Pet Peeves

I'm sort of a grouch today so I thought I'd do a much overdue post centered around those things I find most annoying. Some of these may have been mentioned in a previous post about CTA manners, but I feel they're worth repeating since people have yet to alter their ways.

People who stand on escalators. Unless you are handicapped in some way, don't stand on the escalator. The escalator was invented to aid in stair stepping, not to completely take the work out of scaling heights. You have legs so use them. If you insist on perpetuating your utter laziness, at least stand to the right. Not everyone is okay being trapped behind you because you chose to stand in the middle of the escalator. Let those who aren't completely consumed with sloth pass you.

People who don't stand up to let you out on the CTA. I live pretty far North on the Brown line, so in the morning, I generally get a window seat. By Belmont I have someone sitting next to me. When it's time for my exit, they don't stand up to let me out. No. They swivel their legs and act like that's good enough. Well you know what? It's NOT! Stand up for five seconds. I don't want to press against you to leave. On top of that, when my purse smacks you in the head due to lack of room, don't glare at me, it's your own damn fault. In fact, I would say thanks to your own lethargy, you deserved it.

Wintry Mix. You're not snow, your not rain, you're wintry mix. You are a nasty slushy raining down from the heavens leaving me not only wet but freezing wet because you can't make up your mind what you want to be. I don't know how to dress for you. Should I bring an umbrella? Will that look silly when you turn back to snow? Are my snow boots waterproof enough? You are the worst weather condition aside from maybe a tornado. It's you who make me half serious when I joke about moving back to Florida.

So there's a nice little group of pet peeves. I have more, but I'm putting myself in a grumpier mood than before by airing my grievances.

A Month

It's almost been a month since my last post. Life has a tendency to intrude. The weather has changed. It is now bitterly cold every day, the sky is generally gray, and we are expecting more snow this afternoon.In short, it's miserable. Thoughts of moving back South float merrily around my head. Unfortunately, love, friendship, theatre, and my political beliefs keep me bound to the North.

This morning was fun. Fay boobie-trapped my purse with fur. She must have at some point decided it was a great place to sleep and shed. By the time I got on the train this morning, the purse fur had transferred to my coat leaving me looking like a crazy cat lady.

Sergio is in Florida already. I had a pretty nice and quiet weekend, if not cold and sort of lonely. It's been a while since I could just curl up in my apartment and pretend to be a hermit. I cleaned, I watched 16 and Pregnant, I slept, I cuddled with Fay. I went to bed at 9:30 last night and actually woke up on time! Yes, I've just described the life of an old lady, but I think one weekend of acting like the elderly is excusable.

I go to Florida on Thursday. I wish it would just hurry up and get here. I'm taking Fay with me so I'm sure this flight is going to be even more fun than usual. And I'm going to have to take a taxi, what joy.

I'm getting a mild headache thinking about all this, so I'll go ahead and stop.

I am Thankful

I thought after months of complaining Thanksgiving is the perfect excuse to examine and give thanks to those things which make me happy and, at times, give me satisfaction. I know I can be a bit of a negative Nancy, but I really have a pretty neat life.

Let's start on the macro level, my time. I happen to live in one the most tolerant and accepting times since the dawning of man (at least as I can tell). Let's focus for a moment on the United States since it's what I have the most familiarity with. Since the Civil Rights movement we've advanced leaps and bounds in the treatment of those who are "different" than our superficial idea of normal. We are far from perfect. Our treatment of the poor and weak regardless of color is shameful, but at least intolerance is no longer politically correct. I'm proud and hopeful to say in my lifetime gay men and women will finally be treated with the respect every human being deserves. Despite backwards thinking bigots, we will keep fighting for equality on every level. I am thankful for our determination to win this war.

I am thankful that I'm a woman in a world where I'm not trod on like a sexual doormat. I grew up knowing I could do anything that a man could do, that gender was not going to be a roadblock. I am thankful for the strong women before me who stood up to oppression and paved the way for me.

Now for the more personal thanks. I have a wonderful boyfriend to spend my time with. He's warm and sweet and smart and handsome. He makes me dinner. He puts up with my abrupt hi's and low's. He's pretty much everything a gal could need or want. I have two magnificent parents who take care of me even though I live hundreds of miles away and don't call nearly as much as I should. I have a cat who is happy to curl up on my chest, full of purrs, and nap. I have a job that I like with health insurance. I have money in savings. I have a roof over my head and food on the table. I have a comfortable bed and a large television.

I'm pretty damn lucky. I tend to forget that and as corny as this post may be, it's nice to remind myself that I am far from lost. I'm in a good place with good people. I am moving forward. I wish everyone could have it this good.

Book

I'm trying to write a book and I've hit the wall at only 34 pages. Everything sounds like a cliche. The story's stupid. I want to take it outside and burn it, only it's in digital form and I don't want to waste the paper to print it out.

Ugh! Frustration! Why can't I just be a writer, poof, with a grand and beautiful way of expressing myself? Why I'm I trapped in my own lethargic mind? Why? Why? Why?

It feels so good to wallow in self pity sometimes. Not right now though. I don't want pity, I want to write. I want to get published. I want a lot of people to read my work and pay me a good deal of money so I can buy that loft I want and spend all day writing on my rooftop deck (in the summer) and all night rehearsing for that next great play I'm in.

Is that too much to ask? This is America! All our wishes and dreams come true here, right? That's what Disney taught me. Don't dream it, be it. Wait, no, that was Rocky Horror. Same sentiment.

I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do. It's literally the same drivel page after page after page.

Look, I'm not attempting the next Great American Novel here, but if I can't write something at least as good as those stupid, poorly composed, Sookie Stackhouse novels that True Blood is based on, I may actually just keel over and die.

A Little Fun

The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 Philip Pullman - His Dark Materials

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes Of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis

34 Emma -Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Inferno - Dante

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

A Late Night/Early Morning

I'm conscious and I'm at work. That's pretty much the limit of cognisant abilities today. As you may be aware, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 came out in cinema's everywhere this past midnight. Being the crazy die hard fan that I am, bucking violently at the idea of growing out of this phase, I was in attendance. And now here I am, at work, trying to maintain some form of awareness on two hours of sleep.

I've never been like some of my comrade's who, in college at least, seemed to live, nay, thrive on minimal sleep. A healthy dose of Z's have always been a priority on my agenda. I never pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper. I can count the number of times on one hand that I stayed out until the sun came up, and they were generally not sanctioned by myself.

More than that, I am strictly diurnal. As much as being a night owl has always appealed to me, what with my penchant for the paranormal and my infatuation with star gazing, I've just never been able to sustain it. My body craves sleep. My body relishes in it.

Getting home at 3:30 and waking up at 5:45 was a feat. I'm proud to have accomplished it. I whipped my blanket off of myself like a champ, bravely facing the icy air and chilly wood floor. I dragged on my jeans (thank god for casual Friday, brushed out my hair, and even managed to make my face look somewhat fresh. I am thoroughly and utterly pooped, but I console myself with the knowledge that in a few short hours I'll be tucked safely in my bed, blankets piled high, my head filled with magical dreams.

For now I'll pat myself on the back for a movie well watched and my brain's willingness not to ignore my alarm. I will smile bravely at the guests who zoom in and out of my office and have no idea of the girl screaming for sleep behind my slightly red eyes.

I will also attempt to stop being so melodramatic and go drink a cup of coffee.

The Other Extreme

I'm finding it hard to write in the absence of politics. I must say, I've had a lot less heart ache and grief since I went on my vacation far from the New York Times and Huffington Post. My worry lines are decreasing, I'm not so utterly depressed when I get off work. It's like I'm a recovering addict.

There's not much to say. I'm in rehearsals Monday through Thursday's after work and it's rather taxing. I'm surprised I haven't caved into the allure of caffeine. Going to the gym is a pipe dream. My point is, my life is far from eventful at the present time. Go to work. Go to rehearsal. Sleep. Repeat five days, sleep for two. Aw the pleasures of the bohemian life. Well not really bohemian with the who full time office job thing, but, you know what I mean.

Do you know what the excitement of my week has been thus far? I get to fly my cat home with me over the Christmas break. That's the highlight. Boom.

It may seem that I am hating on my rehearsal process, which is not the case. I love this show. It's coming together quite nicely. I know some music. I know some lines. It'll be good. I'm simply tired, grumpy and cold. And I'm really struggling to write this today. So it's bad and it's scattered and I just don't care.

An Unfortunate GRE Score

I would like to preface this by saying that not all of my GRE score was unfortunate. I did quite well on the Verbal portion and while my writing section could have been higher, it was nothing to be ashamed of. However, it has taken me a month to get over the embarassment of my quantitative score.

Math, the bane of my existence. Numbers and formulas seem to wash over my brain like so much water. I don't soak them up the way I do words. It would be nice to say I'm handicapped, that something is wrong with my head. Maybe I'm allergic. But I feel like that's the easy way out. It's me making excuses for my own inability to buckly down and actually study.

