I remember part of a conversation I had with my college roommates at the end of my senior year. It makes me cringe when I remember it, but I feel it's relevant to what I want to write about, so much to my chagrin, I'm going to share it. We were in Rochester, NY for the annual lilac festival in May of 2009, and we stopped at a graveyard to visit Susan B. Anthony's grave. As one would guess in such a situation, the topic of women's equality came up as we walked back to the car, and I recall declaring, "I'm all for women's equality, but I don't consider myself a feminist." When prompted (with good reason) to explain myself, I said, "I guess I just don't like the notion that women deserve special treatment, or are somehow better than men." Boy did I have it twisted. One of my friends told me so, and though I doubt I admitted it at the time, my way of thinking on that subject started changing right then and there. You see, she said, that's not what feminism is. Feminism and women's equality are inextricably linked, you cannot have one without the other. Just because I, a 22-year-old white middle-class female, had not (at least not in a way I was able to recognize yet) encountered rampant sexism did not mean it did not exist.
The truth is that it is EVERYWHERE. It's in the way women are talked about, talked to, marketed towards, treated on social media, and perceived in general. Not just by men, by women too. Some archaic ideas about women are so ingrained in our society's psyche that they are just accepted as truth at this point. I'm thinking in particular of notions about women being overly emotional, shrewish, and unpredictable. The idea that we should be feared and avoided when we "get going". Yeah, sometimes I get in a bad mood, but so does everyone else I know, men included. It's become so ingrained that at this point, the moment a woman scowls, frowns, or maybe even commits the crime of having resting bitch face (I suffer from this chronic condition and can attest to the annoyances it causes), it's "Uh oh, better get out of her way before she holds up the nearest 7-11 for all the chocolate in their store." You see it over and over again on sitcoms, where the wife merrily and repeatedly plays the dutiful, efficient shrew who can banish her sloppy, breadwinning husband to the couch with no more than a peppery side glance. Real talk - I don't know anyone who has banished their significant other to the couch for leaving the toilet seat up, forgetting to switch the laundry, or maybe even just being in her line of vision when she's on the rag. It's plain ridiculous.
An unfortunately common misconception about feminism (and something that I'll admit was holding back 22-year-old me from branding myself as a feminist) is that it's about women wanting to be like men. I can tell you that I have absolutely zero desire to be like a man. I love being a woman. I believe that there is a whole lot that is totally awesome and worth celebrating about womanhood, and the differences between men and women are abundant. It's undeniable. The reason you should treat women with respect is not because they are just like men (that in itself would be extremely sexist), it's because we are human beings with every bit as much worth.
Probably the most obvious example of why sexism is still a major problem in our society is the obsession with physical appearance. Even in the most basic sense, there are very different rules for men and women in this regard. Women's clothing is much more intricate and involved, and the emphasis on looking vibrant and youthful is something that is uniquely pressed on women. This means makeup, facial care, anti-aging products, expensive haircuts and color jobs, the list is endless. I'm not saying that men don't take pride in their appearance, or even that women should take less pride and care (let's face it, I love makeup and dressing up and that's never going to change), but the obsession with women's grooming efforts and fashion choices is a serious problem. I recently saw a story about a local news anchor who wore the same dark blue suit every single night for a year, while his female co-anchor wore a different outfit every night. Guess what? In a review of the comments on the the station's various social media outlets, not one person commented on the male anchor's clothing, even though this dude was wearing the same thing EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. It's because no one was looking at his clothes. They were listening to what he was reporting, as it should be with a news anchor. His co-anchor was not given the same professional courtesy, her various outfits and hairstyles drew plenty of comments and criticism. These standards permeate our culture, particularly the entertainment business, with female celebrities being constantly scrutinized for their fashion choices, haircuts, etc., even on trips to the damn gym. Hey, I know I'm part of the machine, I'm guilty of picking up US Weekly now and again in the checkout line, but maybe, just maybe, we should pay more attention to the work women are doing and not what they wore to do it.
The last thing I'll mention is that I think feminism means something a little different to everyone, so you can't hold yourself up to, say, an activist for women's rights and think that you by association cannot be a feminist because you are not doing as much as she is doing. You don't even need to have all of the same beliefs. For example, it would be ridiculous for me to look at women who do not change their last names when they get married, and think that because I did take my husband's name that I am somehow "less feminist" than they are. My reasons for changing my name had absolutely nothing to do my perceived equality with my husband. It was a personal choice, and one that I believe every married woman has a right to make for herself. I'm also thinking of the controversy over The Big Bang Theory's Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting's comments in Redbook on why she does not consider herself a feminist (which may or may not have been the inspiration for this post). She has every right to her beliefs, but I'm not sure she is approaching feminism in a healthy way. Whether she likes it or not, she is a role model for young girls, and I think it's damaging to say that it's "not really something she thinks about" because she's "never really faced it". First of all, I seriously doubt that's true. Even though she is in a place of privilege right now, she's a young, pretty, female actor, and I'm sure she faced a whole lot of misogyny on her road to success. I'd even venture to guess that she still encounters it from time to time. Second, even if by some miracle she has truly never faced something that is so ingrained in our culture, I doubt she is completely ignorant that other women have faced it, and continue to face it on a daily basis. To say that you don't care about something or don't believe in it just because it doesn't affect you personally is irresponsible.
