Our Town

This is a re-post of my Myspace blog. For those of you who don't do the Myspace thing or follow my little blog in other ways, here it is in all its glory. :)

I was just fortunate enough to score a ticket to one of Chicago's smash hits, Our Town. Yes, Our Town, by Thornton Wilder. Many of you remember having to see a dreadful production, or read it in school or, heavens forbid, be a part of some tragic production.

I, however, have always had a different view of this play. My first introduction to it was when I was 12. I read a scene from it in one of my first scene-study classes. I was fortunate enough to have an amazing teacher who understood what this play was about. She understood what the play was really saying, not what some sad and pathetic director was trying to say. I walked away thinking, "I should read that play". Which I didn't get around to until I was 15.

I went to an arts high school and was introduced to the Spalding Gray movie, Monster in a Box, where herecounts his experience doing Our Town on Broadway. We then watched this version and it was both moving and lovely.

College, well, I watched a bunch of college-kids trying desperately to portray the depth and breadth needed to really fill out these characters, but only a few actually hitting a place of emotional truth.

Then Chicago's own David Cromer decides to direct this award-winning play. With the help of an exquisite cast, he is easily doing exactly what this play calls for. By showing us what we need to hear and setting up our imaginations, we can't help but fall desperately in love with these characters and recognize ourselves in their successes and flaws. Nothing was missed. This is an exceptional show. A beautiful success and, dammit, I'm glad to be alive today.

Bravo, Hypocrites and David Cromer for an amazing depiction of life and what we miss in our mundane every day moments. How fleeting they are.

Thank you for the opportunity to have experienced it.

Peace, and I love you all.

If you believe the good...

I have a wonderful teacher who often muses, "If you believe the good criticism, you have to also believe the bad." I appreciate this because I feel as though, even in its sardonic nature, the wisdom behind it is of creating balance. I often seek balance and then often fuck it up, royally, by not maintaining this balance. I know, I know, it's a baby-step process. BUT, I had a small epiphany about this balance today and I wanted to share!

I've often said that when traumatic things happen in my life it takes me longer to process and then respond than most "normal" people. I have a "cat-like-state-of-readiness" in my ability to deal with a crisis. I can shove away any bad/sad/frustrated feelings and just deal with the task at hand. But, when the crisis is over/averted and we come back to stasis, that's when I usually fall to pieces. My family knows this and my friends know this.

So. Doesn't it seem logical that I would realize that when GOOD things happen to me I would respond in the same way? When I'm given a day off or get cast in a show or feel good about my performance that- until all the fanfare has died down and we've returned to stasis- that's when I begin to feel good again?

Interestingly enough. No. It never did occur to me. Until today. So, Ted, in your infinite wisdom about critics: I believe my response to the good will be in proportion to my response to the bad and happen after the normal person would have responded.

Now that I've learned this interesting fact about myself, I feel like I have the power to change it. I don't always enjoy the fact that I'm somewhat of a freak of nature in a situation and feel tension and sadness far longer than I probably should and then have to hide, said feelings, because if I showed how I felt I'd seem crazy. As a matter of fact, it would be something to aspire to actually feel the feelings I'm feeling when I'm feeling them, express those feelings, and then poof! They're gone! Like fully expressed feelings. No guilt. No worry. Just feel it. Express it. And move on.

A life without guilt.

Yup that's a life to strive towards. (Don't mistake a life without guilt as a life without responsibility and consequences. These are not the same)

Anyhow. That's the love I have to share. Going to spend some time with Sparky and read a book that has nothing to do with school whatsoever! Smiles all around.

Love to you all!

What would happen if...?

I've been going about life all wrong, I think. For a long time, as long as I can remember, I've been beating myself up (consciously and unconsciously) for feeling things. I've judged my feelings, my reactions to those feelings, my inability to fix my feelings and/or my reactions to those feelings. Plus, I've made myself sick over not "getting over" my problems at a "reasonable" time.

Yeah.

I'm done with that.

First, I'm done judging how I feel. Seriously, if I've learned anything it's that we all HAVE these feelings. Mad, glad, sad, scared and all the squishy ones in between are part of our humanity. They are part of me. They are also my life-line to making me a good actor. Without them, or without one of them, I am less balanced. I am not a whole person. I can't just take the good and say "screw the bad". Rarely will you ever find a back without a front. A top without a bottom. A good without an evil, and so on. But, if I take away the opinion, the "bad vs. good" judgment, they all just become feelings or thoughts or situations.

