I Need a Doctor

I've wanted to write this entry for awhile now and haven't gotten to it. I will do my best to not give away any spoilers. Hehe. Spoilers.

My favorite British, Sci-Fi TV show right now is Doctor Who.

Originally premiering in 1963, Doctor Who follows the story of a 900+ year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey who travels the universe in a Blue Police Box called a TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space). Ok, I know that's a lot of info, so I'll break it down. The Time Lords were a race of aliens that possessed a binary vascular system (they have 2 hearts) and an impeccable knowledge of history. In the great Time War with the Dalek Race (a genetically engineered race whose prime directive is to "EXTERMINATE!" all races that are not Dalek), the Time Lords were destroyed, all except the Doctor. How he escaped and ended the Time War are still fairly unclear, although it is mentioned that the Time War is Time Locked, so not even he can go back and change things. He is a lonely wanderer destined to travel time and space (did I mention that the TARDIS is a time machine and a spaceship?)

The Show went off the air in the 1980s but was restarted in 2005 starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper as the 9th Doctor and Rose Tyler, respectively. Eccleston regenerated at the end of Season 1 and was replaced by David Tennant who held the role until 2009. He went through 3 seasons, 3 companions, and several Doctor Who specials before he regenerated into the 11th Doctor, Matt Smith.

The Doctor typically has a young, human female companion that travels with him. The companion helps keep the Doctor sane since when he spends too much time alone, he begins to lose some of his finer qualities, especially compassion. The only problem with the companions is that they are destined to part ways with the Doctor eventually. Some of them, like Sarah Jane Smith and Martha Jones, do manage to reunite temporarily with the Doctor, but usually, once they are gone, they stay gone.

In addition to their unusual biology, Time Lords don't exactly "die" in the simplest form of the word. Instead, they regenerate. What does this mean? This means that the current Doctor "dies" and a new Doctor steps into his shoes. Literally. What this means for the show is new actors can take over the role with each regeneration., The current season features the 11th incarnation of the Doctor as portrayed by Matt Smith. However, the Doctor is at his most vulnerable during his regeneration cycle.

The Doctor's favorite tool and most handy device is his Sonic Screwdriver. The 5th doctor is the only one to not use it (he preferred the MacGyver method of saving the universe). the Sonic Screwdriver is very good at opening or locking doors (unless they are made of wood), but it can also boost radio signals, fix wiring connections, or shut down entertainment systems. The Doctors in the new series are never seen without it, and each screwdriver is unique to each Doctor (he gets a new one post-regeneration)

There is a great deal of debate as to who the best incarnation of the Doctor is. I have yet to watch the original series, so I have to reserve my official, overall judgement until then, but based solely on the New Series alone, my favorite Doctor is David Tennant hands down. I really liked Eccleston, especially toward the end of Season 1 when he really began to regain his pacifism and compassion that I always associate with the Doctor, and Matt Smith has a definite absent-minded, odd, not-quite-human quality about him that makes him a perfect Doctor, but I just simply love the 10th Doctor. Part of it is the way he speaks: clever, witty, a bit cheeky, and very thoughtful. Tennant's Doctor is one that I just trust innately and believe without a shadow of a doubt that he will be able to fix everything and save the world.

One of the best things about the series is all of the different types of lifeforms and aliens we get to see. From Sontarens to Daleks to Cybermen to Sycorax to Atraxi to Weeping Angels to Jagrafess to Adipose to Vashta Nerada, every episode has a new adventure and/or a new species to discover. Some of them are benign while others are deadly and will stop at nothing to defeat the Doctor or destroy the world. Some give me nightmares while others I'd actually like to meet.

At this point, it's difficult to go any further without disclosing major "Spoilers" as Professor River Song would say. So I will leave you with a quote from the Doctor: "People assume that time is a strict progression of cause-to-effect but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."

"I'm running out of time/ I need a doctor..."

Umbrella

So, the seasons decided to stop fighting. Winter has finally left until later this year, but I think it took Spring with it. If yesterday and today's humidity is any indication, the only remnants of a very short Spring are the flowers and budding trees. Other than that, it sure as heck feels like Summer.

If I hadn't seen the rain this morning, I wouldn't have believed it. As it happened, I was looking out the window at just the right moment; one minute, it was cloudy and dry, and the next there was SIDEWAYS TORRENTIAL RAIN! I was reminded of camera crews with vats of water and fans. The winds were howling and battering the dorm, and I had to rush to shut the windows to prevent our room from getting drenched. Of course, this would be the day I had to lug "my room" to the Barn for Basic Acting, and it would be the day that I left my umbrella in Dreyfuss during last night's DSG rehearsal. On top of all of this, we had a freaking TORNADO WARNING|?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Everything is starting to wind up and wind down at the same time. School is drawing to a close, the show draws ever nearer, and it's almost time for summer. I'm sure everything will begin to completely revolve around DSG next week.

