Prove it!

Unless you live under a rock, you know that Kim Kardashian's ass is 100% real.
She got an x-ray on tv to prove it to you. Yes, you. Isn't that big of her? Pun intended.



Megan Fox also jumped on the "prove it" bandwagon this week, showing us that she can't possibly have had botox because if she had...she couldn't make her forehead do this:



So not one to be left out, I bring you a pic of my own. This was taken behind the scenes of a photo shoot a month or two ago. I know you've all been wondering...how can they possibly be real? But yes, oh yes. They are.



I think I'm sooooooo funny.

All kidding aside, I actually have very strong opinions about body image, plastic surgery and the media.

Maybe one day when I'm feeling real ballsy, you'll get that blog.

For now, tweet me @DeenaMarie

Holla!

Perseverance, Perseverance, Perseverance.

I quite possibly may be stumbling upon the meaning of life...







Consider the postage stamp: its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there.
~Josh Billings

I may not be there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday. ~Author Unknown

Never think that God's delays are God's denials. Hold on; hold fast; hold out. Patience is genius.
~Georges-Louis Leclerc

With ordinary talent and extraordinary perseverance, all things are attainable. ~Thomas Foxwell Buxton

Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.
~William Feather



TWEET ME @DEENAMARIE

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I'm into it.

The Office. OMFG how is it that I haven't mentioned this in a previous post yet?!
The last couple months I started at episode one and watched straight through. I was addicted. I've never loved a show (comedy) more. I'm a little obsessed. I'm pretty sure I'm Dwight's biggest fan. I even dreamed we were hanging out and he was throwing me in a swimming pool. What does it all mean?! I'm also pretty sure I'm going to need therapy to deal with the loss of Michael Scott. And to deal with the fact I'm out of episodes for now. I'm also having a hard time believing that they're not real people. That means that my dream of a 24/7 live feed of Dunder Mifflin probably won't happen. It also means that I probably can't change careers and take a job there, right next to Oscar and Kevin. I won't be able to bring back Cafe Disco and I certainly won't spend a night at Schrute Farms.



I'm into my new hat.



I'm into the Glee Project.
#TeamCameronMitchell watch it. Find him on twitter & facebook & support the hell outta him.



I'm into my YouTube friend, Michael Buckley of the What the Buck Show for always helping and supporting my online life and for being simply amazeballs. Go subscribe to all his channels right now. Drop what you're doing and go. Good bunnies.



I'm into doing all that is in my power to make all my dreams come true. I'm proud to be moving forward in "fighting the good fight" and not allowing myself to accept otherwise.

I'm into these quotes:

‎"Never stop dreaming. Follow the omens."

"No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world."

"God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites, so that you will have two wings to fly, not one."

I'm into the book I just finished, "The Pilgrimage" by Paulo Coelho
and I suggest you read the blog I wrote about it last month:
http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/fighting-good-fight.html

I'm into following my heart more than ever from here on out.

I'm into Spiderman. But that's nothing new. What IS new is that I just got my row D ticket to Spiderman on bway in the mail and I'll be there in a week. I don't care what you've heard or read about it. I. can't. wait. And you know I'll be waiting after to meet Peter Parker. I need to buy a new dress. I mean, what does one wear to meet SPIDERMAN?! Especially when he looks like this. Oh dear.



I'm into working out. Ready to start week 6 in the gym for cardio followed by weights and resistance and continue on this path to be what I want to be physically. 5-6 days a week, baby. I'm so proud of myself.

I'm into the poem in th note my friend Emma tagged me in on facebook.

The following is a poem, introduced to me by one of the most powerful souls I've encountered. It speaks to the lexicon of my soul. To know you in this way is my highest wish. This is the tapestry of which I wish to weave our relations... Allow me passage into your heat, offering privy the truest essence of who you are. I offer the same. I love you, now, in this moment. Thank you for coloring my world so brilliantly.

Always,
Emma


It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

That's about it for now... tweet me, huh?
@DeenaMarie

My New York Diaries - Part 14

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That summer at CAP21 I became close to a few of my fellow students. There was Matt, who was the other "favorite" of the acting teachers. We nailed whatever scene or exercise we were assigned and often had magical moments. Particularly in a scene from "Key Exchange" and in a monologue I delivered to him from "Romeo & Juliet".

Ashley was a squeaky clean very young looking performer. You know how sometimes you meet people that seem to really like you and you're not quite sure why? They are drawn to you and desperately put themselves in a position to get to know you and be around you? That was Ashley. I guess it goes back to being an only child, but I have always liked to take a little time out for myself when I'm around groups of people for a long time. So I often chose to go to lunch alone. I'd rush out as fast as I could when it was our lunch break. I would get a sandwich at Subway because while it wasn't the closest place, it was out of the way and I liked that bit of time to myself. One day Ashley caught up with me as I was making my usual mad dash and invited herself. She made it known on the walk there that she completely agreed with me, that it was nice to get away from school for awhile and she liked going with me much better. Great. Now I had a little lunch buddy. She sold merchandise at "Les Miz" and was certain it was going to get her a job in the show. She told me one day over pizza in midtown that her rendition of "On My Own" was "better than anyone I know".

Then there was Paul and Diana. They were my favorites. Paul was young but very mature and an adorable gay boy. Diana was from Brazil. She was loud, funny, everyones favorite and could belt like nobody's business.

