We were told we'd hear if we made it onto a student improv team by today. If we don't hear, then we didn't make it. I haven't heard, and it's 5:39. So, there you go. Rats.
I'm not surprised, and it occurred to me today that it's a good sign that I'm able to tell that I didn't do well enough to get in, as opposed to being completely deceived about the quality of my own performance compared to those of the other auditionees. So, it's back onto the metaphorical horse tonight, as I head back to class, and likely to interaction with folks who did make it. As well they should, because there are talented people in my class.
It's awkward, trying to learn new things in your 30s. Without realizing it, I got used to being good at things like music and academics as I was growing up, and I developed perfectionism by avoiding things that didn't come naturally to me. I could get by without cultivating the determination acquired by kids who had to come from behind. No longer. I'm now doing improv with people who both have formal acting training and are ten years my junior. Or who are just plain more naturally gifted at it. I've auditioned for the student teams twice, and have failed to make it in twice. But I still want to do this, so that means dusting myself off, sucking up the embarrassment of being mediocre, and keeping going.
One thing I'm learning is to give myself credit for pushing past the fear and giving it a shot. And although I punked out and didn't take the April auditions, I've now given it another shot. Looks like I'll be waiting till Fall till I get another shot, but to my knowledge there's no limit on how many times you can try.
One of the big reasons why I'd like to get onto one of these teams is that, once you've made it through Level 6, there are no more weekly classes to take. I'm halfway through Level 5 now, and I'd like to continue to have regular practice. Once I graduate, if I'm not already on a team, I imagine it'll only get harder because I'll "lose my chops." Although, I suppose I could start taking classes at the other improv theater in town. So, nothing is fatal.
I used to want a blemish-free record. I didn't want to be like the college kid Rudy, in the football movie; I wanted to be the guy who got first string quarterback. But the first string doesn't have a movie made about him, does he? I'm noticing that a lot of successful people talk about not giving up. Well then, here's where the rubber meets the road.
I'm going to class tonight. This is me not giving up.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Seriously, Verizon?
Verizon has done it again. I don't even have an Inernet account with them anymore, and they've managed to do it again.
I got the old account moved to a roommate's name. I moved away. A year ago. But like a stalker just released from jail, Verizon tracked me down once I thought I was finally free. This past Thursday, I got a call from them saying they'd received a complaint from me. Um, not recently. Apparently, someone is having trouble with the account, and somewhere in the bowels of Verizon's records, they still have it listed under my name The woman who called me was nice and didn't push the issue, but she wasn't able to fix it, either.
So I gave them a call to get my name erased from every document they've ever had, so they can't call me and can't find my new apartment and can't keep texting me and asking if I'll meet their parents because no one's as pretty as I am. And they said I'm not listed on an account with them.
Great. I am, but I'm not. I'm listed enough for them to call me, but not enough for them to erase that listing. Sounds like a stalker ploy to me!
Please lose my number again, Verizon. Please stop thinking that we "had something special." Don't make me get that restraining order.
Because I will.
I got the old account moved to a roommate's name. I moved away. A year ago. But like a stalker just released from jail, Verizon tracked me down once I thought I was finally free. This past Thursday, I got a call from them saying they'd received a complaint from me. Um, not recently. Apparently, someone is having trouble with the account, and somewhere in the bowels of Verizon's records, they still have it listed under my name The woman who called me was nice and didn't push the issue, but she wasn't able to fix it, either.
So I gave them a call to get my name erased from every document they've ever had, so they can't call me and can't find my new apartment and can't keep texting me and asking if I'll meet their parents because no one's as pretty as I am. And they said I'm not listed on an account with them.
Great. I am, but I'm not. I'm listed enough for them to call me, but not enough for them to erase that listing. Sounds like a stalker ploy to me!
Please lose my number again, Verizon. Please stop thinking that we "had something special." Don't make me get that restraining order.
Because I will.
Friday, June 19, 2009
I Like TV
There, I said it.
We're not supposed to like TV, are we. Or maybe we can like certain shows, but we're not supposed to admit it when we just like to flop on the couch and watch whatever is on because it's on, and we're not that picky.
But I do. As a kid, I wanted to watch TV even when I was at my friends' houses. As an adult, when I have a choice between reading a book and watching TV, I'll usually choose watching TV. If there's a TV on in the room, I'll watch it (unless it's sports), which means I get almost nothing else done when the TV is on.
