The One with the Master Class.

Get comfy. This is a long one, folks.

Time for a story: months ago, I signed up for an email subscription to get updates on auditions in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. I don't really even remember doing it, honestly, but I imagine my thoughts when I signed up were that if something came up worth coming back to Texas for, I would take the opportunity in order to see my family and expand my venue repertoire at the same time.

Then, early last month, I was skimming over one of these said emails and I saw this:
GOT TALENT! Ennis Public Theatre (NON EQUITY)
Acts chosen must be available for 5 performances: October 4,5,6,12,13.
Winner: $1000
Runner up: $300

This was the perfect timing and opportunity to make a trip home to see my new niece. I contacted the theatre, sent a video audition and was invited to participate in the competition.

So, here I sit... in good ol' Ennis. I've been here for a week; I am loving the time I am spending in my pajamas with no bra on. I am loving the time off from work. I am loving spending time with my family. I am loving, most of all, snuggling my sweet niece who is the cutest little nugget-of-a-baby I have ever seen (no biases exist at all whatsoever in that statement, of course).

There are two more nights of the competition, this coming Friday and Saturday at 7:30 at the Ennis Public Theatre. If you're in or around the area, please come see the show. The performer with the most votes wins. And I'm not too proud to say that $1,000 would really help out a girl heading to the big city in a big, big way.

For reasons I can't exactly pinpoint, after I go out to see a major production, I'm always drawn to blog. Last Christmas when I was home, my mom took my sister and I to see the 25th anniversary touring company of Les Miserables. All the way home I was thinking about blogging. By the time I got home, I was too tired to sit down and do it. And then I never did get around to it.

Last night, I went to the Music Hall at Fair Park to see the national tour of The Addams Family. To tell you the truth, the material itself wasn't my favorite. Anyone who is a performer knows that it is sometimes difficult to sit and watch a show without critiquing, questioning, stealing ideas, noticing tricks, or even cringing deep down when something seems a bit wonky or awkward with a performer or moment on the stage. While I did enjoy the show last night - I even went by myself to see it - it was no exception to this critical thinking. I found myself drawn to certain performers more than others, like Douglas Sills as Gomez, Gaelen Gilliland as Alice Beineke, and Courtney Wolfson as Wednesday. 

Of course, this always happens. But why? What is it about him or her that makes him or her more alluring than anyone else onstage? Why am I, as a performer, completely engrossed in these performances? What can I do to be that captivating? And lastly, it was so clear that these performers were connected to these characters... what could I do to be that connected and therefore love my craft even more?

I was asking all of these questions and more as I watched. It was even strange to me that I was having this deep of an internal monologue regarding these performers. Why the overload all of a sudden?

And then it hit me. Duh.

I'd read an article in August that said that Natalie Toro would be performing at Salt Lake City's Pioneer Theatre in its production of In the Heights. She would be reprising the role of Camila after having played it in the 2009 national tour. I knew of Natalie Toro from another production, as most people would probably recognize her who know the show: Natalie Toro originated the role of Madame Defarge in A Tale of Two Cities on Broadway. (And if you don't know the show, you should.) 

I've admired her performances since I came across a YouTube video of her singing "Out of Sight, Out of Mind." I studied her portrayal of Madame Defarge from the cast album to the PBS concert DVD. I purchased her solo album. So, when I read that article in August about In the Heights, I knew that I would have to go see it so that I could finally admire her work live and in-person.

Then another email popped up in my inbox, and in many others' as well: an email from Hale Centre Theatre with a forwarded email from Natalie, announcing that she was offering a Master Class. I immediately reserved a spot in the class, excited to hear from someone who had been around the block several times.

I had a close friend in In the Heights who was nice enough to give me tickets to see the final dress rehearsal preview of the show. I loved the show. Its high energy was contagious, and the storytelling absolutely beautiful. And I remember very clearly thinking, as I watched Natalie perform, that she was going to teach me so much in her class. Her performance, alone, said that to me.

I met her after the show, and her personality struck me by surprise. I was almost shocked that she was so genuine and so open and kind. She didn't have to be that nice to me or make me feel that special and important. But I walked away so grateful that she had. I love when people exceed my expectations. I've always striven for that in people's expectations of me.

