Hold Onto Hope

Bad? Dreams...

2011-04-11T07:35:00.001-04:00

Ok. So I just had the most horrific dream... I think... I don't know if it was bad or not. But it was intense. I was in the house I lived in when we first moved to Pittsburgh, the one my parents built together before they seperated. But, my dad wasn't living there, just like he doesn't live with my mom now. I think we was briefly at the house visiting my brother but I know he wasn't living there... I think. All of our own stuff was there, though. And my mom, my brother, and my aunt were clearly in the dream. I can't tell if my grandmother was or not. And I was there. But I was dead.

: Like, I got up off of the couch in our old family room, and I said, "hello?" to my mom, I think, and she was like "Mich?" and I said "You can hear me?" I was watching her in the kitchen... And she said "Yeah, and I can see you" and she gave me a hug. And she was like, "I can't believe I can see you and hear you." I tried it with my brother, and he could too. I can't remember if my grandmother and aunt could or not. I think they could. And I knew I only had a week to be there and talk to them. My dad couldn't either.

But then I figured out I could write. I don't know if I could pick up a utensil, I think I could. But in my dream, I distinctly remembered this happening to my grandfather, too (it didn't, in real life) and he only had a week, and when he wrote to us after he died, he traced words into styrafoam plates, etc. to communicate... none of that actually happened.

Oh! My aunt could hear me! I asked how I died, and she said I got really sick in September, and that I never went to Italy and I just got worse around new years... So it must have been March... it was nice outside, but I stayed inside. And I asked her if I had been on drugs. She said she didn't know. There were pictures of my out for the funeral that I looked through. My mom picked them, they were all okay.

I told my mom I was scared because I didn't know where I was going, and my mom just pointed my face up to the ceiling (I remember seeing the details of the ceiling really well) and insisting I was going 'up there'. And I knew I was, but only for judgment, but then I was really terrified about after that. Like, REALLY terrified. My mom is really religious, so I asked her if I could communicate with a priest, because I didn't have a last confession, and if I could write it all down (I could use a pencil to write, in my dream i remembered my grandfather couldn't... again, none of that actually happened with my grandfather's death.) but she said I couldn't have confession because, well, i was dead.

At some point, I was talking to people I knew online, my friend Nate. While my dad and brother played video games around a computer or small TV in the finished basement/playroom near my dad's desk and the couch. I also walked to a gas station, I don't know why, i think I filled up a car that I didn't recognize or drive there, but gas was like$4.18 and when i was done (because really it was stealing because no one could see me...) some guy was like 'nice job' in a van across from me. I turned around and said 'you can see me?' and he said 'yeah, you look better from the back, though' and drove away.

I mean, I was dead. I woke up really disoriented and surprised to find I had a working real body/was alive. It was very very very vivid. I've only had two other dreams this vivid. I didn't sleep much this weekend, so that could be part of it. But the other two were about Christ like, speaking with me. When I was a teenager.

I don't know what to do with all this or what it means. Some people would say it doesn't mean anything but... I don't know. Anyway. Thanks... I just didn't know who to talk to about it.

Sorriso. (Post finale in questo Blog)

2009-12-02T10:25:00.000-05:00

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.

It Is Now Ten Forty Five

2009-11-03T10:40:00.002-05:00

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.)

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

2009-10-13T15:18:00.003-04:00

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.

You Forgot All The Times I Never Let You Down

2009-09-11T17:20:00.002-04:00

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.

For Mark Before He Goes To College

2009-08-24T10:46:00.002-04:00

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.

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

2009-08-05T09:45:00.002-04:00

"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."

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

2009-07-14T16:03:00.002-04:00

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.

Except Valium. In Wee Fistfulls.

2009-07-02T16:19:00.002-04:00

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!

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

2009-06-05T13:59:00.003-04:00

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.

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

2009-05-22T13:38:00.005-04:00

I wanted to go through my posts and turn the ones that I didn't like, or that were no longer relevant to 'private' so only I could see them - but I don't know how to do that. It seems like it's an all or nothing deal.

If people read this, can you comment and tell me who you are that's reading? I'm genuinely curious. I see that I get about 60 people a week stopping by and reading but I don't know who they you are.

***

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.

The Purple Panda

2009-05-07T15:01:00.002-04:00

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."

2009-05-07T00:34:00.000-04:00

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.

Just Hold On

2009-04-06T10:27:00.001-04:00

“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.

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

2009-04-02T12:58:00.002-04:00

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?"

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

2009-03-09T10:37:00.002-04:00

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"

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

2009-02-08T00:15:00.003-05:00

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.

Chicago

2009-02-01T15:21:00.002-05:00

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!

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found

2009-01-16T09:52:00.001-05:00

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.

New Year, Same Goals.

2009-01-06T19:55:00.002-05:00

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.

Heard This On The Radio... It Felt Appropriate.

2008-12-24T09:33:00.001-05:00

Snowy nights and Christmas lights,
Icy windowpanes,
Make me wish that we could be
Together again.
And the windy winter avenues
Just don't seem the same,
And the Christmas carols sound like blues,
But the choir is not to blame.

But it doesn't have to be that way.
What we had should never have ended.
I'll be dropping by today.
We could easily get it together tonight.
It's only right.

Crowded stores, the corner Santa Claus,
Tinseled afternoons,
And the sidewalk bands play their songs
Slightly out of tune.
Down the windy winter avenues
There walks a lonely man,
And if I told you who he is,
Well I think you'd understand.

But it doesn't have to be that way.
What we had should never have ended.
I'll be dropping by today.
We could easily get it together tonight.
It's only right.

No, it doesn't have to be that way.
What we had should never have ended.
I'll be dropping by today.
We could easily get it together tonight.
It's only right.

Christmas: Part II. The Not So Merry Side

2008-12-22T20:38:00.003-05:00

When someone loves you, and you love them... sometimes, it feels like fresh air. Like you never had a chance to breathe before. And sometimes, when that person you love has things bigger than them, they have to stop loving you. At that point, you can't fix it. You can't do anything to get the love back, they totally detach in a matter of hours... days... not even a week.

When that person breaks the news, the other doesn't see it coming. Which is the bad part. And they're crushed and feel like they can't breathe anymore. That's the worse part. And then they feel selfish because as much as they HATE everything the break brings... it makes sense. It has to be that way. This is not the biggest thing in their life... but it's the biggest thing in yours. So you're a mess, and they aren't.

But they have bigger things. This is tiny. So you should get over it...

Easier said than done. But, at least you understand it. Even if you never had a chance to start.

Good things last the shortest amount of time.

All The Way Home I'll Be Warm!

2008-12-18T12:21:00.002-05:00

"In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it 'Christmas' and went to church; the Jews called it 'Hanukkah' and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say 'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy Hanukkah!' or (to the atheists) 'Look out for the wall!'" -- Dave Barry

Let It Snow is my favorite carol to sing. O Holy Night is my favorite all time Christmas carol. These are all good things. I'm a big fan of Christmas. We're going to spend time with the extended family next week, I'll get to visit Brendan, and all will be well. I have a bit of shopping to do yet, though. Not a ton, but a little. I'll get to see some of the girls for laser tag before I leave, and that'll be fun. Fingers crossed.

It's funny how easy it is to miss someone. Especially around holiday time.

Being home is good in small doses, something Ryan and I figured out about three days ago. We went to the South Side and grabbed dinner. And he taught me that when in Pittsburgh, whatever you do "Don't go to Edna." Sarah McP helped us figure out what we wanted to do around the 'Burgh, bless her heart. She's a guru, and I love her for that. I texted him a reminder of this learned lesson as I headed into Oakland to use Hillman Library today for various graduate school and recreational uses. His response was "Amen, sister! Don't even think about it." Apparently for his senior project next fall, he's having a Ryan Show which will be awesome. Go him. Speaking of senior projects: when will Dr. Eatman get back to me on that, eh? Perhaps a well-placed reminder email is in order. If next semester doesn't kill me, I'll be graduating. Heaven help me.

Oh! P.S.! Totally in the play "Almost, Maine" and I'm super excited to say that I'm re-uniting the Team Theatre Kids duo with John to be an unhappily married couple. Head shots after I get home, that's a tid bit nerve wracking. But not as much as the insane and intense amount of work I have to do to get graduate school applications in. Yikes.

Went to Reconciliation at church on Monday night. It was the weirdest/best I've had in a while. I knew the priest was going to be sweet. First, his name is Father McCool, and second he's straight from Ireland. All good things. So I say 'here's my sins! I'm a dipshit!' and he literally said 'It's not the end of the world'. No lecture, no 'cut that out', no nothing. I like that. Too bad a lot of the time it's all 'Jesus loves you but if you don't stop you're probably going to burn'. Well, I'll just take the good, thank ya.

My mom just called and offered me free food at her Holiday Themes From Around The World office party. I had to hang print outs of the flags for every state in the USA and every territory in Canada on a Christmas Tree. Yes, you too can birth children and let them grow up to be your personal office assistants for times of good tidings and comfort and joy! :-P I'm not bitter, just annoyed that I had to tie flags to a tree for a Christmas party no one in her office was excited about. But! I got twenty bucks for having a cute face out of it (thanks mom) so I can't complaine.

Got all A's and a B+. I think I need to write Jim Moore about that B+. Because these are the last grades that go out to grad school, and it's only the second B+ in my whole major so - I'd like to see what I got on the final, etc. It'll drive me nuts otherwise, I did four extra credit assignments and worked way hard on my final project (if the morons who filmed each other impersonating Brittany Spears have an A, I'll be furious). Wait and see, I suppose.

I'm not actually saying that much here. Let's see: Graduate school, stressful but good if accomplished. Christmas, very good. Friends and love, also good. Family, good in small doses. Reading! Oh am I reading. I'm taking books galore out of the library and just devouring them. It's an addiction, but I don't think I'll be recovering anytime soon.

So, this is Christmas.

Happy happy whatever you celebrate, friends!

You Keep The Air In My Lungs, Floating Along As A Melody Comes

2008-11-25T15:14:00.002-05:00

T-minus one hour until my Thanksgiving break starts. It's going to be busy. I have to:

Get graduate school applications in (I just printed out about thirty different articles on writing personal statements)

Start on three assignments for classes (write a paper about Moses, write a paper about Hamlet, create a portfolio for now and five years from now so that you know where you're going with your life as far as your profession goes)

Make sure I'm solid on my acting class scene (Spoils of War, I'm playing Elise and she's almost like the character Mame if Mame was a mom and slept around)

Convince my mom to take me shopping on Black Friday to get an external hard drive because Beatrice (my laptop) is slowly and painfully dying. Recently she's taken to making a noise as though she wants to fly off of my desk and refuses to load internet pages quickly. These two things in combinations with a nasty Trojan virus and vanishing files reappearing in odd places makes me a little worrisome. Thus! External Hard Drive to back up all my important things.

Did I mention graduate school applications?

Read through the twenty-five (no joke) plays I borrowed from Dr. Eatman and find monologues to use as potential audition materials for graduate school

Read aloud the two plays UPJ theatre is performing in the spring and practice how I would play each part, since the auditions are cold readings and I want to be super prepared because it may be my last show at UPJ. Ever. Yeesh!

Spend time with my family, maybe go on a date, spend time with my friends maybe, and do laundry. That's my Thanksgiving in a nutshell.

Thanksgiving will be one month of dating Brendan. We keep looking at each other saying "This has to be a dream." He makes me happy and he says I do the same for him which is thrilling. Simple and sweet is how this is going and I like it a lot. He is SO supportive. I was filling out an application to Brown for graduate school online last night (it's a MEGA 'reach' school, I'd be delusional to think I have a shot at getting in but I have to try) and he was doing Quantum Physics homework (yes, seriously). He was really positive and proud of me... how refreshing. Meantime he's going to be doing all this really cool engineering stuff. I don't exactly know how any of it works, but he likes it and may be able to relate it to sound and music which is bueno!

Also, he had me come to a Physics Club demonstration (he's el presidente) where his professor who has been on all of these tours and tv shows (Jay Leno and he are buddies apparently) does cool science tricks. Check it out here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Willey

I can't imagine having a Wikipedia page about me. Cool, though.

Aaaaaaaaaaand I'm off to be a writing tutor before packing and heading homeward! Have a happy and safe Thanksgiving everybody!

You Better Look At What You Got. Over Here, Hello!?

2008-10-17T16:20:00.003-04:00

Merrily We Roll Along is quickly drawing to a close. I've learned a lot about myself and about my acting style. I still have a long way to go, though. Weekend two started yesterday. It was hard going back into it cold, I wish we had gone through it once on Wednesday when we took production photos.

In the dressing room people were talking about Tramp Stamps. Let's just say I'm not pleased that people think my three inch long, one inch wide (don't make this a 'That's what she said" moment, har har... *eye roll*) tattoo is a tramp stamp. It's a pretty derogatory term, all things considered. Yes, I did get it on my lower back. But did you ever think that it has personal meaning or sentiment to me? Or that you'd really piss me off and make me feel self-conscious when you tell me that's what my tattoo is? Because basically you're calling me a whore. Which, NEWS FLASH - I'm not.

People who read this are going to think a few different things, depending on who they are.
1. "She's self conscious because she IS a tramp."
2. "She's high and mighty."
3. "Shut up and stop complaining."
4. "I never thought of that... okay, I'm sorry. I'll think more carefully."

I really feel bad about myself, even 15 hours after the conversation. I'll get over it, I'll be proud of who I am and so on - in a few days. But for this moment: Displeased. the worst thing of all, is that these were my friends talking. Not just some random people.

I totally lost my technique for singing 'Now You Know', and the second we ran through it I recognized that. Of course, then, the whole first act I was freaking out about it. Not so much walking around going 'OH MY GOSH I'M GOING TO SUCK!' Just, running through it over and over in my mind. Right before the scene where the song comes, I walked up to Tony (who plays Charlie and is on two antibiotics as well as a steroid for a severe case of strep throat: he's not to go to classes again until Monday and was lucky the hospital let him out.).

"I'm really nervous about 'Now You Know'. I don't have it."

He looked me straight in the eye and said the nicest thing another actor has probably ever said to me, and the best advice as well.

"Don't be nervous. When you get nervous, you clench your hands and you tense up on stage, I've watched you do it. Relax.

"Now, you want to know the secret to not being nervous? I'm not nervous because I have her, and him, and her, and her..."

He pointed to our fellow cast members, the crew running around helping props get into place and costumes go on smoothly

"...And all of these people to thank for it. Because of them, we're here. You are good enough to be a principle. And you are good enough NOT to be nervous."

Holy motivational speech! I was ready to cry at that point, he was being so nice. Did I mess up the song? Eh, I've done it better but it didn't sound bad, per say. I'll re-practice today before the cast gets in, and do better tonight.

***

In other news...The Philly's won the World Series! Pretty much fantastic. Michael was there with my uncle and I'm guessing he'll have that memory for the rest of his life. I remember being able to stay up late watching games that went into extra innings.

Merrily We Roll Along

2008-10-01T10:00:00.000-04:00

I wanted to let you know about a musical that the University of Pittsburgh at Johnstown is putting on next month. It's a charming musical called 'Merrily We Roll Along', and the summary is below. I am playing the character Mary Flynn - a quick witted, passionate lady who wrote a best selling novel, and is friends with two young dreamers who grow to be successful (Franklin Shepard and Charles Kringas).

Tickets are only $17, and the performances are October 23rd through November 2nd! Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm (doors open at 7:30pm), and Sundays at 2pm (doors open at 1:30pm). Here's a link for information on ordering tickets: http://www.upj.pitt.edu/11149/

A story of dreams ingeniously told backwards, Merrily We Roll Along traces the career climb of three young artists to the tune of one of Sondheim's best, brightest, and brassiest scores! Join Franklin Shepard, a one-time composer of Broadway musicals who has become a highly successful but cynical and jaded film producer, as he discovers how he became the man he is today. Includes hits such as "Not a Day Goes By," "Good Thing Going," and "The Our Time."

Again, for reference, here's the schedule:

8:00 p.m., Thursday, October 23, 2008

8:00 p.m., Friday, October 24, 2008

8:00 p.m., Saturday, October 25, 2008

2:00 p.m., Sunday, October 26, 2008

----------------------------------------------

8:00 p.m., Thursday, October 30, 2008

8:00 p.m., Friday, October 31, 2008

8:00 p.m., Saturday, November 1, 2008

2:00 p.m., Sunday, November 2, 2008

Regular $17 Discount $15 Student $10

Call (814) 269-7200 for tickets! They're selling fast!

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Please pass this information along to anyone who may be interested in coming to see the show!

It's Called Letting Go of Your Illusions, And Don't Confuse Them With Dreams.

2008-09-10T21:24:00.002-04:00

I hurt my knee the previous weekend helping out with the big Freshman Move-In university organized chaos. If I put a pre-formed, Velcro ace bandage that's black with a white medical name printed on it... it'll get better in a few days. I can walk it off. I wear it to dance for musical auditions, just to show them that I'm not really as inept as I seem (okay, maybe I am) but that I am injured. But only slightly. Nothing to worry about. I pull the awful, ugly knee brace off of my leg for the evening, though. Just in case this *is* a date. I don't think it is, though.

...

Standing outside the Student Union, I try not to look as though I picked my outfit too carefully. My makeup is only impressive enough to be striking in the right moment, not over-done. He said his friends were coming with us from his high school. He's just being nice. It's my only chance to go to the Folk Festival and Ethnic Festival that I've attended the past two years. I leave to visit out-of-town family in the morning. I realize that each time I've gone, it's been because I've recently broken up with a dear love who was causing hurt or ... who I was hurting. I remind myself not to think about it.

He pulls up, late. By this time, I've pick a fresh flower off of the bush beside me and tuck it behind my ear. My perfectly straightened hair stays in place. Open the door, get in the car... his family has a booth at the Ethnic Festival for roasted cashews covered in sweet sugar and cinnamon. He hands me a small package of them, wrapped in blue paper. They're better than candy, and I eat them quickly. I didn't realize I was hungry. We talk about family and he's more candid than I am. I don't know why he is being so charming and open, since we hated each other for a straight year. The summer made it dissipate, I think. I'm comfortable and trusting. Maybe it's a lure into a false sense of security.

He explains what Slovakian and Polish food is, with the funny names like "Halušky" and "Chrusty" for dessert. Over a plate of delicious and strange food (being Italian, I don't really know why you'd put cabbage in anything), we talk about holidays. How important family is and how few of our friends understand the connection to heritage and faith. We're not as staunch as our grandparents and not as loose as the 'reality' t.v. representations of our generation. We walk around listening to a terrible cover band, laughing and waving to friends from school, and shouting over the noise to be heard.

Down a quiet alley there is a polka band. I remember watching my "parents" in a not so recent show learning to polka to a song that played on the "radio". He mentions my knee, and not wanting to hurt it by trying to dance. But, if I really want to, he'll show me. He loves to polka. I tell him I could learn how to polka, though I really do have two left feet. His neighbors are there and soon we're going through the typical introductions. It's awkward. They think I'm his girlfriend. I briefly remember his high school friends were supposed to meet him here, but I don't really care. I'm having fun, which is surprising. I couldn't stand sitting across from him for more than five seconds in directors meetings, let alone even imagine going out with him socially. I decide not to ask where his friends are. I blush and look away when one of his neighbors mentions how cute we are as a couple. I hope I don't look as pleased as I feel in that brief moment.

Wait. I haven't though about being a couple with anyone but my ex for months and months.

The band starts. He takes me in his arms, which are much more gentle than I expect, and softly talks me through the simple three-step movements. I can't stop smiling, and subtly push myself closer to him as we dance. His arm wraps around my waist a bit tighter. I'm spinning. All i can see are the low-hanging outdoor bulbs, floating like tiny moons that glow a marigold yellow. Older couples are dancing around us, or watching us from picnic tables with reminiscent smiles. I like being the one that makes them remember. The air smells of something sweet and fried. We hold on for as long as we can after the music ends, and I'm breathless. My knee is also throbbing, but I tell myself it isn't.

I want to keep this moment for a long time.

...

