Thursday, November 30, 2006

totally taking a break

So I informed some people of my desire to take a break from shows. They were like "WHAAAT? you haven't even done that many!"


January: rehearsals for the CSUB One Acts
February: CSUB One Acts (acting)
March/April: rehearsals for Execution of Justice at BC
May: Execution of Justice, rehearsals for BCT One Acts
June: BCT One Acts (lights, directing and writing), rehearsals for Pinocchio
July: Pinnochio at BCT (stage managing), rehearsals for Daryl
August: Daryl at BCT (stage managing), rehearsals for Picnic
September: Picnic at BCT (acting), rehearsals for Project Murder(?)
October: Project Murder at the Empty Space (acting)
November: rehearsals for Velveteen Rabbit at BCT (assistant directing)
December: It's a wonderful Life at Jewel Box Theatre (stage managing)

Ten shows in a row.
I'd say I could stand to take a break for a few months.

...and if I even mention auditioning for a show please smack me.

buried, drowning in words.

I can't stop thinking about my day.
I did so much and yet I feel like I didn't do anything.

I think I'm still measuring busyness and doing things by other people's standards. It's like, if you didn't leave the house until 6 pm you didn't do anything. Well, you know what...I wrote. I wrote like all day long and believe me, it was exhausting. There are just so many words, a million ways to say one thing.

It's like giving blood.
Sometimes it's a painful process, but it has the potential to be life saving.
Well, that is a bit dramatic. But it's true, and gives me something to do now that I'm not in school.

Since I gave up on school, I have felt kind of lost. I mean, I made my bed and I plan to lie in it but everyone just keeps telling me I'm too smart to quit.
"You're smarter than that." they say.
While I do appreciate the faith (but not) that you might have in my intelligence, I made my decision. It's not where I want to be right now. End of story.

You know, I used to find immense importance in physical things, pleasure especially...of a sexual nature usually. But some nights ago, I realized that how we feel and what we feel are not always connected. And I also realized that no matter how much you want to...there are just some things you can't say. Won't say.
I used to just blurt things out not caring if the timing was right...but I think that the older I've gotten the more I have realized that words are sensitive creatures...things have to be just so.

All I want right words. Comforting words. Words I've never heard before. Ones I have but not in a while.
Written. Spoken. Screamed. Whispered.

Just say it.

This is the only time when I'm totally sure. When I'm not scared...when the words come from my fingers and not my mouth

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

mini story morsels

If they mated:

So, I was talking to a friend of mine and they said something that I am still not sure how to interpret:
"If Lucille Ball and Paul Lynde had a would be you, sweetheart"

Oddly enough, this friend was not the first to call me Lynde-ish. I'm a cackling, drunk gay man. That's so hot.

Poo shoes:

I was going through my closet looking for something cute to wear for opening night (I always dress up opening night, no matter what my involvement in a show is) and I found my tall boots. My deliciously naughty, high heeled, knee high boots. I almost squealed, having not seen them since last winter. Imagine my surprise when I lifted them out of their box and found poo. Cat poo. New cat poo. Now how the hell do you get cat poo out of suede?! Damn cat.
Needless to say, they are going into retirement.
Anyone know where I can get some not hella expensive boots?

Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeks:

Two tech weeks in a row. Ay dios mio! I'm going to lose my mind. More importantly, I'm not going to be able to spend any time with the friends I have that are not in my shows. Sure, I'll get to see Shannon, Liz, Tim (It's a Wonderful Life) and Julie (Velveteen Rabbit) but everyone else, unfortunately, will probably get neglected. Ugh, and the CB...sometimes I think I'll never see him again. Busy folks, both of us are.
I hope by now that everyone understands this theatre thing.

Weight loss secret:

Rice Chex and fat free milk. Seriously it seems like that's all I've eaten the past two weeks and I swear I've lost like six pounds. Why didn't I figure this out sooner?

Yar...that's about it.
Ohhhh, and if any of my Bakersfield theatre friends read this...there is going to be a Hellcat meeting on Friday at Border's on Stockdale. We start talking business at two, and when that's done we'll be discussing the sketch comedy project, so if you've written a sketch bring it in, and if not then maybe we can start from scratch. Everyone is welcome, the more the merrier!

