The One about the Career Path.

I've had some people say some pretty prolific things to me as far as my performances go. Like most things, though, there are those few statements that stick out more than others. I'll spare sharing the majority of them with you, but... there's one that I just have to share because it's been on my mind, and it's the whole reason I'm starting today's post.

"You've chosen the right career path, Angela."

I don't know if the person that said this even realized what an impact that short statement made; it was said so quickly and probably not meant to really stick out to me... but it really got the wheels turning in my head.

School is kicking my butt lately. Why? Because I really, really don't like it. This distaste I have for school developed at the beginning of last semester, and it really hasn't gone away. I'm afraid I have "senioritis" in the worst way. It's time to be done. My drive to pay attention in class and be motivated to get things in on time is wearing horribly thin. I want to start real life. I'm so sick of due dates and assignments and attendance and all these things in classes that I can't stand and don't understand. This is where I have negativity in my life - school. I feel like it's in my way right now. I have to get a better attitude about. I just have to keep telling myself: August. SIX months. I can do this; I have to do this. I can't begin my "right career path" until I'm done with school - that's why I'm here at all. To learn and grow and adjust my skills until they are finely tuned (which hopefully will continue until the day I die).

I know I've said it a billion times over, but I feel so fortunate to be playing the role I'm playing in A Tale of Two Cities. It is changing my life. I know that sounds dramatic (and why shouldn't it?), but that is undeniably true. It is changing my passion for performances; it is changing my appreciation for the people and the process; it is changing my friendships; it is making me more motivated. I love thinking that this could just be the beginning for me. I love thinking that, with the right choices and the proper professionalism, I will do things even bigger than this. I will be faced with more opportunities to change; and I get to choose to do it over and over and over again.

Someone came and saw the show last night and said to me after, "How does that feel?" Well, wonderful! I get to let loose - within reason, of course - for three hours every other day (and sometimes nine hours in one day - thank you, school matinees!). It's freeing. I have the best job in the world, and I want to get better and better and better at it.

...

I've always taken good care of my feelings. If something is harming me, 90% of the time I am able to push myself away from unwanted stress and negativity. I protect myself. I realize, however, what I am about to say is putting the vulnerable Angela out there for anyone to see, but I want to say it anyway. As is always the disclaimer, please, please, please understand that this is not meant to come off as negative. Please also know that this is not a pity party. It is merely my thoughts regarding the matter, and nothing more. I am not looking for sympathy of any kind, and I trust that my thoughts will be respected as they usually are by the friends that read this blog.

I know that I stand very independently in the eyes of many people; I know that it is very clear that I can take care of myself; I know that I put off a very "strong" air. My mom raised me right - to be absolutely who I am and to take care of myself. There is nothing wrong with that. I am not saying that I am not independent; I am not saying that I can't take care of myself; I am not saying that I am not strong. I know I am.

That doesn't mean I wouldn't love to depend on someone; that doesn't mean that I don't want someone to take care of me; that doesn't mean that, sometimes, I don't want someone else to be the strong one. Sometimes I feel that, because I have chosen to act and live a certain way, I have made myself seem inaccessible - when in all actuality, my heart is rather open and accessible. Cheesy? Maybe.

I have spent so much time over the last two weeks or so stuck on the things that are missing in my life for my future. I am 24 years old. Over the course of my 24 years, I have had one "serious relationship." Realizing that, I'm going to admit right now, rips a little at my heart. I'm just lonely.

But. I'm not unhappy. Being lonely and unhappy do not have to go hand in hand. I'm choosing that they don't. I'm also choosing to understand that I don't want to settle for just anyone. While I am not making a list of traits I want in a man, I am also not willing to just comply to "comfortable."

I'm a girl; you were bound to hear something about being loved by someone at some point... right?

The weight loss has sort of come to a screeching halt as of late. I am realizing that, while I do eat much better than I used to and I do exercise more than I used to (understand that walking 30 minutes in the morning is more exercise than I used to do), I'm letting the stresses in my life be answered for by justification of "cheating" with food. It's so important to me that I reach my goal. I have a set date in mind, and it's do-able... if I buckle down and do it. I am so anxious to get there.