Two weeks later. The ER has me on crutches, he begs me to allow him the "privilege" (oh please!) of driving me places. We decide we're "dating". I can handle "dating." I'm dating? So soon? Or maybe, as my closest friends whisper to each other, it's long over-due. It still feels too soon. But when one of the two moves on, the other should, too. Or at least attempt. I'm trying.

It's nice not to have to hop everywhere on one leg.

I get my license. He gets a supporting role but tells me that my part is better. My part is better and it doesn't matter. I get behind in school work. He has a cold. I make him dinner and bring him thermaflu tea. We have a fight. Our first fight. It won't always be the 'honeymoon' stage, right? Is it really a first fight if we did nothing but jump down each other's throats in core theatre classes for a year?

It's two am, and we fall asleep working on an acting scene. It's innocent, but I know my roommates don't think so. They assume I go over his house to have wild sex, we couldn't possibly be working on something as simple as homework. It's not like his father and brother live there, too. We fall asleep through the disagreement and things aren't even close to being resolved. What were we fighting about, anyway? I looked around, and hear a clock upstairs chiming the hour. He's in the kitchen eating Rasin Bran cereal. I sit down across from him.

"Can we talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You know I'm on your side, right? That I'm not trying to be hurtful?"

"I don't know."

In the slight pause, my heart sinks. This isn't a good idea, it's too soon. I'm not ready. I can't handle the fighting. And I am trying so hard with this one.

"Okay."

With that one word, I try to tell him everything that I want to open for discussion. And that he made my heart sink a little with those three little words that doubt my every effort and intention. I walk back to the couch, and lie down. He doesn't come back into the room for a long time.

Drive Until You Lose the Road (or break with the ones you've followed)

2008-08-17T12:30:00.003-04:00

The bus hits another pothole. I check my phone and see I missed a call from my grandmother. I forgot to call her in the morning, as I usually do. Oh boy. Pull off my headphones, pause the IPod, retrieve the message.

Her voice mail is the typical "Hi, I guess you're busy and you didn't call me, it's okay, don't call back..." She's worried, and disappointed. I hit 're-dial' and confirm that I didn't die in a ditch somewhere, I just ran late today. I wasn't avoiding talking to her, send love to Pop-Pop. I hang up in time to catch my stop before the driver pulls out. "Pay attention next time, lady." I almost miss my stop every day. And he tells me to pay attention three times a week.

Plugging my ear buds back into my head, I let music wash over me for the block and a half walk I take to the office. Bopping along, down the hill, across the street, taking refuge in the notes for another minute, just one more...

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman of indeterminate age. Tear-stained face, tattered slacks, a heavy sweater wrapped around her frail body, matted hair that was curly and vivacious once... She's waving at me. About a foot away from my face. Oh boy.

I take out the headphones. I know it's a mistake the second I make eye contact. My heart sinks, I should have kept walking, maybe I still can...

"Ma'am. Please, do you have three dollars and sixty cents so I can get on the bus to pick up my two children from daycare?"

Sobs wreck her body. I don't know how much it costs to take the bus, my university distributed identification card gives me free rides. Tears and children, my weaknesses. I can't say no. "It's okay," I tell her. "Here, one second..." I root through my purse, which seems to suddenly hold objects I didn't know exist, digging deeper at an awkward angle as she cries. "Did you call the daycare and tell them you're running late?" I would have forgotten to do that, if I was as upset as she was. She nods and sniffles. As I continue to fumble awkwardly with my belongings, she tells me of a rape, the loss of a baby because of it, the forty-eight stitches in her stomach...

I'm ready to cry at this point. No one deserves that kind of pain.

I find my tips from waitress-ing, and pull out a five dollar bill. "Here, this should cover it." She nods again, and takes it a little too quickly from my hand. Inside my head I hear my ex-boyfriend's voice telling me I'm naive, weak, immature. That a mature woman would have just kept walking. I ignore it, telling myself that I have done the right, compassionate thing and that makes it better.

I begin to walk away, and yet I know she saw that I had more than just five dollars on me. "Do you have two more dollars so I can buy my kids some lunch meat for dinner on the way home? They're starving, they don't get enough to eat..."

Something in me draws a line. You saw it coming, I tell myself. "I'm sorry, no. I don't."

"Please! Just two dollars!" She is pleading and her (well rehearsed?) tears reform.

I cave into the cynicism. "I'm so sorry. But good luck."

I walk away... if she needed two dollars, she had it. I gave her five, and she said the bus only cost three something. I tried to soothe my conscience with that as I put my IPod away. My mind is firing off three hundred thoughts in all different directions.

I remembered a girl at a monthly workshop for theatre I went to in high school. She gave a man fifty cents for the bus when we were walking to lunch. I asked her how she knew he wouldn't just save it and spend it on drugs. She didn't even hesitate. "That's what you trust in God for." I was floored by that response five years ago. And suddenly, those were the words resonating in my mind as I climbed my office building's stairs.

I hope that woman caught the bus without any other problems. And that the kids ate sandwiches for dinner.

Feed Your Head

2008-07-30T09:33:00.003-04:00

A newfound aquaintance told me about her belief in making her own happiness.

I am trying it. And so far, it's working out alright. Think positive ("Write it in purple ink!").

It's keeping me a little bit more calm, and a little bit more on the 'bright' side of things.

I can't please everyone, and I am not going to make myself crazy trying. I will be who I am, know my faults and weaknesses, but not let others force change upon me when I like (generally) who I am.

I'm feeding my head. I'm finding my soul.

I'm Trying To Make It.

2008-07-11T17:16:00.002-04:00

I am a pilgrim, a pilgrim of sorrow
Tossed in this wide world
This wide world alone
Ain’t got no hope in
This world for tomorrow
Trying to make
Heaven my home

You know sometimes,
I get a little troubled
I get a little tormented and worried, lord Jesus
By all of my so called friends,
all of my so called friends
Who just won’t, who just won’t leave me alone
But I’m gonna keep on tryin’ and keep on prayin’
That one day it’ll all be over
‘Cause Lord,
I’m trying to make it
I wanna make heaven my home

Sometimes I’m tossed
Sometimes I’m tossed and driven Lord
And just don’t know, said just don’t know
Well don’t know which way to turn

I am a pilgrim, a pilgrim of sorrow
Tossed in this wide world
This wide world alone
Ain’t got no hope in
This world for tomorrow
Trying to make
Heaven my home

Oh I heard of a city
Of a city
Called Heaven.
I'm trying to make it.
Make heaven my home.

Scriptural Reference:
"Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage." Psalm 84:5"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth." Hebrews 11:13

I think this is the most beautiful song to listen to when you just want to cry into your pillow.

God is Love. Love is Blind. Ray Charles is Blind. Ray Charles is God.

2008-06-26T15:46:00.003-04:00

Whatif by Shel Silverstein

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

I read this poem in sixth grade. And I guess I remember it because I DO that a lot. I turn everyday things into daydreams of superheroes, villains, and situational comedies that only happen in movies.

A week or two ago, I was in Oakland. I decided to take a bus to Liberty Avenue and fill out an application at the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust. Why wouldn’t I just call the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust and ask them to fax or email me the application? Well, I did, actually. “Oh we don’t do that. We don’t allow applications to leave the premises.” Excuse me. La tee dah, I didn’t realize I was dealing with people so much more educated and cultured than myself. What was a disgusting cretin like me thinking? I decided not to be off-putted by their rather rude phone receptionist. After filling out the application, finding a bus home was more than daunting, considering I’m a suburbia dweller typically.

I decided to be bold and… call my mom. “Institution for Clinical Research Education, this is Lorraine.” Mom. “What?” I’m lost. “Okay, well where are you?” I just walked out of the Cultural Trust….erm, 820 Liberty Avenue. “Well, walk around and look for a bus stop that has the 500C on it.” There’s only the 300B at this one. “Okay, where are you again?” After talking in circles like this, for a while, I was thoroughly frustrated and pissed off at the public transportation system. I finally found the 74 C, about two blocks from where I began my search – even if I had been walking for half of an hour with my backpack filled with an overweight laptop. It felt worse than it was, considering I couldn’t find my way. Being lost and overheated with 20 lbs on your back causes my temper to flair.

As I approached the stop I noticed a beautiful woman was reading the blue and white BUS STOP sign. Her skin was the color of coffee mixed with cream (name that musical reference and I’ll give you a dollar!), and her head was safely enfolded in a tan cotton scarf. The flowers on her ankle length skirt matched the scarf surprising perfection. I hung up my phone with a sharp, irritated snap after curtly telling Lorri that I had found a bus stop that was of use to me….

The rest of this post was going to be about the woman talking to me (she really did) and getting on the same bus as I had. Then I was going to say things about a group of wiggers getting on and harassing her (they really didn’t) and my standing up for her. The what-if situation I daydreamed while riding the bus back to Oakland uneventfully. But I just finished writing a ‘letter’ to my best friend and it emotionally drained me of being able to write creatively.

I’m emotionally drained in general right now. I’m happy to say that I was offered and am taking an internship with the Pittsburgh International Children’s Theatre, for the summer. And that someone who I love is talking to me again… after I thought they never would. God is good. I also reconnected with two friends who were a major support system for me a few years ago, but I fell out of touch with after I started college. That is also a good thing. These are facts that make me feel hopeful, and like this world may be getting brighter.

I’m sad to announce the breaking off of my relationship with Danny. If you want to know the long story, contact me privately. Otherwise, you’ll get the short “The distance wasn’t working out” answer. I’m not one to advertise personal pain or exploit someone else’s. I don’t want to make him the enemy. And he’s not.

I’m up and down and running in circles. But that’s alright. Life is basically screaming at me “THIS IS WHAT IT’S ABOUT! SUCK IT UP FOR THE BAD PARTS AND BE HAPPY FOR THE GOOD PARTS!”

My friend recommended this book series to me: "The Griffin and Sabine Trilogy". If you like Post Secret, you might like this... It's the story of two people who live in totally different parts of the world. And they begin a very strange correspondence through postcards and letters. You actually see both sides of each post card, open envelopes, and pull out the letters... it's very awesome. The artwork is phenomenal as is the story. It's the first thing that has restored even come close to restoring my faith in true romance and love since the breakup.

Yooooooooooooooooooooooou should read it. :)

An excerpt from Smack by Melvin Burgess

2008-05-20T06:42:00.000-04:00

LILY pages 171 - 175

You get under my skin but I

don't find it irr-i-tating

You always play to win but I

won't need reha-bil-i-tating

Oh no

I think I'm on a-nother world

with you... with you

I'm on another planet with

you... with you-oo

Another girl

Another planet

Another girl another planet

THE ONLY ONES

Everything is free. That's a secret.

The only thing that isn't free is you. You do as you're told: you sit in your seat until they say, "Stand." You stay put til they say, "Go."

Maybe that's the way you like it. It's easy. It's all there. You don't have to think about it. You don't even have to feel it.

I sometimes wonder how this planet keeps on sticking to my feet. They did everything they could to pin me down... my mum, my dad, school. They put me in homes with kind guys and they put me in homes with bastards. They did things to me you can't even talk about. I'm okay.

What about you?

It's mind control, see. You have to go to school, get those exams, get to university or college, get a job, get married, don't miss the boat, do it now or you'll shot your life down the drain. Yeah. They got you as soon as you were born. They never risked a second of your life. When you have kids they'll be telling them they have to wear a plastic mask and put a penny in the slot above their nose before they can breath in.

Listen: Auntie Lily knows the way it really is.

Air is free. What, you know that? Good for you. Okay. Food is free. Ah, you didn't know that one! Listen, this is how you do it.

First you gotta find the FreeFood shop. You go out of your front door and you walk down the road. Sooner or later you come to the FreeFood shop. You can't miss it. It might be called Sainsbury's or Tesco or Morrison's if it's a big FreeFod shop. It might be called Smith's or School's or Singh's if it's a little one. It doesn't matter what it's called. the food's piled up everywhere -- on shelves, in great heaps and stacks on the floor, in boxes and bags and bins. You want it, you name it -- it's yours.

You go inside. You have a look around and see what food you want. You put the food you want under your coat or in your shopping bag and then you take it home and eat it.

Yeah. I expect you thought that you had to go to school, get educated, learn a job, do the job, get paid, take the money down the shop, give people the money before you could take the food home, huh?

You listen to other people too much.

Once you know how to do it, you look about and you'll see FreeFood shops all over the place. The only thing you've got to worry about is that there's usually someone about who thinks the food belongs to them, so you have to make sure you're invisible.

That's easy, too. Because you can be anything you want to be. It's a big secret. You're magic! You're terrific. you're anything you wanna be. Believe it!

Liberate the food! Yeah!

If one of those people who thinks the food is theirs catches you, it's no use arguing; they're too far gone. You better leg it instead. And once in a while -- maybe your aura has got a few holes in it today -- you may get caught. Then you get the police and you go to court. If you have money, they'll fine you. If you have no money, you'll get Community Service. that's okay. It needn't happen often. I know people who've never been caught in years. All that stuff about going in and out of prison, that's just another form of mind control. But even if you do get caught, I'll tell you... Community Service is maybe forty or a hundred hours. what's the alternative? Going out to work every day for the rest of your life? I mean, what kind of sentence is that?

Sometimes I look out the window and I see all the straights crawling past, going to work, coming back from work, going to learn how to go to work, whatever. and I want to shout out, "Hey! Listen to me! It isn't like that, it really isn't like that..."

Only I never do. It's useless. They must weigh about sixty thousand tons. I'm so far away from people like that, they can't even see me.

Do you want to know more? Listen, I'll tell everything.

You can do anything you want.

You don't believe me. You think, she's out of her head. Yeah, I'm out of my head -- on being me. What are you on? On being them. You don't even know. I bet you were never even given a chance to know.

Remember when you were little and they used to say, "Naughty girl, naughty boy," because you broke something or said the wrong thing? They told you, "You are a bad person."

But it wasn't like that, it was just you were doing a bad thing. It wasn't you who was bad. You're beautiful. You're wonderful and everything that you do is wonderful because it's you doing it. You're that strong. You can do it bad and know it bad or you can do it good and know it good but it doesn't do anything to you. You're still you.

Listen. You can be anything you want to be. Be careful. It's a spell. It's magic. Listen to the words. You can be anything, you can do anything, you can be anything, you can do anything. Listen to the magic.

You are anything... everyone, anyone. Whatever you want. I'm showing you. So long as you stay yourself inside, you can eat dirt and it'll taste good because it's you that's eating it. You can even lick their arses if you have to. You listen to them, teachers, parents, politicians. They're always saying, if you steal you're a thief, if you sleep around you're a slut, if you take drugs you're a junkie. They want to get inside your head and control you with their fear.

Maybe you think your mum and dad love you but if you do the wrong things they'll try and turn you into dirt, just like mine tried to turn me into dirt. It's your punishment for being you. Don't play their game. Nothing can touch you; you stay beautiful.

I've done everything. all of it. You think, I've done it. All the things you never dared, all the things you dream about, all the things you were curious about and then forgot because you knew you never would. I did'em. I did'em yesterday while you were still in bed.

What about you? When's it gonna be your turn?

***************************************************************************************

I just finished re-reading Smack, it's a fantastic book. British punk 80's drug slum stories. I may or may not use some of that excerpt as a monologue sometime. I can't sleep right now, but maybe I won't go back to sleep.

That wasn't all a commentary on things going on with my life. Just a little bit of it.

I'm going home June 4th. Mom's happy, I think... I'm not, but things aren't about me, I guess.

Now until June 4th: Long island.

June 4th until June 23rd: Home.

June 23rd until August 11th: Working at CTY.

August 11th until August 24th-ish?: Home again.

Ready, steady, go. Go... go... go.

Action Jesus

2008-04-16T16:12:00.002-04:00

A lot has happened around here. I can't even think of where to begin. Oh! Yes I can!

Danny came to visit me, and then we went to Long Island to see 'our' (his) apartment, go to the beach, shop at a huge outlet mall called Tanger, eat in diners, watch Bambi, and so forth. While he was here we took pictures on the Mountain Cat (no, we didn't pee on it), have 'air' contests, hunt ghosts, go for drives when one of us (me) couldn't fall asleep, and have Chaser's dates.

During the time that Danny was here, Golgonooza finished! And let me just say, PRAISE the gods of theatre. Things came together, as I knew they would - but... yeesh it was a crazy mess getting to that point. My cast was phenomenal, though.

I was asked to perform for elementary school students by Sylvan Learning Center for the second time. Curtis and I will be going tomorrow afternoon to reenact Green Eggs and Ham for hundreds of little first graders. I love doing Children's Theatre, it'll be a great time. "I will NOT eat green eggs and ham! I will not eat them Sam I am!" The eggs are from Easter and they came with Silly Putty in them that's green, all of the kids like coming up to touch it.

I went to Walmart the other night with Mike, Kate, and Ken to find the most glorious toy on the planet. For three dollars, I got a fully pose-able, cross eyed, white, English speaking, scripture quoting Jesus action figure. I'm not kidding you. I saw online that the thing sells for $19.99, but this one is taped into it's box, so I think I got one that was returned. I'm okay with that, Jesus still works. It's one of those toys given to children by the cult-Christian parents (read: Yearn For Zion Polygamy Child Abuse Very Small Branched Off Sect of Mormon's Ranch in Texas). If I was ever handed something like this as a child I would probably have ripped it's head off while at day camp (like I did with most of my Barbie's. What? As long as I put them back on before Mom or Dad picked me up, it was alright. It's not like I rip off real girl's heads now. Well, not literally).

Here is the glorious action figure/doll/salvation giver:

Yup. That right there is my Lord and Savior at his... not so finest. I don't think Jesus ever intended to be turned into plastic, shoved in a box, and have a button in the back of him to be pushed so he could spout scripture off on demand.

But what do I know?

That being the highlight of my month, I haven't much more to say.

Finals. Finals. Finals. Finals week starts soon. Then home. Then to the Center for Talented Youth hosted by an array of colleges across the country, founded by John Hopkins. I get to be an A.C./R.D. combined for these crazy child prodigies. Good times. I think I'll leave Action Jesus at home for that adventure. He's too much for me to handle some times, let alone the children.

Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T13:57:00.003-04:00

I'll Keep My Head Down And My Chin Up...

2008-03-17T11:56:00.003-04:00

Spring break was a good time. Saw a special guy I know and love. He really means a lot to me. Makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me dizzy with happiness, writes me love notes, make inside jokes with me which could be taken so many wrong ways... ("Excuse me, where can I find the SEX CANDLES?", "Hey you two - this is a public place!", "I love you MOST EASTER!", "We don't have very good luck with the eatable stuff, do we?" :-P)

I'm not sure who reads this, so that's all I'll say on that subject. But I love Danny. Did I mention that?

Back to the grind of things today. Golgonooza is soon, and I'm excited but nervous about it coming together. It always does, though. Somehow. There is so much to do, but I guess there's a certain trust that comes with being a part of any production that everyone will just do their part and you'll do yours and vola! Theatre magic makes it possible.

I still haven't heard back from any of the summer internships or apprenticeships I've applied to. The first one I put my application into is the one I'm most hoping to be accepted to. The Williamstown Theatre Festival apprenticeship for actors. Check this out:

"An apprentice’s theatrical experience is not built on performance opportunities alone. Apprentices work on a number of crews and positions throughout the summer that make the season possible, including building sets, hanging lights, assisting the marketing department, greeting audiences, and providing vital support to the many and varied needs of the Festival on a daily basis. In short, and with no understatement, apprentices are the lifeblood of the Williamstown Theatre Festival; it would be impossible to do what we do without them. Apprentices also take part in a unique classroom-learning experience, consisting of approximately two to four classes a week. Resident artists teach a wide variety of classes across many disciplines, and master classes with world-renowned visiting artists are scheduled throughout the summer. Apprentices will interact with, observe, and ultimately learn from many of the established artists who visit the Festival each season. "

I worked the hardest on that application (and on even being 'allowed' by my mom to apply). Also, it costs money to participate in the program so I created a very lengthy personal statement of financial need.

I also have an application in to North Western's National High School Institute summer program. I've applied to be an assistant faculty member for the theatre arts area of the program. It's like a pre-college thing for high schoolers who are interested in all different fields.

