Friday, September 08, 2006

99.44% Healthy

Remember those Ivory commercials? ::::sings:::: “Gotta be ninety-nine point FORTY-four! Got a clean as real as Ivory . . . “ Yeah, I watched WAY too much TV growing up.

Anyway, I’m not dead, and I don’t even wish that I were, anymore. Since everyone and their mother apparently knows what it was at this point, I might as well post it here: I had an anal fissure. And god-DAMN, that hurt! Someone told me that the feeling is very similar to severe hemmorhoids, so all you mommies know what that’s like. And what it’s NOT like, is fun. Nothing at all like fun. Ick.

Anyway, I went to the acupuncturist and she gave me some stuff to take and basically said, “Go home, lie down and don’t eat solid foods for a while. And when you do start eating, eat lots of steamed veggies, but not a lot of anything else.” So that’s what I did. And lo and behold, no surgery and I feel lots better! Whew! I’m not a fan of getting cut open, if I can avoid it. :P Unfortunately, I developed some skin tags (which I guess is pretty common with this), and those WILL have to get cut off surgically. Damn. I almost dodged that bullet. But it won’t be any big deal.

I saw a “regular” doctor last week, and he was pretty shocked that the fissure had healed itself, which was kind of funny. It always cracks me up when allopathic doctors are surprised that something else works, too. ::::shakes head:::: Ah, well. It’s not TOTALLY healed, so he gave me some nitroglycerin to apply topically and said to come back in 2 months: 6 weeks of nitro, 2 weeks to get it out of my system, and then we’ll talk about surgery. But he was pretty amazed that it had healed at all. He said he could actually tell how deep it had been, and said that if he’d seen me first, he would’ve put me into surgery post-haste. As it was, he ended up taking my acupuncturist’s card to refer other patients! Ha!

So that’s the upshot. I went back to work yesterday, and although I’m a little tender after sitting on my butt for the last two days (office jobs will do that), I’m ok. I just go home and lay down and watch TV all night. I never thought I’d be able to rationalize laziness as good for me! LOL

I also have a whole list of dietary restrictions now, too. I lived on broth and juice for about 3 weeks and lost almost 20 pounds when it was all said and done, so now I’m trying to keep the weight off! The fact that my diet is SEVERELY limited from here on out will help with that, I’m sure! I can’t eat any more dairy (although I did get some leeway for cream in my morning coffee, after I begged and pleaded!) – in fact, it was probably when I started eating more nonfat dairy that the fissure started developing. I’d actually been told by a few holistic doctors that I needed to lay off the dairy, but I didn’t have the motivation to do it. Boy do I have the motivation now, though! LOL I’m also severely restricted on grains. No bread, no sugar, all that kind of stuff. Oatmeal is ok, and the occasional piece of bread (VERY occasional), but as a rule it’s all out. So I’ll be eating a lot of veggies and fruit, with a little chicken and fish. (The holistic doctor said, “You’re looking at 80% fruits and veggies, maybe steamed with some olive oil, about 15% chicken or fish and 5% for everything else.”)

But I’m actually glad for all this: I lost some weight and actually have the motivation to take care of myself, which means I’ll keep it off. Plus, not only will I be skinnier, I’ll be healthier. And since I spent the last few weeks on broth and juice, most of my cravings have been cleared out of my system, which is VERY cool. I basically detoxed my system because I was trying to get well. Nice. :)

Monday I start a permanent, part-time position at Disney. Woo-hoo! I work 9-3, M-F, but I can adjust my hours for auditions if I need to, which is very cool. Plus, I get a park pass! I’m stoked on that!! My sister and I have been buying season tickets every year, but this way I can get us both in for free! Hee! ::::happy dance, happy dance:::: There are a few dates we can’t go, but not many, so YAY!!! I LOVE Disneyland!

And in other news, I had signed up for an online dating service last year. I went on a few dates with a few people, but nothing really worked out, and I pretty much stopped looking. I kept the account active because it was free and I liked hanging out in the forums, but I wasn’t really looking anymore. And then I started talking to this guy who also posted a lot in the forums. I knew he was smart and well-written just from reading what he had to say on various subjects, but I never really bothered contacting him, because he lives in Virginia. But it finally happened that we got to talking one day, and just really got along well. We were writing these crazy long emails every night, and when we started talking on the phone, it was just as ridiculous: we’re on the phone for 2 and 3 hours at a time. So, the long and short of it is that he’s coming out here next Wednesday for 10 days. I’m really excited – I figure the worst thing that can happen is that it won’t work out romantically (can’t make the distance work, lack of chemistry, whatever), and I’ll end up with a really close friend. Obviously, I hope we hit it off, but even if we don’t, I figure any scenario where the worst thing that happens is that I make a new friend must be a pretty damn good one.

So yay. :)

Aaaaanyway, that’s life for the last month or so. I’ll try and start posting regularly again, now that I’m back from the land of “I-wish-I-was-dead.”

And I’ll be around to everyone’s blogs to catch up and say hello!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Fun with doctors

Well, that embarrassing butt problem I had last time I wrote? That got SO much worse last week. I woke up in the middle of the night and almost barfed, I hurt so much. And that’s saying a lot for me: I have a REALLY high pain tolerance for internal problems. My mom came up on Thursday to stay with me, and we got an appointment to see a Chinese doctor (well, an American doctor who practices Chinese medicine) on Friday. I literally lied in bed all day Thursday and tried not to cry. Mom took me to the doctor on Friday and she asked a million questions, looked at my tongue and took my pulse. I got some herbal Chinese remedy to help stimulate the chi in my digestive system, refresh my spleen, my stomach, my kidneys, my liver. It’s in a pill form, which I was grateful for. Sometimes they make you brew these nasty teas and drink them. :P The pills don’t smell too bad, though, and they seem to be helping. I also had some acupuncture, which was weird, but SO helpful, and I’m scheduled for 4 more treatments.

So . . . I’m still hurting, but I’m sort of functional. I’m at work for 4 hours today, after being out Thursday, Friday and Monday. (Although I told them I was in the hospital – people tend to treat that with more gravitas than when you tell them you’re seeing a Chinese doctor.)

But this is a short post, because I’m exhausted. Being in constant pain will do that to you. :P On the up side, I lost 8 pounds this week!! (Yeah, I know it’s fucked-up to be excited about that, but I’m trying to look on the bright side, here! LOL)

Saturday, August 05, 2006

What goes up, must come down

Ok, so the whole job thing that started out so well may not be going so well. I was supposed to start Monday in a permanent, part-time position, but apparently since I'm technically in a different job title, they can keep me as a full-time temporary employee for another 6 months. My supervisor delivered the news in such a cheerful, "Isn't that great?" manner that I was stunned and spluttered something like, "Well, um, ok, I think I could swing that . . . " Stupid, stupid. I need to learn the following words: "I need to think about it." Simple words, really. But not the ones I used.

My reasoning in the heat of the moment was that if they're really willing to let me go for auditions and such, that'd be great, but the job schedule is a schedule I HATE, and I know that last year when I was doing extra work one day a week, they got annoyed after a few weeks, even though I'd SAID I needed to do that going in. So I'm not holding out much hope that they'll be totally kosher with my taking off in the middle of the day to audition if I'm working 8 hours instead of 6. (See, if I work a total of 6, I can take off for 2 hours in the middle of the day to audition, and still work all the hours I'm "supposed" to. If I'm "supposed" to work 8 though, and I'm gone 2 hours in the middle of the day, I'm NOT working all the hours they want me to.)

So I'm going in on Monday to basically say that we're both changing the rules: the job they offered initially is NOT what they're saying now (and if they'd offered me the job on the contingency that I work for another 6 months full-time, I'd have turned it down), and I said I'd work full-time through January, but I can't. So the compromise I'll offer is to work full-time until the existing employee leaves, and have them switch me over after that. She's looking for work right now, so I'd guess I'll have a month, maybe two of working full-time, and then switch to part-time. I'll still have to audition, so that's not going to change, and they'll have to deal with that. Obviously I'll be a little more diplomatic, though. It won't get me very far to go in and rant uncontrollably. :P

In other news, I've managed to develop a rather painful, embarrassing butt condition. (I wouldn't even share this, but I think most of you who read this have kids and/or are old enough to have them, and God knows nothing's sacred after that! LOL) It's not hemorrhoids, but Mom tells me it's pretty much the same feeling. Great. I can't sit, I can't stand, and God forbid I go to the doctor. But I looked it up on the internet, and the main treatment is surgery, which is so NOT happening!!! So I've been laying around, taking homeopathy and using various over-the-counter medications ranging from toothache medicine (benzocaine to cut the pain) and aloe vera (to promote healing).

On the plus side, I haven't been eating solid food particularly (because the result of food is poo, and poo HURTS), which means that I've lost about 4 pounds in the last several days. I know it'll come back as soon as I start eating again, but in the meantime, it makes me feel better. I might as well get SOMETHING out of this fucking misery.

For cryin' out loud . . . . Just shoot me now.

Friday, July 28, 2006

I got the job!

I pretty much knew I’d get called in for the interviews and all that, but that didn’t even happen. I talked to the Sr VP yesterday afternoon and he offered me the job outright. So next week I’ll work 40 hours as a temp, and the following Monday I’ll start in a permanent, part-time position. I’m pretty stoked. :) I’ll be working with the existing Assistant until she leaves in January, so I’ll have a good 5 months to get acclimated and learn whatever work I don’t already know how to do, which is cool – especially since I’m working in the Legal dept, I’d hate to run into a situation and NOT know what to do. That could get hairy.

It’s just a little weird how fast everything fell into place. Don’t misunderstand; the layoffs are HORRIBLE. But as far as my situation is concerned, it worked out really well. I just wish my good fortune didn’t come at the expense of someone else. :P

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Coming up for air

The last two weeks have been crazy. I spent last week at home – everyone was gone but my mom and me, and we both had loads of cleaning out to do. I spent the whole week going through old stuff from my room and either throwing it out or giving it away. Lordy. Most of it was easy to get rid of, but there were a few things I had a hard time with. Old stuff from college, stuff I’d gotten from my then-best-friend, that kind of thing. I couldn’t even bring myself to touch my dance bag. I know there are 8 or 10 pairs of dance shoes in there, most of which I’ll never wear again, but still. I kept thinking, “I really need to clean that out,” and the thought of it would make me teary. Guess I’m not totally ready to let go of that stuff yet. So in the bag it all remains, at least for now.

