predestination

I'm reading a really good book about a guy who falls into another world or a parallel universe or something, and he has all sorts of adventures there. Its cool because the author can use the other world to explain things about it, and then because that world faces similar philosophical problems as this world, we can apply it to this world if we so choose. I liked this conversation the main character has with another character in the book, because it really made me think:

"Did I decide to do this, or was it preordained for me? If I was chosen before the beginning of the world, as you said..." The question trailed off. "Well, you know."

Ish smiled. "The Father, and I, and the Comforter alone exist outside of time, outside of the limitations of the framework we created for you to live in. We see the entire parade at once, as it were, from eternity to eternity, while you and those of the angelic and demonic realms are bound to a single, narrow vantage point. You must watch the parade as it passes. For us, there is no past or future. There is only 'now.'

"All choose the path they will take. Man chooses. The Dark chooses. The angels choose. All are responsible for the choices they make. Yet at the same time, the Father is utterly sovreign. All things were decreed by Him, in His good pleasure, before the beginning. Despite appearances to the contrary, free will in the creature and unlimited authority in the creator are not mutually exclusive. But your current frame of reference will not allow you to comprehend this.

"One day, you will better understand. But not now, not until you have been freed from your limitations. You see through a glass darkly. That which is possible for an infinitely dimensional God cannot be fully understood by one who is bound and limited by a four-dimensional existance."

"Four?"

"Time. Bound as such, you cannot grasp the necessary points of reference. It would be far simpler for a two-dimensional listener- constrained by two-dimensional concepts and hearing only two-dimensional terms- to grasp the concept of a sphere. What I can tell you is that all things and all events, even those of evil, are used by Us for good and for the carrying out of the Father's will.

"That is where trust comes in. And trust... simple trust... is faith."

email

Someone sent me this email. I'm wondering what everyone else thinks of it:

This is one of the best explanations of why God allows pain and suffering that I have seen. It's an explanation other people will understand.

A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects. When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber said: "I don't believe that God exists."

"Why do you say that?" asked the customer.

"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things."

The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and un-kept.

The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!"

"No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did,there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside."

"Ah, but barbers DO exist! What happens is, people do not come to me."

"Exactly!" affirmed the customer. "That's the point! God, too, DOES exist! What happens, is, people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there's so much pain and suffering in the world."


I KNOW God exists. But I've never been articulate about giving other people evidence for His existence. And seeing as how right now, I feel like my bones are going to explode because I have some sort of wierd flu thing, I can understand and relate to pain and suffering coexisting with God. But I always just figured that... God rules Heaven, where there's no pain and suffering. Satan rules Hell, where there is all pain and suffering. And Earth is just where the two overlap. So here, there are intensely beautiful things, and there is also pain and ugly things. I guess that goes along with something someone told me once. That for some people, Earth is as close as they'll ever get to being in Hell. And for other people, Earth is as close as they'll ever get to being in Heaven.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this. And the joints in my fingers are hurting so I'm gonna stop typing.

lovely...

Dave tried to kill my brother.

Ok well the real story is this. The youth group usually has an all-night shindig at the church on New Year's Eve. But, they decided that this year, they would forego that in favor of driving out to PA to go to an indoor waterpark (leave Monday, come back Tuesday). So they did. And they made it back to West Milford without a problem. Adam, the youth pastor, had just finished patting himself on the back that nothing went wrong. And then he turns around to see blood all over my brother's hands and head.

Apparently, Dave has bad taste in music, and tries to share the wealth with others. My brother made a comment because the same racket had been playing for the past half hour. Dave flicks my brother in the ear. Big deal. My brother tosses the discarded wristband from the water park, and it hit Dave in the face. For some reason, that justified hitting my brother in the back of the head with a shot glass, opening up a gash in his head that got blood all over both his hands, a Snapple bottle and Stephanie.

Dan: the first thing i thought was daves life is gonna end in 30 seconds, and the second thing i thought was drop anything that might be a weapon so i dont go to jail and the third thing was my head is bleeding, maybe i should go inside

So anyway, it got me thinking about that sermon that keeps popping up a lot lately in my life: the one on meekness. Adam gave a sermon once where he defined meekness. People think that meekness means being weak... I guess just because of the similarity in the way it sounds. Merriam Webster says meekness is "enduring injury with patience and without resentment." In Adam's sermon, he took it a step farther to say that meekness is power under control. You could totally beat someone up for something, but you choose not to. Or even just, you have the power to resent someone, but choose not to. Anyway, that ties into the stuff with Barb about sutemi. Being meek means you have to sacrifice something. You have to let go of something inside you in order for meekness to happen, like in sutemi.

The fact that these things keep popping up over the past few weeks says something to me. It says that maybe I have things I need to let go of. Maybe there's something inside of me, that I'm holding onto with all the strength I can muster, because letting go means falling through the air into nothing, like in a stime. Maybe there's something inside me that doesn't know that falling in a stime is really flying in disguise.

Anyway... coming from a big sister, I don't care about meekness. If Dave tries a stunt like that while I'm around I want him to regret it.

Christmas

OMG I think I gained 500 lbs!

And unfortunately, my extended family has never heard of vegetables. We had smoked duck, honey-glazed duck, smoked ham, scalloped potatoes, and some sort of radioactive pepto bismol gelatin mould. No veggies. I think a waldorf salad would have been good. But someone must have had a temporary mental glitch. No surprise, it being Christmas and all.

And it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. Apparently two of the cats died since I was there last, so I didn't have a horrible allergic reaction, despite the fact that their two male cats are huge and don't clean themselves so they have a lot of dander. Raven is 25 pounds of black huggable blubber (although he is quite muscular too). And Charlie (who has a Charlie Chaplin moustache) is probably about 20 pounds. It was very cool not to see them through itchy watery eyes.

My grandfather was generally the same, minus his girlfriend who lives in Albany.

My uncle from Vietnam didn't get too drunk and we had an intelligent conversation about how he got a cat as a wedding gift and he was allergic to it and eventually he gave it away and it walked in front of a truck. Anyway it was cool to have a conversation with him. And my aunt was (to use Barb's term) a little bit softer than usual. See, my Aunt Janette has always had a sort of "hard mind" and my Aunt Diane a "soft mind." (They are sisters, really close in age, and for the longest time I couldn't tell them apart.) Ever since their mother died, the gap in "hard mind/ soft mind" got bigger. But tonight, Janette was a little softer. Coulda been the whiskey sours. Aunt Marilyn, Uncle Ed, Uncle Pete were the same. Fun, smiling, generally happy people. Aunt Bobbie and Uncle Ted weren't there, neither were Aunt Janet and Uncle Bob, or the uncle in California I've met once and whose name I forgot.

And my cousins. Well. Ok well they were the same as always. Pete was not there, he's driving to Alberta Canada via the Grand Canyon to find himself and eventually learn massage therapy in Canada. Taryn showed up and pretended to be interested before going off with her fiancee who has three kids from another marriage. Which she always does. And Christina and Allison also pretended to be interested. Example:

Allison: Hey Dan, what year are you now?
My Brother: Senior
A: Wow what are you doing next year?
D: I don't know, I'm thinking about Stevens or Lehigh, they're both engineering schools.
A: Wow well you should definitely go visit all three of those.
Dan to me: I love how our cousins ask a question and then don't listen to the answer.

Rob and Chris and Kim wouldn't do that... they are actually related to us by blood and kind of care about their relations. But Rob's got a family in Maryland and Chris has a closet apartment in DC and can't leave. And Kimmy's in England or Georgia or somewhere far away. So they weren't there tonight. And that's about it on the Christmas update. Notice how I talked about food first, then cats, then family. I love priorities.

Speaking of which... I'll throw you all for a loop and put gifts in here. You can all wonder whether I saved the best for last or just am really non-materialistic. I got three Lord of the Rings calendars hahaha. I wonder if that says anything about me. And I got a card to Build-a-Bear workshop. Hehehe. I looked online. They have martial arts clothing for the bears. That makes me happy. And Anissa's bread and coasters from Steve. Anyway... I got some other little nick-knacks but not much because I got my down-comforter Christmas gift a month early.

Overall... It was generally a better Christmas than most. That and people kept calling me while I was at my Aunt's house, which was a nice and pleasant interruption. I'm loved and I know it and that makes me happier than a 25 pound cat in a house full of duck and ham.

link

Ok so Merry Christmas everyone! I went to the Christmas Eve service, and Jordan and Rick sang/played Little Drummer Boy, and they did a better job than Jars of Clay, which is a huge compliment because Jars of Clay is one of my favorite bands, and I love their version of Little Drummer Boy. I'm so proud of my big brothers, I had this huge stupid grin on my face while they were singing, haha.

Anyway, some stuff happened too. I'll brush it off. Those that need to know will know. And I came back, wrapped gifts, and now I have a headache/shoulder ache, so I should sleep and hope the sleep makes my muscles relax.

But before I do, I have to post this. I was looking for a different link but came across this one. My brother and I laughed sooo hard.

Merry Christmas everyone! (Sorry, no PC-ness from me tonight. Even if you don't celebrate Christmas, that's what day it is, and I hope yours is merry. Feel free to wish me a merry day on any other day of the year of your choosing.)

general update...

So, the general consensus from the two people who responded to my last entry (yes generalizations can be gathered from two people) is that I was too hard on myself about the jujitsu stuff. And umm... I guess so. It didn't feel too hard, because I've been harder on myself before.

Anyway, I'm home today. I'm glad to be home. I'm glad to be with the people I love. But... I feel different now. I love coming home so I can talk to my brother. I love coming home so my family can joke around together. But... I've said this before. I may be or have already outgrown my friends here. Not that I don't love them, or that I don't like seeing them again. But I went to hang out with some of them today... and I felt like... I don't feel that sense of belonging. I've changed, and when I'm with them, I go back to being the old me. Does it make sense to say that I don't like who I am when I'm with them, and still say it without saying anything bad about them?

