When sayings aren't just sayings...

This time last week, I had a day that went down the toilet. Literally. How, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

My car, the sad looking rustbucket of an '86 Mustaang that is my favorite of the cars I've owned, had to have some repairs done. When the car's as old as this one, and had been pre-owned, it kind of happens. While waiting for my brakes to get fixed, I was using my grandma's truck. It ran nicely, was newer than my 'Stang, and, best of all, had a working heater. Not that I'm totally freezing in Johnny 5 (the Stang) but it was an added benifit.

So, scene set. I'm using grandma's truck to get to and from school and anywhere in between. I hit a lull in the day between my classes and rehearsal that evening, so I decided to go to WalMart and spend some of my refund check. I wanted to get a netbook (which I'm typing on right now, coincidentally enough) and had decided now was the best time. I did already have the cash. As I walked into the store, I made a quick stop in the bathroom.

Automatic flusher. Coat pocket too big.

Yes.

The keys to my GRANDMOTHER'S TRUCK took an unexpected dunk.

Despite the handicapped assistance keyring on it, a piece of plastic as long as my hand designed to make turning the key easier -

THE KEYS WENT DOWN THE TOILET!!!!!

I was, needless to say, in a complete panic. I remember staring, dubfounded, frozen, one hand stretched out to pluck the keys from the water - until the moment they got sucked down. Oh god... I was going to die.

Somehow, I kept myself together and, calmly enough, got some help from customer service.

Wait - did I say help? Yeah, wrong word.

Apparently, their plumbing system is too extensive for there to be any hope of anything to be retrieved once it's been swallowed. This, of course, meant I had to face my other fear - telling my grandmother I had lost the only key I had to her truck. the same key I needed to get back into the vehicle, never mind make it back to school for rehearsal.

SO not my day.

Ever the chicken, I took a roundabout route to my confession of being double crossed by the forces of gravity. I called my mom instead. She, in turn, called the grandparents.

Thank god they have good senses of humor.

They laughed. I calmed down and practiced some retail therapy while waiting for them to come, a cavalry of sorts, to bring me the spare key. The, not a, as they were careful to remind me in their ribbing. Needless to say, I took them seriously and kept the new key attached to my beltloop rather than trust my pocket. I also checked to make sure it was still there at least three times during that evening's rehearsal at school.

The true irony of this story? 1. The store was sold out of the netbook I wanted, seriously minimizing my opportunity at retail therapy. 2. My grandpa, a retired Navy Chief, talked to the management, the district, and possibly then some. I'm not sure how far up the corporate ladder of WalMart he climbed, but he got them to pull the toilet to search for grandma's key in the trap directly under the bowl. You know, after they told me they couldn't do anything to help me.

As I heard later, they found a couple sets of keys.

Not a one of them was my grandma's.

100 Facts About Me

A new trend has hit the RP community on Twitter: posting 100 facts about RL - real life, the person behind the character. As some may imagine, this can really boost a person's tweet count. I also thought it would make for an interesting blog entry, so here I go!

1. I'm left handed.

2. I have ADD and wasn't diagnosed until college.

3. I've worn glasses since I was in third grade.

4. I've never been able to wear contacts; I just can't get them in my eyes. Of course, the only time I tried was in middle school. Maybe I could do it now.

5. I love writing. It is my passion. I have always identified myself as a writer.

6. I love animals and have always owned pets. I spent two summers in middle school as an intern of sorts with a veterinarian.

7. At one time, I owned thirty-eight pets, all in a trailer house. The tally was: five fish in a 50 gallon tank, three jumbo sized rats (best rodents EVER!), two to seven mice (worst rodents ever; hard to identify sex), three to five hamsters of various types, two gerbils we wanted to get rid of - those bastards bite, a ferret I wish we still owned, four dogs, three cats, a guinea pig, two finches, two parakeets, a cockatoo, a beta fish, and two rabbits.

8. I love wearing sweaters. Mom used to have to box up my sweaters every summer because if she didn't, I'd keep on wearing them,

9. I didn't like Pepsi until my senior year of high school. A senior class trip to Medieval Times had me drinking the only soda they had, Pepsi, and I found out I actually enjoyed it as my taste buds had changed.

