AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No matter what, auditioning scares the hell out of me. I'm going over my monologue for Cubicle auditions on Monday and Tuesday, and I am shaking. Yes, shaking from saying my monologue out loud in my dining room, alone. It's my theatre company. It's my friends I'm auditioning for. It's part of my Chicago family. And I'm shaking. GGrrrrr....... AND it's not just the monologue....I have to sing. Now, in my high school days, I won medals for my singing in choir. I was the lead in high school musicals. When I'm alone in the house, I sing all the time. Even when Steve's around, I belt out a tune here and there. It helps that he's so musical.....he kinda brings it out in me. But my singing for competition stopped after graduation. I haven't had an audition at all since the late 90's. I've done shows, but they've been with my theatre companies and I haven't had to audition for them. They knew my strenghts and weaknesses, and knew what I could and couldn't do.

Now, an audition. And singing. My nerves are at an all time high. Plus, I had a shitload of coffee this morning at my work meeting at 8 am. That could be adding to it. I know my reaction to being nervous....my voice shakes. That isn't too bad, when doing a monologue. It usually passes after the first few lines. But when singing, I sound like the coroner from Wizard of Oz and Katherine Hepburn had a love child. Or someone is pounding on my back. Yeah, fun.

But I'm hoping the song I chose will help to aleviate some of the stress. It's a funny song, and funny songs you can play with. If I had to belt out "Memory", I would probably cry. I really need to get over that fear of singing, especially since Cubicle is a musical. Again, if I'm singing in character where I can concentrate on being the character, I'm fine. But being Tory and singing, well, kinda frightening.

The smell of fear. The panic of forgetting lines. The knowledge that I'm being judged, regardless of who is doing the judging. The less than five minutes in a room, standing in front of people, trying my best and knowing it could end up not working out. These are the things that keep actors in therapy. And it keeps us going. Knowing that you just MIGHT land that part. Knowing that you just MIGHT impress them enough to have them keep your headshot out. Knowing that if you DO land the role, you will be on stage, under the lights, the smell of the theatre, the energy coming off the audience, the connection to all the cast members, the bonds you create with the words.......all of these things are the pot at the end of the theatrical rainbow. All of these things are what keeps me in this profession. That, and I have no freakin' choice. This is my passion in life, my dream. What made me hold down crappy day jobs to pay rent so I could be on stage. My love.

And I'm still shaking.

But then again, true love always makes me shake.

Don't Mess With Texas

And other scary things.....the trip was wonderful. The family loves Steve, I got SO much quality time with HRH, and all is well. Our flights there and back were very good, except the delay in Detroit along with our layover. Otherwise, non-eventful. Which is the best to hope for when flying, in my opinion.

I was thinking last night (and was reminded this evening) that we need to have our housewarming party. I feel like I've been so separated from everyone lately. I don't think it's the whole "nuclear family relationship" thing, but it's been the timing. The damn timing. The month of July (and June and May) had been too crazy to do anything but what needed to be done. Everything else was put on hold. How many coffee dates do I have that I missed? How many dinners? I'm so happy I was able to do the things I was able to do, but I feel so apart from everyone I love. Even with Steve....during this past month we only saw each other when there was something we had to do. It's become much more relaxed here, but there's still stuff to do. I keep holding my breath until August.....

I'm not going to Michigan this year. Next year, maybe. I know I went to the festival when I did because I needed that feeling of being beautiful, accepted, loved and wanted. It wasn't just the women, the nudity or craziness that happened in the Zone, but the whole place itself was glowing with this amazing energy. I felt, completely and totally, accepted and loved, beautiful and sexy. I don't need anonymous women and 650 acres to feel that way now. However, it is an amazing recharge of the mental battery. By next year, I'm sure I'll be craving it. Especially considering how much I'm planning on pushing myself to get done with school this year and next summer. I would love to be done by the end of summer next year. Then on to the masters program. At which point, my happy ass will NEED 650 acres of amazing energy and nothing to do but sit at my campsite, eat all natural vegetarian food and listen to some amazing music.

Maybe I'm missing it a little bit, now that I'm remembering the feeling.....

Death and Travelling

They seem to go together lately. Whether it's leaving to travel home for a funeral or someone or something dying right before leaving for a vacation. The last three times I've left Chicago for simply pleasure, some animal of mine has died right before leaving (or worse, died right after I left and found them after I got back). My fish, Mork, died last night/this morning, and tomorrow morning Steve and I are going to Austin to be with my family for HRH's royal birthday party.

Now, I know he was 'just a fish' and 'they die all the time', but for those of you who really know me, you know I treat every living thing in my home as my family, be it a fish, a cat, a plant, whatever. Maybe it's because I'm a psycho-emotional Pisces with some issues not dealt with from childhood. Maybe it's because I am uber-sensitive to anything living and believe it has equal merit as anything else living. Maybe it's because I don't handle death well. It could be all of those, or none of those. Regardless of what the 'reason' is, I am upset. A little about Mork....

