canon

Doing enough...

I woke up yesterday feeling impatient, uneasy... lost. I realised I haven't been keeping account of my trip. Not even with pictures. Usually I can at least rely on a million selfies or ootd posts. But I have been slack. I cannot fathom why. The overall 

consensus

 I came up with is that I cannot be having a great time. If I am not taking pics of the fun I am having then perhaps I am not having fun at all???

But the thing is, I am. 

Its difficult because, I'm not exactly doing much. I have had a few auditions. Not as many as I would like, but I think no actor ever does feel 

completely

 content with audition spec. I have been reading pilots, throwing around ideas to write a pilot. Blogging once a week. Eating, drinking, meeting up with people. My Mum asked me, if your not really doing much, are you experiencing it at all? It was a question that stung. I mean... I am experiencing it. I have hiked, a lot. I have seen beautiful sunsets on beautiful beaches. I have drank red wine and talked long into the night with new friends and put the world to rights with old ones. I have spent too much in whole foods and I have worked out in the park surrounded by palm trees. I have got used to driving on the right side, drank dozens of coffees, eaten so much kale I am pooing green poos, gone to the puppy shop and sat with puppies for a long while. I have peed in the sea for christ sakes. I have driven along the PCH singing to Taylor Swift and sat in endless coffee shops pretending to work, sending one e mail every 2 hours. I have been shopping on Melrose when I shouldn't have been, I have met people in the industry with countless advise and met new people with countless stories and I have been creating memories. Sort of. I say sort of, because this isn't a holiday. This is life. And generally, day to day life can seem mundane. It's simple. It means waking up at 8am, faffing on whats app, e mails, instagram. Heading out to exercise, eating brekki, having a shower, getting ready, taking a selfie, (lots of selfies) posting one on insta and deleting the rest. You head out and you help your friend with a self tape and then you head for lunch and a drink and then meet another friend for a catch up. Sometimes you have an audition and other times you go to the coffee shop and write. You have a million and one things to do, but can't quite fathom what they are unless perhaps, your driving. Then you remember every single thing you have ever had to do, wanted to do and should be doing. You arrive home to realise you now can't remember all of that stuff you had to do... and you sit faffing for another couple of hours before deciding what to do for dinner. You are experiencing, living, out here in another country, but essentially, that isn't overly exciting to other people. BUT, it isn't a 9-5 job doing a job I don't want to do. I am not having to do that for a short space of time and for that I am so very grateful. So even if I am not bungee jumping into shark infested water, or having lunch dates with Ryan Gosling, I am still experiencing LA. (and I am not complaining)

The downside to no work, is that money runs out... and it will run out, and I need to get proactive. I can't lie that thoughts of stripping have gone through my head. I kid... sort of. Selling your eggs pays well -_- Life out here costs. Well life anywhere costs. A car, excessive rent, acting class, food (cocktails) It all adds up. The best idea I have had is to give up booze, Save the calories and the pennies. 

My body and wallet currently do not know what has hit them. I need to save both. Maybe writing this in print will give the the motivation to stick to it. Maybe I should give up booze for lent. A week late is better than not at all right? Jesus won't mind. 

My panic yesterday resided with the fact that I am not doing enough. Writing enough, taking enough pics, blogging enough, instgramming enough, being productive enough... I know for a fact I need to take one step at a time. But what comes first? And with no routine, all of the above seems horrendous. This place has a habit of making you feel like you are possibly not doing enough because everyone else is apparently doing... well, everything your not. 

So... I take a big breath and breathe... sort out a plan of action, make a list and plan my life. 

But first... lunch!

Leaving on a jet plane...

Don't know when I'll be back again.

I've said my goodbyes, I've eaten and drunk myself into a coma, nearly. I've done the shitty prep. The tax return, the ironing, the washing, the bank transfers... Hair torn out, sleepless nights and I'm done. I'm nearly ready. 

I've dreamt of this sort of trip for a really long time. Since I was eleven and I played Blousy in the school play, I've wanted to go to Hollywood. And then I'm at the airport... And I can't feel anything. Well, none of the feelings I thought I might. I take a deep breath. Remember this moment. Be in this moment. Pinch myself, fart, do something to recall this exact moment where I am sitting on a plane, about to fly across the ocean, to another country, for three months. 

