Ugh. I can't think

Pasha and I have not talked yet. He called on Sunday to "collect all the facts", and he called last night to "schedule an appointment" to "talk" I HATE THOSE WORDS - ANY FORM OF THEM.

"I think we should talk"
"I need to talk to you"
"We should probably talk"

I mean he's all about not lying...so he should say:

"I think we should break up."
"I need to break up with you"
"We should probably break up"

Isn't that what you hear?

Anyway, I'll tell you what happened. I will, but right now I should probably wait till we "talk."
Ugh.

It's really hard to function when you're staying at heartbreak hotel. I've been hanging out in my grotesque apartment. I mean seriously, I really should stop lying in my pile of dirty clothing, and get on the ball. Luckily, I have had some distraction. I go to rehearsal, and I watch House. I've already finished The Office. So, it's House now, and his arrogant jerkness makes me feel better. I'm living vicariously through him. Sure, I'm not doing biopsies on cats, and I'm not saving people's lives PER SE. I am, however, laughing at funny things I don't have to think about.

For example, today, I got an email from a man with the last name "Potter" hee hee. He was asking me to send him over a fax. So, I sent the fax, picked up the phone, called him and I said,
"Well, Potter. What do you have to say for yourself?" (read that as: Hello Mr. Potter, I sent over the fax did you receive it?)

"Thanks Beverley, I did get the fax."

"Is there anything else you need Potter?" hee hee... (Mr. Potter)

"Nope. Quiddich it is." (Thanks, I'll call you if I need anything else.)

Come on. If you were talking to a guy named Potter...wouldn't you chuckle a little? I'm sorry, my humor has been sucked out of me.

I lost my shoes this weekend.

Paralyzed by heartache and fear, I can't find the right words at this moment to tell you what happened.

I'm diving into work right now to ease my suffering heart, and I just need time to process my thoughts.

There is humor in every tragedy, so, I lost my shoes this weekend. I chased after Pasha to fight for our relationship, and I took my shoes off in the process. I left them in the street, and when I went back to see if they were there....they weren't. I was in the marina for goodness sake, why is someone gonna take my $60 dollar pair of shoes?!?!? Luckily for me, I drive through the tenderloin every morning on my way to work. I checked out the little shops people have set up, and I looked for my shoes.

Nothing.

Drats! Plus, I did not loose them together. I lost them separately in different locations. What are two people going to do with one shoe?

Saturday Morning

It's 9:40am on Saturday, and I'm sitting here at my computer with a cup of coffee in my hands. The weather is sort of a bleakish grey, but I am still looking out my window watching the hustle and bustle of the busy street.

So THIS is what it's going to feel like on Saturday's in November.

I thought I would just sit down at my computer and give it a whirl before I head off to scrub down the kitchen.

Good morning world!

Wishful Thinking...

6:12pm on Thursday, October 25th, Pasha races towards the Golden Gate Bridge. Frantic for parking, he decides to throw himself out of the moving car. Amongst the blaze of the Honda Civic fire, he dashes towards the white and black mass strewn in the grass. He kneels beside the detestable and repulsive heap of human, resembling his girlfriend, and he scoops her into his arms and says, “My love, I will carry you home.” Drenched in mucus and sweat I retort, “How did you find me?” Softly in my ear he replies, “Lassie told me.”

Ok, so that didn’t really happen. And for the record, Pasha would NEVER carry me home. He might drive to where I’d be laying, roll down the window and say, “I can’t find parking – please get up and let’s get some dinner; I’m starving.”

I did, however, go for a run yesterday (on sore legs), and during the run I thought – crap, I might die right here - right now. So, I looked for a spot in the grass to finish out my remaining time, and nothing looked appealing. Defeated, I turned around and went home.

The running must be doing something right because I did manage to make it to my rehearsal last night for The Lamplighter’s Gala. This short comedic satire of Harry Potter is going to be sensational. We listened to the whole first act yesterday, and I barley noticed the fact I missed an episode of The Office.

Thursdays with Beverley

A sense of peace overwhelmed me this morning during my makeshift hot chocolate cup of coffee because of my fond thoughts of Morrie and his cheesy well received messages he offered me the night before.

Pasha turns to his weeping girlfriend, as he begins to nod off slowly, and says, “Was this made for TV?”

