Not much to say today, so how bout this...

in
You know when you wake up and go to get dressed and end up trying on everything in your closet only to end up feeling as though you should just crawl back into bed?
That's how I felt this morning.
After settling on a basic skirt and blouse and leaving a heap of clean laundry on my bed I headed to the bus for my second audition in two days. I'll be an actor yet! Well, it turns out it didn't matter what I put on because I got soaked to the bone in a lovely little New York monsoon. And that's when I decided that for the moment I'm going to choose not to hate this lovely, little city of mine. Instead, I'm going to look at it as a fantastic challenge--a game I get to play day in and day out. And I'm ready for the ride.
Today.
We'll see how I feel tomorrow.
Early afternoon I took my rain-soaked behind to my audition and guess what...I didn't want to die (this was a big deal for me--since yesterday I left hoping I'd never see another casting director/actor/theatre/tall building/tree again).
Then this evening I got my sweaty (not to worry, it was post-gym) butt off to my second day of work.  For those of you who don't know, I'm now officially a member of the Metropolitan Opera fundraising team (shout out to Erica for suggesting this even if she's already abandoned me). It's oh so very exciting and guess what...it pays money--which right now, I need.
And then just now, after a few Chinese veggie rolls, I took in a little tube in the form of "How to Look Good Naked" with Carson Kressley. And I was skeptical, but my friends...it was good.
And moving.
Maybe I cried.
And then I ate almond butter and jam out of the jars. And you know what, I'd do it again.
Tonight, I'm happy. Life is good.

So Long Summer.

in
Dear Summer, 
       
I will miss you. I will miss you ever so much.
 
You began with a little thing known as graduation, for which my entire family (well, a large number of them) trekked to NYC to experience. And to those who came, most especially my parents, I must apologize. I was not excited. At all. Yes, I wanted to be done with school, but the actual pomp and circumstance associated with it--no thank you, not now. Juilliard met me half-way. If graduations are usually like four course meals at a five-star restaurants, Juilliard skips the meal altogether and just serves the shot of espresso that usually comes at the end.  So, here I offer up my promise that I will make this up to my family in the years that come. With parties and shindigs and events that far outweigh what any graduation could offer. 
 

 
I take after my father. I can't take a straight picture to save my life. Goofy face? Check.
 
Then summer you obliged me by letting me return home to Texas (home, Texas, one sentence? wow, I never thought I'd publicly put those two things together--ever) where I applied for jobs that had nothing to do with theatre and spent the evenings sprawled in a large leather chair enjoying books and reruns. I ended up at a lovely little retail shop where I made next to nothing, but learned more than you might think possible...
 
1. a big rock on the left hand does not entitle you to be a bitch
2. showing up on time is so easy to do and will so endear you to the people you work for
3. gossip is wasted energy
4. its possible to like almost anyone if you give them a chance and let go of your own ego
5. when raising children don't begin with the question: how do I make my child a good person? this will become overwhelming and you'll end up getting nowhere...instead you must teach them the simple things like look someone in the eye, say please and thank you, clean up after yourself, offer up words of kindness, no one exists simply to serve you (oh, and you're not your child's friend, you're their parent)
6. doing simple little things in life will take you such a long way
7. when taking in criticism, the person offering it isn't interested in your excuses, they just just want to know you've heard what they've said
 
And before heading back to Manhattan I took a lovely, little vacation (my first true one in a year and half) to Chautauqua. The previous two years I had been there as a "theatre student" (as Jonathan would say) and had met some of the most amazing people a girl could ever hope to know. Well, this go round I was there as a tourist and I loved it. I ate more food than I knew what to do with because Karen, my adopt-a-mom, cooks like Monet painted, or Neruda wrote. I read (after all this was the summer of my never-ending-book) and I slept and I went swimming and I made new friends. 
 
Summer, I must thank you for this most especially. New friends. Lovely friends. People whose path I had no right to cross and others I knew, but got to fall in love with in ways I never dreamed possible. Friends who have armed me with a new and deep knowledge, who serve as springboards for ideas, and instigators for trouble. Friends who make me laugh and laugh and laugh. Who give me reason to smile and giggle and want make secrets just so I can whisper them in their ears. Friends who I thought I would never see again because our friendship had run its course, only to realize I need them now more than ever. 
 
Whitney--I'm so glad you walked in to Francesca's and we got to reconnect. I feel really, really lucky to know you.
Ariana--seeing you this summer reminded me of this: you are my family and the keeper of my secrets. And I love you in so many ways. And we're gonna be okay. We're gonna find jobs and create lives others will only dream of.
Nicole--where were you the first 22 years of my life? Now that I found you, I'm never letting you go.
Jonathan--I'm so glad we got to spend time together, and you finally go to see that human side of me. I look forward to countless mint chocolate chip adventures in the future.
Naomi--I admired you from afar for four years and now am so excited to get to play with you in the city. I actually have to admit, I'm still intimidated (even now) by how beautiful, intelligent, and self-possessed (not to mention talented) you are. You're blog opened up this glorious world to me and for that I'll forever be indebted.
 
Vic--you were my friend through the worst of it and now we get to be friends through thebest of it. I love exploring with you and trying new things and talking about those old bugaboos (of course looking forward to the day when they won't enter into our conversation at all). I love that Rob makes you so happy and you him.
Rob--I'm so proud of you. And so lucky to be able to tell you everything, even if it grosses you out and you choose to take three steps away from me.
Gavin--As long as the offer stands, my answer will always be: yes, yes, let's run awaytogether.
 
So thank you summer. 
 
Summer of the red door (I see them everywhere). 
Summer of the never-ending-book.
 
Summer of goodbyes...so long school, farewell Ned.
 
Summer of discovery. Summer of finding out that love is everywhere... in everything and everyone if you just open yourself up to it.
And of course...summer of you, my little blog-spot lover.
So summer, thank you. But now it's time for fall. Time for me to start working. Time for me to turn twenty-three. And time to at least give this acting thing a go of it.
 
See you next year my sweet and sinful season. 
'til we meet again, 'til we meet again,
Meg

So Long Ned.

in
Dear Ned, 

So I've finally given you a name. And now I'm showing you the door. It's time to move on. I'm tired of our late night love affairs and steamy trysts. Because the thing is, I always wake up the next morning feeling worse for the wear. Sore and tired and irritable and moody and bloated and fussy and lethargic and apathetic. Apathetic. That's the worst. You create a overriding sense of stasis in my life. And I hate that. And I hate you for that.

Not that long ago I was telling Tom about our relationship and I said I didn't hate you--I just felt sorry for you. Well, we're past that point. You have manipulated me and I've let you. You played hide-and-seek with my happiness and I willingly joined in. I stayed inside countless nights because you wanted me to. You made me flaky and untrustworthy. You made me loathe myself. So forgiveness is no longer an option. It's just not the point. You must go. We've taken breaks before, but they've never lasted. Until now. I'm tired. You've stayed too long and you're no longer of use to me.
So tomorrow morning when I wake up I expect you to be gone. Packed up and moved out. Don't you dare leave a pare of shoes behind--keeping that proverbial foot in the door. I will get out of bed and you're side will be empty. I will brush my teeth, take a shower, put lotion on my face, stretch and prepare for the day. And with each step I take, the bruises of your grasping little fingers will fade from my arm and I will find a normalcy that is all my own.
So goodbye my sometime lover. Move on. I may feel the shadow of your breath on my neck at times, but I will never again be seduced by empty kisses and even emptier promises.
xoxo
Meg