Starting Over...Again

Every few posts I seem to say, "I can't believe I haven't blogged in such a long time." Who wants to keep reading about that? It's boring, but what struck me as incredibly interesting and heartbreaking was this post: Crazy is Overwhelming I wrote that just over a year ago, and the heart breaking part of that story is that I have been fighting those exact same horrible feelings and issues for over a year now. Except it got worse. I'm on the upswing of things and "they" say it has to get worse before it can get better.

Let's start with the good shall we?

I'm engaged.

I've been so busy "dealing" with life - I forget to take a moment and just breathe in happiness. I moved out of my Harlem apartment in early February of 2010. While it was sad and very difficult to leave my roommate at the time, I had a new roommate - my fiance to be. It was a monumental step for me because I had not ever lived with a partner before. I'm 28 and always had roommates or I lived alone. The adjustment has not been seamless but worth it. We comfortably live on the west side right by a park in a very accessible and happening part of town. I couldn't be happier here.

He proposed to me on a very hot evening in July right in front of Lincoln Center dressed in a suit and miserably waiting for me for over an hour. :) It's truly a romantic story ending with champaign and dancing right by the fountain in front of Lincoln Center. This location is where we ended our first date and began the rest of our lives together. I'll save this post for another entry.

"My lonely, unsuccessful and depressed life in New York" is just now turning around. I still miss my CA friends so much. So so so so much. I spent most of this August celebrating my honorary sister's wedding and introducing my fiance to my life in California. The whirl-wind tour ended with a beautiful celebration of love: a gorgeous wedding. I cried for most of the flight back to NYC. The torturous absence of my daily interaction with my CA friends I described in my last years post still eats me alive. I still constantly wait for the next time I get to see them and my heart is pained knowing that the reasons to see them are few and far between. Their absence still brings tears to my eyes, but it is no longer destructive. I miss them, but we still keep in contact and we still see each other as much as possible. I have a stronger focus now which keeps my missingness less destructive.

My Weight.
A huge huge huge huge battle. Right before I left for California, I cried on the phone to the mother of the bride because I wasn't sure I was going to fit into the bridesmaid dress that I just tried on in June. I had packed all my winter clothes in May and for the wedding in August, I had to unpack them to take them to California because California has a much brisker climate than New York in the summertime. I tried on all my clothes and NOTHING fit. Last year nothing fit... I was forced to buy new clothes. This year nothing fits... I was forced to buy a diet book. No, seriously I was beyond frustrated because I HAD been working out. Not working. For me - it's the balance of what I'm eating and working out. In the past, I could eat whatever I wanted and just work out. This is not the case anymore. I have to eat right AND work out. I have the luxuary of having my own personal nutritionist. :) Ok, not really, but kinda. I have a friend that is studying to be a nutritionist and I am CONSTANTLY picking her brain apart probably to the point of irritation, but she's studying - she says she needs the practice. She also recommended this diet book to me called: "The Perfect 10"

This is the start of week 3 for me and the diet has indeed done wonders. I still have a way to go, but for the most part I'm watching unwanted rolls melt off my body. I'm no longer cringing away from the mirror, and I don't cry every time I have to get dressed in the morning. I'm still not in love with taking pictures, but I'm going to get there. This weight gain took 2 years to manifest itself. It's going to take a little longer than 3 weeks to completely get rid of it. Since moving to New York, I gained close to 30 pounds.

So, what am I eating in my diet?

For the first three weeks, no grains, no processed sugar, no alcohol and more fat. This was very very very difficult to do. I realize now just how bad the restaurant industry was for my self-esteem and my state of mind at the time. I was eating french fries twice and day and drinking every day of the week. I'm not saying that I blame my job nor am I saying that I wouldn't go back to waitressing. I'm saying that at the time I wasn't able to make good choices for myself and for my body because of my self esteem. It's not healthy and I didn't have the strength or the will to just say No. Giving up these foods has been by far the hardest things to do, and it's given me complete awareness! I didn't realize just how often I was drinking a bottle of wine in one sitting. That's a lot of calories. Eating more fat has also been a little bit hard to wrap my brain around considering that most of the mainstream diets this day and age still have not grasped the concept yet. Every protein or vegetable or fruit carbohydrate must be eaten with a little bit of fat. The fat helps the body break down the carbohydrates much faster according to this book. So, I'll eat eggs in the morning with avocado or a piece of cheese or I'll eat full fat yogurt with berries. Lunch I'll have a salad with only olive oil as the dressing or lemon juice as the dressing with a little bit of cheese in the salad. Dinner I'll have chicken pan fried in olive oil seasoned with salt and pepper and chili peppers or tomatoes or coconut with steamed raw or sauteed vegetable. You're not supposed to count calories, but I still taper them. I'll have a big breakfast smaller lunch and a smaller dinner. I've cut caffeine out as well for the most part. I'll drink a cup of decaf coffee with whole fat milk. No sugar. I allow myself one cup of green tea a day because of the antioxidants and the amount of caffeine is nothing compared to the 4 cups of coffee I used to drink. Right now I hold out my arm and it doesn't shake. Snacks include: veggies (no carrots and no beets), nuts, hummus, seeds, avocado. I usually only need snacks if I have worked out a lot that day or I'm up for more hours that usual. The fat keeps me fuller longer. After stage 1 the detox stage you can start bringing whole grains back into your diet. Not a lot, but you can bring it back depending on how much energy you expend. Alcohol and sweets can be brought back sparingly. Stage 3 you can start treating yourself to your occasional hamburger or fried french fries or pizza - it's NEVER good for you, but at least the body will be able to handle it. I plan to get a full physicals as soon as I'm done. I'll let you know how my arteries look, my cholesterol and my blood pressure all look.

