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.  

the cup.

This one isn't really a personal story, rather one that unfolded before my eyes.

My mom has a cup. You know, like, there's always that one cup you use to drink water or something? Well, this was my mom's OJ cup.

First full day that Cousin is here, that's the cup she takes. To drink Coke. For breakfast. What the fuck? I know I'm unhealthy, but that shit is ridiculous. So, mom let's it slide. Just to make her feel comfortable. We can't have some shit go down on the first day, right?

Second day. Again with the cup. Third day, again. Before we know it, almost 3 months have gone by, and she's still using mom's cup. In all fairness, there was ample time to mention that it was someone else's cup and have Cousin get another, but then I wouldn't have a story.

Finally, a few weeks ago, something was done about it. One day, a conversation very similar to the following takes place between me and my sister in hushed tones, even though Cousin was a work:

Sister: "I took the cup."
Me: "What? What cup?"
"Mom's cup."
"You took mom's cup?"
"Yeah."
"I still don't --"
"Mom's cup that [Cousin's name] has been using!"
"You took the cup? Where is it?"
"I hid it. We're going to tell her that we think it's broken."
".....okay."

We relay all of this to my mom. Yes, it seems like a lot of work versus kindly asking someone to stop using a cup. But think about how fucking weird that sounds. "Um, could not keep drinking out of that cup? It's mine. For orange juice." Cousin doesn't understand this family dynamic! We have our things, but she would just look at us like we're fucking crazy.

But how would I know that if we've never told her? Because a similar event happened to me. Before this one. But I like that story more, so I saved it for later.

As for the cup? The cup is currently hiding in an unknown location in my mom's room. Cousin thinks it's broken.

Not a word has been mentioned of it since.

new mini-series.

My cousin moved in with my family 3 months ago. From Puerto Rico.

So I decided to write about it at the suggestion of a couple of people.

A little background for now. Then I guess I'll tell some stories.

As I said before, she comes from the island. She's 28. She's had the incredible luxury of growing up around, and practically being raised by, an aunt, uncle, and grandparents. I call it a luxury because I've only ever pet these people a small handful of time. Maybe 5. Of that 5, I might remember 3. Once they came to Houston. Once that I can remember.

I've also only met my cousin this same amount of times.

So why did she leave a life in Puerto Rico? A life with family who dote on her like a goddamn princess, and (supposedly) friends. We don't know. We may never know. And quite frankly, I don't care too much at this point. We'll get to all that in due time.

The girl has been spoiled fucking rotten for her entire life.

Anyway, she transferred from a store there to a store over here. Same one.

When we started hearing talks about the fact that our cousin, who we almost never see, was moving to Houston, we were pretty damn excited. I offered her my room. Because I do nice shit like that. She got here about a week before mother's day, and we were told that she would have her own place with in a month.

That's what we were told.

It took about that long just to get her damn car over here. Which is a piece of shit by the way.

And now it's 3 months after she arrived, and she's still in my room.

Where am I? I'm sharing a room with my mom.

crazyrandomhappenstance

Yesterday I was waiting for class to start, so naturally I was at the smoking pavilion.

Then my professor walks out of the building. He looks like a damn student. For real. He also smokes.

We had a full fledged conversation about the Fourth of July and family and school. He smoked one Spirit to my 2.5 Camels.

It was weird. Just so weird. But not at all awkward, which was also weird. As for the class, I'm going to pass it so whatever.


As for today, I got my first paycheck! It's direct deposit, so I checked my account online. I have a grand total of....about $88. 


Not even triple digits. Incredible. But we all have to start somewhere.


Speaking of the Fourth of July, I made some bomb ass burgers. I wish I should've taken a picture before they were devoured, but with a whole 88 bucks I can only afford a disposable camera at this point. And let's be honest, how embarrassing would it be to go out and buy a fucking disposable camera? I also made fried chicken. So good. I should've taken a picture of that too. 


