Pet Peeves

OK, I will admit, I'm not always a team player. In fact, I often have very little tolerance for my fellow humans. I can't recall if I ever got the "does not play well with others" comment on my report card (though I did have a music teacher who enjoyed putting comments like "Frequently without gym uniform"), but it would probably still be apt.

I'm always amazed at "people persons" (person persons? people people?). You know, those people who need to interact with others each and every day and are miserable without socializing? They're usually pretty chipper, which is not a word that has ever been used to describe me. I mean, I could go for days without having a conversation with anyone besides J. When he was away on tour, I spent a lot of time blissfully away from other humans. I enjoy my solitude, is what I'm saying.

Which makes it doubly hilarious that my current job is in customer service.

Anyhow, my pet peeve for the day: I belong to a weight loss message board. (I kind of love internet message boards, though I never post. Even my virtual self is anti-social!)While I mainly like to track my food and exercise and use it motivationally, I like to skim through the message boards. I'm always kind of amazed at people who "don't like any fruits or vegetables", or who don't understand "how on earth people can eat 5 servings of fruits and veggies a day?" But the one I hate the most, the thing that gets repeated over and over and over:

MUSCLE WEIGHS MORE THAN FAT.

OK. Muscle doesn't "weigh more than fat". A pound of muscle weighs the same as a pound of fat. Which is the same as a pound of feathers, or a pound of butter, or a pound of Tinker Toys. Leaving aside that "I've been working out for 3 days and the scale hasn't budged" query, the proper response isn't "well you know, muscle weighs more than fat! go4it!"

Muscle is more dense than fat. So it takes up less space than fat. But it weighs the same.

I know, I know that I shouldn't get my blood pressure up about stuff on the internet, but eventually, the aggravation wears me down.

Monday!

Well, friends, it's Monday again. I'm here at work, where I've recently accepted a promotion into a kind of supervisory role... Ultimately I will do less face-to-face everyday customer service (yay!), but will probably deal with escalated customer service issues. And do more admin-y stuff, which I'm looking forward to learning about. I'm a bit leary about "am I getting sucked into a steady job because of the stability?", but at this point I could use the money, the benefits, and... well, the stability. I want to be able to afford to do all the stuff I have planned this year, and save some up to do some more stuff. And if I don't like it, I can always step down. Or find a new job if that's not possible.

Last week I went to a very strange alternative therapy, which aroused the skeptic in me. It was something I wouldn't have sought out myself, but an old friend of mine is now an enthusiastic practitioner, and offered a complimentary session to me. And since it was free, I decided to go with it and just take the chance to meditate on some stuff.

Honestly, I think some alternative treatments/modalities are great, and some of them just seem like utter BS. The little science nerd in me keeps raising her hand and saying "Dude. Wait, what?" And then the little hippie nerd in me is all like "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio..." Except she says it like she's in the movie Clueless, so Horatio has about four extra syllables.

ANYWAY, as questionable as the science behind the treatment was, some of the discussion we had afterwards was quite valuable-- which led me to think this weekend of how much of my life I've spent trying to "impress" others, trying to get validation from them. (I suppose if I had to get specific about it, I would say I spent an awful lot of my childhood trying somewhat unsuccessfully to get my parents' approval-- I've gotten a little better about approval-seeking in general, but this one still hits home).

Ever been to alternative therapies? From getting your chakras balanced to getting a hole drilled in your forehead, I'm curious. (Speaking of holes drilled in your forehead, the best class I ever took in university was The History of Medical Practice-- 1700 to Present Day. Drilling holes in your head to let the gnomes out, stomachaches caused by a demon in your stomach, blood poisoning caused by masturbating. I could go on. It was awesome.)

ETA: Just wanted to note that I got my most prestigious rejection letter yet-- rejected from the Sundance Theatre Lab (yes, that is Sundance as in THE Sundance). This is not so bad, and certainly not unexpected. Getting rejected by more prestigious places means I actually think enough of myself to apply to such prestigious places. Which is good! But boooo on Robert Redford for not thinking I'm a genius. (Actually, I'm pretty sure Redford doesn't read any of the submissions for theatre. Pretty sure.)

