Ring out the old, Ring in the New

Oh blog, it's been a while. Here are some of the highlights of my year:

Favorite Film: The Fountain

Runners-up: Children of Men, Little Children, The Departed, Stephanie Daley, Blood Diamond, Casino Royale
(some which have potential for above but which I haven't seen yet: Pan's Labyrinth, Babel, Half Nelson

Guilty Pleasure: X-Men 3

Worst: The Grudge 2, Pirates of the Caribbean 2, Lady in the Water

Favorite TV Shows: Six Feet Under on DVD, The Office (both British and American)

Runner-up: Grey's Anatomy

Guilty Pleasure: Joan of Arcadia on DVD

Best Theatrical Events: The Little Foxes, The Light in the Piazza

Runners-up: Bedroom Farce, Twelfth Night, Seascape, Angels Unaware

Favorite Book: The History of Love by Nicole Krauss


And let’s not forget some lovely experiences. Jobs: Working at the BYU Bookstore and learning to hate it. Working at Apx Alarm Systems doing data entry—I earned a lot of money and it was mighty boring. But I did answer some calls using dialects, and at least I didn’t hate it like I hated the bookstore. I hope I never have to buy anything from the bookstore again, I don’t want to give them my business. And it was fun to see how much we could get away with at APX. Oh summer jobs. T.A.ing is the best job I’ve ever had. My 4 classes this year have been great learning experiences.

Worst roommate ever: Evanesce. Yikes. She broke some windows after I left. It’s true.

I’ve only been three places outside of Utah this year: Malad, Idaho, New York, and California. I wouldn’t mind living in Northern California one bit, no siree. Getting to know my aunt and uncle in San Francisco better was so nice. New York City kind of gives me anxiety, but only because I fear moving there and failing miserably.

Sundance Film Festival: the best way to do this experience is having an In and going the last day to see all the award winners when everybody has left. Except then there are no celebrities or camaraderie, which is half the fun.

Theatrical fun of the year: Little Foxes was the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve done. I was so frustrated, but loved that show so much. I think it’s going to be a long time before I’m part of something I love so much again. The people involved mean so much to me, friendships grew, I grew. Personally and as an actor. More family saw it than any other show I’ve done. It provided the most meaningful mother-daughter moment of my life. I was so invested, it’s hard to let go of that group of people. We’ve shared so much with each other.

Twelfth Night was barrels of fun, I love that group so much. Goodbye to Young Company. I spent three years with it and it’s helped me through some hard times. I think Greatest Hits was the show that was the most fun to do, but van times with Chris was the best part of Young Company. Though nothing beats the emotional support Christy has given me this semester. Heads in the hula-hoop game, craziness and bum-grabbing backstage, hugs and backrubs, never-ending sold out Nelke performances, the first year on the season (leading to ACTF), van games (the crying game and the eye opening game), Chris trying to make me laugh during the Ophelia crazy scene onstage, singing in the van, being a tragic hero.

Much Ado—I was sad to not be in Angels Unaware, but I made some great friends because of Much Ado whom I would never have met otherwise. And I love that I was in a show at PTC before it hit its troubles. Dancing during intermission in the green room, totally losing it onstage and trying to hold in laughter while I should have been singing, film talk during pre-show, improv games, uncomfortable words, uncomfortable men, the pasty white club.

Playing with the Thrillionaires has been great fun. I really love being a part of that group. It’s funny to think how much anxiety it used to give me and how relaxed about it I am now. Huzzah for long-form improv. Thank you Jake and Maclain.

Biggest Disappointments/Trials of the Year: Hamlet has been the hardest, Little Foxes not going to ACTF, boys, Angels Unaware, no Castle show for me, no Europe

Goals for 2007:

Get into a graduate program I love
Go to the gym at least 4 times a week
Read my scriptures every day
Don't fall apart after I graduate
Road trip to Seattle/San Francisco?
Date
Take a photography class
Improve my wardrobe so I enjoy wearing my clothes
Make friends wherever I end up by next December
Get a great summer job (Heritage?)
Keep in touch with my incredible Provo friends
Develop some quality self-confidence

This coming year kind of frightens me. I have absolutely no idea where I will be by the end of this year. 7 is my lucky number so hopefully this will be my year... I do feel like I have revolutionized myself a wee bit this past year. I look kind of different, I have been workng on a gradual makeover for myself just so that I am more confident in my physical appearance at least. I have started going to the gym regularly (thanks to Slate). I have started to read my scriptures daily (I confess, this is the first time in my life I've done such a thing, so I'm pretty proud of myself). I have been shockingly honest with somene in a very vulnerable way. I have become Much more daring acting-wise as well, several people told me how impressed they were with this seemingly different Laura after my auditions final. I've put a lot of work into acting this year and I think that it shows. Auditions has made me a different actor. This year has also given me some Incredible friends. Seriously, I don't know what I would have done this year without Slate, Michelle, Christy, Jenny, Jennie, and Lauren. Some of the most supportive people I know. I owe a lot to them. And I have loved living so close to the Thomasons so that I could spend more time with all of them.

It's been a very challenging year, but one that I needed in order to face this next one I am sure. This coming year holds a lot of change in it, a lot of uncertainty. I'm scared, I don't know how I'll react, how I'll cope, how things will turn out. But there's nothing else to do but plunge forward, so plunge forward I will.

Here's to 2006, and to the future.

And my life is revolving around... Theatre

Well my resolution to improve my blogging frequency has failed miserably. Before the semester started I thought I would have more time than usual this semester-- I'm taking a smaller number of classes than usual. But as it turns out, surprise surprise, I'm really busy. So I apologize to any of you who are really interested in my life. Catherine emailed me and asked me what was going on with me, which I so appreciate. Thank you for being interested.

So here's my semester: I'm in two plays, taking two 'traditional' classes, and T.A.ing two classes. The plays give me class credit, so I have a normal amount of credits. I'm out of the house from 9 AM to 11 PM every day except for Thursday, and that usually only gives me two free hours between classes, which is often when I work with students. For the last two weeks I didn't even have that because Twelfth Night was running in the Nelke so I had to use those two hours to grab a bite to eat and get ready for the show. This is why nobody except people I talk to here in Provo know what is going on in my life.

