2013 bucket lists.

"I feel like this next year is going to go by so fast and next January we'll almost be done with school and I haven't done nearly enough things I've wanted to do by now." She said as we drove around town. 

"How about this. On New Years Eve we make lists of things we want to do this year. Less like resolutions and more like a sort of year long bucket list without the dying part." I said as I looked at the ocean. 

"The we report back to each other at the end of the year and see how much we've done? And then write a screenplay about it? 

"EXACTLY."

to the girl who...

To the girl who got everything she wants,

Well, I made it. 
I made it through the term. Made it through the physical and emotional stress. Made it through my grandmas illness. Made it through not being Masha. Made it through living with an unexpected roommate. Made it through. 

I'm empathetic. Everything that people feel, if I'm close enough to them I feel too. Sometimes its as if I take that pain or emotional anguish away from them. 

This term has been scary because everyone I know in Ashland is turning into everyone I know in Manhattan Beach. They know I'll always be there so they feel like they can walk all over me and I'll still be there to wipe the foot prints off of my face in the morning and clean the kitchen. 
I have also become more comfortable with them. More willing to fail and cry and act crazy around them. 
These things are good and bad. 

Furthermore, I am now officially getting my BFA. However, one of the most important people in the world to me, the person I started this all with will not be by my side. And the truth of the matter is, the complete and honest truth is: I haven't really been happy yet. I haven't been happy that I got in because she didn't. 
My mom suggested I go and get a massage because I looked pale and tense like I was going to pass out so I did. At three o'clock on Friday, the day the list was suppose to go up I lay face down on a massage table, mind racing. As she worked the knots out of my neck and shoulders my mind became more blank. I drifted somewhere else. A place where there weren't lists. 
Then it was over and as I got dressed I saw that my phone was buzzing. Eight texts. One email. The first and only text I cared about reading was: "I'm going to vomit" 
I immediately assumed that meant I didn't get in, not her. Or, better yet, that she wanted to vomit from excitement. 
Then I saw it and I was shocked. My heart felt like it had stopped beating rather than the quick beat it had kept all week long. 

I have to find a way to be happy about it. In the long run, this is two years out of our lives. I remember when my biggest issue was me being upset I didn't get the lead in a horrible musical and now look. Four years later and I'm better off without it. 
I hope that's how it is for her. 

i want to go home and sleep and eat and sleep and sleep and eat and take long baths and sleep and sleep.

I'm off my game. 


I am super off my game. 



I can buy alcohol now but I am super off my game. 



Fall 2012. Not a good term.

Hi my name is Sarah and I'm playing the part of the girl that is fine.

I cannot rationalize people who have no regard for other peoples feelings. 
I'm sick of everyone saying, "Its acting, its professional, its a play." 

I always regard peoples feelings and make sure everyone is comfortable with things. Because to me acting just too real to disregard someone elses feelings. 

Its fucking rude is what it is. 

So congrats to you, I'm so glad THIS is the first time you're going to act on impulse but to be it seems completely manipulative and rude. 


A sad part of the story is that I could not normalize my emotions until I had a glass of wine. With that glass of wine and another and another and another and another, I began to swallow everything I wanted to say. 

But its like we were talking about last night before the party. I can't say what I really want to say in front on so many people. 

I wish I could cry and curl up on the stairs without people looking at me like I'm insane. Like I'm in the wrong. 
I just want my emotions to be validated and not ignored. 

easily one of the worst things ever is waking up in the morning extremely hungover knowing you said things last night you shouldn't have said and don't even really mean but when you're mad you say things just to say them because you just want to feel something. 

yeah. 
worst feeling ever.

SO AM I JUST SUPPOSE TO BE MAD ALL TERM OR SOMETHING?

BECAUSE I WILL BE IF PEOPLE KEEP BEING STUPID.

how do you watch someone disappear from far way?

how do you watch someone disappear from far way? 
the person who has listened, has loved, has experienced a full life. 
slowly her body that use to do the splits on the front lawn of the same house she raised six children, the body that gave birth to those children and loved, and fed and took care of so many others withers away.
her mind that opened my mind to the beauty of simplicity, the amount people deserve to be loved and a fondness of artichokes begins to slip away, the memories of every moment floating around her head like a big cumulonimbus cloud waiting for her to reach, and draw them back in. 
She tries to reach higher, to cling longer but her body says no even though she can feel so much love. 

hold on. 
Just a little longer. 
please. 