Mom was cleaning out a bunch of stuff while Dad and Baby Sis were gone, so we’d work all day and then collapse at night with a movie (and some pizza or Chinese food – the diet went all to hell last week).

I’ve also been working a temporary job at The Walt Disney Studios, and my assignment is about to be over. I should be done sometime next week, but it suddenly looks like I might be staying longer. When I got back this week (after taking last week off), I found out that there were HUGE layoffs going on. The Admin. Assistant for the Sr VP of the Legal dept (where I’m working) was among the layoffs, as was another one in the Legal dept. They’re going to take 2 full-time secretarial positions and turn them into 1 part-time position. It sounds like a lot, but in reality, both those positions (by the assistants’ own admittance) were about 30% work and 70% trying to look busy because there wasn’t really enough work to do. The new position would be 12-6, M-F, which would be a really good schedule for me at the moment, and the total pay would be about what I’m making working full-time through the temp agency now (at 40 hrs/week). Aaaaaaand, I like everyone here, and they all seem to like me a lot too, so I’m first in line for the job if I want it.

They actually offered me this position before the layoffs, and I had turned it down, because I was thinking I’d need full days free to do background work in order to get my union card for acting. But since that time, I’ve gotten an agent, which means I’ll need a couple of hours here and there to audition, but not full days off, since I have every intention of getting my union card by working commercials. And if I had a job like this, it’d pay my bills, so anything I made from a commercial (which pays $1000-$80,000/year, depending on the commercial and the distribution) would just go straight to my bank account/stock account. I could buy a house in 3 or 4 years! That would be AWESOME! So I talked to my supervisor the other day and said that since things had changed with the agent situation, I’d be interested if that position opened up. And that was BEFORE I heard about the Admin. Assistants getting laid off! ::::Shakes head::::

So I might be staying at Disney. Which would be cool. As a part-timer I don’t get ANY benefits: no health, no sick or vacation days, no free park passes, but that’s no different from what I’m getting through the temp agency, so it’s not like I’d be giving anything up. AND I’d be on a studio lot (where there are frequent celebrity sightings, which is SO cool), AND I’d be working for a really cool company, with really cool people. So I’m beginning to get excited. :)

Wish me luck. I’ll try and post again sooner than two weeks from now! LOL

Oh, I almost forgot!!! I finally cracked that weight plateau: down a total of 11.4 now! :D (And I’m reading a REALLY interesting health book that I’ll talk about later.)

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Laugh of the day . . . or maybe the year

Click here:

Read the post called "I love the internets, yes I do."
Click on the links provided in the article as you read.

Try not to wet yourself because you're laughing too hard.


If you want more fun, about the same post, go here:

Note: If you read this and you're pro-life, please understand that I am not posting this to bash pro-lifers. I am posting this to bash stupidity, no matter what side of an issue it's on! LOL

The word of the day:

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

A five things meme

This was entertaining . . . From PJ over at Mixed With Sugar . . . :D (I gotta stop stealing your stuff! LOL)

The Five Things Meme

Five things in my closet:
Handbags (each stuffed with tissue and stored)
Shoe boxes (with shoes in them – I’m not THAT messy! :D)
Plastic stackable storage containers (full of underwear, socks/nylons and bras)
My computer case
My weekend carry-all (for traveling)

Five things in my car:
Extra headshots and resumes
A soap dish full of change (for when I’m broke and need coffee or parking money)
Miscellaneous CDs
A blank notebook (for the mileage I keep forgetting to write down)

Five things in my refrigerator:
A jar of roasted red peppers
Kalamata olives (almost gone, now. ::::pout::::)
Low-carb tortillas from Trader Joe’s
Olive oil
Egg Whites
Oo, oo – can I add a sixth? English cheddar with carmelized onions! I found it at Trader Joe’s and it’s SO GOOD! :D Makes a hell of an omelette . . .

Five things in my purse:
(Skipping the obvious – wallet, phone, etc.)
A mini-makeup bag (yes, there’s more than powder and lipstick in it – scary, huh? :D)
Balance Bar
Disneyland Annual pass
Water bottle
3 CDs (I have to do SOMETHING at work while I file things!)

So there ya go . . . what are your five things??

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

An update

The last few weeks I haven’t been doing so well, weight-wise. I gained about a pound and a half since my 9.3 pounds post, and I’ve been holding steady at about an 8 pound loss ever since.

The last couple of weeks I really wasn’t in a good place emotionally or physically. I had run my body into the ground, and it really took getting sick to straighten out my head. So I’m trying to take better care of myself. My cousin really wants to get some consistent exercise, and so do I, so we’re nagging each other, which works out well. LOL We don’t exercise together, but we’ll ask each other, “Did you exercise this week?” “Have you exercised again yet?” “You know you only have to do one more day; did you do it yet?” She’s cute, too. We’ll be sitting in the playroom talking, and suddenly she’ll announce dramatically, “We should both be exercising! Let’s go! This conversation can wait! I’ll talk to you in 40 minutes when we’re done!” LOL But it helps to be a little bit accountable, especially to someone who won’t get snotty if I don’t always make my goals.

As an aside, in the last Weight Watchers meeting, the leader was talking about getting support from other people. She was talking about how she’d tell her husband, “I really need your support,” and then two days later SHE’D suggest going out for ice cream. And he really couldn’t win: if he reminded her that she was trying to lose weight, she was mad (“You aren’t my father!”), and if he obligingly went along for ice cream, she was mad (“Why did you let me do that?”)! LOL She finally figured out what she needed and said to him, “At this party tonight, I’m not going to eat any of the hors doeuvres (sp??), except the veggies. So if you happen to notice that I’m doing really well, and sticking to my resolve, I’d really appreciate it if you’d come over and tell me you’re proud of me. And if you see me breaking my resolve and inhaling piles of chips, just DON’T SAY ANYTHING.” LOL That cracked me up, but I knew what she meant. It’s nice to have your efforts appreciated, but no one wants a baby-sitter.

So my cousin and I are trying to get in at least 3 days of exercise every week. I figure that’s enough to do me some good, and not so much that I get either obsessive (and start working out 2 hours a day, 7 days a week – I’ve been there :P) or overwhelmed (after about 3 weeks of working out 2 hours every day!) and quit. Three days a week. I can do that, right? Sure.

I’m a little proud of myself right now, though; I haven’t been drinking abnormally, by which I mean either for the wrong reasons and/or to excess. I had a beer on the Fourth with my cousin, and a glass of wine the other night. Actually I poured a second glass and started on it, but after a swallow or two I realized what I was doing, and I dumped the rest of it out. THAT was hard!! LOL I’m not a big fan of dumping out wine!

But other than that, I have not been drinking the last couple of weeks. There isn’t even any in the house at the moment. So I’m feeling saner. And when I wish I had a glass of (fill in the blank – I’ll drink anything), I’ve been making it a point to stop and think about WHY I want it. Usually I just need to go to bed, because I’m just tired. And sometimes the mental chatter in my head is out of control, which means I need to meditate. (Note to self: mediTATE, not mediCATE! LOL) It’s almost always one of those two things, though.

So, yay for that. :)

So very little alcohol, some exercise, and I have started being a little, teeny, tiny bit more honest about what I’m putting in my mouth! LOL I think I’d started low-balling those points . . . ah, screw it, I KNOW I’d started low-balling those points! “If the salmon roll (salmon, rice and seaweed) is 4 points, then the spicy salmon and avocado roll (salmon, avocado, a little mayo, rice and seaweed) is probably the same, right? Veggies don’t really count towards points, and there’s not really enough mayo in it to count . . . so yeah, 4 points is probably about right. “

A-HEM. May I have a side of sabotage to go with my main course of denial? Thank you SO much. And for dessert I think I’ll have the “Why me?” Oh, what the heck. I’ll have another plate of denial to go as well; I’m sure if it’s the same food the points won’t REALLY count. Lovely, thank you. :P

Monday, July 10, 2006

Fun with words

This post is inspired by one that PJ posted recently . . . Thanks, PJ! :D

What words do you like? And what words (especially made-up words) drive you crazy?

I really really like the word windowsill. Especially if you say it a little exaggeratedly. Start high and then drop down every syllable: WIN-Dow-sill . . . Love it. :D

And “pickle relish.” I love the staccato sound of it: pic-kle-rel-ish. ::::hums happily::::

On the flip side, have you ever said a word so many times in a row that it loses all meaning and suddenly becomes nothing more than an odd conglomeration (I like that word, too) of sounds? And suddenly you realize how odd your own language sounds. Ooorrrrrrrrrr . . . maybe it’s just me. :P I used to do that all the time when I was little, although mostly I did it in my room Otherwise somewhere around the 30th repetition of the word my mother would start hollering, “If I hear you say “hamburger” ONE MORE TIME . . . !!!” LOL

On the other hand, there are words and mispronunciations that make me CRAZY. “Heighth” is a prime example. “What is your heighth?” WTF??? There is NO SUCH WORD AS HEIGHTH, PEOPLE!! It’s HEIGHT! No “H” at the end! Hard “T!” Everybody say it together, now . . . HeighT!! Like “heighT and weighT” – they go together, just like the “TH” words: “lengTH and widTH.” There is generally no mixing of the two. You just don’t usually hear, “height and width,” unless someone (who thinks they’re funny) is being incredibly rude. Likewise, you don’t hear “length and weight,” unless you’re talking about a newborn.


::::deep breath:::: Excuse me while I clamber down off my soapbox now. I feel much better.

As an aside, I also like the word “clamber.” “Traipse” is another good one, often used by my mom when I was late coming home: “Where did you go traipsing off to?” And let’s not forget “conglomeration,” listed above.

Pardon me now, while I go traipsing off to do some work . . .

Friday, July 07, 2006

Nothing to see here . . .

Life is extremely uneventful at the moment. I was sick for several days, so that pretty much curtailed any wild, debauched Fourth of July plans. That is, if I’d HAD any wild, debauched Fourth of July plans! LOL

I moved into a new room over the weekend (still in Grandma’s house, but a nicer room with its own bathroom, which I’m more than willing to pay rent for), and it was FILTHY. So I vacuumed and dusted and Windex-ed and Pledge-d everything within an inch of its life, and when I was done, my sinuses were so full of dust that I couldn’t breathe. Combine that with the fact that I was exhausted from the busy schedule I’ve had lately, and ta-da! I woke up Monday morning with what I hoped was just a summer cold, but which turned out to be a fairly nasty virus.