"Now that it's raining more than ever/ Know that we'll still have each other/ You can stand under my umbrella/ You can stand under my umbrella."

Teenage Dream

The teenage mind is a very complex and intricate thing. Well, for girls it is at least. The mind is filled with thoughts about school, work, boys, clothes, books, boys, movies, music, boys, cars, boys, love, boys, boys, boys,........ok. Maybe it's not so complicated.

The hardest thing about being single is seeing all the couples in love, regardless of how the relationship actually is. For me, my brain decides to have me develop a crush to deal with the inner pain of being single. Unfortunately, the guy is usually unattainable or not interested or...bats for the other team. My gay-dar is so completely broken that unless the guy is flaming, I honestly can't tell. I'd rather have a perfectly functioning gay-dar, personally. But, I digress...

It always happens when I decide to not look and to get comfortable with myself: who I am, where I am, what is going on in my life, stuff like that. And, without fail, less than 3 days after that decision, BAM! I'm completely smitten by someone. I don't actively seek it out, I don't plan for it to happen. And until it hurts so much that I have to let go of it and move on, it's wonderful. Except for the fact that he can't know. He can't ever know.

Yesterday, I decided to let go of my current crush. As hard as it is, it was getting to be too painful, mixed with all of the emotions stirred up from Holy Week, I couldn't handle how I was feeling, and as wonderful as it was to have this crush, it was no longer serving me well. I suppose my only concern now is who my brain will set its sights on next. I guess I'll find out. Or not. Maybe this will be the time where I don't look and don't notice. Part of me really hopes so.

I now turn to Katy Perry again for some final words of wisdom to leave you with. I've really grown close to her music in the past few weeks. The songs and lyrics are really applicable to real life and have meaning for me. Last night's title and today's title are both hers.

"My heart stops/ When you look at me/ Just one touch/ Now baby I believe/ This is real/ So take a chance/ And don't ever look back/ Don't ever look back."

Pearl

I've felt like Humpty Dumpty for the last few days. All the emotions stirred up last week have been swirling around in my head and my heart and as of this afternoon, I felt broken beyond repair. There was too much going on inside, and I was unable to find any solace from the constant shouting in my head. Had I known this was coming, I would have prepared appropriately, but I didn't so I wasn't.

I was sure that "all the king's horses and all the king's men" would be completely useless in putting me back together again, but a walk outside, a relaxing shower, and a long talk with my mom helped start the process. Long story short, I'm now slowly rebuilding my brain and will be asleep very soon. My life rules and personal image have essentially shattered into billions of pieces and need to be reassembled into what I want them to be now: lessen my judgmental tendencies, change my stance on issues that have been immovable, strengthen and increase the amount of positive affirmations floating around, pretty much making myself into the woman I want to be.

One of the major discoveries form this morning was the recognition of different kinds of love: love of desire/lust/love=WANT and usually shows up when out of a relationship versus the love of true love/soul mates/ lifetime of fulfillment. The difference is astounding because I currently feel one the former and have seen the latter in action. My mom explained that men tend to see the big picture while women tend to end up with a narrow, almost OCD view of a particular problem, and that they balance each other out; men help women open up while women help men to bring their focus in. It made a great deal of sense, especially since I can see the aforementioned tendencies in my own life.

I was planning to write more, but I think I ran out of words (that and my eyelids feel like lead weights are attached). Here is Katy Perry to say what I cannot:

"You don't have to be a shell, No/ You're the one who rules your world/ You are strong and you'll learn/ That you can still go on/ And you'll always be a pearl."

This is the Day

The insanity is over!!!!! I get my life back! Yes, Holy Week has drawn to a close with the big extravaganza that is the Easter Morning double service: bells, brass, full organ, over 60 voices in the choir, and TONS of logistical challenges. You'd think that our director was asking us to launch rockets into space instead of walking in a straight line. :P

The vergers used incense in the service again. Coupled with the scents from the flowers, it gives the church a wonderful smell: full, rich, layered. I love it.

