THIS MORNING I REALIZED I HAVE NOT ONE NOT TWO BUT FIVE BLUE AND WHITE STRIPED SHIRTS. OBVIOUSLY I LAID THEM ALL OUT ON MY BED TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THEM TO MAKE FUN OF MYSELF LATER.
AS I TOOK THE PICTURE, I RECEIVED THIS PROMOTIONAL EMAIL FROM WILLIAMS AND SONOMA:
WHAT DOES IT MEAN
AM I BEING WATCHED
WHAT AM I BEING TOLD TO DO
PROBABLY JUST BUY MORE BLUE AND WHITE SHIRTS
OKAY FINE RUSSIA WILL DO, BYE
After years of resistance, I finally gave in yesterday and tried my first meditation class. I’ve been resisting it because 1.) I do not like to sit still b.) I do not want to be a person who says things like, yesterday I tried my first meditation class. But while in Thailand and Hong Kong, I kept hearing about it and witnessing it, and then once home, my friend Alexis, who has a kindred spirit rapid fire brain, told me she’d started it and that it had completely changed her relationship to her own life — so I was like, FINE. Lord knows I can stand to quiet my head. It was a simple, intro, 30 minute class, and while the teacher kept telling us that we were trees (and also, I’ll admit, some pretty helpful stuff about what it is to be alive, the simplicity of that) I tried very, very hard to sit STILL, and to not judge my own thoughts, or the moments themselves. My thoughts were something like okay is it working I think maybe it’s working okay let me listen to what he’s saying and try and remember it wait what did he just say I already forgot I should really be writing this down okay maybe I’ll just breathe and pretend I am a tree did he say tree or maybe he said flower okay this is not working but I’m breathing and I think I’m still, am I still? Morrison would like this he would be so much better at this than me maybe I should bring him to a class we could do it together and maybe we could get tacos where are tacos what kind of tacos what kind of tortillas tacos hmmm I AM A TREE I AM A TREE. I’m going to take the fact that I basically sat still for 30 minutes as an accomplishment, and try a few more times. I think I see value in finding a way to transcend the whir of my thoughts, and just Be, not ten minutes ahead or two hours behind, just simply where I am, alive, and grateful for it.
Say what you want about Obama, about what he was actually able to accomplish during his eight years, about how he handled the economy and healthcare, about what he did to taxes, say all of those things, make an angry list, shout them at your television or into your bank account, but at least acknowledge this: while our new president conducts his first press conference like a shareholder meeting, and its contents could basically be boiled down into ‘Nanny nanny boo boo,’ pointing fingers and shifting blame and hiding behind arbitrary stacks of paper arranged carefully so as to scream meaning like the set of high school play, Obama was, and is, a unifier. Last night, he challenged all of us, liberal, conservative, in-between, to stop searching our feeds for information that affirms our own beliefs, but to seek facts. He asked us to consider each other’s points of view, and above all else, to remember our humanity. OH RIGHT, THAT.
Today, on the inside of my head is a Party City during a blowout Sale: I worry about basically everything all of the time, but there is usually one thing at the forefront of my worry that is taking up the most space. It’s usually something fairly irrational based off of imagined scenarios. Usually, at some point, this thing turns out to be completely unfounded, and I no longer have to worry about it, and so I move onto the next thing in line. I do not even pause to celebrate the fact that the thing I’ve been worrying about is actually totally okay. Why spend so much time worrying about something if I’m not even going to take a moment of PHEW! THAT THING IS FINE! I hereby vow NOT to stop worrying, because that would actually require me having part of my brain removed, but instead — when a worry gets resolved, I will have a little worry party in my head, in which I close my eyes and enjoy the tiniest moment of peace. THEN OF COURSE MOVE ON TO TSUNAMI’s.
WHAT’S THAT YOU SAY? ANOTHER MASS SHOOTING, INNOCENT PEOPLE DEAD FOR NO REASON, THIS TIME IN THE BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA OF AN AIRPORT WHICH HAS DEFINITELY CROSSED YOUR MIND WHEN TRAVELING, HOW VERY NOT SECURE THOSE AREAS ARE? I’LL JUST LOOK AT PICTURES OF THE TINY CHICKEN POT PIES I ATE IN HONG KONG INSTEAD
There’s a thing going around instagram, Best 9, in which people post a grid of their best nine pictures from 2016, summing up a year in their lives. Whenever everyone is doing something it kind of makes me not want to do it, as I am no sheep, by which I mean BAAAAAAAA I’LL JUST DO IT HERE INSTEAD but with 24 pictures because I LIVE MY OWN LIFE (IN GRIDS.) And so with no further ado, it has been a magnificent year! I:
Ate that chicken pot pie in a blizzard, wrote for American Gods, had a beautiful production of my Heaven play at South Coast Rep, found the perfect overalls and wore them approximately 170 times, washed them about 3 times, took a surfing lesson with Elizabeth, had a Dewey’s pink lemonade cake to call my own at my Easter pot luck thanks to my Mom, ran a 5K with a little girl Monet who ate gummy savers the whole way thanks to Blaine, celebrated 2 years with Mo at Red Lobster, patroned Ru Paul’s drag con, got after that no speaking above a whisper resort life in Joshua Tree, spent some time writing at Space on Ryder farm in upstate New York, went to Carrie’s Beyonce themed beybe shower (then later welcomed and met her dear little Sebastian who I am now calling Bash / 2017 let’s see if we can get that going), and then also:
Had the most perfect of bridal showers complete with hats and tiny sandwiches, spun for 3 hours in YAS-a-thon for cancer research, made Ina Garten’s flag cake, welcomed little nephew Mojo, worked on The Cake at the Alliance, Echo and Ojai, did Vegas so hard bachelorette style, tried on a bunch of white dresses / picked one had a bunch dress fittings / obsessed over its details and its accessories namely did I ever mentioned that Ferris Bueller cropped leather coat? / GOT MARRIED / cast my vote for a woman president for the first time, attended Blaine and Jason’s non baby shower baby shower, read Vivian Howard’s incredible cookbook, and started writing for This is Us. And so, a great many things.