What else, what else.......


Superior Donuts! Superior Donuts starts this month! Auditions are July 22-23 and then the next week we start rehearsal and then run Sept 7-22. Or maybe the 23. We'll get there when we get there. So I'll be doing that for a while.

And yeah, that's what going on. There is truly no point to this post, I just felt like I had to update. I'll leave you with this:

Things I'm going to Buy with my New-Found Windfall (in no particular order)

1) A damn haircut

2) A proper camera

3)Headphones

4) A car via saving up

5) Archery lessons (because I want to be Katniss when I grow up)

6) Video games

7) Random odds and ends to resupply my tacklebox

8) A pack of college-rule paper

9) A nice red wine that would pair nicely with a Harry Potter marathon 

10) A cookbook 

11) Gas ($3.08 at Kroger!) 

12) All the Hunger Games books 

13) Some worthless stuff 

tomorrow we run faster, stretch out our arms farther

I don't remember what i posted about last time, but I'm sure I was bitching about something. I figure you can forgive for that because we all need our moments.

Anyway, I feel it necessary to catch you up on a couple things.

1) I am currently taking my last class at Lone Star. Ever. After I pass, I finally get that damn degree.
2) I have been accepted to the University of Houston and will be enrolled for the Fall 2012 semester.
3) I just got a job at a place that shall remain nameless. Because these days you can lose your job over anything.

We shall this place...Store. My first day at Store is tomorrow before class, which prevents me from my usually routine of doing my homework the morning of. but at least I FINALLY have a paying job. Or as my parents said "a real job".

The first thing I'm going to do is get a haircut.

Now that I have a source of income, all I can do it think about the future. Which is strange because the distant future isn't something that I think about. I've never had a real "5-year Plan" laid out that I was going to follow. But now I'm looking at cars and apartments and Chicago and Boston. And none of it is daunting to me; it's as though it's there, waiting for me. And I'm excited for it.

"Chicago vs. Boston" is sort of like my Texas Tech vs. UofH debate a while back. Except that it has nothing to do with college and everything to do with the real world. They're both great for theatre and they're both fucking expensive. Then again, I could just stay in Houston.

I almost forgot about Extremities! It was fantastic. Total switch from Below the Belt. I'm glad I actually got to do it. My next show will be Superior Donuts also at TSW. And after that, nothing until I get properly settled at UH. Which means auditioning for the School of Theatre.

So I need to get a real resume going and a sample portfolio.

The second thing I'll buy with my money: a good camera with which to take artsy photos with. So that this blog can actually have some. Until then:

here's a picture I used months ago. It's the only good one I can find.

summer.

It's summer. It has been for a while now. 

I finished this last semester with the best grades I've ever gotten. That's not an exaggeration. 

3 A's, 2 B's and, unfortunately, a C. But I'll take it over the D I thought I was going to get. My semester GPA was a 3.41. Around this time 3 years ago, I realized that I was suspended from OSU. 

What a turn around. Who knew that all it took to pass school was showing up and doing the work?

It only took 3 years to figure out. Better late than never I suppose. 

I applied to transfer to UH. About 2 weeks ago I got the letter that I didn't get accepted. My dad wasn't even mad at me. He knew that, this time, it wasn't my fault. After looking into it, I found out that UH got the wrong transcript; it didn't have my most recent grades recorded. So I did the transfer appeal with a shiny, new, and updated transcript. I'll find out if I get accepted on June 20th. That's 21 days from now. 3 weeks. 

And if I don't? 

I'm wondering the same thing. I've been wondering that since my first rejection letter. In my arrogance, I just assumed that I would be accepted. I never paused to think "What if I don't?". Would I just go somewhere else? I don't want to go somewhere else. I don't want to set my sets on something, and then force myself to have a change of heart. Again. Every time I want to transfer, something has happened. My grades weren't good enough, they didn't tell me I have to fill out that form!, my grades weren't good enough, that transcript didn't get sent there?, my grades. And at the end of the day, all I can do is blame myself. Because I fucked up. I chose to skip class. I chose to not do the work; to not put in any effort whatsoever. And now I'm stuck and practically forced my father to take out a loan to pay off OSU. 

