The End is Where We Start From

This is my last post on this blog. I'm moving over to another one for my new...life, I suppose, if that's not too trite for words.

But I'm keeping this blog up to remember me where I've come from, what I've done/seen/said and all the amazing people and places I passed through on my way.

It's been liberating, my lieblings. Catch you on the West Coast.

Never Tell Me The Odds

I just looked over that last post and realised something:

In a weird way, I'm still working on that sense of faith. Now you know me, my lieblings, I'm not into religiousity, so that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm 21, I'm heading to L.A. with very little, and I'm scared to death honestly. But I'm going to do it because I have this thing in my head that screams, "You can do this! That dream of being a successful actress is going to come true!"

I have to believe that voice or else I'm going to be paralyzed with fear. I've traveled very little, far less on my own. This is moving to an unfamiliar city on an unfamiliar coast and hoping that someone gives me money to pretend to be someone else. The odds are NOT in my favour, but...I'm going to do this anyway. Because I love acting; I'm passionate about this job and all I want is someone to pay me to do it. I don't expect (nor want really) to be some huge star being followed by photographers and a huge entourage. I just want to do projects I love, with people I admire now, I want to get invited to cons because those are my geeky people, and...I want to act. That's all.

If I Wasn't Me I'd Hate Me Right Now

So, I've been going through my room 9throwing most of it out) and came across a rash of shirts and dresses I wore when I was younger (6th grade seems to be the average age if I'm remembering correctly).

My 6th grade self (braces, overweight, acne, awkward) haaaaaaaaaaaaates current me. Absolutely hates that I look better in shirts and dresses a decade later than when I bought and wore them the first time.

Also, going through all my old journals (those that actually recorded thoughts and didn't just have 'I Love Aaron Carter' scrawled on every page...I sense a bonfire coming on), I realise I was a pretty dumb kid. Never mind the incorrect answers on the vocabulary questions (Really, 5th grade me, expedient means a rule-breaker? Really? You're gonna have to show me the working on that one), I put all my hopes and dreams on becoming a pop star. Yes, I'll give you all a moment to laugh............there we are. Oh, still laughing? I'll wait............good. I was so certain of so much: that Aaron Carter would find me and fall in love with me, that I'd become a world-wide sensation, that Britney Spears would become my best friend (in my defense, it was early 2001, before she lose her marbles).

Silly, silly little me. Glad to see you're *looks at her Supernatural and Torchwood magazines* so much wiser *casts glance over her worn copy of Ten Inch Hero* ...now. Bugger.

Home is Where the Heart Is...

If my heart is found in your town, please do let me know.

I've left St. Augustine and I'm back in Tampa, but...well, as much as sometimes both these places felt like home, now...

No sad things, even if this is more morose musing than actually sad. I want to find that place where I belong. Maybe it's waiting in California (isn't Pasadena Geek Capital of the World? And close to L.A. too...) or in NYC with Mary and Craig or in Texas or Britain. Who knows?

When Did I Become a Romantic Comedy Herione And How Can I Make It Stop?

So, I've just realised something about myself. Actually, I think I've always known, but I finally articulated out loud:

I'm a career woman. I'm determined and ambitious and going to succeed in my chosen profession of acting came hell or high water. When did this happen? When did I stop being a dreamy girl with her head in the clouds and her wedding all planned out. The only thing about any future nuptials I may have that I care about is I want my mom to make my dress and Charm City Cakes to make the cake.

Sure, I still get stupid over a cute person, but I am sabotaging myself deliberately and mostly unintentionally. I never expect to stay in any one place so I can't get attached because the relationship will have a due by date. My job will be beautiful and terrifying and amazing, but it's a gypsy's life. If I don't learn to take chances even with a deadline looming, it'll be another five years before I have a date, maybe longer.

I love my job, I really truly do. I'm not even sure I should call it a job, because it's my life. And when did my life become about one thing?

This isn't meant to be maudlin, but lieblings, just reflective. Huh.

No More to Tread Them Boards

So last night was the last time I'm ever going to walk the Flagler College stage. And I'm okay with that. I feel as though I should be more morose about that. I mean, Bobbi-Jo actually cried when she took her last bow on the stage and I was like, meh. Then again, it wasn't really home, well no more than any stage is a little piece of home for me. And so many people are trying to get me to be excited to be an alum (when I graduate in thirteen days), but I'm not.

