Exhale.

So there's been a lot going on lately.  All of which I think is for the best.  I usually don't make difficult decisions if I don't think they're the right thing to do.  Never is it my intention to hurt anyone, but sometimes you can't help it.  Just as when you clean your bedroom - things get messier before they get cleaner.  

I have no doubt that we'll smile together in the future once again, but the goal for now is to just exhale.

Italy

It all started a few months back when I was presented with three options for my Christmas vacation. The first option was to spend it alone in Tilburg. Ney. Not a legitimate option. The second option was to go to Scotland. WOW. I would love to go. And then the third option I was presented with was to go to Italy. Guess what I chose.

Don't get me wrong, I will make it to Scotland one day soon, but I just couldn't resist the pull of Italy, the land of extra virgin olive oil and a really big boot.

Today started with a worried night yesterday. The Netherlands and Belgium have had some intense snow storms which knocked out the trains and cancelled a ton of flights yesterday. Needless to say we were worried about today. After deciding to take a train that would give us eight hours to get to the airport that was only 3.5 hours away, I went to bed at 3am. After a few hours of sleep I woke up fairly early to learn that a part of the train tracks in the Netherlands was not running trains through, so we would have to go an alternative route which would get us to the train station in a little less than 4 hours. Problem number one.

My Italian friend and I met at the train station and took the train to Brussels. We had to transfer 2 times. The trains were just about on schedule. From Brussels we took a crowded coach bus to the airport which was about an hour away. RyanAir likes to have airports far so that customers have to work to get there. It seems to be a common theme with that company.

After arriving at the airport three hours (or more) early, we waited. And waited. And waited. The screen that displayed all of the flight information never seemed to show our flight to Venice-Treviso. We asked and were told that the flight was a half hour late. Okay, whatever that's cool. It's not like the world owes me anything so what's the point in feeling down about a little delay...right? Well that half hour delay turned into an hour and a half delay. Always attempting to stay positive, I just smiled and continued to people-watch.

It was dark out by the time we boarded the plane and finally took off. Flying time to Italy was estimated to be an hour and twenty minutes. Awesome! That's soooo fast. I could never fly to Italy in an hour twenty from the States. Anyway, about an hour into the flight the pilot came over the intercom and annouced that we were circling the Venice-Treviso airport waiting for the snow to clear. He said it would be another 50 minutes until we can land as long as the plane doesn't run out of fuel. That was reassuring. We waited and waited in our little seats, hoping for mother nature to pull through. A flight attendant came down the aisle and talked to a neighboring passenger, telling her that we might have to land in an alternative airport if the weather doesn't clear up. Oye Vey.

Finally I feel my ears pop and realized that we were descending. Cool. I watched in awe (as I always do from my seat behind the wing on the right side of the plane) as those multi-million dollar wings flexed their muscles and stretched toward the Earth, allowing the air resistance to push the tail up and the nose down. We were about to land.

We couldn't see the ground until we were very close to the runway because of all of the snow clouds. Down Down Down. We couldn't have been much more than a hundred feet off the ground ready to land when I see the wings rapidly straighten and the engines roared intensely. We were going back into the air. Oh shizer.

This was the first time that I've been in a plane where the pilot missed the runway. Oops. A flight attendant came over the intercom and announced the miss-approach, saying that it was a very common thing. Yeah right. Five minutes later the pilot came over the intercom apologizing and saying that "a cloud got in the way."

By this time about 3 babies were wailing at the top of their lungs and a LOT of Italians were talking real loud with their hands. The pilot said we would try again. "Flight attendants prepare for landing." Down down down. Now I could see the runway coming. I held the seat in front of me, somehow knowing it would be a rough landing. I just had this feeling that no matter what, the pilot was going to try to land and not back out of this descent because of self-pride. We touched down going VERY fast and everyone started to clap. I didn't because I knew the landing wasn't over. The plane took an exceedingly long time to finally stop once we hit the ground. (I think so that we didn't slip on the snow). It wasn't until after touchdown that we realized how much it was really snowing. I turned and looked at the girl sitting next to us as she wiped away tears in her eyes. Wow. She was legit crying. People were really scared.

As I was about the exit the plane the pilot stepped out of the cabin. He paused after stepping out and looked at the flight attendants. This is the part that blows my mind. He displayed a sly Scottish smile to the flight attendants, and then mumbled some words to them. I couldn't hear exactly what he said, but it was something to the effect of "oops."

