frustration

Yesterday was kind of rough. I got to work at 11 because I was scheduled at 11. At 11:45 I was about ready to open the bar but the building still seemed suspiciously empty so I asked the box office people and they said the lobby wasn't open until 2 and they had no idea why we were there so early. I called BL to wake her up find out if she knew something no one else did. Turns out the schedule was probably just a typo and the new guy and I were there two hours early with nothing to do. I was unhappy. That's two hours of morning I could have been asleep in bed. Not cool.

There's this one man on the front-of-house (ushers and stuff) staff who's in his 40s or 50s and is very nice but kind of creepy. Something seems off with him, but it's hard to place. They had him run the satellite bar yesterday, and he apparently hates it and had only done it once before. I put on my teacher hat and helped him through the set-up. Another person helped him run it and break it down. Then I showed him how to do the paperwork. I think he must be LD or just this side of retarded, because it took 45 minutes of me sitting there with him and going through step-by-step in a way that reminded me of helping the first graders with their homework. He couldn't count by 20s and instead went through his money saying "10 20...30 40...50 60" It was sad and frustrating and after he was done and out of the bar I went in the back room and closed the door and screamed.

NBF wasn't feeling well so when we were on our way out and dropping my car off by my apartment for lack of parking in Wrigleyville we stopped in my apartment. I'm living in my own filth these days. He's seen it before, but it's as bad as it's ever been (those of you who know my living space tendencies know quite how awful that must be) and it makes me very mad at myself. Add to that my dog completely freaking out and barking and shaking and panting for a solid hour while NBF lay quietly on my bed and the shame and frustration was too much. I love my dog just. so. much and I don't know what to do when he gets like that besides never have people in my apartment ever but it goes back to my whole Fortress of Solitude tendency and I'm going to die alone and they'll find me days later behind a pile of empty frozen dinner boxes. I hate myself for it.

personal inventory

• I'm not good at juggling many friends. A few friends are good, but I can only handle regular contact with a couple of people at any given time.
• I try to scare people off before they get to know me because I am absolutely terrified to lose existing friends to my rampant personality flaws.
• Plenty of people who turn out Ordinary feel they are destined for Great Things. I do not want to turn out ordinary. I have all this creativity and compulsion to write and be creative, but I can't find my direction right now so I end up playing WebSudoku instead of producing beautiful things that will make me rise to greatness. I wish I could be satisfied with Ordinary. I vividly remember the moment when I first realized I wasn't going to grow up to be a Princess and was far more likely to turn into just another person like my parents. I was seven. It was awful
• I think many of my Issues stem from my having developed intellectually before I was emotionally ready to cope with Reality. I was very aware of the darker side of humanity at a tender age, but my cushy life* prevented me from forming the callused strength normally associated with the Old-Before-Her-Time child.
• Being super-cynical yet super-sensitive very much defines me as a person.
• I need to put myself to use already. Can this school thing please start now? I'm getting restless.

*which, for the record, I'm not complaining about.

taken and left

Surgery was successful and friend is doing fine. Much relief, though the rest of the relief won't come until the test results are back.

I have a friend who, like me, has an eclectic set of interests and life-pursuits that don't necessarily mesh well with one another. Unlike me, he tends to keep them compartmentalized and only shows certain facets to certain people. I prefer to take my ugliest and most shocking, dislikable bits and lay them right out there and declare "This is me - take it or leave it," then get indignant and bitter with the world when it chooses to "leave it." Clearly, both methods are flawless. But as he figured out earlier today, he is narcissistic while I am ego centric: he thinks he is the best while I think I am the center. It's an interesting but important distinction.

Soylent Green

Today I will be spend knitting in a hospital waiting room. My friend is having a procedure that is not in itself scary but does require some major slicing and dicing and should tell us (though not immediately) if it's something much worse. I'm scared, and I'm not the one being chopped up. Isn't there some rule against young, spry people having terrible diseases? There's so much else to worry about when you're a 20-something, and almost everything is a beginning. At least, the things you have to choose are about beginnings - careers, significant others, babies, where and how to live your life. And we act like it's all within our control, simply a matter of deciding and finding and doing. But whether it's fate or God or random variation or a powerful malicious monkey, there's just so much mortality thrown in there, mocking our choices and making them for us. Things our bodies do and don't do that we not only failed to take into account, but that make all our accounting seem silly and frivolous. We try so hard to explain and justify and ignore our mortality because we need to cope. The Unknown is terrifying. I am terrified. Part of me wants to "take the blue pill" and ignore such mortality and complete lack of control, but how can I? It's the choice to pretend it's all a choice, and I'm not even sure I wish it was a choice.