Like any struggle for equality, this problem can't be fixed overnight. I think the best place to start is respect. Respect for your mothers, sisters, wives, girlfriends, co-workers, friends and even strangers. Respect for the integrity of the work they do, the things they accomplish, the things they struggle with, and the things that are meaningful to them. Sounds pretty simple, right? It is.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Saturday, November 22, 2014
No Longer Forever 25
On my 25th birthday, I remember telling all my friends that this was my last birthday. Not in a morbid or foreboding way, but more in the vein of denial. I resolved that every birthday thereafter would also be my 25th birthday. I would not be admitting to ever being any older than 25. When I turned 26, sure enough, I cracked jokes about it being my second 25th birthday. Because who would want to be 26? That's, like, so old you guys. Well, 27 came hard and fast and the joke was starting to get old. After all, most of my friends are about the same age as me, and some are older, so the joke didn't just stop being funny, it also started to be kind of offensive. As I approach 28, and before I know it, 30, I realize just how very stupid the joke was, and I know I'll never make it again.
Here's the thing - I LOVE being in my late twenties. I think I'm going to love being in my thirties too. Life gets better as you get older. You get more confident, you make less excuses for yourself, and people take you more seriously. Also, you care less about how seriously people take you, or anything they think of you for that matter. I think that's the best part. Sure, I have moments when I find out how much older I am than someone I admire was when they accomplished something great, I discover that most of my cast-mates in whatever show I'm involved in at that particular moment in time were born in the 90's, or I remember that by the time my mother was my age, she had three children, and I cringe a little. That's natural. But guess what? I'm on my own journey. I don't have to do things in any particular order just because somebody else did.
Another thing about getting older is that I'm a woman, and I'm not supposed to. Us ladies are constantly bombarded with not-so-subliminal messages about the importance of staying youthful and fresh. Men, on the other hand, are revered as they get older. They are perceived as seasoned, mature, experienced, and alluring. For women, there is a very disheartening paradox in which we seem to be valued more as we age for our ability to appear younger than we actually are. How many times have you seen a picture of a female celebrity captioned with something like "40 is the new 25" or a magazine with cover stories like "So and so shares her secrets to staying young". We should really stop saying "she looks great for her age" and just say "she looks great". End of story.
Something else happened around the time I turned 25. I started noticing the little lines around my eyes when I smiled in pictures. Ever year, they get a little deeper and a little longer, and I know that trend will continue. When I first noticed them, I was horrified. I was too young for wrinkles! For god's sake, I still get zits sometimes. But when I think about why they are there, I'm not horrified, I'm thankful. They are there because of all the times I stayed up way too late with my little sister and laughed until I could barely breathe while she made incredibly strange prank calls to random phone numbers in our area code. They are there because of that time during freshman year of college when Adam told us the story about his friend's cat peeing on him in the middle of the night in that hilarious deadpan manner that only he can tell a story, and I knew as the tears of laughter streamed down my face that I wanted him to make me laugh like that forever. They are there because of the times over the past year when I have thrown my head back and laughed uncontrollably with recently-met cast-mates as if we were old friends. They are nothing to be ashamed of, they are the mark of a life of what in retrospection looks like an almost unfair amount of happiness. I'm not saying that I don't care what I look like. I believe in looking and feeling my best, I use an anti-aging eye cream at night, I'll admit it. What I'm saying is that I'm not going to panic. I look like I am supposed to at 27. As I get older, I will look older, and I accept that.
I know that some people might read this and think "Okay, 27-year-old, talk to me when you're approaching 40", and that's a valid point. I know that I am still pretty young by most standards, and that awareness reminds me daily to take advantage of all the things about being young that are so wonderful, but I am truly not afraid to get older. I look to my beautiful mother and her beautiful sisters, who laugh when they are together with a special kind of recklessness, I look to my grandmothers who are both so sweet and happy and full of love, I look to the maturity and serenity of the older women I have come across throughout my life as teachers, mentors, and friends, and I know there is nothing to scared of. There are only things to look forward to, only things to learn.
"I'll see you in the future when we're older, and we are full of stories to be told
Crossing our hearts and hope to die, I'll see you with your laughter lines"
Here's the thing - I LOVE being in my late twenties. I think I'm going to love being in my thirties too. Life gets better as you get older. You get more confident, you make less excuses for yourself, and people take you more seriously. Also, you care less about how seriously people take you, or anything they think of you for that matter. I think that's the best part. Sure, I have moments when I find out how much older I am than someone I admire was when they accomplished something great, I discover that most of my cast-mates in whatever show I'm involved in at that particular moment in time were born in the 90's, or I remember that by the time my mother was my age, she had three children, and I cringe a little. That's natural. But guess what? I'm on my own journey. I don't have to do things in any particular order just because somebody else did.
Another thing about getting older is that I'm a woman, and I'm not supposed to. Us ladies are constantly bombarded with not-so-subliminal messages about the importance of staying youthful and fresh. Men, on the other hand, are revered as they get older. They are perceived as seasoned, mature, experienced, and alluring. For women, there is a very disheartening paradox in which we seem to be valued more as we age for our ability to appear younger than we actually are. How many times have you seen a picture of a female celebrity captioned with something like "40 is the new 25" or a magazine with cover stories like "So and so shares her secrets to staying young". We should really stop saying "she looks great for her age" and just say "she looks great". End of story.
