New Year, New Goals, New...Hair?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

And of course, by "Happy New Year", I mean "Happy January 28th!" because I'm pretty much a month late in wishing the former.

So where have I been? What shenanigans have I been up to? Clearly, if I've been neglecting this blog, I must have a damn good reason. And I totally do.

I've been really busy fighting crime.

Saving the whales.

Fighting ...whales.

Writing acrostic poems.

Doing lunges.

Doing the robot.

Breathing.

Okay, I don't have a good excuse. Truth be told, I've tried writing this blog entry a few times only to delete what I've written and refuse to publish anything. I think it's because I know my writing has been suffering, and it suffers because I don't write as much as I should. Vicious circle what what! When I do get down to writing, I'm so mortified at the absolute horror I've created, that all I want to do is delete and refuse to publish. I almost wrote "Rufus" there which suddenly reminded me of that awesome movie "Hook" even though his name is "Rufio" and not "Rufus" but I'm still reminded because the movie is wonderful.

Rufus to publish. I smell a new indie rock band!

See what I did there? In an effort to blog more while sucking less, I'm going to try an d edit myself less as I type. Of course, I'll do a spelling and grammar sweep at the end of a post, but from now on no more judging the literary gold I spew. Okay, that was sarcasm. Suck it, sarcastic Marisa.

Still with me?

WHAT I'VE ACCOMPLISHED

40. Dye my hair a crazy colour.

Now, when I originally wrote this number, I think I had a flashback of ye good ol' adolescence, where I tried to Manic Panic my hair pink. The result was not fruitful and vowed that one day, I would make a concerted effort in expressing my kooky self through hair colour.

Then I grew up, got a job, and realized that "crazy" colour didn't necessarily mean looking like I was trying way too hard to relive that sweet sweet 90's raver age. Crazy could certainly mean unconventional, but for me. It could be different, but confident...and sexy. Okay, so confident and sexy aren't things you'd associate with me JUST SHUTTUP GUYS AND LOOK HOW NICE MY HAIR LOOKS NOW

And yeah, that's me totally drinking water on my 25th birthday. Now that I'm old and everything, I have to keep hydrated.

The lovely Peruvian woman who did my hair forgot to remind me that she'd need to strip the colour out first before putting the new colour in. Temporarily, I was blonde. It was a beautiful and horrific ten minutes.

Reactions to the new look range from "Oh, I like it!" to "You look even more confusingly

ethnic now".

48. Treat myself to a day at the spa.

I didn't end up treating myself but rather had my boss do it for me. I am that charming of an employee.

It actually came as an unexpected Christmas gift for myself and my co-worker. I am grateful for

many, many things....and just as grateful for free mani-pedis and massages. So the three of us

took the morning off from work and we were temporarily pampered. Granted, the place smelled

of sewage and I ruined my manicure twice but it was still a great way to spend the work day.

Prior to that day, I can't recall the last time someone made a serious effort to work out the kinks

in my back so it was a very welcome gift.

So was the bottle of Goldschlager I got but that's definitely another story.

WHAT'S IN THE WORKS

13. Learn to skate.

I already have great difficulty walking let alone gliding gracefully on ice so why yes this

challenge is relevant to my interests.

During a daycamp field trip, we headed to a skating rink where I decided to show off my cool

skating moves (re: none) and ended up falling on my ass. While my dignity was more bruised

than my backside, I had fallen and made a shallow slice into my palm. And thus, any potential

dreams of winter Olympic gold were dashed.

This is pretty much the theme with me. I have an interest in something. I maintain my interest

until I injure myself (epiphany: it actually usually involves me falling on my ass). I harbour

resentment towards said interest, forcing it to deprive me of conventional childhood/adult skills

and memories. I've attached a montage for those visual learners out there:

I was going to be real cutesy so I Googled "conquering lands". So many video game screen caps.

With the help of my best friend, I set off to conquer this list item. Before I could face the ice I would need a trusty pair of old skates , so I hit up a Play it Again Sports and got my hands on these beauts:

I know, you're so unimpressed, but owning these babies is half the battle. And they fit so nicely!

Now, as you could've guessed by the section I've put this topic under, the second part...the one involving the actual skating...hasn't been conquered yet. By the time I found a pair of skates that fit, the free skate at the community centre by my house was done. When we headed over to Mississauga City Hall, we learned the outdoor rink was closed for construction. Damnit. Had we been the Square One mallrats we once were in grade 9 we would have known that in advance.

So this number is still in progress and it will be until I have a night off from rehearsal and the regained enthusiasm to...you guessed it...fall on my ass.

#?? SOMETHING SOMETHING A PRIVATE NUMBER SOMETHING SOMETHING

Okay, it's not really private. I've already accomplished the only private item on my list. The goal in question is something I've already publicly mentioned on my list but to talk about it here might actually jinx the success of it. So let's you and me both agree that the one rule about number something something is that we don't talk about number something something. You just got to trust me that I'm working on it and I in turn need to trust the universe that it's being worked on.

Speaking of the universe sending me signs....

57. Take a self-defense course.

And by universe I mean boys named "Al" who invite me towomen's self-defense workshops via Facebook.Perfect! I'm sure in 2 hours I won't have obtained maximum Buffy skills, but it's definitely a start.

