Monday, November 24, 2008


Never been so unhappy in my entire life.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

We're Different

We're both sitting in his bed, on our laptops. I'm looking at shoes, bras and duffel bags. He's playing some shoot 'em up game.

"Travel?" I ask him.
"Yeah, I was hoping someday I could travel."
"With me?" I ask coyly.
"No. You wouldn't like the places I'd want to go."
"Well, how do you know that?"
"You wouldn't like going to the jungle, and not using bathrooms and sitting in the mud all day...Oh shit artillery."
Like I said, shoot 'em up.
He continues, "Sitting in the mud all day doing nothing."
"Why would you sit in the mud all day doing nothing?"
"Because that's what you do in the jungle."
He says, "I bet you'd like to do touristy things like go to Hawaii..."
"And Paris, and Italy" I finish his sentence.
"Yeah, that's not my bag."

This concerns me, a little. He won't think twice about it. I know that because he then says:

"Look at that, you couldn't have survived a missile hit. Look at that, I ditched out of my helicopter. You have a man who can kill virtual people, how about that?"
"You couldn't do that" He says arrogantly.
"I'll have you know I'm pretty good at James Bond"
"Well this isn't James Bond honey cakes."

"The S is about to hit the F here. Because I'm large and in charge."
Ugh, what a boy.

Oral Fixation

Overeating is a symptom of oral fixation. In lab mammals (rats, mice, dogs) oral fixation seems to be related to lack of physical contact. Interesting.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

The Shade of Poison Trees

The decisions I very consciously made are coming back to haunt me now; they're ever present in the words you don't say-or in text messages at 12:03am.

I did some things-over and over- that I'm not proud of. Things I tried to justify, things I kept secret. Things that ate away at me from the inside out until I eventually had to tell you. And every time I told you, for whatever reason, you sighed, cried, then told me it was OK as long as I didn't do it again. Each and almost every time, I did. I did do it again, and there you were like always- forgiving me.

So you see, though you've always been faithful and forgiving I still can't sleep at night when I think about her- and the way she likes you. I can't help but worry that you'll realize I'm really not worth the time. I can't help but think that in reality, this is what I deserve. And I can't handle it. It's all I'll think about for days. I'll dwell on it, and on the fact that I'm not good enough. I'll think about all the things I wish I was, could have been and will be. All of the things I could of changed, and how much better I could have been. And I know that it's all a lost cause, because what's past is past, but it still haunts me. So much so that I can't look myself in the mirror somedays. So for now, I close my eyes and try to think of other things. But I'll tell you, it's easier said than done.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Little Shop of Horrors

My new obsession.

Little Shop of Horrors is a wonderful musical.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Let's Pout

I studied for this past exam in Phil110. I studied hard, and long. I recieved a C-. The previous exam, I didn't study, not one bit... and what grade did I recieve? B+.

Different class same situation: Eng103H- I worked really hard on a paper we did and got an 82%. One night in the middle of the night I woke up, remembering I had a paper due the next day, quick wrote it in fifteen minutes and recieved a 97%.

ugh. >.<

Let's Observe

David, my Phil. professor is wearing a creme colored sweater with navy blue stripes on it. He looks nice today. Our blue books (things we take our tests in) are sitting so quietly on his desk. He is passing them out today. Gosh, I'm nervous. I actually studied for this one.

Good Family Pictures (Thanks, Dad.)

I was wrong. There IS something worth writing about. Here goes.

I am a lazy person, very lazy. More so than lazy I am selfish and stubborn. Oftentimes I dread doing something, not because it's going to be awful in the least, but because I just don't want to do it. Silly things, like voice rehearsals, class, grocery shopping etc. Stupid things I shouldn't fret about. Nh called me quite a while ago and asked when would be a good time for me to participate in the taking of family pictures with her, dad and the boys. The date, though changed once or twice, ended up being this past Friday. Family pictures were to be taken atop a mountain about 45 minutes away. I must admit, I was not very keen on the idea of driving up a winding road for 45 minutes in the back of my Dad's van to take family pictures for three hours. << This is me being stupid, because I ALWAYS have a good time with my family, I must just forget every time I leave them.