I don’t get sick very often. I really only get sick when I’ve run my body past its limits and then pushed it some more. Bad food, no sleep, too much activity, no meditation, no exercise, and my body finally says, “All right, BITCH. You don’t want to rest? Watch THIS!!” and BOOM! I’m sick. And what do I do when I’m sick? Lie on the couch and watch movies all day. Sounds like rest to me. So my body always wins like that. Dirty fighter. :P

And that was pretty much my week. I finally got back in to work yesterday, and got some stuff done, although I sleep-walked through the second half of the day. But I woke up this morning feeling fairly human, so I’m officially back in the world of the living! Just in time to start my Saturday class back up and get busy all over again!! ::::sigh:::: I have GOT to learn how to be crazy-busy and still stay sane. No, I take that back. I KNOW how – I just have to make the commitment to DO the meditation and DO the exercise and DO the nutrition.

Who knew being an adult would be so much frickin’ WORK???? LOL

Friday, June 30, 2006

Mr. Saturday Night, part 2

I have the Natalie Cole version of “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” stuck in my head. Mostly because the opening line is “Missed the Saturday dance,” but when I was little, I thought it was “Mis-ter Saturday Night,” and guess who called me the other day? Oh yeah, you know it.

I actually sent a “Dear John” e-mail on Monday. Kind of tacky, but I wasn’t feeling like dealing with a giant freak-out on my hands, and I had every indication that that’s what I would get in person. I did say in the e-mail that the reason I sent it instead of calling was that sometimes things are easier to process that way, and that if he needed to talk, he had my number. I knew he’d call, but I also knew that at least with the e-mail I’d already had my say (since he doesn’t listen in person).

Before I go any further though, I have to explain my phone situation. It’s pretty simple, really: I only give out my cell number. My cell ringer is never on, because I forget to turn it OFF and I don’t want it going off in church, movie theatres, restaurants, dates, etc. I’m from the old school belief that the phone is for MY convenience, not so that everyone else can get hold of me immediately to tell me how they’re stuck in traffic and bored, and what am I doing right now? :P I always tell people that: my phone’s never on, but I always check messages and I always return my calls, although it may take a day (if I don’t check messages till late in the evening).

Now Saturday Night guy (SNG) knows that. I already told him that. And when he asked why I didn’t answer my phone, I told him again. I think I even told him a third time. (I really hate repeating myself, too.) And on Saturday night, when things ended strangely, he called me TWICE on my way home. Left messages both times. I called him back from my driveway, and he asked/accused, “I left you 2 messages. I thought you weren’t picking up because you knew it was me!” AARRGGHH! When I reminded him that my ringer is never on, he asked, “So that’s how it’s always going to be?? That’s just how it is, huh?” I responded that if it was good enough for my FAMILY, it was going to have to be good enough for everyone else. Grrr.

Anyway, I sent the e-mail Monday, and he called and left a message on Tuesday. He left it late, so I figured I’d call him back Wednesday, but forgot that I was supposed to go out with my cousin. So I sent another e-mail Thursday morning, and said I’d try and get hold of him that night.

(Edit: I know I’m being way too nice about this. I really can’t help it. ::::sigh::::)

I called last night, got his machine, left a message. He called me back late. TWICE. Within FIFTEEN minutes. I got the messages as I was getting ready for bed. The first one was an “I got your message” message. The second one was to say that he had unblocked his number, so it should show up in my display. He figured that was why I hadn’t picked up the first time, but now I could see it, so why didn’t I pick up? Luckily for him he answered his own question . . . “Unless . . . I guess maybe your phone isn’t on . . . .” Ding, ding, ding! Tell him what he’s won, Bob!! ARGH!

So I’ll call him back tonight. My grandma’s old Southern manners won’t let me NOT return a call. (Fortunately they don’t prevent me from being snide and sarcastic on my blog! LOL)

Oh, and that first message from Tuesday? The following are some of the gems from that message:
  • He thinks he’s trying to teach me something if I want to be taught. He’s trying to help me to be more open.
  • He doesn’t dump or abandon people so quickly, thinking he knows them from just one night.
  • He knows me better than I know myself. [Especially amusing, considering the statement just above this one.]
  • As far as not being able to hold back, move slower, he’s very much a person who respects people’s space – but he’s a man. Not that that means he expects everything to go his way. [WTF?]
  • Gave me lots of space: allowed [ALLOWED?] me to tell him he had a big personality.
  • Allowed [there’s that word again!] me to decide not to see the movie we were going to.

Actually, that conversation went like this:
Him: I know we just got our food, and we’re having a great conversation, but we should probably go to the movie if we want to make the show.
Me: Ok. Would you rather stay here? I’m not hung up on the movie.
Him: Do YOU want to stay here?
Me: I can do either one; I’m not invested in either one over the other.
Him: Well, let’s stay here, then! Wow, most girls get really hung up on the movie! [Because he’s a member of an LA movie club and so has advance screening tickets for movies that aren’t out yet, which is what we were going to see.]
I’m still not sure how that was MY decision that he ALLOWED me to make.

:::sigh:::: I’ll keep you posted. This is too entertaining not to. :P

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Emotional Spelunking and Well-Digging

I read somewhere that if you are an emotional eater, once you start losing weight you will hit certain weights that will be emotional watersheds. The idea behind this is that when you eat for emotional reasons, you’re stuffing your feelings deeper into your psyche instead of releasing them. So when you start losing the weight, you uncover those feelings again, and NOW you have to release them or you won’t lose any more weight. So if you weighed 150 and something traumatic happened, and you dealt with it by eating your way to 175, when you get back down to 150, you’ll have to actually deal with what happened before you’ll get down to 145. (I know it sounds weird. Chalk it up to my cereal-state, energy-medicine philosophy. LOL)

So. I lost 9.3 pounds a while back. I gained about a pound back almost right away, but then stopped. And I haven’t been eating very well, either. So I’m sitting at this weight, and I know there’s something emotional going on. Not only because my weight has stalled – and I mean really stalled: it doesn’t go up when I eat crap, it doesn’t go down when I eat well – but because my head is just constantly buzzing. I feel anxious, I don’t want to sleep even though I’m exhausted, I want to drink myself stupid, I want to eat chips and red vines until I’m sick to my stomach. And God forbid I do anything productive when I DO have time. :P I feel like I don’t have time to exercise and I’m too tired, but why am I too tired? From staying up late, gorging and drinking and reading trashy suspense novels. I could GO TO BED, for God’s sake. But I don’t. I don’t want to.

So I’m trying to figure out what it is that I’m supposed to be learning here. I’m wondering if I’m just in serious hand-to-hand, take-no-prisoners, fight-dirty, kick-‘em-in-the-balls combat with my inner saboteur. And I know that part of me comes out when I’m making changes that are good for me. It’s afraid of succeeding, you know. It’s the part of me that thinks, “If I don’t try, I’ll never fail” is a BRILLIANT life strategy! :P And then I eat too much and drink too much and stay up too late so that the next day I’m tired and sick and unable to accomplish anything. Even meditating seems too hard, and all that’s required of me for that is to SIT STILL!!! SITTING STILL SHOULD NOT BE TOO HARD!!!! What sense does THAT make? “I’m too tired to sit still.” WTF??? ::::rolls eyes::::

But last night I had the last 2 glasses of an expensive bottle of wine and the last of my baked chips. I’m now officially out of all the substances that I use to medicate myself, and I’m also conveniently broke for the next two weeks. I never thought I’d be glad to be broke, but in this case, I’m thanking God, lemme tell ya! Enforced discipline! LOL

So now I’m getting ready to gut it out for at least the next week or so, because that's about how long it will take to go through the REALLY insane period. The second week should get a little easier. I hope. I know from old experience that I’m about to become a crazy person, though; my mind is trying to run from itself, and I have nothing to medicate with, so I’ll be totally insane for a while here. I’m going to live in the “well.”

I heard someone speak once who was talking about wells in the Bible as metaphors for dark times. She pointed out several different types of wells, but the one that sticks with me right now is the dug well. Meaning a well you dug yourself into. And the thing that’s so complex and really wonderful about a dug well is that the very behaviors you used to dig your well are the things you are going to have to heal in order to get out of the well.

I wish I could say that I’m just sitting here in my well, but frankly at the moment, I’m just trying to stop digging deeper! I don’t think I’ve gotten to the sitting still part yet. LOL

I heard something else from that same speaker. She was talking about something that equated the shedding of a snake’s skin, the transformation of the snake, to our own transformation. And the interesting thing is that when a snake sheds its skin, it goes through a period where it’s not only raw, but it’s blind. It can’t see. And she was saying that we go through a period like that, too. And we get so scared that instead of sitting still and being willing to go through the blindness, we run around trying to “look cute. Instead of sitting in our well, getting our nourishment from the water, we’re out there selling lemonade! Giving away the very thing we need to heal!” Because we’re afraid to be blind. We don’t want to be alone in the dark of the well. But that’s the very thing we need to be doing in order to heal.


Well . . . this post was longer than I intended originally, and it probably meanders like nobody’s business. But it helped me clarify some of my own thoughts and that was kind of what I needed. So be advised that the next few posts may be the rantings of a crazy person, sitting in a well. Blind.

(I HATE this part. Can’t I just have my lesson NOW? Isn’t there an online course for this? LOL)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Always meet them for coffee first

Busy and stressed and tired. Story of my life lately. Even when I’m excited about stuff I’m busy and stressed and tired! What is THAT about?? LOL

I didn’t go in to work on Saturday morning like I was supposed to; I had a date the night before that ran late, and between that and the all-nighter I pulled last Wednesday, I was beat. I didn’t even wake up till 11, and usually I’m awake by 7:30, even on the weekends, and even without an alarm. :P So I went in to work for a few hours on Sunday and made it up that way. ::::sigh::::

In other news, I met a really cool guy off one of those dating sites. Hard to believe I know, but true! Ha! He lives about 40 minutes away from me, which I didn’t realize at the time we started talking though, and I do wish we lived closer. Once a week is about all we’re ever going to see each other unless he’s willing to drive to me during the week. Weekends we can switch off, but during the week I just don’t have time to make the drive. :P So we’ll see how it goes. He’s a good guy, and I like talking with him and spending time with him, but a lot of people want to see the person they’re dating more than once a week! LOL

So he and I got together on Friday night, and then I had another date on Saturday night, which didn’t go nearly as well. I actually thought about cancelling the Saturday night date, just because things had gotten a little intense with the Friday night guy, and I’m not someone who enjoys dating multiple guys at once. But I’d made the commitment, and figured I’d go and see how it went.

