Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Miles and Miles

To be honest, this probably won't be a very interesting one.

It's kind of a shame, because this really has been one of the greatest years of my life; however I summed it up best in the letter I sent to the nine million people I've met this year.

But all I've done during this holiday is spend some very valuable time with the people whom I love and sleep an embarrassing amount of hours per night and solve a monstrous amount of Sudoku puzzles. And all I'm going to do for the rest of the holiday is spend more valuable time with the people whom I love and go to a funeral and wait to move out again and dance the night away and solve even more Sudoku puzzles.

It's easy to sum up my life by only looking at the present and recent past. It's even easier to put myself in the boxes that I see myself belonging in. What is hard is avoiding impending laziness.

But Williamston has caught on fire a total of three times over this holiday. At least I have my home town to interest me.

It has been a marvelous 2008.


Thursday, December 18, 2008

Weary is the World

I desperately needed to leave the house this morning, be it because of the constant symphony of birds-hitting-windows that was driving me crazy or perhaps the mere fact that I needed groceries. Henceforth, I attempted to spice up my life by writing my shopping list in Irish, brewed some rather weak tea, and set off.

But at a busy, Christmas-infested Wal-Mart, upon feeling my own sunken face as if it were composed of so much melted wax, I noticed the rest of the world. I noticed all of the tired, weary faces around me and couldn't help but think that nobody really wants to celebrate the season; nobody wants Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, holidays. Nobody. We only do it for the children.

So upon leaving the store, I sheepishly crammed a crumpled dollar into the Salvation Army bucket in a pathetic attempt to salvage any holiday spirit left in the atmosphere. Upon witnessing this awkward demonstration, the bell ringer, probably the most kind and polite soul I will encounter today, asked God to bless me and sent me on my way. And I pitifully fa-la-la-ed my way to the car, serenaded all the way by a screaming, crying child that we are doing all of this for.

An hour later, after checking half of an item off of my List of Things to Do Before I Die, I returned home.


Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Stance on a Pumpkin

For once in my life, I decided subconsciously to do something innocent. I thought I'd be neat and tidy and chuck the rotten obnoxiously-decorated Halloween pumpkin into the woods; the one that has been sitting next to the coffee pot in my dorm room for a month and a half.

So I made it easy on myself.

Despite the blizzard, I slipped on some flip flops and leukophobia-minimizing sunglasses (hah) and burst out the back door with my All-American rejects t-shirt on and freshly straightened hair, pumpkin in hand. I trudged through the snow, toes exposed, and threw that little pumpkin towards the "rape trail" and made my way to the front door of Holmes Hall.

Now usually when I dress myself, according to my father, it's more like putting on a costume. And usually, I do this consciously and proudly. And usually, I do it because it's part of my...loud personality.

But I was just in a t-shirt and flip flops and sunglasses, just taking care of the pumpkin corpse, just making my way back to the dorm. I wasn't cold, because cold is a learned behavior.

But I guess a girl just can't wear a t-shirt in December without people thinking that she's making a political statement.

"Honey, you know it's winter, right? Just putting that out there..."

So they subconsciously encouraged me. So I did pull out my strut. So I did pretend I was making some sort of ludicrous statement.

You know why?

Because I am an actress who has been denied a theatrical stage for almost four months.

My stage is this dorm, my script is my life, and I am my own director.


Monday, November 24, 2008

Love in Seven Dimensions

Snow has decided to fall again, but it wouldn't be the first time. Honestly, I think it's lovely. It makes me viciously yearn to jump on a trampoline and dance with it floating all around me, but I'll have to wait a few days for that. For now, I'll just listen to some Kenny G and Vince Guaraldi and watch the snow fall from the cafeteria window, thinking about how it's Thanksgiving week and I don't have any lab to go to.

College is lovely.

Where else can somebody prance about the halls at half twelve in the morning with a guitar and an obnoxiously loud voice while serenading whoever hears with a ridiculous song about being the town floozy? Yes I, the Little Lemon Tart of downtown Baltimore, was out and about Saturday night while Nick was ready with the video camera and Kim tried to warn me before I ran myself into a door frame. We were out doing the Alligator-Blackbird-Mashed Potato-Pizza-Ten O'Clock-Two O'Clock-Egyptian Cotton. We were zooming in on the Lyman Briggs College logo.

Who comes up with this?

Having this much fun should be illegal; it's got to be. But that wouldn't stop us for a second.

I guess this is the only way we stay sane: being insane.

Oh, and for a side-note: I shall be singing sweetly soon, and I shall be acting passionately soon, and I shall be soaring quickly back "home" to Ireland, God-willing...I shall be quite alive indeed.


Thursday, November 06, 2008

Summary of a Month: Confetti Style

First and foremost: I am SO glad that this election is over.

But I voted. :]

Calculus makes me feel just as intelligent as Chemistry makes me feel incompetent.

Liam has an ATTITUDE. But he gets it from his mum, and I'm proud of my baby fish.

I keep on singing songs in Irish just because I find it magnificent that the pronunciations have absolutely nothing in common with the actual spelling of the words.

I very much enjoy going line dancing at Whiskey Barrel. Very much. :]

I have learned how to navigate Kalamazoo, crazy one-way streets and all.

Knee socks. Argyle knee socks.

Turns out, swimming a kilo or an eight-four-two-one hundred plus two fifties set is not impossible and gives me more glorious endorphins than I know how to handle.

I am so sick of everyday being a "preparation" for something in the future. Childhood was preparation for Elementary. Elementary was preparation for Jr High. Jr High was preparation for High School. High School was preparation for college. College is supposed to be preparation for a job.

But actually this is all said just to distract us from life which is happening right now; it's not something you wait for. It's happening. Live. Frickin'. Life.

That's what I do.


Friday, October 24, 2008

Two Dimensional and No More

I've decided that life in two dimensions would be simple and lovely. With my newly-acquired extra time, I chose not to study for my upcoming Calculus II exam for now or wash dishes, or do anything that a big-girl such as myself should be doing; however, I spent the better part of my afternoon viewing Charlie Brown specials while sprawled out on the futon.

