Howl-o-ween

That's my basset, dressed up as Elvis for Halloween! His cape says "Hound Dog King" on the back. Isn't he perfect? (I know he is, you don't even have to tell me!) He's posing in my sister's front yard, along with the pumpkins Chelsea and I carved last night. The pumpkins came out surprisingly good, considering neither one of us had ever carved a pumpkin before. They were a little lopsided, but I say that just adds that homemade charm. We were reminiscing about watching Dad carve pumpkins all the Halloweens of our childhood, talking about how exciting it was and how we always thought he was doing something so magical and difficult. Turns out there's really nothing to it! But Dad sure did a good job of making it seem impressive, anyway. And I love jack-o-lanterns, mine is sitting on my patio right now and every time I've taken Cohen outside tonight we check it out and I smile.

Speaking of Dad, his ankle is definitely broken. In three places. He's having surgery on it tomorrow morning because they need to get it back in the right position with pins and plates. And then he'll be in a cast for a couple of months, I think. I just hope the surgery goes well. Keep your fingers crossed or say a prayer or send good vibes for him, whatever it is you do.

And speaking of parents, an occurence this weekend makes me think that perhaps I should never actually be a mother. Yesterday afternoon I was at Petsmart. Cohen and Morty (Chelsea's dog) had just finished their obedience class and Chelsea and I needed to do some shopping for treats and supplements and other pet things, so I put Cohen into our shopping cart and pushed him around while we shopped. It's hard for me to do any real shopping if he's walking because he likes to pull everywhere and sniff everything, so I put him into the cart to keep him from slowing me down and driving me crazy, plus he actually seemed to be enjoying riding in the shopping cart. And a basset hound chillin' in a shopping cart is one of the cutest things you could ever see in your life, trust me. Anyway, we bought a bunch of things, including these treats called ChocoMilk Drops (this fact will become important momentarily).
So we're standing in the parking lot after doing our shopping, putting our bags into the back of Chelsea's Jeep. Morty is on his leash, secured to Chelsea's wrist. Cohen is still in the shopping cart. I'm holding the shopping cart with one hand to keep it from rolling down the sloping parking lot.
Begin scene-
Me: Do you think these ChocoMilk drops actually taste like chocolate milk? Because they look pretty good.
Chelsea: I don't know. I wonder.
Me: I kind of want to taste one. But that's weird.
Chelsea: Should we taste one? [Pulls treat bag out of shopping bag, begins to read the back] It's mostly just sugar, and whey something...cocoa powder, powdered milk. It's stuff humans could eat. Do you want to try one? It might not be bad.
Me: I don't know. That's pretty gross. But I'm curious.
Chelsea: Have you ever tried the yogurt ones?
Me: Yeah, Cohen has them, he likes them.
Chelsea: No, I mean have you ever tried one?
Me: Oh, no. I never have.
Chelsea: Let me open this [attempts to rip open bag]. I wonder if I need scissors.
Me: You should be able to just rip it. Here, let me-
Chelsea: Oh no!! COHEN!!!!

I turned around just in time to see the shopping cart rolling down the sloped lot towards the front doors of Petsmart. Cohen seemed oblivious to the whole thing, he was still just chillin', looking around, rolling through the parking lot BY HIMSELF. I was shocked into just standing still shouting, "Get him!", leaving my sister to go running after him and stop the cart [obviously, I am really bad in any sort of emergency situation that involves immediate action]. Luckily he didn't get very far, and as soon as my sister had stopped the cart we both laughed so hard we cried. I had to sit down on the floor I was laughing so hard. No words could ever explain exactly how funny Cohen looked rolling through the lot in that cart.
But seriously, this is why I can't be a parent. I am so absentminded I let my puppy go rolling through a crowded parking lot in a shopping cart because I was too busy discussing the merits of TASTING DOG TREATS to actually pay attention to my dog.
Incidentally, Chelsea and I did end up tasting the dog treats once we finally stopped laughing. They taste exactly like Whoppers.

Anyway, my Halloween celebrations for the year are over, even though it's not even officially Halloween yet. There was the whole carving pumpkins and dressing up the dogs thing on Saturday night, which was very entertaining (To me and Chelsea anyway. I can't say that the dogs particularly appreciated it). And on Friday night I went to a costume party with Matthew. I wore my devil costume from last year (one of the best things about moving is that all your old clothes become new again because, hey, no one here has ever seen them!) and Matthew was a "shooting porn star" (don't ask). I drank some vodka, made snide comments about various party guests with Matthew, took pictures with some very friendly and excited people, and met the best drag queen ever. His name is Levi and everything he said almost killed me. Among the highlights:

Disgusted Total Loser Straight Guy: You have a straw for your beer?
Levi: Actually, it's for my lipstick.

Girl: Nice Halloween costume!
Levi: Oh honey, this isn't a Halloween thing, it's a weekend thing.

