Things I am good at:

1. Writing. Who knew? But I’ve had this particular fact pointed out several times recently and it’s starting to sink in to some degree. It’s nothing I’ve worked at or earned, but it’s something I dig and so it doesn’t suck that someone thinks I’m okay at it.

2. Music. I’m inconsistent, but when I’m in my element I think I have some potential.

3. Academics. It’s been quite a lark putting my brain to work for the past few weeks. And while I may not get into Yale, I think I stand a decent chance of getting into a top tier, at least on the strength of my pre-tests. I have work to do before I’ll feel like it’s good enough, but apparently a couple years out of college hasn’t put my brain on permanent hiatus.

The point of this list? I have options. The problem with this list? It doesn’t tell me what’s behind Door #3. I have no freaking idea what choice is the right choice and I have zero interest in making the wrong one.

” I still only travel by foot and by foot it’s a slow climb.”

So that whole taking ownership of my own sensuality… guess I still got some work to do. It seems it’s one thing to mean what you say and quite another to actually live it. But, I figure it’s at least a good start to be saying it. It’ll just take a little more practice to strut it. This is a tough one for me. On the one hand, it’s a rush to think that a group of then strangers saw enough of something in me to think that I could be this vibrant, sensual, utterly weird character. On the other hand, it’s actually a little intimidating to try to live up to expectations. But, there I think is where I’m catching on to my mistake. I should be living up to my own expectations. If I’m tired of being scared and reserved, it’s up to me to take ownership and change that. I shouldn’t require step by step instructions on how to stage an onstage seduction. These are the times when I wish I had held on to just a teensy little bit of my nineteen year old self. She was an idiot a lot of the time, but she fucking owned a room when she walked in. I have my theories on the reasons for that change, but now that I have had some time to do a complete 180, I have started to give some thought to meeting myself in the middle. I think it’s time to take the best of both worlds and be the actual best me, not just some half version with limited capabilities. I am finding my voice again and it feels SO FREAKING GOOD! I didn’t know I still had some of that in me and I will grant that I need work, but I feel so amazing when I am up there singing, that it’s more than worth the utter lack of sleep and perpetual dark circles under my eyes. Being back in the theatre, it’s just changing so much for me. I love this craft, but I don’t know that I fully realized just how much I NEEDED it when I was on hiatus. I feel like I’m coming back into myself somehow, and it’s really good. And that kind of goodness, it touches every aspect of you. I know it sounds hokey and sentimental, I totally get it, but there’s something intangible and completely undefinable that I feel like I’m getting back and it’s incredibly exciting. That said, it’s also incredibly overwhelming and a little terrifying to remember your capacity for happiness, but even though great happiness means risking great sadness, it seems to me a worthwhile chance to take.

But just in case I need a reminder about this feeling right this moment… “Surround yourself with the dreamers and the doers, the believers, and thinkers, but most of all, surround yourself with those who see greatness within you, even when you don’t see it in yourself.”

I feel more like me than I have in a very long time. And sexiness? Yeah, I got this. Bring it, Magenta. Me and you are about to be real good friends.

Bringing sexy back?

It is the crack of dawn right now. And I am awake. Just finished working out. But don’t be fooled. I do this in no sad attempt at a New Year’s Resolution. I don’t believe in those. I am up at 5am because I want to feel good about me. And honestly, right now feeling good doesn’t have much to do with weight, but it has a lot to do with being nicer to myself. Now, one could argue that the nicest thing you could do for yourself is sleep another hour or so. Meh. Sleep is easy. Waking up at 5am? Not as much. But I’ve been doing things the easy, normal way lately and somewhere along the line I lost touch with the fabulous person I used to feel like. I miss her. She was rarely the skinniest girl in the room, but she was often as not the most confident. So, I’m seeking her out again. But a little differently this time. I don’t think I’m going to find her in smoky bars, wearing a red cocktail dress and flirting with everyone in sight. But I’m gonna find her by taking a little more care of the person I am now.

I am playing a character that is amazingly sexy and ridiculous. Sounds like a non sequitur, but stick with me. This character is bold and funny and knows what she wants. She has shadows of old me. It’s pretty fantastic timing to be immersed in this at the very moment when I really need a constant reminder to live life fabulously and believe in a certain innate sexiness that I am capable of possessing. What I am learning as I am getting into this character is that that sexy isn’t nearly as much a set of physical traits as it is a certain air accompanied by a bit of a “take no prisoners” attitude. Sexy isn’t a size or a number on the scale. And it’s funny to have to remind myself of that, because when I look around my world, the sexiest girls I know are certainly not the ones in a size 5. So, why should the same not be true for me? Good question . The answer is easy, though. It is the same. I have as much right as anyone to go out into the world, no holds barred, and be the best kind of fabulous I can. I’ve been very reserved for the better part of the last year and I think it’s time to move past that. I think perhaps it’s time for the old me and the new me to meet somewhere in the middle.