"The faculty of the Theatre Arts Division is composed of award-winning educators, performers, designers, directors, and choreographers from theatres and universities throughout the country. (for undergraduates interested in theatre, teaching, internship). All Faculty Associates are required to life in the dormitory and serve as dorm counselors for which they recieve room and board and stipend."

All I have to say is: HECK YES! I'd love to.

Lastly, I have an application into the Center for Talented Youth with John Hopkin's.

"At CTY you will work with an exceptional group of students, make contacts and friendships with dynamic colleagues, and gain valuable experience in a rigorous academic community. CTY has consistently been named as one of the top internships in leading publications. We have a network of past employees now working in positions ranging from heads of school to deans of students to university professors."

Again, a great opportunity for the summer.

It's just hard to wait. If I don't hear back by April 1st, I'm calling at least the first two places to see what my application's standing is.... It'd be nice to know what I'm doing with my summer, though.

Okay! I have to go call a man about a bedroom set for the stage, write sound and lighting cues, figure out my schedule for next semester, wait to hear back from three different apprenticeship/internship opportunities, get ready for Easter, start packing my room up so I don't have as much crap to take home as I did last year, aaaaaaaaand scene.

What Doesn't Kill You Hurts Like Hell...But It Doesn't Kill You.

2008-02-09T00:06:00.000-05:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

February 7 - Light Ahead

Trust and be not afraid. Life is full of wonder. Open child-trusting eyes to all I am doing for you. Fear not.

Only a few steps more and then My Power shall be seen and known. You are, yourselves, now walking in the tunnel-darkness. Soon, you yourselves shall be lights to guide feet that are afraid.

The cries of your sufferings have pierced even to the ears of God himself – My Father in Heaven, your Father in Heaven. To hear, with God, is to answer. For only a cry from the heart, a cry to Divine Power to help human weakness, a trusting cry, ever reaches the Ear Divine.

Remember, trembling heart, that with God, to hear is to answer. Your prayers, and they have been many, are answered.

"Before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These are good things to keep in mind. I need this Lent to get my religion back on track, you could say. I guess I'm not as 'grown' as I thought. In fact, I've reverted, but that can be good, in some ways. Maybe. It all depends on how you use what you're given. And I've been given a lot, and that's really a blessing. I am still quite blind, though. I need help seeing the obvious, finding the not so obvious and ... well, that's enough vagueness for one post.

Graduate school research is terrifying. I’m waiting to hear back on a REALLY big summer opportunity. Birthday in nineteen days and then I'll be a legal beagle. Yeah, I went there. >.>

Business all around my life! I was going to type out everything that I've been up to but I changed my mind because:

1. Everyone is busy.

2. As much as it drives me crazy, I enjoy it.

3. You're supposed to do things in secret, thus making the reward greater for the soul.

Illness has been abound, too - I'm afraid. It makes me sad. If I'm still feeling awful on Monday I'll need to call the doctor. For now, I'm seeing how well I can duke it out on my own. Bring it, disease!

In other news: new roommate, she's cool. We're pretty cool. We just let each other do our own thing, and such. I feel bad she has a hacking crazy girl with her. I hope I don't cause her to get sick, that would be rude of me, not to mention a lame time had by all. Bob Marley sheet + Postcards +Pretty (not real) Flowers) + Bible Quotes = Decoration Love. Not going to lie, our room is pretty sweet. It was really cool of her to move up here instead of making me go down there. I felt bad but.... well, it's done and there doesn't seem to be hard feelings. Yay!

Come and see South Pacific. Every inch is packed with dynamite. An, um, it's Main Stage. Which is fantastic. Probably the last one Doc E. directs, actually... Hmm. Disconcerting? Maybe a little but such is life.

So that's that and that'll be that, and that's the end of that.

I Don't Know What My Future Holds, But I Know Who Holds My Future.

2008-01-19T14:53:00.000-05:00

Two weeks into the semester, and already I am looking for the summer to come peaking behind the snowy cold. Although, when that happens, it will mean saying goodbye to the people that have mattered most to me the past three years. Not forever, but there you have it. It's happened my freshman year. There went people who inspired me, who influenced my art and my mind. And my sophomore year. There went the people with the motivation and talent. And it'll happen this year. Those with kindness, enthusiasm, humor, and grace. The next year, it'll be us. The ones who learned from all the others, and at least attempted such greatness.

It's a new year. I guess you could say it has started off very slowly. I don't have any idea what will happen to me in the next week. Or the next month. Or the one after it. And so forth. No one ever does, do they? I would like to have change in my life. The one I have been living isn't exactly up to par. It's not "doing it" for me, so to speak.

I get these inexplicable ideas in my head that just cannot be shaken. That I could only be in love with so-and-so. Or the only way I'll be happy is if such a thing occurs. It can't be healthy, that's for sure. It scares me, a little. I'm still waiting for things to go back to 'normal' and for whatever reason, I can't understand that this day in and day out is what normal will be until something else shifts. Either via my changing it, or it changing me.

It would be so easy to blame others. But, I don't like to make it easy.

So I'll just keep on keepin' on. Get up. Go to work. Go to class. And back to work. Work out. Go to rehearsal. Learn the steps. Memorize the lyrics. Remember why it's a way of life, instead of a career. Go to bed. Get up. Go to work. Go to class... and on weekends? Do homework. Find some times when friends are around, and go visit. Keep occupied. Work out some more. Pretend it isn't lonely to walk back to an empty room. Wake up, and do it again the next day.

Wash, rinse, repeat as necessary. Wash, rinse, repeat.

And a happy new year!

2007-12-21T23:53:00.001-05:00

Not much time to post, but I wanted to wish everyone a fantastic holiday!

Love peace and joy!

I Want This Gift

2007-11-25T12:23:00.000-05:00

I love my family. You all know this. I just came back from Thanksgiving and even though there were some rough spots (when aren't there?!), it was fantastic. They are so full of love and life and character, it makes the word 'family' shine.

My little brother. My best friend and worst enemy. But mostly my best friend. He and I have been through more together than anyone else has been through with me. And I've been through a lot of crap with a ton of people. I would be lost without him. He's really grown up to be a hilarious, quick, smart, sensitive guy. He tells Michael (the older of the two cousins on mom's side) that he loves him (he tells everyone that, but anywho). Like, I watched him say that to Michael yesterday morning and was just so amazed at how he could make those three words 'cool'. Michael will never think it's not a 'guy thing' to say that you love someone. I think that's incredible, and I bet Mark doesn't even know he has done that for Michael. Not to mention Mark and I had 'girl talk' at two in the morning watching 'Along Came Polly' and 'Blue Crush', that was fun. We talked about computer games and I was able to watch his multimedia project video, which was so impressive! It was all stop motion, and it's just like 'what happened to that pudgy little Buddha child I used to beat the living daylights out of?' Mark hugs me when I cry, and he does damage control with mom. I try to do the same for him. When I wasn't feeling well Thanksgiving morning, he totally took both kids and let me sleep in. Michael came down at 6am to pull off Mark's sock. I hear:

"Hey! Not my sock...aw, now my feet are cold."
*giggles*
Then, twenty minutes later he sits up and goes
"I found my sock."

It's some of that stupid stuff that is SO funny to us. We taught Michael and Michele the game "Guess What?" "What?" "Five minutes to get rid of it." That was, maybe a bad choice, in retrospect. We also played the game "You remind me of a man!" What man?" "The man with the power. " "What power?" "The power of voo-doo!" "Who do?" "You do!" "I do what?" "Remind me of a man!"" "What man?" "The man with the power...." and so on. Michael's a smart kid, he came down one morning and said that to us while we ere half asleep, and I said "What man?" Thinking it was cute he remembered that we talked about it the night before. He goes "Five minutes to get rid of it!" And runs away laughing his fool head off. Oh that child. So, that's my shpeal on the boys.

This Italian family of mine loves the sounds of Frank Sinatra. My Pop-Pop *is* better than Frank. Seriously. I may be bias,m but I don't give a damn. He sings so beautifully. And Frank has been his MAN since before I can remember. When I was little, and would play in a baby pool, Pop-Pop and Mom-Mom would sit out in the sun with their old silver portable radio, the antenna way up, and Frank would be blasting. My grandparents are So in love. They fight and pick at each other, but they love each other. When Pop-Pop does something and Mom-Mom goes 'Oh, I don't want to talk to you." He'll bat his eyes and try to give her a hug and say "I love ya sweetheart! Don't you love me, honey?" And she'll swat him with a dishtowel while she goes to get more dishes off the dinner table. It's just, stuff like that. He does the sweetest things for her, she does the cutest things for him. They are so loving. And generous! More than anyone. No one has a bad thing to say about them.

Thanksgiving night while we were doing dishes, the whole house was singing to Frank Sinatra. And the song "New York, New York" came on. Mom-Mom was sitting next to Michele and I and Pop-Pop was singing his heart out while people started to do the dishes. My mom said to him "Go dance with Mom(-Mom), Dad." And he told her "No, she don't want to dance." But he locked at her and she held her hands out, and everyone laughed. So, he went over and they danced and my little brother caught this on tape. You can hear Lydia (Mom-Mom) dancing a little, and see me in the background and Michele on the floor with this HUGE smile. Even at six years old she can tell what they have is special. Now, they're on You Tube. Everyone in the family thinks this is genius, that we put my grandparents on the internet. When they finished dancing (You can hear Poop-Pop starting to say "That's all, I gotta do the dishes" as he walks away), Michele looked up and said to me "That's just hysterical!" I looked at her and told her "Nah, it's just incredible." She didn't get it, but that's okay.

I guess the point is, when I'm eighty (do those two look eighty to you?), I want to be so in love, have such a wonderful family surrounding me, and still singing and dancing my heart out. That's a gift, you know? What those two have. And it's just amazing to me.

I can't figure out how to upload the video on here, so here's the link instead.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=eDhoTorigck

Gobble Gobble!

2007-11-20T08:41:00.000-05:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY!

Peace, Love, and Turkey!

Well If All You Want Is Honesty, That's All You Have To Say.

2007-11-07T18:11:00.000-05:00

Let's talk about some things that are, how you say: bugging me. Just a couple things, out of the many many choices, that are going through my mind.

And we can start with the theatre majors who are here and act as though they are above the program. You don't like the program, then just leave! You want a big part in the show, but you don't know anything about it, have never heard the music, never read the script, don't know who the characters are, and won't research? Do you think it'll just be handed to you on a silver platter? You have to work HARD if you even want to be CONSIDERED for a part that's bigger than ensemble. And hell, even if you do do all your research and audition with the perfect song, and/or monologue, you STILL may not get casted in a lead role because you're:too short, you're hair is too thick, too fat, too tall, too brunette, too broad-shouldered, too unique, too commercial, not what the director wants....whatever. Oh wait, what? You want to do film! You're such a conceded jerk. You have yet to prove you possess have any talent in front of a camera, or in front of an audience on stage. And you're almost done with school... so you're thinking about changing your major NOW?! I mean, don't get me wrong, I hope you do switch to something else, because you're an awful representation of the theatre department and you would be much better suited to be in with the other Poly Sci majors that you so revere, because they have some argumentative tendencies to rival yours. However, with the rate you're going, even they will throw up their hands in frustration, roll their eyes, and exasperate a pinched voice: "Whatever you say, you obviously know so much more about it than I do." Because you are the spoiled, childish, stuck-up person who has to have his way every $*%&@*! time. Why is it that you're never wrong? I wish I could always be right, like you! Maybe it's something aspire to, i'll work really hard towards that: when i grow up, I'll be just. Like. You. Yeah, right. I'd rather slide down a giant razor blade into a pool of alcohol. Oh! And lastly, let me tell you that being a homophobic does NOT work well if you are interested in theatre, film, or any other form of art - and being a part of it. You want to be in theatre? GET OVER IT! Being a racist won't help you much in those areas, either. Actually, it wouldn't help you much anyplace.
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ONE WEEK LATER: Nov. 14th - an addition to this theatre thing:

"death by theatre major" is my favorite ice cream flavor!

I loathe these junior high drama addicts, these friend-stealing, back-stabbing, heart-breaking people.

I loathe this department and its pre-casting, babying, favoring professors.

I loathe those disrespecting, unfeeling, gut-wrenching, unprofessional cretins walking around this God-forsaken scum of the earth campus.

And I loathe my addiction to this painful, anxiety ridden, wonderful, life-giving drug that I have been so willfully pushed, pulled, sucked down, slammed into taking inside of me - shooting, snorting, popping, and smoking every hour of my life from the time I was ten years old until this very moment...

I don't know if I should laugh or cry.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let's move on, shall we? Lovely! (Nota Bene: This is about more than one person. Let's see if you smart readers can catch the double entrende! Iti's like "Where's Waldo", only more people are wearing the red and white stripped shirts than you first thought when you looked at the picture.) I am SO SICK of seeing people in relationships where they get treated like the lowest little piece of scum on the planet. YOU ARE WONDERFUL! You are. Find someone who treats you like that, find anyone. You don't deserve that crap you take, that you've been taking for years. You. Don't. Deserve. It. I wish you could see how it breaks hearts of people who hardly even know you because you ARE such a fantastic, beautiful person who anyone with a bit of sense would praise God for every second, and would WORSHIP you and treat you like royalty. Dear person A: Drop person B, they're screwing you over. Go for person C. They've been standing here all along. They're the one to sweep you away...if you'd let them. I know it's hard. I really and truely ldo. But....you need to let go, just let go. No one should go through life being treated the way you are.

Wanna know what else is going through this head? Well! I'll tell ya! You said I could be there and it would all be okay. Then, things changed because of one person, and I could be there only after a certain time. HEY! You lied. You broke your promise. Let's not even go into the agreement we had not to do that thing we said we weren't going to do anymore because of that weekend I had not so long ago. You'll be throwing that out the window pretty soon. I'm guessing you don't even remember that was our deal.

Dear life:

Please, sucker punch me some more! It feels so lovely! I enjoy ever minute of it!

Your friend, Michelina

Life is Chasing Around Inside of Me Like a Squirl!

2007-10-16T15:01:00.000-04:00

I won an IPhone a few weeks ago. For Homecoming, the Alumni Association was offering it as a drawing prize. Bizare, hu? Sold it to Lauren's little brother, so good times!

We open the show in two days and I'm sick. Ah well, it could be worse. Just a sinus icky time. After work today, I'm going to go on a hunt for Cayenne Powder. From what I've heard, it works miracles.

Here's some things you should know about the show:

The University of Pittsburgh at Johnstown Theatre Department will open its new season with an affectionate rendition of George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart’s vintage comedy, You Can’t Take it With You.
The production will be presented at 8 p.m. Thursday, October 18 through Saturday, October 20 and Thursday, October 25 through Saturday, October 27, and at 2 p.m. Sundays, October 21 and 28, in the Studio Theatre of the Pasquerilla Performing Arts Center on the UPJ campus.
Winner of the 1938 Pulitzer Prize, this visit with the lovable Sycamore family sounded an upbeat message to a nation frazzled by the Great Depression, an underscoring of the need to move past the loss of material possessions to the importance of love and human connection.
Audiences will enjoy the spectacle of the “normal” daughter, Alice Sycamore’s attempt to marry into a conventional family against the backdrop of her eccentric home, where xylophone music, ballet lessons, playwriting, fireworks, a printing press, and pet snakes are the norm, with occasional visits from tax collectors and the FBI.
UPJ welcomes guest director Scott Baron. Scenic design is by James Moore, costumes by Linda Capp, lighting and sound by Michael Feight, with properties, make-up and hairstyles by Pat Fenchak.
For additional information, contact Rodney Eatman, UPJ Theatre Department director, at 814-269-7232.
Tickets may be purchased by calling the Artsline at 1-800-846-ARTS from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Mondays through Fridays. Tickets are $10. Discount tickets of $7 are being offered to senior citizens (over 65 years of age), students under 18 and members of the Pitt Johnstown community (faculty, staff, students and members of the Pitt Johnstown Alumni Association who carry the “gold card”). The box office is open for in-person sales from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday. The box office opens one hour before performances.

See you there! :-)

See the sunbeams? Everyone beams just because of you.

2007-09-18T15:22:00.000-04:00

Things are looking up!

Story time! Part One: The theatre department is doing a traveling production (the first act of The Apple Tree, which is based on Mark Twain's The Diary of Adam and Eve). And I was casted as Eve. YAY! I get to be witty and saucy but young and naive...kind of like Little Red Riding Hood in Into The Woods, except Eve is a lot smarter and a bit more whimsical.

Part Two: You Can't Take It With You had a cast member drop out, and now I'm a part of the show! I'm definitely the third most seen woman onstage. Essie is that character's name. That's pretty neat, methinks!

But me oh my, do I have a lot of lines, songs, and blocking to learn in a small amount of time! My game plan is to get the Apple Tree down first, since we're performing THAT in a week and a half, and then focus on You Can't Take It With You after that's all said and done.

Since I wasn't casted in the first round, I really need to work hard to prove myself in this role. I CANNOT slack or give a half-ass effort. I don't know where I'm going to find extra time in my day to work on this outside of rehearsal, but by golly I will!

When I was in middle school, and I was involved with an advanced class in Saltworks, I was told to see the production of You Can't Take It With You. I believe it was at the Pittsburgh Public Theatre. The show starts with Penny and Essie, and I remember the girl playing Essie vividly, just in that very first scene. She had short, dark, curly hair and a white ballet outfit on. She had to be about 25 years old, but I told my mom I thought I could have played her. I remember admiring her part and her personage. Isn't it ironic after all this time, years and years later, that I'm going to be playing that very role?

It's kinda neat how life comes full circle.

Here's the show details, if you're interested: Tickets are only $10, and the performances are October 18-28!Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm (doors open at 7:30pm), and Sundays at 2pm(doors open at 1:30pm). Send me an email or leave comments if you would like more information.

And for once it might be grand...

2007-09-04T20:37:00.000-04:00

Wow the past month has sucked, hard core.

When I grow up, I want to be closer to perfection than I am right now.

I don't know if I thought that I was a shoe-in, so I stopped trying or if I just have decreased in my skill and ambition. Either way, it isn't good. Not at all. I'm failing at what I love, what I claim is my passion, what drives me. And that ends up killing me. I need to really push myself the rest of the semester. Whether it's weight, acting projects, vocally, choreographically...I need to push myself. I will succeed, because I won't let myself do any less. That's just the mentality I have to adopt or else I am not going anywhere. And I so want to go somewhere.

I will be better. If I don't get better, I'll be in a huge pile of trouble. And I simply refuse to settle for just passing. Because I have been slammed, again and a gain, with life telling me:

"It's not working."

Okay. I get it. Now, stop giving me the fuzzy side of the lollipop.

Pray for me! I need it...please.

So Let Go, Oh Let Go...

2007-08-15T19:42:00.000-04:00

Here I am! Back at UPJ for year three. I can't believe I'm a junior. Wasn't I Freshman just a minutes ago? I guess not. Your little girl is growing up fast, you could say. I'm happy to be back, and at the same time, a lot of weird memories have come flooding back that I thought....heh, *thought* I was past. Maybe there are some things I'll never get over, some memories I'll never bury deeply enough. I need to get the hell out of here just to...

I have to be crazy. I have to be. That's what I've figured out. Something is seriously wrong with me, sometimes. Gah!

I'm really doing well, it's just this stupid little bump I can't quite make myself climb over.

Someday I'll look back on this and laugh.

Maybe I'll get the hang of this sometime...but I hate all these vague references to 'some day' or 'sometime'...is it bad to want things 'right' and 'right now? And if it isn't bad, how do I get them? Because I'm a little bit stuck.

I Saw You Today

2007-07-30T20:40:00.000-04:00

I saw you today, I was talking to my friends and you were passing through the building. I was talking and I caught a glance of your sweater, the blue one I gave you last Christmas that brings out your eyes. I wanted to sound witty or laugh or do anything to get you to look at me for a minute, but the moment elapsed and you were down the stairs and off to someplace new.

I saw you today, in the change of the leaves, as I drove down the main street, singing the blues. The sound of someone soulful filtered through the FM stereo, the one speaker still doesn’t work. You were locking your front door, walking out of the house that you share with your best friends. You know the ones that couldn’t stand the way I hung around you and held your hand? You had your haircut since that last time our paths crossed. It looked good. The reds and yellows blurred together above your head, and my car passed slowly, hoping you’d turn. You didn’t, of course, and I didn’t honk my horn, or roll down the window, I just turned up the music, and was swept away by the crescendo.

