Loser. (Or, this last week.)

All righty then, now that we have my attitude for the day *cough* week *cough* accurately embedded in today's post, let's get this biznatch over with.

My last post was on Saturday morning. My parents had just come into town, and they took me to get a little food, dropped off cookies (yum!) and a few other things, i.e., clothing and other necessities.

So later that day my brother came into town for the game. He invited me, being the kind, loving brother he is, to go and tailgate with him and his friends. My brother is 23 years old. Obviously, this did not go well.

Don't get me wrong, I love my brother. I even love most of his friends. But it's not a good thing to be the awkward little sister around a bunch of guys drinking and talking about their high school and college days. You can't contribute anything to the conversation, all you can do is stand there and feel idiotic. Which is what I did for about an hour, until I went back to my dorm and studied until the game was close to starting.

So I leave my brother and his friends to their partying. I go to the appointed meeting place at the appointed time. And wait there for 20 minutes. I was really tempted to just go home. People kept coming up and asking me if I'm part of security or asking me for directions. Apparently I looked like an official or something. Sigh.

My brother and his friends finally get there, a little worse for wear (I don't think they'd deny this) and two random people I have never met before walk up to me and hug me. Drunkenly spitting in my face as they talk. Lovely.

We get to the field and, I won't lie, we have amazing seats--right at the south end of Kyle Field, underneath the scoreboard, right next to the field. I got some great pictures, at least, but it was really strange not to be standing for the game, or to be participating in any of the yells. I had fun with my brother at least--it was really good to see him--but it would have been a lot better if the game had gone better. I don't know if you heard, but we played FIU--Florida International--and we barely won. It was a really close thing. So my poor brother wasn't having much fun, and honestly, I don't think many people in the stadium were. We do have the most freaking loyal fans ever though, we just got louder and more enthusiastic as the game continued (I use "we" loosely-I wasn't with the students, remember). We ended up actually sitting on the grass watching the scoreboard so we could see what was going on. Surrounded by drunk seniors. Remind me not to ever let myself or my friends drunkenly scream the worst possible cuss words in front of little kids. That was ridiculous. My brother and his friend left early to miss the traffic--I stayed and took pictures as the team was coming off the field. Somehow managed a picture of this guy that went to my high school, graduated the same class as me--it's so freaking weird to see him, he's one of those guys I talked to maybe once in high school when we were in class freshman year together, but who I've known of all through high school because, well, with his insane height and weight, there's not a lot of people who make me feel small, and he's one of them. Doubly weird is the fact that my dad worked the street department with his dad and uncle one summer during high school. I know for a fact that I know more about them then they do about me--I doubt they even know who I am--which is just awkward, because it makes me feel like a stalker when it's just that my dad knows their parents, so he takes an interest in what their up to. I think they still talk occasionally, too. Point being, I never really know what to feel about watching him play. There's actually a lot of people here like that, people I knew in high school but was never really friends with, or that I knew of but didn't actually know, or even that I downright disliked. I always wonder what I'll say if I run into one of them--hi, you don't know me, but I'm that awkward kid who looked like Satan's protege freshman and sophomore year, turned into a hippie over summer vacation, did the nerd program at school, and still randomly dresses like Satan's protege (or a pirate, but that's another story). I know you. You're so and so. Well, that was properly awkward, let's say goodbye now.

Ugh. Makes me sick just thinking about it.

I had a hard time this week. First, random facts, then I'll go into details on why this week sucked.

First off, I've been fighting something all week. I don't know if it's the flu or I ate something I shouldn't have or even if it's just homesickness and depression, but I've felt rotten all week.

Second, I'm out of food. Ran out Tuesday. Back to eating once a day. Sigh.

Third, for some reason, maybe because of stress and worry over my tests this week, I have had horrible insomnia. Then, when I finally did fall asleep, I had nightmares. Every night this week. Which ranged from Hermione Granger-ish terrors of failing all my classes and being put either on academic probation or being kicked out of A&M, to being eaten by various wildlife, to those lovely falling nightmares. If I was falling down the rabbit hole, I'd be ok, but nooooo, I have to be falling down a giant bottomless PIT ringed by flames and creepy looking wasps. FML.

All this as a starting point, and maybe you'll get how much this week sucked. Start with Sunday. Sunday that kid I was hoping to be friends with the first week of classes and I got into an argument-he kept wanting me to skip studying and go party with him, he kept telling me that there was a frat party on this night, or a bar open this night, and Sunday he told me I was lame and a downer and a loser, so I told him to **** off. My temper can be a problem sometimes. He royally pissed me off though.

So I spent Sunday studying, when I could concentrate. I went into my dorm's study lounge, where it was nice and quiet and I had plenty of room to spread out. I'm in there an hour, two hours, when these girls come in and set up an xbox, turn the volume up all the way, and start playing some anime battle game where both of them were squealing and shouting the entire time. I gave up after a half hour or so and went to bed.

I had a test first thing on Monday, in Psych. That turned out all right--I ended up with an 86, which I thought was pretty good for my first college test ever. Then went to Shakespeare, which for some reason was irritatingly boring for the first time. Then to Poli Sci, where...oh, wait, can't go into that one. I'm not trying to be annoying--suffice to say, people confuse/irritate me.

Tuesday, let's see, Tuesday...went to acting, which was ok, and went to Script Analysis, which was pointless because she let us go as soon as we had turned in our homework. Went home and slept. Woke up to my seminar people calling me asking where I was--I slept through my alarm and ended up running to meet them.

We met Sonia Nazario on Tuesday. Definitely the highlight of the week. The big problem for me was that, well, this class is a lot more conservative than I am. People kept asking her questions like, "Do you think that immigrant children in the school systems is bringing down the quality of education?" and basically trying to turn complicated issues into "blame the Mexicans" statements. I felt really uncomfortable. Immigration is a big issue where I'm from, and not in a good way--the last time I got into an immigration debate, my best friend and I ended up screaming at each other for an hour and a half. I might've mentioned that before, actually. Point is, I have a harder time talking politics here than I ever have in my life; I actually WANT to have friends these four years, I keep shying away from the subject, which is really unusual for me (as anyone from back home would attest). And this group is of the opinion, almost unanimously, that they thought it was a great book but that it really didn't change their opinions on immigrant rights. So I just kept really quiet. Later I actually got to say something to Mrs. Nazario--she talked with us a little bit individually, and she signed my book (!). I told her that I was part of the political minority, and she was really kind about it. She didn't really get into it, but she told me that it happens everywhere (I'm not sure that that's really comforting, but I think she meant it to be). Later I read what she'd written in my book after we'd talked.

"To Kat: I hope that this gives you COURAGE."

What is it with me and fear this year???

I keep getting little random reminders everywhere. I don't know what to do with this.

I tried a different approach Wednesday. I walked into my Poli Sci class, and the girl sitting next to me asked what a public good was...she mentioned health care "if the new law gets passed", and instead of arguing at length I just said, "No, health care's not in that...they're looking for a public option, not for the British/Canadian universal health care system." Her response? "Oh, ok." We actually ended up talking politics for a little while, and even though she seemed to think Colbert was actually that crazy Republican, she didn't freak out at my opinions. I just tried not to use "you" and "I", and it worked all right, I think.

Test was in Poli Sci on Wednesday. I think I did well on it.

About sums up those days.

Thursday, I.E. today, was all right. I kind of like my partner for our open scenes. I don't know her really at all, but she seems nice.

Script Analysis was...entertaining, as is usual. That class cheers me up.

In fact, probably the highlight of my day was eating lunch with this guy from class. We've gone to the underground a couple of times now, and I like him! Friend, possibly? God to I need one.

My biggest problem this week has been feeling lonely and depressed. I don't make friends really easily--it took me getting to my senior year of high school before I had any number of friends to do stuff with, or before I was actually going to parties and things. Before then, I just kind of...skated by. Maybe that's why I love theatre so much; there's always something to do, and your cast kind of becomes your family.

That's not going to help anytime soon, though. Honestly, that's part of why I was so disappointed with what happened with my tech application--I don't have a way to make friends easily. I'm reduced to, like, actually trying.

Thus far, my efforts have been, well, pretty fruitless. There's people I like, for sure. I haven't really done anything outside of class or fish camp activities with anyone though. This week I've got a bit of an excuse-I have been studying all week.

I think my biggest problem is, well, I'm kind of a loser. Outcast. Weirdo. Call it what you will, there's times when I think Austin would have been a better place for me-don't yell, I said Austin, not t.u.! Two totally different things. Austin's a city on its own. There's nothing wrong with liking it.

And honestly, there ARE times when I wonder about it, this week especially. I really love A&M. I love the people here. But I always feel out of place. I'm a liberal (extremely liberal for Texas) hippie who likes punk, grunge, and classic rock. I don't drink, I don't party, I don't do drugs. My favorite movies include Edward Scissorhands, American Beauty, and Donnie Darko; Tim Burton is my filmmaker idol, and I don't freak out watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I sing show tunes in the hallways. Hell, I'm a theatre major! There's 70 out of nearly 50,000 students! And here I am at Texas A&M. Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking.

