Filing

I'll put these in the folder marked, 'I know I shouldn't, but I will!"

I also love how in the last one, I'm clearly trying to communicate something. Men are so obsessed with themselves. If he wasn't so gorgeous and adorable I would be annoyed. Sigh. Isn't he cute?

So much stresssss

I NEVER get a break, I swear to you.

I hate tuesdays.

Plus I'm still in a fog from the trip (jet lag?) I went to sleep at like 9 last night because I wasnt feeling well and now I'm up because I have so much work to do.
fuuuuck. I'm fucked. fuck fuck fuck.

Ok, I have to:

research Jen Genet
Go over my monologue
try and do SOMETHING for portfolio review

and tomorrow is gonna suck even worse, because I have to go to the museum AND write that 7 page paper.

And did I mention I have a thesis due in four weeks?

yeahhhhhhhhhhh

shortie

I want to talk about my trip but I've been stripped of the capacity.

Many things in my life are becoming unbearable, I don't know what I am going to do. I know I need to change them, but the prospect is so horrifying that I resist again and again.

Maybe part of me fears that if I don't have her I will have no one.

And the rest of me thinks she is right, and I am cruel and selfish.

What happens to the human soul when you are so acutely entrenched in your own entrapment that freedom no longer seems enticing enough. What it will rip from you is too dear, and you fear you would not survive the exposure.

Here it is again: the consoling lie. What is truth and what is not, is there anyone who can tell me?

Départ

I'm leaving in a few minutes.

I have a meeting with Julie first, my acting professor to talk about my work in class. I have NO clue what she'll say. Probably the same old thing about how I need to work on my connection to the text and embody it blah blah. She's great though, so nice and knowledgable.

Then I leave directe for the airport! I'm just gonna take the train I think, it's cheaper. Whatevs, I'm poor!

la la la France la!

au revoir mes amis! Ta Linotte reviens!

Woooooo!! *lifts shirt*

SPRING BREAK 2007! Yeahhh!

I am so excited, I'm about to pee my pants every time I think about it. I got an email from Clément today! He's freaking out, I'm freaking out, I'm going to stop by my acting atelier and suprise everyone. Its gonna be hilarious.

The weather may be shitty, but that's alright. I don't even care.

France, friends, food, and sex. What could be better?

nothing i tell you!!


I should have gone to the museum exhibit for my history course this afternoon but I forgot about the faculty meeting. Which was great actually, we've got a lot of interesting prospects on the horizon. Naomi Wallace and a workshop for the Public, Matthew's crazy musical called Laughing Pictures, and still of course Cloud 9 possibilities. Plus another Naomi Wallace play. Or Kate Crackernuts by Sheila Cunningham. Awesome.

Anyhow, because I didn't go to the museum today I have to go tomorrow. But I also need to get my haircut. And work out. And did I mentioned I have an exam at 4pm? I'm gonna have to go to Theatre History, book it to the museum, get a haircut, and high-tail it to the exam, hoping I studied enough the night before. I hope this isn't the world's worst plan.
I got an 89 on the last exam, I almost blew an ovary. Talk about petty deductions. One point? Really? I feel like history teachers expect a lot out of me because contribute a lot in class discussions and so they hold me to a different standard on exams. No fair man, I'm ADD, I have serious limitations! I just hate to dissapoint this professor, I really like him a lot.
Man, I have got to make it to that museum tomorrow. Fuuuuuck. Well if I get out of class at 11:30 I should be good and done by 3pm, I mean that is way more than plenty of time. Ok. I think I'll have some time to study, this is good.

After that I can just pack for my trip! Eeeeee so excited!

Moonstruck

Best Movie Everrrrr



I AIN'T NO FREAKIN MONUMENT TO JUSTICE!
I LOST MY HAND! I LOST MY BRIDE! JOHNNY'S GOT HIS HAND! JOHNNY'S GOT HIS BRIDE!
YOU WANT ME TO TAKE MY HEARTBREAK PUT IT AWAY AND FORGET?!?!

CHRISSY! OVER BY THE THE WALL: BRING ME THE BIG KNIFE!!
NO RONNIE!
BRING ME THE BIG KNIFE! I'M GONNA CUT MY THROAT!
I TELL YOU I WON'T DO IT!


SON OF A BITCH!!

Fly In Ointment

I have yet to translate the way I feel about human beings as an actor, into how I feel about human being as...well a human. I still feel like I'm holding out for that ideal, when part of me thinks that its unreasonable to even expect that to exist. Should I go ahead and jump on the 'good enough for now' wagon and ruin such a great friendship? Yes no maybe so...

Rien from Hervé. What that may or may not mean is a complete mystery. I don't understand this man, which he should hardly find suprising since he doesn't communicate with me. Which I suppose I shouldn't find suprising either, frank communication is not a very french concept. Its very american of me to want to pin everything down and define in, but CAN YOU BLAME ME? Heartbreak can make a person very pragmatic.

I would like to see him. Very much so. But its his decision. He knows whatever he decides I will submit to. No WONDER he likes me, jesus, what man could turn that down?

I made my reservation for my trip to Normandy! I'm staying in Bayeux for two nights and taking a tour of the D-Day beaches. It will be a lovely history-filled dork-fest and I for one, am quite enthused. Plus I'm looking forward to the time alone and the countryside: a good prescription for a severe confusion. Very Emersonian, Anaïs would be proud.

I'm almost finished with the third volume of her early diaries, so I'll take the fourth one with me. And maybe one of her Erotica novels (DUH! Its france!)


So this weekend, I have to write two papers and print up about 60 pictures in 4 different sizes. And also study for my history midterm. And also figure out what to do with the first page of my portfolio (god only knows). And pick a scene for the second half of my acting class, which is going to be taught by a man named Tim Douglass. Hope he's good.


oh! I got a phone interview for the Faculty Associate position at Cherubs! Its tomorrow afternoon, I'm a little nervous. I figure as long as I stay calm and avoid saying "um" and "uh" too much, it should go alright. I might I'm not Ghandi, I don't have to be that profound.

Twisted

I'm so confused. I'm so confused what's right for me.
Or maybe I know but I just don't want to face it. Some part of me is holding out.
Its that fucking hope thing again.
Kelsey said I reminded her of a little girl holding her eyes shut.
Such a good image for what is happening in all facets of my life right now.

I can't believe its only wednesday. Thank GOD I have wednesdays off. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't. I'm always so exhausted by monday and tuesday that if I didn't have the next day off, I swear I would drop dead in the street. Especially after tuesdays, tuesdays are rough. Michelle hated everything I brought in today, it was awful. I'm not sure I actually like design, I just liked it when it was something I was good at. Because I'm that shallow. Fabulous.


So many relationships confuse me, I don't really know why I end up drawn to the people that I find myself around. Some of them, actually several, are people that others can't even stand. Maybe its being so devoted to my mom who is so abrasive that I've learned to look past that in people, but I wonder if that's actually made me not realize when I'm shouldering more than my load. I hate having to defend people I care about, especially to myself. Why should I surround myself with people I'm not sure are good for me? Its a very helpless feeling not being able to control or trust your own feelings. If I feel myself gravitate towards someone, I may need to resist that very impulse. My self-destructive behavior is instinctual. I feel like I'm programmed to explode.


Also a question: when you love someone, shouldn't there be a sort of pride in that love? Shouldn't you want to shout it from the rooftops, shouldn't you want the world to know? Shouldn't you at least be able to face it yourself?

I feel very small right now, I feel as if I might be swallowed up and dissappear.

I think I take too much of what life hands me. Maybe I should start grabbing for things. I'm not sure I know entirely how to do that. Or what is worthwhile for that matter. I wish I had good role models in my life! People to show me what things are positive and what are not.

theatre certainly isn't any helped, god knows how fucked up we all are. we spend most of our free-time self medicating. Which may I say has its perks.

I hate thinking that he's thinking about her.
I hate imagining the scenarious in my head that I know he's imagining that aren't with me. I hate reading his words and reading about someone else. I hate that he's anguished and its not by me. I hate that he yearns and its not for me. I hate that she has caught him in a way I never will and I hate how that makes me feel. Why is that woman never me?

Somewhere I always go wrong and someone always sneaks into the very place that my whole body craves, every inch of my skin pulsing to get inside of him but somehow the route is always blocked.

une philosophe (I'm stoned)

Hope is the fountain of youth.

from it all life springs, and its stream grows weaker and weaker with every passing year until it finally runs out as the last breath slips through our lips.

That's why children believe the impossible.

Its why adults are afraid of everything.

Hope Hope Hope its such a different word than espoir.
Hope is hopeful, simple, pops with breath, forces your mouth into a little kiss.

Hope.

I'm sorry I just can't stop saying it. Hope hope hope.

Le Pêcheur

Il y a un homme au sud
Un pêcheur
Qu’il a peur d’accrocher
Une bonne prise

Il joue avec des allumettes,
Les jetant par terre,
Et il regarde, étonné,
Les flâmes qui surgissent tout à coup
de la crasse, de la boue

il dit qu’il va mourir seul,
un vieux grognon,
il observe son destin
avec une révérence résigné,
comme s’il n’était pas son choix

je le regarde, son visage vers l’horizon
et je trace les lignes qui tombent de ses yeux


je suis à bout d’arguments
si je peux prendre ce visage, ce doux visage,
dans mes mains
je pourrais dire
comment je l’aime

Mais je ne peux pas

il est trop concentré
de se distancer,
de quoi ou qui,
j’en sais rien.
Et moi
Je suis paralysée,
je n’arrive pas à avancer

je regarde mon pêcheur
mon homme du sud
j’adopte sa révérence résignée
et nous deux
nous regardons les feux
dans la distance

Oh My God I Forgot How Great Weekends Are

Have I never lived a weekend before? This seems completely novel and new.

