The Randomness Continues...

I had a nice rebound last weekend. I was out doing some shopping and decided to try some stuff on. To my delight, all of it fit. Granted some of it was snug, but the point is I now have a lot more options available to me in terms of clothes, which is a great feeling. Plus I'm able to take advantage of really great sales prices, something I couldn't do before.

Another thing I noticed was after hours of walking around, my feet weren't sore and my legs weren't tired. I really felt in that small moment that all my hard work this past year has paid off. Even though I'm not the size I would like to be and losing weight is still a struggle, I'm getting fitter all the time. I can only think that if I keep going and continue to monitor my eating, that things will take care of themselves.

* * *

Last week at work was tough. Just felt bombarded and demoralized. I've found though that I've gotten much better at just ratcheting myself down. I have to work against the neurological ruts in my brain that default me to a state of anxiety. I've found that simple things like just focusing on my breathing for a few moments really helps. I calm down and regain perspective. I think part of it is that I feel like I'm fighting below my weight. I get bored. By the same token, I don't want more responsibility than I have, in that I feel like the demands of something more senior isn't something I want to take on. I'm grateful for a job, particularly the one I have, and at the same time, am constantly negotiating my resentment of the time it takes up in my life because it's not fundamentally what I want to do. I'm still trying to sort all this out.

* * *

I had an audition for a play a few weeks ago. I really wanted the part. I got called back but ultimately didn't get it. The pisser was, they asked if I wanted to come back and read for the part of the mother. That really ticked me off. I was thinking, ok if I'm good enough to play 25 years beyond my age range, why aren't I good enough for the lead you called me back for? I politely declined, and frankly, it was nice to do so. It was just nice to say I don't want to do this, for no other reason than that I didn't want to do it.

Part of it was my own fault as well. Well not really. I ordered a copy of the play in plenty of time, but Theatrebooks didn't get it in prior to my audition. I did try. I could have gotten to the reference library, but I ended up not doing this for various reasons. I do work full time, am training and otherwise have a busy life. So essentially, I went into the call back and held my own doing cold readings. I also got called back with actresses with a lot more experience.

I'll keep at it, but damn, I really wanted that part.

Still Truckin'

"Can't act. Slightly bald. Dances." - Studio executive's notes on Fred Astaire's screen test.

This past week was tough, an absolute gauntlet run of meetings and documents, phone calls and emails. It was one of those weeks where I just wished I could be left alone. Fortunately I didn't have too much on the schedule this weekend. I had a nice visit with the folks and Rosy yesterday [along with a Little House on the Prairie marathon] and I've been able to decompress a bit.

On the downside, I've been rejected by two agents so far. On the upside, it's not because they aren't taking me seriously. It's been because I'm either not union or they already have someone like me on their roster. It's funny. As an actor, you like to think you're really unique and have something special to offer. Agents don't see you that way. They're always drilling down to "type".

I'm hampered this way in that I really just want to focus on voice work for now. I don't think I'm going to be cast for any TV work given my current weight. That is slowly but surely resolving itself as an issue, but given my head space right now, frankly I just enjoy voice work a helluva lot more. From what I've heard, going union via just voice work is going to be nigh on impossible, so I'm not quite sure what I do at this point or where I go from here.

I'm just trying to focus on what I can control, because if I don't I'll just end up getting discouraged and depressed. I can control when I work out. I can control how many applications I send out to agencies. I can control if I follow up. I can control if I keep trying or just give in to disappointment. I fundamentally believe I'm meant to be doing this, so I'd rather keep trying rather than give up and hold down an office job the next 30 years. I just need to make the best of what I've got to work with.

The Marine told me to keep the rejection emails. He thinks people will find them funny one day.

Hand Me Down My Walking Cane

This past Sunday I drove my father over to the city's east end to see my grandmother. She'd been quite ill and my Dad had had his right hip replaced, so they were anxious to see each other. I have to admit that I got a little choked up when I picked my Dad up at the house and saw him walking more normally than he has in over two years. Plus he now has a cane to wave about when he's doing his belligerent old man schtick. It's very funny.

On the way over, we were listening to a program called the Sunday Edition on the CBC. They're currently doing a series on music that changed the world, and this latest show was about rap music. I thought it wouldn't be my thing, but it was actually very interesting and though very high level, hit on a lot of the essential points.

