Author: Amelia

This is probably the question I get asked most often. Short answer: a sh*t ton of water. I carry a BPA-free water bottle with me wherever I go (probably something everyone should do, especially during these brutal LA summers) and my favorite thing about my water bottle (made by Contigo) is that it has measurements on the side of the bottle so I know exactly how much water I’m drinking every day. (Health note: To figure out how much water you should be drinking divide your body weight by two and that’s the minimum number of ounces you need per day, adding an extra 8oz. for every workout and every cup of coffee).

Now, there are times when water just won’t cut it for me in more social situations, so I’ve compiled a list of my favorite drinks for different scenarios!

1) House Parties: I love a good, friendly get-together, but when I started sobriety, I was never sure what to bring when the invite stated “BYOB”. I felt weird bringing a bottle of wine or a case of beer that I obviously wasn’t going to drink, luckily the tasty brainiacs over at La Croix came up with the perfect solution. I’m OBSESSED with this sparkling water. It comes in cases of 8 or 12 cans, so it’s easy to carry and the packaging always adds a nice festive touch. The best part is the variety of favors. Right now, my current favorite it “Cerise Limon” (cherry, lime), but they offer everything from plain seltzer to standard lemon or lime to grapefruit (another one of my favorites). The drink is zero calories and naturally flavored so you don’t have to worry about added sugars and fat, and each flavor has the perfect amount of sweetness. Though, it’s my favorite drink to bring as my date to any party, it’s pretty much my go-to for every situation.

2) Bars: I love being social and I still love going to bars, even though I don’t drink. Actually, I probably love going to bars more now because my tab at the end of the night doesn’t cost me an overdraft fee on my debit card in the morning. The tricky thing about going to bars as a sober person is that you burn out a lot faster. If I go out around 9pm, I’m usually starting to get a little sleepy before midnight. This is when I let myself have a sugar-free Red Bull. I know, this stuff isn’t the best for me, so to avoid having a heart attack, I only have one, and I nurse that one for pretty much the entire night. When it’s gone I switch back to club soda. This is also the only situation where I’ll drink soda. I’m a big fan of cherry coke, so ordering a diet soda with a pinch of grenadine gives me that indulgence I’m craving.

3) Dinner: My favorite way to socialize usually involves stuffing my face. Before sobirety, I LOVED the pre-dinner cocktails, especially in LA where it seems every bar/restaurant is constantly competing to have the tastiest, most unique drink on their menu. I’ve found that most places can make just about anything “virgin-style”, and they are still totally delish. I’ve started asking for craft-style lemonades wherever I go and the bartenders are usually up for the challenge. (Bonus: if you’re with a group of drinkers, most of the time the restaurant won’t even charge you for your virgin cocktail, I don’t know why this is, but I’ll take a free drink any day).

4) Dinner Parties: Another favorite. I love hosting dinner parties and cooking for my friends, but that inevitably means that everyone brings a bottle of wine to contribute to the festivities. The real kick in the groin for me is that I’m allergic to apples (which I take as further evidence that I was actually Snow White in my past life), so I can’t drink the cliche sparkling cider that is every parents’ go-to for the kid’s table at Thanksgiving. So, this is when I break out the fancy ginger-ale. I don’t really like the standard grocery store, soda version (too many flavored syrups and bad sugars), but I LOVE ginger beer (specifically, Bundaberg Ginger Beer) . The biggest difference between the two is that gingerbeer is fermented. Traditionally, ginger beer did contain small amounts of alcohol, but now-a-days, the majority of brands do not contain any. Because ginger beer is fermented, it has a much stronger, gingery flavor and it also contains some healthy bacteria, which aides in digestion, making it the perfect companion for another social gathering in which I stuff my face.

5) Brunch: Bottomless Mimosa Brunches are definitely a thing, at least in these parts, and saying no to a $10 all you can drink special in a fancy champagne glass, can be a challenge. I recently discovered the BEST alternative for this situation… Elderflower. My five-year-old best friend has been going on and on about this stuff for about as long as I’ve known her, so I finally decided to give it a try, and let me tell you, the kid was right. Most restaurants carry it to use in different cocktails, but I order it with either sparkling water or lemonade and it adds a wonderful, festive sweetness to my fancy brunch outing. You can also get elderflower lemonade at some grocery stores and liquor stores now, so I keep a bottle in my fridge for whatever special occasion may arise. (My favorite at the moment is Belvoir Fruit Farms Elderflower and Rose Lemonade).

So, there you have it. What to drink when you’re not drinking!

(Editor’s Note: A BIG THANK YOU to the kind folks over at La Croix for sending me so many yummy cases to keep my fridge stocked for the summer!)

We never met, and that’s your fault, and your loss.

I was pretty excited about your project. Sure, the pay wasn’t great, but the sides read well, and shooting an indie feature in Greece sounded like a dream. I worked a lot on those sides. I spent most of yesterday, learning the lines, then doing the book work, then rehearsing it on my feet in front of a mirror, then rehearsing with an actor friend. I made some really strong choices for this audition. I think you would have liked what I was about to bring to the table.

