+++ // --~ i have found a watermelon. ~-- \\ +++

A resolution

2006-07-01T12:41:13Z

"When you get bit by a snake,

you're supposed to suck
the poison out.

That's what I had to do.
Suck all the poison out of my life."

...

hotarukoi @ 2006-04-04T20:35:00

2006-04-05T00:36:22Z

someday, livejournal, you and i will get along again. because i still think you're cool, i promise.

hmm

2006-02-20T03:47:01Z

... still alive. even better, i'm now cooler than i used to be. more jaded, but cooler. yah. you totally wish you were living in the village and seeing a show every night ^.^ no money, but this is a good life.

come on, my high school bitties, get into college already. and maybe talk to me once in a while. that could be fun.

...my livejournal is still loserish. gotta fix that. someday.

hotarukoi @ 2005-10-20T01:12:00

2005-10-20T05:14:54Z

Someday I'll actually work with this journal thingy again... when I have time and when I realize my dream of making cool things and selling them to people. Then this will be useful. But not until then.

But if you came here for some angsty sarcastic teenagery melodramatic entertainment, keep scrollin'.

A moment

2005-09-04T01:02:08Z

I'm having a moment. Right now I'm sitting on Zac Heyman's lap, eating dry Ramen and listening to Da Vinci's Notebook and Harry and the Potters. There is nowhere else in the world I'd rather be, and no one else in the world would enjoy this just as much as I do, except Zac Heyman. That is why this is a moment. The end.

P.S. OH MY GOD YOU LOOK LIKE A FROG

hotarukoi @ 2005-08-06T19:55:00

2005-08-06T23:55:38Z

Jeebus, it's been a long time.

I've been preoccupied with:
facebook
hoopskirts
neverending stories about Betsy Ross
humidity
ice cream
room cleaning
shady billiards halls
being excited for college
being even more excited for college
working twenty-six straight days in a row (15 left, baby!!!)
historic philadelphia
ketchup
now and laters
septa trailpasses
my lack of free time to make things, do what i need to, or update my livejournal.

...yeah.

hotarukoi @ 2005-07-05T17:52:00

2005-07-05T21:54:41Z

God has a really fucked up sense of humor.

heehee

2005-06-11T01:38:01Z

I spent all day sewing and trying not to think about food. I came up with a shirt, you can check it out on t_shirt_surgery, cuz it's neat.

And I graduated yesterday! Good times.

But I still have to work tomorrow, and that makes me a sad panda.

Oh, favor me, favor me with your hand

2005-06-01T01:17:00Z

New obsession: singing along to the Sweeney Todd soundtrack. SO GOOD. Why am I such a nut? I'll never know.
Other new obsession: Putting off my senior project to browse around on facebook. If you're my age and you haven't done it, you might as well. You will eventually, and better sooner than later... heehee....
Third new-ish obsession: Putting off my senior project to browse IFC Pulp contest designs on threadless.com. Ben bought me some shirts, because he's awesome like that, consistently.
Fourth obsession: Procrastination. Why? Because it's 9:16 two days before my presentation and I haven't started to illustrate.... god damnit. Somebody smack me.

As we near the finish line..

2005-05-24T03:13:57Z

Pete and Pete is out on DVD!!! I get paid on Friday, I'm buying it asap. Of course, I could buy the bootleg variety which is every episode instead of just the first eight and it's only forty dollars... how do they do it? Oh, right. With DVD-Rs.

They've also got a couple other choice Nick shows... I'm severely tempted. Check it out here: www.nickclassics.com/store. These are definitely bootlegs, so of course we can't be sure about quality, but I'm really really itching to try it out. Plus, if it was anime, we'd call them fansubs and leave it at that; a company that puts out the shows because the real company won't do it. Fansubs are really popular and I've had really good luck with them. People tend to be honest. Are You Afraid of the Dark is just SO good.. I might try it. And if anyone happens to make a purchase, lemme know how it goes.

Sweeney Todd at the Arden! I went to see it Friday with Zoe, courtesy of her parents. And how fantabulous was it? So much, my arms are not, nor will they ever be, wide enough to display it. That show makes me so giddy... I was so overly excited, Zoe will tell you. I won't go into it too much, because my rants about it alone could take up several journal entries. I will go on forever about this show, because it's quite possibly my favorite Sondheim, with some bloody BRILLIANT music as always. It was fantastically played on all sides and I've been singing it to myself for four days now (dangerous when you're dressed in colonial costume). And since I'm surrounded by theater people every day, sometimes they join in and sing along. It's so much fun.

