Tag Archives: friendships

For: The Pineapples & Crew 

16 Aug

This is a letter to my Crew…but it could be for yours too. 

…Times is hard, and you don’t need me to tell you that, the shit is being flung at us from all directions…we are all too aware of the circumstances. 

…And you know who is getting you through it: from your higher power to your bestie and Boo. I know my team, and I lean on them as they lean on me…a precarious fucking tent of life, struggling to make it from one day to the next, and I am so constantly grateful for them sticking out in the rain with me. 

…And I am constantly amazed by their strength and what we can accomplish together by throwing an entire team at whatever-the-hell new horror crosses our collective paths. I am honored by these people in their acceptance and support. I love these people, for all the reasons,  especially for what they consider their foibles and failings. 

I trust them. 

I trust them. 

I trust them. 

I say that three times,  because I trust almost no one. 

…For good reason.

…For the reasons that have ended other friendships,  and still continue to. 

…But not these ones. 

It is very very difficult, as I walk away from another unworthy friendship,  to continue to stay open to others. After all, trust is trust. Period. It is there or not. There is no gray area in opening your heart and soul to a person. And betrayal…it seems to pop up in one’s history time and again. One says, “I should have known,  I should have been more guarded. It’s my own damn fault. ”

….But instilling trust should not be a fault. 

Why do we make it one? 

Why must it be added to all the shit in the already long list of “be careful,  be watchful, be suspicious, beware? ”

That list is so fucking long…I’m tired of the fucking list. We are tired of the fucking list. It is exhausting and always there…never ends, never depleats, only is added onto. Constantly. 

…And as I all but have disappeared from Facebook,  and lack the ability to tweet, and attempt to align my Google Stream toward blissful innocents of all politics and horror-alerts, I see things like Nanette on Netflix, and am so arrested I watch it twice so I can hear it again. 

…It is brilliant and bold and beautiful and horrible. It is art of trauma in the being of one human, and it is real. And it is representative of a million stories…all totally different.

We are so many walking wounded. 

…And while the predators continue to circle new prey,  and we struggle to fight through our daily rough patches, I just wish that everyone could have the prayers and support that I am so blessed to have. It hasn’t and won’t prevent the unthinkable that life throws at you, but to have people who are there to help you get up off the ground, and regain some sense of dignity and humanity again. To have people who love you, no matter what…it is everything. 

Today is my 30th day sober. 

…For a variety of reasons, the drying out was a necessity. It will not be a forever-lifestyle, but it will be a serious tasking to monitor and be vigilant about the limitations of. 

…For the rest of my life. 

I’ve known it and ignored it too long. For personal reasons, I was finally pressed to acknowledge that acceptance. I don’t like it,  but I understand it to be, in fact,  the truth.  And I get to add that to my laundry list of broken bits that rattle around in my brain, feeding self doubt and blame and a sense of weakness and frustration. 

…I will never be Bette-Davis-awesome, swilling an entire bottle of whiskey in a sitting,  again.  I, in fact, do have a liver…made of: liver. And as dissapointed as that makes me — that is also a truth. 

…But there is still a group of friends and family on speed dial who pick up, whenever I float a “help, I’m an idiot ” text, who like me anyway. 

They love me,  actually. 

…How amazing is that?!? 

…No matter what!

And that helps. 

…In fact, that makes all of this possible. 

This 30 is to you.

…With love. 

(And devotion.)

Always, 

~D

Waving Goodbye, From A Speeding Train

31 Dec

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So little time to spend looking backwards today, as I have so much planning, cleaning, shopping,  errands, lines and rehearsal time to focus on instead. 

…Have been burning the midnight oil a lot this week, and have learned through the experience that leaving the daily post for end-of-the-night, poses a number of problems stemming mostly from sheer exhaustion, and residual libation levels. I thought I’d try the more sober attack by forcing the keys beneath my fingers BEFORE all the madness begins…even while my eyes dart around the room noting all the hundred little things I need to clean and prepare for tonight. Trying m’best not to get sidetracked. Also: I really could use coffee. Am beanless and trying to tell myself that black English tea will work just as well. We’ve already had this discussion ten or eleven million times and know that it won’t.

…Meanwhile, as all this shit goes rushing through my brain, and the “to do” list of the day grows even while I’m just sitting here, I wanna take a second, make a quick glance back at the 2012 calendar to appreciate the places I’ve been along its life travels. A year of time has earned it’s place in the spotlight I guess. If for nothing else, than just the fact that the Mayan’s were wrong: we’re still here…and its up to us now to write the future that they clearly got too tired (or bored with) to keep working at.

For one, SWAL was born in June: a new blogging platform, in a new community of creative thinkers and doers…and I enjoyed being a part of it so much that five months ago I pledged the Blog-a-Day challenge, even though I hate doing things in odds, or mid-way through. 

