A life in words

Fuck-a-doodle-doo

Another holiday, another pregnancy.

I swear to God my cousins are in a race to see who can pop out the most kids by the year 2020.

Here’s the situation- Samantha and Tabitha are sisters (T is older by 5 years or something). S got pregnant while still in high school. T got married and had a kid, around the time that S had hers. Both had girls. Then, T gets pregnant again and has a boy. Then, S has a boy almost a year later. Now, T is having a baby next month (don’t know the gender yet, as no one in this state tells my branch of the family tree anything). S is having a baby in June.

We went to my grandma’s for Easter lunch. I took one look at S and hoped I wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. One text to my cousin in Iowa later, and I had my answer. 7 months. S is 7 months pregnant, and this is the first we’ve heard of it (not that I’m surprised that we haven’t been told. I just… I have no idea why this is happening again). So, next time we go to my grandma’s house (probably Thanksgiving), there will be one more screaming child there for me to scowl at and for the rest of us to pretend has been there the whole time. Awesome.

Maybe she’s always wanted a big family. Maybe she’s happy having 3 kids before she’s 22. I mean, who knows, maybe she’s looking at me, judging, thinking ‘I can’t believe you’re 20 and have no kids. You’re continuing your education? Lame. You’re moving on with your life to get out of this town? Stupid. You don’t make the rest of your cousins think you’re white trash? Irresponsible.’ Who knows.

In other news, yes. I have officially left my teenage years behind. Twenty is the new me. I feel kind of old… the 90s were 20 years ago. How did that happen? On my birthday, my dad said “All I can say is that these past 20 years have gone by really fast.” I guess if I really think about it, they HAVE gone by really fast.

A lot can happen in 20 years. I’ve made friends, lost friends, made myself into the person I am today. Sure, some days are not the best. Some days, I’m downright horrible. But I am me. And that’s all I can ask for at this point.

August is coming. That’s when I transfer to university. It’s kind of scary to think that I’ll be living kind of on my own, away from everything that I’ve known for 20 years. But it’ll be good for me. I’ll get a taste of something new, something different. And I know that when it gets to be too much, my friends will still be there to help me through things.

We perform in 12 days. We’ll see if I’m going to have to do my first stage-kiss or not. The show works fine without it. But sometimes, directors want more. I’m willing to give it, because it’ll help me grow as an actress. But until they flat out say “Now kiss”, my lips are going nowhere near his. It’s hard to believe it’s my last performance with this group of friends I’ve made over the past 3 semesters. I’m going to miss all of them (with the exception of a few who I want to bury under the stage). I’m probably going to be a mess on the second/last night (but then again, I usually am a mess before performances).

So there was this guy… and long story short, we’ve decided to be friends. And friendship is better than being completely awkward around each other, never speaking again. I am fine with being friends, because I really do like his friendship. Besides, I’m going off to college soon, and I’m not sure how well ‘long-distance’ would work. And I don’t have to worry about pretty-ing myself up when I’m going to see him. So it’s really a load off my shoulders. Yes… as long as he and I are friends, I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Yes, I am completely aware of how jumpy this post was. Do I really care? No. I had a lot to say, and my train of thought doesn’t take the most logical route. So suck it bitch.

You Said…

…that you’d give your life for me.

That means a hell of a lot to me.

And I’m sorry.

Her Name is Alice

…And it’s me :)

So, the fiance isn’t the first choice I had. But he wasn’t the last, so everything’s looking up.

For once, Valentine’s Day has brought about good feelings and happiness. Weird.

Appreciation

I know I’ve bitched about theater a lot. Here’s one more go at it.

The drama class this semester has around 20 people. In my opinion, that’s way too many. Maybe that’s because I don’t like new people. Maybe it’s because I’m subconsciously frightened that I’ll be out-shown, which will make it seem like I’m really not that good at what I’m doing.

