The Lesser of Two Awkwards

Yesterday was going to be a good day. I had hung out with Lisa, Jess and Rachel the previous night and despite the fact that we were all penniless as VH1 celebreality has-beens, we managed to have a good bit of fun and agreed to do it the next night. I agreed to accompany Jess the next day to sell her 8 textbooks.

I woke up yesterday and putzed around, dolled up my myspace, took a shower, called Jess and she tells me that she’ll be later than expected because Rachel’s insipid, monochromosomal raccoon/dog mix Luke committed doggy vandalism to their living room. Apparently dogs hold grudges and when they get pissed off or bored, they say “To Hell with the hands that feed me,” chew up the couch, 2 unopened packs of cigarettes, an expensive Lane Bryant bra, and various other unmentionable objects, and then return to their ever-present shit-eating grin with dopey eyes.

And people still wonder why I am a cat person. The worst they can do is claw up the furniture. They don’t chew up much.

But I really needed to leave my house because Mom morphed into Mr. Hyde every fifteen minutes so I offered my hands to manual labor to save my sanity.

Jess took a while so I played Morrowind for about 20 minutes. I have had my Xbox for about four years and have had that game since we bought the console, so it’s understandable that it isn’t in pique condition anymore. But it was decent when I was the only one playing it because I wouldn’t have many games saved on it. Since my sister and mother have been playing, however, memory has been taken up with a ridiculous amount of saved games. My one game I had started when I first got the console. I was a level 60 assassin with a badass sword (several of them, in fact), entire towns fearing the very mention of my name, and a small cult following. I was invincible, omnipresent, and powerful. I loved my character.

So I load that game and three minutes into it, I decide to save before going into a cave when the screen goes black and tells me “Your disk might be dirty. Press A to Continue.” So I do BUT MY GAME EST DISPARU!

It’s completely gone. All that work, all the grief I got from my mother for killing everyone, all the fat loots. Bye bye.

At least mom was more sympathetic.

Apart from hanging out with friends and losing a complete chapter in my life, I made three decisions last night:

1.) When the play is over, I will hopefully be driving Professor Bruno better than I can now (enough to be allowed to take him out by myself as my car). So I will try like Hell to be employed as a server. They make a decent amount of cash which I like a lot better than a check) and I am such a people person that I can deal with damn near anybody.
2.) I would ideally like to live in the Brumby lofts right down the street from the square. The rent is pricey for just a studio but I can always abandon my dreams and find a cheaper studio. But they’re lofts, they’re nice, and it’s really close to the square. Funny that one has to pay outrageous prices to live the bohemian lifestyle and I have to aspire to do that.
3.) I have decided where I will go to Graduate school! I hope to get into Tisch in New York. Albeit, that is a long way off and a bucket of money in denominations I have never seen, but I would love to finally go to school up there. I wanted to do it originally for undergrad but it was like half a million dollars to go for all four years. I decided against it because I didn’t want to put that kind of debt on my parents, let alone myself.

But that’s a mini outline of how Lee wants her life to go. In that order! I expect friends to help me stick to it because I want to succeed at theatre and actually have something to show for it. And people can suggest side projects. I think after I get a job, it’ll probably take me a good while to save the money to pay for my own place. But I’ll be happy to do that.

That was much to long of a post. Oh well. I hope it was informative, inspirational, and indisputably the most life-affirming thing you’ve read today.

Women Don't Have Cocci

I'm in a frustrated mood right now. I am annoyed by all the minute things, like my fingertips being to damn big for the keyboard; my stepdad walking back and forth around the office, making the floorboards shake and crack with his weight on them; the paranoia I feel that he's reading over my shoulder even though I know he couldn't care less.

But I am excited about Case teaching me to drive my truck. Because once that happens, I can drive over to Adrian's and just show up and pick up my stuff. And, for good measure, I'll tell him I'm pregnant with one of his friend's babies because I fucked them all. And with a twinkle and a wave, I will ride off into the sunset, watching his bewilderment.

And then I can get a job. And money. And move out!

But now I need to bum money off people to pay Jess. Ei-yi-yi. But I may have a lead on some grunt work I can complete for some pocket cash.

I also found out that Bill Clinton is speaking at my school tonight and just found out about 2 hours ago. Great. I could spit on his limo and have the Patriot Act burn my ass.

There's not much to report other than rehearsal is going very well and I busted my ass on the stage, bruisig my coccyx and hurting the hinges where my thighs meet my pelvis so I walk like a orangutan. But everyone in cast gave me a hearty high-five yesterday saying, "How's your ass/back?" I was entertained and happy to see that people cared. It's nice commaradery.

