Warning: I think I hit some kind of record using the F-word in this one. If you don’t fucking like it, don’t fucking read it.
Myeeeeaaahhhhhhh. Weeaaaaahhhhh. Waaaaaa. Bleahhhhhh. It’s not faiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr.
It just takes a little tiny fucking thing, ya know? One, tiny little fucking thing. Of course there’s been a number of great big huge things before that. Let’s see. Mom gets cancer, eventually dies because Dad is too drunk to understand hospice direction and grossly mismanages her medication. I nearly die in a pregnancy my body clearly was not meant to have. I lose my job. I lose my uterus. I lose my house, (with the added benefit of being given three weeks to get the hell out, two-year old in tow, while husband was out of town working), cat gets cancer, (I know, little, but I really fucking love this cat), Dad gives all of his money and stuff to a meth addict and then blows his brains out. THEN I have three auditions in a row that I, and I say this as humbly and objectively as I can, rock the shit out of, (to the tune of having producers stand to hug me and thank me for my performance), and STILL can’t get cast.
Yesterday I found my tiny fucking thing. A woman I see frequently in roles I covet, a woman who, and again I attempt humility and objectivity here, is an older and less talented version of me has for all intents and purposes “replaced” me. I actually cried. I’ve never cried before in my life when I see somebody else get something I want. I’ve cried when I’ve lost things I’ve wanted, but never actually shed tears of jealousy.
I feel like a fucking four-year old having a tantrum.
I know nothing is guaranteed. I know I’m not “owed” anything. What’s more, I have a really fucking good life. I have an awesome family and fun pets and great friends and a cool apartment and money in the bank that will get me through the next couple of months. But I look at my recent past and can’t help but wonder… AREN’T I DUE? I mean, come on. What are the odds that EVERYTHING is snake eyes? At this rate, you’d think I’d win the lottery or something.
I told a friend of mine that the people who sold all of my father’s possessions had done a bit of a runner and I doubted I’d ever see any of the money. He somberly replied, “Your life is a Merchant Ivory film.” I raised my eyebrow. He corrected himself. “No, you’re right. It’s a Christopher Guest film.” Waiting for Something that Doesn’t Suck.
I managed to slip a real, live, honest-to-God movie in between Moments of Suckiness. It was a movie about a philosophical ideology I happen to disagree with, but disguised as a science fiction action adventure. I shrugged and assumed it couldn’t hurt, nobody would probably see it. Yeah… Maybe you’ve heard talk recently about a woman named Ayn Rand? A little thing she wrote called, “Atlas Shrugged” which has been co-opted by The Right to excuse massive greed and, quite frankly, corruption and tax avoidance? Yep… that’s my movie. Part II. Comes out October twelfth and I’ve already gotten hate mail for having a part in it. (Which is ironic because it was a union movie done by a bunch of Hollywood Liberals. But I digress.) Even my Shiny Thing managed to get poop stains on it.
I’m told the solution for this chasm I’ve sunk myself into is practicing gratitude. Ha! You are not alone in wanting to respond to the person who gives you that advice by smooshing their nose up into their nasal cavity. I know I do. Which tells me all the more that it’s the fucking advice I fucking need to fucking take. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. (Side note: I had a snarky Facebook person comment on how crude repetitive expletives were when making a point. I, on the other fucking hand, thing they’re fucking perfect. I didn’t say this then, since Facebook is all public supposed friends and stuff, but Michael, fuck you, you fucking fuck.)
Okay. Squint my eyes, grit my teeth and force some gratitude. Ready, go! Hit it! Any time now…. Spin that mental rolodex and identify some genuine gratitude. I mean, I can think of all sorts of things I SHOULD feel grateful for, but the truth is, I’m too sullen to allow them to sink in. Come on. There must be SOMETHING.
I’m loved.
Oh fuck you for that being enough. Fuck the tears that just shot up in my eyes. Fuck the book full of people who took the time to tell me, technically a stranger, that they love me and support me and wish they could do something to help me. Fuck the people who showed up at my door with a couple of decades having passed since they saw me last, ready to take whatever crap I was flinging. Fuck my kid who greets me every single time by running at me at top speed, screaming, “Mommeeeeee!” Fuck the friends who have let me stay there so often that their son’s room has been rechristened “Kim’s Room”. Fuck my friends who, when I apologize for not calling or picking up the phone, insist on answering with, “That’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Fuck the rooms full of people who walk my steps and know my disease and love me unconditionally. Fuck my dog who, no matter what my tone of voice may be, looks at me with his doggy smile, tail wagging, tongue lolling, brown eyes full of adoration. Fuck my husband who has spent the last fifteen minutes on the phone, trying to find the cheapest place for me to have my car’s oil changed. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Because I just don’t think I can maintain my level of ferocious whining when faced with the fact that, when push comes to shove, the only reason I do ANY of the shit I do is to be loved. And apparently I’m already there.