Friday, November 24, 2006

Thankful things and smatterings of clarity

If you know me, you know I just don't seem like the mushy type. In fact, I'm NOT the mushy type. But there's just something about seeing everyone together, alive, and mostly healthy that makes me melt a little.
Don't get me wrong, they drive me a little insane...but I love my family. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about, and silently pray for, every single one of them. Not that I don't trust them to live their lives without somehow getting killed or maimed, but since my uncle died I've been alot more watchful, protective, paranoid even.

Like I said to my youngest cousin today before she took off on her quad:
"Be careful. Dying's bad, mmkay?"

She thought I was joking, and when she came back in one piece she said "I'm alive!".
She really has no idea how thankful I am for that.
That everyone is alive.
That I'm alive.
That there was pie...

Enough schmaltzy crap, let's move onto the smatterings of clarity.

I have realized that I allow my friends to pick on me too much, and saying "dude, not cool" does not suffice when they actually hit a nerve.
Sure, I should just be a good sport about it and let them pick, knowing that they'd be wrong about most things they say on the off chance that they're actually being malicious. Most of them, I know it's all in good fun, but a few of them I'm starting to wonder about.

Did I tell you the Mini Cooper story?!

I was talking to a friend about what kind of cars we wanted. She says..."blah blah blah Honda blah" and I said "I'd pick a Mini Cooper. They're cute"

She says:
"Yeah, I noticed that alot of big people drive Minis"
and no, she didn't mean tall when she said big.

All I could say was "Dude..."
she laughed. and laughed. and laughed.
and then she asked, quite insincerely "I'm sorry, did I offend you?"

No shit.
But seriously, I love it when my friends who aren't much smaller than me feel the need to call me big even though they know I've been having major mental rumblings about the state of my body. Oh, and thanks for making me cry. It always makes me feel like a mentally stable lumberjack Marine.

Hi sarcasm! You're my favorite.

The next time someone says something like that they are being told to fuck off.

...and now onto Christmas!

Monday, November 20, 2006

Part of a short story, hope you like it.

A cold, salty breeze pushed it's way all the way from the ocean into town, changing things. I pulled my sweater closer, cursing the fallen off buttons. I could go inside, if not for all the yelling. I had left the way I always did...I scooted past them, not making any noise, slid out the door and across the yard. They wouldn't see me, it was dark enough.

I didn't know where I was going, I never did. sometimes I would leave mindlessly and end up somewhere I didn't want to walk all the way home from. Stuff like that could be dangerous, someone said to me once. Yeah, but they weren't local. Anywhere over here would be dangerous for them. Especially with that Louis Vuitton purse and those fake nails. What was a rich person doing overhere anyway?
I turned the corner and got slapped in the face by hanging, dry palm leaves. I knew they were there, I just seemed to always forget. Through the alley, around the broken couch, away from the familiar places, I was trying to get lost on the main road. I always thought that maybe, just maybe , someone would find me, love me, take me away. But it never happened. Usually it was just Paola and the kids, on the way back from church, or Claudio and Marco. People I knew, people who would make me take a ride home when all I wanted was to just leave. It seemed like someone was always bringing me back home. I'd smile, say thank you, and hop in. Hop out when we got there, thank them again and promise to stay out of trouble, to not walk so far. But they knew...they knew the next time things got loud I'd be gone. I hope they didn't feel bad for me. I never liked that.
Half a mile and no one stopped me yet. I was glad. Maybe I'd make it wherever I was going. My chanclas made a skidding sound when I walked, brushing against the concrete and fallen leaves. Sounded good with the swish of my corderoys. Like a song.
Chanclas. Paola taught me that word. I liked it, for some reason. Really, Paola had taught me almost everything I needed to know in order to get along there without making trouble. I tried to tell my Ma but she wouldn't listen. She thought she could just do and say whatever. That's why she got heckled so much on her way home. Sometimes I was scared for her...but what can I say, she kind of brought it on herself. But I always knew she'd be alright, Marco knew she was my Ma. That meant she'd be safe.
But she should have learned, like me, that there are some people you don't look in the eye unless they say it's ok. You have to earn that eye contact, that respect. You don't just get it, and if they ask you to take something down somewhere, make a delivery, you do it. You never say no, especially to Marco. He was nice enough, but you just didn't want to say no. I felt kind of honored because after a while he started coming straight to me when he had a package needed delivering. That was a big deal 'cause believe you me, I was the only skinny white girl he let deliver for him. In fact, I think I was the only skinny white girl that was allowed to talk to him, that he liked talking to. That's why he liked me...he said, because I wasn't as white as I looked.
Sometimes, we'd sit on his front lawn across from each other, and he'd smoke his weed and blow the sweet smoke in my direction. A gift in the form of a little contact high. That's when I knew he trusted me.
He never let me smoke though, said I was too pretty and that smoking destroys your face."that's why my old lady has wrinkles already" he coughed, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nostrils "she smokes more 'n I!"
I don't think he thought that through, but I trusted him at the time. I trusted him, and sometimes I thought I'd do anything for him.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

