aubreii.com

It’s Called ACTING

Dec
31

I have kind of been dreading coming here.  Ugh ugh ugh to the feeling that I’m just waxing philosophical, mommy blogging myself into boring, pointless oblivion.  But I guess that means my life is just boring.  And I don’t post enough for this to be a ‘mommy blog’.  Either way, this so far hasn’t been a ‘Lit’ (as Rosie would say) bit of the internet.  OH WELL.  Go away then.

June is finally walking with some confidence, and it’s great.  She had a play date today with her friend Sydney and they played really well together.  Unless he touched her water bottle.  Gents be warned, this lady doesn’t share her water.  She displayed the same pterodactyl-like screeching abilities as Ari as she defended it.  Poor Sydney.

For Christmas, Nick got me Acting Lessons at the Actor’s Loft in Royal Oak. The last acting lessons I had were at the Civic Theater in Grand Rapids when I was still young enough to be dropped off by my mom.  I honestly have no idea if I was 8 or 15.  What I do remember is the rawness of being a fool in front of strangers, the freedom of needing confidence and finding it by being more brash, more loud than everyone else.  The absolute glory of realizing I was maybe good.

And maybe I wasn’t.  Maybe I was having my Florence Foster Jenkins moment that surely we ALL must have at some point.  Maybe the rest of my group was cringing and holding their breath until we separated so they could congratulate each other on their natural talent while that silly blond girl floundered like a fish out of water.  That part is irrelevant.

What was important was how amazing it all FELT. Playing silly improv games and discovering ‘animal essence’ in this dusty, magical back room buried in the guts of the nearly 100-year-old theater, glowing ochre sunlight flooding the room, life had never felt more perfect.

I went on to get as involved in theater as I could in high school, and until the worst of what I can now easily call at least mild depression hit during my Junior year, I lived for those moments spent on stage.  What a wonderful thing, for people to just enjoy watching you do something you absolutely loved.  (Though now that I have lived on the other side of school performances, it is possible that very few of the people in the audience were enjoying anything.)

Life after school was a quick and hefty whirlwind of early marriage, babies, lots of work, moving, staying afloat, and for me, lots and lots of daydreaming and trying to write (my more accessible but questionably second passion).  But I haven’t ever forgotten the draw of the damn theater.

The very last ‘acting’ anything I was involved in was the 48 Hour Film Project, and that was as a writer.  It wasn’t nearly as fulfilling or interesting as any of my (very limited) acting experiences.

So we will see how this goes.  I’m nervous and distracted with the rest of my crazy life.  I can’t imagine trying to do anything like this for myself now.  This is probably just an exercise in making myself look ridiculous.

But hey, I’ll have something to write about.  So you can all quit complaining.  🙂

 

Fools, by Neil Simon

Fools, by Neil Simon ~ Maybe 1996?  I was the blonde

 

 

Spiders

Dec
08

I think spiders have been this year’s theme. We had our giant monster spider living on one entire half of the back deck for part of the summer, porch spiders that we watched torture like-sized bugs, and more than a few times I was called into the shower (by Eddie AND Rosie) to kill shower spiders. Yesterday I woke up at 3 a.m. to five swollen, itchy bites along my exposed thigh. If I hadn’t woke up and freaked out in the apropriate manner I would most likely have been eaten alive.

And that little bastard is still roaming around the house. Probably my bedroom. My live and let live philosophy is being tested. A. F.

Not that I have much choice in the matter. We’re talking about something the size of a quarter, at best. And we all know how well I keep track of money.

I want to vow to kill all of the little bastards mercilessly upon sight. But today in the bathroom there was a pale, unsuspecting and small specimen crawling underneath the vanity.

And I couldnt kill him. He just looked so innocent, doing his own thing.

He will probably attack again tonight. I hate being a sucker.