A Little Spice of Nutmeg

Monday, May 25, 2009

And I Choose...

"Because you never know where life is gonna take you and you can't change where you've been, but today, I have the opportunity to choose"

India.Arie is a goddess. I truly, truly mean that. She's the type of goddess that demands to be worshipped - like cats were in Ancient Egypt. Or wait, maybe they were killed. No, wait, that's the Middle Ages I'm thinking of.... yes, they were definitely worshipped.

(note to self, Wikipedia "worship cats, Egypt")

Ok, that actually has nothing to do with the point of this blog. The whole point of this blog was to discuss feelings.

So back to India Arie. There are a handful of artists who have saved my life, and I don't use that expression lightly, over the years. The ones who inspire passion, who remind me those little nuggets of truth, when I have so forgotten. India.Arie has slowly become my artist of choice over the past year, my own personal guru who is so easily accessible on iTunes, the one who I pose a question to and 2 minutes later she is answering it in song, verse, and some of the sweetest guitar sounds there are.

This show that I am in now, we are heading into the final 10 days pre-concert time, and so I find myself immersed in all the music that our fabulous fearless leader Jessi Nicholson has chosen so carefully... and ya know, every day I find myself thanking my lucky lucky stars to be involved in this project.

In case you don't know what project it is, I am singing background vocals for Jessi Nicholson's band Journey Into Eye. It's her baby, this project, and she is such a talented and driven (not to mention fabulous!) professional, that I am blessed to work with her. And, insert shameless plug here: we are playing June 4th, 10pm, at the Backstage Lounge in Granville Island, tix $10 in advance, $12 at the door (email me at megnatphil@hotmail.com for tix!)

So I bring up the show - not Just to lure you into buying tickets, hehehe, but for a deeper reason: I needed to explore my evolution up until now.

i was swimming, yesterday, and in the pool, I realized just how far I've actually come. I swim because it's the only - and yes, I mean ONLY - cardio exercise I can do without any pain. And I was kinda groaning, because I was starting to get bored in the pool, and as I was going through the front crawl motions I decided, OK, I'm finishing this lap, then i'm outta here.

And all of the sudden, India.Arie's "and I Choose" popped into my head. Are you familiar with her lyrics? If not, I will paste some of them here:

I Choose to be the best that I can be
I choose to be authentic in everything I do
my past don't dictate who I am
I Choose

And this part of the song just looped through my head. It looped. I was looping through the pool, swimming my laps, and India was looping through my head.

But, like, I just got to thinking, "Sheeeeit... I do choose. I do!" We like to think that we don't choose. A lot of times, we hope that we don't choose, we soooo hope that we don't, because then we're not accountable, right? We're not accountable for the bad stuff. The gross stuff.

I have more to write about this, but it's late, and I need to go to bed. So for now, I'll just leave you with India's "I Choose"... and you can take from it what you need.

Love,
Mega

Sunday, March 8, 2009

I wrote some poems today...

... and I'd like to share them with you.

They are rough, they may have some parts that are desperately calling for a thesaurus, and the first one especially goes on a little long...
but here ya go.

********************************************************************************************
ODE TO COOKIES
(or, Fuck You, Cookies)

Fuck you,
cookies.

You with your tantalizing eyes
your ravishing lips
those seductive lashes

You gaze at me with unspoken fulfillment of ...

?

Whispering,
Calling,

Promises. Promises. Promises of
What you will bring

What I will

GAIN

Better.

The world will

SPIN

its axis.

Life Aligns itself

All in that first bite of

<3 COOKIE <3

So I run to my Enabled legs
I Race across town

And...suddenly... suddenly...

I'm there

We meet,

I am the fly, Stuck in the Siren call
of the
DoubleChocolateChunk
The Web has taken over
I am PARALYZED or shouldIsay
POSSESSED

DoubleChocolateChunk has become DoubleChocolateChunkandMacademiaNut

DoubleChocolateChunkandMacademiaNut takes over it

has a Mind now

(It's alarmingly like mine)

not whispers but COMMANDS

I obey

Mechanically, I REACH

the PULL stronger than the PUSH

like Martial Arts. A Martial
ARTIST
would be stronger would resist
the SIREN

I am not a martial
ARTIST

I am weak

"that'll be $6.50"

My last $6.50 before overdraft
to pay
bank fees
from this morning's
LatteAndBiscottiIt'sHealthierThanACookie

"Debit,

Please"

30 seconds and it is over.

