I made it through last week. Barely. And I'm barely making it through this one. How's that for a dramatic start? Seriously, though... I think I'm running on about 7 hours of sleep since Sunday night. It's been unbelievably busy, but even within it all, it's adding a happy little regime to my life.
Over the course of the last week and this one, I have become immensely aware of the effect the food I eat can have on my body, on my voice, on my attitude. I have been very conscious of my food choices, portion sizes, etc. It's strangely therapeutic. Mix that in with my "happy little regime" I mentioned above and things seem pretty balanced right now. I can't say that's been the case for months now.
There are things that I wish would come easily to me. Dancing is one of those things. I feel my insecurities and pacing cripples me as a performer; I feel it will for the rest of my life. I have very strong feelings about this subject (as I do practically any subject I discuss...), and I find myself very frustrated with it, too. I don't talk about it very much... but the minute anything "dancey" shows up, the jig is up. I fear that it quickly comes across as the girl who gets away with being in the musicals simply because she can sing. Kinda sucks. My point is this: things come easily to me. Except for that. I suppose it's the trial I was given to keep me humble.
Tonight is the MWF cast's opening of The Drowsy Chaperone. I cannot wait to have an audience - finally... and with so many sweet people that I know and love sitting there watching. I cannot wait to share with an audience what I've been watching and being a part of since August. It's a cute little present all wrapped up and ready to be opened. I am in love with everything about it.
I get SO nervous opening a show; every single time. (Almost. I think the one time I wasn't nervous was the second time I played Mrs. Darling in Peter Pan.) I hope it stays that way, too. It keeps me on my toes and it certainly contributes to the adrenaline needed for any show. This isn't a particularly large role, but that doesn't really matter. I have gotten to know so many wonderful people and, I'm not going to sell it short, I get to sing an awesome song on an airplane. On a stage. In the air.
I love my job.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The One about Les Miserables, 1994.
Holy homework. But it's done. For today. There will be more tomorrow and the next day and the next and the next. I cannot wait to graduate. Fuh. Real. These classes are kicking my butt... but I am surviving, and that's the important thing. The most important thing - imagining that diploma in my hands. I cannot wait to get on with my life. I have plans, but I have no idea what to expect when I walk away from college. Every time I think about it, I get excited.
I'm positive that I have one of the best friends on the face of the planet. I get very nostalgic almost everyday about the time I have spent with her. I have had some of the best times of my life with her. And no one quite gets it like she does.There's no such thing as reservation around her, no such thing as judgment, no such thing as fear of losing her, no such thing as belittlement. That's rare.
It's almost crunch-time. This week is going to be chaos.
Sometimes I get tired of being the strong girl, the one with the big, independent personality. I admit to wanting to be taken care of on occasion. I admit to getting physically and especially emotionally tired of wearing the armor. I admit that that tiresome feeling has become more prominent in my life lately. I admit that I have no idea how to handle it. Which is something else entirely - I hate not knowing how to handle every second of my life. I consider myself a very controlled person. I know how to budget my time; I know how to act in front of people; and I like to think I know what's going to happen tomorrow. I think spontaneous activities are a blast, that's not what I'm talking about... it's those unexpected situations that take hold of our lives. I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
We talked about something in our Five Carols rehearsals on Friday about the caliber at which we carry ordeals in our lives now. I have always found it fascinating watching a toddler handle a situation... like a broken crayon. To them, the fact that that little piece of wax broke in half is the worst thing they could ever imagine happening. I kind of wish those were still the things that I considered the biggest hardship in my life. I want to be three years old all over again. Yes, I'm serious.
In my last post, I talked about a moment in my life when I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. This is it: 1994. I was eight years old, and my mom was taking my sister and I to see our first stage production. Martha was four years old. It was the third U.S. national touring cast of Les Miserables and it was playing at the Music Hall at Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. I remember asking my mom before the show began if it was like a movie or real people; she told me it was real people, so when the curtain came up and the beginning action in the prison was taking place behind a netted scrim of sorts, I was upset. I honestly thought I was watching a movie... then the scrim went up and I got it. Minutes passed; if I remember correctly, I stayed pretty attentive to the action while Martha entertained herself in the corner. Then, young Cosette came out... I couldn't believe there was someone my age on that gigantic stage. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the actress. When she sang "Castle On a Cloud," I very, very, very distinctly remember holding my breath. I knew the song, and my eight-year-old brain thought, "That could be me."