So.

I'm beginning an experiment. I am going to try to look at the things I do as an experiment. "What would happen if...".

So. Rather than decide what will happen because it seems like I KNOW what would happen because it's happened that way before, or kind of like that before...maybe I need to change MY response and find out "what would happen if".

Example:

My parents plan a family vacation to Arizona. The premise is my sister-in-law's entire family is planning to be there for Thanksgiving and it would be so cool if we all joined them. I'm not close with them, but I am very attached to my family and enjoy seeing my nephews and my brother on these rare, but usually enjoyable family occasions.

The problem:
My uncle (my father's brother) lives there. Due to unforeseen circumstances (originally he was supposed to be somewhere else for Thanksgiving), he is no longer going out of town and plans to attend our family event. My uncle and I have a very bad history. In the past I endured his presence in my life because I loved and respected my Grandmother (his mother) too much to cause her any pain. I sacrificed my own comfort and well-being just to make it comfortable for the extended family (his kids and his girlfriend of 15 years) to not have to deal with the embarrassment it would cause my uncle if I outed his disgusting actions to the rest of the family. (For the record, my parents, my brother and sister-in-law DO know and still chose to communicate and spend time with him).

But. My Grandma is dead. There is no need to protect her any longer. Nor do I feel the need to play charades any more. Since it's his city, I cannot tell my uncle to leave. So, the only thing I can do is not play the game. I can NOT go. Does it suck? Yes. Do I resent the HELL out of my family for keeping his secret and protecting him? Yes. Can I change their actions? No. No I cannot. I can only change mine. (Cliche, I know, but in this case it's the truth).

So. I gear up to have the fight with my mom that I know will happen because I'm going to tell her I don't wanna go. We have the fight. She plays the martyr card and says we'll all stay home because she just doesn't want to deal with it. I get guilt-ridden and tell her I'm not saying that. On and on and on. Finally we table it for another day.

Another day comes. I approach it differently. Instead of gearing up for a fight, I decide I know what I want and unless the situation has changed (he has decided to go out of town, for example) I do not feel the need to go. I calmly state that I love my family and that I hope my love has been evident over the years. I also explain that for the little vacation time I am getting from school I do not wish to use my vacation as a game of "let's avoid the uncle and not have a panic attack". I also explain that my feelings may be strong but they are valid and I deserve to avoid possibly getting hit by the train by just not standing on the tracks.

As I calmly and rationally laid out my reasons, I imagined my muscles staying loose, my jaw releasing and my breathing stable.

An amazing thing happened, my wonderful mother was quiet and calmly said back to me, "Ali, you're right. You need to do what is going to make you happy."

You bet your ass I breathed a sigh of relief and then cried after I hung up the phone. But I responded to the "I wonder what would happen if" I just calmly say, NO. I said no, and kept my self-respect, not my guilt-ridden sacrifice.

Do I wish things could be different? Absolutely. But I don't feel like a victim in this. I took some power back. Finally.

So. What would happen if I actually allowed myself to really fucking cry about how I feel my ex hurt me and took away my dog and used him as a means to hurt me? What if I actually allowed myself to FEEL sad about the sad things rather than believe I should "be over them already" since it's been two years and I should have moved on by now? What if I actually took a long hard look at how he treated me and realized that I truly may have a case of Stockholm syndrome since I, to this day, defend many of his undefendable actions? What if I just feel the damned feelings and stop judging how I feel about them, for once?

Maybe a little peace?

Maybe a little destruction?

Maybe no change?

Maybe.

One thing is for sure, I'll certainly be going about it at an angle I didn't see coming from before. Maybe a little more conscious. Maybe a bit less judgmental.

Something other than pretending the feelings don't exist would be preferable, I believe. So, let's see what will happen.

I'll keep you posted.

Love to all of you,
Ali

TRON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS MUST BE IN CAPS! YES IT MUST! IF YOU HAVE ANY CHILDHOOD SOUL AND REMEMBER DISNEY'S TRON WITH, YES, THE BELOVED JEFF BRIDGES THEN YOU

MUST.

WATCH.

THIS.

VIDEO.

NOW...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DTD_Ej-oPSw

THAT IS ALL, DEAR FRIENDS.

