February 27 - Pale as F#$%

I have often thought that if I were to add another element of makeup to my daily routine, it should be some sort of lip color. As it stands, on the average, ordinary day, I wear eyeliner and mascara and that's it. They bring out my eyes and help keep me from looking comatose, as my high school classmates used to point out to me before I discovered makeup. It's a simple morning routine as far as my face is concerned - wash it in the shower, moisturize it afterward, eyeliner, mascara, done. But seeing as I am pale as f#$%, I have thought from time to time that I should wear a bold lip color to make myself look kind of classic. The forties were about minimal eye makeup and bold lips, very little color on the cheeks, and we all know this is a good look for me. So in my daily routine, it would make sense to do minimal eyes and a bold lip, right?

The problem with a bold lip is that the lips are used. A lot. Throughout they day they are licked and wiped and bitten and smeared and if you're not careful about what lip color you use, your day becomes about reapplying and trying to wrangle the lip color back onto your lips and off of the lip of your coffee mug. Not to mention, looking at a bright red lip print on one's coffee mug is not at all attractive or appetizing. Then again, neither is coffee, but that's beside the point. There are companies out there that make "stay put" lip colors, but a lot of these are not vegan and are therefore not an option for me. Obsessive Compulsive Cosmetics makes lip tar which stays on fairly well, though it will kiss off and/or the bright red color will turn mildly pink over time as it is slowly licked/wiped off. And truth be told, if I wanted mildly pink lips, I would choose a mildly pink lip color, not a bright red in the hopes it will fade to something less bright later.

So a couple of weeks ago, I discovered a tube of e.l.f. bright red lip stain in the dollar bin at my local drug store and I thought I'd give it a go. Why not, right? For a dollar, what did I have to lose? Not to mention my giddiness at finding vegan cosmetics at my local drug store. I also bought a tube of their silver glitter mascara just because it was there. While the glitter mascara didn't seem to do much but make me think I was seeing something out of the corner of my eye for the rest of the day, the lip stain stayed on. Gloriously. All day. To the point where it was almost difficult to take it off once I was ready to take it off. But honestly, I didn't care. I could have my beautiful, bright red lips on stage, kiss the person I'm supposed to kiss, and he wouldn't have to end the show wearing my lip stick. Huzzah! I was so excited that I scoured the dollar bins at every local drug store I could find looking for another tube, though I could only find pink. To the internet! I got a three-pack of lip stains and have decided to start wearing the darkest one on occasion, just for fun. Like today.

So thank you, e.l.f. for making fun, vegan cosmetics that actually stay where they are supposed to. It's a vegan actor's dream.

February 26 - Day 7

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

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

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

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

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

February 25 - Challenge

To fashion designers: If you cannot, have not, or would not wear a garment, please don't foist it on the rest of us. 

I think if they stuck to this, women's shoes and undergarments would be much less torturous. Just sayin'. 

February 24 - Diets

I think the worst part of a diet starts at about day four or five and continues until one decides to give up and not diet anymore.

See, for the first few days of a calorie-reduction/increased-exercise diet, it's really not that bad. It's kind of fun piecing meals together so that they fit within your daily allowances and still have nutritional value. You feel like you have control over things as you measure out a quarter cup of nuts for an afternoon snack. And when you step on the scale each morning, you see instant progress as you lose water weight and bloat. You start to think, "This is totally doable."

But then you hit day four or five and you start to think, "I've worked out hard for the last few days; I should probably give myself a rest day now," so you remind yourself how easy it is to just sit and watch television instead of running while doing so. And while you still remain within your calorie limits, you start to get annoyed with how frequently you have to wash your measuring cups and why the hell did you buy measuring cups you can't put in the dishwasher in the first place? And probably the biggest blow to your momentum - when you step on the scale in the morning, it says the same exact thing it said yesterday. Now that the water weight and bloat are gone, it's time to actually burn fat and lose real weight, so the progress you see goes much slower. And it sucks. You start to think about all of the hard work you've been putting in and you're seeing no results anymore so you question whether or not it is worth it. Doesn't chocolate cake make you feel just as good as stepping on the scale and seeing a smaller number? And chocolate cake is more immediate.

This is where I am right now.

On Thursday of last week, I started keeping track of my food intake again. I woke up and jogged in my living room for thirty minutes, followed by about twenty minutes of hula hooping. Nothing fancy, just keeping the hoop going for about twenty minutes. I did this on Friday and Saturday, too, and managed to stay within my calorie range even through Sunday (though I gave myself a day off from working out). And this morning, my scale said what it did yesterday. About two and a half pounds down from Thursday, but the same as it was yesterday. Meaning, I know the hard part it just starting.

I'm not sure where I'm drawing my motivation from. As I posted last week, there are no guarantees in life, so who's to say losing weight will affect any other aspect of my life? Then again, who's to say it won't? But I want to do this. I want to try, anyway. I haven't figured out my exact goal weight, or what sort of reward to give myself if I reach it, but I know I'd like to be in better shape than I am right now. So no matter how miserable it is, measuring out each and every grape I consume, forcing myself to hoop or run or dance for twenty minutes every day, I'm going to try to stick with this beyond day four or five.

Wish me luck!

February 23 - Theatre

I was talking to some friends last night after our show about the differences between different kinds of theatre - community vs. storefront vs. professional - and while I know these differences exist, I kind of hate talking about them with fellow actors because it always makes it sound like I prefer one type to another. Truth be told, I have had wonderful and terrible experiences in each of these settings. I was paid for a show once where there was so much in-fighting between the people involved that I believe the married couple divorced shortly thereafter. I've done storefront theatre for audiences of four where I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself and I made great friends. I've done student films that felt more organized and professional than some of the indie films I've done, and some student films where I felt the director should have taken better notes in class. So it isn't a matter of preferring one setting in which to act over another, each show is a differnt beast. But I think the thing I look for most from project to project is an opportunity to learn and grow as a performer. 

I've been offered another opportunity, just a couple of meetings, with a theatre company I quite respect, and it will fit in perfectly before my next major project starts. I'm kind of over the moon excited, thinking that even though it will be a brief encounter, I will have a lot of opportunity to learn and collaborate and perhaps make some strong connections with fellow artists. Right now, I feel like that is what theatre is to me, and what I most need in my career. Because it's not about the size of the theatre or the size of the audience, but the strength of the connections and the opportunity to learn. 

I love that I get to do things like this. 

February 22 - Dreams

I often find myself dreaming of the little things that will change when my big dreams come true, like not having to remind people at big events that I requested a vegan meal, or going to an audition and getting to audition at my alotted time. Sigh. Someday...

February 21 - Opening Night

It's opening night for my first foray into dinner theatre and I am surprisingly not very nervous. I usually get opening night jitters, but they haven't hit yet. I'm guessing they won't until I get to the theatre/restaurant. 

In any case, I'm going to keep this short and say a big thank you to the director, producers, sound people, lighting people, music director, choreographers, cast, props people, hair people, and myriad others who all pitched in to make this project happen. This is one of the big annual fundraisers for this theatre company, and we have already sold more tickets than last year's show, and I'm honored to be part of a project that helps ensure live theatre will still be accessible for those who wish to see it. 

Let's all break a lot of legs tonight!

February 20 - Personal Time

I took a couple of days off of work this week, in part because if I didn't use them soon, I would lose them, and in part so I have enough time to get myself ready for my shows tonight and tomorrow. Weekdays off are just about the greatest thing in the world. 

When I was in Dublin, my friend and I visited the Guinness Storehouse and I learned that the Guinness company was the first company, or one of the first companies, to offer paid vacation leave because they figured out that employees were happier and more productive when they had time to spend with their families.  Thank you, Mr. Guinness, for that, and for your very tasty beer which may be the undoing of my vegan-ness. Can I be a vegan whose weakness is a non-vegan beer made by an awesome, ethical, Irish company? Will I have to return my vegan membership card if I drink more than one Guinness a year?

Anyway, I've had a day off and even though it is only half over, it has been glorious thus far. I cleaned my bathroom. Thoroughly. I was trying to remember the last time I put that much time into cleaning my bathroom (as opposed to the cursory once-over I do in a pinch), and it had to be just before I went to the UK. But everything is glistening and white and it smells antiseptic in there, which feels so good. I also made more of the best scones on the planet, set my hair in pin curls for tonight, painted my nails, ran for thirty minutes, hula hooped for ninteen minutes, took out the garbage, and watched the second episode of Hamlet: The Series. I'm on my second cup of tea, tracking my food intake for the day, and making sure to get in some quality snuggling time with my cat. This is what life feels like. I miss this when I'm not home for fifteen or sixteen hours at a stretch. 

Not that I don't love what I do. I remind myself every day how lucky I am to have all of these theatrical projects into which I can invest my time and energy. But it feels really good to be domestic for a day. Catch up on the things that fall by the wayside when I get busy. Tomorrow, I think I'll tackle my kitchen and the floors. Laundry on Saturday and organizing the front rooms. By next week, I'll feel like a real, live person again. 

