Ottawa/ Homesick

This isn’t a Thing from the list but it’s something about me. And since this blog has been a forum for me to just talk about myself I’m going to do just that. This is a Thing About Me but it’s just so new that it isn’t on the list but it should be.

I’m sitting in a Bridgehouse coffee shop basically being paid to sit around and drink my latte, two hours before my closing show and all I can think is, “I want to be home.”

It’s a little silly. I’m being paid to be in Ottawa, do a show for two hours a day and then have time to do anything I want but all I really want is to be home in a beautiful backyard sipping homemade iced tea with the someone I love.

I never really thought that I was the kind of person to be homesick. I went on tour for two straight months last winter. Nothing.

I went on a month long trip to England, Italy and Barcelona to get away from home. Nothing.

Of course I missed my friends and family but a simple phone call could take care of that. I had been unsatisfied with my routine in Vancouver, but now, for the first time in a long time things are great at home. I’m happy. I feel excited about where my life is going.

I’m active and playing two sports and still biking almost everyday. I have been given a great opportunity to challenge myself professionally. I have someone to share my time with. I’m happy.

And being away from all that in Ottawa, I’ve suddenly realized that I’m homesick. I miss my life in Vancouver.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we haven’t really found fun stuff to do here in Ottawa, but I’m pretty sure it’s not that. If I really wanted to, I’m sure I could find something, or at the very least be satisfied with sitting in a park by the parliament buildings reading Moneyball and drinking a Coffee Frappucino Lite.

I’m sure that it’s because I miss my home, I miss my sports. And I especially miss my Love. I’ve realized that it wasn’t that I’m not the homesick type; it was just that I didn’t have anything or anyone to be homesick about.

Now I do.

And somewhat paradoxically, I’m happy about being homesick.

8. I’ve had a love of musicals since I was about 12.

There wasn’t much theatre in Williams Lake where I grew up so I would buy soundtracks to musicals and memorize them. To this day I can sing you almost anything by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

It all started when a family friend got a new cd player with a selection of CDs.  This was in 1989, so CD players were a big deal.  One of the CDs was The Premiere Collection: The Best of Andrew Lloyd Webber.  It had some of the “best” songs from most of the musicals Andrew Lloyd Webber had released up to and including The Phantom of the Opera.  I loved it.  I don’t know why I loved it so much but I listened to it as much as I could and taped the whole CD so that I could listen to it at home.

I quickly moved on to full cast recordings, Phantom being the first one I ever got.  Not only did I have the London Cast Recording but I also had the Canadian Cast recording.  I bought other shows by Andrew Lloyd Webber.  I joined Columbia House Music Club because it was hard to get musical recordings in Williams Lake, so I would just order them.

Eventually, I made my Mom take us to Calgary to see Phantom.  We went to Calgary because we had missed the run in Vancouver, and I was certain that it wouldn’t come back (I was very wrong.  It came back a lot.)  By this point I had memorized the whole album and had a picture in my head of what it would look like.  Now when I say memorized, I mean to the deepest part of my mind.  I could sing any part, any song: could tell you if the orchestration was a little different or what words were different between the different cast recordings.  I was obsessed.

I was able to memorize these shows (I can sing a song from pretty much any ALW or other big Mega-musicals) because I would listen to them over and over, and put them on my stereo as I was falling asleep.  So I’m pretty sure I could memorize a new album in less than a week.

This was the only way I could be exposed to theatre because I was living in Williams Lake.  Which is known for forestry, rodeos, sports and drinking; not culture or the arts.  There’s a small community theatre group but not much else.  I had to go to Vancouver to see any of the big shows.  And I did that as much as I could too.

I would go with anyone who was going.  They could have been a friend of a friend of a friend of my mom’s friend, I didn’t care.  I would have went by myself (and I have done, that’s how I saw Les Miserables).  And whenever I did make the 6 hour drive to Vancouver, I would always make sure that we ended up in a mall or A&B Sound so that I could go through the Cast Recordings section and find the shows that I didn’t have.  There were times I would spend 1-2 hundred dollars on CDs.

