Holding My Tongue

(Me getting a kiss from an intoxicated 2nd-year)

As you may or may not know, I have tonsillitis. To answer your questions:
- No, I'm not contagious.
- No, I don't have to get my tonsils removed.
- No, I didn't get it from making out with someone (sadly... I think I'd be less embittered about the whole thing if I'd at least gotten to make out with someone as part of the deal).
- Yes, I've been eating an inexcusably massive of ice cream as a means to cope with it, despite the fact that my voice professor has warned against dairy (I've literally gained at least 5 pounds in the last week that does not appear to be water weight).

My voice professor put me on "vocal rest", which means I haven't been allowed to talk or whisper since Saturday. I don't think I was ever fully aware of just how much I sing, whisper, and talk to myself until this weekend. It's been rough.

Being silent has actually been sort of a neat experience. I've learned to communicate through a complicated non-language comprised of facial expression, gesturing, mime, and interpretive dance. I have also been carrying a notepad and pen with me everywhere I went.

So here's a little advice for you, if ever you find yourself in a self-imposed silent state (or a professor-imposed one).

- Do not try to do transactions with your bank.
It makes the teller uncomfortable when you approach with a note. It doesn't matter if you walk up smiling, or that the note is in purple ink, or that it just says that you want to deposit three checks, don't know your account number, and need to order a new checkbook. It doesn't even matter if you're a physically unimposing female in a tank top and capris who is clearly not able to conceal a handgun and do not have a complicated bombing mechanism strapped to any part of your body. Their eyes dart around to the security cameras as though you're about to blow the place to smithereens. (Although once we got past the initial awkwardness, she was very helpful.)

- Do go swim-suit shopping.
You still think all the bad thoughts, like "I look fat in this", "Are hips supposed to look like this?", and "I really wish that my professors hadn't forbidden us from doing sit-ups*". But not vocalizing them makes the experience a lot more pleasant and positive. (And I had a really great salesperson who was pretty straight with me about what looked good and what didn't. I ended up with a bright cerulean one-piece that I feel good in.)

*(True story. We're not allowed to do sit-ups because having too strong of ab muscles is bad for vocal production. Which is probably why you never see any really cut opera singers.)

- Do not get caught in any sort of "fair", "expo", or any day that involves people with booths and pamphlets at the local mall.
People will keep trying to demonstrate things on you or give you information, and you're really rather powerless to stop it. And when you walk away without saying "no thank you", they act like you've just offended them in a cruel and unusual manner**.

**This does not apply if you live in a real city. City-folk are used to passersby ignoring them. But if you're, say, in a medium-sized town in Florida, then it's a major problem.

- Do go to the beach by yourself in your shiny*** new swimsuit when it's completely overcast. It makes you feel way less self-conscious to be in a swimsuit on an empty beach than it would normally. And being there by yourself (or with a classmate who was supposed to sit in silence on a beach for two hours for a movement class homework assignment, as was my situation) is much better than being at a party with a bunch of people whom you wouldn't be able to speak with (which I skipped).

***(Not literally shiny. That could get tacky.)

- Do not feel the need to explain to strangers why you're not talking. It just makes people ask more questions that you're ill-equipped to answer (such as, "how long won't you be talking?", "how contagious are you?", and "so have you had your tonsils removed already, or do you have to do that soon?"). Better to just let them imagine whatever they want.

- Do use your entire body when trying to get ideas across in public.
Particularly when dealing with salespeople at the GAP. It'll take them forever to figure out that you can't find the large bottle of "So Pink" perfume and you wonder if they have any in the back, but it's so much more entertaining than just pulling out the notebook that you have and writing it down. They try to keep straight faces, but you know that they think it's hilarious. (At one point, I tried to pull out my notebook to write something, and the salesperson actually told me not to, insisting that she could decipher my charades if given a little more time.)

- Do not go to a drive-through window at a fast-food restaurant.
I didn't actually even try this. But oh, I wanted a Frosty from Wendy's so badly... but there was a line inside and I realized that the giant outdoor two-way microphone just wasn't going to work for me that day.


My voice professor gave me permission to speak in my acting class today if we did "etudes" (a specific exercise that we often do). But I grabbed my mile when she dealt me that inch. Even though we did NOT do etudes, I've been speaking half the day. And here's what I've learned:
- My throat barely hurts at this point. On a pain scale of 1-10 (10 being the worst pain I've ever experienced), swallowing is hitting at about a 0.3 right now.
- My voice is completely unaffected by this malady.
- It does not hurt to speak. At all.