Unfortunately, you and I will never work together and you will never see what I prepared and here’s why: I firmly believe in that old saying “three strikes and you’re out”. Boy, oh boy, did you strike out today.

Strike One: After driving in traffic for an hour to your production office in Canoga Park, I was greeted by a very sweet assistant, who asked me to sign in on an iPad sitting on the counter. Your sign in sheet was more of a questionnaire and I quickly scrolled through and filled in each box, until I got towards the bottom of the very long page, the part that asked for my social media handles. I asked your assistant why you needed that information, and she responded “so they can see how many followers you have”. Her response made me sick to my stomach. Her response was everything I am against, it’s a major flaw in the industry. Her response made me feel like my talent didn’t matter, my 10+ years of training didn’t matter, my resume didn’t matter. “Why hold auditions in the first place?”, I thought,” Why not just cast straight from Instagram!”. When you blatantly judge an actor based on how many social media followers they have, you’re basically telling that actor “we don’t have enough money in our budget to promote this movie, so we’d like you to do it for us, for free”. Sorry, my degree is in theater, not advertising.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to take a stand. But, I had just sat in traffic for an hour, I drove all the way to Canoga Park, I spent most of yesterday preparing for this audition, I took a beta-blocker for Godsake! “I’m here. I might as well audition”. So, I took a seat in the waiting area.

Strike Two: After forty-five minutes of waiting, I started to get a little antsy. The girl who had been waiting before me hadn’t gone in yet, and there was no sign of anyone else in the building besides the actors waiting and the assistant checking us in. So, I walked over to the sweet assistant and respectfully inquired about the time frame. The assistant looked down at her phone and told me she had just gotten a text from the people holding the audition, and they were on their way back. Wait. BACK?! Back from what?! ….Lunch.

When you called me in for this audition, your email said to come anytime between 10am and 2:30pm, and there was nothing in there about a lunch break. I would have planned my day COMPLETELY differently had I known I would be forced to wait an HOUR while you took lunch in the middle of YOUR SESSION. You came up with these times, this is your movie, and your casting, you emailed me, and you didn’t think it necessary to inform the actors that you would be taking a lunch break between 1pm and 2pm? Clearly, you have very little respect for other people’s time.

Strike Three: As I sat again in the waiting area, now squirming with frustration, a gentleman walked in holding his sides. Your assistant couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough to greet him, she shook this gentleman’s hand and asked him to sign in. After he was done giving you his Instagram and Twitter handles (I bet he has a lot of followers), the assistant escorted him to a separate room, a waiting room just for him, apparently this person, though I had no idea who he was, was very special and could not be seen sitting with us “unknowns” in the unimportant section of your production office. I barely got done rolling my eyes at this scene when you finally walked through the doors, holding your soda cups from your hour-long lunch break.

Once again, your assistant came over to us. This time, she wanted to let us know that the very special gentleman was going to be seen first, even though he had just gotten there and we had been waiting for over an hour.

And THAT was my final straw. Three strikes and I. Am. Out. I informed the assistant that I was leaving.

I’ve never walked out of an audition before, today was a first, and it happened because I couldn’t sit there for one more second feeling like less of a person. You made me feel LESS than, and you should be ashamed of yourselves. I’ve never walked out of an audition because I’ve never experienced the level of classless, unprofessionalism, that I experienced today.

Moving forward with your creative endeavors, please consider actors as equals. We aren’t second class citizens. You aren’t doing us a favor by holding these auditions. I will not bow down to you or beg you for a job. I will not sway my morals to adhere to your conditions. I will not be made to feel less than.

Sincerely,
A really talented actor, with only 4K Instagram followers.

Yesterday, (4th of July), I caved. So shouldn’t I change the title of this post to “Day 1”? No. I’m not going to do that. And here’s why:

I went out with two of my girlfriends yesterday. We made plans to go to Venice and I offered to be the DD since Ubers were going to be overpriced and I wasn’t going to drink anyway, at least that’s what I thought when I made these plans.

I woke up yesterday and started getting ready for the festivities. As I was applying the perfect shade of red lipstick to match my red, white, and blue bikini top, I thought, “I’m going to have a beer today”. I made a conscious choice to lightly partake in the party atmosphere I was about to place myself in. I decided it would be a little bit of an experiment.

Last year, I day-dreamed a lot about what it would be like to come back from a year of sobriety. I envisioned myself being social and charming while holding a drink, ONE drink. The whole reason I went a year sober was to be a more responsible drinker in 2016, and as you all know, 2016 hasn’t really gone according to plan. I’ve been thinking a lot about why that is and I think it goes back to my beliefs in being present and accountable in the moment.