I couldn't help but smile as I walked down the steps onto the runway. I was in Italy! And there was snow on the ground. Lots of it. My friends' father picked us up in his black Honda and we navigated through the city of Treviso. Although there was snow on the ground, it still looked pretty beautiful with lots of greenage and hills. We arrived at a really nice house where you have to put a code into a keyboard in order for the gate to open to let you in the driveway. For dinner we had some authentic passata di fagioli and salad. It tasted so good following that adventure. After dinner I got introduced to my bed for the week and to a bathroom with a bday (not really sure how to spell bday, but it's the thing that you stand over that shoots water up your butt to clean it) (no it doesn't replace an enima) (yes, they did find some in Sadam Husseins palaces when they raided them).

I'm looking forward to an adventurous week in southern Europe (ç:

Okay, so here's the story...

Think of the phenomenon that occurs when you are sweating. Why do you sweat? Usually it’s because your body is attempting to cool down. We are constantly sweating, some people more than others, in an attempt to reach ideal bodily conditions. But how do we get to the point where our bodies decide to trigger the mechanism that allows us to cool down? Is there a climax in this situation where our bodies just say, “screw this” and stop sweating? Perhaps that climax is passing out or death.

I suppose it’s good to sweat, but not too much. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a good sweat every now and then? I hate to quote the “I’ll take money to endorse anything that exists on this planet” celebrity Mario Lopez, but he recommends that everyone break a sweat every day. And I think that’s a good thing to recommend. Sweating is sort of a way to flush your body out. In with the old, out with the new. Yesterday I went to the gym and I sweated. A lot. I loved it. Tonight I’ll go to the gym also. I plan on sweating like crazy. Feeling the beads of sweat roll down my body is most excellent.

Life can be looked at in the form of intervals between sweats. Ups, downs, purgatories, you name it, there is a low point that moves to a high point and then back to the low point to start all over again. Everybody gets to those high points and low points in different ways, different time intervals, and with varied amounts of recovery emotions. Just like sweat. I feel different things every time I sweat. I even get my body to sweat in various ways: by exercising, eating spicy foods, chilling in warm weather or a sauna, and by getting nervous in various situations.

I arrived to the Netherlands on August 21^st, 2009, and my life has since been through many cycles. This is a weird, yet most excellent country and there are so many similarities and so many differences from what I’m used to back home in the northeastern United States. Yeah, of course there are times when I decide to curl up into a little ball (about the size of the allowed piece of luggage on a Delta flight)(Not to be confused with a Ryan Air flight, where if you have size 10 shoes or bigger you are guaranteed to have a most uncomfortable ride)(but it was cheap)(and Ryan Air sells a calendar with its flight attendants in bikinis)(what other airline does that?)(Weird Brits) and close my eyes to reveal the inside of my bedroom back home. I am able to walk to my bed and sit on it. Then my cats come in the room and jump up on the bed. I love my cats. Whenever I’m sick, they know it and then they do their best to purr the sickness out of me. While I’m in my room I look around and see what the bookshelves, desk, and posters have to offer. OH – look what I have hanging there – it’s Jefferson Starship’s “Gold” album. “I love that album,” I think to myself, “although, if I loved it that much, why do I keep it caged in that picture frame for all eternity?” Then my eyes move to my bookcase, where the book “Sex, the Whole Picture” is sitting next to my collection of Neil Simon plays. Now you may think I’m a pervert for having that book, but I was never meant to keep it, I swear. I threw it in as a gag during a “Secret Santa” event (or maybe it was some type of Hannukah event)(Oh yes, that’s right, we opened presents after playing ‘Pin the Yamulkah on Channukah Harry’)(Now it all makes sense) and the person opened it, everyone laughed as planned, and then low and behold I am the one stuck with the book in the end. But not to worry, that book has gotten some very good use. One time, my extended family came to town to see a show that my brother was in and my Grandma felt sick so she decided to stay at my house during the show to pass the time. I left her that book to remind her of her younger years. I heard she quite enjoyed it, actually.

After reeling through some memories of “Sex, the Whole Picture,” I decide to close my eyes as my head rests on my leopard print sheets. It’s still a mystery why I continue to sleep on those sheets, being an animal rights activist and all. I suddenly hear a noise and open my eyes quickly.

Oh. Oh yeah. I’m back in the Netherlands. What night is tonight? Oh. Oh right. It’s Tuesday; time to go to the dumpiest club in town to dance the night away. “Just make sure you don’t get too drunk,” my hands say to me, reminding me of falling of my bike that one time, leaving me with red palms for a week. Oh wait. It’s not really Tuesday? It’s Sunday? My, how I get my days confused here! How unproductive am I when I can’t remember that it’s not party day? Oh well – better go get some dinner from the miniature rooms they call grocery stores (Don’t forget to bring your own bags). I start walking out the door when one of my fantastic housemates reminds me that it’s Sunday. Oops. NOTHING in the Netherlands is open on Sundays (except a few legs in the Red Light District). I guess I’m having pasta again. Perhaps I’ll plan out my next trip now.

