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...