Tuesday

So the weather defeated both me and my friend, and I think we were both relieved not to have to go out and entertain each other after a multi-hour, multi-delayed plane ride/frigid day of hiding in a cold, cold house.

Do you ever get into a creative rut? I do. All the time. Friends tell me it's a part of being creative, but I always imagine everyone else's process being infinitely joyous and fulfilling. Unlike mine, which seems to bring misery and frustration. I know I'm in a rut when I start to get obsessive over how much better everyone else's career is going. Because everyone else is booking the jobs, is meeting the right people, is going on worldwide tours of edgy new works. Everyone else is prettier, or younger looking, or more talented, or more confident, or, or, or...

You see where this ends up, right? And that's no fun. Fortunately now I'm starting to recognize the warning signs, and am attempting to haul myself out of it before a full-blown crise-du-confiance rears its ugly head.

Today is a long day. I like to cram as many things as possible into my non-work time, apparently. So this morning I had a doctor's appointment, a singing lesson, and now I'm at work for the evening shift. Maybe I'm feeling creatively meh because I can NEVER LET MYSELF RELAX WITHOUT FEELING GUILTY?

How is your Tuesday going?

Not Looking Good...

Well, I'm pretty sure I didn't book a part in that film... was it the weird eye? My chubbiness? The fact that they wanted either 22-25 or 35-45 and I am slightly too old/too young-looking for either of those categories? I know I read well. So maybe it's that vague, frustrating "you weren't quite what we were looking for". I think that if I could get more auditions, they'd become more businesslike for me-- plus I'd be in more practice. Here's hoping that the spring/summer brings more production to my prairie home.

It's been cold cold cold and snowing all weekend, so I've been housebound for a couple of days, save for doing the weekly grocery shop-- just a few more weeks of poverty before we can start buying name-brand groceries again. I've got another freelance editing job for the month of February, which will pay ridiculously well and will contribute nicely to our travel savings fund.

I have a friend coming in from out of town for work, and he may be calling me to go for drinks later on... is it wrong that I'm not totally excited about venturing out on the frozen planet of Hoth to go for a beer? I feel like a bad friend, he's only here for less than a day. I'm sure I'll go. I'll go. But I'm secretly hoping he's too tired to play tonight.

Bad friend!

This Day Can Only Get Better...

As I think I've whined about mentioned a few times lately, I've been rather sick over the last week. Yesterday I finally stopped with the consta-sneezing, consta-snotting, and dopey-headedness. I was starting to taste food again. A time for rejoicing!

Then this morning I woke up with my left eye all swollen and puffy. I'm going to chalk that up to sinus irritation, since it's happened before (and fortunately hasn't spread to my entire eye, as has happened before)... just the underside of my eye was puffy. Of course, this was the morning of my audition, just me in a room with a camera and six people who'd never met me, and could probably only wonder if my headshot was massively photoshopped.

I briefly considered calling in sick to the audition. I actually had a little debate with myself in the bathroom mirror as I pressed an ice pack to my eye. I decided to go, not only because I didn't want to be "that person" who blows off auditions (good reason or not), but because it wasn't that bad. I figured I could throw a little makeup on it, and besides, taking a brisk walk in -28C weather could probably only help the swelling, right?

And it kind of did. Except that it sort of spread out the swelling and gave the underside of my eye a distinctly purple outline. Basically, I look like someone clocked me in the face. Which was kind of interesting walking around downtown at lunch hour, people looking while trying not to look. I felt a little bit like a tough girl, which believe me, I am not.

And then came the audition. It was a little awkward, but I think the read itself did well. They didn't mention the eye, and neither did I. I don't know if that was the right thing or not-- it's been drilled into me that you don't mention that you're sick, because it comes across as making excuses. And what if it wasn't as noticeable as I thought? What if by mentioning it I just POINTED OUT MY WEIRD EYE AND THEY COULDN'T LOOK AWAY FROM IT?

It was a pretty in and out kind of read-- I'll hear soon whether or not I booked it. And I'm glad I went. Now I'm at work, starting early, settling in for a long shift till close.

