Yesterday I was on this website called "reddit" for a few hours. For
those of you reading this that don't know what reddit is, it's
basically a forum sort of deal where people discuss topics about almost
anything. They have memes, lost of pictures to look through, world news
topics, video game discussions, politics, etc. My favorite part of the
site is called, "Ask Me Anything" where people from all sorts of
situations, careers, events will post about who they are and you can ask
them questions. Comedians, doctors, people that witnessed an event we
all know about -- I don't know, just go check it out if you're curious.
The
website is set up in a way that looks fairly low-quality, it's mostly
just a simple thread on every page, which is good because to me that
says that the content is more important than the look. The top of the
page has tabs where you can click on topics, and I was exploring various
things on the site when I realized that one of the main tabs for
clicking on the site is just simply: ATHEISM.
I
looked at that title for a good 30 seconds, pondering if I should click
or not. As a Christian, I have an issue with the topic, because I have
not always encountered atheists that were considerate of other people's
feelings when they expressed that they believe in a higher power. I
was predicting pictures making fun of religious people and a lot of
people praising Richard Dawkins' douchebaggery. I decided to click it
anyway, when I came upon a topic that read:
"Hello
reddit, I'm a christian mother and my son just told me he is atheist.
I'm not against him but being atheist but It is difficult for me to
accept. I thought you guys might be able to at least help me accept this
a little or show me some valid reasons for his choice."
In case anyone wants to read the comments, I left that quote as a link.
So,
my first reaction was a general feeling of sadness. I felt sad for the
mother that it must hurt that her child doesn't hold the same beliefs
that she has held almost her entire life. I felt sad about how her son
must have felt that he had to go to his parents and possibly feel as
though he would be a disappointment. I felt sad that this family may
fight about this issue for years.
What was surprising to
me, were the reactions from other Atheists. Most of them were pretty
nice about it, although there was still a sense of "I know more than
you, let me enlighten you away from being enlightened from religion".
Then there were the Atheists that were very condescending, along with
other Christians that were equally zealous and lecture-y. I actually
started to cry, reading all the responses and seeing people go back and
forth, so far to the right or left or the argument. The whole idea of
Atheists and Christians or Jews or other religious people being at this
giant standoff about one of the most important decisions of their lives,
(that being whether they believe in God, even though some people don't
consider it that important or they just don't care either way) it was
truly and severely stressing me out!
Of course I had to leave a reply, although I have no idea if she had read it. It essentially consisted of, "Hey,
coming from another Christian you just have to love your son and don't
let him feel any resentment from your end. He's 16, maybe in another
year he'll decide he's Jewish or whatever. You should encourage him to
read some books on other religions and try to approach things as an
agnostic and see what he gets out of it. He hasn't even been to college
yet, it's not too late for him to make some sort of other decision. As long as you're a good mother, he'll still turn out to be a good person. Praying for your family to have peace during this time of tension and stress."
I
have left churches in the past because I wasn't considered, "Christian
enough" for them. About a year ago I was told that because I hadn't
been in a bible study every week and sitting in a pew every single
Sunday, and making friends with women in the church to "lead me in the
right direction", that I was not allowed to participate in the worship
band on Sundays and sing. I know that I've lost friends because I
wasn't Christian enough for them. Even if they wouldn't admit that it's
why we lost touch, it was an underlying feeling that was had when we
would talk about personal choices and friendships with other people
etc., where I just knew that they were semi-judging me. It even made me
consider whether we were really friends in the first place, or I was
just a member of the club and they were nice to me until they had me
figured out as, "less than" the standard they were taught to follow.
I
would never let these circumstances affect my belief in God, Jesus,
spirituality, meditation, or any of that. I swear, I drink with my
friends, I have a boyfriend that is not what those friends would call a
Christian, but I have been told on many occasions that people still
notice something different about me. People have asked me if I was a
Christian without ever knowing if I went to church and I hadn't said a
thing, solely based on my attitude and mannerisms, which is very
surprising. Maybe it's a maturity thing, maybe it's God shining a light
of general positivity through me, I can't explain what it might be.
There
has to be something to at least the belief in a higher power, even if
that only means that there's a scientific connection between feeling
balanced spiritually and being a genuinely happy person so it shows to
other people. Is being "enlightened" just a feeling of balance? Just
as people that believe in a Creator and it balances them, I guess people
that believe in nothing find balance somehow but I don't really know
what that is since it's not usually something that Atheists or Agnostics
talk about.
When most people think of "Christians" if
they are not one, a lot of the time they think of Republicans,
anti-choice picketers, gay-haters and general nonacceptance of
non-Christians. But that's not me. I go to church with gay people, and
I'm a liberal Democrat, but I pray every night before I go to bed. All
this, and a lot of the time I just feel like a bit of a loner when it
comes to my personal beliefs. Sure, my mother and my aunt and a few of
my friends are in the same boat as me. We all just say, "Hey believe what you want, and leave other people alone, let's all have freedom and choice and balance." But other people don't like that "feel-good-Joel-Osteen-Jesus" approach to life. They all have to be right.
I'm
ashamed of either side most of the time, for being so against each
other. Maybe I should get one of those hippie-style "CoExist" bumper
stickers. I get so upset with Atheists for thinking they have
everything figured out, and with zealots of any religion for going
against the principles of their beliefs when they don't accept others
and they're judgmental. Heck, I could be wrong with my "let's all just
get along and let people do what they want" approach. Maybe there's
nothing out there. Or maybe being gay is wrong (I highly doubt that one
though!) Am I going to go to hell for just trying to see the bright
side of things and bring us all together?
Years ago,
when I decided I was a Christian, I still stuck to my guns and I didn't
take everything the bible said in the Old Testament as my motto for
life. I still studied Judaism, explored, prayed, meditated, and tried
my darndest to keep a connection with God to make sure that I knew He
was there for me. Maybe I'm nuts and it's all in my head, but I've said
it before and I'll say it again,
I would rather live the rest of my life believing in something that quite possibly isn't there, than to die and find out that there is.
Stop acting like you know everything, when you probably know nothing.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
What happened to Christmas? You blink and then it's over.
