"No. No self pity. I won't have it."
~The Miracle Worker.

I'm in this constant battle of just trying to be who I am, not push the parts of me aside that give me a hard time. But when I try to do that, and I have to face the parts of me that I loathe, it's very difficult not to run to those things that I use to just run over my problems. Oh, why can't I just let myself cry a good cry once in a while? Why do I fear being sad so much? Is it really that bad?
I wish I could convince myself that there is beauty in the valleys that I face. That sometimes it's good to be on a low. It's just that my highs are so high and my lows are so low. Sometimes I have a low and a high in the same day. Like today. And it's not even noon yet.
No, no self pity. I won't have it.

"Savior while my heart is tender I would yeild that heart to thee
All my powers to thee surrender, thine and only thine to be.
Take me now Lord Jesus, take me, let my heart be ever thine
Thy devoted servent make me, fill my soul with love divine.

Send me Lord where thou wilt send me, only do thou guide my way
May thy grace through life attend me, gladly then shall I obey.
Let me do thy will or bear it, I would know no will but thine
Shouldst thou take my life or spare it, I that life to thee resign.

May this solemn consecration never once forgotten be;
Let it know no revocation, registered, confirmed by thee.
Thine I am, Oh Lord, forever, to thy service set apart
Suffer me to leave thee never. Seal thine image on my heart."


I don't know why some things happen the way they do. But when I think about where I am, and where I was, I can see that my faith is stronger because of those things. Maybe it's because those things make me sing that song.

Today I went to a meeting about this workshop we're having in the theater dept. This agent is coming in and looking at monologues. "Treat it like the most important audition of your life" was the main message. But then a Professor got up and told us that "the actor's life is an audition." We have to treat our entire life like we're trying to impress people because it's who, not what you know.

Well ya know what? A believer's life is NEVER an audition.

"When you've got nothin', you've got nothin' to lose. You're invisible now, you have no secrets to conceal." (Bob Dylan)

Lately I've noticed that I've been bolder about my faith. A girl in the play's cast told me today "There are sometimes when I really think I want to believe in Jesus and salvation, but I think about it and I try real hard, but I can't." And I said to her "I know I can't believe in Jesus. I need Him to help me." And she said "Yeah, I guess God could probably help me out with that." Goodness.

And the other day I told another girl about how I came to know him in the first place, my senior year in high school. Funny, that I have all this faith all of the sudden. I can't help but wonder if it's because I'm dealing with rejection. And wouldn't that be just like God, and his law of resurrection in a dead world.

"You gotta lose. You gotta learn how to die, if you wanna wanna be alive" (Wilco)

Lately I've been having issues with loving and getting close to people. I want to sing "I am a rock, I am an island" and just kind of hide away in my room with my computer and write stories about New Orleans. "I have my books, and my poetry to protect me".

But something I've come to terms with is that Jesus took a big risk in order for me to know that He loves me. He died for me. Honestly, that's just too profound for me to really grasp, but I'm starting to see it. Loving people takes risk--it means you are vulnerable and the more you love someone the more it hurts when they reject you. But if you think about it, Jesus loves us more than we could ever fathom, and we reject him all the time. He knows what it is to suffer for love. The reason he had to be crucified was because we rejected him. But he still went through with it, and we still sin against him and reject him. These are some of the things that Christians have to be reminded of again and again.

I'm tired of trying to protect myself from Love. I think that if you hurt because you love someone, you know what it's like to be Jesus, a bit. And what else is there to want?

When life throws you a lemon, make lemonade.

I need to learn how to think positively. I never really learned that before. To push away dispairing thoughts and force myself to look at the brightside. To be thankful.

Sometimes we reach a point in our lives where it's real easy to slip into self pity, to say "I'm lonely and always will be;" to say "nothing ever goes right for me, and it probably never will go right. I'm a magnet of bad circumstances." But I'm trying to remember that, one, those are lies, and two, those thoughts are a waste of time. Worrying, regret, and self-pity are such wastes of time. And they are damaging.

Yes, I'm following Jesus, even though the track record for circumstances is pretty low in some areas of my life. But I tell myself, "Yep. It would be nice if Jesus said that following him meant good times from here on out. But he didn't say that." No, He didn't say that. He said something far more puzzling. "You will have hard times. And you will be blessed when you do." Blessed? Come on, Jesus. How is feeling terrible a blessing?

