gotham_bound, posts by tag: life hack - LiveJournal

I don't know where to start. And it's not helped by not knowing where I want to go.

It makes me restless. Hating on most of my life, but the hatred is largely intellectual. Emotionally...blank. Or just comfortable with a twinge every so often...a little internal grumble that could definitely be worse. I don't want it to get worse. When life isn't where I want it and I'm not where I want to be the last thing I need is depressive turn.

It's just hard to focus. Because it's hard to stop being distracted by the things that are too easy. Cartoons and the internet and hanging out and eating or drinking and sunshine and water ...practically anything I want, within arm's reach.

just not... not the me that I want. The life that isn't all flab and ease and tolerating family, but challenge and travel and bringing something new and different wherever I go.

It's not like it's hard to figure out. Go to the gym, practice voice work, audition, review my Japanese and get a pen pal. Really very easy to do. Really. None of them say I should expect a return; none of them are really a gamble when done for their own sake. But inevitably, *something* will come back. Maybe not paying work, maybe not a svelte body and sexy adventures. But *something* will be different inside me, and that's all I've ever cared about anyway.

But I can't decide where I want to start every morning. In fact I can't even push myself into having mornings - at least not the sort that come after waking up instead of before.

I know I need a schedule, but that's what I don't know how to start. I don't know how to make one with any faith that I'll keep it. And trying to sort out why is spurring some more intense restlessness. It's sort of easier when the schedule comes at me, a job or school. But it's still not optimal because those catch me off guard, somehow, always. They suck up more energy than they should...I think? Without another source of instruction for my time I have to find myself all over again as soon as I'm home from class or work.

I just go slower than everyone else. It's frustrating to realize I have to speed up. I have to make my decisions faster and I have to commit fully when I do. I don't get to rock back on my heels as a default. The idea makes me queasy.

It makes me think of pitching myself continuously forward, into every moment, every scenario, every day of my life. Go for my goals, my objectives, my MO, all, all me.

It's exhausting and unsettling just to think it.

Even clearing my head takes effort. How annoying.

I know I've written about taking "nobody" as a nom de plume long ago, about Octavio Paz's use of the word "nadianismo" in "Máscaras Mexicanas" and quoted Gloria Anzaldua's Borderlands extensively, though my favorite line remains "A veces no soy nada ni nadie. Pero hasta cuando no lo soy, lo soy."

Not-being is an idea I've looked at all over for decades now and it didn't seem odd that when everyone was inventing alternate personas for online interaction, I invoked this nobody whenever I could. From IRC, forward, whenever I could this was my nickname. Occasionally I took alternatives like "nadie" when someone else jumped on it, but usually I didn't like variations. It was when I couldn't get these nicknames that I borrowed or invented other names like razrangel or fallen_woman. For years I still liked to go back when I could. But somewhere in that time, especially over the past five-odd years I forgot to look for opportunities to be nobody again.

In fact with this journal and with a certain cross-country move I intentionally tried to push myself into owning my displacement. The space I took up and the noise I made wasn't an accident of my existence but the very evidence of it. Three years ago my goal was to believe I had a right to be where I was and who was and do what I was doing.

And now I'm not even hiding online. I've put up my new blog under my name. I'm looking at producers for a demo for my voice. On making the demo everything gets kicked into overdrive as I will go through the paces every actor does to get gigs and representation - pestering everyone I encounter for attention. ("Baby, remember my name!" does anyone else remember Irene Cara?)

Thoughts on not-being, on nobody-ation, the act of communicating people online while deliberately avoiding giving details about myself as a person... has all been formative. If nothing else, it made me work for a point of view that wasn't common or convenient. It was a mode of thinking I could turn to that helped to clear my head and calmed me when I was trying to figure out what was expected of me versus what I owed myself.

It's more growing up I guess, learning my identity is a little different but still essentially the same. I don't need to call myself "nadie" anymore and I don't wish to try to see everything as "nobody" would. It's in me like the reactions to people shouting or the shape of my handwriting, long honed and to be accessed regularly as my life continues, but not really a thing that has to be isolated. Not something by which I should define myself exclusively.

Nobody no longer, indeed

So much to say. For myself, on the world, for, to, in, of, about, through, within, without, due to, at, by, post-, pre-, and completely unrelated. It's getting so just being, just breathing is a little tough. Trying to determine what my emotions, what my reactions are to things as they happen is nigh impossible. Does this happen to anyone else?

