Sunday, December 11, 2011

please, believe me, I'm trying...

I had a very discouraging conversation two weeks back that left me questioning everything.

Desperation had me on my knees as I grieved like a baby.

I was a grown up in the conversation, thanking him for his honesty.. but I was pissed as hell and convinced that I wasn't good enough.

Forget intent, forget reversed psychology, forget encouragement... I was told that how I've been functioning my whole life may keep me from doing what I want to for a living.

I am guarded. Why I am so, is not really the concern.. it is getting rid of it that matters... at least for stage purposes. And it is not that I don't feel... It's just I do not naturally emote... I don't react. So experiencing and being in the moment is hard for me. I've been trained representation acting by chance..But more importantly, because I am new at this whole acting thing... I don't know how to get there. or where to go.

So of course I went to the CTCenter... which was by far NOT HELPFUL. If anything she brought to my attention that I've never taken an acting class before and so I may not used to be feeling so much like this. (because if I fail to emote emotion in the class, I leave class feeling the emotion therefore enduring painful memories the rest of the day). By God, that was a relief... because I was convinced I was depressed. But the whole reliving childhood moments and substituting situations for others was draining.

After a week of total desperation and gloom... I feel like I had a breakthrough. Many were telling me to go to my vulnerable state... tag that feeling and begin the piece there... and that it may be scary... but trust and say yes...

but it's not scary. I've just never been there... I didn't know how deep to go... where to go... how to express it in my body and in my face... so I need practice. I need practice being vulnerable in front of an audience ... and being comfortable.

It was just such a relief to discover that I'm not scared, or I'm so guarded that I can't let myself... but instead... I just need practice.

My desperation disappeared and motivated me.
But who knew that it takes someone telling you that you may not be good enough to realize how bad you want to do something for the rest of your life?

Improvements and growth is what I strive for.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thanks for Hula Hoops

I've been in a rut lately and in my attempt to overcome it I had to do some self discovery. I love stuff like that but I always find myself running out of time to do this. So here I go.

One of my biggest obstacles lately has been my gremlin saying "but that's not you" or "but you couldn't ever stick to that." And I do honestly believe sometimes that truly applies. Like I've never been able to do a cartwheel and quite frankly, i don't think I ever will! Haha, but the little things- like changing my lifestyle, becoming a runner, doing yoga, eating/cooking healthy, being spontaneous, being a book worm, being well educated, becoming a dancer... Those things I should be able to do.

On top of my gremlin nagging me, my acting classes have brought it to my attention that I'm pretty depressed. Not only is it genetic, its also because I dont like growing up. And Kelly is kicking my butt. I've spent so many years guarding my emotions and remaining composed that I can't share my vulnerability with an audience yet. I love Kelly for pushing me but most days I leave her class and just cry. I get so frustrated with myself and wish I could just feel things in front of people! It is so depressing that I am very numb in a public setting and I just can't be. After some time of this I was considering directing or vocal performance since my acting skills were discouraging me.. (thats how intense my frustration is) but then I remembered something and its all thanks to this wonderful fall recess.

When I was in elementary school three friends of mine would come over and we would hang out in my basement. We would do various activities like rollerblading, basketball, dancing, and even ab workouts! One day we discovered the hula hoop. Sharee was the best out of all of us- being a gymnist and such, Sheighle was second best, Nicole was okay but sports were more her thing, and i was the worst. I had never tried hula hooping before so of course I was the worse but it still bothered me... And without realizing it, I became better because i continued to hula hoop all the time in my basement by myself. It became fun for me and I got really good. I don't remember if my friends and i ever hula hooped together again but i worked my butt off to get good! I literally taught myself how to hula hoop with the motivation focusing on me.

I realized today how people put these mental walls up about what is possible and what is not... But as a child- i didn't. I'm trying to return to that mentality of spending time with myself in my parents basement crafting whatever project I am on... Because i hate feeling limited, and grownup, too busy, too defined, and stupid expectations. I want to continue recreating myself every day and every night into the person that I am and who I want to be... Not what soceity expects me to be.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Egos

So Kelly Quinnett came to our Vandaleers rehearsal yesterday and I realized something.