I've come to realize today that disappointment in people and in myself is a blessing. Because it reminds me that where my treasure is, my heart will be also. And if I make things that aren't Jesus my treasure, I will be disappointed. But if I love God first, I won't be disappointed. And what better way to see that than to lose something and feel that only God remains. He's the one that makes me get up in the morning now. Because there isn't anything else. And that is a blessing to know, that when there is nothing else. There is God.

Oh, and kind of on those lines, my aunt Donna talked of someone who believes that you live on until the last person who remembers you, dies. That's not an original thought, but it discouraged her. And then she remembered that Jesus remembers her, and will never die. Because he will never die, she will live forever. Not bad, eh?

I want to go back to N'awlins! (I went down there last weekend if you didn't know.) I'm turning into a snow-hater, which is sad because usually I love snow.
But it would have been nice if the only snow we got were those 2 days around Christmas.

When we (my family) were down there, we went and saw this Cajun band called the Hackleberry Ramblers. They wore red suspenders and cowboy hats, and they were all in their nineties. One by one, they had to sit down as they played. My (Aunt?) Faith came up to my dad during part of that and told him she thought that the accordian player was "Drop dead gorgeous." I said it was the best I'd heard them play in 70 years. During every song, my uncle Paul said that "this might be their last one... ever." On our way down the street, away from Tipitina's Bar where we saw them play, we spotted an ambulance coming toward us. "Uh oh," said my Aunt Kathy. Isn't my family nice?

If you ever go to to New Orleans, make sure you go get a beignet at the Cafe Du Monde. And eat it slow. And eat gumbo. And visit a graveyard.

Here's a quote from song by Bruce Cockburn that's been meaning alot to me this week.

"Bloody nose and burning eyes
Raised in laughter to the skies
I've been in trouble but I'm ok.
Been through the wringer but I'm ok.
Walls are falling but I'm ok.
Under the Mercy and I'm ok."
~Fascist Architecture

Okay, so the AC adapter on my laptop has split, and I can 't plug the computer in. I had to call Dell and order a new one. It cost me $70. Looks like I'll be putting in extra hours at the bug range. I won't have a computer for a week.

"Slow down, you move to fast. Try to make the moment last."
Simon and Garfunkel.

Okay, so I walked to class this morning and my hair froze, but while I was taking the 20 min hike to dance class I did some thinking. I've found myself worried lately about things I can't help, like my future, and I kind of settled into these "whoa nora, one day at a time" type thoughts. It was comforting, kind of like a call to slow down and just take each moment as it is, without thinking too much about the sidelines. Does that make sense? I just suddenly had this desire to be more present, where I was, rather than off in my other world that I spend most of my time in--my world of pondering. I think these thoughts were influenced by Amelie, which I watched the other night. Living like that, literally in each moment, would be impossible I think (esp. when I'm bored. I'm thankful for my imagination then, and right before I go to sleep I like to wake-dream), but I think it would be a good thing to be a little more aware of what's going around me, rather that viewing every noise and sight as an interruption to what's going on in my head. Because how am I going to be a writer if I never notice anything?

The next thought I had was to be more honest, and I think an attempt to take every moment as it comes would help. Not necessarily more honest with other people, because I don't consider myself to be a phoney person, but kind of like, more honest with myself. Maybe more honest with God. I think I've come along way in this area, but I suppose there is always room for improvement. But here's the thought that occured to me. "Be more honest, and talk less." Hah. Not a bad one though. There are times I feel like I talk so much, I'm not at all aware of the world outside my head. I want to improve that.

Heh, so with all this "thinking" what did I notice around me? Not much. I noticed that I was cold, my hair was frozen, and I was kind of happy to be going to a dance class and thinking on the terms of being healthy again.

Okay, now I have to go to class. I have Acting for the Camera (...) and Acting with Phillip Kerr (...). Yay for Theater. Then I have American Drama. Yay for more theater. Yeah.

Sad, sad, sad, sad--why must I be sad?
Rows of dandelions growing all around me
Why must I be sad?
~They Might Be Giants

I think that song is about Alice in Chains or something, but it's always been a favorite of mine because I'm often sad for no good reason. Another great one that helps is "Think About Your Troubles," where Harry Nilsson makes an argument that thinking about all that is bad in your life is a waste of time.

On the way to seeing Cold Mountain with my mom, I described to her my favorite part of the Return of the King, when Gandalf greets the waking Frodo at the end of their journey, stands in front of him, and laughs. Frodo was given a task--destroy the ring. But there were enemies that didn't want that to happen that gave him a hard time. By the end of the journey, Frodo barely accomplishes this task before he succombs to the other side. In fact, he doesn't actually do the job. Standing in front of the lava, he sees that he's not strong enough, and it takes Gollum to destroy it for him, after all. So, he doesn't really finish out what he was sent to accomplish, but the job gets done despite of his weakness. In that moment when he wakes up and Gandalf is staring at him, there's this moment of fear;"Shit, he knows that I did a crappy job." Gandalf's stern face melts into a joyous visual aid to his bellowing laugh. Frodo joins in, and then the door opens and the Fellowship tumbles inside. They all laugh, embracing; "we made it" is the subtext. Seeing that the first time, I bawled my eyes out because I felt like I was seeing a picture of myself in a few years.
I was given a task. "Follow Jesus." And, like Frodo, today all I can see is what a crappy job I'm doing at it. All the messes I've made that God has cleaned up for me. There's no way I can be a light. But maybe Jesus sees me the way Gandalf saw Frodo. "You made it. You did it. You might not have done it exactly right, but the job is done and now you are here." One day I'm going to die and I'll see Jesus because(I believe)everyone will. I just imagine that he will appear before me, like Gandalf saw Frodo, and he'll be the first thing I see when i open my eyes. And Jesus will crack up. And I will crack up too. And we'll just laugh, because, yeah, I did a pretty crappy job, but who the hell cares? I've made it and all that doesn't matter. And then my fellowship will come tumbling in behind Jesus and we'll all embrace, knowing that we made it. Goodness, that is a nice thought, isn't it? Today would be a nice day to hear "Well done, faithful servent." Because today, I feel like I'm hoping for too much, if I hope I'll hear that. Sigh.

So, we got to the movie 20 mins early. Lord of the Rings played next door to Cold Mountain. I told my mom we could go watch 20 mins of Lord of the Rings. Heh. So we went in and there was Frodo, getting his finger bit off. We watched until the Fellowship came tumbling in. God must have known that I needed to see that again. I love it when that shit happens. It makes my Lord that I'm following a bit more tangible in a world where I can't see him. And Lord knows I need that time to time.

I guess my point in bringing up the quotes is that if you're looking at Jesus, you're automatically going to see what a crappy job you're doing, or how awful the world is. Because he makes it all look bad. But there's no use focusing on all that which "drags our spirit down" (right, Mr. Bibb?). There's alot of trouble and sadness in my mind today. But I gotta keep on walking and just deal with it. Because I think God sees past my trouble. Maybe he'll teach me how to just laugh it off.

It's New Year's Eve!

Here's some thoughts about the past year.
I started the year off with Richard III. I don't even remember my character's name; I had three lines and spent most of the process writing poetry backstage. Then I did "Under Milkwood." I played a cranky middle aged woman and a girl who lay in fields and traced lipstick around her breasts. Hah! Then I did the Fantasticks, my mother's favorite musical. For that I had to quit smoking and retrain my voice to hit notes I hope and pray I'll never have to think about hitting again. Following that (or maybe during it?) I wrote a story that simultaneously covered my grandmothers and my dating adventures. Yippee. I found it to be extremely self-indulgent and vowed never to deliberately write a story about my life again.

I ran into some financial trouble and prayed to God "I need money." The same week I was offered 17$ an hour to talk to Korean kids in English. That job lasted until about October. I still keep in touch with the Kim family though. I am blessed to have them in my life.

Then Jenni left for Thailand. I dealt with it by listening to Stevie Wonder's "Place in the Sun," which reminded me that I will have to move on from that phase in my life, but comforted me to, knowing that Jenni and I are running towards the same goal, and that our friendship is eternal. And then I moved out of my apt on Maiden Lane. That hurt. I was attached to that place, and I still miss Ian Trevethan throwing wood chips at the window to be let in. But I signed the lease for the new "Upper Room" that I reside in with Erinn and Elma and am quite pleased with it.

Then there was a roadtrip. Roadtrip? you ask. What Roadtrip? Heh, yeah right. I'm sure you have already heard about it so there's no need to recap (and somewhere in the past entries of this online journal I wrote a pretty amusing list of things I learned from the roadtrip.) But looking at it from this point in time, I see that the trip was probably the biggest trial to my faith I ever faced, but the fact that I still believe shows me that there is a God after all, and it's He's not a mere concoction I have developed to deal with my problems (not a crutch, as I've been accused of this past year by a fine gentleman who obviously cared about me lots.) Oh, but I read Travels with Charley on my roadtrip, and that book made me decide that Steinbeck is my favorite author and that we have a lot in common because we're both messed up, and that I aspire to be him.