I love being alone. 

however, 
there is nothing worse than sitting alone on a Thursday night while everyone else is off making art. 

the thing is my heart is broken.

I sat on my back deck after a confusing conversation looking out at the tree in my backyard. I tried to say what was true but they didn't get it. It just seemed dramatic to them.

It's like when Masha says, "I love- I love- I love" Why does she say it three times? because she doesn't know that she truly means it until the third one.

I gave it everything I had. I gave her everything I have. I gave it so much.

So much of myself. I use to not be able to give anything and now I give too much.

The silver lining is at least one person that truly deserves to be cast got it. And she sat through three shows that she could have easily done but didn't get the chance to. And that's worth it. That's worth everything.

The irony of it all is I'm a master at rejection. Just not this time. This time I cared too much.

You suddenly discover that you don't really know anything.

I'm sitting in my bed at home watching the trees outside sway in the breeze. 

I just finished reading my favorite part of Three Sisters out loud to myself and my whole body is shaking. I don't know why exactly I'm having such a reaction to this scene but maybe because it makes so much sense? I was talking through my monologue and suddenly realized there were tears in my eyes and my heart was beating fast. 

This is the kind of stuff that I want to work on. 

okay, thanks?

Writing is weird. 

When I have to do it I can't, when I need to do it I don't, and when I don't have to I do. 

Went to Palm Springs with my friends for a night. Wore my bathing suit. A drunken friend said, "You're body is just so much better now." 

This is a tricky compliment. True, all of my pent-up energy has been put into slimming down and toning up. But it also means there was a time when it wasn't. 

I am baffled by attraction and why people feel the things they do and what it really has to do with anything. 

Especially being such an observer this summer. 

near the place

I think its that I get so use to everything being the same that when it changes its a shock. 

Or maybe its because things have changed ever so gradually that its as if I'm looking in a mirror for the first time in a year. 

I have a constant need to have "everything fall into place." It has been a constant obsession of mine for years. 

That's not possible. Things can fall into place little by little, piece by piece but life would be oh so uninteresting if everything fell into place. 

There would be no chase. 

No drive. 

back in the 90266

Being back is odd. My body has a way of melting into my own bed when I get home. I feel so physically exhausted from this year, from the shows, from cleaning a whole apartment by myself, from being so far away from you. 

I'm glad to be home, to the sunshine and the cool breeze and my friends who fascinate me as their mouths move a million miles a minute. I lay curled up in a ball last night watching them say things, smiling to myself because it was like an old song I hadn't heard in quite sometime.

So much happened this year. 

I realized I capable of way more than I ever thought. 

I essentially lost a friend to her relationship and a filthy apartment. Or maybe we just grew apart. Either way, she doesn't give a shit.

I became the listener, not the talker. 

I realized how beautiful the sky was and how overwhelmingly full life has the potential of being. 

I am a lot smarter than I thought I was. 

I feel physically drawn to people and places that I need to go. 

I care more now than I ever have. 

I love harder than I thought I could. 

My voice sounds different. 

My body feels different. 

.....woooooo.....summer 2012

Yesterday was fun because we went on a hike but today is dreadfully boring. 

After such a hectic term sitting around doing nothing is not fun. 

I wish I was on Catalina. 

But I can't stop thinking fun things are going to HAPPEN.

I woke up feeling awesome and happy about everything and throughout the day I got more and more down in the dumps.  Maybe I get like this when things end. But its never been like this.

I'm moving out of my shitty apartment in over a week and I have no idea where I'm going to move all my stuff to, because I don't have a place.

 Every time I clean something it gets dirty again. 

And the worst part is I'm still upset over this job I didn't get months ago. Why am I still so upset about it? He says I'm upset because I would have been good at it and because I pictured myself there. I just want an adventure I just want to do something with myself this summer other than sit behind that cramped desk at the spa and answer phones. I want to do something fulfilling. Everyone around me planned ahead and now I'm stuck with one option and I can't help up sit on my computer looking at pictures of the people going to paradise instead of me. 

