Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a special holiday for me. It's my favorite holiday. I think despite the fact that there is need to get food on the table, there is a certain mindset of relaxation that the holiday requires. The food is comforting and you can hang out with family and laugh and debate and tell stories. Something about the coming together and sharing a meal and minds makes me very happy. I come from a boisterous family. From the minute you walk in, it's a bombardment of Southern hospitality and interview session. Poor Braden, the first time he met everyone on Thanksgiving, I know he was overwhelmed. Everyone wanted to know his life story, how he felt about me and whether he'd like another piece of pie.

We all like to talk and we all like to be heard. All at the same time. It can be exhausting. We had a mass 10-person discussion about the merits of dumpster diving for produce, spearheaded by my deeply spiritual granola maid-of-honor and closest confidante cousin Happi, who gets the majority of her fruit at midnight from the Ingles dumpster (her reasoning - it's a good social time and you are saving wasted food.) My father, the Grand Debater, parried every argument. As for me, I made a joke about needing "a talking stick" to talk over everyone (and personally, I'm pretty sure the feminine hygiene trash goes in the dumpster and I don't want my fruit near THAT.)

We like to play games. I brought over Wits and Wagers, which is like Trivia Pursuit meets Price is Right and we all got way into it. I love when the entire family plays together, especially when I'm the one introducing the game.

I'm the oldest of the grandchildren...soon to just be children, since my grandmother is 86-years old and not in the best health. Actually I did get to spend time with her at lunch the day before Thanksgiving and she's very excited about me getting married, in her loopy happy way. I'm happy being the oldest, but for a while it felt like it was a disconnect. Now that the "kid table" is in high school, college or out on their own, I don't feel so lonely anymore. When I was in my teens, I always wanted to sit at the adult table and hear their conversations. They always seemed more interesting. Braden and I are the only committed couple, both at my family's house and his. I'm going to be the first to get married, and I suspect we will be the first to have kids. It will be nice when some of the other cousins start bringing around their significant others, new outsiders to bring in to the mold.

Everyone's coming into their own. Happi plays guitar with such a folky serenity, Dhugie is a fantastic wakeboarder and snowboarder, Mimi has a snarky charisma that can't be denied and Charlie is witty, smart with languages and full of personality. Caroline is sweet and introspective, Maggie's beautiful and popular and her twin brother Will has a nerdy side but is embracing high school theatre (which the fam was so excited to tell me about). And I love them all. I was sort of overwhelmed at how awesome my family is.

And then, I almost started crying because I didn't feel so awesome. I didn't mean to get emotional and anxious. I don't think anyone noticed, except my dad and Braden (and who else other than the two men in my life to notice my insecurities?) I made my recording and I wanted to share it, but at the same time I was ashamed. I have been pouring my money, my time, my life into this...forever. And I listened to it in my aunt's study during a down moment, and I don't know if I am overly self-critical or what but I heard fear in the recording. It sounded really beautiful but I heard my trepidation in my voice. And it just made me well up a little.

And then on the ride home, Braden, who couldn't care less about classical music, played it on the ride home. "I want to listen to it." And that's why I love him.

I wanted to share it, but we didn't have an auxiliary cord and I had forgotten to burn it to a CD. And everyone was hyper, so it wasn't really the space for an opera recording audience. But I got overly sensitive because I've been under so much stress and got a little testy with Dad. He started asking me about money and work and I just got embarrassed and bit my lip out of frustration. And he knew about all my money problems and I couldn't hide it anymore.

I haven't been sleeping well in months. And part of that is my neck injury and part of that is my frequent unemployment. The steroid didn't fix anything, which the doctor's warned me about. All it did was make me unfocused and wreck my vocal cords for the week. So now this means I am getting an MRI. Thank goodness for health insurance. I want to know so badly what's wrong with me because I can't go through life constantly medicated and sedated and feeling discomfort in my neck of all places. It's so hard because it seems to affect everything I do. Singing, exercise, driving, even lying down. I was on the couch and Braden came over to plant a heavy kiss on my cheek and it pressed my neck and the disc spasmed so severely. I swore from the pain. From a kiss. I hurt from a kiss. My fiance can't kiss me or embrace me sometimes without me hurting. I hate that. I want to get better. The past week when I've been onstage, I've been feeling nauseous and unbalanced and every once in a while my neck pain pulls me out of the moment, and I hate that too. It's like my brain is weighing down on me and I just can't be relaxed onstage like I used to. I want to talk to someone about it, but I don't want anyone to think that I'm whining or complaining or less professional than I am.

I feel like this injury puts just one more forcefield around me, when I'm already a type of person who tends to put walls when I'm under stress. I can't keep closing myself off. But I do. I barely make money for rent, I don't have much a full-time job and I just have trouble reaching out to people when I have no money or outlet. When I went to visit Happi in Boone, she confessed that she spent most of last year in solidarity for similar reasons so it's good to know I am not alone.

I just sent in application for Mannes in NYC. I know that they say that when you change your location, you don't necessarily change your state of mind. But I feel stuck here. I have made that clear several times. I am just praying that graduate school in a new location will be a window to a healthier mindset.

Wow, I really have a lot brewing inside me. The truth is, if you couldn't tell, my mind is kind of a muddled mess. It's a rough patch and I put so much pressure on myself but I want to know that things will okay one of these days and I'll find some career stability and social stability and I just keep believing in God and that He will point me in the right direction, as terrified as I may be.

So I got a little off topic. Thanksgiving. Even though I don't host Thanksgiving, it's my way of showing gratitude by bringing a dish or two. I tried my hand at baking and made an incredibly decadent pumpkin cheesecake for my family which everyone was thankful for. And I made some butternut squash and green bean casserole from scratch, for the Leonard family (and I will be a Leonard soon enough) because I find there are never enough veggies on the Thanksgiving table and those were well received as well. So through all these fears and anxieties, here is what I am thankful for:

- My fiance Braden, who always shows such love and sincerity, no matter what the situation. He takes care of me without being patronizing, plans for the future, embraces my good qualities and overlooks the bad ones and believes in me and us and that we can get through this rough patch together.
- My parents, who believe that love, family and God are the most important things in life. They love me enough to hug when I'm down, but not coddle me like a child. They are encouraging without being enabling, helpful and want me to the best person I can be. They also love each after 30 years of being together and have shown me what a happy marriage is and I am grateful that.
- My extended family, all of whom are vibrant and full of life and joy. They make me laugh, they make me think and no matter what, they make me feel welcome when I am around. Even if it's a brief sit-down over tea, they always make time for me. I am appreciative to have such loving cousins, aunts and uncles.
- A roof over my head and enough money to be able to provide meals for myself every day.
- My country, where I am free to express myself as a woman, where I can freely pursue my art and career without persecution.
- My friends all over the world, who let me know they remember me when I need it most.
- My health, and the ability to live and breathe another day.

The Good Pain - Not

I was watching "The Good Wife" tonight, which I don't usually watch but I highly suggest if you like drama and lawyers. Michael J. Fox plays a corrupt lawyer with a neurological disorder not unlike Parkinson's disease, which he has in real life.

We're going on month 5 of my slipped disc syndrome and still no solid results. In fact, in some ways it feels a lot worse. I can't sleep through the night unless I'm taking lots of ibeprofun. But I can't take much of any pain killer without getting nauseous and twitchy. I scratch myself in my sleep from...anxiety? pain? I'm not sure. When I'm not on the meds, I barely have the energy to do anything but I can't be on them for long, and I know they aren't good for the vocal cords.