Curtain Call is my theatre. Howard W. Blake is my school. If I'm ever in a position to be particularly generous with time or money, it's these institutions who get it. Not USF, although I had good friends and enjoyed (most of) my time there. Not Flagler, even though the same things apply. Curtain Call and Blake are parts of my home.

As for where feels like home...I'm still searching for that.. Who knows? It may end up being L.A. or New York or maybe Vancouver or Dallas or Nashville. I don't know exactly where this manic, unpredictable, beautiful, crazy job of mine will take me.

I like that.

Wanderings Recap

Okay so my wanderings for yesterday (downtown) and today (uptown):

Friday
1. Put in a p/t job application @ Scents of St. Augustine-it smells really good in there.
2. Visited the Taco Shop for the first time and have since decided it's an acceptable AWESOME TACOS NOMNOM until I return to Tampa and my beloved Chipotle's Chipotle's chips are still far superior. Thicker and lime-flavoured FTW Not to mention, I think the place itself is the taco equivalent of Ten Inch Hero's Beach City Grill.
3. Couldn't get my chocolate lime balls fix=sad; cooed at the hermit crabs @ Bombay Trading Company=happy
4. Lots of tourists to wander through and school kids to mess with. Always fun

Saturday
1. Ate a v. v. greasy piece of pizza (the kind where the grease dribbles off for five full minutes when you pick it up). Justified that twenty minute walk to get to said pizza canceled out all fat and calories. $4.50
2. Poked into little antiques store-scored the pirate pitcher I wanted and a beautiful fairy mug for $2.12 (buck each and tax)
3. Waked even frigging farther for a yard sale, where I bought a cute pair of dangly, but light purple earrings. $1
4. Spent $7.12 on everything, walked a lot, and my feet hurt. Good day all in all.

Feeling Electric

I have finally started on my organizations of my life. I'm working through all those pages I've torn out of magazines (half of which have gone bye-bye) and my clothes, books, photos, everything. I'm determined to get this all done before I finish in St. Augustine because an even more daunting task awaits me back in Tampa. I need the organization because I don't know how much I'll need when I go wherever I go and I don't want too much or too little.

Next task is to finish my rough draft of my senior seminar paper. (P.S. the organizing is so not a way to procrastinate on that *tralala* not at all). I'm determined to get through three pages a day and I should be all set by the time Tuesday comes around.

Sending the Good Thoughts

Happy birthday, Jensen Ackles! You, sir, are like a multi-layered parfait of awesome. May you have a truly wonderful day and a great month and a fabulous year! And may this year bring you the gorram Emmy nod you've been deserving since season two!

Secondly, Jared Padalecki, congratulations on your marriage. May life be the kind of roller-coaster you never want to stop riding (yes, that is a little odd, but it was clever and heartfelt in my head).

May both of you have all the happiness you could want (I was going to say all the happiness in the world, but that seemed both overly sappy and a logical fallacy).

No Boys Allowed!

So the sleepover last night? Was. Awesome.

We played Project Runway and, I have to say, the tinfoil dress I wore was fabulous! I helped design it and decided on the details and I worked it on the runway! Tim Gunn would be proud.

We ate so much junk food and played silly games (Apples to Apples, tossing the Truth Ball). We all giggled and laughed and had way too much fun! We even signed pillow cases for each other. Mine's so huge, I'll have to shove three pillows in it!

Then came the films: Mamma Mia, Shaun of the Dead, and (victory!) Ten Inch Hero. Loved it all!

Happy Single Awareness Day!

My plans for Valentine's Day this year:

1. Church-because I feel like it, gorramit!

2. Pick up some treats for later when I will (brace yourselves) attempt to bake).

3. Buy cupcake from Hot Shot's should my baking not be up to snuff (which seems likely)

4. Settle in with Ten Inch Hero and other movie to be determined later (not on the list: My Bloody Valentine. That's in my Halloween Movies list).

5. Go see The Men Who Stare At Goats, 'cause I want to.

Lastly, I plan on sharing the love with my friends, who are way more lasting (and attractive *giggles*) than any partner could be. I love you, my lieblings!

A Super Party Indeed

Last night, I dressed as Catwoman (and yes, there are pictures floating around) and went to a Superheroes Party at Jess and Jimmy’s house.