February 19 - Music

For reasons not essential to this blog post, I pulled some music I wrote a long time ago off of a computer I've not touched in years and listened to it yesterday. It was...

If you've been following my blog all these many years (is it twelve now? Is this blog twelve years old? It is! My first post was on February 6, 2002. Sweet jebus.), you probably know there was a time in my life when I wanted to be a rock star. To that end, I had a band. We played my songs in all sorts of venues around Chicago and I loved my band mates with all of my heart and soul. You may also remember that the first iteration of my band broke up and my heart broke in the process. I tried finding a couple of new members, but that version of my band broke up in glorious, rock star fashion over a spat at a gig. To lose my band twice within a year was rather devastating and I've not played much since. A bit here and there, mostly just in my living room now for my cat. I've played a bit more recently since I received a lovely email and started listening to Frank Turner, but music is still a little painful for me. Or a lot painful for me, depending on the day.

When I think back to the time when I was writing and playing a lot, I remember being frustrated at how difficult it was to get people to listen. Yes, I had a small circle of friends who listened to my stuff and always seemed to want more, and I treasure them for that. But I wanted to know how to get real producers to listen, or people who didn't feel obligated to listen because we were friends or they were my family members. I notice this even now, when I find a musician I like and want to spread the word about them - it's really hard to get people to invest three minutes of their life in listening to something they've not heard before. I wonder if it is because we're so inundated with visual and auditory stimuli that we spend a good deal of time just looking for the familiar. But whatever the reason, I remember being really frustrated that I couldn't reach a wider audience because at the time, I thought at least some of what I was writing was really good.

Listening to the songs again now, some of them ten years old or better, I am conflicted. Part of me can recognize the wordsmithing and the attempts at interesting chord progressions. Part of me thinks some of the stuff I wrote way back when was actually pretty good. Part of me is wracking my brain, trying to remember if I ever wrote down my chord progressions and lyrics because half of these songs, I don't remember how to play anymore. And part of me cringes at the sub-par guitar playing, the rampant angst, the over-exaggeration of what the situations actually were that inspired certain songs. And the metaphors! Sweet jebus, I liked the metaphors. Granted, a lot of the songs I pulled off my old computer were probably never played live for anyone, and one has to write a lot of crap to get one diamond, but still. Wow.

But it did get me thinking. I have a few friends who know (or knew) me first and foremost as a musician, and that is how they still see me, and I wonder what they would think if new, previously unreleased "demo tape" type recordings were released somewhere. Like discovering Liz Phair's Girlysounds? Or if I did post the songs somewhere, even for a short period of time, would they sit there un-listened-to until I took them down in sadness? Would some of the craftier ones be hailed for the songwriting and lyrical beauty, or would I be lambasted as a hack for the kind of bad ones? Could some of the words in some of these songs help someone who is hurting?

I think that would be the most compelling reason to post some of them. I wrote about a lot of pain, and some of it I think is really effective. Would it be helpful to other people who may be in similar situations to hear those songs? If it would, I would gladly do so. If not, I'm not sure. I'm not sure I'm ready to throw my musician hat back out into the world to be judged again. Maybe in another ten years...

February 18 - Update

I have many thoughts on many things but not much time, so I really just want to say please watch this. It has been a long time in the making and I'm so excited that the first piece is up. Please watch, share, and discuss!

February 17 - Snow

I feel like a broken record talking about the weather in Chicago all of the time, but it is kind of one of the major things going on in my life right now, in that I often find myself needing to be out and about in really horrid conditions. I keep hearing reports on the radio, too, about how far over budget Chicago has gone with snow removal so far this year, and about various suburbs that have exhausted their budgets. I find myself wondering if it is for that reason that so few roads are plowed during storms. They seem to be waiting to send out the plows and salt trucks until after the bulk of the storm has subsided, which saves money, yes, but makes for bad driving conditions when I have to get 20 miles outside of the city at least four times per week. One starts to get exhausted by the whole process.

On the up side, tomorrow is supposed to be a bit warmer, so maybe the eight or so inches we are supposed to get today will start to melt a bit. I really can't afford to not go to the theatre - we open on Friday - but I'd really like to be able to get there without clutching the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white every now and again. Please?

February 16 - Live Theater

I've seen a bunch of live theatre lately, in large part thanks to Chicago Theatre Week and I have to say, I love it. I love going to the theatre. I love the buzz, I love the energy, I love watching the stories unfold. And I love watching my fellow actors do what they love to do. 

I've gone to most of these recent shows solo, too, which is nice. I don't have to worry about someone else's schedule, or seeing something they don't want to. The only down side is not being able to discuss the show afterward, but it does allow me to tell other people about the show in depth, which is nice. 

In any case, I feel very cultured going to the theatre more regularly. I should make a point if doing more of this. As should you. 

February 15 - Guarantee

I want a guarantee. 

I want a guarantee that at least one of my great big lofty dreams will come true. I want a guarantee that all of the work I have put in will result in one moment of glorious joy. I want a guarantee that if I lose twenty pounds, I will be cast in something opposite one of my idols. I want a guarantee that if I make a leap of faith, things will get better instead of worse. 

I want a guarantee. 

But there are no guarantees in life. It is entirely possible that I will spend my life in unpaid storefront theatres performing for audiences of three, working with other amazing artists who also somehow never get seen. It is entirely possible that I will never find a life partner. It is entirely possible that I will bounce from day job to day job, thankful for the employment but quietly dying inside. It is entirely possible that I could work out like crazy and starve myself to get the Hollywood body and still be miserable. There are no guarantees in life. 

So all I can do is dream and hope and work really hard. The trying is the only part over which I have control, so all I can do is try my hardest. 

It'd still be nice to have just one guarantee, though. 

February 14 - The Dreaded VD

Valentine's Day. No, I'm not diseased, I'm just bitter.

Actually, not all that bitter. My dear friend had a baby boy this morning, and I'm kind of over the moon for her and her family. They've been waiting for this blessing for a really long time and I'm so excited that they finally get to say hello to him. I can't wait to meet him! Which means a trip to Texas, which is warmer than Chicago, yes?

So last year I had a Valentine and this year I do not. Things happen. But I would like to fill my blog with love today for not quite a something, not quite a someone, but for a place full of things and people that always brightens my day. There is a Vietnamese restaurant right near where I work that may be my favorite restaurant in Chicago - Saigon Sisters. It is the kind of place I have started visiting too frequently but I don't really care because:

1) The food is delicious. Seriously. I do not have words to describe the deliciousness so you'll just have to trust me, but every time I go in there, my meal is absolute perfection whether I'm dining in or doing carry-out.
2) There is more than one thing on the menu that I can eat. This might not sound like a big deal, but for a vegan surrounded by chain restaurants that typically only have one thing I can eat (usually sans any real form of protein), this is a huge deal for me. I like having options, and there are at least three, maybe four things I can eat at Saigon Sisters. It makes me feel "normal."
3) The people who work there. The gentleman behind the counter and I have the lovely sort of relationship where we chat when he's not busy. He told me a couple of weeks ago that he thought of me while he and his husband were having a Torchwood marathon, and when he asked about my weekend last week and I told him I had a big audition coming up, he remembered it and asked how everything went when I was in there this week. Again, this may not seem like a big deal, but as I often deal with people who yell at me on the phone for things that aren't my fault or can't seem to remember that I'm vegan (even though they make fun of me for it on a weekly basis) when it comes to ordering group lunches, to have this man who has no real motivation for being kind to me be kind to me...it makes my day. Granted, he's probably kind because I'm in there a lot and he would like to make sure I continue to dine there, but he goes above and beyond the normal kindness shown by restaurant staff. And he is not the only one. I am always greeted by name when I go in there by at least two people, if not more. If the owner is in, he'll come over, shake my hand, and ask how my mom is doing. When she and I dine there together, we get star treatment even though we've only been in a few times. It is just a really quality group of people who work at Saigon Sisters and they are at least half of the reason I eat there as often as I do. (The other half is the food. Seriously, I don't have the words to contain all of that delicious.)

So I would like to ask this restaurant if it would be my Valentine today, for always feeding me well, and for always putting a smile on my face. Thank you, Saigon Sisters. Keep on doing what you do, and all of your patrons will continue to adore you as I do.

February 13 - Everything in It's Place

I went to this big audition last weekend whereat dozens of casting directors all watched hundreds of actors do monologues. In preparation for this event, I went to a workshop/clinic thing so I could get an idea of what to expect on the big day. One of the things we talked about was THE CHAIR. In the audition room, there was a chair on stage that people were welcome to use or not use as their monologues required, and it was suggested that if one did not plan on using the chair, one should move it out of the way before starting. Makes sense, right? Because otherwise, the audience would spend the whole audition wondering why there was a chair there if it wasn't used and/or when it would be used and they might miss the lovely performance happening in front of them.

