The contents of my refrigerator: a bag of baby carrots, garlic cloves, frozen ground beef, spicy mustard.
The contents of my pantry: almond flour, some dried banana, honey, a couple of almonds.
The contents of my bank account: $914.60.
The contents of my brain: How am I going to do this?
I feel as though I am staring at a vertical cliff face which I must ascend, and I find myself wondering, "what in the world were you thinking to do this?"
I am trying to stay positive, and to live my life as a celebration of what I do have, as opposed to a funeral about what I do not. It's hard. It's hard to justify spending a sum of money on a degree which could theoretically allow me to comfortably live for at least four years, when I am afraid to go to the grocery store to spend a few bucks on buying something for dinner. It's hard to justify getting all dressed up, hair and makeup and accessories all perfectly placed, and spending time in situations with people who have some money and a steady job and assume you do as well, to smile and to laugh and to appear as though everything in your life is absolutely perfect, when I go home to scour the internet for hours for odd jobs or to cross my fingers that I will be able to teach a yoga class this week to earn some cash. It's hard to justify submitting for role after role, sending out postcard after postcard, and shelling out for new headshots, when I am barely landing an audition a month.
I feel as though I am living in a Steinbeck novel. East of Eden, perhaps Cannery Row. I am picking up my feet and shuffling down a dusty road, watching tumbleweeds or empty coke cups pass by my shoes, sweating to the beat of my hard breathing, and wondering when the wandering, the endlessness, will stop. Wondering when I will be able to not go to Whole Foods just to nibble on free cheese samples and to grab a handful of face cream samples. Wondering when I will be able to enjoy having downtime, instead of frantically searching for the next source of income. Wondering when I will be able to buy a few drinks when I'm out with friends and not just sip on water and say I'm fine.
Uncertainty is most certainly the source of all fear. I am very much ready to stop living in fear, and I am hoping that, some day, I will be able to read this post and to smile, knowing that everything ended up just as it should. I will keep on picking up my feet and trying to enjoy the scenery until then. At least Steinbeck knew that the scenery and the journey, the people, were 80% of the novel. In his dedication, Steinbeck writes to his friend, Pascal Covici, who had asked Steinbeck for a little box to put things in, when he saw Steinbeck carving a figure of wood. He writes:
Well, here's your box. Nearly everything I have is in it, and it is not full. Pain and excitement are in it, and feeling good or bad and evil thoughts and good thoughts - the pleasure of design and some despair and the indescribable joy of creation.
And on top of these are all the gratitude and love I have for you.
And still the box is not full.
-JOHN
'And still the box is not full.' That seems like a good way to look at it all.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
A New Roommate
Just after one o'clock today, my dear friend, Matt Madeiro, arrived at LAX on a sunny, crisp January day in California.
In one word.. win.
We left for my studio apartment - which was actually larger than what Matt had expected, given my warnings of how small it would be for two bodies - and then set out on the grocery run, which entailed stops at Fresh & Easy, Ralph's, and Trader Joe's. A great thing about both shopping with and living with Matt is that he is as much of a health and foodie freak as I am. There are only a few people who I can take to the store with me, to share moments of gawking at macadamia nuts or to discuss the merits of full-fat cheese with in aisle two. These little random moments of health geek glee make me smile. (Dear Veeren, wherever you are, you are still my original grocery shopping buddy; fear not!) We came home with a treasure chest of nutritional deliciousness, featuring such prized booty as turkey sausage, red meat, red grapes, avocados, mozzarella, and even canned sardines in olive oil (which Matt swears by, so I'll give them a shot). It was a joyous shopping bonanza, and I am very much looking forward to getting to make food with someone else regularly. On this note, I'm debating having weekly potlucks at my apartment, just as a chance to catch up with friends and to share wonderful, homemade food. If the way to a man's heart is through his belly, surely friends are similar.
Following our grocery run, we drove to Melrose to eat at this little brunch place I had discovered with Kevin while he was staying with me back in October, called 'Blue Jam Cafe'. Their omelettes had been divine and their ambiance delightfully cozy, and so I was sad when we walked inside to discover the kitchen had just closed. We meandered down a few blocks and found a little Thai spot, where we enjoyed Pad Thai and an Ahi Tuna Salad, before going on our merry way.
