Tag Archives: personal

Slacker

I need to catch up on work…

Not actual job work, but work I promised myself I wouldn’t let slide. Well, that isn’t working out…no pun (?) intended…

I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a slacker or to be more precise last minute worker. As much as I try to not wait to the last minute to do things, the habit has been ingrained in me since, god, elementary school.

And I love hanging out with my friends….I DO!!! But sometimes, it feels like we always plan things right when the stars line up to allow me to get work done. I get the house to myself, it’s the weekend so I don’t have to worry about random knocks on the door…usually, and I feel the wave of slackness leaving (yes it comes in waves).

Then my friends plan things. Sometimes I get enough of a heads up to adjust accordingly….other times….I become a slacker. I put off saying I can’t do it, until it’s like too late or too inappropriate or uncouth to say I can’t do it.

And even if I did….how do you explain to your friends (who have faaaaar more strenuous jobs or actual 9-5, 5 days a week jobs) that you just can’t because of your own failures as an organized human being? Or how do you tell them that you just can’t go spend money on food or fun activities because the paychecks are few and far between and even when I get them….there’s not much left over after the necessities…

How do you let them know you’re ashamed of yourself and don’t talk about your life because you don’t want them to know how much of a downward spiral you feel like you’re on?

…………….Especially when their problems, their life issues…..are actual ones that aren’t because they’re slackers like me?

Laughter Makes the World Go Round…Right?

I have a confession to make.

When I watch videos on YouTube or niche reality shows (Harmon’s Quest, anyone?) I have a secret agenda.

The laughter.

Watching shows or videos where the people are genuinely having fun, making each other laugh, or go through crazy events…the laughter really makes me feel part of it. It makes me feel like I have friends.

Don’t look at me that way…I know the people on the screens aren’t my friends and never will be. AND I KNOW I DO HAVE FRIENDS!!

But there are times my friends…just aren’t into what I am. They don’t like the shows or videos I watch. They don’t understand the appeal of the things that make me feel so included. It’s not their fault. They have things they’re into that I’m not and this is not a diss on them.

And sometimes, I feel alone because I don’t get to see my friends that often anymore……So I put on a stupid little video of two people playing games together and having a fun time…and for a few minutes I feel like I’m not alone. I feel like my friends are there with me.

Always Late

I feel like I’m always late to the newest thing.

I didn’t have a twitter account until 2014 which was looooong after most of the planet. And even after I got one I realized none of my friends really use it anyways. They used Instagram.

So then I got an Instagram account in 2016. And that was really only to document a trip I went on. Eventually I added a second account to document my cats Lele and Midna.

I never got into Vine, but I thought, “this Tik Tok thing looks interesting.” So I got the app, but realized quickly…I was out of my league. So that went away.

I’ve been a fan of YouTube since its beginnings. I watched a lot of the old YouTubers before they became huge…then I stopped watching them once they did. But I always wanted to do it, too. So I created a book review channel back in 2014. It was really part of a New Year’s Resolution to be a little more outgoing. It makes sense if you think about it. You put yourself out in the universe for people to anonymously comment about you. I didn’t even mind the comments sayin my voice was annoying (I’ve always hated how I sounded in recordings so it wasn’t an insult really).

But that wasn’t what I really wanted to do and after one year (which was the resolution btw), I stopped uploading reviews. Maybe some day I’ll continue it, but not anytime soon.

See my favorite videos were Let’s Plays. I loved them. They reminded me of the days I’d watch my brother or my friends play games. It was nostalgic. So, I attempted to start a Let’s Play channel myself in 2015, but wussed out (slash couldn’t figure out how to do it on a Mac because almost if not all Let’s Players use PCs because they’re better for recording and games). But I finally, late as ever, swallowed my pride and started one.

This is not a promotional post for all of these things. Hence the reason I will not be including links to anything. I just wanted to spew all of this into the universe because since I’m late to all of these things…everyone who’ve benefitted from these things are either a) moving on to the next social media big thing, or b) have gotten so big they’re leaving the platforms or don’t do the content the same way.