Tip of the day: always have some kind of granola bar on hand at home. This will provide you with a more suitable breakfast than a mini babybel and a weird concentrated fruit and veggie bar you buy at the corner store.

Maybe She's Born With It... Maybe It's Added In Post

There's a lot of things to complain about in advertising, particularly advertising that's targeted at women. But for some reason, it's mascara ads that drive me up the wall.

I've got a pretty good set of natural eyelashes, and I've tried a few mascaras in my time-- whether it be volumizing, lenghthening,or some play on triple-X. There've been good products and bad products, but none of them have ever given me the ludicrously cartoon-like lashes they show in mascara ads.

And it pisses me off! I mean, not that I don't get the advertised results, but that the false advertising is so blatant. All these commercials about blasting your lashes, or maximizing your flirting potential, or achieving full confidence as a woman, and they're showing closeups of some model with showgirl drag-queen-worthy lashes. And in the small print it says "False lashes used" or "Lashes enhanced during post-production".

Which I totally don't get. Because aren't the eyelashes the thing they're selling? How can they show this girl with eyelashes up to her eyebrows and say "Aren't these great? You'd need a CGI guy following you around. Also, we sell mascara. Which has nothing to do with this look." And why does everyone just accept that mascara commercials are just fake? Or does everyone know they're fake? Do some women layer the mascara on and on in the hopes of achieving the My Little Pony Eye effect?

These commercials drive me into an inexplicable rage when I see them.
Are there any commercials that are like that for you?

What Do You Mean I'm An Overachiever?

So I'm sick. Sick in the way that I only get sick every couple of years, what with the stuffed up sinuses and the cough and the mysterious inability to stay awake for more than 20 minutes at a time-- merely a third of an episode of Groomer Has It, as I discovered yesterday. Not only does being sick lead to some confusing tv times (like waking up in the middle of Who Wants To Be A Superhero when you are still mentally in the Nigella Cooks headspace, but I also called in sick yesterday, the one and only time in the 18+ months I have worked here. I'm back at work today, mercifully I am down in the dungeon on phones rather than having to face customers in the flesh.

But here's a quick "to-do" list I just jotted down for myself on a piece of scrap paper:

*Massage
*Give blood
*Join Y
*Sides for audition
*Acupuncture

Oh, just a few things I dashed off that I need to do. Why not include "Win Governer General's Award for drama"? Or "Win Canadian Idol: Easy Listening Edition" (which I wish they had for old fogeys like me).

I can't decide if it's because I feel slightly guilty for being sick and not accomplishing something, or if too much time on its own causes my mind to wander into the realms of fantasy. Or both.

I am pretty determined to book a massage, once I get paid next week. A few of my dancer-type friends have been suggesting the excellent rolfers that they have found. I don't know why, but I've always been afraid of being rolfed. Possibly some buried association with a particularly aggressive theatre school instructor. I don't know, it sounds like it's super hard core. Anyone been rolfed? Is it incredibly painful?

No further C's have been sung on this front, by the way. Maybe I should add it to my to-do list!

Today...

I sang a high C in my lesson today. I know! Nobody is more surprised than me.

Now I'm terribly, terribly sick with a chest cold.

Coincidence?

Could the gateway to my upper register have been blocked by thousands of GERMS and VIRUSES, rather than YEARS OF PSYCHOLOGICAL BULLSHIT? Could my upper register be protecting the world from A NEW PLAGUE and not AVOIDING MY TERRIBLE SELF-ESTEEM ISSUES?

Eh, maybe a little from Column A and a little from Column B.

Small steps

So, remember that indie I booked a few months ago? It kept getting pushed back and back, and now has undergone rather significant script changes, to the point where it's kind of an entirely different movie. As a matter of fact, the original film was cancelled before Christmas, and they're starting the process over again. Meaning another round of auditions.

I was struggling to just make myself book a slot, because it's been a while since I did an "in the room audition" (the last couple of auditions I've had have been submitted on tape), and I get nervous about all kinds of stupid things. It's the kind of thing that I have to just force myself to get back into-- I'm sure if I lived in a market where auditions came fast and furious, I'd be able to get on a roll, because I honestly do really like auditions and cold readings. Anyway, I just sent an email to book the slot, so this week I'll be learning some sides and giving myself some serious pep talks.

