Happy Easter, you sweet bunny.

If this is my blog (it is) and on Sunday I update you (I do), then I’ll write whatever the heck I want.

Ugh, I don’t want to be drippy and sentimental.

“Oh, I’m Mia! Here’s some feelings, and then some thoughts on life ugh I’ve lived so much I love you I wanna cuddle you I like socks and organic toothpaste ugh…!”

I don’t want to be heavy.  I’ve already gained 12 pounds in the past four months (thanks a lot, happy and healthy relationship).

So here’s an update, or as I like to call it,
me rambling about things that happened with or without my knowledge or say“. Or as others might call it, The Passing of Time.

Monday: You know when you have nothing to do the next day? And you feel really good about what you just accomplished? And someone tries to tell you you’ve had enough to drink so you take it as a challenge to drink more? And you forget you’ve already tequila before having more whiskey?

Well. That was me Sunday night.

Me Monday was mostly just crying and then accidentally breaking a lamp while deep cleaning baseboards. Monday was not Mia’s Finest Day. Monday did, however, illuminate  the Boundaries of Jake’s Patience. Those boundaries are far reaching, y’all. Probably against his better judgement (please don’t change).

Tuesday: Applied for more jobs. Picked up a trade for print shoot with the Art Academy. Started off on the wrong foot. Learned I desperately needed new headshots. Learned that watching America’s Next Top Model reruns during the summers in high school set me up to fake knowing how to model. Ended with a hugely productive two hours followed by a beer with my boy Hagan. Took the bus back home. Went to Arlin’s and told a friend I’m sorry for being a shitty friend. Results may vary.

The path to honesty is long and unyielding and I think it never ends. I started off on the wrong foot. Results may vary.

But, whatever.

I said my piece and drank my beer. What else can we hope to accomplish?

Wednesday: I spent the day with a friend. He bought me brunch. We walked around discussing economics, relationships, and whatever else because those two topics happen to cover just about everything in between. Jake joined up with us.  The three of us rearranged his friend’s apartment (the two of us were very forceful in our suggestions that we do so until we did so).

I continued to have late night spasms of fear that I’ll be unemployed forever.

Thursday: I read up on laws regarding art and creative content. I compiled all my VO and on-camera work into one folder, ready to be put into a reel. I researched VO work, compiled information on actor websites, looked into union laws, and pay scales. Sent Jake some memes.

Called my mother and had our first of several “Presidential Talks”. Way back when, we went to the Ohio Bookstore on my birthday. There’s a section on presidents. The heavy hitters, your Lincolns or Roosevelts, have entire bookcases devoted to them and the various biographies they’ve inspired. Lesser presidents merely had a shelf, or worse, found themselves sandwiched between dramatic Watergate tomes or scandalous first wives’ exposés. My mother and I decided to pick at random a Lesser President biography and gift it to the other. She picked for me “Hayes of the 23rd: The Civil War Volunteer Officer”. I picked for her, “Woodrow Wilson: World Citizen”. Now we call each other on Thursday mornings and discuss the chapter we’ve read the previous week. Hence, “Presidential Talks”. I think by the end of this, I’ll stan Rutherford B. Hayes harder than anyone has in 100 years. My mother regrets to inform you that her book is written at a 6th grade level (“well, 1960’s 6th grade, so 9th grade now, Mia”) and will probably not enjoy it as much.

Put out more applications. Had lunch with Caroline to discuss Pearl. Lined up a job interview at a clothing boutique for this Tuesday. Got a sunburn on my shoulders. So long, pasty vampiric Mia!

Friday: Shuttled things to and from our respective apartments. Got my hair trimmed. Got a phone call from Jake to inform me he’d won a departmental award for being the best of all graduating seniors over the past year. Best in the same department I graduated from. I mean, I’m bringing an awful lot to this relationship (see: my butt, my wit, my charm and humility, incredible celebrity hair). But he’s literally been named the Best. Nominated by five different professors. Didn’t even know he was up for the thing. Also graduated Summa Cum Laude. So. We’re well matched.

Saturday: A family occasion; not my own. It would be untoward to discuss another’s grief. I think it’s alright for me to say Jake has a wonderful, loving family. I got to sit down over a bottle of wine and some charcuterie with his step mother. I went on a long walk with his kid sister–who reminds me an awful lot of how much I miss my own sister. I sat around the fire with his family and didn’t feel that far from home.

Sunday: Today. We went back for more family time. Easter dinner. Lots of bacon fat and jelly beans. Perhaps not obviously at the same time. We got home and I called my own family. Sister, brother, brother, mother; in that order. I’m exhausted now. I’m sitting in a t-shirt and undies and trying to wrap this up so I can resume my book (Michael Ruhlman’s The Soul of a Chef, for those curious).

We did it! It didn’t get heavy! I’m tired and so full of candy and good food. I’d like to think you are too.

I love you. I miss you, man, I really freaking do. Let me call you some time. Let’s catch up.   I hope to see you soon.


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