Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Life As I Know It (well as of January 2015)

I'm sorry I haven't been around much. Recovering from ankle surgery in January wasn't fun, but it also wasn't terrible. I got to experience a Cavalier's win by the king himself, and it was the first week my boys JR Smith and Iman Shumpert played for someone other than the Knicks in years. I took my first Greyhound bus by myself from Cleveland to Erie on crutches, and although it wasn't anything special, it was still my first step to being a free woman.

I started rehearsing for Les Miserables at a local theater that was doing a reboot show. I was cast in the ensemble, and I was a little worried that my ankle wouldn't be healed enough to get through. Nearly two weeks before the show opened, I got to travel to the city that never sleeps for a work trip. I had never been to NYC before and honestly had the time of my life. I didn't weep, but I did fall in love. It's hard not to. The way you feel when you're aimlessly speed walking in a boot around Grand Central Station, the way the eggplant Parmesan pizza feels in your mouth at 4am, the laugh the Uber driver makes when you drunkenly yell "TURN THIS UP THIS IS MY JAAMMMM" to every song that comes on on the radio, the way you never have enough time to see all the people you want to see, visit the sights you've always wanted to visit, and find the spots you never knew existed... it's all magic, and it's only in New York City.

I returned home and went straight into Les Miserables, a show filled with a cast who still remembered every word, every note, every move from the last time they did the show in 2012. It made me nervous every day that I wouldn't be able to get it right, but you know what? I worked hard, I tended to my foot, and I performed it. It was a memory for the books.

Sixteen moving and magical shows later, I found myself actually quite sad. I left the show with new friendships and stronger old ones. I found empathy from the story of Les Miserables. As we sang the final words of "Do You Hear the People Sing" on the final performance, I remember exchanging teary-eyed glances with my closest friends who were also sobbing, and feeling a little heartbroken that this would be the last time I would feel this way with these people.

When the show was over, I had difficulty transitioning back to who I was before the show, before the ankle, before the pile of shows I had done prior to January 2015. I started going out all the time - not just on weekends, but weeknights and I would stay up until the wee hours of the morning before going into my regular work day. I didn't mind though. I was discovering me.

I had a quick mishap in love or "really intense" like or something. Just a friend I started spending personal time with, whose presence I actually enjoyed very much. It was stupid. You're not supposed to fall for your friends, and fortunately he broke it off before I committed too much more time or energy into pursuing anything. It did feel like a blow to the head, though... a shot to the heart, if you will. I'm not used to people "dumping" me per se, especially someone I really wasn't dating. It made me feel... kind of low. I spent a week wallowing, and the next week feeling like a slight psychopath - I mean come on, if you don't love me, you're going to have to suffer through me randomly texting you "k" or "cool" when you don't respond to me right away. It's fine.

I finally picked myself up one Sunday and told myself this charade was over. It was time to go back to the gym, time to start eating clean again and time to commit my evenings to another show.

So that's where I'm at right now. Down 6 lbs since May, feeling slightly more active, and cast in two Shakespeare shows. I've put myself back on the market and I have found some great content in the dating scene that I can't wait to share.

Sorry for the long, out of character update, I just had to let you all know that I'm trying to come back guys! Blog should be up and running functionally once again very soon.

Thanks for hanging in there :)


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