Woof

Sometimes feelings are gross. Sometimes I wish I could go all Vampire Diaries-esque and "turn my feelings off," but that would be weird.

(Once upon a time I started watching The Vampire Diaries just to get the gist so I could gain information for a persuasive research paper in English 2010 about how Count Von Count [Sesame Street] affected all of vampire fiction from the 1970s on... And then I proceeded to watch the entire show. I picked a team. I cried, I swooned. I cried some more. And that wasn't the only vampire fiction I immersed myself in at that time. But, long story short I wrote a damn good paper and I got an A).

So, in The Vampire Diaries sometimes the vampy-folk shut off their emotions (usually during a dramatic, emotional fiasco), only to eventually turn them back on (during some dramatic, emotional fiasco). I'm trying to sound all cynical, but lezbehonest, I cried. All the times. Sometimes I spoke aloud to the Netflix, as if it could do anything about what I was watching.
Lest you think I'm actually cynical... Nah. Just awkward about liking things I could get made fun of for liking.

You should know I also read Twilight. AND saw the movies. And I LIKED them all.





Don't hate. I also like things that people aren't super mean about.

But yeah, feelings. Lame. I feel like my feelings are being sucker-punched in the junk. (Also, have you seen Sucker-Punch? I pretended I didn't like that movie, but really, I did).

I'm worried about loved ones. I'm angry with people who seem to be in denial about some very important issues. I'm not, as a rule, an angry person and I dislike feeling this way. I've seriously contemplated getting bits of Lin-Manuel Miranda's sonnet from the Tony Awards tattooed on my person (the first time I've ever seriously considered tattooing my person at all). "Love is love is love is love is love... Cannot be killed or swept aside."
The feelings are bad, and I don't know how to fix them. And complaining about them feels gross. But holding feelings in feels even worse. Bah. Do we just Robin Hood our way through this? "Damn the man, save the Empire" or something like that? How do we fix the feels?

Responsibility, what's that?

Feeling a whole lot of feelings, lately.

I can't even listen to more than one sad song in a row without getting into a slump for a significant part of my day. I have something of an empathetic personality, and I feel sadness easily if that is the emotion being presented to me. Or if I'm bored, sadness is usually what decides to kick in these days. I'm a little more prone to negativity and sadness without my best pal around.

It's amazing what a trick it is to get by without someone whose presence you've grown so accustomed to. I've been doing a very sloppy job, lately. It's a little ironic. I'm here and living separately from my spouse/best friend for school, but because I miss him so much I'm having a very hard time with school.

I've turned assignments in on time and I've generally been getting by, but barely. And I'm struggling with that fact. I'm typically a little more of a go-getter and a doer when it comes to schoolwork. I think it's important, especially as a theatre student. It's like those memes you see about Harry Potter and Ron Weasley hating their homework when their homework was MAGIC. When the bulk of my homework is for a major which could be definitively described as "magic", it feels ridiculous to slide by, only doing the bare minimum.
And frankly (pardon my French, I know the swears bother some of my near and dear ones), if I'm going to spend time in my life to get a degree in Musical Theatre, you bet your ass I'm going to do my damnedest to do it as well as I can. This is a degree that is not particularly well-respected by most of society. I'm going to get the most goodness and awesomeness out of it that I can, because I believe in it.
But, as I said before (and to contradict everything that I just barely said), I'm struggling with motivation, lately.

Are there tricks for that? The sadness also brings me tiredness, which kills motivation even further... But honestly, (it might get really real for a second here) I wonder if I really want to be rid of the sadness. The sadness means that I'm not cold, heartless, or emotionless. The sadness means that my husband and I miss each other and still help one another to be happy when we're around each other a lot. The sadness makes me appreciate what I do have that is good. Sadness matters. But I really really really don't like it right now. It's just hanging around a little too much. My entire outlook has changed "colors."

I honestly just wish I were Wonder-Woman, but I'm not (as my recent minor toe injury tried to remind me). I wish I could be as motivated as I hoped I would be when these crazy plans were made, but I just feel stuck. I wish a lot of things.

"If at first you don't succeed, try... try again." - The Rescuers

New Radicals - You Get What You Give (Original)

#feels

That's enough, please.