I am the Weak
I am the Defeated

I am not a Martial
ARTIST

the world spun 360
It lost alignment

I hear a faint cry
I turn my ear and eye in its direction

There is a
SIREN

Now, she is held by a Thin
a Fit
a Hot

"I am her eater and I am not Fat
You can eat me you will not be

Fat"

Martial
ARTISTS would say No

I am not a Martial
ARTIST

"That'll be $8.50"

$8.50 into overdraft
2 weeks till payday
no cash
DebitTransactionsEqualBankFees

"DEBIT"

I am the Weak
I am the Defeated

Never will Life resemble my dream

I am not a Martial
ARTIST

Nor am I a Thin
a Fit
a Hot

I am a Weak
a Lone
a Fraid

I am a Unrealized

Tomorrow will be the same
There is no Change

Fuck you,

COOKIES
********************************************************************************************

Fuck You, Martial Artists

I am a Weak
a Lone
a Fraid

I see Martial
Artists,

Artist
Marshalls,

Mar-tysts

What the

FUCK

They omit and Enjoy

Life.

I tried

I pretended, once, I pretended

I was a good

Martial
Artist

Artist
Marshall

Mar-tyst

Sometimes

I still

Pretend

Not now.

********************************************************************************************

(no name)

I see you Eating,

Thin
Why can't I
Still
be Eating

Chewing
Swallowing
Tasting
Breathing

Instead, I breathe and
I feel

Bitter

Bitter

...like Vinegar
on fries

FRIES

would be nice....

********************************************************************************************

(no name #2)

There is so much

I

Could

do

It's a shame I am

Lazy

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Revelations 2:17 - "I love you just the way you are, Blueberry Muffin"

Yes, as the catchy title denotes, on this 17th day of February, I have had yet another revelation. Are you ready for it?

To paraphrase Strawberry Shortcake circa 1989, "Don't change yourself, Blueberry Muffin, especially not because you think other people want you to. I love you just the way you are."

If Strawberry Shortcake was some smokin' hot dude and Blueberry Muffin was an equally hot, size-12-pants and accident-prone chicka who oddly resembles myself, and they felt pretty much zero sexual attraction to each other, perhaps I might have taken more note of that life lesson at the tender age of 6: that lesson that, well, perhaps I'm actually ok just as I AM... and that it is possible to still be clumsy AND loved - PLUTONICALLY - by a guy.

Unfortunately, growing up in an environment where I spent most of my childhood crying into a 4L tub of Oreo ice cream after being made fun of by 10-year-old boys for relatively inconsequential parts of myself I had very little control over (you know, like my thighs), I did not heed Strawberry Shortcake's words at ALL. In fact, for the past quarter century of existence, I've held this delusion that I am just not worthy of hot guys. Not to have as boyfriends, not be their friend, not even as a distant relative. That guys who I find attractive live on this pedestal across an impossible chasm, and not only would they never find Hideous Me equally attractive, but they are not even *remotely* accessible as human beings: they're like these androids that you can watch from afar but don't even bother trying to jump the fence to have a close look.

And I won't even get INTO those nighttime fantasies I would fall to sleep to: fantasies of princes on white stallions, riding into my sad awkward social life, plucking me from the crowd, crowning me, paying off my debt (that part entered around age 22-ish), and letting me show them off to all the guys who'd rejected me in the past. How did that show up in my real life? Easy. I just tried to seduce every good-looking guy I laid my eyes on, no pun intended.

And of course that's worked out exceedingly well.

Now, I bring this up because I had a particulary painful experience tonight involving a boy, let's call him Mr. C, who loves me back... like a SISTER. Once again I was duped! This time, I was SO SURE it could happen. I mean, come on, he talked about the UNIVERSE for chrissake, we were MEANT to be together!

