a political analyst, nor an economist, nor any person of any authority at all. I am just me. And I have a question- What is wrong with our country?

Now before I get yelled at for being Anti-American or anti-something, let's clarify. Why has everything become about hate, and about fear?

Democrats hate Republicans. Republicans hate Democrats. White people hate Black people. Black people hate White people. Women hate men. Men hate women. Young people hate old people, everyone hates immigrants, the East hates the West, Christians hate Muslims, Muslims hate Christians. The list goes on and on. It's all about hate.

Why is it that if someone expresses an opinion that someone else disagrees with, suddenly that person's integrity, character, and value as a human being is called into question? Suddenly, that person is stupid, or ugly, or racist, or a nigger, or whatever. What's the point in devaluing a life because you don't agree with something someone said? Why do you have so much hate? Just because a person might not agree with you doesn't mean they don't have value. Who are you? Who died and left you King of Opinions? Who are you to pass judgment on anyone of us? Every person in the world is flawed. Every person in the world makes mistakes. And in your moment of judgment, you have made the biggest mistake of all- the mistake of assuming you must be right. Who says you're right? Who decided that? What authority do you have on the subject? Even if you are a celebrity, a politician, an academic, a doctor or a lawyer, no matter how many books you've read or blogs you follow, how can you be so certain that someone else couldn't do it better? For all of those people- I envy you your certainty. It must be nice to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you have done every single moment in your life perfectly. However, I don't envy you your foolishness, or your blindness to reality. Your inability to see anyone but yourself scares me. It terrifies me because it makes you capable of terrible, horrible things.

Senator Wilson, Serena Williams and Kanye West all have one thing in common- they behaved inappropriately. It doesn't matter that one spoke out of turn in a political arena. It doesn't matter that the VMA's aren't really as important as the US Senate, in the grand scheme of things. It doesn't matter that Serena Williams is a black woman, and that Senator Wilson is a white man. It doesn't matter that our president is black. It doesn't matter that he is a representative of the Democratic party. It doesn't matter that Kanye West was drunk, or that he is a black man, or that he is a talented artist. None of those things matter. Any of these 3 might have been "right" (although right and wrong is almost always a matter of opinion anyway), and certainly in the moment, all of them felt justified in their behavior. Perhaps they still feel justified. Perhaps they feel remorse. Perhaps not. That doesn't matter either. And it doesn't excuse the fact that they all behaved inappropriately. They all demonstrated an appalling lack of class and good breeding. They all, in that moment, assumed that life was all about them. And yet, in being self centered, they either can not or will not see that behaving well IS all about you. It isn't about whose moment you stole, it isn't about whether or not the other person behaved well, it isn't about what happened before or after, or what he said or she said. It's about personal responsibility for one's own actions. Which is why Kanye's apology, Serena's apology, and Joe's apology all fell short. Kanye apologized for stealing someone else's moment, not for being self centered in assuming that everything was all about him, and maybe all about Beyonce, who he might think is as awesome as he is, or even more awesome. Serena Williams can't seem to understand that it doesn't matter how much stress she was under- it doesn't excuse threatening a person's life. In trying to make it all about her and her stress, she refuses to make it all about her responsibility for her own actions. Senator Wilson doesn't get that an apology to the President doesn't cut it. It isn't enough to apologize for hurting someone's feelings. That seems to imply even more blame on the other person. "I'm sorry you feel that way" or "I'm sorry if you're offended." Instead, Wilson needs to apologize for being badly behaved. He needs to apologize for his rudeness and his inability to be appropriate to the situation. It doesn't matter whether or not anyone agrees with what he said, or what his motives might have been for saying it. Either way, he chose the wrong time, place, and method to express his political disapproval. No one is trying to take away free speech- in fact, we're trying to save it. In Wilson insisting that he has the right to speak his mind, he is insinuating that President Obama DIDN'T have the right to finish experiencing the first ammendment. All of these poeople have excuses- what I said was right, or I was drunk, or I was in a high stress environment. Take Responsibility For Your Actions! Within your huge sense of entitlement must exist some sense of personal responsibility. But instead, Americans (and many other people all over the world) are all about the means justifying the end. The reason behind something is so much more important than the actual moment itself. It's okay if I behaved egregiously, as long as I was right. It's okay, because I was justified. It's bloody well not okay!!

It can be explained through a strange sense of entitlement. Everyone assumes they DESERVE respect, or that they deserve rights. But so often in being deserving, it takes away from everyone else. Everyone demands rights in the US of A. You better not take away my right to bear arms, speak freely, practice my religion of choice, or vote. And of course, everyone deserves rights. But not when your rights come at the expense of someone else's rights. So many people think it's okay to take away the rights of others to get what they need. But what about the person whose rights you stole? They probably think that they deserve things too. They most likely feel a similar sense of entitlement. Which begs again the question- who are you? Who are you to decide who gets to speak and who doesn't? Who are you to decide what's best for everyone else? Who are you to take and not give?

