In my dreams, we're still screaming

It is a gorgeous day. Or at least it is for Indiana, PA in February.

I slept in until 1pm today.



I am sufficiently caffeinated.



I have a wonderful song in my head.

We may be allowed outside for stage combat today to practice rapier and dagger.

Not half bad. :)

and one more for the road

a shuddered inhale and another
the realization of breathing, the movement of air
gives up the need to stutter out lines
and exhale one after the other

inside the labored dream state
one can see for years and leagues and wrinkles
our measurements, our sentiments
spaces we love and time we hate

she speaks

artwork speaks to us in a million ways. today it spoke to me in pictures.












(i came across all of these and many more on ffffound.com - check it out. really.)

let yourself go.

'Twas a day of indulgence. Though if I were to be completely honest with myself, I know that the frugal little person in the back of my head restrained me just a bit.

Things that are great:

Black leather

Weekly Planners

Comfy shoes

Coffee

White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake

Shiny, flippy, curve-hugging dresses

Citrus shampoo

Vanilla EVERYTHING

Yeah, I definitely hit up the after-Christmas sales today. Ah, the wonders of discounts, clearance racks, and coupons. Thank you, Santa, for allowing me this day of joy and merriment. I smell good and my belly is full of delicious empty calories. Mmmmmm... yay. :)

lives running parallel

My dear friend Geoff and I have the extraordinary circumstance of fate in which whatever happens to one of us will happen to the other usually in a matter of days. I could list examples of said phenomenon as they apply directly to Geoff and myself. However, I won't. Some are a little... personal. And by "personal", I actually mean "horribly embarassing and if he ever caught wind of this post, he may turn bright red on the spot". So... yes.

Anyway, we discuss the goings on of our lives fairly frequently and when something similar happens to both of us, it's sort of become an "Oh, look - another one" kind of moment of understanding. Every now and then it can feel pretty draining. Sort of like "Really? Why, oh why, powers that be, must you inflict such misery not only on me but on a dear friend? Was that really necessary? I don't think so."

Mostly though, it's almost comforting. We don't even have to say the words "Yep. I've been there." Uhh... yeah. No shit I have. It happened last week. I told you this over coffee before class. Duh.

As awful as it can be sometimes (like having your life flash before your eyes but with someone else in your place), I know Geoff has my back. He knows exactly what I'm saying and vice versa. In a way, I am both cursed and blessed to have found him. (Love you, princess. Rawr.)

What I am actually trying to discuss is that I have found yet another kindred spirit! Please hear me out before you judge me. Please? I beg you to listen. It may sound cliched. Ready? Promise? No judgment? Cool.

I have recently come across the publication "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. No, I have not seen the movie. I am of the opinion that one should always read the book before seeing the movie and when one does experience the film, one should remain as objective as possible and view the book and the movie as two totally seperate entities. (What I'm trying to say, book/movie lovers of the world, is STOP comparing the Harry Potter films to Ms. Rowling's original works. It will not do you any good to stress over scenes that were cut or what was left out here and there and whether or not Draco Malfoy would ever REALLY act that way. Keep in mind that Malfoy is a FICTIONAL CHARACTER and therefore OPEN TO INTERPRETATION. M'kay?)

I digress.

My point? Don't judge a book by it's flick. Nor a flick by it's book. There is creative license involved on both sides and one should... sigh. Point made? Thanks.

ANYWAY. Though I have yet to experience the cinematic version of "Eat Pray Love", I intend to eventually. But for the moment, I am focused on the book.



SO. This gal Liz. She spends a year travelling. Italy, India, then the Indonesian island of Bali.

Can I just tell you a little about myself first? This may clear a few things up.

First of all, you know how people addicted to certain chemicals are referred to as "druggie"? You can call me a "foodie". I cook every day of my life, whether the recipe is simple or elaborate. Whatever. I cook a lot. I eat a lot. Food is a HUGE source of happiness in my life. The Italians? THEY GET IT. They just... DO. No Italian I have ever met would dare judge my love of ice cream. Nor do they frown upon my pasta binges (which my roommate - or anyone who knows me well enough - will tell you) happen on a regular basis... almost daily, as a matter of fact. Shut up. Sophia Loren once said herself in reference to her figure "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti." So there.

Either way, food. Italy. OH. MY. GOD. ...drool...

Second, Italian culture FASCINATES me. I joke all the time that when I do get to hell (it'll happen, I promise) that I want an apartment with a view of Benito Mussolini's mansion because the Italians have such beautiful architecture. The sculptors? The painters? Even the language!! It sounds so... so... SEXY. Holy mother of pearl! ...more drool...

Third, I love yoga. I'm a bit out of practice, but every time I get the chance to do it, I feel amazing. It's like I'm connecting with an entire higher level of myself. I'm all white light and energy and zen. This beautiful sensation washes over me. My whole body feels instantly better. I am focused and I am calm and I am one with all things. I can't describe it as accurately as I'd like. If you've never had such an experience, I highly recommend it. Really. Go. Now. Do it.

Fourth, I really believe Hinduism has it right in terms of prayer. No offense to all those who pray differently; I'm just saying this has been most effective in my personal experince. Hindu meditation focuses mainly on GIVING. You concentrate on your chakras to push your mantra out of you in an effort to give back to your higher power while keeping yourself open and able to recieve IF it is given. With most other forms of prayer (bear in mind that I was raised Irish-Catholic), it's mostly along the lines of "Thanks, God. You've been great, but could you help me out with this? I need world peace and a million dollars and a pony and a bike and a doll..."

