Sharing is Caring

6.17.2014
I am experiencing the weirdest shift...I can't pinpoint the exact moment when writing and sharing started to unnerve me, but it has. I've been writing this blog for almost nine years now. During the really open years I could post multiple times a day, every day of the week. Now I'm lucky if I feel like sharing once a week.

I'm not sure if "you" are still out there...the you I've written to all of these years, but if you are then I wonder if you've noticed the decline. It's not that life has gotten rotten or that I've lost my ability to find joy in Life's everyday miracles. I just lost the need/want/desire to share. It's a profound shift, too. My need to blog was void of narcissism. It was actually a sincere desire to connect. I think it's a kind and very brave thing...sharing your thoughts, days, joys, mistakes and heart aches with others. The "you're not alone" moments were there to help people start conversations and open up. Except somewhere along the way I lost the connections part and the joy I got from the relationships I formed through writing fell to the side. I'm looking back at my years of blogging and I wonder if that whole is greater than the sum of its parts. What the hell does Luv and Kiwi mean to anyone? Can you believe this is my first time questioning blogging? I know; even I'm surprised.

It's odd that for so long I felt compelled to share...there was always something to write about; always something to describe... And beyond that: I was nosy and curious about others. My morning started out with 20 plus blogs that I had to read. Now I may browse some blogs every couple of weeks. It's odd that my interests have shifted.

I find myself turning inside out...I've become a special kind of recluse. I'm not scared, but boy is it weird. I can feel the changes. I can't explain them. I can't say what I'm transitioning into, but I know my spirit is altering. I've been a people person for such a long time...discovering that I'm not even all that interested in the stories of others...which for me, naturally leads to disinterest in my own stories...well it's a weird place to be in.

The old me is looking at this new me with a gaping, flabbergasted open mouth. "Who are you?!" Some day I'll stop being lazy and and answer that question. I have a strong inclination that the answer won't be published.




Who Runs the World?

6.16.2014
This made me laugh and then sigh...Oh how I wish it were true.



Gone Fishin

6.06.2014
I am officially MIA.

I shall be binging on Orange is the New Black if you need me. Luckily there are pause options so I shouldn't have yellow tv tinted 'tan' on Monday morning.

Last year I was watching this lovely madness around the time of my bachelorette party so I had all of my favorite women folk in one room watching, guffawing, gasping and laughing together. It was sort of the perfect storm. I shall be sentimental for a brief moment when I hit play, but I'm pretty sure the story lines will help ease the pains.

Happy watching fellow fans!

What Kills Me...

6.04.2014
"What kills me makes me feel alive" ~ One Republic

Ain't that the truth when pursuing your dream?! I swear everything that has anything to do with change, growth..."getting it" requires mini panic attacks in my kingdom of neurotic.

I had a meeting with my agent this morning and I swear, you would have thought I was meeting my executioner the way I felt pre-chat fest. I had nervous waves sloshing around in my belly...I felt like I might possibly destroy my pants (too much info? do you know me at all?!) I cried TWICE on the drive there...couldn't sleep last night at all. You catch my drift? I was a hot mess. I feared I'd walk in; she'd stop me before I could even sit down and tell me that the agency no longer wanted to represent my unproductive behind and I'd be forced to throw my body into Hollywood traffic. Getting stomped on by fake Spidermen and Marilyn Monroes aren't my cup of tea.

Meeting went completely opposite of that.

She hugged me upon walking in; sat me down in her office (yeah!) and then proceeded to tell me I'm doing well; that my percentage of getting callbacks is awesome...I just have to work on bookings. She also told me what I needed to do in order to start going out for TV and film roles. Boom.

It's not easy and no one can be sure it will lead to work, but it's time to try everything. It's time to shake things up so hard that I'm centimeters away from crapping my pants and blowing mad chunks. It's time to feel alive; something I haven't felt in quite some time.

Luckily, I have a supportive partner in crime who's down for helping me do this thing. It's going to require time and money and lots of understanding. Geez, I feel lucky I married the dude I married! He has my back. Such a tiny sentence with profound, life-changing significance.

I have a lot of neurotic conversations with myself regarding acting. I'll get really jazzed about doing whatever it takes to make the dream happen and then my pride will kick in and I'll feel terrible that I have to do all of this 'extra' while other folks literally get discovered and thrown into films like it's the easiest scenario in the world. It's time to just focus on my own path. I'm not the overnight success. I've been at this for almost nine years (come July 29th) and the only thing that's changed is the number of grey hairs sprouting homes on my head. I'm still just as hungry if not more so it's time to focus.

I refuse to be a broken record. New tune time. I'm ready. I'm down.

One Thing At a Time

6.02.2014
"One thing at a time with deep breaths between them."

...that's the advice my mom gave me today. I'm just having one of those really challenging big kid days. Being a responsible adult with dreams can be so taxing. I feel like I'm coming down with something...either that or the weight of all these stressful worries I carry around are becoming too tangible for my body to handle.

I'm stuck in a really weird land of limbo. I have a full time job, but I'm still clinging to my dream of being an actor....that means I'm trying to remain under the radar; trying to keep my head down; trying to do my work well, because I want to be able to leave the durn thing when acting comes calling...because hopefully it comes calling!

I spent the weekend up north in Sacramento with my play sister and was fortunate enough to spend time with her and her mother on Saturday afternoon. We sipped iced peach Arnold Palmers and talked shop about the world of acting. (Michele's mama is a thespian among many other wonderful things.)

Turns out her mama has lots of wonderful stories and a passion for seeing those stories in print...possibly on TV. She looked at me with mischievous eyes while coyishly telling Michele I'd be an excellent choice to play her. So...they're working on a treatment for a television show they plan to pitch. And it's a great story, ya'll!

Wouldn't that be something? I was touched...What an honor! What a dream!

That conversation is what kept me from crying today when work became too much to handle. I'm holding on to threads...but boy are they beautiful.


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