Can't Sleep!

So many couples that I meet depress me. The girls are always nagging the guys and the guys always seem annoyed. Why would you stay in a relationship like that?! There is this particularly naggy couple that I know and I always wonder what they were like when they first met because they don't seem to love each other at all, they don't even seem to LIKE each other. It's sad to think that long ago when they didn't know each other or live together, he was charming and she was sweet and then once they got together, they stopped giving a shit and realized they didn't have to be nice anymore because the whole game was over and they started incessantly nagging each other. It is so depressing. I know a bunch of couples like that too. It's so unnecessary. BREAK UP! Do better!

I can't sleep at all. ever. it sucks.

I worked on the world's WORST staged reading today. I am serious, this show had absolutely no plot and no point. Most of the dialogue was on cell phones. I wanted to shoot myself. I felt embarrassed to be alive...that's how bad it was.

Now I can't sleep and it's killing me because I am really really tired, but my mind won't stop.

I HATE Wednesdays

I cannot handle Wednesday nights. I think I need to sign up for a class or make sure to work late or take a lot of drugs because Wednesday nights are the bane of my existence right now.

Maybe this will become my new time for writing long-winded blogs that nobody actually reads! HOORAY!

Right now I am sitting on the couch with my roommate's boyfriend watching SuperNanny. Yeah, that's right, you're jealous. I'm the craziest 24 year old in town - it's all about booze and sex for me.

Farewell Facebook

So I de-activated my facebook a few weeks ago. It feels so good! I had been thinking about doing it for awhile, but kept putting it off. It was only when I realized how much time I was wasting debating whether or not I should de-activate, that I realized I should not have to think this hard about a stupid website! So I quit. (Actually, Dan owns my profile, but it's basically the same). Hooray for shaking bad habits!

When it rains, it pours

I feel like I am pretty good at counting my blessings, but I just have to say that 2008 has not been treating me well so far!

Get ready for an extremely long sentence:
First, I deal with the end of yet another relationship, which is just annoying and takes more time than I want/should be necessary, then I take on WAY too much at work to compensate for said end of relationship, which makes me horribly sleep deprived and out of shape so that I can barely drive straight, during which time, I have major surgery on my head to remove five cists (for some unknown reason, I assume this won't be a big deal because, well, I AM RETARDED) and I am knocked out for a solid week (shocker!) because the staples in my head are so tight that I can't lie down for more than two hours to sleep, during which time, the incisions get infected, which knocks me out for a few more weeks, all of this while still working 8am - 1am every day, which is more than I've ever worked in my life. THEN just as things start looking a little better and the head wounds are graduating from "infected" to "inflamed" and my sexy bald spots begin to appear (really boosting my confidence in the relationship department), weird situations develop at work, which are super distracting and not for online sharing, but nonetheless, lead to the decision to move away from the girls I've lived with for over 4 years, which might not sound that stressful, but that's probably because you don't know how poor I am, living on my own is definitely not a small undertaking, then to top allllll of that off, tonight I got MUGGED.

Yep, that's right. I got mugged. I was walking to my car behind the theatre after having coffee with a volunteer for the summer camp and heard someone running really fast behind me and saw a shadow on the wall. In the split second before he touched me, I thought, "Shit. This is what it's like to get mugged." And then I did. He grabbed my arm and swung me in a circle about three times, threw me on the ground and then ran off with my purse, wallet and cell phone. The whole time I was yelling "No" in a voice that didn't sound like mine and afterwards I was shaking like a leaf.

So basically, that's been my year so far. Despite all of this, I know how good I have it and I am so thankful for the things that I have and my wonderful family, but SERIOUSLY....CUT A BALD GIRL A BREAK!

"You cannot see your reflection in running water, only in still water"

Lately, I've been thinking a lot lately about myself spiritually...yeah? What? Anyway, it's strange to say "spiritually" because I haven't thought about where I stand in that arena for a long time...but I am reading an interesting memoir and spending a lot of time at home (with staples in my head!), so I've been doing some thinking.