I might feel differently later on. But, I'm kind of in a strange mood tonight. There was a string of stuff that happened that brought back old memories. I don't know if that's good or bad. The memories here, from tonight especially, are different from my memories of New Brunswick. In NB, there are memories I have that I treasure, and wish I could experience all over again, just for the sake of the experience (even the bad ones, I'd do it all over again). The memories I had tonight left me feeling like I've made a huge mistake in my life. Maybe the difference is that my memories of NB are still capable of happening again, while the things I thought about tonight are over with a finality that can't be undone. Honestly though... I like the person RU and NB have shaped me into. I feel so much more comfortable just being myself. When I'm here, I have to be who I used to be. Which makes me feel uncomfortable. Its also annoying not being able to express my true feelings about my memories 'cause of the people that read this.

Couple that with Jujitsu on Thursday... and explore the muscle knots in my body. I decided I should have asked for a massage for Christmas. Back, neck, lower back, hands, feet... that would be heavenly.

Anyway... I'm tired. I think I'm gonna go post a private xanga entry so I can vent without making people annoyed at me. Gnight

Yet another entry...

ahhh...

I've had a long day. Ackkkk.... I'm such a good actress... But I can't hide it from Molly. And she can't help me cause she isn't big enough. She can only sit in my lap.

I did something stupid today. I allowed myself to think while I was baking cookies for two hours. Two whole hours by myself to think. That's... more than I've had at once all semester. And I reacted to it. My spirit went haywire. So when I got to jujitsu, which we were doing in a large room, my spirit scattered to all the corners of the room and left me with no center. I was not balanced, not able to keep myself from hurting myself (not just physically), and unable to gather it all back in. I think... possibly, it wouldn't have been so bad if we had done jujitsu in the smaller rooms in the basement. The walls are farther in, there's less distance to travel, and easier for me to pull myself together. But we were in the big room. I couldn't pull myself together. I wasted Andrew's time teaching me and Jess's time working with me.

Last week, several people asked me when I was going to test for gokyu (the next rank). I jokingly said, when my body stops falling apart. But now I think I know the reason why I'm not ready to test yet. I haven't learned how to keep my emotions from affecting my technique. There's a certain way to do each technique, and I can't seem to get my body to do it the same way each time. I have to be in a certain emotional groove in order for my body memory to kick in. Yes, I know each technique. Yes, I have done each technique at one time or another that would probably be passable in a test. But to do it reliably, and to do it reliably no matter what state of mind I'm in, I can't do that. And even if people think I'm ready to test, I'm not sure I want to move on to more complicated moves if I can't reach with my spirit to the corners of a room and gather myself back into my center. And in a sense, that makes my original statement true. The reason my body keeps "falling apart" as I put it, is because I either can't or haven't been holding onto all of me at once. Because of this, I get death by a thousand bee stings when I go to jujitsu. No guillotine injuries except for that one in May, but a hundred little things happening at once, which is why I sometimes feel like I'm falling apart.

This whole thing about my spirit seems a little weird, and I don't know how to describe it other than the way that I have. But... does anyone else ever feel like that? Does anyone besides me know what I'm talking about?

Oh... yeah... about that part in the beginning. Well... I'm a little better now. Emma's got someone to cuddle with tonight, and Mel has someone to cuddle with tonight. Sarah's not here, and I have Molly. And she's small, yes. But she has a big heart. And it will have to suffice. My other option is Micheal, my blind teddy bear. But he can't see my face, and Molly can. She understands it.

Goodnight.

breakfast

I cut myself a slice of Anissa's bread for breakfast... Being lazy, I used the same really big bread knife to cut myself a slice of butter. On the way down, the knife accidentally cut off the bottom 2 inches of my banana. So, I had the unique experience of eating my banana upside down today. And then right side up. It made me happy.

sigh...

I'm posting so many new entries lately. I'm kinda struggling. I want to pour stuff out here. But there's something holding me back and I can't... I don't know how to say what I want to say. So I log in to blogger, and then I distract myself with other things so that I don't have to say what's inside.

"Take me to that place where we're children again, and we crawl on the lap of the Peace Child. Take me the land where love is discovered with the Prince undercover as the Peace Child. And the poor can now see how a king can believe in a kindgom that cradles the broken. O come O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel from lonely exile here until the Son of God appears. We look to be upright as we grasp for a chance but we're too dirty to dance with the Peace Child. But the sense... and its ... like the blood of the babe of the Peace Child. And the dead can now sing at the throne of the King 'cause heaven is full of us peasants."

That's a little bit somber though. I need a cheer up.

Twas the night before Christmas, and up at the North Pole, everybody's going crazy; everything's out of control. The toy shop is on fire, the toys melting on the shelves, and you can hear Mrs. Claus scream, "One can never trust those elves!"

Chorus: Unless something drastic happens fast, say hello to the ghost of Christmas past because, mistletoe and boughs of holly! Old Saint Nick ain’t all that jolly. And the sleigh’s in the shop ‘cause it’s broken down, but Christmas won’t stop ‘Cause Santa Claus is thumbing to town (uh-oh!) Santa Claus is thumbing to town (uh-oh!) Santa Claus is thumbing to town (uh-oh!) Santa Claus is thumbing to town (uh-oh!) Very much to his disliking, Santa spends all night hitch-hiking. With a sign that reads, "Ho ho slow down," Santa Claus is thumbing to town.

Every car just drove right past him and sped right out of sight. Santa never got to ask them to drive around the world in just one night. So Kris Kringle started walkin’ through the snow without his sleigh, shed a tear for every stocking that would be empty Christmas day.

Chorus...

Ok, I feel better. I was nicely distracted.

OMG

The NJ Department of Transportation's (NJDOT) construction activities for phase two of the New Brunswick-area Route 18 reconstruction project are scheduled to begin the week of January 23. As a result, the Rutgers community will experience an impact on daily travel through the area.

This phase includes the closing of the New Street ramp and the Commercial Avenue jug handle off Route 18 northbound for at least 10 months. When this work begins, you should anticipate delays resulting from traffic pattern changes and possible lane closures. You should plan extra traveling time.

WHAT? You may as well close the school. And while you're at it, why not Johnson & Johnson too? Or better yet, broadcast the classes on the radio so that while we're sitting, parked, on the highway, 40 minutes late for class, we still have a fighting chance? Oh wait... I don't have to worry about this. I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE SEMESTER... EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

I applied for my diploma yesterday. Good luck to all of you who aren't leaving.

quick observation

From 10-ish, Monday morning, until midnight on Thursday, I will probably have been more productive in those four days than I was all semester. Why is it that deadlines like Christmas and finals are such good motivators?

yummy

Brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things...

My breakfast this morning was delicious!!

jujitsu thoughts....

First things first:

Dear Meghan,

I am writing to inform you that the Rutgers College Scholarship Committee has chosen you to receive a Rutgers College Academic Excellence Award in the amount of $750.00 for the 2005-2006 academic year. We are pleased to award you this Academic Excellence Award in recognition of your distinguished academic record and your service to the Rutgers College community. Congratulations.

!!!!!! eeee! Wow. I didn't think I'd get it. Awesome.

Ok, the other thing i was going to write about was jujitsu. Barb opened by saying that one of the black belts (a former student, one I'd never met) passed away. But the way she described it was really interesting. It kind of hit me in the stomach. In jujitsu, we have something called sutemi. It involves letting go of everything that makes sense so that you can accomplish what you want to accomplish. For example, X is attacking Y. Y allows X to throw him because being thrown that way puts Y in a better position to come out on top. Its making a small sacrifice for a greater goal. Anyway, Barb described the death of this black belt as the ultimate sutemi, because she didn't just slip into a coma and hang on to her life with just the kidney functioning and nothing else, like a lot of people do. She wasn't afraid to just let go. Not that she chose when to die, but when the time came, she didn't fight it.

And that really just sort of hit me. Because I knew that you could apply jujitsu to other areas of life, but when I heard that, it was sort of like, "Is my life a sutemi?" What am I doing in my life that might apply to jujitsu? Is there anything I'm holding onto, that maybe I shouldn't be? And then, right after that, I had to lead the warm ups, and I've always been kind of nervous about doing the stimes (aerial flips, landing in a sidefall position), but today I just sort of let go and went with it, and even though I still landed crooked like always, I think there was less emotional struggle in doing it. And it was really cool to just kind of... let go. Its like flying. I've always thought the stimes and throws were like flying, but today when I did the stime, it was more mentally flying. It was still scary, but it was a stretch, to just say, "scary isn't bad."

The other thing I thought was interesting in jujitsu was Barb doing more of the psychological aspect of jujitsu. It was stuff they said she taught in black belt class. About how, "yes the technique is important, but if you think about doing it and set your mind to it, you can do the technique by barely moving at all." She said there's a difference between hard thought and soft thought If you try to have a "hard mind" when you do a technique, your attacker wants to fight it. If you have a "soft mind," uke doesn't know what's coming. It took a couple of tries, but really, there is such a tiny difference between hard and soft thought. No big movements or anything, just think about a smile, which will soften everything, and then suddenly, your attacker is on the ground and you're on his carotid. Its surprising.

I'm thinking that when I get back to work on my prompt book that's due tomorrow, I will have a soft thought, and maybe that way I'll get so lost in thinking about smiles that all of a sudden I will find myself choking it out. That would please me greatly. Or burning it. With lightning bolts out of my eyes. I wonder if Barb can teach that.

hmm

So... today is the 17th. I came home yesterday to discover that my family does not yet have a Christmas tree or any Christmas decorations. We picked a tree up yesterday, but we never kill the tree, so we buy them with the roots on and in the spring we plant them in the yard. Which means we need to give it special treatment. Which is, a day in our yard to acclimate it to the air around our house. Then generally a week on our porch, to wean it into the house, where it will think its spring. Then after Christmas we have to wean it back outside so it won't go into shock and die. Do the math... if we keep the tree on the porch for a week, we'll be decorating it on Christmas Eve.

