fridays are amazing. And I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk.
I really need someone, at least what I had in Paris with Akilles. Someone to run away to. Someone who I can go to when I'm ready to get away from everything else. Someone whose entire world is different from mine, who represents a part of life that is not anything like mine. Some strange paradise.
Maybe a handsome young executive. Or a 9-5 mechanic. or a musician. Or a clerk. Or anything. Anything foreign and new and exciting and full of energy ready to channel into me. And I mean INTO ME, so deep into me that I forget about everything around me and we fall deep into a universe of touch and sound, where the earth, even manhattan has melted away and all that's left is his warm skin against mine and his breath pouring into my soul.
Yes! Please, bring me something new!!
"I was a free man in paris
I felt unfettered and alive
there was nobody callin me up for favors
and no one's future to decide
you know I'd go back there tomorrow
but for the work I've taken on
Stokin' the star-makers' machinery
behind the popular song..."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Nearing February...
the dreaded month of february approaches! AHHHHH!!!!
I started a new show, we go up on the 12th. A new children's play by Lucas Leyva. I play an invalidating mother whose son turns into a cloud. Mother issues - just what I need more of. Morgan is directing it, which is great, I think it will be good.
I'm starting to realize a few of my friendships are unhealthy. I'm trying to extract myself from them, but my two best friends have boyfriends and I don't so, I spend a lot of time reading. Which actually, in the long run, is probably better for me anyway.
I wish Ian lived closer, I miss him. I went to his theatre company's Gala last weekend. I was WASTED but was wearing my pretty new dress, so in the end, I think it was alright. I was DRUNK, not puking drunk but preeeeeeetty fucked up. And then I got stoned and ended up in my kitchen at 3am frying up a chicken breast, which I then did not eat, but found in the fridge the next day. Apparently in the end I went with yogurt instead. Brilliant.
I have my first RA interview this weekend, the first in a series of two or three before hopefully they accept me. Fingers crossed!
I'm trying to find a therapist. How does one do that? I looked online but I feel like really good therapists don't advertise online. Isn't that kind of sketchy? To find a therapist online? I have no idea. And why is every therapist a jewish woman in her 40's? Not that I have anything against jewish women or 40 year old women, but I'm wondering if I shouldn't find someone a little younger? Or is more experience better? Plus, my last therapist just sat there and listened to me talk for an hour. I don't want to go to therapy to vent, I want to make sure the cognitive schema I'm creating are going to lead to healthy thoughts and reactions. Bah!
Also, french music is amazing.
nap time!
I started a new show, we go up on the 12th. A new children's play by Lucas Leyva. I play an invalidating mother whose son turns into a cloud. Mother issues - just what I need more of. Morgan is directing it, which is great, I think it will be good.
I'm starting to realize a few of my friendships are unhealthy. I'm trying to extract myself from them, but my two best friends have boyfriends and I don't so, I spend a lot of time reading. Which actually, in the long run, is probably better for me anyway.
I wish Ian lived closer, I miss him. I went to his theatre company's Gala last weekend. I was WASTED but was wearing my pretty new dress, so in the end, I think it was alright. I was DRUNK, not puking drunk but preeeeeeetty fucked up. And then I got stoned and ended up in my kitchen at 3am frying up a chicken breast, which I then did not eat, but found in the fridge the next day. Apparently in the end I went with yogurt instead. Brilliant.
I have my first RA interview this weekend, the first in a series of two or three before hopefully they accept me. Fingers crossed!
I'm trying to find a therapist. How does one do that? I looked online but I feel like really good therapists don't advertise online. Isn't that kind of sketchy? To find a therapist online? I have no idea. And why is every therapist a jewish woman in her 40's? Not that I have anything against jewish women or 40 year old women, but I'm wondering if I shouldn't find someone a little younger? Or is more experience better? Plus, my last therapist just sat there and listened to me talk for an hour. I don't want to go to therapy to vent, I want to make sure the cognitive schema I'm creating are going to lead to healthy thoughts and reactions. Bah!
