So I have a secret super power that I'm going to share with you today.
I was reminded of it just now when my cup of tea became room temperature and I popped it into the microwave for 20 seconds. The world continued to spin on. I had no existential crisis over how long to put my drink in and zap it. I didn't have a panic attack because I'm home alone and no one was there to ask. You see, somewhere along the way, I was given the super power of "knowing how long to microwave stuff for." I didn't ask for this power, it was just given to me. I developed it very early on in life, and from that moment forward, I have shouldered this burden. I've lived with a lot of people. My family, of course, a myriad of different roommates, my best friend Robyn, stage managers, a very tall Norwegian-loving boy...the list goes on and on...and you would really be surprised to learn that most people just don't know how long to microwave stuff for! "How long should I put this in for?" (that's what she said) is a question I have gotten asked in every place I have lived for as long as I can remember.
Can someone tell me where this sign that says "SHE KNOWS THE ANCIENT SECRETS OF MICROWAVE COOKING!!" is on my person? I would love to know.
Lately, while thinking about this conundrum, I have decided that the super power is genetic, because my mom has the same mutation. I realized this on Christmas day, when my brother (a grown man of 30 years old) was sliding some left overs into the microwave and yelled to my mother "MOM?! HOW LONG SHOULD I MICROWAVE THESE MEATBALLS!?" I immediately replied "However long you think they should go in?" to which I got back "...I was asking Mom..."
This observation has led me to two conclusions:
1. My mother also has the Microwave Super Power.
2. My mother has more experience with the Super Power, therefore she is the authority. She also has more patience than me, and will tell you how long you should microwave something for, whereas I will just give you a sarcastic response.
(After telling my mom about my observations, she chuckled and said "Yea, people always ask me that too. I guess they don't realize that it doesn't really matter. It doesn't bother me." Wow. The patience this woman has is a super power in and of itself. Moms, am I right?)
I want to make something very clear. I don't think anyone is stupid for having to ask how long to microwave something. I just think it's hilarious that some of the most intelligent people I have ever met in my life would take the time to put something in a microwave, turn to ME who has no real authority in the situation, and ask me how long to cook it.
Here's the real secret: I have no idea either.
Angela and I
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Sunday, January 5, 2014
How to Return Home
Well here we are folks, 2014. 5 days in to the year that, according to social media at least, everyone has huge plans for! Myself included. 2013 was a strange one, and not one I would be very happy to repeat. It did have it's great moments. I, along with three others, put on an incredible production of Miss Julie by August Strindberg all by ourselves! I went to Florida and performed in my dream show, Spring Awakening! I went to Disney World! I moved to New York!
Because I try to focus on the good and positive things in life, I won't get in to the bad stuff that happened. Honestly, it will probably pop up here on this blog once I get more comfortable in this little cyber-home I've created for my thoughts, but until then, just know that 2013, in one way or another, kicked my butt. So when I packed up my things in New York and schlepped down to Chinatown to get on a 12 hour bus to Cincinnati, I could barely contain my excitement. I was so happy to be returning home to my family's open arms.
It's all the same except the girl in the hallway
where she's been and who she will ripen into
your childhood's on the other side of a sprawling divide
too wide
Take a silent breath, hold in the change
tell yourself you still live here...
I got home the day before Christmas Eve, and the Holiday Proper was fantastic. It was exactly everything I had hoped for: full of family and friends and virtually stress free. We even all got to go visit my Grandma together, something that hasn't happened in a few years due to the siblings always being in different places. It was a few days after the magic air of Christmas had settled that I started feeling a little strange. I kept thinking of the Kerrigan and Lowdermilk song "How to Return Home" and I frankly started to panic.
The personal goal I set for myself when I moved to New York in October was to finally become an adult. To blossom into the 23 year old woman that I am capable of becoming. I have always felt like a little girl. Partially because...well...it's difficult not to when only last summer people were asking me every day if the theatre I was working for found me at Lanesboro Middle School. I just look young, a fact that is a blessing when it comes to my work onstage! So yes, other people have something to do with it, but honestly up until this point in my life I have completely played into it. I took the role as the charming, fun-loving, family fixing little girl off the stage and into my real life because that's what I thought people wanted me to be. All of the time. I continued to emulate Annie, Little Mary, and Dinah Lord because in some strange, sick, corner of my brain, I truly believed that's what would make the people around me happiest.
