Oh The Uncertainty!

Acting auditions suck balls lately.

I've gotten so close so many times lately. Callbacks happening...hope peaking to the point of blood vessel eye explosion....


Only in hindsight, Tish, will the miracles become obvious, will you see you were guided, and will you find there was order all along.

"Otherwise," as you once said, a long, long time ago, "it would all be too easy..."

We agreed,

The Universe

Okay Universe...I'm listening and waiting...and taking all of the beatings. I realize that standing in front of a fan that is blowing so hard on my face I have tears dripping is a part of this lifestyle I've chosen...but for the love of all things thespian, just hook me up with a simple time schedule!

All Her Beautiful Layers

Yesterday I logged onto facebook and saw that a social media friend of mine, Lorrie, had passed away. My heart dropped into my stomach. She was young. She was kind and full of life, creative and JUST HERE.

The wind was knocked out of me and I cried and cried and cried. I met her at the Dole Nutrition Summit two years ago and she just had one of those kind spirits that you can't help but flock to. We exchanged information and would tweet/email each other from time to time. She was so positive and joyful. When she asked if I would write about my life as an actor in Los Angeles I felt so honored.

Without even reading her husband's post on her blog I knew she was saying good bye to a whole lot of people she touched and inspired. Social media...it can create a lot of shallow weird drama, but it can also bring people together in really sweet ways. I'm glad I met her.

Lorrie suffered from cardiac arrest while working out at the gym. That circumstance hits near and dear to my heart because I knew how hard she was working towards making fitness a healthy habit. Her husband created a memorial fundraising page to honor her memory. Jersey and I plan to give and I hope you'll consider giving, too. She had just turned 30 on March 14th, the day after my birthday. (Too, too soon for her poor heart to stop.

Lorrie Fenn's American Heart Association Fundraising Page

This isn't enough...a post isn't enough to express just how deeply someone's passing can possibly mean, but I'm hoping contributing to an association that researches and pushes for precautions that will help folks like Lorrie is a start.

Play Sis


I wasn't prepared for my wedding dress brunch to be so emotional, but out came the tears multiple times. I asked my play sis, who happens to be a brilliant professor of public speaking, if she'd be our wedding officiant and she said yes. TEARS!

B told us some sweet details of her upcoming nuptials...the personal, sweet and endearing stuff that's both thoughtful and deep. TEARS!

I came home with black goop smudged all over my eyeballs. This is why you brunch. You test out the eyeballs for the big day. Waterproof everything needs to be smacked on my face that day. That I know for sure.

And then I Cried


J trying on bridesmaid dresses at Jcrew

I haven't had that much champagne ever...I was sippin on the stuff all weekend long including at the Dry Bar when we were getting our hair did.

So many fun things to look at while getting one's hair styled. 

Champagne before wedding dress shopping

Brunch after finding my dress...which I so carefully named Scarlett. She's a beauty.

So J came to visit so that we could do wedding dress shopping. I swear I've been going through the motions of planning this wedding. I've said multiple times I think of it as just a grand party so I was way more excited to play with her than do the actual wedding stuff, but boy did wedding stuff change the game this weekend!

J came and we worked out together and we had girl time and everything was chill and perfect, but Saturday morning came and my nerves went berserk. I couldn't eat, my nerves were shot and the minute I went into her room I started crying. It hit me...all of it. The years and years of coming to J with all my boy troubles and her always listening as I cried my eyes out, sobbing and snotting into the phone and now all of a sudden I was shopping for a dress and she was gonna be there to nod yes. 

It's happening...I'm not by any means going to start treating this darn wedding like it's supposed to be the event of the year, but it's definitely sinking in that it's special and that I am going to lose it out there, with my best pal (the girl I've called my friend since we were 14) there by my side. 

First Time


Jersey and I recently found ourselves back at the same spot we had our first date/outing/meeting together. The whole story of our eventual relationship is weird so forgive me for not knowing what the heck to call that damn thing.

Any who, he was new to LA so I took him to the best burger joint I knew of. Russell's is this charming diner in  Old Town Pasadena. There's beautiful art hanging on the wall, chandeliers, classical music and THE best messiest big ole fat and juicy hamburgers.

We arrived and the host sat us down in the same booth we first sat in. We've been back countless times after that, but never in that same booth. For some reason it took us both back to that first time and we were squealing and getting sentimental like two sappy school girls.

