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When I blog, I am usually at my computer, facing East, facing the window that gets the most sunlight at 10:30. I am listening to Pandora, and I am usually alone. If it's a Monday morning, I hear the gardeners for the building whack the weeds and blow the leaves. If it's a Monday afternoon, I hear the little boy who lives next door run to his door after school, with his mother laughing behind him. If it's Monday evening, I hear the wheels of a suitcase from the guy coming home to apartment 102.

I am alone. And yet, I am not alone.

I am surrounded by people who care. I am surrounded by over one hundred yous. I can't see you, I've never met you, and yet, you will read the words I write and you will care.

You will care.

The fact that I don't have to do anything except be myself and share my successes and my fears, and you'll still be right here, right next to me, is a type of love that is new in this digital age. It shouldn't feel real, it shouldn't feel like avatars and usernames are real people who love me, but it does. It's funny, isn't it? Through sophisticated science and technology, I can put my thoughts and feelings into words, get it translated into binary code, send it out through the cable lines, and feel a connection to people who are not in my room, not in my apartment, not in my own personal world. And yet, through blogger, can feel connected to all of you.
 
01001100011011110111011001100101 spells Love. Funny, right?

I felt alone last Friday. I do not feel alone now. You've been here all along. Rooting, hoping, supporting. I just couldn't see it. I can see it now.

I think every artist feels alone. What artist hasn't put up some type of show, some type of painting, some piece of their soul, only to be rewarded, praised, admired, when the artist herself can only see the mistakes, the things she would have changed if she could, the things she wants to fix. She doesn't see the same things everyone else does. She doesn't see art or success. She sees garbage and mistakes. At some point, the artist has to let go of her fears, let go of her inner critic, hear the things being said to her and just listen and accept.

I need to listen, I need to accept, and I need to be proud of everything I've achieved. This is hard. But by golly, I owe it to my invisible support system.

I owe it to you.

Can I thank you enough? Probably not verbally, probably not by writing, but I can thank you and show you my gratitude by accepting your praise, your compliments, your support, and keep on doing this.
You believe in me? You believe it's just a matter of time? Well then, I will be patient too. I will believe in me too. And I will keep on plugging away and getting closer and listen and accept that my support team believes that I can do this and believes that it will work out.

Thank you, The Skirted Wordsmith, Kerri Moseley-Hobbs, Marc, Kevin, Shay, Kate @ Manhattan Actress, Zuri, kelsey., Ophelia thinks hard, Angela, The Kid In The Front Row, ACTRESS CONFESSIONS, Cool Henderson,  Brandi Ford, and to the several people who posted anonymously. It takes a lot of time and effort to write the things you all did and I'm very thankful.

And a big thank you to this Anonymous poster who then, unfortuantely, either felt they were too harsh or embarassed by the words that they said, fearing I'd take it in the wrong way because there's some great things here. So I'm posting it:

your feelings are justifiable and not wrong.
but maybe that's the issue. not your acting skill, but your feelings that are affecting your attitude.

you've got the skill and in many cases you've got the validation from others. but here's the thing. this is a business. we're not curing cancer, we're not saving the world, we're entertaining people and selling stuff. period. sometimes we get money for it. sometimes not.

you say that's not good enough. why am i not on tv? why is it so hard to pay my rent? why am i not going out more? why can't i get in front of TV CDs?

because you can't. that's life. why is there always traffic on the 405? because there is. does it open more doors and give you more opportunities to pity yourself? does traffic move faster when you're feeling sorry than when you're not? maybe. only you can answer that.

but the two main things i came here to say are:
1. what WOULD be good enough? do you have specific measurable goals and a plan of how to get there? or are you just living life based on the kindness of others to give you a job, say something nice, offer you an opportunity. are the expectations you've set for yourself really for you? or for others to fulfill for you?
(try dallastravers.com or another career coach if you don't have a clue as to what i'm talking about)

2. quit. go ahead. please. get out of the running so that i don't have to compete with you. because, i want to book the job and it will make my job SOOO much easier if you're not there to compete with me.
(does that comment piss you off? it should.)

all of the above is said with more love than could possibly be expressed through a blog comment...
I love Paragraph 4. Why am I bemoaning the fact that I can't get in front of the casting directors I want to get in front of? BECAUSE I CAN'T. So what am I going to do to help myself? That was a question I didn't even come up with because I was in such a sorry for myself funk. I missed the obvious question that helps get everyone out of the self pity state! What am I going to do to help myself? I can't go any faster than I can on the 405 at all hours of the day, but I can take Sepulveda, I can take Coldwater Canyon, I can go to 3rd Street Promenade and just enjoy being so close to the ocean until I'm ready to go home. I can do other things to fulfill me while I'm still doing this!

And then there's Point 2 that Anonymous makes. I read it and I wasn't angry. I wasn't pissed off. Because after reading the first word, my gut reaction is, "Well, I can't quit." I won't. Then the parenthetical - did that comment piss me off? No. It didn't. Because I want you to book the job too. I want you to book the job too!

And then the last comment - so incredibly superfluous, because I knew you wrote the whole thing with love, I could feel it.

I could feel the love from EVERY commenter.

In my post, I had asked other struggling actors to tell me of their successes so I could help feel a part of something bigger than myself. Instead, the largest Cheerleading Team Ever busted out their pom poms and cheered ME on, reminding me of my own successes.

This, this is bigger than myself. This connection to the world, to all of you, is bigger than myself. And I feel it. Boy, do I feel it.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
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