I saw a show at one of the top theatres in Chicago last night, and when I walked into the theatre, the glory of the set made me say, "Oh wow," out loud to myself. It was supposed to be the interior of a house, with a kitchen and living room, a front door and a hallway, and a bedroom upstairs, all painstakingly decorated with specific elements to allow us a peek at the inner lives of the characters we were about to watch. But through the whole performance, the whole two hours and fifteen minutes of the play, nobody used the upstairs bedroom. It was referenced, and the lighting scheme in the bedroom would change as the scenes changed, but absolutely no action took place there. And I was tempted to stay for the post-show discussion just so I could ask why they had gone to all of the trouble to build this stunning part of the set to not use it. But I didn't. 

The show had other problems, too, but I bring these things up to illustrate a point: Superfluous design elements can distract an audience from the point of your art. Maybe this is a cry for minimalism, though I don't classify myself as a minimalist per se. I can appreciate design for the sake of design. But especially when it come to film or theatre, people will be watching intently, trying to pick up on every minute detail that might offer insight into the themes or artist's purpose. So if you don't need it and don't use it, you might want to think about whether you need it at all. Make sure the audience looks where you want them to look.

Just a thought. 

February 12 - Routine

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

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

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

February 11 - Germs

I don't think I've seen this many germophobes in public restrooms in quite some time. Just in the past couple of days, I've seen an inordinate number of women use paper towels to turn off faucets, hold the garbage can open to throw things away, and open the door to leave the ladies room. Is it because it is winter time and everybody is trying to avoid catching everyone else's colds, or is this normal behavior and I just don't go out enough to notice?

Granted, I don't like being sick any more than anyone else does, but I'm not terrified of germs. There are more bacteria living in my intestines than in all of the toilets in Wrigley Field put together. Probably - I've not actually done a study. But the point I'm trying to make is that bacteria and germs and viruses are everywhere and I have better things to do with my time than dedicate brain space to avoiding them. So I get a cold every now and again; if I had never been ill as a child, I would likely get a lot sicker now than I do. And if I allow myself to get really pissy and self-righteous about it, I'll say it is because I have come to terms with the fact that we have to exist in harmony with germs that they don't bother me so much, either mentally or physically. But that's just if I'm getting pissy about it. 

So in the meantime, to all the people out there using paper towels to open the bathroom door or turn off the faucet (that was last touched by a pair of hands that had just been washed and your very own germ-bombs), just know that I am secretly laughing at you as you do so. We all have our compulsions - maybe that is mine. 

February 10 - Surly

You know, for someone who spends as much time as I do trying to be authentic and in the moment and honest and emotionally available, I also spend an awful lot of time pretending to be okay. Not that I'm not okay in general, but there are those interactions throughout the day that wear on a person and can make someone grumpy. I try very hard to not let those little annoyances become misdirected throughout the day, which means I spend a fair amount of time pretending to be okay when really, I'm seething on the inside, or ready to cry. 

I noticed this especially today because I spent the day being a customer service person. There was one call in particular where I think the man on the other end needed somebody to talk to, because he just talked a blue streak at me for thirteen minutes. I told him there wasn't really anything I could do for him and he told me about his home and his pre-retirement career and his son's love life and his plans for the future. He wasn't complaining, just chatting. And while he was a very nice man, I found myself wanting desperately to remind him that this was a customer service line and as the only person answering phones today, I should probably not have a nice long chat with a stranger. I didn't. I let him talk until he was done, but I felt like I should have said something. And when I hung up with him and the phone rang again almost instantly, I swore quietly under my breath before putting a smile on my face and answering with a cheery, "Thank you for calling, how can I help you?" Pretending to not be exhausted. 

I do this in my regular life, too. I try not to bring my work day annoyances to rehearsal with me because to vent them in the direction of my cast mates would be inappropriate. And at the dating event I went to last night, I found myself being nice and socially acceptable for a longer time period than I might have liked, especially considering I had to be nice and socially appropriate earlier in the day as well. 

I'm currently psyching myself up to be cheerful and friendly at rehearsal even though I'd really just kind of like to be surly for a bit. But what does that say about my insistence that I be true to myself and react honestly in the moment if I squash my surliness in favor of having people not think I'm a jerk? Am I being false, or am I making an informed decision about how to behave in public?

Hopefully, I can be surly for a bit sometime soon so I can get it out of my system. 

February 9 - Auditions

From auditioning in front of casting reps to auditioning in front of potential boyfriends, it has been a long day of trying to be my best self in front of strangers so they'll want to talk to me again. I'm tired. And I hope I get as many inquiries from the casting reps as I got from potential boyfriends, if not more. 

February 8 - Saturday

I can barely remember the last time I had a Saturday to just be a Saturday. It probably wasn't actually that long ago, but it feels like it. I had one today. I slept in past noon. I lounged with my cat for a good portion of the afternoon and didn't shower until 4:30. And it was glorious. 

Tomorrow, I'm auditioning for about 48 casting reps from around the state. No pressure. But it is in part for that reason that I think a down day today was such a good thing. Though I also sometimes think I should have Saturdays more often. 

February 7 - Helpful (Or Not)

I want to be able to tell you that it's better this way in a way you'll understand. I want to remind you that someone who doesn't want to be with you is not worth your time. I want to tell you that it's okay to be sad for a while and it's okay to not jump right back in. I want to tell you that spending time with yourself just might help you find a more rewarding relationship down the road. I want to remind you that remembering what you love about yourself can help illustrate just how different what you are from what he wants, and I want the logic of that situation to help you stop pining for someone who has moved on. 

But I know that these words won't help. And I know they sound really hollow coming from someone who has been single for 95% of her life. Kind of like when those of you who have spent your lives in relationships tell me to "hang in there, you'll find someone someday." Because we're coming at this from completely different angles and since neither of us has had the other's experience so true empathy is difficult to achieve. I'm sorry about that. 

But mostly I hope you realize sometime soon that looking to the past to find happiness with someone who is no longer present will never bring you the peace you seek. So be sad for as long as you need to be sad, but be sad now so you can be happy later. Because until you've been sad long enough to get sick of it, you'll never be able to find any sort of closure, even a temporary one. 

Or something. 

February 5 - Haiku

Run here, go there NOW

Fight exhaustion with caffeine

Next: learn to say no

February 4 - Full Disclosure

It's funny the things we sometimes forget to mention to people who we haven't known very long as we're getting to know them. I was thinking about it the other day and I have approximately thirty-two years of dance experience in varying styles. No, I didn't study ballet at Julliard or anything, but I was a semi-professional lindy hopper for a while, and a collegiate shag instructor, and I studied tap, and I took ballroom lessons with my dad, and I took ballet as a kid. And when you put it all together, I've been dancing in one form or another for thirty-two years, give or take. But it's not the sort of thing you necessarily mention when you first meet someone. "Hi, my name is Kitty and I've been dancing for over three decades. Can I substitute the sweet potato fries for regular fries?" It doesn't roll off the tongue nicely. 

And what's really annoying is that things like this generally only come up in situations where sharing information like that makes you sound like a tool. Which is unfortunate because some of these things are things of which we should be proud. Keeping up with something for the decades is a big deal. But if I mention it in "polite" society, I sound like I'm bragging or pretentious. Oh well. 

For those of you keeping score, I've done loads of things in my life of which I am justifiably proud. And someday, maybe when I'm an old lady sitting on my front porch drinking lemonade, I'll be able to tell you about all of them without feeling like a jerk. 

February 3 - Quiz

Here's the scenario: You have something in your hands that needs to be delivered to a specific location. The thing, be it an envelope or a package or a unicorn, whatever, has the address where it needs to be delivered printed on the side so hopefully you won't get lost or forget where you're going (poor branded unicorn). You arrive at the address printed on the item and see a sign on the door with the family or company name that matches what is printed on the item, and the phrase, "Please knock for entry." What do you do?

A) Pull on the doors. They're likely open anyway.
B) Knock. That's what the sign says. Duh.
C) Drop the delivery item somewhere near the door and walk away. It's close enough, right?

Answers below:






If you picked "A," there is a sub-question. You've pulled on the doors and found them locked. Do you:
A) Stand and look confused. Doors. They're tricky man.
B) Knock. That's what the sign says. Duh.
C) Drop the delivery item somewhere near the door and walk away. It's close enough, right?

Okay, really, answers below:






If you picked "A," again, go away. Seriously. Go back to elementary school and learn how to read signs and follow directions. I know it's not cool to follow the rules and obey signs and whatnot, but this is one of those "helpful" signs, like the great big red octagons you see on street corners telling you to "Stop" so as to help avoid you being killed by oncoming traffic. "Knock" does not mean "pull." There is a difference. If you don't know it, I know why you're delivering stuff for a living and why you will probably still be delivering stuff for a living (albeit for a different company) when you're in your seventies.