We have yet to choose a play. Granted, the semester just started. The first few scripts we read were for one-act shows. A friend of mine and I have suggested two full-length shows, and our teacher ordered the scripts for them for us to read this coming week. With a larger cast, one-acts make more sense. When performing, full-length shows are more interesting. There’s more character development, more story line.

Since my major is theater education, when I transfer I’ll be focusing on directing and teaching. Therefore, I feel like my last semester is my last chance for me to have a leading role.

I know my teacher knows what I’m capable of doing. But I’m afraid she’ll think that since I’ll be transferring next semester, I should direct this semester, to get some experience. She said if we ended up doing one-acts, I would direct one of them. I’d be fine with that. But for a full-length show? I don’t want to sound like a diva or anything, but I feel like I deserve a chance to be lead. I was a lead in a one-act last year, and last semester our teacher kept saying I was one of her three leads, but I wasn’t in act 2 until the very end.

All of my friends I’ve talked to have told me they, too, believe that I deserve a chance at a lead in a full-length show. In the show that my friend suggested, the female lead is off enough that I could easily direct and lead.

I just don’t want to get shoved aside because of my major. I want a chance to lead, and I think DACC is my last chance for that. I don’t want to get stuck with a 3-line part and then have to sit in the audience for the rest of practice, watching the others having fun. A few of the other students have been student directors before, and they’ve both told me that when you’re a student director, you don’t do shit. You sit in the audience, watch the show over and over, and give minor directions, like “speak louder,” or “move slightly to the left”. I don’t want that. I want my last semester (possibly my last college show, or last show for a while) to be fun. I want my chance in the spotlight.

Sure, there’ll be community theaters around where I can audition and join casts and enjoy myself. I’m all for community theater. But I was in a show my senior year of high school, then I won a Katy (an award the theater gives out every year, kind of like Oscars or Academy Awards). That was my first ‘adult’ show at the community theater where I’d gotten my start with children’s theater. My first show, and I won ‘Best Supporting Actress’. I feel like I’ve reached my peak.

So maybe this post is just a diva complaining about things no one wants to hear. Maybe she should get her head out of her ass and accept whatever role, directing or acting, her teacher gives her. Maybe she should come to terms with this, as this is what her future career is going to be. But maybe… maybe she just needed to vent. Maybe you shouldn’t have read this, if you were going to have so many problems with it. Maybe you’ll forget you ever read this as soon as you exit out of this page.

Happy, Briar? I finally made a new post.

Christmas Reflections.

My uncle gave me a card yesterday in honor of Christmas. Inside was some money, and a small hand-written note. “Keep doing well with your dreams”.

My uncle’s had a hard life. He has 5 kids. One of them is severely disabled. The one closest to me in age went to jail for drugs. The four of the five who are able to have kids do. Only one of them waited until marriage. The other three had kids in high school. I’m pretty sure two of them dropped out. The other one, the one closest to my age, finished high school, but didn’t continue on to college. She does work full time with two different jobs, but she has two kids under the age of five to feed. I’ve never met the wonderful guy who knocked her up, but I’ve heard stories from my other cousin who lives in Iowa that he’s abusive, which doesn’t really surprise me.

My family doesn’t hear anything about her unless it’s from people who live in other states. That’s just the way things work in my family. News travels to Colorado before it travels 15 blocks away.

I think my uncle likes to think of me as his adopted daughter. The one who’s doing the best she can with her life. Good grades, a plan for the future, no kids before the age of 20. He’s come to see me in some of my plays, and he always has good things to say after the performances. “Keep doing well with your dreams.” I know he’s proud of me and what I’ve done so far. But reading that short little note made me tear up. I know he’ll be proud of me with whatever career I end up having (he once talked to me about being in charge with a dolphin show and having one of the dolphins paint a shirt for the cousin who’s disabled). And I want to make him proud. I guess I want to live up to the standards he’s set for me. I’m not trying to outshine his own kids (well, let’s be honest— he’s probably only proud of the one who’s married and can stand on her own two feet, with a loving husband and two kids, with a third on the way).

