Compunctious

Sorry for my tempertantrum earlier. It was sort of uncalled for and over the top. Rehearsals have been ... well ... challenging and the entire lot of us are exhausted and cranky. I have been acting like a petulant child lately and it has been reminding me why back in 2003 I left theatre for my Finding Me hiatus. This industry is filled with negativity and, try as I might, I get sucked into its pit of bitchiness. I wish I could be stronger, rise above it and always find the positive, always stay positive.

Funny thing is, I have been trying and It has been working a lot of the time. Recently, there have been plenty of times that I have not involved myself in some negative, catty discussion simply because I was too busy being happy about The Boy. As any of us in the first throes of passion know, an exciting, intense connection with someone can be an amazing armour. This is how I have felt about a lot of the more 'challenging' days lately...like He and I have sailed on through them in a state of bliss.

But like my last post stated, much has been thrown in our paths to wear us down. Even our bliss has been deemed non-professional! So, yes, unfortunately, I have allowed it all to wear me down. Now that much of my joy just feels like it, too, is unacceptable and my angry, pissy moods leave me with less self-respect, I am left not knowing how to feel or act in my own life. Like I am seriously uncomfortable in my own skin. Is there a way out of feeling this way? As I type this, I have no ideas...not yet. I certainly hope there is, because I don't like myself and my reactive ego-based choices lately. As angry as I was in my last post, tonight I am simply sad. Sad to think that perhaps I was correct four years ago when I concluded that theatre and I just don't make a functional, happy, balanced couple.

Regardless, no punching anyone in the face. Sorry again for going all Mike Tyson on ya there.

We'll try for something much less violent for May, okay?

You Can Only Take So Much Before You Snap And Punch Someone In The Face

When your day starts with a trip to the gynocologist, you are lucky to get to the other end without an assault charge. Or at least that is how I feel today.

There is the rain and the cold, but I can get through that unscatched really. Sustaining the poking and proding of my cervix until it bleeds is something that I have gotten used to putting up with. I am also quite proud of how I have been able to avoid the negative bitchiness that is generally clouding our Anything Goes rehearsals. (The floatly, smitten, ah-I-adore-him feeling seems to help). I've even been able to turn my mind to the positive concerning my chubbiness. But when on top of all this I get 'talked to' about seventeen times in one pre-show evening - well, it is enough to turn even the most tranquil lover into an angry, bitter, little actress.

Oh, Krista, we heard that you have been to the tanning salon. You are not allowed to do that. You must remain snowy white all summer. Sorry. Oh, Krista, we will need you to hang up your costumes on the SAME hanger with the exact precision that they are found, thank you. Oh, Krista, make sure your hat doesn't jiggle. No, I have no idea how you can make this happen, but all the same, if you could do something about it immediately. Oh, Krista, your lipstick is too moist. Please figure out how to un-moist your lipstick. Oh, Krista, your laptop is infringing on other's boundaries as artists. Oh, Krista, please stop singing. Oh, Krista, that choice you made was much too interesting for your ultra boring character. If you could choose something much more mediocre, then we will be more successful in making sure that your character is as utterly beige as we can possibly make her. Oh, Krista, if you could tear your nylons less often, our budget in wardrobe would really appreciate it. Oh, Krista, if you could spray your hairspray somewhere other than there, there, there or there. Or there. Oh, Krista, please stop showing so much public affection. Oh, Krista....Oh, Krista...Oh, Krista....

(Krista's face slowly gets red and her fists clench. She is about to yell BITE ME at the entire room of people, but decides against it. Krista crosses to couch, opens up her MacBook forcefully and begins to type)

What I need is more than one day off. I need to clear my head. I need to get out of this place and away from these same 20 people that I see every single day without fail. Was thinking about going into Victoria and lindyhopping on my next day off, but then again, I am so POOPED that the thought of dancing all night after dancing all day is somewhat exhausting.

In my mind I sweep away to a deserted island that is hot with lots of nice shady bits and coconut and pineapple drinks and hammocks for naps and lots of quiet and peace peace peace.

Ah, it's just been one of those days.

I blame the gynocologist.