But honestly, even my theatre friends think I'm weird. And, honestly, I kind of like that. I like being different. I don't think I try to be--I learned my lesson with that one!--but I fully recognize and appreciate my own strangeness. I hate that I always feel out of place, though. So I've got a conundrum: ignore my own person and fit in, or just occasionally feel depressed at being so different.

I think we all know which one I pick. Still, it's hard sometimes.

It's really hard now because I miss my best friends so much. I love my friends. There's not a lot of them that I really consider to be an enduring, true friendship, but those that I do I would do anything for. I think there's less than 10 of these individuals. They come from all walks of life, and I love them dearly. And I miss them! Not a one is anywhere near here. It makes it hard. I talk to them on the phone, or on skype, or on IM, but it's just not the same as a solid human presence.

I need some friends here, ASAP. Sigh.

Not meaning there's not people I like and love here in college station. It's just...different. There's no one here I would go to with real problems. I think there's people who would be willing to listen if I did ask them too, don't get me wrong--it's just that I would feel weird about asking!

I'm thinking about getting involved in Aggie Democrats. I get frustrated with people from my own party sometimes--there's insanity on both sides--but I think I need to find some people that I have some easy and obvious connection to. Now that I'm starting to get used to college life, it might be a good thing for me. Next meeting's not until October though. Sigh. Gremlins...

Anyway. I definitely need some inspiration tonight. So here's my song for the week--hope you enjoy. It's a classic. :)

I'm going. Are you?

Watch.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Rally to Restore Sanity
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

I am seriously making plans to go to this. My dad's going to see if he can take off a few days so we can drive up.

Will I miss the Texas Tech/A&M game? Yes. Will I probably miss Halloween, which is my favorite holiday? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes, oh yes. Opportunity of a LIFETIME here.

I know I've said some things on here about my political viewpoint. Let's get something straight. I am liberal. Liberal, liberal, liberal. But I am TEXAS liberal, which makes me conservative in, say, New York or something. I don't think George Bush planned 9/11. I don't draw Hitler mustaches on pictures of Cheney. And no, I don't think my politics should be shoved down anyone's throat. I recognize that both sides have their crazies. And doggone it, I am TIRED of people shouting at me! From BOTH sides!

So, Jon Stewart? My hero. For this. I love him. Always. If there is any way I can go, I will.

Will you?

Carry On, Wave on Wave, I'm Out Tonight, man did I get Lucky over at Harry's!!! (Or, the past two nights)

Yeah, yeah, it's one song for both nights. It fits though, right? Love that musical. Forgetting for the moment that a long-standing dream is to play Mimi in my lifetime, I just love that freaking song!

Lordy, I'm tired. My feet hurt, I'm sweaty and exhausted, and my ears may never recover.

So, so worth it.

Let's start with yesterday morning. As I said, I woke up in a TERRIBLE mood. Angry, my head was hurting, I just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But, I played hooky on Wednesday, so that was definitely not an option. Thus, I dragged myself out of bed and went to class.

I'm really glad I did, too. My acting class is so incredibly FUN--I absolutely, absolutely love these people. The teacher's hilarious, the students are crazy--what more could a girl ask for? I love it. Love, love, love it. Cheered me up immensely, and by the time my second class started, I was in a much better mood.

My second class on Thursdays is Script Analysis. I love this class, too. We spent the entire class talking about A Midsummer Night's Dream (which happens to be my favorite Shakespeare comedy, other than the one I'm named after, mainly because of Puck. Puck is my hero. I want to marry a guy who reminds me of Puck. Maybe that's why I have the curly hair thing? The first performance of Midsummer I ever saw, the guy had curly hair. Hmm...all Freudian here, but now that I'm thinking about it...). Fantastic class. I always manage to miss actually working on this production, but I want to like you wouldn't believe. I actually would really love to make a TAMU version of it (film-wise). Anyone in on that, let me know.

Left Thursday with some peeps from class. We went to the Underground and got food. And here is where I know that theatre people are the same everywhere: we're standing in line in the Underground, discussing Glee. We go onto the careers of Lea Michelle (Rachel) and Jonathan Groff (Jesse St. James), which logically leads us to the subject of Spring Awakening (you non-Broadway loving folks, they were the original leads in that particular musical, and not only were the leads, they were INCREDIBLE). In fact, here's a taste: the original cast performing at the Tony's in 2007.



Yeah. Love it. Forever. On a side note, why, Jonathan? Why are you gay? You are so beautiful. And your voice is so, so beautiful. Sigh...hazard of loving Broadway stars, I suppose.

Anyway. The subject of Spring Awakening leads me to hum "Mama Who Bore Me", which causes this little group to burst into song. Glad to know theatre kids are the same, well, pretty much everywhere--even A&M.

Another amazing moment? Anyone who knows theatre kids know they throw random lines into conversation. Well, we read Angels in America in our acting class a few days ago, and one of the most RANDOM and HILARIOUS lines in the entire book is a line Harper says, that goes something like...

CAUTION: DO NOT READ IF UNDER THE AGE OF 17...OR 18...or whatever the hell the age is that I could get in trouble for. Is that right? right. Anywho. Line goes...

"I learned how to give a blow job on the radio...it was this old Jewish woman with a thick German accent."

Oh, Dr. Ruth. I love this play.

Point is, one of the people in my acting class says this randomly in conversation...and the people who aren't in there with us all go, "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"

I really want to walk around campus saying this now and see what reactions I get.

Then, yesterday, my mom came into town! I hadn't seen her for 2 weeks, so strange feeling. Especially because my mom and I are really close. It was great to see her--we went to Boston's (I actually got greens...desperately needed some minerals) and she took me shopping for several hours. I have a new pair of brown boots to match my black pirate ones, which is awesome. She also cleaned my half of the room while I was in the shower (!!!!!). I feel like such a loser saying it, but I wasn't exactly expecting that. I love my mom. She's so freaking wonderful.

She actually dropped me off for the last event of the day: dancing at Hurricane Harry's with the fish camp people. I was really nervous about this, won't lie. I took tap for about 3 years, but western dancing is beyond me. The awkward "I don't know what I'm doing" vibe didn't exactly go away, but it did fade some after a few rounds--second we got there one of the guys I'm friends with taught me how to two step. Props for that! Got me through the night. The country part actually ended up being fine; we all sort of went in rounds, and this one guy from our camp who I'd actually never met before--and who is a BEAST at Western dancing--took every one of the girls out to teach us a trick or two. I also danced a round to freaking PAT GREEN (not live, recorded version of Wave on Wave) with one of my friends who took pity on me wriggling with joy in my seat at a song I knew and loved being played and took me out to the dance floor. So, honestly, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Good boys. :)

Later, though, it got a bit testy--the country part wrapped up for a little while and all this electronica/dance/rap/hip hop stuff came on. You guys know how I feel about that. I mean, I skipped those dance parties--for the most part--for a REASON. So, for a long time I was sitting in a booth awkwardly by myself while others danced, sending out texts to various friends and family, fishing for conversations. It was a few minutes before a few of them bitch-slapped me enough to make me go out and dance. Sometimes I think I just need a push, and once I get it, I go and join the fun, because yes, I did end up having lots and lots and LOTS of fun. Dancing may be in my future after all!

That ended yesterday. Today? Today I was bored all day in class because I was so dead tired, one of the counselors kindly took me to pick up a laptop sleeve so my baby isn't hurt in the travel between classes (and spent the entire time singing little made up songs about the various ways he would like to hurt me, i.e., punching, dismemberment, beheading...should I be a little scared? Maybe? Possibly?), was bailed upon for the Pat Green concert and was going to make other plans, randomly posted on Facebook about it (I was considering going by myself), was rescued by fish camp people, went to said concert with said people, and had an amazing time.

Let's start off from when we walked into Harry's. Scene is, four girls walking into a bar. The place is pretty much empty right now, so we head over to play pool until it gets closer to concert time. We play a round. I fail my partner by shooting the 8 ball not into the designated pocket for the win, but somehow managing to propel it across the entire table to land in the opposite (lengthwise) side. (Sorry about that.) Two guys, one of whom is extremely, extremely attractive, ask us if we want to play a round opposite them. One of the girls I'm with says that I'm the best pool player of the group. (Can I hug you for that later? Totally unexpected.) So I'm one of those that ends up playing with these guys. We lose the round--a close match, and the good looking guy was crazy good at pool--trick shots and everything!--but enjoy it thoroughly, at least, I did. One more round: girl-guy teams, with the girls who didn't play before pairing up with the guys. They escorted us to the dance floor for the concert, and stood behind us for some time. To spare you any suspense, no numbers were exchanged, but I won't complain if I run into the good-looking one again. We talked some, and he seemed pretty likable. We laughed about frats, so that's a plus. I got the feeling he plays pool at Harry's a LOT, and I rediscovered how much I enjoy that game, so I'll be back around.

Concert started at 10:30. Sort of. They were running late. All right, though--PHENOMENAL show. Pat Green is so fantastic live, he just interacts with the audience and is so personal and charming...would it be creepy for me to call him adorable? Maybe it is, but ehhhh, who cares, it's only truth. He is adorable. Seeing him up so close was wonderful--last time I saw him in concert, it was at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, and we were a few hundred feet away. Here, we were what, less than ten feet from the stage? If I'd really wanted to I could have run up onto the stage. That was amazing. And he's sitting there, waving, locking eyes with people, and I'm waving like a maniac the entire time, fist-pumping, whatever I can do. Which reminds me...

