I think my favorite part of this holiday show I'm in is that I get to play my guitar. I get to have it with me at the theater and I play a little bit down in the dressing room before the show. Last night, one of my cast mates harmonized with me on "The Boxer." Another cast mate keeps requesting "Black Market White Baby Dealer." I just love making music. I like playing songs that people like to hear. No, I'm not going to start learning all of the songs that every other cover band in the world knows. I think the charm of my covers is that they are good songs that people like, but have forgotten about, you know? When I started playing "The Boxer," the cast mate who keeps requesting "Black Market White Baby Dealer" just about melted. It was as if he hadn't heard the song in years, but it reminded him of his childhood or something. He couldn't make himself leave the room until the song was over. He tried, but had to come back and keep listening. I love that. I love that music can do that. I love making music.

Though my other favorite part of the holiday show is a song parody that I don't really get to sing. It's so twisted and wrong. I love it. Come see the show and you'll know of what I speak. It's funny.

But yeah, I love getting to play my guitar every night. And I've got a couple of gigs coming up in the near future, too, so I'll get to play even more. I honestly think one of the greastest gifts you can give someone is the ability to make their own music. Be it a guitar and lessons or a triangle or a tin whistle or voice lessons or whatever, it doesn't matter. The ability and means to make music are so precious. When I have kids, I will sing to them and play for them and help them learn whatever instrument they want to learn. I kind of hope I have a tuba player. And maybe an oboe player. I'd like my kids to play interesting instruments, but I'll be just as thrilled if they want to do guitar or piano or percussion. I'll be a little sad if they don't want to make any music at all, but I'll deal with it. Because I can still sing to them and play my guitar.

Rabbit rabbit. Holy crap, it's December.

So I've been in a funk and I've been sad and hurty as of late and I'm getting tired of it. I was thinking for a while there that what would make it all better would be if my shoes showed up. I ordered myself some cute vegan sneakers about two months ago that have been on back order forever and I'd really like them to show up sometime soon. They're really cute -- they look like Converse low tops. Black with white toes. And I've been looking forward to getting them for, well, two months. Alas, they are not here yet and the place I ordered them from isn't sure when they'll be coming in. Even they said they expected them to be in by now and they're not sure what the problem is. I'm okay with waiting for them, but I thought that coming home to a brand new pair of cute sneakers might make me feel better. No such luck.

Instead, I made a very healthy, informed decision to go to New York. Road trip! Yes, it is a long drive, but it will be so worth it. As soon as I decided that I was going, my spirits lifted through the ceiling. I'm so excited to see my friends out there. I'm so excited to eat at Teany. I'm so excited to take a road trip. I've never been to New York in the winter and what a perfect time to do it. Right around the holidays so there's lots to do. I might even bug my hostess (my wonderful, beautiful hostess who I can't wait to see) to go skating with me, even though I haven't ice skated in years. But she has the whole week off, too, so we can just bum around New England and have fun. I'm so excited. The best thing you can do for yourself when you're sad and hurty is treat yourself to something you really love. I really love to travel. I really love New York. I really love my friends out there. So I'm treating myself to a trip. I can't wait!

I'd also like to remind all of you to read Sinfest. It had been kind of meh for a while there, but as of late, it's been really good again. It's linked over on the side there as "Wonderful Online Comic" or something like that, so when this post is pushed off the screen, you still have easy access to Sinfest through my site. But check it out. It is one thing that has been making me smile pretty consistently as of late. And I need that as of late. So thank you, Sinfest. As of late.

So you're driving down the road and there's some random bit of construction going on wherein the lovely construction workers have removed a chunk of asphalt for no discernable reason from the middle of one of the lanes and then gone off to have lunch for two days. As cars approach this man-made-perfectly-rectangular-completely-unavoidable pothole, they slow down so as to not damage their cars as the wheels drop an inch and then have to come back up an inch. I assume you know of what I speak. If not, just pretend. Has anyone else noticed that more often than not, the drivers who most gingerly pass through such a construction dilemma are the drivers of SUVs? You'll get a Jeep Cherokee cruising down the road, going at least 15 miles over the speed limit, who comes to almost a full on stop to gently roll into the hole and back out of it again, before taking off at rocket speed to make up for the lost time. Hey, fuckstick. Your car was designed to handle shit like that! I know you've seen the commercials where they take the SUVs off-roading so they're covered in mud and bouncing up and down and taking some real serious abuse. You think it can't handle a one inch divet in the road? Are you afraid of spilling your coffee? Why the fuck did you buy an SUV if you're not going to drive it like it's an SUV?

Dumbass drivers.

I'm done now.

So on the up side, I'm not thinking about fucknut this time. I'm not wishing that things had worked out between he and I or that they will work out someday and I'm not fantasizing about how wonderful things were or anything like that. I think that's step in a positive direction. That was not an ideal situation and I know that now. Fully.

On the down side, I'm not really sleeping and I haven't been hungry for the past couple of days. My stomach is all in knots and my energy is low. And I'm kicking myself for being such a fucking idiot. I said all along that it would only end with me getting hurt and it has. You gave me up really easily and that hurts, too. I guess it's my bad. I knew I was going to be hurt and I let myself go there anyway. And while it would be really nice to say that I never want to try this with anyone again, I know that's not the case. I know this just wasn't the time to try that. I know you weren't the person to try it with. I knew it before, but I wanted to believe that it was because you were so good at saying exactly what I wanted to hear. Maybe you meant it on some level, I don't know. But as cliche as it sounds, actions do speak louder than words. You didn't mean any of it the way I wanted you to mean it -- your behavior told me that every day. And I can't just sit around and be hurt anymore. I just can't. So I won't sleep for a few days. And I won't feel like eating for a while. And I'll show up and smile and try to pretend that everything is okay because you are the last person I want to know how badly I'm hurting. You don't get that satisfaction.

One step closer to healthy. Never easy, always a good thing.

I intended to get a lot done this week since I wasn't at work and I did almost none of it. But I got a few things sorted out in my head and I guess that makes it all worth it. Because truth be told, I am a good person. A worthwhile person. And I shouldn't sell myself short, especially when I know I'm doing it. Yeah, it hurts, but it's something I have to do to be able to respect myself. Because in the long run, it only really matters what I think of me.

Ugh. I'm exhausted. Let's talk about something stupid. Like the fact that I totally geeked out seeing Tim Curry in Kinsey. Very good film, by the way. I had no idea he was in it and I literally jumped when I saw his name in the credits. And then to see him on film...I can't wait until January 11 when I get to see Spamalot. He has the best smile ever. Not in that "Oh, he's so dreamy" way. More in a "That transforms his whole face and could mean any one of a million things" kind of a way. Best smile ever. Dream job for me: Be in a Tim Burton film opposite Tim Curry. Then I could die.

I'm sorry, but I need to sing the praises of tofurkey for a minute. It's really just so yummy and so satisfying. One of my omnivorous cousins tried a bite of my tofurkey yesterday and she thought it was really good, too. It's got stuffing in the middle and you cook it in vegetable broth and serve it with vegetables...it's a complete balanced meal all wrapped up in a little ball of soy protein. I've heard it's also really good deep fried, but as I don't really have the equipment to deep fry anything, I haven't tried that yet. So yeah, to the people who invented tofurkey, thank you. You've kept my tummy happy for the last year and a half, and will continue to keep my tummy happy for many years to come.

Things that I am thankful for:

My family. Sure, we have our oddballs. Hell, I'm one of them. But this is a group of quality people. When they ask you how you are and what you've been up to, they actually want to know and they will actually take the time to listen to what you say. They're just...great people. It's hard to describe; you'd just have to meet all of them.

My friends. You guys keep me from being alone. Which is, apparently, a good thing.

My cat. He brings me so much joy. I love having him in my life.

My house. I'm comfortable here in just about every way a person can be comfortable. This is literally my little corner of the world and I love it here.

My job. As much as I complain about it, it pays the bills.

My talents. The fact that I can express myself in so many ways keeps me from going ballistic because my day job is so dull.

My brain. It serves me well.

I think those are the main ones. There are a lot of little things I am thankful for, too, like indoor plumbing and heat and my guitar and Trader Joe's and stuff, but those are the main ones. If I had nothing more than family, friends, cat, house, job, talent, I would still consider my life to be very rich. Overly rich. I am blessed and for that I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody.

Okay, so I got my hair cut today and it's really cute. As in, I feel really cute. Kind of sexy, kind of mysterious. I feel like I should become the kind of woman who wears skirts all of the time and completely impractical shoes. But I like it. Even though I had to trek through icky rainy snowy windy conditions on my way to and from the salon and then on all of the errands I had to run afterwards, I still like my hair. I can't wait to see how nicely it will hold up in good weather. I'm just so sassy, I can't stand it.

I also don't know whether or not I'll get to post tomorrow, but just in case I don't, have a safe and happy Thanksgiving everyone. Enjoy your turkey or tofurkey and all the trimmings and enjoy the time that you get to spend with your families and friends. We all have differences and we all communicate differently and we all want different things, but I'm sure you can find one thing that you have in common with your family members that you can talk about and connect with them about. And hey, that's better than sitting there feeling uncomfortable all afternoon, isn't it? So happy turkey day. Make it the best you possibly can.

And thanks to all of you for being in my life, in the strange way that you are, being readers of my journal. I love the fact that you are there. So thank you.

I know it's distasteful to brag, but I really like my new song. I want somebody else to hear it, gosh darn it! But the only one who might listen to it outside of an actual show is the person it was inspired by and that would be kind of weird. For me to just stand there and sing this acapella song, knowing that this person is listening to every word, wondering if this is actually how I feel and so on and so forth. I can't wait for the seventh so somebody else can hear this song.