We can tweet tweets and state status's. Post pics on instagram of how amazing life is right now. Because it is. It's freaking amazing. But... Honestly. This moment suddenly feels bigger than me. Suddenly the intensity of disappearing for three months, spending a lot of money following a dream that is so fragile and unsteady, being away from friends and family for longer than I've ever been away from them ever... Suddenly I think I may have not just farted, but sharted instead.  

The moment feels bigger than me, because it is far beyond anything I can comprehend, but also, so right and obvious that it would be part of my journey, that essentially, I feel like I am dreaming. People keep saying things like 'good luck superstar' and 'see you when you've made it' and part of me cannot process the thoughts. I know people are rooting for me. Excited for me. But I feel pressure. Pressure to come back with a star on the Hollywood walk of fame, pressure to be in Titanic 2, pressure to be on cribs, or become bessies with Kimye... Yes I said Kimye. I have a slight panic... and then, I have a reality check. This is just about having an adventure and experiencing a life I wanted to experience since I was eleven in Bugsy Malone. It's just a little part of my journey. A snap chat of an existence based around a dream I had of heading to the land of opportunity. It is just a stepping stone onto whatever else is next in my life. 
I could meet Brad Pitt for christ sake and become his third wife, hey... Brandgelina might even adopt me.

As I came to the end of my adventures in LA the last time, I reflected on the five weeks that had been, and shit myself that that five weeks had been and gone in a flash. We plan and prep and look forward to such events and more often than not concentrate on the lead up far more than the actual event itself. Always forward thinking, always planning for the future. Even whilst I have been here the last couple of days I have caught myself a few times, wondering what it is going to be like when I arrive home. I've had to stop myself from the panic that I know may ensue. The sheer overwhelmness of coming back to the real world like a deer in head lights and keeling over at the mere mention of grey skies, rain and the London Underground... No no no I cant do it...

I'll be honest, part of me is freaking scared. I'm scared/anxious/worried of a million things that I don't want to mention. I'm worried of coming back and everything being the same. Worried that I will always look at the price tag on clothes, that I will return to a day job I don't like, that I won't be content, that I won't book regular work, that I'm following the wrong dream, that I will somehow disappoint people if I don't come back with a blockbuster movie deal and stories of how Elton John massaged my feet whilst Emma stone bought us shots and I am worried that 'I' will come back disappointed that Elton didn't massage my feet or I didn't do shots with Emma Stone.

A teacher said to me once that worry was the egos way of protecting itself from the pain they believed was coming their way. 'If I worry about the plane crashing, or the boyfriend cheating, or the lack of job I have or the five things off my list that I didn't do' then when all of those things happen, I will not feel as bad about them. I will have predicted, prepared for said shit to hit the fan and there for when covered in said shit, It will not phase me, perhaps I wont even smell it. It turns out... I was wrong! Just because we predicted being covered in feces, will not make being covered in poo any less traumatic. Instead you will have spent hours, days, weeks, months, in a negative, shitty (mind the pun) state of mind, to inevitably, what is SHIT anyway and will not BE any less SHIT because of said prediction. My teachers shortened version was... 'Worrying that the plane will go down, will NOT make it any less painful when it does'

As an actor, you get asked such questions as, 'When's your big break then?' Or 'You want to be in Easterners right?'or 'When are you gong to give up?' And I would quite like to ask... 'When are you going to give up your day job?' There is no definitive answer. There is no, (If I don't come back with a job in Curly Sue 2 or Fast and Furious 12 then I quit) This just is it... and no worrying otherwise will help.

These are the days... THE days, the ones we look back on and go 'Sheeet, I did that, I went there, I met them...' Those days are now . Brene Brown (my own personal Guru) says that the difference between people who resist joy (grumpy fearful people) and the people who accept joy less grumpy fearless people), is that the people who accept joy practise gratitude. Horrendously, practising gratitude was not built in me innately. It wasn't that I was ungrateful, it is just that my pattern was to focus my energy on the crap that went wrong that week, or the things I didn't get done and it was less easy to focus on the small little things that happened that made my day/week wonderful. 
So now I have the 'ten things I am grateful for' list and it helps me remember to enjoy every second because... these are the days!