I’m finding it more and more difficult to plan ahead. It’s a challenge; to say you’ll do one thing only to find that you can’t or won’t follow through with it later on because well, plans changed. I’ve always been a planner, almost to a fault, and when plans fall through, I panic. I think one of the reasons last year was such a success was because I had a plan in place and to save myself from an anxiety attack, I refused to stray from the plan.

This year, I didn’t have a plan. I had no overarching theme for the year. I had no challenge. I was going wherever the wind blew. The tricky thing about that is, you don’t get to decide which direction the wind blows, and this year, the wind blew me backwards (I’m sure there’s a “that’s what she said” joke in there somewhere).

Yesterday I turned the blowers off (that’s what she said) and I decided to steer myself for a change. I had three beers over the course of eight hours and downed more water than I do in an hour long spin class. I was pacing myself, and it felt good. For the first time this year, I felt like I was finally applying all that I had learned last year. I didn’t feel the need to take shots or do a keg stand (and both those opportunites presented themselves at these parties I went to). I laughed and danced and sang along to “Hotline Bling” with my girlfriends. I ate my weight in fried chicken and crawfish. I met a boy. I had fun! And I didn’t need to get drunk to do it! Sure, I was drinking, but I wasn’t drunk-ing. I was present and aware of what I was putting in my body and I was able to limit myself, without feeling limited (except for that fried chicken, the struggle was real with that one).

As great as all of this sounds, there was one not-so-great thing about yesterday.

I smoked. And I’m really bummed about it.

I knew deciding to have a beer also meant fighting a very, very strong urge to smoke, but I told myself I could do it, and I was looking forward to writing this post to let you guys know that I managed to stay smoke-free even with a beer in my hand. I was so disappointed in myself that after I put the cigarette out, I went to my car for thirty minutes and cried on the phone to my sister. I felt like a failure. I failed you guys, who have been so supportive and encouraging through all my ups and downs, I failed my mom, I failed myself. I broke a promise to everyone and that feels absolutely awful.

But, leave it up to my sister to always find the silver lining. As I was verbally punching myself in the face over and over again, Megan grabbed my hands and told me to stop. She pointed out how terrible I felt about my bad choice. As my head was spinning from the nicotine high and the anxiety over how I was going to write about this, Megan brought me back to the present moment. “Next time you have the urge to smoke, remember how bad this feels”, she told me. In other words, next time that quiet, almost subconscious voice in your head says “man I wish I had a cigarette, maybe I could just have one”, consciously choose to remember these bad feelings so that next time, you make a better choice.

My sister has always been the smartypants of the family.

The whole point of making mistakes is to learn from them. We only fail if we stop learning because if we aren’t learning, we aren’t moving forward, we aren’t evolving, we aren’t bettering ourselves. It’s like that famous Einstein quote, that every girl tweets at least once in her life when she can’t get over her ex, says, “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again again and expecting different results”.

I’m not going to continue to smoke because I had one yesterday. I know what happens if I do that because I’ve been through this before and if I put myself through it again, that’s INSANE.

I’m a work in progress, we all are, the keyword in that phrase being PROGESS.

And that’s why I’m not going to go back to a “Day 1” mentaility. I’m on Day 15/Day 11 of progress. Through my one-year sobriety challenge and my now mostly-sober, definitely smoke-free lifestyle choice, all I’ve ever wanted was to be better, to be the best possible version of myself, and that means I’ve signed-up for a lifetime of present, conscious, wonderful progress.

 

Ohhhh… Check out the blog makeover! I really just brightened the place up a bit, but I’m proud of myself considering I’m about as tech savvy as Fred Flinstone.

Today, I want to talk about bodies. I want to talk about my body and your body and how we feel about them.

I’ve been on a cleanse for the last ten days. No, not a juice cleanse (please, that’s so 2012), a “flat tummy cleanse”. Basically, it’s a 14-day meal plan full of food that will add alkaline into your diet and take acid out of it. The book says that when our bodies become too acidic, that’s when we start getting sick and tired and bloated and, well, those things sound awful so I was all, “bring on the alkaline!”. I’ve stuck to the meal plan (even when it forced me to eat scallops at 6am last Thursday), but I’ve also snuck in some snacks here and there (like I literally just ate a bag of dried mango, and that is not flat tummy approved). I don’t feel or look much different on this diet, probably because I’m shoveling dried fruits and cubes of cheese into my mouth as I binge watch Game of Thrones every night. My point is, I’m trying to feel better in this sack o’ skin, and though my self-control is lacking, I’m figuring it out.

One bonus to giving up alcohol is all the good stuff it does for your body. I LOVED my sober body last year and I’m excited to get back to it. Why did I love it so much? Well, my skin was super clear and bright, I could run five miles a day (and enjoy it), I had a ton of energy, and I was skinny.

I know that sounds a bit shallow, but when you’re a twenty-something actress in LA and LA has decided that you fit in the “Bikini Girl #1” box, the pressure to stay skinny can be intense. To sum it up, I’ve been told about 100 times that if I want to work, I need to keep the weight off. (Terrible, yes. Shocking, no.)