Fifth, I've had a few struggles with depression myself. Not fun stuff and not something I'm at all willing to discuss in detail. It's just... yeah.

Sixth, the need for balance? Whoa, boy, Liz, are we on the same page (haha. Book pun. Page. Get it? Sigh...), or what? I am constantly struggling to keep all the elements of my life in order. Finding a balance between earthly desires and unearthly ones? Yes, please.

And now:

Dear Liz Gilbert,

I recieved your book "Eat Pray Love" as a Christmas gift this past weekend. Being an avid reader, I immeadiately finished the book I was on at the time and dove into yours.

THANK YOU. For getting it. For helping me to realize I am NOT the only one in the world who gets really excited over words like "Attraversiamo". Nor am I the only caucasian Christian-raised woman who has an undying love for Hindu meditation. I, too, am desperately trying to seek some sort of clarity as to what I need to do in order to achieve balance.

I cannot possibly thank you enough for making me feel, in an odd sort of way, CONNECTED.

With Love,
M

Baby, it's cold outside and I sure do miss home...

fairfax, virginia was home for five years. i've never lived anywhere that long. yes, two of them involved college and periodic visits back and forth, but... i don't know.

so much happened to me there. so many people influenced me so significantly. i may not have grown up there as the majority of my comrades had, but it was still just as special to me.

woodson high was my first public school (which might not seem like much but it sure was something to an army brat). i learned to drive. had my first beer. fell in love. got my first job. made so many real, honest, lifelong friends it made me cry. i'd never had that kind of support before. only Tina, my best friend, fully understands exactly how much that means.

i think of it now because here in villanova, pennsylvania - the small suburb of philly - it's snowing.

like i said, i've kind of already lived in PA for two years. of course it snows. it blizzards. it freezes! the cold, fluffy precipitation is not what gets me. i looked outside the front window this afternoon and could not see the street. or the yard or the driveway. that's still not what strikes me.

i can't tell how much snow there is.

that must sound so odd. the obvious answer is that it snowed a lot. tons. i get that. i really do. but... how much? how high does the snow reach?

in fairfax, i used to look out the back door of the garage and i could tell exactly how much. almost to the centimeter. i knew how high the fence was, and the trees and the ramp to the shed. every time i guesstimated how many inches had fallen, i was always pretty accurate.

here, i can never remember how high our fence is. or the mailbox. or the bushes. i can't tell how much snow there is without checking weather.com.

this, for one reason or another, bothers me.

follow your bliss

today is my mother's birthday. dad and i took her out to this mediterranean place for lunch and we actually had some good conversation. the most interesting of which was this:

i was explaining to mom how my vision has changed over the course of the last semester. my directing class focused a lot on one's personal vision and the journey one takes to help it grow.
on our last day of class, jason (our professor) had us watch a video of jonathan harris, a guy who had already travelled so much and influenced so many simply by doing what jason is always encouraging us to do: "follow your bliss"

jonathan harris talked about three big things in this video. a website he and a friend put together that analyzes how people online are feeling ( www.wefeelfine.org ). a whaling community he spent a week with in the arctic ocean and the pictures he took every five minutes on the dot. and a trip he took to bhutan where he went around to various locals to ask them how happy they felt and what their wishes were.

as i explained each of these things to my parents, i could see mom's face light up at my enthusiasm. here was a guy who couldn't possibly be much older than 30 already trying to change the world and succeeding! it was mind-blowing at how much he had already done with his life.

i know my parents have dreams for me. my dreams are very different. they always have been. when they see some of the work i do in theater, i know they are proud of me. but it is a totally different kind of pride they would have had if i had followed their plans.

so when i talked about jonathan harris and his work and i saw my mother start to glow, i thought long and hard. the things this stranger was doing, the impact he was beginning to make is very similar to the one i want to persue. i want to travel and document and spread knowledge. i feel like mom is starting to understand this.

later, walking back to the car, i also tried to explain the idea of "following your bliss" and dad quoted something he had read in a book titled "The Four Hour Work Week" that supported the idea of figuring out what exactly it is that you want, what makes you happy, and then be realistic as to what you can do with it.

well... isn't that what i've been trying to do? i love the theater. i love that i can do so much with it. i hate that people say it's dying (and are more than usually right). something inside me catches fire when i see a curtain open. inside a theater is one of the very few places where i am totally comfortable. i can laugh as loud as i want. cry as hard. scream as much.

i want more than anything to spend my life there. i figured that out years ago. and i was realistic. i originally wanted to direct or to act. but i knew how difficult it would have been. how many people struggle to survive on that kind of dream. then i started stage managing and i found a new dream. a dream i could live on. one that fulfilled me and kept me close to everything i ever wanted for myself. a dream i was actually very good at.



so... haven't i gotten there? haven't i deserved some kind of understanding from my family? i have tattoos. so what? it's not like that will hold me back from a job that requires me to sit in the dark with a headset on. i have two to three jobs depending on the week. i don't mind. they're all within my field of interest and it keeps the bills paid. and i like to be kept busy.

i just find it very interesting that my father found in a book what i figured out in high school and have been trying to explain to him and mom ever since.

i'm happy with who i am. i like the direction my life is going in. i'm surrounded by people who truly care about me. i'm out of reasons to prove anything to anyone.

and boy, does that feel nice.