I swear if Jersey had said that first day that the burgers were just aight I wouldn't be here typing to you about how much I love him for turning into a sappy school girl. It's that deep, y'all.

So High


Sometimes you just need to jump.

Help I'm Alive


 I sat in my car; parked in a busy West Hollywood parking lot and listened to this song by Metric and laughed to myself. First of all I have no idea how the CD got into my player, but it was so perfectly on point. 

I tremble, they're gonna eat me alive
If I stumble they're gonna eat me alive
Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer?
Beating like a hammer

Last night I attended an event at Kinara Spa in WeHo for Travaasa resorts. I was asked to go through my connections with Fit Bottomed Girls so I assumed it was fitness related. (Hey, I assumed because athletes need damn good massages if they want to stay in the game for a long period of time...but I assumed wrong.) Because of that silly assumption I showed up in pigtail braids, jeans and a blazer (my signature look.) When I entered I saw, glamours cocktail dresses for days. #1 fail, Tishy: never look like a bumpkin when the event is at night (cocktain hours) in Hollywood. 

The first celebrity I spotted was pregnant Ali Landry in a stunning frock and I knew I'd need to kick myself in the butt once the eyes in the room moved on. The ONLY woman of color, the ONLY bumpkin...doh doh doh! I stuck out like a sore thumb, but I was determined not to be a punk and leave. 

I found the PR chick who had invited me and made friendly with some fellow bloggers, but then they bounced and I went and got a drink BY MYSELF. That's when I met a guy who asked what I was there for. I said I was a writer and then he said he was in TV. (My inner actor started squealing to be calm...big honchos from Hollywood HATE little fish actors.) 

Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft, tough to be tender
Come take my pulse, the pace is on a runaway train

We then talked food for awhile. The food there was AMAZING. I'm hoping to write something up on it for Fit Bottomed Eats (FBGs newest baby) so I'll stay mum on the goods, BUT it was really good. To the point where my eyes rolled back and my Mr. Hollywood TV pal was laughing at me. Then he asked me what I did when I wasn't writing and I paused...the moment of the truth. Talk about my day time job and possibly miss an opportunity for a moment of magic or spill the beans. I spilled the beans and told him I was an actor. 

I could feel the energy blow right on out of our little circle. He dabbled in conversation with me for a bit longer, but then moved on. No magic moment this time.

If my life is mine what shouldn't I do?
I get wherever I'm going, I get whatever I need

I then had nobody else to chat with and thus started feeling more and more awkward. I sipped on my alcohol in a corner alone...then tried to quietly sneak out, but the PR chick saw me and asked if I'd like to steal Ali's massage appointment she had booked...which I totally did lol and it was FABULOUS (go to Brenda if you ever want the best massage of your life!) and then I snuck out like a little plain Jane mouse guilty of taking a pregnant woman's appointment.

On the way out of the parking garage, Steve-O from Jack Ass almost hit me with his car. I have no idea what kind of sign that was, but I laughed to myself...mainly out of strange coincidence, but also because his "Oopsies hee hee" face was adorably hilarious.

So yeah...Hollywood was close and yet so far away...AGAIN. These sorts of circumstances I keep finding myself in are hilarious. I have NO clue what to make of them, but on I keep pushing...I'm still alive.

ps. I got a callback on this AMAZING national commercial that would have plastered my face (and VOICE!) all over the nation...but didn't get the job. Gotta keep that head up...even when you're swimming in the lake, flippin fins with all those who have made it. 

Face Rank


Reputation is an idle and most false imposition;
oft got without merit,
and lost without deserving.
--Othello (Iago, Act II, scene iii)

When I was a kid I read this book called Remember Me that changed the way I looked at the world...a dang young adult, teeny bopper book, yep. Sure did.

Not War and Peace. Not Shakespeare....nope. And now that same snazzy book gravitational pull has led me to a new favorite that's changed the way I see the world. 

Two of my favorite people recommended I read The Uglies series, which I've mentioned before. The final book Extras struck a chord that vibrated hours upon finishing. Without giving too much away it's basically a story that looks at social media and its affect on society. What we value...what we pay attention to...how we think and act. I love when science fiction exposes how the world currently is. The author painted this radical world with people living oh-so-closely to our reality. 

