tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21290096397851853152024-03-14T07:21:59.680-04:00Little Girl. Big City. Madness Ensues.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-100084851304962172013-05-08T00:28:00.001-04:002013-05-08T00:28:04.060-04:00Oh yeah, I have a blog!Well hey, internet. Remember that time I was getting kind of good at blogging, staying with it, etc?<br />
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Remember how that was late December? Yeah, I know. A quick overview of where I've been:<br />
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In <b>January:</b> rehearsed and performed <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9PMx4ybzrI">Cher and Cher Alike</a></i> (that'll let you watch the whole show, if you're curious) with my strange and delightful Bizarre Noir family, became an outreach assistant at Equinox and began a love affair with the gym (byeeee, Bally Sports Club), and went to many auditions. Developed an obsession with Audition Update that quickly escalated to new and unhealthy heights. Became one of "those people" who starts unofficial lists and makes it to the gym by 8 am. Found it wasn't so bad, actually. Got my picture taken with THE OFFICIAL WORLD SERIES TROPHY for the San Francisco Giants at Finnerty's.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Trophy tour 2013! And Ashkon was there.</span></div>
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In <b>February: </b>Continued to audition in all of my spare time. Finally (about 8 months late) got certified with the health department in order to further my goals of being a food-service professional (insert GIGANTIC eye-roll here). Pretended to care about football as much as I do baseball when the 49ers made it to (and heartbreakingly lost, grr) the Super Bowl. And received a spot of good news - one of January's auditions, for none other than my childhood favorite musical <i>Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat</i> - panned out! And began rehearsing the next Bizarre Noir show, <i>The Cat's Meow</i>.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Sometime before kickoff. Still filled with optimism... alas.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Childhood dream fulfilled, part 1! Not the dream role, but certainly a step in the right direction.</span></div>
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In <b>March:</b> Continued auditioning like a mad woman. Ran into a brief snafu when my bar was closed down by our landlord for 36 hours and began briefly panicking about my unemployment future. Was much relieved to learn this was not the case, and began cancelling "just in case" job interviews I had lined up. Went to my first concert of the year seeing Swedish House Mafia in their farewell tour at Barclays. Celebrated my ALL TIME FAVORITE HOLIDAY, St. Patrick's Day, by working it for the first time... and finding I hadn't missed out much by not working in years' previous. Experiencing a MAJOR job perk by attending the Jameson Bartenders' Ball (and received a major gift from the hangover gods the next day when I awoke to learn I felt like a human).<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Bartenders' Ball. Clearly a "before" shot.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Patty's Day at the Manch!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">SHM at Barclay's Center. "We came, we sat, we're old." Oh, you mean that's not the tagline? Clearly a house concert is not my scene.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">ST. PATTY'S. DAY.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">This happened. And it was excellent.</span></div>
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In <b>April: </b>I opened <i>The Cat's Meow</i>, which, despite shaky beginnings and one very scary dress rehearsal, ultimately went off without a hitch and was a roaring (twenties) good time. Oh yeah, and my first onstage sex scene. So for those of you playing along at home, I have now committed suicide onstage (11th grade), had a hysterical drunken meltdown (senior year of college), killed someone else onstage (last summer), been naked in a callback (November), and now had sex onstage (April '13). Quite the track record. Dove back into auditioning, and got myself called back for <i>Princess Particular</i> at The Secret Theatre (didn't book) and got myself <b>cast</b> in <i>Cyrano</i> with the Hudson Shakespeare Company!</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Look at that pretty postcard, y'all!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">The Cat's Meow, finale. No, there are no sex scene pictures.</span></div>
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Which brings us to <b>May</b>. Last weekend we performed Joseph, which was - to be as cheesy as I possibly can be - every bit as much of a technicolor dream as I'd always hoped it would be. I may not have played the Narrator (my all time top dream role of life - listen, don't judge me) <b>yet</b>, but I couldn't have asked for a better experience doing Joseph for the first time. It was everything my six year old self had wanted it to be, and a little bit more even than that. As I've spoken about before, this show <b>is</b> the reason I do musical theatre today, and I cannot even begin to express properly how grateful I am to have had the opportunity to finally do the show.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Act 1 Finale - "Go Go Joseph" aka the song that made me love musical theatre.</span></div>
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And now here we are. This week, I'm rehearsing and performing <i>As You Like It</i> with Oxford Shakespeare Company. Next week, I'll jump full-swing into rehearsal for <i>Cyrano</i> with Hudson Shakespeare Company, and get more familiar with the PATH train and general Jersey City area than I'd ever really hoped to get (ugh). Also next week, we'll get started on <i>Little Shop of Horrors</i> at Bizarre Noir, which will mark my first adventure into choreography. I am trying to be excited about this instead of terrified.</div>
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In short, I'm really, really, really busy. I'm really, really, really trying not to feel overwhelmed. And right now, well, honestly... I'm not exactly taking everything in stride. </div>
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There are moments where I know to be excited about all of this, that being busy in this way is EXACTLY what I want to be doing with my life and that things are kind of, sort of, falling into place. Professionally, at least.</div>
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It's just that personally, things are feeling a little messier. Joseph, though an tenuous experience at it's start, ended up being some of the most fun I've had doing theatre in a long, long, <i>long </i>time. And no disrespect to my Bizarre Noir family, who are indeed my family... but something about this was different. Maybe because it's a show I've wanted to do so long, or maybe because it was the perfect show at the perfect time, or maybe because <i>unlike</i> Bizarre Noir, I don't know when or even <b>that</b> there'll be a next one. </div>
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And so working into doing something else that's just... well, frustrating, with... <i>everything </i>(read: boy issues and personal issues and holy crap I have no time or money issues) else that's going on, it's been harder to let go. So we press on, like boats against the current, ceaselessly borne back against the past... But like Gatsby, I'm going to keep believing in the green light. Keep moving forward. And someday quite soon, I'll be just as excited about these projects as I ought to be.</div>
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And hey. The sun's out. The 70 degree weather has arrived. How bad could it really be, right?</div>
<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-7836469469232224922012-12-31T18:29:00.002-05:002012-12-31T18:29:20.041-05:00i'm giving up my vicesYep. This is my second New Years' related post that is titled with a Rent lyric. So sue me. (<i>Sue me, what can you do me</i>... apparently when I come home I revert to my musical theatre obsessed 15 year old self. I've strayed).<br />
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Yesterday's thoughts were all about recapping 2012 and all of the wild and crazy adventures I had this year. No exaggeration, I think. Just ask any of the participants in "I'm Up for Anything" St. Thomas 2012, "Bitches, Beaches, and Bars" Bermuda Birthday 2012, "Daytona 94" Edisto Island 2012, or "Black and Orange Till I Die" Yay Area 2012. (The only one of those names I just now made up was the last one, BAM).<br />
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Or, you could check with any of my partners in theatrical crime from <i>Superstar, Sordid Lives</i>, <i>Misunderstood</i>, <i>Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb</i>, or <i>Welcome to New Yawk!</i><br />
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OR, you could watch me get murdered with a chainsaw on Biography Channel. BOOM.<br />
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<b>Or</b>, you could just ask any of the wonderful people <strike>who are absolutely batshit insane enough to put up with me</strike> who I am lucky enough to call my friends.<br />
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Moving right along, <b>today's</b> thoughts revolve around one of my favorite things: New Years' Resolutions!<br />
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As you may recall, I kind of suck at keeping them. See the 2012 resolution of being more positive.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Whoops y'all.</span></div>
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BUT, I love making resolutions because I love competition and I love goal setting. And resolutions kind of feel like competitions against myself as a result of the aforementioned goal setting. It's a win win. PLUS, 13 is my lucky number so I have a pretty good feeling about the year 2013.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">My next tattoo, natch. Actually, it's a shamrock (hello, Irish) and my lucky number. I'm borderline not kidding.</span></div>
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I actually got so excited about New Years' resolutions that I've been thinking about them for two weeks and probably have too many. But sometimes when I get really really set in my ways about something and decide that <b>they will happen no matter what</b> (see: getting into college, graduating early, moving out of the hood/UES for good) that actually tends to be good. One of these days I'll manage to convince someone/myself that my stubbornness is actually a positive character trait...<br />
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And so, without further ado and in no particular order, New Years' Resolutions 2013!<br />
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<b>1. Rollover resolution: Continue to work on positivity. Make a commitment to my own happiness.</b> By positivity, I mean not sweating the small stuff and not getting so down on myself when bad things happen - because they're going to, they always will. I'll always be broke or not get that audition or get stiffed or the weather will suck and <i>that's okay</i>. I'm going to make mistakes - I certainly made a lot this year - <i>and that's okay too</i>. Remember that it's how you react and move on from those setbacks <i style="font-weight: bold;">and the attitude you carry forward</i> that matter. Sometimes it is easier to wallow in being cranky and miserable, but it feels like shit. So work on the happy, positive person who still lives somewhere deep inside my <strike>cold cold</strike> lukewarm heart.<br />
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<b>2. Be an audition machine</b>. I like to think of myself as a person with drive and work ethic, and to a certain extent that's true. But I can do better. I should be doing better. A coworker called me the hardest working girl in show business recently... it was flattering, but it's not exactly true. This year I'd like to make it true. This is a hard, hard thing I'm pursuing, and I should be putting that much work into it accordingly. I'm not going to set "no skip" months but I am going to set sub-categories like <b>no missing appointments</b>, <b>no skipping open calls for bullshit reasons</b>, and<b> conquer my fear of ECCs and EPAs</b>.<br />
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<b>3. Read 100 new books</b>. Just something I want to do this year.<br />
<b>3a. Make at least 10 of them plays.</b> Because really. How self explanatory/necessary is this?<br />
<b>3b. Finish the complete works of Shakespeare? </b>Something I've always wanted to do and it fits in with a and b.<br />
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<b>4. Manage my money better</b>. Commit to putting money in savings every month, even if it's only $20. <i>Stop taking unnecessary cabs</i>. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Make loan payments on time</i>. Curb unnecessary spending on going out/eating out/take out/shopping and put money away for things I really want, aka big purchases or travel.<br />
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<b>5. Run an under 30 minute 5k, run a 10k. </b>I officially love-hate running. In that I don't ever see a marathon in my future, but I taught myself how to learn to like working out and giving myself concrete goals will keep me going in the right direction. Plus, hello, competition.<br />
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<b>6. Take 1 dance class a week</b>. I love to dance. I live 3 blocks from BDC. And oh right, <i style="font-weight: bold;">I'm trying to pursue a career in musical theatre</i>, aka dance is part of my career plan. This is not that ambitious a goal. I can do this.<br />
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<b>7. Be the kind of friend I wish to have.</b> I have some really, really, <b>really</b> amazing fantastic super wonderful incredible people in my life. I am lucky to have them and I know that everyday, and though I like to consider myself a good friend, it's high time I remember that it's not enough to think it. It has to be something that's shown as well.<br />
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<b>8. Take better care of my face.</b> This is totally silly and arbitrary but I have a confession to make - I fall asleep with makeup on probably 6/7 days a week. This is something I SHOULD NOT DO! I also sleep in my contacts... let's just say more often than my eye doctor recommends. Eyes are in my face so this totally counts under this resolution to a) not sleep in contacts and b) tryyyyyy to give my eyes a rest day in glasses one day out of every week.<br />
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<b>9. Take <u>at least</u> one seminar/class/workshop at Actors' Connection. </b>Y'all this doesn't sound that ambitious given that it's ONE for the whole year, but hear me out. At their cheapest, these shits are like $100 for a 1 hour class. That having been said, opportunities are opportunities and I should be pursuing more of them. This would be one of those worth it to spend money on things.<br />
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<b>10. Explore more of New York.</b> I have less than zero intention to ever leave Manhattan as my <i>living</i> borough of choice, but I'm told there are fun things to do in the outer boroughs as well. It's been 5 years, it's about time to have more adventures, right?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Let's hopefully make the "stop lying to yourself" the part where I follow through on these... stay tuned for details.</span></div>
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I feel good about these goals. I think I have more, but I think I'm happy with this list. Can I keep up with everything? Who knows. But I'm sure as shit going to try.<br />
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Happy New Year, everyone. Let's make 2013 awesome.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-38793438665916022972012-12-31T04:19:00.002-05:002012-12-31T04:19:19.885-05:00how long till next year? three and a half minutes.Why hello there, good people of the internet.<br />
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Somehow, sneakily and unnoticed by <strike>just about everybody</strike> hopefully more people than just me, the year is about to end! Wait, <b>what</b>?<br />
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I write from my parents house and childhood home in San Jose, California, where I absconded early this week for an extended hiatus to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.<br />
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By and large, I have accomplished this! I've been doing a lot of eating my dad's cooking, drinking red wine with my mom, going to bed early (YES I'M OLD AND I AM NOT ASHAMED), playing with my puppies, shopping, and catching up with old friends. And in the interim, I've been doing <strike>quite a bit</strike> a smidge of reflecting on the year that's passed.<br />
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It's an open secret that 2012 was not my best year. I started that sentence by writing that 2012 was not kind to me, but in truth I think it's more accurate to say I was not the kindest to 2012. For reasons I'm still not quite clear on, 2012 was a year of personal struggles that took more of a toll than I was willing to admit at the time on my self-image, relationships, and general happiness.<br />
