connection

I love this line I read in a recent NPR piece. While the line is particularly about how one views a film or any creative end, the thought so easily translates to any part of connecting with someone or something you care about.

 "'It's up to the individual viewer to decide to connect or not connect with a creative work. By 'connect,' I mean connect emotionally and imaginatively — giving yourself to the movie for as long as you can, and trying to see the world through its eyes and feel things on its wavelength.'"

 Perhaps I'm projecting, but I don't think this notion is without merit. But, I suppose once you decide not to connect, or realize you didn't mean to not connect, the "as long as you can" is in full view, and you've finished with it without even knowing it.

List Maker

Periodically when I need to put things into perspective I make a “5 Things I Love” list.

I love making lists. I'm a list maker. It makes me prioritize.

I have to decide what’s important, what’s not, and how exactly I’ll fit it in. Sometimes when you’re so busy, it can feel like my life’s a puzzle, and I’ve just got to make it work. I love crossing off as I go what it is I’ve accomplished, then going forward on and down my list. This sense of OCD peeps into other things, like organizing my closet or rearranging my earrings, but there’s nothing that feels as  accomplished as crossing off the last thing I need to buy a family member for Christmas, or even looking back on all of these “I Love” lists, and seeing how I’ve grown and changed or how I’ve stayed the same, and that’s fine too. It’s like a reflection of who I was then, and who I am now, and I love it.

I once made a list of 5 Things I Loved comprised of the names of my 5 siblings. I said it was in no particular order, but subconsciously who knows. When I was little I made lists to help me figure out what my schedule was for the next day, a list of what I would be wearing, laid out on the floor next to my bed, a list of classes I was in, a list of my friends, a list of my dreams, a list of rules for my room. I’m a list maker by nature.

And, hopefully, as I look back on all of these lists, I won't feel like I do right now. I'll feel like I have a purpose. There's life in the details. That's where it lives.

OCD

"Obsessive Comparison Disorder is the smallpox of our generation. 9 out of 10 doctor’s agree this disorder is the leading cause to eating a whole sleeve of Oreo’s while watching Real Housewives of OC. Say no to obsessive comparison disorder before it starts. Remember everyone’s too busy putting a PR spin on their Facebook profile to care much about yours." -AllGroanUp.com

Thank God someone finally said it. Three or four weeks ago I made note on Facebook that I would be stepping away from it for a bit. Nice try, self. I think I stepped away for maybe four hours. 

It's a sickness. 

keep coming back for more.

I kept thinking I was missing out on something — visions of whatever the life equivalent of sugarplums are, were busting into my brain. What if I missed an important message from someone who didn't have my phone number or from someone I don't run into regularly? What if I miss out on an opportunity? What if this happens, or that, or that other thing? Or I just forget about something?

And status updates. The very word "Status" carries with it this loathsome notion that we're either high status or low status. You either post a million times a day about how much you and your partner love each other, or you keep writing the same "I hate [Fill in the blank]." It's a rough cycle, addictive, and pretty unhealthy.

In an attempt to become less comparidependent, and Facebook makes it impossible to just turn off your NewsFeed Comparison Log — I've taken the worst offenders of those that make it seem like I can't ever do enough, and just blocked their updates. And, if you're fucked up addicted to this Social Network cocaine, do the same. Like a little boycott. Because it's true, "everyone [is] too busy putting a PR spin on their Facebook profile to care much about [mine]."

It's too bad that it's the best way to actually reach someone, though. Gotta keep coming back for more.

Five things.

Five things I love:
1. Biking
2. Independence
3. Being asked to join
4. Dancing
5. Doing weird voices and listening to others do the same

Five things I want to do this year:
1. Try out some solo material
2. Write a 2-person lady show with Carly
3. Hang up all the prints I have
4. Walk down the stairs in under 10 minutes
5. Get a commercial

Five places I want to travel to:
1. Prague
2. Portugal
3. Hungary
4. Japan
5. Ireland

Five things that make me happiest:
1. Flowers
2. Unsolicited help
3. When Tim laughs
4. The crowd after a solid show
5. The Grrr on Sunday morning

Five things I take for granted:
1. Walking
2. My car
3. Fresh air
4. Money in my checking account
5. Friends with free time

life

you know what? fuck you.

Miss Adventures

More like missed adventures. There's this idea that we all have to be doing everything all the time, and if you're not busy, you're doing nothing. And if you're doing nothing, then you are a waste of time, space, talent, etc. But, sometimes. Just sometimes. Sometimes you need to just chill the eff out. And that can be an adventure all on its own. It's the best when the unexpected happens and you're brought to this precipice where you didn't ever think you'd be there, but there you are. Standing on the edge of something great.


Coming from someone who rarely takes a break, that I'm even writing this should mean more to you, reader.


Taking a step back, not just to evaluate, or reflect, but just to be someone who doesn't have to be anywhere for a little while, isn't doing nothing. It is. But it isn't. 


"Take a break occasionally. From it all. For perspective, sanity, life. You and what you bring to the stage will benefit from your actual life experience. My own life has been a series of wonderful hobbies." 
-Mick Napier, in a newsletter that I liked when I read it. And a lot of other people liked it too.

Hip. Hip.

We're all children

People are living too long. I say this a lot. It infuriates my mother, standing behind me, arms crossed commanding that I take back the notion that I want to kill my grandmother. I don't want to do this. Knock off grandma, that is. But, there's something really wrong with our world that we're so afraid of death, and we do anything we can to keep living. We keep people on life support. We take countless drugs. We write stories and create legacies in the hope that this something gold might stay.

Our obsession with death and it's counterpart life makes it impossible to just live. There's no sense of carefree, because we're so worried that we're not going to make the best of our situation. We're scared that what we decide to do with our time won't end up being worthy. And then, we end up doing nothing. Only to take stock as our quarter-life, mid-life and end of days crisis come. And they will come. I know, I've already had one. You probably have too. Every time I log onto Facebook I have a conniption. I compare endlessly, spending all together too many minutes reading my newsfeed. It gives the impression that someone is always doing something better or just something and I'm not.

In so many ways 25 now isn't what it was in 1978 when my parents got married. If you inspect it beneath the microscope, 25 is much older because everything is happening so much faster, while simultaneously it's also so young. We're children. As people live lengthy lives, shouldn't we have more time to establish ourselves? And why are there so many holds on when it's appropriate to be established? It's a long race. Don't want to finish too soon, now do we?