In a Haze of Stormy Haze...

Song of the Day: 'Clocks', Coldplay

You know that feeling you get when you've just laid down in bed, your muscles have relaxed, you're wonderfully ensconced in your blankets, your pillow is just right, and it's like everything in the world now makes sense because it's time to go to bed? I've felt that way all day.

Minus the bed, blankets, pillow, and 'time to go to bed' bit.

ZERO ability to stay awake - in ALL FOUR CLASSES. That fuzzy warmth you get once you're wrapped up and your muscles are all jellyfied is certainly present - but unfortunately bittersweet because of the crippling lack of bed. And the actually being asleep part.

I've had a headache since about noon, and the only time it really went away was when I was super distracted because my friend was playing with my hair. Damn, that almost put me to sleep SO. BLOODY. FAST.

Man, even writing in all caps is taking it's toll.

The only reason I haven't gone to bed yet (besides the fact that it's only just after five) is because I am physically incapable of moving from this spot. I'm sitting in the design studio doing absolutely nothing save troll on the internet, and I can't bring myself to move in some way.

I mean, it wasn't a horrible day. It's not as if I accidentally slept through a midterm or missed something crucial from one of my classes (I don't think). We're finally doing computer drafting in drafting, so that'll be nice. No more late hours in the studio - just late nights on my computer, and I do that anyway. Stage management Rych played us an audio file of him calling a show, which was certainly interesting. It just gave me an icky headache and almost put me to sleep. Then on to Italian where I DID fall asleep, and then Shakespeare in which we watched a bit of Al Pacino's 'Merchant of Venice' (also with Joseph Fiennes, Jeremy Irons, Charlie Cox, Kris Marshall, and Mackenzie Crook, among others), which was nice.

I'm just feeling so lethargic. Ever since RENT ended I've had more time to do everything, but I haven't really been doing it. I mean, a few projects I've managed to stay on top of and get done a number of days in advance. But I've got a couple of big, important projects that are due at the end of the semester and I've done very little so far. Granted, I have at least a month to do them, but I'm essentially a professional procrastinator. I'm not sure I'll be able to do as well as I want to when I feel like this, which sucks because not only do I need to do super well because this determines whether or not I get into the BFA program, but I WANT to do well because I think I CAN do well and am kind of excited for the projects at all.

...Damn, that was a long sentence.

Anywhozlebees. I'll figure something out. I just need something to kickstart my drive. Which usually doesn't come until, at the EARLIEST, the week before the due date. Yaaaaaay....

'So if you ever feel neglected
and if you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
hoping everything's not lost...' - 'Everything's Not Lost', Coldplay

These So-Called Vacations Will Soon Be My Death

Song of the Day: 'The Atlantic Reels', Brian McNeill

Has the world just gone to shit a lot faster in the past few years, or am I simply more aware of the shit that happens?

This isn't going to be a rant of 'the world we live in' - I'm not politically savvy enough for a conversation of that caliber.

I was just wondering about the state of the world today and if it's always been this active.

I mean, I can't see how it's NOT always been like this. Not everything develops at the same rate as technology. Man, wouldn't that be a scary world.

I simply find myself in a - shall we say - more international frame of mind at the moment. Probably due to the excessive amount of celtic music I'm listening to. TowhichI'mlistening.

Fun fact: I ALWAYS want to spell frame with a 'ph'. I don't even.

Anywhozlebees. Things have happened. As they are wont to do. But I don't really go out looking for these things. I don't stay particularly in tune with the news and goings-on of the world. Which isn't to say it doesn't interest me and it would probably be a good idea to become more aware of the global state of things. But I get my jollies in other ways, thanks.

Ever so very rarely, I'll click on the 'News' icon in my Safari toolbar, and the amount of articles it says it has in little parentheses usually exceeds 300. And I'm not talking about the Kim Kardashian Wedding types of news (which, ironically, I know a lot more about than the Real World). I mean things like the governmental shit that's going down in Greece, the attacks in Nigeria, and the 'Syrian Forces Kill 27' articles. I can't pretend to fully comprehend everything that I read, but some of this shit is scary.

Mayhaps that's why I don't, usually. Not only does it make me fully aware of the real world stuff that happens outside of my little sphere, but it reminds me that my little sphere is, in fact, oh so very little. Which isn't to say that I don't like being reminded that I'm not the centre of my and my friends' worlds - a jolt of reality is good for people. It's just so very daunting to think that so much in the world goes on and you're rarely aware of it all. Even more so that you can do very little about it. If you even want to.

The amount of news I come across without even trying also leads me to wonder how much parents hide from their children. Which isn't to say that kids of a certain age would even be interested in world politics. I mean, 9/11 was a big deal and I knew that and respected that when I found out - I just don't recall if I really understood why. On the other hand, technology has increased majestically even within the last few years, and my access to technology has as well. With as much time as I spend on the internet, it makes sense that I would come across some of the things that don't always get brought up over family dinner.

I dunno, really. Just random musings.

*The chorus* - 'Scraping the Barrel', Shooglenifty

When Colin Firth Says 'Abhorrence' in 'Pride and Prejudice'...

Song of the Day: 'Resistance', Muse

I hate that my friends drink.

I hate that they sometimes think they need alcohol to have a good time.

I hate that after a night of fun and camaraderie working a show I go back to my room and feel more alone than ever, because all of my friends are out getting drunk.

I hate that no one else won't not drink with me, and that no one else would choose me over drinking.

I hate that I can't have a good time with my friends drinking and me not drinking because I would inevitably be uncomfortable and worry the entire time.

I hate that I can't help but think they think less of me because I don't drink.

I hate that that's probably true.

I hate that it makes me feel like shit because I think they think less of me for sticking to my principles and morals.

I hate that the fact that I don't hate myself for not drinking isn't enough to make me feel better about any of this.

But I also hate that I judge them for drinking and judge them for judging me for not drinking.

And I hate that that makes me a hypocrite.

'Gonna hitch a ride
head for the other side
leave it all behind
never change my mind
gonna sail away
sun lights another day
freedom of my mind
carry me away for the last time...' - 'Hitch a Ride', Boston

I Can't Think of an Appropriate Title for This One, But I'll Capitalise All the Letters Anyways.

Song of the Day: 'Lusty Alaska Lady', GreySkiesBlue

It's hard to write a blog post about something that isn't happening directly to you but you're still mixed up in. When it's not your problem to solve, but you're still in it because your opinion has been asked and it would go against your better judgement to not try and help them.

All I want to do is complain about the problem, the fact that there is a problem, that I'm trying to help, and no one is taking my advice even though THEY brought me into it and THEY asked for my help.

But all that would lead to is me ranting about a problem that isn't mine, telling a one-sided story and my biased opinion of it, and how easy it would be to fix it if only they freaking did what I'm telling them to do.

So I sit and stop giving my opinion. They keep asking for it, but they won't listen. And then I feel stupid for having said anything at all and second guess my advice.

It's sound advice. I don't really have a lot of experience in the 'drama' department, regardless of it's familial, friend, or otherwise. But I am damn good at being objective. I'm good at seeing the other side, playing devil's advocate when necessary, and finding a logical and not too over-the-top way of handling a problem when necessary.

Sometimes I think it's because they like the drama. Honestly, I've never met people who collect THIS much melodrama in their lives as some of the friends I've got at school. And what's really annoying is when they complain about how much drama there is in the life. IF YOU WERE TO FUCKING DEAL WITH THE DRAMA INSTEAD OF REACTING ON INSTINCT AND EXACERBATING THE PROBLEM, YOU WOULD HAVE. LESS. DRAMA.

But then I remember that people are human. Sure, a little drama keeps you on your toes, spices things up, and makes for an interesting story once it's over and done with. But I don't think people like it, per say. Sometimes people enjoy inciting drama - it does make for a good spectator sport. But I honestly think that most drama comes from people not wanting to act like adults.

