For all of you who were worried...

...I'm no longer sleeping on an air mattress. Let the cheering begin. 

So here are some pics of the room as it now looks. Note: this might be boring for anyone other than immediate family, but indulge me please. 

And For those who don't know me really well, know this: this girl loves her bed--reading, sleeping, napping, oh my!

For a while there (okay, okay a brief day) the bed was in danger of looking like a hospital bed--twin bed, all white, think about it. And then Target came to my rescue. Love, love, love me some Target. A few pillows and a deliciously, comfortable throw (despite the fact that it hoards static electricity in its folds) make all the difference.

Please note the bins up top. You gotta get creative when it comes to storage in this city. Eventually I'll find a ladder so I can space them out evenly...

Four Simple Rules

If I were to write a how-to book on overcoming depression, it would boil down to four simple rules.

1. eat well (eat what you like, when you like, with a focus on nourishing the body)

2. get on a regular sleep schedule (go to bed at a reasonable hour and get up at a reasonable hour--preferably around the same time each morning and evening)

3. exercise (not for vanity's sake, but because the body likes it, craves it, desires to move and dance and jump around--the body wants to be challenged)

4. and finally...always have a good book to read

Tonight, after an absolutely lovely dinner with my oh-so-generous aunt and uncle, at what's quickly becoming one of my favorite Upper West Side haunts, good enough to eat, I found myself with nothing to do.

see I'll surprise you all with a picture every once in a while, when you least expect it

Saturday night in Manhattan, the world was my oyster, anything was possible. Or was it? I've recently come to the realization that all my gal pals are in committed relationships. This means no single strumpets to dance the night away with in search of that oh-so-perfect--he's-the-one male to bring home to mom and dad. What's a girl to do? Hit up the bars by myself? I don't think so. I have pride enough to know when to hide away in my oh-it-needs-to-be-cleaned New York apartment. 

I weighed my options. I could...watch this week's Grey's Anatomy a second time, since the show is finally getting good again, and now I get to drool (quite unexpectedly mind you) over Christina's new love interest, Dr. Owen Hunt. Tangent alert: I used to think the most important thing on my love list (you know, the list where you enumerate the qualities of your perfect mate so that the universe can then bring him to you) was that he made me laugh and could laugh at himself. I now think this is a very close second to... manliness--I know, I know, manliness, what is that? I don't know how to describe it, but you know it when you see it, and you most certainly can feel it. I don't have time or patience any more to mess around with boys. Oh gosh, got way off topic there for a second...so I could watch Grey's, or hit up a movie. No, no, neither of those options was quite right. And then it hit me. Yes. I would got to Barnes and Noble and get the first book in the Twilight series. It was my turn to succumb to the teeth of a vampire. 

I got there, asked the sales associate where I might find said book and he pointed me towards the teen section--oh wait...no, no, teen section? A mighty blow. I was nothing, if not past the teen years. Right? Okay, so maybe I was just slightly embarrassed because this request in conjunction with the enormous black bow that was now pinning back my bangs  knocked me down a few pegs. But a good book is a good book and nothing to be ashamed of. So after a moment of lowering my reddened cheeks, I marched proudly to the teen section and in doing so honored that part of me that will always be the seventeen-year-old who spent her weekends curled up with the best company a girl can hope for (apart from Dr. Hunt)--a good book.

Life in New York can be hard. All the time.  Every day. And being twenty-three ain't no slice of pie. In fact, I think it might be harder than those storied teenage years. So a million times a day, I am forced to remind myself that this too shall pass. And a million times a day I am forced to make the active choice to pursue happiness.

This is all to say that, that choice is always easier when you're well rested with something to read and friends to share a lovely and indulgent meal with. Now, if I could only find my way to the gym.

Time for a few musings...

So yesterday I was talking with my glorious friend Viv (shout out!). No, but seriously--she's so great, so gorgeous. She's one of those people that walks into a room and just seems to float or bounce, I'm not sure which--it's one of those things that you can't even put a name to because its just that fantastic. Tangents be damned, what I'm trying to say is that I love having her in my life because she's a marvel--beautiful, talented beyond measure, the kind of person you spend your life trying to emulate. Okay, back to the point...we were talking on the phone and she asked me if it had sunk in that I wasn't going back to school. And seeing as its the first fall in as long as I can remember that I'm not going to school one would think I would have thought about this. 

But I hadn't. 

Not until she mentioned it. 