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You might recall that my one New Years' resolution from 2011 was to be more positive. I think it's safe to say that I failed. It's okay - I've made my peace with it, because I picked back up with that effort in August of this year (listen better late than never okay?) and have been doing reasonably well since then. But I bring it up because it's been emblematic of the really sort of, well, out of character year I've been having, where I've come since then, and most importantly, <i><b>where I want to go</b></i>. In short, I've been negative, I've been self-doubting and best and vaguely self-loathing at worst, and in the interim developed some <b>really</b> charming habits to deal with all of that. And none of that sounds like me, nor did it feel like me at the time. It was like spending 8 months on a particularly sucky vacation with the worst version of me. But it taught me a lot, and most importantly looking back, I finally, <b>finally</b> learned that it's okay to not be okay. Because when I realized I wasn't okay was when I had my psuedo-epiphany about how to work on being happy in the middle of the ocean in Edisto (true fact! whee I'm kind of a hippie), and that was kind of awesome.<br />
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So without further ado, my year in review! That wasn't supposed to rhyme but I'm totally okay with it that it did.<br />
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In <b>January </b>I joined a theatre company, did a concert featuring the music of the Carpenters, and got fired for the first time! After that I realized that I am still ill-equiped to deal with free time. It is what it is.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Funemployment 2012, part 1. That would become a theme this year! (Fortunately, only one such party was mine. But it did ring in the year of the Tortilla Flats Funemployment Party.)</span></div>
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In <b>February</b>, I became the first recipient of what would become known as the "Ellie Rubin Rule" which basically guarantees your friends' support when you make <b>really really fucking stupid </b>decisions with respect to boys. It was a low point. But THEN, it was Caribbean vacation time! My roommate and I decided to wisely flee the grey misery that comprises New York City in February, and we flew to St. Thomas. A highly highly excellent choice, and one I hope to repeat in 2013. The first of my 2012 beach trips. Serious win.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Hey there, paradise. Don't mind if I do.</span></div>
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In <b>March</b>, I got back on the audition train and geared up rehearsing for my first NYC premiere! ANd also fell more and more in love with my crazy Bizarre Noir theatre family. I also re-taught myself to play the guitar and played with turquoise eyeshadow. Heyyy, East Texas in the 90s.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">As Bitsy Mae Harling in Del Shores' <i>Sordid Lives. </i>New York City premiere!</span></div>
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I also finally conquered my fear of Broadway Dance Center, and briefly rediscovered pole dance at my former workplace (where I managed. So we're clear). I also searched mostly in vain for a new job, got one, and then learned to listen to my instincts by uh, not taking it. Hey, you live and you learn.</div>
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In <b>April</b>, after 22 years I finally visited our nation's capital! And got cast in a reading of a new musical playing a 14 year old gymnast. Totally true to type. And based on P!nk's <i>Missundazstood </i>album (appropriately the show was called <i>Misunderstood the Musical</i>) so that's clearly awesome. And maybe actually did help me channel my inner 14 year old.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Obviously this is from DC... I have no pictures of me from <i>Misunderstood</i>, unfortunately.</span></div>
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In <b>May</b>, <i>Misunderstood </i>performed (the day after Drinko de Mayo), I began rehearsing for summer's <i>Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb</i> with Bizarre Noir and joined the cast of the first stage adaptation of the film <i>Imitation of Life</i>. <i>Miss Robusta</i> of course, ended up being one of the highlights of the summer. <i>Imitation of Life</i> on the other hand ended up being the first and only show whose cast I've ever joined that I did not see the show through to production and left the cast during the rehearsal process. (This didn't happen in May, so my recap is slightly out of order. Sue me.) It felt shitty at the time, but taught me a lesson you'd think would have sunk in by now but still hasn't - <b>trust your instincts.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i><b>If it doesn't feel right, it's because it's probably not</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">. </i>Also, I got a tattoo. And celebrated my favorite New York holiday, fleet week.<br />
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In <b>June</b>, I spent an inordinate amount time at the Manch and even more time daydreaming about my upcoming vacation. At the end of the month, someone very near and dear to me departed our beloved city of New York, and so we <strike>got very drunk</strike> celebrated/cried a little (or a lot, if you're me) over the end of an era.<br />
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In <b>July</b>, the aforementioned vacation and very near and dear person to my life came together as my roommate and I descended upon Bermuda for Bitches, Beaches, and Birthdays: Bermuda 2012. Hooray, using my passport in 2012 and double hooray 2nd beach vacation of the year! And I turned 23 in Bermuda which was pretty freaking great.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">REUNITED! BEACH BIRTHDAY. YEP. ALL THE CAPS.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Mmm, more beach.</span></div>
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July also saw the performances of <i>Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb</i>, which were all kinds of fantastic, and a great week spent with my family who came out for the show. July also saw some drama come to a head, and began to clue me in to the fact that something had to give... more on that to come.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">"On the Verge" from <i>Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb</i>. I continue to impress myself with the myriad ways I incorporate my senior prom dress into my adult life.</span></div>
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In <b>August</b>, I shot my first episode of a TV show on Biography Channel's "Celebrity Ghost Stories" playing a dead college student, and traveled to, of all places, Edisto Island South Carolina for what turned out to be one of the best, most relaxing, most fun vacations of all time. It also was the week that, standing in the ocean, I had a strange moment of revelation about how my life had been going up to the point and the realization that I <b>desperately needed a change</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">. </i>I was reminded of the resolution I made for myself to be more positive... and that I was failing miserably at... and that I was sick and tired of being the sort of volatile, unpleasant, generally unhappy person that I had been living inside of for so long. It was a really, REALLY good feeling to leave so much of that behind quite literally to float away to sea, and was a desperately needed wakeup call inside of a GREAT freaking vacation.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Home sweet Dunworkin.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIA5FZVQKgewxBYDTHDWTH2LLDTfLgV6a4vLMHDBIOCoarRQxkJuSXdGUSI3HXmxf_wMyya0eaHRNJVLxtTJYKDghIE00V3v56k0TpBTPCNA0VVjDTHoCeENXdglzzE_ooSJC2bdcGe8s/s1600/538499_4202853503947_320931144_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIA5FZVQKgewxBYDTHDWTH2LLDTfLgV6a4vLMHDBIOCoarRQxkJuSXdGUSI3HXmxf_wMyya0eaHRNJVLxtTJYKDghIE00V3v56k0TpBTPCNA0VVjDTHoCeENXdglzzE_ooSJC2bdcGe8s/s320/538499_4202853503947_320931144_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Mmm, EVEN MORE BEACH. YEP. That makes 3 beach vacations inside of 7 months. Serious, serious win.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Toto, I don't think we're in New York anymore...</span></div>
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In <b>September</b>, I kept my jet-setting streak alive by sneaking home to California for a week of family, puppies, and San Francisco Giants baseball. And then returned and promptly sold my soul to the bar to make up for the summer of running away from my real life responsibilities, and enacted operation get my shit together, aka back to audition-land.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Jic1hlSuQ5YiD3Y-NMWao4swxcsx2KrHOoI7ruGRjr3q0K4VibZZNjk84ehg6hfS9CzLjC2Nhnvd8yWXiCt33vH2T9wgVboQv9RycLaa_-ERSZu6oGoqHNyW9qBR9epsjk6F4aY18iA/s1600/308211_4283188152263_625571789_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Jic1hlSuQ5YiD3Y-NMWao4swxcsx2KrHOoI7ruGRjr3q0K4VibZZNjk84ehg6hfS9CzLjC2Nhnvd8yWXiCt33vH2T9wgVboQv9RycLaa_-ERSZu6oGoqHNyW9qBR9epsjk6F4aY18iA/s320/308211_4283188152263_625571789_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">No place like home sweet NorCal.</span></div>
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Which brings us to this fall... <b><a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html">October</a></b> with Mika and Giants baseball and the WORLD SERIES and Hurricane Sandy, <b><a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2012_11_01_archive.html">November</a> </b>with audition epiphanies DC again and Friendsgiving 2012 and <i>Welcome to New Yawk</i>, and <b>December</b> leading right up to the second to last day of the year. WOAH.</div>
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The point I'm making, mostly for myself here, is that while I thought of it as kind of a shitty year - and it was, in the emotional/spiritual sense - I did and saw and experienced a lot of <i>incredible</i> things this year, both personally and professionally and in spite of all the aforementioned emotional/spiritual bullshit, I would not have traded anything in my 2012 for a year that I ultimately came through healthier, <b>stronger</b>, and certainly a lot happier.</div>
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Cheers, 2012. We did <b>not</b> see eye to eye, and yet in a way I'm still a little sad to see you go. Thanks for the memories.</div>
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<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-39073084812476265372012-12-17T23:21:00.000-05:002012-12-17T23:21:00.281-05:00A week of personal firstsAs of Friday, I had a very different blog post planned. My heart still hurts for Newton, CT, for the lives those kids will never have, for the empty chair at their Christmas, and for the fact that it is ABSOLUTELY indefensible that we as Americans <b>STILL</b> can't seem to face the fact that we need to have a new conversation about gun control in this country. There is nothing okay about the fact that we are quicker to defend the right to bear arms than any given kindergarteners' right to not get gunned down in the classroom.<br />
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That having been said, life goes on. And so though that was Friday, it's the other, less horribly depressing events of my week that have brought me here.<br />
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Kicked off last week with an audition for the Texas Shakespeare Festival and committed the deeply embarrassing faux pas of <b>forgetting my headshot</b> and thus ended up almost 40 minutes late for my appointment. Though I felt pretty good about it, it was not a terribly auspicious start to the audition week. Tuesday I had an appointment for <i>Let My People Come</i>, a musical about sex... and my first foray into auditioning for shows with nudity. In spite of it being a 9 am audition in Morningside Heights at a bar, it went surprisingly well and I was brought back for the "dance" call the following morning.<br />
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<a href="http://www.rockymusic.org/img/vinyllps/LetMyPeopleCome-FrontCoverL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.rockymusic.org/img/vinyllps/LetMyPeopleCome-FrontCoverL.jpg" width="309" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">If you look closely, you'll see the people on this album cover are in various levels of undress. More to come (pun intended) on that...</span></div>
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"Dance" call, you might be wondering? Well. I'll tell you. I arrive dressed to dance, as do the about two dozen other girls that are called back in my time frame. Then all of a sudden, the producer comes out to tell us that we'll be following Equity protocol and there will be a woman in the room at any time there will be nudity.<br />
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Sorry, wait? Hold the phone. I knew there was nudity in the show but nobody told me I was getting naked at the callback today. I had an inkling of suspicion on the train, but surely they would have notified us, right? WRONG.<br />
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They brought us in to learn a part of a song from the show, and then began bringing us in in small groups to perform. I had the (mis?) fortune to be in the last group, so it became abundantly clear rather quickly that yes. Yes, nudity was in the cards today. First time through, we sang the song, second time, we sang in our underwear, and the third time through we sang in whatever level of undress we were comfortable with.<br />
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So I sat, and I deliberated, and I made awkward audition small talk... and then the moment came. In we went, and we started off for round one. Sangin. Okay. That'll work. Round two, underwear singing. Let's face it, I was basically in my underwear in all my costumes from Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb this summer, and I did my first scantily clad photoshoot in college for <i>Move Over Mrs. Markham</i>, so that's a comfort level I can safely say I have actually reached. Was thrown for a brief loop when we all got to solo - in our underwear - but hey. Go with the flow.<br />
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And then the moment came. Until this point, I was firm on the fact that I intended to get topless, but the undies were staying on. But then we all started singing, and somehow... I decided to go for it! Naked. Singing. No, there are no photos of that. You're welcome. Was it weird? Yes. Did I immediately come home and have <strike>a</strike> two mimosas? Yes. But I did it.<br />
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While talking to a friend as we waited, I mentioned that two years ago had someone asked me to do this, there's no way I would have been comfortable enough to do this. She said the opposite, mentioning that she had been much thinner then. Ironically, so was I, but also <b>so</b> much less sure of myself and my body. It was wild and unsettling and crazy to get naked and sing and dance in an audition setting, but it was also really really freeing. I felt safe and why not? Here's to realizing what you can do. I didn't get the show, but it was a good experience to realize I was okay with that.<br />
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The rest of the week flew by, and before I knew it it was d-day - race day! I went to The Running Company after work Friday night to pick up my bib and free mug. It was really happening.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DqG8g_bxyv5Ky_PtdvaY35YFKXYwS6ifHC1XEK1vKRC8vT8wXSaDvXuS4sdGfy7fIzafnhnUPg5T1l-_GhKTXz5Bssh-4B2kectM6BFc3qa0DRvxutenNE-vZqT2OSoVXxeVHmkJshg/s1600/photo-5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DqG8g_bxyv5Ky_PtdvaY35YFKXYwS6ifHC1XEK1vKRC8vT8wXSaDvXuS4sdGfy7fIzafnhnUPg5T1l-_GhKTXz5Bssh-4B2kectM6BFc3qa0DRvxutenNE-vZqT2OSoVXxeVHmkJshg/s320/photo-5.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">That's me! Number 1210 and now the proud owner of a Roosevelt Island 5K/10K mug. Eeee!</span></div>
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Saturday <strike>flew</strike> crawled by in a blur of Santa Con related horror and misery, and before I knew it it was 12:45 and I was able to sneak out of the bar a little early to pass out in my bed after twelve hours of serving shots to drunk people dressed as a coterie of Christmas related evil. Now as luck would have it, as with every time I have an early morning obligation, I slept nervously and not very well, but nonetheless at 8 am my alarm went off and I popped out of bed <strike>bleary eyed</strike> bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to head to Roosevelt Island to meet up with my dear friend Kati who I conned into running this with me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eY1-uN2ar5A9FKnG_rTjLbMVtVfvnGGCBxJJYdxhkvb_EOimiOH7ZzrLpayDzuhfEmvZZb4ca2HAIOFWKyvCkfWu1dBOYshlrHsVETcC491oStnjLH4y0EmkzSPbwxyc3G2LgvaXYfY/s1600/photo-6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eY1-uN2ar5A9FKnG_rTjLbMVtVfvnGGCBxJJYdxhkvb_EOimiOH7ZzrLpayDzuhfEmvZZb4ca2HAIOFWKyvCkfWu1dBOYshlrHsVETcC491oStnjLH4y0EmkzSPbwxyc3G2LgvaXYfY/s320/photo-6.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Actually I'm joking, Kati has already run a half-marathon. Silly.</span></div>
