Sarah. the girl you didn't know you needed.

To Tell You.

2009-04-19T22:53:00.005-05:00

The girl you didn't know you needed.
Mostly because she never updates her blog.

I need to tell you that less than 8 months after major knee surgery, I performed an aerial hammock act. I don't think I'd ever been so nervous. Take that Doctor Who Said I'd Be Starting To TRAIN Around One Year Out. (But seriously. Thanks for doing a good job on the knee.) I'm at 1 year and 2 months now. I'm doing jumping squats and deep lunges at the gym. Little tweeks and soreness sometimes. But it's getting better and better.

I'm not getting professional (i.e. paying) aerial work right now, which is really really frustrating. But hardly anyone is. It's been...hard...lately.

I need to tell you that I was invited to join a band today. In the past few weeks music has suddenly come roaring back into my life with the force of a thousand missiles. And it's awesome.

I hadn't sat down at a piano with any of the songs we were going to jam with today really at all...we were just going to improvise anyway... but i've been listening to them a lot. Well I just sat down and...all of my past music training...all of my confidence in my own ear...all of it just...worked. I guess being a musician for more than ten years (despite the breaks) stick in the far corners of your mind. I made up amazing phrases and chords on the spot, with the guitarist playing along. I even sang harmony at the same time. And I felt alive. Like the most wonderful form of therapy that there ever was. Orgasms mixed with dark chocolate and warm laundry. For a long time it was my therapy. And suddenly, when my life has felt the darkest it's felt in a very long time; with nights spent on the floor of my closet with the door closed wishing that I'd just have the courage to ask someone to come over or even just stay on the phone with me for a few minutes...music comes shooting back into the picture. It's scary the things that God actually hears you say.

I'm finally starting to feel like I have the potential to create a real community for myself here. Like, running into people at coffee shops and at plays and realizing that I know more people than I think I do. I've felt so incredibly free floating lately. And not in a No Cares In The World kind of way. More like in a Oh My God Someone Please Tell Me That You Can See Me I Think I'm Disappearing kind of way. I have a few wonderful friends, some who've just moved across the country (a'hem coughcough) before we had a chance to have a 2nd annual memorial day picnic...but there will be more in the future. Maybe in a different state or time...but somewhere.

I need to tell you that the performance I was yesterday afternoon went really well. I was funny and looked cute in my costume. And after it was over, I decided to take a 3 hour drive to surprise my little brother to see a play workshop he was putting on. He's an amazing kid, that one. And I love long drives. It helped my stress level. It lowered it a bit. Driving. In the car. Just with music. And a notebook perched on the steering wheel in case anything brilliant decided to float through my head.

I need to tell you that my cat is snoring a few feet away from me.

I need to tell you that I'm still sad a lot of the time. I miss people. People that are here and people that are far away. And I don't know if they're thinking about me. Maybe they are...if I try very carefully to feel it.

I wish I knew that I meant the world to someone.

photo by The One and Only.

Fall, Late.

2008-09-26T12:19:00.002-05:00

I love fall. I felt so creative on Monday (the first day). I had one of the best aerial rehearsals that I've had probably since before Gnometenna Removal of 2008.

Speaking of the Little ACL That Could, it's been 7 months since surgery. And I'm getting ready for an aerial performance on November 1st. Cool huh?

Can't say that it's 100 percent, because it's not, but I'll wait until 1 year has passed until I start to get *really* annoyed. I'm not gigging as much as I want to [uh...strike that...] At All, but hopefully once I get this act together I'll be on the radar a little more. It's getting frustrating. Not going to lie.

I'm being overwhelmed with these huge feelings of self doubt in regards to 2 seperate classes/workshops coming up that I'm going to be participating in. One is an audition class and the other is a "masters" scene study. I'm being overwhelmed with huge feelings of self doubt in regards to these two things. Did I already say that? Springfield is a part of us all...a part of us all...a part of us all...

I wish the damn leaves would start their changin' already. I wish a lot of things. That's the one that is pretty likely will happen whether I do something about it or not.

Hmm. How hopeless of me.

Scary Things.

2008-08-17T11:03:00.004-05:00

1. Drinking more than you have in probably 3 years and making yourself so sick that you remember why you said you'd never do that again. (oh my god. I feel like I'm going to feel nauseous forever.)

2. Realizing that you love Boulder, CO and maybe you should move there.

3. Feeling like you poisoned yourself last night.

4. Applying for jobs that you have no business applying for but you're tired of worrying about if you're good enough so why the fuck not.

5. Wondering how you're going to make enough money to live on for the rest of your life.

6. Feeling like you need to throw up again but there's utterly nothing left in your system.

7. Having the same fears and problems that you did before you got to forget about them for a few hours.

8. Realizing that how you physically feel right now was not worth forgetting about your fears and problems for a few hours.

9. Michael Phelps is quite possibly the alien's first attempt and sending us a man/fish hybrid, and they've seen that it was successful and now they're going to invade (maybe).

10. Oh my god I seriously feel so incredibly ill.

Bike.

2008-08-01T21:59:00.000-05:00

There is sentimental value in the strangest things.

It's not really about the bike. Because it is old and there are bigger/better/faster ones on the market. I can't afford a new one at the moment, but someday I will.

But my dad gave me those baskets before I left for grad school in Boston. It was my car over there. I knew how it worked, how it felt. It took me everywhere. Lately, it was *still* my car. It was my moms, then it was mine. I loved that bike.

Who knows if I'll ever see it again. If you see some punk ass mother fucker riding or selling an old white TRECK with green and black mesh baskets on the sides, kick him in the balls and take it back for me.

This isn't helping my outlook on the world.

Steps.

2008-07-21T22:05:00.005-05:00

I did an ankle hang on the trapeze today...something that my knee was saying a big NO THANKSMKAYTRY AGAIN NEXT TIMEKBYE even just a few days ago.

I should be more excited about it. I keep thinking that these little victories will be more like huge celebrations...that I'll get all emotional or something. And there were even people around when I did the trick today.

But there was nothing.

A small "yay"...but mostly, it doesn't seem like a big deal. Is it? Isn't it?

I'm in a complete creative black hole, and it's sucking me down deeper into whatever the hell it is that I'm trying to fight off. I'm falling into negative assumptions about everyone, myself, my friends, my life, everything. I'm a horrid choreographer (it's never been my job...) and I desperately want to start putting acts together. But I just can't. I listen to my music and I can see how it feels or what fucking colors the piece is suppose to be...but I can't think of the moves.tricks.sequences.whatever.

I feel like that one part in the Neverending Story...you know...that bog part...where it's just...well...you know.

Usless.

Cartwheels.

2008-07-10T11:49:00.004-05:00

Yesterday while I was teaching a circus class a student asked me to demonstrate a simple tumbling sequence that I had asked them to do. It involved a lunge, straight leg lift, cartwheel, half turn, into a backwards roll. A cartwheel. My physical therapist had come to class (beyond the call of duty, right?) to see the kind of things I need to be able to do...so I looked over at her and said..."can I try a cartwheel?" She smiled and nodded.

I felt my heart lurch a little. Never in my life had I been nervous to try a cartwheel. It's my knee. It knows...stop be scared...

So, 6 months after tearing my ACL by doing a partner cartwheel...I did a cartwheel. I had complete control, and nothing bad happened. I don't know if I'll ever be able to try a partner cartwheel again, but never say never. I'm coming up on 5 months out from surgery. I hear that 6 and then 8 months are when things start to feel more "normal". Whatever that means.

Small victories...

Fourths.

2008-07-04T22:48:00.002-05:00

I've never been in the city during the 4th of July. The bizarre tradition of an entire city [strike that] country shooting off exploding colors. echoing off buildings like gun shots.

My fourths in the past few years have been very memorable. Mostly because of the people i've been with. Boston with my new family of 18, Texas with my two favorite boys from said family, home like old times with my actual family...and tonight, with my mostly new...(about 9 months old) city friends...standing on their rooftop in The Trendy But Still Cute neighborhood watching every neighborhood's fireworks and a view of the skyline. Three hundred and sixty degrees. It was surreal and wonderful.

Standing on the roof, looking at the whole city exploding...I couldn't help but still feel very alone. I tend to feel particularly isolated in large crowds...which is maybe why I don't like being in them. I'm not sure what this week (or three) of little black rain cloud is at the moment. I'm putting on a good face...doing my funny voices...making jokes and laughing and being more social than I've been in years...but doing a slow three hundered and sixty degree turn on the roof, surround by all those people, the world slowed down and I was catapulted back through past years of smiles and laughing and the same crick in my neck that I get from staring up at the sky exploding. There's something wonderful and sad about tradition. I don't think I'll attempt to philosophize on it at the moment.

I felt like I was floating. Like I was watching. I'm always watching. All the people...

It was a lovely night. I'll remember it forever. I'll remember a lot of things forever.

I would've loved to be in someone's arms on the roof. Not even in a romantic way really...just...someone to keep me from leaving...to stay in the moment...something tactile to hold onto. There were plenty of people who probably would've, had I asked.

That's the problem though, isn't it.

What happens when you're scared to ask.

Life in Art.

2008-06-23T08:18:00.004-05:00

Yeah, I'm not pretending that my title isn't based on the Stanislavski memoir, My Life In Art. Read that MoFo of a book sometime. Then read War and Peace. Then tell me you still don't understand Russian culture (you will, by the way.)

I'm sad today because two sad things happened. This Guy died, and This Place closed.

I guess the This Guy was going to happen eventually...and he had a good life and made a lot of people laugh so I'll mostly just miss his stand-up specials and guest appearances.

But the This Place...it makes me nervous and stressed out about my future in the American theatre. It was in my list of Top Places that I *really Really* wanted to work someday. This Place had just won a regional theatre Tony award...did "crazy" things like incorporating puppets, music, circus, mask, and spectacle into their shows...and was basically a theatre company where, if I were to start a company, would have been Just.Like.Them.

The production of Carmen that they brought to the American Repertory Theatre blew my mind...and opera doesn't usually blow my mind.

I'm stressed out because if a huge company can't make it work...after 30 years...how the fuck am I going to?

Sometimes the world feels really small, and little victories (like doing a toe hang on the trapeze on Thursday for the first time in 5 months) are huge and make you feel like you're part of something huge.

But other times (like now, and a lot, recently [except for the toe hang moment]) I feel like the world is impossibly big...and I'm half drowning most of the time...and my knee still isn't solid enough to climb the figurative (and literal, actually) ropes to higher ground. I need to get acts put together. I need to nail auditions. I need more clients to train so that I can pay my rent without stressing out while doing the things I actually love.

I want to do amazing things. But I feel so unfocused at the moment.

What It's Not.

2008-06-15T12:50:00.006-05:00

I suppose that from an outside eye, I probably do have a pretty “strange” life. I thought that the ‘planned out’ part of my day was going to be finished after the trapeze class I taught yesterday (there’s the first “strange” thing). But a phone call changed all that.

In the champagne bar in the middle of downtown that I found myself being taken to last night after teaching a burlesque class to a really great group of women at a bachelorette party (second “strange” thing), I felt like I had stepped into New York night life. Usually, if I step into a place like that, I’m one of the performers. As I walked through a sea of trendy 30 something’s, I wondered how many of them actually live the life of champagne bars on Saturday night and how many of them were just pretending, like me.

A lot of the women I met last night live In The Posh Section of town, where there are a lot of people at outdoor cafes All The Time...where rent is ridiculous, where it’s too social for my taste. I kept thinking about my quiet little neighborhood...sort of residential, a little industrial, very working class...not trying to be what It's not.
As I walked through The Posh Neighborhood (where there happened to be a huge art fair going on so there were even MORE people out and about. It's was scary and claustrophobic, actually), I couldn't help but judge a lot of the people that I saw. Thin, tan (and not because they work outside all day), a lot of money, young, done up, etc. And I couldn't help but wonder if all of those people live that life or if they're trying to make it look like they live that life.

I think the former is a more disturbing thought to me, but I also think that the former is probably true. I won't judge the women I was with last night, because they were, at the end of the day, "just a bunch of girls from Indiana celebrating with their best friend" (their words, not mine).

Even If I was in the position to be able to do that, to go to champagne bars and have a social night life like all those people sitting in the outdoor cafes, I don't know if I’ll ever really feel like I "belong" in places like that. At least in that part of town. I secretly wish that I could. But maybe I fight it because I usually find so much facade in places like that...or maybe it's my own 'putting on' of that onto those kinds of people. Not only will I hesitate to judge my experience last night, but I’ll embrace it. Because for a few minutes, all clichés were broken for me. The cliché of body type, of sexy, of fun, of my own (In)ability, of that Neighborhood, of the people that live there, of bachelorette parties, of girlfriends. It’s not about where you are, it seems. But more the people you are with. I felt really taken care of and included in the group of people I was with yesterday. I didn’t have to play at being fancy, because with the people I was with, I didn’t need to be. They were so cool, and I felt so included. And it didn’t matter Where we were. We happened to be in a really fucking cool place that I’d love to go to again, and it’ll be just as fun to see them again at a house party watching Top Chef or on a blanket at Ravinia.

I have a strange life. I do a lot of strange things. I’m usually working during the time that other people have having happy hour in outdoor cafes. I’ve never been one for the bar scene. Last night while sitting in the New York Like bar, I couldn't help but think about the little dark lounge in the middle of The Bad Neighborhood right next to our old training space. How it never tries to be what it’s not. Where I can work on the trapeze until my hands bleed and walk over, smelling of rosin and chalk, hair a mess and still have the bar tender flirt with me, because I belong in that neighborhood and it’s our place. We’re "the aerialists down the street". And how the "bangers" on the corner might not actually all be bangers, but might actually just be young guys who are too hot in their unairconditioned apartments and would rather sit outside where it’s cooler after the sun goes down. I don't tend to walk to my car alone when I’m around there, especially on the weekend...but I’ve never felt like I was in immediate danger on that street.

The champagne bar Was What It Was, but was it really? I’ll be the first person to admit that I always feel like places like that are trying too hard...that they aren't actually cool but are pretending to be. That maybe it was a joke that snowballed out of control under the weight of its own facade. Or maybe my definition of cool isn’t "normal". Maybe It's easier for me to think that those place, or people, are faking it because I so often feel so far below them that if they weren't faking it, then what the hell would that make me?

In grade school, after I realized that the popular kids weren't really the ones that were liked; I stopped caring about being pushed out of the group. I embraced being a floater. I loved (and still do) being liked by all kinds of different groups, being able to fit in all different kinds of places, and not be tied into anything.

The problem that happened, I think, is that I am now tied into nothing. I think this is why I long for a sense of community with people. When I’m a part of something, even if it’s just for a little while, I soak it in with the same intensity that a plant in the desert does water after the first rain in months. I drown myself in it. I fall in hard and it hurts when it’s "over".

When we did the show at The Huge Church, for 3 weeks, I felt like I was in a community not only of my fellow performers, but of thousands of people who believed in the power of prayer as a way of life. That was so different for me. And I left a tiny piece of my heart there when it was over.