I'll never forget her renditions of "Maybe this time" and "A New Life". She had such a natural gift. It came so easy to her, but it was almost too much for her to handle. The way she had to stand to brace herself for this enormous sound to come out was unlike anything I'd ever seen. That was one of the most interesting things about acting school. Both at CAP and at ATC. Seeing everyone's beginning. What they could do and could not yet do. What they were aware of and not yet aware of. How they learned to harness their gifts. Watching how everyone developed and gained awareness was nothing short of incredible.

I went out with Paul and Diana a few times. I have pictures of us all out for mexican food and margaritas. I really loved hanging out with them but a threesome is awkward. I remember feeling like they were really bonding and I felt a little left out.

I was in awe of the bios of all our teachers back then. Tours, broadway, you name it. Once one of my dance teachers and I found ourselves alone in the bathroom at the same time. I was so excited to get the chance to ask her some questions and show her how I'd read her bio by asking her about certain roles she played. She seemed pretty young and I was in awe of all she'd done. Plus, she had a tattoo of her sign on her ankle that I thought was pretty badass. Performers weren't supposed to get tattoos, right? We'd both played the role of Diana in productions of "A Chorus Line" so I figured that was a good place to start. But when I tried to talk to her she was very cold and gave me one word answers. I told her I'd done the show, too. "Judy?" She asked. "Uh, no. Diana." I responded. "Oh". She said and left. Um...okay.

One day toward the end of CAP I snuck out of a ballet class early and got yelled at by that teacher the next time she saw me. This teacher was older, she'd been doing this a long time and she didn't take any bullshit. Oops. I felt bad, I felt guilty. I was disappointed in myself. If I remember correctly I had no excuse other than I was being lazy that day. I was tired, and I'm pretty sure I wanted to get out and see The Guy.

I remember a voice teacher I had who was very supportive and made sense to me. I liked learning from. I liked the new songs he was introducing me to. I always wished I'd had the funds to continue on in private lessons with him.

I passed his info to The Guy who needed an emergency vocal coach once. I can't remember why he needed him, he wasn't a musical theatre performer. The Guy came back with a story about going to his house where the voice teacher kept referring to what The Guy was pretty sure was his partner as his "houseguest" and later that night when I was at The Guy's he kept calling me his houseguest.

At CAP one day we played a game one day called "Essences". I loved this game and I've always wanted to play it again within a group of friends in a cast or class. You sit in a circle and each person takes a turn. If it's your turn, you choose someone in the circle but you don't reveal who you've picked. You go around the circle then and everyone asks you a question such as: What season are they? What scent would they be? What color would they be? What animal would they be? etc. You can be creative in your questioning and when someone thinks they know who it is based on your answers they can ask you. It's fascinating. Fascinating to see how people see you and how, depending on who it is and how well you know each other, you can almost guess quickly. After we played, I journaled what others had said about me.

July 20

I'm sensual, mysterious, mature with a hint of naiveté as well as facade. A hawk, a peacock, forest green, a plum, france, turkey, a sugar coated pastry, fall...this is all according to Matt by the way. To Paul and Diana I'm jade, pink, sparrow, hyena, vodka, a cosmo, mexican food, pink.

* * * * * * * *

I'm glad I wrote those down. I never would have remembered otherwise and it's still interesting to me. Most of those weren't and are not how I would see, identify with or describe myself. I'd be so curious to hear what others would see so many years later, as a woman.

Meanwhile back in The Bronx, the foreign roommate that I literally never saw the entire time I lived there was suddenly moving out. A new roommate would be coming in! This time it was a guy, Darren. He looked like a young Mark Wahlberg. We became fast friends and started to hang out. He was mysterious. He was nice and we got along but he had a little bit of a bad boy vibe and I'm sure he did alright with the ladies. Upon meeting him you might have thought he was in NYC to be an actor, but no. He was a musician. And not the kind of musician you'd expect. I went to see him a few times, once where he was playing in a pretty nice restaurant. I went with Paul from CAP. Darren would play the guitar and sing some surprisingly pretty mellow stuff. One of his signature songs was "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay"! We also went dancing a few times, to huge crowded clubs in the city and stayed until the wee hours of the morning.

I remember he liked to smoke the ganja and was always knocking on my door to see if I wanted to partake. That wasn't really my thing so most of the time I said no, but always thought it was, um, nice of him to ask. And ask again.

One day he knocked on my door because someone had given him a box full of cigarettes. Cartons and cartons of lucky strikes. He knocked to offer me my own carton. Those I took from him, and took out on the town with The Guy and his roomate, Ty. We went to a beautiful, hip, modern bar where I almost wasn't let in. The Guy said not to worry, Ty could always get around this. Ty talked to the man at the door, I don't know what was said but the next thing I knew we were inside. Upstairs at a table in one of the coolest NYC bars I'd seen yet, smoking my lucky strikes from Marky Mark.

I was loving seeing The Guy and always getting butterflies in my stomach when I knew I'd be seeing The Guy. I don't think I could still grasp the concept that it was real. I still couldn't get over how handsome he was and how he was there to meet me when I'd see him coming down the sidewalk. I lived for the weekend when I could cross my fingers and hope for a call. I was always nervous about it and while I was certainly enjoying myself, a part of me was waiting for it all to mess up or disappear. Anytime he wanted to see me I'd drop what I was doing and jump at the chance.

My second year at Atlantic would be starting up soon. This was the year you had to be invited back for. While I wasn't worried about not getting an invite it was a sigh of relief to receive my letter in the mail to confirm my spot. And it wasn't really a surprise to anyone when Martha was not asked back.

Now that year one was done, we could also audition. I'd begun to go to auditions as soon as I could. I booked a reading pretty quickly. Wasn't a big deal, but it was nice to do something else. I also started auditioning for "The Donkey Show." I auditioned three times. As it turned out, three times was the charm...




Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html
Part 10: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-10.html
Part 11: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-11.html
Part 12: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-par-12.html
Part 13 (with an extra shot) http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-new-york-diaries-part-13-with-extra.html

Creature Panache: Black Chandelier

Last friday I walked the runway for Creature Panache, the Black Chandelier runway benefit.

I've modeled for BC numerous times, but I gotta say this was the first time I've been in a fashion show wearing only body paint.

But actually, I felt more covered up than I have in certain theatre or burlesque performances!

It almost looks like a wetsuit! I loved how it turned out. And just in case there are any prudes of pervs...NO i'm NOT completely nude. You're not seeing anything other than you'd see in a swimsuit ;)

One day when I'm old and wrinkled I'll look back at these pics fondly and remember what it was like to hit the gym and feel damn good walking that runway!


Some of the most talented peeps you'll meet...

Photos: Ethan Killian
Body Painter: Gailon Justus
MUA: Danielle Carlsen
Hair: Salon Tantrum
Black Chandelier Designer: Rachel Domingo

My New York Diaries - Part 13 (with an extra shot)

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I debated wether to make this entry purely the next installment, or about where I am in the writing process. One day when I truly have turned all of this into a book, it will be elaborated and expanded and while it will be my truth, it will be a story. A story of a long time ago full of experiences that will only get farther away and harder to remember. I like that right now I can write about the then and the now. How I'm feeling through this process, today.

It's been a weird time. It's what I would imagine therapy to be. I'm reflecting and linking together all that has happened in my life to lead me to who I am and where I am right this very minute. I'm realizing there are behavioral patterns I've (surprisingly) kept. I've realized there are things I never properly dealt with. I am realizing there are aspects of my personality I should never ignore and should always keep an eye on. I'm realizing that while people can and do change, there is a great part of us that is wired from the start and that's just a fact.

Thank god I have My Sweetheart to talk this all out with. Time and time again, he gets me through.

Now onto part twelve...



June 4

...thinking about The Guy, the fact that he called, the fact that he called, the fact he probably likes me, the fact that I liked him at first sight and the fact that I'm getting the chance with him through all odds...

...I knew there'd be a way. I never knew how I'd meet him, I didn't know how it'd happen after I found out he had a girlfriend of two years, but I knew it would...

...I have to keep reminding myself that he's just a guy, just a person, like me. Possibly scared, intimidated etc and that he just possibly could be sincere and that I do deserve it. "It's been a mysterious world for me". He said he's relationship phobic, in a nonchalant way, and while I think if I had a relationship, if I just had that rock there in big bad NYC I'd be okay...I also truly know I haven't a clue how to go about a real relationship and I'm so out of practice, so jaded, I'm scared to death of one!

I don't know how a relationship works. I think maybe all I need to do is learn not to be scared to be myself. That's all I'll ever be and whoeer ends up with me will be because of that. So I'd like to say, when responding to "I'm phobic of relationships", that I don't accept that as an excuse. Who isn't? I am. It's just assumed. But it can never be an excuse. Because (to quote "Meet Joe Black") you have to "keep yourself open, you never know when lightning may strike".


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


My summer visit back home was over quickly. I got sick with pneumonia at the end and suddenly time was up. I was a little nervous as I returned to NYC later that month. But I would be busy immediately. I was about to start the six week summer intensive at NYU's CAP21, their musical theater program.

I enjoyed this first summer living in NYC. Now that I look back, and maybe I'm romanticizing, but it held magic. What a time. What a special time of firsts and of new things and things that will never be again.

I remember seeing The Guy almost as soon as I got back. I remember what I was wearing and how I was sweaty and sticky and terribly anxious and excited as I walked through the streets to meet him. I met him at a friends house in the city where he was giving them a tv, or picking up a tv? Can't quite remember. We went to his place in Brooklyn after. He lived with his best friend, Ty, but we were home alone when we got back to his place. It was the first time we'd been together since my birthday. It was the first time we'd been alone in awhile. We took advantage of that on that hot and sunny afternoon.

This is when I truly began seeing The Guy. We started see each other just about every weekend. I was more and more head over heels every time I saw him.

CAP21 gave me a chance to be in my element and to meet new people. I met a lot of new friends there and we went out a lot during those six weeks.

I loved performing my assignments and discovering new songs, new scenes and learning from teachers who once again helped and inspired me.

We also had guest teachers and to this day I often think of the one that told us that when you're at an audition, despite all the other other people auditioning, it's only "between you and whoever gets the part." That's always brought a great comfort and clarity to me.

I think one of the most positive things to come out of the CAP21 experience was that I gained a boost of confidence. I don't even know if I was fully aware of it then. But in moving into a big pond, I found I was a little fish. When I started school at ATC I had began to wonder if I was still special. I'd been used to being the chosen one. Now, I wondered if it would ever be that way again?

At CAP I was the best actress. Whenever there were scenes or acting exercises it was myself and a guy who were the "star pupils" for lack of a better term. I was feeling a little "schooled-out" still, but the experience was like a little burst of the familiar in a new unfamiliar life.

I remembered again, this is what comes easy to me. This is where I should be and this is what I do.



Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html
Part 10: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-10.html
Part 11: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-11.html
Part 12: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-par-12.html

My New York Diaries - Part 12

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Adrianna was staying in a hotel in midtown. She had plans with her friends during her visit, but she made a lot of time to hang out with me. I remember one of the first things we did was go to lunch. I wanted to eat at TGIF and she couldn't believe I wanted to go to a restaurant I could go to any time, rather than somewhere particular to NYC. She reluctantly agreed and while she made it known she wasn't happy with my choice, I felt a little comfort in something familiar.