But this isn't the me I like. I shouldn't sit and pout about not getting that job, I'm not going to get thousands of jobs in my lifetime. I just need to get out of this filthy shit hole that shallows me up every time I come home.

things are looking up.

tomorrow would have been the day. 

oh I wish I was on Catalina Island.

But also, everything is really great here. 

I wish I could write more but I have too much to do. 

My sink is plugged and I don't know how it happened but schools almost out and we might get the house.

15 more days.

Crossing every possible finger and toe for this house......

I need to get outta here.

is this one of those times you say, "it is what it is" ?

My audition came and went. 

Everything was on my mind and as I walked into the ever-so familiar theatre I felt like a guest, how I should have felt Fall 2011. Then, it was just another audition. I didn't feel nervous at all and it reflected in the fact that I didn't get in. 

This time it felt like even my bones were shaking as I stood in the lobby with a bunch of people smiling at me.

I wish they weren't looking at me. Sometimes I feel like those looks are the ones waiting for me to fail. 

"You have no reason to be nervous." 

of COURSE I do. but you don't understand that because you got in. 

I couldn't think straight as I fumbled for my resume and it stuck to my fingers as I gave it to them. 

who was this person? I have never been like this in an audition ever. Auditioning is what I'm good at. 

I began my first piece fine and then all of the sudden it all slipped away. I was standing there, biggest audition so far, in my life, making shit up. I knew he knew. All this talk of me being bad at memorizing lines got in my head, stupid naive grin made my blood boil, and the unpleasant conversation I had too close before my audition was repeating in my head, and the fact I don't know where I'm living and the idea that if this doesn't work out I have to leave..... ALL OF IT. But how can I sit here and talk about all the things distracting me when all of that is suppose to melt away when I'm acting. That's why I love it. 

So I put that into my second piece. I felt like I was going to throw up still but the character is pregnant so it kinda worked. I did it and it was fine. Maybe even good at least? 

As I walked from the room I couldn't help but give the people in the room a look as though I was satisfied with what just happened in there. 

man, if they could only see how great I am at not bursting into tears right now I would get in for sure. 

I felt the tears somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach as I brushed off how I was really feeling to someone who completely understands everything and who I really didn't need to lie to. But I felt like I let her down too. 

My body ached and trembled as I reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to his house. I wished that everyone hadn't been SO SURE everything would be fine. 

My eyes poured what felt like too many tears, maybe left over tears from Spring 2012 when moments after they found out their good news I had only a moment to pull myself together to be proud of people that I deeply envied. 

By the time I got to her house all I needed was a stiff drink. 

That isn't how I wanted things to be. By any stretch of the imagination. 

So I guess, we'll see. 

I should start living before I die.

Lately its been hard for me to comprehend people being depressed. 

A few weeks ago I had a night where a hole of loneliness swallowed me whole but the next morning it spat me right back out. There is no sense in being sad. I mean really, if you think about it. 

I saw a play on Friday night at midnight that affected [effected?] [My number one struggle in life is being able to explain the difference between the words 'effect' and 'affect'. And once I realized THAT was my biggest struggle, I felt lucky.] But anyway, this play, I related to this woman and the things people were saying. Listening and observing people. its why I got into theatre.

She said in the play that she always had this mentality that you had to get through a bunch of hard stuff before you could start living. Its the same thing with people saying, "the real world." Because it always makes me wonder, well what is this? the fake world? 

But I had so many moments this weekend that I thought, "THIS IS MY LIFE AND I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT." 

So I should and I will. 

[I just want the people I love to be on the same bandwagon as me.]

my dreams are bigger than this town.

To love someone so hard it hurts. 

To care about one thing so much and doubt everything except for it. 

To enjoy odd moments, the in betweens. 

I need to do something now.

no man is an island.

one month later my heart still breaks when I think about my summer and how much I wish I could be on that island. Everyone around me has a clear idea of what they're doing and its something exciting.
I'm jealous.

This morning he pointed out to be how much I've changed and I hadn't even realized how much I have changed until that moment. 

My eyes filled with tears mourning this person that I was. An emotionally vacant, unavailable person who wanted to see the world and didn't care as hard. 

Now it seems as though I care too much. I love too hard. 

I keep looking at certain people and finding myself feel an overwhelming surge of love for them. Love is the only way I know how to describe the feeling. 

