Avatar, Mucinex, Christmas break, and not a dime to spend.

I have been sick since Friday, but since there was a Thundersnow and I've had to walk to and from work everyday in it, the sick just won't quit. Now I'm on Mucinex, which helps. But what my body truly needs is a day in bed, which right now is NOT an option, seeing as I might not make ends meet at the end of the month. I have to work, there is no other option right now. Shit, I shouldn't even go home for Christmas. But I will. I am. I just hate feeling this desperate, and sick, and depressed all at the same time. On a high note, I got taken out to see Avatar last night, which was amazing. My first 3D film, in IMAX no less. I'd like to see it on a normal screen next to see the difference.
Ok. Gotta clean room and pack for tomorrow, somewhat... It is going to be so nice to go home.
Happy Christmas.

my life, the mess.

I have been up since 7am. In that time I COULD have been productive but instead I watched The Wrestler, had tea and oatmeal, looked at my old videos of my trip in January, all the while intermittently crying. so I am now in the midst of cleaning my room, which as always is a visual culmination of my inner turmoil and chaos. why can't cleaning my room be just that? why does it end up being a guttering of my soul into trashbags, dust cloths, hangers and the appropriate newly organized drawer? it's like a reset. not an improvement, not a plus. it's a return to zero. speaking of returning to zero I am single once again. don't feign shock, y'all new it had to come, it always does. but I am feeling really old after this last go round. was at a party last night, my friend had a camera setup along with his laptop so you could see the pic just after you took it. I didn't recognize myself. I look miserable, haggard, worn out in these shots, but all night people kept on telling me how great I look. Wait, is that what people do when you feel like shit on the inside, they over-compliment your outside? because I didn't FEEL great, and those pics told that truth. I wake up wanting to feel better, but all I feel is unaccomplished, lazy, tired, and sad. And I know I am healthy, but I feel sick inside. Not a snotty nosed, tummy-ache, swine-flu sick. A sickly feeling in my soul. My heart hurts, thus my body hurts, my brain is tired, therefore I am tired. and right now I am procrastinating finishing my cleaning. I feel I make a mess of things, let them pile up inside so very high, and right now my inner voice is screaming JENGA! on my ass. It's all crumbling, and at the worst of times. But then again, when is a good crumble time? I will get through this, I know, it just sucks being IN it.

Falling into so many things lately...

Recently, it's, well, Fall. My body WANTS to get it's seasonal cold, but I won't let it. Preemptive strike, yo's!!! Emergen-C, fluids, yoga, good food and the cure all of ALL preemptive cure all's... performance adrenaline. Wish we could bottle that somehow, make a fortune. Something about working on a show, puts my body into ULTIMATE MODE. Sore throat?? Piss off, Bruised - up knee?? Whatevs, Bloody knuckles?? All in a day's work. And it's like that, for the run of the show. The day, thee DAY AFTER however, my body's like a Jenga Tower in the final round...all my square pegs come a tumbling down and I am useless, for three days. But I hope to avoid that at all costs this time, with constant reinforcements, even if I don't feel crappy, I will supplement the hell outta myself no matter what.
I just wrapped on a film where we shot my shit in a cornfield in PA. I loved it. Think more film is in my future, if I can make it so. I love the new challenge of it.
I'm off to rehearsal.

my actor's nightmare last night

First read. Shakespeare play, but one that I don't know. Aaron Posner is directing. We are sitting in a circle and we come to my entrance, and I cannot read the lines. Can't hear the verse in my head, the words fade on the page, I say words backwards, stumbling, and all the while Posner is staring at me with the utmost contempt. Then someone whispers to me how we open in a week.
Then I woke up.
I hope to NEVER have that dream again.
But I probably will.
Gulp.

Summer 2009, more than half way over...

................{inhale}...............AndIstillhavenotgonetothebeachohmyfuckingGOD!

Other than that things have been going pretty fast, pretty busy.
T-Punks begin rehearsals for Measure For Measure in about a week.
I start my Angelo work tomorrow, give it a good week's prep before the real madness begins.
My hair isn't growing as fast as I would like it, but it is getting there.
I am doing much better with my workout regime, but like Angelo-work, Kimmah-work commences tomorrow and I am stepping up the inTENSity mothufuggahz. Jillian Michaels on-line support will help me thoroughly kick my own ass. I'm ready. But this also means no drinky-drinky for a whole month, which is gonna suck, but I gotta do it cause apparently?? drinking lowers your inhibitions?? and makes you have poor judgement?? and eat pancakes at 2:30 in the morning?? NOT that I have ever experienced those side effects, but hey you know, Jillian rules and I will bide by them.
My room is always in a state of chaos, that will never change, it is it's state of normalcy, and no matter how many times I clean, throw away, organize, it finds it way back to it's happy state of being: a big ol' fucking mess.
I give up, allow, and move on.
Tonight will be my last night of freedom, for a while.
Then it's ACTOR-Kimmah-MODE.
So next time I write to you all, I will be donning a more sophisticated, strong, determined, focused and sober, pretty pretty hat.
Be prepared to have your minds blown out.

Any excuse to eat carbs.

I will create ANY and EVERY excuse known to man to eat me some comfort carbs. Christ sakes, it's like I'm gearing to go hideout in the mountains. On other news, I didn't clean my room, or my bathroom, didn't go to the gym (going on month three now), but I DID however order Pad Thai, vegetarian of course cause you know, I gotta at least pretend I care what my chunky belly looks like, and sit at the head of my bed, which doubles as my work space since my laptop is on my nightstand, and read a crappy review that said I pace and try not to cry and that's pretty much it, read up on facebook and quickly go "on-line" to see if there is anyone I really feel like chatting with, read old e-mails, go on Twitter and...who am I kidding, I don't do anything on that fucking site, BIGGEST time waster ev-errrr, and then watch two episodes of The Starter Wife which I queued up on Netflix by some drunken mistake....its pretty good, just Netflixed the next one. So later on I will stare around my room, maybe measure my waist to determine what percentage I am allowed to REALLY feel like shit about my lazy ass, move one pile of shit to another part of the room, wash face, floss (ONLY thing I am proud to say I do everyday), brush, obsess over my weak double chin, my backfat, and my ever-sagging utters, throw on my Bon Jovi night shirt, and call. it. a. night.
Oh, and I have a crush on an actor, a yet againnnn. I fucking rule.