Of course, today would be the most hot and humid day of the last month. By the time we were finished with the 11:15 service, it was 83 degrees Fahrenheit!!!! It was so warm in the gallery of the church that our cottas (the white, puffy shirt that goes over the robe) was sticking to the back of the pews. That combined with the restless nature of the school choirs and the extremely talkative nature of all children under the age of 19, most of the time, I felt frustrated. I was essentially relying on prayer that the gallery didn't get too loud and disruptive and that they would sing the right song at the right time.

The title for this entry was inspired by the kid's anthem "This is the Day." It is definitely one of our favorite pieces to sing. It has a definite gospel feel, a good beat, and it's not too simple. My director told me on Friday that I'd be conducting the piece (oh great), but it wasn't bad at all. In this case, conducting meant nodding at the soloists when it was their turn to sing, and dancing for the choir. I'm not kidding. I was up there bouncing my arms, using gestures, and grinning like an idiot, trying to get the group looking happy and moving a bit. I essentially kept the beat with my body. It was actually a lot of fun, and at both services it got applause. Actually, one of the best moments in the piece was when some of the adult Choir basses began clapping during the piece; the got most of the church clapping along at one point. Thank you, basses. :)

Our priest gave a very interesting sermon today. As always, there was a gentle remark about the flux in attendance that is associated with today, but then she began to talk about the gospel reading. She even acknowledged that there are people who think the whole thing is a load of pious nonsense, but she said, "Well, it's our story." She went on to talk about Rob Bell, an Evangelist who is annoying the other Evangelists because what he says and what he writes sounds more like an Episcopalian than anything else. In his book Love Wins (I really like that title), he talks about how Heaven and Hell are not concrete places we will go in the future. Hell is separation from God through sin/ letting other people rule you/ being untrue to yourself. Heaven is letting God tell our story instead of telling our own story of ourselves. When we start telling our story (usually accompanied by a great deal of self-abuse), we "lose our way" so to speak. I thought the whole take was interesting because I believe in Heaven and Hell on Earth, and I believe that we make them for ourselves.

The second time through was better and worse. It was much harder to keep my energy up, and certain things felt a bit sluggish (*cough* prelude *cough*), but the logistics worked out better and our director didn't have to scream at us (oops). Our director even told us that we could take a break during the sermon since we'd heard it once already. We sat in the library and talked and sang.

The peace at the 11:15 service was the best, though. I was saying peace to the Altos, working my way down to the Sopranos when one of the girls from the Red Choir came over to say peace. Before I knew it, I was there for thirty seconds giving out handshakes and hugs to a whole swarm of Red Choir kids. I made it back to the Sopranos and finally managed to make it to the Bass section to say peace to one of my friends. We hugged and as we broke apart, the church seminarian cam over and teased us, saying that "She wanted to see the Holy Ghost between us." After we both gave her a blank stare, she explained that when boys and girls were dancing together at Catholic School, that was what the nuns would say. This had us both in fits of laughter.

As a good friend of mine would say, I probably have "church poisoning." It's like food poisoning only with religion. You get to the point where you've been at church SOOOOOO much that you'd be happy if you never set foot in the building again. But it passes after a few days. I'll be back there later this week for rehearsal and to assist my director.

In conclusion, after this entire week of services and rehearsals and actually paying attention in church, I'm not sure what I believe. There are certain things that still ring true, but there are others that just fall too short. I remember earlier this week hearing a prayer to bless all those who had not found the true path and who had strayed. I had been in the middle of deep prayer and suddenly felt like everything I had been feeling vanished into thin air. It felt like the stereotypical Christian line about needing to "save other people." And yet, there were other moments where I felt almost religious, where I could almost believe what was being taught. I suppose time will tell, but for now I want to kick back, relax, and not think about church or religion for a few days. Happy Easter!

"This is the feast of victory for our God. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!!!"

Christus Resurrexit

Tonight, we had our annual Easter Vigil service at church, also called the Taize service (I'll explain why in a minute). It is the most mystical and, I think, interesting service of the whole year. The first half of the service, through the renewal of Baptismal vows is in the dark, the church lit by candles and light in the gallery (so the choir can see). the bulletin says the lights are like this to simulate being inside the tomb with Jesus. Creepy.