I hate singers.
Their egos.
Their judgements.
Their smugness about everything.
The need to comment on everything.
Tell you how to improve something but then when they get up and sing... they can't take their own advice that they so willingly give.
And I know this is pretty ironic since I don't consider myself an actor... I'm still technically a vocalist.
But I refuse to conform to the norm of a singer.
I don't care that they're blunt. And I love how disciplined most are.
But fuck the divas.

Kelly Quinnett is my 305 Intermediate Acting professor.
She is the shit.
Essentially the exercise she did with the choir was one we do in our class.
The exercise she chose to do is the same one I described to Jason and he nearly crapped himself muttering, "I could never do that..." Well he had too. Haha, and he did.

The exercise focused on intimacy.. no not having sex... but being vulnerable with a perfect stranger... and embracing it. We all stand in a circle and open ourselves to one another.. and then everyone... and then the whole room. Then, Kelly goes around the circle and when she touches your back to walk instinctively across the circle to someone who will be your partner.

This is done without talking and once you choose your partner, or they choose you, you continue to make eye contact throughout the rest of the exercise and join hands. Kelly then instructs you to find a place on the floor and sit as close to your partner as you can. After a few moments or explaining the next step, Kelly designates who is the Giver and who is the Receiver.

So I was really nervous doing this in Vandaleers. Which surprised me because I've been doing this in class with Kelly for the past week or so... but here I was scared.

I realized the egos scared me. I don't have one and I never will. I refuse too. As we were standing in our circle opening our hearts to the room there were people who has these looks on their faces like "fff this!" or "what the heck?!" and my heart literally sank. For this exercise to work.. you must be in communion with your partner and trust one another. If my partner doesn't meet me halfway.. how can I dive into this exercise? What if they judge me and talk crap saying, "Gosh, Meredith was so awkward... did you see how IN TO it she was?"
However, something Kelly said got me to relax.

Beyond their egos is a human being underneath. A real loving sharing vulnerable human being who uses the stupid ego and diva-ness to protect themselves from getting hurt... from being too vulnerable.. from being rejected... their fear creates these defense mechanisms.

"We aren't hardwired to be assholes. We aren't! We are hardwired to be loving creatures. It is embedded in us, it is in our nature, to love and to want to be loved and to care for one another. Society created this bull-shit idea of how we are supposed to act and how to protect ourselves. Protect ourselves from other human beings? Who just want to be loved too? Society created this and you are all just planning the game."

When I go to Kelly's class, society cease to exist. We just all are human beings who are in touch with ourselves, our emotions, and our needs. Since I joined the class late.. I don't even know all of my classmates names but yet... I feel comfortable holding them, loving them, and watching them cry.

Did I mention Kelly is intense?

After Kelly spoke to me, I was able to be in communion with my partner. Kelly said blackout... lights up... and our play of comfort began. ..Which I was worried about because he seemed really hesitant about the exercise. However, by the end of the exercise he was crying on my shoulder so I'm assuming he felt our connection was as strong as I think it was. :)

Saturday, August 13, 2011

an afterthought...

Is killing spiders humane?

Because if spiders were humans... I'd be serial killer

Remote control, toliet plunger, shoe, flip flop, dvd case, and air freshener spray... New creative tactics everyday!

Have no mercy for the hobos... Ive killed six around my bed already or booking underneath my bed. And weve only lived here two weeks... Getting ready to posion their entrances, set up traps, and plaster holes in the house.... Have no mercy for the MFers!!!

a certain element of surprise...

I am once revisited by an old familiar feeling. Even though a different circumstance has prompted it, I recognize it imediately.

The best metaphor is as follows:
Before digital cameras were widely spread, and i was finally old enough to be trusted with a camera all by myself, I would spend a good deal of time taking pictures of friends and my cats. Sometimes letting a friend take shots of me. If you know me well... These were thought out pictures and somewhat artistic. Once again, back in those days it was cheaper to wait almost a full week to develop a roll of film (unles you did it yourself of course).

