Authentic Me Coming Out

I would like to attempt to live a more honest life, a more open life, and a more loving life.  How can I live life to the fullest if I am not an open and honest person about who I am - not only with myself, but also with those I love?  And how can I love someone to the fullest if there is not open communication between us -- if they do not know who I am and what I stand for, and if I keep that from them?  How can I live up to my full potential to be the greatest human being I can be if I am not comfortable in my own skin and walk each day in fear of being judged or abandoned by those whose opinions matter most to me?

 

The Human Rights Campaign's resource guide to "coming out" opens with this line:

 

"Being brave doesn’t mean that you’re not scared. It means that if you are scared, you do the thing you’re afraid of anyway."

 

This is such a strong statement to me.  I am a three-plus generation "agoraphobe."  I put that in quotations because it has never been diagnosed in my family, but agoraphobia involves repeated attacks of fear or anxiety, fear of being unable to escape a situation, and fear of being outside or alone outside.  Agoraphobic people tend to be homebodies and depend on others.  They feel uncomfortable in certain (sometimes specific) public situations.  All of this describes certain unnamed members of my family and certain symptoms they have handed down to me.

 

So, you see, I know something about being afraid and having to be brave.  And it is VERY hard to do -- whether physically or emotionally.

 

The guide goes on to state, "There is no one right or wrong way to come out.  It’s a lifelong process of being ever more open and true with yourself and others — done in your own way and in your own time."

 

Now that's personal.  As a writer and "student of life," one of my greatest life philosophies is something Stella Adler said.  "This is not a 'course in drama.'  It is a course in opening up the vastness in you as a human being...There is no other way to grow except through an art form today.  A few hundred years ago, maybe religion could do it.  But today, only the art form is able to stretch a human being so he can measure up to his potential to grow and grow and understand himself and his life until the end.  We are here to get that."

 

That IS my life's goal.  To "open up the vastness" in me as a human being, and to "grow and grow and understand myself and my life until the end," and not just my own, but through that growth, to understand the human experience -- to live the lives of my fellow humans. Susannah Grant said, "Writing is the way to cheat the rule that says you have only one life to live."  I completely agree.

 

But, then, how can I live those lives and understand life completely if I am holding myself back?  I don't think I can, and I don't think I want to anymore.

 

In that way, I very deeply identify with my LGBT friends who "make deeply personal decisions to be open about who we are with ourselves and others -- even when it isn't easy."  And I envy those of them who do, for their ability to walk around in life with the sun on their face, not hiding who they truly are and what they honestly feel within themselves.

 

And before you say, "That's their business!  I don't need to know!" I would strongly encourage you to have a look at the section on "Deciding to Tell Others" in the Human Rights Campaign's guide to coming out.  Perhaps then you would better understand why it is important for you to know the deeply personal truth.

 

It is about being honest and authentic.  We are taught a lot of things about what is right and wrong growing up, and for many of us, it doesn't feel good to conceal something, particularly if it is about who we are. 

 

When I was waiting tables, the thing I hated most of all was having to flash fake smiles at customers for tips.  Why couldn't it be okay to smile at them when I wanted to smile at them instead of having to smile and pretend everything was okay even when the customer really wasn't being decent to me?  It made me feel like I was selling my smiles -- like I didn't value my own integrity or myself.

 

I feel horrible for anyone who feels like they can't live a life where they are true to themselves and others, or anyone who hates what they do or is unhappy but has to keep pretending things are okay in order to survive.  It is a terrible, awful feeling and it really does cause a person to question what the point of life is if we can't be happy just being who we are.

 

But "coming out" isn't just about feeling good -- it is about sorting out the people who we can count on, who really love us no matter what.  If I love you, I want you to know the real me.  If you love the real me, then our love is real.  If you can't love the real me for who she is, then our relationship was obviously on shaky ground to start with.  I don't want that.  So I have to tell the truth.

 

Joe Solmonese, the Human Rights Campaign President, put it like this:

 

"More than anything else, I think the thing that drives each of us to come out is an intensely human desire to be known and loved authentically for who we are.  That is something everyone can relate to — and something we should celebrate and honor in one another."

 

No, I am not building up to a big reveal about my sexual orientation.  But I deeply identify with my LGBT friends who have to decide whether they will come out, how and when and where they will come out and to whom. 

 

It is an absolutely terrifying thought that people you love might not love you back anymore if they find out who you really are and what you really believe and stand for.  It leaves a sickening pit in one's stomach.

 

And that's not even worrying about everyday friends.  Friends are people you plan to be able to count on or fall back on when you can't go to your family about something, but what if you yank the rug out from under them, too? 

 

I am afraid that I have not been openly supportive enough of my own gay friends when they came out to me or dropped hints about their orientation, and I am saddened every day at the thought that my own casual attitude about it might have actually driven them further from me instead of making them feel accepted.

 

I am coming out as a straight supporter.

I am coming out as a woman who will tell you she understands how close two females can be and how much they can love each other, whether straight or gay.

Some of the greatest loves of my life have been women.

I envy drag queens.  I love them -- their hair, their clothes, and their attitudes.  I aspire to be as comfortable being who I am and doing what I love as they are.

I am coming out as a liberal.  Obviously.  No, I'm not conservative.  There was a time when I was on the fence and identified with different issues from different angles.  Lately, I am having more and more trouble agreeing and identifying with anything and everything the Conservative Party does.  That isn't to say I agree with everything the Democrats do, but taking away basic human rights and punishing people like my loved ones with suppressive laws makes my head spin.  I cannot understand it or find any decent justification for it.

I am coming out that I believe that every person is entitled to worship in his or her own way.  I am very interested in many religions and cultures and would rather learn about them than judge them.  I believe we have more in common than most people would allow themselves to see.

My family brought me up to believe in God, follow the Bible, and declare Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.  When I was a baby, I was not traditionally baptized.  I was, however, dedicated to the Lord by my parents.  I do believe that Jesus died on a cross for my sins.

However, I also believe there are many ways to fulfill a spiritual need and that need is different for everyone.

I am coming out that I would not classify myself as a traditional Christian. My spirituality is not based on only one belief system.

There is a great spiritual plan for me.

I am coming out that I am okay with people who identify themselves as Secular Humanist, Agnostic, or Atheist.

I am telling you that if Hell, as it was taught to me growing up, is real, and if sin as it was taught to me growing up is literally that, then I am going to Hell.  However, I just want to be me and to be true to what I feel inside of myself, so if that's the case, all I can do is be the best person I know how to be with integrity and honesty and face Hell willingly.

It is one thing to believe in Jesus but another to follow all the rules and let other people dictate to you who you are supposed to be and what you are supposed to believe.  That detail should be left between the individual and their god.

I am strongly coming out that I do still consider myself to be an actress.  I define that process as being a student of life and observer of people.  I analyze human behavior.  I interpret scripts, stories, and dialogue between people.  I want to share the things I learn with others.

"The word theatre comes from the Greeks. It means the seeing place. It is the place people come to see the truth about life and the social situation. The theatre is a spiritual and social X-ray of its time. The theatre was created to tell people the truth about life and the social situation."

I am emphasizing that I am a writer.  It goes along with the acting thing.  I mostly write about women and issues involving women.  My characters range from traditional white housewives to black lesbians, from little girls with irresponsible mothers to older women who discover who they really are for the first time.

