[many happy returns]

I am 27 years old today.

It feels odd. I'm excited and terrified of this whole "growing up" concept. I mean...what does "growing up" really mean, anyway? Do people ever actually do that? I'm not sure. I've been reading the short stories of Simon Van Booy (please read his work...seriously), and I find myself completely entranced by his ability to write things that I have always thought, yet have never been able to express so eloquently.

Example:

Night can unmoor so many feelings; it is a relief we sleep through it. Night unravels the day and reinvents it for the first time. We may mean nothing to time, but to each other we are kings and queens, and the world is a wild benevolent garden filled with chance meetings and unexplained departures.

- The Secret Lives of People in Love, "Everything is a Beautiful Trick"

I wonder if things can happen too early or too late or if everything happens at exactly the right time. If so, how sad and beautiful.

- The Secret Lives..., "The Still But Falling World"

…realized…that anyone could love anyone under certain circumstances, and that life is a museum of small accidents.

- The Secret Lives..., "The Mute Ventriloquist"

Language is like looking at a map of somewhere. Love is living there and surviving on the land...there is no such thing as fate, but there are no accidents either. Love is like life but starts before and continues after - we arrive and depart in the middle.

- Love Begins in Winter, "Love Begins in Winter

We are not at home in the world because we imagine it is as we have become, full of nothing but yearning and forgetting and hoping for something so raw we can't describe it. We think of the world as the place of beginnings and ends, and we forget the in-between, and even how to inhabit our own bodies. And then in adulthood, we sit and wonder why we feel so lost.

- Love Begins in Winter, "Tiger, Tiger"

There's so much more I wish I could share, but please just read these short stories (and his novel, Everything Beautiful Began After) and underline the crap out of them as I did, if you wish (college taught me the beautiful concept of writing in books).

Anyway. Although it is supposed to rain later, at the moment it is 70 degrees and sunny and I am writing from my room where my windows are wide open, letting in fresh breeze that I can always feel from the lovely second story of this pretty little brownstone. I am not celebrating too much because of the approaching opening night of She Loves Me (get tickets, east coasters! http://www.interactproductions.org/), but plenty of people are making me feel special and loved today and I appreciate it more than I can say. I got the BEST package from my wonderful family, which included: homemade granola, nutella, cookies & chocolates, swedish fish & sour patch fruits, TINY post it notes (so tiny!!), sassy napkins (wine! how classy people get shitfaced), peanut butter, jelly, applesauce, tuna, and a beautiful card...I mean it's everything I need, really :o) I kind of burst into tears upon opening this package and discovering all of these treats...I blame it on my current over-emotional state, haha (but when am I not over-emotional...ahhh).

Anyway, my birthday. Wow. Birthdays are strange as one gets older. Strange in a pleasant way, yes, but I am also nostalgic (surprise, surprise) for the feeling of younger birthdays. There is an indescribable excitement that has somehow gotten lost as I've gotten older. It creeps up a little, but it's not the same.

I'm happy to be here, happy to be alive, happy to be 27. Let us see what this year brings.

[amanda]

[that's just the way it is]

HELLO!

I am alive. Busy up to my earlobes, but alive...and do I not love to be busy up to my earlobes? Things are spinning about like mad in my daily life and I have not had the time to sit and write of my reflections, which is a damn shame as I have so many!!! Work has, as always, been eating away at my sleep and energy; however, what would I do without a job? Plenty...let's not think about that, because I'll just get depressed, haha. But in all seriousness, I am thankful to have a job. I have also been in rehearsals for the musical She Loves Me with InterAct Productions in Maplewood, NJ, which has been an absolute dream. I'm working with some very talented people, and I am able to play a role that has been an unknown dream to me, as I just heard about this musical before the auditions. If you are in the tri-state area, you should seriously consider checking out this lovely little show - here is the link to the facebook event: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=211426572250470

I am always reminded of what must be my true passion for theatre and the arts when I spend hours of travel, memorization, rehearsal, etcetera on a project when I won't see a penny of money...and I don't even care or mind. The reason I would love to someday get paid for this is so that I can do ONLY this, I can spend my days rehearsing and writing and singing and dancing and playing and learning and growing as an artist - and that would be all! Aside from good times with friends and family, all of that other fun stuff. Someday...