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Pre-race. Eeeee this is happening! I really think I'm ready... I might actually be ready... I'm probably not ready. But I'm gonna run!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72O-C-PaPQFByNLJhxbSQXUtb36qOjWZYohyphenhyphenTEwwqQr7vOGyC6bgdm6XQ2x-tzUHMRzlm5SaHElcYPeRxCS_tLpQ7c2Kri6zoG1TqdCaWYI336LoEB4noBUmkWDaW-rhBXYTo5bWWBn4/s1600/photo-7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72O-C-PaPQFByNLJhxbSQXUtb36qOjWZYohyphenhyphenTEwwqQr7vOGyC6bgdm6XQ2x-tzUHMRzlm5SaHElcYPeRxCS_tLpQ7c2Kri6zoG1TqdCaWYI336LoEB4noBUmkWDaW-rhBXYTo5bWWBn4/s320/photo-7.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And the post race! I did it! I really did it! Kati at this point suggested that we run another lap. I laughed and enjoyed my free hot chocolate. But the point is I did it! And even a little faster than I expected!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGacJPIodNpXhdE0VHmeN2WrVQEY8iSXFGnXuU50OYAG_aP_PONojPqBycU8TV2QZZZkSjsyRDCMwpkRy2dhlidSKbZ6IhPZY6cZOFNhlTgD9ye1WWcAZmb8ozk-U59nXspBEVBlxcJQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-12-16+at+12.48.29+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="26" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGacJPIodNpXhdE0VHmeN2WrVQEY8iSXFGnXuU50OYAG_aP_PONojPqBycU8TV2QZZZkSjsyRDCMwpkRy2dhlidSKbZ6IhPZY6cZOFNhlTgD9ye1WWcAZmb8ozk-U59nXspBEVBlxcJQ/s320/Screen+shot+2012-12-16+at+12.48.29+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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32:34 seconds, for an average pace of 10:30/mile. Is it super fast? No. Is it even that far a distance? No. <b>But</b> coming from a girl who used to say she could only run on the treadmill because it wouldn't let me stop, from a girl who used to cry when she had to do the mile run in middle school, and a girl who wouldn't have EVER imagined herself signing up for a race for fun six months ago, this was a pretty freaking big deal. And I'm pretty proud of myself for going through with it.</div>
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And hey, I even kind of enjoyed it. And I may or may not be looking up next ones I can do.</div>
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All told, not a bad week for pushing my boundaries and really seeing what my own limits are. I think I did pretty well, actually.</div>
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Now it's t-1 week until California, and it's going to fly by with work, holiday parties, my roommate's birthday, and the potential end of the world. BRING IT, this week.</div>
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<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-72912196690156010832012-12-10T21:15:00.002-05:002012-12-10T21:15:14.193-05:00Where did November go?Aww, I was on such a good stretch with the whole blogging thing.<br />
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Whoops.<br />
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So it's December - almost <b>mid</b> December - and I can't seem to quite figure out where the time went. In the blink of an eye passed <i>Welcome to New Yawk</i>, Thanksgiving, and the usual attendant cadre of shenanigans that are my life, leaving me with just under a week to my first 5K and just over two weeks till Christmas. WHAT? 2013 is right around the corner, assuming that the world doesn't end, and I've barely had time to process that it's no longer October.<br />
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A quick pictorial tour of what I've been up to:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Tk8EVZNQJftR2h4rllit97RH_EPdJDfxEvGecnKCrj_OQp9gZuyQMrlO7fD5mUmWOSrmFdyW83WSjA2T2X6hXgQ5bp0G3ZmWlyyyj8iOEKG2c3Ub2pEZ9Ynw1xExRY2A_-piXtpRnNU/s1600/IMG_0425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Tk8EVZNQJftR2h4rllit97RH_EPdJDfxEvGecnKCrj_OQp9gZuyQMrlO7fD5mUmWOSrmFdyW83WSjA2T2X6hXgQ5bp0G3ZmWlyyyj8iOEKG2c3Ub2pEZ9Ynw1xExRY2A_-piXtpRnNU/s320/IMG_0425.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Thanksgiving day brunch action - <strike>a few</strike> several mimosas, spinach artichoke dip, and a sensible cheese plate. Otherwise known as the mid-afternoon Mean Girls drinking game and why we didn't start cooking anything besides turkey until 6 pm. And yes, that is peach flavored André in the background. Hey, it was $4 and we had already spent almost $80 on cabs because of an unfortunate lock-out incident with food in the oven.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysROiOtM1Wdjly9RAvdGYc7kYiv2QV8tZ2ncFikj8uhVNKIDy8-eYghmqDcPbxxPHTPHpVcgZ2lyTesQyhqytC5FiceB-tQRiIGj6nnMwYt15KEB1NB-j8DOJynt-xv9ArHWo8swuINs/s1600/IMG_0426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysROiOtM1Wdjly9RAvdGYc7kYiv2QV8tZ2ncFikj8uhVNKIDy8-eYghmqDcPbxxPHTPHpVcgZ2lyTesQyhqytC5FiceB-tQRiIGj6nnMwYt15KEB1NB-j8DOJynt-xv9ArHWo8swuINs/s320/IMG_0426.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Wouldn't be a New York holiday without some fire escape action. Little scenic action of Washington Heights.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0yTt5ck1r5_VR9j25dZjfmhSlL4l185imzQfTj2-EpUE2YbWOQLs0XfMsmWeR6OYrPgANWY8iKq2RqNlIBI-qg9BWJyoCibwWBqQNKqSDVmJgkyuedpd0Vb36iNGdGIbmNCfGpYTx60/s1600/IMG_0428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0yTt5ck1r5_VR9j25dZjfmhSlL4l185imzQfTj2-EpUE2YbWOQLs0XfMsmWeR6OYrPgANWY8iKq2RqNlIBI-qg9BWJyoCibwWBqQNKqSDVmJgkyuedpd0Vb36iNGdGIbmNCfGpYTx60/s320/IMG_0428.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Friendsgiving 2012. Or that time that I channeled my inner Paula Deen and put eight thousand sticks of butter in everything. (No but really).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">December 1st is Christmas decoration day at home! Came home from work to discover the Christmas fairy had arrived in my apartment. Much more homey with the tree up!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Trying to balance the whole job and career things with a little line learning action behind the bar. I multitask like a champ. Happy hour is until 9 pm.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Last rehearsal for <i>Welcome to New Yawk </i>with MuSE at the Secret Theatre in Queens. This is the finale number of the sparkly glittery puff ball of awesome that was "The Staten Island Fairy."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">In the midst of this all, I tried to remember that I committed myself to running a 5K... and that it's fucking COLD running outdoors in December. So I bought real running gear for the outdoors. The fluorescent pink goodness of this jacket kept me warm but <strike>did nothing for my motivation</strike> totally made me PSYCHED about running as you can obviously tell by my face.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Sangin. "Going Back to Staten Island." Hey I kinda look like I know what I'm doing here, don't I? Thanks, production photos!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">This one time, I heard "exteriors" and "evening" and these were not immediate dealbreakers for extra work. This was potentially the mistake of a lifetime. Mardi Gras in December in Yonkers working background on "The Following." Hey, at least now I'm only 1 degree of separation from Kevin Bacon.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">As my reward for my new Bacon number, a bacon Bloody Mary. Yep. That happened.</span></div>
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In audition land, things are getting a little... eh. I got called in for <i>SkippyJon Jones</i> at Theatreworks, which I've been seen for twice already. Though it's nice that they keep bringing me in, I've (for the first time) reached the point where I'd reeeeally like them to just book me. Though it's nice to be at that point, it's also <strike>somewhat</strike> incredibly frustrating. Found out Friday that I didn't get an appointment for this year's StrawHat auditions. Though last years' audition was sick, underprepared, and a general trainwreck, it's still discouraging to know I don't even have an appointment. For one, this dooms me to a winter of open call hell during what's known as "Summerstock Hell Week" and for two, it frankly just sucks since I submitted my paperwork even EARLIER this year than I did last year when I <b>got</b> an appointment.</div>
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It's bizarre, isn't it? I can finish a show, be in rehearsal for the next, and have lined up a contact for something after that (one of our regulars at the bar is a playwright) and still feel like I'm not doing enough. Maybe that's my way of reminding myself that I care and of checking in with my real work ethic, but it still fucking sucks that I can have all this going and still feel like I'm on an audition/career/theatrical losing streak. I'm not... discouraged the way I've been in the past but I just feel down about acting lately. It's not that I've stopped caring or stopped believing in myself but it's just hard to rally optimism as of right now. Nonetheless, I have another appointment tomorrow morning and one Thursday night, so we'll keep right on rolling along.</div>
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In the meantime, I'm officially in dead week for this race thing and... I kind of almost maybe don't hate running anymore! I kind of almost maybe feel ready! Okay. That's a lie. But I roped someone into doing the race with me so even if I collapse or cry or want to give up and walk at least I have a built in cheerleader (who already ran a half marathon... you know, because that's no big deal). And even though I'm starting to get nervous about this, part of me is already gearing up to do another one... and then maybe even a 10K. Who knows. I'm getting crazy, kids.</div>
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And as always, life goes on. Life, work, boys, New Years', Christmas shopping... the usual. I just keep rolling along. Here's to the last 21 days of the year!</div>
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(YIKES really though how did that happen?!?)</div>
<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-15237136426975114682012-11-18T23:13:00.000-05:002012-11-18T23:13:04.495-05:00Picking up the pieces wherever they fallFirst things first, remember that audition where I said that it seemed like maybe I was <a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2012/11/starting-to-finally-maybe-little-bit.html">starting to get it</a>? I got that show! I am very proud to announce that I will be joining Multicultural Sonic Evolution in <i>Welcome to New Yawk! A Five-Borough Musical Tour</i>. I play Shana in the Manhattan piece "Stay Away from the Cave Man," and Woman in "Staten Island Fairy" (which is about Queens, obviously...).<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Our flyer!</span></div>
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It feels REALLY good to be in rehearsal again, and the pieces are super fun and silly. It's gonna be a good time.</div>
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To celebrate (not really, but the news coincided!) I went to DC last weekend <strike>to drink heavily</strike> to visit one of my dearest friends from highschool/recipient of frequent asinine texts about the absurdity that is my life.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Casually chilling with the president. Sup Obama! Happy 2nd term to you sir.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Julia and I are best and most accurately represented by St. Patrick's Day... or one of the really awkward photos of us from high school show choir. Not sharing those.</span></div>
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I went to DC in April this year to do all the sightseeing and touristing, so it seemed appropriate that this time I would focus on what's really important... visiting all of our nation's capitals bars. Okay, maybe not all of them, but quite a few. And unlimited mimosas, natch.</div>
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In other news... I've been slacking. Last Monday I had an audition for <i>Double Falsehood</i> at The Secret Theatre, which I was bummed to learn I did not book as 1) I loooove me some only recently canon-ized Shakespeare and 2) I just felt really good about the audition and it's been a long ass time since I've done Shakespeare. Tuesday I dragged myself out of bed for open calls for ArtsPower and with the intention of going to Theatre Under the Stars' <i>Man of La Mancha </i>call... </div>
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My roommate and I divided and conquered to put up a pretty respectable numbers 15 and 16 on the list at ArtsPower... and 93 and 94 at TUtS. Eh. Could be worse. Being so much lower on the list made us trek from Ripley back up to Nola to do ArtsPower first, and both of us put up pretty lackluster performances. After a quick conference, we realized that it probably just wasn't worth it to go back to <i>Man of La Mancha</i>, and we called it a day to go home and take naps. </div>
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Audition calendar is looking a little thin this week, though I do have an appointment for a new play and a workshop with a Shakespeare company on Tuesday that should be fun.</div>
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In the meantime, I have realized that my race is only a month away and I'm starting to realize I'm woefully unprepared. By which I mean I have still only run like 2.5 miles at a time... and I'm doing it sloooooow. And I only went running once this week. And didn't go to the gym at all. Basically it was a fat week, is the point of all of this. Might need to make myself a workout schedule for this week... which has Thanksgiving sandwiched in the middle. Totally gonna happen. Yep. Let's just keep telling myself that.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">That's my "I really love exercise and I can totally handle making a workout schedule for myself" face. It's gonna be awesome. 3.1 miles let's do this.</span></div>
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In all honesty, however, I think my lack of physical activity goes a long way towards accounting towards the sort of... off color attitude I've had all week. Nothing is "wrong" in my life, per say, but I've noticed myself getting snippy and short with people who don't deserve it and generally starting to backslide into a negative headspace I've been consciously working really hard to get out of.</div>
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I had a small but very real slap in the face of "oh right, your life is kind of charmed" this <strike>morning</strike> afternoon when, after complaining via text message about wanting brunch, friends who had already eaten agreed to sit with me so I could indulge my brunch craving. Silly? Absolutely. But it was the kind of thing that reminded me that I'm very lucky to have the people I have in my life and I would be wise to focus on that, rather than sweating the small stuff.</div>
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This was particularly fortunate as my roommate - one of the aforementioned friends - did this for me anyway after witnessing a very real (if drunken) deluge of my insanity last night and chose to (pretend to) not judge me after I made a somewhat foolish/dignity forfeiting decision somewhere in the wee small hours of this morning.</div>
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The truth of it is that while nothing is "wrong," I'm spending a wee bit too much time dwelling in Last November right now - today is the one year anniversary of moving to this apartment and while I'm happy to have HIT a year in one place with no immediate moving plans, as I've discussed a few times, this time last year was not a walk in the park for me. A friend and I discussed it at lunch, and apparently we're deciding that October/November is annually when I do shows about New York and work myself into complicated situations with boys (more on that <strike>most likely never</strike> some other time). Yikes.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Okay and yes. I actually know how to fix my current complicated boy situation, I'm just... well... not doing it. Learn from your mistakes much, Stevenson? No? Okay great. Carry on. Proceed blindly off the cliff.</span><br />
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Realizing that I'm heading down this road is about as much as I can hope for right now - if I can recognize that I'm about to go off the psycho bitch deep end, I can reasonably hope to put in a little more swimming effort to stay in the shallow end of the crazy pool. That was a really poorly constructed metaphor, but it's what I've got.<br />
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So I'm going to take it one day at a time, I'm going to get my ass on the treadmill/pounding the pavement because shockingly, the whole physical activity thing really does help, and keep picking up the pieces wherever they fall.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-90726196725525722612012-11-08T22:24:00.001-05:002012-11-08T22:24:14.877-05:00Starting to finally, maybe, a little bit get it rightBefore we begin, WAY TO GET IT RIGHT, AMERICA! So very proud to be an American in the wake of four more years with Obama in the White House. Are we a flawless America at present? Of course not. But I believe in my president and I believe in my country and I am giddy with relief and excitement that Obama gets another term.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Classiest post election photo? Perhaps not. Most hilarious? Yes.</span></div>
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Moving right along, today was a three audition day! This is big, considering I haven't been to an audition at all in over a week. I (mostly) blame Sandy. There is of course, the tiny snag that I was supposed to go to Disney on Monday but my disgusting cold has not entirely left the building and I was phlegmy and coughing and it just wasn't happening in the singing department, folks.<br />
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Because apparently the weather gods hate the northeast right now, after last week's run-in with Hurricane Sandy, last night we got treated to winter storm somethingorother. It had a name but I've already forgotten it.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">This was my block last night on my way home from ballet. It's NOVEMBER.</span></div>
