Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Sorriso. (Post finale in questo Blog)

SMILE
By Charlie Chaplin


Smile, though your heart is aching

Smile, even though it’s breaking

When there are clouds in the sky

You’ll get by.

If you smile, with your fear and sorrow

Smile, and maybe tomorrow,

You’ll see the sun come shining through for you.

If you just…





Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness.

Although a tear maybe ever so near

There’s the chime, you must keep on trying.

Smile, what’s the use of crying.

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile.

If you just...





Smile, though your heart is aching

Smile, even though it’s breaking.

When there are clouds in the sky.

You’ll get by.

If you smile, through your fear and sorrow

Smile, and maybe tomorrow,

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just…Smile





***



Questo sarà il mio ultimo post in questo blog. Il blog prima di questo uno è sopravvissuto per vedere ° gennaio di un nuovo anno. Ma questa volta, io parto prima del 2010 rotola intorno. Perché? Un paio di ragioni. Ci sono cose che voglio lasciare dietro di me e non può, perché questi si riflettono in questo blog. Inoltre, ci sono persone che leggono questo come un modo per stare al passo con me e usarlo come un motivo per non effettivamente in contatto con me o da interferire la gente. Non so quale e non giudicare. It just me dà fastidio. A dire la verità, si freaks me out un po '. Così eccoci qui.





Credo che il modo migliore per me per finire questo blog è quello di dire alcune cose ad alcune persone e poi lasciarle andare. Completamente. Come alcuni di voi sanno, questo è stato un blog di crepacuore e la ricerca di me. Non so perché, questo è ciò che i miei anni universitari trasformato in. Ma mi sono laureata in college ora. Che viene fatto. Per esempio, ho fatto una promessa a me stesso e un migliore amico che mi sarebbe stato fatto con il bere troppo: questo sforzo ha avuto successo.





Ho fatto una promessa a me stesso di lasciar andare vecchi romanzi e amicizie andato lungo la strada: che non ha avuto altrettanto successo. . Ho scritto un post simile sul blog più volte, solo per eliminarlo e decidere che non era necessario. È necessario, però. Se continuare a scrivere e di eliminarlo. Questo non è un addio definitivo a chiunque parlo qui - è solo un arrivederci ai sentimenti negativi e pensieri che turbinano intorno a mantenere nella mia testa. Ho bisogno di fare quella roba brutta in modo che io possa andare avanti. Forse possiamo andare avanti insieme? Suona come un addio, ma prometto che è solo l'addio alle cose che mi hanno causato dolore. Voglio ancora che tu nella mia vita, se si vuole ancora essere in esso. Penso di dare il mio cuore troppo facilmente e troppo rapidamente. Questo è per le persone che hanno ancora un pezzetto piccolo del mio cuore. Essi possono tenerlo. Voglio solo dire qualcosa a loro per primi.





Per chi ama tessuto e maglieria e musica: Lei è stato il più rilassato, l'accettazione e la comprensione. Grazie. Quando a te ho gridato nel febbraio dello scorso anno, era perché mi sentivo come se non uno del gruppo, che viaggiava ad ovest ... mi amava. Hai sempre. Parte comico, custode parte: vi ringrazio per la tua grazia e la saggezza. Sei bello. Vorrei che tu mi dica più veloce quando si è venuta a ovest. I miss you terribly. Non cercare di testo, perché so che sei occupato. E perché ho paura che io non sono più considerati un amico.





Per la coppia, nella parte più calda degli Stati: I miss entrambi terribilmente. Penso di perdere la vostra amicizia più di ogni altra cosa. So che alcune cose non potrà mai tornare al modo in cui erano. Mi auguro che si potrebbe, ho tenuto (hold?) Un posto speciale per voi nel mio cuore. Ho condiviso i miei segreti e le paure e le speranze con te. La ringrazio per l'ascolto. Mi dispiace se ho condiviso troppo. So che stai facendo cose buone in cui ti trovi. Prego Voglio sentire da voi presto. Se non lo faccio, sai che io ti amerò sempre come se sei un fratello e una sorella per me. E che non ho nulla, ma il rispetto e timore reverenziale per voi. Tu sei persone che sono buone.





Per la ragazza che non è mai stato ebraico: Noi abbiamo fatto l'altro un sacco di felicità e di dolore. Mi dispiace per il dolore. E sono grato per la felicità. Mi ha spezzato il cuore, per un bel po 'di tempo, che si vive a destra lungo la strada, ma non hanno alcun desiderio di vedere me o continuare la nostra amicizia. È colpa di nessuno e di entrambe le nostre colpe, allo stesso tempo. Io so i danni che sono stati grandi che ho causato alla nostra amicizia. Ma penso che non riuscivo a vedere le piccole cose che portano fino a grandi cose. Se avessi saputo che qualcuno Incontri per due mesi avrebbe tolto l'amicizia di tre anni, non avrei mai cercato di essere innamorata di quel ragazzo. Mi dispiace per qualsiasi lacrime o dolore ho causato. E spero che tu sai quanto mi sta cercando di influenzare in modo positivo.





Per l'amante dei fumetti, lottare fan, e scrittore creativo: Lei è stato così paziente con me. Vi ringrazio un milione di volte per entrare in contatto con me e mi tengono 'in loop'. Ha detto una volta che ero un 'porta chiusa a chiave di informazioni'. Siete più di me, ora. Apprezzo ogni invito è esteso a me, hai fatto ogni sforzo per includere me, e ogni volta che può aver detto "E Michelina?", Quando le truppe erano stati mobilitati per divertimento o cibo. Credo che in qualità di una coppia sul palco (molte volte!) E lavorando insieme per un anno ci ha fatto chiudere. Tu mi capisci, e perché mi comporto un certo modo più che molte persone non capiscono. Tell me a raggiungere a voi, come rimanere in contatto. Voglio ma ho queste paure paralizzanti che non dovevo. Che ci sono sussurri (entrambi sappiamo che esistono, io non so se sono su di me) di disgusto o di stanchezza, quando il mio nome compare in una conversazione. It makes me sound paranoico, lo so. Immagino che non importa. Vi ringrazio per tutto. Credo che avere talento incredibile come scrittore. Forse sarò un personaggio nella sua storia un giorno. Buona fortuna in tutto quello che fai.





