Peace :: Past and Present

So freaking tired. How can a day off exhaust one so? Didn't do much. I went out for lunch and saw a movie with a friend. We really freaked ourselves out by talking about the anticipation of War. I got so upset thinking about chemical weapons I was sick for a little while there. We both agreed that there was a general sense of helplessness when it came to living here in these times. I can not help but feel utterly out of control when I think of the decision to go into Iraq being out of our hands as a people. I don't agree with the President but I somehow don't believe that mine or any other American's feelings are going to keep him from going on with this.

I feel so small and unsure when I think about it. Of course, I don't want to die. I just get more upset when I think about anything happening to my sister's kids. If some horrible bacterialogical weapon was unleashed, they wouldn't even understand the horror that was unfurled on them. It kills me inside.

I wonder if being uninformed would be better? I don't want to go around being scared. I want to continue to live. I just don't want to feel terrorized or bullied. That's exactly how these people would like us to be.

So after contemplating this all over lunch, we go to see Bloody Sunday. Excellent film but also highly upsetting. It was shot in a very rough steadicam style with numerous cuts jumping from the characters and different points of action. I think the most highly disturbing scene is not the one of the massacre but the one in which the British soldiers go over their story together. The lies they will tell to cover up the atrocity they just committed.

The most incredible and heart rendering scene is one in which few if any words are spoken. It is a scene shot in the Derry hospital where "all" the victims are brought. People worried then weeping for their family lost in a peaceful march for Civil Rights.

Rambling along here, lost in the words I'm thinking of. I'm sad thinking of efforts for peace ignored today and in yesteryear. No matter what country or conflict...

You do have to stand for what you believe or become a hypocrite.

Happiness is Swag :: Size XL

My mantra as of late is LA Sucks. Anything to do with Hollywood, movies, and the industry gets my panties in a serious bunch. A $1,200 mobile phone bill will do that everytime. Seriously hurts when they are that far up your ass crack...

Today, instead of the proof positive bill I recieved yesterday via USPS, I got reaffirmation that all people do not suck. A little reminder in the form of a package that I've worked with some really amazing folks. I was actually really confused when I saw the manila envelope in front of my door this evening. I thought it could have been a late birthday present.

I looked at the return address. Big Green Productions it read. What the hell?

Inside, a crew jacket size XL. Sure it won't fit and it's cut for a man. But, it did make me remember what it IS like to work with people who appreciate you. I gotta call those guys up and thank them for turning my day around.

Who needs panties anyway?

Ordinary Problems :: Extraordinary Times

Ok, enough. I've been sitting on the pity pot for a week now. I'm having as a co-worker put it yesterday a cathartic time in life. I responded, "Yea, alot of people are having cathartic problems. I know I'm not the only one." He put into plain words. "We all have ordinary problems..."

Today's headlines put that into clearer focus than anything:

"BUSH GETS POWER TO STRIKE IRAQ"

Ordinary problems. Can't pay bills. Don't know where I'm working next month. I still don't have a mattress after more than three years of the futon.

People like Katrina are sitting somewhere fussing over extraordinary problems. Am I shipping out? Can I shoot accurately enough? Will I be able to do it when the time calls for it?

Will I come back? And how do I say good-bye?

A whole other range of problems and thinking. As war looms over us, the Blue Angels rip through the October Skies of this Blessed City of St. Francis readying themselves for Sunday's show. Bush says he hasn't decided to bring us into the war. Pete Stark tells the Chron, " You know the President wants blood. He wants war. That's why we're going through this."

All I want is ordinary problems for everyone...

My Favorite Blend :: Sanity in a Cup

All I ask for is one piece of normalcy. I have to have one sane thing in my life and that's coffee. What else would it be? There are no sane people. I have to put all my hopes in coffee. It wakes me up, gets me through the day, and keeps me company when I read the paper. It's like a mom and a good friend all poured into one cuppa joe.

Wait... Couldn't I say that about G&T also?

Checkpoint 30 :: What does my forehead read?

Every year around my birthday I do an inventory. Sort of a mental inventory of where am I now, where am I going, am I being the person I want to be kinda psychological hoopla. This year, all the fucking drama in my life is keeping me from taking tabs on life. It's a definite distraction from living.

Three things I know already. I'm not readjusting well to the transition from Movie to Normal Life. That's an easy one to see. It's always hard but now made extremely difficult by the lack of closure. Two, having a nervous breakdown fucks with your emotional hold on living. Three, I am faced with the problematic aspect of my acting out.