Sometimes, I feel like I leave so many little pieces of my heart in so many different places (third “strange” thing) that I’ll have to be a floater forever so that I won't be completely empty. That I’ll constantly be moving from place to place, going back to old places, holding onto old memories so that my heart, though spread out, at least feels a little more whole. It's starting to make more sense to me...why I get so attached to people and places...it's because as scary as It is, and as hard as It is for me to do so, once I leave some Heart there, I feel like I have to take care of it...and that includes the people around it or the place that it's left. This is all starting to sound very metaphysical and strange. To me (and maybe this is scary or the fourth "strange" thing), those things are What It's Not. It's a very real sensation. As an actor, I spent time learning where emotion lives in the body. It's a real sensation. It's a floating, a distancing, a pulling, an expanding...like the last puzzle piece dropping into its slot when I get to "visit" places that my heart lives. Actually, that visit shouldn't be in quotes. It's a real sensation. When I dropped a piece of Heart at The Huge Church during the Christmas show, a few days ago when I got to go back there for a Q and A session (for the first time since December) I felt a stitching up in my chest. Like I was a magnetized suit of armor and that Piece left there was made of the most energized metal. I walked into the huge theatre space, and tried to inhale my heart back into my body. It smelled the same; it still felt like a huge room, I was bombarded with memories from every direction.

I guess what I’m trying to get at, is that last night, it was strange for me to find myself letting a piece of my heart go in an environment where I usually put up steel barriers. Whether that is with words, with avoidance, with presumption, or by simply writing it off as "silly" or "not my thing".

When people remind me that I do "belong" or that I am "wanted" or whatever, I don't think my response has ever been "I know". "I know" is what it’s not. It’s always been a surprised and delighted reaction, which always confuses people for some reason. I know this has to do with self esteem. Save the psychoanalysis. I’m (clearly) doing it for you.

I think we're all always trying to fit In. And I think I’ve made it more difficult for myself because I don't feel like I’m trying to fit in with a specific group. (and let's face It, I’d get too bored.) It’d be much easier if I were to chose a group and mold myself to that. If I had steps to follow. "Lose weight, dye hair, get a tan, talk about boating." "Gain weight, marry a doctor, have 3 kids, wear pearls." "Get a tattoo, move to England, start smoking, date a rock star." But I don't have steps. I don't really know where I want to be am. There are so many things I want to do, and places I want to go, and people I want to affect. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing it alone.

The perfectly well adjusted self actualized people in this world (or the loud-mouth fakers who think that they are) would tell me to "just by myself" or "be ok with being who you are", or some other ChIckenSoupMakeMySoulPuke type of answer. To be honest, I do know a few people who actually are ok being "on their own". I mean, for fuck's sake. I really do enjoy spending time with myself. I like to travel alone; I like to do my own thing. I love when I’m invited places with people but sometimes...no, a lot of the time, I feel left out...but mostly I want to be on my terms. So I talk myself into it being ok.

I’m starting to make more and more good friends that remind me that it’s not a solo-warrior-into-the-wilderness type of endeavor. But finding the people who'll actually float with you...

What it’s not, is easy.
What it’s not, is set in stone.
What it’s not, is risk less.
What it’s not, is comfortable.
.
.
.
What it is, is very thought provoking.
What it is, is very exciting.
What it is, when it’s good, is eye opening. And very good.

Polars.

2008-06-10T13:28:00.006-05:00

I usually don't drink caffeinated coffee. It's not something I want to get dependent on, and it dehydrates you, and blah blah blah.
Today, the weather is maybe the nicest it's been in, oh, all year. No ya'll. Srsly. It sort of makes me sad, as I feel like it'll never be this nice ever again, but that's probably mostly not true. If it stayed Just. Like. This. for the next few weeks, I'd deal with whatever the hell else the summer could throw at me. Bring it on, as long as it could be like this for just a Few.More.Days.

Some day, I honestly think I might be bipolar. No really. I'm not "trying to joke about it" or whatever. Based on how fast I'm typing and how zonkey (yeah, I just invented a word) I'm feeling, I really think I might be. In the last hour or so, I've decided that I want to buy a condo on the street where I just had brunch with one of my favorite people, even though I'm not Quite trendy enough for it...I want to have brunch at outdoor cafes every single day, I want to put some purple highlights in my hair, I want to do this that and the other, not show up at work, be snarky at the audition I have today (because honestly, being the short chubby girl who's suppose to look "edgy but not too sexy" I could probably get away with it), and go out partying tonight. Not that I have the money to do any of those things...but I'm suddenly feeling all TakeOverTheWorldRIGHTNOW...which when coupled with how I felt yesterday (let's not even talk about it), makes me think that I'm really am a little...uh...all over the place.
Or, I could chalk it up to the weather being awesome and the fact that I probably had just a few too many cups of regular coffee today. I always boasted that "caffeine doesn't effect me! ha HA!"...but maybe that's because I usually only have an 8 ounce cup of coffee of it. Yeah...I'm feeling a little bit like I'm on some sort of fasty-drug. Fasty? Really Sarah? I'm inventing words all over the place today.
Oh man I'm going to go back outside RIGHT NOW. I want to go run around. Too bad I can't really do that with my knee being all blunked still.
Yeah. I just invented another word. I should quit while I'm ahead. This post might go on private at some point. It's a little...uh...weird.

Calendar Days.

2008-06-08T18:19:00.002-05:00

Anniversaries are strange.

I'm not sure exactly how many weeks it's been since the New ACL of 2008 happened...but what I do know is that this morning when I stretched my legs out of the fetal position that I normally sleep in, my knee didn't feel like it needed to "spring back" from being straight...it almost felt like stretching the other one. That was a nice change of pace. I hope it lasts.

Four years is a long time to have something out of your life, that was once a big part of it. Sorry, I'm being cryptic, I'm aware of that.

I'm going to go to the trapeze space and practice until my hands bleed.

Running.

2008-06-06T08:58:00.004-05:00

Things seem to change so quickly that on one hand I wish I'd write more of it down, and on the other hand by the time I write it it's almost like it didn't even happen.

In the past 2 weeks...

I...

Uh...

Let's see...

Wore a short blue wig and juggled for a bunch of drug company upity ups, helped move the aerial dance company's space, tasted a 25 year old tawny port, cleaned my apartment 3 times, got a few new clients, had one of my clients tell me that she loves exercising with me and I better not ever quit or "I'll [she'll] follow you" (that was nice to hear), did a 2 day shoot for Dave and Busters where I had to hang out in an arcade for 12 hours a day sitting in front of windex sprayed food and salt filled beer (it keeps a foamy head on top so it looks fresh), wore high heels for a few hours which made my knee hurt a lot...

and today I ran on a treadmill in physical therapy for the first time in three and a half months.

I just got a new client that is rehabbing from a car accident (she's pretty much totally better). Did an assesment yesterday and she was talking about how hard it's been to be so limited and feel like "a 95 year old woman who can't do anything". That it's been like, "6 weeks and I'm so Frustrated...I'm finally feeling mostly back to normal but it's taken Forever!"

...

6 weeks.

"Forever".

When I kept telling her that "I understand too well" I'm not sure if she really got just How Much. 6 weeks? SIX WEEKS? I started to be able to walk without a limp at 6 weeks. Try 12 weeks. Or, no, 14...I think. And things still aren't "normal". I'm in that growly angry place of ThisisnevergoingtogetbetterandwhyisittakingsofuckinglongandwhydoesitstillhurtinadifferentwayandOhMyGodi'mSOoverit. I understand where she's coming from, and while I can be, nay, Am highly compassionate about it, part of me is like...yeah..._____. (That's me not really knowing what to say.)

I thought that running on a treadmill might make me sort of proud of myself today, but it mostly felt like I was being mocked. I don't know by who or what, but it was like my body was patronizing me.

And I felt [strike that] Was all jiggly. Everywhere. Gross.

Oops, sorry, my insecurity is showing.

I should quit writing for the day while my censor is still working a little bit.

The Day That Rocked.

2008-05-27T10:21:00.016-05:00

When J.K. Rowling wrote about Time Turners in the HP books, I think she tapped into something much more powerful than the idea of some external thing that slows down time for you. I think, (and stay with me here) that we have the ability to slow down time for things that are that important to us. Hermionie slowed down time for her education. Yesterday, for one of the first times in a very Very long time, I found myself being able to slow down time for being.

Sometimes, you're lucky enough to have days that stick out in your memory as so far from your normal routien that it almost feels like someone else's life. Then you get sad because you want that to Be YOUR life, but then you realize, hey, wait a minute, that was my life...and vow to make it happen more and more.

I didn't feel like I was in Chicago yesterday. I felt like I was sitting in a field on some distant planet somewhere (and some of the infrared pictures certianly helped that!) where time just sort of s l o w e d d o w n . . .

When's the last time I went on a honest to goodness picnic? Like, a serious blanketandsandwitchesandwineinplasticcupsandkickyourshoesoff picnic? It was back when there'd be juice in those plastic cups, I can tell you THAT, at least. And it was probably in my own back yard during summer vacation, where I didn't have to worry about anything Anyway.

One of the hardest things for me to do (in the world, I think) is to stop. Because honestly, I don't know what what to do when I stop. Yes yes I see you shaking your head "Just do Nothing!" Right. Nothing. Good idea. ::sarcastic head tilt and hand gesture:: It's really hard to do nothing. I know how sharks feel, you know. If they stop swimming they'll drown (seriously!). I know, I know, I'm not a shark. But sometimes I get worried that if I stop, even for a moment, that I won't be able to start up again.

The good thing is, that theory was proven wrong. Turns out, stopping, especially with good friends around, is highly theraputic and a lot easier to "deal with" than I thought. There were a few moments at the start of The Stopping where my brain started firing off "Ack! You should be at the gym!" or "Eep! Don't eat that!" or "Say something! Ah! EnterTAIN!!" But I was able to turn those things off by playing with the pretty cameras that were spread out on the blanket.

After The Day That Rocked was coming to an end for me, I went back to the aerial space to practice a bit and to have a quiet place to go through my lines for an audition that I have later today.

I found the song "Transatlantisism" on my music player and plugged it into the speakers. It was song I had discovered and listened to obsessively on my way to and from the Huge Christmas Gig. I choreographed acts in my head to that song over and over...I was so happy during that show...the process...even the drive getting there...I felt so lucky during that time.

I started the song, put my script down, and started dancing (as best as I could with a still BeCarefulWithMe-knee) with the trapeze. (Did I tell you that 3 months ToTheDay after surgery, I tried a knee hang for the first time? Cool, right?) I got on it and moved to the song. Tried to do some of the choreography that I'd come up with 5 months ago and couldn't do most of it but at least I remembered.

I felt all of those old feelings that I first had when I was listening to it in the car all those months back...I moved and sat and hung and drapped myself over the bar, ropes, being careful with my knee but just trying to do it. Feeling supported by the warm-fuzzies of the day, of friends who will lay around with you on a blanket and not need you to entertain them.

I started to cry. And more tears came. When the song was over I went and put it on repeat. I felt The Stopping again. I turned it up and cried my eyes out. I cried and cried for being able to start to be back...I cried for the time lost...I cried for being lonely...I cried for being so greatful...I cried for the fears I mostly had put to rest by friends the night before...I cried for the Little Training Space that despite the rats and bad neighborhood, was the first place I feel like I actually trained in...I cried for how I isolate myself...I cried for how excited I am about the next few months...I cried because I know it's all going to work out...I cried because I'm frustrated with my body...I cried because on warm summery nights I miss being at home surrounded by a lot of people...I cried because I had 2 wonderful friends that I really just met in October lay on the ground looking up at the sky for hours, talking to me like we've known each other forever...I cried because I'm so unsure...I cried because I still feel left out sometimes...I cried because I was so happy...I cried because people understand...I cried because I Stopped and didn't know what else to do.

photos by TheGreatestPhotographerEver

3 Months.

2008-05-19T08:57:00.004-05:00

Happy 3 months New ACL.

My check-up a few days ago was uneventful, mostly with the doctor admiring his handy-work. Talking to the med student (who looked to be about 12) more than me..."Now, this patient had a doner graft ACL reconstruction, healing perfectly, if someone were to feel this [rubs his finger along the scar to the lower medial side of my kneecap] they wouldn't believe she ever had leg surgery."

?

Sigh.

The good thing about the visit though, is that he said I could SLOWLY start trying to do some knee hangs again. I.E., start training.
"Soft tissue takes 12 months to heal. But I'm not going to limit you to 12 months. Just no side to side yet and GO SLOWLY."

The thing that I've been wanting to hear the most ever since the day of the injury happened. Go back to normal, so to speak.

While I've been desperately wanting to start training again, there's a part of me that's now feeling like...Oh...Shit...now I have to face that thing of getting back into shape, and re-learning, and retracing steps that I've already done. And I need to start to deal with the fear associated with trying to trust my body again. What are the limits that I can go to? Are there any? There will be for the next few months still...but after that...then what?

Beth had a good point in that she pointed out that "you like the training part. you like the learning part. love the fact that you're sore and are getting back to it."

A wise thing to say, and a good way to shift my attitude about it. Can't say that I'll totally take away the frustration that'll be there, but it's a start.

It definately feels better every day, though last week was frustrating because it felt like it was regressing slightly, sort of wonky, not feeling great, quad hurt, blah blahBLAH. But it's doing ok today.

When I first realized I was going to need to get this thing fixed, my biggest 'bummer' of the whole thing was that I was going to be missing being in a show with my aerial company. After hearing the time line for 'healing', (and adjusting for my own personal Bad-Ass Quotent and Stubbornness Factor) I put myself at being able to "do stuff" right around when the show opened.

How ironic. And true.

Looptopia.

2008-05-04T12:07:00.004-05:00

I spent the weekend first frolicing (totally don't know how to spell that word) around the Loop, dressed in all white and a light blue cape...waving a kite around and doing performance arty type stuff for some Cirque du Soleil promotional stuff. Let me tell you, putting a clown nose on someone is INSTANT happy. Srsly. There was this older guy sort of leaning against a wall, didn't look too happy to be alive...he was the first nose I gave out. I went up to him and just placed it in his hand. He got the biggest smile on his face. It was the best day ever. I couldn't feel my feet after walking around for 8 hours, and my hair was a frizzy mess from the couple of rain showers that happened (one of which I hopped up on a bench and did slow motion dancing to)...but it was awesome.

Then yesterday was the mayor's "Kite Day", and so I handed out noses and flew kites with thousands of Chicagoland children and their parents. Except for the freezing ass weather, it was also the best day ever.

Today, both knees are bothering me, and I'm *so* over it. I'm so fucking TIRED of my body not working right. I couldn't run around yesterday, I couldn't climb on things downtown...it was really frustrating. You know that feeling when you're in a really hot room and you start to feel all GetmeoutofthisroomARGmySKINisCRAWLINGandI'MFREAKINGOUTAH-AH-AHLETMEOUTNOWWWWWWWWWWW ? That feeling...that's how I feel about my body still not being back to normal.