So this is the story of Saturday Night Guy, and why you should always meet blind dates for coffee first.

Ahem. First off, let me say that now I remember why I don’t date other actors. We are too high-maintenance. I include myself in that; I know I’m a high-maintenance person to date. And I know that 2 high-maintenance people (which means almost all actors) should NOT date each other. But . . . we had talked on the phone a few times, and although he seemed a little intense and hyper, our conversations were good. And I didn’t get any weird, “I’m-a-violent-psycho” vibe, and my “crazy radar” is better than most people’s. He was a little intense and hyper, like I said, but he didn’t seem dangerous.

So I left on Saturday about 6, and as I got on the freeway at 6:15 (I was supposed to meet him at his place between 6:30 and 7), I remembered that I was supposed to call him when I left. Oops. So I called and said I was getting on the freeway and should be there in about 15 minutes. No problem, he says. Sure enough, I call in to his apartment at 6:30 or so, and he’s all flustered. “I didn’t think you’d get here so fast. [I said 15 minutes, right? Right.] I haven’t even showered or anything . . . um, I’ll buzz you in, and if you don’t mind waiting downstairs, I’ll hurry up and get ready.” So he buzzes me in, meets me outside his apartment, and I size him up and figure if he tries anything, I can take him.

I wait downstairs while it takes him 40 minutes to get ready. FORTY minutes. No joke. Now, I’m a girl, and even I can shower, fix my hair and put my makeup on in less than 40 if I have to. And he’s got a shaved head and NO makeup!! WTF takes 40 minutes?? Especially since he was the one that had said, “between 6:30 and 7:00.” By the time he was ready to go, it was almost 7:30! But I wasn’t that worried about it at the time; lord knows I’ve been a pain in the ass like that on occasion, so I shrugged it off. Except that he kept saying, “Don’t be mad. I know you’re mad. Don’t be mad.” I finally told him I wasn’t mad, but that if he kept harping on it I was going to GET mad! LOL

When he finally gets downstairs, he hands me a CD that he just burned for me. Now. First of all, we had already had a conversation on the phone about how I’m just not comfortable accepting things from people I don’t know well. And by “people I don’t know well” I mean “people who are not my family or VERY close friends.” So I’m a little taken aback. Plus, he just burned it. Which means that while I’m waiting downstairs for him to get ready for dinner (and I’m starved, because I haven’t eaten yet), he’s burning a CD!!!! Seriously, if you’re that late, forget the CD. Just get dressed and let’s go! Geez, again. PLUS, burning a CD has always struck me as one of those things that you do for people whose music tastes you know pretty well, when you want to show them that you’ve spent some time thinking about them. It just seemed a little weird for a first meeting. I dunno. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s that neurotic about it, but since we’d TALKED about it already, I was kind of weirded out.

So we go to dinner. And the intense hyper-ness that I’d noticed on the phone and thought was just due to nerves or wanting to make a good first impression? SO much worse in person. Plus he kept touching me. Nothing sexual, but much friendlier than a first date. Really, when was the last time you walked to a date’s car on a first date, and he reaches out, puts his arm around you and then hugs you in really close? Not some flirty little hug that says, “Hey, you’re really cute, and I’m glad to meet you,” either. I’m talking a close, tight hug that says, “Hey, I just switched deodorants, bury your face in my armpit and tell me what you think!”

Anyway, the rest of the date pretty much continued along those lines. He said as we went into dinner, “I don’t think you like me,” and I answered, “No, it’s not that; you’re just a little overwhelming in person, and we’re both trying to find our balance.” Maybe that wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, but since what I really wanted to say was, “Get OFF me, for God’s sake!” I thought I showed remarkable restraint! LOL Over dinner he told me (rather dramatically) that I had hurt his feelings when I said he was overwhelming: “I’ve heard that before, but I thought I could be MYSELF with you!” ::::sigh:::: He also interrupted me every few minutes (on the rare occasions that I got a word in edgewise), psychoanalyzed me to death (incorrectly most of the time), and asked me the same questions more than once because he hadn’t listened when I answered them the first 3 times. Grrr.

He finally stopped grabbing me at dinner (after I told him flat out to lay off), although as we left, he made it a point to tell me every 2 minutes, “I’d put my arm around you now, but you said not to.” “I really want to kiss you, but I know you want your space.” “I’d hold your hand, but you said no, so I won’t.” EVERY. TWO. MINUTES. I think he said something along those lines at least 3 times before we even got back to the car.

(He even said, “I know women sometimes think I seem desperate, but I’m not.” LOL Actually though, I don’t think he was desperate; I think he was NEEDY. Desperate will date anyone because they’re afraid to be alone; needy won’t date just anyone, but when they do date someone, they’ll suck the life right out of you because they feel like life has “done them wrong” and they need someone to lean on. That’s been my experience, anyway: desperate = lonely. Needy = victim.)

After dinner we went to his local hang-out and had a drink. I only finished about half my drink, and I didn’t leave it sitting around. Too many alarm bells going off at that point. None that screamed, “Danger! Run!” but a few that quietly chimed, “Be careful . . . something’s not right.” You know that feeling? When something’s just a little . . . off, and you can’t quite put your finger on it, and you can totally rationalize how it’s all in your head?

We got back to his parking complex and got out of the car. I said I had to work the next day (which I did), and said I should probably get going. He was all set to have me up to the apartment, even telling me, “You’re just afraid to make out with me!” WTF? How OLD is this guy? (Mid-forties, just fyi.) Um, no, but it’s late, and I have to get up in 6 hours. (And hey, way to assume, buddy! It’s a first date! How do you know I even KISS on the first date, let alone “make oout???”) Gotta go.

So he swoops in to kiss me goodnight – I don’t move my head away in time, and so WHAM! I get kissed. Now, we’ve all been kissed. There’s a whole rhythm to it. And I think it’s fairly common sense that you don’t go in for that first kiss and immediately shove your tongue into someone’s TONSILS, for God’s sake!! Ew, ew, ew, ew!! Well, I backed off like I’d been hit with a baseball (which was kind of how it felt), and hustled back to my car. As I’m going, he’s calling, “See, you’re just afraid of our chemistry! I know you felt it, too!”

Holy fuck. “I know you felt it, too.” When he said that, it was the first time I actually got a little scared (as opposed to worried or concerned). I think we’ve all met those guys. The guys who you know on some level would wind up raping you and thinking it was consensual. That was TOTALLY the vibe I got off that. And even though I knew I could take him, it’s still not a situation you want to be in to begin with. So I got the hell out of there and thanked God I’d dodged that bullet.

I have to admit that I’m surprised I didn’t pick up on the “crazy” factor faster, though. I’m usually pretty on top of that. That’s what I get for not insisting on meeting for coffee before having a “real date.” If I had met him in person (for coffee), I wouldn’t have gone out with him again (for dinner). ::::sigh::::

So back to my tried-and-true coffee dates (aka “crazy” screenings,) and the guys who don’t like it can bite me. But not literally. LOL

On the other hand, I’ll be seeing FRIDAY night guy again later this week! Woo-hoo!

This whole thing just made me think of that scene in the movie "Tootsie" where Dustin Hoffman is live on air playing the head nurse at a hospital. S/he's talking to Geena Davis about the lecherous doctor on staff who just grabbed Davis, and Hoffman (in a genteel Southern accent) is saying something like, "You know, I'm just going to get every nurse on this floor a cattle prod so they can carry it around and when he tries anything they can just zap him in his you-know-what! [Picks up phone] Hello, operator? Can you get me the listings for farm equipment?"


Thursday, June 22, 2006

Busier and busier - with an almost-agent!

Geez, things have been busy!

Over the weekend my mom came to visit, so that was cool – we got to spend some time together, hanging out.

Sunday was mostly spent doing laundry and that kind of stuff.

Monday I was at work at 6am, because I had a production job on a film shoot out of town the next two days and had to leave by 3 Monday afternoon. So I worked 6-3 and then drove down to Temecula to have a belated Father’s Day with the family.

Tuesday and Wednesday I worked on an industrial shoot, which was so easy and low-key. God, that was nice. I really like the people who work these shoots. It’s a husband and wife who run their own production company: she directs, and he shoots. They’re such cool people – no one screams or yells, they always feed us well and they always pay us well. This time they rented a motor home so that we had someplace to go during lunch (often, the corporation being filmed lends us a conference room, but it’s not the same).

Anyway, I got back late last night, and as I was getting ready for bed, there was another one of those GIANT FUCKING BLACK SPIDERS on the ceiling above my bed! Took me half an hour to chase it down to a reachable spot and catch it. I took it outside, went back upstairs, brushed my teeth and was getting ready to turn out the light when I saw ANOTHER ONE in almost EXACTLY the same spot! And this one was bigger. So after another half hour, I got that one out, but when I went back upstairs, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the bed! So I ended up staying up all night on the computer. :P

I was a little tired today, needless to say. ::::sigh::::

I’ve been taking this commercial acting class, and I really like it. I had planned on taking the advanced classes too, and I was asking the teacher if he’d take a look at my agency mailing list and let me know what he thought. I also wanted to know if I could submit with HIS agency, which is relatively new, but is starting to book some good jobs. Well, come to find out if I take the advanced class (which I was already planning on doing, anyway), I automatically am offered a contract with his agency!

At first I thought it sounded a little sketchy, so I Googled him and his agency, but everything’s legit. He did make the comment that the reason he took all his advanced students in was because A) since his agency is small, he doesn’t have too many of any one “look” yet, and B) he figures that if he’s trained you, he knows you have the skill to book the jobs. You don’t HAVE to take the class to be represented, though; he represents people who have just come in and auditioned, too (which made me feel better).

Sooooooo . . . . one way or another, I have a commercial agent at the end of July! Which was on my list of goals!!! Wheeeeeeee! ::::happy dance, happy dance::::

Friday, June 16, 2006

I lost 9.3 POUNDS!!!!!

