Holy shit. I had a blog.

I honestly have no idea when the last time I posted anything was.
I don't remember what i was doing the last time I posted.
I have no idea what my blog even looks like.

So I'll just fill you in on a bunch of things.

I was probably going to major in theatre the last time anyone bothered to read this. Chances are that I was even working on a show as a stage manager.
I graduated from the University of Houston in December with a degree in Media Production. Which basically means I was film student, but I didn't really watch any films. I didn't do theatre in any capacity for about a 3 years stretch that was ended in 2015.

Currently, I'm working as a video editor at an education company and stage managing an original work that'll be making it's debut next month.

Recently, I helped a friend out with a short film that ended up winning best directing in a local contest. We worked on it for 4 days. Nights technically. We shot it at night.
I was sort of a combo grip/audio.
The final night of filming went until about 1:00 AM and graduation was the next day (same day?). I got no sleep and was falling asleep in my seat at graduation, but it was worth it.

I also got to work as a production assistant for The Voice, but I signed a bunch contracts that I didn't read for that, so I'm not going to say anything more than literally this sentence on it (but it was really cool).

I guess that point of this blog was to be some sort of comeback story after falling my freshman year of college. And I guess I came back. I mean I graduated.

So, if I ever come back to this, it'll really just be to talk about whatever it is I'm working on at that time.

Here's the short:
Sleepwalker

Way Longer Than Expected (That's What She Said)

Wow. It's been a little while, huh? So this is really more a catch-up on what I've been up to.

First: I quit my job at Walgreens. Basically, I hated it. No schedule flexibility, among other things.

Second: I recently changed my major! Yes, I know. "There she goes again, pretending to fully commit to something that she'll regret a few months from now." But this time, this time I think it will stick.

I should explain myself. Let's travel back to a few weeks after the start of the semester before the start of the semester. I auditioned for the School of Theatre at the University of Houston, specifically the Stage Management program. Now, let's fast forward to a few weeks after the start of the spring semester: I finally get a letter from them (they said it would take a few weeks, and it took a few months).

It was a rejection letter.

Okay. Fine. It sucked. It still kind of sucks. But, then I was faced with a decision. Basically, do I spend even more time in school trying to do this theatre thing, or do I move on? Do I even really want to do theatre? Truly, money is no object, do I want to do it for the rest of my life? And honestly, I saw myself getting bored and frustrated with it. Like, it would be really cool for a long time, but after that, what?

Do I just stick with my History degree? What will even do with it? Teach? I mean, yeah, I'd be a badass teacher, but do want to be a badass teacher? Not really what I had in mind.

How did I chose theatre? So, here is the story of how I ended up doing theatre, thought about it, and changed my mind.

6th Grade: I am in a program called  AMT, or Art, Music, Theatre. I excel at all three (in my mind). But it is with the last bit, Theatre, that I decide that I want to be an actor. Looking back, acting was the one thing I was pretty bad at. Regardless, I did those fun middle school thespian tournaments. Storytelling, monologues, lip sync (which I actually have a trophy for), etc, etc. I even had plans to go to Julliard, the only fine arts school I had ever heard of at that point (LOL). And so went my middle school years. Somewhere in this time I watched a behind-the-scenes featurette in my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD. They were building a cave (relevant).

High School: No theatre. No theatrical involvement of any kind. But it was always in the back of my mind to get back to it. Maybe. One day. Probably not. Then, and I really can't remember how it happened, but I think my mom was there, I was looking through the course catalog or something ad there it was: Technical Theatre. All the joy of theatre without all of the "in front of people". A one Ms. Wilson was my first teacher. She was good, but favoritism was a problem with that one. Seussical the Musical was the big show that year. I helped build the set, and to this day I have a piece of it hanging in my room. The next year I was in Tech Theatre 2. Tapia was one of the best teacher I ever had, real talk. She knew what she doing and let us run the shows more than we had been used to I think. I did a lot in that one year. I helped design a show. I was a set supervisor. I was a light board operator. A sound board operator. That year was awesome. (Don't forger that PotC thing yet okay?)

