Stupid and Angry

I'm angry today and feeling stupid now.

Let's say your internet company calls you up and says, "Your internet isn't working, we'll send a new router to you and you'll have it in 3-5 days."  And a week and a half goes by and you don't have the new router yet, so you call them back and say, "I thought you were going to send me a new router.  Has it shipped yet?" And they tell you, "Oh, we issued a new router but there was something wrong with it so your account is on hold."

"Why is my account on hold?"

"There was something wrong with the router."

"What?"

"Please hold."  *muzak*  "Okay, we've located a working router and taken your account off of hold and you'll have it tomorrow."

"Groovy, thanks."

So tomorrow comes and they sent the new router to your mom's house instead of your house.  So you call the delivery company and ask them to change the address (since your mom was smart enough to refuse the package) and they process your change of address request so that your router will be delivered to where you are between normal delivery hours the following day.

Except, the delivery guy shows up an hour late.  You've already left because you had other commitments.  You're hoping he'll not actually deliver your router since you're not there to receive it and will try again the next day but no, the tracking information for the delivery says he delivered it and left it outside the front door an hour after the front door is locked for the night.

So you hurry in the next morning, hoping to find your router waiting for you outside the front door, but it's not there.  It's not in the hallway.  It's not blowing down the street.  Your router is nowhere to be found and all the delivery company can say when you call them is that they don't know where it is, either, since the delivery guy said he left it at the front door.  And at this point, you've been without interweb for two weeks and it's getting ridiculous and you're frustrated and angry.  So you call your internet provider back and tell them that the delivery company lost your router and they need to run a track and trace on it and they need to disassociate the serial number of that router from your account since it was never in your possession and you don't know where it is and you don't want to be held responsible for something that the delivery company lost.  Your internet provider reports that router lost and after quite a bit more hassle, agrees to overnight another router to you, shipped to where you will be the next day when you will be there, because this whole thing is just a freaking mess at this point and you're freaked out and angry and you've been a model internet customer for a really long time and I'm sure they're pissed off that one of their routers is now lost, too.

And then, ten minutes later, your neighbor knocks on the door with your router that was delivered to him last night when the delivery guy showed up an hour late.

So I'm angry.  And frustrated.  And feeling stupid.  If the delivery company had just said they left it with my neighbor instead of at the front door, I would be in possession of my package now and all would be good.  As it stands, I have to camp out at home tomorrow until the delivery guy shows up with the replacement for the replacement for the replacement because someone got frisky and messed with my account in the first place.

And I will freely admit that maybe I should have waited a bit before completely freaking out on the delivery company and "internet service provider" (this has nothing to do with my interweb - it's an adjacent metaphorical story), but wouldn't you?  If sensitive information was supposedly left somewhere in the open where it then obviously wasn't?

I could use some happy today.  I could really use some happy.  I don't like feeling stupid and angry.  I don't like yelling at people on the phone.  I'm sure they are all very nice people who are just trying to do their jobs but when they can't answer my questions or provide reasonable solutions to my problems, I get frustrated and start to yell.  I don't like that.  I'm sorry if you are one of the people I yelled at today.  You didn't deserve that.  And if it helps at all, I'm mad at me, too, for not just waiting two hours to see what else would develop (even though I feel justified in my irritation at the incorrect information given to me).

So I'm sorry that I'm stupid and angry today.  I'm going to go try to find some happy now.

Yeah, You Don't Need to See That

I was cast in a couple of plays that open in January (yay!) at the theater where I took all sorts of classes about a year ago (yay!).  For the most part, I am very excited about it.  It is an evening of short plays, six in total, and I appear in two (which doesn't happen often - they don't like to double cast these shows because they want as many people working as possible).  I really enjoy both scripts and both directors and both writers and both casts - I think it is going to make for a really fun night of theater.

In one of these shows, though, I will be wearing clothing that a woman of my age and body type really has no business wearing.  That's kind of the point.  And on the one hand, I know it's a sort of sight gag (not quite the right term, but I can't think of a better one), and I'm totally on board for that.  Having been a costume designer, I know that the clothes do a lot to tell the story of the character and when I'm only on stage for three pages, there's a lot of story that needs to be told in not a lot of time, so whatever the costume can do to help is great.  But on the other hand, I have body image issues.  I think we all know this by now.  I think we also all know by now that I don't have washboard abs or a cute, pert little rear end.  I'm curvier and squishier than that.  I take comfort in the fact that my cat likes to sleep on my curvy, squishy tummy.  And I try to be an advocate for non-lollipop women in the arts to get more screen time, so to speak, so this would seem to be a great opportunity to showcase an extremely talented woman with a less than Hollywood-perfect physique.

But it's still freaking me out a little that I will be seen wearing...that.  Like people will love me less if they see my exposed, fish-belly white, curvy, squishy tummy.  Or like they will be so blinded by the stark whiteness of my legs that have not seen the light of day in years that they won't be able to focus on my performance.

