Silly Goose

When I was a little girl... and I mean actually a little girl in age not just in mindset, I had (and still do) a really special relationship with my uncle. From what I am told, (I was too little to actually know this for myself) my Bubby was going through a hard time in his life; one of those times where no matter how happy you want to be, your heart just won't let you because someone did you wrong. So here he was is this trench of broken promises and hurtful actions and a little chubby baby comes along that hasn't had the pleasure of knowing what mends a broken heart. Unknown to me, I carried the medicine for times such as these in my brand new little soul, and I helped usher him back into happy. He is and always will be my bubs, my special uncle/father figure/brother hybrid that I will always love and respect. But to get the point, in this very special and fun relationship he formed with me, I became his little protege. Most everything he did was silly. So everything I did in return was also silly. At every turn he would tell me I was such a "silly goose" And when that became to laborious to say it was shortened to "you are such a goose." Thus a legacy was born. I was crowned a goose.

Fast forward about two decades and you will find this same girl being the same silly goose as she was back then. I have been watching myself shape shift like I was a super hero in training, and I can almost say I have become a spectator to my own life. Things have been happening so very fast. And not just in one area of my life. It seems as if someone pressed fast forward on all of the story lines going on in my life and I didn't wear my running shoes to set. Instead I am wearing a stylish yet completely cumbersome pair of fancy stilettos and if someone doesn't help me slow down I'm going to sprain my ankle... (which funny as it is I have actually just recently done this in real life. I had to do the entire run of Beehive on a very sprained ankle... but I did it)

To further elaborate and hopefully help you actually understand this nonsense I am speaking of, I will regale you of what my life has been as of late. My world began to run away from me about a month ago when I took a sensible weekend vacation to North Carolina with my family. The trip was lovely, the wedding we attended was stunning, but everything that happened was so out of my control. When we slept. When we ate. When I got home. Nothing had any fingerprints on mine on it anywhere. Then I began the rehearsal period for Beehive. Which is great. And fast. And by fast I mean head spinning. Before I knew it we had opened. I had completely switched gears from corporate hot shot (I had just received a promotion to assistant and branch manager before I left for rehearsal) to hair tossing leg kicking note belting diva.. well not diva but you know what I mean. My showgirl counter part arose and arose very quickly. I now was living a totally different life, with totally different people. Don't get me wrong I loved EVERY second of it because this is really my heart, but it was just such a fast shift. I was even letting some into my personal life... and that is a real rarity. I spent a lot of time with a few people, tore down some walls and let them see the meat and potatoes of what miss Courtney Whittamore was all about.

And then before I knew it the show was over. It came and went so fast that I thought I had dreamed the whole thing up. Everything about it was so positive. The people I worked with, the creative process I went through, the person I allowed myself to become, the feedback I received. Not a bad word could be said about any of it. But then I started to watch myself stomp all over all of it. And in the back of my mind I could hear my Bubs say "you are being such a silly goose, what do you think you are doing little one?" What do I think I am doing? I am putting pressure on things that were just fine without any of my "help" and now it may be ruined. I am criticising a performance that has already been given and thinking that in hind sight it wasn't what it should be, when I KNOW that it touched so many people in a positive way. I am constantly worried that now I'm not wearing the right hat at the right time, and that someone will see "the wrong part of me" and walk away from me, thinking that they made a mistake in taking the time to "get to know me." I am teetering between the line of "who I am" and "who I want you to see." And this whole time I am watching myself, hearing my wise Bubs say "goose... calm down. Everything is going to be fine little one."

So as I sit here typing out my short comings, I am shaking my head and scoffing at myself. No matter how old I get, or how successful I become, I will always be this silly little goose that slips up and worries too much and drives herself and everyone around her crazy because of this insane need to understand EVERYTHING. The thing I need to come to grips with, is not changing who I am, but allowing myself to find someone who is just as much of a silly goose as I am. I will always be the Little One with flinstone feet and chubby cheeks and drinks all the sweet tea at family functions and adores chocolate milk and must have everything as plain as possible and feels the most secure when she is with those who love her. And I'm starting to see just how amazing that privilege really is. This incessant need to know what others see in me is so futile... I'm a silly goose running around like a chicken with her head cut off, and you can't be a chicken and a goose at the same time. So I'm going to choose to stay this silly little goose that I have always been, and just hope that when you turn around, you see someone that is worth looking further into.