So I'm kind of starved for Christmas cheer. When I chose to do the White Witch of Narnia for my makeup class, I didn't actually intend for it to be always winter and never Christmas. And in New Brunswick, we don't have a tree or decorations because Christmas there is actually "ChristmaChanuKwanzakkah" and last time I was home I forgot my Christmas music. So I have been feeling like I'm gonna shrivel up and die soon. 'Cause I thrive on Christmas music all through October, Novermber, and December, and so its REALLY late in the year for me to start listening to Christmas music.

So yeah... I got the decorations out and put some of them up. Instead of doing my final project. And then I cooked an appetizer for the party tonight since Mom wasn't home and no one else would do it. I'm sure my dad would have if I asked, but when he does things in the kitchen he always looks like a fish on dry land. He's never quite sure what to do with himself. And of course my brother wouldn't. "If you make me do it, you'll get bread in a pan." I wanted the appetizer to be somewhat edible tonight, so I did it.

I'm kinda annoyed right now with my brother, but of course he's only a senior in high school. He can't be expected to know how to put anything in a pan and bake it at 350 for 8 minutes. He can't be expected to know how to chop carrots and broccoli in a blender. He can't be expected to know how to STIR a dip mix. That's FARRRR too complicated for his high school brain. And he won't help decorate the house because that's my job every year, and because he doesn't want Christmas decorations up. (Translation: I want to sit in my room on my computer gloating because its the only one in the house that works, and I want to play computer games all day.)

Anyway. I've now counteracted the White Witch syndrome hanging over the house. Now to do something about Scrooge in his bedroom. *roll up newspaper* *smack*

titanic

I was just thinking about the movie Titanic. I have issues with Leonardo DiCaprio... but the movie itself is pretty good. I was thinking about how, even though it took place in 1912 (I think), people today can still relate. Young people are still embarking on hot summer romances (sometimes forbidden) that can be life-changing. It doesn't even have to be in the summer. Anyway it wasn't for Jack and Rose. It was April. But the end of the movie is still a puzzle to me. Maybe, 60 years from now, I can revisit that movie and examine the ending. I realize people on their deathbeds re-live some of their cherished moments. But, Rose had a family, children, life experiences. Of all the things she could have gone back to, her hot summer romance was the most cherished and life changing for her. I wonder... What will be my most cherished memory? What will I think about on my deathbed?

Sorry for being morbid, guys. It didn't come out right at all. The thoughts I was having were beautiful, but for some reason it just didn't come through my fingers as I typed.

dhaval

Dhaval sent me an email thing. If he sent it to you, don't read this until you try it. Actually, here. I'll post it.

Follow these instructions. Get a piece of paper and a pen. Answer everything with the FIRST thing that pops into your mind. Do these in order without looking ahead. When you choose names, make sure its people you actually know.

1. First, write the numbers 1 through 11 in a column.










2. Then, beside numbers 1 and 2, write down any two numbers you want.









3. Beside the 3 and 7, write down the names of members of the opposite sex.










*NO LOOKING AHEAD...OR IT WON"T TURN OUT RIGHT! *










4. Write anyone's name (like friends or family....) in the 4th, 5th, and 6th spots.










5. Write down four song titles in 8,9,10, and 11.
*GO WITH YOUR INSTINCT PEOPLE!!!! *










AND NOW...

1. You must tell (the number in space 2) people about this game.
2. The person in space 3 is the one that you love.
3. The person in 7 is one you like but can't work out.
4. You care most about the person you put in 4.
5. The person you name in number 5 is the one who knows you very well.
6. The person you name in 6 is your lucky star.
7. The song in 8 is the song that matches with the person in number 3.
8. The title in 9 is the song for the person in 7.
9. The tenth space is the song that tells you most about YOUR mind.
10. and 11 is the song telling you how you feel about life

It was about 70% right for me, 40% right for Anissa. So, it won't always work. But I think its interesting. Probably invented by a psychology major or something.

Anyway, here are some interesting things I discovered:
The person I love: Sam. He just so happened to be the last person whose away message I read before doing this. Not that I don't love him. But I don't lovelove him.

The song that describes him: All I want for Christmas. ROFL... that's about on par with Anissa's answer: she picked Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

The person I care most about: My brother
The person who knows me very well: Mom
The song that tells me the most about my mind: Dream Big
The song that tells me how I feel about life: ANOTHER IRISH DRINKING SONG!!

Wooo Hoooo!

"We’ll drink and drink and drink and drink, and then we’ll drink some more We’ll dance and sing and fight until the early morning light Then we’ll throw up, pass out, wake up, and then go drinking once again"

ok

So my away message said:

"Oh, ho, the mistletoe
hung where you can see;
Somebody waits for you;
Kiss him once for me.

more on this in my blog tomorrow. but that's not a promise. that's conditional."

Soo... I told you all I'd write about it, so I will. I'm not exactly sure what to write now.

Anyway... I was thinking about that song last week. 'Cause... I sorta miss physical contact. I mean yeah, I can be close to all sorts of people (savory and unsavory) while doing weird things like Juji Gatame on each other. But...

I've seen mistletoe hung in a doorway once in my 21 years. I guess that means the chances are 1/20 that I will see mistletoe hung in a doorway this year (my 21st christmas). And I guess if I add to that the chances that a guy would stand still in a doorway instead of sitting down somewhere comfortable, and the chances that it would be the same doorway that has the mistletoe, and the chances that I would be in proximity to the doorway at the same time...

I guess it means that song is pretty special if you really think about it. The odds are very much against it happening without intelligent thought coming in to change the odds. Keep in mind that not all guys posess intelligent thought either. OOHhh... that was wrong. Certainly no one I know is unintelligent. Umm yeah. Exactly.

Ok enough of that. I'm not really getting anywhere productive with this blog so... ok. Bye.

director's scenes

First, I just have to say... the itch started 4 weeks ago today. And I'm still scratching. And still... I will still swear by Zheng Gu Shui. When I'm in pain, I will still use it.

Anyway... director's scenes were tonight. I met with my actors, we rehearsed in the hall, they were flawless. I was so happy. Then they went on stage. Here's a little clip from the script:

Andrew: Man, I'm freezing.
Leah: Button your coat.
A: See? Without you, I'm helpless.
L: Helpless as a shark.
A: That's not very nice.

Here's what happened on stage:

A: Man, I'm freezing.
L: Sure wish I had my gloves.
(Pause)
A: Let's go somewhere warm and talk it over.

I'm backstage going:

M: Gloves? That's not in the script. What's happening?

I run out into the hallway to grab my script. I get back just in time to watch them completely cut out a page, and then jump all over what's left of the script. The playwright totally would have had an aneurism if he'd been there. But they finished the scene. It made sense. The audience applauded, and people told me they liked it. Aside from the mild heart attack, I'm happy. And I'm proud of them. And they came off the stage apologizing profusely and by that time I just stopped them and said, "No." They were fine. Improvisational. But fine. And now, we've all got a good laugh for our grandkids.

None of my friends came to see it (outside of the friends in my class) but I'm okay with that. They didn't have to see me tightly wound up like I was, they didn't have to see my almost heart attack, and they didn't have to see the play that... that... what about the play? Emmm... Well, I don't know. The play had some personal things in it. Half of me is glad that an anonymous audience got to see it. If my friends had been there, I think they would have read too much into it. Anyway, now I have a paper to finish up and then- ONLY ONE MORE PROJECT LEFT!! YIIHEEE!!!

Well... that and Christmas gifts. I made Steve a Christmas gift. But I don't like how it turned out. I'm gonna scrap it and come up with something better. So that means I have 6 more personal gifts to get. And then something general for the jujitsu club, I don't know, cookies or something. Oh and my dad. Does anyone have gift ideas for dads? Anyway, I'm off to go be productive. Bye.

PS

My new favorite candybar is Hershey's Take 5. I've never heard of it before yesterday, but its amazing. Peanuts, Peanutbutter, Caramel, Pretzels, Chocolate. Perfect for the girl who can't make up her mind.

ramble....

So... yesterday I missed the strike for the Jameson show and had a minor heart attack when I realized that. Just... totally forgot about it. So if anyone noticed, my grade goes down a letter. But I don't care anymore. And anyway, no one noticed. I could have been stuck in a snowbank freezing to death and no one thought to call.

So the evaluations for that class were today. And I RIPPED that class apart. I gave credit where it was due... I had some really good people that I worked with on the first show. But the second show... I spoke my mind. And I ended it with the names of 3 BFA students that have the distinction of being the only 3 non-snotty BFA's that I have had the privelege to work with. I said, "Attitude is everything. In my activities outside my theater major (I was thinking of jujitsu), if one does not have a proper and mature attitude, they will fail to advance, and I feel that a theater program should better prepare students for life outside the theater." But what I wanted to say was... "NORMAL, WELL-BALANCED PEOPLE DON'T ACT LIKE THESE BFAS!!" However, I did say elsewhere that my stage managers were diva princesses. And other things. I still ripped into it, even though that part was somewhat sugar-coated.