On that note, work is taking over my life. Senior project still about fifteen percent done, all of which is research, because I've been up to my ears in 18th century history for two straight weeks now. I'm going to write and illustrate as much as I can of a children's book about Sybil Ludington, who was like Paul Revere except she didn't get captured and she was a sixteen-year-old girl. Pretty cool, in my opinion.

But I have to get started on it in the middle of memorizing a bajillion things for work, so this is getting fun... and I'm updating this instead of doing that work.. brilliant.

So in the emotional realm, my life's been getting a wee bit odd. Just a wee bit. It's funny, I was open to the idea of somebody giving me affection for so long and it just didn't happen, and I was used to it, because that's usually the way it ends up with me. And then all of a sudden, bang! bang! bang! Hello! Not that I'm complaining.

I've got some green goop on my face right now because my skin's starting to show my stress. I've got to rewrite another Betsy Ross House story because they're all so boring and I have a rehearsal tomorrow to show off my memorization skills that I hope dearly will not fail me.

Oh, right! I got Ben a job, too. Well, not directly, but I helped a bit. There was an opening at the Jewish Museum storytelling bench, and I recommended him to Geoffrey, our director. Ben came in this morning at 10:30, auditioned, and was hired on the spot. He's cool like that. So now I have someone to take the train with, yaaay.

The season finale of 24 was tonight and I am intensed out. Jack Bauer is the coolest cat ever.

Anywhos... Tom and Matt are in England and I miss them. Rachel's in Holland and I miss her. Doukie's in Kentucky again and I miss her. Everyone's gone or going somewhere. I'm just sticking around, biding my time as always by not doing what I should be. Por ejemple, tomorrow I'm going over to Ben's house to study, by which I mean I'm going to see Revenge of the Sith with him and Tom and Greg and Pat and praying my mom won't find out because she'll castrate me even though that's not quite possible. She'll find a way. I won't even start on how aggravating she's been of late.

I should get back to work. I have this block where it's impossible for me to go to bed before midnight, and it's been holding up quite nicely the past few weeks. It looks like tonight will be no different. I could fuel someone's soul for a year with all the sleep I'm missing.

It's my own fault. ^.^

not disappearing

2005-05-15T04:19:15Z

do you know what it's like to wait and wait for somebody to notice you? to wonder if you're invisible, wonder if one more step forward is all it takes, and if that's all why won't they take it? and then when they finally do move toward you how wonderful and uplifting and so refreshingly new it all is?

i know. and i no longer feel like i'm disappearing.

May day.

2005-05-01T22:07:17Z

Arsenic's over, my tenth and last players show. I think I did the lightboard justice. I hope a couple of people will remember me well.

Today was my final strike. I gathered Matt, Tom, Emily, and Eleanor together. We grabbed some sharpies, a flashlight, and a valid excuse and proceeded to the back of the ceiling to write our names on the infamous wall of lighting. The graffiti there goes back decades to crews of the past who left their respective legacies in the auditorium, evidenced only by a journey to the dusty and hazardous region above the balcony.

We wrote our years and names on the graying bricks as Eleanor looked on, the light in her eyes reminding us of the promise we found here when we were her age. She's our link to the future, the one who will lead others back there to commemorate their time with Players. It will change, of course; in a few years the wall will be torn down along with the rest of the school, but that spirit won't die, because we'll remember it. It made us who we are.

She took a picture of all of us, covered in dust and grinning like mad in front of our new names. If we can manage it tomorrow we'll go back to reinforce them, to make sure anyone else who ventures back there will know exactly who passed before them, and revere the names just as we revere the ones that came before us.

Ah, what a legend is lighting.... I'll never get tired of it. I know I'll be back for the shows next year, and I can't wait to see what the next generation does with Players.

My voice is gone again from yelling too much, a severe obstacle to my daily life and another token of my upbringing with lighting. Nonetheless I've found so many people I wish I'd known earlier: Paul with his refreshingly intelligent conversation, Armin with his boyish German charm, Tom with his sweet anime-influenced sensibility... These are the people I'll miss the most, the ones I wish I could know better, who will rise up to fill any sort of void the seniors leave behind them, who'll do things better than we ever could.