So Christmas is over. I spent two days running around like a crazy person because I have two families, (three if you count my boyfriend's since we went there yesterday as well) and I feel like all I got out of it was a million pairs of socks and a broken break line in my mother's car. (If you're wondering, then yes I almost died on the Pike this afternoon because the pedal wasn't working. Great day following a fantastic morning.)
Where did the quality time with family go? Every place I went it I was just starting to get comfortable and more people would show up excited to see me, and then I had to leave again. My little cousin wanted to snuggle with me on the couch in her little pink boots and it was for all of 5 minutes until I had to put her down and get my stuff together. I saw my dad for a few minutes of small talk and hugs and felt rushed and overwhelmed. Walking into my mother's was like walking into a dorm room party, too many people walking over each other and too much stuff in the smallest space possible.
Where was Jesus this year on His birthday? I went to church, but it felt like it was 30 seconds long and for some reason instead of packed from altar to doorway, this year the place was more than half empty. The sermon was really meaningful and I started getting a little homesick sitting there, happy that I could share this place that was such a big part of my teen years with my boyfriend and some friends. But why didn't people show up? Not to mention that no one said Grace at one meal I was partaking in, the entire two days. Yeah ok, the whole family isn't incredibly religious, but can't we show respect that it's The Lord's birthday and just pretend for 30 seconds that we give a crap over more than presents?
Is everyone tired this year? Did the stress get to more people than just me? I'm usually sad that Christmas is over in a normal way, but I'm horribly disappointed this year. I felt rushed, uncomfortable, I was fighting with my boyfriend for going on 3 days now, and everyone keeps telling me, "Oh it's ok now, it's all over. No need to stress out anymore" I DIDN'T WANT IT TO BE OVER!! Can someone please understand this? I love Christmas. I love stockings, lights, trees, Christmas movies and specials, carols, presents, and being with my family even if other people hate it. All these Christmas movies about people hating their family... I get it because it's funny, but honestly is everyone's house like that?
No. Most people don't have a huge issue with being at home and having some cocktails with funny uncles and spoiling your sister's kids because they're not yours. But did I get to have quality time? I had a panic attack on Christmas Eve with all my running around, and my Christmas Day I looked at the clock at almost 9pm and was incredibly upset that it was already over and my boyfriend and I were still in a fucking fight since apologies apparently don't translate well via text. For the record, I had fun drinking wine and socializing. However, the general uneasiness of others and having to leave places the second I got there was making me miserable.
You know what? I'm still home. My Christmas tree is still lit, and our stockings are still hung. I still have friends to see, and I'm watching Christmas movies right now. You know why? Because my Christmas isn't fucking over. In fact, when I see my friends tonight I think I will tell them that we are having "Navidad Parte Dos" and I don't want anyone arguing with me about it. It's not over until the fat lady sings at midnight on New Years Eve so there. I don't care how grumpy everyone else chooses to be around the holidays, and I'm sick and tired of hearing how much other people hate their families and referring to the most wonderful time of the year as a "let's just get through this" ordeal. I want to have fun and believe you me, I will.
Where did the quality time with family go? Every place I went it I was just starting to get comfortable and more people would show up excited to see me, and then I had to leave again. My little cousin wanted to snuggle with me on the couch in her little pink boots and it was for all of 5 minutes until I had to put her down and get my stuff together. I saw my dad for a few minutes of small talk and hugs and felt rushed and overwhelmed. Walking into my mother's was like walking into a dorm room party, too many people walking over each other and too much stuff in the smallest space possible.
Where was Jesus this year on His birthday? I went to church, but it felt like it was 30 seconds long and for some reason instead of packed from altar to doorway, this year the place was more than half empty. The sermon was really meaningful and I started getting a little homesick sitting there, happy that I could share this place that was such a big part of my teen years with my boyfriend and some friends. But why didn't people show up? Not to mention that no one said Grace at one meal I was partaking in, the entire two days. Yeah ok, the whole family isn't incredibly religious, but can't we show respect that it's The Lord's birthday and just pretend for 30 seconds that we give a crap over more than presents?
Is everyone tired this year? Did the stress get to more people than just me? I'm usually sad that Christmas is over in a normal way, but I'm horribly disappointed this year. I felt rushed, uncomfortable, I was fighting with my boyfriend for going on 3 days now, and everyone keeps telling me, "Oh it's ok now, it's all over. No need to stress out anymore" I DIDN'T WANT IT TO BE OVER!! Can someone please understand this? I love Christmas. I love stockings, lights, trees, Christmas movies and specials, carols, presents, and being with my family even if other people hate it. All these Christmas movies about people hating their family... I get it because it's funny, but honestly is everyone's house like that?
No. Most people don't have a huge issue with being at home and having some cocktails with funny uncles and spoiling your sister's kids because they're not yours. But did I get to have quality time? I had a panic attack on Christmas Eve with all my running around, and my Christmas Day I looked at the clock at almost 9pm and was incredibly upset that it was already over and my boyfriend and I were still in a fucking fight since apologies apparently don't translate well via text. For the record, I had fun drinking wine and socializing. However, the general uneasiness of others and having to leave places the second I got there was making me miserable.
You know what? I'm still home. My Christmas tree is still lit, and our stockings are still hung. I still have friends to see, and I'm watching Christmas movies right now. You know why? Because my Christmas isn't fucking over. In fact, when I see my friends tonight I think I will tell them that we are having "Navidad Parte Dos" and I don't want anyone arguing with me about it. It's not over until the fat lady sings at midnight on New Years Eve so there. I don't care how grumpy everyone else chooses to be around the holidays, and I'm sick and tired of hearing how much other people hate their families and referring to the most wonderful time of the year as a "let's just get through this" ordeal. I want to have fun and believe you me, I will.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
oh christmas tree, oh christmas tree, why are you so depressing?
So it's December 1st. It's a Saturday, and yet again I feel like I'm doing nothing with my life. What did I do today realistically? I filmed the finishing touches for a horror movie (my first full length film I've had a real role in) then I came home and did some research for my next youtube video I'm doing this week, and went out to a comedy show to see some of my friends. And yet, here I am all of a sudden massively feeling as though I made a huge mistake in what I just typed and really accomplished nothing today.
