Joy delights in Joy

I saw a show last night. A show with so much heart, honesty, and purity, that it gave every single theater in the cities a run for their money. It was created by teenagers. Beat that.

The opening number tugged at my heart. A young man alone on the stage. Strength. Confidence. Vulnerability. As he danced alone on stage, the back curtain opened to reveal the entire company, dressed in flowing robes. As they engulfed him with their love and support, I could only think of one thing, Eric.

We lost a friend a year ago. A young man who I knew only in his joyful times. He was a goon, a clown, a true gentleman. Our high school years were filled with some of the most joy-filled times of my life. He was always there with his big head (literally..a big head..giant), an even bigger smile, and his huge heart. He was the VISTA theatre department. He made me laugh. He made me think. He made us smile. I never knew him without his joy.

I found myself thinking of him all throughout that show last night. A young man... strong, confidant, but so very vulnerable. We were there for him on that stage once. There to engulf him in the love and support he deserved and needed. That stage possessed the memories of his joy, and that joy still exists on those floor boards. His joyful spirit was there.

I find myself wishing for him often. I wish he would have remembered how infinitely loved he was. I wish he didn't make that choice one day. I wish he knew the pain he caused by leaving too soon. I wish for his happiness now. I wish he remembered his JOY. But at the end of the day..it's as simple as...We wish he were still here. We can wish and wish and wish. What we have are his memories. His talent. His charm. His strength. The love he had. The joy he shared with us. I like to remember him in his joyful times.

You were loved. You are missed.

xo

“Make friends with the angels, who though invisible are always with you. Often invoke them, constantly praise them, and make good use of their help and assistance in all your temporal and spiritual affairs.”-St. Frances de Sales

Where the sidwalk ends..is where you will find people with their cell phones..

I just read an alarming article in the New York Times. Said article chronicled the increase of injuries of human beings while cell phone talking/texting and WALKING. Yes, you heard correctly. Walking! My first thought was, "Have we as a society really become this disconnected that we would allow ourselves to walk into holes in the street or parked cars, just so that we can talk on the phone about something mundane while we are out?". I fear this may be the truth. I was so quick to point fingers and judge those poor unfortunate folks that found themselves rushed to the ER with concussions and broken bones, until I realized....I was one of them! (GASP FROM THE CROWD!)

I will admit it, my phone has become my social safety blanket. I'm sure I'm not alone in this confession. A bored moment out with friends, an awkward "I need to look busy so that people don't think I'm a loner" time in public, etc..etc..My recent purchase of the iphone has only made things worse. Downloading apps like "bacon farts" and "animals licking the scream to the tune of hamster dance" allow me the opportunity to float off into another world and be accountable to no one.

So, here and now I offer this promise to myself. I will resist the urge to carry my phone with me everywhere I go, fiddle with it at every chance I get, and use it as a device to ignore the conversation of others. There is no reason I needed to be at the theatre tonight fiddling with the phonesies when I could have been paying attention to the world around me. I've been trying to really take a deep hard look at myself and I see this is a gate I put up around myself to keep safe. Instead of a gate, I think I will be a-ok with an invisible fence...knowing that it's there..but not crossing that line..because if I do? ZAPP! BANG! BOOM! POW!..I could have just fallen down an open man-hole cover in the middle of the street......(ha! man-hole. haha)

Just a thought on self-improvement. Feelin' good about it.

A letter to....PEOPLE THAT HANG OUT AT THE MALL ON A SATURDAY

I've decided to add a segment to my blog in which I send open letters to people I encounter. Why can't I send them a personal letter? Because I don't have their addresses...they are strangers. Strangers don't give me their addresses. I know that is weird. So, today my letter is dedicated to.... PEOPLE THAT HANG OUT AT THE MALL ON A SATURDAY....

1. Dear Tween Cheerleaders at the Mall to perform in a rotunda,

Tweens, let me be frank. You are dressed inappropriately, you've got enough glitter on to homo-fy a small country, and you are obnoxious. I wish I could pretend to support you, but I can't. A cheer leading competition in the middle of a mall?... is moronic.

Tweens, let me get real with you again. Do you mind? Didn't think so..When I am walking through the mall on my way to the Apple store, I ask one thing of you. Please move your spandex-clad behinds from the middle of the walkway. It is not necessary for you to be sitting in the middle of my walking space, while one of your mothers' screams at you from the 2nd level..trying to get the right picture of you guys sitting casually on the floor of the Mall holding hands in a friendship circle.

Thanks Tweens! Ra Ra Ra!

Love, Me

2. Dear Elderly,

Mall walking is for weekday mornings, not Saturday afternoons. Please take your pedometers and power-walk home. I worry for your safety on Saturdays. Don't you see those crazy tweens with pom-poms?

Love, Me

3. Dear Awkward Young Couples,

A.Y.C's, I'm going to get real with you guys too. I appreciate your love. I do. Congrats. You're in love, but unfortunately...you've become awkward and socially inappropriate. Some tips from me to you! Walking becomes difficult when you stick your hands into each others back pockets. I understand those pockets are huge because those pants are circa 1998, but I don't agree with this practice. It's dangerous, it's clearly not easy for you to walk through the mall, and I pukey a little in my mouthy when I see the hands moving.