We only stayed for a couple of hours, but I'm glad I went out anyway because I was thinking I probably wouldn't actually dress up and go out this year.
So I dressed up, the dogs dressed up, I carved a pumpkin, I've been eating a bunch of Halloween candy my mom sent in the mail, and today I even helped set up a Halloween carnival for little kids so I could get some volunteer hours. My Mitte Scholar friends Nick and Chris and I made an excessively long black and orange paper chain and draped it around the entire room while everyone else was actually doing productive things like making punch and rice krispie treats and, well, basically doing everything else. Haha. Needless to say, I think I've had my fill of the holiday for this year.

Addictions

I have done nothing tonight but feed my addictions. I'm watching Halloween cake decorating contests on the Food Network, playing word games on Yahoo, and eating Chocolate Peanut Butter Chex Mix (Oh my god, have you had this stuff? It is heaven in snack form: peanut butter flavored Chex, chocolate candy, pretzels...I think I had five servings tonight at least, and I finally had to hide it from myself at the very back of the cupboard to make myself stop eating it for a while). To further feed my addictions I considered a) going out for a few drinks and b) sexy phone calls, but neither of those things happened. Yet, anyway. Well, the drinking thing isn't going to happen at all because by the time I decided I wanted a drink it was already after 11 and bars close at midnight here. I may still make a phone call later. Or I may just sleep semi-early. Whatever. Both of my Thursday classes got cancelled today and needless to say I didn't do anything productive. I don't do well with a lot of free time because I just waste it. Oh well, at least it was relaxing.

Actually, it's a lie to say I wasn't productive today at all, because I did do a few things. I went to rehearsal for my friend's production of SubUrbia, for one. I'm playing Bee-Bee, which I'm enjoying mainly because I get to die at the end and be carried off stage in dramatic fashion. Yes!!
I was late to rehearsal today because I was having plumbing issues with my toilet and had to figure out how to fix it. Happily, I can report I fixed the toilet. By myself!! How's that for being self-reliant?! Anyway, I got to rehearsal just in time to hear my friend telling my castmate, "He told me that he loves me but he doesn't like me anymore." Turns out her boyfriend (who is supposed to be playing Tim) had opted to sleep through rehearsal today and she was ranting about a fight they had last night. As if that comment wasn't awful enough, she also said that he told her, "I wish we had been friends before we'd started dating, because if I'd known you better first I never would have started dating you." Isn't that rotten? The crazy thing is, she's only considering leaving him. You'd think after comments like that it would be easy to say, "This guy is bad for me, I need to get out of this." But instead she was rationalizing it, saying things like "I think once he finds a job and goes back to school it will be better. He'll feel better about life and stop taking things out on me." And the thing is, as easy as it is for me as an outsider to shake my head in disgust wondering why on earth a chick as sweet as her stays with such an asshole, every girl I know has made that mistake at some point. Some of them do it over and over again. Even I have done that, and I like to flatter myself that I have high self esteem and am good at getting away from people who are draining. It's amazing the things we'll rationalize away just because we want to be in a relationship, any relationship. I know I did it with Mike for a while towards the end, telling myself, "This is just because he's having a hard time right now. He'll get over this rough time and things between us will be better. This really has nothing to do with me." Until one night I realized I was fooling myself. It did have a lot to do with me because I was the one who was being hurt. I was the one hiding her head under the pillow and crying at night. It was time to get out. In the years since then Mike really has gotten better, and he is still one of my best friends. He actually did get over his rough patch as far as I can tell, and things between us are really, really good these days. So it can happen. Still, I'm glad I didn't stay in the relationship to wait for that to happen. I'm glad we ended things before I got really messed up. And I hope that my friend realizes the same thing: that her boyfriend really might be a wonderful person, but as long as he is telling her hateful things she needs to get away from him until he gets his life back together, however long that takes. Sigh. I worry about her. It's amazing the things we women will do for men we're convinced we love (and vice versa, I suppose, although I can't really speak for men). I've let guys get away with things I would never, ever dream of letting my girlfriends get away with. It's sad, really. Too bad it's so hard to really, truly feel confident being alone. Because that's what it all boils down to, I think. Whether or not they acknowledge it, in many people's minds a tenuous, strained relationship is better than no relationship at all. Ugh.

