One year later ...

2010 ... I'm not even sure how to describe it. Lots of good stuff. Lots of bad stuff. Unfortunately, we came out worse at the end of it than we did at the beginning, so the year is leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Not sure what to expect from 2011 ... except changes. Lots and lots of changes.

Anywho, that's why I'm thinking about reviving the ol' blog. Maybe. Possibly. I think it might be a good idea to record the inevitable stuff that will be happening to me and Tim this year. It might help me get a better understanding of my thoughts and feelings. And if I ever have doubts about any decisions I've made, it will be good to be able to look back at the time I made a decision and read my thoughts. Maybe. Possibly.

It's hard to decide because I know I have a larger audience on Facebook. But then again, I hate the limitations of FB. And I hate the total lack of anonymity. And maybe I don't really want a huge audience. Maybe. Possibly.

Terrible News

I think most of my readers know this already, but for those who didn't hear, I have news.

I joined an orchestra.

It's all kinda crazy and sudden. A few weeks ago I found out that a community orchestra was holding their auditions & they needed flutes. On a whim, I signed up. I don't know what I was thinking. I hadn't even touched a flute in 18 months! And there I was, renting an instrument just 6 hours before my audition. Madness. And yet somehow I got in.

Note that the group is known as the Really Terrible Orchestra, so maybe their standards are low.

Today was my first time to attend rehearsals. It was EXHAUSTING. The other two flutes sound so good & I was so nervous I almost started to cry. I'm hoping it gets easier as the weeks go by. I'll keep you informed.

Combating a case of wilt

I've been thinking for a couple of weeks that I should post a progress report on Project Bloom. There are a couple of reasons why I've been reluctant to talk about it.
1. For a long time, the news was all bad.
2. Lately I feel weird about talking intimately about myself. Photos are great, but when I think about writing about myself here, I kinda freeze up.
But I'm going to get over that because I know that some of you really care. So here goes.

June was a tough month. As soon as the family went away, Tim and I were forced to confront some ugly realities. He had applied for a job he really wanted, but had not gotten it. More than a month had passed since my audition in front of those 13 directors and not a single one had called back. I joked that it was our Spring of Rejection and tried to make it seem like we'd bounce back and we'd be fine, but in reality I took it very badly. This was no ordinary bout of rejection for us. It was a turning point. It was as if the world was telling us that we were no long good enough ... that we'd reached our peak and were now experiencing the long, painful decent into uselessness. This was made worse when I met a couple other people who had been trying for quite some time to break into the local theatre scene and who had been unsuccessful. "Too clique-y" one said. "Too much competition from transplanted professional actors," said another. Then one night we went to The Monti and the woman who auditioned right before me - the woman whose one-minute monologue stretched to four - stood up and told a story. Her bio listed all of her amazing accomplishments: her job as a college professor, her multiple professional acting and singing gigs, her appearances on NPR, and (of course) the one-woman show she had in the works. How could I - a lowly housewife from Oklahoma - compete with that? Everything began to appear pretty damn bleak. I felt hopeless.

I began to slip into a deep depression - the kind of darkness I haven't felt since 2003. I stayed in bed. I didn't get dressed. I easily went a whole week without leaving our house. I cried and cried and screamed at Tim and cried again. I didn't know who I was anymore. I didn't know what to do with the rest of my existence. Frankly, I began to think that there wasn't much point to my existence. I know that sounds ridiculous, but if you've ever experienced depression, you know that it is extremely illogical. That doesn't stop it from being painful, though.

Luckily, I recognized the symptoms and they scared me into action. I know that deep dark well of depression - I lived there for quite a while in the early part of this decade - and I'd really REALLY rather not live there again. So I forced myself to get up. I made myself leave the house. And when I got an e-mail informing me that a local theater company was holding a one-day class on cold readings, I signed up for it. I still had my weak moments and I almost talked myself out of going to the class. But I stuck with it. I forced myself to go.

To be honest, the class was not my shining moment. I'm out of practice. Plus, I was paired up with a less-than-ideal scene partner. But after the class, I stuck around and talked to the instructor, Jay. He teaches acting at Duke plus he's the co-founder and Artistic Director of two theater companies in town that have caught my attention. We chatted for about 5 minutes, during which he asked if I would be available to appear in a promotional video for a local bookstore.



