Candlelight

I often have the sense that I am in the wrong time period. Keeping up with technology and the latest ideas on how to lead a good life keep me in a whirl. How am I to possibly read newspapers (with a critical mind, trying to keep in mind biases), exercise, keep up to date on friends Facebooks, practice singing, practice monologues, read new plays, read for fun, do something for me, listen to my favorite podcasts, fix my hair, do up my face, learn all the things my mac can do, call friends, work, look for a job, and all the other little things I would like to accomplish everyday?

When I first began having panic attacks my brother said, "Today the world moves so fast and sometimes we just can't process that quickly." This summed up what I was feeling and still feel often. Sometimes sitting down at my computer can be completely overwhelming.

• Task 1) Check email and reply to emails that have recently been sent...continue putting off the other ones that should be replied to.
• Task 2)Lets be honest, check Facebook. Look at any new things related to me, look through news feed, recently updated photos, posted items, and status updates. Either become completely distracted and waste valuable time looking at people's pages I haven't spoken to in ages or cut myself off early.
• Task 3) Update Twitter (a recent addition)
• Task 4)Start reading newspapers, become led on a trial of investigation because to my chagrin I know very little on world politics and can never keep who is mad with who straight. This often brings me to Wikipedia where I can get very lost in clicking on related topic buttons.
  
• Task 5) OH! I should have been listening to my latest CD this whole time better open up Itunes...oooo the latest Wait Wait Don't Tell Me...maybe I should listen to that! Which reminds me...I should practice my guitar and use that How to Play Guitar Podcast...but its more important for me to practice my singing or my monologues, which reminds me I should read some new plays today and see if I can find some new monologues...But I have even started checking my blogs!!!!!!

And this is how it goes.

I think of a time when you day was mostly defined by when the sun was out and news of the nation got to you only as fast as a guy on a pony. I think of when visiting your neighbors in the afternoon was what our Facebook messages or cellphone calls are now and the tension in my shoulders drop a little bit. Whew! A pace I can get my head around.

Alas, its time for me to go eat some organic fruit and practice yoga before I need to read some books on acting techniques, look for Christmas presents on line.....and.....and....and...

When you can't count on your hands

Being the daughter of a mathematician, at the beginning of every year I could see the eager twinkle in my math teachers eyes, which seemed to say "finally the math brain I've been waiting to teach."

Oh, poor souls.

I believe this idea of career knowledge being passed down from parent to child is left over from the days when parents actually did teach their children their trade. Today in a world where you "can be anything you want to be--when you grow up," such transference of skill and experience is not passed on.

Don't misunderstand me; I was never horrible at math. I struggled in the beginning but once I mastered my times tables I was on the road to a consistent B+-A- math career. Yet, my teachers unspoken hopes' that I must share the same passion for math as my father really turned me off from the subject.

I'm of course interested in hearing what latest problem my dad is working on, or how math plays such a key role in the research Ben's doing. Percentages, I believe are the most important math skill I learned as I use it daily. But more than this, I really don't have much interaction with math. But something happened two days ago.

I was playing Scrabble with two friends and I had been keeping score. At the end of the game, I decided to challenge myself to add the scores in my head. The same feeling you get in your muscles when you walk after having driven for 7 hours and can almost hear your muscles thanking you...that's what my brain said when I added these numbers in my head. The annoying mantra "if you don't use it you loose it" streamed through my head. I realized I have not been exercising my math muscles. I thought of my dad, whose field is math, but who exercises his literature muscles all the time.

It has become clear to me that its time to dust off those weights and start getting the numeral workout I need.

The whole in my heart the size of Pachelbel's Cannon

I have always had the feeling that everyone in the world was one step ahead of me. I have the blessing and curse of being a daydreamer. Sometimes I slip so far into these dreams I’m unaware of what is going on around me and I have to play catch up. In certain aspects of my life, I don’t believe I ever come out.

Hindsight is 20/20, no? We look back and wish we had cherished time with certain people more; memorized the exactly look of that building, face, tree; or hugged for just a few seconds longer. One of my biggest struggles throughout life has been my inclination towards nostalgia and from that regret. It’s easy to regret those moments when you weren’t paying attention, but how can you regret the moments you were trying to cherish?

I spent 7 years as a student at the Springer Theater Academy in complete awareness that my experiences there were by the minute shaping me as a person. I fully understood the meaning of focus during those summers as I tried my hardest to remember every word my teachers said, lesson I learned, game I played, and friend I made.

I know that my journey in life had to take me away from the Springer. I still believe that for the benefit of the Acadmey, it was important for new teachers to be welcomed into the family. It was not so easy to go away, though. My first summer “away” I managed to spend 2 amazing weeks as the world’s oldest intern. The next summer, I was only able to stop by for a day but I need even just that day to recharge my battery. I have tried to wean myself off, but the truth is its still in my system and will be for good.

Every summer my thoughts turn the Springer and the people there. When I see pictures of Salutations, presentations, and the banquet I still cry and feel a great whole in my heart. The weirdest part is to know there is a new generation of Academy kids, who don’t even know who I am. The kids for whom I interned are going off to college and becoming TAs themselves.

As I see the the Kara Feltons and the Alex Willises grow up I can’t help but think that they were able to appreciate their time at Academy in a way I never could. And a part of me is jealous that these young actors have a spark about them that ignites a passion for theater and life in those around them that I’ve always felt I’ve lacked.

Unfortunately for anyone who never went through this program, words can never describe the experience of growing up an Academy kid. How do you put into words, that the 8 weeks you spent each summer between 6th and 12th grade defined you more as a person and in more ways than even you are aware of than the months spent in school.

I have had the pleasure now of teaching with two different summer theater programs. In each program kids were exposed to theater and perhaps learned something. But each lacked a certain magic that happens in the summers at the Springer.

My heart is aching for Academy, for the chance to be a student and do it better this time

What's red with ridges and prominent at college campuses?

What's red with ridges and prominent at college campuses?

The Solo cup!

I thinking the other day, and proceeded to discuss with some friends: do you think the Solo cup company embraces their association with college keg parties? Or are they constantly trying to think of ways to make their image more "family friendly."

Can't you see them sitting around a desk:
Guy in suit 1: "People we've really got to clean up our image. Any ideas how to separate ourselves from the college crowd?"
Guy in Suit 2: "I don't know! I really thought introducing the Blue cup was going to turn things around for us, but they just latched on to that too!"

Haha, oh silly Solo cup suit man.

If they are trying to distance themselves, I hope they change their minds. Because like a mullet, that bright red cup is the American symbol for PARRRTTAAAYYYY!!!

Love Piles. Oh Yeah.

There was an eHarmony commercial a while back with an adorable older couple who were pictured laughing and snuggling. The woman says, “He just adds to my love pile everyday.” I just love this idea. I would have said image; however, I think everyone’s love pile is different. Mine is quite fluffy. It sort of resembles cotton candy; except it’s not sticky and if you were to jump into it you’d bounce around. Also, it is purple.

I like to let people know when they’ve made my fictional pile bigger. I think it lets the feel appreciated. But I’d like to take this idea a step further. What if my love pile floated overhead like the mushroom lives in Mario Bros.? Fluffy little mounds would be added or subtracted based on people’s actions towards me. This way you’d know immediately if you hurt my feelings or made me happy. Hopefully you’d make this into a game: who can add to Becca’s love pile the most. Of course it would not pick up on disingenuous acts, so take your false flattery somewhere else!