Pat Green, I doubt you will ever see this, or, even if you should, you probably will not remember who I am, but I want to say on the off chance that you might that I was the crazy girl in the red bandanna and braids screaming, dancing, singing, jumping, waving my hands, pumping my fists, ummmm...anything else? Probably. Point being, I was acting like a maniac all night, and I think you might actually have seen me. Yeah. You make me like country music that's from the past 10 years. Only you. Not in a creepy way, I just would hate all country music if my family wasn't so insanely in love with your music.

So, yeah. I enjoyed myself.

Early on in the concert I caught a pick the guitarist threw. And later, after the show ended, I had marked where Pat Green himself had thrown some picks and they were not picked up...managed to grab two of them, gave one to my fish camp friend who stuck it out with me, and kept the other, of course. :) Souvenirs, baby! And I know exactly which was which.


Some great things about the concert itself. Starting from the beginning...he played a lot of really great songs. I.E., his biggest hits: Carry On, Songs About Texas, etc., but he also played some really just fun songs. He went on this whole rant about how his studio wouldn't release "Lucky" on the radio, which was great. Dirty old man, he made some lewd suggestions the entire night. He is also apparently performing with Kiss this week? He seemed a little...uh...nervous about that. Can't say I blame him, that's sure to be somewhat different than the group he's used to. Half the people around us were just chilling with their beers. I was one of very few who were supremely into it. Oh, and he got Iced. Actually, the entire band did. If you don't know what that is...



Stupid? Yes. Amazing? Also yes. I have the whole thing recorded on my phone. I need to figure out a way to get it onto the computer. But once I do...YOUTUBE!

He was really funny about us hissing, too. He'd mention Lubbock or Waco, and we'd all hiss, and he'd say, "CHILL...THIS AIN'T A FOOTBALL GAME!!!" He was so surprised, I don't know if he really knew what we were doing or why. It was entertaining though.

I was getting really worried by the time the concert ended...all this, and he doesn't play my favorite song? BUT HE DID. The VERY last song they played was, of course, WAVE ON WAVE...screamed my freaking head off. And at the very end of the song he put up his guitar, and did the rounds...in other words....I FREAKING SHOOK HANDS WITH PAT GREEN!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Fangirl scream that goes on for hours* I got so dazed, I actually had to remind myself to let go. I just happened to be one of the people whose hand he grabbed. He was really nice, though, he didn't pull away or anything, just waited until I let go, although he kind of gave me a confused look. I think it took me a minute to process that he was actually shaking hands with me. Eeeek. I screamed like a little girl after. Taylor Laughtner? Pssssh. And Justin Bieber can go, I don't know, go through puberty or something.

So. Anything else? I do not think so....Oh, man, such a great night.

I better sleep now, though...game tomorrow, lots of studying to do, and oh my lord I still can barely hear.

Night, all. This is Kat, sending her love.

Quick Post (to be expanded upon later)

Last night? Amazing.

Yesterday started off with me in a bad mood, quickly remedied by the amazingness of my theatre classes, as well as lunch with people from my theatre classes. Went home, worked on my shiz for class. Cap of the night: fish camp dance party. At Harry's, which is a country and western bar. Learned (sort of) to two step. Had a great time.

Just goes to show: stepping out of your comfort zone isn't always a bad thing.

Tonight? I think it will also be amazing. Heading to Harry's again with some awesome fish camp people to go and see PAT GREEN live in concert.

Note: I usually detest modern country music. I make an exception to this with Pat Green. I love him. Period. So I'm pumped. Last time I went to a concert was actually when he performed at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo a year and a half ago. Excited? Yes, ma'am.

I'm actually meeting the group in about 20 minutes. So, I'm making this short and sweet.

Point is, you know that magic attitude adjustment thing I've been trying? i.e., music? Seems to be working nicely.

And, you know, dancing like a maniac in a crowd of people isn't so bad, either.

Signing off, this is Kat...chipper and ready for things to come.

Nobody said it would be this hard. (i.e., Rotten Day (No, it didn't get better.))

So, with all the pain of this morning, I took a mental health day and skipped my first two classes. Went back to my dorm and slept for several hours, trying to catch up on the sleep I lost last night. At about 3:45 I woke up and ran to my last class, the only one I think I really need to be in class for all the time. Literally as I walk into the building I get a text from my friend in that class, asking if I'm coming today. Lightened my mood considerably to know someone was looking for me. This guy was easily the bright spot in my day today. He's awfully funny, and it's just fun to be around him. I came out of class feeling a lot better, hopeful for the rest of the day to go better than the morning had.

Thanks for playing games with me, gremlins. It's nice to know that you can disappear for a while and make me hopeful about the rest of the day, only to come back and wreak havoc on my life.

I come back to my dorm, walk upstairs, drop my stuff off, fix myself food...and the freaking fire alarm starts ringing. And, DAMN, is that thing LOUD! My head started pounding, my roommate woke up...it's a fire drill. F.M.L. So I pull on my shoes again, and my roommate and I head downstairs. Because the drill lasts so long, we decide to go to the Underground, where I burn my mouth on crazy hot soup.

So we come back to the dorm. I mess around for a little while, check out my schedule for next week and for tomorrow. I have 3 tests next week, by the way. Then, I check my email. Two depressing emails. One is from a lady at Levitt pavilion. I had emailed Levitt a few days ago because the cast of Tightrope had informed me that they wanted to keep going, so I was going to try and find a place for us to do that. This letter says that they can't help us, but they'd love to know what ends up happening. Thanks. She does, at least, give me some other places to look at. She's nice enough, it's just frustrating, especially on a day like today.

Second email is from the tech professor. She's attached a copy of the application, and if I send it to her by 5, she will accept it. It's 9 o'clock at night. She sent it at noon. If I hadn't gone to sleep, I would have easily, easily gotten it in.

I am so disappointed right now. I didn't apply for a FLO, dropped the improv troupe idea, refrained from even looking at a ton of the clubs around...because I was hoping I would be involved in the fall production, and I wanted to put it above anything else. Now, the only I can be involved will probably be to go see it.

Do little gremlins follow me around, arranging it so that I have no luck? Do I have a poltergeist or something? Or do I just naturally have no luck? I swear, with me, nothing ever ends up the way I want it to. I just hope, in this case, that it still ends up well, or I have no idea why I even bother.

Ugh. Can you tell I'm a little disheartened?

I was so excited. After all the worry about the theatre department, it was turning out to be great. I wanted so much to be a part of it. It's so...I don't know. Frustrating. Upsetting. I try so hard to get things right, to be positive, to look at what's good...days like today, it just feels pointless.

i.e., The Scientist. Nobody said it was easy, but nobody said it would be this hard.

Let's go for defiance today. It's been a rotten day. I'm not going to argue that. But I am NOT going to let it ruin my week.

I have a sports pass. I am going to the volleyball game tomorrow, the fish camp dance meeting tomorrow night, Midnight Yell Friday night, and the game Saturday. And if I end up going by myself, well, who gives a shit. I'll still have fun, right?

Right.

Signing off, this is Kat...and if I'm going down, I'm going down swinging.

Rotten Morning (Apologies)

That about sums up this morning. It has been a rotten, rotten morning.

So you know how last night I was so excited because the prof had written back, making me feel all hopeful after I'd felt so sick over it? Yeah. Well, my application didn't get in.

Here's the story:

I don't have a printer, and so last night when I wrote my first email I was in the SCC printing off an application. After, I walked to Rattlers and picked up a few groceries, and, thinking wrongly that the plastic bag they were wrapped in would keep any condensation from my papers, I put it in my backpack to carry home. When I back to my dorm, I realized that somehow I had forgotten to print a resume. I decided that rather than walking back to the SCC (since I live on Northside, that's a 20 minute walk!) I would get up early the next morning and go take care of that part of the application. So I did just that. I got up early this morning, though apparently not early enough. The SCC was PACKED. So, after waiting half an hour, a computer finally came open. I pulled out my application, only to find that the paper was damp, the ink had run, and the entire thing was barely legible. In worse shape, however, was the only written copy I had of the tech application website. I could not read it. At all.

After trying vainly for several minutes to find the page off of memory, I decided to walk to Blocker and see if I could find the web page on any of the flyers posted, since it was past 10 already and I didn't want to not send in an application at all. When I got to Blocker, though, I realized that while the flyers had emails or professors to contact, the actual web page was not listed anywhere. I gave up looking when the clock hit 11. Why? Because that was the due time, my friend. The applications were due at 11. Despite my best efforts, I was screwed.

Sometimes it just feels like the world's against you.

I'm trying really hard to be ok with this. I felt this way when I realized that, despite my best efforts, I was headed to A&M in the fall--and yet this has turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to me. I'm trying to hope that something good will come out of this incredible disappointment, that maybe I'll be happy, in the end, that things worked out the way they did.

Guess it's time to test my theory.



Signing off (for now), this is Kat...moving right along.

Inspired

Ok, so you know how I said I was done for the night? I may have lied a little bit.

Why? Because this song came on. And as so often happens with me, the music got me thinking.

First of all, listen to the song.