I still remember being starry-eyed over the upper-class "dream-team" of my freshman year; Kate Ferber, Ian McCafferty, Eliza Bershad, Carly Baker, Joel Frank, John Glick, Joanna Fiduccia, Allison Frick, Dana Lawit. I looked up to them and loved it. They were the ones who had it all. They ran the joint, and we all knew it. We aspired to be like they were, and sometimes I wonder how we measure up. Times have changed. I don't feel nearly as old as I perceived those people to be four years ago, not quite as mature as they acted. Some would say not so elitist, but if it really was that it was a beautiful thing that none of us ever questioned it.

Listen to me, ranting on about Players. I'll be back, I know I will. I also know it won't be the same, I'll never fit in like I did before, and I'll never be quite as welcome... you can't go home again, and I'm sure I'll realize that in practice soon enough. But in the meantime I'll be nostalgic, and remember back to the golden days, the ones filled with revolving doors, telephone operators, castle walls, and trees glittering with fairy dust. As many things as I'd do differently, I could never go back, because everything was, in its own way, perfect. It got me to where I am now. And I kind of like where I'm sitting.

So adieu to my beloved cult; rest easy knowing you'll be passed on to yet another set of capable hands. Remember me, if you care to. I'd like to think I did something worthy of remembrance, however small it was. We'll see.

sunday sunday SUNDAY

2005-04-17T17:40:10Z

The Ace Harmony concert rocked all of our various socks. Thanks to everyone who came. Damn, that was fun. I swear Mr. Hunnex is the best thing that's happened to me, let alone the entire school, in a long time. He's wonderful, and I'm so glad that he could see this project come to life.

So major props to all of ace harmonizzle, you guys did so great, and everyone loved you. That's the best time I've had in a while. Not to mention Carter's party afterward where the we and the Penns dropped it like it was hot on a 1-5-6-4 improv for about fifteen minutes straight. Beautiful. And I got to sing Fa Fa again. ^.^

And now back to my lovely life of second-guessing what I want. This time it's college. NYU or Northwestern? The former is the only place I've wanted to be for years, but now they've shirked me from the studio I wanted most to be in, and the latter is a place I never imagined myself being accepted to, but now that I have there are professors calling my house telling my mother how much they want me there because they really like my voice. I could go to NYU and be in Playwrights Horizons and not take any academics for at least the first year and try to make the best of it using New York City as my consolation prize, or I could go to Northwestern in Evanston, right outside of Chicago, a city I know nothing about, and I could sing and be appreciated except I would hardly ever be able to come home or, let alone, to my favorite city, New York.

Ugh. If Northwestern were in New York I'd go in a heartbeat. I just don't know what to do. NYU's incoming class will possess a few friends that I really don't want to lose contact with, and the promise of endless disappointment/opportunity that New York has to offer. Yet Northwestern is a completely different landscape. I'm not used to it, I've only been there once, and so I really can't judge it, can I? There lies the promise of a completely fresh slate, in a place I don't know and where no one knows me, where I could be known if I wanted to, where the school would take good care of me, as opposed to NYU which is a reality check a minute. I don't know if I want to get used to the real world now or four years from now.

I would think that I want to start immediately and prepare myself for the life I'm setting up for: a career in theater, which is chock-full of disappointment. NYU will get me used to the idea that I'm not as special as I think I am, or as my life in Lower Merion has conditioned me to be. Being there will teach me that the world is full of talented people, many just like me, many who are better than I am. It's not something I necessarily want, but it's something I'm going to have to get used to eventually. Northwestern will spoil me a little bit more, since I was one of about twenty people accepted into their voice program, a prestigious and competetive program to which over three hundred auditioned, and I have it from a professor's mouth that I was one of the first picked. That's a huge compliment. Now I have to decide if I'll take the compliment and their offer, or put it away as a building block for my self-confidence and stride into the fray of NYC with that as a piece of my armor.

The thing is, I tend to second-guess myself a lot. And I ususally end up going with my first instinct. I know this about myself, and I know somewhere inside that I'm probably going to end up at NYU. The only thing I have to consider is whether or not I'll regret missing this opportunity.