This brings me back to last fall around this time of year when I was a character from a Charlie Brown story. Life upon that stage was most definitely two-dimensional; life in this college is not even that. Life in college is meaningless and dull, for the most part. Life in Charlie Brown's world seemed meaningless at times, and maybe "it all just seemed so futile", but by the end of the special his friends would have confirmed that he was, indeed, "a good man". Then, together, they found "happiness".

I can't tell if I just miss the stage or if I'm looking for something completely different all together.

Probably a mixture of the two.

But for now, I'll stare at the raindrops splattered on my window and light a candle and listen to some premature Christmas jazz from the Charlie Brown Christmas special. Then I think I might spend some quality time with two of my very dearest friends, and savor it. Because I know I'm looking for more than this. I need to start savoring moments lest life pass me by entirely...absolutely entirely.


Sunday, October 12, 2008

People Will

Seven days and still no post until now. Earth-shattering, is it not? :]

Chock-full week, though. Really. Minimal stress regarding lab reports, but also minimal motivation to accomplish much else. Come to think of it, probably one of the most fun things I've done all week is work, which is pathetic and a little unsettling. Seems to me that the people that make me smile the biggest are located in the cafeteria, but then I think a little harder and that's all negated.

Because on Friday, Erin and Amy and I decided to enrich our silly lives with an ice cream trip and then parking ourselves on the lawn outside West Holmes and basking in the sun and making head dresses out of grass and listening to the Across the Universe soundtrack on Erin's phone. That's all that mattered. Just us and the October sky and leaves and grass and "all you need is love".

That night, for the first time in my history, I ventured out to a dance club with the community theatre chaps. Quite legit, but I could have done with a little more dancing and a little less...provocative nincompoopery from the ladies, so to speak? But things were a-okay in the club and I'm glad for the friends I've got; very glad indeed. :]

Earlier in the week, though, lots of things came together.

Like how all of my friends are unhappy and I, supposedly, am doing quite fine.

But Wednesday after seeing Alan and Carole Cullen, all I could think about was Ireland. I have been making every excuse in my mind to go back in a heartbeat, because I absolutely would. But would I? Everything I wanted is here in college. Or is it?

I spent my entire high school career planning my college career and now I don't care about it anymore; all I care about is what is happening in Galway. I've lost all motivation here as an Astrophysics major and I'm just floating in a world of insignificance because of it. Just...I know in the very deepest part of me that I could be so significant if...if I could abandon everything and go back.

Things might mean something again. Everything was replete with meaning. I survived on prayer. I survived on prayer. I thrived with every street performance. I could use my talents for...for good. For better...for freedom.

Or perhaps I am crazy; no such thoughts exist in my mind; I've imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I can't tell between real ambitions and faulty emotions because I spend half of my time imagining life and the other half of my time living life. It cannot be that way; I have imagined enough. I want something to be genuine; I want a life that matters.

The thing is, God is moving Ireland like He has never moved it before, and I cannot stay here and be content with praying from the sidelines.

I have to go back.


Sunday, October 05, 2008

The Big One-Eight.

The project is draining me but it's my birthday present to myself.

But then my birthday pulled a Christmas, and I don't know why.

It probably feels that way because the old ones ditch and the new ones dote? Perhaps. No hostility here, just nodding and taking.

On the up side, I did blow out all of my candles in one breath. That's because I'm magnificent.


Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Pretty Exclusive

I know I have nothing of substance to talk about, because I'm spreading myself ocean-wide and inch-deep. There's no room for being profound or thought-provoking here, as I thought there might be. That's because everything is still so new and I've realized that I'll never be used to it because by the time this feels like normalcy, it will be time to go back home for the summer.

But college is supposed to make you think about things more applicable than Lewis Dot Diagrams or what happens if you line up a plano-convex lens with a mirror and shoot a beam of parallel light through. I think, though, that everything will develop into something deeper since my only non-science-or-math class starts next Tuesday.

But for now, the only nice thing I can do for myself is make my room smell like autumn; pumpkin and Chai lattes. And minor in theatre. And go to the basement where there's a piano and let my fingers compose a forty-five minute ballad for me. And break out the old black blazer coat. And calm down.


Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Killing Time While It's Killing Me

I have realized that there is little I enjoy more than walking around campus by my lonesome. Sounds strange, but it's actually quite true. Sure, I like to spend vast amounts of quality time with the people with whom I share my existence, but really all I wish for is a blue sky against ripening leaves set to bake at 350 degrees for two hours with a little Regina Spektor.

So to speak.

Henceforth, I am going out now; perhaps wishing for someone to accompany me, but knowing that this is a journey that would most prudently be made alone.

As I mentioned in a similar medium, "shopping for enlightenment".

Will be back shortly.


Monday, September 15, 2008


It is refreshing to be able to spend time with people after extended periods of, well, just Facebook. Lovely evenings, lovely afternoons like such are so much more valued now that I'm out. I never realized how much I missed some people, some things until I left them.

Now. I'm extremely lucky, because the vast majority of said things are fifteen minutes down Grand River Avenue.

But I'm not avoiding my home town like the Black Plague as I thought I might.


What else?

Oh, classes are legit I suppose. My schedule goes from hectic to boring in a matter of seconds. I've eaten a ton of hummus and ice cream. Not mixed, of course, but maybe I'll try that just to add spice to my life. Movie nights are, like, the most exciting thing that can happen. That and study groups, which incidentally turn out to be huge laugh-fests of intelligence.

So I'm just chill. People keep asking me, and I keep telling them. I like it here.


And on another note...

Just not abandon me. Please don't.


Sunday, September 07, 2008

Consciousness in Tow

Here I sit, two guitars to my rear and flute in lap, staring into the plastic and lifeless eyes of Mr. Edgar Allan Poe as I type the symphonies my life has composed once more.

So those of you who actually read and follow this nonsensical shite, listen up.

College is an excellent diversion. I have found myself searching for the melancholy because it hasn't been handed to me on a silver platter, as I am accustomed to. Rephrase: nothing here is wrong; if I want anything to be wrong I have to find it myself.

That's a silly thing to say.

