Lyrics

Last night I dreamed that I re-wrote Overly Attached Girlfriend's song "Maybe You're Delusional" (parody of a One Direction Song/Taylor Swift) and was singing it to Taylor.

"Maybe you're f***king fabulous!"

Wow.

Did *not* know I felt that way about Taylor.

Right

Over Christmas I fell into a bit of a depression (ha -- "a bit") and gained a lot of weight back.  I wasn't sleeping, I was stressed out, and I was having some very dark thoughts.  I didn't know how to get out of the life I'm living (because it really isn't what I want).

When I got back from Christmas Break I discovered I could keep the insanity at bay by coming home and laying on the bed and coloring while listening to Disney music for an hour before I went on with the rest of my life.  I self-medicated by watching waaaaay too much telly and eating things I should *not* be eating (meaning sugary stuff.  I'm allergic to white sugar).

I even got to the point where all I wanted was a drink and a cigarette, which is bad.  I have asthma and therefore have never smoked, but I've been around smokers long enough now that when I'm stressed I instantly want a cigarette in my hand.  And I just want a nice hard cider or a rum and coke to take the edge off.

Not good.

I don't think you should have to go through life hanging onto the unhelpful idea of something to 'take the edge off' every day.  If that's the life you're living, something's gotta change.

So there I was -- stressed, depressed, trying desperately to pretend that everything was ok and that I wasn't going to do something drastic like shave my head or run stark naked through campus just to get fired and start over somewhere else.  (Seriously...you have no idea how strong these ideas were at one point)

It's a combination of things, really, that make me feel this way, but the biggest thing is that I'm not doing what I want to do.  I want to act, to tell stories.  I can write my way into oblivion but acting out stories is the THING I want to dedicate my life to.  The writing is a side job.  But not being able to do either consistently while I sit here and stew in my own juices was getting destructive.

And then the week of auditions appeared.

The weekend before, I fixed all my breakfasts and lunches ahead of time.  I planned out all our dinners.  I did laundry and put up outfits for the week.  And I started washing my face and exercising again.

It wasn't even conscious.  It was just...well, now I have something to look forward to.  Something to live for.

Quite melodramatic, but a telling picture of what matters to me.  Even though I won't get paid for this directing job, it doesn't matter.  I'm part of a story.  I'm treating it as a professional opportunity.  After all, I started out working crew (for Eve Redeemed), then tried out and got parts in two plays.  Directing is the next step, I guess.

I'm already ecstatic at the thought of rehearsals (even the early morning one), costumes, working one-on-one with actors as they create a character, the funny things that happen on set, set design, and performance weekend...the thrill of it is tangible.

I'm still stressed out (I still have to work my part-time job, after all) and I really need to learn to drive so I can get off-campus when I feel the need, but being able to put my creative energies into something lets the pressure cooker in my mind let a little steam off.

I can't really describe the thing that tilted back into place when this process of production started, only that something internally righted itself.

Which is a sign to me that this, being part of a story, is the thing I need to be doing.

My Dream

I feel like David Cross's character (Tobias Funke) in Arrested Development when I tell people, "I want to be an actor!"

Everyone goes silent and it feels like...they pity me?  Or are embarrassed by the big dream I have?

Look.  I know I'm not classically beautiful, rom-com/love story material.  I get that.  I'm not interested in playing that role.  It's why I've considered moving to England where the looks don't matter as much as the talent (and if I go to school and find I have some actual talent, well then!  What's stopping me?).  I'm currently watching The Office and Being Human (both UK versions) and the females in there are...well, they're talented.  Much better than a lot of film actors here.  And beautiful in their own ways.  Just because they aren't skinny and don't look like our modern idea of feminine beauty doesn't mean they can't tell stories.

(See Dawn from The Office and Annie, Dr. Jaggart, and Nina from Being Human -- all beautiful, none of them stick-thin models with perfectly symmetrical faces)

My only hang-up is that British people are much more open and cool with cursing, nudity and etc.  I don't know how far I'm willing to go down that route.

So here I am in America, where apparently only pretty people get to dream of telling stories to the masses.

But that isn't quite true anymore, and if you're willing to fight for good roles and refuse the stereotypical ones, you can do great things -- Tina Fey might be skinny but she refuses to do nude scenes and writes her own things (another avenue I've considered).  Miracle Laurie, who is tall and big-boned, and Amber Benson, who is a normal weight (about my weight, actually), got to be in Joss Whedon stories (Dollhouse and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, respectively).  All of them uniquely pretty.  America Ferrera (Ugly Betty) is another example -- a mixed race, average weight girl (very beautiful) playing a lead role in a TV series.  