Something else happened around the time I turned 25. I started noticing the little lines around my eyes when I smiled in pictures. Ever year, they get a little deeper and a little longer, and I know that trend will continue. When I first noticed them, I was horrified. I was too young for wrinkles! For god's sake, I still get zits sometimes. But when I think about why they are there, I'm not horrified, I'm thankful. They are there because of all the times I stayed up way too late with my little sister and laughed until I could barely breathe while she made incredibly strange prank calls to random phone numbers in our area code. They are there because of that time during freshman year of college when Adam told us the story about his friend's cat peeing on him in the middle of the night in that hilarious deadpan manner that only he can tell a story, and I knew as the tears of laughter streamed down my face that I wanted him to make me laugh like that forever. They are there because of the times over the past year when I have thrown my head back and laughed uncontrollably with recently-met cast-mates as if we were old friends. They are nothing to be ashamed of, they are the mark of a life of what in retrospection looks like an almost unfair amount of happiness. I'm not saying that I don't care what I look like. I believe in looking and feeling my best, I use an anti-aging eye cream at night, I'll admit it. What I'm saying is that I'm not going to panic. I look like I am supposed to at 27. As I get older, I will look older, and I accept that.
I know that some people might read this and think "Okay, 27-year-old, talk to me when you're approaching 40", and that's a valid point. I know that I am still pretty young by most standards, and that awareness reminds me daily to take advantage of all the things about being young that are so wonderful, but I am truly not afraid to get older. I look to my beautiful mother and her beautiful sisters, who laugh when they are together with a special kind of recklessness, I look to my grandmothers who are both so sweet and happy and full of love, I look to the maturity and serenity of the older women I have come across throughout my life as teachers, mentors, and friends, and I know there is nothing to scared of. There are only things to look forward to, only things to learn.
"I'll see you in the future when we're older, and we are full of stories to be told
Crossing our hearts and hope to die, I'll see you with your laughter lines"
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
And though they do not know it, all mankind are now your brothers
Lately I've been noticing posts about introverts popping up pretty much everywhere. Memes, lists, full-on articles, you name it. Suddenly, it seems, it's more socially acceptable to have a more inward-aimed personality, and it's hip to understand us. I think that's pretty cool, and since I have 27 years of first-hand experience being (not to brag or anything) a classic introvert in pretty much every sense I thought I'd join the conversation, which is something I am rarely inclined to do unless I feel that what I have to say is interesting or valuable. (You see what I did there?)
First of all, let me clear something up about this blog. I started it as a food and travel blog, because at the time I created it that was my jam. Don't get me wrong, I still love traveling and food will always be the closest thing to my heart besides a few very special individuals, but I don't seem to be going on trips and eating out as much as I did when I was 24/25. How Adam and I managed to then is a bit beyond me, given that we were definitely more poor than we are now. But enough about that. The point is, I need an outlet for my addled mind, I need to let things out that twist and fester and scream from inside, and just pouring it all out to a loved one sounds a bit cruel, so why not make it elective reading? Good? Good, let's move on.
So, introverts, what is they? Who are what? When is how? Let's start with what an introvert is not. An introvert is not just a shy or quiet person. While those qualities can definitely be and often are part of an introvert's complex personality, shy people are not always introverts and introverts are not always shy. I'll use my own experience as an example. When I was a kid, I was extremely, cripplingly shy. I was not only quiet around my classmates and peers, I actively avoided interaction with them. I didn't understand their boisterous play or their loud, raucous interactions with each other. This wasn't to say that I didn't want to be a part of things, in fact I desperately did, I simply did not know how. It was almost as if they spoke another language. For a kid this is not only confusing, it is scary, so avoidance often seems like the best option, and that is interpreted by other kids as weird, uncomfortable, unapproachable, etc. So a wallflower I was, and a wallflower I remained throughout all of grade school and through most of high school. What actually drew me out of that (at least a little bit) was getting involved with theatre and speech club, but I already talked about goddamn theatre and how much it's helped me in my last post, and if I start again I'll probably start openly weeping, and we can't have that. Stupid theatre, go away (except don't because I'm obsessed with you). THE POINT IS, today, there are probably not a whole lot of people who would describe me as shy. Quietly reflective at times? Maybe. Occasionally hard to stay in touch with? Perhaps. But the most noticeable difference between 7-year-old me and late twenties me is that I can turn it on when I know it's time.
Even in my mousiest days I have always been kind of in love with the world, and the people in it. People fascinate me. This is going to sound really lame and sappy, but I am just so enraptured by the idea that within every living being lies the endless sea of emotions, impulses, and thoughts that I experience on my own. It's beautiful. It's poetry. It's magic. What's even better is that I have been fortunate enough to forge some really meaningful relationships with other people, and to me this is nothing short of a triumph. How am I that lucky? How is anyone that lucky? Because I want this and I need this, I force myself out there to interact with people, to speak with them, to know them.
So here's the rub. No matter how much I crave human interaction, so matter how rewarding it is for me when I get it, it comes at a price. Here's why. Interaction with other people does not always come naturally to me, except with a very small handful of people. As I mentioned before, it is almost like speaking another language. You always have to think a sentence (or two) ahead of what you're saying, and you are always running the risk of sounding like a complete and utter moron. I think this is why writing appeals to me so much, because I am in absolute control of what goes on the page. I think this is also why I'm so drawn to theatre (godammit), because when you are acting, not only are you pretending to be someone you're not, away from all your social anxieties and neuroses, you are operating in a safe space where everything is mapped out for you, and you don't have to worry about your words being misinterpreted or your actions being perceived as too forward, weird, etc. When I'm just speaking off the cuff, that is not the case. I can't tell you how often I regret the words that come fluttering out of my mouth. I am a chronic apologizer, over-explainer, and facebook status deleter (facebook statuses and texts fall under the speaking blanket, as they tend to be impulsive, and are the bane of my existence). So I think you can see how social interaction causes me some anxiety, and here comes the part with the cup metaphor. There's a reason it exists, because it's so true. I have a limited amount of social energy. I know some people do not, and I am in awe of those people. However, I have my limits. There comes a point for me at every gathering or interaction when I am just...done. I wish I had more to say, I wish I had more to contribute, but I am done, and I cannot. The cup is empty, and it will not again be full until I have had sufficient Mandy time to recharge. I am not angry, I am not sad, I am simply empty. Done.