I saw you today, on the mall’s moving staircase. Yours was moving downward and mine moving up. You saw me and waved, I smiled hello. I tripped over my many bags and clumsy feet at the top of the escalator. I heard your strong, teasing laugh, and I turned around. You watched me travel past you; you took the extra second to see my back float away. You didn’t realize how much I’ve missed you. I laughed and shrugged, I’ve always been clumsy. I didn’t realize how long ago we were in love.

And neither of us knew how to say we still cared.

Found that on my computer, I wrote it a long long time ago. It was strange to find it. I'm online at the library, as my internet is still not functioning at home. I wrote a play. A short one. I still need to do a lot of work on it, but who knows, maybe it'll be something good? I finished working with the kids this week, I miss them already! I also closed Once on this Island, the last show of the summer. Man, it'll be time to go back to school before I blink! This week I'm packing my things, next week I'll be in Philly, and then it's off to UPJ for another year of excitment. But I'm really just thinking about going to Oakland tomorrow to see Ben. It'll be fun, I'm so excited! :-)

I've learned a lot about doing the whole 'long distance' thing - even though it's not that far. We're "making it work" (thanks Tim Gunn for the encouragement)! And I'm happy. Really really happy. He's everything I ever wanted and more.

All in all, things are good. I'm really blessed.

Oh. And my brother smells. Thought I'd share.

Love, hugs, and bedtime thugs,
Mic

Inspired

2007-07-08T13:04:00.000-04:00

Well. Two shows down, one to go. This summer is flying by me and taking forever at the same time it seems. Hard as it is to believe, three weeks from now I'll be done preforming, and two weeks after that I'll be back at UPJ.

At the closing night of Into The Woods, a bunch of fun stuff happened. First, at 7:07 and 7 seconds PM on 7-7-07, Rapunzel, Lucinda (one of Cinderella's stepsisters), the Wolf/Rapunzel's Prince, and I all made a wish. It was a great feeling. I love sharing those moments with friends.

The second great cool thing that happened was, well, the night before last, really. The Baker and I shared some strawberry deliciousness, Cinderella's Prince and I had a heart to heart about boys, and Jack and I made sarcastic comments about EVERYONE. Oh me, being surrounded by three gay guys was the perfect cure for a terrible week. At one point they said to me "Oh honey child! Do not worry about men, they're always going to be a problem, you might as well stop crying off good expensive make-up over them!" That's all I needed. A little sass and a lot of jokes about me turning them all straight with my good looks and charm (yeah right). :-p

The last awesome good thing that happened was: a family with a guy named Alex along with a professional sign language interpreter picked our show out of all the shows they could have gone to see in Pittsburgh to attend. After listening to the music once, they were sold on the show. Comtra is so small, the audience is right in your face and you're surrounded by them on all four sides of the stage...and this interpreter - was incredible. I watched him a lot of the time I was on stage, and the way the lyrics are, the whole show is - it's so overlapped and the interpreter caught EVERYTHING. His energy and enthusiasm was breathtaking. I felt badly because sometimes he had to stand up and sign over hus...he sat in the section directly across from Alex, so Alex could watch the action on stage and see what everyone was saying, too. I went up to him after words and shook his hand, and he and Alex kept thanking us for putting on the show. I thanked him for HIS performance, because this interpreter told me that he tries to match the energy of the actors, but he went above and beyond. It was so cool, I would love to do that. They also told me that this was the most welcoming theatre. Apparently traveling shows, like Broadway tours and such, are really rude and complain, saying things such as: "Fine! We HAVE to have these people here." That broke my heart. I hope that the people who feel that way remember what being an actor is all about...it's not about feeling inconvenienced because someone who has a special need or disability wants to enjoy the wonderful world of theatre, it's about welcoming everyone into a totally new world with witches and giants, a family, a future...etc.

Anywho, I'm inspired to say the least.

Moments in the Woods.

2007-06-30T15:34:00.000-04:00

What was that?

Was that me?
Was that him?
Did a Prince really kiss me?
And kiss me?
And kiss me?
And did I kiss him back?

Was it wrong?
Am I mad?
Is that all?
Does he miss me?
Was he suddenly
Getting bored with me?

Wake up! Stop dreaming.
Stop prancing about the woods.
It's not beseeming.
What is it about the woods?

Back to life, back to sense,
Back to child, back to husband,
You can't live in the woods.
There are vows, there are ties,
There are needs, there are standards,
There are "shouldn'ts" and "shoulds"

Why not both instead?
There's the answer, if you're clever:
have a child for warmth,
And a Baker for bread,
And a Prince for whatever-
Never!
It's these woods.

Face the facts, find the boy,
Join the group, stop the Giant-
Just get out of these woods.
Was that him? yes it was.
Was that me? No it wasn't,
Just a trick of the woods.

Just a moment,
One peculiar passing moment...
Must it all be either less or more,
Either plain or grand?
Is it always "or"?
Is it never "and"?
That's what woods are for:
For those moments in the woods...

Oh. If life were made of moments,
Even now and then a bad one-!
But if life were only moments,
Then you'd never know you had one.

First a Witch, then a child,
Then a Prince, then a moment-
Who can live in the woods?
And to get what you wish,
Only just for a moment-
These are dangerous woods...

Let the moment go...
Don't forget it for a moment, though.
Just remembering you've had and "and",
When you're back to "or",
Makes the "or" mean more
Than it did before.
Now I understand-

And it's time to leave the woods.

Where fairy tales collide, and musical numbers are performed...

2007-06-20T15:00:00.000-04:00

Time and Place
Start Time:	Friday, June 22, 2007 at 7:00pm
End Time:	Saturday, July 7, 2007 at 9:00pm
Location:	Comtra Theatre
Street:	Route 19 North
City/Town:	Cranberry, PA

Into the Woods is an award-winning musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and book by James Lapine.

The musical intertwines a collection of uncensored versions of 18th century Brothers Grimm fairy tales. An original story involving a Baker and his Wife's quest to begin a family ties together the stories of Little Red Riding Hood, Jack and the Beanstalk, Rapunzel, and Cinderella.

The musical makes heavy use of syncopated speech. In many instances, the characters' lines are delivered with a fixed beat that follows natural speech rhythms, but is also purposely composed in eighth, sixteenth, and quarter note rhythms as part of a spoken song. Like many Sondheim/Lapine productions, the songs contain thought-process narrative, where characters converse or think aloud.

The score is also notable in Sondheim's output because of its intricate reworking and development of small musical motifs. In particular, the opening words, "I wish", are set to the interval of a rising major second and this small unit is both repeated and developed throughout the show, just as Lapine's book explores the consequences of self-interest and "wishing."

To order tickets, please call 724-773-9896

Comtra Theatre is located on Route 19 North in Cranberry Township, PA, about a mile north of Cranberry Mall and the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

It isnext door to Domenico's Restaurant and across the highway from West View Savings Bank.

If you're coming from the North, we're on the left side of the road. From the south, we're on the right side.

Performances are scheduled each Friday and Saturday evening at 7:30pm
Doors open at 7:00pm

Musical Tickets are $12.

Not so late breaking news...

2007-06-14T06:17:00.000-04:00

I have a cell phone. Thanks to help from the lovely Paigetta, of course!

Want the number? Leave me a comment.

Don't care? Ignore this update.

Simply marvelous!

NOT the Hilary Duff movie, people.

2007-05-29T13:59:00.000-04:00

Cheaper by the Dozen" is about an efficiency expert who runs his large family the way he runs a factory. Any method he can find to save time or energy, he implements it. Fittingly, the play is as efficient as can be, breezing through three acts and a whole lot of congenial humor, all in only approximately 100 minutes.

The play is set in the 1920s, as remembered by Ernestine and Frank , children #s. 2 and 3 in a family of 12. They are affable hosts as they reflect on their rigidly structured but very happy childhood.

Please call 724-773-9896 to make reservations.

Show times are Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. Doors open at 7:00pm.

Plays and comedies are $10 per ticket.

Comtra is pictured on the home page of this site (http://www.comtratheatre.com), and is located on Route 19 North in Cranberry Township, PA, about a mile north of Cranberry Mall and the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Located next door to Domenico's Restaurant and across the highway from West View Savings Bank. If you're coming from the North, we're on the left side of the road. From the south, we're on the right side.

Come see it!

25 Questions.

2007-05-15T22:13:00.000-04:00

You're my friend. I'd like to know 25 things about you. Just hit "View My Complete Profile" and pick the 'Email' selection. It'll be confidential. (entertain my ass!) Thanks!

You'll be surprised how much you didn't know about your friends after this!

1. Ever punch someone in the face?

2. How old are you?

3. Are you single or taken?

4. Eat with your hands or utensils?

5. Do you dream at night?

6. Ever seen a corpse?

7. Have you ever wished someone dead?

8. Ever wanted to delete me?

9. Whats your philosophy on life? and death?

10. If you could do anything with me, and have no one know about it, what would it be?

11. Do you trust the police?

12. Do you like country music?

13. What is your fondest memory of me? Be honest.

14. If you could change anything about yourself would you?

15. Would you date me?

16. What do you wear to sleep?

17. Have you ever peed in a pool?

18. Would you hide evidence for me if I asked you to?

19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?

20. What is your favorite thing about me?

21. Do you think I'm attractive?

22. What's your favorite color?

23. If you could bring back anyone that has passed, who would it be?

24. Tell me one interesting/odd fact about you?

25. Will you post this so I can fill it out for you?

Smokey! Get Out Of That Cat Nip!

2007-05-10T22:17:00.000-04:00

Rachel and I went to the pet store today to stalk our GREAT friend Debbie from "Shady Pines" (emphasis on 'shady'), and to buy Rach's cat, Smoky, some cat nip. We had a five minute conversation with the sales lady about it having the same affect as Marijuana seems to have on humans.

Now, the only question left unanswered (I believe Rachel asked this of the pet store woman...)

If you roll it and smoke it, would it have the same affect on us as it does on Smokey?

We may never know. All I know is, Smokey got one and a third ounces for a steal.

Rachel Aileen: so the cat's outside getting stoned
Me: haha stoooned kitty
Rachel Aileen: hahah
Me: love it.
Rachel Aileen: I imagine him taking it to the streets. Smokey doesn't come home at night cause he's pushin nip on the corner
Me: he's a pretty big supplier in this area.
Rachel Aileen:so I hear
Me: Hey, don't tell anyone where you heard this from...
Me: but I think the Narc cops are onto him.
Me: I heard some talk. ya know?
Rachel Aileen: oh, man
Rachel Aileen: he's got so much hope..so much goin for him
Rachel Aileen: I never should have got him hooked
Me: You can't blame yourself.
Me: these things start so small...it's not even a blink of an eye before they snowball
Me: have you thought about intervention?
Me: N.A.?
Rachel Aileen: sigh, yes..I have
Rachel Aileen:it's just..so much trouble
Me: Hard to track down guys that'll sit down with him and agree not to encourage his habits?
Rachel Aileen: haha
Rachel Aileen: ah
Rachel Aileen: precisely
Rachel Aileen:I mean he's almost 50 in cat years..he's an adult
Me: he should know better...
Me: and like, it affects them SO much, you know?
Rachel Aileen: he should, it's a little out of control
Rachel Aileen: his tricks are loosing there form
Rachel Aileen: their*
Rachel Aileen: losing*
Me: Really?
Rachel Aileen: he's given up catching mice
Me: Wow, Rach. that's bad.
Rachel Aileen: mhm...
Rachel Aileen: really.
Me: I just...I ... I never thought it would end up like this... :'(
Rachel Aileen: I know...I didn't either.
Me: *sniff* Sorry, I'll try to hold it together.
Me: this has to be so hard on your poor parents.
Rachel Aileen: oh, yes..well..they put it all on me, ya know. I mean he's my responsibility
Me: that's not fair! He's just as much their son as he is your brother!!!
Rachel Aileen: well, he's actually more mine than his
Rachel Aileen: er..theirs*
Me: they have him 9 consecutive months out of the year, though.
Me: you asked them to look out for him.
Me: to take him under their wing!
Me: and what happens?
Me: you come home...and...and...
Rachel Aileen: i know...I KNOWW
Rachel Aileen: OH
Rachel Aileen: ah
Rachel Aileen: the agony
Rachel Aileen: the injustice
Me: WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!????????????????????????????
Me: OH WHYYYYY?
Rachel Aileen: I DON'T KNOWWW
Me: *sob*
Me: Check this out.
Me: http://thirdeyedumb.com/2007/04/children_have_begun_artists_ha.html
Rachel Aileen: hahah wow that's awesome
Me: lol
Rachel Aileen is away at 10:04:54 PM.
Me: lol I love you right now.
___________________________________________________________________
Auto response from Rachel Aileen:

Rachel Aileen: I imagine him taking it to the streets. Smokey doesn't come home at night cause he's pushin nip on the corner.
Michelina: You can't blame yourself.
Michelina: these things start so small...it's not even a blink of an eye before they snowball
__________________________________________________________________

Me: and always!
Me: ...and Smokey. God bless him.

We are a special pair, us two.

Only 101 Days to Go.

2007-05-02T22:53:00.001-04:00

I forgot how insane my family is. Today was a crazy one, but if I go on and on about that - that would be emo. Instead, I'll talk about happy things. Let me think. Today was a good day, some of it. I've been reading a book called 'Jesus' Son.' It's a compilation of short stories, very good imagery and analogy use. I think that sometimes it takes a really realistic writer to inspire imaginative creativity (no guarantee it'll be HAPPY imaginative creativity, though).

Strands of Fire

Daniel's soon-to-be-wife walked into the cozy restaurant, a whirlwind of creamy snow twirling dizzily around her, only to quickly be sucked up by the vacuum created when the heavy wooden door closed with a satisfying k-chuk. Daniel quickly rose to greet her. After gently lifting off Monique's heavy green pea coat, and seating her in a weighty coal-colored throne, he stole a moment to simply drink in her energy. Enthusiastically chatting away, telling secrets of Christmas shopping, and bridal party dresses, she was completely oblivious to her own charm, the breathtaking delicacy, yet thick power to draw a captive audience of one. He held her beloved in his focus, letting her laughter wash over him.

Daniel couldn't help glancing at Monique's newly manicured fingers as she slipped them out of her black velvet gloves. The ring he presented to her a short two years ago rested on her left hand, the exact picture of elegance. It seemed as though it was only yesterday he was down on one knee, gazing into her dark chocolate brown eyes. He stared at her, and she continued her talk of errands ran throughout the day. Monique brushed the stray strands of fire out of her eyes, and tucked them behind her ear. "By the way," she was choosing her words carefully, leaning over her stemmed glass of red wine,

"I ran into Olivia today while I was shopping for your mom's Christmas present. She and I grabbed some brunch before I went back to shopping. I decided on a small Sapphire bracelet. It was on sale, and her birthday is in September so, that's her birthstone. I think she'll like it, don't you?"

"Back up, cutie. You ran into whom?" To the best of Daniel's knowledge, Olivia moved to Connecticut to obtain her PhD and start her own practice. She moved out of this tired little town ages ago. The charm it holds for Daniel and Monique stifled Olivia.

"Yeah, she's engaged to that guy now...what was his name? You know the one, she's been with him for about five years now, something with a J..."

"Jonathan. Jonathan O'Dae."

"That's right! What a nice guy he is. She's really happy; they're getting married about two months after we are. Isn't that exciting? We had wedding talk, it was great. You know, the girlie things. Oh, and..."

Daniel's thoughts interrupted the flow of conversation. O'Dae. Daniel remembered him all too well. When Daniel left Olivia for the last time (little did he know then that was the end of not only a relationship, but a long-time friendship), Jonathan whisked Olivia off to far away places, even though she still had her apartment just down the street.

Olivia was in the same graduate school program as Daniel. They had similar classes and ended up being semester project partners. When winter break came around, they continued to speak on the phone, and by January, Daniel fell for her. He knew he wasn't her "type", but that she was beautiful and outgoing. He was just quiet, more reserved, not as popular or well-known around campus. However, in March, he made a name for himself and her heart began to flutter faster at the mention of him.

Soon, invited him to her apartment. They were there often. One night, he didn't leave. And the next night, and the next night...they just talked until they couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. They were more than a couple come summertime, more than that, they were best friends. Each at separate internships, yet always bouncing ideas back and forth. She was his stronghold. She saw things, ways to make projects more innovative, and her input improved his performance. She swore he was inspiring her to be something more than just average.

But, time changes things. Time really does change things. People say words they don't mean, and hearts are quite breakable, even in today's day and age. By December, the 'together' status changed to 'apart' and back again almost weekly. At the end, there was nothing more to say. He couldn't be with her, as badly as he desired it to be so; she knew life without him would be unbearable. Begging, pleading, and second chances - all were exhausted.

Daniel moved on, perhaps more quickly than he should have. Monique was his shoulder to cry on and a funny face to make him smile. Months later, Daniel heard of Olivia's new beau, and it was - surprisingly - a shot to the heart. Old wounds were opened and they bled freely. It was so painful; he felt he had to talk to Olivia again.

That ended poorly. And now? They haven't spoken in years, via her request. He heard from former classmates and friends of friends that Olivia was going to be very successful far away from this little town. That was the last he knew of the closest friendship and heaviest heartbreak he ever had.

Her voice was pressing, insisting. Monique reached out and squeezed her almost-husband's hand. "Isn't that great, darling?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, what?" Daniel shook the cobwebs of old memories out of his head, and looked up at her.

"I said, isn't that great, darling?"

Ok, that was only a LITTLE emo. I'm watching Nick @ Nite and typing, so give me a break. It's the best I can come up with while I'm zapping my brain into an oblivion of Carlton doing that weird happy dance he is so good at. Bedtime. Peace, out.

There is a River in Judea

2007-04-23T10:17:00.001-04:00

Often times I dream of music,
Of the river that freely flows.
And it sings a song sweeter than honey,
One everybody knows.

Late at night, I hear it singing.
Then again when I wake at dawn.
And it fills me up with hope and goodwill,
The will to go on,
Go on.

There is a river in Judea
That I heard of long ago.
And it's a singing, ringing river
That my soul cries out
To know.

I believe it keeps on travlin'
But it rests on the Sabbath day.
And the time when it pauses in stillness,
I almost hear it pray.
When I'm weary and downhearted,
How I long for the song it sings,
For the calm within its gentle blue,
The peace that it brings, it brings.

There is a river in Judea
That I heard of long ago.
And it's a singing, ringing river
That my soul cries out
To know.

May the time not be too distant
When we meet by the river (meet by the) shore.
'Til then dream of that wonderful day
As we sing once more, once more:

There is a river in Judea (hallelu)
That I heard of long ago (hallelu),
It's a singing, ringing river
That my soul cries out (my soul cries out)
To the river in Judea.
Hallelujah

The line 'I almost hear it pray' is my favorite, even though sopranos don't sing it, there's this BEAUTIFUL tenor part, it makes my heart rise every time. :-)

I sang 'Roxie' from Chicago at a choir concert on Saturday, and messed it up! *Takes a Bow* THANK YEEEW! Heh, ah well, tis a smaller thing.

I like to listen to my old choir concerts on CD, which I am doing now, very interesting to hear how a group grows and changes and diminishes, just to grow again.

You know, I have the best poem ideas when I am awake, but exhausted, just after the alarm rings for the third time, or so. However, they slip my mind by the time I sit down at the computer.

I already have three finals down, only two to go. Oh me. I'm ready to get outta here for the summer. I haven't even started packing, though. Which is not so cool. But it will get done. I'm on key duty most of tomorrow, so that will be a great time to take care of this... *ahem* clutter (to put it lightly).

'You'd notice him...and even without like cluckin' like a hen, everyone gets noticed now and then...'

I'm in "Cheaper by the Dozen" and "Into The Woods" already this summer. Rehearsals will start as soon as I get home. Oh! And an audition for "Once on this Island". I think I'll sing 'The Wizard and I" and "Nice"...or maybe "Times Like This". They're all by the same writers who did Once on this Island, so that's helpful. Keep your fingers crossed! I already am Ernestine (great name!) and Little Red Riding Hood!

