if she wasn't doing enough...

I woke up yesterday feeling impatient, uneasy... lost. I realised I haven't been keeping account of my trip. Not even with pictures. Usually I can at least rely on a million selfies or ootd posts. But I have been slack. I cannot fathom why. The overall consensus I came up with is that I cannot be having a great time. If I am not taking pics of the fun I am having then perhaps I am not having fun at all???

But the thing is, I am. 

Its difficult because, I'm not exactly doing much. I have had a few auditions. Not as many as I would like, but I think no actor ever does feel completely content with audition spec. I have been reading pilots, throwing around ideas to write a pilot. Blogging once a week. Eating, drinking, meeting up with people. My Mum asked me, if your not really doing much, are you experiencing it at all? It was a question that stung. I mean... I am experiencing it. I have hiked, a lot. I have seen beautiful sunsets on beautiful beaches. I have drank red wine and talked long into the night with new friends and put the world to rights with old ones. I have spent too much in whole foods and I have worked out in the park surrounded by palm trees. I have got used to driving on the right side, drank dozens of coffees, eaten so much kale I am pooing green poos, gone to the puppy shop and sat with puppies for a long while. I have peed in the sea for christ sakes. I have driven along the PCH singing to Taylor Swift and sat in endless coffee shops pretending to work, sending one e mail every 2 hours. I have been shopping on Melrose when I shouldn't have been, I have met people in the industry with countless advise and met new people with countless stories and I have been creating memories. Sort of. I say sort of, because this isn't a holiday. This is life. And generally, day to day life can seem mundane. It's simple. It means waking up at 8am, faffing on whats app, e mails, instagram. Heading out to exercise, eating brekki, having a shower, getting ready, taking a selfie, (lots of selfies) posting one on insta and deleting the rest. You head out and you help your friend with a self tape and then you head for lunch and a drink and then meet another friend for a catch up. Sometimes you have an audition and other times you go to the coffee shop and write. You have a million and one things to do, but can't quite fathom what they are unless perhaps, your driving. Then you remember every single thing you have ever had to do, wanted to do and should be doing. You arrive home to realise you now can't remember all of that stuff you had to do... and you sit faffing for another couple of hours before deciding what to do for dinner. You are experiencing, living, out here in another country, but essentially, that isn't overly exciting to other people. BUT, it isn't a 9-5 job doing a job I don't want to do. I am not having to do that for a short space of time and for that I am so very grateful. So even if I am not bungee jumping into shark infested water, or having lunch dates with Ryan Gosling, I am still experiencing LA. (and I am not complaining)

The downside to no work, is that money runs out... and it will run out, and I need to get proactive. I can't lie that thoughts of stripping have gone through my head. I kid... sort of. Selling your eggs pays well -_- Life out here costs. Well life anywhere costs. A car, excessive rent, acting class, food (cocktails) It all adds up. The best idea I have had is to give up booze, Save the calories and the pennies. My body and wallet currently do not know what has hit them. I need to save both. Maybe writing this in print will give the the motivation to stick to it. Maybe I should give up booze for lent. A week late is better than not at all right? Jesus won't mind. 

My panic yesterday resided with the fact that I am not doing enough. Writing enough, taking enough pics, blogging enough, instgramming enough, being productive enough... I know for a fact I need to take one step at a time. But what comes first? And with no routine, all of the above seems horrendous. This place has a habit of making you feel like you are possibly not doing enough because everyone else is apparently doing... well, everything your not. 

So... I take a big breath and breathe... sort out a plan of action, make a list and plan my life. 

But first... lunch!