10. I'm a dog person. Always have been.

11. After high school, I briefly enlisted in the US Navy. It didn't work out; I only made it through three weeks of the eight week boot camp. The "mind games" were just too much for me to take. Those were easily the longest three weeks of my life.

12. I arrived at boot camp the day before Thanksgiving and made it home in time to celebrate Christmas.

13. I've been in two relationships that lasted longer than a year. Only one was sexual and it was with a woman.

14. I'm an incredibly logical person and pride myself on that fact.

15. I've been likened to an absent minded professor and am completely okay with that comparison.

16. I have to, HAVE to, have at least six and a half hours sleep to function properly through the day. Five hours to function at all.

17. The fastest way to get me to speak up, be assertive, etc. is to put me with a misbehaving child. I expect obedience from them and make sure I get it. I'm actually pretty good with kids, or believe myself to be.

18. I have automatonophobia, an illogical fear of automatons, wax figures, humanoid robots, or other figures designed to represent humans. I discovered this fear while touring a mental health museum that had once been a hospital. The two rooms Mom and I were standing between housed over two dozen wax figures and the display on phobias was down the hall. Pretty ironic timing.

19. I enjoy studying and researching. In eighth grade, I researched the Holocaust for an entire year simply to learn exactly how Hitler came into power because someone else wanted to know.

20. I've leash trained all my dogs by myself and walk them, on average, two miles a day

21. I was in the same school district from second grade through ninth grade.

22. I like red hair on guys and girls. Five of my previous partners have been red-heads.

23. I got a tattoo when I was twenty-one. It's on my left calf, about the size of my palm. It's a Celtic heart design based on a necklace I own. I decided on the tat when I was sixteen and it took five years for the money to get saved up and a fair price to be found. I've never regretted it and now want to get inked again.

24. I got my bellybutton pierced when I was sixteen, didn't keep it clean, and had it re-done about a year ago.

25. When I got my bellybutton re-done, I got my left eyebrow pierced as well. I wasn't told it would hurt to go through the scar tissue of my bellybutton until it was too late.

26. I've had my ears pierced since I was a baby. I don't wear earrings often at all.

27. I'm allergic to most metals and can only wear jewelry that's sterling silver, 24K gold, plastic, or titanium. Makes shopping for jewelry hell. This allergy was the reason my first bellybutton piercing was unsuccessful - I was allergic to the surgical steel.

28. I've had my hair cut almost in a buzz - all I had was bangs and the rest was cut down to maybe a quarter inch I think?

29. I have hypoglycemia, which is the exact opposite of diabetes. Whereas a diabetic's body can't make insulin, my body can't make glucose/blood sugar as well.

30. I used to have asthma.

31. I was born three months premature. I was 2 pounds 1 1/4 ounces and was 12 inches long.

32. The first letter I learned was 'E.'

33. Because I had to have needles stuck in my heels as a baby for blood tests, I still walk on my toes more often than my heels.

34. I played clarinet from sixth grade through high school and need to pick it up again.

35. I was in marching band in high school and loved it.

36. I still like some kids shows, specifically Arthur, Wishbone, and Reading Rainbow.

37. I love the 90s Nickelodeon shows and miss them all.

38. My favorite book has always been The Neverending Story by Michael Ende. The movies don't do it justice in the slightest.

39. I love re-reading books, something that completely baffles my mother.

40. I enjoy drawing, but have no significant skill at it.

41. I know how to dress for my body and can easily transition, wearing completely different looks from day to day. Despite this, I prefer comfortable clothes and classic cuts. My standard look is still jeans and t-shirts, though I am pulling some nice blouses into my look instead of the t-shirts.

42. One of the weirdest shows I've watched and enjoy watching regularly is Taboo. It, too, grosses my mother out. I like learning about the perspective other people, cultures, nations, etc. have on some every day things like death, marriage, coming of age ceremonies, etc.

43. I've got a pretty quick wit and a well-developed sense of humor and sense of sarcasm. It normally takes time for me to relax enough for people to see this.

44. I've recently gotten hooked on the game Sudoku.

45. I like reality tv shows that teach things. Taboo, My Strange Addiction, Project Runway, Top Chef, Intervention, Solitary, etc.

46. One of my favorite genres of music is showtunes.

47. I love being in the water, but can't swim.

48. I can grow my nails (fingers and toes) fairly long. My toenails have actually gotten so long in the past that I've cut my toes.