Our founding fathers believed that ALL people deserved the same unalienable rights, such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Some of the people who came to this country came for religious freedom. Some came for glory or money, and discovered later that they wanted the same freedoms that others seemed to have. (And even so they weren't so generous to other parts of the population, but I digress.) Why should you throw all of that away to get your piece of the pie?

In politics it has become so popular to disparage a president, any president (not just our current one) without stopping to consider- could you do it better? No matter what happens, good or bad, we are responsible. We elected this man. Every person- even those who voted for someone else. Everyone, in choosing to live on American soil, has chosen this person. If you don't like the system, then move and do it better some place else. But until you do that, take responsibility in knowning that we choose- we the people of the United States of America. We choose others, people we believe are more qualified than us, to speak our minds and make our country great. So if that person fails, as every one of us will do at some point in our lives and in the next 4 years, we all eat crow. Stop blaming other people. Stop pointing fingers. It doesn't solve anything, it doesn't erase the past or alter the future. Every president makes mistakes. We glorify those in the past, those we never lived to see. But I guarantee not every person alive in 1790 thought George Washington was right 100% of the time. Abraham Lincoln certainly didn't have the entire nation backing his choices. Yet these are the people we look back at, these are the people that helped to make our country great. I would never, ever want to be President. I would never want to make choices that affect so many people when I can barely make the right choices for myeslf. Yes, Barack Obama wanted it, but he didn't want scorn and derision for being the person he is. He didn't want it, he isn't asking for it in his actions or words, and he doesn't deserve it. Neither does George Bush, nor Ronald Reagan. Neither Nixon nor Lyndon B. Johnson, Andrew Jackson nor Pierce, Polk, Harrison, Ford, Roosevelt, Harding, or any other man that stepped into the hardest office and tried to do what he thought was right. It's the same for all the world's leaders. Prime ministers, Kings, Queens, Presidents, Tzars- all thought they were doing what was right for their people. You don't have to agree with their choices, but that doesn't mean they should be demonized.

Look at the people who have caused the most pain and distruction, people like Stalin and Hitler. They both believed they were doing what was right. See where being right gets you? Hitler, in his unyielding certainty, masacred an entire race of people. And a nation stood behind him while he did it, or refused to say anything against it. (Yes there were people who fought, and people who suffered for standing up for saving lives.) And people ask- how? How could all of those people support him when he was doing terrible things? I don't claim to know all the answers. I can't speak for all of those people. But many of them thought they were right. It's scary to be certain. It's scary to trust someone else to run a country. It's scary to have your life decided by someone else's certainty. Which leads me to fear. Everyone fears the unknown. Why African Americans, Hispanics or Asians should be unknown is beyond me, but racism is about fear. Sexism is about fear. Hatred is about fear. But don't let your fear destroy this awesome country. Don't let your fear destroy my life, or the life of my children. I don't understand some fears. I don't understand the fear of being wrong. I don't understand clinging to a set of beliefs, an antiquated idea of what life is like, because changing would mean admiting you might have been doing it wrong. I don't understand the fear of change. I don't understand what's so threatening about people who look different, or think differently. But even if you are afraid- courage is not a lack of fear but the ability to stand and take action in the face of that fear. Stop fearing the things you don't understand and go understand them. Get knowledge, know what's going on when you make arguments. Be correct while you're "being right," while you're standing on your soapbox. And be appropriate. Know when it's wrong to do something, even if you believe your intentions to be good or your means to justify the end.

I'm not suggesting there shouldn't be political parties, I'm not arguing for a monarchy, and I'm not saying I don't love my country. I do. And I believe strongly that everyone should get to exercise their rights freely and safely. I want people to disagree, and question, and change. But let's be civil and intelligent about expressing our disagreement. Because through intelligence and civility can come progress and true change. Blind hatred and fear sows chaos, disorder, and pain for everyone. No one wins.

We are all human. Every last one of us. We were born, we will live, and we will die. There is no difference among us, no matter the color of one's skin, nor the x or y chromosome. We are all people. We all deserve rights. I believe that we all deserve healthcare. I believe we should all be able to get married. For those reasons, I vote for the democratic party. But I don't claim to be absolutely right. I don't claim to know better than anyone else on this earth. And if anyone, through a persuasive argument using fact and reason, can persuade me to change my beliefs, I will and happily. I believe that the person who runs our country is doing his best, and is doing what he believes will help. I believe the last person to do that did the same. I didn't agree with how he did it, but it doesn't make him any less of a person, any less deserving of mercy, forgiveness, family, joy, love, or life.

