Hey, kids.

Please promise me that whatever your plans are for the evening, that you will be safe. A safe new year is a happy new year. Or something like that.

I'll reminisce about the past year more later, but for now I'm just going to say that I very much enjoy being in New York, I like the people here, and I am, by choice, 800 miles away from at least some of the people I would most like to spend New Year's Eve with. Don't get me wrong -- I'm with a whole bunch of people I love hanging out with and I'm glad I'm here for New Year's Eve. But I can think of at least one person, 800 miles away who I really wish was here. Oh well.

Have a safe and happy new year!

No matter where you are, no matter what you are doing, there is always a lot more to the world around you than what you see immediately in front of your face.

And the little counter on my blog thingy will still say I have 1,157 entries.

So I'm reading this book about female anatomy and it is completely...entertaining. It's not overly clinical or overly glibb. It's really well written and entertaining. But it is, of course, making me think about my own female body. I wrote a really cheesy song yesterday that includes some bits about my body. I'm growing to love it more and more, but I still have a long way to go. I think the first step in it might be retiring my green corduroy pants. Not because I don't love them anymore -- I do, very much. But because they have so many holes in them it is rather indecent to wear them in public anymore. And as much as I would like to be able to replace them, I'd kind of like to replace them with pants that fit and make me look like a girl. Like the ones I'm wearing today. They are still big on me, thanks to the recent weight loss, but more flattering. More shapely. More...girlish.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm working really hard on not resenting being a girl anymore. I don't think that's a good way to go through life. And I'm actually starting to see a little progress in that arena, too. Possibly nothing permanent, but it's a start.

And now I'm off to have lunch at Moby's restaurant with my lawyer friend. Yay!

I love New York. Once again, when I got here, I got this feeling like I was home. It just feels good to be here.

I went to an open mic tonight with my lovely hostess. There were some mic problems because I forgot to bring my pick up, so I did a kind of crappy version of "Allowed." But then, since we each got to do two songs, I played my little acapella pseudo-soul tune and it went over like gangbusters. People really liked it. Including this cute bald guy whose music I really enjoyed. As I was leaving, I went to tell him that I loved his songs, but he beat me to the punch, saying he really enjoyed my second song. I'm glad it was dark or I would have been blushing.

So yeah, I love New York.

But I keep forgetting to tell you about my "I'm a dumbass" moment that I had earlier this week. I've lived in my apartment for four and a half years. For that whole time, the window above my back door has been open. I have tried repeatedly to close it, usually when the infamous Chicago winter sets in. It has never closed for me. I always thought it was because they painted it open -- it's one of those windows that has a long bar on the one side that you push up to close the window, or pull down to open it. I thought it had been painted over so many times in the open position that it was just permanently painted open. Until this past week. I tried once again to push up on the bar to no avail. Until I pinched together these two little metal tabbies, at which point, the window shut as easily as a knife goes through Jell-o. So yeah, I'm a dumbass, but maybe my apartment will stay a little warmer this winter.

Merry Christmas.

By which, I do not mean to offend anyone who does not celebrate Christmas. I mean simply to share a piece of my life with all of you. Whatever holiday you choose to celebrate, I hope it is a happy one for you. I celebrate Christmas, so I am going to wish all of you a merry Christmas.

It was a long day and a half for me. A lot happened, but I don't really want to get into all of it right now. I have to finish my laundry and clean up my house and get ready to go to New York tomorrow, but The Sound of Music is on television right now, so the temptation to just sit and watch it is almost overwhelming. I have about a quarter of a cheesecake to eat, too, so it doesn't sit and rot in my fridge while I'm gone. But probably the most exciting bit is that one of my debts is paid off. I can't tell you the weight lifted from my shoulders. It hasn't fully sunken in yet, and probably won't until I get my next paycheck and have that much more of it to do with as I please, but it still feels pretty darn good.

So I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, whether you celebrate it or not. I gotta go put stuff in the dryer. Merry Christmas.

Two main points to make today, though neither one is of any specific interest.

1) I make DAMN good cookies. Yes, I follow other people's recipes, but they turn out so well. I like baking.