I will do it.  I will wear that costume on stage and I am sure that once I am in the scene, I won't even be thinking about it.  I usually don't, once I'm in the scene.  The anticipation of it is freaking me out a little.  Almost motivating me to stop eating for the next two weeks and do lots of crunches, but I know that doing that would then fly in the face of the aesthetic of the piece.  That wouldn't be true to the character or the director's vision or the writer's vision.

Anyway.  I hope people come see these shows and enjoy them.  I hope people are able to focus on my performances instead of my tummy.  Though if you do come see them and stick around to talk to me after, I may need you to tell me that I'm pretty and you still like me.

Maybe.

Big Happy, Little Happy

I dream big.

I think anyone who knows me at all knows this by now.  I can't help it - it's what I do.  It could be an overactive imagination or some coping mechanism for dealing with disappointments in the real world, but I dream big.  I dream of the day when I no longer have to worry about money.  I dream of the day when all I have to do is be an artist.  I dream of finding my life partner.  I dream big.

Thing is, the big things don't happen very often.  That's why they're the big things.

Often times, I find myself getting annoyed with the fact that the big things don't happen often.  I know I've posted before that I sometimes feel like I need that "blow your face off" exciting thing to happen - like I'm owed some enormous debt by the Universe.  I'm sure that's not true, but sometimes it feels that way, and then when all of the other little annoyances in life pile on top of that, I get grumpy.

What I need to remember is that there are a lot of "little happys" that happen all of the time.  Getting a hug from my niece.  Snuggling with my cat.  Making someone laugh.  I think I'm usually pretty good about recognizing these things and appreciating them for what they are.  I was on the train not too long ago (I think it was when I was in New York) and this guy on the train sat next to me and ate these sour candy straws one by one out of their little package and it struck me as so beautiful that this man was enjoying his sour candy straws on the train that I almost started crying.  So I think I'm good at recognizing the "little happys."

This time of year, though, is one wherein we're sort of taught that the big happys are supposed to happen.  Movies and television shows pump us full of the idea that the holidays are magic and magic things happen just in time for Christmas.  And when they don't...it can be disappointing.  When the object of your affection doesn't suddenly pull you under the mistletoe for a quick kiss that you know in the movies means the start of a long, beautiful relationship.  When the Christmas bonus doesn't happen at all.  When you discover that all of the little holiday treats you've been enjoying really weren't calorie-free and you don't fit into your favorite trousers anymore.  It can be easy to be grumpy.

But I got a little happy today.  Maybe even a medium-sized happy that came with a nice side of ego boost.  So I'm going to smile for a little bit and maybe even hope that it does snow because the world looks pretty when covered with new snow and I got enough little happy today to let me enjoy that.  So go enjoy some happy - big or little - today.  Maybe even spread it around.  Today is a good day for happys of all sizes.

Another Day, Another "Thanks Anyway"

An actor's live is full of rejection.  I knew that going in, and anyone else who considers this career path should know that. For every fifty auditions you go to, you may get one role.  It is the odd lucky streak when you get to work consistently.  Even amongst our big movie stars - from the time a movie is shot to the time it is released can be a period of anywhere from six months to two or three years.  So when you don't see someone in anything for a while, just imagine how long it has actually been since they worked.

But I digress.

An actor's life is full of rejection, for all sorts of reasons.  This morning, I got another, "You were great, but we're going another direction" email.  On the one hand, I like that theater companies are sending these emails now.  It used to just be if you didn't hear from them within about a week, you cross that one off your list.  At least now they let the non-cast people know they weren't cast so we can stop thinking about it.  That's nice. But it is still disappointing to not get to work on certain projects.

Which brings me back to my feeling that I need something to happen in my life that is so amazing it blows my face off.  I feel like I need to define that a little better, because I am surrounded by lots of little things that go right and are lovely and I am thankful for them, but none of them blow my face off.

I have an amazing family and some really wonderful friends.
I love it that my apartment has been warm so far this year.
I love it that my cat is super snugly.
I'm thankful when I find parking on the street so I don't have to pay for parking at work.
I'm thankful that I have one of the all time great heads of hair.
It still makes me smile every day that I get to drive a little green bug.
I have been getting a lot of compliments lately on this one ring that I wear that I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull off in the first place.

All of these things are amazing and humbling and they make me smile and I am thankful for them on a daily basis.

The thing about the "blow my face off" thing is that I feel like it needs to be a game changer.  It could start with something small, but it needs to produce some big end result.  It would be best if it was also surprising.