So, long story short, things came to a point where I was expecting some shizzle to go down with Mr. C, (like, we're talking down south if ya catch my drift...)... and they didn't. And I was like, huh, that was almost as satisfying as if I was all pumped to eat at this new fancy restaurant with reservations for months, no one else has tried it but they're all raving about it... and then after a particulary long drive to Golden, BC, I find out this place is a shoe-shine stand that sells wraps. Sometimes.

In this particular situation, my shoe-shine stand was most definitely denied the wraps.

So then I did this new thing where I asked for clarity, for truth in the situation. And I not only asked the Universe and my 3 girlfriends (whose 'truth' is, "oh sweetie, you are SO much better than him, you SO deserve more, you don't need this loser"), but I asked Mr. C. Himself. And the answer?

"Well, yeah, I love you. Like a sister."

And you know it's that "sister"-word... it must be the sibilance... that twists that knife in the heart... you know the one i'm talking about, right?

But... here's the thing. If you don't know me... You don't know that I grew up with a single mother, with all sisters. To have a real conversation with a guy my age felt almost as possible as making my sister stop watching Grey's Anatomy for a whole season. When talking to Mr. C, I might as well have just been visiting the dentist, because most of my conversations with him involved me drooling and slurring my speech.

So ya know what? Maybe... just maybe... the Universe is kinda saying, "brothers are cool too". Because let's face it: if i'm going to choose my own brother, I'm going to damn well choose a bro who accepts his clumsy, sometimes-gluttonous, often-socially awkward sis for who she is.

And... it's gotta work both ways, too. If I expect to be loved as the sloppy emotional mess I often am, then right back atcha. And what better way to practice for this future Man of mine than on the trial run of a brother.

So, in short? Strawberry Shortcake knew her shizzle, and don't let anybody tell you otherwise.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Giving Up? or Growing Up?

"So, if you were hired, we would expect a commitment of Tuesday through Saturday, 10-6pm, as well as any shifts that your staff would be missing. We would expect you to be an exemplary role model, as your position would require disciplinary measures and coaching for your staff."

Gulp. MY staff?

I had an interview today. A real, live interview. Not an audition... (i know, i was confused too...) but an INTERVIEW. For a full-time, salaried position. With set hours, salary, and benefits. BENEFITS!!!!!! Meaning... incentives for going to the doctor, taking a lunch break, getting that long-overdue dental cleanup. It was for management in arts administration, 40 hours/week. They asked me about my skills in managing people, in disciplinary action, in how I would approach the job. It would be ME who would be scheduling OTHER people... and it would be MY responsibility if they didn't show up for their shift. So in other words, I've got to put my Big Girl Panties on and shoulder the responsibility.

I've also been applying for other full-time jobs, ones that are perhaps a little more flexible, yet still along the basic line of what I've been doing: $12/hour or so, 20-40 hours/week. So, hourly, no benefits... yet time-wise, flexible. AND, Scheduling would still be done in advance - so, calling off a shift last-minute would be out of the question. Although, I would still be paid less, have more time, create "art"...

... and still be dirt poor.

I tell you this not because I'm looking for advice, or sympathy, or monetary donations (although all would be gratefully accepted... especially the latter...personal cheques accepted with valid photo ID...), but moreso because this whole experience is bringing up a massive can of worms. Like, we're talking Costco-size here. And that can of worms is this:

Am I giving up? Or am I growing up?

