September 1 - One Year

One year ago yesterday, I said the most difficult goodbye I have ever said as I drove away from my mom and my home. I cried all the way to Indiana.

One year ago today, I drove into Brooklyn with my cat, and was greeted by a policeman who asked me why the hell I would ever move to Brooklyn. 

It has been quite a year, and honestly, I am much more emotional about it today than I thought I would be and it's not even 8:00am. I've done a lot, been through a lot, learned a lot. This is not an all-inclusive list, but in the past year:

• I went from living on own to living with other people and managed to not completely implode despite some of the people being truly awful.

• I found a job where they pay me to be nice and make other people smile, though I had to spend a very long piece of time working with a truly awful woman first before I found the good job. 

• I appeared in five full-length theatrical productions, playing a total of fourteen characters; one monologue festival; and two short play festivals. 

• I became a member of a theatre company.

• I sang in not only three of my five shows, but in Central Park and on my front stoop for total strangers. 

• I got a mention in a New York theatre review. A good mention. 

• I lost my backpack when some asshat stole it out of my moving van. 

• I saw shows on Broadway and off. And off-off. 

• I found a decent apartment with light and windows where my cat and I can be comfortable and I can cook in the kitchen. 

• I befriended some wonderful people, including my upstairs neighbors who are two of the most lovely, caring, giving, thoughtful people.

• I walked probably a thousand miles all over Manhattan. 

• I went out places by myself and found people to talk to. 

• I recorded a song in a studio. 

• I learned that I am much stronger, more capable, smarter, and more resilient than I thought I was. 

• I missed my Chicago friends and family and life more than I can say. 

I wonder a bit of the life I'm building here is just like the life I had in Chicago, just elsewhere, and I'm wondering if I'm okay with that. Should I have taken the steady day job that keeps me funded instead of staying a temp so I would have more time to audition? Should I have gone to more EPAs? Should I be working harder to build a foundation to become a full time artist? 

I think the reality of it is a financial question. I have to live somewhere and I have to eat so I have to do something that pays me regularly. And as far as steady jobs go, the one I have is not bad. The people are lovely and the work itself is fine. But I think in the next year, I need to make sure I don't lose sight of my theatrical goals as I grow within this non-theatrical company. 

To that end, I am thrilled to announce that I will be appearing in King Richard 2 and Romeo & Juliet this October/November with Hamlet Isn't Dead. And I still have my own projects churning in the back of my head. 

I said when I moved out here that I would give it three years before I seriously consider the question of whether I want to spend the rest of my life in New York or if I want to go back to Chicago, or elsewhere. I'm one-third of the way through my experiment and having a lot of fun, finding a lot of value in the adventure. 

But for today, I am going to feel all of the feels as I remember driving away from my mom last year on one of the hardest days of my life. Happy anniversary to me. 

Casual Intimacy

A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to see one of my favorite musicians play a free show in a little bar in Brooklyn. It was exactly what I needed just then to reinforce my faith in my badassery. I saw on Twitter that he was going to be out and about, so I emailed him to find out where. He responded within an hour and I made a plan to get to the show come hell or high water. It was a great show. He played so many of the songs I needed to hear, and it was just him with a guitar, which was lovely. Not that I don't like his band - I do, very much - but the intimacy of a solo acoustic show in a little divey hipster bar in Williamsburg...it was perfect. After the show, he was outside smoking a cigarette and talking to fans and I managed to grab him for my daily selfie. He put his arm around me, leaned into the picture, and when we went to let go, he very casually kissed the top of my head before walking away to talk to someone else. To be clear, I'm not insinuating that this meant anything. If you asked him, he wouldn't even know he had done it, in part because he was very drunk, and in part because it was as natural a motion to him as blinking. You've got your arm around a friend who is shorter than you, and when you let go, you first give a little squeeze and kiss them on the top of the head. It's an easy target and a common motion. For me, it was kind of a surreal moment. To meet this man and be treated like, I don't know what, an equal? A person? It was lovely. I know it meant nothing to him, but from my end, it was lovely. And lately, when I have been feeling stressed and sad, I just remember that one time when Frank Turner kissed the top of my head and it makes me smile. 

