Maybe I'm Emo. Maybe I'm listening to Adele

Maybe I’m listening to Adele.

            Don’t judge me.

Maybe I had a great day.

Maybe I think I’m cute today.

            Don’t judge me.

Maybe I think I look like Shirley from What’s Happening with this short brown fro.

            I shouldn’t judge me.

Maybe I was updating my resume and CV and acknowledging the work I’ve been blessed to do in the world and it got me choked up.

Maybe I walked 10,000 steps for 3 days in a row and I’m still overweight.

Maybe I like my soft skin, my full body, my smile.

Maybe I’m getting older.

Maybe that’s better than the alternative.

Maybe I had a chance to speak to my mom, my cousin, my dear friends and find love, comfort, joy and support.

Maybe I am in love with a special woman.

            Don’t judge me.

Maybe I’m still listening to Adele.

Maybe I’m not a millionaire yet.

Maybe I already feel like one.

Maybe I’m not happy all the time.

Maybe I’m glad about that.

Maybe I appreciate the fluctuations.

Maybe they make me stronger.

Maybe Adele will sing me to sleep.

            Don’t judge me.

Maybe I just put my perfect little boy to sleep and he held me while I read to him and then sang him the goodnight song.

Maybe he told me I’m the best singer in the world.

Maybe I got on my knees at his bedside and started praying with him and then started thanking the creator so much I began crying.

Maybe my perfect little boy wiped my tears and told me he loves me and God loves me and it’s okay to cry happy tears.

Maybe just maybe this is the life of not only my dreams but of my conscious choosing.

Maybe just maybe this is heaven on earth.

Maybe this is perfection.

May Be.

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AGING

This aging shit just got real! Yesterday I went to get an eye exam I was about two years I'm overdue. I went in wanting to get new contacts, I’ve worn them on and off most of my life and I figured my prescription didn’t change that much so contacts (green?) and maybe a pair of sun glasses and that’s that.

The optometrist, Mr. Doctor Man completely burst my bubble! Not only did Mr. Doctor Man tell me that due to the normal aging process I would need progressives (glasses that have a built-in bifocal you can’t see – I guess). He also informed me that because my reading vision has degenerated, because of my age and my astigmatism I’m not a god candidate for contacts!!! What the actual fuck does that mean? Not a good candidate? Don’t I have eyes, working eyes? I thought that and being cataract free was the only requirement to get contacts! I am absolutely agog! So, then I inquired about Lasik. He told me that I would still need these fucking reader things even if I had the surgery!

Readers?! What the fuck is a Readers?! Old lady glasses that hang from your neck by a string? Fuck no! I’m only 43, not 63! No offense to 63 year olds or Reader wearers but…HELL NO! Not my circus, not my monkey!

Time for some anti-aging cryotherapy!

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Failing

Failing

I keep failing. I’m not upset by this word and if you are it’s ok. I don’t mind failure, well, I don’t mind failure in the same way I did 20 years ago. Failure 20 years ago was the end of the world and marked my doom and ultimate demise. Failure now is not so dramatic. Failure now feels more like a checklist of what doesn’t work and what not to do and how to do what I do even better.

I’ve been attempting to lose a substantial amount of weight for more than 20 years. I’m sure if you know me you have heard mention of such weight loss attempts, ad nauseam, it’s annoying I’m sure. There was a point when I lost about 60lbs, of the 100lbs plus pounds I intend to lose. I felt great about my 60lb weight loss accomplishment. Then I went thru some shitty life stuff and gained the weight back. Technically, I failed, however, I also learned what worked, how great it was to feel 60lbs lighter and one of the biggest lessons, that I definitely have the tools to navigate emotional traumas and setbacks better next time. So, when I lose 60 to 100lbs this time, and I will- mark it baby! I’ll have an even greater chance at long term success. And if I fail that time, I will figure out even more necessary support mechanisms to put in place for the next time.

Being an actor, I face rejection/failure constantly. Trust me out of 50 auditions maybe 1-5 actually lead to a booked job and that’s a good year! I failed at my first marriage, I failed at several relationships, I’ve failed friendships, I’ve failed and failed and failed. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had to work hard not to fall into a miserable state of depression over my failures, prayer, dancing, and anti-depressants are very helpful. Whatever works. At 43 years young I’m excited to be at the point where I’m proud of me for continuing to try and fail.

Like that fucking train, you know the one, the “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” Train. Except, I know I can, I know I can, I know I can! Cause I will keep not stop, and I will keep failing till I get there. I don’t know where there is, per se, but I’ve got 53 years more to figure it out!

HAZA! FAIL GREATLY TODAY!

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