Per l'uomo che una volta il desiderio di una vita in comune con me: ho imparato che aveva il bambino. Mi ricordo che erano ansiosi di essere un padre. Mi congratulo vivamente con te e inviare la mia benedizione. So che vi insegnerà il vostro bambino molto di baseball, sulla vita, e forse anche d'amore. Mi auguro che la lezione di insegnare al bambino è la cautela d'amore, di innamorarsi in un modo che è facile ma non troppo veloce. Eravamo entrambi in fretta. Ora so che non c'è fretta. Io non so perché non abbiamo potuto rendersi conto che allora. Dite a vostro figlio a prendere il loro tempo di innamorarsi. Possono imparare dagli errori hai fatto (e la mia. Ho quasi li chiamava 'la nostra', ma gli errori non appartengono a noi collettivamente più).. Volevo dire le ultime cose vi ho detto in aprile, e ho salvato la ultimi messaggi inviati a me per un tempo molto lungo. Ho guardato le World Series ed era difficile non pensare a te, mentre la squadra con cui sono cresciuto e la squadra della tua, che sei cresciuto ad amare giocavano a combattersi tra loro in competizione. Penso ancora che di quanto è bello Montauk è stato e come io un giorno sarebbe come tornare lì e vedere di nuovo. È stato un lavoro duro, ma io non pensare più a non voi molto spesso ... Ci sono ancora momenti voglio messaggio di testo, vedere come si sta. Mi trattengo. È più sano in questo modo, per noi due. Mi ricordo solo che hai un figlio e so che non ho bisogno di essere parte della tua vita. Mi ricordo che lei ha parlato delle donne hai avuto rapporti precedenti con. Se si parla mai di me, dire cose buone. Lasciare che il male scompare, non si parla. Io farò lo stesso per voi.





Per il musicista che è stato attratto da me perché ero sul palco: ho deciso che, come dolce e aperto e di capire molte cose che erano di ritorno quando si stava accadendo ... non sono le cose buone oggi. So che sono passati attraverso le cose molto più triste di quanto io possa mai immaginare. Più di ogni persona merita. Ma vorrei che lei ha avuto il coraggio di dirmi di lasciare la vita piuttosto che mi lasci fare un deficiente di me stesso, cercando di contattarti per tre mesi. Si dovrebbe avere detto qualcosa fatemelo sapere. Perché non hai detto una cosa e ho finito per guardare ridicolo e vergogna. Quando ho cercato di parlare Volevo solo un amico back. Io non ti capisco, ma presumo che abbiate una buona ragione per lasciare questo die completamente.





Per quello che mi ha fatto vedere Lost: Ci siamo capiti. Ma non capisco perché si va così bene insieme. I miss you terribly. Ma so che Lei compie cinque anni un sogno antico e per questo io sono felice. Spero di seguirti in seguito sogno. Siete stati così tanti diversi volti a me. Un amico, un amore, un insegnante, un nemico. Penso che forse ci conosciamo così bene che non vi è alcun modo per noi di strade si dividono. Non importa quello che facciamo, troviamo sempre di nuovo.

Quando penso a te, penso di questa song lyric: "Quello che mi fa l'amore di lui? Deve essere qualcosa che non riesco a definire. "Non permettere a nessuno di dirti che hai fatto di sbagliato, lasciando questo posto e andare a qualcosa che si ama. Si prega di non scompaiono mentre si è in una grande città, vivere il sogno. So che avete la forza.





Infine:





Ai miei lettori che sono stati amici fedeli. Che mi hanno dato una parte del loro cuore e prese parte del mio cuore e curata amorevolmente, che lo scambio: io ti amo più che mai. Io prego per voi ogni giorno. E sono così grata che ho la tua verità e la forza della mia vita. Grazie a voi, miei cari, vi ringrazio di più. Non posso esprimere cosa significhi per me.





Le buone presto cose arriveranno nella mia vita. Sono entusiasta di iniziare con una freschi pagina, senza la tristezza che ho portato avanti. Questo viene sollevato da me e non è più qualcosa che devo avere un peso me down. Per questo sono lieto. Essere tranquillo e soddisfatto nella vostra vita. parlare con te presto.



***



That’s the chime, you must keep on trying.

Smile, what’s the use of crying.

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just… Smile.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

It Is Now Ten Forty Five

Sitting in a meeting before starting rehearsal.

Good week this week. Audition tonight, I'm singing "Nothing" from A Chorus Line and "Smile" which is a really sweet little gem. If you're ever auditioning against me, you can't sing it. I saw it first. So hopefully I rock that. If I don't, I have two non-musical auditions next week. One of them is a pretty big deal, equity and all that fancy stuff. I think that just means that the likelihood that I get in is slim. It's worth a shot though.

I've been doing a weight-loss plan designed by UPMC and a study group. I've lost about nine pounds so far. Six more to go before I reach goal one. Eleven to go before I reach my dream goal. I've started keeping a food journal, which is an eye-opener. It makes you watch what you eat. I have an allotted amount of calories and grams of fat to eat, and a certain amount of exercise I should be doing every week. I've been slacking on working out, which is okay - I'm kind of interested to see how long it takes for my weight loss to plateau from just eating right. I would have been a lot happier with myself if I had done this sooner. I feel really good about myself when I get on the scale, I just have to keep this up. Even on the days I forget to record in my food journal, I go back the next day to figure out how much I ate - I end up being only a little bit over the target numbers. I'm eating smarter.

