I have not written a blog
entry in a really long time. I have not written a blog entry about my dating
escapades in an even longer time. So, here it is, 2-in-1; 2 for the price of 1;
killing two birds with one stone. Et cetera, etceteros, and so forth.
I met a man recently whom I
was really into. Like, superly duperly into. I believed that he was superly duperly
into me. Turns out, after about a month, that he was superly duperly NOT into
me. Ah, therein lay a big rub. Being a woman of utmost humility and modesty, I
spent a couple of days trying to come up with a rational answer of HOW this guy
could NOT be into me. I mean, he laid eyes on me, Asian cheekbones and all; he
had been privy to my dazzling intellect and humour during our lengthy
conversations; he even had the pleasure of watching me eat tripe and intestines
in a Vietnamese restaurant, once. So, HOW, after all these exhibitions of my
fabulousness, could he NOT be into me??? Folks, there is no rational answer.
Love and lust are not rational, and the practical side of my brain was left
confused, while the more emotional other side was left (completely)
disappointed.
I sulked for a couple of
days. And when I mean sulk, I mean that I, like a child, behaved as if the
world is an unfair and unjust place, because if a woman such as myself, who is
a great catch, has not been caught and is now THIRTY YEARS OLD…well…OBVIOUSLY
there is just something wrong with the world. How dare it treat me in this
unfair manner. You’ll be rolling your eyes by this point and be relieved to
hear that I then got the fuck over myself.
How exactly does a tiny
Chinese-Jew who is focused on, Mission: Get on Broadway, get the fuck
over herself? She grounds herself back into what is real and who she truly is.
This is what is real: I moved to NYC in 2009 with one goal -- to sing, dance,
and act on the Broadway stage. I am not more myself than when I am alone in my
apartment belting out musical theatre showtunes. I do not feel a more familiar
surrounding than the backstage of a theatre or inside the ballet studio. No
matter how sad, overwhelmed, anxious, or stressed I can be, I walk into a
ballet studio, take my place at the barre, and feel safe and in control. Then I
take ballet class where the feelings of turning out and pointing my feet and
physically responding to the music are as familiar to me as walking and
writing. So, after being rejected and sulking, I worked on some audition
material and went to ballet class and sang and danced my sadness away (almost).
I want to fall in love. I
really, really do. But, I always ask myself the question: if I had to choose
between love and being onstage, what would I choose? I have never been able to
make a choice. I really don’t know how to make that choice. I really don’t want
to. However, it constantly feels as if the Powers That Be are forcing me to
choose. When I’m dating and excited about someone, they pull me back and ask me, “why are you wasting time on this frivolity when you should be
concentrating on your career?” When I AM concentrating on my career, I leave no
place in my soul whatsoever for any man to chisel his way in. Which is a shame,
because I really do feel like I deserve to be in love and be on Broadway AT THE
SAME TIME.
Now, with a closed heart and
no distractions, I plough ever forward, with a couple of major auditions coming
up that I am ready to take by the horns. I cannot control love, or when I will
fall into it. I cannot control outside factors in a casting process that will
either make the job mine or mine for the losing. What I CAN control is who I am
as an artist, and shall continue to do just that. My journeys to Broadway and
True Love are very rarely easy, smooth, or simple, and constantly filled with
rejection. But, boy, I must be crazy, because I am having so much fun!