Anyway, I must run, just wanted to update a short bit...hope I will have time for a good entry soon. Love to all, xoxo.

[amanda]

title quote: "That's Just the Way It Is," Bruce Hornsby :o)

[goodnight irene, goodnight irene, i'll see you in my dreams]

Hurricane Irene.

Aside from a spot in my molding where rain droplets entered in the night (seriously, can I live in a bedroom WITHOUT rain coming through the window? I mean...really...), I think I slept through most of her wrath. Right now it is clear and windy-ish, and I've looked a pics of lower Manhattan and Coney Island, where there seems to be a bit of flooding (and in other areas as well), but Hurricane Irene has now been renamed Tropical Storm Irene (or perhaps just "Tropical Storm," I don't know if they get names). I think some people are going to be a bit "miffed," as my dad would say, at some of the over-preparation, but I think that would be silly. We should be thankful that Irene did not hit as hard as it was predicted she would. And there are still aspects of the storm that created difficulty, there was flooding, there was power outage, so it's not like some people didn't experience some hard knocks.

Another thing I noticed on Friday, when I was out and about with my roommate preparing for our possible week stay indoors should the power fail, etc, is that New York City in crisis mode is a city of friendliness, compassion, gentility, and politeness. While we did have to wait in lines at Target and the grocery store for 30+ minutes, there was a sense of calm about it, and everyone was saying, "excuse me," if they had to pass by a tight crowd. There could have been pushing and shoving, but none was seen. People were smiling and interacting with strangers, and I found that to be a very beautiful thing. At the end of the day, we are here for each other and wish each other well. I remember people saying the same thing after 9.11.01, that NYC showed its true colors - colors of beauty and and acceptance, reflections of the many colors of the city. At its core, humanity is good, at least I think so. I get upset when people go against that goodness. If I were alive in the 60s I would have been the biggest hippie ever. Love and peace, man. No war. Hell, maybe I would have even burned my bra. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Hurricane Irene.

The thing that we will feel is the aftermath. For the first time in HISTORY, seriously, history, MTA shut down the subway system...they also shut down the buses, the bridges, Amtrak, NJ Transit, airports...so getting all that up and running again is gonna be a bit of a bitch. Perhaps another day off from work? Don't mind if I do...

Anyway, I'm going to go plan on some canned food meal ideas with my roommate...haha. I think we prepared for dear old Irene the perfect amount - everything we spent money on we can use, power outage or no power outage. I need some coffee...and a nap.

[amanda]

title quote: "Goodnight Irene," Jim Reeves

[will you be there?]

All right blog, it's you and me. Some quality time. Starting out with some inspirational singing by the King of Pop, Michael Jackson, I am eager to begin. Referring to my notes is a little hilarious, as finding a way to tie everything together is a ridiculous prospect, so I will just let you enjoy the spastic nature of it all. In a way, that is an appropriate way to go, as that is my main style of communication - it all makes sense in my head, but once it's out there, only the brave and willing can connect the dots.

I will begin with a more detailed written (and quite odd) note, something I observed one night (7.16.11) on the N train as we crossed the bridge to Manhattan:

What is it about men eating alone that makes me want to cry? On the N train, and across from me is a guy, probably mid-30s, kind of odd: dirty oversized peach and white Nike shirt, highwater khakis, white socks, black dress shoes, big headphones (all of this could also be considered trendy, haha) and eating homemade rice and veggies in a tupperware, smiling and bopping his head a bit to his music. Finishes half, puts the rest in a ratty old backpack for later. Never loses his smile. Observes those around him with unabashed and candid curiosity. Does he know I'm writing about him? That I'm observing too?

That was it. I don't know why this person fascinated me so much to write about him that night, but I could probably do this about multiple people every day. This world is full of people just begging to be watched, and most of us are either too polite or too absorbed in our own selves to do it.

I'm going to go through my other notes now...although there is one that just says, "notebook" and I'm really not sure where I was going with that one...so I may skip it, haha. Onward, readers!

