Loss

I don’t think that I’ve ever talked about the death of my father on my blog, and it is a wonder that today I’m choosing to do so. A good friend of mine lost her father this week and a high school bff lost her mother just last summer. My father would have turned 63 at the beginning of this month. I agree with Kris in this post that the death of a parent has a profound impact on your life and that you sort of join a club. In my case, I’ve been a member of that club for over 16 years now.

And yet, everything I was feeling at that time and all the time afterwards are just as fresh and piercing as it was then. Thankfully, I no longer purposefully wear black on the day of his death and his birthday as I did in junior and high school. But the period from Christmas (when my sister and I were told he was sick) until early March (his birthday) continue to be the hardest time of the year for me. I’m definitely better than I was just a few years ago, but I don’t know if I will ever be able to wake up on Feb 19 (the date of death – just one day before my mother’s birthday, so I can only imagine what she feels) or March 5 (his birthday), without a piercing or dull ache of longing and sadness.

But I am proud of the progress I've made. In the last few years, I finally forgave the 12 year old me. I struggled for so many years to confront all of my conflicting emotions about how and when I was told my father was sick, the sort of denial I entered afterwards, not having the chance to say goodbye, the last time I saw him, the day the ambulance came to take him away, and the numbness I felt from that point on. It never really went away.

For years, I rarely talked about my father – the good times or the last months. And I think holding all that in has put a toll on me. Now, I will talk about my father with certain friendsa and on certain occassions. But not with my family for some reason. It is weird but I can't fully open up with my mother about it. The hurt is just too pure still. Indeed, I still need to see a counselor…

I know that I have baggage because of what happened and the way I chose to deal with it. I became a daddy’s girl without a daddy at the age of 12 – and I know my fear of abandonment, my insecurities, and my search for a “father figure” played out in my relationship with Floyd (and many other relationships for that matter).

That’s the unfortunate stuff that is still unresolved. But, I also know that the strong, independent, driven and success woman I am now would not have been without that whole experience. I sort of committed to taking the torch of achievement, experience, and growth that my father never had a chance to officially pass on. I know that he lives on through me and that he would be unbelievably proud (as is my mother) of the woman that I have become. I like to think that I’m kinder and more responsive to my mother and the rest of my family, especially as they get older.

And yet, what I wouldn’t give to have him back here and to relive (the “right” way) those last few weeks between when I was told and when he was gone. I forgive my mother, my father, and my 12 year old self; but there is a lifetime of grief that remains.

My recommendation to anyone dealing with grief is to talk to someone: a friend, a psychologist, family members, your priest/rabbi, etc. I have experienced and re-experienced all of the stages of grief identified by Kubler-Ross. It doesn't necessarily get easier with time but you learn to live with it and find ways to turn that grief into positive action and change in your life. You just have to be patient with yourself. And most of all take care of yourself.

The Red Derby

Over the weekend, I went to the Red Derby with two high school buddies (Celestyn and Pharma). For the record it was a very beautiful and fun extended weekend of entertaining Celestyn.

I really like the Red Derby and since it is closer to my house than The Raven, it is more likely that I'll actually return. The cash only policy is annoying but the price is right on the mixed drinks, and they offer Strongbow (still looking for a place with it on draft). I wasn't too annoyed by the patrons and it was easy to score a seat. If only, it had a jukebox. Then, it would be closer to filling the void left when I moved away from Quarry House, the neighborhood divebar in Silver Spring.

So overall, it is a great neighborhood drink option for me. The only problem is being able to lure my friends away from the convenient and rowdy bars of Chinatown and U Street for the Red Derby experience.

First Take: Acting Class

So now that I've had my first class and attended my first Actor's Center meeting, I am feeling even more like a hopeless novice.

For my acting class, we are to spend the upcoming few weeks working with a partner to develop and perfect our assigned dialogue and individually, to do the same with a self-selected monologue. I am excited by the prospects of this but more than anything overwhelmed. In reviewing and rereading my scene, I have become frustrated by the fact there seems to be an unlimited number of ways to say a word or phrase. My character could show her feelings in so many different ways and it is up to me (along with the cast and director) to hone in on my character's essence so that the lines ring true. And I find that daunting.