::::happy dance, happy dance:::: Woo-hoo! I’m losing weight! Even a little bit! Yay! (If I had that cool dancing smiley icon, I’d put it here! So just imagine it, rocking out!)

Of course, what’s a little success without a little sabotage, right? So I came home from my meeting the other night and pretty much ate ALL my extra (flex) points for the week. And what I didn’t eat that night, I finished off last night. Plus two. Meh.

BUT . . . I keep reminding myself that one or even two nights of OOPS! isn’t going to put all that weight back on me. At least not right away. So now I’m trying to stay within my daily points the rest of the week. That part kind of sucks, because Friday and Saturday nights are the nights when I hang out with my friends (unless I just decide to go to bed. I’m exciting like that.). It’s harder to stay within your points when you’re all sitting around drinking and eating. :P On the plus side, though, my friends are actors, too, so we’re all weight-conscious. So I can say, “Nah, I’m trying to drop some weight,” and rather than give me a hard time about it, they say, “Oh, yeah, I totally understand. I should watch mine, too. Why don’t we all eat veggies and hummus instead of chips?” And then I feel all happy, because I still feel like part of the gang!

That’s a little weird, isn’t it? That I feel like if I just abstain from the chips, I’m somehow on the outside? ::::sigh:::: I’m working on that . . . .

(Hey, you know what? I lost 9.3 POUNDS!!!!!! ::::happy dance, happy dance:::)

I think that I feel weird about not eating because we’re a bunch of girls, and consciously or unconsciously, in this culture we equate food with love. If someone feeds you, they love you. And when you turn down food, people feel personally slighted, as though you’ve declined not just their food, but their love too. Especially stuff that comes from family: just TRY turning down Great Aunt Mabel and see what happens! LOL

(Hey, you know what? I lost 9.3 POUNDS!!!!!! ::::happy dance, happy dance::::)

And I have this compulsive need to be liked and approved of, at least by people that *I* like and approve of. I read somewhere that everyone has an inner child, but that there are different types of inner children. There are abandoned children, nature children, magical children, eternal children, and on and on. I’m an abandoned one, at least internally. I never experienced familial abandonment, but I was HATED in school, and it really affected me. So now I’m always looking for familial relationships with my friends, my co-workers, etc. When I lived in San Diego, I TURNED DOWN auditions because my workplace “needed me.” It didn’t; I just didn’t want to be disapproved of.

So I think that’s where the insecurity around not eating with my friends comes from. In fact, I usually eat MORE than other people, because hey, food is love, right? And I love you guys! Let me prove it by eating WAY more than I should!

God, I’m a dork sometimes! LOL

(But, you know what? I lost 9.3 POUNDS!!!!! ::::happy dance, happy dance::::)

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Chaos reigns

I haven’t felt like writing the last few days. Things have been not just busy, but totally chaotic. Last night I think 90% of the chaos finally resolved, but I’ve been so stressed out and anxious that when I realized it’s mostly (almost) over, I just felt sick. Does that make sense? When you’re busy as hell, and you know you’re tired and stressed and overworked, but the busy-ness just keeps coming and you HAVE to deal with it. So you push yourself and push yourself and push yourself, and finally, when it’s all over you go to bed thinking, “Thank God, I made it.” But sometime in the night your body says, “You need REST, bitch!” and the next morning you’re sick as a dog.

Today I feel sick as a dog. I don’t actually have a virus or anything as far as I can tell, but my stomach is upset, my head aches and I’m just generally exhausted. :P FOOD even sounds gross, and lemme tell ya, if I don’t want to eat, I’m in a bad way! LOL

See, I’ve been staying with my grandma for the last year. They have a huge house, but they also have 10 kids, so it’s usually a full house. It’s a rare weekend when someone isn’t visiting. I had actually found someplace new to live (in Brentwood, which is a nice area), so when termites invaded the room I’d been staying in, I just moved my stuff up to my grandma’s room (temporarily, I thought). (Grandma’s sick and can’t climb stairs, so the kids converted the living room into a bedroom for her – she hates it, as you can imagine, and I think they’re going to move her upstairs again at the urging of hospice. Thank God.) Three months later, I’m still in Grandma’s room, and the room I was supposed to rent is still not ready. The guy wanted to fix it up: new paint, new carpet, add some shelves, etc. That was cool with me, but I didn’t figure it would take longer than 6 weeks at the outside, since he had a couple of guys working for him. Well, as of last Saturday, the room has been painted. Period. The rest of the house looks great: repainted, cleaned out, new curtains, etc. But the room I’m supposed to rent? Not ready.

So over the weekend I started looking again. I didn’t really want to pay more than $350, simply because I’m trying to pay off some credit cards and on top of that, the business end of acting is expensive (pictures, envelopes, postage to mail them out, etc.). I’d also like to be able to take an acting class or two, and the cheap ones run about $200 a month. So I figured if I kept my rent low, I could get the other stuff done without freaking out about how I was going to make rent. In the last week I’ve seen several places, ranging from a really nice house in a crack-den part of town to a relatively safe neighborhood with a creepy homeowner (with whom I’d be sharing a bathroom). It’s been crazy; some days I’ve gotten off work and seen 2 or 3 places afterward.

On top of that, I’m trying like hell to get my headshots mailed out to agencies, so I can get an agent. It’s been completely chaotic.

The other night I was talking to my dad though, and we started talking about the possibility of staying in Grandma’s house and paying rent for one of the nicer rooms upstairs. I’d have a nice room, a private bath, space in the kitchen, washer / dryer in the house, all that jazz. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, with shopping and restaurants nearby. So I think I’m going to do that. I’ll pay them $300 a month, and although the downside is that I’m still in Grandma’s house, the upside is all of the above. I don’t think I’m going to find anything this nice for $300, and the family needs the money (medical bills), so it’ll work out well for everyone.

And once I get my agent, I’m working to get a national commercial before Christmas. At that point, I’ll move out but I’ll be able to afford my own apartment. It might just be a studio, but it’ll be my own space! I can’t wait for that. ::::wistful sigh:::: (I used to have a townhouse in San Diego, and although the rent was high enough that I was always stressed about how I was going to afford groceries, it was SO nice to have my own space; I miss it a LOT. I even liked living by myself.)

So it has been really chaotic, but it looks like it’s finally going to start calming down. Whew. Now I just have to not get sick from the emotional letdown.

Friday, June 09, 2006

How to look thinner in pictures!

I think Blogger must have a limit on the number of pictures you can post per, um, post. I keep getting this far and then it won't let me upload any more. So to see the non-round-face pictures, scroll back down to the headshots a few posts below. :)

That said, take a look at those pictures in the "Little Help Here" post. If you have anything resembling a double chin, or even just a wimpy jaw line (I've got a little bit of a double chin, myself), the first thing you want to do is think about stretching the back of your neck really long, and dropping your shoulder blades down into your back. As you do that, your chin will automatically drop down just a little bit. At that angle, your neck looks longer, but you still look like you have a little bit of a double chin, so move your whole head forward - NOT down, but FORWARD, toward the camera. Imagine your chin sitting on a table, and slide it along that table. It also helps if you turn your head slightly to the side: it creates a stronger jawline, visually speaking. If you look at the blue "Little Help Here" picture, you can see how tight the muscles in my neck are, from doing exactly that: This definitely takes some practice before you stop looking like a reject from the psycho ward, but it's TOTALLY worth it

As a contrast, here are a couple of pictures where I forgot to hold my head properly - see the round face?

A pink one:

And a (VERY round) blue one (note the NOT tight neck muscles - I turned my head, but didn't elongate my neck or drop my shoulders):

So hold your head at an angle, drop your chin, stretch the BACK of your neck, drop your shoulder blades and slide your head forward a little. When you feel totally uncomfortable and unnatural, congratulations! That's it! LOL

Now on to full-body shots. The same head rules apply, but now you also have to deal with the rest of your body. :P When someone is taking your picture, stand with your torso directly to the camera, but angle your lower half about 45 degrees and put one foot in front of the other. The angle does two things: one, it visually gives you more of a waist, since you're turning at the waist, and two, the foot-in-front-of-the-other technique (a time-honored Hollywood pose; Renee Zellweger can't NOT do it!) creates a visually slimming line through your hips and thighs. See?

In this first picture, it doesn't totally look like my hips are angled, even though they are. You can kind of tell though, because my shirt is pulling across my chest at an odd angle.

In this (lower) one, I was leaning against a fence, making the pose a little harder to pull off, but it didn't wind up looking COMPLETELY stupid. Although it does look a little uncomfortable. Oops:

Oh, well. What are you gonna do? LOL

So there it is, in a nutshell. Definitely practice before you attend the next big family gathering, though. Otherwise instead of everyone telling you how photogenic you are, they'll all be asking what the hell you were DOING in that picture! LOL

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Posing skinny

Still can't post pictures. I got halfway through and blogger crashed on me. :P I'll try again later. ::::sigh::::

"Deep Thoughts" (No, really.)

Anyone remember those? "Deep Thoughts" by Jack Handy? I think it was an old SNL joke . . .

Triple-posting today. I have a lot on my mind, and it’s not all connected. So 2 posts, plus pictures later.

Just FYI: if you are a member of a 12-step group, you might want to skip this post. I have some things I need to vent about, and you won’t like them one bit. (And yes, I have extensive experience with these groups, so I know whereof I speak.) There is also some God stuff in here, although I’m not necessarily Christian, and I don’t care if you are or not. Everybody’s got their own path, so if you’re an atheist or a pagan or an evangelical and it’s working for you, good for you! Really. I’m not being sarcastic, although I know that’s hard to believe. ;) What is that disclaimer they put on DVD interviews? “The opinions expressed herein are solely the opinions of the people interviewed and do not represent the opinions of Big Movie Company in any way.” Or something like that. Same principle.

Anyway . . .