It's true. If you've a problem with someone, talk about it with them. Don't go talking about it behind their backs, complaining to friends and telling virtually everyone BUT them. That doesn't help. That makes it worse.

But, people are people, and directly talking to someone seems to be way too hard for the world. So we'll just keep gossiping until our ears fall off, and maybe that'll eventually lead to world peace.

'Say there's something better
you don't see it, you won't find it
say there's something better
you're behind it but you won't get it.' - 'Molasses', The Hush Sound

I Get Nervous Every Time You Speak

Song of the Day: 'Can You Tell', Ra Ra Riot

I've come to the realisation that I talk a lot. Which, I've also come to realise, isn't the same as having something to say. But I've managed to get to a point that I have fewer and fewer awkward silences because both/all parties are having trouble scrambling for something to say.

Take today, for instance. My friend Beep and I were planning on going to see one of the department shows tonight, which unfortunately got rained out (flooding in the theatre and damaging the set. That SUUUUUCKS). Instead, we got dinner and just hung out for an hour or so. I managed to talk a LOT. General musings, rants, comments, a wide variety of subjects. He talked too, interjecting every so often with a smartass comment as he is wont to do, and his own talkings. But MAN, can I pontificate.

I think it's because I like words so much. And language. Not to the extent of my crazy sister, who is getting a degree in linguistics because 'it's fun' (siriusly, Katie? Dork.), but I appreciate the power of words and the potential combinations of 'em all. I think it also comes from my family at all - we were the type of family that talked about things. Communication was quite important - rightly so - and we all tried to be careful with our choices. I actually had someone mention once that both my sister and I tend to talk in a very measured way - not necessarily slowly, but carefully. We chose specific words for specific purposes, and she found it very interesting.

I think we just want to make sure that people understand us. Not to say that people lack understanding all the time, or that we're not good at explaining ourselves. We're all just very aware of things getting lost in translation, and people's propensity to hear what they want. So we're careful with what we say, and try not to say things we don't mean or don't believe.

That's why it's hard for us when we get flustered. WE know what we want to say, it makes sense in our heads. But when there's pressure on us to say something, our words sometimes get bungled and massive miscommunication ensue.

I think that's also why I get so weird about grammar and pronunciation. There are specific ways to say things, specific ways that were deemed proper by the Gods of Language and whatnot. Funnily enough, I only JUST figured out what the subjunctive form is and how to correctly use it. And I'm almost always right. Prepositions can be nasty, though. They all get so confusing sometimes.

Also, NO ONE FROM OREGON PRONOUNCES IT 'OR-EH-GONE'. It's 'OR-EH-GIN', like 'win' or 'shin'. Dammit.

'You're' and 'your' have become synonymous for some people. Or they only use one for the meaning of both. 'They're', 'their', and 'there' is also a constant source of discomfort for me and mine. It's gotten to a point where I'll correct people when they say 'to who' (to WHOM) or reorganise a sentence so it doesn't end with a preposition (still never know if it's the right one). More often than not this is in jest, because ending sentences in prepositions and saying 'to who' (no matter how weird it sounds to me) have become common enough to be the norm.

Ever notice how some consonants get lost in pronunciation? Like the 'l' in 'always', or the 'r' in 'forward'. They've become 'oh-ways' and 'foe-ward' in some dialects. Dialects? Regions? I don't think it's regional, really. I've heard it on both coasts and all over tv shows. Maybe it's just the way the language is developing, or something. Who knows!

'Look, I find some of what you teach suspect
because I'm used to relying on intellect
but I try to open up to what I don't know...' ' Life Support', RENT

Bloggity blooooog, bloggity blog blog blog blog!

Song of the Day: 'Good Ol' Fashion Nightmare', Matt & Kim

Fun fact: I'm currently in rehearsal and they are choreographing 'Contact'. Excellent background music, I do say. SO MUCH S&M.

In other news, I've attempted to maybe start a little bit of a slight workout... thingy. Which has mostly been prompted by the copious amounts of Matt & Kim I have recently acquired (Shpanks, Emma!). They just make a good beat for it! It makes my abs hurt. A lot. But it feels really good after, and it might even start to help me sleep better. Woo!

I've discovered that it's cheaper to buy water from the fountain drinks thingy. I save about $2 each time cuz I only pay 15¢ for the cup, as opposed to the $2.35 for a water bottle. I've been drinking a lot of water lately, and less soda.

It's Rosh Hashana this weekend, so that means four day weekend and the room to myself! Not too shabby. Mostly I've been watching a bunch of tv shows online that my friend blogged about. She's really where I get most of my new tv shows. And it's the fall, so a bunch of the ones I usually watch are starting up again. I are excite.

It's gotten to a point that my cast members will wave to me whenever they see me in the halls. It actually makes me feel super cool. Mostly the other ASMs and I will sit on the periphery watching them rehearse, or doing our own thing. Our stage manager always has everything under control, so we are really only here to do the heavy lifting. Not that I mind - my biceps are turning out quite nice. But it would be nifty if we had a little more interaction with the cast. It's hard not to feel a little inconsequential during the early days, as all we do is sit around. I know that things will pick up once we get into tech week and the actual performances, and I'm certainly having fun watching the cast. I feel pretty cool getting to see everything early - makes me feel exclusive.

We've been doing some perspective and figure drawing in theatre design, and I feel like bragging a little. I've always been a decent hand at drawing, and I enjoy drawing too. But with the addition of actual instructions and tricks of the trade, I've gotten a lot better. Now my people are actually proportionate and look realistic!

Aside: on break various cast members were singing 'Breakin Free' from 'High School Musical', and now the guy playing Benny is instructing three ensemble members on the various positions one may come across in a threesome. Welcome to rehearsal for RENT, please leave your dignity, discomfort and qualms at the door. In the words of one of my awesome co-ASMs, 'it's an all you can eat buffet.'

Other than my random musings, I don't believe I have much more to say. Life is good, classes are going well, rehearsal is pretty much my favourite time of the day save for bedtime. I got to wear a scarf today! Granted, it was fairly thin and purely decorative, but still. It wasn't as insanely humid and hot as it has been, so I thought that warranted a scarf, dammit!

'I thought that there were angels but to my surprise
we climbed aboard their starship, we headed for the skies!' - 'Come Sail Away', Styx

Kill Me With Killer Eyes

Song of the Day: 'Angel in Disguise', Musiqq

Aaaaaaand then all that angst went away cuz things got FIXED!

I'm back on RENT, and I simply couldn't be happier (right dear?). Classes are going surprisingly well, even if Tuesdays and Thursdays are super-dee-duper busy. Four classes in one day can be a bit much, especially when the first three hour block is with the same teacher. Rych is nice enough and knows his shit, but he can TALK.

I've been friending people on Facebook from the cast. It's kind of pathetic how excited I get, but I don't care. That much. I don't really like adding people I don't know, which is partially why I go through my friends list and delete people I rarely talk to. Those of whom I'm not related to, that is. So when it comes to adding friends, I prefer to have actually spoken in person, insomuch that they know me as more than 'that chick on the periphery of our rehearsals every day'. But this means that I'm TALKING to people, and making REAL LIFE FRIENDS with them! Kind of a big deal for me, seeing as all the cast members are kind of terrifying.

I'm keeping up on my homework! Most if not all of my stuff is done a few days in advance. Particularly helpful since I'm busy almost every evening from 7 - 11 with rehearsal, and Sundays from noon - 5. Them be some prime homeworking time, and I've managed to stay on top of my stuff. I've also been getting a decent amount of sleep each night, which is nice. AND I've been able to watch Doctor Who every so often, which is even nicer! Wooo!

