Facebook. The Creature Itself.

I recently had a pretty big life event occur, so of course, Facebook was the first to be informed.

This turned out to be fairly wise, as many major life decisions can be difficult to spread to everyone immediately and depending on their nature can be down right awkward to discuss. That's not to say that awkwardness was entirely avoided. Thankfully not everyone is consistently glued to their Facebook and actually still need direct human interaction to be educated about the current state of their friends' lives.

For the most part, I was pretty grateful that Facebook was there to aide me and my now ex in a transition that was already quite difficult and extremely long. It meant we didn't have to discuss it with a huge amount of people and were able to keep professional things professional and friendly things friendly, which was exactly what we needed.

What I didn't expect, and what was pretty unsettling was Facebook's reaction. I'm not talking about my personal Facebook community, I mean Facebook, the creature itself. It was no shorter than my very next log-in session after my relationship status had been altered that I noticed my advertisements for Netflix and life insurance had been changed, without any sort of finesse whatsoever, I might add, to available singles web sites.

Really, Facebook? I understand that you're an intelligent series of algorithms that is wired to cater to me and figure out my specific demographic based on what I like and ignore and what precious little information I choose to share with my community (like the status of my current romantic relationship), but by that you should also very well know that I had been in that relationship, unchanged since I first began my account with you in 2008 (and in reality, the relationship actually began long before that) and you're already hitting me with internet dating sites? Jesus, Facebook, have some Goddamn class. Even (mostly) every dude I know laid off the creep factor for a very respectable amount of time. But not Facebook. Facebook has no shame.

While the singles ads have been unsettling (and quite persistent) what's been more disturbing to me is the rapid increase in weight loss tips and weight loss drug advertisements. I should hope most of us now know that it's not just Facebook that can figure out who we are and what we want out of life (or what they would like us to want, more accurately), but it's the whole internet. But that's a rant post for another time...

This weight loss business concerned me for a variety of reasons. Having never really been a single adult before, I'm still figuring out how all of this works. Do all single women want to lose weight? Do all men want single women to lose weight? Am I now deemed more vulnerable to the weight loss ploys because I don't have a boyfriend to constantly tell me how rockin' my bod is? Is self-esteem and confidence assumed to only come from one's significant other? Where are the ads that promise me a bigger butt? Why do they all refer to "One weird old tip"? And why is belly fat the root of all evil everywhere? I have so many questions!

I suppose this all came to me as a surprise mostly because I was filled with a myriad of concerns when my life changed drastically. There was a huge priority shift in most aspects of my life. Weight loss was not one of them. Housing. Friendships. Moving. Second guessing decisions. Judgement. Family. Paying Bills. Moving. Division of shit. Moving. Thirty day notices. Heart Break. Moving.

The last thing on my mind was how much I weighed, or which single men were available to me online. In fact it's pretty rare that women with countable ribs or men who post selfies make me swoon for any reason. My theory is that Facebook casts a wide net though, because they did hit one thing pretty right on.

Shoe ads.

Well played, Facebook creature. Well played.

Body For LIFE!

Disclaimer: Any dude or dude-minded (such as myself) readers may find this post tedious and a little mushy at times. The only comfort I can give you to urge you to continue reading is that this post does contain many mentions of all sorts of body parts, mostly female, because that's the kind of body I have, so I feel like I know more about it.

This post is NOT about the book that shares it's title, which my Uncle bought my Mom (who was quite insulted) for Christmas one year. It's kind of a P90X lite. In other words; it's slightly less ridiculous than P90X, which is probably one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard of. The only people who should dedicate their lives solely to working out three hours a day and planning meals down to a half a calorie are body builders, and maybe models, but I have a feeling their jobs have little to do with what the general population considers as "health".

The inspiration for this post came from a conversation I had with my parents after I may have had a little too much to drink: meaning the Mom sensor was turned off. My parents were kind enough to drive me to a Christmas party after I had a show one night (in truth, it was a pornament party- you know, a party where you bring a stack of porn and a bunch of ornaments and make pornaments, naturally). But I really didn't want to take a cab, so I kept my wits about me enough to not mention the true nature of the party to my parents.

In any case I was in the car and something like this ensued:

Mom: How's directing for Red Light Variety Show going?

Me: Great! I think. B (We'll just call her B for this purpose, because she has a bodacious booty) has a couple pieces in the show, which I'm stoked about because she's amazingly talented and has a booty for miles. It's amazing.

Dad chuckles, Mom is quiet for a moment

Mom: (In accusatory tone that only Moms can use without really realizing it) Do you think B would approve of how you're talking about her butt right now?


Me: Um. Yeah, she'd be flattered! She has an amazingly large and incredible butt, she should be proud, and is. She'd be more offended if I didn't talk about her butt.

Now, aside from this not really being typical Mom conversation (which, if you heard any given snippet of any of my Mother's other conversations, this is actually fairly tame) I was actually a little shocked. Mostly because I had clearly made my Mother slightly uncomfortable by blatantly discussing a body part, which never happens. My Mother likes to bring up the nature of erections at my Catholic-side-of-the-family reunions.

So I'm trying to figure out if this is a generational thing or if it's a demographic thing. I was simply discussing the nature of a particular booty. Fairly objectively (as you may know, this is not atypical for me).