I haven't even talked to anyone because what do I say? How does that work into a cheery conversation? And who the fuck am I supposed to talk to? I can't talk to my family. I hate to talking to friends about it because it's nobody's problem but my own. And the one person I might be able to talk to has just been flaking every time I ask to hang out. 

I can't sit by myself and brood somewhere. My room is currently occupied by cousin, so I sharing my mom's room. I won't have the house to myself because summer started. And the only things that I'm happy doing are illegal or only take place twice a week. I still don't have a job. 

So what do I do? Can someone just please tell me what to do? Because I'm sick of getting my hopes up. Because I'm tired of doing this by myself even though I'm too stubborn to turn to someone. 

It's summer. It shouldn't be going like this. I should be happy that I'm going to 4 year university, and hanging out with my friends. 

Friends. I feel like I don't have any. I alienate myself? I don't know, but something's not right. 

My thoughts aren't even in order right now. 

So it's summer. And all I do is go about my day. With this...anxiety. That tightness in my chest. I don't know how to explain it. It's just....tight and kind of empty all at the same time. And I don't know what to do. And I'm tired of disappointment. And tired of disappointing others. And it's weird that I'm just typing all of this. And that people who I don't even talk to anymore might read it. And that total strangers might read it. And that I still haven't actually, physically told someone. 

I just sit here and internalize until I'm inside out. 

I heard this sort of thing was supposed to be cathartic. But I just feels worse because it's all at the surface. Just sitting there waiting to be dealt with. 

I'm going to go eat dinner. I'm going to go hang out with a friend. I'm going to smoke a cigarette or 2 or half a pack. I'm to forget about this. I'm going to focus on my show. 

It's summer. 

groups.

I somehow manage to simultaneously be great and awful when it comes to group projects.

Great because I get along with everyone. I saw that eye roll.
Awful because I procrastinate. Don't we all?

I don't know what it is with society and groups. We need to be individuals, who also happen to work well with others. You want me to stand out and be part of the team?  You want me to that likable person that everyone also happens to hate because they're so fucking likable? Like Jennifer Lawrence.

It makes no sense.

But back to this problem of my GOVT group project that's due tomorrow/today at 8:30 am.

My group consists of 3 people: myself, a guy who we shall call Husband, and a girl who we shall call Wife. Husband and Wife are married. Husband was the one who literally walked up to the back of the lecture hall to ask me if I wanted to be in his group with Wife.
I think it was because he recognized me from when I let him bum a cigarette.
Regardless, in this simple action of approaching me first, he labeled himself as one who takes initiative; a leader. I fully expected to be a follower, as I usually am in group projects, and he would pick the topic and delegate tasks to us.

I was wrong.

Husband and Wife have come up to where I am and Husband asks me what topic I'd like to do. I said I don't care, which of course means that I'd like to do it on the legalization of marijuana. He says we'll just think about it and come back next class and pick it then. Sounds good.
After that I swear they missed the next 2 weeks of class. I actually thought that they dropped.
Then one day, they're finally there. Husband, with Wife following, asks me if I've picked a topic. What? But he walked over to me. HE'S THE LEADER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE.

I tell them I've narrowed it down to Illegal Immigration and Legalization of Marijuana.
I literally flipped a coin to decide between the two. I really wanted the weed one, but immigration won fair and square (2 out of 3).

They actually attended class all week, so I told them we were doing immigration. Then Husband says "You know, I think we're just gonna let you take the lead on this."
Well fuck me. I'm the leader.
We still hadn't exchanged information, but went our separate ways.

