Tag Archives: blog


Almost didn’t make it.

Well, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I had indigestion, a kitten biting my feet, and nightmares.

Am I going to use these as an excuse for how late I’m writing this? Yes, but I’m not ashamed. MY RECORD IS STILL GOOD!!!

Uhhhhh…..here’s a fun fact:

Disney cast members who play characters aren’t allowed to say they play them. If they want family and friends to know who they’re going to be that day they say something like: “Make sure to say hi to my friend Belle if you’re in the park today!” or “I’ll be hanging out with my friend Mr. Incredible at Pixar Pier. Come say hi!”


The Struggle Part 2

You thought it was over…

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check out this post first: The Struggle Part 1

I was offered to work a show I’ve already worked on at a different theater company.

The differences?

Better pay (like above minimum wage better), free housing (since I’d have to go to Utah), and working the same show 5 days a week with two performances on 2 days (in other words: 48 performances).

The struggle?

I’ve never been to Utah and if I accepted I’d have to leave, like, yesterday. Once I do a show, I tend to do my own post mortem (a term that’s not only for morticians, but also for theater folk; it’s kind of like wrapping up the show and going over what went well and what didn’t, etc.) and am already looking forward to the next show. Also, this show will be directly conflicting with the next show on my calendar…which is one that I’ve been looking forward to all year.

And MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL: I will know absolutely no one. I know a lot of you are probably like, “Why is that the most important thing?” Well, if you haven’t read some of my other posts, here’s the deal: I have social anxiety. It is very difficult for me to get to know new people. The only reason it works at the theater company I work for with the constant new actors is because the basic production team stays the same and I’ve been with them for three years. So, yeah, I’ve gotten to know them to the point I’m comfortable being myself around them.

It’s this final point that’s creating the struggle. My anxiety is playing so many different scenarios through my head (most bad, a few good) and I can’t trust myself to make the decision.

Did I ultimately make a choice? Yes. Will I regret it? Yes. But at the same time, I know I made the right choice for who I am at this moment in time.

THAT House Pt. 3

You ever have that house in your neighborhood known as the house to avoid.

For one reason or another, your parents or the local kids tell you to stay away from the house. The second neighborhood my family moved to in Indiana that house was down the road from our house in a cul-de-sac.

Why were we told to avoid it? Multiple reasons/rumors. The people who lived there were drug dealers. The parents were always gone and their kids would sooner beat the crap out of you than look at you. Those same kids were the ones who would drive up and down the road, driving their car into mailboxes or tearing up lawns just for shits and giggles.

To be honest, though…I never saw the people who lived in that house. I never saw the kids do anything. I saw the damage the next day, but never actually saw them in the act.

Anybut, I’m sure there are other reasons people tell you to stay away from THAT house in your neighborhood. But how much of it is true?

I See You

Story Time:

BEFORE Harry Potter and the magical wizarding world of the J. K. Rowling books, I can say with complete seriousness….

I used to believe the people in pictures could see/hear me. I still kind of (on a far smaller scale) believe this even now at 30 years old.

When I was a kid and into my teenage years, I never really had posters on my bedroom walls. There was one N*SYNC poster that I eventually did put up, but I made sure they weren’t staring at my bed. Otherwise I could never fall asleep. But I refused to put any other pictures up.

Okay, I lied. I did have other posters and pictures on my bedroom walls, BUT they were of animals…specificaly dragons….and Wyland paintings (you know, the ones with the whales) and I didn’t mind if they could hear me or see me.

ANNNNND I did have a painting by my grandmother…but that I hung in the closet. I had a weird closet that had room for a desk, but the ceiling was slanted…kind of like the little girl’s room from that Nicolas Cage Wicker Man movie….for the five of you who know what I’m talking about, high five!

I also believed the people in paintings moved when no one was looking at them. I believed that more than toys moving when no one was looking…sorry Toy Story.

So if you ever meet me and we’re in a room with pictures of people…I’ll probably act a little weird…because I don’t want the people in the pictures to tell other pictures what a weirdo I am.


I warned you all there wasn’t a set release schedule.

Did I say it just to keep myself from having to commit? Yes. But work is coming and I’ll need some place to keep myself out of trouble. So here is a commitment:

From now until my next show has closed, I will post something EVERY DAY! (To actually put a date on this: From June 17th to August 31st)

I see you all with the doubt in your eyes!!! But know this! Because it will be daily…sometimes the posts may only be a sentence long, may be a short story from my childhood, or may only be a photo. And if I’m in a really good mood, maybe I’ll post more than once in a day (no promises, though). It’ll be interesting to see and interesting for me to keep to the schedule.