At least I know that either way I'll be broke. ^.^

WHAAAA

2005-03-31T02:55:52Z

I GOT INTO NYU!!!!

And my mom opened my letter for me without knowing I was home after she left me a message thinking I was at school saying she wouldn't do anything till I got back and I screamed at her and got all pissy and my family's going to the poor house to pay for this BUT I STILL GOT IN!!!!!

I've wanted this for three years. I don't know what studio I'm in yet, so obviously if I didn't get into CAP it'll put a damper on my admission, but still! I got into the school I wanted, and I'm proud. I was so nervous, and I visited it three bajillion times because I liked it so much, and I'm happy. I'm happy. They gave me a little scholarship (only little because it costs so much), but every bit helps, particularly now. Anyone know of any good scholarships I can apply for? ^.^;;

heehee, i'm going to NYU...... happy happy joy joy.

i need another week.

2005-03-29T03:12:26Z

Spring break is over and my remaining capabilites to deal with high school may have gone with it. Don't know yet.

I spent the majority of the week alone and quite lonely, with an occasional friendly visit from well-wishers with Nutella cookies or a good girl who took me to the Dali exhibit (which was fantabulous, by the way). I went to Zoe's birthday party and had dee-licious lobster cooked right in front of me. Quite a delight.

I was also exposed to drugs for the first time in my life. I've never seen, let alone smelled or smoked, pot before, and I suppose I don't intend to. Bad for the lungs and all that, and I'm rather fond of singing, so when the opportunity was extended I passed, and chose to watch instead.

It was fucking hysterical. I got out my creative writing book and took notes. Jeez, they said the funniest things... I got theories about God and angels and crazy dancing and really tactless remarks about me and boys and remarkably humorous facial expressions.

I didn't sleep that night. The thing I've been pining after for months and years came about that night, developed as the hours went by. We laughed at the kids getting stoned and talked about old movies and he held my hand. No one has done that, not in a long time. Why did I need it so much? And I must have said something, done something, because it ended and I still don't quite know why. I was too bold or too shy or too old or too far away. Am I so unscrupulous that no one can bear me? I don't know, but it hurt regardless. I left early that morning for Washington with tears blocking my throat and a few final, stinging words echoing in my ears.

Zoe kindly drove us to the train station and soon we were off like shots to the Japan Bowl. Aside from my exhaustion, it was a grand old time. We got our asses kicked by some kids from California with surprisingly serious faces for people so young. I didn't care much, and neither did Emily or Zac. We spent our time doing Japanese cultural activities too high-class to be called arts and crafts. A lady taught me how to fold paper over inserts in metal jewelry and I made a barette. It's quite pretty, I was sort of proud. It felt good to create something.

We went to the embassy for a soiree with lots of sushi and even more people. Met some cool kids from Cincinnatti, among them Ruchie and Sam Snow and Schyler. They were really awesome, and we went out wandering at night with their sensei and ended up at the California Pizza Grill and had a blast. I loved it. Ruchie's on livejournal and I have to track her down. ^.^

We left for Union Station on Sunday morning, and with time to spare, had breakfast at Johnny Rocket's. We spent a good quarter hour trying to explain to Tomizuka-sensei what a jukebox was and how it was used, malt shops, Grease, dancing, records. It was interesting to watch her absorbing it all, a huge culture chasm apart and unable to fully comprehend our highly implied history. I feel the same way about the Japanese sometimes. There is something so pure about their mannerisms that I can't help but wonder what each one of their childhoods was like. Their language and religions are beautiful. I will never fully understand.

And today was today. Rainy, school, free fourth, music major presentation Wednesday, gov test Thursday, painting on Friday, various tidbits in between and after. The daily grind.

I got into Northwestern's School of Music, much to my surprise. Since BU and Vassar both rejected me, I thought for sure I'd be three for three when the letter came, but they congratulated me and I felt pretty good. Their music building is a place I could get used to being in. It's the sort of setting in which I could see a young Christine Daae being nurtured by the greats, peeking around corners at the talent in every room. It's a bit more modern than all that, but I've been quite fanciful of late. It's Shakespeare's fault, I guess. I like Ophelia too much.

24's over and so is this rant... I need to do some work. Sometime. At some point.