This is where all the days run together. Below the Belt was up and that was really the only thing I cared about. So, somewhere in that 3 week period, me and Husband exchanged information (apparently he and Wife are joined at the hip or something) and I actually did type up a general outline. I sent it to Husband after sending far too long looking for his email.

And then I waited. For anything. A text. An email. Hell, it could have been a blank email as long as knew that he was alive. Then, out of the silence, I hear my phone. 3 days later Husband finally texted back explaining how crazy his work schedule is. I'm not sympathetic. I text him back. "That's okay, as long as you reply." Damn my good nature. We set up a time to meet after my classes on Monday.

We go to the library. I pull out my laptop and bring up everything I typed and some stuff that I found as sources. Then I realized that Husband had never even opened the email, as they had never seen the outline before. I then explain it to them, and pretty much tell them what to do.

LEADER.

I looked up the entire first half of Husband's information.

Wife is smarter, and was already looking up her information.

I told them to email their information so I could add to the Power Point (which I had already started), and we left.

We present on April 12th, which is, as of this post, today. And it's 1:00 AM, and I'm looking up my information. And waiting for an email or text or something from them. Will I get an email? Will they send a text confirming that we'll meet up before class tomorrow? I don't know.

All I know is that my part of the presentation will be good. It has to be. I'm so close to passing with a B.

All I know is that I hate working in groups.

closing night.

Office

I know it's been a while. And I was supposed to talk about opening night. Yet now closing night is upon us, and you have no clue as to my first show went.

Did it go okay? Was it horrible? Was I a nervous wreck? Did anybody even listen to me? Do I still want to be a stage manager?

It's been going surprising well. Though there was one weekend, the second week of the show, where all the tech (myself included) was all kinds of fucked up.
The show has gotten great reviews. Here's one: http://blogs.houstonpress.com/artattack/2012/03/below_the_belt_a_corporate_fan.php#more
I was nervous, but in that good pre-show way. I knew it would be fine, I just wanted to be sure it would actually be fine. That doesn't make any sense, but maybe you get it.
Everybody listens to me. I'm the fucking STAGE MANAGER.
And I will remain a stage manager until I feel that I can no longer do it. Which means until the end of time.

Bedroom

After this I'll be doing Lover's Quarrel at KVPAC. WHAT?!?!? Not CPH?!?

Yes. I need to expand a bit. Plus, my theatre teacher was cast and he seems like he'd be awesome to work with. The only difference is that I won't be an SM; I'll just be doing general tech stuff.

And also general tech stuff for an upcoming show at CPH.

And I'm now a "Technical Assistant" at CPH.  I'll be helping out the Houston Russian Ballet in May.
$25/hour bitches!

The floor. It glows too. 

And I spoke a person who seems important at CPH and who told me that she "directs a lot" and said that she "liked my resume" (resume? what? what resume? you mean my bio in the program?) and would like for me to be her SM for her show. NEXT YEAR. I have a fucking job lined up for NEXT FUCKING YEAR.

And now, here I am. In the booth overlooking weeks of time and effort. Just waiting for the last show to start. And knowing it will be great.

Tomorrow we strike everything except the paint on the floor (which I think should stay there until forever because it's fucking amazing) and then it will really be over. In about 3 hours, 6 weeks of work will be gone.


So, my first show was great. It was everything that I wanted out of my first SM experience.

Panoramic of the entire set

go.

Go. That's the magic word. It's the one word that nobody else is allowed to say during the run of the show.

It's my word.

I've finally started calling cues. Essentially, I tell the light and sound guys when to do the lights and sound. My first time was on Wednesday. I was terrified. But it went surprisingly well. I got pointers from Director and Lights, and I welcomed everything they had to say. Thursday went great. It also helps that I have two board ops who know what their doing because, truth be told, I don't have a fucking clue.

But I like to think that all this means that I'm on my way to something. Just something. I hadn't set foot in a theatre for so long, and this just feels...right. Solid. Even though theatre is everchanging, it all feels consistent. The inconsistency is consistent.

