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.

Signs you're an LTC stage manager

First, check this out. http://www.geocities.com/Broadway/Stage/2203/theatrejokes.html

1. You go to log into a Rutgers computer and instead of typing your Rutgers id, you type the LTC username.

2. Your phone rings two hours before rehearsal and you answer it because you automatically assume its a cast member with a crisis.

3. Your family forgets what you look like.

4. Your friends are shocked when you tell them you have two whole hours to hang out.

5. You can't remember the last time you were asleep before midnight.

6. You spend the weekends in the nearest location you can find to the rehearsal space so you can get there on time.

7. You can't remember what number 7 was because you forgot to write it down in the prompt book and cue yourself to type it.

long overdue congrats

Cyrus tested for Ikkyu in Jujitsu on Thursday (and passed!). So, this is a little late in coming, but here's public recognition and congratulations!

As for me, I've been stressed out about stuff lately, and after jujitsu today, Cyrus, Steve, and I went to Anissa's for massage. It was sooo amazing and relaxing, and after that, Anissa had me take a hot bath, which was also amazing. Topping it off with ice cream and warm fuzzy socks, I now feel like I can make it through the next couple of days without jumping into the hole they are digging to China over on Livingston.

Speaking of which... that hole is kinda creepy. On Halloween night, the first night of the hole, the walkway was dark because they had taken out some of the lights during the construction process. For some reason, maybe a busted pipe or something, there was steam rising from the hole, with some distant lights sort of backlighting it. It looked like a hole to hell or something. But it was in the wrong place... the hole to hell is somewhere else on Livingston that I can think of. LOL but I'll be polite and not say anything else haha.

Ok, I'm relaxed and energized, so even though I have class early tomorrow, I'm not ready to go sleep yet.

:`(

I'm sitting here, and Molly seems to have decided that her present mission in life is to make me smile. Somehow, she always knows I need cheering up, when no other human does. Makes me think if cats were human they'd make a really tough audience for an actor, because they'd see right through you to who you really are.

I'm stage managing for LTC, and its stealing my soul. LTC isn't the same company it was last time I worked on a show with them.

I was thinking today, about the first drama teacher I ever had. Well, not technically the first, but the real first was more like musical theater, not straight acting. Beth... she was so outgoing and quirky. But she poured her life into producing theater. In August she would write the script, September begin gathering actors and costumes, October begin props and lighting, and November build the set. She designed everything, she directed everything, she organized groups of people to help her build and paint. In December, the show would open. After strike the actors had a week or two off, but she would spend it writing the next script. Our theatrical season ended in April, but she wouldn't finish putting costumes away until June. Then it was time to think about the next season. It was crazy.

And in all that I wondered why she was single. Now I'm working for LTC, and I know. Your friends can't possibly maintain the patience unless they too are crazy about theater. I say crazy and mean it. If I hadn't put 3 1/2 years into a theater major, I might change it just to keep my sanity.

Don't get me wrong. The show is awesome. The music is good, our choreographer is incredible. But everything else makes me want to throw bananas at people.

ps

Next week in makeup class is fantasy or an animal.

I'm torn between Molly, or the Autumn Fairy from Fantasia.

Any ideas anyone?

run run run

Today, I went to my makeup class. The topic was injuries. So, I made myself up to look like Dorothy. Upon arriving in Oz via Air Kansas, my pilot landed on the Wicked Witch of the East. The Lollipop Guild, Local #417, was secretly in league with Ms. East's sister, West. Fearing a political assassination, the Guild boycotted, but quickly escalated to a riot. I was stabbed in the leg by a lollipop stick. Upon bending over in pain, I was struck in the head by a lollipop, causing bruises and lacerations to the face and temple. The force of the blow broke the lollipop, pieces of which were then forced into my mouth, and could not be removed except surgically. Sitting next to me was a girl who was attacked by a werewolf. Next to her was a guy who had a sizzling fajita plate dumped on him. His makup came complete with slices of cheese and meat stuck to his face with liquid latex. It was cool.

Anyway, I rushed back to my apartment and actually had time to eat sitting down today. The downside of that is it would only have filled Anissa's stomach. I rushed out with my jujitsu bag, and decided to play a game. It was called the "Lets-see-how-many-old-guys-can-hit-on-
Meghan-before-she-loses-her-cool-and-stabs-one-with-a-lollipop?" Game.

Remember last Thursday? The crazy guys? Yeah I think the police missed one. Either that or every guy over 40 in New Brunswick is, as the Germans say, "heiss." Sorry to disappoint you all, but I can't write a script like I did last week because there was no dialogue. I was carrying Anissa's lollipop and gripped a little tighter, but I don't think he even knew I heard him.