I love this song for several reasons.

#1, I love this band. My Chemical Romance. MCR. MyChem. Love 'em. Have for years.
#2, I love this album. Welcome To The Black Parade. This is the album--this is the song--that got me through the worst time in my life to date. Think about the lyrics. The chorus is, "I am not afraid to keep on living." Not that the singer is not afraid to die--sometimes, that's the easy thing, that's the simplest solution. Sometimes its a lot harder to live than it is to die. Then it goes on: "I am not afraid to walk this world alone." How, I wonder? It's terrifying to be alone. Not to feel alone or lonely sometimes, but to be absolutely, completely alone. I'm thinking about Friday, how alone I felt, with everyone else there in groups or pairs; just that was depressing. If you're completely, completely alone, there is so little joy in the world. Don't worry, this isn't a depressed, my life sucks post--I just heard the song, and started thinking about the meaning behind it. Speaking about the band itself? I know a huge group of people who loathe MCR, absolutely and completely--call it an emo band, rip-offs, whatever they like. I don't get it, personally. Their songs are about hope, about going on through everything, about making it through hardships and coming out, maybe a little worse for wear, year, but that's normal, that's ok. Point is, you made it out. Life sucks sometimes. Their music is so much about overcoming the bad stuff that happens to everyone.
#3. This is an inspirational song. I covered that. But it's not a predictable, lame, insert-key-change-here kind of song. You don't hear the lyrics, it's a punk/pop/just plain weird song that maybe you like, maybe you don't. The song sounds almost angry. It's defiant. It's a giant "FU" to whoever is putting the singer down, be it a family member, a friend, a boss--whatever. It's like an animal cornered in a cage, snapping at its tormentor, trying to get out.

This all got me thinking. I already said tonight what an effect music can have on your psyche; I titled my last post "Don't Stop Believin'", for God's sake!! It's really astounding to me the way that works. It doesn't matter how bad I'm feeling, if the right song comes on the radio, there is an immediate attitude shift. Thus, I have a new goal for the days.

I'm already talking every post about my day, my trials and tribulations, blah blah blah. Not that it's not interesting (I really hope it IS interesting!) but it's just something that seems a little...less than it could be. So I think I'll add something. Every day before I go to bed I will blog, partly so I stay updated, and partly because it's a nice way to relax before beddy-by. (Yes, I just said that.) On that blog, I will start with a song that describes about how that day went. I will end with a song that inspires me and, hopefully, either keeps the mood going if its good, or sends me to bed feeling better. Cheesy, perhaps? Decidedly so. I don't honestly care. If you think it's stupid, skip it, or consider it a way to find new music. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I'll start this off with two back to back videos.

#1: For the day.


#2: For the inspiration: what else?



Peace! :)

Don't Stop Believin' (Or, updates from the week and musings on the roller coaster that is my life)

Good lord, it has been nearly a week since I last wrote. I feel so under-accomplished. Ah, well, such is life.

Let's catch up. I left off on Wednesday, which was basically a chill day. I did realize a few moments ago that I didn't ever mention auditions, for either the show or for the improv troupe. First, the show: no, I did not make callbacks. That's all right, I was not upset at all, it was a very small and select group who did. I was happy with my audition, considering my current skills, so it wasn't a big deal. As for the improv troupe, no, I did not go back and audition. I was dead tired Wednesday, and honestly, although I did get over the fear I had on Monday night, I realized the time commitment I would have to make, and thought it was probably a bad idea to get so heavily involved before I had gotten used to the college schedule. C'est tout, je promets.

It's been a week of ups and downs. All week, I've been having emotional highs and lows, thanks to random events...let's start from the beginning, I guess.

Thursday. What happened Thursday? Can I even remember? Class, I know that one. Start there. Start off in my Acting class with an interesting discussion of Stanislavski. I think. Maybe. Then onto acting games (oh, how I love theatre classes). Script Analysis? Good class! Action analysis of Oedipus. Irony. I read Oedipus last in January for UIL Tech theatre preparations, since the play picked for the contest was Antigone. Had lunch with a guy from my classes who seems pretty cool. Think, think, Thursday, I could never get the hang of Thursdays, or remember them.

Oh wait. Duh. We had our Shehane reunion on Thursday!

It was great to see everybody. Jeebus, fish camp feels like it was ages ago. It's amazing how differently time passes when you're busy. One of the counselors picked me, which I was grateful for. I was glad to catch up with everyone, I was amazed by how much I'd missed some of them in such a short amount of time! Took a TON of pictures. Speaking of, I started (on Wednesday, I suppose, something else I forgot about) my own Project 365--take a picture a day for a full year. I need to upload the ones from the past couple of days to facebook. I think I'll make an album on photobucket or something and provide a link here, too. Why not, right?

Anyway, point being, the reunion was a blast. Plus, the party didn't stop once I got home--stayed up talking music and other biznatch with a member of Camp Shehane 2010 for half the night. Then, called my mom on Skype (dude, my mom's AWESOME) and we talked for an awfully long time. It was good to catch up.

Friday. Oh, good lord, so forgetful...psych class. There's two girls from fish camp in my Psych class, people I like quite a bit. They had an empty seat next to them Thursday, and since I came in pretty late, that worked out all right. (Not late to class, just late considering.) We had a short quiz (which I got 100% on, by the way. For the win!) and we went over the science of the brain. I found myself thanking IB all over again; my senior year in bio we spent so much time over the brain I wanted to scream. Want to know what Nodes of Ranvier are? I can tell you. Want to know how signals pass between neurons? I can tell you that. How about the different parts of the brain? The types of receptors humans have? Where the largest clusters of touch-sensitive neurons are located? Yeah, I remember most of that. I will probably never need to use any of it again, but hey! I thought I'd never need it again, and here I am using it my second week on campus. Thank you, Ms. Katavic, for beating it into my skull. Or not. I'm not sure yet.

There we go, I'm through Psych. After is Shakespeare. Finished up Macbeth, reading-wise. Again...is it good, or bad that I've read that play so many times I'm starting to get annoyed by the name? My Shakespeare buddy wasn't there, unfortunately, but it was all right anyway. I was bored through class. Only so many times the question of Lady Macbeth's evil nature can be discussed before it starts getting redundant.

What else happened Friday? I didn't have Poli Sci, that's only Mon-Wed. Oh! Oh. Ohhhh. Catastrophe. My life. Almost blocked this memory out. Yuck.

Get to the point, all right, all right. So, Friday morning I saw a flyer for an MSC Cinema showing of The Host. I'd heard it was a good movie, it's on my netflix queue, so I figured I would head over and check it out. So I get to Rudder and I realize that while I know it's in Rudder, I have no idea WHERE in Rudder. I'm early though, so no biggie. I send a text to one of the counselors that's in the cinema group, ask him if he knows anything. He doesn't respond. Meanwhile, I am assaulted by "The Revolution", some Christian anti-sex group. All right, all right, I try not to get too political on here; after all, I am a minority in this school, being extremely liberal, socially and economically (if mostly socially). I am pretty open about my problems with religion, though. I have had some really bad experiences at churches, and I sanely admit that it's colored my feelings about the whole institution of faith. So, do I mind it if someone is very religious? Not at all. But if I repeatedly tell someone I'm not interested, and they persist in telling me to "join the revolution" (because abstinence is so very revolutionary, don't you agree?) and refuse to leave me alone, I feel the temptation to start acting a little more antagonistic about it. There's nothing more irritating to me than someone pushing religion on me. Especially because usually calm argument gets me flat out statements of "you're going to hell". Lordy, I could go on and on...

I'll stop the religion rant. I have no problem if someone is religious, as I said, and I think some religions (i.e. NOT Westboro Baptist) are good institutions that really believe in what they preach as well as practice it. However, that acceptance and even approval does not continue if someone is shoving flyers in my face.

Still, minority and all. I bite my tongue, to keep from asking if this is a part of the Junior Anti-Sex League, and if we'll all get some crimson sashes to wear if we join, and decide, screw it, I'm leaving. So I do. In a very irate mood.

I walk across the street to Potato Shack, forgetting this is Friday night. There's a special on Friday nights. This is a college town. This place is packed. I am literally the only person in this room that is there by themselves. So what do I do? Do I walk out the door, like a sane person would, and forget the madness? Do I find someplace else to eat? No, I do not! I order, stubbornly insisting on my oversized potato with a disgusting yet oddly satisfying array of toppings, and seating myself at the highly visible bar, defiantly pull out my iPod and wait for my meal. Wait. For thirty minutes. All alone in a crowded room. God, it makes me depressed thinking about it. Ups and downs, ups and downs, no worries, it'll get better. Although, I do wait 30 minutes for my food. And about 10 minutes into eating I get a text-- my counselor replying, telling me the room number. A little late now, I think.

Ahh, well. Considering how the night is going I don't risk going to Midnight Yell; it just seems like a bad plan. I do have tickets for the game the next day--I am going with my roommate and some of her friends, so I head to bed and just wait for the next day.

Saturday! Good day, that was. Woke up awfully late, cleaned some. Actually spent a lot of time on the internet, is that bad? Enjoyed myself though. I feel like a total dork, I found out there's a Pirates of the Caribbean Online Game. Life's goal, completed. Yes, I now have a pirate character on an RPG game. Her name is Catherine Wavefellow, and she is bad ass.