I am emphasizing that I do desperately want to make a living doing what I love and what I feel I was born to do.  I feel more than anything else that I was put on this earth for that purpose.  It is my calling.  However, it is my calling whether I make money at it or not.  So no matter how unreasonable it may seem, I will continue to write and seek recognition for who I am and what I want to do.

I am coming out that I have very open-minded views about marriage.  I live with my boyfriend of 7+ years.  We would like to be married someday, but it has to be at the right time and for the right reasons for US, and if that day never comes, we will be okay.  We are only sorry that this aspect of OUR relationship causes so much concern for those we love.

I am coming out as a huge fan.  Of many things and people.  Almost everyone I know is a fan of something or someone.  I don't understand why I should feel judged for what I love when other people aren't.

I am coming out as a singer. 

I also get terrible stage fright when singing. 

I also dream of working with my favorite actresses. 

"Being brave … means that if you are scared, you do the thing you’re afraid of anyway."

I am coming out as a person who cannot tolerate injustice or abuse.  I have a really hard time watching people I love accept it.  When it is dealt to me, chances are I'm going to fight myself into a hole, tooth and nail, and once that's done I have to cut my losses and move on before things get worse. 

One of these days maybe people will stop sitting back and allowing bad things to happen to good people.

I am coming out as a potty mouth.  I control my language professionally and out of respect for other people.

I am coming out as a supporter of immigrants.  Some of the most patriotic people I have met are people who were not born in this country, but they understand the fundamental values which the United States of America were founded on when OUR ancestors came here as people who were discriminated against, fearing for their lives, servants and slaves.  They are willing to work as hard as we ask them to for the opportunity to stay here.  They know all the words of the Pledge of Allegiance, what the Statue of Liberty stands for, and the words on her plaque.  They want opportunity and liberty as much as we do.

I am most certainly coming out as a supporter of teachers and unions.  I come from the working class and I know how hard it is to be a teacher.  I know what teachers are going through right now with the recession and all that embattled public schools are demanding of them. 

As a worker, I know that companies are pushing and stretching their employees further and further to save a few dollars.  I know how exhausted, frustrated and beleaguered Americans are right now.

I am coming out as a supporter of the arts and the arts in schools.  Every person needs an outlet, a form of creativity, a way to express their individuality, or just an enhancement to the basic skills they need to know in life.  I know that debate rages, so I'll leave it at that.

And yes, I do get passionate about things that seem trivial to others.  When I do, just listen -- you might see something in a different light.

I am coming out as a person who has always been afraid to be myself, and who doesn't want to live that way anymore.  Take it or leave it.  I want to walk with my face in the sun.  I want to be honest with my family, friends, and my spiritual deity.  I want to stop being afraid to act differently, to believe differently, to disagree and voice my own opinions.

I want my soul to be comfortable in my body and my life.

So from now on, I promise to be respectful of your opinions, but to be proud of my own if they're different.  Sometimes part of respecting you will require me to step back, or keep my mouth shut, but I will no longer question my own ideals when faced with your judgments on them. 

I will no longer feel guilty when someone tries to tell me that living this way or that way is right or wrong, particularly when they have not even considered walking a mile in my shoes, and particularly when they have not paused to question me - myself - about the decisions I make. 

Your understanding of me is limited to your level of open-mindedness.  I do promise to always try to understand you and where you are coming from, and to listen, and I expect that same consideration.  We will not always agree, and I will not expect us to.  You shouldn't either.  Agreeing to disagree is more important than losing a person you love because of stubborn ways.

And yes, I am stubborn, so I may need a gentle reminder now and then of the promises I have made to you and to myself. 

Fights will happen.  But so will apologies and forgiveness, if you let them.

I have opened my heart and let you look inside.  I will always try to authentically do so, but you must understand that hearts are vulnerable and I will sometimes need to protect myself.

Most importantly, I hope that my being more open and honest will allow others that I love to live more authentically -- despite what the society they live in tells them about how to live, or believe or survive.

I am so full of love and passion and curiosity about life and the world and others.  Life is so short, but it can be a great journey, and I am so grateful to those who have allowed me into their hearts; and the best I can do is to honor them for that by aspiring to their level of unwavering love and openness.

Lost Angeles

I knew I was going to move to Los Angeles for years before I actually did it.  People thought I was obsessed and my high school teachers rolled their eyes every time I mentioned Hollywood, L.A., or the things that were going to happen in my life after I graduated and flew the coop.  If I had to do a geography report, career report, Spanish project, sociology report -- you name it -- my subject matter was predictable.  I knew that Los Angeles was short for El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula (The Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels on the Porciúncula River) even before I had access to the Internet -- thanks to a book we had to use back then called an encyclopedia!

When the summer after my senior year finally rolled around I had three choices -- three roads to choose from.  The first and most obvious choice was Ball State -- a school far enough away from home that people probably wouldn't drop by unexpectedly but close enough that someone could get to me in an emergency.  A teacher I respected a lot told me that she thought I would be very comfortable there because it had a small town feel (as opposed to an overwhelming large university campus).  My second choice was Marymount Manhattan College in New York City.  I had interviewed over the phone and had not qualified for many scholarships.  The amount that I was expected to pay for tuition (also known as "family contribution") was pretty much the same amount that it would cost for tuition at choice number three -- acting school in L.A.  Neither Marymount Manhattan or Stella Adler Academy offered student housing, and I actually wasn't even considering acting school seriously because going to college was the right thing to do.  I was told by my guidance counselor that if I moved to New York I would end up in a gutter.  She literally told me that.

My dad was arranging our trip to New York with the travel agent but I had an icky feeling about something -- something just didn't feel right.  We discussed it.  The only thing I could put my finger on was that I was not looking forward to New York weather.  I really wanted to go to Hollywood.  He called the travel agent.  My grandmother bought me a new, sleek, feminine, sleeveless pinstripe suit to wear to my interview with the stipulation that I had to fit in it by the time I left.  I did.

L.A. felt good the minute I stepped out of LAX.  I can't really explain it except that the climate was perfect, the city felt energetic, and I felt connected to something inexplicable -- like for the first time I was part of something historic that my heroes were part of, too.

I could tell a thousand different stories about the places I lived, the places I visited, the people I met and spoke to, the pieces of the city that became familiar to me and that I started to claim as my own, the descriptions of the city that were proven wrong, and the ironies of my experiences versus what people back home assumed about them.  I lived in L.A. on and off for only about two years, and it has been almost 10 years since I left.

Still, even looking at pictures makes me feel like I am looking at a place I can call one of my homes -- a place where even when I tried to grow up too fast and lost track of my true self, I still feel like was the only place in the world where I was allowed to really be myself.

I made a point to take a lot of pictures when I lived in L.A. and I took some really-really good ones, but back then we used something called film ... so they are mostly in boxes, scrapbooks and in black plastic canisters, undeveloped.

My first stop in L.A. was the Hyatt on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood.  The balcony faced the entire city.  I had no idea how much time I would spend in West Hollywood during the next couple of years.

The Highland Gardens Hotel on Franklin became my "most often" home.  I'm not telling you which room but since it faced the street and not the pool, I got to watch the limos drive by and the searchlights dance in the sky on premiere nights.  The hotel has been refurbished and re-glamorized since then.  The Hollywood I lived in was a little more gritty and ... realistic?

When I lived in Hollywood, I had to walk through the madness in front of the Chinese Theatre every day on the way to school.  Braving the tourists, sweet Mexican guy in the tourist shop that always wanted to talk, and the French guys in front of the Roosevelt Hotel was the obvious choice in comparison to the creepy, off-the-beaten-path streets before the Hollywood & Highland Center/Kodak Theatre was built.  I was there when they gave Kevin Spacey his star next to the big black plywood wall that hid the construction.