This is really the first long term injury/condition I have ever obtained. I keep being asked about additional symptoms because additional symptoms mean something serious. Something neurological. They want to give me a steroid which I am reluctant to do because it's my neck and steroids seriously wreck the voice. But at this point anything to take away the pain so I can lay down comfortably. I have heating pads and ice packs and used a traction machine and nothing consistently helps. It's bothersome. I wonder, "how long will this last?" A year? Will I be able to sleep on my wedding night?

I turned 25 last Thursday. Off-subject, it was a very relaxing birthday. Braden woke me up with a bouquet of roses and new sneakers that I had been eying (and I love them!). I got my fair share of facebook birthday wishes and Braden and I spent the evening at my favorite swanky bar, City Beverage. And while I don't consider myself old, I've become acutely aware of my body's frailties. I can't imagine having cancer or MS or something where the pain is never ending and there's no closure in sight. I get through the day. I go to my jobs, I sing and go to rehearsal. I even manage to exercise sometimes. But I do wake up every day from pain. And I go to sleep every day in pain. And it's not in my head.

Headshots through the years

I just got new headshots done, so I thought I'd take a look back.

So this was the one I had as I entered college. It's big hair, big hair and more big hair!! Also I did not embrace eyebrow waxing at this point my life.

These I got in college to express a more, playful character actress sensibility. I use the one on the right a lot even though I think I'm a lot more attractive than the picture suggests. The fact is I can't do hair or makeup worth my life.

I wish my hair could look that shiny every day! I look like a hair commercial. And I love my eyes and teeth and everything about them!! I know they are a little more formal but as I'm trying to do more operatic soprano singing and leading lady business I'm okay with that.

NOTHING WRONG.

So I went to the orthopedist and they gave me x-rays and the doctor looks at me and says...

"There's nothing wrong with you. It seems you suffer from anxiety. I'm going to prescribe you some Xanax."

And I just started laughing. I said nothing, I just opened my mouth and out came one of those dry laughs. Now if you know me or if you read this blog, you'll understand why this is funny. In that I've suffered from anxiety for most of my young adult life, on all sorts of levels. And for a doctor to nonchalantly prescribe anti-anxiety meds as if it will make all my problems go away is kind of darkly hilarious.

To be fair, there's nothing wrong with my spine or muscles. No tumors or anything. But x-rays don't pick up soft tissue so we are still trying to ease that disc back in. It's such a pain. It's taking it's sweet time. I think it's getting better...I can't be sure.

Help, I'm a PT Junkie

So I have this traction machine that puts weights on my neck to help extend the vertebrae and hopefully the disk will slide back into place. I feel it's like something out of the movie "Brazil", a bizarre future machine that solves nothing. I never imagined myself with a painful neck injury and eating ibeprofun like candy (though I don't recommend it.) Of course, I never imagined myself sitting on a couch that I had pushed through a window or being a well-loved acting teacher to all ages or being happily engaged in a small town to someone who didn't want to kill me every other week. But THEN...I never really imagined that either...so life is funny like that. Sometimes it's a crazy dramatic tower of terror. Other times you're just comfortable and cuddled up next to each other on the couch that you pushed through the window together watching dramatic television.

Next week I am meeting with an orthopedist. Everyone keep whispering around me "surgery", but I am really terrified to get surgery on my neck. I mean, I am really such a puss when it comes to surgery anyways. But my neck, yikes, that's such a vulnerable place. So let's all cross our fingers for NO SURGERY and NO TUMORS!

I'm starting to wonder if this blockage is symbolic. Like a blockage in my fight against anxiety and career and what I would like to do. And I know there are things holding me back. And I know there are things I have to settle for. And I just sort of have to reconcile the two. And know that Dancing With The Stars is probably not in my future (but let's just be honest...I could dance circles around The Situation). And know that my husband to be would never be happy with me wanting to move out of state. :( Unless I get a scholarship, or even get in at all. I believe there are two types of people in life: Those who shoot for the moon and reach it and those who have to adapt their lives for whatever shining star they land on. And I...am a shoot for the moon type who is adjusting living on a star. But it's a star all the same. Better than empty space.

A bunch of us are going to the Jon Stewart Rally to Restore Sanity on the 30th. Even though DC conjures up a few painful memories, I love DC in the fall. And Braden loves the Daily Show. And our friends love catching a ride with us. So we'll make it all work. Satirical moderate rally FTW!

Passionella

There's a little known musical of one-acts called The Apple Tree. The acts revolve around stories about relationships between men and women, in a dated 1960s battle of the sexes kind of way that somehow seems nostalgic today. The first act is a fleshed out whimsical version of Adam & Eve, the second a vampy parable about The Lady or The Tiger. The third is an American Cinderella story about a nasally chimney sweeper girl who by the magic of her Fairy Godmother in her television, turns into a beautiful blonde bombshell movie star called Passionella...but it only lasts until 4am when the Late Late Show ends. It's cute, and a fantastic star vehicle.

I was going to play Passionella. But as soon as I gotten the offer and as soon as I let my excitement bubble over and as soon as I had shared the news with my fiance, the show was off. As these things seem to happen, the show fell through. Time, money, and not enough men is always the way the sad performance story goes.

Sigh.

Katy Perry's Boobs

I understand the hoopla with this, I mean parents will always find something to complain about when it comes to pop culture. And there's been lots of fuss all over the message board, but the first thing that came to my mind that hasn't been mentioned anywhere is "Isn't there some kind of wardrobe stylist on Sesame Street that would provide something appropriate to wear?" It's a TV show; don't they screen these kind of things? Or maybe, they just let her show up in whatever she wants.

In any case, she knows how to rock a pin-up look. And truth be told, the song still sounds kind of dirty.

If my song had wings!

I am singing this song right now.

In college, Amy said I reminded her of a silent movie star. Maybe I should just record a bunch of art songs and film them in black and white.

I am seriously lacking the brainpower to do some musical analysis. I have not been getting nearly enough sleep and my words aren't making sense. I'll give you this: I do like the subtle sweetness of this video. It seems like too many opera singers (myself included) try way too hard to be bombastic and overpowering, even in pianissimo and there's such a relaxing quality to her tone.

Just call me FrankenGinny

All those years of feeling insecure and dropping your head down away from people is going to kill you!


Maybe.

I seem to have fallen victim to something entitled “Acute Disk Prolapse”. In layman’s terms I have a slipped disk in my neck vertebrae. Which means I feel a very specific sharp pain in the left side of my neck almost all the time. My neck had been irritating me since the beginning of the summer and honestly I had been ignoring it hoping it would go away. But it didn’t. Then it got to the point where my headaches wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t turn my neck over my left side. Fun. Now I find myself with two Physical Therapy (which is kind of like getting a massage, only not as fun.) appointments a week.

Apparently this is fairly common. For 40-somethings who’ve sat at their desks for 15 years. I guess my body has always been quicker to mature than others. Ha. At the very least, maybe I can put some bolts in my neck and have a cah-razy costume for Halloween. Just call me FrankenGinny.

Also, I tried to make myself feel better by downing 10 or so ibeprofun a day. Clearly, I'm ignorant when it comes to anti-inflammotaries and should read more backs of bottles. Despite the fact that it did numb the pain temporarily, take a lesson from the woman who was revisiting her beef strogonoff in the middle of the night: do NOT take that many pills on a regular basis.

