"Daphne, it's okay; just calm down. I mean, when all this is over we're just gonna--"

"There is no 'when this is over!' There's no tomorrow, no next week, no next year - there's nothing until he comes out of there and I know he's okay!" ~Daphne Moon Crane

(For when I just don't believe it myself)

I am a dancer because Fast Pat says so.

I am young because Karen says so.

I am subtle and cerebral because Chuck says so.

I am pretty because Zack says so.

I am "braver than [I] believe, stronger than [I] seem, and smarter than [I] think" because Molly and Christopher Robin say so.

Just kidding! I'm back!

"I spend so much time trying to control my life.  I thought it meant that I was strong, but I was just afraid... I never shed a tear.  I was proud of that.  All these years I never let myself feel it... I could avoid it all before I met you.  I had no one in my life, and now I think of those people, and I think of you.  Any one of them—it could have been you."

~Bones

When I can't facebook or tweet...

...I return here, apparently.

"If she is fat, I can’t help but think, what does that make me? What does that make the vast majority of women? I think we all know the answer to this, it’s only so brutally put on display when a woman whom we’ve come to expect will remain always pixie-like and slender comes into a more voluptuous figure. We know that, in the eyes of people who would call Christina fat, we’re disgusting. We’re not worthy of being proud of our bodies, or showing off as she does, or feeling that we can be sexy and desired."

Read more at http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/every-time-someone-calls-christina-aguilera-fat-an-angel-bursts-into-flames/#XW8hmt4TfcTIisgX.99

See ya in six months?

The Kids Are All Right

This was lovingly stolen from a friend's fb status.

Overheard on my flight last night...

Woman: Elizabeth, do you want a baby brother or a baby sister?
Elizabeth: (silence)
Woman: Well?
Elizabeth: (sigh) I just want some big girl panties, OK?
Woman: What if it is a baby brother?
Elizaebth: I'll play with him.
Woman: You will?
Elizabeth: Yes. I'll share my baby dolls with him.
Woman: OH, NO...you can't do that. Little boys can't play with baby dolls.
Elizabeth: (long pause) HE WON'T HAVE ANY HANDS?!!?!??!?!

Thank you, Elizabeth, for being young and clueless about stereotypes - and having way more sense than your travel companion.

And thank you, Leese, for sharing.

Things that make me go "Hmmm" Ü

Last of all he said, "Lucy, Eve's Daughter," and Lucy came forward.  He gave her a little bottle of what looked like glass (but people said afterward that it was made of diamond) and a small dagger.  "In this bottle," he said, "there is a cordial made of the juice of one of the fire-flowers that grow in the mountains of the sun.  If you or any of your friends is hurt, a few drops of this will restore them.  And the dagger is to defend yourself at great need.  For you also are not to be in the battle."
     "Why, sir?" said Lucy.  "I think--I don't know--but I think I could be brave enough."
     "That is not the point," he said. "But battles are ugly when women fight..."

Run on, Sentences.

Is there anybody out there?  Dear void? 

I know I have been a lackluster blogger since I moved (not that my updates were so lustrous when I was doing so consistently, but anyway...).  For a variety of reasons, it hasn't been a priority.  I tweet too much and update facebook regularly so people who aren't in my everyday life can feel like they're still connected via the social media leash, but most of the time I feel like keeping a blog that just chronicles what I'm feeling, learning, doing, etc. isn't a "legitimate" blog anymore.  If you're not sharing a fantastic recipe, promoting a life-changing product, or imparting some kind of divine revelation, then why are you blogging?  So you can essentially keep a public journal? Personal thoughts that the entire world wide web can read (but won't)?  Psh.  Lame.

Obviously I don't really think that.  I still read plenty of blogs that are beautiful examples of what I just described, but they belong to other people.  It's my thoughts that aren't worth much.  I know that's not necessarily true either, but that's what my fearful heart tells me when I entertain the thought of updating the blog, so I just move on to something else. 

I'm so very glad that I was fairly dedicated to updating this thing at one point.  Journaling has always been an important part of this Lonely Only's process, but since the move it's been neglected a bit.  There's been school and work and rehearsals and laundry and doing dishes and prepping food and pinching pennies and praying and worrying (SO much worrying) and trying to maintain relationships and be frugal and smart and a good steward of all my gifts, material or not, and taking care of myself. 

When I was in class, I didn't have much time to think about anything too far beyond the next deadline, which is good for my mental health, apparently, because since the summer has started, I have had entirely too much time to dwell on my doubts and fears.  The vast majority of my week is spent working in the law library computer lab.  Work consists of sitting behind a desk, occasionally restocking the printers with paper/toner and emptying the recycling bins, and then sitting behind the desk some more.  A LOT more.  Sometimes I can help people, but it's still mostly, after doing everything I know to do, "Oh.  Hmmm... I'm so sorry, but I don't know how to help you with that," or "That's something I can't do, [my supervisor's name] will have to take care of that.  I'm not sure where he is right now," then I add cheerfully, "but he's around!"  The IT guys have nothing if not job security.