As with just about everything else that came naturally to me, I spent most of my life beating myself up for this and trying to fight it. I've lived without a set at various points, during which I read a lot. I actually think reading and watching TV use similar parts of my brain. Both provide fodder for my own imagination, and I daydream a lot.
I guess that's about all I've got as far as analysis goes. That's OK.
We're not supposed to like TV, are we. Or maybe we can like certain shows, but we're not supposed to admit it when we just like to flop on the couch and watch whatever is on because it's on, and we're not that picky.
But I do. As a kid, I wanted to watch TV even when I was at my friends' houses. As an adult, when I have a choice between reading a book and watching TV, I'll usually choose watching TV. If there's a TV on in the room, I'll watch it (unless it's sports), which means I get almost nothing else done when the TV is on.
As with just about everything else that came naturally to me, I spent most of my life beating myself up for this and trying to fight it. I've lived without a set at various points, during which I read a lot. I actually think reading and watching TV use similar parts of my brain. Both provide fodder for my own imagination, and I daydream a lot.
I guess that's about all I've got as far as analysis goes. That's OK.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Grand Day Out
Today was our company's "Day Out," basically a picnic. And we got real sun for the first time in a while, so that was great! I participated in the goofy team games because the winning team wins a free day off. I'd play full-contact football for a free day off. OK, maybe not, but I'd definitely do that game where you have to place your head on an upright baseball bat, run around said bat 6 times, and then try to run back to your teammates.
Well, my team (The Soggybottoms) didn't win the day off, and my smack-talking coworker's team did (he promised to think of me while he was on the beach with his tequila). But I did come away with a little sumthin' sumthin' to remember my day away from my desk. I got a teal bandana, several grass stains (wiped out after that bat spin), and a possible sunburn (we'll see tomorrow morning).
It's been a while since I was a kid, but if I remember correctly, that makes it a good day.
Well, my team (The Soggybottoms) didn't win the day off, and my smack-talking coworker's team did (he promised to think of me while he was on the beach with his tequila). But I did come away with a little sumthin' sumthin' to remember my day away from my desk. I got a teal bandana, several grass stains (wiped out after that bat spin), and a possible sunburn (we'll see tomorrow morning).
It's been a while since I was a kid, but if I remember correctly, that makes it a good day.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sword Fights and Tight Pants! (Unsurprisingly, the Band, Queen, is Involved)
My roommates and I watched the original Highlander movie this weekend. I got the "immortal" edition DVD set from the library, which includes Queen videos from the soundtrack. Sheer '80s awesomeness.
As for the movie itself, it helps if you know what it's about before you see it -- which I did, thanks to a few random epsisodes of the subsequent TV show from the '90s, viewed on some lazy Saturdays in my college dorm. So, in the spirit of helpfulness, here you go:
There are these immortal guys who can't die unless their heads get cut off. They have a kind of Spidey sense about when another immortal is in the vicinity. There's no rule saying they can't be friends with each other, but there is a rule saying there can be only one in the end, so most of them try to cut off the heads of the others with swords. If one immortal cuts off the head of another, he gets to soak up the dead one's power in a nifty lightning show called The Quickening. Being immortal has its drawbacks, because you outlast your spouse(s) and you have to keep assuming new identities, but it's fun because you get to enjoy changing fashions throughout the centuries. (If you make it to the 1980s and you're Freddie Mercury, this includes tight pants and phallic microphone stands.) The movie focuses on one immortal named MacLeod, who was born in the Scottish highlands, which is why it's called Highlander. Early on in his life, he discovers he can't die after fighting a Russian immortal who wears this really cool animal-skull hat. My roommate Adam wants one.
As for the movie itself, it helps if you know what it's about before you see it -- which I did, thanks to a few random epsisodes of the subsequent TV show from the '90s, viewed on some lazy Saturdays in my college dorm. So, in the spirit of helpfulness, here you go:
There are these immortal guys who can't die unless their heads get cut off. They have a kind of Spidey sense about when another immortal is in the vicinity. There's no rule saying they can't be friends with each other, but there is a rule saying there can be only one in the end, so most of them try to cut off the heads of the others with swords. If one immortal cuts off the head of another, he gets to soak up the dead one's power in a nifty lightning show called The Quickening. Being immortal has its drawbacks, because you outlast your spouse(s) and you have to keep assuming new identities, but it's fun because you get to enjoy changing fashions throughout the centuries. (If you make it to the 1980s and you're Freddie Mercury, this includes tight pants and phallic microphone stands.) The movie focuses on one immortal named MacLeod, who was born in the Scottish highlands, which is why it's called Highlander. Early on in his life, he discovers he can't die after fighting a Russian immortal who wears this really cool animal-skull hat. My roommate Adam wants one.