He was not a 'typical' fish, just swimming around and not really knowing what was going on in the world outside his aquarium. This damn fish had PERSONALITY. I know, sounds crazy, but he did. I would walk up to his aquarium and he would swim over to me. If I put my finger on the glass of his tank, he would move his algae-eater mouth to match where my finger was. He was sitting on my desk for a long time, and as soon as I would come to my desk, he would be out of his little rock castle. When I wasn't, he was sleeping. He was also about four years old. That's pretty old for a fish and a long enough time to get an attachment to him. He didn't swim to the glass because he thought I was going to feed him....I didn't ever feed him. He ate what naturally grew in his home. He didn't take much work.

And now he's dead. The last couple of days, he started to look like he was getting thinner. I mentioned something to Steve about it, and he instantly made the comment that I couldn't go 30 seconds without something else being wrong with an animal. But I knew something was off. So I bought some fish food, thinking maybe for some reason, the algae wasn't growing like it should have been and he was getting hungry. The next morning, this morning, he was gone.

Life is life, regardless of the size. That's why I don't like killing ants when they invade my kitchen. That's why I stop on rainy days and move the worms from the sidewalk to somewhere where they are less likely to be squished. That's why I 'relocate' spiders when they come in to the house. That's why I saved KittenFatCat from being used to train a pit bull. That's why we had hundreds of cats and dogs when I was growing up (saving and feeding the strays in the area). Maybe it's compassion. Maybe it's crazy. Either way, it's me. I can't change it. And while the severity and length of grieving for a fish verses a cat verses a family member is different, it is still there. Because anything that comes into my home, into my care, becomes a part of my life, my family. Who knows.....maybe being an only child and considering my animals to be my brothers and sisters when I was little marked me. I don't care what the cause is/was. It's me. And my fish died today. And I am sad.

Back to the light.....

The last week or so has been filled with some interesting things, emotions and rollercoasters. The rush of having something to do constantly is gone, and it left a weird, unsettled feeling in me. I had time to think about things I had pushed aside for too long. It also brought moments of fear to myself and Steve. Those moments were talked about, worried over and fixed completely. We are now ready to start over.

I think I felt like I was kinda worthless for a week or so. I took a week off work because, to be honest, we needed someone here to unpack, clean and organize, and my missing work wouldn't affect us NEARLY as much as if Steve missed work (financially speakinng). So all I did for a week was stay at home. I had mom and dad's truck, and parking it wasn't the most pleasant thing, so I really didn't want to drive anywhere. Plus, we had no money to do anything. I felt a little trapped, but trapped by choice. Make any sense?

But now the smoke is clearing. Steve was supposed to be off today, but they changed his schedule at work (without telling him....thanks, Disney) and he is working today. I am off. I'm hoping to get some cleaning done, maybe finish up with the last few boxes and get them out.

Amy started a blog. Reading it is really hard, but I understand the need for it. Trust me, I understand that need. And it's something that we share, on a level that none of my family in Chicago can share. We have that past, that history, that knowledge of every bit of the situation and why it's taking so long to heal it, to deal with it. Just one thing after another. The fear is there, though slightly less than last week, that this was going to be another 1999. I couldn't handle that.

I know this family will get through everything. I know we will be stronger when it's all said and done. We are just waiting for it to all be said and done. Done. Just done. I think it's easier and yet harder at the same time for Amy and I. We are both in different states from the hub of the family shit. We are apart from it in our daily lives, yet that makes it more difficult, in a way.

ENOUGH! I am going to attempt to make some pancakes, sit at our dining room table and think about all I want to get done today. But what will really happen is: I'll try to make pancakes, burn them, get frustrated, toast an english muffin, slather on some peanut butter and park it in front of the TV, grab the TiVo remote and watch some Punky Brewster. Yep. That's more like me.....

Back again....

For my loyal one reader, I am back. Finally back. This has been a very strange, interesting, amazing, scary and all around different experience these past few weeks.

We are still living among the boxes, but we are TOGETHER among the boxes. And they get fewer and fewer as the days go by. We were around each other 24/7 for about six days straight and not a single harsh word was said, not a single moment where we were sick of each other. I know, I know, it's still early on in the relationship. BUT.....we were together during one of the top three most stressful times of a person's life. #1. Death. #2. Marriage. #3. Moving. The movers took about five hours longer than they said they would, cost over twice as much as they said they would and we had to move ourselves into the new place, along with the movers, or it would have been a 13 hour move. Stressful. But my leg muscles popped out, and Steve has become quite the buff one. We are smokin' hot.

It took about 20 minutes for me to stop calling this place the apartment and start calling it home. It is home. We are planning on being here for a LONG time. We are already talking about how we can turn the office into the nursery, how we could be here for 10 years and love every moment of it. Of course, we will see. With the wonderful luck we've been having for the last, oh, two months, we could have something even more wonderful fall into our laps. But day by day, we love it here. It just feels like home.

And being in his arms. THAT is home. There is no place in the world that has ever made me feel so protected, so loved, than in his arms. It's amazing. God, I love him.