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I wasn't positive auditions were even going to happen today - curse you, weather! - but a quick search around Playbill/Backstage/Actors Access/Audition Update proved that we were still on track in open call land, which means No Skip November would win out. I tried grudgingly to remind myself that crappy weather is usually a <b>benefit</b>, because it means that less people will show up for auditions. It didn't make my impending wakeup call seem any less crappy.</div>
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Nevertheless, I dragged myself out of bed at 7:15 with a RAGING headache, which I thought was extremely rude since it's not like I did the drinking to deserve it. Made it to Pearl by about 8:30 for The Family Theatre Company's <i>In the Heights </i>and found that I was only number 10 on the list. Success! I had an appointment across the street for a new play called <i>Confessions of Poverty</i> at 10 am, though, so I was like ahhh this is confusing because I will be in (wait for it) group 1 at ITH and then how will I multitask ahhhh morning ahhh brainexplodes ahhhh auditions. So you can imagine my surprise and delight when I ran into the monitor, my lovely friend Vincent, on the street! He had my back. It was great.</div>
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<i>Confessions of Poverty</i> was meh. I should have read the whole play - which they sent me on Tuesday - instead of only making it to page 30, so that's on me. My reading was solid, I think, but also not exactly right for the way the character was written. There's something to be said for making it your own, but there's something to be said for it not clicking because it's not the best interpretation of the material. Nonetheless, when the author questioned me on my thoughts on the piece I was able to offer some reasonably not bullshit-sounding interpretation and I think overall he liked me. We'll see if anything comes of that.</div>
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Went back to ITH and was called literally immediately upon arrival. Win! Decided <i>on the line</i> what I was singing though, which is a habit I desperately have to get out of. It was at this time that I decided to try a new thing - singing from the show!</div>
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I was always told this was frowned upon, but I'm beginning to see that in the professional world that's not really true. I've sung "Breathe" on countless occasions in class, concerts, etc. - you can read about my relationship to In the Heights and the song in <a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2011/01/but-if-by-chance-you-are-here-for-night.html">this post</a> from last January - but I've never once thought to sing it in an audition. Which is silly, right? So decide I did, sing I did, and it felt GREAT. I have sung it so many times I really didn't have to worry about it, and because of that it was also one of the most solid <b>acting</b> performances I've had in an audition in a long time.</div>
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They didn't ask me to dance, which means I didn't get called back. And while that sucks, it's been a while since I've walked out of the audition and been like "I feel good about what I left up there."</div>
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This evening, much later, I had an audition for a collection of new short musicals about New York. I got home from ITH at 11:30... and this audition wasn't until 9:05. This is not exactly great for garnering momentum, so it was slow going dragging myself back out of the house into the <strike>40 degree</strike> feels like 35 degree weather. </div>
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I sang "You Can Always Count on Me" from <i>City of Angels</i> (AND didn't forget the words!) followed by Sara Bareilles' "Between the Lines" and a monologue from Nicky Silver's <i>Food Chain</i>. And <b>everything</b> went over really well! They were verbally responsive to both songs and I got huge laughs on my monologue which is reasonably rare. Afterwards, as I was wrapping up and getting ready to go, one of the panel said that he was really impressed to see somebody who made such smart choices of material and who clearly knew who they were as an actor come in the room.</div>
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Uh, WHAT?</div>
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ME?</div>
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KNOWING WHO I AM AS AN ACTOR?</div>
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I was dumbstruck with shock. And (here it comes again) gratitude. And maybe even awe. Because most days I'm not sure who I am as a person, let alone as an actor.</div>
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And yet... I think maybe I'm starting to get it. I know how to make the choices that make me feel comfortable and show me off, know how to find and present the material I <b>really</b> connect with that <i>do</i> show me off as a person <b>and</b> an actress. It was a GREAT feeling and I pretty much walked home on air. Who knows if I'll book it - I hope that I do - but that was a <i>hell</i> of a compliment to get today.</div>
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Son of a bitch I guess I'm doing something right - I finally got something right.</div>
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<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-81877615427167809792012-11-04T22:24:00.002-05:002012-11-04T22:24:17.759-05:00Hurricane Sandy, gratitude, weekend morning running... And a side of everything else.Hey there, blogosphere.<br />
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As some of you living in America (and <a href="http://kittykatconundrums.blogspot.com/">Kitty Kat</a>) may or may not know, we here in New York just weathered a hurricane. My neighborhood was UNBELIEVABLY fortunate - Hell's Kitchen suffered now power outages, no flooding, no downed trees, no damage of any kind.<br />
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I have to be honest - in the wake of what I remain referring to as Fauxrricane Irene, I didn't prepare for Sandy AT ALL. I battoned down the hatches, taped the windows, filled the tupperware, stocked the dry goods, watched the news and waited through Irene, which in New York city turned out to be a glorified heavy rainstorm that passed by 10 am the following day.<br />
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Sandy, on the other hand, turned out to be decidedly NOT that kind of hurricane.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">What in the wee hours of the morning would become the most iconic Manhattan image of Hurricane Sandy.</span></div>
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This photo was taken at Avenue C and 8th Street, in lower Manhattan, on Monday night. Shown this photo before last week, I would have assumed it was taken circa several years ago somewhere in Louisiana or Florida. I could share countless more, but you, like me, have the internet and can find the images just as easily as I can. I'd show you a picture of my neighborhood but if you look at <a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2012/10/on-staying-put-for-once.html">this last post</a><br />
you'll find a picture of Hell's Kitchen and it looks EXACTLY like that post-Sandy.<br />
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My hurricane consisted of a very ordinary Monday at work - actually, a very BUSY Monday at work for people looking for an open spot to drink, concocting a DIY <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_(cocktail)">Hurricane Cocktail</a>, and partying through the storm with friends. Looking back, this was irresponsible at best and downright dangerous and disrespectful at worst.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">I still find this image HILARIOUS, but in the wake of what turned out to not be bullshit the way Irene was, it's also a little embarrassing how much and how closely I identified with this as I did literally all of those things except the cigarettes.</span></div>
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Throughout the week I've heard more and more stories of the devastation of this hurricane of a scale I frankly couldn't have ever expected here in the Northeast. Many of my friends were without power for the last 6 days, most could not work nor get into Manhattan, and I talked to DOZENS of people at the bar whose lives were COMPLETELY changed by Sandy, including an older couple who lives in the building I pictured above. Even friends lucky enough to live in neighborhoods untouched were stuck without being able to go to work and earn paychecks this week because their offices or restaurants were at best powerless, at worst flooded and beyond repair. I watched the news this week with a blank horror I rarely feel, and a powerlessness I have never really known in the face of nature.<br />
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Previously, the term "hurricane" hit closer to home for me than many other natural disasters as I had relatives live through Hurricane Andrew in Florida and Katrina in Louisiana. Those relatives checked in early and often, both last year for Irene and this year for Sandy, and their concern made me feel guilty for my own lack of preparation. And made me realize how naive I was to be so cavalier about something like this. It's NOTHING but lucky that I live in midtown instead of the East Village or Battery Park City and that I work in a neighborhood that also never lost power. I didn't deserve to get this lucky and my earlier cavalier attitude is coming back to bite me in the ass with a sense of proverbial Catholic guilt I never knew I possessed.<br />
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I grew up in reasonably idyllic California in the 2000s and didn't live in New York for 9/11 or any of its ensuing crises. At the risk of sounding cliché, this was <b>my</b> first real wake-up that things like this REALLY DO happen where I live, to people I know, to people I care about, and <strike>maybe </strike>probably someday, to me. There are dozens of ways to help and I will be finding them - this is too big a lesson to not act on.<br />
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The reason I say this is because yesterday morning and today, I went for runs that took me down the Hudson River to the west village, and it was AMAZING the difference between yesterday morning and Wednesday (my last outdoor run, when the power was still out). And the spirit of New Yorkers hell bent and determined to return to their routine was awe inspiring. This is a RESILIENT fucking city. That's something I hadn't exactly <i>hoped</i> to experience first hand, but it's been pretty amazing to see.<br />
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This morning in particular, I ran with what must have been dozens of folks here for the marathon, which was cancelled in the wake of widespread controversy about going on with it in spite of the hurricane. Though the marathon's cancellation is something with which I agreed wholeheartedly, the amount of people out and about to make the best of it was pretty great. I've heard many ran the distance today in Central Park anyway, a lot of whom did so to fundraise for relief efforts. OBVIOUSLY I'm not a marathoner (hi the two miles I did Wednesday, yesterday, and today were killer enough for me so 26.2 is not in the cards for this girl anytime soon) but it's still something I can respect.<br />
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I have spent the week telling people that my hurricane was "uneventful" and reiterating how lucky I have been, but it's only recently been sinking in how much worse it could have - and by rights maybe should have - been. I live two blocks from a river and ON AN ISLAND, for fuck's sake. It doesn't get much luckier than having no damage in that situation. To be frank, I've never felt more blessed.<br />
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In other news, life goes on, both in New York on the whole and in my life. Pre-Sandy, my beloved San Francisco Giants WON THE WORLD SERIES!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Just after striking out the alleged best player in baseball for the final out for the win. Storming the field. Picture me in a bar screaming and jumping up and down and maaaaaybe crying a little.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Me and one of my best friends JUST after the win and we both called to gush with our moms. This shit-eating grin stayed plastered to my face alllllll night and I'm pretty positive I woke up with it in the morning.</span></div>
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The hurricane hit the following day, and if you want my recap there scroll up or read the goddamn news.</div>
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In audition-land, everything was (unsurprisingly) cancelled owing to the hurricane and rescheduled for this week. Tomorrow I have Hong Kong Disney on tap before work, with <i>In the Heights</i> and an appointment for a new musical appropriately about New York Thursday. Back to Backstage, back to Actors Access, back to Playbill... back to life, back to reality.</div>
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I also have a real idea for a creative project... it involves Shakespeare, the High Line, site-specific theatre, and me actually really doing some work for the good of my own career. I'm excited and kind of terrified and we'll see what happens. More details to come when I have them. If I can pull this off it's going to be awesome... and if I can't, I will at the very least know I tried.</div>
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In fitness land, as I said, I went on three outdoor runs today. I have no idea if my gym was even open, because I was determined to be outdoors... and also because it's time to stop fucking around and getting my body used to how much harder that is than the treadmill (and because it's gotten really cold, and I signed up for a December race like an idiot). In my C25K training, I ran my first 20 minutes without stopping this week! It's not that much, I know... but my cardiovascular fitness has always been more dance oriented. And for someone who <b>still</b> remembers being made fun of for not being able to run one mile without stopping in middle school, it feels pretty damn good to look back at the fact that this week alone I have run six. I WILL get a series card at BDC this week and I WILL be dancing.</div>
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I also have to be honest - this post almost didn't happen because I woke up feeling shitty and cranky and angry today after going to bed feeling shitty and cranky and angry last night. Not all of it is resolved, but a lot was a much simpler fix than I thought... and it feels good, at the very least, to know that. Some of it probably stems from bigger issues, but I'm working on it. It also feels <b>really good</b> to know that whatever my (many) flaws, I've come a long way from where I was even this July where I would have bottled this up and lashed out inappropriately rather than accept how I felt and motivate myself to feel better and deal with it. Baby steps towards maturity, baby steps towards gratitude, baby steps towards a better me.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Where I've been running. New York's pretty fucking gorgeous sometimes, right? Here's to rebuilding, and here's to inspiration.</span></div>
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<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-90199771688985915532012-10-24T18:38:00.002-04:002012-10-24T18:42:04.210-04:00On staying put for onceGreetings readers! I know you've missed me... I spoiled you with my three updates in an almost timely fashion. I had to go back to the old Siobhan you know and love.<br />
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Very little to report on the audition front, I'm afraid. The intention this week was to hit up Broward Stage Door Theatre on Monday and Literally Alive Theatre Company's <i>A Christmas Carol</i> this Monday and Tuesday, but unfortunately I have been sidelined by a <strike>really cute</strike> completely disgusting cold. I rarely get sick and therefore I handle it super well, by which I basically mean acting like a huge baby. Regardless, singing is REALLY out of the question at present.<br />
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I <b>did</b> audition last night for Monsterpiece Theatre Collective's all-female <i>Richard III</i> - it was just okay. I used a monologue I haven't done in a while and though I felt fine about it, I felt... fine. Nothing special. It was, if I'm being honest, a little one note. Though they kept me in the room for a while to talk about my resume and my training, they didn't ask me to read anything else. I think their callbacks are next week, so I suppose we'll wait and see but frankly I'm not holding my breath. Got five on the schedule for next week though - all open calls but one (boo) - so keep your fingers crossed for me that the all orange juice diet I'm about to embark on makes me actually healthy again.<br />
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In healthy living news, I'm getting back serious about the whole gym thing AND I decided to give myself a deadline! Aka, I registered for a race. Roosevelt Island Hot Chocolate 5K here I come. It's in December. I'm probably insane. You should all probably be there to watch me cross the finish line and pass out.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Eeee! Here goes nothing.</span></div>
