On the right track

Future looking less bleak, though room is still messy. That couldn't be helped, was house-sitting for over a week. Now that I am back to my 3 walls and a closet, the kimmah-cleanse will commence tonight! Thinking about doing a clothing swap with some ladies about town as I utilize maybe 15% of my wardrobe.
I am on a mission, taking action to be happy, and not fake happy smothered in booze and high-fructose corn syrup, but genuine "waking up in the morning and looking at the reflection of a beautiful, responsible, loving and deserving to be loved adult" happy.

2010, present thoughts in the later months...

November. 2010.
As much as things have stayed the same on the surface, underneath I feel an evolutionary period beginning to churn. I want to change.
People have called me in my profession, numerous times, a "chameleon"; in its essence this means Kimberly Gilbert the actor on stage is more familiar than Kimberly Gilbert person out in the world, on the street. People hardly recognize me, even after face-to-face interactions. It is only when someone remarks about one of my performances that I come to the forefront of their mind, fresh as a daisy! "OhmygodthatwasYOU?!" is a phrase I hear over and over. Friends of mine say that this is indicative of my immensely awesome mad skills on the ol'boards; but I wonder, is that what that it indicates, or does it say something else...
That "else" is what I fear, what I have feared, and it is the possibility that I don't really exist in the real world. I am 34 and all I have to show for it in the REAL world is a messy bedroom, no art on walls, no savings, no ownership of a car/house/pet/plant, and above all this...the one thing people bug me about the MOST...no husband and no children. All I have to show exists in the memories of my audience. But those are my characters, not me. So I guess what this rant is saying is that
I want to exist in the world, but it is not the world's responsibility, it is mine.
I must get out of my old mindset to perpetually rage against the machine, and try to find a way into the daylight, for I fear I might disappear.

Men, Insomnia, and Meeeeeeyyyyaaaargh!

What can't I get through my thick head?

Men+Kim=bag o'suck.

Kim+Yoga+Running+CalorieCounting+focusing on career=bag o'cute puppies.

My track record don't lie folks, so before y'all start thinking this is a "do these jeans make me look fat" not-so-veiled plea for a ego-confidence boost, go back and check your work.

I am a great friend, baker, sibling, daughter, and I will push down my bubbling acid reflux of self-deprecation and even say a great actor, but what I am NNNNOTTT, never have been, prolly never will be, is a great dater. I think I know why, too. I am so muthafucking focused on either avoiding any possible instance of being uncool or hurting their feelings, so, as any RomCom will show you, I fail on both points, every time.

It's raining here in Silver Spring, I'm at my office gig, pre-menstrual and my knee hurts. Naturally all I want to do is go and get deeerrunk and flirt with some bartender till he starts Jersey-pourin', but instead, I log in the banana I just consumed on my on-line calorie-counter (This one RULES it), take a big gulp of water and inhale reality, exhale woulda-coulda-shoulda, and let the day run it's course.

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.