Also, french music is amazing.
nap time!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Back To School
to prove to daddy that I'm not a fool...
Billy Madison, anyone?
The night before I left I had a panic attack and convinced myself that my plane was going to crash. I almost told my mom so she could help calm me down, but I knew deep down somewhere that I was being completely irrational and I was too embaressed to tell her. God I'm insane. These are the reasons I'll spend the rest of my life alone.
Being back is strange, it feels different than it has every other time I came back. Even after France. I feel like a strange foreign thing, une bête curieuse, and I imagine everyone looking at me like I don't belong.
Already had my acting class, which should be interesting. I hope I'm put with a scene partner that isn't awful and unmotivated *cough*martin*cough*. We're doing scenes from, of all things, ENDGAME. Which of course I've already sat through half a million times. And we're working on it for half the semester.
I turned in my application for RA today, GOD let's hope it works out siiiince I can't really afford to live in the city for another year...
Hervé met someone else. Maybe I should to. i don't know
I think I'll just read Anaïs Nin and dream. At least there I won't be dissapointed.
ciao mes petites puces,
linotte
Billy Madison, anyone?
The night before I left I had a panic attack and convinced myself that my plane was going to crash. I almost told my mom so she could help calm me down, but I knew deep down somewhere that I was being completely irrational and I was too embaressed to tell her. God I'm insane. These are the reasons I'll spend the rest of my life alone.
Being back is strange, it feels different than it has every other time I came back. Even after France. I feel like a strange foreign thing, une bête curieuse, and I imagine everyone looking at me like I don't belong.
Already had my acting class, which should be interesting. I hope I'm put with a scene partner that isn't awful and unmotivated *cough*martin*cough*. We're doing scenes from, of all things, ENDGAME. Which of course I've already sat through half a million times. And we're working on it for half the semester.
I turned in my application for RA today, GOD let's hope it works out siiiince I can't really afford to live in the city for another year...
Hervé met someone else. Maybe I should to. i don't know
I think I'll just read Anaïs Nin and dream. At least there I won't be dissapointed.
ciao mes petites puces,
linotte
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Hard Truth
God today was awful. Every time I have a "talk" with anyone in my family I end up crying my eyes out, it goes nowhere, and I end up feeling worse after.
Which is exactly what's going to happen tomorrow when I see my sister.
I'm just so tired of this whole mess. Its just not fair, not fair for people to treat each other this way.
Which brings me to today, which left me ramming my head into the wall of what I consider life's hardest truth: you have to learn to live with the world the way it is, not the way you wish it was.
This has always been a difficult lesson for me. Maybe because I lived too much in my imagination as a child. Maybe I read too many books. Maybe I would afterall have been better off playing videogames where people shoot eachother over gold and stab eachother in the back to win. Maybe we protect our children too much from the hardness of life.
I suppose, maybe until today, I believed that the world could be different. Or at least that I could make MY world different, surround myself with people and situations that are fair.
But reality is unavoidable, profound dissapointments are inevitable. We are all trapped and there is no way out, not money or fame or good behavior even or anything.
It brings me back to the conversation Hervé and Ian and I had after Thanksgiving dinner where I clung to my dear dear belief that springs from some deeply deluded part of my soul, that the world is cruel and unfair because we let it be. That it doesn't have to be that way, and that a person can still exist and survive without having to accept the world this way.
But I think I am now beginning to see that you can't survive that way. In order to glean any tiny happiness from this mess you have to deal in world that is unacceptably cruel and unjust. You have to accept it and move on with your life.
c'est la grande tristesse de la vie. Sadder than anything maybe. That you cannot make the world better by living a good life, and you cannot make yourself happy by pursuing happiness.
I guess you just have to feel lucky to be alive, and take what the world hands you and be as satisfied as you can.
No wonder the whole world is depressed.
Which is exactly what's going to happen tomorrow when I see my sister.
I'm just so tired of this whole mess. Its just not fair, not fair for people to treat each other this way.
Which brings me to today, which left me ramming my head into the wall of what I consider life's hardest truth: you have to learn to live with the world the way it is, not the way you wish it was.
