My Yearly Fringe Post: 2013

I didn't write in July, Blog. I didn't do it. It's the first whole month I've missed blogging-wise in several years. I'm sure your Blog-heart is broken, as I know mine is. There's only one way to come back from the tragedy, Blog. It's time for my yearly Fringe post.

What's my yearly Fringe post, you ask? Why, you can take a look at what I had to say last year to get an idea. Basically I've fallen into this habit where every August I express my complex and conflicted feelings about the Minnesota Fringe Festival to my one and only Blog, Blog. That's you. Never forget it.

Fringe has to do with theatre and theatre, unfortunately (fortunately?), is the one thing in this world that I love to do. Ever since I was cast as a cow in the Missoula Children's Theatre production of Beauty and the Beast when I was 7 years old, I have been in love with, and a slave to the performing arts. Because of this, the Minnesota Fringe Festival  is both my best friend and my worst enemy. It provides me with the most straightforward opportunity to participate within the vibrant theatre and performing arts community that lives in Minneapolis. And the reason I love living in Minneapolis is because of that vibrant theatre and performing arts community's presence. I want to be in you, vibrant theatre and performing arts community. Luckily the Fringe Festival allows me to penetrate you without the aid of cheesy pick up lines or date rape drugs. We can just exist together and share our love and art and a beer together at The Crooked Pint after 11 o'clock on any given night come the first two weeks of August.

And the first week of those two weeks is just like the start of any relationship. It's new and exciting. It's blissful and carefree. We've opened our show! Everyone remembered their lines! My friends loved it! I've gotten a chance to make myself completely vulnerable by exposing my heart and feelings and abilities on a stage in front of an audience and it's all been accepted! I don't see any sort of an end to this huge success! I'm living in a dream that has only four performances left and you'd better buy your ticket now so you can live this incredible fantasy with me!

Then the halfway point of the festival hits and shit starts getting real. Real real, yo. You get a review like this one and don't know what to do with yourself. Your initial reaction is one of rage which then develops into defeat. "I'll never do theatre again," you say to yourself. "This is my last Fringe," you decide. "I guess I should get to slitting my wrists now since that's the only viable response to this entire situation," you reason.

A good night's sleep later, you realize that everyone is entitled to their opinion and that bad reviews, even scathing ones that seem to almost personally attack you and/or others within your production, are a means to build character and even improve the art that both nurtures and dominates you. "Who cares what they think?" you declare. "I'm just as worthy of being a part of this festival as they are!" You know it's true. At least you keep telling that to yourself in order to prevent the blade from slicing the translucent skin covering your vulnerable wri--err--feelings and emotions and stuff.

Here's the ridiculous part: after all the emotional turmoil that comes with your beating heart being slashed to bits in a public arena for all to see, you want to do it again. You completely and wholly intend on submitting your application next January. You know you'll be heartbroken and disappointed if your number isn't drawn. You already know in what direction you'll take things if it is. We are slaves to this sick and wonderful thing. Year after year after year. We love it and we hate it but for some reason we can't live without it and fortunately (unfortunately?) we have realized that and have managed to produce one of the most prominent Fringe Festivals in the country.

Thanks vibrant theatre and performing arts community of Minneapolis. You're one of a kind and I'm both sad and relieved that this version of our summer camp is coming to an end in just a few days.

Here's to next year! (and my number being drawn, because it has yet to be)

Weird Sleep

Blog, I am unnerved as to the time at which I got out of bed today. I'm no early-riser; I never have been. 10 am is a perfectly acceptable time to start the day in my opinion. But this morning when I rolled over to see what the damage was to this cool and cloudy weekday, I was shocked to learn that it was no longer morning. It was 1:45.

"Where's the other 1?", I groggily thought to myself, thinking that it surely must at least be before noon. It wasn't.

I wasn't drunk last night. I wasn't up incredibly late to where it would make sense to sleep well into the afternoon. By my calculations, I got a solid twelve hours in. That's weird, Blog. I don't sleep for eras of time.

I think this weird sleep marathon I accidently took part in had something to do with the weird actor's nightmare I was having for what seems like a decade. I won't get into details, because I fear becoming a dream rambler, but the responsibility of sharing the role of Macbeth with two other actors paired with the frustration of my script being halfway made up of baby clothes kept me focused on  thinking I could solve the dilemma of getting the lines into my eyesight, when really the witches just kept on with their scene without paying any heed to the fact that one of the leads hadn't memorized her lines due to them being made out of fleece.

Gross. I hate dreams.

Despite the wasted day and awful dream-explaining I just did, this week started out with me feeling very depressed and alone and has somehow blossomed into a generator of opportunities. I've had some nice theatre and acting breakthroughs. I saw good friends and played lots of music. And starting tomorrow, I'll be hanging out with a giant dog named Duncan. I'm still poor and it's cold in my apartment and I could use another job and a regular sleep schedule, but it's all ok. At least I'm not living that stupid nightmare where I'm playing the role of Macbeth. Plus the plethora of time at my disposal has allowed me to master this nonsense because I do whatever Kerin tells me to do.

So I'm going to do that and probably drink some wine so I can tucker myself out after a whole 8 hours of being functional today. Slow it down Veldhouse, you over-achiever, you.

Why I Put On a Bunch of Makeup and a Corset

Well Blog, with the stress of unemployment comes the loss of appetite and with the loss of appetite comes the ability to stuff my girlish figure into a corset. (See figure A)

Figure A. As in "Awkward stress girl tries her hand at being sexy."

Also I've found that stuffing my girlish figure into a corset is one way I can spend the myriad of time I have at my disposal. Other ways to consume this time include but are not limited to: dancing to the same song over and over again, being referred to as a "circus freak", nearly breaking my ankle in 5 inch heals, and taking dramatic and grainy pictures of my face. (See figure B)

Figure B. As in "Be afraid of me. Please. No? Ok."

