Damn Good Caveman.

Dear Cassie:

I wonder if anxiety existed in caveman times.  I’m not the most anthropological thinker, and this isn’t a usual thought of mine, but, seriously, were our good-lookin’ homo erectus forefathers walkin’ around having panic attacks or afraid to take the steps that their life required? I can’t imagine the evolutionary benefit of anxiety disorders. Honestly, how does that come about in the genetic make-up of human beings?

“oh hey, you know what would help these people evolve as a species? DEBILITATING FEAR ABOUT EVERYTHING.”

Realistically, there are no benefits to real bad anxiety. Think of the things that people are anxious about: rejection. Rejection is the best thing that can happen to most people. If we all got rejected a little bit more, you better believe just, as people, we would have thicker skin and more pleasant personalities, while simultaneously not feeling the NEED to please everyone at all times, because we’ve been rejected, and it’s not all that bad.

Okay, what else? Failure. What kind of people do you look at as failures? When I think of a failure, I think of either somebody who was too afraid to try and couldn’t think of a way to get past that, or somebody who was too afraid to try, figured he should treat that fear with some meth and somehow that backfired for him.

So it’s fear. Fear just blows. It’s totally useless. It’s the biggest enemy of not only the actor, but the human. And I don’t mean a little bit of nervous tension, or some butterflies in the stomach. That stuff’s golden. I’m talking about can’t leave your house locked in your closet eating old cheetos for three days for fear of skin cancer from going outside. THAT kind of fear.

People just don’t live anymore. We seem to forget: living and dying are synonyms. And you could get depressed about that but why are you wasting your time? I think it’s a wonderful thing to think of. It’s humbling. It’s urgent. I shouldn't even have to write this. I know this. I would be a damn good caveman. and I totes wouldn't be anxious, bro.

Love love love, Cass.

If you really loved me...

So here is some info. HOW IMPORTANT.

Hey again! how'd you find me all the way on the internet? well, now that you're here: I'm a dramatic stage actor, attempting to take those two qualifiers out of my self-description and eventually just consider myself an "actor". I suck at impressions, I'm not looking to be famous, and I've never knowingly done coke with LiLo. (knowingly) Therefore, this might be difficult.

My blog background is Uta. I pick that lovely dame specifically because many years ago her book was the first actual non-commercial-smile-a-lot-and-be-thin-yeah-cheerleading's-fun-too book about acting that I read as a young actor. I did the whole scam circuits and smile and flash nonsense when I was young, but I never took to it. I always wanted to play the great parts, (great meaning beautiful, versatile, well-constructed, not necessarily most well-known) and wasn't so inspired to inform a commercial audience about why they should take their kids to Disney if they really love them. If you really loved me... and didn't just house, feed, clothe, and tolerate me...

Although I would not mind being Ariel in Disneyland. Please somebody help me out with that.

okay, so, it's late. I have so much to say to you, internet! but I think it's time for you to go home. Seriously. No, you can't sleep over... not even on the floor. St- Stop it. you're embarassing yourself. I can't- You're just overstaying your welcome here... COME BACK ANOTHER DAY.

*slams door*

Signed,
CRBD