Tagged: Thoughts

Jan 22

On Readings

The thing about surrendering control of a play to a staged reading is that it renders you as powerless as the rest of the audience.  You become nothing more than a (high-stakes) observer – helpless to correct actor’s missteps, unable to clarify a misspoken line, and useless to make certain anyone sees what you see in this seed of an idea.

You sit.

You wait.

You cringe and chuckle and sweat.

And at the end of it all, you sit and listen to your fellow observers (though you are now center stage) – an exhibition to ask questions of, offer advice to, and seek story solace from… all in the hopes of helping you make the play better… all under the guise of shared responsibility to help you “develop” your script.

And if you’re lucky, you write enough of what is said down so that you can look at it later… when you’re alone… back in the comfort of your unobserved work space.  And you hope that it will somehow help you solve your act break SNAFU, a character aberration, or some other detail that’s been bothering you (or your readers).

You hope that anyone present with the ability to advance your career liked your play enough (or your comments/laugh/shoes enough – you’re not picky) to remember you and maybe invite you to play at their theatre somehow.  You hope that if this damn play gets read enough, the next theater that tells you they like it will do something more than just present it as a reading, because really, you’ve already put this play through 10 million (or 6) of those already and isn’t it about time someone started putting productions where their compliments are?

Because you’re a playwright.

And Playwriting is messy, public business.

And you can’t wait to get into a bigger, more public arena, with new actors and directors, where you are once again rendered helpless in the back of a (bigger) audience as the curtain rises…

Sweating even bigger bullets.

 

 

 

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Jul 13

Snzzzzzz… please!

I’ve not been one to suffer insomnia, but I’m having a hard time calming the eff down after the whirlwind I’ve been living in the past few weeks.  I mean, I had a few sleepless nights in the midst of all that, but now that I’m home and able to tuck in before midnight, I find that instead I’m just…

…stewing.

I’m listing what needs to be done and staring at Facebook.

I’m cooking up drama and playing scrabble.

I’m agonizing over how tired I am, and yet putting off bed for blog posts…

(sigh)

I think the “Emergency!  Don’t STOP!” button has yet to be reset, and so I’m just riddled with adrenaline, but the “Seriously loosing steam” kind, and am left tossing and turning kind of dumbly, with naught for understanding of just what in the heck I need to do to friggin’ GO TO SLEEP ALREADY!

(double sigh)

So instead I’m blogging about it, and finally my eyes are starting to droop, so that’s a good sign…

Maybe I’ll get back to normal sleeping habits SOON… because this girl is a very tired girl, and tired Tiffany gets cranky, has sad hair, and forgets to brush her teeth on occasion.

Nobody likes that.

Nobody.

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Posted in The Daily Drool

May 25

The (somewhat) Evil-ution of Love

Who saw Bridesmaids this weekend?  Well, if you haven’t, you SHOULD.  It’s hilarious, it has heart, and it has been touching a nerve with every woman I know…

Let’s back up.

When I was 20 and heartbroken in a strange city called Los Angeles, I thought I was in for a lifetime of misery… how could ANYTHING ever feel brighter or sunnier now that the color had been sapped from my world?  (I know, I know, I was a bit melodramatic)  I had no idea what was in store for me, for I had leapt head-first after an actor’s dream and was reaping the rewards; uncertainty, fun furious friendships that hardly ever (re: only twice) deepened into anything reliable, expensive surroundings, wacky adventures, and a lot – I mean A LOT – of growing the fuck up whether or not I thought I needed to.

I made some amazing friends, and I sufffered a few more amazing hertbreaks, and I kept getting on with my life… I evolved, I changed, and I turned into a 30-something year-old with a whole different perspective…  A 30-something year-old that I can honestly say that I’m pretty damn happy about being.

But the process doesn’t stop.

We are all of us continually moving.

Continually progressing (or so we hope).

And so, as a (insert previously mentioned age here) year-old, I find myself having lots of conversations about my dear friend’s husbands and babies (on one side of the coin) along with lots of conversations about my dear friend’s broken hearts and exes on the other.

Love, it seems, is also perpetually in motion… and it can shape us like no other.

And so, as I sat in the theatre this weekend watching Kristen Wig squirm under the pressure of “losing” her best friend to wedding insanity whilst her own life slid further and further down the toilet, I could not help but sympathize, shed some tears, and wax poetic about what it all means…

It seems that, when we are younger, we run headfirst into love, rubbing our happy little faces in all of its glowing glory… We dance with it, sleep next to it, and wear it on rainy days.  It seems that the world has blessed us with an impenetrable cloak of bliss.

