To Work On

This is about as close as I am going to get to a New Years Resolution (at the moment, I may change my mind tomorrow).

 

Express Joy.

 

Yep, that's it.  I am a pretty sedate person.  In a group of people I barely know, I am likely to be the quiet one in the corner.

 

I am so self-conscious of my dancing that it is almost painful.  I need to be able to let go - PLAY.

 

That's really what I am looking for - Play.  I find it hard to let go and just have fun.

 

I don't know when I lost this ability or if I ever really had it.  I don't remember exhuberent laughter as a child.  I was always serious.

 

Imagination is not a problem.  Really, it's not.

 

Maybe it was just because I was suppressing so much because I was afraid of the consequences if my secret was known.

 

Maybe I just never learned.

 

This year I am going to learn to play.

Home Away From Home

I am with my family for the holidays. My parents no longer live in the house of my childhood but a rush of sense-memory hit me when I got here.

So, being who I am, I have to analyze it.

Blackberry Pie - Every Summer for the two weeks of the blackberry season, my family picked - like MANIACS. All weekend events were cancelled, all we did was collect a massive amount of blackberries.

You would think that the forced labor would make me go into convulsions at the scent.

Nope - they smell like home. My parents, every week, would make two blackberry pies. It was something they did together. (The pies were pretty good too)

Blackberries mean family.

Sunbreaks - Living in California has made me giggle at the sound of 'Sunbreaks' as a weather forecast.

Movies - lots of Movies - The genre of choice for my family is 'Tacky Science Fiction' (usually found at Blockbuster behind 'Sappy, Overdone Romantic Comedy'). This year is no exception. (this is the family that spent Christmas day a couple years ago watching all the extended editions of the Aliens movies).

Banter - In my family you have to dish it out as well as take it. God help the first Boyfriend I bring home. (By the way my Dad wins on the most staples ever fastening scalp skin together and thus has earned the title 'Zipperhead')

Sleeping in Front of the TV - Sad, isn't it? But that level of comfort is nice.

Anyway, I'm here now (which is, strangely enough, ALWAYS a true statement). I hope that y'all are somewhere like this too.

Where is the evil?

Why are so many people afraid to say 'Merry Christmas'?

They say it is because they don't want to offend anyone - they don't want to push religion down people's throats.

Let's break it down, shall we?

Merry

1. Full of high-spirited gaiety; jolly.
2. Marked by or offering fun and gaiety; festive: a merry evening.
3. Archaic. Delightful; entertaining.
4. Brisk: a merry pace.

Christmas

1. A Christian feast commemorating the birth of Jesus.
2. December 25, the day on which this feast is celebrated.
3. Christmastide.

So, basically you are saying 'Have a happy December the 25th!' There is no 'You had better believe as I do or you will rot in hell for all eternity.' in the sentence. It is more like 'I am in a good mood at this time of year and I want you to be in a good mood too.'

It is merely a wish for a happy day.

Merry Christmas Everyone.

They all laughed at me

It shocked me.  It truly did.

 

I bared my soul and they laughed.  Twenty people in various states of laughter - all directed at me.

 

I LOVED IT!

 

I haven't talked about drama too much this semester - I really don't know why.  Anyway, last night was our final.

 

We were assigned a simple audition introduction:

 

"Hi, my name is Anne Barlow.  I'll be doing a piece from 'Last of the Red Hot Lovers'.  I'll be playing Elaine."

 

[Insert monologue here]

 

"Thank you."

 

We had the option of actually doing monologues for extra credit.  We didn't really work on monologues this semester, we dealt with scenes and positive energy and 'knowing our instrument'.

 

There were about five other sections of the final as well.

 

Anyway, back to the monologue.  I didn't need to do one,  I didn't need extra credit.  I did two anyway.  The first was the aforementioned 'Last of the Red Hot Lovers'.  When I practiced it with my roommates, they laughed.  I didn't know if was an uncomfortable laugh (because why is Anne talking about sex and such things?).  And for good measure there was a nice alliterative tongue-twister right towards the end (savory swordfish succotash - (EEP)).

 

Still I was a little taken aback by the actually laughing.  This could really become addictive.

 

My second monologue was longer.  It starts out with some funny lines but delves quickly into some heart wrenching stuff.  It went pretty good too.