Working out.
I tried Bikram Yoga. It was great but didn't work. I've gone back to school and I'm dancing 9 hours a week. It's going to whip my body into shape. I'm no longer concerned. I still try and workout 6 days a week. There are 3 days we don't work out in school. I try and do some type of cardio on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Then I talked about performing.
I was still floundering. I decided to do something about it. I applied to a professional program called Cap21. It's NYU's old program, but it's bigger, better and stronger than ever! I'm so glad that I took the leap of faith and plunged myself into this program. I quit my restaurant my job. I'm spending 40+ hours a week focusing only on acting, dancing and singing. I'm surrounded my people that are in the same place that I am regarding performing. This is going to plunge me into the New York scene and I'm so grateful for it. I seriously can't wait to just live. I'll break down my experience in the program a little more, but this post is already getting too long.

I'm taking control of my life. I'm only sorry that it took me so long to do it.

Time Flies

Remember when I wrote this?

I re-read it this morning, and balled my eyes out. It's been a year already with so much change, and the daunting feeling of knowing that separation is coming looms over me, but more than anything.... I think... well, let's start here:

The past few years have been extremely difficult for me as I try to figure out my controlling relations, trying to find my squashed voice while balancing an appropriate amount of compassion to my own imperfections. It's been excruciatingly tough for me, and my family has gotten the brunt of it. Especially, her, and she is family.

I hope she knows how much I appreciate her in my life, and how lucky I am to have such an amazing person that would drop everything just to give me a hug. I know she hears what I don't say, and offers guidance in the midst of my confusion. I'm not exactly sure what I'll do without her immediate company after I move. So know that I am so grateful, and love her dearly.

Let's Have Dinner Tomorrow

On Thursday, I said, "I got a job! Let's celebrate and drink a bottle of wine tomorrow."

Response: "Great! I'll call you tomorrow."

Thanks to freedictionary.com, I discovered the actual definition of tomorrow is: the day after today. I thought I better second check myself because when you didn't call for the ENTIRE day of Friday, I started to worry that, perhaps, I don't know what tomorrow means. Perhaps, we were speaking a different language and you didn't understand what tomorrow actually entails. I started to wonder, if perhaps, in some cultures tomorrow actually is within a 48 hour period and not 24 hours because in that case, you would be ok, and the fact I seriously stared at my computer screen for 16 hours waiting for your effing phone call would be on me. Please don't think that I was not an active participant in trying to get a hold of you. I called you every fifteen minutes since 5pm on Friday afternoon. Each time I called I thought, "someone is dying right now from a drunk driving accident."

I took a break from computer and wall staring to go to sleep, and OH THEN YOU CALL....at 1am. Technically speaking, that is not tomorrow. 1am on Saturday morning is not the day after today considering we spoke on Thursday.

Something that actually gets me is the fact I instantly felt anger about your no show. I didn't worry that you weren't safe, that maybe you had a car accident, or maybe you were in the hospital. Oh no, I KNEW instantly that you were either sitting at home screening my phone calls or out with other friends. Nevermind, knowing this is my last weekend in San Francisco, and I turned away my other friends who wanted to hang out because I wanted to hang out with you.

The other thing that really gets me. Actually, it eats me alive like a effing parasite in my heart, it's that I put up with it. I have taught you that it's ok to treat me like this. It's ok that you are not doing what you said you were going to do. It's ok that you say you're going to call and then you don't. Don't get me wrong, you're an idiot, but the truth is: I'm the bigger one.

Start Spreading The News...

