Enjoy the Silence

For once, you don't have to read about me talking about myself! And you won't have to for another three weeks!

Yeah, I'm gone a while.

But I FINALLY got tickets to see Hair tonight in Central Park. The bummer is that the friend who was supposed to go with me has to work. Boooooo to work. I mean, more money's good, but boooooooo to work. Booooooooooooooooooo.

I'm really tired. I had to work for those freakin' tickets, man. Went down and sat in Central Park three days in a row. Got up yesterday at 6am. Got up today at 4:30am. I am wiped. I hope I stay awake for the show. Guess I'll just have to make some more coffee.

And now I must be off. Whew. Yep. Definitely having that coffee.

Self-Improvement

Self-Improvement
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I started this book a few days ago. It's a 30-day exercise in confronting the fact that, yes, we're all going to die, so let's not waste time living a life that doesn't reach its full, fully engaged potential. So far it reminds me quite a bit of The Artist's Way, but I like having something to work on. I like working on me.

Hope everyone's Fourth of July was fun! I got a surprise visit from a friend as I was leaving work, so we hung out there for a while instead of looking at fireworks with a bunch of other wet (it rained), sweaty people. And fun was had by all.

"You should be in the movies."

Or at least in a music video.

Zach Braff is directing Jay Clifford's music video for "Know When to Walk Away." It's simple: you download the song, learn the lyrics, record yourself performing the song, then upload it to the site.

DO IT. I haven't decided yet if I will, but you should.

And if nothing else, you get a free song. Free is good, no?

http://www.jaycliffordmusicvideo.com

My week, stream-of-consciousness style

"So that's Bryant Park. What's up, Fashion Week? Why do so many people spit here? That's nasty, dude. I really don't want to hear you horking up the contents of your throat and sinuses. This looks like an expensive part of town. Oh, hey, I've called that hotel and they've called us, too. Nifty. I should go in and say hi. NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY OMG. Who cares about Jack Kerouac: look at the design on that ceiling! No, I do not want to give money to the homeless. Yes, I'm a cold, cold woman who doesn't have any money, either. I like this song. Man, I do NOT want to go back to work. Hey, it's not so bad here at work. I think they missed me. Heh. Was that Bob Costas? That was Bob Costas. Man, he is tiny! Like, REALLY tiny. So Ebony will be here, eh? Which one, I wonder? Please be kind to me, temp agency. I need a job. AUDITIONING EVERY DAY THIS WEEK OMG. I feel like a real actor! This new apartment is sweet. Hopefully I'll get to stay. Man, he's cute. I doubt he'll ask me out, though. I despise working on the floor. Singing audition = HATE. Those Equity monitors are great folks. I should bring them cookies. Strict diet rules have definitely flown out the window at a rapid velocity: mmmmmm...fish and chips! Oh, hello there white bread! You are crusty and soft and tasty! What's that, cranberry oatmeal scone with melted sugar on top? You'd like me to eat you like it's my job? I believe I am qualified for that task. Midtown = HATE. Free Broadway tix? Is that where my $454 worth of dues went? Sweet! I'll take it. Hey! Hire me! I am sooooo smart and talented and you won't regret it I promise! How is it that you can, in good conscience, pay an adult person a wage that does not allow them to actually live? Winter must die. Thank you for lunch and presents, Father-of-mine! I love my red tights. These dancer chicks are seriously skinny. She's wearing those hotpants-style dance shorts and NOTHING is jiggling. She sucks. And she's 12. Aisha's coming! All I want to do is eat. What's that, 100% cacao Ghirardelli chocolate bar dipped in honey? You were made for my consumption and mine alone? Why, thank you! That building is GORGEOUS. I wish I could live there. No more 1 trains? UGH. FINE. I'll walk to 72nd. But I'm just letting you know now that you SUCK, MTA. Just kidding. You're really awesome, actually. You keep this city from falling apart at the seams. These shoes were a mistake. Saturday already? Rockin'. Today I do nothing productive. Zzzzzzz..."

I worry sometimes that my grey (I will NOT spell it with an 'a', I don't care that I'm not English nor am I in England, "gray" is so unromantic) hair ages me as an actor. Sometimes I'm ok with the notion that it might, other times I fret (see: a few entries back).

On Halloween, I somehow got on that topic with a new friend (that I hope to see again). I told her that I worry about it as an actor, but she said that she loved it. Other people have told me before that they think it's beautiful, striking, unique, etc, but something about the way she said it stuck with me. She described the greys as twining around the darker hair and how awesome that was, and how she would dye her hair just to try to get it to look like that. I mentioned that I always remember women in film and television who have a grey streak in their hair, and she agreed that it was what made them stand out, so it was cool. I accepted the compliment, but it didn't hit me until a day later that I should be working my greys for all they're worth, and that a particular hairstyle could aid my ownership of my hair.

I love epiphanies like that. I love when something that has been a nuisance becomes a pleasurable tool. So, thanks, Laurel. I appreciate it.

I was just lamenting that I didn't get a full-length photo of myself from the Ivey Awards this year, and then they finally posted the roving photogs pictures on the internets.

Here I am.

This is how I feel about blogging right now.

I might make some cookies to make myself feel better.

I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance (shuddup) and I let the dog outside during the commercials. It's raining, and the dog is a wuss when it's raining. So he's standing on the step blinking at me and I'm yelling at him to "Go potty! It's not raining that hard! Go up the hill and go potty NOW!" and so on and so forth. I turn to look at the tv to see if the show is back on and I catch the last two seconds of a Cub commercial. In fact, it was the Cub commercial that I shot last month. And I missed it because I was yelling at the dog. BOO.

Oh well. It'll be on again.

Hrm.

I was going to write this awesome blog about being at the gym, and it was going to be a full-length, beginning middle end type post that might actually be interesting to read, but I just finished cutting my hair and I'm a little traumatized. So no gym blog.

My sister brought her flat iron home when she came to visit, and on Monday I took it and straightened my hair. I discovered that, despite my consistent trimmings, there was still a good inch that was in need of the chop chop chopping of scissors. So, before I let it curl up again I thought it might be a good idea to cut it.

And wow. My hair is short. I know it will grow back, but wow. I didn't buzz cut it or anything, and it's not above my ears - well, some of it isn't - but it's shorter than it's been in a while and the look on my mother's face was not one of "Oh! You cut your hair!" delight but more "Holy crap what did you do?!" So I'm wondering what it's going to look like when it's no longer straightened.

I do remember the year that I first did the Twin Cities Unified Auditions I got a haircut that morning and was worried that it would be too short, but I ended up liking it a lot. So I'm imagining it will be something like that. I hope. I pray. I fervently hope and pray.


And no, there will be no pictures posted here. So don't ask.

Stationary bike, here I come.

I joined a gym tonight. I've never belonged to a gym in my life.

I'm kind of excited.