Being twenty-six. Going where no twenty-something has gone before.

There have been only a few stages of my life where I noticed a massive physical and mental change occur. At thirteen I knew my life from there on out would be hugely different. At eighteen, I knew my childhood had gone and I panicked. I truly felt I wouldn’t survive as an adult. The transition was terrifying.

But I made it to twenty-six. And, again, I sense another major shift in my body and mind. I have confidence now that I can survive the adult world and be happy in it. At twenty-six, working is addicting, even though I am worn out faster. Going out is less appealing as it is to going home and spending time with myself. Of course, this is surely the result of being ridiculously busy.

At twenty-six, all-nighters are no longer easy to do. Coffee no longer keeps me awake, but remains a comfort in the morning.

At twenty-six, I finally obtained a Victoria Secret body, something I had been obsessed with and working on since I was sixteen. And, although my body is stronger than it has ever been, it hurts more. My lower back is now a constant pain and my right knee is weak. Vitamins have become a part of my daily life. And I have high-cholesterol, shocking news that somehow made me feel old. And yet, at twenty-six, I’m still arrogant and carefree.

I’m much more curious and brave at this stage. I want more and more to go where I have never gone before and experience new things. If I can live through it, I want to do it.

Finally I feel a confidence in myself I had never had before. My beliefs and opinions on how to live one’s life is richer and more well-rounded than the days of being naïve and close-minded. I am more fascinated with the way people react and feel, and I’m always searching for newer information. I still feel like I haven’t learned enough.

Emotion is something I have FINALLY been able to make sense of and control. I can rationalize better than I’ve ever had. When I don’t like someone, or they me, I can accept and be okay with it. Because it is impossible to be universally liked. However, treating those you don’t get along with graciously is important.

I have FINALLY learned to be patient, something I’ve been working on ALL my life. That’s an accomplishment I’m really happy about.

I am no longer in need of being needed by a man, as if I thought that gave me some purpose in my life before. It really didn’t.

On the other hand, I have also for the first time, experienced what it was like to be in love, something that had eluded me before. I lost it, but I crave to have it again. Although, strangely, I have no interest in looking for it, I am genuinely excited about finding it. I know now that I have the capability to feel that way, and it is incredible!

At twenty-six, I have come to accept my obsessive compulsive behavior as a unique and intriguing quality, although I may be the only one who feels this way.

And, even though I feel like I am still sixteen years old, in that youthful, playful sort of way, I am now accepted and taken seriously by the adult world. Something that I’ve yearned for most of my life.

Probably one of the most shocking discoveries I had come to realize was that I now want a child. Being someone who never liked or wanted children, I am still puzzled by this sudden change. Maybe by twenty-seven, I’ll go back to normal.

And maybe the reason I’m writing this is to put a mark in time so that when I’m old, I will remember. Hopefully this blog will still exist somewhere in cyberspace by then.

At twenty-six, I still don’t know where I’m going in my life, but instead of being scared by it, I am thrilled. Someone once told me their twenty-sixth year was a good one. I got a feeling, they’re gonna be right.

Thataway

Not even a year

So, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Many things have occurred since my last post. I have done numerous auditions for film and theater of all kinds. I also did an audition for the character Wonder Woman for Six Flags Magic Mountain. Warner Brothers and DC Comics had to approve of my appearance for Wonder Woman. Amazingly, I got the approval on top of being considered one of the best looking Wonder Women they’ve ever seen. If only they’d do a movie…

Also, I got cast in Roger’s and Hammerstein’s musical Cinderella. My first rehearsal was today and it felt great to be apart of a musical once again. Cinderella marks the first big show I’m apart of in California. Of course, I was in the monologue show called Sex, Relationships, and Sometimes Love, where I played a seductive, sexy rapist who lost interest in her prey, but that lasted only for a little while.

I feel pretty good about my almost first year in California. Although the only thing I realized after being here for nine months is that I haven’t made any close friends. And because of that, I’ve found it very lonely. One of my closest friends came to visit me recently and I noticed just how much I missed having good, close girlfriends. I had such a good time with Marilyn and her fiancé that I couldn’t help but feel sorry for myself. For the nine months of living here, I had failed to make any good friends. In reality, the closest friend I made was the Terminator, the man I had been seeing for, ironically, nine months, but since he decided to “terminate” the relationship, I found myself back at the beginning.

So, if that’s the case, I’ve always been good with beginnings. I think the one thing to learn from this is to make good friends first before anything else, otherwise you end up alone.