After our late lunch, Matt and I practically ran to LA Fitness to catch the 5:45 'Body Sculpt & Abs' class, a class I had never taken, but which I assured Matt was not a cardio-based class. Sure enough, we walk into the group fitness room, and everyone is jumping onto and off of step units. Needless to say, after twenty minutes of cardio and calisthenics, Matt was shooting me some evil looks and occasionally mustering an, "I'm going to kill you". Yet he did it with a smile, so I knew my life wasn't in total danger. It was a decent class, and I always love hitting up the gym with a friend. Matt ended up getting a discounted membership for the next month, after I fought with a representative about having been originally told I could bring guests. Tomorrow we are aiming to try the 7pm 'Cardio Kickboxing' class. Matt has never tried kickboxing but is willing to, so I am crossing my fingers that we get a great class.
We came home from LA Fitness, listened to this delightful little band called 'Pink Martini', as per Matt's recommendations, took our respective showers, made a positively gargantuan salad with chicken for dinner, and then made a late-night dash to Yogurtland. This brings me to now, sleepy and trying to mentally gear up for selling sandwiches for eight hours tomorrow, including a big order for the show 'Family Guy'. But hey, we've all gotta make a living. And it could be McDonald's, let us not forget. So I choose to wear a smile, as I bake chocolate-chip cookies and serve up Chicken Pesto sub sandwiches.
My quote-of-the-day from the calendar Arlie gave to me was, "Today is full of miracles." And indeed, it was.
In one word.. win.
We left for my studio apartment - which was actually larger than what Matt had expected, given my warnings of how small it would be for two bodies - and then set out on the grocery run, which entailed stops at Fresh & Easy, Ralph's, and Trader Joe's. A great thing about both shopping with and living with Matt is that he is as much of a health and foodie freak as I am. There are only a few people who I can take to the store with me, to share moments of gawking at macadamia nuts or to discuss the merits of full-fat cheese with in aisle two. These little random moments of health geek glee make me smile. (Dear Veeren, wherever you are, you are still my original grocery shopping buddy; fear not!) We came home with a treasure chest of nutritional deliciousness, featuring such prized booty as turkey sausage, red meat, red grapes, avocados, mozzarella, and even canned sardines in olive oil (which Matt swears by, so I'll give them a shot). It was a joyous shopping bonanza, and I am very much looking forward to getting to make food with someone else regularly. On this note, I'm debating having weekly potlucks at my apartment, just as a chance to catch up with friends and to share wonderful, homemade food. If the way to a man's heart is through his belly, surely friends are similar.
Following our grocery run, we drove to Melrose to eat at this little brunch place I had discovered with Kevin while he was staying with me back in October, called 'Blue Jam Cafe'. Their omelettes had been divine and their ambiance delightfully cozy, and so I was sad when we walked inside to discover the kitchen had just closed. We meandered down a few blocks and found a little Thai spot, where we enjoyed Pad Thai and an Ahi Tuna Salad, before going on our merry way.
After our late lunch, Matt and I practically ran to LA Fitness to catch the 5:45 'Body Sculpt & Abs' class, a class I had never taken, but which I assured Matt was not a cardio-based class. Sure enough, we walk into the group fitness room, and everyone is jumping onto and off of step units. Needless to say, after twenty minutes of cardio and calisthenics, Matt was shooting me some evil looks and occasionally mustering an, "I'm going to kill you". Yet he did it with a smile, so I knew my life wasn't in total danger. It was a decent class, and I always love hitting up the gym with a friend. Matt ended up getting a discounted membership for the next month, after I fought with a representative about having been originally told I could bring guests. Tomorrow we are aiming to try the 7pm 'Cardio Kickboxing' class. Matt has never tried kickboxing but is willing to, so I am crossing my fingers that we get a great class.
