California According to a New Mexican

Hello there, friends! It's been a while! As some of you are aware, I recently moved from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to Anaheim, California to work at the Disneyland Resort in Cast Costuming (which you can read all about on my other blog, here).

I've been here for about 2 1/2 months now, and I've made a few observations in that time period. Here are a few of them:


The Views




Umm, wow. There's really nothing like watching the sunset over the Pacific ocean here. It's spectacularly beautiful. But, unless you drive out to the beach, this is more like what you see...



You usually can't see very far at all, whereas, in New Mexico...



Miles and miles and miles of open space! And I do find myself missing that. Plus...



You can't see stars out at night in the city in California :c



They Don't Drought Like We Drought.



New Mexico knows it's a desert. We're nearly always in a drought. When you go hiking, the fire danger is usually "extreme," or, if there's snow on the ground or something, it goes down to "very high." Therefore, a typical New Mexican front yard will consist of tons of crushed rock and a few cacti, maybe a tree. Backyards are usually dirt and weeds, or bermuda grass which is ridiculously hardy.

Californians, on the other hand, love their tropical plants. There is really only one species of palm tree native to California, but all kinds of them are everywhere. That, along with all kinds of tropical flowering plants, plants with huge leaves, and succulents adorn most California yards. They also mostly have lawns, and you hardly ever see yards made up of crushed rock. California knows it's in a drought and gives PSAs over the radio telling people to get rid of their water-sucking plants, but nobody really seems to take it to heart, and California likes to keep pretending that it's actually a tropical paradise rather than a desert, which is a little bit distressing :/



Their Autumn is not Our Autumn.



It's November, and it just barely got down to 65 degrees, and is supposed to go back up to the 80s later this week, and everything is still very very green here. I believe that in California, the only way anyone can know it's supposed to be Autumn is by putting Pumpkin Spice on everything. Seriously, it's kinda creepy. I've seen Pumpkin Spice on the weirdest things here, from potato chips, to pasta sauce, to salsa. Now, I'm a fan of pumpkin and everything, and I never thought I'd say this, but that is just taking things way too far. Calm down, people.

And, while we're on the subject of Autumn...


Californians Have No Concept of Balloon Fiesta.



In October, I had trouble explaining to my co-workers why I was in such a bummed out mood because I was missing one of the best things that ever happens in New Mexico.

"Yeah! It's great! You get up crazy stupid early, way before the sun is out, then go work really hard and frantically drag out all the very heavy parts of the hot air balloon until it is inflated alongside hundreds of other hot air balloons, then you watch them all float up into the sky, then go chase it in a truck, then even more frantically deflate it and put it away into the trailer and come back to the field and chill with the other pilots - it's great! Really! You also get burritos!"

And, speaking of Balloon Fiesta...


Traffic.



They weren't kidding when they said L.A. traffic is awful. It's like Balloon Fiesta traffic, but all the time. And drivers are psycho, but at least they're self-aware of their psychotic driving tendencies, as opposed to Santa Fe drivers who just create their own free-spirited traffic rules in their hippie minds and give you a friendly wave as they cut across 3 lanes right in front of you because they suddenly felt like turning right instead of left because the flow of the universe told them to.


Albuquerque is Tiny.


  

Albuquerque is the largest city in New Mexico. We like to think of ourselves as a burgeoning metropolis. Now, look at the freeways. We have two in Albuquerque. Two. And we call the intersection of these two main freeways of the entire state of New Mexico "The Big I." We don't even have carpool lanes in New Mexico because we don't have enough people living in New Mexico to need them.

Living here and trying to navigate the millions of freeways and suburbs the size of Albuquerque or larger has been making me realize just how tiny Albuquerque actually is.

Also, side note, it feels strange referring to freeways as "the 5" or "the 57," because everyone in New Mexico says "I-25" and "I-40." Which is also the one thing that really bothers me about Breaking Bad, because they say "the 40." Which also brings me to my next point...


Differing Vernacular.



New Mexicans have a habit of using the word "all" as an intensifier, i.e. "Dude! That was all sick!" In California, I have never once heard "all" used that way, and it is replaced by the term, "hella."

They also frequently refer to each other as "brah."

Also, nobody knows what the beans you mean when you say "arroyo" or "acequia." Apparently they just call them "ditches" or "washes."


An arroyo.

  
Acequia = mini arroyo = irrigation ditch


And, my final and quintessentially New Mexican point:


Green Chile: They know what it is, but they don't know.



Surprisingly enough, a lot of people here have at least heard of green chile, and know that it's not the same thing as jalapenos. You can even find canned Hatch green chile in some supermarkets, although most of it is either mild or medium, which, as any true New Mexican knows is entirely pointless and may as well be wet lettuce. But, I have found one store that sells HOT Sadie's, so I have been sustaining myself on that.

Californians do not understand the wonders that green chile has to offer. They've maybe tried it in salsa, or in enchiladas or something, but they have no idea that they've only barely scratched the surface. You can't order green chile on burgers or pizza here, and when you suggest the notion, people look at you like you're crazy. They praise In-n-Out burger, which, admittedly is not half bad, but though they deliciously grill their onions, they are sadly behind Blake's Lottaburger and their grilled green chile burgers.

To a New Mexican, green chile is not merely a condiment, it is a way of life, and Californians will never quite be able to understand.


Okay, I lied, that's not quite my final point...

Both Places Have Their Charm.

 

Though I do find myself missing New Mexico and all its wonderful idiosyncrasies, I'm really happy to be here. I have countless beautiful and fantastic memories in New Mexico, and so many dear friends and people who have impacted my life, without whom I would not be the person I am today. But, being here in this new, strange, huge place, I feel like I'm where I need to be at this point in my life. I have no idea how long I'll stay here or if I'll eventually come back to New Mexico. But, as a recent graduate from UNM in creative writing, there are so many more opportunities for me to grow and explore and expand my horizons out here, particularly if I choose to stay with Disney. It's definitely been scary and challenging starting this entirely new journey and phase of my life, but I feel like it was time for this. Time for me to break out of my comfort zone, literally and figuratively, and truly discover what I can do. Though I still don't know exactly where all this will lead, I'm so glad to finally be out on my adventure in the great wide somewhere.