Most of my life I've drifted through math classes, cramming my brain full enough to pass tests with a reasonable grade, soon letting the equations and time tables flit out when the danger of failing passed. I need to start at the very beginning and train myself, pull myself up from the pool of ignorance I've mired myself in by years of expertly B.S.ing.

Are there classes for adults with a college degree who simply don't grasp math? Maybe I should bite the bullet and pay over $1000 for a GRE class. But what if I take that class and my brain is so thick that I refuse to learn? Why does this one stupid score need to stand in front of me and my Grad school future? Should I not go to grad school? Should I pack up a tiny travel trailer and venture around America with Fay taking pictures and writing stories of the modern American twenty-somthing girl?

Sometimes I forget my age. I forget that I'm 23 and have years upon years ahead of me. But years are getting shorter and I can already feel my life speeding up. Those things I were uncertain of a year ago, I'm still uncertain of. I am bogged down by my generations need to accomplish something significant. I feel as if my life will be a waste if I fail to contribute to humanity in some way, minor or major.

And now I am babbling my insecurities all over the internet in some wave of nervous venting. All I want is to be intelligent and talented enought to leave some tiny scar on the surface of civalization. I guess in the grand sceem of things, that is a lot to ask.

A Political Rest

The elections are over and while things did not turn out in a most ideal fashion, they certainly could have been worse (aka: Christine O'Donnell). It's come to my attention that I have a slightly unhealthy obsession with politics. It's exhausting to constantly scan the New York Times for the latest news. I'm always reading some history book or another, which I love, but I'm usually left with a head ache birthed from frustration. I take politics personally.

As such, I'm going to attempt to pull away from my stream of headlines and history and focus my attention on something utterly unimportant. For instance, today I was reading about Disney World's upcoming expansion of Fantasyland. Later, I may even play a game on my computer. Who knows? It's time to go crazy!

In line with my hiatus, I have an announcement to make. I am now a redhead. I'm not quite used to it yet, and I'm certainly not sure if I like it or not. For some reason, when my hair is crazy (like 3/4 of the time) it makes it look even more insane. I'll learn to love it eventually. If not, I can always make another trip to the salon.

Another exciting (but not too exciting) thing I've been doing today is reading about the Jaws ride at Universal Studios. Jaws, being the classic that it is, is my favorite ride there. Can you imagine my excitement when I discovered pictures of it completely dry?! I never had any idea how shallow the lagoon is. Seeing the sharks just hanging out is pretty awesome. I love knowing how things work, not that I understand most if not any of the mechanisms. I can't wait to ride it again soon!

Please Vote

I'm making one final plea before the election tomorrow: Please vote. Being politically savvy may not be the fad right now. The glory days of 2008 where my generation was filled with over zealous hope are long gone, but hope still exists. Not having our every desire satisfied in two brief years is not reason to turn our back on a presidency that has attained so much for us.

If you are in college on a Pell Grant, thank Obama for expanding both the program and the the amount you receive. If you've graduated and are still on your parents health insurance, thank Obama for the health reform he managed to pass. He has done more for our generation than any president in our history. Many have spoken about making it easier for Americans to go to college, he's the only one to have acted.

I am frustrated too that DADT is still active. I hate that we continue to fight a pointless war that is costing us more than we can afford in American dollars and troops. I'm dissatisfied too! That's why I'm voting. If the GOP take power, do you honestly think we'll be any closer to attaining those goals?

Here is a website with voting guides for individual states. It's a great place to begin sorting through the hodge-podge of untruths that have been told and find the candidates that most align with your beliefs. I hope it's helpful.

Please vote.

Brrrrrrrr!

Ack! Two weather posts in a row, but I have to. It's cold. According to Google, the weather is currently 33 degrees. Even in my office my fingers feel like little icicles and I've got goosebumps dotting my arms. My building doesn't understand the term "happy medium" when it comes to temperature.

Speaking of things that leave me cold, the election is on Tuesday next week. I'm honestly running out of things to say. The tea party continues to show their ignorance on a daily basis, resorting now to violence when confronted with reason. But the American people are convinced that the people running our country should be the guys they go have beers with on Friday night, not the educated, experienced, "elitists". If so much wasn't at stake, I would enjoy watching the far right continue our descent into a third world, backwards thinking country.

Our infrastructure is falling apart. Obama wants to inject money into our economy by improving roads, building high speed rail systems, etc. which would easily create millions of jobs. However, some of our politicians are so short sided all they can focus on is the money now. We're so intent on making a fast buck that slow, steady, secure fiscal growth is becoming obsolete. If we keep marching to the same beat, things will only continue to worsen. Let's invest in our future.

But no. Despite the fact that Obama has cut spending, depsite the fact that TARP is now making a profit, despite the fact that health care reform is saving money, the democrats are running this country into the ground. We're already broke, people. We were broke before Obama even began his presidential campaign. Let's do the math here. We had a surplus when Clinton was in office. Bush started two expensive, fruitless wars for oil when we could have invested in renewable engery sources on our own soil, and suddenly we had a multi-trillion dollar deficit. Obama was elected and is working with what he got handed. You don't have to be a political analyst to see the party that caused this mess and the party who has actually managed to stop the hemorraging.

But we don't read facts. We don't look at numbers that have proved the great things Obama has accomplished. We forget the past because it's much easier to point the finger at the present. It makes me sick. If the poor and down trodden want to continue to get kicked by the wealthy, if they don't want to be educated with the Pell Grants and financial aid that Obama has increased to decent levels, then maybe they deserve what they get. It's so much easier to scream bloody murder about taxes then to care about your fellow man dying from a treatable disease or the kid next door being able to afford a decent education. I was hoping it wasn't completely a dog-eat-dog world out there, but I guess that was naive of me.

Stormy Weather

It looks like a hurricane is sweeping through Chicago. I assumed when I left Florida I would be trading train speed winds and pelting rain for temperatures that plummet below zero on a semi regular basis. I felt that was fair, there is no perfect climate. I'll trade one deadly weather system for another. However, it looks like here you get a little bit of column A and a little bit of column B.

I would love this weather if I could be home, wrapped in blankets, a book on my lap, a cup of tea at my side, a purring Fay curled at my feet. I would crack the window and listen to the rain drench the earth in its final bought of madness before it transforms into snow in a month or two. But, alas, damp and tired I trudged to work in heavy rain boots, a broken umbrella my shield, cursing my inability to find a decent raincoat in this town.

It's unnervingly warm out. I feel like one of these days the rug is going to be jerked out from under our feet and it'll go from a balmy 69 degrees to 10 overnight. Either that or my slightly more irrational fear that it'll never be cold this winter, global warming will take hold in a violent way, and we'll all burn up come next summer. I don't really believe that, but what if it just never snows? What if I bring Florida's taint with me wherever I go?

On a side note, rehearsals are going well for my new show. The script is on my desk right now, beckoning me to memorize it. Boy, I'm just happy that I don't speak literally half the script like Extinction Fantasies. That was fun to learn. We almost have the whole thing blocked, in two weeks we start learning music and need to be off book for scenes as we do them. I can do this. I'm an actor, lines are the least of my worries. Ugh, I'm just the worst at procrastination.

Puritans and the Tea Party

I am reading American Colonies, The Settling of North America by Alan Taylor in my endless quest to educate myself about my country. It's a good read if you don't mind a little dryness to your history. It lacks the passion of A People's History of the United States, but in a way that makes it less biased. Our ancestors are still depicted as land hungry mass murderers, but really, can you justify the Native American genocide?

The Puritans certainly felt they had just cause. Before I continued, let me say I've never laughed out loud at a history book before yesterday. My hearty chuckle was derived from the fact that the Puritans' excuse for killing natives and stealing their land is the same excuse many Tea Partier's are using in their denial of global warming. God put the resources on earth, so he must have meant us to use them.

Are the people we want running our country those who think we should place our lives in the hands of a myth? By that same logic, God gave us a brain and the capacity to think, so he must have meant us to use it! But I guess God gave us intelligence so we could create Hummers and dams and plastic water bottles, not to create systems that use our resources to their greatest potential.

On a side note, are you voting November 2nd? It's your duty to vote. If you don't vote you're giving up your voice, and that's more ignorant than Christine O'Donnell's knowledge of our constitution. So get out there, turn off Fox News, and actually read about candidates, what they've done and what they stand for. Read about what has been accomplished in the White House, don't just listen to Glenn Beck's hate speech. Education, people! Facts! Don't condemn our country to a cesspool of ignorance. Don't murder our middle class. Don't vote GOP for god sake!

Education: If We Insist on Pointing a Finger, Blame the Parents

I relatively recently finished my public school system education, so I feel as if I'm ripe to give a spoonful of insight into the student perspective on education. I'm going to do away with the flowery build up and get right into the thick of things. I went to a C average magnet school. I would say in over half of my classes a large portion of my peers would receive between a C and an F. But I didn't. Friends of mine who had a decent support system at home didn't. My point being, you can't blame teachers for a system that's broken much deeper.

We embrace scapegoats. If teachers are the issue we can ignore the growing problem of broken families and parents so self-consumed that their children have no guidance. It's so easy to assume that if a child fails a class, the teacher must not be teaching.