I’m hoping that a couple of weeks of PT will help because it is no fun to wake up physically miserable every single morning. So right at this point in my life where I have so much to do, I have to slow down and R-E-L-A-X because my body has it in for me. Which really requires a little more planning, a little more saying "no" and a lot more laying on the floor stretching my neck thinking "how the hell did I get myself into this?"

My mother, the "agent"

I wish my mother was an actual competent agent with connections and credintials instead of some self-appointed "volunteer" headhunter that makes phone calls to companies on my behalf saying she knows a young professional with a BFA and makes up bizarro stories about how she's an art teacher and is trying to find employment for someone who is in "no way her daughter". It's one thing to use your connections. It's another thing to just meddle. My mother, the professional. My mother is not an art teacher. Throwing clashing splashes of color on a wall and safety pinning pillow shams together does not an art teacher make.

My mother finds all these "leads" from calling people and gushing about how talented and established I am without ever telling them anything about me. It's the cold call equivilent of tabloid news. She's started doing it for Braden too, much to his chagrin. We're adults and even though it's unwarrented, there's no saying "no." The word "no" is temporary in my Mom's mind, like a wart you file down but just comes back. It does make me wish we cut ourselves off from her market, aka the Triangle, since she's lived here for 50 years and claims to have connections with everybody.

Braden's mom is a professional artist. She's involved in organizations and galleries and has a website and everything. My mother knows how to put a classy and stylish outfit together, but I wouldn't exactly call that art.

Mom rant over.

She might be on to somthing. She introduced me to my teaching job now, which is very promising but only part time. I love it though. I love my students - they make me laugh and I continue to be impressed with their talent. I don't think I was that talented at 16. If I can help these students get the part they want or get into the conservatory they want, that would be a profound accomplishment. Losing on everything I worked for, but providing a better oppurtunity for someone else? I suppose that's what teaching is all about.

The Monti

This past weekend, Braden and I went to see The Monti at the Carrboro ArtsCenter. The Monti is a North Carolina based spoken narrative forum where inspired storytellers and tell a story within the theme within a certain time limit (to keep people from rambling). It's inspired by one in New York called The Moth. It's hard to describe if you never seen anything like it, but it's kind of like a David Sedaris reading meets occasional stand-up comedy. I first got into the Monti when I heard it on NPR (and yes, I have Braden to thank for introducing me to the joys of NPR. NPR was just not something we listened to in our house growing up, nor would I ever think to listen to it on my own.) I heard these people sharing these incredibly compelling stories on the air and since I'm a huge fan of memoir, I thought "I have to see this!"

I love stories about real-life stories about people and their community unit. Perhaps this was why I was so interested in sociology in college. So watching The Monti was right up my alley. The headliner was a man by the name of Greg Taylor, who was exonerated after 17 years in prison where he was wrongfully accused of murder. His story mostly covered how he was overwhelmed with choices after leaving prison; all the items for sale in Target, the massive amounts of buttons on washing machines and cell phones, the option to use a fork and knife at dinner. We don't really think about the little details of the freedoms we have and how profound those details are.

The Monti has an occasional "open-mic night" called StorySlam where audience members can tell a story for 5 minutes under the assigned theme. I'd really love to participate but alas most of them all fall on Tuesday nights and alas I have work! But I too love sharing stories and I think it'd be fun and educational to participate. Orating is a bit of lost art, one that goes back way before television, radio, and any type of recording.

I highly recommend The Monti for Triangle visitors and natives. It made for a good date night...not too long of a show. We were able to grab a drink before hand and some wings and drinks afterwards...and also more drinks after that. Between The Station, The ArtsCenter, Ba Da Wings and Speakeasy, we certainly hit the best of Carrboro. All and all, very successful Saturday night out.

Audition Etiquette

Yesterday, I helped adjudicate the song and dance auditions for TPAC's Broadway Revue. Watching a bevy of 8-16 year olds audition is exhausting. I had forgotten about all the adolescent drama that goes into producing the drama. It had been a long time, if it all, that I had been on "the other side" of the table. It probably helped since I was fresh talent and didn't know any of these kids personalities. In any case, some of their audition techniques were sloppy. At least I have a lesson plan for Tuesday -- We are SO working on Intros!!

Audition Intro Etiquette & Tips:
- Before you even walk into the room, take a deep breath and imagine from beginning to end a successful audition. A positive mindset leads to a positive audition.
- When you walk in the room, SAY HELLO and SMILE to the adjudicators. Remember, "first impressions" go a long way.
- If you are singing, walk over to the accompanist, hand them your music, explain where you are starting and ending, softly sing your tempo. Make sure you music is readable and has cuts or changes clearly marked. This is part of being prepared. If you are doing a monologue let them know if you are going to sing first or do the monologue first.
- Always let the accompanist know if you want them to play an intro or just the first note. Practice IN ADVANCE how you want to start a song. The scariest part of an audition song is starting it. (I prefer to just have them play the first note because I like to control when I'm starting the song and so I know exactly what my note is. Others find it easier with a short musical intro.)
- If the audition requests 16 bars, DO 16 BARS. However, if the cut lends itself to 20-24 bars, do that. Some songs don't comfortably fit into 16 bar cuts. BUT, keep it under 32 bars. The reason auditions ask for 16 bars is for time and given the choice, people always do more than that. If we asked for 32 bars, people would do the whole song. It's true. In fact, there will always be people who try to do the whole song no matter what because it shows off "their range". If you can show us your range in a whole song or play, you can do it in a 1 minute cut too.
- After you are done speaking to the accompanist, ask where the adjudicators would like you to stand and go where they tell you. (usually there's an X or a line of tape on the floor). Plant your feet and let your arms rest at your side. Don't wiggle or sway. Take a breath and center yourself.
- Wait until they are making eye contact with you (sometimes they will look at your resume and audition form or still be making notes as you enter). Smile and state your name, your # (if you have one) and what pieces you are doing. "Hi my name is Jenny Jones, #45 and I'll be singing "If I Loved You" and doing a piece from Shakespeare's "As You Like It"" Say this loudly and clearly. Part of the audition is seeing if you can project and enunciate. (That's why we put the tape so far back in the room.)
- DO NOT make excuses about being nervous, sick, not knowing your music, etc. This looks SO unprofessional. Remember, preparedness is half of a successful audition! I have seen extremely talented people muddy up their auditions by making huge deals about their pieces and how they are nervous they are. Keep it to yourself! Part of the audition is how you present yourself. Auditioneers don't care if you make mistakes or are nervous. We know people get nervous in auditions. Everybody gets nervous in auditions. What we do care about is how you handle those nerves. One of the things we remember most is CONFIDENCE, not little errors.
- BREATHE. Take in your surroundings. Find a focal point at eye level to start your pieces (most adjudicators prefer if you don't do the piece right at them.) Depending on space, I like to pick a point right behind them or a few chairs in front of them. Unless it is a bold and SPECIFIC acting choice, don't start your piece looking at the ground or at the ceiling.
- If you are doing a song, there are two ways to let the accompanist know you are ready. The first is to acknowledge them with eye contact and a small nod. The other more commonly used way is by simply taking a breath and prepping yourself. If you look ready and feel ready, the accompanist will start. The more you audition, the smoother this transition will be.
- Make sure you face out during the majority of your pieces. I have seen people do entire songs and monologues profile. Not only is it odd to watch, it obscures the face. You can move away from the X, but make sure you stay in the general area and find your way back to the spot by the end of your pieces.
- Take a beat on the last moment of your piece and smoothly ease back into yourself. Say THANK YOU loudly and clearly. You did it! Take another breath to center yourself after you've finished. DO NOT apologize if you've made any mistakes (every single person auditioning will make a mistake). Wait to see if they have comments or requests. If not, take your music from the pianist, thank everyone again and leave the room with your head held high.
- Don't diss other auditionees or gossip about the audition. Sometimes there are other company members, directors or other important adults in the lobby. Remember, you are auditioning yourself so don't let it go to waste by ruining your reputation in the lobby!
- Finally, don't beat yourself  after you leave the room. Often, we are our own worst enemy. Feeling prepared and confident about our work leads to more successful auditions in the long run. Better auditions make us better performers!