Being that I'm a blogger I fall prey to the insecurities and the research. I know what my blog currently ranks on BlogLovin. (It's not pretty.) I've caught myself posting Instagram pictures that I hope will be liked...I want followers on twitter. It's just odd when you remove yourself from the bubble and look around. It's all so silly. 

I went and got my nails done yesterday and much to my surprise sat down right beside Octavia Spencer. I geeked and drooled more than I care to share. So close...a "famous" person right there and there I was, little ole insignificant Tishy. The owner of the salon came over to Ms. Spencer to talk about her fame (which embarrassed the crap out of the actor I think) and then the owner walked over to me and asked if I was famous, too. I smiled and said, "Not yet," which caused everyone in close proximity to neck jerk. 

It was weird saying that in public. We do things with our social media sites so that we'll be seen and acknowledged, but yet we're not supposed to admit that we want the social love. It's a fine line; connection and love. When certain people ignore something I've posted I get butt hurt. The same goes with twitter..and my blog. 

Before social media you'd see bathroom graffiti "I was here"...we're all trying to leave our mark, but boy does it cause some drama in the process. Still trying to wrap my brain around all of this. 

A Perfect Weekend Away


A Monterey Weekend

This past weekend Jersey and I headed up to Northern California to check out our wedding venue, meet with some local vendors and do all of that big kid stuff. 

Everything was all theory and kid's play until our wedding coordinator let me walk the path I'd take to the alter...I started tearing up immediately. After we were done with our meetings Jersey and I sat beside each other in the car and exhaled slowly; knowing full well we were both feeling the same. 

It's so easy to pick and click when it's through your computer.We became a new kind of big kid this weekend. Down the rabbit hole we go...

Wall Whisperers

Wall Whisperers are what I call my acting brethren and girlthren. Whenever I go to auditions I see a line of people facing walls; talking to the paint.

It's been this way since I was a kid in forensics. We do that. It's our thing. The kid who auditioned with me as my son got a kick out of the term so I thought I'd share my lingo. Figure you can't go wrong with having creating a language for your love. Shakespeare did it after all!

You'll see some interesting stuff...

Who Could Ask For Anything More

Yesterday was such a good birthday. Jersey did some pretty darn sweet things throughout the day. My nearest and dearest friends sent so much love I thought my phone was going to explode with awesomeness. (You have no idea how much I love having video capabilities on my iPhone!) I just felt calm, loved and happy.

I actually worked. There was nothing I really felt like doing on a Wednesday work day alone...not even the hint of a spa day could deter me from my wedding saving mentality so I sat at my computer all day doing my thug thizzle and then I went to an audition. BEST BIRTHDAY ACTIVITY EVER!!!

I arrived at the spot and immediately thought my agent was tripping again, but then the casting fella came out and started giving his spiel about what the client was looking for and it was all me and a bag of chips so I perked up quick. Then I got paired with the perfect son and husband who could act their little butts off and life got better. THEN they told us we'd be family #13 and life went from better to "HOLY HAIRY BALLS OF AWESOME SAUCE, THE UNIVERSE LOVES ME!" I thanked the Big Guy Upstairs for sending me little signs to remain comfortable in my own skin.

I went into that room and rocked the scene. The casting guy took time in between each take to work with the actors and give them tips to fix the scene. Each time he told me I was nailing it. Good sign!

I left the audition with my scene husband. We walked down the street; excitement bursting from our strides and discussed how it went. It felt good to do well. No matter what I felt like I did a damn good job. They started calling in Asian families and Latino families after us so it'll all depend on the demographic they end up wanting to market to but I know I gave it all of me.

I'm cool with that. I'm cool with the audition. I'm cool with the wonderful fella snoring quietly beside me and I'm cool with this wonderful Magic Johnson birthday. (32 if you didn't catch that.) I'm happy...honest to goodness happy. I'm glad I'm here in Los Angeles, pursuing my dream and marrying a good man. It's a crazy arse adventure, but it's mine.

"Who could ask for anything more..."

What Matters Most


Dude! Jersey and I set up a savings account the week after we got engaged. The sweet little money fairies sent me this for my birfday, which I thought was a beautiful and perfect message for all. 

Figured I should share. You're welcome. 

Premarital Counseling and Purpling

So I may have jumped the gun a bit on that premarital counseling. Last night Jersey and I attended a preliminary meeting to go over the types of counseling a couple can do. So no tests or hour-long forms just yet. Oops. I panicked and freaked (heathen-style) for NUFFIN!