Sigh.

Just rehearsal today, so that's nice.

Through The Trees.

2008-04-27T10:08:00.002-05:00

Seeing the forest [strike] Forrest through the trees. The intensive was one of the most incredible experiences I've ever had, ever. My heart is different, my knee is different, my spirit is different.

At the first opportunity possible, I'm going to do the teacher training. Maybe not in Chicago, maybe in San Francisco or Boston...but it's going to be this year. It's important.

How to now keep this feeling...this drive, fire, whatever it is...an interesting challenge.

ACL...almost 10 weeks? 9? I've sort of lost count. It's still tweaky in certain ways...but I'm trying to have faith that it'll heal. Or...continue to heal.

8 Weeks.

2008-04-15T10:06:00.004-05:00

Happy 8 Weeks ya'll. Hey new ACL, you've been in my body for 2 whole months. How do you like it in there? Can you hurry up and get all the way better so that I can do my normal stuff again? Like weighted squats and one knee hangs on trapeze? Mkaythnks.

I've been doing yoga every morning with Ana Forrest. It's fucking awesome.

And I've been too busy trying to "catch up" with life, working 4 or so jobs...not sure how I'm doing it, but I am. Somehow.

Fighting off a coldcoughowmythroati'msooverthesebugsgoingaroundthisyearUGH. Hopefully the zycam will help get it out of my system faster.

It's strange. A few days ago my knee was feeling really good (that side attachment thing still hurt but it's slowely healing, I think/hope.) and then for the past 2 days it was all stabby and "fat" feeling. I irritated it somehow (not at yoga, but I believe, at work...from standing up and squatting down a bunch of times every day in the presentations) and aparently that "fat" feeling is swelling/fluid in the joint. GREAT. I iced it last night and it's feeling a bit better today. The un-fucking-ending saga. I had a different PT yesterday because my normal one is on vacation. Seriously, would've been better off not seeing him. He was doing things all "wrong". The stretches didn't feel good, he didn't know my body, it was just...weird. Sigh.

It seems like forever ago. 2 months is a long time. It isn't a long time. Soon it'll be 10 weeks, then 15, then 6 months, then 3 years, then I'll read this blog one day before going out on stage or before performing my totally bad ass rope act in front of hundreds of people and think "wow. good thing I got that taken care of back then."

I hope that day is sooner.

BUTT!

2008-04-04T22:31:00.002-05:00

my heel touched my butt!! MY HEEL TOUCHED MY BUTT!!!!

in PT the other day. uh...Wednesday? I think?

it didn't feel "good", in fact, it sort of "hurt" for "the whole time she was doing that stretch" but MY HEEL TOUCHED MY BUTT!!

Onward, bitches.

Overwhelmed.

2008-04-02T21:57:00.004-05:00

Title says it all, folks.

I am a walking, talking, [sometimes] breathing, real live personification of overwhelmed. Oh the days that I was laying on my back on lots of drugs not doing anything.

I guess I needed to go to the extreme so that someday I'll be able to find "normal" again.

And uh...gas at $3.69 a gallon? REALLY? Seriously?? How is that fucking POSSIBLE? I remember when $1.32 was "expensive". UGH.

New Everything.

2008-03-31T20:45:00.005-05:00

New apartment
New ACL
New jobs
New everything

It's both intimiating and great. Trying to rebuild routiens and get into a groove of some sort. I know I'll feel better once things are settled a little. Are things *ever Really* settled?

Six weeks post op tomorrow. Had an appointment with the Doc today. He said that I'm "rock solid" and to "keep taking it slow". I asked him "what can I do??" and he said "nothing that you want to do." HardyHarHar. Thanks man. It's ok. I keep thinking it's been a lot longer than it really has been.

I *feels* like a lot longer than it really has been.

It's strange. My body takes Mondays and Tuesday to decide to make progress. Like, I see "improvement" on Monday and Tuesdays. (Something will hurt less, I can bend it more, etc. etc.) It's cool. And sort of weird that my body seems to be on that specific of a clockwork type feeling.

Though, speaking of clockwork, I seem to wake up either at 7:39, 8:39, or 6:09. Every. Day.
I do like the number 9. It's my favorite, actually. I just think it's a little...well...odd. (Literally.)

Ha!

Yeah.

Almost a Quarter.

2008-03-24T17:49:00.005-05:00

So, after yesterday's WHAT THE FUCK, LIFE?! I decided to really let today just be a new day.

I had PT today and have been spending most of the day dealing with bills (oh my god don't ever tear your ACL. I'm worth more dead than alive.) Exel spread sheets (my dad taught me some great tricks on that program), budgeting for the show, and trying to get some work done that I've been putting off for weeks.
I want to be able to do a lot of apartment stuff tomorrow. It's my birthday, I should be able to spend it doing fun stuff. I keep getting people who don't believe how old I am when I tell them that it's my "golden birthday tomorrow!" (Ok guess how old I am) One of the interns at physical therapy didn't believe me. WHAT?!! One of the girls said. Really?!?! Somone else thought I was in my teens the other day. I guess I'm lucky that I have nice skin or something. Or that I'm short and chubby. Grr.

I successfully trained my first client this morning. No one died, he sweated a lot, and I think I was a little shy but the confidence with that will come with time. I think i'm going to enjoy that job...assuming I can get a little more of a "regular" schedule with them.

My body had a fight or flight response in PT today.
We were working on the layingonyourstomachbendingyourlegtotouchyourheeltoyourbutt stretch that made me cry a few weeks ago...and the hamstring stuff just fucking hurts so much...and I consider myself to have pretty high pain tolerance, but my therapist was really pushing it today and she got to that point when you're stretching where it starts to feel really hot and uncomfortable and OhMyGodICan'tBreatheDangerDangerABORTABORTStopOHStop! And then your muscles tense up and the comment she made was "wow...your heart is racing...I can feel it behind your leg!" But she kept at it and quietly encouraged me to relax and quickly started asking me questions to destract me. And you know what? It actually sort of worked. Funny how well your brain can multi-task but the pain center and the Try-And-Remember-What-You-Did-This-Weekend must be in a similar area of the brain because once I started to try and remember the pain was less...well...insane. When I flipped over onto my back for the other bending stuff, it felt like I had just run a marathon. Literally. My legs were jello. So. Fucking. Weird.

We got past the BodyWantsToJumpThroughPlateGlassWindowInFrontOfMe stage and I felt things just stretch instead of ohGod. It still hurt, but it was a managable hurt. Mostly. JesusH. But I'm about 3 inches away from my heel touching my butt. With a lot of help. And a lot of pain. Still quite a ways to go. But it's something.

What a strange place to be [strike] I didn't think I'd be spending my [strike] My birthdays have been so radically different from each other for the past few years. [strike]
hmm. no. I think that last one is right.

My birthdays have been so radically different from each other for the past few years.

So I have a question. When I turn 25, does my ACL turn 32? (Remember, the graft--that whole "31 year old female thing...) Is the ACL's birthday on the day of surgery? Should I really not worry about it?

Organize Life.

2008-03-23T18:12:00.003-05:00

My hamstring still hurts like a mother fucker. Excuse the language, but now that a lot of the "surgery" stuff seems to be healing, I can sort of pin-point where the actual pain is. (No, I didn't get the hamstring graft, I got a doner graft...so the hamstring should not have been touched.)

I don't know if it's from the original injury or if it's at the attachment point on the fibula and just radiating up or what the fuck is going on, but it's really getting on my nerves. It's the kind of dull aching annoying pain that makes you [want to? no. it's made me.] cry after a while because it JUST ISN'T GETTING BETTER and I tried to put cans in a low cabinet in my apartment today and I CAN'T SQUAT DOWN GODDAMNIT.

I keep thinking that organizing my clothes, or my desk, or my closets, or my kitchen will make me feel better. But it's not working today.

I felt like a total moron trying to get ads placed for the show I'm producing and there's nothing I can do about it today because it's easter sunday. And the Container Store was closed so I couldn't finish my organizing, so THANKS A LOT CONTAINER STORE.

I had an awesome day yesterday...it was like grad school again. Got up at 6, did theatre from 9-4...grabbed some dinner...and saw a show at 8 and got home at 11. JUST like grad school. And theatre all day. I'll write about that more when it won't be overshadowed by AARRRRGG WHAT THE FUCK LIFE?!?

ChChChChanges.

2008-03-17T22:53:00.003-05:00

I guess not really too many Changes, but tomorrow it'll be 1 month post op. Swear to God it feels like years. I think I've forgotten the meaning of the word "cardio" or "sweat".

Oh. Today physical therapy was awesome. Like, my leg is starting to feel like an almost correctly functioning leg. Like the muscles want to do the right thing. They're just thinking about it. But it felt like they were at least trying to see it my way today. So that was nice. WOMBATS told me 140. So, cool, right? A few more degrees this week and then I need to work on getting to the 145 WITHOUT "warming up to it" for an hour. Yeah. That'll be nice. I got on the bike today and rode it for 13 minutes and 30 seconds. At like, an actual quick pace...usually it takes a little while to even get the stupid thing to register that someone's riding it...but today it actually felt sort of good. It was a very good day at PT. Except for that damn hamstring tendon thing. A pox on it!

I painted The Little Apartment That Could yesterday (really? yesterday? holy crap it feels like last week) and probably was up on my feet for way too long. (and standing on chairs and bending and stretching so let's keep that between you and me and not tell my PT Mkay?) Then today after my session I went and lugged a bunch of books up 2 flights of stairs. It took awhile. And my knee sort of hurts like a bitch right now. So, oops. But I also worked it a lot at PT, so it's probably not totally from carrying books. I think I'll take a rest from lugging tomorrow and having someone else do my bidding.

I had my first session with a new personal training client today. I'm too sleepy to go into details, but I will just say that I'm shocked at how warped my perception of "active" is. In my life, being "active" means doing aerial training 5-6 days a week, going to the gym in addition to that at least 4 days, and trying to walk/ride my bike/do pullups on my door bar as much as possible. For my client today, "active" sounds like a half hour session, two days a week. And no exercising on her own.
.
.
.
It just sort of blows my mind.
.
.
.
Anyways.

I wish I had the energy to write. Maybe tomorrow. I don't have clients until the afternoon, for any of the various jobs I'm working.

What They Don't Tell You.

2008-03-12T13:04:00.008-05:00

The WOMBATS told me that I'm up to 131 degrees. I should be ecstatic. Should be. But what they don't tell you about "getting your range of motion back" is that it doesn't really include getting the strength back, the flexibility back, and the OwPleaseStopPullingSoMuchWhat'sHappening feeling leaving any time soon. So, laying on my back, I can pull my own leg up (using just my battered hamstring) to about 126. Then I can pull it (semi-comfortably [though the word "comfortable" has a whole new meaning to me at the moment]) using my hands or scooting down towards it and today was at 131, with only mild STOPMkayTHANKS feelings. But how is that practical? I do mini-squats and my goddamn quad shakes like it's made of fucking jello or something. And my body looks like jello at the moment too, which I'm also not pleased about.

I can sort of walk properly (if I really work on BendHeelToeBendHeelToe), it kind of tries to hyper extend at certain moments, the hamstring attachment (that's the really hurty place that was inhibiting a lot of the bend last week) is still really irritated but now that they're sure that's what it is, Amy did some massage on it and that helped a Ton. There's a lot of pulling on the bottom of my quad, where one of the scars is. My chiropractor "talked" to my knee (no, seriously, I actually believe that he did. He also made some of the swelling go down somehow.) and said that "it's really bruised up...and really beaten up....but they did a really good job." Jesus H. Christ I hope it's true. And even if it's not, I just need to believe him anyways.

I have to go take a software proficiency test to be in the "temp" pool for The University that I'd like to get some part time hours out of. You know the other thing they don't tell you? They don't tell you that your MFA doesn't mean anything if you don't know how to make an Excel document. Sad, huh. Hopefully I'll know enough for the test. I got a part time position as a personal trainer (which I'd rather do SO MUCH MORE than temping) at a small clinic which I'm really excited about. I start that next week I think.

My brain is still foggy, I usually know what day it is but the fact that I have PT on M, W, F and I already had it once this week helps me to remember that "oh, it must be Wednesday." I can't remember times of appointments that I made or what I need to do today or tomorrow or how long I slept or anything. Hormones or the last dregs of vicodin leaving my system. Who knows.

So what do you do when someone asks you what you want for your birthday and really the only answer is "my old normal life back".

Great now I'm crying.

I guess some stuff for my new apartment would be nice too. That answer scares people away a little bit less.

Here are pictures from today, 3 weeks (actually, 3 weeks and 1 day) after ACL surgery. It doesn't even look like anything fucking happened. I've had rope burns 10 times worse that the stupid like scratches on my leg. Lame. I wish it felt as good on the inside as it looks on the outside (except for the pale fatty thing going on. Ignore that.)

In the photo below, the little diagonal mark above my knee cap is the place that pulls a lot. Methinks that's where they had to go through the muscle to get to bone and crap. But who the hell knows. It's still a bit swollen. The 2 little up and down marks (actually they're all "X"s but the cross part healed completely already) are right on the sides/on the knee cap. So yeah. Still sort of swollen up on that QuadBump.

The Breakup.

2008-03-10T12:06:00.008-05:00

I lost my boyfriend today. He was just rented. A temporary. If I had a lot of money I'd buy one and get married. Sadness, I know. But he'll keep some other girl (or guy [?]) company after their leg surgery. Oh how I'll miss his freezing cold hugs, his soft outer layer, his medium pressure massage setting, and the soft purr lulling me away for an hour at a time. Hopefully, I'll never have to see him again (even though I loved him so.) (The link doesn't have a photo of the actual cuff part of the thing. Just the "body" of it, so to speak. It has a long black tube [I should quit while I'm ahead] attached to a big rectangular thing. You can look it up if you'd like.)

123 today. As Amy says "it's gettin' there". The Bend of 2008 is getting harder the closer I get to "full ROM". Full my ass. Until I can hang by one leg again and bring my heel to my butt there's going to be no talk of "full" anything. ::sings the Trying To Stay Positive song:: (whatever that may be.) It's so weird. I felt like today it was bending so much farther. Meh. I started on the stationary bike today. That was weird and cool. I couldn't put it on a setting and I had to pedal so slowly that it kept on "pausing" itself and then re-setting. SCREW YOU YOU STUPID BIKE STOP ASSUMING SHIT ABOUT WHO'S SITTING ON YOU! YOU DON'T KNOW!!
Dumb bike. It doesn't know.

Last pieces of steri-strips got to come off today. The ones covering the "biggest" incision. It's the one with the dissolvable stitches (which I think are dissolved!) right below and to the inside corner of my knee. So crazy. ACL scars (and some are still like this apparently) use to leave you with a huge like, 5-6 inch long line down the middle of your knee. I could care less about scars, but it's interesting what they can do with all this "modern medicine".