Also I feel like an asshole because I was invited to a party tonight and forgot, but I have a fairly annoying head cold at the moment and probably would've drank myself into a really bad head cold if I had remembered, but that doesn't make me feel any less like a jerk and like I missed out on a lot of fun tonight...ugh.
I have a problem with feeling satisfied with myself. I know everyone says that, but it's really true for me. Do I make enough money? Enough to get by, but I'm still considered poor. Am I an actor for a living? Yes, but I want to be in Hollywood. Isn't my favorite time of the year Christmastime? Of course, and somehow I feel awfully depressed at the same time every year. So what's the issue here? Like the saying goes, IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD, KID!
Right now, I'm sitting in my diningroom, thinking about how much of a failure my day was because I didn't record my youtube video. Staring at my lit up Christmas tree as my only source of light aside from my computer screen, and trying not to kick myself over not doing it. Instead, I got lost in watching other youtube videos whilst researching for mine, and my cold made me feel gross so I lost interest in recording for the day. Will I still get my video out by Tuesday night? Well I really hope so, I need to stay committed to this unlike all my other failed endeavors, like learning to play guitar beyond simple chords and knitting something better than a scarf.
Sometimes I feel like this blog is also a failed endeavor. I don't want a vast audience, no that's not it, but I wish I posted more often than once in a blue moon, but I never want to post when I'm happy. Why the hell am I so happy all the time that I can't be creative anymore? I almost stopped writing music altogether after I met my boyfriend about a year ago, one song all year and I'm another failed guitar player who fucked around with it in college like every other emo kid with a broken heart and a notepad. Instead I post funny pictures of babies on instagram and I'm skinnier than I've been in years because I stopped drinking away my feelings. Thank God my comedy isn't self-deprecating, otherwise I'd stop being funny too!
I should be excited about Christmas. I am, I mean I'm excited about it every time that I buy someone else a gift, and I'm excited about seeing my family and the next three weeks of holiday cheer. I'm even excited about snowy days now that we're probably having a normal winter this year. But I'm sad today. Can I be sad today? What right do I have to be sad? I'm such a brat complaining about my life the way that it is. But I felt stagnant this afternoon, like I wasn't able to do anything exciting with my entire life because it was all weighing on the lonely and lazy afternoon I had.
Christmas has always been connected with loneliness for me, and I can't seem to figure out why. Maybe because my teen years were always boyfriendless and I never got a puppy from Santa like my mom predicted. I think I posted about this last year, really I should be praying and thanking Jesus for this wonderful time of year, but instead I listen to Frank Sinatra's Christmas album and try not to tear up. My boyfriend loves me and I don't know if I have all the time for a puppy that I should. Yet here we are, India Pearl all sad and staring at her Christmas tree no matter how beautiful it is she can't love it for being so beautiful. It's taunting me, and luring me into old habits of morbid reflection. Why did we put you up so soon, you twinkling plastic statue of sadness? Can't you go away until the 24th? I think you'd be better appreciated at a Macy's.
The problem with me is that I have a major issue with being by myself. I don't necessarily mean relationship-wise, but any time at all. If I'm alone at home for too long, I start to stare at the wall and make up things to be sad about. I'll remember friends that I fought with and no longer speak to, or rehearse fights over in my head with my boyfriend from months ago and make up different parts of the conversation that I should've said differently and how I failed somehow, or I'll even think about a fight I had with my mother as a teenager and start to wonder how I could've yelled something to win a scrap with her.
One time I delved so deeply into my past anxieties, that I couldn't stop replaying an event that happened in my neighborhood when I was 7, with a girl who wouldn't stop picking on me and I started screaming in her face when she slapped me in front of everyone around us. My mother saw the whole thing from the window and came to rescue me, told the girl's mother what happened, but the girl's white trash toothless idiot mother didn't give a crap! She told my mother I should go play somewhere else and she shrugged her shoulders. Even typing this out makes me want to scream at her for being so unjust. If I had been the slapper, my mother would've spanked my fanny until it was raw (not literally, just one of her beloved phrases to show how brutal it could've been if she had in fact ever raised her hand to our fannies. It was a very rare occasion that myself or my sisters' fannies were spanked). Ugh, I just want to punch that little girl and her mother in the face.
My point is, I can already feel myself slipping away into this depressing, past-depending behavior... and it's only December 1st!! My season at the museum ended a month ago, it took me two weeks of relaxing to push my reset button and two weeks more to realize that the effects of change can only make me happy for so long. For those of you who actively read my blog, you may notice that when I move somewhere or start something very new, it brings me great happiness... and then after about a month I start to realize that the feeling is only temporary, and I'm still very much insane.
I should've written a much funnier post about my high school reunion. Maybe next week.
Also I feel like an asshole because I was invited to a party tonight and forgot, but I have a fairly annoying head cold at the moment and probably would've drank myself into a really bad head cold if I had remembered, but that doesn't make me feel any less like a jerk and like I missed out on a lot of fun tonight...ugh.
I have a problem with feeling satisfied with myself. I know everyone says that, but it's really true for me. Do I make enough money? Enough to get by, but I'm still considered poor. Am I an actor for a living? Yes, but I want to be in Hollywood. Isn't my favorite time of the year Christmastime? Of course, and somehow I feel awfully depressed at the same time every year. So what's the issue here? Like the saying goes, IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD, KID!
Right now, I'm sitting in my diningroom, thinking about how much of a failure my day was because I didn't record my youtube video. Staring at my lit up Christmas tree as my only source of light aside from my computer screen, and trying not to kick myself over not doing it. Instead, I got lost in watching other youtube videos whilst researching for mine, and my cold made me feel gross so I lost interest in recording for the day. Will I still get my video out by Tuesday night? Well I really hope so, I need to stay committed to this unlike all my other failed endeavors, like learning to play guitar beyond simple chords and knitting something better than a scarf.