Feeling that pressure was a big, if not THE biggest reason why I smoked for as long as I did. Though, alcohol makes you fat, cigarettes make you skinny. Cigarettes speed up your metabolism, and slow down your food cravings, so you don’t eat much, but when you do, it comes out pretty fast.

You can probably imagine what it’s like to quit smoking then. I won’t go into too much detail, but I will say the reason I bought this “14-day Flat Tummy Cleanse” book in the first place is because someone hash-tagged it on Instagram, “#foodthatmakesyoupoop”. Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, folks.

And I have been SO desperate to get back to the way I looked and felt this time last year. I’ve been anxious about going out in public and going to auditions because I’m legitimately concerned a casting director is going to ask me how far along I am.

How many times have you rolled your eyes reading this so far? Let me just say, I started this blog post a few days ago, and since then, I’ve learned a thing or two.

It all started on Monday night. Monday was a particularly warm day in the valley, and I don’t have air conditioning, just a ceiling fan, which, in this heat, makes my bedroom feel like the inside of a blow dryer. Monday nights are my favorite because by 8pm, the sweats are on, the licorice is out, and The Bachelorette is streaming. Due to the heat that day/night, I had to forgo the usual sweatpants and dig way down into the deep, dark corners of my PJ drawer for something a little lighter. The only thing I could find was a pair of ex-boyfriend boxer briefs (which ex they belonged to is anybody’s guess, really) and a very old, very loose, very see-through white tank top. I looked homeless, but being able to expose 80% of my body to that glorious ceiling fan felt better than watching Jojo and Wells kiss for the first time. By the time the show was over and my Bachelorette fantasy league score was tallied, Dub-G (my dog, Warner) was giving me the, “Yo, Ma, like you gonna walk me or nah?” look. I glanced down at my rolled-up man shorts and my raggedy old tank top and I considered putting a bra on but then I figured, “eh, it’s late enough, no one will spot me”.

Obviously, that was a foolish thought to have.

I walked outside and was greeted by a family of twelve (I’m not exaggerating, I counted). I quickly threw my arms over my chest and tugged my shorts down as they walked by. I was almost in the clear when I heard “Excuse me, ma’am?”.

“Shit.”, was my first thought and “Who you callin ‘maam’?!”, was my second thought. I turned around (arm still over chest area, dog leash in the other hand), and I smiled politely. “Would you mind taking a picture of us? We haven’t seen each other in a long time!”, the age-blind stranger asked me. There was a small army standing behind him so, I mean, what was I going to say? No?

All twelve of them pulled out their cellphones and started walking toward me as I began praying for a third arm, but the wise old lady in the group (there’s always one, isn’t there) had an “ah-ha” moment and suggested they just give me one phone and that person would be responsible for tagging everyone on Facebook. Good plan, Granny.

So, I take one phone in my left hand, while Warner’s leash rests on my right wrist and my right hand is clutching as much chest as possible (which, I thought would be a lot more considering I have man-hands, but alas, it was not). The group gathers on a nice looking set of stairs, Granny is in the middle, and it’s go time, which meant I needed both man-hands to hold the phone and take the picture. I bring my right hand up to the phone, unleashing any decency it may have been holding onto, and I take the freaking photo. The group thanked me, I gave back the camera, and I ran away, yes, literally (in fact someone in the group yelled out, “Wait! What if we need to re-take it!” as I was running and I pretended I didn’t hear them).

When I was finally back in the safe humidity of my own bedroom I started laughing and posting a condensed version of the incident to my Facebook status. Now that the whole ordeal was over I could enjoy the irony of the situation and chuckle at my own stupid, self-conscious brain that has been programmed to feel shame for my God-given curves. I realize I’m starting to sound like your super liberal aunt from Vermont, but bear with me, I have a point.

My point is this: NO ONE, not a SINGLE person in that gaggle cared that my nipples felt the need to say hello. There were twelve people, of all ages, and none of them said a thing or gave me a look or made me feel judged, not even for a second. I mean, they may have wondered if I was mentally stable, and they may have felt a small urge to offer me a real pair of pants, but if they did, they certainly hid those thoughts and feelings well.

That whole ordeal was in my head. I was the one making myself feel embarrassed and ashamed and inappropriate. I was the one wishing I had a baggy shirt on to hide my gut. I was the one worried about a nip-slip and wondering if the ten-year-old boy in the group was about to be scarred by a premature “birds and bees” lecture based on his interaction with the skanky dog-walker. I was the one tugging down those damn boxer-briefs, trying to hide my butt checks and the cellulite around them. WHY?!

Because I’ve seen and heard enough negative reactions regarding my appearance to force my auto-pilot function into assuming that anyone I interact with either thinks I’m fat or slutty.

AND THAT IS CRAZY!

After this self-realization, I ran to my bathroom mirror and stared at myself till I was almost in tears. I needed a quick, harsh reminder that my body is not a negative thing and I do not deserve to be told otherwise by anyone, including myself.