Sitting at the gate at SFO the tears are streaming down my face as I sit here acting as if I’m moving today. Over the past few days my thoughts have been filled with nothing but joy and warmth as if my own personal world here in San Francisco was coming with me on this trip to NYC. Choking on my excitement before and now I sit here feeling completely lost. I’m totally supported and incredibly loved, but yet, I feel alone. I feel isolated. I feel like I’m boarding this plane, and leaving San Francisco, my home and my life behind. It’s just a couple of days. Just a couple of days. I need to remind myself of it. It’s just a couple of days, but a couple of days that I wanted.

My feelings are getting in the way, and I’m loosing site of why I really am going to New York this weekend. I’m auditioning for a broadway show! Ha…. Wow, lets look at that again.

I’m auditioning for a Broadway show.

I’m still in utter silent shock. I can’t believe that I would attempt to accomplish this. I must be crazy!

I’m tired. My brain needs a rest, and tomorrow will be so amazing in everyway.

You, Me... Wait a Minute... Just a Minute

I sit down to write, but I can only think about...

I pick up a book and decide to read for this book club I have decided to join. The book is all about women hopelessly devoted and in love with the wrong men. Not saying that I am personally relating to these women, but I’m just saying that love is on my brain.

So, I decide to listen to some musicals to get some inspiration. First song:
“LoveLoveLove. It makes you do the things that otherwise would never dare to do. No not until a certain special someone says I care for you.”

Please. Can we talk about anything else except THAT?
No?
Let’s take a walk then - look for a clinic that helps with these type of things, but let's avoid ducking behind buildings this time ok?

Two Funerals and a Sad Heart

“Chicken or Fish,” the stewardess turns to me and says.

“Chicken,” I eagerly reply.

Simple enough choice I’ve had to make many times over in my flying experiences in life because a) who on EARTH would ever dare decide to eat the fish and b) what are the simple-sited consequences? I mean, sure, you COULD get food poisoning, but you could also get hit by a car when you step outside your front door. Let’s not get all type-a super neurotic here and let’s just stick to the point. It’s a choice - an easy choice.

Some choices have not been so simple to make:
Should I move to FL with my family or stay and finish high school in the bay area?
What college should I go to?
Should I move to NYC?
Love him or leave him?
How do I move out?

These choices I tend to agonize over for months and months causing my friends to put in earplugs as I drone on and on relentlessly about these doesn’t-have-to-be-painful subjects. Yet, never have I ever been faced with: which funeral should I go to?

Until this week.

Unluckily or luckily, depending on your view, I am very late in life to experience evoking contemplation on the volatile state of life. My first funeral and I might have to go to two in one day? I might have to go to two funerals in one day ALONE? Turns out that both funerals conflicted, and I chose to go to the funeral of my fellow actor and friend John.

Rushing to Oakland at 6:15pm is quite the oxymoron when in fact I crawled as slow as I possibly could to Oakland, to the funeral service. At one point, I realized I could probably run there faster. So, I got out of my car and started sprinting across the Bay Bridge. Then I opened my eyes and realized it was my turn to finally merge on. Many points in the day, I contemplated flaking on the service by rationalizing the hell out of my fear. “We were only in one show together.” “There will be lots of people there.” “I shouldn’t go if I can’t handle it.” I had never gone to a funeral, and I’m going completely alone. A usual basket case, I welcomed the “I’m going to be late” sentiments to fill the hollow and numb feeling engrossing my state of being, except, being late only extenuated my aloneness.

Speeding, rushing, cutting every corner, I lurked the area for parking. Of course no space is going to be available. I mean REALLY? I rolled down my window, and in sweet solemn desperation I say, “Do you know where I can find parking for the service?” One shiny tear trickles down my face and he says, “You can park right here behind the Hearst.” Fine, you’re right - I didn’t have the perfect tear, but I did have the rock star parking spot saving me 60 seconds. I darted into the church and filed into the very last pew realizing that I had to sit through a catholic mass. In normal circumstances, this would have been fine as I have sat through many a catholic service, but I had to go to the bathroom. I had to go to the bathroom an hour ago, but I was rushing that I just held it. Now, I’m bursting. F**k. Wait, can I think that in a church?

I waited until the blessing of the bread and wine, and made a dash for the restroom. Whew! Perfect timing except for the part of me body slamming myself back into the church when it’s dead silent during prayer – Awesome Beverley.

The service was incredibly touching, and I felt extremely moved seeing the amount of people that John had personally touched. At one point, the priest asked everyone he had ever sung with in a show to come up and sing “What I did for Love” This little corner by the piano filled with people like sardines in a can, and I knew that some others did not come up. In addition, the church filled the pews with people supporting the grieving loved ones.