Sometimes I feel like this blog is also a failed endeavor. I don't want a vast audience, no that's not it, but I wish I posted more often than once in a blue moon, but I never want to post when I'm happy. Why the hell am I so happy all the time that I can't be creative anymore? I almost stopped writing music altogether after I met my boyfriend about a year ago, one song all year and I'm another failed guitar player who fucked around with it in college like every other emo kid with a broken heart and a notepad. Instead I post funny pictures of babies on instagram and I'm skinnier than I've been in years because I stopped drinking away my feelings. Thank God my comedy isn't self-deprecating, otherwise I'd stop being funny too!
I should be excited about Christmas. I am, I mean I'm excited about it every time that I buy someone else a gift, and I'm excited about seeing my family and the next three weeks of holiday cheer. I'm even excited about snowy days now that we're probably having a normal winter this year. But I'm sad today. Can I be sad today? What right do I have to be sad? I'm such a brat complaining about my life the way that it is. But I felt stagnant this afternoon, like I wasn't able to do anything exciting with my entire life because it was all weighing on the lonely and lazy afternoon I had.
Christmas has always been connected with loneliness for me, and I can't seem to figure out why. Maybe because my teen years were always boyfriendless and I never got a puppy from Santa like my mom predicted. I think I posted about this last year, really I should be praying and thanking Jesus for this wonderful time of year, but instead I listen to Frank Sinatra's Christmas album and try not to tear up. My boyfriend loves me and I don't know if I have all the time for a puppy that I should. Yet here we are, India Pearl all sad and staring at her Christmas tree no matter how beautiful it is she can't love it for being so beautiful. It's taunting me, and luring me into old habits of morbid reflection. Why did we put you up so soon, you twinkling plastic statue of sadness? Can't you go away until the 24th? I think you'd be better appreciated at a Macy's.
The problem with me is that I have a major issue with being by myself. I don't necessarily mean relationship-wise, but any time at all. If I'm alone at home for too long, I start to stare at the wall and make up things to be sad about. I'll remember friends that I fought with and no longer speak to, or rehearse fights over in my head with my boyfriend from months ago and make up different parts of the conversation that I should've said differently and how I failed somehow, or I'll even think about a fight I had with my mother as a teenager and start to wonder how I could've yelled something to win a scrap with her.
One time I delved so deeply into my past anxieties, that I couldn't stop replaying an event that happened in my neighborhood when I was 7, with a girl who wouldn't stop picking on me and I started screaming in her face when she slapped me in front of everyone around us. My mother saw the whole thing from the window and came to rescue me, told the girl's mother what happened, but the girl's white trash toothless idiot mother didn't give a crap! She told my mother I should go play somewhere else and she shrugged her shoulders. Even typing this out makes me want to scream at her for being so unjust. If I had been the slapper, my mother would've spanked my fanny until it was raw (not literally, just one of her beloved phrases to show how brutal it could've been if she had in fact ever raised her hand to our fannies. It was a very rare occasion that myself or my sisters' fannies were spanked). Ugh, I just want to punch that little girl and her mother in the face.
My point is, I can already feel myself slipping away into this depressing, past-depending behavior... and it's only December 1st!! My season at the museum ended a month ago, it took me two weeks of relaxing to push my reset button and two weeks more to realize that the effects of change can only make me happy for so long. For those of you who actively read my blog, you may notice that when I move somewhere or start something very new, it brings me great happiness... and then after about a month I start to realize that the feeling is only temporary, and I'm still very much insane.
I should've written a much funnier post about my high school reunion. Maybe next week.
Friday, November 23, 2012
"Professional Viewing" and why I need to do more of that...
As an actor, I have slowly but surely gotten to the point over the past almost-year-and-a-half of living in the Boston area and being able to only depend on my work for a living. Of course this also means that I am a very frugal person and am constantly finding ways to save money. I would post a blog about the little things I do during the week to save, but I will save that for another time. Instead, today is one of those days where I was going through some receipts and thinking about taxes, how I spend on my career, and how this ties into the holidays coming up.
I have been kicking myself about not going to enough shows and seeing more plays should be on my agenda. I'm an actor, I should be watching other actors! But sometimes I just feel very unmotivated to do so, and my number one reason wasn't even directly in my mind, my boyfriend just said it perfectly and off-handed one night.
He said, "When I was just out of college, all my friends were in plays. And after a while, I had to stop going. I just couldn't sit through one more bad Shakespeare play."
So how true is that? Am I not going to things because I'm not confident that they'll be any good? Well, yes and no. I do agree with the Shakespeare part, it's really hard for me to go see those things because it's not often that even the best actors I know can probably rock Hamlet's socks off. And then there's the fact that most plays in Boston are between $15-$25 to go see. That's about what I spend per week on groceries, and I've been trying really hard to save money. However, one of my good actor friends has recently given me the best information: you can write off half of that ticket price under what is called, "Professional Viewing".
The idea that I can write off things for my job has been known for some time now, but what I didn't realize is what I can write off a lot more than I thought because I do freelance work and worked as an actor on paper at the museum. Here's a list of some other things I can write off on my taxes that I had no idea about:
1. half my cable bill (professional viewing)
2. internet bill/phone bill (emailing and calls is how I have to communicate)
3. movie tickets (sometimes, moreso when I'm doing films for a more consistent living)
4. MAKEUP (I need it for shows)
5. gym membership (actors have to be fit most of the time)
6. transportation (certain percentage of my subway passes)
7. manicures/pedicures
8. dental visits/teeth whitener
9. costume pieces I buy for myself
10. meals during a show, or when I have a work-related meeting
11. haircuts
The list goes on. Basically anything that I need to look good is under this list, it's incredible. But of course this brings me to my next point. I was wondering what I would do this year when family members asked me what I want for Christmas. Honestly, I am for want of nothing (to throw in an old phrase). However, I do need a few things. I don't feel comfortable asking for frivolous or material things that I can just go out and buy myself. My main goal is to ask for things I really do need, so that my family can feel as though they're supporting me being an adult, instead of supporting me being a brat at Christmastime. So I put together this list for viewing in a handy video I made for Santa Claus (and my family).