Changing the subject, my mom just now called to tell me that my dad broke his ankle! His bar has a softball team that he plays on along with one other older guy and a ton of my brother's friends. Tonight they were playing in the championship game and my father-for reasons only he understands-decided he needed to slide into second base. So he slid, and broke his ankle. Actually, I haven't heard confirmation that it's broken yet, but my mom told me it's twisted at a 45 degree angle so I don't see how it couldn't be broken. Poor Dad. I feel so bad for him. I personally don't understand why a man that just turned 49 needs to be running around on a softball field trying to keep up with a bunch of 20 year old kids anyway, and everyone warned him over and over again that he shouldn't be attempting to slide (let me add that he already horribly ripped up his knees in another sliding incident and injured his hand earlier in the season, too), but still. He doesn't deserve something like this. He just got a new gym membership, too, and was working out all the time and had apparently lost like, ten pounds and was starting to get in good shape. And now this happens. Now that I think about it, this family has a bad record of getting hurt right as we're getting into shape. It happened to me last year: the new year started, I was determined to get into a good workout routine, I'd been working out hard for three weeks and had just started to see some good results when I fell and sprained my ankle and was hobbling around for the next six weeks. Same with my grandma: she was walking to get exercise and she fell and broke her knee. Maybe we should acknowledge as a family that we are not meant to be overly athletic and buff and should just stick to eating relatively healthy food and walking on the treadmill supplemented with some light weighlifting once in a while. Anyway, I feel really sad for my Dad. Although maybe in a small way this will help him. As much as I love having parents that act much younger than their years and can go out and party with the best of them and stay in good shape physically, they should probably acknowledge that they're not 25 anymore. I worry sometimes about my parents getting carried away and bad things happening, and this proves to me that I'm not worrying entirely without reason. I just hope that even if it is actually broken it's not too bad, and that he'll get better quickly.

January is not all that far away

So I just registered for my classes for next semester.
I'm taking Dramatic Theory, Dramaturgy, Directing Styles, and Playwriting.
Of those I'm probably least excited about Dramaturgy, which is weird because I wouldn't mind being a dramaturg someday. It's just it's taught by a professor who kind of intimidates me (the same one I have for Drama Research right now) and I know it will involve a huge amount of writing.
Dramatic Theory seems like it will be interesting, and its taught by my favorite professor from this semester, so that should be good.
In Directing Styles we'll be directing one-acts, which is cool.
And Playwriting. I've always wanted to try it, I needed to fill an extra space in my schedule with an elective, so there ya go.
12 hours total, and I only go to class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which should be nice.
The scary thing is, it's already time to start thinking about my thesis, because after next semester I only have 6 hours of courses left to take and then the other 6 hours I need are my thesis. What the hell do I want to write about?
Oh well, I'm gonna go lie down and take a nap until it's time to meet with my actors for rehearsal for scene two of my directing project. It just never ends!

Soft Jeans Straight A's Birthdays Projects

I feel the need to report that I just ripped a hole in one of my favorite pairs of jeans. I sat down in my desk chair and folded my legs up Indian style (my preferred style of sitting, it keeps me sitting up straight and takes a lot of stress off my back, although if crossing your legs really does cause varicose veins I'm gonna be in so much trouble when I'm older) and as I bent my right knee, rip! So now there's a hole in my jeans, and damn it, I don't think hole-y jeans are trendy right now. I'm so disappointed! These jeans, they're so comfortable. Back when we were dating Mike used to refer to these jeans as my "soft jeans" and even made up a nickname for me involving these jeans. [For the record, the nickname was Gray-Shirt-Sock-Hands-Soft-Jeans-Shell-Back and yes, I could explain exactly why that was my nickname except it's one of those stupid disgusting couple-y things that was undoubtedly entertaining only to us and it would take more energy to explain than I feel like exerting right at this moment. If you're really that curious ask me about it someday and I'll explain] Actually, I guess it's a testament to how old these jeans are that I was wearing them regularly when I was dating Mike. I know for a fact I had these jeans when I was a freshman in college, which means they are at least four years old and possibly older than that. And they've been in heavy rotation, I wear them once or twice a week most weeks. So, okay, it was probably about time to retire them anyway but man, it's sad losing a good item of clothing. On the bright side, I now have a pretty good excuse to use some of my birthday money to buy a new pair of jeans, and the Neiman Marcus outlet nearby sometimes has my favorite designer brand (aka the only designer brand I've ever actually worn) for ridiculously cheap prices, so I may actually bring myself to spend my birthday money on something other than groceries and my electric bill.