Oh wow, that sounds bad even to me. Ah, well, at least it's not WOW...yet...

Anyway. After I had all my stuff done on Saturday that I needed to do (i.e., catch up on my class reading and cleaning) I played on the game for a little while. And then, went to the game. As for the game itself. First deck seats! How on earth did THAT happen? It was amazing! Great view of the game, and some random junior gave us JPs. Really fun game, on that account. My roommate hadn't been to a game yet, so that was fun, because she was overwhelmed by the noise and insanity of it. Still, though, there was one pretty obvious downer, if you saw the game. I.E...What is with our Ags????? Horrible first half, again, and then we came back and b.t.h.o.LA TECH. So, what's the deal? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we won. The disconnect seems awfully strange, though. We did suffer from a few really bad calls (first yell leader sponsored horse laughs!), but it still seems strange. Good game, though, and it was definitely fun. AND I got some great pictures.

After the game, I went to a party, and and and...just kidding. I was boring after the game. I went back and read Shakespeare, talked to my parents and bestie back home, and...played an RPG at 2 in the morning. Lame. Yeah, I know.

Sunday was, again, a good day. My dad came in! And he had all kinds of gluten free goodies--brownies and granola bars and yummy soups and things. We spent a good ol' time driving around college station, pointing out the locations of his various misdeeds and shenanigans back in the day. Like the taco bell that he never went in sober. Ever. Ever, ever. To this day. I love my dad. Granted, the drinking age was 19, but still. He also showed me...drumroll....A&M'S very own nuclear power plant. No, I'm not kidding. Check it out:

http://nuclear.tamu.edu/facilities/main/

Ok, so it's a REACTOR, not a plant, but still. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think that's awesome on so many levels.

Random, but I love my parents. My mom baked cinnamon rolls and biscuits and sent them down to me (carb overload, anyone?) and my parents went to build-a-bear sometime this week and made me an A&M bear, complete with A&M tshirt, scarf, and hat. My parents also recorded their voices to put into it, so if you squeeze its paw, it says...

"I love you Katty! Gig'em Ags!"--My mom
and
"Miss you boo boo!"--My dad's contribution.

Silly thing, but it almost made me cry. I got a little choked up when he pulled it out, it was just so sweet. I don't think I've even had a stuffed animal in my room for 4, 5 years now, but this thing is going to have a place of honor.

It also happens to be really squishy. Apparently my parents had a debate, because there were two they were going to choose from: one with "curly" fur, and one with normal. My mom voted the curly one, because I have, like, a curly hair fetish or something (I don't know, I just have a thing for guys with curly hair), and my dad voted for the normal one, for the same reason. He said he didn't want to encourage it. Lol, Dad. My mom won, though. It's adorable. I'll post a video or something sometime this week.

Rest of the day was spent watching different adaptations of Macbeth. Throne of Blood, I finished. Polanski's Macbeth, almost got done. Scotland, PA, unfortunately, I was too tired to finish. I think I can officially say for the first time in my life that I am Macbeth'd out.

Thus was Sunday. Yesterday? Let's see. Psych. More neurons. Slept through my alarm for class, though, literally ran the entire way to get there on time. That's really all. Then Shakespeare...watched clips of those three movies. Good class. Then, Poli Sci.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but one of my fish camp people is in my Poli Sci class. Honestly, this was the bright spot in my day. The guy's hilarious. He'll probably read this later (apparently he reads my blog? How many people do? Dude, tell me if you do, that's awesome! I have no idea who's actually looking at this thing. I'm writing it more for myself, at this point, knowing other people have read it is a weird and amazing feeling!), but I don't really care, because it's nothing I wouldn't say to his face. Know that now, sirrah, if you are reading.

Point being, I apparently can't make a sad puppy face. Why, you ask, did this come up? Because the guy is hilarious, but also rather an ass. A funny ass, but an ass. So he says something mean, I try and act wounded, I start laughing, and the effect is lost. Supposedly I look either like I'm going to throw up or like I am constipated. Note to self: DO NOT TRY AND MAKE A SAD PUPPY FACE.

That was pretty much the high point. Came home and cleaned and put stuff away from the morning rush. Read for class today. Went to bed early. My roomie and I had a long and fun talk. That's about it.

Today? Started off all right. Slept through my alarm again, but woke up still with plenty of time. Good day discussing Angels in America in class. I feel really strongly about this play--it's genius, and it has so many political statements, so it was nice to discuss some issues with a group that, while not exactly liberal on the whole (it is still A&M), has a viewpoint closer to mine on some big issues--homosexuality, etc. As I said earlier, social issues are a bigger deal to me than economics, and that's always...interesting, in this environment.

Another good day in my Script Analysis class. No huge revelations, but we got through the analysis, and we did pretty well, I thought. Points from class today:

"I wanna see a Disney Oedipus."
"Oedipus is a stupid king. Stupid king, stupid king."
"INTERNATIONAL SIGN OF DISTRESS."

I love this group of people, seriously.

Seminar over Enrique's Journey. THAT was interesting. Definitely the only liberal among THAT group, which was FUN because we started discussing immigrants' rights. Oh, goodie. My favorite topic.

Sarcasm, if you haven't figured out. The last time I opened my mouth in an immigration debate my best friend and I ended up in a screaming match that lasted for the entire class period, with our teacher trying (and failing) to restore order. Yeah, it's always a good idea to involve me in a political debate.

It ended up ok, though. I think most of the group was clearing a wide path around me (maybe I'll infect them with my hippie ideas?) but one guy was sane enough to friend me on facebook, so I don't feel too anxious about next week. 1 out of 8 isn't too bad, right?

I went to the SCC after class to look up tech applications. A bit of a roller coaster here, too--I check the application, see that it wants applicants for particular positions, and go OH SHIZ. Because these are Stage Manager, Master Electrician, Props Master/Mistress--all head positions. So I'm freaking out, because what happened to the normal, I-am-a-freshman-let-me-work-please positions? I sent the tech prof an email, sick to me stomach, thinking, Oh good lord, WHAT am I going to do.

Now, if you don't know me very well, I have this lovely tendency to overthink, overevaluate, freak out, have nervous breakdowns...you get the gist of it. As you might imagine, this news does not seems to bode well for my hopes and plans this semester, and I am sent straight into panic mode. So, what do I do? Stew the whole way home, throw myself on the bed, sit down on the bed, and turn on the TV.

To Glee.

I swear, I may have problems with religion, but I have no issues believing in a higher power. I turn on Glee about 10 seconds before the Journey medley (season finale, if you don't watch the show) starts playing. Don't Stop Believin'.

Ahhh, well. When you put it that way.

Oddly enough, it reminded me of something I'd almost forgotten. You know my emotional breakdown day 3 of fish camp, the what-am-I-doing-what-was-I-thinking-oh-God-oh-God nutcase breakdown? Yeah. That one. I almost forgot. When I was being all emo and reclusive, I turned on my phone's music player and listened to it. This was just after I'd gotten that troublesomely helpful counselor to go away. I turn on the phone, hit random, and the very first thing that starts playing is "Taking Chances". The Glee version. And then, a few days ago, that night I was feeling down? Put on my phone. "Keep Holding On." What is this, some metaphysical conspiracy to send me life advice, using a musical tv show soundtrack as the message medium? Wouldn't a Facebook wall post be easier?

Obviously, you can't ignore something like that. So, I flip on my computer and pull up my email. Barely an hour later, there's a reply. The prof lets me know that I should still apply, and they'll see where they can put me, knowing that even though I may not be as experienced in certain things, I am definitely willing to learn and want to be involved. She signs off with, "Can't wait to work with you in the future."

Cosmic forces, working through Glee. All right, I hear you. Take some chances, keep holding on, and don't stop believin'. Sage advice. I'll try and remember it, the next time life takes a dip.

So, leaving off with my Gleek revelation? That's really the last thing that happened today. As for the rest of the time spent today? Well, you've been reading it. I have been writing this ridiculously long post. Remind me not to do this again.

It was a good day, though.

And the week, well, that balanced itself it.

If I remember anything else, I'll post it in later blogs. NOT tonight though.

Signing off, this is Kat...still believing. Don't ever stop.

Wednesday: Chill day.

So, what do I say. Woke up this morning and caught up on some of my reading. Realized at 12:30 that my first class did NOT start at 12:50 as I kept thinking, but at 12:40, and ran the whole way to psych. Very entertaining class. Best quote of the day:

"Say your grades go down your first semester at A&M. What might be one of the factors influencing this?"
"Northgate!"

Oh, wow. I love this school.

So then, Shakespeare...still going over Macbeth. I'm going to be so sad when I actually have to sit down and read for this class, right now I just skim and I remember every frigging line. I have read this play way too many times now.

Finally, Poli Sci...entertaining, to say the least. I love this prof. He reminds me a lot of my high school history teacher, which is amazing, because that teacher was so very amazing. He opens every class with a random movie clip, today it was a piece from "Pineapple Express". Its just...funny.

Oh, and by the way...

"What do you think: we still do not have direct election of our executive office."
"Not a rumor..."

Ahhh, happy days.