So, I guess I'm getting noticed, at least in community theatre.

I should update the ol' resume.

"I hope I haven't taken up too much of your time."

I'm off to get more boxes, drop off my First Aid kit (yeah, that was due Friday. My bad), and turning in old paperwork.

Peace, love, and gorgeous weather.

April Showers...

2007-04-16T09:43:00.000-04:00

"April showers bring May flowers..."

Ha! That's a laugh. It's currently:
30°F
Light Snow
Wind: W at 31 mph
Humidity: 88%

Welcome to Johnstown...otherwise known as an Antarctic Hell.

Today, we shall discuss how to stay warm when traveling from Hickory Hall to Krebs Hall on snowy April mornings.

Usually, all one would have to do is walk outside their side door, into the bright warm sunshine. They would walk past Laurel, past the student union, library, Biddle Hall, the 'Quad' (which is really a 'Triad'), and walk into Krebs. However, it is not bright, warm, or sunny...

Instead, what one needs to do is go the long way out of Hickory, in order to keep warm until the very last second. Then, cut through Laurel, avoid those exercising in the rec. room, and run in to the Union. Go up the Union stairs, though the top entrance, and proceed to take the 'Biddle Bypass.' Walk all the way through Biddle, come out near Blackington, go into Blackingtown (because even if you're inside for a second, at least you avoid the snow falling off the roof and the wind that is strong enough to take you off your feet), and sprint into Krebs before hit with a falling icicle.

And THAT is how you get around UPJ. I admit, it's tedious, long, and unnecessary - but...IT'S SNOWING IN APRIL! So, it doesn't really matter how ridiculous my route is, because nothing tops snow after the first week of March.

Today, it's snowing. And it has been for about three weeks now.

I want you all to know, I'm protesting Mother Nature. Today, I wore Green Flipflops. Tomorrow, I may forgo my winter coat. By Friday, who knows? I may just walk around campus in my bathing suit.

I think that the weather just needs reminding that winter is over. Someone forgot to send a memo somewhere, and now it's gross outside. See what happens when you don't file paperwork in a timely manner?

Visual DNA

2007-03-17T12:01:00.000-04:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Just love me through the chaos

2007-03-15T23:28:00.000-04:00

What's going on? WHY AREN'T YOU SEIZING THE BOY!?
I have a big head...and little arms... I'm just not sure how well this plan was thought through
-- Meet the Robinsons

Every time I see that commercial I crack up. My brother and I were hanging out at home Sunday afternoon, I was packing, and it came on. I paid no attention, but my brother proceeds to burst out of the bathroom in a bizarre pose with his arms shrunk into his shirt, and he screamed 'I HAVE A BIG HEAD! AND LITTLE ARMS!' I looked at him like he was nuts, he sat me down and made me watch the commercial. Thanks Mark!

I'm assistant directing for Golgonooza AKA: co-directing/props managing/stage crew to directors go-between/ secretary. It's a good time. I'm not used to Dylan, the official director, or his style. But I know it will be a good play when we're all through. My organizational creativity and his absurdest ideas will blend well together.

I was chosen to be a Resident Director of a large first year building for the 2007-2008 school year. Yeah Hickory Hall! I'm excited, but this week is a little stressful. Interviewing returning RA's, and new candidates, selecting the strongest staff possible - oh my. I'm confident that everything will turn out very well. Still, nerves are getting the best of me.

Scheduling. I convinced mom to let me drop my sociology minor. Thank God.

Through all of the insanity, something is missing. I don't know what it is, it's nameless, it's ominous, it's quiet. I'm tired, not sleepy. Tired. It's weird, I'm oddly dissatisfied with my sophomore year. But I'm fulfilled by certain experiences that have made it worthwhile. I think that I haven't found the balance of insane work and quality friend time. I feel like I've lost connection with a lot of the 'LLC kids'. I miss it.

We do the best with what we have. That's all anyone can do.

I hope this empty feeling goes away.

To us. Whoever we are.

So I will bear my folly back and follow you no further...

2007-01-29T14:46:00.000-05:00

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source
bro·ken /ˈbroʊkən/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[broh-kuhn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–verb
1.
pp. of break. –adjective
2.
reduced to fragments; fragmented.
3.
ruptured; torn; fractured.
4.
not functioning properly; out of working order.
5.
Meteorology. (of sky cover) being more than half, but not totally, covered by clouds. Compare scattered (def. 4).
6.
changing direction abruptly: The fox ran in a broken line.
7.
fragmentary or incomplete: a broken ton of coal weighing 1,500 pounds.
8.
infringed or violated: A broken promise is a betrayal of trust.
9.
interrupted, disrupted, or disconnected: After the phone call he returned to his broken sleep.
10.
weakened in strength, spirit, etc.: His broken health was due to alcoholism.
11.
tamed, trained, or reduced to submission: The horse was broken to the saddle.
12.
imperfectly spoken, as language: She still speaks broken English.
13.
spoken in a halting or fragmentary manner, as under emotional strain: He uttered a few broken words of sorrow.
14.
disunited or divided: Divorce results in broken families.
15.
not smooth; rough or irregular: We left the plains and rode through broken country.
16.
ruined; bankrupt: the broken fortunes of his family.
17.
Papermaking, Printing. a quantity of paper of less than 500 or 1000 sheets.
—Related forms
bro·ken·ly, adverb
bro·ken·ness, noun
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Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source
pain /peɪn/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[peyn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1.
physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc.
2.
a distressing sensation in a particular part of the body: a back pain.
3.
mental or emotional suffering or torment: I am sorry my news causes you such pain.
4.
pains,
a.
laborious or careful efforts; assiduous care: Great pains have been taken to repair the engine perfectly.
b.
the suffering of childbirth.
5.
Informal. an annoying or troublesome person or thing. –verb (used with object)
6.
to cause physical pain to; hurt.
7.
to cause (someone) mental or emotional pain; distress: Your sarcasm pained me. –verb (used without object)
8.
to have or give pain. —Idioms
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was told I have the ability to sing like Amy Lee from Evanescence, once. I was told I was beautiful, once. I was told I look better without make-up, once. Once, once, once upon a time.

Everyone matters to me. If they are a part of my life, or ever were - they matter to me.

I'm broken and in pain, but so was Job. He got through. I need to find God again...

Words can't describe the past month. It would be impossible.

I feel exhausted and ill and don't know how I'll get through the next minute, hour, day...but I will.

Pray for me, if you have a moment. I know I can be safe in God's hands.

Love, me.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wanted you to know, I love the way you laugh. I want to hold you high and steal your pain away. I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well. I want hold you high and steal your pain. Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel right when you're gone away. You've gone away, you don't feel me, anymore. The worst is over now and we can breathe again. I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away. There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight. I want to hold you high and steal your pain. Because I'm broken when I'm open. And I don't feel like I am strong enough... Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel right when you're gone away. You've gone away. You don't feel me here anymore.

This Is Heaven To Me

2006-12-30T00:17:00.000-05:00

THIS IS HEAVEN TO ME

By: Michelina, Grade Four

When you go to heaven the first thing you will do is go to the Gates of Heaven. You will then go into a palace and see God. Heaven looks like the sky on Earth but mostly it is white clouds. The gates are golden and have a sign on them that reads HEAVEN. At night time in Heaven it’s never dark. When you feel tired you put your hands in a machine next to your cloud and your hands tingle. You get recharged and you’re not tired anymore.

God is very big and he is waiting for you inside the Gates of Heaven with the Head Angel. God has brown hair and blue eyes. He has a very, very deep voice! He says to you, “Hello! I’ve been expecting you. You will be here forever. You have earned yourself the right to live here. You will be able to earn your wings by being sent to Earth. You will be a guide there. After you have taken care of this person for a long time you will be able to earn your wings! Here we go!”

God takes you down to Earth and makes you go into someone so you can watch the person. After five years of watching this person you get your wings so you can jump out of the person. Then you go up to Heaven.

When you live in Heaven you live on fluffy white clouds. When you want something all you have to do is snap your fingers around and you get it. The best thing about Heaven is that you get to eat whatever you want.

The person that you most want to meet in Heaven is God because you’ve been waiting your whole life to meet him. In Heaven you can do anything you want (except something bad). If you want to see your dead pet then all you do is spread your wings and go down through the universe and then through your galaxy and you will find your pet in the stars!

If I could talk to someone who is in Heaven now I would want to talk to my great-grandmother Michelina. I would like to meet the person I was named after. I would like to know what she looks like, what her voice sounds like and what her personality is. I think she was a nice person on Earth. I think she can see me now in Heaven.

As long as you are a good person you can go to heaven and have eternal life forever. It is so simple, don’t you think so? I do.

Theatre Survey

2006-12-05T15:55:00.000-05:00

Theatre Survey

LAST SHOW ADDED TO YOUR RESUME:
Carnival - Princess Olga

LAST SHOW YOU AUDITIONED FOR:
A Midsummer Nights Dream, Shakespeare

DID YOU GET IN:
Yes! :-D

LAST SONG YOU USED AT AN AUDITION:
Vanilla Ice Cream, from the show She Loves Me

FAVORITE THEATRE (VENUE):
I really like IUP's theatre.

FAVORITE MUSICAL:
I have to pick one?

FAVORITE PLAY:
This week? Hmmm...

FAVORITE ROLE YOU'VE PLAYED, AND FROM WHAT SHOW?
I really liked Annie in Over the Tavern.

FAVORITE ROLE OVERALL THAT I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY:
Christine - Phantom of the Opera
Kathy -The Last 5 Years
Eliza - My Fair Lady
Laura - The Glass Menagerie
Connie - Barefoot in the Park
Harper - Angels in America
Hermia - Midsummer Nights Dream
Maria - Sound of Music

SUPERSTITION:
I pray before I go on stage or I can't do it. Also, shaking my hands out like crazy, hair spraying my hair, touching up make-up last minute, asking someone if I look okay...etc.

YOUR GOAL IN SHOW BUSINESS:
Get paid and be part of something excellent, not just passable. To do an amazing job. To change lives through theatre. To succeed in the art of being an actress, not just a performer.

FAVORITE DIRECTOR:
That I've worked with? Biff Barron and Dave Newhart

WHAT WAS YOUR VERY FIRST SHOW?:
Alice in Wonderland

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A DANCE SOLO?:
AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA...if you count the hip wiggle thing I did in Carnival or that bed swaying in Lucky Stiff 'dancing'.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SINGING SOLO?
Mmmhmm

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN THE LAST PERSON TO TAKE A BOW?
Indeed.

NAME A SHOW YOU'VE DONE MORE THAN ONCE:
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

HAVE YOU BEEN TO NEW YORK?
Twice.

HAVE YOU BEEN TO LA?
Nopers.

WHAT'S THE SCARIEST PART OF AN AUDITION?:
Waiting to go in and audition, or waiting for the cast to be announced.

WHAT'S THE BEST PART OF AN AUDITION?:
All of it. It's exhilarating.

NAME A SHOW YOU WOULD NEVER DO AGAIN:
I'd do any show again for the experience, even if I couldn't stand the show itself. Why miss an opportunity to gain a new insight of the theatre?

NAME A SHOW YOU COULD DO FOR YEARS:
Again, I'd do any show for years if I had the opportunity. But probably Mrs. Bob Cratchit's Wild Christmas Binge or Lucky Stiff.

NAME A PERSON YOU'D LIKE TO WORK WITH AGAIN:
There are way too many people to list here.

WHAT ARE YOU AUDITIONING FOR NEXT?
Golgonooza.

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PERFORMING?:
Since I was 10 years old.

DO YOU CARRY YOUR HEADSHOTS AROUND WITH YOU?
No, I need to get some professionally done.

DO YOU KEEP IN TOUCH WITH PAST CAST MEMBERS?:
Only ones I like.

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW IMPORTANT IS GETTING PAID?:
1. I don't care. It's what I love, it's my passion, it's what I was made to do. If I happen to get paid for it, that's awesome.

SOMETHING EMBARRASSING OR UNEXPECTED THAT HAPPENED TO YOU WHILE ON STAGE?:
Once, I spilled soda EVERYWHERE. Another time, I had water spit out onto me. Another time, I had to drink something quickly on stage and it was some sugary sweet stuff - something we never used before and it coated my throat so by the end of the song I couldn't get the last notes out and the other actor on stage with me had to cover my butt. Oh! And, I had a snake trying to choke me. That was neat.

WHAT IS YOUR MOST MEMORABLE PERFORMANCE?
I don't know that I could narrow it down to just one performance.

WHO IS THE MOST DIFFICULT PERSON (ON STAGE OR OFF) THAT YOU HAVE EVER WORKED WITH?:
Like I'm gonna say here...haha. Nice try.

EVER BEEN NAKED ON STAGE?:
No way. No one would pay to see that.

WHO OR WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST INSPIRATION OR INFLUENCE?:
Oh, I love Audrey Hepburn. And Kathrine Hepburn. And Deborah Karr. And Idina Menzel.

BEST PROFESSIONAL SHOW(S) YOU'VE SEEN?
Hairspray, original cast, NYC April 2005

BEST COLLEGE SHOW(S) YOU'VE SEEN:
Like I can answer that in an unbiased way.

BEST COMMUNITY SHOW(S):
Gosh. Not sure...

BEST HIGH SCHOOL SHOW(S) YOU'VE SEEN?
Not to be partial, but North Allegheny does a really good job with their shows.

ON STAGE, HAVE YOU EVER...

BEEN KILLED?:
No

BEEN DRUNK?:
Yup yup!

PLAYED SOMEONE HALF YOUR AGE?
Mmm...no.

PLAYED SOMEONE TWICE YOUR AGE?:
Not yet.

CRIED?:
Yes, oh heavens yes.

FIRED A GUN?
No

DRIVEN A CAR?
On stage?? Say what!?

BEEN IN A DREAM SEQUENCE?:
Yuppers. 'Woof woof!'

BEEN KISSED?:
Once.

Thanksgiving.

2006-11-22T15:21:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Thanksgiving break! My laundry is done, my bags are packed, my nails are done, my room is clean (that's a lie), and I'm waiting for my mom and little brother to come and pick me up and whisk me away to Philadelphia for some quality family time.

They're only four hours late.

I should be doing something productive, like reading or writing an essay or memorizing for acting class. But no. I'm updating this instead. Isn't that productive?

Here's a little do-dad. Enjoy:

Laying on the bottom bunk
The red glowing clock burns the time onto my retinas
1:56am
I'm in between that place of wakefulness and dreams
And I'm talking to you about God and drinking and love
You're smiling and playing with my hair
You know how much I love that
I'm staring you in the eye
And we're promising each other never to make that mistake again
We're whispering words of intangible sights
We're screaming out loud
Our thoughts are flying into the nighttime air
And I watch as they float around the crown of you head
The fresh air blows in through the open window
And it's the only thing I can think of....
I kiss you.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Eat lots of turkey!

Secrets.

2006-10-22T21:15:00.000-04:00

There is a whisper of a word
spoken loudly and
absurd as it sounds, one
can never be sure be--
(careful who you trust)
--cause it seems as though this rumor might
be based on truths.
Promise me, promise me, you won’t
breathe a syllable of what
I’m about to tell you,
if it’s kept quiet it never
happened. Between those
sheets of sweeter than chocolate
love forever, more than wakeful
sleep, we shared a secret
and a promise I couldn’t keep.

Tolerate Mornings!

2006-09-18T20:18:00.000-04:00

I am on a hiatus. From boys. For a while.

ATTENTION ANYONE WITH THE XY CHROMOSOME!

I like you, really. I do. And in a few months, yeah, we could be dating or in a relationship – whatev. But. Right now? Today? We’re friends. All of you and me are friends. That’s it. From now until I know what I’m doing.

I won’t write about a break up, a mess up, a new start, or a broken heart. I don’t have the energy or desire, really.

I am being selfish. I’m taking time to figure out what I want.

That’s it. That’s what I’m up to. In a nutshell.

And I’m totally fine.

Tolerate mornings, kids! ;-)

You and Your Contradictions.

2006-08-28T22:40:00.000-04:00

You have no idea and you have every inkling.
You are on your toes and you are totally relaxed.
You don't know who it is and you speak their name clearly.
You are lost and you are found out.
You know the time is not right, and I cannot talk but we are still on the phone.
You cannot dance and you are swinging to the music.
You are all alone and you are right next to me.
You stand up tall and you are crumbling to the ground.
You think but you have shut down.
You cannot play and you are tossing the ball.
You refuse to speak above a whisper and you are screaming at the top of your lungs.
You sing something pretty and you do not know the notes.
You hate the sunshine and you refuse to play in the rain.
You close your eyes and you can see everything.
You smile and you let the tears roll.
You tap on the keyboard but you have forgotten the words.
You hug your stuffed animal and you say you have grown.
Your stomach hurts and you run harder still.
You claim you are not right and you hate that I agree with you.
You claim to see light but all you talk about are shadows.
You think you are listening and you cannot hear me.
You say that I have killed you yet you are holding the knife.

Just random stuff, nothing good or meaningful this time. I thought I'd type something emo and not creative out while I had a minute, haha. ;-)

Did You Know That Your Glove Size Is The Same As Your Shoe Size? It Is The Truth...

2006-08-09T17:22:00.000-04:00

"Oh my gosh," a camper exclaimed. "Miss Emily, Miss Emily! My foot! It's bigger than my hand!" I loved teaching four to eight year old theatre campers for that reason. "Yeah, Riley," I replied, "it sure is." She examined her hand, which was resting peacefully on her foot until this discovery. Placing her fully extended hand on the bottom of her flip flop, she tilted her head to the left, and then to the right, trying to take in this mind-blowing, life-changing observation. She pulled her sister's hair and said, "Maive, look at this for a minute."

Riley was absolutely mezmorized by the simple fact that her foot, was indeed, larger than her tiny little hand. Maive, being three years younger, didn't seem as fazed by this little known fact. She continued chewing her Goldfish and sipping her sister's canteen of juice every once in a while. However, Reily's gram crackers lay forgotten by the Arts and Crafts table, as she found different ways to place the palm of her hand against the heel of her foot. Soon, she decided that things might change if she adjusted the way she sat. So, the next time I turned around, Riley was on her back, her feet bent backwards next to her ears (a position I'm not sure any human with the correct amount of bones and joints can accomplish safely), gently resting on top of her hands.

"Miss Emily," she demanded, sitting upright. "Why has no one informed me about the size of my feet? " I explained that everyone, basically, had hands that were a bit smaller than their feet. She did not accept this readily at all. "No," she said, "I think that I must have been born with a disease of 'Rather-us Large-mon-ious Toes-eys Syndrome', and when the doctor told my mommy that I was going to be born that way, her and daddy cried and begged him to say that it wasn't really true and that he was making it up but he said it was the truth and it was real. And then I was born and they decided they would never tell me that I was doomed to live the rest of my life with gianormous feet and itty bitty hands! And now that I've discovered it, they're going to send me off into a spaceship! With lots of other people who have big feet! And then I won't be able to play the Great Bear in our show! And then what will we do, Miss Emily? Can you call the aliens and write me a note saying I can't go on the spaceship with the other big feet people until after camp is over? Please?"

I said we could write it right now, if she wanted to. She went to get me a crayon and some pink construction paper to write her excuse letter to explain her absence to the aliens. As I watched her re-tell this story to poor, unsuspecting Maive, I thought to myself:

"Well, we are at theatre camp."

In ten years, we'll see her on Broadway, playing some sort of dying and dramatic swan, I'm sure.

Over The Tavern

2006-07-05T17:05:00.000-04:00

COMTRA THEATRE PRESENTS

By Tom Dudzick
Directed by Dave Neuhart

By Special Arrangements With The William Morris Agency

Go back in time to Buffalo, New York in 1959 and join the Pazinski family as Rudy, the youngest of four childrent, confronts his doubts about Catholicism and family dynamics. This heart-warming story will amuse but also provoke thought as the family lives day to day life in their apartment "over the tavern".

Meet the Pazinskis':

Rudy: Matthew W---

Ellen: Annette Q----

Chet: Tom L-----

Annie: Michelina P------

Eddie: TJ S------

Georgie: Josh B------

And their favorite nun:

Sister Clarissa: Donna M----

SHOW DATES: August 4, 5, 10*, 11, and 12th at 7:30 p.m. (*Thursday performance)
Call for tickets!