I found this article on letting go of perfectionism somewhere in my recent internet travels, and I was really struck by how many points hit home for me-- I was definitely raised in an environment where grades/achievements/awards were praised and expected. And I can definitely see how perfectionism (which is really about trying to get approval/validation) is blocking to me-- I get to the point where I'm paralyzed about trying something for fear of failing in front of someone. I want to try new things, though. I want to be fearless. And if it's not possible to be totally fearless, I'd like to be fearless-er.

This year, people! Remind me of my current optimism when I burn out sometime in late May, will you?

I also resolve...

To make this the year I have a well-stocked bar. Actually, my "bar" (*cough*kitchen cabinet*cough)is looking rather empty at the moment, with the dregs of a bottle of rum and a bottle of Bombay Gin that contains only fumes. Oh, and a bottle of red wine my landlady gave us for Christmas. Last year. Oops.

My old roommate and I used to throw amazing holiday cocktail parties. I mean, I think they were pretty amazing. And we'd have awesome treats like homemade candy cane bark. And a cheese log! And we'd always feel very grown-up, because we'd pick a theme drink for the evening, and stock up on whatever the main booze ingredient was. Yes, we were quite grown up and sophisticated, my friends. And because of our penchant for vintage cocktail culture, we had a really great liquor cabinet, stocked with everything from creme de menthe to curacao, to a veritable rainbow of schnapps. And being in the thea-tah, we had plenty of bartender friends who were only too happy to mix up something fab while we celebrated the season.

Well, that was a few years ago. And the best of the vintage barware went with its owner to Toronto, and the booze is long gone. But I want to bring it back! I figure I can make a list of drinks I want to try, stock up on the basics (vodka, gin, rum, tequila, whisky and triple sec) and then add on as I find more fun drinks. I'd like to add a bottle every paycheque, if I can. And how much fun will it be to try a new drink every week? Because I do love me a cocktail.

Take that, Liquor Depot clerk (and Liquor Mart clerk!) for looking at me like I was on drugs when I asked if they had Mai Tai mix! I'll make my own! From scratch! In about... oh, say... 2 months!

HA!

A Happy New Year to you, friends and neighbours!

A Happy Happy, And A Merry Merry

Well, the gifts are all unwrapped, my holiday travel is done, and I have way more chocolates/cookies/treats lying around the house than I know what to do with. In some ways, I felt like I didn't get to really enjoy the whole Christmas season (and I am a cheesy, cheesy freak for Christmas), just because I had so much running around in December: the playwrights intensive, working 11 days straight right up until I left, heading home, coming back last night and being here at work bright and early...ish. There were a lot of things I wanted to do, one of which was to take some time off for myself, and I didn't get to do a lot of that.

I did get to see some amazing folks that I hadn't seen in years and years. And I was a little nervous-- what were we going to talk about? Am I as socially awkward as I feel sometimes? But it was fabulous, and I'm so glad I got to see as many people as I did and catch up with them all.

I got to do a lot of thinking (or, I suppose, I was forced to do a lot of thinking) about old issues that came up to confront me during my time with my family. I'm trying to let some things go, because there's no sense in me carrying all that stuff around. It just becomes all too handy an excuse for why I'm not moving towards my goals. Of course, saying "I'm letting it go!" and actually doing it are two very different beasts. But I have a lot of goals that I'm excited to start working towards. I'm just trying not to put too much pressure on myself, because then I end up busy and stressed and frazzled and I end up missing out on having a lazy Christmas!

Anyway, back to work-- hope you all had a lovely week and a great year ahead.

Why Am I Not A Photo Person?

OK, y'all. I've been noticing the distinct lack of photos on this thing I call "my blog". And it's not that I don't have access to a digital camera. I think I actually have access to at least 3, in fact: my camera, my phone, and my laptop. And yet I don't take photos very often.