I remember bits and pieces of her vacation. I remember trying to keep my sadness from her but eventually I let it all out.

I remember going to see "The Rocky Horror Show" with her and getting the time wrong and making us a half hour late. I remember going to an audition or two. I remember being glad she was staying in midtown and I didn't have to spend all my time in The Bronx.

One night we went to The Donkey Show. This was an off broadway musical based loosely on Midsummer Nights Dream. It was set inside a club and took place around and in the audience, stages, stairs and booths. The music was all disco. Songs the characters sang included "Ring my Bell" and "Don't Leave me this way". Puck was on roller skates and painted gold from head to toe.

I spent my saturday nights ninth through twelfth grade going disco skating. I was obsessed and convinced I was born in the wrong decade. Discovering the Donkey Show was life changing. And in face, I'd later have a very personal experience with the show.

We stayed long after the show was over. We drank, danced on the speakers and had a fabulous time. Eventually we went back to her hotel and I think this was the night she tells me we got cigarettes and tried to smoke them in the hotel room at the window. I have no memory of this!

Her trip was such a strange time for me. I went from muffling my sadness to pouring my heart out. I never liked to (and still don't) admit if something is wrong or show any kind of weakness. But I needed someone to talk to, more than I knew. I needed someone older and wiser and objective to what I was going through and what life was like at barely twenty years old.

One of her last nights there we went to a bar at the top of a hotel that slowly spun in a circle. I thought it was the absolute coolest. That is until I came back from the bathroom and my seat had moved and I had a moment of panic before I found it again.

This was the night that Adrianna, who always seemed so cool calm and collected, poured her heart out to me. I saw her become completely emotional and tell me things that blew my little mind at the time. I also felt comfort seeing that she had bad times, struggles and issues too. It meant a lot to me at my low point to see cracks in her typically together demeanor.

More of the same entry from the previous blog (which I wrote on summer vacation at home in SLC).

June 3

"...at first I didn't want her to [Adrianna coming to visit]. I felt horrible, I didn't want to have to put on a happy face and I've never felt close to her. The trip was weird, I still knew I was not myself and began to worry about myself. But I saw Rocky Horror and Donkey Show and stayed in a hotel on 34th and 8th and ended up having some great talks with Adrianna. Especially on the last night. She opened up to me and I saw her at her most vulnerable. I saw the Adrianna that is so deeply hurt, but never admitting it. I saw she does have pain, saw her as a completely different person. I think we did a lot of good for each other.

...I cannot ever be thankful enough for our talks about sex. I so desperately needed to talk to a family member about it...now I have a fresh new perspective and feel so at peace.

I turned twenty this year. I'm still having a hard time with that one, but it's getting easier. I thought I was so old. No longer a teen, but at this very moment I feel much more at peace with everything and I feel that it could be the start of something new. A brand new, completely different chapter of my life.

Before I came to SLC I realized I'd become my own worst enemy. Always pushing myself, yelling at myself, beating myself up. Losing confidence, self esteem and knowing I was the only one taking it away. Here and now I'm rediscovering myself, getting to know myself, maybe learning who I am and what I want to be at last. So much darkness has passed in and through me and my entire family this year. One thing after another since my move.

Now I feel happy again but I still find myself holding my breath. I don't want it to disappear. The Guy, Rob back in my life and finding closure here with certain issues. I hope it's real. It's so needed, so deserved. For the first time in a year I'm finding myself living in the moment, too. And learning to like myself again. Feeling much more connected to myself again. All I can do and hope for is to build from here.

One lesson I learned this year was to be proud and happy, sometimes satisfied in my work. What a feeling, to be proud, confident in my acting. Trying to remember to "wipe my feet at the door". I'm trying to apply it to my every day life as well. I thought nothing of my major move and what I would go through, what it all entailed, but now I am so proud of myself. So glad the hardest part is behind me. I'm to be commended. I've asked a lot of myself and always come through despite being ruled by a slave driver - me. It's time to respect and take time with myself and make friends with myself.

I've also learned that other people are not ever going to be perfect, and to take them for what they are, learn from them and know I don't have to try to change them or abandon them as friends because they aren't perfect. If I don't then nobody, including myself, will ever live up to my expectations because perfection doesn't exist.

I'm starting at CAP 21 [NYU's Musical Theater program] on June 25 for six weeks. I see a glimmer of light at the end of my tunnel. I'm full of hope again. My hope will get me there. My determination will get me through. I'm not going to lose my sense of self again in the shuffles. And I have to learn not to be scared, not to have fear, but to just be me. Just be Deena. "

* * * * * * * * * *

This section feels like a strange and emotional time of transitioning and trying to feel, to catch up with myself. I think I did, as best as I knew how. But believe me when I say that up until this point...it's only the beginning. Stay tuned.



Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html
Part 10: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-10.html
Part 11: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-11.html

Make it so.

Just wanted to tell you two things.

1.) I'll resume the NYC blogs in the next day or two.

2.) I've decided today that I'm going to make all of my wildest dreams come true. Simple as that. There is no other way. You hear me, universe? Let's make it so.

"happy & healthy" - blog by Leann Rimes

PLEASE read:

"I love you and want to see you happy and healthy"

http://www.leannrimesworld.com/blog/leann-rimes-cmt-new-original-movie-reel-love


WELL SAID, Leann Rimes!
My sentiments exactly.

tweet me: @deenamarie

Buzzin' around.

It's a busy time!

Had to get some important things filmed and sent off.
But made sure to take a real important pic or two while at the studio.