I think Director has been telling everybody about me. Not to sound arrogant, or like I talk I myself up all the time. If anything, when it comes to something I could possibly be good at, I generally sell myself short. Anyway, I've 2 offers to be an SM. One is for Director's wife, the other is for someone at CPH. Wife's play is 10 minutes farther away; gas is past $3.50. CPH is far enough to be honest. And I know CPH, but Wife's play, Extremities, seems so good. I don't even know what the other one is. Or maybe I shouldn't do either and should just find a paying job.

We'll see.

Standby Publish.....and.......GO.

what i really do.

I can't translate this to Latin. And I have to.

I think I've taken on the added role of Prop Master for the show, and I have to type love letters and company forms. And Director wants for the words to be in Latin. Because that's just how things are done. And I was running behind on my rehearsal reports.

But I did find this awesome font.

Other than that, the show is going fantastic. Thanks for asking.

Everybody is doing this thing, but there weren't any for Stage Managers, so I made one myself. I'm proud.

And that's the gist of it. 

School is.......going. Just going. I really just want to have a good GPA and transfer out of here. I think I've settled on UH. Settled. But they have an SM program. How can I ignore that? 

The UH SM degree plan says I have to take Tai Chi? The fuck is that about? 

Anyway. I think I'll just apply to UH, get in, and then audition a semester later. Because none of their shit makes any sense. 

This post really doesn't have a point. I just felt the need to update. 

tackle box.

I fully intended to follow the pattern established last week when I did two posts in the same day. One on school, the other on the show. But I have nothing to say about school.

I mean, what haven't you heard, or said yourself, that I would just repeat? Exactly.

But nobody does theatre. So I'll talk about that.

In my last post I mentioned my beloved tackle box. I think I have to further explain, but it's pretty weird to imagine a non-fisherman, 20 year old girl just carrying around a tackle box of seemingly random shit.

It's even weirder if you don't know what a tackle box is.

Inventory:
-12 binder clips
-2 pink erasers
-24 pack of pencils (2 already out, sharpened, and used)
-2 glue sticks
-a bag of red, yellow, and blue rubber bands
-5 highlighters (pink, yellow, green, blue, orange)
-tape
-utility knife
-scissors
-pencil sharpener
-an excessive amount of post-it notes

I should also have tissues, a first aid kit, a small sewing kit, spike tape, measuring tape, chalk, aspirin, safety pins, glow tape, paper clips, breath mints, pain killers, a flashlight, a stop watch and probably more pencil and post-it notes.

I always have this tackle box open and ready during rehearsal. I only ever reach into it twice: the first time to get out post-it notes and a pencil, the second time to get out the highlighter that I forgot to get out with the pencil and post-it notes. Other than that, it just sits there; most of the items haven't been touched. Except for by accident when I get out the post-it notes or sharpener.

I'm waiting for the day Director asks me to get something, and I don't have it.

below the belt.

This week marked my first 2 rehearsals with the director and cast of "Below the Belt". It's also the first time I've been a stage manager.

I've been an Assistant Stage Manager before, a few years back, but the work between the 2 positions is ridiculous.

I'm the youngest. And the only girl. It's all older men that I'm working with. It's kind of weird. I have yet to meet someone in their 20s at Country Playhouse. It's not a big issue, but it would be nice to talk about school or something with someone who's still in school.

But let me tell you about the job.

I do a lot of shit.

I take notes on blocking (the actor's movements). I take notes on props, set, costumes, as they're given. Eventually I'll be taking notes on lights and sound, and then taking down all the cues. And it a pretty light heavy show. I have to do rehearsal reports daily. This contains the day's planned schedule, what actually happened, the schedule for the next rehearsal, all the notes on props, set, costume, etc. Any miscellaneous information that doesn't fit under any of the aforementioned categories. And other stuff I'm sure, but I haven't gotten that far yet. I have never done any of this before. I'm just sort of pulling my limited past experience and winging it.