So here's what I've been driving at - introverts are a lot like extroverts sometimes in terms of our social needs. We like human interaction, we even crave it, need it. The main difference is that instead of it being therapeutic for us, it is, for lack of a better word, aerobic. It's a lot like exercise. We have to pump ourselves up for it, and while it can be a lot of fun while it's happening, and we know it's good for us, we need the recovery time afterwards if we ever expect to do it again.
Well I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole, I think I learned a few things myself. If anything, I would hope that an extrovert reads this and realizes, "Wow, introverts are cray, I kind of dig it."
First of all, let me clear something up about this blog. I started it as a food and travel blog, because at the time I created it that was my jam. Don't get me wrong, I still love traveling and food will always be the closest thing to my heart besides a few very special individuals, but I don't seem to be going on trips and eating out as much as I did when I was 24/25. How Adam and I managed to then is a bit beyond me, given that we were definitely more poor than we are now. But enough about that. The point is, I need an outlet for my addled mind, I need to let things out that twist and fester and scream from inside, and just pouring it all out to a loved one sounds a bit cruel, so why not make it elective reading? Good? Good, let's move on.
So, introverts, what is they? Who are what? When is how? Let's start with what an introvert is not. An introvert is not just a shy or quiet person. While those qualities can definitely be and often are part of an introvert's complex personality, shy people are not always introverts and introverts are not always shy. I'll use my own experience as an example. When I was a kid, I was extremely, cripplingly shy. I was not only quiet around my classmates and peers, I actively avoided interaction with them. I didn't understand their boisterous play or their loud, raucous interactions with each other. This wasn't to say that I didn't want to be a part of things, in fact I desperately did, I simply did not know how. It was almost as if they spoke another language. For a kid this is not only confusing, it is scary, so avoidance often seems like the best option, and that is interpreted by other kids as weird, uncomfortable, unapproachable, etc. So a wallflower I was, and a wallflower I remained throughout all of grade school and through most of high school. What actually drew me out of that (at least a little bit) was getting involved with theatre and speech club, but I already talked about goddamn theatre and how much it's helped me in my last post, and if I start again I'll probably start openly weeping, and we can't have that. Stupid theatre, go away (except don't because I'm obsessed with you). THE POINT IS, today, there are probably not a whole lot of people who would describe me as shy. Quietly reflective at times? Maybe. Occasionally hard to stay in touch with? Perhaps. But the most noticeable difference between 7-year-old me and late twenties me is that I can turn it on when I know it's time.
Even in my mousiest days I have always been kind of in love with the world, and the people in it. People fascinate me. This is going to sound really lame and sappy, but I am just so enraptured by the idea that within every living being lies the endless sea of emotions, impulses, and thoughts that I experience on my own. It's beautiful. It's poetry. It's magic. What's even better is that I have been fortunate enough to forge some really meaningful relationships with other people, and to me this is nothing short of a triumph. How am I that lucky? How is anyone that lucky? Because I want this and I need this, I force myself out there to interact with people, to speak with them, to know them.
So here's the rub. No matter how much I crave human interaction, so matter how rewarding it is for me when I get it, it comes at a price. Here's why. Interaction with other people does not always come naturally to me, except with a very small handful of people. As I mentioned before, it is almost like speaking another language. You always have to think a sentence (or two) ahead of what you're saying, and you are always running the risk of sounding like a complete and utter moron. I think this is why writing appeals to me so much, because I am in absolute control of what goes on the page. I think this is also why I'm so drawn to theatre (godammit), because when you are acting, not only are you pretending to be someone you're not, away from all your social anxieties and neuroses, you are operating in a safe space where everything is mapped out for you, and you don't have to worry about your words being misinterpreted or your actions being perceived as too forward, weird, etc. When I'm just speaking off the cuff, that is not the case. I can't tell you how often I regret the words that come fluttering out of my mouth. I am a chronic apologizer, over-explainer, and facebook status deleter (facebook statuses and texts fall under the speaking blanket, as they tend to be impulsive, and are the bane of my existence). So I think you can see how social interaction causes me some anxiety, and here comes the part with the cup metaphor. There's a reason it exists, because it's so true. I have a limited amount of social energy. I know some people do not, and I am in awe of those people. However, I have my limits. There comes a point for me at every gathering or interaction when I am just...done. I wish I had more to say, I wish I had more to contribute, but I am done, and I cannot. The cup is empty, and it will not again be full until I have had sufficient Mandy time to recharge. I am not angry, I am not sad, I am simply empty. Done.
So here's what I've been driving at - introverts are a lot like extroverts sometimes in terms of our social needs. We like human interaction, we even crave it, need it. The main difference is that instead of it being therapeutic for us, it is, for lack of a better word, aerobic. It's a lot like exercise. We have to pump ourselves up for it, and while it can be a lot of fun while it's happening, and we know it's good for us, we need the recovery time afterwards if we ever expect to do it again.
Well I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole, I think I learned a few things myself. If anything, I would hope that an extrovert reads this and realizes, "Wow, introverts are cray, I kind of dig it."
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope?
But hush! No more.
And thus ends Banquo's soliloquy as he finally understands the full scope of what his best friend has done and is capable of doing for power, and in desperation asks why he may not hope to attain a place in history too when promises were also made to him. As anyone who has read or seen the Scottish play performed knows, Banquo does attain a place in history through his heir, Fleance, but himself is savagely murdered at Macbeth's behest shortly after delivering these lines. Tragic as they may be, I feel that they sum up my feelings on the past year. If someone else can, why not me?