Sniveling I reply, “I think so. Oprah was on in the beginning.”

Stifling his chuckle he says, “You knew he was going to die in the beginning of the movie, AND you read the book….”

“Yes Pasha, but I see the dancer turning RIGHT”

Running

I dreaded..dreaded... dreaded "The Mile" days in high school when we had to run one mile in P.E. I tried and tried to think of "sick" excuses that would help me get out of the daunting task. Sometimes being a woman worked, but that did not get me very far. Plus that excuse was better fit for swimming class. All week "The Mile" loomed over my cursed self, and the doom meddled into my conscious mind approximately one second after completing that one mile in 15 minutes flat. ha.

A friend of mine once decided that we were going to RUN THE WHOLE THING. Woah. How on earth were we going to embark on a journey requiring us to complete four whole laps with out stopping? We were determined to get a better mile time than 15 minutes. We were also tired of always coming in last, but somehow we lost track our our laps somewhere around two or three, so, we started our FIFTH lap...and came still came in DEAD LAST. Luckily, we talked our teacher into giving us a 10 minute mile time because he could see from our sweat drenched and beet red faces we weren't lying. That was the first and last time I remember running that whole damn mile with out stopping until I reached college.

My ex and I decided that we were going to train for a triathlon for three months that we never ended up doing, but the experience of training was well worth it. Once again the ONE mile faced me, and sharing my horrifying experiences in high school did not help me. I faced endless miles, a swim and a bike ride, and my tormented heart courageously took on the challenge. I remember my first day of running like it was yesterday.

We headed out for the track on Sonoma State University, and we discovered that I liked to run on my toes, ha! I fixed that quickly, and then, for the first time in four years, I ran ONE MILE without stopping. My quick celebration got interrupted by the sudden queasiness that turned into collapsing in the grass in utter agony. My only relief was puking in the trash can after ten minutes of rolling around like a dying sea whale. Please remember that this is after ONE MILE OF RUNNING.

I kept at it, and soon discovered that I could in fact run one mile. I could actually run seven miles without stopping, and I started to run all the time.

I stopped running once we learned our academic schedules did not allow us to run the triathlon, and I did not pick up running again years later when I got over the devastation of our break up. I've never been able to get back up to that caliber of running again, even with Pasha the pro-athlete-runaholic boyfriend that asks me to run with him ALL THE TIME. I bet he thinks I made up this whole running story, and that I've never run in my entire life. hahaha. Besides, I've had walking to work and dance in rehearsals to keep me in shape - both of which I do not do any more. So, I decided to go for a run yesterday.

The memories of high school flooded into my brain quickly, when I had to consciously ask my feet not to run on my tippie-toes. I also had to remind myself that I can not just pick up where I left off, and I had to take a slower pace on this particular course. Of course I had to pick the time to run, when EVERYONE was running, and I started to feel self conscious as the redness in my face matched my red shorts just after 1/2 of a mile. All the people staring at me must have thought I was on the last stretch of the thirteen mile run I mapped out for myself. They don't have to know that I had just started, although my slow slow pace and stop and start tactics might have given me away. Especially, when the pregnant woman running with a stroller passed me.

I managed to get it together to run two miles and walk another two. I'm going to celebrate the small victories, and I'm going to congratulate myself for getting out there and running again. - That can be the hardest part.

What day is it today?

Did I remember to take a shower? Yes.
Did I remember to park my car in a non street cleaning day? Yes.
Did all of these types of questions evade my brain yesterday? Yes.

Sunday night was the beginning of my demise, when I realized that I had rehearsal Sunday night. My rehearsal started at 7:30pm, but I did not remember until Monday morning at 7:00am. I just plum forgot I had rehearsal, and for NO good reason except my brain lapsed. I forgot that I did not have a voice lesson. I forgot I have a dentist appointment. I would loose my head if it was not attached to my body.

What is the matter with me? I’m slowly but surely loosing my mind, and all my common sense capabilities – obviously. I think I need to take the time tonight to rejuvenate myself.

I'm pregnant - just kidding.

I’ve fallen down on posting, and with November’s vast approach, I thought I would better get on it.

Have you ever been to Lemo’s Farm in Halfmoon Bay?