Teaching is a job. There is no prerequisite that states you must be a martyr, however that's exactly what our society expects. The vast majority of teachers went into the field because they wanted to make a difference. They want to make an impact on the lives of children and spread their love of education. Often they do sacrifice personally and professionally for their students. There certainly are no other incentives besides love and noble aspirations to teaching grade school. But there are only so many times you can bang your head against a wall before becoming disenchanted and jaded.

My generation has been brought up with the idea that we are individually special merely because we were born. Our parents preach it from birth as well as our teachers(incidentally, one of the first things I would change about the education system). This gives us absolutely no incentive to earn our importance. No one is special unless they work at it. With well over 6 billion people on our planet, chances are you're average at best. If we want to be something other than the mundane, we will need to get over our narcissism and work towards it starting at a much earlier age.

If we treat our teachers with the respect they deserve, naturally the poor ones will be weeded out and better one's will be introduced. If we keep abusing them and blaming them for poor student performance, there will be none left. My own thoughts of eventually teaching history are quickly evaporating as our government looks more and more towards privatizing education and punishing teachers for the problems derived at home. I am leery about entering a dying field that is utterly underfunded and under appreciated.

Oh, Rehearsal

As some of you may or may not know, I am in my first full length Chicago production. For the first time in my young life I'm having to find balance between rehearsing until 10 and waking up at 5:45am and I have a suspicion that sometime in the next three months coffee is going to make an appearance in my diet.

I've been careful to avoid caffeine addiction. I don't really like the taste of coffee in the first place, besides French pressed, because apparently I'm fancy like that, and add to the mix the jitters that I get soon after consumption and I lack any sort of desire to drink it unless in a complete fix. But the cold and exhaustion will indubitably lead to, at the very least, my drinking tea.

My next fear for rehearsal is that it is in fact flu season and I'm in a musical. Almost like clockwork, I get a cold at least once a year, occasionally twice. We don't start learning music until November and I can just see the little flu bugs giggling as they plot a way to be most destructive to my vulnerable vocal chords.

Some of your more discerning eyes might catch a bit of pessimism in today's entry. Honestly, I'm cold and I'm taking a bit of a stroll on the grumpy side of the street. It felt like fall this morning, and I don't like to be reminded of the icy brutality in store for the next five or so months. I feel quite unprepared for the task of keeping myself thawed. I don't have the mountain of long underwear and sweaters I so desire. I have summer dresses and whispy shirts.

So yes, grumble, grumble, tired grumble. On the plus side, I'm taking a personal day to study for the GRE tomorrow. On the down side, I'm taking the GRE on Saturday. So I guess you could say tomorrow the glass is half full...with vinegar.

Swamped

Hello Friends,

Sorry it's been a week or so since my last post. Lately at work I've gone from bored receptionist to busy receptionist. I've been given new duties and responsibilities like it's nobodies business, which is, surprisingly, really great. I like to know that I'm contributing to the company. So, FYI, these might be limited to once a week.

There's a lot that has happened these past few weeks in the political realm. Paladino came out as a homophobic bigot, condemning his opponent for marching in a Gay Pride parade, which he deems disgusting. Long story short, despite the copious amounts of youth suicides resulting from gay bashing, a man running to be an integral part of our government is confirming their self loathing. Thanks, Paladino, that's just what our children need, to see how high and deep the roots of homophobia reach.

I don't understand how this hate speech is accepted as valid campaign propaganda. Grant it, campaigns are known for being ruthless, but this is akin to a racist running for office and calling a gathering on MLK day disgusting. We wouldn't stand for that, and neither should we stand for this.

Tolerance and the idea of "live and let live" are being thrown out the window. We are heading towards a social dictatorship ruled by Christian fundamentalists. Wouldn't are founding fathers be so proud?

Record Player

Today, I bought a record player. It isn't my first record player, but it is my first since I've moved to Chicago. I've missed the full bodied music that only vinyl can produce. I don't claim to be a music aficionado. I'm in fact one of the last to know about any new great band, but I hope my purchase will help me to think of my music collection as an extension of myself. What a hipster thing to say, I know. The truth is, I can't make my own music so I will use others' to aid in my own self expression.

I'm a folksy kind of gal. Right now I'm listening to Fleet Foxes, a band that I've known for two years now, and never get sick of. I plan to buy their LP sometime this week and christen my record player with it. I also love Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zero's and Iron and Wine. I like to think I'm a bit earthy. I can picture myself in cabin somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains, autumn, cup of tea, crafting the next great American novel, listening to any number of these artists.

Music engages my mind in such a way that I find it hard to worry about things. I can't hardly concentrate when a song I love plays. It's one of my few oasis'. I think everyone deserves an escape from the violence and anger that seem to be on every street corner. So lets smile and toast music, one of the greatest achievements of mankind.

Double Standard

We have blatant double standards in our country. We cling to archaic laws that don't allow homosexuals to serve openly in our military or marry the people they love. In some states, they can legally be discriminated against when vying for a job. Yet we're shocked, offended and ready to point the finger when children grow up to be homophobic little pricks who bully fellow peers to the point of suicide.

The system is broken. It seemingly has never been not broken. Bullying in its every form has pervaded the school system since its beginnings. The repercussions for the bully's have been trivial. There needs to be a system of punishment. There needs to be programs in our schools set up to educate students. The best place to learn would of course be at home, but let's be real. The kids that are doing this come from parents who either encourage their violence or don't care.

It's sick that this happens. Are we not suppose to have an innate sense of right and wrong instilled in us since birth? What these kids do is sadistic. They get a high off of the emotional distress of others.

By keeping laws in place that indicate that homosexuals are something other than human, our government is doing nothing to change our societies thought pattern. Change like this can start at the grass roots level, but our government has an obligation and a need to ensure equal rights to all of our citizens. Right now they are openly failing at that straightforward task and people are suffering needlessly because of it.

Libraries

The New York Times had an article today that once again left me such a sour mood, pretty much the rest of my day is pointless.

Cities are turning their libraries over to private corporations. One of the final bastions of free education in American society is being outsourced to men and women who have no qualms about firing unionized workers and hiring non-unionizers in their stead. Aside from the loss of benefits, pensions and the wage cut already low earning librarians will receive, the long term social effect is already palpable.

Do we really want big business censoring what we read? A library should be an oasis of knowledge where, no matter what your belief, you go to study. The United States is supposed to be one of the most modern and forward thinking countries on our planet. How sad is it that we value education and a strong, intelligent middle class so little.

We need to invest in our people. We need to make sure that our citizens are given opportunities for success. We need education to be in reach of not only the well off, but the poor. It's sick that we are so unwilling to give a hand to those in need. We are a selfish, greedy country. We look for short term fiscal returns, never the long term.

A part of me hopes that we will run America into the ground just so I can say I told you so. But unfortunately, the super rich will always survive to kick the impoverished. They've already begun by making education an exclusive club.

Scarf Season

Today I wore a scarf to work. It's taken a turn for the cold in Chicago. More than ever I feel myself bracing for the impending head on collision with winter. After doing laundry this past weekend, I tucked my shorts far into the back of my closet and pulled my sweaters forward. Farewell soft summer dresses. Hello bulky fall jackets.

As a sort of last hurrah before the real cold sets in, Sergio and I embarked on a twenty-five mile bike ride on Saturday. I'm not what one would call an athlete. I'm more of a napper or an eater. More indoor cat than border collie. However, despite the length, over all, it was more fun that not. Sure, towards the end, riding into a strong head wind left a lot to be desired, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of myself.

We went to Meigs Field, which is a place I'm sure not a lot of people know about. It's the other side of the Field Museum and used to be a small airport for the rich. Now it's a wide expanse of prairie grass and wild flowers, far enough isolated that the sound of traffic is faint and distance. Little crickets rubbing their legs together, Canadian geese gently honking, and unobstructed wind whooshing through the tall grass are a welcome aural oasis from the usual bustling sounds of the city.

In the middle of the field are three metal nymphs standing at least ten feet high. I'm usually turned off by sculpture in the midst of natural beauty, but these three simply look as if they belong.

I know I'm sounding like a bad travel writer at this point, so I promise I'll stop soon. It's rare to find a gem like this in a city overrun by people. It's a place to be bathed in sunlight and joy. It's a place to find inspiration in the midst of concrete and glass.

But now it's raining and I get the sinking feeling I won't be truly warm again for another six months. Fall will be crisp and too brief. Winter will be unrelenting. I'll be found under blankets, hibernating with my cat, Fay. I must cheer up. Consider the beautiful foliage that is on the cusp of changing or the snow ball fights that are soon to be had. It's not all ruddy faces and bruised bottoms from slick ice. It's candy corn and pumpkin pie. Turkey and parades. Presents!