And then I started thinking...and the thing is what saddened me is not the idea that I'm not going back to school now or ever...but rather the idea that I'll never be eight years old going back to school. I miss the cheap, plastic, faux patent leather 101 Dalmatians backpack. I miss choosing a lunch box: Lion King or plain purple with the purse strap? I miss pogs. I miss Magic cards (though I never played, but Connor did). I miss sleepovers where we would stay up all night playing video games. I miss the boxcar children books. I miss sick days. And birthday parties and my mom walking me to school in the morning. I miss the playground, most especially the tire swing. I miss field trips and tea parties. Goodie bags and live "wax museums". I miss the mandatory first day of school picture. I miss (and god I never thought I'd say this) hearing engines of our ingenuity on NPR as my mom drove me to school. I miss uniforms and take home folders. I miss book fairs and field days. Reading hour and goldfish. God, what I would give to be in elementary school again where after school play dates and 1-2-3 jello were the norm. Ahh...life.

That all being said...I've been wishing on 11:11 (you know that old clock superstiton) for quite some time now (no pun intented. well, maybe it was kinda intended). Anywhoo, a few days ago I looked at the clock, saw the wishing hour and had nothing to wish for. Don't get me wrong--there are plenty of things I would like to change about my life...I'd love to have more auditions and a real life theatre job and more money coming in than going out...but all these things (these wishes) are means to an end. That end being happiness. And guess what, I'm happy. So I figure if I'm happy, which I am, then eventually all other things will fall into place. So 11:11, right now, I don't need you. Life is good.

P.S. I really miss trick or treating. I would always get the costume magazine just a month before my birthday and then I'd begin the campaign to get that perfect get-up. One year I was Belle and my friends...I looked good.

Happiness...so that's where you've been hiding...

in singing out loud 

in riding your bike with no hands

in peanut butter and jelly anything

in play dates with your friends

(so basically in all those things that define your childhood...and a few other things that make you so glad you're all grown up)

The past four years were rough but there definitely were things about it that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I met amazing people. And even in the darkest moments I knew I was surrounded by people who loved me. 

This summer, in the car, my mom asked me if we had made a mistake. Should I not have gone to Juilliard? But god bless my parents because they let me make the decision--so if it was a mistake it belonged only to me. 

However, it doesn't matter, its done. And yes, I have my feelings about whether or not I made good choices along the path, but I made them and they have shaped the person I am at this very moment. And the thing is, for the first time in a really long time, I wouldn't change a thing.

Kahil Gibran's The Propeht says without sadness we could never understand happiness. In my moments of greatest calm, where the ego seems to have quieted down, I am possessed by a feeling that I can't name--its transcends happiness yet embraces the beauty of sorrow. It is overwhelming and beautiful. I know that I have a deep sadness within me--a sadness that isn't about the ego wanting to define itself as a victim, but rather is old and wise. It is in me, but its not mine, it doesn't belong to me. I love knowing its there  because it is that very sadness that elevates my joy. It is a spring that nourishes empathy and creativity and allows me to fall in love with theatre all over again, every day (even if I'm not ready to admit this). 

This is not to say that happiness doesn't take work. Its a daily priority and its about relinquishing--taking the unexpected rides and putting yourself in situations that scare you. Its about smiling at strangers and feeling the breeze in your hair (I'm really loving biking right now, and really jealous that Naomi is getting a vespa--god, i have to move to Europe) and listening to your gut and knowing that everything is transitory (the good, as well as the bad). But lately I've found my self smiling, a lot. So much so that I think people who see me must think I'm possessed. Maybe I am. 

So lately these are just some of the little gems I've experienced...

1. I mentioned singing. Well, I have to say Kenny Loggins' Danny's Song has felt really good to belt out. Its a little country and alotta fun. You think you don't know it, but you do...

            "and even though we ain't got money

              I'm so in love with ya, honey

             and everything will bring a chain of love

              and in the mornin' when I rise

              you bring a tear of joy to my eyes

              and tell me, everything's gonna be alright"

Still don't know it? Then look it up on itunes. Its worth it.

2. Bicycling without hands, or with your feet straight out in front of you.

3. Summer evenings when you can feel Fall playing hide-and-go-seek with the inhabitants of the city.

4. Friends, friends, and more friends. Last night Justine and I had a sleep over, tomorrow Jonathan's coming to play with me and today I was a lady who lunched. I went to Bloomies for the first time ever: I oggled the Marc Jacobs bag (it has my name written all over it) and then I joined Naomi, Carolyn, and Vic for a two and half hour lunch at 40 Carrots, the store's restaurant. The poor waiter, I'm sure he was desperate for us to leave, but we were having much too much fun!

Speaking of my little "shot of happiness"...

This is my beautiful photo album. I've even painted a light switch plate to match it. That has yet to arrive from Texas, but I'm sure when it does I'll take a picture and put it on here. (Yes, I'm addicted, I know).

