Everything is mysterious, confusing, muddling. I feel like life is running me over, and I get so afraid that I sabotage everything. I think I must do it on purpose, albeit subconsciously, so I don't feel completely blindsided. I suppose I'd rather walk straight into traffic so I can brace myself before being struck down. If that makes any sense. Instead of being run down on the sidewalk, unsuspecting.
I was in a very frightening car accident in august and I now have a very visceral memory of what it felt like to be the one careening out of control, feeling yourself floating in air, about to hit cement and feel glass and metal crushing but not feeling it yet. And powerless, in the hands of God some would say. Suspended in time between the unchangeable past and an imminent razor-sharp explosion.
You hold your breath.
And I mean its nothing so serious. This feeling now, it isn't life and death. But you're still running out of air and the consequences are coming closer and closer. It all happens so fast. One gesture and its all over.
And you can stop everything and at the same time you can't. You're omnipotent and yet crippled by what you can't control. You're just scared scared scared.
That's what's horrible about falling in love.
I think I need to breathe. I think that's the key. I think I need to breath and let go. Why do I worry so much? If I'm suspended, frozen between what I've already done and the inevitable consequences, then what have I to worry about?
Today I will ground myself and focus on what's at my fingertips. And breathe.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
McDreamy
You know, its funny. On television, particularly shows with a primarily female audience like my beloved Gray's, there are always these intelligent, sensitive, emotional available, giving, respectful men who just wait around for some certain adorably complicated, tortured, scared and commitment-phobic woman to finally get over her issues and fall in love with them - because why wouldn't she? He's perfect. Its like some sort of sick (i.e. very clever) emotional pornography, we just eat it up - and whats funny about it is all of us women watching the show aren't Meridiths, we aren't represented by the actual woman in this situation. We aren't tortured and self-loathing and emotionally unavailable (not more than usual anyway). We're the McDreamy's. And we're always falling for men who are exactly like Meridith, and that's why we keep coming back, even though this season kind of sucks. Because we all have that male-meridith (or in my case a grand parading series of them) and we long, we long so tenderly for the day that we meet a Dr. Shepherd who lives in the wilderness in an incredibly spacious and well-furnished trailer and gets up at 5am to catch trout every morning before kissing us awake and ravaging us so we can make it through our harrowing (yet sweetly hilarious) day of back to back surgeries with a smile.
Plus, I mean, I wish I had someone to pick out indie-folky-rock gems for my life's soundtrack.
And I mean...let's not forget that he SAVES LIVES.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I don't know what to do with myself.
I was getting ready to go to the gym this afternoon. I'd had a strange night of unsatisfied sleep, it took me hours and hours to finally get comfortable, I couldn't even keep my eyes closed until practically 4 am. I woke up and slept again, woke up and slept again, and I couldn't drag my body out of bed until past noon. I should have known something was very wrong.
My mother called. My Aunt Diane is in the hospital on life support. She may not make it through the night. The woman who survived multiple surgeries on her inner ear and brain, who survived breast cancer all on her own after her husband left her, the woman who is always there for my mother and who had become a fixture in our family even though she lives in Chicago, the woman who sends me three email forwards a day with pictures of kittens...she could be gone in the blink of an eye.
The man who basically is her only family and friend, her life companion, the man who had quit his job basically to take care of her in the last couple of weeks while she was suffering from what she thought were severe panic attacks, was the one who called 9-1-1 when he discovered her unresponsive in the middle of the night. Her lungs had begun to collapse and her heart stopped beating. He was DENIED to right to see her and to speak with her doctor because he's not a relative.
And now I'm sitting here in my room in sneakers and workout clothes, and I'm staring at my telephone and the clock and thinking about what I should do before class and rehearsal, what could possibly make sense to do right now. I can't go work out, I can't go to the grocery store, I can't run to the bank, I can't do anything I need to do, I'm rooted to the spot. I can't do anything that makes any sense because nothing makes sense. Nothing makes any sense.
I was getting ready to go to the gym this afternoon. I'd had a strange night of unsatisfied sleep, it took me hours and hours to finally get comfortable, I couldn't even keep my eyes closed until practically 4 am. I woke up and slept again, woke up and slept again, and I couldn't drag my body out of bed until past noon. I should have known something was very wrong.
My mother called. My Aunt Diane is in the hospital on life support. She may not make it through the night. The woman who survived multiple surgeries on her inner ear and brain, who survived breast cancer all on her own after her husband left her, the woman who is always there for my mother and who had become a fixture in our family even though she lives in Chicago, the woman who sends me three email forwards a day with pictures of kittens...she could be gone in the blink of an eye.
The man who basically is her only family and friend, her life companion, the man who had quit his job basically to take care of her in the last couple of weeks while she was suffering from what she thought were severe panic attacks, was the one who called 9-1-1 when he discovered her unresponsive in the middle of the night. Her lungs had begun to collapse and her heart stopped beating. He was DENIED to right to see her and to speak with her doctor because he's not a relative.