PLEASE NOTE: While people age 10 and older will enjoy this show, there is some language that may not be suitable for all theatergoers.

Wating for the Next Big Thing

2006-06-28T23:00:00.000-04:00

Waiting For The Next Big Thing

I’m from the North Hills, which is twenty minutes or so outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It is suburbia, folks, and you can’t get away from it. It is not the country, but definitely not the city either. And at age nineteen, I am stuck here like a piece of chewing gum in my little brother’s hair. It can be pretty, the grass and the trees and the strip malls. But one tends to get bored easily, so I rely on my ‘people-watching’ abilities. I know you have heard of ‘bird-watching’, so I can compare ‘people-watching’ to ‘bird-watching’. I sit down in a restaurant, a store, on a bench, in a public restroom, and notice how people act. I hear amazing love stories and horrible tragedies. I meet a bunch of people that have no story, besides the one I supply. You would be amazed at the type of inhabitants of this area.

I was in Starbucks yesterday, and I was going about my people-watching, as usual. Behind me was a group of middle school students who were enjoying a celebratory breakfast with their classmates before the last day of school.

“And then SHE said to me that it didn’t matter what we did so long as we did it, and I told her she better chill because it’s the last week of school and then she retracted her claws!”

The group of three girls and one boy laughed. A second boy joined the group and was greeted with a ‘hey, hottie!’ He wasn’t that attractive. I was watching these thirteen-year-olds sitting around, putting up their masks and pretending they were greater and more secure than they really were. When the parental units entered the scene, reminding them of their commitment to one final day of school before three months of freedom – the seventh graders blushed with embarrassment. How dare their mother act like she KNOWS her son and his friends? How embarrassing. Total social suicide. What a way to start the summer.

The business men on the couch next to them hardly noticed the mother’s social blunder. “It’s hard,” the thirty-something man in a navy blue suit explains to his elder, who dawns a gray blazer. After a sympathetic nod, the younger man continued, “this constant hiding and lying and denying that there is anything wrong. You would think someone would come up with a ‘no strings attached’ system for carrying on an affair.” The older man stared at him long and hard before asking in a quiet voice, “are you breaking up with me?”

A loud crash from the display table made the father of a sweet looking imp, cringe. He dragged his daughter, who looked to be just under schooling age, up to the front with one hand, while holding the remains of a broken mug in the other. “Hand the nice lady the money, Olivia.” His impatience could not be masked by his sweet tone. Olivia started to cry and her father handed the cashier the money himself. He bought her a cookie, told her accidents happen, and at least there was no hot coffee in the cup like the LAST time she broke one. She laughed and hopped onto her father for a piggyback ride to the car.

There was one lone girl, who was almost a woman, sitting by herself at one of those very small round tables that barely fits two people, but Starbucks tries anyway, just to make it look like there is more seating. The result is a cluttered look, more than anything. She watched everything around her, and was taking mental notes. She was bored to tears and sucked into the other people’s lives that she had been watching, all at the same time. She drank an over-priced ice coffee, and looked as though she was waiting for the next big thing. No one spoke to her, though she made eye contact with everyone. They could feel her nonchalant stare. She should have been out having her own life, instead of living vicariously through others just to write it down later. Everyone sees her quietly observing their lives and no one speaks to her, no one invites her in, and no one knows why she is there. I know why she is there. She is there to build a character for a role she will play on stage some day. She is there to gain writing material. She is there to learn about her surroundings in ways others care not to. They know where they live, they wave hello to their neighbor, and never know their children’s teachers. She does not want to become that. She wants to know the people that live around her so personally, she could finish their sentences. She wants them to read this, and see that they are noticed. She wants to break the mold.

And all the while, these caffeine consuming, time managing, private lives citizens of the North Hills, just twenty minutes outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, assume it’s just another day around town.

Old Letters And New Characters

2006-06-01T13:23:00.001-04:00

I found this old letter to my fifth grade teacher. Her name is Mrs. Barbara Link and she was so cool. No one liked her, and she scared me, and one day I messed up a science project where you had to tape two ends of 2 lt. soda bottles together and plant seeds in one end and put air holes in the other...I put holes in both of my halves and thought there was no reparing it. I wrote her a note that said I messed it up, and please don't tell my mom. She wrote me a note back saying during recess I should talk to her. She helped me fix it and then I wrote her and she wrote me back whenever I needed to tell her something but was too scared. She really was a nice lady. Apparently, one day she tripped and fell on her stairs and slipped a disk. So her and I started writing back and forth, and in my ten-year-old mind I thought I was so cool, getting mail from someone older than me. Anyway, I lost her address when we moved from Philidealphia to Pittsburgh. I guess this letter never got into the mail.

Date: May 22, 1998

Dear Mrs. Link,

Hi! I have this strange feeling that all my letters have gotten lost on there way to you and they are half way across China by now. If you do however, get this letter by some miracle please write back! If for some reason, you can't, dictate to someone and get them to mail it for you! Now that I got that out o the way, today was Field Day today, and today was the hoop-off! I was on the white team. The score was 243 to 241. White only lost by two points! WAAAAAAA! It was so close. I made it to the Hoop-Off. Laura McC , Jessica H, an d I stood next to each other. Jess fell after 15 min. I felt so bad. Me and Laura (oops), Laura and I did allot of things while we were hooping, we said the Rosaries, TWICE! we saw a blimp that said 'Metlife' and Snoopy was on it! My knees hurts so much that I got down on my knees and hooped a the same time! Laura and I didn't drop our hoops when it was time, we flung are selves on the ground! I thought I'd never get up, but I did. Laura an d i won, there were 280 kids that started and 47 that made it through the hole thing, and Laura and I made it 47 instead of 45. I feel so happy to know I counted, literally!

Are you coming to the talent show and / or the 5th grade graduation? Pleeeeeeeeeease say yes. Well, what are you waiting for? Come on all you have to say is Y-E-S! We sold are house. We are moving out of are house on the 31st of July. Here is my new address:

- - - - Claridon Drive

- - - s Pa

1- - - -

I'm almost out of room! I will type as much more as I can. We had Young Author's Day. My illustration won for the front cover!!!!!!!!!!!! I was / am so excited. I don't want my computer to get mad at me so I'll have to cut it short.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Michelina

P.S.

My dad got a new Pontiac Grand Prix! It's black!

So I'm workin gin an assisted living home. I have been there a week now. I'm learning a lot about myself and others, I like working with other people (since I'm a people-person), I love to hear the residents stories, and I can pick my hours. However, it's twelve hour shifts (7am-7pm) and it's five days a week - sixty hours! The pay is decent, and I have things I need to start saving for, so that's a plus. But it's hard work. I have to help serve food, bathe, change diapars, answer call buttons, dress, and make sure there is no escaping of the residents. There are three units. The 'main level' (you're not allowed to say 'upstairs' because it's demeaning to those 'downstairs') is for people who can dress themselves, know what's going on basically, and are pretty coherent. The 'garden level' has two seperate units. 'Frail' is for those who are physically unable to do what they used to be able to do, and sometimes their minds aren't the best either. 'P.C.' or 'Politely Confused' is for those who's body is still functioning pretty well, but their minds are a little lost. Ok, a lot lost. P.C. is the most isolated unit, and if you go there, you're there alone. One staff person and 12 residents and three exits to watch. The only goot thing is that the doors have alarms and codes and anytime a door opens you have to type in the code to shut off the alarm. It's pretty high tech, I have to get my fingerprint scanned to clock in and out of work.

I had worked in Frail (where there are two staff members down there at a time) as well as Main level, again, two people. And then on Sunday, the supervisor sends me to P.C. -- that's a death sentence. She said the night crew person would tell me what to do and if I could do Main, I could do P.C. Fine. I go and the night crew person writes where everyone's room is, who's violent and not, who needs what kind of diapers, who tries to run...And then she leaves me. And I am all alone with twelve residents. All day, these people hear and see ghosts of their past. Some more than others. For three days I spoke nonsense and lies, and it was not easy. It's very sad, they beg me to let them leave, they want to know where they are, when they're going home, and they ask why I am doing this to them. I started to write down some of what I could.

Joan

I met Joan. Joan doesn't know what's going on. She points and speaks about things that aren't there, asks me questions about who knows what, and sees me as someone she knows or once knew. She constantly looks at me after complimenting me and then says "are you staying? you need to stay, you and your sisters NEVER stay long, I only see you once a year..."

"I couldn't find her." "That's okay, she'll be back tomorrow." "Is he alright?" "Yes." "You're beautiful, God you're beautiful." "You're beautiful, too." "I love your dress." "Thank you." "You're beautiful." "Thank you, so are you." "You don't have to be, you're so good.""Thank you." "I have to go to school." "It's Saturday, the teachers won't be there." "They're coming up nicely." "I think so."

Bill

Bill is a war vet. The other day he told me he was dying and that he was shot 'yesterday' and he was dying and needed to see a doctor right away. He said he was bleeding everywhere. I told him that was sixty-some years ago, and he's fine now. Apparently he was shot three times and he still has a bullet in his head. He called me a dumb something or other for not believing him and serving food like nothing was the matter.

"Do you work?" "Yes, I work here." "Here?" "here?" "Yes." "Oh." "And I like the theatre, I'm an actress." "Are you? What one?" "What show am I in? ...*pause to make something up* My Fair Lady." "Did they give you the sweater already?" "Yes...so are you going to sit down for me at the dinner table, now?" "No kiddin?" "No, no kidding. :-) " "I want you to know, for your information, I don't have my drivers license." "Ok, I'll keep that in mind, thanks for making me aware." "I told you I can't drive! I'm 93 years old! I drove to mass and shut off the ignition in the parking lot and that was it." "Wow. That's amazing." "The carnival's on KDKA now, just started." "What are you doing now?" "Whoever I can." "Oh."

He was coloring with us, I kept hit picture. He just wrote:

"The liffof I I Rifof didn't I Do I do not driv Seve"

Joe

Joe is the most violent. Joan likes to hold hands with anyone who will hold hers, and you have to watch that Joe doesn't hold her hand, because he'll squeeze until he crushes it and he gets very angry and fustrated. He doesn't speak often but when he does...well, he's a funny guy.

"No, no, Joe, you can't go out there." *run to the door*"Is that the flight?" "Yeah." "Oh." "But it's closed now." "oh, is it?" "Yes." "really?" "They told me so." "Oh." "Sorry." "That's alright." "Maybe tomorrow." "Okay." "Let's go back." "Alright then."

***

"Please let go of her hand." "I told you we can't pay you!" "This isn't the right one. (Joan)" "Now, I mean it!" "Joe, please let go, you're hurting her" "I KNOW I AM!" "This one is better." "I'm calling the supervisor." "JOE, LET GO OF HER! (supervisor)." "Come here, Joan, sweetie." "JOE, LET GO OF HER." *tears hands apart* *Joe raises his hand to strike me* "Don't. You. Dare."

It's interesting.

Cleaning - 2.0!

2006-05-22T21:01:00.002-04:00

Well, now my brother has finally jumped on the cleaning wagon since we're getting out of here soon. And he found this poem that we both wrote. I don't know how long ago we wrote it, why we wrote it, to be honest: I don't even remember writing it, but apparently we did because it's in my handwriting. I'm not even sure why I'm sharing this besides the fact that it is absolutely ridiculous and something only my brother and I would do in our spare time...Perhaps during a day when we were sent to our rooms and had nothing better to do. So many questions surrounding the creation of this inspired poetry, and no way to answer them. Here it is, folks. Genius at it's best. I swear this was created due to our father's contribution to the gene pool...

I Have A Butt..

By Mark & me

I have a butt that's made of tin!

Nobody knows what shape it's in!

Every time I sit down,

my butt makes a sound!

I have a butt that's made of steel!

Every time I poop it comes out teal!

Every time that I go potty,

I can't believe it comes outta my body!

I have a butt that's made of gold!

I'm not sure exactly how old.

Every time I pull down my pants,

someone asks: 'How much was that?'

I havea butt that's made of flesh!

I think it's a real mess!

Every time I take my seat,

My butt goes "squish",

It's really neat!

I guess it's good that my brother and I even th ought to write a poem....We could have been playing video games....

Right?

...Right?

*crickets chirp*

Well! Back to packing it is, then!

Stories and Dreams and a Night on the Town

2006-05-16T18:16:00.000-04:00

I'm singing 'The Last 5 Years', I really love it. Thanks Miss Katherine for introducing me so long ago!

My friend and I were talking online a few nights ago, and we both were in a writing mood. So we gave each other topics (haha, actually, the topic was I wrote about him and he wrote about me in some fictional sense). So here's his, he wrote two very short ones:

TITLE

Alicia was a strong-willed brunette. She was Italian and she was damned proud of it. She was also a bit of an attention whore, but hey, that comes with being a theater major.

Anyway, one sunny day Alicia stepped outside of her dorm and stretched her arms. A shadow fell over her, and she was suddenly trampled by a Tyrannosaurus.

The whereabouts of the large carnivorous dinosaur are currently unknown. Perhaps one day the prehistoric reptile will be brought to justice.

Stargazing

At 8:00 the curtain opens and Alicia starts singing the show's first ballad. It's 8:15 before Paul hurries down the aisle and takes a seat in the front row. He hopes the actress doesn't notice.

Outside, the stars this night are especially bright. Paul, who was walking to the theater, had slowed down to admire them. He was fascinated by stars, always had been. He had given up wishing on them a long time ago, but seeing so many of the white pinpricks still put his mind at ease.

The girl on the stage is a star. Paul watches Alicia with her dark hair pulled back and her green eyes flashing up toward the stage lights. Her eyes flicker down to him for a moment and swing back up to the ceiling. He squirms in his seat.

Earlier there had been a fight with Alicia, harsh words yelled over the phone. Paul crosses his arms and repeats the words of her song in his head as her music flows over him like the stage light. She hadn't spoken to him since the argument.

He hadn't meant anything of the things he had said. Initially he had wondered why he even cared, they weren't even dating. Seeing her shimmer on the stage, he knew how foolish that was.

Watching the stars on the way to the theater, Paul had wondered if wishes could come true. He clenched his fists and made one, then bowed his head and walked faster until his legs hurt.

When the show ends, Paul waits for Alicia backstage, unsure of how she'll react when she sees him. She delights him by rushing to him and taking his arm.

Outside the sky is still cool and clear. Alicia sees his head turned upwards and squeezes his hand.

"How can there be so many stars in the sky?" she asks him.

Paul looks down at her green eyes. In the darkness, in the street light, she is ethereal, musical. Might she fade away like the melody of a lingering song? Maybe that's what makes her so beautiful.

"Well?" she asks.

"I think," Paul says, "it's because there's a star out there for everyone."

Close curtain.

And mine - I'm long-winded:

Like In Movies

The rain poured from down from the iron gray sky, as if God had decided to dump His vast oceans on the suburbia below. It's the kind of rain you could be kissed in, she said. Like in movies, you know? When they had been warm and safe, watching it from her bedroom window, he nodded and smiled. He loved those kinds of movies. She was a hopeless romantic. He was a dreamer. They would be a good pair if they could ever get their timing right. wasn'trently, her heart wasn't there and his timing wasn't right. Again. He sighed and looked up. Very funny, he thought. Whether it was a prayer to God or just to tdidn'tarma of the day, he didn't know. He continued to walk down the street in his hooded sweatshirt and jeans, wondering what had brought him here and how he could have changed the events leading up to this moment.

***

Months ago he had been sitting in a class he was forced to take for his psychology major. He hated every moment of it and she was bored out of her mind. Why are we even in this class? It's pointless. I could teach it better than this moron, she had said to her friend across the aisle. He came back to earth from the momentary "space-out" session. The teacher had that affect on a several students. He looked at her and had to agree. If you were teaching, we'd probably pass our tests. Half the class couldn'tling right now, so you couldn't hurt anything. She informed him that she was doing just fine, thank you very much. He remembered seeing a lot of test grades on her desk that had set the curve for most of the exams he scrapped by on. After a few more classes filled with small-talk, and poor marks, she was tutoring him.

***

I just don't get it. My brain doesn't work this way. He threw his book across the rdoesn'tnd stared at her. This doesn't have anything to do with helping people, that's all I want to do. And I sure as hell won't get any stories from it. She laughed lightly and teased him. A creative writing major and a psychology major? And you can't find anything creative in all this technical mumbo-jumbo? Come now, there must be a story here somewhere. He rolled his eyes; he didn't care about this junk anymore. She could see himwasn'ttting down; the information just wasn't processing at two in the morning. She would have to try a different way. It was time to be bold; after all, his grade was at stake here. Or so she kept telling wasn'telf to convince her head that she wasn't just following her heart illogically. Not that logic and the heart have ever mixed. Here, look at it this way. She bent down and gathered his scattered notes and crumpled text book. If the stimulus is a kiss, what would the natural reaction be? He didn't know, he didn't even understand the question. And this was supposed to be based off of the basics! He shrugged and looked to her, waiting for an answer. She leaned towards him and gently kissed his lips. He kissed back. After a moment, she pulled away. Laughing, she remarked in a tone she used only when teaching, That's correct... That would be the stimulus...and the response. Smiling, he leaned in towards her and whispered I think I'm getting it now.

***

A whirlwind of dating and laughter, with a pinch of good movies and sweet moments made the remaining time at school fly by. Summer was going to start and they lived far enough away that it would be a problem when neither of them had access to a car. I'm sorry, I just can't do it. I want to, but I can't. She was on perched on the edge of his futon, crying and explaining how she really wanted to be with him for the summer, but bewouldn'tof the way her heart worked, she knew it couldn't end well if they did it that way. He couldn't understand it. This can work, love makes it work. If it's supposed to be, it will be alright. His words usually comforted her, his dreams and his fervent, passionate belief about what was ‘meant to be’, but that day they just broke her heart more. She wasn’t being reasonable. Hadn’t they been through so much together? How could a little thing like distance separate them? We can still talk, online, on the phone, email, whatever. But - we're going to be just friends this summer. I want to be your friend. When we come back next fall, we'll see where it goes from there, but please, respect this. Can we just... be friends? He gave in. It was better than losing her completely. She stood up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and a hug, and walked out the door. He listened to its' quiet click, signifying she had shut it behind her and he was unable to move. Funny, the way the heart works.

***

It was just going to be a visit. To see what would happen, to be friends and meet up. Her parents were at work, he had the car for a few days. She wasn't expecting him. He wasn't even sure if this was the right house. He ran towards the shelter of the front porch as rain drops exploded on the pavement around him. Above the rush of water and wind, he heard the doorbell chime faintly. A dog barked and ran towards the front door. She mentioned she had a black lab once, when they were walking through a park and saw a little girl in a yellow sundress walking a golden retriever that would have been taller than him if it stood on its hind legs. The wind blew harder and he remembered he was on a wet porch, not in a sunny park. The lock snapped open, the door swung backwards, and she squealed, rushing at him and wrapping him in a tight hug. You're here! I can't believe you're here right now! He inhaled, drawing in the smell of her hair - roses and mint. She led him inside, closing the door on the ferocious weather and gave him a grand tour of the house. They ended in her bedroom, which was cramped and full of childhood memories. Pictures of her younger self, key chains, collages, and old birthday cards filled her bulletin boards. Posters of the Backstreet Boys, Winnie the Pooh and Psalm 139 were plastered onto her ceiling, and could be seen reflecting in the gigantic dresser's mirror. They sat on her bed, talking about what they had been doing with their time off, mentioning regrets of not keeping in touch as much as they promised. He kissed her. She kissed back. Stimulus and response, he thought, grididn'tg.

