In the midst of a hurricane

I have had such a peaceful day today. Which surprises me a bit, because I had a sad goodbye last night.

Break ups are hard, always. Especially when you are cast in two back-to-back shows with the person you are breaking up with. In many ways, this summer was a wonderful transition for us. It forced us to see one another in a new kind of relationship, and smoothed the transition into friends. However, we both agree that it is important for us to experience the absence of one another's presence from our lives. And now that our summer of shows has ended, we are making that break.

I've learned to live without him in the romantic sense. He has become such an integral part of my life, though, that learning to live without that is going to be a whole different kind of shitty.

It's like break up: round two.

In a lot of ways, though, I think it will be a relief. There are a lot of things I still love about him, and seeing him every day has been a constant reminder of those things. This will give us both time and distance and space to accept (continue to accept) that this relationship, while wonderful in so many ways,  is ultimately not what will make us happy.

I spent today alone. My roommate and bee eff eff is in Connecticut, and I am trapped inside with the threat of a hurricane. Throw in the tearful goodbye last night, and it sounds like a recipe for moping all day. It's actually been really nice though. I snuggled with Kirby (my demon cat) on the couch while I read and sipped tea, I played with my rats for about an hour, I did yoga, I played my guitar. Now I'm sitting in the dark listening to Celtic music with the window cracked, listening to the wind and storm outside. Tomorrow morning I'm going to the farmer's market and buying apples in celebration of fall, hopefully spending some time with my dad. Good stuff.

I'm going to be fine.

Hola from NYC!

I am currently wasting away from hunger in my castmate's parents' basement with 4 other members of "Romeo and Juliet: Choose Your Own Ending." Our assistant director and stage manager are currently at the grocery store replenishing our dwindling food supply, and I'm hanging out with these hungover Hannahs. (By all rights, I should be hungover as well... but I hydrate, so I is not). 

My last trip up to NYC (last weekend), I left feeling certain that DC was the place for me. Perfect blend of Southernish hospitality and Northern politics. Great theater scene. Busy as a city should be, but not crazy. This weekend, I am beginning to waiver. Although I'm pretty sure it won't happen, last night I started to entertain the idea of living here. I immediately wrote it off because it's not part of my life plan, but then it struck me that I always have a life plan. Maybe I don't necessarily need one. The thought that instead of starting up my dog walking business in DC and pursuing a (probably) more successful theater career there and living in the DC metro are forever, I could move to New York and do god knows what, is kind of exhilarating. Probably still something I won't do, but I think it's good for me to not meticulously plan every detail of my life so far in advance.

The main thing I'm all about in this city is how much character it has. I'm used to DC, where everything is very polished and classy. So far, I've gotten some of the best falafel I've ever had from hole-in-the-wall joints for $2. Last night we went to a 157 year old Irish alehouse. It had old wooden floors covered in sawdust (to absorb spills, presumably). They only have 2 choices - light and dark ale. $5 gets you 2 8oz mugs, hand delivered by the owner of the place - an old Irish chap. So cool! Then we went to a tiny Bulgarian club with a live band and swings in front of the bar instead of stools. In the basement is The Ice Box. You don furs and Russian caps, go in the freezing cold cubicle of sorts filled with bottles of vodka, and have 2 minutes to drink as much of it as you can. I did not partake in this because I a) hate shots and b) have the alcohol tolerance of a small child. But 3 of my friends did and I enjoyed hauling their drunk asses around for the rest of the night (mind you, I and my 2 other non-ice-box-participating friends were pretty drunk as well). Then we went to another hole-in-the-wall club. Coming from big giant DC clubs and bars, I have to say these tiny ones are the way to go. You can only fit about 40 people in the whole joint, so it feels like a party, and by the end, you have a bunch of friends! 

All in all, it was an excellent night. I've spent the morning rereading Sweet Tater's trip to NYC a couple months ago, and now all I want to do is go out and eat as much food as possible. Unfortunately, I'm trapped in a Long Island basement, and may not make it into the city til tomorrow. So I'ma go upstairs and see if those gals are back from grocery shopping. Maybe I can munch on a bagel and pretend it's this:

Update, Shmupdate

I haven't written in awhile. And that's lame, right?
Big excitement in my life right now - a show I'm in is currently performing in FringeNYC, a big international theater festival. My roommate is the playwright (along with her brother), and also the director. This is the 4th time we've remounted our show, which has been pretty damn successful so far, and lots of important people are coming to see it in NYC. Real exciting. Yay!