College: Oklahoma State University. I was a Theatre major (What else would I be? No really. What else?). I even accepted to the B.F.A. Theatre program for Scenic Design. I'm not sure if it's difficult to get into, or even mildly prestigious in any way, but I was damn proud. I did costumes for Our Town (lame) and was the Assistant Stage Manager for Thoroughly Modern Millie (AWESOME). And then, it was over. And my fault. Oh well. So I moved back home, went to a community college (and let me tell you, it is nothing like the show), and had plans to transfer back with an improved GPA. NOPE. I still failed in virtually every way. Sometimes I still do (but I'm funny so it's okay). So I stayed and just went for an Associate's of Arts, mainly so that I wasn't wasting any more time. In my last year there, I started getting involved in community theatre. I sent an email to the Country Playhouse asking for work helping out with sets and small things. Nothing big. The next day I received a phone call. They wanted me to be a stage manager. Nothing big right? The only experience I had was from a year ago in college as an ASM. But I did it anyway. And it was great. And I was good at it. I'm not good at very many things, so this was a revelation. I did a couple more shows at Theatre Southwest. I graduated with my AA. I  went to the

University of Houston: (This could have gone under College, but it was getting waaaay too long (hehehe)). I declared a major in History with every intention of double majoring in Theatre SM. I really enjoy history, and it's a more practical field, just in case. I got a sample prompt book ready to go. I admit, maybe I took it a bit lightly. I didn't think that there were 18 year olds out there who had the opportunity to completely design their own show. But, still, I thought I did pretty good. I was the second oldest one in the room outside of faculty. The rest were high school students, except for the one guy older than me. I was jealous of their talent. Anyway, I didn't get accepted.

So now we've finally gone full circle in my story (right? because I'm not re-reading this). But what about PotC you ask? That's what I'm getting to. In my 1296846 re-evaluation of my life, I remembered PotC. That movie got me into theatre. But what if I should have just gotten into movies? I don't know a damn thing about Broadway. I never watch the Tony's, but have yet to miss an Academy Award. Even when thinking about theatre, I picture myself somehow transitioning into film and television. I'm still glad that I did theatre for as long as I did; I'm sure that it will me help me out in the long run in some way. But it was always something else. And that's okay. It just took me a while to figure it out.

I just checked, and realize that I still haven't told you what my new major is.

My major is Media Production with a minor in History (still holding on, that one is). I'm going to do something with this degree that I love. I will move out to LA, and the rest of my life will play out like the feel-good movie of the decade. Starring me. And my best friend Emma Watson. And my boyfriend Ryan Gosling.

Jealous?

guilty jealousy.

Just sitting here waiting for class to start. I should be picking a primary source to use as material for my research paper.

Research paper. How college does that sound? But that's not what this is about.

This is about how horrible I feel when I creep on facebook and then get jealous of the lives that my friends are living.
I know I shouldn't. I should be happy for them that they're living the life. And I am! I really am.

But that doesn't stop me form feeling the way I do. I feel like I'm in the middle of the ocean.

You know, the waves are crashing all around you and moving so fast, and you're trying your damnedest to get somewhere. But you just can't seem to move forward, you're only preventing yourself from moving back.

A stationary bike would also be a good metaphor, but only if everyone around you had regular bikes.

Anyway, the point: Everybody seems to be living life. They travel and do awesome things and have to go out with other people.

I barely see my own family. I shit you not, there was a whole 2 day period where I didn't see my mom at all. We live in the same house. We are fairly close to each other. And I hadn't see or spoken with her in a full 2 DAYS. As for travel: I travel to UH 5 times a week. There's my travel.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I was going to go see The Perks of Being a Wallflower (which was fantastic by the way. If you loved the book, then you will love the movie) as a personal treat because I just hadn't gotten a break. I just felt like I deserved it. Then I felt like my mother, who always talks about those things.

My life is just a blur of work and school and responsibility. And that's just not something that I'm used to.

I want to go places and do things! I know that it'll "come later" and "in the long run you'll get it" and "this and that". But I don't want to wait. I just want to have some fun. A weekend trip to San Antonio even. Maybe after I pay off UH.

Until then I'll just have to begrudgingly like pictures of my friends' travels while secretly wishing that they didn't have the time or money to do any of it.

I even felt bad typing that last sentence.

rise and shine.

Sleep - the most beautiful experience in life - except drink. W.C. Fields

Yes. Sleep. I can't get enough of  it. I even start to sleep while driving.

Coffee is my new friend. I like coffee.