“Does this post count as the first day’s post?” Yes………No! It’s not cheating.

Does this challenge make up for the long hiatus I was on? No. But I once read somewhere that in order to make something into a habit you have to repeat it for three weeks. So here we go!

30 So Far

I have 30 years old for almost 6 months.

Here’s what’s happened so far:

My birthday weekend: I got the sickest I’ve been in YEARS. 104.6 degree fever, no energy, no appetite, etc.

April: Hurt my back during rehearsal for a show. It still aches if I sit wrong for too long and I know it probably will for a long time.

May (literally the day before I’m posting this [yesterday, from the day this is published, but since some people may read this later I can’t really say yesterday]): My tooth chips, bringing a recurring nightmare to life for me.

(What nightmare you may ask? A recurring nightmare where I grind my teeth until they’re nothing left but little pieces of enamel  rattling around in my mouth.)

Also in May: A rock hit a window in my house and cracked it. My car battery died and I had to call AAA to start it so I could drive it to a Bridgestone because I live too far away from a Volkswagen dealer. So not only did I have to call someone on the phone, I had to call three people. Someone to fix the window, AAA, and someone at Bridgestone to make sure they could take my car. My anxiety was overworked in May (and now I have to go to the dentist…….>deep inhale and exhale<)

Many other things happened, but I can’t remember them right now…….I’m sure more is to come, but so far…..30 has been a rough year.


Strange Smell

Do your feet ever smell like popcorn?

I mean, I haven’t eaten popcorn in months nor have I stepped in any recently. After a long workday, I come home, take off my shoes, and relax only to have the odd smell of popcorn rise from my toes…

Okay, maybe a bit TMI on my smelly feet, but it only happens after really long workdays (12 hours). And YES I wash my feet, socks, and air out my shoes…

…I guess it could be worse. They could smell like fungus and then I’d have a real problem. Or does foot fungus smell like popcorn?

The Struggle Part 1

I’ve debated and debated and debated about whether or not to mention work.

So I’ll compromise and say I work in theater. Not onstage but backstage.

And this is where it gets a little tricky. I currently work with a theater company and I’m extremely fortunate to be working my third season with them. I will not name them, I will not even HINT at who they may be out of respect for their privacy (in case any of them ever read this and so I can talk about things that happen at work since it takes up a LOT of my life).

You’re probably thinking to yourself, but it’s a theater! They need the publicity! Fair, BUT! I can find better ways to promote them than through my blog.

Why even mention I work in theater? Because I need to talk about a struggle I’m having. You see I have the opportunity to move up in the company. Not into a permanent position per se.

You see, when I was in college, I was trained in Stage Management. What is that? Well, it’s someone who manages the stage…okay, there’s WAY more to it than that, but for the sake of this post it’s the person who manages rehearsals, runs the show, calls the cues, and sometimes keep the designers, director, and producers happy. Again, this is a WAAAAAAAY simplified explanation.

ANYBUT! I worked many shows as an assistant stage manager and production stage manager. I’ve worked student productions, operas, musicals, Shakespeare, and a world premiere play. So, I’ve done the job before.

Tying back into where I work…they’ve been mentioning to me the possibility of having me stage manage for them (assistant stage manage, 100%). This would mean getting me an Equity card which could lead to more work with other companies in the future, too.

That sounds great! You should do it! Why are you even hesitating?

I hear you. I understand. But…here’s the struggle…

I don’t deserve it. My imposter syndrome won’t allow me to deserve it. My anxiety and depression won’t allow me to deserve it. And I don’t want to let the company down because of my issues.

Also, as it stands now, I work every show during the season, but if I get an Equity card, there’s a chance I wouldn’t be able to work every show and though it could lead to work with other companies it ALSO would limit how much work I can get…I’m not really sure how it works, but it opens opportunities while also shutting down others.

Get over it!

I wish I could. But until I can…I’ll stay here.


TO BE CONTINUED…….sort of.

Story Time

A boy once told me…

I know anything starting a sentence this way tends to set off alarm bells. From men, Oh no, another example of a man being “misogynistic”. From women, Oh no, another example of a man being misogynistic. (Did you hear the difference in tone from each?)

Well, yeah, it kind of is…but also not purposefully. What I mean by that is this: the boy who said this was a year older than me in high school (he was roughly 17 and I was 15) and he was speaking his “honest opinion”. I don’t remember how the conversation came up, I don’t remember what anybody else said, but I remember word for word what he said.