Last week I started to have dreams that I was left out of something creative, being mocked for output or performance. Personal favorite: I dreamt I had to play a drunk dog onstage and the reviews were terrible (this dream brought to you by the first night in Hong Kong, surrounded by every stimulus possible.) I think the dreams stem from a feeling that I haven’t accomplished enough creatively this year, like I haven’t dug enough into my own heart / brain. I’ve been working, yes, but I feel, in general, sort of uninspired, like the questioning part of my brain has been numbed. It’s most likely because the majority of all extra time and emotional brainspace I had went to wedding planning. And so, I will forgive myself, hope that 2017 brings characters / moments / stories / questions, big new ideas, but ALSO, more cakes / adult onesies / trips / love, FOR BALANCE.
Posted in MAWWAGE., TV, YAY, a lot, life, love, memories, oh nooo, optimism, silly, the future, the whole world, the writing of drama plays, theater, things, things that I Have, tout, trying too hard, what I'm wearing, whining, words, working, worrying | No Comments »
LET’S JUST SAY COMPLETELY HYPOTHETICAL FOR EXAMPLE THAT YOU’RE GOING ON YOUR HONEYMOON WHICH ONLY HAPPENS ONCE IN YOUR LIFE AND YOU PLANNED IT MONTHS AGO AND NOW SUDDENLY TIME HAS MOVED AND YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE TONIGHT. And maybe you just realized a few weeks ago that your destination of choice, Bali, is in fact enduring its ‘wet season’ during your visit month of choice, and then maybe you look at the forecast seconds before you leave and discover that it’s basically going to look like this the entire time:
And you feel dumb. You also feel disappointed. BUT ALSO YOU FEEL RESOURCEFUL. Also you know how to use the internet. Also you have a husband who is patient and less neurotic, and also you’ve been paid handsomely for your work, as of late. WHY BE PAID HANDSOMELY, IF AT ALL, IF YOU DON’T EVERY NOW AND THEN, LIGHT A LITTLE BIT OF IT ON FIRE TO LAST MINUTE CHANGE YOUR TRIP TO THIS INSTEAD?
PS, we’re off to Hua Hin, Thailand, instead, BECAUSE B.
Posted in I hate money, MAWWAGE., YAY, a lot, ha, hmmmmm, holidays, how interesting, i am lucky, i am scared, i have peace, love, silly, the future, the whole world, whining, working, worrying | No Comments »
Why is this so normal now? Yesterday, when a young Muslim man at Ohio State rammed his car into Pedestrians then started slashing at them with a knife, until the cops shot and killed him — the whole country went ….Meh. You could feel it. Well first maybe a Phew. Then a solid….Meh. The above picture really chills me. Oh, terrorist attack, potential shooter, okay cool, stack the chairs and barricade the door, check texts. Stay calm. Oh, he’s dead? Okay cool.
An already irate group of theater people got to get EVEN MORE IRATER Friday night when Pence attended Hamilton. He was briefly booed by the audience, but was then given a kind and gracious message by the cast, asking that he, as VP, serve the country’s people. TRUMP THEN TOOK TO TWITTER SCOLDING THE ACTORS, DECLARING THAT THE THEATER IS A SAFE PLACE AND SHAME ON THEM FOR MAKING IT NOT SO. I would like to issue my two prong response that is now surely being felt in every actor and director and playwright there ever was.
1.) SAFE PLACE? OH, BY WHICH YOU MEAN, UNLIKE AMERICA NOW FOR MILLIONS OF PEOPLE, WHO WILL NOW LIVE IN FEAR, YOU BIG DUMMY? YOU WALKED RIGHT INTO THAT ONE JUST AS YOU DO YOUR HAIR EVERY MORNING AS YOU PEEL YOURSELF FROM THE ABSURDIST COLORING BOOK AND STEP INTO YOUR HAIR
2.) I keep mulling over this idea that the theater is a ‘safe place.’ I mean, is it? I mean, sure. Yes. It’s a place where people are meant to come together and hear stories. But also, it’s a place bravery and exploration of difficult ideas. That’s what it should be, especially now. I say we strive to make the theater less safe. Less and less and less until he finds himself in a Box seat and cannot look away. He is forced to see.