Yessssssssssssss

DAY ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY-TWO: The Pauper Releases

Ever since I've gotten back into the acting ring (where people exchange cutting side-eye left hooks for punches), I've been trying to remember how to be a good actress.

Over the past few months, I've been trying desperately to come to terms with the idea that I'm no longer an honor's student at Frederick High School.  Shove me into an AP class there now, and I'd be lucky to leave with a C.  Drop me in a class at Loyola, and I've lost my Cum Laude status.  When you were once the kid that other kids gave a slightly audible "yesssssss" when assigned you as a partner, it's a weird and humbling transition to realize you rely on your calculator to figure out what you owe the busser in tip share at the end of the night.  Suffice it to say, I'm not the A+ student that got me those chords at graduation.

What I didn't realize until recently was that acting remains a skill in the same vein.  I grew up under the impression that creative talents were a gift bestowed upon you at birth.  That education in these fields was next to useless.  You either got it... or you don't.

Now, I have come to understand this is about as useful as allowing me to perform your vasectomy because I've seen my way around a dick.

Because eight years without any experience has brought me back to square one.  Except, joke is on experience.  Because my life has taught me the art of observation.

Theses gifts are, in part, bestowed upon us at birth.  We are left brain dominant, or we are right brain dominant.  Neither is right or wrong.  But in the same way that our sexuality is determined at birth (and it is), our logical vs. creative skill set is determined genetically before we are even capable of giving the middle finger.

So the person who once was a great actress.  Someone who found solace in the stage; an awkward teenager more comfortable making an ass of herself with the lights blinding her vision instead of flirting with a boy in gym class; now has to figure out how to regain that confidence with a whole new mound of deeper insecurities to cripple her.

The younger we are, the fewer inhibitions we have.  As ass backwards as it seems, our most "awkward" time (adolescence) couldn't be farther from it.  Awkward as a teen means breaking out in acne, not understanding your body, and having very little grasp on who you are.  These are skin deep issues.  I only wish that someone told me how deep anxiety would spread in your twenties.  When you start to doubt your own character.  When your goals and ambitions seem fruitless.  When you can't understand why you were put on this stupid piece of land to begin with.  THAT is awkward as fuck.

So dropping the whole acting thing during the prime of my maturation was regretful.  As now I have to relearn my craft as a human hobbled with self doubt and insecurity.

But tonight, I released.

During the rehearsal process of our upcoming sketch show, I have felt about 60% present.  I'm here.  I'm hosting.  And I am saying my lines.  But tonight, my brain let loose.  I've been watching the actors in our show.  I've been watching improv.  And I've been eating a hell of a lot more kale than pizza (which is hard at Pizano's).  And some where along this road, my brain opened up.

Credit the impending spring time (30 degrees!)  Credit the better diet (KALE!)  Credit the aforementioned euphoria (READ MY BLOG, GODDAMMIT!)  But I'll just go ahead and credit myself.  Because who else will in this crazy, fucked up world?  I make the choices I make.  All of this leads to a better me (hopefully?)  But somehow, tonight, I tapped into my inner actress.  And for the first time in eight years, I saw that girl on stage, age 17, who needlessly dropped a Madonna rap to little applause during an improv showcase and left the stage ready for more.