I've lost a grand total of 41 pounds since September 27, 2010 - a little over five months. I have 9 pounds left to lose until I reach my goal weight, and after that, I'm aiming for another 5 pounds... if my body can handle it. Right now, I'm focusing on that remaining 9 pounds, though.

Really, though, that's the important thing with everything I've talked about - with the weight loss, with school, with performances, with friendships and relationships - taking care of the people I love, taking care of the things I love, taking care of me, and taking care of right now.

The One with the Gratitude List.

"Learn to receive what you cannot provide for yourself." - Unknown

Sometimes things happen at exactly the right time. My mom, brother, sister, and sister-in-law will be here in a week and a half. Sometimes, even though life is good, you just need a big ol' hug from your mom.
A few shameless plugs:
I've mentioned it once before, but I thought with time inching closer to the date, there's no harm in sharing again. On March 17, 2011, there will be a benefit concert at the Historic Murray Theatre at 7:30 PM. The event benefits A Good Grief Foundation raising funds for childrens' headstones. Tickets are $10 online and $15 at the door. The concert will include a line-up of outstanding vocalists and performers. Please come if you have the night free. This event really could change lives. You can purchase tickets here. Please, please come. You won't regret it. (I'm singing, too!)

And of course... you should also go get tickets to see A Tale of Two Cities at the Hale. I know, I know. I'm asking a lot of you. But if you do it, I swear I'll love you forever. Plus, I've said it before, and I'll say it again: never in my life have I been more proud of a production. Truly. I am undeniably thrilled to be a part of something like it.
I thought waiting out the funk might be the best way to get rid of it, but the more I thought of it, the more I realized that's never been the answer to anything - to just wait it out. This blog has blessed me with the opinions of the some of the most tender, openhearted people. Thanks to some sound advice from a sweet friend, I decided it was time to take the next step. I started really mapping out what I was going to do in the course of the next few months. I started looking at places to live; I started looking for job opportunities; I cleaned my room; I dyed my hair; I organized my schoolwork; I went running instead of just walking; I wrote a letter; I sent an important email; I studied just a little harder. Can't you see? I'm going to do whatever it takes to get through this.

I have some sweet friends - friends who don't have to ask questions, friends who just know the right way to listen, friends who don't think I'm overreacting when I get emotional, friends who understand the emotions, friends who just sit and let me cry it out, friends who simply offer a listening ear, friends who let me ramble endlessly until I reach an understanding myself, friends who understand that just because I'm crying doesn't mean I am unhappy with my life. These friendships are few and far between, but they absolutely exist. I forget sometimes, and then I am reminded somehow in the nick of time. And I am then reminded - like something new everyday - how lucky I am to be living the life I lead with the people that are in it.

Which brings me to another thought: without even looking for it, I stumbled upon a quote in the wee hours of the morning that could, quite possibly, be the answer to my week-long questionable funk. Gratitude.

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." - Melody Beattie

Anyone who has read my blog before understands that I don't find it hard to say the things that I am thankful for. It's very easy to sit at a desk and type those words and feel those emotions, but what about actually seeing the things around me that I should have the deepest gratitude for? What about, instead of just talking about them after the fact, feeling them when they happen? What about expressing positivity in the very moment you realize that you are grateful?

I have had a small list of things that I love in the memo application in my cell phone since November. Coming across this list recently has helped me to come up with a challenge for myself this week: list everything that you love and are grateful for in the instant it happens (well, obviously within reason - I can't stop the show to write down every person's name that I'm sharing the stage with, right?). I have friends who literally devote entire blogs to being grateful for things - even tiny, tiny things. What is stopping me from making a mere list?

I realize how cliché and overused this idea may sound. But more importantly, I also realize that this could be the perfect medicine for me right now. And I'm not opposed to doing anything - however coined the idea might be - that heals my little heart.

"He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has." - Epictetus

The One with the Funk Out of Nowhere.

A few posts ago, I shared a publicity photo of A Tale of Two Cities. I also explained in that entry that I looked like I was covered in dirt and had completely let myself go. The picture was toned-down from what you'll actually see in the show... if you come. Which you should. But regardless of if you do or don't, here's a little taste of the show. I am absolutely blown away by these pictures; all of them are courtesy of Douglas Carter/DC Snaps.
If you want to see the rest of them, you can go to this link. There are SO many, and they're all so pretty! (I'm real proud of this show; can you tell?)