Then I went to the campout, which forced me to face some tough stuff in the Fellowship, but it also helped me to rebuild my faith. Then I came home and began to teach the Sermon on the Mount every other week for the teens at NWF Sunday School. I had to do it alone, which was hard at first, but God has really blessed me with that.

For school I took another fiction class and gained some great friends in there. I also stuck with the anti-self-in-the-story pact, and wrote female protagonists who were all 5'11. Oh, and I managed to somehow use three formes ofthe name Ed for characters in a story I wrote about grasshoppers, which still amazes me. I think the writing has improved. I also took a class about the theater business which was pretty unbearable, but I got through.

And then there was Clown Class. In hell, there are lots of clowns. Lots and lots of clowns, and lots of demons telling you that you are a bad clown. And at the far end of hell, an angel comes down and throws whipped cream in your face and lets you watch "Killer Klowns from Outer Space" before allowing you another chance at the world above. There you go, that was the best description of my experience in Clown Class I could come up with.

And then there was playwriting. I'm not comfortable enough with that experience to remember it at this point in time, but I'll just say that I felt like it was a lot of work for nothing, and perhaps if I didn't take Playwriting I could have written better stories in my fiction class, but hey, I'm hard on myself.

Ah, and then, also this year, I entered the wonderful world of databasing grasshoppers and met plenty of entomologists and peeked into the Oh My! drawer to see that there are, indeed, huge-ass insects in this world, but they are mostly from Brazil. So, also, I could name 2003 as the year I decided not to go to Brazil.

I also met Jay and Scott from the Psalters who may be a part of my future year(s?). They offered me an opportunity to be a part of their musical group which sounds more exciting than anything I could have imagined.

So, that's where I'm at now! Overall, God has been pretty damn good to me through it all.

This is in response to Eric's comment to my last entry, that I may need a little more than God.

I thought about that for a minute. "A little more than God." Why did that strike me as so strange? How do I see
God? As the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the last. Huge, mysterious, encompassing everything. A God who goes everywhere with me, who never leaves me, no matter how hysterical I get in my emotions. Who walks with me when I'm in a slump and somehow sustains me to keep going. He promises I'll find Him if I'm looking for Him. He finds me when I'm not looking for him (like a coin, or a sheep, eh Uncle Paul?)... But, more than anything I know about him, I know he meets my needs. And he does that with people, I think, more than anything else. Yes, I admit, the tears of the other night were selfish, considering the amount of pity involved. I think my point was, bringing up Harry Martin, that people and God are very connected. Well, some people and God. Some, like Harry, who make statements like "I'm happy to be 75 and still have a future to look forward to," can sense what I need to hear and say it to me. The "Man." at the end of the last entry was in response to the way my needs were met, with a person, after lamenting that I was too burdensome for people.

I can look back at my life and see that people come and go quite frequently during the course of it. If I look at that from the surface, it looks like I am simply bad at keeping friends close for more than three years at a time. If I look closer, I can see that each person had a purpose. I like to believe that each person was placed there, by God, to meet the needs of that time. My friend Jenni, now in Thailand, is a great example of that. During the three years that she was around me, God used her tons of times to point me back in the right direction. If I look at my life surrounding my time with Jenni, I can see that I wouldn't have survived without her. When she left, I cried knowing that my time with her would never be the same (I knew that when she returned that she would probably be damn near having a new last name), and that was hard. But in time I had peace about it. "You needed her right next to you during that time," my Reason told me. And He was right.

I'm reading a book by Dietrich Bonhoeffer now where the verse from Proverbs, "The spirit of man is the lamp of the Lord," came up. I think it was put there just for me at this time. I see that I do isolate myself, to an extent, but I can never isolate myself from God as long as His spirit is with me. But if I open myself up to people, I am allowing myself to see God clearer. Because of what Harry said the other day, it was clear that God uses us to be lights (He tells us He does, anyway. "You are the light of the world. Not, if you want, you can try to be the light of the world, but as matter-of-factly, "You are the light of the world.") Isolating myself from people, yes, is a sick form of hiding from God's light.

To wrap this up, I'll mention that there is really no such thing as "a little more than God." I think, what Eric meant, though perhaps he'll disagree, is "I think you need a little more OF God." The God that manifests himself in the people around me, to meet my stabilizing needs. Anyway, Eric, thanks for responding, because you're right, I have plenty of people around me that help meet my needs. It's foolish of me to try to love them and to isolate myself at the same time.

Last night was pretty rough. I didn't sleep very much and I woke up crying twice. It reminded me of some of the
nights of the roadtrip when I did that. I'm trying to quit smoking, and usually I could just go out and have a cigarette but I couldn't this time. It was miserable. I started to get upset because my thoughts told me that I was impossible to live with, with my condition of emotional instability. But I hated being alone. So it was like I couldn't live with or without other people. And then I thought it would be better to live alone, so only I would have to deal with my misery. Ugh.

I woke up this morning and went to church. Once again, Harry reminded me, through his teaching, that God is with me. But after the meeting, as I passed him he said "Thank you for being on this earth." I told him, "It wasn't my choice." And he said "the world is so much richer because you're here."

Man.

My parents got rid of the piano. I can't say that without letting tears glaze my eyes. I suppose it is just a piece of furniture. No. It's more than that. I would walk into the living room and feel my heart jump at the thought of pulling out the bench and lifting the pale wooden cover. My heart always did that, whether I played or not. I expressed myself on that piano long before i could plunk at the keys of my laptop. My fingers would spread over that ivory, they just fall into place. I barely used music. I just used what was in my head. Lately it was Musetta's Waltz, or Nessun Dorma.
I played it one last time before they took it away. Maybe I should have played it more before that. I sat in front of those keys and I was four years old again, playing what was in my head. I imagined, as I played, my parents surrounding me with tears in their eyes. My father places his hand on my shoulder and tries to understand what it means that they're giving it away. He changes his mind, apologizes, and I continue to play. They gave it away and no one understands what it meant for them to do that.
I have a guitar now, but I didn't have a guitar when I was four. I didn't figure out the Japanese theme from my Raffi tape on the guitar. Or the theme to Edward Scissorhands when i was seven. I can't sit at the guitar and touch my youth. "We'll buy you a keyboard," I've had repeated to me. A keyboard isn't the same. Any Other Piano Isn't The Same.
How long can one go on, lamenting over am instrument?

"Life without God is a long lonely road.
He's the reason to go on..."

We had this huge Christmas concert at NWF yesterday. It was combined with the Christian Fellowship Church--a group that we've befriended over the years and have been doing stuff with. It's a lot of fun for me because it's a black gospel church. They are surprisingly similar to us though. I think they have multiple pastors or elders, and they are pretty informal. It was a long concert, but it was great. My Uncle Paul, Aunt Donna, Chris Martin, and Frank Oakley sang a few songs. The quote up there is from the one that's been in my head.

Harry Martin taught a great message. He compared how the world recieves Jesus at Christmas time to the way a young toddler recieves a Christmas gift--he spends more time on the wrapping than the actual present. That's the way the world is at this time, with Christmas. "Too involved in the wrapping--" i.e., the shopping and the lights, or maybe even the giving itself, "to recognize the gift." I thought that was a great analogy.

It was good to be reminded that through Jesus being born into this world, and therefore taking on our "human condition," that He did his work ifor us. "Glory came down from Heaven," they sang. Sometimes that gets covered up in all the fake snow around here. "God is with us now," Harry explained. And He is. Oh, and before Harry said any of this he sung this hymn called "One Day" or something like that, which was really touching. He just sang it there, acapella, his voice vibrating off the YMCA walls. I wish I could remember exactly which song it was...

i'm feeling the aftershock of cutting off my right hand.

okay, so i've kind of given up theater. no, i've really given up theater--at least for now. my plans for next year are that i'm going to be a fulltime travelling musician. i haven't really grieved over losing theater until today, when i had to write the BFA dept head, john neville andrews, and email requesting 2 studio credits that i haven't gotten yet, because i haven't been cast in a university production since my sophomore year. and then it hit me. i haven't been cast since sophomore year. i've never cried about it, because i've never thought about it. i'm not crying about it now, it just sits heavy, making my stomach hurt. my mom worries that i'm giving up to easily, that i should finish out the theater thing. that's not where my heart is, because the theatre business is not what i want to be a part of. that's not how i want to serve Jesus, because usually when i gain theatrical success, I just end up serving myself and forget all about Him. Travelling with the Psalters seems right, because I will have to think of Him all the time, sing to Him all the time, and have fellowship. Yes, it just makes more sense to me, my heart jumps at the thought. But nonetheless, I am cutting of my right hand. and it hurts.

Every Sunday Chuck W asks if I'm still singing. Yes, Chuck, I'm still singing.