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I've been moving fast and ragged, as evidenced by this being only the third entry this month, and there's only six days left. But I've had down time here and there. I've just chosen to spend that time watching cartoons or staring off into space. (I start to count reading but remember this month I've pretty much been reading either VoiceOver Voice Actor or reading aloud A Wrinkle in Time or various articles or bits of ad copy.) so yeah, fast and ragged. Nothing you don't already know if you've been paying any attention - Wallowa swallowed my life right on the heels of Forced Vacation. Squeezed Japanese into whatever moments I could find when my brain was working (lots of staring off into space once tech week was over, brain was just too fried to practice a new language). And of course working on the voice at every opportunity.

All of these together, I guess, mean I actually can justifiably call myself busy. Possibly motherfuckin busy. Which I hope gets me off the hook when I get mad at my mom for making my weekends sound like loads of fun. Gah! No! That's solid work!

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And again vote for my submission on the American Gods audiobook contest!

And also, if you're in the LA-area, come and see Wallowa at Son of Semele Ensemble, tomorrow the 25th and next week the 2nd we're doing special Monday evening performances. And of course we have Friday and Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon shows. LAist called us fast-paced, coy and absorbing.

Thanks!

I've been losing things lately. Little things, but it's annoying all the same. I had made a katakana deck out of index cards and kept it in a grey box made specifically for filing index cards with another 200 blank cards. The box is gone. I made another deck but damn that box was handy for keeping things tidy.

I think I lost a small notebook I kept for everyday jottings like phone numbers, directions, to-do lists and, most importantly, passwords. The p-words are always partial, never more than 4 characters so I'm not too worried someone could use them. But dammit, now I can't remember how to log in to a couple of sites.

And now I can't figure out where my sunglasses went. Feh.
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"I ask good questions" Maybe I could invent a tagline for resumes and put this on it. Though that would probably ensure I never got a second glance. I've thought about putting this on business cards, or perhaps on my tombstone. God knows if it's a good thing or not, but I do frequently find myself being told "hey, that's a good question" or "you ask hard questions" or some variation.

It's just a question, I wasn't meaning anything beyond soliciting information. I've learned just to brush it off and keep gunning for an answer to my question. Not that people typically mean to avoid giving it, it's jst that for whatever reason my questions won't be satisfied by a simple answer, readily at hand. But still the comments can be a little off-putting, like I should have been asking easier questions. But I can find the answers to easy questions myself. Also, as in the last time I was told this (JAP101 class), everyone else seems to be satisfied to wallow in not-knowing. Or maybe they don't know that they don't know? Still, it's weird when I ask everyone around me and they shrug and say they don't know so I ask the teacher who looks surprised and says no one had ever asked her that before. Uh. Ok. So the answer is...?

I can't remember the first time I got that response, but it's turned up at work in a variety of situations and typically from bosses. It's turned up when interviewing professionals about their gigs - whether in the wine industry or voice recording or academics.

Eh. It's probably nothing. The grown-up version of what I used to hear on the school yard all the time. "You're weeeeeird."
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There's a much, much longer entry, and probably there already are libraries on the subject...but just a note for now: been contemplating the two poles of reality on the construct of narrative vs unfathomable truth. You could also call it being and not-being or subjective vs objective. I've kind of, sort of come to the conclusion that rational explanations are just another narrative. Any explanation will be. A cause only has an effect by virtue of a narrative construct. Luckily (in my view), rational effects are consistent in the presence of their causes.

Usually when this comes up I recall my Theory of Knowledge teacher, Mr Kopacki holding up a piece of chalk and pointing to the word "chalk" written on the board and insisting the two were not the same thing. The contemplation is prompted by a variety of stories where characters are driven to know the truth and finding out horrible things along the way. When it comes to non-fiction searches for truth it seems like the hunt goes on until a narrative that is acceptible to the searcher is/has been created/established. Ultimately, there are always more questions if one really wants to ask them. But ultimately, there maybe absolutely no point in doing so. Or as Mr Kopacki used to say, "Knowing is the ultimate boobie prize."
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I didn't realize how much this was my habit until I went to college, the habit of walking behind a group so I could keep tabs on everyone. I forgot about it for a while until recently a long Internet-silence from a friend prompted me to email them, even though I hadn't much to say. I guess it's best to say it's my big sister thing. I was in charge of keeping my younger siblings safe all the time, making sure they ate when mom & dad weren't home.