Anyway. If someone doesn't do something about the traffic in New Brunswick, I'm going to have to keep walking to jujitsu on Thursdays. And if that happens, and New Brunswick still has men in it, eventually I'm going to lose it and (most likely not physically but verbally) lambast someone. Ha! I did it. I've always wanted to use the word lambast in a sentance. I don't know if I used it correctly though. Or contrapuntal. This pizza is contrapuntal.

Ok right. So now that you are shaking your head at my pitiful attempt at humor, I might go to sleep. Or stay up taking OkCupid tests.

ironic

So, several days ago, I took two Okcupid tests. The Sesame Street personality test. And the What kind of weapon are you test. So I found out that I am both Big Bird, and an HK-91 rifle.

You are very organized, more abstract, and more extroverted.

Here is why are you Big Bird. You are both very organized. You almost always know where your belongings are and you prefer things neat. You may even enjoy cleaning and find it therapeutic. Big Bird is never sloppy and always under control... pretty good for a 6 year old bird living without a family.

You both are abstract thinkers. Big Bird is a dreamer who always wonders what the world is like. You definitely are not afraid to take chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough to get by.

You are both extroverts. Big Bird gets along with everyone. He makes friends easily and always has a positive attitude. You definitely enjoy the company of others, and you don't have problems meeting new people... in fact you probably look forward to it. You are willing to take charge when necessary or work as part of a team.

AND

Of German Design, Heckler and Koch puts out some of the worlds best weapons ever made. You have been battle tested and proven many times over by several european nations. Your also very complicated to fully disassemble and are very finicky about what type of ammo you will use. using the wrong ammo can make you a very dangerous person, so make sure you get your facts right before launching an attack.


So, two complete opposites all inside my personality. Thought that was kind of interesting.

update on my day

CyViR: heyas, howdid your day go?
arwenundomiel9: it was: get up, run to the post office, pick up a class schedule for next semester run to the lab, print homework, run to work, run to class, run to the bank, run to the other post office, meet with mike from chi alpha, run back to my apartment, act like a vegetable for a little bit, eat dinner, run over to livingston for rehearsal, 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, run back from rehearsal and do a paper that is now due in 7 hours.

I also have a project due Thursday for theater makeup- the topic this week is injuries. This is evidence of hicksville.

arwenundomiel9: i have to have pictures of similar injuries too... so i'm thinking of using a picture of my brother's back after he and a friend played blow-for-blow
arwenundomiel9: but thats only one injury
CyViR: hrm.....
CyViR: what is blow for blow?
CyViR: dare i ask?
arwenundomiel9: i hit you, you hit me. common courtesy is equal strength blows.
arwenundomiel9: but its not a fight its... i will let you hit me, you will let me hit you.
CyViR: ......
arwenundomiel9: its a totally stupid game
arwenundomiel9: idiotic
CyViR: sounds captivating
CyViR: i real time waster
arwenundomiel9: but its west milford and there's nothing better to do
CyViR: sigh, your brother needs to take up board games or something
arwenundomiel9: haha... his latest project is exploding arrowheads

another shameless ad

Ok... everyone does this. But you are cordially invited to come see LTC's next show, Working, at which I am the stage manager. Working is a musical whose basic theme is to give a voice to the working man. Its about people with careers, hardships, and accomplishments. Opening night is Nov. 17 (Thursday) at 8 pm. There will be a show Nov 18 at 8 pm, Nov 19 at 2 pm and 8 pm, and Nov 20 at 4 pm. LTC is constructing the set a little bit differently this time around, so there will be slightly less seats than normal, and the cast is slightly larger than normal, which means that seating is limited and tickets are already being reserved, so I'd suggest you plan and get your tickets while you can. Let me know what day you'll be there, and I'll come out and say hi after the show.

what christians do to amuse themselves

I hung out with some old and dear friends from home tonight. It was a good time, despite feeling like we've changed and/or grown apart a bit. I had to share this little clip of what happened:

Guy on a Christian TV station: And if you just call the number on your screen, you can sow a financial seed in preparation for the blessings God has in store for you. We have a testimony of a man who chose to sow a $58 seed for each member of his family, for 12 months, believing that God has great blessings in store for each of them. So we encourage you to just call up the number on your screen.

So, my friend decided to call up the number just for kicks. I didn't hear the first part of the convo but then he put it on speakerphone.