Part of our assignment this week is to come up with exploratory questions about our character and work on our scene based on the range of answers to those questions (without explicitly letting our partner know the answers). For example my scene is of me being dumped by a new lover. So I need to determine (based on the scene and the rest of the play), for example, how deeply my character feels toward her lover and if she might have baggage that might impact how she expresses herself. She can say "don't leave me" with varying degrees of desperation/conflict/sadness/remorse/relief in her voice and body language. Ultimately, I will have to decide what works best based on my interpretation of the play and how my partner interprets the play and delivers his lines. This makes the whole development process challenging but fun.

I am very happy that I signed up for the class. It has given me many interesting things to think about during the last week. And it is so nice to meet people who share my amateur interest in the craft.

Weekend Visitor

One of my high school bff’s will be in-town starting tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to her visit, but I can’t think of anything cool to do. Last time she was here, I took her to watch the Capitol Fourth concert and fireworks, followed by a VIP reception. It’s hard to top that.

Thankfully, the weather is supposed to be nice all weekend so I’ll probably drag her down to the National Mall for a little sightseeing. I would love to take a tour bus around the city—while wearing a FBI sweatshirt, tube socks, and sneakers. Ugh…that reminds me that the start of the tourist season is only a few weeks away! My friend will probably want to check out one or two of the museums, and I think that we'd both enjoy going to the top of the Washington Monument. Tomorrow night, my plan is to take her to The Raven or The Red Derby (no, NOT Wonderland) for the neighborhood bar experience.

It is crazy that the only time that I truly take advantage of all that DC has to offer is when a family member or friend comes into town. I love my city, and I really should make a point of experiencing it beyond my normal work-home-errand route on a regular basis.

Wanted: A Personal Life

What an insane week it has been! I think that I developed an ulcer from all the work and work-related stress that I was subject to. Thankfully, everything went very well--with only a few hiccups and letdowns.

This week forced me to get serious about two things - a) work truly consumes my life during the work week (forget any after work or lunchtime plans because I'll probably have to cancel); b) I must get a life outside of work to help me de-stress and find non-work fulfillment.

I've decided to cancel my $70 gym membership in favor of using that cash to pay for acting classes. The weather will get a bit more mild soon for outdoor exercise and I can always join the reasonably priced House gym if I get fat.

So my first acting class since college starts next week. I am so excited! I think that I should make a habit of rewarding and challenging myself with classes in acting and maybe even classes in music and communications/writing.

I love my job and my Hill bubble but there is a whole world and another life for me outside of work. I need to start living it!

Catchup

Wow. It’s been awhile since my last entry. I am happy to report that all is well, though my life in the New Year hasn’t quite gone as planned. Mainly, I’m mad at myself for not taking my resolutions seriously. I thought my resolutions were simple enough: fitness, acting, and travel. In truth, my resolutions were about balance. For the past year, work has dominated my existence and I felt that challenging myself to do something new would go a long way towards giving me that elusive balance. Yet, I’ve slipped into my old ways. Working late many days and opting to unwind with a book or movie instead of at the gym or in an acting class.

But now, after a week off from work due to the snow, I’m recommitting myself to my resolutions. I’ve already chosen the acting class I will take starting in March and I’m devising a game plan to increase the likelihood that I will venture to the gym despite the coldness and darkness that is winter.

I’m really looking forward to the acting class. I took a class in high school and college and both were very memorable. I like the idea of doing something totally different and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. In a dream world, I could learn the craft well-enough to land parts on the stage or behind the camera. There is something so fascinating about the creative world, and I’ve always loved novels and plays. It should be refreshing to explore my creativity outside of my mind and room as it is when I read novels and write stories.

As a bonus, I hope to meet people outside of my Hill bubble. A friend and I were chatting over the weekend about how cutthroat the Hill can be. There is so much ambition up there and everywhere you look there is a line of people willing to do anything to land your job. And for someone like me for whom nepotism didn’t play a part in my ascent on the Hill, I have to work extra hard to maintain my position and ensure that I can continue to get ahead. So far, it’s working, but it will be refreshing to meet and hangout with more people who aren’t a part of that world.

An Amateur Writer's Frustration

I’m back to working on my novel this month and I am frustrated more than anything else. While I find some of the inconsistencies in my writing amusing, I am troubled by the basics that I should have thought through before I began. For me, it is the basic of tense.

My novel is in the present tense. I don’t know that I chose it deliberately. It is just what felt right to me at the time. Back when I was a member of a writer’s group, someone pointed out that my story's tense was problematic. I ignored him, choosing to focus on getting my story written down instead of dealing with something as "insignificant" and "easily fixable" as tense. But now, I fear that may have been a bad decision.

