I Am... A Channel. Tune In.

I have found myself starting blog posts and getting lost in what the heck my point was supposed to be and then not finishing them. Maybe also because a lot of the time, I'm writing this at work when I should be working or I am working and I get distracted by what I'm actually getting paid for. This small detail aside, I have thought several times in the past few months about shutting this blog down. I actually had a externally-tearful internal battle about it a little less than a month ago: staring down the behind-the-scenes interface like an ex-lover with whom I had a fat fucking dinosaur femur to pick. But here we are, still, and I'm still unsure I'm ready to deprive my three readers deeper insights into my psyche than my inevitable changeover to Twitter would provide. (By the way, I was on Twitter before all y'all - early 2007 when my friend Al introduced me to it. And then I deleted my account last summer, then re-joined as brashlionroars. And I've updated exactly 30 times in like 4 months. Over it.)

As per usual, I'm experiencing a lil' bit of an existential non-crisis and coming to love myself for the unfocused renaissance woman I am. Instead of beating myself with the question, "Why aren't you famous yet?" or "Why aren't you making money as a performer?", etc, etc, etc, I'm quieting down and enjoying each day as it comes. In reading the latest New Yorker, in an article about the late David Foster Wallace, the sentence about his perception that people with lower intelligence are happier, having the attitude of "one day at a time," jumped out at me. Because this is the attitude that I have been cultivating within the past few years: day by day, moment by moment. There is no future, there is no past. It is only right now. We are all waiting for Godot.

Now, I'm not as smart as some people and I'm a lot smarter than a lot more people, but I'm not going to debate the stupidity of someone that decides to relinquish a great deal of control and settle upon the fact that, hey, the past is gone. I did it, it's done, and all I can do is learn from my mistakes. And maybe I'll make the same mistakes over again. But one day - I'll get it right. And as for the future, it is unwritten. What I am living is the NOW and that is the only place wherein I can institute change.

That said, and since it's taken me over two hours to write this freakin' post (see beginning of post), I don't know how this will correlate, but I have been thinking and re-thinking a lot about what my destiny in life is. I have, for as long as I can remember, wanted to perform. I am good - no - fabulous at it. I have been blessed with a captivating stage presence. I don't think this is bragging; I have been told this by many, many people. And no one has ever had the balls to tell me I sucked, so either I surround myself with gutless scaredy-cats or I just don't suck. Even when "Super Glossy!" was lightly panned as an uninteresting script, each reviewer commented on my ability to sell it through a stunning performance.

I have tried many different paths to the stage, there has been something about every single path that hasn't totally clicked for me. I don't like the auditioning part of acting (and to be fair, I have never fully given it a shot; there is just so much fear around it for me that I have successfully talked myself into hating it), I don't like the memorization of good story-telling, and I don't like the pressure of coming up with new material that stand-up comedy demands (among many other things I hate about stand-up). However, with the radio show this weekend, something... just... clicked.

Now, I understand, I am a total amateur. And this makes me think of when my grandfather commended a youthful teen-aged me on my ability to move on to something new when something current wasn't working for me. I interpreted this to mean (I don't think my grandfather intended it like this) that I never let things ripen. I get discouraged and because I am lucky enough to have the talent to do a lot of different things, I just keep moving to the next thing that I think will hold me. The incoming of accolades and encouragement I have received from Sunday night's show (again, no one has had the balls to tell me I sucked, but would it matter anyway? I'm freaking high from what I believe I can do now) have me thinking that the life I've been meant to live is now right in front of me, if not shrouded by inexperience and the uncertainty of How.

I took the Myers' Briggs personality test a couple of weeks ago and discovered I am an ENFP. Now, one might take this to be a fancier kind of Zodiac, but it was all the sign I needed - I am the Inspirer. Ever since Mr. Moore's sociology class in high school when I drew what I wanted engraved on my tombstone, and I paraphrase, "An Influential Voice For All," I have known that I want to touch the hearts and minds of everyone I meet. Doing the show on Sunday rekindled my joy for listening to other people's endeavors and knowing that the world is a better place with their puzzle piece in it. And it made me realize that I just want to talk to people about how they're living their dreams and I want to do it in a public forum so that everyone can hear how simple it truly is. You just have to tune in, past all the stimuli we're inundated with; listen to your soul and jump.

So here I go. I discovered this past week (here's Providence working for you - BTW, my belief in a "higher power," has unexpectedly taken a handle on me... weird. 13-year-old Courtney would have not talked to me) that I have a couple of unrelated connections to the same local radio station. I have connections from the radio station I used to work at in San Diego. All of these people believe in my ability to do this. I believe in my ability to do this because it's just there. And - I get to do everything I'm good at: use my stage presence (which of course will be all vocal, but that's there), be funny off-the-cuff, talk to others, and inspire others. And go to work in a T-shirt and jeans.

This might be my new-fangled crazy idea, but I'm ready to go for it. Who's with me??