Have I ever told y'all about Jersey's goodie goodie two-shoes ways? He's a church boy...a very endearing church boy. We're doing a destination wedding that involves a beach and no priest so I felt it would be sweet to at least give him something churchy he can associate with us tying the knot. Thus a weekend retreat with a whole lot of lovely, sweet, wholesome Catholics will happen sometime this summer. Am I nervous? Yes! Jersey and I have lived in sin for a long time now. I felt guilty just putting "same address" on our forms! The shame! The scarlet letters!!!

All he's told me so far is we'll be going to Santa Barbara and we'll have to stay in separate quarters; the men will all bunk together and the girls will do the same on the pink side of the place. NO PURPLING ALLOWED!

I didn't know this but J and her now husband took the "Catholic Test" as I like to call it. They scored a really high compatible number...somewhere in the high 90's. For some reason I don't think we'll score as high in this area. While I'm a hippie liberal, Jersey's a tid bit more goodie good aka conservative. For instance I can talk all day long about how it was wrong of the Pope to turn the other cheek (no pun intended) as little boys got poked in the butt. He tends to look at me, sweat, shake his head, mumble and say ten Hail Marys directed towards my heathen mouth. Do I know we're gonna score something worthy of an eye bulge? Yep. Do I think it will pop our wonderful little love bubble? Nope.

While I do attend church with the fella when he goes to Saint Monica's (a BEAUTIFUL and might I add progressive church down in Santa Monica) he doesn't knock me for skipping out when he goes to the boring church down the street from us. (If I fall asleep what's the point of going?!) I love that he's a faithful fella. I think religion can be a beautiful and helpful tool. I definitely wouldn't mind my children having something positive in their life...I just never had the churchy gene and I don't like it very much when people try to force feed me the ish. I'm spiritual, but that's about it for me. Jersey allows me to be me. So he passes MY test.

Still I can't help but be curious to see how we'll score. He schedules "the event" tomorrow. To be continued...

Supporting the Fem

This is my birfday week. I'm turning 32.

For some reason I'm not really feeling very party party (Love Actually reference!) this year. I want to keep it simple and sweet so Jersey and I are going to drive up the coast and spend some time getting our chill on.

Is this what getting older does to you?

I'm sort of cheating, though. My bestie and my play sis are coming to Los Angeles to go dress shopping with me in two weeks. Four of us will be waltzing into a boutique and hopefully leaving with the perfect Tishy dress. Fingers crossed. I'm excited! I'm going to treat the ladies to a delightful lady-like brunch and have fun being feminine and delicate...well as feminine as the likes of me can be.

 I have girly ideas and I'm not afraid to use them.

You Don't Know Jack?!


I'm finding out it's pretty rare to have a friend in your life who will always chirp back to you, "Sure! Why not!" and mean it.

Do you have a friend who is always down for trying something new? I was asked to do a 10k TWO days before the race and so I called up my gal pal Jack and asked her if she'd be willing to come out and run. Mind you I knew she wasn't training for anything...that running six miles was the farthest thing from her mind. I totally expected her to laugh at me and refuse, but she was totally gung ho. Everyone else declined...

So with time change and all, we woke at the butt crack of dawn and ran a little over six miles. Note: we were going to walk the dang thing, but the weather was so perfect; we just couldn't resist. It was amazing out there. The cold ocean breeze was blowing, the sun was shining...it was breathtaking. 

I'll write more about the actual race on Fit Bottomed Girls soon. This post is about Jack anyways. Today is her birthday so it's fitting that I write about her. She's the friend I can always count on. The one with the heart of gold. I'll never take advantage of the fact that she'll never pass a chance to try...to experience and to grow. I'll never ask the impossible...just publicly declare that she's a good egg. And I'm glad she's around to run by my side.

Happy Birthday Jack!

The Word If Doesn't Exist in My World

...Nothing's gonna change my world.

I catch myself correcting people all the time.

"If you make it Tish..."

"No, you mean WHEN I make it."

"Oh yeah, when you make it..." (chuckle, sarcasm)

You have to be pretty darn hardheaded to keep at this stuff as long as I have. While working today I had a flashback to Jr. High...sweeping the kitchen floor and dreaming about the day I'd be cleaning my own kitchen, but as an honest-to-goodness real actor. Through the years I'll come back to that kitchen moment. I'll be cleaning something and smile to myself...still cleaning...still dreaming...for the love of GOD still hoping.