Fine. At least I still have my thighs to whine about.
Oh, Kim, if only I could retweet an entire blog entry. You hit every point I’ve been feeling lately, from the little things to the loved things. You lovely, wonderful woman.
Here’s another person saying they love you: me.
Hi Kim! I followed you over here from Twitter. I know that anger you’re feeling. I know how it feels to reach that tipping point and just have everything break through all at once. I wish I had some advice or a magical solution, but all I can do is to let you know that you aren’t alone. Earlier today I wrote this post, which I think comes from the same place.
http://msireneadler.tumblr.com/post/31881388122/i-need-to-talk-about-depression-and-anxiety-and
You are an awesome force of nature and we all adore you. Hope that can go even a little way toward helping you feel a bit better in the face of all the shittiness.
Oh sweetie! I wish I could do more than offer words of comfort, but I’m way too far away for hugs and shots. But as a fan of yours, I can say that I admire your work greatly, and you as a person inspire me. Please know that you ARE loved and you ARE appreciated.
I’m struggling with depression, two physical injuries that I can’t afford to have repaired, and a metric buttload of things myself, all of which seemed to crash down at once, so I do know how you feel. You’re not alone, none of us are, if we just reach out and say “I’m here, you’ll be okay.”
And you know what? I’m here. You’ll be okay.
Dropping off some more love – love for you, for your writing, for being all around awesome, all the love.
As a girl who’s recently decided to try and make her way into theater (somehow, even if it’s off the stage in management or something) even though she’s technically too old to start that career path, doesn’t have a formal education in it and won’t get one because she’s too old to start with that and will likely be looking at a long string of not-enough-to-be-invited-to-audition… I feel your frustration a lot more literally than I did half a year ago before I had that damned epiphany that the fine arts was what I wanted to do with my life.
For all the love and support you have from your family and friends it’s still hard for an artist to take rejection and get up for a next time with a feeling of ‘I’m going to get it now’. And I think you deserve that instant of shaking your fist at the universe and stomping your foot and cursing however the fucking hell you want if it gets shit off your chest. But I also admire you greatly for the fact that after so much that’s been thrown at you by life (certainly more than my cushy ass has had to weather) you’re still standing, being this awesome person that brightens up my day with whatever she has to say – because I’m always going clappy hands when I see one of your posts pop up on my feed – no matter what it is. It makes you human and kind of my hero.
Don’t know if that helps, but I wanted to say it. So there.
You are wise being your years. And your good things are coming, good things above and beyond what you’ve had so far. I believe this not because of karma, but because you’re talented and good and strong, and nothing can keep that down for long.
It may not count for much, but we’re not going anywhere either you know. X
*beyond your years. Phone typing sucks!
But I fucking love your fucking thighs, fucking okay?
Honestly, don’t know anything to say to the pathetic casting directors that are obviously missing the boat and not casting you in favor of that equally obviously inferior actress. **see that blind devotion there LOL**
Anyway, all I can say is that I fucking love you and your fucking cracky but so gosh darn honest and true blog posts.
Kim, you are loved by many, many people.
Finding this post has solved my prolebm
Yep, another virtual stranger here who is so thankful that she found your blog because it resonates with things I feel and want to say. Love ya, Kim. Hang in there.
….I fucking love you so fucking much, Kim. lol
<3 And I know exactly how you feel. I get whiny about things, and my best friend will sit there via instant messenger telling me I should be grateful for A, B and C and yada yada yada and I'm like "YES, I KNOW THAT! I'M FREAKING GRATEFUL, OKAY? But godamnit this is a free country and I'm going to whine about this current issue pissing me off, or this current trial in my life, etc…because it hurts RIGHT NOW and no matter how many times you win the lottery, when you get hit by a bus and lay in the street bleeding and broken, it's kinda hard to be grateful. … . Well…I guess if you won the lottery, that'd help with the medical help. BUT THATS NOT MY POINT! Stupid analogies backfiring on me…
You don’t know me—I’m just a fan. But I can definitely say, objectively speaking, you deserve a break, lady! For being hilarious and smart and inspiring and awesomely talented, but also just because, damn. You deserve a break.