From the moment i sealed the roll of film in its package and sliped it into the box to the moment i returned to the store... There is that time period where I was left to envision what is to come and reflect on the pictures i took and hopefully what the end product will be.

I dont know if other minds function like mine, but i tend to stretch my imagination and forget such flaws because of the intense excitement for the day when my masterpiece is revealed. Even though I have ants in pants to see the photos i love the time to anticipate, fantasize, and dream about these photos potential. And no matter if i hate the pictures or absolutely love them, the day i open my finished product that feeling that i enjoy so much dissipates.

The first time I ever felt this feeling was about a boy. I had a crush on him for a good three years before I ever made an advance. I knew him from theatre and he was from a different town and older. To make a long story short- we both confessed our crushes to one another but nothing happened. I remember the night when i knew things had fizzled out... I was sleeping on my best friends trampoline in a sleeping bag literally waiting for a shooting star to wish upon. THAT element of surprise was gone and i knew the end result.. We werent going to happen. Lucky for me, two months later he came out of the closet and weve been best friends even since. Even miles away (he now working for Tommy Hilfiger in New York, NY) I still consider him a close friend and miss him dearly now that ive returned to our childhood theatre troupe.

Anyway, to get us back on track... Ive welcomed this surprise/anticipation feeling again but by a different source.

I have callbacks this Sunday for Meet Mein St. Louis. Originally there was no way in hell I wanted to do it.. With school and work, i didnt want to try. (In fact, i thought they were last Sunday... And i just skipped! Lol). I even prepared a list to give my director: 1. School, 2. Work, 3. I need to take acting classes- i dot want to be a risk and limit my characters potential, 4. Im already teaching voice lessons for the theater, 5. Gas... The theater is in Pullman, i live in Moscow! 6. Lastly, but pretty important- i dont want to be that one reoccurring face in recent shows and since Im Daddy Warbucks secretary in the current show, people will recognize me.

Now, barely a week later and i've watched the movie three nights in a row and an additional time with commentary. Even worse, I have my heart set on a specific character when Im actually called back for two. I have even started to get territorial even though I know that the casting (if it doesnt please me) wont kill me! Im a big girl now and i can take rejection. Im just having the time of my life imagining what itd be like to be Esther Smith at 3151 Kenzington Avenue.

But it gets juicier.

Jason is called back for the boy next door. (aka Mr. John Truitt). Actually, he's called back for both boyfriends opposite the roles i am called back for. Which is super exciting and intensifying this feeling. Which drives me bonkers with anticipation.

The downfall is I think height is against Jason and I... And i seem to be taller than most of the Roses who are called back and Esther is younger than Rose. Just as well, the partner of the director keeps calling Jason the boy next door... Which places me respectfully as Rose. (if height matters). Even if Jason and I are opposite other actors I think it will be fun and defintely a growing experience.

Ironically, I think I'll have a hard time swallowing the news of someone else being Esther... Becuase her songs are to die for!!

And yes, it will be hard to watch Jason kissing someone else... But it will be hard because i really care about him. Which is another fulfilling emotion. I also have learned from experience to stay in the scene and not identify with the character as "my boyfriend" and jealousy doesnt seep in. However, Jason will not have an easy time with that situation.

But alas... I will indulge in this dream world of possibilities until the casting is posted. Regardless, life will go on... But until then I will imagine my ideal casting.


























































Sunday, July 10, 2011

Disclaimer

My conscious has been poking at me and I realized I have this horrible fear i might put a bad taste in your mouth after reading my posts. I want to avoid this. I used to not be self conscious of my thoughts/actions offending other and I cant quite pinpoint where this guilt is coming from now. Quite frankly, it could be that I was recently immersed in a very dense mormon/conservative population therefore my concept of appropriate was alarmingly... An extreme. As a result I feel this disclaimer is absolutely necessary because I have been exposing my opinions.

Warm regards.

