Another Murphy's Law Day

Another Murphy's Law Day

This week I've been communicating a director in Vancouver, BC. Everyday I checked my email before I went to work to see if I had an audition. Thursday I still hadn't heard from him, and knew that if I didn't, I'd have a message on my phone when I reached mile marker 115 telling me that I had one that evening.

I should learn to listen to my sixth sense. On my way home, sure enough, was a message from Rummi re-confirming my 9:30 audition. (Reconfirming? That implies it was confirmed at one point.) So I called Becky to see if I could crash there, and called the director to reschedule for 10:25 the next night.

Friday was my day off. I did errands, shipped ebay items out, got my rock chip repaired, and was ready to leave town from getting gas on 16th and Lincoln. On my way out I remembered that I'd forgotten my headshot. Ran back home. Went from home to deposit my last tips for gas money on 1st. Had a litle more time, so stopped in at the Lighthouse to talk to Nancy for half an hour. Left the Lighthouse and drove to Ellensburg. Four miles outside of Ellensburg I remembered another crucial tidbit. While I was in Cambodia legislation was passed that you can't cross the border now without a passport. Mine was in a drawer at home.

I called Miles to make sure there was no way I could cross. Then turned the car around and drove back to Yakima, got my passport, and turned around again, now two hours later than I'd intended.

Finally on the way I talked to Kristina. I pulled into Seattle at 6:30 -- just in time for dinner with the Logsdons before finishing out my trip to the border by 10:00. At 7:30 I got on the road again, making good time. The director called again to ask if I could be there an hour early. Not exactly. I told him my eta was 10, and I couldn't get there any sooner.

9:30 pm I reached the border, with 25 miles to go. And there I hit a major snag. A line stretched out for miles from the border. With the clock inching towards 10, I finally had to concede defeat and call the director to tell him I would be there neither at 10, nor 10:30, but more like 11. He sighed and said his crew had a long two days, and he couldn't keep them any longer.

So I pulled off the road at the last mile marked in the US and got gas, got coffee, and called the director back to talk to some of the other directors who were auditioning the next day. None of the shows sounded worth spending an hour and a half crossing the border plus buying a hotel room for. I turned around and drove back to Seattle.

The plus side, in 6 weeks I can try this again for three shows that all sound really interesting. Every cloud has a silver lining.

Today, I ran my tail off at work. Made $120 in tips, but Jake is staring at me DYING to be walked, and I actually cannot do it tonight.

I'm also stalling. I have a sewing project I've promised to do, but now, much as I would love to be finished with the thing, I didn't hear back from the lady about the questions I'd had (which way the stripes are supposed to go, and should they all go the same direction, or should some go one way, and some the other), so I didn't get to it on my days off -- now I'm working 7 days straight, and have to get this dress done. You'd think I'd plan this better.

I also have a 5,000 word final paper to write...sometime.

I am supposed to hear back from last Saturday's audition "by today." The silence doesn't bode well...

And ironically -- considering today's Little Red Boat post, I cooked myself bacon wrapped pork chops tonight. Stop shuddering, Teri.

The Pagoda on top of the Killing Caves

In our first week in Battambang we were taken to the killing fields -- the site of thousands of murders by the Khmer Rouge. Many people were shoved from the top of the mountain to die on the rocks below. Sadistic guards would swing infants into the rock walls. Strong men were either hung or electrocuted.

On top of the mountain is a very old Wat (pagoda is the western word for it). How old? So old that it has throwbacks to its Hindu origens. See the blue statue with all the arms? That's not a Buddhist but a Hindu god in a Buddhist temple. As elsewhere in Asia, beliefs are very mixed together and adopted. Buddhists in cambodia are also strongly influenced by Chinese ancestor worship and tribal animism.





We all look at a gun leftover from the last ditch attempt by the Khmer Rouge to keep the conquering armies from crossing over from Thailand.

More Stories of a Modern Woman

More Stories of a Modern Woman

So tonight, I found myself calling in a claim to my insurance company to get a rock chip in my windshield repaired, while tiling the bathroom wall.

Cultural Beauty

Cultural Standards of Beauty

One of the things that amazed me so much about Cambodia is how much they want to look like anything but what they do. Many times people would tell me how beautiful my skin is. I would tell them that their skin is beautiful too (watch American beauty standards coming into play -- we all want to be tan with small noses) and they'd say, no. They have Cambodian skin. I also got stopped a lot by people telling me how beautiful my 'tall' nose is. (In America I've twice been offered to have my nose job paid for.)

We all want to look different than we are. It's probably 'natural' to want to be someone else. I've always wished I could have long straight dark brown hair and small, even features (suprisingly, I've never wanted to be tall, no matter how convenient it would be for reaching top shelves).