I know there will be people who will read this and call me names. I know there will be people who question my loyalty to my country. I know insults will be flung, I know I will be dehumanized. But I also know that I don't care. So if you have a negative comment about my family, my education, my hometown, friends, political affiliation, religious preference, race, gender, or personal value- save it. You won't change my mind that way so please don't bother. If you have a rational and reasonable argument, please express it.

"There is no one of us without sin. There should be some comfort in that." - Through A Glass, Darkly.

And #37 happened...My Fabulous Vacation to the US VI

2009-08-20T08:23:00.000-07:00

Crossing off #37- I visited Brittney at her house in the US Virgin Islands for 5 days, and it was fantastic!!!!

And once again, I'm even more late because that happened in early July. In fact, my vacation was from July 8th until July 14th. Or 15th. One of the two. The point is, it was a long time ago. But I made it. I made it happen, I got there, and it was amazing. When I'm not at work (of course that would require making the internet work in my house) I'll elaborate into what made this vacation/adventure so fantastic, and I'll include pictures. Actually, I need to be including pictures of everything, otherwise how will you know that I actually did it?? LOL The proof is in the pixel I guess, so I need to make that happen. But I at least wanted to triumphantly say that it happened. That I'm effectively crossing items off of my list (perhaps not as quickly as I'd like) and each goal I accomplish makes the next one even easier. Some of them aren't going to happen as many days as I'd like, but I think I can get them all in. At least I can try.

9/21/09- so I've added a photo (it's my Corona pic) to this post, and I'll now elaborate on what made this vacation so special. Not only was I in the US Virgin Islands, the home of some of the world's most beautiful beaches (according to the Travel Channel) but I was finally seeing the home of my best friend from college. She's one of the most important people in my life, and it was so lovely to be able to spend some time in her house, and visit with her family. It was really such a blessing. I loved every moment.

We went to the BVI's (British Virgin Islands) and did this unbelievable bar crawl, except we weren't walking, we were boating! We boated to all of these famous, amazing bars and drank all over the place. It was utterly fantastic. I was WASTED. But it was amazing. We got on their friend's boat and went to the Soggy Dollar Bar, a famous bar that you can only swim to, because you can't dock your boat anywhere so you just anchor it and jump in. We also went to this really beautiful restaurant, and to 3 different bars in one day. It was amazing. (At the Soggy Dollar Bar is the home of the first Corona commercial, where they sit out and all you see is a Corona against the ocean...so that's what my corona pic is....we took pictures of our feet in a hammock, against the sea. we didn't have corona's but whatever)

We went shopping, we went to the beach, we drank, we went boating. It was so lovely to be in a lovely place with family. And that's my vacation. Yay for crossing items off the list.

#34 My new life in Kentuckiana...

2009-08-20T08:18:00.000-07:00

#34 is crossed off- I moved away from Evanston, IL and now live in Clarksville, Indiana.

Now it seems like a small move, but I live 5 hours south of my previous location, and I love it! Of course, I'm really behind on posting, since I moved 20 days ago...wow! I've been in Indiana for 20 days! I hadn't really thought of that until now. I don't have internet in my apartment (still) so I haven't had time to sit down and get myself up to date. But I moved, and I love it. My apartment is fantastic, and my new job (#4) is fantastic, and I am so happy that I made this change. Of course, financially it will be a struggle (when is it not??) but I know that I'll get through it. I already see that this is one of the best things I've ever done in my 22 years of life.

#57 crossed off

2009-06-21T16:02:00.000-07:00

A silly little triumph, but I gave up facebook for a week, accomplishing #57 on my list of 101 in 1001.

Basically, I got really tired of going on facebook and feeling like I "had" to look at everyone's page and find out what was going on. I also got tired of obsessing about what (if anything) people had written on my wall. It was super annoying. So I gave it up. Cold turkey. 1 week. Okay so I did come back to it, but at least I proved to myself that life before FB was fine, and so I don't need it now.

It's all about the little things in life, right??

Sexual Epiphany (no this isn't literary erotica)

2009-06-08T10:44:00.001-07:00

So last night, I had a conversation with a man who will remain nameless, and he informed me that he would enjoy sex with a strap-on.

Naturally that statement requires some thinking. I'll let it sink in. Here, I'll even repeat it for you.

So last night, I had a conversation with a man who will remain nameless, and he informed me that he would enjoy sex with a strap-on.

I was shocked! I've never met a man who would admit this to me! And then I was even more shocked to discover that the idea was kind of sexy. Hmmm.... a man who wanted experience sex the way that I experience sex. That could be hot...