THAT IS ALL.

(If this link doesn't work, try googling TR2N. Disney isn't necessarily going to make this movie. They brought it to Comic Con to see if it generated interest! HOLY CRAP MAKE THIS MOVIE!)

Pardon me, are those your nuts on my arm?

The CTA. We take it because we have to. Sometimes it's the difference between a $12.00 cab ride and a $2.00 crammed, crappy, smelly, awful, homeless-begging, iPod-wearing, sick-to-your-stomach, teeth-rattling, bus ride that reminds us that we're happy to have saved a bit of money and still get home safely after being drunk.

The CTA is also used for such things as:

1. Getting to work


2. Coming from work


3. Meeting at various places in the city for various reasons


4. Having a safe place to ride to such places when fully intoxicated


5. Going to a stop where you may depart your bus or train car to then be picked up by another train or bus to finally reach your destination.

There are many things the CTA is for.

Here are some things it is NOT for:

1. Begging for money
















(Isn't there some sort of man code that claims if the bus is empty you take every OTHER seat?)

2. Children


(If only we were lucky enough to have THIS kid)

3. Placing your nuts on my arm

Yes. you read that correctly.

Placing your


on my



My dear friends. Honestly. I'm sitting on the bus. Minding my own business. Next to me is a nice lady. She's minding her own business. Around us are other people. Some are sitting. Some are standing. They too, minding their own business. All of us dealing with the fact that we are a large number of people shoved into a space too small to hold us and have to maneuver around this vehicle of transportation in order to get ourselves to our specific destinations...cheaply.

We stop at the last stop before the bus turns into a mini-express. (The Belmont and Lake Shore Drive stop on the 146 for those of you who know the route). It takes Lake Shore Drive to Michigan Avenue and then exits and proceeds to do various stops on the route at that point.

So, many humans pass by me as I listen to my iPod and gaze out the window at the lake and soon the movement stops and I glance over and notice the wave of people has stopped and we are about to take off on our mini-express.

Well.

This guy sort of presses into my arm. It happens. Usually someone is trying to push past and get a hand rail on the back part of the bus or they see their friend. Whatever. However, the allotted amount of time where he should have released his junk from atop my arm passed.

So I waited a bit longer.

He shifts.

I think, Ok, good he's realized he's shoving his penis into the crook of my arm, he's going to move it.

No.

He shifts and, I swear to you, dear readers, hoisted his pants up and then solidly PLACED HIS NUTS ON MY ARM.

I was, at this point, still staring out the window and the entire thing seemed so absurd and ridiculous that I began laughing.

Hard.

Out loud.

So hard, in fact, the nice lady next to me looked over and probably thought I was laughing at her because, well, she was in the window seat and I was basically staring in her direction.

Junk man doesn't fucking move.

I'm practically hyperventilating I'm laughing so hard and this jackass STILL doesn't move his nuts from my arm!

At this point I couldn't avoid an awkward moment if I did adjust myself so I stay there. A comfy place for his ball sack.

We pull off onto Michigan Avenue and I think that, Ok, we're about to stop at a stop, people will push past and try to get off so he's got to move then right?

Wrong.

Oh no. He just presses further into me and now balls and penis are smooshing into my side boob! I'm mortified, appalled, embarrassed, etc. But I'm unable to look up at the jackass in nice Dockers shoving himself on me!

2 more stops went by when finally (FINALLY!) nut-sack man decided to move to the door because he was exiting at the next stop. He chose the back door so I never did get to see his face. But dear lord, people, I got a whole mess of cash and prizes that day!

Moral of the story:

Always be aware of your personal packages when on the CTA.

(For an added bonus, run your mouse over the pics for some fun insights!)

A moment of clarity

It bugs me when people don't like me. Sometimes I can let it go because it seems weird or irrational to me. However, when I feel like I have been myself, tried to make an effort, done my work (if it's a co-worker or boss or teacher), apologized if I've done wrong, etc. it boggles my mind why someone would just decide, for no reason other than they "just don't like me" to not like me.

I forget that often these people are dealing with their own insecurities and their own issues and I may resemble those things to them. Sometimes.

