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Well, I had tried to post regularly.

I was really trying.

GIVE ME A BREAK!

Today I am going to share with you one of my favourite quick food recipes. If you follow me on Instagram then you would know that I post about the food that I make. I post about it so much that most of my posts recently have been about food. 

No, YOU have a problem. No, YOU shut up. 

ANYWAY!

Three ingredient recipes are the absolute best, especially when you don't have to buy a whole bunch of new things. I also love three ingredient recipes that use up something in your fridge that you are trying to make sure you use before it goes bad. 

The ingredient of the day: FETA.

I buy Dodoni Feta, because I am a snob. It is imported from Greece, which means it is actual feta and not imitation.

FUN FACT: The cheese is protected by EU legislations and only those cheeses manufactured in Macedonia, Thrace, Thessaly, Central Mainland Greece, the Peloponnese and Lesvos can be called ‘feta’. This means that if it isn't made in those places, IT IS A CHEAP IMITATION AND SHOULD BE BURNED AT THE STAKE...well, okay that's extreme but it tastes different. 

Part of the reason I want to share this recipe with you is because I know that eating healthy is hard. Eating healthy is hard and wanting it to be healthy is also hard. Tasty, healthy, and easy to make? I am hitting you with the three best things you want and the recipe is three ingredients. Three, oh, it's a magic number...

Okay, I'll get to the recipe portion.

Baked Egg with Feta and Tomato

-One egg

-Feta

-Chopped up cherry tomatoes 

-Seasoning (I like garlic, chilli powder, and pepper)

-A ramekin

1. Preheat oven to 375

2. Chop up tomatoes (HONESTLY, this can be anything, depending on the size of your ramekin and food preference. You can use mushrooms or spinach or zucchini...it's up to you!)

3. Place chopped veggie of choice  into your ramekin then crumble feta on top. I used lots of the crumbly white cheesey goodness...because I have a problem. If you don't use tomatoes, add in some olive oil. 

4. Season it up!

5. Crack the egg on top of it all.

6. Place it in the oven for 15 minutes.

7. Enjoy. I ate mine with pita chips.

You can see a picture of it over here, on my Instagram.

Yes, that is me plugging a social media account.

Wanna fight about it?

well.

DO YA?

please don't fight me.

Leaving London

As most of you may know, or maybe you don't, I've been living in London for the past two years. I moved because of my graduate program at East 15 Drama School, and what an amazing two years I had. 

If you doubt how much fun it was, then enjoy this walk down memory lane that is totally out of order chronologically.

Of course, chapters must end at some point....and so my chapter in London has ended (for now).

This means that I have moved back to sunny San Diego, California. It is definitely sunny, it is definitely warm, and it is definitely weird to be back. It's strange knowing that I will be here for more than two weeks, which was the average visiting time whenever I would come back before. It is weird knowing that my immediate future is here in San Diego. It is just, well, weird.

I know a part of my heart is in the UK. I made so many wonderful friends, experienced amazing opportunities, and I am beyond grateful for every moment I had. I was able to visit Scotland, Paris, Greece, and South Africa. I had unique life moments that I will always treasure. I am honestly having a hard time verbalizing all the wonderful things I loved about my two years because my thoughts are running faster than my fingers can type the thoughts out. 

I am weirded about by being back in California, but I know it's a step towards where I am headed next. Where am I headed next? Who knows. I have always been a highly ambitious human being, and my attempt to stay in United Kingdom was foiled but my spirit has not been. I don't know when I'll be back in London...well, that's not entirely true but that's a future blog post's problem. Either way, I don't know when I'll be back permanently and am intrigued to see the path I take from here.

This blog post is more of a walk down memory lane rather than something profound or deep. It is the ultimate throwback Thursday, I suppose. Two years of throwback! I don't know what is happening next, but I am looking forward with hope and excitement. 