Girl: So, we greatly encourage what you are about to do because God has promised to richly bless you.
Adam: Well umm how does this work, how do I give to God?
Girl: Well, we take checks over the phone or credit card-
Adam: But umm what do I do if like, I can't pay my rent, will I still have to pay the $58?
Girl: No, you would then call customer service and have them cancel it for the months that you can't afford to sow the financial seed. Would you like to give to God tonight?
Adam: I would love to give to God, I want to be blessed.
Girl: Well we want you to be blessed too. Can I have a zip code please?
Adam: Well, isn't there a book involved?
Girl: Yes, when you sow a financial seed, there is a book included as a way of showing our appreciation and asking God to bless you.
Adam: Well, good, I'd like God to bless me, I just don't know, 'cause of, you know, the rent, I don't know if I can do it every month.
Girl: Well if you would like, I can give you the mailing address here and you can sow your gift whenever you have the money. Would you like to do that?
Adam: Well, I don't know, I mean, is that easier?
Girl: Sometimes its better for people who are concerned about sowing that regular financial seed of $58 a month.
Adam: But I mean, if I can't pay then how do I cancel it if its in cash like that? I don't know. I don't know if I can pay the rent.
Girl: Well, sir I don't think I can make your decisions for you, but we certainly don't want to ask you to risk your house. You do what you feel God telling you to do.
Adam: Yeah, but I really want to sow my seed. This was a hang-out time for college age kids, and we all made eye contact at this. I will leave you to your own imagination about how capable we were of stifling any reaction from this comment so she wouldn't know she was on speakerphone.
Girl: We would love for you to sow your seed too, because this isn't about us, its about you reaping the blessing from God after feeling release and sowing your seed.
Adam: Can I talk to him on TV?
Girl: Well, I can't promise anything, but I can give you the number to call, and you can talk to him or someone in his office. I'm sure they can also help you in your decision. But tonight (here, she had obviously decided he was too concerned about money and that she wasn't getting any, so she decided to wind up the convo.) why don't you just pray about it and make a decision later when you feel ready?
Adam: Ok, thank you so much.
Girl: Goodnight

When he hung up, he told us about how on another of the Christian channels he (the pastor's son) and two friends (youth counsellors in the church) decided to call one day and "get saved." *sigh* In that sense they haven't changed. I miss them and wish I could hang out with them more. But... there are subtle differences. What's that saying about new friends and old... one is silver, the other gold. Something like that, I don't really remember. I guess what I'm trying to say is. I like silver better but I'm allergic to it, and gold is more valuable. Wait. That's not what I was trying to say. I don't know who's silver and who's gold. But either way, its not the same silver and gold that it was a year or two ago. I think I interact differently with people now. Well anyway. I'm tired and not making much sense, so I'm gonna save the speculation for another day. Night.

Extra Extra!

I found this in the Home News Tribune.

"This Thursday morning, around 10 am according to the police report, a group of 4 psychological terrorists entered the mental ward of St. Peter's University Hospital. Together, they conducted experiments on the patients, during which they showed the patients images of several Rutgers College students. The patients became so overcome with the beauty of one of the photos in particular. This girl will only be called Meghan, to protect her safety. Upon seeing the picture, the patients attacked and killed the terrorists, who were intending to use the mental patients to take over the rest of the hospital. They then attacked the nurses and doctors, and forced their way out of the building with one thing on their mind: to situate themselves in such a way that their pathway would cross with Meghan's. Police have attempted to contain the situation, but three subjects are still at large."

So yeah. I came across those three today while walking to jujitsu. I will use my theater degree to write a short script of the incidents. Unspoken lines will be in parentheses.

First guy: Hey babe, you got a cigarette?
Me: (Do I LOOK like a smoker?!)
Meghan keeps walking, making no eye contact or acknowledgement of having heard.
Guy: Ok then. Guess not.

Next scene, literally 5 minutes later.

Second Guy: Hey baby do you have two dollars?
Me: (I'm so not in the mood to be hit on right now) No, and I'm late; I have to go.
SG: Awww, one dollar?
Me: I'm a college student, you expect me to have money? (As if I would carry it around in Downtown New Brunswick anyway.)
SG: How 'bout a kiss?
Me: (eww.) (If he tries anything, like that guy did with Anissa... I'm not in the mood to settle for just a sternum rub.) No.
Meghan looks impatiently for the walk signal to change.
SG: No? Come on...
No response.
SG: Aww come on, just one? No? Pause. Okaaaaayyy. Just remember baby. I'll always love you. Always.
Me: You do that. (Oh thank God! The light turned.)

Next scene, two minutes later.