I did a scene in acting class that went poorly but at the same time it was the most real I felt in a long time acting because I feel the exact same way the whore Cherie does. 

"That's just it! Maybe, I don't know what love is. Maybe I'm expecting it to be something it ain't. I just feel that regardless of what you feel for some guy you gotta feel....and I don't know how to put it into words but you gotta feel like.... he respects you. Yeah. That's what I mean."

If I was on that island I think I would be able to find a balance between who I am and who I was.

but who knows. Maybe I'm wrong. 

a series of events....

The greatest feeling is slipping between newly clean sheets and staying there for hours. 

I can feel my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw tensing under the pressure of everything. 

This show has reminded me why I want to be an actor. and how I want to be an actor and not a singer. and how thankful I am I decided to study just acting and not follow through with musical theatre like I wanted to when I was 17. 

Lately I have been thinking a lot about 17 year old me. Who I was, and who I wanted to be. I am now sure that I completely and totally underestimated myself when I was 17. 

The girl under the lamppost who looked up at the sky and thought she saw everything but really didn't see anything at all.

do the twist.

I want to get all dressed up, put on red lipstick, have someone buy me drinks and do the twist. But despite years of believing I was born in the wrong era [as every believes at least once in their life] I have come to realize that I was born at the exact right time. Because I can still get dressed up and put on red lipstick and do the twist.

I've been feeling this mounting excitement for the future. I am still living in the present but in the back of my mind, picturing who I will be in five years gives me a thrill few things can.

[I really just want to be twenty-one already.]

the mouth of a hollow tree.

People are making dresses, custom made dresses for me and I feel guilty about my success as I look at the long face[s] of people I'm close to.

I need to focus on what I came here to do and not be concerned with affection and have everything be exactly as I want it to be.

The problem is, I am capable of becoming that person again. The kind of person that desperately wants tomato soup when she's sick but doesn't ask for help because she doesn't want to be a bother and doesn't want to be taken care of.

If I were to be truthful, I would say I feel like a fool chasing a fool.

Because I feel my feet moving backwards, stepping into that place, that hollow tree trunk that I use to always be.

wouldn't that be funny if it were true?

my bones have become so cold, and my skin so white that it seems like years ago that I would lay on the concrete during lunch hour tanning my legs. [I suppose because it was years ago]
The weather is making my future plans for me.

I am far too influenced by the color of the sky to have any regard for other perks of living anywhere else.

I can't begin to censor myself again. I'm not that person any more. I've made damn well sure not to be that person.

I can't remember the last time I cried out of happiness. Except this morning.
"you'll always be a little sliver...."
the little things.
the littlest things.

heres to making plans.

My body aches in the way that it knows its being productive.
Already this week has been going on forever. I feel more full of ideas and drive then I ever have before.
especially because I have this goal, a legitimate goal and it feels like it may actually happen.

I've been proud of myself lately.
[But proud? how could I be proud I haven't done anything yet]
Yes, proud.
For reasons I can't even actually pin point.
Going home, seeing what is there, made me like who I am. Here or there.
I've never been self-loathing. [well I suppose maybe in 8th or 9th grade we all go through a self-loathing phase]But right now, for some strange reason I like who I am the most.
I think perhaps its that I am hyper-aware of nearly every aspect of my life. Which could be dangerous? For now, its helpful.
I care more. About everything.
Its almost intimidating how much I care about the things I care about.

Also, I've been sleeping obscenely well.
I think sleep makes you a better person.

lets not count sheep. lets count something else.

"So let me get this straight.... You count memories instead of sheep?"
"That's right. What else can you do when you're old."

I looked at the sunken eyes of my best friend as I helped her out of the hospital bed. Wires and tubes were sticking out her and she looked older than I had ever seen her.

"Bust me out of this place, will ya kid?"

I couldn't of course, not without discharge papers and her medicine, but I wanted nothing more but to steal that wheelchair and run her down the hall, past the nurses station and safely to the elevator. I wanted to be able to make her laugh again because she seemed so weak and so sad.

I use to think growing old was an odd thing. But now I'm convinced its just the being old part. Its like, you have all of this wisdom and all of this knowledge but you can't really do anything because your body won't let you.
I've been trying not to think about all the things shes not going to see. I just try to focus on all the things she has seen.

the sky looks like Ethan Frome.