Got to have lunch with my friend Kori who I haven't seen in ages. She has a 7 month old now and he's pretty much the cutest baby I've ever seen in my life.


Still getting in my gym time, week four and I'm addicted!


Tomorrow night is the Black Chandelier runway show. A combination of models body painted by local artists as well as lovely wardrobe. Yours truly? Paint only. Oh my.
That's me on the poster.


Saturday morning my dear friend Gabe is in town and we get to have brunch.


Saturday night I'm judging a talent contest, just call me Simon.


Sunday is our "Hair" reunion. Yes, the tribe is [almost] all in town and we'll be having a pool party, one year later!


Got a pic back from last weeks Fashion Stroll, but still waiting to see more from all the lines and creations I got to wear.
Especially the one with the sandwich hat on my head. Yeah, you heard me.


Planning my time in NYC. Figuring out my schedule, when to see shows, deciding what shows to see and coordinating with friends in the city. I can't wait. I'm so excited I can't stand it. Especially in the midst of writing "my new york diaries". It will be interesting to see how I feel on this trip, particularly. Right now, the time can't come fast enough. Although I wish I would've tacked another day or two onto my trip now.


That's it for now!
Tweet me @DeenaMarie

My New York Diaries - Part 11

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After school wrapped up the second semester we were done for the year. Wow. My first year of Acting School in NYC! It was a year of such change, and all at once. Leaving everything and everyone I'd ever known at home. Moving away from my childhood home to be in NYC. Having to find an apartment. Having to learn the subway system. Not even knowing how to do my own laundry or cook a thing. Thrown into a city where I could get into clubs and bars under age. Falling head over heels for The Guy. The heavy school load. Going from getting every leading role in every show I'd ever wanted, feeling like the "chosen one" to being just another student. I wasn't used to that. Was I still special? None of us even being allowed to audition for the first year. Not knowing how to take care of myself or my body. Making poor decisions. Overeating. Drinking too much.

When I'd first moved there I was timid. I felt out of place. I felt scared. It was in my body language and I wasn't even aware of it at first. I moved timidly through the streets, literally, and was constantly being bumped into and shoved. I soon did a 180 and was barreling my way through the streets in no time. But I didn't realize I was over compensating. Approaching everything as if someone was out to get me. Behaving rudely off the bat in order to survive. Shoving back. So many people seemed to be rude. Sales people everywhere were so different than they were in SLC. I couldn't believe it. I took on their behavior but it began to eat away at me.

I was having a hard time with marrying my NYC and SLC lives. My life in SLC had changed, I'd changed, friendships there had changed. Even my home life had changed and my childhood home and beloved bedroom was no more.

I was hoping to move out of my apt. in the Bronx sometime the next year, I was dying to be in the city. I was hoping to find a sense of home in NYC.

It was all too much. Too much for 19 year old me to take on and process in a healthy way. When school was out I fell into a sadness. A sadness I didn't want to admit to.

My journals jump here, I went awhile without writing. But thankfully the next entry is practically a summary of what was going on during that time.




June 3

"Where to begin Where to even begin? So here I am, come full circle back in SLC. The snow globe, no, my snow globe, enclosed in those mountains I once wanted to be gone from. I think about all that went on on this snow globe alone, how much has and is and always will go on outside of it. How it once was my world, my oyster, and how now the mountains have closed in a little. A little more each time I'm home. How good it smells here. How safe it feels. How peaceful, how easy, how perfect it is. I'm constantly evolving, always changing, learning and growing. Realizing, realizing! What a time for reflection it's been. What a dark period I'm out of now. Knowing how to answer the question of how life is in NYC.

I'm happy. I'm scared to even write it. So many things I'm scared to write, feel, think. I'm afraid if I'm at peace, and even dare to breathe it will all disappear. I feel the shattered, out of order pieces of my life falling, sliding into place and I don't want to lose that. Something tells me I wont know that I've survived the toughest year of my life and can come out on top. There's been so many versions of me. I feel like they were different people. Tonight my mom said she felt as though I put myself on hold while in NYC this first year. I agree. I was on auto pilot.

Now that I'm home to reflect and re-gather myself, I can't believe how tough this year was. I'd never want to live it again. I didn't have time to think about what I was doing. I never let it sink in the entire time I was there. I feel as though I've wasted a year of my life. Or an important few months, anyway. Not in the way of pursuing my goals, chasing a dream or working on the career, but personally. I was neglectful, stupid and completely abusive. Destructive, even. I was letting my body go. I couldn't get myself straightened out in the way of what was now "right" or "wrong". Doing anything and everything along the way because I wasn't myself. I was desperately and rapidly trying to put all these pieces together, to build a life. A new identity. I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted to be a party girl. A lot of drunken nights I'd like to forget. Friends (okay, Martha) that I didn't like. Trying to like Mark, sleeping with him, finding disappointments and no satisfaction along the way. Chaos. Complete chaos.

I don't remember what Christmas vacation was to me there. Something other than what I wanted or expected, I'm sure, since that was always the case with me. Realizing how fucking fat I was, not seeing Rob and thinking our friendship was just one more thing I'd fucked up. Getting my act together a bit more and determined to work harder when I'd go home. Today is the first day I can write. Really write, honestly and deeply. It was always so therapeutic. And it really shows me how much I put myself on the back burner. If I even put myself on a burner at all, because something had happened to me there. I so desperately needed to write, but every time I'd try, I couldn't. I couldn't have if my life depended on it.

Anyway, I don't even remember my plane ride home from Christmas vacation. I do remember opening that door to my room that morning in the Bronx, laying out my clothes from y suitcase so they wouldn't look too awful, laying down and falling asleep for barely two hours in the wee hours of the morning before I had to be at work study. How that room was musty. Unfeeling, suddenly. How I had one week of work study to make up before school started. How I'd run up my cell phone bill a thousand dollars and had no phone. How I felt sad but didn't dare to think of it so I could still thrive somehow...

...the first six weeks of that spring semester much better. Me busting my ass big time for school. Me going back to SLC for one week of spring break. Such weird, bad energy. It all happened so fast. I didn't tell friends I'd be home. It was so boring all day by myself I would have been better off in NYC. Even The Guy called! The next and last six weeks of the spring semester were much more lazy. More positive in some ways, but at the same time the worst of my life. I was done with the god damn technique, I felt schooled - out. I was more homesick each passing day. Realizing my joy was performing. Plays, which I hadn't done since september.

I hated Martha and loathed the thought of her in my apartment. I hated my fucking apartment. Hated the neighborhood. The fuckers that yell and stare and hiss on the streets and in the deli's I'm forced to go to right by my place, where I couldn't stay out of during a sugar (namely cookie) addiction (which I've now conquered, thank god). I'd eat a whole fucking bag by myself in two days!

The subway rides were getting longer and even more grueling each ride. By the time school was out I found myself at an all time low. I was so depressed. I'd watch t.v. all day and night. For one weekend I was actually even panicked to walk outside, let alone peel myself up out of bed to walk to the bathroom. When I went outside I was scared, confused and disoriented. I couldn't make any kind of decisions. I didn't have a desire to do a thing. I was lethargic.

But now that I'm reflecting it wasn't all bad. In school, second semester totally surpassed fall semester. I absolutely loved my group and grew like you wouldn't believe as an actress. I went on an incredible journey with "Golden Boy" as well as closed my first year with it by having the last scene of it on the last day of the last class with Tucker. I was one of three first years to do the All School Presentation, and the only first year to do a scene for Mamet.

I ended up getting my ass to auditions, though. Some bad, some good. Then my aunt Adrianna came to visit..."




Adrianna was the aunt who was best friends with Kyle. Kyle from the very beginning of my NYC journey. She had lived in NYC herself, for ten years. At first she worked as a nanny then later in the legal field. She had her share of crazy stories, nights out, good and bad apartments, friends and broken hearts. She often came to NYC to visit.

She was coming right smack in the middle of my darkest hour. I wasn't really up for visitors...but maybe someone was about to come who would truly understand? A lot happened during her visit that I'll always remember. That part of the story will come next.




Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html
Part 10: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-10.html

My New York Diaries - Part 10

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

March 30

"Well, last night was my birthday party. Last night was my first night out with The Guy. This isn't sounding like how I wanted it to. Maybe I shouldn't write just yet. I need to just listen to my music and think. Rewind and replay. He's courteous. He's gentlemanly. He's so incredibly beautiful. I forget what it's like to wake up next to someone. I could get used to that. I'm so scared. So terrified out of my mind yet I want to make an effort with him. I want to call him right now so bad my heart hurts. And that's what's scariest of all."


April 6

"One week since that delicious party. Well, I hadn't talked to Jenny since the night before I left for spring break...

[during spring break The Guy called wanting to get together, not realizing I was out of town. I couldn't believe the timing. It was also a strange time for me to be home. I'll elaborate more on this in the book but things had changed at home and this was the first time in my life I returned "home", but not to my childhood house. A lot was changing in my life. In my parallel lives, you could say. It was all at once. It was strange for me but I pushed my feelings aside, wanting to quickly return to NYC]

...so before my party we planned to meet at 8 at Java Shop. Flash back to a few days earlier making fliers in The Lounge, The Guy seeing them and inviting himself. So as I'm walking into Java, I check my messages...The Guy's trying to pass time until 10. So he meets us. He buys my drinks.

[I learn that his ex had moved to NYC with him from Louisiana]

We got to the Mars Bar. Me, The Guy, Jenny, her new boyfriend, the boy that had the party with goldschlager, Bobby, Oscar and his new girlfriend, Mark, Lynne and more. Martha showing up with a bouquet of flowers. Such great vibes. I was in all my birthday glory. Best birthday in a long time. Beats slumber parties. The Guy buys me food and drinks, and my friends buy me food and drinks and I'm told I'm not allowed to pay for a thing. I get a free mudslide on the bartender.

[It's amazing that I was almost never carded, and not on this night. We told everyone that I was turning 21, rather than 20 and nobody ever asked for proof!]

Then we move to St. James Place. Crazy, crazy night. Each place was an adventure in itself. Lots of dancing going on and I get The Guy to dance with me. A big deal for someone who "doesn't dance". Here, he asks me if I remember stairwells. If I ever think about them. Does he? Yes. Frequently? Yes. The bartender gives me a free birthday shot. The Guy gets me a midori sour on his own, remembering it's my favorite, although earlier swaying me to drink a long island iced tea. Then there were some men, one in a sparkly black dress, not like a drag queen but god knows why. And they want to take a picture with me, so I do. Mistake. Then they come back wanting to take a picture of me kissing the dress boy. Uh, no. Then there's the third place. The sexy greek place. By this time it's only me, The Guy, Jenny and her boyfriend, Oscar, one more guy friend and Martha. Sexy, sexy place. Me dancing up there with Jenny. Oscar and Jenny's boyfriend told by The Guy that he likes it better sitting down so he can watch me. Flashback of earlier in the night when he tells me seeing me dance was just one more thing to intimidate him. Even earlier flashback, he says he almost chickens out of coming to my party, and telling himself to "just call her!" But I got him up and we danced together. Since the last bar, lots of smooching...