Having grown up in a socially constructed society, my mind began to (naturally) wonder if he was secretly gay. I quickly threw out such an assumption- the man clearly loves women. But how do you define a man who is hyper-masculine in all other walks of life- he is macho, goes to the gym, drinks beer and yells at sports on the tv- and yet he wants to be penetrated from behind with a silicone imitation of his own genitalia. (what would Freud have to say I wonder?) I then moved to the "bi-sexual" category to see if he fit there. I would have been okay with that answer, it would have made sense, and there the judgement would end. But then he informed me that he didn't like men. Men just don't do it for him. And then I was nonplussed. What could that statement possibly mean? A woman with a strap-on works, but a man doesn't? It's the same apparatus. And then I saw the answer staring me in the face, the answer that was so completely obvious that I couldn't believe I missed it- the sexual attraction doesn't lie in the apparatus, it lies in the sex of the person behind the machine, if you will. My friend who is solidly and comfortably straight, likes the idea of giving up something for a woman. The idea of surrendering to a man is not attractive. The point isn't that he's closeted, he just understands what he wants. He wants to surrender himself to a woman, to give a woman a part of himself that no one else experiences. And not only is that incredibly romantic when you look at it that way, it also answers my earlier question about defining this man. Let's ask the question again, for it bears repeating: How do you define a man who is hyper-masculine in all other walks of life, and yet he wants to experience sex with a woman, the way women experience it? And the answer- you don't define him!

And hence comes the revelation. Sex is created in the womb- it isn't chosen. And therefore sex is a real thing that hasn't been invented by the hegemonic ruling gender. XX chromosomes and XY chromosomes create different things, different beings. But everything that goes along with sexuality is socially constructed. There are no "gay" or "straight" behaviors or ideas. Sexuality just is. You like what you like. Some men like men. Some men like women. Some men like both men and women. But wearing a certain color or playing with trucks doesn't determine your sexuality. Men who like shopping don't have to be gay, and neither do men who enjoy anal penetration. (I mean, the male g-spot is in the prostate, let's all remember) I think it's easy in this society to allow your behavior to determine who you are. I refuse to let my behaviors define me- if they did, I might be defined as an oaf at least 50% of the time. And if my sexual behaviors defined me, then depending on who I was with, I might be many different people. And depending on how I felt on any given day with the same partner, I might have multiple personality disorder!

It's so easy to look at people and try to label them because of their actions. People tend to forget to ask the real question- what do they want? Who do they want? Shouldn't that be the answer to almost all the sexual orientation questions a person could ask? Sexuality is so much less profound than people make it out to be. People like what they like; people want what they want. Anything else is just extra.

author's note: I realize I have not touched the concept of transgender, sex changes, drag shows, anything that falls in the "inbetween" of gender identification. This because I know next to nothing on the subject and don't want to say anything I don't mean.

101 in 1001 #4

2009-06-03T08:59:00.000-07:00

The first item to be fully crossed off my list!

#4- GETTING A NEW JOB IN MY FIELD

YAY!!!!! I DID IT!!!!!

I am now an intern (job, internship, I'll take what I can get) at the Actors Theatre of Louisville in Louisville, KY!
(I mentioned it in my last post and then realized I needed to do the darn thing properly)
I've been waiting for ages to hear about this job posting and finally, I got it! Victory is mine!

I can't wait! I'll be in the education department, going out and working with students of all ages (grade school) on theatre workshops, preparing them to come see shows at ATL and helping them learn to write 10 minute plays, all kinds of exciting things! This brings me one step closer to my goal of being a teacher! I mean, I already have been a teacher, but a teacher of theatre! I am so excited to get some guidance in making lesson plans, classroom techniques, and all kinds of other things I can learn from my bosses, Jacob and Steven, who are fantastic! I leave Chicago August 3rd, and start work on August 10th. Then, I can cross off at least one more item on my list, moving to a new city! (I think there's another one involving jobs and moving so I'll have to check...)

I've been slacking on my list, which is fine, they said accept failures, but I think it would help if I printed it out and posted it so I can look at it and remember all the things I want to be doing.

Life is a Cabaret

2009-06-03T07:25:00.001-07:00

"What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a cabaret, old chum, come to the cabaret. Put down your knitting, the book and the broom! Time for a holiday. Life is a cabaret, old chum, come to the cabaret. Come taste the wine, come hear the band. Come blow your horn, start celebrating; right this way your table's waiting. No use permitting some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away. Life is a cabaret, old chum, come to the cabaret."

So clearly Liza Minnelli is crazy, albeit talented, but you know, maybe she was right about the lyrics to this song....yes I know she didn't write it, but in Cabaret, she embodied it. Isn't she right? Why not live life to the fullest, in the here and now?

