My brother sent me the pictures we took on our little camping/hiking adventure to Moss Ledge when I was in Utah. It was so beautiful on the drive up the canyon I almost cried and when I got the pictures today I did cry.
Yesterday, when I needed a friend, nobody was available. They were all working, had other plans or just didn't answer the phone. I was forced to create some quality alone time which usually ends up with me either being psycho creative or wallowing in self pity. I admit, I wallowed a bit and watched 3 movies in a row while drinking chai tea and eating a brownie from Fat Witch Fudge Co. Productive, huh?
I have the day off tomorrow and my plan is to get my ass in gear and line up auditions for the week. MUST FIND WORK OR DIE!
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
Aftermath
My entire body is still sore after taking a dance class on Friday. It was a ballet/jazz body conditioning class that kicked my ass. The lady who teaches it is an old ballet diva along with everyone else in the class. I was feeling pretty confident I could keep up seeing as though I'm in my late 20's and the rest of these ladies were in their late 60's. HUMBLED was I. These ladies put me to shame. I can only hope to be in that kind of shape when I'm their age. If I keep this up though I'll be ripped and more flexible in no time...provided I can make it through the recovery period. My next class is on Wednesday.
A rush of creativity poured over me today and I had the idea to turn one of my sarongs into a pair of pants. Just a fold or two, a few cuts and the with the help of my sewing machine I figured it out. They look like my goucho pants, kind of like a skirt, but not. Yeah, I'm very pleased. Actually, I think I could sell them. You know, put a little table up in Times Square. I'd make a fortune! Now, I just have to figure out how to make them faster.
Okay, short update and now I'm back to my movie marathon.
A rush of creativity poured over me today and I had the idea to turn one of my sarongs into a pair of pants. Just a fold or two, a few cuts and the with the help of my sewing machine I figured it out. They look like my goucho pants, kind of like a skirt, but not. Yeah, I'm very pleased. Actually, I think I could sell them. You know, put a little table up in Times Square. I'd make a fortune! Now, I just have to figure out how to make them faster.
Okay, short update and now I'm back to my movie marathon.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Ballerina Dreams and NASA
After my brief hiatus from Myspace I have returned to finish what I began, the retrospect into my youth.
I know I wasn’t the only kid to have a difficult childhood and my struggles pale in comparison to what others have had to go through. I am grateful for every aspect of my life and the love I feel from my family members who supported me every step of the way. I experienced a moment of weakness and allowed my insecurities to take over. I’ve since been focusing on those things in my life that allowed me to overcome. “So what” if I was the last picked for teams, if I was invited to parties as a practical joke, if being my friend for a week was a dare. I’m alive and I have too many other things to be grateful for than to allow such trivial incidents to rule my thoughts and behavior. As I look back on my life, I wanted what every other kid wanted…to fit in, to feel loved and accepted by my peers. I can’t help that I was just a little weird and misunderstood. Now that I’ve reached that frightening uncharted territory of adulthood I find myself navigating as if I know where I’m going. In reality, I’m still a scared little kid most of the time, safe in the frame and secure shell I’ve created.
I think more than fitting in, I wanted to make a difference. I know it sounds trite, but I always felt I had something special to offer the world. I wanted to make a mark and was convinced that my life had some kind of global significance. But, when I’m 35,000 ft and holding I realize that I’m just a tiny speck, moving, changing, thinking and evolving just like everyone else. It’s times like these I discover the smallest marks may have the most meaningful impact. My tiny dent in the universe, even if it impacts only one person, means that I have truly succeeded. I still feel as though I have something more to offer. I don’t imagine it being on a grand scale, but my dreams and potential have yet to be fully realized.
