300 love letters

http://www.sleeptrip.com/300loveletters/2.html

Lost & Found & Found

This morning I was packing old journals into storage in the closet of my new studio apartment. On the top shelf of the closet, I found this. Addressed to no one, and dated on my 30th birthday.


10.1.08
Dear.

i need help - not financial hep, but help that changes lives. I am lost. I am a horrible decision maker. I am pathetic and self loathed & an idiot.

I can't get ahead financially. Always in the negative & borrowing money from my parents that goes to waste.

I have nothing to show for my negative bank account.

I am 3 months behind on car payments, no rent money. 6,000 in medical bills and 3 months behind on all my bills.

Work is slow so I have no consistent cash flow coming in and if it does, it is eaten by overdraft fees.

I am dating a loser wo "needs me" or maybe cause he thinks I have money. I don't know why he dates me.

I feel pathetic and a loser myself. Bad things are happening to me - because I think bad things? because I left my good husband and I must pay for it?

What is going to happen to me?

In my mind, I want to be making enough money to catch up on all my bills, pay rent & car. Pay back my parents and Robert, and buy nice clothes so I don't have to keep wearing the same thing over & over.

I would like to have a nice savings account, a lap top, a TV, a couch, and a nice bed with two sets of sheets. I would like to trade my car in for an Audii.

I want to be 100% healthy. I will have an amazing guy a guy who respects me, loves me, cares & supports me, includes me in his life & who is motivated, strong, handsome, great in bed, drives, & who has his own independent life and gives me my space. A guy who wants me to know his friends because he is proud of his "beautiful woman".

I want to listen to great music, take fun exciting trips, vacations that each time (I) we go, I come back thinking "that was the best time I've ever had". Drink the best wine Dance like I've never danced (with grace, beauty, sultry & confidence).

I will also be happy to be alone.

Walk the neighborhood with peace inmy head & love in my heart, & bags of goodies for me & my loved ones.

I will continue to keep my fit figure. Small waist nice hips & butt, juicy thighs, I will get my arms slim and maybe even get a breast augmentation to a full B.

I will thank every day for my beautiful hair.

I will know I am a hard worker. I will overcome this absent minded attitude & be a huge asset to the amazing company I am with. I will be smart. I'll have small, fun business ventures on the side.

I will have a savings account fund for my nephew Matthew. Whom I love more than anything I've ever known. I will always take care of him.

I will make my parents proud & see that they are taken care of till their last days.

I will not focus on negative things. I will never again be the girl with the "woe is me" persona.

I am going to visit my grandparents a lot more. watch Dancing with the Stars w/ my grandma, go to church w/ my other grandparents.

I will play the piano & sew. I will be creative - I am creative.

I am not afraid of today or tomorrow.

I have been blessed with everything I need - I am loved, I have a family, support, a great job, a good car & nice figure, a few great girlfriends whom I will cherish & do anything for

I am healthy. I know how to eat healthy. I have a great sister who I can call anytime I need to talk & vice versa.

I am not afraid anymore. Cause I have just received the help I needed. The help is within me and all around me. I just had to ask & see. I just had to believe. I will take care of Lucy - always. I will still cry & be lonely at times, but know that I am not alone. I have me - who really is the strongest person I know. Things won't be as amazing as I know they will be overnight, but today, I am not afraid or sad, or miserable.

I feel a light within me. A light that I turned on. A light that I will keep on, always. I turned the switch. It's always been there. I will do my best everyday to love & love myself, to be smart work hard and be healthy & positive. I will do my best to help myself. Because I love myself & I will not let me drown.

Lucy Rodriguez*




*all names have been changed.

People Hate Lines, Reality

I had the *extreme* pleasure of going to the airport a couple weeks ago. I actually don't dislike airports or the seemingly pointless pages of steps one must go through in order to board a plane. The reason I don't mind is because I arrive unbelievably early when I travel, usually by 3 hours. Many people think I'm nuts for it, and I am in a way. I get really touchy about time and keeping a schedule. Perhaps that's because my years of getting lost have taught me to leave twice as much time for transit in order to actually show up anywhere on time, but regardless being early is a part of my personality that I really like. If I'm NOT in a hurry - I don't mind lines, I don't mind pushy people with absolutely no awareness of their own personal space or that of others, I don't even mind removing nearly every piece of clothing and disposing of anything that was once in or at one time may return to liquid form. The greatest thing about it, though, is to observe the human being in its literal state of "fight or flight".