...this time I'm able to take him up on his offer of going home with him...

...we fall asleep. The alarm goes off two and a half hours later but we don't get up. He puts his arm around me tightly, kissing my shoulder...I wake up all through the morning, knowing he needs to be at a rehearsal but I'm in a haze. I have to keep looking at him. I can't believe he's really there. It's The Guy. Making sure he doesn't disappear. Eventually we're forced to get up. He's two hours late. Shit. Then all day I wonder if going home with him was right. And I know I'm okay when I see him later at school. And then almost every day after at school..."




Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html

My New York Diaries - Part 9

I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!

*All names are changed

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I couldn't sleep for three nights leading up to David Mamets visit.


March 25

"I feel as though I'm married to my career. Sometimes I feel it's my career, other times I feel like I'm just kidding myself. Is it a big deal I pursued my dream? It never feels like it. Is there something to be said for what I've done? Am I really about to perform for David Mamet tomorrow? If I live through it...what does it say? What does it mean to be picked? My birthday is in two days. What does it mean to be twenty? What should I have accomplished? Am I giving it my all?"

David Mamet was scary. There we were, students from every class crammed into one of the bigger studios. It seemed like an eternity waiting to perform. When it was finally time I was beyond nervous. We never got through the entire scene. Some scenes did and some didn't. He kept stopping to critique, make changes, have us start again, etc. That was basically what his master class consisted of. It's all kind of a blur.

I just remember he was loud and intimidating. I do remember that later he had picked an unassuming older red head girl from another scene to be in one of his movies. I was always in awe that things like that really did happen and bummed that he hadn't chosen me to be his next star. All in all, performing in school for David Mamet is something not many people can claim, and I'm very proud of that.

Master classes were something that happened regularly at school. My two favorites were John Ritter and Mary Steenburgen. John was so funny and made me laugh out loud. My favorite part was (which was in line with the schools philosophy) when you're onstage "it's all in". If you ignore something happening it's no longer believable. Yes, it seems obvious but you'd be surprised. He told us about an example of a glass shattering all over the stage and the barefoot actor actually walking across it, refusing to address it! His impression of the actor doing this was hilarious. He also told us about timid actors who didn't take the stage and a performance where an actor basically stood half in the curtains and shadows on the side of the stage! Again, his reenactment was hysterical.

There'd be a time the next year I'd get to have a long conversation with him. More on that later.

Mary Steengurgens class was one of the most inspirational experiences I've ever had to this day. I'll never forget it. She's so beautiful in person, she glows. She spoke to my heart. Even now, writing about her I get choked up. She spoke of her time in NYC going to school, training and doing plays still on a very small scale, just trying to "make it" like any of us that were sitting in the room listening to her. She talked about looking in the mirror and asking herself if she'd be happy if this was it. If this was "as good as it gets". It made me immediately ask myself. Oh my god. Would I be happy? Could I live like this? At this point I'd only done school and community theatre. If that was all I ever did or could do, would I be satisfied? Would that be enough? What if that was as good as it got?

She also told us the story of getting cast in her first big movie alongside Jack Nicholson. She was sent away because she wasn't physically right for the part. She'd had it. She took a risk that day and did something completely out of character. She refused to leave and demanded that they see her! Can you imagine?! She then sat down and kept her head down, scared and not believing she'd just done that. A pair of shoes appeared in front of her and she heard a voice telling her she was going to be seen for the audition. She slowly looked up. It was Jack! She stayed up all through the night rehearsing her sides for the callback, read with Jack the next day and was cast.

There are more stories of guest speakers and teachers coming up later as my story unfolds.

Anyway, after I survived Mamet it was time to turn twenty. My birthday was March 27th and Oscars was just a few days later. We scouted a few locations for a party. We made fliers and hung them in The Lounge. We were set to celebrate on March 29th.

On my actual birthday, it was a school night and my first birthday away from home. I think I just wanted time to myself. I bought myself a second row ticket to AIDA. I often liked going to the theatre alone, as it would often make me emotional. A friend in school, Kim had a best friend who worked at the AIDA theatre. She said she'd meet me there when the play was over for a tour of the stage and a meeting with Adam Pascal. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I've never been the type of person who wants to "meet a celebrity". I mean, that'd just be weird. What would I say? We're all just people. I certainly didn't want to look like some super fan. But then again it was Adam Pascal.

I was hoping Kim would forget. In a crowded theatre I could surely sneak out. But of course I bumped right into her on my way out and before I knew it I was up onstage looking out toward the audience! And then we were going down stairs toward the dressing room. Halfway down, Adam came up. There in the stairwell we were introduced and I think I spoke chinese. He. Was. So. Handsome. He had very blue, twinkling eyes and was so nice. To this day, for whatever reason only meeting him (and Gavin Creel) made me nervous. It's something about theatre actors. It's something about just having seen someone give an incredible performance and still processing it and being blown away and then there they are before you can even collect yourself...it's overwhelming. Far different than a random celebrity sighting on a NYC street.

In the end I admit it. I like the bragging rights of meeting Adam Pascal backstage after AIDA and I realize how truly sweet that was of Kim to meet me there, alone on my birthday and do something so kind for me.

Then the party happened, and this would truly mark the beginning of my journey with The Guy.



Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html

Fighting the Good Fight

A few blogs and a couple of months back I wrote about my discovery of the Camino de Santiago and my desire to go there. While it didn't work out that I was there in May, I still plan to go. When the time is right, I know I'll find myself there.

