A Writing assignement (i think) from a Voice and diction class from Summer 2008

 31JAN09-Weekend:

I went to bed early last night.   It was partially because this last week was such a long long week.   The other reason was that I had a pretty decent headache.  It was a sinus headache, so there was really nothing I could do about it.   I decided to try some “yoga breathing” in order to calm myself enough to sleep despite the pain.
I decided to implement Linda's “see inside yourself” idea during this process.   I imagined my breath coming into my body and flowing around to every part of me.   I imagined that the breath ended up in my head pushing a screw (my conception of the pain) out of my forehead—a little bit further with every breath.     Though the pain never went away completely until long after I awakened this morning, while I was doing my “yoga breathing,”  the pain lessened.

27JAN09-Tuesday Class:

I love, love, loved the dancing to drum music!   I've enjoyed many of the aspects of the class since its inception, however, this was definitely on the top of the list.
The second half of class, however, was not as enjoyable.    I understood—completely--the need for the back/legs/massage exercise, but I felt so uncomfortable being paired with Scott.  I should have said something, but I wasn't sure how to do so without hurting Scott's feelings.   Talking with Jennifer afterward, I realized that she was also uncomfortable with being paired with Josh, but neither one of us said anything.   Her reason was solely that she was paired with a male, but mine was specifically because I was paired with Scott.
There were several reasons—some of them probably stupid ones:
a.  he was all sweaty and smelled as if he has just come from working out for an hour.   I didn't like having to touch him whilst he was sweaty.  I'm not much of a prissy, girly girl, but that bothered me.
b.  he was touching me and I was bent over in front of him and vice versa.   I'm not sure it would have bothered me as much if it had been another male from class or not.    
c.  I recognize in him something I dislike in myself and it is hard to be around him for that reason.  I will say that I can handle being around him and be respectful about it.  I will strive not to let him see my discomfort, but I am uncomfortable around him.   The reason is ridiculous, too.  Who am I to have this problem with him?   I suffer from the same deal—just a slightly different version of it.  ~sigh~  when am I going to grow up?


29JAN09-Thursday Class:

The “yoga breathing” was great again. It is always relaxing and I always DO seem to notice a different, more productive type of breathing when we do it.   
I enjoyed listening to everyone's monologue, although Josh's monologue from the Breakfast Club was difficult to hear because of all the cussing, but the world is full of it—so I'll just need to get used to it.
I hadn't really read my monologue since I chose it, so as I read it again, I was surprised by it's meaning something personal to me in more than one way.   And surprising to me that I could feel strongly on both sides of the “issue” it presented.
With Daddy and Mom, I am the girl saying those words.   I want to be accepted as the artistic, free-spirited, outgoing, simple person I am AND someone of worth in their eyes, yeah?   I want them to understand that I can be happy and useful in this world even though I don't live the more moneyed existence which they do.   I don't mind not having extra.   I like living a life wherein I make people happy and create.
But with my niece, Amelia, I wear the other shoe.   I am the “Daddy” and she is the one begging for acceptance.   Since the situation with Amelia just occurred last week, I hadn't realized that those words would affect me.   
                   “if you love me, you have to love all of me.”
Since the situation with Amelia, I wonder if that statement is true.   We can dislike the choices, attitudes, actions of someone, but still love them completely, can't we?    There is no royal fiat commanding that, if we love someone, we love everything about them, is there?   I don't even think that is possible.   Even married people who love each other like crazy dislike SOME things about their spouse, yeah?
I know she is fifteen and at that age where she craves drama and angst and so the fact that “Aunt Loralee” doesn't approve of something feels like she is being kicked around, unloved and even HATED (whatever Amelia—like I could EVER hate you.)
But it is hard for me to understand why she would REALLY think that I would not want to be a part of her life because she has made this choice.  It is hurtful to me that she (and her mother) would actually CONSIDER that I would not want her to be part of my life.    Did I not stay a part of my own mother's life, even though I had solid proof that she had chosen a life path which wasn't good for her?  What kind of monster do these members of my family  think I am?
You know what?   I just had an epiphany.  I feel  kicked around and unloved and HATED and misunderstood, too.    By the people who should know me and love  me more and better than anyone else on the whole wide planet.  


22JAN09-Thursday Class:

I loved the “Yoga Breathing” in class today.   I loved that the lights were off and we were lying down, and we were relaxing.   I was so comfortable and wished we could have done it for a longer period of time.   I could feel the breathe coming and going in my body.  I could actually almost see it flowing around me—reaching all the way down to the last phalange in my pinkie finger and pinkie toe.   I could feel it rush down my length from scapula to toe.  It was very refreshing.
Linda's instructions also brought back some unique memories for  me.      I remembered that one summer when Mother lived at 1201.  She and Larry must have been at work.  Lana might not have come this particular summer.   Jonathan and I had thrown the pillows on the floor and were jumping up and down on the couch and jumping from couch to pillow to other piece of furniture.    During one of these flights from piece to piece, I landed wrongly on my ankle and hurt it.  I remember that we called Mother at work, but she couldn't leave.  She called a friend who lived nearby to help.  I remember the lady very clearly.   Tall, husky blonde lady with short hair.  She must have been a part of Mother's coven because she started talking about the injury the way Mother always did.     “I'm placing my hands on your ankle.  I want you to notice the temperature of my hands.  I'm going to draw the heat and pain out of your ankle.   I want to to feel it being drawn out.  Close your eyes and FEEL it being drawn out.”
I remember that it helped only a little, but it helped.  To be honest, I imagined that the “help” had come mostly because time had passed and the pain would have lessened anyway.    But she wanted to help.  She wanted to take the pain into herself.  She wanted to make my world a better place, so when she asked me if she had helped, I told her “Yes.”

20JAN09-
I came to the first class thinking that I would only be here for a day.  But after the class, I realized that it was somewhat fortuitous that I chose this particular class as a “placeholder” for a beginning acting class.   I think I NEED this class.
I'm excited about it.