41. Take responsibility for my own taxes.

....Why the hell did I even....why...why would I choose this.

Kidding, of course this is something I need to work on. It's not very adult of me to shove all my receipts at my mom and peace out. Although, it is pretty ninja of me.

WHAT'S BEING REVISED

I now carry my list with me in my purse as a constant reminder to waste no time in tackling the goals. The more time I spend with the list, the more I evaluate whether or not the items are to my benefit. The difficulty in achieving them isn't so much a problem as is the question of

whether or not they're relevant anymore.

I had previously changed a couple of performance specific goals and I've decided to continue doing that. I still love performing - part of why I've been MIA as of late is because I'm in rehearsals for a show. But as I've previously mentioned, performing is no longer my main and sole passion. For that reason, I've made the following changes:

83. From "become a stronger singer and be involved in a musical" to "Take a kick boxing class".

84. From "Do a touring theatre show" to "Run a 5k".

Let's face it. I'm an emotionally fragile creature that lacks mental toughness. I'm not athletic, I've very little endurance, and I whine at any ounce of pain.

I started this blog (and frankly, most of my writing) after my diagnosis of endometriosis because I couldn't speak about how outraged I was towards my own body. I had to write it. The blog started out as a sunny way to distract myself from whatever physical turmoil my body was putting me through. Granted, it's now become more frank and a little bit sassy, (the blog, not my body, but some will argue both); however, the gratitude remains. If I truly want to get the most out of this "101 Things to Do in 1001 Days" challenge, I need to be honest about what I need.

These new challenges are tough, but I think they are necessary. In order for me to redevelop physical and mental strength, I would say they're pretty essential.

Oh, and they also scare the crap out of me. Forget internal bleeding, I'm also an asthmatic with bad knees and a hip injury. NERD ALERT.

Which is why I'm going to spice it up changing

94. From "Play Harper in a production of "Angels in America" to "Do a sexy, vintage pinup photoshoot".

Clearly, if I'm going to put myself through agony, there's got to be some sort of superficial payoff. Hiyyoooooo.

Okay kids, thanks for putting up with me. If you got through this blog post, I owe you a milkshake. And I promise, I'll be better.

<3,

m

EDIT THE FIRST: I just realized that because I started this entry last Saturday, it still says it was published last Saturday. Despite it being January 28th now. Great Scott!

EDIT THE SECOND: There seems to a wonky formatting issue. This is what happens when I neglect my blog. It becomes vengeful. I'll win you back, baby. You'll see.

46. Gather enough courage and do karaoke sober.

When I was about 4 or 5, I received a microphone for Christmas. I can't recall if the gift was from a family friend or from "Santa". If it was from the latter, then clearly both my parents were on the Naughty List because I would not shut up.

I sang my little heart out during one particular holiday gathering in an attempt to drown out whatever sort of intelligent conversation was going on around me. My parents would usher their friends into the house where I'd verbally assault them with song. It was pretty typical behaviour for me when I was younger. As an only child, I discovered that an extroverted (re: loud) nature won me friends faster than being bashful. Although, I did pull out the shy and cutesy "Will you be my friend?" approach on a few occassions. Okay, okay, so that's still how I cultivate friendships as an adult...

By the time puberty rolled around, I was smacked upside the head with self-consciousness. Delicious awkward, depressed, self-consciousness. My love of performing wasn't enough to distract me from the terror I started to feel everytime I was in the spotlight. Dance recitals, speech nights, school plays - yuck, yuck, and yuck. And while being a high school drama major taught me how not to corpse on the boards, it couldn't help shake that nauseating fear of public speaking and...well....singing.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a singer. While this does not stop me from indulging in the occasional/habitual shower performance, it definitely makes me self-aware that I shouldn't sing in public. Ever. Now in reading this, you might think this is another fine/poor example of my self-depricating humour, so I'd ask you instead to inquire about my skill to those who have had the privilege of hearing me sing. Oh wait. You can't. Because those people are still BLEEDING FROM THE EARS.

I digress.

My fear of performance surprises a lot of people as I enjoy acting and went to post-secondary for it. I can only offer this rambling explanation: it's much easier for me to be in the spotlight as someone else as opposed to myself, where I know that any public judgement will affect me personally. If anyone's going to ridicule me, it's going to be myself, and by jove, I'm going to the be the first to do it. How dare others get the opportunity to do it before I can!

Because I so clearly hate myself, I decided that a fantastic challenge for my list would be to not just speak in public, but to sing in public. Oh, and not just to sing in public, but to sing in public without a drop of liquid courage. Thus, in something of a last minute number challenge, I decided that I would tackle sober karaoke last Thurs., Dec. 30, 2010 - a day that will forever live in infamy.

Now if you're expecting a miracle and that I'll suddenly sound like an angel in the proceeding video, well.... you are just in for a treat!

The point is, no matter how many cats sounded like they were being strangled, I got up there, opened myself to criticism, and enjoyed the opportunity to look ridiculous and goofy. Most importantly, I discovered the fun in doing something that induces fear, vulnerability, and often, alcoholism.

I, of course, had a great support system of friends.
And a shot right after my performance.

<3,
m

Video courtesy of Kevin Munro, available for all your sound engineering and blackmail documentation needs.