June 14 - Humbling

I am, in general, a very smart person. The people at American Mensa would agree with me on this. But there is nothing more humbling than trying to do something you don't know how to do and having it not work for reasons out of your control or understanding.

I'm trying to learn how to program these cute little lights that you can sew into clothing, but the software that one uses to do the programming is not downloading properly, either because my computer is messing up or the software is messing up. I have tried multiple downloads, multiple versions of the software, different extractors, different browsers, and the software that I really need won't open on my computer, which is doing very little but making me feel stupid*.

I am fortunate to have a brother with computer experience, though. He is being very helpful in finding workarounds for me. I'm going to try this one more thing before I give up and call it a day. Fingers crossed!

*I know I am not stupid, I'm just frustrated that this isn't working and I don't know why. I don't like not knowing the source of my own ineptitude.

June 12 - Beauty

I was thinking about our society's standards of beauty this morning and then a friend of mine sent me a link to this article which said kind of exactly what I was thinking about, so I thought that yes, I should write about this today. I know that what I am going to say here is nothing that hasn't been said before by me and by others (and probably said better by the others), but it is still a thing and I don't think it will change if we stop talking about it, so I'm going to keep talking about it until it does. So there.

Confession time: I often think about things I would say if I was being interviewed on a talk show. It's fun to imagine, and as an actor, not completely outside the realm of things I might have to think about one day. And depending on the day, these imaginary conversations I have with interviewers range in topic from what is going on in the world to why I'm vegan to my physical appearance and how it is outside of the Hollywood norm. You know, the stuff I talk about here on this blog. And most recently, I've been having these imaginary conversations about my appearance.

Because here is the thing: I will never be a size 2. I'm pretty sure it is not in my genetic make-up to allow me to be a size 2. Maybe twenty years ago had I starved myself and worked out all of the time, I could have been, but I am not now and I don't think anything short of major surgery will get me down to a size 2. In my personal life, as I'm walking down the street to and from work, or hanging out with my friends, I am perfectly fine with the fact that I am not now, nor will ever be, a size 2. I have a face that is really nice to look at, and am physically strong enough to do most things that I want to do. I am not unhealthy. And judging by the hoots and hollers and catcalls that I get (and sincere, honest friendships that I have, too), I feel pretty safe in saying people find me attractive. The catcallers for physical reasons; my friends for reasons beyond the physical. And while I am able to say now that I am a good looking woman, I am also able to say I am a ridiculously talented actor. I mean, really. Think about the different types of characters I have played. Think about how many directors have taken the time to let me know they wish they could have used me but there wasn't a part for me in that particular show. Think about how many roles I have been completely wrong for but was cast in anyway, or that have been changed in some significant manner, so that I could play them. I think all of these things say something about my abilities. As do the comments I have gotten from directors and fellow cast members that I inspire them to step up their game. These comments are insanely flattering and completely humbling, and I treasure them. And when you put all of these things together, the only logical conclusion to be drawn from them is that I am really good at what I do. If I wasn't, my career would look very different than it does.

But I just sent out a mailing to talent agents to try to find representation. And I am almost certain that a) I will not hear back from any of them, or b) I will hear back from at least one that recommends I lose 20-30 pounds before they will represent me. Why? Because I am not a size 2.

So I was imagining myself on a talk show, talking about a project I starred in and kicked ass in despite the size of my derriere, and the interviewer and I got talking about body image things. And I very smartly (I thought) brought up the variety that is allowed, or tolerated, or encouraged, in male movie stars. Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, Philip Seymour Hoffman, James Earl Jones, Benedict Cumberbatch, Collin Firth, Will Smith, Michael Cera, Simon Pegg, Denzel Washington, Samuel L. Jackson, Nick Frost, Morgan Freeman, Sylvester Stallone, Bryan Cranston, James Franco, Chris O'Dowd - they all have different body types, different facial shapes, different hair styles, and yet all of them have played leading men. Perhaps different kinds of leading men (did Phillip Seymour Hoffman ever play a romantic lead?), but leading men nonetheless. And most of them are, or were, the best in the business at one point or another. Most of those men have won major awards for their work, regardless of their trouser size, their jawline, or their height. When we look at the women currently making big bucks in Hollywood, they're told that they have to be a size 2 in order to get leading roles. The two notable exceptions are Melissa McCarthy and Lena Dunham. Possibly Christina Hendricks, too. For most women of larger-than-size-2-size, if they do get a lead in something, it is an indie film, they are not a romantic lead, and they don't get a whole lot of work afterward (Gabourey Sidibe) other than character work. The article linked above mentioned how similar Anna Kendrick, Isla Fisher, Kate Mara, and Ashley Greene all look, and it is true. We, as a society, seem to like only one sort of woman when it comes to "who someone could fall in love with," and anyone who looks different to her is background noise. At least as far as Hollywood is concerned. We can forgive any physical difference in our men, but not in our women.