So, I left the house without a bra on! Ladies, TRY IT! It feels AMAZING! (Unless you’re running, then it hurts). So, my shorts were “too short”, who even gets decide what qualifies as “too short”? Probably a group of white men that have never rocked a pair of Daisy Dukes and felt great about it. So, I cheat on all my diets, a lot! I feel good about my progress and where I’m going, and at the end of the day isn’t that what all the Oprahs and Dr. Ozs tell us is most important, to FEEL GOOD!?

Phewwww…. Ok. End rant.

I guess, in conclusion, I learned two very important life lessons this week: Scallops should never be eaten for breakfast and bras are always optional.

 

I’m a few days into sobriety: the sequel, and I realized I left something out. I forgot to mention something that drew me back to drinking again, something that, I hate to admit, has continued even after I decided to go sober again. In fact, I’m doing this something right now, as I type.

I started smoking again.

I know, SO GROSS!

I never thought I’d be a smoker, growing up, I couldn’t stand the smell and would get instant headaches from second hand smoke. I remember quietly judging smokers I saw in my high school bathroom or walking down the street. I remember thinking “how can you do that to your body!?”

Then, acting school happened. Everyone in acting school smokes. I mean, I used to bum cigarettes from teachers during our class breaks. I made friends by smoking. All the cool kids smoked!

I clearly remember the first time I had a cigarette. I was 19, and had only been in LA for three days. One of my first roommates was a smoker. On the night we all moved in, we got an older kid to buy us some beer (totally against the rules, rebels), and about four sips into my Rolling Rock, my roommate announced she was going outside for a cigarette and she invited me and my other roommate to join her. I was the only one who had never tried it, so I thought, what the hell! I remember thinking, “there’s no way I could ever get addicted”, and “what’s wrong with just one?”. Well, kids, it’s true what they say in D.A.R.E. class, it only takes one.

Turns out, I really liked smoking, I felt cool (gross) and skinny (gross) and the combination of alcohol and cigarettes was a sweet one (gross, gross). It also always gave me something to do in between classes and on the weekends.

Fast forward to almost ten years later and I just made an appointment for a chest X-Ray. I’m not sounding the alarm bells or going into (full blown) panic mode just yet, but in the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a lot of pain in my chest and upper back, I’m easily winded or short of breath, I tire out a lot faster. These can be scary symptoms for someone who has smoked off and on for as long as I have, scary enough for me to book a doctor’s appointment and that was a huge wake up call. My family and friends have assured me that it’s probably “nothing”, but the fact that I thought “lung cancer, COPD, pleurisy”, as soon as the symptoms started happening was a big red flag (WebMD didn’t help calm those thoughts either).

My body isn’t getting any younger, and I only get one of these things, so it’s time I start being better to it.

Which is where you come in. I struggled a lot with posting this. I feel like a bit of a fraud. Last year, during my 365 challenge, I didn’t smoke at all. That was a huge reason why I decided to go sober again. It would be impossible for me to quit smoking if I were still drinking and I know that about myself. What I didn’t know, was that this time around, cutting out the booze wasn’t going to be enough. These two addictions no longer go hand-in-hand. I haven’t had a drink in four days, but I have had a pack of cigarettes.

I think what I need now is some more accountability. I need to make this struggle and my decision to quit public. I need to promise you guys that the cigarette I am smoking right now will be my last.

And it will be. I promise.

How many of you called that or at the very least thought, “oh man she should be sober again”, in the last six months? Yeah, me too.

There’s a few differences this time around. The biggest difference being, I don’t know how long I’m going to stay sober. My choice to be sober again isn’t about a 365 day challenge, there’s no end goal. It’s more an overall lifestyle change.

That being said, I’ve been thinking about future events that could make it difficult to abstain. For instance, my wedding. I can’t imagine not having a glass of champagne at my wedding. But then again, I’m nowhere near that day and I’m not even sure I’ll ever get there (although my psychic tells me otherwise),  and if I feel the need to drink at my wedding after not drinking for ten years, then maybe I shouldn’t be getting married. But, what do I know, I haven’t been this single since 4th grade so I should probably stop worrying about future nuptials and focus on the more realistic concerns I have with sobriety.

What about those really bad days? You know the ones I’m talking about. You blow a big audition and get stuck in traffic coming back from Santa Monica and you realize you’re an unemployed, struggling actor with a six-figure student loan debt, and a degree in Theater. Maybe that’s just me, but you get the point. The only thing you have to look forward to is a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and a pack of American Spirits, am I right? No. I figured something out recently that made this excuse to drink, null and void.

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Last year was the hardest year of my life. When I decided to go sober for a year, the universe responded by breaking my heart in every way possible. I dealt with almost too much last year, but when I came out of it, I knew I was a better person for it and I was grateful to have gone through all of it. This year, any and all of the drama I’ve experienced has been self-inflicted and alcohol-induced, and I’m not a better person, I actually kind of suck because of it. I would take life lessons over manipulated drama any day. (But like, hey Universe, if you can go a little easier on me this time around, that’d be cool too.)

