2009 – You crafty, clever bitch


I’m not a big “Year in Review” person. Mainly, this is because I rarely read or see or listen to things the year they come out. If Jamie hadn’t forced Midwinter Graces upon me (and thank god she did) I wouldn’t have gotten around to it until I was 37.

Having lost my job this year, I’m feeling a little…well…weird. As someone who prides herself on intuition, I’m flummoxed I didn’t see this one coming. I mean, I did, but it was about an hour before the meeting in the conference room.

So what I’d like to do here is boost myself up a little as I head into my final week of being a receptionist at my present job. So this is a Year in Review, but it’s not a list of pop culture items I really liked.

THINGS I LEARNED THIS YEAR

1. Politically, I know what I’m talking about. The Bush economic and foreign policies failed just as spectacularly as I thought they would back in 2001. Now, this means a lot to me for a couple reasons. First, I’m a political nerd. And I have a sense of how a feminist or feminine approach to economics and foreign policy is highly beneficial. Bush basically did the opposite. And it failed. Second, I have recently, lost a bit of my sense of “how the world works.” This makes me feel like I still am able to think at a very critical level. No, I’m not right all the time, but I am smart. I need to remind myself of that. As such, I want to encourage everyone to back the f*ck up about Obama and his first year. He is accomplishing incredible amounts of things as we speak. Is he going to fly a “Mission Accomplished” sign? No he’s not. Have patience, sisters and brothers. It takes more than a day to make a plum pudding.

2. I am really a very strong person. I used to equate the fact that I will sob immediately and seemingly with no cause at any given moment, along with the fact that I can be crippled by anxiety and OCD with being a “weak” person. I’m not. I’m really strong. I mean, how could I carry around this much baggage if I’m weak? Right? That was a joke.

3. I only accomplished 2 of my 10 Resolutions. And one of them was “have a fully stocked bar”, but how keyed in was that, I ask you?

4. Fear IS the opposite of love.

5. When shit hits the fan, I take refuge in family and personal tradition.

6. That I am spectacularly blessed by the people in my life, and that even when I’m not being particularly charming, or even nice…people like me. I don’t get it. But it’s true.

7. I think the phrase “being born again” means reincarnation, not the other thing.

8. That my time is incredibly valuable, even if I spend it doing nothing at all. And that google calendar may, outside antibiotics and inhalers, be the best invention ever.

9. Madeline Albright is quickly becoming a hero to me.

10. We all contain multitudes. Contradictions. And we should all be allowed to own all of them. Certainly, I’m not encouraging hypocrisy. I’m just saying you can like your cake, and hate it too.

So 2009 was tough.

But I felt my brain growing more wrinkly and complex. I was also pickling it in my fully stocked bar. (The other resolution was to have a craft space. I did that too. The SODA room.)

I quite literally have no idea what 2010 has in store. There are a couple events in the calendar. Celebrations, actually. Not a bad way to get things started.

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No Use Cryin’ Over Spilled Ink


Well, it’s that time of year again. That time in between Halloween and the Christmas season when I think about what Hitchcock movies I haven’t seen yet.

I know I’ve been MIA. And chances are I will continue to be for awhile, but I’m alright.

But back to Hitch. There’s something about this time of year that is just so very Hitch to me. It’s not terribly elusive as to why. November has a hint of suspense. It’s dark, it’s chilly. Clothing is in the tweed variety. It’s nice to see Jimmy Stewart before you watch It’s A Wonderful Life. Netflix, an organization I feel provides a service akin to charity, has slowly been increasing it’s Hitchcock watch instantly selections to the point that of the 51 titles (including tv) they provide(someday….someday Rebecca will be readily available on DVD. Someday…) 27 (that’s 53%) are available to watch instantly. I’ve seen 11 of his films, and a lot of television episodes (but they were all on Nick at Nite). According to Netflix, I’ve also seen Strangers on a Train, but god help me…I don’t remember.

So what to watch now? I’ve seen the last (Family Plot), but with a filmmaker like Hitchcock, the first is harder to discern. Sure there’s an old silent he directed, and that’s as good as I’ll be able to do. But I’m sure that wasn’t the first film Hitchcock ever produced.

I think it’s between Foreign Correspondent, The 39 Steps and Torn Curtain. And something Cary Grant. Even though I’ve seen all the Cary Grant ones.

I’m no Hitchcock zealot. I actually didn’t like The Birds. (Although I’m beggining to suspect what I don’t like, in truth, is Daphne Du Maurier. Which is too bad because it’s so fun to say. It’s like white gloves for your vocal apparatus. Daphne du Maurier wore Diorissimo, I bet.)

But then again, maybe I should watch Topaz; it’s November’s birthstone.


Meanwhile, job search continues. I advise you all to buy stock in pantyhose. I’m buying a lot of it. I refuse to wear a suit. But I will succumb to pantyhose.

A friend of mine was a bit incredulous at my disdain for suits. “I love suits!” he declared. “Well, you don’t have my tits,” I told him.

I look incomprehensibly frumpy in suits. And I refuse to look like someone’s dowager aunt while interviewing. I wear “suit-like” things, respectable, of course. But no jacket here. Perhaps it’s because I’ve played a man too many times, but as Dita says of sweatpants, “They chafe me, if not physically, emotionally.”

Actually, I was feeling really depressed when I started writing this post. But the thought of a pencil skirt and wiggle dress shopping spree might just pull me out of it.

That settles it. The leopard heels are coming to that callback tonight.

This train is waiting for signal clearance. We regret any inconvenience.


I almost cancelled an audition.

Usually when I cancel an audition it’s because I got bad vibes from the producers, or I got cast in something else, or I’m sick as a dog. That’s usually it.

But not this time. This time it had nothing at all to do with the theatre company or anything. On Tuesday, I found out my day job is “being eliminated.” I have some time before my last day, which is good. But still, it felt like this train came to a screeching halt.

My first instict, for some reason, was CLEAR ALL SCHEDULES NOW. Mental sirens screaming for life lockdown.

So that meant cancel that audition. Which I didn’t do, but I planned on it.

I thought, Only with this day job can I guarantee my availability. I don’t know what I’m doing now. I don’t know what my schedule looks like. I don’t know anything!

I am a very honest and rule-abiding person, which doesn’t always serve particularly well when you are trying to make it as an actor. But that’s how I roll. So it makes me physically nauseous to think that I will be filling out a conflict form with very little idea about what my future holds. Of course ideally, a show would take precedence because I am potentially a part of that first and ultimately it is my intended career path.

But a girl has to pay bills, too. So in all honesty, I don’t know if I can hold to the ideal. And that makes me sick.

Which is why I was going to cancel the audition.

But I’m auditioning for something I truly believe in. And I don’t know what the future will hold.

This has been an incredibly hard week for me. And it would be safer to not go to this audition. But I’m going to go.