Some journal

I am a journal writing maniac. Maybe its my Mormon upbringing, reminding me to write in my journal to teach future generations. Maybe its that my mother is a columist and because I grew up reading what was essentially her journal in the newspaper every week, I was instilled with the understanding that writing is a good way to express yourself. Or maybe its just that my biggest fear in the universe is forgetting and so this is the way that I try to keep things remembered.

So there they are on a shelf in my bedroom, all these little pieces of me. Every year I tell myself that I'm going to read them all once a year, just to peruse my life. And every year they collect more dust, completely unread. I think I'm scared to read them. I'm worried that it will be like looking through your Junior High School year book. You want to look back and laugh at all the awkward things, like your hair and the clubs you were in. But then you crack the binding only to find that your hair looked awful, you were far more awkward than you remembered and you were on the Chess team. (Don't make fun.)

Plus, I'm completely and discusting honest in my journals. I won't let my closest friends read them. At some point I'm bound to have been angry at them or have done something that would have made them angry, and there's a good chance they'd find it in my journal. I'm not saying that I use my journal stricting for confessions. Heaven knows how tedious and long winded that would be.

When it comes to blogging, sometimes I have trouble knowing when to draw the line. I want it to be interesting, but I don't even read my own journals! How can I expect someone to want to read my blog? And it isn't the type of blog with cute little photos showing what an amazing amateur photographer I am, its not wraught with spicy anonymous confessions, and so far has not included a single amazing recipes that I just have to shout to the world. But maybe thats not what its for.

So anyway, I wanted to include some sections from my journal the past few weeks as a blog entry.

1/30/08
I got a call back on Friday and by Monday they wanted me to have learned the three songs they were emailing me. I got sick the next day. So I pretty much lost Saturday and Sunday to a drug induced Dayquil stupor. I did, however, get mostly over my cold and sore throat in two days which never happens to me. I'm usually tanked with illness for a week. So I didn't spend as much time as I could have learning the songs. Plus I'm always nervous with new material. I've been listeneing to the recordings of the songs they sent me non-stop since Sunday night. So basically I spent three and a half days entirely devoted to this callback. I walked into the room and was already pretty freaked out. After the first two songs, where I could hardly remember the words, I was done. 3.5 days for 6 minutes. The problem was that I really wanted this job. I wanted it far too much. I knew that I had a lot of work to do, but I focused on it so much that in my mind it was built up way too high. I prayed a ton about this audition. That I would be able to do my best and that if it were right, then I would get it. Do I think what happened was what was supposed to happen? I'm not quite sure. The rejection isn't what bothers me, its how much I hate it when I don't do my best.

2/1/08
We went to dinner with Nathan and Luke at this Peruvian restaurant in our neighborhood tonight. They have lived in Sunnyside for over two years, but have failed to ever come to this place because it looks like the kind of place where we might be racially profiled. And I'm pretty sure we were. I've narrowed it down to two possibilities: they either thought we were health inspectors or writing a travel book. I think every single waitress in the place asked us how we enjoyed our meal at least twice. Then the chef and owner came out.

2/2/08
Well, I finally got a good spot in the audition line. That involved being at the Equity building at 7:10 am before they opened the building. I took yesterday off to get over my discouragement. Its all ups and downs with me. With acting in general. You can only take it every day for so long and then you have to step back to get some perspective. Not unlike a prostitute I assume.

We went to the Chinese New Year's Spectacular at Radio City. It was like a three hour dance recital for a Chinese dance school. But as I was watching the chorus of dancers, I realized how much I love performing! I would love to be the fifth guy in the back carrying that spear. I keep getting called back for leads that I'm just not quite right for. Too young, too old, too tall, not enough of a tenor...so I must be right for an ensemble somewhere, right? I have three more callbacks this week, so I guess we'll see.

2/5/08
Tonight I'm going with my friend Seth, who was on foreign exchange in France at the same time I was, to some fashion week events. I think I need to go home and cut my hair so I look a little more cleaned up and put together. But then I get worried that I'll end up like that girl who cuts her hair the day of prom and then has photos of her terrifying, unfixable hair for the rest of her life.