I’m pretty sure I’m an alcoholic. If I’m not, I’m well on my way. And I know why: as hard as I’ve been trying to deal with the emotions behind the food issues, I’m not really trying as hard as I should be. So I’ve been in the process of swapping one addiction (food or the lack thereof) for another (drinking). I guess I could be a skinny lush, but since more than one or two drinks generally trigger a binge, I won’t be skinny; I’ll be a fat lush, and in that case I might as well just stick to the bingeing! LOL

I’ve already been through therapy. I’ve already been to the OA (Overeaters Anonymous) meetings, and there are a LOT of people in my family who are part of AA. I know what my problems are intellectually and intellectually I know how to fix them. I wish it were that easy. :P

Here’s my thing with 12-step groups: I think they’re a great tool, but not the whole answer. It’s like needing to cross a river: the 12-step group is the boat that helps you across, but at some point, in order to move on with your life, you have to GET OUT OF THE BOAT. If you want to cross the river, you can’t just stay in the boat, bobbing around forever. In a way, a 12-step group can become an addiction in itself (in my experience).

I really started feeling this way when I went to OA. The whole idea that I was sick and could never get well just didn’t sit right with me. I could see the sickness, but not the “no cure.” And those people were nuts (so much for my “no judgment” resolution! LOL). They’d plan out what they were going to eat the next day, and if for their 3PM snack they had an apple instead of the pickle they had planned, that was BAD and OUT OF CONTROL. Frankly, that didn’t seem all that different from my anorexic attitudes in college. I went to a few meetings in a few different places, but just didn’t see how continuing to beat myself up, telling myself I was a sick victim and exercising freakish control attitudes were going to help me.

I think trying to apply the principle of a 12-step group to eating is tough though, because in AA or NA you “just” cut the substance out of your life. I guess you can do that with food too, but anorexia isn’t really something to aspire to. :P So you can’t just hide from the addiction to food. You have to face it head on, stare it down, dig deep into the dark well of your unconscious and clean it out, dragging all the detritus into the light of day to be examined and discarded. That’s how you heal. Not by hiding. Not by swapping one addiction for another.

Did you know that 90% of “recovering” alcoholics have what is clinically considered an addiction to sugar? And that in many ways, sugar does the same thing to your brain chemicals that alcohol does? That’s not the kind of recovery I want: swapping sugar for alcohol or alcohol for food or whatever for whatever-else. YOU’RE STILL HIDING FROM YOUR PROBLEMS. I’m tired of hiding.

So I’m not going to AA. I DON’T believe that I can never regain control of my behavior. I DON’T believe that treating the symptom of drinking will make the problem of hiding go away. I DON’T believe that I am sick, a victim of circumstance, a “poor baby” who is misunderstood by the world. I DON’T BELIEVE IT. I CHOSE THIS. I CAN CHOOSE SOMETHING ELSE.

Now. I know that not all AA people feel this way. I don’t believe that when Bill W and Dr. Bob started the program that they meant it to become a banner for victimhood. I think that used sensibly and responsibly and with a willingness to examine your inner life it can be a great thing. But 99% of the AA and OA people I know (I don’t know any NAs, so I can’t speak of them) have embraced their victimhood with a passion. I DON’T WANT TO BE A VICTIM.

So with that in mind . . .

I’ve been going to this church. (I swear this is not a tangent, although it may take me a while to tie it back into alcoholism and food. Bear with me.) It’s a Religious Science church, which is NOT Christian Science or Scientology. RS actually came out of the teachings of Thoreau and Emerson, as distilled by Ernest Holmes. (This is where I TOTALLY fit in with the Cereal State! LOL) The basic tenets are:

  • We are not “children” of God. We are MANIFESTATIONS of God.
  • As manifestations of God, we all have the potential to become Buddhas and Christs – it just depends on how much work you’re willing to do.
  • Since God is everywhere, omnipresent and omni-active, God is WITHIN us as well as outside us. We are part of God and God is part of us.
  • Our purpose in life is to overcome our egos and allow God to live as us, through us, which means that we are to become windows of peace, love, gratitude and forgiveness. (Think Dalai Lama, Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed, Abraham, Krishna, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr, etc)
  • Heaven and Hell are states of mind: Heaven is when you live in the peace and awareness of God, and Hell is when you allow your ego, your judgment, your fears to block the flow of God and create stagnation in your life.
  • ALL the religions have the same basic ideas and as such are equally valid: Love everyone. Practice radical forgiveness. Be grateful. Don’t judge anyone.

There’s plenty more (as in any religion), but you get the general idea.

So I’ve been listening to a lot of these sermons on CD. And I know that all my bingeing and hiding and drinking and running away is due to the fact that I am TERRIFIED. Of what, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s everything. I’m afraid of failing, because what will I do then? I’m afraid of succeeding, because everyone will expect so much more from me and what if I can’t do it and I fail? I’m afraid of losing my excuses: “I don’t have an agent because I don’t weigh 12 pounds.” I’m simultaneously terrified of losing my victimhood and sick of living with it. I’m afraid of the voices in my head telling me I’m not good enough, smart enough, thin enough, blond enough, tall enough, young enough, self-disciplined enough, strong enough, tan enough. Sometimes I just want to mainline a bottle of wine and 2 pints of ice cream just to make them SHUT UP. Sometimes I do mainline a bottle of wine and 2 pints of ice cream for just that reason. But the next morning they’re always back, and with new ammo, because NOW I’ve had a bottle of wine and 2 pints of ice cream! Now I’m REALLY not thin enough, self-disciplined enough or strong enough.

I had been meditating and doing yoga regularly, and I was doing better. I was listening to a sermon every day and it was getting easier to remember that all those fears and voices are just the panicked, dying cries of an ego. The ego, you know, doesn’t understand the difference between transformation and annihilation. So when you try to transform, it gets scared. I was doing well, though, because I would hear those voices and I was getting to a point where I could deal with them calmly, knowing what they were and that it was ok to be panicked and scared. Knowing that I didn’t have to hide from them.

Then I started “losing weight.” For me, that is my ego’s foot in the door. The drive to be something different than myself, to be something better, something ELSE just activates all those panicked voices, and I forget that those voices are transitory. I lost sight of having more energy and being ok with my body the way it was, NO MATTER WHAT. As soon as I lost sight of that, ironically, I stopped losing weight. Funny how that works. Real funny. Ha . . . Ha. :P

So it’s time to take a deep breath and remember that drinking and plowing through ice cream are simply responses to fear. Various fears that basically boil down to one: what if I’m not good enough the way I am? And then I have to remember that if I am a manifestation of God, a unique and divine way that God is expressing itself on the planet, then I AM ALWAYS GOOD ENOUGH. I just have to be willing to sit in stillness and listen and remember. (The Reverend at my church likes to say, “Remember to remember!” LOL)

So I have a list of circumstantial goals at home on my bathroom mirror: when I want an agent by, when I want my union card by, that kind of stuff. But I have to remember to include goals like meditating every day and reading something that’s good for my soul every day. I’m learning to juggle my internal development with my external development; I can do one or the other, but both is tough. Obviously it has to be done though, because doing one at a time hasn’t worked very well so far; they’re too interconnected.

And I know from experience that if I do that inner work, the addictions fall away. It’s weird. And when I stop doing the inner work, about 2 weeks later I’m back to the addictions. Not just addictions to substances, either - addictions to attitudes, too. I get caught up in judgment and victimization really fast.

So . . . inner work. Meditate every day and read or listen to something good for my soul every day. I can do this. I have to do this. The alternatives aren’t pretty.

I need some sleep

Triple-posting today. I have a lot on my mind, and it’s not all connected. So 2 posts, plus pictures later.

I am so tired. My uncle and his wife were in CA (actually ARE in CA until noon today), and I really wanted a chance to see them. They live in Georgia, but both their families are out here. When Aunt K married Uncle M, she told him that the only way she was moving to GA was if they flew out here every year for her birthday because there are multiple late May/early June birthdays in her family, and every year they have a HUGE bash. So that’s what they do. :)

So they flew out for her party on Sunday and then went to my parents’ house Monday. They fly out of LAX today. Originally I wasn’t going to get a chance to see them, but my uncle has cancer and although he still looks good and is functioning, none of the treatments are working. He has a rare type of thyroid cancer for which the prognosis is 5 years at the outside (he’s at 4 ½ now), and the survival rate is zero. Yup, you read it right: zero. No one in the medical literature who has ever had this cancer has beaten it. No one. Ever. Soooooo . . . he’s been doing a lot of alternative stuff (which is a whole ‘nother story), but the bottom line is that he probably won’t make it. (Unless he makes some radical changes that he doesn’t want to make, which is part of the “whole ‘nother” story. I’m a little bitter about that, and trying really hard to remember that it’s his life, and they are his choices. Some days I do better than other days.)

So he and his wife were visiting my parents and I decided yesterday to leave work a little early, drive down for dinner and drive back. (My parents are about an hour and half from where I live.) So I left around 3, got into the area by 4:30 (missed traffic! Woo-hoo!), picked up birthday cards for my aunt & uncle and went home for dinner. I had planned on leaving around 8:00, figuring that would put me home by half-past nine, and I could still get a good night’s sleep. I was finally getting ready to leave at 8:30 when my mom (bless her heart) chirped, “Tell M & K about your commercial class and working!” Honestly, I LOVE my mom and we usually get along really well, but at that moment I could have shot her. I did not want to be driving home at 10:00 and then try and get to work this morning by 7:00. Not. Enough. Sleep. :P But what was I going to do? It seemed rude to say, “Nope! Gotta run!” since M & K are here from GA and oh, I don’t know, HE’S DYING (probably). So I stayed for a while and we all talked, and I left about 9:30. Got home by 11, asleep by 12, up again at 5:30. I’ll be napping today. (I better never have kids; I’d have to kill them just to get some sleep! LOL)

Monday, June 05, 2006

Blogspot hates me

Ok, I was going to post about how to look thinner in pictures, but for some reason my example pictures (the good and the bad! LOL) aren't uploading tonight. :P I'll try again tomorrow.

In the meantime, I went to Disneyland on Friday for my birthday, and I got the most wicked case of heat exhaustion I've had in a long time. I'm prone to overheating, so I'm usually pretty careful, but my body has definitely NOT adapted yet to the summer weather we're suddenly getting. So by 4:00 I was dragging. I left early, around 8, and STILL had trouble making it home. The headache finally went away last night, but I'm still tired. I keep drinking juice and Gatorade, but it's definitely slower going than usual. On the other hand, I'm not at all hungry, so this ought to be a great weigh-in week! (I'm kidding, I'm kidding.)