And I was back at jujitsu today, for the first time since forever. Sam and Dhaval were promoted last week, so they got to throw me. Dhaval had a huge grin on his face. Its awesome, I'm so proud of them. And Andrew. He owes me a throw now. My workout was really good. I thought, anyway. I feel like September and October, my skills kind of went downhill, and the more I practiced the worse I got. But then I came less, and had more on my plate such as 3 different shows, and my technique started getting better, when I even went to jujitsu. I almost feel like, the more baggage I have to leave at the door when I get on the mat, the better the workout will be because I will be more focused on not letting that crap come in with me. One of the best workouts I've had was on a day where I spent several hours crying. Just that exhausted me, then I went and worked out the knots in my heart on the mat, and I was so focused that my technique had no choice but to be better. I guess I'm like that a lot. When I'm upset, or stressed, or whatever emotionally, I have to do something physical. Run 2 miles. Or build a rock wall. Or climb a rock wall. Or throw people around and put them in dangerous positions of joint manipulation while choking their carotid arteries. I'm not saying I'm exactly upset right now. But I do have a lot of baggage to leave at the door... and as strange as this sounds, the less "right" my life is sometimes leads to the most "right" my technique is. Its interesting.

On another note. Congratulations to Emily, Elijah, and Ashni who won't read this blog at all but they're kids from the jujitsu kids club who tested tonight for their junior rank of orange belt. And to Other Kid Who I Never Met who tested for another stripe. Anyway... kid's class is a lot of fun, its awesome and I love it.

Final note: I'm tired. G'night.

EDIT: "Oberonious: OTHER KID's name is Martin."
Thanks Steve!

second-to-last-day-of-class thoughts

Dear Paulette:

I wanted to thank you for your class. I will be brutally honest... I hated it. But the reason I hated it was because it was the class I needed the most this semester, and it was the one that forced me to grow and step outside of my comfort zone.

I had a rough semester. I had been looking forward to it because I had all theater classes, plus this modern dance class. I had thought it would be a really fun semester. What actually happened though was that theater classes take up more time than a normal class, and they began to compete with each other for my time, and for most of the semester, I was getting below-appropriate amounts of sleep. Which is why I always came to class either late or looking like I was drugged on something. I didn't understand why we had to pretend we were starfish, or stretching dogs, or any of the other strange analogies you used. I thought, "this is a dance class, why can't we just dance?" As the semester continued, three different plays (two of them required, one of them a REALLY good idea for a resume) began to take up my time, to the point where I was backstage so often that I had no time to buy the vegetables and proteins I knew my body needed. My muscles and joints rebelled, as they really had a right to do, which made me groan a lot in the dance classes (as well as in jujitsu). One day, I even came to class with my eyes red and puffy because I'd spent the hour before crying. Luckily, we watched a video that day, otherwise I'm not sure I would have made it through the class.

But despite the groaning, I did a lot of growing too. I discovered that if you don't give 100% of yourself to anything you do, it isn't worth it. I found that if I focused my mind completely on the dance class, I stopped hurting, I stopped feeling dizzy, I stopped feeling lethargic. I began to apply that to other areas of my life. They've always said similar things in jujitsu, but I had stopped trying to follow that, so my techniques really went downhill. The day I focused 100% of my energy on jujitsu was one of the best workouts I had all semester. Despite not liking the shows I was required to work on, I thought about the endurance and perseverance I learned from your class and the shows stopped feeling like such a nuisance and waste of time.

Originally, I had no intentions of taking another modern dance class, but now that the class is over, I feel like I have been sufficiently prepared, that even if modern 2 is difficult, I now know how to persevere and overcome, should I manage to fit it into my schedule. I am grateful that the class is over, because I hope it means I've taken from it as much as I could absorb and am now ready to continue looking up and moving on.

Finally, I wanted to thank you for the patience it must have taken to work with a lethargic student who sometimes didn't care about starfish and mollusks and dogs.