It resembles very much a children’s farm as apposed to a pumpkin farm. I was unclear on the process… was I supposed to search the grounds for a pumpkin to take home or a child? Hmmm….what type of child should Pash and I take home today, the one pouting in the wheel barrel? The one picking up the goat’s dropping’s in the petting zoo mistaking the poo for a mid-day snack? Oh, how about the one that is standing on the hay stack screaming like the entire world is coming to an end. Quick, someone ANYONE…just give the kid a cookie or a shot of patron.

One of Pash’s friend’s son turned two yesterday, and to celebrate we drove all the way down to Lemo’s Farm. We were the only couple there that did not have children, and even worse…we weren’t married. Luckily, I managed to put myself together enough for a Sunday morning hiding all the sin a single woman in her 20’s experiences in her weekends in San Francisco. This includes sleepless nights at raves, binge drinking till my liver gives out at the hospital and hording off all the pawing men at the strip club as I leave work. OR even worse, I had to hide the fact that Pash and I were plotting how to infect their children with all the evils that I clearly embody.

Grinning and bearing two hours of “mmmmmm this tastes so good…you have some,” “oh, I’m surprised you and Pash are still together, when are you getting married?” “Don’t put your finger in her food honey,” “I am not going to stand in the train line for 60 minutes,” and “oh, you must be too young to understand what we’re talking about” in birth control city was enough for me to realize that I just enjoy reading about other people’s life with kids…. I’m not ready to embark on my own path of motherhood. I’m not entirely convinced that I will ever reach that moment of wanting to embark on my own path, but who knows. I spent the majority of my child hood playing house – that say’s something. Right?

Right or Left Brained?

I had a whole post about how my thwarted parking ambitions brought me to a fit of angry tears, and even recounting the event yesterday boiled my blood. But then I met my nemesis. Here she is...




Thank you very very much News Person.

So, tell me, which way is she going?
If you see her going clockwise, you're mostly right brained.
If you see her going counter-clockwise, you're mostly left brained. She is an optical illusion, and you can get her to go both ways.

UNLESS YOU ARE BEVERLEY, and you can only get her to go clockwise.... it was mildly irritating, but I did finally get her to go left. Then I showed Pasha, and I couldn't get her to go left, and he couldn't get her to go right. I think I am just going to watch The Office now.... I'll come back, and see how you're doing.

Breath of Fresh Air

I've momentarily been quiet since my Target post, but mostly because I have been slammed with some freelance work, rehearsal for the Gala and spending time organizing my life. I'll be right back.

My Pursuit

First of all, I am really dismayed by how OBLIVIOUS I am. How could the majority of the movie "The Pursuit of Happyness" be filmed in my backyard, and I did not even get a GLIMPSE of the cameras?

Regardless, I did watch the movie last night. I've been so consumed by my own self pity, and wallowing in my "stressful" situations; it was nice to take a step back and put my life into perspective. Don't get me wrong, not being able to stand up for yourself and being disabled to pursue happiness is a big issue. The issue just needs perspective, and this movie was a good one.

I highly recommend it.

Ready... Get Set... GO

Lost of work to do this week including:
1) Prepare for audition on Sunday
2) Get car fixed
3) Figure out Why Sonoma State is holding my transcripts
4) Design a website
5) Make the website work.
6) Clean my house
7) Figure out how to afford all the stuff I want.
8) Pray that my car isn't going to clean up shop
9) Clean my house
10) Do my laundry
11) Do my web design homework
12) Go to rehearsal
13) Go to the grocery store.
14) Learn songs for wedding
15) Go to the library to return books

I could have accomplished the majority of this on the weekend, but I decided that laying around all weekend with Pasha was much more important.

Can it be Sunday again?

A Trip to One of the Greatest Places on Earth...

Disneyland? No. Didn't go there.

Any tropical place in the world? Nope. Not yet at least.

Target you say? Yes. You are right. Target.

And like many of the greatest places on Earth, I have a very love hate type of relationship with Target. In my suburban days, I visited target every day. I knew the ins and outs of every single target within a 20 mile radius. I'd have a list of seven things I needed, and I'd briskley wipe out that list in ten minutes flat avoiding the seducing scent of stale butter popcorn. These thoughts of old plagued my mind because I decided it was a good idea to go to Target on my lunch hour.

I live in San Francisco.
The closest target is 20 min away. No problem! I'll be in there for 10 minutes.

