Becoming callous.. or being thick-skinned.. where is the line?  At what point do you stop being blunt and start being harsh?  And have I crossed it?

… shouldn’t I care?

So my fiance works VERY hard.  Not many people could do what he does, and make things happen that he can make happen, or have the patience that he exhibits on a daily basis.  And he can be VERY impatient.. but he’s not with his kids.  He’s a big proponent of letting things go, of moving on and hoping for better.. of second chances.

Sometimes, this behavior bites him in the ass.

I, being the yin to his yang (heh heh heh), am not any of those things.  I have very little patience, especially when I know that the potential is NOT being acheived, and I’m quick to give up on people after one or two times.

Some of you know that I have another journal that I use for commenting purposes.  One online blog server only accepts comments with a valid account on their service.  So, needless to say, I have one.  It is full of fluff.  It is pretty much surveys that I find meaningless, funny quotes, great pics.  But nothing of import there.

One of his students found it.  And commented.

This particular student is someone that Bryan works very hard to make happy.  He desperately wants her to see her potential, because it’s there.. but as are most 18 year old girls, she’s a bit stubborn. (I have NO idea whom else may have been stubborn at 18..) She asked my opinion on something.  I answered her.

And as it turns out, I can’t REALLY distinguish that line between harsh and blunt.  I spoke honestly, as I always do.  And with the more sensitive creatures, that tends to wound.  Which was not my intent.

So I went back and wrote a LONG diatribe of how I came to my original conclusion, which basically outlines every theatrical failure I’ve been a part of.. and there are MANY.  I thought maybe my vulnerability would help.

But I think, again, I’ve messed up.

Here’s the bottom line: I’ve got a teacher in me.  I’ve also got an older sister in me.  And an actress.  All of these people combined make up a very BITCHY woman.  But she’s got a heart of gold, and she only means well.

I was raised to be thick-skinned.  I guess I just expect everyone had that same upbringing.

And I guess I expect a bit too much.

Thanks, Ra, for following up on one of our FAVORITE warriors (yes, we have more than one).

I think I just completed my Christmas wish list.

I had a moment of stupid last night.  It hit me pretty strongly.

I was chatting with one of our directors last night and Bryan walked over.  It’s always my assumption that we know everyone in theatre because.. well.. because we usually do.  I’ve done theatre for fifteen years now in town.. holy shit, I’m old.. and he knows everyone through everyone else.  So we all were talking about “The Fantastiks” because this particular director had played El Gailo a few years ago.. which is one of the dreamiest parts.. and he stopped conversation cold.  Finally, he stuck his hand out to Bryan and introduced himself.  I felt so silly for not having done that.

So I said, “I’m so sorry.. this is my fiance, Bryan Comer.”

And Bryan BEAMED.  Like, a naked woman had just appeared in front of him and offered any and every pleasure he could imagine.. BEAMED.  And I felt very nice about that.

So we got home and were watching the news.  It was some stupid story on teachers who get too close to students, and one of the arrested teachers was shown.. and admittedly, she was attractive.  She was tall, blonde, large-chested.. and he would NOT stop going on and on about how hot she was. 

Yes, even the great and powerful Sarah Brown has moments of insecurity.

So I swallowed this huge lump in my throat and we went to bed.  He fell asleep quickly; it had been a long day for both of us, and the evening’s rehearsal had been especially trying.

And I just lay there, thinking.. nay, WORRYING.. that I wasn’t enough.  That if he REALLY and TRULY found tall, busty, blondes the cat’s meow.. well, clearly, I cannot give him that.  No amount of corrective surgery could give him that.  I will never be that girl.  I’m just a short, redheaded, average little troll of a woman.

Not only that, but how long until he grew tired of a redheaded troll?  I’m the after of Princess Fiona, I decided.  I don’t even get that lovely period of daylight where I’m Camereon Diaz.  Just green.

So I didn’t sleep much.  And this morning, because I had some time to kill, I slept in, curled up with the cats (who don’t care that I’m a troll, as long as I don’t eat them), then I grabbed a venti gingerbread latte before coming into work.

And, yes, I realize how stupid this all is.  But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t keep me up all night.