Ellie! There's a turtle in the street!

Apparently, that's the surefire phrase guaranteed to get me out of the house. A week ago, I was sitting around my house when my little brother came rushing in with the news. I thought it was a little odd that he had just left the poor thing in the street, but I didn't have much time to analyze it before a red sheet was thrown over my head, and a pseudo-gruff voice on the verge of laughter demanded, "Where's the piece of resistance!"

It had been a desire of my friend Lydia to be pranked at some point in her life. So, the night before, I and a couple of her other good friends had taken it upon ourselves to stuff her jeep with balloons during a farewell concert I was playing in. It was a fantastic concert, by the way. Well, Lydia was quite surprised and delighted by the balloons, some with funny faces drawn on them, others filled with puns and cheesy pickup lines.

Unbeknownst to, well, prettymuch anybody, it had been a desire of mine to be kidnapped by my friends to go do something fun. And that's exactly what Lydia and my brother did the day after the concert and balloon pranking. I was absolutely thrilled! We went to dinner and then saw a fun movie together, and I was so happy to be having some fun time with my best buds before my impending move out to California. But, as we drove home from the movie theater, I started feeling sad because I knew I would have to say goodbye soon. I'm not good at goodbyes. I never know what to say or how to act when it's not quite time to say the final farewell but you know it's about to happen. I usually just get really quiet and then feel terrible for not taking advantage of the last moments of talking. So most of the car ride back home was spent in relative silence on my part.

My friends are really, really sneaky.

As we pulled up in front of my house, I steeled myself, determined that I would not cry at my parting with Lydia. We said our sappy encouraging speeches and hugged enthusiastically, then Lydia said she'd probably get in her car and cry and I half-angrily and half-laughing disagreed, as that would make me cry. Lydia drove away, and I walked in a melancholy way up to my front door and waited for Jonathan to unlock it. By this point, I was getting ready to just go in my room and be melancholy the rest of the night, thinking about how I wished I just had a little more time with my dearest friends.

But as the door opened, I noticed something strange - the living room was clean. Remarkably clean. Clearly, something was afoot.

And thus, the tearful feels-fest began.

My thoroughly amazing mother had organized a surprise-birthday-going-away-moon-themed tea party with some of the very best of my lady friends.

When I first walked into the backyard, I saw that there were gorgeous lights strung up - I assumed my family had arranged to have an early birthday celebration or something. Then, my friends sprang out from behind tables and chairs and yelled "Surprise!!!" and I was immediately reduced to a puddle of emotion. People then thought it appropriate to rush me with hugs, as seen in the photos above.

Seriously, these photos don't even begin to do the event justice. The weather was absolutely perfect, just a few clouds in the sky to set off the moonlight, crickets lightly but not obnoxiously chirping, twinkle lights and paper lanterns to mimic the moon and stars all around the back yard, and beautiful old china and old-fashioned oil lamps decking the tables. My mom had spent the entire day cooking a menu of fabulous gluten-free tea treats, including quiche with all my favorite things (bacon, goat cheese, and sun-dried tomatoes). To set it all off, my mom and brother had put together a playlist of moon-themed and favorite songs of mine, ranging from Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, to Chopin, Ravel, and Vaughan Williams, even Treasure Planet, Bon Iver, and Sleeping At Last. Many of the songs made me tear up - not just because of the song itself, although many are that emotionally stirring, but because I knew how much thought had gone into the choosing of the songs on the part of my mom and brother. It just highlighted the way they both know me so well, and how much I'm going to miss them.

All of this, and surrounded by the people I love most. It was truly magical.

The lovely tea-makers and servers, Kate and Melia

Some of my favorite hooligans, Katie, August, Hollen, and Rachel

The sneaky, sneaky Lydia, plus darlings Nikki and Heather

Musician buddy Anna, intrepid market ladies Rachel and Sam, and General Fun (aka Lorien)

Even Grandma came out to enjoy the festivities!

One very, very blessed girl who misses you all terribly

In short, the night was spectacular. It was filled with delicious tea, sumptuous snacks, lovely conversation, and lots of laughs. There was even one moment when we were all sitting around one table, and we just stopped because a particularly poignant Sleeping At Last song called "In The Embers" was playing (yes, I know I only talk about SAL on this blog. Shush.). I just looked at Rachel (who also loves the band quite a lot) and we started tearing up. Then, everybody just sat and listened.

"Like fireworks we pull apart the dark -
Compete against the stars with all of our hearts,
Til our temporary brilliance turns to ash,
We pull apart the darkness while we can"

It was a perfectly-timed and beautiful reassurance for me. That's what my friends were all doing there in the glow of the moonlight - pulling apart the sadness of parting and enjoying the light of friendship. It also served as a reminder of why I'm striking out on this crazy adventure. Even though I'm going away and leaving a lot behind, I'm doing it for a purpose. Maybe a purpose that I can't completely see yet, but while I'm here, I want to pull apart the darkness while I can, and never forget all the beautiful people who light up my life wherever they happen to be on the globe.

A Check Up

DUDE. It's halfway through 2014 already. Who's this crazy person making time go by so freaking fast?! Srsly.

Anywho, Since we're 6 months into this thing, I thought it might be interesting to look back at my new year's resolutions and see how it's going. There are probably others that I forgot because I didn't write them down, but I think most of them were a tad metaphysical in nature, so whatever. Anyway, here we go!

Not Date Anyone Younger Than Me
Well, this one has gone just swimmingly, considering I haven't dated anyone :P

WRITE
This one has not gone as well as I would like :/ It hasn't gone completely terribly though. This blog, for instance! ...Okay, so I haven't been keeping up with this either, but...the beginning of this year was crazy and weird, let's just put it at that.

I have still written a few poems, done a bunch of free-writes, worked really hard on a screenplay (granted, it was for a class, but still, it was actually something I wanted to write), and written several scripts for special events at work.

I plan to do much more writing over the summer, and hopefully will have some time to write in the fall when I'm at Disney...but we'll see.