I spent hours and hours here at Stella Adler Academy, which shared the building with a little ice cream shop (that also sold cigarettes, I think?) the Snow White Cafe, and the Wax Museum.  They liked to sneak celebrities in through the service elevator in back that students were not supposed to use.

This is an authentic speakeasy from the old days that they keep hidden in the walls of the school/theaters.  They pretty much only open it for special events and/or cast parties when people have paid the right price to use it.  That bookcase on the right opens to a hidden staircase leading to the roof so people could hide if the police came.  The greats of Hollywood used to party here.  During the L.A. bus strike when I was stuck in Hollywood for hours on end, I volunteered and was honored to clean this place after a party, but was appalled that anyone could make a mess in there because I felt it was a place to be honored.  I couldn't get the mirrors to quit streaking and was told later that there was hairspray on them because they'd been filming in there and it reduced the glare.  Some guys that were going back and forth in the hallway working on a set were going nuts because James Coburn was in the building.  It turned out he was filming his part in a fundraising video that I cannot for the life of me find online anywhere!

Toward the end of my stay in L.A., I used to hike up Runyon Canyon a lot.  From this popular vantage point you could see my hotel at the bottom, my school on the far left, and downtown in the far distance.  It usually looked less hazy and more smoggy than this, but the sky as I remember it was blue.

None of this was here!  I do remember peeking in as I walked by from time to time and seeing that white elephant and some of the Egyptian architecture, but for the most part the Renaissance Hotel in the background was a construction site and Hollywood and Highland was a stop on the new red line metro rail that I rode in from the valley -- Van Nuys to Sherman Oaks via Sepulveda, Sherman Oaks to Universal City via the Rapid Bus on Ventura, and then down the rail to Hollywood.  (By the way, the Sherman Oaks Galleria was a construction site then, too.  I worked across the street at Sisley.)

I love these "Photographs of Hollywood by Scott Supak" because they show the grittier vantage of the streets that are familiar.

I also very much enjoyed reading this article that really captured the essence of L.A. -- "On (Not) Leaving Los Angeles" by Sarah LaBrie at This Recording.

If any of the images above belong to you and you would rather I didn't use them, I apologize and will happily remove them.  You can tell me here.

Gloria Stuart

I just want to take a moment to acknowledge Gloria Stuart at her passing.

I don't think she was really a household name at all, but mention "Old Rose" from Titanic and almost everyone knows who you are talking about. (Those are usually the type of actresses I tend to admire.)

I don't want to focus on the fact that she played a supporting role in that 1997 film (over 10 years ago!) but I have to draw a comparison between the movie and what Gloria Stuart represents to me.

I went to see Titanic with my grandparents and my cousin on New Year's Eve, late in the evening. Since the movie ran for over three hours, it was 1998 by the time we stepped out of the theatre. I have seen Titanic since then, but believe me, you can't really fully appreciate Titanic (or many other movies of that proportion) unless you see it FULL SIZE - in the theater, with only the light of what is happening on the screen before you and the sounds surrounding you.

We laughed at the funny parts, gasped at the scary parts, and cried like babies during the tragic and heartbreaking parts. As we left the theatre we discussed the movie and traded our experiences.

THAT is what great movies should do to people.

As I said, I don't want to focus on the fact that Gloria Stuart played the storyteller in that movie, because that particular moment in her career should not be what defines it. I do remember watching the Oscars that year (Titanic swept, by the way) and feeling such great respect and admiration for the oldest actress ever nominated for an Academy Award. To me, that proved that you are never too old to do what you love.

Recently, I've had to amend that lesson:

You're never too old to keep doing what you love.

You see, Gloria Stuart was always an actress, and she was in some pretty recognizable movies besides Titanic. It is just that our current generation has lost touch with the mystique of her era. We look back with awe at movies like Gone with the Wind and those great old classic Hollywood musicals and wonder from a distance what it must have been like to be part of that glamour and magic. I read autobiographies of actresses and see scenes like Katharine Hepburn running into Ginger Rogers and it is like some surreal, distant fiction - too good to be true. I look at old black and white photos of studio gatherings, parties, or movie sets and it doesn't feel like I'm looking back a generation or two. It feels like I'm looking at another time and another world.

(And maybe that's why movies like Titanic are that fascinating. They aspire to that level of Hollywood greatness.)

I have heard more than one actor complain that Wikipedia is grossly inaccurate, but I have to say it may be one of the best resources for finding out information - in a general sense if not an accurate one - about people we wouldn't otherwise be able to research without considerable effort. Gloria Stuart's page on the encyclopedia gives you the sense of who she was and what she meant to Hollywood.

Movie roles aside, Gloria Stuart, it says, was born in Santa Monica - not far from Hollywood. Several people in her family were accomplished in their own careers. It says she dropped out of Berkeley to get married, and was not only active in theatre, but in the world of art, and knew several prominent artists. It also features a picture of her with the other "WAMPAS Baby Stars" in 1932 (seen above).

(WAMPAS is the Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers who picked starlets every year and introduced them at a grand party. More info HERE and HERE.)

Her Wikipedia article also claims she was a founding member of the Screen Actors Guild.  However, the article for SAG says she was one of the members who was especially supportive in the early years (and not necessarily a founder).  Stuart was an activist and surely played a key role in actors having the rights they do in their workplaces today.

(A side note:  She apparently also volunteered to join the French Resistance around the time of World War II, when she and her second husband were visiting France, but was turned down.  She ended up taking singing lessons and entertaining troops.)

Still active in the art world, she also owned her own shop and later created artists' books, some of which ended up in the Metropolitan Museum, Library of Congress, J. Paul Getty Museum, and Bibliothèque nationale de France, to name a few places.

Two lines stand out to me in the whole article.

• "Stuart was a versatile female lead, but was never given the roles that would make her a major star, a source of great frustration."

• "Stuart died in her sleep on September 26, 2010 at the age of 100, due to respiratory failure."

She wrote an autobiography -- I Just Kept Hoping.  It has just been added to my list!  I will always look up to Gloria Stuart.  She did what she loved wholeheartedly, tirelessly, endlessly.

Recommended:  "Gloria Stuart, an Actress Rediscovered Late, Dies at 100" By ALJEAN HARMETZ and ROBERT BERKVIST on NYTimes.com

Why Robin Strasser Has to Write Her Autobiography

I am sorry to say that I am not good at writing letters of support (also known as "fan letters") because I feel like I've had a very bad experience in the past due to this great practice.  It isn't that I don't support the Arts, my favorite actors, or what I consider to be the best shows.  What it is ... is that I do not want to alter anyone's perception of me -- particularly that of people I want to consider to be colleagues that I greatly respect or admire ... rather than people I "look up to" or "idolize."  For the same reason, I am very leery of pursuing my current in-road into becoming a soap blogger or soap media.  It is all about perception, and how I want to be perceived.  If I do actually pen and mail a letter, I often forget to include the ever-important SASE.  I'm just not in the habit, because 8 out of 10 times (and that may be a literal count), I don't require or want a response.

I suppose, by definition, I am a fanatic.  I am a passionate and enthusiastic student of life, myself, behavior, art, varying perspectives, and how to deal with all of that.  Robin Strasser once pointed out that the Latin root of the word "diva" refers to the "divine."  Well, the Latin root of the word "fan" just refers to someone who is "inspired" by the divine.