Meg and I do really well together. It's very comforting. Her best friend is a freshman here this year, and she's been going through some of that good ol' freshmen drama, but she, Meg and I have been able to get some good time in together and get a lot closer. She actually thanked me for accepting her as a friend, let alone being so good to Meg. Sure made ME feel special. :)

More than things simply going really well, I've also been doing a lot better at realising just how content I am. Classes, friends, health all good, enough alone time and free time but not too much of either, and wonderful weather to boot. Soon it'll be October and autumn and SCARF-WEARING SEASON!!!

'Life could not better be, better be, better be
life could not possibly, no sirrah, sirrah, sirree!' - 'Life Could Not Better Be', Danny Kaye (The Court Jester)

The Moon and Stars are Ganging Up on the Sun

Song of the Day: 'Girl Police', The Dudes

What IS it about college that makes people want to fuck students over?

Maybe they think it's character building. Maybe they think dealing with disappointment and last minute changes that are not only severely inconvenient but mildly heartbreaking will 'better prepare you for the future', or some shit.

Either way, they are damn good at picking that one thing to set you over the edge and make you walk back to your room in the pouring rain crying enough to make you look like a drowned rat who's addicted to pot.

I dealt with my best friend's father dying and my inability to be present at his memorial let alone near her for the next four months. I managed to make it through a red-eye flight, three hour layover, second flight, train rid, moving into my building and all in oppressively hot and humid weather after having been awake longer than twenty four hours. I didn't actually kill anyone when I couldn't get into my storage unit to get all of my stuff. Nor when I found out it was because the stupid lady wrote down my access code wrong. Not even when a couple of drawers of clothing and knickknacks were covered in mould and everything came out smelling like my dad's twenty year old tent. When my Italian class got moved to the other side of campus and I had to walk through the pouring rain to get there, I really wasn't in that bad of a mood.

But then.

THEN.

I got switched from assistant stage managing RENT to stage managing a student rep later in the year.

Yes, to any other production student, that would probably seem like a promotion. But I spent the entire summer since finding out my production assignment so excited to be working on RENT. A show I love, that's been with me since the early teenage years. Yes, Mimi probably should die since it is actually based on 'La Boheme', but I could get over that fact knowing I'd get to actually WORK THAT SHOW.

And then I met the cast! Well, 'met' is a strong word. I was in their presence and they came to realise I was more than a spectator. But this CAST, man. They can ACT. Even more, they can SING. In fact, they're all rather terrifying, especially as a whole. But there is such freaking TALENT in that group of people I could have dealt with the fear merely to be a part of that. Plus I was supposed to be working with two of my year mates who are also two of my best friends. Talk about fun.

But nooooo, the stupid senior production students CLEARLY get priority. Just because I'm almost the bottom of the totem pole - and there really isn't any 'almost' about it, freshmen don't count cuz they don't get any real assignments until second semester at the earliest - I get relegated to something I DIDN'T want, I DIDN'T sign up for, and would probably make a complete mess of. ofwhichI'dmakeacompletemess.

What's worse is that if they'd simply signed up this other chick there in the first place and me somewhere else, I wouldn't complain. I would have taken what they gave me and probably be psyched for it all the same. But they swept this out from under me even LATER than the last minute, if that's possible - we started rehearsal YESTERDAY and it got switched TODAY.

I've talked to the head of the department about it. He said he was glad I came to him about it, and that he'd get back to me after talking with a couple of the other teachers who make the assignment decisions. But still. I got entirely screwed over, and really, it's enough to crack your spirit a bit.

'Bones are broken and the will is sunk

how did everything get so fucked up?' - 'Manifest Destiny', Guster

You Can't Hate the Night if You've Lived Your Whole Life Without Light

Song of the Day: 'A Song About an Anglerfish', Hank Green

I can feel it.

I can FEEEEEEL it.

Change. It's coming. And I'm excited. WOO.

Classes are starting, I get to see my school friends again, I get to be in NEW YORK again! I'm gonna kick ass at my classes and bump up that GPA. Drives to the beach and crazy theatre antics on campus. Dance parties and 'How I Met Your Mother' marathon. Damn, I'm even excited for the HUMIDITY. I'm more excited for the chance to wear my new coat in the cold of autumn with one of my thirty odd scarves, but still! NEW YORK!

Aside: even though I know the lyrics to that one song about New York are 'concrete jungle where dreams are made of', I like the Christina Aguilera Wrong Lyrics meme version: 'CONCRETE JUNGLE WET DREAM TOMAAATOOOOO!'

I've been packing. I've been vetting the music in my iTunes that I haven't gotten around to because I wasn't in the mood and/or had other things to do/listen to. Note: Hank Green is hilarious. Me gusta.

I didn't realise how much I miss campus. I'm so excited to get to the dorm and unpack everything. Hell, I'm excited to do my own laundry. Even if my drying rack drives Meg crazy.

The DESIGN STUDIO, man! I get to be with the People of Awesome and my Llamas and watch movies and be theatretastically artistic. I get to assistant stage manage RENT with two of my best friends. We're gonna drive each other insane, but we'll be doing it TOGETHER.

And this summer has been fantastic to boot. Amazing friends with wonderful memories: Woodland Park Zoo, Columbia Tower, spaceship driving, Harry Freakin' Potter, my tattoo, and numerous girls' days out! My friends are AWESOME.

PLUS I got to spend so much time at the theatre, working on shows and meeting fantastic people! I've got a standing invitation to work at Driftwood whenever I've the time and the energy, so next summer is SET.

The possibility of me actually going to London for January session might just come to fruition. I talked to my parents, who I thought would advise against going and instead save money for my Spring Semester, but they think if it's feasible, it would be a fantastic opportunity. It's not like I'll be getting to London anytime soon on my own, so I might as well take advantage of it and go through the school. It's probably a crapton cheaper this way, too.

THINGS. HAPPENING. TO ME. HALLELUJAHS.

Also, if words decide to be fancy and spell themselves in the British fashion, it's because my computer thinks it's British now and the red squiggly lines came up under them, and those DRIVE ME BATTY.

....You can tell I'm intensely eager for things to happen because of my excessive use of ALL CAPS and the word 'excite'.

CAPITALISE ALL THE THINGS!

'Change changing places
root yourself to the ground
capitalise on this good fortune
one word can bring you round
changes!' - 'Changes', Yes

Ramblerambleramble

Song of the Day: 'Come On Eileen', Save Ferris (originally Dexys Midnight Runners)

Is it bad that the first thought I had after hearing about Hurricane Irene was to sing the song 'Come On Eileen'?

Not exactly the cleverest of thoughts, but it is mildly entertaining to replace Eileen with Irene and see what happens.

It's funny that whenever you talk to East coasters about hurricanes, they don't freak out as much as I would. I mean, a giant spiral of rapid wind and water furiously blowing its way through any and everything? Seriously? Not a twitch. But when I mention that one earthquake we had, oh, nineish years ago, they wig out. I guess there's something to be said for growing up with one or the other, but still. I'd rather take an earthquake than a hurricane.

In other news, I leave in less than a week. Buy this time next week I will hopefully be in my dorm unpacking for my sophomore year at college. Quite possibly my last year at college, but we'll address that problem when we get there.

I have officially been approved to receive a loan! Now, if only they'd GIMME THE MONEY. Something to do with needing the school to approve the loan - which is currently all but shut down due to the impending DOOM of Ms. Irene, the bitch. Classes start on the sixth, and I have yet to pay for not only all of my books and inevitable school supplies, but that little thing called TUITION. I'd LIKE not to get thrown out the minute I step on campus, thanks....

While applying for said loan, I managed to overestimate how much I'd need - by about five thousand dollars. So, that's an extra 5k for school supplies! What I'd REALLY like to do - what I probably won't do because it's not exactly the best use of money specifically loaned for university necessities - is take a course during the January session. Sure, it's a better idea than buying a car, and almost related to the money's intended use. However, I don't really think the course I want to take will actually get rid of any requirements. It will get me to LONDON, and I'll get to study British THEATRE, but while it is related to my major, it won't contribute much to my degree.