This has always been a difficult lesson for me. Maybe because I lived too much in my imagination as a child. Maybe I read too many books. Maybe I would afterall have been better off playing videogames where people shoot eachother over gold and stab eachother in the back to win. Maybe we protect our children too much from the hardness of life.
I suppose, maybe until today, I believed that the world could be different. Or at least that I could make MY world different, surround myself with people and situations that are fair.
But reality is unavoidable, profound dissapointments are inevitable. We are all trapped and there is no way out, not money or fame or good behavior even or anything.
It brings me back to the conversation Hervé and Ian and I had after Thanksgiving dinner where I clung to my dear dear belief that springs from some deeply deluded part of my soul, that the world is cruel and unfair because we let it be. That it doesn't have to be that way, and that a person can still exist and survive without having to accept the world this way.
But I think I am now beginning to see that you can't survive that way. In order to glean any tiny happiness from this mess you have to deal in world that is unacceptably cruel and unjust. You have to accept it and move on with your life.
c'est la grande tristesse de la vie. Sadder than anything maybe. That you cannot make the world better by living a good life, and you cannot make yourself happy by pursuing happiness.
I guess you just have to feel lucky to be alive, and take what the world hands you and be as satisfied as you can.
No wonder the whole world is depressed.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Mlle. Linotte Speaks
I miss Paris!
I miss the café culture. I miss going somewhere in an amazing neighborhood and sitting at a table and reading and drinking espresso for HOURS.
sigh.
You See!!!!
I told you I was a scatterbrain!
I forgot to say:
It snowed! The entire world looked like a beautiful sparkling heaven this morning. Every tree's tiny branch was covered in crystal. It was perfection.
also, every day I get two emails, one from the new york times and one from bluefly and none whatsoever from hervé. and I have no idea what i expected or why this suprising me but it does. To be truthfull I miss him terribly.
ok that's all, I think. I'm sure I am forgotten other things. I am really terrible.
bisous!
ton Linotte
I forgot to say:
It snowed! The entire world looked like a beautiful sparkling heaven this morning. Every tree's tiny branch was covered in crystal. It was perfection.
also, every day I get two emails, one from the new york times and one from bluefly and none whatsoever from hervé. and I have no idea what i expected or why this suprising me but it does. To be truthfull I miss him terribly.
ok that's all, I think. I'm sure I am forgotten other things. I am really terrible.
bisous!
ton Linotte
Le Petit Linotte
Sorry I haven't been posting...I know I'm terribly naughty. But I've been completely absorbed in the ENTIRE diaries of Anais Nin which my mom got me for Christmas. I excitedly devoured the first volume, which covers her entire adolescence pretty much. It was charming, although that fevered compulsion poetry of hers that I love I'm sure doesn't begin until much later.
The title of the first volume is 'Linotte' which was one of her favorite nicknames for herself. Its a little bird, actually, but it means a little scatterbrain. I think I'm going to adopt it too, hehe.
Nothing at home (and by home, I mean serious childhood home home) has progressed but nothing I suppose has increasingly deteriorated since New Years. My father insists on pretending as if nothing happened, and neither my mother nor I can force him to deal with his delusions. I just hope they don't explode again as soon as I'm gone. He's gone back to work, starting his new job, and I hope perhaps this helps him channel some of whatever he is fueled with. God only knows. I just hope he would go back to therapy, although my mother and I have both accepted by now he won't ever change because he doesn't want to.
My mom went to see a lawyer who she liked, but they both decided to wait...that this wasn't the time, etc. It just pains me waiting and waiting and watching the time tick by and torment her. She deserves happiness, sublime happiness more than anyone I know in the world and I just want her to have it!
We have been spending lots of quality time together, and I indulge her probably more than I should. But already when we're together I sense that each second will perhaps soon be only a memory and I remind myself to cherish every tiny thing she does and says because they will one day be my only comforts in a sea of despair. May that day be far far away. I love my mother so much, I complain terribly about her, I am really a bad sort, but really she is an angel.