Ten years have passed since I graduated high school and I’m not quite sure why I remain in this limbo, tethered somewhere between uncertainty and the well-known path I could easily choose and settle into. I think my inability to settle for mediocrity stems from my unusual childhood. I wonder if other nerds experience this mental conflict. When I was young, with the help of my yuppie parents, I enrolled in every class imaginable trying to find my ‘gift’ that would set me apart. Neither them, nor I, anticipated my thirst for knowledge. My desire to succeed in everything placed in my path left me with too many options and confused as to what I should pursue. I loved music, so I learned to play the piano. Lessons began when I was five. Nothing was more beautiful to me than a ballerina. If I could dance like that I could change the world…dance classes shortly followed. My natural knack for wielding a paintbrush led to art classes. Those began as soon as I could hold a pencil and continue to this day. Dreams of being a fashion designer led to sewing class. Archeology to study the dinosaurs. Astronomy to study the stars. I was the only little girl I knew who had a NASA shrine next to her My Little Pony collection. Creative writing, Biology, Physiology, Psychology, Human Development…you name it, I studied it. After taking that journey backwards into my life, I can only wonder in bewilderment why I’m currently waiting tables at a corporate café and schlepping burgers to groups of boy scouts when I should be working on my Doctorate. When did I lose that drive? The interest and desire is still there but somehow I lack the initiative. I guess this is what happens when the realities of life take over. Money has more to do with it than I would like to admit. Commitments and sacrifice have also been factors. I must not have the passion for any of those things I was able to excel in. I really have only one passion and that centers around music and the performing arts. That’s the only thing now that feeds my thirst. If only I didn’t pick such a volatile occupation to pursue, one which could ultimately disappoint. The truth is, I don’t have to be on Broadway. I would be happy doing community theatre in Small Town, USA. But, I will never be satisfied until I try. So here I am, working my way up to 30 and still unsure of my future. But what fun would my life be if I was sure. I would rather live a grand adventure than know what each day held for me, and I still dream of being a ballerina and walking on the moon.
I know I wasn’t the only kid to have a difficult childhood and my struggles pale in comparison to what others have had to go through. I am grateful for every aspect of my life and the love I feel from my family members who supported me every step of the way. I experienced a moment of weakness and allowed my insecurities to take over. I’ve since been focusing on those things in my life that allowed me to overcome. “So what” if I was the last picked for teams, if I was invited to parties as a practical joke, if being my friend for a week was a dare. I’m alive and I have too many other things to be grateful for than to allow such trivial incidents to rule my thoughts and behavior. As I look back on my life, I wanted what every other kid wanted…to fit in, to feel loved and accepted by my peers. I can’t help that I was just a little weird and misunderstood. Now that I’ve reached that frightening uncharted territory of adulthood I find myself navigating as if I know where I’m going. In reality, I’m still a scared little kid most of the time, safe in the frame and secure shell I’ve created.
I think more than fitting in, I wanted to make a difference. I know it sounds trite, but I always felt I had something special to offer the world. I wanted to make a mark and was convinced that my life had some kind of global significance. But, when I’m 35,000 ft and holding I realize that I’m just a tiny speck, moving, changing, thinking and evolving just like everyone else. It’s times like these I discover the smallest marks may have the most meaningful impact. My tiny dent in the universe, even if it impacts only one person, means that I have truly succeeded. I still feel as though I have something more to offer. I don’t imagine it being on a grand scale, but my dreams and potential have yet to be fully realized.
Ten years have passed since I graduated high school and I’m not quite sure why I remain in this limbo, tethered somewhere between uncertainty and the well-known path I could easily choose and settle into. I think my inability to settle for mediocrity stems from my unusual childhood. I wonder if other nerds experience this mental conflict. When I was young, with the help of my yuppie parents, I enrolled in every class imaginable trying to find my ‘gift’ that would set me apart. Neither them, nor I, anticipated my thirst for knowledge. My desire to succeed in everything placed in my path left me with too many options and confused as to what I should pursue. I loved music, so I learned to play the piano. Lessons began when I was five. Nothing was more beautiful to me than a ballerina. If I could dance like that I could change the world…dance classes shortly followed. My natural knack for wielding a paintbrush led to art classes. Those began as soon as I could hold a pencil and continue to this day. Dreams of being a fashion designer led to sewing class. Archeology to study the dinosaurs. Astronomy to study the stars. I was the only little girl I knew who had a NASA shrine next to her My Little Pony collection. Creative writing, Biology, Physiology, Psychology, Human Development…you name it, I studied it. After taking that journey backwards into my life, I can only wonder in bewilderment why I’m currently waiting tables at a corporate café and schlepping burgers to groups of boy scouts when I should be working on my Doctorate. When did I lose that drive? The interest and desire is still there but somehow I lack the initiative. I guess this is what happens when the realities of life take over. Money has more to do with it than I would like to admit. Commitments and sacrifice have also been factors. I must not have the passion for any of those things I was able to excel in. I really have only one passion and that centers around music and the performing arts. That’s the only thing now that feeds my thirst. If only I didn’t pick such a volatile occupation to pursue, one which could ultimately disappoint. The truth is, I don’t have to be on Broadway. I would be happy doing community theatre in Small Town, USA. But, I will never be satisfied until I try. So here I am, working my way up to 30 and still unsure of my future. But what fun would my life be if I was sure. I would rather live a grand adventure than know what each day held for me, and I still dream of being a ballerina and walking on the moon.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Retrospect
Yesterday I spent hours sorting through a giant box my Mom labeled "Rochelle". Me in a box. There was everything in there from the time I was born until today. I found my hospital bracelet, my first haircut, every report card, schoolwork, playbills...everything. I found myself drowning in a sea of memories good and bad. It was difficult to see everything I've done in my life and wonder if it's really made a difference. My Mom kept everything from old art projects to teacher evaluations. All of which were interesting to read and followed the same pattern. I shuffled through award after award...science, literature, art, creative writing. Graduated with high honors from every school level. Honors at entrance scholarships. Even from the time I was in the 4th grade. I found some national writing evaluation when I was 10 and it sounded like something I'd get from a college professor.