Ok, how about this one. I’m turning 30 next year, and isn’t there some rule that says you have to go on a pub crawl in Weho for twelve hours that day while wearing a ribbon that says “Dirty Thirty”? I did a post last year about birthdays, mine more specifically. I talked about how the last eight(ish) birthdays before my year of sobriety had all been saturated with alcohol and bad life choices. My birthday during my sober year couldn’t have been more opposite and it was definitely my favorite birthday of my 20’s. And then this year, I went right back to alcohol and bad life choices, and woke up the next morning thinking “who the hell am I?”. That physical and emotional hangover is what planted the going sober seed.

I never, ever thought I’d say this, but I miss being sober. I miss going out at night and not having to take an Uber. I miss waking up the next morning and knowing whatever I said or did was 100% me. I miss not having to apologize for choices I’ve made. I miss the cheap bar tabs and dinner bills. I miss being able to “DD” for my friends. And I really, really miss my sober body.

I thought after my year of sobriety, I could be one of those cool cats who just has a glass of wine with dinner or a couple drinks with friends. I thought since I showed myself I was good enough without alcohol and learned all these lessons last year, that it would all carry over into this year when I went back to drinking. Nope. I basically picked up right where I left off in 2014, before going sober.

I think my relationship with alcohol is a little more “nature” and a little less “nurture”. I have a history of alcoholism in my family, which biologically, makes it a lot harder for me to be a “just-one-drink” kind of gal. I’ve said this before, but I think it’s worth repeating. I don’t think I am an alcoholic, but I know it wouldn’t take much to get me there. One positive thing, actually, probably the only positive thing that comes from seeing different family members struggle with alcoholism, is that I know what I don’t want for my life and I can recognize that drinking isn’t worth the negative affects it could potentially have on my goals.

So, there you have it. Presently Sober is back in full force. Maybe I should change the title of this blog to Permanently Sober?

 

 

I started writing a post on here today about all things acting and business. I like to think of myself as a pretty business savvy actor and I’m proud of the fact that a lot of my actor friends and acquaintances come to me when they have questions about “the industry”. A friend of mine posted something on Facebook today that inspired me to share what I’ve learned on a larger platform.

You guys are going to have to wait a few days for that post. BECAUSE…

As I was writing this straight forward, matter-of-fact, black and white post, my mind started to wander and I started to reflect and ask myself some really big questions, questions I’ve been asking myself for a while, and today, I finally gave myself some answers. (I spend most of every day talking to myself, in my head, in case you haven’t figured that out yet).

I was thinking back on my career thus far and remembering what I did, and who I met, and the lucky breaks I got to get me where I am today, right now. I was doing the classic-“well if this hadn’t happened, then this wouldn’t have happened, and I wouldn’t be doing this”-type-reflecting until I got to my present moment.

As I previously mentioned, I’ve been working this year, like, really working. I got home from a three week film shoot in Arizona and three days later, got a call that I booked an episode of a TV show that I’m shooting next week. WHAT?! This never happens to me… Which made me wonder… Why is it happening now?

I tried to come up with a logical explanation, like, the 10,000 hours explanation. I thought “maybe I finally hit my 10,000 hours of preparation and now it’s all paying off” (if you haven’t read Malcolm Gladwells’ ‘Outliers’ then you should read it to understand this reference and also, because it’s great). I tried to think of some scientific or mathematical, or sheesh, any kind of tangible reason that would make all of this make sense.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t find that and I’m never going to find that.

So, what changed? How did I go from a year of not booking a single job, to a year of booking at least one job a month?

I stopped seeking out validation. (Oh, here she goes with that hippie-dippy shit again).

I’ve spent a lot of time seeking validation from others, my parents, my siblings, my friends, my boyfriends, teachers, casting directors, producers, etc. And not just seeking validation, but needing it, the way I need air. I’ve always looked for something more to add to my life. I’ve always needed someone to re-assure me that I’m okay. Frankly, I’ve been pretty freaking needy.

My year of sobriety taught me to stop seeking that validation from the people in my life. My sobriety taught me that I was enough. I feel like, when it comes to relationships,  I’ve been a lot better about sticking up for myself. And more importantly, trusting myself; trusting the good thoughts I have about myself and allowing myself to feel unapologetically wonderful about who I am.

My career had a little catching up to do on this whole “positive vibes” thing.

I realized today that I’m booking now because I’ve stopped seeking validation during my auditions, and classes, and meetings. Some people call it “letting go” or they say that they “stopped caring”, but we’re all talking about the same thing.

I no longer allow my career ups and downs to dictate how I feel in my own skin. I recognize that a job can add joy to my life, but it can’t take joy away. I will welcome work with open arms and recognize that what doesn’t happen was never meant to be because something else will be.