This semester is kicking my butt. In a good way, but it's still happening. I'm taking this class, 'Auditions'. It's the most challenging acting class I've ever taken. I wasn't expecting what it is. I'm learning a ton and this class is so good for me, but I just wonder why some of this stuff isn't used in earlier classes, spread out a little bit, so perhaps we wouldn't feel so overloaded? This class is two hours, three times a week. There are eight students. We work on six monologues and two songs. And very new and different ideas are being introduced for us to use in these pieces. Now they're not completely new to everyone, people who have worked with Laurie, the professor, before have worked with these ideas already a bit. But I've worked mostly with Barta, never Laurie. Laurie is SO DIFFERENT. Let me tell you, these classes usually drain me for the entire day. They're kind of intense. Especially when you're working on a dramatic piece. It's like I've been stripped of everything I thought I knew about myself and my acting abilities and have been given different legs to walk with which I don't entirely know how to use. It's great.

Not only do I work with Laurie during Auditions, but she's also directing my senior project, Little Foxes. This is the hardest character I have ever had to play. I have been so frustrated. In the words of Barta: "every choice Laura would make will be wrong for Birdie." This character is so foreign to me. I have felt like I couldn't do anything right. I have felt emotionally stripped. In the last few days I have felt like I've been making some little steps toward the right place, but I'm not even halfway there and we have tech in a week and a half. I am kind of freaking out. Laurie gives me some bizarre directions, which I've struggled with. But I totally trust her, she's just completely different than anyone else I've worked with before. For example: "In this scene I'd like you to pretend you're conducting an orchestra." or "Pretend you're in a big field of huge dandelions." or "Play this scene like you're two years old." Honestly, I feel bad for her because I have been resisting like crazy, I just don't even know what to do with myself. And I know pulling things out of people is tiring, and Laurie has been giving so much for me. I have so much farther to go, I hope I can get there.

Everyone else in the cast is so great. Honestly, I am so honored to be in the same project with these people. I try to do homework when I'm not onstage but it is so fascinating just to watch these people. And some of them have so much passion for this piece, it's inspiring. I think I'm resisting being totally drawn into it because it's painful. I mean, I am playing an abused wife, so it's understandable that it would be painful, but I'm kind of surprised that I have resisted throwing myself into it. I feel like usually I'm pretty gung ho about theatre. I don't think I have really realized that's what I've been doing, like I just expected the performance to come without really sacrificing for it. I know I've been a little drained, what with Auditions and Twelfth Night, but I really hope to submerge myself now. I have to, these days are just going by so quickly. I'm scared I'm not going to get there before tech. I'm really scared about that.

No project has given me as much anxiety as Little Foxes has. I guess that's why it's my senior project. I'm being stretched SO much. To the point of tears, on several occasions.

Twelfth Night's run in the Nelke is done. I am so glad. I loved performing for adults, who got all the jokes in the dialogue and responded to them, (not that I don't love to perform for the children), but it was exhausting to go straight from classes to that to Little Foxes rehearsal. Our run for Twelfth Night was over two weeks, and all of our performances sold out so quickly! None of us expected this. They added a third show to our last saturday and added a week run in December. Wow, huzzah for Young Company. And I love my cast. I really love them. Young Company has given me so much in the past two years, I am so happy to be a part of it. It is so great to be able to just get away from everything every Tuesday, spend time with awesome people, and introduce kids to Shakespeare. I love it.

And T.A.ing is great. A challenge, but so rewarding. The professor for both classes (Intermediate Acting and Acting for Classics) is Stephanie (Foster) Breinholt (since Barta is out for the semester), and it's been great to see how she works. I've never been in a class taught by her, and I'm learning a lot. It's nice to be on the sameish side of the table as her, being the T.A. I also get to do scenes in Acting for Classics since there's an odd number, so I get to be coached by her too.

I'm also continuing with Thrillionaires Improvised Theatre Troupe. I play pretty much every Monday with them, and we have practices on Tuesday during my one and only break of the day. I also am taking voice lessons on Mondays, so time is pretty crunched. I'm taking with Korianne who was in Nunsense with Catherine and who I love. She's helping me a lot. I just wish I had more time to practice.

So my life this semester pretty much revolves around theatre, there's really nothing much else to talk about, but I could go on forever about any of my classes so I'll stop now.

I have a lot that I intend to say...

But for now, I'll just say that the first week of school was IMMENSELY stressful. But things have cooled off for now, and I'm enjoying low-key days before T.A.ing really sets in. Though I'm learning how to listen Laurie-style and it's really hard for me.

I thought you may enjoy some pictures of Twelfth Night. These are all of the production shots that were taken, so many of them are very similar. And my dress still needed some final adjustments at the time, so it doesn't look the greatest. Alright, disclaiming aside, here they are:

http://photo.byu.edu/markImages/2006/0608-84%20TMA%20Twelfth%20Night%20pr/index.html

"For the rain it raineth every day."

As a friend left the apartment today, she said "Have a good first day of school tomorrow!" And I realized, tomorrow could be my last first day of school in September which, for most of my life, has meant Back-To-School. A bit of panic bloomed within and I fear this panic will not go away, but will be a part of my ever increasingly anxious senior year. What if I don't get into a graduate school? That is so possible. Honestly, I am so terrified of what my life is going to be come April. And this is the beginning of the end.

I Love acting. Notice that capital L, it was on purpose. And I know that this is what I am supposed to be doing. But away from my safe haven of a school I don't know what is going to happen, where I'm going to go, how I'll make ends meet and totally support myself for the first time in my life when I have hated every job I've ever had except T.A.ing. These are questions most people have to face, and I know I'll get through it, but it's scary. If I got into grad school I would have a plan. But I can't just deny the fact that for girls my age it is terribly difficult to get accepted anywhere. I have to be prepared for making my own way somewhere.

Growing up, I always imagined that when I graduated from college I'd be married. I do not want to do this on my own.