When the master class rolled around at the end of September, just five days before 9 to 5 closed, I was nervous and excited. I literally had no idea what the four-hour class would entail.

I soon learned that Natalie Toro is not only an outstanding performer, but an incredible teacher, too. She has oodles of knowledge in that brain of hers, and she is sharing that so selflessly in these master classes. (You can read the details - in her words - of the workshop here.)

The class was small - about 15 people. It was about acting the song, connecting personally to the material you are singing. In the second part of the class, Natalie did one-on-one work with each person who brought a song to work on. Without giving too many details or sounding too pretentious, I want to give words to describe the experience: it shook me, stirred my soul, and downright opened my heart. 

She had shown me the power in using the experiences I have had and will have in my real life and applying those experiences, with extreme specificity, to every.single.word in every.single.song I sing. It was really a beautiful learning experience and it came from someone with success in her belt, yes, but a solid heart and true passion for her craft.

At one point during the class, shortly after I had gotten up to sing, I raised my hand as a sort of epiphany struck. I said, "I can't wait to apply what I have learned in this class to the four performances of 9 to 5 that I have left this week."

Ever since that class, I have utilized the mental and emotional tools I learned there in the songs I sing. I have applied them in the best way I know how. And, yes, in the event that I am watching a show like The Addams Family, I am thinking about the application of those tools. It was so positive, so important, so special and humbling. I am passionate about the experience, and there's no shame in that.

And even as I sit here and type this, I am shaking my head... because I can still go on and on about it, even two and a half weeks later. I am shaking my head because I am amazed that I am still learning and amazed that I can continue to learn from so many people for the rest of my life.

The One with Some of the Plans.

It's been almost a month since I posted last. I really should learn to be a bit better about this. I think about blogging often. I think I feel like I have to really set aside a good two hours to get a good entry in, so unless that time is available and I feel up to using the brainpower to make it happen, I just don't make it happen.

But tonight, I do. It's 12:30 AM on September 8th. My sleep schedule has gone completely awry for a number of reasons, and I'm feeling wide awake, so I'm going to use my time wisely and share my thoughts with the world wide web and the few friends who read this old thing.

9 to 5 has been open for three and a half weeks now. There are three and a half weeks left in the run. And I am utterly and completely in love with every minute of this show. I know, it's nothing new, right? I'm sure I sound like a broken record with each role I get to play lately.

But this one... this one is different. This is the most rewarding role I have on my resumé. Because of the difficulty in finding who Judy is, because of the uneasiness I had in the rehearsal process, because of the discouraging moments, because of the moments of defeat... because I have finally found Judy and continue to find new things for her to do and about her, because I'm no longer uneasy and instead just giddy and nervous, because I'm encouraged by each moment, because I feel like I have figured things out, because the cast is so amazing... because of all of these things, the pay-off in performing the show for audiences has been unequivocally the most valuable opportunity I have had.

While I was talking to a friend last night, who I said these things to, she mentioned that she noticed that because I put so much of my heart into each show, I almost always feel like the current show I'm in is the top. And maybe that's the truth. If it is, and she said the same thing, I hope the next one I do takes the cake and on and on and on until the day I die.

Proud. That's probably the best word I can use to sum up this show. It's not perfect; the writing is interesting in some parts, the plot is mild, I'm not always pitch-perfect, I have forgotten a line here and there. But I am proud of it all. I am the most proud of the work I have done in this show. I am the most proud of the chemistry I share with the other two female leads in this show. I am the most proud to present this show for my friends, co-workers, and family. I am blown away by how much fun it is, and how, while it is consistent, it is never the same. It keeps me on my toes and, in many ways, keeps my head in the clouds.

I'm grateful for that, though. The part about it keeping my head in the clouds. Because on my days when I'm not doing the show, I have to keep my feet on the ground while I prepare myself mentally for what's happening in approximately nine months.

Don't worry, I'm not having a baby. (But speaking of, my little sister DID have a baby: meet Everleigh Lynn!)

New York. The plan, only fairly tentative, is to leave next June. In nine short months. By then, I plan on having enough saved up to allow me to live comfortably enough before I find a job or jobs. I have been reading books and doing endless research about playhouses in the city and its surrounding areas, and I'll be honest, I have found myself more recently becoming a bit discouraged.

