britt starts over

Last time you heard from me, I was processing the traumatic event of watching the house I live in with my younger brother burn down. Now that the dust has settled (a way too relevant idiom to use, I know) and I have almost fully recovered from the event, I am experiencing a strange new giddiness about life that I cannot shake. (Not like I would want to.)

In some weird way, this whole sudden homelessness thing has been a blessing in disguise. This period of uprooting has offered me so many things that I wouldn’t have been able to discover and experience otherwise. And for that, I am so grateful.

First and foremost, I have the incredible opportunity of living with one of my very best friends, Elizabeth Evans.

we take our kombucha very seriously. we've been drinking a crap ton of it since I moved in.

we take our kombucha very seriously. we’ve been drinking a crap ton of it since I moved in.

Liz and I have some pretty epic living-together history, you guys. We roomed together in college (okay, so I wasn’t technically on the lease, but I essentially lived on the couch at Liz/Dani/Suzzane’s house throughout school) and for my first year after college.

We’ve also, of course, grown-up a lot since our last living-together adventure:

sorry for vandaulizing your room, Liz.

sorry for vandalizing your room, Liz.

i am SO much more growun-up and mature now, you guys.

i am SO much more grown-up and mature now, you guys.

But for real. We are ADULTS now. Liz even owns her own house and stuff. And has FOUR animals. Well, only three of them are hers, but still. I mean, the woman brews her own kombucha. She’s kind of a big deal.

Anyway. Yesterday Liz says to me: “Britt. It’s like my whole house is your walk-in closet. You’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

Truth. I should be on Cribs right now.

(But let us allow these fotografias speak for themselves.)

Check out my awesome Living-On-Air-Mattress-In-Living-Room-Suite, complete with fireplace, flat-screen TV, and cats:

living large.

living large.

Hotel Liz comes with free cats.

Hotel Liz comes with free cats.

Pretty legit, right? I should get my house burned down more often. I’m kind of loving this.

The first morning I woke up in Liz’s Living Room Suite, I had a cat sleeping on my back (Pancho), another cat sleeping on my legs (Queso), and a dog laying on the ground next to my face (Moe). It was awesome. I was kind of hurt that the third cat (Jasper) didn’t join in on the snuggle puddle, but I got over it. Jasper is the only animal not owned by Liz or her boyfriend Shane, so I didn’t hold it against him.

Liz also cleared out a coat-closet for me to use as my own personal closet:

not too shabby, huh?

not too shabby, huh?

God, she’s the best!! I’m pretty sure I have more closet and storage space available to me now than I had in the basement-closet-room at my brother’s college house (RIP, house). This is the most backwards Life-Upgrade I have ever experienced. So I’m going with it.

So yeah. As far as residing on a living-room air mattress in a house with 6 adults and 4 animals goes, I have won the jackpot. I am truly happy and oddly feel more settled and centered than I have in a really long time. Liz and I play/write music together almost every evening. We have lazy Sunday mornings where we drink jugs of kombucha, read tarot cards, and examine our aura colors over breakfast(#CatholicSchoolFail).  We watch crappy TV and listen to good music. I am inspired to eat better and exercise more. I am reminded what Family feels like. I could not dream of a better place to call home before moving to Los Angeles in 3 short months. Life is so crazy sometimes.

Speaking of life being crazy sometimes, check out what my past week was like:

My Week:

In the midst of trying to maintain (what was left of) my sanity while systematically going through everything I own after the fire (as all of my shit is currently scattered about Liz’s dining room, waiting to be sorted), life refuses to slow down. And that’s okay. I like it that way.

This week brought about three callbacks (two of which I booked, one of which I’m waiting to hear back from… take THAT, fire!), a full-time work week at the ‘ol day job, and a major writing binge I had to get out of my system. I also somehow found time to watch a couple new episodes of Arrested Development (YES!) and The Bachelorette (for SHAME). This whole “starting over” thing has given me such a renewed sense of energy and purpose…or perhaps I am just too afraid to slow down and process the state of my life and the scary changes ahead? Whatever. Either way, I am thankful for this constant movement. It at least reminds me that I refuse to sink.

In the Theatre Vertigo world, we now have three weeks of the “Aloha Say the Pretty Girls” run under our belts. We only have two weekends to go until we say goodbye to this wacky-ass play…!

Photo by Gary Norman

Photo by Gary Norman

Another highlight of my week was the release of this video on MTV Hive and elsewhere:

A year or so ago I had the pleasure of working with one of my very favorite bands, Hey Marseilles, on this music videoThese boys are mad talented and this video is incredibly beautiful. I simply cannot stop watching it. The song is called “Heartbeats” and it is my favorite track on their new album, “The Lines We Trace“. Please do yourself a favor and watch this powerful video. Watch it NOW.

…Okay. Did you watch it? Good. I can tell by the tears splattered all over your keyboard that you did. I TOLD you that shit is good!!

