My Ideal Man

It's been weird lately. I don't know. I've been emotional and confused and generally messed up by this God-forsaken sickness that just won't leave me the fuck alone.

Back to Air-Born and Emergen-C I guess.

Anyway. My emotions have been taking their toll lately - I'm tired and pissy and generally defeated. Which is not a good way to go through life. So I'm working on not being those things and focusing my energy on being happy and maybe just a little bit productive.

I had my first rehearsal for The Pillowman last night. It's gonna be a great show. I'm so, so excited. The work that I've put in already is astounding. Jenna, the director, is really putting me through my paces; making me think and move in new, foreign, sometimes uncomfortable ways. It's so good for me.

I've been debating whether or not to write about this, but it's such an essential part of my life. I hate the way I am around guys. It's generally pathetic and cold and aloof and scared. I don't know how to approach them, I don't know how to behave around them. I'm a fish out of water, flailing my way towards dry death. It's bad. Real bad. And I'm not sure how to work on it. Whitney? Whitney, you wanna offer me some sage advice so that your Mommy can bring the girls home a new Daddy?

Here's the what's what.

I am sick. Not swine-flu sick, thankfully, but sick nonetheless. It's not so debilitating that I can't go to class, but it does make me a wee bit loopy.

I auditioned for three shows. I heard nothing back from one, got a callback for the second, and am in the third. Which is exciting! But the audition process is still painful. When you give your all and it's just not what the director was looking for, it smarts. It's very hard not to take it personally. But you live with it and eventually, eventually it's fine.

Anyway. I'm in The Pillowman. Which is a great play, a favorite of mine, really. If you haven't seen or read the play, my part will be somewhat weird to have explained, but I'll give it my best college try. So, this writer, Katurian, lives in a dystopian society. He's arrested because a series of grisly child murders echo his stories. Throughout the play, his stories are presented to the audience. I'll act them out through movement along with three other actors.

Okay. I dropped my elective. The political satire performance composition. Not enough time, too much work, now I can sleep in which to me means sleeping until 7 instead of 6.

I'm selling things on eBay in lieu of a job. Not enough time, too much work, sleeping in till 7.

What's up with yous guys? Anything new or good or bad or just plain boring?

What a Day, What a Day

Firstly, I saw/touched/photographed Anna Wintour tonight.

Secondly, I am allowing myself to make this a semi-fashion blog. Not a full one, but a semi one. Fashion is such a great component of my life that leaving it out would be dishonest.

Thirdly, Michael Chabon is God's gift to readers. If I ever have that mythical first big paycheck, I'm going to a tailor and having this made: "The jacket was the color of the sky over Prague Castle on a clear winter night. The trousers were also a glossy, coal-dark blue, piped with a bright gold stripe. And affixed to one of the satiny black lapels was a small golden pin in the shape of a skeleton key." How fucking beautiful is that shit?

Fourthly, studio was great. My new section is perfection - I am so pleased with the way things turned out. This semester is going to consist of Voice (singing! Yeep!), Afro-Haitian Dance, and Meisner. It's so amazing. If any of you have the opportunity to come out here, you have to sit in on a class.

Fifthly, I love Political Satire. It's gonna challenge me, terrify me, force me to be uncomfortable. Which makes it a perfect course.

Sixthly, I'm very excited for Gay and Lesbian Performance Studies and Theatre in Indonesia. They sound tremendously interesting and will provide enough work to keep me occupied.

Finally (seventhly), I miss you all, but am very happy and am hoping you all feel the same.

Post-Script (eighthly), thank you, Nick, for commenting. You others have a lot to live up to and so far you're about as good as shit when it comes to commenting. Leave me something to read, to look forward to at the end of a long day, Fuckers. I love you. :)

School School School

Yesterday was my first day of real college classes. I'm not sure how I feel about them as of yet. I think I'll love them, once I've stopped being terrified of them. It's a wee bit intimidating to work with upperclassman whom you had admired (read: stalked on Facebook) last year. It's also intimidating to take a Political Satire Course wherein you are required to sing. Every Tuesday and Thursday. In front of said Facebook stalkees. When you are not a singer.

The class itself is quite fun already though. At the end of the term, we'll be putting on a Political Satire cabaret, which would look quite nice ensconced on my résumé so maybe that'll make up for shitting my pants on a Tues/Thurs basis.