In other words, I spent last night spontaneously being a part of a music video for local band El Le Faunt thanks to my roommate Kirsten. I met some cool people and learned that there are such things as sousaphone miracles in this world. (See figure C)

 

Figure C. As in "See? I told you flames could come out of sousaphone bells. Yes, bells.

Don't worry Blog. Me feeling up that sousaphone was totally a part of my contribution to the music video. I'm excited to see how it turns out.

Thousands of Miles Later...

Blog, it's been way too long. Over a month in fact. Sometimes when I become busy, I get overwhelmed with the thought of documenting every detail of what I've been up to and then I avoid you. And then I realize that I've continued to be busy while avoiding you and this makes me avoid you even more because the amount of things to document has reached a staggering amount and the thought of it all is too much to bear.

But in the end, it's you and me Blog, documenting life. So here's what the last month has held for me:

1. North Dakota

At the end of March I boarded the Empire Builder and one Benedryl and a thermos of wine later, I was groggily coming to at the outskirts of the one Magic City (or what is more commonly known as Minot). I was making the trip just in time to wish my awesome sister in law farewell as she deployed to Guam the day before Easter. Because of this, we used the limited time we had before her departure to teach my niece about who the Easter Bunny is and then immediately demonstrate what the Easter Bunny does. I think she was excited only because every adult in the household was running around like a crazy, pointing out brightly colored pieces of plastic and gorging themselves on jelly beans. I learned we do this to ourselves. Also, Easter candy is the best candy hands down.

She's only smiling because we told her that egg was the secret to happiness once she recovered it from an imaginary rabbit.

 

I'd go into the saga of removing my car from the snow bank that consumed it in the month of March, but it's a long story, so I'll just say that a man named Tracey and a couple of violent tows from his pick up brought my 1997 luxury sedan to freedom in just minutes. Yay for small towns and stuff.


2. Chicago

I returned to Minneapolis and spent a few days rehearsing for the NTC tour I'm currently on (skip to #4 for details). After a few glorious nights in my very own bed, the band I'm in packed its lead singer, bassist, and myself into one of those boxy Scions (complete with a stand up bass we've named Bud) and drove to Chicago to play a couple gigs over the weekend. I felt a little famous when Courtney coordinated her contacts in such a way where we got an amazing free dinner at a hip Italian place downtown only to rush away to play our glamorous songs for the tens of fans that were waiting for us at the bluegrass bar where we were booked. On Sunday night we partook in a comedy show put on by the hilarious and wonderful Puterbaugh Sisterz that turned out to be just plain weird with drunk lesbians and catty comics. I ate some homemade bars that Courtney's friend brought out though, so everything ended up a-ok.

What is going oooooooon with this comedy shooooooow? Ahhhh!

3. Mexico

We returned from Chicago with just enough time for me to do my taxes, shower, and pack for Mexico. Court and I were playing at the Akumal Comedy Festival in Akumal, Mexico the week following our adventure in Chicago. I had absolutely no idea what to expect from this, and frankly when I got home that evening, I didn't even feel like catching a red eye flight to Cancun. But of course, I went and ended up having one of the most amazing times of my life. I've been to Mexico before, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was the perfect blend of business and vacation. We were busy but relaxed and we met some of the most wonderful people ever in the world. We played shows with tropical breezes in our hair and palm trees above us. We drank margaritas and swam in a turquoise sea. We made new friends and lived in luxury. I want to go back and have been going through Mexico withdrawal ever since I returned a week and a half ago.



All I had was the sea and a sunburn, Blog. Thanks to Courtney for capturing the temporary bliss.

But alas, I live in a frozen tundra... when I'm there. When I'm not, I'm on the east coast apparently. Which brings me to...

4. Philadelphia

Ok, so technically it's Bellmawr, New Jersey, WHICH I'M TOTALLY AWARE OF IT NOT BEING THE SAME THING AS PHILADELPHIA. But, I do go to Philadelphia every day to perform questionable short-form improv sketch comedy for high schoolers even though the show we've got is written for middle schoolers, but really who's paying attention to our age demographic? Not me. I've been laying low since I've been here. Mostly because things cost money, but also because I'm tired. It's time to be home and I'm still not there. I'm not sure if I was looking for a life of travel when I quit Capella, but now that I've spent the last month living it, I've found that while it's fun and exciting and different, it's also like anything else and can get old. Where is my bed? It is not here in this seedy Super 8 with an Indian man who stands in your way and interrogates you about what dairy products you're about to put in your coffee at the continental breakfast. My bed is in a cold room in an apartment that all my friends think is haunted that is adjacent to a building occupied with Mexicans. That's home, Blog.

But until home happens, I'll continue to wear this wig and contemplate if cutting off my hair and dying it grey is a good idea.

A List Now That I'm Back

Blog, I've been absent since I've gotten back to the Northland. The sudden familiarity of home combined with my dedication to Bash have made for a writer's block when it comes to spilling my thoughts to the internet. I'm still feeling stuck, but I want to do what I can to dish, so a list it is...

1. Being back has been great, though odd since I don't have a job. The plethora of time at my disposal has allowed me to become somewhat organized in things like money and laundry. I feel productive but also directionless. I can't tell if I"m enjoying it or not.

2. Bash has been going incredibly well. It's a good show that is worth seeing. If you can make it all the way out to Chanhassen to spend the ten dollars it costs to get into the theatre, you won't be disappointed. I say this in confidence. I'm not sure if it's because I believe in my performance or if it's because this show is actually super interesting once you get to know it. There are three "plays" separate from one another, yet tied together with novel little nuggets that one would hope to get out of being an audience member. Since I'm rather dense about these things, it's taken multiple viewings/readings of each play for me to appreciate the ties between each act. Still, I'm urging you to see it. Seriously worth it. And I'm not saying that becuase I happen to make up what is act III. Also, our largest audience has been 11 people. I'm taking anything I can get at this point.