We'll think about those things and then worry about winter after that holidays.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

I'm losing patience, people. I see our country quickly falling back into the hands of Christian, right-wing fundamentalists, who use religion as a scapegoat to justify their immorality. Intolerance is as permeating and prevalent as it's always been. Humanity seems to need a sinner to stone.
Our government is suppose to protect us from these gross infractions against our basic human rights. Our government is not a Christian government. Pull God out of the equation and what justification do you have to discriminate against homosexuals? None. You might as well tell women they can't serve unless they march off to battle in drag.
Congressional Republicans are not representing the people of the United States of America when they refuse to allow a topic to be debated. Obama is seen as weak and ineffective because he has tried for the past two years to make bipartisan decisions with a political party which is not open to debate. The right wing would much rather clamp hands over their ears and spout manipulative nonsense.
The time has come to stop being nice. We aren't going to win on November 2nd if we keep giving in to right. Honestly, it's probably too late to turn it around. People are too stupid to read a newspaper or Google a little research.
You know why Democrats are doing so poorly? Because we have tact. Obama has tact. Obama saw a country that had been divided and he wanted to unite it with bipartisanship. Well folks, compromise doesn't exist. We're all too selfish for that to work. So, fellow Democrats, let's go ahead and take off our gloves and fight like the future of our public school systems depend on us, because quite frankly, it does.

One Lonely Weekend

It was a lethargic and utterly lonely weekend. I left the house in brief bursts only to return and cover myself with sheets and blankets. I watched bad movies. And I don't mean the good kind of bad, I mean bad, bad. Like romantic comedy bad.

I wasn't depressed, just completely uninspired. I ached and slept. It's been a long time since I've had days of solitude. I thought I missed it, but I honestly don't. Facing the world without a partner in crime is not an easy task.

I'm trying to write some silly, sentimental blog about how much I've missed my Sergio this weekend while he's been on his trip to Florida. Unfortunately, it keeps coming out as shapeless drivel. I'm going to get right to the point. I love him and I miss him. Today's hours are going to trickle by slower than the Brown Line in a construction zone. I've felt utterly incomplete. It's weird not having someone to hold your hand.

It feels precarious being dependent on someone for happiness. I've been a loner for a long time. Not in the cool sense of loner. I never wore leather jackets and smoked cigarettes behind the gym,I've simply enjoyed having time to myself, to do what I want. But that's changed. I get bored when I'm alone. All I want to do is sleep.

He gets home tonight at 11. That seems so distant. I have an entire work day and a show between now and then. It's over 12 hours away. And it's gloomy outside. And it's a Monday. Today feels like it's going to be a French Market kind of lunch day.

A Call to Arms

To my fellow Democrats and Bleeding Heart Liberals,

Our country is on the brink of an election that could make or break the next few years of our country. How quickly our society forgets the burden placed on our shoulders after 8 years of failed leadership. We are so eager to point the finger at our latest administration because of this grossly unfair perspective that they've done nothing. When you're in a hole for 8 years, it's going to take longer than 2 to get out.

But I digress. We have a slew of politicians so far right that they threaten Medicaid and social security, systems in place that have helped insure that our elderly and sick aren't completely left destitute. It's dangerous to assume that the Tea party Movement doesn't have a chance come election day. These people will fight tooth and nail to get into office. I assure you, they will turn out to vote en mass.

I'm pleading with you, register to vote and then do the deed. We need to be as politically driven as our adversaries. We need to ensure that America can be a country that doesn't throw our weak to the wolves, that values education for poor and rich alike, and embraces complete and unwavering tolerance.

Please don't give this glorious country back to the hate mongers.

Love,
H.

Making Pictures

My pictures lately have not been that great. Maybe I've simply set the bar higher for myself, or maybe I'm getting rusty. I'm more inclined to believe it's due to my new need to use the manual settings on my camera. No matter how you dice it, I'm not happy with the product. Don't get me wrong, head shots are fine, but those are rather routine at this point.

My number one problem is focus. I have trouble knowing when something is crisp, especially in a darker environment. I don't mind using auto-focus in bright situations, but when it's dark the camera has to use this little focusing light that pretty much tells people I'm taking their picture and ruins any sort of candid moment I'm attempting. There has to be some sort of solution.

But then, maybe I'm simply not good at it.

I don't know, that's the thing, I just don't know. I know as artists we aren't suppose to work for praise. We're suppose to have a message that we want to deliver to an audience. What a bunch of egotistical nonsense. When I get up on stage or take a picture it's because I want someone to appreciate and respect what I'm doing. If the audience is unresponsive then I haven't done my job. I don't know a single actor who is indifferent to a bad review. Despite what they may say, it effects them.

When you untag a picture I take of you, it's like a bad review. I don't make a picture public unless it is a good picture of you. So when you snub it, it hurts. I'm like every other overly sensitive artist out there (meaning all of them), I don't like to see my art rejected on any level.

So of course, now I'm feeling all sad for myself being such a poor photographer. Oh, boo-hoo, Heather. I'm always so eager to begin brimming with self-pity a jealousy. Not this time, Miss Moats. This time I'm realize that all of my photographic issues are for the most part technical and can be solved by a bit more study. I'm going to realize I'm a lot better that many "photographers" out there despite my faults. I'm going to realize I've only really been doing this for two years and I'm not going to be perfect over night.

See, already in a more chipper mood! I'm also in a productive mood, which is a good thing with all the housework I need to do when I get home. It's amazing how easily my tiny apartment starts looking like a tornado went through. I'm going to admit something. I'm terribly messy.

So there you have it, another roller coaster ride through my highs and lows. And now, a picture that I took and like.

Not All Floridians are Crazy

I would like to think of myself as a pretty sane person within the vast spectrum of insanity despite the fact that I was born in Florida. In the past few years it has come to my attention that Florida has a pretty bad reputation for being filled with elderly curmudgeons and backwards thinking religious zealots. But we aren't all like that! But on second thought, I did get out of there as soon as possible.

I want to address the issue that I think links all of Florida's ignorant population together: The elderly.

Now, I don't usually mind old people. There are a lot of great ones out there. But, when they flock to my home state to retire and refuse to pay a state income tax because they don't believe they should be supporting an education system for children that aren't even related to them, I get a tad annoyed. Florida's school system is poor because no one is supporting it. This in turn feeds into an uneducated and ignorant population who burn sacred religious texts, put up massive confederate flags, and start complaining at any sort of hint their taxes might go up.

But despite this vicious cycle, I made it out okay and I know a few others who did too. It's unfortunate that we've seemed to abandon her. There are only so many days of 90 degree heat with 100% humidity and no breeze you can put up with. But I still have hope for our Southern most state. Maybe one day someone with a spine will be elected Governor and the state income tax that is long overdue will be implemented. It's unlikely with the geriatric populace shaking their canes angrily, but I can dream.

So please don't hate on all Floridians. Much like Islam, despite the common belief that we're all terrible, it's only a small percentage of the whole.

September

It's blustery and cool here in Chicago, the harbingers of autumn. After escaping the heated, sweaty grip of Florida, it's a welcome change. However, I can't help but feel some trepidation as my little city cools down. Undoubtably I'll blink and that fluffy white ice will be floating from the heavens, all too eager to leave my pale face ruddy.

But this winter, I'm prepared from the beginning. I'm now a one year veteran of the Chicago seasons. I know what to expect. I understand the neccessity of a healthy dose of vitamin D on those grey mornings that dissolve into grey days and grey weeks. I have a coat, I have a small collection of scarves, and I have a selection of hats. Bring it on, Chicago.

But I've skipped an enitire season, my favorite if I may say so. Fall. I come from a land where every tree is an evergreen, where we don gloves when it's 60 out. Florida doesn't do fall. Seeing the foliage erupt into red and yellow figurative flames, is an experience I can't imagine I'll ever tire of. There's a tree near my apartment that is one of the most magnificant sights to behold. It's this skinny little thing. It's leaves are sparse. But when it changes for fall, it's the most vibrant tree on the street.

It's a day like today I half wish I was still unemployed. I could take my netbook and sit in a park, get some lazy writing done while I soaked up the last few rays of summer. But I suppose we must all pay our dues before we can have such a lovely existence. Hopefully the thought will drive me to work harder.

Returning

For once I'm not writing to you from behind my large, green tinted, faux wood desk. I'm writing to you from not so sunny Orlando International Airport, Gate 124 waiting for a plane to take me back to Chicago. I've got my fingers crossed that this rain isn't going to delay my flight. The good news is that I have a direct flight so I should get there some time tonight even if it's not on time.

But enough boring chit-chat about my flight woes. I have a net-book that actually works, thanks to my dads computer savvy! Thus my ability to write to you in the middle of an airport. My trip to Florida has proven to be fruitful. If anything, it has reminded me of the number one reason I was eager to leave the Sunshine State: The sweltering heat. I just about died walking around outside for longer than an hour. Universal Studios/Islands of Adventure were fun if not slightly unbearable. The fake snow in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was almost a slap in the face.

And what a lovely way to bring us to Harry Potter. A grossly irrational and unhealthy passion has been awoken inside me. I'm in love with a world that doesn't exist. I'm finding myself hoping for the first time in eons that there is in fact a heaven and in that heaven I get to attend Hogwarts, play Quidditch, and save everyone from the dark lord (all as a Ravenclaw because, you know, I'm pretty much Luna Lovegood).