49. I've never bitten my nails.

50. A habit I've done most of my life is often thought to be biting my nails. I'm actually running the smooth edge of my nail across my top lip. Mom tells me I've done it since I was a toddler.

51. When I was young, a stranger creeped into our apartment, climbed over two of my sleeping brothers, and moved to me. I woke up and screamed, scaring whoever it was off before anything happened. From that day to this, I refuse to sleep in a bed that's pushed against a window.

52. I fall asleep and wake up in the same position every night/morning - fetal position, right side, facing a wall.

53. I do move in my sleep and always have except for times when I'm exhausted.

54. The only time I nap during the day is when I'm sick. It's usually one of the most telling signs that I'm sick.

55. I run a low grade fever. Any time I'm sick, my temperature 99% of the time sits squarely on 96.8 degrees exactly.

56. My favorite flowers are sunflowers and thistles. For the more typically "romantic" flowers, I like peach and yellow roses to red.

57. As a little girl, I once stepped on a burning cigarette butt.

58. I've never had to have surgery.

59. My boxer's fracture (described above) was the first time I broke a bone. Since then, I've broken both little toes. No major breaks yet.

60. When I'm feeling nauseous, I try to get sick because I feel better afterward.

61. I love going to art museums and have been doing so since I was around age four.

62. I love interactive science museums and would love to go to one now at age twenty-three.

63. Every car I've had including my first has been pre-owned.

64. The first car I bought with my own money died in the same month I made the last payment.

65. Every car I've owned has been a Ford. I'm beginning to sense a pattern.

66. I've never owned a car made in the same decade I was living in at the time I owned the car.

67. I didn't get my license until I was eighteen.

68. At twenty three, I still carry my under twenty one license because it hasn't expired yet.

69. I passed out in the Capitol building, under the rotunda, because I locked my knees while we were listening to the tour guide.

70. I've been to NYC twice, but didn't get to do many touristy things. Mom and dad were on a talk show.

71. I've traveled to Mexico on a mission trip with my youth group.

72. I once saved up money to pay for half of a VCR I wanted. My parents agreed to pay the other half. My allowance at the time was $2 per week and I saved every penny once we made our deal.

73. Our electricity went out at the stroke of midnight Jan. 1, 2000. I freaked out.

74. I don't gross out easily at all. At home, I'm the one who gets to clean up bodily fluids from people and pets and I once worked as an aide in a nursing home.

75. Through my life, I've tended to hit trends later than everyone else. I think the only ones I hit while they were still huge were Pokemon cards, Pogs, and Beanie Babies.

78. I still own all three of the above collections. I think I have a Furby somewhere too. My GigaPets/Tamagotchis/NaNo Pets have all gone away.

79. I've studied the religion of Wicca and have managed my own personal blend of beliefs between this and Christianity.

80. I raised goats for FFA shows my freshman and sophomore years of high school.

81. I got out of FFA and my dream of being a veterinarian when our move and my change of schools led to ag classes where nothing was taught.

82. I've only changed my major once in college, moving from English to Theater after my first year of school.

83. I started school in Fall of 06. If all goes as it should, I'll graduate in Fall of 11.

84. I've only been suspended from school once and it happened in college. This episode was what led to my diagnosis of ADD.

85. I took ballet and gymnastics classes as a very young child. Because of finances, I had to stop.

86. I don't like the cold at all. Winters are no fun.

87. My learning style is kinesthetic, visual, then auditory. First, I remember things that involve movement, then what I've seen, then what I've heard. Sometimes, when taking tests, I will picture my notes in my mind and can tell exactly what the page with the needed info on it looks like.

88. I don't wear jewelry often. When I do, I will generally pick specific pieces that I'll wear for days, weeks, months at a time.

89. One of my favorite classes was creative writing in seventh grade.

90. I've participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) every year since 2006 but have never made it to the halfway mark on the required word count. The closes I got was this past year.

91. I've always named my cars. Current vehicle, my 86 Ford Mustang is Johnny Five.

92. I'm incredibly diplomatic by nature. This drives a lot of people nuts.

93. I'm stubborn and I know this doesn't help me. I don't always gain all the knowledge I need before considering myself a "pro."

