Grow Up, You Little Bitch

Quit dreaming. Take responsibility for your actions.  Keep track of money that you spend.  Sometimes you just have to do things that you don't want to do. Nothing is perfect.


Just grow up. You've spent the last year gallivanting all over the world, racking up tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt, and now you can't handle your shit when you're back in the real world.  Right where you claimed that you wanted to be.  So what if your job makes you anxious, and who cares if your boss micromanages you.  He's given you all the flexibility in the world, make it work.  And why exactly are you surprised when your vocal and dance skills still come up short? It's not like you've been taking lesson. You have to work on things to get better at them. For that matter, you have to work on things for them to get done.  You can't just Facebook the day away and somehow get all of your programming written, and you'll have gotten back on top of writing your play.

So now you're stressed out, broke, and trying to support three + deal with some heavy student loans--- exactly where you knew you were going to be--- and you're upset about it?  Well, suck it up.  Because there are a lot of people in the world who have it a lot worse off than you, and frankly you are the only problem here.  Get over yourself, admit that you should do anything and everything the client asks of you, and do some fucking work.  Then you can pay bills, be less stressed, and be emotionally stable enough to work on your script.

Just grow the fuck up.

Pleasures

you're like a deep, long-awaited sigh
or a teardrop as it breaks the cusp of my eye.
you're like the last, crisp page of my favorite book.
a hug with my face buried in your neck-crook.
a kiss with soft, supple lips,
or when you rub my back with just your finger tips.
you're like the water which encloses me at the bottom of the pool,
the silent relief from the summer's burning tool.
you're the bitter-sweet mouthful of a really great beer
and you're the breeze in my hair when the sky is blue-clear.

you're the good things in life that balance the bad.
you're the pleasures that banish the sad.

Sono Pronta

Since my final day of performance in April, I have essentially been on summer vacation. Except this vacation was unlike any other I have ever experienced. Instead of instantly transitioning from full-time student to full-time employee, working this summer just wasn't an option for me.

For the first six weeks of summer I was stuck in Europe, waiting on Phil to wrap up his job. Luckily we got to take the trip of our lives while we were there. Barcelona, Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Torino: These cities and the culture we witnessed in them will forever affect our perspectives of the world. I gave myself the job of writing the play that's been under my skin for the past three years, and it barely kept me sane in my weeks of complete solitude.

When I arrived back in the States, I couldn't get a job because I needed to take a hiatus (and still am) in Arkansas. I could've worked at the Museum of Discovery, but it fell through. I was busy with Brooke's wedding, mostly the Bachelorette Extravaganza, and with figuring out all the complicated details of migrating up north. Not to mention the two and half week vacation split between Phil's family and mine, that took me on a 6,000 mile road trip that spanned from Los Angeles to Alabama. I saw some amazing sights, learned a thing or two about myself, and saw first hand the damage of the oil spill on the gulf coast.  (That's a huge tarball the dolly is sitting on.)

But now the summer is coming to a close. It's getting cooler outside; the high today is only 91 degrees (instead of the usual scorching 100+). And I am going to reach my final destination, Chicago, in a mere 7 days. When I quit school in Italy, I knew that I would end up back in the Windy City, no matter what it took, because that city is good for me and Phil. In every way. I love it, and when I chose it over New York City 3 years ago, I had no idea of how perfect a fit it would be for us. Or perhaps it changed us? And because of its influence there is no other place for us now? Whatever the reason, we're going back, and I can't FUCKING wait.

I have been lounging about, going for lazy jogs, and stalking the social network scene for far too long! I am ready for a job. A real one, that takes up at least 30 hours of my time a week. I need one for money, but I also need it for sanity. My personality is not comfortable with all this down time, and so I am ready for take off.

Sono pronta, cazzi!

Hope

It's so easy to take the world for granted, especially in the United States where we enjoy so many everyday luxuries that most people can't even imagine. We get caught up in the daily grind, and we forget to enjoy the cool breeze or the sound of cicadas at sunset.

I consider myself a pretty contemplative person, and I think that I do a good job of noticing the beauty around me. Yet, I often acknowledge that something is remarkable with only a second's thought before moving on. And I rarely share the beauty with another person. Because this short week was so full of loveliness, I think that for once I should share it with you.