But after these admissions and dwellings, what do I do? Well, I'll need to work on gaining some confidence in myself this coming year. Confidence while I'm at school is manageable at the moment, but confidence beyond that is very uncertain. And I know, what else can I do but keep working. As always, I will turn to what I can do. I'll focus on acting. Nothing else (except friends and family which are clearly imperative to my life) will fit into my schedule right now. And at least I know how to work on that if nothing else.

"And the light is softly low as our hearts become sweetly untied..."

I forgot to mention how the Palace was perfect for imagining I was in The Light in the Piazza...

In this age of the internet we can see pictures of practically anything in the world. But some things really do surpass a picture or any expectation. Michelangelo's David, for example, far surpassed what I had imagined him to be like. I almost didn't go see him in Florence because I'd seen pictures and thought that was probably sufficient, and the line to get into that museum can get very long. But he was truly magnificent in person. Indescribable, you know? You just have to see him for yourself. The Redwoods, on the other hand, didn't quite live up to my imagination. But the Golden Gate Bridge triggered an unexpected reaction: I loved it. I think it is so beautiful, and it is so different seeing it in person than on a postcard. I can't really specify a reason for loving it so much, I just know that I did. Boats were out, we saw some real-life crabs, looked at creepy Alcatraz, and took a foot-shot. Taking pictures of my feet is something I like to do when I travel, adopted from Sylvia. Just a picture of me being some place, from my point of view, my feet solidly planted in some place that I'm loving. They're just pictures of me being somewhere.

This day was gorgeous, as you can tell. Blue skies, blue water, plenty of sun but not hot. San Francisco weather is weather that I like. We found the beautiful path to get up to where we could walk across the bridge. Here's something that really struck me and which I love about San Francisco: how the city and nature are so interconnected, entwined. In a lot of cities I feel like nature has been pushed out, like our mighty metropolises will be made weaker or less functional if we allow nature to remain where it naturally belongs; we must conquer it and cover it with pavement. Now of course I'm describing an extreme here and our cities do always have some trees, some flowers, some parks. But San Francisco feels like the people are living more in nature than most cities I've been in. The trees there don't look like they've been strategically planted where they won't bother anyone or inhibit our businesses, that's just where they grow. Gardens are nurtured throughout the city, huge (some people would say inconvenient) hills are embraced-- these challenges to building and living are celebrated and are an integral part of the city's identity. Nature is clearly very important to the inhabitants there. It reminded me of Edinburgh in that way; right smack in the middle of Edinburgh, another delightfully hilly city, is Holyrood Park which includes this HUGE hill with Arthur's Seat at the top. It's this wonderful highland landscape within the city. Accordingly, San Francisco has Telegraph Hill, which I would visit our second S.F. day. And of course I'm not even mentioning the water, wind, and sky which are a presence in San Francisco.

Walking up to the bridge we encountered some tunnels which clearly beckoned to us. Yes, they were roped off, did that stop us? They turned out to be old batteries from war days. And how could we resist taking some Jumping pictures with the Golden Gate. I love jumping pictures, which is something adopted from Stephanie Breinholt. They just look so free and joyful. You have to jump in places that you love, places that make you feel how you look: so enraptured and happy that you cannot be rooted to the earth.

After walking across the bridge, which is not as good as gazing at it in my opinion but you have to have some direct personal interaction with it, and not in a car, we drove across it.

In "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggers (which mostly takes place in San Francisco), he describes this drive:

"The bridge ends, the torn cotton clouds breaking up immediately, then it's clear, Easter blue, and we're on 101, but just for a second -- two exits and then we get off at Alexander, then come back under 101 and up the Headlandsdrive. As we climb with the road, right away above the Golden Gate, the clouds are suddenly below us, rolling through the bridge, fleece pulled through a harp.

Toph and I keep going up the hill because you have to go up to get to Black Sands, first straight up the hill, the road winding in and out, past all the tourists stopped for the view, looking down on the Golden Gate, and every time we double back toward the bridge, the view, biblical, presents itself, the view where one sees Treasure Island, and Alcatraz, then all ofRichmond, El Cerrito, Berkeley, and Oakland and then the Bay Bridge, then the white jagged seashells of downtown, the Golden Gate, blood red, then therest of the city, the Presideio, the avenues--

But we keep going, and as the road continues, winding up, the cars thin out,and at the very top of the hill/mountain, there are only a few sightseers left, and they are turning arond to go back down, three-point turning right at that WWII-era tunnel at the top, because it certainly seems like the road ends, right there, at the top of that hill--

But then the road continues, and there is a gate, a flimsy metal gate, right there, and it is open, it's probably always open. We keep going, not slowing...

The road, now a one-way, heads straight for the water, and it looks for about twenty seconds like we're going to go straight over...so we go slow, then the road starts bending right, and then down, and in a second we're driving parallel to the water, a few hundred feet up of course, for a while without even a visible cliffside to the left, just a sheer drop -- and then suddenly we see the Headlands whole, green and mohair hills, ocher velour,the sleeping lions, the lighthouse far to the left, unbelievable given we're ten minutes from the city, this vast bumpy land, could be Ireland or Scotland or the Falklands or wherever, and we snake down, with the road bending back and forth along the cliffside...lookee here, ha ha, look at this!"

The gate at the top was closed, but I got out and headed to the top on foot. On the way up I stepped off the road, pushed some branches aside, and looked off the edge toward the west and the lighthouse. It was such a view, and I felt like I was one of few people to have seen it. At the top there were these empty building which looked like they were built for birds? I don't know, but the view was incredible. I kind of wished it had been a cloudy/foggy day so we could see the clouds around the bridge, but I was also glad we got such a nice day as we did.

I wanted to stay there longer, or find the road I could see winding its way toward the lighthouse, but we had tickets to The Glass Menagerie that night at Berkeley Rep and we had to get dinner first. So we headed back down the hill and to the east to Sausilito. (Do you hear the pepperidge farms commercial for Sausilito cookies when you read that word, because I do.) Sausilito felt golden. It's got the Italian Riviera feel to it. We were in a bit of a rush, but still walked down the street next to the water in our perusings of restaurants. We ended up at this cafe which was open to the air and provided us with the best pizza Beth has ever tasted. It was Good.