Sincerely,
~~~~~~

Ok there it is... should I send it?

On another note... I've been comparing modern dance with jujitsu a lot lately. To top things off, Paulette had us grappling today. Or at least a modern dance version of grappling. How interesting.

Anyhow... any comments?

how am i today?

arwenundomiel9: in my sleep deprived state, at 8:50 this morning i got out of bed, turned off my alarm, got back in bed, pulled the covers over me, and fell asleep. i have nooo recollection of it whatsoever
arwenundomiel9: i've been going on average 5 hours of sleep for the past 3 or 4 weeks... so it doesn't surprise me. but i missed my class and freaked out when i woke up... but then discovered the teacher had cancelled class lol
CyViR: oh wow!
CyViR: haha you guys are all so lucky. you, my friend andrew in CA, and Anissa, seem to keep on missing canceled clases
CyViR: though anissa tends to miss more than her fair share though:P

And I just ate shredded coconut, almonds, rice crispies, a banana, and lots of chocolate for breakfast. Not on purpose. Just 'cause they were there. But then I discovered this:

http://www.wholehealthmd.com/hk/remedies/disp/1,1459,502,00.html

So now I know why.

And now I am going back to bed, where I will massage the calcaneal tendon and gastrocnemius and soleus

I'm a muffin

SOOPER CHOCOLATE

You are a chocolate chocolate chip truffle muffin with a ribbon of nauseatingly rich fudge baked in caramel! With frosting and sprinkles! Oooh, sprinkes. A cherry on top as well! A candle and sparkler! What does this mean? You are probably filled with happy energy and have the power to make everyone around you scream with unnatural euphoria for hours on end. This is not a good thing. You have an 87% chance of dying due to autoerotic asphyxiation.

Riiiiighttt... Time for me to go to bed. I have better things to do.

shameless advertisement

Hey everyone. I'm in a directing class and my final project is to direct a ten-minute scene. My actors will be performing it Wednesday, December 14th, at 6:00 pm. I would suggest being a half hour early because seating is extremely limited. It is in Levin A, a small theater space above the Mason Gross Levin Theater. To get there, enter the Levin Theater lobby, go up the stairs, and make a right. At another set of 4 or so stairs, there will be a door on the left. That's the little theater. You can't miss it because there will probably be actors all around the hallway there. Anyway. That's my shameless plug.

fantasy

Last night, I saw The Lion The Witch And The Wardrobe. It was impressive. They stuck to the book very nicely I thought and did a very good job. You all know how much I like Lord of the Rings. Well, I only read them about 3 months before Fellowship came out. But Narnia is bigger and dearer to my heart, because I was first introduced to them in 4th grade, and I basically grew up with Aslan. I've even met Aslan in my dreams. Well, I think. I've met a great, magical lion. I don't know if it was Aslan, because no one ever addressed him in my dream. But he talked, and the way he talked, you KNEW he was powerful. But I don't think he had the voice of Liam Neeson hahaha.

Anyway, because the movie got out and I was supposed to volunteer for The Big Chill (5K race) 6 hours later, I stayed over at Anissa's so we could leave together. As I was about to drift to sleep, I thought, "I wonder if my dreams will take me to Narnia tonight. I would like that." Y'know that time between waking and sleeping? I was there, and I saw an image of a lion. But as soon as the image materialized in my mind, it evolved into something else. So I only had split seconds to recognize the creatures. I think I saw Gollum, and a griffin, and hideous creatures, and beautiful ones, and some that I've never seen before and had no name for. A lot of them were mythical/magical creatures, but some were natural, like horses or something.

There was a witch (I'm not entirely convinced it was the White Witch of Narnia) and she came into the midst of the creatures, who by now were mostly normal earth-creatures. although there were some others too, like centaurs. We were standing on a frozen lake. She had placed underwater depth charges in strategic places under the ice. As they went off they shone bright blue/green through the ice. It was in a circle, surrounding us. And then suddenly, a shaft of light came up from the ice in a circle, like a force field or something, keeping us from leaving. The sun was out but I realized that everything inside the circle was an optical illusion because in actuality, there was nothing inside the circle. I walked over to either a horse or a centaur, and I touched its skin. Even in places where there was shadow, the sun was burning it, because the shadow was only an illusion. In actuality, the sun was burning our skin. There was a sort of blue haze, as if from a tanning bed, but lighter. The animals had inspiration and we figured out how to break the spell and escape but I can't remember what we did. Then Anissa's alarm went off.

more on me

Today is a little better. I don't want to complain about the cold but... its REALLY cold. I'm thinking about rearranging my room so that the bed is by the heater. One of my windows doesn't lock, and every time a Rutgers bus passes my window, it slips down a bit and opens from the top. The cold is making my wrists and the fleshy part of my thumb ache. And for some reason I can't seem to move my right leg without physically lifting it with my hands. I don't know what I did, because I haven't been to jujitsu in a while and I haven't really done a whole lot of strenuous activity except for existing as a student at Rutgers, which is strenuous enough. Anyway, I think its time to rearrange my room, since I have a little free time right now. But I wanted to say hot chocolate, good friends, aim chats at 4 am, and hot tears are very good medicine. I feel ok today.

my day

I haven't had a very good day. Well, I have. But I haven't. It started with a dream this morning that made me wake up feeling really sad. I got up and went to do my makeup final project, which was fun. But I wasn't exactly in the mood to go through the hassle of cleaning all that crap off. I haven't showered yet, so I still feel kinda gross. (It was the white witch of narnia, so I went all out. Hair spray, makeup, glitter, the works.) And then I went to the show. And the backstage drama was up. And I'm sick of it. I hate this show, and I can't wait until Tuesday when I can fill out evaluations and voice my opinions about the absurdity of allowing students to give grades to their peers (allowing politics into the picture) and the absurdity of allowing student stage managers and directors and others to waste everyone's time. I've worked on a Jameson show before so I know that it IS in fact possible to do it, have a great team, enjoy ourselves, and run it without wasting time.

So, I left the theater and listened to my voicemail, where I heard a message from Anissa telling me that she would come steal me from the theater if I was willing because there was going to be a very important promotion at jujitsu tonight. She didn't say the name, but I knew right away it was Andrew, because I've been looking forward to this promotion since October and I'm REALLY upset that the Jameson show wasn't even worth missing it for. I am so fed up with the show that I would have walked out, regardless of the fact that I'm being graded by BFA students who think they are better than me. Honestly I no longer care about the grade. But lucky for them, I had turned my phone off to save the battery (Jameson is a basement, so the phone is constantly looking for a signal while I'm there) and so I didn't get the message until I was on the bus, headed for College Ave. At which point, my face crumpled up, and I'm sure if anyone was watching me listen to my messages, they would have thought the message was about the death of a family member or something. It was sort of the straw that broke the camel's back, so with the stress of the past few weeks and my body not too great (I have several sore muscles), I sat with everyone in jujitsu, and was struggling to hold in the tears. I didn't want it to rain on Andrew's big night, so I thought perhaps I should just go home.

But anyway, I'm really proud of Andrew, who is now a black belt. Super-mega congratulations!

And then, because Anissa could see me struggling, she invited me over to her place for hot chocolate and Steve came too, and it was amazing. She put almond extract, vanilla extract, and cayenne pepper in it, and it was soooo good.

And now that I'm home, and have had a good decent cry, and have spilled everything, and have congratulated Andrew, I might be ready for a shower and bed. Goodnight all.

sigh

I'm disappointed in someone. I thought they were better than that. So I'm down right now. But I've had a happy day in general.

sigh

its almost 5. i just finished my theater makeup project preparations for tomorrow. honestly, i could have gone to bed hours ago. but i sort of relish the time i get to think. to be real with myself and not push my feelings aside in favor of schoolwork. at the same time, its killing me. i want to go to bed to escape it. and at the same time i want to stay up and distracted so i won't think. even though i want to. that sounds strange. it is. its because i'm an oxymoron. oh well... here's to fancy distractions that i can't figure out.

haven't posted in a while

i haven't said anything about myself lately, but i'm in a rush so i'm going with no punctuation, probably not correcting grammar either lol. anyway, i'm doing a jameson show. i dislike it, but it gives me tons of time to do interesting things like sew garland onto my coat for my theater makeup project.

congratulations to sam and dhaval for passing their gokyu exams. i'm proud of you guys, and i think you're awesome. my time will come soon... i think haha.

i am in love with bubble tea.

i have to go draw a picture of the white witch of narnia for theater makeup class. i love doing homework where i don't have to learn anything!

one more story

Sam told me to try and enjoy myself while doing the show. Make the best of it... all that good advice. I agree, its just hard sometimes. So today, I amused myself with fiction:

You die. You find yourself outside the pearly gates with a mass of other people. You are amazed at the numbers but even more amazed at the efficiency of the system set up for handling all the newcomers. You see 26 tables with a saint behind each, checking names in large books. Each table is labelled with a letter of the alphabet so you get in the one that matches your name. You're not too worried but wonder how they can fit all these people in Heaven. Do the inns ever run out of room? The guy in front of you is accepted in. Finally its your turn, and Saint Peter says, "I'm sorry, I don't see your name in here. Spell it for me?" You do. He says, "Still nothing. Tell me about yourself." You tell him you are a theater major in a liberal arts college. He says, "Ok, well, there might be some mistake. I'll send you to Saint Marshall; he's the saint in charge of BA theater majors. He's kinda tough; be prepared to listen to your requirements for admission into Heaven, and about what you see yourself accomplishing here in the next 5 years."

You find yourself standing in front of Saint Marshall, who also can't find you in his big book. "Well, I'm goind to send you to Saint Carol; she's the saint in charge of admissions. Prepare a monologue in case she wants you to audition to get in."

You go to Saint Carol, and she can't find you in her book. She also tries to convince you that maybe Heaven isn't the right program for you. Your skills and goals might best be used elsewhere. "I'm gonna go ahead and mark you down as not accepted." She's a saint, you can't tell her she should talk to God about that before making His decisions for Him.

Disappointed, you turn your face down there, and come face to face with the devil. "Haha, you're with me? Great! I have just the program for you! We're currently testing a new form of torture. I'm going to assign you to 10 days in the Jameson Project."

i remembered!

For a while now, I'll think of something I wanted to put up here, and then I would forget ten seconds later. When I actually made my way to my computer, I couldn't remember what it was. I finally remembered while in front of the computer.

Oberonious: ....
Auto response from arwenundomiel9: crying myself to sleep
Oberonious: Oh Meg... why?
Oberonious: Eh?
Auto response from arwenundomiel9: *growl!*
Oberonious: Now you've got a game face on?
Oberonious: Such mood swings.
arwenundomiel9: no... its not a sexy growl. Its a "i want to kill someone growl"
Oberonious: Yeah, that's what I meant by "game face"... like you're serious about something.
Oberonious: What's with the cryptic away messages? are the crying and killing related?
Oberonious: theater stuff?
arwenundomiel9: yes theater stuff...

Strangely, a few hours after that conversation, I was at the theater. I went up the stairs to get my water bottle, and my former director was sitting in the audience waiting for everyone to get their acts together. One of the actors was sitting there too. Will said, "Are you ok?" And I just kind of looked at him puzzled because at the time, I was mostly ok, just thirsty. But he said, "you look like you want to kill someone." And the actor, Doug, said "yeah, I was just thinking to myself, she does not look happy." I had a ton of things I could have said but my stage managers (PEERS who get to give me my grade and think they are princesses) were nearby, so actress that I am, I said I had just woken up and was still pretty tired. Which I was. But it was also other things I probably shouldn't have said anyway.

But I thought that was interesting that I could put on my face exactly what I was thinking without realizing it. I guess I'm easy to read.

