Goodbye RGTC...

Last night I was a part of a reading of Seven Jewish Children by Carol Churchill. This was a benefit performance for medical aide for palestians. This was also the last thing to be done at my beloved Rude Guerrilla Theater Company. 30 or so of us past and current RG members stood in groups in 4 corners of the stage. Our soon to be mommy sat center stage. The play is in 7 different sections. In between each section were video segments. We each had about 4 or 5 lines throughout the show. Each section we'd take different parts around the stage standing or sitting and read our lines. At the end of the piece the 2nd to last line "Tell her we love her" - each one of us separatly walked up to mommy and said the line to her. Some hugging, some kissing, touching - me personally touched baby Bella with tears in my eyes as I choked out my line. It was beautiful. The emotion in the theater that night was intense. I had no idea I'd be such a wreck. My Alexander came up and hugged me and held me as we waited for the applause both of us with crocidile tears rolling down our cheeks. I dont think any of us had a dry eye.

Immediatly afterward I went out back and shook with tears. My creative home is no longer.

It is a transition. I look foward to another collective group already in the works by our former AD. But this was hard.

I was a part of the very 1st show RG ever did. I left for a few years then came back. Served as liason for a year, then joined the board only resigning last year when my life took its nasty turn. My baby Beirut was produced there. I got to play a fuckdog, a sociopath killer, a 60's icon, a lesbian, a hot elf and Mrs. Claus, a bitter wife, a struggling newlywed, a Bosnian little sister, Blue, a Marilyn Monroe new yorker, and more. I made some of my closest most dearest friends there. I shed so much blood, sweat and tears there. I actually sang onstage.

It seems my life is taking some major blows lately. LOTS of transition. LOTS of change. I know this will be good, and new but right now its hard. I think last night the dams broke. I cried harder last night as I drove home then I have in a long while. So many hugs and tears last night but so much encouragement. Looking forward to new things. A new life. I'm trying so hard to take this in stride. Lets just say my life is a helluva roller coaster right now and I'm hanging on for dear life.

Goodbye Rude Guerrilla. A part of my heart will always be with you.

Now onto the next phase. Hang on for the ride....

The Rich...

I'm not.
Nor will I ever be.
Nor will I ever fit in this scene.
Now this little blog isnt about all rich people. Just the pompous interesting ones. There are people out there with loads of money who are actually pretty cool peeps. These are usually the people that worked for it and were not born into it.
Anywhoo...
I really do find this species interesting. The way they are. The way they live thier life. The way thier priorities fall. Its interesting. What really makes me laugh, is sometimes when you see a "rich pompous" character played on TV you'd think they were over acting somewhat. They're not. I used to work for the opera - the patrons were majority upper class rich old people. There were a few young ones scattered in the mix. I now work for a similar organization and worked an event last nite. I found the people watching amusing.
The older folk reminded me very much of our opera patrons - old money. In fact some of them were opera patrons. There are 2 types here - the old ones that know they're old and accept it. These are usually couples that are pretty mellow. They have money. They love these events. They come, support, and leave. Then there's the old ones that think they're 20. Both the men and women have had so much work done they look somewhat stretchy and plasticy, lots of makeup - the ladies in lots of shiny material - the men hitting on us young women. I'm used to this. I used to see those people all the time. But last nite there were alot more youngins in the group. 1st off - a hubby/wife were volunteering with us. They apparently know alot of the folks and I assume they have money. The wife had a gf that also volunteered. Both women were very pretty and you could tell they came from money. My feline hairs immediatly stood up as I dreaded the thought of working alongside of 2 rich bitches. Especially after the hubby barked some orders at me - the way he did making me wonder if wifey knew her hubby was gay. I'm new people - lay off. 1st impressions can be wrong. As the evening wore on - I really grew to like the ladies and even the hubby. I chalk up 1st impression to stress of the event. Very friendly, very sweet - and suprisingly real - not fake. So I got a taste last nite of the actual nice rich folks my age. The rest of the eve proved my theory of my age rich folk are lame.
There was the younger "ken doll" looking dude. He arrived with a group, collar up, curly blonde hair that fell perfectly in a little curl over his forehead, blue eyes and sparkling smile. The guy was a douche. There was lots of alcohol at this event FYI. This douche would walk by our table (Mind you there were 5 women and 1 guy working registration and we were all pretty cute), he'd smile and say "Hellooooo Ladies..." very suave. Very pompous. He'd wink. He'd smile. I was dying. At one point I think I actually guffawed quite loudly back at him. Then there was the drunk young couple. The gal was very done up - already had so much work done and probably wasnt even close to my age yet. The dude was drunk and an asshole. They kept coming up to the table to check if they won any of thier auction items. He'd lean on the table making jokes, slurring, hitting on the gal in front of his gal. This was actually wifey I mentioned earlier - she handled it like a pro. He just looked like "That Guy" ya know? There were a few more similar situations throughout the evening with these type. It just made me realize even more how uncomfortable I am around these people. I cant stand that kind of aura.
I remember the boy I dated a while ago - he had alot of rich friends. Now - I didnt meet any of them really. So I cant judge. But I remember our 1st date - he asked me if I'd been to certain bars. The ones he rattled off I eithier had not heard of or knew of as the newport beach/corona del mar scene and was stunned he frequented these. He was not that type. He made good money yes, but he didnt have that snobbery about him. As we dated longer, I realized he did like the "nice life". I never did go to any of these foo-foo bars with him - he knew they just werent my scene. But we'd joke constantly about them and I'd razz him mercilessly when he'd go. One in particular was Javiers in Newport Coast. I went once, for a friends bday. It was full of all those types! The same exact types of these douchebags I watched last nite. The young rich. I felt so out of place and uncomfortable the whole evening, but stayed for my friend. It was akward and weird and these people were so fake and mean and snooty. The boy told me dinner there is different, he may be right. But that place left a bad taste in my mouth.
I'm not around these types of people very often. But I really do find it interesting sometimes when I am. Dont get me wrong - it'd be nice to have money. Nice to not have to worry about bills and what not. But... Their lives. Thier outlook on life. I seriously cant imagine what its like - nor do I ever want to know.