But... all this excitement may be making me a bit ill. We're going back and forth from the city, working long hours with little sleep. And it's really hard to afford to eat a balanced diet in NY... but I'm doing my best. Regardless, I'm getsing a cold. Soooo last night I filled the blender with cranberry juice, lemon-ginger-echinacea juice, 1 lemon, 6 cloves of garlic, a piece of ginger the size of my palm and some Chinese herbs. I did that 3 times. Kind of gave me heartburn, but hopefully it will beat this shit of a cold out of me.

I'm off to get ready for work. Hopefully there will be more New Yorky updates soon. I know everyone is waiting on baited breath for my next entry ;)

It's All Uncharted.

At this point in my life, no song affects me more than this one.

I miss him, I miss us - but I feel like over the course of our relationship, I've found me. Why was I so terrified of being left alone with myself in the past? What was it about me I was afraid of discovering?
Whatever it was, I'm not afraid anymore. I'm getting to know me better than I ever have, and I like what I'm finding.
I don't know where my life is taking me right now, but for the first time, I'm letting go a little. Wherever I end up, I believe it will be good. I trust me.
I'm going down...

In the Now

I am obsessed with the future. I think about it all the time, in all aspects of my life. I dream about the places I'll live, the next relationship I'll have, my wedding, starting a family, starting my own business, working with bigger theaters. I even spend a fair amount of time planning silly things, like what car I'll have next, or how I'll wear my hair when I get bored of this style, or what pets I'll have throughout my life. Part of this is a literal obsession. I was diagnosed with OCD at age 13, and while it is mild enough to keep from massively interfering with my life, it definitely is a contributing factor in my future obsession. A lot of it, I know is a very common "human nature" problem. So many of us dwell on the future or the past. This morning, sitting on my couch drinking silver chrysanthemum white tea, I reminded myself that here is good. Now is good. One day I'll live in the heart of the city, but now I have my apartment building with neighbors from all over the world, a great sense of community and a freaking pool. I'll be a small business owner and White House dog walker*, but now I love the freedom of just being an employee. I'll fall in love again, but right now I love seeing friends more frequently and having a rockin' bachelorette pad with my great roomie.
I want so badly to plan out my entire future, but this may be the last chance I get to really not know what that future will look like. There's a beautiful freedom in that, and I need to hang onto it while it's here... and then enjoy my story as it unfolds.

*I am deadly serious about this. I frequently take my most impressive looking walk of 6-7 large dogs, including 2 great danes, down busy 16th street. My hope is that one day, Barack Obama will ride by in his fleet of limos, see me, and say, "My word! That girl is astonishing! She must work for me and take Bo out for daily excursions!" And then I'll teach him the proper way to walk Bo... because I saw a picture of that dog dragging the president across the White House lawn one time, and I could definitely teach him a thing or two.
White House dog walker. It's going on my resume in the next 5 years. Get ready.

Releasing Tension

I got my ass handed to me on a plate yesterday afternoon doing yoga. (Yes, I do yoga at home from online videos. Yes, I know I really should go to classes with a real instructor. I don't care. I'm poor.) My abs are super-achy today, but that's just because they're busy becoming a killer six-pack. Or something. It's fine.

At the beginning of the class, the instructor was doing normal yoga instructor zen talk, and saying to let go of all tension in your body and just be present. Feel your body, feel your mind, and let go. I did that. And then I started sobbing.

I am someone who is very determined to be happy. I believe in dealing with sadness, anger, etc, embracing it while I'm there, but then moving on. As I was telling my friend Frank over brunch the other day, however, when really big things happen, I sometimes become so determined to not let it bring me down that I don't fully surrender myself to grief. I allow myself a few moments of sadness, but then I pull myself out of it. I rationalize, telling myself that things are for the best, that a year from now I might not even be sad about this anymore, that in the grand scheme of things everything will work out. All of that's true.

However. A loss is a loss, and I have just lost something truly wonderful. I was a willing participant in this loss, but that doesn't mean it doesn't ache pretty terribly. As I told Frank the other day, I think I worry that if I completely let myself feel what I'm feeling, I won't be able to handle it.