So I've decided that, while her initial recommendation of vocal rest was most likely sound, carrying it out any further would be sensationalistic. I'm fine. And therefore, I'm exercising my right to free speech.


May you know when to stay silent and when to speak up.

~A~

Above Average Award

Thanks to The Dutchess of Kickball from average20something, I have a shiny present!



Oooh. That's going in my trophy case. Thanks, love!

~A~

Just Adjusting

You know what I should NOT be doing right now?

Blogging.

Whoops.

I have so much to do. Cleaning. Laundry. Shopping. Homework. Reading. Research. All the errands that I promised myself that I'd run today because it's easier to do them on Mondays than any other day but that I didn't run because I really like having Mondays off and completely doing nothing...

I keep allowing the things I deem to be "life" get in the way. Buying things for my Halloween costume with Wifey. Going to group functions and gatherings for socialization. Getting caught up on Battlestar Galactica so that I can discuss it with Killer. Discussing possible casting for the 2nd-years with my roommates. Trying to figure out what the heck a "sibilant s" sound is, why I have it, and how to get rid of it.

My concept of time here is so off. I've had four weeks of classes. In many ways I feel like I just got here. Some days pass so quickly, and others last forever, and somehow they all sort of blend together. It's weird that I haven't blogged since Thursday, because I feel like I just did it yesterday, and part of me feels like it's too soon to write again.

I don't understand my relationships. I have classmates. I have colleagues. I have roommates. I have professors. But I'm not sure I feel comfortable saying that I have friends.

Right now as I was typing, there was a giant BURST of thunder. But there's no rain. This place doesn't make sense.

I think I just need more time to find my place.

We still haven't gotten our understudy assignments, and I'm getting antsy. Rumor has it that they'll be posted on Thursday or Friday.

I went to a gathering last night, mostly of 2nd-years. Two of my classmates (All-the-Way & D-Train) were there, and we stuck together for most of the night.

We started discussing our "types". All-the-Way is worried that she's going to get typed as "The Ingenue" for the next three years, and D-Train is concerned that he'll be "The Lover". I hope they don't. They're both talented and versatile, and they can do so much more than those things that they're perpetually typecast as.

I told them that, in some ways, they're lucky. They know what their types are, so they can specialize. I have no clue where I'm going to be.

They told me they think I'm a leading lady; I'm just too young to get those roles yet. All-the-Way says she sees me as strong, striking, and sexy. When I refuted the sexy part, D-Train said I have a sexy energy, but I don't know how to tap into yet. He says it's easier for me to take it to a goofy place than the sexy place, but he thinks I'll learn how to refocus it. It was all very complimentary. I wasn't really sure how to take it (as usual... accepting compliments isn't my strong suit).

We discussed some of our concerns with our class. The guy who doesn't want to be here. The inequity already evident in the way exercises are divided. And, perhaps most importantly, the sexual tension surrounding us.

The vast majority of people here are either single or away from their significant others. One of my schoolmates once suggested that we should all just make out with each other and get it out of the way. I think he was only half-joking.

It's not so much that I need affection. It's more that I'm lonely. My roommates are rarely home, so I spend most of my evenings in solitude. Which shouldn't bother me, as I lived alone in Chicago. But it does.

I wish that when classes were over, I could just drive over to someone's house, cuddle with them, vent, and then have them tell me all the stories of their day that have nothing to do with the stories from mine. Someone to be there when I need them. Someone to be proud of me. Someone to stroke my hair and tell me that everything is going to be alright.

Here venting is weird, because everyone knows exactly what you're going through. You'd think that would help... but sometimes, it just means that you feel stranger about venting. I feel so whiny and weak.

But here we start a new week, filled with new challenges. And I know that I will survive it. Just like I did the week before. Just like I plan to in the weeks to come.

That's all for now. So much reading to do, not to mention all the physical homework (when's the last time your homework involved stretching your tongue while looking in a mirror?).


May the things in your life make a little bit of sense.

~A~

Uncrushed Basketcase

("Two Shots Up", "Killer", and Me at a party on Sunday)

I've been a basket-case all week. I think I've cried about 4 times, including through half of my acting class today (which was so uncomfortable... for everyone).

And I don't even really know why. I think it's just that everything started building up. I cried reading a play. I cried talking to my roommates. I cried through half of my acting class today for no apparent reason. I think it's all out of my system now, but I've been wearing my emotions for the last 72 hours.