3. Today I took the bus to the Riverview Wine Bar where I watched some jazz happen and then I went to a "sound bar" known as Cause in Uptown to watch some comedy. It felt amazingly good to jump back into the Minneapolis scene that I left back in January. I saw people I haven't seen since I left and they added the flavor of home that I've been missing since I got back last weekend. Finally I'm starting to feel a little bit connected again.

4. My bed is amazing, Blog. It's amazing. It is warm and cozy and comfy and it's my favorite place in my entire house. When I'm bored, I climb into my bed and let my comfortor settle its weight on top of me. When I'm cold, I put on clean, warm socks and curl up amidst the pillows and blankets. It is clean, it is comfy, and it is mine. No matter how luxurious the hotels were that we stayed in, not a bed matched what mine has to offer when I was on tour. I am a firm believer that this would be true for everyone if they went on tour too.

5. It's been a long winter. I haven't felt the brunt of it because of my time in The South, but now that I'm back, I'm realizing that this winter is wearing on my friends. While I welcome the familiar burn the cold leaves on my hands as I walk down the street, I am reminded by everyone that it is March and still 18 degrees. A blizzard is expected tonight. Fresh snow covers old snow in that late-winter way where summer is the most impossible thing to imagine when looking at it all. People are ready for it to be over. Cabin fever is running rampant and all they can do is wait it out. A few more weeks now and it should start melting for real. I have to admit that for all the pining I did for winter while I was in North Carolina, I'm now appreciating the fact that I missed the worst of it. People are going crazy while I'm just settling into the comfort of bundling up when I go outside.

I wanted this entry to better than it is, Blog, but I'm going to have to accept it for what it is. There will be better things to say in the future. For now, I need to sleep in the bed that I was pining about in point #4. Here's to a more interesting entry next time we dish.

Anyone Wanna See Me Act? A Lot? Like, Seriously. A LOT.

Blog, it's crunch time. I have been tasked by my platonic hetero intergendered tourmate Andy to perform in a highly depressing entertaining show based in Greek mythology and set in contemporary times called Bash. It's the first of many shows he hopes to produce through his new theatre company, Ghostlight Theatre. I'd like to say that I've been in enough shows to where I feel confident tackling this project, but if I'm honest it's a little daunting.

Ok, it's a lot daunting. See, the entire thing is basically made up of three one act plays. I'm in one of them. By myself. Like, the play is me. Alone. No one else. For, like, half an hour. Things like this are easy to say yes to when it's October and you have Halloween things to do and March seems like a far off fairy tale of melty snow and sunshine. Then suddenly you're in a $37 hotel room with copious amounts of cigarette burns on the comforters, but you don't care because you have to drill these thousands of words into your brain over the next two weeks. Not to mention all the words are like, umm... and, yeah... so, you know, anyway... right? Uhh, yeah.

Come see me, if you dare. I'll be acting up a storm in Chanhassen come March 14th. And 15th. And guess what; the 16th too. Oh, you can't make it that weekend because you're too busy Blog? (yeah right) Well good thing we're putting the thing up the following weekend as well (the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd). YOU HAVE NO CHOICE.

I know I'm all iffy about this at the moment, but a lot can happen over the span of a few weeks. Every day I'm learning more, and if anything, this is a huge lesson in memorization for me. I've been insanely out of practice over the past few years, so why not go balls-to-the-wall and just cram half an hour of messed-up and depressing theatre into my mind just in time for spring? You know? Yeah, I mean, like... why not?

Because who can resist this view for the next 14 days? Not me, apparently.


Oh, you want to know who else is performing in the other two pieces that make up this madness? Well that would be my hetero tourmate himself, Andy Browers (who also is braving the let's-talk-on-stage-by-myself-for-half-an-hour-as-a-messed-up-character madness), along with old Bemidji pals Sarah Bull, and Skot Rieffer.

And since this post has turned into a shameless plug for my ridiculous theatre endeavors, give us some money. I did. I'm officially paying myself to mince my brain into word meat. If you like, you can pay me to do that for your own entertainment. It'll be worth it.

Off to read things over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Observations

Blog, it's at this time of the night that I start missing home and wish that I were back up in the frigid Minnesota air. I don't care how bitter it is, I shouldn't be able to wear a t-shirt outside like I did today.

But I did wear a t-shirt outside and it was wonderful. The sun shone inbetween the kind of clouds your mind finagles into various animals on a summer's day and we drove on winding roads through Carolinian forests. It's not strange that this is my life now. It's strange that it's not strange that this is my life now. Each night is a new hotel, preferably Microtel (they have window seats that allow you to comfortably look over their parking lots). Each day hundreds of children point and laugh at me and Andy. He is really the only constant I have in my life. It's him and our car, Forrest Gimp. Everything else is dictated by what we have on our schedule. Tonight I'm in a Target Starbucks on the outer edge of Gastonia, NC. I think it's by Charlotte, but it doesn't matter. Everyone has that drawl that hasn't lost its charm, but isn't as novel as it was when I first arrived just a few weeks ago. I've settled into tour. They told me this would happen by week three. I anticipated this would happen by week three. And now it's week three and it's everything I thought it would be, yet I can't quite grasp that this is my daily reality.

Like, wearing this hat isn't weird at all. Seriously. 

During yesterday's show, a little girl asked me what would happen if the sun died while I was recapping what we could use for renewable resources. Today I felt a wisp of a hug around my waist and realized it just in time to see my admirer run off and join her friends. This morning I had a volunteer by the name of Alberto try and ward off Andy's evil villain with the sign I asked him to hold. All in a day's work.

But after we pack up our set and settle into whatever hotel we've managed to find, I'm perusing Facebook and reading emails and am seeing what I've missed. Friends are having babies, my band is performing without me, and my niece just turned two. It's hard, and I can't imagine being here without an internet lifeline to home. The other night Andy observed that I'm not really missing home in the sense of longing, but I'm instead missing it as a part of myself. He was right. I feel like there is a part of me that must remain dormant until I return. Five more weeks and I'll be there, and of course once that rolls around I'm sure I'll be bitching and moaning about all the North Carolinian idiosyncrasies that are no longer a part of my life. We can't have it all, I guess.