The Makings Of A Showgirl

Being a professional performer comes with many advantages. You get to travel to places that would normally be out of reach. You get to make people happy, and forget about their problems. You get to sing and dance, and escape from your own life for a moment, and breath life into a character that are just words on a page without you. And... you get to act like an over the top showgirl from time to time.

I enjoy sweat pants. A lot. I would wear them to everything I possibly could if it were socially acceptable, but now that I am out of college and working in the real world I am learning that it is important to portray yourself as someone who actually owns clothes you shouldn't sleep in. I have been known to rarely ever wear makeup, my flip-flops are my shoes of choice, and I wear whatever is clean and makes me look skinny that day. Well. I am quickly discovering that this is not the ways of a showgirl.

Showgirls are these lovely creatures that can manipulate the costumes they are given, no matter how ridiculous they are and make them look fabulous on stage. Even the most over the top stage makeup looks stunning on them. They can wield their brushes and their paste like make up and the moment they waltz on the stage eyes go directly to them. Sequins, feathers, skimpy outfits and fake eyelashes are the staples of a showgirl's wardrobe... and I have come to the realization that as an up-and coming showgirl I must dive into this unknown world of glitz and glamour head first.

I received this wake up call when I went on as Tracy in Hairspray about 5 months ago. After my whirlwind costume fitting and running places and choreography, I went into the dressing room and began to "get ready." As I sat at my mirror, I glanced at the showgirl veterans around me and realized I was so out of my league. Of course, this was not my first professional show by any means, but in shows past we had either had make-up done for us, or it was a period piece and no make-up was used at all. Well, I quickly learned that both if these instances were a rarity and that I had to learn how to make my face stage ready, not just my voice... and I had about 5 minutes to engage in a crash course. I faked my way through getting the basics down, but when it came to my eyes and cheeks I was obviously lost. When I was asked where my fake lashes were, I just kind of shrugged, chiding myself for not having known that I should have them. I have been in the business for almost two years... how could I have overlooked false eyelashes! Thank goodness the costume shop had an extra pair... but then I had to put them on. When all of the other amazon goddesses (who really are lovely) left the room I went to my dear Negdra who played Motormouth Mabel and bashfully told her I had no idea what I was doing. She put those things on faster than I could hike up my tights. And that's when I realized... I am still a young grasshopper, and I have MUCH to learn.

With my new show coming around the bend, I have taken it upon myself to be more prepared. I can't really get away with not knowing how to do these things anymore, as I am very blessed and my resume is steadily growing. So with each paycheck I have been updating my wardrobe with more appropriate clothing (bargain shopping to the max for sure), frequenting the Mac store and purchasing stage makeup and practicing applying it once everyone else has gone to bed.. and last night, I tackled the false eyelashes.

I went to my local sally's to by the cheapest pair I could find as they would only be used for practice and went home to begin my lesson for the day. I watched several tutorials on youtube and once I felt that I could tackle the unknown, I tried to do it myself. Well the first try was horrid. I thought that they were at my lash line when in reality they were in the middle of my eyelid. I looked like a first time drag queen. So I tried again. While it was better that time, they wouldn't stay on, so the third time I just applied more glue so they would stay. Well I got glue happy I guess and that's when the horror ensued. I glued my eye shut. Utterly shut. It took me twenty minutes to pry my eye back open and get all the glue out of my natural lashes. And even then every time I blinked there was a delay when my eyes were supposed to open again. Needless to say I was discouraged. And scared. So I threw in the towel and thought I would try again another time. But several hours later I was frustrated enough to try again. Its false eyelashes for goodness sakes. I have gotten jobs in some of the best regional theatres without much help, and I couldn't apply my own lashes? It was time I looked the part I have been playing and hope to play for years to come. After many many more tries and careful amounts of glue I did it. I applied a now lifeless pair of false eyelashes on my lids. 3 times. And I am very proud of myself.

I know that clothes and makeup and lashes and sequins aren't what the business is all about, trust me if it were I would get very bored and be actually rather disgusted with it. But it is a part of it. And I want to be the very best that I can possibly be in everything I do, whether that's creating a character, or gluing on some lashes. Not to mention in kind of makes me feel pretty. This is the beginning of a legitimate showgirl in the making, and I can't wait to see where it takes me!

A Star Is Born... I Guess...

New York City and Hollywood are the headliners of dreams for millions. As children, many of us grow up in small towns or just say we did because we all know the most fabulous success stories start humbly, and proclaim that we will make it to "the big city" one day and be stars. Daily we fed ourselves on the performances of the icons that shaped our world. Performers like Gene Kelly and Judy Garland and Fred Astaire. We beg our families to buy us tap shoes or acting lessons instead of groceries, and if that doesn't work we find another way. Whether that's getting involved in the arts at school or bartering with teachers for lessons, we find a way to become the leading lady or man we are when we close our eyes at night. But the one way that never fails, is studying these stars that came before us, and just hoping that we absorb some of their sparkle.

Yes we can learn valuable lessons from Hollywood legends gone by, but how can we take advantage of the stars that shape our today? Well, let us take a look at the icons that have risen throughout the last few years.

Let us begin with the recording industry. Music is the soul of all inspiration and transcends words when we can no longer find them. One of today's greatest artists is Kim Kardasian. Her voice is pure and powerful, showcasing her perfect pitch. No need for auto tune here folks, because Kim's voice is one of the angel's. And her songs are so meaningful and genuine. In a sea of one hit wonders catering to a crowd that just wants to move on the dance floor, Kim has found meaning once again. She puts her soul in each syllable and her heart in each measure. I hope one day that I can be half the artist that she is.

Now we move on tho the Broadway Star. The Show Girl. The Triple Threat. These fierce singer actor dancers do it all, every night at 8 o'clock, and they bring the house down with every curtain call. Whether they are belting G's, twirling triples, or fiercely monologuing, they are giving you not only the best of the best, but the best of themselves. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the very definition in human form of the Broadway Star... Ashley Simpson. In her stint as Roxy in the well know show Chicago, Ashley was all of this and more. Gone were the days of her lip syncing on live television... she actually had to sing live for the very first time! And did she ever. Her commitment is unprecedented as well. She put her life into the lead role of this iconic show for an entire 10 weeks. This is the longest run in the history of Broadway actors. She shined. She glimmered. She danced and didn't trip once. She belted, twirled, and acted so well that people actually couldn't stand it. Not only do I commend the industry for showcasing such talent, but I hope that I one day can parallel such a spotless and persistent run.

Next is the Movie Star. They grace not only the silver screen, but our news channels, radios, and even the checkout lines where we purchase our groceries. We envy them, and we pity them all at once. We long for their life of fortune and pity the invasion of their privacy. We look to them as role models on not just how to dress and how to behave, but how to view the world and to really prioritize what is important. Who better demonstrates spotless priorities and actual talent than Lindsay Lohan. I will forever look to her for not only what to wear when I go to court, but how to successfully shoplift, go through rehab, and still have my priorities right where they belong. To put my family first and make good movies. She has made such strides in groundbreaking movies such as The Parent Trap and Freaky Friday, and who could forget Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (which also spawned her hit single of the same name and catapulted her unforgettable album) and Mean Girls (Where she also have a spotless vocal performance)? These movies have moved me so deeply, that each time I watch them, I know that I am watching something special, and walk away from them deeply changed.

The last form of modern star I will touch on in the once Movie Star now T.V Icon. This is a very rare breed of actor. Most actors start on T.V then try and jump the gap to film, but this character decided that feature film was dead, and the sitcom was where the revolution lies. He conquered the small screen in a big way, and began to look for creative ways to continue his success. He was no longer satisfied with entering the homes of millions on one of the biggest networks on television as the highest paid actor in sitcom history. He craved more. By now you know I am talking about the great mogul Charlie Sheen. He decided to broaden his horizons by doing benders of cocaine, and keeping a harem of "goddesses" handy at all times to feed his creative process. So what if it lead to him getting fired? He can become his own brand by coining witty sayings and produce his own show from the comfort of his own home that gets just as good of ratings! So what if he is behind on child support? He can just adopt some of his goddesses and makes those his new kids. Clearly Charlie Sheen has the right idea on how to achieve stardom, because every network has aired a feature piece on him in the last month.

I give you the stars we have catapulted to stardom in the last twenty years. Not only are they brimming with talent, but they are an inspiration and individuals that I strive to not only model my career after, but to shape my life like. These are the stars that the next generation of young dreamers have to look up to...

Am I the only one that thinks this is pathetic?
Disclosure: These are extreme cases, I am aware and look up to all of the professionals in the industry that are incredible at what they do. But you have to admit, this breed of star is becoming more frequent, and that is a trend that not only disappoints me, but scares me. I have my siblings that I love with all of my heart, and this is the last thing that I want them looking up to, and it's the last thing I want to model my career after.

Saved By The Bell

Words are a freeing thing. At least for me they are. Especially when you can write them down. There is something about seeing exactly what you are thinking being typed out in front of you. It makes my thoughts real ya know? They may mean something to me, but they can't have any impact until I get them out of my head and into the world. That is certainly something I need to work on. Getting out of my own head. It's not only important to do for Courtney the actor, but its necessary for Courtney the person. I think the thing I need to wrap my head around and prioritize and maybe sift through better are the words of others. Which ones are important and which ones are true and which ones are necessary and which ones are meaningless? If you have the answer please... let me know. I'm tired of looking!

I am an analyzer, which I find rather amusing. For some absurd reason I must know everything about meaning and tone or I drive myself mad trying to figure it out. I become this obsessive little detective that isn't properly trained in the slightest and try and figure out what every little detail means. I not only drive myself crazy, but I become an annoyance to EVERYONE I can possibly get to talk to me about the situation. I become the energizer bunny. I don't quit. And the funny thing is, I have never, not once, figured any of it out.

I started this insane process tonight. I saw something in print that I didn't really care for that included me, and I began the ridiculous cycle of turning into Harriet the Spy. I whipped out my over sized magnifying glass ignoring the fact that I am an armature. I began to worry, fret, and even sweat over something that most likely (and always usually does when I go into this sort of tirade) means less than absolutely nothing. I then began phase two of blowing it WAY out of proportion. I began to see these words as another language and started interpreting them into what I think is universal English when really its the exclusive "Courtney is silly" speak. I began to postulate that something terrible had been unearthed about me and that somehow some intimate detail of my life had been discovered and that now this person could possibly hold the key to my undoing. Hi. My name is Courtney and I really hope that I am not the only one that does this. In the likely event that I am, I would like to take out the custom made shade of humiliation and color my entire being with it. If not, well. This sucks right?

So this went on for... well... too long. I ranted to a friend about it. Felt a touch better. Then, while sitting at my computer staring at my news feed on facebook... someone held a mirror up to my face. A piece of my past, made themselves apart of my today, and just at the right time. An old middle school friend of mine had found me on facebook... on of those friends you share secrets with and inside jokes with and just get to be a kid with. Well somehow she had heard about what I have been doing with my life and in the midst of her post to me she said "are you living those dreams you've always had?! I'm so happy and proud of you! You always were so talented!" Well... color me humbled. It wasn't what she said about me being talented or anything like that that brought me back to sanity... it was the fact that I looked at myself in the mirror she just held up to me, and I saw that I had placed myself back in middle school. Who cares if even the very worst possible scenario that I could think up IS true. I have had these dreams of mine for a very long time, that much is clear. They are the very first thing that are mentioned by a friend I haven't seen in YEARS. There have been scenes that actually played out that I made it through just fine, so why can't I get passed these imaginary ones? I need to take pride in the grown up that I am becoming, and leave my over sized magnifying glass to the next middle schooler that comes along. Words are such a freeing thing. They allow you to look at yourself in the mirror, hear the bell, pack up your bags and get back to life.