And now I'm sitting here in my room in sneakers and workout clothes, and I'm staring at my telephone and the clock and thinking about what I should do before class and rehearsal, what could possibly make sense to do right now. I can't go work out, I can't go to the grocery store, I can't run to the bank, I can't do anything I need to do, I'm rooted to the spot. I can't do anything that makes any sense because nothing makes sense. Nothing makes any sense.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sleep? What?
After pulling a crazy all-nighter, where I can honestly say that I actually worked through the entire night, and somehow struggling through my oh-so-favorite day of the week, I get home at 11pm and what do I do?
I watch TV and dick around until 2am.
There just comes a point where you are so tired that you just can't stop not sleeping. You think to yourself, "well, it can't get any worse than this"
and then "oh look! A show about the Nick's City Dancers, I should definitely watch this."
I watch TV and dick around until 2am.
There just comes a point where you are so tired that you just can't stop not sleeping. You think to yourself, "well, it can't get any worse than this"
and then "oh look! A show about the Nick's City Dancers, I should definitely watch this."
Monday, October 29, 2007
The 'weak' in 'weekend'
Sammy came to visit for the weekend and it was so great. She and I and Meg spent lots of quality time together. It was so lovely! I miss having them around. I miss normal people! I mean normal but secretly weird and hilarious, but seemingly normal. Actually what I really mean is functional. And not addicted to drugs or alcohol.
Anyway it made us all very nostalgic. Its sad that we'll never all live together in the same town again, considering we lived in the same apartment for three years.
What a great weekend!
Of course I got none of my work down however, so I'm gonna have an awful week full of sleep-deprivation and stress.
I really need to rethink how much effort and thought I put into managing my time.
And less effort and thought into how I'm going to afford to drink.
Anyway it made us all very nostalgic. Its sad that we'll never all live together in the same town again, considering we lived in the same apartment for three years.
What a great weekend!
Of course I got none of my work down however, so I'm gonna have an awful week full of sleep-deprivation and stress.
I really need to rethink how much effort and thought I put into managing my time.
And less effort and thought into how I'm going to afford to drink.
Monday, October 22, 2007
song beneath the song
I like drawing with charcoal. I love it, in fact, so much better than pencil or ink. I think because I can get my hands into the shadows and spread them daintily or piercingly as the case may be. I put my computer on one of my pandora stations () and just zone out.
I also like tearing my putty eraser into long strings and feeling the fibers go soft and downy. Then I rub the charcoal off my wrists and palms (and arms and face and legs etc...I'm a naturally messy person).
I went to bed at 10:30 last night because I just couldn't think about anything that was going on in life right then. I was sitting there discussing the night before with Morgan and I just was so overwhelmed that I stood up, went to my room, took off my clothes, turned the lights off and went to bed. At 10:20 on a saturday! I mean that's not me.
Even so, getting out of bed this morning was still difficult. Not in the I-have-nothing-to-get-up-for way, certainly not, I mean, if nothing else I was hungry since I'd never actually eaten dinner. But my whole body was just so exhausted and I kept waking up and rolling over again, back to sleep.
I was talking to Meg today (love her) about how terrified I am of my show. I mean really if you put it in simplistic terms it's a celebration of a story that...I think is imagined. Not that I don't long for those things too, I mean of a perfect goodness in the universe, but when you come down to it, I can't believe that exists. I mean I can hope it does, but can't fully surrender to that belief. And that's my own fault, I mean at some point in my life, that was a choice I made, somehow.
I often wish I could turn myself around, to get down on my knees, and to give it all over. I've even tried, honestly, even the whole getting down on your knees part. I even tell myself I've done it. But in the end, it turns out that I haven't really, and bad things happen, deep dissapointments come and come again, and I know that they always will. They always will.
That isn't to say that life isn't beautiful, it is. That's what makes it worth living. Some single moments and experiences are so unspeakably beautiful that they can sustain a person for a lifetime, and most lives are full of those moments.
In the middle ages they thought that fate was a wheel. Spinning on the axis of time, you're always on the way up, or on the way down. How can you love the force spinning that wheel? I suppose knowing that once they plunge you into darkness they'll bring you back into the light. But then they just plunge you back into darkness again - i mean - how can you trust that person, give them your love and your faith. And forgive them. My mind and body revolt from surrendering to someone who hurts me, call it hyper-vigilance, call me what you will.
And in the end, it doesn't make a difference what you believe. That wheel keeps turning, time passes and there are beautiful moments and terrible ones, and that is life.
How can I play this part and sincerely wish people to do something that to me, makes no sense? That to me, at least for now, is empty?
I also like tearing my putty eraser into long strings and feeling the fibers go soft and downy. Then I rub the charcoal off my wrists and palms (and arms and face and legs etc...I'm a naturally messy person).