In other big news, I have officially set my Move-To-Los-Angeles date:

LA MOVEThat’s right! It’s ON!! I could not be more excited. And coming from a girl who was born on Friday the 13th (it all makes sense now, doesn’t it?), I’m pretty sure this is the luckiest moving date I could have chosen.

3.5 months. Holy crap. 3.5 months until I am reunited with my Dani and living in a  completely different place with a completely new life. As I was happy to read in Dani’s last post, we are both swimming in gratitude and love of life and are both excited to start very new chapters in our lives. (As in, the incredible Dani is leaving for an epic adventure to India this Friday… Is she awesome or what?!)

And to keep this gratitude train chugging along, for those of you wondering how my brother Nate is doing after the Epic House Fire of 2013, here is the update! He has moved into (free!) on-campus housing with his roommates until he finds a new house to live in and is starting a new job at my office next Monday (two Harris kids in the same office? Uh oh…)! Nate is currently focusing on making money to get back on his feet and to save up for new instruments. He’s got this. When it comes to music, the boy is determined.

And so, one day at a time, we journey on..!

…As long as I have enough kombucha for the road.

** #jesuiteducationforthewin #paganways

** #jesuiteducationforthewin #paganways

Thanks for reading, friends.

infinite rainbow love,

~britt

britt talks moving into her bro’s basement, part 2

It happened, folks. I did it. I moved into a closet-sized dungeon room in my 21 year-old brother’s basement to save money to move to Los Angeles. This photo is for Mom:

ROOMIES. Me, bro, and Severus Snape (he goes where I go).

ROOMIES. Me, bro, & Severus Snape (he goes where I go).

…Nothing but trouble, that’s for sure.

I left this glorious studio apartment with city skyline view in SE Portland (let’s pretend I made my bed in that photo):

MyApt   bye bye apt

For this 100 sq. foot room in a college house (go Pilots):

closetroom2 closetroom3

closetroom1

(thank you to the lovely Suz for looking hot in above photos)

And because I am a badass, I pimped out the closet-room to look like this:

sultanpimpden2 sultanpimpden1

That’s right, this girl will be on Cribs next season. Check out that sick gold Sultan-curtain I have for a door. Who needs a door when you can fly straight into your room on your magic carpet? A door is clearly unnecessary, so fuck that. I would like to think that all of this basement-dwelling is prepping me for the Ultimate Basement Adventure when I move into Dani’s place in Silver Lake. I shall be reining Queen of the Basements!!

seriously, don't mess.

seriously, don’t mess.

With every dollar I save on rent and every college party I live through while creepily squatting in the basement as a post-collegiate troll, I am one step closer to being prepared to make The Big Move. Eye on the prize, 25-year-old girl living with four 21-year-old boys, eye on the prize.

I am impressed that I could execute a move in the midst of such a busy time. I couldn’t have done so without my amazing friend Suzzane helping me move car-fulls of my crap across town. And yet, in the midst of this moving extravaganza and 32 hours at the day job, I was still able to sink my teeth into the juicy FUN stuff of BrittLife that keeps me keepin’ on.

My Week

Rehearsals for Stephen Richter ‘s new film Birds of Neptune have become even more exciting as we are mere weeks away from production. I cannot wait to for this story to be told.

(c) Reverie Films, 2013,concept image

(c) Reverie Films, 2013,
concept image

I also had the pleasure of working with the genius goofballs from We’ll Fix It In Post on a short called “Do You Love Me”. To tell you anything about it would be a complete spoiler. So… you will just have to check in with me next week to watch. That’s right, those crazies work fast!

734181_10151463310896399_1712763042_n

(c) Chris Wilson

——————————-

…Beware, as I am also a crazy that works fast. In just under two-weeks time I have successfully made a move happen and created a solid financial plan with 9-month budget to get debt-free and saved up to move to a new city. But I know the hardest part is yet to come. Sticking to that financial plan will be a bitch. Eye on the prize, Harris, eye on the prize.

Back at my brother’s–er, my house–, I walked up to the back door to use my new key for the first time. As I walked past, I couldn’t help but realize that I had never seen the backyard during the day-light hours. Behold…. the Backyard of Broken Dreams. I spied a large table broken in half and defeated on the lawn, several PBR cans, a (surprisingly upright) barbecue, and several dilapidated plastic chairs strung about on the grass. It’s likely that a stampede of wildebeests crashed through my poor brother’s yard. And that’s not really something you can plan for in the Northwest.

I walked inside and informed my brother’s roommate of the backyard situation, as any good and caring sister-roommate does: “You guys have a lot of broken furniture and crap in your yard.” To which my new roommate responded, “Yes, there is a lot of broken furniture and crap in…our yard. It’s your home now too.”

3…2…1…Awwwwww!

“ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONEOFUS!!”

And the Post-Collegiate-Troll-Squatting-in-the-Basement’s heart grew three times its size:  “It’s my broken furniture too!! And my backyard!! And my home!!”

I do have life outside of the golden curtain of my sultan den… and it will be glorious. As reining Queen of the Basements, I say it shall be so.

Basement cat