94. I throw and hit better with my right hand than my left.

95. Fuck is my favorite swear word. I started swearing at age sixteen.

96. I like food fights. They used to be a sort of family tradition and a favorite for birthdays.

97. I don't have the best sense of direction and use landmarks to know where I'm heading.

98. I have to fight to keep weight on my body. Every semester, my weight drops near the end and I have to spend breaks re-gaining weight so that I'm not underweight.

99. I know the alphabet in sign language.

100. My wisdom teeth still haven't come in, though I'm missing teeth in the back, upper row on both sides, which I hope will mean my wisdom teeth can grow in.

McLinkyMonday - Limitations For All

Following my Mom's example, I'm joining the McLinky Monday fun over at Real Housewives of Oklahoma. I thought it would be interesting to write up five things I can't do anymore - it didn't seem like a blog subject many 23 year olds would be taking part in.

1. Ride a scooter - I remember my old Razor scooter, Silver. I named him after the big rusty bike "Stuttering Bill" Denborough owned in Stephen King's It, which, of course, was taken from the Lone Ranger's horse. I used to zip all over on Silver, who was a fine replacement from the bike I never did learn to ride (can't even ride a bike now.) I loved Silver - even after the day I took a too steep hill too fast and tried to hit the brake. Over I went, falling off a platform that was, maybe, three inches off the ground. I broke my fall with my hand and got a boxer's fracture. On my left hand. The hand I write with. I kept Silver for a few years after that, but I don't think I rode him nearly as much after that fall.

2. Write as freely - When I was younger, when I wanted to write, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote. Nothing more, nothing less. I just wrote whatever. These days, I analyze things half to death and, more often than not, talk myself out of my ideas or get too critical of my own writing skills. Is the idea good enough? Can I write it? Why should I write it? Can I finish it? Will I finish it? I miss the old freedom.

3. Walk in grass - I know a lot of people are scratching their heads, so let me explain. I remember the last day I could freely walk in the grass barefoot. I was over at the little park in the trailer park we lived in at the time. I and my brothers, boys I've known for nineteen or twenty years and grew up with, spent the entire day running around, rolling down a hill in the grass, everything. It was so much fun. Until the next day. My face was red and swollen, a rash all down my arms and legs. As it turned out, I had been bitten by chiggers and was highly allergic. I had to spend a week out of school and go on steroids for the reaction to pass and the swelling to go down. From that day to this, I only go through grass if I'm wearing shoes, socks, and pants or won't be in it long. I can't even sit in the grass. Yes, it was only one outbreak, but I don't want to go through that again, so I don't risk it.

4. Make birthdays a big deal at school - In elementary school, a birthday that fell during the week was awesome. Even in middle school, birthdays were pretty cool. You got cake or cupcakes and a small party in the middle of the school day. Some of my favorite teachers would even get me small presents that they knew I would like. College? Forget it. Of course, college birthdays mean people get to buy you drinks. That's even better.

5. Goth look - I did the goth look in high school and blew my little town out of the water. I enjoyed it, despite the stupid comments. "Whoa! You're goth? Are you a Satanist?" "Um...I'm wearing a black t-shirt that says 'Fueled by Christ Alone.' Can't you read?" "You're wearing all blue today. Are you a blue goth?" "There's no such thing as a blue goth. My black jeans were all dirty and I happened to grab a blue t-shirt." "You can't be gothic and Christian!" "They're clothes, moron!" Yeah, that was...fun. These days, as a theater major, I've changed my thinking. Now, black clothes are not for daily wear - they're for backstage work. Only. That's why I buy black dye for my jeans, why I prefer black long sleeved shirts with no logos or decals on them. Black clothes mean work.

And there it is. My five things I can no longer do.

Life Goes On

Hello, my pretty pretty blog! I promise I'm not forgetting you on purpose! *brushes dust off main page* Okay, so it's been a while. Scrolling through, I see that I'm averaging, at best, two entries a month, if that. Wow, that's gotta change. ANYway.

Those of you who have been reading my Mom's blog might already have an idea of what's been going on. Good news: Dad's back on his feet, hobbling a little, after having all his toenails removed. I have pics of the cleaning process while everything was still healing. Not so good news: Grandma had a mild heart attack on, of all days, her birthday. She ended up in the hospital for two weeks and have to go through bypass surgery. I was in charge of the house for that time and, honestly, I think I did a better than average job of keeping things in order considering the suddenness with which everything happened. Mom, Dad, and Grandma made it home yesterday evening. Grandma has had to quit smoking after about 50 years and she's on oxygen right now, which she doesn't like at all.

