All I Want For Christmas is A Root Canal...

I really wish I could afford a root canal, or, alternatively, that I had comprehensive dental insurance that would cover the costs of a root canal.  My top right first premolar (next to canine) is incredibly compromised and needs not only to be filled, but needs to have a root canal.  The pain is usually bearable or not-noticeable, but at times I will get headaches stemming from the nerve pain in my tooth.  It's really uncomfortable and makes my right sinus cavity feel like it's being squeezed.  That's what's happening this morning.  That, on top of rehearsals till 10:45pm and getting up at 6:30 every day this week, and the stress of impending opening night...well...it's making this headache even worse and making me feel like a little ball of emotional implosion.  I just might cry.  I mean, not because I'm especially sad, or because I'm really stressed (I mean, the stress is not overwhelming.  It's show stress, after all.) but just because the release would be welcome.

Someone find me a pro bono dentist - STAT!

Heddoh, inderwebbs. (Hello, interwebs.)

I've had a nasty sinus thing for three days now -- to the point that I took off work yesterday (all 5 hours of it) so that I could continue to just sleep all the damn day in order to have enough energy for rehearsal last night.  Because, seriously?  Thursday night (Day 1 of sinus thing)?  TERRIBLE REHEARSAL.  My energy was about negative 35 when we started, so the first two scenes felt crappy/draggy, even with the excellent efforts of my leading/supporting men, and then when I finally did have some energy by Act 1.Scene 4, I couldn't remember my damn lines, because my entire brain felt as if it were wrapped in cotton gauze.  So I had to call for line twice, and feel like an idiot.  And have I mentioned I get water thrown on me FOUR TIMES DURING THIS SHOW??  So I was wet, on top of it all.....

Hence the ghetto sangria this evening.  I had a pretty easy day of it -- slept in late, have taken at least 2,000mg of Vitamin C today, plenty of fluids...lots of down time...went to the gym and did light cardio (only 300 calories) to get the blood pumping and hopefully helping things along...but now it's late and I can't really just go to bed -- the lovely Ms. Molly is here for her week with us, and Jack's at work, so I feel the need to at least be conscious--so I am trying to keep myself present...so obviously, Ghetto Sangria is the answer.  About equal parts orange juice and red wine...so you get double anti-oxidants and vitamin C!

"Beyond Therapy"

What an awesomely busy and tiring New Year!

We started rehearsals for Christopher Durang's Beyond Therapy as soon as the holidays were over.  It's been raining steadily for the past two weeks, but that first week of rehearsal, I was going to the gym in the mornings, racing home to shower, biking to work, racing back to the house & getting picked up for rehearsal, then rehearsing til 10pm.  With the rain, I haven't been doing the biking to/from work, but the days are still just as busy.  I haven't been in a full-length play since the spring of 2004, which is leading to a certain amount of self-consciousness and doubt, but I've been really invested in getting off book as quickly as possible and committing fully to all choices made onstage.  It's been an exhausting and wonderful process so far.

The show opens on Feb. 5th, plays three shows each weekend, and closes Feb. 28th.  The 6-person cast includes the lovely & talented Kathleen Ennis (who also happens to be Jack's ex-wife & Molly's mom), 2 young actors from the junior college who are really talented (Sean Trew & Tim Glidewell), a professor from the JC who I actually worked with in a Christmas revue years ago (Charles Mullins), and a Modesto actor who's done some work with Prospect Theater in the past (Josh Bower).  We all work really well together and it's a very supportive atmosphere.  The director, Ron Lane, is a friend of Jack and I, and he is just a doll to work with.  He had me cast in his head months before auditions and has given me incredible support and freedom.  It also helps that the character, Prudence, is a character I find myself identifying with.  It's really just such a wonderful play and I couldn't be more thrilled to be working on it.

I'm totally stressed about making sure I retain all the lines -- although I have been off-book for a week, this week's rehearsals found me getting stuck in places where Durang's lines for Prudence in one scene are similar (or in some cases, have the same exact lead-in phrasing) to other lines either in that same scene or in a different scene.  It's forced to me call for line more times than I'd like.  I shouldn't worry as I am, because making the mistake in rehearsal (for me, at least) is often a good indicator that I won't make the mistake in performance.  But because I haven't been onstage (MyMK47 shows notwithstanding) in years, I feel rusty and nervous.

...how do you get to Carnegie Hall?   Practice, practice, practice...

Menfolk.

Jack is terribly congested and miserable with a nasty sinus cold.  I have tried very hard not to take care of him, because I just end up getting frustrated, since his version of taking care of himself does not include: drinking copious amounts of liquids, eating low-sodium broth, vitamin C, vitamins of any kind, orange juice, zinc, or anything else proven to help the body's natural defenses.

Instead, when he wanted a "brothy soup" today, he ended up getting 5 packages of Top Ramen (after I had just pointed out that Progresso was all on sale, though not picking any particular kind) and has eaten three of them today.  Which, according to the nutrition information, means that he has ingested approximately 240% of the DRV of sodium, or about 2700mg.  And not drank very much water to counteract this intake.  He has taken some Nyquil and quietly gone to lay down, the poor miserable man.

This morning, he told me I should take mega-doses of Vitamin C so as not to get sick myself.  I gave him the longest look, and he asked "What?  Am I telling you something you've already done?"  And I refrained from saying "Hey, goober!  Just because you're already sick doesn't mean that Vitamin C is going to be of no use to you!  ...telling me to take Vitamin C..."

But you know, we all have our different ways of being sick and miserable.  Mine is inherited from my mother, and I have an inborn nurturing sense, to boot, so it makes sense that my methods of recovery involve copious amounts of all the things listed in the first paragraph.  And I know that I tend to be grumpy when sick, and very stubborn, so I'm not about to force remedies upon a patient who shows no sign of wishing to be treated.

But I really wish he had drank more water today!!

Dun Dun!

Two weeks off from work is too much.  I never know what to do with myself, not even with a short list of necessary projects to complete and a play to memorize so that I don't feel like a fool when rehearsals start in six days.  (Please note:  I have not started any of said short list of projects or said memorizing.)  I have gone to the gym, and that's about the extent of my productivity, if you don't count doing the dishes.

However, Jack (who has a comparable amount of time off) has been watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent on Netflix like it's free heroin.  So far he has gotten through Seasons One & Two in their entirety, with yours truly joining in for most of the 2nd season.  Since all of this Vincent D'Onofrio-being-brilliant watching has happened in such a compressed period of time, I am now losing my mind...

...I have begun to think that everyone is a criminal in a case I know about (but don't know that I know about, natch), and that they are subsequently planning my murder -- in order to erase all of my knowledge & their connection to the case.  Every time I walk to the gym, I fear my fellow pedestrians: Modesto's not a walking town like New York, the amount of pedestrians are few and far between -- and those who are walking are as likely to be a delinquent or derelict of society as they are to be a good, kind upright member of the community.  I swear of the eight people I've passed on the sidewalk in the past two days (yes, only eight -- I told you no one walks!), only one of them was without suspicion...

...last night, I had woken up in the middle of the night & was calmly lying there, trying to fall back to sleep, when I heard the unmistakable sound of my phone receiving a text message.  I was tempted to get up to see who it was (who texts at 3 am?!), but immediately thought: "This is a plot!  They know that I know, even though I don't know that I know, and they've gotten my phone number somehow and they are hiding, waiting for me to go into the kitchen, where they've cut the smallest hole in the glass, just big enough for a bullet (silenced, of course) to pass through so they can take me out!  Little do they know, our front yard just begs to be walked upon, as the recent rains have turned the soil into something like wet cement.  Their prints will lead Agent Goren to my killer in no time, and my memory will be vindicated!"...

...ok, I didn't quite think all of that, just the possibility that it was a message whose only real purpose was to get me out of bed at 3 am to ambush me....I didn't think of the details of the ambush or how they'd get caught...I promptly started thinking of anything but L&O:CI and listening to the sounds of Jack's sinuses (they get all stuffed up when he sleeps, poor guy) and eventually fell asleep.

Obviously he and I need to do something other than watch Criminal Intent for the next few days.

iSpec.

GOT TO GET THE CRAFTS DONE!!

I have a baby blanket for Mike & Marianne's baby that is still in progress and a striped scarf for my momma, and I do NOT have much time, so the grandma reading glasses are on, the coffee is hot, and Nutcracker is queued up on Hulu.  Let the crocheting/knitting begin.

Tipping the scales (ish).

I definitely gained five pounds from Thanksgiving week.

No joke.  If you recall, I joined the gym shortly before Thanksgiving, and at the "fitness evaluation" they make you take, I weighed in at 136.  Not a number I like, but not in the dreaded 140's.  For me, I associate the 140's with my last year of college.  It was a number that I was proud of but not happy with, because I was still out-of-shape, with little muscle tone, and I did not feel healthy.  Healthier, yes, but not healthy.  When I moved to New York, the change in lifestyle and the countless miles logged walking around the city was enough to firmly push me into the 130's, but not to give me much tone, which is why I was determined to join a gym when I could one day afford it (which I did, and gained that desired tone, yadda-yadda-yadda...)

Well, I was a good girl & went to the gym 6 out of my first 10 days (starting Mon. Nov. 16th), but then lapsed on the Wed. before Thanksgiving.  And proceeded to have four non-stop days of eating -- which included two full Thanksgiving dinners and one amazing Basque meal (more on that at a later date).  And on that following Monday, I was at 142 lbs.

YIKES.

I haven't seen 142 in four years.  So I panicked.  And felt miserable for a couple of days.  But continued to go to the gym.  And since I know that as I'm gaining muscle, that number won't drop quickly (as muscle weighs more than fat) and since I am beginning to feel healthier, I'm keeping positive, because I know it isn't about the number, it's about how I feel.  How I feel overall is glad to have the gym membership, as it not only gives me a place to work on my physical health & well-being; the workout itself tends to have a calming influence and an "un-wrinkling" effect on my psyche, regardless if the wrinkles are large or small that day.

DAMN YOU SELF IMAGE.  Why must you be so....perpetual?

Get in mah belleh.

There are a lot of things in my belly.  A cookie, two pieces of bacon, some coffee, a bite of Rocky Road fudge, a bite of turkey...

Plus yesterday, although I showed more restraint than previous years, I certainly did my part in eating the entire world.  So now, whilst I wait for Molly to wake up & eventually get picked up by her momma (at which point I will dress & go to the gym), I am going to watch an old favorite on Netflix:  "Auntie Mame," starring Rosalind Russell.  ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES EVER!!!!

Go get it and see it right now...you will not be disappointed.  I am now going to pick up my crocheting and commence watching said amazing movie.

A poem, written today, Nov. 21, 2009

You were smaller then.
You did not know such things,
nor did you think to ask of them.
They simply were not.


But they crept in,
slowly, insinuating themselves
into the dark corners.


One day you turned too quickly,
and they stared you in the face.
You gasped, grasped for stability.
They would not leave.
Once seen, a thing cannot be unseen.
Once known, a thing cannot be unknown.


Now you knew where they were.
You tried to avoid the dark corners.
You took cautious steps.  You did not run.
Smiles became measured, laughter checked.
A too-loud sob could awaken them.


The colors on the trees never seemed as bright as they did that last autumn of childhood and you have wished every day since then that time would stop insisting its way forward so that you could reverse your step and unsee and in unseeing, un-know, but it cannot be done and so instead you walk through the streets with your head down and your eyes lowered for fear of what you may see.


All the while, they sit in the dark corners,
silently crying.
Were they so hideous, that you should fear them?

Joined a gym today.

Depression & addictive behavior run in my family. The Dickinson women, especially, have a tendency to low self-esteem & setting-the-bar-high-for-oneself standards. Which results in a lot of internalized conflict and self-doubt, which begins to develop into depression which is numbed with fillers — like alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, food, etc.

Food has always been a self-destruct tool for me. I have, since I was at least 12, struggled with my body image. I was much sturdier and stockier than kids my age growing up, and somewhere between 8-10, the baby fat started to just stay and as I grew up, I also grew around. I wasn’t obese, or terribly overweight, but I wasn’t willowy or lean like a good deal of the kids I knew — or like the models, actresses & public figures. I have no idea when I became a compulsive eater — hoarding food, sneaking candy, pouring 1/4 sugar onto dry Rice Krispies so I could let the sugar sink to the bottom & eat it at the end of the bowl — but somewhere along the line, I did. Food was an escape, it was an out — if I was left home alone, the only real “bad thing” I wanted to do was to eat up all the food in the house, especially fatty/sugary treats.

I still find myself doing this 18 years later, as an adult who is cognizant of nutrition & a healthy lifestyle. I go on uncontrollable food binges, and have more than once in the past three years been guilty of devouring an entire 1/2 gallon of ice cream in 45 minutes, or a cake (frosted) in one night, or a 6-piece fried chicken with french fries. I have to end up throwing things away or else there are times when I know it will be nearly impossible for me to stop myself.

My overall daily eating habits are not bad — much healthier than many, I would think. I try not to eat meats with too much fat content more than twice a week, I make a conscious effort to get vegetables in me, I stay away from sodas, processed foods, etc. But there are these moments of weakness.

And my metabolism is none too high.

So, when I belonged to NY Sports Clubs for nearly two years, I was ecstatic. It was so great to have long stretches of feeling healthy and truly comfortable in my own body. I know there will always be “jiggly bits” to me, but the leanness and tone I had gained was a first for me — literally the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE that I had been fit. It was such a blessing and gave me a new perspective on my own confidence.

When I moved back to CA, I couldn’t afford a gym membership & I wasn’t particularly strict with food intake (it’s hard to live in the beautiful CA summer and not feast on BBQ’s, hamburgers, steak dinners, grilled cheeses…). Although I am still a smaller version of myself — if you didn’t already know, I was 185lbs when graduating high school…and about 150 when I left college…after moving to NYC, I dropped another 10 just from all the walking around the city — I have lost a lot of tone and can definitely say I am out of shape. If it wasn’t for needing to bicycle places, I’d be even worse for the wear.

The “moment of truth” day was a couple of weeks ago when I noticed that my face was really starting to fill out. It sent little panic shivers through me and I had a mental flash of having an extra 15lbs on — and how uncomfortable in my own skin I had been when I was at that weight. My circulation was different when I was 150, my panic attacks were more frequent, and I felt a lot more tired a lot more often.

So, after depositing the check for services rendered for my directing work, I went to InShape City this morning to find out about their package. I signed up for a three year deal—and it was a special, no enrollment fee, month of Nov. free deal — I only paid $109 for the startup processing and key card, and starting Dec., I only pay $40 a month for an all-inclusive membership.

I can’t wait — and I’m excited that I got the chance to start this before rehearsals start for “Beyond Therapy.” My hope when I was cast in that play was that I would use that wonderful opportunity to force myself to get into better physical shape — because I know from my training that when the body is tuned/fit/ready, the mind can utilize it all the better for acting — the first read-through of the show isn’t until Dec. 16, so I’ll have a month headstart on it.

I could go on for paragraphs more about all my food issues and weight issues and body image issues. I won’t — I’ll just say again how glad I am to have a gym membership again. I know I’ll never be a bony runway model — but I also don’t want to be one. Working out gave me appreciation for the curves and the angles — my clavicles became my favorite thing, but I also loved how I had stopped seeing my child-bearing hips as a curse — instead they were incredibly womanly and the contrast of my curves to my angles was sexy to me…bring on the elliptical!!