If you picked "B," what the fuck are you doing delivering packages for a living? You're too smart for this and your talents are being wasted. But seriously, thank you for doing your job. Honestly, it may not seem like a big deal, but knowing our stuff is getting to us in a timely fashion makes the rest of us breathe a little easier. So thank you.

If you picked "C," congratulations! You are well on your way to a career as a delivery person with any of the major package delivery services currently in business in the United States. It doesn't really matter if the intended recipient gets the package as long as you put in a minimal amount of effort. If someone else makes off with the package before the intended recipient discovers it abandoned outside their door, it's not your fault. You can always fill in the "left at front desk" option on your tracking form because really, front desk, outside the front door, what's the difference? The important thing is finishing your route early so you can get home and watch Maury.

Thanks for playing!

February 2 - And Therefore...

"And therefore as a stranger give it welcome."

Many people have heard the bit from Hamlet that goes, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Some say "our philosophy," some say "your," but the basic thought behind it is the same - there are things out there that we cannot understand or explain. People like to pull out this passage when talking about the occult or the paranormal, and often times (at least these days) it has a tinge of facetiousness about it. It's the end of an argument that someone doesn't want to be in anymore, a sort of Q.E.D. "Well, there's stuff out there we can't explain, so let's just move on to the next topic, shall we?"

But not nearly as many people know the bit that immediately proceeds this line, the line "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome." In the context of the play, Hamlet has just been told by his father's ghost that his father was murdered by his uncle. Hamlet is obviously devastated by this news and suddenly wondering who he can trust when Horatio and Marcellus show up, wanting to know what happened and what is wrong. Hamlet does his best to not say too much, and in his first show of "antic disposition," swears Horatio and Marcellus to secrecy, as they also saw the ghost that night. Horatio, thrown by the strange happenings of the evening and Hamlet's odd behavior remarks, "O day and night, but this is wonderous strange," the Elizabethan equivalent of, "What the hell is going on, Hamlet? You're being weird." Hamlet replies, "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome." He's pleading for Horatio to make a leap of faith, to show Hamlet that he can trust Horatio, to be on Hamlet's side. He's asking, "Yes, it's weird, but can you just accept it anyway?"

I like that sentiment. I like encouraging others to accept things that may be strange to them. Because think of all of the things that were once strange to you that you have now come to love, trust, and rely on - things as impersonal as your smartphone to things as beloved as your spouse or children. These things were once strange to you, but by giving them welcome, your life is now so much richer. So the next time something strange presents itself, perhaps adopting a welcoming attitude as opposed to one of fear and mistrust will bring something into your life you never knew you needed. 

"And therefore as a stranger give it welcome." A good thing to be reminded of from time to time, and words I am proud to have owned once. 

February 1 - Doubt

...and then the little seed of doubt plants itself in my brain. Making me question if I am really being helpful when I think I am. Making me self-conscious of the lip stain and glitter mascara I messed around with just for fun. Making me wonder if a dozen cupcakes will be enough to show my friends I tried. 

Happy February. It's all uphill from here, right?

January 31 - Love

I'm not exactly sure why this question came to me today, nor why I feel compelled to write about it because my guess is that when I see it all written down, I will find it horribly distasteful. It's probably something to do with the fact that I've been watching teen dramas of late and the relationships in them are so set up and forced and angsty. Two people meet in one episode and are professing undying eternal love in the next - is that really how it works? But I started to wonder about how people love me. Not in the pity-party "how could anyone ever love me" way, but in the very clinical "what does it feel like to love me" way. 

I'm not counting family in this, or platonic friends, just so you know. 

I believe there have been four men in my life who have told me they loved me in a romantic context. One is now married with a kid. One was married and divorced and is now remarried, probably with a kid. One was almost married, last I heard, until his fiancée called it off and he was devastated. And one was married when I knew him, heading toward a divorce that he is apparently no closer to or farther away from than he was at that time. One of these men, I had to stop talking to when we broke up because I was afraid of what appeared to be obsessive behavior on his part. The other three stopped talking to me. Or we stopped talking to each other. 

I have to wonder, specifically with those other three, if they stopped talking to me because they had to rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak, and break all ties because it was just all too painful, or because they really weren't that into me in the first place so once we were done, it was no great loss. I feel very conceited as I say I honestly think it could go either way, and I know it was probably different for each of them. But I wonder if I am the sort of person with whom people fall in love hard and deep, or if I'm more of a fleeting fancy, like the fickle freshmen in the teen dramas I've been watching. 

Like I said, I don't know exactly what made me wonder this today, unless it's the evil, evil television. In a way, I hope I'm the sort people fall hard for, because I like the idea that I might make people feel things. As an actor, I always want to feel things and make other people feel things, and that sort of bleeds into my non-actor life, too, I guess. And I think I'm secretly hoping that I still might find a guy someday who falls so hard he has no choice but to put in the effort to be with me, and that I fall so hard for him, I have no choice but to do the same for him. "Love is about all the changes you make and not just three small words." 

Ugh. I think I just outed myself as a romantic. See? I told you this would be distasteful when written down. 

January 30 - Words

WARNING: This blog post contains strong language that may not be appropriate for young eyes/ears. 

I had a teacher in high school who firmly believed that schools should teacher a class in creative cursing so that kids would have more interesting ways to insult one another than but just saying "fuck you" all of the time. I agree. The English language has so many lovely words that can be strung together to paint a much more interesting picture than "fuck you." Like, imagine calling someone a flaming pile of maggot sputum instead of calling them an asshole. Fun, right? And it makes you use your brain to think of really disgusting  or descriptive things. 

That being said, I will say that there are times when "fuck" or "shit" is the best word to capture the situation. I think these words have their place and when used sparingly and appropriately, they can be very effective. 

Today, there were not enough fucks in my vocabulary to deal with all of the fucks around me. Using the word fuck as a noun, verb, adjective and adverb all within the same sentence did not cover the fucks I had to deal with. I tried replacing all of the "buffalo" in the perfectly cromulent sentence "Buffal buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo" with "fuck" and it still wasn't enough. It was that kind of a day. Today, Malcolm Tucker was my hero for his wordplay and I was disappointed in my ability to keep up with his astoundingly creative cursing. I did not have enough fucks and could have used the assistance of a seasoned curser like Malcolm Tucker. 

On the up side, the day is almost over. Almost. But not quite. 

Fuck. 

January 29 - Happy Things

It's been a rough week/month so far, so today, I think I need to list some happy things. 

It was three degrees Fahrenheit outside when I woke up this morning, which is not, in and of itself, a happy thing, but when compared to the negative eleven degrees Fahrenheit I woke up to yesterday, it is. 

I am one-third done with covering for my coworker who is on vacation. 

I think I made the people in cars around me think I was insane with my car dancing on my way out to rehearsal. But seriously, if you're stuck going two miles per hour, why not crank the tunes and have a bit of a dance?

The music I was listening to was Frank Turner. He always makes me smile. 

I have (I believe) two little clementine seeds germinating away in my apartment on either side of my pineapple. There is something about growing pineapple and clementine plants in my apartment during a particularly harsh Chicago winter that brings me an enormous amount of joy. 

I had two evenings this week to spend with my cat. It melts me every time he snuggles up next to me and falls asleep with his head on my arm. 

I get to start work on another Shakespeare project soon. And it sounds like Hamlet: The Series is progressing nicely. 

People seem to be enjoying Just a Fling.

I was called someone's good luck charm the other day. 

As annoying and exhausting as it can be sometimes, I was helpful at work. 

And I believe they're playing Mike Doughty in here. I like it when artists I like get radio play. 

So those are a few happy things today, to try to offset the Grumptopotomus that has taken up residence in my heart. I should name him one of these days so our conversations can be more productive. 

January 28 - Broken

I feel like a broken record, bitching about the weather day in and day out. It's really cold outside, kids. Not as cold as Antarctica, but cold enough to be really annoying for Chicagoans. And frankly, as a person who hates being cold more than just about anything, I'm getting really tired of it. I'd like to know when the warm weather is going to happen, just so I know there is an end in sight. I know there is an end in sight - it can't stay this cold forever - but I want to know when it is, so if it doesn't happen by that date, I can be justifiably pissed and figure out a way to sue the weather forecasters or something. And I'm not just talking about above-freezing temperatures; I want to know when we're going to hit eighty degrees Fahrenheit (twenty-seven-ish degrees Celsius for our friends across the pond). I want to know when I will be warm all the time.

And then on top of the persistent annoyance of being cold, there are all sorts of other minor annoyances creeping into my life today. Nothing to talk about on the interwebs, per se, but enough little things that when added together, they feel like a big thing that just has me grumpy. Grumptopotomus City, goin' on in here. And weren't you guys supposed to be drawing pictures of grumptopotomi to make me giggle? Get on that!

So then I found seeds in my clementines at lunch today. I believe they are advertised as seedless, but whatever. I found seeds. And I think, to try to lift my spirits a bit, I'm going to try to grow them. My pineapple is doing quite well under the grow light this winter, and wouldn't it be fun to have a little clementine tree in my apartment as well? Just the sort of thing to help lift me out of the mid-winter funk. Grow a citrus tree inside.

