Who say's hard work doesn't pay off? I now belong to a professional theatrical troupe.

Bio hasn't been posted yet.

Also, visit Applause Ltd.

When Jo-el updates the website, you'll also note that I'm the newest member of the Interim Board of Directors AND their Education Liaison/Coordinator.

SO THERE!

This afternoon I went to Cost Cutters after school. Normally I avoid such places, but it's cheap and I'm broke.

When I arrived I was taken to a station and told my stylist would be with me "in a moment".

Enter... we'll call her "J".

J was frazzled, and I could tell she was completely ungrounded and energetically unbalanced. She'd just arrived to her shift, and proceeded to rush about at an attempt to find all of her things. I waited patiently, assuring her that I had no where to be and could most certainly wait. "There's no need to rush."

Mostly, her running around was making me nervous. If this woman can't handle being late to work, then how can she handle anything work related?

J finally settled, and began to trim my hair. I asked for no more than an inch off, just to clean up the ragged ends and give it a little bit of shape. Easy? One would like to think so.

We chatted for a few moments; basic ice-breaker stuff.

"Where do you work? Oh! Middle school, that must be rough! My girls are in middle school. I sometimes wonder if I should just lock them up in the closet until they're 20."

At this point, she began to cry, and launches into a tirade relating to her ex-husband and custody of the children and how he's an absolute jerk and left her for a younger more beautiful woman and took the girls and it's not her fault she can't hold a job the economy is so bad and she's so lucky to have this job because if she gets fired again she'll lose visitation rights and blah blah blah.

I mean, of course my heart went out to this woman. How could I not feel bad for her? The trouble was, she kept cutting. And cutting. And cutting.

Pretty soon, J was in hysterics. And still cutting my hair. I finally managed to flag down the manager and ask if there is anyone else who can finish my trim because obviously J is unwell and needs a few moments to calm down.

The manager took over. She told J to take an early lunch, and then looked at the back of my head with a puzzled expression. And then a frown. And furrowed eyebrows.

Uh oh.

She explained to me that in order to "clean up" the mess J left, she would need to take off at least 4 inches.

I've been trying to grow my hair long for two years now. 4 inches is nearly 6 month's worth of growth!

"How bad is it?"

"Remember when your little cousins thought it would be hilarious to hack at your hair with scissors?"

"Oh."

45 minutes (and some creative layering) later, my hair was roughly shoulder length. The manager apologized to me a hundred times over, paid for my cut, and gave me a $25 gift card. Like I'm going to go back there. Ever.

At this point, I'm just grateful I have hair left.

*Note to self: I get what I pay for. Cheap hair cuts mean undereducated stylists. Looking good and getting what I want is worth an extra $10-$20.

Step 1: Open your music Library,
Step 2: Select Shuffle,
Step 3: For each option, fill in the current song,
Step 4: ???
Step 5: PROFIT!

Title - Artist

Opening credits: Miracle - Paramoure

First Date: Night Like a River - Hem

Falling In Love: Hold You Forever - Kristine Sa

Love Scene: Beautiful Day - U2

Fight Scene: Weapon of Choice - Fatboy Slim

Breaking Up: Bad Bad Girls - Chak De India

Making Up: Time After Time - Eva Cassidy

Secret Love: First Day of my Life - Bright Eyes

Life's Okay: Creatures (For Awhile) - 311

Mental Breakdown: Golden Brown - The Stranglers

Driving:  Smile - Lily Allen

Learning A Lesson: I Constantly Thank God for Esteban - Panic! At the Disco

Deep Thought: Amnesia - Chumbawumba

Nostalgia: Long Line of Cars - Cake

Flashback: The Recluse - Cursive

Happy Dance: Hysteria - Muse

Regretting: Haunted - Evanescence

Long Night Alone: You Belong to Me - Jason Wade

Final Battle: Lyrical Lies - Cute is What We Aim For

Death Scene: When Your Heart Stops Beating - +44

Closing Credits: Children on Parade - Colin Hay

My students never fail to amaze me. They're brilliant children, who may never receive a chance in this world because they were born poor. Egalitarian society my ass. What I see every day are the fruits of the labor of the myth of the "American Dream". No one works harder than my students and their parents. They're still uninsured, on free-lunch, and frequently left to fend for themselves.

The child I'm writing about just lost his stepmother in Iraq. He's living with his father again after nearly two years of separation (his father was stationed over-seas too, he's been living with a grandmother I think...). He's an incredible kid. Absolutely brilliant. Sweet, funny, insightful... its amazing the way he has managed to squeeze his way into my heart.

This morning, before school, he brought me a poem he'd written to read at his stepmother's funeral. It surprised me, because getting this kid to write is like pulling teeth. He's severely dyslexic and dysgraphic, to the point that you can hardly decipher what he's trying to write about. Of course, district provided prompts aren't exactly the kind of writing that spawns creative genius. Anyway, he handed me this piece and asked me to type it out for him, so he could read it this weekend. I was stunned. Absolutely blown away. I started to cry, his words were so heartfelt and beautiful. He smiles and says "That bad huh?"
I told him, "No A----, that good. Where did this come from?"
"My heart, Miss."