I learned back in college, in Leigh Smiley's voice class, how much physical tension is related to holding in feelings. What happened yesterday shouldn't have surprised me. When I released my muscles - the muscles in my face, my jaw, my neck, my shoulders, my feet - I felt an overwhelming sadness just about knock the wind out of me. I hadn't even been thinking about the break up. Feelings have a way of lurking in our bodies though, even when we don't notice them.

I started to try to get control of myself - the class was about to start! I couldn't follow along if I was too busy crying! - but then I remembered my conversation with Frank. I paused the video, curled up on the floor, and acknowledged this loss in a way I hadn't since the night it happened. Eventually, I calmed down, and felt ready to press play again.

I feel better now. Overall, this break up is going about as well as break ups can go. Mutual, amicable, nothing but love for the other person. Despite that, I need to learn to stop judging myself for sometimes feeling a bit heartbroken about it.

Instead of the Pool...

I'm doing this. Because it is hot outside, friends, and I just spent 5 hours learning that.

Ann (roommate) was out of town last night, so I had the apartment to myself. One of the things you quickly learn when you're newly single (which I am) is just how much of your time was spent with one person. When you're not doing that anymore... you find yourself with a lot more time. Not inherently a bad thing. But definitely a thing I've noticed. So far, I've spent most of that alone time doing various productive-ish things, like cooking and yoga and playing the guitar. Last night, however, I decided to bum around all night and watch Scrubs. I'm pretty busy all the time anyway, what with various theatrical projects, so I don't feel bad about slumming it up last night. (I do feel a little bad about not cleaning the rat cage or the bathroom, like I had planned...)

I did, however, make some super-tasty succotash. I got the recipe from my beloved Dishing Up Maryland cookbook. I craftily procured some cheap veggies to make it at the farmers market the other day. The corn was acquired as such:
Me (looking at 3 good ears of corn and 2 with yucky brown patches): I'll take these three.
Farmer: No, you'll take all of them, but I'll only charge you for those three. Because I'm never going to sell those two.
Me: DAMN STRAIGHT.

I chopped off the yucky parts - which were actually only a very small portion - and had a shit ton of tasty corn. I found 5 teeny tiny red bell peppers that looked a little old in a couple spots, but otherwise fine. I paid $1.10 for them, and they were the best red peppers I've ever consumed in all my days. I could not believe how red they were. I want to find a simile that isn't quite so gross, but they were seriously the exact color of blood and I was all about it. I couldn't find lima beans at the market, or at the grocery store (produce and frozen section - what the heck?!) so I had to buy them canned. Kinda skeeved me out a bit, but oh well. And THEN I added some basil from my flourishing basil plant, so I could feel like a farmer too. Yay!

Today has thus far been filled with brunch, dogs, friendly tow truck drivers and rude, sexist mechanics. Tonight will be filled with rehearsal. Hooray for last minute script changes!

Well hello there, blog world.

Two things happened to me a few months ago. The first is I started following a few blogs on a regular basis. I got really into them - it was like reading a novel that was happening in real time! Neat, yo! The second thing is I ventured to Japan for two weeks, and sent my beloved ones daily, super-long emails. I loved those emails. I looked forward to writing them each night, and frequently found myself narrating my daily adventures in my head. I am aware that's a little strange... but instead of trying to squash my mildly schizophrenic habit, I have decided to bring it back into my life via blogging!

I debated for awhile on what specific topic to make this blog. I mostly read fitness/foodie blogs, and considered making this guy one of those. I decided not to, because a) I totally don't know enough about those things to write on them with any authority whatsoever, b) I always cook from recipes and haven't the foggiest idea how to make up a meal without directions and c) I have a million other things I want to talk about because I'm just that interesting! So I'ma just blab on about whatever I happen to dream up.

I should perhaps warn you about two things pertaining to my writing style: my sentences are way too long, and I don't really understand paragraphs. I basically just start a new one when I get bored, but probably end up lumping several paragraphs together pretty frequently. I don't feel particularly concerned about this. I considered studying English instead of Theatre in college, but I didn't and I suppose this is the trade-off. If you find it terribly offensive, you can meander on out of my little corner of the blogging community. Or send me hate mail.

Oh, and don't think too much about the blog title. I just like those things.
Here we go!