Oh wow, was it fun! Such great costumes: from James’ homemade Ghostbuster’s outfit to Super Doatsy, Blake’s leather ensemble, Jimmy as Goldmember (oh, dem golden pants), Allyn's late arrival as Mermaid Man and Steph (A) and Andy as She-Ra and He-Man. John came as Captain Hammer, but was disappointing because he couldn’t sing the songs (and had only seen half of Dr Horrible’s Blog *shock*). Jess got me a belt and tail to wear to complete my outfit. My outfit itself was scrabbled together (leather pants, belt-shoulder shirt, cat ears, and a mask I made out of the bottom of my long black pants).

Highlights include:

1. Pin the Tail on the Catwoman (a picture, not me).

2. The Pervert Game-I came in second (which surprised me and then made me sad I didn't come in first)

3. The costumes that were all form-fitting and shiny/bright/drool-worthy. I am friends with some mighty gorgeous people.

4. Eating too much of the Buffalo Chicken Dip of Tastiness

5. Dancing and singing randomly with my friends.

6. The conversations, always the best part of any party. Such hits as Back In Vermont, God I Hope No One Moves On This Question, Insert Dirty Joke About the Penis/Vagina Straws Here, At This Broadway Show I Saw, Waiting For The Lady Gaga Video to Load and Someone Take A Picture of That!

7. The Never-ending Game of Twister (when someone got out, someone else filled in) which I maintained Jess won, though Jimmy was last standing (or balancing). Many pictures were taken and I'm glad I participated earlier (with Stephanie A and Andy) before the cameras came out)

And here I thought I wouldn't find too many friends in St. Augustine. Laugh's on me.

Of Empty Vessels and Their Potential

In my Philosophy of Religion class, we discussed that an empty vessel is more useful in its emptiness (i.e. a full vessel has fulfilled its purpose and it's just sat there). The empty vessel is still waiting to be filled.

I know this sounds very academic (to me, at least), but I'm about to tear any misconceptions of my philosophical prowess down.

I'm currently equating this to acting, my beloved profession. When I was in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, it was a hit. We added three extra shows and gave our all at every performance. But when I was doing that, I felt like a filled vessel, I couldn't have handled another full play because I'm fairly certain my head would have exploded with it (that's not true, but it was how I felt at the time). I stage managed my friend's one-act to get a fix.

Now I've got a part in one of the senior conservatory shows at Flagler, and a callback for a Directing Class show that I have to leave for in about five minutes or so. I'm also preparing to audition for Barefoot in the Park at Limelight and debating whether reading the play ahead of time would be a help or hindrance. If Thespis decides to smile on me (or fuck with me, however you're looking at it) and I get all three parts, I will still not be a filled vessel. Sure my mind will probably start malfunctioning and Jupiter will appear in my senior seminar philosophy paper, but I'll revise that bridge should I come to it.

Maybe it's a offshoot of the fact I'm buckling down to get a degree in Philosophy (yeah...I don't believe it either), but I've been thinking a lot about my love of acting lately. Sure, I can roll my eyes at the orange wig I wore or hate the corset and red prom dress for their difficulties in getting on without help (Caitlin, Stephanie T and Ronnie are still my heroes for the assistance), but however tired I was emotionally or physically, by the time I was onstage I could have cared less. Whenever I'm on a stage or rehearsing or doing anything related to acting, I get such a rush of joy to be working in this medium that everything else seems silly or inconsequential. I hope that passion stays with me my whole life and in every bit of work I do.

After Show Musings

I'm sad that the run of Best Little Whorehouse is over now. My life is mine own again, but it's weird not having anywhere to be (other than classes obviously) and not knowing when I'll see friends again.

We started off at Scarlett's for karaoke. Less the performing, more the dancing and singing along as others sang (and sometimes butchered) good songs. We finally got Jimmy up to do "Wanted Dead or Alive", but some morons got into a bar fight out front and they closed the place down. After spending quite a while in the parking lot, I caught a ride with Ronnie and we all went to Denny's. There we had a really late dinner/really early breakfast. We talked and laughed and mocked because I don't think a one of us wanted our time as castmates to actually end. I remembered that, despite the red prom dress of evil and the quick changes of doom, I love this job because of the crazy wonderful people I get to work with.

Lady Gaga will never be the same to me again.