Anyway, I'm going to bed. I'll try again with those pictures tomorrow. :)

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Little help here

Ok, so my birthday was yesterday (woo-hoo!) and although I could give two shits about my age, Hollywood feels differently. So I have (almost) decided to start lying about it. With that in mind, I have my headshots above (and by "headshots" I mean pictures. Get your mind out of the gutter! ;D). The one in pink is my main shot that I am sending out to agencies; the one in blue is the backup shot, so when they ask me, "Do you have a different look?" I can say, "Why, yes. Yes, I do. " Please take a look at them and WITHOUT CHECKING MY REAL AGE tell me how old you think I might be. Please don't worry about offending me; you won't, even if you guess older. I just want to know how much younger (if at all) I can claim to be. :)

Thanks in advance!

And please excuse any spelling or grammar errors; it's late and I've had a couple of drinks with my sister. (Hey lay off, it's my damn birthday! ;D)

Online dating in the cereal state

I once heard someone refer to CA as the cereal state. Why? Because it’s full of fruits, nuts and flakes. Unfortunately, as much as I love my home state, I think the joke is true.

A while back I decided to try online dating. Now THERE’S an experience, kids. One that will make your standards so low so fast that someone who can use proper punctuation and has all his limbs attached to the right body parts suddenly looks like Brad Pitt with Einstein’s brain!! ::::sigh::::

I signed up for a couple of free online dating sites, but a while back I went on hiatus. My schedule had gotten to the point that I just didn’t have more than one or two free evenings in a month, and most people would like to date someone at least a LITTLE more often than that. But I left my profiles up because on one site I had some friends in the forums and on another site there were all these entertaining tests you could take to kill time. However, as soon as I posted that I was no longer dating, men started coming out of the woodwork! Seriously, my inbox messages tripled. It was ridiculous.

Most of them I politely decline with a rote message along the lines of, "Thanks for the message, but as you can see in my profile, my schedule is really busy and I just don't have time to date anyone at the moment." The really vulgar ones I just delete, but the rest I answer. I figure it's just good manners. About half of them just boggle my mind, though. I usually answer politely, all the while wondering, "What the HELL were you thinking when you wrote that??"

So for the sake of my own frustration, here are six of the most entertaining messages I've gotten so far:

Number six:

"do you have webcam?"

Ummmm, I’m gonna go with NO on that one. Definitely. Definitely NO.

Number five:

"my email is send me an email and i’ll send u sum pix"

Another one for the “Oh, HELL, no!” pile. Cock pictures, anyone?

Number four:


That’s it. No other info. No questions that I could answer to start a conversation, even if I were so inclined. Geez.

Number three (after I politely turned him down):

"Believe it or not I actually designed my profile here mainly to draw attention to my main profile on, where some of my writing is hosted. Not my screenplays, mainly musings about Life & LOVE and Wisdom of The Ancient Ones. And perhaps, not looking a little deeper at my profile may not have been such a smart move."

Wow, I really let a catch slip through my fingers! Um, the "Wisdom of The Ancient Ones?" Is he a Scientologist? And here's what you really want to do to someone who has just politely declined your advances: tell them they're dumb. And that you didn't even INTEND to get a date when you signed up on a dating site and SENT ME AN E-MAIL!! Yeah, that'll show me. Lordy.

Number two:

"Hi, I see from your profile that you are intellegent. I too, am very smart. I enjoy quoting Shakesphere and reading poetry. You definitely don’t want to get into a debate with me, though! No offense, kiddo, but you’d be in way over your head! "

Where do I begin? In 5 sentences he manages to misspell Shakespeare and intelligent (that one always slays me), and insult me! What is it with the patronization (is that even a word)? The mind reels.

And my all-time favorite:

"WoW! U R SEXXXXXXXY!!!!!! aM I UR tYpE?? WoULd LoVe It If I wErE!!! WhAt Do YoU tHiNk? Am I HOT???? oR NOT????"

After I politely said thanks, but I’m not dating at all, he replied:

"Hm. busy schedule, I understand. But we r both adults with certain NEEDS, and I was wondering if u might want to meet and get to know 1 another on ANOTHER LEVEL, if you know what I mean?"

Subtle, don’t you think? Me, too. At least he StOpPeD wRiTiNg LiKe ThiS!!!!!

Kill me now.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Changing my perceptions

Isn’t it funny how sometimes one person’s opinion can make you take a second look at your own perceptions? And sometimes after reevaluating those perceptions you start to think that maybe you were mistaken, or at least that your perceptions have become outdated?

I have this crazy aunt. She hasn’t had an easy life, and she carries a lot of bitterness. A LOT. Lots of anger and rage. And sometimes, as you can imagine, she’s hard to be around. She is a master at saying things that make you go, “Wha . . . ??” As an example, she was mad when her sister came to stay with my grandparents and brought her dog (please bear in mind that Crazy Aunt doesn’t live with my grandparents). Not because the dog was a nuisance, or in the house, or any of those things (he’s old, doesn’t bark, doesn’t jump, and is an outside dog). No, she was mad because we had to close the driveway gate so the dog wouldn’t get out. Which meant we had to get out of the car to open and close the gate when we drove in and out. It was INCONVENIENT, she snarked. Didn’t I agree? I finally said that I figured that the dog wasn’t smart enough not to wander off, so I (as the smarter of the two) had the responsibility to watch out for it. I further observed that if I was running so late that I couldn’t spare 2 minutes, well, I was already too late and should have left 15 minutes earlier. That wasn’t the dog’s problem. But my aunt was still annoyed. She’s like that, bless her heart.

(Tangent: I LOVE the saying, “Bless her/his heart.” My Southern grandma used to say it, and it basically means you can call someone every horrible name you can think of, but if you bless their hearts at the end, you’re golden. No hard feelings and all that. LOL)

Anyway, this aunt had a big blowup with one of my grandparents’ in-home nurses, and a couple of other sisters came up to referee, hollered at Crazy Aunt and generally tried to smooth things over with the nurse.

Subsequently, my aunt was at some family gathering, talking to my mom, and the subject came up. Crazy Aunt said to my mom, “You know, I know I have anger issues, and I’m really trying to rein in my temper and learn more constructive ways of dealing with people. I’ve always had trouble communicating with others, and I’m really working on it. And in that situation, I really didn’t feel like I had been unreasonable; I even left the room because I was getting really mad and didn’t want to start yelling. But I was really hurt that my sisters came up and didn’t even ask me what happened; they just talked to the nurse and then yelled at me. I understand why they did it, why they assumed I was automatically at fault, but it still hurt.”

When my mom relayed that story back to me, it sort of took hold in my consciousness. It made me see Crazy Aunt with slightly more objectivity than before. And you know, she isn’t nearly as crazy as she used to be. I was so wrapped up in my old perceptions that I hadn’t seen what was really happening right in front of me. Don’t get me wrong, now: she’s still a nut, she still thinks she shouldn’t have to close the gate when she and her sister happen to be visiting at the same time, she still thinks bartenders are contributing to alcoholism and should all burn in Hell (it went over really well when I worked as a bartender for a while!).

But . . . when my other aunt needs a babysitter for her hellaciously ill-behaved child, Not-So-Crazy Aunt volunteers – and is incredibly patient. She called me today just to wish me Happy Birthday. When she gets frustrated she leaves the room until she can calm down. She knows that her frustration isn’t usually the other person’s fault – that’s a huge thing, right there! She’s calmer, she’s . . . . I don’t want to say “happy,” but certainly less UNhappy.

I wouldn’t have noticed any of this but for the conversation I had with my mom. I feel a little bad, and like I got a good reminder about clinging to old perceptions. I needed to remember that. So thanks to my Not-So-Crazy Aunt.

Friday, May 26, 2006

The Adventures of Spydra

The All-New, Totally True Adventures of Spydra, the Spider-Catching Queen of the Amazon!!

It’s 4AM. Yes, Virginia, there’s an AM. My alarm goes off, and I hit snooze, wondering what in the hell possessed me to think that getting up at 4 would be a good idea. I hit snooze a few more times, and finally drag my ass out of bed at 4:45. I stagger into the bathroom still bleary-eyed and sit with my head in my hands, wondering AGAIN why I thought this would be a good idea. As I reach for the toilet paper, for some reason I glance over at the roll. I don’t usually look at it – it’s not like it’s going to be in a different place from before, and I use the restroom often enough to know where the paper is without double-checking the location – but this morning I look. And thank God, because my hand freezes about 3 inches away from A GIANT FUCKING BLACK SPIDER half-hidden under the first sheet of paper on the roll. I half-successfully stifle a scream (I’m staying with my grandparents and I don’t want to wake them at 4:45 in the morning), and immediately lean as far away from the roll as I can without actually getting up from the toilet. I remain in this remarkably uncomfortable position for a minute or two, contemplating my options, none of which are terribly appealing. FINALLY I remember that I had stashed an extra roll behind the toilet the other day for God knows what reason, so I lean around, grab the roll and get the hell away from that spider as fast as I can.

Now I am standing in my bathroom, buck naked, contemplating the GIANT FUCKING BLACK SPIDER that has taken up residence on my toilet paper roll. Squashing is not an alternative: I hate the sound, I hate the mess and as a general rule I really do try not to kill things. I consider letting it live in the bathroom, but I wouldn’t want to step on it barefoot by accident, and frankly, it looks (in the admittedly poor light) like it might possibly be a black widow, which are relatively abundant in sunny SoCal. And there is NO WAY IN HELL I’m sharing space with a black widow. If push comes to shove I will have to kill it, just in case it IS a black widow, but I’d really rather not. I back slowly out of the bathroom, praying it’s not a jumping spider (which are harmless, except for the heart attack they give you when they JUMP AT YOU), and go looking for a “Spider-Catching Kit.”

(A Spider-Catching Kit is a Tupperware, a piece of paper and a thin hard piece of something else; a clipboard for instance, or the back of a notepad. You put the Tupperware over the spider, slide the paper underneath, then the hard piece of whatever, hold it all together really tightly, carry it outside, set it on the ground and remove the hard piece and the paper. When you can see the spider on the ground, you lift the Tupperware off of it and (this part is very important) RUN LIKE HELL.)