Of course there was one more thing that I didn't put into the video, but only because it's nothing that I truly need as much as new socks or a nice pan. I have been working with a dinner theater company called Mystery Cafe, and hope to work with a local company called Pastimes World. Pastimes sends actors in period costumes to corporate gigs and things similar to that, either by themselves or with other actors, in costume to do... well, pretty much anything such as mingling, talking in character, answering questions, singing, etc. The reason why I would like to do this is because it's so much fun to be in costume, and even more fun to be at these gigs. From my work in dinner theater and at the museum, I can tell you that people eat this shit up when they see someone in a colonial dress and they can go up and talk to them. It's like they get the feeling back of when they used to stand in line to see Santa at the mall as kids. But what's even better is when you become someone else and you see the sparkle in their eyes as you start to speak in an older tongue, talking as though John Hancock and Samuel Adams were real people that you might actually know, and the inner child of your audience comes out without their knowledge. So I'm asking that anyone who doesn't check something off the list from the movie (using scribbless - see details at the bottom of this post) and you still feel the need to get me a present, then the money I get this year will go towards a few dresses from this ebay store you can see by clicking the link below:
**VictorianChoice Ebay Store**
My favorite is this one ^
But from my friends and acquaintances who read this blog, I don't really want anything from you aside from Christmas cheer, and for you to come to my Christmas party. The best way to celebrate the holidays is with family and friends, yummy food and some tasty adult beverages. I am for want of nothing, as I have money to pay my rent, feed myself, and participate in the occasional frivolities of being 20-something. Happy Holidays everyone, and God Bless you.
**Any family members who were directed to this blog post and are attempting to see my Christmas wish list, please email me or message me your email address. I have a checklist on a website called "Scribbless" that I will invite people to, so they can check something off if they bought it already. You have to be invited via email to look at the list and edit the list. This is to prevent from getting the same thing two or three times over. If you need help explaining how to do this, I can attempt to walk you through it but step 1 is to confirm that you want to be invited so you do not delete the email that scribbless sends you.**
I have been kicking myself about not going to enough shows and seeing more plays should be on my agenda. I'm an actor, I should be watching other actors! But sometimes I just feel very unmotivated to do so, and my number one reason wasn't even directly in my mind, my boyfriend just said it perfectly and off-handed one night.
He said, "When I was just out of college, all my friends were in plays. And after a while, I had to stop going. I just couldn't sit through one more bad Shakespeare play."
So how true is that? Am I not going to things because I'm not confident that they'll be any good? Well, yes and no. I do agree with the Shakespeare part, it's really hard for me to go see those things because it's not often that even the best actors I know can probably rock Hamlet's socks off. And then there's the fact that most plays in Boston are between $15-$25 to go see. That's about what I spend per week on groceries, and I've been trying really hard to save money. However, one of my good actor friends has recently given me the best information: you can write off half of that ticket price under what is called, "Professional Viewing".
The idea that I can write off things for my job has been known for some time now, but what I didn't realize is what I can write off a lot more than I thought because I do freelance work and worked as an actor on paper at the museum. Here's a list of some other things I can write off on my taxes that I had no idea about:
1. half my cable bill (professional viewing)
2. internet bill/phone bill (emailing and calls is how I have to communicate)
3. movie tickets (sometimes, moreso when I'm doing films for a more consistent living)
4. MAKEUP (I need it for shows)
5. gym membership (actors have to be fit most of the time)
6. transportation (certain percentage of my subway passes)
7. manicures/pedicures
8. dental visits/teeth whitener
9. costume pieces I buy for myself
10. meals during a show, or when I have a work-related meeting
11. haircuts
The list goes on. Basically anything that I need to look good is under this list, it's incredible. But of course this brings me to my next point. I was wondering what I would do this year when family members asked me what I want for Christmas. Honestly, I am for want of nothing (to throw in an old phrase). However, I do need a few things. I don't feel comfortable asking for frivolous or material things that I can just go out and buy myself. My main goal is to ask for things I really do need, so that my family can feel as though they're supporting me being an adult, instead of supporting me being a brat at Christmastime. So I put together this list for viewing in a handy video I made for Santa Claus (and my family).
Of course there was one more thing that I didn't put into the video, but only because it's nothing that I truly need as much as new socks or a nice pan. I have been working with a dinner theater company called Mystery Cafe, and hope to work with a local company called Pastimes World. Pastimes sends actors in period costumes to corporate gigs and things similar to that, either by themselves or with other actors, in costume to do... well, pretty much anything such as mingling, talking in character, answering questions, singing, etc. The reason why I would like to do this is because it's so much fun to be in costume, and even more fun to be at these gigs. From my work in dinner theater and at the museum, I can tell you that people eat this shit up when they see someone in a colonial dress and they can go up and talk to them. It's like they get the feeling back of when they used to stand in line to see Santa at the mall as kids. But what's even better is when you become someone else and you see the sparkle in their eyes as you start to speak in an older tongue, talking as though John Hancock and Samuel Adams were real people that you might actually know, and the inner child of your audience comes out without their knowledge. So I'm asking that anyone who doesn't check something off the list from the movie (using scribbless - see details at the bottom of this post) and you still feel the need to get me a present, then the money I get this year will go towards a few dresses from this ebay store you can see by clicking the link below:
**VictorianChoice Ebay Store**
But from my friends and acquaintances who read this blog, I don't really want anything from you aside from Christmas cheer, and for you to come to my Christmas party. The best way to celebrate the holidays is with family and friends, yummy food and some tasty adult beverages. I am for want of nothing, as I have money to pay my rent, feed myself, and participate in the occasional frivolities of being 20-something. Happy Holidays everyone, and God Bless you.
**Any family members who were directed to this blog post and are attempting to see my Christmas wish list, please email me or message me your email address. I have a checklist on a website called "Scribbless" that I will invite people to, so they can check something off if they bought it already. You have to be invited via email to look at the list and edit the list. This is to prevent from getting the same thing two or three times over. If you need help explaining how to do this, I can attempt to walk you through it but step 1 is to confirm that you want to be invited so you do not delete the email that scribbless sends you.**
Monday, November 5, 2012
Letter of Intent to Save the E.S.A
Dear Red States:
We're ticked off at your Neanderthal attitudes and politics and we've decided we're leaving: "Legitimate rape." is almost reason enough!
