The One with the Tributes 2012.

This time last year, I was working in an office in Ogden, just finishing up my degree at Weber State University. This time last year, I was participating in A Christmas Carol for the first time. This time last year, I was living with my sister, playing with her pit bull, and perhaps paying far too much money to live in a bit of a dump.

This year, I am working as a hotel clerk in Salt Lake. I hold a bachelor's degree. This year, I am a rehearsing for A Christmas Carol again, playing a completely different role than last year. This year, I'm living with three close friends and paying a lesser amount for a nicer place.

This year, I haven't blogged as much as I wanted to. But I told myself that, regardless of that fact, there was one thing that I did last year that I would absolutely repeat this year when November approached us: my Tributes to Thanksgiving.

For those of you who weren't with me last year, this was a little project I took on (like so many other people during this time of year) where I challenged myself to blog once a day about something in my life that I am thankful for. It ended up being, as I expected it would, a great experience with humbling, pivotal, silly, candid, and difficult moments. It was a great way to remind myself of the many blessings that I do have and an excellent way to forget about what I don't have.

As was the case last year, I am starting a little late. It's November 4th, so these next two days or so will be doubled up on Tributes. I will admit that this go-around will be much more difficult than last year since I don't spend my time at a computer in an office anymore. I feel a little funky right now after having only slept about three hours last night. Forgive me if this entry seems choppy!

Tribute to Thanksgiving #1:  "The one thing that matters is the effort." - Antoine de Sainte-Exupery

Obviously when you take something that you are having negative feelings about and choose to put a positive spin on it, it's likely that those negative feelings will begin to dissipate, even if it's just a little. This is my hope with this Tribute, as the past three weeks have been especially taxing.

Today, I am thankful for my job. 

The truth is, it's not easy. I spend almost the entire eight hours on my feet and dealing with people I would sometimes rather punch in the face than offer my help to. I am blamed and apologize for things I have no control over. I get yelled at, cried to, laughed at. Upon first glance, working at a hotel seems like a relatively cushy job where you get to spend your time sitting around and merely checking in and checking out guests. Not the case, folks.

Now, let's talk about why I'm thankful for it. It is a good job that allows me to have my evenings open to rehearse and/or perform. It has taught me amazing discipline. It has taught me more patience. But above all, it has reminded me how to treat people.

I will never walk into a hotel, into an airport, into a restaurant, into a salon, theatre,  library, etc. without making eye contact with the person tending to customers/patrons. I have found that the mere glance and smile from a guest can truly brighten my day. I choose to be the person who the employees remember because of how pleasant I was, not how crabby or how hateful or impatient. I have grown to respect those in the service industry so much in the past eleven months of working at the hotel. The job isn't easy. But smiling is.

Tribute to Thanksgiving #2: "A baby is a little bit of heaven on earth." - Author unknown

This really needs no words.

The One Where I Win the Contest.

In my last post, I shared my most recent adventure of heading back to Texas to participate in Ennis' talent competition. 

When I go to Texas, I usually stay for about a week, and by the end of that week, I am itching to come back to my life here in Utah with familiar faces. However, this latest trip, I stayed for 11 days and was so sad to leave when it was time. I spent quality moments with my entire family. I played with the best dog and her adorable puppies. I wore pajamas 90% of the time I was there. I stared at, held, rocked, dressed, fed, burped, snuggled, laughed with, cried at, sang to, and loved on my sweet niece. I saw some wonderful people. And I sang and sang and sang.

I decided before I even got on the plane to fly to Texas that the trip was all going to be worth it even if I didn't walk away with the $1,000 prize from the talent contest.

But I did. I am $1,000 richer in my savings account (yes, it went right into my savings for the move to New York) because of the votes I received in the audience and invaluably richer in my heart because of the warmth and love of my family and home.

A little over a week has passed since the contest ended, and I am back in Utah, back to the grindstone of work, and back to rehearsal (see what show I'm doing next by clicking here). 

I have a lot of feelings. I always have. I always will. I am a very passionate person in regards to just about everything that I have anything to do with. This blog is, perhaps, a feeling-overload for some people. Maybe I say a few too many cliché phrases. But these words are my feelings, and my feelings are an important part of who I am, who I have been, and I who I will become.

Because I am so emotionally driven, I am an emotional performer. Because I am an emotional performer, theatre is therapy. As I sat in Natalie Toro's master class last month, a distinct question crossed my mind: Who needs therapy when they've got theatre?

Each show I have been a part of has taught me a different lesson, whether it be a lesson in life or a lesson in performing. For example, in playing Madame Defarge in A Tale of Two Cities, I realized the importance of choosing to be better instead of bitter when something goes terribly wrong in our lives. In Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, I learned that, yes, I can play flowers and sunshine and comedy. In Joseph, I learned that I was, truly, a belter. The list seems endless in what I have learned in my ten years of performing.

However, never has a show been as relevant in my personal life as 9 to 5 was for me this year. Again, no, I am not going through a divorce. No, I didn't feel a need to kidnap and harness my boss to a garage door opener. 

But I did find that I was rather tortured in my own understanding of what love is, where I should direct it, and who deserves it. I'm aware that this statement is pretty vague, but I think I'd rather keep it that way for now. Make no assumptions; they're probably wrong. I had a conversation with my mom when she came into town to see 9 to 5. She hadn't seen the show yet, but I explained to her that something had changed inside of me that made me let go of the things I was being tortured by. I said that I thought the role had something to do with it, but I wasn't sure how.

The next day, she came and saw the show. When the show ended, she greeted me in the lobby with the world's best hug. After being interrupted by everyone's favorite Superfan, she said as tears started to well up in her eyes, "Angie, you've let go because you've sang that song every other day since June. It's a constant reminder of what you can and should do." 

And then I started to cry as I realized how spot-on she was. That was exactly it. Singing "Get Out and Stay Out" in 9 to 5 was constantly reminding me that I can control who is in my life, who takes precedence, who I stand by, who I don't, what I choose to let affect me, and on and on and on. It was a constant reminder that I am loved, that I love myself, and that I don't need someone else to be in love with me in order to be happy and feel fulfilled. It was a constant reminder that I am strong, that I am full of love to give to my friends and family, that I have dreams and goals to fulfill that I am capable of fulfilling. It was and is a constant reminder that the important things aren't always easy, but they are always, always worth it.

And you better believe those last two times I sang that song after that performance were the most emotional, satisfying, and liberating.

Moms are so smart.

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.)