On my drive there, I try and build up my Target confidence, as I try to actually visualize WHERE the fondue pot, fondue fluid and deodorant is located in the store. I need three things. Not a problem.

When I arrive in Target, I immediately charged the store like a race horse who just heard the go gunshot. Yet, I didn't act like a race horse at all... No, in fact, I acted like a sheep. "Bah Bah," said my brain, while I frantically meandered around the store begging for my eyes to find the "Kitchen Supply" sign.

HELLLLLLLOOOOOOO is it really supposed to be that hard?

So, lets find someone to ask. Um, does anyone work here? Great...
Not to worry, here is a phone.. I'll just get on the speaker phone and page one of the wor....oh, I'm sorry am I not allowed to touch that?

Just kidding. I didn't do that, but I did find a sales associate on the next isle down.

"Excuse me can you tell me where you keep your Fonude Pots?"

Blink. Blink.

I apparently did not know that I could speak German, but I can.

I repeat, "Kitchen electronics?" She shows me and says, "We don't have Fondue Pots," just as I notice the Chocolate Fondue Fountain and the ONE fancy smacy electronic fondue pot staring right at us. Riiiiiiigggght crazy sales lady...

This is it? You have got to be kidding me I said to my increasingly agitated self who noticed the clock said 12:36pm. That's ok. This is Suburbia... Target = Starbucks... there is another one just around the corner.

I get to the second Target in 4 minutes flat, and enter the parking lot battlefield. I think it's worse than driving in San Francisco. I park, and run into this store. I know where the kitchen section is in this Target because the last time I was here, Pasha spent two hours deciding which knife set to buy. TWO HOURS LOOKING AT KNIVES, so, I got real friendly with the kitchen section. I run over, and THERE IS NO FONDUE POTS! WHA? There was a worker right next to me, and I am running out of time. So, I asked her.
"Excuse me, where are the Fondue Pots?"

"Fondue Pot....is that like a...um, like this?" She shows me a slow cooker.

"Um, no...it's like a Fondue pot. You know, like chocolate fondue melts the chocolate. You dip things in it?"

"No. we don't have those."

I looked online and saw a cagillian, and I remember the last time I was here there was a whole ISLE of fondue pots. Maybe that was just the olden days?

I was not about to try again with another sales person, so, I decided to take it out on myself and not in my head mind you. I start talking out loud, angry arms included, to myself wishing that there was actually another person there to scold. Luckily, Ed saw me and decided that I was a damsel in distress.
He says,
"Those arms tell me that you are not finding what you're looking for?"

Really sir? What gave you that idea? Was it my deranged cry echoing in the store, as I ran up and down the isle screaming like a lunatic that caught your ear? Or was it the fact that I completely tackled your coworker to the ground taping pictures of fondue pots to her shirt and forehead?

I collected myself and responded, "I'm looking for a fondue pot."

Condescendingly he says, "Ok Miss, I'll do everything possible to make sure you walk out of here smiling."

Ugh, if you say one more cheesy thing like that, I'm going to throw my cart against this kitchen isle and jump up and down in the chaos while pulling my hair out....I must have said that out loud because he called for back up, and I had the only two workers in the store looking for a fondue pot for me. Well at least I was getting help, and together the three of us found one.

I walked towards to the check out store thinking... it took three people? Really?
Do I come off as someone that could potentially violate your safety? Inside I felt like a person that needed to be put into a stray jacket IMMEDIATELY, but people can sense that? I'm a nice girl. Really. I'm just having a stressful day. Ooo Halloween candy, I'll pick some up for the office. Already my nerves are getting put back in check.

As I was checking out, I noticed that the time was now 12:57pm... I needed to get out of there FAST, and the guy at the check out counter scans my bag of candy and puts it in my hand. WHA? I go to put it in the bag he's bagging and he says, "NO, it's open."
I'm instantaneously feeling livid again.
I thought, 1) I'm much older now... I trick or treated for many years, and my parents were good parents. I learned how to go through the candy with a fine tooth comb to make sure that none of the candy was open. Do I look like a moron?
and 2) YOU SCANNED THIS!~ So even if the candy was tainted by Target's workers or customers, you were still going to make me PAY FOR IT? Great to know that I'd have to pay for my own poison. Or maybe you were telling to get another one. Well, either way, the bag wasn't open.

So, I left Target feeling like a walking mental case that either needed a shot of alcohol or paxil, but I got my fondue pot.

