So here’s a fun story (and by fun, I mean awful).  When I take photos in my apartment for all of those DIY projects I do, I usually have to take them on the fire escape because it is literally the only place where there’s any decent natural light (the joys of an airshaft-facing apartment).  So no problem.  Here’s where I do all my DIY-ing:

A little crazy, I know, but we have to do what we have to do.  And most of the time, it works.  But you know when it doesn’t work?  When you go out onto the fire escape in the winter with no coat and no keys to your apartment and you let the door close behind you.  That’s when it gets a little tricky.

Okay, here’s what happened.  I went out with my camera to take some photos.  I thought I left the door ajar.  I didn’t.  It was cold and kind of drizzly, but I had shoes on, so I started walking down the stairs (I’m sure my mom is wishing she never saw this post).

I made it to the bottom, and then realized that not only did I not have my keys, but I also had no phone and no money.  So I tried collect-calling Mr. Lovely.  It didn’t work enough for me to get through, but it worked enough for him to know something was up.  So I walked into the diner next door and begged them to let me use the phone, which they did.  I called Mr. Lovely and missed him, but thanks to the wonders of Caller I.D. he called the diner right back and I asked (cried) him for some assistance (please please please do something to help me).

I went back outside to wait by the pay phone in case he needed to call back, because I had figured that the folks at the diner were kind of over the homeless-looking girl running up their phone bill.  So somehow Mr. Lovely got a hold of our Super, who happened to magically be around the corner, who showed up right at the moment when it really started to rain.

So Super Nick walked me back into our building and gave me keys to get into the apartment, and I have never, ever, ever gone out on the fire escape without keys, money, or phone ever again.  xoxo

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I don’t really make resolutions or goals for the New Year, because I do that here.  But in 2012, this is sort of the way I’d like to live my life.  xoxo

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Letters of Note recently posted an amazing letter from John Steinbeck in response to one from his son, Thom.  Thom wrote his father about a girl at boarding school, with whom he thought he had fallen in love.  Steinbeck’s response is absolute beauty.

New York
November 10, 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First—if you are in love—that’s a good thing—that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second—There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you—of kindness and consideration and respect—not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply—of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it—and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone—there is no possible harm in saying so—only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another—but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

  {Image.}

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1.  Despite being what I consider to be relatively intelligent, I always have to recite the “I before E except after C” rule in my head when I write out words like “receipt.”  Every time.

2.  Also on the recitation list: “Righty Tighty, Lefty Loosey,” whenever I screw or unscrew anything.

3.  When I take my first drink of soda from a can, I hiccup one time.  It’s like clockwork.  And kind of painful.

4.  I’ve had two successful careers — one as a choral music educator and one as an actress.

5.  The entire right side of my body is ever-so-slightly bigger than the left.  I use this as my scapegoat for the fact that I have awful balance.

6.  Diet Pepsi (not Diet Coke).  Dogs (not cats, unless it’s a kitten).  Sour gummi candy (not chocolate, although Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are one of the world’s wonders).

7.  I have a hard time keeping still.  I tend to wiggle my feet back and forth, especially in order to fall asleep.

8.  I grew up on an almond ranch and therefore know how to irrigate an orchard, saddle and ride a horse, operate a four-wheeler, and feed various farm animals.

9.  I always always always wear rubber gloves when I’m doing the dishes.  This makes me a fearless and highly effective dish-doer.

10.  I’ve been to 38 of the 50 states, and it’s a goal to see them all.  Although I’m going to have to be coaxed into Alaska.  Along with Alaska, still missing Arizona, New Mexico, the Dakotas, Kansas, Oklahoma, Mississippi, Delaware, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine.

BONUS #11! I absolutely love love.

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I would like to focus on working from the inside out, rather than the outside in.  In the theatre, your product is yourself.  And you see products walking and talking and dancing and singing all day long, and it’s the easiest thing to slip into comparing your product to the products around you.  It’s easy to mimic, to imitate, to rip off, to stack yourself up against the other products and see who comes out on top.

But isn’t that working from the outside in?  Shouldn’t it be the other way around?  Shouldn’t I just feel how I feel, and let it come through whenever I sing, and then it will be true and real?  That’s what I want.  That’s what I want to focus on.  People are smart, and people can smell falseness a mile away.  I want to walk into a room and give you me — pure, unadulterated, awesome, emotional, talented, wonderful, imperfect ME, stretching for miles until you can’t see any more.  I don’t want to walk in and sound like the girl before me.  I don’t want to try to be her.  I want to show you me, and I can’t wait for the day when the time is right, and I walk into a room and be me, and me is exactly what they’re looking for.  xoxo

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Ladies and gents, I am coming to you straight from the line at my local post office (the wonders of the smart phone), where I am witnessing four grown adults absolutely shouting at each other. They have lost their cool. I don’t know the circumstances, but the general gist is that one man cut in line to ask a “quick question,” which then turned into a 15-minute exchange with the teller. So naturally, people started flipping out.