Hoping for 130 or better for Wednesday. *fingers crossed*. My nurse cat just climbed into my lap, and I'm not even sitting in my bed. She's the greatest.

One Twenty.

2008-03-07T14:11:00.003-06:00

What's UP 120 degrees today!! Right on target (our goal this week, literally, was 120 degrees.)

Next week and a half I need to get to between 140-150. 145-150 would be total full range. Yikes. I guess it makes sense that every day feels like it goes to the "maximum". Because technically, it does. Just need to keep increasing the maximum, I guess.

I had an audition this morning for a military industrial film (think long commercial) where I had to play a clerk at a car place explaining the need for "extra focus while driving oversees". The script was so corney, but it was fun to do an on-camera. I don't get a lot of those.

I hate to admit it, but let's talk about America's Next Dance Crew for just a second. Uh, srsly? It's so good. I hate generally hate reality TV (like, I won't watch "Idol" or Big Bullshit...err...Brother or anything like that) but, as one of the hosts would say, "lyke, fa'reeel, ya'juss sick'n'fly. ya's haat." I'm rooting for Kaba Modern. I'm sure they're on YouTube. You should check them out.

Anyway. Knee Watch 2008 continues.

Movie Moments.

2008-03-05T12:48:00.002-06:00

Amy kicked my ass today. But I got to try walking without the immobilizer on, so that was sort of exciting. (strike that. it wasn't actually exciting) a step in the right direction. Then she used this torture device (it wasn't really...but it looked like one) called Ruissian Stim (stimulation) that used electrical impulses to contract my quad. Every time it contracted I had to flex my quad along with it. It's retraining the muscle to work properly, aparently. It felt like little creatures made of brillo pads trying to survive an earthquake on my skin. (Wow. Now there's a description for you.) It felt sort of weird/tickley/strange/not entirely pleasant but more confusingcouldn'treallyputmyfingeronitsocouldn'tdecideifithurtbutreallydidn't type of feeling.

We did a lot of bending stuff as usual. I need to get up to 120 degrees this week. Today I was at 112. Up 4 measley degrees from Monday. I guess it's better than staying the same or going down. It's coming along. She's very encouraging. She did some lottastretching of it today. Eeep. And Ouch.

I had forgotten my new sheet with a new set of exercises upstairs as I was getting into the car, so my mom ran up to get them for me. While I was sitting alone in the back seat (sideways, stupid immobilizer) I saw a shoelace sticking out of the back pocket of the seat next to me. I pulled on it and it was one of my old pairs of circus boots (the right foot, how ironic.)

I just sort of stared at it for a few minutes. Can't say I saw my life flash before my eyes because that would be entirely too melodramatic, but I did get the overwhelming image of everything I've ever put my (specifically) right leg through...very sort of movie-esque. Which is a slightly less dramatic way of saying it but not really.

I always have a sound track going in my head...I thought that everyone must until I one day mentioned it to someone and they used the words "crazy" and "goofball" and "what kinda" strung together in some sort of sentence but I don't really remember what it was because that song "Kryptonite" started playing. You know, the 3 Doors Down one. Anyway.

When I was looking at this shoe, I thought I'd hear "Turn Turn Turn" or something corney as hell like that. But I didn't really hear anything. Just sort of like...a breeze. Light wind. Maybe it's the vicodin. Maybe I'm tired. Maybe the moment was cinematic and full of enough dramatic irony and didn't need anything else to punctuate it.

At least I can trust my brain to not get too sappy on me.

Day 13.

2008-03-03T21:22:00.002-06:00

Lucky 13. Or something.

108 degrees on the bend today.

I'm so over this damn immobilizer. I want to be able to drive again. I feel completely useless and leach-like. I want to relax. I don't feel like I really can.

Trying to have a good attitude. Trying to not be discouraged.

Trying.

Almost 2 Weeks.

2008-03-02T12:52:00.003-06:00

It doesn't feel like it, but it's only been Almost 2 Weeks since Gnometenna Removal 2008. It feels like months. Feb 19th. It's now March 2nd. March. When the fuck did that happen?! Yeah. 12 days ago. That makes no sense to my poor brain.

Got out of the house last nigth with Auntie and Uncle, so that was really nice. Wore clothes that weren't sweat pants and felt a little bit more like a functioning member of society. Uncle used his built in gnomeometer skills and said that my bend is probably around 98 degrees. Cool. Small improvements. Though this morning I felt all tight and tired and there's this one spot that just hurts. I want to know what it is. Is is where the graft is attached? Is it the bone bruise? Is it a bumped hamstring tendon? What?!!? I wish I had X-Ray vision.

I got a package of awesome stuff from a friend in Cambridge, UK yesterday. Really made my day.

I'm sort of (*snort*. "sort of". right. how about "Big Time") in a cranky mood today. Exercises were difficult this morning and I'm worried about work (and the lack of doing it), I feel totally and completely Outta Sight Outta Mind with some important people in my life (though I've talked to a few people that I didn't expect to hear from, so that was nice), I can't drive anywhere (though honestly where would I go), and this rehab/recovery is feeling less and less "temporary" as the days go by. I know it is temporary, but I have all sorts of horrible feelings float in every so often of ohshitwhatifthisisn'ttemporaryican'tseetheforrestdangerdangerdanger. I just need a lot of encouragement I think. Maybe I haven't told people exactly how much I need. Maybe I should do that. Oh how I wish people could read my mind. I feel silly wishing that I would get hundreds (ok not hundreds.) of calls every day from people just checking in. "You're doing great" "Thinking about you" "Etc. Etc." Fact of the matter is I have had some of these calls which, again, is really nice. On Cranky Days the people who aren't around seem to push their way into my mind more. Unfortunately.

I love my theracane but it is not making my upper back feel much better. I feel like my shoulderblades are covered in rocks. I'm super thirsty but don't really want to drink anything, sort of hungry but I think I might just be bored, feel like I want to just go RUNNING but we know that that's not going to happen for a while, sort of on the edge of tears but "what's the point"...maybe a small case of the stir-crazies are setting in.

Maybe I'll start reading that book Kiersten sent. Though I'm not going to get paid for doing that. I never thought I'd say that I really wish I could drive into work today.

Note To Self.

2008-02-28T16:50:00.003-06:00

Note To Self:

For fuck's sake, take some pain medicine before you do your phyiscal therapy! It helps so much!

Love, Sarah

The Little Black Raincloud has lifted a little today. A little grumbly still, but hey, my right leg doesn't work right. So I'm allowed to grumble. *grumble grumble*. Ok I'm done.

I changed my own ice machine today (look mommy I can dress myself! sheesh.) so that was cool. My first PT of the day was hard, and I was frustrated. My second PT of the day was after I hadn't iced in about 2 hours (so my leg was a physically warmer) and I had some medicine in my system. It was so much better. I could hardly believe the difference. There were a few factors at play, but the bending was a breath-throughable pain rather than an OK STOP MkAY NOW. I think on my second session I got farther than 91 degrees. But I don't have a Gnomeometer to tell me.

I've been experiementing with what 1/2 a pill feels like, what 1 pill feels like, and what 2 are like. I have come to the following conclusion:
1/2 takes the edge off, and makes it sore instead of eh...stabby? Throbby? It's hard to describe.
1 makes it not hurt, makes PT a lot easier, and only sort of makes me forget what day it is.
2 makes my body float away, my brain in need of a sweater shaver, and very very sleepy.

It's nice, because last week, 2 took the edge off and made me forget what day it was. Not a good combo, if you ask me. Ignorance was a little bit bliss last week as far as not knowing where I needed to get to or the difficulty behind it, but at least now I know and the progress has started.

I'm excited for the next few days to work on my own on the Bend and then see where I'm at on Monday. A friend of mine called today to check in and said she'd bring me to rehearsal on Sunday if I was up for it. I thought that was very sweet of her.

Maybe I should paint a little bit tonight.

A Few Minutes.

2008-02-27T23:56:00.003-06:00

I need to observe a few minutes of "bad attitude" or "self pity".

[attitude] Oww. My Life. [/ attitude]

We now return to our regularly scheduled program.

Our Hero Takes A Shower. edited

2008-02-27T13:47:00.003-06:00

Edit to add: The WOMBATS told me that I bent to 91 degrees today! Woot! (Yeah, it hurt, and took some warming up to get there. Not gunna lie.) Continuing to our regularly scheduled program:

In this episode, we join our hero after she's taken a shower and gotten more than just the top of her head wet (mom helped me wash my hair with the doggie shower attachment last week) for the first time since Gnome Removal Day 2008 (last Tuesday).

It was nice, and sort of weird to stand there without the immobilizer on. (Every time I type that word I think of a baby's mobile that sings little songs and spins around and around.) I couldn't bend my leg enough to clear the side of the tub so there was a lot of like, swinging it over and trying not to kill myself. I never imagined how useful those little shower and bathroom bar things were/could be until I actually thought "hey, this would be a lot easier with one of those shower bar things."
I also got all upset during said shower because my right calf does look considerably smaller, in just 1 week.. I haven't noticed it because I've only seen it sitting down straight out in front of me sort of smushed on the ground (which makes both look bigger anyways). Out of the immobilizer is was weird to see. I secretly really love my calf muscles. I know it'll come back (along with the definition in my quad) but it was just...weird. I pride myself on really knowing my body and it's been a strange week trying to like, learn a new language. It's my body, I get that...very little has changed...but I feel like it sort of got a crash course in some secret code that I was asleep for. Quite literally, asleep for. I'll learn it. And do a lot of calf raises when I can.

PT in a few. I should put on something besides shorts and a t-shirt. I wish it would stop being so damn cold outside.

Oops.

2008-02-26T22:04:00.002-06:00

as I just wrote to my Uncle:

ugh. note to self:

Don't go to physical therapy, go to lunch with sister, visit someone at the hospital, go home and do your second round of physical therapy on your own, go up and down the stairs a few times to "do things for yourself" and then wonder, at 8:00pm why your leg hurts, and then realize that you haven't taken any medicine since 1:15 that afternoon. Oops.

I'm going to catch a double ride on the V Train travel off to dream land, if you catch my drift.

Blarg.

Physical Therapy, Day 1.

2008-02-26T16:13:00.007-06:00

Alternately Titled: I'm a Rock Star. My PT Says So. That's Right. Bow To Me. *Guitar Solo*

So. My fears that I had going into physical therapy and how they were qualmed. Qualmed? What the fuck am I talking about. Calmed. Yeah. No, I really am on LESS vicodin then before. Sigh.

Ok.

Fear #1: my knee would have a permanent small bend in it from a too tight ACL graft or that I've somehow been sitting wrong for the past seven days.

Calmed By: Therapist (Amy. Her name is Amy. And it's easier to type) Amy measuring my knee with this clear circle measurey thing that tells you how many degrees your leg straightens or bends, which I shall call the Wheel of Measurements, Betterment, And Telling Stuff..or WOMBATS...where was I? Oh yes. The WOMBATS.

Amy said that the WOMBATS indicated that the injured leg was at a +1. And the other was at a like, +2.5 or something. In non-PT speak, that means my legs still have their super flexible hyper-extension thing goin' on. So. No worries there.

Fear #2: I would be a pathetic little weakling who couldn't do any of the exercises.

Calmed By: Amy going through said exercises (ok. I'm not going to lie. Bending it still REALLY FUCKING SUCKS OUCH OWW STOP PLEASE MkTHANKS.) (Actually what I think I *actually* said was "Hmm. Yeah. That's intense." [very calmly with a little smile on my face.]) and she got to the one where you put a little towel roll under your knee, press into it, flex your foot, and lift your leg keeping it straight and said "now, this one will probably be the hardest." My leg lifted right up. No problem. This is when she called me a "rockstar" and told the assistant who was shadowing her that "this is not the typical ACL case you will work on." That's right. I'm Not Typical. Hear that?! Take that...um...people who ever said I was...um...typical. ?

Fear #3: Getting the full (strong) bend back.

Calmed by: Learning an exercise that is specifically for bending it, WITHOUT using my leg muscles (using a strap and my upper body) which is a lot easier, right now. The WOMBATS said I was at about 62 degrees on my own, and at the end of these exercises I was at about 78. So that's great for the first day! (My left leg is at 145. Just to give you an idea of where I need to go. *hangs head*.) She said that we have "2-3 weeks before we get worried" about the full bend coming back. She said the more I do the (hated) bending exercises at home, the better it'll be. Despite the hatings (ok ok. Not hatings. They're just the ones that hurt.) I shall get right on it.

Fear #4: Rehabbing back to "normal" will take a lot longer than I want and will never get back to 100%.

Calmed By: This was slightly less calmed today, because she said that my personal biggest problem would probably be taking my time with actually getting better as opposed to feeling better. But the "calmed" part is that she is a former gymnast and understands where I need to get to. She even said that in a few weeks (like 4 or 5) we can go to my gym (aka, where I train circus stuff) and she can do some stuff with me there. I thought that was like, the coolest offer ever. This *is* going to take time. But thankfully it's time that I have. I'm not going anywhere.

Oh, and the other cool part about PT was that I learned how to use a new setting on my Boyfriend. There's a "pressure" setting where it sort of acts like a blood pressure cuff that squeezes and releases and feels UH-MAZING. And at the end of the session she put my leg into a Boyfriend machine (they had one just like mine! He's a clone!!) and then up on this little leggie-ski-slope thing that elevated it. Again. Awesome. I made a make-shift elevation device when I got home out of pillows and a book, but it didn't work as well.

Oh well. Good thing I get to go there 3 times a week for a little while.

Stitch Removal of 2008.

2008-02-25T14:36:00.005-06:00

Was really not as gross as I thought it'd be. The big Blotch Of Doom (see photos) below my knee cap was the biggest incision, aparently, and that one is closed by (clear!) dissolveable thread. The black ones took a little snip'n'pull and gone they were. I thought I'd be able to feel them tugging and ripping but sort of just felt...uh...let's see here...you know when you're flossing and instead of pulling the floss back up, you sort of slide it through the front? Does that make sense? That's how it felt. But the thread was short, so by the time is started to gross me out a little it was over.

I also learned that thanks to my freakishly short legs I was wearing the immobilizer too low. It's literally suppose to like, nearly be all up in my crotch (sorry. but it is.) and my knee should be in the "middle" of the brace. Ah. Yes. That feels much better. Thanks for that tip a week later, doc. (to be fair, I really haven't walked around too much, so it almost hasn't mattered.)

I could lift my leg and touch his hand with it fully straight, which a lot of people can't do apparently...and they were all impressed that I "peg legged" in sans crutches. The X-Ray Tech said that a lot of people just don't do anything after surgery and get all mopey and lazy and it hinders their recovery. They said it was good that I was "stubborn and feisty".