All this and more will remain unresolved. Frustrating.

ugly

My phone is dead and the new one won't be here until tomorrow at the absolute earliest, so I'm a bit cut off from the world. Feeling ugly and lonely. Not for lack of the love of family and friends, but I want Boys to think I'm pretty and wonderful, even after they get to know me. Why does that seem so hard? External validation, dammit.

I have half a post from a few days ago written, but I'll write the other half when I'm less cranky and back-date it.

Sing it, Dorothy Parker:

Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying,
Lady, make a note of this —
One of you is lying.

!!!

My brother just got into his early decision college! And much rejoicing followed!

overdue

Just got off the phone with Nameless Chicago College: they have everything except my letter of recomendation, which I know got mailed from Cleveland yesterday! So this going back to college thing should actually happen! Huzzah! I'm ready for it. Bring on the classes and required readings and papers and assignments.

Yesterday, I slept. It was wonderful. There was nothing I absolutely had to do, so I did absolutely nothing. My apartment was cold and my dog was being snuggly, so it was like having a furry hot water bottle that loves me.

Sunday was my improv show. It went just fine, except that one of the scenes got cut out for time and the Model ended up getting about 45 seconds of stage time, which sucked for her since she's actually good and wanted to be there and all. I'd been pushing for us to try the show timed for weeks, and one scene in particular wasn't going anywhere and then they just didn't end it, but this was our first show and we're only a level C class, so it's not that big a deal. My whole family, including my cousin and cousin-in-law, all came to see it. That part was very nice. Considering my sibblings and I make jokes about the sexual nature of the Holocaust and my sister frequently tells me she hopes I get raped up the ass without any lube, I didn't have to worry about censoring myself and it's good to have audience members who are obligated to love you.

Please Pass the Barbiturates

Couldn't sleep last night until 5 AM, took 4 hours to do two loads of laundry this morning because some bitch took my we clothes out of the washer and proceeded to take up both dryers for three hours straight so I ended up two hours late for my improv class's final rehearsal before tomorrow's show. An hour and a half to try and find presents (or at least silly stand-in presents until I come up with something more quality) for my family, who will be doing Hannukah tomorrow night, walk the dog, and change for work. Not surprisingly, I was late to work as a result. Bah. But BL switched with me so that I worked the bar while she worked the concessions stand thing upstairs, partly because she'd been there all day and wanted to go home earlier, and partly as a thank-you to me for last week when I was the only person in town. Tonight was the opening of previews for the new main stage show, so the front of house manager bought her entire staff a round of drinks and the production head people bought the crew a round of drinks and the actors bought themselves many, many rounds of drinks and I didn't get out of there until 2 AM but I made $122 in tips. Thank you, BL!

Now I have to be at the improv performance space at 11 AM and I'm hungry and exhausted but still wired from bartending and caffeine and the impending show. And I need a break as I'm lousy at handling stress like this but I don't have a free night until December 26, so hopefully I'll make it until then.

Last night, I ran the bar at work all by myself, and it went suprisignly well. And I made over $75 in tips. Lots of actors in full costume sneaking out of their tech rehearsals for free champagne. Very amusing.

Tonight I saw Argonotika with my family. It was quirky but wonderful. Clearly written by a women, as the female characters were the ones with depth and ran the course of the show. David Schwimmer was there. He's a member of the theater company. My mother and sister were very excited.

imbalance

I feel like a lot of people in my life are having a rotten go of things right now. Cancers and big break-ups and general unhappiness with life. I feel the need to pour a shit-ton of joy into the cosmos to make the world whole again. Maybe I can knit scarves for autistic baby seals in my "free time." That's sure to work.

Today was my precious, precious day off. I had tentative plans with SUC, so I called him and left him a message after I woke up around 1, showered, walked the dog, and fell back asleep. I've got this strange lurky migraine thing going. SUC never called back, but I didn't try his home phone or anything as I was unconscious for much of the day. Now I'm drugged up but still experiencing pain and light-sensitivity but no other symptoms (no nausea and I can actually think, so I can't complain too much) and I can't sleep. I should clean my apartment, but that's really unappealing right now with my vision all funky.

I'm such a kvetch. I'm annoying the hell out of myself right now. Where's my Dorothy Parker?

mortality

So I have a friend who may have cancer. That's been taking up most of the thoughts going through my mind tonight; I can't even imagine what's going through his. I hate the uncertainty of mortality. Maybe I'll just wrap myself in existentialism or develop a deep belief in an afterlife. Yes, good idea, Annabell.

lazing

I messed up and told Birdy something that I'd forgotten NBF wasn't planning on telling people. I'm usually such a good secret-keeper, too. I just forgot to tag it in my brain as a secret.