It's called the Taize service because we sing all of the music from this orange book of Taize music. We also have about 15-20 instrumentalists playing a variety of instruments (French horn, Barry Sax, Trumpet, Sitar, Recorder, Flute, and Oboe just to name a few. I think we had guitar and ukulele as well tonight). Every piece of music has an "intro to the Intro" which is our choir director's way of cluing us in to which piece we are doing and letting the instruments playing the real intro know that it is time to start. This service is also famous for its "roadmaps" which tell

1. What order the pieces are in
2. What instruments play when
3. Who has what solos
4. When we sneak down from the gallery to the chancel
5. And how many times we will repeat a refrain
6. And so much more (or maybe that's about it)

We were absolutely packed tonight; the choir was bursting at the seams in the pews, spilling into the overflow pews. We didn't even all fit in the gallery. Our director had to send some of us down to the back of the church to sing. As I was an instrumentalist and a soloist, I got to remain in the gallery. But, in the end, what mattered was how we sounded, and the music was wonderful.

After the cauldron and all the candles were lit (and yes, we do start with a cauldron), the Exsultet was chanted by our director. It was sublime. There is something very ancient and beautiful about plainsong, and I had to work to stay in my body. I was so relaxed and peaceful that I was sorry to have it end.

The readings tonight, prior to the lights being on, were from the Old Testament. We heard "The Creation Story," "Noah and the Flood," "The Parting of the Red Sea," and "The Valley of Dry Bones." Again, this is my first time really paying attention to the readings and the services during Holy Week, and aside from the fact that when they were talking about it raining for 40 days and 40 nights I could hear Bill Cosby say, "Let it rain for 40 days and 40 nights and wait for the sewers to back up," I didn't really zone out. I did however come up with questions and internal commentary during the readings, especially during the Red Sea. I know the "Old Testament God" is angry and vengeful, but did he have to kill all of the Egyptians? Did he have to "harden their hearts" so that they would follow the Israelites across the Red Sea, only to drown? I know the Egyptians enslaved the Israelites, but it didn't seem right to murder them. God had already taken all of the firstborn sons. Wasn't that enough?

I played the recorder tonight. That was my instrument (aside from my voice), and I ALWAYS get nervous playing the recorder in front of people. No matter how long or how hard I practice, I'm always very nervous when I go to play. In the end, everything went fine, and with Taize music, it doesn't matter if you mess up because it all sounds fine in the end; it's not Mozart or anything like that.

When we were finished with renewing the Baptismal vows, the lights were flipped on and the "Strife is o're" so to speak. We are now allowed to say the "A" word (Begins with "A" and ends with "lleluia"), and we said it numerous times from then on, celebrating the end of Lent and of the suffering portion of Holy Week. It was so nice having it back in the service, not having to worry about saying it accidentally, especially as a chorister. The rule about it being forbidden lasts only 24 hours for choristers because we have to start practicing our Easter music as soon as Ash Wednesday is over.

After the service was over, we had refreshments, including the now traditional "Peepshi" which are Peeps wrapped in Rice Krispie Treats and Fruit Roll-ups to look like sushi rolls. They are so cute and so delicious. I spent a short amount of time by the food, mostly talking to a friend and my brother before I headed back into the choir room to clean and organize. My director and I were done setting up the room for tomorrow's services before 10pm. We rock.

By the time this posts, it will tomorrow already (HAPPY EASTER). It's been a very long day, beginning with one of my best friends crashing in my dorm for the night and ending with the anticipation of a double service of amazing music, wrangling kids, and a full house. Should be loads of fun. ;)

"Hmmm. Christus Resurrexit, Christus Resurrexit! Hmmm. Alleluia! Alleluia!"

Steal Away

Yesterday was Good Friday, probably the most depressing day of the year (like Valentine's Day is for single people). I was at church from 8:30 in the morning until 5:50 in the afternoon, leaving in a hurry to run back for a play run through. I attended/sat through/sang/ wrangled kids for the 3 hour Good Friday service from noon to 3. I chose the title for this entry from the song the guys performed today, a spiritual entitled "Steal Away" that was absolutely gorgeous.

One of the "Meditations" which are like mini-sermons really spoke to me . It was all about control and about how in order to fully experience the resurrection on Easter, one has to let go of all control. Only by relinquishing our grip on control can we "die and be reborn." One of the points made was about love and how in love, we are at our most vulnerable and have to let go of our control and risk being broken so badly we almost can't be put back together again.

I want that. I want to let go of my control and fall in love, the kind that sweeps you off your feet and stuns you beyond all normal reason. I feel so many times that I am repeating myself with what I wish for, but I hope that by saying it enough and thinking about it enough, I can draw it to myself. Maybe I'll get to the point where I can be vulnerable and risk it all for that one special person.

"Steal away, steal away home/ I ain't got long to stay here."

Gethsemane (I Only Want to Say)

Today in Maundy Thursday, the official day of the Last Supper for the Christians. Tomorrow is Good Friday, but I'm not quite there yet.