When I was in the first grade, my teacher announced that we would be doing a play. Everyone would participate. The play was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and we would soon be assigned our roles. I don't remember fervently hoping to be cast as Snow White, but I do remember when I was, and I do remember running up the front steps to my house, bursting with excitement to tell my mom that I was the star of the show, I was Snow White! After that, I was hooked. Our class performed one play every year. Some years I had a lead role, other years I had 2 or 3 smaller roles in the same show, but every year I loved it.
When I got to high school, I joined drama right away. I auditioned for the school's fall play, Antigone, my freshman year, and got a role in the chorus. I was fine with it, it was my first play at the school and I thought that in time I would of course get better roles. This did not necessarily turn out to be true. I tended to get cast in the ensemble if there was one, and in the smaller, stranger roles (Gloria Rasputin in Bye Bye Birdie, Whore #1 in Les Mis, Mrs. Soames in Our Town). It stung a little to see my peers start to get larger roles while I was continually passed over, but I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did. I made more friends through drama than I did through anything else I did in high school. I was painfully shy and lacked self-confidence (maybe this was why I didn't such great roles), and if it had not been for drama I probably would have crawled into a hole and not socialized at all.
Then came college. When I first arrived on campus I started looking for auditions right away. Not the school's main stage productions, of course (while the auditions were open to all, it was somewhat of an unspoken rule that those were reserved for the school's acting students) but for the club shows. I quickly gave up on plays after I faced a few rejections, but did have some luck getting cast in student film and TV projects. As a Spanish major, I also got the chance to perform in a couple Spanish language plays. I will never forget one night towards the end of my sophomore year, I stepped up on stage for a tech rehearsal for one of these plays and felt the warmth of the stage lighting on my skin. I remembered it so well, but had somehow never been conscious of it before. It was one of the best feelings I have ever had to this day.
After college, my primary focus was settling into my new life living with my boyfriend, Adam, and getting a job, any job. Acting was forgotten for the time. Things progressed quickly with Adam as we fell even more in love, got engaged, and moved to Washington. Between planning our wedding and setting up a new life in a new place, it wasn't surprising that I didn't take much time for any hobbies. A couple years later, I found myself so homesick that I finally convinced Adam to move back to Massachusetts with me, and we again started the process of setting up a life in a new place.
Cut to fall of 2013, and finally feeling settled and grounded enough to start exploring a little, I resolved that I would go on a few auditions for community theater shows, just to see what would happen. To my great surprise, I got a role in the first show I auditioned for, ironically, Antigone, the first show I did in high school. Joyful and proud as I was, I knew the director had taken a chance on me. I was rusty and had chosen a very age-inappropriate monologue for my audition, plus my acting resume was blank for the past, er, 6 years. In any case, I was grateful for the opportunity to get back in the game, and took full advantage of my situation. I studied the actors in the lead roles, I soaked in their grace and poise, their articulation and their intensity. I thought to myself, I'm not there yet, but I could do that. If other people can do it, why not me?
Turned out I was right, I landed another role before Antigone had even finished its run, the role of Banquo (played as a woman), the author of the title of this post. I remember saying to one of the other actors in the show that I felt like it was a fluke that I got such a good role, but I was going to play it cool and just act natural. After that show I got cast as the lead in another, and have just learned that I will be performing in another great show in the fall. Every time I perform, in a rehearsal or in a live show with an audience, I feel myself become a little more open. I am still in the beginning stages, I think, where I discover by feeling and operate on instinct. Technique will come with time and experience, I am sure, but I know my choices get better and better. The mousy girl from high school is gone and in her place is a hungry, vivacious woman who actually has some semblance of stage presence. Being cast in certain roles has forced me to look at myself in different lights. Why shouldn't I be the lead? Why shouldn't I be the brave one, the beautiful one, the funny one, the one who has to cry? I still face frustrations and rejections (all actors do), but I am better equipped for them now. I realize that if I am not cast in something, it's not because I suck, it's because I wasn't right for the show, or at least the director's specific vision for the show. I'm okay with that. I can say, "Whatever, I'm awesome" and move on. Part of that is me getting into my late twenties and just not giving an eff anymore, but part of that is also the confidence I have gained in the past year, and that is a direct result of my return to acting.
I'll close with this - even though (on my more cynical days) I might see my involvement with theatre as a continuous cycle of running myself ragged, sacrificing any hint of free time or a social life, and having my heart ripped in two every couple months when a show is over just as I've begun to get really close with everyone, it has taught me so much about living in the moment. Performers crave the spotlight, so we feel some of our very highest highs up on stage, and sharing that with an audience and other performers is, aside from falling in love, perhaps the closest thing to magic that exists in this world. For me, this is what makes all of the work, the sacrifice, and the heartbreak worthwhile. Those heart-pumping moments when everything else falls away and you just feel totally and completely alive.
And thus ends Banquo's soliloquy as he finally understands the full scope of what his best friend has done and is capable of doing for power, and in desperation asks why he may not hope to attain a place in history too when promises were also made to him. As anyone who has read or seen the Scottish play performed knows, Banquo does attain a place in history through his heir, Fleance, but himself is savagely murdered at Macbeth's behest shortly after delivering these lines. Tragic as they may be, I feel that they sum up my feelings on the past year. If someone else can, why not me?
When I was in the first grade, my teacher announced that we would be doing a play. Everyone would participate. The play was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and we would soon be assigned our roles. I don't remember fervently hoping to be cast as Snow White, but I do remember when I was, and I do remember running up the front steps to my house, bursting with excitement to tell my mom that I was the star of the show, I was Snow White! After that, I was hooked. Our class performed one play every year. Some years I had a lead role, other years I had 2 or 3 smaller roles in the same show, but every year I loved it.