Here's the poem he gave me, in its original form (with the dyslexic misspellings and such...I find his writing endearing), and the translation I printed and gave to him.

sorow of loss (as written)

i'm sad like the bird how lost his vous
for the birds
vous of song brout him hapenes
as you did for me
bet then I lost you like the bird lost
his vous on the old oke tree
for a part of me fills missing sens I lost you
i miss your bute like the tree
misses its bute
fell groun of leafs in the cold dark winter
yet en like the bird and the tree
how will get ther losses back
i may never see the butty that makes me happy egen

**

Sorrow of Loss (corrected by Ms. D-------)

I'm sad, like the bird who lost his voice.
For the bird's
Voice of song brought him happiness,
As you did for me.
But then I lost you,
Like the bird lost his voice
On the old oak tree.
For a part of me feels missing since I lost you.
I miss your beauty like the tree
Misses its beauty
Full ground of leaves in the cold dark winter
Yet unlike the bird and the tree,
Who will get their losses back,
I may never see the beauty that makes me happy again.

This simple little poem will never leave my heart. I'm so impressed with what he came up with, and I want him to keep writing. A talent like his should not be allowed to slip through the cracks. I know I can't change the world. As a first year teacher, I can barely have an impact on school policy. But this boy single-handedly reminded me of why I'm doing this insane thing in the first place. He, and all of my students, inspire me every day to do my very best to teach them how to read and experience everything the world throws at them. To write their feelings, and share them. To acknowledge literature as a record of human experience, and to add their own work to that record. I want so much for them to be the best people they can possibly be.

So I will be the best person I can be, tomorrow and every day, and expect nothing less of them.

Hopefully, my little geniuses will rise the the challenge.

SO, no matter where you go, colleges suck.

I signed up late to take the PRAXIS exam. I was supposed to have done it before fall semester, but I simply didn't have $165 to drop on a test until literally three weeks ago, when I signed up. I'm scheduled to take it on November 15. I spoke to Kris and Mike, who both seemed to think this was an acceptable option.

Yesterday, I received a letter from the department indicating that because of policy, I needed to complete the PRAXIS before student teaching, and that I would be terminated from the program. Needless to say,  I wrote a lengthy appeal explaining that I couldn't afford to sign up for the test until recently and that I'd been informed that taking the PRAXIS in November was acceptable.

My cooperating teacher spoke to me this morning (apparently they called her to inform her of the situation), and she said she'd told them that what it comes down to is CC policy, and that they should make an exception for me, because I'm doing so well and to deny me the opportunity to become a teacher over a policy would be the stupidest decision they would ever make. I love Pat.

I'm so angry right now. This "department policy" was not in any of the literature I've seen from the school. I know I screwed up signing up for the test late, but I can't help my financial situation, now can I? And I was told that taking the test in November was OKAY. Plus, the only reason I take the PRAXIS so early is so that the licensure I receive at the end of the program is solidified. I don't even need it to get my emergency license in December so I can intern at the school.

I'm so angry I just want to explode. I've been invoking Athena all day, praying that my appeal will go through. I'll know by Wednesday, I think.

Think happy thoughts for me.

Lemon Zinger tea
honey
1 shot Jack Daniel's whiskey

Serve warm, honey to taste.

2 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp butter, salted
2 shots amaretto
dash of clove and cinnamon

Place brown sugar, clove and cinnamon in mug. Add amaretto. Fill with boiling water. Add butter. Mix until all ingredients are melted.

The second one is absolutely phenomenal. Great way to make my day better.

Since I'm home sick with something that vaguely resembles the flu, I thought I would post a short update, since it's been so long.

The most exciting news is that Libby and I are engaged again. In living together, and taking the time to get to know one another again, we remembered how much love was there between us. It's going to be hard, but I'm sure the two of us can manage. We love each other very much.

I'm frustrated with people, as always. I'm irritated with the way people will lie in a way they believe is saving your feelings, when really the lie hurts more than the truth would. I'm always surprised when someone who has been my friend for a while can manage to know nothing at all about me.

School is eating me alive. My only break from it are NERO weekends. So, once a month I get a mini vacation to save my sanity.

That's all I seem to have energy for right now.

Peace and Love.

"I'm giving you my blanket permission to not only download it, but also to email it, burn it, and share it with anyone and everyone (in the U.S. and Canada only). I want you to use 'Slacker Uprising' in any way you see fit to help with the election or to do the work that you do in your community. You can show my film in your local theater, your high school classroom, your college auditorium, your church, union hall or community center. You can have your friends and neighbors over to the house for a viewing. You can broadcast it on TV, on cable access, on regular channels or on the web. It's completely free -- I don't want to see a dime from this. And if you want, you can charge admission or ask for a donation if it's to raise money for a candidate, a voter drive, or for any non-profit or educational purpose. In other words -- it's yours!"