Meghan is walking down the street. There is a guy carrying a bag and dressed down. Very down. Like, paint all over dirty clothes kind of down.
Third Guy, in a really good imitation of a police voice: Hey you!! Yeah. You. The guy running!
Meghan looks, there is nobody running.
Me: (What? Why do all the crazy people come out now? Why can't I just get to jujitsu?)
TG: Hey! I'm telling you to stop! I got my eye on you! Yeah, I'm talking to you!
No one is paying any attention. Meghan walks faster.

So, there you go. I hope you liked my script. I'm sorry I had to play the lead though. I would have been happier being an extra. Or perhaps a prop. No, the only prop used was that bag in the arms of the third guy. I think I'd freak out if I were in his arms. *shudders.* Its not good when jujitsuka freak out.

Long...

So... modern dance today. I'm going to write something good, because this was the first class where I truly enjoyed myself. For the other classes, I'll admit, I haven't been bored. But today it really felt like play rather than work. We were each supposed to find a partner, and my partner was Tomm, a guy I had basic acting class with at the end of sophomore year. What we were supposed to do is- one person moves into a shape. Any shape- more like a pose I guess. And then the other person moves into a complementary shape. So you could move into a mirror image of the partner, or if his hand is out you could move into an opposing image, etc. I'm not exactly sure what I liked about it, but for some reason, I did. It felt like human sculpture, I guess. Anyway, then each group of two joined another, so we had 4. It was neat to work with so many other people. And then we did this thing where you strike a pose, and only come out of it when someone else comes to join you. Then you go and find someone else to strike a pose by. That was when one of the guys likened it to speed dating, and someone said, "what if no one comes to join you?" and Paulette said, "Well, that's something we all deal with in life so we'll see how it feels." And then this girl said, "I haven't been on a date in two WHOLE weeks." And when the snickers and strange glances subsided, Paulette made us get back to work. And that was cool too because you never knew who was going to come along to be your sculpture partner.

I came back and made tuna salad. I followed Anissa's lead and got my frozen, chopped habañero peppers from the freezer and put little tiny pieces in with the other spices. Those peppers are so hot, that when I took it out of the freezer, as soon as I got a whiff of it, my eyes dried up, and my lips started to tingle. But in the tuna salad, mixed with the mayo, they aren't so bad because capsaicin is oil-soluble. But apparently it got on my hands and an hour later I rubbed my eyes and that was a mistake. My eye started to burn like crazy and I wished we were near a chem lab so I could wash it out at the eye station. Instead I went to the bathroom and soaped up my hands with hot water. My eye eventually washed itself out with tears but that was an odd experience. I'll have to be careful with the peppers in the future.

Anyway, I'm not entirely in the greatest of moods. I found out that I can't go to jujitsu on Sunday, which is depressing because I've missed a lot of classes. At the rate I'm going, I'll reach the next rank by the time I'm 30. Ok that's an exaggeration.

Also I'm cold. And cold makes me grumpy. And my knees and ankles don't like cold too much. And my stomach's been grumbling at me for the past couple days. Maybe tofu stomachs are contagious.

On the good side, I'm glad my midterm is over with the really hard class with the really bad teacher. I don't think I did too horribly. Anyway, I guess I'm done complaining. Well, no I'm not, but I'll keep the last one to myself. Thanks for listening. I had to get all that off my chest. I'm not quite as stressed now. K bye.

hehe

"Takeru Kobayashi
Sport: Competitive Eating

Career Highlights: The five-time winner of the Nathan's Famous frankfurter eating contest held each Fourth of July at Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York. In 2004, he broke a contest record, eating 59 hot dogs in 12 minutes. In 2002, he won Fox's Glutton Bowl 1, and in 2003, he just barely lost to a Kodiak bear in a hot dog eating contest on Fox's Man vs. Beast program.

So, why are his opponents scared of him? Have you seen this guy?! Only 131 pounds, Kobayashi is an eating machine. The legend of the sport (and yes, this is a sport!) uses the innovative 'Solomon Method' technique when digesting his dogs. A master of the eating style, Koboyashi breaks each hot dog in two, then stuffs both halves in his mouth at once. NFL great William 'Refrigerator' Perry tried taking a stab at Koboyashi in 2003 but failed miserably. The 1985 Super Bowl star ate four hot dogs in the competition; Kobayashi had 44 1/2."

Fascinating. I know some people like that.

forgot

I forgot to say some stuff. But first, as I type this, Molly is asleep in my lap. And her whiskers are singed. So they are curly now haha.

Ok next order of business. I'm taking a theatrical makeup class. Next week's project is "transgender." I could either paint myself to look like a man, or paint one of my guy friends to look like a woman. Any guys out there want to get in touch with their feminine sides?