In a way, it became magical thinking. If I could keep a person in mind, they stayed ok. It was when I wasn't thinking about them that they got into trouble. I wasn't thinking about him, but when I saw the crowd in the middle of the street I just knew it was my oldest brother. I forgot to think about my dad while he was sick because I went to a concert when I got home there was a notice that mom had taken him to the hospital. I can know perfectly well that thinking about someone doesn't do much in the way of materially affecting them, for good or ill. But... but... well perhaps tied to the above, in a tangential way, not all of the narrative that I accept is rational. There are things in this world, Horatio, that are just damned irrational.

If I could just hold on to everyone. If i could just know you're ok all of the time, then you'll always be ok. Stuff and nonsense. But little fills me with more dread than losing sight of someone.
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Over at Whitechapel I started a thread: Lifehack, Small but Definite Changes A few people have posted on it. I'm not totally sure what I'm after. Tips, maybe. Encouragement. A well-trod path. For now, while I usually get a good 8 hours of sleep, I'd like it if I got some morning included in my waking hours. I can't do away with sleep so I'd like to use it more wisely. Hard when I find it ridiculously easy to stay up until just before dawn (sometimes until then). I'm focused on little changes because otherwise I'll demand everything all at once from myself and then I'll fail and be both angry and probably in even worse shape. I want to lose weight, to drink more water, to eat more vegetables, to put some concrete steps toward a career, toward travel, toward writing. I want it all and I want it all right now. But little changes first. somehow.
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Nihongo update: arimasu & desu vs ser & estar

Did ok on the last test but I'm feeling my patience tested by Gance-sensei and several people in the class. At best she's flighty so it can be hard to follow what she's trying to explain. But no one else seems to ask questions that will get solid explanations (see above).

Japanese uses particles, tiny words that mean nothing by themselves but bring sense to a collection of nouns and verbs and make them be a sentence. sorting them out can be a bitch though. There's more than a dozen of them and their specific uses remains murky to me. That tripped me a little bit on the test. Nailed everything else. Kind of nailed everything else despite sensei since the test situation was nutty, with people moving and muttering and review work that carried on after she passed out the tests. and finally she invited people to ask her and she would give hints - which were utterly unhelpful to the people asking and hugely aggravating to me. So... last week I discovered not only can I NOT take a test in a noisy environment, I rapidly become furious with the orgin of the noise.

As for arimasu and desu they are very, VERY different verbs. Yet they function very similarly as ser and estar in Spanish. But that's the boobie prize. I can only use ser and estar accurately when I don't think about it. Like ser, desu seems to be a reflexive state of being. You use it when introducing yourself, for example. It's for non-conditional existence as well like "this is my house." But for a conditional or relational existence, like "the TV is in the living room" I would use estar and arimasu. The trouble is, I keep encountering examples where I'm not totally sure and it's fucking baffling to try to think it through. And, naturally, when I try to ask Gance-sensei she doesn't even get why I'm so confused between arimasu and desu. She feels it would be more natural to be confusesd between arimasu and imasu which seem to me to be semi-descriptive state of being nouns. However, once she explained that imasu is for living things there was no longer any confusion on that count. So. I may ask hard questions. But there's just as much chance that I'm asking them all wrong.

How are you today?

I dyed my hair blue today. I still want to file my nails and paint them black. I had much more I wanted to do including exercise and eat something healthy but pissed away most of the day in a haze because I didn't really sleep last night as I didn't get very tired until it was time to go take care of my niece. I wanted to write an article on a wine bar but realized that, since when I went I foolishly didn't take any notes, I had no idea what to say about the place any more. I briefly contemplated driving back up tonight but I just can't justify it with how tight money is. I still would like to do it but I'm stymied which in a way makes me feel frustrated to the point where I want to say fuck it and go anyway. (Other stuff has come up making the trip even more impossible right now.)