Ach, who am I kidding? I value sleep too much these days to let it slip away as easily as some other things. Perhaps tonight I'll see in black and white and discover the stuff that dreams are made of. *cue a fedora-donning figure walking off into the distance, Maltese falcon in hand.*

Procrastination to the max.

2005-03-15T05:02:02Z

So it's midnight and I haven't started my homework. Why? Because I've been investigating the LM facebook link Nancy sent me, damn her...

But, in all seriousness, check it out: http://www.sconex.com/i/6016289463/16353459/ It's pretty cool and there are a bunch of people on there already. Visit, spread it around. And add me as your friend so I can feel popular! hooray!

Aw man... I haven't been to homestarrunner in SO long... but i gotta do my homework.. *sniff*

Always so belated...

2005-03-13T17:57:37Z

So, let's see. I'm eighteen. That's kind of cool. Still don't have a driver's license. That's not very cool.

But turning eighteen was fun, aside from dropping a drawing horse on my foot in art class. I came out of Belmondo's room after school and Ani and Amy were waiting for me. They began to sing, and then slowly the entire Players lobby joined in singing Happy Birthday to me. It was magnificent. Definitely the highlight of my day.

Then I went to see Spamalot two days later. And it was AWESOME. I haven't laughed so hard in a very long time. I mean, details are mostly not needed, just... Tim Curry and David Hyde Pierce and coconuts and prams and mud and really tall knights who say "ni" and Sara Ramirez with an absolutely astounding voice and, best of all, a bottle dance with holy grails.

Then two weeks flit by like tiny little birds and time comes for my birthday party, which was last night, which was very fun. Lots of costumed friends showed up, mostly from Players, but what made me really happy was that my art friends came too, and I got to feel cool when they complimented my room. Nancy gave me a palette knife! My life (of painting) is now complete.

I was a peacock with a homemade tail that I'd finished approximately three minutes before the party began. I had lots of practice doing swirly makeup from Midsummer, and it was fun dressing up. I felt like I hadn't done it in a while.

People had some pretty cool costumes, and I was glad they responded so well to the invitation. I guess, all in all, the party didn't have too much life to it. I had no activities planned, other than a costume contest (juged by Joanna, so y'know..) so we ended up watching movies and eating my grandma's awesome food. People seemed to enjoy it. I'm sure it's not the best party they've been to, but I hope they had fun. I certainly did.

So now it's over, and I have a gov test tomorrow... I've got to go dig up some notes or something. I love how all the work comes rushing back after something fun is finished. It's an art sort of day, I want to paint something.. but then just the thought of all the preparation involved and the bad-smelling turpenoid makes me want to go back to sleep. Maybe I will.

sheer brilliance.

2005-02-28T21:37:08Z

Harry Potter 3 in 15 minutes.

Just do it.

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways, bitch.

2005-02-26T00:20:46Z

So am I at Performateria tonight where I should be, listening to singers and poets and probably joining in myself? No, I'm at home, cleaning my room, because the Crow threatened death if I even thought about leaving the house tonight. I'm grounded, apparently, until tomorrow (not that she mentioned a time limit until today).

Her sheer ridiculousness gets to me. I can understand a punishment; your room's not clean so you can't go out. That's fine. But even if I had cleaned it, I still wouldn't be able to go out tonight. That's what bothers me. I was allowed to have friends over on Wednesday because she forgot that she grounded me. She's so dumb sometimes. I have been perfectly civil to her this week, but no matter what I say, she always finds some way to accuse me of being smart, or having an attitude, or talking back, or lying, or insulting her. I've been told to watch my mouth so many times that I've gone cross-eyed with the effort.

More to the point is her law that I can't have too much fun in too short a period of time. I'm going on a field trip to Schlossberg's concert tomorrow night (that I paid for myself... grumblemumble..) and so OBVIOUSLY I can't go out tonight, because of my plans tomorrow. This has been a frequent edict from her for several years now. The next thing you know she'll ban me from going to perform with Ace Harmony tomorrow because she hasn't heard about it.

I know how typical of a teenage rant this is. I know I'm falling into the hated stereotype of grumbling, rebellious daughter, but you must understand, faithful reader, that I wouldn't be so aggravated if I wasn't so sure that I'm in the right. I've lived with this "woman" for seventeen years and there has not been a week where we haven't fought.

