First Review Ever!

I wrote a review, and David liked it, so it's on the internet!

The interwebs!

A review that I wrote! :D

http://www.utahtheaterbloggers.com/3327/mullets-and-mayhem-at-“trailer-park-musical”

I Didn't Want to be Left Out of the Blog Party

It seems like every single blog I follow has put something up in the last six hours, which means that I should do so, too.

So.



Yeah.



Yup.


This is what I'm doing instead of securing my college degree:
http://www.addictinggames.com/homeruninberzerkland.html .


You'll see why.

Epic like The Fellowship of the Bard, The Two Bards, The Return of the Bard

Sometimes in the stillness between thoughts, I am overcome with bitter sadness. It's heavy and ugly and mean. It suffocates the light right out of me. Between breath and heartbeat, I am enshrouded in impossible melancholy.

And then it's gone.

The earth turns, a breeze picks up, and I am left with traces of this great evil, shadowy fingerprints around my heart, all over my mind.

I think I realized today, in the wake of darkness, what I had in Romeo and Juliet. Its preciousness shone clearly, and I wept "for such a feeling loss."

I have always wanted to be a part of something wonderful, something immense, something immortal. I think Romeo and Juliet was my chance-- the lives that were shaped and the souls that poured in and the sunset behind us each night and the friendships forged and the slow change in the seasons and the hundreds of people whose paths crossed with ours. There won't be anything like it for a long time, if ever again.

I should have savored every second of it.

But here I am, suddenly alone in my room, struggling against residual despair and longing to be back among such glorious people, creating something worth remembering.

We held on to it, back when we could feel the end looming over us. The depth of the love and the warmth of that party at Anne's house staved off the encroaching darkness for a little while. We were a family for a few perfect hours.

I really wish we had taken a cast photo.

Everyone is asking me what my next project is, what I'm doing now, or when they can come see my next show. The nature of theatre is much more life-like than film; a show grows and progresses, then fades and essentially dies. By the natural progression of things, I must let this project die and move on.

I think I will always be haunted by Romeo and Juliet, much as one never forgets the potency of a first true love. Years from now, when I happen upon the script in a move, when I go to my daughter's high school production, or receive an unexpected phone call from Kat or Benji or Meg, I will feel the amber glow of this summer chase away the shadows.

I will smile sadly.

And I will be thankful then, as I am now, to have been right in the thick of something wonderful, something immense, something immortal.

USIP RandJ - picture slideshow

~~~

Recorded 9/13/10

T-Minus 21 Days and Counting!

September 30th.
The Depot.
8 PM.
My ticket is in my dresser drawer.




AAHH!!

"Walking the Last Bridge Alone"

I mentioned earlier that I felt better.


That was before.


Actually, I'm worse now than I was last semester.
...


Yeah.
...

So.
...

...

Meg asked me tonight, "What's your problem?" And I sobbed and said, "I don't know."


I don't know what my problem is. I don't know why it's getting worse. I'm sure I would if I thought about it, but I don't want to think about it. I don't want to start poking around only to discover that it's far worse than I thought and I'll never be cured and I'll live my life NOT as a lobsterman's wife, but as some poor, crazy sap at a loony bin who never finds love and then escapes to collect grocery bags into a stolen cart and scream at people when they get too close to her corner.


There is something seriously wrong with my mind.

Harvey Is My Dear Departed Car, By the Way

I dug this up out of the debris in the top drawer of my dresser. I don't know whether it's worth anything, but I feel like I should share it.

Flawless blue melts seamlessly to sun's favorite yellow, green feels completely neglected.

We agreed that normalcy, oddly enough, exists near that shack in the PG cemetery.

Bodies so imperfect cannot contain pure contentment for more than a few dusk lit moments.

As night crept onward, we went back to Harvey and hammered out the details of our relationship.

We didn't stick around long enough to see the troubled moon. Absence forges biased thoughts, and two long years and two odd weeks have kept us wandering.

Chained only by my empty sighs and pent up ambition.

I know I won't feel the same way in the morning, so Harvey and I stare down the troubled moon, watching it slip through jigsaw clouds.




I still haven't made up my mind, and the sprinklers came on to chase me inside.

And I will add, enigmatically enough, that people change and circumstances change and things have changed and I have moved on. Nevertheless, this week I was drawn to (and perhaps I connected with) the idea of barely missed opportunity.

A Financial Update

August 25: "A correction was sent to CPS on your behalf. Check back."
"Free Application for Federal Student Aid Waiting for correction."

I did check back, and you told me just to wait it out.

August 30: "A correction was sent to CPS on your behalf. Check back."

And I thought, 'Well, at least the FAFSA has finished processing.'

August 31: "A correction was sent to CPS on your behalf. Check back."
"Free Application for Federal Student Aid Waiting for correction 04."


Eff my liiiiiiife.

We've un-progressed. We've regressed.

I might never get my money.

They're going to give it away to some awful person whose parents cut them off because they've been going to school for twelve years now and have accomplished nothing.

They're going to run out of money and the $2,750 I was expecting is going to be $65.38.

I'm going to end up living in a cardboard box on the road behind the GT.

I'm going to eat worms and bird eggs and flies. I'm going to make my clothes out of leaves and grass and pine needles. I'll make friends with rabbits and bears so they can cuddle with me and keep me warm at night. I'll sell my soul to the Theatre department to pay for tuition. I'll sneak up behind people who are studying in the library, render them unconscious with the forest ninja skills I'll learn from the bears and the rabbits, use their book for my home work, and then put it back so when they wake up it'll be like some awesome yet terrible dream that may or may never have happened. They'll write articles about me in the UVU newspaper. Three years from now, I'll be a Lifetime Original Movie. Tourists will flock to the road behind to GT to get a glimpse of me, to take their picture with BearRabbitSoullessTheatreGirl (which will be the title of the film). And after all of that, I'll still be paisley soup bowl-free. Because my loan money will never come.

I am destined to die, feeble and despondent, in the arms of my best bear friend, having never found true love because people will be repulsed by my stench.







These might all be legitimate concerns.




Homeless at Library Square - Salt Lake City, originally uploaded by inneri.

Watch for me.