The service was quite sublime tonight. I was very satisfied with the choir as a whole. Our director uses a great deal of plain song (aka Gregorian Chant) during this service: the Kyrie, Psalm, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, and Hymn 166 were all chanted. I found it added a whole other level of mystery to the service. We sang the Mozart Ave Verum as the offertory, definitely one of my favorite pieces ever.

But something happened tonight that I didn't expect, probably because it hasn't happened before. during the Stay with Me, a Taize piece we sang at Communion, I was so moved by the music and the voices singing the solos that I was just about in tears (just about because my eyes were filled with them but I didn't actually let myself cry; I didn't want my mascara to create railroad tracks on my cheeks). I've never cried in church before. I'd blame it simply on the music (which was GORGEOUS) except for the fact that I was actually connecting with the lyrics of the song. Again, I'm deliberately paying close attention to the story as it unfolds this year, so to hear one of the soloists asking to have the "cup taken away so he didn't have to drink," knowing that he is asking to not have to die for his people, that is insanely moving. And then the second soloist concedes with "God's Will" and agrees to die; I really thought I was going to lose all my control.

So now I am back in my dorm, going through what I suppose can only be called a "crisis of faith." I don't necessarily believe what is being said is the absolute, unfathomable truth (as I've said previously), but something in the story is really moving me. I don't go to church to be moved; I go to sing and make music. I don't go to worship, I go to spend time with people I like and admire and want to continue singing with. So to be sitting in the service almost in tears was very bizarre and kind of scary for me. I wonder where I will be in three days after the Easter Services.

"I only want to say/ If there is a way/ Take this cup away from me/ For I don't want to taste it's poison..."

Hosanna

It's Holy Week. Again. And it's late this year. And it's the same week as Passover, but I think it happens that often. I can't remember.

Every year, we (my family and I) listen to "Jesus Christ Superstar" leading up to Good Friday and Easter. Sometimes I listen to "Godspell" as well. I feel they really help set the mood for the week. My family, choir director, and a bunch of my friends agree. Besides, the week is hard enough already. A bit of music helps it to not be quite so depressing.

I paid attention to the Passion Reading in church for the first time since my Dad read the part of Jesus may years ago. However, I'm pretty sure this is my first time truly "grokking" the entire story. For some reason, the "audience participation" portion of the Passion struck my differently this year than it has before; I found myself feeling depressed and despondent. I didn't want to join in with "Let him be Crucified," and just saying the words made me feel bad about being a human being. I felt so sorry for Jesus.

I don't think I ever thought I would say that.

I don't consider myself truly religious. I'm Episcopalian by attendance (and employment), officially undecided by choice, and would probably consider Music to be my true religion if I had to pick something. I have more out-of-body experiences or moments where my soul feels completely at peace while singing than while doing anything else. I haven't really found solace in religion since I was 8 years old and decided that I was tired of hearing the same old story over and over and over and over again. The image of an old guy on a throne of clouds just out of sight in the sky or the whole idea that we humans are guilty just by existing or that a woman is blamed for Original Sin (NOT FAIR) no longer held any meaning to significance for me. I suppose I was officially disillusioned from religion before I'd been on the Earth for a decade.

We left the church I had attended for 3-4 years soon after. It was the first church choir I sang in, and as it coincided with my early piano lessons, it helped reinforce my lessons in basic musicianship and in reading music. I loved the game where our choir director would play through the hymn and we had to tell him where he was when he stopped playing. I had my first vocal solo in that choir. I think it was during communion if I'm remembering it right. I was 6, maybe 7. That time is very difficult for me to remember.

We took a few years off from church before Dad got a summer job at the next one we attended. As it turned out, I had friends there already from NJYC and from other activities, so at least I wasn't a complete loner. The choir there was mush smaller than the one I was in before. My two friends and I were the oldest members of the children's choir (made up of 10 people or less on a good day, 3 or 4 on a low attendance day), and after awhile, I began singing in the adult choir. Trouble was, I didn't like rehearsing for so long after finishing a church service. I'd rather hang out with my friends.

Then, while we were slowly fading from the second church for a variety of reasons, we stumbled upon our current church. Our current choir director was in charge of teaching the 2008 September Song music to the children's choir. My brother and I were in the group. After one of the rehearsals, she asked if I would consider auditioning for Harmonium. My dad and I both did and got in. We've been in the group since, and we've been joined by my mom and one of my brothers. The other brother will be old enough very, very soon.

My youngest brother joined the school choir and my older younger brother joined the teen boy group at church. I avoided going to church from a month, attending the St. Francis Sunday Service in October as my first service there.