My Dad enjoyed it immensely and said that though he wasn't going to run out and buy a rap CD anytime soon, the show had very much informed his understanding of rap and its sensibilities, and that he had a lot more respect for it as an art form.

When we got to my grandmother's I was happy to see her looking better than I expected. She had a bad bought of viral pneumonia back in October and hasn't quite bounced back since. She was recently in the hospital with congestive heart failure.

I really feel for my grandmother sometimes because she is on her own, is old and has a lot of health problems to contend with. Granted, she has a good network of friends who stay in touch, but there's nothing like the feeling of being ill or not quite up to things and not having anyone around who could provide simple comforts of a cup of tea. I remember the year and a bit I was off ill, and it's those simple hurdles of day-to-day loneliness that I had to get over that I remember the most.

And that being said, at least I had Mojo my cat.

Plus at 80+, my grandmother is still as sharp as a tack. Inevitably, she also has to contend with people treating her like she's senile, particularly hospital staff. It all must get so tiring.

At any rate, we were all able to have a nice chat, sandwiches and coffee. I threaded two needles as my granny's eyesight isn't what it used to be and fixed her humidifier. My father waved his cane around at the appropriate moments.

I find as I get older that it is these little moments that stick to my heart and gain in importance. I can't wave a wand and make my grandmother better, but I can wash some dishes and thread needles and listen to her stories. She won't be here forever and will join the line of others I've already lost as I've travelled through life.

I often think about this and my niece Rosy. One day, God willing, she will be here still but me, my sister and my parents will all be gone. I cannot bear the loneliness of this thought for long because it usually isn't contextualized by the notion that she will be a grown woman with a family and friends of her own by then. I usually quickly shift my mind elsewhere when it crops up, because to me my niece will always be my little Rosy.

I suppose I also enjoyed the visit this weekend because the death of Natasha Richardson had been weighing on my mind quite a lot. Like most people, I can't get over the almost flippant quality the circumstances of her death have taken on. It's hard to fathom that one wrong spill on the bunny hill is all it takes.

I remember when I arrived in New York City in early 1993 that we were all abuzz with the fact that Natasha Richardson and Liam Neeson were starring in Anna Christie. Tickets, particularly for poor students were a complete no hoper and I was disappointed. At the same time, if I'm honest, I was also jealous. I coveted her family connections [which is ironic considering that by all accounts, Ms. Richardson moved to New York to escape them] because I saw them as a ticket to the artistic life I was working so desperately hard to have.

The closest I have ever gotten to a Redgrave was when we got free tickets from school to go see Shakespeare for My Father, Lynn Redgrave's one woman show. It was simply a tour de force, absolutely wonderful and afterwards, a group of us waited in the front lobby to perhaps catch a glimpse of her and wave hello.

Not only did we get to say hello, but she autographed my Playbill. I still have it. I will never forget how gracious Lynn Redgrave was. I'm sure she was exhausted, but still she took time to give us autographs, ask us about school, and generally just let us bask, if just for a moment, in the light she gave off.

I get emotional about this because I've heard in news commentary so many others speaking of Natasha Richardson in this same vein. Many reference her warmth, her great laugh, her fierce love for her husband and children, her love of her craft. I think she was at once relatable and inspiring because she struck me as someone who was genuinely enviable for having made the best of their talents, for being someone who seemed comfortable in their own skin. It was refreshing to encounter this in an era of celebrities famous for being wealthy, attending parties, or in general, just behaving badly. It has seemed unbearably cruel to see someone so competent and exceptional at what they do taken in their prime.

It is whimsy at its worst, so I take in the good moments as much as I can, these moments at my grandmother's, spending time with my parents the rest of the day, hearing more funny stories about my niece, having the Marine and my cats to come home to when the day is done.

No matter what else I may ever want out of my life, I have already been given so much. It's important to remember that.

Phew! I Made It!

At last, a week of glorious vacation is upon me. I have no immediate plans, although doing my workouts, sleeping in, going to the museum and seeing some movies courtesy of the gift card I got for Christmas are currently on the agenda.

