Heading into the busy holiday season I thought I would try to organize myself. I would love to be one of those "5 year plan-It's all going according to schedule" girls but these are words I have never uttered. Ever. There are things I am good at organizing; like other people's events-which can be very helpful this season. But there are organizational tools that elude me, for example choreographing a Puppy and Kitty Xmas Carolling Concert- I don't know how those animals on the radio do it. Oh and Social planning. It's not my forte. Please let me explain. I am great in social situations, it's all the other stuff that goes with them that I stink at.
Firstly, I am not a good planner. Not to mean I can't make plans and keep them. It's just that I like to fly by the seat of my pants which means I leave a lot up to destiny. I make general plans with multiple options for amusement. Letting myself go with the flow- a BFF trick extraordinaire. It's a lot more fun that way. Unless of course you're married to the Commish, who must account for every minute he's on the clock, otherwise the boys upstairs will start giving him heat; and he's too old for that.
Secondly, I tend to double, triple and in rare cases even quintuple book myself. The enthusiasm of just being invited somewhere clouds my judgment, going against all scientific theories of time and space. Which I hope by this time in the year 2014 (baring the Rapture) we'll have solved. And I will be able to attend all events simultaneously on a fractured timeline.
Thirdly, distraction. I am easily distracted. Oh! A squirrel!
Fourthly, short term memory loss. Did someone say something about squirrels? If I don't write it down it's gone.
Fifthly, I forget every year this coming month goes by so fast and then the parties are over. It's a busy blur of festive cheer. Leaving us in the Daylight savings dark with nothing to celebrate until Valentine's day.
So, I hope this year to take advantage of some much needed celebrating. Despite all my social foibles. There something relieving about FB holiday invites going out early and the pre-event planning I've been involved in. So, this year I look forward to wrapping myself up in an ugly Sandy Clause sweater and enjoying all the miracles and merriment of the season. At least that's my plan;)
The Dawn is Breaking, the dream is over. I’m a “Twilight” super fan and now I’m going national, having been invited to share my enthusiasm with a country of screaming fans. Breaking Dawn pt2 marks the final installment the Twlight saga. A sad day. I’m also a card carrying member of Team Jacob, though not necessarily team Lautner, as he was very much a minor when this whole thing began (I have the same issue with Bieber, but that's another story). The ultimate question for Twi-hards: are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?
Vampires are often tortured souls who live eternal lives. There is something undeniably romantic about a 1000-year-old falling in love with you. You're the most beautiful person he's ever met. You’re the object he's been undying for. You’re his mate…and vampires mate for life! Those mates join Covens – together – for the entire afterlife. But the idea of having to consume blood to stay 'alive', well, that's a choice I'd rather not make. I’m even squeamish around Grey's Anatomy blood.
Werewolves on the other hand are monsters. But they are also warm and fuzzy. Once a month they get furry and ferocious. The Twilight werewolf pack, however, are really more shape-shifters than werewolves, in the typical sense. They have rage issues and can be dangerous to those they love and those who love them. But their love is everlasting- ah hello- imprinted! As pack animals, you're stuck with your pack. And being part of that pack isn’t chosen, it's genetic, which is tough cuz you have to take into account that any pups in your litter could be werewolves too.
It's tough to pick a side.
In the ever-hopeful event that any of these mystical things actually happen, I choose werewolf -to be diplomatic. It's only fair that I give Edward to my girlfriend. I mean, she did invite me to the tiny town of Forks. However, we do have an agreement that should Edward truly love me, she would gracefully resign her affections. As any good friend would for eternal love. Fingers crossed, I'll be able to pick a few more members of that coven. There are people I wouldn't want to be undead without:)
Being a good person and being a good friend are two very different things. In my friendship circle, I have inner, mid-level, outer and occasional friends. Rings like a bullseye. I have subconsciously divided up my free time between each ring. I have also realized certain friends are better for certain things. Like my doggie park friend. My musical theatre friend. My chick flick buddy. Or the gossip girl. I have a special connection with each member of every ring. But I didn't realize, I have a ring outside of that: The I wish we could be friends ring.