Summer Realization No. 5-

Culture

I have lived in Moscow the majority of my life and for the mOst part I have loved it. However, I am just now discovering a new little subculture. Deep down somewhere, I knew it was there but I didnt realize to the extent of how it functions.

The other day I went swimming with some friends at the Grove pool. For starters, I swore that i would not be in a bikini at ALL this summer until I get back in shape... But peer pressure exists and the cool water was welcoming so I bit my tongue. Had tons of fun right. So the next day Jason wanted to do it again. We went at an earlier time and holy heck when we arrived and picked out our spot I felt like Mel Gibson in What Women Want when he just begins to hear The girls thoughts and he looks like hes about to have a seizure... Yeah that was me.

I literally had to sit down and try to think for a second. You see these kinds of girls on TV making a fool of themselves or you see these lookalike jersey shore dudes ... Elsewhere. Not in Moscow. Now dont get me wrong, I am a very accepting person of all different lifestyles hut yes, i guess i do discriminate against the superficial ones. The thing is- yes, these girls are prettier than me, yes they are in really good shape, and yes they give off the impression that they are living the life.. and with what Im about to state about them one could conclude that I am jealous of them and wish to live their life. Surprise! I never could. Their priorities are out of wack. I dont spend hours a day working out because i work three jobs. Even tho my parents will help me with rent I find great pleasure and satisfaction in buying something when it is with my own money and i dont have to go running to daddy for money. I also love doing something with my life and i feel accomplished after a good week of work. And lastly, Why lay by a pool when you can swim?

I have never been the shallow superficial type. I go out in public without makeup on and even in sweat pants. Gasp. And i love it. Of course i love getting all dolled up and of course i Enjoy being a girl. But i guess my idea of beautiful isnt blonde hair, orange skin, and a vocabulary of "like" and backstabbing other girls. I coudnlt live that life so this year will be a test of my true tolerance level.

There you have it. I miss Pocatello's social atmosphere and the beautiful people who are there. Its more fitting for me then this "party-spoiled" vibe up here. I would trade all the girls at ISU, yes even the obnoxious athletes who lived below me, for all the girls up here... Because those girls are indeed more beautiful in every way. I am of course speaking of the inside...
but I am also speaking of the outside. Where is the beauty in blending in and looking like another face in the crowd? All my friends from ISu stand out in a crowd. And my sorority encouraged diversity. Everyone here looks like everyone else. Barf. At least in this subculture, by the pool.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Summer Realization No. 4

So I finally had a good talk with the boyfriend and he no longer thinks this blogging of mine is stupid. No offense to any other blogger, please. This was the guy in his junior year in high school, when we first met and starting to date-ish, he didn't have an email. Lakota and I made him get a facebook and he STILL thinks it's a little stupid but he keeps it so he can be friends with his baby's momma and see pictures of his beautiful little girl.  I am pretty sure he didn't get an email until ISU gave him one...

We had this talk on a bike ride around the neighborhood, talking of a lot of serious manners for some reason, but it eventually blogging came up. Blogging doesn't necessarily bother him but he definitely doesn't understand why I do it... and as a result, if he ever catches me blogging I get a heavy sigh and a, "Blogging.... reaally?" It wasn't a problem between us but we were definitely not on the same page until our bike ride.

It turns out, I am also using this blog as an outlet to begin writing again. Since high school, my writing has been very scarce and nonexistent. And that really scares me. I love nothing more than taking the time to organize my thoughts in an eloquent matter, putting it down on paper (or in this case, typing haha), and getting the satisfaction of rereading it later.

In my junior year especially, I could sit down with a notebook and write poetry for hours... no writing blocks, no rhyming gimmicks, no problems. But now, I feel as if I have to have an enormous euphoric life changing experience and even then... grabbing a pen and writing it down will be too much work, or I lose my mojo by then.

Don't get me wrong- I have had my perks over the years to get my juices flowing... for instance with my current job I get to write a 15 to 20 minute script for my kids at camp. As limiting as that may seem, (I have to stick to either Disney or Broadway ideas), when the kids learn the blocking, their lines, the music, and perform it on the last day of camp it is just as satisfying, if not more so, than rereading my work.