If she were completely honest

I pride myself on being an open person. Not necessarily honest at all times, but very rarely do I not wear my heart on my sleeve. Well, I try to always be open with others. I like sharing, mainly because I like people sharing back. I despise small talk and pointless convo, and even if I am not the smartest cookie (because cookies are so smart -_-) I like to debate and talk about things that matter. Sometimes I like to talk about Scarlett Johanssons body in that film where her body looked amazing, and sometimes I like to talk about crap, like if Kim K really did break the internet. I say sometimes, probably a lot. But if I have an opinion on it, I'll talk about it for days. That beats small talk. About the weather and what your doing for work at the moment. Shoot me in the head if you hear me say 'Gosh it's so sunny today'
Which out here, I have said a lot. In LA, there is more small talk than I am used to. And I have been swept in. Because when someone here asks you how your day is, you don't really want to respond with 'Well, I had this audition and it didn't go great, well, it didn't go bad, but I just wasn't feeling it, and they didn't seem to feel it and so now I feel a bit bummed and what is the point in all of this, maybe I should just do something else, maybe acting isn't for me... wait, I am giving the universe bad signals, I do want this, I do want to act, I just don't NEED it, right universe? That's what I am meant to say? If I want it but pretend not to want it too much, all will be well... so yeah, the audition went OK, who knows you win some you loose some, it's in the universes hands' and you look up to said universe and give it a sly little wink like you're both in on the same inside joke and you pray the universe doesn't clock that little pinch of (I really do want to book this job) because, well you know, the universe repels neediness like a boy you're  dating who you have just asked to see three nights in a row... so you look across at the semi stranger, (someone you just met last week for coffee because that's what you do here) and you say 'Yes, my days been great, I mean how could it not, look at the weather, it's so sunny here' and they reply, 'Gosh yes it rains a lot in England doesn't it?' and your in, your off on the small talk train and it's hard to jump off.

Sometimes I want to give all of me. Most of the time I want to give all of me. Then there are times when that is not appropriate. All of me can be annoying, over whelming, boring, too much. But...When your not being yourself, there's a strange sense of misjustice. I feel like I'm cheating myself. Like I'm wasting time in life conning myself and the people around me. But sometimes, I feel the people around me do not help me be myself. I feel suffocated by their intentions or their own ego or their own life issues. And in dealing with their own drama, I feel myself and my ego reacting to it. Not consciously. But subconsciously I feel my soul drain second by second and feel weak with thought process malfunction. And whilst they are dealing with their own issues, I am out here dealing with mine.

All I ever want to be is myself really. I want to be so self assured, so accepting of my own flaws and traits, that I am comfortable to just be 'all of me' at any one time with any person that I meet. And there will always be someone that doesn't like some of you or all of you and still, at the ripe old age of 30, I still find that hard to process. I want to be liked. And I really do feel that most people do. When I hear people say they don't care if Julie likes them, I firstly feel envious of such liberation and then I secondly feel sceptical because often I think that's a protection barrier. Because why would you not want Julie to like you? You don't meet Julie and hope that she doesn't like you. Yes wasting time trying to convince Julie that you're a good person or a funny person or an interesting person or how utterly great you are, is pointless. Probably because if she was to get to know you, the good the bad and the ugly, she might think those things anyways.

I always remember asking a good friend of mine... 'don't you worry if people don't like you', and she replied 'Naahh, if they got to know me they would.' and I never got it. I never understood how someone could be so free spirited about that. So sure that people would like her if they knew her. Which is silly, because I know she was right. If they knew her the way I did, they would love her the way I did. But having that reassurance about your own self... seemed unfathomable. If people got to know me they might see that I don't like sharing food, and that I am selfish at times. They would see that I am over the top and loud and opinionated. That I like talking... a lot. They would hear me be mean sometimes, or that I get defensive or grumpy or bossy. Worst still, they may not approve of my poo jokes. There are a lot of poo jokes. But as I have gotten a bit more self assured, I have started to sort of get what she means. When I meet people, if they are genuine, sincere and openly themselves, I often by pass the flaws, and end up liking them when I get to know them. That same courtesy comes back to you too. When you know someone, and you see why their behaviour is the way it is, often you end up relating to their behaviour, you see why someone might make that inappropriate joke, or come across as arrogant or barely even smile at you. You can empathise with most character traits because we all have them. And often, more often than not, the judgement I make of someone is a reflection of me and my own issues and not the other person. I recognise when I walk away from a person and I feel there was insincerity, It makes me feel like, they didn't trust me enough to be themselves. I sometimes walk away and think 'gosh they were an arrogant cock bucket' and inside I don't like it because it unnerves something in me, that someone doesn't sensor themselves the way I think appropriate. Sometimes people make us feel aways about ourselves or more to the point, we let people affect us and we feel aways. More often than not, If I don't like someone on first meeting it will be because I sensed they don't like me. (Unless they were racist or misogynistic or just dam right rude) But even then, people are who they are because of shit they have going around in their head. And most of the time, its stuff that we have going around in our heads too. We all just deal with it differently.