***

She didn't mean it. She said it, but she didn't mean it. Well if that's the way you feel..., he wasn't about to stay there if she was going to say things like that. He started it, but she just took it to a new level. She was already crying. I hate when we fight, I can't stand this. Why did you come here at all? He can't remember what started this particular argument; they were having such a nice time in her room, talking and remaining. He lashed back at her. The cruelty and unthinkinwouldn'ts pushed emotionswouldn'tcalate. She asked him to leave. He said he wouldn't come back; he wouldn't talk to her anymore. That's your loss. Not mine. She refused to sit there and have her heart stepped on. It was hard enough to decide that their friendship was more important than their relationship two months ago. I had to make that decision; he was blind to what it would mean if we carried on the way we had. Now he decided to pull this crap? I don't have the strength. She shook her head as he walked out of the room. He was boiling mad. Their biggest problem was also their greatest attraction to each other; they similar in love and tempedidn'the stood at the top of the stairs as he slammed the door behind him. He didn't go to his car, he needed to think, needed to walk, needed to go and not look back and not worry about the consequences for a minute. Can the world give me just five minutes? Please!? Lightening struck, and he could hear her mutt barking at the sound of electricity's pulsing boom echoing across the neighborhood.

***

He had been walking around the residential area chock-full of nicely placed cult-de-sacs and housing plans for sixty-three minutes. A spider web of beautiful two story houses complete with three car garages and white picket fencing led him back to the top of her street. The rain water soaked through his hoodie and he could feel small rivers squelching in his shoes. As he approached her house, he day dreamed of ringing her doorbell a second time and admitting his mistakes. He stood on the lawn of her house for a moment. He was hoping she would run out and kiss him, like girls did in movies, while the rain fell down around them, closing them off into a world of their own. He could make her dinner and she could dry his clothes and they could stay up talking until dawn. He raised his head to sky, feeling the water washing away the last remains of anger and frustration. His eyes fall on her bedroom window, and he sees the curtains swinging back into place, as though just a moment ago someone had been watching from behind them. After he finally backed his jalopy out of the driveway, he slowly passed her house, and at the last second he noticed her lying on the front lawn, staring at the sky. He stopped the car, and lay down next to her. After counting the one hundredth drop of rain to touch his skin, he inhaled deeply. He wanted to make it better, to say anything, to make her smile. His eyes focused intently on her face.

I'm sorry.

I know.

She reached for his hand, and he allowed his fingers to become entwined with hers, as they lay in the grass, staring up towards space.

So that's that. I need to make a file of all the stuff I write.

I had a strange dream this morning. Not last night, I woke up and saw it was morning, but decided to roll over and fall back asleep. I had my room all set up for me in Hickory Hall, where I'm going to be an RA next year. Except it was a hotel room. And Michelle and Jenny were there. I don't know what was going on but everyone from my circle at school was at the library - which was, ironically my old Andh school building. I talked to my friends, I did some stuff for residents...and then I starteAndo walk to the library under the facade of my high school. And it exploded...and so then I ran in to help people, and the downstairs was fine, only the upstairs was bad, and my grandmother (my dad's mom, who was a nurse for a while) was there and she told me to get this or that. I used her cell phone to call my mom and tell her I was fine but I had to help residents so I couldn't come home and I didn't know where anyone was besides Jen and Michelle. I was crying and helping people and my mom couldn't understand why I was so upset.

It was weird.

I woke up and I've been in a weird mood. So I'm singing musical songs.

Last Thursday Josh came to visit. That was very fun. We went to the Andy Warhol Muesum. There was one room with silver balloons shaped like pillows (life size), and a bunch of fans blowing them around. It was very cool. There was this one picture I looked at and it was ambiguous and I kept trying to decide all the different things it could be. I asked Josh what he thought it was and when he said one of the things I had came up with, I had to smile. We took pictures on his phone and in one of the mini photo booth things you put three dollars into. Then we went to Station Square. Ate and talked and then stopped by Michelle's for Halyse's birthday.

Good times.

I kinda wish I knew what I was doing. But that's life.

We're moving in a week or two.

I have an audition on Sunday afternoon.

That's my story.

The end.

Cleaning

2006-05-08T18:33:00.000-04:00

We've been cleaning our house, picking what we're keeping and what we're tossing because we're moving (not far, we're staying in the school district so that little Mark can be with his friends, etc). I can't believe how much stuff I have. I've trashed a LOT of it, and the rest I'm going to attemp give to Good Will. Anyone want a purple lava lamp?

I don't blame you.

I found two rather entertaining pieces of writing in my desk. The first is a list I wrote out to my mother about why I should be allowed to go over Michelle's house last year over Christmas break when my Dad was in the hospital. I did something or other to tick her off and I wasn't going to be allowed to go over and I'd have to sit with my mom in the waiting room or something, so I wrote her this to ask her if I could go...

Why I Would Like To Go To Michelle's Today

1. Because all of my imaginary friends are on vacation, so I should probably find my real ones out.

2. Because my lack of sleep could potentially cause myself, along with my easily influenced little brother, to become extremely hyper, thus...

3. Because I could become extremely loud and giggly

4. Because drawing four arrows on a piece of paper, taping them to the floor, and jumping on them just isn't the same as playing DDR.

5. Because I made a copy of the Toby Mac CD and it's a better alternative to a lot of Rap Michelle listens to. And besides...

6. What am I going to do with another copy of a CD I already have. Speaking of CD's...

7. Jen will be there and I have a CD for her too. Again...

8. What does one do with several copies of the same CD if they can't give them to their (real) friends?

9. Not to mention the fact that I haven't even seen Jen since she told us she was sick and

10. If I could just see her I'd know she was okay.

11. Because I don't like hospitals, even though the one Dad is in is nice, I really hate them.

12. Because I don't think I could handle concentrated worrying and imagining the negative for six hours straight.

13. Because when I need some space, I can't go over a friend's house for coffee or run over to church like you can and...

14. I've been with you and the rest of the family for 13 days...

15. Which is 412 hours...

16. Or 24, 720 minutes...

17. Also known as 1, 453, 200 seconds and...

18. That's a lot.

19. Because when else am I going to get to meet Michelle's boyfriend and let her know if he's okay or not? You said that it was important for your friends to like and get along with your boyfriend because...

20. People get married to their high school sweethearts...

21. And what better way for me to see if this guy is okay than to go and spend a whole day with him

22. Because you and dad said everyone should get one mistake a year without consequences, and in Feb. Was mine, but couldn't I take mine for 2005 now? It's only a few days away as it is.

23. Because Michelle, and Indu, and Halyse, and Jen, and them are real friends, not the fake kind of people who pretend to love you and be a friend but then turn around and hurt you, like a lot of kids I know at NA.

24. Because how many people did you know in high school who would love you for who you are, not hate you for who you're not?

25. Because if I actually took the time to write this you know that these people are really something special.

26. Because honestly, no one plays hide-and-go-seek as often as they should.

27. Because it feels good to be included

28. Because I'll miss out on memories

29. Because we're all going to leave in six months and then we'll have a hard time getting together after we go to college.

30. Because even Mary couldn't stay angry at Jesus when He was a kid

31. Because you know your true friends when they read the black board for you in gym because you can't see without your contacts and you took them out to swim

32. Because real love is un -conditional

33. Because I had enough sense to approach this in a mature manner after I cooled off

34. Because when your a bad dancer, you can play DDR, and laugh with your friends instead of being laughed at for looking dumb

35. Because Michelle and everyone else at the party lift you up instead of bring you down

36. Because you learn from experience and...

37. Because then I could learn how to be social with people I don't know because...

38. There are going to be some girls from Butler (Michelle's boyfriend)'s school I won't know and I'm painfully shy when I don't know anyone but because I'll know some people and they'll help me get over it

39. Because my hair is behaving today and not showing it would be a waste

40. Because I came up with 40 reason why, all of them are good, and no matter what, I love you and even though it doesn't mean anything to you, I'm still sorry.

Talk about Catholic/Italian guilt. I did get to go out and it was fun. I found that and thought 'I should post that', for whatever reason.

The other thing I found was a little more intellectual. It's a valley girl's take on Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven

One Night At Home

Once upon a time (note the original beginning!), a man was sitting alone in his house. Well, he like hears this noise and wonders what it is. However, since he's reading in front of the fire, trying to forget his lost love, he, y'know, pays no attention to it. He's afraid of strange noises, so he convinces himself that it must be somebody out WAY past curfew who's come to see him. Well, uh, he takes a deep breath, gets up from his chair, and slowly approaches the door, finally opening it. And he sees like NO ONE! After peering out into the darkness, and listening to the silence, he whispers, 'Lenore?' (She was the fox he was hittin' on.) Well, he gets no answer, so he like goes back inside. And now he hears a sound at the window! So he goes over to the aforementioned window and opens the shutter, not knowing what to expect: a guy with a gun? A weirdo? Who could know? Well, you'll never guess what it was: it was like this bird, all big and black, that just flew right in, right across the room, and landed on a statue he had in the room. Now you know about birds and statues, right? My man is getting really nervous now! So he says to the bird, "What's your name and why are you sitting on this statue in my room?" And the bird, who of all things could talk, goes, "Nevermore." Now the guy knows he heard the bird clearly, but he says to himself, "Self, what's up with this 'Nevermore' name?" Then he figures, "Hey, there've been so many others come and go in my life, I ain't sweatin' you, Dude. You'll be outa here soon, too." But our friend the bird hears him, and says, "Nevermore." Then the guy figures that this bird must've learned this "Nevermore" rap from like a previous owner, and all is chilll. He figures, "I'm all right with this; I wish Lenore could be here to see it!" The problem is, Lenore is gone and isn't about to be on no return flight, cause it's like The Big Gone! (She ain't breathin', man.) But since the bird is remidin' him of this lost filly, he asks it to stop. Guess what the bird says? Yep, "Nevermore." OK, OK. "Tell me this then," says our poor-just-sitting-there-minding-his-own-business-when-the1800's-version-of-a-phone-solicitor (that's the bird) came-to-interrupt-him-guy, "will I at least get to see her in heaven?" Now the bird is getting really nasty, 'cause once again h e replies, "Nevermore!" Well, that was the last French Fry in the bag, I mean, now the guy has had it! No more Mr. Niceguy! He tells the bird to get out, right down to the last feather! But the bird ain't budgin', as he says, "Nevermore." And to this day that bird is sitting there haunting the poor, sad, demoralized guy; a loser in the game of life; the end.

Well, I found it funny. But I'm a dork, so there you have it!

Have a spectacular day!

Freshman Year Of College: PWNED

2006-04-25T18:22:00.000-04:00

Here are a few tidbits of things I'd like to say about college since I've gotten through my first year and a bunch of you who read this are getting ready to go to some university or another once fall comes around. Get ready for this, folks. It's long.

THINGS I'VE LEARNED AFTER FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE:

- You'll go into it either having a plan or having no idea what you're doing. I went into it with a plan. Around November, I changed my plan and you know what? That's ok. Have the guts to say to your parents: Mom, dad, I don't want to be a psych. major. I want to major in Theater and I want to stay at the campus I'm at all four years, not transfer after two.

- And if you have no idea what you want to do: that's ok too. Don't wait until your junior year to declare a major but don't rush into one and end up taking all the wrong classes when you realize what you REALLY wanted to do.

- When they tell you a final exam is cumulative: they're not just saying that for kicks and giggles. You can't study one night before a final and expect to get a good grade on it.

- Going to a branch campus doesn't suck, isn't something to be ashamed of, and doesn't mean you're incompetent.

- Join something AS SOON AS YOU GET THERE! Audition for a show or work backstage, join the newspaper, radio or TV station, literary magazine, campus ministries, international basket weaving team...SOMETHING! My best friends I met through the musical...God really blessed me that way.

- You'll fall for someone unexpected. You won't believe your heart when it tells you that you like that girl/boy...Believe it. They'll end up changing the way you look at people.

- Yup. It's true. People smoke, drink, and have promiscuous sex in college. And sadly, it's not uncommon, it's not made into a 'big deal'. That doesn't mean it's not, though.

- Skip the frat/sorority houses on weekends. Yes, there are some great people there: but on weekends when the Jungle Juice or Red/Blue/Purple Death come out, I'd say that the people you want to be with won't be around there anyway.

- And for the record: never drink anything with the name 'death' in the name. That can only end badly...I know a few people who can confirm that statement from experience.

- Anyone who pressures you to drink, have sex, or smoke something isn't your friend. I know people who do all three of those things (not simultaneously, as far as I can tell) but none of them have ever made me feel as if I had to do those things to stay friends with them.

- You'll be surprised how many people respect your virginity/sobriety/faith. While they might tease you about it, they'll also look you in the eye and respect you for it.

- Don't take 18 credits first semester. Don't do it. You don't have to. You have four years (or more!). I mean this: DO NOT TAKE 18 CREDITS FIRST SEMESTER. 12 is too little, 18 is too much...Start with 15. You can see how you handle that and grab more or less second semester. Did I mention that you should NOT take 18 credits first semester? Because I don't recommend it.

- Let me clear something up about the whole 'drink' thing. If you didn't pour it yourself, don't ingest it. Period. Date rape drugs exist, people use them, and that really bites...But it's true. I'm not saying that to scare you, I'm saying it because you ARE new at this school and you DON'T know anyone really well yet.

- Make eye contact and say 'hello' to people walking by. If you see someone sitting by themselves at a meal, go up to them and introduce yourself. Then ask if you can join them. Get to know them. Be nice to the cafeteria workers, custodial staff, etc. You are no better or worse than anyone.

- Your teachers are either 'Professor' or 'Doctor'...Not 'Mr./Ms./Mrs.' Get used to it. Even the teacher without a doctorate deserves to be referred to as professor. It's a respect thing.

- Just because you're good at a subject doesn't mean you can coast. You owe it to your professors, but even more to yourself to give it your all, even if it's easy. Don't give half-efforts on anything. You're better than that.

- Yes! You really can go to your 8am class in your pjs. No one's awake enough to care, anyway.

- Another student will be better than you at what you love. Learn from them and befriend them, don't automatically reject them or hate them because you're no longer the best.

- You have the right to disagree with a teacher. However, if you can't present your argument intelligently: forget it. You'll be shut down. They've been here longer, have heard it before, and don't take any crap.

- You don't HAVE to go to class. That's great, sort-of. You can choose to skip class if you want. Try to avoid it. When you look at how many times you actually have to be there, it's a lot less than high school and teachers do know when you show up and when you don't.

- Rahman Noodles, Facebook, and caffeine will be come staples in your life. Don't fight it.

- All-nighters are bound to happen, especially during finals week. Staying up until 6am studying for a Short stories In Context class is MUCH more fun when you're with other people. Group all-nighters are great...And if you make a 'no talking' rule, you get a lot more done.

- Chances are, you'll work your way into a close circle of 10 or 20 people and then have a bunch of friends outside of that group that you enjoy, but aren't 'family' like that close circle. Let me tell you what: you will date each other. You will date your best friend's ex-boyfriend. They will date your old crush. It's BOUND to happen when you are in such a close-knit group. Stay honest and don't talk behind anyone's back. Less drama happens that way.

- Gossip and rumors fly. Don't give into it if you can help. Listen but don't repeat information. You'll end up knowing the most about everyone and not hurting anyone.

- Getting a tutor for a class you have trouble in is a GOOD idea. Don't wait until a week before the final to get one. If you get a D on the first test, go to the Academic Support Center and sign up.

- Good Will and Salvation Army (Sal Val) beat the mall any day of the week.

- If someone breaks your heart, the best remedy I've found is: Cry to a friend, eat a bowl of ice cream, go to sleep. The next morning: dress up in the outfit you look best in and be the most outgoing and self confident person you can be.

- For every month you've been dating someone, you get one day of pouting. That's it. Take it, use it, and then move on. Someone else has had a crush on you the entire time, anyway.

- Shower. Brush your teeth.

- It's ok to blow off studying for an hour to have a snowball fight and get hot chocolate after. In ten years it won't matter what you got in Trig, but you will remember tackling your best friends in the snow.

- Pick your battles wisely. Some things are better if you just let them go, other things you have to speak up on. There's a fine line and I'll be damned if I've figured out the balance yet.

- The RA's are just doing their job. The walls in the dorms are paper thin and they can hear you when you say 'Oh GAWD, it's an RA...Hide the booze.' We're not deaf. I swear.

- Do three things that you'd never do if you were home.

- CALL YOUR MOTHER! She misses you. Once a month should do it.

- Check in with your younger/older siblings. The older one's can help you with the whole college transition deal and the younger one's can keep you updated on 'what's what' at home. Keep interested in their school work, and their life in general...It's ok to be friends with your kid brother. (My little brother and I's relationship has improved greatly since I've been at school).

- Inevitably, the computer will crash the night before the paper you've worked on for six hours is due. Get a USB stick and know the computer lab's night hours...Hard core.

- You're going to get into more bands and music than you've ever known. Don't be close-minded about your music. There's some great stuff out there.

- Ask questions in class. You're paying to be there.

- Don't wait until the night before to do a ten page paper.

- You're friends are right down the hall. That can be the best or worst thing in the world.

- Learn to say you're sorry and admit when you're wrong. It takes a really big person to do that.

- Go to church every Sunday. I know you don't have to, no one is making you...But do it. Your spiritual well-being depends on it. If you can find someone as into their faith as you are yours, awesome! Keep them close, pray with them, talk to them about your faith...Not many other people can, will, or want to do that with you. If you get involved with campus ministry or even a local church, those people will find you and you'll find them.

- You don't know everything.

- You don't have to love your roommate, you just have to live with them.

- Get to know your teachers. They're really cool PEOPLE...Not just god's who stand at a blackboard three times a week. If you google them, you'll find books they've written and research they've conducted. It's pretty darn spiffy.

- Denny's and Eat'N'Park are open all night. Take advantage of that.

- spontaneous road trips are fantastic. Go on them.

- Try to get six hours of sleep a night...Please? You'll just function better.

- Surprise someone with something nice. Do a random act of kindness. It may be the only good thing that happens to that person that day.

- You'll get writers block. Walk away from whatever you're doing for an hour and then come back to try again.

- You ARE cut out for college. You wouldn't be there if you weren't.

- Take yourself seriously. If YOU don't, no one else will.

- Exercise. Not insanely or fanatically...But just an hour three times a week is better than never.

- You are not 'in it' alone. You're with hundreds of other freshman and thousands of former freshman. Don't stress out.

- Do laundry. For God's sake, do laundry.

- If you lend stuff out, be careful who you give it to. You may never see it again.

- Don't cheat.

- Bring your stuffed animal with you.

- Get three to ten hugs a day.

Well, that's what I've got. Feel free to ask questions or add your own.

HAPPY EASTER!

2006-04-13T20:56:00.000-04:00

*starts singing*

Jesus is life, yeaaah, woooah-oooh-oh-oh! The air I'm breathin', why my heart is beatin'...Jesus is liiiife.

(Name that tune)

And leave a sprited comment full of...spirit!

At least I know I'm going about the whole major thing correctly...or so this online quiz told me!

2006-03-23T00:07:00.000-05:00

You scored as Theater. You should be a Theater major! Like a bohemian actress, you are seasoned and confident and not afraid to express yourself!

Theater

100%

Art

83%

Dance

83%

English

83%

Sociology

83%

Journalism

75%

Philosophy

67%

Linguistics

50%

Anthropology

50%

Mathematics

33%

Psychology

33%

Biology

25%

Engineering

17%

Chemistry

17%

What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3)
created with QuizFarm.com

From the LiveJornal of the beautiful and faithful Sarah!

2006-03-21T16:48:00.000-05:00

Put your music player on random, and ask these following questions, press next when you've finished each question and fill it out. NO CHEATING.

(I'm using my ITunes on Party Shuffle.)

Song - Artist.

How does the world see me?:
Without Love – Hairspray Original Broadway Cast Recording

(Wow, really?)

Will I have a happy life?:
One Week – Bare Naked Ladies

(Better than never!)

Do people secretly lust after me?:
One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces –Ben Folds Five

(That doesn't even make sense)

How can I make myself happy?:
Disenchanted Lullaby – Foo Fighters

(Interesting)

What should I do with my life?:
Testimony – Scott Free/ EV music

(Rock on! :-D)

Will I ever have children?:
Fallible – Blues Travelers

(No one's kids are perfect, though)

What is some good advice for me?
Everything is Alright – Motion City Soundtrack

(Thank heavens!)