You know San Francisco has taken over your life when...

You can no longer park on street curbs; you can only parallel park.

Your rent is higher than some mortgages.

You have forgotten how to use a dishwasher. So what, you accidentally put dish soap in the dishwasher and created a mountain high soap sud bath in the kitchen at your sister's house. That's right sister, you just keep believing that the dishwasher malfunctioned causing you to have a FULL clean out without any dishes.

You can no longer sleep with out the sirens, beeping horns and revving motorcycles.

It takes you one hour and forty five minutes to go 5 miles.

You make one wrong turn, and you're in a different country.

You make one wrong turn off an exit, and you're on the bay bridge.

You learn the importance of flipping a b*tch on a one way street.

When parking in a parking lot with out having to pay seems ludicrous.

Driving anywhere becomes a battle field, and you start to thank your lucky stars that you played Mario Cart as a child. Who said video games were good for nothing?

The smell of urine feels like home.

You look forward to a trip to Target.

The Struggle

And so laziness ensues as the free time amounts, and this entry is brought to you by a big ‘ole pigglie wigglie stuffed on taffy cookies and salami. Yummmmm!!!

So, instead of attacking my laundry list of items that include: painting my cupboard, hanging my pictures, working on my show pictures, organizing under my bed, putting together my web portfolio, do my laundry, figure out what I’m getting people for Christmas, book my Christmas plane ticket, working on a monologue, get some freelance work…etc., I have decided to try and figure out what I am going to do with my life.

Ha.
Yeah Right!

However, I’m feeling like my interests are stretched too thin these days, and for some society-motivated or no reason, I am trying to sort it all out. I go through these moods a lot as I seemingly race against the clock, but then the harsh slap of reality reminds me that I’m only 25, but I won’t be this “young” for the rest of my life. When I turn 70, am I still going to be saying that I’m only 70? These unrealistic and non existent timelines have been beaten into my brain one way or another, and I’m feeling suffocated in my own struggle to keep my head above water while maintaining happiness in my “youth”.

There is something in my life that always seems to be lacking, and I find myself more and more these days either wishing away time, or wondering why I didn’t use my time more efficiently in the past.

Now, I’m on this constant search to find my niche.- the career and life that I enjoy, where I’ll make a difference and where I’ll excel at. I find that most of the things I love to do, I really don’t have a competitive skill in.

I’m dabbling in a million different career areas, and I’m finding that my skill level for my age in any given subject is nowhere near par. Is this because I am spreading my self so thin that I am not allowing myself to really focus on a couple of things, and hone my craft long enough to sustain myself and my obsession with nice shoes?

Can a person be really good at multiple things in life that are on all parts of the brain?

When does the time come to realistically analyze your work, your craft, your talent, your skills and really be able to define your niche?

It could be worse, I know. I have a roof over my head, jobs, family that loves me and food on my table every day. (this is obviously true by the gut in my stomach growing larger and larger NOT due to pregnancy).

It’ll be fine. I’ll just keep on trucking, and doing what I love doing regardless. Something has to work out… it always does.

Brokenhearts

7:00 am came very early this dark and dreary Monday morning in October. How can a Monday compare to another weekend jam packed with fun filled events? It can’t.

I had been dreading Friday October 5th for quite sometime, but I am very pleased to report -it went off with out a hitch. Having an extremely friendly audience made up of mine and Gianni’s perspective friends, helped ease my nerves. Gianni started off with “Black Coffee”, which I followed with a rendition of Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile.” The sound system was very difficult to get used to. I could hear a metallic and brassy sound coming through the mic, so, I tried to compensate, and my sound became un-focused and breathy. This was quickly rectified when we sang “Two Lost Souls,” which I followed with Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.” Gianni’s rich baritone voice did justice to “Under appreciated,” and then the show-stopping moment for me was “I Know the Truth.” It was my favorite song to sing, and the crowd seemed to really enjoy it. Other crowd pleaser's included, “Don’t rain on my Parade”, “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Diamonds are Forever.” We ended the show with Destiny’s Child “Survivor,” which ended up being fun, although, I sounded shrill at times according to my bio chemist boyfriend.

I’m still coming down from the show. Although it was only one night, Gianni and I both put a lot of work into the production, and I am now only working on a Gala. It’s a lot to come down from, but I defiantly could use the break. I just don’t know what I am going to do with my time!