I worked with some people who I really did not jell with. I found them to be insincere and hurtful. Arrogant and so unsympathetic, that I thought they may be on the verge of psychopathic. I could not relate to them. Everything they did, every bad feeling they made me feel, I took to heart. I took it so personally, I would go home and cry because it felt apparent they didn't like me, and yet they would sort of pretend to and there was this mist of nastiness that resided over me daily. Once I stepped back, it became obvious that they hadn't liked me. It was hard to deal with (I am not one of those, ahhh who cares if they don't like me, I don't like them) sort of people. (Because I am just not one of those people.) Looking back though, I see that It made sense why they didn't like me. I did not appease them. I did not fit into the expectation they had of me and in return they didn't accommodate my needs. My need for them to be genuine and sincere. I was angry a lot, frustrated a lot and not giving the best version of me. Probably, I was the worst version of me. They felt that I didn't like them, I didn't listen to them, I didn't agree with them, so therefore they didn't really like me, and vice verser. We all played this game of pretend, because it's work. That's what you do. And it took me a long time to understand why they despised me so much. And when I realised why, it all felt so trivial. They didn't really know the real me. Because they were never genuine enough to warrant getting the real me on a daily basis. I didn't feel comfortable being me, wholeheartedly because I didn't trust them not to take the bad traits in me and use them against me. But what ended up happening was my ego would get all defensive. I was defending myself against other egos and we were in a full on ego war.

Deep down, I don't believe they are bad people as neither am I.(most of the time) We all want to be liked. We all want to fulfil an ego based expectation, whether it be to be the best one, the powerful one, the funny one, the kind one, the trust worthy one, the knowledgeable one, the interesting one... and if you meet people who have the same wants, you battle. But under all of that, don't we just want the person we meet to get us. To empathise with us, relate to us, connect with us. I am OK to meet someone I don't do those things with, hence I only have a handful of people who I trust with ALL of me, warts and all. But in every meet up I have, I want to find something in common, something we can laugh at together, something real to talk about. When I meet someone, it's not like I am praying 'Dear universe, I hope we talk about the weather today' I want to meet people I can be honest with, and who I can trust with all of me. Those people do not come around often, but the more honest I am, the more you realise who to talk to about that shit audition and who maybe to just discuss the weather forecast with.

Honestly... 

I don't like sharing food.

Julie is not a real person. 

I have never watched 'Back to the Furture'

I wasn't into Michael Jackson 

I wish I had tried harder at school

I wish I had been less obnoxious at school

I hate washing up cutlery

I cannot stand men in cuban heels

I can't stand football

I have a hairy belly button ( I take care of it) 

I sometimes don't shave for more than two months

I think about food vs getting fat way more than I should

I like Millionaire Matchmaker 

Spice Girls will always be my jam 

I say things like 'be my jam'

With a day in LA...

Well... I guess you could say a typical day involves a lot of hiking and a lot of driving. Yup, that's the truth. I will give a run down of a packed LA day and I promise I will try not drop too many wank stain cliche'd daily routines in there. But it's LA. There will be a few and I have to admit, I love em.

So I set my alarm for 7.15am every morning. I often snooze until 8am. I like a snooze. The little pockets of extra sleep are such treats that I feel like I am somehow beating the universe (sorry universe) When I do wake up I might do a sneaky five minutes on Instagram. Post a pic from the day before and then catch up with friends, family, the boyf on Whats app and such social media. Soon as the UK has been up for a good few hours, there is often a good hour of much needed voice notes and all that jazz. When I do finally rise, it's often a choice between, a gym work out (in the park) a hike or a run (I know, so freaking wank stainy) Now you add exercise into your routine out here like it's part of your day job. Because it sort of has to be, because here they sell things like giant pretzels with honey mayonnaise and candied walnuts and jars of cookie dough... so, yup, all the hiking... it's a must. Or I may need a helicopter to lift me out of the bedroom window by the end of the trip. 

Whilst we hike we do the cliche'd reflection. Where we are at in our lives, where we are going. Whether it's worth it, and then we look out at the view and pinch ourselves. Or course it is. We look at the houses in the hills and obviously discuss the house we will have when we book 'that' job. It won't be a house in Beverly Hills, but maybe Silverlake or Los Feliz. Well, a beach house down by Venice would be nice too, with a porch and comfy cushions. We'd have a pool at both places and my place would be all white. Because well, Pinterest makes all white houses look totally practical and beautiful all at the same time. Between reflection and actual hiking we take many pictures of us jumping in the air. After about thirty snaps, where we get two of us actually in the air... 