Still, I abhor the idea of being referred to as a "fan."  Call me inspired, yes.  Call me passionate, yes.  Call me enthusiastic, yes.  Call me a student, yes!

...But do not write me off.  Do not wander away down a hall making a comment that lumps me into a category with thousands of starry-eyed young girls trying to find their way in the world.  Do not call me into a dressing room to say hello and never expect to see me again, let alone work with me.  Do not look at me wistfully, as if glancing into the past, and tell me that I'll understand "someday."

Consider me now.

I am here to learn.

That being said, I can now explain why it is so extremely important to me that this particular actress writes her autobiography, and includes as much brutal honesty about her life in it as possible.

Books written by actors first became very crucial to me when I was studying at Stella Adler Academy and realized there was a huge "generational gap" between Stella Adler and myself.  I was being taught by her students, so in a way she became like my "acting grandmother."  I felt a real sense of detachment from her direct wisdom, but thanks to the insight of Kate Mulgrew, who spoke at the Adler, and reading some notes that were written in Stella's own words, or came directly from her mouth, I was able to begin growing in my understanding of what, exactly, she was trying to teach the acting world.

The next influential book I (tried) to read was Colleen Dewhurst's autobiography.  She spoke a lot about the intricacies of the acting world at large, including summer stock, unions, her journey as an actress, plays and parts, and wisdoms about life she picked up along the way.  I found myself so intrigued that I had to take notes.  After I realized I had checked the book out of the library for several months in a row without completing it (mostly because I wanted to keep it), I was embarrassed and returned the book, promising myself that I'd check it out again later or buy it.

I also read Katharine Hepburn's autobiography, which holds a special place in my heart since I bought it in the gift shop at the theatre where I saw "Tea at Five" in Hartford.  It also shared a lot, in her own words, about the business, how to survive it, and what her own teachers taught her.  Of course, her stories offered some alternate perspectives and techniques to what I had already learned, which taught me in return, and which I'm grateful for.

Currently, I'm attempting to read Ellen Burstyn's autobiography -- another one that I'm struggling through because so much of it seems so profound to me.  In particular, she learned slightly different acting techniques than I did, and much of her struggle in the beginning dealt with learning that it is okay to be imperfect.  That is something I have struggled to teach myself, as well, thanks to her revelation.  I am also enjoying reading about her spiritual journey very much.

I have a list of more autobiographies by actresses (colleagues) I admire that I want to read and learn from in the future.  When Robin Strasser's book is released, it will jump to the top of that list.

Why?  Because I know that she has dealt with a problem that we share and a struggle that few people in our position comprehend.  It has crippled me and my career time and again, but she has dealt with it successfully.  It is an issue that never really seems to go away -- a hindering one -- but a difficulty that one can function with and have a beautiful career and life despite of.  I have not figured it out.  She has, by her own admission, smiled through it at times.  I am grasping and desperate for her understanding -- for her unsolicited or perhaps unintentional encouragement -- on how to keep functioning and moving forward when it feels like the world is trying to swallow you.

In the meantime, to quote Dory from Finding Nemo, I "just keep swimming," and keep learning, and keep trying to figure it out.  I'm having a blast, and I'm excited about the future.  Still, my desire to be more, to do more, and to learn more is never quenched, and I'm very impatient about it all!  Those who know me very well are aware of the underlying reasons for my impatience -- which, simply put, involve a lot of time running out and a lot of missed opportunities that are or were beyond my control.  ...Time running out and missed opportunities with loved ones, teachers, and those I, myself, have influenced.

I just want to learn so much.  I want to understand.  I want to continue to grow, every day.  I want varying perspectives.  I want insight.  I want to, at the end of my life, say that I was the best person I could have possibly been -- no regrets, no missed opportunities, no pauses in the growth process -- despite fears, hinderances, or unavoidable conflicts.

I use a cheat sheet -- I look at the lives of others, see through their eyes, and learn from their lessons.  I have peeked at Robin Strasser's notes, and I want to see more!

A Treasure in the Unexpected

A year ago, I spent much of my days during the winter with my grandmother.  This is a woman I have always felt that I know a lot about.  I know her hobbies, what annoys her, the way she stews and frets over the situations her family finds themselves in, the tragedies she has faced, her unfinished goals, and the fact that she would probably not like it one bit if she knew I was writing about her.

I practically grew up in her home.  We lived two miles away, but moved in for a long time after our house burned down, and spent many days and nights there even after our new house was built while my mother helped care for my grandfather.

When I moved away to California against the wishes of most of my family, including her, she signed a card that she sent to me with the word “love.”  That was assumed, but seeing it in writing was unexpected.  “I love you,” was not something we often said aloud.

When I moved in with my boyfriend against my family’s wishes, I knew how she felt about it, but the way she honestly expressed her opinion to me without chastising me like a child was unexpected.  She also listened and tried to understand my decision.

I spent the winter with her sharing many expected, familiar, and comforting things, like cheese melted over the cauliflower, concern for each other’s well-being, crocheted doilies, watering the plants, and a shared sense of humor.

She also shared many unexpected things with me.  I spent many conversations with her learning about her childhood, early-married life, the confidence she was forced to find as an Army wife, the frustrations she faced with in-laws and new babies, and the indescribable loss of her twin sister to cancer.

I already knew most of these things from a historical standpoint, but I didn’t know them from her emotional point of view.

I also learned that we enjoyed the same television shows and books, but would never admit it to each other.  We would never want each other to know that were interested in the lives of characters so directly opposite of us.  Still, spending hours together each day laughing at the same jokes and reacting similarly to stories or situations can be very telling!

Reflecting back on all that I learned that winter, I have come to the realization that I was not just learning my grandmother’s history, feelings and secret quirks.  I was looking in a mirror.  In her, I was learning about myself.

Was she setting this example and revealing these tidbits to me on purpose?  I have no doubt that she is aware of the lessons I need to learn from her and has been conveying them to me in her own way.

“Don’t be like me,” she has said aloud.

From a quiet, simple woman who prefers to stay home and engage in calm activities, I have been introduced very strongly to the concept of stepping out of my comfort zone and speaking up.  I have seen that confidence in her that she never displays, and though I completely understand why she keeps it to herself, I also understand that she showed it to me because I need it.  That was unexpected.

While we spoke of other things, without word or action, she instilled in me the very thing that will help me be the woman I need to be in this life, and the woman she hopes I am; perhaps even the woman she wishes that she could have been.

Still, I don’t think either one of us would change a thing about her.

10 Signs of Spring

Every year, between about the middle of February and the end of April, I start getting spring fever. It probably all really begins with Groundhog Day at the beginning of February, when I hope the groundhog doesn’t see his shadow. I guess that’s the day when I first really start thinking about spring being just around the bend.

But somewhere between the middle of February and the middle of March, there will be a random few days of spring weather. Suddenly, I’ll be able to go out with just a sweater on, or short sleeves and a jacket. The sun will shine, and we may even get a thunderstorm, uncharacteristic of the season. The warm weather will stick around just long enough to get hopes up and then….

The next week there will be frost on the windshield and snow will be in the forecast. And at that moment, I’m wishing for spring more than ever!

Waiting for spring shouldn’t have to be a long, drawn-out time of false hopes and disappointment. Meeting the new season and all the possibility that comes with it can be a magical time, full of child-like wonder. Here are some things to watch for and keep track of in the coming months, to help you make it through the rest of the winter, and the unpredictable temperatures that go along with it.