Granted, I am making gross exaggerations. There are the Lucy Lius (who is still tiny) and the Salma Hayaks (who is still tiny) and the Kerry Washingtons (who is still tiny) representing different looks. I would venture to say, though, that there are more women in film who look like other women in film than women in film who look like the women you see walking down the street every day.

I'm ready for this to change. But as I read casting notice after casting notice that includes something about "must be petite" or "small build" or "skinny and very attractive, somewhat exotic looking," I see that this isn't going to be changing any time soon.

I wonder how much of it has to do with the fantasy aspect of storytelling. Men writing about straight characters always fantasize that the man, no matter what he looks like, will end up with the supermodel. Women writing about straight characters always fantasize that the woman will be so gorgeous she could have any man she wants. I wish we could all, collectively, stop thinking this way. I wish we noticed how many of the people we treasure most in our lives do not fit the "Hollywood ideal" and how little that matters in regard to how much or why we love them. Maybe by acknowledging this, we can change the way we tell stories to include women who look like women - our moms, our sisters, our daughters - instead of making every female character description "skinny, hooker with a heart of gold."

In the meantime, I have to hope that the fact that I am a ridiculously talented actor is enough to let me play some great role that gets me on a talk show so I can publicly talk about how our attitudes towards women's bodies need to change. Because like that article said, it's great that someone as non-traditionally Hollywood as Benedict Cumberbatch is such a popular actor now. Now we just need the same allowances extended to actresses, too.

May 14 - Revolution

There is no such thing as a comfortable pair of high heeled shoes.

I don't care what you say, I don't care how many years you have been wearing high heels to train your feet and your body to do things they're not supposed to do, I don't care how much you pay for your shoes; there is no such thing as a comfortable pair of high heeled shoes.

I keep finding random cute heels that I think will be fine, and that often times are fine. For a little while. But after actually wearing them for any period of time - to a wedding, to work, to an audition - my feet end up screaming at me, begging for soft, cushy socks and sneakers. The heels I wore yesterday were not particularly high, and have the extra cushioning in the ball of the foot for comfort, but they ended up rubbing off about four layers of skin at about the sesamoid bone (where bunions form, if one has bunions - do I have a bunion?) that is still screaming bloody murder at me. And I only wore the heels at work, and I didn't walk around very much at work yesterday, so that is, what, nine or ten hours of mostly sitting while wearing heels and I'm limping today because of it? And these are supposed to be comfort-designed high heels. Really?

High heels, though they are considered a symbol of female oppression by some, are cute and fun to wear from time to time. I like being taller than normal on occasion. But I honestly think they are little more than a torture device designed to make women look a certain way and to lessen a woman's power. It is harder to walk in high heels, it is virtually impossible to run in high heels, and in order to ever get used to wearing them, one has to wear them all the time to the point her feet are calloused and mangled and hard and numb to most kinds of pain. Wearing high heels too often can lead to back problems and knee problems and foot problems. And yet we wear them so we can be a smidge taller from time to time and have kick-ass calves. Which begs two questions:

1) Why?
2) In all the time we've been doing this to ourselves, why has no body taken comfort and wear-ability into account when designing the super cute high heels?

I get it - a lot of high heels are designed by men who don't actually wear them. So they don't know that while all of those little strappy things are cute, making them out of plastic means a woman is going to have all of these hard-edged plastic bits digging into her foot all day. And he doesn't realize that while cute and dainty, putting all of a woman's weight on the ball of her foot and supporting the ball of her foot with what amounts to a quarter-inch of plywood is not really comfortable. And he doesn't realize that the cute open-toed shoes that you really can't or shouldn't wear pantyhose with, but that are lined with leather (or a leather-like material that doesn't really breathe) induce foot sweat, which induces stickiness, which induces chafing, which produces blisters. And he doesn't get that while the heel of a shoe needs to narrow a bit so it will stay on a woman's foot, the joints in a woman's ankle need to move in that general area, too, so making that part of the shoe really stiff will lead to chafing and blisters, as well. And he doesn't get that pointy shoes are just ridiculous because nobody's foot is shaped like that.

So here is what I would like to do. A lot of people, once they become rich and famous and have all sorts of disposable income, start a business of some sort. Some sell perfumes, others clothing, other food stuffs. I would like to put money into shoe research and development. Make shoes out of flexible, breathable materials that don't make you look like a hippie. Change the design of high heeled shoes to encourage a more even weight distribution so that the wearer is not walking en pointe all day. Offer support and cushioning where it is needed. Place straps where they don't cut up the foot. And with any luck, even make them affordable. Because everyone loves a cute pair of shoes, but nobody loves the blisters and Band-Aids that follow.

It is time for a shoe revolution! Who's with me?