Here's a good old U2 quote:

Jesus never let me down
You know Jesus used to show me the score
Then they put Jesus in show business
Now it's hard to get in the door.

Think about that...

It's 3am where Jenni is now, and 70 degrees. "Tomorrow" it's going to be 90. Argh.

I'm in the middle of databasing grasshoppers, and I need to look at something else! I'm also listening to En Vogue... haha. It's Erinn's. I've been borrowing her stuff alot lately. I hope she's not ticked.

Well, the semester is almost over. I just have a clown performance to do. I am expecting a B in Clown... a B would satisfy me greatly.

Okay, so last night was the BFA Holiday Harry/Agnostic Al party (as opposed to Secret Santa...) for my theatre class. Can you believe I've had the same people in my classes since freshman year? Now here are 11 of us. We started with 14, I think. Lots have dropped or transferred. Katie Thomas made the "originals" a cd with songs to represent each of us. The song she chose for me was Lauryn Hill's
"Every Ghetto, Every City." I guess to go with my obsession for my hometown. Anyway, listening to it today, I think it's a wonderful song to be remembered by. Here's the chorus:

"Every Ghetto, Every City, Every suburban place I've been
Makes me recall my days in the New Jerusalem.
You know it's hard, don't forget what you got
Lookin' Back."

Not bad, eh? I think that Lauryn was referring to her home as the New Jerusalem, which is weird as hell, I'll admit, but I take it literally. Everywhere I go reminds me
of the days to come in the New Jerusalem. And I've definitely seen some things about Detroit (as lost as the place is--the internet news calls it the most dangerous city to live in! Way to go, Detroit!) that point me in the direction of Jesus. Yay for Jesus. Heh.

Okay, I'm back to work.

I haven't updated in a while! And I should, because my life is a lot better lately than it has been in a long time.

I have confirmed for myself, again, that I want to be a writer now. This has been very freeing for me. It's hard to
get motivated for those theater classes though, but that's okay. I decided, or I probably didn't decide this, but
that to an artist, there is no such thing as wasted time. We use everything. Esp. a writing artist.

My play is shaping up. I turned in the first draft today. Next week I'll get feedback. I had a bunch of people over this weekend to help me read through it. I hope everyone who came had as good of a time as I did. But I was encouraged because, though there were some errors, and the play would be impossible to actually put on, I wrote a play. And it wasn't the worst thing I've written. (What is the worst thing I've written? Any feedback? Perhaps my first poem for 223, though none of you can verify that, because I'll never show it to you... and don't you DARE say it was that letter I was going to send to Ford asking for a free car for our roadtrip, because I still have a copy of that and hold it dear.)

MELANOPLUS REX--let's just say that the class hated the ending. Not one person, not one! thought it was as funny as I did. Everyone seemed to like it, but no one liked the fact that I did the protagonist in at the end. Here's my favorite comment. "Good Story. Bad Ending. For your next draft, new ending." HA! No one seemed to catch that it was over dramatic (Though, Lisa DID make me take out the part where Edna looks at the sky and screams "NO!" before burrowing her head into the dying entomologist's chest). So, to the delight of all who have suffered through the terrible loss of Ned Kahn (as opposed to Ted Cohn), the endearing 5'4" redhead grasshopper king, i believe that for the next draft he'll survive. I won't think it's as funny, but frankly, I don't think I'll get an A on the story if I kill the guy. Simple as that.

Oh, Sunday I went with Jason Beck (of Madison Greene fame) and Niki P. ( of being engaged to one of my best friends-fame.) to see this incredible Brazilian percussion/tapdancing/swordfighting/rock and roll band at the Blind Pig. And I don't even remember their name! But they were fantastic.

Finally, I have lost a lot of the loneliness I've felt all semester. I ran into Diane Martin at NWF on Sunday, and she asked how I was, and I could honestly say I was doing extremely well, and that there was nothing wrong with my life at the moment. I was happy to say that. Very happy indeed. Now I'm just wondering how long this euphoria will last (I study the sky for approaching clouds and lightening bolts) because as much as I want to be a Shiny Happy Person holding hands, the truth is that I'm pretty pessimistic and gloomy. But oh well. Life is nice at the moment. I don't know how long for, but I guess I do know that eventually it will be forever, so I'm not sweating it.

Okay kids, better start warming up for that audition. An audition where I will approach saying "Hello, I want to be your dramaturg" so I can learn all about Arthur Miller and do research, because I'm a nut! I love research. The more I know the more I can write. And Miller and I go back. Way back to our writing prizes. Yeah.

Ciao for now.