I have been so DAMNED relaxed and yet PRODUCTIVE this weekend! Ok, well yesterday I did nothing, but then in the evening I roasted a chicken! A whole chicken! And then Tim and I watched À Bout De Souffle which I think was the best movie I've seen in a long time. I was really stoned to be honest, but I still think it was really good.

And today I finished the final incarnations of my resumes, finished my Cherubs application, emailed my professors for recommendations, and did my business card. Oh and wrote a cover letter, which i think is really good.

And I had pancakes and scrambled eggs for breakfast and watched a show on the Discovery Channel about Killer Bees. And now Morgan and I might go out to Queens to see Ian and Vince.

I swear there has never been a weekend before in my life.

Weird.


Also I made a realization (the little philosopher):

We are all cowards. Of loneliness, of death, of growing old, of love. We are all cowards. To each his phobia.

Nous sommes tous des lâches, tous lâches. De la solitude, de la mort, d'agir, de l'amour. Nous sommes tous des lâches. Tous phobiques.


Tu vois ta petite Linotte? Elle est très forte, elle pense beaucoup. Tu devrais être fier d'elle, hein?

ciao bises!

Forgive me!

Sorry I haven't posted in a long time!

So. Arrows is going very very well, I think. Morgan and I sort of tweaked something in the character which made it make so much more SENSE. And also be slightly less Stepford Wife. I guess that's where my inane idealism comes sneaking out - I have this dire urge to play people as I wish they were, instead of how they are. Which ironically, makes them much less real, and therefore less sympathetic.

Its been a good experience. Having Morgan as a director is really great actually, our friendship doesn't seem to get in the way of it, it just makes it more enjoyable. I guess it allows it to be very personal. Plus she knows all my bad habits and the way I work, so she is really good at encouraging me when I need it and then stepping it up at the right time in the right way. Its pretty great actually.

So yeah. I just wish I didn't have a HUGE exam on monday as well as the show opening. And a huge chunk of my portfolio due on tuesday. Gah! School! Kill me.

I'm working on my resumes and my applications for this summer, mainly for Cherubs. If I don't get it...I guess I'll go home and work and be miserable. Guh. You know what, I better figure out a back-up plan. Something with at least a small stipend. GOD I wish I had some money saved up. Money is so hard right now especially, god. My parents payed for my birth control today though, so you win and you lose.

I'M SO STINKIN EXCITED FOR PARIS!!!! I got an email back from Akilles who was really sweet and offered me a place to stay for a week. Which I TOTALLY did not expect him to do. Still haven't heard from my host family though :( I'm hoping I will soon. I should probably write one of my host brothers too, just in case Martine doesn't get the message somehow.
So now maybe I'll have sex while I'm there? Not sure if that's what staying with Akilles means...hmmmmm....very mysterious. I certainly wouldn't be opposed to it. I am single now I guess.

I'm gonna do so much fun stuff! Go to the museums I missed, go to all my favorite places, see a few friends, maybe go to the Opera or Ballet, and walk around EVERYWHERE. And sit in cafés and read all afternoon. And shopping!!! Although I can't buy anything...sigh. But still! Hopefully Martine and I will go out to Versailles too! And then I'll go up to Normandy to see the D-Day sights. Its gonna be so great, I'm really stoked. I'm already having dreams about it. La la la!

Alright, I'm gonna go read Anaïs. I should be studying for my History exam buuuuuut I don't wanna. Fuck. Maybe I should. Fuck man! I hate school.

I'm feeling very Romantic...

Reading Anaïs has made me long for the ideal. Perhaps it is foolish and naive to do so, but I do enjoy thinking that somewhere that man exists out there.
He's probably making passionate love to his boyfriend right now.

Sigh.


Let me not to the marriage of true minds
admit impediments; love is not love
that alters when it alteration finds,
or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height is taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.



Too much to ask?

Friday!

fridays are amazing. And I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk.

I really need someone, at least what I had in Paris with Akilles. Someone to run away to. Someone who I can go to when I'm ready to get away from everything else. Someone whose entire world is different from mine, who represents a part of life that is not anything like mine. Some strange paradise.

Maybe a handsome young executive. Or a 9-5 mechanic. or a musician. Or a clerk. Or anything. Anything foreign and new and exciting and full of energy ready to channel into me. And I mean INTO ME, so deep into me that I forget about everything around me and we fall deep into a universe of touch and sound, where the earth, even manhattan has melted away and all that's left is his warm skin against mine and his breath pouring into my soul.
Yes! Please, bring me something new!!

"I was a free man in paris
I felt unfettered and alive
there was nobody callin me up for favors
and no one's future to decide
you know I'd go back there tomorrow
but for the work I've taken on
Stokin' the star-makers' machinery
behind the popular song..."

Nearing February...

the dreaded month of february approaches! AHHHHH!!!!

I started a new show, we go up on the 12th. A new children's play by Lucas Leyva. I play an invalidating mother whose son turns into a cloud. Mother issues - just what I need more of. Morgan is directing it, which is great, I think it will be good.

I'm starting to realize a few of my friendships are unhealthy. I'm trying to extract myself from them, but my two best friends have boyfriends and I don't so, I spend a lot of time reading. Which actually, in the long run, is probably better for me anyway.

I wish Ian lived closer, I miss him. I went to his theatre company's Gala last weekend. I was WASTED but was wearing my pretty new dress, so in the end, I think it was alright. I was DRUNK, not puking drunk but preeeeeeetty fucked up. And then I got stoned and ended up in my kitchen at 3am frying up a chicken breast, which I then did not eat, but found in the fridge the next day. Apparently in the end I went with yogurt instead. Brilliant.

I have my first RA interview this weekend, the first in a series of two or three before hopefully they accept me. Fingers crossed!

I'm trying to find a therapist. How does one do that? I looked online but I feel like really good therapists don't advertise online. Isn't that kind of sketchy? To find a therapist online? I have no idea. And why is every therapist a jewish woman in her 40's? Not that I have anything against jewish women or 40 year old women, but I'm wondering if I shouldn't find someone a little younger? Or is more experience better? Plus, my last therapist just sat there and listened to me talk for an hour. I don't want to go to therapy to vent, I want to make sure the cognitive schema I'm creating are going to lead to healthy thoughts and reactions. Bah!

Also, french music is amazing.

nap time!

Back To School

to prove to daddy that I'm not a fool...

Billy Madison, anyone?


The night before I left I had a panic attack and convinced myself that my plane was going to crash. I almost told my mom so she could help calm me down, but I knew deep down somewhere that I was being completely irrational and I was too embaressed to tell her. God I'm insane. These are the reasons I'll spend the rest of my life alone.

Being back is strange, it feels different than it has every other time I came back. Even after France. I feel like a strange foreign thing, une bête curieuse, and I imagine everyone looking at me like I don't belong.

Already had my acting class, which should be interesting. I hope I'm put with a scene partner that isn't awful and unmotivated *cough*martin*cough*. We're doing scenes from, of all things, ENDGAME. Which of course I've already sat through half a million times. And we're working on it for half the semester.

I turned in my application for RA today, GOD let's hope it works out siiiince I can't really afford to live in the city for another year...

Hervé met someone else. Maybe I should to. i don't know

I think I'll just read Anaïs Nin and dream. At least there I won't be dissapointed.

ciao mes petites puces,

linotte

Hard Truth

God today was awful. Every time I have a "talk" with anyone in my family I end up crying my eyes out, it goes nowhere, and I end up feeling worse after.
Which is exactly what's going to happen tomorrow when I see my sister.
I'm just so tired of this whole mess. Its just not fair, not fair for people to treat each other this way.

Which brings me to today, which left me ramming my head into the wall of what I consider life's hardest truth: you have to learn to live with the world the way it is, not the way you wish it was.

This has always been a difficult lesson for me. Maybe because I lived too much in my imagination as a child. Maybe I read too many books. Maybe I would afterall have been better off playing videogames where people shoot eachother over gold and stab eachother in the back to win. Maybe we protect our children too much from the hardness of life.

I suppose, maybe until today, I believed that the world could be different. Or at least that I could make MY world different, surround myself with people and situations that are fair.

But reality is unavoidable, profound dissapointments are inevitable. We are all trapped and there is no way out, not money or fame or good behavior even or anything.

It brings me back to the conversation Hervé and Ian and I had after Thanksgiving dinner where I clung to my dear dear belief that springs from some deeply deluded part of my soul, that the world is cruel and unfair because we let it be. That it doesn't have to be that way, and that a person can still exist and survive without having to accept the world this way.

But I think I am now beginning to see that you can't survive that way. In order to glean any tiny happiness from this mess you have to deal in world that is unacceptably cruel and unjust. You have to accept it and move on with your life.

c'est la grande tristesse de la vie. Sadder than anything maybe. That you cannot make the world better by living a good life, and you cannot make yourself happy by pursuing happiness.

I guess you just have to feel lucky to be alive, and take what the world hands you and be as satisfied as you can.



No wonder the whole world is depressed.

Mlle. Linotte Speaks

I miss Paris!

I miss the café culture. I miss going somewhere in an amazing neighborhood and sitting at a table and reading and drinking espresso for HOURS.

sigh.

You See!!!!

I told you I was a scatterbrain!

I forgot to say:
It snowed! The entire world looked like a beautiful sparkling heaven this morning. Every tree's tiny branch was covered in crystal. It was perfection.

also, every day I get two emails, one from the new york times and one from bluefly and none whatsoever from hervé. and I have no idea what i expected or why this suprising me but it does. To be truthfull I miss him terribly.

ok that's all, I think. I'm sure I am forgotten other things. I am really terrible.

bisous!

ton Linotte

Le Petit Linotte

Sorry I haven't been posting...I know I'm terribly naughty. But I've been completely absorbed in the ENTIRE diaries of Anais Nin which my mom got me for Christmas. I excitedly devoured the first volume, which covers her entire adolescence pretty much. It was charming, although that fevered compulsion poetry of hers that I love I'm sure doesn't begin until much later.

