Sweet Jebus, I missed my theater company!

Not the one in the 'burbs. I'm not a company member out there. But working out there really made me miss what a wonderful thing my theater company in the city is. I love the people. I love the scripts. I love the rehearsals. I went to one rehearsal last night for the next kid's show to go up there (I'm playing the puppet of a mummified cat). These people have been rehearsing for a week or two, so they all know each other and are familiar with the script and whatnot. I've only read the script on my own and for the most part, I didn't know who was playing what and so on and so forth and there were some unfamiliar faces. But I walked in and people chatted with me. And we sang. And we danced. And I got hugs and kisses from the people I do know there. I was allowed to ask questions and make jokes and express opinions. I was even encouraged to jump in on songs I didn't think I was going to have to sing. And they are really fun songs! The authors took "Holla Back Girl" by Gwen Stefani and turned it into "Heiroglyph Girl." No offense to Ms. Stefani, but I never liked "Holla Back Girl." Just not my thing. I LOVE "Heiroglyph Girl." How can you not geek out about a song that lets you get all tough and bitchy about heiroglyphs and papyrus? Come on! That's funny!

I feel good today. See? That is what theater is supposed to do for you. You're supposed to go to rehearsal and have fun and leave counting down the hours until you get to go back and do it again. Theater should not be a chore. Theater is a labor of love, whether or not you're getting paid for it.

So yeah, I missed my theater company. I love my theater company. Yes, we are a rinky-dink not-for-profit theater, but we put on some darn good shows. And we're a darn good group of people. I'm so proud to be a member there and I thank all of the other members of the group for inviting me join. One of the best decisions I have ever made.

Hello, person on a boat in the Atlantic Ocean!

At least I'm guessing that there is a person on a boat in the Atlantic Ocean reading this, because there is a little tic mark on that cute mappy thing that appeared today in the middle of the Atlantic, somewhere off the coast of Ghana or Gibon, depending on which direction you're coming from. Or going to. How odd. Now, not only have people on six continents checked in here, but someone in the ocean did, too.

Sweet.

Hi, and welcome!

So today we've got a terror alert color of orange. And by terror alert color, I mean my own personal terror of leaving my current job and thrusting myself completely unprepared into the world to survive however I can manage.

I know, I know, I'm being overly dramatic. But today is a scared day. Some days I feel great, and some days I'm scared out of my mind. Some days, I'm both.

I do have money saved up, so I'll be fine for a couple of months. And I have projects on the horizon to take me through April at least. And I have plans and contingency plans. And what's more is I have a lot of skills. I have every confidence that I will make the money I need to make in order to survive. To more than survive. It's just scary because it's an unknown. It's a break from the pattern I've developed over the past five and a half years. I mean, everything. I'm having to keep detailed records of all of my incomes and expenditures related to all things business related -- how many miles have I traveled in association with this gig in the 'burbs? How much money am I bringing in in tip jars at gigs? How many CDs do I sell? That kind of thing, so that when it comes time to pay my taxes next year, I can do so correctly. Man, is that going to be a pain in the butt.

What makes me feel good about the whole thing, though, is that I am, for the first time, doing what I want to do. I know a lot of people are envious of my decision to scrap the secure life in favor of following my dreams. It does sound really glamorous, doesn't it? I'm finding more and more people who wish they had taken that kind of chance at one point or another, but now find themselves tied to their families and their jobs and a certain lifestyle that they want to maintain and so on and so forth, so they continue to do what they have to do, instead of what they want to do. I'm not slighting that in any respect -- I've been doing what I have to do instead of what I want to do for a very long time. It takes a lot to be able to do the responsible thing. And yes, taking care of one's family comes first. I guess I'm just lucky that I don't have those responsibilities yet. That sounds funny, doesn't it? Especially considering my current openness to the possibility of a relationship. "I'm lucky I don't have anybody." That's not what I mean. I'm lucky that I can scrap the secure life and go out on a limb, even for a little while. Not everyone gets that opportunity, so I'm going to enjoy it as much as I possibly can.

Doesn't mean I'm not still scared. Thirteen more days in this office. Eep. That's not a lot of time.

I told my friend in Texas, though, that I'm looking forward to not having a job so I can have a career. Here's hoping it all pans out.

And I do want to say thank you to all of you guys for your support. Those of you emailing to suggest I sell t-shirts and stuff, saying you'd buy a Kitty mug to help out. I love you for that, thank you. And once my website is up and running, there will be a merchandise page so you can buy all kinds of fun Kitty items in the name of helping me pay my rent.