Anyway- to the good part. C is my aunt. C is a brilliant photographer (click the link to check her site). She often photographs the smaller families within my larger family (does that make sense?). Aunt C and Uncle E drove in front of us up the mountain, (Uncle E acts as her assistant, apparently). Upon arriving at the green, tree filled part of the mountain we exited the van, and stood at the side of the road awaiting our direction. To be clear these are the models: Km17(me, duh), Dad, Nh, Wg3, and Dg5. Here we are, semi-matching at the side of a road lined on either side with beautiful trees. C took a couple of pictures of us all holding hands walking down the road (so cute). Uncle E stood further down the road and yelled, "CAR" every time he heard a vehicle coming towards us. What a good guy.

That's not the juicy part, though. You see, none of us are really dressed to "hike". I have on open-backed shoes, Nh has on some dress shoes, and all of the boys are in nice dress shirts. C surveys an area off the side of the road and into the woods, taking us with her. She looks around for a moment, looks at us, and points to 4 trees sitting on the top of a VERY steep hill. "Go up there", she says. ... Uh, say what Aunt C? I don't think she realized the severity of the slope here. It took Dad and Nh about 10 minutes to get the little ones up, slipping down a foot for every two they climbed. I thought I would be a genius and try a different way up- really I just made things exponentially more difficult for myself. With the help of Uncle E, I was safely on top of this wretched cliff/mountain/hill with my family. A few pictures of this scariness (scariness because the flat part [the SAFE part] wasn't too large on top of this cliff/mountain/hill), Uncle E points to a log. This log is very long, and very large. It is lodged in some dirt crossing a ravine. It's a good 20 feet off the ground. "Stand on that" Aunt C says. Crap, what? And again, my family is risking their lives for artsy pictures. Wg3 and Dg5 are frightened. Dad compromises with C and sits the boys on the log- it's too high up to stand, too scary, too dangerous. I somehow sit myself on the log as well (again, taking a long ridiculously difficult route thinking it'd be faster/easier etc.). I sat down next to Wg3 and he requested in a little bit of a panic that I hold his hand. Gladly, I did this. We spent some time up on that log, but in reality spent more time attempting to get on and off of it.

On the way down, we traipsed through a deeply cut ravine that went on forEVER. We were not that far from the road, but all of the little white rocks lining the bottom of this crevasse made it difficult to keep one's balance. Nh and I came through the ravine almost side by side. Both struggling to place our feet strategically on what seemed to be stable rocks, preferably the larger ones. My father, bless his heart, picks up this huge stick. When I say huge I mean LONG. About six inches wide and, hm, I don't know, SEVENTY FEET LONG, and he lifts it up. "I'm moving it out of our way", he says... because the stick ran directly down the middle of our path. We could have easily worked around it- it was doing us no harm, nor was it creating any REAL obstacle. I quickly concluded that Dad just wanted to pick up a big stick (what a boy) because he lifted it up and dropped it vertically back down... exactly where it was before, only further down the path. Interesting, right? Immediately after, Dg5 picks up a large stick and begins to do the same thing. 3 adults, almost at once, tell him to put it down. Uncle E says, "Monkey see, monkey do" and Nh and I laugh in agreement.

I always have a good time with them, and I always enjoy having them around, or rather, them having me around. I think about the four of them every day, and think to myself, "I must change my lazy, stupid, college kid ways, call them up, and hang out."

I will post any pictures I can here... you must see the final product to understand just exactly what we were willing to do for good family pictures.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

There's nothing worth writing about lately.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Dear Friend


If you still read this, I want you to know that I miss you dearly.


(Check out Tim's blog)

Monday, November 10, 2008

The Hulk

AJ: When Mommy leaves I'm gunna kill you.
Me: That's not OK, don't say that
AJ: Ok, fine, when Mommy leaves I'm gunna hurt you.
Cj: That's fine, because I'll get angry and you'll get scared.

Ahh, love visiting Mom's.

Friday, November 7, 2008

The President Elect

I am currently watching Barack Obama on CNN. They keep addressing him as, "Mr. President Elect".

