Andria Baisley.....Is struggling with making a christmas list. /sighs.

I hate being cute. No, really. I do. It makes me feel so inadequate. I would much rather be strong and pretty. Not cute and sweet. I get that so much. It's in my nature, it's a part of who I am...and it drives me crazy. I am actually envious of people who speak their minds, who say what they want without regret...I know a lot of people would think that these aspects of my personality, the ones that make me "cute", are valuable assests. They aren't. I feel stupid most of the time. I feel ridiculous. Unintelligent. Naive. And if there is one thing I hate more than anything else, it's naivity.

I had this really horrendous moment a few weeks ago. It was when I was walking through a museum and spending the day enjoying the city. Well, forcing myself to. And I had this moment where I realized how incredibly painful it was for me to be walking around...and it hit me. Man, I am so depressed. Like, really. I haven't felt like this in awhile. And that just made it worse to realize. It's this vicious cycle effect. "Oh man, I'm depressed. Oh now I'm depressed about being depressed.."

I am going to be better. I think if I force myself to move and live and strive my life will have to. I won't really give it any other option. I know this is really from leaving AMDA, which could be considered the best four semesters of my life in certain aspects. For one thing, I was doing what I loved completely and utterly with no restraints and I was learning so much. I understand now, why people pursue with relentless abandon the things they are passionate about. It's the feeling of completion that they feel while they are running headlong the miles of chasing their dreams. To suddenly not have that any more is kind of unbearable.

I had a brilliant professor in college once relate issues in life to a spiral. It's a belief I hold strongly to. I think that this particular turn in my little spiral of life will be overcome and I will be stronger because of it. I also believe that this will not be the only moment I will be depressed. I just hope that as my life rotates around, the next time I begin to feel that familiar achey feeling, I can have better tools in my arsenal than sleeping. There is just no sleeping off depression. There is only waking up to find it staring at you in the mirror the next day. If you let it take over. And I did before. And I have now.

This is the place in my blogs where I make this passionate speech about how I will live for now. That this is my moment, this is my life and I will take control over it. And, while yes, I do believe those things, I have also grown up (or simply gotten more cynical) enough to realize that things like this take time. There are issues in my life, questions, fears, idolatries, regrets, guilt ect, that I will have to deal with. That I need to let go of. There are some things that I will not write about here. Because as open as I am to writing on this blog, my life has been catalogued enough on here. I feel the need for some modicum of privacy. Ironic, though, isn't that?

I need to let go of the dreams of my childhood and rest in the dreams I have now. I am not married. I do not have the adventurous, amazing life I'd always wanted, but I am alive. I am in NYC. I am struggling to be an actor. And for some, many, or a few, that might seem like the dream they always wanted. The life they dream of living now. It's always greener on the other side until you walk over there and realize it's all synthetic turf. Then you wonder why you even came over in the first place. And then you look for someone to blame and realize that you can't really blame anyone. I mean, you were the one that walked over in the first place.

For not the first time, I am beginning to question whether or not I am supposed to be an actress. It's a calling that I am not sure I have. It's an amazing gift I wished I had, but in truth, I am not that good. And this life, oh, this life, is not one I am sure I can handle living. And that makes me feel weak. And I don't like that. But, sadly, it's the truth isn't it? If I can't do this, if I can't fight this battle....maybe I am just weak. Maybe I always do and always will find the lesser road and take it. It's easier that way, isn't it? If I don't try this, if I don't succeed, I will always feel like I failed myself because it is something I said I would never be or never do. And now, i want badly to do it. And i have made it down this path much further than I ever thought possible.

This road is hard. No, you don't have to be starving and barely making it, but most do and most are. It takes years of dedication, early mornings, late nights, tons of noes and perhaps the few yeses and at the end of all that you might have a career. Might. If you are good enough. What I crave now? Strength. Control. Because I feel I have none. And better communication skills. And the extreme luck to know Joss Whedon. I want to be able to fight with grace and beauty and finesse. I want to be able to wield a broadsword and be impressive. Eowynn might never be something I can let go of.

Top Things People do that piss me off at Starbucks:
1. Act like its my fault when your late.
   - Do not give me some crap about how its supposed to be done in three minutes. You are in MANHATTAN. Do not blame me because you illegally parked on the side of the road and are getting a ticket. Do not blame me because you were running late for work but still really wanted your coffee and are now annoyed that it's taking longer than instantanieous to get it.