So, did I mention my birthday is less than two weeks away? Well, it is. And I'm going to be old, as evidenced by the fact that I'm planning to spend at least part of my birthday money on groceries. I'm going to be 23. I'm not very excited about it. 23 is one of my "scary ages". I've been trying to put my finger on why, and I think it boils down to two things. 1) 23 has a 3 in it. I've never been a big fan of the number 3, for some inexplicable reason. Everyone has a number that they irrationally don't like much, right? Well, for me that number is 3. 2) When I say I'm 22 I still feel pretty young. I feel like 22 is young 20s, 22 is college age, 22 is partying until you pass out without people calling you pathetic, 22 is too young to reasonably be expected to do things like buy property or start a career or get married. Yes, some people have done those things by 22, but not the majority. 23, on the other hand, is mid-twenties in my mind. I'm about to enter my fourth year of being a 20-something. 22 is a kid, 23 is an ADULT. Don't ask me why that distinction comes at 23 in my mind, it just does. Somehow it sounds completely illogical to me for anyone to have done the marriage/career/family/home thing at 22 but not all that unreasonable at 23. Young, yes, but perfectly reasonable. Now that I'm about to be 23 I really feel the need to do something with my life. Not that I'm not doing things right now. In the grand scheme of things my life is on the track I would like it to be on. I'm in graduate school so I'm working on my career and I have a basic career goal in mind, even if the specifics are a little fuzzy and change once in a while. Regardless, I'm making progress. I don't live with my parents, which is probably an accomplishment in and of itself. I have a dog, which proves I'm responsible enough to care for another life (having a cat doesn't so much prove that, as the cat can stay in the apartment alone for an entire week as long as I fill up his feeder and leave the toilet seat up). Most importantly-to me anyway-I'm more or less self-sufficient. My parents are incredibly supportive and wonderful in ways that include paying my phone bill, car insurance, and health insurance, and I realize those are some major expenses. But short of those things (and the moment I'm no longer a student I intend to take on those expenses as well) I'm taking care of myself. I pay my own rent and monthly bills, I buy my own groceries, I buy my own gas, my scholarships pay for school completely. I think because my parents were so amazing about paying for me to get my undergraduate degree I feel like it is completely unfair for me to continue taking money from them beyond that. They did an awesome thing for me in that I am going to be able to start my career without any college debt to pay off. I don't know many people in that position, and I'm forever indebted to my parents for giving me that head start. So now I'm trying my best to stop mooching any money from them at all as soon as I possibly can. For some reason it's really important for me to feel like I can take care of myself without financial help from anyone else, and I've taken huge steps towards that goal. I'm not going to be one of those kids that leeches off her parents until she's 32. I'm proud of myself for that. What I'm basically trying to say is that I suppose for all intents and purposes I've been successful thus far. But still I feel like I need to be doing more somehow now that I'm 23, and that's why 23 is a scary age.

I'm still excited about my birthday itself, though. I don't think I'll do anything at all to celebrate other than NOT do any schoolwork at all that day, but that's more than enough celebration for me, believe me!

And while we'e on the subject of birthdays and other happy things, let me just add that the Stupid Group Project is over! And it wasn't nearly as disastrous as I thought it might be! In fact, we facilitated conversations and led activities for the entire 3 hour class period and even had leftover topics that we didn't get to touch on at all. And the prof told us we did a "really great job", which better mean we're getting an A. Or at very least a B+. I'll accept a B+.
And we got our third and final play reports back today and I finally, finally nailed it. A 98! I object to the 98 in theory (is it that hard to just write 100 on top of the paper? Really? I understand the difficulty in implying that my paper is 100 percent perfect when obviously nothing is ever going to be 100 percent perfect, but in terms of the sheer math of it all do the two points really make a difference?) but in reality I'm very excited. So, to summarize: Stupid Group Project is over, I've gotten As on every assignment I've turned in so far. I'm a happy nerd.

Froot Loopy

This time tomorrow I'll be finished with a stupid group project for my Contemporary World Theatre class that is driving me crazy, mainly because only two out of the four of us are actually doing any work. I'll be very happy when it's over.
Then all I have to do the rest of the semester is:
-My fifteen page paper on the controversy surrounding product placement on Broadway (halfway done already, as I've done 75% of the research and have a completed outline, abstract, and lit review)
-My twelve page paper on a comparison of the failed men in Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and Miller's Death of a Salesman as a microcosm of the destruction of the "American Dream" (due at the end of the semester, thank God because I have done nothing but come up with the topic and write the abstract)
-My however-long-I-feel-like-making-it paper (I'm thinking 5 pages, max) on a topic of my choosing for Stage Management
-My Stage Management prompt book, after I actually stage manage my show at the end of the semester
-My Directing notebook and script analysis (also due the last day of the semester, thank God because I haven't started on that either)
-Two more directing scenes

That's it. It's still a lot of work, but that's pretty much every bit of it right there, and just the fact that I can list it that easily is reassuring. I'll have a little bit of reading for Contemporary Theatre still, but I actually find that enjoyable so that's okay. And then the semester is over! And I'm 1/4 of the way towards my masters degree! Woohoo!

I'm craving rice krispy treats so badly right now. When I was a sophomore at TCU Kymberli and I used to eat lunch at Deco Deli pretty much every day and they had these rice krispy treats with bits of other cereal mixed in, like Froot Loops or Fruity Pebbles. Those were the best rice krispy treats in the entire world. Tragically, they stopped making them junior year for some reason, but man, I still think about how good those bastards were. I'd love one of those right now. Instead I just had a s'more, which was good but didn't quite fulfill the craving.