The New Friend Conundrum

It is hard to make friends once your out of the college. It is especially hard for ME to make friends in general. It's not that I don't meet new people. I have that moment after I meet them  and I'm staring at my phone in confusion "should I call them? should I wait for them to call me?" So I usually text them (hey would you like to go get sushi on Wednesday? I had so much fun meeting you.") and either they are busy or something comes up in my life. And I apologize and I NEVER HEAR FROM THEM AGAIN. I don't try to meet up with them again because, gosh, it was just too hard the first time.

There was a girl I met at a bar about 6 months ago. She was really into film and we seemed to hit it off even though we were both tipsy. I pretty much assumed we were destined to be best buddies. So I had her number in my phone and went the through the whole "let's get sushi" charade. Nothing ever happened. At some point during a metaphysical contact cleaning months later, I deleted her number.

So I had dinner at PF Changs last weekend, where she works and she recognized me! Holy cow! Serendipitous friendship! I imagined wonderful girly dates of window shopping and guilt-free gelato. I said I would call her only to realize later that I DIDN'T HAVE HER PHONE NUMBER. I also, I never knew her last name. This friendship was starting to feel like a one night stand that I had shrouded in glory.

So I can go back to Chang's and if she's there ask for her phone number (or ask from her co-workers...that's not creepy). Braden suggests I troll the Facebook search box for an hour and see if I recognize her face. Or I can just wait until we meet again...fate could be on my side, right?

Hot for teacher

Apparently, I have a tendency to kiss straight on and completely smush Braden's nose. Ex-boyfriends can attest: I have always been a rather aggressive smoocher. I would make the worst soap star ever. In my defense, my neck injury makes turning my head rather uncomfortable.

I did not subject anyone to Cher hair, but Braden and both discovered that is insanely difficult to find photogenic ways to pose ourselves. A lot of the photos we were standing there like bad prom set-ups. How do you stand up and look "romantic" in posed photos? It either looks way too slack or awkward, as in "how do we position these limbs of ours???" Do people just walk through the woods, holding hands and smiling? I THINK NOT.

I am looking forward to the day that I become Virginia Leonard and no longer Ginny Buckner. Shed your name, shed your unwanted idenity? Getting married is the ultimate benefit for those looking for a change in their persona. It's kind of like going to college. It's a clean slate.

I started teaching yesterday. I have about 12 kids in each class for each age group 7-9s, 10-12s, and teens. I have a much better rapport with teens than the little ones. And don't get me started on the 7-9 year olds. For my first day, I just felt like I was doing crowd control. A lot of my beginning exercises involve sort of free exploring and that just did not cut it with the wee ones. I think more disipline is neccessary. I think I'm gonna have to do a lot more research on what works and what doesn't.

I don't know if I'm a natural at this, but I hope I can help the kids grow and achieve whatever they want to achieve. Most of my teen class want to be MT majors, so I want to help them get there!

Tonight I have an audition for "The Magic Flute". As a soprano, it's kind of a crap shoot. From what I understand here is the ratio of talent: 10 sopranos for every mezzo, tenor and baritone. I also overslept this morning and look a little less than glam as of now. Oh well...positive thinking!

Snap out of it!

I may not be a New York Italian, but I've always believed that big boisterous Southern families are not that much different than Italian ones.

I watched Moonstruck tonight, which is one of my favorite romantic movies of all time. It's like a photograph come to life of an Italian family in Brooklyn and the potential for romance. Cher falls in love with Nicholas Cage (before he became a caricature of himself). My favorite part is when she gets a fantastic 80s hair makeover and they go to the opera. The soundtrack consists of lots of little redone bits from La Boheme. When all the characters look at the moon ("It's like a big snowball."), Musetta's Waltz plays in the background. It's such a great little movie about real people falling in love and what that means in the context of family.

Tomorrow, we're getting engagement pictures done. I'm tempted to pull out the "Cher-do" (Lord knows I have the hair to do it.) but I wouldn't subject Braden to that.

Even when I lose, I still win.

Right now, I'm temping downtown. Which means I get to train myself in a variety of office grunt work skills such as building MS word templates and filing and making double-sided copies. And while it can be somewhat disenchanting being a 20-something temp, I have to remember that lots of people became successful inspite of their insepid temp work.

- Ryan from "The Office" - Mostly just succeeds with impersonating the latest business trend. Right now I think he's somewhere between Gordon Gecko and hipster office chic.
- Tanya (Jane Adams) from "Hung" - Oh, to rampage on my co-workers by screaming "I'M A MOTHERF**KING PIMP!" Woman, you and your mousey resolve continue to inspire me.
- Julie Powell from "Julie and Julia" - Hey, she got a movie and second book deal. And she was an actress! And not only that, the only real person on this list.

I guess I'm not proving my point by coming up with fictionalized characters. The truth is people don't like to read about losers who continue to lose. No one wants to watch the movie where the temp is still the temp at the end of the movie, unless the director is trying to make some point with dramatic irony.

Tonight my voice lessons start up again. And so begins the home stretch towards grad school. And after admitting my fear, I am ready to buckle down and pursue this bitch. I don't care if my social contacts are weak or that my last batch of auditions resulted in nothing. It is so hard to disegard feelings of insecurity but well...I don't have a choice.

Life is young. And when you work downtown, you quickly realize that there are peopel wandering around that have it so much worse than you. I'll refrain from ghetto stereotypes, but even when I lose, I still win. In little ways. For example:

- I have a fiance (who, among other things, loves me sincerely and doesn't beat me)
- We have some inspired wedding plans and honeymoon plans (you can read about them here: http://www.ginnyandbraden.blogspot.com/)
- I'm not in rehab (zing)
- I have my voice. I'll always have that.

Paralyzed

People say that if you want something hard enough and you dream hard enough you can make it come true. I kind of lived by that philosophy my entire life until the last couple of years. I guess I've never really had the social skills to back it up. Or whatever popularity I had in high school I lost somewhere along the way. And throughout college I became more and more insecure that I pretty much digressed into a person. In addition to having a real abusive romantic relationship, I've realized that college was an abusive relationship.

That's a really difficult thing to write. It's embarrassing. Humiliating. It's like when I admit that to myself, I'm setting myself up for "it's your fault, you deserve it, you just weren't good enough, you were a freak." But at the same time, professors and students, would tell me something different to my face. And I would just kind of fall for it all over again. I feel like I missed out on a lot because I wasn't able to form close relationships with people. All these things happened...some were probably my shyness and oddness and others were just happenstance. I'm sad that I don't have the friends or even acquaintances that a lot of people do. I'm sad that I didn't know how to reach out to people. I'm sad that my anxiety got the best of me back then and made me a pariah and that to this day it still takes over me.