sequel

I don't have the time for this, but its stirring again.

The Person stood in front of the door, waiting. All his life, he'd been waiting. He'd been waiting so long, it seemed time no longer existed, because he took no notice of it. It did not matter because time would continue to pass. As usual, he knocked again. As usual, he heard no response. He sighed. And knocked again.

He heard a thump behind the door, as he had so many times before. He heard footfalls, people laughing. He heard a baby cry and a dog bark and a glass shatter. Life was going on without him. True, there was life here, with him, on this side of the door, and he loved it. But it was his heart's desire to open the door. To unite the two sides. Ever since... well... he didn't know how long ago it was, because it was such a very long time. But someone had closed the door.

And the closing of this door had left him separated from people he loved. He loved the people on this side too. But every day, every night, he daydreamed of the day the door opened. He thought and planned and acted and knocked. Always knocking. Always monotonous. But always worth it. They'll hear me one day. One day, the door will open.

But one day, something happened. One day, a little mouse came under the floor boards. This mouse had great wisdom. No one knew where this mouse came from, but he was highly respected. He told the Person the door would not open without action. He told the Person how to open the door. The Person was overjoyed! He had waited so many years, and now, finally, he had the chance to see it happen.

The Person embarked on his journey. He had to find a rare flower growing in a field. It was red, and had soft, velvety petals. Its fragrance was subtle, and sweet. But it was a passionate fragrance. Appropriate for the Person, who was also passionate in his desire for the door to open. This field was very far away, and the Person couldn't get there by walking. He had to crawl, through twisty tunnels on his hands and knees. He had to hike up mountains and climb cliffs. He had to go through cities and villages, and help people. He had to walk along the edge of a high cliff. He stopped. It was very high. He wasn't afraid of heights, but he knew the danger. a wall rose up on his right, and there was open air on his left. Step by step, he moved forward and the ledge became narrower and narrower. He thought of turning back, but this was the way the mouse had told him to go. This was the way to the field with the flowers. He had to do this because without the flower, and without the trials of getting the flower, the door could not open. The flower's fragrance would penetrate the door when he could not.

He put his foot down and the ledge creaked. He pulled it up a little, and saw that someone had driven a spike into it, causing the rock to fracture. Who would do that? Who would try to prevent people from reaching the flowers? He shook his head. No choice but to continue on. He had to get to the flowers. He took another step. The ledge cracked and fell away, and he lost his balance. He felt his back scrape across the remaining part of the ledge. He twisted his hand around and grabbed for anything he could. In the next moment, he felt something hard beneath his fingers and rock against his forehead. His eyes went black for a moment, but he closed them and concentrated on his hand that was gripping the ledge for dear life.

When he could see again, he noticed that enough of the ledge was left that his fingers would still grip it all the way across, assuming his strength held out. He reached his other hand up, and felt blood tickle his spine. Then he felt some drip down the tip of his nose as well. Nothing to do but go on. Do this for the flower. Hand by hand, he swung himself along the ledge, until he could see that it widened. His fingertips were bloody by the end, and his arms shaking uncontrollably. He had reached a place where he could swing his legs up, but he did not have the strength. He stopped, and hung there for a while. Panting, he put his head against the cool rock. Sweat mingled with the blood on his back and it began to sting. Sweat and blood poured down his forehead and mixed with the tears streaming down his cheeks.

He inhaled, and then quickly, he flexed his arms, swinging one foot up at the same time. His heel caught on the ledge. At last! A tiny bit of relief for his aching arms. Slowly, he managed to pull himself onto the ledge. His lungs and heart pounding, he rolled facedown and put his cheek to the cool stone. His arms were still shaking. He had trouble unflexing them. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he didn't know how much time had passed. But he was rewarded for his efforts. The ledge had taken him around a bend, and beyond this bend was a little field nestled on the mountain. The field was full of flowers and a sweet scent hung over the entire area. The air hummed with bees busy on their meanderings through the field, happy and fat. Just the sight made him forget the ache in his back and head and arms. It made him forget his pain. And then he looked at his fingers. The blood was gone. He raised his hand to his head. Nothing. Not even a bit of skin scratched. Not a single drop of blood was on his body.

What a wonderful place this must be! What a wonderful flower grew here. He went forward, following the mouse's instructions, and followed the path into the field. He wanted to run through it, and he wanted to lie down and sleep all at once. He went to the center, near an old oak tree, and gathered up 5 of the flowers closest to the trunk. These were the sweeter smelling flowers, the flowers that were healthier and more ripe. As he turned to follow the path around the tree, he came across some long planks and a rope. He wondered what they were for, and then it hit him. The path turned back on itself here. The path went back the way he'd just come. He had to go back over the ledge without crushing the flowers. The realization hit him full in the face. Someone had placed the boards here with the rope because they knew the ledge was a problem. And they knew that he would be going back, and they knew how much the flowers meant to him. And they wanted the ledge to be a struggle. If it weren't, the flowers and the results of getting them would not be as precious. He smiled a tired smile, and lifted the planks and rope.

After many struggles, he found he had come to the end of his journey. The flowers were dried out, but still carried a sweet scent around them. He brought them to the mouse, who smiled and told him he had done well. After more instructions, the mouse left. The Person put the flowers in a bowl, and placed a cloth over them. He put his hands into the bowl, and slowly began to knead the cloth, crushing the flowers. The smell grew stronger, especially when he had removed the cloth, and shaken the flower fragments back into the bowl. He then turned, and took a pot of boiling water, pouring it over the flower powder. The aroma multiplied, and soon, the whole room was heavy with the wonderful scent. He turned and placed the bowl in front of the door, knocking once more. Still no answer. But as he watched, a rich color filled the bowl. It was a reddish, purple hue, and it slowly colored the steam as well. He watched the steam rise and a cool breeze blew it into the keyhole and under the boards. He smiled.

It was getting in. He knocked again. He heard a noise, and pressed his ear to the door. Someone was on the other side, doing something. It was probably an everyday, ordinary something. But slowly, the someone on the other side began to sniffle. It was the painful, anguished sniffle of someone trying not to cry. He remembered the feeling. He had felt it while on the ledge, holding on for dear life, trying to be brave and strong and not cry. But the farther he went on, and the closer he got to the flowers, the more he had allowed himself to cry.

He knocked again. He wanted to hold the someone on the other side, and wrap his arms around them and tell them he'd be there for them. He wanted to give them comfort. He remembered the feeling well, because he'd been there. But after a few minutes, he had a new thought. What if the person just needed some privacy? Remembering the exhilaration he felt when he'd pulled himself onto the ledge again, he felt like an intruder, spying. He decided to give them some privacy for a while. Let them work through their tears like he had his own. He knocked again, not expecting an answer, and turned away, slipping quietly into the next room. He sat down to wait. Then, he heard a noise. Was it a door opening? He rushed into the hallway, just in time to see the sliver of light disappear behind the door. He was disappointed, but he smiled. The opening of the door had allowed great amounts of the scent of the flowers to cross through. He chuckled. If it can happen once, it can happen again. One day, he would be reunited with those he loved on the other side of that door.

itch

So... I don't know if I've shared this or not. My ankles have been acting up lately. Old injuries, not helped by the cold, dance class, and jujitsu. So, on November 13th, I was achy everywhere below the hips and so I put something called Zheng Gu Shui (water for the bone) on my ankles and knees. It was amazing and stopped hurting right away. I'd put it on every evening because it would take the night to feel better and then the rest of the day to start hurting again. On the tenth day, I thought... "Gee I must have gotten a spider bite or something, the back of my knee is really itchy." By the next day, both knees were bumpy and itchy. It spread to my ankles and then to the tops of my knees. By day five, I had scabs in some places on my ankles, mostly from scratching in my sleep, but some from scratching during the day. It resembled poison ivy in terms of the itch and look of the rash, except without the oils. However, I was happy because ten days of ZGS had greatly relieved my pain, and when it came back, I occasionally thought "If it gets any worse, I'll use ZGS without regard to a rash." Luckily the pain didn't get any worse, because by day 6, I decided its 10 times itchier than poison ivy. If you scratch poison ivy, it hurts because you injure the skin but the itch is satisfied. With this, if you scratch, sometimes it injures the skin but no matter what you do, nothing satisfies it. When you're done scratching, you just let it sit, and then you feel heat rushing into your foot and it feels like your foot is on fire until you scratch again. Supposedly, according to this website that researched it, ZGS has caused no known cases of allergies, but occasionally causes a rash (I guess as a side effect). Antihistamines did nothing to help me, so I thought of buying an anesthetic. Since I've never heard of over-the-counter anesthetics, I settled for (under Anissa's instruction) Aveeno cream with hydrocortisone. This stuff is a God-send. I have officially decided I'm going to fall in love with hydrocortisone and marry it.

In other news... I hate Mason Gross and I think he should die. Well... his school. Far as I know he's already dead. The teachers I have are pretty decent, even Marshall Jones, but for liberal arts students who have decided to do something with their degrees in case theater doesn't work out for them, the major requirements are asinine. If I hadn't already put 7 semesters into this, I'd change my major tomorrow. I know that there are great theater experiences out there, but this semester I have found very few and I don't want to work in a field that has so many people who check out and go to mars every day. I want to be able to sleep when its dark out, and get 8 hours of sleep a night, and eat food that isn't cucumbers-and-dip-on-a-bagel because you don't have time to go food shopping because the stage manager owns your life. I want to be able to do my homework when its assigned, and I don't want to fight off silverfish while I'm waiting for my cues. If I work in a theater after college, I want to be able to breathe while inside, without having allergies to the air. I don't ever want to see paint hanging from the ceiling in strips because water leaks through the wall and loosens it. Rutgers has too many of those types of buildings. I want to be able to eat my meals sitting down and sleep lying down and do my cooking standing up.

Ok. I'm done complaining I think. Thanks for listening.

No, I'm not. I have one more thing. I'm not taking it as well as I thought I would, and I'm not taking it as well as it looks. I think too much and also think too little. Molly knows this and comes to sleep on my lap.

story

I might be posting a story here... I might delete it before I hit the "publish" button. We'll see.

The main character doesn't have a gender. Well... that's not true. But by choosing a gender, I feel like I'm alienating the half of my readers who aren't that gender. And the English language has no pronoun that includes both genders. "It" I feel excludes both genders. So, when I can't avoid the use of pronouns, I'm going to borrow one from the Italian language. "Loro" is a 3rd person plural pronoun today. But in the past, the Italians used Loro, capitalized, when addressing royalty... sort of a "royal we" in a sense. Because I think so much of you, as you read this, that I want to use a pronoun that doesn't denote gender, but royalty. Because this story is for you.

Well you know what... it was a nice idea, but Loro isn't working for me. I feel like it alienates the English speakers... and that's a bigger percentage than alienating one gender or another. So... its going to be a male pronoun... mostly because... I can think of more guys who read my blog than girls. Sorry, girls. Its still for you too.