I bought a scarf and a tie and I'll be wearing them to the movie when it comes out. I'm crazy. I'm hung up on things that aren't at all real. But that's my childhood and has we all know, if I'm nothing else I'm nostalgic. Even now I'm planning when I can reread the books next.

Maybe all I want is make believe. That's not true. There are definitely people in this world that I love and want. I'm happy when I'm doing a show. But that in itself is make believe. I have a slight obsession when it comes to reading and writing about the news, but that doesn't make me happy. It makes me very frustrated and upset.

I need to stop thinking and start doing. My plight stems from this over ponderous nature of mine. When it comes to writing, I over think any story before I start writing to the point where I can't help but hate my ideas by the end.

Now I need to stop writing. I always seem to leave myself more pointlessly nervous than I intended.

Florida

Thursday morning, I am Florida bound. I'm going to go ahead and say I'm looking forward to this small escape from the hustle and bustle of dear old Chicago. Perhaps the knots in my muscles and the steady pressure on the inside of my forehead will leave me in peace for a fleeting few daiquiri sipping, crab munching, sun soaking, water splashing days.

Before I moved to Chicago, I never knew how much I needed peace. Complete silence is a rare commodity in a big city and being able to lay in bed with just your thoughts is nearly impossible. I've never meditated, but I think there's something about just being alone and quiet that's close.

I'm seeing myself becoming angry and unsettled. I'm not sure if that's the byproduct of Chicago or something that's grown in tandem. Maybe I read too much news. Maybe I'm just fixated on things that I have no way of changing. But I don't know if that's it. I read the news just as much in college. Back then I had the New York Times delivered to me!

But then I had a tendency for escapism. I would read the news religiously but then I would also read Harry Potter. Today I read the news and chase it with A People's History of the United States. I'm self defeating. I don't give myself a chance for naive happiness. Well now I'm sounding like a martyr, which I don't mean to. I don't think me wallowing in this puddle of worldly woe is going to make anything better. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever have the power to change the world. I'm neither rich nor charismatic enough.

I miss my kingdom of escape. The Magic Kingdom to be exact. I grew up with Disney World. I know it's every nook and cranny. I can quote the introduction to the Haunted Mansion. Nothing feels more like home than the chlorinated smell of Pirates of the Caribbean and the cool breeze on the WED Way People Mover. And now, going to Florida, I'm choosing a trip to Islands of Adventure to visit the Magical World of Harry Potter, over Disney. I feel as if I'm betraying my best friend.

Maybe this love of rides and fancy magic tricks is unhealthy. I don't think it is. Is it wrong to relive my childhood that I may strive to maintain the same wide eyed awe I held for the world then? This place where I can where funny hats, take pictures with large mice, and spend time with my parents, is my last bastion against adulthood, that sour state that spoils all of the fun.

I am a product of my generation, a twenty-something child, feet flailing to find footing in this black and white world. I don't understand why I have to "grow-up". I refuse to do so. I am determined to be happy and if that means ignoring what the baby boomers say I'm suppose to do, then so be it!

Dear Glenn Beck

You are not Martin Luther King Jr.

You are a jackal who feeds off the ignorance of Americans too gullible to research your erroneous statements. You are smart, there's no denying that. You and your friends at Fox have implemented an ingenious system. Via your fear mongering and hate spreading, you completely have the uneducated and poverty stricken in the palm of your hand. The rich don't have a need to fight to stay rich any longer, the poor do that for them.

I think about how drastically different our country would be if the lower class were afforded the same opportunities as the middle and upper. We would still have varying opinions, but they would be well informed. If we all went to college (or had a decent, well funded public education system) we would learn the importance of research (hopefully).

Unfortunately, this is not going to happen any time soon. The right wing media is going to see to that. The 1% of Americans who own 40% of our wealth do not want a more robust middle class.

When I think of Martin Luther King Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement, I think of a man who spoke truth to illuminate a terrible injustice that had been thrust upon a group of people for centuries. His cause was great. There was no need for him to spread rumors and lies. Glenn Beck is grasping at straws. By being sure in his convictions he convinces an alarmingly high percentage of Americans that our President is a communist Muslim (honestly I don't see why his religion matters one way or another, but that's another post).

I'm trying to maintain the idea that our country is merely ignorant, not stupid, but my self restraint is slipping. It's exhausting fighting an uphill battle against inaccuracies, lies, and intolerance, especially when they seem to be winning with no sure fire way to turn the tide.

Nostalgia

Today I miss London. It's been two too short years since I ventured over the pond and began the most exciting four months of my life to date. All at once, thoughts of BUNAC and living in England for a year are drifting around my nostalgic brain. But it could never be the same. No theatre classes, no study center, and most importantly, none of the same wonderful people that made it so spectacular in the first place. That chapter of my life is finished, and I'm having difficulty swallowing that.

When I really think back, it wasn't as if life were perfect in London like my memories are attempting to make me believe. I was homesick. I missed my family, my Sergio, my cat. Prices were outrageous. I think what I'm really pining for are my friends. We're all scattering across the U.S., starting our adult lives.

I came to Chicago completely alone. Sergio was in Virginia for my first two months and everyone else I had met maybe once or twice before. It was terrifying. I'm notoriously shy and the task of having to make friends completely on my own was daunting. But I did it. I'm pretty sure that most people even like me, and I like them. I've learned over the years that there is no good that comes from being catty even if someone is snarky to you. It doesn't make you feel better. I try to utilise that understanding as frequently as possible.

I wish my old friends could come to Chicago, but I know we all have our hopes and dreams. I think that despite our communications failing and our connections fading that I'll still have a couch to sleep on in pretty much every major US city for a very long time. I think the good that's come out of Facebook is that you feel connected even if you haven't spoken in years. I think that's a great thing.

So I'm going to smile and hold my head up high because I'm in Chicago and I know wonderful people! I've met my goals. The time has come to set new ones and move forward, only rarely stealing a glance in the rear view mirror.

An Artistic Post

Lately my blog has been about the frustration of politics and has lived very much in the macrocosm of my life. I thought it was time to take a step back and talk a little bit about what's happening now, in the artistic realm of my tender and erratic existence.

This past weekend, at about 4 am Sunday, I did a play. Tympanic Theatre Company was selected to be part of the Abbie Hoffman Theatre Festival at Mary Arrchie this year. Abbie Hoffman is 72 hours of non-stop theatre. It is insane, much like its namesake. Here I am thinking, 4 in the morning, we're going to have a few scattered company members in the audience. No, it's packed. More than that, it's packed with highly inebriated theatre goers thanks to the tradition of handing out beer to the viewers. Attempting to do a somewhat quiet show in that environment was somewhat of a struggle, but invigorating. I went from exhaustion to completely energized just standing by the bathrooms, waiting to go on.

To say I enjoyed the whole process would be a lie. Our time slot was 1:45. Having to wait an extra two hours, not fun. I understand that its a hippie theatre festival, but there's something to say for organization.

Last night I slept like I had never slept before. I'm actually surprised I heard my alarm go off this morning. But I feel well rested. Maybe I'm crashing slightly now, but it's that usual 2 O'clock feeling. I actually felt so creative today, I worked on my play. It might not be so bad. I even added a few more pages and introduced a new character. The new stuff really isn't so good, but it's out there now so I can mold it into something, hopefully, better.

I think all my creative juices have been spilt for today.

A People's History of the United States

Two days ago I finished A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. I'm a little overwhelmed and I'm taking a little time to digest it. It's one of those books that I know I'm not done with. I'm sure I'll be diving into its bibliography soon and examining his sources. In a year, I will be ready to read it again.

I was going to write a review, but I have trouble rounding out an opinion on something I've read or watched once. I enjoyed the book. It was written in a way I believe all history books should be written, vibrantly and with spunk. Too often we are left with the dry blandness of textbooks which strive to preach nothing but the facts. But when you leave out entire groups of people, whether Native American's or women, you are in fact writing biased material.

Nothing is unbiased. There are always multiple ways to look at every subject. Grey area permeates our lives and our history. It's okay to pick sides if you can intelligently support your argument. We should be teaching our children to be free thinkers, not to follow blindly traditional schools of thought. Present two or more sides to history if you can. When discussing Hiroshama and Nagasaki, look at both the reasons why they did it and why they shouldn't have. I have my own well informed opinion, and so should everyone else.

We allow our students to be lazy in their research which is why we have adults claiming Obama is a Muslim and that the dead plan for universal healthcare would have lead to "death panels". People don't read any more. The thing that's preached to the masses the most is the thing which is retained and believed. Fox news doesn't want an America of thinkers, they want an America of sheep. If we all researched claims made by the likes of Glenn Beck, Fox would lose the vast majority of their viewers. See, I don't have an issue with differing points of opinion, I have an issue with lying in order to protect the 1% of our nation that owns 40% of our wealth.