I've realized that I require myself, for better or for worse, to be fighting some sort of internal battle constantly because that is how I thrive. There is most likely a technical term for that, but since the title escapes me I'll assume this one: I'm a girl posessed, for lack of a better phrase. At home, I fight. Here, I'm feeling a touch empty because there's nothing deep to conquer; no demons to will away or tears to dry.

It rocks. It's strange.

I owe it all to Chemistry. I owe it all to Physics. I owe it all to Calculus.

I owe it all to Miss Monroy, Miss Soronen, Miss Butler, Mr Przytulski.

I owe it all to Miss Fedewa, Miss Sierzega, Miss Shipman.

I owe it all to diversion.

Diversion is here in college; diversion is what I thought I wanted. Now I have it, and I wonder where the sorrow went. It isn't negative now, it's just different. In a previous existence where there would always be some dark matter to keep at bay, it's strange to plunge into a place where such things are minimal or absent.

Starting fresh.

It's wonderful, but what is the value of a fighting spirit with nothing to fight? Or, perhaps, it is only the theatrical spirit that has convinced itself that it is a fighting spirit. Either way, college is diverting; diversion is confusion.

I wonder how it got to be 1AM so quickly.


Thursday, August 28, 2008

No Yesterday, Just Tomorrow

Sometimes I hate my job but other times, my job is the only reason I'm sane. Take today, for instance.

I had a stomach knot the size of an orange in my side during Chem lab (which happened to be boring to the zillionth degree) and all I wanted was ramen noodles. That's college, I guess. So I made myself some ramen and ate one of the brownies that my sisters made and watched the rest of Annie. I'm so jealous. It's my dream to be in that musical. I was a little dilerious too, I'll admit.

So a nap was a good idea, but it was more of a half-asleep confusion which became intensified when I laid on my side for too long and my lung got squished. It really sucks when that happens. Really. Or maybe it was my heart being crushed between my lungs. It doesn't's just painful whatever it is.

But I had to wake up and go to work. Lucky for me, it was at a sandwich counter with a girl named Alaena and a supervisor named Mike, who happens to be completely badass. Things looked up a little.

"Look at my girl go; I'm so proud of you!"

Looking back, that's all the pick-up I needed. I just wasn't feeling good before; I was only existing and floating in a world where I'm a number, a face, a nobody at this point. But this is college where the little things mean everything and everything means very little, so I take what I can get and run; I survive.


Friday, August 22, 2008

College and Self

An update is due, but don't expect much.

I am currently living on the campus of Michigan State University, a fine establishment indeed. It's lovely, it's new, it's mine.

It's also strange. I am so looking forward to getting classes started because at the moment I'm stuck in a weird void between 'home mentality' and 'summer camp mentality'. I don't feel like I'll be living with these people for the next year. I'm content with taking them at face value. After all, I'll be back in Williamston soon, right?

Hah. Oh, hell no.

I look around and my alarm clock is here in 116 West Holmes. My laptop is here. My pictures are here. My Edgar Allan Poe bobble-head is here. I'm home, and I don't know it because it's only been six days, but I like it here.

I like being home. I feel nothing else.


Saturday, August 16, 2008

Honesty From a Chimichanga

Today is technically the last day living fully in my parents' house and I'm in love with this concept. Finally, I am about to taste the freedom I've been yearning for, be it equivalent or different from the way I have pictured it. I have siphoned out of my room most of my material posessions and have made it quite clear that I intend to...oh for crying out loud. I sound like a liberated, bombastic buffoon.

But I am. :]

I have, however, been thinking a little. I think I might leave my past behind me now and start fresh. It sounds cliche, but I am determined to find enlightenment and closure. This is the blank script to which I am allowed to write my own magnificent play. Why should I stick to every little detail that I have planned thus far? I should know by now that making plans is futile; the more I make, the more obstacles blockade my intended path.

So really, being an Astrophysics major just makes me sound intelligent. I am intelligent, but I know where my heart really lies. I am an Astrophysics major because I refuse to abandon my intellect or desire to learn. I am an Astrophysics major because I want the sky. I want to understand it; I want to explore it and feel its majesty. I want to solve its mysteries. I want to have the ability to wrap my mind around what others cannot, and then take comfort in teaching and explaining.

But then heart lies on stage. I am an actress because I am always happy while portraying somebody else. I am an actress because I feed upon the energy of an audience. I am an actress because I am damn good at it. I want freedom and I find it there.

There is no reason why I cannot do both. I intend to do both. Astrophysics for a carreer, theatre for the ecstasy. Pulling double-shifts have worked so far, but truth be told? My grand scheme is nothing compared to what my life will actually be. If I have to abandon these precious ambitions to an extent, I will be just fine. To be honest, I'd be content living alone in the country, city, suburbs. I'd be happy staying in any place with a theatre down the road and a million stars at night. After all, that's all I wanted in the first place.

As for plans? Rubbish. I have ideas now, not plans. My idea is this: I'll dance to the music that my life composes, improvising the entire time.


Sunday, August 10, 2008

Rat Poison for Dinner

So we closed Joseph last night and like any show, it's bittersweet of course. It was probably one of the most fun shows I've ever done, and I'll miss the cast immensely. Hopefully, we'll keep in touch. :]

This morning, to add a cherry to the suckfest sundae of my futile existence, my car died. Like, DIED. It was so dead that the gauges wouldn't even hold their own needle-weight. So I called my dad. Seven times. When those attempts failed, I resorted to pleading mercy and help from one of the neighbor's painters, Melanie (who by the way is a total badass since I don't know jack squat about fixing cars). However, jumper cables didn't conquer this one until dad came home with the Cadillac.

I went to strike the set shortly after having my car revived and Miss Elizabeth Barry pointed out that, indeed, my head and tail lights were on. Henceforth, sometime driving home last night, I flipped on the light switch while trying to engage the turn signal or brights. This, apart from being embarassing because I'm a moron, is relaxing because it means that my adorable moody bastard of a car wasn't being so random afterall. Thank you much, Miss Barry. :]

Nothing to do now but wait for my voice to heal. I move out in T-minus seven days...and life is life.


Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Failure Sauce

Evidently Barack Obama came to Lansing yesterday. For obvious reasons, I stayed away from the city but watched his speech on television. It was, for lack of a better word, enlightening. He presented several bold and ambitious ideas that sound wonderful and extremely attractive to Michigan citizens especially, but again I ask: How will you do it? Campaign speeches are silly. They focus on how the opponent will negatively impact the country; they only point fingers. Of course, McCain is no angel either. This is the most important election in a long time, and I can't bring myself to register for it. I probably won't be able to anyway, so needless to say I'm not losing sleep over it.

Today I got stuck behind a funeral procession in Williamston. I can only assume that it is for the young adult who was shot to death in the trailer park a couple of weeks ago, but it's the only time, minus homecoming, that there is a legitimate reason for a traffic jam here. Almost right as the procession commenced, a song came on the radio with lyrics that sang: "We've been killing off our friends". I found it melancholy and appropriate.

Life's cruel ironies are lurking.


Friday, August 01, 2008


My journal has been grotesquely oblivious to my life and thoughts, which is another way of saying that it has been grotesquely ignored for the last few days.

So here's the lowdown.

Got a job painting apartments and smelling ammonia all day. Hooray? :]

My script got Top Five in a national playwriting contest. Go me!

Rehearsals have been going until midnight.

Performances began tonight.

A screaming baby woke me up this morning.

I just downed an Ultimate Trio in record time and I feel ickysticky.

That's the basic outline. I've never been basic before, of course, so there's definitely more that I'm just too exhausted to type. That's okay. You'll live.


Thursday, July 24, 2008

Memory All Alone

Matthew (10:28PM): i saw your profile today and was like... omg i miss her and her slappin my ass sayin i dont have one...and her fishnets

...the good old days. :]


Monday, July 21, 2008

An Eye Roll


Positive Patty::Negative Nancy

I can't wait for school to begin::I've gotten apprehensive for no reason at all.

Here's hoping that the job pulls through::I have no idea how I will get there if it does.

I had the power to drive away::in order to invite more aimless wandering beneath the public eye.

I am reading and searching through books::just to prove how much I don't know.

I am growing up::maybe.

I am growing up::but where's the maturity part?

I am growing up::but can't shake the "worthless failure".

This all matters::very little.

...and here's to empty hearts, empty pockets, empty minds, empty schedules, empty thoughts, empty tears, empty nights, empty conversations...


Friday, July 18, 2008

Perfectly Large Thoughts

I am no fan of cleaning an already clean house, so I daresay I didn't exactly put my heart and soul into my dusting. However, as dust is afraid of my mum, it never shows itself here and that gives me all the more reason to slack. Also, vacuuming a floor in which the vacuum tracks are still clearly visible from the last time is, well, a complete waste of time.

I have been far too idle as of late. Of course, with the landscaping job done and the office job currently in the air, my only distraction is playing with my newly-attained laptop. I think it would be fitting to name him Rodriguez, so when I say that Rodriguez and I went to the coffee shop to download music, I won't seem like such a loser but rather an individual with quite the spicy social life. It is a win-win sitch, I think. :]

Reminds me of the time that Kellie called her garage "Raj", so she could say that she had been playing tennis against Raj. Hah. :]

Much to my delight, though, the fireflies have been going crazy lately, and every day when I'm driving home from rehearsal they decorate the roads, woods, fields...everywhere. It's like having a starry night on the ground, and I love it.


Sunday, July 13, 2008

Redeem and Mimic

You hold more sun than my poisoned skin
But never wither or die
You dance and sway with a whirring breeze
I watch you as I fly

Sorry...I'm speechless.


Tuesday, July 08, 2008

The Hippie Complex

I snuck outside so I could lay in the evening dew under the stars, but there weren't any and I returned inside.

Then I eyed the dictionary on the desk table and considered looking up the word "love" because I haven't the slightest idea what it is. But I decided against provoking a downward spiral of angsty thought patterns.

My stomach feels strangely and so do I.


Monday, July 07, 2008

No Leg Worth Burning

Currently I'm listening to my cousins play me some soothing Irish traditionals via iTunes and I'm mildly-to-extremely excited about it, despite the morose expression on my face.

Yes, dear chums, I have returned from holiday in Charlevoix and it was four days of complete and pure chaos as always. Ahem.

I managed to, within the first full day, get sun-poisoned so badly that I blacked out during the 4th of July parade. My skin, from chest down, is the color of, well, a pomegranite I suppose. It's either me being an idiot and forgetting about my incredibly tender skin, or karma because I burned a junebug with a lighter last week. Either way I'm doomed, kids. However, vinegar works more wonders than aloe in situations such as these. Good to know.

So don't mess with karma. And use sunscreen. Seriously.

But as I mentioned before, my cousins have created their own Celtic band and performed on the 4th of July in the city before the fireworks. They rocked, of course. Take a gander, if you will.

And Jenny, Abbey and I fancy laying on the dock at night to watch the stars and such. Around midnight or so last night, we saw the most amazing meteor brighten up the whole sky while it slowly burned in the atmosphere. It was the biggest, brightest, longest meteor that I have ever seen in my life and I almost wished that it hadn't burned completely and had rather landed in the lake or somewhere towards Petoskey...although it might've resulted in a tidal wave or inconveniently large crater. Such is life.

Because it is appropriate to burn one's old American flag after one replaces it with a new one on the flagpole, my cousins and I had a "flag-burning ceremony" at which we held hands and sang every patriotic song (tremendously off-key) while we watched the old, tattered flags melt away. Really, it's actually the way one is supposed to get rid of old flags, so I hear, but I'm about 100% sure that the neighbors think we're terrorists. Oh well.

I think I'll just sit here and anxiously await my future return to Ireland, whenever that may be.


Monday, June 30, 2008

Take Two

"...some doubled-over with our worldly pains..."

What a descriptive and full quote. It's amazing how much truth spills forth from this fragment of a Kacy Crowley song.

I can't explain why. If I did try, I'd just sound like a pity party and nobody likes that.

Simply this, though: we are doubled-over. There is so much to carry; there always has been for as long as I can remember now. How can we not be doubled-over? It's so heavy. It's all so heavy; mine and ours. It's all so strange and although it's so unfortunate, we find ourselves with so much junk that we don't need. In the midst of the poverty, we're living like kings and queens.