We in New York intend to form our own country and we're taking the other Blue States with us.
In case you aren't aware that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and the rest of the Northeast.
We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation and especially to the people of the new country of The Enlightened States of America (E.S.A).
To sum up briefly:
You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches.
We get Andrew Cuomo and Elizabeth Warren. You get Bobby Jindal and Todd Akin.
We get the Statue of Liberty. You get OpryLand.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs.
You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue. You get to make the red states pay their fair share.
We're ticked off at your Neanderthal attitudes and politics and we've decided we're leaving: "Legitimate rape." is almost reason enough!
We in New York intend to form our own country and we're taking the other Blue States with us.
In case you aren't aware that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and the rest of the Northeast.
We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation and especially to the people of the new country of The Enlightened States of America (E.S.A).
To sum up briefly:
You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches.
We get Andrew Cuomo and Elizabeth Warren. You get Bobby Jindal and Todd Akin.
We get the Statue of Liberty. You get OpryLand.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs.
You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue. You get to make the red states pay their fair share.
We wish you success in Afghanistan, and possibly Iran as well, but we're not willing to spend our resources in these sorts of pursuits.
With the Blue States in hand we will have firm control of 80% of the country's fresh water, more than 90% of the pineapple and lettuce, 92% of the nation's fresh fruit, 95% of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90% of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the US low sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools plus Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.
With the Red States you will have to cope with 88% of all obese Americans and their projected health care costs, 92% of all US mosquitoes, nearly 100% of the tornadoes, 90% of the hurricanes, 99% of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100% of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the U niversity of Georgia.
We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
38% of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62% believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44% say that evolution is only a theory, 53% that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61% of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals than we lefties.
We're taking the good weed too. You can have that crap they grow in Mexico.
Sincerely,
Citizens of the Enlightened States of America
Monday, September 24, 2012
"Never complain. Never explain." - Katherine Hepburn
Recently I have been thinking a lot about how one
progresses from the lower status in this business to the upper crusty
part. You know, how do people get from community theater in the middle
of Nowheres-ville and then they're in an Oscar-worthy film that made
millions in the box office? Thank God that I've gotten so many
connections this year on at least the semi-professional level or
full-time actors in the area that can give me some advice. Yes, I will
admit it can be discouraging when you have no SAG waivers and no clue
how to get Equity points in this small town, but it seems almost useless
to go to the big city without at least a few of each so you don't look
like you don't know what you're doing on paper in a place where noone's
ever heard of you. I am slowly trudging up the hill to at least get a
foothold around this town, and I'm not stopping until I can get into
some sort of union. Union means India Pearl will be on the road to the
big city, and with a lot of work experience to boot so I won't be some
young dreamer without any training who thinks they're going to be rich
if they simply move to Hollywood. I won't move right now, because I
don't think God quite has me on that path yet. He's given me plenty of
opportunity here and I'm not starving so why not stay where I'm happy at
least until I start to look older than 16 in front of a camera.
When I tell strangers or even family members that I'm an actress, (and a full-time working actress who doesn't do much else) they seem surprised. There's this look they give you that's sort of mixed up between pity, scoff, and awe. It's as though they think they know why they should "feel bad" for you and then they feel obligated to remind you that it's a hard field and all that repeated bullcrap, but they don't want to be rude so they say in a nicer way, "oh, that must be tough! Lot of rejection in that field..." like they're saying anything that's news to you. Sometimes they'll try to think of some second-cousin's-daughter-in-law that's an actress in New York and name some play they were in that you've never heard of, maybe for comfort that they know someone who sort of made it? Although I suppose it's very common to do that in a conversation to name someone else who has the same line of work and the person you're conversing with. But really the only response to that bit of small talk two cents is, "Oooo0o0o0o, ok... yeah that's cool." and hope you both think of something else to add before there's a dead silence.
The other thing I hate is when I say to them I'm an actor and they interrupt me with an I know more than you do grin and they say, "You mean actress?" NO I don't mean actress, this is 2012 and I will use whichever feminine or masculine noun I prefer you sexist old fashioned numbskull because I'm an artist and I would obviously know more about what I'm calling myself in my own field thank you very much. Or here's the question I can't stand getting, "Are you a good actress?" What the heck am I supposed to say to that?! I mean I'm getting work, and constant steady work at that, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm soon to be up for a Tony. Maybe I should ask people that in the future, because they ask me that abut my music too I always get someone who wonders if I can actually play guitar or sing, as if I'm a hack with a Youtube channel and pretends like most people and they can't wait to oust me to the rest of the world as such. I'll look at them and say, "Are you a good dentist? I've heard filling are really tough to do, patients are real hard to come by." or "Are you good at putting out fires, 'cause I know a lot of firemen who just don't know how to hose it down. You sure you're not just rescuing cats out of trees?"
I get it, people don't know they're being rude. It's also very easy to get defensive over your abilities and work ethic as an artist, because your work is your whole life. So I decided to look up some quotes from other female actors that I really look up to due to their impact on Hollywood, and their sheer talent. Everybody needs some sort of inspiration, and when you're feeling like the world is just a tough place and work is hard to come by, it's good to know that these women often felt the same.
A career is wonderful, but you can't curl up with it on a cold night.
Marilyn Monroe
Acting is the perfect idiot's profession.
Katharine Hepburn
If only those who dream about Hollywood knew how difficult it all is. - Greta Garbo
Hollywood is a place where they'll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.
Marilyn Monroe
Yeah sure they're not all a hundred percent understandable if you don't do what I do, or if you don't watch their movies and feel like you have some sort of secret connection to them when you read anything they say that's just plain real and not written down in a script. But I like them. And the little sense that they give me still motivates me to keep at it. Any time I think about what my life could be like if I gave up, my happiness would count more in the end. And that's what truly matters.
