Rehearsal Diary 2: "Well excuse me Miss Laurey!"

Better tonight.

I walk in and the director grabs me by my shoulders and says, "LAUREY (sometimes I wonder if she knows my REAL name) GUESS WHERE I GOT A CALL FROM!?" ... she received a phone call from Italy. Italy is where the boy who is playing the second male lead, Jud, is currently. She thinks she would like to make him the first male lead, Curly. We are all happy about this because we NEED a Curly, and low and behold this boy has called... just to check up on everything (weird, right?)... and gets the news that he is the lead. YAY. Halfway through rehearsal a scruffy young man walks in and is immediately cast as the second male lead, Jud. WOO. WE HAVE A FULL CAST. What wonderful news.

This fellow, in Italy, that is going to be playing Curly is very handsome. I saw a photograph. Did I mention that we just so happen to kiss several times throughout the duration of the play?

Everyone was a lot nicer today. I talked to everyone, we all call each other by our character names. I think it's cute. I'm in a much better frame of mind about it now. I am excited to dive into my script and start learning my lines. =)

Lies

I can't remember when I became so afraid to tell the truth: the whole story. I build and build and build upon these lies, these shaky foundations. Finally I find myself looking down from the tall building I've built, and placed myself on top of. I am peering over the edge, watching it sway at the first sign of a light breeze. Not dependable, nor sturdy. The only way off is to jump, and if I'm lucky, I'll walk away with a bruise. I start to build again, but somewhere in the mortar, in between the bricks, are little lies that eat away at the very essence of my building. It crumbles and it falls. I know no other way. I've built some of these buildings far too high and as I see they're about to fall, I find the only way to stay alive is to build higher and higher... the higher I build, the longer it takes to get to the ground if I should fall, I am merely postponing my certain plunge. Too high to jump down now, so I've got to keep building. I keep building even though I know it's inevitable: One day, this city of buildings will crumble down to the ground and I will have to struggle greatly to find myself somewhere beneath the ruble.

Cruelty

I have a Facebook. On Facebook there is an application, or program, you can add called "Honesty Box". This serves as a way to anonymously tell people what you think of them. There have been many sweet comments left in my Honesty Box, encouraging, inspiring, flattering. There have been just as many terrible ones. Tonight I see that yet again, a girl, has left a cruel, cruel comment in my Honesty Box. Too crude for me to post in this blog, I'm afraid. What to do? Of course part of me wants to reply and let her have it. My sensible side quickly calms the storm and comes to the conclusion that all is better left alone. BBF, a very good friend of mine says this : "some people...make other people feel bad cause it makes them feel better about themselves. as...lame and corny as that sounds...it's true." Thank you BBF, I will try and remember that. It's hard, but I will try.

Rehearsal Diary

I can feel my heart beating in my chest, dreadfully nervous. The girls sitting across the way glaring in my direction and whispering when I say my lines doesn't help much. Already feeling completely insecure- they're making me feel unwelcome. I am called on stage and I am completely flustered as I feel like I am being harshly judged by the chorus girls. I forget which is stage right and which is stage left and I'm frantically writing in my script trying to keep cool on the outside. The stage lights are melting my makeup and I feel so very out of place. It's my line again and I gently slip back into my southern accent, into my character, into Oklahoma. I forget about the chorus girls, the stage lights and stage directions and I begin to do what i love most, lose myself in someone else. The director's voice brings me back to me and I feel an overwhelming sense of disappointment. I hold my breath until we begin again.

Towards the end of this rehearsal we sing together as a group. There is a girl who sings particularly loudly. She holds the notes out at least two beats longer than necessary. I am getting the feeling she is trying to be heard. It makes me even more uncomfortable as I remember how many times she congratulated me on getting the lead yesterday.

Apparently the boy that was cast as the lead male in this production bailed. I am left without a lead to share the limelight with, and it's proving uncomfortable. I am feeling alienated without my other half. I don't want to be the only object of their jealousy, I want someone to buddy up with, while all of the rest of the kids my age seclude themselves on the other side of the room.