Now that everyone's back home, Mom and I are working on getting the house back in order. School will be starting for the spring semester on the 18th. It's my senior year. I think it just might kill me. Lol. I'm taking a full 18 hour course load this semester with only two theater classes, three if you count Improv. My classes include: lighting design, Spanish, business and professional speaking, Shakespeare, Improv, and Texas government. In addition to that, I've been continuing my internship research in hopes that I can get an internship for this summer. I won't graduate until my internship is completed, so it is very important that I'm able to do it this summer so that I'm not held up an entire year.

In other news, I'm determined to try and blog more often. I've also been continuing some of last semester's work to improve my physical appearance, the way I carry myself, etc. and have managed to develop a little more awareness of that, I hope. With all the work I have this semester, keeping up with all that too just might be nothing short of a miracle. Wish me luck!

My inner need

"I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten - happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another." ~Brenda Ueland

Wow, do I ever know this feeling. When I'm writing, really writing, I'm into it, even if the words I'm stringing together don't make sense. Editing is step two, after all. Sometimes, I'll only manage a paragraph, like last night when I wrote less than ten sentences in a story that currently has no direction. Still, it felt good to write that little bit of words before I rolled over to sleep. Kind of like this blog. It's short, it's quick, and it's a way to get the thoughts out of my head and onto the page where they belong.

"I can’t help but to write, I have a inner need for it. If I’m not in the middle of some literary project, I’m utterly lost, unhappy and distressed. As soon as I get started, I calm down." ~Kaari Utrio

Keeping up

November has come and gone. My final word count on my novel was 22,117 which is more than I've managed any other year I've participated. Most of that was written in the first two weeks, including the time spent working on the last play of the semester. I'm proud of what I accomplished.

School has been insanely busy and it seems like everyone's getting sick. I know this is a problem just about everywhere, but it's not helped by the fact that students in the theater department tend to spend so much more time together. I'm sure I've been spreading my share of ick, though I know my cough and sore throat is nothing more than sinus drainage. I've come close to losing my voice a few times and am sick of being sick. Having a sore throat and occasional muscle aches does make acting class more difficult. The professors keep stressing that we all need to get more rest. I'm just trying to keep on top of the workload.

I've taken my yoga final, which gives me one less class to attend twice a week and one less thing to worry about. Now, I've just got to make it through the last week or so of class and then get through finals. I can't wait for Christmas break.

November Noveling Again

Yes, it's November, and yes, I'm making another attempt at NaNoWriMo. For those who may not have known, November is National Novel Writing Month. Participants number in the hundred thousands and live all over the world with ages ranging from young teens to 50s+. They all have one goal: write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I've been attempting NaNoWriMo since 2006 and haven't won once. This year, I'm already behind on my word count and missing about two days worth of writing. I also have three weekends out of the month claimed by school or social activities. And I have finals in December.

HOWEVER

None of that matters right now because my characters finally figured out a way out of last night's major league plot curve-ball. It's not that I didn't like the idea of writing about bringing down a major energy drink conglomerate, but giving my main character an addiction to energy drinks 400 or so words in wasn't exactly what I'd envisioned. If she's hooked on energy drinks and following one guy around, how is she supposed to meet and fall in love with the other guy and then start plotting to get him from his girlfriend? Last night, this plan changed to bringing down the evil energy drink conglomerates and their grip on America's youth. Now, I'm back on track and thrilled about it!

Okay, I've got to go build my word count now.

I trust it because it makes no sense

Lately, my world has been turned upside-down - in, potentially, a good way. I'm questioning a lot of assumptions that've been there for years, things I've thought about myself and the type of people I love. My subconscious mind has been sending signals I can't ignore, so I feel I have to follow them. These feelings are so strong and came on so suddenly that I can't ignore them. I'm going to start walking a new path in my journey through life.