That's right. He offered me an acting job. Not a big one, mind you. No lines or anything. I would play a factory worker amongst a lot of other factory workers. But it was something! He had tossed a crumb of nourishment at my starving soul! So of course, I happily accepted the offer.

Last Thursday we shot the commercial. I woke up that morning with a raging infection in my right eye, but there was no way I was missing this! I knew I looked freakish so I was too shy to make friends with the other dozen girls. I feel bad for missing out on that opportunity. But it was still fun! It only took us about 30 minutes to shoot our scene. To thank us for our time, the bookstore gave each of us a $20 gift certificate. All this and free books, too? Woo hoo!



And luckily, Jay - the instructor/director/AD guy - has been extremely warm and encouraging and welcoming. I doubt I'll be on-stage anytime soon, but I feel like I have an opening. I have a chance to be a part of something more. I'm still a little reticent, but I also feel a spark of hope that I haven't felt in a long long time. It's a good feeling.

Enough dilly-dallying! The promotional video was sent out today, so I'm posting it here. You'll notice me at the 28 second mark. Enjoy!

Just Around the Corner from Jim Haverkamp on Vimeo.

34

Did I mention here that Friday was my birthday? I don't think I did. No matter. I was so focused on preparing for my big audition that I barely noticed it myself. I fiddled about with my headshot (Option 1) and had it printed at Walgreens. And I tried out a few outfits to determine what I would wear to the audition. And I studied my monologue and performed it numerous times for my cat. I also spent far too much time typing and editing my resume so that it would fit onto one page. Note: Word 2007 can bite me. No, actually it can't because biting me is too simple & obvious a task for such a convoluted, unnecessarily complex piece of software. Grr.

Amidst all of this fevered preparation, I had to make time to do one indulgent thing on my birthday. I had to go to the mall. Normally I don't spend my free time wandering about the mall. If I'm there, it's usually because I have a particular goal in mind. Friday's goal: go to the new Anthropologie store.

I know it doesn't look like much from the outside, but inside this store is a cornucopia of girly-girl happiness. When I heard that we were getting our own Anthropologie store just a few miles away from my house AND that it was opening on my birthday ... well, if that isn't a sign, I don't know what is. So I went & I bought a couple things - not because I need them, but simply because they made me happy. I got a mug ...

... and some porcelain, painted measuring spoons. They're decorated on the back, too.

Yes, I made an indulgent purchase, people. It really does happen.

Sometimes Tim makes indulgent purchases, too. In this case, he purchased some aquamarine earrings way back in December at my family's favorite jewelry store & kept them hidden until my birthday.

Isn't he a sweetie? And isn't he grateful that I don't go snooping through his things while he's at work? Yes and yes. By the by, taking a photo of one's own ear is much more difficult than I imagined. Give it a try sometime.

We finished off the night with Indian food, coconut cake, and some episodes of Veronica Mars. Nothing too special, but that's okay. I'm definitely going to take many opportunities to celebrate more over the next week. After all, it's not everyday that a gal discovers that she's lived longer than Jesus. Granted, he came back from the dead, blah blah blah. But unlike Christ, I survived my 33rd year on this planet without being tortured by my enemies & left to die. What more can a gal ask for?

Headshots!

Help! I need to pick a headshot! My audition for 4 (yes, 4!) theater companies is Saturday morning - just 48 hours from now - so I need to make a decision pretty quickly. What do you all think?

Option 1


Option 2


Option 3


I'm leaning towards option 1. These theater groups tend to do more contemporary pieces, so #1 suits what they're looking for best. The second one seems like it would work better for more mainstream theater - Neil Simon and musicals and such. As for the 3rd, the more I look at it, the more it looks like a portrait. Headshots should have a slightly different feel than portraits I think.

By the by, getting these shots was not as effortless as it may appear. There are now about 150 photos on my memory card of me trying to look subtly pleasant but not sullen. Or happy but not forced . Or sweet but not insipid. I'm lucky I found 3 that don't repulse me. My best strategy: pretend I'm watching the cat snooze in the sun which, conveniently enough, she was doing just a few feet away at the time.

Now if only I had Photoshop ...