I went to bed at 10:30 last night because I just couldn't think about anything that was going on in life right then. I was sitting there discussing the night before with Morgan and I just was so overwhelmed that I stood up, went to my room, took off my clothes, turned the lights off and went to bed. At 10:20 on a saturday! I mean that's not me.
Even so, getting out of bed this morning was still difficult. Not in the I-have-nothing-to-get-up-for way, certainly not, I mean, if nothing else I was hungry since I'd never actually eaten dinner. But my whole body was just so exhausted and I kept waking up and rolling over again, back to sleep.
I was talking to Meg today (love her) about how terrified I am of my show. I mean really if you put it in simplistic terms it's a celebration of a story that...I think is imagined. Not that I don't long for those things too, I mean of a perfect goodness in the universe, but when you come down to it, I can't believe that exists. I mean I can hope it does, but can't fully surrender to that belief. And that's my own fault, I mean at some point in my life, that was a choice I made, somehow.
I often wish I could turn myself around, to get down on my knees, and to give it all over. I've even tried, honestly, even the whole getting down on your knees part. I even tell myself I've done it. But in the end, it turns out that I haven't really, and bad things happen, deep dissapointments come and come again, and I know that they always will. They always will.
That isn't to say that life isn't beautiful, it is. That's what makes it worth living. Some single moments and experiences are so unspeakably beautiful that they can sustain a person for a lifetime, and most lives are full of those moments.
In the middle ages they thought that fate was a wheel. Spinning on the axis of time, you're always on the way up, or on the way down. How can you love the force spinning that wheel? I suppose knowing that once they plunge you into darkness they'll bring you back into the light. But then they just plunge you back into darkness again - i mean - how can you trust that person, give them your love and your faith. And forgive them. My mind and body revolt from surrendering to someone who hurts me, call it hyper-vigilance, call me what you will.
And in the end, it doesn't make a difference what you believe. That wheel keeps turning, time passes and there are beautiful moments and terrible ones, and that is life.
How can I play this part and sincerely wish people to do something that to me, makes no sense? That to me, at least for now, is empty?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
The Run-Down
So I woke up at 7am this morning to go to the physical therapist.
I was walking across town on my way there and it was a beautiful morning. A little chilly but not too cold and not too windy. The streets were still relatively calm, people just starting to make their way to work but before the 9am rush. It was lovely, I felt really awake and ready to face the day.
Then physical therapy was just depressing. Although I am pretty happy with the progress I've made the pain is not actually any better. Not any better after the two weeks in the fucking brace from hell. My physical therapist looked worried and she left the room while I was doing electrostimulation to call my doctor about it. She's still convinced that I've got a tear in my ACL or meniscus that's keeping my MCL from healing properly. Her version of the bright side? The other injury may be inoperable, so there's nothing that could have been done anyway.
I'd call that a reach for a best-case scenario.
Now I'm just filled with anxiety. I'm going back to the doctor tomorrow morning, she may want to take another MRI. I just want it to be over. I don't even care about the pain, I just want to know that my knee is going to get better really really soon. That my career isn't permanently handicapped. That I'm not going to have to go through an extremely painful surgery that will take me years to recover from, and have arthritic knees when I'm 30 years old.
This is just a fucking nightmare and the pain makes everything ten times worse. I'm irritable, hyper-sensitive, unmotivated and unproductive, and extremely withdrawn. I really need some comfort and I just have nowhere, nowhere to get it.
And I felt so good this morning! It really makes a person feel utterly defeated. And its not even 10am and I'll be in class or rehearsal literally until 11pm tonight. How am I going to get through this? I already want to burst into tears.
I was walking across town on my way there and it was a beautiful morning. A little chilly but not too cold and not too windy. The streets were still relatively calm, people just starting to make their way to work but before the 9am rush. It was lovely, I felt really awake and ready to face the day.
Then physical therapy was just depressing. Although I am pretty happy with the progress I've made the pain is not actually any better. Not any better after the two weeks in the fucking brace from hell. My physical therapist looked worried and she left the room while I was doing electrostimulation to call my doctor about it. She's still convinced that I've got a tear in my ACL or meniscus that's keeping my MCL from healing properly. Her version of the bright side? The other injury may be inoperable, so there's nothing that could have been done anyway.
I'd call that a reach for a best-case scenario.
Now I'm just filled with anxiety. I'm going back to the doctor tomorrow morning, she may want to take another MRI. I just want it to be over. I don't even care about the pain, I just want to know that my knee is going to get better really really soon. That my career isn't permanently handicapped. That I'm not going to have to go through an extremely painful surgery that will take me years to recover from, and have arthritic knees when I'm 30 years old.
This is just a fucking nightmare and the pain makes everything ten times worse. I'm irritable, hyper-sensitive, unmotivated and unproductive, and extremely withdrawn. I really need some comfort and I just have nowhere, nowhere to get it.