That was it. Eight years old. I even remember the seat I was sitting in.
I'm positive that I have one of the best friends on the face of the planet. I get very nostalgic almost everyday about the time I have spent with her. I have had some of the best times of my life with her. And no one quite gets it like she does.There's no such thing as reservation around her, no such thing as judgment, no such thing as fear of losing her, no such thing as belittlement. That's rare.
It's almost crunch-time. This week is going to be chaos.
Sometimes I get tired of being the strong girl, the one with the big, independent personality. I admit to wanting to be taken care of on occasion. I admit to getting physically and especially emotionally tired of wearing the armor. I admit that that tiresome feeling has become more prominent in my life lately. I admit that I have no idea how to handle it. Which is something else entirely - I hate not knowing how to handle every second of my life. I consider myself a very controlled person. I know how to budget my time; I know how to act in front of people; and I like to think I know what's going to happen tomorrow. I think spontaneous activities are a blast, that's not what I'm talking about... it's those unexpected situations that take hold of our lives. I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
We talked about something in our Five Carols rehearsals on Friday about the caliber at which we carry ordeals in our lives now. I have always found it fascinating watching a toddler handle a situation... like a broken crayon. To them, the fact that that little piece of wax broke in half is the worst thing they could ever imagine happening. I kind of wish those were still the things that I considered the biggest hardship in my life. I want to be three years old all over again. Yes, I'm serious.
In my last post, I talked about a moment in my life when I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. This is it: 1994. I was eight years old, and my mom was taking my sister and I to see our first stage production. Martha was four years old. It was the third U.S. national touring cast of Les Miserables and it was playing at the Music Hall at Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. I remember asking my mom before the show began if it was like a movie or real people; she told me it was real people, so when the curtain came up and the beginning action in the prison was taking place behind a netted scrim of sorts, I was upset. I honestly thought I was watching a movie... then the scrim went up and I got it. Minutes passed; if I remember correctly, I stayed pretty attentive to the action while Martha entertained herself in the corner. Then, young Cosette came out... I couldn't believe there was someone my age on that gigantic stage. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the actress. When she sang "Castle On a Cloud," I very, very, very distinctly remember holding my breath. I knew the song, and my eight-year-old brain thought, "That could be me."
That was it. Eight years old. I even remember the seat I was sitting in.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The One with the Compliment Complex.
I struggle with the outlooks of a lot of people in theatre. Aside from people's unbelievable sense of entitlement, I really have a hard time understanding the unwillingness to compliment one another in this "business." It's almost like it's been ingrained into the brains (and hearts, for that matter) of "theatre people" that compliments toward our fellow performers is a bad thing; that if we do it, we are somehow saying, "You're better than me."
Even if we were saying that by giving a compliment, which I don't think is necessarily the case, what's wrong with someone being better at something than you? And more importantly, what's wrong with having a hand in making someone feel better about himself or herself?
We so willingly dish out the criticism. We so willingly give our opinions on how things should be. Why not so willingly compliment someone on something they've done well or something they've worked hard at?
I suppose I'm calling the kettle black, though. I'm not the best at applying this practice. I could do so much better, but I'm really trying. Everyday. Amazingly enough, when I take the time to point out the admirable qualities other people have, my life is more positive.
I understand wanting to be taken seriously when you do compliment someone, but I don't think the line is particularly thin. I think a person with any common sense can figure out when it looks like they're blowing smoke. This is not my cry for more compliments in any way, shape or form; this is just something I have observed and been frustrated with for some time. I see it happen almost everyday. It's a very negative way to be a part of something as wonderful as theatre.
Now, something I'm certainly not very good at is accepting compliments. I think that's something else that has been perforated into the human brain... to accept a compliment is to be arrogant. I've even taught myself that. Someone asked me last week if I had a "compliment filter" - if I just had a blocker that made me unable to even hear compliments. That's sad. And ungracious. I think we could all learn so much about ourselves (and others) by getting out of that funk.
Do you have an exact moment when you realized what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? I have been thinking about it so much lately. I have one, single solitary moment that helped spin my future. It's so cool to think about. Because of one moment, one thought, my life is going a certain way. If that moment hadn't existed, I probably wouldn't be in Utah at Weber State University; I wouldn't know some of the wonderful people I know. And I wouldn't even know what I was missing. I love thinking about that.