Now I could go into a whole nother rant about content creators who change their content and become more…I don’t want to call it fake because I honestly believe it’s just become habit, but they’ve become more over the top in an unironic way. They don’t really want to be doing it anymore…they want to be actors or singers or whatever in mainstream media. But they’re afraid to lose the main source of their income in case they can’t make it up that large step. SO they don’t put as much into it as they used to. And by that I mean people who used to do all the editing themselves or writing themselves have a team now…and some creators make it work and still feel like the channel you grew to love, but others….it feels less personal and less passionate.

Sorry, I went into the rant anyways and this post was only supposed to be about how I get into popular things late and am shooting myself in the foot trying to do these things that other people have made into careers. But I know it won’t be a career. I know I won’t be popular. I know no one will watch. But I want to do it anyways. Because even if only 1 person watches and gets that nostalgic feeling that I got, it’s worth it.

Plus, I got my theater career and writing career to be unrealistic about. This is the side gig.

 

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.

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.

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):

IMG_1518

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.

 

Ganglia? I Hardly Know Ya!

Sorry about the bad title.

But I’m gonna throw a mild warning up: this may be gross. This may be oversharing. This may make you uncomfortable.

I have a ganglion cyst on my hand. I’ve had it since high school. Now when I say I’ve had it since high school what I mean is it’s come and gone since high school.

Sometimes it’s on my hand for a couple days, sometimes a couple weeks, and sometimes a whole frickin’ year.

There’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t hurt, it isn’t cancerous (should I have led with that?), and honestly it’s fun to freak people out with it. When I move the ring finger on my right hand I make it move up and down my hand. And when I really want to freak someone out with it, I make them touch it while I do that (HINT: it feels reeeeaaaallllyy weird).

What is a ganglion cyst? Basically it’s a water balloon under your skin. I know you doctor types will say, it’s a little more than that kjalfkjhaslidcyc! But for us stupid, non-doctor people it’s a water balloon under the skin. Sure, it’s not water in there….I think, and it doesn’t just POP like a balloon, but in my mind I’ve already settled on a blue water balloon bobbing beneath my skin.

YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!!!

Anybut, I could go to a doctor and have them suck the liquid out with a needle. BUT 1) NO NEEDLES!!! and b) it isn’t causing me any discomfort or pain and iii) it does eventually go away on its own.

I find after many hours typing on a keyboard, writing with a pen (or pencil), or using the mouse for many hours of scrolling through the interwebs….after all of those things is usually when my cyst returns.

So don’t spend so many hours on the computer.

So DoN’t SpEnD sO mAnY hOuRs On ThE cOmPuTeR! >insert sponge bob meme here<

First of all……..rude. Second of all……fair.

But then how will any of you learn about my ganglion cyst if I didn’t spend so much time on the computer! Ha! Check and mate!

End of rant……..but here’s a boomerang of my cyst at work (it’s by the nail mark):

 

Say My Name Again

Do you ever hear your name and just think…ugh.

I don’t mean when people you know say your name or your family call you. I’m talking about when you hear your name on TV or maybe your favorite celebrity says your name.

Does that make sense? Am I making sense? Probably not….

I mean, personally, I kind of don’t like the sound of my name. Full or nickname. I kind of like going through life with people not saying my name. When someone calls me by my name I kind of get a little slap back to reality like “oh, yeah, that is my name”. It almost kind of resets that moment in time.

It’s not that I don’t like my name….I do….I just don’t like the sound of it. I’ll be watching videos on YouTube or binging something on Netflix/Hulu when all of the sudden someone says my name. My immediate reaction is: “Huh, that’s what it would sound like if that person was talking to me.” My second reaction is: “Ugh, those sounds are weird together.”

………….

It’s kind of how I can’t relate to characters with my name. I immediately get uncomfortable watching cause I keep cringing when other characters say the name.

Course, maybe it’s also because my name is so close sounding to other names. There’s constant confusion in the real world. At my work, there’s a guy with a French name (but he’s from Canada) and when people say it fast it sounds like my name.

I also don’t like my coworkers calling me by my full first name. It sounds so………grown up…I mean, I’m grown up, but it sounds too grown up.

LET ME STAY YOUNG DAMMIT!!!

…………………

Anybut, maybe I’m just a weirdo who doesn’t like the sound of my name. But I also like my name. Oh well.