For now, I'll just look longingly at this.

I Miss You, Minneapolis

I miss home, Blog. This isn't the first time I've been away from the place I live for a chunk of time, but it's the first time I've been away from a group of people who I tend to include in my every day life. I get that I left my mom and brother when I went to college way back in the day, but that's different. They were just down the road a couple of hours. I knew I could go back whenever I wanted. Plus, I had better things to do than sit in North Dakota and try to fit in with a culture I wasn't meant to fit in with.

I studied abroad in Europe for two months when I was a junior in college. I went the furthest from home I've ever been during that trip. I saw things I never thought I'd see. But I experienced the whole thing with an established group of friends; with people with whom I had cultivated friendships after I left my family in North Dakota. They were the people who are still some of my closest friends today. I got to bring home with me during that trip.

And while I'm still in the good ole USA, I feel far away from the things I love. Don't get me wrong, Blog, I'm totally happy with this decision. I'm not regretting it at all. Every day is different. I get to make kids laugh and I get to be on stage. I get to hang out with my old and dear friend Andy pretty much 24/7. We have numerous belly laughs every single day and have already collected a myriad of inside jokes that only we understand. "Do you remembah?" "Rob is requesting songs for us." and "What if the bands White Snake and Ratt played a concert together?" are daily quips that we throw at one another. Not to mention the whole "Moon Shadow" thing that happened over this past weekend with the acting buddies we saw.

But home is where the heart is and my heart is in Minneapolis. I knew this even before I left, but what I didn't realize is that there is a whole community of people there that I was just getting to know as I was packing my bags. Now my Facebook page is littered with status updates and event invites that I am unable to take non-cyber action on. All I can do is watch from a distance and know that I'll one day be back in the city that has everything I want. Friends and theatre and music and lakes and even a little bit of family. The South has been quite hospitable (people here are kind and curious and also bewildered by our accents) but it's not home. I don't do chicken and biscuits. I am afraid of the ocean (even though I love going to the beach) and call me crazy, but I'm feeling pretty weird about missing the cold snap that just happened. It made me realize that I've never missed a cold snap before. While it was a balmy 12 degrees in Minneapolis today, I took the liberty of running a couple miles outside this evening. Running outside in January is something I don't do. And while it was great and freeing and felt wonderful to exercise today, it's not home here. Home doesn't let me go outside with ease during this time of year, and if it does, it's a special day that everyone appreciates with a quaint insanity that causes them to rollerblade in short shorts even though it's still below freezing outside.

The Wizard of Oz was right. There's no place like home. March is going to both rush me and tease me with unemployment and the second round of best friends that I've made thus far. I'm looking forward to you, Minneapolis. Please hold a spot for me until I come back.

And when in doubt, put a cherry on it.

Big Tour: Tired (It's a Pun. Read This and You'll See Why.)

Well Blog, I've done it. I've escaped the humdrum desk job life that once consumed me and am wrapping up day one of what has become known as "big tour". We had plans for Rockford, Illinois tonight, but a suddenly-leaky tire held us up in the appropriately-named Hixon, Wisconsin. I was hoping it was a slow leak, but alas Blog, I could hear the air hissing out of the tire immediately after filling it up. In moments, our pressure was at a sad zero pounds per square inch, and we were stuck amongst truckers and Sconnies alike in a quiet cafe that serves GIANT chocolate malts.

Here's where I wish I had skills, Blog. I should know how to change a tire, but I don't. It is a basic process, but the last time I attempted to remove a lug nut, it was rusted on so tight not even my super strong and manly boyfriend at the time was unable to loosen it. In the end, it ended up stripped and swearing ensued.

Of course I'm going to assume removing a tire from a 1992 Mercury Topaz is a bit of a different experience than removing one from a brand new Toyota Camry, but I wasn't about to dive in to find out for myself. Not in my tired and hungover state (turns out my last night in Minneapolis was a friend/bar hopping extravaganza... totally worth it). Plus we're traveling for business, so this sort of a thing is taken care of for us.

Here's the part where I would post the sad picture I took of the deflated tire, but you're not having it for some reason, Blog. Are you not feeling up to uploading images this evening? I've never run into this problem with you before. Then again, I've never really run into having a low tire in the middle of Wisconsin, or missing the exit to our hotel in the middle of Wisconsin, or having faulty hotel keys once we finally checked in to the hotel that is in the middle of Wisconsin. Maybe it's not you, Blog. Maybe all of this has something to do with the middle of Wisconsin.

I still don't feel like I'm gone from home for the next two months. Probably because I'm only about 50 miles away from Winona right now. Yup. Winona. We didn't even make it to the actual middle of Wisconsin.

Still I love that my job has turned into finagling websites to find tire places that are open on a Saturday morning. I also love that my current job makes small children laugh and squeal with joy. Children are amazing, Blog. I had no idea. I could go on, but I'll save it for another day.

Here's to hoping we actually make it to Chicago tomorrow to see the one Goblirsch Jr. wow us with his Macbeth skills. I like to think I'm getting all the hairy stuff out of the way with this touring thing on my first day.

So Far, I Like 2013

Happy New Year Blog! So far 2013 has been superb. I had my first rehearsal with the NTC today and had a tough time believing that running around yelling about conserving energy and electricity has become my new job. I get to do it again tomorrow. And the next day and the day after that and even the day after that. I'll be doing it until March. It will become just like any monotonous job, but it will be one based in the things I love (that would be primarily the theatre arts, but I'm also a fan of energy conservation I guess). And then I will get to come back to this wonderful city that I love more and more each time I return to it. Tonight I walked along Lyndale Avenue and realized there have been a number of stages I've been on in this city. It's nothing out of the ordinary and I know a plethora of people who have done more than I have here, but for me it's a personal best. Even though I've been here for a solid six years, I still appreciate the novelty of living in Minneapolis. It's still a city to me, even though the social circles I run in can be sometimes painfully small. Perhaps it's the perfect mix of city and small town that has made me fall in love with it.