Even if we were saying that by giving a compliment, which I don't think is necessarily the case, what's wrong with someone being better at something than you? And more importantly, what's wrong with having a hand in making someone feel better about himself or herself?
We so willingly dish out the criticism. We so willingly give our opinions on how things should be. Why not so willingly compliment someone on something they've done well or something they've worked hard at?
I suppose I'm calling the kettle black, though. I'm not the best at applying this practice. I could do so much better, but I'm really trying. Everyday. Amazingly enough, when I take the time to point out the admirable qualities other people have, my life is more positive.
I understand wanting to be taken seriously when you do compliment someone, but I don't think the line is particularly thin. I think a person with any common sense can figure out when it looks like they're blowing smoke. This is not my cry for more compliments in any way, shape or form; this is just something I have observed and been frustrated with for some time. I see it happen almost everyday. It's a very negative way to be a part of something as wonderful as theatre.
Now, something I'm certainly not very good at is accepting compliments. I think that's something else that has been perforated into the human brain... to accept a compliment is to be arrogant. I've even taught myself that. Someone asked me last week if I had a "compliment filter" - if I just had a blocker that made me unable to even hear compliments. That's sad. And ungracious. I think we could all learn so much about ourselves (and others) by getting out of that funk.
Do you have an exact moment when you realized what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? I have been thinking about it so much lately. I have one, single solitary moment that helped spin my future. It's so cool to think about. Because of one moment, one thought, my life is going a certain way. If that moment hadn't existed, I probably wouldn't be in Utah at Weber State University; I wouldn't know some of the wonderful people I know. And I wouldn't even know what I was missing. I love thinking about that.
Friday, September 17, 2010
The One with the Fairy Tale Stories.
Holy cow. I look at my days, and I honestly wonder how I am still going after a few weeks. Things really start picking up starting next week, and especially the week following. Tech week for Drowsy plus Carols rehearsal. Eeeeek! We open Drowsy in two and a half weeks. I can't believe it. (Are you coming to see it?)
Even in the midst of my busy schedule, I still have time to reflect. I am seriously SO amazed at the things I have learned even in the last few weeks!
I read a lot. Sometimes assigned school readings, sometimes books that I discover (or that others help me discover) - like The Hunger Games series (one day I'll actually finish it) - and sometimes just really random things... like old fairy tales or childrens' stories. Today, I read The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen. It's a fascinating story with some incredible life lessons in it. I think I read these stories because I miss my family. We never really had bedtime stories or anything like that, but I do remember knowing all about fairy tales and the like. There was a movie I remember, especially, called Hans Christian Andersen, starring Danny Kaye. Alongside The Snow Queen, the real Hans Christian Andersen wrote stories like The Little Mermaid (read his original version... it's so sad), The Little Match Girl, and The Ugly Duckling. I know it sounds a little juvenile, but I am obsessed with these stories. Obsessed. If you don't feel like actually reading any of them, maybe this will give you some idea. It's the best video depiction of The Little Match Girl I've ever seen. I ALWAYS cry.
I love Christmas. (Yes, I just watched that video and segued into this.) I am so lucky that I get to start Christmas early this year. How, you ask? The musical at Weber this semester is an original one-act musical called Five Carols for Christmas. That means I get to indulge myself in Christmas music from now until... well, Christmas! I am so excited. Confession: I sometimes listen to Christmas songs when it's any month but December. Sometimes, it's the 'N Sync Home For Christmas CD. Probably more often than I should... everybody has something... I still have my undying love for that album. I also can't help listening to Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown. Don't worry, it's always just in the comfort of my own room or car. And on bad days. You have to admit, Christmas music is happy. And there's nothing wrong with me wanting happy.
I have learned, even over the past few days, that I should not ever let a day go by without realizing how grateful I am for even the tiniest things I have. Life can just be snatched away from me without warning. I can't take it for granted. This morning, I talked to my mom. It wasn't a particularly easy day, but getting to hear her voice made the day perfect. She is an absolutely wonderful woman, and I am so glad she raised me the way she did.
I am so grateful for my friends. I know I may not be the easiest to get along with; I know I may not be the nicest person on the planet; I know I may close myself off; I know I may not be the easiest to understand... but I am truly grateful for the people that put up with me everyday that I can call my closest friends. I cannot take it for granted, and I cannot let a day go by without my sweet friends knowing that I always have and always will care.