I think it's a leftover thing from my formative years-- we didn't have digital cameras then. I mean, I'm talking one computer to an entire school, where you could sign up for time to play "Lemonade Stand" if you were lucky and in the gifted program like me. Of course, the payoff was watching filmstrips about what COBOL and BASIC and FORTRAN stood for, and how we would all be needing to learn these languages sometime in the future.

Anyway, photos. You had to use film, which was precious and could be ruined by, say, sunlight, or greasy children's fingerprints, and needed to be wound after each photo. And every photo was a risk, because it could take months (if you were, say, my parents) to use up a roll. And then it could take months to actually get off your ass and go to a photo developing place, and then get your pictures back and decide what you wanted doubles of, and by then everyone had seen the picture of you with your eyes clothes, or your boob hanging out, or whatever embarrassing thing was captured on film. But it kind of didn't matter, because you no longer had any context for that moment.

So I don't take a lot of photos. And you know what I hate? Uploading. Isn't that stupid? It's way more convenient than having to leave the house after having taken a certain number of photos and wait for them to get developed, etc. etc. like I just said in the paragraph above. And yet, I really hate having to name all my pictures and sort them out.

But out of a fear of the last vestiges of youth passing me by and me having no memory of these years, say, 5 years from now, I'm going to start taking more pictures. There, I just resolved that! I love resolutions because they are so EASY TO MAKE.

Speaking of, I should probably organize those resolutions. Like organizing photos, the prospect is less than appealing. I actually came to post about the laziest, most irritating person that I work with, but then I got all hung up on "hey, photos!", so my bitching about this guy will have to wait for another day.

Celebrate good times...

Yes, I'm back. The writing thing went really well, I'm kind of sad it's over, but happy that I don't have to use my brain that intensely every day for a while. So I'm back at work, gazing in wonderment and the internet, realizing I can just read about celebrity breakups and look at food porn without worrying that I need to be *working* on something.
Of course, naturally, I am working on my project, because it's wormed its way into my brain-- we're meeting again for another intensive in March, and then an invited reading in June. Now all I have to do is keep the good creative energy flowing long enough to actually write a complete draft of my play.
But the big news...
The big news...
The reason they call it the most wonderful time of the year is...

I PAID OFF MY STUDENT LOAN!

Well, technically I made arrangements for the payment today, which is coming out tomorrow. But that makes today Student Loan Eve, equivalent to my very favourite day of Christmas Eve. So sometime between midnight and 6pm tomorrow, my loan will be paid off, leaving me free to close my account with RBC, the sweetest Christmas gift of all.

Although I find it slightly ridiculous that I have to wait 5 business days and call them one more time if I want an actual document saying that my loan is paid in full, because "unfortunately, our system doesn't generate them automatically". I mean, maybe it's just me, but I kind of assumed that when you paid off a loan or a mortgage, your bank just sent you a piece of paper confirming it was paid. Doesn't everyone want the piece of paper? I know I do, because then I can conclusively prove to them that my debt is paid in full when they screw up and start trying to do some kind of automatic debit that I already cancelled.

Is my relationship with the Royal Bank over? Can I really go through the rest of my life never, ever having to talk to them again? Or will they change their minds, or screw something up, or miscalculate something and then try to chase me down for a few more pennies? Will it be a clean break, or will it be a messy divorce?

Anyway, you can bet I will be celebrating this for the next 24 hours.

Out with the old...

That list of submissions? Done. I forced myself to sit down and write the appropriate summaries, synopses and cover letters and sent them out on Friday. And now... let the waiting commence.

This week is the hell week for me... writing intensive during the day, working at night (or a reading, or an audition), then at some point writing to have more stuff to bring for 9am the next day. It's the kind of week where you have to bring 3 meals and 2 snacks with you plus a change of clothes. Fortunately, it's only from tomorrow till the 14th. After that... then I have just a week and a half until I fly home for a few days.

Right now, I admit, I'm kind of procrastinating with the writing a little bit.

I resolve...

Do you make New Year's resolutions? I sometimes do, but I try not to go to crazy. With my propensity for making lists, it could be possible to go a little overboard. It's usually pretty standard stuff, quit smoking (done!), quit biting nails (not done), lose 40 lbs (in progress). One year I resolved to read a classic novel every month for 12 months, which turned out to be fun.

