There's nothing worth writing about lately.

A Dear Friend

Tim,

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

Sincerely,
Kaitlyn

(Check out Tim's blog)

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.

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.

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.

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

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