The Skinny on Skinny

Ah, weight. What a wondeful topic. Is there a topic more emotionally charged for women? Can I even start to pretend that I am not like the masses who fret about what they look like naked almost constantly? Ahhhhh, this contract has brought me back to all the unhealed shit I have to look at in regards to food and weight and loving my body for what it is...

Here are my challenges: I hate cooking with an unparalleled passion. I also hate kitchens. Even being in them stresses me out. I have also now started to dislike greatly grocery stores and the general buying of food. In fact, all of this has made me start to resent eating all together. Part of me kind of wishes that I could just swallow 3 pills a day that would feed me all the nutrients, calories, vitamins, etc. that I needed and not worry about it. That is crazy!! I know it. Food is beautiful and wonderful and necessary. But the older I get the worse my food issues become. Ah, the makings of an eating disorder.

As for my weight, well, it isn't hard to picture from my relationship with food that my weight is far from ideal. No, I am not obese, but that is probably mosly because I dislike kitchens and eating enough that often I will choose to simply NOT eat or eat something small, quick and easy. I am also not at my ideal weight. The only time in the last 10 years that I have been at a weight that feels good and right and proportional has been when I have been miserable - like after my Jordan breakup. When I am simply too miserable to have cravings and only eat to not starve do I end up at a 'good' weight for my height. This is a yucky association to have established. It could follow that I look forward to being miserable because then at least then I will be skinny.

Chips are my crack. And excessive amounts --- it is never 6 almonds with me, it is the whole bag. And the late night after-show binging because it is after the makeup comes off that I get REALLY hungry. Oh, and the dill pickle Doritos. I can't even type those words without groaning in ecstacy. This isn't to mention hilarious moments of buying raw cookie dough and eating the entire thing or how much I adore a buger and fries. In fact, If I don't order fries with my meal, I am pretty much guaranteed to walk around in a state of discontent for the rest of the day. Another awesome habit I have is eating only ONE real meal and making sure that it is sooooooo BIG that it keeps me full for as long as possible. Excellent choice for the metabolism! Ug.

It doesn't really help that I am not in love with excerising. I will dance until I almost collapse and seem to have a large stamina for that type of cardio, but other than that, I dislike sweating. The thought of running sends me into a a state of panic. Swimming means I have to get all wet and, even though I do like it, it does require being in more water than my bath tub holds. Gyms are - well - expensive and boring and biking means that by the time I have gotten to the destination I am wind-blown, sore and grumpy. Not to mention usually soaked to the bone from the BC rain. I like napping. And talking. And I don't mind walking, but in a very STROLLING type way. Sex is fun, but I doubt I can really have enough sex to fulfill all the calorie burning required.

Although I suppose I could give that a try.

Anyway, I am writing about all this, because I am aware that at some point, I gotta make some changes. With all the healthy choices I DO make in my life, this area remains a dark spot. And in a month I will be wearing a bathsuit in front of hundreds - thousands - of people.

And if that isn't motivating, I am not sure what will be.

Fitting In The Blog

There is just so much happening that I am finding it hard to get to my computer for long enough to write anything. And yet, I have so much to say, so much that is unfolding in my wonderful life that I tell myself that I will get up a bit earlier and make time. But with rehearsals and chores and running the first show and errands and trying to work on my roles in the second show, my spare time and returning emails and, of course, all the boy drama ********** it never really happens.

Ok, so where I put the ********** above was a gap in time of over twelve hours. Seriously! As I was typing about how I can't seem to find the time to blog, I was interrupted mid-sentence and not able to resume writing until now @ 2:26am. Ridiculous. But since I am prying my eyelids open to write this, I might as well make it good.

Good is that in the tailspin of my break up with Jax, I was confronted with the admission of desire from another source. And I couldn't deny that the desire was mutual. But in light of a just ended relationship and some other determining factors, I resisted initially. Then I started to wonder why I was denying myself happiness!? The answer seemed to be guilt. AH, guilt. Such a useless waste of energy. So, after some anguish, I just stopped worrying about what I should be feeling and let myself allow What Was. And now, I have practically 'monkey-bar-ed' into another love affair. I judge myself for this, yes. But am I thinking I have made a mistake? God, no.