Friday, June 12, 2009
A Dad's-Eye View of "Emergency"
In anticipation/celebration of Father's Day:
I was talking to my brother on the phone yesterday and asked him how his son was. I'd seen my sister-in-law's status update on Facebook a couple days before saying that the kid had been to the emergency room, so I wondered what was up. Bro said it was "just a fever," and everything was fine. Then I heard him say -- and it sounded like this was more to his wife than to me -- "Well, it's not like he lost an arm or anything."
And, there you have it. It doesn't look like it's derailed Junior's future career as a professional athlete and astrophysicist, so it's all good.
I'm trying to remember one of the times I got hurt when my dad was the only parent home. They can't have been that traumatic if they're not coming immediately to mind, but I'm pretty sure there weren't a lot of offers to "kiss it and make it better." The help I got would have been more along the lines of, "Can you walk? How many fingers am I holding up? OK, then." Or, more likely (and I do remember this), "If you want, I can drop this shot-put on your foot to take your mind off that headache."
It's easy to say this is a Dad Thing, but I was actually thrown by an incident several years ago when I was visiting my grandmother. We were looking around her old attic, and when I stood up straight I sent my head right into a nail poking out of the ceiling, pointy-side-out. Impaled! Aaaaaa! Blood! Surely Granna would freak!
Nope.
She was all calm. I was kind of offended, really. I mean, what if I got gangrene and died? It's a head injury! I know I don't use my head that much, but it at least keeps me from bumping into things (nails excepted). Isn't this a big deal?
I think I may have figured out how my grandmother, who doesn't like me to go outside at night ever, and who wants me to keep my car doors locked while driving, is somehow unfazed by the nail-head combo: She's a farm girl. Her parents had a plane that they flew into town. Even when her eyesight was so bad that she was declared legally blind, she recognized an ancient piece of equipment on our property as a side-feed rake. Big-city dangers are strange to her. But if you get yourself injured at the homestead, then you drag yourself to the barn, improvise a tourniquet, and hope the hired hands don't eat all the dumplings before you hobble your way to the dinner table.
Honestly, I think it's good to have a balance of grown-ups around. One who feels your pain, one who tells you to walk it off and get on with your life.
And all of them to tell you, "If you ever do anything that stupid again, I'll kill you."
I was talking to my brother on the phone yesterday and asked him how his son was. I'd seen my sister-in-law's status update on Facebook a couple days before saying that the kid had been to the emergency room, so I wondered what was up. Bro said it was "just a fever," and everything was fine. Then I heard him say -- and it sounded like this was more to his wife than to me -- "Well, it's not like he lost an arm or anything."
And, there you have it. It doesn't look like it's derailed Junior's future career as a professional athlete and astrophysicist, so it's all good.
I'm trying to remember one of the times I got hurt when my dad was the only parent home. They can't have been that traumatic if they're not coming immediately to mind, but I'm pretty sure there weren't a lot of offers to "kiss it and make it better." The help I got would have been more along the lines of, "Can you walk? How many fingers am I holding up? OK, then." Or, more likely (and I do remember this), "If you want, I can drop this shot-put on your foot to take your mind off that headache."
It's easy to say this is a Dad Thing, but I was actually thrown by an incident several years ago when I was visiting my grandmother. We were looking around her old attic, and when I stood up straight I sent my head right into a nail poking out of the ceiling, pointy-side-out. Impaled! Aaaaaa! Blood! Surely Granna would freak!
Nope.
She was all calm. I was kind of offended, really. I mean, what if I got gangrene and died? It's a head injury! I know I don't use my head that much, but it at least keeps me from bumping into things (nails excepted). Isn't this a big deal?
I think I may have figured out how my grandmother, who doesn't like me to go outside at night ever, and who wants me to keep my car doors locked while driving, is somehow unfazed by the nail-head combo: She's a farm girl. Her parents had a plane that they flew into town. Even when her eyesight was so bad that she was declared legally blind, she recognized an ancient piece of equipment on our property as a side-feed rake. Big-city dangers are strange to her. But if you get yourself injured at the homestead, then you drag yourself to the barn, improvise a tourniquet, and hope the hired hands don't eat all the dumplings before you hobble your way to the dinner table.