I am learning something from this. I must be learning something from this. I have to be learning something from this. Please let me be learning something from this.

It feels like I never actually left.

Rj and CC are now equipped with their very own Macs. We iChat every night around 10pm until 2am. It makes me feel closer to them. I love ichat. Thank goodness for my macbook. CC calls it his "white mistress" stealing the time away from him. I laugh at that because it's exactly how I feel :p.

Viva la Vida

Life is a series of unforgettable moments. When I think back on my life I see those funny, tragic, unforgettable memories. Little moments strung together across time. I came across another little moment worthy of being strung onto Life's string of memories. When it was over and I was walking away, I realized that these are the moments worth living for. This is what life is about. These are the things I learn & grow from, these are the moments that make me who I am. Small and maybe insignificant to everyone else, but it meant everything to me just then.

Laurey

I was called and offered the lead female role in Oklahoma! The gal's name is Laurey. I am very excited. My first lead in a musical =). As dad says, "Your first off-Broadway Musical!" ... Haha, so very true.

Mystery Guest

Upon walking into my room this evening I find that there is a very large dark insect on my headboard. As I have a phobia of bugs, I scream and the critter scuttles behind my headboard out of sight. Aj and Cj are currently armed and looking for this (what I think might be a roach). I am standing wearily outside my room as I watch Cj near my bed (where this critter may be hiding), I hear Aj reprimand Cj, "GRAB YOUR WEAPON!!" I have promised them four dollars each if they can catch and kill it. I am never sleeping in my bed again. Just want to make that clear.

** Edit: Cj has just informed me that, "This is ridiculous, I am going under the bed." I think this warrants an extra dollar for the little warrior.

Oklahoma--- where the wind goes where?

I went and auditioned for Oklahoma! last night @ The Red Barn Theater... which quite literally looks like a red barn. It was a good time. I sang (a very tiny bit of a song from a musical) and then they had me cold read from the script (which requires a southern accent!! So cute!) It was an open audition, so I sang and read in front of my competition, which is good and bad. My Nana came with me and told me afterwards that she saw how much acting filled me up, how all of a sudden my demeanor changed and I looked happy and excited. "Well duh" I told her. It's what I love to do, how could that not make you excited? The director was a very sweet lady, she said she's been directing for years. She did not once look up at anyone performing- she just listened. She said she knows how it feels to be on the other side and she always likes to call people no matter what- so on Thursday she'll be calling us all to let us know what parts we got, or what parts we didn't get. Lucky enough I got to fill out this sheet beforehand that said whether or not I would take ANY part and which part would I like to be considered for (I put the two lead women... again another DUH) I also checked that NO I wouldn't accept any part. I did this not to be snotty, but to prevent myself from spending a ton of rehearsal time on a show that I'm in for less than five minutes. I will be sure and let ya'll know which part I got, or didn't get :p

The Dark Knight Experience Part 2

This is the real reason I wanted to write all about The Dark Knight. All that other goofy stuff really was for my entertainment only.

I expected Heath Ledger's performance to be quite good... seeing as it's being talked about by members of the Academy. However, I didn't expect it to be as good as it was.

I was in awe with all the character choices he so diliberately made. His facial expressions, and shaky mannerisms. The Joker was the first, real, three dimensional character I've seen in a long time.
I loved how he wasn't just evil... there was a story in his eyes. I wanted to hate him for what he was doing but I could see that there was a motivation. His character wasn't flat- He wasn't just being mean, he was very sick, and very twisted. He made me feel sorry for The Joker- which, I believe, is what Batman eventually feels. His character had so many facets and dimensions. I was completely blown away. One of the best on screen performances I have ever seen.