As addressed in a previous post, I am lacking in dancing abilities. I will be taking some classes over the next few months, but the abilities aren't a natural part of me. It's frustrating and scary to read in practically every audition posting, "please wear dance shoes" or "be prepared to dance." When I come across things like that, I automatically see instead, "turn back now" or "run far, far away."

The thought even crossed my mind recently that I maybe shouldn't go because I am so horribly terrified of that aspect of "trying to make it." But then the sound advice of a mentor and friend resonated loud and clear in my head. She said, "If you go and try, you'll never regret it. If you don't go and try, you always will."

This whole post could really just be viewed as my own personal pep talk. And today, that's okay. I'd rather be lifted up than bring myself down; wouldn't you?

So... dancer or not, I will try. I am not giving myself a time limit; I'm just going to work as long and hard as I can. If I try and fail, at least I will have tried and tried my damnedest.

But honestly, when I think of it, all I can do is imagine myself succeeding. It's been the one sure thing I've known my whole life; this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, and I will work my tail off to make it so. There is a reason why I feel as deeply as I do for this art form. There is a reason why I ache for it. There is a reason why I love it this much. I know it's so I can get out there and just do it.

The One with the Discoveries.

I'm no quitter.

But sometimes I am a horrible procrastinator. Sometimes I'm the most tired and the laziest person I know. Sometimes I'm horribly busy. Sometimes I'm the most confused and the most at a loss for the right words.

And I suppose everything in those last few statements would explain my three-and-a-half-month hiatus.

I really wish I had taken the time in the last quarter-year to record what has happened to me... because it has certainly been a lot. I don't know where to even begin to share it. The truth is, if I don't come back to this now, I'm afraid I will feel so behind in sharing that I will just give it up altogether. And writing here has been too much of a blessing in my life to just brush it aside.

I remember having a job sitting at a desk and a computer for eight hours a day and being able to just write. It was nice and easy, I'm not going to lie to you. The job I have now, as I had explained a few posts back, keeps me going non-stop. I slap on a smile and stand on my feet for almost all eight hours. I don't play when I'm at work, and I have no "free time" there, either. It's hard and tedious and time-consuming. It's the part of my life that I'm not thrilled with. A job is a job is a job, right?

Sort of.

I have a second job, see, where I work my tail off. At times, it's even more difficult than working at a hotel front desk. At times, it's even more time-consuming.

Before I get too far ahead of myself, let me recap the last few months. I'll somehow be able to bring it full circle.

Remember my last post about my dating/not dating? I must've just made myself more aware of that fact after I wrote that entry, because I started making myself more available. 

I dated a boy that I really started to fall for. I spent so much time with him that I imagined it even going somewhere. I wanted to move slowly. I wanted to, perhaps selfishly, take it at my pace. He took matters into his own hands, however, and I fell out of control. I freaked out and got out of the situation. Shortly thereafter, I started seeing another boy: fun dating and then too quickly the word "serious" became a part of the mix. Again, I freaked out and got out of the situation.  

I started to wonder what was wrong with me after Boy #2. I began to rehash my past relationships. Aside from "the big one" when I was 18 years old, things seemed a little strange. In 2008, when I first moved to Ogden, I dated a boy at work. He was a little cooky and had some serious baggage, but he really, really liked me. And I liked him for a little while, too. Until he started getting clingy and wanting to make things "official." So... I freaked out and got out of the situation.

Back in 2008 and 2009, I dated a boy off and on. My initial reason for starting to date him wasn't horribly honorable, I'm sad to say, but as time went on and as we spent more and more time together, I realized I enjoyed his company very much. But I never wanted anything to get "serious." I avoided the subject for the most part and just called it "casual dating." At one point, after a long time of our casual dating, he started to use the scary words with me: 

love, 

serious, 

and even marriage.

What did I do? I freaked out and got out of the situation. Now, of course, there were other things that came into play that made me get away from that relationship, but that's where things started to get rocky anyway.