Now I've been balled up on the couch for the past couple of weeks, paralyzed with pain for a lot of different reasons. It's gotten to the point where my body is just attacking me, my neck muscles have completely clinched up. I cry all the time, every day. I don't sleep very well. I can't say that I'm suicidal but there have been days when I stayed in bed all day cause it just made me felt better. I have wanted to disappear off the face of the earth. I watch those Cymbalta commercials that come on late at night and after Oprah and relate to them.

I am really terrified about grad school applications. I'm just having a lot of trouble dealing with that pain and rejection all over again. I'm really scared about getting stomped on all over again. I'm scared to move to New York...I feel like no one would give me the time of day. I want to...I have a fiance with really no wanderlust or city desire in him, which sucks. I wish he was that kind of partner. I really don't want to be confined to these 4 walls and this little crunchy college town my whole life. I know for sure that would kill me. I know that. I've expressed that. I don't know who's in my corner. I don't know if I believe in myself anymore.

And my poor fiance sees all this and doesn't understand and probably never will. It probably seems like ridiculous minutae from his perspective. He's got his own crosses to bare. He's frustrated, annoyed, helpless maybe...a combination of all of them. Depression drives a wedge into relationships.

Anyways, this is my own little corner of the internet, and I guess in this day and age of adulthood and job hunting you probably aren't supposed to talk about this kind of stuff. But I can't afford a therapist and sometimes it's easier to write things out in plain English.

It's the first time in my life where I don't have any direction.

Being a Boomlette

Popular culture has a rough time coming up with a cohesive name for the current young adult generation. Gen Y and Millinikids never really stuck, so I'm hoping "Boomlette" aka Baby Boomer spawn will catch on. I can't really take credit for this term: my dad came up with it.

We were the first generation to fully take advantage of the internet and for most of us, it's become the primary way of communicating. We pioneered email, IMing, blogs and facebook.

Our movies, music, and television reach us by Netflix, iPods, and DVRs (and for many of us, just the internet.)

Our hovercraft parents escorted us to sports practices, music lessons and host of other activities to get us into 4 year colleges and the majority of us receive our diplomas right in the heat of the worst. recession. ever. Which means many of us overachievers can't find jobs (myself included).

The Baby Boomers were all about idealism and peace and love, all while fighting the system. Generation X was about how greed is a good thing and that a whole lotta cutthroat work ethic would get you the summer house, fancy car and the latest iphone, all by the time you were 30.

So where are we now? What about the Boomlettes (Baby Boomer offspring)? We were raised with the work ethic of Xers and hovercraft Boomer parents who wanted us to thrive and suddenly our economy went, pun intended, boom and I don't know about the rest of you, but now I have NO IDEA what we're supposed to accomplish, since many of us can barely break through the front door.

Now I've been a person who's just simply wanted to be a pursuer of the arts. Sing some opera, write a memoir, play piano, learn a language or two, cook the perfect gourmet dinner. I would have made a swell Victorian noble, or bohemian, depending on which side of the economic pendulum I landed on. I have always lived under the mantra that one should always be learning. I am pretty sure that if had I the time and one of JK Rowling's little time-traveler hourglass necklaces, I would have 5 bachelor's degrees (but the performing arts one is the one I wanted the mostess, so I went with that.) I think that's why my time studying abroad in Florence was so happy. An entire school devoted to teaching those language, music, cooking and art! Oh it was like a haven for me! With an unlimited bank account, I could have lived there FOREVER.


It should be noted that I studied in Florence in Fall of 2008. I was living in a dreamland of opera and art history, while the US was going through the worst recession in recent history. When I left, gas was 2.79 in central NC and the election was starting to pick up on all cylinders. When I returned, we had a new president and gas was 1.45 and everyone's life seemed to be shattered in someway. And I'm starting to think that, despite current economic circumstances, I should still live my life by pursuing knowledge and the arts.


But we all have to find a way to eat and pay bills. I think we're supposed to combine the two philosophies of Boomers and Xers. Do what we love, not what we're "supposed" to do to be "successful" and find a way to live off it. That's all I really want.



Oh and in case you're wondering...If I had five majors...they would be the following:


Theatre (check)


Vocal Performance


Media Communications


Italian Language

Psychology


Apparently you can make money with ads on your blogs. And considering I am without income as of this week, this is appealing. I'm not telling you to click those ads. But thanks for visiting. :)

When I walk down the street...

Being born 6 weeks early, I've always assumed that in a parallel universe, I was destined for other things. I'm pretty sure I would make a stellar Victorian bohemian, just moping around in some European city with a big hat citing pompous lines about impressionism and Oscar Wilde and imperialism while wearing a rather large chapeau. I should be wearing a big hat. It balances out the hips, creating a desirable silouette. The black church ladies get this. I would be singing in the streets (I really don't know what's stopping me from doing that...it's Carrboro, after all.) And hopefully finding a promising suitor who could also be a benefactor.

But then there wouldn't be blogs and I wouldn't have L & O: SVU as background noise on at 2am while I lie awake thinking how I'm going to pay this months rent. Which I suppose doesn't make me all that different from the 19th century Paris riffraff. And Braden, while not much of a benefactor (he did buy me a new vacuum cleaner though, so who's to say...) is a very fine fiance.

I will, if the stars align, be working again soon...! I had an interview today for an acting and muscial theatre teacher at a dance school in Durham. I would be teaching middle schoolers theatre games and scene study and coaching high schoolers on their monologues and song selections. WHICH is EXACTLY what I WANT to do. So that's exciting. The bad news is it's only once a week but the good news is it's the teaching job I want, and is definitely solid padding for the resume and grad school.

Here's the funny thing. I ended up pimping some references I know in the area who will remain unnamed here (other recent theatre graduates in the area with better jobs than I). So I basically almost got someone else hired for the job during my interview. But I have two weeks to come up with a curriculum and prove I'm not a crazy person. Time to pull out the ole' rolodex of teacher friends

In the meantime, still looking for full time day job that doesn't require a car. Mostly I just stay at home and clean like the good house-fiancee I am, and sing repertoire and play piano. Today I was inspired by Rodgers and Hammerstein and started singing Mister Snow from Carousel. And started crying at the part where she talks about getting married and how happy she is. I have a history of crying during singing but this one is little different. After reading the lyrics, I feel a very deep connection to this song that I didn't know I had. I'm pretty sure there's a study between emotions and hitting certain notes which means you're more likely to choke up while singing. It happens to me fairly frequently. I'll start singing and I'll get to a point in the song and start crying and lose the connection. Not because it sounds bad but because it suddenly becomes rooted in me. And singing is a vulnerable activity.

But Mister Snow really does emulate my love for Braden: down to earth, honest, traditional and real.

Vampire Virgins - my first foray into the Twilight films

I love my pop culture phenoms. I attended the last two Harry Potter midnight book releases. I dressed up for the Sex and the City finale and movie. But over the course of the last years, Twilight has completely passed me by. 

First and foremost, I don't understand the appeal of vampires. There's nothing sexy to me about falling in love with someone who has the capacity to kill you during your makeout sessions, as well as bring you into the clan of the undead. I never watched Buffy and found myself staring into space when my 6th grade French class swooned over Angel. And while "Hung" and "Mad Men" are always on my DVR, I've passed over "True Blood" (probably the only acclaimed cable drama I haven't given a chance.)