Whatever Is Lovely

The mind is a very powerful thing. It can take a situation and manipulate it into just about anything. Some call it lieing. Some call it insanity. Some call it imagination. Some call it art. I choose all of the above.

Everyone is a little bit crazy. You know that when you are home alone by yourself you start to talk to yourself. Or when you are in the car you start to sing maybe one or two lines of a song that have been playing through your head all day for no reason and then drop it. Or you look in the mirror and pretend you are someone else. Or walk out the door convincing yourself you really are someone else. No? Yeah that's what I thought.

When I was a kid I had a pack of imaginary friends, and I of course was the leader of them all. I usually tended to imagine that they all lacked something that I magically had, making myself feel superior to them in some way. Maybe one of them wasn't as pretty as I thought I was, or couldn't make people laugh like I thought I could. So I took these misfits under my wing and taught them all about as a six year old.

As a sixteen year old, the tables had swiftly turned. Life became really hard really fast, and all of the sudden this imagination of mine swirled out of control, painting pictures of failure, loss, and disappointment. I would wake up with a start at night with the lingering thought of "you just aren't good enough." The sad thing is I started to believe it, just like I believed with all my heart that my imaginary friends were as real as they come.

Life is always a transitioning phase whether you want to believe it or not. Things are ALWAYS changing, you just may not see it. I am very aware of the transition stage I am in right now... I need to step back into my own life I've started to build. I took a hiatus for a second, but it's time to be this grown up I want to be. Being in a vulnerable spot like that always makes you a little crazy. I'm an artist who desperately throws her heart into every aspect of life I possibly can, and I sometimes forget that the whole world can see. I don't live inside some sheltered place anymore, and that can be a daunting thing. I have bills to pay and expectations to meet, and I desperately don't want to fail.

My mom is a very wise woman. When I was a kid (and sometimes even now) I had some extremely realistic night terrors. I would run into her room and crawl up in bed with her, letting my tears soak her pillow. In her groggy state she would rub my eye brows and tell me "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praise worthy, think about such things." - Philippians 4:8 and with a kiss would send me back to my room. As I lay there I would think of the most beautiful things I possibly could, and would fall asleep to the thoughts of flower filled meadows and rainbows and chocolate and pretty shoes... all things little girls think are beautiful.

As I get ready to go to bed tonight, I am going to hush these insecurities by thinking of all of the lovely things in my life. Parents who love me enough to usher me into this awkward time between teenager and adult with grace and as much ease as they can muster. Two beautiful siblings that hold my heart in their precious little hands. Finally being able to be close to the family I hold so dear to my heart. Being able to pursue my dream as a career and also have a steady job that allows me to shoot for the stars. Friends that even though are mostly far away, have my best interest at heart. And most importantly a loving God, who has been so merciful to give all of these things to me.

Tomorrow I finally get to go back to work! It's going to be tiring I'm sure, but I'm praying it goes well. We will see soon enough!

I Love You. You Love Me.

There are a lot of things I don't understand. I don't understand why I had to learn algebra in high school under the pretense I would use it in my adult life. I don't understand why almost everything that tastes good, makes you fat. I don't understand why it's so easy to make your house dirty, yet so hard to make it clean. I most certainly don't understand why money is the object of most people's affection. I don't understand why selfishness is an acceptable trait in people. But the one thing that I really don't understand is love.

Love is a four letter word. It means so many different things that sometimes it doesn't mean anything at all. It's easy to say I love ice cream or I love that movie or when someone is talking about a friend they can say "oh I just love them" but when it's time to actually fill that word with power again, you go blank. You develop a catch in your throat. Your stomach begins to gurgle and you hope you don't throw up. Your palms start to sweat. You're eyes turn into slits and you begin formulating your escape route. And if by some act of God you can manage to get the "I" out of your now closed throat, you find some other phrase to follow it other than "Love you". Maybe you manage something like, "I need to go to the bathroom" or "I think you look beautiful tonight". And the even braver who can choke out that four letter word follow it with "this song" or "that dress". Anything to avoid telling someone you love them, and actually meaning it.

