Change of a Dress

I guess this is it. Real life seems to be happening and I have a choice to jump on board or stay right here.

You can still find me at the Violonjello blog – http://violonjello.typepad.com

Come by and buy something someday at the shop.. things should be listed by the end of the week.

Love, cupcakes, best wishes and a million hugs for everybody who has listened to all my self-indulgent whining!

xoxox

Irrational Exuberance

Schedule for tomorrow:

  • Wake up at a ridiculous hour and have a shower while still half-zombified.
  • Attend a superfluous appointment with a government office simply so that they can claim money for having ‘referred’ me to something, despite the fact that I found the program all by myself.
  • Catch a bus into town and eat an apricot danish. Restrain self from getting another one.
  • Wander on down to Cavalier and get business plan and financial summary printed in all their silky, colourful glory.
  • Grab some 25mm white bias binding for Sebastian’s Mum.
  • Pick up black and white coat from dry-cleaners (dirty after unfortunate recent drunken disgustingness).
  • Saunter into a small room with calming music and overbearing scents, to have hair ripped out of delicate places by a girl who hopefully won’t look like a porn star.
  • Limp down the street and possibly need another apricot danish.
  • Present my super-duper business plan for a woman called Monica, complete with dubious financial information.
  • Sign a contract. Scary.
  • Go home, with a full-time job doing something that I love.

Why is this so terrifying?

Just Fabulous

I saw Sex and the City last night.. very happy.  I practically waltzed out of the cinema, speaking in that terribly lofty, self-enchanted way that Carrie does. It was fabulous.

I loved the way that the characters aren’t so Austenesque anymore – they’re not looking for love at any cost, they’ve found it, and love isn’t the absolute everything that they expected it to be. It can break, it can hurt, it can be everything you thought you always wanted but not be what you actually want. Oh, there were so many things I loved about the film.. obviously, it had problems (Charlotte and Samantha lost out in terms of storyline) but I can look past them for how fabulous it was.

Apart from that, I am a busy little girl – the list of things to do today and tomorrow includes painting and collaging a matryoshka doll set, cutting and stitching together felt flowers, varnishing a whole bunch of chiyogami slide tins, making at least one paper sculpture, getting some prints made and doing some watercolour/ink drawings. My business plan is coming along nicely, but I’m suddenly acutely aware of the fact that it needs lots of colour and lots of photos. A black and white size 12 Arial plan could suit a black and white size 12 Arial sort of business; mine is more like some whimsical font you’ve never heard of, in all kinds of sizes, using every colour you can imagine too.

I am busy, and I am happy, but it’s strange.. I suppose it’s what Charlotte felt in the film last night. Everything is going so well and there is so much promise for the future; everything is coming together. But I am petrified that it will all fall away and I’ll be back where I started. I keep having bad dreams; so bad that they sew seeds of doubt in my mind that linger and fester and can ruin the mood of an entire day. Last night’s dream was particularly bad, because it seemed so real. In the dream, I walked along the track that I always do, and the wind was just as rough as it is today; I walked under the bridges I always do, and over one, and I noticed a car parked near where my bus stop is. Inside.. something not very nice was happening. There was confrontation, nastiness, and it ended with me running back to Sebastian’s house and then feeling like, “What am I doing here? This isn’t my home.. I have no where to go..” et cetera. The dream was full of this feeling; where you feel like your world has been pulled out from under you, and the things you have hesitantly let yourself become vulnerable to turn around and stab you in the heart.

So, triangle thing! That’s the only thing I can think about to stop it from getting bigger. Eating a mandarin helps too – there is something so calm and contemplative about peeling it and eating each segment individually.

Enough. This has been so unproductive.

Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend

Auditioned today.. how nervewracking. I sang Feed the Birds to audition for the October production of Oliver; I had the dance audition last week and felt I went quite well. I suppose I went well today too, because I have to come back to sing for the parts of Bet and Nancy on Thursday.

I really, really don’t know if I’m capable of Nancy though. She is supposed to be able to go down to a low F, and I can only really make the A or the G above it. I can go as high as you want, but getting these lower notes was so hard for me today.

Other successes: Sebastian got a callback for Bill Sykes, so did his younger brother, Beau. His brother’s girlfriend Alicia who just played Ulla in The Producers also got a callback for Nancy, so everybody is very, very careful with what they say to each other. It’s so odd being pitted against each other like this, but there are odd dynamics in play anyway.