I've suddenly realized there's someone I'm deeply attracted to, attraction on a level I've never reached before with others. I'm hoping to develop a better friendship with this person and, at the same time, break out of my shell a little and get noticed by others. Today, I cleaned out my closet and changed up my wardrobe (yes, part of my motivation for doing this was probably Special Someone.) I only kept a few t-shirts for theater work, a few pairs of jeans that look particularly flattering (read: tight) on me, and other than that it's all slacks, pants, leggings, skirts, dressy tops, and dresses. I've been reading up on good conversational skills, conversation starters, basic body language, etc. I also have all my make-up set out in plain view so I can wear it regularly. I'm trying hard to re-make myself without being fake or becoming someone I'm not.

How do you get people to notice you when you've never really wanted to be noticed before?

Backstage Life

I'm standing in the Green Room, the domain of the theater students. The room's cleaned pretty often, but never really neat - especially not with a performance lurking an hour an a half away. One of the round tables is littered with glass bottles of different sizes as well as a two liter bottle of off-brand cola, a cylinder of 5 pre-measured containers of off-brand kool-aid mix, a jug of Sunny D, a ziplock bag full of small bottles of food coloring, a bottle of cran-grape juice, and a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. People move freely in and out of the room, a steady flow of traffic as another table slowly gathers items brought for a bake sale and the third table still holds the remains of various quickly-eaten dinners. Some people, half in costume or dressed all in black, lounge on the worn green chairs/couches that line the walls. With black clothing encasing me from wrist to neck to my black steel-toed boots, I'm dressed for backstage work.

We're all hanging out, joking and laughing as I and my prop crew work on mixing drinks. Watered down cola becomes whiskey in one bottle. Some kool-aid and red food coloring turns it into rum in a second bottle. Water from the tap is used for fake vodka. Green powerade becomes absinthe. One or two actors ask what they'll be drinking, if the recipes have changed. They receive samples in shot glasses, which are them washed until they sparkle. Before long, though the drinks are not finished, I have to leave and trust my crew to complete the job. Out of the green room, I move down the hall and through the door marked 'Restricted Access - Backstage Employees Only', walk through the lobby, and into an unmarked door. The spiral staircase carries me up to the booth where I flip switches and start the house music playing.

It's 6:45, fifteen minutes til the gathering audience will be allowed inside the theater. As the music plays (I still haven't flipped the switch that will allow the lobby to hear anything) I run through the show's sound cues, making sure the right sound is coming out of the right speaker at the right volume - "checking levels," to use the technical term. Once I'm sure everything is working, I cut the sound effects, bump the levels (volume) on the house music, and head back downstairs, returning to the green room. I find the stage manager and let her know everything's ready. She heads out to help the light board operator run a dimmer check. Once that's done, the curtain will drop, hiding the set from view. I go to the green room and check on the drinks, reminding actors to check their props - once the show starts, those are no longer my responsibility until Saturday's post-performance strike. Seeing the drinks are underway, I'll claim a chair and open a textbook. This is one of the few chances I'll have this week to get my homework done and I've only got 15 minutes until the house opens. By then I have to be back in the booth.

I spend the show, an hour and a half of each evening from Sunday through Saturday, listening to a mix of dialogue from the stage and the SM's voice, the house manager's voice, the voices of stage-hands, etc. Everything but the dialogue comes in through the headset that wraps snugly around my skull. "Actors, house is now open. You have thirty minutes to places. Please check your props and keep quiet when on-stage." Were the curtain not down, the actors wouldn't be allowed on-stage during this time. Whoever's on headset takes advantage of the half-hour break and we start talking about anything until the house manager from the box office speaks up. "Are you ready to close house in five?" "Yes, ma'am, we're ready. Actors, I have five minutes to places, five minutes to places." (five minutes later, the SM asks for a pause in headset chatter) "Actors to places. Actors, I have places." "Warning, lights and curtain... House lights out. Curtain go. Warning, sound out and light cue 1. Lights go. Sound go." I slowly move the slider on the board down, letting the music fade out. Once it's out, I mute CD1, open the CD player, remove the disc and replace it with another for the end of the show, check that CD2 is muted on the board, check that the player for 2 is on and set to track one, turn back to the board, unmute 2 and wait.