You know, there are a lot of people out there who are a lot more messed up than I am. Spend one day watching talk shows and you'll see that it is true. But really, even I'll admit that. With all of my faults and little foibles and imperfections, there are a lot of people out there who are a lot more messed up than I am. Maybe it's not so strange to think that other people might like to hang out with one of the less messed up ones. Meaning me.

I wrote a new song this morning. It's kind of an R&B or bluesy thing and thus far, it is acapella. It is definitely not a guitar tune. Maybe a slide electric, but not really. It just needs a beat behind it, I think. And I'm really excited about this song because it is completely unlike anything else I have written. Somebody else will probably hear it and tell me I sound like some existing artist who I've never heard of and that's okay. I like this song. I'm excited to "play" it out sometime in the near future. It kind of captures all of the little hurts and contradictions and makes me feel better about them. Because it is the little hurts that will kill you. And they do and you can let them or you can get them out of your system in one way or another. Hopefully in a manner that is not destructive to yourself or anyone else. Me? I write songs. And write in here. Because the little hurts keep coming and there's nothing you can do about them.

Happy Monday, right?

A blank page, a million words, and none of them feel like coming out. Could I be content today? Imagine that.

Imagine, if you will, a very small critter that is mostly hands and feet. It could just be two hands and two feet, but each hand and each foot is at least twice the size of the little critter's body. Now imagine that this critter lives in your lower abdominal region and once a month puts on it's cleats and spiked gloves and goes romping about on your intestines in a fashion reminiscent of the Broadway smash hit "Stomp!" You might now have some incling of what it is like to be a woman with PMS.

I couldn't stand up this morning. At least not upright. I had to stumble out of bed into my bathroom where I took a handfull of over the counter pain medication pills and went back to bed to wait for them to kick in. About a half an hour later, I was close enough to good that I could take a shower and come in to work, but I'm still crampy. It sucks. Yes, I know this means my body is working the way it is supposed to, but come on. As if the pain of child birth wasn't enough, we have to put up with this, too? Yes, men have a particular region which is very sensitive and if mistreated, can cause them to see stars and pass out. However, that is only if that region is mistreated. Women get this every month, whether or not we want it. Granted, it's not this bad for some women. Hell, it didn't used to be this bad for me. But does that make it right? Does that make it fair? I know, I know, life isn't fair and I just have to deal with it. Fine. But I'm buying stock in the over the counter pain medication company because this is ridiculous.

Okay, time for another list of happy things in my life.

The Spongebob Squarepants movie opens tomorrow. I have never in my life seen an episode of Spongebob Squarepants, but somehow, the idea that he has a movie that is opening tomorrow brings me great amounts of mirth. I'm also glad that I just used the word mirth.

Karoke. Specifically live band karoke. You actually feel like a rock star doing it. And seeing as the band doesn't know a whole boatload of songs (they probably know 75 or 100, but compared to the 6,000 I'm used to seeing at karoke bars, it's a rather limited selection), you have to do songs you might not ordinarily do. And it's so much fun. I think if I go next week, I'll do "Head Like a Hole" by Nine Inch Nails. And it's been really good for my ego lately, too, because I get all kinds of comments and remarks from total strangers who like hearing me sing, even if it's something totally ridiculous like "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. Hell, this random woman bought one of my demo CDs at karoke on Tuesday night because she liked my voice. So yeah, karoke is a good thing for me right now.

Owen. Of course. You knew that was coming. But he's turned into a lap cat now. He's so cute in his routines -- when I get home, he needs some attention in my room, be it play fighting or just some ear scritching. Then later on in the evening, after he's had a nap, he likes to crawl into my lap for some very focused mom-time, including more scritching and sometimes some shiatsu massage. That's the one where you pat the person down with cupped hands, right? I do that to Owen and he loves it. He's such a little freak show, but he's my little freak show and I love him.

I'm part of a theater company. Which means the last show I did and the show I am about to do, I didn't have to audition for. Yay! And I think I get to play my guitar in this upcoming show. Yay! And I may get to just sit on stage and laugh for two minutes in this upcoming show. Yay!

It is once again tofurkey season.

My skin is looking really nice lately. I switched products and I have very soft, even, rosy skin on my face now. The paleness is a little more obvious because a lot of the redness from old acne has gone away, but it's not a deathly pale anymore. It's a porcelain pale and I think it's really pretty.

Green and white teas. I'm drinking so much tea these days, it's really funny. And I think it has shrunk my stomach -- I don't have the appetite that I used to. Which is fine with me. Not the ultimate goal, but a kind of nice side effect.

More and more people are hearing and enjoying my music. We're not talking millions, or even thousands, but we are definitely talking about people I've never met. It's somehow easier to believe a compliment from a total stranger than it is to accept one from someone you're close to -- you know the stranger isn't trying to get anything from you. At least in this kind of a scenario, I find that to be true. The people in my immediate circle of friends could very well just be humoring me, you know, because they are my friends and they love me and want to support me. They could be totally sincere, too, and it's my problem that I can't always tell the difference. But some random person who heard a song of mine because one of their friends played it for them and then contacts me, wanting their own copy of my demo disc -- there's something powerful in the statement that makes. Makes me think I could actually be a musician.

I'm not doing that silly film, which frees me up for other projects.

My honorary brother will be in town next week and I will get to see him and hug him.

I have some really amazing friends who I love very much. I hope they know that.

I got to see my mom twice this week. I love her very much and hope she knows that.

I'm taking next week off of work to just have some "me" time.

I still have a job, so I still have a steady income.

I will have one of my two major debts paid off in five months.

I live in not only a blue state, but a blue county within a blue state.

I might work at Wrigley Field this summer. I totally could if I want to, I just have to decide if I can dedicate the time to it. But how fun would that be to work at Wrigley for a summer?

I will get to see my whole family at Thanksgiving dinner next week. Or at least a boatload of them. I like my family. They are really amazing people.

I once again have a little bit of money in my "rainy day" account. Not a lot, but enough that I will be able to participate in Christmas this year. I've even thought of getting a little tree to put on top of my bookshelves. I've thought about putting up lights in my windows, but as Owen likes to chew on all things electrical, I might not. But it could be fun to have a little tree. Maybe the reason I've resented Christmas so much for the past million years is that I've just chosen not to participate at all. If I build my own, simple little traditions, maybe I can actually enjoy the season.

It's been nice and balmy outside this week. I left one window open for Owen today, and I'm sure that made him happy.

Moby posted again today. He hadn't in a while and I was starting to get concerned. From the sound of it, he took the election pretty hard and I was afraid he was going to stop posting little updates because he had lost hope or something. Turns out, he's taking a little vacation and didn't have interweb access. Theoretically, he's putting out two new albums next year, too, so maybe there will be a tour involved. Please oh please oh please let there be a tour involved. I need to see another Moby show.

The song "Such Great Heights" as done by Iron and Wine. I love covering this song. I have decided that I will sing it to my children to put them to sleep, when I have children. It's so sweet and I feel very sweet when I play it.

I'm making a short, silent film for this girl who works in the coffee shop that I frequent and I feel really good about it. Nothing Oscar worthy, but I think it is going to turn out really well.

So yeah, I needed a little pick me up today. My head has been racing around in circles (most of you know why) as of late and I'm getting tired of all the craziness and uncertainty. So I needed to remember that I have a lot of good things in my life. I do have a lot of good things in my life and I deserve to have a lot of good things in my life and I am thankful for all of the good things in my life. And on that note, I think I'm going to go get some more tea. Enjoy your day!

Maybe I really can do this. How cool would that be?

Happy birthday, theater friend!

Happy birthday, Michigan girl!

And on another positive note, I blew a bunch of blood out of my nose this morning, so at least that's not in there anymore. It is a very bizarre feeling to be plugged up, yet completely dehydrated at the same time. But we all know that I'm weird, so I guess it makes sense, yes? Anyway, happy birthday to my friends. In honor of your joining the planet, I'm going to sing karoke tonight.

Vague unclear entry #97.

This may be one of the hardest but most important things I've ever had to do. I think it is exactly what I have to do. It's something I've talked about doing and needed to do for a very very long time, but it deals with issues I have had for I don't even know how many years. I've talked to various people about it along the way and they all agree that it is an issue that it completely in my head. I think now may be the time to tackle it. And this may be the best situation in which I can tackle it. It's safe and all the cards are out on the table and it is, in it's own way, non-threatening. I know I'm not making any sense. I'm trying to rationalize a completely bizarre situation and this is the best way I can do it. It is finally time for me to reconcile what I know to be true about myself with what other people know to be true about me. And I think maybe we're both right. Doesn't mean I'm not going to freak out still, but I'm going to try very hard not to throw this away without learning everything that I can from it. Sounds so sterile. Feels so...wonderful. Wish me luck.

So I'm not doing the film. I feel like an ass for giving other people so much more work to do when I know they are already stressed beyond belief, but I just couldn't do it. And I feel much better not having to worry about it anymore. I will miss the paycheck I was going to get at the end of it, but it's not about the money. I'll be able to save up for a new guitar soon anyway. This one was about my sanity. I've got too many crazy things all going on at once; I need to be in control of something. So I'm not doing the film. My apologies to the rest of the crew -- you guys are really talented and the only reason the movie is happening at all. I hope I get to work with you someday in another capacity, on another film.

And now I can take some time to just get better. I'm tired of being so stuffed up! It was really bizarre the other morning to wake up with a kind of a hangover, so I felt all dehydrated, but completely congested. How can one's completely dehydrated body produce so much phlegm? The world may never know.