In watching him speak I feel proud. Proud that our nation has elected this poised, seemingly intelligent, level-headed man as it's leader. He answers the questions as every "Mr. President Elect" before him. It almost seems that they repeat the question, add in some pretty words, then re-repeat it. It's awfully funny. "Do you feel rushed to choose certain cabinet members?" O: "[Blah Blah Blah]- I am confident we'll have a great team!" Uh, Mr. Barack Obama that was not an answer to the question.

Something I find cute: One of the reporters asked Mr. President Elect what kind of dog he was going to purchase for his girls once in the White House. He answered something like this, "Well, there are two criteria to be reconciled. The first is that Melia is allergic, so the dog will have to be hypo allergenic. The second is to get a shelter dog, but a lot of shelter dogs are mutts... like me. But whether were going to be able to balance those two things, I think, is a pressing issue in the Obama household right now."

Today in my History of Western Civilization class my TA compared Obama to Hitler. As did my hair dresser. This concerns me greatly.

Just some thoughts.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

In His Eyes

He stares at me intently. I stare back, surveying his face. His eyes are beautiful. I thought that when I first met him; his eyes are beautiful. They're a bluish green, and they're bright- almost sparkling. In his eyes I see the essence of him. In his eyes I see the boy I fell in love with, and when he looks at me the way he's looking at me now, I fall in love all over again. I lean over and put my hand on his chest. He looks away- shy. He's always been very shy. As I type this he holds onto my arm, gently rubbing it with his hand. I'm watching him lay here in his striped blue pajamas; He's adorable.

I pause my writing to stare at him some more, and when locked in this gaze everything is OK. The only pair of eyes that can ease all the pain. He gets up off of the bed and gets his acoustic guitar. Laying back down he plays while I write, and I'm thinking to myself, "I could do this for the rest of my life". He's handsome- a good looking boy. Dorky in his pajama set, but adorable all the same.

He wrote me a song once, four years ago. I don't remember how it goes anymore.

Tonight, I will go into his bathroom, take off my makeup, come back to bed, lay my head on his shoulder, close my eyes and let him play me to sleep. I can't help but ackknowledge this overwhelming feeling that this is where I'm supposed to be, this is who I am supposed to be, and he is supposed to be here with me, always. Despite everything, all the bad things, it's the moments like this that melt my heart, and make me remember where it all started. In his eyes I see all the reasons why I love him.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Obama, ama, ama, hey, hey, hey.

So here it is, one of the biggest elections ever in history... and who's not at the polls? That's right. Me. I'm not. Ms. Kateonbroadway is not yet considered an "eligible" voter because of her age. Story. Of. My. Life. Needless to say I was there in spirit, encouraging every enthused voter to vote OBAMA. Again, needless to say: it worked.

I'm at a text rehearsal receiving text message updates every four or five minutes from KA and HE. It's lovely to see the landslide victory. I wished so badly I could've watched it on TV. I hate being an actor.

In this moment: I feel... happy. Excited, RELIEVED... safe. Like maybe this is all going to be OK. Maybe Mr. Obama will be the saving grace... maybe not. Maybe McCain would've been better... who knows. But like I said, in this moment... I am ecstatic. If I could give the entire USA a high five right now- I would. Congrats to us for overcoming racism (at least regarding the presidency). It's a step in the right direction, whether you're a democrat or not.

History in the making =).

Obama '08

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Maybe it's too much.

Sure, rehearsals are only 3-4 (sometimes 5) hours a day... every day, and sure we get the whole morning/afternoon to live our lives. That's all fine- but the outside commitment is outrageous. To learn an entire script, entire songs, all the right notes, and memorize all the blocking in three weeks (and in my case, while going to school) is intense. It leaves little time for fun things like pumpkin carving, University football games, and visiting family- and of course, that sucks. So in my spare time, I'm punching out papers, napping, memorizing all of my stuff, searching for costumes at countless stores in town, trying to remember to eat, trying to enjoy the process, and ripping my hair out. I'm just busy, that's all. I mean hell, I haven't blogged really at all in the past two weeks. I ALWAYS find time to blog