School struggles + minor foot injury + struggling to get enough hours at work to get by + struggling to get enough hours of sleep to get by + missing my favorite human so SO much = a cranky, emotional me.

Forgive me if I'm a little less pleasant today than I generally try to be. I have been receiving a couple of subtle reminders a week lately that what I'm striving to do is "just crazy" and "selfish". I gather that in some eyes, the choice my husband and I made looks like utter selfishness/career-first-spouse-later thinking. I assure you all, the decision was actually made from a place of love and support of one another.

He and I unfortunately do not have perfectly aligned schedules in education. He did not want to pull me away from a program I was thriving in, nor did I want to keep him away from truly progressing with his goals/dreams. While others "love their spouse too much to be separated from them," I love my spouse too much to hold him back from accomplishing great things, and he feels the same way.

We all love differently, and all love is important. Granted, living apart is kind of miserable (and I only say "kind of" because I know others have it so much worse; we do at least get to see each other in person now and again).

This decision is still something I struggle with every day, and I guess I'm just trying to say... Judgement from others doesn't make it any easier. I realize it's not anyone else's job to make my life any easier than I choose to make it myself, but some consideration is always nice. I don't think these judgements are being spoken with malicious intent, but it does still hurt to be judged even by someone with the best of intentions. And I kind of feel like (sorry to pity-party) I'm already hurting enough without anyone needing to add anything to it at all.

Que "Everybody Hurts..."

"Then there are friends who sail together..."

"There are those who pass like ships in the night, who meet for a moment, then sail out of sight with never a backward glance of regret; folks we know briefly then quickly forget. Then there are friends who sail together, through quiet waters and stormy weather, helping each other through joy and through strife. And they are the kind who give meaning to life."

I wish I knew who said it first. It's been running through my mind almost constantly for the past week. I'm so grateful for the week I've had, I don't know how to express it in my own words. I'm just so so so grateful for friends who show love.

I'll be wearing red

There is so much that I want to say, and yet so few words come to mind.

Two years ago (from yesterday), a precious little was born. Due to many health complications, he had to be delivered at 29 weeks (with all the health problems that he had, this was the only possible way to save his life). After a week of fighting through it as best he could, the sweet little passed away. This little was my nephew, who I only got to meet once.

Although it was a heartbreaking day, I hope I never lose my memories of the morning I met him. As my wonderful, courageous, and tender-hearted eldest sister held her precious child, I reached my hand out to hold his, knowing that it would likely be the only time I could ever embrace him in any way. I didn't ask to hold him. He was so small and fragile, and moving him could cause him stress and further problems, and I also didn't want to take away any of the time that my sister had to hold her beautiful baby.
The second my thumb touched the palm of his hand, his tiny fingers curled around it in a faint but firm grip. I say "faint but firm" because he didn't have much strength at all, but his little hand seemed to be latched as tightly as was possible around my thumb. I don't think I will ever be able to perfectly describe the emotion of that moment. All I know to say is that it was overpowering, beautiful, and sad.

It may be difficult to understand for some, but I miss him. I get to hear my other nieces and nephews laugh and cry, I get to read them stories and sing songs with them, and I get to know who they are. All I know about sweet little Gideon is that he fought his many trials so hard, he seemed to love and find comfort in music, he was and is dearly loved... and that I got to hold his hand one magical time.

A family that might not realize my love for them recently and unexpectedly lost a little, as well. I only met him a few times, but I know that he was a sweet little boy who also was and is dearly loved by his family. And I know that his favorite color was red, and that I plan to wear red on Friday in order to honor him in some way.

I feel as though I have been watching the world through grey-tinted glasses, as of late. This time of year will always mean a bit of sadness and heartache for my family (and theirs). I have, unfortunately, been a less than bright force in the world around me for a while. I ought to be cherishing the precious moments, and making brighter the world around me (and seeking to improve the lives of those around me). Whether a lifetime lasts only the span of a week, or four years, or twenty-eight years, or a hundred years... What seems to matter most is the way in which we show love and are loved in return.