I don't know how people who live in this area ever feel like they're not on vacation. It felt enlightened, paradisical. After living there, how could anyone live someplace like Utah? Not that Utah doesn't have its own beauties, but San Francisco is just an incredible blend of wide open blue skies and water with an infusion of golden light, delicious fog, verdant growing things, culture, hippie influences, and the great outdoors verging on the city. I understand why it's so expensive to live there, it's unlike anyplace else I've ever been.

We had to be on our way to Berkeley, but almost on the way was Lombard Street, the windiest street in the world. We really shouldn't have taken the time to drive down it because we were definitely cutting it close, but how could we not. And yes, we were late to the show, which has never happened to me before. I seriously thought they weren't going to let us in and that we would have wasted $30, and I was feeling really sick about it, but they answered our hopeful knocks. And there was another couple who were late and they showed us into the back of the theatre after the first scene. It was so nice to be seeing professional theatre again. It was really well done, not life-changing, but enjoyable. I've never actually fully read or seen this play, so I felt educated.

We dragged our weary feet home and fell into bed.

The next day we headed up to the Redwoods. First we drove through wine country, which was lovely in a golden way. I wished we had time to drive through Napa Valley or something, but getting to the Redwoods is quite a drive in itself. It was really enjoyable though, I drove most of the way up and winding through trees and mountains is fun. We saw some weird hippie stores on the way which was delightful. I really did enjoy the tree-hugging feeling; I certainly don't go to the extreme that a lot of people do, but it was nice to feel surrounded by people who had similar earth-loving feelings that I have.

The first thing we did was drive through a tree. It was definitely not as cool as I had imagined it would be. I guess my imagination is just too powerful because the redwoods did not live up to it. The forests were certainly beautiful and peaceful, and I Loved just being in a true forest again, but I did not feel dwarfed like I had been expecting. As soon as we could, we hopped out of the car and started hiking through the redwoods. Our destination had been the Avenue of Giants, but we weren't really sure when we were there, so in our enthusiasm we actually got out of the car a little too soon and spent a long time hiking in a forest of not particularly impressive redwoods. Well, the first 15 minutes were impressive, (I am standing in a tree here), but then we just hiked a looong time in regular trees. We just kept thinking, well we've got to be close to the top, after this hill we'll get there and then we can have a great view and head back. But after every last stretch, there was another one. It was hot, I didn't have enough unfrozen water, and there were TONS of mosquitos.

"From golden gate to roaring cliff-side..."

The week before we went to CA I would constantly get suggestions from random people on where I had to go. When I went in to get an oil change for my car a teenage employee relaxing behind the desk heard the man helping me mention that I was going to California, and though he had previously been silent, he immediately piped up that I had to go to the boardwalk at Santa Cruz. It was on our way to Monterey, so why not? When we arrived, the clouds suddenly disappeared, as if they'd never been, and we were surrounded by sunburnt swimwearing vacationers strolling around barefoot, whiling away the hours along the shore. The boardwalk was not exactly what I'd been expecting... it wasn't a boardwalk. There were no boards to walk on, just cement. It was like a mini amusement park along the beach. A very noisy, pricey, sticky amusement park crowded with kids running headlong towards anything that lit up and made noise. Well, I wasn't too impressed, but still told myself "it's one of the oldest boardwalks in America, you can at least appreciate that." Beth had never been on a ferris wheel, so to the wheel we went. We then stole a ride on the historic carousel, which I enjoyed. After that, we decided there was nothing left but to walk through the surf back to the car and continue on our journey.

Have I mentioned how exhausted we are at this point, the beginning of our trip? Unfortunately none of us had had enough sleep upon leaving Provo. Well, we're just in the mood to find a sunny spot of beach and sleep for an hour or two. Sadly, as soon as we left Santa Cruz, the sun left too and it was a bit chilly to be sleeping outside. We ended up driving the 17-mile drive at Monterey and soon ransacking the trunk of the car for anything that would aid in our sleeping endeavors. Beth's sleeping bag, Emily's blanket, and our respective jackets woud have to be enough. I have found that catching a nap somewhere will connect me with a place. It may sound weird, but after my Europe experience with Logan and Sylvia where we caught cat naps everywhere we went, I learned that I feel closer to a place if I've slept there. Or at least just sat and pondered there. So sleeping by the Pacific sounded great to me. The 17-mile drive is this drive which you have to pay to get into, and so there were hardly anyone on the beaches-- not to mention that it was kind of cold to be at the beach... So we had this pocket of sand all to ourselves. We climbed onto a big rock, laid out the sleeping bag and blanket, snuggled up, and napped, lulled by the waves. An hour flew by, and it was time to be going. The 17-mile drive is home to some outrageously expensive houses, the Lone Cypress, and seals (sea lions? I still don't know the difference.) If you look closely at the picture above, you can see a seal looking at you. They camouflage well.

By this point Beth is in love with the cypress trees.

We drove through Cannery Row a few times, but parking is ridiculous, so we eat elsewhere and return to grab some Starbucks later. I did not want to leave Starbucks. The drive home sounded unbearable, and I wasn't even the one who had to drive. Cannery Row looked so lovely and inviting. Starbucks always makes me feel comfortable, no matter where in the world it is. For some weird reason I always feel at home there and I love it.

We finally made it back home to the cats and books and hideaway bed.

We didn't make it out that early the next morning, which was a San Francisco day. Our first stop was the Palace of Fine Arts. We were loosely following an itinerary Logan had made for me because Logan knows what I like better than a lot of people. But first we got a wee bit lost (a common theme in our trip) and we drove around some really nice neighborhood for a while. I was really glad we did this time because we saw some beautiful San Franciscan streets. I again wished for the eyeball cameras because I was driving and couldn't take pictures. Honestly, gorgeous streets here where every house was in the same style but delightfully unique. We saw a parking spot so decided to just park and walk to the Palace. As soon as we got out we discovered the daunting stairs we'd be descending (and ultimately ascending), but did that stop us? Surprisingly no. You really can't see them in this picture to the right, just trust me, there were a ton of them. We were greeted by a truly beautiful view of the view though. Do you see that dome in the distance in the picture on the left? That was our destination. Straight downhill.


