Diva’s Lament

(sorry about the swear. This song just fits the title. And how about her voice, eh? Dang. :P)

Production week is finally here, and opening night is tomorrow! You’d think the nervous anticipation and good notes I’ve gotten would make me happy, but I am not.
I am furious.
Permit me to have a little fit of rage on this blog, will you? Thanks. I appreciate it.
I really am not loving my costume, you guys. I’m really not. First off, it’s made of this icky looking crushed velvet,

Say it with me, children: TACKY.

And it’s made in the style of the Austen-era dresses. So, like this:

Which sounds pretty in theory, but I discovered something: When you’re as short as I am, and your hips are as ample as mine, you end up looking like a pregnant walrus stuffed in a trash bag.
Which is all well and good, I mean, I can deal with that. I’m used to looking fat onstage, that just comes with the territory of having curves. But they decided to rub a little bit of salt in my fatty wound, because the sleeves are so tight I can barely move in them. Last time I checked, arm corsets weren’t in style, um, EVER. So I basically become Barney for the night.

Look deep into my eyes.

So my movements are extremely restricted, and that screws me up, because as the Queen of Hearts, I move a LOT. And instead of helping a sista out, the costumer said to suck it up and make it part of my character. Which irritates me, but I’ve learned to adapt- kinda. It’s still difficult, but it’s not nearly as bad as…. The Wig.
The wig deserves a special little corner of hell, to be perfectly frank. It’s horrible, it’s terrible, it’s itchy, it’s hot, it’s as ugly as golem,

Ugly? Whaddaya mean, ugly?

I just………. hate it. Maybe it’s because I’m in a show, so I’m just mentally in Broadway, but gosh, I feel like this towards the wig:

Just apply the lyrics to the wig. It’s perfectly fitting, and actually kind of hilarious to picture. Can’t you just see the girls singing about a wig? HA.
The thing is, I KNOW I’m not supposed to look “pretty” in this show. I GET THAT. But I hate being ugly. I already have self-image problems as is. I don’t need that horrid hairpiece getting in the way. It’s also not even CLOSE to looking steampunk, which is stupid, because that is what the whole freaking play is themed. I look like Edna Mode.


Or maybe this dude:

The possibilities are ENDLESS when you look this ugly!

I just realized we’re all short, loud, and sassy. Great. I really AM one of them now.
Anyway, I HATE the way it looks. It’s a very round shape, which makes my face look round, which makes my body look round. And as we’ve stated before, I have issues with that. So, I look like an evil Pillsbury dough boy. :^( I hate feeling like this. I hate being a brat. I hate being whiny. But I HATE feeling disgusting. I just look terrible. I was hoping I might look pretty in this one, but oh, no! Not so!
The horrible thing about it all is they won’t let me change it! I would willingly dye my hair black for this role, and there are so many other ideas that would actually FIT THE DANG THEME, but apparently, I’m a puppet with no mind of it’s own.


(I realize that was a tad dramatic and abrasive, but I’m still riding the adrenaline from tonight, and hello? I’m the queen. Aren’t I entitled to fits of rage??)

Favorite songs

Lately, I’ve really gotten into Bastille, and so have been listening to them pretty often, specifically the songs Pompeii and Things We Lost In The Fire. I guess I’ve passed the passion down to Dallin, because I caught him singing “Things We Lost In The Fire”- which was one of the proudest moments of my life. I couldn’t get him to sing for the camera, but I did get some pretty sick dance moves:

He’s kind of the most adorable kid. Ever.
Listen to the full song here:

It’s a good song! He’s got such good taste. :^)


Who we are

Lately I’ve been feeling less-than wonderful in regards to how the world sees me. I wish I was prettier, I wish I was skinnier, I wish I was taller (I really wish I was taller), I wish I was smarter…. The list goes on. And you’d think that maybe I’d be able to get over it, I mean, I’ve been through this before, many times, right?
Right. But each time the insecurities just keep piling up until I hardly know what to do with myself anymore. Why am I the way I am? Why can’t I just be better?
And then tonight, as I was getting out of the shower, wishing I had a different body, I thought about how God sees me, and I imagined what it must be like, to watch over your most precious creation and watch her hate who she is. God gave me this body, and I imagine it hurts him every bit as much as it hurts me when I belittle myself. Some things I can’t change. Some things are entirely in my control, and it’s not up to anyone else to change them except me. I need to love myself more. I need to see myself the way Heavenly Father sees me, because to him? I am enough. I am wonderful. I can really do anything I set my mind and heart to, and that is a wonderful thing.
Someday, I’ll meet a man who makes me feel on top of the world like that. Someday, I’ll have someone who completes me and makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, but for now, that’s my job. I need to feel beautiful and confident so that someday someone else will see that in me and appreciate all that I’ve done to get there.
Because feeling beautiful is hard, but it’s worth it.
Here’s a sweet video that sums it all up:

To the man who made this video: Thank you. I have happy tears. :^)

Just a little reminder. :^)