I also had an Eng 100 class at ISU last spring that I ate up. I loved that class so much that I was pretty much BFF's with the professor and a year later she still remembered my name and we would chat it up whenever we saw each other on campus.

So there you have it. I' am also blogging to at least be writing something. Besides poetry, I would write more stream of consciousness pieces anyway so blogging is perfect. And that's why I began my Summer Realizations.

These pictures are my kids from the first week of camp: Adventures in Wonderland. This next week we have the last camp- Broadway,  and Annie begins.



















Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Something Special About Sundays

This last Sunday our last cat from Georgia finally passed away. I say finally only because she held on tight to each last day at the ripe old age of nineteen.

Her name was Sinatra. She was my dad's cat, he obviously named her, and she had bright blue eyes-- so the name was only fitting. She was a Siamese, therefore slightly nutty, and she found us on a Sunday.

She found us. The reason I remember it was a Sunday is because my mom, my brother, and I were all at church and when we got home that Sunday my dad had a delightful surprise awaiting us. It was a rainy day in Georgia, (surprise!), and my dad heard meowing at our front door. We had two cats at the time, Gomez and Russel (who both survived the move from GA to CA and then later passed away in ID once we moved here), so like clockwork my dad opened the door and let the cat in. To his surprise, it was a kitten. He put her in a box, gave her food, and gave her milk. 

And to our benefit, no one ever claimed her. Full of flees and ready for her first vet visit, she became part of our family. 

I say this in the fondest manner, but Sinatra was a strange cat. She became a fat cat but since she was  frightened by almost everything she was super speedy. It was rare you would see her come out from underneath my parents bed and rare that she would ever go outside. The only time she came downstairs was at night when everyone was asleep to eat. 

And if you know me at all-- I will hold cat if I want to hold a cat. Sinatra was somewhat okay with this mentality but it would usually end with her growling at me until I let her go. She would never hiss at me, scratch, or bite... but it was more likely that one would hear her growl more than her purr.

Except for my dad of course. He was the only she would let pet her. So with her last weeks we were all surprised when she would wait on the ceaderchest by my parents room and greet anybody who walked by encouraging them to pet her. We all loved the last few weeks with her because of this but we definitely all joked suspecting her eyes have gone bad so she thinks anyone who petted her was just my dad. 

However, there was a time when my dad was the bad guy. (Or my mom haha). When we were packing to move from Georgia to California ... Sinatra went missing. We packed up everything and moved out of our house into a rental before heading to Cali and we thought we'd never see Sinatra again. It was after we had given up looking for her and when she appeared in the garage of our rental house... my dad (or my mom) had packed her in one of the boxes! It was probably at least half of her fault for being sneaky. 

Once in California, her new hiding spot was in the living room behind the TV. Back then, we had one of those huge box set TV's that took up the whole corner of the living room. As a result she was safe and sound back there. And as a kindergarten/first grader when a guest drawing artist came to my elementary school and at an assembly asked, "What silly things do your pets do?" I sure as hell raised my hand... and he drew me a picture of good ol' Sinatra, sitting behind the TV. I still have this drawing and my mom framed it for me and even to this day, I still have it hanging in my room. 

Finally, arrived in Moscow ID, her hiding spot wasn't so... sneaky. Sinatra believe that if she placed herself under the covers of my parents bed that no one could find her. Even after numerous experiences of pesty children, like myself, bother her and pick her up... she still hid under those covers. Very clever, Sinatra. 

And even though for the majority of her lifetime she spent it growling at me, running away from me, hiding from me, or removing her paws when I tried to hold them... the last couple of weeks meant the world to me. She purred and meowed more than ever (with everyone) and in fact, made it difficult to stop petting her with her cuteness. 

Regardless of her strangeness, she will be greatly missed- or perhaps missed because of her strangeness. We don't know where she came from but we are thankful she found us on that rainy Sunday in Georgia and we are thankful for all the Sundays we shared with her up until her very last one. 