When I got to high school, I joined drama right away. I auditioned for the school's fall play, Antigone, my freshman year, and got a role in the chorus. I was fine with it, it was my first play at the school and I thought that in time I would of course get better roles. This did not necessarily turn out to be true. I tended to get cast in the ensemble if there was one, and in the smaller, stranger roles (Gloria Rasputin in Bye Bye Birdie, Whore #1 in Les Mis, Mrs. Soames in Our Town). It stung a little to see my peers start to get larger roles while I was continually passed over, but I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did. I made more friends through drama than I did through anything else I did in high school. I was painfully shy and lacked self-confidence (maybe this was why I didn't such great roles), and if it had not been for drama I probably would have crawled into a hole and not socialized at all.
Then came college. When I first arrived on campus I started looking for auditions right away. Not the school's main stage productions, of course (while the auditions were open to all, it was somewhat of an unspoken rule that those were reserved for the school's acting students) but for the club shows. I quickly gave up on plays after I faced a few rejections, but did have some luck getting cast in student film and TV projects. As a Spanish major, I also got the chance to perform in a couple Spanish language plays. I will never forget one night towards the end of my sophomore year, I stepped up on stage for a tech rehearsal for one of these plays and felt the warmth of the stage lighting on my skin. I remembered it so well, but had somehow never been conscious of it before. It was one of the best feelings I have ever had to this day.
After college, my primary focus was settling into my new life living with my boyfriend, Adam, and getting a job, any job. Acting was forgotten for the time. Things progressed quickly with Adam as we fell even more in love, got engaged, and moved to Washington. Between planning our wedding and setting up a new life in a new place, it wasn't surprising that I didn't take much time for any hobbies. A couple years later, I found myself so homesick that I finally convinced Adam to move back to Massachusetts with me, and we again started the process of setting up a life in a new place.
Cut to fall of 2013, and finally feeling settled and grounded enough to start exploring a little, I resolved that I would go on a few auditions for community theater shows, just to see what would happen. To my great surprise, I got a role in the first show I auditioned for, ironically, Antigone, the first show I did in high school. Joyful and proud as I was, I knew the director had taken a chance on me. I was rusty and had chosen a very age-inappropriate monologue for my audition, plus my acting resume was blank for the past, er, 6 years. In any case, I was grateful for the opportunity to get back in the game, and took full advantage of my situation. I studied the actors in the lead roles, I soaked in their grace and poise, their articulation and their intensity. I thought to myself, I'm not there yet, but I could do that. If other people can do it, why not me?
Turned out I was right, I landed another role before Antigone had even finished its run, the role of Banquo (played as a woman), the author of the title of this post. I remember saying to one of the other actors in the show that I felt like it was a fluke that I got such a good role, but I was going to play it cool and just act natural. After that show I got cast as the lead in another, and have just learned that I will be performing in another great show in the fall. Every time I perform, in a rehearsal or in a live show with an audience, I feel myself become a little more open. I am still in the beginning stages, I think, where I discover by feeling and operate on instinct. Technique will come with time and experience, I am sure, but I know my choices get better and better. The mousy girl from high school is gone and in her place is a hungry, vivacious woman who actually has some semblance of stage presence. Being cast in certain roles has forced me to look at myself in different lights. Why shouldn't I be the lead? Why shouldn't I be the brave one, the beautiful one, the funny one, the one who has to cry? I still face frustrations and rejections (all actors do), but I am better equipped for them now. I realize that if I am not cast in something, it's not because I suck, it's because I wasn't right for the show, or at least the director's specific vision for the show. I'm okay with that. I can say, "Whatever, I'm awesome" and move on. Part of that is me getting into my late twenties and just not giving an eff anymore, but part of that is also the confidence I have gained in the past year, and that is a direct result of my return to acting.
I'll close with this - even though (on my more cynical days) I might see my involvement with theatre as a continuous cycle of running myself ragged, sacrificing any hint of free time or a social life, and having my heart ripped in two every couple months when a show is over just as I've begun to get really close with everyone, it has taught me so much about living in the moment. Performers crave the spotlight, so we feel some of our very highest highs up on stage, and sharing that with an audience and other performers is, aside from falling in love, perhaps the closest thing to magic that exists in this world. For me, this is what makes all of the work, the sacrifice, and the heartbreak worthwhile. Those heart-pumping moments when everything else falls away and you just feel totally and completely alive.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Mawwiage
If you know me personally, you know I am a hopeless romantic. You know that I value love above all other virtues, that I love my husband with every fiber of my being, and that even before I met him I mooned around waiting for love to find me. I am really all about the love. That is why I think it is so absolutely delightful that marriage really is ultimately what is bringing this country together.
I have friends in many different parts of the country, from many different backgrounds, but today I had the great and unmatched pleasure of watching the majority of them express a single emotion in one roaring, harmonious wave. It was joy, pure, unfiltered, unadulterated joy. Anyone with a facebook account can tell you - this is rare. Many (if not most) days when I log into my account, I am half-tempted to delete myself from that world of the mundane - of the attention-seeking - of the bullshit. Not today. Today I was reminded why I want to remain connected to people. Today I am proud to be a member of the human race.
Because no matter what we all may say, what we may put forth into the world, I believe that at the core, most of us are really all about love. We may claim that we run our lives in a practical way, and some of us may even succeed in doing so sometimes, but I do very firmly believe that our most important decisions (be they good or bad) are almost always driven by love.