From here on out, the only validation I seek will be for LA’s overpriced valet parking.

 

Where have I been?! It’s been quite a while since my last post. Frankly, I’ve been busy. I’ve been busy working!

Currently, I am on an airplane flying back to LA from Phoenix where for the last three weeks, I’ve been shooting a movie! It was an incredible three weeks and I can’t wait for everyone to see it, so keep an eye out for “Krampus: Unleashed” coming out this November!

Ok. Shameless plug over.

Last year, I did a podcast interview with a lovely gentleman by the name of JR Cruz (if you haven’t heard it, it’s still available to stream on iTunes…. Ok, last shameless plug, promise). During this interview, I talked about all things “year of sobriety”. We eventually got to the subject of rewards. This interview was towards the end of my sobriety and as I was reflecting aloud to JR and his listeners, we all realized something kinda funny and kinda sad. I had done this grand year of sobriety, and really had nothing to show for it. I started that year off thinking not only would I become a better, more mature person, but surely I would find love and my career in the process. Well, by November 2015, I was still unemployed and more single than I had ever been.The irony was honk-worthy and I did my best to pretend it didn’t bother me.

Fast forward to now. I’ve spent the first half of this year really struggling to find my social bearings again and have had some major lows as a result, yet, here I am finally feeling like a well-deserved, working actor.

Which got me thinking…. Why is that?

Well, you know how they say everything happens for a reason? That ain’t a lie.

I did a year of sobriety thinking that because I wasn’t “partying” I would surely reap the good-girl behavior rewards and get that oh-so-needed jumpstart on my career. Instead, I spent a year dealing with the most rejection I’ve ever experienced, both personally and professionally,…. stone-cold-sober. That sounds like enough to make a person walk away, and I almost did.

What I realized was this: Being sober helped open my eyes to a part of my being and belief system that I would have never, ever been able to tap into had I not quit drinking, lost my job, got my heart broken, etc. I learned so many important life lessons last year, and this year, I feel myself really applying what I’ve learned and seeing the benefits that come from that.

For example, in June of 2015, I blogged about hitting rock bottom and running to my friend, Abbie, for help. I was at my lowest point then and desperate to feel better, and Abbie suggested some hippie-dippy shit I normally would have rolled my eyes at, but because I was so vulnerable, I was willing to try anything to make all that hurt go away. And, it worked! I’ve been practicing meditation and manifestation and focusing on abundance and reading more about the power of the present moment, and I’ve felt a huge, wonderful shift in the process. I think a lot of the success I’m seeing now is because for the first time in my life, I can deal with what comes my way in an open, stress-free, positive light and I can finally and fully trust that God has my back no matter what.

If you’re feeling stuck or have thrown your hands up in the air screaming “What do you want from me?”, to a God you can hardly bring yourself to believe in anymore, I HIGHLY suggest reading any of the following (some of which I’ve suggested before): The Power of Now, A New Earth, The Alchemist, The Unthethered Soul, The Shack. All of these reads are inspirational and easy to understand and apply to your life.

I guess expecting to reap the rewards from a year of sobriety wasn’t wrong. My timing was a bit off, and Lord knows I have very little patience, (I’m working on it, I swear), but now that it’s all starting to pay off, it feels good, it feels right. God’s timing is funny that way, it’s never when you expect it, but it is always perfect.

So I was catching up on my favorite, now not-so-closeted, reality TV show obsession, Rich Kids of Beverly Hills (shut up, I’ve been in bed sick all weekend, and it’s great television), and well, I got really emotional.

I was watching the episode where Brendan proposed to Morgan, and before he could even get down on one of his gangly knees, I was in tears. Now, I’m not talking the “one glistening happy tear” or the “quiet, shoulder-shaking, sob”. I mean I was bawling my eyes out, uncontrollably. I cried more watching their proposal than I did watching Reese Witherspoon win an Oscar (and if you know me, that’s big).

Thankfully, they cut to a commercial break and I was relieved to be able to collect myself and pretend it never happened. Just as I wiped the last of my mascara off of my jawline (waterproof, my ass), it started again, no, not the trash tv show, my wailing. Only this time, the culprit was not 4.5 carats of princess-cut beauty, it was a commercial for Clear Blue Easy…. The pregnancy test.

I’m not going to lie, or try to sugar coat this, I was straight up sobbing.

Ok, so clearly, if I’m crying over other people’s engagements and double blue lines, it just means I’m closer than I’ve ever been to 30 and I’m feeling that whole unrealistic, societal pressure to settle down and pop em’ out, right?

I could only brush my emotions off for so long before my own personal Jiminy Cricket piped in with his wise words.

“Oh yeah… I just weened off of a really potent anti-depressant. That might have something, or everything, to do with my water works.” (And I mean Water. Works. Like, Kevin Costner could have kicked the shit out of Dennis Hopper on an ocean made only of my tears).

But seriously….