It seems so simple now, but realizing that is not what makes me happiest was a huge revelation, and a huge game changer. I was walking down Central Park East, on my way home from work, shivering in the city wind, when I realized that I have never been happier than when I was directing Spring Awakening my senior year of college. I was in charge, I knew exactly what I was doing, no one could tell me I was doing a bad job, and I felt like an adult. For the first time, and the last time since, I had complete and utter confidence in myself and in my work.
There's no written guidelines on how to come back
How to show up and unpack
How to show up
How to grow up
How to take a breath.
I have to grow up. We all do. I feel as if my generation is experiencing some pretty severe emotional growing pains right now being out of college and trying to navigate this terrifying "real world" we were all so excited to enter. I'm sure I'm not alone in the feeling that when I come home I put huge pressure on myself to fall back into the youngest child/little sister role. I fell back in to old habits quickly, so much so that I was given a huge reality check. Yet in that moment, I felt my family's support holding me up more than ever. And that is something that will never change, no matter how long I am away from home or how many years go by. I will always have their undying love, and will always be able to return home to a safe and welcoming environment.
I won't bore you with details of my resolutions, but the overriding goal of all 8 (yes 8...dream big, I guess) is that by this time next year I will be 100% myself. Nothing lurking underneath the surface, silencing my BELTING, and clouding my happiness. Because Katie Berger has NO time for that.
Berger, out. Happy New Year, everybody!! I hope all your resolutions lead you to a happier, healthier you. Let's take this ride together!
Because I try to focus on the good and positive things in life, I won't get in to the bad stuff that happened. Honestly, it will probably pop up here on this blog once I get more comfortable in this little cyber-home I've created for my thoughts, but until then, just know that 2013, in one way or another, kicked my butt. So when I packed up my things in New York and schlepped down to Chinatown to get on a 12 hour bus to Cincinnati, I could barely contain my excitement. I was so happy to be returning home to my family's open arms.
It's all the same except the girl in the hallway
where she's been and who she will ripen into
your childhood's on the other side of a sprawling divide
too wide
Take a silent breath, hold in the change
tell yourself you still live here...
I got home the day before Christmas Eve, and the Holiday Proper was fantastic. It was exactly everything I had hoped for: full of family and friends and virtually stress free. We even all got to go visit my Grandma together, something that hasn't happened in a few years due to the siblings always being in different places. It was a few days after the magic air of Christmas had settled that I started feeling a little strange. I kept thinking of the Kerrigan and Lowdermilk song "How to Return Home" and I frankly started to panic.
The personal goal I set for myself when I moved to New York in October was to finally become an adult. To blossom into the 23 year old woman that I am capable of becoming. I have always felt like a little girl. Partially because...well...it's difficult not to when only last summer people were asking me every day if the theatre I was working for found me at Lanesboro Middle School. I just look young, a fact that is a blessing when it comes to my work onstage! So yes, other people have something to do with it, but honestly up until this point in my life I have completely played into it. I took the role as the charming, fun-loving, family fixing little girl off the stage and into my real life because that's what I thought people wanted me to be. All of the time. I continued to emulate Annie, Little Mary, and Dinah Lord because in some strange, sick, corner of my brain, I truly believed that's what would make the people around me happiest.
It seems so simple now, but realizing that is not what makes me happiest was a huge revelation, and a huge game changer. I was walking down Central Park East, on my way home from work, shivering in the city wind, when I realized that I have never been happier than when I was directing Spring Awakening my senior year of college. I was in charge, I knew exactly what I was doing, no one could tell me I was doing a bad job, and I felt like an adult. For the first time, and the last time since, I had complete and utter confidence in myself and in my work.
There's no written guidelines on how to come back
How to show up and unpack
How to show up
How to grow up
How to take a breath.
I have to grow up. We all do. I feel as if my generation is experiencing some pretty severe emotional growing pains right now being out of college and trying to navigate this terrifying "real world" we were all so excited to enter. I'm sure I'm not alone in the feeling that when I come home I put huge pressure on myself to fall back into the youngest child/little sister role. I fell back in to old habits quickly, so much so that I was given a huge reality check. Yet in that moment, I felt my family's support holding me up more than ever. And that is something that will never change, no matter how long I am away from home or how many years go by. I will always have their undying love, and will always be able to return home to a safe and welcoming environment.
Berger, out. Happy New Year, everybody!! I hope all your resolutions lead you to a happier, healthier you. Let's take this ride together!
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