The company has a Myspace!

In case you didn't friends and I started a theatre company. Yeah, I know it sounds like some amateur crap but we're really gonna go for it!

So, check us out on Myspace:

or email us


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

in the middle

I am going to admit something.
This isn't a plea for pity, because that kind of crap just pisses me off.
Once you know, we can discuss can ask me about it, but if you attempt to stage some sort of intervention I will cut you.

I have a problem with food.
It is food's fault that I'm not a thin-ish Hottie McHotster dancer anymore. Oh man, I was so hot.
But food man! Seriously!
I love it...I love to eat it, I love to make it. But I hate it at the same time. So sometimes I don't eat it. Hell, I could go a week without eating and I would be perfectly fine. In fact, fairly recently I was able to avoid food for about three days. It made me feel powerful, better, lighter, more in control...and then it almost made me pass out.
Stupidly stupid bad habit yes...I won't argue with you on that.

Realizing that it was so close to Thanksgiving freaked me out. I used to look forward to it, but the last few years it's been nervewracking for me. All that food that my family won't let me get away with not eating.

Two pressures, to eat and to not, both raging in my mind. Panic attack inducing, almost. I would normally just, not go...but seeing as how we're all thankful that great grandma made it through her surgery and is doing well there is no way that would fly.

I just feel so stuck in the middle.
I mean, like I said before...I love food, and Thanksgiving is pretty much the most kickass holiday next to Saint Patrick's Day (sorry but food has never beat alcohol for me, ever) but I know I'm going to go on a weird not eating kick and a hardcore working out kick and it's just...bah.

You know?

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

get a jorb

I'm starting to think that I'm just not funny enough to have a job. Whenever I go into interviews everyone appears to be very chatty...and I just cannot believe that is in fact how they are all the time. Or maybe I'm wrong, they are...but I'm not and that's why I remain jobless.

So maybe next time I go in and they ask me
"Why should we hire you?"
instead of saying "because I'm _______ " (insert good thing)
I should say:
"Because, I'm awesome!" or "BECAUSE I ROCK EVERYONE'S FACES!"

and if they ask me:
"Why do you want to work here?"
I will say
"Because I want to put someone's calculator in jello like Jim did on The Office. HIGH FIVE!"

or maybe when they say I gave a good interview I can say:
"Thanks bitch" like Nicole Richie would. I'm so not over her yet.

Oh, or again, when they say I gave a good interview I'll say:
"Thanks for that, I hope you have a beautiful life because I know that there's no way in hell you're going to call me back" because that's what keeps happening.

Well, there's always prostitution.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Decision 2006