After analyzing these encounters and Boy #1 and Boy #2 over the last three months, I realized something: I like being by myself right now. Maybe it's juvenile and silly, but I have so much that I still want to do with just me, just Angela. I have so many places that I want to go and goals that I want to reach before I settle down or imagine it or even talk about it. Next summer, I want to pick up and go. Is that selfish? I'm sorry if it is or seems that way. I fully intend on loving people more and more deeply with time; I just am in NO HURRY to find that "one." I rather like getting to know Angela Jeffries; I rather like making her a better friend, a better performer, and a better person.

So, for now that's what I'm doing.

Somewhere in that mess, I decided to do Dirty Rotten Scoundrels again at a theatre that two of my friends had bought and opened. It was The Ziegfeld Theater's very first production, and it was interesting and exciting to be a part of. I have to admit that I've never really experienced anything quite like that: the theatre was literally being ripped apart and put back together while we were rehearsing. It took focus and patience, and in the end, I was really very proud of the little show we'd done. I enjoyed bringing the character of Christine Colgate back to life, too. I made some friends and bonded some existing friendships even tighter. That show is just joyous. I think that's the best word I can pin to it.

And then, auditions for the show I've been waiting for all year long rolled around: 9 to 5. I knew what role I wanted to play, I knew the music, I'd read and re-read the script, I watched the original movie over and over, and I even snagged a copy of the bootleg of the Broadway show. I was ready for those auditions and, I thought, ready for the role.

I was so thrilled to be cast as Judy Bernly in 9 to 5. I thought I was ready and that it would be a piece of cake. I thought, this is the character who is the most like me, so she'll be easy-peasy.

I've said things similar to this statement before, and I'm sure I'll say something similar to it again, but this statement trumps all previous like statements: this is the most difficult role I have ever played.

More difficult than Christine, the dingbat con in Dirty Rotten; more difficult than Madame Defarge, the bitter villain in Tale; more difficult than the heartbroken mother of three in Sleepy Hollow; more difficult than the 40-year-old wife from the 1950's in Five Carols; more difficult than Annie Oakley or The Narrator or The Witch or Dorothy...

... you get my drift. Playing this character ain't no piece of cake.

Forgive me while I nerd out here, but that's a lot like who she is in the show. 

Upon first glance, she's simple and quiet and a cookie-cutter kind of girl. But as time goes on, just as the rehearsal process proved, we see that she is complex and deep and hurt and glorious and beautiful and strong and imperfect and recovering and powerful and empowering.

I don't want this to sound cocky: things come easily for me when it comes to acting and singing. Going into the rehearsal process, and often even auditions, I know how I want to portray a character. Of course I develop as the process goes on, but I usually have a pretty good idea of how I want her, whoever she may be, to be played.

I have struggled with Judy Bernly. However, it wasn't until the last little while that I realized why this wasn't easy for me. There are several reasons: one being that I simply want to do her justice. This is probably the most realistic character I have ever played in my ten years of doing shows. I know people who have been through what she's been through. I want to be real with her, all while entertaining the masses.

The biggest reason that she is such a tough part to tackle is because of the blunt fact that she is a lot like me. No, I'm not going through a divorce because my husband cheated on me. But emotionally, she and I are a lot alike. Insecure, scared, sometimes a little cooky, a bit of a pushover at times, passive aggressive, seeking praise and adoration. 

You're probably saying, "Wait, Angela, wouldn't that make it easier to play her?" No, surprisingly.

Forgive the cliche: I like playing different people. I like going so extreme and being so different from who I am that I get to escape from reality for a little while... not that life is so hard that I need the escape. I do have some emotional turmoil that I try to avoid often, and that's the escape. When I relate to a character, I make it personal. I find it's almost too easy to cry in this role when I need to for a certain scene. I also find that the song that I sing at the end of the show is so poignantly relevant to some feelings I have in my own life that I almost don't make it through it. It's an emotional ride that is so close to home.

No one likes it when things don't come easily to him or her. I wanted Judy to be that piece of cake I thought she would be. She's not, though, and I truly believe I will be working on perfecting her until the very last bow at the end of September. Isn't that amazing?