I've been debating how much of my school existence to put on here. On the one hand, I really don't want anyone from school to find this blog and stumble upon things that I don't want them to know (they all know I'm a blogger, but I directed them towards my other blog, so that they won't come looking for this one. So far, so good... On the other hand, I really want to be able to blog about this stuff, as that's the way I deal with most of my problems...

Anyway, I guess this post is my test run, to see how comfortable (or not) I am with this sort of stuff. Wish me luck.


I think I'm a pretty smart cookie, but it's getting me into trouble. I monopolized a class discussion on Oedipus on Tuesday (but honestly, I was frustrated, fired up, and speaking in an intelligent manner the entire time... I think my professor appreciated it, but I don't know it my classmates were okay with it or not). I challenged a couple of my classmates' opinions in voice class (which we were encouraged to do by the professor) and they seemed offended (especially when I was right). And I'm worried that I might get a reputation for being intellectually prickly, which is the last thing I want.

Also, I think I offended a professor this week. Actually, potentially two professors. Why? Because I don't much like dogs and was pretty vocal about it... and they both happen to have dogs that they treat like their children. And the one professor told the other professor about it. And the whole 2nd-year class is mad at me because now the one professor isn't going to bring in her dog to class this year like she did last year as a result of it. Gah! I don't think I should have to be sorry for not wanting a dog in my voice class while I'm doing relaxation exercises. She asked if dogs make anyone uncomfortable, and I didn't think I should have to lie and act like I love them.

Whatever.

It's just been a long week.

And on top of that drama, AND all the school work I'm doing, there is the social aspect of things. And that, as one would expect, is complicated.

I went to a party on Sunday that was held at the house of two people who are donors for the program that I'm at. They had an open bar and a hot tub, so I think we all knew that there were going to be weird situations that arose by the end of the night. Let's just say that I have a lot of pictures that didn't make it to Facebook.

Two of my classmates looked like they were about 5 seconds away from making out THE ENTIRE NIGHT. He seemed to have forgotten that he has a SERIOUS girlfriend (who is moving down here for him in a few months). It was making me hideously uncomfortable.

Another of my classmates with a girlfriend was acting single, in what I'm sure was an alcohol-induced string of bad decisions. He tried to seduce my roommate. He leaned down and kissed my breast mid-conversation (COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE!!!). I'm pretty sure I saw him kiss a 2nd-year. And by the end of the night, he'd gotten into a fist-fight with a 3rd-year in a hot tub. (That was actually when I decided it was time for me to leave...)

As you may recall, all the males in my class are out-of-bounds for one reason or another. One is married, four are in serious relationships, one is gay, and one only dates "big booty hoes who like to freak" (which does not describe any of the females in this program).

One of the guys in my class is really awesome, and I really want to become good friends with him. He and I have similar tastes and a lot in common. I wrote on his facebook wall back in the summer that I had decided that he and I would be best friends once we got down here. But I haven't gotten that many opportunities to hang out with him. I finally did at this party, where he was appropriately intoxicated.

I talked with him a bunch, and he's just as cool as I thought he would be. In fact, I think I actually prefer him with booze in his system. The Drunk version is even funnier, cooler, and more adorable than the Regular version (I said the entirety of that sentence to someone else about him while standing directly next to him at one point). It was like Jim Carrey in The Mask. Regular him, but to the nth degree (I said that to him). Loved it.

For the record, I do not want to jump him. I think he's fascinating and awesome, but I think that in an "oh my God, we need to be best friends" kind of way, not an "I want his balls" kind of way. A completely non-sexual sort of crush. Also, I should reiterate that he has a girlfriend whom he seems very serious about. Therefore, I haven't been concerned about him crossing out of "As Good As Gay" territory.

Moving on (I swear there was a point to all of that)...

Okay, so in class on Tuesday, we had this exercise where you had to ambush your partner with a question as the class watched. First, you were supposed to clear your mind, then make a silent connection with the partner, and then ask a question based off of what you received from the partner.

One of the ambush scenarios between my classmates went something like this...
ONE: Do you want to be here?
TWO: No. This is just school. It's not interesting.
ONE: Then why are you here?
TWO: Because it's free.

I'll allow you to imagine how upset I was by that. I'm offended that there is someone in my class who is not grateful to be in this program. He takes it for granted. I don't think he even much likes it. This, I maintain, is the problem with people going to grad school straight out of undergrad: they don't appreciate it as much. It just seems like more of the same.