But how do we tend to it?  Oft not as well as we should…

So often those first spells of love bear the brunt of our inexperience such that we burn it to the nubs, over-extend it, and leave with ourselves nearly ruined and wondering just how the hell something so beautiful (and seemingly invincible) had died such an ignoble death…

I think it’s only with time that we start to learn better how to care for Love when it comes… we learn our foibles, we get better at spotting the foibles of others… we try to make the most of the time between loves to grow…

So that the next time we are better, and thus better deserving, of love.

I think back over my experiences with romance and disappointment and I can see where some of the growing pains took place.  I can see some of the lessons that at the time were but a faint promise of future understanding… I can look at my heart and trace its battle scars, but also see where it is much, much stronger – and I don’t mean stronger in its ability to take abuse, I mean stronger it its ability to love.

For we’re not just learning how to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and jump back under another bus… We are learning how to better connect with the people that move us, how to hold out for the good stuff, how to better love those who love us back.

And all of this is not to infer that Bridesmaids is a trip down Chick Brain Lane- oh no… but it IS a movie about what it’s like to be a friend, what it’s like to be a woman in the world, what it means to be loved and to let yourself be loved, to love back selflessly and with grace, and what it feels like to grow the fuck up; awkward, sweaty, painful, and brilliantly (sometimes inappropriately) hilarious.

 

 

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Feb 09

Fried Chicken Smiles

I sat down to this post thinking I’d write a blanket statement on how women love to be needed… Then I reconsidered that sentiment and realized that not only could it be mightily misconstrued, but I also have no idea what applies to all of us breasted, uterussed, bipeds-  I only know what seems to apply to myself and my nearest and dearest female friends.  SO, what follows is a rambling attempt at explaining myself and hopefully some patience for what at times sounds a bit… well, silly.

For a very long time now I have been wandering around, dreaming of finding a partner that I could lean on, fall in love with, laugh my socks off with… you know, the list of “wouldn’t it be great if…”s – well, one of the things I forgot about what the sheer joy of helping that fella out when asked.  You see, I’m a team-oriented sort of gal, and I haven’t really been dating the same kind of men…  No, for some INSANE reason, I spent the majority of my youth flirting with goal-focused loners- and I’d given myself blue in the process.

But now I’m spending some quality time with a like-minded gent, a gent who appreciates the value of playing as a team, and I’m on cloud nine…  Because not only does he bring treats to my office when I’m having a bad day, but I get to bring him dinner when he’s unable to get out between work and rehearsal.  It’s a sweet little give-and-take that makes me feel, well, like part of a team.

And I already talked about how much I like that…

In any case, I think it kind of harkens back to this idea that some females have a very caring manner about us – we want to be needed and we love to be helpful… (Just don’t take us for granted!)…  We can (as is well commented on) spend HOURS talking amongst our sex about life/love, and any/all problems pertaining to any/all.  So when our fella asks us to talk through a sticky spot with him, we get all kinds of excited about it because we can exercise our linguistic genius and help soothe the woes of someone we love all at the same time.

And I’m thinking about all of this right now because I was practically vibrating from being able to make The Fella smile today with some dinner (yes, that’s the Fried Chicken reference) and chit-chat -and it was a great reminder that I’m part of a team.  I mean, I always feel that way with him, but I think that this past month I’ve been the primary recipient of the TLC due to my surgery/recovery time… and, well, today I got to be the one doing the helping.

It felt really nice to give some comfort back :)

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Posted in Dating, The Daily Drool

Jan 17

Sick-Day to Productivity Ratio

Look, I know that the point of taking a “Sick day” is to recover from whatever it is that has got you feeling crappy.  I completely understand the notion.  BUT, I’d much rather tackle tasks that are on my “have-to-do” list when I’m feeling yucky than not, because when I’m feeling great, I just want to have fun!

I think, therefore, that we should have a handful of “Fun” days on the docket every year… What a friggin’ perk!  (Oh – wait – these are called “Vacation days” aren’t they? –  sigh - Someday when I’m actually employed with benefits, I’ll know what that’s like)

Anyway…

Take this past week for instance.  I actually spent a lot of “recovery” time trying to get work done, because it was all I could do to sit at the computer and type away/catch-up on email/etc.  Now that I’m feeling better, I just want to have some FUN, but (of course) now that I am feeling better, it’s time to go back to… WORK.

