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