09 November 2014

The Elephant Man.

Matterers.
I don't know how many of you are around NYC.
But.
If you get the chance.
Get over to the Booth Theater and take in the Elephant Man.

I saw it in previews today.
And folks.
Friends.
It wrecked me.

In every way a play can wreck someone.
It irrevocably changed my life.
And the tear factory has not stopped some 5 hours since the curtain fell.

I knew the story.
Did my homework.
Had seen the movie.
Knew what I was going to watch.

Until...
I didn't.

::Here I will pause to also chastise the women in the mezzanine whose cellphones went off no less than 6 times during the first act - SERIOUSLY?!::

#bringmannersbacktotheater

But back to my "world will never be the same."
My eyes started leaking almost immediately.
Like.
Cue Bradly Cooper in man form.
And in a matter of statements from Dr. Treves.
Cooper contorts to lead the show.
With a depth.
And a breadth.
And an indomitable energy.

And maybe, what really tore at me.
Was the photograph.
In which.
You can clearly see.
In the right eye.
The man that existed in flesh beneath what we all labeled the deformity.

I spent most of act one, snot dripping from my nose, trying to put my finger on exactly what was tearing at me so viscerally.

Cooper.
Clarkson.
Killed.
I mean.
Like.
I DIED.
It was so good.

I spent all of act 2 in tears.
Full blown.
Hiccupy.
Sorry everyone around me tears.

And here is the best I have:
Inherent to his story, is the fundamental feeling that ---> We all want to be seen.
We all want to fit.
And to belong.
And in the beginning, when he's not talking, but rather, just moaning,
I heard him.

And the overwhelming emotion that the base feeling of wanting to belong.
Was primal.
Goading.
Ever Present.
Terminal.

And somewhere.
Inside of us all.
It lives.

For sure.
Inside of me.
Inside of my 300 pound self.
Inside of my 200 pound self.
Inside of my 164 pound self.
Inside of my psoriasis self.
Inside of my everyone hates me self.
Inside of my world would be better without me self.
Primal.
Belonging.

And inside of this self.
The most authentic self I have.
I belong.
In the best way.
And maybe they were, in the end, tears of joy.
For the belonging that John Merrick finds.
And the simple love that he find.
That Bradley portrays in such a simple, nuanced way.

I find myself already longing to be back.
If only to see the first act without the stupid cell phone rings.
And the Long Island ladies behind me who "love Bradley Cooper, but hated silver linings playbook."

Do me a favor.
And here me when I say, YOU MATTER.
JUST AS ARE.
Because you do.
And you are so loved.

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30 September 2014

Sometimes. Some. Times

Ya'll.
Seriously.
Ya'll.

It's been months.
And I'm not really sure why.
Or how that happened, but it did.

Matterers.
I hope you know.
You don't stop mattering, just because I'm not around the old blog.

I've been teaching.
And hanging with my incredible network of friends.
Therapizing - but not in therapy, my therapist moved to Santa Barbara, so we'll connect again soon.

And living.
Like.
I mean.
Really living.
3rd Grade life is busy and fun.

Most importanly, ya'lll.
Third grade is fun.
Like tons of fun.
This crew of explorers and learners challenges me in all the best ways.

Most of my friends and family are pretty certain that I've lost my mind in commuting 2 hours to be a part of Les Mis again, but the truth is, while rehearsals have been long, it's also a wonderful experience.

Since the closing of my crossfit gym, I've working out at Healthtrax and I love it.  Rowing daily on my rower in my classroom.

And living.
I went hiking recently with some family and friends.
And I we ran to the top after a 2 hour trek.
As we reached the top, laughing and pushing to be first - yes like we're seven.
I put my hands on my strong thighs and said, "I can't take any of this for granted."
And the real deal is, I don't.

We get one, if we're lucky.  ONE EPIC LIFE.
We make mistakes and teach other, we live, we learn.
We dream about doing it better.
Sometimes we do - sometimes we'd don't.