I’ve Had a Revelation…

…Just recently. While I was talking with my girlfriend Rachel on the phone earlier today, we got on the topic of suicidal thoughts.

...a blast of a second.

NOW DON’T FREAK OUT JUST YET!

She and I confide in each other our deepest dark sides, one of them being our crazy, spur-of-the-moment, suicidal thought-flashes. I call them thought-flashes because…that’s exactly what they are. Flashes shooting from one of end of the brain to the other in the blast of a second.

“Sometimes, while I’m driving,” I say to Rachel, this being nearly a year ago, “and maybe while I’m on a ramp, I have these sudden urges to drive my car off the edge and end it all.”

“Me too!” Rachel exclaims, probably relieved that she wasn’t the only one who had crazy flash-thoughts like that.

Earlier today, we reminisced on these thoughts, and then it occurred to me! I hadn’t had one of those flash-thoughts (at least in the suicidal sense) NOT ONCE since my move to California.

I used to have them consistently throughout my life…and if I am truly honest and look back from when it first started, these dark thoughts arose when I was only a kid in third grade…and had just moved to Arizona with my parents.

Now, granted I was a generally happy kid, with the occasional meltdowns here and there. But there’s nothing really RIGHT about suicidal thoughts. I can’t tell you what inspired them in the first place, but I can tell you they’ve finally disappeared. And that makes me very happy. I now cringe when remembering how I once thought like that, almost feeling like it was a whole ‘nother dimension.

Obviously I couldn’t be happier now that those thoughts have gone. For some people, it takes a person. For others, it takes a place. For me, it’s the place. 🙂

Who did WHAT to me?!?!

Below is a list of five people who impacted/affected my life within the past five years. Something I walked away with while knowing them.

Chris Cameron—motivation for academic straight-A’s when motivation was grim.

Marilyn Rodriguez—acquired the ability of defense (not taking shit).

Rachel Bruce—learned to listen.

Mathew Solace—learned to love…not necessarily romantic love, but unselfish love.

Anthony Garcia—real devotion and patience…not necessarily a strong trait in myself, but something I’m working towards because of.

Notice how I didn’t mention my parents. It’s because they could only teach me the general nuts and bolts of living. The rest, you begin to learn when learning from those outside your parental region.

Well, that’s my list, but there’s always more to come now that I’m meeting new people (like Michael Duisenberg—still learning…). S’why I love meeting new people. You never know what you’re gonna learn about yourself.

Who added to your learning of life? You’ll be surprised when you take the time to think about it.

2010: The Sequel! And…what should be my new Resolution?

Of course, I’m referring to the 80s film 2010 which precedes 2001: A Space Odyssey. Neither of these films actually foretold the future of the Millennium very well. We have not built a base on the Moon and have not found the answer to the beginning of intelligence on Earth.

However, once 2010 hits, a simple revelation will be made…sort of. Of course, I’m referring to myself. What else are blogs for but to write personal accounts, heavy opinions on topics that reside within my own brain, untouched and stubborn to the outside thoughts of others, but mildly interested and appreciative of those thoughts.

2010 is coming and so a whole new year will unfold. It was only a year ago when I was making my slow-crawling ascent from the depths of despair which I had somehow allowed myself to tumble down into. My New Year’s Resolution then was to go “whimming,” to start a whole new look at life, to find happiness when happiness seemed so foreign and far, to embark on adventures, to laugh and play, to DATE like no other had dated before! Allowing myself to be open in case lightning struck me hard, waking me from a dreamlike reality I had been escaping to.

I found it: the path to Happy Ville. I found the ability to not need too much, to use logic rather than emotion ( in simpler terms, I have found a way to become more Vulcan), to be more confident in my beliefs about life, to not be knocked down, and so on.

At the beginning of 2009, I was barely surviving my own destruction, deciding on writing being the only way out. I made the bestest (YES, bestEST) of friends I could ever think of having and had the pleasure of creating memories I will never forget.

In 2009, I discovered the life of dating many different types of guys, while finally slowing down with The Terminator, whom I also refer to as my manfriend.

In 2009, I finally found a home: California. I never thought I would feel so comfortable here as fast as I did. I still revel in the fact that people here actually pronounce my name correctly right off the bat, rather than always screwing it up as they did in Arizona. I always think that’s a sign I belong…

However, not everything is all peaches and cream. My grandfather, Papa, is dying, mentally and physically. Once the smartest man I knew, is now the weakest man I know. I thought it would frighten me that he couldn’t remember me or mom, but it hasn’t. I had come to accept this, along with the rest of my family. He may not last another year, and even if he did physically, he will have no memory left. He brought me up as a child, but he will not witness me become a wife, a mother, a successful person…It is weird to think about.