Is it my creative muse that wants instead to frolic in the sunshine and read… or did I just not take full advantage of the recovery period?

Which isn’t to say I didn’t also get in a ton of video game and Tivo catch-up time in.  Because I did.  I’m just feeling… antsy for some freedom.

…Probably because my belly is still tender, and I still can’t sneeze without a miniature lightening storm occurring in my mid-section, and because the sun is shining and warm for the first time in a month…

Plus I had a lovely weekend of lunches, which whet my appetite for more “out and about” time.

Man, am I ever looking forward to being fully mended!  I’m gonna go out and dance!

*Bonus thought for the day though, yesterday I got an invitation to develop my play (Twigs and Bone) with The Inkwell - they’re going to do a reading excerpt of it at The Wooly Mammoth in March!  YAHOO!!! *

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Dec 17

Keeping Current…

I haven’t been writing much lately- for all the reasons I’ve already explained – but also because I’m negotiating the lines between “personal” and “private” living…

You see, up until very recently, the things I was most interested in discussing here were personal only to me.  Sure, I’d written some rather heart-wrenching and spittle-flying essays, but the idiot they concerned doesn’t read my blog, and even then most of what I was sharing in this cyber-forum was epiphany or self-reflected agony.

Actually, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around ;)

But lately, I’ve been floating around in a happy little bubble of romantic bliss… and I just don’t feel like airing those thoughts online… because I feel like protecting that bubble.

And because my bubble co-pilot reads my blog…

And because a lot of the thoughts I’m having about him/us/me are so ridiculously sappy that you’d probably throw up all over yourself.

(sigh)

So… while I’m floating along, I’m trying to figure out what I want to talk about in lieu of what I really want to talk about… which is Love.

But things are calming down a tad at work, and I’m approx. 5 hours away from CHRISTMAS BREAK – which, even though I’m no longer a student, I seem to have been granted because I’m really only a temporary/part time employee as far as the “Official” check-writers are concerned… and they’d rather just not pay me whilst the students are away.

And although I could use the cashola, I’m pretty damn happy to have two weeks off for WRITING, photographing, SLEEPING THE EFF IN, and cuddling with my honey.

I’ve still got that “Eulogy for a Squirrel” post that I keep teasing you about…  But after all the hype, I’m going to have to use some of my dedicated writing time to really make that monster shine!

Because you deserve it.  You deserve to show up here and see something silly, something (more or less) unexpected…. You deserve to have something more thought/smile provoking than my recent “This is why I’m NOT writing much” crap -fare.

So hang in here with me… I promise, I’m going to come back strong :)

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Dec 13

It’s SNOWING!

Okay… maybe I can’t have real snow yet… MAYBE the midwest has to HAVE IT ALL TO THEMSELVES (the greedy/frozen little twits!)  But at least I can make it snow on my blog!

Who’s in the Christmas spirit?

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here yet, but this is the first Christmas in three years that I’ve had money coming in steadily enough to actually afford some presents without undue stress…

So what did I do about it?

I adhered to the “Something for Mom, Something for me… Something for Brother?  Something for ME” school of thought.

YUCK.

Not that I went hog wild with it, but I definitely did more damage than I would have, had I held myself to higher standards.  (sigh) At least I’m doing my fiscal duty and helping to buoy the national economy, one discount robe at a time.

In any regard, we’re hosting out Christmas celebratations a tad early in order to accomodate my brother’s “Christmas afar” (Chicago with his girlfriend) and I’m taking suggestions on how we should spend Christmas day, since we’ll already have eaten and unwrapped ourselves to a gluttonous ruin by then.

Black Swan anyone?  WILL IT EVER GET TO PRESCOTT?

Speaking of, if you’re in the mood for more distractions this Monday, I suggest you check out FallOutGirl’s most recent post… Ballarina or Waitress? In the season of giving/getting/and bitching about both, this post articulates the difference between expectation/want and the cold hard reality of “getting what you asked for” when you’re a tot-ballerina…

Till next we meet, enjoy the SNOW!

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Dec 11

Wallet Bliss

I don’t know what I’ve been thinking…

For the past, oh, I’d say… five?  six?… years or so I’ve been using an Italian change purse as my wallet.  I had it all nice and stuffed with every card I might need, plus my cash, and a host of coinage.

It took me FOREVER to find anything inside this pell-mell system, as there weren’t any pockets or dividers… It was seriously just one, smallish, zippered pocket of insanity!

And I felt a bit of Italy was with me as I toted this coin purse wallet from day to day to day…

Until the zipper broke.

