Ten years ago, I was 14 and had just started to make new friends at my new school whom I had joined in a common love for singing and playing instruments. That was the year that I realized what a good school actually consisted of. Before that, I was living in one of the worst parts of Worcester and trudged through Clark University every day to walk to a school that made me feel very small, as I was probably the only white girl in my entire grade. This new place had a marching band, a winter percussion, a choir, and a drama club, all of which I was very eager to get involved with. (Needless to say, it was a very quiet, very small, very "white" town... you get the idea)
If you ask me today how I made friends, I would tell you that I don't. I happen to meet people that become my friends because of work and all of the projects I get involved with, and now that I'm a mature adult I know how to not be incredibly awkward and obnoxious towards them. If you had asked me ten years ago how I made friends, I would also tell you that I didn't. Though I would say that I was always trying to.
There was a girl in my new school that seemed to be popular and had a lot of friends. Her name was Anjela, and she was a senior while I was in eighth grade. She was very nice to me, and I decided that hanging out with her must be the factor in getting me friends. I was right. She invited me to come to church with her, and I went to youth group with her very Sunday night where I suddenly and magically had friends. I was so happy, and so was my mother that I wasn't getting into trouble. It was a win/win.
A couple of weeks later, she asked me if I would go on a mission trip with the youth group and some adult members of the church. They were going to help some people down in Texas with a rebuilding. I thought, "Sure, I like helping people. I don't know what this God stuff is all about, but I'll play along if it means I'm helping out and hanging out with my friends." It happened during February vacation, and on day one of arriving at the site I knew that something very strange was going on.
A SMALL BACKSTORY...
When I was eight years old, my sister whom I shared a bedroom with, had told me that I could die at any age. When I said that babies couldn't die, she laughed in my face. Of course my mother had told me that you could only die when you're old! Why wouldn't she?! That's what you tell little kids so their whole world doesn't come crashing down on them when they start asking questions about reality. Of course, then my world came crashing down on me anyway since I was convinced there was no way I could get sick and die of something at age eight!
I started having night terrors, and went into a deep depression. There was this awful fear in my daily life that I was going to croak and I would end up in darkness, in nowhere. My mother had never told me anything about God, so I was terrified! I even told my mother that there was no God. God wouldn't kill little kids. -- She really didn't like that. I wasn't entirely sure I did either.
A few months later, it was March. Springtime was starting to emerge, and the rains came. I woke up in sweats, breathing hard after another dream. I had a nightmare that a church had burned down, and all I saw was the plot of land, the fencing around it, the ashes in a strange almost-church-like shape with smoke coming from them and burning embers at the edges. There were two people there, a man and a woman, both crying into their sleeves and holding each other. The man looked up into the sky in tears while his wife wiped her nose. Then I woke up.
FAST FORWARD...
I'm 14, going on a mission trip with my new-found friends. We got off of the plane, into our hotel, and the next morning arrived at the site we were going to be helping. As I looked around, I had a strange feeling of familiarity. This feeling that I had been there before would not stop nagging at me. Then the pastor and his wife came from their car to greet us. It was that moment that I realized, it was them that I had seen in my dream 6 years before.
In March of 1997, the Olive Branch Church at Woodforest in Houston, TX burned down. Whether it was to due with race, atheism, or just a crazy arsonist getting ahold of some matches, I never found out. What I did know, was that after speaking with the pastor my dream had not only told me about an event that had probably happened that day, but it had told me the future.
"I've been here before," I said. He was just short of shell-shocked when I explained to him this dream that suddenly came rushing forth to the front of my memory. I told him I recognized the shape of this brand-new building, and all the bushes, fencing, and sidewalks around it. I knew who he and his wife were, down to the outfits they had worn in my dream.
"This isn't where our church burned down," he said. "Our church burned down a few miles that way (he pointed) God must have shown you where we were meant to rebuild, because we only bought this land 2 years ago."
It was that day that I decided my faith in God's mere existence, could never be shaken.