So the best chance of me watching the Twilight movies would be on a hungover Sunday afternoon sometime in the future, too lazy to change the channel. But I saw the Big 3 (Rob, Kristin, & Taylor aka "whats-his-abs") on Oprah a few days ago. Robert Pattinson showed off his dry British humor and Taylor Lautner won me over with his winning smile (also: ABS). The tiniest piece of me was intrigued...could I get on the Twi-hard train?

More proof that I was destined to watch these movies: my fiance had entertained renting them on Netflix too. Thank goodness for the internet. Instant gratification for our vampire curiousity! The titular Twilight starts out like many teen films; protagonist moves to new town and struggles to fit in. Bella is morose and moody and longing for...something. On her first day at school, she's POPULAR and all the kids want to get to know her and be her friend. Hold the phone, when does that happen in real life? The last time I checked, teenagers who sulk and pout are not the center of attention in the cafeteria. I should know. I was an awkward drama kid, and yes, I did become prom queen...er, sigh, moving on. Maybe someone should make a movie of my life?

Okay, so this is pretty much the first third of the movie. Edward looks at Bella longingly and lustfully, with a little bit of distain thrown in. She, like all young girls, continue to go after the guy that keeps pushing them away. We all want the one who makes us feel bad, don't we ladies? Their exchanges go something like this "I want you." "You can't have me." "I must have you." "No, I'm going to stare dreamily at you until you go away." It also must be noted that all their exchanges stay at the same low intensity level. I kept waiting for someone to raise their voice or pitch as they reacted to each other. Like regular conversation. The more you interact the more intense it gets...not in Twilight, folks. They pretty much read the lines as if they're reading a script cold for the first time. Flatlined conversation. Part of the problem is Rob's American accent. It's as if he's trying SOHARD to get our flat vowels correct that he's completely thrown emotion out the window. My acting professor from college would be so displeased.

So at this point in the movie, I really don't get it. This turns the teenage girls on? A pale faced pretty boy with no personality? For that matter, are 2010 teenage girls like Bella - outwardly morose and wanting to escape high school and present life by turning into a vampire? Maybe it's a sign of the times. The recession is still in full force, gas prices are high and a lot of us still don't have health insurance. Remember our late 90s teen movies (She's All That and 10 Things I Hate About You come to mind) - they were so optimistic about how awesome our lives were going to be, but in the meantime let's find the mate of our dreams and get laid. Now, those teenagers had FUN. Not in the Twi-era. Moody alternative music underscores our desire for a fantasyland and a mate that really is a fantasy creation.

After he tells her his secret "HEY BABE I'M A VAMPIRE AND I WANT TO BITE YOU SO HARD," the movie picks up its pace a little bit. We meet his vampire family (hey it's Dr. Coop from "Nurse Jackie"! Nice ascot.) We get some vampy battle scenes, he saves her life and in the end, Edward and Bella go to the prom. So the message I'm getting: we're all damsels in distress who want to be saved, and that savoir better escort us to the big dance.

So Braden and I made fun of it throughout the whole movie. But we never wanted to turn it off and as soon as it was over I asked him, "Wanna get the next one?" He immediately responded. "Yes, let's watch it right now." So despite the fact that it's sappy and wooden, there's no denying that there's something inexplictably enthralling about those vampires.

I'll spare you my review of New Moon, but let's just say the drama knob goes to 11. There's no condensing Bella's depression. We get montages accompianed by gloomy alternative bands. We get 360 degree angles of her crying in her bedroom. Edward Cullen has left the building and this allows Taylor Lautner to take center stage with an engaging performance (also: werewolf abs).

Jacob as a character is wittier, manlier and much more charismatic. Even though he's doomed with the same drippy romantic dialogue, his delivery is more convincing than his vampire counterpart. Braden is on board with Team Jacob immediately. "I don't understand why Bella doesn't go for Jacob. He has a personality and is more practical." Not surprising that my DIY fiance would relate to the motorcycle fixing werewolf. Bella spends most of the movie with Jacob and he begins to fall for her, despite the fact that she still pines for Edward. "Stop toying with his emotions, Bella!" the fiance proclaims. Edward returns at some point (I don't remember why) and the vampire-werewolf smackdown begins. The brooding pretty boy vs. the charismatic everyman. And they both want the girl! They both want to save her. It's a crisis every girl dreams of. Right? But in the end, Bella wants the one that can make her immortal so they can be together. 4ever. So Edward ends the film by proposing to her. Now that's an eternity promise, kids!

After watching the two films, I still don't have vampire lust. Which makes sense considered I'm engaged to a Jacob: practical, handy and endearingly romantic. As for the werewolf abs, well, we're working towards it.

Shame on me. PAZZO!

I know I have not written in long time...longer than I can remember. There is a big part of me that doesn't like writing about my failures. I've recently discovered that I suffer many symptoms of Avoidance Disorder. Which is a hypersensitivity to criticism and rejection, self-imposed social isolation and extreme social anxiety in groups (yet a strong desire for close relationships). That's pretty much me all over. I was reading about it in Braden's textbook today. I keep looking for clues about eye contact and self-confidence and I think I am coming closer to figuring out the puzzle.

In any case, I think I may have been avoiding this blog for those reasons. Shame for becoming a sellout? Shame for not being as successful in my singing and acting as my peers?

It's not like I haven't been doing shows. I did Dearly Departed and South Pacific in April and May...pretty much 10 weeks straight. And then every thing just stopped. I have been auditioning here and there. And I had some good auditions...but nothing really happened. But really my heart hasn't been in it recently. There has been so much going on.

My field representative job takes up about 90% of my energy and I just can't devote the time to preparing auditions like I used to. But I still take voice lessons. I had a recital at the end of May. I got the final slot. It was an honor. Right now I'm still preparing audition pieces. It's exciting - Rebecca, my voice teacher is excited for me! I'm excited for me. I'm about to embark on a wonderful life adventure and I'm not doing it alone...

...Braden and I got engaged. It was very romantic. He proposed at dusk on Cumberland Island after we had gone for a swim after a 6 mile hike. And then wild horses came out to greet us. A good omen, I presume. And we have a wedding venue and a date MAY 21st 2011! We are getting married at the historical Horace Williams house in Chapel Hill. It just fits considering we are Chapel Hill natives and we love this town. Our color scheme is red and black. Actually wedding planning has become a lot more fun now that we have some concrete details set in stone.

So I'm going to be a wife. And it's to a man I love who keeps me sane and makes me smile and every day I adore coming home to him. He wants a family and a house and wife and I want to be that for him.

Dormire!!

I just have to say that while fulfilling and prosperous...my job is really exhausting. This whole wake up at 6am get home at 7pm or later thing is KILLING ME. And my voice. I barely have the energy to sing above the staff, so I usually just mark. How I'm ever going to master "Glitter and be Gay" on this schedule is beyond me.

Make money to make time for the things you love...

In the meantime, the great mezzo, Cecilia Bartoli as Despina.

What me worry?

Why are you so anxious?

Ah. Well that's really the billion dollar question, isn't it? Today it was asked by a very cool gentleman who runs a Thai kickboxing gym, from a new account I opened for my new sales job (more on that later).

If you're an actress, shouldn't you be relaxed?

Oh, I wish. I ask myself all the time why I'm this way. Why can't I just relax and be like everyone else? Is it genetic? Am I supposed to be so tightly wound because DNA makes me that way? Is because I always hold myself up to the highest standards? I want to succeed so badly in everything I pursue...is it that drive for life and success that make me soar into a tailspin? I don't want to be anxious. In my heart of hearts, I want to interact with people like I interact with Braden and not be on edge. I don't want to be the odd, shy girl that I was in college, which was a stereotype until I graduated.

Fear of failure? Fear of loneliness? Fear of...WHAT?!?!

So these are the cards I'm dealt. Every day I deal with it.

Voice lessons were MUCH better this week. I felt like I wasn't fighting the exercises for once. Everything just started to come in bits and pieces. The height, the roundness of the vowels, the Italian diction, even the dreaded whistle register. I am going to have to practice my butt off this week and make myself be diligent. It has been hard when I've been waking up at 6:30am and focusing on my new job as Field Rep.

Last weekend, Rebecca gave me all this stern advice about what I have to do to get into grad school and how I am sort of at a disadvantage being away from the opera world in NC. It's true...there aren't as many classical opportunities here. And despite the fact that I keep having good auditions, I can't seem to land a role. (Does my personal anxiety factor into all this?? I don't know!) She suggested I go to a summer program, but those cost money and I just can't get up and leave. And how grad school in New York would be simply paying for lessons, coaching and rent. And that's all I'd be doing. And it wouldn't be glamorous and it would be hard and OF COURSE I KNOW THAT. It's hard enough working full-time here. And I have Braden. And being with here with Braden, having him as my support system, is SO important to me.

I went to Memphis for UPTA, the big professional auditions. I sang and did my monologue fine. I did not get a single callback. It's not like I cried or anything, but I can tell you that being the only one in the shuttle riding from the callback space to the theater in the pouring cold rain is a pretty shitty feeling. 

BUT, there's more: they  grade the auditioners. If companies think they are not professional and talented enough to attend, they can be flagged and asked not to come back. I did NOT get flagged. So basically I am professional and talented...but no one wants to hire me. It's a real mindfuck. All sorts of things go through my head; "Is it my weight? My song? My hair? My voice? My speaking voice? My reputation?" Yes it's a lot of people saying NO, but at the end of the day, I just had to fly home and continue my job here. No running off around the country for some theater career.

As for opera, I am loving "In Uomini...", more so than "Kommt". I keep watching that video and noticing all my mistakes. God, I was so under-rehearsed. It makes me mad. I've always had trouble watching myself and at least now I know to practice more more MORE. I know I was decent, but I should have been better. I know, still too hard on myself.

So all these feelings and advantages and disadvantages seem to weave their way into my job as an office supply sales rep. I don't want to say too much because I don't want to get fired. HA. It's challenging, to say the least. It's nearly all on commission and you have to work your ass off to earn that salary position. And it's all numbers...sometimes I can work all day and not make a sale and I feel like shit. Because it's not based on merit, it's based on $$$. There are other days where it feels like a breeze. But my drive and work ethic from theater work to my advantage...and unfortunately cold calling certainly plays on my anxiety disadvantage. 

I'm learning to accept life for what it is; not a roadmap to a dream...but a journey. The journey is so cyclical and intertwined

Marry Him -- because you love him and he's worth it!!

http://www.newsweek.com/id/233381

There's a book out that I read on the plane back from Memphis called "Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough" by Lori Gottlieb. Basically the synopsis is as follows:

"Expanding on her 2008 Atlantic essay , Gottlieb, a 42-year-old mother who's never been married, says that young women today—herself a prime example—are too willing to give up a guy who's an 8 in search of a 10, only to find themselves middle-aged, alone, and no longer able to attract even a 6. Better, she argues, to settle for the kind, loyal guy with some flaws when you're still young enough to snag 'em."


In the book, Ms. Gottlieb goes on to whine about how at 41, single with a sperm-donor child, she has yet to find a husband and so do so many other "perfectionist" women. Excuse me, but when was the ultimate goal to find someone with movie star looks, a Plantinum credit card who will constantly dote on us financially, emotionally and sexually? Aren't you supposed to find someone that...um, LOVES YOU? 

So she goes on to interview women that have dumped various men because they were "not into the exact same interests" or "wasn't that fashionable", "had facial hair". So accepting these things about someone who cares about you and loves you is SETTLING? Because he's not a clone of Brad Pitt...it's settling? I understand that as single women who have been dumped or dumped in the past, we often make lists on what we want in a partner, aka "shopping at the Husband Store". I made a list. There are 20 "wants". Lucky for me, Braden fits 18 of them. But as many as you know, Braden is completely ideologically and aesthetically different than me in SO MANY ways. Had I had written him off due to his ever growing collection of computer parts, raw building materials and flea market-meets-junkyard decor...or his interesting (when we first started dating, his VERY UNIQUE) facial hair, well I would have missed out on the most sincere, loving, giving man I have ever met.

And it goes both ways: he could have just have easily shunned me for my creative lifestyle or the fact that I leave cabinets open all over the house. I KNOW I'm not perfect...sure Hotornot rates me an 8.2 (whoo!) but does that give me the right to dump a guy because he doesn't have an Ivy League degree or a million facebook friends (answer: no.)

A passage that grates on me the most was that in her 20s the author dumped a guy who was "cute, funny, ambitious BUT into sci-fi," and this was considered acceptable by her peers. So he liked Star Wars or Firefly...what guy doesn't? Oooo...he's different than your ideal fantasy man. DEALBREAKER!! NEXT!! Who are these women and when did this become the acceptable post-20th century feminist status quo?

Clearly if someone isn't meeting your core value needs, like being a good father or husband, or has a job and desires to provide for you and him...okay, move on to the next one. But don't just turn someone off because they wear a bow-tie (like the author initally does.)

It just goes to show that self-absorption and superficiality will, more often than not, leave you all by your lonesome, ladies. He's not Brad Pitt, but you aren't Angelina either. We all deserved to be loved...so find someone worth loving and trusting who's sincere and ambitious and embraces you, flaws and all as a partner...just as you embrace them. Entitlement to a fantasy is a one-way ticket to cat lady town.

Sometimes sincerity and mutual love and core values make the RELATIONSHIP a 10.

Bambino?

I've been scanning through blogs looking for ones I might be interested in following. I've noticed that the majority of them are about families and raising kids. Some of my best friends and aquaintances are starting families. It's alarming how life jumps from graduating college to badaboom IT'S A FETUS! I always thought I wanted to have kids by 25 but now that I've been living on my own with Braden and taking care of Bax, I've realized that I've got quite a lot of growing up to do before creating a new life. I always wanted to be one of those young, pleasant moms...though it startles me when I see moms with 3 year olds in Hallmark who are younger than me.

So should Braden and I get married, we've agreed on this. NO MORE THAN 2. (this comment frequently comes out when we're drunk.) And I'm aiming for 29 1/2 years old. That gives me a little over 5 years to get my act together...whatever that may be.

Pregnancy does fascinate me though. I definitely have a ticking biological clock. I think I'd rather enjoy it. I've always had a weird fascination with how the body works, even the gross stuff. This probably explains why I enjoying grooming Braden and popping his blackheads on a regular basis. I know, that's disgusting but there's something so soothing about.

In any case, check out my friend Amy's journey into motherhood: http://realhousewifeofraleigh.blogspot.com/ As it turns out, I'm quoted in today's title. Hooray for blog fame!

Bravissima

I figure we go back to my "Viva la Not-So-Diva" roots. It's been a strange, emotionally exhausting weekend.