2. Act like you are the only customer in line.
   -Honey. Baby doll. Angel face. Do not sigh every time I call out a drink that is not yours. If you would turn around you would see the other 5 people who have been ever so patiently waiting on their drinks. Guess what? They were in front of you. And Guess what else? They aren't getting on my nerves. So that means, that they will most definitely be getting their drinks. Yours, on the other hand, might get lost some down the line a little further every time you get annoyed at me for doing my job. And, also, if tapping your fingers makes you get your way, I would do it all the time.

3. Act like you know how to do my job. Better than me.
   -I am a barista. It's my job title. Now, I know you must have dealt with people who actually had no idea what the hell they were doing at the bar. But I do. So yes, I am going to get snappy with you when tell me how to make a cappuccino. Or a carmel Macchiato. How about you start with learning how to pronounce the drink? It's a Macchiato. NOT machetti-o. Marketo. Ma-she-auto. Once you get that down, we can talk about you actually knowing how to make the drink. I mean, really, if you guys want my job so badly: take it. I mean, obviously, you would totally be able to handle the pressure. I know your days must be sucky. Guess what? Trying wearing my shoes for one. Then we can talk. Don't assume because you have a higher paying job, a job in the acting industry, work for ABC, CBS, CNN, or whatever, that you can put me down. I am a human being. I am not a pretty attachment to the espresso bar. I have feelings. I have opinions. I breathe. I don't tell you how to do your job and, frankly, I don't really care what your job is. Keep out of mine.

4. The famous "Is this my drink?" "Are you frank?" "No." "Then no, it's not. It's Frank's."
   - To hear your name, you have to be able to hear. That means, hang up your damn phone. Take out the ipod earphones. It's my job to call your name. To smile. To wish you a pleasant day. To ask you if you need anything else. It is not my job to bellow out a name for five minutes until finally you pull your phone away from your ear so you can ask me where your cappuccino is. Oh? You mean the one I have been yelling about for the last five minutes? Right here. Is it cold? Well, guess what? DEAL. You were standing right there. I am not going to make all of the people who are listening for their drinks wait so I can remake yours. Who knows if you're going to hear it being called again anyways?

- Read the labels. Its really ingenius. The label machine. It prints out in nice, neat, legible type, your drink. and your name. READ THEM. I know this is particular thing for particular stores. But, my store has them. Most people know to read them. LISTEN. READ. And if all of that fails....then we can talk.

5. The brew coffee/ tea bag debacle.
- You pick up hot coffees and teas at the register. Since everyone at the register says that you get them at the register this does not mean you can get pissed at me for not listening. Granted, I know it's confusing and my store is big, but that does not mean, again, that you can take out any aggression on me. I don't get to take any out on you. So when you are standing around blankly for ten minutes and I can hear the register person yelling out "Tall coffee at the register" do not even attempt getting pissy. LEARN TO LISTEN. It'll save you a whole lot of trouble. Most times I try to catch the hovering and send you on the way. But if I miss it because I have ten drinks I am trying to make at once, because we are busy, do not blame it on me.

6. "Do you have my__________?"
 - The answer is always: YES. I do. Don't ask me if I do if it's really busy. Chances are, if you just arrived, that I do, but it hasn't come out of the sticker machine yet. Again, this goes back to being aware of whats going on around you. If there are a ton of people standing around the bar, chances are we are busy. And that means, you are going to have to wait. This does not mean that because you asked about your, whatever, that you just ordered that its magically going to come out next. Asking multiple times, again, does not make things magically appear faster. It just pisses me off. Pissing me off may mean that I actually don't have your drink, or that you get a lot of foam in your latte.

7. Runner money
 - Do not hand me sweaty money. And apologize about it. It's called a sandwhich bag. Or a plastic debit card. Put your money in the sandwhich bag and insert into shorts. Trust me, handling disgusting soaking wet twenties at 5 am is just the perfect way to start my day. I love doing that. I also love when you make this "I can't believe I am touching this" face as you hand ME the money. If you don't want to handle it what makes you think I do?

Okay, I feel much better now. My horrible bad day at work has just made me realize that most people are stupid, selfish and utterly vapid holes of delusions. Yeah. I love humanity. I completely acknowlege that I am, in fact, a part of the selfish, stupid vapid delusional hole brigade, by the way. I just wanted to let off some steam. Before I broke out a sword and went back to work.

Two people called in. I was on bar, all by myself, for 7 hours. Only one 10 minute break. And I had to deal with all the above (except for the money) all day long. Oh my god. I almost cried. Like a million times. And, to be perfectly honest, I did snap at people today. And I didn't care.(Too much.) Most of them deserved it. And damn, if it didn't feel good to put some assholes in their places.

So, we might be moving into an apartment soon. Like in two weeks. Which is really cool, and i'm excited. :) So, yeah things continue on in a blur of sweat, tears, and struggles. but i love this.