How will I be remembered?:
Seasons of Love – Rent Broadway Musical Cast Recording

(That's pretty sweet)

What is my signature dancing song?:
Act 1 “Dear Reader…” – How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying (The New Broadway Cast) Recording

(That doesn't fit...then again, I can't dance so maybe it does)

What do I think my current theme song is?:
Gone for Good – The Shins

(I like it, but I'm not sure what it means/how it pertains to my life)

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?:
Roxanne – The Police

(Only half sure about this one, too)

What song will play at my funeral?:
I’m Not Wearing Underwear Today – Avenue Q Original Broadway Cast Recording

(I laughed out loud for this one)

What type of men/women do you like?:
The Likes of You Again – Flogging Molly

(Holy Inaccuracy!)

What is my day going to be like?:
Matter of Time - Cartel

(Oy...my day was better than that!)

Anyone have an opinion of what song describes me best?

And in the news today!

2006-03-03T22:43:00.000-05:00

A few random accounts of life and living.

I'm an RA. Surprise! I have my own room! Hurrah!!!! Yay! Rock on. Fun times! No, really, I like it a lot. I'm with a great staff who are becoming really good friends to me. I'm learning a whole heck of a lot and enjoying every minute of it. I can't wait to do my programs!

I was casted in Golganooza. It's a play festival that is student written, directed, and acted in. It's free to all who want to see it. There are four shows this year and all of them are hilarious. I was one of three girls chosen - what an honor! I hope I can live up to all that will be expected of me. I'll just do my best. We'll see what happens, but with great talent like Andy and Kevin, they're bound to make me look good. The creative directing talents of Josh and the humor written by Brandon: it's just a great blend. Oh! And it's the first Golganooza musical ever! Rock on.

someonekissedmetonight.andikissedback.

I've been reading a lot of good plays lately. It's a fun time. I end up reading for leisure and then not doing my school work. I'm not terribly behind, but I'm not on top of things ,either. I just keep doing what I can, even though it's not always my best work. I really do love reading, and it's a shame one doesn't have more time to do it in college. There are too many teachers assigning text book pages instead of really GOOD books.

My aunt passed away. :(

So my friends threw me a surprise party. A big one. It was a facebook party, too. It said:

'She's sweet, she's kind, she's talented, and she's 19. Help us celebrate the waning teenage days of everyone's little bit of Italian joy, Michelina! RSVP as soon as possible if you can. Talk to Kevin or Paige, write, call, send up a smoke signal, morse code, something. She'll be there at 8, so get there reasonably earlier than that. We hope to see you there! Michelina sure does. Well she would, heh, you know ... if she knew you were coming.'

I was shocked. Totally floored. I couldn't believe it. I was very happy. I think I was too surprised to cry. They decorated Hickory's lobby and had a huge cake and everyone was there! Residents, staff, theatre kids, Hemmy hall kids, llc kids...the list goes on and on. I was supposed to be on duty, but I had rehearsal and Kate took over for me for the first hour. I came back and saw the lights were off in the lobby. I remembered an RC was doing a program. I saw the lights on in the wings, so I thought 'they blew a fuse, the power went out, I'm supposed to be on duty, and this was one of my questions when I was interviewed, I need to find Liz...' I voiced this concern to Kevin, who said 'well, I'm coming in with you to see what's going on'. Ok. Walk in: BAM! Holy crap. Amazing.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH. I am so blessed with friends.

I! Am going to watch Reefer Madness 'the movie musical' now. Good night :)

Tattoo, Red Lion Rent, and Little Known Holiday Super Bowl Fun

2006-02-06T17:17:00.000-05:00

Tattoo

On Tuesday, January 31st (my friend Jessica, who I've known since preschool ... Wow, fifteen years is a long time to know somebody) - I went to Matthews Party tattoos and Piercing Parlor ... And got a tattoo. It's a rose, it's about two inches big, and it's on my lower back. I LOVE it. I was very concerned for two big reasons:

1. NO ONE in my family knows (except for my cousin, who I told after having it for five hours...He lives in CA and promises not to spill)

2. I was scared it would hurt like hell.

I think the only thing I could say (and I said it repeatedly) before I got there were 'So. I'm getting a tattoo. And my mother doesn't know. And it's going to hurt like hell...' Everyone would say 'yup'. Katie and Kaitlin and Amanda went with me. Amanda actually came into the back room with me (only one person could go) and held my hands. I think I crushed her a little. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as I thought it would. And it's pretty. And simple. And something just for me. Hurrah! After I got it I had this conversation:

Kevin: Is this the only one you're getting?
Me: ahahaha yes
Kevin: Sometimes people get a rose, then they get addicted, then the rose becomes a garden, then the garden is met by a cottage, then it's in the mountains, and before you know it you're a walking Kinkaid painting.

Right. No Kinkaid coming anytime soon.

Red Lion Rent

Three of my friends here at school live in a small town near York called Red Lion. I heard about it a lot, I like the small town idea. I'm the kind of person who can live in a really big city or a really secluded area - but Suburbia is stifling. I wake up on Friday morning to see that I have gotten an instant message from a friend of mine who lives there and already had gone home for the weekend. It pretty much said that I needed to find a way to get my Italian butt out to Red Lion because Penn State York was hosting the Broadway Touring Cast of Rent. Rent's creator, Jonathan Larson started a tradition called 'Rush Tickets'. Two hours before curtain goes up, people can buy tickets for $20. And these aren't for the crappy seats - rush tickets are the first two rows specifically reserved for those who buy rush seats. Only two per person, and 32 seats saved ... That's amazing, yes, but difficult to get. In NY people line up the day before for them. The only thing stopping me from jumping in the car with Kaitlin and going to the Eastern side of the state was my mother, who was planning on coming to visit me here at school this past weekend. Being the considerate daughter I am, I called her in an attempt to ask if we could change our plans. She took it as my asking her permission to go on this excursion...Meaning I needed to tell her:

1. Who I was staying with (Kaitlin)
2. What kind of car she drives
3. What year the make was
4. How long she had been driving
5. How many siblings she had (no, I'm not kidding.)
6. What her home phone number was
7. And address
8. Social security number, drivers license, and resume

Maybe I'm exaggerating that last one a little bit. But just a little. After running around trying to contact my mom, Kaitlin, my mom, my mom, Kaitlin...I was almost allowed to go (which, I didn't ask my mother because I wanted permission, I was just trying to make sure I could change our plans), until mom insisted on talking to Kaitlin's mom. This was difficult since both of our mother's were working. After packing my suitcase while Kaitlin and Jesse (who was coming along for the ride) sat there waiting for my mom to call back and listening to me swear and decided that I was going with or without permission...I finally got the ok. So we hopped in the car and listened to Rent and I was QUITE excited.

I got to eat at Central Pizza - good stuff, and see how Kaitlin's family owned half the town, and a million other fun things. It's cool because they all grew up with each other. Kaitlin's family was having a get together for someone's birthday and all of us went over to say hello. It was hilarious, a lot of discussion about our future professions, computers, if I was an Italian Jew...Yeah. Good times.

The next day, Kevin and I went to sheetz, grabbed rations, and then took our food, our homework, and ourselves over to PSU York. We waited in line for about 8 hours. We took a huge Rent poster that was hanging up, because we were so early that no one was there yet and I really wanted it. It's hanging in my room!!! Then! Kevin left me in line because he had to go get a new laptop (he spilled some hobo jug wine on it - yeah they hippies try to make their own wine. Long story short, liquid in a computer doesn't work) , when this guy who's the director of the university theatre walked in and asked how long I had been in line, I told him an hour and a half and that the building was beautiful (it's only 6 months old) and I had never been there before. He asks if I want to see inside, so he unlocks it and lets me in and it's beautiful! Then he leaves and I ask the stage manager who's walking around where the actors leave the theatre and sign autographs after the show. She tells me, and Kevin comes back, and since no one is around STILL we go looking for it. WELL! Somehow we go through a wrong door and we end up BACKSTAGE!!!!!!! We're walking through and I'm trying not to have a freaking heart attack, so I keep looking around and it's awesome! I saw the costumes and the dressing room, and a bunch of people were working on stuff for the night's show but no one stopped us. So we walk all through backstage, no one bothers us - again, incredible! We finally ask how to get out to the main part of the building. Someone shows us and then when they're gone I FREAK OUT because we were backstage of RENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!And it was amazing. *phew*

So! Then we get in line and get our tickets, I go back to Kaitlin's, shower real fast,and we get there just in time to see it start. Kevin's mom came with us, she's really sweet. Our seats were Orchestra Pit Very First Row CENTER!!!! The show starts and the whole first act my jaw is pretty much on the floor and I'm smiling and it's amazing. During intermission I realized my face hurt from smiling so much, haha. Then the second act, Seasons of Love starts and I'm crying because it's really pretty and the guy playing Angel is standing right in front of me and so is the guy playing Roger. And they're BOTH singing right to me and smiling at me, but especially Angel. So I'm melting into a puddle in my seat thinking: 'oooooooh my gosh' . That was pretty cool. The whole second act was amazing, I cried for half of it. After the funeral scene I was sobbing really hard. Just - wow. Then at the end for the curtain call and such, Angel is in front of me again and he's smiling at me and it's fantastic.

Then! We run to where the actors are supposed to come out, and we're told it'll be a few because they're in a meeting. So Kevin goes to tell his mom we have to wait and as soon as he leaves the actors come out. Of course, right? I get all of their signatures, tell them it was the first time I saw it on stage, they were great, etc. And then Angel comes out and I was like 'can I have a quick autograph?' And he says 'Sure' and he looks at me and goes 'Oh! YOU were my favorite tonight'. And I was like 'really? Thank you so much,thank you, you were great' and he says 'no, thank YOU for giving me so much energy to do the second half of the show!' and I almost died. So he wrote 'keep beautiful michelina' in my program!!!!! AMAZING!!!!! So Sunday night I google-ed the guy and emailed him and I hope he writes back.

That's my Rent experience. Now, the freshman trip is to see it in NY and I'm in the drawing to go - they pick names on Monday night. Hopefully I'll be chosen, It would be such a blessing -the trip is only $50 and that's very cheap considering...I'd never have a change to go for such little money again.

Little Known holiday Super Bowl Fun

So the Steelers were in the Super Bowl. The game wasn't as exciting as I thought, though I didn't my fair share of yelling. The Rolling Stones were the half time show, and we thought it would be good -but no: lame. By the middle of the third quarter I was getting tired of it, no good new commercials, no good plays... So what do I do? I write all the random little known holidays for the next few months on the wall calendar by Chris's computer. His birthday was national hug day and something about granola? He was fated to be a hippie. Since the Steelers won, not many people went to school at my loving NA school district, so Dr. Green the most obnoxious and strict superintendent on the face of the planet - gave everyone the Tuesday off because the NA marching band was playing downtown. Haha, by little brother still had to get up early to go and play his fluty fluteness in Pittsburgh. Ah well, it was probably cool. Bandies. Good times. I still had to go to class, although Professor Webb did cancel Theory and Ear Training.

That's about where my story ends. *golf claps*

HEY MICKEY YOU'RE SO FINE, YOU'RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND!

2006-01-30T16:55:00.000-05:00

There are only three people in the entire world who can call me any variation of the name 'Mickey'.

The first is Scott. He started it last year when we were dating. To us, we were 'Miccy and Scotty'. But only to us. At first I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but now I relish in it. Even though we're just friends now, he's like a little brother and I love him to death. It's really funny how some people are just made to be friends. The shortest relationship I ever had ended the best way. He's a good kid with a huge amount of creative ability. Talking to him today, I found out he's going to be a secondary ed English major. That totally blew me away, but it fits him - thinking about it now. Pretty nifty how that works out. That child is goin' places.

Ali. I don't talk to her anymore. We sung in childrens choir at church about eight years ago. Since she was 'Ali', I suppose I naturally became 'Micki'. I was three years her senior and that was okay with us. Somehow we were still formed a special bond. Four years after the children's choir was long past, and she was trying out for Star Search while I kept up theater arts...She told me about her plans for suicide. I remember being very 'good' about it all. Sat down with our Youth Minister, talked, prayed, explained. I was strong and attentive and sensitive and as mature as possible for a sixteen year old hearing a friend would rather die. When I was finally dropped off at my own house, I broke down. The most frightening thing I had to experience was having the knowledge of someone's destiny resting (seemingly) on my shoulders.

The last would be Father Al Semler. He was the first parish priest I had when I moved from Philadelphia to the Pittsburgh area. He held my attention and started to get me interested in church. It's incredible what one person can do. He always called me Mickey and when he was re-assigned by the diocese, I remember being heartbroken. It taught me a good lesson in trusting God though, things that were good just keep getting better. He trained me as an alter server, too. Great stuff.

I don't like the nickname when most people call me it...It's obnoxious. I'm not a cartoon character, as much as I love Disney. But there are always certain people who can bend the rules.

Trading Stories

2006-01-17T18:23:00.000-05:00

So my friend and I exchanged sentences and then used them to write stories for each other. The first one is mine to my friend, then the line is the divider, the second one is my friend's to me. We're cool like this. Here it goes.

____________________________________________________________
"Blessed up and down but never satiated," he muttered under her breath. He wasn't listening, he rarely ever did. She continued to chatter about all of her problems and her life and her world, as though it was the only one that ever existed. She was so self centered -- self righteous, really. The way she claimed to have faith, but rarely showed it and then hated herself for it. The different times she was seeking attention by talking about things no one wanted to hear about in the first place. That's what she was doing right now. He couldn't stand it, if it wasn't for the fact that he was totally and completely captivated by her spirit.

The thing about her is that she hates being one of those people who doesn't practice what she preaches. But something is stopping her from being who she wants to be. Whoever that is. He started to put away the dishes as she dried them with the dishtowl that had the cherries printed on it. They matched the rest of the kitchen's red and white theme. The checkered curtains and the deep brown wooden table with it's picnic benches' were drenched in sunlight. The one sided chatter continued and he threw in an occasional 'mmhm', 'right', 'I know'...hoping she wouldn't notice his lack of utmost attention. His thoughts wandered, 'What would it be like to marry this girl?' He never would, mind you, but he wondered about it.

Where was life going? What direction would they take? Together or separate. It would be so much easier to see things laid out for them. Blessed up and down but never satiated. What did it take to show her how amazingly lucky she was? The world is full of people who can't see what's right in front of their eyes because they're too busy looking into the future or pondering the past. Instead of worrying about it all, get down on your knees more often. If she was so worried about it why didn't she pray more? Why don't any of us start praying more?

Blessed up and down but never satiated, God answers every prayer but doesn't always say 'yes'. The clouds started to cover the sun and the dishes were finished. He kissed her on the nose and asked if she'd join him for a walk. They went down the drive and dark clouds rolled across the sky. They were having a rare moment of silence. When they reached the top of the hill, the rain fell from weeping heavens and the ran for cover. He screamed a deep throated yell and picked her up. She tickled him and he threw his light spring jacket around her shoulders as they sprinted across the street. It was the kind of rain that is so sudden and hard and warm that you just want to look up and spin in a circle until you can throw yourself down into a field of grass. They pulled open the door of the first building they found and her glorious laughter rang and echoed.

Instinctively, he glanced over his shoulder. Empty. "It's been a long time. Why didn't I come here sooner?" she asked quietly, staring at him hard. He gently held her hands and lead her into a pew. They kneeled down and she started to cry, something about the incredible miracles and gifts and faith that were here and the fact that she ignors it always hit her soul. Blessed up and down but never satiated, "I'm not good enough," she whispered. He dried her tears and said "No one is. Just say 'thank you'."

____________________________________________________________

It had the potential to be beautiful. Well, rather 'he' than 'it' I suppose. No need in degrading it any farther, now is there? No, not really, but he's been suffering that type of objectification since the beginning. His father-not having a good beat bag to let loose into after work (his mother being deceased since forty-eight)-he was a smart man and he figured a way to fill the gap. Can't hear shit from the neighbors house if either of you have the windows shut, and here in Fargo, everyone does.

To see him at seventeen he's the same character. A real quiet kind of guy a real hand in pocket kind of guy, he'd never been too active with women. Never could read the faces and the moods quite the way the most of us can, so he'd never been too active with women, even to the point of his sexuality coming to question, but he didn't care enough to point it, no one cared nearly as much as him. This was still sufficient motive to justify the thrown stones from the churchyard. Wait, what do they say? In Fargo, everybody does.

Now the point of this whole mess isn't to ramble for most of this page on the nature of parental and phallic love, but to tell the entire story of his first romance. After a brief episode near the church, an episode I will not delve here because only he and the girl were there, and they chose to forget it entirely, he'd come to fancy a girl, and her him. A good thing really, but a nervous thing. A nervous thing on which he spent the customary (customary to an experienced creature of habit like her) three day period of silence after the initial expression of mutual affection pondering the possibilities.

Where is she? Has she fallen for someone else? Was it a lie? And as the guilty questioning turns to fearful proclamation. I'm very forgettable. My father would never like her. I'm not good for me, I can't be good for her? She's gone. On and on into the night and the day and the night and the day and the night and the morning of the eventual confrontation. She approached him with a poorly masked smile, compassionate towards the jaded and lonesome looking man before her. "Where is the glitter form your eye?" she asked him passionately. And he walked away, a forgotten man.

Carpe Diem.

2006-01-12T10:45:00.000-05:00

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Today I have:

- Writen with sidewalk chalk. More specifically, 'Give Someone A Hug Today! Carpe Diem' in front of Biddle, Blackington, and Krebs - the three buildings in the quad.

- Played with Play Dough (yellow and purple).

- Sung my heart out.

- Laughed really hard.

-Danced.

-Packed a bag for a road trip.

- Sorted out confusion and managed to keep a friend ( I think).

- Read a great story

- I've been told that I (and Rachel) "Live a charmed life, ladies"

- Pop-ed bubble wrap

-Been told I'm a 'hell of a kisser'

- Made plans

- Broken promises

- Eaten well

- Made memories.

- Decided to wear a skirt tomorrow.

- Lived today to it's fullest.

Carpe Diem, indeed.

Sometimes, You Only Learn Through Experience

2006-01-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, you can only learn through experience. I have learned this lesson more and more as time goes on. You see,

I have been there to console a friend when they have their family turned upside-down.
I have held them when they've cried and cried and had too much that Friday night.
I have listened to stories of working with physically or mentally disabled persons.
I have counseled others as they told me their heart's confusion as they've fallen in love.
I have watched companions turn into who they promised they would never be.
I have observed souls falling into confusion over why someone speak anything but the truth.
I have heard conversations where a word was never spoken between two people.
I have seen the results of one statement causing an uproar of laughter or anger.
I have watched sinners become saints.
I have seen the hurt, the joy, the love, the humor, the friendship, the faith, and life itself happen.

However, it is one thing to KNOW that life happens and quite another to actually live it. It is not living until I take part in it. And it isn't empathy until I know what something feels like first hand. Otherwise, it is as though you have seen a play about these emotions.

I am living when I know what it feels like to live in an unsettled household.
I am living when I have cried until I can't anymore, and my friends are still by my side, loving me.
I am living when I allow myself to be taught by children who cannot speak or move or play.
I am living when I see the view for the sky instead of the concrete fields.
I am living when I fall in love.
I am living when I realize I am not who I want to be and then I take an active stand to change that for the better.
I am living when I search for answers and ultimate truths because they make the biggest difference in the way I go about my life.
I am living when I have been lied to, when I have lied, when I discover what self preservation is versus what value the truth holds.
I am living when I have such a connection with a friend that we don't need to talk to have a discussion.
I am living when I am open to the fact that I am not called to be perfect, but I am called to be a saint.
I am living when I define who I am instead of waiting for others to define me.

When are you going to start?

Hello and Welcome!

2006-01-01T16:02:00.000-05:00

Hello all! Welcome to my blogspot. I find this quite intriguing and a lot of fun, and I was tired of Xanga. So for the year 2006, I've decided to start fresh. Xanga will still be used at times, if I feel so inclined. But really, I thought that blog was more of a high school gathering of thoughts, and I'm starting my second semester in college now - so I figured I would try something new. You know, something fun and a little different. I may just use it for my writing and not so much to say 'this is my life and everything in it!' Perhaps it will become a bit of both? Who knows. We'll see what comes of this, but I hope that it can be a reminder to me (and you) to 'hold onto hope' through the good times and bad.Happy New Year to all of you and welcome to my new blog!