FAST FORWARD AGAIN...
I will fully admit that I went through a lot of trial and error just like any other person. In high school I was boy crazy, and in college I was horribly depressed, drank a lot, and was also boy crazy. Over the years I've tried to make friends with people that were probably never going to be my friends. I've felt like I was two different people, drinking 5 nights per week in my sorority house and then teaching a bible study and being vice president of Navigators on my off time. Some critics may even wonder how I could say I was "really a Christian" when I wasn't always leading the lifestyle that others believed I should, that the bible technically says that I should...
I did a lot of stupid things when I was constantly searching for approval, and when I was in college I hated myself. I hated anyone that tried to tell me what to do, and I hated feeling trapped in the middle of nowhere when I just wanted to start my life, have a boyfriend, I wanted girls to stop being bitches, I wanted my peers in the theater program to accept me into their cliquey group, and I wanted to feel like I was good enough; for anyone, really.
I've had friends that hated gays, and I've had friends that hated God. There are times when I hear people say hurtful things about someone that barely sinned, and "sinners" that are driven away from ever stepping foot inside a church or a temple or a "whatever" because they are so turned off by extremists and judgment. I go to a UCC church where we accept everyone, and I am so unbelievably proud to be there every Sunday with others that love and accept and lead what non-church-goers deem a "normal" life since we're not picketing Planned Parenthood and we're just spiritual persons.
What I have now is a much better attitude towards myself, a professional career that I have to hustle and work my ass off for, way better friends and much more solid friendships with a few of those that survived college with me, and an amazing boyfriend. The path that we walk on can be very crooked and terrifying. I know that without an unstoppable faith that God was at least holding my hand when I was crying about how miserable I was, threatening to kill myself or fighting an eating disorder, (both due to feeling so unloved) I would not be where I am today. I kept repeating mistakes and patterns, but I never gave up on the fact that someone/something was looking out for me and continuing to keep me here for a reason. Now that I stopped being so self-involved, indulgent, and wallowing in my own morbid reflection all the time, I'm finally where I need to be at for at least a "mostly" happy and fulfilling life.
I guess my point is that one day in Texas, that was my moment that kept me going, kept my engine from running out of fuel, right up until today. It will continue to keep me going through all the shitty times in my life, and I can only hope that other people's journeys even come close to finding that moment. It was the moment that spoke to me and continued to speak for ten years by saying,
"I'm listening to you, even when you were a child saying prayers in the middle of the night to the moon because you didn't know who else to say prayers to.
I'm here for you, when your heart is broken to pieces and you feel like that man was your only chance at happiness.
I'm holding you, when your body is being abused from this vicious cycle and you don't think you're beautiful unless you starve.
I'm looking out for you, when you cry out against people that don't accept you and you don't think you'll ever have better friends.
I'm healing you, when you're strong enough to stand on your own two feet I will keep you there.
I'm loving you, so you will always be loved."
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
NYC followed by *dun dun daaahhhh!!* SNOWPOCALYPSE 2013
(This is a long one, but I'm including pictures!)
Last week I went to New York City with my roommate/very close friend. She had a grad school interview and asked me to tag along for the week. Since I haven't been working very much lately and I've been in somewhat of a slump with a nannying job dwindling its hours before my eyes, splitting Beantown was an extremely appealing option (as opposed to crying in front of the tv for another week about my nonproductive life.)
While in the city, it was FREEZING but we made the most of it. The Metropolitan ended up being a beautiful option for my friend to take some new headshots of me (funded most graciously by my dad -- happy birthday to me, eh?). They turned out beautifully, an example below and some more of the shots can be seen on my actor page www.facebook.com/indiapearl
We had a very "New York" sorta evening, where I met some of her oldest and dearest friends at a bar uptown. Then some of us ended up at a late night diner eating things that were bad for us and having life discussions. Of course we all had to tell my friend how amazing she was going to be at her grad school interview the next day, because of course she most certainly did. It's funny how many times you can be told something by a bajillion people, but in the end you still have to go through with it before you believe any of them to be right.