ETA: I realize that this does not apply to ALL people who go to grad school straight out of undergrad. I was still bitter when I wrote those words.

Anyway. I had to ambush the cool guy from my class directly after that. I had to work hard to clear my mind. If I hadn't, I'm sure I would've asked him "Are you resentful that someone in our class doesn't want to be here?", because that's what was really on my mind.

But I looked at him. And I thought about him performing magic tricks. And his ability to throw cards like weapons. And how he tells these crazy stories at parties. He's kind of a natural entertainer... And suddenly I wondered if he knew that those were the things that I associated with him. So I decided to ask, but it didn't come out the way I intended.

And so, sitting a couple of feet away from him, locking eyes with him, with the entire class watching, I asked, "How do you think I feel about you?"

He stared at me with a look of disbelief and started to blush. He didn't answer for about 5 seconds, which seemed way longer than it was. And in those 5 seconds, I knew what was going through his head. And I couldn't help but wonder if my classmates saw the same thing...

He totally thinks I have a crush on him.

Frak.

And the way the question came out of my mouth (as I replayed it over and over in my head) sounded somewhat flirtatious.

Double frak.

He stumbled over his words for a second. He ended up saying something about how he thought that I thought we had a lot in common, and that I looked to him as someone who could be my buddy... but his eyes told me that he was censoring himself. My professor saw it, too, (based on the way he was choosing his words so carefully as he answered) and called him out on it.

Some of my classmates complimented the question, as it clearly ambushed him in exactly the way we were supposed to. He was shocked by the question and couldn't answer it without becoming intrinsically focused, at least momentarily. It was probably one of the most successful questions of the entire exercise (and we spent at least 90 minutes on this).

The professor, unsatisfied with his self-censoring, made me ambush him again. And then again after that.

Finally, he ambushed me.

HIM: Do you find security in your hair?
ME: ... Sometimes.
HIM: Is that why you're afraid to cut it?
ME: ... Maybe. Partially.

The professor moved on from there. I didn't say what I wanted to say. I censored myself. I just didn't get caught.

What I should've said?

No. I'm afraid to cut my hair because I'm worried I won't be beautiful if I do. I'm afraid that men won't find me attractive. That's the real reason that I'm not going to cut it.

To go deeper... It probably has something to do with the men from my past. Pretty much all of them have had a thing for my hair. For example, if I cut my hair off and Brian stopped thinking I was beautiful... I don't think I could handle it.

How pathetic is that?

Obviously, I felt weird saying any of that in front of my class. Especially to this new pseudo-friend of mine, in light of the other ambush question that I had just asked him. Which is dumb. Particularly because I know that he prefers short hair on girls, so me saying that might have actually made him feel less like I wanted to jump him.

Oh well.

I actually went and apologized to my professor after class for not being open on that exercise. But I felt so weird about the earlier ambush question... And so vulnerable from the second.

Anyway. I still feel weird about the whole first-ambush thing. I don't know how much the rest of the class picked up on. I don't know how much they know about me telling him repeatedly that we're destined to be friends. I don't know if they know how many pictures I took of me and him at that party. I don't know if he even remembers that I called him cute and funny at the party (which I did NOT mean as flirting... I meant it sort of in a brother/sister way). I don't know if anyone else thought that I was flirting with him when I asked that question. I don't know if they noticed him blushing and pieced together why. I DON'T KNOW.

I feel awkward. Way awkward.

Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe he knows that I only think of him as a friend, and I'm completely over-reacting. I have, after all, been known to over-think things from time to time.

But in that moment? Horrible.



So there's one more thing I should mention about that party on Sunday...

I believe I mentioned that there's a guy who works for the theatre whom I thought might be flirting with me. Well, apparently he confessed to his roommate that he has a crush on a different girl in my class. I'm not sure how I felt about that when I first found out... Not really relieved, not really jealous, not really offended... But not apathetic, either. I felt something about it... Just nothing identifiable.

Anyway. Since I had learned that he was interested in someone else, I was able to mentally file him under "As Good As Gay". And I ended up having a long conversation with him at the party. And, unless I'm mistaken, I think he was kind of flirty... And I may have been flirty back... By the end of the night, he'd offered to cook me dinner and said he wanted to take me camping (both of those subjects arose organically and didn't sound like skeezy pick-up lines, I swear). As the conversation continued, he made both sound more like "group gatherings", but I couldn't help but wonder if there was something else implied. He wasn't asking me on a date, was he?