This year, I actually have a short list of things that I'm resolving to complete before the new year, so I can have a fresh start without all this old year crap hanging over me. Speaking of, I must remember to buy a new day timer...

Out With The Old Resolutions...
* for the love of the gods, I must finish that list of submissions before Christmas! I have all the appropriate pdf files, I have a play summary, I have a good cover letter that I can tweak, all the names I should drop. I just kind of withered on the vine when it came to submitting to people I don't really know. Which is ridiculous, and now I'm just putting it off for no reason. It shall be done!

* donate blood. This was on my list of things to do all year, and to be fair, I did unsuccessfully try to donate. And though I was afraid I might be rejected for being a low-iron vegetarian (not the case! go nutrition!), I did get rejected because the tech totally missed my vein or went through it three times in a row, resulting in a super painful bruise for me, and them telling me that even though they took no actual blood, I wouldn't be able to try again for a couple of months. Which has extended till now. I'm trying to make time to go do that before Christmas as well.

* Pay off my student loan. Could I be more excited about this one? I still have enough left on the loan that it would take about 2 more years to pay it out, based on the rate I'm paying at now. But my parents, in their infinite wisdom, have told me (nay, insisted to me) that "Remember when you moved out when you were 16 and we didn't really give you any financial help with school? Why don't we pay off the rest of that loan?" Which I am glad beyond belief to accept. Partially because I can use the money I would have had to pay into my loans for the next two years into paying other debt, or voice lessons, or putting on a show, or a gym membership, or something worthwhile. And partially because I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT TO CLOSE MY ACCOUNT WITH THE ROYAL BANK! That is going to be one sweet, sweet (and yes, I accept that it will be anticlimactic) day.

In 2011...
I'm joining the Y. Now that I don't have student loans to pay, I have no excuse. It's close to work, it's relatively affordable, and it has endless possibilities for different workouts, so there's no way I can get bored. The rest of this %$*&# weight is coming off!

Having said that, I'm not putting off stuff any more "while I lose weight". Life is short. Losing weight seems to be taking a long time. I'd rather see what kind of opportunities there are for me RIGHT NOW than wait one more minute.

I'm going to look cuter. I've been wanting to do a little style makeover for a while. So I'm going to go ahead and do that.

I'm going to be a singer. Somehow.

And I'm sure there will be many, many more resolutions made, but those are the important ones. Now that they're in writing, what choice do I have but to complete them?

Writing is going slowly, but surely. I forgot what a slog writing a monologue can be. And since the whole show is monologue... well. It's pretty dense, I can no longer tell if it's interesting, and I have no idea how long what I've written runs. I have at least 12 densely packed pages. I'm hoping that might be close to 2 minutes a page, if not more. Whatever. I'm going to bring what I've got to the workshop on Tuesday and suffer through and probably not ask for comments or feedback, because who needs yet another voice in their head at this early stage?

Anyway, back to it.

Epiphanies

One of my favourite moments in writing (usually in writing plays) is when I've felt so frustrated and blocked about something and I finally say "Oh, I wish the character just *do this one thing that would solve all problems and allow me to move forward*."

And then I stop and think Well, why can't they? And suddenly everything I've been struggling with falls neatly into place, like I'd thought of it that way all along, but I'd just been waiting for myself to realize it.

Not that moments like that happen every day. But that sudden thrill of realizing I know the answer, I've known this answer all along is amazing.

I was reading a blog written a singing teacher. I like to discover new blogs and go on blog-binges. Just read all the old posts all at once. Which, come to think of it, is a bit sad that a voracious blog reader like myself is so lax in posting. Oops! But I digress. I was looking up discussions of head voice vs. chest voice, and trying to unconfuse myself, when I came across these posts talking about how singing (and all art), is about honesty. And courage. About claiming your voice, your instrument, and being willing to work with it honestly. How acting is about doing, not feeling.