I'm an Idealist

I was told yesterday that I had a nice "text-book answer" in regards to my support of the Islamic Cultural Center (or Mosque as everyone insists on calling it despite that being one minute part of the whole) two blocks from Ground Zero. In tandem with this being a very condescending comeback intended as a "aw that's cute, now let the grown-ups talk" response, it made me wonder, what's wrong with a text-book answer?

To tell this religious group that they can not build on this private land is unconstitutional. There it is, cut and dry. What else is there to say? It's a text-book answer because it doesn't need an explanation.

I am not unsympathetic towards the families of the victims of 9/11. If Al Qaeda decided to set up shop two blocks away from Ground Zero, or hell, anywhere with in the United States, I would be the first one to protest, constitution or not. But Islam can not be blamed for the actions of radicals any more than Christianity can be blamed for Jonestown or the Oklahoma City Bombing. I understand that it must be very difficult for these people to separate Islam from terrorism, but this is America. We're suppose to rise above our enemies and recognize that innocents should not be punished for the actions of others.

As this title says, I am an idealist. I believe that we could live in a country that doesn't fight fruitless wars. I believe our military's budget could be safely and greatly diminished and our health care system vastly improved with that saved money. I believe our school system can be one of the best in the world. I believe we can put aside our religious differences and live side by side. If I didn't believe these things, I wouldn't fight for them, and if nobody fights, how could we even come close.

Real Life Story Telling

Whether you believe Steven Slater is a new American folk hero or not, you have to admit his dramatic exit makes for a great story. The truth is, we all love to hear about a martyr/dumb ass making some grand gesture in defiance of "the man". Whether what he did was wrong or right is moot.

I write a blog because I enjoy writing with truth. Even within my fictional exploits, elements of honesty must be woven within. I consider blogging my writing stretch. I start out with something out in the world, a happening, an opinion, and add something to it.

Steven Slater's story reads like fiction. If it were in a novel, would critics find it believable? I'm trying to figure out exactly what I'm trying to say here. I guess, I love it when something extraordinary happens in life because it becomes a clear example of how fiction technique mimics life. We see the effect of a folk hero like Robin Hood had on people, so authors write stories about them and orators recount their legends verbally.

Personally, it's nice to have a larger than life hero to look up to from time to time. I can't imagine listening to screaming babies, too loud iPods, and grumpy passengers inside a metal tube for hours every day with out eventually snapping. But let's be real, if you're going to snap, for gods sake, snap like Steven Slater: grab two beers and go down a slide.

Friday the 13th

So ladies and gentlemen, it's that spookiest of all Friday's, the 13th. Over all though, I haven't had too much bad luck as of yet (knock on wood). I woke up on time, I made it to work on time, and there was even coffee cake! In my A People's History of the United States I've made it to the feminist movement and for once I don't feel completely depressed by our countries history. I mean, this is the couple of decades where we really made some drastic headway. The little man (or woman) stood up to the Man and won a lot. Not everything, but that's a different blog post.

A good Friday. I guess if there is a little bad luck it would have to be these jeans I'm wearing. It's casual Friday which is awesome. However, I'm learning just because you can wear jeans, doesn't necessarily mean you should. Not when it's in the 90's outside. Dumb move, Miss Moats. However, the good luck is these are my favorite jeans and they do cute things for my bum.

Which brings me to my next point (this is going to be a slightly scattered post if you could not already tell) I had an epiphany concerning my body this morning. I was walking by a store window and I checked myself out, you know, just to make sure everything in order. But something struck me about this profile, full length view. The reason I have trouble fitting into size four jeans isn't really my (small)belly pooch. It's the fact that I have a little junk in my trunk.

Now this may not seem so mind blowing to most people, but the truth is, I wear a lot of skirts and slacks and I don't own a full length mirror. It never occurred to me that my tight pants had anything to do with my rump. A nice little boost of self confidence on a Friday morning never went awry.

So now that I'm done being all girly and fawning over my own body, the photography bug is biting again. I'm feeling the need to take some epic pictures, like grandiose landscapes a la Ansel Adams. Unfortunately, the Midwest is a little on the flat side. I want to go to the desert. Maybe the Badlands. Or maybe old west style with massive red arches of stone. There was this photographer, and I feel like such a dunce now that I can't remember his name or find him through Google, who drove around America taking picture that were his interpretation of, well, America. This was like in the 50's. I think our fair country deserves new documentation.

We as a nation have changed significantly. While we've gained a lot, a majority of our current issues strike a disturbingly familiar cord. Racism, the idea of the existence of a second class citizen, sexism are all alive and well despite that they are now taboo. When a woman is raped, a police officer might not blame her to her face these days, but the underlying belief that "she had it coming" is still prevalent.

Maybe one day I'll buy a tiny trailer and head out "look for America" as Simon and Garfunkle put it. Maybe that's what I'm working for, why I put $100 away every pay day. Maybe in two years I'll pack it all up and take it on the road before I throw myself at the mercy of grad school.

Plans, plans, plans, so many plans. Let's start solidifying some of these plans, shall we. Actual adventures, now that would be an awesome blog.

A Respect for Food

When it comes to eating, I don't follow the best of diets. When I go to a bar and grill do I opt for the limp salad? No! I order some chicken fingers dipped in buffalo sauce and fries. Maybe some Mac and Cheese if they have it. But I leave with this guilt deep fried in grease. Thanks to a speedy metabolism I'm far from the 300 pounds I should be. Perhaps I could stand to lose those five to ten magical pounds that every girl says she could, but for the most part, I'm happy with my weight and silhouette.

I wish my insides could say the same. My cholesterol is strangely high for a 23 year old girl and I have a sensitive stomach that leaves me nauseous generally at some point on any given day. I'm really beginning to believe this stems from a disrespect I have for both my body and for food.

So here I am, on my blog, making an announcement. I'm not going to promise to abstain from every cheeseburger I encounter. When chocolate cake falls into my lap like manna from heaven, who am I to say no? But I will strive to eat less of those oral delights which are slowly clogging my arteries and leaving me lethargic. Maybe next time I'm at a bar I'll order the light (ick!) beer. Maybe I won't go that extreme. I mean, it's beer, not even worth drinking if it doesn't taste good!

Plagiarism

Stanley Fish of the New York Times is down playing the moral significance of plagiarism.

It's a sad, sad day when an "intelligent" individual comes to the rescue of lies and deceit. If we are going to consider untruths a moral sin, then plagiarism must come with it. Plagiarism is not about using someone else's idea, it's about stealing them. It's about taking a preexisting thought and repackaging it as your own.

I refuse to believe that students don't understand plagiarism. It's absolutely insulting to my generation to say we can't comprehend. From my Middle school years onward, plagiarism, what it is and what it isn't, has been shoved down my throat relentlessly. Honestly, if students don't get it, they're just not listening. It's their own damn fault. More likely than not, plagiarism stems from laziness and disinterest. There are a million things we'd rather be doing than researching a paper on Napoleons failed invasion of Russia.

I understand admission to college isn't as large a marker for intelligence as it once was, but it means something. Florida State might not be Harvard, but you still have to perform decently in high school to get in. College students may under-play their smarts (ie: sorority girls, jocks, pot heads, etc.) and maybe common sense is in short supply (ie: they think they can get away with plagiarism), but they know what their doing. Hold these people responsible for their actions. Don't undercut their guilt by saying "Oh, they didn't really know what they were doing". A college degree is becoming worthless because we let these cheaters get away with it and graduate. It's bad enough that we're coddling high school student. In college, it's inexcusable.

Grad School Update

Hello folks. As the GRE looms ever nearer and my 20 page writing sample has yet to begin itself, I'm starting to feel a bit unsure about grad school. I know I would love studying history. I would love teaching, dramaturging, and writing about it. But I don't think I'm finished with this chapter in my life. I am not ready to give up concrete pieces of happiness for uncertainty. So, I am officially announcing my postponement of grad school applying.

So here I am, prepared to spend the next year examining the pieces of my life. I want to develop myself, strengthen those talents which I know I possess. Perhaps I may succeed in making myself a healthier person both physically and mentally.

I probably won't accomplish much. Come August 9th, 2011, I'll most likely be just as bewildered as I am now. I won't be a professional writer, photographer, or actor. But maybe I'll have written a few one acts or short stories. Maybe I'll have taken a few more head shots. Maybe I'll have been in a few plays. Maybe my hidden temper won't be quite so fiery.

I'm really young. Maybe it's time I stop worrying about the future for five minutes and embrace the ephemeral present.

Being 23

Being 23 feels an awful lot like being 22. It might even feel like being 21, but that's too long ago to accurately say. I wonder what that age happens to be when there's too many years to put the correct number of candles on the cake. I hope it's not this year. I may not have a cake and I'd hate to miss my last opportunity!

May I just point out what a pretty good week or two this has been?

1) Proposition 8: Unconstitutional.

2) Arizona Anti-Immigration Law: Struck down.

3) Shark Week: Sharks.

4) President Obama's birthday: Yesterday.