I was going to go at 8 to what I thought was a camping group. I actually read the flier before I left, though, thank goodness. It was a "students serving scouting" flier. As in, boy scouts/girl scouts. Now, don't get me wrong, I support the Girl Scouts pretty strongly. I was a Girl Scout as a kid, and I loved it. And, to some degree, I think Boy Scouts is a good thing (i.e., if they got rid of the anti-gay/anti-atheism stance, I would be fine with it--it's one thing to publicly disagree, but its another to kick members out of your organization if they are gay or atheist). Still, devoting a college organization to helping out with it? In a low-income area, maybe, but not in College Station. That doesn't make sense to me. If I'm going to spend time with kids, it's going to be with at-risk kids who really need help. Big Brothers/Big Sisters, maybe.

So, I ended up just walking to the Underground with my roommate. I found out earlier today that they have gluten free soup there every day! I was so freaking happy. Real food!

And now I'm back in my dorm...about to clean. That's it, for today. Thanks, all.

Tuesday: Class, Auditions, and Silver Taps

We'll start with waking up today. My roommate gets up at 5:45 every morning. I don't know exactly how she does this, but she does. Every morning she wakes me up, and every morning I clamp a pillow over my head, roll over, and go back to sleep. Last night, however, I asked her to turn the lights on and make me get up, since I need to catch up on my reading. She, being the wonderful roommate she is, complied. Except, having had the emotional B.S. occur last night the way it did, I was dead tired. So what did I do: roll over and go back to sleep, or get up like a responsible person?

You guessed it. I went back to sleep. And was woken up four hours later by my alarm for class.

One hour to read for two classes. Thank God for speed reading, that's all I can say. I managed to get through pretty much everything in time for classes. Basically rolled out of bed and got dressed, though, I love scarfs so much for this reason. Keeps the crazy bedhead in check.

I had a really, really good day. Walked to class in some slight rain, which sounds nutty, but I LOVE the rain when its like it was today. It's sporadic enough that I don't need to worry about messing up my books (my backpack is pretty waterproof) but wet enough that I get to enjoy it. Is it weird that I like getting wet? Probably. I could seriously live in the water, though. For years I would spend every possible movement at the pool or at the ocean, when we went to the coast. You know how other little kids want to be superheros or princesses? I wanted to be a mermaid. I actually thought for a while about going into marine biology because of that, except that I then realized how many dissections and such I would have to do (I am incredibly squeamish).

ANYWAY, everyone around me was complaining about the rain, and I just thought, well, I'm dressed all right for it...usually that's my biggest concern. It was funny, though...we're not into our acting class ten minutes when Code Maroon sends out a message: tornado warning, take shelter immediately! So our class obediently troops into the costume shop for the majority of class. Oh, weather warnings, you are so amusing. Rain hit pretty fierce around then, though.

Then, script analysis. Really interesting class today. I write, if you couldn't guess already; I've actually already written several plays and screenplays, and I write songs, poetry, and short stories on a regular basis. Class today was about breaking down plays into their most basic parts, on a scene by scene basis; our prof called it "action analysis". Maybe this is conceited--I hope not, it's just a memory tool--but whenever I'm in a class talking about analyzing, I think about my own work as an example, just in my head obviously. Example: we're talking about how plays have 3 climaxes, near the beginning, the middle, and the end. I wrote a play last year called Tightrope; some of you know the storyline, but for those that don't, I'll fill you in. At its most basic level, it's about strength, and its different forms. The idea is that schizophrenia as a disease is caused by real, unseen forces, who choose those who suffer from it as their victims, and basically play mind games with them. These forces take the shape of a circus, one side good, one side evil, and with the victim walking a tightrope between them. It's something I'm pretty proud of, and I still hope to direct it (I was supposed to do this for my senior project, but some unforeseen circumstances caused us to cancel literally the DAY OF our first rehearsal), especially since I put a lot of work into creative pre-show work.

Point being, I was thinking about what these climaxes might be for my own work. Thinking about it, I realized it really was true, even when unintentional: climax number one is the choosing of the main character as the victim, number two is when he is presented with his choice, and number three when he makes his choice. I didn't even plan it that way; it just turned out that way. That was really interesting to me, as a writer.

So, after class I headed to the Underground to get a bite. I was happy to actually be able to eat something today, even if it was just a bag of chips. One of the guys from my acting/script classes was there; we had a nice talk, and he introduced me to someone else in the theatre department that he's friends with. Finished eating and went back to my dorm, showered, changed into my audition clothes, and headed to my seminar. I like this class. I'm probably the most liberal in that room (what's new, this IS A&M) but it's still really a good group for discussions and such.

Left the seminar at 4:50, went to the SCC to type up a fresh resume, and then headed back to the dorm to finish getting ready, i.e., do my hair, put on makeup, that kind of thing. Appearances DO make a difference in this field. Went to a dorm floor meeting at 7. Our floor actually seems kind of cool, and our RA seems really nice. If you've watched Dorm Life, it's like that...without the bad RA. Headed to my audition by 7:45.

Got there early, and was told we were running ahead of schedule, could I go ahead and go in? Oh, I love college already. Monologue auditions (haven't done those in a while!) AND we're moving on in good time? Heaven. So I go ahead and go in, do my monologue. I ended up doing the Kindergarten one; I know it really well, and I altered it some so it would be more concise. I felt pretty good about it, considering it's been almost a full year since I performed last. I'm fairly well pleased, regardless of the reaction it gets, so I'm taken aback when the director hands me a script, tells me to go out in the hall and read this particular monologue a few times, and then come back in when I'm ready and perform it for them (script in hand, of course). Now, I'm game for pretty much anything in an audition, but this I definitely have never done before. Read something I haven't ever even looked at? All right, let's try it. So I go outside, a little giddy: is this a good sign? The girl working backstage--the assistant stage manager, actually--tells me she thinks so. So I take a few minutes; I read it silently, first, then aloud a few times. Oh, and btw: this is the lead girl's monologue. That doesn't mean they're considering me for her--it's the largest monologue I noted when I read the play--but it makes me a little giddy, for obvious reasons. After a few minutes I go back in, I read, fairly well considering, I get a thank you, and I head out.

Weird audition, but I'm thinking it went pretty well. Even if I don't make callbacks, I feel happy that something different happened. One of my counselors I saw tonight was insistent that I made it, he kept saying that if I thought positively, it would make a world of difference. I feel, at least, that there's a distinct possibility of it, won't lie, although I think it would be arrogant to suggest certainty. I'll find out tomorrow, one way or another.

So, I walk over to Freebird's and grab dinner (I apparently can eat most Freebird's food, which is incredibly exciting), and then head back to Rudder to meet for Silver Taps. We meet on the steps of Rudder; a surprisingly small group, although maybe not, because it's been raining off and on all day. It's clear at the moment, though, and it's good to see those who are there. We head over around 10 and find a place to stand under a large tree, right at the corner of the Academic Plaza. And there, we begin our Silver Taps experience.

It's impossible to adequately explain Silver Taps. It's something you'd have to see, first-hand, to understand or even just to believe. Honestly, the best analogy I can come up with is that it's like trying to describe an exquisitely beautiful sunrise; you know what made it so beautiful, so moving, but even the most eloquent description falls short. No matter how much you describe colors and patterns, the person trying to understand can only try and picture what you're saying. However, because that is the point of this blog, I'm going to do my best.

Probably the best way to do this is just to provide a play-by-play account of the night. Let's begin.

We get to the plaza, like I said, at around 10 o'clock. The plaza is already beginning to fill up, lining the square. It's mostly silent, except for an occasional cough and the shifting of feet. It's clear, at the moment, although there are clouds in the sky. The oppressive heat of the past few days has been banished by the rain; it's not cold out, no, but it's pleasantly cool. Touching my own arm, it feels chilled. Somehow it's incredibly bright out; the whole sky has a ruddy tinge to it, swirled with darker colors that show through to the night sky. There's sort of glow over the whole scene that doesn't come from streetlights, since all of these have been turned off. We stand in place, just waiting in silence. I'm not sure when the bells began to play; it could have been 10 minutes, it could have been 5, it could have been 20. I know that I gradually notice them, a background music; sweet, haunting, playing a melody I don't know. At some point, the Corps members begin to arrive, marching in, spurs jangling, measured steps thumping. A few minutes after the last group comes in, the plaza almost full, the song from the belltower changes. A few notes sound, and I start to smile. Amazing Grace. I close my eyes for a moment, just breathing in the sweet summer air and listening to the tune, thinking the words. This plays for a few minutes, and during that time, the families of the fallen are escorted in. Everyone around me shifts in anticipation. It begins opposite of me; I see people slouching stand up straighter, glance behind them. Then, I hear it.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Slow, measured, deliberate. I hear the firing squad's boots on the pavement, altogether, precise and loud in the silence. Slow, at first; then I see the first of the members, and it slows even more. Almost painfully slowly, they take their first steps into the plaza.

Then, almost in tribute, it seems, the skies open, and a soft rain begins to fall.