So Tuesday after class, I heard his roommate (one of my classmates) talking to the classmate of mine that he is rumored to have a crush on. He invited her to dinner at his place, saying "[roommate] has been itching to cook dinner for someone other than just me." So maybe I'm completely over-thinking the dinner and it really was just a friend thing. Or did he get his roommate to ask this particular girl because he has a thing for her?...

So, yeah. I feel weird about the classmate who thinks I might have a crush on him. And I also feel weird about this guy who may or may not be flirting with me. I actually feel more uncomfortable about two of the guys here who are really nice to me and I genuinely like than I feel about the guy who kissed my breast or the guy who thinks I'm trying to rape him with my hugs. That's some bizarre psychology, isn't it?

See, this is why I can't get involved with anyone here. I'm not even CLOSE to being involved with anyone, and it's already awkward and uncomfortable. Blergh.

It's so much better to just stay uncrushed.


May your non-sexual crushes not get complicated.

~A~

Secretly Cinderella

[NOTE: Part of this post was taken verbatim from yesterday's post on my grad school blog, but this one is longer and more detailed.]

Today was my first audition at grad school. And it was... weird.

Normally, auditioning doesn't make me nervous. My Shakespeare coaches taught me to go into every audition with the mentality that I'm proud of what I've worked on, I'd like to share it with them, I think they'll like it, and it doesn't bother me if I'm not what they're looking for.

But this wasn't like most auditions.

Usually when you audition for things, you don't know any of the people in the room with you. Today wasn't like that. When I walked out onto the stage, I saw:

- My Analysis Professor (who is also the head of the program)
- My Acting Professor
- My Voice Professor
- My Movement Professor
- The 2nd Year Acting Professor (who is the woman who called me back at URTAs both years)
- Three 2nd year directing students, who are in two of my classes with me
- One of my roommates (she was helping to run the auditions and time monologues)

Yeah. Weird.

And I know they're all on my side. But to see people out of the corner of your eye writing things down on notepads, and knowing that it's not just about whether to cast you, but also all the flaws that they need to correct over the next three years?

Nerve-wracking.

I totally rushed my pieces. By about 10-20 seconds. Which doesn't sound like much, but it's a lot (especially when you have 3 minutes to do two monologues).

I talked to my roommate, and she said I did a great job. She also complimented my choice of monologues, saying they were of excellent contrast (something that not everyone achieved with their pieces).

Apparently, most people start figuring out what their "type" is while there here. Some are obvious from the get-go. One of my classmates is clearly built to be an ingenue. One is a tough guy. One girl looks more maternal. One guy is the pretty-boy leading man. One is going to be our main "character actor". This is not to say that they can't do other things; they can. Everyone here is a versatile actor. But in this business, it's good to know who you are, what people think of you, and what you can specialize in. It'll help you get more work.

No one can really type me yet. One of my classmates said he was mentally putting me as "the sexpot", but now that he's gotten to know me, I think I've broken that in his mind. No one else has really given me a good idea of what I might end up being.

My roommate said that, based on my audition, she thinks I'm going to play both extremes: leading ladies AND character roles. I really, really, really hope she's right. That would be the ideal situation for me. Specialization is nice and all, but I'd really love to have the opportunity to try the leading lady role. Once I hone that skill, I think I can rock it. And, more importantly, I don't want to be shut off from any path yet. I want to try a little of everything.

I tend to be cast in "character actress" sorts of roles. Not that I don't adore character work; I do. (Clearly... I did, after all, create Carmella and Hot Cocoa.) But just once, I'd like to be something a little different. In college, I played an Irish priest, a karate-fighting Mexian lawyer nun, a dead 75-year-old British woman, an ugly stepsister, a 50-year-old church gossip, a new-age sort of hippie... But I've never played the protagonist. I've never been the love interest that the leading man was trying to pursue. I've never played the strong young woman that I think is part of who I am in life.

I want to know what it is to be Cinderella instead of an ugly stepsister. And I know I can do it. I hope they realize that, too.

Apparently, they type you with your understudy assignments. If that's true, then I should have a better idea sometime next week.