Alicia and Beau are going to be engaged; apparently this is inevitable now. The whole situation is making me feel incredibly strange. The other morning I woke up to a conversation in the next room between the couple and Sebastian’s parents, talking about an engagement party, children, houses.. all manner of grown-up things. Looking at the two of them, you can see that they will end up together, but he is 20 and she is 21. Can somebody really foretell how they will feel for the entire rest of their life when they have lived less than a quarter of it (fate willing)? Sebastian’s Mum makes all kind of comments like, “Well, I hope that I have my boys to myself for a good few years yet!”, but everybody just seems to be going along with everything so… I guess, excitedly.

I feel odd about it. Sebastian’s grandmother came up behind Alicia yesterday morning and gave her a huge hug – very uncharacteristic. Alicia expressed surprise, and Pauline explained: “You’re going to be my granddaughter soon!”.

It is not pressure – there is no pressure on me, especially not from Sebastian. I suppose it is expectation. The imminent engagement is a topic that is thrown around willy-nilly; disected, discussed, analysed, speculated upon endlessly. They are not even engaged yet, and they are planning a party. Sebastian’s mother and I were shopping the other day, looking at a million and one engagement rings to suggest to Beau – she was asking if it was “Alicia-ish enough”, comparing prices, diamond weights, et cetera. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather not know if I was about to be proposed to. What is the point in asking a question you already know the answer to? I think it is a lot more gallant and it shows a lot more courage and strength of feeling to ask “Will you marry me?” if there is no foregone conclusion of success.

I guess I’m worried that if they get engaged, the focus will switch – suddenly there will be pressure where there wasn’t before. It’s traditionally an embarrassment to have your younger siblings get married before you – one of Sebastian’s friends is married, with twins, and I find comparisons or “Why can’t you be like Scott?” sentiments are thrown around a bit.

Ok, in conclusion – I am worried that once they get engaged, my relationship will be under the same kind of scrutiny, subject to the same kind of speculation and imbued with the same outside expectations.

Bleh..

Fire Starter

It’s all happening. I got together my preliminary application form and marched into the Business Development offices, slapped it down on the desk.

“You need a job network provider (or something).” The receptionist was not particularly helpful, and gave me back the application and was about to send me on my way. A man came up behind me and scooped the application out of my hand – I didn’t even notice as I was (politely) arguing with her.

“Hey, this is actually pretty good. Amy, can you find out that stuff, and can you, my dear, come with me?”

I was whisked into a board room with a man called Clint, had several business cards thrust into my hand, and sat talking for about an hour.

“How much money would you like to be making annually from Violonjello in three years?”

The question had not even occurred to me; I was too overwhelmed by the fact that I could make ANY money at all from doing something I loved that I hadn’t considered the figures.

The figures we ended up discussing are scaring the bejeesus out of me.. I feel so totally unprepared to be this grown up. I have to be smart though. I have to do all those things that adults do, like planning for the future, having a million and one back-up options, opening up multiple bank accounts, et cetera.

I am scared, but so excited. I have deadlines now. I guess I just got myself a new full-time job.

Frustration

I feel bona fide. Today my first wooden matryoshka arrived; a sample. I am going to paint and collage it, take photos of it to include on my application. I’m just not sure what type of theme I should go for, or whether I should get a couple and do contrasting designs… yes, I shall!
(I refer to the application as “the application for awesomeness”, because it’s much more fun that way.)

Seems plans to take the world (or at least GMCC) by storm are failed – how ridiculous. It seems that the meeting was a waste of time, because ultimately nothing was taken into consideration. I am too disillusioned to think about it right now, and seriously reconsidering – why should I put lots of effort and hard work into something that will be rejected without consideration? Grrrrr…
The whole thing makes me angry. This is a theatre company that does not even have a website. I said at the meeting that I would make a website, design a logo and some sort of brand identity for the company… and was rejected. “People in the past have said they’d do that, and we’re still waiting,” said one stalwart member. It must be so much fun dwelling on the past, as she seems to do it a lot, but in the meantime, does the company have a logo or a website or a mailing list or ANYTHING? No, and here I am offering to do it, for free too. I’m not sure if it’s worth trying to help anymore if our suggestions are not going to be listened to, and our efforts to volunteer our talents are going to be thrown back in our faces.