I hopped out of the car, a goodly amount of annoyance already clouding my mind. There was a grip of people standing in line, waiting to pass through the metal detector and vote. Metal detector? Really?
Something told me not everyone was here to vote, but the reason alludes me now. Probably just skepticism on my part, or maybe the fact that when I went to lose my voting virginity there in 2004 it was almost exactly the same time and I only had about two people ahead of me.
The guy in front of me had a puffy jacket on, with fur trim on the hood, so I thought I'd talk to him. I opened my mouth to speak and he waved me off "I'm not here to vote, I'm just waiting in line with my girlfriend". Great, I thought, Jigglypuff thinks I'm using my rights as an American citizen to pick up dudes. Had this been jury duty, he wouldn't have been wrong.
Girlfriend peeked her head out from behind his puffiness and waved. She had a crazed look in her eye, the kind Martha Stewart got that day that she taught us how to dress babies as Thanksgiving foods.
"I love voting!" she proclaimed "It's just like, the most important thing you could ever do!". Someone behind us gave a mocking "woot" and someone in front of us let out a long, drawn out sincere one. I gave a golf clap and halfway smiled back at her as she jumped up and down, apparently encouraged by the outburst.
Not one to leave well enough alone, I turned my attention back to her boyfriend.
"Not registered to vote eh?" I asked, only somewhat interested in his answer.
"Just don't wanna."
"Oh, well...there it is."
Girlfriend let the Mozart laugh fly out of her mouth unashamedly. I knew there was a reason why I sort of liked her.
Puffy turned to her and made a shushing sound, like it would have stopped her. It didn't. She continued snorting and chortling and nudging the people around her throughout the entire encounter. I hope she knew them.
"Look," he began, redfaced "I just don't vote ok. There's no point."
"What makes you think that?"
"I'm not in college, so my vote doesn't count. Everyone knows that!"
Unsure whether or not he meant the Electoral College or college in general I decided not to press that issue.
I turned to speak to the slightly less cantankerous person behind me, but before I could say anything Puffy tapped me on the shoulder.
"...and besides that, I don't think it's cool that you have to pick sides. You know, Republican or Democrat."
"You could always vote issue by issue. And since this is like a midterm election, that's really what you'll be doing more of. I mean, aside from voting for members of Congress and state legislatures and stuff like that."
"Still, not cool that they make you choose. What if you don't fit in as a Republican or Democrat?"
I was really starting to think he was screwing with my mind.
I blinked. "You do know that there are other parties right? Independent, Green, Libertarian..." he didn't stop me, so I continued "America First, Socialist, Peace and Freedom, American Nazi, Labor, Light, Natural Law..."
"Alright Gonzo Politicker, I get the point" he grumbled, shrugging me off for a second time.

I wonder if he'll register and vote next time...
I'm not counting on it.

At least he didn't run by yelling "only dweebs vote, Votey McDweeberson!" like someone did the first time I voted.
God Bless America, ya'll!

Friday, November 10, 2006

stress, surgery and theatre theatre theatre!

Great grandma is alive and doing fine, but for some reason I can't stop stressing. I guess there was something else in my mind that was eating away at me...something that I just can't put my finger on. I hope I figure it out soon before I start losing some of my luscious locks!

You know, I was thinking about this as I posted and reposted bulletins on Myspace about the various shows that are going on around town right now:
as much as it freaks me out, and stresses me out and makes me want to eat my own is just terribly exciting (even if I'm not directly involved with a show, whenever I hear that one is opening I get a tingly feeling in my stomach and silently, or sometimes not so, wish everyone a good show ) and I don't think I'll be able to quit anytime soon. I should probably take a little bit of a break, but I don't think I'd quit forever.

I know, I know...glutton for punishment much? Yes, yes I am. But for now, I'm going to go to as many shows as I can, wish my friends broken legs (you know what I mean!) and enjoy myself as much as I can. A mini break, if you will...and I think I deserve it.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

In the Navy?

Let me preface this story by saying:
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm just not the hardworking type. I mean, I get stuff done...sure. But when the going gets tough, I usually pass the job to someone else or give up. Not a good habit, and a habit I'm trying to break...but a habit nonetheless.

That being said, I feel that it will take a very dire situation or decision on my own part to change my ways, being that I am twenty years set into them. Apparently, my grandparents agree.

I came home Sunday night from an outing to find an packet of papers on my bed, face down. I turn it over and what do I find in big, bold letters? UNITED STATES NAVY.
This packet claims it's glad that I requested the information contained therein. Little does it know I had nothing to do with its arrival at my home. I flip it over, and over and is indeed addressed to me and yes indeed it is from the United States Navy.

In all the turning a little snippet of paper had fallen off of the envelope.
Confused, and slightly annoyed, I picked the paper up and opened it. It read:

Hate to say it, but you're lazy. We feel the Navy will be a step in the right direction.

