Absence

The last two weeks of August have been crazy, yet exhilerating, and its effects are still wearing off on me.

I was on hiatus because I just wrapping up my acting classes. I can honestly say I gave it my all in my last performance on Wednesday. It took a toll on me to be honest, because my character in the script is so emotional.  I had a hard time getting into character and learning to cry, especially since I didn’t relate at all to the story. But once I connected to the character and cried my heart out, I felt like I overcame a challenge that I didn’t think I could do. It was definitely an adrenaline rush and I loved every bit of it! My overall evaluation for my performance was supposed to be released yesterday but I haven’t heard anything back yet. I am so anxious because,  if I don’t get a passing mark, I won’t get to move into the next level in acting class and will be required to do intro all over again.

My initial reaction of receiving no response was the fact that the acting studio didn’t want me to return. But it turns out, a few of my classmates already received a call last night saying that they didn’t get to advance to the next level. So is my lack of response a good sign?? Knowing that I am a very impatient person, the curiosity is killing me inside.

But having such supportive network of good friends has made this “wait” easier than I expected it to be. My friend, Pat, said to me “I’m still excited for you, either way sounds like this has been a huge find for you. Regardless of the outcome, I think if you looked at your expectations 8 weeks ago or whenever it was you started you’d be blown away. From nothing to talk of getting an agent in that time is huge”.

And that made me smile. I have had made huge strives and I finally can share the story to someone that I finally did something that I always wanted to do, and not give some hopeless pathetic speech about how I am so afraid to do something that I would love. If I didn’t try out acting, I wouldn’t realize how much I am in love with every bit of it!

Going back to reality, I have a national professional accounting exam in two weeks. So I will likely be hiatus for another two weeks. Accountant by day, actress-to-be by night. HA! Having this dual identity thing is going to catch up to me one day but for now, I’d like to think of myself as invincable.

Advertisements

Good girl, gone bad

Generally speaking, I’ve always been a “good girl”. I don’t even recall a time where I pushed or tested my parents’ limits such that they lost full control of disciplining me. There were obviously times where I yelled back at my parents when they were completely unreasonable. But at the end of the day, I listened to what they had to say and gave in.

But somehow, I remember a definitive point in my life where my rebellious stage kicked in. I was visiting my aunt (mom’s sister) in Sydney, Australia for the first time when I was 12 years old. My mom and aunt looked so much alike, but they were very two different people. My aunt was young and hip. My mom, on the other hand, was, and still is, conservative and traditional. I was shopping with my aunt at a department store and she pulled out the shortest denim booty shorts ever and forced me to go try them on. I was embarassed and shy. But I couldn’t be rude to her and say no. I got into the changeroom, threw on the shorts, and felt nervous, exposed, and shaken. I opened the door and my aunt’s jaw drops. The next thing I know, she spanks my butt and admires how cute these daisy duke shorts make my booty stand out. I smiled nervously back to her and told her “My mom would kill me if she saw me wear this” but my aunt didn’t hear a single word of it. All she did was asked if she could buy it for me as a gift from her. I kindly said no knowing what my mom would think. But just the concept of exposure of those short shorts made me feel different, like I was deviating from the norm and taking risks. Who’d knew that a pair of short shorts would symbolize something in my life?

I was still a good girl even after this event. My style was conservative; I wore no make up; I never did my hair – or even knew how to; I was just plain Jane even well into most of university. Towards the end of university, things started to change faster than I could even keep up.

I ended my three year relationship because I couldn’t grasp the idea of settling into a serious relationship in my 20s. I felt I played it safe all my life and I couldn’t live not knowing what it would be like to meet new people and expose myself to new and exciting things in life. I didn’t know what these things were, but I just knew that that long-term relationship was not fit for where I saw myself at this stage in life.

As soon as that relationship ended, I opened up a lot to new people and became friends with many. Then I did the unthinkable. I had my first hookup. The guy involved was a good friend of mine for months prior to the event. There was always the intention and attraction, so it was really just a matter of time. But I couldn’t believe I did what I did. My friends didn’t either. But what I did I had no regrets.

It lasted for three months until I started to have feelings for him that he did not share. So I had to end our “friendship”. It hurts me then, and it sometimes still hurts me now. But for the most part, I moved on.

As it stands now, work has consumed my life. I rarely am able to see my friends and family because of the amount of commitment and hours that are involved in the nature of my mundane job. I felt like I wasn’t taking any risks and there was no longer any excitement in my life. As I began to lose sight as to why I was here, I wanted to feel something again.

Three weeks ago, I went to my first rave. I was nervous, yet excited. I knew the risks of exposing myself to such an environment would require some caution. Let’s face it, it’s obvious the “illegal activities” that go around in raves. But from the moment I got there, I was excited. Dark rooms, laser-type lights, insane dance beats, I just felt like I was on a high without any drugs or alcohol. My mind, body and soul was hypnotized by the dance music and I let it take over me. I began to feel again.

Since then, I’ve been pushing my own limits to feel more and more and it’s taken over me this past week. It was 10PM last Monday and my friend and I were the very few last people in the office still working. He says to me “I need a drink.” and I responded “Let’s do it”. My friend was like “Seriously!?” And I wanted to say the same thing to myself. Did I really just agree to drinking on a Monday night knowing we had work the next day? The next thing you know, we eventually found a cute Irish Bar just five minutes from our office. What ended up supposed to be one drink, ended up with several more drinks. We talked about life like we were 50 and wise and stayed up until 2AM. I had to wake up four hours later to get ready for work. It was insane but I had so much fun.

I’ve just been driving myself down this road and I don’t know where it’s taking me but it’s almost like an addiction. I don’t know if I can stop but I know there has to be a limit to these things or else consequences will follow. I am a little concerned at the state I’m in but I feel as though my career right now is limiting to what I really am passionate about. So I compensate the emptiness by wanting to feel, do, experience something different every time. Have I really lost control or am I overreacting?