Everything began when I read this passage (and then the pages following): "I'm tired of being a skeptic, I'm irritated by spiritual prudence and I feel bored and parched by empirical debate. I don't want to hear it anymore. I couldn't care less about evidence and proof and assurances. I just want God." When I read that, I thought, "Excluding the last sentence, that's how I feel!" That's when I got to thinking...

As a kid, I considered myself religious and I very much believed in God. I went to a Christian camp in Arkansas and there were moments there where I truly and deeply felt a connection to what I thought to be God. As I grew older, my faith wavered. I enjoyed Youth Group and I went to church, but I began to doubt things that I had always accepted to be true without question. College was a major turning point. I basically decided that religion was bullshit - God was invented to make people feel better about their shitty lives- I was done. I was almost embarrassed to talk about faith, fearing that I would appear brain-washed or stupid or naive. I still feel that way today.

Over the past few months though (and realistically, probably longer than that), I've realized that I have an overwhelming and powerful desire to believe in something and the desire won't go away. I don't know what that "something" is and I'm not even suggesting that it is God, but I feel that I need something to believe in if I am ever going to find true happiness. Whether that be God or love or sacred cows, it doesn't seem to matter at this point.

I haven't finished the book yet, but I think the author is ultimately saying that we find God within ourselves. She literally says, "God dwells within you as you yourself, exactly the way you are." I think that the more I think about it, the more I agree. When I sit in my bed, about to go to sleep and I write in my journal, I'm really sitting down to ask questions of myself....to challenge my own thoughts....to calm my heart and comfort my soul before I have to start another day. My parents taught me that God existed to walk beside me...to guide me through the light and dark. Really, I am my own guide. I know it sounds SO extremely cheesy, and maybe even obvious, but I am. And I don't have to make some massive, dramatic change of character or renounce my individuality in order to find a "God" or to find a specific something to believe in. If I just sit quietly and really think about it, I think I've already found it.

It's been a while...

I haven't written in a long time, but I recently read something that I feel like talking about and since I don't feel like working today, I might as well.

I recently spent a rainy Sunday with my mom and little brother and came across a book called This I Believe. It's a compilation of essays from a program on NPR, which encourages people to write, share and discuss the core values that guide their daily lives. The project is based on the popular 1950s radio series of the same name hosted by Edward R. Murrow. Anyway, as I flipped through the book, which I later purchased, I came across one particular essay by Deirdre Sullivan that meant a lot to me. Here it is:

Always Go to the Funeral

I believe in always going to the funeral. My father taught me that.

The first time he said it directly to me, I was 16 and trying to get out of going to calling hours for Miss Emerson, my old fifth grade math teacher. I did not want to go. My father was unequivocal. "Dee," he said, "you're going. Always go to the funeral. Do it for the family."

So my dad waited outside while I went in. It was worse than I thought it would be: I was the only kid there. When the condolence line deposited me in front of Miss Emerson's shell-shocked parents, I stammered out, "Sorry about all this," and stalked away. But, for that deeply weird expression of sympathy delivered 20 years ago, Miss Emerson's mother still remembers my name and always says hello with tearing eyes.

That was the first time I went un-chaperoned, but my parents had been taking us kids to funerals and calling hours as a matter of course for years. By the time I was 16, I had been to five or six funerals. I remember two things from the funeral circuit: bottomless dishes of free mints and my father saying on the ride home, "You can't come in without going out, kids. Always go to the funeral."

Sounds simple -- when someone dies, get in your car and go to calling hours or the funeral. That, I can do. But I think a personal philosophy of going to funerals means more than that.