Just think about it.
Grandma and Grandpa


Very funny. They take that one incident when I screamed at them "THAT'S IT! I'M RUNNING AWAY AND JOINING THE NAVY!" and use it against me a full ten years later. Typical.

I decide to humor them and read the damn thing...after all, I was already home which meant my fun was over for the night. I changed out of my skirt and into some sweatpants, and curled up with my new literature.

I'm not totally convinced. However, if I had to join the military, I'm sure I'd pick the Navy, despite their propensity towards being out to sea (which I am immensely terrified of) for extended periods of time.

But the uniforms are pretty sexy.
Hot damn, I think I might join up!

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Girls Next Door

As much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like that show. I mean, what's not to like? Three beautiful (albeit dorky) women cavorting around a mansion...usually in costumes. If Hef were a little younger it would be a bi girl's dream show.

Mindless as it may be, it really brings up an important issue for me:
as progressive as I would like to think that I am, I'm not too sure that I could share my man like that. Physically, yeah...I have no problem with that. In fact the occasional tryst with someone else or the occasional threesome probably does more good than it does conjunction with a few ground rules, etc. Call me crazy but it all sounds pretty fun to me. (says the girl who is currently single. HA!)

However...even if he is acting, Hef really seems to genuinely to be in love all three girls. Sure, he loves one more than the others, but you know. How ok would I be with the one I love loving someone else as well as me? Love is such an important part of who we are, how we see ourselves, how we see other people.

As my idol, W.A. Mozart says:
"Love, love, love...that is the soul of genius"

I think that rings true on many levels.
Art can be better with love behind it. True, lost, or is fuel. I know that it has been for me, as I inch closer to loving myself, loving my friends, loving life. You'll say I have no idea what love is, I'm only twenty...blah blah blah. But I beg to differ. I have seen a house without love, and I have seen a house full of it. There is a difference, a very palpable one, and I can tell.
As far as genius goes, don't we all feel a little smarter, a little more clever when you finally figure
it out and find someone that loves you? (as if you planned the whole thing yourself. pfft!)

Maybe I should just move in with two other girls and an aging magazine test the theory.

Friday, November 03, 2006

pink phase

Like Picasso, I tend to label my emotions by color instead of trying to concoct a complex string of phrases that will no doubt just bore whomever I am speaking to at the time.

When it is spring and I feel fresh, and every whiff of air is crisp and light...I tend to feel green.
When it is winter or I just feel like hibernating...I feel gray.
When I'm just confused, and have no idea what's going on in my life and I just want to crawl in a hole and die...I feel brown.
And when I have just finished doing something naughty, I feel black and red. Or black and blue depending on who my partner in crime was. HA!

But right now, I'm in a pink phase. I feel pretty, and soft, and sweet...but with an edge. So, I guess hot pink.

Yes. Hot pink.

pretty, sweet, sexy, bold, cute, soft, naughty, attention getting, amazing, feminine.

Oh my, what's happening to me?

*sigh, swoon, sneeze*

Really good night.
Might write a story or at least a little snippet about it soon...unless he objects.


Wednesday, November 01, 2006


What would life be like if we didn't have bodies? If we were just floating orbs of personality...

I think that I neglect my soul. I get so wrapped up in the physical. My image, my desires, my pains. The moment my muscles start to ache I run for pain medication. The moment I feel the twinge of lust I have it taken care of. But what do I do when my heart aches and I feel like if one more damn thing happens I'm going to lose it?


I don't tell anyone, I don't even allow myself to think about it. I throw it down, I shove it down, I swallow it down until it feels like it's gone. But it's not. It's not's there stacking up. Piling one on top of another and I'm almost full.

I don't know how to purge.

What can I say? What can I do to clear my soul of all these toxins that I've been keeping in? Everyone says to talk about it but I can't. It makes me so uncomfortable to think that maybe people know that I have feelings.
Kind of like when I was in school and I didn't want my teachers to know I was smart because they'd never cut me any slack if they knew. I don't want to have to always be emotional. I don't want people to see me as "that girl with problems".

I want to be an orb. An orb of personality with no body.