I think every car owner in Chicago was out shopping today. All at the same time. Sweet jebus, you never know road rage until you actually have places to be and you are stuck in line behind seventeen people who are just out for a drive. And stores are completely different, too, when you go in for a purpose and when you go in for fun. I love the fabric store on a normal day, when you can go in and browse and find new, interesting things. You leave feeling like your soul has been energized; you have the excitement of a new project hanging over you. When you go in with a purpose and are behind that person in line, there is nothing you want more than to strangle that person.

And I'd love to write more, but the current biggest pain in my ass is getting bigger by the second so I have to go. I should have quit when I had the chance.

Somehow, Sander Kleinenberg always manages to come to town right when I need him to. Coincidence? I think so.

I'm so excited to see him spin on Saturday. I need a good night out.

When an artist does many shows in the same city over the course of several years, does he/she notice particular fans who come back time and time again? Or are they all just a blur between cities?

I look at my cat and I kind of feel for him. His entire life is these four rooms. That's it. The only time he gets a change of scenery is when I take him to the vet. Sure, he gets to have the windows open in the summer time and that's nice, but the view doesn't change all that much in between the glass and the screen. His entire life, so far, has been these four rooms. He's a pretty good sport about it. But he'll never know the joy that is live band karoke. Or a Thai massage. He'll never get drunk at a party and sleep with another cat. He'll never see the world from the top of the Sears Tower or the Empire State Building. He'll never get his heart broken. But he goes on, day to day, napping in his favorite places, eating the food that is set out for him, chewing on anything plastic within mouth range of the floor. It is, in a way, a sad existence. So in the meantime, I play with him as much as I can. And let him know that I love him and will be heartbroken when he leaves me. I hope that whereever I go in my life, he'll come with me. Largely so he can see more than these four rooms. There is so much more to the world than these four rooms. I hope he gets to see it one day.

I have too much to do and very little desire to do a lot of it. Namely, this film dealie. The other stuff, I'm all good with. If this film would just go away, I'd be much much much much much happier.

I know a lot of you out there think I only get my news from reading Moby's website. This is an incorrect statement, but you're going to believe what you want to believe anyway, and I'm sick and don't want to argue with you. I will ask, though, that you please read this. As if I wasn't feeling shitty enough already...

Okay, so I think I discovered a new drug that is even better than acid. I think I'm going to call it malneuroneium. It is perfectly safe and perfectly legal, too*. Here's how it works.

Get some random person to sneeze on you so you get his/her germs.
Let those germs fester and grow in your own sinus cavity.
Once your mucus production has reached Niagara Falls proportions, lie down on your bed.
Send your cat into the other room to eat everything except his food.
Try to fall asleep.
Get up every two hours to yell at your cat.
Hit yourself in the face with a good, solid, hardcover book to try to knock the hurting sensation out of your sinuses.
Do not blow your nose! Let the snot drip down the back of your throat until swallowing becomes more painful than an Adam Sandler movie.
Do not speak to another actual human being for two days.
Now create!

Or at the very least, talk to people. You'll be amazed at how suddenly witty you have become, and how random your metaphors come out. And the best part? You don't crash like you do with artificial substances. And the trip lasts for days. Safe, easy, effective, and you actually remember everything you created when you go on a malnueroneium trip. The non-drug of the future!

*For the record, I am not an advocate of drug usage, legal or not. I know some of you out there are going to do them anyway and I just ask that you be careful when you do so. But in all honesty, the human body is a very finely tuned machine with amazing potential and I think it's really fun to see what your body can do when it isn't artifically altered. But that's just me. So be careful in your experimentation. And someday, maybe a complete detox will be your experiment and you'll see what I'm talking about.

It's irritating because at the same time it is the most flattering, complete and total acceptance of me, exactly as I am and exactly who I am, it is also the ultimate rejection of what I am based on something I have no control over. So do I revel in the acceptance, or withdraw because the rejection hurts? I can't be the only one who gets myself into things like this. Or can I be? We've all decided that a lot of strage things happen to me...

On another note, my burn injury is peeling off and beginning to heal. It feels and looks just like my skin got uber dried out and is peeling off. The skin underneath is soft and pink and beautiful. No permanent scarring. If only everything healed so perfectly.

At what point does one have enough fans that one is forced to "be" a musician? To use that label. To dedicate one's life to making music. To make a real CD and tour with it. Twenty? Fifty thousand?

I'm still floored that people like my music. Honestly, I'm floored. I grew up thinking I had a terrible singing voice and I know my guitar skills are rudimentary at best. My mom taught me a few chords here and there, and I've picked up a few more elsewhere and I just screw around with it until I like what I'm hearing. And then I put some simple little words with it and call it a song. So how is it that I got two more requests for demo CDs from absolute strangers today? What is it about my little tunes that appeals to people? It can't be my voice, right? It can't be my amazing guitar skills. It must be my words. I have always been good at writing.

Sorry. In case you couldn't tell, I'm having kind of a down day today. Not sure why. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed about this upcoming film and very confused about my personal life, such as it is. And I haven't written anything new in a long time, so I'm feeling not quite so musician-y as of late. And then someone asks me for a demo CD because he or she found one of my songs on some music trading website and wants to hear more, or something like that. It is so bizarre. My music is reaching people I would never have touched otherwise and it is touching them. I did that. Something I created is moving other people. I feel so lucky. A fortunate cookie, just like my mom. But it's still going to take me a while to get used to the praise. I'm waiting for someone to tell me I suck, you know? I know not everyone is going to like my stuff. I'm waiting until I hit that critical mass of people that at least one of them has to vehemently dislike what I have to offer. I know those people are out there. I guess I'm looking for a little balance, is all. Too much positive makes Kitty nervous. How wrong is that?

Is it wrong to enter into a situation you know will only hurt you in the end? Is it a sign of weakness to not be able to walk away? Or is it a sign of strength to stick it out and see what you can learn from it? I honestly don't know.

So the film that I thought was never going to happen is going to happen and I have a lot of work to do and I'm kind of freaked out about it but I know I can do it but I don't want to do it today because my throat hurts and I want to just sit around and eat soup. Yeah, that's pretty much all I have to say today. Go eat soup.

I can't talk about politics anymore. I can't think about politics anymore. I'm done with it, at least for now. I want my life of ignorance back. I want to be like all of the people in the red states.

Okay, that was a bit much. But you get the point.

I'm going to talk about tea. I've been drinking a lot of it as of late. Recently, I found this lovely green/white/mint/somethingelseIcan'tspell blend that is really yummy. But the interesting part, I think, is that all of this tea seems to be shrinking my stomach. You've gotten the spam messages from various places saying "Shed pounds the Asian way!" that are advertising weight loss supplements with green tea in them, yes? Well, I guess it is true.

DISCLAIMER: I did not start drinking tea in order to lose weight. I started drinking tea because I wanted a warm beverage during the cold winter months. I am not interested in dieting or diet tips or exercise tips. I love you for wanting to send them to me, but I'm not interested. Thanks anyway.

I'm serious. I can't eat as much as I used to, and I think it has something to do with the tea. And my pants are getting to be a smidge loose on me, which is kind of a nice feeling. Better than them being too tight, which is a bad feeling. I like good feelings.

So anyway, just an observation. I like my teas and all of the happy antioxidants they pump into my body. And look! The sun is shining for the first time all week. I missed the sun. As much as I don't like getting burnt by it, it is nice to have the sun pop out and say hello. Makes things seem less dreary than they have for the past four days. But I'm not talking politics anymore, so I'm going to stop now before that thought takes on a life of it's own. Yay tea!

All those of you depressed about the outcome of the election -- go do live band karoke. There is nothing quite like it. You will feel better, I guarantee it. Music is healing and soothing. Nothing feels better than making music with other people, even if you are tone deaf and have no rhythm. Go make music. You will feel better.

And speaking of music, I've gotten some odd music-related compliments lately that I feel compelled to share.

Someone said I'm like Kurt Cobain, in that my music is interesting and innovative. I'm wondering if it means I have to stop bathing.

Someone said my version of a particular Liz Phair song is better than the original Liz Phair version. I don't know that I agree, but whether or not I do, that is one hefty compliment. He then went on to say he thinks I should get a record deal based on that song alone.

And after singing "Son of a Preacher Man" at live band karoke tonight, the bartender (who is a friend of mine, which is a good thing because if he wasn't, this compliment would be totally inappropriate) told me that his dick moved a little because my voice is so sexy. I got up again later and did "Pride" by U2 and both he and the host of live band karoke agreed that it was the best rendition of that song they have ever heard at live band karoke.

So after feeling like total ass because of the election and like a total ass because of a conversation with a friend earlier in the evening, I feel great. Live band karoke. It's the way to go if you are depressed. Oh! And drink while you are doing it. It so enhances the experience.

If you look at Moby's entries from yesterday, he ends one of them by saying, "If anyone needs us, my friends and I will be drunk for the next four years." That made me cry. I love you, Moby. Hang in there, hon.

The thing is, I don't want to have to leave my country. I love America. I love what America is supposed to stand for -- freedom and democracy and equality. I believe in all of those things and am thankful every day that I live in a country where I can hold a job and live in my own apartment and spew drivel onto the internet that anybody who wants to can read. This is my home. My family is here. My friends are here. My heart is here. I love Chicago. The skyline brings me so much joy. This city has been really good to me. I love my neighborhood. I love my country. But I don't know that I can be here for the next four years and watch my country disintegrate. I can't watch all of our personal freedoms go out the window in the name of "security," which we are sorely lacking. I can't watch as our elderly are left to fend for themselves because their social security blanket was spent on a "very successful military operation" that ended a year and a half ago, yet is still resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people every day. I can't watch as my friends continue to lose their jobs.