That is a strange feeling. I consider myself a sweet and caring gal. A good friend, a nice neighbour, a loving wife. There are people who are so nice! So wicked! People who are super great, but for whatever reason, we can't be friends. The reasons vary from conflicting schedules, allergies, distance and sometimes, though it's hard for me to admit- disinterest. There are people that no matter how nice, sweet and similar we are, we're just not friends. This revelation comes as a stiff tonic. I thought I could be everybody's Bestie.
With FB and social media connecting us so tightly we can often be confused as to whom our real friends are. Clicking a button and participating in a relative stranger's life. Being busy adults we must take responsibility for the choices we've made. The fact that you know the daily trials of your grade 5 classmate's baby- doesn't necessarily mean you should invest daily in that relationship. Perhaps we should unplug ourselves for a few hours and focus on our realtime relationships. But don't unplug from this blog, cuz I am your realtime friend:) and that's a circle I can get into.
The hardest part of any art? The middle. All creators of all art forms know that the idea is exciting. Creating an original concept, all your own- what could be better? The planning and pitching can be a hard but rewarding way to share your art. It's the middle. That becomes the hardest, longest and most challenging part. When the art becomes work. And that's not what we signed on for as creative folks. Creative people can have a hard time fulfilling their own dreams. And the amount and quality of material an artist creates is dictated by their commitment to their goal and personal deadlines. Making art is a hard career. It's easy to loose interest in art that becomes work. Especially in the middle.
This theory applies to acting. Auditioning is a challenge. Creating a character from the sides provided. Convincing a table full of folks who know what they're looking for, that you are that thing. The waiting until the word comes you were cast. The first day of rehearsals and getting to know your castmates- awesome. Building your character, complimenting your cast and memorizing the words written for you to express yourself. Then the middle begins. Strangely the middle lasts until after opening, through the run and into the final week of shows, when the work suddenly doesn't feel so worky anymore. It becomes art again. And that art becomes fun again. It applies to music. Sitting with your instrument, your band, your creativity, writing what comes to mind. Fooling around until you're happy with what this tiny idea has transformed into; a fully formed music baby. Then comes the strumming and rehearsal of the song. Followed by playing that song until you've forgotten why it was so special when you wrote it. Painters know that a new canvas holds untold opportunities for expression. The minute a brush hits the surface, it becomes harder ever finish, the long lonely hours spent planning and painting. Don't even get me started on writers. There are scripts, novellas and poems sitting unfinished in drawers and on desktops. Millions of secret art, awaiting their fate in the unfun middle. Art is hard.
This is the unseen side of art. The hustle, the bustle, the grind. Beginning, begging and borrowing. Trying to stay motivated through the work. The constant possibility that you and you're art may not be as special as they thought. The fear that you will let the ever present "THEM" down. That the people who believe in you might have misplaced their faith. The fear that you might try your hardest to produce the most special art that you will ever create. Only to have no one notice. To be alone in your art. Art is meant to be shared. But what if you aren't an artist? What if after years of trying, lying, starving and striving, you're not good enough? Well, my friend, just that fear alone says you're an artist. So struggle, sweat and swear. Maybe cry a few times. As for my Art? I can hardly remember the start and I am no where near the end. But I am closer to where the dreaded middle ends, and it becomes fun again...I hope.