What I really need to make myself do is start writing every single day. Doesn't matter what, just write. I need to get it to where writing is a daily habit - where I feel weird if I don't write anything that day. So, starting today, let's make that my mid-year resolution :D

Spend Time With People
Since I'm moving to California in August, and I had kind of been a terrible friend last year (see Reflection and Resolution), I really wanted to make a point to see people and hang out with them this year. It's been going fairly well. I did end up being ridiculously busy with school and Fiddler, but I still managed to really make time for people. It's been really nice.

Particularly, since my mom moved in with her mom to be her caretaker, my mom and I have really had to be intentional about spending time together. Last year, I kind of took her for granted and barely saw her because I essentially just came home to sleep. It's kind of funny that now that we don't live in the same house anymore, our relationship is actually stronger. I make time to go over and visit her, get coffee, go shopping, and just hang out. And it's totally worth it. My mom is pretty awesome, and I'm way lucky to be able to talk to her like one of my best friends.

Get Healthy
Yeeeeah, this is a a pretty dang common resolution, and one that I've been trying to make for years. However, I'm pretty pleased to say that it's actually been going pretty well this year! I've been trying to make it a point to work out at least 3 times a week, and have prettymuch only missed that for illness, injury, and finals. Also, I plan to run my first 5k in August. Yeehaw!

I think it's important to note here the reasons why I wanted to start exercising more. One, I wanted to not feel weak, helpless, and sickly. Two, endorphins are awesome and a great way to help kick depression and anxiety in the booty. Three, I wanted to prove to myself that I can do things again that I thought I couldn't, like running. Four, to get my 6-pack back. Five, to get my split back. Six, to have enough confidence in myself to seriously study dance again.

My health has been kind of weird the past few years. Before my lungs got nasty and my stomach started being super evil around 2010, I really enjoyed running and exercising. But, when celiac disease happened and I went undiagnosed for a while and completely trashed my immune system, trying to do any kind of hardcore exercising kind of sucked. One huge factor was not being able to get enough oxygen to my muscles because my asthma kicked in whenever I tried to run. Another huge factor was that my body wasn't absorbing nutrients because gluten had sabotaged my digestive tract. Another factor was depression which threw off the chemicals in my brain, and consequently made my stomach even worse. Also, very low energy due to all these factors! Wooooooooooooooot.

But! All was not lost! My lungs have since healed up quite a bit since the horrible 3-month bout of bronchitis followed by horrible flu and relapse of auto-immune disease in 2011. Now, if I make sure to take 2 puffs of albuterol before running, I can actually do pretty well! Yay! Also, toward the end of 2013, after doing extensive tests to find out why my stomach likes to be super evil all the time and finding nothing out of the ordinary on every single test they can do, the doctors decided to put me on a mild antidepressant, which has helped IMMENSELY. I'm not nauseated all the time now! Hooray!

I've actually been able to eat normal-person-sized amounts of food without feeling like curling up in a ball for the rest of the day. It's kind of awesome. But you know what else has just recently started happening? I've actually been absorbing the food I eat and have finally been able to gain weight. I am now a whole 12 pounds more than I was a year ago!

This is kind of a weird development for me. I've been trying to gain this weight for several years, and now it just kind of happened. And I suddenly feel a little weird about it. I didn't really realize it before, but a lot of my identity had started to become wrapped up in being super skinny, kinda sickly and frail, and being unable to gain weight. Now that I suddenly have some...volume...to my hips, I feel weird about it - like people are going to start judging me for having hips and thighs (most of which are muscle anyway with a comparatively small layer of fat). And I hate thinking that way, because when I was crazy skinny, I still had body issues. I hated the fact that my ribs were so clearly visible and that my hip bones jutted out. Right now, I am LOVING the fact that my ribs don't show all the time and that my bras actually fit! But I'm waaaaay self-conscious about my hips now. Which is stupid. It's really, really stupid.

I think my body-image issues, at 103 and 120, stem from my propensity toward perfectionism. Being so skinny wasn't perfect because my ribs were gross, and having a layer of fat on my legs isn't perfect because it should ALL be muscle (even though I'm a female and it's totally normal to have that layer of fat). Why do I do that to myself? Rather than focusing on what's wrong with my body, I should be focusing on what's going right with it. I have some really fantastic muscle tone on my legs, and I'm finally kinda curvy! And nobody's going to judge the way I look half as harshly as I judge myself. Besides, friends and family have been telling me how great I look lately - that I look healthy. That's what's most important anyway, right?

So, I'm going to continue exercising and dancing, not because I want other people to approve of my perfect figure, but because I want to. I'm going to exercise because I enjoy it, because it makes me feel good, and because I want to actually take care of myself. And if I want to eat a few cookies, by golly I'm gonna eat those cookies so hard they won't even know what hit 'em, because I LIKE COOKIES!!!!

So there.

Confidence
One more thing. This wasn't exactly a resolution that I made in January, but something I've been discovering this year.

Last Saturday, I sang in a little Broadway cabaret fundraiser thing that the music director of Fiddler asked me to do. Two other ladies singing on this program were super amazing and had done a TON of musical theatre. I've only done 4 musicals in my life, and just recently learned how to belt. I was so nervous to get up and sing in front of them.

But, as my anxiety was starting to creep in, I stopped. I thought, "what am I doing? I'm not a beginner - I'm a very talented individual. I totally deserve to be on the same stage with these ladies. I'm really good too, and people enjoy watching me perform." And it worked. I got out there and did my best. I didn't hold back because I was embarrassed or thought they were going to compare me to anyone else. I just got up there and sang, and it felt awesome.

Something similar happened the other night in dance class. I was really nervous because I haven't been able to dance in about a year because of injury, Fiddler, and sickness, and was also nervous because I know I'm not as flexible as many of the girls in my class. But I'm still pretty freaking flexible! I can do the splits! And I'm a dancer. I may not have been dancing as long or as regularly as a lot of these girls, but I am a dancer. I know the terminology and the movements. Maybe my legs don't get as high as the other girls, but they still do the right thing and look pretty doing it. I told myself I belonged there. As soon as I did, my dancing got better. Especially in dance, if you tell yourself "I'm bad at this" or "I can't do that thing," you probably won't be able to. But if you tell yourself you know what you're doing, even if it takes you a little longer, you'll get it.