He changed the way I feel about acting in a way. Usually, watching movies, I feel like I'm watching a movie with actors in it. I am watching a movie with George Clooney or John Travolta. I'm not watching a movie about the characters they're playing. The Dark Knight actually led me to a different conclusion in regards to itself. I felt like this was something that was happening somewhere in the world, and I was watching it. I watched how he walked, and laughed, and thought many times that he must be insane from getting into character so much. Looking at him, watching him, made me realize how important the details can be. How important the shake of a hand, shuffle of the feet, blink of the eye can be in putting together a character. He really delved in deep for this one. Usually I approach a character as they are given to me. Very 2 dimensional, with just enough "acting" to get the part across to the audience. Only once before in my life have I become the person was playing. Watching The Joker in this movie reminded me of how powerful that can really, truly be. Thanks Heathcliff.

I guess Christian Bale was OK. His Batman voice sounds like he has a lisp. Maggie Gyllenhal was adorable, and very good at her role. As you can see, in my opinion, The Joker stole the show... just like he's stealing this here blog entry. =) Blah, Blah, Blah- I feel like I'm rambling.
I WISH I could talk to him about how he prepared for that role, how amazing would that be??? I read somewhere that he kept a journal as the Joker for four months before shooting. Inside he wrote a ton of things about the Joker, and as the Joker, including things he thought the Joker would think are funny- one of them being AIDS. Also, I read an interview with Jack Nickelson... It said that Jack was extremely upset when he wasn't asked to play the Joker in The Dark Knight. Jack's only quote after finding out that Heath had died was, "Well, I warned him"... apparently Jack had told Heath that the role was cursed and to stay far away from it, or something might happen. Weird right???

To be honest- this makes me change my mind about not wanting to do film. Weird for the girl who has detested film acting for all of this time.

The Dark Knight Experience Part 1 (no spoilers)

Heath Ledger does a phenomenal job as The Joker in most recent installment of the Batman series...The Dark Knight. (Man, I really enjoy writing in italics...) 

This is the story of how I came to be able to say the above statement with much confidence. 

Ok, HE and I go to see The Dark Knight on Friday July 18th- the day it came out (stupid idea, dear readers). Previous to this outing I have lurked the Internet and found every scrap of information I could find on Mr. Ledger's performance in this film. I do this partly because I can't stop obsessing about his death, partly because he's extremely attractive, and mostly because I am very excited to see this "Oscar worthy" performance everyone is jabbering about. So in order to prepare for this movie going experience I read up on all the critics' opinions. They're all very positive. I'm stoked. 

HE has requested that I see this movie with him. I had originally planned to see this film at it's midnight showing, when HE told me he had work, I quickly made plans with some friends to see it at the 12am showing. I caved and decided to go with HE, because HE wants to see it with me-and I'm nice like that. I tell HE I'll go with him but I still insist on seeing it on it's opening day (after his work). HE warns me ahead of time that on a Friday night and opening night of The Dark Knight the theater is going to be extremely crowded and I won't like it- did I listen? Nope. Was he right? You bet. 

We get to the ticket counter and I realize I have a $10 gift card and 6 $1 bills- obviously not enough for the arm and a leg total of two $9.50 tickets. I refuse to overdraw my account, as does HE (we're both pretty broke). HE has no cash. Crap. We walk around this mall that appears to be mostly under construction- attempting to find an ATM- no such luck. We walked for a good twenty minutes around the mall and gave up. I convince myself of how badly I want to see Heath Ledger and Christian Bale... and end up using my debit card... justifying this action by thinking about how wonderful the two aforementioned actors are. (I didn't overdraw!! Woo!!) The searching fruitlessly, and use of the debit card leaves me a little agitated. 

To top off my already irritated state the 8:30pm, 9:15pm, 9:30pm, & 9:45pm showings were full (mind you it's 7:20pm)- we were destined to see The Dark Knight at 10pm that evening. I huff and proceed to walk BACK to the car mumbling under my breath about what I am going to do with my  life for the next 2 1/2 hours. HE worsens the situation by saying, "Hey, you were the one who wanted to see it today"... No brownie points for that. This makes me even more angry. I start walking quicker- so he knows he's made me mad. **EDIT: After reading my blog HE says, "you know that i purposely walked slower when you walked faster" ... ahh, what a guy! ;)**

The ticket woman advised that we come an hour early, so I decide we should go an hour and 20 minutes early, because I assume everyone else will show up an hour early, and we'll be 20 minutes ahead of the game! WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Everyone else showed up hours earlier, which puts HE and I in the back of the line. I am feeling rejected. 