I am just going to go ahead and coin the term North Poehler! A Canadian who loves Amy Poehler- catchy I know! Whoa! That was too many exclamation points. Anyhow, while watching Parks and Rec, I was schooled about "Treat Yo'Self"! A yearly tradition when you get to spoil yourself for the whole day. Well, being the broke sass I am, it's not likely I'll get to Treat My'self anytime soon. But since it is my birthday, I thought I would write a
"Treat Yo Self" wish list:)
1. An iPad to aide in my internet takeover
2. Unlimited Hula classes
3. Full body massage with rose water facial and scalp treatment
4. Ukulele Manicure and Kandy Korn Pedicure
5. Vaca to a sunny beach so I can catch up on my reading
6. Create a Melicious Manners logo design
7. A pretty pink princess dress complete with tiara and blonde updo wig
8. Pin-up style vintage photo shoot and new head shots!
9. Limo for 8 going to Niagara Falls to do all the quirky museums and Ripley's and a room with a view of the Falls
10. Snap up those high priced concert tickets- Maroon 5, Pink and Bon Jovi
11. A $500 gift certificate to Lululemon
12. Mojitos and Playa Cabana catering all day long
13. Those dang Ikea shelves put up by a Handy Man
14. More lessons with Ukeologist Judy!
15. Dance lessons & circus training- but that might take more than a day
16. Prepaid personal shopper with a flair for vintage
17. I was going to do wishes up to my age, but I then thought better of it:)
This list doesn't sound like much of a Treat My'self day, it sounds like a MeliciousManners Better Yo'Self list with vacations and a few future plans thrown in for colour. Sigh. It's strange to think that my treats are learning, escaping and improving. My fellow North Poehlers, I encourage you to think about ways to "Treat Yo'Self"! Maybe you should watch Parks & Rec; 22mins of awesomesauce in it's 5th season of Wowey! Available on Netflix! Another exclamation?!? Really? I need less enthusiasm or more emoticons...emoticons it is:)
Writing, every person who can write, does. That's not to say that every person can do it well. And people who practise can typically write even better. Well, people, I can do it, I do it well and I practise. That should stand on it's own. But it doesn't, writing is something that is beautifully read in the eyes of the beholder. The value of those words and stories depend on the reader. People who can read, do it. And do it everyday. And people who can write will continue to do it. Hopefully they do it well. Otherwise what would happen in a world without stories?
I want to write stories and tell tales and maybe even spin a yarn or two. I always have. I want to tell stories to people. Stories that roll around in my head. The characters I hang with when I am on my own, and the mischief they get into. But I want to be able to work on them, because I love them. But asking for money for something you love. Well, that just makes me feel guilty. Wanting to be working at something you're in love with, seems greedy. Most people are happy with a job, a steady pay check- Too bad if you don't like it. Do it for the money. I should be happier that I am doing what I love and that is it's own reward. Oh and it really is. I love having inside jokes in an online world. I love that I have been tough enough on myself to stick with it. But it does seem kinda lack luster when your big launch happens and it's just you typing at a computer and your dog waiting to go for a walk. Also there's a missing thank you cuz I want to reward you for reading. For making this an emotional success for me. I do want to start working on more of a contractual basis, you know like a job. But here's the problem, I don't have any experience.
I don't have experience? Okay, I am not sure how much more practise I will need before I start gaining some "experience". I have not dealt with deadlines. Because daily entries for 11 months straight, is a flimsy work ethic. Oh a track record. Perhaps a school newspaper? Head of the Young Voices of Canada club? Maybe I have 2 years to work as an unpaid intern in a publishing firm or daily rag. I should have a degree in journalism with at least 5+ years of online media editorial experience. Alright, alright already, I am so I'm not Arianna Huffington. And I am not saying I am Tolstoy, I would never be that presumptuous. I will, however wait for a critic to say it, then quote it on my FB fanpage and the outside jacket of my book, well series of books. Sorry, tangent, I was also writing my Oscar speech, but I can't decide which category I am accepting for. As far as I am concerned I have already climbed that well written mountain, in my mind. Now how do I photoshop this resume to prove I am up here? Cuz people are never going to believe I was. Okay, okay, so maybe they're right I do need a bit more practice. But I am on the journey to becoming an above average writer, if I do say so myself. And I just did.
Oh Pop culture how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. When I was growing up there was a lot of story telling. Joke telling. You heard about hip songs from that one friend who knew music. You read fashion magazines to learn style. You quoted television shows. If you wanted information about what was hip, you went to a hip person. You couldn't outright ask them, of course, because then they'd know you were not hip. You had to absorb and translate their hipness. But now! Oh my little pop culture, how you've grown.