Last night I didn't get home until 9:30, but it was well worth sucking it up and doing the voice over session. The prospect isn't hanging over my head now and I can truly enjoy my time off. If I'm honest, I did have a genuine case of nerves about the whole thing. It was good to get it out of the way.

The woman I worked with has been in the industry for 20 years, and she was absolutely amazing. I learned more in my session last night than I have in my previous sessions combined. I'm proud of myself. I just went for it and I think I did a good job and the best I could. I'm really happy with how my reel turned out, and I think I've got a good chance at getting an agent this year.

This week was a little bumpy in that my Granny had to go into hospital again. But she's rallied and is going to be home by tomorrow.

Between that, seeing my doctor and finally getting this voice session out of the way, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in a very long time. It was nice to leave the office by 6:15 instead of my usual 11 pm finish before a vacation. It was nice to know that people were still at the office who could deal with anything that came up.

It was nice to feel all caught up.

I'm Pretending It's July

The rain is falling steadily outside. It's just after 3 a.m. and I am pretending that it's the middle of summer and that if I wanted to, I could go outside and sit in the warm night air in nothing but my housecoat. It feels like it's been raining for a week, though realistically it's more like a day and a half. I couldn't tell you however, the last full day of sun we had.

I have felt wretchedly tired this week. Between workouts and work, Christmas is sneaking up on me like a bad cold. How did I get to this point? How did any of us? It just seems every year at this time I'm insanely busy and Christmas becomes one more thing to get done. It's awful and we've completely lost the meaning of the season. Every year I feel this way and I don't know how to shake it.

I have absolutely no idea given my current workload and energy levels how I'm going to get anything done and how I can do anything to appreciate the season. That's what I think is so sad. Christmas isn't about running a gauntlet. It's about taking time to celebrate the birth of Christ [if you're a Christian] and to reflect and be thankful for what you have.

I've been trying to focus my mental efforts on the latter, because I do have much to be thankful for. It's amazing how much a bad work situation can suck the life out of, well your life. My work situation isn't bad in terms of the people or the company, or even the job. It's just the job "right now."

"Right now", I have too much work and not enough resources or time to get everything done. It's been like this for months, so I need to allow for that fact and realize that it's impacting my perspective. Plus I haven't had full time support in nearly two months. The irony is that as difficult as that has been, it been far less difficult than working with the person we let go.

Plus the new year brings an influx of interns, the return of my boss from mat leave and hopefully the conversion of my contract role to full time, assuming things get approved as planned and a job offer shows up in writing. I have to admit, there is a part of me that wishes I could just finish my contract, gracefully bow out and take some vacation, but you have to trust that things work out the way they do for a reason.

Still, I wish I was awake enough to read books and write more than "I did this" and "I did that" for blog entries.

On the upswing, I'm making good progress on the voice over front and should have a demo reel pulled together in the new year. By the summer, I plan to have an agent.

A facebook friend posted that it's only 11 more days before the sunlight starts to return and our days get longer. Thank goodness.

A First

Well I didn't get the part. Had a lovely call from the director yesterday. Essentially, I look too OLD. LOL!

First time in my life this has ever happened. I'm in my late thirties and still get carded on occasion.

But she said that she had gotten quite a lot of talented young actors [and frankly, the show is a "young" show] and it was a presentation thing as much as talent, something I completely understood. She said my audition was "beautiful", that I was very talented and she'd love to work with me in the future.

Hey, I've had worse rejections.

Bouncing Back

All I can say right now about today is that it's a new beginning. Cinder blocks of stress have fallen off my shoulders and I am grateful. Also have another audition tomorrow night. Here's to another winter of rehearsals.

The Unbearable Lightness of Blogging

Despite the hacking cough that trailed me all day, I awoke this morning after a solid night's sleep feeling more definitively well than I have in over three weeks. I've felt a bit shell shocked the past while, lurching between good and bad news as its presented itself. In the past three weeks, I've had a bladder, then a sinus infection, had an uncle die, one of our family dogs was diagnosed with cancer and my best friend's mother passed away after an extended illness [a term that in its particular context is almost ridiculous in its understatement.]

