August 8 - The Big Scary

Okay, now that all of the people who need to know about this officially know about it, I can tell the interwebs what THE BIG SCARY is.

I'm moving to New York. In about three weeks.

We all know that I love New York, and I have said for a long time that I want to live there for a little while before I die, so I'm going now because I know if I don't go now, I probably never will. But if we're being completely honest, I can't remember a time in my life when I was more terrified of anything than I am right now.

Moving to New York is exciting. Yes, I am going to try to pursue an acting career there. My first apartment there is in Brooklyn, where I will be living with at least two, if not three, other people. I am looking for a day job that will allow me to pursue the acting career, and my brain is full of all kinds of possibilities. Maybe I should try for something at, say, Trader Joe's or Whole Foods or Starbucks so I have flexibility in my schedule. Or maybe I should go with office or temp work so I have enough money to enjoy New York while I'm there. Or maybe I should take my guitar into Central Park and play some tunes and see what happens. I'll probably do that last one regardless, because if I'm reading the regulations correctly, unless you are using an amplifier of some sort, you don't need a license to play music outside. But there are so many choices and options and possibilities in front of me right now, I'm having a little bit of a hard time focusing. And I know that many of these questions won't have answers until I get there, and while that is exciting, it is also scary. I am venturing into the unknown, and that is frightening.

I think a lot of it has to do with what I'm leaving. I'm leaving an apartment I love. I'm leaving the best circle of friends a girl could ask for. I'm leaving a brilliant, vibrant theatre scene in which I'm just starting to make a name for myself. I am leaving the comfort of my own space for shared space with people I've not actually met before. And in doing so, I'm going to have to leave behind or purge my life of all kinds of things that I thought I had settled and wouldn't have to worry about again. It's like that moment in Fight Club, where he talks about how he grew up and bought a couch, so the "buying a couch" thing could be checked off of his life list and he wouldn't have to worry about it again. Achievement accomplished: buy a couch. But since I am doing this move so much later in my life, I have a couch. I have tables. I have bins full of my history that will have nowhere (really) to live, so I have to get rid of a lot of it. Which means at some point, when I get to the next phase of my life wherein I need my own couch again, I'll have to worry about buying a new couch. Which will make me miss my old couch. I like my couch. But I'm giving it up to go on this adventure. And I'll have to worry about getting another one at some point. These are the thoughts that are clogging up my brain space and making it hard for me to not just spontaneously cry. I'm not doing well with the avoiding spontaneous crying thing.

My family and friends who know about the move are being incredibly supportive. I think they're all more excited for me than I am right now, which is kind of nice because they are reminding me to let go of some of the terror every now and again and just enjoy the fact that I'm doing something amazing. I'm following my dream. One of my friends is letting me use some garage space to store some of my history, which is so amazingly generous, I don't know how I'll be able to thank him. People have been wonderful in helping me find a place to live where Owen and I can make a new life for ourselves. And I do have friends in New York, so it's not like I'm going in totally blind. And there is always the lindy hop community - I can pick up dancing again and meet more people out there that way.

But it is entirely possible that the thing that is scaring me the most is that I am going out there to follow my dream - to be an actor - and that when I get there, I will not be cast in anything. I'm putting it all on the line and I could fail miserably. I could get out there and learn that the most I will ever achieve as an actor is to be a supporting character in storefront productions in Chicago. Not that I haven't loved being supporting characters in storefront productions in Chicago - I have - I have just been dreaming bigger for a very long time and could be smacked in the face with the lesson that there is nothing bigger for me within the next couple of years. I really hope this is not the case. Everyone to whom I have expressed this fear, that I'll not be cast in anything, thinks that it is highly unlikely that I will not get anything. Even though some of those people have never actually seen me perform, the support and positive energy is appreciated. But I'm still terrified that I will take this leap and not be able to do the thing I love most.

I'll be fine once I get there. I'm not worried about finding a job. I'm not worried about being able to pay my rent. I'm not worried about making friends and finding ways to occupy my time. I am worried that I will not be able to act. But I've also made a deal with myself that I'll try this for three years, to give it a full, fair shake, and if, after three years, I've not been cast in anything, I can always come back to Chicago. But I have to try this. I'll be very disappointed in myself if I don't at least try.

I'm terrified.

I'm excited.

But mostly terrified.

Wish me luck!

November 14 - Ugh

In typical Kitty fashion, I seem to be getting sick just in time for opening night. I know why it happens, and I know why it happens with such alarming regularity. I just wish I could figure out a way to make it stop happening.

See, by the time we get to tech week, my schedule has gone kablooie and I always end up spending a week not really sleeping. Wake up, go to work, run home, (hopefully) eat dinner before going to the theatre, rehearse until 10 or 11pm (or later), go home, try to sleep, wake up, go to work... I say "try to sleep," because I am often unsuccessful. I'm usually kind of buzzed after a performance, and as one who has problems falling asleep anyway, it makes it that much harder to quiet my brain down enough to get some sleep before I have to get up and do it all again. So by opening night, after a week of not sleeping well and sometimes not eating well, my body says, "Fuck this," and fills itself up with spare phlegm in an attempt to force me to slow down and take care of myself for a day. My skin usually likes to join in the rebellion, too, and starts sprouting volcanoes on my chin. Good fun.

And it is for this reason that I did just about every show I did in college on DayQuil. My dear friend DayQuil, helping me through theatrical performances since 1998. I'd like to avoid taking something before the show tomorrow, but I think the only way to do that may be to take a sick day.

We'll see how I feel in the morning.

April 6 - April 5

I didn't blog yesterday. I had every intention of blogging, but I fell asleep instead. It was a horrid day, and the sleep was very much needed, so I'm not going to worry too much about it.

I will apologize to you guys, though, for missing a day. Those of you who read this, if, perchance, you look forward to hearing from me on a daily basis, I let you down yesterday. I think in total post count for the year, though, I'm still doing okay. I realize, too, that it is entirely possible that a lot of (if not most of) the visits my blog gets in a day are spambots and spiders just trolling the web to see what things exist. To those spambots and spiders, I do not apologize for missing yesterday. I'm sure you had plenty to do anyway. I do apologize to the actual humans who read this.

I've got a lot on my plate for today (speaking of which, I need to make breakfast), but I am going to try to put up the post I wanted to write yesterday about discovering Mark DeRosa.

Talk to you soon.

April 3 - Argh

I'm going to keep this short today because it is getting late, but I just want to say the thing I do most often that still scares the crap out of me and elevates my heart rate not in a good way every time is standing up for myself. Whether it goes well and the person I'm talking to realizes I am just expressing my point of view and opinion, or it goes badly and the person I am talking to takes it as a personal affront, I have yet to find a good way to come down from that rush without beating myself up and apologizing left and right. For standing up for myself. Which is ridiculous. Because if I don't stand up for me and tell people what I need, who will? Nobody. So I have to. But why is it so stressful?

Anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening.