The Twisting Turns of Life

Lawdy, lawdy... it's AUGUST?  How has that happened?  Summer has slipped away in a tailspin of bar work, fun (what I'm passionate about) work, blogging, cooking, filming myself eating good food at amazing New York spots, teaching, and huge amounts of self improvement.

I usually dread Winter.  A lot.  And at this point I can feel Winter creeping closer and closer, and with each passing day, as the days get shorter, my chest tightens with anticipation and anxiety.  But right now I'm trying to focus on the fact that I LOVE Thanksgiving (totally already planning my Delicate Princess Tummy Thanksgiving), I'm getting two new beautiful nieces this Winter (/Fall), and maybe, just maybe, Winter in New York is a beautiful thing that I haven't been able to enjoy because of my negative Nancy, depression clouded view of life that I've had for the past three Winters.  Maybe I'll be able to enjoy the Winter Wonderland this year (after all, if Dean Martin calls it a Winter wonderland, it MUST be true)!

So, all that being said, I've been meaning to come in here and update the webosphere about my goings on.  I just haven't gotten around to it.  But this morning, my book of daily meditations gave me the perfect set up for everything I want to say, so I'm taking that as a sign and a jumping off point for sharing.

From Each Day a New Beginning by Karen Casey (Daily Meditations for Women):  Quick note about this.  I have recently begun a journey towards a more beautiful relationship with myself and my higher power.  I don't mean a Christian God or a Buddhist God or a Native American God or a Greek God.  I just mean... my Higher Power.  I truly believe in my Higher Power (or HP, as I lovingly refer to Him), and I'm truly working on getting closer to Him.  I will devote a whole post to this, for those of you who care, but one of my steps towards this relationship is beginning every day with prayer and meditation, and I find this to be a WONDERFUL meditation book for women.  Anyway... Quick note done.  Onto the meditation:

"The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind.  Hone and spread your spirit, till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff."  ~Annie Dillard.

Our progress today, and certainly our serenity, is enhanced by our willingness to accept all that we are blessed with today.  Not only to accept, but to celebrate, trusting that these events are moving us toward our special destiny.

Flowing with the twists and turns in our lives, rather than resisting them, guarantees smooth sailing, helps us to maximize our opportunities, increases our serenity.  Accepting our powerlessness over all but our own attitude is the first step we need to take toward finding serenity.

Resistance, whether it is against a person or situation in our lives, will compound the problem as we perceive it.  We can believe in the advantages for growth that all experiences offer.  We can sail with our experiences.  We can be open to them so they can carry us to our destination.  We can trust, simply trust, that all is well and in our favor, every moment.

When I began this quest for balance one year ago today, I can only imagine what I would have said if I'd read this post.  Probably laughed at it, mocking myself as a religious fanatic using a Higher Power as a crutch to deal with life.  I was stronger than that.  I knew what I wanted.  I was going after it.

The funny thing is, none of that was working.  I was fruitlessly chasing a carrot... except I didn't even really know what the carrot was.  I thought it was a carrot, but usually is was really Jameson or a bad decision that thrust me further into a state of unhappiness.

I certainly never thought I would be working on a food blog that I was extremely passionate about.  I couldn't forsee that I would be teaching improv in Long Island to kids.  And I certainly couldn't imagine going back to school.

That's right folks, Brittany is going back to school.  I'll be studying online, and though I'm currently narrowing down which school I'll go to, I'm planning on getting certified in Holistic Nutrition, and then working towards a Masters in Nutrition.  I'm not giving up on acting, though I'm switching gears a bit.  Assuredly, some people may read this and scoff, saying that I am giving up and "falling back" on this... but I see it as further growth.  I was given the gift of a highly scientific mind as well as a highly artistic mind, and I am following both.  I will continue studying and teaching improv, I am working on a theatre collaborative with a group that we're going to submit to festivals next year, and I'm going to be a holistic nutritionist.

I am trusting my experiences.  This blog has developed so easily.  It's been a lot of work, but I feel like the little yellow path is being laid out brick by brick before me as I go along.  I'm not beating my head against a wall, like I have been with this acting business.  Acting has become a business to me.  I lost sight of the art.  I'm so thrilled to rediscover my passion for acting, as well as perpetuate this passion for healthy eating that has been sparked inside me.

Who knows?  Maybe I'll end up with a network television show in relation to my blog.  Maybe I'll have a business as a Holistic Nutrition Consultant.  Maybe I can't even IMAGINE where this is going to take me.  I'm not going to resist.  I'm going to accept these gifts and use them.

And I haven't felt this joyous about life in years.

Random Sunday Thoughts

A lot is happening over at my other blog.

Which means it's nothin' but dead silence in here.

[crickets]

I made an awesome "Master Project List" with 4 big headers that are my main goals on it, and underneath, I put all of the little tasks I need to do towards those goals.  I've been SUPER busy (in a good way that makes my heart sing) this week... and not one thing on that list has been erased.  I guess I wrote all the wrong things on my to-do list.

Making that Master Project List on a dry erase board has been on my to do list for months now.  So at least I did it.  I just can't cross it off anything now, because it IS the to do list.  And I haven't done anything on it.

So... that's a bit of an Ouroboros.

Today my yoga teacher said something I really liked... and I tried repeating it over and over in my head so I would remember it... but now it's 8 hours later, and my brain is mush anyway... but it was something along these lines:

"Yoga is a slow attack on the ego.  It isn't all wheat grass and Lulu Lemon."

What she meant by that, she explained, is that the postures are hard, and if you tell yourself you can't do them, you'll be right.  Your ego will win out.  Whether you tell yourself you can or can't, you're right.

I liked that.

And it's totally one of the main reasons I love Bikram so much.  It's such a mind game.  And it's applicable to all aspects of life.  For example, yesterday I got incredibly tired at work after working an 11 hour shift the night before (until 4 in the morning), and then returning to work a few hours later to work another 8 hour shift after 4 hours of sleep.  At first, it was easy peasy.  But once my Venti iced coffee wore off... I crashed. The more I thought about how tired I was, the more tired I felt.  So instead, I turned on my Bikram brain and said,  "I'm not tired!  I have super amounts of energy!"  And it kinda worked.

I liked that.

Random Sunday thoughts.

My Head is SPINNING

I've been so incredibly busy these past couple of weeks... and for the first time in a REALLY long time... I feel like myself again.

I've always been the girl that wasn't happy unless I had a million and one plates in the air... juggling them all with grace and ease... and if one went crashing down, I picked it up and put it back together again.

I've been watching Battlestar Galactic upon the recommendation of my friend Megan over at meganligeti.com: A Pretty Girl in a Nerdy World (check it out--it's a great insight into the "nerd" culture.)  I find there's lots of wisdom in the nerd world that I love so much.  I'm constantly quoting Lord of the Rings and the like... and Commander Adama of the Battlestar Galactic said something early on in the series that blew my mind:

"It's not enough just to live.  You have to have something to live FOR."
(He's so wise)

It's true.  I spent the past two years trying to "relax" and "let go" and "live like other people do" and not "stress out so much" and "just have a good time."  Well, guess what?  THAT DOESN'T WORK FOR ME!

I'm Type A.
I like to be in control.
I like to be busy.
I like to make things happen.
I can't "just have fun."  I have to have a passion project, a strong dream, something to work towards and for.

I spent so much time trying to find myself that I completely and totally lost myself.  But the good news is, I'm pretty sure that what once was lost has now been found.

My other blog, Delicate Princess Tummy, has become my passion project.  I work on it ALL the time.  I truly feel that this is what I'm supposed to be working on right now.  I don't know where it's going to lead me, but I know I love working on it, and feel like I'm on the right path again.  I get to combine my love of food, time in front of the camera, and engaging with other foodies.

So now that I have the website all redesigned, my next steps are to figure out Twitter and start networking with other food bloggers... and get people who aren't my friends onto the Delicate Princess Tummy train.

And that's terrifying.

Chug Chug Chuggin' Along

Mondays are probably my favorite day of the week.  I wake up at 6am and go to yoga, get home by about 8:20, take a shower, eat breakfast, and get to work on my dreams all day long.  It's the one day I hardly ever work at my bar, and one of my most productive days of the week.

Of course, next Monday I start teaching improv out in Long Island, but that's only for 4 Mondays, and I know I will thoroughly enjoy that as well.

However, this morning I was awoken at 5:30 am by my own brain.  I went to sleep at midnight, so it's not like my body was waking itself naturally because it was well rested.  A little internal alarm went off, and I was instantly bombarded with so many thoughts, key among them being: "You don't have time to sleep!  Get up get up get up and do things!!!"  This has been happening a lot recently, where I am instantly awoken from a deep sleep by my brain, and typically it's followed by a rather intense panic attack.  Then the panic attack increases because I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR A PANIC ATTACK I NEED TO SLEEP BECAUSE I AM SO TIRED.

It's exhausting.  But also, I'm glad to be panicking.  I'm glad to be feeling motivated and like I'm working towards things.  I feel like the little engine that could.  Eventually I gotta get to something.  So when I saw this  picture on facebook this morning, it made me smile.  I wanna be that guy on the top... not the giver upper on the bottom!

Forgotten Drawer

The human brain is an amazing thing.  I can't even begin to understand how it works... but I sure thank baby Jesus that it DOES work.

The other day I was getting ready for yoga, which typically consists of putting on one of my yoga specific sports bras and tiny shorts (that I would NEVER wear outside of the studio) with some terrible cover up.  My usual cover ups include every article of clothing I have ever cut, bleached, or stained in some accidental/embarrassing way.  However, I was working my first shift at the studio and decided that I wanted to wear a cover up that was a little bit nicer (ie doesn't look like I survived a dragon attack wearing it).  I knew that somewhere I had some shorts and tank tops from my running days, but after looking EVERYWHERE to no avail, I begrudgingly resorted to a onesie that I tend to wear as REAL clothes, not yoga cover up clothes.

A couple days later, as I was digging through my closet looking for something or other (I have no idea how I lose so many things in this tiny studio apartment), I happened to notice my little canvas bureau doohickey (technical term) that has 3 separate drawers.  THREE drawers.  Not TWO.  For some reason... I had completely forgotten the middle drawer existed.  The top drawer contains my socks, underwear, and sparkly fairy wand (where do you keep yours?) while the bottom drawer holds my pajamas that I never wear but keep in case of emergency.  However... I had no idea what was within the mystery middle drawer.  I also had no idea when it was that I last opened said drawer, and furthermore, I had no idea when or why it slipped out of my realm of awareness.  I opened the drawer with great anticipation, and lo and behold, it was stuffed to the brim with t-shirts, shorts, tank tops, and sports bras!!!


"Score!" I said to myself.  I'm thrilled to have some less homeless looking clothes to wear to yoga... and, yes, I've already cut down 2 of the shirts I found in the drawer (maybe I need to re-access my scissor usage) to make them more to my liking... and yes, I'm a bit perplexed.

How has my mind LITERALLY ignored this drawer?  My brain has straight out ignored its existence.  If my brain can so easily ignore a drawer that it sees (or, well... my eyes see and then transmit that image info to my brain and therefore to my consciousness) EVERY day, what else is it so easily ignoring?  What else in my life do I see every day, but fail to recognize?

22 days ago I began a journey to really and truly re-haul my life.  This has included (but is not limited to) cutting alcohol out of my life, limiting my social encounters during the week, and returning to my journaling ways (3 small examples.)  Lots of good things have come out of this thus far.  Is this drawer just one more example?  Or... is it... just a drawer? Perhaps it's merely something I'm admitting to the interwebs that adds more fuel to what my mother has said since the day I started losing things: "You're just looking with your nose."

I don't know... I don't think so.  I like to think I'm unlocking little parts of my brain that I personally locked myself, for some unbeknownst reason.   It is, however, kinda weirding me out... What if there's a LITERAL elephant in the room, and I'm just not seeing it?

Pounding the Pavement vs. Couch Potato

My mom arrived to a beautiful Spring New York day last Wednesday, and boy, did we have grand plans for her stay!  We were going to see a show, have a Brooklyn day (full of wonderful Brooklyn things), cook a big meal for my food blog together, and other various adventures.  But... when it came down to it... we just needed ourselves a relaxing little vacation... and so that's what we did.

This blog would be much more interesting if I had taken more pictures... but, alas... hindsight.

Wednesday she pulled up in her little yellow cab and met a friend of mine and I at Starbucks, and then we hopped over to a little restaurant called Community that we love for some delicious eats.  It's across the street from this famous restaurant that you may recognize from a little show called Seinfeld:

I told her that was her tourist moment of the day.  

We headed back up towards my apartment, grabbed some groceries from the fruit man, and had a lazy night in of movie watching.  It was divine.  Especially the gluten free brownies we made and then enjoyed for the duration of her stay.  Nom Nom.

Thursday morning dawned, and we did some boring errand running... just things I needed to get done.  This also included shoe shopping... which SHOULD be a delightful experience... but neither I nor my mom much enjoy shopping... so it was an in and out kind of affair.  That evening we had DELICIOUS Ethiopian food at a restaurant called Awash on the Upper West Side.  Ohmygosh.  Ethiopian is so good.  It's very similar to Indian food in the same way that Brazilian and Mexican are very similar. I find Ethiopian to be more complex in flavor (like I find Brazilian to be more complex than Mexican).  Not to mention the bread that is served with the Ethiopian fare is GLUTEN FREE.  I could eat it. I was in heaven.  I would put a picture here... but I didn't take one.  Mostly because the second the food was placed before us, we devoured it like wild beasts.   We then headed down to Greenwich Village to see my friend perform in an evening of scenes from Shakespeare's histories.  She was brilliant, as per usual.

Friday was the ultimate in lazy days.  We went out to the Cloisters which is a beautiful museum branch of the Met.  Located up at the very top of Manhattan in an area known as Inwood, the Cloisters are quiet, secluded, and incredibly peaceful.

The museum was built to look like a Medieval Cloister to house a large collection of religious artifacts dating from the Medieval times--you know, all that time in history when dragons and Jesus and unicorns were running rampant in France and England and other parts of Europe.  It's a most amazing building--many of the structural elements are artifacts, themselves.  Doors, windows, fireplaces, and stones from Medieval European ruins were transported here and incorporated into the design.  And the collection of artifacts is astounding.  Unfortunately, I have the attention span of a cocker spaniel when in a museum, and eventually museum fatigue set it, and at that point I was happy to just wander the halls and drool over the decadence of it all.  And the best part was the Cloistered gardens and cafe.  We sat and had coffee and wonderful conversation in the garden cafe for a good hour, and then headed back down to my apartment.

We ordered Thai take out and I introduced my momma to Papaya salad and Massaman Curry--Two of my favorite things, and we then proceeded to watch Peggy Sue Got Married, Mystic Pizza, and Muriel's Wedding--none of which had I ever seen before.  So I feel more like a functioning member of society for having seen them.

Saturday I had my improv class in the early afternoon, and afterwards we explored Central Park a bit and sat under cover by what used to be Tavern on the Green and people watched as a Spring shower tickled the pavement around us.  We had plans to meet up with a college professor of mine who then transitioned to my voice teacher for the first year I was here in New York.  It was a new food adventure for my mom as it was one of those Japanese restaurants where everything is $3, and you just pick and choose different foods.  It makes me think of those Greek diners where the menus are just pages and pages long, but it's all Japanese food!  It was yummy, and good to catch up with my old teacher. 

Sunday morning was a most exciting day--it was my grad show from the second level of improv training at the Upright Citizens Brigade.  We met up with a few friends before hand for brunch at one of our favorite places--Cafe Orlin.  It is a MUST on each of my momma's visits to New York.  When I first lived in New York back in my interior design days, I lived right down the street from it and we would go for their pumpkin pancakes (which are to DIE for).  Now, it's a bit more of a trek down from Harlem... and I can't eat the pumpkin pancakes anymore.... but it's not much of a sacrifice as their Huevos Rancheros are delectable, and paired with their granola and fruit... my momma and I split a FEAST.  My grad show went well--no one died, which is a definite perk, and I feel confident that I've graduated to the next level.  I treated my mom to Stogo (which was featured in my first episode of my new travel show over at my food blog), and then we winded down toward home.  Of course, we stopped on the way home to pick up Bridesmaids, because my mom didn't know who Kristen Wiig was.  I found this to be unacceptable.

Which brings us to Monday.  How could it already be Monday?? The trip has gone so quickly!!  Monday we headed out for the Circle Line Boat Tour--something people have been telling me about since I moved to the city, but I had yet to do.  It's $38 for a 3 hour boat cruise around the entire island of Manhattan and well worth every penny.  Bring your own drinks and snacks, because the on-board cafe is definitely overpriced.  The day started out BEAUTIFULLY.  Bright sun and blue skies--not a cloud on the horizon.  You can see it here in this picture of the Intrepid with the space shuttle Enterprise on board:

Perfection!  

Of course... take a look at this next picture, and note the sky's change in mood:

Construction at Ground Zero with the new Freedom Tower
on the left. 1,776 feet tall!  Tallest building in the country.

Doesn't even look like the same day, does it?  Crazy! Crazy I tell you!  This was a mere 30 minutes later.  Oh well.  It was still a delightful tour.  Our guide was this adorable old man with a wealth of knowledge and a sharp wit matched with a dose of self deprecation.  My favorite kind of humor.  The boat takes you the closest I've ever been to the Statue of Liberty, which was awesome.  Not gonna lie.  I got a little misty eyed lookin' at her.  She's real purdy.

We also got great views of the entire East side--which is truly beautiful when seen from the East River.  The entire island looks incredibly beautiful from a boat.  It's astounding.

The Chrysler Building is still my favorite.

Unfortunately the tide was higher than normal, and so the boat couldn't make the entire circumference of the island.  Apparently, up by East Harlem and around the northern tip of the island, the bridges are much smaller and lower, and when tides are normal the large Circle Line boats have no trouble navigating them... but when tides are high... well... it's a no go.  So we did a U shaped tour of Manhattan--but I'll take it!  It got super windy and cooled off a good 10 degrees, so we were shivery by the time the boat docked.  We then headed to Little Italy to visit Rubirosa, another one of my mom's favorite food stops when she comes to visit.  I have a friend who works there, and so we always get special, wonderful service--this time we got treated to a flourless chocolate cake for dessert... which was just so melt in your mouth amazing that we were fighting over that last bite!  Our meal was amazing as well--brussel sprouts to start followed by an arugula gluten free pizza and gluten free spaghetti and marinara... Oh my!  I will be blogging about it on my food blog, for SURE.

Next thing I knew, it was Tuesday and time to send my mom back below the Mason Dixon Line.  I sure am a lucky girl to have such a wonderful mom who has grown into a wonderful friend, as well.  I feel like we had the perfect combination of pounding that New York City pavement and resting our haunches on my semi-comfortable Ikea couch.  One day I'll have a lush, plush, luxurious living room... but until then, mine does the trick.  And, finally, she left me with some adorable yellow flowers to brighten my apartment:

Onward and forward!  

Turtle Shell

Hey... remember that time I disappeared off the face of the BlogEarth for approximately two weeks?  Yeah... sorry about that.

I cannot tell a lie.  I hit a rough patch.  I had to get out my zamboni and smooth things over a bit.  The first thing that happens when I hit a rough patch is I avoid this blog like the dickens.  Because... well.  I don't know why.  I just like to pretend everything is dandy!  Which, overall... it is.  Like I've said before, I'm a lucky girl.  I'm not starving, I have a roof over my head, my arms AND my legs, and a pretty super group of humans that I get to call my family and friends.  So when I get a case of the mean reds, I tuck away like a turtle in my shell.

A new friend of mine said something really cool to me this past weekend.  When certain things happen in your life, good or bad, we often say it's a coincidence.  Or maybe we say "boy, how strange that happened!"  But she said:

"Is it odd?  Or is it God?"

And I don't care who YOUR God is.  Well, not that I don't CARE.  I just mean that it isn't important to me what your higher power is.  I guess I hope that you have one, because it helps me, but if you don't, feel free to skip ahead or read with bemusement.  But... my mom planned a trip to New York about a month ago.  Not for any particular reason.  Just to come visit.  And boy.  It was a total "is it odd or is it God" example.

I needed my momma.  And there she was with a trip she planned long before either of us knew I needed her.

We had a wonderful time.  She said her friends always ask her when she gets home what kind of exciting things she did while she was in New York... but she's come to visit me so often that New York takes a back seat.  We do a few touristy things, but mostly we just enjoy each others company.

This trip, we went to see my friend's scenes from Shakespeare's history play, went to the Cloisters, did the Circle Line boat tour, she got to see my improv grad show, and ate a WHOLE LOT OF DELICIOUS FOODS. (Tomorrow I'll write a  more detailed account of our adventures as I know you're dying to know everything!)

The worst thing is packing my momma away in that yellow cab and walking back into my empty apartment once her trip reaches its end.  I mean, I do love living alone.  It's my apartment.  And I love it.  But when my momma's been here for the past 7 days, and every time I walk in the lights are on and Pandora's playing Carole King and she's sittin' on the couch reading a book... it's real hard to walk in and be alone again.

But I have a lot of exciting things to work on.  And I'm feeling much better now.  The mean reds have dissipated significantly, and there are grand things on the horizon.  But I'll save those for another blog.

My one regret is that I didn't take more pictures...

Momma and I at the Cloisters on a beautiful day!

30 Before 30

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you do NOT put any grand expectations on any age.  Age is just a number.  I put a whole lot of pressure on the age 26.  That was my age.  I knew, at the age of 10, that by 26 I would SURELY have landed a husband, my dream job, and the perfect house with a perfect picket fence.  26 came and went with no husband, no dream job, and no perfect house.  Of course, I had little to no desire for a husband or a perfect house with a perfect picket fence.  And the dream job thing... well... I'm working on it.

SO--when I saw this post by a friend on Facebook entitled:  Turning 30:  30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know, I got real mad.  My inner monologue:

"Oh really?  EVERY woman should have these things and know these things??? What a broad generalization!  As if there isn't already ENOUGH pressure on me from society to stop being so bad at this "life" thing!  You can take your list and SHOVE IT."


And then I clicked on the link.  Of COURSE I clicked on the link.  I need SOMEONE to tell me what I'm supposed to be doing, so why not this list that the Huffington Post has deemed "WHAT EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW."

And then the list blew me away.  The list made me feel hopeful.  The list made me excited for 30.

Not that I'm putting pressure on 30.  (Ok... I'm probably putting pressure on 30.) But that I feel like I'm on track to be ok with myself when I do hit 30.  30 is a mere 2 years and 7 months away.  Buh.  I'm just going to disregard my disbelief in that and accept it, and move on to my point. (I'll get there eventually, I swear.)

I don't know if this is just today--if it's just because I'm full of hope because I mailed out my headshot, resume, and postcards for my upcoming showcase to a crap ton of agents, so the hope is lingering instead of being dashed into the ground by crushing silence on their part (which is far worse than straight out rejection)--but I hope not.  I regained a shred of hope the other day when I met with my accountability partner.  We hadn't met since March, and both of us were feeling really down in the dumps.  But after some espresso and goal setting for the week, we both left with a sunnier disposition.  I was able to face my survival job with a smile again, because I felt like I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.   I hit some twists and turns in the tunnel this past month that blocked my view, but I feel like... maybe it's there again?

And then... I have my yoga dreams to keep me going, as well.  If I do decide I can't pursue this acting thing anymore (mamma's not givin' up yet!), I know that I can open a yoga studio.  I feel less lost.

So the list.  Things that stood out on the list for me:

6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.

7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age -- and some money set aside to help fund it.

I used to be such a goody two shoes. And that was good. But I'm glad I spent some time being a little more of a rebel... living life for the fun of it. Maybe it delayed by career a bit... but maybe not. And I think I'm a more well rounded person because of it. And I have memories to relish when I'm an old lady in her rocking chair. (Or maybe I'll be a rebel without a cause when I'm an old lady... who knows?!)  And now that I've started an IRA and am saving for when I am that crazy old lady... it makes me feel more secure in my life now.

14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.

I have my yoga. I have my nutrition/eating plan. I use lotions and shiz. I fully expect my 30's to be a beautiful time.

15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.

This phrasing made me feel so good: "A solid start..." It's ok that I'm still a little lost at sea. I truly feel like I'm on the brink of a break through. By the time I'm 30--I WILL be in charge.

7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.

Ok. I'm well practiced at this one. I've lived alone 3 out of the 7 years of my 20's thus far.  I remember my first apartment I got with my best friend.  We decided to paint the living room pink--it actually was inspired by the Victoria's Secret shopping bag (or what it used to look like):  pink on pink.  Light pink with darker pink stripes.  Our logic was this was the only living room we were going to have as single ladies.  HA.  5 living rooms later... I'm still glad we had those pink stripes.


13. Who you can trust, who you can’t, and why you shouldn’t take it personally.


This is a lesson I've struggled with my whole life. Gotta learn not to take it personally.

15. Why they say life begins at 30 

I can't wait.

And the most important thing I need to take care of before February 10, 2015:

4. A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.

Cause right now... those things are just in a sad state.

There's Such A Lot of World to See

The Girl in the Yellow Hat

Recap

Well, I've officially been back to life for almost 2 weeks, and it's been one crazy ride!  I've also been hiding from this blog and anything that's relevant to responsibility in my life... woops!

I thrust myself back into my survival job immediately.  After arriving at my apartment long enough to drop off my suitcases and freshen up, I headed straight to work.  I had a serious break down the last night I was in LA at the dinner table (I wonder how many breakdowns have occurred at that table over the years?) regarding my survival job.  I just... want some normalcy in my life.  That isn't a bar.  With 100s of drunk people.  And working until 4 in the morning and trying to lead a semi-normal day life as well.  I know that I'm blessed and many others work the exact same schedule, or worse.  But... I also know that it's slowly driving me bonkers, and I really don't have very far to go.

Then came the beating of the dead horse:  I got the news about my dear friend's taxi incident, my sister moved to Germany, and my wallet was stolen.  For one second I remember thinking, "Seriously, Universe?  Are you SERIOUS right now?  I feel like you're telling me to pack my bags and turn tail back home."  But then the Universe was like, "Now hang on a second, lil missy, I'm not done yet.  And let's be honest, you're being kinda dramatic.  You're gonna go work this really cool stand-in job on Survivor, you're going to get a work study offer at your yoga studio, and you're going to realize you have a lot of cool stuff in your life.  Also, this guy named Angel called to tell you he has your wallet. So snap out of it, already."

The Universe can get kinda sassy with me.  But usually I need it.

So, last weekend I worked as a stand-in on the Survivor: One World Reunion show.  Basically, the hour long live reunion show aired Sunday night, but NOTHING about reality or live tv is real or live... or at least, very little.  So we (the stand-ins) spent Friday and Saturday running the hour long reunion show over and over and over to get all the camera angles right, the set right, the lighting right, EVERYTHING RIGHT.  Sunday the actual cast came in and I met Jeff Probst.  We ran the show once with him interviewing us (pretending to be the actual survivors), and the actual cast watching so they could see what to do.  It was a super cool experience for me, as it was my first time on a tv set and my first Union job.  So we had super special badges that gave us access to the street that was closed off to everyone else, and there was a craft service table with free snacks and drinks.  To me... that's exciting.  And I know soon it will be something I take for granted... so... treasure the memory I suppose!  The best part was we were shooting on the David Letterman stage which is at the Ed Sullivan Theatre--so I was on the same stage that EVERYONE WHO'S ANYONE has been on.  And I can't wait for the next time I'm on it.  When David Letterman is interviewing me.  It's gotta happen, y'all.

With my "special access" pass

The next great thing was the owner of my yoga studio approached me about doing work study.  Work study means I work at the studio one day a week answering phones, doing laundry, cleaning mirrors, blah blah blah... and I get to study for free!  So that saves me $125 a month!

AND my Momma and I are plannin' a trip to Paris and Germany, to see my sister who will be at that point VERY PREGGERS.

So, nose back to the grindstone... or... whatever that saying is.  Time to get crackin'!

Which is so hard when the summer weather is calling my name.........

Let's Get Rich and Give Everybody Nice Presents and Teach Them How to Dance

I'll just let my rambling self speak for myself this once.

For More Ingrid Michaelson:  You and I

It's a Dangerous Business Going Out Your Door

"It's a dangerous business going out your door.  You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~J.R.R. Tolkein

I just got back from a wonderful trip to Louisiana.  You probably remember that I had some hesitations about going on this trip, and I was pretty accurate on all counts.  I didn't write as much as I wanted, I played my ukulele only one day, and I had a lot of anxiety surrounding my non-yogaing self.  But all that aside, it was a wonderful vacation, and I'm really glad that I let myself take time off from all of my work.  I spent some serious much needed time with loved ones, and I don't regret one second of it.

However, it made returning to New York and life here that much harder.  I have mentioned before that I absolutely love New Orleans and can totally see myself living there.  While sipping a malbec on the patio of Bacchanal Wine, surrounded by twinkling Christmas lights, a light Louisiana dewy humidity, and the sounds of live jazz music, I felt that I never wanted to leave.  I could see myself getting a little studio downtown, opening my own Bikram yoga studio that had a connected gluten/vegan cafe/juice shop... and partaking in the acting world in Louisiana.  I kept describing it as feeling as though I'm in love with two men.  I love them both so much and can see my life working out with either one, and I can also see it being painfully unsuccessful with both of them.  I have no grand illusions of leaving New York right now.  I have a lease through next February, and I have too much hard foundation work invested in my acting career to give up.  But it has made returning to the harshness of New York even harder than I imagined.

Not only this, but I got some truly awful news about a very dear friend when I got home from work last night (this morning).  She and I were super close last year.  We were both struggling with depression and anxiety, and we were both making poor life decisions.  We started going to church, joined a book club together, and overall just spent a lot of time helping each other cope.  Our lives began to heal, and our co-dependent relationship was no longer necessary.  We still saw each other every once in a while, but it wasn't the same.  When the new year began and she fell off my radar, I wasn't too concerned.  I'm aware that this happens in friendships, and I figured that she maybe felt she had outgrown me, and I didn't want to bother her.  So I just poked my head into her life every now and again, and tried not to be hurt when I didn't hear back from her.  But basically, I'm ashamed to say that I wrote her off.

I kept up with her via facebook and was shocked when I realized she had moved home to Indiana.  I didn't ask why but assumed that she had grown tired of New York.  (A feeling I can certainly sympathize with.)  I worried about her as I followed her facebook statuses, but I realized she was home with her family, so things couldn't be that bad.  Then last night she posted a blog she had begun, and I, of course, instantly clicked on it.  I was eager for an explanation as to why she had disappeared.

I was unprepared for what I read on her blog.   My beautiful, strong, funny, deeply spiritual, loving friend was raped in a New York City cab by, not one but, three men.  I know I'm writing a lot, but please take the time to read her story on her blog.  I can't possibly relate to you what happened as she can.

I know far too many women who have been touched by rape.  I truly feel it's important to share these experiences, because it makes us all more aware of how fragile this life can be.

Today was rough.  I was having trouble adjusting to being back in this huge, concrete jungle.  This city can be both the most wonderful, sunny, golden days of brunch and sangria wonderful loving friends... and also the harshest, grittiest, grey cold wind whipping in your eyes as strangers judge you and you feel tiny... place. So since I was already having my doubts about my life here and how much I'd rather be living in New Orleans, Louisiana where I could pop over to my parents for dinner once a week and be near some of my oldest friends and living a safe, secure life... well... her story sent me over the edge.

I haven't struggled with anxiety in quite some time.  But today it felt as if a huge weight was squashing my chest and making it difficult to breathe.  I was reminded of a Kyrgyz demon a friend once told me about.  He's this evil little guy who sits on your chest while you're sleeping and makes you have bad dreams and feel like you can't breathe.  But I wasn't sleeping and it unfortunately wasn't a dream.  I couldn't get the image of my beautiful friend being raped out of my head.

It's a dangerous world.  That same thing could happen to any one any where. New Orleans. Chicago.  St. Louis.  Timbuktu.  But it didn't happen in any of those places.  It happened to my friend.  Here.  In NYC.  20 blocks from where I live.  And it changed her life forever.

I realize I can't live in fear.  Bad things happen.  Bad people are out there.  But I can do something about it.  I'm going to try to get some of my girl friends together to take a self defense class (there is NOTHING she could have done to protect herself in her situation, unfortunately.  But I'd like to be as prepared as I can).  I'm going to take note of the driver's names that are posted in EVERY cab I get in.  I'm only going to pay for cabs with my credit card.  And I'm going to pray.  A lot.  For my friend.  For every woman out there in a dangerous situation.  For every man out there in a dangerous situation.  And I'm just going to try to spread the awareness.  Starting here.  Because I love you, whoever you are reading this.

"In the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow.  Even darkness must pass.  A new day will come.  And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer...  there's some good in the world, and it's worth fighting for." J.R.R. Tolkein

She and I four years ago in a production of
"Les Mis" at the Barn Theatre in Michigan.
Love her.

Namaste Y'all

I love Louisiana.  I do.  It's just filled with the nicest people, and it's so warm and beautiful and HAPPY!

I got in yesterday evening and the first thing I did, after my friend Brittany picked me up from the airport, was stop for a drive through daiquiri.  It's a novelty that you can't find outside of Louisiana.  Even just finding a daiquiri is hard in New York... so, it's always one of my favorite parts of getting to the city.  (I never really loved daiquiris until I could no longer have them... I guess it's a sort of "the grass is always greener" thing). Daiquiris in hand, we then stopped by her house to settle in and hang with her boyfriend (who is also lead guitar in their BAND which I will tell you more about in a bit.)  Since all I'd eaten since 9 am was some popcorn chips on the plane, my tummy started to grumble, so we headed out to the Bywater for some delicious wine and food at this adorable outdoor eatery called Bacchanal.  The menu changes weekly according to whoever their guest chef is, you purchase a bottle of wine from their huge wine shop, and then you eat outside where a live jazz band serenades you.  It was like being inside a southern fairy tale as the patio was strung with colored Christmas lights, and the tables were lit with huge anti-mosquito torches (which did very little to keep the June bugs away).

This morning, we woke up early and headed to Brittany's first ever Bikram yoga class!  It was my first time to do yoga outside of my studio, and Brittany was so brave and faced her first class with strength and determination that was truly admirable.  I was so proud of her!  She did most every posture and loved the class.  The teacher was great--she sounded just like Annie Pots--and I LOVED the change in atmosphere.  It was like a whole different class.  Now I can't wait to travel all of the world doing Bikram in different studios.  New goal!

We grabbed Greek food for lunch afterwards, which was delightful, and it was within walking distance of Britt's house.  Today has been a true re-introduction to Louisiana weather.  When we headed out for yoga, it was cloudy and threatening rain--during yoga it must have rained, and then afterwards, the sun was shining brightly.  By the time we headed out for Greek, it was raining again--a light, beautiful Spring rain--and then while we ate it was pouring and I heard some great Louisiana thunder; one of my very favorite things (Britt said it may have been a train, but I decided it was most definitely thunder.)

Humidity.  Oh, Louisiana, the only place where my stick straight hair gets all wavy and in disarray.  Where you can feel the air going in your nose and down your windpipe.  If you're thirsty, just open wide and swallow some air!  I'm so happy to be back.  Sometimes it's tempting enough to stay permanently...

But now, let me bring you this week's ukulele video--my favorite thus far, as I get to share it with my Britt Britt (here's the link to her band's facebook page I mention in the video: https://www.facebook.com/jigcity)

CONGRATULATIONS, KATHRYN!!!  Can't wait for the wedding on Saturday and all of the festivities that will surround this special day.

I Need a Mary Poppins Suitcase

Today's been my major prep day for my trip tomorrow!  The past few days have been a whirlwind of work, shopping, work, and Skyrim (I have become obsessed with this video game... I'm going to have to devote an entire blog to it at some point).

Yesterday, before I headed into work, I decided to do some shopping on the Upper East Side.  I had some things to buy pre-trip, and wanted to treat myself to some new Spring clothes since I haven't bought myself any new clothes in a real long time.  I tried shopping on Saturday, but every store I went into was just AWFUL.  I hate most of the clothes this season.  It's like... the worst of the 70's and 80's vomited all over the designers and they were like, "OH PERFECT YES!"  I walked into Forever 21 and H&M, and walked right back out.  I think I'm done with those stores.  I just can't find anything there.  Maybe because I'm not 21... it's an age long gone.  THEN my old standby, Anthropologie, was CLOSED.  I mean, not ALL the Anthropologies are closed, but the one on 5th Ave that was my favorite is all boarded up.  I couldn't believe it!

So anyway, Saturday was a big ole flop (though I did find one really cute dress for the rehearsal dinner), so I had to squeeze some shopping time in yesterday.  Y'all--I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman on the Upper East Side.  Not like anyone was judging me, and I felt fine in all the stores--but I felt like I was pretending.  I ended up in Free People and spent my entire Spring budget on 3 items.  Woops.  But they were 3 items I really loved, and that's better than 10 items from Forever 21 that I will hate in a year.

So anyway, I was walking around the Upper East Side with all kinds of shopping bags that made me feel like a rich 20-something with tons of money to blow.  I had bags from Zara, Free People, Giggle, Pottery Barn, Bebe, and the Organic Cafe (I'm obsessed with this place I discovered--I will definitely be blogging about it on my other blog at some point).  Not that any of those places are super fancy... they're just stores that I normally don't shop at... because I'm poor.  So that was really fun.  To feel rich.  Too bad it's not real... (note:  to be clear, I was gift shopping--not all of that stuff was for me... I don't want you to be rollin' your eyes and sayin' "if you're poor, don't be spendin' all that money, girl".  ;) I was playin Santa.  In April.)

So, I got home and pulled out my big suitcase.  It was all the way at the back of underneath my bed, and the way my apartment is laid out, the only way to get to it was to literally crawl under my bed.  It was awesome!  All my yoga is certainly paying off as I flattened myself and crawled belly style to the furthest, dusty depths of my under bed storage.  That suitcase has been  under my bed since I last used it a year ago for my family trip to Disney World.  All the other trips I've been on, I've had to pack in my carry-on as the airlines charge you to check one bag.  But not Jet Blue!  I get to check my bag for free.  But you know what?  It doesn't really help to have the bigger suitcase.  It's that whole "eyes bigger than your stomach" concept.  Or something like it...

I swear.  I packed enough clothes to last me 2 weeks instead of 8 days.  But I don't really know what I'll be doing on a day to day basis, and I surely don't know what I'll be in the mood to wear.  And I guarantee that when I get there, I'll wish I had something I didn't pack.  I know it.  Already, I know.

But then again, all I want to wear is my new outfit from Free People.  But I don't think it would be appropriate for all occasions... and it might start to smell.

Just another reason why Mary Poppins was practically perfect in every way.  She could over pack to her heart's content.

Eye Twitches

Exactly one week from yesterday, I will be in LOUISIANA--for EIGHT DAYS!! I'm so pumped.  I am going down for my very bestest-since-we-were-12-years-old friend's wedding, and, since it's in Louisiana, the extra perk is I get to see a lot of other friends that go way back to my younger years!  I'll get to see her family, whom I LOVE, our mutual besty who's planning on leaving Louisiana once he has himself a law job (why did ALL my friends go to law school?),  our other mutual besty from our younger years who now has a beautiful family (so I get to meet her new little bundle of baby goodness).  Not to mention I'm staying with one of my first ever THEATRE BESTIES from our community theatre days who moved away to Austin but is now BACK in LA--so I get to see her... and then my other BESTY who's getting married in August... oh my goodness... it's just too much for little old me to handle!!

Of course, with every vacation comes the pre-vacation stress.  Yesterday I made a list of all the things I need to get done, and, as if on cue, my right eye began twitching.  My eye twitches for one of two reasons:  I'm super tired OR I'm stressed.  I just have a... lot to get done in these next few days.  But it's worth it for an 8 day vacation!  To the land of WARM!  Goodbye fickle New York "Spring."  When I come back, though, it had better be WARM FOR REAL.  No more relapses into the 40's.  No bueno.

Strangely though, I'm having another kind of anxiety.  It used to be I would count down the days to a vacation. Literally, starting in the hundreds, I would start counting down.  I couldn't WAIT to get out of this city.  But... there's been a flip.  Now, don't get me wrong, like I said, I'm super pumped for this trip... but I'm also experiencing a LOT of anxiety.  I'm nervous about my food situation while in the South.  I'm nervous about being away from New York and missing out on opportunities and being away from my work (not bar work, my career furthering work).  And I'm SUPER nervous about being away from Bikram Yoga.  I recognize that it might be an issue, but I'm super obsessed with my yoga practice.  Not for vain reasons (though of COURSE it is my workout and I do enjoy that benefit immensely), but also for my life.  Yoga keeps my mood, allergies, and bathroom visits in check... I'm so nervous that without it I'm going to get all stressed out, develop a sinus infection, and not be able to use the bathroom (TMI?).   I found a studio in New Orleans that I'm going to try to go to at least once while I'm there... but maybe I can look at this as a challenge for myself.  Yes, yoga is good for me.  But I tend to be an obsessive person, and maybe I should look at this as a chance to 100% be on vacation.  Minimal work (though I'm bringing my ukulele and plan on writing).  Minimal yoga (I really want to go at least once).  And maximum enjoyment.  Because your beautiful best friend only gets married once!  And I am so blessed that I have the resources and time off to go.  Speaking of blessed, can I get a "Hallelujah"?