For example, I got a phone call from a theater company with a bit of a reputation for putting on good theater, inviting me to come audition.  That's pretty cool.  Didn't blow my face off, though, because unless I get the part, nothing really changes.  Now, if I get the part and we get really good reviews, that could be a bit of a game changer and maybe it will turn into the blow my face off thing, but it isn't there yet.  For now, it's just really groovy.  I do appreciate the awesomeness of some cool random thing in my day - like when I get to see a really amazing sunset, or when a puppy I've not met before licks my face - but my face is still in tact.

What I would really like, in terms of my face being blown off, is, like I said, some surprising game changer.  David Tennant showing up at my door with a cupcake for a chat.  Someone deciding to pay my rent for me one month (or one year).  A significant bonus at work.  Finding my life partner.  Suddenly waking up twenty pounds lighter.  Some movie producer using one of my songs in a blockbuster film.  Landing a role on the BBC.  You know - the big goals.  Not the daily awesomeness that surrounds me.  I love the daily awesomeness.  I'd just like to mix it up a little, you know?  Because there's a lot of daily crap, too.

So anyway.  Someday.  Someday my face will be blown off and I won't know what to do with myself.  But it will be amazing.

Tired and Ready to Move On

I've been thinking for a couple of weeks now that I want to make a vlog about this, but I just have yet to sit down and do it. So I'm writing about it, too, because it's sort of important to me and I don't want to forget about it. I may also need help sticking to it, but here goes.

I still fit into my high school prom dress.

I have told a couple of people this tidbit and their jaws kind of drop, like, "Oh my gosh, you're so lucky that you're still the same size you were in high school!" Thing is, it's not a tiny dress. I've never been the sort that fits into the tiny dresses. But I do still fit into my high school prom dress. Which means that even though I'm not tiny, my body hasn't changed all that much since high school.

I have spent I don't even know how much time dieting since then. I've tried Weight Watchers and SparkPeople and plain old calorie counting and some weird thing that was supposed to help me lose eleven pounds in ten days and I've tried various pills and cleanses and various workout programs and spent I don't even know how much money on gym memberships and supplements and other assorted associated crap. And for all of that, my body hasn't changed that much since high school.

Yes, there was probably a time between then and now when I was smaller than I am at this very moment. And there may have been a time when I was bigger than I am at this very moment. But the net gain/loss is about zero since high school.

The net gain/loss is about zero since high school.

So you know what? I'm done with it. Or, at the very least, I want to be done with it. I want to stop obsessing about how much ketchup I put on my soy dogs. I want to stop counting celery sticks. I want to stop berating myself for eating when I'm hungry or skipping a workout when I'm sick. I want to stop doing these insane things to my body chemistry that will ultimately end up leaving me with a net gain/loss of zero. I want to stop wasting the energy hating myself.

Now, I'm not saying I'm going to totally let myself go and let my health deteriorate. I still like going for walks, and I'll still do squats in the ladies' room when nobody is looking. I'm still vegan, so I'm still going to get my six or seven servings of fruits and vegetables a day. But I'm tired of limiting myself to twelve grapes when I want a snack. I'm tired of feeling guilty for eating! I'm sick of it. People need to eat to live. People need to eat carbohydrates for proper brain function and fats for proper nutrient absorption. I'm tired of not eating mashed potatoes because white starches aren't good for you. I'm tired of not having spaghetti for dinner because my lunch was kind of carb heavy if my body is really, really craving spaghetti. I'm tired of berating myself for having a snack at 10:00pm when I get home after a show and my stomach is growling. I'm tired of restricted calorie diets that leave me grumpy. I'm tired of hating myself for my food choices which are 80% of the time very healthy.

There are those who would argue that as an actor, I am acutely aware of things like this and that there is extra pressure on me to look a certain way so I can get certain types of roles. Thing is, I have come to the conclusion in the last year or so that I wouldn't get those roles anyway. I'm not an "ingenue type." I never have been. The closest I got to an ingenue type role was one I played in college because the girl who was originally cast got really sick and they needed someone to fill in and as the costume designer, I already knew the whole show so I did it. I would never have otherwise been cast in the role of the sort of flighty girl looking for her best friend's approval of her new boyfriend. I'm usually cast as the best friend from whom the flighty girl is seeking approval. Which is fine. Those characters are much more "me." So why am I killing myself to look a certain way so I can try to get roles I'm completely wrong for? It just doesn't make sense.

And how sad that it has taken me this long to figure that out?

But I am figuring it out. Which is the good part. Thing is, I have a pretty face. And I'm not obese. I am a very healthy person - good blood pressure, good cholesterol, all of that stuff. There are men out there who find me quite attractive, just the way I am. Not all of them, but that can be said about stick-thin women, too.

Being thin won't make me smarter.

Being thin won't make me a better actor.

Being thin won't make me a nicer person.

Being thin won't increase my contribution to society.

So why do I do all of this shit to try to be thinner?