And I felt so good this morning! It really makes a person feel utterly defeated. And its not even 10am and I'll be in class or rehearsal literally until 11pm tonight. How am I going to get through this? I already want to burst into tears.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Dear Weatherman:
Do you ever feel like a hurricane?
Tearing aluminum roofs off in anonymous trailer parks?
You are like a wise and patient meteorologist.
You have a good storm sense.
And I like the way you look.
I’m sorry I rage.
It’s just my nature.
Forgive me?
Tearing aluminum roofs off in anonymous trailer parks?
You are like a wise and patient meteorologist.
You have a good storm sense.
And I like the way you look.
I’m sorry I rage.
It’s just my nature.
Forgive me?
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Meow Meow Meow
So funny story.
You know how I was looking forward to getting my brace off, counting the days, you know, planning all the things I was finally going to be able to do. I was excited.
So turns out, life sans brace = a new level of pain.
I literally cried through all of my exercises. It was awful. And my range of motion is HORRIBLE and I cannot walk normally. I think I forgot how and my body is NOT anxious to remind me. I try to walk normally and my body send a message from my knee to my brain saying, "Whaaaa wait why would you want to do that? It hurts! Absolutely not. No no no. Nope, busy, no."
I got really scared so I called my mom (listen, I'm codependent, its not a crime) and she assured me that it would get better, that she felt the same way, that is was hopeless but it really does get better, and I should go to the YMCA and swim, meow meow meow. And she's right.
I would have done it today but its raining! I don't like walking in the rain. New York City rain is not ok. Seattle rain is nice because its light and clean and smells good. New York City rain is hard and smells horrible and probably has little droplets of incinorated body parts in it or something. Or bed-bugs. Something really disgusting. I got caught in the rain on my way back from a reading I did downtown and I was soaked to the bone, through my clothes and everything. Not anxious to do that again.
Alright well, I'm going to try my exercises. I took a pain killer, hopefully it won't be completely hellish.
You know how I was looking forward to getting my brace off, counting the days, you know, planning all the things I was finally going to be able to do. I was excited.
So turns out, life sans brace = a new level of pain.
I literally cried through all of my exercises. It was awful. And my range of motion is HORRIBLE and I cannot walk normally. I think I forgot how and my body is NOT anxious to remind me. I try to walk normally and my body send a message from my knee to my brain saying, "Whaaaa wait why would you want to do that? It hurts! Absolutely not. No no no. Nope, busy, no."
I got really scared so I called my mom (listen, I'm codependent, its not a crime) and she assured me that it would get better, that she felt the same way, that is was hopeless but it really does get better, and I should go to the YMCA and swim, meow meow meow. And she's right.
I would have done it today but its raining! I don't like walking in the rain. New York City rain is not ok. Seattle rain is nice because its light and clean and smells good. New York City rain is hard and smells horrible and probably has little droplets of incinorated body parts in it or something. Or bed-bugs. Something really disgusting. I got caught in the rain on my way back from a reading I did downtown and I was soaked to the bone, through my clothes and everything. Not anxious to do that again.
Alright well, I'm going to try my exercises. I took a pain killer, hopefully it won't be completely hellish.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Melancholy Tide
I took the plunge and I hit the water hard but it felt so cool and dark and inviting that I swam deeper, knowing it would be heaven to let go. But now the light is fading above my head, and I'm so far down that I don't know which way is up. I'm all alone at the bottom of the sea while he tugs on away across the surface.
Its an uncomfortably familiar feeling. Reminds me of the first time I felt it, six years ago, and each time after. Its just hard to believe I dove in again - even harder to believe I was eager to do it.
A body never learns.
Its an uncomfortably familiar feeling. Reminds me of the first time I felt it, six years ago, and each time after. Its just hard to believe I dove in again - even harder to believe I was eager to do it.
A body never learns.
Monday, October 01, 2007
I Wanna Hold Your Hand
I've been listening to the Across the Universe soundtrack for pretty much 48 hours nonstop. I tried to listen to it while writing my paper, but I mostly sang 'I want to hold you hand' for about 6 hours.
Ok, exaggeration. But I got NOTHING done, which means I'll be working my ass off all night tonight, while Kelsey is here, which sucks. I suck!
Oh well....close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you, remember I'll always be true!
first acting class today with Diane Weast! Excited...wish I wasn't in an enormous leg brace!
Ok, exaggeration. But I got NOTHING done, which means I'll be working my ass off all night tonight, while Kelsey is here, which sucks. I suck!
Oh well....close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you, remember I'll always be true!
first acting class today with Diane Weast! Excited...wish I wasn't in an enormous leg brace!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Block
I've attempted to write an entry several times, and I have such anxiety about things I shouldn't write, or things being too innane/psychotic to write, this is all I can manage, self-consciousness aside:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crunchy (a link wouldn't work, I don't know why)
why have I been feeling like I need to censor myself? Where is that impulse coming from? Why do I get so ashamed of myself and insecure? I feel like I've been knocked off my pedestal and am fighting to get back on top of it.