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Now needless to say, because of the aforementioned really gross cold, today's gym adventure took the backseat but never fear. Still on track for tomorrow. And still clocking in at 7.5 miles so far this week... so I think I can give myself a liiiiittle credit.<br />
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In the meantime, it's October. Which for the past three years has meant moving time in this household. And yet for the first time in a long time, this nomad finally gets to stay put. It's an odd notion. Perhaps my constant schedule of New Apartment October is what makes me inclined, as I mentioned in the past, to feel as though fall - rather than January - is the real start of a new year.<br />
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The trajectory of having to move in October is also a somewhat unsettling one. See, once upon a time in first grown up apartment land, four little girls from NYU decided that living in a depressing prison cell of a two bedroom apartment with bunk beds was NOT worth $1600/month (give or take) per person, and they ventured off into the exciting world of Manhattan real estate. After looking at what <strike>felt like a thousand </strike> twenty or so apartments, they settled on living here:<br />
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Ah, the glamorous life. Sure, they still had two bedrooms for four people, but they had a doorman and a patio and a schmancy Murray Hill address! What could go wrong?<br />
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Wellll... it doesn't work out quite so nicely in person as it does on paper when you run afoul of your next door dwelling super who has a vendetta against you and you aren't EXACTLY within the technically legal limits of your lease. One thing led to another and the super found out that management didn't know four of us lived there and well... bye bye Murray Hill, hello Harlem. And so began the first October moving month.<br />
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Meet my next home, the Miles in East Harlem.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Aww, look how much it looks like the luxury high rise it pretends to be from the outside. I've got your number, Miles, and so does every other tenant who's EVER lived there.</span></div>
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Pros: the biggest apartment I will likely EVER live in. The Cons: well... just about <b>everything</b> else. Where do I begin. From the 1 working elevator (of 4) for a building with around 1000 tenants (not an exaggeration) to the frequent police raids to the teenaged potheads in my hallway to the roaches to the mice to the neighborhood, suffice it to say that living here was an... experience. If you don't believe me you can google this monstrosity. Or read any number of scathing reviews on <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/knw-apartments-new-york">Yelp</a>. (Ugh but the apartment itself... how I miss it). New October, new appointments. Life goes on.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Third apartment complex inside of two and a half years. We have a knack for picking the idyllic LOOKING ones that quickly turn to shit.</span></div>
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After a string of unsuccessful viewings up near City College, determined as we were to leave East Harlem we eventually settled in the no-man's-land known as upper Yorkville. Technically the border of Harlem and the UES, this was a paradise for us. Things delivered, there were (gasp) actual bars (borderline) walking distance away, and best of all, ALL OF THE ELEVATORS WORKED. Soon enough, however, we'd realize we were in another property managed by the same company. And sooner than that, some of us - namely me - would realize what a huge pain in the ass it is to live 45 minutes from everywhere you ever need to go. I need hardly tell you that October rolled around and boom... It was moving season again.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Home sweet Hell's Kitchen, where a little nomad girl can stay put for a while at last.</span></div>
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Which brings me to today. Moving round 4 in 3.5 years was nearly the straw that broke the camels back. Collectively, in that time, I have seen somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 apartments from the West 155th Street all the way to Crown Heights, Brooklyn. I have seen the good, the bad, the horrific, the way over-priced, the gorgeous but inconvenient, the walk through, the "but it's such a good renovation," and the dream apartments I could never have. I am, in short, basically qualified to be a real-estate broker but I'm pretty sure that to do so, you have to sell your soul to the devil. Clearly I'm not going to show you a photo of where I live now because this is the internet and I'd like not to get stalked. But give or take about a block, the above photo is where I live (<b>not</b> in that high rise, sadly).<br />
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My first year here did not get off to an auspicious start. After an extremely hectic but ultimately successful move in day turned pizza party turned drunken shenanigans, <a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-it-still-really-sucks-to-get-pseudo.html">this</a> went down, my roommates went home for Thanksgiving leaving me alone in a still-boxed apartment, my job took a turn for the worse, and I was left feeling... generally adrift. Though I had a new apartment in my dream neighborhood, things were not exactly going according to plan. I felt impotent, and out of control which I really hate... but I did not go shopping, a la Cher Horowitz.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">This is not in New York. And so I did not go there to find sanctuary in a place where I could gather my thoughts. And no, I didn't need to look up that quote. I'm just THAT cool. It's fine, I know you're jealous.</span></div>
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Instead, just like any moving year... you adapt. You make a new home. And I'm proud to say that for the first time since 2009, I will be STAYING here for another year. Yep. You heard right. No boxes, no appointments, no brokers, no UHaul, no packing, no security deposits, no Ikea (actually that one's kind of a bummer). Just me, my roommates, and my first ever lease renewal. Yes, this apartment's kind of (really) small, and yes there are issues, but this time we're not cutting and running at the first sign of trouble. And besides, this neighborhood fucking rocks. <br />
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...Perhaps my relationship to my apartments could be construed as an extended metaphor with my relationship to commitment. Things to ponder for another time. Is this what adulthood feels like?<br />
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So in spite of my <strike>couch</strike>bed potato sickness day today and the generally crappy weather we've been having, I'm feeling pretty damn good about this October.<br />
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Here's to new-old beginnings.<br />
<br />Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-22340945556240936262012-10-17T22:27:00.001-04:002012-10-17T22:27:13.668-04:00No giving up when you're young and you want someThis post will decidedly focus more on the "madness ensues" part of this blog. It happens.<br />
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See, it all started two Wednesdays ago. What was supposed to be "go watch baseball" and have an early night turned into go watch baseball, then go to one's workplace (alllllllways a bad idea after a few drinks since it's not like you're going to end up paying for anything), decide to go home, get sidetracked by a mission for pizza, and end up in one's former local haunt. I blame the half day at work I knew I was having on Thursday.<br />
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So I'm not rock solid sure what my excuse for dance party Thursday before my Friday double shift was, but alas, c'est la vie. And then it was a baseball playoff weekend and then... well... the ball was rolling.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">I blame the Giants entirely for the decline in my productivity and increase in time spent in bars.</span></div>
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Very little to report by way of auditions except for the Cabaret recap. I sang "You Can Always Count on Me" from <i>City of Angels</i> and in spite of the fact that I've literally been singing it since I was a freshman in college, I have this very bad habit of forgetting the words in audition settings. Or cabaret settings. (I'll refrain from the self aggrandizing inclusion of that video). It's embarrassing, particularly given that 3 years ago this ranked on like EVERY list of overdone songs. I <strike>think</strike> know I sang the crap out of it at Cabaret auditions, but this little kink doesn't seem to bode well for me and so it was a callback-less audition once again. Once again I was sort of pissed.<br />
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It is what it is. Had a full line-up for last Tuesday, but a last minute shift switch Monday night kept me at work until 3 am which rendered getting up at 7 DECIDEDLY out of the question. Weirdly there just hasn't been a whole lot going on, and <i>not</i> just because I've been less than responsible as of late. Have some appointments lined up though and throwing more things on my calendar. Focusing on trying to get Shakespeare Festival auditions as it appears to be that time of year again, and as we all know I love Shakespeare.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Idk, my bff Bill?</span></div>
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Friday night kicked off an eventful weekend, as I reunited with the some of my fellow <a href="http://cleftomaniacsnyu.wix.com/cleftos">NYU Cleftomaniacs</a> alumnae (alumna? alumni? I always get confused on the pluralization of this word) and saw Pitch Perfect.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Cleftolove forever. This was taken at my senior concert - literally MOMENTS before it's taking I had been sobbing hysterically. Some of you people have sororities, all of us had acapella. The affectionate joke caption of this photo has since become Phi Beta Clefto.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Alarmingly accurate to my college experience. We all agreed.</span></div>
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Both the reunion and the movie were FANTASTIC. I know I sing all the time at auditions/in my apartment/<strike>under my breath at work when I get bored</strike>/with Bizarre Noir, but I miss singing in a group a lot of the time, and I <i>really</i> miss being a part of an acapella group sometimes. Anyway, the whole thing was decidedly dorky and fabulous, and much though I love my other friends I was glad to experience this movie with other acapella nerds. Following this was my dear friends' 25th birthday party, which degenerated into an appropriate level of shenanigans and post-mortem brunch the following day. Work, relaxation, and baseball rounded out the weekend - the Giants playing game one of the NLCS on Sunday evening.</div>
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On a whim Monday night a friend and I - while watching Giants NLCS game 2 - heard that Mika was playing a show at Webster Hall Tuesday and immediately knew we HAD to get tickets. In fitting with the acapella theme, I was introduced to Mika when we sang "Happy Ending" my freshman year - I purchased his first album that day and it became one of my most played for the next year.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Hey yo Mika - what's the big idea?</span></div>
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The show was AMAZING. I don't really go to a lot of concerts but of my limited experience this was BY FAR the most fun. A perfect mixture of songs from <i>Life in Cartoon Motion</i>, <i>The Boy Who Knew Too Much</i>, and the new album, <i>The Origin of Love</i>. Which I literally purchased on my phone as we left the concert venue. I've been on a Mika binge all day and my love of this artist is totally renewed. And I pretty much lost it when he played "Happy Ending." I tried to stop singing so I wouldn't hear myself on the video, but I kind of couldn't be contained.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Ignore me singing and the less than awesome camera work. "This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending..."</span></div>
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In the last two weeks I've managed to hit the gym approximately three times... epic fail. But I managed to make it today and kick my own butt a little, and I'm re-doing a week of my training plan. It's kind of nice to know that I am making strides (hah. pun not intended) even with my intermittent schedule; I'm still not the future marathoner of my dreams (hahaha. joke) but my endurance is definitely growing and I can feel myself getting stronger.</div>
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My tentative goal is to find a race to run in late November, before it gets SERIOUSLY cold in New York. I also MUST get to BDC to get a new club card so I can start dancing again.</div>
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Next week I have two <i>A Christmas Carol</i> auditions on the calendar (ah, October), an all-female <i>Julius Caesar</i> (uh. fun!), and hopefully a bunch more things besides when people start responding to my emails. In the mean time, I'll continue to try to have a balanced approach to the fun and living like an adult. We'll see how that goes.</div>
Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-88120416778264525002012-10-02T15:12:00.001-04:002012-10-02T15:12:19.923-04:00A little attitude checkNow I KNOW we've hit some kind of record. Don't keel over in shock, <strike>readers</strike> <a href="http://kittykatconundrums.blogspot.com/">Kitty Kat</a>. I'm updating my blog twice in a week.<br />
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Out here in audition-land, yesterday I went to the open call for Prather Entertainment Group, who do the casting for several large dinner theatres and regional theatres across the country as well as national tour producing, and an appointment for a new musical based on the music of Lady Gaga entitled <i>Lives on the Edge</i>.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Prather Logo looking all official and shit. Not at all intimidating.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Gaga frankly also looking a little intimdating. Am I the only person who thinks that meeting her in person might be terrifying? Like pretty cool, I guess, but also most likely terrifying.</span></div>
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The Prather open call proved to me that last week's good luck was short lived; I arrived at 8 am to find myself number 113 on the list. Not horrible, but also not great. Womp womp. Sat around, drank my coffee, ate my egg&cheese on an English muffin (whoops), read my book (finished <i>The Hunger Games</i> triology for the second time... I really need to re-read less and first time read more), and when they announced they expected to get through 40 people an hour, I decided around 10:15 that I might as well leave for my 11 am appointment.<br />
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I mosey over from Chelsea Studios to DANY Studios for my <i>Lives on the Edge </i>appointment, at which they'd like us to dance first.<br />
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For those of you in the know, I reeeeeally dislike that. It's not that I can't dance. It's not even that I'm not a good dancer. But I'm not a fast learner of choreography and that tends to be my downfall in an audition setting. Plus I get all in my own head about not being a "dancer" and no matter what I try to think my face just reads "oh god please tell me I'm getting all of this right and look semi-competant." Plus like dancers in their real dance clothes (okay yes, I own those) and LaDucas just intimidate me.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">LaDuca character shoes, aka the musical theatre world's answer to the red soul on a Christian Louboutin. Ah, one day.</span></div>
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Anyway. The choreography wasn't so difficult (as the choreographer/director pointed out, if he could do it in skinny jeans we ought to have no problem) and it was to a song of Gaga's I legitimately enjoy (I have a complicated relationship to her music... in that some songs I like and am ashamed to like, some songs I unabashedly love, and some I just don't get and think are horrible and the general population seems to adore). I learned quickly by lurking through my group of 10 that we represent a myriad of skill levels, which also mellows out my dance jitteriness.<br />
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We get through it, it goes as well as can be expected, and then out of those 10, they kept 7 people. Note that I don't say "of us." Yes, dear readers, I was among the only 30% not kept. And as I watched who they did keep, there were DEFINITELY people I was better than. Womp womp.<br />
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I walked out feeling cranky and unsettled and just generally put out when I realized something... I was pissed off to have not gotten a callback. Duh, right? But hear me out. The last two weeks have been so much more about getting back on the audition wagon that the outcomes have been less important to me than the act of actually <i>doing</i> the auditions. My disappointment, in it's way, was refreshing - and frankly sort of a relief - because I'm starting to get over the hump and actually, you know, start really caring again.<br />