The title of the first volume is 'Linotte' which was one of her favorite nicknames for herself. Its a little bird, actually, but it means a little scatterbrain. I think I'm going to adopt it too, hehe.


Nothing at home (and by home, I mean serious childhood home home) has progressed but nothing I suppose has increasingly deteriorated since New Years. My father insists on pretending as if nothing happened, and neither my mother nor I can force him to deal with his delusions. I just hope they don't explode again as soon as I'm gone. He's gone back to work, starting his new job, and I hope perhaps this helps him channel some of whatever he is fueled with. God only knows. I just hope he would go back to therapy, although my mother and I have both accepted by now he won't ever change because he doesn't want to.

My mom went to see a lawyer who she liked, but they both decided to wait...that this wasn't the time, etc. It just pains me waiting and waiting and watching the time tick by and torment her. She deserves happiness, sublime happiness more than anyone I know in the world and I just want her to have it!
We have been spending lots of quality time together, and I indulge her probably more than I should. But already when we're together I sense that each second will perhaps soon be only a memory and I remind myself to cherish every tiny thing she does and says because they will one day be my only comforts in a sea of despair. May that day be far far away. I love my mother so much, I complain terribly about her, I am really a bad sort, but really she is an angel.

My dad is just being his self. I promise him we would go eat indian food this weekend. I don't even know what I'm going to do with him. What is going on in his brain.

I haven't seen my sister. I need to stop putting it off, if only because I have a shitload of gifts to give her. Not only from me but apparently the extended family now assumes that I am her Santa Claus and sends her gifts to me to deliver. Christ.
I know its silly but I still hold out hope that she and my mom will one day reunite. It is really my dearest wish, but it may be impossible. That pains me a great deal.

Anyhow, I come back to New York on monday and classes start tuesday morning. No breaks there. I can hardly remember what I even registered for. I do remember however that I've got to get into one of those History night classes. Fucking hell.

I miss Meg and Sammy and Morgan and my silly boys.


Alors! That's all and little miss is tired!



avec tous mes plus beaux souhaits,
ton petit linotte

Ah the New Year...

On this, now the second day of 2007, I'm reminded of a quote from a very deranged-yet-brilliant man.

"They say that time changes things, but really you have to change them yourself"

Andy Warhol.

Which is lovely and empowering and inspiring and all that crap. But then I'm reminded of the giant emotional sink-hole that is the one thing (although really its a giant snowball of a million things, but we'll just sum it up into one thing) that I can do absolutely nothing about. Really. I can't do anything, except maybe completely crush what's left of the parties involved, and that's a negative change, we don't like those. Those are bad. Imminent, regardless of my ardent and exhausting efforts, but bad.


Here's my new year's revelation:


Family: the new f-word

I hate titling these things

I feel like I should reflect on 2006, but I wouldn't even know where to start.
I look back at this year, full of so many adventures, I couldn't possibly begin to speak about how these last 12 months have changed me. I embarked on the new year with an incredible journey and a million experiences that I look back on with wonder, as if they happened in a dream. And yet somehow, I feel again those little buds of excitement in the pit of my stomach thinking about each experience again, as I did the first time it happened.
Ordering crêpes on the Seine outside Kelsey's after a night of dancing.
Walking to my classes through the marbled halls whose arching ceilings once towered over some of the greatest minds the world has ever seen.
Walking through the latin quarter on a cool crisp morning, listening to my iPod and drinking in the amazing world stretched before me.
Crying quietly as I walked through the Lux Gardens, looking up at the stone statues of ancient french princesses.
Laughing and chatting with Martine and my host brothers and sisters over dinner at night.
Spending an afternoon in my favorite café, reading and writing for hours. Crossing the street to the little cinema that shows old black & white movies.
Meeting up with my american friends for a few drinks at Odéon.
Walking hand in hand, kissing in cafés, having american tourists whisper to each other, "look at that cute french couple" hehehe
My last night in Paris, Kelsey and Florian, riding through the streets of a city I love with all my heart and soul, lifting my arms up and letting my fingers float through the strange delicate perfumed air.
Crying in the arms of Juliette, Adrienne, Hélisenne, Clément on my last few days before our show. Saying goodbye to them was so bittersweet.

Qu'est-ce que vous m'avez changé mes Parisiens, et qu'est-ce que je dois une fière chandelle à Paris, pour ses bras ouverts, sa magique infectieuse pour que je vais toujours revenir et saisir encore et encore...

Oh la France...I'm going back in march, but I'm so afraid. Afraid it will be so different, afraid I will feel out of place, afraid I will no longer feel embraced. This time I will be a tourist, really a tourist, nothing more. I just want to rewind my life back to those blissfull months, a sort of suspended dream that enchanted me completely.



In other news, I've started thinking seriously about my thesis. I'm gonna need a chalkboard onstage, I hope that's possible. And some chalk.

It's a Morris Holiday

my mom and I managed to pull the decorations together at saaaaaay 3am christmas morning.

nice.

turns out my dad isn't spending christmas with my sister and daemon, as I had hoped. My mom and I don't know where he's going. Maybe he'll sleep all day long, like he did today.

My mom and I opened a bottle of wine with dinner. She had two glasses. I had the rest of the bottle. And then I had to shut myself in the bathroom to have a little cry.

I just wish something was going right right now. I'm so tired of being dissapointed.

To top it all off, I don't think my thesis is going to work. And I still haven't turned in a proposal and I still don't have an advisor.

And I'm still wavering between overcompensating and being totally fine about Hervé and being completely miserable and sad and swearing off men forever like I did sophomore year. Maybe I'll write another manifesto. God knows I need to feel something empowering.

Ironic to be plunged in this dilemma on Christmas, considering its supposed to be the birthday of the man who saved me from eternal damnation. Right now, I pretty much feel I'm headed in that exact direction.

And of course by eternal damnation I'm talking about living with my mother and drinking a bottle of wine by myself every night, watching bad romantic comedies on the Oxygen channel - for all eternity.

God, Christmas is depressing.

home sweet gnome...i mean home...

if you said that like a maxim model, it wouldn't rhyme.

SO, I'm home, sitting in my giant bed in my giant bedroom. I forgot how IKEA it was. I feel so scandinavian. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning and be in Oslo cuddled up with some mysterious yet tender Norwegian underwear model/chef who writes like Ibsen and makes love like a god. Is Ibsen even Norwegian? Just go with it. The magic of the season.

I had a bitter, depressing morning which came swiftly upon the heels of an awful night's sleep. I'm not going to go to Hervé's house when I go back to France for spring break because he has to work, which just for the record, I UNDERSTAND. But that does nothing at all to keep me from being really dissapointed. I want to see his adorable family. And his dog. And his house and his little village. Basically I just want to step right back into last summer and pretend nothing has ever changed. Which everything has.

Why does it always do that?

I was running through my romantic history in my head and I realized that every single relationship-type-encounter I've ever had (besides Gus, but he was CRAZY) has followed a very familiar pattern. Its always between me and someone who is not destined to be in the same place for more than at best, a few months. Or I'm leaving in a few months. Anyway, there's a big fat time-stamp on it to begin with. Things flare up and get very passionate very quickly and I start having these delusions of grandeur about the whole thing. Then the time comes and he pretends that it won't be awful and everything will be alright - and I believe it, fool that I am - and then he leaves and slowly (or not so slowly *cough*Erik Jennings*cough*) abandons me completely. Emails and phone calls get sparser and sparser, there's always a good excuse, but then eventually I get the picture and then they stop. And then its over.

over.

sometimes they pop back into my life. I'm hoping I can become friends with at least one, who I now talk to in a suprisingly not-awkward way. And Akilles and I are awkward but I'm hoping one day it will be not-awkward.

I just can't keep getting involved with men who either can't or don't let people into their lives. And by people, I mean me. I mean, I would rearrange everything to have someone I loved come visit, I mean I have, to the point that I jeapordized things in my life that I shouldn't have. I'm not advocating that. I'm just sure that no one I've ever been with would do that. I wouldn't expect them to of course, maybe because I know they wouldn't do it. Or maybe they wouldn't do it because they know I wouldn't expect them to. I just want to be up there on somebody's list of priorities. Which I've never been to any man ever in my life. Including my father, which is a whole other can of worms.

Anyway, I'm home. I'm hoping to do a lot of drinking with my high school buds who are home. That and making life a little more bearable for my parents. And eating for free.

and scrapbooking! Hopefully.

more later,
biz, Deb

its better that you don't know the rest

Mara says:
then you'd just be a stumpy blind woman dating a hot lesbian
Mara says:
and everyone would be like "WTF?"

I hate fox news but...

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,236483,00.html

there are no words...

Why are all the good ones jaded?

I'm so tired of hearing these absurd generalities.
You can tell me 16 times that Love is a trap
don't you think I know?
Don't you think I know better than anyone?
Much better than you?
You've loved one person in your entire life
and she left you
and GOD am I sorry about that, if I could go back in time and convince her to stay I would, I really would, just to see you not crawling through life jaded like you do now, trusting no one, letting no one in.

All I have is what I can give you
which is everything
why isn't that enough?

All I want is to go to bed at night knowing that someday I'll see you again
Three times, Twice a year, once a year.
I don't care.
Just knowing that someday I will find my way back into your arms, back in front of that smile, back next to that man...I don't think anything else matters.

I'm not asking for anything.
I'm just asking you not to push me away.