I'm tired of it. And I want to stop. I want to eat when I'm hungry and listen to my body cravings to tell me what to eat. My body is pretty smart - if I need more protein, it will tell me - and if I listen to it, I'm pretty sure I'll get what I need. I want to enjoy a slice of cake on my birthday without feeling like I've failed as a person. I want to stop getting angry when I eat a meal that is 400 calories because that is too much food to be eating in one sitting (even though I'm perfectly happy to eat a whole bag of chips in one sitting). I'm just sick of how much time and energy I waste worrying about food and exercising because the majority of it is negative energy. Really negative energy. And I would like to be done with that.

I'd just like to get to a place where my body can kind of self-regulate. So far, it seems to be working, too. I'm not spending time hating myself for eating, which is actually getting rid of some of the urge to overeat.

So I'm going to stop worrying about my cravings for Fritos. When I want Fritos, I'll pick up a bag, eat a few until I don't want them anymore and put the rest away for later.

And I'm going to stop worrying about days when I don't work out. There are days when I walk six miles, and there are days when I spend the evening curled up with my cat on the couch.

What it all works out to is I am still a healthy person, a nice person, a talented person, a kind person, an intelligent person, an attractive person and a lovable person. Regardless of what size dress I wear.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho

And so begins my work trip to Italy. I made it from my front door to the gate with detours through a Jamba Juice and a currency exchange in an hour and a half. Which means now I get to wait here two hours for my flight. But it's fine. I'd rather be early than late.

I'm nervous about this trip, in part because it is for work and people are depending on me, and in part because I don't speak Italian. I've done a little bit of research on Milan and I should be okay - its not like I've never traveled internationally on my own before. I'm just nervous. My mom thinks that's normal for overseas travel. She's likely right about that.

I should get some time to walk around while I am there, and that should be fun. Probably just what I need. I will keep you posted (kind of) and will likely have pictures and video to share when I get back. Have a good weekend!

Dream a Little Dream

I have been in desperate need of DTWAC for a while now. Maybe a month? I don't know if it started around the time my grandmother passed, or if it has anything to do with the fact that I've not yet really said goodbye to my friend who passed away from ALS while I was out of town at a wedding or if any of it is residual crap from this character I'm playing at the moment who is very...put upon? But I've been feeling, in general, very put upon lately and in need of DTWAC. Or something good. And surprising. I would like someone to be overwhelmingly nice to me for a minute without me having to ask for it. And now that I've typed that, I've asked for it, which means I'm going to feel ooky if anyone is overwhelmingly nice to me in the near future. So if you have any plans to be overwhelmingly nice, hold onto them for a few weeks and get me when I'm not expecting it so I can fully appreciate it. Deal?

But then last night, I had this completely lovely dream about Liverpool. I dreamed I was visiting a friend in Liverpool and it was absolutely gorgeous there. He didn't live in the city proper, but sort of on the outskirts, so when we wanted to go into the city to go exploring, since he doesn't drive, he rode a Big Wheel. While wearing a helmet and goggles. And he didn't have to pedal it for some reason, so it actually sort of looked like he was luge-ing on a Big Wheel down this twisty, gorgeous, remote mountain road. Because in my dreams, the space between the Liverpool suburbs and Liverpool proper is mountainous and forested and gorgeous. Like the opening(ish) shot in Tucker and Dale vs. Evil (which is brilliant, by the way. If you have the means, I highly recommend checking that movie out. It is extremely funny and very well done). And I thought he was crazy for luge-ing down this road on a Big Wheel, but I was keeping up with him somehow, without being on the Big Wheel. I guess I was flying? I did get some nice aerial views of his trip down the mountain into town, so I must have been flying, and laughing most of the way, too. When we got into the city, it was the kind of place where there was a Barnes and Noble on the corner, but there was also this tiny one-room shop full of all kinds of crap and some books that served both as a store and a kind of library. He grabbed a book and tossed it to the proprietor (a nice little old lady) and said, "Sign that out for me, would you?" I have no idea what the book was, but I thought it was cute that he could borrow a book from this tiny shop. And we went to get lunch somewhere that must have been like a food court or something, and while we were eating, he kept moving closer and closer to me - he started out across the table, but with every bite, he would scooch around the table until he ended up sitting right next to me. Which was kind of nice in and of itself. Nothing unseemly happened, it was just a nice day spent with a friend in a beautiful place.

And I woke up feeling better than I have in a really long time. Not grumpy. I'm kind of amazed at how much my dreams can affect my moods. Bad dreams can leave me in a funk all day. But this good dream has me feeling somewhat optimistic today. And I have no idea where it came from. Yes, I'm traveling next week, but not to visit a friend. The scenery came from Tucker and Dale. But the happy? No idea. I guess I should just be thankful for it and enjoy the dream time I got to spend with my friend.

Keep on dreaming, kids. It's good for you.