Did the opinion perhaps stem from what other males in his life talk about or act around women? Of course. Which is why I don’t particularly hold it against him.

Did it still make me feel inadequate as a female due to how he, a male, viewed the other sex? Of course. But that’s not his fault.

It’s that age old blame game time. But honestly it’s a fair game. I blame society and the subliminal messages we were shown/told throughout our childhoods.

What could he have possibly said? (You’re thinking as I ramble into philosophical debates about the modern world)

A boy once told me, “A woman is fat when her stomach sticks out past her boobs.”

Now, let’s break this down as to why it’s problematic. (I chose not to use the word “misogynistic” because to be honest I’ve never heard any other man ever say this, but it is a problem and it doesn’t mean other man haven’t said this.)

First, does the statement mean to tell me that women less endowed have a smaller window of when they’re considered fat than women with large breasts? Here’s the problem with that: it encourages body dysmorphia in women with small breasts thus leading to eating disorders, plastic surgery, or possibly even drug abuse.

Second, this statement encourages women to attack other women’s bodies unfairly. There’s this strange belief among men (and women, but I’ve heard men speak about it, write about, and what have you more frequently than women) that women don’t actually get along/can’t be friends with other women because secretly we all hate each other. Or that we’re constantly judging each other because a) one is thin, b) one is fat, c) one is tall, d) one is short, e) one has perfect small boobs, f) one has voluptuous breasts, and so on and so on…

Third, do men really not understand what breasts are? They’re sacks of fat. Yes, some women get them even when they’re thin, but also they tend to grow larger due to bodily functions, hormonal changes, weight gain, or a number of other natural reasons. The one most men think of is pregnancy, where the constant joke is, “oh, honey, I love your new boobs. We should have a baby all the time.” (To which I say to those men, fuck you)

Fourth (yes, I’m still listing, baby): What even does this statement prove? Men, do you find this complimentary to women? Cause it’s not. Do you think it promotes body positivity by redefining fat? Cause it doesn’t.

Fifth, this is a stupid statement. Every woman’s body is different. Every breast is different. Every woman’s metabolism is different. And every woman doesn’t need to be defined by whether or not other people consider them fat. The only person allowed to judge them for that is my doctor and that’s because it’s their job. Do we have to listen to them? Hell no. (Disclaimer: I know the job of a doctor isn’t to judge their patients, it’s to tell them whether or not they’re healthy and what the possible difficulties can arise from their life choices)

Bottom line, this came from a place of, I choose to believe, honesty and thoughtfulness. But it is still a problem. We as women don’t need people to give us excuses for our bodies. We don’t need people to redefine what fat is or isn’t (especially if it involves breast sizes).

We just want people to accept us in the bodies we’ve worked really fucking hard to learn to love. It takes a lot when everyone tells you it “isn’t attractive because a and b” or when every ad, TV series, movie, or even book show off “beautiful, ideal” women bodies, faces, or hair.

I remember these words every time I look in the mirror, sit with a slouch, or even when I’m meeting new people and stand there shaking their hands. I constantly think, is my stomach sticking out past my boobs? Does that mean I’m fat?

All because a boy once told me…

Anybut, this was a bit deep and probably a lot of people aren’t going to like it. But it’s what I’ve got to say. And women who disagree with points I made…okay. That’s fine. I never claimed to be an expert in discussing these topics. I’m simply writing the thoughts in my head. This phrase popped into my head and I wrote things down in relation to it.

Now back to fun stuff?

Here’s a picture of me with no context (because I can’t remember what I was doing when this picture was taken) (and, yes, my phone IS upside down)(and and, yes, this was taken back when I had blonde hair):


Ghost Blogger

OOOooooohhhhhhh! The ghost blogger is back…

It’s been awhile. But if you think this means I’m back to being regular (even though I haven’t been regular the entire time), YOU’RE WRONG!!!

My work starts Monday (I’m kind of an independent contractor…kind of). I have breaks between jobs, but when it starts I tend to fall off the face of the earth. Though to be fair my friends would say nothing really feels different since I don’t talk to them very often (but I’ll get into that some time in the future).

Anybut, I thought I’d stop by to say…well, there may be a hiatus until my work’s done…but there may not be. It all depends on if I have the time or energy to make posts.

I’ll try. I promise I’ll try. But this job really drains me mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Maybe that’s the next post…a brief/vague explanation of my work…maybe.

We’ll see.