Finalitudiness

Finished:
Draping final
Acting Final
Civil War Exam
Theatre History final paper

To do:
Civil War research paper

Mainstage was posted today. Nothing.
Its funny, every time I get this knot in my stomach, every time I walk down that deserted hallway I feel that tingling down there (no not down THERE) but I search and search that list for my name and its never there.
I had a long talk with Tina about how I feel as an actor. How I feel 40 years old and I can't stop crying. She made me feel like I'm not wasting my time. I've been feeling incredibly lost lately.
I've also been filled with intense longings for Seattle, although after tonights conversation with my mother, via skype, because my phone died, I'm not so sure being close would be a great thing. GOD. My dad decided to throw a tantrum and now he wants my mom and I out of the house on christmas. My mom doesn't want to put the tree up where he can enjoy it, so she's going to hide it away in her room. Same old bullshit.
Merry Christmas.

What I am to you, is not real.
You give me mountains when I ask for the sea.

I miss nature. I hate these buildings and streets and people, cold faceless people everywhere. Everything costs 100 dollars that I don't have. The only person who believes in me is my mother. God that's depressing.

I've been feeling not supported, seriously not supported here lately. I know everyone is very busy, but I feel myself drifting farther and farther away from everyone. I can't connect, no one seems to want to, besides to laugh at jokes. I'm tired of jokes. I feel like a joke. Can't anyone see me? Have I turned invisible?

No, the problem isn't that. That's not fair. I don't know what it is. I don't even want to talk about it. I'm so tired of talking. Talking talking talking gets me no where. I walk around with headphones on so I don't have to talk. Maybe I like being withdrawn.

I have to write a proposal for my thesis, on top of it all. Fuuuuuuuuuck.

I just want to ride away to some mysterious cloudy island in a canoe like an indian princess rowing to her grave, her face resigned facing towards the horizon. I want to be brave.

i hate online quizzes, but this one's good

creepily true...

Bodybusy

So the Busybody ended on a triumphant note. So much enthusiasm was buzzing around the stage that it propelled one of the rapiers right into the first row of the audience. Wooops. The look on the director's face, which I interpreted as frantic concern for the welfare of the audience was in fact petrifying fear of a lawsuit, she explained to me later.
Oh the Busybody. I think it was sort of a test. To see how much I love doing this when I don't get to play juicy meaty challenging and stimulating roles. Would I still really love this, even if I wasn't really fulfilled by it? Its an important question to face, since that's what will lay ahead once I'm out of school. Years and years of bit roles, where the best case scenario is a really kick-ass costume. Which reminds me, check out my tits in that top. Hello girls...
Bottom line is, I did have a good time, even though I was a little bored.

I've been feeling very out of place lately. Seattle is sounding better and better to me, I really think I'm gonna move back there for Graduate school. Well I mean unless I get into Julliard or NYU. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa

I just can't imagine staying here. Its dirty and people aren't friendly and its so huge its just too overwhelming. I don't have a neighborhood, I don't have a community. Once I'm out of Fordham and semblance of that is lost, and I would just hate that. I already feel far away enough from everything and everyone, I don't need that extra push.

December is here, finals are knocking hard and fast at the door. I have to build my draping project. Finish my last TWO theatre history papers. Write my paper for Civil War History. Take my civil war final. Audition for Pericles and Man = Man. Go Christmas shopping. And still sleep on top of it all, and do laundry, and cook meals. Life is way too complicated.
Probably doesn't help that I watched two Harry Potter movies on TV today, instead of doing anything remotely useful. I just can't help it. That Daniel Ratcliffe is gonna be a superstud. I've always been attracted to great potential.

Wouldn't it be...?

lovely.

it was a lovely week. we strolled the city, managing our way through the crowds, did a LOT of shopping for gifts, and ate out. it was so nice to be near him again, to laugh together, goof around...i wish this relationship wasn't a ticking time bomb.
we talked about it a lot, i cried, he didn't. it didn't seem to upset him very much, which I know shouldn't bother me. he's just very pragmatic, as I should be - as we're both learning to be. all my girlfriends tell me that they are happy to see me with him, even if its not going to be work out because its the first time they've seen me with someone who doesn't hurt me. but this will hurt too, one day, when I finally make a decision or he finally leaves me.
but for now...its just what it is. i won't see him soon at all, months and months away, and we won't talk enough. we'll grow apart again, and both be full of doubt and sadness. but when i'm with him, laying in his arms at night, breathing him in my nostrils, its an irresistable high that I'm completely addicted to.

but really, it was lovely.

Heyyyyy!!

its boyfriend day! its boyfriend day! its boyfriend day!!

boyfriend day boyfriend day boyfriend day!!

A Kiss for Kindness

This week has been full of its ups and downs (read: mood swings) but I can say that I have witnessed some extraordinary kindness, and it gives me heart to know that there are still people out there in this big bad world that recognise the difference between what is right and what is easy (ok so I stole that from Harry Potter, but that was a movie! This is reality!) and look out for people, even strangers. It almost makes me an optimist to see people trying to protect each other from pain. It kind of fills me with joy, like that creepy sun-baby from the telletubbies. Maybe I really would shine like that if not for the other type of people who are inflicting said pain. I guess that's life though, you get the good with the bad.

Had delicious pizza today, even though I'm supposed to be on a strict diet for the last 4 days, since Hervé comes on tuesday. Oh well, I only had two little pieces, that's not that bad.

Oh yeah, did I mention HERVÉ COMES ON TUESDAY. That is like ALMOST tomorrow. In six hours, that will be tomorrow. That's nuts! To combat my anxiety today I did what any red-blooded female would a gorgeous frenchman is flying across the atlantic to see her: I scrubbed down the bathroom. And took out all the trash and did a sinkload of dishes. Because that's how we foster obsessive compulsive behavior. I mean...oh fuck. I'm gonna end up like my mom, rearranging shoulder-high piles of tuperware on the kitchen floor at 4 in the morning. True story.

I'm reeeeeeaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllyyyyyyy excited. I'm already having trouble sleeping, its impossible! I keep imagining his beautiful face with his beautiful smile on it. And the sex. Have I mentioned the sex? Yeah, there's gonna be a lot of it. I have officially redubbed this weekend 'Sexgiving'. Who needs turkey?

I am going to make pies however, pumpkin and pecan with my mom's perfect recipe. Only I'm not buying a pumpkin, cooking it, and purée-ing it myself. That's insane, I'm not Martha fucking Stewart. I want to go out to Astoria and have dinner with Ian, we'll see what Hervé feels like doing. I don't want to push him into anything, I know he'll probably be really overwhelmed. And adorable. He's so cute. And french.

But before he comes I have to write a theatre history paper, do all my laundry and haul down to Trader Joe's to get some thanksgiving ingredients. And wine. Mmmmm being 21 is delicious.

Busybody went really well, my costume is wildly uncomfortable. But beautiful. And busty. Bam!



yeah I don't know. Emeril? I'm crazy.

The Judas Kiss

Thank God its no longer last week. And yet...couldn't time just not advance any furthur...?

I finally made a few chips in my very thick shell of writer's block. Very lame chips, but hey, its progress, right?

I also talked to Clément, my very best french friend in Paris. He's in the theatre troup that I was a part of and they are mounting a new show, "Nous, les Héros" or "We, the Heroes". He sent me a recording of the opening sequence, just hearing all their voices, ohh it made me so homesick for Paris. Especially since I've been feeling so detached and empty lately. I feel very far away, so its been so easy to reminisce (sp?) about gay old Paris. But of course the truth is I felt disengaged there as well, but there I had the excuse of being a foreigner and therefore a convenient excuse. Handy, right?
At least I felt alive. At least I cried and felt and loved and partied like a PERSON. I feel like I just dig my grave deeper every day now, I feel so muddled and frozen. Every thing I do I have to bargain with myself. Maybe I'm just crazy, but I feel so compromised. I don't know. That doesn't even make sense. The point is, talking to Clément was so nice. France picked up a few points today (it has been losing lots of points every day due to no word from Hervé - not his fault, I just blame the whole country).

Five hours of Tech rehearsal tonight and you know what I did? NOTHING. Didn't go onstage once, didn't even play the flute. It was BO-RING. I took a nap and finished The Judas Kiss by David Hare. Which was so not the most constructive thing for me to be reading. Great writing though. Lots of delicious Oscar Wilde witicisms, which are invented but very convincingly Wilde.
Also,
"In prison I had the chance to read the Christ story. Over and over. It seemed to me the greatest story I ever read. But it has one flaw. Christ is betrayed by Judas, who is almost a stranger. Judas is a man he doesn't know well. It would be artistically truer if he were betrayed by John. Because John is the man he loves most."
also,
"Ideally, I like to drink anise. My favorite anise is the second. I drink it not because it makes me sleep - nothing makes me sleep - but because at the moment I drink it I believe that I shall sleep. An illustration of the perfect usefulness of science. The potion necessary to make me sleep does not exist. But the potion that provides the illusion that I shall, does.
Belief is everything.
Faith is everything.
It is the same with love.
The vulgar error is to think that love is a kind of illusion. It is the fault of bad poets who encourage this mistake. 'I am completely enraptured,' lovers say, as if somehow they were being deceived. When the affair ends, they say, 'I have been stripped of my illusions' When they cease to love they say, "oh I see clearly now'.
The reverse is the truth. The everyday world is shrouded. We see it dimly. Only when we love do we see the true person. The truth of a person is only visible through love. Love is not the illusion. Life is."

Now there's a topic for debate.

Willow, willow, sing willow

I had a nice long talk with meg tonight, I miss our talks. We're both so busy all the time, but when we do make time, its nice. I don't think I have another friend (in ny) who I really feel listens to me quite like she does. She's great, I liker her a lot.

Today has been hard. This morning was full of dissapointments, little trivial things which for some reason were really upsetting me. I felt nearly volatile this morning, combustible. Maybe I didn't sleep long enough or something.