We came home from LA Fitness, listened to this delightful little band called 'Pink Martini', as per Matt's recommendations, took our respective showers, made a positively gargantuan salad with chicken for dinner, and then made a late-night dash to Yogurtland. This brings me to now, sleepy and trying to mentally gear up for selling sandwiches for eight hours tomorrow, including a big order for the show 'Family Guy'. But hey, we've all gotta make a living. And it could be McDonald's, let us not forget. So I choose to wear a smile, as I bake chocolate-chip cookies and serve up Chicken Pesto sub sandwiches.
My quote-of-the-day from the calendar Arlie gave to me was, "Today is full of miracles." And indeed, it was.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Personal Revolution
Friday night, I rang in the New Year with several dear friends at my apartment, where we had delicious food, wine and other alcoholic concoctions (Pumpkin Spice Creamer is not a great match for White Russians, for your future party planning reference), and played a fun game of 'What the Picta..'.
On Saturday, I unknowingly tossed out the skin from a rotisserie chicken while cutting it and putting it on plates for two guy friends and Seb, who were all devastated when they received their plates and found the apparently 'delicious', barbecue-flavored-skin to be missing (I had no idea people actually ate that..).
Yesterday, I worked a full day cashiering at Soda Pop's, made it to the yoga studio for a refreshing class full of dedicated, strong yogis (after a holiday hiatus), then had a lovely evening of Chipotle and of finally watching the much-anticipated INCEPTION with my delightful boyfriend, whose parents arrive from Switzerland in two days to visit. Je ne parle pas le plus bien francais maintenant, mais je peux essayer.
Today, I helped my friend, Donny, out with his new headshot shoot, as his makeup artist, hair-fixer, and shirt ironer, which was lovely, and which also afforded me the opportunity to reconnect with Tim Sabatino, the photographer, who also did my headshots and is headed to India next week to work on a three-month documentary about Buddhism with the Dalai Lama. I mailed out postcards to casting directors for pilot season, then applied to several additional yoga studios and fitness clubs for yoga (and spinning) teaching positions and took a nap, after collapsing on top of my keyboard.
Tonight, I find myself with less than fourty-eight hours until my dear friend and blogging buddy, Matt, whom I have been close friends with since the age of nine, arrives in Los Angeles and becomes my roommate, in my teensy studio apartment, with only one closet, a mini-fridge, no microwave, washer, or dryer, and no cable.
I have lots of cleaning to do before Matt arrives. There are dishes with crusty, baked Ziti begging to be washed, laundry bags heaving with hope for a trip to the laundromat, floors craving a good Swiffer run, and then some. I am desperately trying to relearn drink recipes for my new bartending job later this month; I am teaching a yoga class and a cardio class tomorrow, as well as Friday; I am working at Soda Pop's two other days this week; I am trying to advertise my yoga with new postcards (which entails driving around to Whole Foods locations and such); I am planning a dancing outing for Thursday night, a yoga class with a post-yoga hike and picnic for Saturday, and a week-long roadtrip for March; I am trying to think of creative ways to make rent by January 16th.
Obviously, I am quite adept at staying busy, yet sometimes I feel as though I lose sight of my goals in all of the running around. Goals are an important thing to have. Otherwise, it's like Orienteering - which I was god-awful at - without a compass, and we all know how frustrating that is.
This afternoon, I wrote an email to my donation-based Power Yoga group, which now consists of a whopping seventy-seven members, yet fluctuates between three and eight people on any given weekend. This statistic would indicate that, if my math is correct (cross your fingers), only 6.5% of those who have expressed an interest in attending yoga have done so. When people join the group, they are prompted to explain why they practice yoga, as it interests me to find out where my students come to the practice from and helps me tailor a class for all needs. The reasons for practicing yoga are complex and admirable, and just a few of them include:
"I'm training for my 2nd marathon and realize that I should have incorporated much more yoga into my training the first time around."
"To unwind and work on keeping my body in shape in a way that doesn't put too much stress on my joints."
"For both the spiritual and physical benefits."
"It helps me relax and feel less anxious. It also allows me to appreciate the small things in life."
"Would like to gain more flexibility and strength."