Honestly, I think it's good to have a balance of grown-ups around. One who feels your pain, one who tells you to walk it off and get on with your life.
And all of them to tell you, "If you ever do anything that stupid again, I'll kill you."
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Opposite of Lumberg
I almost forgot to tell you all: The meeting with my boss went well! I came right out and told her about my interests -- the real ones, not the could-be-adapted-to-an-office-setting ones -- and she totally got it! She grew up doing theater and musicals, and she likes public speaking, too. She's one of those nice people who's actually happy to see an employee follow their dreams, even if that takes that employee far, far away from the company.
She said that for as long as I'm going to have a regular day job, it may as well be one that suits me better than what I'm doing now. So if I can find a job opening within the company that fits that bill, she'll help me out.
She even understands that I'm unlikely to be here forever.
I don't know if there will be anything at this company that will suit me better. I'm not even sure how to determine such a thing, as the job descriptions are so buzzwordy and unhelpful (what does "developing and executing marketing plans and strategies to maximize sales" actually mean?). But it feels pretty good to come clean and be not just acknowledged, but affirmed. I don't have to be fake or obsequious. And I got an "I see myself in you," which is usually a good sign, at least from a relational perspective. Especially because she's not a "devil wears Prada" character.
So, while I keep up with the improv and the singing lessons and the blog and the public speaking and looking into local Shakespeare companies (haven't mentioned that one yet, have I!), I'll be keeping my eye out for company jobs that somehow put these skills to use. Methinks the Marketing Department doth require an serving wench.
She said that for as long as I'm going to have a regular day job, it may as well be one that suits me better than what I'm doing now. So if I can find a job opening within the company that fits that bill, she'll help me out.
She even understands that I'm unlikely to be here forever.
I don't know if there will be anything at this company that will suit me better. I'm not even sure how to determine such a thing, as the job descriptions are so buzzwordy and unhelpful (what does "developing and executing marketing plans and strategies to maximize sales" actually mean?). But it feels pretty good to come clean and be not just acknowledged, but affirmed. I don't have to be fake or obsequious. And I got an "I see myself in you," which is usually a good sign, at least from a relational perspective. Especially because she's not a "devil wears Prada" character.
So, while I keep up with the improv and the singing lessons and the blog and the public speaking and looking into local Shakespeare companies (haven't mentioned that one yet, have I!), I'll be keeping my eye out for company jobs that somehow put these skills to use. Methinks the Marketing Department doth require an serving wench.
Inflicting Myself on More People
I emailed my pastor yesterday. Among other things, I thanked him for the encouragement he gave me regarding my talk and said I was interested in doing more. Today, along with a response from him, I also got an email from an associate pastor inviting me to be one of four people from the speaking class (which had, I don't know, about 20 people?) to give our mini-talks to the whole church. Yay! That's a few hundred people!
I don't know if the invitation is a result of my inquiry, or if I would have gotten it anyway. I want it to be the latter. I wonder why that is. I think I want to know that I earned something by merit, not just because I was even a mildly squeaky wheel. There's a big desire in me to feel invited. This applies to just about any setting, and I think it's one of the main reasons I'm a more natural performer and was slower to take to social interaction. When you perform, there's an agreement between you and the audience; they're there voluntarily, and it's up to you to give them a good show. But in social situations, somebody could just be humoring you and wishing they could go home and play with their guinea pigs.
Either way, though, I'll take the gig. I want to be brave enough to speak up and ask for things, so I'm not sorry I did.
So, folks, right now it's looking like July 26 will be the big day. That should give me time to get nervous again.
I don't know if the invitation is a result of my inquiry, or if I would have gotten it anyway. I want it to be the latter. I wonder why that is. I think I want to know that I earned something by merit, not just because I was even a mildly squeaky wheel. There's a big desire in me to feel invited. This applies to just about any setting, and I think it's one of the main reasons I'm a more natural performer and was slower to take to social interaction. When you perform, there's an agreement between you and the audience; they're there voluntarily, and it's up to you to give them a good show. But in social situations, somebody could just be humoring you and wishing they could go home and play with their guinea pigs.
Either way, though, I'll take the gig. I want to be brave enough to speak up and ask for things, so I'm not sorry I did.