Which means, besides being Freaking Busy, I am also Giddy and Stunned. I am also Sore from doing trenches in double time and a held arabesque for much too long. I am Panicked because I have to wear a bathing suit in Anything Goes and Totally Baffled as to how I will find the wherewithal to lose my extra Europe weight. I am Tired and am thinking of maybe taking off to VIctoria for my one day off next week to try and break up this jam packed schedule. I am Smiling all the time, though, despite it all, because of this Surprise Romance.

Oh, none of it ever seems to go as planned and yet, the unplanned stuff always ends up being the stuff of that is most real.

My days are filled with hot rollers and Facebook which are both connecting me with wonderful human beings that I haven't seen in FOREVER and ruining my hair. I try to find time to work on my art piece that hangs above my bed, 1/4 of the way finished. I go to chiropractors and RMTs for relief from my body's complaints and today I forced myself to buy groceries. Mornings I sleep, hungry for the drug of REM. It feels like I am never not at the theatre and when I am not in rehearsal, I am stealing away with a piano to shove all this Porter into my brain. Free time is spent exploring my new found treasure or scrubbing a toliet in much need of a cleaning. I have to discipline myself to take extra time to do more than just the basic grooming and I obviously stay up way too late to try and relate all of it to unknown and unseen eyes. Crazy stupid brilliant.

Some last notes as my eyelids shut in spite of the prying...

...and....

...oops...ah, shitty nuts....

....they're closed.

Ah, well. G'nite.

Bending Over For Fear

Leanne, faced again with a man in her life that is too scared to go the distance, asked me to reiterate something I said about fear on the phone. Here is what I said:

as human beings our goal is to feel fear, but not allow it to make the ultimate decision. if and when we do this we rob ourselves of our self-respect and of the hidden jems that can come from taking a leap into the seemingly impossible. i would almost say as an experiment we should all sometimes make a decision based on doing the opposite of what our fear tells us to do...even if it is just to make sure that we don't become fear's bitch.

Funny, when I read it over, I hear myself giving the advice that I need to hear in my own life. I have been brave enough to tell the truth about what I wanted (or didn't want) with Jax. Now, I am being presented, so soon after my breakup, with another test of my bravery. And I am wondering if I should just choose to go in the exact opposite direction of what Fear is telling me to do which is RUN. My only conflict is that It may not be fear that is telling me to run, but wisdom.

Wisdom reminds me that to compromise my core values in order to justify being with someone is a recipe for disaster. If someone who is part of PETA falls in love with a hunter, what do they do with that? Do they honor the love they feel or the values that define who it is they are? Can a couple be a team, but fight for two different sides of a noble cause? Does one allow someone into their life who smokes pot every day when they, themselves, believe that marijuana is the bain of society?

Wisdom, fear, love and self-trust. None of it is easy and not every choice can be the strongest one. I like to think that the most important thing is to just make the decision with confidence and no apology. There is no way to say that a particular choice is the Right one or the Wrong one and it is near impossible to please everyone with the outcome of deciding upon something. So, I may just need to dive head long into this thing that has presented itself to me and just know that no matter how it ends up I will be okay.

Backstage right now at Murder typing this...hoping to do a Backstage at MOTN Vlog soon. The sun is doing its best outside to give us a true spring day and this week's paycheck waits in my purse to be cashed. Life is good, even if it is confusing. Life is worth it, even when a student in Virgina decides to numb their pain by taking lives. Life is here to help us find a way back to loving ourselves.

I have been courting fear far to long.

And I am sick of letting it do what it wants with my life...

doggy style.

Nothing Easy About It

Jax and I have broken up.

I suppose it was my decision in the end, but like he said in his last email he has also made a 'narrow escape' from the chaos that is me. There aren't any clear cut reasons that I can outline all neatly inside of a paragraph except that my heart has taken a different shape since arriving here in Chemainus. A part of me that started to come back to life in Regina this past winter has bubbled up with a vengence and it seemed that one morning I woke up and it was very clear that Jax and I would make each other miserable in a big picture sense. As perfect as we were for each other in many ways, there was always a sense of staring at each other like we had just arrived on the other's planet. Especially in the way we communicated with each other. As it became increasingly difficult to feel safe going to him with the complexity of my feeling world, it became increasingly easy to go to the people here in this tiny town. That isn't to say that how he communicated was wrong, because he can be one of the most eloquent and articulate human beings I have ever met. It was about it being different. It was about having to work hard, really hard, to make the other understand, to get through, to be truly heard. But that is all I am going to say about that, because at the end of the day my biggest lesson here hasn't been what the deal breakers were or were not. The real lesson has been about trusting myself.