Perhaps I'm gushing over Minneapolis because I missed it after I came back from I like to call "mini tour" with my tour family where we visited five states in five days and spread ridiculous comedy to the masses. I saw enough stand up comedy to last me the rest of 2013 on this tour, Blog. I feel like I've been capitalizing on my burnt-out reaction to this. Though I also feel like I've been spending a somewhat obscene amount of time with comedians since I've been back, so it's to be expected. I've found that they are, very appropriately, easy to make fun of. There are many of them and each one thinks they are the shit. It's kind of amazing. It also kind of makes me want to take the microphone out of their hands and hit them over the head with it because, frankly, I'm sick and tired of hearing their exasperated breathing amplified over your general bar chatter as they lead into yet another joke about how sorry of a person they are.

Sure that sounded really mean, Blog, but that's how comedians roll. They like to poke fun at not only the mundane moments life has to offer (I mean what IS up with this box of wine I've been drinking? Can we get some class in this glass?), but also each other... I think. And while I'm no stand up (read previous paranthetical joke to find out why), I might as well enjoy the amusement I get out of making fun of people; especially if they're into making fun of other people themselves.

With that, I leave this great place that is crawling with comedians for two months on Friday. A week from now I'll be sharing a wonderful evening with good friends Will and Andy in Chicago; preparing for a drive to Appalachia the next day.

Remember a few weeks ago when I had a maddening desk job, Blog? Yeah, me neither.

My New Life (and a Sundog)

Well Blog, I quit my job last Friday and have put 400 miles on my car in the last two days. I still feel like I'm on a Christmas vacation of sorts, but I received a Facebook note about how today would normally be my late day at the job I just quit, and I realized that it's indeed happened. I don't have to answer to a phone queue anymore. I'm no longer at learners' beck and call. I don't have to calculate GPAs and talk people out of taking Tests and Measurements with Stats next quarter. Even better: January 7th isn't the start of a quarter anymore. It's an idle Monday; one where I'll be in rehearsal with the NTC.

At the moment, I'm in North Dakota. Home. Being here during Christmas time is something that I haven't done in years. It's a little weird. A few weeks ago my roommate Andy asked me what my favorite ornament from my childhood was. I found that I wasn't able to answer him because I haven't been home to my mom's for so long to even see what ornaments she has from when we were kids. Upon arriving in Finley tonight, I noticed that she has decked her tree with a matching assortment of red and gold balls and stars. I like it. I also have realized I'm sentimental about specific things. Apparently Christmas ornaments haven't made the cut since I haven't gathered the gumption to search the basement for what is left of this time of year circa 1990.

In other, more exciting news, 48 hours from now I'm going to be in Iowa. I know. Iowa naturally equals immense excitement. But I'll be winding down from a show at some bar that has decided to pay us in t-shirts. That's not a thing that happens to me. I can't quite wrap my mind around it, but I'm sure it will all make sense once we're on the road. I'm hoping it will make sense once we're on the road. If I think about the future too much these days, I stop believing that I've actually taken a step toward this life. The present is going to be the best place to keep my thoughts, I think. It's where I'm the happiest anyway. Might as well live it up where I most currently am. My most recent situation tells me that place is the frozen prairie. Tomorrow that place is going to be a seedy bar in Fargo. The next night? Iowa. After that? Chicago.

But as I said, the present is the best place to be. So is the past. Maybe not 1990 though. But a couple days ago, I got the most kickass picture of a sundog. Check it, Blog:

This is what happens when it's legit cold outside. .

It was weird, Blog. I was driving to see my Dad for Christmas Eve and I looked up into the sky for some reason to see where the sun was. I was surprised to see a dull point of light. It was bright outside and the light that was cast on the prairie wasn't the kind that is done so by a cloud-muted sun. But that's what this light looked like. After a moment I realized that I wasn't looking at the sun, but at a sundog. I had just explained to Kerin what a sundog was a few days before; mentioning that I hadn't seen one in years. And here one was with me on my drive to Herman on Christmas Eve. Sundogs are one of the two things I like about the cold, Blog. I'll let you guess what the second one is.

Hint: It's not worrying about my car starting.

With that, I have drunk a bottle of wine, Blog. It's time to turn in. Here's to hoping I get a chance to update you on my band tour adventures. Tomorrow we tackle the great city of Fargo. I can't wait.

Thoughtsy Thoughts

I'm sat here, curled up on my bed in my room with my laptop. For just a moment things seemed ok and movie-esque. Then I remembered I'm quitting my job in a month and a half.

I have to keep reminding myself that I have no children, no husband, not even a boyfriend. I don't own a house and have no car payments. I have me and only me to worry about and it's not always going to be this way. Might as well make the most of my independence. Because that's what it is; independence, not lonliness.

Ok, it's a little bit of lonliness, but that is easily numbed by doing things like burlesque classes (tonight), rehearsal (tomorrow), and being "seen" at the theater (Thursday). I might even tell a story at a story slam in December if I can gather the courage to do so.

This is me trying to cultivate a life that I love, Blog. How am I doing? I feel like I'm failing at every turn. But then again, I'm here on my comfy bed, in my comfy clothes, nervous for a future that I can't quite picture. I'm totally out of my comfort zone. This has got to pay off in the long run. It usually does when I'm taken out of my safe and predictable routine. It's just been a really long time since I've stepped outside of a regular job with regular hours occupied by regular people. Time for something new. I guess not knowing exactly which day will be my last at work is a nice problem to have. Should I call it quits early on December 21st? Or push through until the very beginning of January? Either way, it's a great reminder that I am the one running my life, not the silly online school that has dominated it for the past five years.