On our way, we caught our first view of the Golden Gate. It actually sent a thrill through me, Anne Shirley style.

Well, the walk was totally worth it, the Palace of Fine Arts is just a place that's beautiful, basically, it's not the art museum. It was built for a fair a looong time ago, meant to be torn down once the fair was over, but people liked it so much they decided to leave it. It looks Greek, and it is just one of those places I immediately love. We trudged back up the hills, and had very friendly encounters with non-tourists. I must say, people in San Francisco were really nice. The hippie influence? There were a few flowers painted on the stairs... Anyway, not fakey like I sometimes feel Utahns are, and just genuinely really nice and easygoing. I think I would love living there for a while...

"And the road a-winding goes..."

A couple of years ago I found myself repeatedly playing this game called Ten Fingers. In this game you say something you’ve never done, and everyone else who has done said thing puts a finger down. The winner/loser is ultimately the person who has experienced the least. This can be a good thing or bad thing, depending on who you are and what your fellow players are claiming they’ve never done. I was repeatedly the winner/loser, and I didn’t like that one bit. I’d never been to Disneyland/world, I’d never been the female lead in a show, I’d never been in a relationship, I’d never been to California. I felt like I hadn’t Lived. Since then I think I’ve been through a lot of good and bad, and though I’m still very inexperienced in some aspects I’ve conquered some of those Nevers in the past couple of years.

California is one of those Nevers that I’ve been trying to drive off to for a while. I’ve planned on going before just to have my fellow planner drop out on me. Well sometime during Winter semester, my friend Emily and I were lying on the Slab and she mentioned how she had never been to California and she’d always wanted to take off there, and I said “Me too, let’s go!” So we did. And my lovely roommate Beth came too. Three girls from New York, Pennsylvania, and Texas who’d never seen the Pacific had nothing else exciting planned for the summer. Honestly, I was dying to get out of Utah (I’ve been here all year, and won’t get away again until Christmas). I reasoned that this would absolutely be the best time to go. Who knows if I’ll live this far west again? I don’t have anyone dependent on me, I’ve got the time, and I have an Aunt and Uncle who live right outside of San Francisco, our destination of choice. (From my Ireland trip last summer I learned not to tackle too large of a geographical area at once, and to spend more time out of a car than in it, experiencing a place through the windows of a car is not satisfying.)

So early Tuesday morning, three very sleepy but excited girls piled into a car and we put the sun to our backs. It was a 13 hour drive, and things were going great. I quite enjoyed driving through the salt flats, it’s surreal and I was delighted to find a piece of modern art created by another man who was inspired by the surreality: Karl Momen, a Swedish artist, created the Tree of Utah. “A hymn to our universe, whose glory and dimension is beyond all myth and imagination.” Further along, people had written messages on the side of the road with rocks, and I was tempted to stop and create my own, but resisted. Nevada was Boring. But at least the road was straight and flat.




So far Beth had been sleeping in the back, but we woke her up to take the wheel and we crossed the border into California. The moment we did, the landscape was suddenly Gorgeous.We careened through mountaineous ranges of pines and pockets of sparkling lakes to the strains of "California" by Phantom Planet as loud as we could bear it. By some town in California there was this huge statue of a man bending down with a bowl, and I was the only one that saw it. I wasn't quick enough to take a picture, but I wish I had, it was really cool, and kind of random.

We made it to Oakland before the sun set, but promptly became very lost and very frustrated. We were all quite tired and were only too ready to find our destination: my Uncle Nick's and Aunt Jayne's house. We finally broke down and Beth went into a Safeway to get a map while I called my Uncle, admitting defeat. We were actually quite close, and in minutes we were finding a parking spot on this delightfully hilly, windy road crowded with houses. The neighbourhood cats followed us to the house. As they would continue to do every day when we dragged our weary feet to our temporary home in the middle of the night.

In general, I don't know my relatives well at all. Specifically, I didn't remember ever meeting my Aunt and Uncle, though I'm sure I have sometime years ago. Yes, I felt really awkward, but when do I not when I'm making small talk with people I don't know. I immediately liked them and loved their house. Books were everywhere. And then I looked into the study and literally half of the room was inaccessible because it was filled with PILES of books. Heavenly. I wish I'd taken a picture. These were obviously kindred spirits. I've never felt so immediately related to anyone else in my family. After chatting for a while my aunt, uncle, and cousin Aleck retired to their beds while the three of us planned for the next day. I fell asleep gazing at a huge, varied, incredible film collection sandwiched between more books.

On Wednesday we arose bright and early and drove south to Monterey. Devil's Slide was sadly closed due to cleaning up from winter's storms, but driving along the coast south of that along Route 1 was lovely. Our first stop: Pidgeon Point Lighthouse. My first lighthouse ever. The day was overcast, thrillingly foggy, and delightfully cool. Ideal weather for the summer, in my opinion. At times cool, but warming up quite nicely at other times. Definitely preferable to the current, stifling heat wave here in Utah. The lighthouse also housed a hostel. It all reminded me very much of Ireland. I soon decided that living on the California coast for a year would not be the worst thing in the world. We couldn't go to the top of the lighthouse, and so, alas, I could not re-enact "Candle on the Water" from Pete's Dragon. Another time. After wandering around, looking at seabirds and waves, we hopped back into the car. We passed an ollaliberry farm, but I was not quick enough to stop. Luckily, there was soon a U-Pick Strawberry farm, which turned out to be owned by the same people, and they sold their ollaliberry shortcake and pie there as well. We picked some strawberries for the road, ate ollaliberry shortcake, Beth revelled in the posters on the wall of the United Farm Workers Association. What are ollaliberries, you ask? Um, I'm not sure, but they look like big blackberries, and they're yummy.
One of my favorite things about this roadtrip is that there were three of us. We could do what we wanted, when we wanted to do it. Our only rule was that when you saw a sign or a road that you wanted to pursue and explore, vocalize that impulse and we'd do it. Hence the lighthouse, ollaliberries and strawberries, and historical general store. We continued on our way to Santa Cruz...