I hope I can learn to translate those feelings of belonging and right to be there into other areas of my life. I'm really sick of doubting myself and apologizing for my existence.  

The One About Graduating

It's May! That wonderful time of year where EVERYTHING happens!

So, yeah. I graduated college. And it's really weird, and just like any birthday or milestone or whatever, I don't really feel any different. It feels kind of strange to say that. Maybe it's just because it hasn't hit me yet because it just feels like any other end-of-semester relief, but I was kind of expecting to feel...more? I mean, graduating college is a pretty big deal! I'm moving to another state in 3 months, I'm not going back to school in the fall, and I'm starting a career and a whole different chapter in my life! It's a big deal!

If it's such a big deal, if such massive changes are coming in my life, why don't I feel more? Or, maybe a better question to be asking myself would be, what am I supposed to be feeling right now? Pride? Accomplishment? Excitement? Trepidation? Nostalgia? Because those are all there in a weird, slightly unsettling cocktail of vague emotion that I don't really know what to do with. Seems like I've been feeling a lot of those lately.

Anyway, enough about the feels, here's some stuff I learned in college! (In no particular order) :D

People don't have to be terrifying.
I've always been that kid who hid behind her mom and cried whenever an attempted introduction was made. I'm the type of person who gets really worn out from parties and social gatherings of any kind. I'm that person who relishes a free Friday night to sit in my sweatpants, sip tea, and watch Doctor Who.

It's not that I don't like people - I really do! I have super awesome friends whom I love dearly and absolutely love spending time with them. But, for a while, it usually took me a really really long time to get to a place where I'm that comfortable with them.

Most of my life, I had lived under the assumption that if someone wanted to play with or talk to me, they would approach me. Which also means that if they didn't approach me, they didn't want anything to do with me. If I approached them, I was bothering them. Kind of twisted logic there, but that's how my silly little brain worked. For a very long time.

When I first got to college, one of the things I hated most was "participating" in class. It meant I had to opinion and draw attention to myself in front of A WHOLE CLASS OF PEOPLE. I would get so nervous of people watching me that I would get tongue-tied, trains of thought would spontaneously derail, and I wouldn't be able to say half the things I actually meant to. I got so afraid of it that I basically just stopped altogether, and it actually ended up hurting my grade a few times even though I had opinions and answers that I could have shared but had too much social anxiety to speak up.

At the end of my freshman year, I got a job at the St. James Tearoom. They told me I'd be working in the gift shop, and that I would have to verbally, eye-contact, personally greet every single guest who came into the restaurant. I attempted to mask my terror, because I really wanted that job. It turns out that being forced to talk to strangers all day was extremely beneficial to me.

Now, don't get me wrong. It took me YEARS of being forced to talk to people before I was actually somewhat comfortable with it. There are still some people who come into the tearoom that I have trouble engaging. But, on the whole, I'm actually beginning to enjoy it. People are really interesting. And! Also! Who would have thunk it? They often think you're pretty interesting too. People love it when I share an interesting little fact, make a quirky quip, or get excited that we have some random thing in common.

Forcing myself to put myself out there at the Tearoom has also helped me get past my anxieties of speaking up in class, articulating what's wrong with me to the doctor, actually getting danced with at social dances, and not being absolutely petrified to go out and try new things with new groups of people and making new friends. I know that for a lot of you, all of that stuff may just come naturally, but trust me, this is a HUGE STEP FOR ME. Even this blog is a huge step! I am putting my thoughts and opinions on display for the world! Which brings me to the next thing...

It's okay for me to have opinions.
This one has really hit me in the face over this past year. See, for a while there, I was trying to make everyone else in my life happy - happy with me, in particular. I would try to figure out what their opinions were, and try to tailor mine to fit, or at least not clash with, theirs. Being the middle child, I was used to being the mediator between my older brother and my younger brother. I would try to see both sides of whatever issue and try to come to some sort of compromise so that everybody would be happy and things would just be hunky-dory and we could all sit around and hold hands and eat marshmallows.

Then, I discovered that normal people have opinions, and some people even enjoy arguing. I do not enjoy arguing, or really any kind of conflict in general. So, I assumed that opinions, or at least airing one's opinions, brought about discord and disdain.

But opinions are good. You need to have them. And it's totally okay if they're different than someone else's. If you can have good, solid reasons for why you have the opinion you do, great! If those reasons are different than someone else's and they don't agree with you, great! Of course, you should be willing to hear people out, see other sides of issues, and investigate where you have questions, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't form an opinion on anything just because you feel like you might not have all the information. Opinions can change, and that's fine too. Just take the time to think deeply and carefully about things, and don't be afraid to share what you've found.

I have some pretty fantastic people in my life.
I knew this one all along, but seriously, I am surrounded by thoroughly awesome people who challenge, grow, love, and support me through all the crazy things life throws at me. I can't tell you how lucky I feel to be able to call my family members some of my best friends in the whole world, and to have such a wonderful group of friends that I know I can always count on. I'm going to miss you all so much when I'm away. Blah blah blah, sappy sappy, I lurve you guys muches 'n stuff. Ok! Moving on before I start blubbering.

I'm stronger and more capable than I think I am.
College has brought a lot of crazy stuff in my life. I've had to deal with some really painful, confusing, scary things, but you know what? I still came out of it alright. I've accomplished things I never thought I could, I've overcome insecurities and personal failings, I've gotten better audition results than I ever hoped for, I've completed projects, I've had my works performed, I've overcome physical setbacks, I've pushed through health issues and healed from injuries, I've survived heartbreak, I've learned how to keep moving forward. I graduated college, guys.

I'm still me.
Lots of things have changed. I'd like to think I've gotten more mature, more responsible, etc. I know how to really think deeply about and critically analyze things. I've made a lot of mistakes. My thoughts and opinions on a lot of things have changed, grown, deepened. I've lost touch with people and grown closer to others. I've discovered I can write. I like wine now. I've learned that I don't have to do everything and be everything for everybody and that that's okay. I use some bad words sometimes. I listen to different music than I listened to in high school. I've done some things that I regret and that I can't take back. I've done some really awesome things.