Work is good. I'm teaching two classes (one for 4-8 year-olds: adorable! And one for 9-16 year-olds: incredibly fast learners) and we have one class of each age group left before their final presentation. The little ones are learning how to "Explore" theatre and the older students are working on monologue and audition techniques. The younger kids are doing a play version of the book Princess Pigsty and the older kids have mock auditions to present. I love working with them, but this shows me how I'm not ready to have kids for another seven or eight years. There's nothing wrong with that, I don't think.


I've gotten together a list of graduate schools I want to audition for as well as a list of apprenticeships and professional internships to apply to for next year. It feels like it's really early to be doing all this but my OCD has kicked in and here we are. I know to apply to the internships in January and I've learned well enough to contact the U/RTA schools privately and ask if they'll see a private audition. That way I don't have to rely on U/RTA for my auditions, since they seem to be looking for a type that only a few people fit. That's the business.

All I need now is a place to stay in Chicago for a week while I audition. Because we all know how poor I am and I do NOT want to be paying $150 a day for six days. So readers! This is where you come in: Anyone know someone who could put me up for six days in the end of January/beginning of February? Comment here, email me, text me, what have you.

Thanks!

(It is now 11:01 and time to start a run of the end of the new show.)

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

All I Have To Say Is: I Am Happy To Be Sitting Here, Doing What Is Meaningful To Me.

Just finished doing some research for the theatre's soon-to-be-updated website. And now I'm wasting time online before I have to teach some six and seven-year-olds about theatre. Today's lesson will be on music and rhythm. I'm now a month and a week into my new job and it's not really 'new' anymore. It feels comfortable and like I know what I'm doing, for the most part. I have five plays out of nine under my belt (which is crazy). I also just finished my last solid theatre project outside of work. So! I'm auditioning like mad to get another one lined up. Also, graduate school research (which I should be doing now but somehow have avoided) as well as getting apprenticeship ideas ready as well. The game plan this year is to apply to schools that only accept every other year or every three years in order to cut down on auditions/application costs.

We'll see. my acting coach told me that she did all this intense stuff to get herself ready for her third year of auditions (this is only my second) like working with the Moscow Arts Theatre School and taking Russian acting classes and... all sorts of things I'm not sure I can do. Definitely not this year but even next year, I'm still unsure. I guess I just have to trust that it will all fall into place. So far God's taken care of me, so I'm thinking that won't change now.

Had a little bit of a heart stomping on Friday, but it was quickly fixed with plans to visit friends. Now I just gotta get paid so I can make the plans officially official. If I do go with said friends, I'll not be able to stage manage a weekend church tour of Over The Tavern. I kinda feel like I need a break for a half a minute, though. So I'm taking it if I can.

After teaching is a meeting for the youth group adult leaders, so that'll be an hour and a half and hopefully I'll have the energy to clean my room when I get home. It's a disaster area and I am trying to get it fixed. I just have to muster up the concentration and motivation to do it, but when I get home from these things I'm usually ready to veg out or sleep. Sound like laziness? It is! Maybe I'll come back tomorrow and post whether or not I cleaned. That will serve as motivation to get it done, lest public embarrassment ensues.

P.S. Today's my brother's birthday!






that's okay, heart. we'll get'em next time.

Friday, September 11, 2009

You Forgot All The Times I Never Let You Down

First four days of work were really uplifting. I do have a little bit of a cold now (I feel like I always write here when I'm sick, what is that?) so that was a downer. I have three days to finish memorizing show four of five and I'll have six days to get show five learned. There's still one to four scripts they haven't given us yet. We only got script five today. The thing about working at Saltworks is that it doesn't seem like work. However, it also seems very surreal. Like someone else is doing it for me? Or like it's still the summer. I know in my head that I'll be doing this for the next eight or nine months but I don't feel like it's really sunk in yet. Maybe once we start touring I'll 'get it' together in my mind.

I can't believe I'm getting paid for this. I have a lot of fun.

I'm also incredibly torn. I'm worried about graduate school stuff. The idea of re-applying and auditioning again is daunting. It's a lot of work. Of course. And it'd be worth it... Of course. But it's scary. And hard. Just like everything in life worth having, I guess.

I think too much.

Also, my five year high school reunion is next summer. What!? When'd that happen?

Ok. Tech rehearsal. Peace.

Monday, August 24, 2009

For Mark Before He Goes To College

Some life revelations I stole from a friend to make Monday morning brighter.

I wish Google Maps had an "avoid ghetto" routing option.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter? (Everything in moderation. Emphasis on 'mostly' and 'moderation'... not 'everything).

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

There is a great need for sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the hell was going on when I first saw it.

I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.

How on earth are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take two trips to bring my groceries in.

I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text.

A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

Was learning cursive really necessary?

LOL has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

My cousin's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.

Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, friends!

While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it....thanks Mario Kart.

MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories.

Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like, I know my name, I know where I'm from; this shouldn't be a problem....

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.

There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA . No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don't win, they are executed.

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Darnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

When I meet a new guy, I'm terrified of mentioning something he hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet anything everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time...


The 4-year old I babysit asked me the other day "What would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?


It really angers me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.


I wonder if cops ever get ticked off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.


I think the freezer deserves a light as well.


I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.


The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimate d that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel fat before dinner.

Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles...

As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch three consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

What Makes You Think I'd Lose My Mind For You?

"I'm no sociopath, I'm no Sylvia Plath I ain't no Francis Farmer, I don't fight for you
...
Didn't I see this movie, where the doctor looks like you?
Where the patient for impatient and said, "Sorry, doc, I'm through?"
I know where this is going, and I know what you're about.
Cause I have seen this movie and I walked out
I walked out
I'm walking..."

Next to Normal is my new musical obsession. In The Heights is up there, but I think while it's composition is unique, Next to Normal's is more complex. I haven't started REALLY listening to [Title of Show] yet. But that'll be coming by October when I tire of varying these two.