After my scholarly friend had to shoot back to Boston, I stayed an extra day on my own. I did all the cute things I used to do when I lived there: Chinatown shopping for cheap jewelry, Little Italy for yummy pasta,
Union Square for the farmer's market... what? yuck!
I even managed to squeeze in a 5 minute set at the Broadway Comedy Club. I hope to go back to some more comedy clubs the next time I'm in town. In my wild and crazy dreams some casting director will actually like one of my crazy stories about creepy guys at the gym and ask me to audition for a pilot... yes I realize how wild and crazy that idea is, but it happens.
To wrap everything up for the day, I googled "discount Mary Poppins tickets, Broadway" and instantly found a coupon. Instead of $140+ tickets, I paid $83.00 including the fee to sit FRONT ROW!! I laughed, I cried, and then at the end I was clapping, laughing, and crying simultaneously. I cannot begin to explain how much I loved this version of one of my favorite childhood films, especially the little kids who were so amazing that I would believe someone if they told me the kids were actually robots with great vocal trainers. The costumes, the details, the effects... nothing could have made me happier that I spent that dough on seeing a show a month before it exits the New Amsterdam and makes room for some other new thing. Memories make it worth every penny.
That evening, I had a late dinner with my uncle and his lovely girlfriend and they let me crash on their couch before I had to depart the next morning. I had already received a very worried phonecall from my grandmother saying,
"India! There's going to be 18 inches of snow! Are you still in New York?! When are you coming back? ... Ok, get home safe. Love you."
Needless to say, I was slightly alarmed that I could conceivably become stuck in New York. Not that it's a horrible thing to happen, but to be fair I had spent far too much moolah as it was already.
The little Italian greyhounds at my uncle's apartment looked like a baby greyhound mixed with ferret mixed with weasel mixed with hairless cat mixed with effing adorable. That's probably the only good way to describe them outside of these pictures:
I headed back to Boston with an excited feeling in my stomach. I was very exhausted and yet very satisfied and happy with my fulfilling week. My handsome boyfriend had already told me that we would go to a comedy club that evening and then go get snowed in together. It seemed like a perfect thing to come home to, and I guess I was right since the next three days happened something like this:
Day 1
Friday
We woke up after sleeping in rather late, until about 11 or so. The snow was falling pretty decent, but not too bad to be unable to leave the house. My sister had gone to CT to get snowed in with her boyfriend, and my roommate hadn't had a chance to go to the store for supplies before the storm had started. So naturally, during a snowstorm like the three New Englanders that we are, we went out to the grocery store. I can't tell you how ridiculous the scene was upon entering the parking lot and thereafter.
The lines were so long that they wrapped around the aisles, but luckily for us it didn't take too long. I took the groceries as my boyfriend took a place in line, and then through some miscommunication about a trip to the liquor store, I had misplaced my friend/roommate. This shouldn't seem like a hard problem to solve in 2013, right? No, it could be remedied by a simple phonecall. However, I had left my cellphone on the charger and then my roommate's phone had died!
Suddenly, I found myself wandering around the store and yelling her name. This was something I hadn't done since I was lost in a grocery mart at age 12, maybe younger. I was frantically thinking about where else she could possibly have gone, and how it was ever even possible for people to locate each other when there was no such thing as a cordless phone, let alone one you could take in your pocket. Of course my boyfriend thought of the only simple solution I could not have thought of but should've remembered from childhood: Go wait at the car, it's the only constant in the scenario.
Eventually, she did make it back to the car, although she was very cold and tired because we somehow walked right past her waiting for us at the entrance. I was just glad we found each other and didn't lose a member in the storm since we had a lot of wine that required drinking and cookies that required baking. It was finally time to hunker down back at the apartment.