Then I got sad.

And stubborn.

I continued to use it even though it didn’t close and now ran the risk of all my stuffed-in-there-goodies spilling all over my purse.

I imagined myself fixing the zipper and all being well… I mean, I got it in ITALY!  I couldn’t give up that little daily reminder that I had been there, I had eaten there, I had bought myself a coin purse there!

But I never fixed it, and the memory got a little less important, when compared to the frustration of my stuff slipping around my purse ad nauseam!

Until last weekend.

When I bought a real wallet.

From Target.

(cue chorus)

Guess what?  It’s super easy to find things when you have a slot for every card and dollar bill!

WHAT have I been THINKING?

Everytime I pull out my wallet now, I am amazed at the ease of locating things.  I am relieved of the anxiety that came from the “Express” check out line check-out, because it won’t take me 2 minutes to find my debit card.

(sigh)

It’s a small thing, but sometimes these mini-revelations can change your whole day…

Sometimes, the way you’re used to doing things is really a whole lot more complicated and annoying than trying something new…

Now what else have I got stuffed to the gills with the “past” that I can renovate?

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Dec 07

Playing Catch Up…

Sooooo, this is what happens when people get all snuggly and wrapped up in each other… They IGNORE EVERYTHING ELSE?!

I mean, not that I’ve really been “ignoring” everything per se, it’s just that the things on my list suddenly don’t seem quite as important as they did.

And I’m sure it will all mellow out into something a bit more reasonable here soon (I mean, can one really sustain this much enthusiasm for too long?) but really, I’m just like this silly, happy, floating girl who keeps looking at her list and shrugging her shoulders.  I’m nowhere near my hyper-manic, super-prepared-before-the-deadline-approaches, self.

And, I’m totally okay with that, haha.

But I think it’s interesting, this foggy, doped up feeling of contentment…. I think it’s interesting because it’s been SO LONG since I’ve felt it.  (From myself or the handsome face staring back at me)

And it’s got me realizing just how dysfunctional my last “relationship” was.  I mean, there I was, handing my heart to a man who didn’t really want it – just the box that held it – and I didn’t understand it.  I couldn’t walk away from it… I was totally, hopelessly mired in the confusion of it all.

And it SUCKED.

But I can’t completely regret that particularly heartbreaking ride… because it helped lead me here.

And here is like a bright, sunshiney DAY to that dark, painful night.

But what is it in women that leads us to want to give so much away?  I’m not the first (nor will I be the last) woman to sell herself short in the hopes of it all somehow working out…

Is it a disease?  Do we watch too many movies where the “Bad Boy” has a change of heart, realizes what a Cad he’s been, and suddenly, miraculously (and impossibly) becomes the man she always thought he could be?  Or do we just give up?  Give in to what’s around us and succumb to the “average” – which seems to be mediocrity x 1000 – all because we don’t believe that anything better will find us?

I don’t know.

I’ve lived it, and I can’t explain it to you.

All I can say is that after last year, I had a pretty firm hold on both, A – just how reckless I had been with my heart, and B – that I absolutely wasn’t going to do it again.

I felt different.

I felt weathered, and fatigued, but I also felt steadfast.

And I ran up against a vision of the kind of man I had been chasing, and I laughed.

Out. Loud.

And I kept going.

And here I am now, dancing in the moonlight with someone pretty awesome…

And no, I’ve no idea what comes next – but I’m pretty damn certain it’s nowhere I’ve been before.

And that, my friend, is something worth singing about :)

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Posted in The Daily Drool

Nov 22

My visit to the Zoo

Look, LA has been fun, but I’m ready to head home.

I’m just sitting here, writing this blog post about it while I wait for the LA traffic to chill the eff out so I can leave without it taking me four hours to get passed city limits…

The reading went soooo well.  It got cancelled on Saturday, which was a bummer (Rain!  RAIN in LA… the weekend of our outdoor show… of course.)  The actors and director did SUCH a great job, and I was just thrilled as punch at their work.  Also, everyone said nice, congratulatory things to me afterwards, which always makes a playwright glow :)

And I got to catch up with a lot of friends this weekend… especially since Saturday opened up the way it did.  I really enjoyed checking in with everyone and hearing what they were up to, and drinking too much wine and laughing till my sides hurt.

Because really that’s what LA has come to be for me… a grand and wild zoo that houses some of my nearest and dearest.

It was great to see everyone, but I’m ready to leave the concrete and bars behind…

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Posted in The Daily Drool

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