I still enjoy musicals.  I don’t buy as many soundtracks as I used to, and don’t really listen to the ones I have a lot.  But I do check out Broadway.com to find out about the new musicals coming to Broadway and the West End.  I still find the soundtracks to the Tony Nominated shows and listen to them to see if I like them.  I’ve gotten a bit more discerning in my musical taste.  I’ve moved on to Sondheim and left the Andrew Lloyd Webber (though it will always hold a special place in my heart.)  I love Shakespeare, American, Canadian and British plays.  I’ve read some of the classic plays and seen A LOT of theatre and I love it all.

And in the end, my love of musicals eventually led me to the career I want.  I haven’t performed in many musicals, but I’d never pass up the chance.

7. Most Of My Close Friends Are Girls.

There’s a couple guys but it’s mostly girls.  I don’ t know how to qualify this one, it just seems to be the way things are.  I’ve tried to reason it out but there’s no defining cause.   I think in the end there’s no reason other than circumstance and luck.

When I was young I mostly had guy friends; my best friends were guys.  I think this is normal in most people, you connect with the people that are most like you.  You’re probably going to like playing the same games, with the same toys, etc.  Don’t get me wrong, I had friends that were girls but they weren’t really my closest friends.  Girls were still a mystery to me.  We could ride bikes together but when it came down to it, it was the guys that slept over and played Lego and GI Joe till midnight.

Now I’d say most of my close friends are girls.  While they don’t stay over and play Legos, they are the people that I’m more likely to have personal conversations with.   I think this is because I feel like girls are more open and trustworthy.  Like there’s no judgment.  I can talk about things with girls that I feel like a guy might think is weak or stupid.

I have no reason to think this.  The guy friends I have in my life are the best kind.  Open, honest, understanding, non-judgmental and actually do care about me.  I would even say this about the ones that I wouldn’t necessarily count as “best friends”.   I guess really it’s more of my faulty idea of how men work.  Men have to be tough, closed off, and unconcerned about things like emotions, fears, or needs.

Is this because of how I was raised?  Maybe, but not really.  I have a great relationship with my Dad and brother.  While we don’t seek each other out when we have huge personal problems, I know that I could if I wanted to.  I just think I get a little more embarrassed talking to a guy about certain things than with a girl.  It doesn’t really make sense, which why I can’t really qualify this Thing.

In the end, I guess I’ve just been lucky to meet and make friends with the people that I have.  For the most part I can trust all of them to be there and to listen when I need them too, regardless of their sex.

Oops

I forgot to schedule the next post and so it didn’t go out on Monday as promised. Sorry about that, not a good start to the whole “deadline” theory. I’ve rescheduled it properly but I think I’ll hold on to it till next week and leave you with this instead.

Here’s a random Thing about me that you may not know…

I’m easily distracted by a pretty lady, a long weekend and good company.

See you next week with Thing #7.

6. I Wanted To Be A Writer When I Grew Up.

I wanted to be a professional writer when I was in elementary school.  There were others of course. Stuntman, businessman, super-hero but writing was the one that actually felt attainable to me.   This was mostly due to my love of reading and my fascination with the way writing can be clear communication between the author and anyone who reads his book.  I didn’t want to be anything other than a novelist though; no journalism, screenwriting, playwriting, songs, poetry or anything like that.  I didn’t even consider writing shorts stories.  I wanted to write a book, a full novel.  At least 300 pages.  I’ve only ever written one book.  I’m pretty sure it was only 12 pages long, but it was a start.

When I was in Grade 4 the teacher picked four students who were far enough ahead in their regular school work to write a picture book (I was a good student when I was in elementary school.  I got straight A’s 3 times!).  We could write about anything and then pick someone in the class to illustrate it or do it all ourselves.  When the books were done they would be laser photocopied in colour (remember, this is the late 80’s so that was high tech!  Colour photocopies?  Somehow done with a laser? Amazing) laminated, and put into a binder.  One copy would be mine, one the illustrator (I’m not very good at drawing so I asked my friend Aaron to illustrate but I did the colouring) and one would go in the school library.  The school library!  Like a real book!  Next to the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and the Beverly Cleary books I loved so much at the time (oh Ramona you rascal)!

