hm...

Funny kind of day.

Woke up at 630 am.
Shower. Brush teeth. Straighten hair. (Haven't done that in quite some time. Tedious)

2 audition day. 1 waiting all day. 2 prearranged appointment. Protein shake for lunch. Innocently dissipates my hatred toward peanut butter. I like this. Change. :)

Reading Death of Frank by Stephen Belber in Bryant Park on lunch break. Always casting in my head. Would love to see the production manifested in mind right now. Soon.

2nd day of work at Roundabout. Kind of loving it...dinner. debating between cheap and healthy. $1 empanadas between 4pm and 7?? SOLD. 3:56. Hm...

Ducked into St. Mary's. My flair for the spontaneous absurd. Actually bcuz I thought it'd be air-conditioned. Pff. Just like Catholics. The suffering continues.

First time in a church since...adolescence, maybe? Since mass even longer...

Can't deny its opulence. Perspective. Smells good. Frankincense. Myrhh.

Thanks for the cushioned seat.

Empanadas. Mmm.

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Fear as empowerment...

Oh jeeze...

Here we are again...round and round we go on this scary carousel.

I always appreciated the ride of the carousel...but it has always sincerely creeped me out. I was never immediately attracted to the horse-seats. Instead I would scope out the otherwise plain, seat-seats. Perhaps I enjoyed watching others' enjoyment. A spectator...trying to learn how to enjoy it myself. Picking up clues. And applying them. But even then in my pink bikeshorts and oversized minnie-mouse t-shirt with side scrunch to match my side ponytail, it never felt organic. real. but I knew I was a kid, and kids were supposed to have fun. I tip my hat to my parents...mom, especially...she always taught me a.to be silly and b.why.

My mother always had the answer to my incessant "why?" I can't recall her ever resting on the earth-shattering "because!"

And here I am...the risks and adventures I dare to take in my life today are now inspirations to her. It seems glamorous, eh?

So...I've been going on countless interviews since I've gotten back home (heh) to the city...like 4. Much like auditions...I try not to be overly prepared, leave room for impulse. Only thing I've forgotten about myself temporarily, my impulse only strikes gold when I am comfortable. And I am in a cluster-fuck world right now. I have sublet my sublet for this month to save money on the rent I had to pay in May. Really, it all makes sense. please don't inquire.

However, I am nowhere and everywhere all at once. Which is liberating, and some such thrill...but, at the end of the day, I'm a libra. And I like having my home. Do not get me wrong, living in Yvonne Gougelet's shoes all week...waking up next to a wall-sized collage of naked lady postcards and pictures, has been...confirming to say the very least. And I've enjoyed it. No matter how long it takes me to get ANYWHERE in the city... :| long.

My impulses tend to be spot on in the condition that I am grounded. Perhaps I've shyed away from going to any auditions all week with the veil threat that I'll never get a real job waiting around all day at the equity office, or perhaps I'm shamed to think what kind of work would come from this "quivering clitoris" (-that's a direct quote from David Kwiat btw) I appear to be right now. Idk...my monologues are stale. But I should...it's what I came here to do.

I'm scared. My horoscopes have been right on all week pretty much. they've been very encouraging, but you know what? Not. No, they've been putting a lot of pressure on me and my positive mind. And it has fallen asleep too early at the party...it is getting whip-creamed and peeing itself with a hand dipped in lukewarm water by none other than the lingering, skinny, sunken-eyed hipster that is my "if-self" mehhhh "what if you don't?--what if nothing?--what if you're wrong?" and I just want to snap that twiggy little fucker. and smoke the rest of it's clove.

How dare they come in here and kick me while I'm down? I've got a little ways to climb, I'm no dummy...but you gotta start somewhere, right? That's what they say, right? So here. This. I'm gonna start here.

Nothing to fear, but fear "if-self." Hard as it may be, but I'm gonna try and meditate on the positive, confident woman I came here to not care if anyone sees. I want to be in love with the world...but I gotta love me first. And I feel like I'm getting back there. the end is in sight, but I've been taking way too many pee breaks, and the toilets are dwindling. I love a good squat in the bushes...but I think maybe I'm not trusting the strength of my bladder. there I go making excuses again...blah blah blah...shut up and do it.

Shove it, fear. I'm gonna sleep with your mom. and call her everyday. and then I'll be your other mom. and we're gonna march for our union to be legal. and we're gonna change the world.

push it. push it real good.

money...

Perfect timing for this little exploration.

Um, I've never known myself to care about money...its never a concern of mine until it poses as an obstacle in the way of what I want.

And they tell you...money isn't everything, you hear tales 3 times over...the tragedy of wealth with no one left to share it with.

Experience, friends, character...those are what make a person wealthy.

Turns out...not so. And furthermore I find myself stuck in a limbo land of having complete and utter respect for money, and people who have earned a nut for themselves...and here I am...in need. And these good, fucking GREAT people are willing to give some to me.

But even I am getting tired of this game...every time I receive a favor, I feel like I'm selling pieces of my soul. And why do I get stuck in these places that need bailing out in the first place?

I work. Yet I dream. I trust the universe to give me exactly what I need exactly when I need it. And I've always been complacent with that. But should I ask for more?

And, right now, feeling a little neglected by the universe...what exactly does that mean? Am I not holding up my end of this cosmic bargain?

In an ongoing effort to capture and keep my inner-child, am I acting childish? Is it childish to do what you love, to fulfill your heart's passion and actively pursue what you know you were solely put on this earth to do?

I look not for material reward for any of my efforts, and I constantly see the world at large...I don't want to say "taking advantage" but, ok...taking advantage of the simple folk.