1. The sun will come up earlier. It may be a gradual change that you usually won’t notice, or a few rainy days may help it surprise you on the first sunny day to greet you in the morning. You might notice the light coming through your bedroom window as your alarm goes off, or the colors in the sky as you drive to work. Maybe you’ll have to put your sunglasses on more often as the earth tilts back toward the sun again. Watch for the sun in the morning. The more you notice it, the closer we are to being warm again. (Just don’t be too disappointed when daylight savings time sets it back again! It is still there!)

2. Happy little birds will sing. Slowly, they’ll start heading north again for the summer, and when they do you’ll surely notice their tale-tale signs. You’ll see the birds more as they build their nests for the eggs that are soon to follow. And in the morning, as that sun comes up, you’ll hear them chirping away – a noisy, noticeable sound after the winter hush. You should also be listening for those distant honking noises from the sky as the geese fly back to Canada in their flying Vs.

3. The grass will turn green. At first it may be dim – just a few patches of green surrounded by all the brown in the yard and fields. The green will peek out slowly, barely noticeable in a sea of gray, dormant trees, empty fields and “dead” lawns. There will probably even be times when just when you think you start to notice the life returning to the ground, it will be covered in snow or frost again. Keep in mind that even the snow is bringing more life, and that grass is going to get greener and greener as the winter gives way to spring.

4. Trees will bud. Again, this isn’t going to be that noticeable at first. You may have to actually go out and inspect a tree limb to see it. Ever so slowly, what looks like the end of a stick will grow into a funny little shape. Eventually, that funny little branch will change to a different color – often a deep red or pink – still hardly noticeable. Then one day, a happy little bud, a vibrant color, will greet you! This is a sure sign that spring will be soon, for when the new season finally hits, that bud is going to explode into a blossom, a flower, or even a tiny pastel shade of green baby leaf!

5. Flowers will bloom. Watch for them! Crocuses and lilies are some of the earliest announcements of spring, often popping up out of the ground to surprise you even before the last frost or snow. Sprinkled in the increasingly green grasses will be tiny spring beauties, little blue stars, deep purple wild violets and fluffy pink and white clover! Next, brightly colored tulips will begin to open and by that time you should be seeing the green grass and flowering trees without even having to look for them!

6. Egg shells will fall. If you spend any time under the trees or outdoors, have a closer look. You may notice delicate baby blue, white, or light pink speckled eggs shells, cracked in half, lying on the ground. Baby birds won’t be far from these broken little eggs, ugly and hungry, waiting for those birds that have been singing in the morning to bring them their dinner!

7. Little lambs will bleat! The animal world, which may have seemed to disappear for the last month or two, will return in force! You’ll smell skunks, spot deer, and might even notice little varmints running around your yard again. When you drive past a farm, watch for the little baby livestock – most noticeably baby calves, lambs and horses first learning to walk, then run and play!

8. White shoes will appear! As we near Easter, fashion will be changing! Long before we’re comfortable with shorts and sandals, open-toed shoes and practical outdoor clothing will begin to appear in catalogues and store displays. People will be dressing up for Easter and preparing for spring and summer weddings. Get ready to see more vibrant colors and lighter shoes on store shelves and on the people walking down the street – maybe even in your closet!

9. The world will be spruced up! As people begin to get antsy for spring you’ll be seeing them outdoors more often. Hedges will be trimmed, mulch put into flower beds, drives and sidewalks swept clean, window-shades thrown open, and fields and gardens tilled and planted in neat little rows. This is perhaps one of the most exciting signs of spring, because once those crops are in the ground, there is no going back!

10. You might get hot! Dare we say it? That heater you’ve had on in your car is going to get switched over to the air conditioner before you even think you’re ready for it or need it! Increasingly unpredictable temperatures on the cusp of spring will probably leave you dressed in a long-sleeve sweater on a day with a high in the 70s! Walking to the mailbox might actually even make you break a sweat in the warm sun, something you’ve become unaccustomed to in the winter months! Get ready! That’s going to be the norm as summer begins to approach!

Let's Talk About Betty White

After the world watched Betty White and Abe Vigoda play tackle football in a candy bar commercial during the Super Bowl -- specifically the best commercial that aired during the event (according to USA TODAY's Ad Meter) -- everyone was talking about her.

Of course, the actress most commonly recognized as Rose Nylund from The Golden Girls has never stopped acting.  Her recent appearances on Ugly Betty, Craig Ferguson, The Bold and the Beautiful, and Boston Legal are just a few of the many places television audiences have seen her lately.  She is also widely known for her roles on Mama's Family and Mary Tyler Moore.  Some generations even remember watching her in the early '50s series, Life with Elizabeth, for which she won an Emmy in 1951.

When Diane Sawyer recently interviewed Betty White about the Facebook campaign to have her host Saturday Night Live, Betty White joked that her supporters "just dig old ladies."

It is more likely that fans dig great comediennes that have been a hot act for over 60 years; but although her reputation as a comedic genius precedes her, Betty White is also a very multidimensional actress who is just as capable of making you cry as laugh.  Throughout the years, even in sitcoms, she has been given the opportunity to display this talent with characters that people identify with and care deeply about.

"Don't call it a comeback. Betty White has been here for years," says Jenei Osterheldt in her commentary in the San Jose Mercury News ("Betty White is the right 'Girl' for 'Saturday Night Live'").  "...I don't think this White frenzy is a new thing. Instead, I think it's a result of having developed a lifetime of fans, young and old."

Betty White, whose television career actually began in 1949, was honored with a Screen Actors Guild Lifetime Achievement Award in January and was greeted on-stage with a standing ovation from the audience.  Having just turned 88, and with a new movie about to be released, she said of the award, "This is the highest point of my entire professional life."

• "Betty White's Hilarious, Touching SAG Award" The Huffington Post, January 24, 2010
• "Betty White on Her 'SNL' Supporters: 'They Just Dig Old Ladies'" by Dave Itzkoff, ArtsBeat - The New York Times, February 18, 2010
• Betty White on IMDb (The Internet Movie Database)

Caught in a Revolving Door

A few updates:

I found my nail polish, and my nails are beautiful again.  The color is called "blackberry" and it is a very intimidating deep red.  Although it looks more maroon in certain lights.

I cut my own hair tonight (with some help evening things in the back) and I am very happy with it.

I haven't lost a pound yet.

Now, on to the real issue of the day....

I received a response to a blog entry I wrote a long time ago from a friend of mine.  I was a bit stunned by the response.  It seemed like she read the words "God" and "Jesus" in the post and immediately made all her assumptions about my belief system.  Never mind that I also mentioned Greek mythology and a couple of different works of art in the post.  It was a philosophical post about the beauty of pain, in which I happened to mention a couple of analogies I heard in a sermon and the story of Jesus' suffering in Gethsemane.  I also quoted Rilke and talked about the Danaids in detail.

I linked a YouTube video that I posted back in September as my response to her blog entry.  The video has been very well received by atheists and not-so-well received by Christians, who hear me try to state the facts about my beliefs and jump my case before watching the rest of the video.

I feel like I am caught in a revolving door with Christians on one side and atheists on the other.  Like I'm riding the fence in some age-old religious battle.  And both sides are going to tell me that I'm being wishy-washy or that I am unsure of my convictions, which couldn't be further from the truth.

This is my conviction, as I stated to my boyfriend earlier tonight:

"Here's the thing with me.  I love my spirituality.  And I love to question my own beliefs.  It is all part of a continuous growing and learning process and I don't want that to stop.  If I decided one day that I was not spiritual, that would close a whole big growth process in me.

