My Tried-And-True, Make-Me-Famous Diet and Exercise Plan!

So I was one of those losers who made a New Year's Resolution to eat better and go to the gym more. I'm doing it a little differently this year though. Instead of following a specific dieting or exercise plan, I'm just kind of winging it. That's usually a disaster for someone like me - I usually require very strict rules for this sort of thing, otherwise I go tumbling off the wagon faster than you can blink. But I figured that I'd give the whole no-structure thing a try, and see where it went. 

After a month of doing things my way and still seeing results, I excitedly spoke to my parents about how much money I'm going to make when I market this delightful new weight-loss and tone-up plan to the masses. I've seen results in only 4 weeks - that's even less than the Special K diet boasts, and my way sucks a lot less than eating Special K for 2 meals a day! 

But since I love you guys, my dear readers, I'm going to let you in on the secrets of my plan. It's called the "Eat as much greek yogurt, eggs, and salad as you want, chug one protein shake after every work out, drink lots of water, and go to the gym 4 or 5 times a week" plan. 

As I explained this to my mother, I stopped to laugh as soon as I finished reciting that very long title, and said "Oh wait... someone has already come up with that, haven't they? It's called common sense." 

As much as I'm sure Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers don't want you to know this, the biggest dieting secret of them all is that there IS no epic weight loss secret, and you don't have to pay any of these companies to tell it to you. I haven't cut anything completely out of my diet. I still have a drink when I'm out at the bar. If I'm PMSing and I want a piece of chocolate, I have it. I just do what makes sense. Eat things that you know have nutritional value, not empty calories. Don't drink away your calories with soda and sugary juices when you can have water, coffee, or all natural juice. Don't get suckered in by all the frozen diet meals that have enough sodium to choke a horse. (Yea, I eat them sometimes too, just not EVERY NIGHT). 

And if you do have a night where, say, it's your birthday and this guy you used to work with brings you his awesome lemon squares and you're at your favorite bar with the great mozzarella sticks and you can't help but have some... go ahead. Don't beat yourself up about it, but just don't let it happen again for a little while. And maybe push yourself a little harder at the gym the next day. The more you deny yourself things and make yourself miserable, the less you're going to want to stick to it. Any woman knows that telling yourself you can't have chocolate when you're PMSing is cruel and unusual punishment. 

So the bottom line here is... you can lose weight, or tone up, and see results in a fairly short time just by USING COMMON SENSE! It's not as bad as you think it's going to be. 

~Jessica

When I Grow Up...

When we're kids, we all talk about what we're going to be when we grow up. And for years now, I've been waiting for that magical moment when I "grow up". When I'm a full fledged adult, and I look like it, and I act like it. But I look around me, and I look at my peers, and all I can think is... we're getting older, but we're not growing up. Or at least, a lot of us aren't. Our manner of dress hasn't changed, and we still watch the same kinds of movies. Some of us go to work, but we still talk and act the same way we did in high school. Is there some big change that is still forthcoming, or did I blink and miss it? 

Or is it that there's no great change at all? I can point to people ten years my senior who are no further along in their lives than I am right now. I can point to people twenty years my senior who have established careers, but socially behave as though they're still 17. I can look at so many people that I know, or am friends with, and wonder "Do we ever really grow up?" 

In some cases, it makes me happy. I like knowing that there's no cut-off age for thinking Harry Potter is cool, and that I'm still allowed to get excited over watching a Disney movie. But in many cases, it troubles me deeply. Does this mean that we might not necessarily reach a point where we're willing to commit to mature relationships? Are some people just never going to stop being selfish and insensitive? Is binge drinking going to continue to be amusing to some of us for the next fifteen years? Is dabbling in drugs still going to be the fad when we're in our thirties? When are we going to look in the mirror and say "Alright, it's time to stop this bullshit."? 

Those of you who have known me a while know that I have dated a very wide range in ages. In spite of this, many of the older men I've dated were no more mature than I am right now. Sure, I had the one who actually acted his age (with the appropriate degree of bitterness to boot... oy!) but most of the rest? Not so much. I mean, really, who continues to string women along and manwhore at age 46? Who continues to lay around the house stoned into their 30's? I have a less wide-ranging view of women, simply because most of my female friends are a lot closer to my own age. But we're not angels either - most of my female friends in college didn't give a crap about when they graduated, or if they did at all. We're living in the age of apathy, it would seem. No one cares enough to motivate themselves to do the right thing... or to do anything at all! 

The more I sit around and think about it, the more I think my epiphany about growing up actually came three years ago, when my roommate dropped out of college. I had gone off to college and immediately morphed into an OBNOXIOUSLY good girl. I went to class every day, I got good grades, I made Dean's List (a trend that I believe continued every semester), I got a job (which I still have), I didn't drink (oh, how the mighty have fallen...), or smoke, or do drugs, or have sex (What? Don't have sex, because you get pregnant and die!). The more my roommate cut class, drank, and didn't fulfill her obligations, the more I took it upon myself to succeed and prove that I was above that kind of behavior. I still think that in my first year of college, I aged about 10 years. 

And yet, it hasn't done me much good. I've graduated now, but I don't feel any more grown up. And looking around me, I'm not sure I'm supposed to. I don't know anyone in their 20's who I would consider a grown up, and I have friends who are married, engaged, pregnant, working, graduated, raising kids, and all manner of other things one would associate with "adulthood". But still, something's missing. Perhaps it's in the way we carry ourselves, or the way we regard ourselves. Perhaps we don't want to get there yet - perhaps we're not ready. Or perhaps we're already as grown up as we're going to get...

~Jessica

An Education

I just finished re-watching a film my ex-boyfriend introduced me to over the summer. It's called "An Education", and it's about a young girl studying to apply to Oxford who falls for with an older man. He shows her the finer and more exciting things in life, though throughout the course of the film, it becomes apparent that he's not the most upstanding of citizens. However, in spite of being an incredibly intelligent girl, and in spite of seeing this unfortunate truth, the girl sticks it out. She sticks it out until it's impossible to do so any longer. 

All through the film, I'm sitting there shaking my head. "Get out while you can, Jenny," I think, the first time she questions this man's character. Because I've been in her shoes. We all have, I think. We find someone we like, they make our life exciting, and so we make concessions. We overlook their flaws. We let them get away with murder because it's easier to just focus on the good things, and ignore the less savory traits, even if we logically know we're there.

I've probably done this more times than one person ever should. I've dated some real douchebags, manipulators, potheads, manwhores, unmotivated slackers, insensitive assholes, and emotionally abusive jerks. When I'm really lucky, I get a spectacular combination of many of these traits in one loser. 

AND YET...

When it comes to the end, I'm always the one who gets dumped. I'm never the one to walk away first. And somehow, I always wind up heartbroken. Which is the mother of all ironies, considering that by that point, I've realized that I'm in a bad situation, and haven't done anything to change it. In fact, once I'm deeper into relationships, I find that I spend  a lot more time miserable than I spend happy. Whether it's because I'm worried about the other women they're seeing, or frustrated that they're not communicating with me, or straight up angry that they're taking me for granted, I am often unhappy. 

So as I watch this film, and I watch this girl stick it out because things are exciting, and maybe that balances out the sting of sadness when something bad happens, I see myself. And I see many of my friends, too. I've hated plenty of guys my friends have gone out with, and I'd never understood why they were sticking it out with them as much as we tried to make them see they were no good. 

Why in the heck do we do it? Why do we subject ourselves to that kind of unhappiness? It doesn't make any sense. I know I tell myself when I'm in the moment that the moments of happiness outweigh all the things that I can see so plainly to be wrong. And maybe they are. But most of the time... I don't think so. 

I think sometimes we're blinded and comforted by the kind of security there is in being in a relationship, even if it's a bad one. I was always able to find some sort of comfort in the idea that at the end of the day, I had someone, and I had hope that it would work. Even if I was miserable at the time. Which makes no sense at all, because hoping it would work would only be hoping to resign myself to more misery, or hoping that the guy would change and suddenly stop sleeping with other women, or sitting on the couch smoking pot, or manipulating my emotions. And we all know that the latter doesn't happen - we can't change people who don't want to be changed. 