So I'm on facebook and Twitter more than anyone should be.  I've been reading, which has been great.  I've knocked out six books thus far and have a stack waiting for me.  And that's not so bad as long as my thoughts keep quiet.  But yesterday I couldn't focus on my book anymore.  The fears and insecurities and doubts kept knocking at the door to my conscious mind, and by the time I had to slam my book shut, they were pounding mercilessly, begging for attention. 

So I gave in.  The door flew open, I entertained the thoughts and allowed my emotions to get the better of me until I just couldn't stand myself anymore and tried to distract myself again.  Sometimes that works for me.  I used to be very much the commander of my emotions and tried to beat them into submission with logic, but that didn't really help either.  All that did was suppress my feelings and fool me into thinking that they were some kind of fault I needed to fix, so they'd build up and build up and then I'd have to lose it and start all over again.  I realized that no matter the reason, there is in fact a reason behind whatever I am feeling, and that I need to allow myself to feel that--to grant myself that catharsis--so that I can move on and not have to deal with the remnants later.

But recently this allowance hasn't been working either.  All it's been doing is making me feel stuck.  "I'm in a glass case of emotion!"  Only it's a cubicle, literal and metaphorical.  I allow myself to feel and feel and feel, and then I have a difficult time getting out of whatever emotion has entrapped me. 

So, my feeble distraction attempt yesterday took the form of Hulu.  I hadn't been streaming anything at work because my ear buds accidentally took a trip back to T-Town last month, but I broke down this week and bought another pair (Thank you, Dollar Tree), and caught up on mindless TV.  That kinda worked (until the main character would have a thought or say something that reminded me of myself), but then I ran out of new episodes to watch. 

So then I made the social media rounds.  When I got to my Blogger Dashboard and there wasn't anything new, I decided to review my own blog.  And I'm so very glad I did.

Most of the updates were trivial, but it didn't matter because it was my trivia.  And there were some nuggets of truth.  Whether they were grand or universal or divine, I don't know, but again, they were mine. 

And I have been stuck.  Inside my apartment, inside a cubicle, inside myself (Thank God for rehearsals!).  I have been learning more about my craft (and being terrified about whether or not I'll be able to do it well enough [The "craft."  Gah, how douchey...]), but I haven't felt like I've grown outside of the craft.  I've been stunted by circumstance, and that's when it hit me that I'm in a place I've never been before.  I'm in a place that I used to describe in so many of my posts but had never really experienced it myself. 

No matter how awful things got before the move, I felt safe.

 I don't feel safe anymore. 

So learning looks different.  My actions and abilities look different.  My perspective is different, especially because I've been on the inside trying to look in.  Trying to stay safe (ironic when the craft is all about the opposite...).

Time to get outside (literally and metaphorically). 

Thank goodness Fridays are half days during the summer.  AND it's a three-day weekend! 

Next stop... (Pardon my parentheses)

I had a froyo date with my neighbor last night, just to catch up on the past week-and-a-half-ish, and part of our conversation centered around how OKC is great for us right now, but we won't be sticking around here.  And we wondered where our next stops would be... I've got two serious contenders.  One, for its own reasons, is more serious than the other, but (on the off chance I am) let me be the first to tell you that plans seldom work exactly how you think they will (which is, of course, for this agenda-abiding kid, terrifying). 

The image above is a screenshot of my new background on le macbook.  Just a little something I whipped up because I needed something new but that would still remind me to be brave.

 

(This was my background before.)

A couple weekends ago I had my first professional audition of the 2012 season.  It was in New Orleans for Tulane Summer Lyric.  I'm not one to brag on myself, but it was probably the single best audition I've ever had, and because of that fact, it may have been the best day I've had in a really long time.  (Don't get me wrong, my days in general are fine--they're just a little humdrum right now).  

I had another audition last week in OKC.  It wasn't so great.  Overall I'm okay with the fact that it didn't go well, but there's still that part of me that is miffed because I want them all to feel like that NOLA audition.  I know that's not realistic, but I'm sure's shootin' gonna keep trying for that.  

Anyway, I still haven't heard back from the good people at Tulane, so if you'd join me in crossing fingers that they wanna cast me, I'd be much obliged.  I've got one (maybe two) more audition(s) for this summer.  If I don't get any theatre work, it'll be all right.  I'll hang around OKC and work my tushy off, maybe actually save some money, and be refreshed for the final half of grad school.  