She admits she's unfair, on occasion, but she does her deeds anyway. When I tell her something I've told her before and she thinks it's the first time she's heard it, she accuses me of playing mind games with her. That's one of her favorite phrases. Mind games. Her memory is completely unreliable, as she's said herself, but she always assumes my sisters and I are trying to trick her by telling her things she should already know.

And she also doesn't tell me when I've done something wrong (in her eyes). She waits until it builds up and then explodes with all the innocent statements I've made in the past month that she takes the wrong way. She's the biggest Jewish mother ever, guilting her way out of everything, but even when I tried to make a joke about her Jewish qualities she got all flustered and offended like I'd come out with some awful racial slur.

I'm going to be eighteen in six days. She is still going to treat me like a child, I know that. Here's hoping I'll learn to stand up to her more effectively. And here's hoping she doesn't kick me out of the house when I do. Or withdraw my college funds... not that those are much to speak of.

sickly, but not really.

2005-02-24T16:16:50Z

Pretended to have a headache so I could stay home from school and get lots of work done, but we're getting let out early anyway because of "impending weather," meaning snow, meaning general joy for us teenagers.

So I did it. No more auditions, no more anything. No college, except for the occasional scholarship that I'm applicable for, and those are still a little ways off. I hope so much for NYU, but there are thousands, and they take sixty into CAP. Plus, everyone says that all the CAP kids are only there to compete. Naturally, I'd like to see for myself... I just want to be in New York at this school I've dreamed about for several years... that my silly former significant other was lucky enough (and smart enough) to get into.

Speaking of that one, he's living it up. He's found a new girl, and I'm rather impressed by that.... The way he talks sometimes, you'd think he has no confidence in himself whatsoever. He wasn't even going to pursue this one, but I talked him into it. No regrets, at least not immediately. I'm sure they'll come in small doses when things get serious between them, but I know this is what's best. He needs something different. Someone that's not me. Someone kind. Hopefully he'll realize that, too. And she's what he needs. She's nice. She lives in his dorm. She's pretty... and short. *sigh*

In any case, I did get to see the gates, and I'm so glad... they were much grander than I imagined, these tall, proud, unapologetically orange structures lining the twisting walkways of nature in New York. The curtains hanging from them were pleated at the top so when the wind blew threw them the ripples went from one side to the other, creating the effect of breaking waves. It was beautiful, and very serene. I could have stayed there for hours despite the cold, perched on the edge of one of the boulders, watching as the sun went down. The others seemed similarly affected. I do, however, have a fun little video of Matt Parelman in his Soviet coat asking, "Why aren't those flags red?"

I missed my bus that night and had to stay over rather than be stranded in Philadelphia when I got home. Mom grounded me, but it's almost laughable, because she never puts any time or privilege limits on this sort of thing. She just stays generally angry and huffy and crow-like. Por ejemple:

Yesterday Tom and Emma were over to watch the Project Runway finale. They came home with me before Mom returned from work and I asked her on the phone if they could stay through dinner and the show, and she said of course. When she came home, though, she realized what she'd done and dragged me out of the guest room to yell at me for being grounded and therefore I wasn't allowed to have friends over. I felt like laughing, but I held my tongue. She couldn't do much without appearing nasty, though, so she made herself a dang quesidilla and harumphed downstairs and didn't speak to me for most of the night.

She's so disagreeable lately... and I've been trying to step back and see her behavior for how ridiculous it is. It's working. A few days ago she and Sarah had an argument over who would get which TV. Mom had the main living room TV claimed, and Sarah wanted to use the guest room, but I was doing homework and insisted against it. She refused to go watch the tiny TV in Mom's room, so instead she went downstairs to watch the tiny TV in the kitchen, right beside Mom and her movie. They both turned the volume up as loud as it would go and concentrated on their shows, occasionally stealing glances at each other to see who would crack first. I timidly ventured down there to get a drink and was almost deafened by the noise of Gilmore Girls and Raising Helen competing with each other.

So, family entertainment aside... I need a new layout. Today would be an intelligent day to do it if I didn't have so much of everything else. I'm still horrible at web formatting, though, and it's going to take a long time for me to figure all of this out, particularly if I don't even know what I want it to look like yet. But there's too much black here; this journal was birthed and maintained in a time when black was appropriate, and it doesn't feel that way anymore. I want a little bit of color. Not too much, because that would scare my goth side into hiding, but just enough to appease the fairy girl inside me who's crying because it's dark.