All three of these things combined pretty much turn me into an asshole. Something I'm not all that intrigued with being. But it's something, that is a direct result of all the stress and pressure I've been under. I had been sitting and wondering just when it was that I was going to turn. On my calander, I marked the date as October 6. My birthday of course. My thirtieth birthday to be precise.

Thirty marks a date of failure for me from the past. Years ago, I couldn't wait to turn thirty. I longed to be thirty. I knew thirty was a benchmark for a women. Especially a female Opera singer. Thirty is when the voice fully matures and you can start to take on some of the richer and fuller roles in the Opera Repertoire. I gave up alot to study and quite a bit to sing. I still can not accept the failure.

Thirty marks a date of failure for me today as well. Giving up the Opera, I got to experience living in other ways. I threw myself fully into another career. One where I thrived despite the craziness surrounding me. I gave alot to work and gain acceptance. I am stunned by this failure.

Thirty marks a date where I turned full circle. Still not happy. Still failing. Still giving all of myself and shocked when life hands me nothing in return. Here I am with only three things to inventory this year and all extremely depressing.

I wonder how I can not have learned anything in these thirty years? Am I so naive that I only mouth the words and no longer live them? Am I still asking myself the hard questions? Better yet, am I still looking for the answers?

And what did I learn on October 6?

Failure can make you an asshole. But an apology makes you feel like even more of one.

It must be blinking like a red light on my forehead.

Being the Movie :: Trust, Trauma, and Turning Thirty

I think about this blog sometimes and wonder am I really taking this on the way I want to. This year has been a shit year. Yes, I think I can agree I am being honest with myself there. Yes, I have left this in disuse and neglect due to the intense trauma I have going thru in my personal and professional life. But then, how do you really separate the two when for the past three months I have living, breathing, and being THE MOVIE.

THE MOVIE - How do I explain the business? How do I explain the lifestyle? Stop! What lifestyle! There is no life perse there is only THE MOVIE. THE MOVIE is your home. THE MOVIE is your family. THE MOVIE is really your relationship. Actually, the only one I've had going on for quite a while. And, at least I can be honest with myself there. The only real relationship I've had is with THE MOVIE. I gave my heart, my soul, and every last ounce of strength to this MOVIE.

I cannot believe I never gave in or up. Sure, I had a nervous breakdown. What's a little throwing yourself on the ground and sobbing uncontrollably in the midst of breaking into your office between co-workers? It's all in a day's work. I may even have had two - give or take a revealing moment. I guess right then and there, a person with a little more common sense or a less dysfunctional background would have quit? I am a true sadist. I finished out the day both times.

I thought being dedicated counted for something. I believed in honesty even in a corrupt business. I had a work ethic beyond all others. Who reaps the benefits? Everyone who was fleecing the company - robbing them blind and smiling the entire time. Fuckers...

And where am I? Tossed out on my ass... Bereft of job, bereft of reputation, bereft of trust and fucking turning thirty.

What do I have to show? Pain like I haven't felt in years. Trauma that keeps replaying everytime I close my eyes. And not even a goddamn credit to ease it...

Getting fired fucking sucks. Not finishing the movie hurts like hell. Hurts even more when I remember how hard it was to keep showing up. It was all I could do to keep the wrap date in sight and cry myself to sleep every fucking night. Feeling so alone while telling myself I was stronger than all those motherfuckers. I had to fucking fight. Fight them. Fight myself. Just not fucking give up. That would have been pleasurable for them to see me fucking fail.

Everyone got what they wanted. In a sense, I did fail. THE MOVIE still gets made. I was professional. I had integrity. I didn't go Postal. All things that only mean something to me. I had to pay with my broken heart and the heavy case of PTSS*. The rest can take their paychecks home along with their cases of water.

While I turn thirty, the clock's still ticking. Nothing is as easy as it was before. Younger and prettier girls are out there. I know - I was one of them once. Baby Gap ads make me cry as idiotic as that sounds. I see couples and families everywhere. I periodically question myself how that dumb fuck can have a family, wife, and a girlfriend? I'm not that unattractive or unintelligent! And shit, most of America is fucking dysfunctional...

Well, at least I'll always have the movies...

And if that relationship sours anymore than it has recently, I could always get a dog or maybe 5 to 10 cats to fill the void...

Maybe I didn't have anything else. Maybe I am alone. Geez, maybe people I know will read this and think I'm a fucking nut. I could fucking care less. You have to be honest. You just can't fuck around and fool yourself. There's not enough time to process thru that shit once you start.

Yes - Life was being THE MOVIE.
Yes - PTSS "is" real.
Yes - Thirty is not some easy thing for me. It may even be easier to be the movie.


*Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome