The Life Pursuit

Just a quick catch up…. (Ketchup!)…

I leave for Oklahoma in two days. I am so excited to get to see everyone! Oklahoma is my home, so it’s almost like the holidays. I am working for the Oklahoma Arts Institute at Quartz Mountain for the month, which is why I’m coming back, but I have some time off the second week, so I’m gonna go see EVERYONE that I can. I have some parties and things lined up. It’s sure to be a good time.

I quit the cheese.

I have a couple of other options lined up when I get back from Oklahoma, so nobody panic. I just couldn’t do it anymore.

The schedule was so painful. I would work 40 hours a week, but they would be odd hours that would take up entire days, never anything consistent. At one point, I asked to be off by 3pm on Thursdays so I could go to a yoga class with a friend. In turn they gave me every Thursday off, and no weekend days off, and yes, I like yoga…however, I enjoy weekends more.

I think it’s great that cheese and wine can make some people feel so happy and fulfilled. I am just not one of those people.  

When it comes to my life journey, I have to get on the freaking ball here. I need headshots, first and foremost. I need a voice reel. I need a flexible job. I need, need, need, and money is the only thing that ever holds me back. It’s so frustrating.

Woe, Money! Life…stop being a bitch.

In other news, I got a bike! It’s green and cute and her name is Schwinny Todd. (She’s a lesbian.) I’d really like to try and bike through the winter if possible, so I’m going to buy a few things in OK and ship them back. A few of my friends say that biking in the winter is easier and even safer than the summer….Golly gee! I hope I don’t die!

Biking makes me happy. It’s so strange, and kinda cheesy, but I was riding through the city with a friend a couple weeks ago and had this realization that biking was something I was always supposed to do. It makes me really happy. I see so much more of the city on a bike. I see things I really wouldn’t see otherwise.

Turns out quitting smoking cold turkey is super duper HARD, which I knew, but wasn’t entirely prepared for. I am still not smoking regularly, but I have had a few slip ups here and there, mostly when I’m drinking. I haven’t given up though!

I am so excited for the next few days of my life...the next four weeks, really… AND coming back to a beautiful city and my beautiful friends in November.

I hope you enjoyed this mediocre blog, and I promise I’ll have more to say next time.

Happy, happy! 

Goals

 What I want to do in Chicago (in no particular order):

*Learn to play the piano

*Take voice lessons

*Learn to tap

*Dance

*Sing

*Smile

*Stop smoking cigarettes

*Get a bike

*Fall in love

*Take a scene study class

*Take an improv class

*Get a voice reel together

*New headshots

*Audition

*Act

*Be happy

I am making enough money to pay my bills, and I’m not starving to death, so theoretically, I’m doing great! But piano lessons, dance classes and headshots cost money….so money I must make.

I have a really great job right now. I work full-time, and like I said, I’m paying my bills. I’m making money, but it’s still not enough.

So it’s looking like I’m going to have to pick up a second job, at least for a while.

I’m going to be so tired, but I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. Hard work has never kept me from accomplishing something. Duh.

So I’m going to work my ass off. Like I always do. So that I can do the things I want to do in my life.

As for my life here, I have never been happier than I am right now. I have never known myself as well as I do now. I am so happy.

And if I need to save money somewhere, at least I’m doing it here.

Still a week from another paycheck, I went to CVS earlier and bought milk, eyeliner and a CTA pass…

You know…the necessities… 

I absolutely cannot afford to buy cigarettes. Cigarettes and I have to break up.

So without further adieu: A farewell….

Dear Cigarettes,

Our love affair is over. I’m sorry, but it has to be. I don’t love you anymore. You’re not good for me. You spend all my money, and I’m sick of it.  It’s been a great eight years dude, but you treat me like shit, so I’m out of here.

Good luck. I bet they ban you in the streets soon.

If I see you out, please don’t try to kindle our flame. This may be hard, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t respond to any drunken attempts at reconnection.  

When we are together, I can’t sing, I can’t dance, and I can’t breathe.

You’re an asshole, peace out. 

Randi V. Wallace

So here we go. Day 1 of no cigarettes…again… I can’t even count how many times I’ve quit. 

Oh well! Maybe 329^th time’s the charm?

To healthy lungs and a happy heart! 

And That's the Name of That Tune!

I am terrible at relationships. (There. I said it.)

My relationships don’t generally work out.  They usually end badly, painfully, with one or both parties left emotionally scarred.