Given such powerful reasons for change, why have only 6.5% stuck to their goals? We are all guilty of setting aside enough time to deal with bills, with work, with laundry, with the tasks which seem so very important, so 'life-and-death'. But do we truly focus on the life part of that equation? How fully are we living on a day-to-day basis?
"Forget your resolutions.. it's time for your REVOLUTION.
With 2011 here, a lot of us are taking some time to reevaluate what we spend our valuable time and energy on. Are you taking time to focus on your body, your spirit, and your mind? As we set new intentions for the year ahead, making a consistent yoga practice [or other meaningful activity] a part of your life can help recharge that battery and can truly propel you into the potential you were meant to inhabit.
This Saturday will be our first practice of 2011, and we'll be sweating out the kinks and clutter from yesterday to grow fresh space for this incredible new year. Think of it as a complete head-to-toe pampering package, as a belated holiday gift to yourself (why on earth would you miss out on that each week?!).
If you've been a member of this group forever and haven't been yet, make up your mind to get your feet out the door. If you've been before, make up your mind to invite a friend, or to say hi to the newbie. Take action to promote your own inner peace.
If you commit to making yourself a happier, healthier person, you commit to making the world a happier, healthier place to exist. It's here, people; steep yourself in the joy and the freedom of personal revolution."
This was my letter to my seventy-seven aspiring yogis, and, perhaps on a closer level, to myself. This is only the beginning, as is every single day I wake up, open my eyes, and take that first inhale of consciousness. My revolution of 2011 centers around my self, in the following ways:
*I will make time each day for my body to be active, and I will also make time for my body to be still. This means making time for fitness each day, and also adequate time for sleep and for reflection.
*I will fuel my belly with food which nurtures my physical world, my mind with ideas which nurture my creative capacities, and my soul with love which extends to every bit of my universe. This means taking advantage of living with such a healthy friend, and considering what I eat and where it comes from. This means reading, watching television and movies, and getting together with other people to generate our own material (just because we're not 'working' actors, writers, directors, et cetera doesn't mean we stop being those things). This means loving myself for who I am, and loving others for who they are; this means rejoicing in the inherent goodness in each other.
*I will remember that, in any given moment, I have the choice to project either love or hate. I will turn every experience into an opportunity for good. This means standing up for myself and for those around me in a constructive manner, and recognizing the ability to make a situation into something positive. This means finding resilience and continued exuberance and trusting that every turn in the road is a lesson I will have learned in time, which better equips me as an artist and as a person.
The revolution begins.
On Saturday, I unknowingly tossed out the skin from a rotisserie chicken while cutting it and putting it on plates for two guy friends and Seb, who were all devastated when they received their plates and found the apparently 'delicious', barbecue-flavored-skin to be missing (I had no idea people actually ate that..).
Yesterday, I worked a full day cashiering at Soda Pop's, made it to the yoga studio for a refreshing class full of dedicated, strong yogis (after a holiday hiatus), then had a lovely evening of Chipotle and of finally watching the much-anticipated INCEPTION with my delightful boyfriend, whose parents arrive from Switzerland in two days to visit. Je ne parle pas le plus bien francais maintenant, mais je peux essayer.
Today, I helped my friend, Donny, out with his new headshot shoot, as his makeup artist, hair-fixer, and shirt ironer, which was lovely, and which also afforded me the opportunity to reconnect with Tim Sabatino, the photographer, who also did my headshots and is headed to India next week to work on a three-month documentary about Buddhism with the Dalai Lama. I mailed out postcards to casting directors for pilot season, then applied to several additional yoga studios and fitness clubs for yoga (and spinning) teaching positions and took a nap, after collapsing on top of my keyboard.
Tonight, I find myself with less than fourty-eight hours until my dear friend and blogging buddy, Matt, whom I have been close friends with since the age of nine, arrives in Los Angeles and becomes my roommate, in my teensy studio apartment, with only one closet, a mini-fridge, no microwave, washer, or dryer, and no cable.