Finding my sea legs

Over the weekend I watched some of the figure skating world championships on TV and I found myself loooonging for the ice again. It's strange to think that I used to spend multiple hours a week training at the ol' Williams Center in Tulsa. I quit competitive figure skating about 15 years ago. Since then, I go skating about once every couple of years, which is a shame. I really do enjoy the feeling of the ice under my blades, the smell of the cold, dry air. I feel different out there - stronger, more free.

The rink closest to our house has a special adults-only session on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. There's a coach on hand to offer help & give lessons. They even provide coffee & muffins. I've known about this for years, but I was just too nervous/lazy/whatever to go before. This week I was ready. I uncovered my skates from the box on the top shelf of our closet & away I went.


Do you still call them "sea legs" if the water beneath your feet is frozen? Obviously, my body is a lot different than it was back when I skated regularly. My legs are simply too weak to do the things I used to do. But some of it is still there.

All of the other adults were so welcoming, so encouraging. The coach - Mary Jo - was marvelously helpful, too, and helped clear away some old cobwebs in my brain. She reminded me of some little tips, encouraged me to do some things that frightened me a little & was so impressed by my progress that she even asked me to demonstrate a few moves to other skaters. I managed to do a few spins & even a number of waltz jumps, but some simple things like back 3-turns are still escaping me. Gimmee time.


No, that isn't me. It's Coach Mary Jo doing a bit of ice dancing with one of the men in our group. Watchinging them take those familiar steps made me smile. Maybe after a few more sessions I'll fell confident enough to try my hand at it, too.

After skating for 2 & 1/2 hours, the last few members of our group wandered off the ice & we all swapped our skates for street shoes. The coach and I chatted for a while, speaking in an old language I hadn't spoken in a dog's age (words like "scribe" and "patch" mean completely different things to skaters). Before I left, the group told me again how nice it was to have me there & encouraged me to come back anytime. I think I'll have to take them up on that.

Bloom

This week my parents left on a long trip. They're going to spend 3 weeks touring northern Africa & some of the safer corners of the Middle East - aka "The Holy Land". This is the trip of a lifetime for them. See, my father used to be a Christian minister & my mother was very involved in the church as well. By the time I was born my father was no longer a full time minister, but both of my parents had large roles in the church. Dad taught adult Bible study, Mom taught Sunday school, Dad gave the sermon when the minister was away, Mom ran the youth group, things like that. We were at church every Sunday and every Wednesday. It was a major part of our lives. So you can imagine why this trip is such a thrilling experience for them.

In addition to all the other balls my mom juggled in my youth, she was a songwriter. Specifically, Mom wrote contemporary Christian songs (and pretty good ones if you ask me). She had a friend named David who was also a songwriter. Sometimes we'd go to his house where I'd play with his daughter, Summer, while Mom and David would play their guitars together. After writing for other artists (I believe Amy Grant recorded one of his songs), David made an album of his own. I can only remember a handful of the songs that were on that recording, but one that sticks out in my mind is called "Bloom Where You're Planted".

I've been thinking about that song a lot. See, last week I was given a great opportunity. A kind soul called me & offered me a part in a play. Yes, really! I haven't performed on-stage since November 2005, believe it or not, so I was shocked & thrilled. There was a wee problem, though: the show was in Tulsa. If I took the role, I'd have one week to learn my lines before I flew in for tech week. Then I'd spend 2 weeks performing in the play. Even so, I was VERY VERY tempted. But for some reason, I was hesitant, too. I've been in a good mindset lately. I've been getting out a bit more, seeing more shows, getting more involved in this community bit by bit. If I went back to Tulsa for this show, I knew it would kill my momentum. Sure, it could be fun for a while, but then I'd come back to NC. And I'd crash. HARD. Harder than any other time I've returned here after a trip to OK. I couldn't do that to myself. I need to teach myself once and for all that there IS life outside of Tulsa - and not just any life, but MY life.

So I'm staying. And I'm not just going to sit on my ass & feel sorry for myself, either. I'm taking a cue from the trees (and David. I'm going to bloom right where I am. I've made a commitment to get out in the next few weeks & take advantage of some of the things that make North Carolina special. I'm really looking forward to it, too. I'll let you know how it goes!