I'd trade it for stability, for happiness.


Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Some Kind of Syntax

In a final and inspired attempt to write something profound, here I am without a single thought-provoking word. And on top of that, the amount of pre-edited typos in the previous sentence surpasses any I've ever seen in my life, thanks to my suddenly neurologically challenged digits. Oh well.

So I love to stare at my reflection in the window because somehow a soft and dim outline of my features is so much more sexy and mysterious than anything I see in the mirror. My hair always looks better in a window. I wish I could figure out what to do with it tomorrow, though I suppose it doesn't matter. I have idiot orientation tomorrow and I severely doubt that anyone will be giving serious contemplation to my curly mane.

God, I wish it felt like summer. Instead it feels like a mix between a lonely pile of mulch and hysteria with a side of survival mode. What ever happened to running through the grass bare-footed with the sun kissing my back and closing my eyes and spinning around and falling in to cool eternity? Only it wasn't eternity. It was about five minutes, actually, when life felt like summer; life was as it should be. Summer is pure freedom. Without freedom, summer is only existence. And we're only existing.


Monday, June 16, 2008

Setting Sail

Guess what?
  • Dude. Last night I wrote my first guitar song. It sucks out loud. :]
  • All hell has broken loose because Mother Nature is officially in menopause.
  • I've finally pinpointed my own personal mentall illness...maybe. Either I'm totally loco en la cabeza or it's just PMS...but since there's an option I'm pretty sure it's just PMS. Go me, I guess. :]
  • I'm totally a legit puppeteer now, as of yesterday. Rock on!
  • Casey and I are finally learning how to dance; yay! And on that subject...
  • I saw our choreographer at Jessica's open house. Small, small world. :]
  • The forecast for the future is gloom and doom as people are already talking about The Greater Depression coming soon. How inconvenient; it comes at the exact time I need $6500. HAH! It's punishment for something, I know it. But then again, I'm being selfish; I'm not the only gal who needs cash. Who doesn't? :]
  • There might be dirt engraved into every showing nook and cranny of my skin because of my choice of summer labor, but on that subject...
  • I might turn out to be a cleaner, trim little Trainer Brat, or whatever they call us nowadays. Hooray!
  • I think I've gone a record amount of time without eating a single Rothbury Farms brand crouton. Cray to the zee, for sure.
  • I have to remember to buy a couple square acres of the moon so I can move there when The Greater Depression comes to kick my ass. Well, good thing I'm majoring in Astrophysics so I'll know exactly what to do!
  • Seriously. What's a girl to do? I guess I could sit in the middle of the road and shake my fist at The System, but figuratively that's exactly what I have been doing. Well, time to roll up my sleeves and fix it myself.


Monday, June 09, 2008

The Few Things That We Know

Introductory disclaimer: Mr Alec J.-I do hope that you will not file the following blog under "tacky" or "crass". I shall do my best to avoid using diction that would make it so. :]


So. In my foggy post-graduation days, I feel as if I have been floating in a void of, for lack of a better word, confusion. There are so many things that I have to do; there are so many bridges to cross that I haven't even made it to yet.

I asked Mr Dillon Lacina if he felt as if the summer after junior year was the last summer he'd ever have. He thought so, and so do I. All we had to worry about was senior year in the fall, and that was hardly a worry but rather a yearning to speed the clock and get to the glory. However, now I am stuck with my big-girl pants around my ankles, to put it bluntly, and I have yet to pull them up.

Late-blooming is normalcy for me, although I have done my utmost to hide it; there lies the big secret, everyone. I'm always late for growing up, in a real-world sense, and often feel as if I've missed something. Hence, I am caught in a "me-do" phase and end up screwing up, royally.

But much of the "me-do" is actually necessary. At this point, I actually am being thrust into the real world; I actually do have to fend for myself. It excites and frightens me simultaneously. However, with so much responsibility on my shoulders and so many things I would like to do this summer, I need help. I need it and I have gotten it and I am grateful for it.

Now all that remains is to take it, use it, and reap its benefits. It seems so tedious; so difficult...but I know that it isn't. In the ideal situation, which is what I'm aiming for, time will be gracious to me and give itself to me. I am always yearning for more time.

Sometimes, I am ill-equipped and I know that I hardly have a handle on anything at the moment, but all of this is just life; such is life and so it will be. So it has been and so it is, but in the words of Miss Kacy Crowley: "There's one last thing I need to get a handle on: People can love you and still do you wrong."

How right, oh how right she is. Perhaps when I am able to grasp the small matters of life and growing up, perhaps when I can finally get my big-girl pants on, then I will perhaps be able to get a handle on that one last thing.


Friday, May 30, 2008

Done Over and Done, My Dear.

Yes, indeed. High School is over. :]

It was truly a lovely ride.

I learned about so many things: studies.

But aside from the pile of textbooks I've carried throughout the years, I learned about these:

How to grow.
How to shrink.

How to dance.
How to be still.

How to speak up.
How to be silent.

How to act.
How to be genuine.

How to trust.
How not to trust.

How to cry.
How not to cry.

How to love.
How not to love.

How to be a better Becca.


Tuesday, May 27, 2008


Oh, yes. Life is good.

Thursday, after performing as the Cat in the Hat for several St Mary children (such as Tommy), Jenny and I went off to lunch and then broke into the park to go swinging like we used to when we were a bit smaller. There, we spent a nice hour chatting about everything and nothing; how things will change and how things will stay the same, how we agree and how we don't; how much it matters and how much it doesn't.

Friday was senior skip day. Drove on down to Jackson to find enlightenment. It found me.

For the past few days I've been stuck doing things for band; I haven't minded yet. Tonight is the last concert. I will be glad. :)

Last night was indeed a lovely evening. I haven't laughed so hard in...well at least a few days to say the very littlest. However it was nice and it was fun and genuinely so...just so enjoyable. Regardless of the past four years; because of these past four years; whatever. It's clearance, clearance, clearance; it's merely friendship.

Oh, yes. Life is good.


