I want to marry a british man...
or a scot, or irish, or welsh, or australian, or italian, or french. Anything but american.
The thought struck me as I was watching Mrs. Henderson Presents. I find I am blessed and cursed with the storytellers mind. When I watch something or read something, I long to be there. I cant seem to deal with my given circumstances. I always want something more. It is the most interesting feeling knowing that what you want can never happen. Knowing you dont belong in your time and place, but its not as simple as changing from SFA to UT or from the theatre department to the english department. Although that might help. There is no way I will ever live in the 1930's or the 1950's. I can act my heart out, I can write a million stories, I can direct a thousand shows. But in the end, I must return here. To 2006. There is no way that I can redo my childhood and grow up in england. In the end, as my mother often reminds me, I am texan through and through. I am only mistaken for british when I am in the company of such lovely folks. But I remain who I am.
Dont get me wrong, I love who I am. I love where I am. I love when I am. But I long for bigger and perhaps better. I am realistic and I know that in the end, if I had been British in the 1950's, I would long for the future and the states. That is after all the way of a storyteller. But, for now, I long.
Boy am I sappy and depressing.
The thought struck me as I was watching Mrs. Henderson Presents. I find I am blessed and cursed with the storytellers mind. When I watch something or read something, I long to be there. I cant seem to deal with my given circumstances. I always want something more. It is the most interesting feeling knowing that what you want can never happen. Knowing you dont belong in your time and place, but its not as simple as changing from SFA to UT or from the theatre department to the english department. Although that might help. There is no way I will ever live in the 1930's or the 1950's. I can act my heart out, I can write a million stories, I can direct a thousand shows. But in the end, I must return here. To 2006. There is no way that I can redo my childhood and grow up in england. In the end, as my mother often reminds me, I am texan through and through. I am only mistaken for british when I am in the company of such lovely folks. But I remain who I am.
Dont get me wrong, I love who I am. I love where I am. I love when I am. But I long for bigger and perhaps better. I am realistic and I know that in the end, if I had been British in the 1950's, I would long for the future and the states. That is after all the way of a storyteller. But, for now, I long.
Boy am I sappy and depressing.