Strange.
And in case you're thinking, "wow, you see? She's so aware of her issues, so she won't keeping those for long," don't get ahead of yourself. Turns out that being self-aware doesn't make you less neurotic. It makes your neuroses more sophisticated.
I'm a gifted genius when it comes to insecurity.
I'm so advanced!
anyway, you should check that link, I found it while browsing wikipedia (one of my favorite hobbies) and it's hilarious
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crunchy (a link wouldn't work, I don't know why)
why have I been feeling like I need to censor myself? Where is that impulse coming from? Why do I get so ashamed of myself and insecure? I feel like I've been knocked off my pedestal and am fighting to get back on top of it.
Strange.
And in case you're thinking, "wow, you see? She's so aware of her issues, so she won't keeping those for long," don't get ahead of yourself. Turns out that being self-aware doesn't make you less neurotic. It makes your neuroses more sophisticated.
I'm a gifted genius when it comes to insecurity.
I'm so advanced!
anyway, you should check that link, I found it while browsing wikipedia (one of my favorite hobbies) and it's hilarious
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Blink of an eye
Today we got an email from our senior audition teacher. She apologized for being unresponsive to our emails (we're sending her stuff for class) and explained that after class last week she had a message from a State Trooper saying her husband had been involved in a fatal car accident and that he had been killed.
I can't even imagine. One second and your life is one thing and then a split second later your life is torn into pieces so fine you can't make it out anymore. I would lose my mind with grief. Imagine you start your day, you wake up next to your husband of what I assume is many years, you get ready, you say "see you later" and that afternoon some stranger calls and tells you that your husband is gone and you will never see him again and there is nothing you can do and you have to face it.
I really think my mind would crack, I'd probably end up in some psych ward somewhere. God, and I'm sure she has kids too. Jesus Christ.
I don't know why it hit me so hard but I've been feeling really out of it all day. I was just seized with this fear of something horrible happening to someone I love. I could hardly concentrate in class. I couldn't be present at all in vocal tech because I knew I would just cry my eyes out.
My dad got one of those calls. From the State Trooper. When I had my accident. I mean, we weren't dead, but still. I can't imagine. Even my father who "doesn't need emotions" must have been so...scared.
He called me twice today, just to chat. I know I should talk to him but it just feels so staged. I know it would make him feel better, even if it makes me feel worse, I should probably just bite the bullet.
I don't understand that man. I don't understand who he is. I just don't want to be dissapointed over and over again. His potential for good and for evil is bottomless and I don't like sticking my neck out on the chopping block. I mean, can you blame me? That's just basic survival instinct. Why should I offer him unconditional love when I know I won't get it in return? One minute he wants to chat for an hour on the phone about whats going on in my life and the next minute he's provoking my mom to call the police to our house. AGAIN. WHO ARE YOU?!
guh.
Poor Jason, I texted him 5 times tonight to make sure he was driving safely. I'm a nut.
Fucking tuesday...
I can't even imagine. One second and your life is one thing and then a split second later your life is torn into pieces so fine you can't make it out anymore. I would lose my mind with grief. Imagine you start your day, you wake up next to your husband of what I assume is many years, you get ready, you say "see you later" and that afternoon some stranger calls and tells you that your husband is gone and you will never see him again and there is nothing you can do and you have to face it.
I really think my mind would crack, I'd probably end up in some psych ward somewhere. God, and I'm sure she has kids too. Jesus Christ.
I don't know why it hit me so hard but I've been feeling really out of it all day. I was just seized with this fear of something horrible happening to someone I love. I could hardly concentrate in class. I couldn't be present at all in vocal tech because I knew I would just cry my eyes out.
My dad got one of those calls. From the State Trooper. When I had my accident. I mean, we weren't dead, but still. I can't imagine. Even my father who "doesn't need emotions" must have been so...scared.
He called me twice today, just to chat. I know I should talk to him but it just feels so staged. I know it would make him feel better, even if it makes me feel worse, I should probably just bite the bullet.
I don't understand that man. I don't understand who he is. I just don't want to be dissapointed over and over again. His potential for good and for evil is bottomless and I don't like sticking my neck out on the chopping block. I mean, can you blame me? That's just basic survival instinct. Why should I offer him unconditional love when I know I won't get it in return? One minute he wants to chat for an hour on the phone about whats going on in my life and the next minute he's provoking my mom to call the police to our house. AGAIN. WHO ARE YOU?!
guh.
Poor Jason, I texted him 5 times tonight to make sure he was driving safely. I'm a nut.
Fucking tuesday...
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Sweet Home _______
fill in the blank, please.
I only thought of that because today I was exhausted when I finally slumped home at about 6:30pm. So upon arrival I was debated whether or not I should suck it up and take a nap and I decided I didn't have time to take a nap. So I turned on the tv thinking I would at least give my mind a snooze without giving in my whole body, but apparently my body disagreed, because about 10 minutes into Sweet Home Alabama I was out like a light on the couch. I woke up two hours later, sooooo sore.