I am the most lazy, useless, procrastinatalicious person ever. I'm finding myself very annoying right now, but not in an inspirational get up and actually do shit sort of way. I'm blaming the cold. I'm getting much less exercise as a result of it, since the dog and I seem to be able to stand about 5 minutes outside before one or both of us insist on going in. Assuming I do actually start school next month (I had to resend my transcripts since they only hold onto them for a month without a completed application...very annoying) I need to start going to their gym. Get buff and studly. Maybe stick my dog on a treadmill, too. They'd love that.

It is Friday but it feels like a normal person's Monday since I'm about to start a bunch of crazy-busy days in a row after having a few relaxing ones. Think I can sneak in a quick nap before work? I'm certainly going to try.

cold, movie, cold

It is bitter, bitter cold. I do not like it.

Saw Borat tonight with my cousin and cousin-in-law. Very funny. Oh my goodness unattractive naked men wrestling very naked and very wrestling. Good to go out with good people. Didn't do enough productive crap today, but I don't have to go in to work until tomorrow evening, so perhaps I can knock a few things off before then. I shouldn't be this tired. It's the weather. My body wants to hibernate. Curl up with the dog until the world is warm again.

expert advice

Alcohol and friends are the perfect cures for boys and mothers and unhappy employment.

From the experts:

The sun's gone dim, and
The moon's turned black;
For I loved him, and
He didn't love back.

-Dorothy Parker

I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.

-Groucho Marx

And, for what it's worth, I no longer think it's possible to escape becoming one's parent(s). My mother makes me crazy and I'm headed straight for her, kicking and screaming.

Daughterhood Damnation

Today I'm being a jerk because I overslept and since I have to go in to work tonight it's not worth my coming over for just a few hours, so I'm coming tomorrow instead and the painters are supposed to start on my former room today. I'm the one saying I'm being a jerk. I'm allowed to be a jerk. But I'm being too passive-agressive about my jerkiness. I think the trouble is she and I are both being completely passive-agressive and trying to negotiate doing things for ourselves versus things for eachother while the two goals are at odds. We both see ourselves as martyrs for the other and just end up miserable. But as long as we're going to be narcisistic about things, I'm now trying to take care of myself first which means being the "bad guy" and trying to stomach my role as such. Except even in doing that I'm still pulling my whole martyr bullshit in that "I will take on the negative role in order to free us from this vicious cycle." Please tell me there is some way to escape from a) myself and b) turning into my mother. Because this little dance leads right back to Depressionville and I hate it. And being aware of it just frustrates the hell out of me when I still don't know how to stop it. I end up overwhelmed and useless and crying and crawling back into bed. Mmmm...bed...

But now here's a thought: perhaps the reason cleaning out my old room has been such an issue is that it's admitting I've grown up and moved on. And for me cleaning it out sucks because it feels like going back (not to mention it's tedious and insanely time consuming), while for her drawing out the process just makes it more painful. It's a thought. Let's just hope tomorrow I can finish it all and be done with it. At least this particular chapter of "it." I'm sure the shit with my mother will continue until we and any female offspring into the future of our family lines are all dead.

s-t-r-e-s-s

Note: identifying details in this story have been changed to maintain the thinly veiled identity of the author so she can't get fired again for blogging.

Last night, the Brazillians finished the run of their show at my theater of employment. This meant an open bar sponsored by company management. That meant a lot of very drunk Brazillians. Apparently, these guys are big stars back in Brazil. Here, not so much. Two of them in particular were hitting on everything with a vagina. One is very large and kept groping the girls who work as ushers and in the box office, then kissed BL and my hands and told us we were beautiful when we wouldn't give him another drink 30 minutes past last call. We had to physically force him out of the bar and lock the door. There's something very satisfying about having power over a large, attractive, famousish Brazillian.

Otherwise, work sucked. I had to be there by 11 AM so I could be out of the lobby before the downstairs show opened even though the studio lobby didn't open until 1:30 and the show wasn't until 3. That's a lot of time standing around doing nothing. I got things for Tina and set things up for BL and made coffee. Facinating. Business was decent for a Sunday afternoon and people were very nice, so that part wasn't too bad. I put my stuff away and brought it downstairs and was talking to BL and one of the house managers when the house manager commented on how crazy it was to have a four show day. We knew about the two shows for the main stage, but a second show in the studio? Swell. So now instead of being 30 minutes from going home, I was 30 minutes from having to re-set-up everything and start all over again. This made me very, very cranky. To make matters worse, because we didn't know in advance, I had to drag my carts through the crowd assembled for the downstairs show and then one of the big head theatre honchos saw me and I'm sure at least BL will get in trouble for this, because it's bad planning or whatever. Oh so cranky. I seriously considered doing a shot of something, but was afraid I'd just fall asleep in my ice bucket. So fine. La-dee-da, second shift, getting food, working the bar, 13 hour day that hit overtime for the week even after I had to take Thursday off on account of my puking.