Oh! And there is now a place where you can buy cigarettes on campus! The Local 537 (The Smoker's Union) has (non)officially endorsed it as our spot.

I suppose that's the end of that.

Seven Days Makes One Weak

I haven’t been on my computer in two days. I feel a little weird. I missed some emails and some stuff on Facebook, but that’s generally it. I haven’t really missed much, but I did get to talk to my childhood friend Craig today and he’s coming out to Georgia sometime soon, which sounds extremely excellent. And he’s funny (and cute) as hell- just as exciting.

I haven’t achieved much in the past few days. I did see a man get sucked into an elephants asshole which broke the hymen of physics and split my stomach in stitches of Schadenfreudian laughter. I also saw Alanis Morissette’s version of the Black Eyed Peas “My Humps” which made me need to change my pants. And I played Mario on the Wii for hours last night and didn’t get home until around 5 in the morning.

I still have some studying to do tonight but I will postpone that probably so I can watch Waitress. I heard it was really good so I hope it lives up to expectations. I thought I was supposed to get the 1936 version of Sweeney Todd but I can wait on seeing that. I may actually start reading A Clockwork Orange. I need to feel literate this semester.

I also need to get back into writing so I may start writing some more short stories and comprise them into a book because I’m not devoted enough to write a novel and cannot continue one story idea for hundreds of pages. I have too many ideas and anecdotes to not have a small story composed for each of them. It’s either that or write a stand-up routine. Which I may consider.

On a final note, I have determined that Tuesdays and Thursdays are my favorite days because I have my English class, a 3-hour break, and then rehearsal. Mondays and Wednesdays are class, 1.5-hour break, class, class, and rehearsal. Fuck that Monday noise….

À demain!

I Need a Sip from a Box of Rain

I have been indescribably busy these past few days and I feel as if I haven’t achieved anything at all. I think I broke up with Adrian by being a heartless bitch and leaving him a voicemail. If he doesn’t check it, it’s his loss if I start dating someone else. He could make an effort and, for want of a better phrase, grow the fuck up. Relationships are about give and take and I give a lot. If he knew how stupid I was and how I made decisions based on him before we were dating, I wonder how he’d feel. I know that I am young and I have a lot to learn but I do know that just being reliable and communicating with someone is a good basis for a relationship. I’ll miss his company and his bemusing comments but he clearly does not want anything to do with me. Rip that Band-Aid off and pick off that scab.

Rehearsal is going fantastically well. I am learning more about my cast mates everyday and I love learning about different people. And I’ll be working with these people in the future so I guess I should get to know them now! Many a cute guy in cast. And I believe many of them are straight too so that’s wonderful as well as ironic. You’d think a bunch of male theatre majors would lean the other way.

I’m devouring the same information from articles and excerpts in my performance studies class. How many ways can one possibly embellish on how every action we perform in day-to-day life can be interpreted as performance? I hope not all my summaries and reflections sound the same. Because that’s how these articles sound to me…

I have an in-class essay about John Keats and his poetry tomorrow in English. He’s a whiny emo bitch who died wheezing and enjoyed finding inanimate, non-sentient objects more beautiful than he was. He didn’t need a bully to tell him he would never amount to anything; he does that on his own. Self-deprecating poetry is depressing and I do not want to walk out of a class filled with loathing and self-doubt. I want to feel enlightened and gain some insight. The ironic thing about his poetry is that it was written during the period of Romanticism- the pinnacle of the Enlightenment period! More irony for thought! I hope I rock my essay, though. I know the logistics of it. I just need to organize everything in that nice formulaic style and actually touch on everything. I want to get an A badly because I arrogantly think that I am better than many of the people in that class. I hope I don’t get in trouble with thoughts like that because I know when I’m good at something, I can get cocky.

I suppose that’s sufficient for five days without a word to say.

A Hammer Makes a Pretty Sound

I have a wretched cough. It sounds like I'm expelling my organs. It's lovely. I woke up to find it this morning. I suppose it doesn't help that I have a very dusty room.

We got the piano tuned today and that took a lot longer than I thought it would. But it sounds wonderful, resonant, and on pitch now. I got to borrow the tuner's guitar tuner to tune my guitar and now I really want one. Anyone want to buy me one? They're like $25. I would love you and give you my first born anklebiter!

I cleaned my room and sorted my albums. I found a slew of CDs my dad gave me that I have never heard of but at the time didn't have the heart to get rid of them. Now that I'm a cold vicious person, I can. I did get to listen to a Pretenders album he gave me and it's really catchy so that's a keeper.

