Archive | January, 2013

officially Kiwi bound.

29 Jan

Things don’t often go right for me. Actually, no, scratch that, that’s an understatement. Things don’t ever go right for me. I’m used to the taste of rejection, sour on my tongue. Applying for wonderful internships with places such as Disney and The Daily Show, only to be turned down. Having awesome ideas for theatre pieces or performances, only to have them fall through. Putting myself forward in situations, only to be looked over for someone else. And don’t even get me started on relationships.

I’m used to it. Rejection. It follows me everywhere. It’s the reason I don’t put myself out there as often as I should. The reason I prefer quiet nights in on Saturday evenings spent in my room watching television instead of going out. It’s why I don’t speak up. It’s why I’m shy. It’s why I’m me.

So you have to understand when I say that I started sobbing the moment I found out my New Zealand visa was approved, there were a whole set of indescribable emotions behind my tears.

It’s dumb to think I wouldn’t have gotten it. Of course I was going to get it. I was always going to get it. I’m not a convict. I’ve never been kicked out of a country. I don’t have tuberculosis. I meet every single requirement needed to enter New Zealand, be it character, age, health, or place in the world. But as I sent in my application for a year long work visa in New Zealand just two days ago I told myself, “Well, okay, but there’s that chance.” That chance I wouldn’t get it. That my dreams would, yet again, betray me, leaving me to feel small and worthless and insignificant. After all, that’s what I’ve come to know.

So when I saw the word “APPROVED” underneath the word “DECISION” it felt surreal. It felt that, at last, I was getting a chance to live my life the way I’ve always wanted to. Through travel. Through adventure. Through wanderlust.

And now it’s final. I am going. I am going to live in a country I’ve never been to in my life, and I am going to live there for an entire year. I will have a friend with me for the first three or four months – and holy fuck, that is going to be so much goddamn fun – but then? Then I’m on my own. Then it’s just me and my body and my mind deep in the heart of New Zealand. There are so many endless possibilities lying in front of me right now. I’m finding it hard to breathe.

And I am so happy.
And so scared.
And so worried.
And so dazzled.
And so anxious.
And I cannot stop smiling.

For the first time ever, I think I feel whole.

coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee.

26 Jan

This morning I didn’t make myself a cup of coffee. I slept in till 9am and told myself I didn’t need one. I went on a morning run, showered, started homework, read a bit, watch some TV, and all seemed right with the world.

Well, now it’s 3pm and I’ve hit that wall. The I need coffee right now or nothing else is going to be accomplished today wall.

It’s funny because, three years ago, this was not me. I didn’t even like coffee of any kind at that point in my life, and I’m struggling to remember when it was that I even started drinking the stuff on a regular basis. I have a vague memory of being a freshman in college and forcing myself to chug down a shitty 7-11 coffee in order to keep myself awake for the rest of light crew’s late hours, so I know that was before the coffee epidemic struck me. I feel like coffee probably became a necessity sometime during sophomore year, especially because I remember that I ordered a white mocha (my signature drink) on my first date with my ex that year. Perhaps it was during Johnny Johnson. Most likely. Goddamn, fuck you, Johnny Johnson. Even three years later you are still ruining my life.

Seriously, what has become of me? I own a coffee maker and drink one to two coffees a day.

Needless to say, I’m not a fan of how dependent I’ve become on coffee. During the summer I’d only have one cup a couple days a week, normally when I’d get up a tad earlier to go out on a run or to go to work, and I feel like that was better. It was a nice pick-me-up in the mornings back then. Unlike now where, if I don’t have coffee, my world comes crashing down. I could just press through it and not rely on it, and eventually I wouldn’t need it at all, but this term… this term I feel is not the time to kick my coffee habit. I’m taking seven classes. I have an art show opening this week. I’m on light crew. I’m working two part time jobs. I’m trying to plan a motherfucking trip that’s going to last an entire year of my life. I don’t have the time to hold an intervention for myself and quit this addiction.

So, next term. Next term when I’ll only be taking four classes (two of which will be a breeze). Next term when there will be no art show. Next term when I’ll hopefully have an easier theatre practice. I’d like to kick the utter dependance on coffee to the curb mainly because I don’t want it with me in New Zealand. I’m going to be on a very tight budget, and I don’t want to be throwing my money down the drain every morning for the sake of a cup of Joe. That’s not to say I’m going to do away with it completely. Oh hell no. I’m sure there will be mornings in New Zealand where we have to get up even earlier than normal, or when we have time to kill. I’d just like to be able to go through an entire day and not have it be ruined because I can’t survive without drinking caffeine.