Interesting side effect of all of this: I'm losing weight. I will admit that I have started weighing myself again. I know, I know, not necessarily good for the spirit. But so far, it hasn't been too bad. I don't weigh myself every day -- maybe once a week. It's the day to day fluxuations that you can start to obsess over and that will take over your life. But I've been coming down about a pound a week, without really trying (I honestly think it's the crazy schedule I've been keeping). Slow, controlled weight loss like that, I think, is a good thing. It makes it easier to keep it off. And once I'm not working anymore, I can start working out at home on a regular basis. Get myself in really great shape. So how about that? Pushing thirty, following my dreams, in the greatest shape of my life. Sounds good to me.

(Doesn't mean I'm not still scared today.)

So I'm really not girlie. When I was little, I was, but I haven't been girlie since, maybe second grade? I don't wear a lot of make up. I prefer a hairstyle that doesn't require a lot of effort. I wear trousers intead of skirts. But there is one bit of girlieness that has carried over from my childhood. I like having my nails painted. I'm not talking about getting regular manicures; I'm talking about painting my own nails. I just like having them painted. I now have three different colors of vegan nail polish, and I did my nails in this great coffee brown last night. After I cut them all off. I know, I know, a lot of people think it's not worth doing your nails unless they are long and healthy and beautiful. Well, my nails are healthy, but I have to keep them short so I can play the guitar. And truth be told, I like the look of really short nails painted dark. Just look at Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. She looked awesome.

So anyway, yeah. I'm almost girlie because I like having short, painted nails.

And now I have to go switch my laundry. Have a lovely day.

Okay, so I'm thinking I need to stock up on blank video cassettes before the stores stop selling them all together. Or did they already stop? 'Cuz I could use a bunch more.

We already know that television is my friend. I'll admit that. And I would like to sing it's praises for a few minutes, if I may.

Tuesday night has to be the best all-around television night of the week, as far as I'm concerned, followed closely by Sunday. Sadly, I have commitments on both Tuesday nights and Sunday nights for the next couple of months, so I'll have to record stuff if I want to get to see it, hence the need for lots of blank video cassettes. But anyway.

Tuesday nights. Start off with Gilmore Girls. No, it's not as good as it once was, but it's still a darn good show. I like the fast dialogue. I like that mother and daughter keep each other sane. I like the quirky towns people. I like the random pop culture references that I only get half of the time and the random ancient cultural references that I get most of the time and know I'm a dork because I get them. And I love it that they eat nothing but junk food all the time. I love the world of Stars Hollow and will watch Gilmore Girls to the bitter end. Which hopefully won't be bitter.

Then we go over to House. I love House. Hugh Laurie not only deserved to win his Golden Globe, but he had the best acceptance speech ever. I love having a caustic lead character on prime time television. Yet he's still sympathtic and empathetic and he really loves what he does. And let's face it, he's nice to look at. As are his co-workers. But it is an interesting show that has me laughing out loud from time to time, and it makes me think about stuff, too. I like it. And I like it that it's not following typical story lines, like when House shot down the advances of his co-worker, and that he still gives her crap for that. I love it.

And then we have the new Tuesday night gem, Love Monkey. Maybe it's Tom Cavanaugh. Maybe it's the atypical voice over/real dialogue interactions. Maybe it's because it's about indie music and it features some really good indie musicians. Maybe it's just that it's called Love Monkey. I've only seen one episode (there have only been two), but I'm hooked. Really, give it a watch. It's another fast-paced dialogue show with some really talented actors and some really funny bits.

My other weekday indulgence is My Name is Earl on Thursdays. If you've not yet watched this show, cancel your plans for next Thursday night and camp out in front of your television at 8:00 pm CST. Jason Lee is brilliant. Ethan Suplee is brilliant. The writing is brilliant. The acting is brilliant. And the stories are so frickin' funny. I can't even begin to tell you how much I love this show. Just watch it. Find a friend who has Tivoed every episode and watch them one Saturday afternoon as a marathon. You will not regret the time spent watching My Name is Earl. And then go out and find a friend who you can call Crabman. Everyone needs a Crabman in their life.

Which brings us to Sunday. Simpsons. 'Nuff said. Family Guy. 'Nuff said. Grey's Anatomy...okay, I'll admit that I started watching it for Sandra Oh and Patrick Dempsey (Sandra Oh because the only other thing I'd seen her in was "Sideways" and I wanted to see more of her, and Patrick Dempsey because he looks like an ex-boyfriend of mine who was, well, really hot and very talented and very sweet -- Dr. McDreamy is a very appropriate name for his character), but I've stayed watching it because it's another really quality show. Good, three dimensional characters. Real emotions. Great chemistry between Meredith and Shepard. And George is just so darn sweet.