So...another question. Do you think people ever really listen? Or is everyone just planning the next thing they are going to say? Acting classes go over this topic over and over again - just because you have a script and you know what your next line is, the stakes must be high, just like real life, you must listen to the line(s) before yours so you can determine how you say the next thing - would you even say it at all? Obviously you should, as that is the way a lot of theatre works; however, it's a difficult task, one that must be practiced and perfected in order to give a true to life performance. But is it true to life? Sometimes I feel like we could all listen a lot more in real life as well. I am guilty of this too - sometimes I'm so excited about my responses or additions to conversations that all I am thinking about is making the biggest statement possible with my thoughts and opinions - of affecting the other person or other people around me so that we can further stimulate our insights and ideas. Yet when I am saying my bits of wisdom (or nonsense), I can see in the other person's eyes and face - they are planning their next bit! Granted, we cannot plan without hearing what the others are saying, but too often we are only half-hearing - we need to LISTEN, we need to HEAR EACH OTHER, or what is the point? We cannot grow otherwise. And all the better if someone is challenging our thoughts - either we gain new perspective or we strengthen our own. I am going to work on this, and it is a challenge I give to all of you.

Next up - this will be short - when one is sending a text and it takes a really long time to send, long enough that one thinks of canceling it, either to write something far more witty or to cease sending at all, is this a warning? Are we too careless with texts? They can be so misinterpreted, you cannot always give the inflections and tones you desire - people get in fights because of misperceived text messages. I remember when I had my friends' home numbers memorized, and oftentimes when I called them, a parent would answer and I would have to say, "Hi Mr./Mrs. So-and-so, this is Amanda Carson, is so-and-so there?" Haha, that wasn't even that long ago. And now, we have all these numbers stored in our little phones, no need for memorizing or personal greetings, we can just type in a series of words, most of them abbreviated, and that is more common these days. A self-proclaimed bad phone person, I will admit that I probably text more than call people these days. But I want to get phone talking back. We all claim to be so busy, and we are, people are busier than ever these days. However, the world is also moving a lot faster, and we can take the time to sit down and call one another on the phone and talk with human voices instead of with fingers. Another goal on my list, put it on yours.

So, I am sort of half-introvert/half-extrovert. When I first meet people, I tend to be rather shy, I don't like to say much, I like to figure out my surroundings and the people involved, etc. Yet, as my family and good friends can tell you, I am quite a talkative and silly person. I can be exceedingly vulgar and inappropriate, my humor rivals that of the most perverted teenage boys out there, and I have a biting sarcasm that is sometimes so easily mistaken for seriousness that I have to do damage control. I think there are thousands of facets to everyone's personalities, that is what makes humans so interesting. No one can ever be completely "figured out" - I highly doubt anyone will ever figure themselves out, to be honest. Different parts of us come out at different times, most of the time it has to do with how much we trust those around us. How much we can trust them to accept our less attractive qualities, to understand our moods and appreciate the good with the bad. Some people find this trust in others quickly, others never do. Yet I do find myself annoyed with the people who take credit for making someone who they are. Let me explain further - when a shy person starts to make jokes, or begins to speak a little louder, to offer more opinions in conversation, to essentially become more vulnerable with those around her, there are some people who make comments like, "Oh my gosh, see, I knew I could make you funny," or, "I love that you are changing, that you are becoming funnier/sassier/etc." NO. This person did not CHANGE her, they did not make her this way, they cannot take credit for FINDING HER PERSONALITY FOR HER, it was always there, SHE just chose which parts to bring out, and when to do so. It works the other way too - someone who is more outgoing from the beginning, who seems unafraid and constantly happy, who looks cool even when making a fool of himself - whenever this person has a bad day or feels like taking things inward instead of outward; whenever he wants to be quiet and left alone, to take a break from being the entertainer, there are those who are quick to say, "What's wrong, why are you in bad mood, what did I do to make you this way?" Again, this is just another side, loud people like to be quiet, quiet people like to be loud. We are not one dimensional creatures. No one "finds" your personality for you, you cultivate it on your own. Yes, it is influenced by those around you and your experiences to a certain degree, but no one can take credit of bringing you out or reigning you in. I'll get off my soapbox now :o)

I thought I had more notes, but that seems to be it. I feel Autumn pushing its way through the heat of Summer, and this excites me. I am working on improving myself physically, spiritually, and mentally, and the cooling of the weather is the perfect way to begin. The blog is back in business, friends, and I would love your comments and insights to my crazy ramblings. Until next time, lovers.

[amanda]

title quote: "Will You Be There," Michael Jackson, Dangerous

[time, where did you go, why did you leave me here alone?]

Hello all!