At the same time, I recorded my sung voice work [which I have heard through various people is all over the radio apparently], booked another voice over and did it last night and have another one to do next week, a circumstance I am immensely grateful to the Fates for as I'm not sure how well prepared all my hacking today would have made me to do a good job. Ultimately, you always make it happen when it counts, but still, one always likes to feel at the top of their game in such circumstances.

I'm just grateful for the work and I'm not viewing anything as a guarantee, but I'd be lying if I were to deny having sat at my desk only to temporarily lose myself in the thought of days filled with scripts and microphones instead of websites and corporate machinations. I actually had a not so bad day today and it's on days like this that I think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if my company did extend my contract. Perhaps it's just the anticipation of my vacation next week clouding my judgement.

Yes, I am taking a vacation. I just couldn't hang in there until the end of my contract. I am losing my mind with fatigue and need a rest, even if it's just a week with my ass parked on the couch watching movies. I need to not be at work. Period.

It's a bit lonely tonight. The Marine is out of town with his brother visiting family. I'm typing this listening to my baroque cd in his office. In the meantime, I finally got my MSOffice software loaded on my laptop. Next key step is to get internet downstairs so I can surf and write away as I like without having to bump the Marine off.

I have some great ideas for my play and I'd really like to finish getting them down. Maybe something will come of it.

I've just learned the last little while not to give in to my glums and to keep going.

But more on that later.

Sing, Sing a Song

Romanship, today something happened that I had secretly reconciled myself to the possibility of never happening.

I am getting paid to sing! I bagged another voice gig and I'm doing it this week! Step by little step I am getting closer to my dream and I achieved one of my New Year's Revolutions!

I really can't believe in some ways how much my life has changed this year. I have a new job, a new hard won confidence in myself, and an acceptance that life fundamentally changes all the time. Ten years of bad luck turns in one, people you thought were good friends find other friends instead, you think you'll be in the same job forever - until you're not, relatives you thought were untouchable have strokes.

But I think fundamentally what I've "gotten" is that my life is ultimately my own responsibility. At some point, the statute of limitations on your bad childhood runs out and it's just you getting out of bed every day to make something happen.

I'm a bit tired and worn out right now, as I have a lot going on. But I'm really do feel that if I just try my best, if I just keep going, no matter what some good things will happen.

Ferritin, Poetry and One's Art

"If you never let it show
They're never gonna know.
Keep looking." - Sade

Yesterday, I must admit, started off less than auspiciously.

I woke up tired and grumpy and had to go to my doctor’s office to get my latest blood results.

I eventually got in to see my doctor and although my Vitamin D is now normal [YAY!], my iron stores were up a measly four points.

Here is something about dealing with doctors. AD-VO-CATE y’all. I brought up with my doctor the fact that I've been at supplementation for nearly a year and that I'm getting frustrated. I pointed out that my energy is actually starting to get quite good, but right after my you-know-what, I'm exhausted for a good 10-14 days, something that psychologically speaking is starting to wear me down, not to mention the fact that it makes a good, but demanding job hard to cope with.

She was a little dismissive of this at first, pointing out that there are people with much lower iron stores who function fine and my hemoglobin is fine. But she thought I was taking Floradix. I said, no I'm taking Genestra Iron Proteinate, which are 40 mg capsules and I'm taking 3 a day. That's what it's taking to even get a minimal increase of 4 points.

That got her attention, and she agreed to write me a r/x for infufer which is essentially iron dextran. It's injected. My naturopath recommended it and I’m feeling hopeful.

After this appointment I needed to stop at a nearby Starbucks and get a coffee and some food. The coffee was one of the best I’ve had in quite some time. I sat in an armchair as soft as duvet and watched the sky roll by. Such was its beauty that I was compelled to compose a poem on the spot, which brings me to a feature we’ve not had much of lately

FRIEND, ROMANS IS PROUD TO PRESENT ANOTHER INSTALLMENT OF ITS CONTINUING SERIES: POETIC INTERLUDES

I sit and watch a rolling sky
As puffy white and blue eye tinged as a Cottonelle kitten
The clouds go by
If I had a laser I could shoot them all
PEW! PEW! PEW! PEW!!

After my coffee I turned down a side street to call the Marine to let him know my results, which was not a good idea in that my timing was terrible. A CAA truck had just doored his car so he was, needless to say, a little “distracted”.