The other side of it is I can't feasibly take out another loan beyond what I will have to take out for my Spring semester - which means Spring of 2012 will probably be my last semester of college. So why waste the five thousand on a January session when I can cover some of Spring semester, and make it easier on myself when I inevitably have to take out a second loan? It's just too hard to rationalise spending my money on a three week course when it could cover about a third of what I'll have to pay for Spring.

....Except, well, LONDON. ENGLAND. BRITISH THEATRE. Dammit.

There are always scholarships, I guess. Many within the department or even within the school that could help, and I'm sure I could find some smallish scholarships to chip away at price of tuition. I just don't think it's fair that it should come to that.

But hey, I'm just a middle class white girl with average grades. I wouldn't know hardship if it came up and bit a chunk out of my parents looming credit card bills, unpaid student loans, or mortgage.

'I'm bound to ramble
all my days with another...' - 'Bound to Ramble', John Butler Trio

I Am Traveling On

Song of the Day: 'Rio', Hey Marseilles

I have officially had my tattoo for twenty days. Twenty days of being inked. And feeling awesome.

A couple days after I got my tat I submitted a picture of it to this tumblr that I follow called Fuck Yeah Tattoos. Since then, I've been checking it consistently, waiting for mine to be officially On The Internet. That is, in a more official capacity than Facebook. Obviously.

Now, I don't know if I managed to miss it, the submission box is really backed up, or if it's just not up to par, but I have yet to see it.

I'm not exactly sure what I'm hoping will happen - it's permanency sure won't be affected. My 'OH SHIT I'VE GOT A TATTOO' moment happened, well, when I got my tattoo, and the Hallelujah chorus surely wouldn't be roused a second time for this.

I don't think I'm waiting for it to be validated. It feels pretty valid to me, and any and all who have seen it have expressed their impressiveness (impressedness? impression?) and more often than not delight for me. I doubt anyone who knew me would discredit it outright as silly or impulsive without allowing me to explain it's significance. I have gone through it enough times in my head to have what exactly I would say to someone who asks what it means to me, and the various ways I will say it depending on the person's association and opinion of Harry Potter.

I think more than anything I'm waiting for it to show up so I can be 'Yep, that's my tat. NBD.' Really, I've felt pretty casual about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with it and freak out appropriately whenever I show it to someone new, but it just feels so... normal. Like I've always had it, or at least been waiting for it. I don't necessarily feel more complete, but I do feel a bit more me. A bit more kickass as well, but a lot more of feeling me. And it's a nice feeling.

Plus, I got my student loan, so I can pay for little things like tuition and the like.

Good day all around, gents. Good day all around.

'It's a beautiful day outside
everything is okay and alright.' - 'Louder Than Words', HeyHiHello!

Playlist for One?

Song of the Day: 'Peroxide Swing', Michael Bublé/Frank Sinatra

So my mom and I are going out of town this weekend. Nothing special, just to my grandparental units house, about three hours south of us. But this weekend it's just me and her, cuz my dad is in Oregon visiting his dad. Wow, lots of paternal relatives this weekend.

Anywhozlebees. Because the ride down takes three hours and I lurve me some music, she's asked me to make us a playlist. She doesn't always like my stuff - some things are too graphic or too repetitive or too loud, etc. But she's quite a fan of big band and jazz and that kind of yummy vocal musics, so there's a LOT of Frank Sinatra in this playlist.

It's been fun. I like going through all 4325 of my songs and finding the ones that we'll both like. Yes, I do in fact go through ALL my music. I like being reminded of how cultured and uncultured I can be.

I've always enjoyed making playlists for my various moods and environments. There's one called 'Summer', one for 'Soft Music', and even one entitled 'Nostalgia' - mostly stuff my dad played for us when we were younger or stuff we've come across in a family setting and all really fallen in love with. Regina Spektor was one of those awesome finds, actually from my dad.

Playlists make it easier when I'm hanging with people whose musical tastes I haven't yet been exposed to. I ask can limit their exposure to my collection so they don't get weirded out by my Italian folk techno or television show theme songs or really, really bad pop music.

I'm not sure entirely why, but I get kind of self conscious about my music. I do judge people by their music - not necessarily a binding judgement, but merely a preliminary kind of judgement to see how compatible we are. Which isn't to say I won't be friends with someone because I don't like their music - one of my best friends at school listens to mostly rap and hip-hop music, and I've yet to throw her over.

When someone's going through my iTunes or wants to listen to music and says I can put on anything, I get kinda twitchy. I'm worried they'll come across something and be all 'OMYGAWD, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LISTEN TO THIS' or 'DUDE, WTF IS THIS' (yes, these are prime examples of how my acquaintances actually talk).

Also because someone will inevitably come across something and exclaim JUST HOW MUCH THEY LOVE THIS SONG/ARTIST/GENRE/WHATEVER and I probably haven't gotten around to listening to it yet (aka Phil and most of my stuff by the Killers).

To be honest, I haven't listened to everything in my iTunes, but that could be for any number of reasons. The most common one would be because my laptop is relatively new, and I usually put on My Top Rated if anything, so it doesn't always get to the all the songs. Also because I skip some songs depending on my mood. Another reason is because I'm always adding new stuff I've found or been given from a friend or stolen from my sister's iPod, and I forget to go through and vet and rate everything. Or just never feel in the mood.

Some songs I have for the novelty ('Kung Fu Fighting' by Carl Douglas), some for nostalgia (*NSYNC FOR THE WIN), some because someone gave it to me and I haven't made a decision about it yet (the crapton of Moby I've got in there). But most of my music came from my CD collection, my family CD collection, or friends who know what I like and don't mind sharing.

To be sure, when I put My Top Rated on random for just me, I listen to almost everything, skipping very few because I don't like them. But when there's someone else in the room, my iTunes really likes to play the embarrassing songs I don't like to admit I actually enjoy like Selena Gomez (IT'S CATCHY, OKAY).

I guess it's partially because I think my music is very telling as to the kind of person I am - but no one can listen to all of my music in one sitting, so they really only ever get to know a small portion of me.

'Makin' music

is more to me than a pleasure

cuz me and music -

we go together like notes in a measure.' - 'As Long As I'm Singing', Bobby Darin

Green Light...?

Song of the Day: 'Beautiful Dreamer', Bing Crosby

I wish my many attempts at utilizing my creativity would manifest itself into ONE SIMPLE THING so that I didn't end up with as many half finished projects as I do.

I've got a number of half-baked story ideas, few of which have actually gone anywhere. Those that do don't for long - I eventually lose interest or forget or just... meh.

Many chord progressions have been 'written' and forgotten, even more abandoned. I can't seem to complete the song writing cycle to come up with a satisfactory combination of music, melody, and words.

I took up painting and colored-pencil drawing once upon a time, and I wasn't half bad. I've a few of my itty bitty canvases around the house, mostly flowers from the garden or something outside I thought was pretty. And then that died.

I've filled a book almost halfway with poetry (though I did cross out a few of them that sucked balls), but actually feeling inspired enough to put pen to paper comes in rare waves - maybe twice a year I'll crank out five or six and then just stop.

What with Youtube and its increasing popularity, I even tried once or twice to make video blogs. I never manage to come up with a decent enough idea to actually continue with them, but I tried.

There was even a few years in elementary and middle school when I really enjoyed sewing and made all of my friends pillows for birthdays and Christmas and the like. That idea died too.

I crochet, but that comes in phases the way my poetry does - I'll get in the mood (usually around the fall) and make some scarves or hats for friends and family, as well as start a number of scarves and hats for friends and family. I usually find those incomplete projects tucked away in my closet a number of months later.