Friday night
Even though we were tired and a little cabin fevered, I tried to get us all to muster up the energy for getting off the couch and stepping in front of a camera. Recording a Youtube video is a great way to forget that you can't go anywhere. Ethyl and Evelyn, for those of you that are consistent viewers of my channel, had a Valentine's Day adventure fighting over the one man that responded to their invitation to the house. I haven't laughed so much during a shoot in a very long time. (I will edit this to include a link to the video once I get it on youtube!)
Day 2
Saturday
I honestly could not tell you what I would do without my boyfriend. We got up, made pancakes and coffee, and then proceeded to take the shovels and start on the driveway that looked a little something LIKE THIS:
My roommate has fibromyalgia so we didn't want her shoveling, so she (as frustrated as she was about having to do so) stayed in the house all day. Although she did end up cleaning the whole apartment, bless her for being so determined. Anyway, there was at least TWO FEET OF SNOW in the driveway, in the street, and on the front and back porches that we were responsible for shoveling. We probably shoveled for about 5-6 hours total including a few very short breaks for coffee and switching gloves out. The street outside of the driveway that we needed to be plowed to be able to leave the house, was not plowed all day. When I was shoveling the front walkway, there was a man that had gotten his car stuck in the middle of the street.
For about 20 minutes or so, the neighbors were digging him out, pushing him forward, then backward, forward, then backward. , and IT BROKE DOWN! It would appear we were totally stuck and we weren't leaving anytime soon. All I could think was, "Thank God we went to the grocery store and we have plenty of booze."
If I had to imagine what this storm would have been like without a man in the house to help us shovel, it would include myself (the weakling) and my roommate (the essentially arthritic) shoveling for about two hours before I called my dad crying not having a clue what we were to do. Needless to say, it was one of those days when I was unbelievably grateful to have the love of my life also be a wonderful human being.
Never fear, dinner was ready by the time we came back upstairs for the last time. Two cars dug out, cleared porches, but nowhere to go beyond the end of those perfectly dug out areas. I actually had a lot of fun digging in the snow and getting out in the fresh air all day. I felt very accomplished and optimistic. The snow was trapping us, but we still had plenty of warm food to eat and movies to watch.
Of course we had to watch Finding Nemo during Storm Nemo. I'm fairly certain we weren't the only ones who had thought of it.
When we went to bed after 1am, the roads were still not plowed. I was a little nervous, but I was still snuggling with my lover for the third night in a row and the cold could do nothing to make that anything less than wonderful.
Day 3
Sunday
I couldn't move. I woke up, and I could barely move a muscle.
Of course, I thought. You fucked up your back, your hands, your hips, your neck, your shoulders, your arms, and even your ribs hurt when you laugh.
I hadn't ached like this since I checked out of band camp at UMass because I played cymbals and marched in the 95 degree heat all week to the point where I was bleeding, sun poisoned, and swollen pretty much everywhere. This post-shoveling for 5 or 6 hours body was certainly a close second on the pain scale. Especially my back.
What did we learn? I should always stretch rigorously before ever picking up a shovel again.
About 10:30 am the plow finally came and dug us out of Medford Manor. As happy as I was to get out of the house, it was a bit of a nice stay-cation with a close friend to laugh with and my boyfriend to snuggle with. As he put it, "We just passed another test in our relationship this weekend." He was certainly right.
So there you have it, we got through it but I'm still in a fuck-ton of pain. Wish me luck as I down this advil and keep on more bedrest. I hope you fine readers are fairing well and you've regained electricity and are able to leave your homes. Stay safe, stay warm, and enjoy the snow while it lasts because it's going to rain tomorrow.
Like they say.
If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a minute.
Last week I went to New York City with my roommate/very close friend. She had a grad school interview and asked me to tag along for the week. Since I haven't been working very much lately and I've been in somewhat of a slump with a nannying job dwindling its hours before my eyes, splitting Beantown was an extremely appealing option (as opposed to crying in front of the tv for another week about my nonproductive life.)