My whole body hurts.
Physical therapy sucked today. I'm tired of being in pain and not being able to run and jump and work out. I'm getting fat, it makes me sick. So then I eat two candy bars to make myself feel better.
But seriously, I'm realizing that there is no way to get through this recovery without tempting a flare-up of my Achilles tendonitis and this whole thing is just spiraling out of control. My knee isn't ANY better, I'm getting the name of an orthapedist (who the fuck knows how to spell that word) to see exactly whats going on. The rest of me is still sore from sunday because I'm so out of shape.
I'm still sleepy. I'm so sleepy I'm almost a little nauseous. Does that ever happen to you?
I had a nice time in drawing today, for a change. I got to play with ink. Ink is fun. And is now all over my entire arms and hands. I have a special talent for making messes.
I read a great play by a playwright who I know (sort of know) tonight and I was relieved because it was REALLY good and hilarious and creepy because you're so disturbed and amused at the same time. I love theater.
I feel a little crazy right now. I feel a little...untethered.
hmmmmmmmmmmm maybe I'll go lookin for trouble
I only thought of that because today I was exhausted when I finally slumped home at about 6:30pm. So upon arrival I was debated whether or not I should suck it up and take a nap and I decided I didn't have time to take a nap. So I turned on the tv thinking I would at least give my mind a snooze without giving in my whole body, but apparently my body disagreed, because about 10 minutes into Sweet Home Alabama I was out like a light on the couch. I woke up two hours later, sooooo sore.
My whole body hurts.
Physical therapy sucked today. I'm tired of being in pain and not being able to run and jump and work out. I'm getting fat, it makes me sick. So then I eat two candy bars to make myself feel better.
But seriously, I'm realizing that there is no way to get through this recovery without tempting a flare-up of my Achilles tendonitis and this whole thing is just spiraling out of control. My knee isn't ANY better, I'm getting the name of an orthapedist (who the fuck knows how to spell that word) to see exactly whats going on. The rest of me is still sore from sunday because I'm so out of shape.
I'm still sleepy. I'm so sleepy I'm almost a little nauseous. Does that ever happen to you?
I had a nice time in drawing today, for a change. I got to play with ink. Ink is fun. And is now all over my entire arms and hands. I have a special talent for making messes.
I read a great play by a playwright who I know (sort of know) tonight and I was relieved because it was REALLY good and hilarious and creepy because you're so disturbed and amused at the same time. I love theater.
I feel a little crazy right now. I feel a little...untethered.
hmmmmmmmmmmm maybe I'll go lookin for trouble
Monday, September 17, 2007
Case of the Mondays...
ugh, today is a disgusting awful day.
i felt it the moment i woke up, after i hit snooze 23 times, although i was cheerful.
i should have known, as soon as i burned my pancake - always an omen of bad things to come.
My whole body hurts, the weather is awful, they were all out of thumbtacks at CVS.
i have tons of drawings due tomorrow, none of which are finished, and I have to be up at 7:30 am to start my day.
Oh awful awful awful.
Mostly awful because I don't feel myself, I feel irritable and petty. I was selfish this morning on the phone, with the one person i never want to be selfish with, i couldn't snap out of it, i was getting sort of...i don't know, all tied up inside. And then i was so distracted by worrying about what he would think of that behavior that i could hardly concentrate in class. All I kept thinking was, "this would be easier to sort out in person" but of course if we could sort it out in person than the whole problem wouldn't exist and everything would be blissful.
I talked to an old friend of mine this weekend and he asked me about my love life and he laughed. "nothing simple for you, huh?"
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!
Christ.
i felt it the moment i woke up, after i hit snooze 23 times, although i was cheerful.
i should have known, as soon as i burned my pancake - always an omen of bad things to come.
My whole body hurts, the weather is awful, they were all out of thumbtacks at CVS.
i have tons of drawings due tomorrow, none of which are finished, and I have to be up at 7:30 am to start my day.
Oh awful awful awful.
Mostly awful because I don't feel myself, I feel irritable and petty. I was selfish this morning on the phone, with the one person i never want to be selfish with, i couldn't snap out of it, i was getting sort of...i don't know, all tied up inside. And then i was so distracted by worrying about what he would think of that behavior that i could hardly concentrate in class. All I kept thinking was, "this would be easier to sort out in person" but of course if we could sort it out in person than the whole problem wouldn't exist and everything would be blissful.
I talked to an old friend of mine this weekend and he asked me about my love life and he laughed. "nothing simple for you, huh?"
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!
Christ.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Learning Curve
Last night was horrible.
And I felt horribly selfish and blind which made me feel even worse. I just finally worked myself up so much that I felt sick and went to bed. I know I should be grateful and I know everything happens for a reason and blah blah blah but GOD why do I seem to be always having these lessons forced down my throat. If something, anything, could just come easily to me - that would be great.