Should you be lovely enough to be following my blog, and even more lovely as to be wondering where the HELL I have been, well let me just say, time has been taken away from me recently. Until last night, I had not slept more than two hours a night since last Sunday, the 7th. Ridiculous, no?

HOWEVER.

I have been writing blog notes in my little notebook I carry around, AND I have a nearly free weekend approaching, so get ready for some spastic and interesting thoughts and questions, my friends.

Get. Ready.

[amanda]

title quote: "Time," by Chantal Kreviazuk

[time for you to go out to the places you will be from]

It is excruciatingly hot here right now. Like...I don't even know what to do with myself besides lie around in as little clothing as possible. We do have a little window air conditioning unit, and she's doing her best, she really is, but it's hard to keep up with 110 degrees. Ugh. I would much rather be cold, at least you can layer and snuggle.

When it was merely warm outside last week, instead of this oven we are living in at the moment, I did some neighborhood exploring. It actually took some visitors arriving for me to do this...somehow I inherited my father's trait of "embarrassment whilst I am inside purchasing establishments" - basically, I feel guilty (and stupid) going into stores because I feel like I am in the way, and I worry that if I just want to look around and not get anything that everyone will judge me or something. It's really dumb, I'm aware, but it's difficult to shake it. My siblings and I used to chuckle when we would go shopping with my dad, because he would always go up to the sales person in a preciously awkward manner and say, "Um, excuse me, I would like to purchase this." What followed was either an amused grin by the sales person while he/she said, "Well...yes...I can help you with that," or an amused grin by the same person while he/she said, "Well...yes....you go over to the counter to do that." It was really cute, but the more I analyze my adult characteristics, there is something eerily similar to the way I conduct myself in a store. I appear to be apologizing throughout my visit. Odd. Anyway, some friends were in town and we were walking around Park Slope, where we visited a few stores, including these two amazing vintage places, Odd Twin and Beacon's Closet. Beacon's Closet has another location in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, for those of you who would like to check it out (it's actually pretty well known, but because of my quality explained above, I've only just recently ventured inside). Anyway, I found some amazing gems at both of these fashion hide-aways, and definitely plan to check them out again, as well as sell some things of my own. I couldn't help noticing, however, that there are two reasons people go thrift/vintage shopping. I've always known it was for trendiness, and I have some friends that have always been experts at finding amazing pieces at Goodwill and Salvation Army, as well as independent places like the ones I've recently explored. New York City is especially in a vintage stage...whether it's 80s vintage or 40s, if you can make it work and it looks like you took it out of someone else's closet then you succeed. I am constantly amazed at the myriad of styles strutting around this ridiculous urban landscape...and I love it because my idea of a cute outfit changes on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. One of these many looks is throwback-whatever-decade-you-choose (there really isn't a better choice, as I said before, own it and you will do just fine). It makes most of it's appearances in downtown Manhattan and Brooklyn, but the rest of the city sees quite a lot of it as well. Needless to say, I was excited to search around for a high-waisted acid wash jean skirt and possibly a sheer high-collared blouse, among other things. Most people in the store were the same. However, in the midst of all this, two men came into the store to sell some clothes, and on their way out, one of them said to the other, "Man, can you believe some people are so poor they have to buy all their clothes here?" Thus, I was confronted by the the other reason these stores are in business (as well as being confronted by the sad ignorance of the gentleman selling the clothes, because really, who says that?)...while some people have the luxury of getting excited about a neon patterned crop top that just happens to be $8.95, other people shop at second-hand stores for necessity. And it struck me that the possibility exists for extreme annoyance and even hatred for these hipsters (and stylish non-hipsters, as I don't like to identify myself with this sub-culture; however, there is no doubt that they are, perhaps, some of the most frequent vintage shoppers in the city) who run around, flaunting these used, cut, and/or shredded (at times self-cut and shredded...I'm guilty) articles of fashion. It reminds me of people my parents' age looking at a pair of distressed and ripped up jeans in disgust while muttering, "Well if they're going to cost that much they should at least be in good condition," or something like that. It's difficult for me to put this observance into words, because I fear making a wrong assumption or saying something ignorant, but please know that these thoughts are coming from the purest and most noble of hearts (well, when I am at my best, anyway). But doesn't this strike any of you as odd, that a place of fashionable experimentation for some is an embarrassing life-sentence for others? I don't know. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. I generally read too much into everything, so I wouldn't be surprised.