Rant, over.

Other than all that junk, it is amazing how things can just ‘work out’ sometimes. This concept is quite foreign to me, so it’s amazingly exciting now… very novel. Sebastian’s parents have a friend who is renovating a house, so they have accepted a whole bunch of stuff that would otherwise be thrown away. An entire kitchen, a desk, and… a bed. I don’t have a bed for when I find somewhere to live, and they have no real need for it – voila! Things can work out.

Cha-ching!

Work is fabulous.. it makes me so happy being there. I want to buy everything in the whole store, so ultimately it may not be terribly profitable! Even though I am required to wear a full face of their make-up (not a fan of having “stuff on my face”), I am also ‘encouraged’ to wear their scents and try their products throughout the day.. I end up waltzing out of there smelling like Neroli Jasmine, Monoi Butter, Fuzzy Peach, Pink Grapefruit and Aqua Lilly all at the same time. Also, the fact that I don’t have to do it all day, every day is something nice – I have time to regroup and get excited about it before I go again. At this point, the fact that I get paid to go there is a bonus.

After working all day (!), Sebastian and I attended a ’special’ meeting about the future of one of our local theatre companies. I imagined that we would all get together and come up with a plan for future greatness and be able to move forward, but it seems some people are just stuck in the past. The strongest sentiments came from two or three people, along the lines of “We can’t do it that way, we have to do it this way because we always have!”. Somebody actually referred to the other theatre companies in the town as “the opposition” – how absolutely archaic, and just when we thought that there was going to be some cooperation between companies! Things are not working at GMCC, change is in order; I understand that it is hard to acknowledge the faults in something you have worked on for such a long time, but honestly – our town is different, the venue is different, the people who want to be involved are different, and the people who are willing to buy tickets are a different breed to those of forty years ago. Change is simply necessary.

And it’s off my chest – I was practically yelling at Sebastian all the way home about it. It’s frustrating when you have a lot of opinions but cannot bring yourself to be forceful in expressing them, even when everybody else has no problem with it.

So I ate a McChicken. In the car. Everything felt a bit better after that.

Oh, I found something that is quite a laugh. Bradford was in the car with me when he told me about a rogue review of Mikado that managed to escape my attention for more than six months! My visitor stats tell me that almost everybody googles themselves; I had forgotten to do it myself. So I did. And this is what I found:

The only letdown was Rose Campbell who played Yum Yum. It pains me to say that as some elements of her performance were great. She tried to sing opera and just failed, bringing down the overall tone.

Name changed, of course, to prevent retaliatory google sleuthing! I didn’t include the whole review, but what a laugh; especially with how gushingly she praised everybody else. I did a little fieldwork and found a review that she had written for Romeo and Juliet, which followed a similar formula – she loved everybody except Juliet, who she had intense scorn for. Question though: how exactly does one sing “opera” when one is performing in a musical? If I were to sing opera, I would be singing a specific opera, would I not? I imagine she means “tried to sing operatically”. It’s actually quite funny, because I asked the musical director during production whether I should operatically, and he said no, that I should just sing it as I had in the audition – I sang in my normal voice, with good annunciation, opening up on the higher notes so that they didn’t come out of my nose. I wonder if Jade would have preferred me screeching out a pop belt?

Ah well, at least it is a source of amusement. I’ll have to stay tuned for her review of The Producers…
apparently she’s a veritable ‘brand’ and aspiring professional blogger. Maybe I’ll have to pay subscription to read her reviews? Ha.

Speaking of reviews, I guess I should say my little piece on The Wedding Singer. I saw Sebastian’s show on Saturday – I told him I was going to The Producers instead and snuck down to Williamstown by myself, via public transport. Scary! Especially on a football night.