They say that you change the most when you're in college. Maybe that's true. I certainly know I've changed a lot. But I'm still me. That is never going to change. Who I am, fundamentally, at my core, will never be anything other than Ellie. That's pretty comforting as I try to navigate this next phase of my life when I'm still trying to figure out how a compass works and life suddenly hands me a sextant.
(That's this thing, just in case you were wondering>>>)   

God is good.
There have been times, particularly this past year, where I couldn't see that. I got caught up in the things I could see and couldn't make sense of. I doubted the relevancy and reliability of the Bible and doubted if my faith was worth having at all. But through my doubts, questions, prying, searching, and stubbornness, God was able to work with all of it. He showed me exactly the kinds of proof I needed to show me that he's real and alive and at work.

If you're in a place where you're starting to think that maybe God is just something we humans make up to make ourselves feel better, feel free to talk to me about it. I've been there and totally get where you're coming from. I don't have nearly the room on this blog to go into all the details, but if you want to check it out, Mark Biltz' research on the blood moons and Jewish feast days will kind of blow your mind. Seriously, you can't make that stuff up.

What's really amazing to me is just how personal God has shown himself to be in my life, even when I resist with everything I have. He will never give up on me. He'll always try to call me back, using the very traits and propensities that oppose him, and turning them around to make my faith stronger than ever. Now, this doesn't let me off the hook. It's true that God will keep pursuing me and calling me, but I have the choice to answer or ignore that call. I have the choice to explore my doubts and really try to find answers, or just dismiss everything and turn my back on my faith because there are things about it that I don't understand. That's not how I want to live my life. I want to live my life with hope, and hope always springs out strongest when it stands in the face of pain, fear, and uncertainty. And the greatest hope is knowing that we never have to face our pain, fear, and uncertainty alone.

L'chaim!

Holy proscenium, Batman! It's been a long time since I've been on here!

Why has it been such a long time since I've been on here? LIFE.

Seriously, so much life has been happening this year, it's insane. I feel like I've hardly had enough time to think and take it all in. So much of it seems so unreal. I think it's finally started to catch up with me though, since instead of being at work right now like I had planned, I am in bed with the stomach flu - perfect writing opportunity!

There have been a few moments here and there that have just been like, "Ok, life. I get it. Can you slow down a little? You may be overdoing it." There have been so many good life things and not so good ones, and it has been a little overwhelming.

Here's just some of the examples...

I'm playing Tzeitel in a production of Fiddler on the Roof on the 50th anniversary of the show under the direction of a New York guy who shared a dressing room with Topol. One of my best friends moved back, but started having health issues that she's never had to deal with before. I found out I qualified to submit a preliminary application for the Rhodes, Marshall, and Mitchell scholarships to possibly (very very very slight possibility) to go to grad school in the UK. My grandma is almost 90 and has been weaker than any of us have ever seen her before, so my mom is living with her right now. My dad is trying to get a new job off the ground. TONS of my friends (quite a few of whom are younger than me...) are getting engaged. Another friend of mine is a missionary with YWAM and is traveling all across the world. My older brother is planning on going to Spain to teach English this fall. My little brother is graduating high school. I'm graduating college.

Last night, as I was driving to go to swing dancing with my little brother, life kind of hit us in the face. He said something like, "Dag, yo. It's halfway through March," which led to "Dag, yo. It's halfway through the semester," which led to "Dag, yo. It's halfway through our last semester of high school/college," which led to "Dag, yo. I'm moving to LA in August," which led to incoherent-freak-out-kind-of-happiness-but-also-nostalgia-"I'm-gonna-miss-you-so-much-blubber-blubber-blubber"-fest-on-the-highway time.

I'm moving to LA in August.

By. Myself.



I was recently accepted for the Disney College Program for the upcoming fall semester. I'll be working costume crew, and hopefully, once the semester is over, auditioning for shows/parades - basically whatever I can get into to support my writing while I get myself established. That's the plan at the moment, anyway.

Sooooooo crazy exciting! Like, ahhhh! Dude! But at the same time, it's a little daunting, to say the least...okay, the very very least. Let's be real. It's terrifying.

And part of me wonders if it's really the right thing. If it's really going to happen. Am I supposed to leave everybody I know and go out and do this crazy fun thing? What if I'm really supposed to do something else? Stay here? Go be a humanitarian in some third-world country? Am I being selfish?

Truth is, I don't know. I can't know until I go out there and try things. This is just the beginning. Everybody has to go face the real world at some point, right? And everybody is different. Everyone's journey is different, and everyone has something unique that they can do to make the world a little better. I'm gonna go try to find mine.

And it's not like I'm going out of the country. This is the modern age of instantaneous communication! I'm so happy for Skype. All of you need to Skype me, k? K.

Hey, you know what I just found out? Tzeitel means "Princess." No, seriously, I just found that out. Crazy. Heeee :D Anyways...

You know, really, when you think about it, I guess running away to eventually become a Disney Princess may not exactly be the classic "growing up" move. But also, when you think about it, even though they're kid's movies, the Disney Princess movies are about just that - growing up. Something happens where things can't stay the same way that they've always been. Some scary, horrible, bad things happen too. That's where choices have to be made, courage has to be found, and the heroines face the impossible. But those things don't happen to put things back the way they were at the beginning of the story. Everything changes. It has to. Mulan has to save China!!!!



Yes. I know, okay? But you get my point.

Change is scary, but it's a good thing. I'm 22, I have to grow up sometime.

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Pff, just kidding. You guys know I'll never really grow up :P

Welp, in closing, I think it's appropriate that we take a little lesson from Fiddler, since it has been eating most of my life lately. We don't have to be afraid of changes and challenges. Even when your world gets turned upside down, you never stop being who you are. Take risks, push the status quo, but never give up on your family. After everything seems darkest, you can walk proudly into the future.

So, here's to Life. L'chaim.

