My Ankh Tattoo

10.27.2014
Without fail this happens...


I'll be in an elevator. (My hair is up so my tattoo is showing.) Someone walks in and stands behind me. I feel the eyeballs burrow into my neck and then the question comes...


"Um, so what's your tattoo? Is that a cross?" (uncomfortable laughter)


"It's an ankh. It's an Egyptian hieroglyph that means eternal life."


They usually will nod their heads and say they thought that's what it meant and go back to silence... while I secretly giggle because I know a lot are simply relieved I'm not rocking some sort of devil worshipper sign.


Nope...not praying to the Dark One. When I was in 6th grade I got really into Egyptian history and the idea of the ankh. I vowed some day I would get a tattoo of the symbol and then put my children's names near it; my take on eternal life. (Heavy stuff for a 6th grader, I know.)


So yeah, I got the tattoo years ago and now that I'm pregnant I'm reminded of that little 6th grader with all the philosophical plans for her and her children.
I've experienced losing a parent at an early age so I've always done morbidly sweet things so that any future children would know their mother just in cases.


I've kept a journal since 1st grade. It started out as a place where I'd rant about homework and unibrow interventions but later morphed into words for my children to read. It felt good knowing there would be a record of who I was... a record of my truths...pages that would carry my spirit. Sadly, my father left nothing. I have a handful of stories from family and that's it. Having so little of him has always bothered me. What I wouldn't give for some of that man's writings! A home video...SOMETHING!

It's why I've always related to people's need to mark where they've been. Some folks graffiti. I wrote. But then I stopped blogging simply because I ran out of things I felt like sharing publically.


For today at least my need to write is back. I was watching one of Oprah's Where Are They Nows and it featured a follow-up on one of my favorite Oprah moments of all time. There was this father/husband who created a youtube love letter to his wife for her birthday. That video and that man's story drove me to download Train's Mary Me and weep like a mad woman every time it came on. I've always wondered about the family and how they were. Then today I found out he had sadly past away. His wife and their two sons updated Oprah on their lives and while they're doing well I couldn't help but weep for the little boys who lost their daddy.


Kris wrote a blog for his sons...love letters of remembrance for them in later years and it totally inspired me to come back to my computer and try again. We always write for a particular audience. We always have someone in mind. I've got my daughter and a husband who I thank God for on the daily. So consider this my jump back into the water...for them...for posterity.


Picking the pen back up...







Little Sheroes: Potty-mouthed Princesses Rule

10.23.2014
Have you seen the potty-mouthed princesses yet? It's no secret among my friends and family that I'm super down with raising a strong, confident and intelligent little girl. (Oh, we're having a little girl bee tee dubs.)



Being that I'm scouring the interwebs for tiny feminism tees and hoodies you can imagine how much my butt twitches when some well-meaning spirit comes along and refers to my Ziggy as a little princess. Stop! Stop right there! PLEASE don't call her that! And PLEASE don't shove unnecessary image issues down her throat...she's just learning how to suckle right now for gosh sakes....it's only week 15.



I was sooo happy to see the potty-mouthed princess video yesterday. It warmed my heart and gave me fresh hope. This is THE best thing in the world. May not be suitable for work or small little ears, but the best messages never are xo...







Great Expectations: Our Itsy Bitsy

10.06.2014



Yep, we're expecting a little itsy bitsy April 2015!

Current thoughts: I'm a self-proclaimed tomboy...suddenly doing something uber girly. This ish is WEIRD! I've been super duper sick...like you can't imagine the hell that morning sickness truly is until you experience it. I swear I thought it was like a petite little puke in the morning and then I'd be fine...that I'd go about my day working and doing the stuff I see women doing while pregnant on tv. Wasn't my reality. Complete opposite, actually. How do women film movies in their first trimester?!!?! How do women work, period?!?! It's madness! Madness I say!

Speaking of movies and actors...I'm a wannabe actor with a huge dream...The first thing that shifted was my outlook on my dream. It's not that I've forgotten or want it any less, but I seriously had no problems pausing. I told my agent I needed to get through the morning sickness because auditions and headshot shoots were grueling. I didn't even cry typing her the email. It's weird how I've still managed to hold on to the essence of me and the person I want to be, yet still make room for a tiny. I was scared I'd be one of those self-absorbed mamas who blames her kids for her ruined dreams...or worse--a woman who forgets her dreams and takes on the title of motherhood like it's her new and only skin. Like I said...all kinds of thoughts happen; especially when all you do is lie on a couch willing the nausea away.

Life's gonna be so much more interesting with a little in the picture. Before I learned I was expecting I reached out to women I admire in the industry. The women were super kind and honest and positive. It was perfect timing...like I knew it would happen soon and I'd need to make sure my head was screwed on straight...that I was going in, eyes wide open. I can do this.

I'm feeling lucky I got Mark as a partner in crime. Dude's been super duper helpful. He is the family stone right now...making sure everything keeps moving since I ain't moving much at all.

...And if you were wondering about future writing...Pretty sure I'm not gonna be a mommy blogger. I'm not funny or girly enough to pull it off, but I can see myself checking in occasionally to write out all the feelings of being a mom and a dreamer.

Officially Scared Shitless,

Tish

Spagic I Say!

9.03.2014


Hey...