I know at least one of you is probably going to send me an e-mail saying that things in America have been much worse in the past. Okay, fine. But they are not good now and I don't see them getting any better and that bothers me. You can chalk it up to me being a woman or me being a hippie or whatever you want to chalk it up to. This is how I feel. And I have just as much right to talk about how I feel as any of the rest of you. I feel like I'm watching the Cubs lose again, except this time it was actually important that they win.

I do take some comfort in the fact that Illinois voted for Kerry. I do take some comfort in Obama's election to the Senate. And I do take some comfort in the fact that it was a very close race and Kerry's concession before 270 electoral votes were achieved on either side kind of means that once again, Bush didn't really "win," but that's just a technicality that will help me not lose all faith in humanity. And I guess there is some strength to be found in the ability to tough out the hard times and stick with your country through thick and thin. I'm ready for some thick, though. Can we just fast forward through the next four years and start cleaning up the mess Bush will leave behind?

Thank you, Mr. Kerry, for not dragging this out. I wish things had turned out differently. Thank you, also, to all of you who were out campaigning for Mr. Kerry. You fought a good fight.

Fuck.

I voted today. Did you?

I'd never voted before, so I didn't know what to expect. I showed up with my voter registration card, my driver's license, my passport, and a little flyer thingy that some guy gave me outside detailing who the Democratic candidates are. I signed my name in a little box, they compared it to the signature they had on file, and handed me my ballot. I waited a couple of minutes for a voting booth to open up; it didn't take long. I was happy to see so many people there first thing in the morning, though. It was by no means swamped, but there were people at every voting booth, people in line to get their ballots, and people in line to turn in their ballots. People in suits, ready to go to work. People in sweats starting their morning errands with a trip to the polls. A guy in a leather jacket and bandana who would probably never be up this early unless he absolutely had to be, but out there to make his voice heard. Little old ladies who probably won't leave the house again until Thursday. It made me happy that we were all there and that we each had an equal opportunity to cast our votes. I've been getting a lot of emails as of late, telling me what to do in case I was denied the right to vote and frankly, they had me a smidge worried. But I was able to vote with no fuss, as was everyone else at my polling place. It was nice to see our electoral process working the way it should be in at least one place, you know?

And I felt empowered afterwards. I don't know how much my vote for President will actually count, as Illinois is typically a Democratic state, but I cast it just the same. Voter apathy is what loses elections. And I'm sure my dad's vote will cancel mine out, but I cast it just the same. For the first time in my life, I felt it was important enough to stand up and let my voice be heard, so I did. Regardless of the outcome of the election, I did my part and I am proud of myself for that.

No matter who you are voting for today, please make sure you get out to the polls and let your voice be heard.

Okay, quick recap of the last four years.

1.5 million jobs lost
Millions of people without healthcare
War started under false pretenses, costing billions of dollars and thousands of lives
Largest budgetary defecit in American history
Educational funding cut
Social Security system on the outs
Some of the worst grammatical errors committed by a public speaker in decades

And so on and so forth. Do you really want four more years of this?

Please go vote tomorrow. I'm not going to tell you how you should vote, because you have every right to vote either for change or for four more years of the same. But I am asking you to please go to the polls tomorrow and let your voice be heard.

Happy Halloween!

I know, I'm a couple of hours late, but that's because I was out doing my last performance of the first non-Floss! show I have done with my theater company. And new people have been inducted into the company since I have become a member, so I'm no longer one of the new kids. I feel like a bona fide member. It's kind of cool. I'm still not sure if it is where I belong, but I know it is somewhere I can place my energy and have it be accepted.

The women in my family had a sort of women's reunion last weekend that I didn't go to because I was focused on my theatrical career. In retrospect, I wish I had gone, for many reasons, but as my mom was telling me about the weekend, I wish I had been there because it was what my family gatherings always are -- a place where you can bring anything and everything that you have to give and you can give it and it will be embraced and accepted and you will get back so much more than you can ever imagine. And the weekend was a celebration of being female. Of being a woman. I need to forgive myself for being a woman. I need to celebrate my feminity, in some way or another. Or maybe I first need to work on not resenting the fact that I am a woman. Because really, it is an incredible thing to be a woman. Now, more than ever, being a woman is a beautiful thing, and there are a lot of us out there who don't know it. Or don't appreciate it as much as we could. I find myself wishing daily that I wasn't a woman, or at the very least that my gender was a non-issue. Life would be so much easier if gender was a non-issue and I wish it wasn't so.


Fuck.

I shouldn't post when I've been drinking, or when I'm listening to Colin Hay, both of which are factors in this post and I apologize for that. I have a lot of things that I want to say, but I would rather say them in person to the persons that they need to be said. I hope I say those things enough. I hope I don't say them to the point of being obnoxious. I hope you know what you mean to me and that I am thankful every day that you are a part of my life. I hope you know how much joy you bring into my life. I hope it is okay that I tell you that. Thank you for putting up with me and for loving me anyway.

That was a lot deeper than I wanted this pseudo-Halloween post to be. I can't help that, but I apologize for it. It's a little overwhelming to be the recipient of a lot of positive energy. I feel like I need to pump a lot of it back into the universe. Thank you. And I love you for being a part of my life. And I'm stopping now because I'm boring when I'm happy. Stupidfey November. Now it's going to get all cold and snowy and I'll be miserable for the next six months bitching about the cold. But I'll be entertaining and non-sappy, so it's not all bad.

I love days like today. It's kind of rainy and gloomy, but the energy is whipping about in the air like electricity. You can honestly feel it. It's in the wind and the air and even the drizzle coming down seems to have purpose. They're all letting us know that something exciting is coming up. In my experience, this happens just about every October, right around Halloween, and nothing exciting really does ever happen, though it always feels like it will. (Wait, that's a lie. It was just a year ago that I was completely freaked out, waiting for a phone call. I know that's not going to happen again. What old demon is going to resurface this year? Which reminds me that I've been meaning to tell you for a while that I have righted the big wrong in my life. I can't tell you how incredible it felt to be able to apologize and to have him actually listen. To be able to say hello and give him a hug now without worry. To let him know how truly, deeply sorry I am, and that I know the full extent of what I did and how wrong it was. If you get the opportunity to apologize to someone for a past wrong, take it. It is good for you and good for them. Just a simple, "I'm sorry" can work wonders. Anyway, back to the electricity in the air.) Maybe it is my own excitement about Halloween, or maybe it's an actual phenomenon, who knows? But I love it.

And to top it all off, I'm drinking my Buddha Amache tea that I brought back from Holland and I'm wearing my Holland pants which, if I'm allowed to say this, make my ass look great. I'm feeling good today. Energized and apprehensive, but good. Is it wrong to be apprehensive? Am I being silly? Is it wrong to want to steel myself against future hurts? Should I stop overanalyzing and just go with it and worry about it all later, as it happens? Fuck. My ass looks great and I'm drinking the best tea in the world and the wind is talking to me. Today is a good day. I'll worry about the shit later.

I have to take a quick moment to give a shout out to the mutha phuckin' Toast Tites, too. If I'm going to talk about the mutha phuckin' Red Sox, I gotta talk about mutha phuckin' Toast Tites and the bald guy who makes 'em really toasty, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Mutha phuckin' Toast Tites!

Okay, I'm done being gangsta. For today.

Mutha phuckin' Red Sox! You can't help but be excited for them. Well, I can't help but be excited for them. An 84 year losing streak is over. That's really wonderful. And they beat the Cardinals. That's really wonderful. And they beat the Cardinals in four straight games. That is so beyond wonderful I can't even tell you.

Will I follow the Sox season next year? Not religiously. Maybe periferally. I'm a Cubs fan. I will follow my Cubbies to the end of the earth and if it ever comes down to the Cubs vs. the Red Sox in the World Series, I will hate the Sox vehemently if they even think about scoring a run. But today, I am happy for the Sox. And I'm happy to be cheering for a winning team. And I'm happy because I carved a pumpkin last night that looks like Strong Bad and I put this creepy, color-changing light in it and it rocked. I don't even remember the last time I carved a pumpkin. It's really fun, once you get past the incredible ick that is the interior of a pumpkin.

And yeah. I'm boring today. Sorry about that. I'm going to drink my third cup of tea of the morning and do some *gasp* work and yeah. I just wanted to say congratulations to the Red Sox for winning the World Series in four straight games. That is impressive in any year, and particularly special now that the underdogs have come out on top. Congratulations, Boston.

This is just plain wrong. Genetically modified cats that won't irritate people's allergies? Am I the only one horrified by this?

Yes, I think it is sad that 10% of the American population can't have cats for pets because they are allergic to them. Cats are wonderful, beautiful animals and I love my cat more than anything. But to breed them especially for people who are allergic in such a way that they won't irritate said person's allergies? How selfish is that? They have already said that these cats will be spade and neutered so they can't breed with "normal" cats, but come on. Let's rob this cat of it's catness in as many ways as we can so that a human can enjoy it's non-cat company.

A genetically modified cat would still be a cat. It would still be loving and sweet and a great addition to anyone's life. But it seem particularly cruel to the cats. How many people will invest in one of these cats so that their friends can come over, even though they themselves may not be allergic? Will "normal" domestic cats be phased out as pets entirely? What will happen to the population of "normal" cats? Granted, hypo-allergenic cats are really expensive and won't hit the market place until 2007. But it still makes me really sad. Not everything in life needs to be redesigned so as to make it convenient for humans. Leave the cats alone. There are millions of people out there already, willing to take medication or live in discomfort for the sake of having a cat. Don't mess with the cats, please. If you're allergic and don't want to take medication, don't get a cat. Leave the cats out of it.