See, the last man who I tried to date also had this habit of kissing the top of my head, or my forehead, or my cheek, when we were out and about. With him, it was a different kind of intimacy, an acknowledgment that right then, in that moment, I was his and he was happy to have me there. Yes, it had a smattering of Jeff Winger patting Annie on the head, but it was sweet. It was different from other men I've tried dating. It was, to me, an almost more intimate gesture than a "larger" display of affection would have been. And if we're being completely honest here, it might be what I miss most now that I don't see him anymore. We did not part on bad terms - it just fizzled because of insane schedules - so when I remember the nice things, they do make me ache a little bit. And what I miss most is the little stuff. The beautiful, tiny, casual intimacy that a kiss on the top of the head can be. 

I will find the little intimacies again; it just takes time to find the right people in a new city. But if Frank Turner can kiss me on the top of the head, there has to be someone else in this city of eight million people who will, too. Right?

Diversity

Diversity!

It's a catch word now that stands for empowerment and growth and strength and tolerance and acceptance and all of that stuff. We need diversity in the workplace! We need diversity on television! We need diversity in film!

Yes, yes we do. And we need diversity in our everyday lives, too.

Now, please don't take this the wrong way because I am a feminist and I am all about equal rights for everyone. But I do sometimes wonder if our cries for diversity actually end up segregating us more than they bring us together. For example, if I'm going to be a crusader for women's rights, I'm probably going to surround myself with other women so we can encourage and empower each other, right? And if I then decide that it is really women of color who need my support, I'm going to find a group of women of color that I can belong to and help out. And then if it turns out that I find that the rights of lesbian women of color, or transgender women of color is really what I'm passionate about, I'll seek out those groups that I can help and support. So now I'm surrounded by lesbian and/or transgender women of color who are different to me (because I'm not lesbian, transgender, or of color), which would seem to be a good thing because diversity, yay! But what about all of the non-lesbian, non-transgender, non-females in the world who also might have something to offer? Or who I might also be able to help? Or who might just be really kick-ass friends to go have a beer with sometime?

I bring this up because of a reading of a play that I went to last week on my one night off. A man who I met at a monologue festival had an actress drop out on him last minute, so he asked if I could fill in at this reading he was doing in his back yard. I agreed and went over to read a play. When I walked in, I suddenly felt very odd and it took me a minute to figure out why. It wasn't that I was in a new apartment for the first time, or that I'd not been to this guy's house before. It was that I was the only woman in the room. This is not a new experience for me - I have spent a lot of my life being outnumbered by men - but it was strange in that it has been a long time since that happened. The office I work in is mostly women. The play I'm in right now is mostly women. The theatre company I am a member of is all women. And while all of this is great because it means opportunities for women, it made the reading last week odd because I had almost forgotten what male energy felt like.

The thing is, I like men. I know a lot of men, a lot of quality men. My best friend in Chicago, my brother, my uncles, my friend's husbands...I know a lot of really great men with positive energy who are supportive and funny and generous. And I realized that by spending so much time with groups of almost exclusively women, I'm missing out on all of this great potential energy. I'm missing out on the different viewpoints offered by the male perspective. I'm missing out on diversity in my own life. I'm missing out on it to the point where it almost made me want to start dating just to introduce some more men into my life who I could see on a regular basis. Almost. I'm not that desperate. Yet.

So I guess the takeaway from this is that yes, we should be promoting diversity to make sure that everyone gets a fair shot in the grand scheme of things. But I also think that we shouldn't dive so far into our little diversity buckets that we forget how many other buckets there are. There is a lot of value to be found in exploring new buckets.

I Don't Know

One might think that as intelligent as I am that I know a lot of things about a lot of things. To some degree, one would be right. What never fails to amaze me, though, is how much I still don't know.

There are some things I don't mind not knowing. Like when I go into a rehearsal with some ideas, and the director presents other ideas that turn out to work better. I love not knowing those better ideas first, because it means I get to collaborate and learn and grow and expand my horizons.

But I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not talk to you anymore. I don't know how to make myself not want to send you a message asking how you're doing and how your projects are coming along. I don't know how to make myself want to share my exciting news with someone other than you, or, once I have shared the news with everyone but you, to make it feel like I've told everyone I need to tell.

I also didn't know how to be in a friendship/relationship/whatever it was with someone who didn't have the time. I know how to not have time - I'm very good at not having time, which makes me very empathetic towards others who don't have time. But I don't know how to be friends with someone who doesn't have time for me or our friendship. And my need to get out of that situation is what has left me in this current one where I don't know how to deal with the fallout.