I never do this

but I'm going to write about someone specific in my blog. I am only doing this because it's all so outrageous that I can't believe it's my life, this person seriously is a movie character who stepped out of the silver screen right into the bedroom around the corner from me. Lucky me.

Let's call her Evanesce. Right from the introduction, kind of unbelievable, right? We haven't interacted much, but here's what I know:

She is very proud of her car. She refers to her car not as her car, but as her BMW. Why is someone who owns a BMW living in my gross house? On the day she moved in, Beth asked her, "is that your truck in the driveway?" (She was blocked in and needed to get out). "Oh no, that is NOT my car, I borrowed it to move and my BMW will be here tomorrow." She was very clear with us about the truck not being her car. Now we have a driveway which only one car fits in, if you park behind that car, the first car will be blocked in, which is a little bothersome. Therefore, the house rule is first come first served and everyone else parks in the parking lot right next to the house. It has worked very well. But this system is not good enough for Evanesce. She insists she wants to adhere to whatever we're doing now, but her BMW is consistently parked behind whoever is in the driveway and Beth must continuously ask her to move it at 4 in the morning when she goes to work. Her BMW is obviously too good for anywhere but the driveway, no matter who it inconveniences.

From the moment she moved in I have felt like I must be a revoltingly filthy person. She has made comments repeatedly about how we need to keep the house very CLEAN. I assure you, I am not, in fact, revoltingly filthy. But she makes me feel like I must be. She is anal about cleaning. My reaction? Live and let live, be as clean as you want and I will make sure that I respect that we live in the same space and not be inconsiderate of you, but I am a busy person and I will leave a dish in the sink from time to time, and my room can be as messy as I want it to be.

She wipes the toilet down with alcohol every time she uses it and hints that she would like us to do the same. Fat chance.

She spends a lot of the time in the bathroom and is scrupulously specific about how she looks.

She locks her bedroom door whenever she leaves it.

She is extremely skinny with long hair, latino, and I'm guessing she's thirty-something. Just so you can get a picture of her in your head.

Now I figure that we're only living together for a month and a half, and I am out of the house most of the day, so it's unlikely that we would have major problems. As I said, I live and let live. No, I may not be uber-friendly and ask all about her life, but I'm not mean either.

But I do like my sleep, and I do keep odd hours. I work until midnight every day, that means I never get to bed before 1 or 2, and I wake up at about 10, maybe later. (I am not in school, and plenty of sleep is certainly on the menu).

On Sunday I was awoken by Evanesce and Beth talking to each other loudly, Evanesce from her room, Beth from the bathroom which is right outside of my door. Sometimes I'm irrational when I wake up, especially if I have been woken up by something other than my alarm clock. I realize this and decided not to leave the room until Beth and Evanesce had left. I couldn't take a shower anyway since both of them were using the bathroom and I didn't want to say something I'd regret. The same thing happened yesterday morning. I was feeling rather civil for just having woken up and decided to address the situation right then instead of silently resenting Evanesce every time she woke me up. So I opened my door and said "Hey Evanesce, could I ask you a favor? I work every night until midnight, so I don't get to sleep until late, and probably will never wake up before 10, so I was wondering if you could just keep it down in the hallway in the mornings?" I acknowledged that the hours were weird, but I would really appreciate it. She said ok. Great, I had been nice, courteous, mature, I felt great.

Really, let your imagination run wild with this next part because I cannot nearly do it justice in the retelling.

This morning I was getting ready for my first job and she knocked on my door. She continued to pretty much attack me about commanding her to be quiet in her own house. She was so up in my face, yelling, slamming doors and then coming back out add more. She couldn't believe she had to deal with this stupidity, I was an idiot and I had better not dare to command her to do anything ever again. She would play her radio as loud as she wanted, she would talk as loud as she wanted, she would do whatever she wanted and she was commanding me to take it. She was talking a mile a minute. She did not have to listen to a twenty-year-old and if I continued to talk to her like that then I was going to have to repaint my walls. (I'm not sure what that meant, but it was very definitely a threat.) Two minutes after she said something she would say she hadn't said it, manipulating every word. I honestly have never felt so personally assaulted. It really shook me up. I was experiencing it, not believing it was actually happening, there could not be someone like this who actually existed, this sort of thing only happened in movies.

My wonderful roommate Beth came out shortly after Evanesce started in on me and she witnessed the whole thing and I am so glad. This is something which is so outrageous that I'm sure you think I'm exaggerating. Some of you I'm sure regard me as someone who adds a dramatic flare to every story I tell. I assure you, there is no need to make this more dramatic than it was. Ask Beth, she is a very diplomatic, non-aggressive personality who is extremely fair about everything. She agrees with me, there is something wrong with this girl. She heard how nicely I asked Evanesce if she could be quieter, and she heard the unbelievable response a day later. She suggested we not be home alone with her so each of us would always have a witness, and she suggested we lock our bedroom doors.

When I left the bathroom a bit ago, I saw that Evanesce was home. I immediately fled to my room, turned off the light, and locked the door. That was honestly my instinct, the last thing I want is to interact with her again. This is ridiculous.

"I hear in my mind all this music, and it breaks my heart"

Infidelity by Regina Spektor

On Thursday I had to do a favor for my sister which required me to drive all the way to Heber. I was happy to, I love driving through the canyon! I had this big project due on Thursday and it was kind of a reward after staying up late working on that to drive in glorious mountains and air and trees. It was so beautiful it broke my heart. I know that sometimes I may complain a lot about Utah, but I seriously appreciate having been able to experience the beauty of these mountains. And the sunsets. And the spiral jetty. I just wish I could have explored more in my time here. I know there are countless beauties which I have no idea are out there. That makes me sad. I wish I had a personal guide to Utah's beauties, someone who knew what I would like, someone who would make me put down the book or homework or movie and get out there.

When I was little I would wish that my eyeballs could have tiny cameras inside I could control with my mind so that I could take pictures of everything I saw as I saw it, without the use of my hands, without anyone knowing, without taking the trouble of pulling out a camera and turning it on, etc. It would be so much more efficient than a normal camera. I certainly wished the same thing as I was driving.