All my life I've judged others based on their work. It hasn't been a conscious thing... and I didn't mean for it to be mean... but in retrospect, some of these thoughts have been pretty darn harsh. I've always considered anyone who's working a Day Job as "non-committed" to their art. Like they've "given up" on their passion, they've sold out. I've always seen these people as all TALK - like, "well, I trained in New York, and now I'm living in Langley and I'm teaching... I want to go back some day, but it's just not financially feasible for me right now...the business is HARD, and I really miss it, but you gotta pay the bills, I haven't really auditioned lately..." yadda yadda yadda. And I've listened to these people talk, smiling and nodding and bobbing my head to "show" that I'm ALL on their side, that I really respect their decision...

but you know what? Inside it's been a whoooole different story. Inside, I've seen them work their day jobs and I've listened to them talk and I've watched them kinda-auditioning for semi-pro shows and thinking, "WOW. they have FAILED... I'll never be like that. I'll always keep my flexibility, because acting and singing and dancing is my passion. And I"ll ALWAYS make auditions a first priority, and I'm going to be famous by the age of 25, and I am amazing and they are not.." And no, I"m not proud of these thoughts I've had. But they were there.

And then, lately, I've been shopping around for different restaurants that serve different dishes in life. You know, like the "being honest" cafe, and Chez-"committing to things" on "I just turned 25 and my ankle is arthritic and I have no money to my name" Street. And since this blowout with Dad, I tried the "OH GOD I need to move the hell out!!!" diner, which is serving this new type of pie - have you tried it? You know.. that kind that sort of brings out steel toed boots and kicks you in the ass? It's called "humble" pie. If you haven't tried it yet, I don't recommend it. Or maybe I do. I don't know yet. I'm still halfway through my serving.

But regardless -- it was this incident that propelled me into applying for jobs. Day jobs. REAL jobs. Jobs with "routine". Jobs with "structure". Jobs with everything that I've always said that I'm AGAINST. Like... think of it this way. It's like an environmental activist who, after spending 10 years overtly imparting his values of Green-this, Green-that to everyone he meets, goes ahead and applies for a job at an oil refinery in Alberta.

I'm exaggerating, of course. Sort of.

In serious, though... haven't I always said that money doesn't matter? That it's how you feel, and that leads to What you Do? That your thoughts create your reality and action has to be inspired, and then your dreams will come true?

I feel like all of that was incredibly ignorant. When I remember myself saying these things to friends, this image comes to mind of a bossy child loudly giving directions in life to another peer who is forced into submission, and I kind of cringe a little bit.

Because... moving out means paying rent. Paying rent requires money. Money comes from... trees? Anyone want to donate a Money Tree? Because, truth be told, I have not made one dime from my acting. Not one DIME. I've made some income from my singing - corporate gigs, you know - and lots of gifts in kind...but I'd like to meet the landlord who accepts a lifetime's supply of Free Opening Night Tickets to the Gateway and the $75 from my corporate gig last year in exchange for May's rent (Seriously. If you meet him, send him my way...)

And it's funny, because my friends are of two mindsets. There is nobody who is sitting on the fence with this one. They either fall into the "oh FINALLY, you're growing up, welcome to the REAL WORLD!" mentality; or it's the "Oh God, well, there goes your acting career, I guess... I'm so sorry for your loss, when's the funeral?"

And can I tell you the truth? We're friends here, right? So I'll be honest:

I'm worried that I won't get the job. Because I'm qualified. I've grown a HELL of a lot in the past 2 years. And I feel confident about my interview... I can envision myself working for the two women who interviewed me, fulfilling my responsibilities, and managing others effectively. I can see myself working in a professional manner, and the money is amazing, and I really would kick ass at this. I can see myself enjoying it, committing to it, being useful.

And... I'm worried that I will get the job. Because if I get it, I"ll take it. And I'll be professional, and I'll give myself to the contract, and I'll work set hours, and I'll have staff that I'm responsible for, and I'll spend 1 hour in commute there and 1 hour in commute home and 8 hours working on the computer and dealing with people and have an office and be able to make plans in advance and pay my rent and stay off the ankle ...

... And...

where does that leave Megan, the famous actress? Megan, the Wild Child? Megan, the free spirit? What happens to THAT identity?

And...

in accepting this position... is it the end of an era? Does accepting the fact that it is, in fact, physically painful to audition and stand in rehearsal for hours at a time, mean that I'm giving up? That I, too, have joined the ranks of, "well, acting is so great and I love it but you know what, it doesn't pay the bills so I've just got to get a real job and I'll just have to learn to enjoy routine and 9-5 and maybe one day I'll retire but until then i'll just eat lots of food to deal with the pain and divert my attention from my failure in living in suburbia, getting married, and just making do with my life"?

