The Westing Game - A Journey Through My Eyes

A couple of months ago I saw that a theatre group I've acted with in the past was having auditions for a play called The Westing Game.  The name sounded very familiar so I looked it up and found that the play was based off a book of the same name, a book that I had read when I was in 5th grade.  I'll take just about any opportunity to act, so I figured that I'd go ahead and audition.  I also figured that it would probably be a good idea for me to actually re-read the book since I didn't remember much of it other than bits and pieces.  My first thought, before I started reading it, was that it was going to be a bit juvenile.  I mean, I'd read this book when I was a kid, sure there are those books that are timeless and that you love all through your life from childhood to adulthood, but I couldn't really imagine this being one of them.  I was completely wrong.  It turned out to be one of the most brilliant books I had read in a good while and I loved it.  With my first reading I immediately knew what character I wanted to play, a woman who just didn't fit in with the other characters.  They laughed at her behind her back, ignored, and treated her, quite honestly, like crap, until of course they needed her and then they were all willing to kiss up to her.  In that book, she was the person who I could identify with the most, with the way she felt and to an extent to the way she was treated.  I think I read the book through at least five times before my audition, just so I could get a good feel of the character and nail the cold reading of the script.

This Is My Body, Deal With It

Have you ever had those days where you feel like something's changed about yourself?  There's that subtle little difference.  Something that used to really bother you suddenly isn't such a big deal.  That person you couldn't stand suddenly isn't quite as bad as you thought.  Yesterday was my day for that change.  It wasn't big and flashy, it was just a moment of, you know what, who cares!

Let me explain a bit more.  It was pretty simple.  I was making homemade macaroni and cheese and discovered that we were basically out of milk which is a fairly key ingredient to making macaroni and cheese.  At that point I had a choice:  I could run to the store and pick up some milk or I could abandon my cooking endeavors.  For most people it'd be a fairly simple choice to simply run over to the store, grab a gallon of milk and run home.  For me?  Well, not so much.  Here's the thing, I don't go anywhere, and I do mean anywhere, without my hair or makeup done.  So to make a simple five minute run to the store for milk, it typically takes me at least thirty minutes to get ready because I have to get a shower, do my hair and makeup, and find something reasonably attractive to wear.  Yeah, pretty sad and pathetic, but true.

How Strong Am I?

Ever have that moment where everything suddenly changes and you're trying to decide if something is worth doing after all?  That's kinda where I am.  My mom and I had talked about her going with me to Phoenix, AZ so I can audition for the Biggest Loser.  That way we could have some time off to hang out together and just get away at the same time that I was trying to get a place on the show.  Well, me being me, I kept forgetting to talk to her about it in more detail after our initial conversation.  It was one of those things that I would think about it when I was home and she wasn't and then when she got home I would forget.  I also just didn't see her much.  In any case, when I finally did talk to her about it several days ago, it turns out she thought I had changed my mind and she was going to be working Tuesday through Thursday, right when we were planning to be gone.  My first reaction was to be angry, which was stupid since it was my fault, and my second reaction was to completely freak out.

Taking a Chance

Anybody who knows me knows that I'm overweight.  Okay, actually, I'll just be honest, I'm fat.  And it sucks.  But I'm not going to bore you with a really long sob story or anything, because I'm actually pretty excited.  As of two days ago, I am in the running to be on the Biggest Loser.  My parents and friends think I'm pretty much crazy, but I'm really excited and pretty darned determined to do this.  Remember, I'm stubborn.

Pre-registration is done, my application is over half filled out, and my mom and I are flying out to Phoenix on the 20th for some much needed girl time as well as for my audition.  So this was pretty short, but I just wanted to share because I am so super excited to take advantage of this opportunity!

The Beauty Within

One of the things I have struggled with for many years now is my perception of beauty. My heart knows that beauty comes from within and I can see that beauty in others. But when I look at myself, I judge myself by outward appearance. I'm the girl who has to look perfect, who would rather die than go somewhere without makeup. I'm the girl who hates the girl in the mirror, cause I'm not stick thin, my hair's not perfect, there's a small gap in my teeth, etc. I notice every single little flaw.

More Beautiful You

So I know this is going to be my second blog on the whole self-image topic, but it's something I've struggled with a lot so I talk about it some. In any case, I got thinking about it again today, or yesterday rather, when one of my facebook friends posted this song, More Beautiful You by Jonny Diaz, as his facebook status. This is probably my favorite song of all time and it's one that I listen to pretty much every day or at least once or twice a week.

Mirror, Mirror

So I was on my way home from work today and I was listening to my MP3 player when it switched to a Barlow Girl song called Mirror, Mirror. The song is basically just about how when we look in the mirror we kind of ask it if we're living up to the standards of the world. Do we look like the world wants us to look. As the song goes on it says that the mirror doesn't define us, the world's standards don't define us. We were made in the perfect image of God and that's what matters.