I think things were different when I lived in Chicago, too. When I was in Chicago and I had to stop having someone in my life, I was still surrounded by friends who loved me, who would commiserate and get a beer with me, who would reinforce the fact that there are those out there who deem me worthy of spending time with and on. They, whether they knew it or not, would keep me from losing sight of the fact that I know I am worth the time and energy. And while I am still friends with those people, and I am still in touch with them, it's different now that I'm a thousand miles away. Getting a beer and a hug has been replaced with a few text messages. It's lovely and appreciated, but it's not the same. So I find myself a bit lost and confused, and pissed off that I'm lost and confused because I really didn't even know you all that long, and stuck a thousand miles away from my touchstones who usually help me get a grip when I need to talk through all of this crap.

So I'm admitting here that I don't know how to do this. I'm admitting here that I probably screwed it all up because I don't know how to do this right, and that I'm probably still screwing things up by bothering to still be bothered. I'll get past it eventually. I know I will. I always do. Because I am smart and capable and funny and creative and passionate and strong as hell. And, despite the loss and confusion now, I can look back on the whole thing and say I learned some very important lessons about myself. Like maybe I could actually do this, and that there could be someone out there for whom I would want to make the time.

But in the meantime, how are you?

The Little Things

I know it's not considered cool to show emotion these days. When you start dating someone or when you're applying for a job, or hell, when you're walking down the street by yourself, you're supposed to keep your cool. Not show your hand. Maintain a poker face.

I say, screw that.

One of my favorite things about myself (that I'm pretty sure is a result of my acting training) is that I feel things and that I allow myself to feel things. Feeling things is fun. It's great to be happy, it's useful to be sad, it can be cathartic to get really angry for a short while. And I love that I'm the sort of person who lets herself be affected by things. Even the little things. Especially the little things.

There have been some seemingly minor things in my life lately that have been bringing me immense joy and I want to take a moment to acknowledge them. Mostly, they have to do with the people around me choosing to invest their time and energy in me and then letting me know that not only do they not regret the investment, but feel that they have received a significant return on investment by doing so. I know, I know, it sounds so clinical when I say it that way, but I think we're all used to the level of anonymity I like to maintain in these posts. What I mean is that I feel appreciated in my personal and professional lives at the moment, and that the simple kindness of these people letting me know I am appreciated in actions and in words moves me to tears sometimes. Usually when it would be really inappropriate to start crying. But I love that the impulse is there.

So my advice to you would be this. Find one small thing in your life that makes you happy. Put your music-listening device on shuffle and let your smile take over your face when your favorite song comes on when you weren't expecting it. Let yourself take thirty seconds in the middle of your work day to think about how you can make best friend or lover smile that day. Treat yourself to your favorite sandwich. Forget about everything else you have to do and just enjoy playing catch or tug of war with your dog for a few minutes. Find one small thing that makes you happy. And revel in that joy. Treat that small thing as if it were the most important thing in all the world. Because it is. For you, in that moment, all you have to do is feel joy.

Once you master that, you'll be amazed at how easy it is to find joy when you need it. And how easy it is to give to others, too.

December 31 - Resolutions

This time last year, I was in Cardiff, Wales, being an uber geek with my best friend. Today, I am drinking tea and watching Doctor Who at my mom's house, and I'll see my best friend later in the day. Some things don't change and I sometimes thank goodness that they don't. 

I'm not much of one for resolutions. I've already laid out my career goals for 2015, and I'm looking forward to getting started on them. But in addition to my career goals, I think I want to make sure to put in the effort required to maintain my existing relationships and to build new ones. I want to put in the effort required to stay physically and mentally healthy, because without my health, I won't be able to achieve my other goals. And I want to be able to keep doing the things I'm doing. I want to keep being authentic. Most of all, I want to keep creating and being a positive influence on the world around me. Not just in the coming year, but just sort of in general. So nothing big. 

I hope that wherever you are, you have a safe and happy new year, and that at least some of your dreams come true in the coming year. And when they do, enjoy them. And then keep on dreaming. 

Happy New Year! And thank you for coming with me on this two-year-long blogging every day adventure. I'll be back sometime. Just not tomorrow. 

December 30 - Review

I feel like I should do a sort of Year In Review post, though it also feels a little silly to do so since I've posted every day this year so really, it's all here already. But here we go anyway. 

I was in about seven plays and one film. 