My dad is just being his self. I promise him we would go eat indian food this weekend. I don't even know what I'm going to do with him. What is going on in his brain.
I haven't seen my sister. I need to stop putting it off, if only because I have a shitload of gifts to give her. Not only from me but apparently the extended family now assumes that I am her Santa Claus and sends her gifts to me to deliver. Christ.
I know its silly but I still hold out hope that she and my mom will one day reunite. It is really my dearest wish, but it may be impossible. That pains me a great deal.
Anyhow, I come back to New York on monday and classes start tuesday morning. No breaks there. I can hardly remember what I even registered for. I do remember however that I've got to get into one of those History night classes. Fucking hell.
I miss Meg and Sammy and Morgan and my silly boys.
Alors! That's all and little miss is tired!
avec tous mes plus beaux souhaits,
ton petit linotte
The title of the first volume is 'Linotte' which was one of her favorite nicknames for herself. Its a little bird, actually, but it means a little scatterbrain. I think I'm going to adopt it too, hehe.
Nothing at home (and by home, I mean serious childhood home home) has progressed but nothing I suppose has increasingly deteriorated since New Years. My father insists on pretending as if nothing happened, and neither my mother nor I can force him to deal with his delusions. I just hope they don't explode again as soon as I'm gone. He's gone back to work, starting his new job, and I hope perhaps this helps him channel some of whatever he is fueled with. God only knows. I just hope he would go back to therapy, although my mother and I have both accepted by now he won't ever change because he doesn't want to.
My mom went to see a lawyer who she liked, but they both decided to wait...that this wasn't the time, etc. It just pains me waiting and waiting and watching the time tick by and torment her. She deserves happiness, sublime happiness more than anyone I know in the world and I just want her to have it!
We have been spending lots of quality time together, and I indulge her probably more than I should. But already when we're together I sense that each second will perhaps soon be only a memory and I remind myself to cherish every tiny thing she does and says because they will one day be my only comforts in a sea of despair. May that day be far far away. I love my mother so much, I complain terribly about her, I am really a bad sort, but really she is an angel.
My dad is just being his self. I promise him we would go eat indian food this weekend. I don't even know what I'm going to do with him. What is going on in his brain.
I haven't seen my sister. I need to stop putting it off, if only because I have a shitload of gifts to give her. Not only from me but apparently the extended family now assumes that I am her Santa Claus and sends her gifts to me to deliver. Christ.
I know its silly but I still hold out hope that she and my mom will one day reunite. It is really my dearest wish, but it may be impossible. That pains me a great deal.
Anyhow, I come back to New York on monday and classes start tuesday morning. No breaks there. I can hardly remember what I even registered for. I do remember however that I've got to get into one of those History night classes. Fucking hell.
I miss Meg and Sammy and Morgan and my silly boys.
Alors! That's all and little miss is tired!
avec tous mes plus beaux souhaits,
ton petit linotte
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Ah the New Year...
On this, now the second day of 2007, I'm reminded of a quote from a very deranged-yet-brilliant man.
"They say that time changes things, but really you have to change them yourself"
Andy Warhol.
Which is lovely and empowering and inspiring and all that crap. But then I'm reminded of the giant emotional sink-hole that is the one thing (although really its a giant snowball of a million things, but we'll just sum it up into one thing) that I can do absolutely nothing about. Really. I can't do anything, except maybe completely crush what's left of the parties involved, and that's a negative change, we don't like those. Those are bad. Imminent, regardless of my ardent and exhausting efforts, but bad.
Here's my new year's revelation:
Family: the new f-word
"They say that time changes things, but really you have to change them yourself"
Andy Warhol.
Which is lovely and empowering and inspiring and all that crap. But then I'm reminded of the giant emotional sink-hole that is the one thing (although really its a giant snowball of a million things, but we'll just sum it up into one thing) that I can do absolutely nothing about. Really. I can't do anything, except maybe completely crush what's left of the parties involved, and that's a negative change, we don't like those. Those are bad. Imminent, regardless of my ardent and exhausting efforts, but bad.
Here's my new year's revelation:
Family: the new f-word
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