We walked to Safeway in the rain. The more that came flying out of my mouth the faster we walked. I realized how close we were. Especially because I can say anything to her and I know she won't think its dumb. Especially when she said I was one of her best friends.

This weekend. It happened three times. People who I feel so close to called me their best friends and I wanted to turn to them and squeeze them and say, "YOU MEAN IT?! YOU REALLY MEAN IT?!!!" [well I suppose I did that to one of them]

Then later I sat on a couch with a platonic boy friend who I care about more than words can describe and I looked around at the scene and audibly sighed:
"What is it love?"
"Its just that I was just thinking about my two lives"
"What do you mean?"
"The person I am when I'm here and the person I am when I'm there."
"I can only assume that they are both wonderful people."

bullshitty shit.

I'm going crazy even though I'm almost done with all the bullshit. I have a meeting with my advisor/director/professor tomorrow. He said he needed to discuss things with me and I know what. My grades are JUST BARELY keeping me in. I wish I cared more about the classes that aren't for the major but I don't. I feel like I've heard it all before and that the assignments are just busy-work bullshit I've already done.
I feels like a waste of time.
But what I'm getting here isn't a waste of time.
I'm becoming the person I want to be. I'm realizing things about myself now that I didn't even imagine I would think about for years.

I'm just stressed about the conversation that hasn't happened yet.

TIMES LIKE THIS:

Things are crazy.
I'm the leading lady in a musical.
I didn't think that was ever going to be a thing.
but,
WHAT?????

The past few years I've been saying, "This year is going to be my year" without really believing it.
But this year I believed it and I wanted it bad enough.

I BARELY believe it yet.

Nice knowing you, nice meeting you.

I always have such a calm, 'whatever' attitude going into it. 'Well if I don't get into this one, there's always next year.'
See but then, they make you fall in love with a fictional human being just a little bit. and now I have to fall back in love with another fictional person and pretend that the ball of intestines in my body doesn't exist.
It is torture that they wait to put it up.




In all honesty though, it will not be the end of the world if I don't get it. I wasn't expecting this to begin with. I never thought I would have the opportunity to be a leading lady in a musical ever again so perhaps its just that idea that is making my heart find its way somewhere in my throat.

The heart in the throat thing? that is also because someone who is just as talented as me keeps getting over looked and its infuriating.I don't know what to say anymore because it makes me so mad.
so.
four days.
okay.

gray or blue.

yesterday marked one year of being with some guy that I love.

"I finally know why I said 'you look beautiful in the dark' all those months ago."
"Why?"
"Because the light from outside your window was hitting your face and made these beautiful shadows near your eyes and mouth. And you were so close to me and it was just exactly where I wanted to be"

I only say true things more than once.

I realized that for the first time in my whole life, I have more than two truly great girl friends.

This never seemed like a necessary thing in my life that I was missing. I've always had Jill and Danielle and then maybe one other but the rest of my confidants were always guys.

I never realized what I was missing.
SO THERE'S THAT.

In other news, my interview went well.
So now I wait.

My chest feels full. I feel weighed down with his worries but I don't mind. I really never believed I could love some one this much right now. I know I say that a lot, but its because its true.

I only say true things more than once.

[I still get a kick outta you calling me your best friend.]

[I still get a kick outta you calling me your best friend.]

Sunday Kind of Love

Last night for a fleeting moment, "what could be" flashed before my eyes. and I liked what I saw.

The single cup of jungle juice I drank went straight to my head. That coupled with a strange happiness that seemed to come out of nowhere.

I've never really just wanted to be near someone just because they're that someone until now. I mean, not really.

THIS IS ME ANNOYED.

I AM SO SICK OF GEN-EDS.

My one solace is the script analysis class I TA for.
I am learning more in that class than anything else.

[other than sign language. duh]

I JUST WANT TO BE A THEATRE MAJOR THAT TAKES THEATRE MAJOR CLASSES.

ooh la la by faces [theme song of the moment]

The greatest thinkers and writers only become the greatest thinkers and writers through turmoil and angst. If you're actually happy and fulfilled that, my friends is when things get tricky.

My sociology professor said something along those lines.
then I said that to myself as I tried to wipe the grin off my face when though I was coughing and my nose was running.