And now I'd like to go to bed, except my lazy butt basset won't wake up and come out of his crate where he's sleeping, and I refuse to go to bed until he lets me take him out to use the bathroom since otherwise he's gonna wake up at 6 a.m. wanting to go outside and homie don't play that game. Especially since I have to get up at 8 a.m. tomorrow anyway to finish my portion of this stupid group project.

Man, I'm fun tonight!

Cohen wins!!

Today I took Cohen to his first ever Basset Waddle. It was so much fun!! Chelsea and her dog Morty came, too, wearing a t-shirt we made that said My Cousin is a Basset. All in all it was about the cutest day ever and possibly the most fun Cohen has ever had in his entire life.

And the best part?

Cohen won third place in the Central Texas Basset Derby!!! True, he tripped a guy at the beginning of the race because he decided to take off in a zigzag patter rather than running straight ahead, and he probably would have come in first place if he hadn't stopped at each turn to look back and bark at the bassets behind him, but still. My bassie won! He even got a trophy and a ribbon and he got his picture taken for the newspaper!

I'm a proud mama!

Fort Worth for Real

Since I have now been home for almost an entire week I think I should actually give a summary of everything awesome that happened in Fort Worth last weekend. It's not going to be a very detailed summary because somehow even though it's a Saturday night I still feel really busy and I can't shake the feeling that I should be doing school work (my God I'm boring right now), but at least I'm summarizing the trip, which is about all you can expect from me at this point.

Fun in Fort Worth, a Numbered List:

1. A night at The Pub. Need I say more?
2. Watching Elizabethtown with Kymberli and Jason. It got mixed reviews, but I liked it, mainly for the scene where Kirsten Dunst gets out of bed in the morning after hooking up with Orlando Bloom for the first time and he's fast asleep in the bed and as she is getting ready to leave she is making as much noise as possible, purposely dropping her stuff onto the bed and clomping around in her heels hoping that he'll wake up and say goodbye. Because I've totally done that, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
3. Watching Aaron Kirby as Aladdin in "Aladdin Junior" at Casa Manana. Aaron did a good job, it was a kids' show (in case the title "Aladdin Junior" didn't tip you off to that), I laughed at a lot of things that weren't supposed to be funny but were funny to me (which is sort of the story of my life, actually).
4. Cruising around to post-bar parties with Jorge and discovering we do an awesome duet on Kanye West's Gold Digga. He sings the Jamie Foxx part, I do the rapping. Because I don't care what none of y'all say, I still love her.
5. Yelling "SCOTT!!" (a la Frau Farbissina) at Katy's fiancee multiple times over the course of the weekend and making a list of priorities as Katy's maid of honor, the most important of which is yelling "SCOTT!!" multiple times at all wedding-related functions. The rest of the priorities all involve her bachelorette party, pretty much.
6. Awesome drugs. Really awesome drugs.
7. "Starlight Express! Starlight Express!" (And I'm just gonna leave it at that. Because, well, there are no words.)
8. The totally awesome cheer Kymberli and I made up on our way to the bar on Saturday night and then performed at The Shamrock for all of our friends, who weren't all that impressed with our TOTALLY AWESOME cheer for some reason. Possibly because it was really just a combination of a pre-existing Horned Frogs cheer and "Starlight Express! Starlight Express!" and three hand gestures, total. Or possibly because they weren't as buzzed as we were.
9. Margaritas and spinach dip at Charleston's.
10. Sex.
11. Telling the guy with the girlfriend who had been unsuccessfully trying to kiss me at the bar for an hour, "If she is hitting on people in Denton and you are hitting on people in Fort Worth, then WHY are you two even in a relationship in the first place? Think about THAT, John," and then storming away from him to spend the night with someone else who doesn't have a girlfriend in Denton.

Good times, all in all.

Happy Place

Tonight I suddenly find myself wishing that I was back in London, in the boys' flat on Hatton Garden. I want it to be one in the morning, when pretty much everyone has already gone to bed. I want to be in my comfy brown Frog Legs pajamas, curled up on the couch, sharing bourbon and gossiping with Katie. I want Jorge to walk by and kiss me on the forehead on his way to stand at the open window and smoke cigarettes with Jason, who is saying something goofy that causes Katie and I to roll our eyes but laugh at the same time. I want that feeling of contentment because I'm with people who make me happy, and excited anticipation for the morning, and peace because the biggest question on my mind is "What show do I want to see tomorrow?"
I can't really imagine a better feeling in the world than that.

Also, since that other sentimental entry wasn't enough for one evening

One more thing, before I go to sleep (and I really should go to sleep):

When I ask you, "Do you think I'm the reason you're so anti-relationships nowadays?", a good answer to the question is NOT "I don't know. Maybe."