There's a scandal in media now because a 'fat' girl is writing a show where she is the main character and has more love interests than her skinny friend (heaven help us).  Jezebel, I think, wrote an interesting article about it.  But that kind of thing is slowly dying out (I believe), partially because there are so many of us watching British shows where people are...'plain' and blowing us away with their talent (Martin Freeman and the girl who plays Irene Adler in BBC's Sherlock come to mind).

I guess what I'm saying is...I see some peoples' point of view when I tell them I want to act.  I'm getting older, I haven't had lots of training, I'm not in an area conducive to doing what it is I want to do...and also, I'm plain Jane and I don't take care of myself like I should.

I take responsibility for not being healthy.  I'm out of shape again and I need to make changes in my life if I'm to actually go somewhere and act.  I also need to take responsibility for not being happy and make those changes as well.

But I can't help it that I'm plain.  I've got good features -- my eyes, lips, ears, and I've got a nice, curvy figure when I'm healthy.  But my face is androgynous at worst and 'plain' at best.  

I'm finally ok with that.  Who cares what I look like if I can act?  The stories I want to tell aren't about pretty girls who have everything.  I want to tell stories about people who struggle.  Who hope.  Who dream.  Who may not be the best looking people but are the best kind of people -- or the absolute worst because of reasons (I think I'd love to play a villain or two).

I think I could be a solid character actor in shows like Supernatural, Being Human, Dollhouse...sci-fi/fantasy, stories that explore humanity and have something of import to say.  Maybe my looks will actually save me from doing work on Dawson's Creek or The Secret Circle or Cougartown.

This is something I'm going to be talking to my actors about (auditions are tomorrow).  I don't care what you look like so much (apart from the right age/type) as long as you work hard and you have some talent.  You can't carry a story if you just expect people to fall in love with you while you're staring at the screen while you bite your lip.  You'll just become an internet meme.

I've dreamed this dream my whole life and I've finally become sick of running from it.  I found a teacher here who holds an 8-week master class and I'm going to use some of my tax refund money to pay for it.  I'm directing a play this semester and am looking forward to auditioning around town in the fall, along with producing a short film with my husband.

I want to be an actor.

And the only person who can stop me from doing that is myself.

Perp and Chicken

Last night I dreamed I was part of a police force and we were investigating the murder of a college girl. I suspected her roommate.  They'd been high school friends.  I got into their dorm and knocked their door.  I got in and the room was lavish.  I mean, I went over to inspect the curtains and I knew they hadn't come cheap (the fabric was from some store that I don't remember now).  It was decorated like a fancy French hotel (draped fabric everywhere, sleigh bed, neutral and warm tones) and I knew the parents had spent thousands just to decorate this room and that this girl would probably have new stuff every semester.

I started poking around the furniture (all wood, all glossy cherry finish) and behind the desk I found a bunch of stuff linking the two roommates -- high school pictures, programs from school, notes shared, etc.  The live roommate came in and pitched a fit when she saw me with the stuff, which had been shoved behind the desk.  She couldn't bear to look at it.  I put it all in a pizza box and went out, letting my captain know she was definitely a suspect.

Then I dreamed I was in a friend's dorm room and he was telling me about this dream he'd had.  He said there was a baby chicken in it.  He wanted to know what it meant.

"It might signify a new beginning, a birth of sorts," I said.  I went on to explain, in detail, what it could signify and I felt as if this was what I was supposed to be doing.  It was right.  Just...weird, explaining peoples' dreams to them.

Alarms

Late last night, I dreamed I woke up with my alarm but fell back asleep and that my husband didn't wake me up and when I did open my eyes to check the clock again, it was lunchtime and I had to rush to work and apologize to my boss for coming in so late.

Early this morning, I woke up with my alarm but then fell back asleep.

I dreamed I was in a hunting lodge with my mother.  We were folding laundry.

Then I dreamed I was in the basement of our old log cabin and I was dueling with Cary Elwes (a la Princess Bride) and my husband.  It wasn't real dueling, although I think I did get Cary with the blade (which was really springy).  I dueled them both and won.

Then I rocked my husband to sleep in my arms.  I was content just holding him and looking at his darling face.