I'm also taking Theatre in Indonesia and (hopefully; I'm still waitlisted at this point) Gay and Lesbian Performance Studies. I feel I'm maybe just a bit predictable. But that's all right; this course load will be great.

Studio starts today. Like in an hour. I'm so ready to be back in it. I don't know, it's such an indescribable feeling, being there. Which would make sense, because so much of what we learn comes from a nonverbal place.

Also, I apologize for my lack of photos this post. Bennie runs on double-A batteries and I was too lazy and poor to go out and buy a new pair.

Okay, I should get ready. I would say wish me luck, but failing is just as good as succeeding.

!!!

So I bought a camera today. His name is Benicio Del Toro (I don't particularly like the actor, the name just felt right) and he is beautiful. He's a Canon Powershot SX120 and my sister recommended him to me. What a beaut.

Anyway, he's totally handy - now I can actually photo-document my life. So you can see how boring it is on celluloid as well as words (actually, it's digital, so I guess you're witnessing it through the magic of fiber optics and other scientific what-have-you nonsense).

So I started by taking a picture of him (with me in the background). He's pretty, no? And he takes such good photos. I'm technologically inept (this blog is quite a feat to me), but like foundation on acne-scarred skin, he hides all of my blemishes. God bless his little electronic heart.

Anyway, I have much to show you. My room is almost as beautiful as The Bull (that's Benicio's nickname, as is Bennie) and I have proof. PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF WHAT? Behold its roomy glory:

It's pretty great, as you can see (ha!). I shouldn't be this proud, but it's such an accomplishment for me.

Anyway, I'm making new friends, which is great, because as some of you know, I had some problems with a few of my older friends being unreliable and whatnot. It seems that these new folk are bit more dependable, which is completely welcomed.

I can't think of anything particularly profound to say, so I'll leave it at this: I am happy (for now? forever, hopefully) and that is what counts.

Oh, and here is an obligatory IHAVEACAMERANOWI'LLTAKEAPHOTOOFMYSELFINTHEMIRROR photo:

Post-Script: Please join blogspot so you can comment. They'll keep me going when I think no one is reading.

Post-Post-Script: Since I am technologically inept (as mentioned above), this post is ugly and the photos are not in a horizontal row. But I'm proud that there are any photos. :)

So after that melodramatic last post, I'm already settled in. The new room isn't quite home yet, but it's certainly on its way.

I'm excited to be back, thrilled even. Soho is so beautiful, and I'm right on the edge of China Town and Little Italy, too (perfect, right?). There's so much to do, it's almost overwhelming. Last night, while with some friends in a different dorm, I met four foreign exchange students and we had an accidental cookie party. It was quite nice, really.

I can't exactly recall what I've done in the past few days though ... A day here lasts for three elsewhere. It's crazy what can be accomplished, or not accomplished, for that matter. I'm trying to start a regular exercise regimen as well as eating healthfully, not because I feel fat, but because I want to be in shape.

I think this always happens with the advent of the new school year. It's like I feel some obligation to better myself, like it's necessitated by my circumstances. But this time, I want to make it stick. And I can; I have everything I need to do it within my reach, so why not?

Plus, when I'm all taut skin and toned muscle, the boys will practically be throwing themselves at my feet. Okay, so that's another thing about New York. We have no lack of good-looking men. Or women, but men are the ones that matter.

One thing should really be mentioned. It's hard to verbalize this, so bear with me. Over the summer, things (ahhh, to be young and vague in New York City) really crystallized for me. I found myself understanding my wants and my needs. It wasn't like a lightbulb moment, where everything became clear; rather, it was gradual, and unconscious. I wasn't actively sorting things out so much as letting it happen and not resisting.

Among those things, and a particularly important one to me, is how I'm perceived by others. I've stopped (maybe not fully, but much more so than before) worrying about the image I outwardly project and am secure in it. This is of course quite helpful in talking to people, boys especially. But I've also come not to expect things from boys, or anyone for that matter - not to place preemptive expectations on others that could potentially let me down.

So for now, I'm enjoying my free time, with or without others, not expecting anything from anyone except only the best from myself. And I can honestly say that I'm happy, in a quiet sort of way.