I had never seen such a large children's choir at church. Ever. In my life.

There must have been between 40 and 60 kids walking up to the choir stalls that morning, all between the ages of 4 and 18. Mom had to remind me to stop staring and close my mouth. Then they began singing. I was stunned. Thisdirector was able to get such an amazing sound from volunteers?!?!?!?!?!

She asked me if I wanted to sing the All Saints Sunday concert as we were doing the Rutter Requiem (which is my favorite) and which we were also preparing in Harmonium to sing at Carnegie Hall in March of the following year (which was AMAZING). I agreed and began attending Friday rehearsals. After the concert, I didn't leave the church. I stuck around and became an official choir member. It has been the most unique church choir experience I've had by far. Every Friday, we arrive to rehearsal for snack prior to singing. The choir is divided into groups based on grade, and there is an overlap in time with the groups. You can always tell when it's been a long week and we are tired because we forget to be quiet, although, come to think of it, that is most weeks. However, we quickly remember when we see our choir director go to whistle. That could quiet any group in less than a second.

Since then, I've gone through choir training, RSCM training, exponentially improved my musicianship (but I really have Harmonium to thank for that part), boosted my musical confidence, become a choir leader, and have gotten myself employed at church teaching the 3-7 year old children music on Fridays.

Every week we sing a variety of music with our choir that, on a low attendance Sunday, outnumbers the congregation.. It has taken me 2 and a half years to come to terms with the fact that I don't believe the words I am singing, but that I am singing as a way to give back to the community and that it doesn't matter whether or not I believe it as long as I am helping make beautiful music. I used to be very resentful that I had gotten roped into another church, but as I began to learn from my choir director, got to know the choristers and the parents, and now have my own group of choristers, I find that I want to go to rehearsals. I've even started going to the Thursday night adult rehearsals at the beginning of Lent this year.

You used to have to drag me to choir, and now, I get there at least 10-20 minutes before my director. I find myself cleaning the choir room after rehearsals, putting away the folders of the kids who don't show up on Sundays, or, like this past Palm Sunday, volunteering to sing an extra service to make sure the voice part balance is there. For the first time in my life, I want to be at church, but I still don't totally believe everything that is said or taught. Sometimes, my parents can explain things in a way that makes more sense to me and to my own beliefs about the universe, but when I actually start paying attention in the service and realize just how awful the week leading up to Easter was for Jesus, more so than I EVER HAVE BEFORE, it makes me wonder just how proud I should be to be a human being. As my mom stressed after the service, I should focus on the fact that he forgave those who had wronged him, but it didn't totally put my conscience at ease.

I'm not sure what I believe, but I know my beliefs are a compilation of a whole bunch of religions and philosophies. I figure that as long as I keep asking questions and exploring, I'll figure it out, but that was the whole reason I refused to get confirmed in the Christian Faith. I've faced subtle pressure from some of my peers and from some of the clergy at churches since I turned 13, but

1. I think 13 is way too young to commit to a single religion as the true faith. I didn't have nearly enough experience in life and religion to make that choice then. At 19, I still don't think I have enough knowledge or experience.
2. I couldn't say what I had to for confirmation and truly believe it in my heart. I did not want to lie in front of the bishop. Geez.

And now I'm back in the throws of Holy Week, at church Palm Sunday, Tuesday for the Easter Dress with Brass, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Saturday for the Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday. Here goes nothing.

Hosanna/ Hey Sanna Sanna Sanna Hosanna /Hey Sanna Hosanna/ Hey JC, JC won't you smile at me?/ Sanna Hosanna/ Hey Superstar 

Crazy

It's hard to believe it's been almost a week since I last wrote in this. The whole week has just been, well, crazy. Between taking care of the dogs, hiring people to help care for the dogs, DSG rehearsals, DSG cast drama, Stacie getting sick (our acting teacher who NEVER cancels class for anything), hour long chats with people who are becoming good friends, discovering I have a social life for the first time in 19 years, attempting (and mostly failing) to accomplish homework, getting to actual work on time, skipping class due to car trouble, praying my rides showed up on time, and having my family get back from Disney, I'm freaking exhausted.

With only 3 weeks of classes left of the year, I'm trying to figure out where all the time has gone. School may be drawing to a close, but most other things won't end until June (Harmonium season, Chapel Choir, etc). zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..z...zzz

I think I need sleep. Like, no joke. I need to go to sleep. Right now. Aw, *******. Right, I have an essay to write.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

I'm in Love with my Car

I love my choir. I really and truly do. I would not give it up for anything in the world. But the downside to rehearsing a half an hour away from my home is driving home late at night.