"I used to have a girlfriend known as Elsie. With whom I shared four sordid rooms in Chelesa. She wasn't what you'd call a blushing flower...as a matter of fact she rented by the hour! The day she died, the neighbors came to snicker. 'Well that's what comes of too much pills and liquor.' But when I saw her laid out like a queen, she was the happiest....corpse....I'd ever seen. I think of Elsie to this very day, of how she used to turn to me and say...."

Maybe my goal in life is not to become a hooker...and perhaps I don't want to waste the little life I have on drugs and booze. But I think I've spent so much time preparing for what's coming up in life, that I haven't spent much time living it. I am a product of my generation. Walter Kirn wrote a memoir entitled "Lost in the Meritocracy- the Undereducation of an Overachiever" and it is incredibly applicable to my life. Every single day in grade school I was working for something larger. I knew I needed good grades. At first, I couldn't have said why, exactly. I just knew it needed to happen. It was my job, it was what I was supposed to do. Then, as I got to high school, I figured out what my purpose had been all along- College! Grade school was preparing me for college! I remember trying to explain to my friends why I was such a bloody suck-up. I had a conversation one day at my locker, attempting to tell someone why I was thinking about college as a lowly freshman. People would ask why I bothered to work so hard, why I raised my hand at every question asked, why I permitted myself to be snickered at (much like our fictitious Elsie) and judged as I wormed my way into my teachers' daily lives.

I couldn't tell them I raised my hand to answer every question not because I knew the answer (I got called on enough that I could take chances like that and know the teacher would ask someone else) but to SHOW the teacher (and anyone else) that I "knew" the answer. I manipulated them all- the teachers, the students. I made the students think I secretly disdained my life of moral superiority, that it was a chore, that on the inside, I was just like them. I could be cool, I could be popular and still be succesful. I wanted to prove to them that I didn't have to choose. But underneath my affected distain for the attention I received, I reveled in it. I loved every extra moment of it, it fed my soul, the compliments, the "adult" conversations. I cherished knowing my teachers preferred me to everyone else. They felt I was the only student in my year that could have an intelligent conversation, the only person who had any conception of life after high school, life outside drab, dreary old Maryland. I was one of the few that chose to live up to my potential. But I was fooling them too. I didn't give a shit about their personal lives, I didn't actually want to talk to them. I just wanted to go home and sit, I didn't want to stay after and clean up, or run NHS meetings. I was just using them to get good college recommendations so that when the time came, I'd have a hundred different teachers dying to tell each college exactly why I should go there and get away from the life I knew. I didn't run errands for them because I loved walking the halls to go get shit I didn't care about. I went because it inspired trust every time I came back with my prize. Because they afforded me liberties that none of the other students could take, and in another way it set me above the rest. On and on I performed, for myself, for my fellow students, for my teachers. Each of them thinking I hated the other, when in reality I hated them all.

My life was a big show, a big cabaret, if you will. It was all about showing the people you spent every day with that you knew what you were doing, that you were a good student. My senior year, I probably missed half of the school year by just going home when I felt like it. I used to brag that I could do such things because all of my teachers trusted me, the administrators never imagined that a good student like me would be leaving. Of course I had a reason to be in the hallway, clearly I had been given a pass. It was one performance after the other, of looking like I knew the answer, looking like I had some place to be. I didn't really have anything. I was just waiting for the next best thing.

And then, COLLEGE. I applied for college, I got into college, I went to college. Even then, the performance was ongoing. I had no idea what I was performing for this time, or who, but I continued on. It had gotten to be a habit. I suspect it was like that for most NU students. I mean, who of them didn't have good grades in high school? Which of them had gotten a low score on the ACT? If there were those students, they were few and far in between, and their circumstances drove them to work even harder, and succeed even farther, than those students that had originally outclassed them. I, for one, couldn't be left behind. I drove myself, I joined every activity I could find. I gained leadership roles, I worked late into the night and early into the morning....sometimes. I actually rarely made any sacrifice for my grades. I wish I could say I killed myself to be successful at NU, but I didn't. Success just came. It came as it always had, unbidden, but certainly not unwelcome. Even at this stage of my life I was working to perform for the masses, trying to prove I belonged at NU, trying to prove I was the best. I would openly tell you that I had no plans for graduate school; there was no reason for me to insist on As and Bs. I did get one C+, and I was horrified by such a grade. I still, to this day, believe it was unjust. Especially considering the circumstances- more about that later. But when other friends asked me why I was so neurotic about my GPA, which was never as high as I wanted it to be, I couldn't explain that I was just doing what I had always done. It seemed silly to let my grades go now, when I had spent so much time trying to keep them afloat. Why bother slacking? I made slacking seem like a chore, something that was consciously done, something that took work and effort, whereas achievement was accidental, or unplanned. I somehow just couldn't bear the sight of poor grades on my electronic transcript, so I carried on, taking classes I knew I could get A's at, and scoffing at my father's old fashioned ideas that learning was more important than performance.