Nonetheless, I actually did conquer my previous New Year’s resolution. I found the motivation to keep up a consistent blog, I finally graduated college, I got the hell out of Arizona and didn’t get stuck in a place I never wanted to be, I found a drama-free living situation with roommates who are kind yet distant, I am interning in two places at once, both being apart of the entertainment industry, I have already done three different Red Carpet events, met Patrick Kilpatrick, and have developed friendships with wonderfully interesting and fun people.

Most importantly, I found where I belong. I found my Happy Place. I guess finding happiness is easier than losing weight…? At least it is for me—I like food too much.

Next New Year’s Res.? I am FINALLY READY to find Love!…Although, considering this is much harder to achieve than even losing weight, I might change it to Being Able To Quit BJ’s. Or maybe they shall both be my New Year’s Res.? What do you think? Which one should be my Resolution? Love or Quitting BJ’s? You tell me.

I hope all of you had your wishes come true this year. And even if they didn’t, or you feel disappointed in some part of your life, just remember, tomorrow is another day! (thank you, scarlet o’hara).

Sex, Love, and Success!

These three words may be the most complicated words in the human emotional dictionary. Each of us has our own personal definition or way of life for each of these words, and which is the right way and which is the wrong. I of course have my own uncommon perspective on what these words mean, and I will admit that I know my perspective will change as I get older and older.
Let me start with the word SUCCESS. Definitely a loaded word, but so are the words LOVE and SEX. Success has a multitude of “deep” meanings. Success is “trying not to please everybody” (Bill Cosby), is “going for your goal steadily and aiming for it unswervingly” (Cecil B. DeMille), is “to be able to spend your life in your own way” (Christopher Morley), is “finding your lifework in the work that you love” (David McCullough), is “the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm” (Sir Winston Churchill), and it “usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it” (Henry David Thoreau). The list of meanings goes on and on, but the real, straight-up definition of success is defined as “a degree or measure of succeeding; favorable or desired outcome; the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary).
As we all grow into the people we are being shaped to be, we are all faced with the fear of failing in whatever it is we are striving towards. Some of us are more fearful than others, have expectations that seem impossible to fulfill, and we are always standing on the edge of what-ifs and how-comes. Some of us have dreams that are never achieved and we feel we have failed in life because of it. I tell you that is not so. Things change and alter around us for a reason and it is how we react to those changes that determines our success. It is our fear of failing that will cause us to fail. The ability to overcome your fear will bring you success. That is what SUCCESS means to me. To live life without fear getting in the way.
Now it’s ironic that fear is the leading cause in failing in another area of life: the ability to LOVE. If you fear love, you fail love. Another loaded word. Here’s what the world thinks of love: “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” (Alfred Lord Tennyson); “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” (David Viscott); “One’s first love is always perfect until one meets one’s second love” (Elizabeth Aston); “All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built on sand” (Ella Wheeler Wilcox); “There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness” (Friedrich Nietzsche); and finally, “There is no remedy for love but to love more” (Henry David Thoreau).
In my current situation, I have had only one great love. But even then, as I look on it now, I don’t know if I was really in love or not. I have found that I don’t know what real love is or how it feels. I can’t seem to recognize it. So I go out and test my reactions to certain people by dating them. Some of them excite my physical side, others are intellectually fun to talk to, and some of them are the infamous arrogant bastards playing off as good guys. Can’t fool me! I can smell a sneaky asshole from miles away.
Finding out what love means for each and everyone of us takes a lifetime. So, if I could tell you what love means to me right now, I know that years down the road it will change again. So I can only tell you that, after careful observation of the chemical reactions in my body and mind that is closely related to what I consider “love,” this feeling of obsession and desire is very hard to find when masked by bitterness. After a messy breakup, bitterness takes its place, as much as some of us deny it, and won’t fade until desperation for love comes again. And when I say “desperation,” I’m talking really, really, really desperate. People can go a long time without falling in love again, feeling invincible to the potential heartbreak love brings. But even with all the bitterness I’m working on disintegrating from my heart, I know now that love is a decision, a “choice you make to want the best for the other person.” I heard that from somewhere, but I don’t remember where. I think I finally understand what it means.
Which leads me to the last complicated word: SEX. Love is most commonly related to the action of sex, or sometimes referred to as “making love.” Sex is also seen as “the act of love” even if the two people aren’t really IN LOVE—whatever that means—but it is a moment where people share a moment of tenderness.
This is how sex is seen by much wiser people than me: “I know nothing about sex because I was always married (Zsa Zsa Gabor); “In America, sex is an obsession. In other parts of the world, it’s a fact” (Marlene Dietrich); “A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she’s a tramp” (Joan Rivers); “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place” (Billy Crystal); “One thing I’ve learned in all these years is not to make love when you really don’t feel it; there’s probably nothing worse you can do to yourself than that” (Norman Mailer).
I was once a girl who wanted to wait until marriage so that sex was the gift I would give to my husband. I was very adamant about it, but then lost my V-card to a boy I thought I was madly in love—same old song and dance—after seven months into the relationship of both being virgins. I was 21 years old. After the relationship ended, I made myself promise that I wouldn’t have sex again until I was “in love”…again. Instead, I had a night with someone I cared very deeply about. My best friend. And it was also seven months in. Not that there’s a pattern, but I thought it interesting to mention. Then I moved to California and a week into it I had been asked out by The Terminator. By the second date, I gave into my desire for sex with him. Totally out of character for me! Because it wasn’t out of love that I had sex with him, but rather it was a moment of random passion. I realized then that my perspective on sex really had been completely altered. I’d overheard that after the end of your first serious relationship, the whole idea of love and sex changes. And so it did. Which surprises me and then…makes perfect sense.
There isn’t a sense of regret for any of it. Sex is still something I hold very special, but only for the one I choose it to be special with. The Terminator may have been a one time thing, because I still want to wait until I’m in love before doing it again. And falling in love for me is rare and numbered. So maybe, when the day finally comes where the feelings of obsession and happiness combine, where I can finally say “I am madly in love with you!” and it is returned, I will be successful in something everyone wants. Love plus sex. A success in of itself.
So there you have it. Some wise words explaining wise words from someone who’s learning to be…