My book was about a mouse and a rabbit that decided to go in a cave they find in the forest and get lost. They wander around for sometime looking for the way out but get more and more lost and more and more scared.  Eventually, they run into  a scary voice who asks them why they are in his home.  They explain themselves and it turns out the scary voice is a mole who lives in the cave and turns out to be a nice guy.  He gives them some food and water and helps them to the surface and tells them if they want to come and visit they are welcome anytime.

It didn’t really have a moral or any complex symbolism but it was my first published writing that had a Dewey Decimal number and was in a library for children to read and enjoy for years to come.  I was so proud and would check to see if it had been read or taken off the shelf.  I think it might have been read a couple times because it had moved on the shelf but I don’ t think it was ever checked out.  I don’t know how long they kept the book in the library.  I’m sure it was there at least until I left the school after Grade 7, but I don’t imagine that it’s still there.  Part of me hopes that it is.  I still have my copy somewhere.  Probably buried in the bottom of a box, in storage at my Mom’s place.  If I can find it I’ll scan it and put up a picture.

I didn’t write anything after that.  I always tried, I would start a story or have an idea but not know where to go with it.  Eventually I would get frustrated or bored and give up.  This goes back to my penchant for procrastination and working under a deadline.  I couldn’t write for pleasure, I had to have a reason to finish.  I don’t think I really wrote anything else after that other than my solo show for Studio graduation, which I’m pretty sure I didn’t finish until a few days before I performed it.  I had writing assignments and stuff but I didn’t really invest too much in them.  Not like my Grade 4 work.

Nowadays, I want to write more.  I enjoy writing when it’s something I know about, hence the blog about me since that’s pretty much the only thing I know enough to write about.  I still have ideas for plays or short films that I think could be interesting but I still start and never finish them.  I find that I’m really good at editing or writing in partnership.  If there’s something to start with, I’m good at adding and clarifying.  Maybe I need a writing partner?  Part of the reason I started this blog is to get in the habit of writing; just putting words down to get those creative juices flowing again.  I don’t know that I’m very good at it yet (I just took a two month hiatus from writing anything) but I find it fun.  An interesting way to organize my thoughts and make them clear.

In the spirit of giving myself a deadline and working under pressure I am going to pledge to write a new post at least once a week.  If I put it out there then I’ll feel like I have to do it.  It’ll probably be on Mondays at around noon.  I’ll try to concentrate on the list and only add the Other Random Things when a good one comes along.

Take that Procrastination!

5. I Was Born Without a Sense of Fashion or Style.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.  Sorry, that’s the procrastination taking over.  This Thing isn’t the most exciting one on the list.  There’s not too much to say about it; mostly just excuses.

I say “born without” but that’s kind of dramatic and a bit of an excuse.  If I say I have no style then I don’t have to worry about being dressed well all the time.  It’s not that I don’t care about looking good, I think most people feel better when they look good.  It’s more of an excuse to not have to go clothes shopping.  I find shopping a bit frustrating and a little annoying.  This should all be in past tense though.  I’ve recently learned about clothes and shopping.

I used to hate going to the mall just to go in ten stores that were full of things that looked the same to me.  The crowds, the annoying music, the bad lighting that makes me feel tired all added up to me basically avoiding shopping and by extension, new clothes.

I’m a big fan of clothes as a gift.  Takes all the guess work out of fashion, especially if it’s someone I trust.  If I don’t have to go out and get the clothes all the better. If I do need to go shopping I enjoy “the go in try a few things on and pick a couple variations on the same cut, and out in about half an hour” style of shopping. Or even better is having someone pick the clothes for me to try and then tell me if I should buy it or not. Awesome. A personal shopper would be great but a girlfriend or friends are just as good or better.

The problem with not shopping is that when the occasion arises that dressing nice I usually only have a few options. Then I usually complain about not having enough clothes. It’s a bit of a Catch-22.

I’ve gotten better with shopping though. I don’t mind going out to shops and stores and looking around now. I actually like shopping with the right people. I’m starting to figure out what my “style” is. It’s kind of fun.

Thing Cut From the Original List

I often get so obsessed with a song that I have to learn it on the guitar.