Some of those smile attempts are harder than others. Both auditions from last week required a weekend waiting period. I wouldn't find out about either until the Tuesday after. That Tuesday I went about my day, but every once in awhile I'd stop and make a wish, "Please, please PLEASE let me book one of those jobs!"

But I never got the phone call.

I wonder how close I am to making it. Jersey's talking about buying a home and having kids and I wonder if he'll start to resent my dreams and how unable I am to wish for anything else until I get that one. While I want children and a home I'm suffering from tunnel vision. I have both eyes and my heart set on one thing and one thing only...The fact that my personal life and my dream could possibly collide is a scary subject lately. I can't even think about it for long without shutting down. I'm too afraid of a possible scenario. The other day I read this great piece about Ang Lee...figured I'd share the hope and spirit I found. For all my fellow dreamers out there with families:

Ang Lee: A Never-Ending Dream

"In 1978, as I applied to study film at the University of Illinois, my father vehemently objected. He quoted me a statistic: ‘Every year, 50,000 performers compete for 200 available roles on Broadway.’ Against his advice, I boarded a flight to the U.S. This strained our relationship. In the two decades following, we exchanged less than a hundred phrases in conversation. Some years later, when I graduated film school, I came to comprehend my father’s concern. It was nearly unheard of for a Chinese newcomer to make it in the American film industry. Beginning in 1983, I struggled through six years of agonizing, hopeless uncertainty. Much of the time, I was helping film crews with their equipment or working as editor’s assistant, among other miscellaneous duties. My most painful experience involved shopping a screenplay at more than thirty different production companies, and being met with harsh rejection each time. That year, I turned 30. There’s an old Chinese saying: ‘At 30, one stands firm.’ Yet, I couldn't even support myself. What could I do? Keep waiting, or give up my movie-making dream? My wife gave me invaluable support. My wife was my college classmate. She was a biology major, and after graduation, went to work for a small pharmaceutical research lab. Her income was terribly modest. At the time, we already had our elder son, Haan, to raise. To appease my own feelings of guilt, I took on all housework – cooking, cleaning, taking care of our son – in addition to reading, reviewing films and writing scripts. Every evening after preparing dinner, I would sit on the front steps with Haan, telling him stories as we waited for his mother – the heroic huntress – to come home with our sustenance (income). This kind of life felt rather undignified for a man. At one point, my in-laws gave their daughter (my wife) a sum of money, intended as start-up capital for me to open a Chinese restaurant – hoping that a business would help support my family. But my wife refused the money. When I found out about this exchange, I stayed up several nights and finally decided: This dream of mine is not meant to be. I must face reality. Afterward (and with a heavy heart), I enrolled in a computer course at a nearby community college. At a time when employment trumped all other considerations, it seemed that only a knowledge of computers could quickly make me employable. For the days that followed, I descended into malaise. My wife, noticing my unusual demeanor, discovered a schedule of classes tucked in my bag. She made no comment that night. The next morning, right before she got in her car to head off to work, my wife turned back and – standing there on our front steps – said, ‘Ang, don’t forget your dream.’ And that dream of mine – drowned by demands of reality – came back to life. As my wife drove off, I took the class schedule out of my bag and slowly, deliberately tore it to pieces. And tossed it in the trash. Sometime after, I obtained funding for my screenplay, and began to shoot my own films. And after that, a few of my films started to win international awards. Recalling earlier times, my wife confessed, ‘I’ve always believed that you only need one gift. Your gift is making films. There are so many people studying computers already, they don’t need an Ang Lee to do that. If you want that golden statue, you have to commit to the dream.’ And today, I’ve finally won that golden statue. I think my own perseverance and my wife’s immeasurable sacrifice have finally met their reward. And I am now more assured than ever before: I must continue making films. You see, I have this never-ending dream."

Perfect in its Flaws

Yesterday I took my engagement ring back to the jeweler's to get re-sized. (Tishy has some chubby 6 1/2 sized fingers!) It was so sweet walking in and hearing the folks tell stories of when Jersey came in to pick out the ring. They made my cheeks flush and my heart burst a bit. I've gotten so into the humdrum of wedding planning I totally forgot about that sweet time window when Jersey was plotting his surprise. The sweet nerves he so carefully hid from me. Thinking about it has me cooing like a dang bird.

