Getting Started

I've been itching to write something for quite some time now, but feared I had nothing "useful" to say. Apparently, I've finally gotten past that. Ha. Saying useful or important things doesn't seem to be the main priority of others, or so it would seem. So I'm going to tell myself that I'm off the hook in that regard.

I want to write something that isn't politically charged or angry or polarizing. With any luck, I can accomplish this. My blood pressure rises every time I get on Facebook, turn on the news, read a magazine...and I'm tired of it. I want to write something that doesn't have anything to do with my "real" job, or the current health care debate, or anything that makes my nostrils flare in indignation. I just want to write about me. I don't know if I am all that interesting without any gimmicks, so I'll try to start with a theme or two. If it wanders off course in the future, perhaps we'll start over or rename the blog. I don't know yet. I used to be indecisive, but now I'm just not sure...

(I'm also a big fan of points of ellipsis and quotation marks and throwing grammar rules to the wind in favor of creativity. I am unapologetic.)

I'm in the process of trying to figure out exactly what I want out of life. In January, I will turn 30. I've never really committed myself to doing anything that I think would make me really proud of myself. Perhaps now is the time to start. There are lots of different things I could do to this end.

I would like to get into great physical shape. Nothing scary...just the best physical shape I can possibly maintain. I've never been in "good shape" for longer than a month or two. It just hasn't been something I've been able to maintain. I love food. LOOOOOOOVE food. And I hate exercising. I like to sit still and read a book or watch TV. I'm not a fan of sweat or smelling unpleasant. Sleep is my favorite activity in the world. I am the girl who told multiple military recruiters that I would be a detriment to our country, and despite my grades in school, they did not, in fact, want me. That I was a coward and lazy and a whiner who tried to avoid discomfort at all costs. That, for the sake of of our military future, they should take me at my word and look elsewhere. It's still all true, although I try to keep the whining as an internal monologue these days.

I always wanted to be quasi-famous. The local celebrity. I wanted to know that my performance ability as a singer or an actress would pay the bills, and maybe get some praise...nothing excessive, of course. I also wanted to be thin and gorgeous, but without a lot of effort. I remember a time in a long-ago and far-away gym when there was a woman on the elliptical machine next to me--thin, gorgeous, perfectly manicured fingernails barely gripping the handrests, tanned, hair and makeup as if she was about to have her photo taken, workout getup perfectly matched-- exercising at a pitifully slow speed so as not to break a sweat or muss anything. After about 20 minutes, she dabbed her nonexistent sweat with a towel and left to seize the rest of her day. I had been there for (this was on a Christmas break from college) about an hour and a half, trudging away, red-faced, pudgy, and with sweat forming those oh-so-flattering rings under my sports bra. (Couldn't sweat create false defined abs on your workout shirt? That would be more motivating.) I had eaten nothing but egg whites and bean sprouts for weeks, trying to get into good enough shape to be cast as a lead in a musical I was dying to perform. (As a side note, I got cast in the chorus, despite losing 30 pounds in a month.) I would return to the gym later that afternoon, to do yet more cardio. And I couldn't help simultaneously thinking as I watched that lovely woman leave the gym, "you bitch" and "LUCKY!!!"

I don't know exactly when I will get off the fence and decide to procreate. A year from now, at earliest, I suppose. I'm only half joking when I say that it would depend on the theatrical seasons of multiple venues--what shows they are doing, that is. One of my greatest fear is, if I look like this NOW...what am I going to look life after I have a child or two? Another related fear is, what if I get into really great shape and then get really conflicted about getting pregnant and "ruining" everything. What if that ends up being yet another reason I never achieved a theatrical career, regardless of how small? I never claimed to stick to rational thoughts. I do know this--if and when I do have a baby, I want to be a warrior about it. I want to be in good shape at the time I get knocked up and feel really healthy and strong. So, if for no other reason, that's a good motivator to kick my ass into shape.

Plus, I think I would have better theatrical and print gig opportunities if I was to whittle down and firm up. The closer I can get to becoming exclusively a performer, the more fulfilled I will feel. The time has come for me to stop denying that fact. I wanna sing and act and anything related. I feel most complete when I am performing. Everything else is just distraction. I am not as extroverted as most in this profession, so it's hard for me to just come right out and say this. But there it is. I will also try to write about this particular quest.

The thinnest I ever have been (post puberty) was my junior year of high school when I was a size 10 during the production of L'il Abner. I was that size for a couple of months, and have not been smaller than a 12 since.That may not sound that small...but I felt like Cindy Crawford all the same. I would LOVE to get back there. I know it's most important just to "feel good." Whatever. My vain pride needs a boost. I want to KNOW that I look good. I am a 12 now, thanks to the UAMS program, but I am starting to creep back up towards a 14. I'm not keeping a food journal, I'm not watching my calories, I'm not attending the gym as often as I should...and I'm starting to fear that I resemble a beach ball with a head and appendages.

So, I have created a blog about my current experiences in self-betterment. Yikes. We'll see where we go from here...