Still no message from Hervé, still don't know if he is coming or not, but all this time waiting makes me think that he isn't and I've been fooled again.
I wish someone would tell you if its the last time you're going to see them. I would have taken so much more time, or done something huge, or cried more. I don't know. How can I make it right? Its all wrong.

Thank GOD for Busybody, its kept me busy enough to stay sane. I feel a bit like my character in Funeral Parlor - just needing to get through the day without dipping into her emotional reality, because its a dark scary place full of sadness and loneliness and if you even test the waters with your toe, you will fall in and never be able to crawl back out.

Tonight I thought about Akilles, for the first time in a very long time. I should write him an email, I wonder how he is doing. He started a new job, he's out of school now. I'm just curious, no big gesture.

Talked to my mom on the phone today for two hours - her idea of a "short" conversation. GOD how depressing. I just feel helpless and guilt-ridden and awful and horrible and useless and selfish and mean. And things at home are a disaster, and I hate spending time there and I feel horrible about it.

I need to know if Hervé is coming, but I'm afraid of the answer. I'm afraid. I want to call you but I'm afraid. Maybe I'll have an email tomorrow.

one way ticket to france: $346 dollars.

Tomorrow is such a long time...

I'm now living in a weird cloud. Endgame is over, Busybody tech is about to start. I spend a lot of time in rehearsal deep in my own thoughts, which as we all know, is absolutely 100% toxic.

I've also been writing silly metaphorical rhyming poetry, restoration-style. Its absurd.

Talked to mom on the phone today. Poison. Now she wants me to come to Oregon to see plays on Easter weekend, and if that means I can't go to France then that's what it means. Ummmm WHAT?! So you are giving me tickets to France as a gift but then deciding instead that I'm going to Ashland and not to France? I mean I hate to look a gift-horse in the mouth but bitch, you are one crazy fucking horse! She's also spending Thanksgiving alone, for which I could just scourge myself to death. I swear, my relationship with my mother is the world's deadliest mine-field.

Hervé is still coming for thanksgiving...I think. At least he was as of last week when I last heard from him, I hope that still means yes. I want to see him so badly and yet I'm dreading it with my entire being. I just have the strongest feeling that its going to end with me being very very sad, and I'm not usually wrong about these things.
I've found myself thinking and saying depressing things, like its only safe to be alone, and when you risk everything you lose everything. I'm feeling very afraid, afraid of everything, I feel like my next big disaster is right around the corner and I'm petrified. I don't know if there is someone here who can catch me this time. I mean I'm not gonna go jumping off a cliff but I'm not going to bounce back very well from this, I can see it already. And I hate struggling.

My Dad has a new job. So that's good. However, it doesn't seem to have calmed his explosive outbursts towards Mom, so what the fuck good does that do me? God, they are a mess. You think when people have been married 35 years they must really love each other; but then I look at my parents and I just think, "I'm never getting married. Ever."

I just can't deal with all these apprehensions, I feel unprepared and I don't know what I can do to make it better. The only way I am surviving is by ignoring it most of the day. And that can't last forever.

In other news, I might not be able to finish one of my three majors. Not sure, I have to talk to my advisors. I'm supposed to register tomorrow but uhhh I don't have my pin...oops...


"well, you're on earth...there's no cure for that!"

I forgot about you!

So...sorry I haven't posted in a loooooong time. For me. Which is not long for regular people.

Busybody rehearsals are way more than underway, we go into Tech alarmingly soon. We're almost done blocking the show. I'm in it for about 5 minutes, but its a fun five minutes, so I'm perfectly pleased. My costume is so pretty! Its hot pink with cleavage up to my eyebrows. Awesome. I love the designer, I was talking to her while we were in the shop today. She is so pretty and nice! She's assisting at Lincoln Center right now, she went to Yale. She's sooooo good, man, its exciting. I mean I could never do it, but to have her as a designer is exciting.

Endgame is taking up all of my time, I've been busting my ass on the costumes. I don't know how I feel about them, i think I like them, but I don't know if other people will. I mean it does fit with the concept. I've still got work to do tomorrow though, Doh!

Hervé and I had a big heart-to-heart. He's great because he's so realistic and down-to-earth, and he's open with me. But that means he tells me things I don't want to hear, you know, like the truth. Who wants that? Oh wait, me. Or at least I think I do. In principle, not in practice. No I mean I do. I just...I mean fuck the truth, really.
I just really really like him, but things are looking really really impossible. He's coming to visit for Thanksgiving, I'm so anxious to see him and yet so scared. I keep telling myself that if I lose 20 pounds and look really really great when he comes everything will be peachy...so untrue. Why do the good ones never stick around? Or live in the same country? He's so great. Its not fair.
I was so upset about it last week, he wrote me a very long, very honest email last wednesday and I was just...not in a good place. I spent hours writing a response and then I got REALLY stoned. I read my response later and it was like someone else had written it. I feel so lost right now. I just know that when I close my eyes at night I see him, that's got to mean something. I daydream about him all the time, his name pops into my head at random times. I think of little stories about him in every conversation. I don't know if that's love, I get that way so fast. The speeding train. Last week it hit the tracks and derailed and I've spent every last ounce of energy I've had, which hasn't been much due to all the work I've had, trying to drag it back on course. But the track has changed, I can't tell how, maybe the destination...something palpable has skidded off and I have the most rotten feeling that I'm going to end up broken and beaten down and at the bottom of the emotional gutter once again. I could break it off now, but every time I even dare to let that thought enter my mind, I just want to vomit. I feel very mixed up. I imagine his face and try to think what my reaction is going to be. Hopefully I won't just burst into tears. I'm scared that this is going to be the last time he wants to see me.
Whats wrong with me? God.

Alright, well its 1:30 already and class starts bright and early at 9am. I'm doing a scene from Funeral Parlor by Christopher Durang. Its funny, my partner is great. Hopefully I'll be fucking done with Endgame costumes tomorrow. I still have to show up every night for make-up. Sigh.

Also registration coming up. Important decisions about the future! Ooo!!

Je Suis Berenice

C'est moi seul aussi qui pouvais me détruire
Je pouvais vivre alors et me laisser séduire;
Mon coeur se garder bien d'aller dans l'avenir
Chercher à ce qui pouvait un jour nous désunir.
Je voulais qu'à mes voeux rien ne fût invincible,
J'examinais rien, j'espérais l'impossible,
Que sais-je? J'espérais de mourir à vos yeux,
avant que d'en venir à ces cruels adieux.

Cette bouche à mes yeux s'avouant infidèle,
M'ordonnât elle-même une absence éternelle.
Moi-même j'ai voulu vous entendre en ce lieu.
Je n'écoute plus rien. Et pour jamais: adieu
Pour jamais! Ah! Seigneur, songez-vous en vous-même
Combien ce mot cruel est affreux quand on aime?
Dans un mois, dans un an, comment soufrirons-nous,
Seigneur, que tant de mers me séparent de vous?
Que le jour recommence et que le jour finisse,
sand que jamais Titus puisse voir Bérénice,
Sans que tout le jour je puisse voir Titus?
Mais quelle est mon erreur, et que de soins perdus!

Que dis-je? En ce moment mon coeur, hors de lui-même,
S'oublie, et se souvient seulement qu'il vous aime.

Slump City

I'm in an awful slump. In every way.
I'm uninspired and bored and lonely.
The only fun I've really had in the last two weeks is popping bubble-wrap and watching hours of Without A Trace.

I just feel like I'm sleep-walking through my life. I don't get excited about anything, all I do all day long is listen. Listen to other people stories and problems and ideas and beliefs and lessons and I step farther and farther away from myself. Its an awful feeling, and it makes me resentful and angry. But I'm so stifled that it all gets pushed down down down somewhere where all that resentment and anger and sadness hides and then comes out in vocal lab when I have nervous breakdowns in front of the entire class.

I should probably be in therapy but I can't afford it.

My dad is going to accept a new job; with a huge pay-cut of course. My mom is gonna have to go back to work. She doesn't get to go to her therapist every week anymore. Things are rotten at home, my dad exploded at her again. My sister has dissappeared off the face of the planet. I am completely frustrated and bored at school. My acting teacher doesn't know my name. I am unremarkable in all of my other classes. Everyone around me is getting on my nerves. I'm eating everything in sight and obsessing about my weight at the same time. My sex life is non-existant, and I don't know when or if my boyfriend is coming to visit soon. And to top it all off, my Dad's new company won't pay for my anxiety medication. Which means I can look forward to feeling like this for a long long time.

Its 2:15am and I have to work tomorrow. I'm so tired but I can't sleep. I feel frozen and floating away. I smoked and drank and did everything I could think of. I don't know how to thaw out. I forget how tap into that real place. I just woke up and felt paralyzed. What is going on?

Dilemma

Alright so I have a major dilemma.

I could work tomorrow and friday and make another $400, which would be amazing. I mean, I could fly to france for $400. It probably wouldn't end up going to that, I mean, I don't really have time to go to france anyway, except for this summer I mean. But ohhh would that money be nice. So so nice.

BUT I've got lots to do for endgame, and just life-stuff to do. Like laundry and normal people things. I could spend these two days getting serious Endgame shit done, it would be sooooo good.

I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll compromise and come in on friday and then spend tomorrow on Endgame.

Life is hard.

Brrrrrrr!!

Its cold in here!
How did the temperature fall from a daily high of 68 to a daily high of freezing fucking cold in two days? Its winter, legitimately, its freaking me out. I'm not ready for that bone-chilling new-england cold. I'm not ready yet!! Nooooo!