It's hard to hear the amount of time that I need to wear the immobilizer for, but it's only actually a few weeks. That sounds like a long time to me. But I guess it's really not. Doc said I'll "start to feel really really good in 4 weeks or less but need to still be really careful". I know. I KNOW. i know.

They said I probably wouldn't be driving for 4-6 weeks (since it's my right leg. as Winnie the Pooh would say, "OH BOTHER".). I'm estimating 2 week. I think it's reasonable, considering I can already almost bend my leg enough to do it. Their main concern is that it's a "strong and reflexive" bend and that I'm no longer on any pain medication. Considering I've only taken 1 and a half vicodin today (GO ME!!), I think the latter will be less of the problem. Not going to lie, being up and about for a really long time this morning started to irritate my leg...but it wasn't a like...shooting pain. So that was an improvement. Yeah, and, Ok. Bending it sucks. Not even like, inside the joint...but along the side... But that's what Physical Therapy is for. Which starts tomorrow.

James and a friend of his came over again last night and brought Mango and this Mixed Berry/Lemon sorbet. Oh man it was so good. James wins the award for "Most Supportive Person, Non-Family" Catagory. We figured out that we've known each other for 10 years. Weird. Doesn't feel like that long.

Yesterday (I think it was yesterday) I got all upset about that I couldn't "do anything for myself". Just like, suddenly really like, hot under the collar frustrated that I couldn't change the temp on my Boyfriend Ice Machine or make dinner for myself. I'm sure I'll feel like that again from time to time, especially once I actually start feeling better to the point of semi-being able to do stuff. Slow and steady wins the race with this one...I know.

But what they don't know...is this turtle can run on her hands. (And spent a month building her quad strength before they went in and messed with it.)

As usual this week, trying to stay optimistic. Not always easy, but the other option is being a Mopey McMoperson. And that only makes me more miserable.

Oh and P.S., the Doc explained the pictures to me. There was a tiny cartillage tear that they just cleaned up and didn't really need to fix. But the whole idea that the ACL was "partially" torn? Yeah. Um, my ACL was gone. Nothin'. Nada. A few lonely strands of what looked like Barbie Hair floatin' around. Scary shit, right?

I'm glad I got it fixed. (Remind me of this tomorrow after I'm crying about how hard and frustrating physical therapy is.)

If I actually do have to wear this immobilizer for a full 4 weeks, I'll be taking it off exactly 1 month from today. What an awesome birthday present that'll be.

Official Day 7. (actually, day 6. Thanks Vicodin.)

2008-02-24T15:35:00.005-06:00

It doesn't feel like a week has gone by, but I guess that's the point of taking narcotic painkillers. (Which are highly unpredictable and work great sometimes and not great other times. Hmpf.)

I'm finding myself very sensitive to smells today. I generally am, but something was being painted in the basement and it's wafted up to the top floor of the house and I feel like my head is going to explode. Ugh. I'm trying not to be frustrated by it. They didn't know it would be so "fumey".

I slept for shit last night, which was the first night that that's happened. I suddenly got all hot and uncomfortable and my Franken McStitchersons were itching and I just couldn't fall asleep. Even with the vicodin. I ended up writing a sort of brilliant multi page e-mail to a friend, so that was cool. But TheNotSleeping wasn't. I put in a bad horror movie, which usually really helps, but instead it just sort of kept me awake and the sounds and light from the TV were pissing me off. I've watched way less movies than I thought I would this week.

I woke up around 7am and tried to be productive. Set up a ticket account for the show I'm producing, returned some e-mails...and then around 8:30 I got hit with the tired stick. Like, not a gentle tap. A full on STICKTOTHEFACE and passed out until about 12:30lunchtime. Then I was awake and alert, then tired and floaty again. I did my exercises (quad stuff, bending stuff, stretching stuff) and felt a little more awake, but needed to lay down again because they wore me out. Sad. I know. The bending exercises suck. And feel weird. Hopefully it'll suck and feel LESS weird after my leg stops immitating a garment on Project Runway.

Could you imagine? Tim Gunn all "Designers (pause), we have (pause) a suprise for you. Your next challenge (pause) is to create a piece using Sarah's Healing Leg as your canvas. You have 10 minutes before the wounds start bleeding uncontrolably. Ohkay...make it work!"

Too bad Santino isn't on the show again. He'd probably like, sew a whole new leg onto the existing one and paint it purple or something. It sort of looks like Christian (from this season) did the stitching...the thread is black...and that's the only color he seems to design with. (oh, SNAP! but seriously, I actually like his designs) I'd probably have to chose Jillian to do it...she'd probably do a perfect job and match my skin tone but add a little whimsey like an embroidered celtic knot or something.

The bruise on my shin is turning more purple, and while I'm excited to get the stitches out and see the doc, I've also never HAD stitches before...so I don't really know what to expect. Hopefully I'll come back here and tell you that I didn't even notice them doing anything and that I got all nervous for nothing. Yeah. That'll be nice.

I'm feeling a little down today. Not sure why. I think it's a combination of being both excited and unsure of how the next week will play out. I feel like I suddenly will have to JUST START DOING THINGS RIGHT NOW GO GO GO again and I think I need people to tell me that life is going to just look different and not "completely" normal for a few more weeks. I just need permission to live in that.

Aww. Here comes my nurse. (Cassie-Moo cow cat) She always makes me feel better.
A friend of mine came over last night and we made a big pillow fort on my bed and watched Bend It Like Beckham. It was one of those movies that I wouldn't be caught dead even thinking about renting, but honestly, even though it was the prime example of a "feel good" movie, I really enjoyed it...some of the dialogue was even snappy and clever at times. Though let's be honest. Kira Knightly (Skinny McWaifsalot from the Pirates movies) doesn't look like a soccer player. In fact, it looks like if she tried to run down a soccer field, she might collapse or fall through one of the holes in the goal net.

I'm just sayin'.

Note To Self.

2008-02-23T15:41:00.003-06:00

Note To Self:

I have some pretty fucking amazing friends.

Love, Sarah

P.S. And Family.

Snacks. Does a Body Good.

2008-02-23T13:48:00.003-06:00

Ok. Let's talk about the yummiest snacks for ACL Soothingness. (I seem to be making up words left and right.)

Firstly, lets discuss "Frozen Protein Pudding". Or, "Open Up THIS Can of Whoop-Ass, Jello, Because My Pudding Pops Trump ALL".

First, a Magic Bullet blender is helpful because the baby blender cup is the perfect size. If not, I'll deal. Or rather, YOU will deal.

3 regular sized ice cubes into the cup. Add 1/3 cup of cold skim milk. Blend until smooth. There will be loud sounds. It's ok.

Add 2 tablespoons of instant (oh man, make sure it's the Instant kind) chocolate pudding powder and 2 scoops (or whatever the serving size of your protein mix is) of chocolate whey protein. I've never tried this concoction with soy but I'm sure it'd work too.

Put the blender lid back on (a simple yet critical step) and blend until it's a very light mocha color and it sounds smooth. Don't know what smooth sounds like? You'll know. Trust me. It'll "expand" and almost touch the top of the cup when it's ready.

You can eat it right then and there OR you could put a lid on it (heh. yeah. PUT A LID ON IT MISTER!) and freeze it for a few hours. I recommend this. Mmm. Proteiney goodness. *Homer drool sounds*

Also, bites of these things topped with slices of banana seriously taste like some sort of cookie pie amazingness. Again, highly recommended and many less steps involved. Unless you're a cat. Then you couldn't open the wrapper because you don't have thumbs. I think the vicodin is kicking in again.

Improvements.

2008-02-23T10:03:00.003-06:00

So I thought I'd be a hero this morning when I woke up and there was only a dull ache in my leg (as opposed to the throbbing shooting pain of the other mornings that I'd woken up with V to the Max worn off) so I got up and hobbled downstairs to attempt to make my own breakfast. Well, pretty much as soon as I set wrapped bruised foot in the kitchen, my quad tried to escape. Oh well. At least I made it down there. But the meds lasted for longer (or, the pain a little less bad, probably both) seeing as how I had taken 2 at 5:00, and woke up at 9:30. That's a half hour more than yesterday! That's great! Little improvements!

Time to put the boyfriend on and get my quad to stop trying to escape.

Semi-Graphic Knee Pictures Ahead.

2008-02-22T13:24:00.005-06:00

Ok. Scroll down to see pictures of the Gnometenna Removal Site. In retrospect, it's a little more gross than I remember, but it's not the worst thing I've ever seen posted on the internet.

Mom helped me wash my hair today using the doggie shower attachment thing. I don't know why Vinnie doesn't like baths, it really felt quite nice. I sat on an ottoman next to the tub with my leg up on a chair and sort of had to hold my neck up over the tub. A neck and abs workout. (Not so much with the abs. It was really quite easy.)

I'm getting better at the MiddleOftheNight pain management. (kept a banana next to my bed, my body oh-so-smartly woke me up at 4:30, 20 minutes before the stuff was going to wear off...I ate some banana, popped some V to the Max, and fell back asleep.) I'm still less good at the waking up in the morning and the OhManIt'sAllWornOffHolyCrap time. This morning it was my hamstring and quad again. Felt like they were at war. With my body. Trying to escape. Good thing I have strong skin to keep them in.

The stitches site (which I saw from the picture, there are more than I thought...I must've blocked it out while Changing of the Dressings was happening) sort of burns and tingles today. I'll be happy when they take 'em out on Monday. Then hopefully I'll be able to bend it without feeling like Frankenstein.

I was sad to have missed rehearsal last night. Just being there is really healing and positive for me. Feeling useful does wonders for my spirit.

My friend Emily (who's also in the aerial company) called me from Florida this morning. Not going to lie, it made me cry to hear from her. This damn injury must've broken my ThickSkinSwallowYourFeelings button. Which is guess isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Cassie-Moo's ESP is starting to creep me out a little bit. Every time I get even slightly upset or start to be in pain, there she comes, trotting up the stairs and jumps onto my bed and curls up by my knee. It's amazing and creepy. But mostly amazing.

Oh, and I found a comfortable sleeping position last night. So maybe I'll take a picture of my HallofthePillowMountianKing (bohm boh bohm boh bum bum bum! bum bum bum! bum bum bum!)

Ok. Pictures below. See...it really happened. No lies. (Clicking on them makes them full screen big. You've been warned.)

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Original last layer of dressings. Look! It's really not too swollen, right?!? (Ok, it is a little bit)

A portrait of the Gnome!! (Bloody gauze pads on left side for horror film effect)

I should've been a doctor. Total pro re-wrapping job. (And Vinnie helped.)

The Twitch of 2008.

2008-02-21T22:35:00.003-06:00

Ok. So.
When you're starting to doze off in front of a movie, try really really hard not to twitch (you know, the "falling asleep twitch".) Because I don't think that it was my right leg that actually did all the moving, but it certainly moved with the rest of my body. And Holy Shit. After taking such careful care on how quickly I've been moving it (aka, turtle pace)...the Twitch of 2008 pretty much made any and all vicodin that was attempting to work instantly wear off. Joy.

My hamstring and quad has really been sore today. They told me it would happen. I don't understand the mechanics. I believed them, I was just thinking "maybe it won't if it hasn't by now." Well, today was the now. Actually to remember correctly I seem to think that I complained about my hamstring as I was waking up in recovery. Like...a tiny little section of it. (No, didn't get the hammy graft...it just hurt for whatever reason.)

After the drugs magically stopped working from the Twitch of 2008, I was sort of squirmy and teary and my mom came in to help me put on my boyfriend to make it feel better. She had sent me an e-mail with funny cat and puppy pictures in silly sleeping positions. I instantly logged in to http://icanhascheezburger.com and we laughed and laughed. I'm telling you, it was better than vicodin. Srysly.

Immobilizer Lesson.

2008-02-21T16:07:00.003-06:00

How to pee with a leg immobilizer on. Part 1.

Step 1.
Cut a hole in the box.

Step 2.
Put your junk in the box.

heh heh. just kidding.

The trick to sitting down with the LegStraightener2000 on is as follows:

Sit all the way back onto the seat and try to get the behind-the-leg metal bar thing up on the rim. Then, with both hands, grab onto the side metal things (one hand on each) and pull up. The combination of downward pressure on the back metal piece and upward pressure from pulling at the sides will make your leg feel nice and supported.

And if you're a guy, you get to stand up. So fuck you.

HA!

Don't tell my doctor, but I did some pullups on my pullup bar today. Actually. Go ahead and tell him. Because I didn't use my leg for those. I mostly needed to stretch my back and shoulders. Yipes the back muscles get all tense and weird from sittin' in bed all day. I don't know how couch potatos do it.

Changing of the Guard.

2008-02-21T11:19:00.004-06:00

And by Guard I mean Dressings.

Hey! Hey! Guess what?!! Changing the dressings weren't as bad as I thought it'd be! Yayy!! And the doc even drew a smiley face on my knee for me to find. That sort of made my day. I took more V to the Max at 5:30am, and fell asleep again until about 9:30...so that was nice.

The thing was was creepy about the Unvailing was being able to see the stitches. That really was pretty gross. It was funny, the big sort of nasty WowThatSiteHasBeenBleedingABit part was less painful than the little tiny strip near the top at my quad. Weird. This is all very interesting. I really wasn't as bruised up and swollen as I thought I'd be. it sort of looks like someone kicked me in the shin and the area around my knee cap is sort of puffy, but it really was pretty ok. So that's great. As far as I can tell, I'm able to completely straighten my leg, so that's awesome too. The pain meds really help as far as completeing the exercises. I should try bending it a bunch today.

What else...
I was thinking of posting a picture...I don't think it's too gross. I think I might.
More later, I guess.

Natural Alarm Clock.

2008-02-21T05:24:00.002-06:00

So vicodin wearing off (after taking a full dose before bed) is a natural alarm clock. Good to know. and Ouch.

I have to change the dressing today, which I'm not really looking forward to. I'm ok with blood and bruises and things, but stiches freak me out. Gross man.

Well I just took more pain stuff and toast so hopefully it'll kick in shortly and I'll fall back asleep for a little while.

My Auntie told me that my voice changed on the phone when the medicine kicked in. I guess I didn't realize how much it was working until it's not working anymore. I hope that I get to see more friends today. It helps to have people around. It's a nice destraction.

An Open Letter.

2008-02-20T10:18:00.004-06:00

Dear Natural Ovens Bread Company,

You have saved my life this morning. Your thick and chewy whole wheat bread stuck to my insides enough to survive the dry heaves (ew, sorry, TMI) and I'm now feeling so much better than a few hours ago.

I heart you and all of your grainey goodness.

Love, Sarah.

Tried to do some leg lifts, quad tightening thingies, and then sat on the edge of the bed and GENTLY (for the love of god GENTLY) tried to do some bending and straightening. Not going to lie, I got to about 70 degrees and started to cry. Because it hurt, and it's scary, and it felt "funny", and because I think I could feel the stitches pulling a little which freaked me the fuck out, and because I was happy that it at least bent that much. Honestly I was expecting it to be impossible.