And now here I am. A year out of school, a wanderer, a vagabond, trying to discover exactly what it is I want to be when I grow up. I've decided that Grad school is, in fact, in my plans, and am mildy grateful for the OCD student that I was. And I wonder when I'm going to stop performing and start living. This past year, I haven't really done anything of value, though I've learned more about myself in 9 months than I ever have. And that is of value to me, but yet still I'm performance driven. I want to show people that I've done something, that I'm doing something, that I'm going to do something, that I'm not just waiting around for life to hit me like an oncoming bus. And that's what this blog is about. This blog is about living my life actively, and on purpose. I don't want to perform my life for anyone, I want to live it.

The question is, what is life? Or maybe I should be a bit less meta (not too much, or this wouldn't be my blog now would it?) and ask, what is a cabaret? Is the point of the cabaret to perform? As I recall, Sally Bowles was a performer in a cabaret. And yes, this song was her excuse for giving up all the good things in her life- because she wanted to have fun. Cliff was too serious. Cliff wanted to have a baby and move to America, and write, and avoid the Nazis who were taking over Germany inch by inch. Sally didn't want all of that- she didn't want to disappoint Ciff by not being able to be the woman he needed, so she aborted his baby, sold her fur coat, left him and came back to the Kit Kat Klub and sang this song. Maybe in this show, the cabaret was Sally's excuse for refusing to live an adult life. She didn't want to have responsibility, grow up, be a real person. She wanted fun and excitement and jewels and money and fur coats. In that way, maybe for me, performance is my excuse for not living a real, adult life. My focus on my performance, my cabaret, is cheating me out of going out and doing things I may never get to do again. I'm staying in my little apartment, struggling to do the day-to-day activities of paying bills and going to work in a stupid coffee shop on 5th and Broadway, and avoiding going out and living. I'm too focused on "doing things" that need to be done. I'm playing at being an adult, pretending I have my life together. No risk, no gain, right? If I refuse to risk, maybe I'm refusing to live!

Luckily, I have been given a golden opportunity to go to Louisville, KY and work at the Actors Theatre of Louisville. I have one year. I call it my year between now and the rest of my life. It's the time when I can do whatever I want. Of course, I have to go to work, but I can also take road trips, or fall gloriously in love, or run away from home, or just experience life in a new place. I have one year to do it, whatever it is, before I go to grad school and continue playing for the masses, striving to get good grades to get into a strong PhD program. But maybe along the way, I'll end up learning something. So my "cabaret" is actually outside of the concert hall. For me, living life to the fullest is off the stage and into the classroom. In Kentucky. So here I go.

"What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a cabaret, old chum, come to the cabaret. And as for me, as for me; I made my mind up back in Chelsea, when I go I'm going like Elsie! Start by admiting from cradle to tomb, it isn't that long a stay. Life is a cabaret, old chum, only a cabaret, old chum, and I love a cabaret!"

I remember when...I remember I remember when I lost my mind.

2009-05-01T08:04:00.000-07:00

There was something so pleasant about that place.
Even your emotions had an echo, in so much space.

And when you're out there, without care.
Yeah I was out of touch.
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough.
I just knew too much.

Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly

And I hope that you are
Having the time of your life
But think twice
That's my only advice

Come on now, who do you
Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha, bless your soul
You really think you're in control?

Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me
_______________________________________

I feel like Gnarls Barkley was on to something when he wrote this song. And titled it "Crazy." Currently, I'm crazy. Well, we're all a little crazy right now, but this is different. Stir-crazy you could call it, or maybe just crazy.

My life was fine. Everything was working. I had a job, I was eating, sleeping. I had friends. Life was fine. Nothing too insane. I thought I was completely in control of everything. I knew exactly where I was going, what I was going to do. I had a plan. Nothing could go wrong- right? Wrong.

And so I decided to make it crazy, to make myself crazy. It wasn't because I didn't know enough, it wasn't because I didn't have enough, it wasn't because I didn't do enough. Was it because I wasn't enough?
Maybe it was because Life wasn't enough...

Something was missing. It had to be. In that seemingly perfect space, something had fallen away. Something had been lost. Or maybe I was lost. And that's when I lost my mind. Not a big explosion. Nothing too weird. I didn't start cutting myself, or talking to myself, or really engaging in myself at all. That was the problem. I wasn't listening to myself.