So I may be a bit broken by the weather, but broken people can get better if they really want to, right Frank?

January 27 - Bears

I think that bears have the right idea. Not the Bears, obviously - they didn't make it to the post-season - but bears, as in the big furry animals who roar and eat fish and hibernate when it gets too freakin' cold outside. I know, I know, there are places in the world colder than Chicago right now. Last time I checked, Chicago was the sixth coldest city in the US this winter. But I say that is plenty cold. And with no end in sight, it's getting a little bit draining to have to get up and go about our everyday lives on a daily basis. Checking the weather to find "dangerous wind chills" doesn't really make me too enthusiastic about doing things like going to work, going to the grocery store, doing laundry, or (let's be honest) being conscious. When one's waking mind is constantly filled with thoughts of "how am I going to stay warm enough?" one gets tired. Just generally tired.

But bears (and other hibernating critters), they have it down. Eat as much as you want all summer and fall, and then sleep for three months. Yes, there are those who might object to having to deal with a poop plug, but I would happily put up with a poop plug for a few months if it meant A) I could sleep for three-five months and B) I didn't have to go outside in this. Or shovel snow. Or wear a minimum of two pairs of socks and three tops every day. That's a lot of clothing to go through, people. Do you know how often I have to do laundry, just so I can stay warm enough walking from my apartment to my car? It's nuts!

So yeah, bears. Teach us your ways so we can just skip the next polar vortex all together. And Mother Nature? You can hit us with above-freezing temperatures any time now. We're ready. Thanks!

January 26 - Haiku

Snow snow snow snow snow

Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow

Enough already!

January 25 - Theatre

I saw an amazing performance last night of a new play I hope to be in a production of someday. It was exactly the kind of theatre I want to be doing, and the kind of role I've not had in a while. And while I have had a lot of fun in the productions I've been working on lately, it sort of lit a fire under me. Helped give me an idea of where I want to focus in the coming months/years. And it made me a little sad that I'm not quite there yet. 

But then I got to act today. Twice. In an audition clinic and in a short film. Neither were Oscar-worthy performances, but as I was talking to one of the guys on the film crew, he apologized that we had to go outside and walk through the front door into the house again since it was so cold outside. And I responded without even thinking about it that I didn't mind because making movies and performing on stage is what I love to do. And it's true. No matter the size of the role, no matter the project, I love acting. So while my career may not quite be where I want it to be yet, I'm still enjoying the hell out of it. I'm working with great people, having a lot of fun, and learning loads. 

I'll get where I want to be someday. And I'm loving the journey while I get there. 

January 24 - Break Up

Hi. 

This is kind of long overdue. Don't act like you didn't see it coming - we've been drifting apart for quite some time now. I know you've noticed. Every time I check in, I have more and more to catch up on before we can get to the usual frustrations. Me trying the same old things, you not playing along. Me trying new methods, you teasing me with a shred of hope that is quickly, expertly dashed. Me thinking that throwing money at the situation will make things better, but it never does. Not really. It's a temporary fix at best. It's time. I think we both know that. 

Why now? Why not before? Well, to be honest, I've found something new. Similar to you in a lot of ways, but newer, fresher, more cooperative. If that makes me a bad person, I can live with that. I know this relationship is going to end badly, too, but in the short term, I like how it makes me feel. I like the instant gratification and sense of accomplishment. I like feeling like I'm making progress and not stuck in some stupid rut for weeks on end. And the silly little dog that pops up to wiggle his hips every time I get a Pepper Panic is so dumb, so dumb, I just have to keep coming back. 

Yes, I was drawn to your horrible music at first, and the super creepy voice. Something about these absolutely horrible elements kept me coming back for more. Like I was punishing myself for who knows what. And I can see that in my love for the hip-wagging dog; I know this is going to end badly and I know I'm punishing myself all over again, but...I can't help it. I'm hooked. 

This has nothing to do with your attempts to trademark everyday words, preventing others from using them. Yes, I think that is dickish, even knowing what I do about intellectual property and branding. My new obsession uses your words and is in fact made by the same company. I'm sorry if that makes it hurt more. 

I'm not sure what else there is to say. I may be back someday, when I'm feeling nostalgic. But, Candy Crush Saga, I think we need to play other games for a little while. You're just not fun anymore. We had some good times, but you are now simply an exercise in frustration for me. I don't need that in my life right now. 

Take care of yourself. I hope that Dreamland bit works out well for you. I know you'll be fine - you have lots of other players. Thank you for the good times. It's just time for a break. 

Sincerely, 

Kitty

January 23 - Theatre Research

They say if you're really into theatre, you should go see theatre in addition to being in theatre. One problem with this assertion is that often times, being in theatre makes it difficult to go see other theatre. Not only is there the scheduling issue (rehearsals and performances often happen at the same time as other performances), but often times, theatre people don't have a lot of liquid capitol, and as we all know, theatre tickets can get expensive.

Now, I'm not going to rail on theatre tickets for being expensive. There are a lot of artists involved in making a production happen, and for a lot of them, they're still not making enough to make a living, so I think the audience paying a fair price for a theatre ticket so that these people can get paid even a little bit to do what they love is a great thing. I hope that one day, I am able to eek out an existence on theatre-related paychecks, and the only way I'll be able to do so is if people come pay to see me perform. So that is not this discussion.

But as a theatre artist myself, I find I don't go see other shows as often as I would like or as often as I should. I will try to get to the shows done by theatres with which I have worked in the past, or if I have a friend in the cast, I'll try to go support them. But I'm also working on three and a half years of pretty consistent work, so my schedule has been somewhat restrictive in regard to the "getting out to see shows" front. Today, I did something to change that.

New York has a theatre week. It is a week in January when a lot of shows offer ticket specials to try to encourage more people to go to the theatre. One of my friends in New York snatched up a bunch of tickets to a bunch of shows featuring loads of stars you've probably heard of. So when I saw on a billboard this morning that Chicago has a theatre week coming up in February, I jumped at the chance to see what sort of deals were on offer. There are a lot of theatres participating, from the big ones to the storefronts, and lots of shows to choose from. Some are sold out already, and not many feature actors I've heard of. But I figured, this is my chance to see some shows I might not otherwise get to see for scheduling or monetary reasons, and this is an opportunity to see some shows at theatres I hear about all of the time but have not supported.

Granted, I am still in rehearsal for my current show during theatre week. But I have three free nights that week, and if I squeeze in one more show after my Sunday rehearsal... I bought tickets to four shows. I am officially going to be exhausted by the time theatre week is over (because it leads directly into tech week for my current show), but I'm hoping it will all be worth it. I can chalk it all up to research. Because if theatre is what I want to do with my life, I should go see some, right?

Right.

January 22 - Differences

Being single is actually a lot more awesome than people think. A lot of it has to do with personal freedoms, yes - you don't have to check with someone else before making plans, or check in when running late, or have a discussion about the merits of the chips and salsa dinner versus actually grocery shopping and cooking something. And you know that all of the hair you clean out of the bathtub drain is your own. Being single is awesome. 

But even moreso than the personal freedoms, I think being single has allowed me to know and observe humanity and the world around me in a way which coupled-up people might miss. This could also be in part because I'm an introvert, so I'm prone to observation anyway, but think about it. When you are out spending time with a friend or partner or spouse or child, most of your focus and energy is on that person, with maybe a little left over to wonder if you zipped up your fly after your last restroom trip. You're focused on being nice, on being responsible, on being entertaining, on being the sort of person your companion doesn't want to run away from screaming. Maybe not consciously, but it's there. And if you find yourself in a shared silence, you perhaps both go to your phones for distraction, disconnecting from one another and the environment around you. 

And then there's me. I'm writing this sitting in a restaurant having dinner by myself. Nothing fancy, lots of other people coming and going. Some of them might notice the single woman typing away on her phone, but most don't pay attention. Small children seem to be fascinated by me while I dine alone. But what none of them know is that I am observing them the whole time. Watching a dad on his own with the kids, trying to eat fast enough that the kids don't get too rowdy in public, and then packing them back into coats and Spider-Man hats before venturing out into the cold. The two bros having dinner together, one with what must be either old boots or remarkably hot feet because he couldn't make it through the meal without unzipping his boots and taking one of them halfway off. People jockeying for the best table or the best spot at the table. Flirting that means more to one party than the other. And all of it revolving around that great equalizer, food. We all have to eat; we all love to eat. We all become insanely protective of "our" food, and instantly aware of others observing our eating habits. Okay, maybe it's just women who worry about that last one, but you get what I mean. Food holds special significance for all of us and it is fascinating to watch strangers interact with one another around food. What could be more human than that?

