"A COMEDIAN AT THE OSCARS."

Best part of the Academy Awards Ceremony. Ever.

I SERVE TO WIN APPLAUSE.

Pictures. Yep.

THINGS THAT I KNOW.

1. I have found love. Possibly the love of my life. But love regardless.
2. I love to type. I may complain about it, but typing allows me a vocabulary I could never truly pronounce, heathen that I am.
3. I love stage makeup. I enjoy putting it on, designing it, and finding justification for occasionally letting my girly side out.
4. I want to own my own pet. For reals.
5. There are people in my life that I trust, and people that I do not. That is the way that things will be forever, and I have come to accept that.
6. I have found love in those around me, whether they know it or not. I think they know it, though.
7. I am perpetually exhausted, and I am okay with that.

WORST VALENTINE'S DAY EVER.

That's really all I need to say.
Goodnight.

TUPPERWARE PANDAS AND LOVE.

For Michael.

This is Chauncy, and he is my best friend.

This is Gregory, and he is one laid-back motha-effa. He loves you. Really.

THE YEAR OF THREE VALENTINES.

I have every intention of acting the fool tomorrow and pretending I'm giddy and far from saddened. The truth is, of course, that I'm a giant, smelly liar.

I am aching to be with the person I love more than anything. I am perpetually drawn towards the reality that he is entirely unattainable for the next long while, and that hurts more than any greeting card and box of candy could subdue or diminish.

I have Valentines here to love and keep cheerful and jaunty around, but the one I miss the most will just have to share in the sentiment of my words.

I love you.
I guess that's all I can possibly say.

WELCOME BACK, MY GOOD FRIEND.

I single-handedly installed my new laptop hard drive (No great feat I recognize, but, still...), and I now have re-gained my computer livelihood. I'm incredibly happy to finally have the access I've missed so much, which means I may actually have the capability to do homework! And sleep! Not just one or the other!

Alright. I'm off to be moderately productive.

STAYING ALIVE...SORT OF.

It has been nearly an infinite amount of time since my last opportunity to post on this site, and the primary reasons for that, in descending order, are as follows:

1. My laptop crashed.
2. Life is insanity personified.
3. My laptop is dead.
4. I am enrolled in seventeen hours of classes, as well as part-time work.
5. Laptop = Bye Bye.

I am consistently exhausted, and most of that revolves around the inability to schedule my Computer-Needs-Time around Library-Open-Hours. It's disheartening, but I've been able to manage thus far. If I can make it through this next week, anything is possible.
I'm talking, flying ponies and junk. Anything.

On another note, it's odd to see my best friend indulge in something I've embraced for such a long time. In earnest, I never thought I would see the day when he would let his fingers clack against a keyboard for the sheer joy of typing and expression. Now, however, I'm glad to know that I can communicate in additional manners and customs than were previously allotted to the two of us.
I miss him.

On that note:

WEEKENDS ARE FOR CALAMITY. AND J-HUD.

"Calamity" might be a bit harsh- how about "overwhelming discord and mayhem?"
Nice.

1. I am intensely lucky to have by my side (hypothetically speaking) the one man I love and infinitely care about in the midst of everything that life entails.
2. I am grateful for my peers and confidantes, for they never seem to let me down when I am left in foul moods or with an air of sadness about me.
3. And, best of all, I am endlessly blessed to live in a time when YouTube has, ready at my fingertips, Jennifer Hudson being a bad-ass diva on television that I don't get up early enough to watch.

I love her, I do.

IT'S ALL ABOUT DUALITY.

It seems relatively logical to me that the first full week of classes would lend itself to bringing out the most emotionally unstable side of me, as well as providing the most intellectually hostile and physically draining environment one could possibly fathom at this point in time.

Indeed.

I have survived the first seven days of what I expect to be the most taxing semester I've had thus far in my collegiate career. That, in itself, must be seen as some sort of accomplishment. If taking seventeen hours weren't enough, there's rehearsal and general (and always theatrical) insanity to surround my non-existent free time.

On that note: rehearsals are proceeding well, and I am excited for the production at large, along with all of the people I am gifted enough to work with. It is truly a joy to have people eager to allow me the space and freedom I need to be spontaneous, ridiculous, and totally distracted from everything else I don't want to have floating into a genuinely creative atmosphere. Maybe that sounds unintentionally odd, but this is one of my first performance experiences that is facilitating my desire for comedic expression and downright silliness in the midst of a genuinely great text. It's making me happy, and I'm not sure what more can be said about it.

Fricandeau.