10:30 pm: I hit a pothole last night on my way home from rehearsal. I was going through the Great Swamp and it literally came out of no where, like one of those portable holes you see in cartoons. The right front tire bouned hard in the hole, jarring the whole car. I didn't notice anythign wrong until a few minutes later when the wheel was overcorrecting; if I relaxed my grip on the wheel, the car veered right. It wasn't until I turned onto Long Hill Road that the tire went completely flat, popping off the rim.

10:40 pm: I pulled off to the side of the road and called my parents, and then a friend.

11:10 pm: My friend gets there to help, but the lugnuts are completely stuck. They won't budge at all.

12:00 pm: I park the car in a driveway (the owner of the driveway had come home and gave me permission), and my friend drove me home.

2:00 am: I finally fell asleep.

7:00 am: I called our Mechanic who sent the tow truck out. He picked up the car and took it back to our mechanic.

9:00 am: I got the scoop. As it turns out, one of the lugnuts is broken. Thank God it's only one. But I am now grounded in town and can't get to school, and I tried registering for classes but Webadvisor says I haven't met with all my advisors yet, and you name it, it's probably wrong right not.

Why does everything happen late at night, in the middle of nowhere, and when your family is out of town?

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

Find Yourself

Do you ever feel so entirely lost and adrift in your life that you wish everything would just disappear, and when it finally does, you regret ever having the thought in the first place?

I have. I do.

I feel awash in a sea of everything today. I'm sure part of it is that I'm home/at school/dog-sitting while my family is in Disney for the NPHS music trip. Grrrrrrrrrrr. I know I volunteered to help out while they are gone and I have class and I have work and I have rehearsal, but seriously? Disney? Plus, I get daily texts as to which park they are going to each day. Seriously? Seriously!

Another part of the problem is that I'm crafting for acting this week, as always. For some reason, my crafting always manages to get me thinking about it ALL THE TIME, especially with relationship crafting. That's always fun (read w/sarcasm). I'd say what my situation is, but it has to remain secret until Thursday. And I'm not just crafting for class, I'm also crafting for my play, Dog Sees God. I'm playing Lucy Van Pelt as a teenager, and I have two full months of events to craft that involve only one other character in the play: Linus, and I only see him twice in those two months (only in the play we are Van and Van's Sister as it is an unauthorized parody of The Peanuts characters). You'll have to come see it if you want to know why I'm thinking so hard about it, although I will say this: I learned how to knit for this part. (May 4-7 at FDU-Madison).

But I'm not just thinking about the imaginary world, I'm also thinking about the real world. Crafting just gets the storytelling juices flowing, and before I know it, I'm telling all sorts of ridiculous stories about all kinds of people, either invented or real.

So I keep searching. I keep hoping on some level that everything will work out the way it is supposed to, even when I am impatient or sick of hearing the same answer for the millionth time. It seems to be a non sequitur that I seem to be this intelligent, smart, (hopefully) funny, personable individual, yet can't seem to date anyone, that and the fact that it is nearly impossible for me to actually get out two comprehensible words around a guy I like. After 19 years of being single, it gets really freaking ridiculous. And EVERYBODY says, "You'll find the right person, just give it time." That is probably the biggest cop-out answer ever invented, nor does it do anything to lift the spirits. Especially if you have a decidedly clear talent for crushing on just about every single gay man in a 5 mile radius. Mostly, it's because I just can't tell most of the time (which sucks by the way), but it's also because more often than not, they are the guys who are into music and theater, and I don't see them as intimidating. At least, that's how I've rationalized the entire situation.

Another frequent result of my crushes (if th guy isn't gay) is that he is simply not interested like that and just wants to be friends. I'd rather set myself on fire and jump off a bridge than to hear, "I just want to be friends" one more time. Eventually, I figure out how to move forward, but those relationships always feel a bit awkward afterwards. Hence, I rarely admit to guys that I have a crush on them. I keep my thoughts and feelings to myself, unless I just desperately need to confide in a friend because the thoughts are threatening to rip me apart.

Guess I just needed to vent a bit. I dunno. Part of me feels like this will never change while the other part is strangely optimistic that things will change. I'm not sure what to believe anymore. I sometimes wonder if my crafting is the only way I will see such relationships.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

Would I Lie to You?