And whoosh,suddenly there was that feeling again, of isn't that funny, I already had this answered and was just letting myself forget. Because creative art, whatever your medium, is about honesty. To me, anyway. That's what draws me to it, that's what keeps me going in the face of criticism or being overlooked, or whatever. And that's something I needed to consciously think about right now. Ultimately, it isn't about who's getting the most work, or what Artistic Director X thinks about my play, or why no one is hiring me. It's about finding the courage to be honest, to own my work, to make an offer without worrying about acceptance.

D-day for the play is coming next week-- I have no idea how much I'll have actually written. In other news, I have some indie film auditions coming up, and I was asked to film something for a sketch comedy troupe, which I'm doing this weekend. And I'm thrilled they asked me.

Going to try and move forward with the play, thinking about honesty and just showing up and owning my work.

That, and trying to get all my Christmas shopping done in one weekend.

Cheers, y'all!

Stress!

Oh, you guys. I'm so stressed right now. I'm in non-writing guilt overload, which should make tomorrow PRIME WRITING TIME. Of course, there's also a lot of pressure to make tomorrow PRIME WRITING TIME.

I guess I could probably just say "Oh, when you said no pressure to have a complete draft, I assumed that there was no pressure to complete anything."

Award silence.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you guys were cool. So. Uh. Yeah."

More awkward silence, followed by the sound of me tiptoeing out of the room.

No. I will have something decent to show them. I hope. Anything to cover up the fact that I have no idea what I am doing.

Between seeing a bunch of shows and working every day and worrying about the thing I am and am not writing, I cannot wait until sometime in December when the writing session is over and I can relax a little.

I submitted for a fringe slot, so we'll see if my fringe-lottery-luck continues its dismal trajectory. I figure if I get in, I have until May to withdraw without suffering a financial penalty. I can think of an idea by May, right?

Singing is going well-- I am even thinking ahead to doing some auditions in the spring.

It's hard not to feel beaten down, I have to say. I don't know if it's partially the weather (cold and dark, ick) or just the constant stress of trying to do everything at once, or what. I have been feeling rather mopey as of late. I know I can make stuff happen for myself, but sometimes it would be nice to be a participant, rather than an organizer. Maybe that's not my path, and I'm sure that I will feel better actually producing something over which I have complete artistic control,but still... it's difficult to feel left out, sometimes.

However. Back to some thinking and ruminating in readiness for writing tomorrow.

How To Write A Play

Here it is, all you aspiring playwrights! A quick and easy, step-by-step guide of how to write a play. Got your pen and paper ready?

1. Get an idea. This is one of the easiest parts. You can get ideas from tv commercials (ShamWow Vince: The Rock Opera), or movies (how about What About Bob? meets Armageddon? ONSTAGE!), or theatre, both good and bad (and it's easy to find some of both, wherever you are), or your personal life (Hairdon't: A Memoir).

2. So when you got your idea, did you write your first draft right away? Like, immediately right away? Oh. Because if you didn't, and I don't want to alarm you, your brain has had a chance to catch up with you. Your brain may have turned your idea into big, capital-letter WRITING A PLAY. In fact, your play idea has probably been mentally re-branded as YOUR PLAY IDEA, emphasizing the importance of not ruining it by actually writing it. In fact, the most important piece of advice I can give you about writing a play is DON'T RUIN IT. Because, and admittedly this is only a theory, if you ruin a play idea, you might not ever get another one. That's what I've heard, anyway.

3. Think about your play for a while. Look up things related to your play on the internet. But don't start writing (remember, writing=ruining. In fact, put this phrase on a sticky somewhere near your computer so you won't forget). This is an important phase called "research". If you are writing something based on historical events, you will discover a bonanza of research opportunities, so much so that you may never have to write your play at all. Consider yourself fortunate.

4. While you are procrastinating researching, you will likely start to feel guilty about not writing. Thus begins nature's delicate battle: the part of you that fears play-ruining will argue that there is still much research to do;some other part of you will retort that writers write, and you're not actually writing anything. A last burst of research will ensue. Once your guilt over not writing is even more unbearable than your fear of actually writing (and thus, ruining), it's time to write!