They have a fairly steady run of course: I usually find myself lonely, then become infatuated with a very sexy, yet emotionally unavailable man that I have little in common with, and he's usually blonde. 

He tends to be whiney, dramatic, and treat me like shit when he's frustrated.

And I usually reciprocate this behavior %100.

My lady friends try to warn me that he's being an asshole and I'm not being myself, which upsets me so I don't hang out with them as much.

Within a matter of months, I realize that he doesn't give two shits about me, which hurts my pride, so I act like a bitch and we break up. I run and cry to my lady friends.

(I always seem to think that I can turn an emotionally unavailable man into the best boyfriend ever!) 

But not anymore. I am smarter than I used to be. I can see it coming, so I can stop it. Now. Before it's too late and another relationship is ruined. 

But that brings me to my next obstacle...

Sex.

Okay, if you are reading this blog and you are my grandmother, former preacher, or Sunday school teacher, I recommend that you read no further. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not have a Barbie doll crotch.

I am a very sexual person. I like sex quite a bit. In fact, I get very bitchy and whiney if I have to go long periods of time without sex. 

That being said, I am absolutely incapable of having casual sex. It’s not in my wiring.

Regular sex and emotional attachment wouldn't be issues if I had a boyfriend. But I don’t need a boyfriend right now. I need to focus.

I always have a god damn boyfriend. And it always gets me nowhere.  

Many people are aware that my previous blog “A New Chapter” was quickly deleted once I got lonely and started dating a co-worker last fall.

In that blog I said that I was going to be single for two years.

In real life I was single for about five minutes.

(It didn't work out. Obviously.) 

On top of all of this, I can’t help but admit that I absolutely love falling in love.

It’s the best rush in the world.

So here I am again.

I need to find a balance. Some suggest that I find a battery operated balance.

Badumpsh.

Two years?

Fuck if I know! 

All I can do is be here now. 

Randi vs. Randi: A Love Story

I have done my fair share of screwing up in the last few years.

There were some epic battles:

Me vs. Myself

Me vs. Self-sabotage

Me vs. The Girl who couldn’t be alone for five minutes

Me vs. Grad School

Me vs. Braces

Me vs. Student Loans

Me vs. Money

Me vs. The Girl who ate too much

Me vs. The Girl who forgot to eat sometimes

Me vs. What people think of me

Me vs. What I think people think of me

Me vs. Self-Image

Me vs. Self-acceptance

Me vs. My history

I definitely did not win all of the battles, but I do feel that I have won the war.

Today has been a “Keep calm, and carry on” type of day. I woke up really stressed about money, or lack thereof, I should say. I talked to a couple of friends about what I should do, and then I decided to call on my friend Jacqui.

Here’s a little background on Jacqui. Jacqui was my boss at White Dog Hill for over four years. She’s British. She moved to the US about 12 years ago. She’s hilarious. She has bought me 486 handbags. She has held my hand and been there for me every single time I “quit” White Dog.  She has been there for me through many of the above-mentioned epic battles. She has nurtured me, and helped me grow up. She is like a mother to me.

I can’t begin to tell you how much Jacqui has influenced my life in the last four years. I have become an entirely new, healthier, calmer, more ambitious version of myself because of her. I love her so much. I have her to thank for so many things.

One of the most recent, and very important things that Jacqui has taught me is that freaking out and stressing will get me no where. If I “keep calm, and carry on,” as she says, then I will be much more likely to solve a problem.

This may seem like nothing to some of you. You may even be thinking, “uh duh, Randi, everyone knows that.”

But I didn’t know that, and my stress has been a huge problem for me in the past. It has also had a huge effect on all of my relationships, romantic and platonic.

I'm at a point in my life where I actually love myself. I love myself more than I ever have before. And I listen to myself. It is amazing. 

So today, I won’t stress. I’ll enjoy my life and tip my hat to the woman I have become. I will smile, and solve problems, and be happy. The healthier, smarter, more confident version of myself thanks all those people who helped me be the person that I am.

And especially Jacqui, for reminding me that life is precious, we should always care about other people, love and acceptance are virtues, bad things do happen sometimes, and that we should always follow our dreams if we can.

Strangely Familiar, Yet Nothing Alike

I see hundreds of new faces everyday, most of which I will never see again. And if I did see them again, I probably wouldn't recognize them.

Every face reminds me of another face in some way... Some look, or facial feature, or gesture made by a stranger...and instantly they remind me of someone else.