Well that's an exaggeration. Some lovely things do come easily to me, things that mean more to me than any project (you know who you are) but even those things come with strings attached and stipulations and take a lot of strength and courage and faith. I'm just feeling very blighted right now. Is that a word? Well it is now.
I'm feeling sorry for myself, basically. I know I do that a lot.
It just digs into me, you know? It gets under your skin, time after time, never getting exactly what you strive for. You start to falter and doubt and resent which makes it even harder, increasingly harder each time. To think positive and to believe.
And I know in my heart that I would have been so GOOD.
But I suppose this role gives me a chance I haven't had in quite sometime, in that I will be able to completely transform myself into something completely different. I mean my character isn't even earthly, so you know. It will be interesting. I'll probably learn a lot. But I'm still kicking myself. And I still wonder what might have happened if I hadn't auditioned for the second show.
I'm just...GUH...dissapointed again. Seems to be a common theme.
Luckily I have people in my life who I am convinced can see me through anything. Not very many but a few choice people. And Feathers.
And I felt horribly selfish and blind which made me feel even worse. I just finally worked myself up so much that I felt sick and went to bed. I know I should be grateful and I know everything happens for a reason and blah blah blah but GOD why do I seem to be always having these lessons forced down my throat. If something, anything, could just come easily to me - that would be great.
Well that's an exaggeration. Some lovely things do come easily to me, things that mean more to me than any project (you know who you are) but even those things come with strings attached and stipulations and take a lot of strength and courage and faith. I'm just feeling very blighted right now. Is that a word? Well it is now.
I'm feeling sorry for myself, basically. I know I do that a lot.
It just digs into me, you know? It gets under your skin, time after time, never getting exactly what you strive for. You start to falter and doubt and resent which makes it even harder, increasingly harder each time. To think positive and to believe.
And I know in my heart that I would have been so GOOD.
But I suppose this role gives me a chance I haven't had in quite sometime, in that I will be able to completely transform myself into something completely different. I mean my character isn't even earthly, so you know. It will be interesting. I'll probably learn a lot. But I'm still kicking myself. And I still wonder what might have happened if I hadn't auditioned for the second show.
I'm just...GUH...dissapointed again. Seems to be a common theme.
Luckily I have people in my life who I am convinced can see me through anything. Not very many but a few choice people. And Feathers.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Fuck Fuck Fuck
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
FUCK!
I got a letter from Clipper Navigations Inc. kindly informing me that due to the cancelled boat to the San Juan Islands, I had rescheduled a party of 2 to Victoria instead and then forgotten to cancel their previously booked hotel in the San Juans. So they're deducting $185 dollars from my commission check.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK dhfsjhfjksdhjkflhui3y4uigfufgehjvbdhcvbhjevfhjvfejgedhjfgeiuyeghfjd
I need a job really soon. How the fuck am I going to do this.
FUCK!
I got a letter from Clipper Navigations Inc. kindly informing me that due to the cancelled boat to the San Juan Islands, I had rescheduled a party of 2 to Victoria instead and then forgotten to cancel their previously booked hotel in the San Juans. So they're deducting $185 dollars from my commission check.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK dhfsjhfjksdhjkflhui3y4uigfufgehjvbdhcvbhjevfhjvfejgedhjfgeiuyeghfjd
I need a job really soon. How the fuck am I going to do this.
Thick Skin
I just downloaded Sara Bareilles' album Little Voice, you should do the same.
Some things get easier every day and some things just get harder.
One thing I forgot about being at school is how alone it feels sometimes. My close friends are so busy and I often end up feeling like there's no one really REAL out there to connect to. That's the problem with being an artist, particularly in theater, is that people are sometimes so fake. I mean, they're entertaining as fuck, but they are just so...caught up with appearing a certain way, maybe because they feel so vulnerable, I don't know. I just feel very alienated.
I would love to go and see Meg or go out to Queens maybe, but I can't go anywhere. Unless I can afford cabfare which, let me cut the suspense, I can't.
I'm too tired to worry about money. I'm just exhausted all the time. Standing up for 20 minutes completely wipes me out, and I keep pushing myself too hard so that when I lay down at night I'm in too much pain. I've been putting off some of the treatment that my naturopath gave me, I don't know why. I just...is it going to make it any better? No. I'm still not going to be able to walk, I'm still going to be unable to make around and get myself a glass of water or walk to the grocery store and cook something. I just feel paralyzed and so its hard to really care about anything.
I know I told Jason to have hope and courage to see through the pain and I realize I'm being a huge hypocrite...sigh...no I mean I do have hope - in a month, I'll be walking fine, but for now I just feel completely helpless. And I hate hate hate it. I just want to cry every time I want to take out the trash, or set up all the kitchen stuff, or do any number of things that I can't really do.