So as a single woman, I get to sit and observe and study what people are really like. It's useful as an actor and just plain fun. And when/if anyone ever makes a disparaging comment or gives a look of pity to the woman dining alone on a weeknight in the suburbs, I sit comfortable in the knowledge that if I were to say to them, "I'm an actor, killing time before rehearsal," most of them would be sufficiently impressed to bugger off. 

This is my life. I dig it. 

January 21 - Haiku

Dead asleep by eight

Wake to radiator clang

Midnight? No. Ten-ten. 

January 20 - Decisions

I'm having one of those days wherein I don't seem to be able to make any decisions, particularly the relatively unimportant ones. I think it all started with me wanting to snooze my alarm one more time before actually getting out of bed, but then getting up half-way between snoozes, knowing my lunch would take an extra minute to pack this morning. It's all been downhill since then.

So the two big (read: not so big) decisions in front of me right now are whether or not I should buy a new handbag (and if so, which one), and whether or not I should drive straight from work to rehearsal or if I should go home first. Now, I know a lot of people like to make pro/con lists to help with the decision making process, so here we go. Let's make a pro/con list for going straight to rehearsal after work versus going home first:

Going Straight to Rehearsal
Pro

• I won't feel rushed getting there.
• Shorter drive.
• Less fuel.

Con

• Have to stop somewhere to get dinner (meaning, spend money).
• Longer overall day.
• Less time with cat (though the time I would spend at home with my cat before rehearsal would not be quality time).

Going Home First
Pro

• The feeling like I've finished one part of my day before moving on to the next.
• Eat dinner at home (saving money, eating probably healthier)
• I can change out of my work clothes.
• Few minutes with my cat.

Con

• Longer drive.
• Feeling of being rushed.
• Kind of wasteful on the fuel front to go way north to come back south and go out west.

Kind of looks like a wash to me, yes? Let's look at the handbag situation.

Reasons to Buy a New Handbag

• My old one is falling apart. Literally. I've already sewn the strap back on.
• Spice things up/update my look.

Reasons Not to Buy a New Handbag

• Money.
• The one I have, while repaired with the wrong color thread, is still fine and suits my needs perfectly.

Again, a wash. And of the three bags I'm looking at, one is a cross-body, which I like, in a color that is not black but also not visible from space, though it might be a little thin; the other two are shoulder bags which would mean a rethinking of how I carry myself and my things, they have great pockets, but neither is in an optimum color for me - one could be a fashion faux pas, the other is quite possibly visible from outer space and we all know how I am about calling attention to myself. The cross-body one is more expensive, too.

With the handbag situation, I can keep chugging along the way I'm going until the one I have breaks or something I really love appears on the scene. But with the driving out to rehearsal right after work or not...I have to make that decision one way or the other in just over an hour and the pro/con list doesn't seem to be pointing me in either direction. Am I missing something?

When you're faced with a decision (relatively unimportant) and the pro/con list is of no help, how do you go about picking one thing over another?

January 19 - Learning

My grandfather was a nature photographer in his spare time. You've probably not heard of him or seen his work, but most of my family members have at least one of his photos up somewhere. He was very good with flowers and wild mushrooms and things. He used to enter local competitions and did fairly well in them. So well, in fact, that they invited him to judge a competition or two. He found the judging experience to be a great leaning opportunity because he was suddenly privy to all of the little things the judges would look for in selecting photos. He said it improved his own work tremendously. 

Many years ago, I directed a children's musical. It was the first time I got to sit on the other side of the table at an audition and it opened my eyes. I know that they make up ther minds about you in the first 15-20 seconds, if that. I know they want everyone who walks into the room to be amazing. And I know some of the things they look for to determine whether or not they think you are amazing. I'm not saying this makes me an expert by any stretch of the imagination, and I've certainly flubbed plenty of auditions since gaining this knowledge. But it was a fascinating learning experience for me. 

Today, I was afforded the rare opportunity of coaching a fellow actor on her monologue. I've not done any coaching before, but I have been coached and directed on many occasions, so I thought drawing from those experiences might be a good place to start. And then it becomes a matter of helping the actor find the things within the monologue for herself that make her performance one from which I would cast her, or at least bring her in for a callback. It requires a lot of improvisation - working off of what the student brings to the session, and trying different tactics when one isn't getting the desired result - and a lot of investment in the success of her career. If I don't want to help her land jobs, I'm going to miss little moments that could use tweaking. And quite frankly, I loved it. 

I do not know if my coaching will help her land jobs. She is the first person I have coached, so I was doing the best I could and there is no way for me to know the end result yet. But it was fun. I loved watching her work change throughout the session. I loved being able to ask little "what if" questions and seeing a light bulb turn on. I loved being able to take the time to explore a solitary moment, and then seeing how the shift in that moment then fed the rest of the piece. I think she felt good about her work, and from my perspective, she should. She worked hard and went along with whatever exercises or suggestions I threw at her. My one regret is that I didn't put the disclaimer on it that she can throw out whatever suggestions I gave her that don't work for her, and figuring out which things those are is entirely up to her. But I think we'll be working together again. I hope so. Because while it is really fun to learn new things yourself, it is enormously satisfying to help someone else learn something new. 

January 18 - Question

Interesting question posed by my friend today: can a person be a critic if they don't watch the things they are reviewing "in real time?" For example, reviewing movies that are twenty years old or TV shows that wrapped three years ago. Would people read those reviews?

January 17 - Minor Changes

The thing about being single for 97% of your life is that at a certain point, whether or not you want it to happen, every time you walk out the door becomes a moment in which you could meet the love of your life. Every concert for which you buy tickets, every one of your friend's weddings, every casual evening of drinks with friends becomes an event wherein you should bring a date, so you're constantly on the lookout for back-up or last-minute date options - guys you can ask to go with you places, regardless of the level of romantic interest on either part, just so you don't have to look like you're alone. It's sad, but it is true. For me, more often than not, that person is my best guy friend. I love him dearly, but we're not dating - never have, never will. We both agree on that. But there are a couple of other men in my life who I have asked to be "dates" to events that were not actual dates. They know it, I know it, and secretly, we probably both feel a little bit bad about it. 

The thing that I am questioning at the moment, though is whether or not putting on the appearance of being on a date when I am not is actually helpful in finding real dates. Most likely not. There are those who will say that men always want what they can't have, so if it looks like a woman is on a date, she is more attractive than a woman who is not on a date. But will he act on that attraction? My guess is that more often than not, no. Or the ones who will aren't the sort of men I'd like to be dating anyway. 

Many years ago, I learned how to do things by myself - go to movies, eat in restaurants, travel the world, etc. I'm wondering if I need to return to more solitary activities if I hope to find a life partner. Or at the very least, maybe I should spend some quality time with my girl friends so we can scope out the cute boys together. 

We'll see how long that lasts. 

January 16 - Healing

The human body really is miraculous. Every time I'm suffering from some ailment or some injury, I am reminded of just how remarkable it is that my body has these defenses and mechanisms with which to heal itself.

Take this cold I have at the moment. Likely a viral infection procured at some point during my UK trip. We were surrounded by screaming babies everywhere we went, and I was in a giant metal tube full of recycled air speeding through the atmosphere for 6-8 hours at a stretch on four different occasions in a 10-day time period. Okay, two of those flights were an hour long each, but still. Transatlantic flights are long and if there is one sick person on the flight, everyone else gets to go home with a cold. Yay!

But my body has decided that the best way to get rid of this cold is to produce more mucus. Being nice and thick and viscous, the mucus is supposed to trap the viral cells and help neutralize and expel them from my body, primarily via my nose. For this reason, my right nostril has become the World Champion of Mucus Production. If there was such a thing. I have been blowing my nose approximately every twenty minutes all morning long, and even when I've blown it to the point where I can breathe clearly and I'm pretty sure I popped a blood vessel in my eye from blowing my nose so hard, within twenty minutes, I need to start the process all over again:

• Blow nose, using 2-4 tissues as volume requires. 
• Wash hands. 
• Put hand sanitizer on that spot under my nose above my lip to get rid of the feeling of mucus that was just there as I blew my nose. 
• Revel in being able to breathe for about ten breaths. 
• Sniffle for a bit. 
• Repeat.

It's hard to get anything productive done when this has to be kept up at twenty minute intervals.

But I have faith that my little mucus factory will get rid of all of the virus particles residing in my nose within the next day or so. And I'll do my part to help expel them in a timely fashion. I'm sure we're all looking forward to taking a break from this crazy overtime schedule.

Yay biology!

January 15 - Ugh

Feeling like crap. Stop.
Nose won't stop dripping. Stop.
Send soup. Stop.
Send new nose. Stop.

January 14 - Marriage

I overheard the story the other day of a young woman who was with a man for five years and rather than propose to her, he dumped her. They had moved to a new city together, she felt like she had given up a lot for him, and apparently he even had the ring with which to propose. But in the end, he didn't go through with it and ended the relationship instead, leaving her kind of shattered and she moved back home with her parents. What struck me about her story was not the heartbreak (because obviously I'm heartless), but her word choice in describing the situation. She said he had the ring and had "promised" he was going to propose. She said it a couple of times - he promised that he would propose, but in the end, he didn't.