I'm doing good work in the play.
My relationship is the easiest thing in the world.
It isn't raining or snowing.

I am happy. Really, honestly happy. And all it took was for me to say everything on my mind and to go to acupuncture.

writers block maybe?

The cereal aisle blurred in front of me as I reached towards the Honey Comb to steady myself.
"You alright dear?" an older man asked skeptically.
He probably things I'm drunk, I thought to myself as I took a deep breath and nodded my head.
I wasn't in fact drunk, but I felt like I needed to sit down.


I haven't been able to write. Its not for lack of trying, I have been trying. I just don't feel as good as I use to after I write. Perhaps its ever since things that were staggeringly real to me were called out as unrealistic in the realm of writing.

This morning I found myself curled into a ball, wearing a big t-shirt and feeling utterly content. He walked in and looked at me that way that he does.
"I love you" he whispered.

My surroundings spun again as I made the long journey two blocks home.

white blank page.

There are so many things i want to,

write,
say,
scream,
yell,
kick,
punch,
cry,

but I can't.

the lost boys and Wendy Bird.

Her hair smelled like second-hand cigarette smoke as she walked away from the house. The cold air stung her face and everything else stung too.

"I just want to be on an island," surprising herself even as she realized she said it out loud to the night. "And now I talk to myself?"

She cleared her throat and wiped away the lingering tears from their frustrating, circular conversation.

The trouble was she found herself justifying it in her mind.

At twenty, this was not something that she wanted herself or something she necessarily believed in. Yet here she was. She also promised herself she would never feel for a man child ever again. But there would always be the draw of the cheap laughs and the immature jokes she always thought, but didn't say out loud. It kept her twenty and grounded. She couldn't help but think she was holding him back.

After all, as soon as Wendy came around they realized they longed for a mother and real clothes. But Peter never wanted that for himself. He wanted to always be a boy and always have fun.

“But where do you live mostly now?"
"With the lost boys."
"Who are they?"
"They are the children who fall out of their perambulators when the nurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed in seven days they are sent far away to the Neverland to defray expanses. I'm captain."
"What fun it must be!"
Yes," said cunning Peter, "but we are rather lonely. You see we have no female companionship."
"Are none of the others girls?"
"Oh no. Girls, you know, are much too clever to fall out of their prams.”

reflecting light

I forgot about my slight OCD until last night and this morning.
But I escaped it and ate a donut.

I want to sleep all day.
My eyes are tired.

well,

I applied. Finally. after two years of wanting to. I came to the realization that weird things were holding me back from not applying. I'm twenty. I should still do the things I want to do and being on an island for the whole summer is one of them. I miss being in acting class. Even an acting class that doesn't necessarily challenge me as much as I wanted. But this one would. I want someone to challenge me and believe in me. I want to be validated. How have I not picked my audition pieces yet? This is why I am here. to get into the program....
This weekend was such a blow to my ego. I stood by as though invisible at two different parties as the freshman girls I babysat got hit on by everyone in the room. I clearly don't need to be hit on. But being the invisible mom, that felt just great. And these girls are my competition.

Last night I told him my deepest darkest secret.
then whispered, "I am only telling you this because you're my best friend."

or more gently, que sera, sera.

I talk too much talk.
Perhaps this, this my dear is why we are together and why this works.

You and I, we, are opposite in our communication skills.
I talk too much. I say every single solitary thought that comes to mind the second I think it.
You say too little. I watch you almost say things and stop yourself.

Both things could use improvement.

and we do that together?
The milk won't go sour for a few more years. so we got plenty of time. and if it goes sour before then, who the fuck cares.

OR, more gently:
Que sera, sera.

this is the story of my red right ankle.

My lack of trust is beginning to bite back.
This is my fault.

I never thought my greatest fear would be to have my heart broken.

but that is the person I've become:

The kind of person who loves too hard, cares too much, so much so that I can't willingly allow myself to believe that I can trust someone with the fist size, beating mass of ventricles and valves that now, in this past year, I can feel racing in my chest.

you are my coffee spoon.

"why are you so nice to me?"
"because I sorta like you I guess."
"but why?"

the new candle I brought back flickered and cast a peculiar shadow on his face.


"because I just do."

copperBOOM

not to flatter myself too much, but I AM Lorelai Gilmore. It is beginning to freak me out and I don't know how I became her.