Gideon's willingness to hold on seemed to be the gift he had the power to give to his family. My sister, her husband and her other children were devastated by the loss of his precious life, but they were so grateful that they had time with him at all.
The immediate grip of his tiny little fingers around my thumb felt like his gift for me; it felt as though he knew I wanted to hug him tightly and he did what he could with the strength he had to "hug" me, as it were. His sweet little spirit touched so many hearts in the short time we were blessed by his presence.

As I drove toward home on the day I met Gideon (which was, as it happened, also the day he passed away), the song "He Lives in You" from The Lion King Broadway cast recording began to play. So many of those words resonated with me as I drove, and cried, and listened to the words:
"have faith..."
"he lives in you, he lives in me..."
"he watches over everything we see..."

I want to believe that these precious little ones are guardian angels, who are now watching over their loved ones. They are still in everything we see, because they have blessed us with their light.

I wish comfort and love to anyone who has suffered/is suffering a loss. I wish to be a person who brings some comfort and/or joy into the lives of others. And of course, I wish we didn't have to say goodbye. Life is precious, and fleeting, and we may never understand it.
And I wish I was a person who knew how to love more unabashedly and bravely. As it is, I simply try to make people happy, but sometimes I don't succeed.
Again, this family might not realize that I love them dearly and am grateful for their part in my life. But I hope they know that they are loved, and I hope that they are able to be comforted during this heartbreaking time.

I'll be wearing red on Friday.

One Day I'll Fly Away - Moulin Rouge

Aaaaalllll the feels.

"You're lost in the woods. We all are."

I'm feeling a little extra lost, lately... I feel like I'm "getting by" and have all these things I have to do but haven't done yet, and I also feel like I'm not enjoying the things I'm doing as much as I should be.

I have my moments! I enjoy things sometimes. But my joy feels so fleeting; it seems as though any old comment or situation can chase my moment(s) of joy far away. School is just getting harder. There are things I should have been doing at the start of this semester of school that I have still not done, because it seemed too hard at the time, and now the eminent difficulty seems all the more daunting and is all the more vital to get done.
There are also things in the coming school year that will be weighing on me and making my life more difficult. See, there are times in my life when I enjoy being busy and responsible, but I feel like this next school year will not be one of those times (and yet, keeping busy and staying responsible will be required of me whether I "feel like it" or not). I've already made a few decisions/commitments because I knew it would make other people happy. I've already tied myself to extra responsibilities and work that (should I survive) I'll be grateful for once the crazy times are over, but that currently look like several more weights to add to the stack that I'm already carrying.

I'm struggling to make ends meet, financially. I honestly don't know if I can do this. It sounded like such an interesting adventure. Albeit, a terrifying and saddening interesting adventure, but I thought we could probably do it. I'm feeling a lot of weight on my shoulders at the moment, and I'm currently just trying to get a little relief. I'm fairly certain that no one I know reads this blog, and in some ways that's encouraging. I don't think I'd feel free to whine quite this much if I thought someone I know was keeping up on it. If some stranger reads it, just for kicks, I'm sorry that this post isn't very chipper. But if Pixar's Inside Out taught us anything, it's that we all need a little sadness, right? We need a balance.

Well, this is a sadness post. Everything is tinted a little more blue today. I don't know how I'm going to do any of the things that I should be doing, if this strange adventure is to go according to plan. And if it doesn't go according to plan, what was it all for?

Also, can it actually be defined as an "adventure" if it relies so much on a plan? Seriously, what am I doing with my life? I feel like I'm a good person, but I feel like I'm not good at being a person. Is that even possible?
This post is my version of a deep breath before I fall asleep, because falling asleep means I wake up in some hours and go to school, then work, then rehearsal, and then I study (if I do things the way I'd like to believe I would), then go to sleep again.
I know I'm going to sound awfully contrary (particularly with the way this post has been going) when I say this, but when an entire day is planned out and my time is occupied before I even get the chance to live that day through, I feel really depressed about it. That's quite ironic for somebody who wants things to go according to plan... But I hate having something to do at nearly all hours of the day. Especially when I'm running on so little steam.

On that note, I wish I could end this post with a cute little "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" train, but I can't. Because at the moment, I don't.

"Books and cleverness... There are more important things: friendship, bravery...."

