persephone33: (redshoes on bookstack)
( May. 17th, 2011 01:32 pm)
Most of you know that I have two Labrador retrievers. We have Abbey the sweet, yellow lab, who is the newer addition. She was raised by some friends of ours but then by happenstance came to live with us only two years ago. Then we have Katie, the black lab, who Nolan brought home with him the first year we were married.

I love these dogs. You know how some people are nuts about their pets? I mean really, really crazy? Yeah, that's me. I love these girls like they were actual people. And funnily enough, one of them really doesn't know she's a dog, so it works out.

Today's blog was inspired by my three hour visit to the veterinarian. I noticed while sitting there, playing solitaire on my ipod, that nearly everyone in the waiting room either looked like or had characteristics similar to their dog. It was funny. I'm not going to lie, I giggled to myself several times.
In which Kate is annoyed by the other dogs... )

Everyone seems to have an opinion about social networks. Some people have a unbridled love affair with them, and cannot have lunch without tweeting what they ate, and some people think that blogs are the downfall of western civilization.

For my part, I'm somewhere in the middle. I've had my Livejournal nearly six years, and though I started with only other site users (and my mom) as readers, thanks to sites like Facebook and twitter, the entries I leave public can be read by anyone, including the guy I sat next to at my high school graduation (I honestly hadn't ever met him - it was a big school), my friends or even the unabomber.
Rambly, wordy, opinions herein... )
Two performances down, two more weeks to go.

Three of these guys have taken my class. That makes me smiley.

Honestly, I've had mixed feelings about South Pacific. It's an "old time" musical, one that has a long first act and a long second act, and repetition to ensure that the songs are firmly etched in your grey matter when you leave the theatre. (I can testify, having awoken this morning to my brain singing, "I'm bromidic and bright as a moon-happy night, pourin' light on the dew!" as the soundtrack to some COMPLETELY inappropriate dreams. Stupid subconscious.)

bro·mid·ic – adjective
pertaining or proper to a platitude; being a bromide; trite.

Huh. You learn something new every day.

Wherein I wax poetic about the theatre... )
persephone33: (Blah blah blah blahologist)
( Aug. 25th, 2010 12:58 pm)
As a writer, an actress, an artist and a fellow human being, I receive at least a rudimentary form of criticism for everything I do. Whether it's a review for one of my stories, someone who doesn't buy one of my bags, a raised eyebrow at one of my watercolors, or not getting cast when I audition, being criticized is tough.

I'm going to tell you a secret. I don't handle criticism well.

At all. Even a little.

What I do normally is call my mom and bitch about it, or throw a hissy fit, or vent for a while, and then I feel better, but there may be healthier ways to deal. (Not that those don't have their place, because they do. Certainly.

As an adult, a grown woman, and a recovering bitch, I've learned a few things about accepting criticism graciously. Or at least with a minimum of bloodshed.

6 ways to deal... )

Now I just have to practice what I preach. Harder said than done. :)
&hearts Old downtowns that have too many one-way streets confuddle my limited driving skills.

&hearts I will park two blocks away from the building to which I need access just so that I don't have to go through the humiliating horror of parallel parking.

&hearts The new Body By Victoria bra from Victoria's Secret is a marvel of modern engineering and should be declared the eighth wonder of the world.

&hearts When you go into the mall with money, with every intention to buy yourself a new dress, you will find only matronly lace monstrosities or horrifically short miniskirts that do not flatter your figure, no matter how hard your bra is working.

&hearts Li, the pedicurist at Q Nails gives one heckuva a foot massage. I want her to move into the guest room.

&hearts A large Diet Coke from Sonic cures a multitude of ills.

&hearts Dean Winchester is the undeniably the coolest character on television since The Fonz.

&hearts I am BESIDE myself waiting for Thursday's 100th episode of Bones. Like GIGGLY about it.

&hearts I'm ridiculously excited about leaving town this weekend with my husband. Even if it is just a business trip. A resort in San Antonio is still a resort.

&hearts Laundry is perpetual. Eternal. Infinite.

&hearts You can never think of anything really profound for the last bullet point, thereby leaving your audience feeling a bit cheated at the end of the post.
persephone33: (I talk to myself)
( Mar. 19th, 2010 05:52 pm)
Some rhetorical, some Socratic, all valid.

Why do the workers finishing the road near my home insist on starting their Earth movers at 6:30 in the morning?

Why can I sleep through anything but that noise?

Why do my children find a way to argue over even things that they AGREE on?

Why do I spend time thinking about people who have hurt me?

Why do I still care about said folks?

Why is it 35 degrees during Spring Break?