And then on PBS on Sunday nights, they do the BBC thing, so I can watch the original "The Office" (I love Tim) and "Coupling."

So really, with all that excellent programming on the major networks, who really needs cable? I'd never leave my house.

Okay, I'm, um, going to go buy more pleather pants for when I'm a rockstar. And then I'm going to get my groupies together for a raging party and I'm going to get piss drunk and wake up in a dumpster. Yeah.

(Just trying to shake some of the dork off of me. It's not attractive, I know.)

The nice thing about coming home from a long day at midnight is that there is no traffic on Lawrence Avenue.

Good bye, Chris Penn.

You will be horribly missed.

When I was in college, one of my professors (well, actually two of them) left just before my last year and went on to become the head of the acting department at another university that is really well known for it's theater department (well, just one of them went there, the other guy went elsewhere). And after he left, we heard from him and he compared us to his acting students at this really prestigious university. Keep in mind, the theater department where I went to school had a light board from 1973, and a stage floor so full of pits and holes that sometimes high heels would get caught on the stage. We put on some good shows, but we weren't a big, flashy theater. And this former professor's basic comment was that the kids at the prestigious university were able to get by with okay performances because the other elements of the theater were so amazing -- the lights, the sets, the costumes. But we who had so little had to rely on our performances to sell a show. I took that to mean that he had a lot of confidence in us as actors, and felt like he had taught a really strong group of performers when he was at my university.

I think that applies to other areas of life, too. If you're there because you want to be there, regardless of your resources, you will do the best you can with what you have.

Or at least I will.

I blame my education.

And my upbringing.

And chocolate. You'll go very far if you pay people in chocolate.

I'm just warning you, I may post several very random entries today because I think my brain is in official melt-down mode. I've had songs about nuns and old, unpleasant conversations running through my head nonstop for about two weeks now and it kind of wears on the brain, so it's not really working.

I love WXRT because they are the only radio station in the world that will play Dueling Banjos at 8:30 in the morning just because. It starts out as a joke, but they still let the whole song play. They are one of those radio stations that still plays the songs you really only hear in car commercials now. So when the song starts, you expect Mr. Great Radio Voice man to tell you about the super low financing deals they have going on right now, but he doesn't and instead you get to enjoy the song and the memories of your youth that it brings up. I love that about WXRT.

But anyway, the first random (I guess now the third) thing I wanted to say today is I love it when Moby is in New York City for extended periods of time because his journal entries get more and more entertaining. He thinks they get really mundane, but they start to smack of somebody who hasn't left the house for four days and really just needs some outside human contact, so he starts making things up and posting them and really, he has a great sense of humor, so (at least to me), they come out really funny and not at all mundane. I'm not trying to insinuate that he's a shut-in or anti-social or anything like that -- far from it. I'm pretty darn sure he has a healthy, active social life. I just really like it when he starts posting conversations he has with Neil Diamond songs and tidbits about helicopters and things. Those posts make me smile. And it's good to smile. I've not been smiling anywhere near enough lately.

It smells like the SweetTart factory exploded in my hallway.

I guess one of the things I'm going to have to get used to as I lauch myself into the creative world, is that not every gig, not every show, not every person I meet is going to be perfect or nice or well organized. The artistic world just doesn't work that way. Hell, the world just doesn't work that way.

I just heard on the radio that today is, mathematically speaking, the most depressing day of the year. Hang in there, kids. We've only got fifteen hours and twenty minutes until it's over and it's all uphill from there.

Anyway, not everything is going to be peachy. But in the name of making a living, I'm going to have to suck it up. A lot. In the name of a paycheck. How sad is that?

On the other hand, the good thing about most artistic gigs is that they don't last very long. And eight week theatrical run. One night at some venue. So if I run into a raving lunatic or flaming asshole, I only have to put up with said person for a couple of months. Versus the years of unhappiness I've spent at my day job. So it's not all bad.

That being said, I am finding some fun and interesting ways of venting my frustrations with not-so-wonderful people and in turn, a lot of good and fun and laughter is coming out of it. I went to the batting cages. I wrote a really fantastically angry song yesterday that I'm kind of proud of. So it's not all bad. If I put up with these annoyances for a brief time, I get a paycheck, some exercise, and some creative fodder out of it. I guess that's a fair trade.