While waiting, my eyes move up the row of buttons and knobs with perfect understanding. The small yellow key labeled mix doesn't need to be hit on row 2, only 1 and 3. Instead, the small keys next to 3 and 4 should be pushed, sending any sound from CD2 through the speakers backstage instead of the ones in the house. I bump the level up to -5 and wait for the SM. "Stand by, sound cue A." My thumb holds down a button on the small box at my waist, the mic close to my mouth. "Standing by." I release the button, making sure not to depress it twice and lock it into the on position, which would cause feedback. The line comes onstage, my cue, but I don't press play until the SM says "Sound cue A, go." At the word go, my body turned away from the board and towards the CD player in a space so narrow I couldn't possibly get a chair between the board in front of me and the bank of switches behind me, I push the play button. The sound lasts two seconds; I push pause as soon as it finishes, turn back to the board, and hit mute over the row that controls CD2. Once it's muted, I make the disc skip to the next track and wait again.

By the end of the week, it's all routine, something I could do in my sleep. I know the lines, the cues, the show, nearly as well as the actors onstage. Still, I never press the play button until the SM says the word "go" because that's just how it's done, how it works. It's one of the unwritten rules of the theater, like calling aloud before you fly something in or out so people know to get out of the way ("Curtain coming in!" "First electrics going out!") or leaving a "ghost light" on backstage once everyone's left the building or, in my department, calling "Hey, Clyde!" anytime you hear a strange noise in the catwalks or a light flickers when it's not supposed to. It's just a part of life backstage.

Now that that show has closed out, a week of performances where this commuter never made it home before 10 pm and then had to finish homework before waking up at 7 the next morning to get to class, I get to explore the acting side of things with our children's show. Once it's finished, I have mid-terms to study for and take, a project to complete for scenic painting class, and have to help paint the set for our third show. Though I didn't get cast in it, I might get to sound design. If not, I have to admit I'll be glad for the break.

ADD Awareness

Did you know that this whole week has been AD(H)D Awareness Week? I had NO IDEA! WOW! Well, as someone who has Adult ADD, I'll take this opportunity to talk about it a little. Or a lot. We'll see.

A lot of people these days are anti-medication. They prefer to seek out herbal or holistic remedies to their problems, which is fine if that's what you wanna do. If it works for you, more power to you. Reading online has shown me that some people don't consider AD(H)D a disease, that it's something children grow out of, and - somewhat illogical to my mind - that AD(H)D sufferers should meditate rather than medicate. While I agree that AD(H)D is somewhat over-diagnosed in today's schools, I also know that it is a genuine disorder, a chemical imbalance, and not something I'm going to grow out of. Meditation? Sure, I'll just try that.

I sit with my eyes shut, breathing slowly. Briefly, I wonder how stupid I look. Is there some way to communicate to others what I'm doing? Should I put a sign on my door "Meditating - Do Not Disturb"? Okay, that sounds even stupider. By this point, I've lost the rhythm of my breathing. My brain kicks in and starts analyzing something that happened at school, something I forgot to do or something that went really well or something I said that just didn't come out right. How could I have changed the situation? What might it have lead to?

I wonder about tomorrow. What homework haven't I done? What lines do I need to learn for acting class or for a show? Do I know my scene for acting as well as I think I do? What if my scene partner isn't there? In the middle of muttering lines under my breath, I wonder what projects I have to work on. Have I been putting something off til the last minute? Is there something I could get a head-start on? Which projects have I finished? How do I think I did? What could I have done better? What will I have to do on my next project to bring my grade up?

By this point, I've probably opened my eyes and dug out a book. The answers to the above questions, which all came at once, will determine whether I've grabbed a textbook or not. If it's a textbook, I'll put in some real effort...before getting bored and reaching for a different textbook. If it's not a textbook, I'll make myself put it down because I'm supposed to be doing homework. Which assignment should I work on first? Which one will take more time? Which one am I more worried about? Which one's due first? Which one might be graded easier? Time to dig out the planner. And the assignment sheets. And the syllabus for each class. And my script so I can review my lines in those moments where I just can't read another sentence from that dry, dusty textbook. Can't find one syllabus. Damn. Room's a mess, I'll never find it. Need to clean the room, especially if the mess is getting to me. No telling how Mom feels about it. I'm glad she hasn't said anything.