So, folks, right now it's looking like July 26 will be the big day. That should give me time to get nervous again.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Upcoming Meeting
Howdy-do, folks. Thanks for all the encouragement regarding public speaking.
I'm about to take another step in that direction. A couple weeks ago, my boss talked to me and a coworker about career opportunities within the company -- not specific job openings, but various paths that people have taken. I mentioned that I have a few ideas about what I'm interested in and might be good at. You all know that what I'm interested in is music, theater, performace, writing, communication, comedy -- stuff like that. My job involves none of these things. Unless you count writing witty little emails. Anyway, I'm scheduled to meet with my boss tomorrow, and I intend to bring up these various interests.
I realize that our company does not have a Vaudeville Department (does it?), but I figure if I need to have a day job (and I do) while I explore all the stuff I really want to do, it might be nice to have a day job that suits me at least a little better than the one I have now. It's not awful, but it's not great. So I think the public speaking might be a nice compromise. That seems like the kind of skill a corporation might need. The writing would be useful, too, but as I work for a publisher populated with English majors, I don't think that really sets me apart. However -- again, being at a publisher populated with English majors -- I may be one of the few people willing to stand in front of a crowd and yak away.
I have some backup on this from the fellow who led our workshops a month ago. I emailed him today, telling him honestly that if he thought I had talent that I'd like to be able to tell my boss that he said so, and he said yes. Okey doke, then.
There was a teeny crash after last week's talk, because every time I take step like that, part of me hopes that my life will finally change, and then I wake up to see the same landscape stretching to the horizon. But the excitement is up again today, both at the encouragement from last month's coach, and at the prospect of taking this initiative with my boss.
I am wary of getting myself into a job where I'm just comfortable enough to stop pursuing my real dreams. But I'm not exactly close to that point.
I'm about to take another step in that direction. A couple weeks ago, my boss talked to me and a coworker about career opportunities within the company -- not specific job openings, but various paths that people have taken. I mentioned that I have a few ideas about what I'm interested in and might be good at. You all know that what I'm interested in is music, theater, performace, writing, communication, comedy -- stuff like that. My job involves none of these things. Unless you count writing witty little emails. Anyway, I'm scheduled to meet with my boss tomorrow, and I intend to bring up these various interests.
I realize that our company does not have a Vaudeville Department (does it?), but I figure if I need to have a day job (and I do) while I explore all the stuff I really want to do, it might be nice to have a day job that suits me at least a little better than the one I have now. It's not awful, but it's not great. So I think the public speaking might be a nice compromise. That seems like the kind of skill a corporation might need. The writing would be useful, too, but as I work for a publisher populated with English majors, I don't think that really sets me apart. However -- again, being at a publisher populated with English majors -- I may be one of the few people willing to stand in front of a crowd and yak away.
I have some backup on this from the fellow who led our workshops a month ago. I emailed him today, telling him honestly that if he thought I had talent that I'd like to be able to tell my boss that he said so, and he said yes. Okey doke, then.
There was a teeny crash after last week's talk, because every time I take step like that, part of me hopes that my life will finally change, and then I wake up to see the same landscape stretching to the horizon. But the excitement is up again today, both at the encouragement from last month's coach, and at the prospect of taking this initiative with my boss.
I am wary of getting myself into a job where I'm just comfortable enough to stop pursuing my real dreams. But I'm not exactly close to that point.
Friday, June 05, 2009
Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition
Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency...
Fear: My own. Surprise: Other people's. Ruthless efficiency: Getting in under time (hey, as far as I know).
My talk went well! I don't know if I went under time, but I have a pretty good sense for that and I think I was OK. It turns out the biggest reason they wanted us to keep the length under control is so we could get through all the speakers in one night without staying up till midnight. We did go one hour over, but that seemed OK. And I don't think it was my talk that did it. Unless you count the half-hour they spent lavishing praise on me ;-).
OK, probably not that much. But they did seem pretty enthusiastic. We were supposed to start the critiquing bit with Stuff We Liked, followed by Stuff We Would Have Liked to See More Of. But nobody seemed to have anything to put in that second bucket after my talk, even my pastor. Neato torpedo. The closest they came was telling me about stuff they almost had a problem with, but then I answered it later in the talk, so it was all good. Oh, and one guy said he was so busy being entertained that he forgot to listen for ways he could apply the talk to himself. But then he said that wasn't a bad thing, either, and the pastor agreed.