So right now theatre life includes a lot of Billy Shakes. I'm stage managing Hamlet and I'm assistant directing Love's Labour's Lost as well as playing Jaquenetta and u/s Katherine. That one is in the park which is great. I love being outside. I think this will quickly become an addicting kind of performing.

I actually went to see Shakespeare in the Park in Johnstown this weekend past. It was different from how we're doing it in Pittsburgh but good all the same. Too short of a trip, I didn't get to see all of the gang while I was out there. But! I figure I'll be back up to move Mark in soon so I'll see all of you cool theatre kats at the end of the month. Watched a good friend's final Johnstown performance (at least until next summer) and that was satisfying. Also got to eat Dollar General cookies and free ice cream sandwiches with Amanda (the ever patient dance instructor of my early UPJ years).

Seeing History Boys on Saturday at the Pittsburgh Irish and Classical Theatre.

I quoted Hamlet yesterday without realizing it "Brevet is the soul of wit." I thought I was just quoting the play WIT written by Margaret Edson but SHE was quoting Hamlet.

Accidental intelligence or stupidity for not realizing that I did it? You decide. I'm going to make a light and sound cue outline for Hamlet!

"It is a nipping and an eager air."

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

"If All My Ideas Were In Your Head, It Would Probably Explode"

That's what I was told by an eight year old I taught last week. Thank you, Quinton. You are forever immortalized on my blog. Congratulations.

I've been getting migraines lately. It's not very pleasant. Hum.

Hung out with Scotty for the first time in years. That was good. We're going to do that more often. Weird how he's found religion and he's better at it than I am now. I remember fighting him about Atheism, even this time a year ago. Best that he has no qualms with cutting me off when I start focusing on something that's dead and gone. That's why we're bffs 4+evah.

I also ran into a chair yesterday. Yes, folks. That's my fascinating life update. I ran into a chair. It was pretty spectacular.

I woke up in the middle of the night and this prompted me to get a glass of water. I stepped into the too bright kitchen to get ice, blinded by the white light. My feet were warm against the forever frozen tiles. Hopping back across the carpet (hoping to warm my feet), I made it into my room and shut the door. That was a mistake. Now I couldn't see anything. I figured that if I walked quickly forward I could sit down on my bed, place my glass on the nightstand, and go to sleep without having to turn on any unnecessary and pesky bright lights. I only got as far as walking quickly forward. I ran into my desk chair (the back of it pushing into my stomach) as I watched my glass of water fly poetically through the air and land not so poetically onto my bed. Not only did I have decide to sleep on the floor with just a blanket which somehow managed to stay dry (yeah, there was no way I was changing my bedsheets at three am) but I also had the wind knocked out of me. The cool and gross part of this experience is the bruise the size of Texas forming on my left thigh.

I don't think I'll be up for a glass of water in the middle of the night anytime soon.

I'm being choked by memories of things that have obviously long since passed. I've decided I will spend the next six to ten months working really hard on not letting that happen anymore. The only difficult part is what that means in terms of friendships... I have no idea where the lines are, what the rules are. Past romantic relationships are a lot easier to determine that stuff. Friendships? Yeeesh. I think that if I can just accept there are different levels of people's involvment in and out of my life and that those levels are bound to shift (and they do... constantly) that I'll be a lot better off.

I'm trying to stretch my own skin into something I feel comfortable with. And avoid exploding heads. One of which I'm succeeding with this week.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Except Valium. In Wee Fistfulls.

About once a month my family goes to visit an elderly couple from our parish. They invite us over to eat. We keep them company. They like company. We like food. It’s a great thing.

After dinner last week we were there and as always, the church gossip flew. This story was particularly wonderful because, while it sounds like it belongs in some email forward that you’ve read a hundred times: it’s not. And it’s true. Because, little old church ladies don’t lie very often.

There is an older woman (well, in her sixties) who is almost cartoon-like. We’ll call her Deborah Donegal, because I don’t know anyone named Deborah or Donegal. She wears ridiculously loud outfits full of bright colors and patterns and she is incredibly loud. She talks with her hands. And loves Jesus, of course.

About a year ago, Deborah started dating a gentleman who lived in the Hamptons on Long Island. She loved her ridiculously boyfriend very much. Her boyfriend had a wife. They lived in a mansion, this husband and wife. He lived on one side, she lived on the other, and the house staff (maids, cooks, butlers, etc) lived in the middle. I think he owned a large portion of an impressive company. Or maybe he was just a dot com millionaire who hit the bubble (I don’t really know what that means, but I know it’s something to do with money).

One day, Deborah received a phone call from Married Boyfriend. He said to her,

“Deborah. Are you going to be home tomorrow?”

She said she would be.

“Good,” he said. “I have a package being delivered to your house. You wait there to get it.”

At this point in the story, I was sure I was going to hear that a hit man showed up to old Debbie’s house and there was a heroic adventure chase in which the sixty year old retired secretary beat out the twenty-five year old killer. In reality, a flatbed truck pulled into her driveway with a brand spankin’ new specialty Jaguar car (don’t ask me what kind – I don’t know) with 29 miles on it. Married boyfriends are not exactly where I see things, morally but geeze. She got a good one, didn’t she?

So that’s absurd and insane but it didn’t end there. This went on for months. Month or two later the phone rings again:

“Deborah. Are you going to be home tomorrow?”

When she asked him why, he answered,

“I have a package being delivered to your house. You wait there to get it.”
So this time, it has to be the hit man, right? The wife of the guy made him say this into the phone with something lethal pointed at him, she’s sending a highly trained killer out to kill the woman her husband is having an affair with. Yeah?

No. Even better.

The next day, Deborah receives an overnight Fed-Ex package. Inside, wrapped in plain brown butcher paper is a thousand dollars. Cash.

At this point I interrupt the story… Are you kidding me? This can’t be for real. Little old church couple assures me that Deborah took the Jag out last week while it was nice out. She used to drive it about three times a year. Always in the summer. Always when it’s not raining. She’s going to sell it soon. A dealer about 20 miles away is offering to pay cash for it.