While in the city, it was FREEZING but we made the most of it. The Metropolitan ended up being a beautiful option for my friend to take some new headshots of me (funded most graciously by my dad -- happy birthday to me, eh?). They turned out beautifully, an example below and some more of the shots can be seen on my actor page www.facebook.com/indiapearl
We had a very "New York" sorta evening, where I met some of her oldest and dearest friends at a bar uptown. Then some of us ended up at a late night diner eating things that were bad for us and having life discussions. Of course we all had to tell my friend how amazing she was going to be at her grad school interview the next day, because of course she most certainly did. It's funny how many times you can be told something by a bajillion people, but in the end you still have to go through with it before you believe any of them to be right.
After my scholarly friend had to shoot back to Boston, I stayed an extra day on my own. I did all the cute things I used to do when I lived there: Chinatown shopping for cheap jewelry, Little Italy for yummy pasta,
Union Square for the farmer's market... what? yuck!
I even managed to squeeze in a 5 minute set at the Broadway Comedy Club. I hope to go back to some more comedy clubs the next time I'm in town. In my wild and crazy dreams some casting director will actually like one of my crazy stories about creepy guys at the gym and ask me to audition for a pilot... yes I realize how wild and crazy that idea is, but it happens.
To wrap everything up for the day, I googled "discount Mary Poppins tickets, Broadway" and instantly found a coupon. Instead of $140+ tickets, I paid $83.00 including the fee to sit FRONT ROW!! I laughed, I cried, and then at the end I was clapping, laughing, and crying simultaneously. I cannot begin to explain how much I loved this version of one of my favorite childhood films, especially the little kids who were so amazing that I would believe someone if they told me the kids were actually robots with great vocal trainers. The costumes, the details, the effects... nothing could have made me happier that I spent that dough on seeing a show a month before it exits the New Amsterdam and makes room for some other new thing. Memories make it worth every penny.
That evening, I had a late dinner with my uncle and his lovely girlfriend and they let me crash on their couch before I had to depart the next morning. I had already received a very worried phonecall from my grandmother saying,
"India! There's going to be 18 inches of snow! Are you still in New York?! When are you coming back? ... Ok, get home safe. Love you."
Needless to say, I was slightly alarmed that I could conceivably become stuck in New York. Not that it's a horrible thing to happen, but to be fair I had spent far too much moolah as it was already.
The little Italian greyhounds at my uncle's apartment looked like a baby greyhound mixed with ferret mixed with weasel mixed with hairless cat mixed with effing adorable. That's probably the only good way to describe them outside of these pictures:
I headed back to Boston with an excited feeling in my stomach. I was very exhausted and yet very satisfied and happy with my fulfilling week. My handsome boyfriend had already told me that we would go to a comedy club that evening and then go get snowed in together. It seemed like a perfect thing to come home to, and I guess I was right since the next three days happened something like this:
Day 1
Friday
We woke up after sleeping in rather late, until about 11 or so. The snow was falling pretty decent, but not too bad to be unable to leave the house. My sister had gone to CT to get snowed in with her boyfriend, and my roommate hadn't had a chance to go to the store for supplies before the storm had started. So naturally, during a snowstorm like the three New Englanders that we are, we went out to the grocery store. I can't tell you how ridiculous the scene was upon entering the parking lot and thereafter.
The lines were so long that they wrapped around the aisles, but luckily for us it didn't take too long. I took the groceries as my boyfriend took a place in line, and then through some miscommunication about a trip to the liquor store, I had misplaced my friend/roommate. This shouldn't seem like a hard problem to solve in 2013, right? No, it could be remedied by a simple phonecall. However, I had left my cellphone on the charger and then my roommate's phone had died!
Suddenly, I found myself wandering around the store and yelling her name. This was something I hadn't done since I was lost in a grocery mart at age 12, maybe younger. I was frantically thinking about where else she could possibly have gone, and how it was ever even possible for people to locate each other when there was no such thing as a cordless phone, let alone one you could take in your pocket. Of course my boyfriend thought of the only simple solution I could not have thought of but should've remembered from childhood: Go wait at the car, it's the only constant in the scenario.