That word, "promise," kind of rang in my ears for a while and made me think about their relationship. Granted, I do not really know this woman - I've only been aware of her existence for a week or so and we've never really chatted - so I could be completely wrong in the assumptions I made based on that word "promise." And it is also entirely possible that she is not as conscious of her conversational word choice as I am, or as a playwright is, so there may not have been any nefarious meaning behind the word at all. But it stuck in my head and made me wonder. If you are in a relationship with someone who "promises" to propose, it almost sounds like he or she doesn't really want to propose in the first place, but that it is something you have talked them into, like taking out the trash or doing the dishes. It sounds like something they will do for your sake, even though they're not really psyched about it.

Like I said, I don't know the actual situation in which this woman was involved. Maybe her ex-boyfriend was psyched about marrying her at one point, and then things changed so he ended it. But if he spent five years not marrying her, saying he would propose at some point, I can't help but think that as painful as the breakup was, he might have been doing her a favor. My heart went out to her, of course - she's young and kind of broken by the event. Maybe it was a good thing, though, that she not spend her life with a man who didn't really want to be tied to her.

I hope that if I ever get married someday, that my partner will want to marry me as much as I want to marry him. I hope we're both giddy with excitement about spending the rest of our lives together. And in the pursuit of that, I find myself thinking long and hard about some of the men who are currently flirting with me. If they can't be bothered to put in the effort, to let me know they even enjoy my company, they're not worth my time. I deserve someone who wants to be with me, just as this woman deserves someone who really wants to be with her. Is that really so much to ask?

January 13 - Dancing

The thing about partner dancing is that it is a team effort - both partners have to communicate with and trust one another in order to make it work. The lead has to let the follow know where to go on what beat, and the follow has to be ready to go there (or ready to communicate clearly that she wants to do something else for a moment). This communication is made possible by each partner maintaining his or her own frame and trying to not break the other's. There is a certain amount of body awareness that should factor in, too, so if my lead is leading me with a gentle wrist alteration on my shoulder blade, I can be aware of the fact that this alteration is something different and respond accordingly. If I'm not in tune with my shoulder blade, I'll miss the lead entirely and that's my bad. 

That being said, one qualm I have with beginning lessons is they give out tricks to try to make things easier for the students - don't be afraid to lead hard, follows follow the footwork instead of the actual lead, etc. - that can actually impede one's progress toward becoming a good dancer. As someone who danced for years (and was quite good at it), I know these commandments come from a good place, but they can also be misleading. A follow does not need two beats of warning before a move happens. If the lead comes early, the follow will follow it early. And while it is possible to lead someone too hard (I know follows who have been injured because their leads didn't trust that they could follow something subtle), I have never heard a follow complain that the lead was too clear. To teach the follow to ignore the direction in which her body is being pulled in favor of doing the steps correctly is to ultimately teach her to be okay with breaking her frame, and to not actually follow leads. She is learning choreography, which is fine if the dance is choreographed, but does nothing to save her if her lead decides to improvise. 

I know it is a fine line to walk when teaching dance to people who have not danced before. The instructor wants the students to develop good habits and to feel like they are making progress, and of course, one has to teach to the middle (ie not the best student in the room nor the worst, but the average student). So teachers come up with these tricks to help move the class along at a reasonable rate with the students feeling like they're learning something. As someone who spent so much time learning how to honestly follow a lead, I find myself wishing that beginning partner dance classes were more about communication and body awareness than actual steps. Because if you can truly speak and truly listen in the conversation of the dance, it doesn't really matter where your feet are going. The follow's feet will end up where the lead wants them to be. 

January 12 - Pretty

In the last couple of years, I have started to come to terms with the fact that I am pretty. I wasn't always, so it was a bit of an adjustment to categorize myself as one of the pretty ones. I wouldn't say I feel pretty all of the time - it comes and goes depending on the day - but it is something that is there in the back of my mind. I'm not bad to look at. 

The last couple of shows I've done, making me "pretty" was not a major concern. Personally, I'm fine with that. I know some actors need to be pretty all the time, which is why you get the "ugly pretty" characters from time to time. That is not a concern for me. I'm fine wth being ugly, or at the very least, "not pretty." If the director and costume designer want me in something totally unflattering, that's their call. 

Today, we did the publicity photos for the show I'm currently working on, and I was freaking gorgeous. I've always looked good with 1940's hair and make up, and they put me in my royal blue and white Geisha dress and I looked freakin' gorgeous. To the point where I think I made some of the other traditionally pretty girls in the room uncomfortable. Like, they didn't know what to do with me, knowing now that I have the potential to be an absolute knock-out. Because let's face it, I don't dress like a knock out in my everyday life. It's an occasional kind of thing. And for the photos today, I was a knock out. Which is why I think they put me in so many of them. 

It's kind of fun knowing I have that potential in me. It's a lot of work to look that way, so it likely won't become a regular thing. But it's nice to know I still can when I want to. 

January 11 - Grumble, Grumble

I went through the very humiliating task of trying on all of my old swing dresses earlier this week to see which ones still fit. Not many do. Part of it is that my body shape has changed - my rib cage has expanded a bit - and part of it is that I am heavier than I used to be. And as much as I don't like to think about my weight and whatnot, it kind of forced me too. Not that it is necessary for me to fit into all of my old dresses, but I would like it if I could. 

So I'm back on the food and exercise tracking website. I'm trying to not give myself too hard a time of it at the start, because it makes me grumpy to have to measure out single servings of everything and fret about whether or not I have enough calories left in the day to have a beer with my friends tonight. But I'm trying to keep track of things. Cut back on bingeing. Maybe get some muscle tone. 

On the up side, I made some tasty chana masala today, and it is only 218 calories per serving. So there's that. 

Wish me luck. 

January 10 - Anger

Today is one of those days when I have very little faith in basic human goodness. I have been a subscriber to the idea of basic human goodness for quite some time - I take comfort in believing that most people are basically good and we all just want to be safe and loved. I'm not exactly sure where this belief came from. Maybe observation. Because think about it: in the course of your average day, you probably have a lot more relatively pleasant interactions with others than relatively unpleasant ones. 

But then there are days like today when the majority of the interactions I had were antagonistic. Some out of a combined grumptopotomusness, some out of playfulness, some out of lack of awareness. I don't think any were intentionally malicious. But they all add up to a day of antagonistic interactions that leave me angry and doubting the idea of basic human goodness. 

Fortunately, basic cat goodness is a very real and true thing. He justs wants to be warm and near me and to maybe get some scritches on the top of his head or some snuggles on the couch. And his sweet, fuzzy face lights up when presented with a lap on which to sleep. It's hard to stay grumpy and angry with the world when an adorable friend is curled up at your side. 

To those who I may have offended today with my anger, grumpiness, and lack of faith in humanity, I apologize. I'll be a better person tomorrow. 

January 9 - Bodily Functions

Ew, gross.

No, not really.

But maybe.

Kind of.

Since I became vegan, I am much more aware of what my body is doing on the inside. I've always been pretty good with spacial awareness and whatnot, but paying attention to what's happening inside is interesting. Things like what happens when you drink too much water, or how much my digestive system hated me when I was first making the transition to veganism.

Today, all of the organs in my lower abdominal cavity seem to be staging a coup, at the same time I'm experiencing the first honest to goodness cold I've had in years. It's not pleasant. I'll spare you further details.

I do find myself wondering what is causing this coup, though. Because the entire time I was in the UK, I had no problems whatsoever. As soon as I come home and return to my normal eating habits, my digestive system hates me. Is it true that American food is so much more processed that it's hard to digest? I haven't been eating badly since I got home, so what's the deal?

This also puts the idea in my head that maybe it really is time for me to move overseas. My skin was happier there. My tummy was happier there. My sinuses were happier there. My hair wasn't fantastic, but I can play with that and find something that works well. Will they let me immigrate if I have a doctor's note saying it is better for my general well-being to live in London? Can I get a visa with a note like that?

Obviously, this is all affecting my brain function as well.

January 8 - Perception

One of the things that always gets me when I travel, or when I go somewhere where I am surrounded by thousands of strangers (like Wrigley Field) is just how small and insignificant my life is to the vast majority of the other people on this planet. Not to say that my life is unimportant in general, just that everyone has their own things going on - their own circles of friends, their own stresses, their own joys - and as they see my face walk by in a crowd, it doesn't even really register that I have this entire life of my own of which they are completely unaware. I'm just a face. Just as they are to me.