I find a wide-mouthed water bottle, and immediately discard it because I am too damn chicken to give myself that little “mess-up space” in case the damn thing runs. I find a slightly larger container, but I’m not sure it will fit on the roll without leaving a gaping space for the GIANT FUCKING BLACK SPIDER to run through – probably toward me. I test it out on the other roll of paper, and sure enough, there’s a good 2 inch gap for that thing to laugh at me right before it eats me. I head back into the bathroom to reconnoiter. Spider’s still there. Hasn’t moved. I really don’t want to kill it, but I really can’t tell if it’s harmless or not. ::::sigh:::: I throw on a pair of pants and a shirt and go looking for the Raid. If I can spray NEAR it, it might run, and then I could catch it. This is NOT what I want to be doing at 5AM.

Of course, it takes me ten minutes to find the Raid, and when I get back, guess what? That’s right. No spider. Fuckety-fuck-fuck. I check the floor, the walls and the ceiling (always my personal terror, that last one), but nothing. This is very bad. I can’t afford to let it live in the bathroom, and I’m now getting later and later for work. I consider the possibility that it is BEHIND the roll, but there doesn’t really seem to be that much space. The thing is, my grandparents live in an old house. It was built in ’29, so it has all kinds of features that you don’t see on houses out here anymore. One of these features is that all the toilet paper rolls are built into the wall. There’s a half-circle-shaped depression in the wall, and the paper is set into that, so that only about half the roll sticks out from the wall. It’s very cool. It’s also a great spider-hiding place. Fuck.

There is no way in hell I’m reaching over to spin the roll and risk having that thing launched through the air at me. I don’t think I could stifle that scream. Suddenly, I remember that my Grandma has 3 or 4 canes in the hall closet, because of her bad knee. I could use one of those to spin the roll! So I trot out to the closet and select the longest one I can find. I sneak back into the bathroom, contemplating the fact that my morning has been reduced to sneaking around a spider, stand as far from the roll as I can, reach waaaaaaaaay out with the cane, and spin the roll. It’s a pathetic attempt, but it’s enough to scare the spider, which runs out from the top of the roll, and down underneath it, back into the bottom half of the hole before I can grab the Raid. Dammit.

I look at the clock. An entire half-hour has elapsed since I got up. Jesus.

But now I know it’s in the roll-hole, and at least that’s something. I use the cane to lift the hand towel off the bar, because it’s RIGHT NEXT to the hole, and I don’t want the spider to run out and onto the towel. Then I spin the roll again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. These are much less pathetic attempts, and now I’m worried that it really ran somewhere else, and I missed it. Spin. Nothing. Spin. JACKPOT!!! Thereitgoesacrossthewall,getit,getit,getit!!!!!! FUCK!!!! I lost it!! I check under the sink, and behind the OTHER towel. Nothing! DAMN! As I stand up, THERE IT IS!!! ON THE WALL! IN A PERFECT PLACE TO CATCH WITH MY TUPPERWARE! WHERE DID I PUT THAT FUCKING TUPPERWARE?!?!?!!?! OO, OO! RIGHT THERE!!! ON THE SINK!!! I grab the Tupperware, and slam it down over the spider, which thankfully is neither a jumping spider nor a very fast runner (as spiders go). Under the Tupperware goes the back of the notepad, and I peel the whole shebang away from the wall. I can see the spider better now, and I’m almost disappointed that it is not, in fact, a black widow. It’s some brown and black thingy, although I don’t think it’s a recluse. I’m not in a desert-y enough area for those.

I carry it outside and let it go, all the while sternly admonishing it for scaring me and warning it just how close it came to a Raid-induced death. I'm sure I made quite an impression and it was probably very sorry. :P Then I race back upstairs to get dressed before I’m really late for work, since it's now almost 5:30, which is when I need to leave.

I did wait till I got to work to use the bathroom again, though. Just in case.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

This "Ranting Post" is sponsored by PMS

When I joined WW I told them I didn’t want them to say anything to me about what the number on the scale was, not even if it was up or down. Not because I didn’t know; I have a scale at home, so I pretty much know what my weight is (the scale sits on carpet, so I figure it’s probably one or two pounds off, but it’s in the general vicinity), but because I know how my body works. Here’s the thing: when I start working out, my body puts on muscle really fast. Not bulky muscle or anything like that, but I get really strong. Now as we all learned in science, muscle weighs a LOT more than fat. So usually, in the first couple of weeks on something like WW, I GAIN weight – generally between 3 and 7 pounds, which is a pretty significant amount. During that time, my measurements drop, so I know I’m doing ok, but I go to those meetings and the well-meaning weigh-in people say things like, “Don’t worry, you’ll do better next week.” It makes me NUTS!!! I want to scream, “SHUT UP! YOU’RE NOT HELPING, HERE!!! I’M LOSING FAT, DAMMIT – STOP PATRONIZING ME!!!!” Ahem. So if they can’t say anything to me about it, they don’t patronize me. I know they know. And I know that I know (although they don’t know I know – still with me?). But this way I can deal with things on my own terms.

I know better than to get on the scale more than once a week, though. If I get on once a week, I’m pretty ok with life. Twice a week is ok, too, but much more than that and it gets ugly really fast. But the scale is like a little siren on the bathroom floor, calling out: “Heeeeeere I am . . . . maybe you’ve lost weight since yesterday (or even since breakfast . . . or lunch . . . . or ten minutes ago . . .) . . . . Wouldn’t that be a loooooooooovely way to start the daaaaaaayyyyyyy??????????” Of course, I read the stories about sirens. I know that that scale is just waiting to dash me on the rocks of my self-esteem and laugh while I drown, but do I remember that from the LAST time I got on the scale (which may only have been an hour or two ago)? Noooooooooooo. So I get on the scale, and *GASP, CHOKE* I’m the SAME! Or worse yet, POINT 2 POUNDS HEAVIER!! Oh, the shame of it all . . . :P Jesus Christ.

And the more I weigh myself, the more I WANT to weigh myself. I rapidly spiral down from once a week to twice a week to every day to twice a day to (sometimes) three or four times a day. I think it’s some sort of bizarre irrational mixture of hope and self-flagellation. All I know is that as of Monday, I had lost 5.4 pounds, and as of today, I regained 2.8 of those pounds. I know that’s not really possible, and here’s the kicker: I’m PMSing like a mother-fucker. I was watching TV the other night and there was a cat-litter commercial with a kitten in it, and I was sitting there CRYING, for God’s sake! I didn’t even cry when Bambi’s MOTHER died, so if I’m crying because “That little pooping kitten is so cuuuuuuuuute (sob, sob),” I know I’m deep in PMS-town. Either that or I’m sick, because when I have the flu I cry at everything.

But does the knowledge that I’m about to start my period make ANY difference to the irrational part of my brain? Of course not. Rationally I know that I’m retaining water, and so the scale is higher, plus I’ve started a martial arts class, which has a lot of strength training, which equals weight gain (for me), and of course the scale is on carpet, which means Monday’s weight might have been higher (really) and today’s weight might have been lower (really). Does any of that matter to my self-esteem right now?? HELL, NO!

I fucking hate PMS.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Staying on the path

I had an audition on Sunday for a theatrical production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I went, but didn’t end up auditioning, which was really hard.

First, in order for this to make sense, you have to know that I am Queen of the World when it comes to sabotaging myself. I will pick a goal, start down the path, and immediately get sidetracked. (“Hm, this other path looks interesting. I wonder what’s down here? I wonder if it leads to the same place as the one I started on? Let’s find out. I can always come back to this spot if the other path doesn’t take me where I want to go.” Of course, six months later I’m back at the initial place I started, I take 3 more steps and oh, look! Another interesting side path! Wonder what’s down there . . . I’m like a damn 5-year-old! LOL) On the other hand, the times I have really focused and stayed on track, the force of my will became something fierce to be reckoned with.

So I made some goals from that list I had. The first two, which I put a fairly quick time frame on, were to get an agent(s) (commercial and theatrical), and my SAG (Screen Actor’s Guild) card. Here’s the thing: a lot of people have trouble getting their SAG card. Not everyone, certainly, but there are more than a few people who struggle for a year or two before they get it. And agents aren’t generally terribly enthused about seeing people who have no card, because it’s MUCH harder to book jobs that pay well if you don’t have it. So those two goals are big ones, mostly because of the time frame I put on them.

So here’s what I have to change in order to accomplish those two things:
I need to take a commercial class – badly. I’m really good at dramatic readings, but I really, REALLY suck at commercials. And agents generally sign you for commercials first, to see if you’re marketable and committed.
I also need to do a mass headshot mailing to various agencies. That means that in the next couple of weeks, I need to get my headshots and resumes printed in large quantity (100-200 of each), staple them all together, buy manila envelopes and postage, print a hundred (or so) labels, revise my cover letters (different versions so that when you mail to more than one agent in an office, it doesn’t look so much like a form letter), stuff the envelopes, label them and get them in the mail. It’s not hard; just time-consuming and expensive.

So those are the two major steps I need to be taking. I already started on the headshots, and the commercial class I’m going to take starts the first Saturday in June. I’m a busy kid. :)

Now. The audition. I submitted online, but there was no rehearsal schedule posted. Most of these things seem to rehearse in the evenings though and I knew I would be tired if I did that, but figured I could manage. When I got there, the rehearsals were most of the day on Saturdays and Sundays. Right in the middle of my commercial class, which I really need to take if I want to get an agent. There were also a couple of other things that gave me pause and I just had the overwhelming feeling that this was NOT where I was supposed to be. Here’s the thing, though: I’d been so excited for this audition, because ALL my training is theatrical, and I finally felt like I had an audition that I KNEW I could knock out of the park. I wasn’t nervous but I WAS excited. And now I felt like it was the wrong thing, and I didn’t know WHY I felt that way!

It suddenly flashed into my mind that doing theatre was not anywhere on that list of goals I had set. Getting an agent and going SAG were on the list (which this show would interfere with), but doing a theatrical production wasn’t. Especially since I have CRAZY theatre credits on my resume already; it’s not like I need any more of those. All of a sudden I had this visual in my head of standing at the top of that path saying, “Maybe this other path will get me to my destination, too!” So I went over to the coordinator, introduced myself and thanked him and his partner for calling me in. I explained that I had some major schedule conflicts, so rather than take up their time, I was going to excuse myself, but that I really appreciated their invitation to audition.

And I left. It was the hardest thing I’ve done in a while, but I know it was the right thing to do. I felt like I’d achieved some huge turning point or passed some test. But you know what? I HATE getting tested by the powers that be!