Then of course I woke up and realized I had 5 minutes to get to work.  :/

Earnest Work

Today I got twelve scripts for the upcoming spring production of The Importance of Being Earnest.  Mine is in a special binder and I've already lovingly flipped through it and tried to stop being giddy at the very thought of telling this story.

While I'm sad that I can't be in it, directing is a new challenge and last year I promised myself I would do things that scared me, to push myself beyond what I expect of myself, and to work hard for what I want.

So this will be an exercise in all three.  I'm absolutely terrified (and thrilled, at the same time) at this opportunity.  Acting was safe.  This is something I've never done before.

Much like my knitting and crochet projects that I'm currently at work on.

I'm attempting amigurumi (crocheting several things to make one plush animal) and socks.  A dragon and yoga socks, to be precise.  I'm learning new stitches in both (or re-learning) and the thing I'm discovering is that you have to have the right tools (so obvious but I'm so inclined to just wing things).  I need the right size needles and yarn.  I'm going to have to re-do my dragon once I get a smaller crochet hook.

I think directing is the same.  I need the right tools.  I'll be talking to a few people who have already directed, as well as watching some Inside the Actor's Studio episodes with directors (I already have Steven Spielberg on the list).  And I'm making lists for myself.  What I need to communicate to the actors (which requires a lot of forethought -- what do I need them to know?  How do I feel about certain aspects of theatre?  When do I need to say these things?), when to schedule things (I need to make a timeline), how to communicate (Google calendar?  Paper?  E-mail?), and how to go about thinking through every tiny little detail, right down to the actors' makeup.  I also need to watch other productions to get ideas for set dressing, costumes, and blocking.

I picture things in my head constantly -- addressing the people auditioning, talking to the actors, being in rehearsals, spending time with the cast, taking pictures...

Lots of prep required beforehand, but I've got two weeks until auditions.

I can't wait to meet my cast!

The Last Episode

I'll never understand why Freaks and Geeks wasn't on TV longer.

I've said it before, if I can ever reach the pinnacle of the emotion Judd Apatow manages to bring to his work, I'll be a happy and contented writer.

The last episode, "Discos and Dragons" is the perfect example of why this show is so great.

People grow up.  They change.  They make choices that define their lives, often without even knowing it.  And kindness, heartache, anger and confusion reside quite frequently together.

I identify with Lindsey, the main character.  She has a somewhat solid family, she gets good grades, and she's smart.  But after her grandma died, she starts acting out, working through her grieving by hanging out with the "wrong" people and often doing things she would never have done before her grandmother's death.  Lindsey is growing up and realizing life isn't all black and white and that the people looked down on are often just as lonely and precious as the ones on top, and people are never who you think they are.

But I really love and strongly identify with James Franco's character, Daniel Desario.  Although our family lives differ greatly, Daniel is...down on himself.  He characterizes himself as stupid (particularly, bad at math), no good, with no future.  Pointless.  But he's often the one who is kind, the quiet listener, the one who wants more out of life than all the rest.

He's lonely, apart, even in the group.  To see where he finally gets accepted as he is brings tears (of happiness) to my eyes.  

And he is smart.  Just not in the school sense.  He's dedicated, with a work ethic.  He wants so badly to be good at something.

As a child I was very angry, quiet and a bit of a con.  I wished I could be in public school so I could get into fights, because that was the only way I knew how to deal with my anger.  I listened to people, and I figured out ways to get what I wanted (I conned several people out of their own toys).  I am a lot like Daniel.  I'm also trying to find out what it is I'm good at (if anything) and if there's any hope of doing something more with my life.

Freaks and Geeks makes me contemplative and nostalgic.  It's the childhood I imagined for myself that I never got (which...might be a good thing).  I miss the 80's.  And I'm really going to miss watching this show.

Two Birds

Most days, I'm content to curl up with the iPad and watch episode on episode of something (Supernatural or Inside the Actor's Studio, currently) and just watch the day fade.

Other days I'm ready to get out there and plunge into the action.

But a crippling fear overtakes me and I almost blow off my convictions because hey, it's easier to stay home and dream instead of doing something about them.

...I'm getting more and more convinced, however, that I want to go back to school.  For acting.  And writing.  Part of me thinks of the writing as a 'safety' in case I can't make it as an actor (I could be on British television with my looks, but I have a hard time convincing myself that I'll make it in Hollywood), but underneath is a current of "I want to tell my own stories".