I'm a little behind the game when it comes to politics right now. Plus, I'm posting this before I run off to teach seventh graders, so I don't have much time to comment, but I pulled this little gem from McCain's acceptance speech and just had to say something.

"We believe in a government that unleashes the creativity and initiative of Americans. Government that doesn’t make your choices for you, but works to make sure you have more choices to make for yourself."

That's a direct quote, taken right out of the transcript.

The bold there is the bit that got me. What a load. I couldn't believe it.

It's official! I was accepted into the MAT program at CC.

I'm going to grad school!!

Last night, I got wind that there is a rumor floating about that I have performed acts of an illicit sexual nature with a male friend of mine. Although the idea is laughable, I am very insulted by the insinuation.

People at our age(s) should know better than to simply make up information based on speculation and then share it.

I would be very grateful to anyone who can offer me any clue as to how this rumor got started, and who had the audacity to suggest that I could do such a thing. Also, I would ask that if you hear someone speak of it, correct them, and remind them that rumors are just that, and not at all based in the truth.

Klitus!

I giggled like a prepubescent girl...

I know its not my take-home final! Bah!

My interview with Colorado College went well this afternoon. I responded strongly, they seemed interested in what I had to say, my writing sample was pretty good...

So why do I feel so miserable?

It got so real this afternoon. Graduating, leaving Cornell, leaving Iowa...it's really going to happen. And I'm absolutely terrified. I feel like I'm floundering, like I'm being buried alive, and I'm so profoundly alone. I can't remember feeling lonesome like I do right now. I know there are people who care, I know that I could go to a million different rooms right now and cry my heart out, I know that...but I still feel like the universe is devoid of presence.

I worry so much that I get migraines. I worry that something will happen, that I won't be able to graduate. I worry that with the way things change, I will be kept apart from the people I love, and I worry about losing them to the sands of time. I worry about my friends who are dealing with tough emotional crap. I worry that every thing I love, everything I've worked for is going to slip from my fingers.

I bottle it. I put a stopper in it.

I smile

and smile

and smile

and smile

until I feel like I'm going to vomit.

In doing my research on the candidates for our upcoming presidential election, I have discovered something disturbing.

None of the democratic candidates support gay marriage.

This might seem like a silly detail. But I am seriously disappointed that none of them have stepped up to defend the basic rights of American citizens. Gay people aren't asking for anything special, just the same legal protections and opportunities that every other American has. I am surprised and appalled that none of them see this. Of all the criteria by which I was judging candidates, I didn't imagine that none of them would meet the mark here.

I think I have some letters to write.

That's it. It's been decided. I have acted in one show my department has put on my entire four years here. I don't know how you get through four years of a program and never see the stage. I wanted to be in the last show of my senior year. Is that too much to ask? I feel like I've been throwing my money away. Like putting it in the garbage would have been a better use for it.

I hate the theatre department. I hate it. I never thought anything could ruin my love of the stage. Surprise! For the grand total of $120,000, I can no longer stand the theatre. I have never doubted myself as greatly as I do right at this moment. I feel so stupid for having actually got my hopes up. Me? Cast in a Cornell Production? Ha! I shouldn't have even bothered. This whole school (with few exceptions) has been a grand ol' waste of my time.

I've been paying money to help other people pad their resumes, really. The Golden Children of my class are once again on stage. And I am once again left in the dust.

If I had no talent, someone would have told me by now, right?

I can't remember the last time I've been so angry. I'm angry at the department, angry at myself, angry at the whole damn thing. I hate crying in public, I hate all the "are you ok? are you ok? are you ok? are you ok?" No, I'm not fucking OK, now leave the FUCK alone. I know everyone means well. But I just don't want to think about it. I don't want to have my failings rubbed in my face. Talking hurts. I'd just as soon ignore the open, festering wound this department has given me.

We are swimming with the snakes
At the bottom of the well
So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell
But we are not snakes and what's more
We never will be
And if we stay swimming here forever we will
Never be free
I heard them ringing the bells
In heaven and hell
They got a secret
They're getting ready to tell
It's falling from the sky
Calling from the graves
Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved
Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved
Let's take a walk on the bridge
Right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing, baby
We've already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air
And we were blessed
Everybody needs a little forgiveness
Everybody needs a little forgiveness
We are calling for him tonight on this
Thin phone line
As usual we're having ourselves one
hell of a time
And the planes keep flying right over our heads
No matter how lond we shout
Hey, hey, hey !
And we keep waving and waving
Our arms in the air
But we're all tired out
I heard somebody say
Today's the day
A big old hurricaine
Is blowing our way
Knocking over the buildings
Killing all the light
Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night
Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night
Let's take a walk on the bridge
Right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing, baby
We've already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air
And we were blessed
Everybody needs a little forgiveness
Everybody needs a little forgiveness

27 pages. 4 1/2 hours.

And it's not all shit.

I am amazing. I think I deserve a party or something.

*o_o*

Unbelievably wonderful things have happened this weekend. For the first time in a long long while I feel...together. I know what I want, I'm doing what I need to get done to get there, and I'm happy with my life.