When I say that, I find that I am filled with an overwhelming feeling of excitement and thankfulness. I spend my days at a job that is tedious and the same thing over and over again. While it's not always easy, my nights, on the other hand, are spent in a sweet little haven with sweet people, where I get to experiment with new ideas - some bad, some good - and grow constantly. It is a "job" for the mere fact that I am getting paid to do it, but really... what's it called? A play.

I play.

The One where Nothing is Wrong.

Fact: I don't like blogging when I'm in a funk. True, I have done it several times before, and I have learned that while it does give me a little lighter perspective on things, I still feel like a whining ninny. And no one likes a whining ninny.

So I'm going to try to approach and express my thoughts in a very adult-like manner, in hopes that I will - as is always the case - find some sense of resolve deep down.

This will be a very upfront post, I'm warning you now. This topic is something that I avoid more often than not, mostly because it really is a mystery to me. I've blogged along the lines before (a year ago, in fact) and maybe it's time to do it again, because I obviously haven't worked out the kinks in understanding it just yet.

Let's take a look at my past. I'm almost 26 years old. I've had one relationship that I consider serious, and that was when I was 17 and 18 years old. There have been a handful of guys that I've kissed, that I've hung around for a week or so and then watched as things fizzled off into nothing. Most of it hasn't really meant anything, to me or to the male side of the party, sadly. I've had crushes, but the feelings aren't reciprocated, so naturally those don't go anywhere. This whole thing is really starting to give me a complex.

For the past little while, a terrible question has been weighing on my mind, one that really hasn't haunted me for a long time: what is wrong with me? As I typed that, tears brimmed my eyes. That's the first time the question has really come out in any physical form.

If you had asked me two years ago why I don't date, why I get so little attention from men, I would have told you that my self-esteem was too low, that I didn't love myself, that I was overweight, that I was ugly, and on and on.

But today, I sit here loving myself for who I have become, with healthy self-esteem (except for today, maybe), slender, and yes, even pretty. I'm a smart girl, I'm passionate, I'm happy, uncomplicated, well-groomed, put-together, ambitious; I take care of myself physically and emotionally; I'm not horribly clingy or overly needy, and I know what I want in my life; sometimes, I'm even quirky, spunky, and funny.

Before someone grabs a pin to pop the growing head in the room, I'll ask the question again: what on Earth is wrong with little ol' me?

...

Did you know that these posts sometimes take up to four hours for me to write? I started this in a text document at 10:00 this morning and finished that section above by 11:15. It is now 12:42. Less than 500 words in almost three hours.

My point of telling you that is this: I've sat here contemplating what I could say to make this all better. I suppose I've decided that it comes down to a few things.

1) I don't really "go out." I have friends that I spend time with, but I don't really go out to meet new people. The idea of finding a "hot spot" to "hang out" is not appealing to me. I want him to just fall right into my lap. I also don't flirt; I'm not sure I even know HOW.

2) I have high expectations. My sister said to me once, in a light-hearted conversation about this post's topic, "You won't just have anybody. He has to be a winner." Of course everyone wants a "winner," but I realize that I am expecting instant connection, love at first sight, and years of bonding made in mere moments.

3) The business I am in. I connect with many men everyday in theatre, but it's a fact that the picking pool isn't in my favor in regards to the majority's sexual orientation. I am not condemning it in the least bit, just stating the fact.

4) I am 25 years old. In the online UK news website, The Telegraph, I found an article: Average age for women to marry hits 30 for first time. I live in Utah, where the median age for women to marry is 21.9 years old. In almost half of the United States, it's "normal" to marry 25-plus, and in New York, it's "normal" for women to marry at 27.

Finally and most importantly...

5) There is nothing wrong with me. My self-worth isn't measured in how many dates I go on or how long a relationship is. It is measured by my character, my ethics and morals, how I treat people, how happy I choose to be, how hard I work, how much I smile and laugh and even cry, how patient and honest I am and choose to be, and how much I love my life and love the people in it.

When I was little, my mom used to say, "No one can make you do anything." And while I do agree with that statement, I also feel that things and people can certainly influence our feelings and choices. Something in my life is influencing me to feel inferior, to feel like something is wrong with me, to feel like I couldn't possibly find love.

It's my job to stop allowing that something to influence me in such a strong way, and even to weed it out and get rid of it. It's my job to keep loving my life and the skin I live in. It's my job to just be a good person. What matters most, what's most important, is how you see yourself.