These three words may be the most complicated words in the human emotional dictionary. Each of us has our own personal definition or way of life for each of these words, and which is the right way and which is the wrong. I of course have my own uncommon perspective on what these words mean, and I will admit that I know my perspective will change as I get older and older.

Let me start with the word SUCCESS. Definitely a loaded word, but so are the words LOVE and SEX. Success has a multitude of “deep” meanings. Success is “trying not to please everybody” (Bill Cosby), is “going for your goal steadily and aiming for it unswervingly” (Cecil B. DeMille), is “to be able to spend your life in your own way” (Christopher Morley), is “finding your lifework in the work that you love” (David McCullough), is “the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm” (Sir Winston Churchill), and it “usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it” (Henry David Thoreau). The list of meanings goes on and on, but the real, straight-up definition of success is defined as “a degree or measure of succeeding; favorable or desired outcome; the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary).

As we all grow into the people we are being shaped to be, we are all faced with the fear of failing in whatever it is we are striving towards. Some of us are more fearful than others, have expectations that seem impossible to fulfill, and we are always standing on the edge of what-ifs and how-comes. Some of us have dreams that are never achieved and we feel we have failed in life because of it. I tell you that is not so. Things change and alter around us for a reason and it is how we react to those changes that determines our success. It is our fear of failing that will cause us to fail. The ability to overcome your fear will bring you success. That is what SUCCESS means to me. To live life without fear getting in the way.

Now it’s ironic that fear is the leading cause in failing in another area of life: the ability to LOVE. If you fear love, you fail love. Another loaded word. Here’s what the world thinks of love: “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” (Alfred Lord Tennyson); “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” (David Viscott); “One’s first love is always perfect until one meets one’s second love” (ElizabethAston); “All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built on sand” (Ella Wheeler Wilcox); “There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness” (Friedrich Nietzsche); and finally, “There is no remedy for love but to love more” (Henry David Thoreau).

In my current situation, I have had only one great love. But even then, as I look on it now, I don’t know if I was really in love or not. I have found that I don’t know what real love is or how it feels. I can’t seem to recognize it. So I go out and test my reactions to certain people by dating them. Some of them excite my physical side, others are intellectually fun to talk to, and some of them are the infamous arrogant bastards playing off as good guys. Can’t fool me! I can smell a sneaky asshole from miles away.