So sad.

October 14, 2005 my young beautiful nephew was born into the loving arms of Jackie and Douglas Joos in Tampa, FL.

October 28, 2005 Hanson was playing at the house of blues in St. Petersburg, FL.

Momentarily overcome with glee, I seized the opportunity to visit my adoring baby nephew, and go see Hanson perform in St. Petersburg.

This wham bam thank you mam type of visit I obviously rationalized with HANSON playing. :)

Then hurricane "I mess everything up" tacked St. Petersburg the same weekend, thus, Hanson canceled their show. I really don't CARE that we all might be standing out side in the pouring rain potentially being ran-sacked by the wind. I have seen March of the Penguins and I have seen Happy Feet. I fully believe that I could have gotten the entire group to emulate the dad penguins huddling together in the snow storms. If the penguins could do it, The Floridian fansons and I could do it.

The worst part is the Floridians weren't afraid of this hurricane Hanson, it had already passed by the time Saturday night came. PLUS, it wasn't even raining. Aren't you from Tulsa? Don't you get worse storms then these?

Alas, Hanson had no regard for my pleas, and proceeded to cancel their concert.

THEN they went on tour ONLY on the East Coast. WHA?

NOW THIS!!!!!!

Please get better Issac.
The Fillmore needs you!!

Another year...

How many people can say they have a friend that:

took you into their family’s house half way though your senior year in high-school because your family decided that Tampa, Florida would be much nicer than Mountain View, Ca?

stays up late every night eating ice cream and watching you try to watch tv?

still hangs out you even though you make fun of all her dogs?

watches your cat for you while you’re traveling?

let’s you sleep in the same bed because you’re having nightmares after watching the movie: A Beautiful Mind?

let’s you sleep in the same bed just because you don’t get to see her very much as it is…so you might as well be close always?

makes fun of the fact that you have been known to sing in your sleep?

helps you move. Every year. For the last 7 years?

convinces you that you can sing…even though you really can’t…but knows that someday you will because you love doing nothing else?

didn’t like you when they first met you?

takes you on family vacations?

knows you’re the good daughter?

helps you design?

goes to all your shows?

cleans up your room in “Heartbreak Hotel”?

lets you be crazy. All the time, but treats you like your normal. Most of the time?

get’s mad that you’re bringing a pie?

help’s you find your easter basket?

watches that’s so raven with you?

lets you laugh about events in the office over and over and over?

shows you funny math jokes?

lets you bug them all day long?

has every class with you, works on shows with you, lives with you and you’re still friends?

helps show you that you’re not small?

teaches you how to fold your laundry?

teaches you to fly a kite?

takes you on your first sailing trip ever – at Shoreline?

takes you everywhere because you didn’t get your license till you were 18?

takes you to the airport at least 4 times a year?

makes Christmas cookies with you?

helps you with neat “parent” day gifts?

goes with you to the dermatologist because you think you have chicken pox again…and really it’s just adult acne?

understand the fact that you get pink eye every year?

knows how to avoid being “a hater”?

makes you a colorful box to remind you that you are colorful and not a dark bleak box?

tries to protect you from your stalker. Your real stalker that has made you afraid of living your own life?

can put her entire “face” on in the car while driving down Foothill Expressway?

takes care of your zits – in your ear?

helps plan your birthday party, even though, the required equipment may include: pepper spray and a tazer?


I do, and it’s her birthday today. I gave her a card similar yesterday at her birthday dinner, but I figured the world must now how great she is!


Happy Birthday Ashley.

Double Show’s = Double Duty.

I’m not feeling particularly witty this fine fallish morning in San Francisco. Trying to do 8 shows in one year, while going to school part time, working full time, having friends and having a steady boyfriend, is proving to be mighty difficult, and my energy is slowly getting sucked out of me, but I won't feel that way for long. Sheer exhaustion takes over my brain from time to time, and I am starting to feel a little overwhelmed looking at my schedule that now has bathroom breaks incorporated. It won't be for an extended amount of time, since the shows will be closing, and my go-getter nature will prevail. Mom’s out there MUST be laughing, but I'm just tired today.