Hang in there, kids. Today is going to be rough. But tomorrow will be better. And the day after that. And the day after that. I promise.

(I would like to take a brief moment to point out that out of all of the artistic endeavors I've undertaken thus far, the good, friendly, happy, wonderful people far out number the annoying ones, and for that I am thankful. I've met a lot of really cool people who I am so privileged to know and I want to say a quick thank you to them for, you know, being cool. Being real, decent human beings. You make our line of work so much more fun than it already is and you remind me that I really am one of the lucky ones that I get to do this. Thanks for that.)

My whole body hurts. Especially the heels of my hands. We went to the batting cages last night 'cuz I wanted to blow off some steam and because let's face it, I miss baseball. I miss baseball so much, I'm more excited about the day Cubs tickets go on sale than I am about my last day of work. And man, did it feel good to swing a bat. I made some pretty good contact, too. The medium pitch softballs were the best, I think. I tried medium pitch baseballs and they were a little too fast for my blood, and either type of ball done slow pitch just didn't have enough momentum to make it over the plate anywhere near the strike zone, so for those I was more golfing than batting. But the butt of the bat kept hitting the heels of my hands as I would follow through and I'm sore today. My torso is sore, too -- it's not used to the twisting motion. My arms, too. And to some extent my butt, but I'm not sure why on that one. Maybe the squatting for the batting stance? I dunno. Anyway, it felt really good to swing a bat again. *sigh* One month and three days until Cubs tickets go on sale...

Oh! I almost forgot. Yesterday, my last car payment was taken automatically from my bank account, so I now officially own my car and I am not officially out of debt.

Yay!

It was a long road to get here, don't get me wrong. And it took a lot of help from a few people, and I thank them for that lots and lots and lots. But it's done. I'm out of debt.

Yay!

So for the most part, daytime television is really...dull. Or overly dramatic. Like the 8,000,000 paternity test results that they share on certain shows.

I would like to pause a moment here, get up on my high horse, and say that if you have to test 25 guys to find out who the father of your child is, I think there is a deeper problem that has to be dealt with, too. That aside.

There was one guy on today who just about melted me. He was there to find out if if the 11 month old baby he is completely in love with is his or not, and before the results were read, he promised the mother that he would continue to be there for her and for the child, regardless of whether or not the kid was his. As it turned out, he is not the father. He got up and ran backstage, saying, "Just give me a minute." As soon as he was backstage, he asked where the kid was and said, "Can I just hold him for a minute?" They brought the baby out, and both baby and emotional daddy just lit up the room with their smiles. He hugged that kid so tight and kissed him, and insisted that he is the kid's father, regardless of what the test says. I just about melted. You so often see guys on those shows who can't wait to prove they are not the father so they don't have to take responsibilty. Or when they find out they aren't the father of a child they loved so much, they all of a sudden question their own feelings for the kid. But to see this guy still in love with that baby, still wanting to take care of him and raise him and be his father even if there is not a biological tie...that's impressive. And something I'm really glad I got to see today. I needed a little restoration of faith in humanity today.

I think I'm a pretty easy person to figure out. Granted, I may be biased as I know the whole story, but I still think I'm a pretty easy person to figure out for one big reason. I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

I'm going to jump back to the introvert thing for a minute. Introverts think before they speak. Which means that before I say anything, I've thought about it and I choose my words very carefully to make sure that the words I am using are the most appropriate ones I have at my disposal to describe the situation or express my idea/thought/opinion. Which makes me easy to figure out because it means that all you have to do is listen to what I say. The actual words. Not the words you expect to come out of my mouth in a given situation, but the actual words that actually come out of my mouth. Listen to and process those and bam! I'm easy to figure out.

I kind of hate to be so stuck on the introvert thing, because the more people I tell that I am an introvert, the more I'm seeing that look of, "Oh, shit, what am I dealing with now?" on people's faces. I think people still think introverts are shy and depressed and have no self-esteem and hate people and blah blah blah (hell, I did until a couple weeks ago). I kind of want to make it my mission to make sure that people understand what I mean when I use the word introvert. In the simplest terms I can think of, introverts think before they speak whereas extroverts think while they speak. But again, that's over simplifying things and there are nuances and so on and so forth, and of course, you can't really make generalizations about any segment of the population because there will always be an exception. So at the very least, let me set this part straight: I don't hate people. I'm not depressed (currently). I'm not lacking for self-esteem. I'm not shy. And when you see me sitting off to the side of a room, I'm not being snobbish or self-pitying, I'm thinking. I'm observing. I'm actually having quite a good time. Anyway.