I look around, trying to figure out where to start. The textbooks I'll need later, but they don't need to stay on my bed. I stack them up to go on the desk, but there's a pile of papers there. I have to sort through those first. Then the trash needs taken out. Passing through the dining room, I realize I'm hungry. Need a snack. Dump the trash, head back inside, grab something simple - some candy, an apple, whatever. Fuel for the body. What was I doing? Oh, right. Need to start some laundry before I run out of clothes. Gather up the pile and shove it into the laundry bag, all the while asking myself why the clothes weren't in the bag to begin with. I know why, of course. Lack of follow-through, no habit formed yet. Fill up the laundry bag, digging dirty socks and shorts out of the bottom of the closet and out from under the bed. Put away the clean laundry sitting on the desk chair from mornings of reject outfit after outfit as suitable for the day's expected workload at school.

Since I'm a theater student, it does make a difference some days what I wear. On days I have yoga, I don't need to wear jeans. Some days, I have to wear clothes that I don't mind getting pain all over. I always have to wear/bring close-toed shoes in case I have to do any work in the scene shop. My black pants and shirts need to stay clean for shows where I work backstage and for Improv performances every Wednesday, where I'm a camera operator. Since I commute, this is more of a challenge, as my clothes are generally worn all day. After all, driving to school, going to class, and driving home for a change of clothes only to drive back to school is a waste of gas, even on days I would have the time to do it. Anyway, back to the room cleaning.

I see the food sitting by the tv or where ever I've put it and realize I haven't been eating. Take a few bites. Go to the computer to turn on some music. Dig through playlists to see that nothing overly objectionable is played.(I tend to avoid my Avenue Q playlist any time my three year old sister is visiting or I think guests might be coming by.) Adjust volume so my music isn't heard through the whole house. Adjust it again cause it's too quiet. Switch to a song I want to listen to. Switch again. Stupid shuffle feature not pulling up good songs. Figure out which song I really want to hear and find it; to hell with the shuffle feature. Back to cleaning, singing along.

Dog runs in and jumps on the bed, most likely landing on something I don't want him on. Scold him, then take it back, realizing he doesn't know any better and just wants to see what I'm up to. Pet the dog. Give kisses. Get scratched when he jumps on me. Pet the other one-three dogs who have come in, realizing I'm giving out some love. Pet the cat(s) who have joined. Yell at the dog(s) for chasing the cat(s). Check that the pets have food and water. Finish my snack. Pick up a book. Remember that I'm supposed to be studying and reach for a textbook. God this stuff is boring. Switch the music to a new song. Turn it off. Go to the music channels on the tv and find some classical, which is supposed to help you study better. Back to the boring textbook. Get confused. Go talk to Mom or Dad to try and make sure that what I'm thinking sounds right. Tell them about my day. Remember as I'm talking about another something I'm supposed to be working on. Back to the bedroom.

Find the project/assignment stuck somewhere, already done. Huh. I don't remember doing that. Oh well. One thing off my plate. Shoo cats away from the dish my snack was in; there's nothing left for them. Switch the music to a DVD I've seen millions of times, probably Friends, which I can totally ignore and use as background noise. Open the textbook again. Doodle in the margins of my notebook in the middle of taking notes. Lose my spot. Read the same passage twice. Skip to the next chapter. Remember a possible vocab quiz in another class and start looking for the sheet with the terms on it. Can't find it. Damn!

Time to send some texts. Does anyone in class have the list? Find it, get it, copy it, send eternal thanks to whomever helped me. Remember to thank them in person next time I'm on campus. Mom calls. Dinner time. Go eat. Return to studying. Finally get through the boring chapter of the textbook, understanding nothing. Write down questions to ask the prof. Make note of people to talk to about whatever I'm doing for the latest play. Remember something funny one of them said. Share anecdote with Mom or Dad. Sit and watch tv with parentals, ready to relax some before bed. Grab my laptop & head to twitter or facebook or a RP forum. Remember homework. Start doing research online. See a random update on facebook and react appropriately, whether by offering virtual hugs or commenting or liking or sharing good news with whoever else is in the room, even if they don't know who I'm talking about. Focus on the tv for a while. Remember my earlier attempt to meditate. Whoops. Too late now. Stay on the computer til it's time for bed.

Yeah, that's probably a fairly accurate depiction of the way my mind works. Meditation? Not so much. Though there are days I hate having to swallow a pill, I'll stick with it cause it works. Well, I'll try to stick with it. If I remember.