It also brought back all of my self-esteem issues. Immediately after preschool I turned into the proverbial ugly duckling, a phase I feel I am still transforming from. Whether or not I turn into a swan remains to be seen. I don't think I really want to be a swan, maybe something more attainable and unconventional. Although I grew up in a very loving home I lived a cruel childhood. Constantly ridiculed and center of everyone's jokes. So I wasn't a Barbie doll...not even close. But I always had feelings and I can't believe how those feelings can surface after being suppressed for so many years. I laughed with my Mom when we were going through all my old pictures. "How could you let me leave the house looking like this?" She said, "I thought you looked cute." Maybe I did, but only to a mother. Why can't I heal these wounds? Why can't I get past the memories? I haven't felt this insecure for a very long time.
I have to stop now.
To be continued...
Editor's Note, i don't need to say much other than to post these pics of my gorgeous wife; someone tell my wife she's fucking hot now, COME ON!
It also brought back all of my self-esteem issues. Immediately after preschool I turned into the proverbial ugly duckling, a phase I feel I am still transforming from. Whether or not I turn into a swan remains to be seen. I don't think I really want to be a swan, maybe something more attainable and unconventional. Although I grew up in a very loving home I lived a cruel childhood. Constantly ridiculed and center of everyone's jokes. So I wasn't a Barbie doll...not even close. But I always had feelings and I can't believe how those feelings can surface after being suppressed for so many years. I laughed with my Mom when we were going through all my old pictures. "How could you let me leave the house looking like this?" She said, "I thought you looked cute." Maybe I did, but only to a mother. Why can't I heal these wounds? Why can't I get past the memories? I haven't felt this insecure for a very long time.
I have to stop now.
To be continued...
Editor's Note, i don't need to say much other than to post these pics of my gorgeous wife; someone tell my wife she's fucking hot now, COME ON!
Saturday, July 9, 2005
Home Sweet Home
It's quiet and I'm completely relaxed. No work, no city, no commute, no noise...peace. I surprised my Mom this morning by taking a little vacation home to Salt Lake. Dad helped me plan and picked me up from the airport. I slept in the basement on the sofa completely unbeknownst to my sweet mom sleeping upstairs. She figured it out pretty quickly this morning when she saw the not-so-hidden suitcase in my sister’s room. She bounded downstairs saying, “Where is she! Where’s my daughter!” It was a very happy moment and I was so glad to be there.
Sleeping alone downstairs was a little difficult for me. I had a flood of memories and was so overwhelmed the tears just started streaming. Although I felt safe and comfortable, I still felt a little out of place, like I really didn’t belong there anymore. And then I felt like I really didn’t belong anywhere. I hope to find some clarity this week and stable ground for my life as I keep moving forward.
I’ll write about all of my adventures tomorrow. Tonight I’m exhausted and I can’t seem to organize my thoughts.
The crickets are singing me a lullaby and it's the first time in weeks I've felt like going to sleep before 3:00. Is this home?
Sleeping alone downstairs was a little difficult for me. I had a flood of memories and was so overwhelmed the tears just started streaming. Although I felt safe and comfortable, I still felt a little out of place, like I really didn’t belong there anymore. And then I felt like I really didn’t belong anywhere. I hope to find some clarity this week and stable ground for my life as I keep moving forward.