I don't even think that the director is aware that I'm pretty much totally inexperienced, but I guess that just means that I'm doing a good job.

I'm lost when it comes to blocking. It's written down in my script, but I need transfer it the floor plan. And I have no clue what to do. Any advice would be appreciated.

And I've never called cues before.

Country Playhouse is a 35-40 minute drive away from my house, down I-10. It's far. I got lost the first time I drove there. It wasn't a big deal, but still, I like to at least pretend to appear professional. Punctuality is apart of that.

Gas is an issue. It's an even bigger issue when you don't have any money.

I have this tackle box now. Yes, like the ones that fishermen have. It's full of supplies, and it still isn't enough.  I just got the important stuff, pencils, pens, sticky notes. Sticky notes are important. A utility knife. I'm not entirely sure why I got one, but when I looked at a list of stuff in a stage manager kit, that was there. And it was $5 at Wal-Mart.

So, now I'm really a stage manager. Everyone is very nice and happy and excited that I took the position. They way they make it seem is that they were worried that they weren't going to get an SM at all.

And then they got me.

new semester.

Textbooks. Why is it that professors always want students to have their textbook by the second week? Don't they understand that we're broke? Don't they understand that financial aid doesn't start coming through until February? And then it takes weeks afterwards before you actually get the check, or what have you, in the mail. So no, 6 teachers of mine, I don't have ANY textbooks. Simply because I'm jobless and depend on financial aid for such things.

My schedule, as seen in my previous post, is shit.

I have breaks that are too long, and one case where there isn't enough time to get form one class to the other. Plus I have 6 class. SIX. 17 hours. I'm still regretting this decision.

Especially now that I'm doing this stage manager gig.

My professors. I used ratemyprofessor.com, and naturally 4 out of 6 of my profs weren't on the site. So, really I just lucked out big time. They all seem fine. I have 3 legit blow off classes. It's harder to fail than it is to pass. Which also makes it incredibly easy to fail if you don't do any of the work, or show up to any of the classes.

Allow me to describe my class and professors.

SOCI 1301. Sociology. The study of people and how they interact with each other and society as a whole. This is the class I signed up for at the last minute. It's the source of my 17 hour regret. He taught at Penn State once. So there's that. He treats it like a college course. Which means not taking role. That's how he treats us like the adults that we are. It's interesting. I figure I'll be good at it because I've been watching people for years.

SPCH 1311. Speech. And that's it. It's kind of like SOCI in that we learn all these things about communication, verbal and non. She's totally clueless as to what the lingo for this generation is like. We told her what "swoll" meant. And we'll do speeches and stuff. I hate public speaking. The class is required for Ass. of Arts.

KINE 1111. Kinesiology. A fancy term for gym. We work out every class. She's real cool, laid back.

GOVT 2301. Government. It's the basics. And I'm taking this class during an election year. So it will simultaneously suck and be awesome. He's kind of quite and a bit awkward, but he actually makes it kind of interesting. And the class likes to talk a lot for an 8:30 am class. Maybe I'll vote.

DRAM 1310. Theatre. It's awesome. He's awesome. I'm kind of biased. All the test are online and not timed. Too easy.

COSC 1401. Computers. The class in 2.5 hours long. That's 1.5 hours too long. It's the basics. The first project was a 3 slide minimum powerpoint. Seriously? He super awkward. Definitely a computer guy. But he mentioned CatDog once, so he's alright.

That's it. Feel free to skip over that part.

first week.

My GOVT class has already been cancelled and it's only the first week of the semester. And that is why I am typing this up now as opposed to my usual time of 2 AM.

But I'm much more tired than I would be at 2 AM.