Spring's coming, hopefully... not that the snow falling outside right now is any indication. But spring is a time for colors. Emma and I were lamenting yesterday about how much we missed long, flowy skirts and sandals. I want trees and beautiful green green grass that turns purple with young irises, and flowers everywhere, and walking home in sudden showers, and short sleeves, and bumblebees, and a sense of love mingling with the heavy April perfume in the air. More than anything, I want that. A bit of love to further sweeten the coming of spring.

And I'm going to be eighteen soon! Man, in only about a week.... That's kind of cool... I haven't really thought about it. I'd like to have a party, I mean, eighteen seems sort of important. I'll be able to drive and smoke and watch porn (legally) if I want to... yeech. But still, I want to celebrate, at least a little. Anyone want to give me ideas? I'd been considering a costume party....

saint valentine would not have approved.

2005-02-14T21:49:36Z

So... this thing.. this "updating" thing... I have to do that more often. Anyway, I didn't write about Gillian right after Gillian because I was I afraid I was too tired to give it a review that it deserved. I still probably can't, except to say that I was very impressed by it, and pleasantly so. It was a wonderful surprise.

Let's see... fun at Districts, didn't make regionals (number eleven out of ten), c'est la vie... Ariel and I met a cool kid named Brandon. A very cool, flirty kid who wore an engraved ring on his left hand that declared, "TRUE LOVE WAITS." Oh, the irony. I laughed about it, quietly, and after the fact.

The time flies, stopping for more doctor's appointments, a Power Game test where I made up half the answers (on which, I am very proud to say, I received a B), entertaining late-night phone calls, and more stress than I know what to do with, all resulting from my lack of time and unwillingness to do what I need to during that time.

I went to Chicago this past weekend for a Northwestern audition (Evanston, to be more precise) and stayed in this lovely antiquated bed-and-breakfast called the Margarita Inn, built in 1927 as a working women's residence. Cool place. Sitting in the parlor by the fire at night with 30's love songs on the radio made me feel at home, like I'd finally reached the decade I was supposed to be born in. And when I actually went to Chicago, I had to do something Ferris Bueller-related, so while my mom complained about my laziness and went off somewhere without me, I found my way down to the Sears Tower, rode up to the skydeck, stood on the railing and leaned my forehead against the window and looked down. It was, in fact, quite peaceful.

The audition went well. They smiled at me this time, and asked me questions, unlike the BU folk, which was reassuring, but I still didn't know what to do with my hands while I sang. I'm so awkward.

NYU happens on Thursday and guess who's unprepared as usual? I think I'm getting used to the fact that they're not going to pick me out of the thousands and thousands of hopefuls who apply there every year (not to mention prepare for their entire lives beforehand). In the meantime, I'll do what I can in the short time I have and hope, as always, for the best.

So it was Valentine's Day today, and I dressed in my traditional black, in mourning for the fourth time in four years of high school. I did get a rose, however, because Emma dropped one from her dozen and didn't pick it up, so I figured it was up for grabs. No Merionite valentines, but they did use my silly commissioned comic about campus aides. Better than nothing, I s'pose.

Maybe I expected something to happen. I wanted a secret admirer, an anonymous rose-giver. I wanted a candy heart slipped into my hand by someone who intended its message to mean more than a passing amusement. I wanted somebody to come up to me with sincerity in their eyes and do something... even just give me a cheesy pick-up line, so at least I could feel special for a couple of minutes, so I'd at least have a reason to whip out the red shirt I kept hopefully in my backpack all day. Heh, well... no, I didn't actually have a red shirt, but still.

Don't get me wrong, those people who don't care for my ranting (who are undoubtedly reading this journal). I'm not searching for empathy or an expression of self-pity. I'm not nearly as serious or bitter as the words I write. Half the time I end up hyperbolizing a passing sentiment into a fantabulously disproportionate fictional work. It's fun.

I guess I'm just trying to be poetically bitter from a single, silly, hopeless-romantic-temporary-teen-angst point of view. I do that a lot... :) I'm very fond of the concept of Valentine's Day, but this one was rainy and I had to walk home in it, which stunk and made my feet wet. Then I tried to take a bath to get warm but the water got very cold very fast. Which also stunk.