Deborah’s married boyfriend died about a year later, during the month of September. Sad. Something slow and painfully expected.

Christmas time that year, Deborah received another package. It had a giant red Christmas bow on it, very fancily wrapped and sent overnight via Fed-Ex. Inside the package was a solemn looking jar and a note. From the boyfriend’s wife.

“You wanted him so bad, you B----? You can have him.”

His ashes were inside the urn.




P.S. I just received an eight month full time contract to be an actress in an educational school touring theatre company. Things are looking up!

Friday, June 05, 2009

She Said That's Not The Color I Wanted I Said Blue


William Carlos Williams, This Is Just To Say



I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox
and which

you were probably

savingfor breakfast.

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold.


I'm pretty sure this poem inspired the following postcard in the first Post Secret book:



In any event... It's all in good fun and makes me want to eat more fruit that is sweet and cold.

Friday, May 22, 2009

"What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past”

 
I'm already kind of frazzled and burnt out for the summer. I think working the Children's Festival on top of being in a play is what has killed me. Hopefully a three day weekend will help me reset. I'm on two wait-lists for graduate school (one officially informed me, the other I'm just assuming since they haven't sent me a rejection notice yet). I had phone interviews for a theatre in Michigan and in Philadelphia. The one in Philadelphia asked me to go speak to them in person so I'm off to do that in about a week and a half!
Sometimes I wonder if it's a mistake to try and make a career out of something that I love so much. Will it be just 'work' if I do that? I'm burnt out now, what will it be like when I'm doing it 'for real', so to speak?
***
And then I wonder if I'm turning into the very things I hate. Sitting at a cubical, pushing paper and numbers around in circles. I may be good at this stuff but I don't particularly care for it.
***
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day
For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starless night
Just in case you feel you want to hold her
You'll have a pocketful of starlight
(Pocketful of starlight, hm,hm,hm,hm,hm,hm)
That's been stuck in my head. I finished LOST (well, up to the latest season) and a character sings it a little. If you've never watched the show - it's something interesting and addicting, certainly. LOST was also a mode of spending time with a friend I thought I, erm, lost.

"She gave me an ultimatum earlier that day...or at least strongly hinted to one. Be friends with you or chance losing her. Obvious what I chose... So I killed a friendship with someone...to be betrayed in the end, by the person who deemed it necessary...We always wind up with each other. Maybe not romantically, maybe not solidly...but we've both made some pretty wild detours...and here we remain."

I need more friends like this. More emails from people just saying 'let's just fix it and be friends, because it's worth it'.
I need people. Not any one person specifically (multitudes of specific people, actually)... just the ones I've asked to share a bit of my life with. I feel like (a lot of times) I lost -- there's that word again -- the good ones because I was too busy trying to figure out who I was. Am.
I still don't have the answer to that one.
And as much as I wish success, love, and happiness: When they find it, I worry: "What about me?" The answer, quite clearly is "What about you." (and not in the pitying questioning way. More like a statement). I'm letting them go because they have better things to do than stick around here. They've stuck around long enough, anyway.
I'm happy for you. I believe in you.
Just like always.
***
I'm in a strange mood. I was up in the middle of the night to talk to someone I don't see enough. I fell asleep talking to the one person whose emails I save for too long. And I haven't heard from the few folks I used to share meals with daily.
It's weird.
***
For when your troubles startn’ multiplying,
And they just might!
It’s easy to forget them without trying,
With just a pocketful of starlight

Catch a falling star and ( Catch a falling and . . .) put it in your pocket,
Never let it fade away ( Never let it fade away)
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,
Save it for a rainy day.
( Save it for rainy day ) Save it for a rainy day
Perry Como sang this song, which has rounded out the strangeness of my day nicely. This will probably be one of those posts I'll hope to set to 'private' in a month or six.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

The Purple Panda




I have a lot of creepy connections to the TV show Mister Rogers’Neighborhood. Before I ever moved to the Pittsburgh area, I watched this show all the time as a child. I think I enjoyed King Friday XIII but I don’t remember for sure. King Friday’s favorite color is purple. That seems irrelevant right now but it isn’t. Trust me.




Years later, when we moved to Pittsburgh, I realized that we were there in his hometown! Thrilling! The Pittsburgh Children’s Museum holds the actual Neighborhood of Make-Believe from the show and I saw it in 2001 when my cousin Michael came to visit (he was really little). I thought it was kind of cool, but being 14 didn’t admit it.




On my sixteenth birthday I came downstairs for breakfast and turned on the news (I frequently watched the news in hopes that a giant snow storm would cancel school for the day. And if that didn’t happen, I at least knew the weather and could dress appropriately… though at my school the temperature changed depending on what part of the building you were in). Mere seconds before I turned on the television, I thought to myself "I wonder if anything cool is happening in the news today, since it's my birthday..."



In a moment which was very Charlie Brown-esque, a solemn reporter announced "And today is a sad day for the city of Pittsburgh and many children across North America. Mister Roger's passed away last night due to..." Oh the irony.




Four and a half years later I gained summer employment working at a nursing home. This was the worst job I have ever ever had in my entire life and I have taken a vow never to do it again. Though many interesting, hilarious, and awful professional experiences happened there, one of many particularly interesting blips on my job radar that summer was Mrs. Aber. I don't remember her first name, only that she was a hypochondriac and a member of the PC unit (standing for "Politely Confused"... the "Garden Level" floor AKA the basement where they threw one staff member, fourteen severe Alzheimer's/dementia patients, and five exit doors). Her son, however, was incredibly nice and charming. He even brought the entire unit flags for the Fourth of July.



I later found out from a supervisor that he was Neighbor Abor. Yes! That's Right! As Associate Mayor of Westwood he assists Mayor Maggie and is a kind neighbor to everyone in Make-Believe. As a good friend in the real Neighborhood, he shares his many interests with Mister Rogers and his television friends. He is also the voice for H.J. Elephant III. Again Mister Roger's crosses my path and (this time) thankfully disappears for the time being.