There was an incredibly long line at the ticketing counter to check bags for domestic flights. It got into one of those windy-topsy-turvy-neither-here-nor-there-type situations where it was a little confusing as to where the end of the line was. There was (and I feel like this rarely happens), an incredibly cheerful, helpful young lady with red hair directing this herd of idiots. Since I was (as always) obscenely early, I could maintain my own chipper attitude while other people arrived late and panicked, huffed around, and made all kinds of strange faces. While well informed, I opted not to tell anyone what the deal was, not only because I was consistently ignored (fine with me; I'm early), but also because I was extraordinarily entertained by the fact that everyone who approached this line thought there there was some way that they could be exempt from standing in it. The rules set up by the cute redhead in the blue vest were clear, yet somehow, the time spent before deciding to stand in the line became a strategy session for approximately 6 familes within a 20 minute period. Each conversation went like this:

Family leader: "Where do we...?"

Cute redhead: "This is the line to stand in if you are checking bags for a domestic flight."

Family leader: "What if we...?"

Cute redhead: "Where are you flying?"

Family leader: "We...Miami...does that m-"

Cute redhead: "Do you have bags to check?"

Family leader: "Yes, but we..."

Cute redhead: "The end is just down that way."

Family leader: "Where is the line if we checked in online?"

Cute redhead: "This is the line."

Family leader: (sharing a sigh and a look with Family second in command, who is wrangling the children and their Hannah Montana suitcases) "No, we checked in onli-"

Cute redhead: "If you're checking bags, this is the line you stand in. This is the line everyone is standing in."

But people continued to believe that there was some other line, some HIDDEN line that they were going to have to give a password to find. Maybe slip the redhead a 20 and she'd send them through the plastic window of the baggage claim carousel where George Clooney would be waiting to take their bags and read to their kids while they sipped bloody marys in the Executive Lounge.

It was amazing how hard they were trying to avoid it. While I am certainly not innocent of complaining about waiting for something, I started to think, what's so bad about standing in a line? I mean, you're just standing there. And if you're not standing in this line, you're standing in the security line, and if you're not in that one you're wrestling elbows with everyone trying to get ONE person ahead as they board rows 15 and higher and once on the place you're still waiting for some jackass who's trying to sandwich a foot locker into the overhead bin - and he didn't check it why? Because he was trying to get out of standing in line! So what is the point of putting off the inevitable? If you have to stand in lines all fucking day, why not look at them as something more productive than an inconvenience?

And I think I should take this observation to all areas of my life. Patience has never been a huge virtue of mine, which is way I allot 5 hours to get anything done. But if I could just stop complaining and take a look around, stop feeling so entitled and put-upon, maybe next time the people around me wouldn't mind the wait either. And wouldn't that be nice?

What have you done with Liz?

The body is shaped, disciplined, honored, and in time, trusted.
-Martha Graham

Without discipline, there's no life at all.
-Katherine Hepburn

You lack discipline.
-Detective John Kimball, Kindergarten Cop



The strict schedule I've been following (details below) is fantastically exciting and a lot more fun than I anticipated. The evenings invite the most challenges, whether it's staying up past 11 or choosing study over board games with friends; it's been kind of a solitary existence. That, I think, is probably necessary at this stage. The tension it's relieving is off the charts, though.