I completed season 1 of Just a Fling. 

I read probably ten-fifteen books. 

I moved 800 miles away from home. 

I got a new job. 

I made twenty or thirty new friends. 

I learned that I am stronger than even I thought I was. 

I learned that I am more capable than I thought I was. 

I learned that the people who are most important to you stay in your life, regardless of geography. 

I purged a lot of my stuff and learned that I really don't miss it. 

I learned how to play the ukulele. 

I got a second tattoo. 

I saw one of my favorite musicians play two shows in one day. 

I spent time in three countries on two continents. 

I learned how to live with other people. Kind of. 

I learned how to be more giving. 

I learned to not place so much importance on stuff and ownership. 

I identified some societal "norms" to which I no longer want to subscribe. 

I walked I don't even know how many miles and lost about eight pounds. 

All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good year. Big changes. Lots of growth. Yes, I was stressed out and cried a lot for a couple of months leading up to my move, but the net result has been very positive so far, and tears can be good for you every now and again. 

So I won't be documenting 2015 quite as thoroughly, but I'm excited to see what it has in store. I'm excited to get working on my goals, and I'm excited to see what unexpected challenges and opportunities might come my way. 

Now if only it was a smidge warmer outside so I wasn't so afraid to leave the comfort of a nice, warm bed. 

December 29 - Transitive Property

So, if Person A is in my karass, and Person B is in my karass, does that mean that Person A is also in Person B's karass? 

December 28 - 2015

I feel a little bit bad that my posts the past few days have been crappy. There is a lot going on in my head; I've just not really been motivated to write about it. I'm thinking about what's next for me and what I've accomplished and the things I haven't done and goals and challenges that I could lay out for myself. And I'm thinking about all of this while I'm in my hometown, 800 miles away from the life I'm trying to build. I'm anxious to get back to building my life, but I am so treasuring my time in Chicago with my family and friends and points familiar. Chicago feels small and slow and spread out, but warm and welcoming and home-y. New York feels big and fast and strange, but exciting and full of potential. And all of this swirling around in my brain when I'm far away from being able to do much about it just has me feeling weird. 

One thing that I was thinking about today, though, was this blog. I've proven that I can blog every day. Challenge met, achievement unlocked. And I now find myself in a place where I wonder if these daily posts are sapping creative energy from other outlets. Would I be writing more songs or plays or whatever if I wasn't focusing my writing energy on blogging every day? Because I have ideas for things I want to write, but having this daily brain dump, I just haven't taken the time to write the other stuff. Maybe I need to put a cork in this creative outlet so that the other ones can open up. 

I'm not going to abandon this blog completely. I've had it too long to give it up. But I think I am going to take the pressure off of myself to write on a specific schedule. If I have something to say, I'll post. If I don't, I won't. My blog every day experiment is going to end on December 31. So let's see what other things I can create in 2015 when I'm not worried about blogging every day. 

December 27 - New York

As I spent the day with my nieces (seeing them for the third time in four days which was heavenly), and I am now waiting for my friends to come meet me at out designated meeting spot, New York feels a million miles away in my distant past. It is going to be weird to go back there in a week and start again to look for projects and things with which to fill my time. 

December 26 - Haiku

Day after Christmas

New friends, good food, Doctor Who

Happy Boxing Day

December 25 - Christmas

I hope that whatever your belief system, you had a lovely day today, full of laughter and family and things that bring you joy. 

Of course, I hope that for most days, so on top of that, for today, I'm going to say Merry Christmas. Mine was lovely; how was yours?

December 24 - Holidays

Today, I did some holiday type things - I baked cookies, I wrapped one last gift, I listened to Christmas music. And it was actually quite nice. 

Maybe part of it is that I'm happy to be back in Chicago. Ridiculously happy to be in Chicago with my family and my friends and some time to spend. Not that I don't love New York. I do, and I've met wonderful people there and done amazing things. But there's something about coming back to your hometown... Go listen to Frank Turner's "Wessex Boy" so I don't have to quote it for you. 

But I'm also wondering if some of the stress and anxiety surrounding the holidays in previous years has to do with how long the season lasts. In some cases, it is two or three months of buying things and menu planning and making lists and checking things off only to find more things to do, and realizing that since you have more time, you can do more stuff until you're right up at the end of things and you feel like you didn't do enough because you're still thinking of more that you could do. 