So, in Basic Acting I, one of the things we have to work on are our resistance walls. These are areas of our emotions or actions that we have difficulty dealing with. For me, I have a great deal of resistance around

• Getting angry
• Exploring sensuality
• Expressing the truth
• Taking a risk that makes me vulnerable to ridicule/looking foolish/criticism

and those are just a few.

Our assignment for this week was a crafted party. We had to meet with all of our classmates and craft (create) relationships. They had to be meaningful and strong. I was acquaintances with a few, best friends with others, mortal enemies of one, and completely in love with the last. In addition to our crafting, we had to have a "life at the party," an activity or goal for something to happen or for us to do while there. Mine was telling the person I was in love with how I felt. Did I mention that it was an engagement part for two of our classmates? (Remember, this is ALL crafted).

So, I spent several of the first minutes at the party feeling like I was about to blow chunks. All I could think about was how nervous I was and how much the thought of confessing my love terrified me. I finally managed to confront my resistance and push through it (telling him how I felt and facing the consequences), resulting in a great deal of tears before I could regain control. I must say though, I'm very proud of myself for feeling instead of shutting down as is my want.

The first part was over an hour long, but the kicker came when our professor told us to forget everything that had happened, go back to our initial crafting, and do the party again! We did, and it certainly went differently. Partway through, our teacher turned out the lights which would have been fine if she also hadn't taken big heavy things and hit the walls and doors, creating a booming sound, like something was trying to get in. My grasp on the imaginary world slipped as my personal terror of the dark took hold, my brain supplying frightening images of irrational fears. I was forced to remove myself from the final few moments of the exercise in order to regain my feelings of safety and of reality.

I probably work harder for this class than any other. It feels great to succeed, but the process itself is terrifying. I took some huge risks today, feeling very much the way I do when I perform: nervous, slightly ill, but energized and very much alive. That balance can be the very difference between success and failure, even when it scares the pants off of me. I hope to be able to reach the point where I'm not afraid to take risks but am afraid to let them go by.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

True to Life

So, today I got the note that, "I'm playing it too nice. I need to be meaner."

I love being in the imaginary world. You get to do just about anything, but separating it from real life is really difficult. So, when I have to play someone who is always cruel to the other character, it's hard to keep myself separate. I personally being intentionally cruel, but Van's Sister always feels she is in the right. I should be able to keep them separate, right?

I love my scene with CB. We spend the whole time in a constant state of trying to maintain power over each other. I'm supposed to look for any opportunity to push him down, to be "dominant" on so many words, but the actor playing CB is so nice and funny and we have so much fun. But I have to be meaner and tougher. Grrrrrr.

I love The Peanuts. I truly do. But now, the fact that I love Charlie Brown is hindering my ability to be Lucy. Is everything always this complicated? Does the imaginary world have a clear-cut door? What's the best way to stay separate from what's real and what's make believe?

Because I lost that distinction many years ago...

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

The Firebird

This past weekend, I went on the FDU Honors Program trip to Portland, Maine. We attended the Northeast Region Honors Conference. It is held in a different city every year (next year is Baltimore, and 2013 will be in Philly), I had to write a proposal for a paper that I then wrote and presented at the conference. The theme this year was “Resurgam” which is Latin for “I will Rise Again.”

My paper was on Harry Potter as the first thing I thought about after reading the conference theme was Fawkes the Phoenix. I decided to explore the theme of humanity as it pertains to rebirth in Rowling’s septet. Voldemort is a negative rebirth that destroys humanity, creating a twisted mockery of what was there before. This descent from humanity is accompanied by a distinct physical change and the marked loss of remorse. Voldemort goes bald, his eyes become red slits, and his nose is that of a snake; he also feels no remorse when he kills, and he kills often. The positive rebirth sheds the negative aspects of the person to let them grow. This is seen in Fawkes and Harry (but I won’t give any spoilers).

I wasn’t nervous about presenting my paper until it was my turn, and then my knees wouldn’t stop shaking, but it went of beautifully. I was more concerned about the Q&A, but since the room was full to bursting with Potter fans, it was so much fun to discuss the books we all know and love.

Humanity is such an interesting topic that I could discuss for hours. It defines us, makes us who we are. Without it, we cannot love, laugh, form attachments, get married, have relationships, experience loss, feel true pain and anguish, see the true good and bad things in life and then pick ourselves up and keep going. It is such a blessing and a curse, but somehow, I don't think we would want it any other way. The alternative is an imitation of existence, one that doesn't even begin to compare to the fullness and richness of the lives we currently lead. Even on the days when I wish everything would truly disappear, if I can remember just one reason that I am glad to be alive, somehow, everything else gets just a little bit brighter.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!