A "Yes, And..." Man

A girl at my acting class tonight asked me something.
Before I say what she asked me, I should explain that at this acting class, we practice a very specific style (aptly named "The Style") wherein we exist in only 4 different emotional states on-stage. Happy, Angry, Sad, and Afraid. That's all. Now we've only had one class so far, but we've been working with those emotions A LOT, as you can probably imagine.
So, before our second class starts, she asks me, "What state is the most difficult for you?" to which I reply "Sadness" to which she followed up, "Which one is the easiest?" to which I reply "Afraid...I was a very scared little kid. Mainly because I had an older brother who loved to scare the crap out of me."

Cut to end of class. We've just spent an hour and a half doing an exercise we do nothing but move around the space in a way that is connected to the entire ensemble. Very "energy" based and "group-mindedness"-y. Now the first...hour, probably, of the exercise was a lot of trying to feel the group out and in general, sucking. But the last 15 minutes (at least, there was probably a good 15 minutes of mediocre stuff in the middle) was some really magical, connected stuff, where the group was coming together and trusting each other in ways that only friends who have known each other for years would trust each other. It was really cool. And it felt so...primal. There was chanting involved, and middle fingers towards the sky, and pounding on the ground. It got weird.
But afterwards I noticed that all these people that I barely know, people who I had really WANTED to get to know but couldn't bring myself to fluidly start conversations with (there was one 3 minute period during our break earlier that I found especially painful. I almost blurted out, "I'm so bad at making conversation! Hi, what do you guy do or where are you from or...tell me your story!" But I didn't, instead, I just kept looking up at these people, making eye contact, getting shy and looking away again in embarrassment because I had nothing to say. It was bad.) Well now I've lost the previous sentence, so here's the set-up to it again:...afterwards I noticed that all these people that I barely know, people who I had really WANTED to get to know but couldn't bring myself to fluidly start conversations with, I had this connection with them and suddenly they actually felt like friends I had but just didn't know anything about.

Now, this could easily go into a "Isn't theatre MAGICAL?!" or "The power of HUMAN CONNECTION in THEATRE", but it's not going to. Sorry, bucko, we're taking a detour.

Instead I'd like to talk about how much I (and maybe some others of you out there?) live in fear. Weird social fear that I don't understand. Not all the time. Not even most of the time. But specifically and strongly around people I don't know yet.

Have you ever just finished something that you KNOW was amazing and you feel so proud of it and you're confidence peaks and you just feel like you are the best version of yourself? That's what I feel like everyone's "true self" is, to get douchey sounding for a second. It's that state where you just don't think about what you say before you say it because you know without a doubt it's the right thing to say, and if someone thinks otherwise, fuck them! That's just the way you are and those are the things your mouth and brain will produce! I feel like that's the only time when people are their real, deep down, true blue self. Now, some people live in this state all the time. Either because their confidence level is always fixed at an undeserved and irresponsibly high level or because they just don't think before they speak. Their mouth moves faster than their brain. And for some people, that's a great thing. But one of the reasons why I love alcohol is because I am one of those people whose brain is usually always planning and analyzing my speech before it is speechified, and alcohol really slows down that process and lets my mouth win the race. Which, while not always the best thing, certainly makes me feel like I'm being more "myself", without all the fears and social stigmas and imagined, fictional "awkwardness" tainting every sentence that comes out of my mouth.

More people should be nice. Anyone who judges somebody for breaking the ice and initiating conversation in a pleasant one should be shot. In the ass. With a gun. A big gun. It takes a lot of balls to be "that guy" or "that girl" who starts up a conversation with a stranger and asks them to open up while at the same time, courageously, opening up about themselves to them in an effort to get to know them.

To not shut down stupid ideas, even when you know they are stupid and awful, and instead just say, "Yes, and...". And for those of you who aren't familiar with this improv term, it basically just means that you take whatever idea the person just had, accept it immediately, and then build upon it. No denial. No judgement. Just take it, even if you think it sucks, and build upon it until you MAKE it good.

Man, this entry was a little all over the place. And I can definitely spot the spots where my brain was really trying to kick it into overdrive and produce some solid writing and the spots where my brain just flat-lined and my hands kept going with all the words.

I think the major point I wanted this to be about is: I want to be able to start conversations with strangers in my class without coming off as a weirdo. I want to be able to compliment girls (and guys!) in my class on something they did without anyone thinking that I am HITTING ON THEM. Jesus, that is really one of my biggest pet peeves and has evolved into one of my biggest social insecurities. I purposely sometimes act cold or will not compliment a member of the opposite sex specifically because I fear that she will think I'm hitting on her and tell people I'm a creeper.
I've just been the "people" girls tell that shit to too often. And every time I say, "Well, he might have just been trying to be nice to you." and it is too often met with, "No no no no no, you should have heard the way he SAID it." or "Maybe. But I don't know, he smiled way too much..."