Well, I should go do some homework. I've been switching between working on my Oedipus paper and watching season 4 of Battlestar Galactica (which takes forever, because I'm doing it online and nothing loads quickly). I'm also headed to a party tonight that's being thrown by some of the program's donors. Apparently it's an annual event and usually ends with several people getting naked. I plan to leave before it gets to that point.


May you know who you are and, more importantly, who you can be.

~A~

9/11

~A~

Blogiversary

(picture taken a year ago, the same week that this blog was born.)

As you may recall, this isn't my first blog. I had one for four years that was lost in the Diary-X crash of 2006. I was so crushed by the loss that I thought I'd never blog again. I'm glad I was wrong.

If you'd told me when I started this that I'd still be blogging in a year, I'm not sure I would've believed you. If you'd told me that I would actually be "a blogger", and not just a person with a blog, I would've rolled my eyes. If you'd told me that I'd go to blogger meet-ups? I would've laughed. And if you'd told me that my relationships with people I'd met online would become as precious to me, if not more so, than the relationships I've developed in the real world? I would've cried.

But I'm proud of where the last year has taken me. I'm happy to be able to look back and have a chronicle of my life. I've made great friends through blogging. I've met amazing people as a result, both online and in real life.

I want to thank you all for being a part of my life. And while I couldn't possibly thank each and every one of you, there are many deserved thanks that I cannot ignore.

Thank you Amy, for reaching out to a stranger in a time of need.

Thank you Barry, for reading my blog from the beginning, and continuing to keep up with it even as you've forgotten your own.

Thank you Brian, for listening to me ramble for hours and hours in between the blog posts. And thank you for continuing to read all of them, even during the bad times.

Thank you C, for sharing such beautiful stories and large margaritas with me.

Thank you D, for organizing the meet-up that started the rest of my adventures in blogger-land.

Thank you Dan, for having a playful spirit. I love that you're willing to dance, wear pirate hats, and do origami to put smiles on other people's faces.

Thank you Fabulously Broke, for linking to my posts and sending tons of traffic my way.

Thank you Gary for all of your emailed support. It means a lot to me that you put so much thought into our correspondence.

Thank you Heidi, for always leaving such encouraging comments. You've given me some amazing compliments for my book.

Thank you Jenn, for being there for me when I really needed someone.

Thank you Jess, for designing a fantastic header for me.

Thank you Jessi, for telling stories about "rage girl" and making me feel braver.

Thank you Joy, for always putting me at ease. And for informing me of the stupid things I did while intoxicated. And also for being a total rock star at karaoke.

Thank you Julia for reminding me of myself at a younger age. I'm reliving life vicariously through you a little bit. I hope that you'll be able to continue blogging as you start college, because I always get excited to see new things from you show up on my Google Reader. (NOTE TO ALL: Check this chick out. She's seriously awesome.)

Thank you Katie, for recommending my blog on Blog Day, as well as on several other occasions. And also for always sharing awesome stuff on Google Reader.

Thank you Kendrick, for believing that I had potential as a blogger before I'd even nailed down a style.

Thank you Nico, for making me feel like everything I write is worth reading. You might very well be my biggest fan, and I can't tell you how encouraging it has been to read your comments.

Thank you Nilsa, for always cheering me on.

Thank you Pete, for making me feel safe and never judging me.

Thank you Rachel, for comforting and cheering me in a way that only moms can. And thank you for being the best commenter ever.

Thank you Renee, for telling me to join 20-Something Bloggers. Thank you for adding your voice to the blogging world and saying I inspired you to do so (which is one of the greatest compliments I have ever received). And thank you for sending me the yoga mat that I now spend time with on a daily basis.

Thank you Ricky, for allowing me to know you on such a deep level, and for being a friend to me when I really needed one.

Thank you Ailene and Ian for beginning blogs of your own and allowing me to think that I may have had something to do with it.

Thank you The Infernum Flame and ShadowJim for introducing me to glorious things like The Guild and Rock Band which have improved my life significantly.

Thank you Angie, Cheryl, Deutlich, Erin, Jamie, Jessi, K, Kayleigh, Maxie, Princess Pointful, Slaus, and Veronica, for entering my world and allowing me to see what fascinating and wonderful people you all are.

Thank you to all my readers, especially those of you who leave comments. Getting feedback on this blog makes me feel like I have some sort of purpose with it. At several times in the last year, my readers have been better friends to me than the people I've surrounded myself with in real life. Thank you for all the support, the advice, and the encouragement. You mean so much to me, and I don't even know most of you.


May every year get better.