Stay tuned.

We Are Family

Yesterday was my friend Catherine's 30th birthday. Catherine and I have known each other since we were 6 and 7 years old, respectively, she being a grade lower than I. So, knowing that she is back in California and turning 30 is just a slightly weird feeling. It's as if your own 30th birthday (even though I have nooooo idea how that feels and won't for another 12 years) isn't enough to remind you how time is flying by. When a lifelong friend who is 6 months younger than you (again, this is hypothetical) rounds such a milestone, it's as if it really hits home.

Yesterday was also my grandfather's 82nd birthday. I spoke with him and my step-Gramma, Dorothy, and as we talked, I sunk deeper into another one of my descending waves. (I was explaining to my mother a half-hour later that my moods are up and down these days, and though the difference between them isn't like mania/depression, I definitely have good days and bad. Though the good days these days exist below the ideal line of happiness. I would deduce this means I'm simply depressed and not bipolar, which is quite a relief. Although I'm also not a doctor. I'll take what I can get I suppose). I love talking with my grandfather because he is a gruff, funny, and yet tender man and I know he loves and admires me very much. I can't help but feel like the loser in my family. Now that my brother, my cousin Eric, and I are all grown up (I'm the oldest), I'm the one that has the least amount of "adult credits" to my name. My brother has been married for four years, is about to start school again to become an electrical engineer (this is what Grandpa tells me), and is making a pretty good living anyway working on boats. And my cousin just had a baby and works a respectable corporate job. Growing up, I had always felt like the star grandchild, the one with the most promise in life. Now, especially as the oldest, I feel like the loser: single, financially unstable, and still chasing after her childhood dream and not selling her soul for money, stability, and a family. I'm not accusing my dear brother and cousin of doing this, I just know that my soul calls me elsewhere and I know it's not the beaten path and I also know this makes me appear to be a loser who can't get her shit together. And granted, when I say "know," I know this means how I perceive the situation. And whether there actually is a situation. I suppose I just am feeling a lack of that admiration I received as the over-achieving oldest grandchild and now that my brother and cousin are growing up to be the men we always knew they could be, I'm left out because I've slowed down in my progression.

Although I really haven't.

I don't know why my grandfather's opinion matters as much as it does and it's not like he's really given it to me the way I see it. I'm clearly projecting my own insecurities about the life I've chosen upon myself in the form of his supposed disapproval. We ended the phone call with "I Love Yous" and it was admittedly not as harrowing a call on my self-esteem as I might paint it, but the interactions throughout the past few years have just been getting decreasingly "I'm proud of you," and increasingly "look at what your brother and cousin have." And the residue builds in my memories. At least my grandmother died knowing I was going somewhere.

Clearly, I'm looking down the tunnel of self-doubt and not taking into account the birthday & Christmas cards & donations for my work with notes that say "We're so proud of you." I say this with absolutely no irony and a genuine sense of "duh."

I lay on my bed with tears falling down my face after the phone call. I called Catherine next after I breathed myself off the edge and had a light-hearted chat for a minute. Upon hanging up with her, I knew my next step was to call someone to get a little breath of hope. And the only person I could think to talk to was my mother, although as most mother/daughter relationships go, I was scared that I would not find the solace I needed. Thank goodness I was wrong.

I talked to my mother for the shortest hour ever and she totally lifted my spirits and made me feel like the winner I am. It's amazing to experience my parents' spiritual awakenings as I experience my own. I realize this is no coincidence, again just a matter of my perspective. I am so lucky, no matter how much dysfunction or screaming or resentment exists, I have grown up within the home of two still-happily married people who continue to support me through their faith in my dreams. It's never been perfect and I don't expect it to be, but the words my mother imparted to me last night were exactly what I needed to hear. She is herself living through a time of little work and trying to find things to keep her occupied (like relearning the piano! Awesome!) and reminding herself that in this downtime is to be found peace and rejuvenation. This is congruous to my life here in the Tundra, where I am sitting at a desk all day then sitting in front of the TV or on my bed all night. There's a lot to do here, but lack of funds at this moment prohibits me from doing much... at least according to my limited research. Mom reminded me that I'm going through a tough time right now: a new home in a new city, a new angle on a relatively new relationship, a new climate, a new way of life. I have to allow myself a period of adjustment. My argument was that I'm wasting time. That every minute I'm not doing something to further my career, be it writing, acting, playing banjo, making contacts, seeing a show, performing an open mic, getting out there... but she assured me that I'm where I need to be and I have all the time in the world. I tell myself this frequently, but sometimes I need to hear it from someone else, especially someone older and wiser. I hung up the phone with a renewed sense of direction and purpose.

And not to discount my father's phone call to me this week acknowledging my tough times and bestowing his normal feel-good stories about the people in his life and making me feel really happy that he's enjoying his life so much right now.

My parents rule. I love you, Mom and Dad. (And Grandpa & Dorothy too. Everyone.)