In Cambodia light skin is the ultimate desire. Women wear turtlenecks, long pants, elbow length gloves, hats, scarves covering head and face, and often a sweater over all that -- all in the attempt not to tan. It is impossible to buy lotion in this country that isn't whitening - as you can see from the picture.

In one sense it is true that we all want what we can't have. Since most people Cambodia have dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes, they want white skin, big eyes and tall noses instead. But in one way America is different -- yes we all perhaps aren't satisfied with the way we are made, but there is more of a license to have different kinds of beauty. With all the fashion and design shows out there, one things that does come across (on What Not to Wear for example) is find out what looks best on you. Highlight your own good features and don't try to copy someone else. Even in a culture that does have some standards of beauty -- the look for beauty isn't as cookie cutter anymore. What we consider beautiful is tall, dark, short, tall, dark, light, red, green, black, blue, thin as a stick, or curvy. What is beautiful is to be comfortable in your own skin. Find something you like about yourself and play it up. I, for example, love my eyes and put makeup on them everyday, whether I wear more than chapstick anywhere else. I know Teri loves her hair.

Who else has a favorite feature?

I just wish that my Cambodian sisters can learn to start appreciating how they were made, and how unique their culture is, as they hurry to throw it out and become western as quickly as possible.

Culture is unique. It's alright to like other cultures, other foods, other looks or ways of living. But don't forget to appreciate who you are, and where you were put on this earth.

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My so called leisurely day

My so-called leisurely day

I woke up this morning at 9 .... and 10....and 11. (I keep blaming my sleep schedule on the jet lag, though really it's been two weeks and the effects should have worn off by now) Petted the cat, moseyed over to make breakfast, sat down, ate slowly. Enjoyed the fact that I had a few hours until work started to get moving at my favored morning pace...snail. I happened to wander past my day planner and saw, OH MY GOSH! I have to be at work at 12, not 3. It's 11:20. I'm in my pajamas. I have a 45 minute commute.

(I admit it. I swore.) Then I ran around like a mad woman trying to find some of my blacks that aren't covered in lint, wrinkled, or too small (I CAN still blame the rice). Washed my face, threw in my contacts, grabbed my makeup bag and ran to the car. My only detour was to stop at the ATM and pull out some cash to make change (didn't need it, though, almost all paid with credit card and no one wanted change). Called work to tell them I'd overslept and to expect me 10 minutes late, and drove like a restrained bat out of hell because I can't get a ticket again until after my hearing sometime in September for the last ticket I got and paid to defer.

So I got there, 15 minutes late, unshowered, ready to go. It was a medium day. Slow maybe for them, but I had plenty to think about trying to remember how to push all the right buttons.

I made $115. Not bad for my first day back to work. And it makes a bit of a dent, anyway, in all the things I had to charge to my credit card these past few weeks when money was lacking and doctor visits had to be made. Hurrah.

Into the Woods

I'm on my way to Spokane to audition for Into the Woods in concert. We'll see how this goes!

CS Lewis, Miracles

I've written my 4th paper on CS Lewis - on Miracles. I put my class on hold while I went to Cambodia and now I'm trying to finish it. Lewis and jetlag don't mix, by the way, but I managed to read the book in the past few days, and write the paper this morning, due immediately. I really love academia as a hobby. I don't think I'd do very well with it as the main focus - eventually I'd wonder when are we going to stop talking about things and actually live them. The perpetual existance in the theoretical would drive me up the wall, I'd imagine. For me debate is fun, but only so long as it leads to something practical in the end. What's the point of solving the mysteries of the universe if it doesn't change the way you live your life.

My next paper is on Mere Christianity -- Lewis' most widely read non-fiction book. I'm looking forward to reading it again, as I've quoted it a lot in previous papers on Lewis.

So, I'm that person, am I?

So I'm that person, am I?

I caught a mental image of myself standing in line at the supermarket...all my groceries in my eco-shopping bag, blouse with traces of cat hair from petting Cai when I got back from Seattle. Somehow it all tied in with the usual question, "So, any men in your life we should know about?" Nope. Some good friends. And most of them, right now, are in Cambodia and far younger than me.

How is it that everyone around me seems to be all caught up in dating as a lifestyle. Did I miss the memo back in high school? Because now it seems that I've been so content (minus those lovely college years) to be single for so long, I don't even miss it. Other than the usual faint longing that stir when watching a Romantic Comedy or walking accidentally through the 'baby section' of anywhere. (I don't know anyone who can withstand the allure of baby booties. I know my sister sure as heck can't.)

I don't think I'm alone here. Though, four people I know have gotten married in the last 7 months or so. I don't hate men, in fact I rather like them as a whole. So what am I missing. Where did I lose the "must be in a relationship" drive. Was I absent that day?