After the stories, one of the gentlemen jewelers took me to a microscope where he showed me my ring's characteristics so I'd be able to see it was the same ring when I picked it up. There's this beautiful string of bubbles across the center. Almost like a shooting star. Yeah, they're something a rich snooty person would probably gasp and call a 'flaw', but I fell more in love with my ring after seeing its trademark...its own little birth mark. Made it practically perfect in every way.

Lucille is a unique little thang! (That's my ring's name for the newbies.) I can't wait to get her back on my finger. Weird, but I feel like my ring is a part of me now. My inner feminist just screamed at me, "NoooOOOOooO!" but I can't help it. It's just a sweet reminder that a cute, sweet man once asked me if I'd like to go steady...FOR EVER VER.

FIDM Museum Day


On Saturday afternoon a friend and I took a little trip downtown to the FIDM Museum to take a look at their latest exhibit: Art of Motion Picture Costume Design.

Check the pictures one more time...costumes seem to be lacking, right? You can't shoot any of the costumes. I was annoyed, but whatever. Someday I'll watch the movies and snap the costumes that way. How about 'dem apples?!

Poppy Monroe


On Sunday I woke up early and headed south to meet a very important new person in the world--Poppy Monroe. Her mama is a good friend of my cousins who I met a couple of years ago. We've casually stayed in touch through facebook, but then she became a holistic nutritionist and I fell in love with her meal plans. Then she met and married her true love and I fell deeper in love with her rosy disposition. Poppy's the icing on that love cake.

I knew the minute Emma said she was pregnant that she was carrying a special one. I don't know how, but I just connected to that little one and the minute she was born I knew I'd need to put on my big girl panties and drive down to see her. (She lives kinda far.) Poppy was asleep when I first came over, but my bratty butt just had to wake her up...had to see those old-soul eyes. This child isn't even a month old and she smiles and beams when her momma talks to her. She is expressive and inquisitive. You can tell she's thinking mighty hard up in her little noggin.

I swear I felt a strong pull to bring this child gifts and just sit in her presence. I went to Barnes and Noble and parked myself in the kid's section looking for the perfect books for her and then I felt this pull to wrap her gifts in yellow. Turns out it's Poppy's signature color for beautiful, personal reasons. I love me some babies. I've surrounded myself with children my whole life. I love them all for different reasons. I love Poppy for her magic. This kid is plum full of love. I feel great things will come from and to that beautiful spirit.

Harlem Shake

Okay...I'm obsessed with the Harlem Shake videos. I've joined the madness.

A friend on facebook made this for me. (Make sure you watch the right side of my page and scroll down.)

Luv & Kiwi does the Harlem Shake

My gal pal Laura's take on the Harlem Shake.

My beloved KU Jayhawks

Speaking Ugly | Envisioning Pretty

I'm in the final book of The Uglies series and I'm loving how much social commentary can be pulled out of its pages. That's what I love about books such as these. Much like the Hunger Games, I see a lot of our twisted society in these books...They show dramatic examples of the directions we're headed in.

This book makes me chuckle every time I post a tweet.

One of my favorite couples on the planet recommended I read this one so now whenever I share my thoughts on the chapter I've finished I get "Ugly-Speak" back...Everything is ugly-making. (You have to read to figure out what the heck I mean by that.) Jersey looks at us like we're crazy, but I care not. This book brings out the geek in me with a vengeance.

I stick the book in my bag and take it everywhere with me. My nail lady is running thirty minutes late...no problem!!! Totally bubbly-making.

Life's been so serious lately. So many big kid decisions...I need these YA books to keep me balanced in kidult world. I'm currently in the planning stages of the only part of the wedding planning I have any expertise in--the engagement shoot. It's gonna be epic, yo! I figure since I'm making such a big to-do about the whole shebang we'll order some prints and blow that ish up and put it on an empty wall in our home.

Now if Jersey can just handle the guest list, reception, ceremony and all that weird, foreign and stressful ish I'll be just dandy.

In my former life I had to have had folks who did this sort of thing for me because I have no desire to execute events in my life...I come up with the grandiose visions and expect for someone to step in and make it happen. I need a good firm kick in the pants, but no one's stepping up to my butt soooo...

So spoiled I shall remain. Envisioning I shall keep doing.
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