The Strawhat Auditions

Failure number one.

The strawhat auditions are somewhat difficult to get accepted into. I know they personally didnt allow one of my best actor friends to attend. I was so excited to get accepted in November. A mass audition for a huge group of regional theatres ready to cast their summer stock! Something very prestigious? Something where a good job could be had for the taking.

Nope.

This was a mass audition so theatres could cast decent actors in their internship programs, make them pay almost $1,000 and have them move chairs all summer.

There were college musical theatre students EVERYWHERE. Warming up, hugging each other. Singing their Rents and their Wickeds and calling their moms talking about callbacks in the hallway.

They are in shape. I am not. This is something I very painfully came to terms with yesterday.

Not to mention all the good theatres left before monday.

Not that I felt great about my audition.

Shit.

Also I pretty much stopped running. I could blame the snow or too much work, but Ive stopped. I can feel it.

Crap.

The Strawhat Callback Wall 1pm
My name is on one of these.

One.

Where do we go from here?

I guess I am new to blogging.

I recently joined this cool website and am reading all these amazing blogs. I mean, these people really know how to WRITE. These writers have all these beautiful nuances, and funny quips in their writing that I simply don't know how to do.

Why am I always discouraged by the successes of others? lame.

Beyond that, they seem to have a lot of anonymity going on. That would probably help me. Or I could start over and talk about all of the real feelings and nutcase escapades I am embarking on.

Facebook is the main problem. Or maybe Ill start over.

But I dont WANT to start over. This is a STORY.

But I want to talk about my breakup and other wanton adventures.

But that wont be good for anyone involved but me.

oh yeah.

Maybe time to start over?

Or maybe start a writing journal?

Maybe make new friends who you can TALK to?

Or maybe who the hell cares?

Maybe I'll just un-post my blog from facebook.

P.S. Hit 60 miles today. Booyah.

My own empty subway car. I swung around all the poles and felt very free.

Home for the holidays

First time home from New York. I was snowed in for the weekend with the rest of the east coast, and had the inevitable tantrum when, on my birthday, my flight and then my rescheduled flight were both canceled.

Then I cowboyed up, which is my new mantra for this twenty-seventh year of my life, and got myself dressed to go shopping in snow covered Manhattan. What a dream. Manhattan at Christmas! The thing I am beginning to learn about this island is that people revel in the struggles that befall the community. They love to greet each other with the latest frustration. "Oh the trains, right?" or "Can you believe this weather?" One quickly feels like she belongs. This is exactly where I am meant to be. At least sometimes I feel that. I feel it way more than I did in Los Angeles anyway.

So homeward bound I was, traveling business class because my mom accidentally booked me fancy for my flight home. Between two very similar chick movies and bottomless wine from Wente wineries, I relaxed through the turbulence and landed in San Francisco.

Most things are right where they are supposed to be right now. Who can ask for more? Well, actually there are a couple things I could ask for...but not now.

not now.

And I made it to seventy miles today. I am a little behind. Now to cram the last thirty miles in eight days!

7:43 am...

Two minutes before my alarm goes off, the guy who I had an appointment with today cancels.

Not a good start...

June = Weddings

I may not have told you...I am not sure whether it matters to you or not, but...well...I am twenty-six years old. That may mean nothing to anyone. In Los Angeles it means I am over the hill unless I look very young (I do). In the rest of my life it means that I all my closest friends are getting married this summer. That is where I have been in June.

(oh. and i did two films too!)

But the weddings were amazing. My friends from home (Northern California) are amazing. I have yet to find as good of friends as the ones I made growing up, (except my current roommate and my best pal from college, Skip).

However.

My last day of "wedding vacation" Michael Jackson died, and I just about had a huge panic attack. This was the day I was going to be driving back to smelly old Los Angeles from very close to San Francisco, and I was losing it. Here is a little of my breakdown:

What am I doing with my life?
Why would I leave this area for anything?
I already miss my parents and they are getting older and I love them and I was blessed with such a wonderful family and friends in the Bay Area, why would I leave them?
Am I a masochist?
Is my boyfriend right for me?
Did I do everything right for Steph's wedding? Was I there for her? Did I screw up anything?
Is Barbara mad at me for not getting her in time to bustle the dress?
MICHAEL!!! MICHAEL!!! My childhood is crumbling before me!

This is a very weird transitioning period for me.

What if I moved back to San Francisco and became a teacher and lived in the city?

Man. How the HELL am I going to do this??

Maybe I should see a therapist...thoughts?

Do Yourself a Favor

So I have been working my gazankus off at Bizou this week. I am so damn sick of that place that I could scream. I am sick of the customers, of my co-workers, my boss, the bar, the kitchen, just everything. I work in the morning and am done at 3. Then I have to go back at six. This is my break. On my break I read people's blogs and try to make myself disappear.

You know how they tell you that only you can make yourself happy and you have to will things to happen and yadda yadda? How the HELL does anyone actually do that? I mean, I know they are right, but I am so sick of just being downright miz. Is New York going to help this?

I'll tell you what has helped today. This AMAZING blog. Do yourself a favor and read this gloriousness.

