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30 September 2011 @ 12:51 pm
Last night a former director of mine and man whose opinion I highly respect told me that he thought I could really make it in professional theatre. I had pretty much given up on any fantasies about acting as a career, and when he said it my first reaction was, "Oh god. Don't tell me that." He said he'd seen me act circles around a lot of Equity actors he'd known, and I just. Ughh. It's something I've always wanted to do, and I'd finally come to terms with the simple reality of not being good enough.

Everything feels really quiet and almost painfully autumn today. I'm sitting here in my bathrobe and wrapped in a quilt, listening to Grouper's Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill on repeat, feeling pretty content but also nostalgic. I really need to kick the nostalgia. It's a bad habit.

Michael and I got into an argument last night because I told him he wasn't as empathetic as he thinks he is, and then he called me a sociopath and said that my friends wouldn't like me if they "knew the real me." We've both apologized since then but his words keep lingering with me. I can't seem to shake them. Maybe he's right. I don't know.

I'm going to the birthday party of a friend of a friend tonight. Let's hope that's a good time and lifts my spirits a little.

Current Mood: calmcalm
07 September 2011 @ 12:30 am
Every time I look at LJ I get a little bit upset thinking how my paid account is going to waste, so I guess I will make a post.

Hello! Classes started last week. I'm only taking two this semester, and hopefully only one in the spring, and if I'm lucky and can get all my shit in a row between now and then, I'll be able to finally graduate with my (completely useless) Associates Degree. I just want to be done at that shitty school, y'know?

Maybe I should try to update this shit once a day or something. I don't know. Anyway, here is a video of some cats, and one of them is shaved like a lion.

On Sunday my dipshit of a manager pissed me off for the very last time, and so I put my notice in on the spot. I dropped off an ~official~ copy yesterday afternoon, and Jeff asked, "Are you quitting?"

"Hell yes, I am," I said, and stomped my ass over to the office and dropped my resignation letter on the counter.

He laughed and told me he was proud of me, and the whole time Linda-- world's shittiest manager and the best reason for leaving a job I've ever encountered-- was giving me sideeye. She finally came up to me before I left, simpering little face all screwed up like she was afraid of me, and asked if I was planning on working out the rest of the week. I told her yes, I was going to work out my notice and the letter was on the counter, and she nodded and slithered away into the dark recesses of her little office cave.

I cannot explain to you how elated I am to have quit. I feel like writing an epic poem about the joy and relief I feel, like I could fly, like I could go to work tonight and punch some dickbutt customer in the face.

Well, I could do that anyway, but now that couldn't fire me if I did BECAUSE I'M QUITTING. In one week, I will never have to work there ever again for as long as I fucking live.

Excuse me, I need to go weep manly, manly tears.

05 August 2011 @ 12:52 am
oh hey lj

idk what to post on this shit anymore which sucks because i have a paid account. i guess i should use it more.

i have new hair:

also true blood is really dumb and entertaining and i am hooked. please rec me porn.

that's it!
16 May 2011 @ 05:10 am
Today Courtney and I went to the hippie hiker festival in Damascus. We pregamed in her car and then wandered around sipping "sweet tea" from plastic sports cups, watchin' all the hippies through the haze~. Went to Whistlepig for lunch, had bbq and more beer, and then I got a super sweet hair wrap from a nice lady who only charged me $10 because I was her last customer. Went back to Court's house and drank mudslides and watched a documentary about Chaz Bono, which was really sweet.

I almost bought a new hoop from some dudes but they were jerks so I didn't. Anyway, here's a video of me practicing my breaking. The music isn't my fault. It's Fred's. Blame her.

02 May 2011 @ 03:34 pm
I went to my house for the first time yesterday.

I didn't want to. I'd had an hour of sleep the night before and then I'd worked all day, and I had fully intended on going home and catching a nap. I was also maybe avoiding the situation a little, and my family knew it. Cassidy (my cousin who is more like an older sister in some ways) started texting me, telling me I need to come over, that it would be better to do it when there were people there to cry with me.

I knew her intentions in saying that, and I knew they were true, but it still pissed me off. I didn't want to cry with anyone. I just wanted to be left alone.

So I went, and I promised myself I wouldn't cry. I put on my stupid Strider shades like they would give me the power of stoicism, anything, anything to keep from breaking down, because I knew that if it happened the panic attack that would set in would be unreal and all-consuming.

I made it down Maple Street, past the thrift store I liked to shop in (it had been gutted), past the gas station where I get doughnuts and coffee on my way to work (gone), past the pizza place where my Mom used to pick up dinner at least once a week (gutted too, and with a huge yellow X spray-painted on the side, a garish number 2 over it, meaning the place had been searched, and two found dead.) I did really well until I made it onto my street, when I started shaking like a leaf. Everything was too flat and open, and I found myself struggling to even recognize things.

It gets a little fuzzy after that. There were people everywhere in my front yard. I felt like an intruder as I pulled up and parked my car haphazardly in the grass. I could see them ready to swoop upon me for hugs, and when I stumbled out of the car, the first thing I said was, "Please don't touch me. Do not touch me." I think I told my Mom that if she tried, I'd punch her in the face. I don't know. I just stood there, leaning against my car like a douchebag, watching everything around me with my arms crossed to keep them from shaking.

Eventually my Mom managed to lead me away and around the back of the house, where all our belongings are strewn throughout the backyard and field. I found the teddy bear my first boyfriend gave me lying dejected, face down in grass, damp and covered in dirt. A little further on, a baby picture of my sister, pieces of my favorite coffee mugs, the old-fashioned bread tin that sat on the kitchen counter for my whole life. Mom was talking to me, but I was barely listening. I stood there staring at the house, and the sun was going down and light hit against the kitchen window, and it was so fucking familiar and suddenly I was 11 and standing next to the swing set we had as kids, looking through the window and I could almost see my Mom in there cooking dinner and that's when I lost all my shit.