Rest in peace, Sinatra Stone. 


Summer Realization No. 3

 I'm through accepting limits

'Cause someone says they're so.
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I'll never know.



This isn't really a summer realization. I realized this last summer. When I got back involved with the theater. What was I doing down at ISU? Studying just voice? I really didn't know what I was doing. I was just going to get a degree. But what was I really wanting to do with it? 
It is true. You don't know how much someone, or in this case something, means to you until it's gone. And I didn't realize how much musical theatre meant to me until I went a whole year without it. 
I felt like I lost sight of who I was and where I was going my first year in a half in college. I want so bad to be a performer, but not of opera or classical music... but of Broadway shows. I NEVER once wanted to be a Music Education major... the only teaching I was interested in was a private voice studio. I cannot see myself as a high school choir director or at the collegiate level. That's not where I want to be. And I love kids... but teaching choir would not make me happy. 


It took me a good year to finally realize all of this. It wasn't until last summer when I was a Camp Instructor and director for the theater. I taught two weeks and one week, both morning and afternoon, were all under my instruction. This week's theme was called "Adventures in Wonderland" but instead of making it all about Alice, I tied together scenes and music from Wizard of Oz and Peter Pan. I had so much fun writing the script and casting all the children in their roles. Not to mention, I loved watching the kids grow and pick up all the theater etiquette, the music, and develop their characters. That was satisfying. 


It wasn't until I returned to school in the fall when the familiar feelings washed over me. I felt limited. I was not good enough. Not in my element. I felt like I was treading water, opposed to swimming. 


So that's why I transferred.
It had nothing to do with Pocatello, Idaho State, the professors... it had to do with what I wanted to do. I want to do musical theater as a career so I want my graduate degree to prepare me for that path. Alas, here I am and I'm the happiest I have been in a very long time.

Believe me, I was scared with this decision. I made leaps and bounds with my studies these past years... switching voice instructors is always a risk and really scary when things are going well. But I had opportunities waiting for me at U of I/ Moscow area and these opportunities were ones similar to what I want to do for a living. And thus far, even with new struggles with the Music Department up here, I know I have made the right decision. I'm back at the Regional Theatre of the Palouse for the second summer doing children's camps (busy, but loving it!) and I am in the upcoming production of Annie in the role of Grace, Daddy Warbuck's secretary. I'm moving in with my best friend, also a musical theater major, and I even got a real person's job that pays! Although I miss my friends and sisters like crazy-- and so far I can't stand the GREEK superficial atmosphere, I have my family here, and my kitties, and I feel at peace. Each day there is a different reminder that I did make the right decision.

"You helped me find my way
There's still so much to learn
So many dreams to earn
But even if I crash and burn ten times a day
I think I'm here to stay
I'm gonna find my way."

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Summer Realization No. 2

Not only do I believe this statement to be true, it made me realize something. 
Could this be the sole purpose of facebook?
Seriously. 
Are we really just trying to stay connected or creep on other people to make sure their life is not as fabulous as our own?
News flash.
Some friends I know are out living the life, whether it be in Seattle, San Fran, NYC, and their facebook does a miserable job of reflecting that. Could it be their lives are so freaking awesome they don't have time to worry about keeping in touch? Or perhaps they aren't photo fanatics... that could also be it. But really, I think fcbk can misrepresent the true happiness occurring in others lives. 
In return, the people who have enough time to polish their fcbk with photos and comments/statuses... are we all happy? Creeping on friends, on exes, on ex-friends... or people we barely know but in her profile picture she is wearing the cutest dress and we just get SO curious. 
I have to admit I am one of those people currently. I'm still adjusting to Moscow, being home, unpacking, cleaning, job searching, yard work... and also updating my facebook. It's not that I'm obsessed with creeping or that I don't have better things to do... I just get bored and seeing what other people are up to is an interesting distraction. And as a result... this quote made me wonder... what people display on facebook... or choose to put up... could be a very crappy depiction of how happy their lives actually are. 
Another good reason to blog. 
Takes time away from facebook. 