For my research, I present to you: Life experience: This past summer I was teaching Jr. High School students (that may terrify you, if all you have to go on my personality is this blog, but take solace in the fact that it's theater summer camp). As we were warming up one day I was giving my usual, "Reach down to your toes, if you can touch them, great, if you can't, be grateful of your great long legs this morning and know that your body and what it's capable of will change every day. This is your report card. I have short little stubby legs so I can usually touch the floor." And a sweet, sweet (albeit, incredibly strange) young lady looked at me and said, "NO! Your legs are beautiful!" Very sweet, right? But I never said my legs weren't beautiful. And who ever told that little girl that short and stubby couldn't be beautiful? My legs kick ass. I can walk for miles and not get tired, I can get going fairly fast on my 70's cruiser, and the ESMP seems to like them just fine, never mind that short legs means I've got a torso for miles (again, some people may consider that "not beautiful" but they should check out my rib isolations. It's fascinating).

My problem is this: Talking about one's body objectively often brings in consoling and a soothing tone of voice that is something along the lines of, "No, no... you're a very pretty young woman." Well I FUCKING KNOW THAT! I never said otherwise! B was relating a story to me in which she was talking to a friend about how she couldn't wear a particular brand of pant because, "Well, I just have a lot more down there than you do." and her friend responded with, "Oh... no! B, you're beautiful." It's a non-sequitor. They were discussing pant brands NOT beauty.

All and all, I'm pretty sure this is a demographic thing. I'm fascinated by human bodies. It's absolutely amazing to me, that (generally speaking) you get to chose from two types of bodies: Lady part body or dude part body. So really, I have the same body as every other lady part body BUT I DON'T! Not even a little. I like it when you find "part twins". I know a couple girls who have matching noses, a couple dudes that have matching brow-bones, but everything else about them is entirely different.

In short: Biology is awesome. Bodies are awesome. But the real kicker for me lately has been figuring out what this body is capable of on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I won't be climbing Mt. Everest anytime soon (I like my body, why would I do that to it?), but I try to do one thing a day that I'm not entirely sure my body is capable of, just to see if I'm surprised. Like standing and going into a back bend. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't, it hasn't looked graceful once yet, but it sure is fun to try. Call it six impossible things before breakfast, or whatever you want.

A Good Year

Around the end of December I start seeing Facebook posts pop up that say things like, "Fuck you 2012! I can't wait for you to be out of my life." Or, "Good Riddance to this year!" I understand, I suppose, it's part of welcoming the New Year in: shunning the previous one. Not only that but acknowledging that we are looking forward to the possibilities of a fresh start and noting all the things, places and people we left or were taken in the year before.

I have to be honest though. I had a pretty killer 2012. It's not the first year that my income produced from theater work (to be clear, that's not JUST acting. A majority of that is teaching) outweigh my "other random stuff" income, but this year it tipped the scales pretty heavily.

I thought I'd take a moment and reflect upon the huge variety of projects, shows and performances I was lucky enough to be a part of this year.

January-April: I toured some Shakespeare for high school students all over the state. I've mentioned the content of awesome of which this tour is filled, and this year was no different. We toured Macbeth, terrifying and inspiring children all over the state, bringing Shakespeare to people who wouldn't have an opportunity to see it otherwise.

Sadly, my computer crashed shortly after the tour ended, so I have very few photos from this tour (we took upwards of 1000).

April: Me and My Shadow. This show was unlike anything I'd ever done and it was pretty terrifying. Written by a good friend of mine with whom I went to college, working with many of the tour cast, plus some other favorite colleagues from college, designed by good friends and performed in a space that I'm slowly starting to realize is becoming my home as a performer, this show was for an improvisational experimental music festival. We had a nine piece band that underscored much of the production, live projection VJs, and a whole lotta weird. So glad I had the experience.

Also worth noting: Stage handing for Red Light Variety Show. More on that later.

I feel like photos like this is generally why people thing performers are weird. They're right.

May and June: I began rehearsals for my first main stage show at a company I've been working for since I graduated college in 2009 and have been wanting to work for since I saw one of their show for the first time in 2000. Pretty rad. Oh, and teaching. LOTS of teaching.

You can't quite see it, but my hair looks amazing in this shot.

July: TEACHING. SO. MUCH. TEACHING. I taught 3-5 year-olds Shakespeare for the first time. So that was... Well, it was. Also. A play reading at the end of the month for the show I ultimately directed in September.

August: MORE TEACHING. And another reading. This one written by three good friends of mine based upon the Lewis Carol poem; Jabberwockey. We had a fantastic turn out, great response and a really wonderful time.

Post show discussion. Sadly, you cannot see how sweaty we all are. We turned off the AC for the reading.

September: Rehearsals began for The Basement Company. A show that a previous roommate and friend wrote as a one act dark comedy. This show was really important to me, largely because it made me realize what incredibly talented, kind and generous people make up my co-workers and friends. So many people went pretty far out of their way to help me on this project, with very little gain for themselves, and I will be eternally grateful to all of them.

Again, worth noting: Another stage hand gig for Red Light.

October: You guys. I can't for the life of me remember this month. And I have no record of it. WHAT HAPPENED?!?

November: A really ridiculous and ambitious notion that I would write one blog post per day of this month that failed pretty miserably. You are welcome. Also, a surprise offer of performing in Breadcrumbs, with Alley Rep. Another really wonderful experience. The smallest cast I've been apart of and some really interesting text.

December: I began "directing" for Red Light Variety Show. The quotations are there because Red Light is my first experience directing something that doesn't have a script. And that's weird. It was certainly a learning curve, but a really enjoyable one. I mean, it's a bunch of people taking off their cloths in funny, sexy and talented ways, how could that not be anything less that fun?

Red Light is pretty near and dear to my little always-clothed heart. I have a lot of respect for the ladies (and gentlemen) that perform with them. The range of body types they exhibit, the confidence they have and the courage to honor the burlesque tradition is just inspiring. They all have normal bodies, that are all completely different, and all completely beautiful, and they know it, which makes them the sexiest theater group in town, for sure.

So. That was last year. Thanks 2012. Well hi there, 2013.