"My spirituality is non-negotiable."

And my right to question it and research the truth behind it is also my right.

But what upsets me is that people on both sides who claim to be open-minded or non-judgmental are very quick to "tell me how it is."

What is that!?  It is actually pretty comical if you think about it long enough.  There may be a play in this.

Even weirder is that I was just telling the Sunday School class at church a few weeks ago how I had received a negative response from a Christian to a video in which I was just being honest, while atheists were being very kind.  (Of course, the ladies in the class haven't seen the video in question.)

I'm not saying my friend was being unkind.  She really was being very kind.  But she was also trying to convince me of the things she believes.  Much like a Christian would do to an atheist, really.  Which is a bit ironic!

It's a little weird and uncomfortable, this strange religious place I find myself in, but if anything it reaffirms my convictions about who I am and what I believe.  And I love myself, and I don't plan to stop growing and learning any time soon.  I'm pretty sure that's my entire job description in life, right?

"This is not a 'course in drama.'  It is a course in opening up the vastness in you as a human being... There is no other way to grow except through an art form today.  A few hundred years ago, maybe religion could do it.  But today, only the art form is able to stretch a human being so he can measure up to his potential to grow and grow and understand himself and his life until the end.  We are here to get that."

- Stella Adler

Know Thyself

When Barry Paris met with Stella Adler about her book, Stella Adler on Ibsen Strindberg and Chekhov, they chatted about what playwrights would be included in her book and discussed her background.  When Stella Adler pointed out that her parents and grandparents were from Odessa, Barry Paris enthusiastically informed her that they shared a common heritage.

She became emotional, as he writes in the preface of the book:

"Suddenly, the big eyes that hadn't left mine got bigger and watery.  Her benign conversational smile vanished.  She held out her hand in the traffic cop's firm palm-up signal of 'Halt!'  What the hell had I said?  I was riveted with alarm to that dramatic hand in the dramatic pause before her dramatic whisper:

'Stop --- don't make me cry!'

I replayed it many times on my tape recorder and in my mind, wondering if the tragic tone was real or theatrical, before figuring out it was a precisely equal combination of both.  Alone with an audience of one or onstage before hundreds, Stella Adler gave the same performance:  Emotion was something felt, not faked.  'Real' and 'theatrical' must be the same."

In these three paragraphs in the preface of a much larger and more educational book, we can take a great lesson.

First of all, it is important to note that the common connection between Adler and her editor dramatically changed the tone of their conversation.  Why?  Because Stella Adler was keenly aware of and emotionally attached to who she was.  Odessa is a city steeped in history and she came from its people.  She was proud of her roots and would happily proclaim them.  When Adler starred in the movie Love on Toast, her name was credited as "Ardler."  After that movie, she stuck to her original name.

In order to fully function as a human and an actress, Stella Adler had to know exactly who she was and why she was that person.  It wasn't a matter of "inventing" herself or "molding" herself into the person she wanted to be, and it didn't start with her first independent thought or action.  It went back generations, like links in a chain or cause and effect.  Her heritage is why she ended up where she was, when she did, and why she became the person she ended up being.

No person just appears one day.  People and circumstances influence us all, and those influences provoke us to respond both in action and emotionally.

It is hard to wrap our minds around Paris' observation that "real" and "theatrical" must be the same, but the line before it explains.  "Emotion was something felt, not faked."  What he is trying to convey is that Stella Adler was completely genuine, and she allowed herself to feel her emotions deeply.

That was why it was important to her to pick apart the play and analyze the actions of the characters.  It was not simply technical work.  She had to know where they were coming from, what influenced them, and why they reacted to things the way they did.  By understanding the character, and putting herself in their place, she could feel the same emotions they would.  She lived and breathed her characters.  On stage, her actions and emotions were genuine.  She never had to "act" or "pretend" or "fake."

The phrase "know thyself" applies.  After all, if you cannot identify your own characteristics, flaws, motivations, and emotions, how can you be expected to sympathize with others?  To many, emotions are a sign of weakness.  We are conditioned to keep check on them.  For many of us, we instinctively want to hold back tears during the sad part of a movie or turn a cold shoulder to a painful situation rather than feel the hurt it caused.

To be an actor, we have to explore why we behave this way, and allow ourselves to not only understand why we are who we have become, but also to feel and respond from our very nature.  Then, not only do we sympathize and empathize with others on a very human level, but we are able to understand the motivations of our characters, and live in them.

The Harbor At Odessa On The Black Sea by Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky

Love

Of course, love... what did you think I was gonna write about?

I was very happy with the message I got out of Sunday School and church today.  The Sunday School lesson was about forgiving people, and the sermon was about loving your neighbor.  Basically, what I got out of it was that you're supposed to forgive everyone and love people no matter what.

I was glad to hear it in church, because when I lived in Louisville I heard a preacher on the radio talking about how you SHOULD NOT love things of the world, and that could include people.  I totally didn't get that at all.  I was so upset that I wrote a blog post about it on my Living Basket blog.

"The Importance of Loving People"

Despite the mild dramas associated with having too much snow, today turned out to be far less stressful than I originally anticipated.  Snow is very good at making plans change.  Hopefully tomorrow will pleasantly surprise me as well.

And on that note, happy birthday to me....

"Don't even go if you're not bringing your A-game."

I'm going to hold off on posting last night's dinner for now because my last post was all pictures, and I've found something else I want to talk about anyway.

We Love Soaps is publishing an article about actress Constance Ford's influence on Robin Strasser, one of daytime's greatest actresses.  (No joke.  As judged by a panel of soap experts.)

When I read it, it really struck me, because of this:

"I was taken to her immediately but it was not in the sense of feeling oh-so-secure, safe, or heaven forbid, complacent. I sensed immediately that only my "A" game [would be acceptable]. To this day I’m that kind of person. You show up, but don’t even go if you’re not bringing your A-game. Her standards were extremely high.

"It took a long time...[pause] I’m going to get emotional...for me to figure out how much she really cared about me. Not because she wasn’t nice. But I guess in a sense she was bringing me up correctly. She had to teach me everything without seeming to be taking me by the hand or lecturing me. I was playing her daughter. Connie taught me everything I know about daytime acting. On some level I didn’t even know it was happening....

"...I just adored her. She taught me how to work. She would never have accepted anything but my being a hard worker. I’m so fortunate because that was my calling anyway—to take it very very seriously and to give it my all. How lucky I am that the universe sent me Constance Ford to me as my creative and professional mother."

We Love Soaps told Robin Strasser, "Many of your co-stars have described you in the same way, they can only bring their A-game into a scene with you."

And she answered, "Well, then I’m mightily flattered. If it means I can honor, if I can channel Connie, I’m moved to tears."

Which is funny, because if you read the comments to the article, a lot of people say that reading it moved them to tears for some reason or another.

For me, it was because I completely identified with that desire to work really really hard and always bring my absolute A-game.

When I was going to Stella Adler Academy, I set up an appointment to meet with the school's director, Irene Gilbert.  I was concerned because I was drinking in all these things I was hearing and reading from Stella Adler's students about how hard she made them work and how demanding she was, and I didn't feel that anyone was demanding that level of performance from me in class.

Irene knew who my first acting techniques teacher had been and encouraged me to give my new techniques teacher a try before I decided to be so frustrated.  I believe I was the first one Tim McNeil put on stage in that class.  He gave me a book and told me to create a scene and perform one of the poems in it.  I don't even remember what the poem was or who wrote it!  I was terrified.