Unless of course your intention is to send me on a guilt trip wondering if it's possible that I could actually have screwed you up that badly (incidentally, I don't think I could possibly have been that important, but what do I know?) and to confuse me because on various other occasions you have told me that I was in fact a model girlfriend and that you compare other women to me.

If those are in fact your intentions, you have succeeded admirably.

I will give you this much, though: at least you're honest! And hey, I'm the idiot that asked that loaded question in the first place. I should know better.

P.S.-I just took Cohen out and noticed that my next door neighbor's door is propped open slightly. Not intentionally, more like he went inside, closed his door, and it just didn't latch all the way. Add this to the list of Really Crazy Things I Know I Shouldn't Do But Can Barely Resist Doing Anyway: Flinging his door open at 2:45 in the morning and yelling, "HOWDY, NEIGHBOR!" just to see what his reaction would be. Really, I'd be doing him a service. Someone should really teach him to deadbolt his door at night.

Where I get sentimental

Most nights around 9:00 I sit down with the intention of doing school work until sometime between midnight or 2 a.m. And most nights at bedtime I realize that I've accomplished pretty much nothing. Tonight, for example, I was going to attempt to complete most of my research for this pointless Latin American theatre group project I'm working on (I can't adequately explain just how much I hate group projects) since I also have to come up with a creative paper topic and write an abstract for that class for next week as well and since the first draft of my major research paper in another class is due in two weeks and I haven't so much as touched my stack of reading for that paper since I turned in my literature review three weeks ago. And my other two classes don't stop in the meantime (unfortunately). In short, I have a lot of crap to do. So what did I actually accomplish tonight? Well, I read the play I needed to read for the group project and made a list of discussion questions. That's it. I guess that's something, at least but it's nowhere near what I could have accomplished. The only time I ever actually accomplish anything is when I have to because it's due the next day. So far this system has worked, but I can never stop thinking that if I'm turning in passable work (even good work) when I'm procrastinating, what could I do if I actually worked on things a little bit at a time instead of always rushing and cramming and scrambling at the last minute?

I know this is boring and I promised I wouldn't just use this to bitch, so I'll change the subject.
You know what was so much fun? My weekend in Fort Worth! I got to spend the weekend with my best friends, and it was wonderful. I got kind of sad on the drive home, though, because I started thinking that it's really only a matter of time until I can no longer visit all of my closest friends in the same place. It's so convenient for me right now. I can drive to Fort Worth and spend time with the people that know me best. Pretty much the only person that I'm truly close to these days (not including family) that can't be visited in Fort Worth is Mike, but since he was never really part of my life in Fort Worth in the first place that's as it should be (he was still part of my life while I was living there, don't get me wrong, he just wasn't there physically). Eventually, though, I know Kymberli will move to New York, and Jenny will get a nursing job out of state and move away, and Jorge is talking about moving back to Dallas (which is close but just not as convenient), and so on, and soon the only people left to visit in Fort Worth will be Katy and Scott. And I'll go there to visit them, of course, but I think that's when Fort Worth will stop feeling like home to me. The day I can no longer gather a dozen people I know to hang out at the Pub will be the day Fort Worth really becomes a part of my past instead of my present.
That's the weird thing, Fort Worth still feels so much like home. Last week when I was in class and people were asking me about my weekend plans I kept saying, "Oh, I'm going home for the weekend," and then having to correct myself and say, "Well, not home home, I'm going to visit my friends in Fort Worth." But so much of me is still there that it feels like home.
And yet I feel at home here now, too. I don't have friends here in the same sense that I have friends in Fort Worth, but that's to be expected. I haven't even been living here three whole months yet, and I'm slow to truly warm up to new people. But I'm getting warmer. More importantly, this is home because this is where I relax. This is where I kick off my shoes and let down my hair and engage in the "secret single behavior" that I'd never do in front of anybody else. It's my own tiny corner of the world. It makes me happy.
To complicate things even further, even though it has been more than four years since I lived there year-round, El Paso still feels like home, too. I was raised there, how can it not? And as long as my parents are still there, and maybe after they are gone, El Paso will still be home.
So now I have three cities that bring the word "home" to my lips whenever I start to talk about them, and that's a good thing but also a bad thing. I don't feel anchored anywhere. That's not meant to be a depressing statement, it's not even necessarily a bad thing. It's just a truth of my life right now. I feel a bit like Largeman in Garden State. When he's in the pool with Sam and it's so sweet and she has her head on his shoulder and he says, "You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."
And I think that's so true, that the only way to feel anchored again is to eventually have my own family, however that ends up happening. Which is both appealing and really scary at the same time. I mean, I'm nowhere near a point where I feel ready to settle down with someone for the rest of my life. Even if I'd already met a person I could envision spending the rest of my life with (and I'm not sure that I have...sometimes I think that maybe I do already have that person, but I'm not entirely convinced at this point...) I wouldn't be ready for marriage yet. The thought of it makes me feel a mild sense of panic. But at the same time...there was this really weird moment this weekend, when Jorge and I were talking about his niece and I said, "No babies for me!" and he said "Why not?" and I said "One day, hopefully. But not soon, I'd be a terrible mother right now," and we both laughed and went on to talk about other things. I'm well aware, though, that that is what I want eventually. Someday I do want a man to put his hand on my stomach with the knowledge that our baby is there. That's a dream of mine, more so than any of my career ambitions, however politically incorrect that may be these days. But I also know that I don't want that any time soon, even if that does mean I drift "homeless" for many more years. Still, I can see that drifting is only going to be enjoyable for so long. And maybe the fact that I realize that means that it's already wearing a little thin.