Eventually, she did make it back to the car, although she was very cold and tired because we somehow walked right past her waiting for us at the entrance. I was just glad we found each other and didn't lose a member in the storm since we had a lot of wine that required drinking and cookies that required baking. It was finally time to hunker down back at the apartment.
Friday night
Even though we were tired and a little cabin fevered, I tried to get us all to muster up the energy for getting off the couch and stepping in front of a camera. Recording a Youtube video is a great way to forget that you can't go anywhere. Ethyl and Evelyn, for those of you that are consistent viewers of my channel, had a Valentine's Day adventure fighting over the one man that responded to their invitation to the house. I haven't laughed so much during a shoot in a very long time. (I will edit this to include a link to the video once I get it on youtube!)
Day 2
Saturday
I honestly could not tell you what I would do without my boyfriend. We got up, made pancakes and coffee, and then proceeded to take the shovels and start on the driveway that looked a little something LIKE THIS:
My roommate has fibromyalgia so we didn't want her shoveling, so she (as frustrated as she was about having to do so) stayed in the house all day. Although she did end up cleaning the whole apartment, bless her for being so determined. Anyway, there was at least TWO FEET OF SNOW in the driveway, in the street, and on the front and back porches that we were responsible for shoveling. We probably shoveled for about 5-6 hours total including a few very short breaks for coffee and switching gloves out. The street outside of the driveway that we needed to be plowed to be able to leave the house, was not plowed all day. When I was shoveling the front walkway, there was a man that had gotten his car stuck in the middle of the street.
For about 20 minutes or so, the neighbors were digging him out, pushing him forward, then backward, forward, then backward. , and IT BROKE DOWN! It would appear we were totally stuck and we weren't leaving anytime soon. All I could think was, "Thank God we went to the grocery store and we have plenty of booze."
If I had to imagine what this storm would have been like without a man in the house to help us shovel, it would include myself (the weakling) and my roommate (the essentially arthritic) shoveling for about two hours before I called my dad crying not having a clue what we were to do. Needless to say, it was one of those days when I was unbelievably grateful to have the love of my life also be a wonderful human being.
Never fear, dinner was ready by the time we came back upstairs for the last time. Two cars dug out, cleared porches, but nowhere to go beyond the end of those perfectly dug out areas. I actually had a lot of fun digging in the snow and getting out in the fresh air all day. I felt very accomplished and optimistic. The snow was trapping us, but we still had plenty of warm food to eat and movies to watch.
Of course we had to watch Finding Nemo during Storm Nemo. I'm fairly certain we weren't the only ones who had thought of it.
When we went to bed after 1am, the roads were still not plowed. I was a little nervous, but I was still snuggling with my lover for the third night in a row and the cold could do nothing to make that anything less than wonderful.
Day 3
Sunday
I couldn't move. I woke up, and I could barely move a muscle.
Of course, I thought. You fucked up your back, your hands, your hips, your neck, your shoulders, your arms, and even your ribs hurt when you laugh.
I hadn't ached like this since I checked out of band camp at UMass because I played cymbals and marched in the 95 degree heat all week to the point where I was bleeding, sun poisoned, and swollen pretty much everywhere. This post-shoveling for 5 or 6 hours body was certainly a close second on the pain scale. Especially my back.
What did we learn? I should always stretch rigorously before ever picking up a shovel again.
About 10:30 am the plow finally came and dug us out of Medford Manor. As happy as I was to get out of the house, it was a bit of a nice stay-cation with a close friend to laugh with and my boyfriend to snuggle with. As he put it, "We just passed another test in our relationship this weekend." He was certainly right.
So there you have it, we got through it but I'm still in a fuck-ton of pain. Wish me luck as I down this advil and keep on more bedrest. I hope you fine readers are fairing well and you've regained electricity and are able to leave your homes. Stay safe, stay warm, and enjoy the snow while it lasts because it's going to rain tomorrow.
Like they say.
If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a minute.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Can't we all just get along?
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.
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, 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
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