(This is about 1/4 of the line)

We've been waiting in line for almost an hour and I am putting HE through a series of unanswerable questions such as, "How many people do you think are in this line?", "Do you think we will have to sit way up front- because I get headaches sitting up there?", "How many people can they fit in a theater?", "Do you think we will get good seats?", "Do you think maybe they will split us into two theaters?", "Would you say we're in the middle, or back of the line?" - This last question is deemed unanswerable because there was no way in hell to see where the line even started. (My apologies to HE) 

I continue to eat a quesadilla I picked up before we got there out of my purse. HE insists I take it out, but those movie people have me paranoid about the no outside food rule, and I insist that they're going to take it away. HE disagrees. We both stand quietly as I stare at the line ahead of us, trying to resist the urge to ask HE those unanswerable questions again. I am very worried about getting a good seat. The ice cream at the concession counter catches my eye and I am quick to ask HE to save our spot so I can get some. I get the feeling HE is relieved to see me go a couple feet away for a little while. I am happy to get a couple feet closer to that ice cream. 

(more to come in The Dark Knight experience Part 2)

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

I am tired tonight, and I start my nightly "lurk the Internet" routine by typing "Romantic surprises" into my Google search engine, hoping to read about cute things boys do for their significant others. What can I say? I'm a sap. I run into a site with 101 Romantic ideas, of course it makes a) my heart melt and b) me wish someone would do those things for me. Topping the list of romantic things, in my opinion, just so happens to be the first two:

"If your girlfriend is going out of town for a couple of days, tell her you're worried about her and that you've hired a bodyguard to go with her... then hand her a teddy bear"

"Buy a package of glow in the dark stars and spell out "i love you" above your significant others' bed so when they go to sleep, they see how much you love them"

( I paraphrased that last one because I am too lazy to pull the site up again).

Then I ran into this : www.mymeangirl.com a website by some guy who details his expiriences with his girlfriend, which are hilarious (in my humble opinion).

It seems to me that I have reached the ultimate level of boredom.

Family

Being with my family is awkward and uncomfortable. I completely despise being in large groups of family members, it makes me nervous, and sick. Even worse are all the snide comments made to me from one family member about another. I hate that a lot of us pretend to like the others. It feels fake. Everyone complains behind everyone else's back. Except for the select few- the good ones. The loud, outspoken, real family people. The people that the family really centers around. The ones that make plans and coordinate things, steady and dependable.

Typically I'm OK with one or two family members at a time. I'm good with my aunts and uncles when we're separate from the rest of the clan. My cousins kinda make up for it. I think cousins are God's gift. I adore all of my cousins. They're like siblings, only not as consistently annoying.

I hope that one day I won't feel like this anymore. I hate, hate, hate it. It's awkward. I hate awkward. I love my family, it's just hard to relate. On both sides- my mom and my dads. I feel fake, like we're all being fake. Maybe it's my age =\.

Spoonfuls of peanut butter.

I eat when I'm upset. It's the way I've always been. I've recently been put on a diet of strict low fat, low carb foods and exercise routines. I don't mind much because who wouldn't want to be healthier? I love peanut butter, and because it has protein in it, it's something I am allowed to eat. Obviously not in excess, but I have always been a fan of bending the rules. Lately when I'm upset I go into the kitchen grab a spoon and shovel out a huge scoop of peanut butter. I take it back to my room and eat it. It makes me feel better and I can write it off as a protein.

Here's something I just word vomited onto the page. Take it for what it is, whatever it is, I'm not really sure.