When I tell strangers or even family members that I'm an actress, (and a full-time working actress who doesn't do much else) they seem surprised. There's this look they give you that's sort of mixed up between pity, scoff, and awe. It's as though they think they know why they should "feel bad" for you and then they feel obligated to remind you that it's a hard field and all that repeated bullcrap, but they don't want to be rude so they say in a nicer way, "oh, that must be tough! Lot of rejection in that field..." like they're saying anything that's news to you. Sometimes they'll try to think of some second-cousin's-daughter-in-law that's an actress in New York and name some play they were in that you've never heard of, maybe for comfort that they know someone who sort of made it? Although I suppose it's very common to do that in a conversation to name someone else who has the same line of work and the person you're conversing with. But really the only response to that bit of small talk two cents is, "Oooo0o0o0o, ok... yeah that's cool." and hope you both think of something else to add before there's a dead silence.
The other thing I hate is when I say to them I'm an actor and they interrupt me with an I know more than you do grin and they say, "You mean actress?" NO I don't mean actress, this is 2012 and I will use whichever feminine or masculine noun I prefer you sexist old fashioned numbskull because I'm an artist and I would obviously know more about what I'm calling myself in my own field thank you very much. Or here's the question I can't stand getting, "Are you a good actress?" What the heck am I supposed to say to that?! I mean I'm getting work, and constant steady work at that, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm soon to be up for a Tony. Maybe I should ask people that in the future, because they ask me that abut my music too I always get someone who wonders if I can actually play guitar or sing, as if I'm a hack with a Youtube channel and pretends like most people and they can't wait to oust me to the rest of the world as such. I'll look at them and say, "Are you a good dentist? I've heard filling are really tough to do, patients are real hard to come by." or "Are you good at putting out fires, 'cause I know a lot of firemen who just don't know how to hose it down. You sure you're not just rescuing cats out of trees?"
I get it, people don't know they're being rude. It's also very easy to get defensive over your abilities and work ethic as an artist, because your work is your whole life. So I decided to look up some quotes from other female actors that I really look up to due to their impact on Hollywood, and their sheer talent. Everybody needs some sort of inspiration, and when you're feeling like the world is just a tough place and work is hard to come by, it's good to know that these women often felt the same.
A career is wonderful, but you can't curl up with it on a cold night.
Marilyn Monroe
Acting is the perfect idiot's profession.
Katharine Hepburn
If only those who dream about Hollywood knew how difficult it all is. - Greta Garbo
Hollywood is a place where they'll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.
Marilyn Monroe
Yeah sure they're not all a hundred percent understandable if you don't do what I do, or if you don't watch their movies and feel like you have some sort of secret connection to them when you read anything they say that's just plain real and not written down in a script. But I like them. And the little sense that they give me still motivates me to keep at it. Any time I think about what my life could be like if I gave up, my happiness would count more in the end. And that's what truly matters.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
the summer of the fireflies
When I was 16 years old, my friends and I had what I hope all of us would call the best summer of our lives. Some of my memories may actually consist of two summers, the one after 9th grade, and the one after 10th grade, but the latter of which (aside from a few exceptional stories from the year before) was really the best summer.
Do you remember when summer really meant no responsibilities? As soon as that last bell rang through the school halls, it felt like we were freed forever from the wooden rulers of tyranny and number 2 pencils. The best part was, you weren't alone on that day. Everyone was celebrating with you and we'd pile onto the bus or in someone's car if one of our friends was a junior and was old enough to drive, and we'd be off into the unknown. Maybe we'd go to 711 and celebrate with taquitos and the latest flavor slurpee. Or, perhaps we would take a walk down to the ice cream barn and rent a movie from Linda's Video, to later stock up on junkfood and prepare for a pig pile of a sleepover at someone's house.
In any case, sometime over the course of the next couple of days there would be a campfire in my backyard on Brierly Pond. We would all bring our notebooks and class papers, tests and homework projects, just so we could throw them into the fire pit and say goodbye to another year at Millbury Memorial. I remember throwing in the summer reading list and watching that burn simply for good measure. "That's what SparkNotes are for," one of us would pipe in. Then we'd proceed to stay up until we heard birds chirping or someone's Mom called to make sure if there was a campout or they were coming home before the sun came up.
Beach days were savored and plotted, like a fantastic getaway of sand, sun and ocean water. We were lucky that you could drive about an hour in any form of Eastern direction and hit the shore. It practically made your whole week to get one day on a kingdom of relaxation, toe wiggling, and sun bathing. The ocean water was a sweet relief and a challenge of sorts, it was much tougher to do handstands with waves hitting your legs than in a still backyard pool. Fried food, ice cream or even pizza was always around some corner, right next door to a shop of tourist junk and funny trinkets. You wanted to stay in this funland forever... or at least until your skin started to bake.
My best friend Travis and I would sneak out on what seemed to be a regular basis. We owned the streets of Millbury, meeting fellow sneakouters at the park or wandering around downtown hoping someone's dad (also a cop) didn't pull over and threaten to tell our parents if we didn't turn around and go home. That actually happened often when we would sit in the "nest" (playhouse) of Elmwood st Park, but we would disperse and return later only to hop on the swings and smoke peach flavored cigars that Shaun bought for us. The first time I saw a group of kids doing drugs (and said no) was at Woolie World, or Washington st Park as it was also known.
Travis and I met our carnival working friend when we snuck into the Millbury 4th of July Carnival before it opened. We spent three sleepless nights talking and getting to know him at our homes, giving him a bed instead of that tent he was inhabiting on his summer travels. (if you're wondering, we did in fact get in trouble for that, our moms still tell us every summer to this day that we're not allowed to adopt any more Carnies...)
When I had campfires and friends over, everyone came. There were smores, chips, sodas, sometimes a flavored cigar getting passed around as though we were trying to be adults and had no idea what that really entailed. There would be the occasional nighttime canoe ride with a flashlight and giggling screams before the frantic paddle back to the group and the safety of the campfire. There was the time of Crazy Naked Man terrorizing the neighborhood, and Millbury Police disrupting our fun but enhancing it at the same time, while they hunted down the serial naked runner. (That's a longer story saved for a later post, or a book perhaps).