#throwback #WanderingNotLost #Okay #DoneWithHashtags

Hook, Line, and Sync-er

I am so tired of having to over justify myself when it comes to any topic that is branded as feminism. This includes sexual assault, harassment of all kinds, sexism...you name it. I am tired of assumptions being made without leg work being put in. 

It's okay not to know answers, because I definitely don't have all the answers. I am all about having discussions and dialogues about these topics and others. But I want to have intelligent discussions. I want to have discussions where I feel like the other person has at least looked into the topic before making assumptions or generalizations. 

You're probably wondering where this is coming from, because it seems a bit random out of context. Facebook. Facebook brought this on. Time and time again I am baited by posts that concern feminism and, because of my passion for the topic, I bite. I sink my teeth in and am often horrified at the taste that fills my mouth.

"This post about rape statistics seem extreme. It's probably click bait." 

"I know she has a boyfriend, that doesn't mean I can't flirt with her. She's hot."

"A real women doesn't wear make-up! A real woman has curves!" 

"What was she wearing? Because I bet that is why that happened."

You have got to be kidding me, guys. I am so tired of seeing stuff like this. Stop cutting other women down, stop shaming and blaming victims, stop justifying sexist behavior, stop assuming that because something doesn't fit within your world view that it can't be true. We have this magical website called Google. If you've not used it before, go on and click the hyper link and it will take you to this wonderful search engine. This is where you can go to learn things and search through sources to form opinions.

I got baited again in the wee hours of the night time. I knew that it would be foolish to engage. I was tired, which does not make for good impulse control or emotional regulation. However, I was so tempted that I bit. Immediately, I was filled with the satisfaction of a well phrased and informed counter-argument. 

Soon the delicious taste dissolved when there was a rebuttal. The person was defensive from previous responses and was already on edge. Defensive comments were thrown, no real dialogue happening. In that moment, I realized that I had worked really hard to share my perspective and feelings to get shut down. It was perceived that I insulted their intelligence, which was not my intent, and therefore my argument deemed invalid.

Online you can't read tone of voice or body language. Your brain fills in the signals it doesn't get. I have very little control over the way your brain narrates this blog post, for example. I can use punctuation! I can use textual effects...But the control I have over your perceptions is highly limited. You could read this with an angry English accent, and I would be none the wiser.

The Internet is funny business...I mean, I wrote a whole play about what funny business it is so I guess it isn't shocking that I think that. I also find it exhausting. Anyone who knows me knows that me and my phone are in a co-dependent relationship. I need to use it, it needs me to use it, and everyone is happy with it. 

Until I got sucked into this trap.

The trap, which was never meant to be a trap, really made me realize how little I get back from certain interactions. Thus I have written a letter to my long time beau, Facebook.

Dearest Facebook,

We have been together for a couple of years now. You've seen me through high school awkward phases, break-ups, embarrassing chats to all sorts of people, losses, college, moving to England, and everything in between and beyond. You've helped me stay in touch with friends who are over 3,000 miles away. You helped me rekindle friendships. You've helped me document life events. You have allowed for me to find articles, videos, photos, and groups that I couldn't have found without you. You truly have done a lot.

It's time I am honest with you. For all the good you do, you tire me out. The very nature of your existence means spending time online. I have found that sometimes people seem to only be interested in fighting online, putting others down to their face or behind their back, and not actually listening to others. You're full of so much clutter and hatred and defensive behavior that I wish I didn't need you to stay in contact with people. You exhaust me. You give me opportunities that then make my brain buzz until I am up at 3am writing you a letter. You have a lot of power and I hate that.

I know you don't mean it, because you really can't do anything about how people use you. You try, which is nice. Even with your best intentions you don't do well. Remember that article with the image of the naked little girl from the Vietnam war that you censored because nudity is not allowed what-so-ever? Remember the controversy that caused? Or how female breasts are not okay, but shirtless men are fine? You try. I know you do. It's hard to do the right thing when you let algorithms do the work instead of people, though even people will make mistakes.