This year, I was in a show in December, which are up a lot of my time. It meant I really only had that one afternoon in which to do my shopping. And now I'm in Chicago with one morning to do my baking. So I've had to keep things simple. Downsize. Which makes the activities that much more special. I think if you listen to "All I Want for Christmas is You" forty-seven-thousand times, it loses its specialness whereas if you hear it just once, it can be special because it reminds you that this time of year is different. So maybe that's part of my problem with the holiday season. It is so long that it doesn't feel special. But this year, in keeping the season condensed for myself, I am more able to treasure the time spent with my loved ones and the things we get to do together that we don't get to do any other time of year. 

I am excited to go to my family's gathering tonight. I'm excited to hug everyone and see their smiling faces. I'm excited to sing and eat and exchange silly little gifts. I'm excited for Christmas this year. 

And to my friends and family, I love you. Thank you for letting me be part of your holiday season, and thank you for being the highlight of mine. 

December 23 - Sweet Home, Chicago

Hello, Chicago. You're looking lovely. 

December 22 - Short

I'm keeping this short today because all I can think about right now is going to Chicago tomorrow and hugging my family and friends. Tomorrow may also be short 'cuz I'll be driving. Sorry about that. 

December 21 - Processing

It occurred to me when I got home after closing night last night that this is the first I've had a chance to really process everything that has happened to me in the last four months. I left everything, started a new life, got a new job, was cast in three back-to-back shows, made new friends, found a new home. That's a lot. And it requires some processing time, which is sort of what I'm doing today, and it is why I have no plans to leave my apartment today. 

I want to say a very big, very heartfelt thank you to the New York theatre community for welcoming me so completely. In the past three months, I have been so fortunate to work with three amazing directors, two lovely assistant directors, seven incredible producers, twenty-nine phenomenal actors, three brilliant stage managers, and I don't even know how many amazing designers. I've built relationships with people I hope to know for a very long time and who I am excited to work with again in the future. And what's more, they want to work with me, too. I was so scared when I moved to New York that I would not be able to do theatre, that the move to pursue my dream would be in vain. Not only was I allowed to do theatre, I was encouraged and my art embraced. No matter what else happens during my time in New York, I can count this experiment a success, in large part owing to the generosity and faith of the people mentioned above. Thank you to everyone I have worked with in the past four months. Thank you. 

Now I just need to figure out a way to keep the mojo flowing. After a trip home to recharge my batteries. And a day spent inside watching old sci-fi favorites. 

December 20 - Done

And just like that, I'm an actor looking for a project. 

And happy birthday to the cutest human being alive!

December 19 - Beauty Standards

I found myself deeply saddened on the train today, when I saw a woman who had drawn on fuller lips than what she actually has. She made the little peaks on her top lip bigger by drawing little triangles with her lipstick, to give the appearance of a more heart-shaped mouth and it made me really sad. No, this woman had not taken measures as drastic as some do to make herself "more attractive," but she drew on fake lips because somewhere, at some point in her life, someone made her feel so bad about her thin upper lip that she would prefer to walk around looking (in my estimation) clownish. It made me sad for all of the things that women think they have to do to themselves in order to be attractive or to feel good about themselves. 

I know another woman with a great figure who honestly believes she cannot wear a bikini because she doesn't have ultra-flat six-pack abs. I would kill for her figure, but because her tummy is slightly rounded, she thinks it would be socially abhorrent to wear a bikini. 

Why the fuck do we do these things to ourselves? Why do we nitpick and judge and condemn our bodies if they vary from some arbitrary standard of beauty?

One thing I have noticed since I moved to New York is exactly how beautiful diversity is. The man in a purple mini dress and heels was gorgeous. The teenagers in puffy coats with fabulous weaves were gorgeous. The couple in their seventies exploring the city was gorgeous. There are so many people here, with so many faces and so many skin tones and so many wrinkles and so many blemishes and so many personalities and they are all gorgeous. I wish I could tell that to all of them in a way that they would actually hear it because I would love to live in a world where we all embrace our bodies and where we are all allowed to just be ourselves. 

I know that world is a long way off. But in the meantime, please know that you are gorgeous just as you are. And you know what? I am, too. 