Now, you know, I don't want to take credit for all of these amazing happenings, but don't you think it's a little too coincidental that they're all happening so close to my day of birth? I never thought I was magical, but you know, maybe I'm the real Sookie Stackhouse. Get me in a room with Glenn Beck and we'll see if a bright light erupts from my hands.

Okay, so maybe I'm not the cause of all of this joy. Maybe amazing things just happen in August. Perhaps I'm just a byproduct of these miracles.

And I'm done fawning on myself.

But seriously, pretty good week. I got some flowers this morning from my handsome Latino boyfriend, Sergio. As much as I would love to say I'm one of those girls who thinks flowers are a waste, that they just exist so we can watch them die, I freaking love flowers. These have the added bonus of smelling nice in tandem with looking gorgeous.

In a mere half hour I'll be munching on delicious Italian food with the HR ladies here at work. I must say, for my first "real" job, I can't imagine anything much better than this.

Year 22 was pretty great. Let's see if we can top it in 23!

Prop 8: Unconstitutional

A step has been taken in California that will inch the United States closer the ideal country of acceptance and tolerance that so many of us ache for. For well over a century, the under-dog in America has been fighting tooth and nail for rights that were once limited to the white, male, straight, and rich. What began as workers unionizing for safer work environments and living wages evolved into the women's suffrage movement, evolved into the civil rights movement, evolved into the feminist movement. Here we are on cusp of success for tolerance and respect's next major victory.

I am proud of the countless people who stand up and refuse to let the government dictate who you may or may not love. I am proud of the California legal system acknowledging what is not constitutional and what is merely religious, right-wing hate that has no business in our law.

I hope this is a wake up call to our federal government that our country is ready for a change. The issue of gay rights is NOT a state issue, it is a federal issue. People all over our country are being treated like inferiors. It's up to you to protect them and give them the rights they deserve as human beings!

Studies have shown beyond a reasonable doubt that homosexuality is no more a choice than the color of your skin, but even if it was a choice, it's none of your business who someone chooses to love! These right-wing, bible thumping, tea party movement nut-jobs scream that we are heading towards socialism and communism. They fling the words "freedom" and "liberty" around, well, freely. Yet these are the same people who would exterminate all the many colors of "different" in the US, whether that means homosexuals or liberals or immigrants, illegal or legal. Tell me, how is restricting who marries who freedom? How is forcing your Christian standards on everyone different from a Islamic country like Iran forcing their Muslim standards on their citizens?

We have a long road ahead of us, but we will win this fight. If something can be gleaned from American history, it's that we are a persistent bunch and that while it takes baby steps, eventually we do persevere.

CTA Etiquette, an Oxymoron

I was once in love with the CTA. Finally I lived in a city that didn't require a driven commute. Anywhere worth getting to is accessible via the "L". It was pretty wonderful. But the people, the inconsiderate, smelly, irritable people, have completely spoiled it for me and left me longing for the sanctuary of my car. So let me break down a few of my CTA pet peeves and hopefully relieve my transit headache.

1) Sick People
If you are sick, please do not ride the "L". This is a shout out to the runny nosed man sitting next to me this morning on the train. Besides the annoying/disgusting sound of you blowing your nose every five seconds into a filthy tissue, I can't afford to get sick! I know, come fall I'll have my annual flu, I don't need one in August. It's completely inconsiderate of you to bring your virus into what basically equates to a germ incubator. You shouldn't even be going to work! If you're sick, stay home, or at least don't bring your bug into a situation that will give it the best chance of transmittal.

2) People on the Aisle Seat Who Won't Stand So You Can Get Out
Is it really so fucking hard to stand up? This one really burns me up. These people assume that twisting their knees into the aisle to you can shuffle by is good enough. It's not. I don't like putting my butt in your face any more than you like having it there. I don't like having to touch a complete stranger, let alone smush against one just to exit my seat. Just stand up for five seconds and then, guess what, you get to sit down again! I know! Who knew?

3) People Who Don't Shower/Don't Wear Deodorant/ Wear too Much Perfume/Cologne
You know it's going to be crowded. You know it's going to be hot. You know people are going to be trapped with you for 30 minutes. You would think this would mean people would make an effort to smell decent, but no. At the worst, these stinky people will attempt to mask their odor with a bath of perfume, which generally leaves me more nauseated than natural body stink.

So there you have it, the people I hate most on the CTA. There are others such as the person who thinks their bag deserves a seat more than the 88 year old woman, or the person who elbows their way onto a train that already feels like a sardine can, but talking about them in length would only prolong this need to throw something and see it shatter. So instead I'll think calm thoughts, like driving in my car down an empty highway, listening to Petula Clark's "Don't Sleep in the Subway".

Friday Drizzle

It's Friday and quiet. It makes the ever present electric whir from the overhead lights more pronounced. It makes me lazy and tired. I'm eyeing the box of candy on my desk and doing my best to keep these cravings at bay.

The day before yesterday was a big day. My anniversary with Sergio. We've been in Chicago together for a year. When I think back, sometimes it feels like a month, other times it feels like we've been together a blissful eternity. It's been a good year, filled with growth and advancement. We've been anything by stagnant.

I'm sounding rather clinical today. I'm real excited that it's almost the weekend. The only thing is, I wish it was the weekend. It's only 3h45m away. So close I can almost taste it.

But instead of blabbering on about this or that in this wildly unstructured manner, let's talk about something. Let's talk about Florida.

I never in a million years thought I'd being saying this, but, I kind of miss Florida. Not all of it, of course. I could live without the humidity and pushy tourists, but there are some really great things about my birth-state. Disney World. I miss Disney World like the desert miss' the rain. Call me kitsch or crazy, but sometimes I just want an excuse to recreate my childhood, naive and lovely as it was. If I could just magically ride the WED-Way People mover right now, I couldn't be sad about anything for at least a week.

The weather. Yes it was hot almost every single freaking day of the year, but at least the sun was out. The rain is on a regular schedule. Storm clouds roll in at around 3 or 4 and they're gone by 6, perfect for an afternoon siesta. It's rare that you have an all day gloomy affair like today.

And of course, as corny as it may sound, I miss my family. I didn't realize how much I would. I don't really know what else to say, just that I do.

So there you have it, a brief glimpse at my nostalgia for a state I no longer belong to. I don't know if I could find lasting happiness along its sundrenched shores or alligator riddled swamps, but it gave me a lot while I was there. I can't wait to visit in September.

Religion, Insanity's Scapegoat

Let me start off by saying that not all religion is bad. I know some people who are devoted to living a moral and just life and make a serious attempt not to judge others. If God is what you need to get through life, then I'm happy you've found him. But the vast majority of religion is a scapegoat.

I will be speaking from a mostly Christian view point, it's the religion I'm most familiar with (specifically Catholicism). Religion has been used to justify terrorism from its beginnings. Torture and murder is okay as long as you're doing it for God, right? Christians, Jews, Muslims, and even Buddhists are all guilty of this at some point or another. Atheists aren't any better, but at least we're honest about our motives. Is it human nature to want to dominate the world? I have no idea, but it sure seems like it.

I'm upset by these people who are pissed off about building a mosque two blocks from Ground Zero. The entire Islamic faith did not do this to our country. A few fucked up radicals did. Would anyone complain if someone wanted to build a church next to where the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building used to be located, the location of the Oklahoma City Bombing? I don't think so, yet Timothy McVeigh was a Christian.

I think it would be a beautiful thing to build this mosque. Let the world see that despite our wounds, we proudly accept all faiths. We don't stereotype and lump people together thanks to the violent and unforgivable acts of a few people. Maybe it's naive, but perhaps by throwing open our arms to the peaceful followers of religion, it may help to convince their misguided brethren to put aside their weapons. Fighting fire with fire doesn't work, can't we at least try another tactic. If we continue to alienate the Islamic community, how can we expect them to be on our side?

Let's counteract intolerance with tolerance and hate with love.

Good Morning

One of the few things I enjoy about being up at 7 in the morning is how cool everything is. After a weekend of relentless sun, a reprieve, no matter how short, is welcomed. I'm attempting to ignore the fact that later this week it should be in the mid-90's. Like so much candle wax, I may melt.

I'm finding it difficult to comprehend how a city that can easily hit -10 or below on a mid-February morning can give Florida temperatures a run for their money come July. Even the sticky humidity can be just as unbearable. I'm left lethargic and exhausted. The sun literally weakens me.

I'm looking out of the skylights and I can see the suns light as it begins to bake Chicago once again. Yet another day I'm thankful for AC and more than happy to pay my nearly doubled electric bill.

Going Home

I just bought a round trip ticket to Cocoa Beach. Well, technically into Orlando airport (thank you Southwest for your direct flights), but the ultimate destination is my parents new condo snuggled between the Banana River and the Atlantic Ocean.

I'm looking forward to it. Sometimes the city can be overwhelming. Like commuting. Ordinarily I don't mind my commute. In the morning there's always a seat on the "L", I read my copy of the Red Eye, and basically just zone out for 40 minutes. The afternoons are vastly different. The AC doesn't work. People jam elbows into you in order to squeeze onto an already overcrowded train. For a girl who gets motion sickness rather easily, it's a recipe for disaster.