I spent most of the night reading a variety of opinions on the drawbacks of using the present tense. There are instances of manuscripts being rejected for using present tense and of readers being turned off by a story in present tense. If not done expertly and with purpose, it can make a story read more like a screenplay than a novel. I think that is the problem with my story. I am writing a novel.

So I tried to rewrite the first few paragraph in past tense tonight, but it just didn’t work. Maybe it is the mark of an amateur writer but I can’t seem to set as vivid of a scene in past than present tense. I don’t mind using “he said” and “she said” in dialogue but I like the active presence of a scene described with the present tense.

I am frustrated but again, I value more expanding subplots and filling in holes than resolving problems with tense. I'll just leave it for the springtime or whenever I've finally reached 100,000 words. At that point, I'll be kicking myself yet again for not minding the basics.

Back from the Brink

I almost died this weekend. Perhaps, that is an exaggeration but I blacked out at least twice on my way from the kitchen to my room early Saturday morning after the most unforgettable night of developing a "special relationship with my toilet" (thanks, A-M).

I’m blaming the almonds that my mother sent me though it could have easily been the peanut butter sandwich or veggie chili that I ate Friday. I’ve had food poisoning once before. It was about three years ago as a result of bad food/water at a work retreat in West Virginia. On that occasion, several people got sick. This time, it was just me. It was lonely not having anyone to commiserate with. Thankfully, I had just gone to the library and I was well-stocked with movies and books to comfort and distract me from my digestive tract. Floyd was a lifesaver as well.

A bruise on my shoulder, an almost healed-cut on my lip, and slight stomach unease are the only reminders of this weekend's unfortunate turn of events. I am still upset that all the glorious plans I had for this weekend were shattered. As part of my carpe diem in 2010 outlook, I had packed my weekend with an improv class, girl’s night, sleepover, volunteer opportunity, and NGA movie. Needless to say, I didn’t leave my house all weekend other than to crawl to the store for Gatorade.

I am thankful that I’m alive. I totally could have hit my head when I blacked out and fell (in the living room and on the stairs!). I was all very alarming. I am very thankful for all that my body does to protect me from harm. And even more thankful that it has the power to heal.

Normalcy Restored

I'm feeling much better today. I was so disinterested at work on Thursday and Friday, spending most of my time researching flights back to Isla and other warm, far away places. My anxiety peaked Saturday night until I had a long talk with Floyd. Now I'm back in my routine and feeling more relaxed and upbeat about what another year in D.C. will bring.

My conversation with Floyd was a much needed reality check. He pointed to the flaw in me letting "arbitrary" deadlines dictate my life. When I was 18, I wanted to be married by 25, have a house by 28, and kid or two by 30. When I hit 25, I relunctantly pushed back the timeline by 5 years, and at 28, I've anxiously pushed the timeline back by 10. It's easier, perhaps, for Floyd as a guy to avoid thinking in such a way, as he isn't bound by a biological clock and the double-standard that he'll be perceived as more handsome with age while I'll just continue to wrinkle and sag.

But he is right about one thing. I need to do away with my anxiety about turning 30 - and the value that I place on what I have or haven't accomplished by then.

While I still stand ready to "carpe diem" this year, I am less anxious to drop out or run away to experience the exotic and new "before I get old". There are still opportunities and challenges left for me in D.C., and I should earnestly take another year to seek them out. So that when (if ever) the time comes for me to leave D.C., I can leave in peace and without regret.

New Year, New Resolutions

Ah, this is my first post of the New Year. It is very probable that this will be my last year of blogging. I’ve been quite distracted by other things during the past year and I apologize for not blogging as regularly as I once did.

The holiday break passed well. I feel refreshed and relaxed though, perhaps, even more distracted than I was when I left.

Atlanta
I enjoyed hanging with my family and friends in Atlanta. It was the longest that I’ve been at home since I was in college. It is sad to recognize that I don’t plan on being home that much during the upcoming years. My life isn’t in Atlanta. Given my professional interest in federal policy, I have no reason to live in Atlanta. And I don't plan on moving home until my mother and aunt's age necessitates my presence. Thankfully, my mother accepts this and is content with my annual/semi-annual visits home--supporting my freedom to live where and how I choose.