Have you danced lately? Have you whooped'em Gangnam style? If not you should. It's really fun! Pop culture is no longer just regional- it's become a global obsession. With social media, we've all become entertainment editors- choosing, sharing and championing the next big thing. The best part about that is everyone can be Pop! No matter where, no matter who, you can set a trend. I am in love with it! Truly in love with watching mash up videos created by fanboys and girls. Tip and trick instructional videos. Watching Pop icons mock themselves- shocked that their 15 minutes is passing so fast. Doing the circuit and schmoozing with Seacrest. SNL and CNN equally intrigued with the Pop movement of the moment. Pop culture welcomes the weird, the wacky, the talented and the terrifying. There is room for us all.
Technology is helping us tell stories. Recording our jokes and teaching us that being hip comes from being yourself. When things get sad, just take a deep breath, hit the search bar and wait for that special viral feeling to overwhelm you. Or get out your camera and make a music video. Smile! Dance! Post, share, laugh and love the culture we're popping together. Then crank up the speakers, whip out that lasso, sing a song in Korean and Pop goes the world again.
Procrastination, complacency and a short attention span. Have you ever met someone who just wasn't quite reaching their potential? Someone with great ideas and no follow through. Maybe a talented loved one who won't take a chance on themselves. The uncertified baby yoga instructor who doesn't want to spend the time for certification. A close friend who's holding themselves back from the successes they could attain. The biggest difference between success and complacency is actually doing it. And the hardest part of doing anything? Is doing it. It's no accident that some people succeed, contrarywise, it's no coincidence that others fail.
My fear of failing myself (or the standard to which I hold myself) has garnered me a semi popular blog, super amazing awesome wicked friends, a matching set of under eye baggage, a loving Hubby, a pair of saddle bags and the satisfaction of a job done- not always particulairly well, but I am completing my tasks and I am continuously challenging myself. With persistent motivation, I am like a dog with a blog. I have recognized how varied and difficult my goals are and I am confident that my stamina will be recognized- fingers crossed. Even if it is just by my Momma. I've decided that I am unhappy being anything less than the person I want people to see me as. Keeping it together is hard work, I am tired, but everything, good or bad, comes at a price.
Working in an artistic arena I have had oppurtunity to meet all types of creative people. Key root of the word being create. But within the ranks of the creative there are people who sabotage themselves and others, for fear they will be left behind. Writers who've never reached a climax. Dancers who don't stretch themselves. People who fall short of their potential. Playing it safe because the fear of failing is more powerful than the possiblity of success. In my endeavors I have made an agreement with myself that I won't be 'a day late and dollar short' to my own life.
So, here's my challenge to you cyber folks. Encourage all those under-estimaters to a challenge themselves. Then challenge yourself! Make a plan. A marking post to measure yourself by. It's amazing how achievable dreams become when you break them down into bite sizes and add a dash of healthy competition. Today is the perfect day to be brave, be bold. Take your dreams by the procrastinators and hold on tight for a wild ride. Instead of complacency, how about y'all come play with me! I can probably pack your things in my under eye baggage:)
At 2am after a night of working hard on an online submission audition Hubby came to bed angry. Mad that he hadn't finished more. Angry that things weren't as easy as he'd hoped. Put out by how difficult it actually was putting together something that he could be proud of. Both Hubby and I are perfectionists.... Did I mention that? But perfection takes time, effort and stamina. Also perfection takes a RED camera, lapel mics and at least 3 chimeras and 4 bounces- not to mention a choreographer, 1st AD and editor. The reason professional things look that way, is because they have the money, smackers, yen and pesos to pay for it. I can shoot as much as I want on my HD iPhone 4, but it's just never going to look perfect.