It was so comforting to be around my ACLO family, and to see people that I have not seen in so long. How I have missed their company, but I’m contemplating now why we wait for tragic events to bring us together. In addition, I was overwhelmed by how many people John meant to, but was he aware of how many people he touched? Are funerals more important to have before the passing of a loved one?

Yes, yes, I’m just regurgitating the “usual” questions we ask ourselves when jarring events occur, but why do we as humans always get so sidetracked?

Get Well Soon.

What a week, and it’s only Tuesday.

Misery loves company, and I’m telling you I have been surrounded by tragedy over the past couple of weeks. The Universe is asking me to evaluate my life and reminding me that time is of the essence. Every second counts.

A dear friend recently had an accident that landed him in the hospital for quite sometime, and I feel… I feel… I don’t know how I feel. I think that is my answer to everything these days. I don’t know how I feel just mostly numb. My friend and I were super close for about 2 years. Then without a warning, we slowly but surly drifted apart, and now he’s in the hospital, and I’m not sure how to react. We had recently seen each other a couple of times, and we were defiantly on the way to patching things up, but now this. I’ve acted the only way I know how, which is to be there for him every second that I have, but I just realized just how far I am out of his life. It makes me sad, but I’m still there. I’m still going to the hospital everyday, but he did say yesterday that it gets a little overwhelming because people are there all the time. I don’t want to feel in the way, but I am in the way. I feel like I’m irritating, but I just care. So I’m confused, and feeling messy.

The tragedy does not end. A friend and fellow actor, John Stenger, passed away on Sunday from a massive heart attack. He played the King in Cinderella and was currently rehearsing for ACLO’s production of Grease. It was a complete shock to the ACLO family, and all I can do is stand by and watch my theatre family weep for such an unexpected loss. I JUST saw him on opening night of WSS. I’m glad that I spent the majority of my time catching up with him and chatting to him on the walk over to the gala because it had been almost a year since I had seen him last. November of 2007 was the last time I saw him before WSS. I’m shocked and I’m sad, but mostly I’m shocked.

My friends all around me are grieving, and I’m feeling cranky. Cranky, irritable and grouchy. Is this my way of dealing with all this sadness? All this – well this is part of life?

Star Struck

I have met Hanson twice in my life, and I utterly become a complete embarrassment to human kind.

Once, I drove to Reno from Santa Rosa with a girl I had just met to go to this special concert where you could attend a press release and then get their autograph. This was an event that I thoroughly spent a month preparing. I made them each scarves, and the bag had to be perfect in which I presented the scarves. I also had to have the perfect outfit – an outfit that I was only going to wear once. Turns out I only did wear it once because it got taken when my laundry was stolen. Anyway, I spent weeks preparing for what I was going to say when I shook their hands, and I wanted to make sure that I was not going to act all star stuck and I was going to be NORMAL d –it.

Well, no, that didn’t happen. I shook their hands and I stared at them. I would start to curse myself for blinking, and then I tried to say something funny. Ok, let me rephrase, I tried to say SOMETHING. ANYHTING. I mean I could have said… Hey I love your music. I could have said anything. Nope, I just stared and answered the question, “Hi, what’s your name?” Did I say anything remotely close to I-have-loved-you-since-the-beginning-of-time-and – I-can’t-live-without-you? Nope. Not even close. I’m glad I got my name out, but now I wonder if perhaps I should have used a pseudo name because now I will forever be the girl that stare drooled.

This was a few years ago, so, I figured when the chance came again I would be a little less “star struck”

Yeah, no.

November 2007 they did this “walk” where they walked a mile before the show with people who wanted to join them. So, I decided to go thinking that I would never see them, but at least I would be apart of the event. Oh I was wrong. I didn’t even get time to PREPARE. I got to walk right next to them as if I we were walking together just us. RIGHT NEXT TO THEM.

Did I say anything?
Not even hello.

I even got pushed into Issac, the eldest, and did I say ANYTHING?
Not even hello.

He asked me if I was ok, I nodded. I nodded? Nodded?!?!?!??! I couldn’t say, “hey, yeah sure I’m cool.” No, I become a basket case.

I was SURE that this only applied to Hanson, but alas, I am mistaking! There is another person in the world that makes me act like a complete embarrassment to human kind. Why? I’m not sure, but help me get passed it because this ducking behind corners to avoid you is not working for me.

Love

My friends and family,

I am so blessed to be so loved, and thank you so much for sharing my special day with me.

Thank you Thank you!

I'm sleeping and standing at the same time.

... and it's July 1st and we are opening in 11 days.