I determined that my research paper for this semester will be on Sweeney Todd and the story's impact on the horror industry. The story's been around for over 100 years because it was published in some magazine back in the late 1800. And then Stanley Holloway recorded the song "Sweeney Todd the Barber" (my first introduction to the tale) in 1956. And then some guy made it a play and Stephen Sondheim took the play and made his smash hit musical back in the late seventies. Then nearly thirty years later we have Johnny Depp playing this completely vengeful, vindictive villain cast vicariously as a victim with a vendetta against Judge Rickman. Delightful, delicious, delovely but that's Cole Porter. I am completely psyched about this paper. I get to watch old movies and read different stories. It's a beaut!

I also talked to Adrian today. After three weeks of utter, thumb twiddling silence. I do not expect our relationship to be saved but as the world's fence-sitter, I could seriously go either way. I do tire of fighting to keep my head up and putting forth effort into something that eats it and shits it out on my shoes. But I do hope that something good happens. Maybe I don't want it to end. I suppose I am a masochist. Kayna will murder me. I love him, I want him back, I want my independence, I want to be able to be myself around him. I want my assertion and confidence back and I think I can seriously put effort towards myself because the results will be much more rewarding.

I believe that be it. Fare thee well!

Gregory Peck My Eyes Out

I woke up at seven today and was forced to go with my stepdad to school at 7:20. Joy of all joys. I walked around in the cold, pissing down slush and water with the wind billowing under my skirt and was quickley reminded of why I tell people I hate snow. I don't inherently hate snow itself; I hate the aftermath.

Emberlea and I walked to Waffle House for breakfast and she paid which was nice because I'm becoming incresely poorer as of late. I need to make money very soon or my nicotine addiction will have to be curbed. And then I went back to campus and read my assignment for English, worked on my paper for Voice and Articulation, went to class and putzed around. I talked Karen in her office for about 10- 15 minutes. I got my books yesterday so I'll be able to do a lot better in all my classes.

I watched Moby Dick starring Gregory Peck today in rehearsal. He's one fiery Ahab. It's ok. Wasn't a cinematic masterpiece.

Had cake. Now have heartburn. A demain!

There's No Business Like Snow Business

It's snowing!
It's snowing!
It's snowing!

I forgot how much I love the frozen water that falls out of the dreary sky. I often say that I hate it but I find that dancing in it is as liberating as smoking in front of my parents. I cannot wait to make an angel and pelt frozen, firmly packed balls of slush at my friends.

Today was eventful. It was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey (the mascot of the Libertarian party) and I got to walk around in it for about an hour. I learned that my collarbone vibrates when I do my voice exercises. I got to play a lesbian in my Performance Studies class. I also learned that a clove cigarette is called "un guave," which could definitely be the wrong spelling of it.

There is a potential snow day tomorrow, although, living in Georgia, I'll probably be alerted of it at around ten when my only class is at eleven.

Today is a good day. I'm hanging out at Scott and Kayna's with a bunch of other friends and am enjoying myself despite the guilt my mother layed on me earlier for not being considerate and mindful of my stepdad's birthday tomorrow and not volunteering to help out. But Kayna's going to help me make him a cool gift. I'll probably make him a computer god of some sort. Something Pratchett oriented.

I need ideas for writing a play. If someone stumbles upon this, give me a word, a color, a place, an object, something that I can use to write a scene that could turn into something bigger. I'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks!

Bonne nuit!

How Much Does a Grecian Earn?

I learned today that I can rely on solely rely on my mother and myself for getting me places. Because whenever I ask my comrades, I often feel that I've laid a burden on them and they have the obligation to say yes. I also have this problem with people being late. I don't care if you think 30 minutes is enough time to drive from your place to mine, pick me up, and then take me to school. Traffic on Chastain sucks and I'd rather arrive earlier than late for my damn class. I phoned her an hour and a half before I needed to be there and asked her if she could do it last night. Surely that's notification and a wake up call enough.

I went to my class and we were to write about John Keats- his life or his works. I chose kind of an analysis of the two poems she chose for us and then talked about why those things were said based on the impact of past experiences. He praises objects and birds. Lesser things than man. He's basically whining "Why does life have to be so hard? Why can't I be happy all the time like that bird or stoic like that urn?" He's essentially an Emo kid who died wheezing. But I can't put that into my paper, so I basically say that he's a little obsessed with death (come on- "Ode to a Grecian Urn?" An urn is what you put your dead uncle Ted's ashes in). And I write about other stuff in his poems like the tone, the themes, the language.