As I mentioned, my marriage is very important to me. It is the thing in my life that I am most proud of, and the thing that brings me the most joy. I wouldn't want anyone to be deprived of all the wonderful lessons and emotions that come with marriage, should they have the brass balls to take it on. It is my fervent hope that very soon, no one will be deprived of it again.
So much has changed in our lifetime - look what we have done. Let's keep this going. Love, live, and let others do the same.
I have friends in many different parts of the country, from many different backgrounds, but today I had the great and unmatched pleasure of watching the majority of them express a single emotion in one roaring, harmonious wave. It was joy, pure, unfiltered, unadulterated joy. Anyone with a facebook account can tell you - this is rare. Many (if not most) days when I log into my account, I am half-tempted to delete myself from that world of the mundane - of the attention-seeking - of the bullshit. Not today. Today I was reminded why I want to remain connected to people. Today I am proud to be a member of the human race.
Because no matter what we all may say, what we may put forth into the world, I believe that at the core, most of us are really all about love. We may claim that we run our lives in a practical way, and some of us may even succeed in doing so sometimes, but I do very firmly believe that our most important decisions (be they good or bad) are almost always driven by love.
As I mentioned, my marriage is very important to me. It is the thing in my life that I am most proud of, and the thing that brings me the most joy. I wouldn't want anyone to be deprived of all the wonderful lessons and emotions that come with marriage, should they have the brass balls to take it on. It is my fervent hope that very soon, no one will be deprived of it again.
So much has changed in our lifetime - look what we have done. Let's keep this going. Love, live, and let others do the same.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Princess Smoothie
I made an awesome smoothie this morning and I just wanted to share the recipe with everyone!
Combine in blender:
1/2 cup of nonfat or lowfat plain yogurt
1/3 to 1/2 cup vanilla coconut milk
1 banana, broken apart or sliced
1 tomato, sliced in 1/8's
6-8 frozen strawberries
Handful frozen berries
1 tsp chia seeds
1 spoonful honey (optional)
Blend to your preference and pour yourself the yummiest, berriest smoothie in all the land!
Combine in blender:
1/2 cup of nonfat or lowfat plain yogurt
1/3 to 1/2 cup vanilla coconut milk
1 banana, broken apart or sliced
1 tomato, sliced in 1/8's
6-8 frozen strawberries
Handful frozen berries
1 tsp chia seeds
1 spoonful honey (optional)
Blend to your preference and pour yourself the yummiest, berriest smoothie in all the land!
Saturday, March 2, 2013
My Latest Escapade
It's been a long time my old friend...
I wanted to take some time to write about a big change in my life. For years now, I have been very conscious of fitness and health. However, while I have been health conscious, I have not fully committed to being truly healthy. I have made excuses, tried to cancel out bad health deeds with good ones, and yet have still been baffled as to why I am not completely happy with my weight, my appearance, and more importantly the way I feel. Doing an hour of cardio every day does not give you license to wreak havoc on your body in all sorts of ways, which I knew, but about which I was somehow in deep denial.
A few weeks ago I decided that I would stop drinking on weeknights. Fine, no problem, a baby step I could handle. It wasn't like I was getting tipsy every night, but a glass of wine after dinner was something I always looked forward to, so I replaced it with a cup of tea and all was well. Just from that step alone, and pushing myself a little harder at the gym, I lost 3 pounds in one week. Wonderful. However, I have a bad habit of wanting to celebrate my small victories, and before I knew it those three pounds had crept back on. Whatever, Valentine's Day was partly to blame, I told myself, I'll lose that weight again. This is just one small glimpse into my health and fitness life, a constant cycle of losing and gaining, gaining back a little more every time. I was suddenly very aware of all of this, and I knew something had to change.
I went ahead and did something I had been meaning to do for a long time but never seemed to get around to doing, I watched Forks Over Knives, a documentary based upon the work of two researchers, Dr. T. Colin Campbell and Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn, plus various other doctors and average joes giving testimonials. They all spoke about the benefit of a plant-based diet, and the harm caused to our bodies by consuming animal products. There were testimonials from people who had actually turned around cancer and heart disease just from switching to a plant-based diet. I was hooked. I watched a few more documentaries, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead, Hungry for Change, and Vegucated. I won't go into detail about the rest, but Vegucated and Forks Over Knives were probably the best in my opinion. I plan on watching more, and reading more. In any case, last Sunday I went to the grocery store and I filled that cart up with the good stuff. All kinds of veggies and fruits, nuts, seeds, and healthy grains.
I won't bore you with the specifics of my menu for the week, but it consisted generally of smoothies, veggie stir-fries and scrambles, salads, and fruits, veggies, and nuts as snacks. Lots of water too. I have also not eaten any meat since Monday, and I no longer intend to do so. I can get my protein and omega 3's elsewhere and I would much rather do it that way. I love animals too much. Anyone who knows me knows that it can completely turn my mood around to even so much as look at a picture of an animal, and after seeing a few things in those documentaries that I will not share here, I just can't eat them anymore. I had a moment when I was watching one of those documentaries, and some of the unmentionable footage was being shown, and I was just overcome with sadness. I looked down at my dog Helen, who looked back up at me with her sweet, concerned, brown doggy eyes, and I just knew. Never again. I've tried this a couple times before without success, so I know a lot of people won't take me seriously for awhile, and that's fine, but I know I'm done. And I will tell you, I feel amazing. Well, today I don't feel particularly amazing because I decided last night I would "cheat" and had a whole bunch of just about the only food I could consume at Texas Roadhouse - fried pickles. You can't really go straight to eating fried food after a week of consuming mainly plants and expect to feel great. Lesson humbly learned.