2) I had kind of forgotten how much I love and admire and respect Tim Curry until I saw a picture of him in the Reader last night. He is not, in any way, an attractive looking man. Sorry, hon, but you're not. But this picture was smoking. So sexy. And to know what kind of talent lies beneath...I'm kind of bummed that I have rehearsal the same night that I am going to see him in Spamalot because it means I won't be able to camp outside the theater afterwards and try to meet him. I'd just like to shake his hand and tell him I think he was wonderful in Clue and Kinsey. No, I would not mention Rocky Horror to him because I know he is sick of that. But I'd like to shake his hand and tell him that he is amazing nonetheless. Go pick up a copy of the December 17th Reader (if you can still find one) and take a look at the picture. It's electric.

That's it. I told you it wasn't anything exciting. I'm gearing up for Christmas and my trip to New York. I burned myself four CDs full of music that I am enjoying right now so I can hate all of it by the time I get back. I baked a lot last night and have one more batch of cookies to go. I'm getting nervous about shaving my head and almost think I should just do it now and get it over with. Why is it that people keep saying, "I hope it grows back the same way?" Why wouldn't it? I'm not getting gene therapy; I'm getting a haircut. Anyway. And is there a certain length that hair has to be in order to donate it to the place that makes wigs for cancer patients? Because I do have really beautiful hair...

I'm just rambling now. Happy Thursday, everyone. Be good to each other.

So I'm in full-on panic mode today, about Christmas and about my trip to New York.

What if I didn't get enough presents for people?
What if someone got me a present and I didn't get them one?
What if I don't bring enough warm clothing with me and I spend a week freezing my ass off?
What if I forget to bring something?

I know that these are all, in their own way, minor problems. The gifts that I have for my family are things that I believe they will enjoy and things that I want them to have. If someone got me something and I didn't get them anything...it's not really that big of a deal. It's happened before. And I've given gifts to people with nothing to give me, so it's really not a "thing." Most of the people I know are broke anyway, so we go out and spend time together instead and call it a day. And if I find myself freezing my ass off the whole time I'm in New York...well, I'm pretty sure they have stores there where I could buy another sweater, if need be. And if I forget to bring something...once again, they have stores in New York. I'll get by. I guess I'm most concerned about forgetting to bring enough music or food with me for the drive. But I'll be okay, even if I do forget those things. One thing I have learned from my life is that I will always be okay. I will always get by.

Doesn't mean I won't panic from time to time. I have a lot of baking to do between now and Friday...

In less than a week, I'll be in New York.

One week from tomorrow, I have a lunch date with a friend of mine at Teany.

In just over two weeks, a whole new year will begin.

I'm enjoying watching the sun come up in the morning, although I'm not enjoying waking up in the dark.

I'm enjoying watching the sun set as I drive home.

I've noticed that I have become a very bitter person with a tendency to snap at people and I don't like that. As much as I don't like New Year's resolutions, I think my resolution this year will to be a nicer person. A calmer person. The sort who just kind of lets things bounce off. The sort who doesn't lose her temper because nothing causes her temper to rise. The sort who deals with stress much better.

I'm glad that I have a couple weeks off of Floss! because it means I can paint my nails.

I'm excited to get my new shoes. I hope they get here before I leave for New York.

Fucknut is still alive and doing well. And I should be getting my tattoo designs soon.

My fingers hurt and are all caloused and ugly from playing the guitar so much, but I love to play.

It's only hair. It grows back.

Within the year 2005, I will eliminate one of my debts.

Things are looking up for me. I guess sometimes it takes a little breakdown to be able to see that. Let all of the negative out so there is room for more positive. And I am surrounded by positive.

I can't wait to go to New York next week.

Okay, see that little link over on the side that says "wonderful online vegan store?" Yeah. Go click on that. Buy stuff from them. Even if you're not vegan, buy stuff from them. They are truly a wonderful business. I love the people who work there.

I told you I ordered some shoes from them a while back that were on backorder. Well, it seems that they have finally come in. But since the time I ordered the shoes and now, the credit card I had put them on expired. So I got a very friendly little e-mail asking me to please call them, and it was signed by an actual person. So I called and got to speak to an actual person who was probably the most pleasant person I've ever gotten to deal with in any customer service department anywhere. She was courteous and sweet and knew what she was doing and within minutes, my card was updated, the order processed, and theoretically, my shoes will be sent to me today. Meaning it is entirely possible I will have them in time for my New York trip.