Isla de Mujeres
I had a blast in Mexico with my friends. It was possibly one of the most restful and uplifting vacations I’ve ever had. The weather was milder than we had hoped it would be but that didn’t damper our spirits. The beach was beautiful, the food was great, and everyone was friendly. My friends and I made a pact to return to Isla before we turned 50, but I hope to return later this year—assuming that one of my friends heads back for the discounted scuba lessons that she was promised. Most importantly, the trip made me anxious for more international travel and recommitted me to visiting my friends in London.

D.C.
As you can imagine, it was quite a shock to return to the coldness that is DC after lounging on the beach. I returned to work anxious for my next vacation but more than that anxious for a decision about my life. A change will come this year. I’m itching for a new challenge and I’m feeling a little wary getting sucked further into the Hill and the security of having a satisfying federal job, when I long to live in NYC and abroad.

Today, I dug up my old Peace Corps papers. I don’t care to go through the application process again, at least not now. But I am toying with the idea (again) of working abroad in some capacity. This usurps my desire to act—though it does encourage me to make the most out of the next year in that regard, in addition to spending well my time in D.C. To this extent, I’ve created a list of goals for 2010 in addition to a bucket list on 43 Things. I hope that it will help me keep in sight my desires for the next twelve months in addition to my long-term wishes that often get buried in the day-to-day.

If I had my way, this year would be my last in D.C. and on the Hill. It just seems so odd and perhaps, unwise to want to dropout for a bit given the economy and the fact that hundreds, even thousands, of people would kill for my job. Not to mention the fact that I love my job and find it rewarding. And I love and am thankful for the life that I've been able to build in D.C. D.C. has treated me well and who knows what sort of disappointment awaits me in NYC, Miami, or abroad.

Yet, I can’t seem to fight for long the desire to challenge myself and to finish my twenties (16 months and counting til 30) with a bang. The most important thing for me always is to seek happiness and peace in whatever form I see fit. And that's what I will strive to do.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I’m headed to Atlanta tomorrow. I am looking forward to spending the next 1.5 weeks home. I can’t wait to see my friends and my family, sleep in my old bed, and take a bubble bath in my own bathroom. I hope that I’m not too bored, but it will be a major adjustment from being independent in the city to being car-dependent in the suburbs. I’ll have my novel to edit, some books to read, and a bicycle waiting for me--which should be plenty. Beside working on my novel, I am committed to getting a bit of exercise in before the big reveal in Mexico. Oh, to have my toes in white sand and to feel a salty breeze in my face.

Isla de Mujeres – the destination of my first trip in 2010 – looks like paradise from all the pictures. I’m packing a little light reading, Pride and Prejudice (!), but my real goals are to get a massage on the beach, do some sunset yoga, eat lots of Mexican food, and daydream. I'm going for my friend's 30th birthday. Perhaps, I should also celebrate my 30th in a big way (thankfully, I still have 1.5 years).

Although I’ve had a fair break during the past month due to all the vacation days I’ve been using, I still crave quality time away from the hustle and bustle of DC and the near-constant buzzing of my blackberry. And, it’ll be nice to get away from my roommates (especially the subltetter and the infamous mouse family). I will miss Gray Cat, and I hope s/he hangs on until I return.

A Pat on the Back

I started working on a chick-lit novel during the fall of 2007. I am happy to say that tonight I finished the first draft. It's almost 34,000 words--about half of which were added during the past month.

I don't know how I feel about the story at this point. It is silly, simple, and purposeless in many ways. But that is how I feel about most chick-lit. If you are lucky, you come across a book that gives you a gem of wisdom about life. But mostly, it is a marvelous, often mindless, diversion from the everyday.

Regardless of how meaningful or meaningless my story is, I am proud that I followed through and finally finished it. That is something I can celebrate, even if it languishes on my thumbdrive for eternity.

I have two more weeks to add at least another 60,000 words of descriptions, backstory, and dialogue. And I want to strengthen the hook. That is certainly a "heavy lift" but I'm thinking that it will be a fun and rewarding challenge.

Vampire Romance

I'm pretty good at making excuses. I've been too busy this year to write frequent posts, too lazy to work on my bye-bye arms, and too poor to travel beyond ATL. But I think my excuse for not being on track for finishing a draft of my novel by the end of the year is valid.

As I was swept away by the Twilight saga, I have be taken in by the Sookie Stackhouse series. Once skeptical and condescending, I am now a convert and undeniably hooked. The series is just so fun. It is entertaining with a fine mix of mystery, the supernatural, comedy, and romance. I tell myself that I am doing research for my book. While it true that I am getting ideas from the author--especially from how she has developed the characters and her style during the series, that is no excuse for choosing (most nights) to read instead of write.