"Always go to the funeral" means that I have to do the right thing when I really, really don't feel like it. I have to remind myself of it when I could make some small gesture, but I don't really have to and I definitely don't want to. I'm talking about those things that represent only inconvenience to me, but the world to the other guy. You know, the painfully under-attended birthday party. The hospital visit during happy hour. The Shiva call for one of my ex's uncles. In my humdrum life, the daily battle hasn't been good versus evil. It's hardly so epic. Most days, my real battle is doing good versus doing nothing.

In going to funerals, I've come to believe that while I wait to make a grand heroic gesture, I should just stick to the small inconveniences that let me share in life's inevitable, occasional calamity.

On a cold April night three years ago, my father died a quiet death from cancer. His funeral was on a Wednesday, middle of the workweek. I had been numb for days when, for some reason, during the funeral, I turned and looked back at the folks in the church. The memory of it still takes my breath away. The most human, powerful and humbling thing I've ever seen was a church at 3:00 on a Wednesday full of inconvenienced people who believe in going to the funeral.


After reading the essay twice, I was crying and I didn't really know why. I don't know if being selfish is a prerequisite for being in your early 20's, but it certainly seems like it lately. I include myself in this criticism. I'm so saddened by selfishness and I can't decide if it's the industry I'm in, the city or the people I choose to be around. I guess all I can do is surround myself with good, loving people and it's something I haven't been doing lately.

OPENING NIGHT!

LDSIBGVLOWUYB CIQWENCILWRGBLUABCWKEMNGUYlnivgiyerbnviuenwgmslkvm cwiorbhiyrtnvaw!!!!!!

This is it! The kids perform in front of a live audience for the first time - this afternoon! AH! I could barely sleep last night I was so nervous. Yesterday we had a pretty sloppy run-through, but I think they are ready. I am so proud of them. AHHHH! I just want everything to go smoothly.....please please please.

Rough

One of our kids came to camp and couldn't sit down. At first I thought she was just being annoying, but she was actually unable to sit. She had to lie on her stomach all day and couldn't do any of our dances. At one point she lifted her shirt on accident, uncovering a bunch of purple bruises on her stomach. I asked her what was wrong and she said she fell. I talked to the supervisor of our partner program and he says she really did fall, but it's disturbing and I'm still debating what I should do about it. My heart just aches for these kids....especially when I get frustrated at them for losing focus or forgetting to memorize their lines because WHAT AM I THINKING?! Of course they can't memorize their lines. It's nearly impossible when they have such troubled homes.

On a completely different note.......here is my favorite camper quote to date:

Alexis (7 yrs old): Last night my little brother (2 yr old) dreamed that he was Martin Luther King Jr.

................................oh wait, no..........that was Elmo.

Circus!

Only 8 more rehearsals until the show. The kids did their first run-through today and I was quite impressed. They are forgetting a lot of lines, but they were able to stumble through it without a lot of help, which is a good sign. Tomorrow we are building the set and taking them to the circus!

Made in Asia

So it turns out the little boy's Aunt was lying! The triplets saw the boys running around the neighborhood the other day. This makes me even more sad for the boys because I think they really liked camp, but it wasn't the "cool" thing to do. UGH. So dumb.

The girls were so hilarious on the ride to camp today. I went on the freeway for the first time and D pointed to the cars ahead and said, "I've always wondered who is at the very front of the freeway. Someday, when I'm grown, I'm going to wake up really early and be the first one in front of everyone." Her sister jumped in saying, "Yeah! I've always wondered that too! Also, how did all of these streets get here? It must have taken FOREVER to make them......like at least 30 years, right?" I'm around kids so often now that I started thinking, "YEAH. When WERE these roads made? It must have been a million years ago."

Then S started talking about how everything she owns seems to be made in China to which D said, "Yeah, why can't something be made in Asia or Egyptian or something???"

Things to think about, guys.