Ahem.

Then some a**hole was honking me cause I wasn’t turning right soon enough, which just made me want to cry, because when I did try to turn, my car stalled. And I was tired. And I was fed up. Stupid to get upset I know, but I couldn’t help it. There’s just a level of emotional idiocy and me-me-me-ness out there that is at times, unbearable.

And so I got to work [taking the longest scenic route possible I might add] and contemplated my audition that night, an audition that had been hanging over my head like a sword of Damocles for a couple of weeks. I was really nervous about it, because I was thinking that maybe my previous good experience had maybe been a bit of a fluke. And I’m just feeling really sensitive about my weight right now and just not looking or feeling my best. Plus the director of this show has worked at Stratford, so I wasn’t exactly going to be showing my stuff to a lightweight.

Auditioning is the price you pay for getting to act and I find the vulnerability of it unnerving.

And I’m sure I was just a ranking beeyatch for the Marine to live with the last little while, being the stressball that I am.

But reading this yesterday really helped. So I decided to just chill out. I went home, got a hot bath and a nice meal that the Marine made me and then off I went, practicing my monologue again and again as I drove. I got settled in and waited, and the weird thing was that the longer I waited, the calmer I got. I felt genuinely relaxed, something I’ve never really felt before in those circumstances. I remember seeing an interview with Julianna Moore and she talked about relaxation really be the key to good acting, because then you can just be a conduit for the emotions that will naturally surface. Last night I got a glimmer of what she was talking about.

So I finally got called in, met folks [there were about eight people there as they were auditioning for two plays at once] and talked to the director a bit. He asked about my experience and my training and then I got to do my monologue. It was really quiet and I thought oh boy, I think I’m really effing up here. And then I finished and there was this pause and then the director said and I quote: “Wow. That was just excellent.”

[insert HUGE sigh of internal relief here.]

So I said thanks and then they asked me to stay and read from the play. I did that with another actress, who ironically enough was reading the part I wanted, but no matter. After we finished, the director of the other play asked if I was sure I didn’t want to read for that one too, but I just told him that with my workload, the timing would be terrible with the rehearsal schedule. It would be inevitable that there would be some conflict and I wouldn’t want to let the show down.

So I hear by Thursday if I got a call back for Sunday. It’s in the laps of the Gods at this point. I may not get a call back once they see who could work together physically, etc. The point was, I had a good audition and as I fired up the car and started heading home, I actually rolled down the window and yelled to no one in particular “I AM NOT A FLUUUUUUKE!”

PEW! PEW! PEW! PEW!

Another Zesty Triumph Romanship

Of course I shall spare no detail in my recounting Dear Reader, but for now, a Pepsi awaits!

Curtain Call

"The best part of acting is the drink after the show." Lawrence Olivier

Last night was our final show. I've been a bag of mixed emotions all week, despondent at the end of the run one moment, impatient for it to end the next.

I don't think I could have had a better experience if I had planned it myself, but for now, I'm happy just to get a hot bath and a bit of lunch on the cusp of a matinee free Sunday afternoon.

Three Shows To Go

"It never occurred to me to do something I hated for a living." - Paul McCartney

Ragdoll and I were chatting Saturday about how in many ways, we have started new phases in our lives. Ragdoll has finished the first draft of her book, a three year exercise in diligence, vision and as my Granda used to put it "graft." This year, I've been relatively successful at leaving the more anemic and despondent aspects of my life behind and have been doing my play.

For many years, hell as long as I can remember, we've both dreamed big dreams, had definitive visions for our lives and what they could be. And now it seems, we're both a little bit closer to living what we envisioned.

After we finished our matinee yesterday, "Costanza" was talking about the fact that we only have three shows left and then we're done. I couldn't help but agree with her when she said that it will be all she could do not to burst into tears at our last show.

As tiring and downright exhausting as this play has been, I haven't been this happy in ages. This play reacquainted me with a long abandoned yet fundamental part of myself. And as much as I am looking forward to getting time back to be at home, to write and to see the Marine, family and friends, there's another part of me absolutely dreading this return to "normal" life, that dreads losing that magical feeling that walking into a theatre gives you.