Finding out what love means for each and everyone of us takes a lifetime. So, if I could tell you what love means to me right now, I know that years down the road it will change again. So I can only tell you that, after careful observation of the chemical reactions in my body and mind that is closely related to what I consider “love,” this feeling of obsession and desire is very hard to find when masked by bitterness. After a messy breakup, bitterness takes its place, as much as some of us deny it, and won’t fade until desperation for love comes again. And when I say “desperation,” I’m talking really, really, really desperate. People can go a long time without falling in love again, feeling invincible to the potential heartbreak love brings. But even with all the bitterness I’m working on disintegrating from my heart, I know now that love is a decision, a “choice you make to want the best for the other person.” I heard that from somewhere, but I don’t remember where. I think I finally understand what it means.

Which leads me to the last complicated word: SEX. Love is most commonly related to the action of sex, or sometimes referred to as “making love.” Sex is also seen as “the act of love” even if the two people aren’t really IN LOVE—whatever that means—but it is a moment where people share a moment of tenderness.

This is how sex is seen by much wiser people than me: “I know nothing about sex because I was always married (Zsa Zsa Gabor); “In America, sex is an obsession. In other parts of the world, it’s a fact” (Marlene Dietrich); “A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she’s a tramp” (Joan Rivers); “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place” (Billy Crystal); “One thing I’ve learned in all these years is not to make love when you really don’t feel it; there’s probably nothing worse you can do to yourself than that” (Norman Mailer).

I was once a girl who wanted to wait until marriage so that sex was the gift I would give to my husband. I was very adamant about it, but then lost my V-card to a boy I thought I was madly in love—same old song and dance—after seven months into the relationship of both being virgins. I was 21 years old. After the relationship ended, I made myself promise that I wouldn’t have sex again until I was “in love”…again. Instead, I had a night with someone I cared very deeply about. My best friend. And it was also seven months in. Not that there’s a pattern, but I thought it interesting to mention. Then I moved to California and a week into it I had been asked out by The Terminator. By the second date, I gave into my desire for sex with him. Totally out of character for me! Because it wasn’t out of love that I had sex with him, but rather it was a moment of random passion. I realized then that my perspective on sex really had been completely altered. I’d overheard that after the end of your first serious relationship, the whole idea of love and sex changes. And so it did. Which surprises me and then…makes perfect sense.

There isn’t a sense of regret for any of it. Sex is still something I hold very special, but only for the one I choose it to be special with. The Terminator may have been a one time thing, because I still want to wait until I’m in love before doing it again. And falling in love for me is rare and numbered. So maybe, when the day finally comes where the feelings of obsession and happiness combine, where I can finally say “I am madly in love with you!” and it is returned, I will be successful in something everyone wants. Love plus sex. A success in of itself.

So there you have it. Some wise words explaining wise words from someone who’s learning to be…

*all these quotes were taken from http://www.quotationspage.com/

Fall is coming and so is cabin fever.

It’s nearly been a month now and I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry to find friends before. It reminds me of my first semester at ASU where I didn’t know anybody and none of my classes ever gave an opportunity to make friends.

I suppose because I have now moved to a different state, where things are brand new, I want more than ever to have a good collection of friends to experience all the new things around me. Somewhere in the back of my head I’m scared that I’ll never have a good group of friends like I did my last year in college. Those kinds of friends a rare and hard to find.

I did, however, manage to make at least one friend, The Terminator. But because he’s an hour away, it makes it hard to enjoy spontaneous night outs.

The days are going by fast here and fall is approaching. It is beautiful out and the leaves are just starting to golden. And I wait patiently for something to happen…

How do you choose the right vs the wrong?

When all is well and good, where I have successfully kept myself out of trouble, staying out of relationships, keeping myself safe from heartbreak, guarding my heart and controlling my feelings, I’ve realized that I let one slip through the gates.

What do you do when you’re faced with a difficult decision, confusing and depressing? Where you can’t make sense of what you’re feeling? When you don’t know what to do anymore, and the answer that once was so clear is now so skewed?

Making decisions can suck
Making decisions can suck

Human feelings can suck and screw with logic. No wonder Vulcans look down upon us so. When we are faced with something we don’t want to do, but know is best in the long run, we delay the inevitable. We hold on to what we know we’ll lose. We run from what we know is coming. All the while, we go on with our daily lives, pretending there’s nothing to choose from.