~A~


P.S. If you want to get me a really great blogiversary present, I'd love a bit of delurking. Comments -- whether from strangers or from friends -- are always appreciated. Just say hello, and you'll make me smile. :)

When Other People Drink

(Me and "Iceman", the classmate who knew exactly how to comfort me.)
Last night was... interesting.

One of the directing students threw a gathering/party that tons of people from all three classes were able to attend. I stuck to water all night long, but mostly everyone was pretty hammered. Here's a summary of important events:

- One of my male drunken classmates told a female classmate that he wants to sleep with her. (NOTE: He has a serious girlfriend.)

- One of my female drunken classmates was ALL OVER a male drunken classmate. (NOTE: He has a serious girlfriend.)

- One of my drunken classmates made me cry.

- One of my drunken classmates comforted me from crying with tremendous skill, and I felt far better once it was all over than I had felt even before I was crying. He told me how grateful he is that I'm in his class, and that he appreciates how I bring something to classes that no one else does. He said he thinks it's important that I come into everything with a spirit of honesty, and that he knows I'm talented. It was the best cheer up speech I've heard in a long, long time.

- I started seriously considering getting a drastically short haircut.
Thoughts?

- The classmate who reacted badly to my hug last week? I haven't touched him since, for fear of doing something wrong. When he was leaving, I went for a handshake. He grabbed my hand with both of his hands warmly. I sat back down in my chair and faced away from him. He put his hands on my shoulders with care and began telling everyone I was near how great he thinks I am. So I reached behind me to give him a sort of backwards hug around the legs, saying, "Awww, thanks." He pushed my hands away, was clearly upset, and walked away. (NOTE: I was sitting in a chair with a back on it, so the reach was awkward, I barely touched his clothed legs, and there was a chair between us. It was not in any way, shape, or form a sexual advance or a flirtatious move. And HE TOUCHED ME FIRST!)

- One of my classmates drunkenly insisted on starting a conversation on the strangest places we'd had sex, which led to me breaking rule #33 in an awkward and uncomfortable manner. (33. Don’t tell classmates about my (lack of a) sexual history. Remember that it is none of their business.) Now everyone knows. And I wish they didn't.

- I think a guy was flirting with me. He's not in the program, so part of me thinks that he isn't really out of bounds according to my self-imposed stipulations (no one in the program, ESPECIALLY not in my class). But he's the roommate of one of my classmates, and he works for the theatre, so it wouldn't come without complications. Don't know him very well yet, so I guess I shouldn't think too much about it. It's incredibly possible that nothing will ever happen, so why should I stress?

- I went out to breakfast with the braver, more awake people from the group. I didn't get home until about 6:15am. It's been a very long time since I've seen 6:15am from that end of the day.



There's one more resolution I've broken, by the way...

5. Do not gossip behind people’s backs.

I can't help it. It's human nature. I'm sorry, but there's just no way I'm going to be able to make it through this without venting.

My method of limiting the damage is to only discuss things with people from other classes. And by people, I mean my two roommates (a 3rd year and a 2nd year), and our neighbor girls (a 3rd year and a 2nd year). The four of us get together and say what we need to say about our respective classes with the knowledge that it will not go beyond us. And that's a beautiful thing.


May you refrain from using alcohol as an excuse.

~A~

An Accidental Flirt

("Disco" and "Thrill" <-- who is not the classmate that I mention in this post)


Hello. My name is Angela, and I am a flirt.

And the worst part is, I don’t even realize it.

I’ve been referred to as a flirt several times in the last month, for one reason or another. Mostly, I’ve brushed out these accusations, seeing them as exaggerations of reality. But when you hear something over and over again, you begin to wonder if it’s true.

At first, I thought, “I don’t know how to flirt.” Which is true. Whenever there’s someone I want to flirt with, I’m at a loss. I’m ill at ease. I clam up. Or I say too much. Or every stupid or inane thought that has ever entered my head suddenly pours out of my unfiltered mouth in a strange and uncomfortable jumble of word vomit. I can’t flirt successfully.

I don’t understand the act of flirting in general. Particularly the way men seem to do it around me. Making fun of me? Making fun of things I like? I’ve been told that this sort of “teasing” is flirting, but I don’t take it that way. I take it as a form of disrespect.

(Take note, male readers who might wish to flirt with me in the future.)

I also don’t understand slutty flirting. Making everything dirty? Working sexual things into conversation? Flat out propositioning people in public? Not attractive. I don’t get it.