I don't know why, but I'm embarrassed to actually put into physical words what I've been thinking about because it feels like there really is no justification to these feelings. And yet I can't shake them.

You have to understand, before I go into further detail, that I have spent the last six months in pure blissful happiness. Little things have happened here and there that have irked my bliss, but nothing in the last half-year has really made me fall off of the tightrope. I've felt unbelievably happy and confident; I've felt nothing holding me back. Until this past week.

We've all heard it before: when it rains, it pours.Welcome to my current, completely unjustified and completely confusing funk, ladies and gentlemen.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not unhappy. I talked about it a bit in my last blog... I'm afraid I may have hit the point where I've become jaded by the happiness I've felt non-stop and suddenly the tiny little hardships I'm facing are hitting me like a ton of bricks.

My confidence is suffering severely because of this funk. I suppose this isn't abnormal for me; that's usually where disaster strikes first - right at the very gut of my self-esteem. I'm allowing myself to dissect and pick apart every look, every word, and every move that the people around me make. I'm allowing my mind to talk my heart out of following through with things. I'm my own worst enemy right now; I hate feeling like I'm taking a step back. I can't let myself do that.

I believe this happiness that I have felt over the past six months has been a preview of what the rest of my life is going to be like. I know that I'm going to hit bumps... and certainly bumps that are much bigger than this one. This is a trial period (real life, too), I feel, for my future. I am going to have to learn how to deal with these little bumps right now so that I can continue to live the life I know that I want to live.

I believe that we are given challenges and trials in our lives that we must choose to pursue or just to let go of and walk away from. I know that, with hard work, I will get what I want. I know that I am the only person that can get me to where I want to go. Scary as that may be, it's also very liberating. I can't rely on anyone else to make decisions for me; I can't depend on the words - positive or negative - of the people around me to determine what I'm feeling or who I am. That's what all of this comes down to - independence.

I'm the only person that can get through this. I have to be grateful for that.

The One with Gold and Dirt.

I have a pair of pants that I bought back in October that cost me $10 at Old Navy. They're dark wash stretch skinny jeans that I looked at in the store on (yes, I remember) October 9th and said, "These are my goal pants." They are a pair of size 2 jeans.

As I've mentioned before, besides watching the actual poundage decrease on the scale, watching my pants size go down number-by-number has been an extra little excitement in my weight loss journey.

Yesterday in the dressing room, I bragged. Why? Because I squeezed my body into those jeans yesterday morning and buttoned them comfortably. (Yes, they're stretch jeans, and I'm also sure that not every size 2 pair of pants I try on will fit.) In the dressing room, I said, "These are goal pants!" A few of the girls thought I said "gold pants," and while they aren't really gold, I felt like that title fit rather appropriately.
Goal. Gold. I like it.

...

Friendships come and go. It's just a fact of life. Some friendships last longer than others. Some friendships last forever. Some friendships go in order to allow personal growth. Some friendships go because of a disagreement. Some friendships go in order for us to learn something.

And then there are those few friendships that come and go... and then come back again. Those friendships take special care, special attention, and in the long run, they mean so much more. While the initial loss of the friendship in the first place does tug terribly at our heartstrings, it is the opportunity to rebuild it that really matters. Reconciliation and understanding and... well... time can be incredible tools in any situation. How lucky we are to have those tools right in front of us to use.

...

Almost every Tuesday and Thursday morning I work in the office at 8:00-11:00 AM. I have a confession: I love sleeping so much that (on these mornings especially) I sleep until the last possible second... which means I don't shower until my break at 11:00 AM.

But maybe it's time to reconsider that whole not showering on Tuesday and Thursday mornings thing. Why? Well... today, as I started to sort my thoughts on what to blog, I looked down at my hands and noticed something a little out of the ordinary... little dark splotches here and there.