Well damn. This entry certainly didn't go where I'd intended it to go.
Maybe next time I'll slay you with my attempts at humor.

Too Much

I'm back from Fort Worth.
It was such a fun weekend, but good times can't last forever and now I'm home to face a school week that's gonna be pretty hellish until Thursday afternoon and on top of that I'm sick. I don't know whether to blame my current crappy health on my sister (who was sniffling when I spent the night at her place on Thursday) or my, um, let's just refer to him as this guy I sleep with sometimes (who had no voice when I attempted to talk to him last Wednesday but seemed healthy enough when we were together Friday and Saturday night) or the fact that I spent most of the weekend drinking in smoke-filled bars and that's gotta take a toll on your immune system, especially when you're as out of practice as I have been lately.
At any rate, I'll try to type out a real update when I'm feeling better and have less reading to do.

Just for fun

Have you all seen this? I don't normally waste my time on things like this, but this game has been going around on several of the blogs I read and it's actually kind of amusing. More amusing than studying for my Drama Research midterm, at any rate.
What you do is Google "(your name) needs" and then list the funniest results. I know, this is so stupid, but I guess I'm easily amused tonight because it made me laugh.
Here's what came up with my name:
"Ashley needs an experienced family."
"Ashley needs to move into the wetland." [Swamps!! Yes! Let's go right now!]
"Ashley needs to be more realistic in her expectations." [Don't we all...]
"Ashley needs to chill and consider learning a second language...but she might want to master English first." [Haha, that's one of my favorites]
"Ashley needs to go: straight to Jesus Christ." [No thank you!]
"Ashley needs outlets for expressing herself to her peers."
"Ashley needs to gain confidence and "bee-lieve" in her God-given abilities." [Gag me]
"Ashley needs to do a little more research on her period, instead of assuming that "one size fits all" when it comes to historical England." [This research stuff, there's just no escaping it.]
"Ashley needs a lot of prayer." [Alright, I need to come to Jesus. I get it.]
"Ashley needs a ride to volleyball."
"Ashley needs to be reintroduced to the market-and that's what we're good at." [Then get on it, people. And I want my new and improved image to be less sweet and honest, more seductive and dangerous! But not slutty! And not bitchy!]
"Ashley needs to keep wearing sexy outfits like this one and even more revealing ones to show off her fabulous body." [Okay!]
"Ashley needs to take her medication, which she left at home."
"Ashley needs to have something in her mouth most of the time." [Haha. Ha. That's the best one by far.]

Alright, game over. Ashley needs to at least pretend to study for her midterm.

Told you I ramble!