So, I created the scene.  I'm pretty sure I was kneeling at a grave, talking to ... a dead husband? ... family member? ... child?  I can picture this hill, with grasses blowing and sky.  The air was chilly, and I think I may have even had a little mud, brick, or stone wall in there somewhere?  (It must have been an Irish or British poet?)  Anyway, I kept reading this poem.

And Tim kept trying to get me to stop reading the poem.  He was trying to get me to understand that the words weren't important.  And the more times I read the poem, the more frustrated he got with me.

Eventually, he took the book away from me, which confused the life out of me, and told me to perform it.  I don't remember what I did or said -- I think I was kind-of shaken up by then -- but I know I was confused because I didn't know how I was supposed to perform a poem that I didn't know the words to! He actually threw the book from where he was standing in the room, over my head, into the back wall of the stage.  He was emphasizing, dramatically, demandingly, that it wasn't about the words!

Well, I was desperate, so I just turned to that grave and started talking, and trying to basically convey the same thing the poem was.  I was nervous, pained, maybe even stuttering.  I don't know.  But that satisfied Tim.

And I was satisfied, because I got what he was saying.  No, it wasn't a good performance at all.  It sucked.  But I learned something, and he had demanded that I learn it, even if he had to be mean about it.

He would sometimes get that way, but he was an awesome awesome teacher.  I'd love to go back now and sit with him and pick his mind in a big, deep acting discussion.  I don't remember him ever getting that frustrated with me again, and I still wonder if he only did that because Irene told him to make an impression on me or something.  After that, I only ever remember getting advice, direction, and compliments when I was on stage.  Maybe he sensed that, in a way, I was as frustrated as he was.

I am still frustrated.  Elizabeth tried to find that full potential in my singing.  She would never let me make excuses, and when I got stage fright and my voice shook, she sat and watched me like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.  I knew it was terrible, that all techniques and emotion had gone out the window, but her goal was just to get me back up there in front of everyone with no excuses.  I adored her.  I don't know if I would have survived coming back to Indiana if I hadn't found her waiting there.  Our friendship was way, way too short.  

I would love to find someone like that again, and it makes me sad.  I know where I belong in life, and I know my potential.  I would like to have an opportunity to fulfill it, and I would like to meet more people who understand that part of my life and won't let me accept less of myself.

When I'm hard on other people, that's really why, because I only want them to see the best in themselves and fulfill it, and I get really frustrated that people don't try to do that -- or even want to try.

Where is the hole that my peg fits in?  I need to try to fulfill my potential every day.  I want to.  I want to overcome my weaknesses, fears, and vulnerabilities.  I want to have those friends around me who understand me and push me -- hard.  I want a mentor like that.  

I want to be that to other people, too.

That's why I was so moved by Robin Strasser's words about Constance Ford.  I understood them, deeply, inexplicably.  I don't know if I will ever find another person like that in my life, and that makes me so sad, because I know they are out there.  I don't want those lessons to be over forever.  I crave them.

But, I know I'll be okay either way.  And just maybe someday I'll be able to help someone else "get it."

"So many people see work as such a burden, and that's such a sad thing.  They think, 'How wonderful when I retire and stop working forever.'  Never realizing that when work ends, a big part of life ends, and that to retire completely is to die."

- Katharine Hepburn

Frosty Morning Window

Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Snowy Day

Today was an "avoid the world" day.  This type of day is contradictory to my "attack everything" philosophy.  I'm even having  a hard time writing, which is unusual for me --  not unheard of, but not normal.  I by no means had a bad day, and I did try to dig in to and make sure I was doing what I could.  I even posted on two blogs besides this one -- nothing elaborate but I rarely post on more than one blog a day.

I'm working on it, okay?

I went outside to take pictures of the snow but I really wanted to get out on this unused gravel road that has trees and hills on both sides -- and once I got outside and looked across the field to where this gravel road is, I just didn't want to walk that far, especially by myself.  Plus, footprints ruin snow.

I took two pictures.

Smile, Dance and Sing

Everyone seems to have the winter blues lately, and though we can appreciate the beauty of winter, the lack of sunshine and warmth on those gray days can get to people.

In order to provoke a smile, and to showcase a classic example of versatility in performance, and just to give everyone a warm fuzzy feeling, here is Gene Kelly, "Singin' in the Rain."  (Now go get tap lessons and express some joy!)

Fitted Sheets and the Soapbox I Can't Seem to Avoid

I honestly thought I was going to be dishing and gushing about Stardish Radio's live interview with Robin Strasser tonight but guess what?  I have a whole lot of stuff to talk about and, unexpectedly, fitted sheets factor into it all.  Insane, I know.

I've gotten into the habit of taking notes at church, because I want to remember the things I want to repeat or talk about, but today I should have taken notes all day.  I know I'm going to leave something out.

Fitted sheets.  My sister and I were at my grandmother's house cleaning yesterday and she said she couldn't fold a fitted sheet.  We were laughing about it and I showed her how to fold a fitted sheet -- which is when I just ignore the fact that there are no real corners and keep folding it until it is a funny looking, oddly shaped, folded up sheet.  It won't really wrinkle like it would if it were just wadded into a drawer but it is really silly.

Bear with me.  This is an odd story but it will come full circle.

On the way to church this morning, as I always do in the car, I had an urge to sing.  My voice, for some reason, was very clear and not its usual raspy morning state.  My dear friend/mentor Elizabeth had me sing "There's Something About That Name" at church - and she really wanted me to sing it very very much.  She worked with me on it before I sang it, going over the lyrics line by line and talking about the feelings and dynamics of the song.  One line that really struck me as she talked about it was "...like the fragrance after the rain...."  So this morning, I got the urge to sing that song.

I told Elizabeth I was singing it to her, and I heard her in my mind telling me that I should not sing it for her, but for the Lord.  So, of course, I had to agree to that, but it was really for her.  So I sang the song in the car on the way to church.

I wrote down what our Sunday School lesson was about, but it slipped down on the priority list of things to talk about here.

I was very turned off by the beginning of the sermon, but it turned out to be a great lesson, as usual.  I didn't agree with all of it, but all people aren't always going to agree.

Notably, I just don't know what to think when people start talking about "the mark of the beast" as it pertains to technology, social security numbers, bar codes, etc.

And I know how very controversial it is for me to say this to Christians, but I really disagree extremely strongly that getting involved with Buddhism, Muslim, etc. is inviting in demons.  I find that highly offensive.  The Christian perspective on that is that because people have to be "politically correct" all the time, they are not free to practice their religion in the United States without it being taboo these days.  They can't pray in school, they are afraid to mention Jesus in public, and they feel they have to fight for "Christmas."  I, personally, do not feel that way at all.  Because I know that if I respect the way other people believe, they will respect me.  Unfortunately, people from all religions are taught to believe that their god is the only god -- and it has led to many wars and will continue to for many more years because people cannot just love other people no matter what.  So, my Christian friends, if I am inviting in demons, you might want to avoid me.  I'm sorry.  

I love people, and I have a desire to learn and to grow, and that involves other religions.

Shall I put my soapbox away now?  Well, I'll keep it handy.

A really great thing that was brought up was the question, "Who are we identified with?"

So I was sitting there asking myself about my identity and what I am identified with.  Of course, the point was that you should be identified with Jesus, but I was sitting there thinking, I am identified with a TV show?  That's bad.  That's just very bad.