Even in the midst of my busy schedule, I still have time to reflect. I am seriously SO amazed at the things I have learned even in the last few weeks!
I read a lot. Sometimes assigned school readings, sometimes books that I discover (or that others help me discover) - like The Hunger Games series (one day I'll actually finish it) - and sometimes just really random things... like old fairy tales or childrens' stories. Today, I read The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen. It's a fascinating story with some incredible life lessons in it. I think I read these stories because I miss my family. We never really had bedtime stories or anything like that, but I do remember knowing all about fairy tales and the like. There was a movie I remember, especially, called Hans Christian Andersen, starring Danny Kaye. Alongside The Snow Queen, the real Hans Christian Andersen wrote stories like The Little Mermaid (read his original version... it's so sad), The Little Match Girl, and The Ugly Duckling. I know it sounds a little juvenile, but I am obsessed with these stories. Obsessed. If you don't feel like actually reading any of them, maybe this will give you some idea. It's the best video depiction of The Little Match Girl I've ever seen. I ALWAYS cry.
I love Christmas. (Yes, I just watched that video and segued into this.) I am so lucky that I get to start Christmas early this year. How, you ask? The musical at Weber this semester is an original one-act musical called Five Carols for Christmas. That means I get to indulge myself in Christmas music from now until... well, Christmas! I am so excited. Confession: I sometimes listen to Christmas songs when it's any month but December. Sometimes, it's the 'N Sync Home For Christmas CD. Probably more often than I should... everybody has something... I still have my undying love for that album. I also can't help listening to Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown. Don't worry, it's always just in the comfort of my own room or car. And on bad days. You have to admit, Christmas music is happy. And there's nothing wrong with me wanting happy.
I have learned, even over the past few days, that I should not ever let a day go by without realizing how grateful I am for even the tiniest things I have. Life can just be snatched away from me without warning. I can't take it for granted. This morning, I talked to my mom. It wasn't a particularly easy day, but getting to hear her voice made the day perfect. She is an absolutely wonderful woman, and I am so glad she raised me the way she did.
I am so grateful for my friends. I know I may not be the easiest to get along with; I know I may not be the nicest person on the planet; I know I may close myself off; I know I may not be the easiest to understand... but I am truly grateful for the people that put up with me everyday that I can call my closest friends. I cannot take it for granted, and I cannot let a day go by without my sweet friends knowing that I always have and always will care.
Monday, September 6, 2010
The First One.
I'm not very good at keeping things like this up. I think the last time I had anything like this was as a junior in high school. Does anyone else remember how cool Xanga.com was back in 2004/2005? Everyone had one. I think.
...
Okay. I confess. I actually just went to Xanga.com and found my old blog... luckily, all the posts are private now. My last post was when I was at BYU-Idaho in February of 2006. Holy moley... I was annoying. I used the phrase "hoot and a half" about a hundred times. I must've thought I was a seventy-year-old woman. I wonder at what point blogs that go that ignored get deleted from the web entirely. I wouldn't mind... but at the same time, it's very interesting to go back and read the petty things I let control my life, my moods, etc.
I'm so fascinated with how things are playing out in my life right now. I have never, EVER been this busy before. I literally have only Sundays to myself. Every second of every other day of the week is full of activities, schoolwork, rehearsals, work, you name it. In fact, starting a blog right now is probably not the wisest decision, but I fully intend on keeping this as up-to-date as possible.
I love being busy, though. Really. And I hate not having anything to do. I actually throw myself pity parties when I'm not busy. When I don't have anything to do, it's like my heart is giving me permission to get sad and lonely. So... staying busy is ultimately the best thing I could possibly be doing for myself. And I'm well enough to not need those pity parties.
I miss my family dearly. The unconditional love that I feel from them blows me away. Their support, their honesty, their love is more than I could ever ask for. I don't talk to them nearly as often as I should but I absolutely think about them everyday. Little things here and there remind me of them. I love that.
I love having a sister whose personality sparkles.
I love having a brother that I can call my own personal hero.
I love having a sister-in-law who makes me laugh.
I love having a dad who says "I love you" more than anyone I know, who has such a huge heart.
And I love having a mom that I can call my best friend.
Can I just say how much I love theatre? I have always loved it, but as time goes on, I grow more and more fond of it. Being in "Drowsy" has definitely pushed the love-level up about a zillion notches. Every aspect of it is such a positive experience. And I'm learning so much about how to choose to be in a rehearsal process. How much I learn, how much I take from it, how much I contribute to it, how positive it is... it's a choice.