Some days I think, oh it's going to be fab. Other days I want to hide under the table and pray pray pray pray that when I open my mouth the right notes will come out of my mouth. I don't care if it's the right words. Just please please please may it be the right notes. Please. I will do anything!!!! It would be a special bonus if the notes actually sounded GOOD. We are running the show again tonight, but we are doing it without Anita. It threw me off the last time we did it, but this time - I'm ready to be focused.

In other news, today is my last day as a 25 year old. I'm having mixed feelings about it, I'm getting older and going through so much in my life. I want the time to pass, but I also want it to stand still. This time, though, I'm feeling pretty damn loved.

You wore your suit...

...and I flocked like a bee to honey.

I'm here, and I've been writing. I've been writing one of those letters. You know, the letters that you sit and spend WEEKS writing and perfecting to describe exactly how you're feeling; then you never send it.

Here's the opening paragraph to one of mine:

As the days pass by, it has become painfully obvious that my words will never reach your ears, but these emotions that have infected my heart, body and soul and must come out in one fashion or another. That lurking eminent feeling of loss looms over me and fills me with dread. Yet, for the first time, in a long time, wrong or right, risking or not, sad, elated, scared and excited, I just plain don’t care. This is who I am. This is how I feel and I'm going to tell you about it.

aaaaand scene.

These letters can be extremely therapeutic for a young dramatic lady spending her days reflecting tenaciously on her current state of mind. I started writing this letter in a very different place. I had the hopes to actually give this letter a home, but then it happened. I felt it in the pit of my stomach and I could not control it. Up, up, up it came and out went the word vomit. That disgusting, nauseating and vile-should-be-kept-to-yourself words dripping with all this feeling came out, and I was done. Now three single spaced typed pages later, I lay at the bottom of the bathroom floor dry heaving words. Type. Type. Type. delete - delete - delete - delete - delete. (sigh)

Regardless, is it really safe to be actually inking these type of things?

It's that constant debate. What's too private for the Internet? Should you really be writing it in your journal? If you write one of those letters then should you burn it later?

It's pretty hard for me to edit myself when I'm puking up words, so, I use my journal or write those letters and then stick it in my journal. I have a few safe people on journal burning duty if anything were to happen to me. Yet, I'm still not convinced that my words will never be unread, but should I care if I'm dead? - That's how I rationalize it. I won't care. I'll be dead.

So in the meantime, it all comes out to help organize the emotional roller coaster I take myself on, and if anyone were to read it, I would say: It's your own fault! I didn't open the journal and say please read this.

What's Your Heroine?

I watched the movie “The Basketball Diaries” last night and still almost 24 hours later I have this nauseating feeling eating at me slowly as the images of a beaten Leonardo Dicapro replay over and over behind my eyelids, and the sound of “It hurts. It hurts,” ringing loudly in my ears.

Still, even writing about it makes me feel sick to my stomach, and it probably wasn’t the best time in my life to be watching it. After the movie, he said, “See. We have no problems.” While some people watch those movies, they let themselves feel better about their concerns mulling over in their mind, I do not. I tend to start asking the questions, “What’s my heroine?” Don’t get me wrong. I by no means can even begin to understand the struggle of someone who is fighting that type of an addiction. I by no means mean to come off saying, “Oh you’re a heroine addict? That’s nothing, listen to my relationship problems.” That’s not what I’m saying at all.

Instead of letting the movie give me perspective, I start thinking about all the negative forces in my life that I let consume my everyday life, and at what cost? How far am I willing to go, and most importantly, what is it going to take to get out? I think that glaring black and white moment is going to come, and I’ll know exactly what to do because the universal “they” knows how to handle bad situations and the solutions have been there all along with sayings including: “say no to drugs,” or “If your husband beats you, leave him.” “education is important.” Then the grey comes along and I think: just one more time because it’ll never happen to me. Then the one more time never comes, and the battle of the misery commences; the misery I created and continue to allow. Then the suffocating thoughts of “maybe I’m wrong” “this is where I want to be” “I’m not the only one” surround me, and the sea of doubt drifts away with me standing on the shore thinking – “I’m ok. This is my choice. I just need 5 dollars maybe 20.”

The Battered Wife

I never understood the battered wife syndrome because it seemed pretty simple.

He hits you.
You leave him.
The end.

But it's never that easy.

So, he doesn't hit you. Yet, one day you wake up and your self worth and self respect is in the toilet because you refuse to demand better, and you think your expecations are too high. He says, "I can't make you feel anything. You choose your own feelings." He says, "You can't depend on me for your own happiness." You think your expectations are too high, and that he's right. Maybe one day he'll want to marry you. Afteral, you are only 25 and you have plenty of time. Then you realize you want to travel, but he says, "I've already been to all the places you want to go. You should travel on your own."