I can easily justify it and talk about the uniqueness and greatness of soaps, acting, making a difference in the world, and many other things that make it not just about a TV show.  But I'd have to climb back on my soapbox.  Maybe I'll talk about that some other time if you are truly interested, but something tells me you aren't.  Sadly!

I liked that the point was made that in the Bible, more often than not, the poor people who are searching for God or are close to God are identified -- with a story or name -- and the rich people who are aligned with worldly possessions are used as examples and not identified.  Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against "rich" people and would love to have more money than I have.  The point is that people's value is not measured by their money, but by what is in their heart.  I flipped through the Bible during the sermon and found the verses in Matthew 19 in which a rich young man told Jesus that he had followed all the laws and commandments and didn't know what else he could do, and Jesus told him that he needed to sell all his possessions and give to the poor.  I'm not rooting for people to have to lose everything in the world, but that was definitely a test of what that man considered to be more important -- his money or other people?  See that?

Still, I heard the name George W. Bush come up, and to me, mixing politics in with my worship is a total turn-off.  I understand why Christians do that -- I get it -- I know it is important to them; but it just isn't me.  It doesn't speak to me.  I was also sitting there staring at the alter after collection was taken up, with the opened Bible in the middle and a plate full of money on each side.  Again, don't get me wrong.  I fully support my church and the good things they do!  I want to give them money!  But as with politics, I do not want the financial end of it to be part of my worship.  I also think it makes poor people who are in the congregation feel very bad.  Yucky yuck yuck.  

Oops!  Soapbox!  Behind me!

Well, guess what song we stood up and sang at the end of the service?  Actually, we sang it two times.  Just guess!  Of all the millions of songs I could have sang on the way to church ... I just happened to sing "There's Something About That Name," and that just happened to be the close of the service.

Hello, Elizabeth!  Did you catch that!?  Wow, God.

I met up with my darling boyfriend after church and sat in the car listening to Robin Strasser's newly recorded hotline while he bought some cough drops.  She was really moving and then got out her soapbox and talked a lot about the state of our economy and helping people and I don't ever say, "Amen!" in church but I would've said it to her if I'd been in the room when she recorded her message.  She has a huge heart and she is definitely about helping other people - particularly her neighbors.  She's very open and forthcoming about her personal issues, too, and I sort-of wish I could share my own story with her without sounding pathetic.  I respect her immensely and would love to work with her someday in some capacity, so ...  I'd rather hide from her than have her think less of me.

I tuned in to the live broadcast of her interview tonight and JoAnn -- wonderful JoAnn -- at Stardish asked her for me if she had started her autobiography yet.  She insisted that she would, not only because she has to share her stories from her perspective, first hand, but also because she needs the money!  Oh, my goodness!  Really, that's sad!  

Money is just so stupid.  I'm sorry, but it is.  And we are brought up in an environment where we are essentially forced to make it our first priority.  Pathetic and sickening.  Forced.  Our heart can be in the right place, but that doesn't get us anywhere, does it?

Oh, hello again, soapbox....

So guess what became a big topic of the night?  Of all things?  Fitted sheets.  No one can fold the stupid things!  Apparently, Hillary B. Smith can, so fans agree that we need some household tips videos on YouTube from our favorite actresses.  Hillary B. Smith can teach the world to fold fitted sheets, and Robin Strasser can teach us her excellent ironing techniques.  She said one of her first theatre jobs was ironing in a bathroom for Shakespeare in the Park.

I'm pretty much anti-domestic.  I was in 4-H for years and had to learn how to sew, iron, make candles, take care of children, etc.  It was all very useful, educational, and dare I say fun?  But being forced to do all those things and later realizing I don't really have to do them, combined with having a boyfriend of six years who is a Certified Culinarian ... I'm sort-of anti-domestic, I'm afraid.  I find sewing frustrating, I hate ironing (though it is incredibly easy), and cooking?  Forget it!  Washing dishes by hand?  I'd rather eat the food I try to cook!

Give me a pen, a pad of paper, a computer, a car, a holy place, whatever, and something I care about and I'll work my you-know-what off for it.  I'll even work for free if I love it enough.  Heck, I write for pennies - literally - as it is.  Give me a break!

In conclusion, I again ask, "Is there such a thing as coincidence?"  Do I read into things too much?  You have to admit one or two coincidences a day or a week would be one thing, but several?  I don't kno-ow!

Winter Friends

It isn't yet February, yet all these geese were pointed due north.  Do they know something we don't?

All These Ideas

First of all, I apologize for the lack of entries the last couple of days.  I didn't have much to talk about except that my darling boyfriend fixed French onion soup for dinner.  He has always been a big fan of French onion soup, but I had never had it before because I'm not a great big fan of onions.  I love the flavor of onions, but I don't like to actually eat onions.  At any rate, I forgot to take pictures of the stuff when it was finished in its cute little mugs with the cheese melted on top, and leftover French onion soup is just not very photogenic.  Trust me.

My review?  I would definitely like French onion soup better if someone would strain out the onions prior to serving it to me.  It was good!  I just have this "onion" thing.  They don't taste bad.  I just don't like to know I'm eating them!  I don't know why, but with enough thought and reflection I could probably come up with a good psychological reason for this.  Thankfully, I'm not that worried about it.

I spent a good portion of yesterday with a writer friend of mine!  Okay, it is weird that I graduated in a class of about 30 people, and a very large group of us were extremely talented and creative people.  (I didn't mean for that to sound as conceited as it does!  Anyway....)  There are three of us that I know for a fact are still writing on a consistent basis.  The one I was hanging out with yesterday actually knows what she's doing and how to make money at it!

At any rate, we did a lot of talking about the guys in our lives, and our families, reminiscing about high school and old friends, and sharing our quirky obsessions and our writing.  She was very encouraging, thank God, because I finally found someone who "gets it" and didn't seem to try to pull me out of the clouds when I told her my ideas.

This is a girl who makes plans and follows through on them, but she is not unrealistic.  She has tried to pull me out of the clouds on numerous occasions; because, honestly, I'm not always grounded in reality.  Yesterday, though, she was asking me my motivations, my process, my ideas.  It was so nice to just have someone actually listen to what I was saying, ask questions about it, and then say, "Well, why don't you do it?"

Why don't I do it!?  You know why I don't have a good answer for that?  Because no one has ever asked me that before!  Isn't that hilarious?

Silly me.

So, I'm drawn back to that song again.

"Don't look for love in faces, places - it's in you.  That's where you'll find kindness."

Alright, so.  My ideas?

I was thinking about writing a story that I would post online as a series.  It would be something that would be easy to jump into in the middle of, so no one would have to start from the beginning if they didn't want to.  I would post maybe one to three times a week?  It would not be the traditional "fiction" but a layered story involving at least a couple or a few main characters whose stories intertwine.  Yeah, hello, Alice!

I still want to get my acting website going.  I have the blog started.  I don't update it enough to base a website around it.  I have it planned in my head but I can't execute it all alone.  The people who have said they would help ... well.  Yeah.  (It isn't all their fault.  I haven't given good direction.)  So.  ...

That one is obviously going to take some more thought or a great deal more work/initiative than I originally thought it would.  I might have to actually go out and recruit actual working actors.  Which isn't to say my friends aren't actual working actors.  I know they work very hard.  I just mean I might have to think bigger -- go after some "names" or something.

Which means I definitely need to do some more thinking, so that big idea is going to sit on the back burner for a while until I see where life takes me and how much motivation overcomes me and moves me to go for it.