I’ve found that I am exactly in this annoyingly difficult situation. I always knew it would come some day, where I would have to let go of my best friend, but I don’t think I knew just how hard it would be. Considering I’ve been through a lot of hard “letting go” situations, I thought this one would be easier to deal with.

But of course, it’s not easy, and while I convince myself and my feelings that I don’t know what to do anymore, somewhere in the back of mind the answer is glaring at me. I just don’t like it. So I don’t listen.

I’ve always hated making the big decisions. I never feel like I’ll make the right one. There have been many times where I’ve felt like I made a big mistake. But I suppose that’s how it is in most cases. I seem to always choose the bumpy road versus the smooth one. Maybe it’s my personality. I like the challenge rather than the simple. Who knows?

So I’ll leave it all up to God. Won’t claim any responsibility… Just kidding. 😉

But things like this really are out of our hands, and we should just pray and hope the answer is near.

Boys and Girls can’t just be friends…

Unless the boy is gay of course.

I’ve been very stubborn to admit this statement can be true. I mean, come on! I grew up with boys, felt more comfortable with them, and many times considered myself to be one of them. In fact, many of my closest friends were boys. There were a few years here and there where I actually asked my best “guy friend” if he would be my maid of honor (whenever the day would come I would actually get married). We had a good laugh about it. How it would be unheard of. And how I’d better find a husband who wouldn’t mind my bestest friend in the whole world to be another (straight) guy.

I believed I could pull it off having a sans-sexual-tension best friend relationship with the opposite sex. Of course, I always think I can pull anything off, be above and beyond the norm. I was a very stubborn thinker during my teens and to my early twenties. Now that I am nearing my mid-twenties and have attempted to continue this way of thinking, I’ve realized I made a mistake.

Years ago, I saw the film When Harry Met Sally, which is supposed to be a story about two opposite sexes trying to ignore the ultimate sexual attraction they have for one another. They indulge in relationships with other people and keep their best friend relationship. As the movie continues, their friendship gets more complicated (of course!) and lots of random fighting start to sour everything up. Ultimately something needs to change in their friendship, but I’m not going to say what it was in case you haven’t seen the movie. Don’t wanna spoil the ending. 🙂

It’s funny, these platonic relationships. Because someone always seems to be more attracted to the other and has to learn how to control their feelings in case of ruining the comfortable friendship they have (now when I say friendship, I’m talking about really close friendships; best friend status). In most cases, I’ve found that it’s always the guy who starts to feel the sexual tension for his best “female” friend. Usually, for the girl, it never occurs to her unless someone else says something like, “Hey, you guys look cute together…” and only then does the sex idea pop up into her head. Otherwise, usually the girl is completely clueless about her best friend’s attraction to her. Usually.

Where am I going with this? Well, what happens when those two friends start to explore their sexual attraction for one another, all the while trying to stay “just friends?”

Crap happens. The deeper, romantic and complicated feelings start to come out and if the relationship isn’t defined appropriately, the friendship becomes more troublesome and messy than it should be. Everything you once thought was clear becomes cloudy and confusing. And your best friend becomes the source of your problems, instead of the problem solver. There’s no getting away from it, and there’s no sense in denying it.

So what do you do? Seeing as I really don’t have the answer, I’m gonna have to admit that I don’t know. But what I can tell you is to do this: Take a deep breath, count to ten, and wait for the answer to come. You’ll only see it on a clear day.

Already been done…aw, shit.

So my mom and I went to see Julie&Julia, which was a very cute movie that made me very hungry, and then afterwards, my mom gave me the news.

Apparently, I don’t have very original ideas when concerning my blog. I’m moving to California in three days and I was planning on documenting my adventures as I pursue my career as an actor. Because this career is particularly grueling, I thought it would be a good idea, not only for me, but for other actors who might want encouragement, to read about the trials, challenges, and sometimes positive outcomes that a working actor experiences.

Well! It turns out it’s already been done. Not that I thought I’d be the ONLY one writing about the shit actors go through, but not only has this already been DONE, but the girl who had written it is now famous and making a movie out of her blog!! Which makes my plans completely obsolete!

At least, this is what my mom had heard.

So if I continue with my plan on writing about my adventures as an actor, who would care, because somebody else has already beaten me to it. And making a movie!! A MOVIE! Oh, please. I don’t see how it’s going to be any good. Reading about it is much more entertaining than watching it.

In any case, looks like I need a fresher idea.

But…knowing me…I’ll probably just stick with my original plan. Unless anyone else has any better ideas…whoever you are.