That's my schedule. Originally I didn't have that 8:00 AM MWF SOCI class. And then, sometime around midnight a couple of days before school started I thought, "I'm not an overachiever, but let me sign up for an extra 3 hours! I've never taken more than 15 hours, so I'll do 17! SO MOTIVATED." 

That motivation lasted until I set my alarm for 7:00 AM. 

And now my sleep schedule is out of whack, I'm exceptionally tired, and I regret all my life choices up until now. 

But I also have good news! 

In my quest to become the single greatest/most in demand stage manager in the universe, I had to take a look at local theatres. Local meaning 30 minutes away, past I-10. 

The Country Playhouse Theatre fit that description perfectly, and I sent an email saying I wanted to volunteer on any production to do pretty much whatever they wanted. Which is generally how it works at every theatre in the world. I expected to get an email back saying, "Yes, we could use your minimal amount of talent because we are always desperate for willing to accept people to run tech." Instead I got a phone call in the middle of class from the volunteer coordinator asking me if I wanted to be the Stage Manager for an upcoming black box production. For those who don't know, this: 

is a black box theatre. Small, black, sometimes a small raised area as a stage. 

I had to wait until after class to hear this message, so until then I thought it was my mom. 

When I finally heard the message, I walked to my car, got in, turned it on, and exploded. Then I realized that I had to run this by my parents. Luckily that realization happened after I drove home singing to every song and danced around the house scaring the dog. So I had my fun. 

And yes, I told my mom and dad, and they were like "Where, what times, school comes first." And I got all of that information and the Volunteer Coordinator even sent me a real schedule that they Director had done up. So I can still totally do it. 

So, by the time you read this post, I will be the Stage Manager for the 3-man black box production of "Below the Belt". 

No, I've never heard of it. That might not even be the show that I'm working on. 

Along with SM, I will probably be doing Light/Sound. So if you want to help out, give me a shout. No experience needed. Seriously. I could have been a hobo off the street and still gotten this gig. They had no idea that I have barely any prior experience. I merely stated that I was interested in Set construction. 

And they all say it's hard to get into the theatre biz. pissssshhhh. Whatever. 

school shopping. and a lazy river.

I am listening to Skrillex's new ep. And I fucking love it. 

It's an unreasonable hour to be typing this post.

Again, this is entirely besides the point of the original topic. But I have to let you know, and also insist that you listen to Bangarang. 

I am in my final full semester at lonestar, so, naturally, I'm obsessing over the only two schools that interest me. actually, only one school interests me, the other just happens a conveniently located good university. 

University of Houston. Boom. Right there. Down the street compared to some other schools. Quite a good football team this season (these things are important). Tier One. Not too sure what tier one is, but it sounds pretty damn impressive. "Yeah, I go to a tier one school. No big deal." It just seems like a no brainer to attend. But I don't think I would really like it all that much. Especially being so close to home. I would HAVE to move out. Which also means having to put aside money for a car and the apartment. Which basically means I would probably never move out and hate my life. 

Texas Tech. Pretty far. 9 hour drive kind of far. That's farther than OSU by one whole hour. In my math, that's something like 100 miles.* The campus is something that I know I will love just from looking at pictures. I have a thing for small town schools. It just seems so college-y. The kind of place I always see myself going. Big XII school last time I checked. I don't have to audition for the theatre program, which is perfect because I don't have anything to show for one. And, based on info from the school's website, there is a lazy river at the Rec Center. A fucking lazy river. 

Like at a water park, except on a college campus. It's really a major selling point for me. Even if I'm too self conscience to wear a swim suit in front of my peers.

 

One thing that both schools have in common, other than both being in Texas, is that I would be automatically accepted. At UH because I would have an Ass. of Arts, and at Texas Tech because I would have more than 24 credit hours with a 2.25 GPA or higher. 

Pretty sweet deal for me either way. I really don't even have to try to get in. I sort of just have to choose. Though none of this debate has taken the cost of attendance into account. 

I'd just rather ignore the debt that will be graduating with me. 

*No math used