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Went back to Prather and learned that though they were collecting headshots for my group, they weren't going to see us after lunch. Genius that I am, I had left my keys at home so I returned home for a snack and a bitching session with my roommate. Went back to Prather and remembered why I shouldn't on a whim decide to sing songs in my book that I don't usually do, and was unsurprisingly not called back there either. Again. I was pissed on my way home... I was pissed all the way from 27th and 7th to 47th and 9th until it dawned on me that this should be a <b>productive</b> emotion. Yeah. I'm pissed off. But it means all I want to do is do better. And in a way, that's a comforting thing to know.<br />
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I didn't exactly succeed at that today, though. When my alarm went off at 7 am for the Disney Cruise Line call it just wasn't happening. I didn't sleep well and I turned my alarm off like a zombie before I even really knew what I was doing. It happens. I think they call that listening to your body. But I was in the gym by 10 am (and knocked out 5 miles between the treadmill and the elliptical) and had cleaned my whole apartment by 2:30, so we can't call today a total loss.<br />
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Tomorrow is a new day: <i>Cabaret</i> time at Westchester Sandbox Theatre. That disappointment thing sucks, so let's go rock it out.<br />
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I'm channeling my inner Sally Bowles as we speak. Watch out, y'all.</div>
Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-11403462595464318852012-09-30T19:07:00.002-04:002012-09-30T19:07:45.732-04:00In which the transformation to responsible adult takes an alarming shift forward...<div style="text-align: center;">
Okay, maybe not alarming.</div>
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But to begin with, I'm updating my blog twice within the same month! Given the recent trends, this has to be some kind of record.</div>
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<i>Audition update</i>:</div>
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Since we last spoke, the total is 9, of a potential 12. This my friends is pretty damn good! Not as good as I was doing when I was actually productive, but pretty good. </div>
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Last <b>Monday</b> night I auditioned for <i>2 a.m.</i>, a new play with Manhattan Rep. Read sides and felt pretty good about it. The sides were loooong! I actually read a more or less full-length scene in an audition, which was odd. Funny scene about a girl who broke up with her boyfriend. His tactic to win her back is to pretend her breaking up with him spared him the trouble... only to have it totally backfire when it completely pisses her off and she unloads all the things she's mad at him for... toooootally not something I would do. Nope. Not at all.</div>
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Decided to pass on open calls on <b>Tuesday</b> as they were for <i>Cirque du Soleil</i> (for singers; obviously I have not gained a new and unhuman level of flexibility) and <i>The Addams Family</i> and let's face it, I'm just not dark and twisty looking enough. There may or may not also have been laaaaate night pancakes involved on Monday after maaaaaybe some cocktails that rendered getting up at 7 am out of the question. It happens. Baby steps. I worked heavily on revamping <a href="http://www.siobhanstevenson.com/">my website</a>, however, and did some bonding with Backstage/Actors Access/Playbill. Not an altogether unproductive day.</div>
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<b>Wednesday</b> shlepped it to Brooklyn <i>and</i> Queens in the same day to audition for Pride not Prejudice, an educational touring company, and a new play at the Secret Theatre. And then to work. Did I mention I was in three boroughs in one day, if we count Manhattan? </div>
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<b>Thursday</b> I finally conquered my fear of the AEA center! Okay, okay, I didn't conquer my fear of EPAs or ECCs (yes, this is embarrassing. I'm working on it. Kind of. Well I will, now that I'm not afraid of the building). But I did have an appointment for something there and I went in and it wasn't totally intimidating. Until I saw someone who graduated the year after me there who had an appointment for something Equity. Aka he was actually union. And a year younger than me. Ugh. Men have it so easy. Attempted to go to an open call for <i>Hamlet</i> that afternoon but I made a crucial error in forgetting that Shakespeare people are even more eager than musical theatre people... how unlucky for those around me that I am both. Anyway, this of course meant that showing up for this open call around 5:30 (it began at 4), getting a time slot for "6:05" and overhearing that people who'd arrived at 3:45 still hadn't been seen. I overheard this at 6:30 and realized that, since the call ended at 7, the odds of me being seen were slim to none. Meaning none.</div>
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Couldn't get my shift covered for <b>Monday</b> of this week, which meant, sadly, missing the <i>Rock of Ages</i> Vegas call. Talk about something I'm <b>actually</b> right for. 80s? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP, PLEASE. </div>
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One day I will make it to a <i>Rock of Ages</i> call and it will be great. A girl can dream, right?</div>
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<b>Tuesday</b> I got back into open call land for Stiletto Entertainment Cruises. I would <b>love</b> to book a cruise ship gig and it's one of my biggest goals in the upcoming year. </div>
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It was at this call that I was struck again by how incredibly ODD the whole open call protocol is. You get up at the crack of dawn to sign an unofficial list and <i>hope</i> they'll honor it, and then sit corralled with 100 of your closest musical theatre friends as you listen to them warm up and watch them curl their hair and put on a full face of makeup. Before 9 am. My friends, this is not the kind of musical theatre girl I am in the slightest and yet this is part of my ordinary life. Last year, <strike>Columbia Guy</strike> somebody that I used to know pointed out to me that the whole audition culture is a very, very strange one. [Frankly, it was one of the things that endeared me to him but that time in my life has come and gone, and besides I have hashed that out EXTENSIVELY on this blog already (barf).] I had never thought about it that way until someone wholly uninitiated to my lifestyle pointed it out, but it's an astute observation. Auditioning in general is a weird notion, but I'll save my thoughts there for another post. Anyway, my return to open calling was shockingly painless as somehow, my 7:55 arrival time made me just number 13 on the list? CRAZYTOWN. Sadly, Stiletto likes to teach you music, meaning I was stuck in holding listen to all of my 100 closest musical theatre friends sing "A Moment Like This" over and over again. The. Horror. </div>
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Left from there to go down to 440 Lafayette, or as I will forever know it Playwrights' Horizons, for another educational theatre appointment. I have never felt older than I did sitting at Playwrights on a freshman class day, listening to them talk about Writing the Essay and Intro to Theatre Studies and dorms. And hating on Strasberg! Got briefly indignant before I realized I was quietly resenting <b>an 18 year old</b> from afar, and this made me feel even older. Also, being at Playwrights also always has the uncanny ability to make me feel uncomfortable even this much time later, so it's never my favorite audition venue. Eh. It is what it is. My hacking cough of the morning was getting worse, so I decided to pass on the afternoon open call for Jean Ann Ryan entertainment. According to auditionupdate.com, it was a zoo, so I did not feel at ALL bad about this.</div>
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<b>Wednesday</b> I got up and did it again for Theatreworks and an appointment for Midtown Arts Center. Theatreworks was SHOCKINGLY efficient for their usual audition style (guys I love you, but seeing 20 people in an hour is so not okay) and it was with great surprise that I discovered being number 63 put me at the top of the 2nd hour. Finagled the two auditions in the same time frame with relative ease, and ducked out out Chelsea to get to Nola. Midtown Arts Center was casting <i>Legally Blonde</i>, primarily, and I was the ONLY non-blonde at the call. Awkward. Note to self: at least wear pink to those. Got back to Theatreworks and was pleased that the auditioner who brought me in from last years' open call for another show was behind the table and remembered me! Feel pretty confident about how I sang there so fingers crossed for results from that this year.</div>
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Nothing through the weekend - missed Amateur Night at the Apollo which would have been fun I think, but sadly my job beckoned. Tomorrow's agenda is Prather Entertainment Group open call and an appointment for a Lady Gaga musical. Oh boy. Disney on Tuesday, that's always a joy.</div>
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<i>Meanwhile, in exercise land:</i></div>
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So, I've been training with the help of the <a href="http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml">Couch Potato to 5K</a> approach and I'm liking it so far! It works by training you incrementally with longer and longer runs. Pretty good, for a devoted elliptical (aka non) runner.</div>
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It's not exactly turning me into the runner of my dreams, nor is it really taking <i>away</i> my hatred of running, but it's mitigating it at least and it's keeping me on task. AND, I ran outside for the first time. This for me is HUGE, because I generally maintain that I'm devoted to the treadmill because it eliminates the human laziness aspect of me... well, wanting to stop. Turns out, I can motivate <i>myself</i> to keep going, and it gives you a lot more to look at!</div>
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I haven't signed up for a race yet because I'd rather feel confident that I can do it and then have the luxury of choosing a race rather than stressing about picking a race and meeting a deadline. Odd, that's usually the opposite of how I work... but once I get into the longer training runs I'll get down to the race-choosing.</div>
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I also bought new running shoes FINALLY! They're hot pink. I've been lusting after these:</div>
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<a href="http://s7ondemand1.scene7.com/is/image/roadrunnersports/NIK1459-BEWH?wid=500&hei=500&s=9.5&w=B" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://s7ondemand1.scene7.com/is/image/roadrunnersports/NIK1459-BEWH?wid=500&hei=500&s=9.5&w=B" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Nike Air Pegasus 29</span></div>
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But by the time I finally got my act together and wanted to purchase them, I couldn't find them freaking ANYWHERE. Well, at least in the right size and color. Listen, the pink is really important to me okay. If I have to be shell out and spend real money on running shoes, I damn well better enjoy being seen in them. So instead I took to the internet, and bought these instead. For $10 less and brighter pink, I'll take it... even if I have to wait on shipping.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Asics Gel Nimbus 33</span></div>
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I've been making it to the gym pretty regularly and I think I'm finally starting to find my groove. Next step is getting back into dance class and then conquering my fear of group exercise classes at my gym. That's the stupidest thing ever, of course, because I've been going to drop in dance classes for years and it's exactly the same thing... but somehow the idea of doing it at the gym for something that's not dance just seems really weird. I've also decided I want to give yoga another shot. God, definitely stay tuned for that hot mess, as years ago I decided I wasn't zen enough for yoga. Then again, I also NEVER thought I'd train for a 5K either. Baby steps towards becoming a fitness guru!</div>
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Life, in other news, goes on as usual. I'm trying to eat better and mostly doing a good job of it, although I haven't been to the grocery store in ages so I'm getting bored of the same 6 things I can make myself with the food that remains to me at home. Working a lot and more or less LIVING out of the Manch. I've only wanted to tear my hair out and run screaming from the building once in the last two weeks, so there's something.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Say hello to my workplace!</span></div>
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Got my first checks from acting gigs, which makes me feel more like a real actor and less like the building above owns my soul and sanity. It's the little things. I also have been doing so much waking up and going to sleep early that for once, my sleeping habits actually resemble those of a functional adult! It's really, really bizarre. Worry not, I have an out of town friend meandering about New York this week so I'm sure the next time I make an appearance back at this blog I'll have some debauchery to speak about.</div>
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Lastly, my beloved San Francisco Giants (who I'm watching right now, thanks MLB.tv!) clinched the NL West. #ORANGEOCTOBER. Get ready. </div>
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This was the Giants' playoff anthem in 2010. I think the sentiment holds.</div>
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This productivity thing is weird. We'll see what else happens.</div>
Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-53491836834040718072012-09-13T02:08:00.000-04:002012-09-13T02:08:08.826-04:00Getting my act together and taking it on the road...Why hello there, blogosphere!<br />
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My one reader <a href="http://kittykatconundrums.blogspot.com/">Kitty Kat</a> will be thrilled to see I've returned to the world of blogging. Other than that, who the hell knows or cares.<br />
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I've once again been on a blog reading kick, and I feel like mine deserves some love. And a tiny bit of an image makeover. Or a direction shift at least.<br />
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I still love navel gazing and bestowing my asinine thoughts upon you, the good people of the internet, but I'm also thinking that as I try to make something of an internal makeover, this blog could actually be a tool to keep me accountable to myself. Sort of a combination professional/personal/attempted health and fitness/theatre/asinine ramblings about life blog. Gotta keep that last one in there - I am who I am, after all.<br />
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It's been an eventful, crazy fast summer.<br />
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<b>June</b> saw the beginning of rehearsal for a summer show that I loved, the beginning of rehearsals for a summer show I did not, and a lot of the requisite craziness summer in this city seems to require. Getting myself in a little trouble, watching the sun rise a few too many times... the usual. Perhaps most importantly, June saw the going away party of one of my oldest and dearest friends in New York. Ridiculous, tearful, and drunk are the words I'd use.<br />
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<b>July</b> brought me to Bermuda to see the aforementioned friend (hint: this friend is my one reader!) and the second time I've left the continental US in 2012 (win!) and the second time in two years I've actually used my passport (double win! doubling the amount of times I used it in 2007-2011). Sunny, touristy, drunk again, and BIRTHDAY ON AN ISLAND. Returned from Bermuda, celebrated again in New York, dropped out/got asked to leave the show I did not like. Mixed results and feelings about that. Did the show I did like and got to get down and dirty with some fake blood, a teddy bear as a weapon, and <strike>lots of</strike> not a lot of costumes. The fam came, there were limos and brunch and baseball and it was fantastic. I took another job and watched a lot of eurocup at Manch and served a lot of tourists some autogratted beers. Whoops.<br />
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<b>August</b> saw me shoot a tv show for the first time (look out for me as a dead college student on Biography's Celebrity Ghost Stories! I'll be on imdb and everything!) and go down to Edisto South Carolina for DAYTONA 94. Sun, fun, friends, Dunworkin, road trippin, boozin', eatin', cookin', skinny dipping and turning myself brown as our hardwood furniture. And in the meantime, a wee bit of soul searching brought back a Siobhan I've actually really missed for a long time - the happy, positive, focused girl I've lost track of for a while. She's not perfect and she's still definitely going to fuck shit up on the way to reclaiming this better self. But god, it feels really good to work on it.<br />
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Oh, right, and it was my five year anniversary with New York. Which is pretty huge, I think?<br />
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And that sort of brings me to where we are today.<br />