Anyway, walking into the theatre, I was a little disappointed before it had even begun. It was a drab hall. There were some very pretty chandeliers, but I was actually a bit scared to stand under one of them (there were so many cracks running through the ceiling). The venue seemed to be a letdown, but now I’m realizing how much I have been spoiled by using professional theatres. I was quite harsh on the show as I was watching it, but eventually, it grabbed me and pulled me in. Without a huge fussy set or over-the-top lighting, the focus was on the performers and the band, which was great – especially after seeing blockbuster musical after blockbuster musical, where individual performances end up getting lost in the razzle-dazzle of it all. Alexandra Clover and Turanga Merito were fabulous as Julia and Robbie; both of them have amazing voices and were a pleasure to watch. Sebastian played the sleazy, lovable Sammy – I want to apologize in advance for anybody who has to witness his mullet, gold medallion glinting in his chest hair, adidas tracksuit and ‘beautiful’ dancing! Mark Spencer and Bianca Giorgetti are hysterical as George and Linda; but be warned, do not sit in the front row. Linda has an very raunchy extended dance; her gyrating fishnet and panty-clad behind was probably a metre from my face. A definite case of “where do you look?”, however I do want to borrow her wedding dress, and boots. Generally, it looked like a really fun show to be a part of; the ensemble, in particular Ezra Tepania, Lisa Pilkington, Narelle Bonnici and Samantha Symons – these guys really shone. I can’t be bothered writing a full, proper review, so just trust me and go see it! – there are good bits, there are bad bits, but it’s a lot of fun – book tickets online, and hurry because only 10% are left.

Must dash – no time to write when there are mermaids, matryoshkas and birds with fantastical plumage to be drawn.

Coin Operated Girl

Ha, what an absolute riot. After my last post of proclaiming how independent I feel, I am finding myself pining. Badly. After he hasn’t been very nice to me, which makes me even more pathetic. So in summary, I am pining from a distance; scared to make myself emotionally vulnerable to more ridiculousness, but at the same time really, really missing him (he only spends about 7 hours a day at home, solely for sleeping), which is making me do ridiculous things, like spending 7 hours making him a paper sculpture, and doing his university assignment, et cetera.

Blah. I hate being so pathetic. But not entirely pathetic; seems I may have managed to score a job. An enjoyable job, selling things I actually like, in a central location, et cetera. At The Body Shop. I’m not completely sure if it is a job they are offering, or just a trial; tomorrow I’ll find out. I am terribly nervous though. Since recent events, I feel so much more shy and apprehensive – before now I just assumed that I was capable of whatever I put my mind to. But I have limits, I am not as strong as I should be, and it will take a long time before I’ll be as capable as I wish I was. But until then, I’m not going to push myself into a hole again.

In other news, I took the plunge. I bought something from Etsy. Two things actually, shh! One is a supply-thing I need for Violonjello, and the other is a belt I have been coveting for a while now – a wide white elastic waist-cinching belt with a little frill and a silver clasp. It is designed by the magical Melbourne couturier Samantha Sultana; I simply need to buy some of her headbands. I’m planning to wear the belt and some sort of awesome dress (I have a white one in mind) to closing night of The Wedding Singer… it’s a pride thing; I wasn’t cast in the show, I have to look so amazingly gorgeous as to make the entire cast feel inferior when I am faced with them again. Oh, how I love spite.

Snuffle-Head + The Producers

I have the sniffly-snuffly-blahs.. in short, a cold. My head is stuffed up, my skin hurts, my nose feels like it is about to rocket off my face – all quite glorious. I feel sorry for Sebastian, having to be in close proximity to someone who can’t sleep without hacking and coughing and sneezing and getting up for tissues and painkillers multiple times a night. It is very strange being so near him.. Maybe it’s the medication, maybe it is this ginormous weight that has been lifted from my shoulders/spirit, but I don’t feel anymore like I need him to be here for me to function. There are still bad days, but I’m not crumbling from lack of him. Having said that, I am still missing him a bit – Wedding Singer is all-consuming and there isn’t a lot of time left over after work, show, university and computer gamess. All in all though, it feels good; I feel like I enjoy being with him so much more now that he is something that I am choosing, rather than something that I simply need to survive.

I made my first attempts at being social in a long time on Thursday and Friday, which was interesting. Thursday at Cafe Go was a little bit of a fizzer – we didn’t know anybody, and the people we did know we didn’t particularly want to talk to. Stood around for a couple of hours drinking the same beer (it was too crowded to go and get another one) talking to a few people who were similarly disillusioned. It was cold, I was wearing a little dress with bare legs (probably the reason I’m sick now) so Sebastian and I went and did something that was actually really fun – went for a midnight hamburger and spicy chicken wings (which he referred to as ‘wingdings’, which I thought was hysterical). I had heard of these legendary, fabled burgers before; gooey, greasy, huge and ridiculously bad for you. I had been told of the perils of leaving the wrapper in your car; it would stink it out for a week. So I tried. It was the highlight of the night!