He's right.
So you change your wants.

You try to call him out on all the things that that are making you so unhappy, but you have to make sure that it's on a Saturday morning so that his brain can focus because if you bring it up when he doesn't want to talk about it he'll just ignore you. Then you discover, it's your fault you feel so horrible. The next thing you know you're looking at a post-it with two suggestions on how to improve your issues.

Then you look around and see all the successful thriving relationships and you think wait what? He calls you everyday? You mean, he doesn't need personal time every weekend? All of a sudden you're struck with envy and this desperate desire to love and be loved in return, but you can't let go. You can't let go because he needs you, he has potential or because he's trying, but the truth is that your self-esteem is nowhere to be found, and everything is your own fault.

But what about that delicate balance?
What if you're wrong? What if he really is so great, but you're doomed by unrealistic expectations and you end up loosing the greatest love you have ever known because you failed to see the positive and only the negative.

But what if you're right?

Please take care. There is this unwritten social subtext that says be humble, but humility can not take place of self-love.

How I'm trying to demand what I deserve because I have to believe that there is someone out there that will not ask me to compromise myself, and help to bring out the best in me. It has to exists and if by chance it doesn't, then self-love is better than the absence of love.

Ha

Can I borrow a cup of rat posion?

So, I’ve been making nice with the neighbors, and the other day I got this love note on my door. I wanted to share it with you.

Dear Beverley,

It's come to the attention of some of us tenants that you have another person staying with you. I don’t know how true it is but be aware that the Louies’ charge extra rent for each person staying that’s not on the lease. Either contact the Louies & let them know or have your friend stay elsewhere.

Do you want to have your apartment taken away from you just over that? Better do something soon if that person is planning to stay… maybe even, ask that person to be quieter as I assume you are.

- A Helpful Neighbor.




Dear Helpful Neighbor,

Well if my you mean House, then yes, I do have someone staying at my apartment. Is it my fault that the traffic is so loud it causes my apartment to shake when a car drives by, thus, the TV must be loud enough for me to be hear it? Plus, I can’t help it that I’m a little deafer than others. You act like I’m watching TV at 1am…. I don’t write you love notes for walking in your heels at 6am in the morning, and go to bed at 8pm. I know it’s you, and I know it’s about my TV because you’ve knocked on my door twice in the past month to turn my TV down at 9pm. I politely complied twice, but then realized it was NINE! Now you’re resulting to love notes that don’t make any sense. Awesome.

First of all, are we in college? Do we live in dorms, and you are good friends with my roommates? If so, I don’t recall getting a welcome package from our RA/CSA, and I really think you should have a one on one because this type of communication is not exactly productive.

Second of all, is this supposed to be threatening? I mean, I don’t want to judge, but this was the best you could come up with?! Have you reviewed my lease? Man, I WISH I had another person on my lease. I wish I could hear your conversation with the landlord. “Beverley has someone staying at her place.” “Yeah, I know. He lives there.” Actually, my landlord would probably say, “Who’s Beverley.”

Anyway, can you please think of something better to threaten me with, or maybe you can address me like an adult?

Cheers,
Beverley

P.S. I'm throwing a big NEW YEARS eve party, did you want to come? If not, can we use your apartment for our guests?

I swear, I think I went back in time this week.

Who loves to hang out with your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s nephew’s ex-wife who thinks they know everything about your boyfriend?

Oh, I do.

I LOVE it.

PLEASE tell me exactly how Pasha feels and thinks because I have NO IDEA. Oh, and please tell me all about his ex-girlfriend. I LOVE to hear about how awesome she is, and how I'm so not the right person for him. I especially love the lectures on how I should accept Pasha for who he is. You really shed light on that for me, and I feel so much better now that I know exactly how to handle him. I mean who cares about the fact I have been with him day in and day out over the past two years. Thank you so much for telling me how Pasha is such a wonderful guy because really, I must have missed that.

Let's get together soon, oooo, maybe we can get coffee and chat more, and after we can go back to your place, and share recipes? :) Can't wait. Call me.

Emergency - quick, get this girl some Aspirin!

In my college career, I had three trips to the emergency room.

The first trip to the ER (I'll spare you the gross details) was on account of my gynecologist in my young adult life. He could not even fathom the fact that I, Beverley, would have sex before marriage. Not to mention the fact that I had a guy gynecologist! I had been seeing him for over 3 years, and on my last visit, he learned about the atrocious activities I had partook in.---so not the reason I was there, could we please focus dr! We spent the rest of the visit in awkward and uncomfortable silence, and the antibiotics that he subscribed killed the WRONG bacteria causing me to land in the ER. Not a pleasant experience.