That being said, come see it, okay? It's playing at the Hale Centre Theatre in West Valley. I'm in the MWF (and Saturday 12:30 matinee) cast. The MWF shows play at 7:30 PM, and our opening is October 6th. The show is incredibly charming. And maybe I'm biased, but the cast is pretty incredible, too. If you come see it, and you don't love it, I'll give you a dollar. Deal?
I am a senior. And I am sad to say that I have severe "senioritis". I love Weber with all my little heart. I'm just... done with school. I am so close that I can taste it. I've been in school for eight semesters; this in my ninth. Finally, five years of school will be more than enough. For now. (Do I see graduate school in the future? Absolutely. But not for a little while.)
I have so many goals for my future that it's a little scary to step back and look at the mile-long list before me. Goals for tomorrow, goals for this week, goals for this month, goals for this year, goals for the rest of my life. But that's what drives me everyday. When we wake up, aren't we all just pursuing our personal goals, however temporary/current they might be? I refuse to be stagnant.
This all sounds more philosophical than you'd probably like to hear - consider this your warning... chances are, this blog will remain reflective and thoughtful and even theoretical. It's therapeutic. Everyone has something, right?
...
Okay. I confess. I actually just went to Xanga.com and found my old blog... luckily, all the posts are private now. My last post was when I was at BYU-Idaho in February of 2006. Holy moley... I was annoying. I used the phrase "hoot and a half" about a hundred times. I must've thought I was a seventy-year-old woman. I wonder at what point blogs that go that ignored get deleted from the web entirely. I wouldn't mind... but at the same time, it's very interesting to go back and read the petty things I let control my life, my moods, etc.
I'm so fascinated with how things are playing out in my life right now. I have never, EVER been this busy before. I literally have only Sundays to myself. Every second of every other day of the week is full of activities, schoolwork, rehearsals, work, you name it. In fact, starting a blog right now is probably not the wisest decision, but I fully intend on keeping this as up-to-date as possible.
I love being busy, though. Really. And I hate not having anything to do. I actually throw myself pity parties when I'm not busy. When I don't have anything to do, it's like my heart is giving me permission to get sad and lonely. So... staying busy is ultimately the best thing I could possibly be doing for myself. And I'm well enough to not need those pity parties.
I miss my family dearly. The unconditional love that I feel from them blows me away. Their support, their honesty, their love is more than I could ever ask for. I don't talk to them nearly as often as I should but I absolutely think about them everyday. Little things here and there remind me of them. I love that.
I love having a sister whose personality sparkles.
I love having a brother that I can call my own personal hero.
I love having a sister-in-law who makes me laugh.
I love having a dad who says "I love you" more than anyone I know, who has such a huge heart.
And I love having a mom that I can call my best friend.
Can I just say how much I love theatre? I have always loved it, but as time goes on, I grow more and more fond of it. Being in "Drowsy" has definitely pushed the love-level up about a zillion notches. Every aspect of it is such a positive experience. And I'm learning so much about how to choose to be in a rehearsal process. How much I learn, how much I take from it, how much I contribute to it, how positive it is... it's a choice.
That being said, come see it, okay? It's playing at the Hale Centre Theatre in West Valley. I'm in the MWF (and Saturday 12:30 matinee) cast. The MWF shows play at 7:30 PM, and our opening is October 6th. The show is incredibly charming. And maybe I'm biased, but the cast is pretty incredible, too. If you come see it, and you don't love it, I'll give you a dollar. Deal?
I am a senior. And I am sad to say that I have severe "senioritis". I love Weber with all my little heart. I'm just... done with school. I am so close that I can taste it. I've been in school for eight semesters; this in my ninth. Finally, five years of school will be more than enough. For now. (Do I see graduate school in the future? Absolutely. But not for a little while.)
I have so many goals for my future that it's a little scary to step back and look at the mile-long list before me. Goals for tomorrow, goals for this week, goals for this month, goals for this year, goals for the rest of my life. But that's what drives me everyday. When we wake up, aren't we all just pursuing our personal goals, however temporary/current they might be? I refuse to be stagnant.
This all sounds more philosophical than you'd probably like to hear - consider this your warning... chances are, this blog will remain reflective and thoughtful and even theoretical. It's therapeutic. Everyone has something, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