My brother being baptized (3 1/2 years before I was born). Lets take a moment to marvel at my parents amazing fashion sense.

Now for my baptism. My dad looks happy, no? Oh, and my brother wanted to name me January. Thanks, Connor.

Speaking of family in alternative terms. Mr. Marsh joined us on our family vacation when I was about two. He worked with my father and tagged along without even asking. But you know what, my parents love him to this day because he did just that. Connor and I called him the Marshmellow man. 

All the cousins. I was the only girl for a while. Needless to say, I was spoiled.

Grandma Jane, Aunt Sue, and Uncle Bunk. And my infamous Adrienne Vittadini outfit. I refused to take it off for the entire trip (or so I'm told).

I get a good chuckle out of this, my second grade project. I never understood why teachers didn't consider me a very bright student--that is, until I found this photo.

To this day my mother makes me a bunny cake for my birthday. I don't know when it started, but I don't ever want it to end.

Ariana and I performing one of our operas. Pretty sweet costumes.

With Jill after we sang "Sisters, Sisters" at the Rice Shepard school of music. I love these two lades very, very much.

And my adopt-a-family (sans Jonathan). I think I might just be the luckiest girl in the world!

Family in the best possible way...

The two who brought us all together. And the beginning of what we affectionately call, "the congreg zone"

Goofing around one Christmas.

"Connor, why so serious?" 

Burger Lake outing. At this point Stace and Greg were actually living in the Four Seasons hotel. Man was life good!

All of us together for a good 80's Christmas portrait.

Greg and Connor off to the Christmas dance. 

At the infamous Lupes. 

Robyn and Stace made a quick stop in NYC on their around-the-world ticket. Unfortunately, Stace was sick, I was heart-broken, and we were all exhausted out of our minds. One of these days we're gonna have to try that again.

Stace in her gorgeous dress with husband Nick and the rest of the fam. Robyn, domestic goddess,  actually made her own outfit. Yes, she's that good.

I'm not quite sure what has possessed me to blog on this topic today (oh my gosh, I really am becoming a blogger). I think it has to do with suddenly having a lot of time on my hands to scan pictures (I told you there was no stopping me now), but also having that time to reflect on what's important.

I'm suddenly starting my own life, staking a claim, making it my own. And so, okay, I'm not sure what I want to do, I'm not sure I want to be an actor. And that's okay. I'm happy. Really happy, and I haven't always been. After making the choice to spend my summer at home with my family (ghasp) I spent some time culling through the family albums (stealing all of Mom's best photos--I keep waiting for her realization) and making my own. I wanted to bring something with me for those moments of when I felt most alone. Essentially I was trying to bottle a shot of happiness. I put in pictures that remind me of those people I love most and of the moments that have shaped who I am at this very moment.  

One of the great luxuries in life is that we get to choose those people that populate our life.

Christmas of '06 I spent down under with my family (in the conventional sense of the word) and my family (in the best sense of the word). Stace was getting married. 

Okay, maybe I need to back up and give a little history. My brother, Connor fell in love at the ripe old age of three with Greg (come on boys--you know I'm using the term "love" loosely, don't get your panties in a twist). When my parents went in for Connor's parent teacher conference they learned of Greg and of how the two would kiss each day before parting ways (and yes, this time I mean "kiss" literally--I can't wait until one of them gets married and all the good stories come out!). Well, because of this my parents met Greg's parents, Russell and Robyn and it was quickly learned that my dad and Greg's dad worked (and still do work) for the same company. So a simple twist of fate brought our two families together: Russ, Robyn, Stace, and Greg. And my dad, mom, brother, and me. However, our families constantly missed living in the same city. We would move to Dallas just as they would return to Houston. We would then leave Dallas for Houston once more, just as they planned to move to Dallas. But somewhere along the way we would make time for ski trips, Burger lake outings, and some old-time Christmas chaos. 

Okay, so back to Christmas of '06--Stace was getting married to Nick (who we approved of immediately seeing as he is just divine and the two of them are perfect together). It had been a long time since I'd been to a wedding and its a very different thing witnessing vows as a nine-year-old versus seeing it at the age of twenty-one. For the first time, I began to think about the kind of things I will want people to say about me and about the man I've chosen to spend my life with. It was enlightening. But the other great learning part of the trip is that we were surrounded the entire time by people who did nothing but laugh at themselves. If you can't laugh at yourself, then I'm quite sure you've missed the point completely.

So all this is to say: I want to spend my life laughing and celebrating the small things with everyone I love: my parents, brother, friends, adopt-a-family, surrogate family--the list goes on an on. Because what all those people have in common is this: when I'm with them, I feel like I'm home.