Hold on very tight now, folks.




For the life of me I can't remember this part of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood story but the intrawebs confirms it's existence. This isn't made up. In fact, some people asked on their blogs what special mixture of crack Fred Rogers' was on when he introduced this concept to the show.
On Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, Planet Purple is a planet on which everything is purple, and everyone and everything is the same. Every girl on Planet Purple is named "Pauline," every boy, "Paul." Purple Panda (played by David L. Nohling), a resident of Planet Purple, can return there "the purple way" (just by thinking). Moreover, all of the planet's inhabitants speak in monotone English.




In his book If We Were All the Same, Fred Rogers details attempts by the residents of Planet Purple, tired of all being the same, to become more colorful.




Planet Purple was discovered by Lady Elaine Fairchilde. Who is she? She’s the outspoken, cranky schemer who took over the Museum-Go-Round after the Froggs moved; often known to say "Okay, toots."



I love that she says "okay, toots."



She is generally the antagonist when a storyline calls for one, but her neighbors are quick to forgive her because they understand her so well. It is discerned during the series that she has low self-esteem and is extremely self-conscious, and because of this, her neighbors are extremely patient with her until she finally learns her lesson. Despite her own faults, she consistently shows King Friday when he is wrong about something and frequently goes to extremes (such as physically moving her museum or modifying a comet) to do so.




Who cares?



I certainly didn't until about twenty four hours ago. For the second year in a row, I'm a summer intern at the Pittsburgh International Children's theatre for the second year, and this time I get to help out with the Children's Festival (which, is going to be great. It's next week and you should come... I'm VERY excited about it). One of the shows is a live and interactive presentation of Mister Roger's Neighborhood. Mr. McFeely and his speed deliveries are the star now that Fred has passed away. Apparently on a professional level, while he's very nice, Mr. Mr. McFeely is also very unorganized.




While making final arrangements with my supervisor, I could hear her on the phone saying,




"The Purple Panda? Oh! Yes, yes, I will. I will. Yes. The Purple Panda. Got it."




She hung up the phone and let out a stream of air she was holding in, perhaps to avoid exclaiming a 'bad' word. One of my co-workers laughingly asked:




"What are you talking about over there, pandas and purple and what?"




My supervisor came out from her cubical... When this happens, it means someone is in trouble, someone is getting more work to do, or someone is about to hear a story. This was a story.




"Do any of you remember the Purple Panda?"




No and what the hell are you talking about!? I couldn't say that so I joined my fellow interns in staring at her, dumbfounded.




"Well it's this character from Mr. Rogers and the guy who originally was the Purple Panda lives in Seattle so I told Mr. Mr. McFeely that there was no way that were were flying him out for two shows. Mr. McFeely agreed that wouldn't be necessary. I thought that we had agreed he would find someone local to play the Purple Panda but apparently that has become my responsibility four days before the festival starts."




Walking back to her office she asked in sarcastic hope which one of us wanted to dress up like the Purple Panda. "Don't all jump at once!"




You all know where this is headed, friends.




As I went to throw out the ticket sales information for the day, I practically ran her over. "This could be your big break," she said with a smile, "the last four years of your life worked to this moment." The whole office was making fun of it, yes. It's ridiculous... yes. And this lady wrote me countless letters of recommendations for graduate school. Yes. I said yes. "I'll do it."
"You will? Are you serious?" She laughed as much in relief as in jest of my new title. Purple Panda the Festival Intern. I should have business cards printed.




As she called to tell Mr. McFeely she had found him a Purple Panda she said "As much as we're knocking it, this really is a good chance for you. When you get him to focus, Mr. McFeely knows a lot of people."




Mister Rogers ended every program telling children... "You've made this day a special day by just your being you. There's no person in the whole world like you. And I like you just the way you are."




Who's playing Mister Roger's Purple Panda for a week? This kid. Right here. Mister Roger's is haunting my life.



"I Think There's Just One Kind of Folks. Folks."



After spending one year with people...


- You recognize their laugh in a crowded room, or across campus.

- You know what will make them angry.

- You learn how to hold a conversation with them.

- You watch them succeed at a task that first seemed overwhelming.

- You understand their sense of humor.

- You can call them to ask for directions when you get lost driving.

- You hear their best stories.

- You let them cry alone so they can have some 'space'.

- You discuss romance.

- You listen to their secrets.

- You see their dreams ahead of them.

- You recognize sparks of talent.


After spending two years with people...


- You know their favorite color.

- You see who they are falling for (you don't have to ask anymore)

- You fight with them over trivial things... And laugh about it not an hour later.

- You call them late at night for all sorts of things (adventures, tears, catching up).

- You travel.

- You share stories together about "that one night last year when..."

- You gossip.

- You fall into step with each other.

- You broaden your friendships by introducing other people from other places.

- You pull silly stunts.

- You ice skate.

- You get organized.


After spending three years with people...


- You recognize their knock on your door.

- You see a flaw or two.

- You know when they are lying.

- You remember the names of their siblings.

- You can dial their phone number from memory.

- You swap clothing.

- You share similar tastes in music.

- You are a part of the same organizations.

- You offer/receive unsolicited advice.

- You have conversations about the details, the broad things have been covered before.

- You remind each other about the essay due next week.

- You grow up a little.


After spending four years with people...

- You can tell what mood they are in based on the way they answer the phone.

- You forget to mention things that are important to each other.

- You laugh at things from three years ago.

- You speak in future and past tense almost interchangeably.

- You disappoint them and break their heart.

- You pretend to place less value on their opinion.

- You dance around the issue to avoid an argument.

- You have matching t-shirts.

- You know why they are wearing their favorite outfit.

- You sing together.

- You read their body language accurately.

- You grow apart a little.

- You see what that spark has turned into. And you're happy for the transformation.










I'm a college graduate. That's weird to say.