Speaking of the third kid on the way, both the eldest and the one closest to my age have two kids. First a girl, then a boy. Now that the oldest is pregnant again, I can’t help but think the other one will try to out-do her sister and get knocked up again. Is that a bad outlook on life?

Anyway, Christmas was nice. I got a laptop and a new phone, which is what I wanted. I still have some gifts to give to my friends, and my cousin from Iowa. They’re coming to town tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see her. She’s my favorite of all my cousins. Christmas ended with me throwing up. Not the best ending to a holiday, but I feel better today. I’m pretty sure I could go the rest of my life without doing that again. On the bright side, I think my parents will let me lounge around the house today. Usually, I hate being treated like I’m fragile, but right now I could care less.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

I can finally relax.

Finals week was stressful. Due to a computer malfunction, I was determined that I had just failed a class, therefore, I would have to retake it, which meant that my whole schedule for next semester was screwed, and my life was pretty much ruined. But then my teacher was actually human, and reset the final for me, allowing me to take it fully and get an 84%. Hallelujah.

Then, my testing still wasn’t over. Due to the fact that I want to be a drama teacher, and am looking strongly at going to a university in Illinois, I had to take a ‘basic skills’ test, covering English, grammar, math, and writing. Because we didn’t cover all those things in high school, especially on the dreaded ACT. Therefore, I had to go two hours away from my home, in order to take a test at 8 a.m. I’m just glad that my family decided to go down the day before so we didn’t have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn.

But all that’s over now. Thank God. I just got my grades from this semester. 3 A’s and 2 B’s. I’m perfectly fine with that. I got accepted to both of the universities I applied to. Some of my friends are home from their colleges. My Christmas shopping is done, and my friends seem to have liked their gifts so far.That means a lot to me. I put a lot of thought into what to get or make my friends (for the most part). When they like the gifts, that makes me feel like I really know who my friends are and what they’d really like. I feel that giving can be better than receiving. When you give someone a gift, there’s that moment where they’re unwrapping it and you have a secret to yourself. You know what the gift is, and they’re about to find out. It’s like a slight adrenaline rush. Or is that just me?

A few days ago, a friend of mine and I were talking. She asked me “Have you thought about seeing anyone?” What the hell kind of question is that? Of COURSE I’ve thought about seeing someone. I’d LOVE to be seeing someone. I could understand that question if I had just gotten out of a bad relationship. But I’ve never been in a legit relationship. My lack of a love life is due in part to the fact that I’m attracted to gay guys. My friends call it my ‘super power’- if I like a guy, he’ll probably end up being gay. It really sucks. Another reason I’m not the typical teenager who’s had their heart broken is the fact that I don’t do anything. I’m not a fan of rejection, so I never put myself out there. I don’t like being vulnerable. I keep all my feelings to myself. People always tell me that I should make the move, tell the guy I like him, and magic things will happen. Bullshit. I’m not the girl who does that. I’m the girl who hides in the shadows, wishing things would happen. I know this isn’t a way to live, but that’s all I’ve ever done for 19 years.

I keep thinking about how ‘magical’ it would be if the guy I liked asked me out on Christmas, or New Years, or Valentine’s Day, or my birthday. I know, it’s incredibly cliched. But I can’t help it. I know Hollywood makes that shit up to make girls swoon. I’m not the swooning type. And I feel like if someone DID ask me out on one of those days, once I got over the initial shock, I’d probably be pissed they chose such a cliched day. That’s another problem with me- my brain tells me one thing, my heart tells me another. It’s all one big mess over here.

Somehow, this post about Christmas turned into a rant about love (or rather, my lack thereof). Oh well. Shit happens. Happy Christmas, or what ever holiday you celebrate.

I can kill you with my brain.

I think my brain hates me.

First, it makes me scared to tell someone something. It’s not even that big of a deal. It’s my life…. I can make my own decisions. But I feel that I’m letting this person down if I make the decision.