Friday 2pm I had a blowout with my boss at Hallmark about how I've been apathetic and vacant. Which is true. I've been completely depressed this month and kind of hating everything in my life. And then she suggested I should be fired and should only work seasonly so I left.

6pm - I get a phone call being offered a job at a marketing firm that I am slightly apprehensive about because it mostly based on commissions and I have to get up at 6:30am every day and drive to Raleigh. But it is full time and there is a chance I can make a decent amount of cash.

8pm - Recital. We can't figure how to get the camera to work...I'm a mess with the accompianiment. But vocally I sound fine (if a little too bright) And I never freaking know what do with my hands when I'm not moving them. I make wings. It looks strange. But my parents and the old people love it. I get the most applause out of everyone. This one old lady of Eastern European descent says "I sing beautiful and look sexy." Nice. Braden has to work at the last minute and can't make it, which is probably for the best because he watches it later uncomfortably and makes fun of my expressions.

Which I wasn't really expecting him to LAUGH. Smile maybe, but not smirk. Maybe a "wow, you sound really good." or "you look beautiful." But he just kind of laughs through the whole thing and I don't know what to do so I just laugh along, kind of like at Christmas when my cousins started making fun of me at the dinner table about Sean and our engagement and all the horrible things that happened. As if that was the appropriate dinner conversation. How steamingly uncomfortable I was, but I played along and shared the same goofy embarrassing, revolting anecdotes.

Saturday 12am - We go to The Station and they are playing Soul & old school Beach music which I love. I convince Braden to dance with me and have massive amounts of fun. I was on a high from the recital, so I even got up the urge to talk to people. STRANGERS! I KNOW, RIGHT? I may have made a friend. I must say, having Bax with us is wonderful ice breaker because everybody likes a puppy. It's like that commercial where single men rent puppies to meet women. Guess what? It works! We dance some more (I request Sam Cooke's "You Send Me", but no dice. Those DJs never play requests...probably because they have a premade Ipod shuffle playlist. The art of the DJ has clearly been simplified over the past decade.) We both get very drunk. Blue moons for everyone!

2:00am - He gets sick of dancing like he alway does so I ask if he minds if I dance with other people. He doesn't mind and hey I'm feeling very pretty and social for once. So a lot of men want to dance with me. Braden disappears so I guess most of them assume I'm single. And this guy starts following me around, getting the wrong idea...following to my car...to go hang out at our apartment. He's confused and I'm not sober enough to explain my boyfriend is IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW. PISSED OFF. So we have a stupid drunk fight where he ignores me and I keep yelling and then at some point we embrace and have sex and then just pass out.

10am - We wake up hungover and have breakfast together. It's uncomfortable.

All of these rollercoaster emotions over the past 24 hours...too much. I know it's gonna get better and level out eventually...but it's really been too much drama for me to handle. I am so ready to put January 2010 past me.

But you just came here for the recital video. Okay, here you go!

One more day

Another day, another rejection. And a notice from a scam company. The "you pay us $400, you make six figures...!" No. So very fulfilling. It's really hard to get up in the morning. I got up at 9:30am...responded to some emails and phone calls and found myself just wanting to lay down again. Baby steps. Tomorrow I vow to get up and not go to back to bed. I know, I'm such a drama queen, but...

It's really hard. I wish I had something better way of describing it. And it's tearing Braden and I apart. Mostly because of me and my depression.

Right now, in voice, I'm working in "In Uomini, In Soldati" from Cosi Fan Tutte by Mozert. Another one of the delightful maid roles that I so specialize in, Despina.

My performance goal is...have 5 arias prepared and ready to go by June.

I like this...fun, accurate acting. Actually, I like this more than the arias that are all "oh I'm in love. you are the birds and trees and wind. I'm so dramatic, I'm in love."

Is La Vie Boheme really all it's cracked up to be?

Being a starving artist is so glamorized...is it really all what the great composers and film makers made it out to be? I don't think it's all that much fun, especially at the moment where I can barely afford groceries and don't feel like much of an artist. And I followed a boy to Carrboro. A boy who could care less about music theatre and lyric sopranos and Astoria and apartments and voice lessons and fighting for an impossible dream in the big city. But someone who fell in love with ME all the same.

I had hoped that when I moved here, I would find full-time work and I could save money. I live rather modestly if I have to...just take voice lessons and piano lessons. But then my $3000 savings dried up and there's still no temp job to be found. And at this point, I'm just floundering. I can no longer afford piano lessons (or even a PIANO...I learn on a little Yamaha keyboard and sneak on to pianos where ever I am.) or voice lessons. And all the professionals in my life keep telling me to move. And I knew, I KNEW from the minute I met Braden that he could never coexist with my dreams. Despite the fact that he romanticized following me somewhere. From the minute I saw this man build things out of junk in our backyard,  I realized "Okay...maybe if I want to be with him, I need to find a way to work around this New York, big city actor-singer thing."

I don't have a job there. I'm not the kind of person that can just up and move to somewhere like that. Not in this climate. I don't trust myself or the world. I've had the following fantasy proposals: a) get into grad school at Manhattan School of Music and b) get decent job and move there. But I can't even get a job here...

I had a major blow today. I was considered for an fantastic opportunity at an IT staffing firm in Raleigh as an account manager. The money was good, the job appealing and flexible with growth and promotion opportunities. And it didn't happen. I don't know why I get my hopes for shit like that. It makes me feel like I'm a fucking performing arts failure and now I can't even find a good job to support myself. I know that's drudging the bottom of the barrel, but that's my gut reaction.

But we're just gonna have to figure it out.

The Ingenue

Umm...when did I land into the ingenue catagory? Have I been hiding behind this character facade my entire time. Maybe I was just living in this vacuum of 18-23 year old with effortlessly beautiful hair and naturally sunny light demeanors. But now I'm in a much larger pool of people and youth is on my side. And my light sunny voice, which conflicts with my not-so-light and sunny demeanor.

I realized tonight that I don't always feel comfortable in my own body. Rebecca says I always look like I want to fly out of mine. I think that's true...I always want to be someone else, someone more secure, more successful, more wealthy, more at ease.

I am hopelessly depressed in Carrboro. And I feel bad that I'm depressed because we've built a nice household here. It's like I come home and I don't even know where I am or why I'm there. And there are mornings where I don't want to do anything, but then I feel guilty about that.

I want New York so bad but I have no idea how to get there with Braden. In fact, I don't think I'll ever get there with Braden. I have to make this choice, and I guess that's what people do. I know he wouldn't be happy there. I don't even know if he can find a job there...hell, I don't even know what I can do. And I feel like that's wrong, that it's wrong for me to want to move and pursue my masters, when I've been graced with such a wonderful relationship here. And suddenly this blog became about my life and my depression, and I wanted to avoid that, but here we are.

My studio recital is in two weeks. I will be singing "Kommt ein schlanker Bursch gegangen" and "O del mio dolce ardor". My B is still funny when I'm singing German...I don't understand the concept of whistle register and I am out of shape from being so damn busy over Christmas and barely having any time to practice. But it sounded much more polished today I will admit then it did 3 weeks.

I want to relax. I DO. It's hard when you have no money.

As for 2010, I don't know what to do. Rebecca says go to NY. Everyone says that, if I want a career go to NY. And I was going to. Then I fell in love. Was I wrong to stay??

Next post: GOALS. I will make goals for '10. You can't succeed if you don't have goals.