Next: I'm learning who I am through OkCupid. I've been delinquent in dutifully informing you all of my scores in the past couple of weeks, so here's a little just to catch you up. In the "what punctuation mark are you" test, I am a hyphen. Quotation marks intimidate me. I am also an "eternal virgin" and, the verdict's out- I am most positively not going to die while having sex (yes, they have a test for that, in case someone was worrying their heart out over it). And in a religion test, I scored higher than 94% of other girls my age on the variable "freaknut." Makes me feel good about myself there. I'm a freaknut. My personality is closest to Michelangelo (out of the four Ninja Turtles).

Ok. Useless information. Great! Kangaroo! Goodnight.

today in meghanland

Ok so... I can't do arm circles because whatever limited stuff I did at the jujitsu seminar made me sore. And I went to dance class today. Wow. So the teacher came in and looked around to make sure the floor was clear. She said, "Oh, there's a plastic bag on the floor like someone left a baby there." I'm thinking, "Ok, the stork story, baby in a bag sort of thing, how cute." People were looking at her funny so she explained herself. "You know, like when you're in the parking lot and you go to pick up a plastic bag and find that someone abandoned a baby there." Yeah, Paulette. It happens to me all the time. Those plastic bag babies are really getting to be a nuisance. People were still looking at her funny (wouldn't you?) and so she had to clarify. "I've never found one, I was just saying... cause I've read about it. I don't know from personal experience."

Who says that? WHY on earth would that be the first thing she thinks of as being inside a plastic bag? When you see a plastic bag in a dance studio, don't you think, "Maybe someone's dance shoes are in there" or a water bottle, or a leotard or something. But a BABY?

Anyway. I think I'm gonna die now. Or rip my muscles off. Physics and anatomy aside, moving would be so much easier without them.

Oh one more thing before I go shower. I feel really bad. Mel was cooking, and Molly jumped up on the stove and burned her paw. I feel really bad for her. I've never seen a cat move faster. We pinned her down and put ice on it, but she didn't like that. Technically, you should never put ice on a burn, always cold, still water. But I think Molly would have liked the water less. Now she sits and licks her paw all the time.

Ok, now I'm going to bring some acorn squash over to Anissa's and have a feast. But first I gotta shower. Bye all!

crazy weekend

Ok so... In addition to being a Mason Gross School of the Arts theater slave this weekend by working the patchpanel and dimmer switches backstage, I also am participating when I can in the bi-annual jujitsu conference at Rutgers. So my planned schedule for Friday looked like this: 10:30 bike over to College Ave to help set up mats. 12:00 bike back to Douglass, be at class by 12:30. 2:00 leave class, bike to College Ave by 2:30 in time to see Andrew/ give well-wishes to him before his black belt exam. Do jujitsu at the conference until 5:30. Bike back to Douglass, be at the Jameson Theater by 6. Prep for the show. Show starts at 8. With clean-up, get out by 11.

That was planned. What actually happened: 10:45 call Anissa to say I might be late. get there a little after 11, help with mats. A little before 12, run to the student center to get food, leave it with Anissa, for later. Bike back to Douglass for class. Outside the Wachovia, pop a tire. Lock bike up to a signpost, go into Wachovia and deposit checks. Call a classmate to tell the teacher I'll be late. 12:55, walk into class 20 minutes late and wet from the rain. 2:00 bike over to Anissa's to get the lunch I left with her. Sit and stare in a daze, and wonder why its so cold and rainy today. Debate going to jujitsu. I miss it. But with the start I got on the day, there's no telling what kind of weird injury I'll end up with. 2:55 watch Anissa catch Steve's contagious panic over not having cups for the water buckets at jujitsu. 3:00 leave with Anissa for the nearest store. Begin praying together for Andrew's test, and other things. (I really liked that part of the day.) 3:30 drop off the cups. Answer Sensei about why I'm not staying. And why Anissa's in the car waiting for me. (yeah, Anissa and me... the delinquent jujitsuka) 3:40- 4:10 get lost in New Brunswick. We've only lived here for how long? 4:15- 5:50 debate with Cyrus (also delinquent from jujitsu because of a tofu stomach) about going to jujitsu later, and whether or not we should do something special in honor of Andrew's big day. 6:00 get to the theater to prep for the show. 8:10 the show begins. 10:02 the show ends. 8 minutes early because the actors kept skipping lines. 10:20 leave cleanup early because on weekends we don't have to put the set pieces away in the closets so essentially we were all set for the next performance. Run back to the apartment to drop stuff off. Get picked up by Anissa, go to Andrew's, go to Omega for blueberry blintzes that tasted like chicken grease. Argue about paying since he can't just let people treat him to things which I'm going to find a way to cure him of. Go back to Busch, decide by a flip of a coin to stay overnight with Cara, Andrew, James, Eugene who I just met.