Monday, May 19, 2008

Last Monday of High School Ever


I am entirely fascinated with rain. I love listening to it patter on the roof; I love to dance in it; I love to watch the drops slide down windows because each drop distorts whatever is outside the window a thousand times over and then when it finally starts to fall, it is the most peaceful thing in the world to behold.

Before the rain this year, every tree and flower beside my driveway was either brown or nonexistent. Then, the rain came and all of a sudden, flowers popped up everywhere and the treetops exploded into a fit of magnificent pink. As if this were not enough, the rain came again and allowed a portion of the flower petals to decorate the driveway so that both the treetops and the asphalt became covered with a vast sea of beauty. In between these laid a small hill of grass that contained pigments of green for a moment that can only be described by everyday Irish countryside.

Such beauty and contrast from so few small showers of rain is hard to comprehend; however, I have overanalyzed rain enough to compare it to my own soul. When the rain allows itself to fall at the mercy of whatever it hits, there is life afterward. Sometimes the moments that bring the most liberation for me are those that come when I allow myself to become exposed to whoever and whatever. What kind of life have I brought to other people by simply being uninhibited? I haven’t the slightest idea; however a single drop of rain never sees the amazing tapestry of color that is created after it falls.

Si, me encanta la lluvia. :]


Friday, May 16, 2008

Last Friday of High School Ever

My list of lasts is growing longer and longer everyday. Complaints? Little to none. :]

The Water Polo season ended last friday with a loss to Grand Ledge, but that's alright. I already miss the gals and the game (so I frequently play at the pool at home) but hey, I scored during the Mason game! I never expected to be able to do that... :]

The One-Act is going alright despite a new debacle every day.

The AP Tests are done and over. No finals for Becca; hooray!

The life is going well. I actually stayed at school for the entire day today for the first time in...a LONG time. :] It was, after all, my last friday of High School ever and I was just having too much fun to go home.

Not much for substance, but I'm saving that all for my last AP English essay. :]


Thursday, May 01, 2008


Hey guys, guess what? I have less than 30 total days left of high school. WOW.

My last senior show, Pride and Prejudice, went pretty well overall despite the most unprofessional performance of my entire career on Saturday night; however, all was well. :] Now, we are working on one-acts to do in a few weeks. Hannah and Casey and I are thinking of doing Laundry and Bourbon since it's one of the funniest things of my life.

Although my time has been filled with cramming for my two AP exams next week and water polo, life has actually calmed down a bit. Graduation, however, is way more stressful than it's worth. Can't they just give me a diploma and say "Get the hell out, girl, you deserve it"?

But I know that things aren't meant to be simple. :]

There's more, but I'm tired. Or is it just laziness?


Sunday, April 20, 2008

Six on Five

So I found out that road-tripping to Birmingham with one's Water Polo team for a weekend tournament is a whole lot of fun...but tiring. :] However, I'm not as tired as I will be this next week because we open Pride and Prejudice on thursday. Yikes.

BUT thanks to Daniel, I got some new Bless the Fall tracks...AND these two new bands that I totally dig: Incarta and Escape the Fate. I don't know where he finds this badassery, but it's groovy to the millionth degree. :]

And we found out that Forgetting Sarah Marshall is a terrible piece-of-crap film that was only semi-saved by Peter's Dracula musical and the colorful array of characters. So don't waste your time...there are better low-budget films out there, most def.

AHH! I just remembered I have to scoot to Art Unlimited and grab the bowl I painted. Hooray!! Now I can eat rice in style.

That being said...


Saturday, April 12, 2008

Nips, Chips and Mentos

I blew through 350 miles on my car in less than a week. YEAH. That's me dropping off people and buying some darn trousers so they won't fall off and taking the girls to Bubble Island and driving by my future home at MSU and visiting some sheep and meeting people for bowling and another Invisible Children screening.

Speaking of which, I'm seriously thinking about ditching prom in order to attend the second "Displace Me" rally. This one is only statewide, but I missed the previous one due to theatre. Prom sucks, in comparison. I'd rather spend my senior year rallying for peace in Uganda then gallivanting around in a duct tape conglomeration to a horrible playlist of "music".

And after all is said and done, I hope I don't wake up with whatever disease my sister is infected with. It always happens that way, on weeks I have to sing, I mean. GRR.

Ooh. I need NHS hours. Whoops.

Only x-more days until graduation! (When x is between 0 and 1,000,000) I have no idea exactly. Been too lazy to count anything besides the occasional integral. And the number of posts I have written, which happens to be a whopping 300. YAY!

And I think to myself...what a wonderful world.


Saturday, April 05, 2008

Attention America

New show. New sport. New car. New family. New university. New life.

Same Becca.


Saturday, March 29, 2008

Mediocrity, Mediocrity

It's sufficiently above freezing outside but still the stubborn patches of snow remain. We'll get there, slowly but surely; the Earth takes a rather long time to tilt towards the sun, in my opinion.

I took this day and did almost nothing with it; I suppose I feel that way because there was no school, no theatre, and no water polo to clog the hours. I did get some things accomplished, but still I feel just as spiritually, mentally, and physically sick as if I were just a bump on a log.

I wonder if I'll finally get to escape. I have no rational reason (besides my ultimate yearning) to leave like I had hoped. Call me absolutely insane, but I'd love to get out of the house after graduation only to leave the perpetual screaming that goes on between the kids. I wish I was allowed to grow up. Held back am I, always. Always. Always. There are no exceptions. Waiting, waiting, waiting with a big black "MEDIOCRE" slapped on my forehead. Perhaps I am addicted to being busy because it counteracts the waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting.

But it doesn't always have to be about me, and this is just ridiculous nonsense, but it is my life, my future... isn't it? This is a situation in which I know what I want. No, dad, I don't care whether I drive a Cobalt or an Ion, gold or silver, black or red...but yes, dad, I do know where I want to live next year.

Back to Blanche: If I don't get out now, I don't know when I ever will.

Perhaps it might be prudent to cease this preposterous presumption that I have no time left. God willing, I have years and years ahead of me. God willing, I may fill those years with as much freedom as I please. feels so good to be free. I just hate to wait for it, because I am addicted living for the moment.

But blessings in disguise are raining down, and like they do, they are confusing, soothing, disappointing, loving, and enlightening me. So I think I'll grab on to one of them and wait to see where it leads, and I'll soar with it until another flies toward me.