So what do we do? How do we learn from our mistakes and get ourselves out of situations we know are no good for us? Am I the only one who continues to make the same mistake over again? 

~Jessica

Stuck

Earlier this week, I got a phone call from a theatre in Virginia where I had applied for a job nearly a month ago. I've been firing off resumes left and right lately, but I haven't gotten many calls. In fact, I was taken completely off guard by what turned into a phone interview, because it had been so long since I'd applied, and I didn't really think I'd get the job. 

Later in the day, two of the people on my reference list contacted me to let me know the theatre had contacted them to ask about me, and that they'd given me glowing reviews. Now, I'm generally a pessimist when it comes to the job hunt, but after hearing this, even I had to stop and think about it for a moment.

The job would require me to pick up and move to Virginia for a year. If they offered it to me... would I go? 

I wasn't sure then, and I'm not sure now. For as much as I always want to just go someplace else, there is always something holding me back. Some doubts, or some attachments, there's always something. 

So what's holding me back this time? Well, for starters, I've still got a few months left on the lease for my apartment. I'm not going to get to live in a building this nice for a long time after my lease is up, so I might as well enjoy it, right? And my retail job... I don't like it anymore, and yet, after 3+ years I still haven't been able to pack it in and just quit. And then there's a boy. There's always a boy. There's always a boy, the situation is always complicated, but it always makes me want to stick around with high hopes that things will work out for me. They generally don't, but hey, who knows? 

It's ironic, but the thing I never seem to worry about is my friends and family. My family is my family, and they'll be here for me when I get back regardless of where I go. And my friends, if they're true friends, will be too. So when I look at the stuff that makes me doubt whether I should leave... I feel stupid. 

A friend of mine from high school packed up and moved to New Zealand last week. I had fallen mostly out of touch with him, and was completely shocked when he told me. And incredibly jealous. Partially because I've always wanted to go to New Zealand, but mostly because he's got courage and freedom that I crave, but never seem to have. 

I can't figure out why, but it seems I always feel stuck. 

~Jessica

2010 In Retrospect

I rang in the new year in another country this year. That's right, I got to celebrate and count down a few hours before most of the people reading my blog, because I was in London with my study abroad program. I can look back on the trip and say that I had a lot of fun, but the fact of the matter is, I spent a good deal of time being miserable while I was there. However, I don't regret it for an instant, and I think it was one of the most important things I've ever done in my life. 

I went to Oxford while I was there, and in spite of all the traveling I did in the past year, it remains to this day the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my entire life. I would pack up and move there in an instant if it wasn't for the fact that I'd be immediately rendered destitute because of the miserable exchange rate. Instead, I've covered the walls of my apartment with framed photos of my trip, so that I can always take a moment, and appreciate the memories. 

I turned 21 this year, and began to exercise my legal right to drink myself silly. I still have yet to drink myself so silly that I've thrown up, and I'm quite proud of myself for that. For those of you wondering when this story is going to get as interesting and dramatic as my life has the tendency to be, fear not, for my love life kicked up sometime in February, when I reconnected with an old friend...

After a few conversations that pointed in a hopeful direction, I headed off to Ohio, home of the Browns, the Bengals, many cornfields, and the now-burned-down Touchdown Jesus. There, I met up with my amazing friend Robbie, who lead me to reconnect with my long lost crush who would, in the coming months, become my boyfriend. The irony of the term cannot be properly understood without the information that he was, in fact, twice my age. Those of you who have known me for a while are not at all surprised. After a night of drinks, gossip and catching up in Ohio, we set our first real date for the following week, back in New York City. 

Thanks to the wonderful invention of Skype, the relationship clicked, and made it through until April. (Ironically, it was also this month that I met the man who would later be dubbed "Prince Charming", though I have no memory of the day we met.) In April, I packed myself, and my friends Danielle and Megan into my father's car, and drove us all down to North Carolina. For me, the trip was to visit my boyfriend. For them, the trip was to see a performer they really liked. Fun times were had by all, and we visited a plantation that was supposedly haunted, and continued our road trip tradition of ordering Dominoes for dinner. 

May kicked softball season into full swing (pun intended), and I spent much of my spring and summer just as I had every other year for the past five years - with my butt parked on a dusty bleacher and my camera in my hand. One of my favorite photography projects has been the photos I've taken of my friends and their teammates. Though I do also play, this year I didn't because I was completing my final semester of college, and had to sprint from school to get to the games, and couldn't always be on time. My friend Greg, in the photo above, played his last season (for the time being anyway) before moving to the west coast, but he knocked a few great home runs into the next field before he left! 

Ah, June. The photo above is the only photo on the fact of the planet that exists of myself and the infamous That Man. It is a blurry cell phone photo from a bar where we both drank too much tequila, and it has never been shared online. It is, however, tacked to my bulletin board to this day. I went home with him that evening, and we fell asleep in bed together. In the morning, I kissed him on the forehead as I left, he was too hungover to say goodbye. It was the last time I ever saw him, and the last time I ever will. 

I celebrated the Fourth of July with my family at our house in Cape May. I've decided that in the future, fireworks are something that most definitely require a tripod. I also completed college the week after, though it will likely be 2011 before I hold the physical degree in my hand. After graduating, I spent most of the month job hunting, and secured work on two shows, as well as a volunteer position in a costume shop. I also finalized plans to visit my boyfriend in August. He never heard about tequila night. Some things are just best left unsaid. "I'm still in love with the man who broke my heart" is one of them. 

August was an eventful month - jobs, parties, traveling, and a rather tumultuous time in my love life. (As if my love life is ever stable) In August, I visited my boyfriend in Milwaukee. Let me tell you, the only thing more uncomfortable than ending a long distance relationship is ending a long distance relationship while you're visiting. Especially when you've still got two days left. After a mix of sightseeing, sex, tearful arguments, and silence, we agreed that we'd remain friends, and I returned home, where I ran promptly into the arms of the man henceforth known as Prince Charming. 

And so the month continued, with the sting of the breakup passing quickly into oblivion as I fell fast and hard for another guy who would toss my heart into a blender. I took him out to Six Flags for his birthday, and it was the first time I could remember that a guy would hold my hand in public. 

I continued work at my first real wardrobe job, on two Shakespeare plays in a park in Brooklyn. We performed Romeo and Juliet, and Julius Caesar, and it was baptism by fire. I was thrown into the park with no tools, no resources, and a hell of a lot of obstacles, but I'm proud to say that I did my best, came out on top, and have been working more or less consistently in wardrobe jobs ever since. The photo above was taken when we had to punch new holes in belts half an hour before a performance with no tools besides our seam rippers, prop daggers, scissors, and keys. Just one of many interesting tasks I performed, along with washing costumes in the stream that ran behind the backstage area, and throwing crashboxes for sound cues. 

I closed off the month of August with all my friends from my retail job, as we gathered at a party to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of the closing of the show we used to work for. Though I generally neglect to mention who I work for because I wouldn't want them to catch me saying anything bad about them, I'm sure from this photo, it's rather clear. 

In spite of entering September jobless (except of course, for my retail job which it seems I will never leave), Prince Charming and I took what turned into a week-long vacation to my family's house in Cape May. As we speak, I'm awaiting an angry phone call from my younger sister who is visiting the house this week. We played a bit of a trick on her, and I'm sure she isn't going to be pleased at all. Shortly after returning to the city, I landed myself another job on a NYMF show, where I worked through October. 

October, of course, means Halloween, which means that I was left with the task of coming up with an extremely badass Halloween costume. Whether or not I succeeded is up to you. I'm pictured above in my costume, a "sexy" replica of one worn in the show I used to work for, alongside my boss from that show, who is dressed as one of his bosses. 