It isn't that easy a thing to do. I know I am not the only one who goes through the following: you take some quiet time to just be with your thoughts. For some of us that might be meditation, for some a hike, for some it could come while they spend time cuddling a baby. During that time in silence you begin to ponder many things...am I happy? What should I do about fill in the blank? What is behind the feeling of disconnect that I am having lately? And on and on. Now, sometimes in those moments the pondering just hovers in the land of questioning and no clarity arrives. But sometimes, when the silence is deep enough and all judgements about what the answer might be is let go, answers do arise. THIS isn't the difficult part, even though it can be a rare experience. The difficult part is believing, honouring and then acting on those answers.

The natural thing is to second guess why those are the answers. You admonish yourself for having this thought and critically explain to yourself that you are simply being selfish or afraid or repeating old, dysfunctional patterns. Or you immediately disregard whatever the answer is because it would require the bravery of CHANGING SOMETHING. For instance, you ask yourself 'do I enjoy this job I am currently doing?' and after brushing away the cobwebs that have gathered on your intuition you hear yourself answer a resounding 'no. I do not enjoy the job i am doing. i am only doing it for the money. if i had a trillion dollars i would not be doing this job'. If we trusted ourselves, we would stop doing that job. There would be no fear because we would know we would easily find another job AND it would be the one we loved. There would be no guilt because we would know that what our intution tells us is the wisest voice there is from which to take council. There would be no convincing ourselves that the only reason we had that answer is because we are commitment-phobes and always quit. The fact that we would be the kind of person that trusted ourselves would mean that we loved ourselves as well. And when we can truly love and trust ourselves, we have found the holy grail.

Well, I got quiet and asked some hard questions and now I am acting fully on what the voices of my intuition were telling me. Jax is a beautiful soul, but he is not the person I am supposed to spend forever beside. Right now, I am choosing to listen to that and to trust that. The trick will be to not beat myself up over the hurt that this decision may cause. Or to punish myself so much that I miss out on soaking up every wonderful second of this Chemainus chapter - which is bringing me so much happiness. Does he deserve someone who is sure of him? Yes, most definitely. Will I miss him? Of course I will. Is that a good enough reason to sustain a relationship long term? No, it is not.

Everything changes and on life goes. My heart still heals from last year and lets go of this new love and keeps trying to open open open to whatever it is that I might be allowed to learn from it all. Simple, but not easy. Nope.

Nothing Easy About It.

the lives of a few found objects

Shelley sent me these lyrics and because I am not quite ready to say out loud what exactly is happening in my life currently, I thought I would let poetry speak for me...


the lives of a few found objects


perfume the moment, pink cherry flower
to concrete your colour falls
is someone inhaling your perfect demise
bereft and sweet and small?

trace through the hours, phonograph needle
over scratches and waltzes that spin
is someone listening, is someone dancing
as you circle and circle within?

capture a soul, polaroid camera
burn it to a square paper shape
is someone holding their lover's image
lamenting their worldly escape?

perfume the moment pink cherry flower
to concrete your colour will fall
may someone inhale your perfect demise
bereft, sweet and small.

Persistence Paying Off

La la la la la la la la

I have a new picture on my home page!

La la la la la la la la

Go and see it! Go and see it!

La la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

Metamorphose

The day I knew that I could no longer be Aidan's partner came upon me both slowly and suddenly.

Over the years we were together, I was always clear that I wanted to be with him. I was just as clear when I suddenly knew with total certainty that our partnership had run its course. I knew it completely and totally and was at peace with the knowing. My only saddness came from knowing how this would inevitably hurt him. That was the only thing that kept me hanging on waiting for a possible shift in my feelings --- I mean, how do you hurt someone you love? You can tell yourself all the bullshit about how you will hurt them more in the big picture if you stay with them because you are keeping them from meeting someone who will be better suited. Or even that one's only responsibility is to be honest. Those things might be true, but let's be clear here people - hurting someone you love is never going to feel good.