I'm starting to think I might be rather delicate. That I get squeezy riding in the backseat of a car, that I feel faint if I stand up too fast, that I can't go to the gym without feeling both, is not something I'm proud of. For someone who is as strong in their opinions as I am, physical weakness is a hindrance.

I love Chicago, but sometimes I think all I need is a cabin on a mountain somewhere, a computer, and my cat. But then I'd probably be lonely. I'm on the verge of giving up on finding what I want. I'd settle for what's good for me at this point.

An Uninspired Post

I don't have much time to write. Quite frankly only a very minuscule part of me actually feels like writing right now, but I thought it might be time to push myself to do some whilst uninspired. After all, I doubt the greatest writers felt like writing every day. Only 1/10 of any art is inspiration, the rest is good old hard work. Any one who says otherwise is most likely lazy.

So what to write about? I'm at work and the busy day is coming to a close. People are trickling out and I'm stuck behind my desk wondering if someone is going to call between now and 5:15 trying to sell us something. I feel bad for the salesmen. What a horrible job. You're entire livelihood depends on convincing someone they need something they probably don't in fact need.

But I answer the phone. I connect people who need to be connected, or at least try to.

I'm constantly distracted by this idea of future me. I'm so hung up on this idea of individuality and the need for self-expression, but maybe the last thing the world needs is another artist. Maybe the world needs an artist who's not afraid face reality, enter mainstream and even teach our future or even lead it.

I'm completely in love with the idea of teaching. Maybe it's my youthful innocence, but I want to inspire people and give them hope and knowledge. Despite our tarnished history, I have an abundance of hope for humanity. I've seen the trail of bloodshed we've left in our wake, but I've also seen the blossoming of acceptance and understanding. As our ability to communicate with one another improves, I can't help but imagine our xenophobia, homophobia, and pretty much any type of peoplephobia will decline. Knowledge, real, honest to goodness knowledge not propaganda is the best weapon against hatred.

I'm sounding like a hippy, I know. Let's just love one another, man. Do I ever think we'll have a world without war or crime? No. But that is no reason to stop fighting for Utopia. If we stop, we'll slip further and further back. We have to fight to tread water. We have to fight harder to make headway.

A Happy Post

I've been grumpy and stressed for a while now. In order to prove that I'm still happy I have decided to blog cheerfully today and bring to light all of those things which make me happy.



Let's start simple with a little thing I like to call the blueberry. Blueberries are delicious. Blueberries are in season. Blueberries are currently in my work fridge begging to be eaten. Probably my favorite fruit, when eaten a pint at a time, perks me up, softens my skin, and never fails to brighten my day. Maybe some of the effects are in my head, but still what's wrong with a healthy placebo every once in a while.

Next we have books. The smell of books, the texture of books, the content in books. I know if I ever stop reading or learning, life will becoe completely meaningless. What's the point of being an empty shell? But more than that, running my finger under the lines, smearing the print slightly, flipping a thin page or a thick page, hearing the crack as it closes. As long as I've got a good book, there's nothing to complain about!

True Blood. We are all allowed our guilty pleasures, mine just happens to be a soap opera about vampires. I need to know which fanciful creature Sookie will be seduced by next week. Will Tara ever find a good man? What crazy/stupid thing will come out of Jason's mouth on Sunday? So good! No. Not good. But completely consuming.

There you have it. Happiness. Of course there are countless other things that make me happy, in fact, many that leave me more happy than these, but I'm running out of time. Work is soon coming to a close. I must run off to photography. Ta-ta.

A Life Built on the Bent Backs of Others

Our lives are the result of countless people who suffered and died in hopes of a better tomorrow, and we don't even learn about them. It's disgusting that you open an average high school textbook and our nations past Presidents and corporate elite are depicted as heros who birthed a minimum wage and safe working conditions. These text books fail to mention the uphill battle that hundreds of thousands of people fought in order to work less than 12 hour or more days and make more than $3 a week. The United State's presidents of the 1800's were no heros. They were elected by the wealthy to make the rich like Rockefeller and Carnegie richer and keep the poor in their place.

I'm reading A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. The amount of our history that is left out of curriculum, not only in high school but college as well, is staggering. Our history is polished and cleaned, sanitized. We are taught to be proud of this grand nation filled with pioneers and courageous pilgrims who founded a land of equality and freedom. But this is not the reality of our beginning.

Europeans knocked out 90% of the native population with disease alone. I am sure the Europeans can not be completely blamed for this. Could they have known how devastating small pox would be for a community who had evolved to resist parasites not virus'? But Europeans did know these diseases were contagious and occasionally used a form of biological warfare by throwing diseased bodies into the villages of the natives (this was also practiced in Europe).

Later on, the US Government would sign documents promising Native Americans land West of the Mississippi. Over and over they broke these contracts and kept pushing them further and further as the US expanded. Cherokees made an attempt to adapt to the European way of life. They were still kicked out.

There's really way too much to go into in a blog post. I want you to know that I am not anti-American. I don't believe current citizens of the United States can be held accountable for what our ancestors did. But, we do need to accept what happened. We need to know and then we need to move forward keeping our tarnished history in mind. What our country professes to be be is a beautiful thing. But what we say we are and what we are seem to be separate. Let us strive to be a country where equality exists to the extent that it can.

We have come a long way since our founding, but it's a delicate balance. I feel we could so easily fall backwards. A fear at the fore front of my mind is the disappearance of unions. An alarming amount of people fail to understand their importance. They think they ask for too much. They think that the government can and will protect the workers. However, I find it hard to believe the government is going to protect the individual when corporations via lobbyists are pouring millions of dollars into the pockets of senators and congressmen. We need entities that can stand up to those forces. The government can't make certain coal mines and oil rigs are safe (most likely due to hefty donations from both industry's). Could they take on the added responsibility of insuring individuals rights and safety?

In a perfect world, Ayn Rand characters would actually exist. Business men would be honest and as long as people performed their duties they would be okay. But that's not this world. A libertarian world won't work any more than a communist world will. Extremes fail.

And there you have it. My angry rant for the week.

Entitlement

My generation is getting a bad rap. But is it earned? Out of all of my friends, I think I am closest to this idea of entitlement. Which isn't to say I believe I am entitled to anything. I have parents who have have been financially successful. Not rich by any means, but solidly middle class. Because of this, I have been, for lack of a better word, blessed. I made it through college almost completely debt free (the only loan I took out was to study abroad in London) and moved to Chicago without a job and virtually penniless, all through the love and generosity of my parents. But does this make me "entitled"?
I am well aware of how lucky I am. I have two wonderful parents who I can fall back on. But the truth is, I am fighting not to. I don't want to depend on my parents. It's not fair to myself and it is most certainly not fair to them. I want to succeed. I want to be able to buy my own plane ticket home for Christmas.
But here I am, about to lean on them once again as I get all my ducks in a row to potentially go to grad school. I'm a never ending drain of money. I take take take, and what do I give?
Life is expensive. Education is expensive. If I go to grad school, get my doctorate in history, where's the proof I can even get a teaching job? I see this picture of myself, thirty years older, twenty pounds heavier, sitting behind a desk answering phones, and writing a blog about everything I'm going to do.

A Show

It's been a long time since I've been in a show. At least two years. So I suppose it's only normal that the week leading up to my Chicago theatrical debut is filled with pre-show jitters and tiny butterflies darting around in my stomach. But it's a good show, a strong show, a show I can be proud of with everyone involved as talented as you could hope.

So I have a good job and I'm involved with a great show. I'm taking a few pictures that I'm proud of. Life is exactly where I wanted it a year ago. Why is it that we always want more? Can't I just be satisfied doing this for a couple of years at least? Nope. It seems to me that utter happiness and contentment is forever just on the other side of doing this or doing that. I'm only 22 and I'm getting a little tired of chasing dreams.

I am happy, don't get me wrong, just antsy. What's going to give me the life I want? But for now I'm going to be happy with what I have, a great job, a great show, a great cat, and an even greater boyfriend.

For all you lovelies who want to see my show, here's some info:



EXTINCTION FANTASIES

two apocalyptic romances by Daniel Caffrey*

Directors: Timothy Bambara*, & Jamie Bragg

CAST: Jennifer Betancourt, Mick Greco*, Zach Livingston, Heather Moats, Jared Nell, Chrissy Weisenburger*

A deadly plague has quietly destroyed the tiny, rural town of Tarker, wiping out nearly the entire population. Amidst the fading coughs and approaching gunfire, several survivors spark up new romances and repair wounded relationships in this pair of fractured love stories that begin at the end of the world.

Playing at the Side Project Theatre (1439 W. Jarvis Ave.)

JULY 2ND and 3RD at 9:00pm

JULY 4TH through 18TH - Sundays at 7:00 p.m., Thursdays at 9:00 p.m.

TICKETS $15 OR PAY-WHAT-YOU-CAN

Tickets available by visiting www.tympanictheatre.org, e-mailing admin@tympanictheatre.org or calling 773-442-2882

* Denotes company member