Don't worry; I haven't come down with a skin condition. No. I'd merely left traces of stage dirt on my hands from last night's performance. I even pulled up my sleeves of my sweater to realize that I not only had it on my hands, but it was all the way up my arms, too.
And I am, of course, reminded of the performance last night. And, of course, as usual, I have to go all philosophical on the dirt and the importance of it.

Things happen in our lives - no matter how sweet things may be at a given time - that throw us for a loop. The past few days have been my roller coaster. The truth is, my life has been so peachy lately that maybe I've become a bit jaded. Overindulged in the good stuff.

I've been side-swiped by the tiniest dilemma recently, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't let it affect me. I'm sort of amazed at how out-of-body this has felt; I feel like I'm a bystander watching myself experience it. And I have felt a bit helpless... I arrived at the theatre last night willing to push everything aside for the performance. However, I've never really been known for my being able to hide how I feel... so after recognizing that things were a little out of sorts for me, a dear friend said, "Use it." He didn't ask questions about what was wrong; he didn't need to. He just said the right thing.

So I let myself cry it out. Onstage. (Now, please understand that I was completely in character during my performance, and I did not allow my emotions to take the performance past what I've been directed to do. I can control myself in those regards.) I had this opportunity and was allowed to feel absolutely as deeply as I wanted. I wasn't a blubbering mess, and I would say only about five tears actually fell. But when I finished my performance last night and I changed out of my costume and back into my street clothes (and forgot to clean off the dirt on my arms and hands, apparently), I felt so at peace. All I needed was a place to put that energy.

I'm an advocate of "leave your problems at the door," trust me... and maybe I didn't do that yesterday. But being able to pour it into an evening's performance rid me of that anxiety that had built up. I would've been a fool not to have used it as an outlet.

I get to rub fake dirt on my hands and arms and neck and face every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night and Saturday morning. I get to be the villain. I get to act absolutely nuts for three hours in front of a full audience of people. I get to sing my little heart out. I get to share a stage with, really and truly, some of the nicest, most talented, most tender and most humble people I've ever known.
Leave it up to Miss Sentimental USA to let splotchy hands make her emotional. What can I say? When I look down at those splotchy, fake dirt-covered hands, it's really hard to forget how cool my life really is.

The One on Valentine's Day.

You know, even when almost everything in your life is near or completely perfect, some days can still suck. I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself today. This doesn't happen a lot to me anymore, so I'm doing my best to push feeling like crap aside and just get on with the day. There really isn't much I can complain about; like I said, things are practically perfect.

There's just one thing: Valentine's Day. I've never been into it. I've never liked it. I've always thought it's ridiculously overrated. And it makes me feel sorry for myself, apparently. It's easy for people with a Valentine to love Valentine's Day, isn't it? And I suppose that's the only reason I don't like it. Because I don't have a Valentine. It's not bitterness; it's just... bummed-outedness. This all sounds horribly whiny, I know. And give it a couple of hours, I'm sure I'll forget it even is Valentine's Day.

I've decided, though, to turn this into a positive post and, in lieu of Valentine's Day, elaborate on something that I do hold very near and dear to my heart.

Do you know about the Five Love Languages? I studied it very thoroughly at BYU-Idaho in 2007 in my Interpersonal Communication class and eventually wrote a lengthy essay about the theories and the history of it.

It's a fascinating break-down of the human heart and how different each and every one of us are. Of the countless ways we can show love to one another, there are five key categories, or five love languages, proved to be universal and comprehensive - everyone has a love language. And we all identify with one of them: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch.

With my fascination and study of this "theory" comes an understanding of where most people stand in their language. I'm able to observe those I am close to and know, more often than not, what love language they speak.

When I was at BYU-Idaho, I took the Love Language Assessment in my Interpersonal Communication class. I remember my results sitting very evenly on Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts, and Physical Touch. Quality Time and Words of Affirmation had the fewest points. I knew that had changed very drastically in the last four years, so I went ahead and took the assessment again today. Not only had they changed, but two of those previous top three languages from 2007 were almost non-existent in my results. Instead, Words of Affirmation (12 points) took the cake, with Quality Time (10 points) falling right behind; Physical Touch, 5 points; Acts of Service, 3 points; and Receiving Gifts, 0 points. I had a feeling Words of Affirmation and Quality Time would be up there, but I didn't imagine that it would blow the rest of them out of the water.