The One on Easter.

It's not normal for me to write about religious things on here, no. I like to avoid too much expression of spiritual and political opinions in order to avoid debate. I know where I stand on matters, and that is what is important. But I couldn't help sharing this.

Remember in my last post when I talked about the benefit concert that I was so blessed to be a part of? This video is of some of the children being remembered at that concert.

I feel like it's more than appropriate to be sharing this today, on Easter, because even through such heartbreak as a family losing a loved one, we can be strengthened. Days like today remind us of the immense love that our Heavenly Father has for us through the birth, death, and resurrection of His son. (Even my sweet nephew can be seen in this video, around 2:27.)

The One Where I Come Back from the Dead.

Before I get into anything too finicky to chew on, I wanted to share a little something with you. I should've logged on and blogged about it before the actual event occurred, but I suppose late is better than never.
Last Thursday night, I was very honored to sing at the second annual A Good Grief Benefit Concert. I've talked about her before, but I just can't say enough. My friend, Molly, founded A Good Grief Foundation and has headed the concert the last two years. She is an incredible woman who has endured so much with such grace and strength. It was an evening that, much like last year's, was entertaining yet spiritual. The proceeds went directly to help pay for the cost of headstones for families burdened with the emotional and financial weight of losing a child. I imagine the event will continue for years to come, so if you are around, take the night off to go. I promise it's an evening you will remember. And if I'm a part of it next year, I'll be sure to remember to post about it on here.

Now then...

I'm a little sad with myself that it's taken me more than a month and a half to post again. It's been an interesting little while, to say the least. Truthfully, I haven't had much to say... or rather, I haven't felt like what I've had to say is worth putting into cyberspace.

But maybe today, I can muster up the words - and courage, even - to say what's on my mind. Prepare yourselves, this is sure to be a long one.

I work 40 hours a week. Aside from spending time with my sister and friends, that's pretty much it... so what's the excuse for the lack of bloggage, Angela? Much like my first post in February, my brain and emotions have been a bit lucid, a bit flighty and disconnected. I don't like it. I hate to admit that my mind is in its best shape when I am rehearsing for or performing in a show. And it's been more than three months since my last show closed. I'm dying to be a part of something that excites me again.

Life isn't hard right now; I live a happy life; my job treats me well; my family is sweet, and my friends are, too. I'm just bored out of my ever-loving mind and need a boost to the brain, that natural high that allows me to feel like I'm contributing to society... even if I'm not.

Does that make me codependent on theatre? Probably.
My heart aches to get out of Utah, out of this stagnancy and into the New York state of mind. I find myself lost in thoughts of pursuing my performance career at full-speed for hours upon hours everyday.

In January of 2008, I had just turned 21 and was starting at a new school. From January until September 2008, I had auditioned for five shows and had been turned away from each one. During that time, my self-esteem was in the toilet, I had a pretty pathetic-looking resumé, I was a little on the hefty side and picked lousy audition pieces. Those nine months were miserable for me. I worked two jobs for most of it and participated in some stagehand opportunities at the school in order to retain my scholarship and, perhaps, some sanity, too. Finally, I auditioned for and was cast in Urinetown for my first show at Weber in August of 2008. Since then, save a one-and-a-half-month gap between Peter Pan and Joseph at Rodgers, I have not stopped rehearsing and/or performing. That's more than three years NON-STOP.

So, yes, co-dependency is definitely a possibility here.
Since this past December, I have auditioned for three shows and a video contest. And since this past December, I have been rejected from three shows and a video contest. Even typing the word "rejected" made me cringe. I have gone into these auditions and the contest with prepared and appropriate pieces, a relatively impressive resumé, and decent self-confidence. So what gives? Why do I feel like history is repeating itself from those downtrodden nine months in 2008? Why do I feel myself slowly lessening in self-confidence and questioning if I'm doing the right thing?

In 2008, I would have answered those questions with tears, more questions, and with the proclamation that "I'm just not good enough."

But not today.

Today, in 2012, as a 25-year-old with a bachelor's degree in Theatre Arts, I answer those questions with a simple, unemotional and grown-up response: it is the nature of the beast.