Unfortunately I haven’t kept up with this blog on a consistent basis. I know – it’s been a long while. The plans were to write daily or bi-daily, it didn’t really matter – as long as the writing was consistent. But I could have never predicted the way I felt when I got here, or the few weeks or months after. The chemicals in my brain(s) were going crazy and couldn’t decide what they wanted to do or how they wanted to make me feel. So now is my attempt to catch up on my writing life. This experience has been unreal and it should be documented (although there are some things that I really shouldn’t write about). My head will never be completely clear or my mind completely sane, but I plan to be competent with my writing.

This post has outlined a few topics that I plan to cover in the future. Some of those topics include:

· My departure from the US and Arrival to the Netherlands

· “High” points

· Spicy foods, and how my diet has changed.

· Points of depression

· Points of non-depression

· The spelling of the word Hanuka

· Being sick

· Love for my family

· The LG, and many nights of partying

· My housemates

· Bikes

· Supermarkets

· Classes

· Trips

· General thoughts on the human brain

·

There are many more topics than this that I can and will cover. I am in the Netherlands until June 2009, so I have time.

Farewell for now, and I hope to receive some Fig Newtons from you in the mail (the original fat-free ones)(please).

A thought for the day

Disturbing dreams can truly break one's sense of highness and happiness.

What's goin on?

Soo, a little autobiography of the past month of my life. Not that you want to know or need to know or care to know.
I quit my job at the school system to have more 'me' time and more time to do auditions in hopes that I'll be booking more gigs in the entertainment world. I do miss the kids that I was working with. Sometimes I have weird dreams about yelling at them because they won't shut up or something but for the most part I had the opportunity to work with some really awesome children.

So the question is - has anything happened since I quit that job. Well yes and no. I'm holding off on joining SAG because 1.) it's a ton of money and 2.) it's probably smarter to hold off on joining until I have a real role in something good. My time will/maybe/should/hopefully come for the right day to join, but for now I'll be union-free, or non-union as the huffy-puffs like to call it.

I'm being sent out by two agents on stuff - one for theatrical and one for modeling. But most of the gigs I'm getting are through self-submissions, which is fine. So many people think that once they have an agent they need to stop self-producing and self-searching for work and let the agent do everything for them...WRONG. I think you need to work double-hard so that the agent knows that you are super-commited and working and getting stuff and they will be more inclined to submit and send you out.

Anyway, a few months back I shot a little NYU short which was fun. Haven't gotten a copy yet as it isn't done being edited. I've been having a number of auditions weekly. Many are for shorts. Today and tomorrow I'm shooting a short. Then next weekend for two days I'm shooting one also. I also booked one that is planned to shoot in late July which I am very excited about. I had/have 3 auditions this week(just got back from one that went well - we'll see what happens) along with filming.
I'm doing so many shorts for a number of reasons:
1)because I can
2)because they're fun
3)I like doing them
4)Good food(mostly)
5)experience
6)To get a reel together. A lot of times people wouldn't be able to get auditions for certain things without a reel that the casting director can see a sample of your work through.

Yeah sometimes it's a pain to commute to NYC and stay with people and do pro-bono work, but I figure that the more I put into something, the more it will pay off. And I'm having fun, so I can't really complain. I'm just very lucky that I have such a support system and good friends and family that help me when I need help.


Everything is about all set for going to the Netherlands in August. Everything except for my mindset - which I'll get over and adapt to I suppose. Hmm..."what will be the hardest part about leaving for the Netherlands?" people ask. I say "missing my cats."

Hmm

I apologize for my last post, sometimes I get bad road rage.  I'm looking forward to seeing what "bike rage" is like in the Netherlands.

THANK YOU DPZ-8817

Thank you New York license plate DPZ-8817 for parking so unnecessarily close to me at the train station today.  I really enjoyed climbing through the passenger side door of my crammed car.

YOU ARE THE BEST PARKER IN THE WORLD!!  I BET YOU FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE BIG NUTS NOW DON'T YOU CHODE?

Don't forget to flick this booty-wipe off next time you see him.

The real Southpark kids

Dutchland here I come

I arrive in Amsterdam on August 20th, 2009.  It's pretty much official - I just have to prostitute myself a few times more so that I have the exact amount needed for airfare.  Can you find Tilburg on the map?

Thought for the day

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did in his sleep - not screaming like the passengers in his car.