 

Dang it.  Do I really NEED another addiction (counting trying to be as geeky as possible as another)?

 

This must be what drugs are like.

Threads of Life

Are you the same person at ages 10 that you are at age 5?

You probably acted quite differently so who is to say that the 10 year old isn’t a completely different person from one who is 5?

Are you the same person at 15? 20? 30? What is the connective string that links the same person through the years?

When I transitioned I don’t know what people were expecting? Sure I had nightmares about their fears but I had no way of knowing what they truly expected. Were they expecting a bizarre stranger to suddenly be part of their lives?

Four simple words. There are four words that I used to explain things – to try and comfort those in my life.

I

Am

Still

Me

Seems pretty self-evident, eh? Kind of like 1 + 2 = 2 + 1?

People in my life braced for the worst – like prepping for a distasteful storm. I think most were a little surprised by how little change there actually was.

In short – I was still me.

Parents often talk about mourning their transitioning child. They have to deal with the death of their son and then deal with having a daughter (or vice-versa).

But who are they mourning??

I AM STILL HERE!!!

The mourn the relationship that they had – I think that is part of it. They try to supplant the whole thing with a brand new, fresh from the factory model.

The thing is – I have not really changed all that much. Sure, on the outside, things appear differently. But inside? I am who I was all along.

My wonderful brother bought me some movies a couple years ago. Chick Flicks all around. And not the Chick Flicks that I enjoy but the Lifetime-Movie-of-the-Week-Someone-is-dying-of-cancer-but-we-will-all-be-better-
people-for-it-and-don’t-we-wish-we-knew-who-we-could-have-been-all-along-without-
this-horrible-tragedy? The thing is I still like the tacky science fiction movies that I have always liked. He knows this but he assumes that I have changed this, the fabric of my being, essence of me. I think he is starting to understand.

I am still me.

Okay, back to the original thought, are we the same person at all those different ages?

Well, yes. Of course we are.

I suppose there are two ways we can explain the changes in personality as we grow older.

One theory is the child is the pure being, the essence of our personality. We are that child and what happens over the years is a corruption of that child, layering filters of societal pressures over that pure being so the core personality is barely noticeable anymore.

The other theory is that in a child there is infinite potential. All of the things that a person could be are in that child. As we age and experience life we hone that core self into what we are, chipping away and dropping off distracting parts (often with dire consequences).

A child is fuzzy with potential, age brings it into focus.

Breathe a sigh of relief, my friends (DAMMIT, BREATHE!). You have not lost your friend, your sibling, your child. That person was not erased out of existence. There is no cosmic white-out.

The thing is – I am STILL me.

Just more so.

and then.....

I believe in challenging my comfort zone. To me that is the only way to grow.

I've been taking the drama classes for a bit now and I really enjoy it.

So, what next? Do I actually audition for a play? Or do I take a dance class?

Decisions....decisions.

Hide from the storm

Yesterday was blustery, high winds and constant sheets of rain.

It is also my one free night of the week. Every other evening is accounted for so Thursday is the night where I can do what I want.

For the last week I have been begging my friends to see 'Rent'. I never saw it on stage but I knew I really liked the music and the story was based on La Boheme and it had something to do with people living with AIDS.

Everyone I asked refused, rather bluntly. Their excuses were varied and imaginative ( "I really HATE that song they keep singing!" was a favorite of mine). So, if I was going to see it at all before throwing on my Netflix list I had to go alone.

I did.

I loved it. During the second half I could not stop weeping.

Mock me if you will but you HAVE to see this movie.

We're Off to See The Rock

A few years ago I was on a ship that was transiting the Straits of Gibraltar.  We all knew that this could be a once in a lifetime chance to see both Africa and Europe at the same time so most of use made our way to the weather deck.

 

The wind was about 40 knots (AKA really strong).  It was not a really safe place to be.  A few of the women on board were quite small and really ran a risk of being blown overboard (this would be considered a BAD THING).  So we all linked arms to keep the smaller ones from danger and generally supporting one another.

 

It's weird what memories a stormy day will bring, eh?

 

(Oh, we never saw Africa and almost missed Gibraltar altogether.  Along with the dangerous wind there was astonishingly thick fog.)