Many a time when I've needed inspiration/motivation, I've told myself to "be a Hermione." The girl got stuff done. I know that I tend to get into slumps and to turn into more of a Ron Weasley (another fantastic character, but one with a lot less self-motivation). I get so disappointed in myself when I become a Ron instead of a Hermione. And I've been crumbling under a lot of pressure lately, and getting more and more exhausted and less and less motivated... This post should perhaps actually be titled "Bloody Hell," or another Ron Weasley-ish phrase, but I choose to emulate Hermione (ironic as that may be, considering Pottermore deemed me a Hufflepuff years ago).



I say "ironic" because they say that the famous trio (Harry, Ron, & Hermione) represent qualities of the three houses outside of Gryffindor house. They each have qualities which could have made them likely candidates for these other houses, but their deep-set values and choices made each one of them a Gryffindor. It is speculated: Harry could have been a Slytherin, Hermione could have been a Ravenclaw, and Ron could have been a Hufflepuff.

When I get all introspective with my Harry Potter-isms, I tend to think of myself as a Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw tendencies. I dearly love to learn, but I am rarely up for the type of logical reasoning associated with Ravenclaws. Were I a Ravenclaw, I would most assuredly be found pouting outside the common room more often than not, unable to solve the riddle required to be granted access to my own dormitory.

I actually (silly as it may seem for an adult woman) had a bit of an existential crisis recently with my Harry Potter-ism. As you may know, the Pottermore website was updated somewhat recently. Those who already had Pottermore accounts had the option of sticking with their previous sorting, or being re-sorted. Hoping to reassure myself of a true Hufflepuff status, I took the new sorting hat quiz. And, lo and behold...



No, no. No, no, no, no, no. Couldn't be. Could it? I'm such a Hufflepuff, it's ridiculous! Though, at the time that I took the test again, I was in a very studious mindset (I got a 4.0 GPA that semester for the only-eth time in my life!) and that mindset might have lent very much to my being sorted into Ravenclaw house.

It's so very silly (I have a lot of respect for Ravenclaw house), but I was so disappointed. And it felt untrue, to be honest... So silly.

After a while, though, I decided to try again (I had a student email address with which I could join Pottermore and be sorted yet again). Time had passed, I had accumulated a better perspective on the whole affair. I decided that if this time resulted in a Ravenclaw sorting, I would wholeheartedly be a Ravenclaw. I mean, admittedly, based on the lack of respect shown to Hufflepuff characters by other characters within the Harry Potter wizarding world, when I was first sorted into Hufflepuff I recall being initially disappointed, and then chuckling to myself because it made perfect sense. So, again, if I was now sorted as a Ravenclaw, so be it. I would be happy about it. I took the quiz again, and...



Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? I have a great deal of respect for Gryffindor house, as well, but goodness. It couldn't be. I couldn't be. Too much bravery and too many crazy shenanigans for my liking in Gryffindor house. Perhaps I'm braver than I think I am, and while that is an encouraging thought...

I truly feel that I'm a Hufflepuff. I have now taken the sorting hat quiz three times, and each time I've felt that I answered honestly and sincerely. And now, as the sorting hat can't quite seem to make up its mind, I've decided to continue identifying with Hufflepuff house (not a difficult decision in the slightest bit).



Right? Dumbledore said it. You gonna argue?

I may have a little Ravenclaw in me, and a little Gryffindor as well (seems likely there's not a lot of Slytherin to be found, but who knows? Maybe a fourth time taking the quiz would tell me otherwise. Probably not gonna find out).

Oh, this post... It started as one thing, and as it continued it took on a whole other life. A defensive, "I'M A HUFFLEPUFF" life. Perhaps I'm simply seeking Hufflepuff status validation. If you knew me well, I think you'd agree that I'm most certainly a Hufflepuff.

 Come to think of it, this entire post is probably all the proof you need. This definitely seems like something a Hufflepuff would do (and I should absolutely be doing homework, but this is important).

Even if we are able to do certain things, our values say a great deal about who we are and might at times be more telling than our obvious abilities. I choose to be fiercely loyal and hardworking. I choose to keep striving toward Hermione-level motivation, and I'm sure it'll be a constant battle. I choose to stay afloat as blissfully as I can.