…Every time I see the badge on m’blog I still have to fight the discomfort of knowing I joined part way into a thing, so my full year of achievement doesn’t fall on everyone else’s…that I still have well over half a year to go before my achievement is complete, and will then have the most anti-climatic ticker tape parade-for-one, in all of time. 

Should I have waited to join up with the circus at the stroke of midnight tonight?  I dunno.  Maybe. My little OCD buddy would have preferred it that way. But somehow it just seems wrong to plan that far in advance to run off and join a circus.  One doesn’t really “plan” it, one just becomes suddenly (without explanation) consumed with the community, art and wonder of it, and never looks back.  Which is what I did.  So points to me for being brave and all.  But then sometimes, realizing what a shit-ton of work being in one means, is sorta a pain in the ass.  Like for instance, when it’s four in the morning and I still haven’t done my post for the day. Or when talking about finding a penny on the sidewalk is about the level of excitement I have to offer the SWAL universe at-large.  I’ll try to do better…which isn’t to insinuate I don’t try the other times.  But it is true, I prob’ly could be a little more self-aware of free topic matter floating around me day-to-day.

…So, I will.

Next: A short season for theatre after a bustling one the year before.  Much longer breaks in between gigs, as nothing seemed pressing me to invest what it takes to do a show, at the level I’ve come to enjoy and expect.  The roles mean more to me now than they used to…not just grabbing at shows to fill the space, with hope that I will come ’round to actually be emotionally “in” them.  First of all: theatre is a lot of goddamn work. And at the level I invest in it: it’s the kind of work equal to birthing a new baby every two-to-three months…a lot of times painful, and messy, and frustrating, but ultimately joyful with mad amounts of pride in the end result that all we birth-partners have achieved.  Of course, sometimes you have a total dud too.  But mostly…mostly its been a year of happy family time, with new friends, new lessons, and new realizations. 

…As I carry on with rehearsals for the first show of 2013 (opening in less than two weeks time), I can tell this’ll be a year of upping the stakes again, pushing harder and going further than the usual casting and comfort levels.  Which is a phenomenal “starting” point, not to be wasted.  So I won’t.  Which means I’ve got some serious show scouting and auditions to hit this year…prob’ly further out of town than I prefer…but it’s a thing I’m totally prepared, at this point, to do.

In Other News: This was the year when The BFF took flight again, gallivanting to the melting pot of L.A. for reasons that I intellectually totally understand, but still emotionally find completely and woefully fucked up.  I miss her all the time. Yet by some kind of magic, when she visits, it’s like she never left at all.  She’s learning things all the time, and changing, but not changing in the ways that matter most, (and what I secretly feared), knowing what a soul-sucking enterprise that that town is and will always be. 

…One need not worry about that with The BFF. 

…She was born at the age of 35, and only gained personal strength, purpose, insight, intensity and integrity since then.  She’s fine.  She will always be fine.  Even if her BFF is sitting here freaking out about the 20,000 ways of possible scenarios in which she might possibly NOT be.

…I fucking HATE it how she’s always right about shit.  (‘Cept when she’s wrong…which happens too, upon occasion…but only sometimes.)

2012 was also The Year Of The Marty. 

…This is in reference to a once in a lifetime event that occurs, which has great significance. Like seeing Halleys Comet. The last occurrence on this scale of magnificent glory happened during the original Year Of The BFF. It just means that fate said, “You don’t know it yet, but this person has mad power to consume your interest, beat the shit out of your wall-building defenses, will challenge you often, and bring you tons of joy.” All my friend soul mates and family in the past, have added a new most important member to the clan this year. For which I am ecstatically thankful and always will be. Which is as sappy at I’m gonna get about that. So shut up, and pass me the french fries…

…And in closing: This was the year of re-evaluations.

Acknowledging that palettes change several times within a lifetime, I spent several solid tracks of the year, exploring and re-visiting things that have never been my particular taste or track of enjoyment, but felt was time to revisit again, never-the-less. Where one or two new tastes were found having been acquired…there were definitely those of solid disgust which HAVE NOT altered in the least. I know now, that they just never will be my cup of tea. And with that comes a kind of guiltless freedom, as the proof that “I tried it” was there…oh, so very embarrassingly obvious for all to see, in some cases.

…So there was that.

…Several “theres” and several “thats.”

…And though I continue to struggle with one specific highly palatable, yet pro’bly still glutton-filled-fest of a bad idea, which seems to haunt me, going on years…at the moment, I’m able to be reasonable about it. Which means, “I win. For now.”

…And that’s something.

Happy last of the year, all!

…May your day of past reflection and happy expectation be an exploding cork from a good bottle of bubbly, to you all!

~D

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