I just...I think I need some space. Of course, this is on me. It really is me, not you. You're a complex piece of software that I shouldn't even be writing a letter to because you're not sentient. If you are, then I have bigger issues to address.

Either way, this is the deal. I am gonna take some space. Some much needed distancing and lack of dependence on you. I will use you as I feel necessary, and it'll be hard because habits don't die easily. I know this will be good, for the both of us. I'll learn to value you more when you do good and be less bogged down when it all goes to hell.

Now you know what's on my mind,

Alyssa 

Safely Endangered, a web comic that you can read here! 

I mean, new ones usually take their place. This comic harks back to something I said years ago about people being in your life for seasons. Some seasons are much longer than others, some are shorter...at least in this metaphor that is how seasons work. Friends don't always disappear, but they sometimes do. It's a part of life, and just because they are gone now does not mean that they can't reappear again some time in the future. 

I find something about this photo funny. The orange block comes down and fills in the Tetris spot, causing all of the "friends" to disappear. It it vaguely reminiscent of murder, don't you think? I mean, suddenly this block is hanging out with his buddies when this jerk shows up to "make them disappear"? What is he, a mobster? I would also refer you to the first panel. Look how horrified the blue piece in the left corner is. He knows what is coming for him. He knows this is the end. No one believed him when he told them this would happen, but here we are! 

And poof! Dead. 

I've gotten off track from the intention of this post...I have a bad habit of doing that. 

The point of the silly (and slightly morbid comic) harks back to the time of transition I am currently in. I am at a cross roads of where my life will go, with the probability of me moving back to California imminent. Nine days before my lease is up, which is a very short amount of time left in a place I consider home. It means it is the ending of my chapter in London. It means friends I hold near and dear will be scattered across the world, which makes getting together rather difficult.

I have to remind myself that friendships, and all relationships, take work. You put in work with the hope that the other people will put in work. Mutual commitment to keeping the relationship alive is the goal. I have made friends in my time here that will put in the work, which is really lovely. I also know some people may disappear, not out of malice but just because life gets busy and hectic. I also know there are people that I will probably never have an interaction with again, and despite how sad that is...well, it'll be okay too. 

I am still in a really stable mind about this whole change, though I expect a crying fest soon. I've continued on with the farewells, which never get easier, and am realizing that some of the most important ones are coming up. I feel the tears welling up right now, actually, as the thought of not being a commute away from some people settles in. 

No one tells you about how hard friendships can be. I remember as a kid wishing I had more friends, more people who liked me, more people who wanted to be around me. But no one tells you that friendships are hard. I have already told you that they take work, but it's more than that. I liken it to sharing your meal, which is a funny choice for me since I am horrible at sharing food. That's another story for another time...

When you share your plate of food, eventually you are only left with your portion. If you're lucky, your friends will also share their food with you so you don't go hungry. Friendships take from you and the healthy ones give to you as well. This two way path means that parts of you, your love, your kindness, your anger, your stuff goes to another person and you receive from them parts of their stuff. An exchange happens and it is this that makes saying goodbye/farewell/etc so difficult because, if you have a good friendship, part of you is kept by that person. 

Do you get what I am saying? I don't know how well I articulated that. Either way, the take away from today is that I have lots of people who I treasure and will be sad about leaving. I am also aware that it will take work for us to stay friends, and I am happy to put in the work. I am also aware that, due to life being the way it is, some people may not be around as much as I would like or need. A difficult time is ahead, where relationships will be tested and tried to see their durability. I would be lying if I said it wasn't scary or anxiety inducing.

But, as George Michael says, "You gotta have faith!"

I am really bad at blogging.

As the title implies, I am really bad at blogging. 

I actually lost the account information for this blog and only recently was able to recover it...that's how bad I am at blogging. It's funny because I have social media attached to me as though I was born with it like a deformity but blogging? Nah.

You would think by the amount I love to talk, and the fact that I'm an actor, would make blogging ideal for ego stroking and bragging about whatever I am doing--especially living in London. You would think that as someone who identifies as an actor, playwright, and director I would be particularly keen to journal my thoughts and feelings...then publish them to show everyone how raw and emotional I am. You would think.

However, I am the worst at writing my feelings down. Don't get me wrong, I am 100% an external processor and need to talk through my issues or circumstances out loud to come to a conclusion. But for some reason writing a journal, especially handwriting one, has never been a hobby of mine. The idea is romantic though...especially with all the lovely journals you can write in now a days. Practically, however, it wasn't my specialty. 

I use journals to write out plots, character notes, research things...stuff that pertains to a play I am in or writing. But ask me to journal my thoughts and feelings? I will probably throw a tantrum--internally at the very least. I remember in my undergraduate program we had to do journals all the time to express how movement pieces made us feel or what we were going through in our lives that could have impact on us. I see the value, no question there, but if you're not particularly skilled at that activity (or find it difficult as your hand cramps while you write) then it may not be as beneficial to that individual.

Of course, if you're reading this, you'll see the irony as I am...well, I'm blogging. I am bad at blogging, so keep your expectations realistic. If you scroll through the posts you will see that I CONSISTENTLY have apology posts for how bad I am at keeping a schedule on this blog.

I suppose I should get to the real point of this post. Besides my inability to consistently share my thoughts in blog form on the Internet, things are a bit messy right now. My MFA program has ended, I've graduated, I put a show on that I wrote at the Camden Fringe Festival with my theatre company, and I am most likely (95%) moving back to the United States in ten days. It's a lot of emotion right now.

Fear. 

Sadness.

Grief.

Anger.

Joy.

I'm basically the movie "Inside Out".

I have a lot of feelings swirling around inside my head and I wish that I wasn't in control of them, because that would mean I could blame things on little animated figures. Life doesn't work like a Pixar film, so I am stuck with the responsibility of my feelings and choices in my life. Boo hiss boo! I think some would call this responsibility, or a branch of it, and that it directly relates to being an adult. I am also told that I am now considered an adult member of society.

Man, life got hard really fast and suddenly.

Times of change, especially big change, are always hard. This time it's especially hard because I feel like I have finally found home. London has always been a place where I have felt particularly joyful and challenged...a place I could call home. Having now spent the past two years of my life here, I can say without a doubt that London is a home to me. In this time of adjustment I am realizing that maybe I will have many homes, and that's going to be okay. Unless some sort of crazy apocalypse happens, London will always be here. I forget that sometimes as I pack up suitcases, throw away bits and pieces of the past two years, and decide what is really important to me and what is just stuff. 

2016 has been a big year for me, and I don't see it getting any smaller in the future. This month is going to be particularly hard, even after I know where I am relocating. I could get really lucky and end up staying. The possibility is there, though the probability is low. I am most likely moving back to San Diego, which means I have a lot of things to organize in the next ten days to make sure my affairs are in order. 

(That sounds like I am dying...you're lucky I'm level-headed while writing this or it'd be full of indulgent, morbid tones.)

I have a lot to be grateful for in this time of hardship. I have things to be justifiably upset about. I have things to be over-joyed about. I am full of feelings, swelling with absolutely every emotion possible and yet numb. I don't have any answers for questions like: 

"What's your next step?"  "Any big plans when you move back?"  "Are you going to do anything when you get back to California?"  "Do you think you'll be happy there?"

Easy, cowboy...My next step is to take it one step at a time, projecting too far into the future isn't good for me. My big plans when I move back are to take it one step at a time. Obviously I am going to do things in California, what a stupid vague question. Happiness is subjective and I don't know if I believe in it because it implies that I am untroubled or carefree or content and I rather not have those adjectives describe my life. 

The Oatmeal did a post recently about happiness that describes it in a way that I really enjoy. You can find it here. I highly recommend giving it a read.