Big smiles

This week has been so crazy and the wedding hasn't even happened yet. I had to skip work on Wednesday to throw the bachelorette party and - of course - shit went down at the camp while I was gone. The Reverend that helps me transport the kids called to say that our oldest boy and lead character got in a fight with his Aunt and had to move to Washington with his dad THAT DAY. I couldn't believe it. I almost cried. He was so excited about learning his lines and he just got completely ripped from his home. It was absolutely heartbreaking. It also meant that his little brother, our youngest camper, wasn't going to come to camp anymore either. He was by far the funniest little kid ever. I am so sad.

Anyway, I came back to work at the end of camp today after the Bridesmaids Luncheon and the kids all rushed over to give me a hug. I wasn't wearing my couselor clothes so they thought I was very glamorous and grabbed at my hair a lot. They all wanted to show me the new dance they learned while I was away. It was SO ADORABLE. Seriously. Everyone was smiling ear to ear as they danced. Even the little boys were enthusiastic (they always act like they hate performing). I started to tear up as they finished the song. They were so proud of themselves and so excited to show me what they had learned. I just can't believe these kids could barely talk to each other two weeks ago. Moments like those make this camp worthwhile.

shut up

Certain people are determined to be unhappy. No matter what you do to please them, they find a way to stay completely miserable. I always feel like the person responsible for making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Maybe it's the big sister in me or maybe it's just my personality. Dan and I talked about it at work this morning. He and I are very similar in this respect. We are generally happy and positive people. Other people, are not. It's annoying. It's even more annoying because I feel like it's my job to make it better and it's not my job! Why do I feel that way??

Bastille Day

My best friend is getting married in 6 days and I am a bridesmaid in her wedding. 6 days. I can't believe it! In less than a year, they hope to have a child. It's so strange to me. I'll be going out to a bar while they'll be at home with a baby. Completely weird.

eww

This theatre smells like rotten sandwiches.

Germans

When my brothers and I were little we used to play a game called Mary & Joseph (hmmm....wonder where we got those names...). In the game we were orphans running away from Nazis. My mom eventually changed "Nazis" to "nuns" because we were screaming "Nazi!" in public and that wasn't going over so well. We had no idea what Nazis were, but we knew they were bad.

Yesterday I was driving three of our campers from Compton to the theatre and they were chatting with each other in the back seat. Occasionally as they were talking, the boys would randomly say, "German" and the conversation would continue. It happened a bunch of times so I asked the oldest boy, Tyquone, why they were doing that. He explained by saying, "Whenever someone says something really stupid, we say 'German' and hit them in the head." I asked him why and he said it was just something they always did.

Interesting.

Umbrella (ella ella ella)

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

camp camp camp

Tomorrow we start the theatre camp that I'm heading up. I am nervous. We took an infant/child CPR course today. I'm really glad I'm certified now, but I do not ever want to do CPR on anyone. Did you know that if you blow too hard into a person's mouth, the air goes into the stomach and the person vomits? I had no idea that could happen. Then you not only have an unconsciousness problem, you also have a choking on vomit problem and there is an entirely different procedure for choking.

Anyway, I'm nervous and I hope nobody chokes or passes out tomorrow. As long as kids show up and we all get out alive, I will consider camp a success.

Anonymous M.D.

A couple of months ago, I read an interesting book called "Unprotected: A Campus Psychiatrist Reveals How Political Correctness in Her Profession Endangers Every Student." My Catholic/socially conservative friend recommended it to me, so I assumed the subject would lean in that direction, but I was determined to keep an open mind and started reading. You know when you find out about something amazing and you feel like you have to tell EVERYBODY what you have learned...? That's what happened to me. The author, Anonymous M.D., paints such an accurate picture of the college experience in today’s world - it's incredible. I want every woman I know to read this. She uses medical evidence to argue that the American Psychiatric Association is overly concerned with being politically correct, which ultimately forces psychiatrists to focus on the physical well-being of young college women rather than their emotional well-being. She discusses fertility, abortion, STDs, religion...pretty much everything. The best thing about the book is that she seems to understand my generation and knows how to argue with us. We've been taught to rely on fact and she uses nothing but scientific evidence to support her main points. The only real downside is that she mentions that she is religious. I didn't like that because it is completely unnecessary and probably turns a lot of people off, which is a shame because the book is fascinating. Here is a quick overview from the American Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research (I shortened it a bit):

According to a 2004 survey by the American College Health Association, nearly half of all college students report having felt so depressed at school that they have had trouble functioning. The National Survey of Counseling Center Directors revealed last year that nine percent of all students sought help at their college mental health center. Many suffer eating disorders, self-mutilation, binge-drinking, the stress of boyfriends, exams, and broad-spectrum angst.