I drove to Chicago to find an apartment. The drive was long, about 11.5 hours, and it was relatively tedious. But if you pay attention, even driving through endless corn fields can be whimsical. When Phil was driving I noticed that the median was full of yellow sulfur butterflies that, as we drove, would swirl around the windshield. As the sun was setting in the west, I noticed the silhouette of a strange flying machine above the glowing stalks. I asked Phil if it was a plane dusting the crops, but he identified it as a glider. It kept up with us in the distance for minutes floating up and down, a blustery roller coaster ride. And when we arrived in Chicago the weather was worlds different than in Arkansas. It was dry and cool, sunny and breezy. The water shone like sapphires against the steely outline of the loop. I've seen it hundreds of times, and it's always beautiful, but Chicago in the summer is like a rose at its peak: dewy and fresh and bursting with life. The food was nice, the friends were better, and I couldn't help fantasizing about what the next year will bring.

I'm scared, a worry-wart, but I also have hope-- a lot of it. This year is going to be tough, but as long as Chicago is beautiful, I can carry though.

Return to Chicago

Well, I've moved all of my belongings and myself back to the States, Brooke's wedding has finally come and gone, and now it's time to complete the difficult task of finding a job and an apartment in the enormous machine that is Chicago. My plan all along has been to get a job bagging groceries at Whole Foods. Even though I am heavily overqualified for something like that, it is appealing to me. I like the company's initiatives, I love the food there, and this time around I want to avoid locking myself into a professional career that is going to take me in a direction in life that I don't want. However.... they rejected me. So, I have been scouring the theatre websites to see if this time around I can marry my two great loves: education and theatre. I have sent out several applications to theatre teacher opportunities, and I hope to hear back.

Then there is also this other opportunity.... a rather unconventional and unexpected one. The Museum of Science and Industry is looking for some crazy motherfucker who will agree to live in the museum for a month, and I am the perfect crazy ass bitch for the job.

So, I have spent a lot of time surfing the web, searching for apartments, and reconnecting with my Chicago contacts. I am so ready to get back to the urban wilderness that is Chicago, but I am really scared that I won't be able to get onto my feet as well this time as last time. I have a little less money and a little higher standards. But then again, I know people now, and that's half the battle. I just hope things work out.

Plus, I still want a puppy! Keep your eyes peeled for a cutie patootie corgi puppy with a vagina, not a penis (because Darwin wants a girlfriend).

Also, watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9f-6jygRJk

Running for my Life

Wow! Check out my map of the run I did today. Hardcore and incredibly beautiful. I was scared going into it because I hadn't run through part of it before and I was afraid I would get lost, but it was great! That is officially the farthest I have ever run. Not to mention at about mile 2 there is a series of intense hills.

This blog is titled Running for my Life because I feel like running has been one of the only things these past few weeks in Italy that has kept me from having a total mental breakdown. I know it's supposed to be beautiful to be in a foreign country with nothing to do but contemplate why the birds sing so sweetly, but for me boredom was suffocating. When I get up in the morning and start my day with a 5k, I feel motivated. I don't just sit around and watch TV or facebook all day. I feel powerful, and I feel like I can write. It helps my body, yes. But more importantly, running helps my mind.

To Whom It May Concern

This is the latest poem I wrote for our ensemble project that we semi-successfully performed in a huge, old theatre in Cortona. It was the opening dialogue that all the actors "read" from letters that they were writing. It was a short play with six actors that loosely explored the difficulty of writing down your true feelings for someone you love. It was very well received, but it was an incredibly trying process creating it. All of the actors cast had different backgrounds and ideas on how to create theatre, and unfortunately several of them had never attempted to create theatre with other people before. Man, we're talking DRAMA-- and I don't theatrical literature... (Sigh) I'm very happy it's over. And I'm proud of us for completing it. So anyway, below is the poem that I wrote for it.


To Whom It May Concern:

I keep pressing my pen, tip weeping ink,
against this paper to share what I think,
to write down the words I cannot speak.
But each word I write, I crush with critique.
Clumsy, witless, miserable.
Ideas are worth nothing when words emerge dull.
My endeavor seems fruitless, no letter have I
To give to you, the apple of my eye.

Yours truly