Carousel

Around, around we go on this colorful ride
You are two paces ahead, I'm two behind, but if you turn and look from the other side
it's just the opposite.
I am on my stagnant horse, and you on yours, we turn faster and faster; I can never catch up, you can never fall behind
We beg to go faster, then slower, then faster again, but the change of pace does nothing for our static steeds
As we spin round we hand our tickets off and pay the fee attempting to win a game that was never meant to be won
Our faces sadden as the tickets dwindle and we realize our time left on the ride is short
Neither of us realizing that all we have to do is step off our pedestals and walk off together
Instead we scratch and claw and scream and yell just to keep turning, anything just to keep spinning, keep trying to win the race that can't be won.
You are two paces ahead, I'm two behind, but if you turn and look from the other side
it is just the opposite

Dg4

I can't tell you why, but I have some strange connection with this boy- at least in my eyes. Something about him, I'm not sure what makes me feel close to him. I adore Dg4, to an absurd extent. In my eyes, he could do no wrong. Not to say I love him more than my three other brothers, just to say that man, I feel very connected to the kid. I have a memory of him that I will ALWAYS keep. He was about 6 months old, and seeing as he was my dad's first child with my stepmom, I was feeling a bit jealous. I remember being very upset that MY daddy had another kid. I was sitting in the backseat of the car with him one afternoon on the way to my stepmom's mother's house. I stared at him in his car seat. I was caught off guard when he looked at me, straight in the eyes. We stared at each other for a full minute. I knew I would remember that forever. After that, I wasn't jealous of Dg4 anymore, in fact, I learned to love him very, very much. Something in that moment told me that it was OK, and that in some really weird way Dg4 understood, and understood me. I love Dg4, I love Dg4 a lot.

Momma Bear

I harbor a lot of resentment towards my mother. This resentment was made very apparent to me tonight.

I'm at work when my mom calls and says she is going to the ER. My mom has been to the ER 4 times in the past year. I don't ask her what's wrong. She tells me I need to come home and watch my brothers while my grandfather takes her to the ER. Aj and Cj can't stay home alone, at 10 and 12, even though I was staying home alone at 6 and babysitting at 7. Because I am living with my grandparents I am completely irked at the fact that I'll be spending the night at home to watch the boys. Selfish, I know. I closed work an hour late and didn't get home until 1120. I sped all the way home, frustrated. There have been many times in my life when I felt like I had to take care of my mother, many more times when I felt as though she was not competent enough to take care of herself, let alone her three children, myself included. I learned quickly to take care of myself. I remember, vividly, my stepfather teaching me to vacuum at 6 years old, then reprimanding me for doing it incorrectly. I was given the Stair Stepper exercising tool so that I could reach the washer and dryer at 7, and from then on I washed, folded, and put away the family's laundry a lot. I began watching my little brother at 7, he was 2. From that moment on I babysat my life away. Another memory set in stone is my weekend nights in Jr. High. My mom would come down the stairs, dressed to go out, and tell me she needed me to watch the boys, her and my stepfather would be home around 2. They paid me, I never, well rarely, argued- but as they walked out the door I felt a tinge of something, something not nice, something sad, something that wished I could go spend the night at a friends house instead of watch my brothers. My mom made working out her priority for a year or two when I was about 11. She would leave at noon and come home at 7. I made dinner for the boys. I hated that. But I felt like if I didn't, it wouldn't get done. I felt like if I didn't take care of the kids, my mom wouldn't know how to. She couldn't do that and take care of herself at the same time, and I knew that all too well. The last thing I needed was for my mom to be in hysterics with herself. I was the glue, that kept her barely hanging on in her loveless marriage, and inside her completely unhappy self. I made it easier for her to get up and go away from everything, without a worry or a care about the children she had at home. She never realized that. I did a lot for her, as cocky as it sounds, and I won't forget it.