December 18 - Thoughts on the Past

The thing is, everybody thinks, in retrospect, that they weren't cool in high school. Or most people do, anyway. Because looking back on something that happened so long ago with older, wiser eyes, none of us was cool in high school by today's standards. Even with geek chic being in, those of us who were really geeks back in high school suffered because geekdom was not cool back then. Dungeons and Dragons was not mainstream. Only those on the fringe of things knew what Doctor Who was. Indie bands were actually indie. The world was very different when we were in high school, and we were very different people.

I was legitimately not cool in high school. Not in anyone's estimation. There may have been a moment or two when I thought I was verging on coolness, but I quickly found out it was all in my head. I was the epitome of not cool in high school. And it had nothing to do with my having braces or glasses or bad skin. It was who I was. I was on the outskirts of things. I was unknown. I was invisible. If I may, I would like to present a few examples to illustrate my point.

• My high school did a lot for "holiday week," including assembling a troupe of kids who would travel around to the local elementary schools and put on little shows for them. I remembered seeing these performances when I was in elementary school and making a mental note that I would like to do that when I became a high school student. Flash forward to my senior year of high school. I found out that to become part of this performing troupe, one had to fill out and submit an application. I got an application, filled it out, and showed it to a couple of my friends before handing it in, just to get another set of eyes on it. My friends all agreed that it was hysterically funny and encouraged me to turn it it. So I did. And when the list was posted saying who would be part of the traveling troupe, my name was not on it. One of my friends who had read my application was part of the troupe. She told me that she asked the people in charge of putting the group together, very casually, if they had had an opportunity to read mine because she thought it was funny. They apparently replied that they had read mine and it was one of the funniest in the bunch, but as they had not seen me perform before, they were unsure of my performance abilities and didn't think it would be fair to give me an audition and nobody else, so they decided it would be best to not have me be part of the troupe. 
• My very first date in high school, I asked a guy to the Turnabout (read: Sadie Hawkins) dance. The only Homecoming dance I went to, I was asked by that same guy the following year. It was our second date.
• Then there was the whole story of my senior prom.
• I spent an entire Spanish class sitting in a file cabinet in the back of the room while my bookbag was on the floor in the front row next to my empty desk right smack dab in front of the teacher, and she never once inquired as to where I was. I made eye contact with her the following period, too, and she never asked where I was during class.
• I auditioned for exactly one play in high school, and some of my fellow students who saw my audition said it was really good. I was not called back for the play or cast in it, but the kid who auditioned just before me who read the stage directions out loud was. I get it - they needed more boys than girls - but still.
• Not to mention the fact that I've already been to one high school reunion and I think there were two people there who recognized me. I had a lovely time talking to one of them, but in a room full of two hundred or so people, to only even be recognized or acknowledged by 1% of them is a little sad.
• I had a couple of good moments in high school, though they largely had to do with kids from my sister high school with whom I was in the smart kids program. Like when we went to Spain. That was pretty awesome. Until the boy I had a crush on in Spain told me, "You're a great girl, you could just use a little more self-confidence" before he started hooking up with someone else.
• I spent just about my entire high school career wishing that I wouldn't wake up in the morning. Or that if I did have to wake up, some horrible physical malady would have overcome me in the night, making it impossible for me to go to school that day. I was miserable. I felt very alone. I felt not only unloved but actively ignored. And I guess I am still somewhat resentful that this portion of my formative years was so horrible.

So with the reunion coming up, it's not a matter of feeling old. It's not that I'm worried that I haven't done anything with myself. I have become a truly amazing, truly wonderful person since leaving high school. I've traveled the world. I've starred in plays and films. I had my own band. I moved to New York and got cast in three plays within my first eighteen days here. I found a group of friends in Chicago who are brilliant and supportive and generous. I've made good connections here in New York, too. I have become the sort of person who other people like being around (for the most part). I am a productive member of society and a talented artist. My hesitation in going to the reunion is wondering whether or not it is worth it to go out of my way to show these people who didn't give a shit about me back then that I'm worth giving a shit about now. It feels like a lot of effort to try to maybe gain the approval of a bunch of people who are more likely in my granfalloon than my karass. It could be gratifying to get their approval or get their attention, but do I really need it? I'm trying to get away from seeking the approval of those I know will never give it. Is going to this reunion going to be a step backward in that process?

There is still time for me to think about all of this before the reunion happens. And it sounds like there is a lot of work for me to do in letting go of this resentment of my past, too.

Happy holidays, kids.

December 17 - Stumped

Discussions have started surrounding my next high school reunion. I'm not even sure where to begin.