Now that I don't feel like I'm going to pull an Exorcist all over the place, I should probably eat more of said Magic Toast and try to take a little bit of medicine. The exercises will be easier when things aren't throbbing in there.

I'm trying not to get nervous about the order in which I do things or if I'm doing everything "right" or whatever. I feel a little bit like the docs sort of just did and sent me home...maybe I don't remember some of the instructions. I guess I could always call the nurses or something.

Have to change the dressing tomorrow. As Shayna suggested, "it'll be like opening a present on X-Mas morning!" yeah. An oozing swollen bruised and nasty present. That's attached to your body. Where the hell did my tolerance for blood and gore go? Weird.

Time to put the Game Boy Boyfriend back on.

Here Comes the Sun.

2008-02-20T07:52:00.002-06:00

Or...actually...puke. Here comes the puke. And nausea. Actually, I don't really have anything to throw up in my system, so it's mostly just horrible fucking nausea. Note to self, eat if you're taking vicodin. But I did eat! (I thought) I had a whole 4 egg whites, a piece of toast, some cottage cheese and a few pieces of banana. Yeah. Not enough when you're poppin' the narcotics.

I've just managed to get 3/4 of a piece of toast down. It's sort of helping, but sort of also making me feel like I'm just giving my body something to get rid of. Maybe it'll stick.

I'd rather deal with a painful knee than nausea. I think I'll alternate the vicodin with something less barf-inducing. Nausea is the worst feeling, in my book.

Cassie-Moo slept at my side last night and comes in to check on me at least twice every hour, if she's not already in here. Cats are so damn smart I don't even understand it. She knows her mama doesn't feel good. She's awesome.

Breathing and getting rid of the nausea is first on the agenda this morning. Then Boyfriend Machine and then maybe some light ROM (range of motion) stuff.

Later That Day.

2008-02-19T21:37:00.003-06:00

Holy shit ya'll. Knee surgery is some serious biznis. Maybe I was overestimating my own pain tolerance, or underestimating how much knee surgery actually hurts (yeah yeah, they told me it would but I'm HARDCORE!!), but yeah. Holy shit. Vicodin seems to basically be taking the edge off, but not much else. The internal numbing stuff is definately wearing off (gradually getting higher and higher up my leg...first the shin hurt, then the sides of my knee, now the kneecap...I'm sort of dreading when the stuff around my femur wakes up) and while it's honestly very interesting how that's happening, it also hurts. A lot. And to be honest, it's probably a lot of the fact that it's not a familiar pain, so it's scary on top of things...and it's not a "Oh! Shit! I just ripped a blister on my hand! But look! It doesn't hurt anymore!"...rather a "Hmmm. That hurts...ow....that hurts more....ow....when's it going to stop hurting...uh....um....danger....danger....not good....not good....worse not better worsenotbetter" type of feeling. It sort of made me feel like the world was going to end. And not in a cool Hollywood disaster film type of way.

It's strange, I looked at so many photos of the inside of knees on ACL websites before I had this done...and I'm so totally into all that crazy interesting stuff...but a little while ago when I tried to look at my own photos (cool, I know!) it made me scared and nauseated and freak out just a little. But I was already crying so I guess it was ok. I think there's some relief in there too...just being able to see what was fixed.

So yeah, I sure did just spend 30 minutes crying and waiting for the drugs to kick back in. And they have, which makes the BlackRainCloudOfLegPain go away. I feel like keeping the emotional stress down as much as the physical stress is going to be really important, especially for how much I know I'm effected by both. I'm blaming all the crying on the general anesthesia. Or maybe I should stop appologizing for it. Yeah. No more. I'm going to cry all I want to.

Stay tuned as our fearless leader tries to sleep through the night.

The General is sitting on my desk, watching over me. So at least if I wake up with remnants of Gnome Bombs going off I'll have a quick laugh.

Gnometenna Removal Complete.

2008-02-19T14:44:00.004-06:00

Yay! I'm alive! No more gnomes! I can even flex my quad! And walk with no cruches because my meniscus was "awesome". Woot. (Not that it feels all that amazing to walk at this point, and my knee is immobilized in a straight position) but I *can*...which is cool.

I just woke up from a vicodin induced nap and also just finished my first "cold cycle" with my awesome sweet Game Boy machine aka My New Boyfriend. (actually I think it's called "Game Ready" polar pump but I called it a Game Boy right after surgery and the name seems to have stuck. I also called it a Game Master but I don't remember when.) It's a huge basically full leg (I have short legs. SHUT UP!) cuff that circulates cold water around your leg and gives you a little bit of compression. It feels sweet. And cold. Like ICE CREAM!

Not going to lie, before drugs kicked in it sort of hurt. Not really any more horribly than like, heel hangs and circus rope burns, but it hurt in a "hmmm, I don't understand this type of pain" way. It wasn't unbearable, but I was very glad when V to the Max kicked in. Heh. Kick. I had knee surgery. heh heh.

But also, I'm sure it's still numb from whatever the hell they put in the actual joint itself, so I'm not going to be all cocky (heh heh. cock.) about pain tolerance until like, 3 days from now. But RIGHT NOW it's feeling ok. I can definately tell where they put the scope in, it feels like how a deep cut feels. But it's all bandaged to hell so I can't even see what's going on under there yet.
Cassie-Moo (my cat) is being the best nurse EVER, and layed down across my stomach/lap and took a nap with me. I think she liked the sound of My New Boyfriend and also she just knows things.

I was very brave for the IV and actually didn't get really nervous at all until they wheeled me into the (very cold) room with all the machines and instruments and things. But then the anestesiologist (my Other new boyfriend) was all "I put a sedative in your IV about 15 seconds ago so you'll feel nice and relaxed in about 10 seconds." He was asking me if I get nauseated from alcohol and was like, "Uh...I mean...if I overdo it or something...." (The other nurses in the room seemed to think that was very funny for some reason) and he was like, "no I mean if you have like, 2 drinks or something." Nope. All set there. I like how I feel after 2 drinks! (They also thought that was funny.) So we were talking and I was talking about yoga or drinking or something and I suddenly felt more relaxed and wonderful than I have in like, months (like euphoric relaxed) and I don't remember falling asleep but I did, aparently...and then I was waking up sitting in a bed. What the fuck!? Awesome, right?

The nurses were super nice and I was the superstar of the day, being a trapeze artist and all. They thought that was pretty cool.

When the first nurse was asking me all sorts of questions about an hour before I asked him if they knew who the graft was from (like, if it was a girl or guy or whatever) and he said that he didn't know if that information is written anywhere but he'd see. About 10 minutes before they wheeled me into the room he popped is head through the curtain and said "31 year old female." I was like, "huh? I'm 24." (No, I wasn't on any drugs yet.) "Oh...(giggles) no..." he said "the graft... 31 year old female." *thinks about that for a minute*.

So, a few hours after and I'm much more lucid and whatever than I thought I'd be, can definately feel that I had knee surgery but (knocking on wood) pain is being managed (*snort* I'm a trapeze artist after all.) and I'm just looking forward to healing.

Countdown.

2008-02-15T10:04:00.003-06:00

3 days until Gnometenna removal. Or, Gnome Excavation, as my sister said the other day.

It's irritating. They said I need to "walking to surgery saying that I don't need surgery". Well, I understand what they mean now. My knee doesn't feel "right", but it does feel like my knee again. It's a little wonky and achey still....sort of occasionally giving me the StopWalkingAroundOnUnevenIceandSnowPlease feeling. And I can't bend it all the way (like, yoga HeelToButt stretch) without some tenderness, but it feels pretty strong and...meh. I dunno.

Oh. About the first sentence.

My siblings and I are really into imagery and funny pictures and things...so we've decided that the reason my knee hurts and that it was spasming a few weeks ago was because there are gnomes in there building an antenna...which would explain the psychic dream I had about some friends of mine. So anyway they know that the end is near and their construction project (the Gnome Antenna, or, "Gnometenna") will be disrupted so they're starting to get angry. My sister said that we should build them a home (or, a "Gnome Dome") for after surgery so that they'll have somewhere to go. Knowing my sister, she probably actually Will build something...and I'm not going to lie, it's going to make me laugh after sugery. And I'll probably really need it. Yeah. Definately not going to lie...I'm getting a little nervous about it. But I'm trying to stay positive. A month ago I felt like the world was ending (being injured is scary!) and it's been exactly a month and things are clearly healing and everything's going to be ok yadayada. Tryin' to see the forrest...

It's the not knowing what to expect that gets me. And the needing to be dependent on people. And needing my friends to be around to remind me that I'm not going to be forgotten or left behind or whatever. I hate needing those things. *shrugs*.

So, this might turn into an ACL blog (by the way, what does the "B" in "blog" stand for? Like, I understand that one keeps a "log" of events...but "B-log"? Shouldn't it be...like...an Elog?) for a while.

Blink Blink.
I'm going to go buy some pillows.

Life. Or Something.

2008-01-26T18:23:00.000-06:00

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. Or some other steaming pile of bullshit.
I'm dizzy from this rollercoaster ride I'm on. Up Down Side Down Up Up Ok Down Down CartAlmostFallsOffTheTrack Up Ok Down. I'm currently in a Down.

Knee injury+lots of opinions+being told I need to work with my eyes on this show instead of being in it+two nights of fever dreams+hormones+not being able to train+more opinions+friends who are mostly scattered across the country+probably surgery in a few weeks=A Not So Happy Sarah. at the moment.

Trying to keep my spirits up blah blah blah fuckyoublah blah.

On the other hand, a client called me today to ask me about apartments that I have available and proceeded to tell me that he's been a manager at foot locker for 5 years and "needs two bedrooms because I [he] have a shoe fetish and need a lot of space for them all."

Uh. Thanks dude. I'm just your rental agent. Not your therapist or priest.

*large sigh*

Injury.

2008-01-10T23:36:00.001-06:00

MRI results tomorrow, hopefully.
I've never injured my leg before. Scary shit.

If you believe in God, or the Universe, or Gaia, or Krishna, or Yoga, or whatever...send some good luck vibes to my right knee.

Thanks.

The General.

2007-12-25T15:05:00.000-06:00

Me and my little brother started a tradition a few years ago. It is a tradition of Monster Marshmellow Men. Today, it came to a peak that I could never have even drempt of.

This all started innocently enough, me just wanting to have a little bit of fun with a snack that I made him.

This is a smore sized marshmellow, with a face drawn on with permanent marker, eating a cucumber. It's just for decoration.

I continued to make him little Monster Marshmellow Men during the following years. Putting them on his breakfast plates at birthdays, family dinners, and in plastic bags in travel cases when he'd go traveling for school.

Recently, I made him an entire brigade of Monster Marshmellow Men when he came home for Thanksgiving. You know, for protection. Or something.

I used the mini kind of marshmellows for said project, and placed them in a bag under his door for him to find on his way back to school. On the top of the bag it said "sealed for your protection". Because, you know, Monster Marshmellow Men can be quite tempremental and dangerous.

Then, this morning, on X-Mas, there was a new box under the tree that read NO SHAKING NO TOUCHING DO NOT MOVE which for me is hella hard because my favorite thing in the world is shakey-feelies.

I waited and waited to see what it was. It was from my little brother. The clue (we write each other clues and riddles on all of our x-mas presents to each other) said something about how he knows I "don't like sweets but could probably make an exception this time".

He made a large presentation about opening the box, carefully untaping the sides and holding it in the same position. Something very fragile inside no doubt, I thought.

What was revealed to me made me laugh harder than I maybe ever have in my entire life. Tears streaming down my face and stomach hurting from the sheer force of it.

I gave him the Brigade. He gave me a General.

It's a huge model magic foam sculpture of a Monster Marshmellow Man, in a container that use to hold some sort of clock like structure. The tag reads "The General. Sealed for your protection".

It even has a little green army hat and a fake plastic gun on the side. As you can see.

Here's a a photo of the scale of this thing. Next to it you'll see one of the Brigade.

Christmas rocks.

Ebb and Flow.

2007-12-23T21:40:00.000-06:00

it's strange to feel like you're being swept up river but that you're not necessarily drowning.

9 shows down, 3 to go.

Imagine THIS.

2007-12-20T13:16:00.000-06:00

Opening the show tonight. Yay for spinning by my ankle in front of 7000 people.
I was driving to the space the other night for rehearsal and got all choked up at how lucky I am. Being an artist is pretty cool sometimes.

I'm wearing longer eyelashes than a stripper, more glitter than an 80's rock star, a monkey costume that makes me look like part of the cast of Flashdance, an angel costume that includes white gaucho pants, and hair so big it rivals any Texan I saw at the Willy Nelson 4th of July picnic...and I'm loving it.

Happy Holidays ya'll.

Aliens Among Us.

2007-12-11T16:18:00.000-06:00

Holy crap. I have to tell you what happened today.

Ok. So.

I find a post-it ad for "Extra Holiday Cash" with flexible hours, training, and whatever else blahblah. So I figure, what the hell. Working on commission is a hard way to make a living and any sort of "extra" income is helpful. I figured it would be some data entry bullshit or something mindless that I could easily devote a few hours a week to doing. So I called "Trina" (names changed for entertainment purposes and anonymity) and made an appointment to come in to "see if I would be a good fit". I could tell that she had a permanent smile plastered on her face simply from hearing her voice on the phone...and it only went downhill from there.

I enter into an office building and go LL. I walk through some doors into a stark white office that looks like it was made from paper with...get this...full out elevator music playing. Seriously. You know the kind... "dum dut duh duhhh...deedeedeedee dum dut dut duh deedeedeedum..." etc.
Oy. What have I just walked into. A Stepford Wivesesque girl greets me and asks who I'm here to see. "Trina" I say, very much aware of my lack of smile. Her's is big enough for the both of us.

I meet Trina and learn that there are 2 other people in our little group to learn about the company. (Oy.) So, the appointment is suppose to start at 1:15 but we all got there early for what I then learn is a "get to know you" circle. I'm asked questions about what I do, Trina (creepily) remembering every single thing I told her on the phone the day before about what my background is...I'm asked where I'd like to be in 5 years and if I could go anywhere tomorrow where would I go. All the while standing in the little paper room with this elevator music blasting. So the meeting starts, and we learn that...::FANFARE:: they are in the Health and Wellness field and sell this fucking miracle juice and vitamins. Honestly, if I wasn't a really nice person, I would've walked out. But there must've been something pumped into the air or subliminal messages in that music that had me staying in my seat.

This meeting is interspursed with video clips showing people JUST LIKE YOU AND ME becoming FINANCIALLY INDEPENDENT by getting people to sign on with them and the HORRORS of what'll happen if we let this incredible opportunity pass us by! We'll remember walking out of this meeting for the REST OF OUR LIVES! ::DUN DUN DUHHH!!!!:: People walked out on Bill Gates too! We're the next Bill Gates!!! RARRRRRAAHHHH!!!!!