What an exhausting week. Had two term papers to complete, one due on tuesday and one due on wednesday. I tried to pull two all nighters in a row, but seeing as how I have enough trouble pulling a single, a double was absolutely impossible. I managed to sleep a couple of hours both nights. Still not enough. And then I headed into the end of my week with no energy at all. I got my pay check (YES!!!!!!!!!) at Cohn Dutcher, that was exciting. I'm not gonna say I had a great time, but considering the work, I don't think it could possible have been any better. It was nice to be around fun people with real lives that aren't caught up in fordham-theatre-social bullshit. Let's all breath a collective sigh of relief at that one.

Subsequently, I have been shopping online trying to decide on what nice thing to buy myself as a splurge. We all need to endulge ourselves sometime! I haven't decided yet...a really fun pair of boots or pretty underthings...hmmmmm. Hard decision. I think I'm just gonna ask for that for christmas. This year I'm not letting my mom buy me a million little things. I'm just gonna ask for the unabridged diaries of Anaïs Nin and these boots that I want, and that's all. Seriously, she gives me enough.

My dad is narrowing down his job choices. Praise the lord he's had plenty of offers. One job pays very well but it would require him traveling quite a bit, so its just like the job he just had. Only you know, the people at the company aren't completely incompetent (hopefully). The other one is working as an office manager and salesman at a firm in my hometown, so he would be home every single night. Which is WEIRD for him. I realize that's normal for everyone else, but for the last 30 years he has been traveling all the time for work and pretty much only home on the weekends. I'm not sure he really realized what that's gonna be like, to be home every night. He says he feels like he "owes it to mom" but really, I feel like that could make them fight even more. Because even seeing eachother only on the weekends is causing problems, I mean clearly, there is a lot of shit to work on he is not facing. I'm not sure having to face that you're not facing it more would be a good thing or a bad thing.
Ultimately my mom and I both told him we want him to make the decision for himself and whatever he chooses will be fine. My mom will probably have to go back to work if he takes the non-traveling job. That would be weird, but who knows, maybe it would be good for her.

God my room is freezing!! Fordham hasn't agreed to turn on the heat yet. Because they are giant assholes. Its SO COLD in my room, last night I was shivering and my teeth were chattering, it was awful. I can't wait to move out of this ridiculous building, which if I don't make RA, I will get to do this spring!! Scary but exciting...if I only had money to get a nice apartment.

I haven't heard from Hervé in over a week :( I miss him, I worry about him too much. I know its crazy but I keep imagining him meeting someone else and never speaking to me again. God that would be awful. Cherie, si tu es en train de lire cela, m'écris un email, j'ai trop hâte d'avoir tes nouvelles!

Busybody rehearsals have started as well, we had our read-through which was ummmmmmmm ok. We've been doing lots of clown exercises which have been great, and I really hope people bring that to their work. This play will just be a disaster if we let it be boring. Well I shouldn't say we, I have nothing to worry about at all, my character waltzes on in a low-cut dress, jiggles around being slutty for ten minutes and then dissapears. Done and done. I'm excited. But I would hate for the play to fail, that's never fun.

I like the director a lot, she's also our theatre history teacher. She's cooky but really smart and I think she's got a sharp eye for what she wants, she's really cracking down on people. I just hope she gets results, some people are working on some major changes.

I've been a complete Hermit lately, I don't go out. I pretty much crash when I get home, or I sit up talking to Morgan.
I'm feeling those familiar lonely feelings, I don't know why they descend on me but they do. I just extract myself from the real present relationships in my life. Maybe its a defense mechanism. I'm also super uncomfortable with my laziness lately I need to hit the gym people!

OH and on an incredibly angering note: turns out my insurance doesn't pay for ANY kind of birth control except TUBAL LIGATION. That means getting your TUBES TIED. Can you believe that?! How fucking neo-christian right-wing patriarchal bullshit is that?! EVERYONE's fucking insurance covers birth control!! So I'm basically fucked because my birth control is on the pricey side because its a new special kind (Mara, you know what I'm talking about) so its like 50 bucks. I can't afford that every month, please. I may end up having to go on a different method that's cheaper. Its fucked. I hate men.
Its all so ridiculous because if I actually got pregnant, my medical bills for all the pre-natal check-ups and ultrasounds and shit would be so much. It doesn't even make fiscal sense for the insurance company not to pay birth control! A pox on them, I say.

My Slice of Life is a little stale

So I woke up early this morning, showered, got on the subway, got to work, clipped, filed and scanned until 2, ate lunch, clipped filed and scanned some more. I leave in about half an hour. I go straight to rehearsal, which I will get out of hopefully at 10pm so I can have a drink with some family friends who are in town.

Is this what the real world is like? Wake up, work boring job, got straight to rehearsal and exhaust yourself until 11pm, then try and have a social life for two hours before you drop dead, knowing you'll get up in 6 hours and do the same thing all over again? Where is a personal life supposed to fit into this? I'm supposed to get home at 11 and somehow be able to sustain a relationship on the half hour left before we both go to bed? This is impossible!

See, this is why I will be alone for the rest of my life. A man would have to really really love me and know that a hectic schedule like that was short-term to want to stick it out. Even my boyfriend who is the patient, kind, generous person maybe on the planet.

doooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom

Midterms: Update

Delicious midterms have arrived, which means I have two term papers due, one on tuesday and one on wednesday. And when am I going to write them? Monday of course! That's what that day is for!! Well that and the Macy's sale, but with the current state of my bank account its much better that I spend that time studying...yeah...

I realized this weekend, I have become a moderately boring person. I like to be alone a lot. And I don't go out very much, I mean besides just out with friends. I never go clubbing or to museums even or really anything. I pretty much only go out when I'm dragged out. That is bizarre.

Also, my insurance company won't pay for my birth control. Fuckers.

I find it disheartening that so many of my good friends who are writers, most of them men, really have trouble writing females. I was even a little offended, not that the writing is particularly mysoginist, but they just don't write women as human beings. If they wrote women the way they wrote men, everything would be fine. But instead they get the treatment of charicatures, these creations with random emotions who make arbitrary choices, they don't have human complications just like the male characters do. Its just not that simple! Clearly, men and women are not the same. But we're not THAT different. The human condition still applies to us, we still deal with it just the way you do.
I just find this frustrating, I don't want to spend the rest of my career playing characters who I have to fight to relate to.

I've been looking into what I would need to get a teaching job in france someday. I've been thinking about it a lot. I mean no matter what I decide to do, the point is gonna come where I do have to choose something. I don't want to float around forever working a job I hate and doing nothing that fulfills me in a city I don't love, putting myself into debt.
After I graduate from school, I'll stay in New York for a couple of years, and then I have got to decide. And let me tell you, lately France has been looking like an awfully nice choice. I just wish i could do theatre there, if I could really act there, I would do it. But I feel like choosing France is giving that up and I would regret doing that. Maybe, I think. I don't know. Sometimes I wish I didn't really love this, it would make everything a lot easier.

Well i've got to get together rehearsal costumes for Endgame. I have to go to the store to do that though, and my pajamas are reeeeeally comfortable...hmm...

One Way Ticket

Um...where's my boyfriend?

I think I'll move to France. It was nice knowing you all.

Bye!

More Late Night Posts!

These next two weeks are gonna be intense. The rest of this week will include this job I'm doing for Katie, which I start tomorrow afternoon. After a full day of Acting class in the early morning, Civil war class, and then vocal lab where hopefully we won't see a repeat of my lovely demonstration last week. If that happens again, I'm going straight to therapy.

I have noticed that my emotional life, which is always harrowing at best, has been really close to the surface lately. I've been trying to take my anxiety meds more regularly, which always seems to help. Not sure why this has become such a problem lately, maybe its the birth control. Its nothing terrible I guess, I just hope its not a symptom of some big scary breakdown to come. All I know is I was nearly gonna scream today in draping because I couldn't get this pin through my dress form...that's pretty unstable. Michelle (prof) was like, "Deb. You're frustration is way too big for this room." Its true. And then we reminisced about the time when she was goofing arounf with me before my final critique for her design class and I burst into tears. And I realized all of a sudden: she thinks I'm completely nuts.

Maybe its true.

Anyhow, this long weekend will hardly be a break, I've got two papers due next week, tuesday and wednesday, and I'll be working all weekend on Katie's project too. Plus there's rehearsing for acting, and I've got to start combing Salvation Army's fo Endgame pieces. Under no circumstances do i want to put that shit off.

I was hoping maybe these two difficult weeks would end with a visit from my boyfriend, but that seems less and less likely. Sigh. I hope I see him soon. I'm not sure how he's doing, sometimes I think he doesn't want me to worry so tries to put things as positively as possible. And yes I realize you are probably reading this :) Hehe.

See? Everyone who knows me thinks I am completely unstable. Maybe I should examine this.

Orrrrrrrr maybe I'll just go to sleep!

gnight y'all

More Sick Days

Spent most of the day in bed today, trying not to feel nauseous. I managed to keep down three meals though, and I'm doing my best to drink lots of fluids. Also, popsicles are the best things ever. I don't know why I eat popsicles when I'm sick, I just do. I think my mom used to give them to me when I had sore throats, maybe its just out of habit. Mmm, I could go for a popsicle right now. I probably shouldn't eat one in bed though...that spells disaster. That reminds me, I need to wash these sheets, they're probably covered in germs.

I also tried to watch about 4 movies today but I kept getting frustrated, because I've seen all of my movies before. I ended up watching 3 episodes of Law&Order, and most of the Fugitive, with Harrison Ford. I love him, he's so comforting to me. He's just so decent and father-like. And as Indiana Jones he saves the world and beats the bad guys to important magical artifacts, how cool is that? Maybe he reminds me a little bit of what my image of my own father used to be like, before I knew what my father actually was like. Talk about your dissapointments.

You know what I love about New York City? You can lay in your bed at any hour of the day or night and still hear at least 4 taxi's honking at each other. Fabulous. Especially, when you're feeling stuffed up and head-achy.