But when I think about that next stop, I want this summer to include theatre work.  I know I may have to sell my soul after graduation just to scrape by, wherever I live, and may not even be able to afford theatrical work for a stint.  Anything's possible, but that's most probable.  But the point of going into all this debt was to keep living the dream after graduation.  The degree is nice, but when it comes down to it, I need the experience more than anything.  I want the experience more than anything.  

Maybe all this career girl talk is coming from watching Thoroughly Modern Millie yesterday, or maybe it's because I need to be distracted from how alone I am sometimes (don't get me wrong about that, either.  I do alone really well; I'm independent and have plenty to do.  Alone is definitely less complicated).  What it really is, I think, is that sometimes I need an escape from myself.  

"I brood too much over my own small affairs and need stirring up..."

Leap Day

Stolen, with love, from one of my adopted Moms' facebook status:

"Leap Year has been the traditional time that women can propose marriage

When the rules of courtship were stricter, women were only allowed to pop the question on one day every four years. That day was February 29th.
St. Bridget's Complaint
It is believed this tradition was started in 5th century Ireland when St. Bridget complained to St. Patrick about women having to wait for so long for a man to propose. According to legend, St. Patrick said the yearning females could propose on this one day in February during the leap year.
February 29th in English Law
According to English law, February 29th was ignored and had no legal status. Folks assumed that traditions would also have no status on that day. It was also reasoned that since the leap year day existed to fix a problem in the calendar, it could also be used to fix an old and unjust custom that only let men propose marriage.
The first documentation of this practice dates back to 1288, when Scotland supposedly passed a law that allowed women to propose marriage to the man of their choice in that year. Tradition states they also made it law that any man who declined a proposal in a leap year must pay a fine. The fine could range from a kiss to payment for a silk dress or a pair of gloves." (emphasis added by yours truly)

So, umm... Will you marry me?

(check Yes or No)

[Cue George Strait]

If "Yes," great!  Hope you've got ideas for the wedding, 'cause the only things I've got in mind are the music and life afterward.

If "No," I accept all of the aforementioned, italicized forms of payment as well as cash, check, Visa, Mastercard, Discover, AND AmEx (I don't discriminate).  Mama needs a new pair of character shoes.



I've actually got a lot to update about, but first I have to make sure my scene for acting is off-book for class today.  Catch ya later!

Mumble Jumble Amble Ramble

I think of ideas for blog posts, long and short, but by the time I get to the internet, I forget about them.  So, I'm going to try to remember a few of the random things I've mused to myself, try to update about life, and in general keep this thing as current as possible.

So, um, I suppose a good bit has happened since November 2nd.  I finished a show and a semester, rang in a new year, started a new semester, spent time with loved ones old and new, and a whole, whole lot of the every day. 

My first couple weeks back in OKC after the hols in T-Town were rocky at best, but this past week saw an upward trend.  After having to wake up and be somewhere (usually work) at a certain time everyday for the past 17 days, I took today to NOT have to be anywhere.  Cleaned my kitchen and bathroom, put away laundry from last week (eh he!) and dawdled while doing it all.  I think I'm finally ready for this semester just in time for week three.

Achievements thus far:

• I had to be back in OKC early for a make up diagnostic exam, the results of which I still haven't officially received, but apparently no news is good news at OCU and I passed since I am not spending week nights in the review course.  I'll take it!
• FINALLY called back for a musical at school.  I'm not expecting anything--just honored to have been considered and hope to be in the chorus.
• Applied for a professional audition and scheduled another, and then two more to schedule.  Performing. For money. (Potentially.) Things are getting real, y'all.
• Re-watched seasons three through five of Ally McBeal.  Dan-ger-ous.

I love it, but watching the show makes me so deeply sad.  (SPOILER ALERT/VERY PERSONAL RELIGIOUS BELIEF ALERT)  Aside from the fact that Ally and The Biscuit belong together forever and always and I never get that fulfillment, for me, the show's practically perfect up until the end of the fourth season.   The creator of the show had to change his intended storyline due to a Charlie Sheen-esque situation with Robert Downey, Jr., and I can't help but think of how God must feel every second of every day when the story lines He intends have to be altered because of the choices we make. 

I know He delights in co-authoring our stories with us.  That's kinda the point of all "this."  But knowing that more often than not it's His permissible will rather than His perfect will being done... I can't imagine that kind of hurt as a Creator.  And after some...interesting facebook posts this evening, I know I can't begin to fathom the hurt He experiences as we hurt each other.  I'm grateful that I'm incapable of feeling that; that it's a burden God doesn't intend for us to carry as He does.  But, by golly, we don't carry as much as He intends for us to carry either.  And He does mean for us to carry some. We've got to pay attention to the hurt around us and not only NOT contribute to it, but also be a balm for it.

"Ignorance rooting from ignoring is a selective state of unawareness."

If we claim Christ, ignorance is not an option.  Plain and simple. 

♥