I am wondering if the search for happiness is obsolete. Some say it's doing what makes you happy. In some ways I agree but I also find that far too general. What if too many things make you happy? What if you know what makes you happy but you don't know how to get there? It's not just a matter of knowing. According to Nivea (TM), happiness comes in an orange blossom and bamboo something-or-other body wash. While it does smell quite nice, using it hasn't helped me discover my answers to life's questions so I think they are being a bit too egotistical, personally. Is happiness doing what you love, no matter where you are or how many people know you're doing it? I am beginning to think so...

...I think I'll elaborate on the rest of that subject in my personal journal.

In other news, I finally saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (part 2) last night and was thoroughly affected by the experience. That woman (J.K. Rowling) has given me more insight to life and death and being a good person than any Sunday School class ever did. I know some people like to berate and belittle the choices made when turning these beloved books into cinematic adventures, but I simply enjoy seeing bits and pieces brought to life with actors who, in my mind, perfectly resemble the characters I so love and adore. Well done, congrats all around, and instead of grieving that the experience is "over," as some are saying, I am just happy that I can pick up any of these seven books and/or eight movies any time I want and escape to a place that is cherished by many across the globe.

Again, relying on others to help me speak.

It is just so - incredibly difficult, you know? To try to create something. And to know that there are so many people waiting to criticize or capitalize and all you want to do is make something that will connect with other people so that we all won't feel so profoundly alone. And we are all so profoundly alone. Why does it have to be so hard to try to cure that in some way. It...is..so...difficult.

- Wyler, As Bees In Honey Drown, Douglas Carter Beane

[amanda]

[title quote: "closing time," semisonic]

[i'll let you be in my dreams if i can be in yours]

Where has my Muse gone? Apparently whatever Muse I have is on summer vacation.

I did some background work for a new webseries-turned-TV-show called Girlhattan (formally known as The SkinNY) last weekend, which was pretty fun. However, I gained some interesting knowledge. Some people there were like me, doing this sort of thing every once and awhile for a bit of cash, the learning experience, and the networking possibilities. But there are a lot of people around who do this all the time, and not only that, but they seem think it makes them small time film and TV stars. Seriously, this one guy was talking about Will Smith like he knew him, just because of some background work on Men in Black III (yes, they are making that right now). And I don't know how many of you have experienced the coy actor trait of pretending to be ashamed or bashful when they brag so that you will think they don't want to tell you every credit they have, yet somehow all of a sudden you know everything they have done in NY, as well as all of their elementary school leads. To be fair, the majority of the people I met were not like this, but that type of person tends to stand out. And while background work is fun, it really is a lot of sitting around...I probably sat around for six hours and worked for two. It was a similar situation with the last project. Pantomiming and pretending to eat sushi, or pantomiming and watching the fake 2012 New Years ball drop in mid-town, all very exciting. But it's not acting. Well, it is, I guess. But I would not want to spend my days doing it. Yet sometimes I feel like...I don't know what I feel like. Success means different things to different people. I guess I'm not sure what my definition of success is right now.

Ann Brashares wrote a fifth "Sisterhood" book called Sisterhood Everlasting, and the four girls are now 29. I read it the other day, in one day, because I couldn't stop, and to be honest, I cried throughout the entire book. It's beautiful, and like I told my mom, there will be a point when the reader might want to stop reading the book, to put it down altogether and shield themselves from the difficulties. But if you do read it...keep going. Finish it. That woman knows how to write...she breaks your heart and feeds your soul.

I'm going to close with a quote from Siri Hustvedt's The Summer Without Men.

Time confounds us, doesn’t it? The physicists know how to play with it, but the rest of us must make due with a speeding present that becomes an uncertain past and, however jumbled the past may be in our heads, we are always moving inexorably toward an end. In our minds, however, while we are still alive and our brains can still make connections, we may leap from childhood to middle age and back again and loot from any time we choose, a savory tidbit here and a sour one there. It can never return as it was, only as a later incarnation. What once was the future is now the past, but the past comes back as a present memory, is here and now in the time of writing. Again, I am writing myself elsewhere. Nothing prevents that from happening, does it? (pp. 177-178)

I feel like other people can form words and thoughts for me better than I can these days.

[amanda]

[title quote: Bob Dylan]