That brings us to today. The planned schedule was similar but irrelevant since as I have just proven, plans were invented so circomstances can say "screw you." Since anytime after midnight is today, the coin toss was technically today too. So we went inside and I argued with Andrew about where I was going to sleep... skip a few details here cause... just cause. I acted like a skootch and I feel bad about it. Get up, run to jujitsu, take a class on games for kids, in which we roll around on balls (picture a somersault sort of roll but hugging a giant ball instead of your knees), dive onto balls, roll from standing, catching plastic footballs, etc... It was a fun way to practice the skills needed in jujitsu. After that I went downstairs for a class in Iaido, which... if you saw The Last Samurai, the scene where Tom Cruise and some Japanese guys are sparring with wooden swords (bokken/bokuto), dressed in navy blue robes. That's Iaido. Well, to be more specific:

"The art of drawing a sword out of its scabbard, as fast and clean as possible, with evident naturalness and fluidity, being the main objective to cut the enemy long before he is able to draw his own sword or use any other type of weapon. The great masters of this art have gotten to be able to draw the sword and sheathe it back again with the speed of a lightning. Iaido is a sister art to Kendo, and is recommended when having certain experience in the latter."

So Tom Cruise was probably misrepresenting Kendo, which INVOLVES some form of Iaido. 'Cause you can't very well practice Kendo while the sword is still in the sheath. But anyway, now that I've taken this class, I am better prepared should I ever have to defend myself from someone swinging a sword at me. Provided they haven't drawn yet. Or if they have, provided they only attack with a swing over their heads. And somehow, even with a smooth, well sanded wooden sword, I managed to cut my knuckles of all things. It would be about the equivalent of a basketball player saying he got a cut from his basketball. Its a smooth object with no sharp edges. How do you do that?

So, anyway, I left for the theater about 12, got in at 12:30 and the stage crew are all freaking out because someone moved all our set pieces, and had a scene set for Streetcar Named Desire, which we are not doing. We rush to put everything back, the show starts etc. Show ends, and I have to hang around for "45 minutes" to help with a photo shoot. Which ends up being an hour and fifteen. 5:15, I am just about to turn the dimmers off when a wire pulls loose from one of the pins. To which the lighting designer cursed the building and the day it was built, the wire, the patch panel, the Jameson project in general, and anything else she could think of to curse. at 7:40, the soldering iron still won't solder the wire back in place, because the solder she has is for copper wires which, you guessed it, this particular patch panel does not use copper wiring. So its raining. The show starts in 20 minutes, and the audience wants to be allowed into the theater. And we still don't have the stage lights plugged in yet because if we do, Laura will get electrocuted. Finally we plug two lights into one patch on the panel, and kept checking the warning lights to see if we're exceeding the voltage. By this time, I'm exhausted, and emotional because of 1) last night 2) conversations with God 3) lack of sleep for the past week. So for the first 3 scenes of the play, I sat alone in the dark patch room with my headset, getting all my cues, but crying to God. Something cool happened. I thought of Aslan, and the scene where he comes up, and bends his head over Shasta, licks his forehead like a big cat and says "Tell me your troubles." And it was so comforting. So, the show ended and I came home and scrubbed the kitchen floor Cinderella-style cause I just don't think swiffer's gonna do the job this week. It was disgusting. Four buckets of black water.

And then I took a shower and ate ice cream. And now I have to go to bed, because, yes. There's jujitsu in the morning, and a show in the afternoon and then more jujitsu in the evening, and Andrew leaves for England. I'm so jealous. I want to go to England. I miss it.

But in summary, the highlight of Friday was praying with Anissa for all our friends. And the highlight today was playing with swords, specifically blocking Cyrus' attack, and turning the blade inward (so if it had been real, it would have cut him), disarming him, and then having him demonstrate with his fingers what his guts would look like as they are falling out. With a big grin on his face. As if he's happy his imaginary guts are falling out.

On that note, good night, and sweet dreams.

letting the leash out a little

I normally keep my mind occupied because I know sometimes it can be dangerous letting it run loose. Tonight I'm going all over the place... though I do have a leash. Its going to be the first blog entry in a while that really goes deep inside me.

Someone suggested to me that I'm not over him yet. Which I disagree with. But she's entitled to her opinion. I just don't think that she is basing her opinion on fact, because, she doesn't have all the facts, because I have some inside me that no one knows about.