One more, guys, just one more. You gotta win tonight and shut out the Cardinals. Sweep 'em all the way back to St. Louis. From St. Louis. Um, you know what I mean.

So everyone is wondering, if Boston wins the World Series, will the Cubs win it next year? Me? I'm wondering if Boston takes the World Series, will Boston also win the White House?

Oh yeah, don't forget to vote on Tuesday. This one is important.

One relationship sorted out, kind of, and I feel infinitely better. I can't even begin to tell you the weight that lifted off my chest, because this was an important one to me. As much as I don't want to admit it, it is. I like this person quite a bit and the thought of things changing between us...I hardly ate yesterday because I just felt sick about the thought of losing him. Shit. There goes my girl/dork flag. Thank you, Bostonian Guy Friend for the cyber hug -- I'm still going to need a real one when I see you in a couple of weeks, but your timing was perfect. *smooch*

Now to get the rest of them sorted out. Time to get the rest of my life sorted out. Make the decisions that I need to make. Pursue the things I need to pursue. Get my ass in gear and get out there.

I have to share this tidbit -- another Chicago musician found my MySpace Music site and really liked the songs I have posted up there. We chatted a bit. Now he has a gig coming up in December and he asked if I'd open for him. I know it's a small step -- a little thing. But it is so beyond flattering, I can't even tell you. It is at a well respected venue for the kind of music I play, and I'm guessing there will be a pretty good crowd, or at the very least, there will be people there who have never heard me play before who might be receptive to hearing some new stuff. I'll send you all more information once it is all confirmed and stuff. But yeah, I thought that was pretty cool -- to be invited to open for someone who I haven't even met yet. I guess I write some pretty good tunes. Yay me.

First off, YAY RED SOX!!!

Okay, moving on.

Most people think of springtime as a time of cleanising and renewal. The time of year to empty out your closets and shed your winter coats and things. I, however, being the complete and total oddball that I am always feel the need to do a cleansing in the fall. Like, now. Time to clean out my closets. Time to scrub my floors. Time to reexamine where I am in my life and how far away that is from where I want to be and to make some changes to bring myself back on track. Time to look at the relationships in my life and see which ones are beneficial and which ones are detrimental. Honestly, I feel like I'm stuck in several detrimental relationships right now and I need to do something about that. They are never easy conversations to have, but they are always necessary.

And I think above all, I need to devote some time to forgiving myself. I've been neglecting myself quite a bit as of late -- letting feelings go unchecked, pumping out negativity, overlooking the basic things that I need in order to stay functional, like a good, healthy serving of vegetables every day. Tomatoes. I miss my tomatoes. Tomatoes just somehow make everything better and it's been a while since I had one. I bought myself two little shaker thingies to bring to my gig yesterday, thinking that I could say to the audience that if they were so inclined, they could pick one up and add to the music because music is so much better when it is shared. But everyone at the gig was kind of doing their own thing -- I was very much background music, so my shakers were not used. But I bring this up because one of the shakers is a plum and the other is a tomato. When I went into the store, I was thinking, "Please let there still be a tomato shaker" and there was. I think I might have cried if it wasn't there and I had to get a squash instead. But thankfully, the tomato was there and now it is perched atop my bookcase, waiting for it's chance to shine.

But I need to retreat for a day or two. Have a good cry. Look myself dead in the eyes and work through some of this stuff. Bring myself back to my happy, asexual, not caring if everyone just tolerates my existence state. I've been very resentful of the fact that I am female for all of the emotional crap that comes along with having the amazing second X chromosome. I need to stop being resentful. I need to stop hurting the people I care about, including myself. I need a day off.

If I can, I would like to start by apologizing to all of you. I know I've hurt some feelings along the way, whether intentional or no. There have been things said that were misinterpreted or misdirected that have caused rifts in some of our relationships. I'm sorry about that. They were misinterpretations. That's all I can say, really. But I'm sorry. I take responsibility for those things and apologize for them and let's move on now, shall we? Holding onto that crap only makes it worse.

I need a day off.

And once again I'm tired. In so many senses of the word, I can't even begin to explain half of them. I will someday, when it has all died down, but not right now.

And once again, the memo didn't make it all the way around major league baseball. The Cardinals were supposed to lose last night. If I was a Houston fan, I would hate the Cardinals with as much vehemence as I hate the Marlins. Or as I hate the Cardinals. A Boston/St. Louis series? Who wants to see that? I do, but only if Boston takes it in four. I want to see the Cardinals crushed and humiliated. Stupidfey Cardinals. Spoiling everything. Sheesh. Go Red Sox!

So not doing my show for three days really took its toll last night. First of all, we had an audience. Not a great audience, not a good audience, but an audience. As in, a few people showed up, paid, watched, and left. That's about it. Which I guess made me try a little harder to get something out of them. Meaning in the scene where I get beat up, I fell too hard to my knees and then hit my head on the stage when I got kicked in the stomach. I've got a lovely bruise on my left knee now, which was already feeling kind of ooky. And then in the cannibalism scene, or actually right before the cannibalism scene, I whacked my knuckle on something, ripping off several layers of skin and creating a nice bead of blood on the back of my hand. Fortunately for the cannibalism scene, I'm eating a bloody hand then anyway, so I was able to sort of tend to my wound in a really sick and twisted way. But it hurt, gosh darn it.

On the up side, our pace was really good and my one friend (who has never seen me perform before) enjoyed the show, so that's a good thing. Here's hoping my body holds out for the rest of the run.

And the Red Sox won and there was much rejoicing.

Yay.

Congrats to Boston for finally beating the Damn Yankees. You do realize, of course, that this now secures the Cubs rights as the only team allowed to bitch about a dry spell next year.

Bless me, Dusty, for I have sinned. It has been a really long time since my last confession.

I have cheered for the Red Sox. I am not from Boston, though I have visited a couple of times and at least one of my very favorite people in the whole world currently resides in Boston, but my heart has always belonged to and will always belong to the Cubs. Chicago is my home. The Cubs are my team. But lately, despite the fact that the Cubs did not make it to post season play this year, I have found myself getting a little bit excited when I see a Yankee/Red Sox game on television. Even more excited when I see that Boston is winning. Is it possible to split one's affections between two teams if each is from a different city and in a different league?

Hail, Cubbies, full of hope, our dreams are with you
Blessed are you among baseball teams, and blessed are the fruits of your bats
Triumphant Cubbies, beloved of the nation, play for us fans, now and in the post season

I'm going to hell, aren't I?

After I graduated from college, I lived with my mom in this funky little house on the north side of Chicago. It really was an odd little house. The only house on our street, really, it was located between a preschool and a used car/mechanic lot. We had a stop light in our front yard, too. I used to tell my friends that if they were coming down that one street and went straight through the light instead of turning, they'd end up in my front yard because really, driving along, this was the last place you would expect to find a house.

This house was about 100 years old and had just about the worst insulation ever. In the summer, it was hot as hell in there. In the winter, it was cold as...hell. Is hell hot or cold? I've heard both, but I don't think it has ever really been decided which one it is. For me, I bet hell is cold just because there is very little I dislike more than being cold. And it was cold in that house in the winter. You could practically feel the wind ripping through the walls. We'd crank the heat and put that plastic stuff over the windows and it was still freezing in there. And, of course, I'm cold all of the time anyway, so it was particularly miserable for me. Not that it was miserable living with my mother -- I loved living with her. We made great roommates. But it was cold and I hated it.

There was, however, a heating vent right next to the toilet in the bathroom, so when you went to use the toilet, your right leg would get nice and toasty. I loved it. Sometimes, I would spend time in the bathroom, just to be near that vent. I love being toasty.

The radiator in our bathroom here at work is the hardest working radiator I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Our bathroom is not particularly large, but it is beyond toasty. It is almost sauna-like in there, but without the humidity. I love it. My little toaster oven of an office can't hold a candle to the warm joy that is our bathroom. I was just in there and it reminded of my days in that strange little house. It was eventually torn down so they could build a police station. It's weird to drive past there now. But I think I will always have a soft spot for pleasantly toasty bathrooms because of that house. Mmm...toasty...

Admittedly, I did not get to watch the Presidential debates, nor the Vice-Presidential debate. I had other commitments at those times. I am, however, reading the transcripts. It's interesting to read the transcripts when so many people are commenting on pouty faces that were made or the general demeanor of the participants -- I have gotten to experience none of that. I found something, though, that pretty much sums up everything I've been saying all along about Senator Kerry, and I would like to share it here with you:

"DEGENHART: Senator Kerry, suppose you are speaking with a voter who believed abortion is murder and the voter asked for reassurance that his or her tax dollars would not go to support abortion, what would you say to that person?

KERRY: I would say to that person exactly what I will say to you right now.

First of all, I cannot tell you how deeply I respect the belief about life and when it begins. I'm a Catholic, raised a Catholic. I was an altar boy. Religion has been a huge part of my life. It helped lead me through a war, leads me today.

But I can't take what is an article of faith for me and legislate it for someone who doesn't share that article of faith, whether they be agnostic, atheist, Jew, Protestant, whatever. I can't do that.

But I can counsel people. I can talk reasonably about life and about responsibility. I can talk to people, as my wife Teresa does, about making other choices, and about abstinence, and about all these other things that we ought to do as a responsible society.

But as a president, I have to represent all the people in the nation. And I have to make that judgment.

Now, I believe that you can take that position and not be pro- abortion, but you have to afford people their constitutional rights. And that means being smart about allowing people to be fully educated, to know what their options are in life, and making certain that you don't deny a poor person the right to be able to have whatever the constitution affords them if they can't afford it otherwise.