Then, in the middle of class, it makes me have a ‘vision’ so to speak of me transferring, never meeting anyone, never dating anyone, and dying alone. As if class wasn’t depressing enough.

While Christmas shopping, I saw a pregnant woman. I got the urge to punch her in the stomach. No idea why or where that urge came from. I didn’t act on it.

Today I started thinking about a girl I used to be friends with, back in high school. We were really close our freshman and sophomore year. But then she became a bitch. Or maybe we just decided to take our own paths in life. But I’m going to go with the first option.

A guy just came in wanting to fax something. Of course. Why am I surprised?

One good thing my brain did for me was let me stay sane during my giant-ass paper and environment project. Sanity should never be taken for granted.

Finals are next week. That means this semester really is coming to a close. Which means in a few short months, I have to move on in my life. I have to leave the comfort of the town I’ve lived in for almost 20 years to make my way in the big, scary world. Sure, there are days when I’m ready to get the fuck out of my hometown. But having to actually move, to finish my education, to get a job, to start my life is a frightening prospect.

I worry about my friends. Some of them aren’t doing so well in the academic department. I want them to succeed in life, to move on from here. But I can’t force them to do things. And I understand that times are hard. Times tend to get harder without an education. But that’s another rant. I suppose the best thing I can do for them is to let them know I love them, and know they’ll succeed when the time comes. After all, I can’t really baby my friends. They’re all grown- they know the steps they need to take. I’ve done my part. Now all I have to do is support them, and hope they do the same for me.

To perform is to live (part 2).

The play is over.

It still seems surreal that I don’t have to remember those lines anymore.

I’m glad I did a show such as ‘Sense & Sensibility’. It was the hardest show I’ve ever done, and now that it’s over, I can appreciate it.

The memories of this show will last a lifetime. I opened myself up so much during this show. By opening up, I was a happier person. No, not was. Am.

Sure, I still have my down days (had one just yesterday, in fact). But on the whole, life is better.

Our teacher gave us each individual reviews, along with the letter grade ‘A’. Mine had high praises, and the last line made me tear up. She said that I’ll “direct great plays in the future” and that she wanted me to invite her to them.

I’m not sure if people’s expectations and praise like that makes me feel good or scared. Sure, the praise is wonderful, and helps me realize that maybe, just maybe, I am good at what I love. But the fear of disappointing those people can be staggering. Just imagining the disappointment in their eyes when you tell them ‘I didn’t make it’ or ‘I couldn’t do it’ is enough to cripple me.

I surprised everyone (myself included) by how much I opened myself. In fact, one of the teachers told another student he couldn’t believe how much I’d changed in three semesters. My first semester at DACC, I was the quiet, sheltered type. This semester was…. not a complete 180, but more like a….. 140. I’m getting to be more comfortable with myself and those around me. I can only hope this feeling will continue to grow, and will stay with me when I transfer from DACC and move on with my life.

I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with myself until January, when the class gets back together…. I honestly do believe that acting and performing is my life. Sure, I’ll stay busy with papers and projects (after all, finals are soon approaching) and friends and family (as are the holidays). But there will still be an empty spot in my heart (hoorah for melodramatics). I have no doubts that Briar will not let me rest during Christmas break… he’ll probably camp out in my living room for those two to three weeks….

Briar, you thanked me in your last post, and I wish to give you the same thanks. You really did help me out of my funk. I guess that’s what brothers are for. And I hope you know…. even though I may be a bitch sometimes (and you, a dick), and even though I have shit going on in my life and may not be able to hang out, I do care for you, and I love you like the brother I never had. And I do want you to know…. it meant a lot to me that you came to the play (and helped me with my lines beforehand). I really mean that.

To perform is to live.

My friend just alerted me to the fact that the play is in 36 hours. Not sure if that sounds better than ‘tomorrow’ or not. Some of the other cast members have told me that they’re starting to stress. I just keep composed, tell them everything will be fine, and they’ll do a great job.