Spent the day in bed for some quality thinking time. I am NOT slipping back into my old habits, yesterday was just very exhausting and full of children and cleaning up messes and reminders of things.

I want school to start again, and I want to be home, [did I just call school home?] and I want to start making plans.

I am Lorelai, hear me roar.


almost time to say by to this home for five months.

and while you were growing older, they were busy growing older too.

2011

January.

I found myself still in love with someone that I thought I wasn’t in love with at all. At midnight I looked around wanting someone to kiss, wanting him to kiss but he was with another girl in a different part of town kissing her. There was a small part of me that ended things with the boy I was dating up at school so I could be with the boy waiting at home. The only problem was, he wasn’t waiting. For the first time in a long time I began to actually consider someone else. As in, allowing myself to be in a relationship. This was when the ‘sick’ first happened. I remember staying in my room for over 48 hours because my phone was broken and because I couldn’t move. I was glued to my bed in a pile of snot and my head was throbbing and aching. This was when I met my swollen lymph node. I wanted to go on a date, a real date. I wanted to have a decent conversation.

February.

After the disappointment of Winter Break, I made pancakes with the boy I broke up with for the other boy. We sat in the kitchen of the dorm and ate nutella and pancakes and I remembered how good it was to laugh with you. I noticed a boy with glasses that I met on the first night of school shuffle by on the way to his dorm. The Vagina Monologues and the book CUNT. I found myself more open about talking about things. I stopped hanging out with the pancake boy and focused my energy on talking to the boy with the glasses. He was resistant and standoffish. I judged with cigarette smoking. But he intrigued me. He kept blowing me off and I kept blowing him off until finally we got coffee. I wasn’t that interested. I just wanted to have a decent conversation. One day after class I took matters into my own hands. “We should drink this weekend.” We stayed up most of the night talking and drinking until finally, he kissed me. The next morning I noticed he left his phone drunkenly on my floor and we awkwardly met at the library. As I gave him back his phone I remember distinctly thinking, “Well, never going to hang out with him again.” But I did. First callback. I held my own.

March.

I began to allow people to depend on me too much, in the bad kind of way. I hated one of my friendships more than I could even describe. Maybe it was because my actual friend didn’t eat in the dining hall anymore and I didn’t want to eat alone. We left for spring break. We had “the talk” before we left but I didn’t really believe you. I didn’t think you actually wanted to be with me. But we were together whether I understood it or not. You made me laugh so, that worked. When I came back and you were flaky again I almost gave up. Then you decided you like laying at the foot of the bed with me. And I agreed. There was even a mixed CD involved that you slid over to me in a shy way as we sat tangled in my bed.

April.

You stayed the whole night for the first time. I didn’t mind sharing the tiny bed with you. I watched the rehearsal process. I was enthralled and frustrated at the same time. I wanted to be up there. But I was also finally ‘cool’. People who I had known the names of for months finally recognized me as a functioning member of the department. Which was exciting and incredibly lame. They had to know I was good enough to be an understudy before I could be ‘cool’. When you wouldn’t flake on me I would recount the night’s rehearsal to you. I began to get more and more annoyed with your tardiness and began to think I deserved better. It was clear I was no longer friends with one of my first friends here. That was obvious when I received a hate email detailing how awful I was for not loving him back. After all the flakiness you started to pull through. The nights we spent alone in my room began the construction of our island together.

May.

I hated listening to everyone talk about Acting II auditions because I knew I should be auditioning. WE should have been auditioning. I talked to my acting professor about it and he said if he were in the room for auditions for Acting I things would be very, very different. I was floored, flattered and furious. I was so jealous all the time and just wanted to burst every time anyone said something about the acting program or class or their audition pieces. But I was your girlfriend. And I liked that. Smoothie night…. I began to love our friendship and ignore the ones at home. I began to consider the most abstract form of art and found the first tears in a long time rolling down my cheeks in the art history lecture hall. I decided to chop off all my hair… but not yet. Noticed the lump in my neck.

June.