The group of individuals I have spent most of my time with in the past two weeks are suddenly the people I care most about in the world. I have found a number of incredibly intelligent, compassionate, and honest human beings. I love them. I have so many people in my life so worthy of loving that, despite how tumultuous everything becomes, I am an infinitely lucky kiddo.

I may be depressed, but at least I'm grateful.

THE NINTH.

Today has felt moderately volatile.
Perhaps that juxtaposition of words is startling, or maybe, to other minds, reassuring. It felt to me as though no level of balance could validate the fact that I am in a place (both physically and metaphorically) that leaves me simultaneously joyful and longing for more. I have an urgency within me that seeks relief in whatever manic result it can find, coupled with a growing complacency towards the things and individuals surrounding me.
Indeed, I must agree: how infinitely odd.

It's already tomorrow. Classes will restore the chaos of daily living, and I remain both hopeless and overly confidant in my desire to exist.

'Tis simple enough a task, I suppose.

SPRING, 2007.

Back.
Registration.
So infinitely glad.
Feeling kind of awkward.
This semester better prove to be an amazing one.

THE DAY THAT FEELS AS THOUGH IT WILL NEVER END.

Despite the fact that I've garnered a total of seventy-five minutes of sleep in the last thirty hours, I am still feeling relatively upbeat.
And, despite the rather groaning fact that my flight from Charlotte to Allentown in officially dead (in the sense that the FAA has cancelled it and held a service in its non-existant honor), I have been typing, reading, and playing UNO online. The news of its earlier cancellation was abrupt if not relatively shocking, leaving me in a rush with sixty other passengers, all fighting tooth and nail for answers and flight vouchers.
At the moment, I'm scheduled to depart from the great state of North Carolina just after two PM, at which point I head out to Pittsburgh, at which point (and this is the section where I'm crossing fingers and doing a holy jig), I catch a flight to Eastern PA.
This is, of course, pending all the the tumultuous energy that is floating around this airport, stuffed with individuals who would give arms and legs to have comfortable seating, inexpensively priced dining, and better yet, the golden ticket back into loved ones' arms.
This airport thing can get moderately weepy. I haven't reached the brink of dreariness just yet, but, in a positive spirit, there is always opportunity for growth. That is, depression.
Nah. I'm relatively confident that this should work out in the end. At the very least, maybe they'll pay for my damn nine dollar crab cake sandwich.

OH, CHRISTMAS TREE.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (and his Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat)," this is the most unbelievably wonderful thing ever.


(Note: This is, of course, in leiu of a play-based post this evening. After all, it is Christmas.)

A PEAR SLICE IN YOUR JELLO.

Tonight was, despite the fact that is was a wet and rainy Christmas, considerably warm.
Not in temperature, per se, but in the hearth-esque glow that steamed out from the people I shared company with. The description might seem off-putting or, dare I say it, "smutty" in those terms, but, in fact, it was a most civilized occasion.
Civilized, that is, when the grown-ups weren't making penis jokes.
Lucky for me, I have one of the most energetic and sassy Uncle Franks known to man, and his companions are some of the most fabulously entertaining individuals I could have imagined spending my holiday time with. We were treated to a delicious dinner, saucy conversation, platonic embraces, and, best of all, the most fruity celebration this side of...well, conservatism.

It never ceases to amaze me how wonderful old, orchid-loving men can be.

And, yes: this book definitely was the focus of their coffee table.

MEDEA

By Christopher Durang and Wendy Wasserstein

-To be honest, as tempting as Medea is, the Chorus is the best part of this show, hands down, no questions asked. Totally.

NO SHOULDER

By Nina Shengold

-Ruth is obviously the nicer of the two parts (especially seeing as I'm too old to play a "waif-ish" sixteen-year-old).

WHY DOES BLOGGER HATE ME?

Am I stuck with an infinitely unappealing white screen, or is this just a test-post?

You be the judge.

(Hint: It's the former. Definitely the former.)

UPDATE: Blogger doesn't hate me. It loves me. And it's back to normal.

EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENT, TAKE ONE.

Oh, how deeply compassionate my family can be when I find myself needing them the most.

Christmas and 20th Birthday presents now consist of [somewhat expensive] tickets to see Mr. Read in the Poconos from the 31st to January 4th, at which point I meet up with family at Hilton Head Island for a mini-family reunion.

I am overjoyed and giddy.
And those two adjectives can't even begin to reinforce how much I miss him.


[Note: Not Gerard. He has a creepy "porn stache." And staches, of any form, are just scary.]

CLOSER

By Patrick Marber

-I'm not sexy enough to play either Anna or Alice (as a character actress often should not be), and I am totally and completely okay with that.