I might just be bitching about it. Maybe I do get more than enough sleep. I feel like I've been averaging about 5 hours a night. If I ever get 8 hours of sleep, then it means I lost my jobs.
Yes. Jobs. JobS. With an S. I just got another job.

So the list is : Full time student, stage manager (but only for one more weekend), and jobs at 2 different stores. Though I must say that one f the jobs is only temporary.

3 years ago, who would've thought that I would be trying to do so much? Certainly not me. Now I may be tooting my own here a bit, but dammit I'm doing work!

But I'm also so tired. I've already had a total breakdown. I just, I don't know. I just started crying out of nowhere. And I just cried and cried for about 10 minutes straight. I couldn't catch a breath. So there was that moment in time.

I'm just tired. So tired all the time. My days are running together. I just realized that it's Monday. I'm going to have to remind myself that it's Monday all day today. The same for tomorrow.

I'm so tired that I just spelled tomorrow wrong 3 times in a row. I'm going to have to proof read this entire post.

There was an entire week where I was genuinely falling asleep behind the wheel. Loud music can only do so much. I have slapped myself to stay awake. I have physically harmed myself in the effort to keep moving forward.

These thoughts don't even seem to sting together and make any sense.
That last sentence might not make any sense.

Oh well. This post, I realize, really isn't about anything. I just haven't posted in a while.

busy b

Today is the first day of school!

I am currently sitting at Moody Towers listening to the sudden rush of hungry students. I already had something to eat, but there's a sandwich that looks very good.
My next class doesn't start until 1 pm, so I have plenty of time to kill, hence the forthcoming blog post.

How college student-y of me.

My first class was ENGL Intro to Drama. I'm pretty sure I don't need it, but I needed to be a full time student. My 1:00 class is HIST...something. I totally forgot. Something about the American West I think?
On top of my all day school schedule (which I hate by the way), I have to work. And it's not just one job, there's also the show I'm working on: Superior Donuts. Sunday through Thursday night. Work on the weekend mornings. School Monday through Friday.

I've already had one mental breakdown. I mean I lost it. Tears, the whole thing. Well see how long I last I guess.

I am debating whether or not to leave my stuff here and getting that sandwich, or take it with me and risk losing my seat. Because there are a lot of people here. I should have just gone to Chick-fil-A. Or Taco Bell.

I'm also wondering if you need an ID to get into Cougar Village since my next class is in there. And guess who never got an ID?

Back to my schedule. I checked for all professors on ratemyprofessor. One wasn't on there, but so far so good, because the first one was pretty cool. The next one has a good rating also. Tomorrow's first prof was the one with nothing, and the one after her, also a good rating.

So, that's school so far. On to...the show.

So many rehearsals, and so little time. If anything we have a bad ass set. (badass...bad ass?) And Director did it once again with the sound. But the lines! They just don't seem to know their lines. They have to know their lines. It can't be stressed enough. It'll hold us back technically if they can't pull it together. And there's so much I have to do with it.

Things That Need to be Done

-Props list

-Scene breakdown for donuts and coffee

-Stuff that has to go in to fridge 

-Scene breakdown of when coats are taken on/off by each cast member and where said coats are placed and end up

That last one was a long one. 

I think I'm going to go get that sandwich.

*Update: The sandwich was good. It was a grilled ham and cheese. 

about her.

This is really just going to be bitching about my cousin, so feel free to ignore it.

She is 28 years old. 28. Years. Old.
She can barely work a microwave. She got olive oil confused with canola oil. Even though they're kept in completely different containers. She can't cook. Anything. She can make those Tyson chicken strips, but only if she remembers which oil is which. All she even eats is McDonald's: number 7, grilled, only mayo. Number 7. Grilled. ONLY MAYO.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?
I'll tell you what it is.
FUCKING DISGUSTING.

She takes 2 showers a day, but doesn't do enough work to justify it. And for a while was doing her laundry. And only her laundry. Why not just go ahead and do all the laundry? We welcome you into our home, feed you (even though you very rudely try to avoid eating because you're so fucking stuck up that you can't even try the food) and you can't just do our laundry too? You know what that amounts to? It means that instead doing laundry once a week, that washer was on almost 3 times a week! She certainly didn't pay the water of electric.