And I suppose I saw it coming but no one can help me by going up to Harlem and supervising the movers tomorrow, so I'm gonna have to take a cab up there and then take a cab back and do all of it myself. I'm hoping it goes fine. We'll see. I mean I don't really have a choice at this point.
I miss Jason, so much. He gives me some kind of courage I just can't get anywhere else. Its hard to summon that feeling from 3000 miles away but I guess I'll have to try for a while. That's the only thing that got me up to 93rd street the other day to get my wheelchair.
I'm just dreading tomorrow. I shouldn't, I should be positive.
It'll be fine. It'll be great. I'll have all my stuff and I will be able to sleep on my own sheets and comfy bed. That will be nice. Ok. I can do this.
Some things get easier every day and some things just get harder.
One thing I forgot about being at school is how alone it feels sometimes. My close friends are so busy and I often end up feeling like there's no one really REAL out there to connect to. That's the problem with being an artist, particularly in theater, is that people are sometimes so fake. I mean, they're entertaining as fuck, but they are just so...caught up with appearing a certain way, maybe because they feel so vulnerable, I don't know. I just feel very alienated.
I would love to go and see Meg or go out to Queens maybe, but I can't go anywhere. Unless I can afford cabfare which, let me cut the suspense, I can't.
I'm too tired to worry about money. I'm just exhausted all the time. Standing up for 20 minutes completely wipes me out, and I keep pushing myself too hard so that when I lay down at night I'm in too much pain. I've been putting off some of the treatment that my naturopath gave me, I don't know why. I just...is it going to make it any better? No. I'm still not going to be able to walk, I'm still going to be unable to make around and get myself a glass of water or walk to the grocery store and cook something. I just feel paralyzed and so its hard to really care about anything.
I know I told Jason to have hope and courage to see through the pain and I realize I'm being a huge hypocrite...sigh...no I mean I do have hope - in a month, I'll be walking fine, but for now I just feel completely helpless. And I hate hate hate it. I just want to cry every time I want to take out the trash, or set up all the kitchen stuff, or do any number of things that I can't really do.
And I suppose I saw it coming but no one can help me by going up to Harlem and supervising the movers tomorrow, so I'm gonna have to take a cab up there and then take a cab back and do all of it myself. I'm hoping it goes fine. We'll see. I mean I don't really have a choice at this point.
I miss Jason, so much. He gives me some kind of courage I just can't get anywhere else. Its hard to summon that feeling from 3000 miles away but I guess I'll have to try for a while. That's the only thing that got me up to 93rd street the other day to get my wheelchair.
I'm just dreading tomorrow. I shouldn't, I should be positive.
It'll be fine. It'll be great. I'll have all my stuff and I will be able to sleep on my own sheets and comfy bed. That will be nice. Ok. I can do this.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
the pain drain
I woke up this morning in a lot of pain again, and it struck me, maybe for the first time, how really helpless I am. I can't do shit, and I have no idea how I am going to have any semblance of a normal life.
I mean, here I am with a full day in new york city before I can move my stuff in (yeah, no idea how I'm going to do that either) and I can't do ANYTHING. I can't go to the grocery store, I can't even go to the mail room. All I can do is sit on the fucking bed and read or watch television. Its pathetic, I feel awful. I really really hate this. I hate having to ask people for help for every tiny thing. I hate being dependent on the caprice of others, because I know that I'm gonna end up stuck most of the time. I fucking hate hate hate this.
To top it all off, most of my stuff is in storage, which I have somehow got to get out on saturday. Which is fine, because we hired some extra movers to basically do it all for me, BUT someone has to go up to Harlem and "supervise" them. I can't go, needless to say, so I have to find somebody who will. And I don't know a single person who is willing to do it. I don't know what I am going to do. I'm not sure I'm even gonna be able to supervise them on this end, I really can't walk on my crutches for very long without getting really really tired.
Sorry about the self-pity fest, I know I should be happy that I'm alive and that it could have been much worse. But its still a nightmare.
I mean, here I am with a full day in new york city before I can move my stuff in (yeah, no idea how I'm going to do that either) and I can't do ANYTHING. I can't go to the grocery store, I can't even go to the mail room. All I can do is sit on the fucking bed and read or watch television. Its pathetic, I feel awful. I really really hate this. I hate having to ask people for help for every tiny thing. I hate being dependent on the caprice of others, because I know that I'm gonna end up stuck most of the time. I fucking hate hate hate this.
To top it all off, most of my stuff is in storage, which I have somehow got to get out on saturday. Which is fine, because we hired some extra movers to basically do it all for me, BUT someone has to go up to Harlem and "supervise" them. I can't go, needless to say, so I have to find somebody who will. And I don't know a single person who is willing to do it. I don't know what I am going to do. I'm not sure I'm even gonna be able to supervise them on this end, I really can't walk on my crutches for very long without getting really really tired.
Sorry about the self-pity fest, I know I should be happy that I'm alive and that it could have been much worse. But its still a nightmare.
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