So the last straw for me was when the meeting started to go over an hour and "Shelana" (the other person running this meeting) got ALL excited and said that the president of the company was taking a few minutes to call in and talk to us PERSONALLY and then...oh, this is the best part. They have a FAKE PHONE CALL from the president of the company come over the loud speaker (I know. It was totally like Lost.) and the woman running the meeting is all looking up to where the angelic message of financial hope and freedom and just pay $300 to come to a seminar this weekend with some millionares and learn how to do it yourself! is coming from with these big alien eyes with that same creepy smile, nodding along to what the (fake) phone call is saying.

When it was finally over (and half the room had left, which I didn't even realize because they had put me in the front row!) I was irritated enough at the point to when my "team leader" "Trina" asked me how much money I wanted to make I said "I'm sorry. I have a show opening this weekend and I'm about to be late for rehearsal. I can't come to the seminar because of that show, but it sounds interesting (read: you'reacrazyalienperson)..." and sort of trailed off because I didn't want to keep in touch or anything...because thanks but I'm really not interested. And Trina said that she'd call me.

I shall be memorizing her phone number to be certain that I just happen to never be able to answer when she calls.

The quest for financial freedom continues. And I'm pretty sure it won't be by selling miracle juice. Unless it's actually miracle juice. And in that case, I'm sure you'll hear about it through other means besides a goofy internet blog.

Farewell Umbrella.

2007-12-02T15:11:00.001-06:00

If any of yall ever get to see this show, for the love of God, do it. Especially if you're into movement theatre. It was stunning.

A few of the cast members, literally, could move every.single.joint.and.muscle independently of each other. It didn't even look human.

It reminds me why I need to train every day. Stupid France and their government funded art. *grumble grumble*

I did a gig with RedmoonForHire the other day which was super fun. Hopefully more of those in the future.

The weather sucks big time and it's putting me in a bad mood. Maybe hanging from the ceiling in the mega church will help.

An Artist's Life.

2007-11-30T15:56:00.000-06:00

They prepare you for having a hard time in the biz. Yeah. Ok. I'll give them that.

But what they don't prepare you for is having to watch people around you have things happen IMMEDIATELY while you're busting your ass feeling like you're on a treadmill.

Sorry to sound bitter. I guess it's just one of those days.

faith
Pronunciation: fāth
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural faiths \ˈfāths, sometimes ˈfāthz\
Etymology: Middle English feith, from Anglo-French feid, fei, from Latin fides; akin to Latin fidere to trust — more at bide
Date: 13th century
1 a: allegiance to duty or a person : loyalty b (1): fidelity to one's promises (2): sincerity of intentions2 a (1): belief and trust in and loyalty to God (2): belief in the traditional doctrines of a religion b (1): firm belief in something for which there is no proof (2): complete trust

I'm working. It's a good thing. I really can't wait to get my hands on a real script again, but I'm working. Pounding the pavement is a good thing. It's a good thing to be doing. We all get there in different ways. It's too early to start doubting what I'm doing, being unhappy with where I'm at, or questioning my decisions up to this point. Woodruff said "don't rush". I'm not rushing. I'm just eager. Faith is a hard thing to have.

I wish I knew just a little more than I know right now. I need a community.

A Series of Short Open Letters.

2007-11-09T15:08:00.000-06:00

Dear Crazy Landlords That I Now Work With,

You suck. You can go to hell. You can go to hell and die. You're nuts. That is all.
Love, Sarah

*****

Dear Awesome Landlords That I Now Work With,

You rock. I really hope those people decide to rent your place. Waving the pet fee and lowering the rent? Seriously, you're going straight to heaven. Karma points abound.

Love, Sarah

*****

Dear Actors Equity Association,

So, you're here to "protect the actor"...right? So you're telling me that I can't do well paying non-equity gigs with a huge company yet you'll let me work on a Tier 1 CAT Contract that pays 162.50 a week and that's...better? Let's talk about how renting one apartment could pay me triple that. In one day. Come on, let's discuss, shall we? I get that "theatre doesn't pay the bills" but seriously? Give me a break.

Love, Sarah

Nutrisoda, a continuation.

2007-10-21T00:34:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends,

In an effort to educate the masses on the dangers of certain soda-like Nutriproducts, I have extended the branch of knowledge to my younger brother via a formal tasting in our basement.

Be Amazed. (<------------to read the article. duh.)

Here's hoping you "pay it forward", as they say.

An Open Letter.

2007-10-17T22:38:00.001-05:00

Dear airforce NUTRISODA "RENEW" flavor,

The side of your can promises that I will feel "pure and alive" after drinking your zero sugar zero caffeine zero sodium zero aspartame fifteen calories (what?!?! where are those calories coming from!?!?) soda. In your very pretty robin egg blue skinny can, you boast your healthy herbey goodness and "natural fruit flavors". "RENEW" happens to be watermelon + blueberry.
Upon opening said pretty can, I am met with the smell of Flinstones Vitamins that have been stored in an old sock.

Perhaps a rabid raccoon's ABC'd watermelon Bubble-Yum mixed with cream soda and poison aftertaste is renewing to some, but to me, well, I'm glad that it's caffine free, at least.
Maybe it's the Acerola Cherry Extract or the Potassium Benzoate. Either way, I'll be sure to check the labels for "CALM" "SLENDER" and "IMMUNIZE" to make sure they contain less of these, um, ingredients.

Love,

p.s. "CALM". oo. yeah. cough syup mixed with pine-sol. and not in a fun flaming homer type way. "wildberry+citron". for shame, NUTRISODA. for shame.

Press and Such.

2007-10-16T12:12:00.000-05:00

Hey y'all.

Go check out a totally kick ass Chicago photographer , Josh Hawkins, who took some incredible pictures of our show! (I'm the one upsidedown on the pole.)

I'd also like to mention that I was the Time Out reviewers "favorite witch". snap! (scroll down to the bottom)

/end shameless self promotion.

Onward.

My Kinda Town.

2007-10-14T22:24:00.000-05:00

I took an absolutely soul warming seminar about "the Biz" in this town. Yeah. You read that right. Soul Warming.
I had a lot of angst/worry/secondguessing/etc. about not picking up and moving to New York or LA after grad school. The school was on the east coast, so the "natural" move was to the Big Apple, or LA, since "you gotta do it before you're old and ugly". Or something.
But I didn't chose either. I decided to come back to here to work in the theatre market that I know and love. Of course there are amazing houses around the entire country and I want to work at all of them. But this is my home base. Everything happens here, and I don't need to be a celebrity to get noticed. If I want an acting gig in New York, I'm in competition with Puff Daddy (Yes. Really. He was in Raisin in the Sun) because he gets butts in the seats.
Anyway.
This workshop was exactly what I needed. A semi-toughlovebutmostlypeoplereallyexcitedabouttheirtownandbusiness day talking to everyone from casting directors to agents to people on the business side of the unions and how all that works and blah blah blah stuffishouldalearnedinschoolbutwasn'tpartofwhattheythoughtwasimportant type stuff.
The chinese pole act in the show is going really well and I'm suprised and thrilled that it's come together as well as it did.
This town is about working actors. I'm not going to be put into a box unless I put me there. I can wear a lot of different hats, and I'm expected to. You have no idea how fantastic it was to hear that. Especially after hearing, in similar Q&A sessions in LA showcases, that "theatre and training is a waste of time, will never make me money, or happy, so I might as well move to LA while I'm young." Yeah. Fuck you lady in LA who said that to my class. I'm doing this my way.

Survival Jobs.

2007-10-10T14:36:00.000-05:00

The hunt for the elusive survival job continues. I find the status of actor/waiter to be much too cliche for me for the time being, while I still have the luxury of making the choice not to be one...but I really want my own place. Soon. So I might have to do things I'm not into just to get started. Le'sigh.

After sifting through the (very tempting but complete bullshit as far as I can tell) endless “get rich from home” ads and people needing work in exchange for “the great experience you’ll gain”, I’m wondering if I’m ever going to find what I’m looking for.

I want a job that will allow me to pursue my life. What does this mean, you ask? Here’s what it means. My life is in the arts. Gigs are few and far between. I refuse to work for free unless it's a barter situation, and I have completed a Masters degree in the theatre field and I’m really worth more than “tape for your reel".

I think my new tagline should be, "Sarah. The girl you didn't know you needed."

Would you like someone to come to your home gym and help you put a workout regime together? Would you like someone to come in one day a week to do all of your shopping and food prep; package healthy balanced meals for the week ahead? Would you like to put together a meditation class a few days a week? What about some faux finishing in your living room or re-decorating your bathroom? Piano lessons? Voice lessons? Research for the documentary or book you’re writing? Worried about a speech you need to give? Want some help editing it? Organizing your junk drawers or pantry? I have a detail-obsessed gene that is dying to do that kind of thing. I’m a super fast typer. I’m in the generation that still had “typing” in school. Need some articles for your Food and Wine magazine? I know the difference between escarole and endive, and I can be witty if you’d like.

I’m really good at all of those things. Did I go to school to be a personal chef? No. I didn’t. But do I do it in my “real life”? Yes. Am I a certified personal trainer? Not yet, but I intend to be. I’ve been hired as a specialist in circus coaching situations, and have the training to back it up.

Certifications. CERTI-FUCKING-CATIONS! Is Rachel Ray certified to be a cook on TV who's taken over the universe with her less than exciting sayings (Yum-o?)? Were Ben and Jerry certified in ice cream making when they started up their tiny little store in Vermont? Was Joan of Arc certified to lead the French army against the English? Maybe direct orders from God is as good a certification as any, but come on people. In the case of Rachel Ray (who seems like a genuinely nice person, nothin' but love for her. excited raspy love.) and Ben and Jerry, they're just people who were good at something and someone gave them a frickin' chance.

Of course, preferably, the job will be in the arts. But realistically, I need to start thinking slightly outside the box.

The hunt continues.

Anti-Line.

2007-10-05T10:58:00.000-05:00

I didn't spend two years and three months in grad school to stand in a thousand person long line to be seen for cattle call musical audition. Oh, wait. That's right. I didn't go to Julliard so my degree doesn't mean anything. Awesome.
I'm not into the American Idol way of doing things that seems to be ever so popular lately.

I left.

Do I have as much right and chance as anyone else standing there? Yes.
Do I have other ways of getting in the door that are more creative and interesting and less of a waste of my time? Yes.

What is the line between confidence and ignorance? If people tell you something for your whole life, but you suddenly start to have doubts about it, does it mean that they were lying to you? or that your own standards are unrealistic? Sometimes I don't know who or what to trust.

"The Universe puts us in places where we can learn. They are never easy places, but they are right. Wherever we are, it's the right place at the right time. Pain sometimes comes; it's part of the process of constantly being born." ~Delenn, Babylon 5

That is all.

An Open Letter.

2007-09-27T23:17:00.001-05:00

Dear Chinese Pole,

I'd really appreciate it if you stopped tearing the skin off the back of my legs. It's cool that it feels all cold in the warm car on the ride home, but it doesn't make for a very nice showering experience or more rehearsal the next day.

So yeah, it'd be great if you could stop doing that.

P.S. I'll let you know if my left boob actually bruises or if it just really hurt for the few minutes after I smashed it into you on that knee drop don'thityourface plant of death. Yeah. I'll let you know.

Reviews.

2007-09-24T09:54:00.000-05:00

a shining review of my weekend:

restorative, got to see old friends that I forgot I missed, hung out with family, had a great audition, and got some much needed rest for my body and spirit.

a scathing review of my airport dinner at Fridays at the Providence Airport:

My server was a very nice young woman. She informed me that their computers were down and that there was an ATM right around the corner. Ok. That's fine. Thanks for letting me know up front and being pleasant about it. One star for that.

I ordered the "Dragonfire Chicken". I'll save you the trip to Friday's and give you what the menu says right here: "plump juicy grilled chicken breast glazed with kung pao sauce over stirfried brown rice with pineapple picco de gallo, mandarine oranges and broccoli with zesty cilantro lime dressing.

Sounds ok, right? And since it's on their "low fat" option (500 calories and 10 grams of fat, not so low but I shudder to think what the stats of the rest of the menu is) I can even feel good
about watching my portion size. And since I can't eat butter (doesn't agree with me) it was nice to hear that the veggies didn't contain any butter or oil in the process of cooking them. (my server even went to check for me. how sweet.)

here's what I got:
two dried out pounded chicken breasts swimming in a thick spicy slimy soup sprinkled with 5 slices of mandarine oranges. oversteamed, luke-warm broccoli (no "zesty cilantro lime dressing to be found) and two giant scoops of salty butter soaked mashed potatoes.
Where was the brown rice? Pineapple picco de gallo? The menu so sneakily mentions that "subsitutions may be necessary , slightly effecting the nutrition information" but COME ON.
First, if it's on the "low fat" menu, don't dick around and substitute 500 calories worth of mashed potatoes. And Second, It's not even CLOSE to what I ordered.
The chef at the airport was asleep or playing jokes or something.

Thanks Fridays, for furthering the cliche that airline food is bad on and off the ground.

I would've been better off with an overpriced protein bar from the magazine stand.

ent nau I weel gou bracdeece maee frensh dialect foh maee audeeshon tudaee.
weesh me loo(g)k.

Aloft Training.

2007-09-11T10:24:00.000-05:00

and now, a conversation between me and Shayna last night at Chinese pole rehearsal (no, i'm not stripping now. MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER!) :

Shayna: ok now, this trick is called "Shayna's Downfall".
Me: ::blink blink::
Shayna: this is the one i tore my intercostal muscle on and was on the couch unable to move for 8 weeks.
Me: ::blink blink:: proceeds to try it and doesn't tear anything but can see how one would on such a trick.

and the other gem of the night:
"this one's called the collarbone crusher...you'll see why after you try it."
oh yes. i understand many things. many many things.

i heart chinese pole. i actually do. it's really fun. i feel like a total bad ass.
oh and p.s., i don't know how those bastards at Cirque do this act with full bodysuits on. i had to practically get naked to expose enough skin to stick to the pole. ::shudders:: oww! it burns us!!

Up Down Practice.

2007-08-30T12:17:00.001-05:00

what comes up, must come down, i guess.

a bit. strike. a lot of let down after the festival. problem with flying that high is the fall back to "real" life. if i want that to be my real life...i have to make it so, i guess.

more let down at an audition today. i need more practice. i really need more practice. my biggest actor habit is getting "performey" instead of "doing" it. it's like the difference between a stand up comedian and someone who's naturally funny. you don't want to be the stand up comic in an audition.
at least i got to try it again. "night and day" she said. thanks. sigh.

"every time you come into an audition, you're there to work. anyone worth their salt will be able to tell the difference between working through and nerves."

so, the next step. how to take my mantra and apply it. i get to try again next week.

here's to ease.

ease.

Aerial Dance Festival.