Friday we went out for lovely Italian food with some equally lovely friends, then saw The Producers. I’m a bit wary of writing exactly what I thought on such a public forum – apparently EVERYBODY in the whole Geelong theatre community read what I had to say about Beauty and the Beast last time. So, I’ll just mention my favourite bits: Sebastian’s brother’s girlfriend Alicia Miller was playing Ulla in the show, and she was so amazing. I still can’t get over how good she was; her voice was incredible, her dancing was fantastic. Sebastian’s Mum commented that “her legs go all the way up to her neck”, and it’s true – I am so jealous! My mentor-of-sorts David Mackay was playing Roger De Bris as well, and he was a scream and a half; I almost cried I was laughing so hard during the Keep It Gay number. He looks fabulous in a dress, even with chest hair. I am also so, so, so glad that they chose Matt Bradford to be the Hitler youth tenor; he really deserves it.

But there were two absolute favourite moments in the show; the whole Springtime for Hitler number was just too funny. It was probably the best thing I have ever seen on stage. And the second thing was the incomparable, indefatiguable, incredibly admirable Elise Dahl – she played the chorus girl wannabe in the I Wanna Be A Producer number as well as Shirley, the lighting designer. Absolutely epic.

It is strange; normally seeing a show would spark all kinds of feelings like, “Damn, wish I had been in it! I simply have to be involved in the next one!”. Like a huge fear of missing out. I am planning to audition for  Oliver, but if I don’t make it, I won’t be too fussed. I suppose my whole self-esteem does not rest on getting into a show or getting a particular part anymore.

I have felt like a new person like that lately; I applied for a couple of jobs at the performing arts centre and did not even get shortlisted for either of them. Previously, I would have been disappointed and despondent for ages, taking the disappointment personally and letting it affect my whole view of myself as a person. Now I feel a little bit more solid. A little more real.

Dilemma and Other Things

I set up a Violonjello blog, roughly – but I don’t like it nearly as much as I like Pajama Empress. I’m thinking there might have to be an amalgamation between the two, or something, because I don’t see myself wanting to update this and the sad second-best Violonjello blog that I feel obliged to do.

Other than that, today I painted on canvas. It is lovely.. it’s a tiny little square painting of a sleeping matroyshka doll under a tree, in red, white, black and violet; acrylic, ink and collage. I would take photos, but my camera is buried in a mountain of boxes in Sebastian’s outside room (full of spiders). I promise I will dig it up at some point. The painting is for Sebastian, just because.

Over the last week or so, I’ve been looking at the blogs of lots of people who I admire. Mostly successful illustrators and designers with minds full of beautiful things, their lovely husbands, gorgeous children, and humble yet heartwarming lifestyles full of simple pleasures and fulfillment. In Keri Smith’s book Living Out Loud , she has a section about ‘determining a destination’. It is an activity where you are encouraged to write about your ideal life as if you are already living it. I like this, muchly – this is going in my sketchbook later. After I’ve made a happy red papercut for Sebastian’s drab white closet.

It’s so calming being here by myself during the daytime, even though I do get quite lonely. I’m looking out the window right now at a lovely pale golden horse happily munching the grass a couple of meters from where I sit, a black and white dog sleeping, sparrows chatting and pecking at the grass, trousers and socks blowing on the clothesline, and long shadows streaked across the amber grass from the almost setting sun. This, compared with where I was a few short weeks ago, seems to be the biggest thing that is making me feel better. A change of setting. It’s like being on holiday in the country. And it is so much easier to deal with things in a nice place than it is when you are surrounded by fear, filth and darkness.

Tasi called me yesterday, out of the blue. We’ve been friends for the longest time, yet we sort of fell out of sync in high school. We were at different stages, we went to schools with completely different cultures. Now it seems like we’ve finally come parallel again. Belinda once told me that now she is in her thirties, she realizes that it is not the teenage years that are full of drama, it’s your twenties – they are one drama after another with nightmares interspersed for those of a creative temperament. Seems this is true; although our teenage years were completely different, Tasi and I seem to be braving the same sorts of nightmares in what we have experienced thus far of the dreaded ‘twenties’.

But nightmares can be cured. With painting, cups of tea, warm socks, hugs and kisses.

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