And everyone else in the class writes the same damn biography. I heard it once; I don't need to hear it again.

It's just the fact that I put effort into a petty assignment that wasn't even a grade. It was like a participation exercise. But I put thought into mine. I guess that because I love words and writing in general that maybe I'll coast but I got no feedback. No one paid attention. I want critisism and I want it now, goddamn it!

Rehearsal was awesome. I love my castmates and the things we do. I just left completely wiped out and will now go play my cleric. No rehearsal on the morrow but plenty of classes. Oh joy.

24 Hours Makes One Dazed

I went to school at 8 and had Voice and Articulation at 9:30. My professor once again made the "smoking makes you larynx turn into beef jerky" mini speech. Although my favorite moment of my day was when she asked, "How can we keep our voices healthy when we're sick?"
Greg responds,"Smoke A LOT."

I went back to the circle and hung out there for a while. I refilled my new coffee flask with stolen extra bold Starbucks and ended up completely jittery the rest of the day. It was awful; I became so figgity.

I also made the mistake of calling Hillary Clinton the Hildabeast in front of one of her socialist voters today. I support Leon Trotsky.

Rehearsal went well. I have to master a Northern New England accent. It sounds like a blend of all the U.K. plus a dash of the Bronx. I haven't grasped it yet but it'll get better.

I've chosen my monologue for GA Renfest auditions. Julia from Two Gentleman of Verona, Act 1 Scene 2. I'm working on memorizing it right now but it should be ready by next weekend!

I guess that was my day. It was a doozy but vastly entertaining and enjoyable. Adieu!

Couch Potatoed

I have acheived next to absolutely nothing today.

I installed Scumm VM on my computer so I can play the old-school Lucasart games without the gliches I've experienced without the software and have essentially played on them all day.

I shall receive my textbooks in the mail soon in the next couple of days hopefully and then will accomplish broadening my education so that will be healthy.

And I have rehearsal this week. I'm going to be very busy so I suppose it was beneficial for my mental health to have a vegetable day. At least I wasn't hooked up to a life preserver.

I read an article in Rolling Stone which was basically the staff bashing every Republican candidate in the run. It was amusing yet I'd rather it be informative and diplomatic rather than a childish "You smell cuz you do. You're a twit cuz you are" type deal. But it's the most liberal magazine in the country and they aren't about to be intelligent and respectful any time soon so there go my hopes and dreams. I'm not entirely Republican nor entirely Democratic but I often sit on the fence with every issue brought to my attention. Silently observing and listening to people's quarrels with the pro and con list. Albeit entertaining, it is not exactly the greatest of positions to put myself in. I could just be a passive activist- "You! Find a cause for meto support and join every organization for it. I shall live vicariously through you!"

I will probably now go forth and play Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis just because I can and after my kid sister goes to bed, I'll get on her computer and geek out on Neverwinter. Because I'm a beast of a cleric and don't you forget it.

Until the sun sets on the morrow, I bid you all a good night.

Eat This Bagel- I'm Not Jewish

I had quite the Sabbat Shalom Saturday today, filled with frugality and shmear on a bagel.

I began my day at about 9 and am currently running off 6 h0ours of sleep, as most piss-poor college kids are want to do. I putzed around on the computer for a couple of hours, typed a paper for my English class, and plucked some strings for a bit. Then I called Jess to see what she was up to. She was free for the day so I decided to hang with her for a few hours and pick up some bagels for my mom.

We hauled ass to East Cobb and sat in Sabbath traffic by Etz Chaim (local synagogue) to go to the closest Einstein's. I go in there and order my half dozen bagels and my personal toasted everything bagel with smoked salmon shmear. Eating those makes me look like a truck but they taste so good so the guilt just melts away.

We head to the adjacent Caribou Coffee where I find a Christmas travel mug for $4.50 (score- wholesale!). So I go up to the counter and look the very cute barista in the eye and say, "Do I get a free cup of coffee with that?"

I see my total go to $4.77.

Either he found me equally adorable, found Jess' girlish giggle appealing, or I'm just a damn good con-artist. Either way, my feminine wiles got me a free Turtle Mocha for which I am eternally grateful.

Headed off to local Old Navy where I purchased a plaid shirt that for some reason made me think of Hyde off That 70s Show for about $6.00. Another well bought thing on my part and made me feel quite thrifty.

Until next time if I don't die tonight, adieu adieu to you and you and you.