This is especially funny when the song is a silly pop song where there really isn’t much to it musically like Mr. Brightside or a hip hop song like Stronger.  Songs that shouldn’t really be played on a guitar.

I went through a bit of an obsession with late 80’s early 90’s rock ballads like More Than Words, To Be With You, and Living On a Prayer, which I wouldn’t necessarily listen to all that much now but I needed to learn how to play them nonetheless.  I usually forget how not long after.  It’s more of a way of getting the song out of my head.

But it has lead me to learn some songs that have become my favourites.  Wish You Were Here, Robots, Timeless, Betterman, Last Kiss, to name a few.

A bit of a boring Thing; now you see why it was cut.

4. I’ve been single for almost five years. Partly out of heart-break and partly by choice.

Jeez, I’m not too sure I really thought this through.  This idea of a blog being about me and the “25 Things”.   It was easy to be a bit vague and elusive with the original list.   I could tease or skirt around an issue and that would be OK.   Mysterious and still honest and open.  But I can’t really do that here.

The stated purpose of this blog is “to expand on each one of these ‘things’. Not just explain them specifically but also figure out what they mean or how they affect my life.”  A little narcissistic but I like to think of it more as therapeutic.  Purging thoughts and feelings into my computer and then on to the internet for people to look at or not.

The obvious catch is that it’s only about me and therefore is personal. Extremely personal.  And I tend to be a bit more of a private person.  I’m a better listener than talker and I like that about myself.  Of course, I have the choice to not write things that I don’t want people to know and I will probably edit a lot of what I write in the first draft out of the posting; but at the same time I have committed to this being a kind of therapy and self reflection and the best way to do that is to be totally honest and open.

This next Thing is very personal for me. It’s something that I am willing to talk about but usually to a select group of close friends or in a certain environment. These conversations are usually long and confusing, and this post will probably follow that theme.  But…

Here goes.

I’ve been single since March 2004.  I don’t know the actual date because when it happened I didn’t really believe it.  I didn’t think it was real because I didn’t know the actual reason it was happening and I didn’t think it was permanent.

Paradoxically, it was both one of the most beautiful and sad things that has ever happened to me.  We just both knew.  This was the ending of it.  We didn’t discuss or fight or even talk that much.  We just looked at each other and cried.  All I remember saying is “I’ve been sad all day” and she said “Me too.”  That is all I can remember saying that lead to it being the end.  There were things we both said after the actual ‘decision’ that were painful and beautiful like, “I love you so much. Goodbye.” but they almost felt incongruous or random.  How did we get to “goodbye”?  It sounds melodramatic now but it was truthful and honest as I’m sure most of the melodramatic parts of life are.

I would have married her if I thought she would have said yes.  She was my best friend and the person I could spend everyday with and never get sick of or annoyed with.  There are few people that I open up fully to but she knew everything about me.  Absolutely everything.   She was the person to call me on my shit, the person who would make fun of me when I needed it, the person who would push me and challenge me in every aspect of my life and the person to make me feel better when I need that too.  I’d been in love before but the love I had with her made the previous one seem small and immature in comparison. **deep breath**

But this is about being single for the last five years and why.  When we ended I was confused, hurt and lost even though I say we both knew at the time I didn’t know why afterwards.  I felt lost because I had taken it out of my mind that I would ever need to find another person.  I wasn’t very good at it in the first place.  She was really the first girl that I had pursued instead of just letting the situation take care of itself.  When I found myself in a place of “looking” again I not only thought I didn’t have the ability but also, I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t have the energy or the emotional availability.

I didn’t even attempt for over a year afterwards. And when I finally did I chickened out when it became “too much”. I went into a new relationship thinking “If this person isn’t ‘The One’ then why bother?” which automatically didn’t give it a chance to become anything. No chance to be something different or new. In my head I knew this was what was happening but my heart was too stubborn to change. It was safer. (Again a little melodramatic but honest.)

And there were the unresolved feelings. The feelings that were left-over and not really addressed or even acknowledged by either of us. But as part of my dealing with my version of Depression, I made the moves to find some closure. A letter. An honest letter. It didn’t happen how I thought it would but it happened eventually and I feel pretty good about it. Or at least a little more satisfied. Ready to move on, or rather, continue.

