Our doubts are traitors.

It's snowing outside and I think I'm one of the only people in Provo to be happy about it. And I am. Today it's a quiet, content happiness, not the giddy flurried happiness. It's so peaceful and it makes everything different, new, beautiful, solitary, and silent. I love how quiet it is.

After the bitter attacking freeze of Chicago, Provo has seemed very inviting. Comforting.

I've been happy the last couple of days, and it has been so nice. It's been a relief. I feel like I've been a restless malcontent for months and that creature has finally settled down-- perhaps only for a nap. But I feel like this is my equilibrium, this is where I naturally want to be. I have felt pressed down for a while, floundering, struggling to pull myself back up but the struggle only gave my malcontent a better hold. I'm afraid this peace will leave any moment, but for the time being I'm enjoying it.

Chicago and ACTF were really rough. I felt despair. It was awful. I honestly don't remember feeling that bad for a long time. I avoid thinking about it because I'm afraid that feeling is going to slink back. ACTF just sucked because I truly just had rotten luck and it caused this flashback of how I'd felt the week before. But now those two weeks are past, and I can just think about now. Here are some valuable lessons I learned: confidence is key. Really, I feel like confidence and consistency are essential. That's why Slate does so well because he's confident in his talent, work, and preparation. He's so good and he knows that. Furthermore, he's consistent. He doesn't let nerves get to him so his talent has the opportunity to do what it can. It's not debilitated by anything.

So how do I get that? I tend to think that the only way to gain confidence is through being cast in stuff and seeing yourself successful in a play. But that's exterior confidence, and what I need is interior, intrinsic confidence. Confidence that I have not because of anything other people see in me or do for me, but because it's just a part of me. I have no idea how to get that. But that's my goal for the next year. Also to audition for tons of things because I realized that I don't actually have a lot of audition experience. I mean, there just aren't that many opportunities in Provo to audition, and in order to get consistency, to be able to audition over and over again without letting nerves affect me, I need practice.

I'm really sad I won't be going to grad school this year. It's what I want to do now, more than anything. Right now, I know that that's the next step for me. So I asked Barta what, in total frankness and honesty, I needed to do to get into a graduate program next year. I mean, I want to go to auditions a year from now and I want people to want me. I want them to take notice. The first thing she said was to be more proactive-- write to schools and let them know that I'm going to be there and that I want them to watch for me. She also mentioned that I could work on vulnerability, but she had seen my monologues and she said that my Amelia one was good for that, so that's not so much the problem. The main thing? How I look. My weight is apparently all that is holding me back. In a way that is very comforting, because it's not like I'm not talented. And it seems like losing weight is something that is possible. Then again, haven't I been trying to do just that for ten years? I've suffered a lot of mean-spirited teasing because of it and I've hated myself for it and that hasn't made too much of a difference. Nevertheless, I have to do it now. Big Goal for Next Year: look damn good. I have a year. When I move away in September I can audition like mad, and hopefully some confidence will come into play in the next year. I'm feeling optimistic. I'm feeling like I can do this. I'll be ready by next year. And it's a good thing I went and tried this year because that was an essential step in these realizations. It won't be new next time, I'll know what I'm doing.

I've got to say though, I've been going to the gym since October and here's something I've learned: I am not good at pushing myself. There's some work that needs to be done.