I’ll write about all of my adventures tomorrow. Tonight I’m exhausted and I can’t seem to organize my thoughts.
The crickets are singing me a lullaby and it's the first time in weeks I've felt like going to sleep before 3:00. Is this home?
Saturday, July 2, 2005
How do I give that service with a smile?
Last night marked the first meeting for my new support and networking group, Falcone and Associates. Together we are a group of unemployed actors who are helping each other any way we can to find work. The evening was hosted by, none other than, Toni Dolce. She went all out and made dinner, fresh pesto pasta with hors d'oeuvres, wine (sparkling water for me) and strawberry shortcake for dessert. Yum. So, we ended up doing a lot of eating before we actually got to business. The meeting proved a success for all of us and we set reasonable goals to achieve for the following week. All of them were geared toward helping us market ourselves, further our education on our craft and seek out representation for better audition opportunities. I think my favorite comment for the evening was from Tom who mentioned we all have jobs right now that are not helping in our careers and to remedy this way of thinking we have to look at it as though we are the company. His thought was that we don't have jobs, we are the company and we are contracting out our time in order to make money to pay bills and further our careers as actors. Way to go Tom.
That got me to thinking about how much time I've invested into Hard Rock lately. I seem to be almost living there, which it the last thing I wanted when I returned from tour. Now, I'm a trainer there, I'm on committees and boards and it feels as though there is no end in sight. On top of that I'm really frustrated with a few people there who make my life less than bearable.
"So I want to kill this waitress. She's worked here a year, longer than I. If I did it fast...you know, that's an act of kindness. BUT I BELIEVE IN PEACE...BITCH"
Hard Rock is in the process of moving to Times Square...a major feat. I'm not thrilled with the move. It will mean more tourists, more foreigners and less tips in my pockets. On top of that it will be crowded and I'll never get a moment to breathe. I'm thinking my contract may be for a shortened period of time. We'll see how it goes and whether or not I'll be able to schlep burgers and fries all day and still have a smile on my face.
Bet'cha your life a waitress earns her pay!
That got me to thinking about how much time I've invested into Hard Rock lately. I seem to be almost living there, which it the last thing I wanted when I returned from tour. Now, I'm a trainer there, I'm on committees and boards and it feels as though there is no end in sight. On top of that I'm really frustrated with a few people there who make my life less than bearable.
"So I want to kill this waitress. She's worked here a year, longer than I. If I did it fast...you know, that's an act of kindness. BUT I BELIEVE IN PEACE...BITCH"
Hard Rock is in the process of moving to Times Square...a major feat. I'm not thrilled with the move. It will mean more tourists, more foreigners and less tips in my pockets. On top of that it will be crowded and I'll never get a moment to breathe. I'm thinking my contract may be for a shortened period of time. We'll see how it goes and whether or not I'll be able to schlep burgers and fries all day and still have a smile on my face.
Bet'cha your life a waitress earns her pay!
Friday, July 1, 2005
A Heart Full of Love
No matter how much love I give away, I always seem to have an abundant supply ready for the next needy soul. A constant outpouring of love...for my family and my friends and anyone else who comes to me with an outstretched hand. However, I fear that with every revitalizing moment I give to someone else a small piece of me withers and dies unless I receive love in return. For most of the people in my life this is not a problem, I give and receive in harmony. A wheel that keeps running with almost involuntary action. Then there are those that I reach out to and receive nothing in return. What is to become of me if I continue on this path? Do I choose to stop giving, or do I keep giving in hopes that one day the pay off will be so magnificent that the sacrifice is worth the wait. Being the eternal optimist, my instinct is to keep trying, to keep giving and loving and never give up. Is this an unrealistic point of view? Am I only a dreamer. Maybe so. But I would rather live in a blissful dream world of hope than fall into a world of apathy and complacency.
My body may wither and die, I may become frail, but my heart will never be lacking for love and I'll continue to give it freely. Maybe one day, it's worth will be revealed and those who have squandered it or threw it by the wayside will cherish it and give love in return.
Remaining Hopeful
My body may wither and die, I may become frail, but my heart will never be lacking for love and I'll continue to give it freely. Maybe one day, it's worth will be revealed and those who have squandered it or threw it by the wayside will cherish it and give love in return.
Remaining Hopeful
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