I had a dream last night about my shoes. I was so happy walking around in them.

So hooray for the wonderful online vegan store. I will continue to send them business for years to come, just because I think they know how to actually run a business. I think we should all support places like that.

And I know it's distasteful to boast, but I now have four songs in the top 25 acoustic numbers on 15 Megs of Fame. And "Allowed" moved up 10 places to #55 in the top 100 songs on the whole site.

That site is simultaneously going to be amazing for and completely detrimental to my ego.

I feel like I should talk about the Christmas season and how much it irritates me, but instead, I think I'll talk about the super uber freezing cold weather we're having and how much that irritates me. There is very little that I like less than I like being cold. Being cold sucks. Walking outside and losing your breath because the arctic air steals it from you is not pleasant. I'm ready for summer.

I think that once one comes to terms with the fact that that's how things are, one is much happier than one was when one wanted to fight that fact. They key is the actual "coming to terms" part. It's a lot harder than it sounds.

I used to be really resentful of the fact that I am smart because it made me different from everyone else. In a way, I think that's why I went to college where I did and why I studied what I did. IQ wasn't really a factor hanging out with the theater people. We were all on the same page. We were all artists and everyone's opinion was equally valid. Didn't matter that I graduated from high school with honors and some of them just barely eeked through. I got to be "normal" for a little while.

That has kind of carried over into my current life. I don't walk around with a degree pinned to my shoulder, letting everyone know how many A's I've gotten in my life. I don't spout wisdom, hoping people will take note and look up to me as a great intellect. Okay, well, this blog is excluded from that statement. I'd like to think I'm rather unassuming. It's always fun to tell someone who only knows me in a creative capacity that I am a paralegal during the day. I know they were expecting me to say waitress or something. They never know how to take that.

But part of me thinks it is time to stop being resentful of the fact that I am smart. My brain gets me into and out of a lot of really interesting situations. If I'm handed something unfamiliar, I can figure it out fairly quickly and move it along to the next person who needs to touch it. That's a skill. I'm a smart cookie and I should embrace that. Also because I'm getting tired of feeling dumb when I'm surrounded by people talking about malpractice or insurance or whatnot. The only reason I don't know about those things is because nobody ever taught me. I'm sure if I had a crash course in it, I'd be just as good at it as anyone else. Because I am a smart cookie. That's a good thing.

Oh.

My.

God.

I love this new play I'm in!

First of all, I want to apologize for the distasteful ranting nature of this post. There might be a couple of you out there reading this who really wanted to be in the show, too, but were not cast and for that, I apologize. But I am so so so so so so so so so glad I freed up my schedule so that I could do this show. SO glad. And I'm so perfectly cast, too. I can't wait to jump into this character. To live her. Breathe her. Justify her every thought, her every movement. She's great. The rest of the cast is wonderful, too. We had a really great energy at the read through last night, so I'm really looking forward to working with all of those people. And I'm really looking forward to working with this director. I think this one might actually push me.

This is also going to sound distasteful, but I'm going to talk about it for a minute anyway. I don't know how many of you have ever rehearsed a play before, but usually when you get there, the first few rehearsals deal with blocking (where you enter from, when you move and to where, etc.) and then you start just running scenes. The director might stop you in the middle and ask you to do something else, or he/she may save all comments until the end and give them all to everyone in one fell swoop. One swell poop. The majority of the directors I have worked with don't have notes for me at the end of the night. Nothing positive, nothing negative. Most directors will tell you that they don't dole out praise -- if they don't say anything, it means you're doing a good job. And while I probably should take some comfort in the fact that not getting notes means that the director likes what I'm doing, it also means the director doesn't have any new suggestions for me. Doesn't want me to try anything else. Has no new ideas. Or, worst of all, isn't paying attention to what I'm doing. Granted, I'm often a character actor, meaning "not the focal point." But you would think that in at least one rehearsal, the director would watch the characters and make comments or suggestions. This very seldom happens for me. But I'm hoping (perhaps against hope, but maybe not) that this particular director will have comments and suggestions and criticisms and notes for me. It already sounds like he's going to meet perhaps one on one with each actor to do character stuff. Yay! A challenge! An opportunity to grow and play! An opportunity to play something other than a characture of an existing person! Yay!