That's why I think it's important. That's why I think it's important for the United States, for instance, not to have this rigid ideological restriction on helping families around the world to be able to make a smart decision about family planning. 

You'll help prevent AIDS. 

You'll help prevent unwanted children, unwanted pregnancies. 

You'll actually do a better job, I think, of passing on the moral responsibility that is expressed in your question. And I truly respect it.

...KERRY: Well, again, the president just said, categorically, my opponent is against this, my opponent is against that. You know, it's just not that simple. No, I'm not. 

I'm against the partial-birth abortion, but you've got to have an exception for the life of the mother and the health of the mother under the strictest test of bodily injury to the mother.

Secondly, with respect to parental notification, I'm not going to require a 16-or 17-year-old kid who's been raped by her father and who's pregnant to have to notify her father. So you got to have a judicial intervention. And because they didn't have a judicial intervention where she could go somewhere and get help, I voted against it. It's never quite as simple as the president wants you to believe."

I'm not putting this here to illustrate Mr. Kerry's stance on abortion and say that it is this issue that is the deciding factor for me as to who I am going to vote for. I am posting this here because it illustrates Mr. Kerry's understanding of what his job will be. He will be a representative of this entire nation. He will be representative of one of the most diverse nations in the world. He will be a representative of all of us, not just of those who think like him. Look at his answers -- he says, "...you've got to have an exception...It's never quite as simple as the president wants you to believe." How many times have I said that exact same thing? I like the idea of having a man in office who tries to look at things from more than one angle. I like the idea of having a man in office who listens to what the American people are saying -- all of them, not just the ones he chooses to golf with. I the idea of having a man in office who will vote down a bill if there is one clause in it that he doesn't agree with. I like the idea of having a man in office who doesn't reduce every issue to a simple black and white, right and wrong, but who will examine the entire issue and act accordingly.

Frankly, from reading the two debates that I have read thus far, I don't really like either candidate. They read much more like infantile pissing contests than presidential debates. But then I found this answer from Mr. Kerry and I have to respect it. And I have to respect him for thinking that way. And given the alternative, I have to vote for him.

I love the fall. The colors, the smells, the crisp, cool air, the holidays (not the winter holidays, the fall ones like Halloween and Columbus Day), the rich foods, the warmth. It is days like today that get me thinking about how blessed I am to live where I live and be able to afford the lifestyle I have, simple as it may be. And it is days like today that get me thinking that if I'm paying this much in rent and heat is included, they should be cranking the heat up to about 70 degrees today. It's cold outside! It's cold in my apartment! It's the end of October, for crying out loud. They turned the heat on for about an hour on Saturday and my apartment was nice and toasty for a little while. It has not been on since and my apartment is getting downright chilly. Same with my office. I'm sitting in front of a space heater today because I don't think it was any warmer in my office this morning than it is outside. Good thing I brought soup for lunch today, or I'd never make it.

I hope that wherever you are, you feel the wonderful fall warmth not only in your heart and soul, but also in the temperature of the room you are occupying.

Baby powder smells really good.

Baby powder tastes really bad.

Baby powder dries out your mouth for days on end.

To sum up, do not eat baby powder.

Thank you.

And now I'm going to talk about food for a minute. That's right, I'm going to be a completely unabashed vegan and sing the praises of the wonderful thing that is a vegan diet.

I went to this restaurant last night with my mother that says in really big letters on the front awning "Healthy Korean Vegan Cuisine." This is my new favorite restaurant. The menu has a sense of humor. The plates that they bring out with the appetizers are heart-shaped. The chopsticks are metal. The chef, Chef Dave, is also the waiter and he is one of the sweetest men I've met. So darling. So friendly. And such an amazing chef! The portion sizes were huge and both my mother and I were more than satisfied with everything we tried. So many flavors and colors and textures. And so many of the vegetables used were vegetables that just make you feel like you did something good for your body. You know what I'm talking about? There are certain foods that you can eat that make you feel like you just gave your innerds a hug. You feel all warm and happy inside, like you can feel the nutrients rushing to your organs and your organs respond by saying, "Sweet!" and then they kick in and work extra hard so your whole body feels alive and like it is functioning exactly as it should be. That's the kind of meal I had last night. And true, part of it might have been that I had fabulous company and conversation that inspired dendritic growth, but I gotta give props to Chef Dave for his amazing creations. I'm almost afraid to tell other people about this place because then it will get overly crowded, but by the same token, they deserve it. What the hell. It's called Amitabul and it's on Milwaukee Avenue near Devon in Chicago. So yummy. So friendly. So good for you. I think I may have to go back and take some cooking classes there.

I have also, just recently, discovered the joy that is chai tea. I'd never had chai tea before, until about a week ago. I had a chai soy latte (sweet Jebus, am I turning into a yuppie?) and fell in love. It's like drinking straight nutmeg. And with the soy milk, I'm getting some of my daily protein, too. I'm having some this morning with rice milk (also a new experiment for me) and it's okay, but I have yet to perfect the skill that is making a chai rice milk latte. Without a cappuchino maker. But still, the nutmeggy flavor...I love fall foods. The heartiness of them. The healing, soothing feeling they create in your stomach as you digest. Hearty soups and fresh breads and warm cookies from the oven. And then to know that the stuff you are eating is good for you and not harmful to anyone or anything else...I love being a vegan.

I've been dreaming about vampires a lot lately. Like I'm Buffy and they are chasing me and I know I have to kill them, but I'd rather just run away from it and not have to kill them because I know I don't know how. In my dream last night, I had this really crappy stake that more than anything was just a splinter-producing wood chip and I was running around after a while hitting everyone I knew with it. Most of them were okay, but a vampire or two did disintegrate from my group.

The sad part is that according to several online dream dictionaries, dreaming about vampires is not necessarily a good thing. It could mean that I feel physically or emotionally drained (which I kind of do), or that I know that deep down inside, someone I am drawn to is bad for me. Given everything that has been going on lately, it could also just be a time of year thing. Because the thought of this person being bad for me makes me really sad. I guess part of me knows it, but part of me wants to see what will happen anyway. And in all truth, this person makes me really happy during my waking hours. Maybe I'm thinking these dreams are indicative of the wrong person. Or maybe I'm putting too much faith in my dreams all together. It's just odd for me to have dreams about the same thing three or four nights in a row. Eh. Now that I have an hour here and an hour there to myself, maybe it's time to do some examining of my relationships and figure out which ones are toxic.

You know, it's not like I've ever found this job interesting or exciting or I've ever really enjoyed being here, but this is ridiculous. No, I don't want to be here. No, I'm not ready to leave today. I wanted to be out of debt first. I wanted to have a contingency plan. I want to at least have a schedule that is sort of clear enough that I can apply for other jobs. And the way the whole thing is being handled -- talk about feeling worthless. Yes, I have felt useless and worthless here for years, but this is worse than normal because nobody will talk to us. Nobody will tell us what is going on. I hope they do fire me so I can tell them exactly what a shitty job they are doing. How do you come into work every day knowing that this could be your last day in your office, or it could not be your last day in your office? It's like fucking Chinese water torture. Is it worth continuing this project? Is it worth starting this one? Is it worth filing everything that's on your desk, or will it just have to be shredded in ten minutes anyway? If they would just fire me, I'd know. I could set out a course of action. To be stuck in limbo is the worst possible place to be and I've been here long enough. Which says I could just up and leave of my own volition. Which also scares the shit out of me. Fuck. This was not handled at all well.

Maybe the whole point of interpersonal relationships is that they are not supposed to make sense or be easy, because if they were, we'd get bored with them and/or take them for granted. Maybe this is my lesson to learn in this life -- that it really doesn't make sense and you just kind of have to go on faith. Or maybe I'm a crackpot who is trying to justify a screwy situation. I dunno. I'd rather think of it in the former sense, as opposed to the latter. Maybe that will be my lesson next time around -- to learn to be a crackpot. Or how to use a crockpot.

I watched Super Size Me today. It's an interesting commentary and I think it is very well done. I would very much recommend seeing it. The strange thing for me, though, was looking at so much McDonald's food. That doesn't even look like food to me anymore. I felt kind of sick when the film was over, almost like I had consumed that much grease. Granted, I'm not perfect in my eating habits -- I probably eat more sugar than I should -- but all that fat and cholesterol? Ugh. It just kind of made me ill.

But yeah, go see this film, or rent it or whatever. It is very interesting to see what that diet did to him, and also interesting how many times the one doctor talks about the effects of a high fat diet. I'd like the Atkins diet followers to get the same blood tests and stuff that the guy in the film did, just for shits and grins, you know? Anyway. Yeah, go see it.

I'm nervous.

I don't know if it is opening night jitters or in anticipation of tomorrow. I'm so tempted to back out just because I'm scared. I'll go, I'll do a great job, and I won't get it and I'll be horribly disappointed. I'm not trying to be self-deprecating here; I'm beng realistic. I've been to auditions like this before and I never get them. I am talented, but so are a million other people, you know? It's nothing personal, it's not a slight against me, it's just the way things go. I don't get these kinds of jobs. But then again, maybe I'm due. I don't know if that is a more frightening prospect or not. Either way, I'm all kinds of nervous. I hope it translates well onto the stage tonight. The nervous energy, that is. And then I hope I can actually get some sleep so I don't suck tomorrow.

You know what? If I don't go, I won't get it. If I do go, I might get it, but probably not. It is that "might" that will make me go. Because either way, I won't get it, but if I don't try, I'll only have myself to blame. Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias, si?

The internet is a really strange thing. Really strange. And I'll tell you why.