I suppose I won't know what will happen when I move. I am not psychic and thus cannot tell the future, to my great dismay. I know that I have people who love me and support me, which makes this transition easier. I know that I have made the most of my time in London. I know that I have become a stronger, wiser, and better person. I know I have an MFA and I'm only 24. I know quite a few things, which gives me comfort. 

I also know I am really bad at blogging (being aware of my downfalls is also important).

Being Selective.

“We live in an age where we feel guilt whenever we have to cut someone off but the reality is that some relationships do need to die, some people do need to be unfollowed and defriended. We aren’t meant to be this tethered to the people in our past. The Internet mandates that we don’t burn bridges and keep everyone around like relics but those expectations are unrealistic and unhealthy. Simply put, we don’t need to know what everyone else is up to. We’re allowed to be choosy about who we surround ourselves with online and in real life, even if it might hurt people’s feelings.”

—	Thought Catalog  (via ed-ingle)

Trying to find the words...

Usually I'm pretty good with words. ANYONE who has been around me for more than ten minutes knows that I am good at talking. 

   What most people don't realize is that there are a lot of things I don't say, thanks to this wonderful thing I have called a filter. 

It's not a real filter, not a physical entity, but I like to think there's a part of my brain that I've developed that will tell me..."HEY, DON'T SAY THAT. NOT HERE, NOT NOW."

   This voice, or intuition, is a valued trait. But that's not where I'm going today, because I could write a ton about the filter in my head. The filter I am talking about is the one you use when it comes to who you let in your life and who you don't. I have experienced my fair share of ended friendships, ultimately a drifting apart that was for the best, and I find that it was ultimately the best thing to have ever happened. 

This overly DRAMATIC image kind of does what I'm thinking a little bit of justice...

  Again, it is quite dramatic and something I reckon you'd see on a black and white tumblr blog with sad music in the background. 

   BUT BUT BUT I agree that not everyone you meet is going to stay in your life forever. I learned this through graduating high school, where I thought I had the best friends ever, and now I talk to less than a handful of people from high school. None of them are from my graduating class either! Shout out to Kayla for being one of my best friends and both of us surviving high school, college, and the swing community together. 

   I learned this in college, where I thought the exact same thing that I thought in high school. This time the burns hurt more, but they've healed. As a graduate, I realize that everything that had happened led me to where I am right now. And where I am right now is FREAKIN' AWESOME. My entire life since September has been dedicated to school, Key of Sea, assorted shows, and graduate school. Now I get to live out the dream of a lifetime by getting my MFA in London.

Despite the snipping, the burns, the loss...I am exactly where I dreamed I would be and filled with zero regrets. This doesn't mean I didn't get a few cuts, bruises, and scars. Getting here wasn't the easiest road and there definitely was struggle along the way, but I got here.

   I have to filter people that I let into my life because, after graduating twice and living life, I have learned that not only are most people not meant to stay but a lot of people shouldn't have been let in at all. Of course, you realize this after something fishy happens or a red flag beats you upside the head. But knowing that not everyone is meant to to stay and that not everyone is meant to be let in are two very important principles. THIS DOES NOT MEAN YOU THROW UP WALLS AND KICK PEOPLE IN THE FACE WHO TRY TO GET TO KNOW YOU. It means you use good judgement, you evaluate people, you seek wise council, you filter.

   Two of the closest people in my life have been there for years and have made it through some really hard times. Like, really difficult life points that seemed like nothing good would ever happen again. I treasure those friendships and look to foster the ones I have now. I know that me leaving will be a speed bump, or a wall for some, but that's part of growing up and continuously filtering and being filtered. I also know that come September there will be some people who will not make it into that next phase of my life. All I really know is that I am quite fond of a drama free life, have no problem removing toxicity, and will not put up with dysfunctional behavior from anyone. This is living a filtered life, a clean life, a healthy life.

I am feeling quite filtered, maybe you should start calling me Brita.

Just kidding, don't do that.