Ugh...look at me, I set out to explore my thoughts and feelings and I always end up glorifying myself, as if poverty, loneliness were badges of honor...

Obviously I need to change...something. there's never 1 answer...but like 50,000,000 complimentary ones.

Man, life is hard. And I'm really trying to do my best to not be a brat about it. Fuck.

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future...

I do believe I may be sitting across my older self on the subway.

By this I mean, our feet are pretty much the same general shape, hers more aged, our faces have the same features and I imagine would age similarly to hers...and mannerisms quite similar in that alone amidst many gestures as if to assume ppl are watching us, but "we don't care" but we do...obvs.

She's much more elegant in her Bohemian approach than I had ever imagined for myself...and with a man. Which could be a possibility...

Of course all of these comparisons exist only in my head and if I were to snap a picture of this woman, you'd hit me on the basis of being completely wrong. Not in a bad way, she's very pretty...but we look nothing alike.

Funny. Age. How we see ourselves. What do we see in ourselves so clearly that others aren't privy to? Idk...makes sense to me. :/

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workshop...

Wow. I felt my heart again today for the first time since it curled itself into hibernation despite my head's "I'm fine. Whatever."-front.

Took myself on a cheap date. $3.25 dinner at Sweet Spring, $1.25 coffee, and open admit workshop performance at Judson Church by Movement Research. Just my style...discount inspiration. :)

Anyway...the program was 3 segments, and with each, as always, I sit there thinking "alright, what the hell is going on?" Searching for a familiar image or idea to grasp on to for the rest of the ride.

No such luck.

Nonetheless it excited me. I felt butterflies sitting there revelling in the uncertainty...again...since my recent forray into the uncertain. Which turned me out like a pitiful little girl stumbling in her mother's heels.

But also revealing was that I found myself not identifying with the subject of any particular piece, rather the state of the pieces. Their unfinished-ness.

It put a lot of myself in perspective for me. I am a workshop. Awkward at times...hesitant yet confident. Constantly thrusting myself into public forum whether I'm "ready" or not. Sometimes specifically for criticism, but most times just to share myself. And always looking and striving for connection.

Sounds exhilarating and clear in it's complexity. But all my life I think I've wanted to be done. I want to be the neat marble bust on the pedestal ppl swarm and consider because its beauty is so apparent and spoken for. Credited. Undeniable in form as a work of art.

Yes in school I was a notorious end-gainer and idk if I've ever really stopped. Only difference is I'm aware of it.

Anyway all of this to say, ironic that I have specifically chosen to pursue such an enigmatic career. Nothing's ever finished in theater and on top of that...there's no right answer!

I slowly await the demise of my mental health...at which point I really hope to be done.

Let me know how I turn out, will ya?

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A Floridian Crustacean in New York...

I suppose now is as good a time as any to start this epic story...

So I made a rather spontaneous move to the big apple about a week ago after closing a milestone show for me, August: Osage County. Twas the best time on stage I've ever had in my life...cried even, when it ended. That almost never happens.

Anyway...so here I am. Fresh-faced...young-ish. Tossing back and forth the shoulda-coulda-woulda of deciding against taking my card for Speech & Debate. (For those of u who are lost, card- equity card, meaning membership to the actors union...which I'm beginning to suspect might be the tiniest bit...um, essential) but then again, this being my 2nd NY EPA ever...I discourage myself from jumping to such conclusions.

Yeah. That's where I am...165 w. 46th St. Lotsa time to kill...whoooo.

Got into the lounge with my Emc card, but have this nagging feeling like I should have been put in the kiddie room. I don't know how, but I wish there was some spray I could douse myself with to throw off the pungence of my greenness.

I can't help it...like my heart, I tend to wear my circumstances on my sleeve. Shucks.

The monitor seemed to be confused/annoyed by my 2 interactions at the table...I suppose they know what they're doing despite his t-shirt's depiction of him being impaled by a rather jovial mickey mouse. :/

I can feel myself cultivating negative thoughts about this experience, however I am counting on my not-so-easily discouraged nature to get me out of bed and to another 2 tomorrow. I'm riding the sheer novelty of it right now considering I don't have a day job or begun finding one yet.

(...not for lack of want, I have a show in St.Pete in May...)

Alright...I'm gonna go consult the tiny-lady monitor, she seems nice.

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a new leaf...

Ugh. Okay...so I've been putting this off...this blog posting. Not this one specifically but any, really. Because...I feel pressure. Always. Pressure to be insightful or just plain cool. Always.

But you know what? Fuck it. Ha. Fuck. It.

My blogs will now be much shorter and comprised only of single or multiple (if I'm plentifully struck) thoughts I have.

Like how I have arrived insanely early for rehearsal today...famished. so took to sitting in my shitty Toyota Camry some 7 blocks away from the theater (free spot, but nothing's completely free, right?) And I sat, taking to the face the remnants of a bag of tortilla chips and salsa. Not an easy snack to eat on the go. A rather messy one in point of fact.

Anywho...it strikes me. The correlation...the smaller the chips get (I.e. crumbs) the deeper the reach for diminishing salsa. Now while I do have the advantage of tiny extremities...it is still a task.

And in my older age, I've taken to weighing survival much heavier than what would otherwise be accepted social behavior.

So you can imagine my tiny fingas soaked and dripping with medium spiced salsa, congratulating myself on this fully realized example of the "fuck it" principle.

That's all. Oh. And there was a ladybug on my windshield today. Which should be filed in the "stray eyelash", "11:11", "shooting star" good-luck-omen category...I think.

Its not. But it should be. :/

Dammit. Still long...

Fuck it. :)

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