Sunday, March 23, 2008

Fantine in Okemos

Once upon a time in a town next to ours, a girl and her father were taking an innocent drive out to run errands and whatnot. Suddenly, a solitary figure emerged from the hustle and bustle of the town. She was standing on the street corner holding a sign that read: "Single Mom Will Work for Food and Diapers God Bless You!" Her eyes were downcast and she wore normal attire for a young woman: jeans, sweatshirt, jacket. She wore something else, though, something that was not normal attire for a young woman: shame.

Whether her story was true or not, my heart just broke for her. As dad and I drove on, she never left my mind. There she was on the corner in the snow. Though there was a possibility that she might have been just scheming for pity money, her image still haunted me. There she was...waiting for mercy but expecting to be scoffed at and ignored. There she was eating the entire Humble Pie so that she and her baby could survive. I had to do something.

I wanted to cry for her, but crying does nothing but provoke useless emotions. I felt so guilty; I had come home to a full refrigerator after shopping for the perfect Chevy Cobalt all morning and she was wishing for a scrap of bread and a diaper...maybe. She could be a liar, but regardless, she was alone on a street corner and I had to go back.

So dad and I went back to Meijer. Dad wanted to be completely sure (or at least more sure) that she wasn't just a street urchin begging, so he rolled down the window and asked her if she would rather have a gift card or diapers. She smiled, hopefully, and said she would like size 2 diapers. We were convinced. This woman was legit.

The delivery of her gifts was up to me, so I walked down the sidewalk after our purchases and delivered them to her. She didn't look at me. There were three or four other bags of diapers which had been dropped there as well, which gave me hope for her. I knew she expected me to drop the bags and run, but I didn't want to. I wanted her to know that...that she was important to me, that she would be alright, that somebody in this frozen world cared.

"How are you holding up?" I asked. "Are you cold?" She replied affirmatively, and I gave her a hug and said I was sorry. Right view of all the cars on Grand River. I gave her what dad and I had brought and we wished each other a happy Easter. Then, after hours of standing on her pillar of shame, somebody picked her up in a junkyard car and she left.

I don't wish to tell this story in order to gain personal praise or recognition. I just wish to tell it because...she's not the only one. Why she resorted to this method of helplessness I may never know, but I would have felt terrible if...if nobody helped her at all. She is a human being who is in trouble; aren't we all? Don't we all need somebody to lift us up now and then? Why should we ignore her when we would hate to be ignored and left on the street corner all alone? We can't change the world, but we can change her life.

So if you pray, keep Grand River's Fantine in yours. I don't know where she is right now, but if she has prayers from all of us holding her up, poverty hasn't a chance with her.

Happy Easter :)


Friday, March 21, 2008

Face the Sea

For one reason or another, this is another day in which I miss the sea desperately. Not just the sea, but the shore that lines the sea. Not just the shore, but the land is held in the arms of the shore. And not just the land, but the radiance that accompanies the land. I yearn for Salthill today.


Quite a number of monumental events have occured in the past few weeks.

Monumental event #1: Brighton Beach Memoirs opened and closed. It was a fantastic show; the last one in high school that I will take completely seriously.

Monumental event #2: I joined the Water Polo team. Enough said there.

Monumental event #3 is just too big to type for the likely reason that the keyboard might just spontaneously combust. Perhaps I shall enlighten at a later time. I colored Easter eggs so gorgeously, but honestly...overall it hasn't been a particularly gorgeous day. To add icing on the cake of yearning and constantly different wavelengths, it snowed three inches. Correction-- is currently snowing three inches. Just as soon as the grass turned green again and the sun shone bright again. It won't stay long, but I'm so sick of white.

Not a day to beg for pity, but just a discontent-existence day. That's all it is, so don't cry for me, Argentina.

But you know what? It's looking up already. Pancakes for supper. :]


Friday, March 14, 2008

Pi Day Friday

Okay, so I pulled a Juno on you all today, I know. It's just that Sunny D is so dang delicious. Except for the fact that Freeman thought I was drinking a jug of bleach and pulled a spaz on me. Heh. That's been happening more often lately. :]

'Tis pi day. Hooray! 3.14159...that song shall be stuck in my head for...forever.

Brighton Beach Memoirs opens tonight. Yay! If only half the cast members weren't on their death

And other things shall be exposed in their own good times.

That's all for now.


Tuesday, March 04, 2008

I Turned Three

Happy third blogiversary to me :]

294 posts; 294 days; 294 individual moments combined into one.

Thank you, all who have joined me on this journey. And don't forget to come back; we're not done yet. :]


Friday, February 29, 2008

Leap Year Lament

Okay, so I'm not lamenting anything. The title just sounded...fitting, eh? It is 2008 and it is leap day, leap year. So Google replaced the "L" in it's logo with a frog. Clever.

I'm not sure what to type. I just felt like I should, since it's February 29th and I probably won't see another February 29th for a few more years. It's funny. I asked for more time, and my wish was granted. I got about 28 snow days (a slight exaggeration, mind you) and a leap day. Turns out, I still haven't accomplished much. Being a good steward of time is...difficult.

But Caroline and I used the time we would've wasted on the student-staff basketball game and hung out today. Maybe that's just what I wanted. Maybe that's accomplishing something...just spending time with the people I might not see much after graduation... it doesn't make me sad. It's not lament. It's the opposite.

Well, it was fun, anyway. :]

...That's all I've got today, folks.

Happy Leap Day.


Sunday, February 24, 2008

Good Eye, Sniper

Did I mention how much I love lunar eclipses? Did I mention that I rather live for astronomical events such as these? Did I mention that the eclipse occurred the clearest winter night we've had this month? Well, I've mentioned it now. Kudos to God; Wednesday's eclipse was a winner.

Life has been simple and gorgeous.

I am still keeping busy with concerts and whatnot. Theatre rehearsals for Brighton Beach Memoirs are getting longer and longer; I still have not grasped my character, Kate. I will. Time is all it takes for that. Well, that and memorizing (and not paraphrasing) all of my 261 lines. Ouch.