Really, I understand that people have grown up worse than I have. I have a wonderful family, and am blessed with many things, but despite this I continue to harbor resentment towards my mother for, what I believe, was taking my childhood from me. Placing far too much responsibility on me, and ignoring my pleas for her to stop. Ignoring the letters I wrote, and heart to hearts I tried to have. On several occasions I sat up in my bed and tried and tried to work up the courage to tell her how I felt. I wanted her to spend time with me. I wanted her to take care of me. I remember complaining that she never baked with me, and everyone else's mother baked with them. A menial task that meant the world to me at 8. A menial task she couldn't muster up the strength to perform. I wanted her to mother me. And I tried to get that to happen, lord knows I tried. But I guess some things are just never meant to be. It just wasn't meant to be that way. I think it affected me negatively in the light of relationships. I need attention, and I need a lot of it. I am so afraid of being ignored, left alone for too long. I think this might be part of the reason why.

All of these feelings surfaced when I realized how irritated I was, as opposed to concerned, that she was on her way to the ER. You know how once you start thinking about something it explodes and you realize how many fragments and facets it actually contained? I suppose you could say that's what happened here.

FWFWFWFW

It's a whole different ordeal when people send you FWs that contain misinformation about presidential candidates. *#$(*^%&$!!!!

"Places!!"

I wish I could take a vacation. It's been so long since I've been out of state, to somewhere I'd really like to go. I wish I could go back to New York. I want to spend my money on a ticket there, obviously I can't.

I feel like I failed myself a little bit, because for the longest time I had myself convinced that I'd be going to college somewhere specific to my love of theatre. I was convinced that I was going to be somewhere else. Somewhere I belonged. Yet, here I sit, getting ready to move into an apartment for a year, my schedule of classes sitting on the table, and again my entire year is planned out in front of me... but this time, instead of everyone telling me what to do, instead of being able to blame this on requirements and such, I did this to myself, I chose this for myself. I don't have to do anything, don't have to go to high school anymore... don't have to be here anymore. Here, here I am. And there's a little part of me that pulls on my heartstrings and reminds me of all the things I wanted to do this year, reminds me of how I wanted to be, reminds me of all the things I said I'd do, and all the things I said I wouldn't. Of course this sounds a little melodramatic because I have so many years left to do these things. Still it's sucks that I'm doing what I swore over and over I would never ever do. It sucks that I have to spend another year trying desperately to get to where I really want to be.

"Break a Leg"

No one understands what "Break a Leg" means, so dear readers, let me enlighten you. In Shakespeare's time an audience stood while watching a play, as opposed to today's comfortable sitting option. If they liked a particular part while clapping they would stamp their feet as hard as they could- making as much noise as possible. Naturally, if the actors were doing a good job, the audience would stomp. Unfortunately many audience members broke their legs stamping so wildly (this sounds completely stupid, I know, however it is true. Look it up... or take my word =] ). So, the phrase "Break a Leg" comes to encourage an actor or performer to deliver such an amazing performance as to cause someone to stomp hard enough to break their leg. Obviously because the strength in which with they stop determines you (the actors) likeablity. So anyhoo... you get it now. Please stop using it incorrectly.

*This post was brought about by a friend of mine wishing our mutual friend, a violin player, to "break a string" which makes no sense at all, though it sounds witty. Anyway, it's not. So go and "Break a Leg"

p.s.- Anyone watch baseball? The National League is so SO close... yet here we are again... looking forward to another year added onto the streak for the American League. Darn All Star Game...

805am

805am is when I woke up this morning, and something is definitely wrong with me. Crap.

FW: I'm an IDIOT

I hate forwards. Unless they are extremely hilarious, ie: a bird dancing to the backstreet boys, I don't want them. I don't want to fill out surveys about my favorite food, and what I want to name my first child then "FW" it to all my friends to do so. I don't want to FW this to FIFTY people so I don't die of Cancer. I don't want to see pictures of dogs and cats laying around each other. If you're sending me a FW it needs to be something so hilarious it made you pee your pants. If not, I don't want it. Don't send me stupid stuff. Am I the only one who HATES to see "FW:" in their inbox???

Settlers.