The reason I am suddenly on the subject of love is not my fault. I claim the childish excuse of "the media drove me to it". We are but two days away from the Hallmark holiday of Valentines day, and I've become cynical. To make myself feel better I have conned my baby brother into being my Valentine after he told me no the first three times. I finally wore him down with the bribe of a tootsie pop, but by then I just felt silly. So I started to wonder... why is love so tricky?

Dating is like this really awkward dance. The tempo is always changing and you don't always know what to do with yourself and your partner isn't always moving in the same direction as you. I know what love feels like, but I've always been afraid to actually say it. It's a rare moment that I am at a loss for words, but when that feeling creeps up on me and renders me an idiot for a moment, I crack under the pressure. I try and show it with my actions without actually having to say it, hoping that they will figure it out on their own. Well, that obviously hasn't worked, but at least I am learning.

I am surrounded by this four letter word every day. I think what makes it so complex is that it is a noun and a verb. It's a feeling and an action. It is a lifestyle. My grandparents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. My aunt is getting married next month to the love of her life. My parents have been together for ages and love each other more today than they did yesterday. And all of these people love me. And I love them. I have a best friend that tells me everyday he loves me, saying things like "You carry a lot of my love in you" to help me get through the hard times. I call him for no reason and sing the barney I love you song on his voicemail. Love is reserved for the ones that deserve it. It's the search for those candidates that make it the hardest. I have loved people that didn't deserve it, and treated it like it was nothing. Love is certainly not nothing, and it's sad that some people believe that it is. Loving another person is the bravest thing that any one person could ever do.

So I guess what I am getting at is that if you are blessed enough to know what love feels like, don't be afraid of it. Talk about it as much as you possibly can. Scream it if you have to. This is one four letter word that you don't have to spell out in front of the kids. Certainly don't cheapen it by only celebrating it one bogus holiday a year. Be secure enough in yourself to sing about it, even if it's off key. I love you. You love me. We're a happy family. With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you. Won't you say you love me to. See. It's that simple.

Line?!

I don't like lines. Any of them. I don't like to color inside them, wait in them, read between them, memorize them, or get hit on with them. Well I wouldn't mind the getting hit on with them one as much but you get my point. I feel like recently that's all there has been. Lines. Lines that I need to memorize for my next show. Lines I have to wait in to get seen at the doctors office. The lines I have to hear people give me that they think will make me feel better but in truth it only makes you look silly for not telling the truth, and the lines that I have to read between to understand what all of it means.

The last couple weeks have been rough. It's not so much that things were bad, even though some people might say they were, it was more that I was annoyed and discouraged. It's no secret that I have some issues with my health that creep up from time to time without my permission and usually at the worst time. It's like when your stomach growls really loud at a funeral. That's how I feel about my health sometimes. It growls at the worst possible moment and people stop to stare.

I was having a really rough time getting over a case of strep throat, so I frequented the doctor's office pretty regularly over the past three weeks. Doctor speak is always hard but when everyone is trying to be the hero and fix the unfixable, lines start to get crossed. It was a very hard thing for me to fight with them for the care I thought I needed seeing as they have the degree and I don't, but I'm the one that lives in this body, not them.

After many hours spread throughout the last several weeks of just battle after battle and hearing line after line I was discussing my care with one of the many nurses I had seen over the course of time. I was ready for her to hand me yet another line when she took my hand and said "You know what young lady, I admire you for fighting for yourself. I don't know many people who would to that." I kinda looked around the room for a second and realized that this complete stranger who had absolutely no obligation to encourage me had not fed me a line. My tear ducts of steel were momentarily breached, and I sent a little thank you up to God for the unexpected kindness.

As always, I have bounced back to normal, or whatever my normal is and things are just as they were. I take that back. They aren't the same, because with every situation you change, so things are what they should be for now. During this time, I have learned that you shouldn't really focus on your limitations, the lines you can't cross but rather at what God has given me that's in between. To see just how lucky I am, and just how much life I've been given the chance to live. Sure limitations are hard, especially when they taunt you, but in fact those lines make up the person that you are. It gives you shape and character and that special something that makes you the only you there will ever be. So I guess lines aren't all that bad after all.