Kickball...

Yup.

I play kickball.

My lovely lovely girlfriend signed me up as an Xmas present. The bro and the sis-in-law are also on the team. Its a real thing. SurfCity Division. 18 Teams. Sponsored by Sharkeez in Huntington Beach. Our team is the Drunken Degenerate Kickballers.

Yup.
Kickball.
Like when you were 8.

When I 1st heard about it, I thought my sis-in-law was joking. Nope. Our team captain is Mr. Positive. I adore him. I remember going to D's game last season and he and I were chatting afterwards. "Its all in good fun." he said. "I mean, what the hell else are we going to do in our 30's except drink beer, play kickball, and hang out!". I liked the sound of that.

So this is how it goes:

We play on Monday nights in Huntington Beach. There are 7:00 games and 8:00 games. (Seems we've been the 8:00 forever). You play 5 innings. Team Captain brings a cooler of beer to the game, everyone drinks. He even got us stainless steel mugs. People drink and smoke and play kickball. There are the teams that take it very seriously. Its funny. I will admit - me and the bro get very competitive and losing or fucking up - sucks. But we still have fun. The bro is amazing. I'm not so great. In fact our team isnt really that great, but it doesnt matter. We have fun. We havent won a game yet....in fact 2 of the games we had our asses handed to us. But its fun. Team Captain is always up and positive. Our team is a fantastic group of people. Very laid back, fun, cool. Some are very athletic and into many sports, others like myself smoke while on the field sometimes. After the game we head to Sharkeez. I mean everyone. All 18 teams. They have a deal (Since they're our sponsors) - each team gets a platter of free appetizers, 2 for 1 beer pitchers and discounted drinks. Then we play flip cup. I hate beer. I really do. I'm trying so hard to drink it and get accustomed to it -especially for flip cup which I have found I'm outstanding at. All the McCoy's are. We rock. Flip Cup is a beer drinking game...they have a championship - hell they have a fucking trophy. Its hysterical. So - our kickball team may be 2nd to last at the moment - but we are in 1st place for the flip cup. Thats where our priorities are at. Its too damn funny.

So - thats my Monday nights. Working again is hard, because I cant party as hard as I'd like to now that I have to actually get up and work the next day -but I try to get a little in. One night a week I get to be somewhat active, dress all sporty (they also have themed nights sometimes....last nite was GREEN for St. Paddy's), hang with some cool peeps and feel sort of like a kid again. Who would have thought I would have ever been brilliant at a beer drinking game....!!!