Yesterday afternoon, I spent 12pm – 2pm rehearsing the musical numbers for the “Brokenhearts Club” that is premiering on Friday October 5, 2007 at Octavia Lounge staring Gianni Michael Lyle and myself. For me, it has been a bumpy ride to the finish line, and I am looking forward to crossing it.

I’m a soprano, and I sing a lot of Rogers and Hammerstein. For this show, I am singing a lot of belting songs that I perhaps will not rock as well as say “Mister Snow,” but I am going to sing those songs in my own voice. I have to remember that anything done in life should be fun and fulfilling. Otherwise, why do it? I am never going to survive in this cut throat world if I refuse to embrace the essence of myself… I just have to find it. Am I really going to be searching forever?

Gianni and I have talked about singing together since we were little peons at Cushman and Wakefield. So, the actualization of this project has been quite an accomplishment for the two of us, and the end result has formed itself into an entertaining evening jam packed with the tale of our broken hearts, how we found each other and survived. For our audience, the show will inevitability be a "cute" entertaining evening of -oh-look-at-bev-and-gianni-singing. I am reminiscent of the ever so familiar dance recitals at age 5 with the family taking pictures, video, and ooing and awing for my sister and I picking the wedgie our perspective leotards caused in front of a packed theatre. GRRRREEEEAAAAT. For Gianni and I, it actually means so much more, and I hope our friends and family will get past the "cute" aspect and see it.

On top of rehearsing for the Cabaret show, we started rehearsals yesterday evening for the Gala. I was originally cast in a show called “Anatomy,” which due to unfortunate circumstances, I could not participate in. Instead, I will be partaking in the Gala for lamplighters. I love the lamplighters as a group. I think they are a lot of fun, and so far the beginning stage of this show entertains me. I look forward to the process, and the show coming together.

Update on Audition: I did end up going to the callback. It did not go as well as I had hoped, and I have not heard from them. It’s ok. You win some and loose most. Besides, it was an equity house. I feel lucky to even be called back… Compared to last year, this is a much better place to be in.

Love is in the Air in San Francisco

Monday’s are starting to feel like a time warp because of the incredible fun that happens over the weekend! This weekend out turned out to be no exception, but this week is going to be overloaded with rehearsal.

When Pasha and I first met, our third date was San Francisco’s love parade. The love parade is basically an outside rave with 25 different floats each playing a different type of electronic music, and they parade down Market Street till they get to the Civic Center. Once at the Civic Center, they park their floats all around for the entire day until their perspective “after-parties.”

Pasha LOVES drum and base. My just-stepped-off-the-gap-poster-never-done-a-single-“bad-boy”-type-
of-thing-or-even-smoked-a-cigerette boyfriend can dance ALL NIGHT LONG to drum and base. He LOVES it. I completely understand the correlation between Dave Matthews and Seal to drum and base? He’s cute with an eclectic taste in music.

My favorite band is Hanson.

So, the Love Parade has never quite been my “thing,” but I go for him because I love him, and because of the company, it turns out to be a good time. Plus, the event is starting to become nostalgic because we have gone together for three years in a row.

The first year we went with Liz danced all day, and then Liz and I went to the Green Day concert with Ashley.

The second year, I went with just Pasha and I ended up loosing my brand new camera in cab. (That sucked).

This year I went with just Pasha, and I remembered to bring my camera (in a purse this time), but I LEFT THE BATTERY OUT OF THE CAMERA. One of these days I am going to loose my head!

The weather was absolutely gorgeous. I could not get over how warm it was in San Francisco. For some reason, the love parade is always on a day with excellent weather. I also forgot how many *T.A.P.’s I was going to see. I think I was so awe struck with Pasha the first two years that I completely forgot how many T.A.P’s I was going to see. I mean REALLY! Of course, all of the naked men running around were over the age of 55, and although it might be attractive to some, I was really disgusted. I mean all the women running around looked like models in their 20’s. WHY couldn’t the competition be fair?! I couldn’t even find ONE dude that compared to the eye candy he was obviously trying to avoid by focusing solely on me. I appreciate him trying because it was hard for me to divert my eyes.

This was just one event in the fun-filled weekend that included The Office Season 3, Mac and Cheese, Film in the Fog showing Creature of the Blue Lagoon, Wine and cheese, Liverpoolils, Downtown shopping, and Dinner at Chevy’s for Ash’s birthday.

*Please email me for clarification of T.A.P’s