Settlers of Catan is an amazing board game that I was taught by my father. It's extremely complicated and appears as though it might be extremely boring and of no entertainment value at all. This is not true, not true at all. The sad part is that this game that has quickly become one of my favorites... is being traded in (by my family) ... slowly but surely by this game- Carcassonne (just so happens to be a city in France) which I do not at all understand, nor care to.


Ahh, the evolution of board games is enough to get one down.

Cause for concern for the Worrier

HE is going on a camping/hiking trip for four days in August and will basically be out of contact all four of these days. Knowing how stupid boys can be, this brings great concern to me, the already great Worrier. But can you really blame me?

Edit: I shouldn't have used the word "stupid". Some boys think they are invincible, which causes them to do things that invincible beings might do... but truth being they are not invincible, these 'invincible people acts' ultimately cause the un-invincible young men to be introduced to harm. Did I use the word "invincible" enough?

A New York State Of Mind

I feel like I'm stuck. This endless stretch of desert is making me feel despondent, and no where feels like home anymore.

I remember stepping out of the taxi cab once we arrived in New York City. I swear to you I had never felt more comfortable in my entire life than I did in that city. Never felt more at home. I was convinced I wouldn't like it. I had preconceived notions that it would be too crowded and touristy, nevertheless I was excited to visit. I remember very vividly the sigh of relief, the overwhelming feeling that very nearly brought tears to my eyes when I sat down in the theatre to watch my first Broadway show. That was where I belonged. I had never been happier. I have never been happier.

It rained 60% of the time I was there, which wasn't very long. Now every time it rains I close my eyes and make believe I'm where I want to be. I'm aware this sounds remarkably romantic, this idea, these thoughts. I'm aware they sound embellished, made to sound deep, piercing, sad. But they are not. They come straight from my head, they live there every day.

I am in a New York State of Mind. I just want to go home. Home, home, home.

DSE- The Double Shot Expresso

I fall asleep at 4am, and wake up at 12pm extremely tired, so I fall back asleep. I wake up at 1:30pm and try to tell myself that I need to wake up, but I am so tired, so I fall back asleep. I wake up again at 2:30pm and tell myself five more minutes... so at 2:35pm I use all the energy I have to lift myself out of bed. A pathetic existence.

At 2:35pm I sit up in my bed and look around at my messy room. My chaotic life. All of a sudden I am flooded with the list of things to do. It's too much for me to think about, so I crawl out of bed and step out of my room into my family's living space, where, unfortunately, I find my mother. "I wondered if you were going to bother waking up this morning", she grumbles. My mother is currently unemployed, and having no money to go out and do anything, she sits on the couch and watches reruns of Reba, and soaps. She is consistently in a [excuse my french] bitchy mood. I glare at her and walk back into my cave where I crawl back in bed and open up my Mac.

At this point, 2:48pm, I am still so tired. I can't figure out why. I come to the conclusion that in order to do all of the things I need to do I need energy. Coffee. Caffeine. These two thoughts cause me to shut my Mac, and hop in the shower, as I won't ever go anywhere without looking halfway decent... which constitutes hair and makeup. After this lengthy process it's 4:30pm. Almost dinner time and I've barely been awake for 2 hours. I get in the car and contemplate driving all the way to the Starbucks with a drive-thru which is about 7 miles out of my way... seeing as there is a Starbucks right by my house. Gas is expensive, so I chose the closer of the two and reasoned I would just have to walk inside. I survey the inside of this popular coffee shop and once I realize there is no one there I know, I take a breath and walk to the counter. The Starbucks man says, "What can I get for you?" I have no idea. "Something with lots of caffeine" because it's very true. He suggests the Venti Double Shot Expresso with 6 shots of caffeine. I take it. My total is $3.03. A small price to pay for a day's worth of energy. Cheaper than a gallon of gas. I take my very large dose of energy and head to my car and prepare to taste it. I am apprehensive. That's a LOT of coffee. It's yummy. I realize upon drinking a fourth of it that I should probably eat something before downing the rest. Peanut Butter on toast is disgusting to me today, but I eat it anyway.