November opened in Florida with my family, and right before I left I secured my next job, subbing on the wardrobe crew at The 39 Steps, where I work now until the show closes next month. My sisters and I had a blast as we took Harry Potter World, and Disney World by storm. 

We visited our favorite face characters, and said hello to my friends Mandy and Courtney, and just generally had a blast. My mom even used one of our photos for our Christmas card this year. (Though not this one with Alice, which I would have picked had it been my decision.) 

I also exercised my right to be a complete and total alcoholic, and tackle the task of drinking around the world in Epcot. The Epcot World Showcase features 11 countries, and each of them has its own variety of delicious alcoholic beverages. I survived without throwing up, or even being stuck with a serious hangover. 

I also got to spend the following day drinking beer at the ESPN Club and watching football all day! Every team I cheered for won that Sunday. (I know, not a photo of me at ESPN Club, but it proves two things: I wore my jersey that day, and I am at least as pretty as the chick dressed up as Belle, so my desires to be a princess one day are not entirely in vain!) 

I returned home to get dumped for a Rockette in a text message, a story which most of you have already heard or read. I proceeded to drink myself silly for a couple of weeks, and cry on my shrink's couch for hours over this, hurt and angry, and often feeling like the dummy from the show I work for, who apparently was very depressed, as we see above. However, I survive, as I always do.

After a sufficient period of moping, crying, and feeling sorry for myself, I toss myself head first into my new job at The 39 Steps, endure a multitude of frustrating hazing rituals, and eventually settle in to enjoy myself at my new job. I enjoy the company of a friend of Prince Charming, which I can safely say is the only positive thing that came out of that relationship. I also work on the costume crew of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, which was truly a unique experience... though I'm not so sure I'll need to repeat it any time soon! I had a fantastic Thanksgiving with Stacey, Mick and his friends, and Clay and all the other folks down at House of Brews. (At least, I think it was Clay that night... my memory is a bit foggy!)

And that brings us to about... now. I'm working 2 jobs, one being my retail job, the other being my off-Broadway wardrobe job, I'm casually dating a really nice guy, and I'm enjoying my Christmas gifts, even though I'm atrociously bad at Black Ops. I've got plans for the upcoming year... but that's going to be a whole different story to tell, isn't it?

~Jessica

Taking Responsibility

"I'm not good for you." 

How many times have we heard those words at some point in a relationship? How many times have we then proceeded to get involved anyway? 

I'm not judging you for that - far from it. There's a variety of reasons why people say these words. They're scared, they're not actually available, they're not emotionally available, they have no interest in actually committing, they're unsure of their feelings, they fully intend to cheat on you, they don't plan to care about you, they're not ready for a relationship, they have a terrible track record, and many more in the stories I'm sure you've all lived. Sometimes they mean these words, sometimes they don't. Sometimes we're aware of the reason they're saying them, sometimes we're not. 

What I'm sick of, though, is people using those words as a means to deflect responsibility when they've inflicted deep emotional wounds on another person. I'm sorry, but "I told you I'm not good for you" isn't good enough. Not by a long shot. 

It's an old adage that actions speak louder than words. And a simple statement that perhaps this isn't such a good idea holds little weight when paired with stolen kisses, romantic dinners, and loving caresses. How are we supposed to believe you when you say you're no good when your behavior doesn't stand behind your words? When you're two sides of the same coin, are we supposed to simply toss it in the air and hope it lands on the right answer? 

The person who is most at risk is left to determine how much of a risk there really is. And yet, when you stand unscathed over a wounded heart after striking the last blow, you manage to shirk all blame. "But I told you I'm not good enough for you."

If you truly mean those words when you say them, than I beseech you, have the courage and the dignity to leave no question about your meaning. Have the decency to remove yourself from the situation, instead of succumbing to whatever weakness it is that drives you forward with false smiles and comforting arms. If you speak those words to someone, and then proceed in spite of them, either the words, or your actions, are a lie. And when the smoke clears, you should have the balls to stand behind them, and take responsibility for what you've done instead of trying to shrug it off as being the other person's fault, or misunderstanding. It isn't right, and it isn't fair, and it makes you nothing more than a coward. 