I blame this entry on a need to catch up on a few years of sleep. Don't make my mistake, kids. Eight hours a night, minimum. Eat your green vegetables. And be sure to pause a moment and take in the smell of a fresh rose whenever you see one.

What do I care if icicles form?

2005-01-19T22:19:50Z

I'm pretty happy right now. Haven't updated in a bit, but this moment was nice enough to motivate me to write something. These days, things have to get pretty motivational for that.

In any case, it's snowing outside. I walked home in it, freezing but very content at the same time. It's a fresh snow, not too many cars or people have broken it yet. I'm alone in the house wearing fleece socks, next to a radiator. Life is good.

Of course, then I'll inevitably get to thinking about everything I have to do, including the music I need to find for my BU audition next week... my room seems to have eaten it. I have to memorize monologues for my Tisch thingy.... I want so badly to go there, and yet I haven't yet been able to make time to work on my audition. I still have time, a period I know that I can be prepared in, but I haven't been banging away at it for months like most people probably have. It's my own fault, I know, but I still think I can do well.

The house isn't empty anymore. My sisters are wreaking havoc downstairs, by the sound of it. Oh well. This entry was pretty pointless, but that just goes to show the reason I never update... I really don't have much to say.

I'll make it better next time. ^.^

Still alive, barely..

2005-01-03T00:55:28Z

Spent an amazing weekend with Temma, Jason, Matt and the ever-present Goldman in Matt's grandparent's loft in Soho. We braved the pre-Times Square crowds to stand in the incredibly short line for the TKTS booth, and got second-row tickets to Woody Allen's new play, A Second-Hand Memory, at the Atlantic Theater Company. Really good stuff, I highly recommend it. We went to the roof of the loft to witness midnight, with Times Square in one direction and some harbor in the other, both shooting off fireworks. We toasted with sake in small brown cups to a bright, prosperous new year, one which will hold the beginning of the rest of our lives.

And I can't take twenty minutes to go out for ice cream tonight because my mother "lets me do everything I want." So I can't go. This logic seems a bit flawed to me, but so does this woman. I can't wait to get away from her.

So I'll fix up my backpack, have some tea, a shower, sleep, and dread the dawn. It could be worse, but I prefer not to think about that.. heh...

Happy new year, everyone. If you have good new year's stories, lemme hear. :)

Collegecollegecollegebadgerbadgerbadgercollegecollege

2004-12-05T19:55:30Z

So instead of sleeping last night I cleaned the entire house in an effort to get my mom to stop yelling at me. Now I have to finish all my college applications... which wouldn't take long at all, if I could think of something to write about for my essay....

In the meantime, I procrastinate.

Your Stripper Name is: Red

Get your own Stripper Name

^.~

Your Beauty lies
in Contradiction. Controversial, unpredictable, and
never what anyone expects.
You appearance and your personality are two
opposite things. Even your
appearance sends different signals to different
people. To some you may look
innocent and sweet, to others you look mysterious
and intimidating at the same
time. No one ever knows what to expect with you.
You are a little bit of
everything all mixed together. You can be watching
the football game with the
guys one minute and the next out shopping at the
mall. You seem to be almost a
different person every time you meet someone, but
at the same time you know
exactly who you are and there is always that one
thing that makes you you. You
enjoy keeping people guessing and people love how
completely unpredictable you
are.

Some Things
That Represent You:

Element:
Fire, Water Animal: Chameleon Color:
Dark Tones, Light
Tones Song: Everything by Alanis Morriesette
Expression:
Half-smile

Gemstone:
Opal Mythological Creature: Gryphon,
Half-breeds Planet: Mars Hair
Color: Red Eye Color:
Brown

Quote:
"Appearances can be deceiving."

Where Does Your Beauty Lie? ..::Original Pictures Are Back! Detailed Results::..
brought to you by Quizilla

Cinderelly

2004-11-21T22:07:00Z

That had to be one of the most wonderful and redeeming experiences of my life. I cried out of nervousness beforehand, grew calm with the routine of performing, had my heart beat madly in the presence of great talent, and cried again upon seeing almost nine hundred people on their feet to applaud us. And then again with the help of Molly's quote from The Little Prince and the realization that this is my last musical with Players, and, more importantly, my last performance with Players. And hopefully this time I can say I went out on a good note. Literally.