Hot & Cold

Last week the daffodils in our yard bloomed. I looooooove it when the daffodils finally show us their happy, sunshiny faces because it means that soon the azalea blossoms will burst forth in happy mounds of pink and the trees will be covered in big clouds of white & there will be colors everywhere.

So just imagine my surprise when this happened.

Snow! Hooray!
Understand that I grew up expecting this very sort of weather-related rollercoaster every March. However, that was in Oklahoma. North Carolina is different. Or at least I thought it was. I was sure that we'd already had more than our fair share of snow for the year. Now I'm wondering if we need to buy a snow shovel.

Like the weather, my emotions ran hot & cold this week. I started out happy & excited. On Tuesday night I finally - FINALLY - got to see The Monti again. In case I haven't mentioned it before, The Monti is kinda like a live, local production of This American Life. Each show has a theme & 5 people are invited to tell true, real life stories based on that theme. I managed to see one of the Monti's shows last fall, but its popularity has exploded since then. The tickets for this week's show sold out in just 7 minutes. Yes, just 7! So I was thrilled that 2 of those tickets belonged to me.

The show was everything I'd hoped: Funny and inspiring and wonderful. Just like the first time I saw The Monti, I felt like I was surrounded by like-minded people - people who love the art of story telling, yes, but people who were on my same wave-length in lots of other ways, too. Tim loved the experience and as we walked to the car he said we'll have to find a way to get our hands on more tickets next time so some friends can see this, too. It was wonderful. I felt elated. To be honest, I felt as though I may have finally found a creative, intellectual home.


But you know how rollercoasters go. Just after you reach the highest peak, you plummet down to the deepest depth. That's what happened to me the next day. You know how the color quiz said the my "problem" was that I admired original, creative people? Now I understood how that could be problematic. I couldn't stop thinking about the bios of the storytellers at The Monti. These people had interesting degrees from impressive universities. Or they had intriguing careers. They were published authors or they sang in cool bands or they operated impressive arts organizations. Or or or or.
And it hit me.
What would I put on my bio? I'm a housewife. I spend my days poking about on the internet and, on a good day, whipping up some food in the kitchen. Why on earth would these people be interested in talking to me? Hell, even I wouldn't be interested in making friends with a person like that.

Obviously, something must change.

As the week progressed, our weather has warmed up again. Our high temp should top 80F this weekend. And I am going to use that as my inspiration. Why should my life be cold and bland? It should be bursting forth with color. It should at least be interesting. So I'm thinking about what I should do next. I need to do something that requires me to get out of the house & meet new people. Take a class or something. See more shows. Just start LIVING again. I'm open to suggestion, so if you have any ideas, lay 'em on me. In the mean time, I'll be doing a bit of research next to an open window.

ColorQuiz

Derek recently took this Color Quiz & posted the results on his blog, so I decided to do the same. The results make me sound really difficult & inflexible. Do I have a stick up my butt & I don't know it? Also, it says that my "problem" is that I'm impressed by originality. What's problematic about that?

Mary took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Longs for a tender and sympathetic bond and for a ..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Mary's Existing Situation
Pursues her objectives and her own-self-interest with stubborn determination; refuses to compromise or make concessions.

Mary's Stress Sources
Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high as her own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for preeminence isolates her and inhibits her readiness to give herself freely. While she wants to surrender and let herself go, she regards this as a weakness which must be resisted. This self-restraint, she feels, will lift her above the rank and file and ensure recognition as a unique and distinctive personality.

Mary's Restrained Characteristics
Wants to broaden her fields of activity and insists that her hopes and ideas are realistic. Distressed by the fear that she may be prevented from doing what she wants; needs both peaceful conditions and quiet reassurance to restore her confidence.
Circumstances are such that she feels forced to compromise for the time being if she is to avoid being cut off from affection or from full participation.

Mary's Desired Objective
Longs for a tender and sympathetic bond and for a situation of idealized harmony. Has an imperative need for tenderness and affection. Susceptible to anything aesthetic.

Mary's Actual Problem
Greatly impressed by the unique, by originality, and by individuals of outstanding characteristics. Tries to emulate the characteristics she admires and to display originality in her own personality.

4th Elope-iversary

Yes, it's that time again. Time for spice cake cupcakes! Woo hoo! I have yet to locate the official twin-packed Hostess variety of spice cake cupcakes (What happened to them, Hostess?!?!), so yet again I'm making them from scratch. With cream cheese frosting. Yum.