2007-08-11T13:49:00.000-05:00

*8/6*
it's only the first day and i can feel a change. a change in my attitude, my approach to the work, and how i feel about the work. i suppose those all could technically be the same thing, but for me, right now, it's not. like i discovered with my acting...success comes wihen there is a sense of ease...a sense of relaxation and putting your focus on your partner. sometimes, your partner happens to be a piece of fabric or welded steel. you just have to listen that much harder to understand it's language.

i think it's finally time to let go of the cage of power tumbler that i've placed myself into. it's good to be strong...and powerful...but it's not just about a set vocabulary. it's about inventing your own, and learning from those around you. Invented Apperatus is Veiwpointing in the air. it was amazing to be in a new group of 18 and suddenly try to and succeed at trusting them like i trusted my grad school class. i don't know idiocincracies...but that's why we're here for two weeks. ease ease breathing relaxation. it doesn't have to be a struggle. it doesn't have to be a claw back to "where i was"...i am where i am...and in a lot of ways, it's a wonderful thing.

so after eating a practically living dinner at Whole Foods, lovingly feeding my body what it needs, and sitting here looking at the mountians, i can really tap into that sense of calm. of ease. of course there are always small demons dancing on my shoulder about everything from my body image to my muscles not being use to the altitude yet to wanting to cling to what's safe or familiar..but particularly that last one won't get me anywhere. learning new things isn't comforatble, but it's vital. and i have a bubbling trusting excitement that i usually only save for opening night of a show...where you think back to the memory you made of the first rehearsal...wondering how everything was going to come together...but putting faith in the fact that it will. i'm making a memory today. trying to remember how this is. desperately wanting to know what it will look like in 13 more days. i can't wait to see.

*8/8*
it's like on Top Chef with deconstruction challenges. it's what is it until it isn't. take the ingredients, cook them differently, and put them back together again. sorry that probably made no sense to anyone reading this...it's an aerial choreography image i had.
i need to learn french.
i need to train every. day.

*8/9*
someone called me inspirational after trapeze class today. she came up to me and said "i just was watching you in class and you're just so good. you're an inspiration. i hope i can do that in a few years." it fucks with me head to hear people say that kind of thing to me. i won't pretend that i didn't think it was the nicest thing ever.

had a great conversation with a girl from my fabric class today. we talked about everything from training techniques to taking my time to how to train to frustrations...everthing...it's good to have deep conversations with strangers who share a passion for what you do. and who'se really fucking good at it.

*8/10*
i inspired an idea in my Invented Apps. teacher today. we were doing an improv and i went into the house of the theatre and read a plaque on one of the chairs and just kept repeating that through the improv. right before we finished class she said that she had been inspired and that she thought it'd be really cool to start a piece with us all in the house and have us slink down the steps murmuring names on plaques on our way down to the stage. yeah. i blushed.

*8/11*
Jill and i are going to write a show. we decided while walking through the famers' market this morning. it's going to be based on a Tajikistan folk tale. i'm so excited. it feels like it's absolutely going to happen. i love feeling like i'm a part of something again.
i bought a purple pepper at the famers' market today. yeah. it's actually purple. it's amazing. i was all nervous about this festival. feeling like i didn't know what to expect and not knowing if i could keep up and blah blah blah...i'm having more fun here and i'm happier here than i've been in a while. it's an awesome feeling. Jill says it's because we get to spend two weeks just doing what we love. it's so true. i'm so greatful.

Fin.

2007-06-10T10:33:00.000-05:00

yesterday was my final show with my class. with these people that i've been with for two years and a summer.
yesday it was over.
i'm done.
it feels like we started a week ago. it feels like i was in russia three days ago.
i just fucking graduated. MFA.
i'll probably feel it in a few days.
i don't want to pack. i hate packing.
it's fucking over.
unreal.

Trust and Risk.

2007-05-11T14:27:00.000-05:00

"You have to do things to change your situation if you're not happy with how things are. Because even if it doesn't make anything better, at least it'll hurt in a different way."

i wish that the person who said that to me had the wisdom and emotional maturity to deserve the kind of weight that sentence could hold. or did hold, until recently.

it sucks when people operate on different definitions of a word. "friend". what does it mean to you?

i risk too much and trust to easily.

Showcase Woes.

2007-04-01T09:26:00.000-05:00

Dear LA and NY agents and casting directors:

Does it *really* matter what I wear during showcase? Is it going to make you want to give me a job more? How about I just show up in my "I do my own stunts" T shirt, some cute cargos, and mary janes and I'll save us both the embarassment of pretending to be something I'm not. Oh-I'll even put on some make-up if it'll help you see that I can indeed clean up pretty well. But please. The process of coming to meet you has been slowly eating my soul and is ruining the end of my year. At least it's almost over. Maybe one of you will send me home with a business card. Or maybe I should just chalk this up to a little trip to LA and NY and I should just fucking enjoy it. Perhaps.

Love, Sarah

p.s., I'm not blonde, I'm not tall, I won't be wearing a push-up bra, and my ass won't be hanging out of my skirt. I probably won't even be WEARING a skirt. If I get a meeting with you, I'll mostly likely offend you by speaking my truth. I want to do amazing live theatre and bloody suspense action thriller horror movies. I hope you don't mind.
.
.
.
at least it's going to be over soon...then i'll get to enjoy my last few months (2 months...oh my god...) of grad school without having to worry about this CRAP anymore.
gee, i hope no NY and LA agents or casting directors read this. hmm. maybe i should make it slightly more...uh...secret? *sigh*
Betty's Summer Vacation just ended. it was such a fun show. one in a long time that was just a ball to do. i love that.
well, at least i'll get back into my regular gym routein again. i seem to be expanding. $(*#!*(@#.

Visual DNA.

2007-03-09T07:18:00.000-06:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Studio 6

2007-01-28T16:46:00.000-06:00

i may have found a place to hang my silks.

there's a dance studio/collection of studios hidden in a square near my apartment. someone in a random serendipidous e-mail suggested that i might look there to see if one of their six studios had ceilings that were high enough. since i'm starting to feel on the mend thank GOD the Plague is leaving my system and it's gorgeous outside i haven't left my house in seven days i decided to ride my bike down there and check out the space.

i entered this old building...climbed a set of stairs...and instantly felt a huge rush of communitypeopleenergylifefriendshappienessfamiliaritylongingelectricitydiciplineandlove.

it made me miss life. this crazy old dance complex made me long for home. for my circus school.

i saw people bustling around...going into yoga workshops...hugging each other...smiling...these people had community. they were a part of something. studio one didn't have a ceiling that was rig-able. flat. i climbed the stairs...each studio on the next level different but still nothing i could hang on. then...Studio 6. large, airy...huge metal beams across the ceiling...in lines and X patterns. perfect. i thought. i need to find out what the load weight on those X's are.

they rent space all the time to dancers...i left a note asking if they'd rent an hour a week in Studio 6 to me. i could actually feel like i'm not falling totally behind on something... wouldn't that be nice.

i love making memories. i made one today. walking up those stairs...what the floor looked like...the smells...the signs on the wall. i could definately make that a safe place for the few months that i'm still going to be here.

i wanted desperately to be a known face in the crowds of people today. i wanted people to run up to me and jump on me and hug me and ask me how me week had been. i know that dancers and yogis are naturally sort of like that, but actors are too. maybe i've taken my own community for granted. maybe it's there and i'm just missing it. being isolated for seven days also doesn't help matters.

i've always known, and keep on "re-finding-out" that i need to feel a strong sence of place in a community in order to feel "ok" with things. it's why i did so well in russia...i think. it's why even when i was complaining all the time about it teaching a few summers ago was a really good thing. i had a group of people i belonged to.

i've always been a loner type. yeah. ok. cool. fine. but that doesn't mean i can't have strong ties with different groups. i need that. i keep forgetting and then i wonder why i sitathomebymyselfgettingdepressedandfeelinglikeihavenolife. that has to change. now. now. my life right now is school/gym/rehearsal/home. where's the Studio 6 time in there? *i don't know if i'll ever actually be allowed to work in Studio 6, but seeing that it existed made me so happy that i'm coining a new phrase for myself.* what am i doing to make myself sane/happy/centered/balanced? the gym doesn't count, because i consider that a part of what i need to do for my career, my body, and my health. BUT, i definately could change my outlook about it. definately could do that. how can i start to cherish the time that i have to enjoy my workouts? my fitness lifestyle? what are my goals? they are realistic. so what is keeping me from reaching them? the answer may very well be sheer exhaustion. and i have to believe that my body getting so sick this week was a sign for me to just rest. which i did. which i really needed. thank you, body, for insisting.

i've decided that it's no longer ok for me to feel like i have no life. i wanted so badly to go up to those people today and ask them what they do in real life. if these classes were their Studio 6 time or if they teach/train/dance professionally. how they balance things. time. themselves.
that's what we should be learning in school. how to have commitment, deadlines, priorities, and a life to go along with it. maybe an hour by hour calendar for myself for the next few weeks wouldn't be such a bad idea.

i'll keep you posted. keep your fingers crossed for me for the fruition of my actual Studio 6 to come through. but even if it doesn't...it's now a concept that i've got to hold onto for the next few months...strike that... lifetime.

Not So Secret.

2006-12-17T18:22:00.000-06:00

so, to my friends and family it's really not a secret that i secretly want to be a chef. i've become somewhat of a morning person in the last year or so i know, who'd have thought?!?! and as much as i bitch and moan about it, i get up at 6:00am every morning class at 9:00 in order to make myself a tasty breakfast (6 egg whites, irish oats with banana extract, mixed frozen berries, HUGE mug of tea) and read food blogs. yes, food blogs. i love them. i want to be one. i want to be a food blogger, damnit!!
why the hell not, you know? i follow a fitness lifestyle so i eat clean more than 95% of the time, but some of the most fun i ever have is trying to figure out how to make gourmet, clean. maybe i should start writing about that.
i also have been reading a lot of 12 Days of Cookies type entries...and wanting to try some of them although i never keep butter, sugar, or any other contraban of the sort around. BUT...a few days ago me and the girls of my class had a dinner, and i cooked something that is totally not on any sort of clean eating plan...but it was oh so tasty. so i had some of the said ingredients in the house, and decided that i'd use them up by trying some no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies that i read about. i changed the recipe up a little bit because the first time i tried it they were way too sweet for me. so, here goes nothin'. my first official FOOD POST!
this is for half a batch, probably about 12 small cookies...?

No-Bake Chocolate Oat Cookies
2 tbsp butter
1/4 c. milk (i had nonfat vanilla soy milk on hand)
2/3 c. sugar
1/2 c. dark chocolate chips
1 square of Baker's UNSWEETENED chocolate (crumble it up so it mixes with the chips)
1 1/2 c. quick cook oats
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

combine butter, sugar, and milk in a pot. stir until heated and very gently bubbling.
turn down heat and add chocolate and oats, stir to combine. turn off heat. the chocolate will melt from the heat in the pot. spoon onto a plate and refrigerate until firm.

when i'm less of a blogging moron i'll learn how to post pictures. for now, use your imaginations. hearts.

Take Ten.

2006-11-15T14:17:00.000-06:00

as i was huffing and puffing through my steady state cardio day this afternoon, i started thinking that i really miss Pathways. i really miss feeling like a whole room of people is always there to support me. in my endorphine riddled state i started thinking..."why not make every day a 10?" why not take a huge risk every day? because it'd be to scary? probably. i'd love to repeat Advanced...there's something...strike that...someone that i just can't...well...i feel like i've hit a wall with how much i'm going to heal from. i need some assistance. so, in said endorphine state i start to think of all the things i want to say...and do...and tell people...and how awesome my body is sometimes for being able to keep up with the physical demands that i put on it...and then...the little green lights on the step mill blink their last blink and i'm back to just getting by. what's up with that? why do i feel like i need an excuse to just...fix things.

i started listening to music again. it took me two years...but i've started again. it just hurt too much. long story.
i also miss playing music. instruments scattered around my tiny apartment. it use to be my life. then grad school for acting happened, and my life is taken up by scene class, voice warmups, and movement pieces in which, for six weeks i've been asking myself, what can one do with a shopping cart?. one can stand on it...balance on it's handle, do a handstand on it's handle, crawl underneith it...the possibilities are endless, really. at least it explains all the bruises up and down my legs.
going to the symphony to hear a friend's concert the other day was so cathartic. from the first note that melted me into my seat to the last cymbal crash oh how Hallmark it took everything in me to hold back the tears that i kept blinking away.

we did stomach massage in voice class today. i have built up a nice little suit of armor, let me tell you. it's necessary for a trapeze artist to have such, BUT, the actor part of me needs to be able to breathe fully and without tension. it was...weird. but afterwords...for about seventeen seconds...i wasn't holding myself in. i started to laugh and cry at the same time and my legs felt like they had been attached to an electric battery jumper. it didn't last long. but it was amazing.

i had a Delenn extra point if you know who that is moment today of who am i. funny, i don't remember the final answer she gave to get the torturer to let her live. i was thinking about it in terms of starting to write here, a little...maybe... how to start...where to start.
i guess i just...started.

I Love.

2006-11-14T20:00:00.000-06:00

phonetic translation from Russian: Ya loo-blue vas.

I love you.

such pressure to come up with good titles...with a good name...even when i just intend on using this blog to be a little less anonymous in commenting on the wide world of internet writers.

sort of counter intuitive. or something.

Sarah. the girl you didn't know you needed.

To Tell You.

Fall, Late.

Scary Things.

Bike.

Steps.

Cartwheels.

Fourths.

Life in Art.

What It's Not.

Polars.

Calendar Days.

Running.

The Day That Rocked.

3 Months.

Looptopia.

Through The Trees.

8 Weeks.

BUTT!

Overwhelmed.

New Everything.

Almost a Quarter.

Organize Life.

ChChChChanges.

What They Don't Tell You.

The Breakup.

One Twenty.

Movie Moments.

Day 13.

Almost 2 Weeks.

Note To Self.

A Few Minutes.

Our Hero Takes A Shower. *edited*

Oops.

Physical Therapy, Day 1.

Stitch Removal of 2008.

Official Day 7. (actually, day 6. Thanks Vicodin.)

Note To Self.

Snacks. Does a Body Good.

Improvements.

Semi-Graphic Knee Pictures Ahead.

The Twitch of 2008.

Immobilizer Lesson.

Changing of the Guard.

Natural Alarm Clock.

An Open Letter.

Here Comes the Sun.

Later That Day.

Gnometenna Removal Complete.

Countdown.

Life. Or Something.

Injury.

The General.

Ebb and Flow.

Imagine THIS.

Aliens Among Us.

Farewell Umbrella.

An Artist's Life.

A Series of Short Open Letters.

Nutrisoda, a continuation.

An Open Letter.

Press and Such.

My Kinda Town.

Survival Jobs.

Anti-Line.

An Open Letter.

Reviews.

Aloft Training.

Up Down Practice.

Aerial Dance Festival.

Fin.

Trust and Risk.

Showcase Woes.

Visual DNA.

Studio 6

Not So Secret.

Take Ten.

I Love.

Our Hero Takes A Shower. edited