Money makes the world go around the world go around the world go around...

Thank you Alan Cumming and the Kit Kat Girls.

This past week I have thought a lot about money. A couple of weeks ago it became clear to me that I would need to find another job this summer. My plan had been to work at the bookstore all summer. The manager had given me the idea that there would be some shifts opening up for the summer, and meanwhile I could get 10-15 hours a week working on-call. Au contraire. I'm really lucky if I get 10 hours a week now, and there are no shifts for me in the summer. Meanwhile I'm planning a much needed roadtrip into the setting sun towards ocean, redwoods, and art. Which will cost money. I'm also trying to get a credit card, but due to no credit history everyone feels they can swindle me into outrageous APR percentages. I hate money. I hate that I need it. I hate that I want it. I hate that everyone is obsessed with it. (I know, what a gross generalization.)

I put off looking for a job. I've been busy-- Costume Design has put off all of these huge projects until the end of the semester. I didn't really have time to start a new job until the semester/road trip were over. I frankly dreaded the job search. But I knew where I could turn if I had to: my good old friend Severin. He's the manager of Ben and Jerry's, and has told me and my siblings several times to come by if we needed a job. I was afraid, I didn't want to take advantage of our friendship in any way. But, impulsively, I called him on Monday and he pretty much immediately gave me a job. Not only that but he was absolutely willing to work around my numerous conflicts this summer. Never has such a flexible job been offered to me. The unfortunate part is that there weren't many hours available and it would only be for $6.50 an hour. Well, I was desperate, and that could get me through the summer. I tried to radiate my gratitude.

A couple of days later a friend gave me an application to where he worked: APX Alarms. Data entry. Um, hippie Ben and Jerry's vs. Data Entry for an impersonal corporation? No contest, right? Except that APX pays $10 an hour, 25-30 hours a week. If Oren had given me the application before I called Severin, there would be no question, I would have applied. And even so, Severin would understand that I got a much better offer, right? Well, I didn't know what to do, Sev had done such a favor for me and I didn't want to be ungrateful. I wished that someone could just say "Laura, do this" and I'd do it. But no one could. I talked to several people about it. Spencer told me I should choose the more tragic option because it would better fit my persona. Most others said "apply and see what happens...?"

Ben and Jerrys: Not a very good wage, but I would be participating in a company which I personally could support. Ice cream: good. Hippie founders: good. Easy-going atmosphere: good. Free ice cream for me: good.

APX Alarms: Lots of hours, lots of money. But I felt like I would be selling my soul. I would be working purely for the gain of money. money money money. Cold hard cash. That felt so... capitalistic. It felt so... not me. It's not like I like the company at all. They're not little, they're a huge coporation spanning the United States, Puerto Rico, and Canada. Um, I guess alarm systems are good...

So, do what I feel morally better about and be poor, or swallow my liberal views and build up my bank account? I applied for APX and the interview was more like them recruiting me. They hired me. And I sold out and went for the money. I called Severin and he was totally fine with it, he told me I could have a job with him whenever I needed it. I hope I don't regret this. Beth tried to comfort me by saying that Ben and Jerry's is just as capitalistic as APX since they charge so much for their ice cream. And that there was nothing wrong with earning money. And the very luxury of choosing between jobs like this and having the option of choosing something I might morally support or enjoy doing is a result of my being born into a middle-class family which profited from our capitalistic society. By working for APX I will have a slight taste of being the common working man.

Well when I walked into APX all of the employees seemed to be products of Abercrombie and Fitch, flip-flopped and tanned, earning an easy $10 by sitting on their bums in an air-conditioned room, chatting.

"The world is a book..."

"...and those who do not travel read only one page." ~St. Augustine

I just want to say that I wrote a great post. And then the internet ate it.

"She keeps working to make connections..."

"...but the pile of near-misses is starting to overwhelm her. What Mirabelle needs is an omniscient voice to illuminate her and spotlight her. And to inform everyone that this one has value, this one, standing behind the counter in the glove department, and then to find her counterpart and bring him to her."
~Steve Martin, Shopgirl

I know. All I am lately is quotes. Just the sum of all the movies I've seen, books I've read, music I've listened to, people I've encountered.

Well, I haven't had a lonely day in some time, it was bound to happen.

"In this world there's a kind of painful progress..."

"...Longing for what we've left behind and dreaming ahead. At least I think so."
~Harper, Angels in America

"To the world I seem by intention on my part a dilettante and a dandy merely..."

"...It is not wise to show one's heart to the world."
~Oscar Wilde

I have Several things I need to write about, but for now, I just want to say that I feel really blessed to 1) be able to do Shakespeare for kids every week and 2) be able to do longform improv theatre. A year ago I would not have foretold that anything like the Thrillionaires would be in my life, and I'm so glad it is. "I hope that strikes a chord somewhere between your neck and your waist."~Maclain Nelson

Here are Lisa Clark, Jenny Latimer, Me, and Hailey Smith backstage at the Velour before we did tonight's show: an homage to Oscar Wilde.

reconfiguring my senses

Finals are over, what is the first thing I do? Read a book of my own choosing. Or rather, finish the book I started during the semester, forced myself to put aside, and then picked up again last week as I procrastinated a little. Big mistake, after I had picked it up again it was a struggle to put it down every time. I read the last third of it today.

I love books that you don't want to be over. I love books that make you cry. I love books that you don't want to give back to the person you borrowed it from. I love books that will have a part of you in them, always, because you let it in, or it finds its way in, to the innermost part of you and that can't help but colour the pages a little. I love books that will be a part of you, always. I love books that you just don't want to let out of your possession. I love books that know me.

I have to give this book back to its owner because it means as much, or more, to her as it does to me. Which is a comfort. And a part of me will always be in it. I'll buy my own copy, fresh and new. And it won't have our history, until I read it again, sometime in the future, at which time I will be a different person, and I will colour its pages differently, recording a different history.

Whenever I got books from the library, I always wondered about all of the people who had read the book before me. How something of each of them was in the book, and if only I knew how, it could become a portal into these other people's lives-- only the part of their life when they were reading the book of course. But those are the book's secrets, which it doesn't divulge. Each book is a history of many different people.