Thank God

Blog, I am really glad that I figured this out. I am really glad that I'm acting on it (be it strategically). I am incredibly relieved that I found some validation in the risks I'm about to take in the video/speech below:

So many times I've been asked at this job to articulate what my dream job is. It's always assumed that everyone would rather be doing something else, but we are here because it's the responsible thing to do. It's what needs to happen in order to afford the simple luxuries that we've grown accustomed to. I'm amazed at myself for being able to ask "But what's the worst thing that would happen if I went after what I really want to do?". My entire job is based on giving others the advice and motivation they need to go after their dreams. What would happen if I took my own advice? What is the absolute worst that would happen?

I would fail. I would be broke. I would have to put my dream on hold and start up a lame desk job again. But what I would have then that I don't have now is the experience and satisfaction of giving it a go. Might as well take a risk. There's only so much time left on this earth.



The Places We Live

Every two years or so, I tend to pack up all my belongings and leave a place I've grown to love. It's a place where the secrets to opening cabinets and locking doors have all been told to me, but their tricks still leave me stumped from time to time. It's a place that has gathered a myriad of memories but still could hold many more. Every time I move, I feel like I'm doing so prematurely. Like there is something still waiting to happen within these walls and now I've only got 48 hours left to figure out what that something is. I have to remind myself that that something will happen to me, and not to the apartment I'm once again moving from.

The longest I've lived in any one place since I was 18 was my first apartment in Minneapolis and it was for a full two years. I documented the day I got keys to the place. I'm glad I did. I imagined what was then unknown to me happening there over the next year. I don't know what I thought would happen, but I'm certain whatever it was didn't actually come to fruition. It never does.

Maybe that's why I move so much. I'm a fan of new beginnings and seem to seek them out once every few years. Moving so much has kept my earthly belongings to a minimum. I for some reason need to shed my skin every once in awhile and make a fresh start. I wish I wasn't this way. There is a part of me that is jealous of settled friends who know what to expect and are satisfied with where they are. I wish I could just relax and resist the urge to pack up and try something new. Mainly because this packing up thing breaks my heart every time. The places we live are alive with us and leaving them is like leaving a comfortable and satisfying relationship for someone you're not quite sure you'll be happy with, but who you have to go for because otherwise you'll never know.

You'll just never know.

So that's why I keep moving. Because I'll never know what it's like if I don't. I'll only know where I am. Granted, the last time I moved was completely out of necessity and nowhere near my personal desire to do so. But now that I think of it, it usually is anyway. I love this apartment more than most of the places I've lived. It's got character, it's a great location, a decent price, and my landlord is wonderful. It helped me get over one of the most difficult break ups I've ever gone through and then served as an abode where I foolishly yet necessarily pined after an Englishman. The solitude here has helped me, has hurt me, and has let me grow. And while I feel like I could stay for another few years, I know I can't. It's time to go try something new. It's time to go after what I really want for once and since I was cursed with the desire for a completely un-lucrative career, I have to downsize in the residence department. I'm going to have roommates who I'm not dating for the first time in 7 years. I'm going to have to learn how to share a bathroom and a kitchen. I'm going to have to figure out how to split bills and what food is mine. Change is scary, but change is good.

I just have to remember that one day it will be ok to settle. Because even when you settle, you still can't accurately imagine what is going to happen to you in the next year. It could be anything. And even if it is the scariest thing in the world, there is another side to come out on.

I remember when I graduated high school, I had a thought that I've managed to keep with me since: "A year from now, who knows the people I'll know". I couldn't even fathom the thought of what turned out to be the most familiar faces in my life; one who is my soon-to-be roommate. It was petrifying and wonderful all at the same time.

A year ago I was leaving a long-running overseas relationship for someone I wasn't quite sure I'd be happy with, but who I went for because otherwise I would have never known. Well now I know. He wasn't for me. But a year ago, I also wasn't in this band. I also wasn't going on tour. I also wasn't going to take a leap of faith and leave this apartment I love so very much as a sacrifice so I could pursue something I've loved my entire life.

Change is good.

News

Blog, I didn't forget about you. No. In fact, I would have posted in you on Thursday night if the Amtrak ever got on the technology train (pun intended) and figured out a wifi connection onboard. I did the next best thing though. I opened up a good old word document and wrote the following as car #12 rocked its way down the rails...

Every time I’m on the train, I look at the people working on the train and envy them for the cool job they have. In reality, it’s probably a really lame and stupid job, but it seems novel. Living a life on the rails and coming across all sorts of people young and old traveling across the country. All of them at different points in their lives, with different backgrounds and experiences. The train unites them together in a long line of cars bobbing down the tracks in a slow and comforting rhythm.

But tonight I’m on the squeaky car. Luckily my music is doing a good job of drowning it out.

Tonight I looked at the train employees and was content with my place and theirs. I had no desire to quit my job and take up a life of traveling across the country, catering to a variety of passengers. I think it’s because I’ve landed my own job traveling across the country, catering to the malleable minds of Appalachian youth. Out of context this sounds ridiculous. It kind of is. A couple months ago I went out on a limb and auditioned for a touring theater company that puts on educational shows for children across the country. And I got cast.

I leave in January. It’s only for two months, which I’m happy about. I know by March I’ll be missing Minneapolis something fierce and will embrace my return to this city that I find myself loving more and more with each time I leave it. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

What I’ll do when I’m back is beyond me. I’m working with Courtney on figuring out a plan to get headshots and commercial work. It’s something I feel completely incapable of doing. But she described the whole process as breaking through tissues; daunting tissues that only turn out to be tissues after you’ve discovered how easy they are to break through. Why am I pursuing this sort of thing? Because my heart and my mind won’t rest until I do. I’ve been so logical and responsible I’ve pushed what I really love aside just so I could make the rent and pay the bills and have some left over to pay for a good time.