There's a sudden flurry as watchers pull out umbrellas or seek shelter under the trees, but the corps members seem unimpressed, and the rhythm of the marchers does not falter a bit. They slow down even more, taking unimaginably long moments to pause between steps. That may sound maddening, but it's more beautiful then anything else. After several minutes of this, they reach the center of the plaza. They stop. In one motion, it seems, they lower their rifles to the ground, and a loud clunk crashes out. They turn, they repeat the motion. They lift the guns in what looks like a complicated maneuver, and raise the guns to fire.

The first volley is louder than I could possibly imagine. It sounds like cannon fire, or a thunderclap, and I jump, surprised. I close my eyes for the next two volleys, clenching my fists involuntarily as the sound hits my eardrums. Then, silence. The squad turns to face the Academic building, lowers their guns. "Taps" begins to play, the music drifting from somewhere I cannot see. To try seems a waste of time, so packed is the plaza; so I close my eyes and listen to the music.

It seems like it goes on forever. Not in a bad way, don't get me wrong; the moment just stretches for eternity, bigger than any single person in that crowd. The music plays; once to the north, once to the south, once to the west. They told us at fish camp that they do not play to the east because it is said that the sun will never rise on that Aggie again. It feels heavy, so incredibly solemn and moving. Strangely, for me, I don't want to cry. I just feel an incredible sadness, and a feeling of gratefulness for the life I have.

The last playing ends. We filter out, slowly, heading to our separate homes. The rain ends, again, like it's a sign, some kind of message. It's fitting, in its way. It's like the very sky over college station is crying. I walk slowly, trying to comprehend what has just happened. All I can think, over and over again, is "God, please, don't let me ever have to go to this for me or for someone I have known. It's so beautiful, so moving, but please, please, please, don't let it be me. Don't let them play it for me." Maybe that's selfish, but all I can think is how lucky I am to have the life I do. I keep thinking about how these were kids not much older than me, and to some degree, all with stories similar to mine. I don't even know them, don't even know who they are, or anything at all about them, and yet I know there are common threads woven among us all in this tapestry that is Aggieland. We are all Aggies. No matter what other differences we may share, we have that in common.

It's a beautiful ceremony. It's powerful, incredible. I hope to God, with all my heart and soul, that it is never held for anyone I know. And, if I'm honest, I hope it is never held for me. Although, would the worst happen--and those would be the worst--I can't think of a better honor.

Maybe that's why I didn't go straight to my dorm after the ceremony; instead, I went to Bernie's. Got a cup of coffee. Read the end of Dangerous Liaisons. And thought. I thought a lot. Not a lot of it was cheerful, but I was far from depressed. God, that ceremony moved me. I still can't get it out of my head.

So, tonight, I'll end on a more solemn note, something I think is right to do, in light of the purpose of this night. I never knew those Aggies. I don't know how they died. I don't know anything about them except what was sent to my TAMU email, letting me know who Silver Taps was being held for tonight. So here is exactly what I know: names, and majors.



Tanner Lloyd Ferris, General Studies

Kimberley Michaela Kenyon, Biology

Nathan V. Shearod, Physics

Yi-Chun Yang, Molecular & Environmental Plant Sciences (Dept: Biology)




May they rest in peace.

Little Miracles

Ok, so just maybe 10 minutes ago I posted this blog. And yet now I'm back on it.

Ruthlessly honest. That was the goal. Let's see if I can do this. Breathe, and write.

I have not been homesick since I left for fish camp. I have missed my parents, yeah, but the way you miss a friend you haven't seen in a while. I haven't had that crushing, aching feeling I'd heard about from my friends. Tonight, I understood it for the first time. Maybe it was the bad night. Maybe it was talking to friends from high school, and realizing how much I missed them. Maybe its the lack of solid food in my stomach. I don't know, but something came rushing down on me and hit me with the force of an avalanche. I shut down my computer, and just started crying.

It's so much easier to talk about good times, isn't it? Just yesterday I felt fine. Tonight, though, at nearly one o'clock in the morning, everything feels so wrong, and I don't want to write it down. Honesty, though. Let's go.

I miss high school so much right now. I miss my best friends. I miss my teachers. I miss my cats. My parents, oh my God, I miss my parents. I miss my mom's laugh, and my dad's hugs, and even my brothers' teasing.

I miss forgetting school is over and leaving my ID on until someone teases me about it, because I've gone straight from school to theatre without a break. I miss working for hours in the auditorium on some random task, whether its fiddling with light levels or trying to build something for the next show, or setting up, or hell, even sweeping. I miss tech class, with everyone hanging out in the booth talking and waiting for class to start. I miss arguing politics and religion with my favorite teachers, who at this point I think of more as friends or mentors than teachers, because I feel so close to them. God help me, I miss being at the top of the food chain! I miss my little sisters and seeing how they look up to me, and knowing I have a job to do, satisfied that I know how to do it, knowing that I have a responsibility and others are depending on me to do it right. I miss 2 A.M. talks with the people in my class, trying to finish up some report or essay or whatever the hell is due that night. I miss so many little things, these little things that I marked my days by.

This may sound crazy, but I miss being apathetic about the guys in my life, outside of friendship. I feel like I should care now, so I do care, and it stresses me out. Every one of my girl friends keeps asking me, "have you met a guy yet? have you met a guy yet? Have you met a guy yet?" NO! I HAVEN'T! And that's not a freaking travesty. It was so much simpler when I had the excuse of every guy around me being gay, taken, or shorter than me.

I miss my family. More than anything else, I miss my family. I miss driving around after I get out with my mom, blaring 80s pop that my dad hates and we both love. I miss my dad teaching me to dance and swinging me around like I'm a rag doll, because no one else I know can do that. I miss late night talks, curling up in my dad's recliner to watch movies with my mom, because we only had that one piece of furniture in our living room. I miss my oldest brother's sarcasm, my middle brother's goofiness. I miss just being with my dad. I miss so many things.

Half an hour ago, all this hit me like a ton of bricks. For whatever reason, I felt so unbelievably sad and lonely. I posted as much on facebook, hoping one of my close friends would see it and send me message. I turned off my computer, laid down, started to cry, realized what was really bothering me and turned the computer back on. On a whim I logged back into facebook first. I had a message waiting. I figured it would be from someone from high school, someone I love so very dearly and have known for years.

Nope. It's a message from a girl I barely know, someone I met at fish camp. She sends her love, and her support.

Little miracles. They happen every day; sometimes its completely random. Sometimes, it's just a good hearted person acting on a whim. Either way, they can radically change your perspective.

Earlier, I talked about how nervous I was, how upset I was. So, I'm going to try and rewrite my day, and focus on the good.

So, I slept in today, feeling refreshed from the extra sleep. I made it to my first class in plenty of time to find a good seat. My first class was fantastic. Headed to my second class, and during it, made some points that my teacher actually seemed to approve of. After class, a random girl walked up to me and told me she loved my headscarf, and left. I went to the MSC Bookstore to pick up some books for my class, and managed to pick up the very last copies of 3 of them. Went to my poli sci class, which was supremely entertaining, both because of the teacher and because of the person sitting next to me's running commentary. Headed back to the MSC and bought an Odwalla, which I absolutely love and almost never get. Went home and watched a movie and read plays until a friend texted me about auditions, at which point I headed back out. I did get lost, and that did suck. But luckily one of my co-chairs was passing by and pointed us in the right direction. I found out I still have some need to audition, but that's all right, because I have until Wednesday to prepare. I can do this, and I will do it.

I am homesick, a little less now, but I am. That's all right. That's normal. But I am here, I am at Texas A&M University, and I am sure as hell not going home. I am LUCKY to be here. And no matter how much I may miss the way things used to be, I can make it just as good here. I just need to make this home.

Another thing. In the interim this took to write, another kind person sent me another message, another person I barely know. Two Aggies trumped all my high school friends. I love this place.

It can be home. It will be.

Signing off, this is Kat...grateful for the little miracles of life.

When bad things happen...write it out.

Jesus, tonight sucked.

The day was ok. I found out there's a guy I met at fish camp who's apparently in my Poli Sci class. He came vaulting over the seats, and I basically had the reaction of "What the--oh, it's you. Hello." You know this guy, it seems normal. I'm happy though, it's one of my biggest classes and it'll be nice to have someone I know in there.

Basically the only good thing that happened today. I had to pick up more books...and I'm getting up at 6 tomorrow to catch up on my reading. I have auditions tomorrow, and I'm dead nervous about it. Oh, and I'm on a liquid diet because the only things readily available that I know I can have are liquid.

I hate life sometimes though. A friend and I went to the Freudian Slip improv troupe auditions tonight. Let's start with getting there. They gave me a slip of paper at Open House telling me that auditions are from 8-11 in Read 162 (under Kyle Field). Those exact words. Thank you for the help. My friend and I start wandering around the stadium, me with visions of chainsaw-wielding serial killers jumping out at every opportunity, him laughing at my random screams of "WHAT THE #@$% WAS THAT, HOLY !@$@# *&%!&#^!!!!!". The fact that I've been catching up on classic horror films wasn't helping the matter. So, I'm wigging out. He is being less than supportive. We have no IDEA where we are going. 45 minutes later, we are 3/4 of the way around. I hear a familiar voice. It's one of my co-chair. I scream his name in relief. I think I scare the hell out of him. However, he is nice enough to point us in the right direction without even making fun of me. My 'friend', apparently, gets his kicks from making fun of everyone we meet. I am pissed by his reaction the second my incredibly nice co-chair walks away. I'm starting to thing this friendship may not work out.