Last night before we went to sleep, Tim and I talked about the whole "elope-iversary" thing. He said that "elope" doesn't seem like the right word for what we did, but we couldn't come up with anything better. I guess it was kinda-sorta a shotgun wedding (with the Department of Homeland Security figuratively holding the gun), but that doesn't sound quite right either since we actually wanted to get married to eachother. And since we had a proper wedding ceremony 2 months later. Any ideas?

We really do think of April 2nd as our real wedding anniversary since that's the day we said the vows & all. February 4th is just a footnote in our story. An odd little anecdote. We didn't even take photos of the elopement. It was just a legal thing we had to get out of the way to stay together. Just papers that had to be signed. Heck, I didn't even take off a whole day from work. It's not a big deal. Right? Nevertheless, I kinda like to acknowledge it now. I was so nervous leading up to it, but when it was all over a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Tim was here. With me. Finally. And he didn't have to go away again. When you've been engaged for a year & doing the long distance thing for longer, that means a HELL of a lot, lemme tell ya.

Speaking of weddings, lately some people have expressed an interest in seeing our wedding pics. Nope, not just you, Mom. "People" plural. While I was in Tulsa over Xmas, I finally got a disk that contains some of our professional photos from our wedding day (not elopement - wedding!). The photos are a bit jumbled & out of order on the disk and some really good pics are missing (we will HAVE to fix that), but I spied a few good ones amidst the mess, so here they are. Enjoy!

Inauguration Day

I choose not to talk about politics here on the ol' blog, but I don't consider today to be a really "political" day. Rather, it's a historic day. And thanks to a freak snow storm, I was able to experience this day with Tim. We sat on the couch, curled up under our fluffy red blanket, watched the inaugural address, and allowed the emotions of the moment to wash over us. A few tears were definitely shed. It was very special.

A few hours have gone by since then & now I'm just waiting for the parade to start. And that, my friends, is an issue on which I can speak from personal experience. Ya see, way back in 1993 I was in the inaugural parade for President Bill Clinton. My high school band was chosen to represent the state of Oklahoma in the parade. We showed up a couple of days early which gave us plenty of opportunity to visit museums (the National Gallery kicks ass!) and pick up some commemorative buttons. The Bill & Al button is nice, but the button of Bill & Hill is definitely my favorite.



January 20, 1993 was a looooooong day. Full of a loooooooot of waiting on a bus. I have no idea how many hours we sat there in full uniform, starving & desperately needing to pee. I remember that I played Tetris for the first time that day on a friend's GameBoy. And I remember that we heard the inaugural address of the bus radio. Eventually they finally let us out of the bus & that's when we saw Carl Lewis, the Olympic athlete, because he was walking in the parade, too. When we finally started marching, we discovered that, unfortunately, some horses were allowed to march ahead of us & that the roads weren't, um, properly cleaned up behind them. But of course the thing I remember most was the moment when we finally marched in front of the presidential viewing stand. Forgive me, but I didn't play my picollo with proper gusto at that moment, but I think I can be forgiven. It was worth it. Unfortunately, Bill was posing for a photo with some Boy Scouts so I didn't get a great view of him, but I certainly saw Hillary. She was waving like mad! She seemed absolutely thrilled to be there. It was great. I'm sure the people who are in DC today have a pretty good idea of how she must have felt.

Mary Mary ...

When people first meet me and hear that my name is Mary, they often do 2 things in quick succession:
1. They accuse me of being "quite contrary"
2. They ask how my garden is doing.
And they always say these things in a peculiar sing-song tone.

I've never said it out-loud, but a part of me is rather offended by that initial accusation. Why do they think I'm contrary? I've always thought of myself as a rather friendly, approachable, easy-going sort. How would you like it if somebody met you and the first thing they did was call you a grumpy old coot? Wouldn't like it much, wouldja? Especially if it was said in a mocking, sing-song tone. But what is there to be done? If I call these people out on their rude behavior, then suddenly I'll seem argumentative and difficult and, unfortunatly, contrary. My attempts to proove them wrong would only show that they had good reason to think ill of me in the first place. See? I just can't win.

Hmph.