I must write. I have about 3 weeks to finish the final two scenes before going back and to add fluff and fill out the back story. I guess that is the fun part but right now, nothing is more fun than finding out if Sookie ends up with Eric, Bill, Quinn, or someone else. I can only hope to develop my story and style so that readers can have an escape and an expression that is just as satisfying.

I simply must finish because my new year's creative resolution of acting awaits. I just hope that I don't get sidetracked by the other series I've heard about, Anita Blake. I love that I'm slightly branching out in terms of genres but I realize that at some point I will have to return to the classics, my home.

A shout-out to Organica for reminding me I have readers who enjoy the distraction that is my blog as much as I do.

Subletters Suck

My roommate, who will be out of town for work and vacation all of December, decided to get a subletter for her room. I was fine with her getting a subletter and very hands-off during her search process. I figured that it would only be for one month and as long as the person didn’t steal our stuff or trash the house, I could live with whoever she chose. Boy, was I wrong.

It’s only been a few days, but I am itching for our subletter to leave. I don’t know why he irks me so much. It’s probably the fact that he’s interrupted the house’s routine—my routine. No longer can I come home from work to a quiet house before my other roommates make it home around 730. He’s always there. No longer can I sit in front of the cable TV and eat my dinner. He’s always there watching basketball. Tuesday and yesterday, I asked for his help in picking up the mouse traps. He declined. I’m proud that I was able successfully got rid of the smashed critter on my own but I was furiously puzzled that he wasn’t helpful. Isn’t that what males do for squeamish females like me?

I also find him weird. On the first two nights, I tried to make small talk. It was so awkward that I eventually gave up. I’m not the most sociable person out there, so I won’t talk just for the sake of making you feel comfortable and welcome if you are not taking the bait.

He and my other male roommate seem to get along fine. So it’s just me with the problem (per usual…).

I am a creature of habit and familiarity. Anything or anyone that diverges from my sense of normalcy tends to be instantly disliked, distrusted, and even hated (I’ll comment my reaction to my new workmates some other time). I’ve already started counting down the days until he departs and my old roommate returns. I hope that I am able to keep my cool and my distance until them.

"Take a chance you stupid…"

I’m going to take control in 2010 and start following my dreams. That’s my resolution. For the past year, I’ve been safe, preparing and being inspired. Now, it’s time to gamble a bit.

The less risky form that my resolution will take is to travel more. I already have a short trip to Mexico scheduled for early January, and I am committed to visiting two friends on their own turf in MA and NC. And of course, there is the trip to London and beyond that I keep talking about.

The potentially riskier dream that has only recently entered my crazy head is acting. As you know, I’ve been looking for a creative outlet and I think that acting is the right fit for me. On a side note, I’ve decided that I will finish a first draft of my novel by the end of the year, so that I can wholly commit creatively to acting.

I’ve already check out a book from the library (!) and talked to a coworker who is an experienced actor. I want to give it a serious try so I’m going to divert some of my savings to getting headshots and to taking a few acting classes (starting with the Actor's Center). I’ve always wanted to be an extra and I think that I should give actual acting a try as well. It will be a diverting hobby that, with a lot of hard work and a little luck, could lead to something even more fulfilling than I could ever imagine.

I know that it is a pipe dream to even begin to think that I could be a real actress. I don’t know if I have any real talent. And I know that thousands of people enroll in classes or move to LA and NYC every year in hopes of becoming the next big thing. What makes me any different? Perhaps, nothing. But why not throw my hat in the ring—or at least train as if I would? Now, I don’t plan on quitting my day job and moving to LA. But I think that this new path will lead to a lot of interesting experiences and stories that I’ll be able to share when I’m a content soccer mom.

I look forward to telling my mom over the holidays that I want to be an actress after months of appearing set on my current career track. The conversation should be sort of like when I said I was going to quit my secure nonprofit job to join the Peace Corps. I know that she will ultimately be supportive but it will be interesting to see how she reacts to yet another of my revelations. It’s crazy that I’ve become increasingly flighty with age. I was always the dependable, straight-laced daughter who had everything planned out. Now that I’m older and recognize that life is a bit more random, I want to take advantage of my youth and freedom to be selfish and pursue a few of my child-hood/ish dreams.