I created drama in my life where there was none. I needed motion. Everything was too still, too quiet. The calm right before the storm. I've always assumed that the storm was just life. Life throws things at you and you deal with it the best way you know how. I didn't realize until right now that I was the storm. Life didn't do anything. Life was moving along at a normal rate. I stirred up the winds, I sent the rain, I lashed out at myself, at my calm little life. Life was the victim, and I the villain. Life was perhaps the innocent bystander. And here I come, with my insanity and barrel through, knocking over everything and anything that stood in my way.

Does everyone do that?

Why? Why do we think when everything is going right that we need a little bit of action, a bit of excitement? Who says that quiet equals boring? I've always heard people say that it's when everything is calm, that's when you watch out. We have adages for it. The calm before the storm. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. What if there isn't a shoe? What if there's no storm? Are we just making all of these things up? Do we just invent drama to stir everything up, because we're bored?

We're all slowly going insane. That's probably quite true for most of us. We get wrapped up in the little things, the paying of the rent, the buying furniture, the tiny details of being late on a Wednesday, or the interaction we had in church the other day. We become so narrow minded, we forget that there's an entire world outside of our self-centered tunnel vision. We get complacent in our every day existence. But every once in a while, we lose it. We create trouble where there is none. We go out and spend $500 on Manolos so we can have another shoe to drop. We get tired of being in control of everything. It doesn't make us feel accomplished. On the contrary, being in control of every little thing is boring, it's damn near exhausting. We want to feel like there's something out there that's larger than ourselves, so we play God and stir up the leaves so we can have some excitement. So we can stop going crazy.

Then the question becomes, are we crazy to make drama? Or the times when everything is "just right"- is that when we're at our most insane?

Which is it? Neither? Both?

I don't really have any idea. But truthfully, Barkley was right about one thing. There was something SO pleasant about that place. I'm not sure if I'm glad it's over, or if I can't wait till the next time...

101 Things in 1001 Days

2009-04-29T09:32:00.001-07:00

in the interest of living life with purpose, I have begun a list of goals that I wish to complete. This list was SUPER hard to create, though it doesn't look all that long when you read other people's lists. If you want to start a list, check out http://www.dayzeroproject.com/?view=gettingstarted

The Mission:
Complete 101 preset tasks in a period of 1001 days.

The Criteria:
Tasks must be specific (ie. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must also be realistic and stretching (ie. represent some amount of work on my part).

Why 1001 Days?
Many people have created lists in the past - frequently simple goals such as New Year's resolutions. The key to beating procrastination is to set a deadline that is realistic. 1001 Days (about 2.75 years) is a better period of time than a year, because it allows you several seasons to complete the tasks, which is better for organizing and timing some tasks such as overseas trips or outdoor activities.

Start Date: Wednesday, April 29th, 2009
End Date: Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

Education/Career
1. get accepted into and go to grad school
2. study for the GRE every other day between now and the day I take it
3. learn to speak 2 of the following 3 languages- French, Italian or German
4. get a new job in my field
5. improve my sight reading by practicing every day (0/1001)

Health/Beauty/Fitness
6. drink at least 24oz of water a day for a year. (365/365)
7. eat 3 servings of fruit each week for a month (4/4)
8. be vegan for a day
9. take an entire bottle of vitamins without forgetting a day
10. eat breakfast every day for 2 weeks (14/14)
11. wear sunscreen every day for an entire summer (May- August)
12. reach 140 lbs and stay at that weight till the end of the challenge
13. run half a marathon
14. stretch every day
15. do 30-day shred every day for 30 days (30/30)
16. be flexible enough to bend over and touch my nose to my knees
17. become a certified Pilates instructor
18. look amazing naked
19. put effort into my appearance every day for 1 week (7/7)

Financial
20. pay off all my credit cards
21. go shopping at Bloomingdales and Nordstrom and leave the store without buying anything on 10 different occasions (5/10)
22. get health insurance
23. create a monthly budget and stick with it
24. improve my credit by at least 60 points
25. pay off half of my student loans
26. put $5 into my savings account for each item completed (0/101)
27. put $50 into my Roth-IRA every month for the entirety of this challenge (0/33)
28. create a penny jar that I don’t touch till the end of this challenge.