Then there were fireflies. They were everywhere that summer, all over the yard and down the street when we took walks. They seemed to follow us on canoe rides and light up our paddle strokes, and then greet us upon our return. Almost every laughter and tear drop of nighttime memories happened next to one of those glowing magical lightning bugs. I still get a little sad whenever I see one today. I dip into a nostalgic stupor, wondering if there's an old friend or my first love somewhere who still thinks of the same memories that I do when they catch a glimpse of those dancing blinking insects.
The days were long and lazy, sometimes rainy, but there was never any pressure of work, bills, obligations, schedules... Sometimes I compare that summer to what can only be described as a giant sigh of relief. When there were quite literally no worries in my life, and my only intent was to have as much fun as I possibly could. I ponder over those days whenever another summer comes along, wondering if I'll ever feel that way again. Waking up was easy and going to bed was a surrender after fighting sleep due to too much fun and ease of life. I wonder if it's my own head that I can't get out of, or there was something truly different about that year.
Maybe I just need a vacation. I think all of the rush and change of the past few months has made me feel like I had no breathing room. Still, will I ever feel that sigh of relief ever again? Maybe I should just become a writer and forget about the status quo. If only it were that easy anymore. Maybe our parents were right, that those lazy days really do become somewhat wasted, and we will truly never get them back. Did I already leave behind the best days of my life? No, I can't say. I'm still finding the answer to that. But how to get rid of the panic of wasting time? Most of it's in your head when it comes to reality.
Do you remember when summer really meant no responsibilities? As soon as that last bell rang through the school halls, it felt like we were freed forever from the wooden rulers of tyranny and number 2 pencils. The best part was, you weren't alone on that day. Everyone was celebrating with you and we'd pile onto the bus or in someone's car if one of our friends was a junior and was old enough to drive, and we'd be off into the unknown. Maybe we'd go to 711 and celebrate with taquitos and the latest flavor slurpee. Or, perhaps we would take a walk down to the ice cream barn and rent a movie from Linda's Video, to later stock up on junkfood and prepare for a pig pile of a sleepover at someone's house.
In any case, sometime over the course of the next couple of days there would be a campfire in my backyard on Brierly Pond. We would all bring our notebooks and class papers, tests and homework projects, just so we could throw them into the fire pit and say goodbye to another year at Millbury Memorial. I remember throwing in the summer reading list and watching that burn simply for good measure. "That's what SparkNotes are for," one of us would pipe in. Then we'd proceed to stay up until we heard birds chirping or someone's Mom called to make sure if there was a campout or they were coming home before the sun came up.
Beach days were savored and plotted, like a fantastic getaway of sand, sun and ocean water. We were lucky that you could drive about an hour in any form of Eastern direction and hit the shore. It practically made your whole week to get one day on a kingdom of relaxation, toe wiggling, and sun bathing. The ocean water was a sweet relief and a challenge of sorts, it was much tougher to do handstands with waves hitting your legs than in a still backyard pool. Fried food, ice cream or even pizza was always around some corner, right next door to a shop of tourist junk and funny trinkets. You wanted to stay in this funland forever... or at least until your skin started to bake.
My best friend Travis and I would sneak out on what seemed to be a regular basis. We owned the streets of Millbury, meeting fellow sneakouters at the park or wandering around downtown hoping someone's dad (also a cop) didn't pull over and threaten to tell our parents if we didn't turn around and go home. That actually happened often when we would sit in the "nest" (playhouse) of Elmwood st Park, but we would disperse and return later only to hop on the swings and smoke peach flavored cigars that Shaun bought for us. The first time I saw a group of kids doing drugs (and said no) was at Woolie World, or Washington st Park as it was also known.
Travis and I met our carnival working friend when we snuck into the Millbury 4th of July Carnival before it opened. We spent three sleepless nights talking and getting to know him at our homes, giving him a bed instead of that tent he was inhabiting on his summer travels. (if you're wondering, we did in fact get in trouble for that, our moms still tell us every summer to this day that we're not allowed to adopt any more Carnies...)
When I had campfires and friends over, everyone came. There were smores, chips, sodas, sometimes a flavored cigar getting passed around as though we were trying to be adults and had no idea what that really entailed. There would be the occasional nighttime canoe ride with a flashlight and giggling screams before the frantic paddle back to the group and the safety of the campfire. There was the time of Crazy Naked Man terrorizing the neighborhood, and Millbury Police disrupting our fun but enhancing it at the same time, while they hunted down the serial naked runner. (That's a longer story saved for a later post, or a book perhaps).
Then there were fireflies. They were everywhere that summer, all over the yard and down the street when we took walks. They seemed to follow us on canoe rides and light up our paddle strokes, and then greet us upon our return. Almost every laughter and tear drop of nighttime memories happened next to one of those glowing magical lightning bugs. I still get a little sad whenever I see one today. I dip into a nostalgic stupor, wondering if there's an old friend or my first love somewhere who still thinks of the same memories that I do when they catch a glimpse of those dancing blinking insects.
The days were long and lazy, sometimes rainy, but there was never any pressure of work, bills, obligations, schedules... Sometimes I compare that summer to what can only be described as a giant sigh of relief. When there were quite literally no worries in my life, and my only intent was to have as much fun as I possibly could. I ponder over those days whenever another summer comes along, wondering if I'll ever feel that way again. Waking up was easy and going to bed was a surrender after fighting sleep due to too much fun and ease of life. I wonder if it's my own head that I can't get out of, or there was something truly different about that year.
Maybe I just need a vacation. I think all of the rush and change of the past few months has made me feel like I had no breathing room. Still, will I ever feel that sigh of relief ever again? Maybe I should just become a writer and forget about the status quo. If only it were that easy anymore. Maybe our parents were right, that those lazy days really do become somewhat wasted, and we will truly never get them back. Did I already leave behind the best days of my life? No, I can't say. I'm still finding the answer to that. But how to get rid of the panic of wasting time? Most of it's in your head when it comes to reality.
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