In sixth grade I tried my hand at what I thought was 'fashion design' - really just drawing random clothes and outfits to see what I got. Some of them were pretty creative, and I even 'designed' my ideal wedding dress a number of times, but then that lost its fun too.

Cooking and baking can be fun - when it's not too messy or gross or I'm baking cookies for the zillionth time.

I tried ballet for a bit when I was six or seven - that resulted in me sitting in a corner refusing to do anything. Dancing is fun, but I'm too self-conscious about my body to actually try and turn my car dancing into any type or refined skill.

Photography came and went - there's only so much you can do with a digital camera, and I didn't have the heart to really dig in and learn any of the cool aspects of it. Plus there are only so many times you can show your parents a picture of a flower and expect them to be impressed.

I want to be good at these things. I'd settle for being decently good and a few of these things. But I never get anywhere - my plans don't come full circle and ideas don't come into fruition, so I lose hope and sometimes abandon them before even trying.

Unfortunately for me, I have the attention span of a cracker and the drive of a moped.

Oy.

'Go do, you'll learn to

just let yourself fall into landslide

go do, you'll learn to

just let yourself give into low tide

go do!' - 'Go Do', Jónsi

No Idea, Really

Song of the Day: ' Lippy Kids', Elbow

Is it worse to take a life or to ruin one?

The fact that I differentiate between the two is reason to pause. I used to believe that taking someone's life was one of the most atrocious things a person could do. Now, I don't put much creed in religion in general, which has lead me to come up with my own faith. Well, not a faith, really. Just a general belief that holds some weight with me.

The animosity and disparities between religions have lead me to believe that no one is right. No one is wrong, but no ONE is right. It seems selfish - a rather human emotion, one I wouldn't expect to find in any deity who makes it a point to differentiate between his/her/themselves and humans - to select a chosen few to be the 'true believers', the rightful and righteous who are the only ones to deserve eternal salvation and protection and whatnot.

From that stemmed a question: what do all humans have in common? My brain supplied the simple answer - to live. Not to live well, to live comfortably, or to live long, but to live at all. And that's pretty damn important.

So I used to believe that taking someone's life was something unforgivable and utterly horrible. And I still think that. Granted, if it's by way of self-defense or protection of someone else, it's more often than not justifiable. Everything else that falls outside those bounds are usually seen as unwarranted and immoral, not to mention illegal. But I digress.

Would it be worse to have one's life taken or to have one's life ruined? And I don't mean in the sense of losing your love or a limb, or something - which isn't to say these aren't awful or terrifying, and as I've never experienced either, I have no valid opinion and plenty of bias.

But when faced with more dire situations - rape, death, poverty? Indeed, a situation in which many who found themselves would prefer death.

Of course, I've now asked two entirely different questions: which would be worse to commit, and which would be worse to endure. I've not a solid answer for either, but it's certainly food for thought.

'I don't want to follow death and all of his friends

and in the end

we lie awake and we dream of making our escape.' - 'Death and All of His Friends', Coldplay

ANGST ANGST ANGST

Song of the Day: 'It Ain't Me Babe', Jesse Cook

How often do I chock up my emotions as the hormones and frivolity of simply being a teenager?

One more year and then that excuse becomes obsolete. What then? 'Because I'm so young/inexperienced/what have you'? 'Because I'm a woman'? Like THAT will be accepted. It would, however, be shot down as sexist.

So how come 'because I'm a teenager' is an acceptable excuse for reasoning away a person's emotionality? Why isn't THAT remark seen as offensive and ageist?

I know that a lot of what teenagers go through is more likely to be frivolous and short term, but that doesn't make their feelings any less real. They've never experienced life before, a lot of those feelings are still new to them. Not to mention they're still trying to figure themselves out. That's bed enough. But then the natural course of life demands that they take that time to figure everyone ELSE out too. Frankly, people are so batshit fucked up, I think a little teenage angst, personal turmoil and drama is understandable.

Honestly, our high school years are only put into perspective after we've lived for a while BEYOND high school. maybe we need to experience the life or death of adolescence so we're not so shellshocked when the big shit hits the fan later on.

I hate it when people try to illegitimize other people's feelings. YOU don't know, YOU'RE not them. Their feelings can be real and intense for hem, but you are not on the inside so you can't really know what's going on.

People are people, regardless of age. Feelings are feelings, regardless of age. Everyone feels emotions and everyone needs and deserves to be taken care of by those who love them. Not brushed off as something insignificant. It's like they're saying they are subhuman. Just because something isn't dramatic and crucial and life-altering for you doesn't mean it isn't for somebody else.

I know I've done it. I've made light of someone else's problems and feelings because they're oh so young. But I've also been doing it to myself as of late - and not seeing your own opinions and problems and feelings as valid and important has got to be unhealthy. It certainly can't be helping any development I may be undergoing BECAUSE I'm so young.

The really sad thing is I can't help feeling as I write this that it's nothing more than pent-up teenage angst.

'There's a meat market down the street
the boys and girls watch each other eat
when they really just wanna watch each other sleep.' - 'Dance Anthem of the 80s', Regina Spektor

ANGER, WILL ROBINSON

Song of the Day: ‘Funny the Way it Is’, Dave Matthews Band 

I don’t like being actively angry with people.

Which isn’t to say I haven’t done it. I’ve yelled and screamed and physically fought, been passive aggressive, even ranted loudly and repetitively to uninvolved third parties.

But usually - or at least more and more as of late - I like to take some time to think about it. To figure out what the problem is and find a way to address it without being overly accusatory and still getting my point across the first time around.

I don’t like addressing the problem right away, because that usually leads to me saying the first thing that pops into my head, which is rude and spiteful, more often than not.

Which is why it’s excruciatingly hard for me when people don’t extend me the same courtesy.

When they ignore me and expect me to know what the problem is, even though I wasn’t aware there was one in the first place.

When they send passive aggressive text messages or Facebook posts.

When they tell everyone but ME, and then everyone and their mother gives me nasty looks and talk about me behind my back and hate me.

...Okay, that last one hasn’t really happened (that I’m aware of), but still. They’re all from the same vein.

Furthermore, when I know or think someone’s mad at me, I get shaky. I get scared. I get this gross feeling in my stomach. My face flushes and stays hot and red. My throat gets smaller and it’s a little harder to breathe. I stop talking and have a hard time not crying.

I feel like I’ve done something mortifyingly offensive and wasn’t aware, and if the person even bothers to tell me I won’t get the chance to explain myself and try to fix the problem.

So, yeah. There’s some all around suckage whenever someone’s mad at me.

Not that anyone is particularly happy when someone’s angry with them... but still. It’s painful. 

‘All my doubts that fill my head are skidding up and down again
up and down and ‘round again, down and up and ‘round again. - ‘Crystal Ball’, P!nk

Funny the Way it Is

Lying in the park on a beautiful day,
Sunshine in the grass, and the children play.
Siren's passing, fire engine red,
Someone's house is burning down on a day like this?

The evening comes and we're hanging out,
On the front step, and a car rolls by with the windows rolled down,
And that war song is playing, "why can't we be friends?"
Someone iss screaming and crying in the apartment upstairs

Funny the way it is, if you think about it
Somebody's going hungry and someone else is eating out
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong
Somebody's heart is broken and it becomes your favorite song

The way your mouth feels in your lovers kiss
Like a pretty bird on a breeze or water to a fish
A bomb blast brings a building crashing to the floor
You can hear the laughter, while the children play "war"

Funny the way it is, if you think about it
One kid walks 10 miles to school, another's dropping out
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong
On a soldier's last breath his baby's being born

Standing on a bridge, watch the water passing under me
It must've been much harder when there was no bridge, just water
Now the world is small. Remember how it used to be,
With mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars?