I think way too much and get ahead of myself at times. I'm making a concerted effort to see the glass as half full. I'm thankful for my new job and the money I make doing it. But I also can't stop thinking about how I'll act and write full time and keep a mortgage paid. It occurred to me yesterday that if this is meant to be, then things will somehow work out. I just need to keep my end of the bargain. In my bones I believe that if I show up and work hard, I will get there. All I know is that acting and writing are two of the few things in my life that occupationally speaking, don't feel like an utter waste of my life force.

I have to admit that the past few weeks have been a great ego boost. I've gotten great feedback from so many people, a lot of whom were complete strangers who just wanted to tell me how much they enjoyed the show.

I can't help but believe that stands for something.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Just a quick note to say Hi. Play has been going very well and I have found new levels of endurance having started a new job and battling a cold at the same time all my theatrical activities have been going on.

My folks and the Dumbarton Mob came on Friday night and they really enjoyed it. My Dad even admitted that although he expected to like me, he didn't expect the overall quality of the production to be so good.

What I do know is that the bug has bitten back with a vengeance, and I'm going to do everything I can over the next few years to make acting a full time gig.

But for now, a hot bath and some telly are in order. An evening at home. What bliss.

Noises Off

Well after a week of rehearsing/performing I'm finally getting to crash today with no performances until Wednesday. Yay!

So the summary is:

New job - meh.

Opening night - a triumph really in all respects. I had folks asking me at the after show wine and cheese if I was a professional. A PROFESSIONAL! Another quote from the evening: "The best show I've seen here in 30 years." Sure, it's community theatre but so what? I'll take what I can get.

2nd night - Well the second night curse hit. After a relentless week and the adrenaline rush of opening night, we had a literal comedy of errors backstage and on. Props left on or off, missed lines [I had to pinch hit in scene 4 last night LOL!], unprovoked attacks by stage curtains, my last scene dress getting put on backwards and a weary audience of about 35 who had trudged through one of the worst winter storms ever to get there. There were about as tired as we were I think.

Ah theatre. Never boring.

And I Thought Last Week Was Long A**

It already feels like it should be Friday, probably because instead of relaxing and running lines the last two evenings, I've been at the office. Yesterday I was packing up and tonight the Marine is coming with the car so I can take everything home. Thank God for The Marine. That's all I'll say.

Why all this now? Because I have rehearsal tomorrow night and I sure don't plan on being here Friday any later than necessary.

Anyway, I've found the winter weather getting to me a bit. As I was cleaning up drives today, I came across a back up file of Martha's Vineyard pics. Think of June, flowers and the sea. Have to admit that I felt better after looking at them. Hope you do too.

One Week to Go

I don't think I'd ever been so glad to get to the end of a week as I was last night. I have to admit that after two more days of orientation, any doubt about my new job left me.

As it stands now, I'm just trying to not keep my frustration in check and get things ready for my departure. For the first time in my career, I won't be heading into an environment where I have to build things from the ground up and leave detailed instructions for my successor. Instead, I'm picking up where somebody else left off. What a concept. It's a feeling of complete and utter relief.

Slowly but surely, I am restructuring and breaking bad patterns in my life.

Although I have to say, it will be interesting having my tech week for the show the same week I start my new job. We've made great progress though and I'm pretty much fully off book now, due in no small measure to the Marine running lines with me. It has, however, caused us no small amount of hilarity having him do all the different voices and accents. I live with Richard Burton. Who knew?

Wide Awake and Wondering

I woke up early this morning, as I tend to do all the time now, caught in that weird space between edginess and vague terror. Can't seem to shut my brain off these days, there's too much going on.

The play is coming along well and I am almost [almost!] off book, which considering I'm in almost every scene is no small achievement. The major obstacle now at rehearsals is for every one to know it cold, and none of us does yet which means we stumble and lose momentum, but we keep going and it gets better. I suppose what I love and hate about this play is that being involved in it has forced me to not really care about my feelings and just go for it. I don't really have time to get all caught up in my own crap. "Do I look fat in this?" goes out the window when you're in a scene and that other person is relying on you.

That being said, I seem to be showing some cracks. Yesterday, one of the older actresses said to me "Is this the first part this big you've had?" and I said that truly, yes it was but that it wasn't so much rehearsals that were killing me but the combination of that with work right now. She said that's it's a demanding part, and she thought that I was doing a great job and contending with things incredibly well.