I don't know. I just don't know. But there you have it. 25, unemployed, scared shitless to be employed, scared shitless to not be employed.

So, my point? Cheques can be made out to MEGAN PHILLIPS -- that's no H and 2 L's, and mailed to...

Monday, January 12, 2009

don't do drugs.

So here's the thing.

I keep talking, talking, talking. Telling the people around me that "I'm looking to switch into writing", "it will help me find my creative voice", that I'm "writing more"...

*cough* BULLSH*T!!! *cough*

Me and Hermie 2 headed to Starbucks today. Btw, Hermie 2 is my newly named freshly minted Macbook, a very dumpy name to suit such a svelte, beautiful machine - but it's kind of a Family name, you see... much like an unfortunate hot jenny-mccarthy lookalike named Gertrude Bertha Hogg due to some outdated family moniker that REALLY should have just died with the relative.... anyways, in any case, Hermie 2 is named in honour of my very first laptop.

Anyways. So me and the Hermster (I just felt my computer shudder - i'm sorry Herms, it's gotta be done) went to Starbucks, where I found out they have free wireless. Free wireless!!!! Every day!!! for 2 hours!!!! JUST for having a starbucks card!!! I've had a starbucks card longer than I've had a Credit Card, and I feel like i'm FINALLY getting redeemed for it! Hallelujah!!

So I get to Starbucks. And I set up shop. I turn on the computer, I plug it in, I boot up MS Word, I even OPEN my one-woman-show file. YAY! I think to myself... "this is so fabulous! I am gonna get SO much done".

And then comes... Mozilla Firefox. After spending a few minutes just figuring out which buttons to push, I get in.

And... enter the blackout.

How does that even HAPPEN? How does 1 hour and 58 minutes pass me by and I don't even so much THINK about my show? Or even, for that matter, my blog?! Or if I do, it's with a tone of revulsion. REVULSION?!? MY show??? My baby?

How can I think these things about my babies? My long, conveluded point is:

don't do drugs.

No, no, no... wait, come back! I'm kidding!!! What I MEANT to say was, "don't do drugs at starbucks".

kidding AGAIN!!! geez. tough crowd.

So no, in all seriousness: why is it that this one thing I keep telling people I want to stem into - even just as a HOBBY - is the last thing on my plate. Researching Mazdas in Texas took priority today over cleaning up grammatical errors on my show.

Procrastination. It's a bitch...

and don't do drugs.

Friday, January 2, 2009

25.256... but who's counting?

I turned 25 almost 2 weeks ago.

Having a Christmas birthday has always been somewhat of a relief for me... a wonderful time to be distracted from all the fears that one more year of missed commitments, of lapsed subscriptions and gift cards, of artfully dodging extended family member's questions of "so where are you working now?". Not only has it been one more year of continual unemployment, of falling under the poverty line when it comes to income, and bringing my level of debt to an entirely new $1000 level; it's been one more year of unfulfilled promises, of singledom, of living at my parent's house.

There is a great deal of inertia focussed around here. Sigh. Perhaps I should find an audience for this blog...

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Hello, hello, hello!

Well hi there!!

My name is Megan. I am an actor/writer/singer/dancer/healer hailing from Vancouver, BC. I am starting a truly exciting journey this year and I look forward to bringing y'all with me.

I've been focusing on acting and the performing arts as my main career for about 2 years now, and I am highly passionate about what the Arts bring to an audience. I'm going through a crazy time of transition and clarity and wondering, truly, what *is* the point of it all?

My dad is a massive influence in my life right now, and he is saying "it's time to Get Real, get a steady income coming in", and I've been feeling a great deal of resistance towards this. I just don't know how to ask for money for the services I provide! and I'm very confused. There are lots of amazing things I must bring to the world, right?

So that's what this blog is about. Stepping into financial and material abundance through finding and maintaining (as well as I can!) a spiritual abundance. I know it is possible, and I want my readers to know this too.

With love,
Megan