When I don't have something in front of me to do, a specific task, a material goal I feel very restless and it's hard to focus. I want to do everything, I want to do it all perfectly and I want success *now*. Makes it crazy to even figure out where to start. And in not starting I begin to feel slowed, stuck, anchored. I feel like emotionally and mentally I'm lying down with a terribly heavy blanket covering me. The trouble with starting and the sense that I can't move forward play off each other and I spiral downward.

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I can't make a living doing theatre. Not with what's in front of me. I need something different. Maybe an Equity membership. Maybe an MFA. I can't love my life if the overwhelming portion of my productive time is spent in an office, talking with salespeople. It's a deadly life.

For a variety of reasons and none I've been thinking about the kind of person - woman - I am, how I present how I wish I presented, or who I wish I was. If I could design and intentionally be me how would I describe myself? That's what I do at games or when I act (which at admittedly has been a while). What is my intentional life like and who am I?

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Occasionally I wish I could be one of those people with no sense of context or time. Seemingly always pleasant but nearly lost without someone around to remind them what day it is and where they are supposed to be. I can never forget. I hold on to old crap that hasn't meant a damn thing for decades. Embarrassing scenes, phone numbers that don't call anyone I know, birthdays of high school crushes (the particular datum that brought on this musing, I still remember B very well) and so on. I hate holding onto the pointless stuff and I wish I could get lost in the moment like some people seem to without keeping one eye on the clock for the next scheduled event. By and by, I'll own this too.


Tomorrow I have to pack my shit and leave the place shipshape for A&K who are due back. Cute bastarding cat is a cute little bastard. In the evening we get into the shit with our first rehearsal for Slaughter City. Lots to do. G'night.

It's past midnight and it's my mid afternoon. In many ways I'm just getting going. Solidly nocturnal right now and it would make life perfect if I didn't have to head back to the family in a couple of days. But all good things must end and this retreat/vacation can't last forever, not for me or for the people who actually pay the rent here.

If I could carry on being nocturnal at home that would be excellent. In the middle of the night the only person coming and going is me, no listening to crap music played at a great volume, no feeling that I might be imposing with the things I'm doing (or getting cranky when I have to accommodate others), etc. Also, being on my own has meant buying my own food and preparing it in a well-stocked kitchen. This has made me stupidly happy as I can eat things we don't have at home because others can't abide it, e.g. pork or mushrooms. I really like living alone. I suppose I need to make a greater effort at getting along with others because being solitary is really a luxury when it comes to city living. But still, this has been just great.

Well...the cat is a psychotic little beast, but so damn adorable....

As I noted a little while ago, I haven't been too sad. And to me that's weird after basically feeling used to continually feeling at least partially submerged. It's really, really weird. My instincts, as I said, are to distrust it. I've been faked out before. The instinct would have me refuse to enjoy the peace and relief, narrowing my eyes at the good mood until it goes away. But part of my life hack is to enjoy things that are good. Or rather, enjoy the things I'm capable of enjoying. Which isn't every good thing, unfortunately. For once, even though I'm really fucking far from having things the way I want them, what I do have is not only satisfactory, it's pleasant. I don't think this is a numbness. Could be happiness, the real article. And even if it goes away in the next five minutes or tomorrow or when I pack up and leave on Tuesday, I get to know I've had it. For no good reason at all.

Going forward, I've figured out, I want to own my own shit. It's really a ridiculously obvious thing. But it's so easy to fall into thinking that I can't have the things I want and therefore the things I have are an accident and I am their victim. Stuff can happen that's not particularly planned, but if it happens in my life then it's mine to own. I don't mean turn the accidental into the intentional. But recognize that I have power within my displacement, even if it's just over my point of view. A drunk guy totalling my car obviously wasn't my fault or responsibility but I'm not at the mercy of the situation. It's a difficult job market and the job hunt has left a lot of my self-esteem crushed (as if I had much to start with) but, dammit, I have worth and people have been willing to pay me to help them out. I'm going to take that fact in hand along with all the reasons why I might be a bad candidate and work out where that puts me. I'm at a disadvantage, but I'm not dead or blind yet and therefore my prospects aren't zero.

I am not going to be afraid of my own shadow AND (and this is harder) I'm not going to be afraid of my own mass. I won't be pulling that off any time soon, I think. I know I'll slip or hide right at the moment of truth, just like I know sadness will come again. But it's not a zero sum game. As long as I have a ways to go I have work to get done before shuffling off....