I was on my mat at 6:30 am waiting for yoga to start when a along came a spider and sat down beside her. Her being me. Now, anyone who has ever even heard me talk about spiders or watched me writhe as the mere thought of them crawls beneath my skull and tickles my brain...KNOWS that I hate them. But sitting thereon the mat, I saw the thing and noticed for the first time what a delicate frame it had. My heart didn't react in the least, but my mind began running laps around the studio. I should get rid of it well I can't kill it on my mat and maybe I can just well I can get a piece of paper and scoop but there's no paper maybe I'll... And as these thoughts were forming into sentences in my rational mind, my hands had already descended to the mat and were gently inviting the spider into my hand. I cupped it IN MY PALMS (for Chrissakes) and carried it to the lobby where I released it onto the patio, my brain STILL trying to decide the best way to handle the situation. It wasn't until I had already let it go that I realized what had happened. I had kind and loving thoughts toward something that, on any other day previous, would have sent me screaming to the other side of the room.

Subtler but just-as-significant changes:

drinking green tea at work instead of tea (I hate green tea)
tons of energy all day and in a fantastic mood
more quick-witted
remembering my dreams
consciousness of breath
"standing outside" my emotional reactions with a greater control of their effect on my heartbeat and my words
better food choices in appropriate portions
new-found respect for the body's ability to execute physical activity (providing that my treatment of the body is respectful)
better posture
conscious awareness of the body in space and physical touch
increased sensory awareness
more compassion
patience
give better hugs (and more often)

The schedule:

Um...what?

Looking for a Spiritual Advisor or Witch to help me book an audition

Reply to: xxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-03-28, 11:02PM

Hello, I have been out here for a few years and have not really booked anything, so I am hoping to try some alternative methods. One of my friends suggested I get into white magic, but I think I should find a expert or someone who knows what they are doing. My audition is on Wednesday, so if you could write me with whatever idea/spell you have to help me that would be great, because like I said I have never done this before. I can pay 100 bucks, maybe 130, but that is all I have right now. Thanks

Location: Los Angeles
Compensation: 100
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah...

Having gotten that awful rant out of my system feels like I took a really great poop.

In training we're learning that the mind is most absorbent to new information while in a relaxed and easeful state. As was obviously not the case with me, I was panicked about every aspect of my new schedule: juggling auditions with my new job, leaving early for class, going to yoga at 6am to fulfill requirements, personal practice...even alone time freaked me out.

Of course, the state of mind I am in when I enter a casting office is hardly ever so angry I can barely function. Sometimes it's a lot of fun. Obviously, were I booking all these jobs I pooh-pooh, my opinion of their role in my life would be far less dramatic and looked upon with much more humor. This is, perhaps if not certainly, the REASON I am not booking any jobs. So there, self.

After a rough time back in old New York, I told myself that I wasn't going to do anything from then on unless it was fun & easy. For two years after I made that promise, everything WAS. I invited it in, and recently I think I accidentally asked it to leave. People throw a lot of speculation as to why it sometimes seems in our nature to sabotage our own success. I happen to share the opinion of those who believe we are far more afraid of being happy than we are unwilling to be miserable. With happiness and clarity comes a feeling of great responsibility, and add the pressure of feeling you might actually have something to do with the way events transpire and that you can choose how you feel - and damn. That's heady shit. No wonder we don't want to deal with it, right? It's a lot easier to just deal what you've told yourself you got than to get your hopes up for something better.

OK, I don't know how I got off on this tangent, but the point is that I find myself incredibly boring when I'm unhappy and I also don't love being bored. Since I'm with myself all day every day, this poses a pretty big problem. There's value in finding humor in a bad situation, but creating a bad situation just for a joke is hardly healthy. But if I have to take myself incredibly seriously one day just to be able to say I don't want to be that way the next, then that's all a part of the process. Plus, getting pissed feels really good.

The other point is...I'm happy and I know it.

(clap, clap.)

Commercially Desireable

Nice work if you can get it, but the truth about commercials is the audition process is one of the most infuriating of all theatrical endeavors.

First, I have to deal with breakdown. Once over the joy of actually GETTING an appointment, I have to face the grim and often humiliating description of the character for which I will read. Many times, it is a single word, “wife”. I can look past the fact that I am single and unmarried (and happily so) without a furrowed brow to read the sides, but it is the more detailed descriptions that give me pause.