The second trip was right after a New Year. The Christmas before I decided to put a second pierced hole in my ear. Totally normal right? I mean.. I pierced my ear for goodness sake.... Anyway, by January my left ear had gotten so infected and swollen, it decided to eat my earing. My ear actually absorbed the top of my earing, leaving a red and crusty top for me to see. I couldn't get the earing out, but the massive amount of pain surging through my body said, "GET THIS THING OUT." Thus, another trip to the ER. When I got there, she looked at my ear and tried to pull the earing out through the BACK. OMG! That hurt so bad! Screaming for my life, she decided to put me on laughing gas, and my friend had to sho the children that were gathering at the door. Nevertheless, the earing finally came out, and I now have a pretty little bump scar always to remind me of this experience.

The third and most eventful trip happened right after I dropped myself and hit my head on the pavement. Ok, no, but I landed in the ER on account of my own stupidity. I was in full swing rehearsals for The Fantasticks, and in one of the songs, I got picked up and thrown over the shoulder. On the night we rehearsed that scene, my back started to hurt. The next morning, and for a week after, my back was in pain. Anyway, one Saturday, it hurt sososoos bad I asked my boyfriend at the time to purchase some pain medication for me. He brought back BAYER. This specific pain medication I had never seen before, and instead of reading the contents, I treated it like Ibuprofen. So, I got the bottle. I popped four of those little suckers into my mouth, and proceeded to do so...every four hours. So, around I don't know, dinner time.. I started getting this excruciating ringing in my ears. So, I popped two Excedrin. Well, Bayer is Aspirin. One Pill is 500ml of Aspirin. Excedrin is also Aspirin. So, by dinner time I started to feel the repercussion of overdosing. Yet, I didn't know it.

My oh-so-not-wonderful boyfriend planned a very romantic evening including dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant, and then watching movies and cuddling on the couch. All great ideas except 1) he didn't have a car, so, I had to do all the driving around, and 2) I was starting to feel worse and worse. On the way to the restaurant, I said to him, "Hey, I don't think we should go out tonight, I am starting to really not feel well." He got mad, and started accusing me of trying to ruin the wonderful night he planned, and damnit I am obviously trying to sabotage this relationship, and this MUST be a result of the time seven months ago when I....alright, alright...shut it. I rallied, and went to the damn restaurant.

While eating, the ringing got louder, I started seeing black spots and I began to feel less control over my muscles. In no condition to drive, I turned to him and said please drive I can't. The whole way home I heard mouthfuls of how terrible I make everything, but I was fighting for consciousness. We parked and I said, "Take me to the hospital." Sure, I could have said, "Please, would you mind using my car to take me to the hospital?" I'm lucky I got any words out at all! He said something to the effect of -oh no, you don't need to go to the hospital. you are just being dramatic, you are fine, and I bet your back doesn't even hurt, why don't you just go inside and rest a little bit. you'll feel better in the morning, but I can't believe we didn't go and get the movie! I am just going to go and pick something out. Fine.

I got into the house and laid down, and it just was downhill from there. My heart raced at an abnormal speed, the ringing made me deaf and I could barely move my muscles. It was official. I was on crack. Freaked out, I called friends that lived over 45 min away, and begged them to come and take me to the hospital. My begging came in fits of hysterical screams because I was crying, and I couldn't hear cause of the ringing. (This was due to the caffeine apparently. I've been nervous to drink too much coffee ever since.) Anyway, my friends called my boyfriend, and basically told him to stop being such a baby - and get back to get me to the hospital. He did with a bruised ego that got taken out on me, but at this point, I was cracked out. So, trying to talk to me rationally did not work, and infuriated him. When we got to the hospital, My heart rate was 190. They made me drink charcoal to cause me to puke. However, I had digested the Aspirin, so, it was already in my blood stream. Then I had to stay there for a while to make sure that I did not have to go to toxic control center to get my stomach pumped. I didn't have to, but man that charcoal was DISGUSTING. The doctor made the mistake of saying to us that I had digested most of the Aspirin, and I have puked out any of the remaining undigested poison, so, all I can do now is go home and sleep it off. I had a painful sleep, and I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover ever. Then a day filled with you're so terrible, and you didn't even have to go to the hospital, but I was nice enough to drive you, and I can't believe you're not kissing the ground I walk on.

Never a dull moment in the ER, but one of these times happened on April 10th. I move out of my dorm in May, lived with my honorary family for the summer and then to a new dorm in August. In addition to all my moving around, my parents moved at least 4 times too. So, does it shock you that I did not receive my bill? Does it also shock you that I was a naive 18-21 year old little girl who did not think that there were bills floating around not taken care of? (If so, please re-read the Aspirin trip to the ER.) OH! Is it also shocking that after the first facilities collection notice came two years later, that I didn't think oh, perhaps there is a DOCTORS bill floating around?