If only I could convince myself that I can do that. I’ll probably end up having a breakdown right before the show tomorrow. It’s happened before. But every time it has, we’ve had a great show afterward… maybe I should breakdown….

All of a sudden, I’m finding out how much shit I have to do before the end of the semester. Granted, I’ll have a little more free time after the show, but I’m still feeling overwhelmed. I have all these intense papers due, and a project that I really don’t have any idea on what I’m going to do. We have to do something about a renewable energy source or something, with a model and a PowerPoint. I hate my environment class.

Sometimes I wish I could just say “Fuck it” and not care. I wish I could be a slacker. I wish I could get through life. Unfortunately, I was raised in a household with two ‘loving’ parents who push me to do my best, even if my best comes after my breaking point. They don’t take failure, and I’m never sure if they’re proud of me. When I complain about the tiniest thing, my mom always says “You don’t know how good you’ve got it”. Thanks, ma. Add guilt to my depression, stress, and anger. That’s exactly what a healthy, normally functioning teenager needs.

Someone just came into the library to send a fax. I fucking hate the fax machine. Every time I touch it, something goes wrong.

I’ve submitted my applications to the two colleges I’m interested in. I can only hope I get accepted to at least one of them. I’m nervous about the future… but I still want it to come. I really hope to get into ISU. The school is really nice, and I really liked the ‘vibe’ from campus. I really want to find out if I get accepted to either of the colleges, because I want to put ‘Lauren is transferring to…’ in my bio in next semester’s program for the play.

This semester I’ve opened up a lot. I thank my friends who have helped me with that. I’ve said some things backstage this semester that I would never have dreamed of saying out loud last year. I’ve gotten so close with so many of the people in this acting class. I, as well as they, can tell that I’m happier this semester. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like next semester, having real friends in that class. And I can’t imagine how sad I’ll be when I leave them (and my other friends in my hometown as well).

Be the Master of Your Field.

I wish I was really smart in one area.

If I ever have a technology question, I ask my friend. A car question, I ask another friend. A question about life in general, a third friend.

I wish I had a certain field where I knew a lot of things. My friends would have a question about it, they could turn to me, and I could answer it. Sure, I know a lot of things. But for some reason, I still want to be ‘The girl that knows everything about ____’.

True, I know a lot about movie and television actors. I tend to use their names in daily conversation. People look at me like ‘Who the hell are you talking about?’ and then I have to explain what they’re in. Sometimes the person understands. Usually, they don’t.

Today I’m going to register for my last semester of classes at community college. Then, it’s off to fill out applications to universities. From there, I transfer to said university (fingers crossed I get accepted). Then it’s off to find a job. Get paid, get married, get pregnant, get happy. It’s the job part that worries me. And the marriage part. But first things first. My field is somewhat limited. Who knows how many schools will still have art programs within their districts when I graduate from university?

Maybe I should be a movie critic. I like to write, and I enjoy watching movies. But I’m probably too opinionated for that. Or is it better to have opinions in that field? I could never review a Twilight movie, though. Stupid sparkly vampires.

I could be a tabloid writer. Doing interviews with famous people, perhaps going on-set to get backstage information. That would be a classy job, right?

But maybe that’s what would make me happy. Does happiness have to spawn from classiness?

I’m currently employed at my college’s library. This is the second school library I’ve worked at. Is that my calling? I could always turn into Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That would be fine. I’d love to be a British man. And that show had legit vamps. No sparkles there.

Or maybe I could be a screenwriter. That would be fun. Creating plots, writing sarcastic dialogue, killing characters. All in a day’s work. It’s creative and would get me in touch with some stars.

Only time will tell where I’ll end up. I hope for Hollywood; I’ll probably end up in North Dakota or something. I suppose all in all, the location isn’t the big thing. The thing to shoot for is happiness.