To be honest, I had never thought about it that way: "demanding". I suppose I had always broken it down in my head in terms of tasks; x many rehearsals this week, x amount of lines to get under my belt before next rehearsal; try not to keel over! LOL.

But demanding is not something I had really acknowledged I guess, because I was just so happy to get the role. It's almost like I can't allow myself any negative feelings about it, can't jinx things by passing judgement on a wonderful opportunity I've received after the drought I had experienced.

But I would be a liar if I said that there have never been occasions, where I wanted nothing more than a Sunday or evening of unscheduled time. I've just had to put that aside and enjoy being in the moment of things.

"The moment" didn't seem so grand yesterday when we had our costume parade - although there was one moment of extreme hilarity when I donned my blue coat and twenties era hat and walked out into the theatre declaring my name was Paddington and I was lost. A good laugh was had by all as the saying goes.

But being the fat girl is never fun and I've got to get back into working out. I'm trying to cut myself some slack and not beat myself up. I was doing well, then went back to work where everyone was coughing and spluttering. Then I was rehearsing in the winter in unheated space. Then we had three rehearsals in a row. That damn near killed me, and this is the first week since mid-January I feel pretty much 100% again, tired from all the activity I have going on, but still 100%.

So I have to do something I hate doing; think in the short term. I'm a planner by nature. I hate not knowing what's going on, not having all the facts, not knowing the objective and the steps that need to be taken to get there. [Jesus. H. Roosevelt. No wonder my present job has made me mental!] I hate having to be reactionary, because God only knows that will happen anyway, never mind your own disengagement or franticness creating it for you. I have to get to the next visit to the club, the next walk on the tread mill. It's as simple as that. If I focus on how out of shape I am, I just get discouraged. I have to stop getting mad about it too. Some of the reasons behind my weight are my fault; some of them aren't. At the end of the day, the only certainty is that I'm the only one who can solve it. And I know if I focus on the length of the journey ahead, I'll lose my commitment.

And there's my new job. Orientation has been going well, but it's a very different world than what I'm used to. On the upswing, there's a lot of things about my present job that I just won't have to contend with in my new one. Still, I did wonder as I lay wide eyed in the darkness this morning if I had done the right thing or if my discomfort was not a genuine bad gut feel, but more the uncertainty of the unknown.

Sometimes I feel like I would gladly put aside all my ambitions for a year off. There I said it. Really, that's what I want right now. It's what I've wanted for years, just some time to recharge the batteries and not be worried about bills. That's why despite everything I feel incredible freedom with this new gig. The extra money I'm making will let me save.

I'm tired. A year from now my job is over and I'm taking a few months off when it's done before I get back into the swing of things. That's all I know right now. That's what I want.

Spring Will Soon Be Sprung

And may I just say Oh.mah.guh.



This is the latest addition to Claire Murray's Line - the Antique Bird Collection. I don't know what it is about these hook rugs, but I adore them. I nearly lost it in Martha's Vineyard when I discovered there was a Claire Murray store in Edgartown where we were staying.

In other "it will soon be Spring news" the Gardening Issue of Martha Stewart Living arrived this week. I've actually cancelled my subscription, not because I dislike the magazine, [quite the opposite] but because I can never seem to devote the time to reading them and it seemed a waste. But I always consider this particular issue a bellweather of sorts. Once it arrives on my doorstep, winter can't survive much longer.

At any rate, I have a day off today in what has been a tough week of work, training for my new gig and rehearsals. Projects continue unabated, orientation is always just that, and rehearsals are ramping up because we're now off book. Friday night we went to a pub afterwards for notes. I haven't laughed so hard in ages. I've really enjoyed being in this play. I don't think I could have planned a better experience myself. As much as I'm looking forward to getting my weekends back, I will miss it very much. Can't say I'll miss the snow that went with it though. LOL!

GOOD. LORD.

If I ever doubt my commitment to the theatre. I'll take inspiration from this woman:



Then again, after yet ANOTHER 20 cm of snow, maybe this woman on the beach is a better option. Lady Be Kool indeed. I wish everything about me was stylishly long. Except my boobs that is.