Coming up next: A summer of theatre. Followed by [ERROR_PATH_NOT_FOUND: Invalid Entry] in the fall.

Monday, April 06, 2009

Just Hold On

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

It'll get better.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

And Why Do You Sing Hallelujah If It Means Nothing To You?

A lot can change in a month. Heck, a lot can change in a day.

Golgonooza has passed for the last time. My cast was incredibly successful. Their transformation was impressive to say the VERY least.

I've been rejected by VCU (though the visit was incredible) and was given the suggestion "that (I) need to take a few years to get (my) feet wet in the real world before coming into (their) graduate program. (They) would suggest that (I) work in a non-academic theatre environment for a while..." I'm waiting on two more but since I haven't heard back from them at all yet, I'm thinking they're just waiting to send out rejection letters until those offered spots say they accept. I knew going into this it may take as long as three years before I am accepted. I have no choice but to wait. So... I'm waiting.

People will talk. They'll have their opinions, their "I told you so"s and "I knew it all along"s. I can still hear the echo of a person five kisses back saying: "You are talentless." Ten schools agree.
I may be talentless but I'm also determined... and perhaps foolish enough to continue persuing things that bring me incredible joy.

Keep your head down, your chin up, your nose clean. What have you.

I don't know where I'm going now. This was my plan of action for next year and I have no back up (which is a mistake - obviously). I keep asking (without reply)...

"What am I supposed to do?"

Monday, March 09, 2009

Hate To Break It To Ya, But The Ocean Is Not Going To Take Your Gold Card.

I was really fed-up by the day after my birthday and started one of those "10 Things About 10 People" posts. You know, you write about people and don't say what their name is so that they can have fun going crazy trying to figure out which comments are about them. I ended up only getting to person five before I quit. But each person had one to three paragraphs. I saved it as a draft and haven't looked at it until today. Some of the stuff I said, though really honest... would not be taken kindly. I'm only around for two more months and while that was therapeutic: why start problems.

I like to think I'm some kind of tough and confrontational "I don't care" attitude person. I'm really so afraid of conflict I will do almost anything to avoid it.

I'm going to NYC to see whatever is on sale at TKTS and In The Heights (which, if you haven't heard the cast recording... you need to go listen to it quickly) tomorrow and Wednesday. We're staying at some IPod hotel with bunk beds... which is incredibly cool.

Graduate school responses are as follows:

1 interview3 no answer yet4 "you suck"2 "we'll take you but we're not an accredited institution"

So that's cool. In the way that the word 'cool' is dripping with sarcasm. Although an interview is grand... I mean hey, I only need one place to say "yes!" and where I'm interviewing they take (get this!) HALF of everyone they talk to. I just have to use my charm and good looks to get in (again with the sarcasm! BAM!). I will stay confident for the interview but past that... well, I'll be done so my confidence can deflate and I can just sit and allow total strangers decide my entire future. I can't tell you how much fun that is.

Good new is I have an internship at the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust again AND I get to be a teacher at Saltworks! At least my summer is planned! :-) I can't have more fun than working two theatre jobs. Knowing me, I'll try to do a show and throw some waitress-ing in as well.

“This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is only a test…If this had been an actual emergency, you would have been instructed where to tune in your area for news and official information. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program"

Sunday, February 08, 2009

And It's "When You Wish Upon A Star!" Not "When You Wish Upon A Planet" or "Saturn"!

I'm playing Marcie in Almost, Maine in the scene "Where It Went". I'm also running lights behind the scenes at Dancing At Lughnasa. Let me know when you can make it! :-)
For the fourth time in 20 years the Pitt-Johnstown Theatre Department is performing double repertory theatre. From February 19 to March 1 (Thursdays through Sundays), two theatre productions will play in alternation at the Pasquerilla Performing Arts Center’s studio theatre, for a total of eight performances.

This season’s repertory consists of Brian Friel’s Irish play, Dancing at Lughnasa and John Cariani’s Almost, Maine.
In Dancing at Lughnasa, five unmarried sisters labor to hold their family together in 1936 Ireland. Their struggles are complicated by the arrival of their older brother, a retired priest from Uganda, and blessed by the presence of a small child. The play made its New York debut in 1991.

Cariani’s Almost, Maine is new, having opened in New York in 2006. The comedy features a cast of 19 and depicts nine simultaneous happenings on a late snowy evening in the tiny town of Almost, Maine. Frosty weather notwithstanding, the play is a warmhearted valentine, each encounter punctuated with the magical northern sky illuminated by the aurora borealis.

Performances of Dancing at Lughnasa are at 8 p.m., February 19, 21, and 27, and March 1. Almost, Maine plays February 20, 26, and 28 at 8 p.m., with a 2 p.m. matinee on February 22.

Tickets are $15 and can be purchased by calling the Pasquerilla Performing Arts Center at 1-800-846-2787 or 814-269-7200 from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Mondays through Fridays. The box office is open for in-person sales from 9:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday.
Discounted tickets of $13 are available to senior citizens (over 62 years of age) and members of the Pitt-Johnstown Alumni Association. Tickets for students and children are $10. Additional information is available on line at: upjarts.com.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Chicago

Chicago. The book The Jungle says: "In the twilight, it was a vision of power."

I have on audition done and about five to go. I had my first ever 25 hour day on Saturday (because Chicago is an hour behind Pennsylvania) and that was fascinating. Last night I snuck down to the third floor of the hotel and found a room unlocked that was similar to today's audition rooms. So I practiced for about an hour before doing some girly stuff (my nails, bubble bath) and getting some shuteye.

There's a really pretty church about two blocks away and since I had a great first audition, I figured it would be best to say a quick thank you in mass.

The superbowl is tonight but to be honest I don't know how much of it I'll watch. Double auditions tomorrow means I need some more zzzs.

You'd think I would be nervous, but so far it's just been really exciting. Keep those fingers crossed!

