Wandering . . .

Someone very wise once told me that if something in your life takes from you without giving anything back, dump it and move forward. It's extremely good advice. I think we've all found ourselves in situations where something or someone we thought was important, even essential, is nothing more than a great drain on our self-worth, our happiness, and our very soul. But, cutting out that situation is often easier said than done.

People will often tell you, "If you hate your job, go do something else! If you're unhappy, do something that makes you happy!" Maybe they say that less in this economy. But, I still hear it. Yes, currently, I am unhappy. My work makes me feel ill when I wake up in the mornings, my hands shake. I count the hours and the minutes each day until I can walk out the door. It wasn't always this way; in the beginning it was great. But, things have changed, and for me those changes haven't been improvements. Though I've been studiously looking for something else, it's been three months, and I feel no closer to getting out of this situation and into a better one. I've started to have nightmares I have trouble shaking during the day, and my body is starting to pay the price for the constant stress.

Still, there are things I try to do to make up for the 9-5 stress during the week. The weekends are my creative haven, just for me to recharge my batteries. I am trying to get back into a writing headspace, thinking about branching out into some new craft projects I haven't attempted before, and trying to think of anything else I can do (cheaply) to grab some happy out of the gloom.

Soon, things will change. Something will come knocking, and I'll grab that with both hands and hold on tight to see where it takes me. Until then, I'll keep wandering and hoping and recharging when I can. I hope you can all do the same.

Evil Thoughts . . .

After the terrible day I had yesterday, I definitely need a nice distraction. What's better than chocolate and eating my feelings? A new, utterly pointless project! This morning I found this link and picture on my Facebook feed, and checked out the work of incredible papier mache artist, Dan Reeder. He got a commission to make a trophy of Maleficent's head from "Sleeping Beauty", and the results are pretty amazing.

Using paper and cloth soaked in glue, fimo clay, glass eyes, and a shitload of green LED's, Dan created the coolest representation of one of Disney's coolest villains (if not THE coolest villain, IMO). Naturally, instead of looking at something like this and thinking, "Wouldn't it be cool to have somebody make something like that for me?" I'm sitting here thinking, "How do I make that???" I'm not saying I'm going to do it. But, newspaper and glue are pretty cheap . . .

And in the End . . .

In 1998, I met someone who would inspire me and keep me going through some of the hardest days on my life. Paul Schierhorn was my college counselor, a professor at Tulane University's Theatre Department and the person most responsible for not letting me quit on life even when that was what I wanted most of all. He was more then my teacher. He was my friend.

I'll never forget being in "Working", crying because I was crumbling from the pressures of my life and I didn't think I could perform the song he'd asked me to do. "Give the song to someone else," I begged. With tears in his eyes, he said, "No. I'm not going to let you quit. You can do this. I believe in you." And, I did. I sang the shit out of that song. Not long after, he was in a bike accident and sustained a head injury, and many of us thought he wouldn't make it. But, he fought, and he pulled through and he was back teaching a few months later.

Later that same year, the end of my sophomore year, I was ready to leave Tulane and go home, broken and failed. I knew there was nothing anyone could say to change my mind. I was finished. He changed my mind. He patiently and gently but with passionate convinction convinced me to come back for one more year. Again, he wouldn't let me quit. And, I was in one of the best productions, one of the most fulfilling theatrical experiences, I've ever had as a result. And, I was in it with him.

Over the years, we have stayed in touch. He once walked to my house just to have lunch with me. He still believed in me, even eleven years after I left school. We spoke on Facebook just a month or two ago. I always assumed I'd see him again one day, and get to thank him for what he gave me.

He has passed away. The world has lost a rich, strong voice, and a wonderful human being. He changed my life, and the lives of many others.

Thank you, Paul, for never letting me quit.

My Soul to Keep . . .

As somebody who greatly values independence, it sure can suck sometimes, being alone.

There were times, growing up, never having any privacy, that I would fantasize about one day having my own place, getting up and going to sleep when I chose, eating in bed if I wanted, reading all day in my pj's. Now that I'm officially a grownup I can say definitively that I sometimes do those things, and that kinda rocks about living on my own. Nobody to answer to, nobody to consider if I make plans. It's nice not to worry about pleasing anyone but myself, sometimes.

Then I get a night like Saturday night.

I don't often have nightmares; they usually cluster around when I'm stressed out, unsurprisingly. And, most of the time, when I wake, I realize that a nightmare is nothing more than that; they even seem silly when I open my eyes. But, every once in a while, I get a nightmare like the one that woke me on Saturday, a little after 11pm, my heart pounding, palms sweating.

I'd been driving. Not an inherently frightening task, I'll grant you. Just driving, at night. I generally sleep with a sleep mask and ear plugs, as my neighborhood/building can be a little noisy and I sleep lightly, and in the dream I had that mask on and it kept slipping over my eyes, making it hard to see where I was going. Suddenly I drove into a dark area, and I don't just mean the streetlights had gone out. I was on a road dipped in pitch, and my headlights could only illuminate a short distance in front of me. The sleep mask kept slipping down, and I kept pushing it up. Then, my headlights showed people, and I rolled down my passenger window: to the right of me, people were running in the street. They were going the same direction I was driving, and in my head I asked myself: "Why is it so dark suddenly? And what are they all running from?" I wanted to shout out the window and ask, but part of me was too afraid to find out. And, I could barely see. There was something behind me in the dark, and I could barely see to get away.