I also spent a good deal of time writing out my schedule for the next two weeks, and I slowly realized how much shit I have to do. I've got a bunch of papers and deadlines, this project I'm doing for katie (at least I'm getting paid for that)...strange. I think once midterms are over though, things should be pretty calm.

I love getting emails :) I love going to bed smiling, I love....well you know who you are.

Its late, and I'm not tired. I've been sleeping on and off all day. I don't know if I'll feel better tomorrow, or worse. Qu'est-ce que vous pensez, hein? I guess I'll lay my head down on the pillow and see what comes. God knows I can't stomach another movie.

Bonne nuit à tous
Here's hoping I feel better tomorrow!

I Feel Icky

So wednesday night I started feeling a little weird, sore throat, sniffles. And then I woke up thursday morning and BOOM. I'm sick. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I spent most of my day in bed, although I did venture out to the grocery store because I had no food and I got the feeling it was only gonna get worse so I better stock up now. And I was right. My eyes are watering, I can't breathe out of my nose, I have sinus pressure up to *here*. I just feel pretty all-around gross. Which I'm not handling very well because I don't often get sick.

I realized I haven't been sick in at least a year. I wasn't sick in Paris, I wasn't sick that fall - just stressed out and near a breakdown, but that's different. I'm usually not super susceptible to this stuff, why has my armor chipped? Nooooooo!! Anyway, at least I have an excuse to sit around in my pajamas watching 6 hours of six feet under and eating popsicles.

I also watched trystan and isolde. WHOA was that movie full of historical inaccuracies. And I'm not a super stickler for that kind of thing, especially in a movie with James Franco (clearly I'm not watching it for a history lesson). But the Irish never EVER conquered England, ok? That just offends so many good plays and stories that it is mind boggling. Plus that's what's so adorable about the irish, they just stayed on their little island and never bothered with anyone else. Well until they were attacked and colonized in the 14 century but that's another story. And even then they never attacked bloddy England, I mean jesus, they aren't stupid.
Anyway, terrible movie. James Franco is worth it though. And it has that adorable little kid from Love Actually. You know, the curly blonde haired boy with the Dora The Explorer-sized eyes? Point is, the movie is highly missable, unless you want to drool over James Franco who was, admittedly, better in Freaks & Geeks.

I've got a bunch of shit to do today, I have to go pick up the play for my acting class and read it. I should probably also have some visual research for my production meeting tonight. Plus, I have an appointment at Apple to have my iPod fixed/replaced and the Endgame read-through at 6:30. Not exactly my ideal schedule, considering I feel like I want to lay in bed all day and moan.

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhh mmmmmmmmmmmm guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Break-it Down

I had trouble sleeping last night, I tossed and turned and woke up many many times. My mind was racing, running away from the 20 nightmares that flipped through my mind like snapshots. Murphy's Law. That's what plays out in my dreams.

After dreading my performance this morning in class, I finally finished Hedda Gabler. I think I learned a lot about my own process, and maybe even my own strengths. Its funny, because I can't seem to play a character that doesn't have integrity and that isn't on some level vulnerable and fragile. Even a force-of-nature like Hedda, who is strong, demanding, and self-sufficient. I guess despite how complete we all are (or aren't) we all have dreams.

I skipped my history class today (ooooops) to sit in on Nicole's presentation for Endgame, which I'm designing in november. It was interesting, not necessarily terribly helpful for the costumes but it was an interesting insight into how a director's process works, how we approach a play. A bit of insight into Nicole as well, hehe.

Then I had vocal lab. Which was AWFUL. I knew, I just knew I was dreading performing my poem for some reason. I could never put my finger on it but every time she invited someone to go, I would stay glued to my spot - I never had the impulse to go. Today when I did, I could already feel the tears, the burning in my throat, mounting into my voice before I even finished the poem. When Elena touched me, I began to cry and then just waves and waves of helplessness came crashing over me and I could not stop crying. I felt like I was on display and no one wanted to watch this sad person, falling apart. It was terrible. I tried to breath through it, but my breath kept catching in my throat and chest. I was hiccuping and tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was trying so hard not to sob, to get control of myself, but I just kept digging deeper and deeper. I wanted to run out of the room, and when I did get back to my apartment there was no where to hide. My roomate was in the room, people were in the common room, just people everywhere. I just wanted to cry and I couldnt and I sat on the couch and stared at the television which Sammy was watching. Finally I crawled off to my room and took a nap.

I guess I do though, I do feel helpless. Or I feel guilty, feel like I should be doing something but its easier to do nothing. Every time I sit down and talk to one of them, I get caught up in it and I just want to throw myself out of window. Its a horrible situation that has no happy ending possible and even no ending in sight. Just misery stretching on and on, and I can't do anything to stop it. I hate that they're both miserable. I don't know the answer, I just can't fix it. I can't escape it, but I can't fix it, and I can't change it. All I can do is try to be there, but absorbing that pain and sorrow and fatigue and hurt just piles on top of me so much, sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. I don't talk about it, I guess, not out loud and I haven't cried about it in quite some time. But today it came pouring out of me and I couldn't stop it, so there I was crying hysterically in front of a dozen people, just sitting and staring at me with pity in their eyes. It was horrible.

I was walking away from class and Julia was talking to me, she asked, "is it about boys?"
Of course not, I told her, my boyfriend is wonderful. And he is, he is kind and patient and loving and he makes me laugh. I've never been more satisfied with that area of my life before. But it seems like once one part of my life straightens itself out and I just start to feel like I've got a handle on things, everything else slowly falls apart. And something tells me that this, is not going to change.

I know I know, its my life not theirs, I can't let their problems drag me through hell. They're adults and I should trust them to take care of their own lives. But my parents, my family, it just hurts me, pains me so greatly to see them unhappy. To see them in anguish, year after year, it is so hard. I can't make them happy, but I can't stand to see them like this. Its ripping me apart. And I can't fix it. And it feels awful.

Anyway...I was gonna try and stay up to see if Hervé gets online, but I'm sure he's got about a million things to do and I'm useless right now anyway. Maybe he'll be there in a few hours.

bonne nuit!

Fucking fuck fuck fuck

When my parents have arguments, I have to explain them later to my dad.
I have to explain to him why she was angry, what she was saying, and why it wasn't a good idea to say that horrible thing/storm out/shove her.
And he tells me that he tries to stay calm but that she just keeps talking and talking and he loses it. And I don't know what to say to him, because I just don't and this isn't my job and I don't want to talk about this. How can you say to your father that you think he's out of control? That you're afraid he'll end up in jail and you'll have to drop out of school, move back home and get a full time job to help mom with the house payments? How do you say that when he's trying, but when you talk to him you see already that he's going to fail?
I just can't stand to watch him crumble before me while the rest of my world crumbles too.
I just can't worry about this stuff, I'm so tired of worrying about it.

I just hate being a grown up.

the Game

I was talking to a friend of mine last night, who happens to be an ex-of-sorts of mine, who had just been out on a date with a girl he's really into (yes I ended a sentence with a preposition). He gets back from what I would call an extremely successful date with her, where they talked all night long about meaningful things. And the poor guy can't even be happy about it because he's so convinced he's gonna fuck it up. He's so scared, and it made me rethink all the awful things I've thought about men/people in the past.

He's probably not a representative sample, he's quite brilliant and sensitive, but he started talking about 'the game'. He said, "she's really smart, smarter than me, and she just knows how to play it. Like you did"

So why do we play games? I was thinking about something I saw on Six Feet Under last night, where Ruth reminds Claire that the basis of intimacy is truth. Truth. So all the hiding, all the masking, all the pretending and planning that is involved in playing games must be designed - whether consciously or not - to avoid the truth. Because truth leads to real intimacy.

And then I had an epiphany, I realized what I and I think many other people are so afraid of about intimacy, and the truth. Maybe I'm just channeling my own experience right now, but part of what I've been struggling with so much with not talking to Hervé is this inexplicably dreaded fact. Fact - as in truth.

That maybe I need him. Maybe sometimes people need each other. We're supposed to be self-sufficient and independent and healthy and be able to figure it all out on our own. But maybe, really, that shouldn't be the ideal. Why is struggling and being alone better than admitting and surrendering to needing someone? Why is that so much more admired and why do we shame ourselves for not just wanting but requiring someone else's help. Man hasn't been a lone, nomadic hunter-gatherer for hundreds of thousands of years, even homo erectus traveled in groups.

Some people are great at being alone. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with that, and years of psychotherapy tell me that only the self-sufficient are healthy. But then why the fuck does everyone have a psychotherapist in the first place? Maybe not everyone needs intimacy in their lives, but something tells me that if everyone had it - whether that be with a parent, a friend, a sibling, a lover, a child, a pet, a fucking houseplant WHATEVER - maybe it would solve a lot of things.
Maybe that's why you see people on the street talking to themselves. They've got to tell the truth to someone.

I don't blame my friend for being scared. He's carrying around a lot of darkness with him and he's afraid to show it to anyone, especially someone who's opinion he lives and breathes by. That's a weighty fear, a worthy fear, maybe not justified, but one I can understand on a deep level. Its hard to share that truth with someone, you're afraid they will turn away, or be disgusted, or think you are disturbed. But I've watched my father struggle through his life, unable to have emotional intimacy with anyone, and he's become so alienated from his own feelings that sometimes I feel like he's drowning right before my eyes and I don't know how to save him. I'm not around to reach out to him all the time. The truth is, I don't know that it isn't too late to save him. I'm not sure he would know the truth inside himself, even if he went digging for it. Shouldn't that be what we're REALLY afraid of? Instead of being afraid of sharing with each other? Of needing each other?

Sorry to get so profound on you at 8:30 in the morning, but I've been tossing and turning all night, thinking about this.