Now, I’m not saying this is a novel experience for me, especially with all of the personalitites you come across in NYC. I’m not even trying to say that I never lose my cool. I guess I’m just wondering what these screaming people would think if they saw a playback of this whole ordeal. My best guess is that half would be unmoved, and half would be embarrassed. I know that if I saw myself treating another person the way that they’re treating each other, I’d be absolutely ashamed.

Moral of the story? Who knows. Maybe it’s just that we’re all people who are trying to accomplish things while we weave around and through other people. We have to share space and resources, and if we’re all shouting while we share, no one’s gonna hear anything at all. xoxo

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You know what’s fun?  Being a newlywed.  People still congratulate you and want to see your rings and ask whether it feels different now that you’re married.  It’s great!  It’s like this little cocoon of love and goodwill that follows you around.  And I’m sure that after a while, it’ll fade, and then I’ll just wish that he’d turn his stupid socks right-side-out before he puts them in the hamper.  But for now, I am fine with the socks and with everything else.

The whole sock thing, though, does bring up another point — when you’re living with someone, what about those little habits that start to come out that just make you nuts?  I mean, I really do think that our life together is just peaches and cream, but sometimes there are those teeny tiny habits that you just can’t seem to overlook in your better half.  Luckily, we choose to laugh ours off and work to better them (for the sanity of the other one), but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.

If I had to guess, I would say it drives Mr. Lovely bonkers when I leave my DIY projects half done and laying around everywhere.  Not kidding, there was a piece of posterboard with a pile of glitter on it just laying on our floor for three days straight last week.  Right in the middle of the floor.  Probably also my obsessive need to make the bed first thing every morning is a little crazy to him.  That, and the fact that I almost never – and I mean never  - refill the ice cube trays.

When it comes down to it, though, he gets used to refilling the ice trays and I get used to turning the socks right-side-out.  Because hopefully, you look past the tiny shortcomings and see the life that you’re making together, and see that it’s good.  Piles of glitter and all.  xoxo

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You know, I take a lot of garbage.  Or at least it looks that way.  To the untrained eye, it probably seems like I walk away from fights, avoid confrontation, and let people trample on me a bit.  That’s my cover, ya see.

My mom and dad taught me an invaluable lesson when I was young:  Let people say or do what they will, be it untrue or rude or slanderous or any similar distasteful adjective, and then quietly work hard and persevere, until everyone forgets about the rude person anyway.  The amazing thing is — it works every time.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been frustrated with someone taking advantage of me in some way, or with some nasty frenemy, and by floating above it all, watched them implode in a mess of self-indulgence while I come away smelling like roses, clean conscience and all.

This maybe sounds a little preachy?  Pompous?  I dunno.  I don’t mean for it to.  I only mean this:  If you want to attack me, attack.  If you want to copy me, copy.  If you want to be rude, knock yourself out.  You will only find me continuing to do my thing, happy as a clam, while you fret and fuss and burn yourself out with your own bad vibes.  And in the end, I’ll still be here, and you’ll be long gone.

xoxo

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As my sister and I were growing up, my mom would always do this thing where she wrote down the crazy things we said as kids on little scraps of paper, and she added them to our baby books.  Because of this awesome tradition, we now have some absolutely hysterical documentation of us as little kids.  The other day, my mom came across some that had been misplaced and never made it into the baby books.  She sent some to my sister and I for laughs.

My big sister is awesome.  xoxo

1982
Audrey’s getting a shot for kindergarten.
Mom:  ”Audrey where do you want your shot, on your arm or on your hip?”
Aud:  ”On you.”

1983
Audrey: “Chelsea, I always wanted you.”
Chelsea:  ”Yeah…I like your hair.”
Audrey:  ”Thank you.”
Chelsea:  ”Let’s be buddies.”
Audrey:  ”Ok.”

1984
Mom:  ”Audrey, eat your dinner.”
Chelsea:  ”Yeah, Audrey, eat your dinner.  Am I supposed to stay out of this?”

1984
Chelsea tracks dirt all over the porch with her boots.
Audrey, sweeping it up, “I’m Cinderella.”
Chelsea, with feeling, “Why Cinderella, you’re not dressed for the ball!”

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Happy is a personal blog, started in 2008.  It was originally on Blogger, but I thought I’d bring it over here to Lovely Indeed for those of you who are interested in knowing a little more about me.  Happy tends to focus more on little daily occurrences and random musings, along with lots more about my life in the theatre world.  Come back here often to read about life in the big city and all of the crazy thoughts that swirl around my head.

Oh, and be happy.

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