It's 5:58pm right now, and my DSE has failed me. It has left me feeling ridiculously dizzy and sick. Crap. I could have spent that money on gas. On the bright side, I cleaned out my car, and folded my laundry. I think the only reason I did those things is because I felt badly for having spent money on something so useless. I figured I had to pretend like it motivated me and gave me energy.

Today was a failure, and this post was far too long.

Illuminated

HE & I got to see each other today, and everything was right again. Everything is right again. And this is why : " I have reflected many times upon our rigid search. It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us, on the inside, looking out. Like you say, inside out. Jonathan, in this way, I will always be along the side of your life. And you will always be along the side of mine. "


Then it rained, and I was even more sure.

Cricket

I love to sing, it's my favorite thing to do. When I was young, very young, my dad nicknamed me "Cricket" because I was always singing- how appropriate.

Today I got to do my favorite thing. Joe- a boy I went to High School with -is a very talented singer. He and I sang in the talent show together last year, and have met up again today to delve into another duet. "Move On" from Sunday in the Park with George, and maybe you could guess... it's by my favorite.. Stephen Sondheim. We ran through it once or twice and posted ourselves on youtube to be judged by the world. We're planning on performing this duet at a recital in September.

More exciting though, than our meeting today, is our plan to sing something from my all time favorite musical, Sweeney Todd. That would be the dream.

There is a list of parts I want to play before I ... kick the bucket. The part that tops that list? Wouldn't you like to know!! Mwuahaha... to be continued.

Untitled

If I don't do a show soon, I am going to go crazy.

With all of my heart... [An extremely self indulgent post- my apologies if it doesn't make sense]]

Sometimes I wonder if it's the actual act of letting go of something that's painful, or if it's coming to terms with the fact that you have to let it go. Maybe they are both of equally difficulty.

I believe that everything serves a purpose. Some things are short lived and the lesson is easy, some are not so short and the lesson not so easy. I think sometimes it takes until long after the experience is over to realize what lessons you took away from it. What the whole ordeal really meant to you in the scheme of things.

Today I'm looking back on a relationship that has fallen into the category of "not so short and the lesson not so easy". I look back on the time that has passed and I am searching, searching for an answer among all the questions. What the hell am I supposed to take away from this mess? Sure, I've grown as a person, realized some of my strengths and a lot of my weaknesses... but I am struggling to find something bigger than that. Something that makes this pain worth while. Something that allows me to not walk away empty handed after saying goodbye. Something to help me say goodbye.

When you make a list of pros and cons your heart gets in the way and you can't hear your head. The pros outweigh the cons when you count the cons as pros. And when you have a long list of cons you start to knock them off one by one - blaming yourself for a good deal of the bad stuff. Your list of pros is again, longer. So you throw the paper away and are resolved to the fact that tree pulp and graphite are not going to solve your problem. You know that really all you're doing is procrastinating the pain. This sad realization, for me, prompts tears. On cue, here they come like a great flood. Turning the mess of paper I'm sitting in, back to tree pulp. My crying eyes desire to reminisce so I get out our box of "stuff". Memorabilia from the past three years. The flooding continues.

I have repeated this process, I don't know how many times. Stuck, like a broken record, never getting any further. Then tonight I ask myself the question I posed at the beginning of this blog. Tonight I feel like I'm one step closer to letting the pain envelop me, feeling it, and then moving on. One thing is for sure- it never gets any easier.

Celebrity

I am the resident celebrity today at Dad's house. The boys don't see me often and so my guess is that they're excited I'm here. Dad says "Everyone holds hands in the parking lot" and the boys say in tandem "I want to hold Katie's hand!!" We get ready to sit down in our booth and the coveted seat is the one right next to me, so both boys claim it. William pulls at my arm all through dinner, "Katie, Katie, Katie...." my name is the only thing I can discern from his babbling. I nod my head and respond with "Oh really?" He shakes his head and says, "yup". These boys are adorable, and I am truly blessed to be their big sister.