One guy in particular seemed surprised by me. I'm not sure what it was, but this has happened to me before, even as a trombone player. (I remember a guitar player, who had already heard me play in ensembles, was surprised when I pulled off a solo. And I think some folks were cheerfully taken aback when I, a girl, even knew which end of the horn to put up to my face.) I don't know if I still manage to come off as shy and demure in social situations (which, OK, I can be), or if people assume that I'm probably not going to be great at things, or what. Or -- here's the pipe-dream hope -- maybe I'm just so awesome that there's no way anyone could have seen it coming. Let's go with that. Anyway, the sheer shock of me in performance situations seems to really work in my favor, which is OK with me.
As for the praise -- and absence of real criticism -- my pessimistic and fearful brain naturally looked for the faults, or the chinks in others' compliments. But the fact is, I was the only one they didn't have criticism for, and it's not because they thought I was too fragile to take it, because they were happy to throw jokes my way (always a compliment in my book), and there was another girl, far quieter than I, to whom they did give constructive criticism. Their lists of compliments for me were long and effusive, something they weren't so much for each other. And their observations were consistent with what I've heard from other people, and also feel to be true myelf: I have lot of energy when I speak. Also, I've spent so much time analyzing my own thoughts that I'm effective in expressing them, and letting people into my thought process seems to impact them in positive ways (good to hear, because my process can be pretty brutal to my own heart).
It's kind of a big deal for me to dispense with the false humility and come right out and say that I think I'm good at this sort of thing. I do hope I get more opportunities to do it. It's scary, opening my brain for others to see. It's scary even when I do it in my blog. But I've been stockpiling musings for 34 years now, and they've got to go somewhere.
Fear: My own. Surprise: Other people's. Ruthless efficiency: Getting in under time (hey, as far as I know).
My talk went well! I don't know if I went under time, but I have a pretty good sense for that and I think I was OK. It turns out the biggest reason they wanted us to keep the length under control is so we could get through all the speakers in one night without staying up till midnight. We did go one hour over, but that seemed OK. And I don't think it was my talk that did it. Unless you count the half-hour they spent lavishing praise on me ;-).
OK, probably not that much. But they did seem pretty enthusiastic. We were supposed to start the critiquing bit with Stuff We Liked, followed by Stuff We Would Have Liked to See More Of. But nobody seemed to have anything to put in that second bucket after my talk, even my pastor. Neato torpedo. The closest they came was telling me about stuff they almost had a problem with, but then I answered it later in the talk, so it was all good. Oh, and one guy said he was so busy being entertained that he forgot to listen for ways he could apply the talk to himself. But then he said that wasn't a bad thing, either, and the pastor agreed.
One guy in particular seemed surprised by me. I'm not sure what it was, but this has happened to me before, even as a trombone player. (I remember a guitar player, who had already heard me play in ensembles, was surprised when I pulled off a solo. And I think some folks were cheerfully taken aback when I, a girl, even knew which end of the horn to put up to my face.) I don't know if I still manage to come off as shy and demure in social situations (which, OK, I can be), or if people assume that I'm probably not going to be great at things, or what. Or -- here's the pipe-dream hope -- maybe I'm just so awesome that there's no way anyone could have seen it coming. Let's go with that. Anyway, the sheer shock of me in performance situations seems to really work in my favor, which is OK with me.
As for the praise -- and absence of real criticism -- my pessimistic and fearful brain naturally looked for the faults, or the chinks in others' compliments. But the fact is, I was the only one they didn't have criticism for, and it's not because they thought I was too fragile to take it, because they were happy to throw jokes my way (always a compliment in my book), and there was another girl, far quieter than I, to whom they did give constructive criticism. Their lists of compliments for me were long and effusive, something they weren't so much for each other. And their observations were consistent with what I've heard from other people, and also feel to be true myelf: I have lot of energy when I speak. Also, I've spent so much time analyzing my own thoughts that I'm effective in expressing them, and letting people into my thought process seems to impact them in positive ways (good to hear, because my process can be pretty brutal to my own heart).
It's kind of a big deal for me to dispense with the false humility and come right out and say that I think I'm good at this sort of thing. I do hope I get more opportunities to do it. It's scary, opening my brain for others to see. It's scary even when I do it in my blog. But I've been stockpiling musings for 34 years now, and they've got to go somewhere.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Tonight's the Night
I guess I can't help myself -- lately I'm all about the the suggestive blog titles for posts that are ultimately completely innocent.