He crawled into the corner of the room, head sagging, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't want to carry it anymore. He didn't want to hide Them anymore. He took a shuddering breath like one who has worked long and hard to hold back the tears. He swallowed painfully, like one who has kept the tears in the back of his throat for far too long. His body doesn't like that. Tears are meant for the eyes. He looked at his arms, studying the curve of his bicep. It was strong. In his attempts to hide Them, he had done many things. He had used those biceps. He had made life better for others, because he could not do so for himself. His gaze shifted to his hand, palm down on the floor, bracing his weight to keep him from dropping facedown on the floor. He wondered what would happen if he did. Would he get up eventually? He flexed his hand, watching the skin stretch across the veins underneath. How perfect that hand is. Opposable thumbs, fingernails. How useful. His hands had gotten a lot of use. He had injured, he had healed, he had helped, and he had allowed them to lie useless. He had explored with his hands. But never himself. He had never explored his own body. Because of Them. Well, what would happen if he stopped hiding Them?

Slowly, he dragged his hands across the tiles, and pushed himself upright. The water streamed into his eyes, and he closed them. No, keep hiding. Take a deep breath. Let the warm water cover your face, let it make you forget there are tears there too. Tears. What are those? There's nothing on your face now. Take a deep breath. Clear your mind. Stabilize. Take a deep breath. But what about Them?

He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to open them. Slowly, without realizing it, his hand moved up to his chest. It hovered there for a split second. Then, with a shock going through his body, his fingertips brushed his chest.

Now he could open his eyes. He looked down to where those hands, those perfect hands touched Them. His imperfect chest with rough lines crowding around the sternum. His fingers moved slowly, as if horrified. He touched a lump of scar tissue, and followed the jagged line across his heart, and down to his stomach. He put both palms on his chest and slowly dragged them down it, to the base of his stomach.

He remembered the appendicitis scar. He knew where it had come from. He didn't mind that one so much. His gaze went to the one over his heart. He remembered its pain, but he didn't know where it had come from. He looked at a short one that fit neatly between two ribs. It was close to his back; he had to twist a little to see it. A friend with a knife isn't a friend. He turned to a patch of ripply, discolored skin. Burns are some of the worst ways to scar. It has ugly shapes and faces that stare back at you out of your own skin, smiling and laughing and taunting you. His breathing quickened, and his face began to burn as red as the scar. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Open them. He looked at a swirling, lumpy scar. That one was unique. His father had the same scar on his chest. And his grandfather had it too. He'd never met his great-grandfather, but he guessed that scar went way back. His fingers traced the shape of it. Unlike the other scars, this one still hurt. When he touched it gingerly, he felt an arrow deep in his chest. The scar had been there on the day of his birth, irritating him, reminding him whose family he was from. And it was still there. And it would be there until he died.

He turned off the water, reached out for a towel. Cover Them quickly before you see yourself in the mirror. But... not today. What would happen if he looked in the mirror? What would happen if he stopped hiding Them? He was in front of the mirror now. Should he do it?

Before he decided, there was a knock on the door. Probably someone waiting impatiently. How long had he been in there? He had lost track of time. The knock came again, but no one called for him. No one wanted to know how long he would be. He assumed he could take as long as he wanted. That was nice of them. He figured, he could be nice back.

He opened the door and looked into the hallway. He didn't see anyone. But he felt better. He felt a slight breeze as the hot steamy vapors rolled into the hallway. It was refreshing, that cool breeze. He smiled. That person loved him. That person wanted him to feel the breeze. Thank you. He loved that feeling of being loved. It made him stand straighter. It made his chest tingle. It made his pain disappear. He closed the door again, and turned back to the mirror. His eyes were red, but his face was dry.

He lowered his eyes to the large towel wrapped around his body. What if? His hands moved to where the towel was tucked into itself, and slowly undid it. He braced himself for the horrible sight. What he saw in the mirror shocked him. The towel fell to the floor, forgotten.

His hands went to his chest. He repeated the motions he had made before. Palms down, at the top of the sternum, slowly (but not quite as slowly this time) bring them down that smooth, clean skin. What on earth had happened? Where- what. Wait. His mind failed to comprehend the idea that was slowly trying to form in his mind. Where had the scars gone?

Scars are scars forever. They can't just up and leave. And yet, they had. He remembered the tingle he'd felt when he opened the door. But... no. Well... maybe. Nah. He smiled. Ok. Sure. He would give the person the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they took Them. Why not? They loved him enough to knock. He looked at his chest again. The smooth skin stretched over his pectoral muscles. He hadn't noticed them before. They looked good. He flexed. It felt good, and he knew he had used his muscles well. Hiding Them had also hidden the beauty of those muscles that had gotten so much use over the years.

Sorry guys... I wish I could go on, but... I stayed up way past my bedtime to do this. I'm getting up in 4 hours to catch a train to NYC. But this has been stirring inside me for a while and I just now figured out how to get it out. So this had to be done before I lost it. Goodnight.

forgot to mention....

hmm... who would walk 1.3 miles barefoot to cheer me up... that's interesting.

yeah... my blog entries have been shorter lately. Or at least less about what's going on inside. Not because nothing's going on but because I'm expressing it differently. Its ok. I'm sure no one misses the novels.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh

I am SOOOO ITCHY everywhere below the knee!!!

following Anissa's lead

I slept really late today because I had a rare nightmare that exhausted me.

There was stuff before the scary part but I don't really remember much because this sci-fi-ish part sort of overshadows it. But I was calling a meeting of I guess it was Star Trek crew and Star Wars crew. (Not the fans but the characters from Star Wars/Trek.) I knew they didn't get along but we couldn't do the job we had to do or be safe until everyone was united.

There was a pool with a grate covering it, as if to keep some fish or dangerous water creature from jumping out. That was where we gathered, and the tension was high because the two groups were isolating themselves. They weren't human though... some of them were humanlike enough but they all had special powers and abilities. I could tell they were uneasy being near each other and sort of intimidated by each other's powers. I told them that they had to kill the enemy in the youngest stages of its life. This stage was when the young were little plant-like babies (not little cabbage patch kids, but cute like that, and definitely plant-mammals that grew).

They each had sunflowers that looked like little colorful brussel sprouts and we had to take them away because this would prevent the growth of the young. It was hard because they were cute little guys but we knew they'd grow up to be monsters. The sunflower things had flies inside acting as guardians, so we also had to kill the flies so the mature monsters wouldn't know we were attacking the young ones. My brother killed some, but missed a couple of flies, who bit me and got in my socks and clothes, along any part of me that had clothing close to the skin, and it pricked and itched. I killed some of the flies but I knew that meant that the parents knew we'd killed some of their children so they were coming for us. I ran into my bathroom where my dad helped me get my clothes off and find all the flies' bodies. I was going to shower later but my mom was still in the shower so I had to wait for her. My dad left, and I felt something brush past me and I knew it was an adult monster coming into the bathroom.

That was when I realized I'd forgotten to warn my crew that the adults are invisible. My mom opened the shower curtain to grab her towel and saw me reaching out to find this monster and saw me wrestling an invisible enemy. She was puzzled because she didn't know what kind of danger it was. I knew exactly what to do. As soon as I realized I had the monster by the throat, I held it up to the mirror in the bathroom because then I could see it. He was blue, and had an octopus-like head, beady sort of eyes, and weird lips. No skeleton, just sort of octopus-like cartilage/muscle. If you're a Star Wars geek and know who Admiral Akbar is, it sort of looked like it might be a blue relative of his.

I twisted the head around several times using the mirror to guide me, until his neck which was like silly putty got too tight to support his circulatory system. He withered and became visible and I was sort of holding an empty shell of his body. I looked at my crew, who were there suddenly, wide-eyed, and I said "I forgot to mention that the adults are invisible" and told them they had to hold their enemy to the mirror in order to fight them. Then the bathroom door burst open and I knew that at least two more adults had entered. I tried to get them in front of the mirror but it was hard. I woke up reaching for them and my heart was pounding and I almost felt as if they were still there (I've had this sensation before, of the dream feeling like it had materialized in my room as I woke up). I started praying because I'd never had a dream that was so far-fetched and still believable at the same time (usually in the far-fetched dreams, I am aware that I am dreaming but can't do anything about it.)

I need to chill

So, my mom came to see the play on Sunday and commented that it looked like I'd lost weight. I guess it was just the stress of the show combined with lack of sleep and homework and not having a meal card to get a quick easy dining hall meal and substituting healthy food with four chocolate chip cookies.

But I decided to sort of check up on myself, and looked up some symptoms of really stressed out people. Here's what I discovered that I can remember experiencing during the rehearsal weeks.

Sleep disturbances. A couple of times, the most notable being when I spent the night on Busch with Andrew and got really irritated and woke up to have one of the worst rehearsal days ever.

Back, shoulder or neck pain. Ask Cyrus, Steve, and Anissa about this. I had more knots than a fisherman.

Upset stomach or cramps. And here I was thinking Cyrus' tofu stomach was just contagious.

Weight loss. I lost 5 pounds, but then I came home for Thanksgiving.

Fatigue. A couple times I thought I was going to die in my modern dance class, and I had to avoid jujitsu to some extent because it wore me out.

Shortness of breath. That's what I consider fatigue, so see above. Well, fatigue I guess is low energy too.

Cold feet or hands. Well yeah but thats a given. I have that from October to April every year.

Skin problems. The creases of my knees broke out in a rash. Really wierd.

Relational problems/conflicts/overreactions. Uhh...

Emotional. Nerves, moodiness, depression, memory problems, lack of concentration. I had to have a little planner and if I didn't write something in the planner then 3 minutes later it was gone to the same place deleted files go once they leave the recycle bin.

So, this is a warning to everyone reading this. Do lots of activities, but don't kill yourself to get things perfect. I think the reason this was so stressful is cause it was my first time stage managing and I wanted things to be just right. So yeah thats what I learned from all this.

But... its theater. It was worth it. :-D

sigh

There are things I still don't understand, still things I think might have happened differently. But nothing's a fairy tale. I'm not going to push it. I'd rather stay happy and celebrate the fact that no one got hurt. Mourn for what's gone, but celebrate the memories.

No regrets?
None. I would do it again in a heartbeat, even if I knew it would end the same, with the same amount of tears. How can anyone regret living? How can you regret catching a shooting star? How can you regret learning how to fly? How can you regret being free? The ending tears are the price of freedom. Freedom always has a price. Shooting stars are fiery and hot. But its always worth the burn. And if the star comes by again, ok. I'll go for it again. And if it doesn't, ok. I'll still be happy.

thoughts

So, I've noticed a pattern. At every highly influential or emotional point in my life, I've been inspired to write. And quite often, even if I pour it out in poetry, or paintings, or dance, I still feel compelled to put it into a piece of long fiction (medieval fantasy type thing) I've been working on for 4 years now. I had reached a point where I couldn't go any further in my novel, but now, I seem to have found some inspiration. I just have to find a time to write. Maybe over winter break, I'll find some time. We'll see.

In other news, I have officially found out my worth in monetary value (see humanforsale.com): $2,099,000. And I lost $10,000 for having a size 10 shoe :-( such is life in my gene pool I guess. My mom's whole family has big feet.