Am I trying to say that we deserve no blame when we stay in situations after a warning that it will not end well? Not at all. It takes two to tango. I'm merely saying that we should not be forced to shoulder the blame on our own, or be made to feel as though it's entirely our own fault that we've been hurt, and most importantly, that because of the fact that we stayed, we are undeserving of comfort when we are hurting.

~Jessica

O Holy Night

O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining...


I'm not religious. That being said, I love a lot of things associated with religion. I think churches, temples, mosques, and other religious buildings exhibit some of the most beautiful architecture I've ever seen, and there is a lot of really spectacular religious artwork that I just love. I love singing masses, and religious music, I think it's really gorgeous.


And I love Christmas carols.


The video above is probably my favorite rendition of "O Holy Night", which is probably my favorite Christmas carol. When I listen to it, I totally forget for a second to nitpick that Jesus wasn't actually born on Christmas, and just enjoy the music. There's one verse in particular that really gets me every time...


Truly he taught us to love one another...


A couple of months back, I did a post entitled Follow The Way Of Love. Basically, I was really angry and worked up that there had been a series of posts about homosexuality being a sin, and they were so full of hate, and cruelty. I'm not a good Christian, but I think that I can safely say that Jesus wouldn't be okay with that. Instead of ranting and raving back in anger, I yanked a bunch of Bible verses that preach love. Because I'm pretty sure that the Bible tells us that we should love each other a lot more times than it tells us that the gays are going to hell. And so often, I feel like that message got lost somewhere along the way. I'm not religious, and I disagree with a LOT of the things that the church says, but I think preaching love is a fantastic message.


His law is love, and his gospel is peace...


For a lot of reasons, I've been hurting a lot in the last couple of months. People very close to me have hurt me in a variety of ways. Strangers have shocked me with their behavior. I've been disappointed in people. I've been let down. And it makes me sad. Because I look around and I see so much sadness, and selfishness, and negativity. I see all of us walking around acting like we're the center of the universe, or the most important person around. And while I understand that there is a natural instinct to take care of oneself, I hate that I see that being carried out at the expense of others. Is it such a hardship to be kind, and considerate, and loving to the people around you? Would it kill you to hold a door, or help someone carry something? Is it really so difficult to stop bullying people just because they're different from you?


And in his name, all oppression shall cease.


It's the holiday season, and regardless of which holiday you celebrate, I'm pretty sure there's some element of family, and kindness, and love involved. But I don't see that so much. I see people who are angry, self-involved, and often downright mean. I don't see people sticking up for one another, and being loving, or caring, or kind nearly as often as I'd like.


I wouldn't call myself Catholic anymore, despite that being how I raised. So I'm not trying to preach about how we should all be good Christians. I'm trying to say that we should all be good people.


I think that we all need to stop being so judgmental, self-centered, and cruel to one another.


There's a scene in the show that I'm working for right now that I watch from the wings every time I work, and I'd like to share some of the lines I really enjoy with you now:


"Real People! Doing the best they can! Yes! Doing the best they can in all the terrible situations the world throws at them! Suffering things no man or woman ought to suffer! And yet they carry on! They don't give up! They damn well keep going! And I'll tell you what else they do. They do the best the can for other people too. Whatever problems they've got, they damn well look after each other! Is that such an outmoded, sentimental notion? Is it? Well is it? ... Let's just all set ourselves to make this world a happier place! A decent world. A good world. A world where no nation plots against nation. Where no neighbor plots against neighbor, where there's no persecution or hunting down, where everybody gets a square deal and a sporting chance, and where people try to help and not to hinder. A world where suspicion and cruelty and fear have been forever banished! ... Is that the sort of world you want? Because that's the sort of world I want!"


I can't change anybody else, I know that. I can only change myself. So this holiday season, I am going to do my very best to put the pain and the hurt behind me, and be the best person that I can be. Because that's all I can do.


And I invite you all to do the same.


~Jessica