Friday, January 16, 2009

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found

Wednesday

8:54 a.m. Six minutes until I’m expected at work, and I haven’t left my dorm room to make the frozen trek across campus. I want to look somewhat decent for the first meeting of the campus choir, because I’m the president. That sounds like bragging. I'm not, it isn’t that big of a deal really. I sing, do paperwork when the school needs it, and make sure we get our required service project in for the semester. Ironing my shirt took longer than I thought, and I had to do something with my hair that ends with burning the nerves off of my finger tips as I juggle hot rollers. It’s grown too long to let it air-dry curly. When I do that it looks stringy. I spin around and use my bare feet to dig through the piles of clothing on the floor. Trying to find my other shoe is like trying to find a miniskirt in Vatican City. Sure, it’s probably there someplace but you’re going to have to work really hard to find it.

8:56 a.m. I let the apartment door shut behind me as I tuck my hair behind my ear. For goodness sake, I forgot to put on earrings. Because I’m wearing purple, I can sport my birthstone jewelry (amethyst) that I’ve been receiving since I was five. I have two pairs of purple earrings. The first set is just the stones set rather plainly. The second set, though, they’re my favorite. They have a tiny (like, pinprick tiny) diamond set above a little teardrop cut of amethyst. I have a matching necklace and bracelet, too. Probably the nicest thing I own (since my laptop is slowly but surely dying and I don’t have a car).

Jamming my key into the lock, I tell myself that I try too hard to make a good impression. It just pushes people away. Then I think, “Well, I might as well look nice while I do it,” and throw open the door.

I only wear that set when I want to feel extra pretty, so I reach for my earring container and pluck out the favorite set. Placing the container on my desk, next to the pile of papers I have to sort through and the text book I didn’t read, I drop one of the earrings. You know, Murphy’s Law has yet to fail me.

8:57 a.m. Scrambling on the floor has not helped me find this earring. It isn’t under my laundry bag, didn’t fall into a desk drawer that was half open, and certainly isn’t under that DVD I have meant to return to Blockbuster two weeks ago.

A reflex my mother instilled in me when I was five years old kicks in as I say aloud in a sing-song voice, “Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony, Please look around. Something’s been lost and must be found.” As a child, I watched my mother say that and not two minutes after, she would find a missing piece of paper she needed, the dog who slipped into the laundry room when she wasn’t looking, my brother’s clip on tie, etc. From somewhere in the house I would hear a triumphant cry of “I found it! Thanks Saint Anthony!”

I’m late, forget it. I’ll keep looking later today. Thanks a lot, Antonio. Now I’m really late. I throw in the not as favorable yet still acceptable earrings and half run across the ice.

9:05 a.m. The phone rings at work. It’s my boss.

“Arts Center.”

“Late again, today?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I…”

“Early is on time. On time is late. Get your ass to work on time!”

“Yes…”

*click*


“…sir.”

Friggin earrings.

9:34 p.m. I still can’t find the missing one. I vow to clean this weekend, not mention to my poor grandparents I lost their favorite gift to me, and swear it has to turn up eventually. I mean, it’s an earring, it can’t go far. Right? Right. I hope.

Thursday

9:52 a.m. Crap! I forgot to look for the earring this morning. Well, there’s always tonight.

2:34 p.m. I grab the yellow ‘sign-in’ sheet and write my name as a tutor for writing. Basically, I get paid to sit and do homework, since it’s a rarity that someone comes into the Academic SUPPORT (they are calling it ‘Success’ this year, and after three years of hearing ‘support’, I think ‘success’ sounds like a cheesy way to make struggling students feel better about themselves) Center to ask for help on their papers. The other tutors and I discuss the lovely -26 wind chill factor and how it’s supposed to go up to a balmy 0 later tomorrow.

3:47 p.m. Another half of an hour and I can go home. I’m sick of reading Dante’s Inferno, I can’t concentrate. More idle chatter ensues until one of the work study students who sits at the front desk approaches our table.

Did anyone lose an earring in here yesterday?”

Everyone shakes their heads. “I don’t think so,” says Megan in that slow way one talks when trying to think back on the events that happened the day before.

Are you sure? We think one of the tutors lost it. It’s purple…

“YOU were wearing a purple earring, Mich!”

Yes. Yes I was. But I had both of those when I came home. It’s the pretty one that I was missing, and I lost that four hours before I came in to tutor. "I’ll take a look, but I don’t think it’s mine."

Front Desk Girl opens a drawer and pulls out an earring with a tiny (like, pinprick tiny) diamond set above a little teardrop cut of amethyst. Thanks Saint Anthony.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

New Year, Same Goals.

2009 started with House, tears, and resolutions.

The first is to get into graduate school. Followed by cutting my calorie intake down to 1400-1800 a day, working out five to six days a week, and drinking about a liter of water a day. Next is to not pursue any sort of romantic involvement between now and July. Not kidding, here. I've about given up on matters of the heart for now, the best thing I had ever seen ended up biting my in the backside. Last is to not get so stressed out/take things so seriously.

I'm not doing really well on the first and last ones. Graduate school stuff is due in the next three days and I'm so overwhelmed I had to step away for a sec. To write about how overwhelmed I am. Which is stupid, but there you have it. I'm trying to breathe but this is just... I get to the point where I shut down and say 'screw it' to everything. And I know that's bad, I'm not giving up, I know how close I am but I just put a ton of pressure on myself and I freak out and feel like I'm going to scream/cry/throw up and then I start writing run-on sentences.

It doesn't help that I am writing emails about things that happened last semester to professors about clubs - not that that's bad, but I'm having really poignant memories of my last days of the semester with the ex and it's bringing up six million more bad feelings. Wah wah, whine whine, heartbreak heartbreak, whatever. I know, I'm a pain.

Last calendar year hurt. A lot. I have to push through this stupid paperwork to prove I'm worth something. It's hard with all that baggage in the way. It's too much right now. It's too too much. I'm strong, I can handle it but it'd be nice to have a little help here and there.