But I realized I spend most of my time toiling away at a job I’ve grown to hate, just so I can spend money on wine. Something has clicked in me over the past few months. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but there was a day when I realized that I could do whatever I want. Well, whatever I want within reason and morals. I love performing. I love creating. It is something I’ve known since I was a kid. Am I good at it? Who cares? I love it. I should do it. If I’m not good at it now, I’ll get good at it by doing it.

So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to take the plunge. I’m going to go on tour. I’m in a band. I’m going to get headshots and hopefully commercial work. I’m going to continue working with the amazing Courtney McLean who is showing me that the tissues really are just tissues. They may be scary, but they are easily broken.

I’m not envious of the train workers because I’m finally on a path to doing something that I love. I’ve finally become ok with myself. Thank God I figured it out before I hit 30.

I Found That Corner

Look at what my dear sister in law sent to me this evening, Blog:

Trust me. There's meaning behind this.

A full explanation as to why this is so incredibly awesome can be found in a post I made six months ago.

Really this article is just a cherry on top of a very exciting stream of events that have made themselves present in my life over the last 24 hours; one being an invitation I received to be a part of this band. It was something that I totally saw coming, but that didn't stop the elation from taking over me as I listened to Courtney herself offer me a position through a very darling and amusing voicemail. I don't know why I'm acting all star-struck with her. I've improvised with her and stage managed one hell of a Fringe show for her as well. I guess there's something really great about being asked to be a part of a project that I respect and am impressed by. Finally, after so many years of awkwardly sitting on the outskirts of the creative community down here, I'm finding the beginnings of a niche. Granted, I think I've had to let my guard down a little bit in order for it to happen. But it's further proof that a little bit of uncomfort and a lot fear lead to good things if you embrace them and hope for the best in the end.

There's more to say, but my mind is too preoccupied with freaking out with fear and hoping for the best to articulate it. The best I can do is finish this glass of wine and turn in so I can rise and shine for breakfast with Kerin in the morning.

So long...

My Yearly Fringe Post

Blog, here are some thoughts I have on the Minnesota Fringe Festival.

1. The Fringe Festival takes over my Facebook newsfeed something fierce every August. It is easy to see the emergence of  the successes and pitfalls that come with everyone's shows. The pitfalls are less noticeable because people tend to not post about bad reviews and sucky shows on Facebook. This allows for the highlighted and confident shows to easily shine to the masses (me). Soon, these successful shows become the Fringe's mainstream and comfort. I don't know what to choose! I shall therefore go to a show I've heard a lot about so I feel safe, even though I know there is a chance that it may not live up to its hype.

2. The Fringe Festival serves as an arena where every theater person in Minneapolis (and beyond) can feel in control of their artistic destiny. Anyone and everyone has the opportunity to act on that brilliant idea that has been cooking in the back of their minds since that breakup/lay-off/mid-life crisis/end of college. The masses must know the brilliance that lies within your civilians, Minneapolis! The masses must keep incredibly tight schedules to experience it! The masses must be subject to the potential confusion that abounds with copious amounts of inside theater jokes brought to the stage in an attempt to entertain said masses!

3. The Fringe Festival is a popularity contest where the winners are determined by Matthew Everett, the Fringe blogger I never really hear about during the other 55 weeks of the year. Who are you Matthew? I should know as I was on your public access TV show once, and yet I don't. You emerge with your critical eye every August and sink back into the arts oblivion just as the Perseids reach their peak. A mystery you are to me, Mr. Everett. I fear I may never solve you... or your mother.

4. The Fringe Festival reminds me of how wonderful and awful theater can be. It's like a drug and I am its addict. You can ride the emotional high from a performance well done for only so long until your conscious sinks back into a rut of self scrutiny. Even the most confident performers have second thoughts about how great their shows are. Maybe I'm making that up... no I'm not. I don't care if your last name starts with "Scrim" and ends with "shaw". There's no way in hell you can feel 100% awesome about your show at all times. Not when there are critics running rampant with a rating system and review venue at their fingertips. Not when they know they have the power to dash dreams if dreams deserved to be dashed.

5. The Fringe Festival is the one time a year when the theater community comes together in a way where everyone is special. Everyone gets to put on a play. Everyone gets to be a critic. Everyone can see a show, and everyone can get drunk and bitch about it afterwards. Everyone gets caught up in the hype. Everyone wants to impress and be impressed. Everyone wants to limit the amount they allow themselves to be impressed because everyone has been given the opportunity to show off their superior theater chops, whether it be on stage or in the audience. And everyone who is anyone knows that superior theater chops are reflected by being difficult to impress.

I love/hate the Minnesota Fringe Festival. It stirs emotions within my soul and as we have covered before, Blog, I know not how to deal with feelings. They make me uncomfortable and confused. Tragically, they also make me feel alive, and this is why I'm drawn to the ridiculousness year after year.

With that, my entry pertaining to the Fringe Festival is complete for 2012. Previous entries; good, bad, and ugly can be found here, here, and here. My first taste of it can be found here. Don't judge, Blog. I didn't know what I was talking about.

Time to go hate myself for loving this so much.

Mini Vacation Plans

I leave for a long weekend in Chicago one month from yesterday, Blog. I love when I plan a trip and then forget about it only to remember it a couple weeks later. It's kind of like when you get something in the mail that you ordered online; it doesn't feel like a purchase, but more a gift that you've given yourself. I guess that's what most shopping is anyway. Gifts from you, to you. It's kind of like me and you, Blog. (Since you're really just an extension of me anyway) How about that?

For some reason it's weird to think that I haven't been to Chicago in over 4 years. I've never frequented Chicago, but at the same time I've always thought it to be easily accessible since it's about as far away from me as Finley is. Just a hop, skip, and a jump down the road by my standards. An easy 8 hour train or bus ride. Or even better, a cheap and quick hour and a half flight. I feel like I've been there many more times than I actually have.