Watch the sky, the jet planes, so far out of my reach
Is there someone up there looking down on me?
Boy chase a bird, so close but every time
He'll never catch her, but he can't stop trying

Funny the way it is, if you think about it
One kid walks 10 miles to school, another's dropping out
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong
On a soldier's last breath his baby's being born
Funny the way it is, nor right or wrong
Somebody's broken heart becomes your favorite song
Funny the way it is, if you think about it
A kid walks 10 miles to school, another's dropping out.

Standing on a bridge, watch the water passing under me
It must've been much harder when there was no bridge, just water
Now the world is small. Remember how it used to be,
With mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars?

- 'Funny the Way it Is', Dave Matthews Band

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAbMnMWHTvY

Orange Peelings

Song of the Day - ‘A Man Walks Down the Street’, Paul Simon 

Have you ever listened to a song, looked up the lyrics, and then realized you had been singing them wrong ever since you first heard them?

I do this all the time.

And not just little things like mixing up prepositions of proper nouns, legit mistranslations of entire lyrics.

The most notorious example would have to be when I was eight or nine and, as my parents are awesome, we were listening to Neil Diamond in the car. The song ‘Cherry, Cherry’ came on and as we got to the chorus, I exploded out from the back seat, ‘SHE’S GOT THE WET BABOOBY, CHERRY’.

My dad and sister turned from the front seat giving me a look of wonder and burst out laughing.

Turns out the lyrics are ‘she’s got the way to move me, Cherry’.

Whatever.

I don’t really know what went through my head to think those were the right lyrics, I just sang what I heard.

The way every middle schooler in the US sang their own version of ‘Dragostea Din Tei’ by O-Zone - also known as the ‘Numa Numa’ song. You just sing what you hear and hope you’re close.

I recently found out that the song lyrics to a song with which I had previously been infatuated were not as I thought they were.

For whatever reason, it didn’t register to me that the lyrics I had in my head made very little sense. I just thought there was a depth of wisdom and sentiment that I simply didn’t understand, and chocked it up to creativity and artistic license.

But now that I know what the right words are, I find myself shaking my head at my own folly. Really, how could I be so silly?

Though when I really think about it, I DO come by it honestly. Whenever I play the intro to ‘More than a Feeling’, if my dad’s in the vicinity he’ll yell out ‘IT’S MORE THAN ORANGE PEEEELIIIIIIIINGS’.

And yes, he is quite aware what the actual words are. He just revels in being a dork.

When I was younger, one of my favorite songs for my parents to sing while I was trying to fall asleep was ‘Goodnight Irene’. It was soft and full of lullabyness, simple enough that even my devotedly tone-deaf mother could sing it and almost always stay in tune. 

Years later I looked up the lyrics and found out that the one right before the chorus - one my parents never refrained from singing to me - was ‘sometimes I take a great notion / to jump in the river and drown’.

Whenever I hear or sing the song myself, it never strikes me that the person singing is contemplating suicide. I always remember my personal context of the song, of calm and sleepy and backrub and love. I guess the mysticism and love of my parents’ serenade managed to fog up the line’s literal meaning for me.

One of my favorite memories is when my dad would sing me to sleep. A favorite of his and mine was ‘You Can Call Me Al’ by Paul Simon, but my sister and I had dubbed it ‘A Man Walks Down the Street’. We had hand motions and he’d sing the percussion parts as well as all the words, and he sang it the same way every single time. It’s the way I sing it when I’m not listening to the actual song. Though sometimes I throw in the flute solo for good measure.

Well, this turned real personal and sentimental real fast.

On a brighter note, the sun is shining, the door is open wide and I can hear the Music of Outside - loud birds, buzzing bugs that run into our front window, wind blowing the wind chime, the occasional car, and what sounds like someone weed-whacking. My dogs are passed out on the floor, my mother likewise in her chair draped in the kitty cat blanket. Funnily enough, all of them are facing towards the open door in their respective subconscious stupors, like flowers follow the arc of the sun.

I love summer. 

‘You say you want a resolution,

well, you know

we all want to change the chord.’ - Emma’s version of ‘Revolution’ by the Beatles

I Want, I Want, I Want.

Song of the Day: 'Jonah', Guster

I want to be an extreme.

I want to be the best at something. And no, I’m not trying to make a Pokémon reference.

I want to be so extraordinarily in love with something that it is part of my definition when you look me up in the dictionary.

I want to be so amazing at something that my friends and family think of me whenever they see that something. If that makes any sense.

I want to be noteworthy.

I want to be remembered.

I want to be known.

I want to be loved.

And it sucks to be thinking all of these things when I know there are people who have it harder and have less and want and need actual things that are concrete and tangible and don’t just long for ideas and the abstract like I do.

Especially when I have a lot of the concrete and tangible things that so many people lack.

But the things I tend to remember, the things that stick with me, aren’t the tangible things I have, like a roof and food and money and a university.

They’re not even the abstract things I have like friendship and fun and love.

They’re the things I don’t have.

I have an album on my computer of pictures I’ve found scouring the internet and this album is entitled ‘wonders’.

In this album I have 597 pictures of places I want to go and things I want to see.

This album is set as my background and changes everything minute and they are a constant reminder of the things I don’t have and the places I’ve never been and the things I have yet to see and do.

And at this point in time they are also a reminder of my own selfishness. I have an album of pictures that I don’t see as the wonders and beauty of the world. I see them as painful reminders of what I lack.

When did we become so selfish?

When did we lose the ability to cherish and appreciate all that we have and replace it with longing for what we don’t?

I have amazing friends.

I am blessed to have a wonderful family that I not only love but like.

I have hardships and obstacles as any one else does, but I blow those out of proportion by conveniently forgetting all the things I DO have that make life wonderful.

And I think I need to stop doing that.

'Something that I want

something that I tell myself I need

something that I want

and I need everything I see.' - 'Something That I Want', Grace Potter (Tangled)

Someone Cover Me, I'm Going In!

Written at 9:57 pm EST while flying from New York to Seattle.

Fun fact: listening to ‘Ready for Anything’ by Skyway Flyer (Song of the Day) makes airplane rides SO much more epic.

I’m flying over Michigan.

I am FLYING. OVER. MICHIGAN.

As in, I can actually see the outline of the state, in its glove form. I can see the water between Michigan and Wisconsin, with Wisconsin on the west side and quite possibly Canada to the north. And all this without consulting a map.

Wow.

I mean, have you ever seen the outline of this country? I know some of the states are boring with their squareness, but the natural borders are nothing short of miraculous.

Have you ever been able to pinpoint the naturally made contours of our borders? Ever seen the glory of Michigan from 35000 feet in the air?

It’s kind of amazing.

I’m just saying.

Thirty five thousand feet in the sky
it's hard not to feel like I can fly
a long stressful week, an excess of goodbye
plenty of nights absorbed by a cry
summer is close, no time to be shy
adventures are waiting, vacation on standby
chasing the sunset through the sky
tomorrow is looming - home is nigh.

Blah, Change.

Song of the Day: 'La Vie En Rose', Louis Armstrong

Tomorrow is my last day on the East Coast for a very long time.

The last time in New York.

The last time on campus.

The last time in my dorm.

The last time with my roommate.

The last time I’ll look out the window and see the bell tower and the library behind it.

The last time I’ll be able to see Long Island and all its flatness, with the ten or fifteen water towers visible from my room on the seventh floor.

Today was the last time I’ll see the many friends I’ve made within the drama department this past semester.

The last time I’ll be in the design studio.

The last time I’ll probably walk around South Campus.

The last time I’ll see some of my best friends.

For three. Whole. Months.

Why do I feel like my arm is being severed off?

I have their phone numbers. I’m friends with them on facebook. We can skype. And I’ll see them all again next semester, only three months away.

And in the meantime I get to go home. To see my family. My friends. My puppies. My sister will be home for a few weeks, after SIX MONTHS in Spain, after not seeing her since January. I’ll get to go back and visit my high school friends, actually SEE one of their shows, mayhaps even help out a little.