That was a terrible segue... you'll see why:

Tune Up

Wow!  It's been since NOVEMBER that I did a balance check-in.  A LOT has changed since then.  I know pride cometh before the fall, but I'm pretty darn proud of where I find myself these days.  Let's check in with my list!

1)  Create a schedule for myself.

• BAM.  Did it.  I know what each day is going to bring for me, and yes, it may vary according to whatever things life springs upon me, but I know what days are my grocery days, when I go to yoga, when I'm going to write... etc etc.  I use google calendar to plan out my upcoming week each Sunday, and that definitely keeps me on task.  I find myself with so much to do these days that I can't even enjoy watching Hulu or television without working on a project at the same time, unless I happen to be taking an eating break. 

2)  30 Day Yoga Challenge.

• I've decided I'm going to attempt one of these every 6 months.  Not only does it help my pocket book since I get a free month after completing the challenge, but it reminds me that going 5 or 6 times a week is way easier than going EVERY SINGLE DAY.  I completed my most recent challenge on March 15, and since have gone to yoga at LEAST 5 times a week, sometimes 7. I've never felt the freedom in my body that I feel now, and I honestly feel like it's my tool that I can manipulate in whatever way I choose.  Completely necessary for an actor.

3)  Project Get an Agent

• Well... I have yet to land representation, but it hasn't disheartened me... much.  The path that I've taken to gain representation has opened doors I hadn't even considered before.  As a result, I am now writing my own one woman show, working on developing 2 web series, and booking relevant, paying, acting work.  I just think I haven't met the right agent yet... and I do really want it to be a good fit.

4)  Resume classes at UCB

• I didn't even remember that this was something I had actually set as a goal for myself, but my subconscious must have remembered, because last week I started Improv 201 at UCB.  So far I super duper love it and am so excited to continue on with the classes all the way through to 401 AND BEYOND!!!!!

5)  Begin Production on my Web Series

• This has been stewing for a while... but it is STILL happening, people.  In fact, I'm meeting with my partner in crime on Monday to continue working on it.  It's morphed and taken new shapes... but we have a website!  With absolutely nothing on it yet... but you can take a look at what we're forming at  http://www.wix.com/brittanylynnkriger/toonicegirls.  Yeah, there's literally nothing on it. We're working away, though, I promise!
• Also, I've started collaborating on another web series with someone else.  I had the idea, told him about it, and pretty much handed it over to him.  I have too much on my plate at the moment, and he was passionate about writing it.  So, we're working on it together loosely, as in if I have any more brilliant ideas, I tell him and he takes into into consideration--also, I'm going to have a part written in for me... but... so yeah!

6)  Travel somewhere cool

• Well, I had a trip planned to Maine for June, but then realized I have a show for when I planned it... so nix on that.  But, I'm heading to Louisiana in a couple weeks for a wedding, and then of course planning to visit my sister in GERMANY this Christmas, so I'm kinda saving up my funds for that.

So now, what are my plans moving forward?

Well, I want to have a concrete story arc for my one woman show by the end of May, get my other blog, www.delicateprincesstummy.com, looking more professional  (I have a date set with a photographer to get some photos to do a redesign), continue to pursue agents, but also just plain continue booking work, and OF COURSE, become an awesome ukulele player.  You hoped I'd forgotten, didn't you?! But I didn't!  Here's my weekly uke video!  

And, as promised, Nancy's epic white girl dancing video (around the 1:30 mark is my favorite):

Flavor of the Week

I think after my last post, a little sunshine is in order!  Last night when I got off work (or this morning, however you choose to look at it), I stopped by the little international market next door to my bar.  Most every Tuesday, on my walk to the crosstown bus, I stop for bananas--I always seem to run out of bananas on Tuesdays... and I eat a banana EVERY day, so I must replenish my stock. I had a very fruitful (pun intended) shift, and I've taken to buying fresh flowers for my apartment each week.  The only requirement is that they be yellow and under $10.  Not too hard to fulfill!  The first fresh flowers I bought were the tulips I blogged about a couple weeks ago, and then last week I bought some kind of tiny lilies that wilted rather quickly.  Since they had an early demise, and I had a prosperous shift at work, I decided to treat myself to the cheery sunflowers that greeted me upon my entry to the market.

The little man who speaks broken English as he works the market counter and I have formed what I like to think is a special relationship as a result of my Tuesday banana runs.  From what I can tell, most of the people he interacts with at that time of night are also on their way out of my bar--but they are barely coherent and quite unpleasant.  So, I think we have a little bond of post-midnight soberness.  He gave me the sunflowers for $6, instead of their marked price of $7, and I went on my way.

I don't know what it is about carrying flowers around the city, but I've noticed it makes me feel happier... and maybe more confident?  Like, maybe people think these flowers are from my dashingly handsome and perfect boyfriend.  Or maybe they think I'm bringing them to someone else as a surprise.  But, little do they know... my secret is that I bought them for ME!  I think that's the key... that's my little secret confidence weapon. They also make me feel prettier.  Everyone looks prettier when they're carrying flowers.

I noticed a few months ago that any time I see a messenger on the street with a bouquet of flowers, I secretly hope that the flowers are for me.  Now, why I would be delivered flowers by a messenger on Fifth avenue at two in the afternoon when I clearly live half way across Manhattan is irrelevant.  I see the flowers and still a small part of me hopes.  I took note of that, and then I tucked it away into the further recesses of my mind.

Then, I was writing a couple of weeks ago about what I want from a relationship.  What I want from a man. I compared the way I want to feel about him to be the way I feel about this certain chocolate dessert that a customer brings into my bar on select Wednesdays.  Hard and mature on the outside, but when you bite into it, you experience an amazing explosion of buttery, salty, chocolately decadence.  And that I want to feel about him the way I feel about my ukulele (I may have an unhealthy relationship with said ukulele).  He (the prospective significant other, not the ukulele) takes me out on dates and buys me wonderful gifts for special occasions.  And flowers just because.  It's kind of sad that I'm 27 years old and haven't had that yet.  And then I stopped myself.  Flowers just because?  Why can't I buy myself flowers just because?  Why not?  I deserve it.  I love myself, and I work hard.  I deserve some pretty flowers to make me smile and brighten my apartment.

So now, I buy myself flowers just because.

Survival Job

I try to keep this blog relatively free of complaining... but I feel that it's unrealistic to ignore the one glaring bane of my existence.

I am very, very lucky to have a job where I only have to work 3 days a week and make enough to live off of.  I have time to pursue my other dreams and actual career goals.  It is relatively low stress, and I never have to bring it home with me. This is something I repeat in my head over and over and over and over again.

However, my survival job is slowly but surely driving me NUTS.  I work as a cocktail waitress.  I'm willing to assume that the term "cocktail waitress" evokes this image in your head:

Swanky bar.  Fancy drinks.  Business men slipping you 50's for no reason.

