Three Sisters-esque

We're leaving for Moscow!

I'm aching to get out out out. I want to enter a different world.
I need perspective. I need to breath. I need to forget.

Everything will be different when I come back, and magically bearable. And I will feel refreshed and content. And life will go on.

I've done it before, I can do it again.

I'm going to stand in Red Square among the masses and drink champagne and cheer as fireworks bring in the new year. I'll watch the past explode shimmering, into darkness. And when the smoke clears, everything will be clearer.

thank god thank god thank god!



(I'll take lots of pictures, don't worry)

à bout

I'm glad the semester is ending. I mean I'm not glad I have finals on tuesday - jesus - but I just feel completely drained. All my energy either went into healing from my accident or Life is a Dream which was a huge dissapointment.

I'm dreading going home. The holidays are always an explosive time at my house. Last Christmas my mom threw my dad out and so he spent all day at the movie theater and then he told me about how humiliated and alone he felt sitting there in the dark. Seriously. God, I felt like I was in some horrible teen movie starring Mandy Moore. I wish I had something solid, something. But I don't think I do.

Even a little escape. Where I could go and just not worry, just let the rest dissolve away. I think I would be stronger if I had that. It's hard for me to be happy when I don't feel safe. I mean god, that's natural isn't it?

I leave for Russia on the 27th. I can't wait. I know I will feel breathless and free. And even if it only lasts for two weeks, I know I'll feel more alive there than I have felt in a really long time.

I have my drawing final on tuesday and an essay exam for theater history. I fly home on wednesday.

I don't know what happens after that. I don't know what I want. I just want it to be easier. I want to feel lighter.

Venting Ahead:

Acting is so damn hard. I can't tell you the number of times I'm crafted scenarios in my head, ways to escape this whole fucking world and start a new life without any of the frustration and sacrifice and powerlessness of this business.

Its incredible how just...elastic people expect you to be. And how you need to be. And at the same time impregnable. You have to be incredibly INCREDIBLY vulnerable and yet never let subjective judgements of your most precious personal self even touch you. You have to let them roll off your back. Sometimes I wonder if I would get more by giving less. If that would make it any easier.

I just can't do it right now. I'm so discouraged. I feel like I've grown so much and I'm being punished for it. It's just making me angry and hurt, and coupled with the rejection I'm feeling in my personal life, it's too much right now.

I want to do this so badly, so so badly. I haven't played a part I loved in a play I loved in a REALLY LONG TIME. I feel completely castrated artistically and its fucking making me really depressed!

This Breaks My Cardinal Rule: See If You Can Guess

I think I maybe

possibly

honestly

think

my third favorite thing in the world, the #3 best feeling imagineable

(1. sex
2. playing the shit out of a great scene in a great play)


is smoking a bowl and watching Gray's Anatomy.



I know what you're thinking.

But you know what? Deep down in places I try not to share whenever possible, I am really just a sweet girl and that stuff gets to me. Deep down beneath the necessary objectivity of reality, I subjectively believe, contrary to all indications in real life, that you can fall in love with someone and stay in love with them, and that they can stay in love with you. I know, its irrational. But so is life sometimes.

It really is, I didn't always believe that but now I do. Sometimes shit can really happen to you for no reason, and it is not a consequence of your own actions.

That car accident taught me so much. Its incredible. I didn't realize how much until long afterwards but seriously, it is unbelievable.

I'm going to bed.

No Excuses!

So I finally got my copy of Sallinger and now I can start my thesis!

And by that I mean now I have no excuse not to start my thesis!

good or bad? Too soon to tell.

I started translating the forward. This is what I'm in for (this will only be interesting for those who speak any french, sorry!)

<Impressions d'acteurs>> : qu'est-ce qu'une lecture et qu'en reste-t-il lorsqu'on s'est détaché du souvenir de l'oeuvre? Quel est le souvenir final? Est-ce un personnage, un rapport, une absence de rapports, le tableau d'un élément vital, ou même rien de tout cela, quelque chose de beaucoup plus essentiel, qui a touché au plus profond le comédien, et qu'il veut, par ce spectacle, transmettre?
Totale liberté de l'acteur, et soumission totale à ce qui fait la force et l'existence d'une oeuvre qu'on a aimée, Lecture Américaine est une première étape à la fois dans l'approche de l'oeuvre de Salinger, dans la définition de ce qu'est une impression de lecture et, enfin, comme il s'agit de comédiens, dans l'investigation du pouvoir et des limites du théâtre pour les dire.>>

Not too tough linguistically but a bitch and a half to make clear on a purely literary standpoint.

126 pages...

You heard it here first:

Auditions are the most absurd enigma.

Its like stepping into a tornado. You walk in the room, all kinds of stuff happens that you didn't expect, both good and bad, REALLY QUICKLY and then you walk out. You feel like you've suffered severe head trauma because you can't put together a goddamn coherent sentence about what happened in there. Possibly you were abducted by aliens.

the only time you do seem to know what happened is when it went horribly horrible wrong.

So I suppose this is the best case scenario.

But auditions....what the fuck. How that is supposed to gage someone's talent and potential is beyond me.

that is all.