This, and the fact that they're free, is why I like libraries. But the downside is that you have to give those books back, and what if you've created a strong, treasured, rare relationship with that book? You're just expected to let it go? It's like letting a piece of yourself go. For the benefit of others I guess, if they think like I do.

All of this is also why I like to let people borrow my books-- only if they're right, lending books is a risk. What if they don't love it like I loved it? What if they don't treat it well? What if they don't give it back? But if you choose well, you can find the right people to lend to, and when you get the book back, it will have given more, it will have been given more, it will be different, enriched, more experienced, closer to fulfilling its ultimate goal: to give its gift to as many people as possible.

Spring Fever

I think BYU has chosen the worst time to have finals. It's that glorious time of year that Spring is waking up and all I want to do is go outside and be a part of it! I feel like by the time I'll actually get to pay attention to it-- Thursday-- the best parts will be over. For a week before finals you can't expect students to really be able to take advantage of the outdoors. And blossoms are already falling off of trees. I need to revel in this time when it's warm, but not too warm. All too soon that Utah sun will be glaring at me, zapping all the strength out of me. I feel like the sun hates me in the summer. But right now he's my friend and I can't come out and play, I need to stay in my room and work work work to win this race against the clock. If only I didn't have to sleep. Sometimes I try to compromise between the two extremes of playing outside and working inside by reading while laying on my grass. But let's face it, my yard is not a yard, it's a patch of grass next to the road, and more often than not I'll lapse into day dreams. Too much of my work relies on a computer to go farther than my yard, and I like to think I get more work done if I force myself to sit in my room. Well, only a couple more days to go, and then I'll be free as a bird for three days, except for those hours of working in the bookstore...

At least it looks pretty ouside of my window.

I'm all at sea. Now I need you more than ever.

Today was one of those days where I did a great job of being upbeat and happy at school. I comparmentalized, I'm pretty talented at that. It doesn't help my acting, but it gets me through the day just great. The smile slipped just a smidge at improv. And now I'm home alone in my room, and there's no one to keep myself together for. I'm
depressed
tired
stressed
hurt

"Everybody knows, it hurts to grow up. And everybody does."

"God expects you to have enough faith and determination and enough trust in Him to keep moving, keep living, keep rejoicing. In fact, He expects you not simply to face the future (that sounds pretty grim and stoic); He expects you to embrace and shape the future-- to love it and rejoice in it and delight in your opportunities. God is anxiously waiting for the chance to answer your prayers and fulfill your dreams, just as He always has. But He can't if you don't pray, and He can't if you don't dream. In short, He can't if you don't believe." ~Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

Thank you Emily for this inspiration I needed today.

"Do something every day that scares you."

Wise words, Baz.

Lately I've done a pretty good job following that advice. Namely, I've started working on a film, and I've been part of a unique Improvisational Theatre troupe called The Thrillionaires. But you're an acting major, Laura, shouldn't this all come naturally to you? Au contraire, my friend. For the past month and a half or so, I've been attending a weekly improv workshop. The first two weeks I had to literally stop thinking and just direct my feet towards the door because when it came time to leave, I was scared and didn't feel like putting myself through that. I am so glad I went. When I was there, I was always really glad and had a lot of fun. I've learned a lot, gained a little bit of confidence, and improved friendships.

Well, tonight The Thrillionaires had their first show. Last week I was invited to perform, and to become a part of the advanced group. I was really happy about that. And it felt good that pros, who'd been doing improv for years, had enough confidence in me to want to perform with me. As tonight approached, I kept expecting to get nervous, and even claimed that I was. But I don't think that I really was, which is unusual and surprising. Even tonight, I figured that any minute that familiar sensation in the stomach would begin. And it never did. I sometimes felt pretty awkward, but not my traditional nervousness. I was comfortable out there on the stage. Granted, I was onstage for maybe 5 minutes out of a 1 1/2 hour show, but still. It felt really good to be there. And so now I really regret not jumping in more. It was my first time working with all of these very experienced people altogether, and so I felt that I needed permission to jump up and join, to cast myself in a substantial part, instead of just backup (though backup is needed sometimes and I feel fine about providing it.) The scariest thing about improv for me is the jumping up and casting myself part. And so I resolve, tomorrow when we practice, and next week, I will not stifle the many impulses I had tonight. Following my impulses will be what allows my fellow improv artists to trust me. Despite my strange comfort on the stage, improv is still scary. And I don't think it will ever stop being scary, I just am gaining the experience to be able to deal with that scariness, I can let it exist and still continue with the scene. It doesn't conquer me like it has in the past.

The film I started this weekend terrified me. I was so stressed. I'd never done film work before, except for my Acting for Film class, and I felt really out of my element. But it was pretty fun. I think I really enjoyed it. I think if I had allowed myself to invest just a smidgeon more, it would have been really fun. And I think that will come with time. I just have to get used to the camera again.

My roommate, Beth, who saw the show tonight, shared some wise thoughts with me. There's a lot in me, a lot of talent, a lot of commitment, a lot of great stuff. But I find excuses to not allow all of that to come out. My biggest excuse and affliction is lack of confidence. So, I think I just need to throw myself out there. My risks will be bigger, my work will be better. I will make myself a Woman of Opportunity. That's scary.

I've made a huge mistake.

How many times must I learn the painful lesson: never cut your own bangs.

What I secretly desire

1. to take a drawing class
2. to have at least an hour a day I can read a book for pleasure
3. a garden to devote myself to
4. to have the means and opportunity to learn how to cook unusual and delicious things
5. to go someplace amazing this summer
6. a boyfriend
7. a tv that isn't fuzzy
8. to take a photography class
9. a piano to play- maybe eventually I'd get better
10. to be a double major in film
11. to be better versed in literature, without having to write papers about it. Maybe a book club is the answer
12. to find a method of working out that I enjoy
13. to figure out what my exact interior decoration taste is and to incorporate it in my living conditions so that I will LOVE to come home to a loving living space
14. self-confidence I can rely on
15. one day a week that I can watch a movie without feeling guilty
16. to spend some significant time by the sea