Maybe it’s just that I’m some sort of late bloomer. I remember the first time I learned the word “flirting”. It was November of my freshman of high school. Yes, that’s right. I entered high school with no prior knowledge of what flirting was. A senior boy was shocked, confused, and amazed by the fact that I didn’t understand the word he had just used. He tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to explain it. I believe his definition was something along the lines of this: whatever someone does to try to let someone of the opposite sex know they’re interested.

Clearly, his definition was not a perfect one, but that’s pretty much what I thought flirting was until I got to college. Until then, I’m fairly certain I was unaware that you could flirt with people you were NOT interested in.

I didn’t flirt, because I didn’t know how to.

It wasn’t until last spring that I got a better idea of what was I was doing.

I played a particularly flirtatious character in a play, and I was lost on how to do it. I stated practicing with guys in the cast outside of rehearsals. They tried to explain things to me. I got the hang of some more than others, but I was able to make progress.

Pretty soon, I started taking my work home with me. Sometimes actors have baggage. Sometimes strong characters begin to seep into your own life. After one play, I started saying “lovely” with great frequency because of my character’s tendency to do so. After another play, I unconsciously floated into and out of a horribly fake British accent without warning. And as a result of the play last spring, I became a flirtier person.

At first, I was aware of it. I figured it was just a sort of phase, and that it would eventually end.

I guess I assumed that it had.

But clearly that’s not the case.

I think I just became less aware of it. I forgot what flirting was, and began doing it unconsciously.

See, I don’t think I’m flirty. I just think I’m friendly.

Is it really flirting if the person doing it is completely unaware of it?

Maybe I’m misunderstood. Maybe my actions are just misconstrued.

My friend said, “a flower might be so focused on getting sunlight and water that it doesn’t realize that it’s attracting the bee… but it was doing exactly what it needed to do to get the bee interested.”

I’m not even sure what it is that I do that’s flirtatious. No one really explains that to me.

Well, recently someone did. Apparently, while intoxi-tipsy at my going-away party, I said and did some things that sober Angela would not do (and that I have NO recollection of doing). Things like telling someone he looked like a good kisser while holding his face in my hand. Yeah, I can see how that would be construed as flirting (seriously, WHY DID I DO THAT??? And why do I NOT REMEMBER that?).

Maybe that’s who am underneath everything, and it comes out from time to time. Like when under the influence of several nameless fruity alcoholic beverages that the bartender made up on the spot.

(Man, I’m embarrassed.)

Anyway. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, as one of my grad school resolutions is to not actively flirt with any of my schoolmates. But am I sending out signals that I'm not aware of?

Part of the potential problem is that I'm a huggy, cuddly sort of person. I crave physical contact. Generally, I try to warn people of that when I first meet them to gauge their comfort level. I did that with the TnT cast, and I did it again when I got down here. And everyone in my class seemed to be okay with it (and some of them, I was pleased to discover, are excellent huggers).

Recently, I was hugging a classmate goodbye as he left a party, and I did a sort of "full-body hug". Meaning that I lift my leg onto someone's hip as I hug them. I only do it with people I feel comfortable with, and I do it as sort of a silly gesture, almost like a physical joke. When I hugged him, he said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Leg." At first I thought he was joking, and it was just a playful reaction to my unconventional hugging style. But then he SHOVED my leg towards the ground and said, "Don't do that. Don't ever do that." I apologized quickly, somewhat bewildered at his reaction, as I've never gotten one like that before. He said, "Just remember your resolutions." (I informed some of my classmates about the existence of the list and some of the things on it, including the section about staying away from any sort of sexual or romantic gestures). I apologized several times as he left.

For the record, I was NOT trying to come onto him. He has a girlfriend, and even if he didn't, he's really not my style. He's solidly AGAG, which I think is why I felt that it was okay to hug him like that; I felt it was obvious that I didn't mean anything by it. Now I feel completely afraid to touch him (which isn't good, as we're part of the same theatrical ensemble).

So what do you think, readers? Is it possible for someone to flirt and not know it? Or is flirting only a conscious thing? Are people misconstruing my attempts at being friendly? And if so, is that my fault or theirs?


Whether friendly or flirty, may you be fun (and HAVE fun!).

~A~


ETA: "The Pro" mentioned that, because of my energy, he assumed I would always play "sexpot" characters. Which is funny, because I've never actually played one. I played the flirt once, but never the sexpot.