That's right, I didn't. So yesterday, when I got my collections notice for an outstanding doctor's bill from the same event that I got my LAST collection from came as bit of a shock. Especially since, I have been living on my own now for quite some time, and I am much wiser now. Now, I have to go through a million hoops to get my credit taken care of because now I have TWO collection dings caused by ONE visit to the doctor, and I had NO IDEA that I had any outstanding bills.

I'm mildly irritated.

Stress

For some reason, I can not find a happy medium with my time management. I'm either bored out of my mind, or I'm a frantic can't stop to drink water type of busy. Is there anyone out there that just says, "Ah, I worked very hard for X amount of hours, and now I can spend the rest of my stress-free mind hanging out with the swarming amount of people that can never be disappointed? Instead, I fear the fatal look of disappointment, and I say YES to EVERYTHING. It has gotten me into so much trouble..especially because "I don't want to" isn't a good excuse. I am positive that if I say, " I don't want to," I'm signing my death certificate.
It is very stressful, and my life feels very controlled.

So, I need to ask you... if you a friend asks you to hang out, but you don't want to, and you don't want to hurt their feelings. WHAT DO YOU SAY? My friend says, "hey, let's go wine tasting," and huge amounts of stress and pressure ensues.

Speaking of Stress, I need to re-focus my attentions on work right now, but answer me
this. How do you say NO, and not hurt people's feelings?

Monday Madness

Good morning Monday Madness...

So, it's November 5th, and I have been looking forward to this day since... well, it's been a very long time...let's just say that. Last night I could hardly contain my excitement, and I laid my head on the pillow like I was a six year old girl waiting for Christmas. I even got to work at 7:30am this morning in hopes to expedite the hours in the day. Let's see...it's been 30 minutes, and not going much faster. Eh, wishful thinking.

Yesterday Pash and I got to spend some quality time together, which was helpful and fun. I'm starting to feel better about things, and I'm hopeful. He asked me to write out my needs and wants for him, and we talked about what it takes to have a successful relationship. I am a little tired of heavy conversations, and I find myself surrounded by them. Whatever happens, I am going to fine. For now, I am hopeful that things are going to work out for the best. Relationships take compromise and effort. So, that's where I'm at with Pash.... I want to put in the effort, and I'm hopeful.

It's hard for me to focus because I am only thinking about Hanson.
Let's talk tomorrow.

Wedding Land

One of Pasha's dear couple friends are getting married....to eachother.
Oh friends, it gets tricky here....

I have been hanging out with these friends for TWO YEARS! That is a long time to spend time with people, and so they asked me to sing in their wedding, which is tomorrow. YAY! It is such an honor and a privilege to be part of such a fantastic wedding for two truly amazing people. The trouble is that they are originally Pasha's friends. Thus, it got a little awkward when I had to be there for the rehearsal yesterday, and I got invited to the rehearsal dinner. "Hey honey, do you want to be my date to your friend's rehearsal dinner?" um, yeah, so, it didn't bode well with him. Especially at the end of the night when he turns to me and says, "Thanks for coming with me." Actually Pasha, you came with me!

Also, Pash and I haven't spent any quality bonding time with each other since our whole fall out. Things feel super strained, and he is more in love with his schedule right now. It's terrible to miss someone who is sitting right next to you in the car.

I asked him to go for a run with me this morning because he is always on me about running with him. I thought, if I wanted to spend anytime with him, then I should do it on his terms. Well, then everyone decided that they all wanted to go jogging this morning, and I sort of got left in the dust. He says, "Why don't you come with us?" WHY? HAVE YOU SEEN THESE PEOPLE? They run all day...everyday. Ok, no...they are very physically fit, and just the other day I watched a pregnant lady with a stroller pass me. Doesn't he understand how humiliating it would be for to watch his friends start walking next to me, while I'm jogging? He says, "Everyone adjusts to the slowest person." Easy for him to say, when he's never been the slowest person. Sure, my issue. my mental block, whatever. I get it, but couldn't he have had a little compassion?

I left his place this morning, and he calls me and says, "One of the girls was only going to go because you were going, and now you're not." Yes, but he didn't mention that this particular girl also came in THIRD place in her division for the bridge to bridge run. Look, I just don't want to be an embarrassment in front of his friends. I already feel like I'm getting put on the spot with the singing. So, now it's 10am on Saturday, and the wedding starts at 4pm. Looks like I'll be sending another Saturday alone.

I'm always alone, and I'm starting to hate it.