As for my garden ... well, I honestly haven't done much with it this year. I took out some dead bushes and planted some grass seed (damn you, Drought of 2007!), but I've yet to put my own stamp on our garden. I tried visiting a plant nursery for inspiration, but I was overwhelmed by choice, paralyzed by indecision. It was just like picking paint colors. Dizzying. So far all I've managed to bring home is a hanging basket of fuschia. It's a lovely basket, but we need more. The flower bed around the mailbox looks particularly sad since, well, there aren't any flowers in it. Indeed, there isn't anything at all growing in it right now. It isn't a flower bed as much as it is a patch of barren dirt and mulch. I really need to fix that this week. And since I'm mentioning it on my blog, that means I have to do it, right? Because now you people will ask me about it. You'll call and say, "How does your garden grow?" and I better have a response ready or you'll give me what-for, right? Right.

So yeah. I'll get on that. In the mean time, here are some photos of my fuschia plant. Yay.

33

Yesterday I turned 33.
Just think about that number. Let it roll around in your mouth a bit. Thirty three. Thur-tee-three. There's no denying it; that's a properly adult number. I am an adult. With a husband and a house and a cat. Did you know that Jesus died when he was 33? But it's a good number. As the song goes, "3 is the magic number", so 33 must be extra magical, don't you think? That's what I'm telling myself at any rate.

My birthday was a day full of sunshine and food and flowers and phone calls and chocolate and, oddly enough, panties.

Yes, panties. From my mother.

It was such a long day. I wore a new dress to lunch with friends (mmmm ... pizza). I got my car professionally washed and finally picked up my Durham library card (yes, george, finally!). I talked to my mother-in-law, my mom, and my brother, Ray, on the phone. I got a box of fun items from my mom (I'll get into that later!). Sheff bought me some flowers and some adorable chocolates in the shape of little cats and dogs (Too cute to eat!). And then we went to dinner.

Dinner was The Highlight Of The Day. Oh my.

There is a restaurant in Raleigh called the Hayes Barton Cafe and Dessertery. I've been wanting to check out this restaurant for months because the desserts are supposed to be great. Tim was a bit hesitant, however. He thinks "dessertery" looks a little too much like "dysentery". He thought we should go to one of our favorite restaurants and be served my our very favorite waiter in town. But I have been craving something new! Plus, it was my day ("It's my pretty pretty princess day!!!") and it was my choice and that was that.

We had SUCH a good time. The restaurant is small and cozy - the sort of place you'd expect to find along Cherry Street or in Brookside in Tulsa. It has a 1940's theme - black & white photos of movie stars, posters from movies like Casablanca. Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday playing in the background. Red walls & soft lighting. It's romantic, but still casual. Perfect. The best part, though, was the food. Nothing fancy or formal, just delicious & wonderful. Tim's steak with blue cheese was especially amazing. The goat cheese and dried cherries on my salad made my eyes roll back in my head. So good! And then, of course, was dessert. We were both pretty full, so we decided to split a slice of flourless chocolate cake with a strawberry buttercream between the layers of chocolate. There were real strawberries in the buttercream. It was so astonishingly rich! I could only eat 3 bites. It's going to take me a week to finish eating this thing. But that just means I can keep celebrating my birthday for many days to come! Hooray!



So. 33. Thirty. Three. It sounds kinda good. I think I'm going to embrace the glory of the number 3. Afterall, I've been married for 3 years. And our house number is 3. And when we adopted Millie, we added a 3rd member to our household. And we live in The Triangle. So obviously 3 can be great.

Well, except fot the whole Jesus-death thing. We'll just ignore that bit.

Self portrait

Nothin' much happenin' 'round here ... hence the lack of posts. But I just did this meme on my favorite message board & thought I'd pass it along.

Here's how it works:
1. Go to www.photobucket.com (don't sign in)
2. Type in your answer to the question in the "search" box
3. Use only the first page
4. Copy the img tag and paste for the answer (Unless you're on sucky Blogger. In that case, copy the Direct Link tag and use the Add Image tool)



1. What is your real first name?




2. What is your relationship status?




3. What is your favorite color?




4. What is one word to describe you?




5. What are you listening to?




6. Dream vacation?




7. Who is your best friend?




8. Nickname/Screenname?




9. Where do you work?




10. What makes you laugh?