Reflection and Resolution

I'm ready for 2013 to be over. I am sooooooooooo ready for 2013 to be over. It was a huge year for discovery and change, but not necessarily all the good kind. In 2013, I discovered a lot of things about myself - a lot of the things about myself that I like to ignore, or hate to admit are there. This year has exposed many insecurities, many weaknesses, has highlighted my tendency to be sullen and despondent whenever things aren't going my way, my laziness, my pride, and the way I can get so annoyed by some tiny little thing, and then lash out with unkind words and a disrespectful attitude for something that really shouldn't matter. This year has opened up the cracks in my faith and revealed my doubts. This year has shown my tendency not toward trust, but toward doubt, self-protection, and isolation.

But that's not all that 2013 taught me. It also taught me I can change, grow, and move forward.

One major event of 2013 was Carnegie Hall. We had literally been looking forward to it all year. My mom got a call New Year's Day from Jason Paulk, the conductor of the concert, asking if her choir would join a few others from around the state to sing Vivaldi's Gloria in Carnegie Hall in November. We were floored. It had challenges - mostly monetary - but this trip was so perfect and came from nowhere, we knew we had to go for it, so we did.

All year long, we were fundraising, planning, and rehearsing. It started to feel unreal, like it was turning into this vague thing somewhere far off in the future that we'd never actually get to. I just kind of got into a rhythm and never really thought about the reality of the thing much.

That seemed to be a pattern of 2013, falling into a rhythm. I fell into habits and took things for granted. I wasn't paying as much attention to my friends and family as I probably should have been, because I was in a relationship - a relationship that was quickly becoming a habit and a pattern too.

I tried to be the perfect girlfriend, and as I felt him slip farther and farther away, I got scared. I wasn't doing it right. There must be something wrong with me. I needed to try harder. I forgot who I was and what I wanted, and I just ended up pushing him away, not giving him what he really needed from me by just being honest and authentic.

So it ended, and I was devastated.

As a result of the emotional trauma, my health really went south. The doctors have run tons of tests, but they still can't figure out what's wrong with my stomach. That was really hard to deal with when I suddenly found myself without the sole person I had been depending on for so long. I sought out my closest friends, but two of them had already moved away earlier that summer, and four more moved away within three weeks of the breakup.

I felt lost and alone. I tried auditioning for a show, because surely that would keep me busy enough to be distracted from my feelings. I didn't even make it into the ensemble. I was upset at first, but then I saw it as an opportunity to really focus on dance again. I even bought a pair of pointe shoes and started practicing with them. It had been my dream to get on pointe for...basically forever. About a week before my instructor was going to let me use them in class, I sprained my back. I couldn't even come back to class for about five weeks, and even then, I could only do about half the things I was able to do before the injury - and forget about going on pointe anytime soon.

Devastation. Again.

For most of the year, I had prettymuch been ignoring God. Mostly because I was afraid of what I might hear if I tried to talk to him. I didn't want him to take anything away. It ended up getting taken away after all. So, I tried visiting a college ministry. Pretty soon, I was involved in projects around campus and found myself on the worship team. I always piped up in discussions and even became the leader of a small prayer group.

One girl from the leadership asked me if I would be interested in taking on a younger girl to disciple in the spring semester. She told me they had thought of me immediately because I seemed to be such a mature Christian. It was that moment that I really started to realize how fake I felt.

All semester long, I had been trying so hard to be this strong Christian with unwavering faith and trust in God, in spite of all the things that had been getting taken away from me. But secretly, I was angry, and I was really really scared. I was questioning a lot of things about my faith, about the validity and relevancy of the Bible, and whether there really was a God at all. I was questioning that maybe if I wasn't a Christian, could things have worked out with my boyfriend? If I wasn't a Christian, would I still be this miserable? But I felt so guilty and horrible for thinking those things, that I pretended I wasn't having any of those thoughts at all. I thought, if I say I believe enough, if I do enough Christian-y ministry things enough, maybe it'll actually start to be true.

But as the year wore on, it wasn't working. I was still mad about the way things had happened to me that fall, and that I was still stuck in the same pain, confusion, and guilt from the end of the relationship that seemed to kick it all off. It was November, and it would have been a year, had he not broken up with me four months earlier. Everything in the air felt like it did back then, and it was driving me insane. He wasn't seeing me, he wasn't recognizing how I felt and how much he had hurt me, and I couldn't let that go. I was going to sing in Carnegie Hall in just a couple of weeks, and it was like it didn't matter.

The trip finally came and I tried so hard to be excited. And I was. It really was exciting, and I saw so many amazing things. But I kept watching my friends. They were in wonderful, sweet, super godly, amazing relationships, and they were seeing all these things too, and sharing them with the person they loved most. I remembered back in March, I think it was Easter actually, when my boyfriend and I went out for pizza and talked about the possibility of him coming along on the trip. Every cool thing we saw in New York, I watched those three pairs of my friends hold hands, whisper, giggle, and kiss, and I felt my loneliness keenly. I wished he was there to see it all with me. I thought of all the places we said we'd travel to. I remembered the trip to Seattle we went on together in the summer, and the absolutely wonderful day we had just exploring the city, getting lost and drenched, but laughing and holding each other as we finally crashed on his mom's couch. I was in New York City with a group of 70 people, and I felt incredibly alone, and I felt like it was my fault. My friends were doing it right. I saw how wonderfully Christian they all were, and became drowned by regret and resentment. I wasn’t happy like them – could never be happy like them – because I had messed up. I didn’t do the relationship thing right, or the Christian thing right, so I was being punished and didn’t deserve another chance. But that wasn’t at all what God was trying to say to me over that trip.

Things began to change on Sunday, the day of our concert. That morning, we went to a service at Times Square Church. I honestly wasn’t looking forward to it at all, but of course I couldn’t let anyone know that. We walked in, and it wasn't at all what I expected - I saw this beautiful refurbished theater with frescoed ceilings and ornate wood carvings all over. The place even had gorgeous bathrooms. There were chandeliers in the freaking bathrooms, people. I started to actually feel a little excited to be there.