Exercise done, legs shaking, you're in need of some food. This whole routine may be counter productive, but it feels good all the same. I often have brekki at home, because you eat out a lot here. It is sort of justifiably acceptable to eat out a lot here, because food shopping can be pricey. And eating out can be slightly cheaper than at home. Errrm, any old excuse I know. And sometimes we are rebels and eat out for brekki too..

We then head to a coffee shop for some writing. We often talk about what we want to write, more than we actually write, but either way we feel productive. I have an attention span of a gnat so often find myself writing for thirty minutes and then doing life admin for ten, then blogging for twenty and then back to the script writing for another fifteen. We make plans, we drink things like a matcha late (a wank stain cliche I like) we discuss the next days hike, we remember we have lines to learn for an audition on Friday, have a panic and start reading the script. The phone rings, it's the agent. You have another audition, but it needs to be in South African. WTF... I do not have that one on my CV, sorry, resume. Erm, Saaath Afrrican? Ok, yup sure, I say with pretend confidence. Got it. I panic. I go through the phone book, is there anyone I know that is South African and then I curse that I do not have more diverse friends. Jeez. You Tube, that will be my saviour. Or as it turns out. District 9. Fantastic, entertainment whilst learning.

Once confident enough that the lines are in, iccent is aahh kay (that's my Saaath Afrrican, in case you were unaware) matcha chai mocha cino skinny late drank, we head home to get ready for whatever evening is planned. Usually dinner out, seeing other British people out here, cocktails or comedy gigs. Tonight we are heading to the Magic Castle. A castle where there is lots of magic, literally. And you have to dress up all glam... que... a must needed trip to the Melrose. Note to self... Budget! 

You go out, meet new people, talk a lot, listen even more, drink a couple of drinks, one if you are driving. No one wants a Linsday Lohan rep of D.U.I's. You head home and wake refreshed the next day for a quick hike (again) before heading to the audition, where as it turns out, they don't need you to do South African, your British accent will do. You smile so much with relief that you actually come away feeling good about the job you just did in the casting and you breath...

Now between all the plans and the writing and the doing there are moments... Moments that you get to yourself and you suddenly feel this overwhelming feeling of angst. It isn't all rainbow farts and glitter clouds out here. There are moments that your own ego get to you. I like being busy. Busy makes me feel like I have purpose and busy means I often don't notice any negative thoughts that might crop up in my head. But the moments in between can catch you unguarded. This town has a good way of doing that to you because you are usually so busy doing, that when you suddenly stop, it feels weird. Suddenly you are aware that you are far from your loved ones. The ones that laugh at all of your jokes and listen to all of your whining. The ones that you can fart in front of and wear joggers and crocs in front of, the ones that won't judge you if you do not do your eyebrows or you can say mean things in front of and yet they somehow know you're not a mean person. You realise you are far from the place where you can talk bout Kim K and yet your people still know you can talk about things that are far more stimulating too. You are far from a place where you don't have to talk yourself up all of the time, or explain where Slough is (Yes the place The Office was based) A place where you can sit on the sofa and not feel guilty about being outside, because, well, it's raining so of course you can veg out and eat ice cream in your pyjamas. In these moments you miss sarcasm, pubs, pavements that aren't broken, driving on the left, grumpy faces staring at you on the tube, TFL... 

And then you come to and the teeny moments where you feel lonely, subside. At the mere mention of public transport in London, you're back loving the sunshine, the hikes, the views, the sunshine, the kale, the coconut water, the roller blades, the clear blue skies, the opportunities, the business, the no work, the toy money and you slap yourself for not living in the moment and feeling sorry for yourself for that split second. 

Of course you are grateful to be here. Of course you love it. The lifestyle, the chances, the new people to meet, but I would be lying if I din't let on that their are moments of doubt and insecurity. Moments when you feel lonely. Times when all you want is to hug the person that knows you inside and out or debate with you're friends that know you inside and out. There are moments when you forget the journey you are on and want to recoil back into comfort.

But also in those times, you are fully aware that life begins at the end of your comfort zone. (Pinterest says so)