I’ve realized that I can’t be as passive or scared about this part of my life. It doesn’t work that way, especially in Vancouver it seems. I find it hard to meet people that are out of my regular social circle in this city. Don’t get me wrong, there are some amazing people in my circle but I think the real fun in getting to know people lies in how they are different from you. And for someone who finds it difficult at the best of times, being in this city of “no looking” people, I’ve had to become who I didn’t think I was. Not so much aggressive but more along the lines of open.  Or aggressively open.

I’m still working on this. I am dating or at least trying to date. I’m finding I’m not as terrible at it as I thought, though I ask for advice a lot. I’m over most of my hang ups about replacement or “The One”. I know that to find the woman for me I have to let go of the expectations and let happen what is going to happen and see where it takes me. I’m ready to be in a relationship or at the very least, open to the process of finding one.  I truly want that part of my life to be fulfilled again. I miss it.

Random Thing About Me

I am the Coast Plaza Hotel & Suites’ 2008 Pringle (sic) Eating Champion.

I ate a stack of 28.  Unbroken and unaided by extra liquid.

The roof of my mouth was torn up for about a week afterwards.  You can’t really chew in the beginning so you have to crush the stack against the roof of your mouth with your tongue for the first couple of chews.

3. I Didn’t Understand Depression for the Longest Time. I Always Thought “Just get over it”. Now I Get It.

I’m not going to lie, this one scares me a bit which is why it’s taken this long to post. Not in that I have something to hide but in that I don’t really feel qualified to talk about it.  I’ve never been diagnosed with depression by a doctor or even a friend.  I can’t say that I really thought I was depressed in some deep meaningful way. I just think that I can now accept that the feelings that I had were not the best and were a little out of my control. These feelings could be dealt with and helped along the road to not feeling them but the actual doing of it would be tough.

I don’t know the definition of depression, what it means in a medical or psychological way and I don’t think that I really need to. I’m talking about my own personal kind of depression. For me the feelings that I relate to being depressed are ones of loneliness, unhappiness, boredom and inadequacy. And in the end, those feelings boil down to a lack of passion. Passion in my personal life, career life, physical life, mental life and the challenges that are missing in each of those categories. If I don’t have something/someone/somewhere to be passionate about I don’t feel fulfilled.

“Well then,” rational me says “if you don’t like what’s missing in your life, do something about it. The only person who can is you, so do it and feel better. Voila!”

“Easier said than done” comes to mind. Followed closely by “True”.

What holds me back from just going out and finding a new love, a new job, a new sport, a new hobby?

Nothing.

Just me.

And that’s what is depressing.

Really, my form of depression (I suspect most people have their own brand of it) doesn’t come from the things missing in my life or outside factors but from my inaction or inability to do something about it.

I realized this about myself around a year ago.    I realized that it was the absence of passion that was making me feel depressed and decided to do something about it.  I made my day job better for me by making it what I wanted it to be; a means to an end. I wasn’t just sitting back waiting for my career to take off because of the good money and convenient schedule that my “job” gave me. I actively pursued and got an agent. I took a film and TV audition class. I remembered what my priority is.

I took up photography as a new hobby. I had always been intrigued by the skill and craft that photography demands. I haven’t been able to commit to a class but I think that is coming soon. I love doing it and am getting the hang of it too.

I am playing on two softball teams in the summer. I signed up to be part of a soccer team starting in March. I push myself physically when I can, even if it just means sit-ups and push ups. I’ve tried working out but I still don’t like it.

The only one I’m still trying to work on is the whole find a new love. I go through the motions of trying to meet people. I try to go out more now. I am trying on-line dating for the second time but it’s a bit strange and I didn’t have the best experiences the first time around. But it’s the trying that counts. Anyway, this is a whole other post.

Am I depressed now? No.

Have I really been depressed? I doubt it.

Do I get what it means to be depressed? I think so. I can only really know my particular brand of it.

Do I still think “Just get over it”? Maybe a bit; but only for myself.  I understand that it’s different for everyone and that most people have their own version of it and have to find out how to deal with it their own way.