It's amazing to me that people can change that much in a matter of years. I'd like to take it again in another four of five years and see if anything has changed. I encourage everyone to go find out what their Love Language is. It's actually really good for you, because it all kind of makes sense after you do take it. Stepping back and observing your day-to-day life with that language in mind actually offers a lot of insight into feelings and reactions to situations.

I get to look really, REALLY gross in A Tale of Two Cities. I think this even trumps Urinetown. Picture this: ten-plus years from now, I've let myself go COMPLETELY and I roll around in dirt sometimes. Here's a little taste, but this is a super toned-down version:
We were able to do our first dress rehearsal on Saturday, and I was actually really surprised at how free I felt. With the costume and character and the set and props and lights combined, I feel unlimited. I get to make whatever gross faces I want; I don't have to sing every note absolutely beautifully; and I get to portray one of the greatest literary villains of all time. Pretty empowering. (Now, have you gotten your tickets yet?) I am sooooooooo anxious to see how audiences react to the show as a whole. I really do think it's going to blow people's minds. Everything about it: the cast, the direction, the set, the costumes, the music, the STORY. I cannot wait.

I've started a 10-Pound Challenge with friends in the cast. I love having something like that to kick me in the butt to get me going. However, I ate lots of goodies this weekend, so any progress I thought I'd made last week is pretty much null and void. I still have 10 to go. This week, I've decided, will be perfect. No goodies, no extra snacks, working out extra when there's time. Because if I'm going to talk about finishing this, I need to finish it. I want to finish it. And I will finish it. I will get there.

And when I get there, I'll start a new journey... one that I can't even guess right now. Knowing that more adventures like this one are around the corner is an absolutely liberating feeling and, quite possibly, the best feeling in the world.

The One about Little Lucy.

I am addicted to A Tale of Two Cities. The show opens in six days, and I cannot believe it. Over the course of the last three days or so, it has already started to really mold itself into the show that I pictured. Now that we have the (BEAUTIFUL/EPIC) performance orchestrations, stage time, and bits and pieces of the (REMARKABLE) set, I find myself getting more and more excited everyday.
I can't put into words the emotion I feel for this character. In fact, there have been a number of times during my performance where I've let my emotions outweigh my musicality. Truthfully, that's never happened onstage before. I'm always very aware of the way that my voice sounds - I don't let myself get away with sounding imperfect. With this role, though, the important thing is to portray the feelings of this woman. It's amazing to not have to sound "pretty" all the time. Do I still want it to be perfect? Absolutely. Sometimes it's really difficult to get out of your own way.

I am blown away by the talent in this production. The technical spectacles will be enough to make people "ooh" and "ahh" when they walk into the space, but the talent will floor people when the piece begins; I have total confidence in that. I have more faith in this than just about any show I've ever been in. It makes me so proud.

I think about three months ago when I was dying to be in this show and I was dying to play this role. Now we're six days away from opening it, and I feel like the luckiest little performer in the world. I know it's not the biggest thing to happen to a person, but this opportunity and the feelings that accompany it may top the list of anything I've ever done thus far. I feel so ridiculously lucky.

All of that being said, I think it would be in your best interest click on this link and get tickets to come see the show. If you don't want to purchase them online, you can call the box office at (801) 984-9000. I, along with my crazy-talented friends and fellow actors, am performing in the Monday/Wednesday/Friday shows at 7:30 PM and on Saturdays at the 12:30 PM matinee. It plays February 16th through April 9th.

With tech week in full force, I have had the most jumbled of thoughts. Things have been absolutely nuts as far as scheduling goes, and I haven't really been as ahead of the game as I would like. My sleep has suffered severely... thanks to my bad habit of procrastination.

The good news is, I'm still able to make progress with my weight loss. It's not moving as much - which is expected when you're approaching closer and closer to your goal - but what matters is that it is moving along. I have grown very fond of Monday mornings. I know that's not typically what is said; Mondays are usually the most dreaded day of the week. For me, though, Monday means weighing in. I have been fortunate enough to see results (even if it's only losing 0.2 pounds) every week but one since I started this journey. It's become a little extra thing to be able to wake up Monday mornings and give myself a little pep-talk. This past Monday morning, I got off the scale with a tiny squeal and said, "You're so close!" I'm crossing my fingers to hit my goal by mid-March.