I have lots of cleaning to do before Matt arrives. There are dishes with crusty, baked Ziti begging to be washed, laundry bags heaving with hope for a trip to the laundromat, floors craving a good Swiffer run, and then some. I am desperately trying to relearn drink recipes for my new bartending job later this month; I am teaching a yoga class and a cardio class tomorrow, as well as Friday; I am working at Soda Pop's two other days this week; I am trying to advertise my yoga with new postcards (which entails driving around to Whole Foods locations and such); I am planning a dancing outing for Thursday night, a yoga class with a post-yoga hike and picnic for Saturday, and a week-long roadtrip for March; I am trying to think of creative ways to make rent by January 16th.
Obviously, I am quite adept at staying busy, yet sometimes I feel as though I lose sight of my goals in all of the running around. Goals are an important thing to have. Otherwise, it's like Orienteering - which I was god-awful at - without a compass, and we all know how frustrating that is.
This afternoon, I wrote an email to my donation-based Power Yoga group, which now consists of a whopping seventy-seven members, yet fluctuates between three and eight people on any given weekend. This statistic would indicate that, if my math is correct (cross your fingers), only 6.5% of those who have expressed an interest in attending yoga have done so. When people join the group, they are prompted to explain why they practice yoga, as it interests me to find out where my students come to the practice from and helps me tailor a class for all needs. The reasons for practicing yoga are complex and admirable, and just a few of them include:
"I'm training for my 2nd marathon and realize that I should have incorporated much more yoga into my training the first time around."
"To unwind and work on keeping my body in shape in a way that doesn't put too much stress on my joints."
"For both the spiritual and physical benefits."
"It helps me relax and feel less anxious. It also allows me to appreciate the small things in life."
"Would like to gain more flexibility and strength."
Given such powerful reasons for change, why have only 6.5% stuck to their goals? We are all guilty of setting aside enough time to deal with bills, with work, with laundry, with the tasks which seem so very important, so 'life-and-death'. But do we truly focus on the life part of that equation? How fully are we living on a day-to-day basis?
"Forget your resolutions.. it's time for your REVOLUTION.
With 2011 here, a lot of us are taking some time to reevaluate what we spend our valuable time and energy on. Are you taking time to focus on your body, your spirit, and your mind? As we set new intentions for the year ahead, making a consistent yoga practice [or other meaningful activity] a part of your life can help recharge that battery and can truly propel you into the potential you were meant to inhabit.
This Saturday will be our first practice of 2011, and we'll be sweating out the kinks and clutter from yesterday to grow fresh space for this incredible new year. Think of it as a complete head-to-toe pampering package, as a belated holiday gift to yourself (why on earth would you miss out on that each week?!).
If you've been a member of this group forever and haven't been yet, make up your mind to get your feet out the door. If you've been before, make up your mind to invite a friend, or to say hi to the newbie. Take action to promote your own inner peace.
If you commit to making yourself a happier, healthier person, you commit to making the world a happier, healthier place to exist. It's here, people; steep yourself in the joy and the freedom of personal revolution."
This was my letter to my seventy-seven aspiring yogis, and, perhaps on a closer level, to myself. This is only the beginning, as is every single day I wake up, open my eyes, and take that first inhale of consciousness. My revolution of 2011 centers around my self, in the following ways:
*I will make time each day for my body to be active, and I will also make time for my body to be still. This means making time for fitness each day, and also adequate time for sleep and for reflection.
*I will fuel my belly with food which nurtures my physical world, my mind with ideas which nurture my creative capacities, and my soul with love which extends to every bit of my universe. This means taking advantage of living with such a healthy friend, and considering what I eat and where it comes from. This means reading, watching television and movies, and getting together with other people to generate our own material (just because we're not 'working' actors, writers, directors, et cetera doesn't mean we stop being those things). This means loving myself for who I am, and loving others for who they are; this means rejoicing in the inherent goodness in each other.
*I will remember that, in any given moment, I have the choice to project either love or hate. I will turn every experience into an opportunity for good. This means standing up for myself and for those around me in a constructive manner, and recognizing the ability to make a situation into something positive. This means finding resilience and continued exuberance and trusting that every turn in the road is a lesson I will have learned in time, which better equips me as an artist and as a person.
The revolution begins.
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