But I'm passionate about not giving up, or giving in.

The truth is this.
You have to believe.
That you are as important as you are.
As we know you to be.
Stop putting yourself last.
And not just in the realm of weight loss.
OR eating right.
Because, ya'll.
I had Lobster Bisque for dinner tonight and I'm wicked proud of that.

And I had challah bread.
And while you're busy trying to love your little self.
The broken bits.
The hard bits.
All those kibbles and bits.
Let other folks love you too.
Trying to love yourself by cutting everyone and everything else out - isn't really loving yourself.
They are there.
Those kind voices.
The ones who know exactly what you need to hear.
To feel.

I was talking to one such voice late in the morning yesterday.
He works full time in NYC, and is currently in Law School.
Die, right?

Anyways, he laughed at one point.
And said, "If I don't say it enough - I couldn't be prouder to love you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means, I'm proud of you and I love you."

I smiled into my phone, like he could see it, and then thanked him.
"Thanks for seeing me.  Especially on the days, I can't."

Matterers, I see you.
You matter so much.
And you are SO SO SO loved.




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02 August 2014

Dang.

You All.

You remember this post ---> Month of Love #14 - Theatre

Read it.
Scroll through it.

But this is the important part:
"After my finale, I found myself at the Exit 7 Players stage.Waiting to sing On My Own.In front of people I didn't know.
And I thought then, as I do now.Judge away.I'm not here to knock anyones socks off, because I probably won't.I'm here to sing.To prove to MYSELF that I can.
And so.I did.Quickly.And exited upstage and out of the theater.
And truly, truly truly, that moment was enough.Just to sing.And have a few people say that was good, as I exited.

 But my story doesn't stop there.One call back later, Wonder Woman and Shakira and I were shopping for Prom Dresses in JC Penny.No, seriously.Wonder Woman and Shakira and I.
And our Director phoned.To offer me the part...Of Eponine."

----

Since that incredible experience, I've been chomping at the bit to get into another show.
And by chomping, I mean, I've showed up to no less than 7 auditions.
And paralyzed with fear, never got out of my car.

That all changed last week.
I got out of my car.
Took my Number 144 and got in line.
Sang On My Own.
And left.

This arrived today:
"Hello Jami,I am pleased to offer you a role within the chorus ensemble of Theatre At The Mount’s Fall production of Les Mis."

---

So.
THAT'S HAPPENING!!!!!!!!!! :)

Since playing Eponine, I've longed to sing some of the awesome Ensemble numbers I missed - Master of the House - Lovely Ladies - Etc.

So.
That's HAPPENING!!!!!

Little steps.
Towards change.
Create Opportunity.
Why is that so hard for me to remember? 


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29 July 2014

F.

We are taking a break from our regularly scheduled programming to send a prayer and some love to one of my most favoritest summer friends.

'Sup Farahn.

This gorgeous gal is about take the Bar.
Pass the BAR.
The NY BAR EXAM.

She may not know it yet.
Because.
Well.
Officially speaking, studying for the BAR exam makes you cray.
Like, cray cray.

And you rock a bitch face 24/7 in the days leading up to it.
You fein strength in the face of adversity.
Answer C when it's C.
Think A when it's not.
And generally seek the solace of a quiet room and caffeinated beverages.

But.  
Ya'll.
Something you need to know about F:
She is.
She's got this.
She's gorgeous.
And smart.
And ready.
And unsure.
And ready.
And nervous.
And thoughtful.
And tired.
And did I mention ready?

So, F?

Go get 'em, guuuuuurrrrrlll!

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22 July 2014

Ya'll.

Ya'll.
I needed this.
More than I can say.
Mankindproject
Thank you.
For this image.
And these words.

Because,
my worth is so much more than the size of my pants.
Or shoulders.
And even greater than my red blotches all over my skin.
MY worth.
MY well being.
Is stitched into the very fabric of time.
And it sits securely,
fastened to my past,
tethered to my future.

Evolving.
Changing.
Growing.


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