Afterwards, if you have time and your eyes don't hurt because you couldn't take them away from the page, read this blog too.

You are welcome.

I'm off to make myself happy.

One Thousand Dollars

Somehow my PARENTS in Northern California got the letter from the Los Angeles Police Department about my "unsafe left turn" ticket.

Fine. Send it to me. Right?

No. Of course my dad opens it (rips it open) and reads it. They proceed to call me and tell me that this little mistake of mine is going to cost me upwards of a thousand dollars. I am shocked. There is NO way I can afford a thousand dollar ticket. Okay, I reason, they will take some off when I show them I DO actually have insurance. Then my dad proceeds to nag me about how irresponsible I am. I proceed to tell him that its none of his business. That's when the fight begins.

First of all let me explain that I have been completely financially independent for almost three years. Meaning, I have been out of college and paying my own rent etc for three years. How dare he tell me that I am not doing a good job taking care of myself?? Most of my girlfriends from high school and college are still getting SOME help from their parents. (Many of whom I have somehow ceased to relate, I must admit.)

How dare they open my mail? What the hell? They do nothing but tell me that acting is a ridiculous profession and that I am "stupid" for moving to New York. Not ONCE have they said ANYTHING positive about how I am living my life.

This all might have been less of a big deal if there wasn't a thousand dollars involved. How am I going to move to New York with this kind of drag on my budget? No. I'm not going there. Actually I am going to fight this ticket, because I am a big girl even though my parents refuse to see it.

I know how to fight my own battles.

setback

um...yeah. Didnt go to class. Didnt talk to Mr. Carnegie. Went to my boyfriend's house and Ross with my sister and bothered the crap out of both by constantly (involuntarily) sighing due to anxiety.

Should have gone. Should have fought the man harder.

I fought the law and the law won.

I have had a hard week. I have run exactly FIVE days this week so far and tomorrow will be the sixth. I have done well. One step a week. Thats what I say.

Failure. Failure is where the sighs come from. Should have...should have...should have. I am a different person when I am in this mode. This self deprecating person. Idiot, should become a teacher. Maybe I would be happier. Maybe I would feel like I gave up. Maybe both. As long as I get out of Los Angeles, who cares?

And I have Bob* tomorrow. At least I get to wear my own clothes. Clothes to dump piss. Clothes to acquiesce in. I hate Bob* because he is miserable and he reminds me of my own misery. How dare he?

I will run tomorrow. At least I have done that. That and got a huge driving ticket. Im really screwed on that one. Oh man. Here comes the sighing again. Ok. Bath and sleeping pills and bed. I wake up in the middle of the night frustrated. Frustrated for sleep and angry at my stupid self for being so lame. I woke up an hour before my alarm this morning and stared at my ceiling. I am awake another day. I am wasting my life.

Totally preventable failure number one.

Setback #3 - The Moving Violation

I got a ticket today.

It sucks.

It’s really easy to think that the world is against you and why me when I hear people speeding by my f**ing house every darn day. What the hell? I am a good person! I drive safely!

I wasn’t even speeding.

Something about an unsafe left turn.

The truth is I almost got into a HUGE accident, and if I were the police I would have pulled me over too. I didn’t see the car coming for me and swerved and missed it and another car also. Someone is watching out for me. Someone who probably feels pretty damn unappreciated right now. Do you know how BAD this could have been??

I still cried uncontrollably for about two hours. I still called my boyfriend and made it his problem while he was working a sixteen hour day. Let’s try not to think about the fact that I got another ticket less than eighteen months ago so it’s going on my record and my insurance will probably go up AGAIN, when it’s already over $300 a month.

But here’s the DEAL: when I move to NEW YORK, I won’t need a car and I won’t need insurance or points or anything. So there. F-you Los Angeles. You can’t beat me.

Setback #2

I woke up this morning homesick. I am homesick for the Bay Area. I miss my family.

It is so much easier to be upset that they are jerks because that makes me less sad to miss them.

They're not jerks. I'm a pansy.

It's going to become my main problem.

Setback #1

My parents came into town this weekend. Not so supportive of the move. Not so supportive of acting really. Waiting for me to bite the bullet and get my teaching credential so I can teach second grade at Burton Valley Elementary School in Lafayette. My dad even referred to me as the "stupid daughter who is moving to Brooklyn." He took it back, a little drunk, a little sad. "Im just going to miss you. I am afraid I wont see you as much." He should have just left it at stupid daughter. That I knew he didnt mean. That I wont see him is what hurts, is whats dissappointing.

What am I supposed to do? Stay here and rot in Los Angeles? Stay here while the hot sun bakes my brain and fries my soul?

I don't want to do this. I want to stay here and try to be in film and movies and live with my sister forever and never get married because I'm never going to be happy anyway and Im always going to want more so whats the point? If I move to New York, I lose the only things that are keeping me out of bed. Why am I taking that chance?

I feel like Im being dramatic again. I get so annoyed with myself. Why cant I be someone else where things are more clear? Why couldnt I just have my path chosen for me somehow so I wouldnt always have to wonder if I am going the right way.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. Im not good at this. Im not good at writing. Shut up.