This time, it took a few jabs at my ego and a few pointed comments to make me realize that sometimes people don't want to make the effort. Sometimes people are just that bitter. Bitterness. Man, I've been teetering on that road for a while. I hate that road and I really don't feel like myself when I'm on it. It's addicting, though. It's easy to feel like you're accomplishing something when you jump on it. It motivates you, gets your blood pumping, makes you have a goal, it fills your sad and empty soul up with SOMETHING. You begin to believe that you NEED the bitterness in order to survive. I did. I was starting to. I don't want it anymore. I'm walking away from that path with my head up and a bit of clarity.

I've been so busy worrying about later and success and acheiving some weird goal I set out for myself in an effort to have something to shoot for (go goal-oriented people), I completely forgot who I was and, honestly, I'm a pretty good person. I love animals. I love people. I will go out of my way for my friends and family and, honestly, it's about fucking time I allow myself some time to fall back in love with ME. I've spent so much time beating myself up for feeling badly. Beating myself up for hurting other people. Beating myself up for taking the time to beat myself up! I've forgotten that we all make mistakes. We all choose things we're not always the most proud of. We've all wished we could have "played that out differently". But they never taught me in school how to forgive myself for not "getting it" right away. Whatever "it" was. I always believed I was just an idiot if I didn't understand immediately. I wanted to be successful right away because if I wasn't it meant I didn't get the job or the callback or the audition or the agent. It meant that I would get smeared by the critics and people would remember what a bad actor I am and that would translate into being a terrible person.

I'm not a terrible person.

I'm a good, and decent person who loves to bring people together with the right projects. I'm a good and decent person who takes the time to listen and care about others feelings. I'm a good and decent person who doesn't feel afraid or bitter when others succeed. I ENJOY the success of those I love.

I love Chicago theatre. Most of the time, we HELP each other acheive things. It's for the good of the show. It's for the better of the experience. I LOVE that. I'm tired of trying to "get it" on the first try and thinking I've FAILED because it takes me a little while to get there. It's ok. The more I do it, the better I'll get.

I won't be like her. I won't teach a student 15 years younger than me and "act as if" I'm critiquing her classwork when I'm really scared shitless she's getting the roles I should have gotten at her age. Or will. Or might. I'm done going down her path. I will work in her class but her opinion is just that. I will learn from what she teaches me (maybe not right away but I will) and I will thank her, eternally grateful, that I've seen what could have been if I don't start to fix it now.

Dulling the edges and enjoying the view.

I think I'm finally "getting it". But if I'm not, or there's more to "get", well, Ok. I'm kinda OK with that right now.

Love and love and love and peace to all.

My Zoo

I know people think I'm crazy to live in a studio with a dog, a rabbit, a chinchilla, 2 rats and my boyfriend. It does get busy around here. But the truth is, I LOVE them all. And while Wolter and I recognize we may have gone "overboard" considering the space we actually have, we just love these little guys too much to not do everything possible for them.







Which brings me to Wilson.























He's the one on the right.

The little one.

And he's sick.

Wolter and I are really concerned about him and have gone out of our way to help him since he's pretty young, for a rat.


Our vet came in on his day off to give him medications and treatments because HE was worried about him.


After mucho money was spent, we finally took him home in hopes he would turn the corner and start getting better. This has yet to happen. He takes a few steps in the right direction and then falls backwards.


We're trying to keep a positive outlook and the vet tells us he gave him some steroids which might have compromised his immune system. This reason could be why he's not "getting better faster".


So we're playing a waiting game. I take him in next Thursday for a visit so hopefully there will be better news after that.


People might think we're crazy but we love the little guy. He's wicked smart and too cute for words.


Other than that, financially we're swirling around an unflushable toilet. I'm hoping that after picking up some shifts at VGT I'll be able to help re-build the savings we've hemhorraged for various needs.


Being poor gets really old really fast. However, Wolter and I will be living financially "strapped" for, at least, another year while I finish school at ACT ONE. After that ends, I will, hopefully, be able to pay off my tuition with "work study" hours (as I'm currently doing from now through the rest of the semester) and get a job/job to help supplement the financial strain my dream is putting on me and this wonderful guy who has agreed to support me, live in a tiny apartment, cook, clean often, put up with my emotional insanity, and be all-around a wonderful person.



He's the tits.









































Maybe he'll read this and realize that sometimes I suck at saying it out loud, but he's wonderful.



:)



Happier blog in the future, I'm sure. Keep Wilson in your thoughts if you're able. He's a sweetie who deserves all the good vibes he can get.