I've never known a greater pain than when we broke up. I was suddenly empty, like having my arm cut off. We'd been together so long that I couldn't remember a time when he wasn't there. But when arms are cut off, there's usually a reason, such as infection beyond repair. I know there is a reason we were together, and a reason we're not now. And the only pain I have is in my memories. There's no more pain in my heart. Only fear of more pain, which is why I'm trying to protect myself. So in that sense, no. I'm over the pain of losing him, but not the fear of losing him. Or someone like him.

I've said all that before I think, right here in my blog. And I've mentioned Momiji, the character from FruitsBasket, whose mother had her memories erased, and who said that even his bad memories were worth keeping because they influenced his life. Of all possible outcomes that I could have relating to him, the one thing I don't want is for me to waste all the knowledge I gained by dating him. And I realized that tonight. And that made me realize that right now, as is, I'm wasting some of the knowledge. And so, there are things I have to do and people I have to talk to, because not doing that is like erasing my memory of it ever happening. And I can't do that because its like the country song where the girl keeps a box of memories of all the guys she's dated not because she isn't satisfied with the current guy but because they each helped shape her into who she is today and she has to remember all the trials and triumphs and mistakes involved in getting her to where she is.

So, I'm sorry we don't talk anymore because you(1) helped me get to where I am, and we learned together and I hope you got something out of it too. And I won't try to erase your(1) memory. And, after your(2) test tomorrow, we should talk. Its nothing you(2) would consider bad. But I don't want to waste this knowledge I've been given. It elimitates the pain and joy I went through to get it, and it deprives you(2) of something special too. So... lets talk sometime. I think we'll be glad we did.

Sigh, on a new topic, when you're feeling a little down, there's nothing like a kitten to come and chew on your shirt and cheer you up.

thoughts to ponder

Have you ever wondered why animals have tails? I mean, humans don't have tails, so its not like tails are completely necessary to survival on earth. But now that my roommate has a cat, I've discovered the reason God played pin the tail on the donkey with his critters. Did you ever find yourself sitting on the windowsill watching the birds and cars pass by, wishing you could stalk them? And then suddenly, you just have this urge. "I want to stalk something. Anything. And this window on the second floor is keeping me from all those pigeons on the roof next door. Ooooh I wish I could grab one of those pigeons and gnaw on its head." But there are no pigeons you can reach. And there are no bottle caps, tin foil balls, paperclips, strings, ribbons, phone wires, curtains, hair, or feet that you can attack either. But lookie there, God gave you a tail. A built in playtoy! GREAT!

I think the reason God kept the tails off the humans is so we wouldn't chase our tails and would be forced to make our own enjoyment. So we made computers. Go figure.

plug

Ok so I have to advertise. I'm working on a show called The Shape of Things, and everyone should come see it at the Jameson theater. There is a free preview on Tuesday night at 8 pm. Shows are Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday at 8 pm, Saturday and Sunday at 2 pm. Tickets are discounted for students but I can't remember by how much. But for general admission, its no more than $10. The show is good, I liked it when I saw the runthrough, and Jameson always has some pretty good shows. But if you go, you won't see me till afterwards cause I'll be in the back dungeon electrocuting myself. Or patching electricity through to the lights. And the cool thing is I get to wear a headset. Yay! To get there, drive towards Douglass on George Street. Make a right onto Jones (by the Jameson dorms.) Find a parking spot wherever you can. The theater is in the basement of the end dorm (Jameson D) Ask me if you need more detailed directions.

quickie

Ok so i haven't really given an update on what's going on lately. Most of its been stupid stuff like okcupid. I'm the stage manager for a musical called Working, at the Livingston theater company. I've been keeping busy. And for a theater class, I have to be on the crew for a Mason Gross show. So I'm doing two shows at once and I think I'm insane. The MG show i get to have a headset and basically patch the electricity in to the lights when they need it so we don't blow a fuse. Its fun. But I sit in a little room for the whole show basically. So I have a lot of time to do homework. We had 11 hours of rehearsal today. Another 11 tomorrow. And a fire extinguisher fell on my ankle yesterday. And I bought fitted sheets at Walmart instead of flat. Silly me. Now I have to return them. And Brittany's bike, which I am borrowing, stopped holding its gears. Now when you bike, you can jump from 2nd to 5th without intending to. Andrew says its easy to fix. And that's pretty much an update on my life. You can see why I don't update very often and have to supplement it with OKStupid. Its late. Good night.