On take 3 of shot #5 I realized it. The reason we want so much of ourselves is because we want more people striving for perfection. Being the poor and starving artists we know what we can do, why wouldn't we expect that or more from a film crew of 80. This is the fact that makes us perfect for this industry of try hard perfectionists. If there is something that I have heard in every interview- every performer wants the best art to be made for the effort they are making. Would you do a nude scene? The answer across the board= If it was important to the story line, and if it is artistically done I would have no trouble doing it. That comes from a performer who wants the best for each project. The face in front of a crew of people all pulling to make something beautiful. Something unexpected. The performance of the season. In every performance they do. A true artist, of the starving variety is a perfectionist.
The inner monologue of the striver, the performer who wants to be their best goes like this: "Are my eyes blinking too much, on the next line I have to hit a mark accurately so that I am at my best angle, when I get to that mark I have to gesture with my left hand to the clue, while also picking up the prop I need for the next scene. I have to exit the frame from the left. While holding this prop, so I can have it in the scene we're filming in 2 and 7/8th days. Oh and don't do that thing with you eye because you don't have that action until you turn around." Plus remembering lines and saying them with the same intonation 27 times in a row. You must be a perfect performer to even do the basics of this job. That's not even taking into account the crying and screaming- and making that look honest. Be you an ugly cryer like Halle Berry or the cryer that let's the tears roll freely without marring your still beautiful face. Or how about fight scenes? Those are supposed to seem spontaneous, but they've been practised until the crew was ready to fall asleep. This is a tough job. So, here's one going out to all the starry eyed youth thinking that you won't need math and science to be a famous actor. It takes so much more than that. Study social science, biology and athletics. Geography and History couldn't hurt either. So, if you're coming down this yellow brick road, please pack a survival kit, cuz this life is tough and unexpected. But the rest of us perfectionists are up for it, if you are:)
I have done it. I have measured. From where I sit it doesn't look good. I knew things had gotten off track but I didn't realize that they had gotten so far off track, careening down a steep rocky slope, spontaneously combusting, only to come to rest at the bottom, upside down; a swollen smoldering wreck. That sounds dramatic but that's how I felt upon completing my measurements. I then promptly had a panic attack.
I knew things were rough, the tell tale sign? Doing surface repairs; expecting to feel better about myself. Hair cut. Which was much needed and welcomes a chic blossom of blonde bangs. New boots. That make me feel like dancing and kicking sass, in equal parts. Schmancy new jeans- and herein lies the rub-they are a size bigger than I have ever been. Hello McFly! I've been eating meat and cakes and pies. Deep fried anything and butter soaked regret. And trying to convince myself that it's okay. For the last 9 months I have been bragging about my blog stick-to-it've-ness and how determined I am. Well, turns out writing a daily blog is easier than rearranging my diet or exercising. But enough is enough, the way things have been isn't working, quite obviously. I've promised to make things better. Why aren't I actually doing it? I think the thought of climbing this mountain is scary. So scary I've been grinding my teeth. Since the idea of this whole self-improvement thing started I have been putting off the numbers. Sizes, measurements and inches chasing me around-stressing me out. I've been losing sleep over it. The desperate need to pull myself up by the boot straps and pull myself together. But really who do you know that's really pulled together? We're all effed, at least a little bit. But I would rather be effed in the head, than effed in a pair of giant jeans.
What a strange way to feel- recognizing things need to change and knowing I am the only one who can do it. The very scariest part is that I might fail this experiment. Though it's not an experiment at all, it's an important part of my dream career path. Sadly, looking great is one of the crucial components. So, here we go- the hardest, scariest and most honest thing I have ever posted.
My numbers:
Height 68 inches or 5'8"
Weight 174.4lbs
Following measurements are in inches
Bust 40
Natural waist 33
Hips 44
Thighs sitting: r:25 l:25.75
Thigh standing r:24.5 l :25
Arm rest r: 13.5 l:13.5
Arm flex r:13.75 l:13.5
These are my starting measurements and I will keep you posted with changes periodically. My hope is to also find out my resting heart rate, BMI and endurance. I am hoping for a swift shift to being on track again. But first I have to put out a few smoldering fires.
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