Last time I was down there, Ryan and I took the train to experience the drinking and traipsing around that ended up being the majority of our relationship. I should have seen it then, but I think I was preoccupied by the bean and green river. Shiny things and colored water tend to be my weaknesses.


My rendition of the ultimate distraction.

This time I hope to see the sites and enjoy a beach. I also am excited because this time I'll be visiting Will, who has lived in Chicago for a couple years now and knows his way around. I've never been to this city with someone who knows its ins and outs quite so well. I hope to do more than just get drunk and chat up other random drunks. Although don't get me wrong, I am certainly glad to make a night of it. But there is so much more to do there than drink.

Like, I don't know...

See a show.

Ride the ferris wheel at Navy Pier.

Visit the Sears Tower (including the crazy balcony thing that I have dared myself to edge up to if we make it to the observatory)

See the animals in the zoo.

Ride the El.

Get into a gang fight.

Pretend my last name ends in "ski" (i.e. Veldhouski).

Eat a special hotdog that has a bunch of Chicago ingredients on it.

Oh man! I missed out last time! I'm certainly going to have a full schedule for Will to live up to. That, and it will be Labor Day Weekend and after doing a little googling, I've learned there is going to be a jazz festival and fireworks too. He'd better get cracking and start preparing for my arrival. It certainly has potential to be quite the mini vacation.

My first time in the Windy City back in aught five. My hair goes well with your moniker, Chicago.

Yet Another Ode to Theater

First things first, Blog...

OMG DOWNTON ABBEY I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I HAVE BEEN LIVING UNDER THIS ANTI-POP CULTURE ROCK FOR ALL THESE YEARS!!

I am learning, Blog. I am learning about the Edwardian Era of the 20th century. I'm learning about the elegance and ridiculousness of aristocrats who live in a castle. I'm learning about the relationships people have with one another. I'm feeling feelings again! Major nerd feelings geared towards fantastical characters on a screen, but feelings nonetheless! Feelings I can apply to my life and be inspired by! Feelings that tell me I'm not alone! That it could be worse! That I too could prefer a chaise lounge to that of an upright chair when it comes to relaxing in a corset.

Masterpiece Theater is changing my life. I should have known this was going to be a thing for me. It's not my fault that I'm the spawn of people who religiously taped I Claudius when it aired on PBS during my childhood. God it was so boring when I was seven! But now. NOW! Bring it on Masterpiece Theater! I realize my parents have impeccible taste when it comes to late night public programming. Don't get me started on Ken Burns' Civil War...

I think there's an element of excitement for me today Blog because I spent my entire afternoon doing what I absolutely love in this life: making theater. I'm reminded this Fringe season that it's not all about being on stage for me. I am in love with the entire process of putting on a show. I need to do this more. I need to learn how to run a light board. I need to call cues more often. I need to assess a stage picture and figure out if it works. And if it doesn't? How do I make it better?

I've said it time and time again that I feel cursed with the fact that I was destined to have a heart that lives in the world of the performing arts. I think I've stifiled it for the most part since it is a ridiculous profession when you really think about it. Let's get some people up on a platform, soak them in lights, and listen to what they have to say. But it's the core of every piece of entertainment you see out there. The music you listen to is made by people who stand in a light in front of other people watching them. The movies you pay $12 to see are put on by people standing in front of cameras and technicians lighting them with all sorts of contraptions. The TV shows you watch, LIKE DOWNTON ABBEY, are created the same way. The stage is where it all started and it's where my heart lies and I totally am aware that every July I get all gushy over the performing arts and aspire to become something great and get this sort of a thing in my life right away. But let's face it. I never take action.

Except for today before the tech rehearsal I so thoroughly enjoyed, I auditioned for a company that tours children's shows around the country. If I get it? I leave my current job and take a leap of faith for the thing I've loved to do ever since I can remember. Ever since I was an annoyed seven year old who didn't want to watch I Claudius, but instead wanted her mom to play showtunes from the Reader's Digest Unforgettable Music Memories collection so she could put on an old dress and play "Broadway" in the mirror. Clap Hands, Here Comes Charlie! wasn't just a catchy tune. It was a dream. An perfectly attainable dream!

I'm appropriately dramatic about this. I told the cast I pseudo directed today that their movements and decisions, no matter what they are, must be deliberate on stage. The audience trusts deliberate action. So does fate. I have to take my own direction and deliberately go through with this, no matter how stupid or foolish I feel. Some of the best advice I got from one of my acting teachers in college was a simple word: commit. Commit to your actions and you will find your way.

So I auditioned for this big thing. If I get it, I'm doing it. If I don't? I'm still moving in with Andy Browers. I've been asked to potentially manage this band. I am looking here for opportunities both acting and tech-wise. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, but I have to trust that my interest has given me enough knowledge to start. I technically earned a minor in Theater alongside my major in English. I might as well put it to use since my main course of study is just what I speak and write every day anyway. I don't regret a lot, but I do regret not taking the actual thing I love and making it my major. It's never too late, I guess.

Revelations

I am wiped out Blog. Don't worry. It is in a good way.

I just wrote an entire scene breakdown for the show I'm stage managing for the Fringe this year. I honestly don't even want to get into it. So many stage directions. So many props. So. Many. Cues.

It's going to be wonderful.

And because I'm learning that I'm a conflicted soul who yearns for the spotlight, but doesn't know what to do with it once it floods my eyes, I'm going to refrain from going any further into promoting the show. No one reads you anyway Blog. Any promotion here is pointless. And there is something comforting about that.

I also realized I've been waiting around for a boy who is never going to show up.

So because that guy is never going to arrive, I'm going to go ahead and do what I want. I'm going to move. I'm going to audition for a touring show next week. And if I get it? I'm quitting my job.

I don't need to do what I'm supposed to do anymore. I'm going to do what I want to do.

It's not worth it to sit around in this room and let depression take over my being just because I have a steady income at a desk job. It sounds naive, but I don't care. I'm done with this. I'm going to make it a goal to keep what I love in my life, one way or another.