This is a problem, people. Not just girls. Although I'm sorry I did go off on a little tirade on you at the end there...I just had to get that one off my chest because that's one of my hang-ups.
But seriously people, stop with all the judgement. We're all here and most of us just want to be nice to each other.

I just want to live in a world where I can tell people that I like the things that they do without coming off as disingenuous or a sleaze-ball.
Is that too much to ask?

WHY CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

World Peace 2012!

Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen.

-Jayme's 2012 Miss America Speech

Won't You Take Me To...

Hey! I'm back! Sorry about that brief hiatus, I should have warned ya'll, Diablo III came out and my life was nothing but it for about...3 weeks. I'm still pretty hooked on it, but it's been a while since I've hopped on it, so I figured I'd better update while I'm not DEEP into it.

But it's not just D3 coming into my life alone that has resulted in my lack of updates.
No, this problem is far worse. And far less easy to pin down.

This problem is that lately I've been feeling like I hate writing. I mean, I probably don't really, but that's what I've been feeling a lot lately. I don't know what it is. But recently, I just haven't felt the need to express my thoughts to the world. I went on this website that has a comprehensive "Dream Dictionary" which analyzes the things you dream about and tells you what they might mean. According to it, I'm depressed. Which...might be true? Because I've been in a very strange non-pro-active funk lately. I don't feel like making people laugh. I don't feel like writing. I've been very anti-social. I don't know what it is exactly. I don't feel sad or anything, just tired all the time and very lethargic.

Typical Jayme that it takes depression to get me to write.
Typical Jayme writing a depression entry IMMEDIATELY after a "Life is gooood" entry.

I dreamed that I had a giant splinter that I pulled out of my hand and the dream interpretation of a splinter is "you're letting the little things in life bother you too much". Which is true, I'm doing some awesome things right now but for some reason it's not registering in my brain. I'm in a one-act play that's going to be a fun little show. I'm taking acting classes at The Actor's Gang, learning The Style, Commedia Del Arte archetypes, and emotional states, which is the most fun I've had in ages. And I shot an episode of this crime recreation show Fatal Encounters back in January that just aired last night. I watched it, and I had way more screen time than I thought I was going to have!

I have also recently stopped meditating, which might be part of the problem. Maybe it's about time to pick that shit back up again.

But my main concern with this funk is the main concern I have with EVERY funk. It's the fear that it is not a funk. It's just the new you. The new "adult" you. And he sucks. He's not funny. He's anti-social. He's tired all the time and does nothing beyond the average. Ugh, back to this mediocrity thing again?! Seriously? This is ridiculous.

I'm better than this. I have more self-control and discipline than this. I usually don't force myself to do things out of obligation if I can help it, but I'm going to start forcing myself back into meditation, exercise, and most importantly, writing. Because I feel like this whole "I can't write without social motivation!" thing I'm going through has to do with some weird "My writing's not worth reading." bullshit I'm going through. Fuck that.

It's just a funk. And I'm turning it around starting today. Because I can. Because this quote by Anna Freud (Sidmund Freud's daughter) sums it up pretty well: "I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence but it comes from within. It is there all the time." I've always liked that quote. I believe strongly in the power of strength and discipline from within. That's why I'm so jacked.

This entry took 2 weeks to start. Then it was saved as a draft three lines in. Then, a week later, it was finished.
It was supposed to be about how I can't write, specifically comedy sketches, without social motivation to do so.
It was going to be called "Writing On Writing", but after finishing it, that didn't seem like a correct title at all. I really liked that title too! It was perfectly in sync with my past entry, cleverly entitled "Meditations on Meditating".
Oh well. Maybe "Writing On Writing" will show up later.

So I'm going to wake up now and stop feeling so damn tired!

It's funny, because this all started when my friend Ann linked to my blog from her blog, and I thought, "Damn. My blog is not a funny blog at all. My blog is more like a swampy, messy dive into some kid's psyche." And I was all, "I should make my blog funnier! Write funny stuff for people who read it!". Now, this may or may not happen. I don't know! We'll see how I feel.

Off to meditate on writing on meditations on writing!

Nipple.

(Special thanks Joe for reminding me that people read my shit and that people notice when I go for too long without blogging.)