Scared

Like... halloween scared. Okcupid again... I know, I should probably get therapy for this. But I noticed that a ton of people on Okcupid were taking a test called "Are you ready for children?" I thought "Of course I'm not ready for children" and went on to another one. But it kept popping up so finally I decided to see why everyone was taking it. It asked me really important questions, like do I own a house, have a steady income, know how to change a diaper, etc. Most of which I answered in such a way that might suggest to me, I'm not ready. But, end result... "Probably Ready" I scored 65%, which in school terms isn't good, but still passes. " Wow, you could actually be pregnant. You might have some things left to learn, but I'm sure you'll do fine!" whoever made that test would make a great horror filmmaker. I'm all ready for halloween cause I've got my are you ready for children test right here in my goodybag. Whoever made that test is insane. I just had to rant. I'm gonna go now. Bye

ughh

So... I went to bed last night at 3:30. I was planning on sleeping till 11:30. A decent, 8 hours of sleep. I woke up at 1 pm and realized, not only did I set my alarm for 11:30 PM rather than am, I've also slept through half of class. I stay in bed thinking and praying about something that a friend from home emailed me last night. Then I get up and realize that the apple cider I accidentally left in the microwave last night was poured down the sink by my roommate, which is understandable because it was out all night, but also frustrating because I hate wasting food, especially apple cider which is sooo good. So I was kind of mad at myself. Then I realized I'm standing on some sort of gross mess on the kitchen floor, which reminded me that my roommates and I still don't have chore assignments, and some of our dishes have disappeared, one of which doesn't belong to me, so I have to try and figure out where it went. Then I talked to Anissa and she cheered me up a lot by sending me a song in which the singer wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and one of the bad things that happens is that they are pulled over for going 85 in as 55. So it made me realize that things for me could be worse. So I'm having a pajama day and taking okcupid tests. According to a Harvard study (why Harvard puts their tests on okcupid is beyond me) I'll be dead by October 2068, at the age of 84.3. But look on the bright side, I will have lived 7.2 years longer than my life expectancy. Its 54% probable that the cause of death will be heart attack. But, it could also be car accident (24%), loneliness (13%), drowning of the lungs (5%). Anyway... for some reason that cheered me up. And now that I've spent the whole day in pajamas, with a pretty kitten sleeping next to me, and a sandalwood candle burning, I feel a lot better.

modern dance

You: Hey, Meghan how's it going?
Me: Oh hey, yeah good to see you.
You: How've you been? How's modern dance going?
Me: Oh, its going.
You: Yeah, more seafood shapes?
Me: Well, today we didn't focus so much on the marine biology crap, but she did mention it.
You: Heehee your teacher must be so funny
Me: Yeah, she's crazy.
You: Can you describe her today in one sentence or catchphrase?
Me: Yakko Wakko and Dot on crack.
You: They aren't already on crack?
Me: Not compared to her today.

i wonder

I mailed a secret to postsecret.com because seeing other people's secrets makes me wonder if its invigorating to get the whole thing off your chest. A batch of new secrets is posted every Sunday, so now I can't wait. I wonder if mine will be there, and if so, how will I react? Will I tell anyone here? Or will I keep it quiet, knowing that now that I've sent it, I can move past it, ragardless of who knows?

sigh

I'm not feeling so great. Physically I'm mending from a cold or allergies or sinus infection or whatever it was, I'm mending from jujitsu and dance, in which I feel like my body is just going to fall apart most of the time, and I'm mending from feminine crap. You know... sorry guys who read this but this is my blog and I'm not in the mood to censor it. Being female can be such an annoyance sometimes. I did the Tour de Rutgers on Sunday with my period and cramps. It was an enjoyable bike ride, it would have been twice as good if I didn't have a constant reminder that I'm female and of child-bearing age.

But I really wanted to write about inside. I'm not feeling so great in there. My self esteem has dropped for some reason. I don't know why. I don't respect myself anymore. In group settings, I've been closing myself off. But when I'm alone, its too quiet in the room. I have to have my music on a lot, so I won't convince myself of something that isn't true just by thinking.

I've wondered if its not just me, being worn down by school. I've been taking classes since the end of January, with the exception of two weeks in May and two weeks in August. For a breif minute the other day, I wished I would develop mono, so I could take the semester off, and spend a lot of time lying in bed figuring my life out. Or maybe its figuring out why God has me here. Or getting things straight with Him.

And then for a brief moment today, I thought about all those people I learned about in General Psych, who one day, just got up and left town, moved to another place hundreds of miles away and lived for a few months under another identity. For a minute, I envied them. I wouldn't want to be gone forever though... and that's the thing about these people. They leave, but something like 98% of them come back within a year.

Don't anybody get worried. These are all passing thoughts. Its nothing I would seriously consider. Its just that sometimes... its an appealing thought.

...

O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down;you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD. You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you. [...] Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

~Psalms, chapter 139


Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.

~1 John, chapter 3, verses 18-20


When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

~Luke, chapter 7, verses 37-38