One of the only things that sucks about studying theatre is that as a theatre scholar you don't always command a lot of respect. I cannot tell you how many times in my life I've told people I major in theatre and had their first response be something along the lines of "Oh awesome, that must be so much fun" followed closely by, "But what are you going to do with that?" Or, more often, they don't really say anything at all but I can tell what they're thinking. I usually just laugh it off, and if I'm in a good mood I'll explain all the various things you can do with a theatre degree. That question doesn't annoy me much anymore. What does annoy me, though, is when we theatre people don't get credit for all of the things we've accomplished. I graduated college summa cum laude, and as proud as that makes me its slightly tainted by the fact that I know there are people out there who will look at my degree and think, "Well, of course she did, she studied theatre. How hard can it be?" Well, let me just say here in this public forum that it can be HARD. Perhaps its difficult in a different way than a business or law degree is difficult, but hell, if it were that easy everyone would be graduating theatre departments with honors and they're not. No, it's not quantum physics. But I like to think that if that were my passion and that was what I'd chosen to devote my resources to, I would have graduated summa cum laude in that, too. That's beside the point, though, plus it's making me sound like a bragging ass so I'll stop. My point is, theatre has its own challenges and it's unfair to assume that all we theatre people do is lie around on the floor practicing breathing exercises and learning how to make ourselves up to look 75 years old (and anyone doing theatre realizes that even those things can be challenging in their own way).
Ever since starting graduate school I've realized more than ever exactly how underrated we really are. Theatre is such an incredibly broad field, and it's so interdisciplinary. To really understand theatre you have to have a very good grasp on a staggering amount of other subjects. I was thinking about this in my Contemporary World Theatre class tonight as we were discussing all the various feminist theories that influenced theatre in the '60s and '70s. To fully understand theatre it's not enough to just understand acting methods, directing methods, stagecraft, lighting and set and costume and makeup design, the roles of all the people that work front and back of the house, different theatre genres and styles of plays, play writing, and theatre history. Although that alone is enough to keep anybody busy for a lifetime. No, you also have to have a context of world history because you can never really understand a play unless you know why it was written when it was. You have to know philosophy (My God, do you have to know philosophy. This semester has definitely been a crash course in philosophy for me). You have to know psychology and attempt to understand why people act the way they do. You have to have a damn good working knowledge of English. And art history? You'd better know a lot about that as well. To understand any musical you obviously need to know music, and while we're on that subject let's not forget about dance. Oh, and understanding politics-and not just the politics of the United States-is a necessity. And sociology and anthropology...There are few other subjects I can think of that draw so directly on so many other subjects. I remember being a freshman and laughing about how Doc, the head of our theatre department, seemed to be able to have an intelligent discussion about almost any subject you could throw at him. Suddenly, I understand why!
It's enough to overwhelm me into a complete and total stupor. Then again, it makes me realize that there is no way this could ever, ever get old. Not with how much there is to discover. I suppose it's possible I'll burn out for other reasons, but never from boredom!

I should be studying for a Drama Research test and outlining my paper, but I've been having a hard time getting myself to study the past two weeks. It's hard for me to be truly productive unless I'm under pressure, but that's the case with most people, isn't it? I can't think of a single person I know who isn't for the most part a procrastinator.

In non-school related news, it's suddenly wedding madness around here! Within the past six weeks one of my good friends got married and four more got engaged (two of them to each other, so there have been three announced engagements total). And I'm expecting yet another engagement announcement from a friend sometime in the near future. It may end up being the Summer O' Weddings, and probably not the only Summer O' Weddings I'll end up having in the next few years, either. I guess I need to get serious about coming to terms with the fact that I am old enough to have friends that get married (and multiple friends that get married at that!). Actually, I'm really excited about it. I love weddings, mainly because I'm not old and jaded enough yet to have that "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" feeling. Any excuse to have a big party is fine by me! I'm especially excited about Katy's wedding. We went through so much together in our four years as roommates, and now I couldn't be happier for her. She's one of my very best friends in the entire world, and I really like the guy she's marrying, too (and let's be honest, how often does that happen?). Katy asked me to be in her bridal party tonight, and I accepted happily. I just hope this means I get to help throw the bachelorette party! Hehehe.

Oh, FYI, I'm going up to Fort Worth for the weekend. Technically I'm visiting for Kymberli's birthday, but it just so happens to be homecoming weekend at TCU so I guess it's sort of appropriate that I chose this weekend to go back and see everybody. This will probably be the last chance I get to see anyone in Fort Worth this semester (unless anyone comes down here) so if you're in Fort Worth we need to hang out.

First Post

Hi. So I now have a new blog here on Blogger. Bloggity-blog-blog-blog.
Remember when I used to hate Internet journals? Yeah, me too. That was mainly because I thought blogs were for bitchy high school girls who like to whine about how miserable their lives are. Actually, I still think that's who many blogs are for, but whatever. Blogging has come a long way since 2000 when I used to bitch about it all the time, let's put it that way.
I first started an online journal when I studied abroad in London as a way to keep in touch with everybody back home. It was quick, easy to do on the run, and I didn't have to spend a fortune on phone cards. So my journal started with a practical purpose and then kind of got addictive (obviously, as fifteen months later I'm still more or less keeping it up).
Why did I move to this new space? I don't know. It was 11:00 on a Monday night and I was bored but didn't feel like studying. Since I wasn't living in London anymore and hadn't been for over a year my old user name didn't apply and I was getting annoyed with it. Livejournal is for the above-mentioned whiny teenagers (I guess Blogger probably is, too, but I don't feel like I'm the oldest person in the world with a blogspot journal, and I like that). And I started realizing I'd like to use my journal to keep in touch with people again but I'd gradually gotten more personal there than I intended to and I was no longer comfortable sharing that journal with the entire world (which kind of defeats the whole purpose of writing online in the first place).
So that's how I got here. If you're one of the handful of people that actually read my old journal, don't worry. There will still be talk of phone sex and the stupid things people ask me at work and crazy neighbors and other people's lesbian makeout sessions...so really, this journal will be more or less exactly like the old one. Only new!
Anyway, I've been working on this thing instead of doing my reading for my theatre history class, but since class starts in an hour and a half it's probably time to quit procrastinating.