The one thing that is really starting to bug me about being an introvert (maybe not "starting to" because it has bothered me for a while, but it's more present just now) is that other people assume I'm just like them. That my mind works the same way. That my thought processes are the same. They're not. I've known that for years -- it goes way back to my whole "my perception of me versus everyone else's perceptions of me" thing. It bothers me that people think I'm something other than I am before they have a chance to get to know me. It bothers me that people think I have some hidden agenda when I speak. It bothers me that people interpret my speech to mean things other than it does. My brain doesn't work the same way. I gave up hiding things a LONG time ago. I don't lie. I don't try to manipulate people into doing things I want them to do. I'm not that kind of person.

I know there are a lot of people out there like that, introverts and extroverts, men and women, old people, young people, people of every race. I would just like to state right here and now that I'm not one of them. You can take my words at face value. I've put a lot of thought into them and I'm willing to stand by them meaning what they mean.

Unless, of course, I'm being sarcastic, but I usually make my sarcasm pretty obvious.

Two gig rejections this year already. w00t. One of them from a group that specifically organizes shows featuring women playing guitars. And I didn't make the cut. How sad is that?

On the up side, there is a particular sandwich shop that features live music and a branch/franchise of this particular sandwich shop is opening up right around the corner from my house. Hopefully I'll be able to play there a time or two.

I'm feeling lately like things are coming together. I don't know if I'm being really naive or stupidly optimistic, or maybe I'm just on the upswing of my monthly emotional cycle, but I'm starting to get the feeling that I'll be okay. I will keep busy. I will make enough money to keep my apartment and keep food on my table.

Knock on wood.

Fritos and hot tea. Not necessarily bad, but not necessarily good.

So yeah, Hugh Laurie had the best acceptance speech EVER at the Golden Globes last night. And that's about all I have to say about that.

Kiwi is kind of an odd fruit with which to make scones. Not bad, mind you, just odd.

Four and a half weeks left at this job. I gotta find an internet provider for my home. Which, if I get a good one, I can do that internet phone thing, right? Which all translates into, "I have some research to do."

I feel really bad about having to take paying gigs instead of fun gigs. My theater company is not one whereat I'm going to earn any money, unless I start the children's tour thing and it takes off. But I love my theater company and I want to be involved with them. But how much time do I pour into artistic endeavors for which I'm not getting paid anymore, when I really do need that time to make money? Be it doing other artistic things or just plain working? I don't like this.

It's still kind of warm outside, at least for January (knock on wood). I'm kind of afraid that it's all going to go away soon and I'll have to drive out to the suburbs in 3 feet of snow. That would suck.

Yeah, that's about all I got. Sorry I'm so disjointed. It'll all be over soon, I promise.

Hey.

So Friday night's gig was kind of an adventure. I don't think anyone in the audience (except my friends, really) knew what was going on, so that's good. But I went home feeling pretty crappy. I did walk away with a little bit of money, and an offer to play the venue again, which I will probably do. But I guess after years of really good gigs going really well, it was about time I had one with some drama backstage.

It's all good, though. And I do want to thank the venue and the owner and the bartender for having me out there, and to the audience members who stayed late enough to see me actually play. I had a lot of fun playing and I think it was a pretty good set. And it's hard to not enjoy a set by Third Wheel. Thank you to all of the other musicians, too. It really was a night of great music.

So yeah, not at work today because it is Dr. Martin Luther Kng, Jr. day. A great man who did amazing things for this country. And in celebration of everything he did for this country, I'm going to sit in my house and work on things for the play I'm doing out in the 'burbs. Makes sense, huh?

And the Golden Globes are on tonight. Some day, I will actually get to go to them. For now, I'm just going to watch them on TV. As much as I hate to admit it, I love big award shows.

Hi.

So I was going to say something about "at least it's not snowing," but it's supposed to snow later. I've been enjoying the warmer weather this January -- it's a nice change from the arctic December we had. But it's been really gloomy. Cloudy. Drizzly. Gray. I'm not one of those people who gets depressed by a lack of sunlight, but seeing the sun once a week might be nice. The sun came up about 7:15 this morning (I think), and you can't really tell.

I have a gig tonight, too. A Friday the thirteenth gig, which is somehow appropriate as Friday the thirteenth used to be a day when wise women would gather and celebrate. So I get to go play music for people. I hope a lot of people show up. I could use a well attended show to get me going again. In other words, don't be scared by the weather! Come see some live music anyway!

Yeah, that's about all I got. I should have brought breakfast to work with me. I'm hungry.