The reality of my job:

(actual photo taken during one of my shifts)

I have to pick my way through a thick crowd of belligerent drunk people while carrying a tray full of drinks and pitchers of beer.  Drunk people are really exactly like mules.  They don't move, even with lots of prodding, and once they do it's slow and clumsy.  I can't even count the number of times a drunk person has knocked an entire tray of drinks all over me and then gotten mad at ME.  I had one guy call me a not very nice four letter word last night after I asked him to move out of the way by poking him with a pitcher of beer. (You also have to imagine that top 40 music is blaring so loudly you can barely hear yourself think.  Saying "excuse me" is about as effective as using fabric softener on steel wool.)  Then there are the countless tables that treat you like you are less than human, are offended when it takes you more than 5 minutes to get through the crowd to get them their drinks, and then tip you $4 on a $96 tab (that actually happened last night).  Some of the drunk people in the crowd retain a shred of their humanity as they down shots of tequila and pitchers of beer, but they are few and far between.

Of course, what makes my job worth it is the volume of humans that come through the door, and the UESers with lots of money who DO tip well.  I wouldn't still be doing it after over a year if the pros didn't outweigh the cons... but last night, at approximately 2 am, I hit a wall.  I couldn't imagine taking one more table.  Talking to one more drunk person.  Dealing with one more sour puss, gossip girl-esque, drama queen.  I forgot my mantra, and this was what I was repeating in my head:

"I have two college degrees.  Why am I doing this?!"

I got home from work at 5 am, after working until 5 am the night before and getting 5 hours of sleep in between.  I accidentally slept through my alarm today and woke up at 1 pm feeling like a lazy bum.  But... from 9 am Friday until 5 am this morning, I had only gotten 5 hours of sleep... so I suppose I earned that 8 hours of sleep. Right?  But I tell you, my survival job is killing me slowly.  

No one ever said survival jobs were fun, and I am counting my blessings... but... I just found myself Googling yoga teacher training.  I qualify.  I could do it.  I could become a Bikram instructor to survive... but it costs, I KID YOU NOT, $10,700 to do.  And then once you're certified, you don't get paid all that well.  So... it looks like I'm stuck being a bar wench for the time being.  But, according to my one year goals, by this time next year I'll only have to work 2 nights a week at my survival job, because I'll be raking in money in other ways.  And neither of those two nights will be a Friday or a Saturday--aka my own personal hell where drunk girls are doing coke off the toilet seats.

Because that happens.  

New Weekly Torture

So, in this quest for balance, one of the most important things I've discovered is that I have to figure out which things in life make me happy and then make sure I DO those things to stay happy. (I mean... watching Hulu for hours is entertaining... but it does very little to develop my life and perpetuate self satisfaction.) Obviously my ukulele has brought me great joy since I first purchased it a couple weeks ago.  It has yet to bring anyone else joy--I'm sure my neighbors are so sick of hearing "Rainbow Connection" and "Obladi-Oblada" that they want to punch me in the face by now... but I'm hoping eventually, and with a lot of practice, it will bring joy to others, as well.  I'm off to my first ukulele lesson now--up until this point I've learned everything from Youtube.  Which... is great.  But I feel like a real human will be able to give me some pointers and help me out in a way that the adorable old man on my computer screen can't.  I apologize in advance for this, but I've decided that once a week I'm going to post a video of me wailing away on my ukulele.  It will keep me accountable for learning new songs and practicing, and you will be so lucky as to watch me progress.  Hopefully.  Or you will watch the video below and decide you NEVER want to hear me play the ukulele again.  Your choice.  I won't be mad.  Except for you, Momma and Daddy--you have to watch.  You created and birthed me and made this happen.

Naked People Have Little or No Influence on Society

"Clothes make the man.  Naked people have little or no influence on society."  ~Mark Twain

Oh, Mark Twain. You were one sassy, clever, little mustached man.

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I'm going to wear on any given day.  Because I work in a bar, I have my bar "uniform":  Some black leggings that feel mostly like pajama pants (since my shortest shift is typically 8 hours--optimizing comfort is ideal.  Also, they make my butt look great... and well, that doesn't hurt tips), a tank top/shirt with MY BAR'S NAME written in large print across the chest, and ked's.  This is what I wear most of the time, or so it feels like.  Then, on other days, I have my yoga clothes and sweat pants and bang around clothes.  I don't know at what point it was that I became comfortable wearing bang around clothes around New York... I used to ALWAYS get dressed at least SEMI nicely for venturing out into the city...  I think I secretly feared Stacy or Clinton from TLC's "What Not to Wear" would see me and judge me... but now, unless I have something to do, I'm usually wearing something with a hole or a bleach stain somewhere on it.  However, on days when I get to wear REAL clothes... I agonize about it.

There are two things I tend to think about while in yoga (though don't tell my yoga teachers, because we're supposed to be clearing our minds and focusing on the postures.  Yeah.  I suck at that):  1) What I'm going to eat when I get home. 2) What I'm going to wear later that day.

I HATE picking out what I'm going to wear.  I usually stare at my closet, which is STUFFED with clothes I hardly wear, and decide that I'd just rather be naked.  Hence why I usually end up in something with bleach stains or holes--because THAT choice says "no,  I didn't plan this outfit, I just threw it on... so don't JUDGE ME."

Today I have the pleasure of spending time with one of my best friends and her little sister who recently moved to the city who I am now ALSO recruiting to be my friend.  And it's her birthday! Or... it was yesterday... but I had to work.  So I'm celebrating with her today.  We'll call her Skyrim.  Because she has introduced me to Skyrim.  Different story, though.  Anyway, the world is my oyster today.  I can wear any gosh darned thing that I want to celebrate the day of Skyrim's birth .  Casual?  Dressy?  Semi-Casual?  Bleach and holes?  Why yes, I can do any of those things.

But when I opened my closet, one dress stared me down.  It looked me in the face and said "Hey, hooker, you've only worn me once.  Remember that awful date you went on?  The one where that drunken, alcoholic, (that's redundant) 37 year old man said you were 'decent looking, going to lose your looks in 5 years, and a skinny fat girl'?  Remember that date?  Yeah.  Well, I was a really cute dress that now you can't stand because when you see me THAT'S ALL YOU THINK OF.  Ha!  I make you feel bad about yourself!  I'm an evil dress!  Muwahahahahahah."

I took a deep breath. ripped it off the hanger, and put it over my head.  I didn't feel any different... I didn't feel like a skinny fat girl... maybe a little decent looking... but certainly not terribly bad about myself.  So, I went and looked in the mirror.  And hey, the dress is a little big now!  SCREW YOU DRESS!  All my yoga and good eatin' are paying off!  (Disregard the entire box of Samoas I ate last night at work, and the entire platter of nachos, as well...)  And guess what?  I don't need to wear a bra with you!  THAT'S A WIN WIN!  Comfort and style?  Yes please.  I added my gray lace tights, favorite cow boy boots, and lesbian power blazer, and suddenly it feels like a new dress.

So, no, Mark.  I beg to differ.  The clothes don't make the man.  The WOMAN makes the clothes.  Brittany: 1.  Wardrobe:  ...probably still winning.  Self esteem:  on the rise.

Happy birthday to Skyrim!  Oh, to be 23 again...