Anyway. So, with my co-chairs help, we find the freaking place. Another 5 minutes later and we find our way to the right room, after wandering the building and asking some random person working there for directions. We walk into the room, and sit down quietly, because there are people performing.

Before we continue, I want to make something clear. He went to audition. I went to sign up for tech. Because that's what they told me to do, right? Show up after auditions were over and sign up. Four different people told me this. I get there, and they tell me they want me to try and audition.

To be fair, they told me they understood if I was bad, that they knew I just wanted to help out, that I would not be judged on my improv skills. It doesn't matter. Some of you guys have seen me improv. You KNOW how bad it is. For the safety of those around me, its a good idea for me to stay away from it. Hell, I had people ask me NOT to partake in improv games, it was so dangerous.

Why couldn't they just be up front about this little fact? They may not think its a big deal, but it is. It really, really is. I try and improv in front of these people, I will never be able to show my face around them again. It's that bad. I cannot, CANNOT do this, is my first reaction.

So, I did what any sensible person would do: I left.

Not for good; I just needed to clear my mind, process this new information. One of the guys told me I could come back on Wednesday if I changed my mind. I don't know what to do. On the one hand, it doesn't seem worth it. On the other, I feel like I'm just being a coward.

I am literally sick to my stomach over this. Well, maybe that's partly the Odwalla, but still. What am I supposed to do? This is supposed to be fun. And yet all I feel is miserable.

Time for bed, I suppose. I'll sleep on the question. I have until Wednesday to decide.

Until then, this is Kat...uneasy and unhappy, for the first time since coming here. Wish me luck, and send me love, please.

2 Separate Storylines, One Post

As I said, two things.

#1, let's go with the weekend.

We know I started off the weekend badly. The rest of it, though, made up for it.

The game yesterday was FANTASTIC. Not going to lie, we weren't playing well for at least the first quarter, but we ended up beating SFA 48-7. AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :)

I took a ton of photos. And (under supervision, parents, so don't worry) a few of the fish camp people took my camera, so I actually have some photos of myself for once. Got some really great shots, by the way, I was happy. But I want my video camera! I'm completely out of film. It's crazy annoying. I'm so used to walking around with it in my hand, I don't know what to do with myself. For those of you who don't know me all that well, I'm a crazy video stalker--I constantly run around with a camera and camcorder, so its always strange for me to be without. I make videos out of the footage I collect, too; set it to music with a storyline. I started a documentary a few years ago, I do still want to finish that...obviously just for private use, but still.

I enjoyed talking to everyone around me, for sure. Even standing for the entire game wasn't too bad, although I was definitely glad I wore comfortable shoes!

Speaking of the game...how do I even begin? Well, we won, like I said. Meaning more the atmosphere, though...81,000 people showed up, most of them Aggies. This was a HORDE of screaming people. Claustrophobic, and yet fun, almost like a concert pit or something similar. Since this was the first football game, period, I'd been to in probably 10 years, it was definitely a crazy experience. I loved it, and I'm definitely going to as many as I possibly can.

Anything else about my first A&M football game since I was, what, 6? I don't think so. I doubt I could even find enough to say about a play by play. If you saw the game, you had pretty much the same experience I did, sans crowd fever.

So, on to today. Slept late. Certainly needed it! And then today, around 2, I met up with my DG counselors to go and check out the open house. Way too many people, but I picked up some lovely flyers for the Book Club, Cinema, Rock Climbing, etc. We parted after about an hour, I headed back here and crashed. I was going to go to the Freudian Slip show, but I slept through it. I actually am only awake now because one of my friends woke me up texting and I can't get back to sleep now. I'm going to try again in a minute.

First, though, I have something to say.

This is #2:

I am so tired of letting friends pass out of my life. I look back at old pictures, of the good times we had, and I wonder why the hell I ever let it go. I have so many friends I haven't talked to in ages. Why not? I don't really know. Probably the same reason they haven't contacted me. Shit happens. Life happens. Things just get in the way, and it gets less and less important as time goes on.

And yet, what could possibly be more important?

A grudge, maybe. A fight. Time, distance, events that couldn't be helped. The things we do to another, and the scars we bear because of it.

I'm starting to wonder if we bear those scars by choice. Why not try and heal them? Sure, you might reopen old wounds. It can't possibly hurt as much as it did the first time. It's a gamble, but, I think, one worth taking. Otherwise, you might let someone slip out of your life forever who could be the most important person you'll ever know.

Fights, I think, are the only legitimate reason to let someone go, at least for a little while. In this day and age, time and distance are arbitrary. You might drive 10 hours to meet family, and yet not take the 2 seconds it takes to send an email or a message. Facebook makes staying in touch so easy, and yet people don't take advantage of it. It takes 2 seconds to send a message to a friend, just saying hi. Or maybe 5 minutes to send a long one, a personal message. It's so stupid to let friendships die because we can't spare a few minutes.

The real problem is that we take friendship for granted. We have our high school friends, our college friends, our friends from this group, our friends from childhood. Whatever it is, we label it and compartmentalize it and never think about the fact that really, we just have friends. We may have met them in a specific place or time, but in the bigger picture, they are just our friends.

Or, maybe not. Maybe we call them "friends", but we really don't care about them all that much. Maybe we add them to boost our sense of self, and don't really think about the meaning of the word "friend".

The point isn't a facebook rant, though. The point is that we let friendships die for no other reason than we don't want to take time--not even that we don't have it, but that we don't take it. Those five minutes we spent randomly surfing the web could have been spent sending a long message to a friend.

I've got a mission, then. Start getting back in touch with people. In some way, they are important to me, because they always have been. Almost no fight, no bad time can refute the good, I think, unless you let it; and if there was no fight, there's no reason to let it go.

Signing off, this is Kat, wondering about the people in her life, and determined to keep them there.

Free Hugs Campaign (or, my morning revelations)

Before I say anything else, take a few seconds and watch this video.





This is one of my favorite videos. It just inspires me, maybe because of the song, but also because of the story.

Think about it for a minute. Human contact is one of the most basic needs in life. Scientific studies prove this. One study showed a hug in the morning can improve your mood all day. Don't believe me? Look it up. Type in "hug study" on Google; you'll get about five million results.

Is it so weird, then to be a huggy person? I'd say, we just know what's good for us.

I love to give hugs. It's a part of me that I have never in my life denied. Family, friends, teachers, acquaintances, none are immune to my affection. Some of my parents favorite stories involve this part of me; leaving Van Junior High, one of my teachers cried how much she would miss her daily hugs. When I was in a community theatre up in Arlington, CATS, if I was leaving everyone would stand up--they knew I was going to do the rounds. If I care about you pretty much at all, you are going to get a hug from me as I see you and as you leave. (Unless, of course, I feel like you don't want me to. I'm not THAT invasive.)

I'm thinking about all this because I had such a bad night last night. If one person had hugged me as I left, I would have felt substantially better. Not blaming anyone--once I left, I didn't even SEE anyone I knew. Sometimes, though, you just need a hug. That's probably the first time I've been even a little homesick. I miss my dad's bear hugs and my moms gentler ones. I'm so much taller than my mom that I can rest my chin on her head. It's kind of reversed--I feel like I'm protecting her. That's not a bad thing; I love her so much, and I would like to be able to protect her. She seems so little and fragile, when I'm hugging her; that's one time when I know she's safe.

Point being, I want to start a Free Hug Campaign in College Station. One Saturday, maybe, in a busy area. It's something I've always wanted to do, and I think now would be a good time. Anyone with me?

Going on. I feel better this morning. Woke up to some sweet messages from people I love. It's amazing how much a little note can make you feel so good. I'm also remembering a few things I didn't say last night, that I'd like to say.

1. I got my Macbook! I love it. Absolutely amazing piece of technology, it's fast and powerful and it does everything I could want it to.
2. Gluten free pizza!!! ...enough said.
3. Stage and Lighting Design book! Should be enough said, but: for those of you who don't know, I love tech theatre as much as I love acting, and design is one of my favorite parts of that. Last night my dad bought me the DEFINITIVE textbook on this subject, the one I used to write my lighting design papers last year. I'm more than a little love. And, he also picked up some CDs for me: Green Day: Warning!, U2's The Joshua Tree, and Lisa Loeb: &Nine Stories. I love music so much, Half Price clearance section baby!
4. Elaboration on the hair dude. I don't know how I forgot to say this. Last night, the guy who put a lightbulb in his hair? Reason it was so funny is that is hair is all these different shades of red and orange (he dyed his hair red for camp, and its fading). When he turned on the light, it looked like he'd lit his hair on fire. Giant lighter. Epic win. XP
5. Unpacked my LitMags from junior year! Senior mags are still back in Houston I think (sad, because those have my favorite pieces by far) but I was excited to find the ones I have. Anyone who doesn't know, LitMag= Literary magazine; prose, poetry, art, and photography, combined into one amazing work. I was lucky enough to have some pieces accepted into 4 litmags my junior and senior year, and I love reading them--you get some really fantastic writing.

Attitude for the day: try and concentrate on the good things, and forget the bad.

Free hugs, anyone?

~Kat