I’ll be interning at one of the more prominent theatres in Seattle. Granted, for no pay, but I’ll get the Experience (with a capital E and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!) and spend time working in a legitimate theatre, doing legitimate theatre type things.

I may even get a job for when I’m not at the Paramount, so as to get myself a little money for, oh I don’t know, college and stuff. Perhaps I’ll take a summer course, to raise my GPA and get some general requirements out of the way.

Not to mention the IMMENSE amount of time frolicking in the sun, watching movies in the dark, and the all sorts of adventures in between with my amazing friends who I haven’t gotten to spend time with in way too long.

I’ll get to go to my best friends graduation and subsequent party, to celebrate her achievements and success in high school and figuring out what she wants to do with her life.

I’ll get to celebrate the Fourth of July with my family and some of our best friends, possibly the way we did last time around in the hopes of starting a tradition.

I’ll get to laze about the countryside with my grandparents in their secluded home, with an open yard for the dogs and croquet and plenty of card playing.

Maybe I’ll even get my driver’s license. Finally.

Last semester all I could think about was how much I missed my family and my friends from home. This semester, with new amazing and wonderful friends, that feeling was lessened (though still present). And now, with my impending departure tomorrow, I feel as if my world is ending a little bit.

I can blame my abundance of sentimentality on my period, on being sick, even on being exhausted from the last few weeks. But while all of those might be having an effect on my emotional state, I really just want to blame myself.

I made friends. Good friends. Best friends. I’ve determined what I want to do with my life. I’ve gotten involved in a department that has so many familial type qualities, it makes for a wonderful environment in which I can grow and learn and maybe go a little crazy. I’ve signed up for classes in which I actually want to excel, that will help my plans for the future. I’ve done SO many amazing things this semester and made so many awesome plans, it’s got me all excited for the next three years here.

And tomorrow I leave it all behind to go back to the mundanity of ‘life at home’.

Which isn’t true, not even a little bit. I’ve got all those amazing and exciting things to look forward to this summer, and I couldn’t be more grateful for wonderful family and friends and the opportunities and experiences I’ll get.

But it won’t be here.

At least I won’t miss the humidity. 

‘I would like to hold my little hand
how we will run away
how we will crawl
send me on my way.’ - ‘Send Me On My Way’, Rusted Root

Family?

Song of the Day: ‘The Call’, Regina Spektor 

I know that some people just do not get on with their family members.

And more often than not it’s a generation thing that just can’t be overcome.

But it pains me when friends hate on their parents. 

They don’t do it maliciously. They’re not determined to hate their parents because they’re horrible people who don’t deserve life, or anything.

They just don’t understand their parents, and their parents in turn don’t understand them. 

And that creates a rift between parent and child, which can be painful and scarring and hard to get over.

Though, often, as people grow up and move away from their family members, they are able to appreciate them more. Friendships bloom from a lack of interaction, and people bond with thousands of miles betwixt them.

But it’s kind of sad that their relationship came to that. That they couldn’t be friends without the extra milage between them.

None of my friends, my non-related friends, have become my friend by me staying away from them. More often than not I’ve annoyed them to the point of inurement and they just put up with me. Which, in time, turns into an appreciate of sort for my quirks and never-ending presence, but still. We don’t become friends by sitting at opposite ends of the room never talking to each other.

For some people the distance does help the relationship, and they’re better off for it. I know three thousand miles between us has made me appreciate my sister as one of the best people I know. And now we can stand each other and have fun and hang out. Of course, we get annoyed (as siblings do), but we’re not just sisters anymore, we’re friends too.

Sometimes I wish people had the relationship with their parents that I have with mine. It’s hard for me to not, since they’re two of my best friends and we manage to act more democratic and communal than family-like. Which isn’t saying that we don’t have our family problems - everybody does. But we’re able to talk about things and work things out and not get hung up on the mother-daughter father-daughter sister-sister relationships. We manage to treat each other (most of the time) with the respect you’d save for someone you don’t know.

Which is another thing that bothers me - why are we so mean to our family? I’m definitely included in this - I’ve managed to treat my parents and sister more shittily than I treat my friends. But what makes it okay for us to treat them way worse than we treat our friends?

Is it their sense of permanency? As if nothing we do will ever be bad enough to make them not love us or not talk to us or just stop being related to us - as that isn’t something you can actually change. But their status of ‘not going anywhere’ has managed to work it’s way into our subconscious as justification for the crappy way we treat our family.

You’re stuck with them from birth - it just seems wasteful to not try and see and appreciate the real them.

Granted you probably see more of them than most, and very likely their unattractive sides.

But someone likes them. Someone sees something worth liking. Which means you probably can too.

Why not take the opportunity to practice being a friend to someone and be ahead of the game when it comes to meeting unrelated people?

You’re granted automatic friends and acquaintances for life at birth - why not make them your best friends and be luckier than most from the start? 

Life giving
hand holding
worry listening
rarely scolding
problem fixing
bacon bringing
praise giving
always singing
understanding
not reprimanding
thought sharing
never demanding
kind and loving
real seeing
forever parenting
the best at being
good people
best friends
love your family,
I recommend.

It's Hard.

Song of the Day: ‘The Call’, Regina Spektor 

It’s a hard feeling when you’re crushing on someone who isn’t aware.

It’s a hard feeling when he mentions in passing a crush he has on another girl.

It’s a hard feeling when you realize that you’re not spending your time justifying his bad traits like you usually do with your crushes because you’ve also come to realize he has none, or very few.

It’s a hard feeling when it’s one of your best friends.

It’s a hard feeling when you want to tell the others in that circle of friends, but are too afraid of weirding things out and making it awkward.

It’s a hard feeling when you know you’ll be three thousand miles away from this guy you’ll never tell for three months.

It’s a hard feeling to realize you don’t want to spend those three months getting over him.

But it’s a harder feeling to think you won’t get over this, you can’t get over this, and you’re wallowing in self-pity.

So you pick yourself up, brush off your hands, shake out the tired and keep walking. Maybe daydream about that cute nerdy guy you’ve seen around who you just KNOW is into Star Wars and probably plays World of Warcraft.

And then you remember who you do love, who does love you, and why life is so wonderful.

Regardless of all the hard feelings and stress and anger and angst you’ve had thrown at you and you’ve thrown at yourself the last couple of weeks.

Stay the optimist. Or at least try. Even trying will leave you leagues ahead of the other players. 

A piece reserved
deserved, she hopes
but copes when it fails
when it falls through
when the ship sails
and she’s shattered anew
a place prewarmed
but misinformed, she is
says her heart
sometimes her head
time to restart
a softer tread
a hand not grasped
gasps, she hurts
disconcerted by the lack
almost unexistence
her mind attacks
rushes to the defense
a hope yet to be crushed
flushed, she dreams
redeems her self worth
she refuses to desist
ignores the dearth
and stays the optimist.

DTH.

Song of the Day: 'Strawberry Swing', Coldplay 

I can’t tell people things.

Instead, I’m passive aggressive and rant about them to a third party who usually doesn’t know the person who caused my anger.

Or, it seems, I write about it on the internet for the two people who follow me to read. Go figure.

Either way, I don’t do well with telling people when something is wrong or when they’ve done something to piss me off. 

Which is entirely hypocritical of me. And I’m aware of that. And I hate it. 

I preach communication for the benefit of relationships more than most. Whenever someone is telling me about something someone did that upset them, I usually defer to ‘well, have you talked to them about it?’ or something of that ilk.

I imagine it comes from my family - while we may not be the best at how we approach our problems, we talked about the things that bothered us. Granted with much screaming and raging, but we got it out as best we could and that usually resulted in a fix of some sort.

And I think there’s always some part of me that just wants the person to know that they’ve done something to piss me off. How can you NOT notice you’re doing this to me? HOW. HOWHOWHOW.