I gave up my dreams today...

I got a job.
I should be jumping for joy. I should be thankful. I should be so appreciate and grateful due to the state of our economy and the state of alot of my friends. Its bitter sweet. I've wanted/needed a job since the sad demise of OP. I've moved back home and wanted back out. Those readers of mine out there may think less of me after this blog. But it ripped into my heart. This has been coming the past couple of weeks. The realist in me has been battling the dreamer ever since October. The realist won.
I tried so hard to look at this as a new opportunity. A new time to start a new life. A time to focus on becoming a paid actor. Getting an agent. Getting out there. Taking photographs again. Writing more, maybe even writing a book. I did none of this. I got to a breaking point and realized I need to give up my dreams. Ever since my divorce I've had this overhanging debt of my ex-husbands. I've never gotten ahead. I lived paycheck to paycheck but I lived on my own. Losing my job and moving back home humbled me tremendously. I've realized I have to get this debt gone and out of my life. I need to somewhat start over. The sad part of this is, I have to give up my dreams to do so. So I did it. I was offered a job in this failing economy. The pay is somewhat less (not much) then what I made at OP. I'm going back into a job I hated. But its a job. I'll have benefits and vacation time. I'll have money. I can now get that debt paid off. I can now actually for the 1st time since my divorce save some money and then move out on my own, by myself. I've become a statistic. I've become a normal boring person. I will have a job. I will have my own place. I will hopefully meet someone and maybe time I should start a family. I dont know. It seems I've never gone this direction and I havent been happy. I should try it. I need to be grateful for what I do have and suck it up. I need to be grateful that I have a wonderful family and a wonderful support group of friends. I need to stop trying so hard to suceed as an artist. I'm 33. Its time I grew up.

33...

I'm 33.

Lord.

I'm certainly not where I thought I would be at 33. Altho did I ever really know where I would be? Eh. Whatev.

It was a pretty mellow birthday for me this year, considering I'm known for throwing such insane bashes. I just didnt feel like celebrating really - not a bad thing - just more of a "whatev".

But what did happen was very nice. Sunday I had brunch at Taps with Dad, Lori, Shane and D. We drank lots of mimosas, laughed, stuffed ourselves and I got a parking ticket. Ya. City of Brea can bite me. Back to dad's to chill for a while. My actual bday was a running the grandparents around day - but we did go to lunch at Claim Jumper - stuffed my face again - they brought me a huge mud pie for my bday to which I think I got 2 bites of before the grandparents tore into it. One of the benefits of living at home is my bday morning. I woke up to find wrapped gifts all over. One on the dining room table from mom, one by the coffee maker from Tweaks, one on the computer from Tabitha, one on the couch from Smokie and one on the bathroom sink from Gallagher. My mom is a crack up and I know where I get my fun silly ideas like this!

I decided to do a last min - "Lets go drink" nite for my bday. Kickball was off and on all day long due to the rain - finally a decision of no. SO - that meant drinking in the city of Orange since that is now where I'm re-located back with moms. Shane, D and I rolled in to The District Lounge in the downtown Orange Circle. I hadnt been there in years and forgot how much I dug the place. Its a good size bar, booths, has a stage and dance floor but for Monday nights had pool tables and a shuffleboard set up instead. When the bartender looked at my ID he looked again and said "Is this today?!" "Yup!" I replied happily. He brought my wine I ordered along with a shot on the house. The 3 of us grabbed a middle table and started to chat. I grabbed the menu and to my utter delightfullness saw that there were tater tots on the menu! The bartender came over and I screeched "I want tator tots!" "Are you 8?" he laughs and left to get my order. The crew started to trickle in, Dad followed by Nat and Julie from my kickball team. Then rolls in T-mow, and some other kickballers - Zack, Ben and Chay. Nat brought a huge tin of adorable little cupcakes and the drinking began. We laughed, talked, drank. Eventually Fatima, Keith, La Becky and her boy arrived and the crew got bigger and louder. As I was outside Lil Marc showed up as well - a great friend of mine I havent seen in years. We all played pool, shuffleboard, picked faboo songs on the jukebox and had a great time. Some random fellow and his gf each bought me shots when they heard it was my bday and a few shots for some of the pretty girls as well! It was a perfect chill nite to bring in my 33rd year. I drove home happy and tipsy and thrilled at having so many new friends and old. Happy Birthday to me!