Why is it when I can't turn my head, the Chiropractor has taken the week off?

Why is it that some of my dearest friends live so very far away?

What does the color blue taste like?

Why, when I need to hang on for dear life to the barely tangible threads of plot, that my characters want to chatter on about nothing in particular?

Why is Penny dating Leonard when Sheldon is the clear choice? COME ON!

Why won't Bones and Booth JUST ADMIT THAT THEY lurrrrrrve each other?

Why do mushrooms taste so good in everything?

Why, when I KNOW I need a good wine opener, do I CONTINUALLY forget to buy one?


I think I'll soldier through with the wine opener I have, have a few glasses, and maybe I won't care about these questions quite so much. ;)

Good day to you all.
What a wonderful show.

I'm not normally one for looking back. I keep one eye ahead, ever forward, but I can't help but to take a bit of time to acknowledge what a singular experience the past two months have been.

&hearts I got to work with an extraordinary amount of talent and dedication, both onstage and off.

&hearts I was part of a true ensemble. That is rare.

&hearts I got to work on a gorgeous set, with a crew who took excellent care of me.

&hearts I got to eat my weight in olives that I put in all my "martinis."

&hearts I had the good fortune to get to interpret a fabulous script with more funny lines than I'll probably ever see again.

&hearts I got to perform in front of sold out houses, who spoiled us with boisterous laughter that went on and on for ages. I do so love holding for laughs.

&hearts I got to dust off my "deep south" southern accent that I love so much.

&hearts It was the fastest strike ever. Like pulling off a band-aid.

&hearts I got to be a part of the director's vision, and brought my piece to be part of a really wonderful whole.

I'm tired, and frankly, still a little worse for wear from all the red wine I drank last night, but just wanted to put into words all of the love I have for the people that were a part of my family for the last eight weeks. I love this part of my life, the temporary little panaceas that are created with each and every play I do, and I wouldn't change it for the world.
As I now live in my sedate, homely little burgh of one hundred-eighty thousand people, I sometimes forget that I grew up in Irving, Texas; that's a suburb of Dallas, for those of you not well-versed in the geography of the Lone Star State. The city, if you include Ft. Worth and count the surrounding cities, comes to a staggering one point something kagillion people; no lie. Anyhow, I grew up there, traveled all over the metroplex, learned to drive on the highways and byways in the nebulous group of towns where one bleeds right into another and the only way you know you're somewhere else is the tiny green sign you blow by at eighty miles per hour.

I say eighty miles per hour, not because it's the posted speed limit, but because if you choose not to go that fast and say... obey the law, you and your car run the risk of being flattened into a greasy spot on Interstate 635.

I wasn't even driving when we were visiting this past weekend, but Nolan did a great job of maneuvering us through the mess. And he didn't even seek retribution of the other drivers - regular readers of this journal know that my husband has to sometimes be convinced that he is, in fact, NOT the right hand of God, distributing justice to those who've wronged him or others on the road - especially with the people that change lanes giving a hairsbreadth of space between cars. It's an adrenaline pumping, heart-racing thrill ride that you simply forget about when you live in Amarillo. That is, until you come to a screeching halt and you're just STUCK in a line of traffic that you think stretches perhaps as far as Indianapolis, making me absolutely PINE for the annoying series of stoplights on Bell street surrounding I-40, and the fifteen minutes that gets you absolutely anywhere you want to go in town.

I miss the shopping in Dallas, the nightlife, my family and friends, but driving fifty minutes to work for a fifteen mile trip is not something that I ever want to go back to. Amarillo's breezes may not be the best perfumed if they come from the general direction of Hereford, but there's wide open spaces y'all, more sky than you can shake a stick at, and some of the most awesome sunsets that you'll ever see. Come visit and see for yourself, only behave yourself on the roads. I can't watch Nolan ALL the time.
persephone33: (my idea of housework)
( Jan. 4th, 2010 07:42 am)
I've thought a lot about resolutions for this year. I don't normally make them 'cause if you're me, rules are only made to be broken. :D

However, a friend posted this devotional this morning, and I think it deserves a re-post. It comes from the Bible, more specifically Romans 12, and 2000 years later, it still rocks out loud. Even if you aren't a Christian, these are pretty fantastic goals for your life.

1. Love must be sincere.
2. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.
3. Be devoted to one another in love.
4. Honor one another above yourselves.
5. Never give up. Keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.
6. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
7. Share with people who are in need.
8. Practice hospitality.
9. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.
10. When others are happy, be happy with them, and when they are sad, be sad.
11. Be friendly with everyone.
12. Don't be proud and feel that you are smarter than others. Make friends with ordinary people.
13. Do not repay anyone evil for evil.
14. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.