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It's <b>September</b>. Rather than wake me up when September ends, I like to wake up when September begins. Who knows? Maybe my brain still operates on a back to school pattern but I find myself more motivated in the fall than around New Years'. Took a week in California to see my family and puppies and some baseball and do all the touristy things with one of the (New York) usual suspects, and reconnect with some old friends.<br />
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I guess I do sort of still measure my years in the school way, because it seems difficult to wrap my mind around everything that's happened this time last year that I still think of as only a few months ago. Time flies when you're alive, I guess.<br />
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I mentioned the refocusing of the blog. Professionally, that means reports on auditions and castings and career related things. Keep me accountable to myself. Health(ily?), that means I'm doing this new thing where I'm going to really work on eating better... and I have this crazy idea that I want to run a 5k. Stay tuned for that party (oh. oh wait. no that sounds like the exact OPPOSITE of a party). Personally... well we'll have to see. And in the meantime, expect my usual share of asinine ramblings.<br />
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xoxo<br />
gossip girl<br />
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...No I'm totally kidding, I just didn't have a witty sign off prepared.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-78923939264522127932012-05-03T22:02:00.002-04:002012-05-03T22:02:20.783-04:00keep it positive (as you pull her hair and call her whore)Kidding!<br />
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There are no girl fights in my life at present, I promise. But sadly when I was thinking about how to title this post I kept coming back to <i>Legally Blonde the Musical</i>, so... that's that.<br />
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For those of you keeping track at home, the last two posts have been... kind of a downer. WHOOPS Y'ALL. I swear to you that good things <b>did</b> happen to me between November and April, and that good things have happened to me <b>since</b> April. I did not (entirely) let some guy ruin my life for four months.<br />
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If you know the song "Somebody that I Used to Know" (and if not, what rock have you lived under since like last September? Shit is allllll over the internets), you might know that there's a lyric that goes "you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness." I think that's true, and frankly I think that's in part what I did - I think I got stuck on the idea of being upset about this guy, because it was easier to be upset about <b>him</b> than... well, to work on a way to move out of that part of my life. But move I did, spurred by someone on Facebook checking in about their New Years' Resolutions. Why, you ask? Because mine was to be more positive.<br />
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...No seriously. It was.<br />
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I've given you ample space for laughter, so I'll continue. OBVIOUSLY, for those of you keeping score with the blog and/or those of you who've talked to me since... say, February, I haven't been doing a great job of that. But I've realized it <i>is </i>important to me and since I've made at least a somewhat conscious effort to focus on this again, I really have been happier. Who knew. It actually <b>is</b> that simple.<br />
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Which brings me to the actual idea of this post. Today I was at the gym (as part of my "positivity" plan I've realized a somewhat shocking thing - I'm the kind of person who likes working out and actually needs activity to keep me sane) when I realized that... the gym's kind of strange, guys. I understand the concept, but when you consider the abstract idea of paying money to do something you can do for free in nature (or concrete, if you also reside in New York City), the specifics that come together there seem that much odder.<br />
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To begin with, in the locker room I saw a woman coming out of class in an honest to god thong leotard over biker shorts. Y'all it is 2012. I mean I look like a scrub at the gym but the shit some people wear to work out baffles the hell out of me - from the people who still legitimately believe this is a gym look to the people who wear the shapeless vaguely plastic looking sweat jackets to the people who spend an absurd amount of money on matching Nike or LuluLemon athletic wear, gym fashion is a strange, strange animal.<br />
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The aforementioned woman then struck up a conversation with another woman who she had just come out of class with - but both were in the NUDE. In what other environment would this be okay?!? Call me prudish but I found this incredibly strange.<br />
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This of course sends my highly analytical self on a strangely detached observation of this odd collection of strange machines and smells and noises that, somehow, are one of the most "normal" people of everyone's daily life. Strange the weird things that become routine.<br />
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...But I've gotta say, sweaty and disgusting though I was when I left, I <b>did</b> feel better about my day. Positivity, indeed.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-79423921536769145942012-04-04T02:35:00.003-04:002012-04-04T22:53:39.544-04:00zen and the art of being single in manhattan, or why i can never go above 96th street againThis is usually the place where I'd put a disclaimer about how I suck at having a blog, and that's true, but I frankly can't say I'll ever get better.<div><br /></div><div>The truth is I've had lots of blog-worthy thoughts since November. There are notes on my cell phone, little ideas that come to half-fruition in my head but never see the light of day in print, so to speak, because I get lazy or I (so I claim) don't spend a whole lot of time in front of my computer during the day.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the simple truth is for longer than I care to admit, I haven't returned to this blog because I re-read that last post and realize I haven't gotten anywhere. Sure, I've accomplished a reasonable amount in the new year since that time - I've left a job I hated, I've joined a theatre company with whom I've done two shows, I've gone on vacation, I've auditioned, I've job hunted, I've done a reading and gotten cast in a second, and I've gotten (shockingly) back into a workout routine and even become one of those people that enjoys exercise. It's not a bad tally for barely four months. And yet... I come to my blog and I see what I wrote last and it's still too true.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some of you are probably rolling your eyes at me, calling me pathetic and wondering why in god's name I'm not over this yet. You wouldn't say it to my face, of course, and I appreciate that. Because the fact is I levy the same judgement at myself. That's part of the "zen and the art of being single in Manhattan" bit. You're supposed to hate it this much but accept it with a sort of world-weary complacence. Because of <i>Sex and the City</i> it is somehow more glamorous to be single here than in, say, San Jose California (just as a for instance) so therefore it can't really be as bad as all that, right? And therefore I judge myself for my own... well... misery. Besides, I think, I am the kind of career minded single girl who in truth doesn't really have time for a boyfriend, particularly not to still be somewhat hung up on someone who in all likelihood never really cared too much in the first place.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's the catch, you see, though. The zen is disturbed by what seems so much more common here than anywhere else - that tantalizing almost. That place you get to where you believe you may not be in it by yourself for that much longer. That terrifying but terrific place where you ACTUALLY get to hope for once. The place you get to look back on four months later with a gaping sense of emptiness and your own patheticness when you realize it's very possible it was all in your head. And so you find yourself, in spite of maintaining your own firm "I'm so over it," doing things like, say... hating the 2 train. Refusing to go to Morningside Heights when not ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY and bitching about it when it is. Holding a grudge against a certain university in that Manhattan locality. Instinctively hating the Orlando Magic. Realizing you somehow find a breed of dog you never liked adorable and then punishing yourself for that thought.</div><div><br /></div><div>Realizing, in the end, that all these small things remind you of someone who was for all intents and purposes never there. Was never worthy of this level of your concern and yet... there was that hope. There was that blind, irrational, STUPID fucking hope - which is a word I also hate right now, by the way - which is the hardest thing of all to let go of.</div><div><br /></div><div>This isn't the first time this has happened to me, of course. But at that time those things that I couldn't stand, those things that made me want to simultaneously cry and scream and puke - and frankly, in a far worse way - were also things I absolutely couldn't avoid. Call it immersion therapy but mere exposure made it get easier faster.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So yes. I should be over it. I'm sorry that I'm not, because I thought I was doing okay. But mostly because I've learned that the "zen" in being single in Manhattan is not really zen at all, it's just re-training yourself not to care over and over and over and over and over and over and over again and finding each time it works just a little bit more, but not quite enough.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's too much, and not enough.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-76818368516350362132011-11-22T12:06:00.004-05:002011-11-22T12:29:18.025-05:00why it still really sucks to get pseudo-dumped by someone you were "sort of seeing"(Giving credit where credit is due: I've been reading a lot of <a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/">Thought Catalogue</a> lately, so this post is largely inspired by them, though not as well written.)<div><br /></div><div>Take this formula: girl meets boy in bar, thinks nothing of it. Ends up casually seeing this boy for several weeks. Refuses to decide if she think it's anything more than casual, even though it seems like he'd like it to be more than casual. Grows unwittingly (or wittingly but without admission) more attached while maintaining to herself the relationship's casual nature. Continues "casually" seeing this boy for several more weeks, verging into the multiple months territory. Suddenly becomes wittingly more attached/admittedly attached at the precise moment when the boy starts to ignore her. Decides to, as best as she (in a somewhat emotionally stunted about relationships way) can, put it out there that she'd like to make this less casual. Learn he did make it less casual. With someone else.</div><div><br /></div><div>The argument could be put forth that, since while it seemed he was looking for something casual she was looking for something less casual, she sort of had it coming. On the other hand, the argument could be put forth that she misread the signs and had no real reason to be surprised when this abruptly blew up in her face. The argument could be put forth that at least she tried, and isn't that something? And all these arguments have their merit.</div><div><br /></div><div>The thing about these arguments is they don't account for the part where the girl can't help but just not get it. What changed, and when. They don't account for the part where the girl always assumed that if and when this DID blow up in her face, it would be because he was bored or busy or not looking for anything serious. They don't account for the part where he was looking for something - just not with her. They don't account for the part where she can't stop asking why not her. They don't account for the part where it's about him, but it's more about the deflation of that scary but great feeling where she thought this could really be something.</div><div><br /></div><div>But these are all feelings contingent upon a real relationship, she'll think. These are all feelings she doesn't necessarily deserve to have, so she'll stuff them down as best she can when talking to friends and pretending that she knows she's making it a bigger deal than it really is. These are all feelings she shouldn't have when being blown off by someone who very likely didn't care very much in the first place, or very likely wouldn't have mattered much in the long run.</div><div><br /></div><div>The trouble is, the girl is me. The story is, the girl is me. And the trouble is it's not a story at all. So for the next few days, I won't send the passive aggressive text and I will continue pretending it's not a big deal. But it turns out? This still kind of blows.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-46436730115376080862011-11-15T02:35:00.004-05:002011-11-16T00:32:23.498-05:00People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.<div>When we first moved to California and I was miserably, desperately homesick, my dad - no stranger to the relatively nomadic lifestyle already being bred in his then 8 year old child - would remind me that my friends may no longer have been <i>physically</i> close, but it was no reason for them to no longer be <i>close</i> friends. "How do you get mail? Send it" was the refrain, and it instilled in me a fairly important lesson at a young age - that friendships, no matter how close, take work. They take putting in the time and the effort. </div><div><br /></div><div>I mentioned in my <a href="http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/2011/10/oh-hello-there-blogosphere.html">life recap</a> that I recently reconnected with someone I was fairly certain I'd never speak to again. And it's funny, actually, because years and years ago when things first started to go south with this friend, I believe I said something to the effect of "I've never let somebody walk out of my life, and I'm not about to start with you." Only... I kind of did just that. Whoops. Now as is always the case, the falling out wasn't nearly that simple, but it's also not the point of this post.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rather what's been floating around in my brain is the process of reconnecting - because I feel like it's supposed to be awesome, right? And it is <b>nice</b>, but you know what else? It's fucking WEIRD.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because everything feels like it should be easier. Because somehow you're supposed to ignore that time where you weren't in one another's lives, but it's impossible to pretend time hasn't passed that you didn't know each other. Because there's a trust that has to be rebuilt, and yet it's supposed to already exist. Because everything seems the same, but nothing is. </div><div><br /></div><div>To be honest, I never thought I'd be here - certainly not with this person, but really in general. I thought I had taken that lesson to heart when I was a child, thought I was a better "friend" (in the abstract) than this<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">, extenuating circumstances in this case notwithstanding.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">I realize now, a good deal older and a (only a little) more mature than I was at 8, that our California move had to have been harder on my parents than it was on me. Their friends too were all on the other side of the country (world, it might as well have been to me then), and they of course 1) didn't have the luxury of school and 2) had already left everything behind only six reasonably short years earlier. And yet they spoke to those friends almost everyday. Still do, and they are <i>still</i> across the country from those people. It's something I admire immensely, and something I often feel I should work harder at.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">For a lot of reasons I'm glad the person that inspired this post has come back into my life, and as I said I was pretty positive that wouldn't ever happen. It took a lot to get to where I am now, to be glad instead of to be afraid it would all go to hell again. But that's the risk, I think. Of relationships, but of friendships too - those wounds can sting just as deeply as a relationship gone wrong, and often sticks for a lot longer.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">The quote that titles this post is by Audrey Hepburn, and like the right quote does, rang very, very, almost painfully true to me the first time I heard it. It still does, but I haven't done quite as good a job with it in recent years. This situation is specific unto itself, but has in a larger way reminded me that that's true. To extrapolate from what my dad said those many years ago, how do you keep friends? Be one. 8 year old self with the silly email address and horrific long distance bill (sorry family!), you might have been onto something.</span></div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-77167580011580606132011-11-06T00:47:00.002-04:002011-11-06T01:02:48.439-04:00Epic. Audition. Fail.This Thursday, I had the absolute worst audition of my life for Northern Stage's upcoming production of <i>Annie</i>.<div><br /></div><div>Let me first preface this by saying that I'm not rock solid on why I submitted for this in the first place as 1) it's <i>Annie</i> and I didn't even really like the movie as a kid, 2) it's in Vermont in December and I'm cold enough in New York as it is, and 3) doing the show would mean not going home for Christmas following me already not going home for Thanksgiving. All the same I did, and they called me about auditioning, so I scheduled the appointment and in I went.