In the meantime I am still learning and reading about the journeys others have made.

While his reasons for walking the Camino are perhaps very different than what mine are and many others I've read, Paulo Coelho's "The Pilgrimage" has proven a very fascinating read. It's the story of his own personal journey on the trail.

I'm almost done, I've been going slow, taking it with me to the gym and whenever I'm on the bike I read a little bit. I should probably take something a little lighter with me, I feel like every so often my jaw drops or my eyes fill up with tears.

If you're a fan of "The Alchemist" you should read "The Pilgrimage". You'll see exactly why he wrote it and how much of it came from his personal experiences on the road. I had no idea.

Anyway, back on page 56 started a few pages that I can't get out of my head and I've been meaning to copy & share them.
In a nutshell, this is what his guide on the road is telling him at this particular part of the walk...

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"We must never stop dreaming. Dreams provide nourishment for the soul, just as a meal does for the body. Many times in our lives we see our dreams shattered and our desires frustrated, but we have to continue dreaming. If we don't, our soul dies and agape cannot reach it. A lot of blood has been shed in those fields out there; some of the cruelest battles of Spain's war to expel the moors were fought on them. Who was in the right or who knew the truth does not matter; what's important is knowing that both sides were fighting the good fight.

The good fight is the one we fight because our heart asks it of us. In the heroic ages-at the time of the knights in armor-this was easy. There were lands to conquer and much to do. Today, though, the world has changed a lot, and the good fight has shifted from the battlefields to the fields within ourselves.

The good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young and our dreams first explode inside us with all of their force, we are very courageous, but we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight, but by then we no longer have the courage to go into combat. So we turn against ourselves and do battle within. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams were childish, or too difficult to realize, or the result of our not having known enough about life. We kill our dreams because we are afraid to fight the good fight."

The first symptom of the profess of killing our dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the good fight.

The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don't want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory or defeat is important; what's important is only that they are fighting the good fight.

And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams-we have refused to fight the good fight.

When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being. We become cruel against ourselves. That's when illness and psychoses arise. What we are sought to avoid in combat-disappointment and defeat-came upon us because of our cowardice. And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It's death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoons.

Time to press pause

If you've been following my blog, then you've seen I'm in the process of writing "My New York Diaries". I'm up to part 8 which begins the second semester of my acting school experience. It's been wonderful to get this out. To remember, to recall, to have this chance to write and share such personal and entertaining stories.

What I didn't expect (but should have) was how emotional it was going to be. Yesterday I asked my sweetheart to help me scan some pictures to post in this blog. When I went to open up my photo album and choose the ones to be scanned, I couldn't. I could hardly look at them. I started to cry and I couldn't get a deep breath. My chest felt heavy and tight and I was completely overwhelmed.

I've looked at these old photo albums plenty of time through the years without reacting like that. My sweetheart is the best man in the world, and told me he just wanted to hold me and we could do this later.

I felt so stupid. I mean clearly I needed to get some emotions out, but it surprised me and I didn't want my sweetheart to think that I was missing my old life or unhappy in the present.

What I learn more every day is how wise and supportive he is. It's unreal.

We abandoned the picture task and went downstairs to watch episodes of The Office and just relax.

Later on, laying in bed I asked him what was wrong with me? We had a big conversation where he told me nothing is wrong with me, he has told me before how sensitive I am and how deeply I feel emotions. How he knows that's why I'm a good actress. I'm very in tune with my emotions and the emotions of those around me. He calls me an empath. He said my emotions are often just under the surface.

He also told me that I'm in a place in my life where for the first time in years I'm able to breathe. He said while he had experiences and lived out of the state and met new people and went new places, what I did was still different. I had gone from being surrounded by family in my cozy house my whole life to waiting for strangers to recognize me at the airport in NYC one day. How much went on the second I got there. Having to do a million things I'd never done before all alone in a new place. All at the same time. How it's particularly special because I was 19.

I agreed. Had I moved to NYC right now with so much more life experience it would be night and day. He said, "you're never 19 again". He was right. Of course! At 19 everything is a first. Everything is new.

He also went on to tell me how things have been a whirlwind for me from then, leading all the way up to us being married and me living in our cozy house we're in now with each other and our puppy.

Now I can relax. I can breathe. I have the time to soul search, process a big part of my life and chain of events that brought me to right here, right now. He said he's sure when people write their autobiographies there are plenty of tears and emotions involved.

He thinks it's all positive, and he's always interested and anxious to read the next installment. He hopes I do turn this into a book and was a big part of encouraging me to write about it in the first place.

Did I tell you he was wise and supportive, or what?

Anyway. Today I am taking a break. I'm usually really excited every day to get more out, but today I need to step away.

He's right. This is definitely the part of my life where I can relax and breathe more than I've been able to do in a really long time.

It does bring up old feelings to write and relive that strange time. It's almost like a sense memory exercise. I can remember the texture of the pants ant the way they snapped that I was wearing while writing about a night out. I can remember the sound of the buzzer to get into the ATC building. I can remember pangs of heartbreak, loneliness, fun and craziness. It will never be that way again. First times. I don't ever want to forget how it felt and I'm happy I'm writing this before it's all too far away to recall but it is hard to do. Hard and good.

I thought it was important to document the process of this and how I'm feeling while it's happening. It's part nostalgia, part parallel lives, part reconciliation and and ultimate marrying of all of my experiences.

Accepting and allowing.

Thanks for reading and supporting.

I feel so lucky to have so much of my life documented in my journals. There is so much more to come. I don't know how I can not share it.


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