I awoke, and as I lay in the dark I pulled out my earplugs, convinced I could not sleep with them because I would miss hearing something, some noise that could save me. I took off the sleep mask, too creeped out to put it back on. And, I lay there terrified, absolutely sure something dreadful was coming.

I know talking about it would have made it easier, that the fear would have receded and I would have been able to go back to sleep comforted. But, I was reminded, viscerally, that I am alone now. There was no one next to me, or on the other side of the door, or down the hall, to tell. No one I could call at so late an hour without greatly inconveniencing them for something so silly and unimportant. So, I lay there, heart pounding, jumping at every sound, and tried to close my eyes.

If I'd known this was what it meant, growing up, I might have run away to Neverland ages ago.

The Saga Ends . . .

An update, for those who don't know how the Television Saga turned out:

Yes, I got my tv.

The whole thing was kind of hilarious/awful. but I'll give you the highlights:

-On Thursday,when the tv was supposed to arrive at the store for pickup, it didn't. I called the store several times, and then called Best Buy Customer Service again. Thank god for Jaqueline. I spoke to her on two consecutive nights, and she literally saved me as a customer. after all the hassle, she said, "I'd like to offer you a Best Buy gift card for all this trouble." I'm thinking, $15, right? Nope. $75. Thanks, Jaqueline.

-On Friday, according to Fedex, the tv arrived at the store. So, I'm on the phone with the store, trying to loate it. Is it there? Is it checked in? I hadn't gotten an email saying it was ready, and I still hadn't been charged. Adrianna, who I also spoke to on two consecutive days, assured me that yes, the television was here. I could come get it after my movie was over (I was going to see "Brave" that night). I took a breath.

-As of 4pm, I still hadn't been charged for said-tv. I called the store back. Surprise, surprise: they couldn't charge me. It wouldn't go through in their system. AGAIN. Adrianna said that at this point, they would cancel the order and I could come in, at which time they would basically sell me the tv.

-At 8:30pm, I show up, and the tv is rolled out for me. In a huge fucking box. the guy behind the counter laughs and says, "I hope this will fit in your car! You'd be surprised the people who show up to buy big tv's with tiny cars!" Chuckle, chuckle. I cringe, smile, and say, "Believe me, I'll make it fit."

-I wheel the cart out to my car and sure enough, the box is too big. Without missing a beat, I open the box and take out the actual tv, encased in giant blocks of foam, and put that into my car. Carefully. Like it's made of gold, which, at this point, it feels like it might be.

-I head home and set up the tv and dvd player, plug them in, and turn those suckers on. Success.

I just got my gift card in the mail and bought four dvds with it, ensuring that my July 4th will be well-spent. it is wonderful to finally have a screen that I can see from ten feet away (and hear); perhaps its a silly thing to be happy about, but I'm happy all the same. That being said, I will never buy a tv this way again. Yeesh.

Let Freedom Ring . . .

Today we celebrate the day our country took its first step towards becoming, well, a country. Happy Independence Day, everyone.

Labyrinth of Jareth

The Ball was held at the Park Plaza Hotel, and holy cow, is it gorgeous. You have to allow me a few pictures to show the various rooms and areas, because the setting really made the night. I'm not some wedding-crazy woman, but if I were getting married, I would definitely consider this place. It's not in such a great area, but you forget that as you step inside. This is the Grand Staircase, guarded before the night began and the gates were opened at the top.

This was the ballroom at the top ofvthe stairs, all heavy-beamed ceiling and gold gilding. I really wish I'd had a partner to waltz with.

One of the many beautiful iron chandeliers throughout the hotel.

One of the downstairs rooms.

Now, some attendees. Steampunk was fucking EVERYWHERE. I'm so glad I did not dress in steampunk. It was done to DEATH. There were some cool examples, but for the most part I started to feel a huge steampunk-ennui by the end of the night, and actively sought out other costumes to admire.

Death and her brother Dream showed up right before I left and I snapped a quick picture. She was pretty cute;)

This chick looked awesome. She had this cage strapped to her back wreathed in blue lights, and I never got the chance to ask her about it. I had to take a picture, of course.

I REALLY wish this picture wasn't so frigging dark The best look of the night, in my opinion, was the little girl dressed as Claudia. She was prefect: sweet, beautiful golden curls and blue dress . . . and so creepy as a result! They were there early and left early, naturally: she was maybe eight, so it was past her bedtime. I hope she had fun; she definitely knew how to pose for the photographers:)

There was a spotlight in the lobby and it was a favorite picture spot. People would come in and stop, posing, while photogs snapped away. This group was pretty amazing-looking.

This girl was in a pretty decent Loki costume, and she was working the event. She stood on the steps all night, looking ready to kick Avenger ass. I hope she kept an eye out for the Hulk:)

All in all, I would have had more fun if I'd gone with someone or in a group, but it was still fun to people-watch (though it would have been better if I'd had a snark-partner!). There were a lot of lame, half-assed costumes, and quite a few women who thought this was an excuse to wear almost nothing. In fact, there was one couple dressed as Adam and Eve who were, quite literally, wearing pasties and almost nothing else. The stripper heels and bare bellies made me a little depressed, but the really awesome looks more than made up for it. There were definitely folks who went all out with a vengeance, and it made me proud to be a weirdo right along with them. I'm already starting to think about my ensemble for next year . . .