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Now in my not-so-long and reasonably undistinguished career, there have already been a handful of auditions all ranging from so-so to downright awful, but nothing quiiiiite tops my experience from Thursday.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>To begin, I should say the first problem was my own, namely that I was given music to learn and clearly did not do so to the best of my ability. I can blame work and the apartment hunt for taking up all my time and this is true, but frankly, I just should have known the song better. That, plus though it wasn't, say "Tomorrow" or "Little Girls," just about every aspiring musical theatre diva in her right mind knows "NYC" - or at least, every one but me. Nevertheless to be sure it created a not-to-stellar impression when I had to stop and restart not once, not twice, but a record <b>three</b> times. Strike one.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I finally actually start singing to discover that I have NO voice. And for no good reason, either! Not allergies, not drinking, not yelling, not sleep deprivation, nor ANY of the other usual culprits (aka really one of the first two but every once in a while a different one). The sounds I was producing in no way resembled good singing but in every way resembled the voice of a person who - to outsider ears - was far, far too sick to have bothered coming to audition that day. And I can't even justify that it was a good acting performance, because my only thought was "please god let me get through the song so this will be over." And we all know I can't keep anything off my face, so clearly that much was obvious as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>To top it all off, I have (I would later learn) an ulcer on the surface of my right eye, thus making the eye in question at the time of the audition a frightening shade of Halloween costume red. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not my finest hour. I quite literally <i>apologized</i> on my way out the door and bolted from the building like it was on fire. Humiliating on EVERY level.</div><div><br /></div><div>But here's the thing - two years ago, if that had happened I would have gone home and cried to myself for an hour or two and then beaten up on myself for the next anywhere between two hours and weeks, convinced that this WOULD happen to me and it was a sign of my general talentlessness. (What can I say, I'm kind of hard on myself.) And I can't say that twinges of that didn't creep in as I called my parents and texted sympathetic actor friends to complain. But my overall reaction was "well fuck, that sucked, I'm fairly well humiliated, but I'll get over it." This is BIG, people. It means I might actually - finally - be learning something about the game I'm playing here. And so on to the next.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-21543990106010144492011-10-25T02:06:00.006-04:002011-10-25T02:30:04.272-04:00oh hello there, blogosphere!Lately, I've been on a blog reading binge, which lead me to remember, oh right! I have a blog!<div><br /></div><div>Out of curiosity I added my own to my reading material and lo-and-behold, noticed that I haven't updated since July. Whooooops. (And crapped out in the middle of my second 30-Day-Challenge that I made it only like 6 days into. Double whoops.)</div><div><br /></div><div>So what have I been up to? It seems like it hasn't been that much time since July, but it would appear I've done quite a bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since July I've:</div><div>Quit a job that was making me slowly but surely completely insane.</div><div>Seen three Broadway shows.</div><div>Looked manically for a new job and perfected the art of lying through my teeth/convincing people I am a far more competent waitress than I appear on paper.</div><div>Did a show!</div><div>Procured said new job!</div><div>Met a nice Irish boy. </div><div>Said goodbye to the nice Irish boy a few weeks later.</div><div>Braved a (totally uneventful/lamest ever) hurricane.</div><div>Signed on to do a show that, I thought, was totally not me at all.</div><div>Reconnected with someone who I was pretty sure I'd never speak to again and became, it seems, pretty good friends with that person again.</div><div>Finally saw an actual baseball game at Yankee stadium.</div><div>Joined a new gym.</div><div>Quickly realized I had transitioned to working <i>all the time</i>.</div><div>Actually opened that show I thought was totally not me at all and completely fell in love with the show, the creative team, and just about everything about it.</div><div>Danced in the rain, performed for the New York Times, wore a prom dress in public at age 22, and learned to operate a puppet.</div><div>Wrote my own love letter to New York.</div><div>Discovered that I really, really hate brunch.</div><div>Discovered that I really, really love fall.</div><div>Had a lovely albeit brief visit with my family, both biological and otherwise.</div><div>Turns out, met another boy. More on that later.</div><div>Made significant headway on my student loan debt (perk of working <i>all the time</i>). </div><div>Fell down on the job a little with the whole audition thing - downsides of doing 7 shows a week and working all the time.</div><div>Began to plan to move to my 12th address in 22 years.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>...And the usual shenanigans with the usual suspects and a new cast of characters at work, and about a million and a half other things. There are some entertaining anecdotes, some things I need to puzzle through, and some reflections. And I figure since I've spent so much time reading blogs lately, it's probably time I gave my own a little more love.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't - and won't - promise consistency, but hey. Who knows? Maybe someone out there (besides my dear friend <a href="http://www.blogger.com/kittykatconundrums.blogspot.com">Kitty Kat</a>) will add me to <i>their</i> compulsive blog reading!</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-73287274948338383122011-07-10T12:25:00.003-04:002011-07-10T12:44:25.111-04:00mmmmm delicious<i>30+ Day Challenge: What You Ate [Yesterday]</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div>...Okay so 1) it's supposed to read "today" but it's the beginning of today rather than the end of yesterday and 2) why is this one of the questions?</div><div><br /></div><div>Nonetheless, yesterday:</div><div>1) 1 slice Papa John's pizza. Didn't quiiiiite work out.</div><div>2) Aloha Pineapple Jamba Juice</div><div>3) Sourdough Parmesan pretzel</div><div>4) Bread & sundried tomato olive oil</div><div>5) Caprese salad</div><div>6) Spaghetti pomodoro</div><div>7) Coldstone</div><div><br /></div><div>Mmmm delicious/fatness. Note to self: re-join a gym at earliest convenience. Double note to self: go grocery shopping & stop spending money.</div><div><br /></div><div>...Really though. Why is this a question. I now bring you back to your regularly scheduled life.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-71438158093917990472011-06-28T02:36:00.006-04:002011-06-28T02:55:02.214-04:00ooooh, i really hate yo ass right now<i>30 Day (ish - look I'm tryinggggg this is still the most blog posts I've done in a month!) Challenge: 5 Pet Peeves</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b>1. Whining about things that are good</b>: These things include but are not limited to whining about travel (ughhh I'm never home! I was just in Europe for two weeks and now I have to go to Asia), over-commitment with things that are awesome (oh fuck, I have an audition and a rehearsal and a callback AND another rehearsal and a staged reading), and why having a boyfriend isn't as good as being single (he bought me dinner AGAIN and all I wanted to do was stay home!). This might actually be my biggest pet peeve at present.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>2. People who are not poor who say they are</b>: If you <i>ever</i> openly admit in my presence that you a) don't have a job, b) aren't looking for a job, and c) intend to live off of mommy and daddy's money for as long as humanly possible without contributing at all because you for ANY reason feel that they owe you after the age of 22, the next time I say let's go to dinner if you say you can't because you're broke/it's expensive, I'M GOING TO STAB YOU. I have three jobs and I'm still way below the poverty line. Shut the fuck up, tell your parents thank you, and don't talk to me until you learn ANYTHING about the value of money.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>3. Reading over my shoulder</b>: A simple classic. Please. It gives me the heebie jeebies. I admit that I have an unreasonably high personal space boundary, but really. Just ask - I'll give you the book/magazine/newspaper or turn my computer your way.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>4. Poor grammar</b>: Another simple classic. Your and you're? Not the same. Ditto there, their, and they're. See again it's and its. Don't get me started on comma usage or incorrect plurality.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>5. Being asked why I don't have a boyfriend</b>: Dear men everywhere - asking me why I don't have a boyfriend in that bewildered, "you're so great" way is not flattering, it's annoying. It does NOT make me want to smile demurely or laugh or bat my eyelashes or flirt. It makes me want to say "I don't fucking know, so you'd better tell me what it is about me that strikes you as undateable" and then stalk away in my most enraged but still appealing way. This goes double if you and I have <i>ever</i> engaged in any sort of... flirtation and <i>triple</i> if we've ever actually dated but you're curious as to why I'm still single now.</div><div><br /></div><div>[<b>6. Honorable mention -the word moist. </b>Seriously, my hatred of this word is so well known that people will say "that word you don't like" rather than say moist in my presence.]</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-56250405082412094082011-06-12T23:30:00.003-04:002011-06-15T01:18:56.251-04:00dj blow my speakers up30 Day Challenge, Day 6 (and change. so sue me.): <i>Your views on mainstream music</i>.<div><br /></div><div>You know it's funny - when I moved to New York, I essentially altogether stopped listening to the radio, because I stopped driving. So for the better part of 3 years, I knew songs that became monster hits & songs that got played at bars, but I had more or less no idea what was "mainstream" music. Oh, except for songs that became part of the baller medlies. Obvs. This of course happened not because of a conscientious abstention from pop music but rather a matter of simple circumstance, rather than my younger days of trying to suit my music taste to fit that of my punk and alternative loving friends. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I began working at a dance studio, and my life was all top-40 all the time. A friend and I had a conversation last summer wherein he decided to see how many songs on the Billboard Hot 100 he knew - he came up with 6 in the top 10, I came up with 45 in the top 60. Which, though faintly humiliating, also lead me to a realization - of those songs certainly MANY sucked, but there were a good number I actually enjoyed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've spent most of my life having an extremely eclectic music taste - I've always said that I'll listen to anything as long as it's good. And yet, I've also spent quite a long time trying to make my music taste suit that of those around me - listening to alternative bands or indie bands or rap artists or hair metal bands because someone close to me said it was worth listening to, and pretending to like bands I love less because they were a cliche or obvious or unpopular choice. Then I got sick of that and decided that YES, I do love the Spice Girls in a non-ironic way and YES, I still count Something Corporate among my favorite bands and NO, I really don't <i>actually</i> like Taking Back Sunday. Etc.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh and by the way? Yeah. Some radio music is pretty fucking catchy and even really good.</div><div><br /></div><div>So mainstream music? Yeah. Fine. This is me turning in my fake hipster card once and for all.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-14639242693382248662011-06-11T20:35:00.002-04:002011-06-11T22:33:53.402-04:00and so it is, just like you said it would be30 Day Challenge: <i>Things you want to say to an ex</i>.<div><br /></div><div>It's just...</div><div><br /></div><div>I miss you. Not as my boyfriend, but just as you. Being in my life. I miss us as we were, but more than that I miss an us I'm not sure really ever was - I miss us as we could have been, I guess.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's just. It's strange. It's too weird and it's too hard and it's all too far gone but... god I wish there was a way to start over.</div><div><br /></div><div>It sucks knowing there's not a way back from this, and it sucks even more that just when I think I don't care I'm reminded that that's not exactly true - it creeps in without my being able to stop it, which I hate, but there it is.</div><div><br /></div><div>...I could go on, but I'll stop, I think. Honesty was never really my style.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-65837563118429520952011-06-10T18:41:00.004-04:002011-06-10T19:30:51.169-04:00Lifestyles of the not so rich but hopefully soon to be famous<div>...I have to admit, the premise of this, though easy at first, now seems vaguely like the nightly reports I have to send to my boss at work, which is to say mostly unappealing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also I'm cheating, because I definitely won't get to this before the end of my day.</div><div><br /></div><i>30 Day Challenge: Bullet your whole day</i><div><ul><li>Woke up before alarm because it's too damn hot in my room</li><li>Went back to sleep for all of 20 minutes</li><li>Woke up again 20 minutes later even unhappier about the heat</li><li>Showered, dressed, makeup'd</li><li>Bought coffee at deli</li><li>Waited for fucking ever for the select bus</li><li>Arrived late to work because of waiting forever & balls traffic on 2nd ave.</li><li>Worked, waited many tables</li><li>Broke plate at work, cut open finger on aforementioned broken plate</li><li>Worked more</li><li>Learned good news about a friend, was pleased to learn I was actually excited for her rather than pissy and jealous (AHA! maturity! i'm growing some!)</li><li>Finished working, ordered food</li><li>Bus home, ate food</li><li>Reviewed where I was in 30 day challenge, saw this, saw tomorrow's and got a little concerned</li><li>Was annoyed to learn that my cell phone isn't sending texts (wtf, cell phone)</li><li>Short nap</li><li>Drankin/reunion with favorites!</li></ul><div>The end.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>...On second thought, this was slightly less annoying than my nightly reports. On the other hand, it was also a complete waste of my time and that of anybody who read it. Thank you aaaand goodnight.</div>Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2129009639785185315.post-1311282615472190422011-06-09T20:00:00.004-04:002011-06-28T02:58:59.182-04:00what do you read? words, my lord.30 Day Challenge, Day 3: <em>A book you love</em>.<br /><br />Aha! I tricked you with the title. The book ISN'T going to be Hamlet. Though I do love me some Hamlet to a nerdy and somewhat absurd degree. <span style="font-size:85%;">Okay slash I feel that way about all Shakespeare, let's just be honest. (I may or may not have made myself a list of all the Shakespeare plays I've never actually <strong>read</strong> - seeing or being familiar with doesn't count - while at the Globe and made it my project for summer. Errrr I mean I'm really cool).</span><br /><em></em><br />I've strayed. The book in question today is <em>The Great Gatsby.</em><br /><br />Junior year of high school, I believe I deemed this book the only worthwhile thing we read in all of American literature - a lofty generalization, to be sure, but dear Harker - the books you cover in American lit are boring as hell. Just sayin'. Regardless, I loved it. <em>LOVED</em> it. The book came into my life at the right time the way <em>The Catcher in the Rye</em> (which by the way, I hate) finds most 16 year olds. Something about it captured me (and about 90% of Harker juniors before and since).<br /><br />Interestingly, I had a conversation much later (around my 3rd or 4th reading of the book) with a dear friend who <em>hated</em> the book, on the basis that nothing happens. And in the course of this conversation, a third friend asked me to explain the plot and I... couldn't. Because in terms of action, minus the last, say, 30 pages, not a lot <strong>does</strong> happen. Which is interesting, come to think of it, because thinking about it this way <em>Gatsby</em> shouldn't've been a book I loved. I love reading, I really do, but I also get bored unbelievably easily - just ask anybody about my six-month sojourn with <em>Catch-22</em>.<br /><br />But there's just something about it. Even if, sort of, nothing happens. I believe I've read it 5 times now, and I find something new each read. A new sentence to love, a new idea to think about, a new character to sympathize with who I didn't like last time. The book breaks my heart and makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside each time I read it.<br /><br />Hmm. Perhaps I re-read when I finish with <em>Richard III</em>.Siobhanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03555344221226491176noreply@blogger.com0