Some of these need particular work in my life. *coughcough* But I feel like that pretty much covers anything I could resolve, in one way or another. Long story short, I think 2010 is gonna be a good one.

Have a good week, y'all.
persephone33: (rock on)
( Dec. 31st, 2009 10:37 am)
I've done this in the past and some of these are mildly amusing, so I thought I'd do it again. I took the first sentence, or sometimes the title, from the first post of each month of 2009. I liked 2009. I think I'll miss it.

Year In Review )
I've been up for two hours and have been watching it snow the entire time. It shows absolutely no signs of stopping, which is fun. We have nowhere to go for New Year's Eve, So I really don't mind a bit of weather. It's pretty, too; the white has blanketed everything the winter has turned ugly and dormant.

Tomorrow begins a new year, a clean slate, and empty canvas on which I can start all over again. The orderly part of me, the small, tiny part of me that is left-brained, really enjoys the idea of starting over and making lists that i can cross things off of. I even have some resolutions. So. *bounces on toes* All you kids have a safe New Years Eve, and I'll see you in 2010!
persephone33: (Extremely stubborn and suspiciou)
( Dec. 28th, 2009 10:29 pm)
My kids are with the in-laws for a few days and since I've been alone, I've had time to be very thoughty today, which isn't always necessarily a good thing.

Though I'm a solitary creature by nature, I also have a social side. I had a friend once tell me that relationships are cyclical. That we evolve and mature and move on, and sometimes move past the people that we were once close to.

I know that sometimes that relationships are bound by time, that sometimes due to family or other time constraints or distance, or lack of like interests, people are unable to remain close. I can understand that. It's a fault of mine, as well. A lot of my friends have gone by the wayside because of this.

I'm not talking about marriage, either. For me that's a covenant, not merely a relationship. It's a relationship I choose every day. Plus he's right here next to me, and too loud to ignore. ;)

But the people right here in my town? What do i do about them? It makes me wonder, as I blow through friendships left and right, if I'm not doing something wrong? Maybe I need to make more of an effort? But you can only give so much, you know? You can only put yourself out there so much without receiving anything in return. Maybe I'm bad company. That's possible. That sounded maudlin and self pitying, and I'm really not feeling that way at all. I'm pretty happy, actually. Just thoughty.

Ah, well. The kids are going to be gone for a few more days and I have a lot of time to sort through these thoughts, and maybe call a few of these estranged friends of mine to go have lunch. Or maybe not. I'm kind of alright by myself, too. :)
I like to think I have a rather easygoing disposition. Maybe too much so - I'm profoundly uncomfortable with disagreement. I don't argue. I don't fight. I don't like debate. Though, I feel like normally I can see both sides of an issue pretty well. It's not as if I have an opinion and am too scared or choose not to share it, I'm simply ambivalent most of the time. Honestly? I don't care. Either that or I'm crippled by the decision making process. (But only in things like what restaurant to go to or what I'm going to write. Nothing truly important.)

When I do have an opinion, and I think the person I'm talking to can handle it, I share it. If not, I just keep quiet.

However, there are people in my life who seem to have a pathological need to share an opinion. Who adore debate. Who think that a down and dirty, scrappy, no-holds-barred, fight to the finish sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon.

So how do I meet those needs since I'm the complete opposite of that personality? How do I meet them in the middle? Because honestly? It's becoming a bit of an issue for me.

And I think we can all agree I certainly don't need any more issues. :P
"I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

-- Theodore I. Rubin, MD
persephone33: (Carrie in Flowers)
( Nov. 21st, 2008 04:40 pm)
I went to a funeral today.

And if you can say such a thing, it was the best funeral I've ever been to.

It was truly a celebration of a life, not a mourning of someone's passing.  My across the street neighbor from when we lived on Sunset Terrace passed away on Sunday.  He was a sweet, sweet man, who always had a grin and wave, even in passing.  He was a huge supporter of the theatre, and he was always sitting front row center at all of my shows (as well as everyone else's, I'm sure) and he always had a kind word to go along with that infectious smile.  He made special treats for the boys on every Halloween, and baked an endless supply of Christmas treats each December.  Everyone loved Dennis.  And isn't that how you want to be remembered?  As someone who made a positive impact on people's lives?  I do.  And so I will try to take a leaf out of Dennis' book.

The family had a couple of our theatre friends play and sing Love Song by Elton John, and Let It Be, by the Beatles.  It was awesome.

Dennis will be missed.  Sorely missed, but I'd bet that he's in a much, much better place than here. 



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