“Mother of twins”. I sigh heavily upon reading this one, as I am 28 and childless and have no concept of the strength and patience it requires to be the mother of twins, even in TV land. The twins are always 10 in these commercials, and it makes me think I either look like I’m 38 or like I gave birth at 13.

“Slightly character”. I actually like this one, because it gives you free reign to be funny or “OFF BEAT” as another breakdown would note. What it really means, though, is “Slightly bad-looking”, which I also don’t mind because it takes the pressure off being “Slightly emaciated”. This way, I can eat a bagel and not wonder if I’m going to starve either because I’m not supposed to eat a bagel or because I can’t get a commercial job.

“TONS of diologue”. One line.

“Must be GREAT at Improv”. No improv allowed.

“Caucasian”. Oh wait, that’s ALL of them.

“Slightly less-than-average looks. Slightly overweight.” Still not over this one, obviously.

Then there’s the actual audition, which usually involves a 45 minute-1 ½ hour drive to Santa Monica. After arriving in the neighborhood and navigating through the “NO ACTOR PARKING” signs that pepper the windows, I park 8 blocks away and with headshot in hand, proceed to the sign-in. There are actors everywhere, muttering and powdering their noses, checking out everyone in the room. Inevitably, there are 6 people in line waiting for one actor to enter pages of information into a computer that will then spit out a barcode, which is to be used by the actor to identify themselves in the audition. Yes, a barcode. While I kind of love this barcode idea, as it certainly does expedite the process, in the line of 6 actors, one of them will be cross-armed and making a pouty remark about a retinal scan and another will agree on how impersonal it is. I ignore them, when what I really want to do is remind them that their one line is about all-in-one turf builder, and does that really require soul-searching to deliver effectively?

I sit down and wait for the moderator to come out and bring us all in for a group explanation, which is basically a lot of common sense and would not be necessary if the clients or casting office would simply SUPPLY the material before we arrive, which they don’t. Instead they ask us to “come early” so we can spend time with the material, which is really easy because we all live in Santa Monica. A young lady rushes in, her heels clicking on the tile floor. The moderator of her session tries “slightly-less-than" hard to conceal a rolling of the eyes, as the young woman harriedly and politely asks to be moved up in the line, due to time. Now it is her fellow actresses who roll their eyes, because, while having no day jobs to return to, will now be late to have their roots done, which, by the way, they desperately need.

I read the material. The mother of twins is speaking from her driveway about the magic of Christmas and the even more globally powerful magic of Wal-Mart, which, by the way, refuses to pay health benefits to employees and suggests they go on welfare. Not Twins Mom, though! She cheerfully explains to the camera that because she has twins, there will be a merry Christmas only if the twin boys each get identical presents, all of which are available at Wal-Mart. Two of everything. Simply put, a passive-aggressive attempt at calming the twins into submission by separating them from their need to share ONE toy and thus be a fully-functioning member of society. One of my lines is actually, “Hey, world peace sounds great and everything, but it’s not happening in MY house unless I get two of everything!”

I suddenly hate myself.

We are all called in to the group explanation, which I’ve always felt is the casting director’s one attempt to show everyone either how insightful they are or what a fantastic personality they have, neither or which are true or brief. The fact that the ad is massively offensive, materialistic, and insulting to all mankind seems to bother no one. The word “like” is dropped approximately 33 times in as many seconds, while actors laugh at the lame jokes and like, and beam smiles that demand “NOTICE ME!" When the explanation has finally reached its scintillating climax, everyone exits but me, and I wait on my mark to slate my name.

And then I get nervous.

With all the bitterness and sarcasm, it turns out I actually do care what people think. I care what this casting director thinks of my ability, I care what my agency will hear from them, I care how I will feel about myself on the 45-minute drive home. I would really like to say it doesn’t matter; that commercials are pointless and degrading marketing tools to fool satisfied people into thinking they are otherwise; that it makes no difference how I prepare because the clients don’t know what they want anyway – and I’d be right about all those things. But somewhere in that little moment between breaths I say my own name, and everything changes.

This, I think, is the most infuriating thing of all.