March 19 - Dieting

Yes, it is going to be another blog on dieting. Sorry about that.

The thing about dieting is this: I am always convinced that the scale is lying to me. Always. Doesn't matter if the number goes up or down or stays the same, I am always convinced that it is lying to me.

Now, I know the logical reasons why a person's weight fluctuates. I even know that it is normal for me to weigh something different at different times throughout the day. So I try to keep my weighing-myself routine as constant as I can. I weigh myself in the morning before my shower, after I've used the toilet, in an attempt to get the most accurate "this is the lowest I could possibly weigh" weight. No allowances for clothing. No allowances for the lunch I just ate sitting in my stomach being digested. No cheats for the five miles I just rode on the exercise bike. Before the shower, just after I've gotten up in the morning. Makes sense, right?

But even so, I find myself doubting the number I see each morning. Today, the scale said the same exact thing that it said yesterday. I have, however, had other days wherein I stayed in my calorie range and got more exercise than I did yesterday and the scale has gone up. Whereas yesterday, I ate more fat than I have in a while (still within my range), and got less exercise than on other days, and it stayed the same. The math of the thing doesn't make sense. It just doesn't. Or, I haven't figured out the right algorithm to make my body consistently lose weight instead of going up and down all the time. Not that I'm complaining about staying the same - it's better than going up. But the same happens when the number goes down a bit. I try to excuse it by saying, "Well, it's because I ran later in the day and then drank less water, so it's down a bit for dehydration. Tomorrow, it will be back to normal." I somehow am always able to convince myself that the scale is lying.

It doesn't help, either, that I'm trying to lose weight the healthy way - a pound or two a week. Because when I look at myself in the mirror, the change is so gradual and so subtle that I can't really see it yet. I'm down about seven pounds from when I started paying attention (three of which were probably water weight that falls off really fast any time you start dieting) and one would think that seven pounds would make for a visible difference. My clothes are fitting a bit differently. Not to the point where they are ill-fitting yet, but they're not so snug. But looking in the mirror, I don't think I look any different. So it's easier to think that the scale is lying than to accept that what I'm doing is really working.

In any case, I'm going to keep at it for a while. And I apologize for any associated grumpiness that comes from this persistent thought that I'm still bigger than I should be because this piece of equipment, this inanimate object, is messing with me. I guess maybe that's the next step in the process - changing my mental image of myself to match the number I see on the scale.

Or something.

February 26 - Day 7

And then there is day seven of the diet. When your body starts to notice that it isn't getting as much food as it used to get and starts bugging you about it. Your hunger reflex doesn't shut off, even though you ate your afternoon snack alongside your lunch. You start to dream of the soda you've not had in a week, the sugar you're avoiding, the evening spent watching television eating chips and salsa.

But you're proud of yourself because last night, instead of reaching for the chips, you had celery and hummus and even though your evening was kind of busy, you walked to your appointment so you got two miles of walking in on a day when you weren't sure if you were going to be able to work out. Hooray for healthy living!

But the scale this morning went up a pound and a half from where it was yesterday morning. Even though you got exercise and stayed within your calorie/fat/protein/carbohydrate ranges.

Dieting sucks. It really sucks. I'm not going to lie and say I feel better or lighter or have more energy or any of that crap people tell you to try to get you to diet, too. Dieting sucks. It really really does. But I'm curious to know what I would look like and how I would feel if I was about twenty pounds lighter than I am now (or nineteen, according to this morning's scale; seventeen and a half according to yesterday's). I've never been small; I've never been obese. And while there are no guarantees that I will be any happier or get any roles I wouldn't have otherwise gotten if I become thinner, I kind of want to try it out and see what happens. So I'm sticking with it. I'm going to make a healthy dinner and get some exercise while I do my laundry tonight, and I'm going to try to figure out how to get some exercise in tomorrow, too. Because seriously, Scale, fuck you for saying I gained a pound and a half overnight when I did what I was supposed to. Fuck you.

Tune in next time for more of the dieting saga...

February 12 - Routine

I am, in many ways, a creature of habit. I tend to cook the same things and wear the same things and drive the same route to work and whatnot. Some sense of routine or continuity can be nice. But by the same token, I'm sick of it. I'm tired of eating the same things. I'm tired of bundling up in what feels like the same six layers of clothing every day. I'm tired of having the same conversations over and over again. 

But if the Weather Channel app on my phone is to be believed, we may see above-freezing temperatures within the next ten days, and may even get some rain, which would be a welcome change from the constant snow. It is going to feel like a whole new world when I can bring skirts and sneakers back into my wardrobe, instead of layers of knee socks and boots. It seems like a minor thing, but being warm, even warm-ish most of the time instead of painfully cold some of the time, is just about the most welcome change to my routine I can imagine right now. 

Well, that or a phone call from a casting agent. Whichever is easier.