Jujitsu, my first day back in a long time, was today. I knew if I went I would either have my mind totally not there at all, or I would go to completely forget everything off the mat and have one of the hardest workouts I've had in a long time. Fortunately, for safety's sake, it was the latter. Jess and I worked together, and we got through all of the Yawara list (wrist escapes), and all but one of the Nage (throws). By the end, my eyes were sort of glossing over, and I thought I might fall asleep midthrow. It was more a sort of mental and emotional exhaustion than physical, but when those two are exhausted, they sort of drag the body along too. It was good. Sorta reminded me of when I worked at Betty's farm last summer though. Extreme physical workout to get my mind off other things. But it was good, and productive. I'm glad I went to jujitsu today.

I'm glad that a lot of things happened today.

emmylou harris

As I travel on life's pathway, knowing not what the years may hold, as I ponder, hope grows fonder, precious memories flood my soul, precious memories, how they linger, how they ever flood my soul, in the stillness of the midnight precious sacred scenes unfold...

I've quoted that song before. But I love it, especially now, cause... just cause. I'm having lots of memories for lots of reasons. I've been meaning to post this in some form for a long time. I finally know how to phrase it though. Simply.

Italian festival fireworks
Midnight strolls
Dancing or substitute dancing
Petting zoos
Getting lost, studying maps
Campgrounds
The White House
Camden
Batman
Cowprint
Philadelphia twice
Lee Greenwood
Vanilla peanut butter ice cream
Aida
Gummy bears
Turtles
Strawberry Wafers
Omega
Trying to hide a blush
Ferris wheels
French
Mancala

These things make me so incredibly happy.

apologies

The show is over. I was good until last night. I skipped out on the cast party, dropped in bed, got 9 hours of sleep and woke up exhausted. Then I got to the theater late, and spaced out for the last bit of the show. I identified with the part of the show where the characters feel like the machines they run at the luggage factories. I ran through the show, called all the cues, etc, like a machine. And why not? Its the 5th show. I have everything practically memorized.

So, I'm really spaced out and loopy. So this is my public apology to everyone I talked to today, either on IM or in person. I know I wasn't all there. I don't even have an excuse. Everyone else can blame the cast party. Steve came over to kill time before work and to give me a massage, and I am not completely sure I remember everything about what I said... I do remember the massage though because I was tense and didn't realize it... but I'm sure whatever came out of my mouth must have been really odd.

Anyway... here it is: my apologies. Now I'm off to bed. 'Night!

addendum

When I walked up to the table, your eyes lit up. I haven't seen that in a while, but it makes me happy to know that your eyes light up when I walk up. I don't know if I acknowledged it. I'm sorry.

just a little something

So this was my away message today:

"I got an email saying that at 6:33 today someone will tell me something I've been waiting to hear. well... at 6:33 tonight I'll be in a theater on opening night, surrounded by lighting designers who are doing last minute things, actors who can't find their costumes, and directors who've poured sweat and blood into this thing for the past two months. Which means at 6:33 someone might say something to me, but it will not be something I've been waiting my whole life to hear spoken aloud."

So, at 6:33 tonight... I was backstage making notes from the script and talking to myself haha. I just get a kick out of that.

BTW the show went well tonight. No last minute crises. But there's room for improvement.

something else I stole from Cyrus...

I'm a little theif now. Cyrus has this google game in his xanga where you type your name followed by the word needs and hit enter. Here's what I need:

Meghan needs no introduction
Meghan needs a cup of vodka (do I ever!!)
Meghan needs a savage beating
Meghan needs to gain weight
Meghan needs to call me
Meghan needs to understand all the facts about her situation
Meghan needs an ear
Meghan needs some cheer in her life
Meghan needs help um... sledding
Meghan needs something I can't give her
Meghan needs you the most
Meghan needs a favorable break (totally!! its called thanksgiving!!)
Meghan needs to be tied
Meghan needs a boy. the end.
Meghan needs to get nekkid too
Meghan needs to let go
this was in caps: MEGHAN NEEDS TO SHUT HER MOUTH
Meghan needs to learn how to wrench
Meghan needs to shut the &%$@ up
Meghan needs to be banned from here for her dirty mouth
Meghan needs to leave now

Well then. Ok. I will shut up, if that's how the world feels about it.

note

there's a reason this is in my blog not my xanga.

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

~William Shakespeare

Wooooo Hoooooooo!

New flash:

The musical I am working on has moved into the theater space in College Hall. This means that we will have no more rehearsals in wierd places like Yorba Lounge and the lobby of the Dean's office. Because we will be in the student center, and the student center has offices that need to be locked up at certain ungodly hours of the night, that also means that when the student center is locked up, we have to leave. Which means, absolutely under no circumstances not pertaining to acts of God will we have rehearsal past midnight. Which makes me extremely happy.

Also...

This show is one that allows the working man to speak to the audience. Which means 24 characters tell their life stories to me in rehearsal every day, sometimes twice a day. Often its things like, "I've had a hard life, but I'm making things better for my daughter." I'm worn out, but the houses I've built will stand years after I'm gone. I've given my body and soul to this factory so I can't go anywhere else. I'll just keep doing it, but don't ever let me meet the guy who owns me now. I had so much going for me but circumstances changed all that and now I'm here, but at least I have something to point to. I get this over and over, and even though the show has a theme of hope running along those sad lines, its an emotional rollercoaster for me, and today I was about ready to have a breakdown. I sat down and I started writing a letter to someone I needed to write to but who will probably never see the letter. Then I called Anissa. And we set up a dinner date to have girl time and then Steve came over with a movie and even though I may go short on sleep, I really really needed that time to undo my emotional pent-up-ness so I was very glad it happened.

Now that its over, I need to go to bed. There's no rehearsal tomorrow, just set building, so I don't have to sit through more emotions either. Its a needed break I think.

10 Rules For Living Together

1. Don't lock the door at night. If someone tries to get in while we are sleeping, locking the door would mean he'd make a lot of noise and wake us up. We all need our beauty sleep.

2. If garbage pickup is Tuesday mornings and Friday mornings, make sure to get the garbage out of the kitchen by Wednesday and Saturday. But only do it if the garbage has been there for at least 10 days. No sense making the garbage man work for a couple of measly cans. That's our tax money he's spending.

3. If Molly's litterbox smells, spray the entire bathroom with ammonia.

4. Don't do dishes. Its a waste of water.

5. Plan parties. Invite me a couple of days before.

6. Instead of turning the heat down, open every window in the house.

7. Bring plants into the house, but don't water them. See number 4.

8. Don't clean unless there are people coming over. Its a waste of water and cleaning solution.

9. Don't feed Molly. If she's hungry enough, she will catch mice and bugs and protect us from bad creepy crawlies.

10. Don't put the phone back on the charger. When the batteries die, we'll have peace and quiet from all those wrong number calls we've been getting.

**disclaimer**
this blog entry is meant to be funny or at least somewhat satirical. i love living here. don't take this the wrong way.

thursdays

Thursdays are officially the day skeevy guys have chosen to point their radar at me, find me, hit on me, and creep me out. No one ever hits on me on any other day. Only Thursdays. At first I thought it was the fact that I walk through New Brunswick on Thursdays, but I didn't today, and still got hit on.

So the story is this. I went to my make-up class, which by the way was amazing. I did my fantasy project, an autumn woodland fairy. Afterwards, my friend wanted to go to the library but didn't want to be the only one still wearing makeup. So I went with her, and the guy next to me at the computers did a double-take. That was interesting. We walked to the library with Mickey, who was a My Little Pony -style unicorn, complete with silver hair dye.

When I got back to my apartment, with several double-takes from passers-by, I really didn't want to take the makeup off, but I knew it would just get smeared in jujitsu, and anyway it would distract the kids in the kid's class. So Cyrus and Anissa came over to get pictures (Cyrus is moving soon, BOOOOOO) and from there, Cyrus gave me a ride, so I didn't have to walk through skeevyguyville.

I had to be at rehearsal at 9:30 though, so I had to leave jujitsu early, and stop in the student center to get dinner. On the way out, there was this guy. Ok. So, go back to the November 2 entry, the part where it says: "avoid the creepy guy from class last year who invades personal space and smells like BO only when he opens his mouth which is all the time." After he dropped out of that class halfway through the fall semester last year, I saw him once on the bus, and once in the summer when he came into Subway and talked to Allan, and then that incident on the bus to Livingston where he sat down almost on my lap and wouldn't stop talking because he couldn't handle the fact that I was reading the Chronicles of Narnia instead of giving him attention (BTW why do I attract needy people? they should get a psychological study going here...). The one time I didn't mind his presence so much was the time in the summer when I was surrounded by over 10 people who outrank me in jujitsu, 95% of which were guys.

So I'm rushing out of the atrium area, dinner in hand, and I hear, "HEYYYYY how are you?" as if we're best friends even though neither of us knows the other's name. I slowed and smiled and waved. "Hey, are you going off to eat by yourself?" In the theater world, we talk a lot about subtext which is... what the person REALLY means when they say a line. His subtext was, "Hot girl, no guy around to stake a claim, I can't even make a decent sentence because all I'm thinking about is that she's female." I said, "No, I'm actually headed out to catch a bus." He said, "You have to go, RIGHT this minute?" (Subtext: "Hot girl just rejected me, I have to try harder to affirm myself." I said, "Yeah I have to go over to Livingston for rehearsal, so I'm gonna eat there. I don't want to be late." And I hope my subtext was, "I don't give myself extra time because I try to have excuses to avoid people like you." But I don't know if it was. He knew I was involved in theater stuff because he interrogated me while he was sitting on me on the bus over to Livingston last time he saw me, and totally snubbed the theater world, another reason I'm being a bit more hostile in this blog than I was towards the other skeevy guys. So he said, "Oh yeah for that show I'm not going to see." Which made me grit my teeth. When I finally separated them, I managed a polite, "Ok I'll see you around."

So anyway... that's my Thursday now. Somehow similar to several other Thursdays. I wonder why its only Thursdays.

Anyway, I haven't written about jujitsu lately because I've been in a bit of a slump. The stuff I've learned is becoming very practiced, and the more I practice, the worse I get. I lose heart because I'm tired of seeing my techniques go to pot. But in jujitsu today, Barb gave a bit of a lecture. She said, often, jujitsu corresponds to your life. There are mountains and valleys and plateaus and sometimes dead-end walls. And it really hit home, the correlation between jujitsu and personal life. Several of our jujitsuka have had serious problems in their lives and it has influenced them in terms of jujitsu, in some cases, delaying their testing for another rank. Others have gone through a period of personal growth, and this is also reflected in jujitsu. In Sam's words, "things are moving" in the dojo right now. Steve, Andrew, and Cyrus just tested. Doug, Sam, and Dhaval are almost there. It makes me think about what that reflects for us, as a group. But it also makes me think about my life. My jujitsu has been headed for the valley... but if I analyze my life at the time my jujitsu was going up the mountain, things were really good. I was close with God, and learning so much about myself, God, friendships, and my past. Now, well its hard to analyze a time period while you're still in that time period, but if my jujitsu now is where it is, it makes me think about where my life is. I'd say its in a valley, but I don't know why. I think its one of those things I have to move beyond before I can get a clear idea of what it is and what it looks like. But anyway... that one little thing that Barb said really made me think.

And thats it. I'm done thinking for tonight. 'Cause its really morning.

PS... as if this weren't long enough. For some reason I just wanted to add this:

Oberonious: the leaves are beautiful, are they not?
Me: they are so beautiful that i'm glueing some to my face in makeup class today.

Me: k... i'm off to turn myself into an autumn fairy. i'll talk to you later
y oyo81: !

Me: i have theater major plastered all over my face. literally.