It's been awhile. I knew those spurts would come. I sit at least once a day and seriously shake my head. I wrote for years...so many posts; sometimes three posts a day and then Poof!, nada. I still don't know what happened. The art of sharing just ceased to thrill me like it used to. I always say if something absolutely wonderful happens I'll pick back up the pen (figuratively speaking) and share some goodness, but inspiration isn't what it used to be.

I was thumbing through drafts I never published and found these notes. Now THIS I knew I could share. No editing because I have no clue what I was going to do with these notes. Just bits from my wedding...which tickles me rotten. It's almost a year; but it feels like it was eons ago. I love remembering and reliving it all. Soon Mark and I will return to celebrate; part 1 of our first year anniversary. Everything about that day was magic. I'm hoping we'll show up and all our friends and family will be there to surprise us and share in the fun times again...

 "If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air...quaint little villages here and there..." 
 "At the River" , Groove Armada


First Dance = Pure Imagination (From Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory, but sung by The Cast of Glee.)

Quote on our CDs = "We are the makers of music. We are the dreamer of dreams." (A Willy Wonka quote.)

9.13.13 = Our wedding date and the official day fans celebrate Roald Dahl (Author of Willy Wonka, Matilda, James and the Giant Peach and other books I loved and adored as a child.)

I've always wanted the song, Pure Imagination. I kept it a secret for years so that people wouldn't jack my ish. Best song ever to slow dance to...I know this from personal, blissful experience.

Coincidences? Yes, crazily enough! It was just meant to be that Roald would be our theme for the Mish bash. Not sure if the guests caught onto that...You'd have to be a big super duper fan, but it was a fun little fact for Mark and I when we put all the pieces together. Thank you AMC channel for airing movies with directors' quotes; without which we would have never learned about Roald Dahl Day.

It didn't stop at the wedding, though. We found the Willy Wonka quote on a tree while on our Honeymoon in Maui. Spagic...when spooky and magic make a baby.

23 Thousand Breaths

8.14.2014
I was watching Long Island Medium (guilty pleasure) and a discussion about someone's last breath came up. I took to Google; curious to find out how many breaths we take in a day...in a year...in a lifetime. I'm morbidly inquisitive. Mark didn't even flinch when I told him how many breaths we take a day...he's used to randomly delicious "Rain Man" Tishy.

Apparently we take around 23,000 breaths a day. (More if you workout...so I'll add a thousand extra since I breath like an out-of-shape fool no matter what I do.)

All those breaths wrapped up in beautiful adventures. I'm thankful for all those breaths and all the memories with the friends.


A beautiful day to visit a country music exhibit.


Iconic photography


The heifa avoids the camera like a Kardashian avoids anonymity. 


I don't always see sheep, but when I do I think of best pal, Jenn. 


I heart country music. Well some...not all. The good old stuff. 


Think this might be Mark's first creeper, candid shot of me. I swooned. 


The Other Side

7.31.2014
I recently heard the phrase, "On the other side of heartache is wisdom," which resonated and continues to bubble around in my brain.

It soothes me a bit...and also makes me laugh a little under my breath at the Universe's sense of humor. I've often asked for wisdom; not really cognizant of the price one pays for the stuff. Nothing like a good dramatic moment to cement a good lesson in your brain. Nonetheless it's comforting to know that at the least there's a consolation prize.

I sat at a light today staring at this elegant, elderly woman at the bus stop. In her youth I wouldn't have given her much thought, but because of her age I sat in awe... "Oh the stories she could tell...the history behind those eyes." I love a good brain filled with wrinkled experiences.

This week I've added some wrinkles. Mixed blessings I tell ya...

I've been on avail for five days. Five.Whole.Days. I've learned what it really means to be on avail. I've learned what staring at a phone can do to a person. I've learned not to pick up every foreign call that pops up on your caller ID...your agent will make the call, fool!

On the other side of heartache lies wisdom.

*New Tunes

7.30.2014
*New for me anywho.

I recently caught up with an old friend who used to shower me with new tunes on the regular. We caught up for a bit and then got down to business. I've been on Sia's arse lately. Love her and her little dog, too! Sam Smith, Lana Del Rey and the Begin Again Soundtrack. So I shared that and he came back with The Lighthouse and the Whaler and Matt Pond. It was a good trade. I go through long bouts of listening to talk radio and then I come up for air and crave the good stuff. This is the good stuff.

The songs I'm diggin on the most:








Nine Years: Getting Closer

7.29.2014
Today, nine years ago I set out from Middle Earth and made my way to LA. Weirdness.

What?!

Those they people who you hear so much about always say that it takes ten years in this business to become an overnight success. The thought that I'm now a year away from that magical year has not gone unnoticed.

I shot a commercial...I'm on avail for another (meaning I've been waiting around with my fingers crossed for days...walking hurts at this point.) Stuff is happening in little tiny arse steps, but it's happening.

IF I'm still here this weekend (and not on set) then I'm going to try out a new acting class and catch a workshop. It's all incredibly terrifying but I have this nagging sense that I need to keep moving ahead; scary or not. I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing in this world. I still question if I have what it takes. I still feel like I bomb more auditions than I rock them. I think that's why nine years feels so weird...because I'm not this wise, awesome expert at this point. I still feel green as hell. For now I'm accepting that as a good thing. "Keeps me humble..."

Nine years... where did the time go?

Time Flies...

One Year
Five Years
Seven Years
Eight Years

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