And then there are the few with whom your life intersects for just a short while. Long enough that you may remember the encounter years later, but still brief enough that you don't get to know them as a well-rounded person. I've known a few of those. When I worked in the bagel shop in high school, there was a man who came in every weekend for one of the herb-cheese twists and a cup of coffee. He almost always had exact change and a smile for me, but I never knew his name. There was another man when I worked in the video store who took full advantage of the $0.99 rentals on Monday-Wednesdays and would rent two movies a day for each of those days, every week. He always had his rental card and $2.11 ready as he approached the register. I knew his name at the time from scanning his card, but have no idea what it was now. I probably couldn't pick him out of a crowd these days, but I was always happy to see him come in back then.

It's funny to me, too, that I am that person to others. In high school, the cute guy at the gas station knew me as Clover Girl, because I wore a four-leaf clover necklace all of the time. I'm sure the people at the sandwich shop around the corner from where I work now know me as Falafel Girl because I only ever get the falafel sandwich - it's their only real vegan option. They are always polite and greet me with a smile, and half of the time, they've started making my sandwich before I walk through the door. But that is all we know of each other - I eat falafel, they make sandwiches.

I wonder, sometimes, how I will be remembered by some of these people, if I am remembered at all. My tattoo artist in Dublin said I looked familiar and Facebook stalked me a bit before working on me, and asked a couple of times what my most famous movie was. I told him I do more theatre than film, to look out for Hamlet: the Series, and that he should remember my face because in ten years, it is going to be everywhere. He took a picture with us when we were done and I wonder how long it will be before he forgets what marks he left on us, or why he even took the picture in the first place. I wonder how much the flight attendant on my fourth screwed-up flight in ten days complained to her life partner about the bitchy woman who was pissed they couldn't find her special meal because someone had spelled the name wrong. I wonder if the woman walking her dog on a bright Dundalk morning will remember the two Americans who couldn't find their hotel and if she will think of us fondly. Will my repeated thanks to the cabbie be remembered as polite or insincere? Will the last man I kissed remember my name ten years from now?

I know all of these are rather insignificant moments in the grand scheme of things, and in all truth, the other parties involved have probably already forgotten their interactions with me. But I wonder, because I remember all sorts of things. Not everything, and not everyone, but loads of things and loads of people who have floated in and out of my life in a matter of moments. Am I also so thought of?

I kind of hope so. And I hope most of those memories are positive.

January 7 - Language

So, for the next show I'm in, I will have to employ a British accent - royal pronunciation, as they call it. "Proper British" as we all think of it. Think of the family in Downton Abbey - the really posh, formal sounds - that's what we're going for. At least for my character. I'm rather looking forward to it, as I often employ accents when I'm talking to my cat just for fun. I think some of my accents have gotten pretty decent, though my cat would never tell me if they are terrible. It will be sort of fun to take it out in public and see if I can fool people into thinking I speak that way normally.

I've thought about accents quite a bit in the past year or so, to the point where I've considered entering some sort of training program so that I can get better at them and then teach other people to do them properly. I've already expressed an interest in studying OP, and was really proud of myself when I could start to differentiate northern British accents from southern. It's fascinating to me how the spelling of one word can produce so many different sounds, depending on where you grew up.

One thing that the artistic director/dialect coach of this show I'm in pointed out, though, is a trap that many people fall into when doing an accent that has been on my mind a lot. We tend to think that if one vowel sound changes in one word, that it changes in all words, regardless of whether it is part of a diphthong or starts or ends a word or whatever. People putting on a fake Irish accent, for example, will turn all "I"s into "Oi"s, when that really isn't the case. In Royal Pronunciation, lots of words with a's in them sound just the way they do in a Midwestern accent - have, cat, man - though we're tempted to change all of them to sound "British." I noticed this one a while ago, particularly in an episode of Doctor Who when the Master talks about gas masks. We, as Americans, would be tempted to change both of those a's to very open sounds - gahs mahsks - when John Simm (a native British speaker) only pronounces the one that way. He says, "gas mahsks...Because of the gas." So it's not a blanket rule about words with a's in them; it all depends on how the "a" is used, where it appears, and the rest of the context of the sentence.

I think because I've noticed these things on my own (after watching a ridiculous amount of British television) that I would be good at learning and teaching various accents. I just need more exposure to them, and a little more confidence to try them out in public. I feel an around-the-world research trip coming on. Anyone care to join me?

January 6 - Habits

This blogging every day thing is weird. I don't exactly feel like I can stop. I intended to do it for just one year, but they say habits are formed after 21-28 days (depending on which article you read). Now I feel a sort of pressure to keep blogging every day, even though the original time period is up. 

It is sort of like my veganism. I originally meant to try it for a year, but it worked out so well and I enjoyed the lifestyle so much and just got in the habit of being vegan and it has now been eleven and a half years. I will admit, there are some temptations to not be vegan anymore, or at least there were when I was in the UK. And I've asked myself if I can maybe just be a vegan who drinks Guinness on a regular basis. But it is such a habit now to avoid these things that even those thoughts make me feel guilty. 

I know that these habits are my choice. I know that as a person, I can reexamine my life choices as I see fit and make new decisions if necessary. But sometimes habits are a good and helpful thing. And sometimes I just like the routine of it. 

So when will I stop blogging every day? When I can figure out a way to do so without feeling guilty about it. Maybe. 

January 5 - Cold

It wasn't necessarily warm in the UK while I was there, but it was at least 50 degrees Fahrenheit warmer there than it is supposed to be here tomorrow. Schools are closing, businesses are closing, the news keeps saying people shouldn't go outside if they can avoid it. I don't think my company is closing tomorrow, but I think a couple of us are going to be taking personal days. Sometimes, you have to think of human safety and well-being above corporate needs. I apologize to anyone offended by that last sentence. 

Stay warm, everybody!

January 4 - Home

We made it home safely today. I have to say, it was hard to come home. I really feel like I need to live elsewhere for a while. 

But.

I would have to be able to take my cat with me. He has been in almost constant physical contact with me since I walked in the door. You can say what you want about cats being independent or impersonal, but my cat has imprinted on me and he likes having me around. His cat sitters did a fine job, but I can tell that he missed me and is glad I'm home. And I am certainly happy to see his face and snuggle with him again. I missed him. 

So, how about I make a documentary about traveling the world with a cat?

January 3 - Travel

The biggest problem I have with traveling is I never get to be anywhere long enough. And it doesn't really matter what I do while I'm there, I always leave with the feeling that I didn't do enough. I was thinking about that today - what would constitute enough?

I think, since in my travels, I like to try to find out what a place is really like, what would constitute "enough" would include making friends, grocery shopping, going on dates, getting my heart broken, ordering take-out that I eat by myself at home, fighting with landlords, finding my way to work on really icky days, complaining about the weather, finding a pub where they get to know my name, learning the public transit system well enough that I don't have to triple check a map every time I go somewhere. In short, in order to feel like I have been somewhere long enough and done enough there, I need to live there for a while. Though if you were to ask on my way out if I have done enough in Chicago, I would probably still say no and I've been there my whole life.

We went to the Guinness Storehouse today, which was kind of amazing. There is a rooftop bar with a 360 degree view of the city where you can sit and have a pint and look around. Dublin really is gorgeous, and it hit me that even if I lived here for years, I would probably not get to see all of it or know all of it. But I might get a basic feel for the energy of the city, moreso than I have in the past 24 hours. And I'd get a better feel for whether or not I spent too much on the gifts I bought for people (and myself).

All in all, I've had a really lovely trip. I miss my cat and my family so I'll be glad to go home, but I'm not looking forward to going back to reality tomorrow. Nor am I looking forward to the queue at the airport. Oh well. I'll just have to find a reason to come back here soon.

January 2 - Dublin

We've been in Dublin for about four hours and already done things I will remember for the rest of my life. More on that later.

Dublin so far is awesome. Granted, we're in a sort of touristy/shoppy area, so there's lots going on, but we've seen buskers and had Thai food and yeah. I'm really happy here. Our hotel is very much cooler than we are - we're not posh enough to be here - but the people are really friendly.

And yeah, I know this isn't the most exciting blog post, but lemme tell ya - if you get into the habit of writing something down every day for a year, it's hard to break that habit. I'm sure I'll have more to say about Dublin later, and stories about London to share that I've not shared yet. My big take-away from this whole experience is that I need to live in another country for a little while at some point in my life. Preferably sooner as opposed to later. And that I'm really good at finding my way around places. But yeah, I need to live elsewhere for a while. Let's see if we can make that happen.

January 1 - Happy New Year

Happy 2014!

The year started off with a bang for me, making some new British friends who I will likely never see again, and then waiting in a queue for about an hour in the rain to find out there was still another hour to go before the box office even opened. I would love to see Tom Hiddleston in Coriolanus, but I don't want to spend my entire last full day in London standing in the rain. Does that make me a bad person? Does that mean I'm the sort who gives up too easily? Would I be even angrier at the theatre than I am disappointed in myself if I had waited the additional hour and not been able to get tickets anyway? Probably. 

This is why I shouldn't blog when I'm tired. 

It has been a lovely trip, I've seen and done some great things. And I desperately need breakfast. 

Happy new year, everyone!