This has been a sad thing for me in the past, particularly in San Antonio, when I would long so desperately to see a familiar face.

When I meet new people, I am immediately drawn to those who remind me of close friends. Almost like a casting agent, I'll give them a "type." Oh you're the Rana type, or the Emily type, or the Chelsea type...not to say that those three ladies are even remotely replaceable... but if someone reminds me of any of them in some way then I'll immediately like them.

Sometimes I don't like people based on who they remind me of. Recently, a facial feature reminded me of a girl I didn't get along with in high school, and I thought, "yeah, I'm not gonna like her."

I was wrong about that.

I can be too quick to judge, too quick to put a label on someone or something, and just decide and compartmentalize an expected relationship with some person. I shouldn't do that.

Each individual human being is a separate entity. Everyone is unique. Everyone has lived his or her own life so far.

I had a phone interview the other day for a nanny gig and the woman asked me if I had a peer or mentor that is the "type of parent" I want to be. Well I have tons of friends who are exceptional parents, so I had to think about it a moment, but then finally answered, "Yes, of course, my little sister Stephanie!"

My Chiclet.

I'm not really sure why I started calling her Chiclet. I think it was because she was little, so tiny, and her hair was so white.

We are so much alike, but such different people. We look the same, we sound the same, we have the same beliefs (for the most part), we can both sing, we can both dance...she can paint, and I can act.

She single-handedly kept my family together when I had given up hope for any future.

Her nickname for a long time was "Step-on-me Wallace," but believe me, she is not to be stepped on. Well, not unless you want your neck (metaphorically) snapped. She's the strongest woman I've ever known. The most loving woman I have ever known. She's an amazing mother. And, unlike me, her patience and compassion withstand every obstacle she faces.

I met a girl the other day that reminded me of her. I immediately liked her. They're nothing alike, of course. I'm sure I won't be able to tell this girl everything about me, or call her every time some boy makes me cry...but her smile still makes me feel a little more at home.

Hot Child in the City

This will forever be remembered as the summer I sweat my ass off.

From the air going out at Matt's, to White Dog Hill, to Quartz Mountain, to Woody's air going out in his truck...to Chicago. 

It is so damn hot, all of the time. 

My apartment doesn't have central air, but luckily I brought a badass window unit with me from Oklahoma, so it stays pretty cool in my room. I'm not really looking forward to our electricity bill, but oh well. At least I have an icy oasis. 

I sweat buckets and buckets just walking down the street here, plus I get lost all the damn time, so I sweat even more. 

I promise I'm really not as pissy as I sound. I'm still happy! Just hot. 

So freaking hot. All the time.

My hair gets really wavy when I sweat. I've never noticed that before.

I had my interview today at the wine and cheese place. I have a "working interview" with them tomorrow from 1-4. They want to see how well I use a knife and how I work under pressure. I don't mean to toot my own horn here, but I'm pretty sure I've got this one in the bag. 

We'll see.

I was wanting to go do something random and Chicago-like this evening, but all of my regular "dates" and whatnots are busy and it's so damn hot outside...so I'm gonna drink a beer, eat a Toblerone, and find a tacky movie on Netflix.

Sorry for the random blog post. I promise to be more cohesive...when my life is more cohesive...which will probably never happen...so...

My Toblerone melted.

Summer of Sweat. 

The Tale of the Fail

Monday afternoon I was out handing my resume to anyone who looked even remotely like they were hiring, when it hit me! 

The sidewalk that is. 

Literally.

I tripped and fell in a crack in the sidewalk and scraped my knee and foot. 

Now don't go feeling sorry for me! This happens to me a lot. I have weak ankles, and sometimes I fall for no reason, so at least this time there was some crack to blame it on. (Haha blame it on the crack!) 

Anywho...I just started laughing hysterically out of embarrassment and this little blonde girl in heels comes running to me shouting, "OH MY GAWD I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS!" and then this little Turkish dude helps me up and insists that I come inside his restaurant and clean up my leg. 

So I do. AND HE HIRES ME. Really. 

I started working for him yesterday! Waiting tables! I worked nearly 10 hours and didn't make hardly anything, so I doubt I will stay there, but hey! It's a job!  

I have an interview on Friday for a wine and cheese bar that I'm pretty excited about. Really hoping they hire me. Really, really hoping that I get hired to one of the theatre gigs I applied for....but at this point, I'll take what I can get. 

For now.