But I rationalize my not telling them, either with the venting I did to ‘get it out of my system’ or the fact that I’m usually over it after a day or so and it’s no longer a problem.

But then it happens again.

And again.

And - wait for it - AGAIN.

And it’s a problem, and I don’t tell the person, and I’m not acting the grownup like I know I should and wish I could be, so I don’t tell them even more because I feel immature for not bringing it up in the first place, and then they’re never told.

Or they are, and I blow up like freaking Mt. Saint Helens did. Twice.

In THIS particular instance, the worst bit is she’s doing to me EXACTLY what she claims infuriates her to no end when others do it.

SO HOW IN THE HELL CAN YOU NOT REALIZE YOU’RE DOING TO ME WHAT YOU FUCKING CLAIM TO HATE.

Lil bit of bullshit, lil bit of hypocrisy. 

And then my inability to educate her on her actions and my pissed-off-ness. 

‘Just because I’m hurting 

doesn’t mean I’m hurt
doesn’t mean I didn’t get what I deserved
no better and no worse.’ - 'Lost', Coldplay

Drama Llamas

Song of the Day: ‘If This is It’, Newton Faulkner 

College has been hard for me.

I mean, no more than for most people, so it’s really not that big a deal. But I bring it up to preface my actual point for this post. So, moving on. 

The first couple months I spent very little time outside of my room, save for classes and getting food. I didn’t have any friends to hang out with, so most of my time was spent huddled in my pajamas on my bed with my computer, trying to reconnect with home from so far away.

But then after those two months, I began spending time with Meg - and things changed. Quite a bit. I had someone with whom I could not only get food and meet up after classes for homework, but to hang out and just be.

Sure, with her friendship came her drama, but I’d rather suffer through that than lose her friendship. Not just because I’d be excessively lonely, but also because she’s become one of my best friends.

Which is actually saying something, because I don’t make friends that easily. I can keep them, to be sure, but my usual modus operandi for ‘making friends’ stems from awkward moments and lilted conversation. And that actually means I don’t make many. Sure, there were people with whom I was friendly, but none who would go out of their way to hang out with me or even get to know me. Which made it hard for me to do the same.

But now, with this new semester and me with direction and an actual major, I’ve met SO MANY awesome and wonderful people. And I have my own circle of friends within the production majors - which I of course had to lovingly dub my ‘Drama Llamas’.

And I came to the realization today that I am rarely happier than when I am with my llamas. Maybe when I’m just hanging with Meg and we’re not simply homeworking. Watching 'How I Met Your Mother' with her has been awesome, as was making our way through 'Trueblood' together.

But ALL the time I spend with my llamas is great. Even when we’re in the design studio for hours on end working on neck-breaking projects that all we’ll do is complain about. Our group dynamic is so weird and silly and breathtakingly funny. Even some of the upperclassmen in the department have said that, were it not for their shared majors, they wouldn’t be friends with the others of their grade. They’ve even commented on our relationship and how different it is from theirs.

What’s great is that our time within the context of class is always fun and wonderful. But we also do things outside of the classroom - like teaching Katie to ride a bike, or Beja driving the five of us to the beach (or at least attempting to). Even simply watching movies while we work on projects in the studio. We’ve become our own little family. Granted, it’s extremely convoluted (I won’t even try to explain it outside the five of us) and wacky as all hell. But it’s OURS.

I'm rarely more comfortable than when I'm with them, rarely more at ease and simply happy. Which means a hell of a lot to me, after a semester of discomfort and downright despair.

Having them, simply HAVING them at all has made this semester so much better than last. We’re all designated to spend time together working, and we’ll have fun to boot, and make messes bonding all over the place. It’s heartbreaking to think that I may not be able to spend another semester with them simply due to finances.

‘Everybody wants to be understood
well, I can hear you
everybody wants to be loved
don’t give up
because you are loved.’ - ‘You Are Loved (Don’t Give Up)’, Josh Groban

Where is the Line?

Song of the Day: 'Resistance', Muse

There's a line between teasing and just being mean.

it helps if the teasing is countered by some genuine niceness on the part of the teaser, but it isn't always so.

I'm all for sarcasm and wit and banter and jokes at other's expense. But when that's all there is coming from one persons, it certainly leaves something to be desired.

I joke with my friends. I'm excessively teasing with some and have reached downright bitchiness with others. But I'd like to think I'm a good enough friend to A) BE a friend when they need me and B) know when to stop without crossing the line. Or at least try to be cognizant of where that line may lie. And hopefully my friends trust me enough to let me know when I've crossed the line. Sure, it's certainly fun to make fun of people and make them the butt of a joke, but not at the cost of a friendship.

What makes me sad is that there ARE people who don't value that friendship enough - or at least don't seem to - and allow it to devolve into nothing more than biting back and forth.

And I know there are some people who use it as a defense mechanism and are afraid of getting hurt - but the way to acquire and maintain a good friendship requires some love to go along with all the jokes, however cliched that sounds.

I wish people could trust people more. But more than that I wish people were more trustworthy.

'Why does the one we love
become the one who makes you want to cry?' - 'How', Maroon 5

Nineteen?

Song of the Day: ‘Final Countdown’, Europe 

So.

I’ve been nineteen for a little over a week now.

And let me tell you, it is just riveting, the changes that have ensued.

^heavy sarcasm^

It just seems like little more than a stepping stone to bigger and better things. Like middle school.

At eighteen you can vote, twenty you’re no longer a teenager, and then it’s on to drinking the the fun of your twenties. And then, you know, growing up and stuff.

But nineteen...

All it really allows for is a slight feeling of superiority over all those silly eighteen-year-olds. The way eighth graders looked down on all the ‘sevvies’ as naïve, annoying little buggers.

Granted, it’s a very necessary stepping stone.

But at this point, it’s hard not to feel like al you’ve accomplished is succeeding at being the oldest you’ve ever been.

And that still doesn’t stop you from feeling slightly superfluous.

‘It just takes sometime 

little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride
everything, everything will be just fine
everything, everything will be alright.’ - ‘The Middle’, Jimmy Eat World

This Could All Be Mine Someday

Song of the Day: ‘A Star is Born’, Hercules (An Original Disney Animated Motion Picture)

Today I got to tour the Paramount Theatre in Seattle.

I got to meet the technical director, props master, and main fly guy. I went into dressing rooms, up onto the grid, into a special viewing room (in which, the TD Mike said, Mel Brooks had been at one point or another), onto the stage (where ROBERT PLANT was rehearsing for a show. NBD.), into the main house, down underneath the stage where the orchestra pit lowers down on hydraulics, and even into the main house where Joe the props master explained how the two front rows of seats can be hidden below the floor to allow for a bigger orchestra pit.

Now, this wasn’t any special trip with a class, nor was it the prize in some competition or something. No, this stemmed from my own initiative. Damn straight.

After talking with some upperclassmen in the drama department at my university, they told me how it was pretty standard for the production majors to intern for a theatre company during the summer. So I decided to look for some opportunities around my hometown - hence the meeting with Mike and the subsequent tour of the Awesome Theatre of Awesome.

All I can think about now is how freaking amazing it would be to work at a theatre. And as an intern I wouldn’t even be paid, but I’m STILL wigging out about it all.

And I can’t believe that *I* took it upon myself to email the technical director at a prominent theatre and coordinate a meeting with him.

Overall, it was such a surreal experience that I don’t know if I’ll ever stop reeling. I got my own private backstage tour of a theatre I’ve only ever been in as a member of the audience. And furthermore, everyone was just so casual about it - and that made it THAT much more incredible.

It certainly is a wonderful feeling when dreams come true.

It’s even more amazing when you feel the beginnings of them forming.

‘From the Dairy Queen to the head of the parade
in a blink your life could change
this could all be yours someday’ - 'This Could All Be Yours', Guster