My improv class is doing a show on Sunday, December 17 at noon. Let me know if you want to attend. Saturday we found out who will be in which things for it. I'm doing the taxi cab character game thing (nothing too thrilling) and the alphabet game. I like the alphabet game. It's a two person scene in which every line has to start with the next letter of the alphabet. Very cerebral. The guy I'm doing it with is very good, too. Now I just have to spend the week reading the dictionary, or at least the X section. Maybe I'll try to have all my conversations in alphabet game format. See if anyone notices. That could be funny, but mostly funny for me in my head. I guess that's 95% of my funny, anyway.

Tomorrow I'm going to my parents' to finish cleaning out my old room so it can be painted Wednesday. I wasn't supposed to work tomorrow night, but Tina's got her root canal follow-up appointment or something, so now I'm a terrible daughter again because I'll have to leave by 3:30 and my mom won't be there until 1:30 so we won't get to spend that much time together.

Just remember, you can't spell MstrOessM without s-t-r-e-s-s.

Like Sands Through the Hourglass...

Blech. So I'm vertical and still feeling off in the stomach but I have my mind back and that is reassuring.

Saturday I saw The Pirate Queen with my family. Same guys who wrote Les Mis go after another revolution of sorts with the Grace O'Malley story. The idea was fabulous: it's a great story with pirates and an excuse to use Irish music and dancing. But while the music never stops, it was neither catchy nor brilliant, and unlike Les Mis, they had a very hard time fitting in what they wanted to without it feeling like the story was crammed and rushed and lacked build-up. In fact, the second act seemed more of a let-down than a culmination or arc. BUT... the production value was incredible. The scenery and the dancing and the voices and the most talented ensemble I've seen possibly ever. My mom kept complaining about things like the staginess of the dancing and other aspects that are inherent in a musical, so I said, "Yeah, and that sonnet was too formulaic." I thought I was ever so clever with that one.

Sunday I only had to work the first show and, despite the "final dress rehearsal" being a stop-and-go mess to which I brought E, everyone said the show was wonderful. I had plans to hang out with NBF after work, but this was my only chance to see it as I'd be working (or at my improv class) every other performance until the run ended. NBF said he'd want to see it if with me if I could get comp tickets, so I told him I'd call him to let him know. I got the tickets and left him a voice mail saying as much. BL forgot that I was going to see the show and roped me in to help her at the bar when it was crazy-crowded with people from the upcoming mainstage production and I'd texted NBF with the message "Call me re:food" because I hadn't had time to eat anything and the show was starting very soon and I'd hoped he would pick something up on his way. When he did call me back I was up to my eyeballs in drink orders so I called him back like 2o minutes later and asked how close he was to showing up. "Um...not" was his response. He apparently never got my voice message and when he saw the text thought we were just going to get food when I was done working. But I had actual physical tickets for us and they get very mad if you don't use your comp tickets and I wanted to see the show so I told him to get to the theater as fast as he could ("I'll pay for a cab! Just get here!") and I escaped the bar as they made the first call for seating and ran to get food and scarfed down said food while waiting for NBF to show up and we missed the first 15-20 minutes but he arrived and the show was wonderful and he was being wonderful and I went from homicidal to happy by the time I got home.

Monday I ran errands and slept and watched TV. A too short but necessary break.

Tuesday I worked a double shift. It was a very long day, though not a bad one as I had my first ever shift by myself in the bar (which didn't go so well but I like it quite a bit better) and then BL and I ran errands for work on the clock and got lunch at SUC's sushi restaurant and BL drove me home at the end of the night. About five minutes before the end of the late show's intermission one of the moms from the school that fired me came up to buy water. She was my favorite mom, always really warm and a great parent, and she adored me, too, constantly telling me as much. Apparently, she never knew I'd been fired. She thought I'd just decided not to come back. I managed to get through the story without crying, but as I told her that people that never met me organized a campaign to email and call in for my removal, she said she wished she'd known because she'd have called in my favor. That got the tears flowing. And of course the more she told me I was wonderful and that they were stupid for getting rid of me the more I cried. She got my phone number to babysit if I'm ever not working (I really liked her kid, too).

The fact that I got so emotional made me realize that there's a big difference between getting past something and getting over it. Just a thought.

Then yesterday I had my second double shift in a row because Tina had a root canal Tuesday and was still dead. I'd set everything up for myself the night before and the morning went fine, though I didn't get a chance to eat anything beyond a nutragrain bar and a bag of Sun Chips until almost 5 PM. My stomach was cranky but there's only junk food within quick break distance of the theater so I ended up eating chicken selects while running around making coffee and setting up the bar for BL whose bus passed her by coming from the King Tut exhibit at the Field Museum. My body started falling apart during the pre-show sales, and you know the rest (or you could know it by reading my last entry).

It is good I keep so much soup in the house.