So I'm a vegetarian now - what's next? Will I start to constantly reek of patchouli? Quit my job to work at a farmer's market? Grow out my leg and armpit hair? Who knows what will happen. I'd like to go full vegan eventually, that will be more of a challenge. For now I'll be focusing on trying to find local, truly free range eggs, local cheese when I want it, and more healthy versions of everyday products like flour. I want to start juicing too. As of today I am getting rid of Myfitnesspal and just focusing on eating healthy and targeting the right nutrient groups, you can't go wrong there.
To sum up, in general I feel awesome after this week. I have more energy, I am excited to start the day when I wake up, I look forward to eating instead of associating it with guilt, and as an added bonus I have lost 5 pounds. This time it's staying off, and will soon be joined by more weight I don't need. I don't have a specific number in mind, I'm just going to focus on healthy eating and getting a good amount of exercise and the rest will take care of itself. I feel this was the best gift I could give myself as I head into the second half of my twenties - a healthier and more sustainable way of life.
I welcome discussion, I know not everyone is convinced of the things I have become convinced of, but I do expect people to respect my choice, as I will respect and reserve judgment of your health choices as well.
Stay well everyone! I hope you all have a marvelous weekend.
Mandy
I wanted to take some time to write about a big change in my life. For years now, I have been very conscious of fitness and health. However, while I have been health conscious, I have not fully committed to being truly healthy. I have made excuses, tried to cancel out bad health deeds with good ones, and yet have still been baffled as to why I am not completely happy with my weight, my appearance, and more importantly the way I feel. Doing an hour of cardio every day does not give you license to wreak havoc on your body in all sorts of ways, which I knew, but about which I was somehow in deep denial.
A few weeks ago I decided that I would stop drinking on weeknights. Fine, no problem, a baby step I could handle. It wasn't like I was getting tipsy every night, but a glass of wine after dinner was something I always looked forward to, so I replaced it with a cup of tea and all was well. Just from that step alone, and pushing myself a little harder at the gym, I lost 3 pounds in one week. Wonderful. However, I have a bad habit of wanting to celebrate my small victories, and before I knew it those three pounds had crept back on. Whatever, Valentine's Day was partly to blame, I told myself, I'll lose that weight again. This is just one small glimpse into my health and fitness life, a constant cycle of losing and gaining, gaining back a little more every time. I was suddenly very aware of all of this, and I knew something had to change.
I went ahead and did something I had been meaning to do for a long time but never seemed to get around to doing, I watched Forks Over Knives, a documentary based upon the work of two researchers, Dr. T. Colin Campbell and Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn, plus various other doctors and average joes giving testimonials. They all spoke about the benefit of a plant-based diet, and the harm caused to our bodies by consuming animal products. There were testimonials from people who had actually turned around cancer and heart disease just from switching to a plant-based diet. I was hooked. I watched a few more documentaries, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead, Hungry for Change, and Vegucated. I won't go into detail about the rest, but Vegucated and Forks Over Knives were probably the best in my opinion. I plan on watching more, and reading more. In any case, last Sunday I went to the grocery store and I filled that cart up with the good stuff. All kinds of veggies and fruits, nuts, seeds, and healthy grains.
I won't bore you with the specifics of my menu for the week, but it consisted generally of smoothies, veggie stir-fries and scrambles, salads, and fruits, veggies, and nuts as snacks. Lots of water too. I have also not eaten any meat since Monday, and I no longer intend to do so. I can get my protein and omega 3's elsewhere and I would much rather do it that way. I love animals too much. Anyone who knows me knows that it can completely turn my mood around to even so much as look at a picture of an animal, and after seeing a few things in those documentaries that I will not share here, I just can't eat them anymore. I had a moment when I was watching one of those documentaries, and some of the unmentionable footage was being shown, and I was just overcome with sadness. I looked down at my dog Helen, who looked back up at me with her sweet, concerned, brown doggy eyes, and I just knew. Never again. I've tried this a couple times before without success, so I know a lot of people won't take me seriously for awhile, and that's fine, but I know I'm done. And I will tell you, I feel amazing. Well, today I don't feel particularly amazing because I decided last night I would "cheat" and had a whole bunch of just about the only food I could consume at Texas Roadhouse - fried pickles. You can't really go straight to eating fried food after a week of consuming mainly plants and expect to feel great. Lesson humbly learned.
So I'm a vegetarian now - what's next? Will I start to constantly reek of patchouli? Quit my job to work at a farmer's market? Grow out my leg and armpit hair? Who knows what will happen. I'd like to go full vegan eventually, that will be more of a challenge. For now I'll be focusing on trying to find local, truly free range eggs, local cheese when I want it, and more healthy versions of everyday products like flour. I want to start juicing too. As of today I am getting rid of Myfitnesspal and just focusing on eating healthy and targeting the right nutrient groups, you can't go wrong there.
To sum up, in general I feel awesome after this week. I have more energy, I am excited to start the day when I wake up, I look forward to eating instead of associating it with guilt, and as an added bonus I have lost 5 pounds. This time it's staying off, and will soon be joined by more weight I don't need. I don't have a specific number in mind, I'm just going to focus on healthy eating and getting a good amount of exercise and the rest will take care of itself. I feel this was the best gift I could give myself as I head into the second half of my twenties - a healthier and more sustainable way of life.
I welcome discussion, I know not everyone is convinced of the things I have become convinced of, but I do expect people to respect my choice, as I will respect and reserve judgment of your health choices as well.
Stay well everyone! I hope you all have a marvelous weekend.
Mandy
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