Spiritual
29. repeat personal affirmations daily (0/1001)
30. read the Bible from beginning to end
31. pray daily (1/1001)
32. meditate daily for 30 days (0/30)

Travel
33. go on a road trip to some state on the other side of the Mississippi River
34. leave Chicago and move to a new city
35. visit my relatives in Colorado
36. visit my grandfather’s grave
37. visit Brit’s house in the US VI
38. travel to a European country I’ve never been to
39. go to Vegas
40. go to a vineyard and have a wine tasting

Self-Edification- Improving my Mind and Body
41. read the 100 books on the BBC book list (43/100)
42. read the entire works of Shakespeare
43. read 10 volumes/collections of poetry (0/10)
44. read 5 news articles every day for 2 weeks (0/14)
45. learn new gymnastics tricks: to throw a standing back tuck and to throw an aerial
46. relearn and understand anatomy
47. take a photography class
48. take a cooking class
49. take a circus class
50. take a burlesque class
51. attend the SITI company summer intensive
52. learn the basics of sign language
53. get back to ballet and get good enough to a) take an entire class en pointe and b) improve my extension

Creativity and Personal Growth
54. grow an herb garden
55. knit a throw blanket (actually crochet)
56. write the first 5 chapters of my first book
57. eliminate FB for 1 week (7 days) (7/7)
58. find someone to speak spanish with and have a 15 minute conversation with them once a month for 6 months (6/6)
59. relearn to ride a horse and go riding
60. see an opera
61. go to the ballet twice (2/2)
62. go to the theatre and see 10 straight plays and 15 musicals (10/10) (0/15)
63. create a photo journal
64. watch 100 movies that I’ve never seen that are not in theatres (in other words, catch up on some good films I’ve missed) (4/100)
65. frame 5 pictures of myself with people who matter to me (3/5)
66. practice piano every day for 30 days (0/30)
67. learn a new piano sonata (Beethoven, Mozart or Haydn)
68. learn a new Bach Prelude and Fugue
69. see at least 10 live concerts (can be any kind of music) (2/10)

For Myself And Others- Waiting On The World To Change
70. help my dog lose 3 pounds and keep it off
71. volunteer for Habitat for Humanity
72. do something for someone that is purely selfless
73. send a care package to a soldier I don't know fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan
74. put change in other people’s parking meters 10x (3/10)
75. go to a drive-thru and pay for the meal of the person behind me

The Little Things In Life

Mental Things
76. forgive each parent for 1 thing each month for 1 year (0/12)
77. celebrate my birthday (be excited, tell people about it, have a good time)
78. think of something that I would absolutely do if I weren’t afraid of people judging me. Do it. Don’t care when people judge me.
79. write a letter to myself about where I am in life, to be read at the end of this challenge
80. be kind to myself. for each negative thing I think about myself, I must then find 2 things I love about myself.

Sexy Things
81. sexy thing #1 (bunny)
82. sexy thing #2 (crazy)
83. sexy thing #3 (wet)
84. get professional photographs taken of me naked, and put them in my house
85. sunbathe in the buff

Organizational Things
86. write in my planner and refer to it at least once per week for a year
87. be on time to every destination all day every day for 1 week (eventually to become a habit but for now let’s start out slowly) (7/7)

Random Things
88. decide where I’m putting my next 2 tattoos, and go get them (not necessarily at the same time) (1/2)
89. put 1000 pictures of myself on FB (560/1000)
90. sing and dance in the rain
91. go to an away NU Football game
92. join grad chapter of a certain sorority
93. finish a crossword without cheating
94. give myself a pedicure (instead of being lazy and paying someone else to do it)
95. watch every season of Friends
96. spend a day being an optimist
97. master the 75 skills every woman should master (0/75)
see: http://abundance-blog.marelisa-online.com/2008/05/15/75-skills-every-woman-should-master-the-first-25/
98. win a poker game
99. buy a bike
100. buy a piece of art from a local artist and display said art in my house
101. write a letter to each grandmother once per week (0/144) (approximately)

In the beginning...

2009-04-29T09:25:00.000-07:00

so here I am, a million years since my last blog. I'm older and wiser. And I'm realizing that life is hard. Not hard like, I'm starving because I can't afford food (though I can't, that isn't what bothers me). But it's hard to stay on track. It's hard to stay focused.

I want to be certain that I am living my life the best way I know how. I don't want to float through it, I don't want to stumble upon it, I want to actively LIVE my life. I want to be sure I'm living somewhere because I like it, not because it's where I went to college and then was too lazy to move after graduation. I want to make sure that when I look back on my life before I die, I can say that I did everything I ever wanted to do. I don't want to have any regrets. So this blog is here to help me to stay engaged, to be honest with myself about where my life is going and what I want it to be.

I am on the brink. Here's hoping I jump into life head first. I don't want to fall over and find out later that I've landed someplace I didn't want to be. If I go anywhere, I want to know I got there on purpose. And if it isn't quite right, I'll prepare myself, throw away my safety net, and jump again.

This blog is about me, for me. I doubt I'll write anything interesting enough that people will follow it. But you're certainly welcome to check it out if you feel so inclined.