My heart began to sink. I felt more and more like Penny Lane with her uncertainty and mixed feelings. I knew if we had just a little longer things could really begin. But I was leaving the circus, and returning to something that I knew would be unfulfilling. We said goodbye in front of the airport and it felt like I would be seeing you in an hour. More goodbyes. Decisions and plans for next year set. I watched Ashland disappear in the cold rain and didn’t feel like I was leaving. When we got to the bay it hit me. I chopped most of my hair off. Only one person didn’t like it but I realized I stopped caring about that person’s opinion about me. We improved again and DESTROYED the seniors. We still had it and it was the only thing I really missed. I didn’t want to be needy but you never called. I didn’t feel like I was in a relationship.

July.

Anywhere but here. I was bored out of my mind, sad and lonely. My friends were different. But I made money and slept. Saw movies by myself. Fourth of July grossed me out. I began to slyly question my friends about relationships. They all shocked me with their answers. I realized the amount of weight I had gained in a month. The sickness began to eat away at me. I hated not knowing what was wrong. The best part of my day became my Oceanography class, which shocked me more than anyone could realize. My friends began to show glimmers of their old selves. But I just wanted to be alone.

August.

Stuck in a strange in between. My body ached and I didn’t know how to explain it to anyone. I found myself embarrassed, mortified even that I was thinking certain thoughts. But we had an apartment and I imagined moving in and being free and cooking my own food and that idea made me too happy. People that I was never very close to or honest with became the people that I wanted to spend all my time with. I looked at him sitting in the drivers seat, proud, with a year to do whatever he pleased and I envied him. All I wanted to do was pack a bag and leave. Babysitting. A woman at the coffee shop told me my children were beautiful. I looked at her, laughed and didn’t even correct her because the thought of me being a mother now was such a ridiculous notion. I looked out the window of the spa and thought about all the things I wanted to do. We drove and sat at the diner for hours talking about things I hadn’t thought about since the last time we were there. I liked talking.

September.

My shirt clung to my body as I walked up the street to his house. It was hot and I grew nervous as I approached. When I saw him it was different. Not bad different. My dad helped me move into the apartment and quietly left. Before he did I noticed his unhappiness and it began to bug me. I couldn’t believe I lived in an apartment with my best friend with my boyfriend a block away and with two weeks to do nothing before school started. He came up behind me as I did dishes and pulled me in close to dance. We danced in the kitchen and I thought, perhaps I was falling in love with him. Then that night... I couldn’t deal with it anymore and we ended things. I couldn’t believe it was over. I felt empty and awful. It was a hasty decision but he wasn’t treating me the way I should be treated. I went underground for a week and couldn’t get out of bed. I called him over the night before school started in hopes to calmly discuss our friendship and where we were leaving things. I ended up yelling at him. Auditions. Best audition of my life. Then callbacks. Then my name on the list. I stood there, mouth gaping open and out of the corner of my eye I saw him and wanted him to kiss me and tell me I deserved it. He didn’t. We went to that party, the gross party with our neighbors and I realized I was doing this all wrong. I wasn’t the silly noncommittal person I use to be. He came over and he stayed.

October.

We got back together after five seconds apart. Dog Sees God. Feeling like I had shit to prove. Then I realized I didn’t. I weighed myself for the first time in a month and realized I had lost fifteen pounds…doing nothing. I hated going to house parties. I felt uncomfortable there. I loved Sierra, Stephanie and Sazi. We had that date and your mind was somewhere else. Tech. Dog. Tots.

November.

I turned twenty. The show came and went in a shockingly fast way. I missed it before we even closed. I lost five more pounds. It was as if this weight was just falling off. I auditioned for Midsummer and it went well. Way better than I imagined. At callbacks I got jealous. Its where it began. Cast list, my name was there but hers wasn’t and I felt like someone had fed me rocks. I needed to get away. Thanksgiving was interesting. Reminded more and more of the two people in my life that should not be together. I slept and babysat and didn’t eat. When I came back things made more sense.

December.

Jealously ate away at me for no good reason. I couldn’t believe that I was still thinking about how badly I wanted to be in the sequence. I couldn’t handle things, I felt as though I was losing grip on everything I use to understand. It all became so scary. Feeling things. Feeling everything. Allowing myself to depend on someone even though ever fiber of my being was telling me not to. I waited for him to fuck it up. Then somehow I began to believe him, probably because I started believing myself.

I want to be a better person this year.

I want to only be happy because being upset is a waste of time.

I want to follow through.

I want to be hopeful again.