The husband and I have been looking at different schools (Regent's the one we're currently inquiring about) and while he can go straight on to grad school, I'd have to take undergrad acting classes as pre-reqs (which I don't mind, but it will take me longer to get a degree and meanwhile I'm getting older) and so there's a sense of...urgency?  Nervousness? Not sure...there's an undercurrent of "I need to decide what I'm really doing with this."

Which can be boiled down to "I want to tell stories with other people."  But what does that look like, for me?

Writing on a TV show?
Acting in a TV show (my preferred option)?
Acting in theater (not my most favorite option)?
Acting in film (extra, supporting cast)?
Web series?
Short films?
Indie movies?
Radio plays (which are in fact making a comeback)?

These two components, acting and writing, are meant to go together, I'm thinking.  I've discovered several actors or people in Hollywood doing both -- Leigh Bardugo (who wrote the best YA fantasy last year) is a makeup artist and writer; Pauley Perrette (NCIS) is a published author as well as being the most beloved TV character (there've been studies done) ever.  So it isn't crazy (or at least not *as* crazy) to think I could do both, right?  In some capacity?

The research I've done has made it all seem much more intimidating.  Listening to Inside the Actor's Studio has been calming as I've learned about the hardships actors have had to endure (Johnny Depp was a musician and selling ink pens over the phone until his friend NICHOLAS CAGE persuaded him to try acting).  It has also been encouraging to see similarities in background and family and realize that in a lot of ways, I have the background of an actor.  There are reasons I want to tell stories.

I just have a hard time because I start thinking about what I'm comfortable doing (and what I'm not) and which programs will be reasonable about that and which programs I won't be able to get into because of that (I'm not comfortable doing sex scenes.  Maybe something will change my mind, but right now, no way.  Although, as I've said, my looks will protect me since I won't be doing any rom-coms as a leading lady).

If I'm going to be picky about what I play (and nervous about where a TV character will go in 3-7 years on screen), will I really even get parts I want to play?

Which leads me back to what Sylvester Stallone and Matt Damon did -- wrote their own stories and never gave up on being in the movie, even if everyone told them "It won't work -- no one knows who you are."

To that effect, I have two ideas for movies I would *love* to see.  And I could play the characters, given the time and opportunity and training (I think.  Still convincing myself I should see if I have that spark).  So...I'm writing down a bunch of ideas at the moment while still trying to finish my NaNo novel.  Maybe finishing that will allow me to turn to these screenplays this year.

I've also got two short stories I'd love to turn into short films.  And since I'm writing, why not act?  It gives me two credits (acting/writing in two films) and that's something to put on my resume besides plays and an IMDB credit for costumes/makeup.

So there's a storm of stuff happening in my brain right now and it's all very intimidating and scary and wild and...

But every time I talk myself out of it, I fall back into daydreaming and planning, because there's nothing else I'd rather do.  Nothing.  I can't think of one other thing I'd devote my life to.  If I can't act/write, I will cease to exist as me.

Keeping hold of that while trying to break through my hang-ups about my looks and seeming lack of talent is difficult.

But sometimes it takes hold of me and I can't shake it.

This year, I'm going to concentrate on directing The Importance of Being Earnest (CIU play, spring production) and learning some audition pieces for the fall, in case I audition at local theatres.  I'll also be working on my short film scripts and gathering research and plotting the two screenplays I have in mind (both historical fiction).  And I'll be listening to Inside the Actor's Studio, reading books on acting and potentially finding a weekly acting class to attend (having a hard time finding one at the moment).

I can barely wait to begin.

Regrets

The night before last I dreamed I was at the old, old log cabin in Cosby, TN which I rarely dream about.  A family from our old Baptist church was there, and their son -- my old friend Andy -- was there.  He hadn't grown at all (in age/height).

In real life, Andy and I were great friends until a new girl came along.  He started teasing her (looking back, he was probably flirting but of course I didn't know that) and she told him to stop and he wouldn't, so I punched him in the shoulder and made him cry.  We weren't friends after that and while the new girl and I became friends, we drifted apart and she was never as good a friend as Andy.

That's probably one of the biggest regrets I have, ending my friendship with Andy.

So in my dream, I saw Andy and I said, "I miss you."

And I hugged him, held him tight and said, "I really freaking miss you."

---

Last night I dreamed that I was protecting a small boy from a girl playing harp in an apartment with wooden floors.  She had long black hair and she wasn't human.  (I'm not quite sure what she was -- a ghost, a demon?)

I managed to get him out of the apartment while she was playing but apparently was too late to save him because he was shocked that I'd "saved" him when he'd already become a monster.