Scenes from 10F

(sitting in living room, discussing ways to make a mold of Meg's boyfriend's penis)

Sammy: Get a milk carton, put his penis in, and then poor in plaster of paris!
Me: Yeah but, how would you get it out? I mean once it hardened, couldn't that hurt, pullling it out?
Sammy: Oh yeah...
Erin: and you have to figure out some way to keep him hard the whole time.
Me: I don't know. Just lick his asshole

(laughter)

Sammy: Another thing you could do is papier maché...
Meg: Or Jell-o!
Me: Mmmmmmm jell-o penis....

(Nicole meanwhile, sculpts a penis out of bluw play-doh)

Nicole: Lookie!!

you know, bring drunk is funny

So my schedule allows me to have four day weekends, every week. Which is great. Except for I realize it leads me to one of my two worst tendencies, which is either to be disgustingly unproductive or dangerously emotional and caught inside my worries and insecurities. And I always sleep until 1pm. And I drink and smoke too much.

I need to channel this restlessness into cleaning orrrrrr exercise like all those people I hate.

I've been sleeping horribly as well, I think one of the reasons I sleep so late every day is because I never get into the right rhythm until like 6am, and then I'm still awakened every couple of hours. I wonder what profound effect this has on my personality. Maybe I should take sleeping pills. Maybe it would help my tremor. My brain doesn't have the time to stretch and exercise my neurons and synapses and so they become slow and brittle and I have lost the ability to keep my hands steady.
My doctor assured me that benign (sp?) tremors do exist. WebMD says they can lead to stroke. Fuck WebMD. WebMD also tells me I may have lupus.

I've also decided that working out has absolutely no effect on me anymore. But I also blame the drunk munchies I guess.
Losing weight is so hard, I wish I didn't worry about it so much. I just look at myself in the mirror and I think, "this is not what a woman's body is supposed to look like". But then I realize I have no idea what it is supposed to look like. And then I get confused and eat some cheezits to calm myself. But its ok, cheezits are magic and can't make you fat. I heard its true.

I've got to score my scene for Hedda Gabler (as I like to mispronounce, Hedda Jablé) and I have got to clean my room, and probably the bathroom. I really hate being not neat. Its so much less aesthetically stressful if things are in their proper (or invisible) place. And I've got to have a serious rehearsal with John when he gets back from Rose Hill, I hope that is soon, because I'd like to go out to Queens tonight.

No word from Hervé since the 7th. I hope he comes home from his trip soon, I'm starting to believe that I've completely invented him.

Monday monday...

Having class at 9:30 in the morning really makes my day strange.
I woke up at 8, made myself breakfast and then sat at the table thinking for about half an hour. My prof had us answer the seven questions (Who are you? What do you want? What are your obstacles etc.) for ourselves and let me tell you, my self-concept is extremely sub-par at 8 in the morning. All I could think of wanting to do was to go back to bed.

Acting class was interesting. Matthew didn't jump in as much as I would have liked, I'm a little dissapointed. But Tina had good things to say, so I feel I have somewhere to go for wednesday. We have to come up with something super different, part of me always dreads that exercise. exercize. how do you spell that word.

Then I had my civil war class which is A-W-F-U-L. I am literally falling asleep the ENTIRE class with the professor staring right at me. Which he does a lot. More than my share I would say, although I guess since my eyes are closed sometimes that may have something to do with it. He just stands there and lectures! And he talks really slow! And I'd been up since 8! This is a really difficult situation for me. Really not sure about what to do. I wish caffeine worked on me, damn ADD.

Well anyway, I stumbled back to my apart after class and took a nap which I just woke up from kinda. It was not a great nap, I have to admit. It was very mediocre and I don't feel so great now. Suck. Oh well, sometimes you get a good nap, sometimes you get a sucky one.

I'm gonna drop by Alicia's tonight, see what's goin on with that bugger. Being back is weird, still weird.

No emails today :( He really needs to get a computer.

Weekends are for winners!

I need to start going to bed at reasonable hours. 4am leads to getting out of bed at 2pm, which leads to more going to sleep ar 4am. Its a vicious cycle, which is starting to disgust even me.

Tomorrow I have to get on a normal healthy schedule, I've got to buy some last supplies for the apartment, do some cooking to get me through the week, and hopefully clean and organise. And rehearse with John more, for our Hedda Gabler scene.

I've been having an awful time this weekend, struggling against the pressure that is everywhere to weigh 12 pounds. Its been really hard, especially since all I've been doing in eating. Eating is just way to fun!

I went to Queens today and watched Design Star with Ian and Hannah, and then made a glorious dinner. We chatted about my trip and drank some wine and had a general lovely evening. I was planning on staying the night but then I just kept dreaming about my bed at my apartment and I was lured back. BUT we watched a GREAT movie.

Ed Wood. The story of the "worst director of all time" with a brilliant BRILLANT cast, including the always fabulous Johnny Depp in a heartbreaking performance. Also great performance by Walter Matthau (sp?). Beautiful clever sensitive movie - Tim Burton of course.

Alright, I can't process any more thought. Goodnight!

The Groove

I made the most amazingly beautiful and delicious blueberry pancake this morning.
I love blueberry pancakes.

Then I cleaned my room and organised and now I'm figuring out what to do with my weekend.
I want to go see friends I haven't seen yet, like Juliet and go out to Queens to hang out. I wish I lived in Queens and not in this bedroom with A ROOMATE. I now fully realize I hate not having my own room. I HATE IT. I need my own space and not to have to talk to someone all the time. Not to mention her decorating (or I should say COMPLETE lack thereof) is depressing. I feel like I'm living in a mental hospital. Well I am sort of.

I love having suitemates, just not a roomate. And it has nothing to do with her either, she's a great girl, I just need my own space.

I MEAN REALLY, PUT UP SOME POSTERS OR SOMETHING!!!!

I'm listening to jazz.

Also, why is a nice bottle of wine 20 dollars? That's too much.

Hervé comes in october!

I'm looking through my scene from Hedda Gabler for acting class. I think its the same scene that Dana had last semester maybe I'll ask her advice. I've got to start working on it though, we have to be on our feet on monday, and I've got to have strong choices made. And I think I have to do some shit for vocal lab too. And reading to do for theare history, and for my civil war class...even though I uh don't have the books yet... problem? Perhaps.

I'm boring. But make great blueberry pancakes. It all evens out in the end.

The First of MANY Self-Pity Posts

I knew I would get there eventually, I just didn't realize I would get there so very soon.

I'm already feeling completely worthless and alienated, especially after the events of this morning which have left me realizing that nothing really has changed. Just because I'd decided I lived in this beautiful new world where I have a place, doesn't mean it really exists.

I just get so tired of having to fight so hard for credibility, for just a chance, for just a regard. I feel exhausted, after one week I feel utterly exhausted and alone. I feel like I don't have the courage to do this all the time, I can't possibly be expected to do this all the time when others have gilded footprints wherever they step. There is no never-ending well of courage, there is nothing like that. Just me, broken down and dissapointed and then finally realizing its pathetic not to try something, anything, to pull yourself up from the bottom. But my arms are tired from reaching, my legs are sinking into the mud, and no one seems to be interested in pulling me out.

What kills me the most is that the role I've been given is so brief but will still I'm sure manage to make me unelligible to try out for any of the november and december shows. Doors are shutting so fast, it seems everywhere I turn I just catch the slamming of the frame shaking and am left in an empty room with no way out. I didn't come back to New York to sink deeper, I came back to start something new. I don't think anyone else did, however. No one is particularly interested in changing anything.

I'm just dreading dreading the readthrough where I will sit for three hours listening to the play, throw in my five or six lines, and then liften to the end. Then we'll discuss the play and our impressions and I'll be grateful and smiling and interested, I'll have to be, because they think this is a gift. I hate it. I hate it. I hate having to act all the time. Why is me not good enough?

One-way trip to Lyon, France: $270
I long to be with someone who wants, someone who needs, someone who cherishes me.

Suprise?

So Fordham is closing the costume shop, tonight I discussed this with Morgan for quite some time. This means we can't construct for mainstage shows, we can't pull from stock for studio shows, and we have no facilities for our costume design majors. All mainstage shows will be in modern dress. All studio shows won't have any costume elements, basically, and all design majors will have no practical experience in a shop of any kind, nor will they have any experience building costumes. We'll just have to shop all the shows, buy things in stores. But do they give us any more money? Sure sure, $75. Seventy-five dollars. That's supposed to make up for the fact that we don't even have a pair of SHOES anywhere we can use. You have to pull from the actors' own wardrobe or buy EVERYTHING. For those of you who haven't yet realized, this is a complete disaster. A horribble disaster. And the department is all hyped because our auditions are going national, and we're starting to compete with programs like NYU but how can we POSSIBLY even dream of doing that without a full design program?! It is just so SO dissapointing. Every program I'm ever involved in is SO SO GOOD but has facilities that are just deplorable. We're the highlighted program of the school and this is what we get? This is a huge huge blow.

Then this guy, Sasi, who owns the apartment my mom stayed at STILL has her $350 security deposit and won't meet with me to give it back. He was supposed to give it to her the day she left but he was over an hour late so she had to leave to get on her plane. And now he won't return my calls, and when he does he expects me to come up to 187th st to pick it up! HEEEELLLL NO! Do you know where I live? I'm am not strolling up into Harlem at 11 o'clock at night to pick up $350 bucks which should already be in my bank account. YOU need to come to ME. Fuck that, that is bullshit. And what kind of name is Sasi anyway.

We need to get some serious decorating done in my apartment too, I feel like I'm living in a hospital. And my roomate's side of my bedroom looks like she fled the country in haste. Not so homey...

I am full of complaints tonight. I blame the fact that Hervé can't email me tonight, which means I won't have a message when I wake up. I was really getting used to that, it was nice. I hope he comes soon.

I hope I get cast in mainstage, that would be amazing.