Dishes. Me and my sister are on a rotation. Every other night, I do the dishes. Except not lately because I have rehearsal every night. But other than that, it's an every other day thing. Cousin only does her one dish, and just leaves the rest. She has done the dishes two nights out the 4 months that she's been here. At first we didn't have her do them because she was a guest, and this was a short term thing, but now it's just fucking ridiculous. When I do the dishes, I do everyone's dishes, including hers.

And the food. Let's talk about the food. We touched on it earlier. How she tries to avoid eating what me and mom cook. She doesn't eat rice, corn, or pasta. The first time my mom made some pasta she somehow managed to totally avoid eating it. Isn't that rude? If someone cooks for you, wouldn't you at least try it? Isn't that the polite thing to do? And recently, she gotten into the habit of buying herself lunch. Wouldn't call someone who's at home and ask if they wanted something too? I've paid for her dinner, my parents have paid for her dinner. But she can't be bothered to call and see if we're hungry? The only thing that she's paid for is some Coke. And that's because she drink about 3 cans a day. We, as a family of five, would have a 24 pack of 12 oz cans of coke around for about a week and a half. When she showed up, we could barely keep that same size pack for 3-4 days.

It was me who finally lessened her drinking. She was having ANOTHER coke, with her breakfast of all the damn times, and I finally said "Another coke? Good lord. Do you drink water?" The next day she was drinking a bottle of water. Only bottled water, never out of the fridge. She too good for the fridge-water.

And she's an total idiot. She has no clue about what's going on in the world. Current events, world news, local news, nothing. My brother, an avid reader, tried to talk with her (which is the closest to talking to a wall you ever get outside of actually talking to an actual wall) about books. Nothing. A part of me wonders if she even knows how to read. Me and my siblings were raised watching Jeopardy, we all read, and we're all doing well in school. She doesn't read, only watches FX, and took 10 years to get a supposed degree.

We were told so many great things about her. That she had a degree in Business Administration; nope, she has a secretarial something or other. That she's a great cook; nope, she couldn't even use the microwave. That she's always going to out to parties; nope, she stays in my room 90% of the time she's in the house.

Does she at least have a job? Yes. Full time. Actually at the same Store that currently employs me. When she found out that I got a job there, the jealously on her face was incredible. And maybe you think it was just in my head. Maybe I wanted her to be jealous. No. Because I wasn't the only one who noticed.

And maybe you even think that I might sound jealous of her. Nope. Not at all. I'm proud of myself for being nothing like her. I were thrown out into the world with $1000 cash, I would be able to do something. She's getting money from family in Puerto Rico all the time. And we have the same grandparents. The only I get from them is $50 birthday money every year; same for my brother and sister. Our grandfather pulled out a loan for her car to be shipped over here. She regularly gets money sent over.

So, no, I'm not jealous, but I am frustrated. I have never been so frustrated with a single person in my entire life. I look at her, and feel frustration course through my body. And I'm disappointed. Because I was so excited to have my cousin stay with us. To have some family with us that could get to know and maybe even get along with. Maybe even move out and be roommates with. But we were lied to, by our own family no less. I can't stand her. I can't wait until she finally leaves.

She just has such a selfish, lazy, "I deserve everything" attitude.

And remember, this is a 28 year old that I'm talking about.

the fork.

There's one thing that needs to be understood right now: I have a tendency to be possessive. Of objects. Not people. That'd be creepy.

Another thing to know: I have a particular fork that I use to eat. It is noticeably different from the other forks, which are clearly part of a set. I feel awkward when I eat with any fork other than my fork. 

SHE ATE WITH MY FORK.

But I stopped her.

There I was digging around the drawer for my fork. Digging in the little thing that holds utensils after they've been cleaned by the sink. And then the almost anxiety. Because if it were full-on anxiety over a fork, I would just have give up on life. Bottom line: I needed. my. fork. So I ask aloud, "Where is my fork?"

"What...this one?" And there it is. In her hand. ALREADY BEEN USED. UGH.

"But it's just like all the others."

NO. NO IT'S NOT.

It has a different look. The prongs are thicker. It's heavier. It's totally different! I know because I held up my fork and a regular fork, and I was told that yes, they are totally different!

Unbelievable. She looked at me like I was fucking insane. I already gave her my room, some of my closet, and now she think I'll let her take my fork. No. No no no. I don't think so.

So that's that. She never used it again. And if I catch her with it, I will fucking lose.