When I finally told him, it was horrific. We took a walk around Wascana Park and he asked me to stay. He fought for our future as these monstrous thunder clouds decended. But I was resolved. I wanted to be on my own so acutely that even his tears did not sway me. So, when it started to rain, he gave up and allowed himself to break. It wasn't about doubting my choice - I knew in my gut that it was time. It was having to stand back and observe the person I had once shielded from pain, writhing in an agony that only I could serve him. The guilt and shame from that break up (and others before that) have plagued me. Some might call the guilt and shame deserved retribution. Some might even have said Jordan was karma for all that I had undone previously. But I am coming to believe that it is all just learning. Just learning.

Major shifts are happening in my heart. I haven't blogged about them much because they are very gray and barely shaded in, but there they are. I have looked at the evidence and not been sure if I should trust myself to strike a verdict. Aren't there blurry lines between listening to your intuition telling you you need to make certain choices and simply stinky old patterns knocking at the door, begging to be repeated? Yes, very blurry indeed. But one thing I have learned is that to not trust myself is the most painful thing of all. So, I am trying to hear what my heart is telling me, even if it isn't what I (or anyone else) wants to hear.

I am just afraid that I might hurt someone. My compassion, after last year, runs deep for those of us who must experience heartbreak. Through all my tears last year I swore that I would never DO to someone what HE had done to me. Ah, the foolish things we promise when we can hardly breathe! Now I know Jordan loved me and probably still loves me, but did what we all must do...he put his truth ahead of pleasing someone else.

Heavy. I feel heavy. But strong. Sad -- and yet as I tap and sing and begin rehearsals for Anything Goes, I am very happy. A bit puzzled, but trusting and trying to take the reigns away from guilt and shame. None of it is easy, this metamorphose, but as we all know, change is the only thing that is constant.

Stupid thing is that I always thought that it would all get much easier when I turned 30.

The Final Europe Gallery

Part 3 is up and running...

CLICK HERE TO SEE

...in dedication to my cousin Leanne's birthday just passed...

filled with self-portraits and other goodies.

And now I can lay Europe to bed.

But, ah, the memories.

Happy Birthday Joan!

My mother has always been my best friend. And I don't mean best friend in the way that so many other women talk about their mothers, although she is a best friend in that way, too. I mean, a real, true best friend. The night I had my very first one night stand, I came home, crawled onto my mother's bed, woke her up at 2am and told her every gory detail. There has never been catagories in my life labelled 'stuff I can talk to my mom about' and 'stuff I can't talk to my mom about'. Don't get me wrong, she has always tsk-tsk-ed me for swearing and was not pleased when I announced at sixteen that I was in love and ready to lose my virginity. But she never punished me or withdrew her love when I made decisions she didn't agree with. She never chose to be superior and thus alienating. We disagree vehemently about several things and have been known to fight like cats and dogs, but we also spend plenty of nights cuddled under the covers laughing until we almost pee our pants. THAT is the kind of best friend that my mother is to me.

And today she turns a red-hot 64 years of age.

May she know that one of the wishes on her wish list has come true. Her youngest is doing a job she loves and making great money and is surrounded by good friends and has an amazing partner to share it with. My life is filled with the happiness that every parent wants for their children. Job, money, health and a man that could become my husband and the father of my children. But more importantly, I have back my spirit and so even if the job ends (which it will) and there is struggle with money or health, even if I don't end up spending forever with my current partner, I am going to be okay. More than okay. I am going to bloom. She has given me the gift of being my stem...and from there is no limit to what I can achieve.

Happy Birthday Mom. I dedicate your birthday to Cory and his family as they walk through the fire of loss. Cory is realizing now, more than ever, just how much he loved his father, now that his father is gone. I don't want to wait until it is too late to say I love you I love you I love you and that you are my hero. However long I will be given with you on this planet will be appreciated and I take the love I feel for you and I wrap it around Cory. He is a man I have always loved on some level and I long to heal him now. Perhaps he will be a little more healed today when he feels by osmosis that the kind of love we have for our parents can never be lost.

I love you, Helen Cecelia Joan.

And thank you Universe for giving me yet another year to tell this to her.