I think having a good whine is a great cure, finding all those things- big and small- that just suck in that moment. (Also, I hear you on the thighs thing, I think my people were part tree trunk at some point). I also think finding the good things is an even better one.
I just did this exercise in my head as I read your blog (which, p.s. I adore more than any other). I wasn’t ‘leading lady’ material enough to get a romantic comedy audition, a rising stack of job applications that have lead nowhere, a childhood home returned to because the real world cost too much when you don’t have an income, by a silent cell phone when I know my best friends have my number, my ring finger is empty while more and more of my friends start getting married and beginning their own families, hell I’m mad at the weather for being sucky enough that I can’t walk to the library a mile and a half away.
But I’m loved. By my mom and Grandma, by my brother occasionally (probably), by the cousins who still call me Bethy because they were there when I was born, by friends who think of me even if they don’t pick up the phone, by people on the internet who know me as a username and a bunch of stories about pretty boys.
And you, ma’am, are most definitely loved by me. I’ve never met you (although I’d like to change that
), but I think you’re pretty, brave, talented as all hell, and wise. I look up to you.
Also, I spelled the word occasionally right on the first try (which never happens): score!
I love you for sharing this shit, because man, I’ve had a hella rough week, and seeing someone actually being honest about her emotions is just the bomb.
Thanks for being so open with us.
Oh, Kim I love you just as you are!
You are one of the funniest, most outspoken and one hell of a woman. I usually don’t read blogs but yours is the only I read. Thanks for always being yourself.
I personally have dealt with a lot of crap in my life and is still dealing though I refuse to give up. Hope for better things to come is what keeps me going.
I had a day like this yesterday. Not as drastic as yours, I’ll admit. But I was denied a really cool opportunity that everyone else is getting to do because…well, the details of the idiots that surround me don’t matter. And then I got home ready to to rant and rave to the saint of a sister who nods in all the places…and my stupid fucking cat ran to the door and rolled over for stupid fucking belly rubs and yelled at me and tapped my leg for more stupid fucking rubs when I went to walk away and looked at me with her stupid fucking loving eyes. Stupid cat. I want to RANT AND RAVE AND…oh fine. Here. Hug my arm….
Stupid people who love us
I’m sorry it got shitty there for you and I’m gonna reiterate here what dozens of other people have already said. But you are loved. By people you know and people you don’t.
Stupid fucking snuggly cat.
At the risk of getting fucked (or maybe in hopes of it…) I also fucking love you!
Miss Kimberly,
Is 34 a record? It’s neat to have the page search for all the times you said it. They are all lit up, makes for a very bright screen. Sweet lady you are thought about, prayed for, and pondered over. You are loved and adored by the close and the not so close. It’s because of who you are, and how you treat the world around you, not because of a part you played in a show or movie. True you might not have the following without the shows, but they/we/I wouldn’t stay if that was all you were. I can’t begin to understand the process of offering yourself up to strangers in hopes of their liking you enough to use you. And then doing it over and over. I can only wish them the best, while knowing they missed out on the awesomeness of you. Thank you for your words all your words, even the profane ones, they all make up the multifaceted gem of you. Have a pleasant weekend sweet lady. happiness and smiles
There’s nothing a virtual stranger like me can say to make things better. So fuck it.
I’ve only seen you on my TV screen, so I feel kinda weird offering hugs and “oh hon”s but fandom is a place where we come to do that for people we’ve only seen through words on a computer screen, and sometimes even meet up and bond in RL. So: “Oh, hon.” ::hugs::
Your honesty and fiercely optimistic-in-spite-of-it-all humor and love make me adore you.
And dammit, people need to cast you more, and that includes SPN.
Who do we have to start fucking writing massively so you can get a fucking proper acting job? And I mean a fucking leading job in a fucking real production.
We’re too many to get fucking ignore.
Just let us know!
Hugs lady!
The anger is good. It’s healthier than some of my apathy of later after being laid off and now going through a short sale on my house, trying to get it done fast enough so I’ll still have enough money to move my stuff across the country to where my mom is …
Here’s the thing, though — and I know it’s so cliche, but I believe it’s true — everything happens for a reason (for those who believe, “God has a plan”). See, for me, had I not lost my fucking job, I would have been a good little girl and kept paying my exorbitant mortgage, never being able to sell an aging home with issues I can’t afford to fix, and my mom, who is also my best friend, would live and likely die alone. So, as tough as this is, I am glad. I’m going quite crazy and feeling pathetically sorry for myself, but it WILL get better, and I’m glad it’s happening.