Granted, there are those people in this business who somehow just get everything handed to them, but those people are few and far between. I work to get what I want, and sometimes even when I work my patookiss off, the odds aren't in my favor.
All cards on the table, I cried after three of the four auditions; I made the reasoning behind my not getting cast extremely personal, because... well, that's what we do. But the fact in the business is this: you win some, and you lose some. And it IS personal, isn't it? It could be about your hair color, your height, your eyes, your ethnicity, your vocal range, your choice of song, how curvy you are, how not curvy you are, your dress, your Equity membership. It's a personal business and it's a business about people. Casting directors, music directors, producers, and choreographers are not my enemies. I may not always agree with or understand the outcome in casting, but what's done is done, and then it's time to move on to what's next.

But best of all, I know that just because I wasn't someone's first pick for a musical or play or contest, I am still a woman of immeasurable worth. It doesn't define me. I hate to sound so cliché in saying something like that, but it's the truth. I also know that because I work hard, I will be able to find work. And as long as I continue to love it and grow in it, I am absolutely in the right profession.

While I wish I had been able to accept these realities years ago, I feel that now is the perfect time. With my move to New York on the rise, and hundreds of auditions on the horizon, I appreciate the understanding that no audition or callback is unsuccessful. If nothing else, it's thickening my skin and giving me more experienced perspectives for the next one and making me more grateful for the next show I DO get cast in.

Fact: this little planet called Theatre is an odd one... but it is one that I can call home. Because home is where the heart is.

The One Where Everyday is Valentine's Day.

I have so much love in my heart sometimes that it occasionally scares me and often hurts me. I literally ache with love. When I love, I love so deep. I'm even sometimes embarrassed by it. (I cried about Whitney, folks. For well over an hour and, after that, sporadically throughout the day. Did I know the woman? No. But I certainly loved her... see what I mean?)
I'm 25 years old, and I'm alone... with no romantic prospects in the near future. I wonder a lot why I am alone, and I can't point to the exact reason why. Am I too sassy? Too independent? Too dependent? Too loud, too reserved, too careful, too confident? I have no answers. I wallowed in that for a few moments before I sat down to write this post.

I don't like Valentine's Day. Don't worry, this won't be one of those diatribes from a bitter single female. Truthfully, I am not bitter about being single. While of course I wish I had someone to share Valentine's Day with, I'm certainly not mad or bitter about it.

Even when I had a Valentine, I thought it was silly. It never seemed to measure up to its hype. Sure, I'd gotten flowers and chocolates and love letters... but at the end of the day, I just shrugged my shoulders and realized that aside from a couple of roses, it was no different from February 13th or February 15th.

Which... just as I wrote that, I realized something else: shouldn't everyday be Valentine's Day? Just like everyday should be Thanksgiving or Christmas. Shouldn't we express thanks everyday? Shouldn't we always celebrate the gift of Christ's life every single day? Or Veteran's Day... shouldn't we always show our appreciation to those who fought for our country? Every 14th of February, we are urged to demonstrate our love for those around us in our day-to-day lives. (It isn't just about romance, though that seems to be the more popular expression.) Shouldn't everyday be a day that we express to our loved ones how much we care for them?

It is important to know what love is in order to express it constantly. Love is not an abstract feeling of longing and infatuation that intensifies on certain holidays. Real love should exist everyday. I'm going to do my best not to get too "preachy" here (because, really, I'm the last person who should be "preaching" to anyone), but there is a verse from the Bible that I often think about on Valentine's Day. It's in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Always. Always. Always. Everyday.

There are people in my life who literally give me a reason to wake up and roll out of bed in the morning: family, friends, teachers, co-workers, and even complete strangers. With 22 hours left in this day, I want to set a goal: to simply spread good cheer today and forever. Treat everyday like it's Valentine's Day and treat everyone like he or she is a special Valentine, I say.

This goes hand-in-hand with the "kindness" entry a couple of posts back. Call an old acquaintance just to say hello. Send a card out to someone you know to brighten their day. Slip a love note in your spouse's purse or lunch bag. Also, smiling is contagious, they say. So, smile at a complete stranger.

Love is the very essence of life. Happy Valentine's Day, yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always.