5. Force yourself to write. Start with the title page. Center your title, and put contact information in the bottom right-hand corner. This counts as one page of writing. You may need to take a break to rest your muse after this. Come back to it tomorrow, if you feel too spent to continue. Remember, the character descriptions, title page, and any dedications you wish to include all count as writing!

6. Sit in front of the page every day, disappointed that you didn't black out and complete your first draft the day before. Berate yourself for your failure. When you are fed up with your self-loathing, you will eventually get over yourself and write a partial draft.

7. Get another idea. Research that one for a while.

8. Come back to your play. Decide it's not so bad. Live in fear that you will ruin the existing portion of the play by completing the script.

9. Get over yourself.

10. Ruin your idea (or not). Finish the play. Allow trusted friends/colleagues to read it, then interpret all their actions for the next six months as tacit feedback on the quality of your writing.

11. Realize you need rewrites. Consider going back to the idea you had in step 7.

12. Return to step 1. Repeat.

Ta-Da! And that's how a play is written!

Catching Up

Sometimes it seems like my life is a constant cycle of falling behind and catching up. I don't know if everyone feels like that, or if it's a particular quirk of my personality that I view life as a series of to-do lists and achievements. Shamefully, I admit that some secret part of me works under the assumption that I'm going to be graded at some point.

I'm trying to work on my new play, and realizing that I have absolutely no idea of what I'm doing. Normally I would come up with an idea and sit on it for at least a few months before writing, thinking, ruminating, considering. I don't have the luxury of time for this one, since we're doing an intensive draft-reading week in early December. Yikes.

I'm also, inexplicably, doing NanoWriMo. I signed up to be moral support for a couple of people, who seemingly have given up. I've done Nano twice, won both times, and while I'm capable of churning out the requisite amount of words over a month, I'm beginning to feel a time crunch. And, I really don't care that much about it (I was using it to generate some ideas/content for a web series I'd like to produce). And while I say I don't care about it, I have a hard time stopping. I don't like to give up. I don't like quitting, even for ridiculous projects that NO ONE ELSE CARES ABOUT.

In other news, singing breakthroughs! Knitting! Lipstick buying! Yes, I bought a neutral lipstick all by my lonesome, because I haven't been able to get to the expensive store with actual consultants yet. And, much to my surprise, it looks good! And I feel a little more "done" than I would without.

So in the meantime, I'll be reading about doppelgangers and assorted weirdness, and trying to figure out what I should get people for Christmas.

What's new with everyone else?

Ever Think You Should Have Just Stayed In Bed?

Today has been trying so far. Actually, an extension of yesterday in that way.
I never thought I'd say it, but Value Village, you have failed me. It started with the "short bob wig" I bought. The first "short bob wig". While the coloured wigs seem to be of better quality, the brown and black wigs... are literally nothing like what is pictured on the packaging. Like, seriously. It looked like I had some sort of diseased woodchuck on my head. Of course, I found this out at 5pm on Halloween while getting ready for a party. So back to VV I went, to purchase the same exact wig in a different colour. I'm not sure why I expected different results (isn't that the definition of insanity), I guess I thought it might have been a factory defect or something.

Yes, another woodchuck head. So I resigned myself to using my own stupid hair, then spent 40 minutes trying to create some fake bangs, gave up doing that, then went to apply my Value Village false eyelashes. Self-adhesive eyelashes. No glue required... right?

Wrong! After much digging, I found some rather old eyelash glue. No significant eye mutations have occurred as of this writing, so I think I may be in the clear. Then, all dolled up, I grabbed a quick bite of good old KD, promptly spilling it down my (white) costume shirt front.

It's all the little things. Like my printer breaking this morning as I was trying to print off a grant application. Printing it off at work to find I made a huge mistake in budgeting (at least I caught it in time!)and having to reprint it. Opening my little cheese that I brought as a snack to find that it was badly packaged by the manufacturer (curse you, Babybel!), and it was moldy.

I just want to go home and hide under my Snuggie. After racing to get an envelope and standing in line at the post office to get this grant postmarked today, that is.

Tonight might be a good night to bake those cupcakes I've been promising myself.

ETA: I just realized that this is my 300th post! And I spent it complaining. Oh well! Celebrate good times... come on!