She grabbed me and told me to let it out, and I just stood there with noodle arms, one hand clutching that stupid teddy bear and hyperventilating for all I was worth. At some point she left me alone, and I'm not even sure how long I stood in the backyard. I felt outside myself, and I could hear these awful wailing noises coming out of my throat, and the whole dining room wall was in the grass at my feet in one big piece, electrical plugs and all, and everything felt upside down.

I don't remember how I got back around the house, except that Cassidy held onto my arm and led me as I shuffled zombie-style to a spot on the grass and just sort of collapsed there, still hanging onto that bear.

It took about an hour for the shock to wear off, and I guess I was okay after that. I took some photos. We went inside, and I was standing there in the dark, looking over my Mom's shoulder through the kitchen doorway, the one that used to lead into the dining room. That door now leads outside, and-- y'know how in dreams, reality sort of folds in on itself, and familiar places become strange, like you're seeing two places at once? It was exactly like that. So surreal, and it gave me a weird kind of vertigo that made everything spin.

God, I should probably wrap this up.

That house had been part of my family for generations. My Mom's grandparents lived there, and she and her sisters used to spend summers with them there. When my grandfather died, my grandmother moved the whole family to Virginia, and into that house. My Mom and Dad moved into it themselves when I was one year old. It's the house where my sister was brought home from the hospital, where we grew up together, where we built our lives.

I keep telling myself we were lucky, and it's the truth. My family is alive. It's just that it still hurts, y'know?

Here's a video that is going around on Facebook right now. Most of the photos are from my hometown. The music is pretty cheesy, but I think it highlights what's actually going on really well.

Love you all.
30 April 2011 @ 01:17 pm
Wednesday night, my hometown was pretty much wiped off the map.

It's strange. No one was prepared for it. When it hit, my entire family was asleep, and my Mom just barely woke up in time to save my sister. They got through the door, and the second they did, the house started caving in around them.

I was in Damascus at Courtney's, and we were standing outside on her front porch, watching it lightning off in the distance and smoking cigarettes. It wasn't even raining, and so when my sister called me crying, saying the house was gone, it was just gone, we don't have a house, Kelly, we don't have a house-- I just. I didn't understand. My aunt lives just a few miles away, and I woke her up when I called to make sure they were safe, but the storm didn't hit there. I tried to tell her what happened, and she said, "What?" like she didn't believe me. I don't blame her. I still don't believe it.

Just a few days before, I was going through old Photobuckets, and I found these photos that I took of my house when I was in high school. I remember thinking at the time, "I'm going to want to remember what it looks like one day." I'm obsessively nostalgic that way, but it's still odd that I would think that. Now I'm just really glad that I did.

I still haven't been to the house, mostly because the town is like a warzone, and every entryway is blocked by police. I've seen it from the interstate, though, and my aunt took pictures which I'll post now.

This photo was taken from pretty much the same angle. That room jutting out closest to the camera in the first photos? It's gone. Like it was never there. That was the room my sister was in when the tornado hit, the room my Mom just barely got her out of.

That pile of rubble is the trailer next door that my grandmother lived in when I was growing up, where I spent every summer, where we ate breakfast before school while Mom was at work, where she put us on the bus.

The back deck and what's left of the dining room. (When I was little, I used to call it "The Diamond Room" and thought it was called that because it was for fancy dinners.)

I don't know. I just feel-- empty. That is my whole fucking life, guys. Every moment of my childhood and well into adulthood is pretty much right fucking there, and now it's just gone. The claims adjuster seems to think the entire house will have to be demolished, and now my family has no home.

I just feel so helpless.

Anyway, Michael and I still don't have power at our house, so I will not be around much. I'm at the college right now yoinking power and WiFi before work. We have beer and Mexican Jesus candles, though, so I guess we'll be okay.

I'm just gonna state for the record here that I am so, so thankful that my family is okay. Some people on our street weren't so lucky. Please look around right now and be thankful for everything that you have, guys. That's all I ask.
06 March 2011 @ 03:10 am

Michael and I are here at his parents' house because we have tickets to see Bright Eyes tomorrow night at The National in Richmond.

Augh, guys. I know I've seen C six trillion times and so it's not even ~him (that part might actually be pretty awk in light of what happened), but DAT MUSIC. Michael and I were srs bsnsly rocking out to old school stuff in the car on the way up here and man, I don't even give a fuck if it's "lame" to love Bright Eyes. That is some stupid, nonsensical bullshit. There is no other artist whose music resonates with me on so many different levels. IT IS JUST SO GOOD and the new album is a fucking masterpiece and alkjaldkfjalkdfj RAH RAH RAH RAH

The point is, this is my favorite band and I've only seen them once, and it was in 2005. I am so stoked for this show. I could pee. Um, give me a moment.

Okay, I'm over it.

In other news, money is still tight but it'll be okay. I'm trying to find a car but it's not really panning out as quickly as I'd hoped. Auditions for the new show are on Tuesday. Things are still sort of weird (ie a big fucking mess) in lots of different areas but I am distracting myself with Zingled and doodling adorable bull-horned aliens all over everything. (I've actually been busting out the anatomy books to practice figure drawing. HARDCORE.)

I wish Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex was as good as its theme song promises.

Okay. SLEEP.
Current Mood: excitedexcited
04 March 2011 @ 07:51 pm
It's completely ridiculous just how accurately this woman sings my life.

02 March 2011 @ 10:36 pm
Dave and Tavros have a dream bubble sleepover party. I guess bein' dead ain't so bad, is it?

Current Mood: jubilantMY OTP. LET ME SHOW YOU IT.
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