In this sobering expose, Dr. A argues that the culture on campus--and in her profession--is so steeped in political correctness that it hamstrings the ability of therapists to help college students. The doctor's frustration steams off every page: "We ask about child abuse, but not last week's hook-ups," she laments. "We want to know how many cigarettes and coffees she's had each day, but not how many abortions in her past. We consider the stress caused by parental expectations and rising tuition, but neglect the anguish of herpes, the hazards of promiscuity, and the looming fertility issues for women who put their career first."

In the training workshops she attends, Dr. A would like to see less focus on sexual experimentation and social oppression in the counseling of young people and more consideration of meaning, hope, and purpose. "Many would benefit from being less self-absorbed, not more," she says. Indeed, the general sensibility on campus, as the author paints it, is a jumble of mixed messages.

A cardiologist, she argues, feels perfectly justified in offering judgments about a patient's sedentary lifestyle. The truth may hurt, but no one worries that a fat man with hypertension will be offended by being told he should lose weight and exercise. But if a mental health physician has the gall to suggest to a young female patient displaying serious symptoms of depression that she might improve the quality of her life if she changes her casual attitude toward sex—well, that crosses the line. That's a value judgment and not medicine, she is likely to be told. Anonymous begs to differ. "I argue as a scientist," she says, "with biological facts, not biblical ones. Forget Leviticus—as you'll see, my data is from The New England Journal of Medicine and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention."

Anyway, I thought of this book again last night, went online to see how people are reviewing it and made some frustrating discoveries. Judging from their comments, it seemed that most of the reviewers hadn’t even read it. They were immediately turned off by the fact that the author argues that men and women are fundamentally different. As a result, they completely write everything off. I was so mad.

What made me the most upset is that I had to try really hard to find reviews at all. This book isn't sold in stores and hasn't gotten a lot of attention. everyone should read it, especially if you're still in college. It really rang true for me and if anything, it provides for some interesting discussion.

Weird occurrences at the Lyric lately...

Lady walks in with extremely spaced-out look on her face and smells of alcohol. She asks me if we are a counseling service. I tell her we are a theatre. She looks around. Looks at Dan. Asks me again and I tell her again that we are a theatre. She leaves. Five seconds later she walks back in. Same look on her face. She asks me if we are a counseling service in the exact same tone as if she has never seen me in her life. Seriously, it was like her memory was erased - so friggin WEIRD.

Lady walks in with pile of socks...
To me: "Do you want to buy some socks?"
me: "No thanks"
To Dan: "Do YOU want to buy some socks?"
dan: "Um, no...thank you"
Lady leaves theatre.

Man with cowboy hat walks into theatre and immediately goes to the back. Dan and I follow. Man is clearly in the bathroom. Comes out of bathroom and walks toward front door without looking at either of us.
Me: "Excuse me sir, can I help you? Did you just need to use the bathroom?"
Man (exposing a mouth with no teeth): "Yeah. Unless you wanna sit down and talk about it."
Me: speechless

Lady comes to the door with 5 yr old kid.
Lady: Is this 520 North La Brea?
Me: yes, this is the Lyric Theatre
Lady: 5-2-0 North La Brea?
Me: Yes
Lady: I need to talk to Hazel
Me: Sorry, you must have the wrong address. I don't know a Hazel
(shows me a piece of paper with Hazel's name and number on it)
Lady: Can you call Hazel and tell her I am here?
Me: No...I'm sorry...I don't....
(awkward silence)
Me: You can call her on our phone if you like...
(She gets on the phone, calls Hazel, it's ringing, she puts the phone over to me)
Lady: Can you tell Hazel I'm here?
Me (thinking): WTF?! WHO IS HAZEL???