Tonight's the night we all give the 10-minute talks we've prapared for the public speaking class I'm taking. I've mostly just gone over it in my head, and I always go over time, but that could be because I get distracted and sidetracked by my own mental meanderings. When I ran through it for my roommate last night, he timed me and I did it in seven minutes. Woo! Of course, I was talking kind of fast, and he said he missed some of what I said because he wanted to pause and think about the last thing I'd said. That's a good sign -- I must have said one or two things worth thinking about, then. I just need to pace it a bit slower instead of trying to squeeze things into a short span of time.
I don't plan on using notes, which wasn't my original intention. But I wasn't sure what to put in those notes, and I might feel pressure to cover everything. I have a few points in my head, and those are memorized, so I'm going to go noteless. That may sounds reckless, but I'm not a reckless person and I'm actually confident about my decision. I've also spent the last two weeks preparing, so it's not like I'm winging it. I have something to say, lessons I've learned by living through them, and I'm OK with each run-through being different.
I was already starting to plan what I wanted to talk about when we were given choices of topics. Fortunately, one of the topic choices was kind of related to what I'd been thinking about, so I made the twain meet. My talk will be called "God Cares about Your Work," a title we were assigned. (The other choices were Psalm 23 or something to do with your job or whatever situation you need public speaking skills for, but my job has nothing to do with public speaking and I was already preoccupied with the idea of careers and dreams, so "Work" it was.)
Because it seems a little mean to tell you about my talk without telling you anything about my talk, here's a skeletal synopsis of my points:
* I've had to let go of the dreams I'd had since I was a girl, and several years later am still in process in the career department.
* For me, work and dreams are inseparable, even when they're miles apart in my day-to-day life. According to Psalm 37:4, God cares about the desires of our hearts. (The verse itself says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.")
* There's substantial biblical precedent for long periods of waiting between having a dream or getting a promise from God, and actually seeing it fulfilled. That waiting is part of the growth process that comes with being human, and though it feels like a detour or even a complete derailment, it's actually getting us where we want to go.
* We can be overwhelmed with questions and uncertainty and fear of making mistakes. But I'm learning that mistakes aren't an unfortunate byproduct of this process; they are the process. God isn't teaching me not to make mistakes, but how to make them.
* I used to torture myself by obsessing over all my questions (e.g. "Are all the things lacking in my life the result of things that are lacking in me?"), because I thought grappling with the questions would get me answers. It's hard to get through a workday this way. Eventually I realized it wasn't getting me those answers, and that I was just torturing myself. It was simply unhelpful, so I gave myself permission to stop. It took practice to stop that circular negative thinking, but, interestingly, torturing myself less has led to my feeling less tortured.
* Looking back over the last 8 1/2 years, I can see purpose in what God has been up to. Having music out of the way has made room for God to dig up dreams I'd shoved aside and forgotten when I made the decision at age 12 to pursue music professionally. And that rediscovery process has been fun. It's like getting a dream upgrade. I'm excited about my future, and that wasn't the case for a long time. I'm getting glimpses of what might be in store for me, and as I allow myself to be jazzed about those possibilities, I find I'm delighting in the God who's making it happen. Hey, was I just finding God delightful? Isn't that what the Bible verse talks about? In the greater context of the Psalm, I think God is basically encouraging us to hang in there with Him, so we can be around as He proves Himself faithful. And I'm looking forward to watching how He does it.
OK, that's not so skeletal.
But hopefully it'll take less than ten minutes. I'd hate to be a diva ;-).
Tonight's the night we all give the 10-minute talks we've prapared for the public speaking class I'm taking. I've mostly just gone over it in my head, and I always go over time, but that could be because I get distracted and sidetracked by my own mental meanderings. When I ran through it for my roommate last night, he timed me and I did it in seven minutes. Woo! Of course, I was talking kind of fast, and he said he missed some of what I said because he wanted to pause and think about the last thing I'd said. That's a good sign -- I must have said one or two things worth thinking about, then. I just need to pace it a bit slower instead of trying to squeeze things into a short span of time.