There is a website where you can go and listen to four of my songs. It didn't cost me anything to put my four little songs up there, but they're there and anybody who wants to listen to them can. Simple as that. But that's not the weird part. The weird part is that people actually do listen to them. And like them. People who I don't know. People just stumble upon this site, have a listen, and send me a note saying they really like my tunes. I've had requests for CDs, requests for a fan site with pictures and stuff...it's bizarre. It's like a little taste of fame. And the really strange part is, I'm still me. I have a band-aid on my finger because my cuticle ripped yesterday and it hurt. And I get messages from people saying I'm the best and I'm their hero and so on and so forth. And I go home and make a mental note of the fact that I need to clean my bathroom sink. It's so bizarre.

I don't think I'll ever be one of those people who abuses her celebrity, assuming I actually become one. The coffee shop where I play likes to give me free tea. I feel bad taking it. I make them charge me for my beverages. Because the way I see it, I'm a person just like anybody else. They are a business that depends on their customers paying for goods and services. I am requesting a service and some goods, so I should pay for it like anyone else. And the one girl who works there feels bad charging me. I don't get it. I'm fantastically flattered, but I still think it's kind of funny.

So yeah, thanks to the internet, this brilliant invention, I have gotten my music out there to total strangers who like it. Someone even said my music is therapeutic. My music. The simple little songs I wrote in my living room that I didn't think anyone would ever hear have touched absolute strangers, thanks to this marvelous invention called the internet. It is so strange.

And now I have to go home and wash the dishes. I've been neglecting my household duties because I've been so busy lately. And while I'm washing my dishes, someone I've never met will be sitting at home or driving in his/her car listening to music that I wrote and wondering what my life is like. I'm not alone in thinking that is bizarre, am I?

So tonight is preview night and for the first time probably since the beginning of the rehearsal period, I felt good about my performance last night. Not great, but good. Not terrible. And looking at the other scenes, I think they look pretty good. I did a decent job with costumes. Not spectacular, but decent. Everyone is dressed at least. It was frustrating for me to put clothes on 13 people in about ten different short pieces with about three weeks to do it because I couldn't come up with a real design scheme or anything. In most cases, it came down to what fit who. But I looked at it again last night and it looks pretty good. Not spectacular, but pretty good. I'm not proud, but I'm satisfied, if that makes any sense. And now I'm rambling, so I'm going to stop. One of these days, I'll get some sleep and I'll be more coherent.

So I am under so much stress right now, my skin is taking it's cues from Mt. St. Helens. It's really not pretty. I kind of blew up last night and it felt good to get it out there, you know? But still, I have a lot of work to do in the very immediate future and I don't know how much I have in me left to be able to get it done. I will get it done. And then I'll cry afterwards.

But on the up side, I rediscovered this hat that I used to wear in college. It's a green-ish brown-ish gray-ish sort of cabbie hat. Nice and beat up. And with my brown overcoat, it makes me look all cute and hip hop-ish. I dig it. It makes me happy to wear it. So that's good. A little bright spot in my sea of chaos.

I love all of the people running around criticizing Kerry for not having a plan to get our troops out of Iraq and using that as a reason to not vote for him. Guess what? Bush doesn't have a plan to get our troops out of Iraq, nor does he have the faintest idea of what to do while we're over there. How do I know this? I've been listening to the news for the past two years. Our guys (by which I mean men and women in service) are still over there getting killed on a daily basis with no end in sight and the only remedies Bush has been able to come up with involve spending more of our tax dollars over there on what, I don't know. If he had a plan, it didn't work. And he won't fess up to making a mistake. He won't say, "Okay, that didn't work; let's try something else." Kerry looks at Iraq, at what is going on over there and says, "Hey, that isn't working. Let's try to think of something else." That, to me, sounds like a good idea. Call me crazy.

I'd also like to link to this endorsement of John Kerry from a newspaper from George Bush's home town because I think it is well written and brings up a lot of very valid points.

I saw an ad on TV last night for a sort of CD player type thing that plays smells. Like an air freshner that rotates the fragrance every half an hour, and you can buy different discs that have different arrays of smells. Granted, I could have been hallucinating after making five sets of fake breasts, but I think it was a real ad. And the first thing that popped into my head was not, "Wow, what a neat invention," it was, "Wow, they're ripping off Harold and Maude." Such a lovely scene, when she plays her odorifics for him. And now, with the invention of this smell player, Maude is no longer a crackpot working on some insane invention, she is a trailblazer in the world of air perfumery. People fifty years from now will watch Harold and Maude (I hope) and not find that scene at all funny or bizarre. It will be mundane. Normal. Harold will be the odd ball for living in a house that smells the way it smells instead of smelling like a cool, mountain stream.

I hate it when they ruin movies for me.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about them anymore. The season is over. It will be at least 2006 before we can say the Cubs made it to two post seasons in a row again. Since 1908. You know, we should just wait and get to the post season in 2007 and 2008 to make it an even hundred years.

I do still love the Cubs. I am excited to see what they're going to do with the team for next year. I hope they keep Walker and Hollandsworth, and I hope Hollandsworth gets healthy. I'd like to see Alou and Nomar come back, too. Because next year is our year, man. Next year. The cry of the true Cubs fan.

We'll see you in the spring!

Okay, so we're only a game out, not a game and a half. Still.

Also, rabbit, rabbit as it is now October.

And also, most states have voter registration deadlines and most of said deadlines are coming up in the next day or so, so if you are not registered to vote, please do so in the next day or two. This is an important election and we all need to get out there and vote, regardless of who we are voting for. Who knows? Mickey Mouse could actually win it this year.

Do you know that you're breaking my heart? Do you know how much it hurts? Do you know how invested I am in this? Do you know that I cry every time I listen to you? Do you know how loud I scream or how close I come to actually praying? Do you know how many people you are letting down?

Three games left in the season. Three games. And we're a game and a half out. The sad truth of being a Cubs fan is that you always know that there is another year right around the corner. You can't give up on them because you love them too much. But still, a little piece of you dies every time they lose. Yes, I am being overly dramatic. But yes, I love the Chicago Cubs and it kills me to see them this close to the post season and losing such painful games to such awful teams. Our defense has been amazing, but our offense just can't deliver. It is exactly the opposite of the rest of the season and it is so frustrating. So painful. So disappointing.

But there are still three more games to play this year. And we're only a game and a half out...

I'm turning into a morning drink person. I like coming in to work and having my tea. For the tea part, not the coming in to work part. I'm currently enjoying a nice blend of white and green teas that has all of the benefits of green tea, but without that mown grass aftertaste that so many green teas have. It's the addition of the white, which actually has more antioxidants than green tea. So I'm doing something moderately healthy for my body, which makes me feel good. Especially with the schedule I've been keeping as of late. I'm eating all funky and I don't think I've gotten a decent night's sleep in about three weeks, and when I do sleep, I dream of costumes and the problems associated therewith and then I stay at the theater too late or I get a drink afterwards which turns into six and I've not been eating right so the alcohol really fucks me up and I will be so beyond glad when this show is up and running so I don't have to worry about it anymore so I feel good coming in to work and drinking green and white tea in the morning. Give my body a little immuno boost that I am pretty sure it needs. Moreso than usual. Will I keep this up after the show is over? Who knows. But for right now, I am a "tea first thing in the morning" person and I kind of like it.

So I'm contemplating this audition that if I get it, could significantly change my life. Which, of course, means I won't get it. I don't want to talk about it too much, but it is kind of fun to think of my life changing in that way. It's time. And, of course, that means the thought of going to this audition is scaring the crap out of me. But I'm going to go and at the very least try. Then when I'm not cast, at least I know it wasn't for lack of effort. But still, keep your fingers crossed for me, okay?

So in his infinite wisdom, Governor Arnold Schwartzenegger has apparently made it illegal to smoke in prison in California.

Now, let me insert a nice little disclaimer here -- I have never been to prison. I don't know what it is like. I have only seen several dozen prison movies, none of them pornographic in nature, so I am forced to assume that they are an accurate portrayal of prison life. Now back to my rant.

Does this seem like a bad idea to anyone else? No, I am not in favor of smoking. I will, sometimes, hold my breath when I hug a friend who smokes because the smell is repulsive. I have seen plenty of photographs of diseased lungs. I know smoking is bad for you. However, let's consider the social importance of cigarettes in prison society. According to movies, cigarettes are currency. Eliminating cigarettes from prison society would be like saying, "Okay, nobody has any money any more. You are all worth the same amount and none of you has anything with which to barter to get the things you want or need." Yeah, that's not going to cause chaos. Now, imagine saying that to a group of several thousand convicted criminals. No, not all criminals are angry, violent people. But there are enough of them that are (I'm betting) that their reaction to such a proclimation would not be to shed their clothing and start singing "Give Peace a Chance." And now take all of these irritated convicted criminals and tell them that not only are they worth nothing and they have nothing worth anything, but they still have to live in a teeny, tiny box with all of these other irritated convicted criminals. And then, as if things weren't tense enough, deprive them of the nicotine they are so dependent upon. I'm guessing a lot of them in there had been smoking for years, and their nicotine consumption skyrocketed once they were incarcerated because really, what else is there to do? So now, you've got thousands of angry convicted criminals all having nic fits at the same time and no real outlet for their anger and frustration. And what are you going to do to a prisoner if he/she breaks the no-smoking-in-prison law? Put them in jail? Solitary confinement? You want a guy having nic fits sitting in solitary confinement? You know how pissed off he's going to be when he gets out of there?

I know that the whole point of prison is that you are deprived of your everyday rights because you did something society deems unacceptable. I know that smoking is damaging not only to those inhaling the cigarettes, but everyone around them. But considering the possible consequences of removing the one sedative from an already volatile powder keg...I'm torn. It will be interesting to see how this ban pans out.