The drug I was on is called Effexor XR. It’s an extended release pill that has to be taken at the same time every day to ensure proper function. It’s a cocktail of anxiety and depression symptom suppressors, and for the last year, it’s made me almost completely numb to the standard day-to-day emotions. That’s not to say I haven’t had the occasional meltdown in the last year, just ask my mom or a handful of my ex-boyfriends, I’ve had my moments. But, on a daily basis, I’ve been kind of numb.

I’ve been pill-free for five days, which doesn’t sound like much, but when you’re experiencing life with a newfound permission to constantly feel it, it’s a lot. The thing I’m most surprised about with this transition is that, I’m really enjoying it. I forgot how terribly good it feels to feel. I had an audition the other day, and for the first time in a year, I could cry real tears when the script asked for it. I heard one of my favorite old songs on the radio last week and I turned it up and rolled down my windows and sang along as loudly as my lungs would let me. I haven’t genuinely laughed, smiled, or cried this much in a while, and I missed it. I missed having daily emotions as opposed to a monthly meltdown.

It’s going to take a lot more time to really know if pill-free is the best option for me. I’m giving myself 6-8 weeks to figure out what my next step should be (if any). I’m hoping that meditation and therapy will be enough, but if not, that’s ok too. I’ve said it before, but anixety and depression is a tricky thing because it’s so different for everyone affected. There’s no one solution, even for just one person. There’s a lot of trial and error. For the first time ever, I’m looking forward to this trial. I plan on doing a lot more ridiculous sobbing over many ridiculous things, and I plan on doing it with a smile on my face and a thankful heart in my chest.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about where I was this time last year. I’ve been thinking a lot about who I was. I was really, really happy, but at the same time, really, really anxious. I was experiencing old things in a new way and taking in a lot of new information on a daily basis. I had a label and a goal, which made me feel like I had a purpose, which I clung to for deal life as I dealt with being newly unemployed and audition-less, heart-achey, and in a new apartment in a new part of town.  I would say this time last year, everything, good and bad, felt dramatic. Me? Dramatic?! Shocking…. I know. Ultimately though, I miss how I felt 365 days ago. The good feelings were really, really good.

That’s not to say I haven’t had some really, really good feelings this year. I’ve had my moments, as most of you have read. Lots of highs and lots of lows, and of course, lots of extremes.

This year seems to be full of more extremes (and we haven’t even made it to April yet, woof).

I think these extremes are coming from a place of re-learning and re-mistaking. As much as it seemed like I was growing and changing last year, introducing un-sobriety back into my life has caused me to take a step back. I told someone the other day that sometimes I feel like I’m 21 again. I feel like I need to learn my limits all over and find that happy grown up balance most of us have by the time we turn 30.

I’ve had too many mornings this year where I’ve woken up and thought “What did I do and why did I do that?!”. (Note to Mom: by “too many” I don’t mean like 100, I mean like one or two, which I think we can both agree, is one or two too many).

I guess what I’m trying to say is… Nowadays, when I drink, I do really stupid shit. (Note to Mom: sorry for cursing).

I spent a year getting to know myself stone cold sober thinking that once I started drinking again, I’d have my “ish” together and would be super responsible and fabulous. Instead, I’ve spent the last three months proving my theory to be completely, totally, utterly wrong.

I forgot to factor in one very important variable when forming the above hypothesis. I forgot about alcohol. I spent a year without alcohol and literally forgot what it does and how it affects the average human. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions, and when you take away my inhibition, I’m not harmlessly dancing on a bar or stupidly hitting on a stranger, I’m making bad choices that end up having consequences.

In my early 20’s, I did the same thing. I think a lot of us did. We learned lessons the hard and drunk way, but we were in our 20’s, so it was excusable and only a matter of time before life dealt a blow to snap us into grown-up mode.

Now, I’m approaching the last year of my 20’s and I’ve had my fill of “blows”. I don’t need to learn any more lessons the hard way, thanks life, I’m good on that.

My goal now is to be Presently Un-Sober. Last year was all about staying “Presently Sober” to get to know that side of me, and now I want to get to know that other side. I want to know me as a social butterfly. I want to be fully aware of who I am after a glass of wine or a few shots of whiskey. I don’t want to fall into an unconscious trap of binge drinking and poor life choices and what-happened-last-night wake up calls. I want to take all of the drama from last year and apply it to this year. Instead of learning from my mistakes; I want to learn from the bravest and craziest choice I’ve ever made. I want my sobriety to dictate how I drink again.

I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I think it’s all about presence. I’ve said this before, but when I named this blog a year and a half ago, I couldn’t define presence, and I had no idea that 2015 would not only teach me that definition, but also teach me how to apply it, and learning that would be the most rewarding experience of my life, so far. I think it is possible to have that same presence even though I’ve taken away my sobriety. I think that’s what people call “balance” and now that I’m a grown-up (or will be in less than a week), I’m ready to find my grown-up balance.