Oh boy. I don't like journaling much anymore.

I haven't even started them yet.

100 for Francesca's workshop. I worked and got notes; too bad the ADD kicked in and I'm pretty sure she looked mad because I kept like...spacing when she gave me notes. I must've had the hugest douchey, lackadaisical face on me. Like, completely blank. Sucky deal, but whatevs. I had fun.

She makes me nervous and she has weird hair. I like Aladren's methods more.

SOC about pretentiousness and other things. Good read, I must say:

"I can feel myself becoming pretentious. I don't like where this is going; I honestly don't. I hope I can change, cause I was liking who I was becoming for a few minutes. It was nice. I think I'm surrounding myself with better people who I'm trying to be the real me around. I'm happy I'm finding my voice writing-wise, but you know what? I'd love for that to match the exterior.

I hope God is one sick fuck, or I won't be getting into heaven. For my sake.

Do I sound like Ari See? What a pathetic fuck. I'm just glad I didn't end up like that. God.

STOP COMPLAINING, YOU CUNT.

I want to start the mainstage. I remember freshman year, Ari used to write about 'what inspired her that day.' I mean, GOD. You can't be inspired every day, can you? Stimulation overload.

On Saturday, I went to help my Mema do crap cause she got out of the hospital. I found out that my rich, smart, liberal aunt and uncle would be there. It got me really nervous. They are articulate in conversations, and I want to throw words up when I'm around people like that. They were talking about the bajillion places they've traveled recently, and how my cousin is doing really well and traveling, and I freaked out. So I didn't say anything. Neither did my mother; I guess she realized her life fails as much as mine does compared to them right now.

When I did talk, I sounded like a fucking imbecile. And plus I didn't have any makeup, perfume, and didn't shower that day cause I thought I didn't have to impress anyone. God fucking damnit. I HATE THAT. I choke up for wanting to sound smarter but end up looking like more of an asshole in the end? What IS that? Jesus in heaven.

Speaking of him/her/it, I still need to formulate all of THOSE opinions. Like, you know ones that I've been previously pretty ambiv about. Like legit? What do you care about me caring about something? What's your problem? Go pray or not pray and enjoy your life, and go away. No of your business, douche.

Is it stupid that I feel stupid for believing in something? That I feel it's useless? That I'll be psychologically bullied into buying into my friends' beliefs or eventually find out that what I've invested good thinking time in is all a lie? That it's just residual catholic guilt I haven't shaken off yet?

And fucking all of these TRAGEDIES. God, really. I feel like helping people around me first before being a maverick and going on some power trip to save the world. Why would you do that? It's SO dumb.

I guess that's why we have art. It's therapeutic and cathartic and cleansing and I really like it a lot. If I could help one person, that would be great.

Then what will dramaturgy do to help people? How will massaging my ego through writing and expanding upon my opinions and knowledge help any person other than myself? I am REALLY fucking selfish. At least with artists, they're helping people with their brain farts or masterpieces. In some way. It's beautiful. I love art. It's fucking awesome.

I feel that if I ever wanted to go through my like...soul to find something to create, I feel it's cut off and that I hinder impulses. Because I know that the end result won't be good enough.

But what's good enough? I don't understand how it can just come out of you. How do you do that?

I feel TEARS welling up in my eyes. What the hell is this? Some chickflick bullshit?

I remember seeing Brian O'Mahoney's status once saying the lyrics from the dresden dolls song night reconnaissance. it was something like 'there's nothing more cruel than children who come from good homes.'

That pisses me off SO much. Amanda Palmer FAIL. One, you're like thirty, shut the fuck up. Two, YOU ARE SO PRETENTIOUS. What the eff is WRONG with you?

Why does pretentiousness bother me so much?

I love my friends. Most of them.

I want to keep writing. I don't know if I should.

I'll save it for later. I like these self-talks.

You're disgusting and no one and no one will ever love you.

I'm pretty sure that sentence ^^^ was the backstory of why I suck and why I say I suck. It happens.

Shit happens. Rhyme."

AND END SOC!

MY 200TH BLOG POOOOOST!

Wooooooooooot, I'm super cool.


100 for staying after for Matt's.


He isn't a director, and he's a hardass. But that's Matt, the techie bastard.

And Katelyn Covington is legit ME freshman year.

Matt: "Katelyn, can you get the extension cord from the booth?"
Katelyn: "Okay. This booth?" *points to SR wing*
M: "No, the one in the back of the house."
K: "Oh, okay!"
Two minutes later.
K: "Is this orange cordy thing okay?"
Matt looks at me. "That's so you your freshman year."


She's freaking awesome. I'm not even being sarcastic.


Happy Holidizzles!

So, I'm Matt's new SM.

100 for staying after for that.

Ohboyohboy. Have you joined the googlegroup yet, Aladren?

Doing things and shmings

Participation (today): 100 for researching some shows for Gabe; some fail, some don't (hopefully). There really aren't that many to choose from. But then again, I haven't thoroughly gone through mti.com. It'll happen tomorrow.

-100 for yesterday, for light-opping the dance show that morning.

-100 for Monday, for staying after. I'll get to that ENTIRE situation later.

-100 for Friday, for staying after and assissting Ally with FOH (did I already put that?).

Okay. Sensory OVERLOAD; what I get from this is basically Callidorus wants his chick, but Ballio's the procurer of the hoes. I think 15 minae have already been paid, but they need to get the other five; Pseudolus is helping him. Calli's been scrounging for money everywhere, so I think they turn to Simo (daddy) and Callipho (mommy)?


I know that if Pseudy does what he's supposed to (by helping Callidorus) he'll be set free; and if he doens't, he'll die. Amirite?


Wow, what an incredibly shitty journal.


I honestly need a hard copy of this, really, really badly. Like...I can read on hte interwebs, it's so distracting. I hate it. I'll ask for one tomorrow; hopefully there's one at school I could use.

Dance show.

You've got some competish.


100 for working front-of-house with Ally.

Pseudlyweudly

He's just a funny fucker, isn't he?

Participation: 89


Getting the general gist of what's going down, but it's pretty hard to understand with the huuuuuuuuge diction barrier and fucked up Ss. Just read the first scene, I'll finish it this weekend, though.

So Caillidorus (son of Simo) is super, super upset because he fell in love with this chick, and that she was getting sold to a millitary officer, even though the deal wasn't 100 percent sealed. He wants to kill himself and stuff, so Pseudolus (his father's servant) wants to stop it, for enough money to set himself free (? Pretty sure).

And that's pretty much the first scene. Mostly.


Not having a Norton's a bitch. I'm looking for a better version as we speak.


Night.

oonpachicka

100 for helping danny boy with Don't Cut Class.


DON'T-WALK-A-WAY-FROM-ME-YOU-CHI-CKEN-SHIT!