Summer Realization No. 1

Communication Skills.
I suck at them sometimes. Which is hilarious because I hate miscommunications and get frustrated when they occur because I feel I communicate my message very clearly.
But now I begin to second guess.
Do I not ask enough questions? That's sort of... rude.
I am the kind of person who will tell you every little detail if you ask me. Literally word vomit on your shirt. No secrets, no hiding. As a result of that, I don't ask questions sometimes because I don't like to pry...and I subconsciously assume each individual with return the word vomit. It is not because I care less, I just take statements as is. No questions asked!
I really noticed it one night at Piehole when I observed Jason getting to know one of his buddie's girlfriend. He took notice of her eating habits and asked,
"Are you vegetarian?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious... you said you didn't like bacon and .... haha don't get defensive."
"Oh, I'm not. I guess I just always ask why."
That simple conversation hit me. I don't ask why enough.

Another reason I feel like my communication skills stink is due to interacting with old friends. Sometimes the reunion takes a rough start when you're adjusting back into the groove of each other. And I've had several moments in my head where I pause and second guess the communication... did I sound sincere? were they sincere? was that rude? was I supposed to return the sentiment?

I never feel comfortable returning any kind of sentiment... not because I don't feel the same way but because I feel phony.
"I missed you!"
"I missed you too!" <--- that is SO lame! it's like, I just took your idea and added "too" on they end of it and now it's just as sincere. I think not. Even rewording still makes me uneasy.
"I missed you!"
"I know! Sunday afternoons aren't the same without you!"
Gosh, it's not because I don't feel it... I'm just awkward about it. Let me be the first to express it and then you can add the "too." Problem solved.

Lastly, I wish I had TIME to keep better in touch with pals.
"Want to hang out tonight?"
"Party at BJ's- bring your gf;)"
Really. The latter just makes one a more personal person. And I wish I was.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Transition

For what you may not know... I began this blog because of an English assignment (refer to the first post)... slightly brilliant this teacher was. However, I want to keep this blog the same but add on. So I will no longer be analyzing this book chapter by chapter or section by section. I will wrap up with a summary on the rest of the book, because I indeed did finish it, and then begin with applying what I learned to real life situations... or perhaps note my realizations.

I've struggled with the idea of blogging. I very much have thoughts and opinions but I don't always find the time to sit down and write them or type them. That scares me. I feel less creative or that my thoughts will slip away and I will forget what I have overcome or how I got where I am today. I have this thing with not repeating mistakes or perhaps inventing a new method to do something faster or better. For instance, breakups. The last one... I knew what I was doing. I was listening to my disgustingly pathetic emotions and I knew that I didn't want to get back together with him. I knew that once we were back together and I was less emotional I would remember why we didn't work in the first place and how unhappy I was. I also knew the system. I would cry, uncontrollably, as everything reminded me of him... and I would take sleeping pills the first couple of nights and I would get up unbearably early to go on walks with my mom. I also knew I would be helplessly cynical. Not to mention breakups ALWAYS seemed to occur in the summer which meant I was definitely sleeping in between my parents every night and the birds chirping in the morning sometimes remind me of loneliness. HOWEVER, each breakup-- I've gotten better. Less crying. Less sleeping pills. More realistic self talk which eventually turned into, "you know you're just emotional... this all will pass." And yes, I have definitely improved my breakup grieving process each time but regardless, the pain itself is inevitable-- so don't think I'm dodging that too.

Excuse my tangent. My point is- I don't plan on being a blogger so everyone can see all my awesomely cool thoughts and see how great I think I am. That's one of the stigmas I think some bloggers have developed... which I realized was my biggest roadblock with continuing this blog. INSTEAD I am writing blogs so I can reflect back on my thoughts and see what progress I've made. I also type faster than writing... and I don't like my handwriting so keeping these thoughts in a journal sounds way too hard.

And the theme is realization.