So I'm really excited for this show. And all of you should come see it. For real. It's funny and entertaining and will only get better as we actually rehearse it. Opens in February, so keep an eye out.

And I worked for it. And I got it. And I couldn't be happier. YAYAYAYAYAY!!!

I know that the election is over and there is nothing we can do about the outcome, but I would still encourage all of you to see the documentary "Bush's Brain." It's kind of frightening.

Holy crap. I now have three songs in the top 20 acoustic songs on 15 Megs of Fame (the "rate me!" link), and one in the top 100 songs on the site. The top 100 includes all genres. "Allowed" is number 65. Not too shabby. It's also #9 in the top 25 acoustic songs. "Mona Lisa" and "The Simple Answer" are numbers 16 and 19, I think. Holy crap.

You know what I was saying the other day about working for everything I have achieved? I was talking to my mom about that the other day and we're kind of curious to see just how far you can take something like that. I'm gonna go for it. I'm going to see how far I can push this music thing. It may take a while, but if I keep at it, who knows what can happen, right? Holy crap. I have three songs in the top 20. I kind of feel like I need to say thank you to my friend who told me to record "Allowed" in the first place, for waking me up to the fact that people like to listen to my music. Thank you. If it wasn't for that conversation, I'd probably just still be playing for my cat in my living room and nothing else. So thank you.

You know, about ninety five percent of the things I have gotten in my life, or the things that have happened to me, I have worked my ass off to achieve. Everything from graduating with the kind of grades I had to every role I have gotten to scoring gigs at random places. I work really hard to make good things happen in my life. And it is exhausting. Honestly. In "Mona Lisa," I ask, "Am I wasting time being persistent?" I think it's a valid question. To work so hard for little baby steps...it's hard. Really hard. But every once in a while, for something that I really want, I stick a hand out and reach for it and it gets a little closer. And I'm reminded that all of it is worth something. If I didn't work so hard, if I didn't try, I'd never achieve any of the things that are so important to me. I'm not sure where I get the strength or confidence to try, but I'm glad I have it. Because it's not worth having if it's not worth fighting for.

All I really want for Christmas is to go to New York and have fun with my friends. I'm guessing I may have to go to Minnesota to say goodbye to my Grandmother. She's not doing well. She hasn't been doing well for years, but even she says she doesn't think she'll make it to Christmas. She is 92 or 93 years old and her body is just giving out. It's had a good run and she says she's tired, so I guess when she's ready to go, it's okay that she goes. Doesn't mean it won't make me sad.

I wish I knew her better. Part of it is because she lived so far away, so I only got to see her about once a year as a child. And part of it is because that side of the family just doesn't talk about those things, you know? Conversation is kept at a surface level. I remember a couple of years ago, I told my Grandma that I was getting into swing dancing and she said she used to do that when she was younger, too. How I would have loved to hear those stories! But in such a group setting, the conversation was quickly turned to someone else's current career move or something like that. I just got these little glimmers of what my Grandma must have been like as a young woman and of who she really was. It's sad that most of that didn't get out until much later in her life. Speak up, people! Let the world know who you are! Don't wait until you're so old that all you can do is sit in a chair and watch birds all day.

I know you don't read this, Grandma, but I want you to know that I love you very much. The little pieces of you that I got to see over the years are very precious to me. You are a wonderful, beautiful, very loving woman and you will be horribly missed. Say hi to Grandpa for me and tell him I love him, too.

I love you, Grandma.

Over on 15 Megs of Fame (the "rate me!" link over on the left there), "Mona Lisa" is in the top 25 acoustic songs! Granted, it's #25, but it's in the top 25 acoustic songs on the site! Sweet!

Go over there and rate my songs more. Let's see if we can't get another one in there, or bump "Mona Lisa" up on the charts. Says Kitty, the Chart Whore.