Oh, Pride and Prejudice for the last spring play. Hooray! Auditions next week.

I quite enjoy having a sixth hour independent study because I can just go home if I want. I can go home, or I can practice for Casey's recital, or I can talk to Steven, or I can do Calculus, or I can write songs in 5/8 time. Whatever floats my particular boat.

I think I have athlete's foot. Since I haven't been wearing shoes around the school lately, and my left foot is itchy, I probably have some fungal growth. I'm not complaining. It's a well-deserved fungal growth that leaves no room for sympathy. Oh well...

...and did I mention?

A little behind schedule (not the fault of anyone), but I can drive now.

And ooh, it feels good to be free. :]


Thursday, February 14, 2008

Valentine's Nincompoopery

Today my family ate all of the beef and broccoli while I was at theatre practice in a theatre which is haunted by John Denver [aka Andy, Pearl, or Mayhew] because Abbey made fun of him when he died and so he now finds it necessary to haunt the auditorium and spook kids such as Devin, Zakk, and Casey.

So I'm realizing, though, that nearly every place I've ever been to is supposedly 'haunted'. It makes sense, really. There are enough lonely souls wanderin' around out there for it to be true. It doesn't matter to me. They're not interested in me; it's just that ghosts make everything so much more interesting.

Then we started talking about creepy people.

So here's my love letter to the world:

To all the haters: Channel all of that hating energy into something else.
To all the stalkers: Leave them the HELL alone.
To all the obsessed: You have no personality left. Ditch whatever it is that you obsess over and make your own self; preferrably not on a foundation built by someone else.
To all the greedy: Count your blessings.
To all the lonely: There's somebody else that's lonely too; you'll never really be alone.
To all the unwise: Listen to somebody besides yourself.
To all the Beccas: Figure it out.

...This has been a terrible documentation of thought.


Friday, February 08, 2008

What the Hell, Katie?

Today Miss Katie Endahl, who stands behind me in band class, found it prudent to take a life-sized styrofoam head with a made-up face and inch it next to my head, very slowly, while I was having a conversation with Miss Emily Wardell.

Suffice it to say that I looked over to this sickly looking head and became rather startled. Miss Endahl then proceeded to laugh hysterically and eventually I joined her with Miss Wardell. The cruel irony is this: Katie told me she was going to do that to me sometime...I only forgot. Blast.

Yesterday I realized how the 'real world' is such a waste of time. In a country as inaccessible as the one we live in, it's just impossible to get anything done at all. Tiny and nit-picky rules and regulations stop honest people from completing an honest day's work, and while these rule-makers sit back on their ample rears chuckling at their ability to disgruntle an honest population, the dishonest thrive. Great system, kids.

So what the hell, Katie? :]


Saturday, February 02, 2008


I don't even know what the word "searing" means but every time I hear it my chest caves in a little bit. It's just one of those words, you know? I could guess what it means, or look it up, but then it would lose all of its meaning.

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns his face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

It really is lovely poetry. There's no need to analyze or scrutinize lovely poetry if one only seeks to enjoy it.

...and now for something completely different.

FAME! went well; it went exponentially better than any of us expected. It magically became a show the night before opening. Who knew?

The boys love my singin'. Look at them crowd around :]

Ashley and I are just gorgeous [and a little goofy].

And who isn't in love with Johnny, Bryan, and Becca? :]

These kids dominated. That's right. Alec, Becca, Zakk and Jordan as Tony, Angela, Bruno, and Mario Martelli. The greatest moments in the play belonged to us...rock on!

A great craic, if I may.


Sunday, January 20, 2008

Irrational Rations

Applying for scholarships is such a joke. I could sob-story myself tearless for these guys and it wouldn't make any difference. They'll sooner pick a minority single-mom living in the not-so-nice Deep South than a white girl living in a big house with both parents married. Of course, there's nothing wrong with this; however, sometimes the white girls need a little scholarship money too. Those kids are the ones who might have been, oh, cheated by an ill-conceived bastard government...or maybe they're just looking for a jump-start just like everybody else in the world.

But then the sun comes out and you can see the dust floating in the air, only it isn't dust. Every particle is a tiny piece of a rainbow floating around you, and surrounding you, and caressing you, and the world is cool for just a minute.

This is when I realize that I will be fine.

But I still want more. I know I am worth so much more than this...this busy timeless penniless existence. I am sick of hearing it; it's bothersome from both my own thoughts and from the lips of others, snottily or otherwise.'s just a matter of mustering the time and courage to do something that seems so tedious but in reality is so insignificant. If I spent time in reflection of my life, I would find all things fantastic and all things irresponsible. It ceaselessly annoys me to live off of the charity of another; not being self-sufficient drives me insane. However, I will never be self-sufficient; nobody can.

It's been seven entire semesters of high school and it all comes down to this one, if I can last (which I know I can). I don't want to have very much to do with school save theatre (and the occasional Calculus) but rather I want time for other things. I want time to learn what they can't teach me in those classrooms, because there is just so much that is more relevant and applicable. I want time to accept comfort personified...and anything else in the world that I want personified. I want more than just academics and fine arts. I want to start building my own existence instead of one built by other people' What an awful word. I want more time.

I already know I can't handle 29 hour days and stay awake, but 24 hours is just not enough.


Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Half Six Brilliance

Ireland was, again, amazing. I'd post more pictures; however, dial-up internet makes that quite impossible. That's the way it is, I suppose.

So the storm inside me that was brewing and yearning to go back has been soothed, officially, as of December the 30th. Going back again makes travel all the more accessible to me, and I know I'll always have the option of going back.

I ran through airports, rode in a car that was on the wrong side of the road, frolicked around Bunratty, kissed the Blarney stone, obtained a Dublin admirer, wandered those fields of Athenry, climbed the Cliffs of Moher, shopped in Galway, hated London, tasted delicious wine, and saw my family again.

It was golden, indeed.


School is gorgeous. It has kept me busy, as it is exams week and for some reason I found it prudent to return the friday prior. However, I believe that I will be fine. Rehearsal schedules have remained hectic, but I believe that I am caught up for the most part on everything else.

So now I have found a spare moment to dictate thought. Lovely, and...