When the service started, the massive gospel choir sang with incredible feeling about God’s majesty. I felt like I didn’t belong there. Then, the blind preacher got up to speak. He talked about Peter when he denied Christ, but brought focus to the fact that Jesus told Peter that he would deny him. Jesus knew that Peter’s unbelief, his questions, his shame, and his failure were inevitable. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how vehemently Peter argued his steadfast trust and loyalty, he would fail. But when the rooster crowed, it wasn’t the end of Peter’s story. God wasn’t finished with him. He would go on to do amazing things, far more than he ever could have imagined, partly because of his failure. Jesus knows that if we follow him, we’re going to doubt, be afraid, question who we are and everything we believe in, and fail. But when we do, he’s not finished with us. Yes, we’ll fail, but his purpose is never to leave us there. He loves us, and wants us to become something greater, something more like himself, so that we can show that love to the world.

I felt his love for me in that church, and it was something I hadn’t felt for a long time. I knew I had a concert later that night, but I belted the closing songs louder than I ever had before. I wanted to know that God – the God of love, redemption, and restoration.

When we were finally on stage in Carnegie Hall, I started to grasp God’s love for me. But in the middle of the concert, in a solo movement where we weren’t singing, all the regret and the condemnation that I’d been harboring came back to me. But I was not going to let it ruin that concert for me. The next movement, I concentrated on the words I was singing. Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Hear our supplication. Hear my supplication. You alone are holy. 

You are the only one who can bring victory over the pain and injustice of this world, because one day, we will be with you in the glory of the spirit.

When the last chord reverberated through the hall, the echoes of our voices faded, and the applause began, I recognized the indescribably beautiful moment that God had given me. That moment was made all the more beautiful by the feeling of freedom and triumph over the guilt and condemnation that had been holding me back.

After we sang, we were able to go out into the audience and listen to the other piece on the program, Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna, one of the most beautiful choral works ever written. This piece spoke of God’s love and redemption, but most of all, hope. I followed along in the translation printed in our programs. I closed my eyes and became wrapped in the sound and the words that told of hope and peace beyond struggle, redemption beyond pain, and I wept. I knew in that moment that I didn’t have to fear the future, that God doesn’t just take things away from us. He had given me that concert, but had spoken to me so gently and so personally to remind me that he will never give up on me no matter what I do or where I go. He loved me at my darkest. He gave me something beautiful, and I know he’s not finished with me, and that I can look forward with hope.

Now, even after all this, I still struggle. I struggle with sadness, doubt, fear, frustration, and I still have massive questions about God and my faith that maybe won't be answered for a while. But I know there is a God, and I know that I am loved. Because I am loved, I need to share that love with the people I come in contact with. Because I am loved, I can hope.

2014 is certainly going to bring its challenges. I'm graduating college in May...with a Creative Writing degree. The prospect is daunting, to say the least. I'm hoping to move out of the state and establish myself on my own. It's really freaking scary, honestly, but I'm actually starting to get excited. Sure, I know this year is going to have challenges, sadness, disappointment, and lots and lots of change, but it's exciting. I want to look forward to it with the hope of new possibility, not look backward at 2013 with regret of the bad choices I made or the stupid things I did or the tactless things I said. I want to be able to use them, remember them, and make better choices, do smarter things, and act with kindness, grace, and love toward those that I share my life with.

Most of all, I want to be joyful. I want to be where I am, wherever I happen to be. I don't want to be stuck in the past or be paralyzed by fear of the future - I don't live in either of those places, so neither should my heart. Sure, I can learn from the past and prepare for the future, but I don't want either of them to rule me. I'm growing and learning and feeling and thinking and loving and being, right where I am. And I want to go out and do things. I want to go places and make life happen. There are endless possibilities and I'm itching to explore and discover - to let go and push my limits farther and farther.

I don't have everything figured out. I don't know exactly where I'm going. I haven't found resolutions to all my problems, pain, and questions, but I guess that's just part of this whole crazy growing up thing.


"This year is a sealed envelope;
With apprehensive hope
We brace for anything.
I swear, I understand that nothing changes that,
The past will be the past,
But the future is brighter than any flashback."

~Sleeping At Last, 'January White'



( I promise, Sleeping At Last is not the only band I ever listen to - their lyrics just happen to be so dang appropriate :P )

Being Type-Cast

I've been in a few plays over the years. I've played roles ranging from crotchety old lady, to Jane Austen heroine, to bored father (Yes, I did say father. That's not a typo.) However, those were the anomalies. Mostly, especially in most recent productions, I have played the frail-yet-selfless forgiver. This character endures dark, frightful, inhumane circumstances, yet at the end, is able to turn to those who caused those circumstances and respond to them in grace, forgiveness, and love.

The nameless prisoner was tortured day after day to give up the names of her compatriots, but instead of hating her captor and torturer, she chose to see him as he surely once was: a beautiful, innocent child. She told him of Saul, a man who tortured and killed countless Christians in the first century, but how his life was touched by the love of Christ, changing him into one of the greatest apostles in history. By trying to understand her torturer, she showed him grace.

Mary's husband had been killed. She and her small daughter were forced to flee with a small group of Christians to an abandoned church in the mountains. While there, her daughter ate tainted food, contracted botulism, and died. Their group was discovered by government agents, and one of her dearest friends had just been shot because she refused to deny her faith. Instead of running, instead of screaming and crying and fighting, Mary calmly accepted her death, urging her friends to look forward to glory rather than be consumed by the present injustice.

Edgar was exiled, forced to flee for his life. He had been betrayed by his brother and was now pursued by his father. The king was corrupt and insane. Instead of escaping the country, Edgar stayed close by and feigned madness in order to stay close to the king and his father so that he might protect them as they became more and more vulnerable. He forgave his father for the misunderstanding and kept him from committing suicide. Even when Edgar did exact revenge on his brother for betraying him and his attempt to usurp the throne, his brother had a change of heart at the last, and Edgar responded by calling him, "Worthy Prince." He exacted justice, but never gave in to bitterness.

Helen Burns, only eleven years old, lived much of her life away from her loving family in a harsh school for girls. The schoolmasters were cruel, making the girls suffer humiliation, hunger, and psychological and physical abuse. She quietly defied them by befriending a lonely girl named Jane Eyre, whom the girls had been ordered not to speak to. Soon however, Helen became gravely ill. As Jane sat by her deathbed, Helen charged Jane to follow the example given by Jesus to bless those who curse you, forgive the unforgivable, and love the loveless.