What I see for you is that something SO BIG and SO GREAT is coming, and had you been cast in one of these other roles, you wouldn’t be able to do it. I hope you’ll let us know when that GREAT AND WONDERFUL THING comes along!
Hugs and hankies
Fuck that! Your cat getting cancer is not little, even amidst all the other chaos you’ve gone through. It’s good to whine and cry sometimes. It’s also great that you can see all the good in your life–loving hubby and child and awesome pets etc.
PS)Those casting directors suck.
Hi,kim.I don’t think all the cheese in wyoming could cover that much whine.Now that you got it out smile for christs sake.The sun did come up today you know.Oh yeah,and I still love you know matter what the fuck you say.
Whine away. It’s good to get it out of your head. Love ya, girlfriend.
Fuck, Kim! That was a fucking great way to unload a lot of fucking CRAP! Thanks so much for sharing (really). None of us can do a fucking thing to help – but we CAN care about you and may of us CAN empathize with you. So, when you have another tantrum, remember, your FANS fucking love you, too. Life sucks. Put on your big girl panties. Quit whining. And deal with it. – @AGirlNamedDale aka The Instigator of the SPNCougarFanGirls. BTW: All the CFG’s invite you to bitch and complain and laugh and post naughty things about the SPN guys. What goes on on our page, STAYS on our page…
I had a similar ranty meltdown to a “friend” a couple of weeks ago and she sends me a platitude of bullshit email including a link to an “inspirational blog post” she just “knew” I needed at that moment.
I’m super tempted to send her this one in reply.
You >>>>>
Three things.
1. I understand exactly where you are coming from. I’ve had my own struggles in that area myself.
2. I love you too, you foul mouthed sweetie
And 3. As an unrepentant progressive, I’d like to think that the money they paid you counts as redistribution of wealth. (Not to mention that they are going ahead with the sequel despite losing money on the first one. Which is probably making Ayn Rand tear out her hair in heaven. And that she’s in heaven probably not sitting all that well with her either.)
Hugs and kisses, kiddo!
How do you really feel Kim? Hardy har har. I’m fairly certain if I ever wrote a book about my shitty life people would think I was lying. When I look back I wonder how the fuck I’m still here. Masochist maybe? Who knows. I must have been a serial killer of orphans and their orphan pets in my last life. Or maybe nuns and old people. Most likely all of them ’cause this time around sucks like a fucking Hoover.
This is the first time I’ve seen your blog and it makes me love you so f*cking much I can’t stand it. Please join the club of women who can deal with whatever sh!tstorm life throws our way. It is oh-frigging-kay to whine for five minutes and kudos if you can be funny while doing it. Thanks for making me feel normal. And here’s to hoping your WTFoMETER falls back out of the red zone in the not too distant future.
I found your blog link thru twitter. I guess I expected something fluffy and superficial, but thank you for being so honest and open. In this world, being the “what you see is what you get” kind of person usually makes people uncomfortable. Well, that’s my experience. People shrink from honesty and strong emotions, and when you go through shit in your life, most people don’t want to hear about it. Maybe it touches their own insecurities, who knows. But really, that’s the stuff, the glue, that bonds us together, this sharing of all the bullshit we’ve been through and how we passed through to the other side- scarred maybe, and a little worse for wear, but stronger for it and more in tune to who we are.
I can relate. I’ve been through an awful marriage, awful divorce and 10 years as a single parent. Layoff/layoff/layoff. Ruined credit and a cashed out 401K at the age that it scares me not to have one. And the struggle to convince myself that as I get older that I’m still talented enough to make some kind of a dent, however minor, in the hearts of people who love art… well, it’s tough. Creative people have to deal with criticism and rejection and it sucks so hard. But it’s that inner strength that keeps me going. My mom’s motto is Dont Let the Bastards Get You Down.
So yeah, go ahead and be pissy and angry. Who the hell cares? Don’t we all deserve it sometimes?
You sound like you needed to vent and by god, it was a good one. It’s a good thing to remember that there are people out there who care. I do, and I don’t even know you. I hope things have been better for you since you wrote this post. Sorry for the long comment, your post really touched me.