My next tip comes from the inspiration I found while watching you purchase items at the mall. Young man in the A.Y.C relationship..buying her a new cherry-shaped belly button dangly ring from the mall kiosk.. is not romance. I repeat..NOT ROMANCE. In fact, it is bizarre. Young lady in the A.Y.C relationship, wearing that belly shirt to reveal your brand new cherry-shaped belly button dangly ring is not attractive. I repeat..NOT ATTRACTIVE. You are just egging him on and making things worse.

Way to be in love kids! Keep it classy!

Love, Me

Just a few letters to the PEOPLE THAT HANG OUT AT THE MALL ON A SATURDAY!!

Love, Me

Sports?

I have not blogged in over a week. This does not make me a bad person. Stop it. It doesn't. Ugh..fine..you've soaked me with guilt, this means I have a few unsatisfactory qualities. I find myself seated at Noodle Jr (my Laptop's new name), watching the Vikings play the New Orleans Saints. :) It's fun.

Sports have always been a quandary to me. Not in the typical "I'm an actor, ya'all. I don't do sports because it's lame and I like to wear black and I like to sit in dark theaters while those stupid popular kids go out and watch that sports thingy that I don't care to understand because I'm an actor and I'm not dumb and I take myself way to seriously to ever do something like that. Ugh. Hand me my dance belt...I have some work to do" sort of way. No, not in that way at all.

In fact, I dipped my toe in the sports world many times throughout my youth. For many years I was an enthusiastic member of many different swim teams around town. I played soccer for a season or two. I was a vertically-challenged member of my volleyball team. I tried swimming again. I never went back to soccer. The problem? I am not a very competitive person. NOT AT ALL. This is evident in my personal "trophy case". My athletic endeavours have led me to such honors like "Most likely to be laughing at the end of the pool" and "Best jokes at snack time" and oodles and oodles of 3rd and 4th ribbons. I can't say it was lack of motivation because I tried really hard.

I had fond memories of each sport. Soccer was a joy. I played for our local rec center, and each time the team superstar/bully would make a goal, as we ran down the field in victory, Queen's "We are the Champions" playing in our little ears, she would come over, punch me in the arm and say "YOU COULD LEARN FROM THAT!" Yes, yes, yes, soccer was a joy. Volleyball was very close to my heart. In an effort to be innovative one summer at a volleyball intensive camp, I developed what I coined as "the CLAM METHOD". The "Clam Method" was nothing more than setting the ball up, but what made my method different? Each time the ball hit your hands you squeeked "clams!". The "CM" didn't help me when I continually got hit in the head with the ball, but it brought joy to me.

Finally...swimming. I still enjoy swimming, but have opted out of the competitive doggy paddle in my adult years. As a child I cherished my time in the water. I specialized in the backstroke and soared down the lane like a relaxed otter on a warm summer day. Floating gently on my back, staring wistfully up at the big blue Minnesota sky, not a care in the world, not even the fact that I was in the midst of a race. The sides of the pool packed with screaming fans, screaming at me "KICK YOUR FEET!! STOP FLOATING!! All you're doing is floating down the lane!!"..That didn't bother me. I was happy with my 4th place ribbons, they were yellow and that was a lot sassier than blue.

You see, I was in the sports for the funsies, not the glory. I laughed a lot, I learned a lot, and I had fun. Yes, it may be too Barney for you, but I did it for fun. In my adulthood I find myself in workin' on my fitness at the gym that houses the pool I spent so much time in as a child. While stretchin' out my business today at the gym, I noticed the man next to me doing the same stretch and staring at me. It was puzzling, especially puzzling when he was attempting to stretch further and harder than me. What was he doing? He was behaving like a monkey in heat. What he was doing was what I can only assume was the gym equivalent of competitiveness. I laughed in his face. It was ridiculous. I wasn't there to be a better stretcher than him..he was dumb. Clearly.

As I finish this entry, the Vikes have just gone into overtime...in this case, this is not fun...this is business..Kick some ass, boys!

Dangers of Stupids on the Roads

Let’s do a little car logic exercise, shall we?

Let’s say you’re driving along the highway at about 10:30 at night and you get in a minor accident. Not too bad, a simple rear-ending situation with another carsicle. Mmmk..are you picturing this?

Now, get ready for a pop quiz. Answer this question:

“When I get in this accident I will…”

A. Pull off to the shoulder like a normal person.

B. Keep driving

C. Stop my car in the middle of the lane, get out and chat.

If you chose C, you are the STUPIDFACE I encountered last night on the highway.

So, a letter to you……

Dear StupidFace,

First off, why are you so stupid? Second, are you aware that when you stop your car in the middle of the lane….. oncoming traffic WILL come and hit you in the butt? Stupidface, my apologies for my frankness, but seriously? Is this logical to you? I would like you to call my VW dealer and thank them for the impeccable breaks they installed into my Jetta. Had they not done this, we would all be roadkill right now. Stupidface, google their number and thank them. Seriously. Do it now. I would highly consider getting rid of your car and stick to public tranist because you are not fit for the roads. Thanks StupidFace! See you on the bus!

Love, Me