I don't plan on using notes, which wasn't my original intention. But I wasn't sure what to put in those notes, and I might feel pressure to cover everything. I have a few points in my head, and those are memorized, so I'm going to go noteless. That may sounds reckless, but I'm not a reckless person and I'm actually confident about my decision. I've also spent the last two weeks preparing, so it's not like I'm winging it. I have something to say, lessons I've learned by living through them, and I'm OK with each run-through being different.
I was already starting to plan what I wanted to talk about when we were given choices of topics. Fortunately, one of the topic choices was kind of related to what I'd been thinking about, so I made the twain meet. My talk will be called "God Cares about Your Work," a title we were assigned. (The other choices were Psalm 23 or something to do with your job or whatever situation you need public speaking skills for, but my job has nothing to do with public speaking and I was already preoccupied with the idea of careers and dreams, so "Work" it was.)
Because it seems a little mean to tell you about my talk without telling you anything about my talk, here's a skeletal synopsis of my points:
* I've had to let go of the dreams I'd had since I was a girl, and several years later am still in process in the career department.
* For me, work and dreams are inseparable, even when they're miles apart in my day-to-day life. According to Psalm 37:4, God cares about the desires of our hearts. (The verse itself says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.")
* There's substantial biblical precedent for long periods of waiting between having a dream or getting a promise from God, and actually seeing it fulfilled. That waiting is part of the growth process that comes with being human, and though it feels like a detour or even a complete derailment, it's actually getting us where we want to go.
* We can be overwhelmed with questions and uncertainty and fear of making mistakes. But I'm learning that mistakes aren't an unfortunate byproduct of this process; they are the process. God isn't teaching me not to make mistakes, but how to make them.
* I used to torture myself by obsessing over all my questions (e.g. "Are all the things lacking in my life the result of things that are lacking in me?"), because I thought grappling with the questions would get me answers. It's hard to get through a workday this way. Eventually I realized it wasn't getting me those answers, and that I was just torturing myself. It was simply unhelpful, so I gave myself permission to stop. It took practice to stop that circular negative thinking, but, interestingly, torturing myself less has led to my feeling less tortured.
* Looking back over the last 8 1/2 years, I can see purpose in what God has been up to. Having music out of the way has made room for God to dig up dreams I'd shoved aside and forgotten when I made the decision at age 12 to pursue music professionally. And that rediscovery process has been fun. It's like getting a dream upgrade. I'm excited about my future, and that wasn't the case for a long time. I'm getting glimpses of what might be in store for me, and as I allow myself to be jazzed about those possibilities, I find I'm delighting in the God who's making it happen. Hey, was I just finding God delightful? Isn't that what the Bible verse talks about? In the greater context of the Psalm, I think God is basically encouraging us to hang in there with Him, so we can be around as He proves Himself faithful. And I'm looking forward to watching how He does it.
OK, that's not so skeletal.
But hopefully it'll take less than ten minutes. I'd hate to be a diva ;-).
Monday, June 01, 2009
Busy Bee
Hi Everybody,
I know, I'm not posting a ton at the moment. I've been quite busy! Some fun stuff. It's just that it happened to come together in a big clump, at least temporarily. So you can be happy for me with all my neat activities (and perhaps have a good chuckle at the thought of me trying some of them), here's some of what I'm up to:
Public speaking class at church
Singing lessons
Improv (you knew that one already, though)
See? I'm pushing on different doors to see what happens. And there's other stuff in my future. I'm doing a movement/dance/physical theater camp-for-grown-ups kind of thing for a week in July. And I'm thinking some regular, dramatic, non-improv acting classes could be really fun.
So, basically anything that involves an audience is intriguing to me. Well, not everything. I probably won't try pole dancing anytime soon. But it's pretty obvious that that falls into a different category: activities that would actually make me some money.
I know, I'm not posting a ton at the moment. I've been quite busy! Some fun stuff. It's just that it happened to come together in a big clump, at least temporarily. So you can be happy for me with all my neat activities (and perhaps have a good chuckle at the thought of me trying some of them), here's some of what I'm up to:
Public speaking class at church
Singing lessons
Improv (you knew that one already, though)
See? I'm pushing on different doors to see what happens. And there's other stuff in my future. I'm doing a movement/dance/physical theater camp-for-grown-ups kind of thing for a week in July. And I'm thinking some regular, dramatic, non-improv acting classes could be really fun.
So, basically anything that involves an audience is intriguing to me. Well, not everything. I probably won't try pole dancing anytime soon. But it's pretty obvious that that falls into a different category: activities that would actually make me some money.
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