A little over three years ago, I did my first performance in Utah. It was at the Egyptian Theatre in Park City, and it was the musical version of Peter Pan. I was cast as Mrs. Darling and one of Tiger Lily's Indians. Of course like every show, I had no idea what to expect from it. I just had heard that the theatre was a good start in the professional realm of Utah theatre, so I was going to take full advantage of it.
I had a lot of fun during this show. I learned a lot of patience working with so many little ones. I learned and worked on my weaknesses as an actress (my character - aside from the very beginning of the lullaby and aside from group numbers as an Indian - hardly sang a single note). I laughed so much, and I even cried a little, too (I know - surprise, surprise). Remember when I talked about the life lessons I'm able to learn with each show I am a part of? This show was, of course, no exception.

But the best thing I walked away with was a friendship: I knew the minute I met Molly Jackson that there was something sparkly about her. I was amazed at her solid personality, her confidence, and her honest-to-goodness yearning to get to know those around her. So I clung to her as much as I could. I realized, as I did get to know her, that she was truly one of the most loving people I'd ever met. I've talked about her blog before, but I don't think I've ever shared her story. Below is a short documentary that BYUtv did about her sweet little family (you're going to want to turn up your volume and pause the music player at the bottom of the page):


I had gotten to know little Lucy during the run of Peter Pan when Molly would bring her by rehearsals. People were drawn to her just like they were to her mom. I remember hearing the sweetest little giggles and squeals of excitement all from Lucy during the dress rehearsals, run-throughs and performances. The days that surrounded the accident and tragedy seem somewhat of a blur. Except for her funeral... where I experienced the most spiritual and quiet moment of my entire life. That is why I did Peter Pan - so I could meet Molly and Lucy.

Molly has remained a part of my life. We don't see each other nearly as often as we should - probably once or twice a year, but I still feel very strongly connected to her. I could talk to her for hours on end about anything and everything; she is a mentor in many respects, a supporter, and she doesn't blow smoke. Also, she's the hippest mom ever.

I bring all of this up for two reasons. One, it's her birthday today. And I'm obsessed with birthdays, remember? I could go on and on about her. I wish everyone could meet her and get to know her. The second reason I bring it up is because of an event next month that she has put together called "Days of Plenty."
Molly has formed a foundation (the one that's talked about in the video) to help families pay for the headstones of children who have passed. It is a beautiful foundation and one that should remain in full force for a long, long time. Molly has been kind enough to allow me to perform at this concert, and I am so honored to do so. I would love to see my friends there. This benefit concert's proceeds will go towards Headstones for Hope/A Good Grief. And it's only $10. Mark your calendars, would you? March 17th at 7:30 PM at the Historic Murray Theatre. I'm not afraid to say that hearing the songs and stories will change lives. I truly believe that.

The One with the BFF's Birthday, 2010.

For as long as I can remember, it has been important to me to make my loved ones' birthdays big deals every time they roll around. I don't know where this little obsession came from, to be completely honest. I'm convinced that one year someone made a big deal of my birthday, and I realized how special it made me feel; I suppose I just wanted to pass it on, always.

I truly believe that birthdays should not be ignored. Ever. I think that they are the one day, the one excuse to get away with expressing love for the people you care most about. I'm not about to pass up that opportunity today.

My darling best friend's birthday is today. What a joy it has been to know him and watch him grow into a more wonderful person with each and every experience. I feel so lucky that he's kept me around for this long. He is absolutely incredible in every way, and I recognize that each day. I find such joy in knowing I can hold onto this sweet friendship for a long time. I have the greatest pride in my heart because I have found the ultimate best friend.

I have laughed more with him than with anyone; I have cried more with (/in front of) him than I have with anyone. I have joked more. I have talked more. I have worked more. I have played more.

I lucked out.
So, if you see him today, don't forget to tell him "happy birthday" and, more importantly, how much you love him. He deserves to hear it.