So I'm anal retentive. So what? Is that really such a bad thing?

The weird thing is that I'm only anal retentive with other people's things. Seriously. You should see my house. I'm not at all obsessive about cleaning, but it's getting to a point where even I am getting disgusted. It's not so much dirty as just messy. My chaos is taking over my apartment and I am almost having problems finding things. Almost. Not quite. I keep telling myself that as soon as this Halloween show goes up, I'll be able to give my apartment a good scrubbing and purge a lot of the useless crap. It needs it.

But this Halloween show. I've been freaking out about the costumes for it for weeks now, running around finding things, pulling things, making things. But I haven't been able to organize them yet because of a lack of rack, hangers, and other organizational tools. But finally, all of that has come together. Well, not so much the hangers, but the rest of it. And I can lay everything out and very easily see which actor is missing which pieces. I feel so much better now. Granted, I still have a lot of work to do, but at least I can see it all coming together. I know better which things I don't have to worry about anymore and which things I do. That makes me happy. Or at least, it lets me sleep at night with only one nightmare about clothing...

I can't help but think about how many world problems would be solved if everyone wore comfortable shoes. All of the time. Not just slippers when you get home from work, but comfortable work shoes. Comfortable going out shoes. All around all of the time comfortable shoes. There really is nothing nicer than sliding on a pair of shoes that hug your feet just right and know that at the end of the day, your feet will feel just as wonderful as they do right now.

I rediscovered this pair of shoes in my closet that I bought in Chinatown in New York City for three dollars and I love them. So comfy. And they make this cute "pat, pat" sound when I walk. And they are fuzzy and blue. I love them. It is making me very happy and peaceful today to be wearing these shoes. Imagine if everyone got to feel like that all of the time.

So here's my little tip for shoe designers -- funky is cool, but comfortable sells to everyone. Or something like that. Just make comfortable shoes, okay? No more eight inch heels with no padding in the ball of the foot. Those just make people cranky.

Some of the most beautiful music in the world is created by a very sweet little man by the name of Colin Hay. His songs are simple, yet masterful in their construction. The words are real and honest and true. The voice is not perfect, but it speaks to your soul in the way your best friend's embrace does. If you do not know of what I speak, please make the time in your day to go out and pick up a record by Colin Hay. Your heart will thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Hay, for sharing your beauty with us.

Ten games left in the regular season. Half a game lead in the wild card race. I am currently knocking on every wooden surface I encounter.

Did you know the last time the Cubs made it to the post season in two consecutive seasons was 1907 and 1908?

Did you know the last time the Cubs had two consecutive above-500 seasons was in the 1950's?

Do you know how badly I want the Cubs to make it to the post-season this year?

Ten games to go. Gotta maintain a half-game lead. My Cubbies can do it.

Knock on wood.

Wow, Cat Stevens was denied entry into the United States because he is on the terror threat list. I think I'm going to cry.

I don't have all of the information, so it may be completely justified to put him on the terror threat list, but it still makes me sad and I'll tell you why.

High school was rough for me. I know that high school is rough for 90% of teenagers out there, but that doesn't mean it was any less rough for me. I was miserable every day for four years. But this one day, my junior year, our teacher showed us Harold and Maude. I don't remember why she showed us the movie, as in what educational value it was supposed to contain, but she showed it to us nonetheless and I fell in love. I fell in love with Bud Cort and Ruth Gordon, and most of all, with the music of Cat Stevens. "If you want to sing out, sing out. If you want to be free, be free. 'Cuz there's a million things to be, you know that there are." In my adolescent mind, no truer words had ever been spoken and I took tremendous comfort in them. My friends and I did our best to compile a Harold and Maude soundtrack since an official one was never released and we couldn't make it through a day without singing something from the film. His songs touched my soul and made it okay to be me and to do what I wanted to do. And if I was having a really rough day, "Trouble" let me know that someone else was having one, too.

In the midst of our obsession, though, we did find out about Mr. Stevens renunciation of all of his musical works when he discovered Islam and changed his name to Yusif Islam. I was heartbroken that he would take back everything that he said, as it meant so much to me. But secretly, I knew that he still meant it. He found himself in Islam and did what he wanted to do, the same as he had been telling me to do (minus the Islam part).

So now to see him denied entry into the United States because he is a perceived threat to the nation...it's like that last little bit of faith I had in Cat Stevens' lyric has been killed. The man who helped me through some very dark days is now thought to be a man who could bring about very dark days for the entire country. I don't know if that makes sense to you, or if it makes any sense why it saddens me, but it does.

I still love Cat Stevens. I will still play his songs and take tremendous comfort in the message therein, because I know he meant it once. And I may have to have a little ceremony to mourn his passing so that I can fully respect Yusif Islam for the person he is. Goodbye, Cat Stevens. And thank you.

Well, you cracked the sky
Scrapers fill the air
Will you keep on building higher
'Til there's no more room up there?
Will you make us laugh?
Will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live?
Will you tell us when to die?

I know we've come a long way
We're changing day to day
Tell me where do the children play?

If I was psychic, wouldn't I just know it? Why do I need to respond to some random e-mail to tell me how to figure it out?

I would like to send a giant "Welcome to the world!" out to my new honorary niece, Regan Elizabeth, who was born on Friday. I've only seen pictures of her, but she is beautiful. I hope I get to meet you soon!

And congratulations to Mom, Dad, and big brother Alex. I love you all and am so happy for the whole family.

I'm not exactly sure why, but the world is looking a little brighter to me today. Maybe it is because of the lovely, supportive e-mails I have been getting from my friends as of late. You are all exactly right -- I am only human. Thank you for loving me anyway.

Or maybe it is because I know that I will get my big projects done. I just have this weird faith in that.

Or maybe it is because I am starting to get comfortable with the fact that seemingly no matter how many entries I have in here, the counter thingy still says I have 1,109. And yes, I checked, all of my other posts are still there, too.

Or maybe I'm starting to notice once again how blessed I am. I get to experience things that nobody else does. I'm not going to go into complete and total detail here, but suffice it to say, I lead an interesting life. I've always wanted one and I do have one. No, it is not perfect, and no, it's not quite everything I know it could be, but it is still enough that when I'm talking to people at parties, the things that are mundane and old hat to me are interesting and bizarre to everyone else. I take a strange comfort in that.

Whatever it is, I hope you all have a lovely day. Go out and enjoy the beautiful, fresh, crisp fall air. I love this time of year.

I think the key to big challenges is to break them down into bite sized pieces. They're not so scary that way. And of course, keep breathing.

I also think I broke the Blogger counter thingy because it has said that this blog contains 1,109 posts for about two weeks now. Unless it is deleting my early entries because I have reached capacity or something. That would suck. I like some of those early entries. But anyway, yeah. What it boils down to is that I post too much. Oh well.

I guess one of my biggest problems is that I am a guarded person. I think it comes from years and years of being a good listener and letting other people cry on my shoulder. Which I have loved doing. Honestly. There are times when I think I should be a shrink because I love listening to people and offering what support I can in the way that (hopefully) they need it. I think I've gotten pretty good at figuring out when someone just wants to be heard and when they are seeking advice and that kind of thing. I love doing it. Life happens in your interactions with the people around you and I feel blessed that the people around me will open up and share things and I am honored that I am viewed as the strong one who can help, or at the very least listen.

But after years of being seen as the strong one, it's hard to not be strong. And let's face it, there are times when I just don't feel strong. I'm overwhelmed by life just as easily as the next guy and it would be nice sometimes to just be able to let the flood gates open in the general direction of someone I know will catch me, you know? But it can change a relationship when the strong one is now weak. You see that person differently. You might see that person as more human, or, you might start to question whether or not it was wise to lean on this person in the first place. I don't ever want any of my friends to think they can't turn to me. I love being there for them. Often times, it is all I have to offer. But I'm guessing you can see my problem -- if I want them to know they can always turn to me, I fell like I can't always turn to them.

Please, please, please don't take this as a "Kitty is doubting our friendship" thing. I love you guys. I know you love me. I know you would all bend over backwards to help me if I needed it. I love you for that. This is my own personal hang up about asking for help. I'm not comfortable showing everyone my weaknesses. Hence my comment about me being a guarded person.

Which makes me wonder exactly what it is I am afraid will happen if I show my weaknesses? I know I have them. What is so terrible about letting other people know I have them? Will they think less of me? Is it a power thing? Fuck, if anyone is reading this right now, they're getting a full-frontal view of just how insecure I can be. If I'm not strong, I'm worthless. That's fucked up. I need to work on being okay with having weaknesses. I need to work on being okay with needing help from time to time, and with being able to ask for it. It's a hard thing to figure out, though, who you can be weak around and who you can't.

Perfect time for me to have a crisis of faith, huh? Not like I'm not doing anything else right now...

There's nothing to bring up your spirits like getting smacked around a little bit. Really. Okay, well, maybe not really smacked around, but kind of. Stage combat type stuff. This show I'm in right now, I get beaten up because some guy wants my overcoat. Yeah, silly motivation, but just go with it. So he shoves me into a wall and smacks me and kicks me three times. None of it is stuff that actually hurts me. The thing with being the victim in stage combat is that you are completely in control of it. It looks as bad as you make it look. And I make it look painful. I love it. And honestly, the physicality of it, along with the vocalizations, are a great outlet for stress.

So next time you're feeling uber stressed, sign up for a stage combat class and get beaten up for a couple of minutes. No harm, no foul, and you'll walk away feeling energized, yet relaxed, and ready to face whatever else might be in store.