Betsie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman in her late sixties, died slowly of illness and abuse in the Nazi concentration camp, Ravensbruck. She was sent there for being suspected of harboring Jews in her home during the Nazi occupation of Haarlem. Her entire life was devoted to serving others, pouring out her very soul to show the love of Christ to every single person she came in contact with. In her days at Ravensbruck, she prayed with and read the Bible to the women in the barracks. She strengthened her sister, Corrie, that they must "give thanks, even for the fleas" that infested their bunks. It turned out that the Nazi guards would not enter their barracks because of the fleas, which afforded Betsie and Corrie the opportunity to spread Christ's message of love and hope to the fellow prisoners. As she is dying in the arms of her sister, after a horrendous beating by the Nazi guard, Lieutenant Metzler, Betsie urges her sister to "care for and love them - the guards, the soldiers." Her love extended even to those that everyone had just reason to abhor.

And I was asked to portray all these people. Over and over again, directors saw something in me that they believed could spread these messages. I would like to say it's because I'm like these people, that there's something in me that would be able to behave like them in those situations. But I'm not. The characters I get type-cast as are merely visions of the person I wish I was. But it has been an honor to tell their stories, and the opportunity to get inside their heads has truly changed my life.

One common theme that I've discovered, is that all these characters have taught me a great deal about forgiveness.

1. "I forgive you" does not mean the same thing as "It's okay".
Forgiving someone does not mean dismissing or ignoring the injustice done. What it does mean, is that you are no longer letting the injustice have a hold on you. What's done is done, and you are choosing to move forward. Forgiveness acknowledges that something went wrong, but that you refuse to let more wrong come from yourself by injuring that person back or harboring bitterness.

2. Forgiveness isn't the easy way.
It is easy to hate someone who has injured you. It feels good. That sense of vindication you get when you spew venom about that person to those around you, and you see them nod their heads in agreement - it feels really good. They made you suffer, so you delight in their suffering, or at least going over and over again in your head the reasons why they should suffer. I admit with shame that it is very easy for me to fall into this pattern. But that's not what forgiveness is. Let's say the wrong that the person did to you is the initial wound. Feelings of hatred, bitterness, and resentment, acts of spite, harsh words (to them or to your friends), and revenge are the shrapnel. If left in the wound, the shrapnel cuts deeper into your flesh, festers, gets infected, and spreads farther and farther until it consumes you. Forgiveness is the act of removing that shrapnel. And it's by no means easy. It hurts - god, does it hurt. But it hurts because it's starting to heal.

3. Learn to forget.
I struggle particularly with the "forget" half of "forgive and forget." I've always had a fantastic memory. My brothers hated playing those matching games with me when we were little because I always won, and usually quickly. I remember random details about people and random events and conversations in pretty vivid detail. My family makes fun of me, saying that I can quote an entire movie as long as I've seen it two times. It's an exaggeration, but really, not by that much.

I remember things, and I don't let go of them. I remember how someone hurt me in vivid detail, and all the feelings of the initial moment come flooding back to me. The wounds re-open, and the last thing I want to do is forgive the person for hurting me like that over and over again. What I need to do is resign those feelings, those memories, and move forward. Forgiveness does not live in the past, it lives in the present, in what positive things you can do now.

4. You need to forgive yourself.
This is another huge area of struggle for me, and again, has been my whole life. I cannot stand the thought of disappointing people, or especially God, and so I destroy myself any time I do. I should have been better, I should be better, and because I'm not, I'm a failure and don't deserve forgiveness, and especially not love.

If I'm to try to forgive and love those around me, how can I possibly do so if I refuse to do the same for myself? If I can't let go of anything I've done, how can I let go of others' mistakes? You must allow yourself to be forgiven, first by accepting the forgiveness of those you've failed or hurt, and second by forgiving yourself and allowing yourself to let go of it.

5. Forgive the way Christ forgave you.
There are so many beautiful examples of Christ's forgiveness. His entire life was devoted to the purpose. It is beautifully summed up in Romans 5:7-8, "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." In our sin, in our hatred of him, we injure God's heart beyond what we can fathom. But his love is so great that he chooses to die for us - to forgive us - while we are in the midst of spitting at his very name. If we have been forgiven of something so great as this, how can we stand by and withhold our forgiveness of others? And yet I consistently find myself acting as the pardoned debtor who throws a man in prison over a few denarii.

6. Forgiveness is a choice.
It is up to you to choose how to react to injustice and injury. You can respond by injuring them back, or you can choose to end the vicious cycle. Forgiveness is not just a choice you make at the moment of injury either. It is a daily choice. When I talk with my friends, I can choose to berate and complain about those who have hurt me, or I can choose to pray for them instead. When I interact with those who have hurt me, I can make sure they know exactly how angry I am, or I can reach out to them and see what I can do to help them, even if that means keeping my distance or getting uncomfortably close. When my mind wanders, I can choose to dwell on my pain, on fantasies of vindication, or I can choose to let it go, and instead focus on what I can do right now to make things better. Forgiveness does not live in the past, and neither should I. Forgiveness is about moving forward past the darkness to something beautiful.

7. "Love is greater."
The only possible way for this kind of forgiveness to take shape is through love. Love of our forgiven selves, love of the God and the people who have forgiven us, and love toward the people we have been hurt by. Without love, it is impossible to move past injustice, let go of pain, and show mercy and grace. We are called to be conduits of Christ's unfailing and unending love in this world, and the most important time for us to do that is when it's hardest.

Betsie Ten Boom knew this. She showed this kind of love every day of her life. She also knew she wouldn't be around to show it much longer. So, in her final moments in her sister's arms, she urged Corrie to "teach them that there is no pit so deep that He is not deeper still. Love is greater, Corrie. We must teach them that love is greater."


By no means have I perfected how to truly forgive and love people. I fail constantly. It was hard writing this blog, because it reminds me just how much I still have to work on. But I don't want to give up. I think I get type-cast for a reason. Sure, my real self may be a poor reflection of those I'm charged to portray, but they've all taught me something, and they've all challenged me to reach for something better - to try and be more like them. I hope that I will be able to face the Lieutenant Metzlers of my life, release them, and say, "Yes. Love is greater."