So, starting in April, that will be my time to reign back on the coffee drinking. But for now, for the sake of homework and productivity, I’m going to go make myself a delicious cup of coffee before I pass out on my laptop’s keyboard.

no good.

23 Jan

I keep finding myself mentally asking,
“Why does this matter?”constantly when other people are talking to me
about things that are important to them.

I am a terrible person.

potty training.

16 Jan

It’s coming out of my body.” This is something the two year old I babysit said to me today. All I could do was stare at him for a moment, blink a couple times, and say “… Yeah, that’s a pretty accurate description of what pooping is.”

note to self: hair.

14 Jan

Dear me,

Chances are, in the future, you’re going to have the insane urge to chop all of your hair off again. This is a good urge. The last time you did it you felt so free and wild, and it was the best feeling you had in months. That being said, while a new hairdo is a great pick-me-up, there are some downsides to it that you probably won’t consider at the time. While I strongly encourage you to go through with your want of short hair, I feel like I should remind you of what a few of the downsides are when it comes to chopping off your hair.

  1. Let’s put growth rate in perspective: You cut all your hair off in June. It’s now January, more than half a year later, and your hair is still fucking short. Not as short, of course, but it’s only just begun to touch your neck. To be frank, you’ll be lucky if your hair’s grown to your shoulders by the time June comes around again. Basically, next time you chop all of your hair off, keep in mind that it’s a one year commitment. Or longer.
  2. Your short hair, while cute most of the time, is incredibly frustrating once it gets to that shaggy stage. You know the one. The stage where the expensive hair gel you purchased doesn’t do shit anymore and your hair starts to twist and curl in every direction. Remember this: you’re going to hate it during those times when it’s too long to maintain with gel but too short to straighten with your flat iron.
  3. You go through phases where your hair makes you look a whole lot like Lip Gallagher (Shameless) and Ori (The Hobbit). And there was that one time your dad told you that you looked like Jon Cryer. Good times.
  4. Your bed head with short hair is the worst.
  5. Your hair eventually turns into a mullet. True, you’ve figured out how to manage it so no one can tell (thank goodness for naturally curly hair), but I suggest (next time) go get a haircut to even your hairdo out.
  6. As great as short hair is, you’re a long haired girl at heart.


13 Jan

My thoughts are 6,523.6 miles away
and it is impossible to call them back.

I dream in green rolling fields,
pinnacle landscapes, breathtaking beaches,
cerulean skies, vast high dives,
adventure in my lungs.

The regions roll off my tongue.

The town of the Queen,
the Church of the Christ,
the land of the Auck.

The countdown has begun

until I kindle with Kiwis
until I fly the coop
until I shake this Texas dust off of my boots
and then I shall be wild and young and bold and free
and in a land so new to me.

I fight to keep myself grounded against this impetuous plight,
but my mind is a lost cause
for my thoughts take flight

6,523.6 miles away.

hectic life leads to a suffering blog.

12 Jan

Dear blog,

My sincerest apologies. I promise I haven’t abandoned you. I know it may seem like that now, but really, I haven’t. I have several entries planned out that I so wish to write, it’s just a matter of finding the time to do so. Remember how a week ago I wrote about an indescribable anxiety that had suddenly overtaken me? Yeah, well, apparently that was a premonition of what was to come. Somehow I could just sense that this term was going to be the fucking worst before it even began.

It’s been a hectic week, to say the least. Every single one of my classes has heaped on the homework (and I’m taking seven classes, by the way), I’ve got an art show to be prepping for, I was already called in for my first light crew bench focus, I’ve taken up a babysitting job several days during the week, and I’m still working at the motel during my regular shifts. Needless to say, I could barely find time to go on my runs, let alone find time to breathe, sleep, and think. (Though finding time to eat hasn’t been an issue. On the contrary, overeating stress eating has begun, and my figure is not taking kindly to it. I’m going to try to put a stop to all of it this week.)

I’m hoping to use this weekend to my advantage. I’m already caught up on the majority of my homework, and so long as I can stay on the ball (especially with major papers and projects, which it looks like I’ll have a lot of this term) I think I’ll pull through.

154 more days to go.



PS. On top of all my stress, I was somehow coaxed into joining a Lord of the Rings RPG site (and by coaxed, I mean someone simply recommended that I join and I stupidly decided that I wasn’t stressed out enough as is and that it’d totally be a worthwhile pursuit). I’m sure it’ll be fun, but fuck, when the site starts stressing me out in a couple weeks I’m going to have no one to blame but myself.