Guy comes into the theatre and pays for a $25 ticket in CHANGE. (not that weird, but wanted to write it cuz it's annoying)

OK......be prepared because this next story is BY FAR the strangest occurrence to date:

A man runs inside during the day. Dan calls out to see if he needs something. The man is in a huge hurry and says, "Can i PLEASE use your bathroom??" and rushes to the back. Without a chance to say no (we are not a public toilet!), Dan watches him run to the back.
Neither of us think anything of it until later when an audience member comes up to Dan and tells him that we need to seriously clean up the bathroom area.
Dan goes back and there is SHIT EVERYWHERE. Not kidding. e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. we are talking IN THE SINK, guys.....in...the....sink.

WTF??????? Who runs in, shits everywhere and leaves? I mean really!?!?!!? Poor Dan had to clean it. Seriously....so ridiculous.

Darby Downer

I recently went to a party and had a pretty long conversation with a girl who is currently a sophomore in college. We talked about the usual stuff like jobs, majors, our goals, etc etc…..all the stuff you always feel like you need to say when you initially meet someone. It was a pretty normal interaction, nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason, I can’t get the conversation out of mind.

She was talking about all of her plans for the future – she wants to go abroad for this amount of time and study in Washington D.C. for this amount of time and get this and this degree and go to this grad school (fyi - when you say it repeatedly, “this” becomes a weird word)…..and the whole time her excitement was making me feel so very old. I was just like her when I was a sophomore! I had everything planned out years ahead of time. Then she asked me about my dreams and aspirations. I told her that I have the job that I’ve wanted to have for years and I’m pretty happy with it. The conversation suddenly went silent. There was sort of a “that’s it?!” look on her face, like I should have something more to say. I felt like I should elaborate in some way to make my life somehow more…important? Legitimate? I wanted to say something like, “but I plan to go to Nigeria to work at an orphanage and then after that I’m going to get my Masters at Stanford and then blah blah blah (insert really cool life things here).”

As an insecure 20-something going through the usual what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life phase (well, more of a constant state of being than a phase), I realized that I’ve been feeling weird lately because I’m no longer looking for the next thing to do. School is just a period of time where you wait for real life and since I’m not in school anymore, I’m in real life and I’m not waiting anymore. This sensation is so weird and new. I’ve been in school for 17 years and I don’t really know how to act now that it’s over. My immediate reaction is to apply to grad school and postpone the inevitable. Everybody’s doing it, so I probably should too. But I am basically happy with my job and that’s a really good thing. I’m not saying I am completely satisfied at all times and have no desire to do anything else, but I am essentially happy at the moment with my professional life (personal life aside). I think it just feels strange not to be applying for something or studying for some enormous test.

Maybe I am just paranoid (and that is probably the case because she was a really nice girl), but I felt like this girl was thinking, “I’m not going to be like her, I am going to do great things.” But I wanted to say to her, “I AM doing great things!” She might have all these grand plans, but are a thousand amazing dreams better than one? Her excitement annoyed me. I wanted to tell her to chill out, but then why would I want to squash such happy (if naïve) optimism? I’m not Scrooge and I’m not bitter……but everything that I’ve typed so far would suggest that I am bitter. I am mad at her optimism and he 5-year plan and her plans to go abroad.

So I guess what I am saying is that maybe this conversation disturbed me so much because I’m not as happy with my job as I initially thought. Or maybe I am happy, but I’m just feeling restless because I’ve been trained (throughout my time in school) to constantly search for the next project (“on to the next club!” Corey would say). I don’t know, but I’m still thinking about it.