The Fight For The Right To Phone Sex

So today in class we were trying to make final decisions on what we were all singing as our solo pieces. Most of the others in my class are decided, with a few stragglers here and there. I, of course, was one of those few.

I feel so stupid having to defend a parody song about something as silly as working at a phone sex line. Not to mention I know I will be doing it at an open mic very, very soon. The point of the matter is that I built this song from the lyrical ground up, it is my creation and everyone in the room knows full well that it should be the song I'm doing, hands down. It brought the house down. So when it got to be my turn and people were saying how much they liked my first song, ("I'm The Only One," by Melissa Etheridge,) I had to shake my head. For a moment, I couldn't even speak.

In front of the whole class, I told the instructor that as much as I like the Etheridge and the Alanis, I would have a hard time doing them in good conscience. I feel like I'd be holding grudges against them and I adore both of those songs too much to do that to them. The song I want to do is my parody song and I did not work two weeks on it only to have it be benched due to content.

If the issue of content was going to come up during this class, they should have made it clear at the beginning of the class and not once we were in the thick of it. Also, they might have thought to not show a cabaret performer by the name of Tim Minchin, who is so raunchy that the cleanest of songs they could show us was a song he wrote about an inflatable love doll. They should have lectured on the roots and initial ambitions of cabaret performance in theory only, not in practice. All of these reasons contribute to why my fur is rubbed wrong.

Anyway, it is a very frustrating issue and I will have the verdict by tomorrow I'm told. The teacher is going to discuss it with the education heads tonight and see what they say. All I can do is what I've already done for it. If they decide to turn me down, it's their loss. I do both Etheridge and Alanis brilliantly and I will not tank doing them or something. But at this point, it's about the principle as much as it is passion.

Passion about using the word 'spunk.' I never thought I'd live to see the day.

No Longer Reaching Critical Levels...

So yeah, sorry about that.

Needless to say I was kidnapped to Long Beach by Vamps and I feel much better now. Laid around, slept alot, saw a movie, it was good times. Now, ONTO THE FUN STUFF!

So, my friend Tim is a cankerous whore and did not inform me that he was on the road crew for Jeff Dunham until...oh, about a week until I moved out here. But, as a 'going away/coming to LA' present, he got me into a sold out show of Jeff's out here in LA last weekend. Did I shit bricks? Indeed I did. Fun was had, to say the very, very least.

The thing was so sold out (besides it being Jeff, it was a hometown show for him,) that me and Tara got to sit in the sound booth they had constructed in the middle of the ampitheater with Tim and the light and sound guys. The lighting guy totally had it bad for Tara once she started talking about video games and all in all it was an awesome evening. Not only was Jeff hilarious and I got to see Peanut and Achmed live, but being a cool 'in' person sitting with the crew was kick ass. I was chillin' on a load-box for the whole thing and I was flying on cloud nine.

The opening act was "Guitar Guy," from the Christmas special, aka Brian Haner. That man can tear UP a guitar. He was f-ing awesome. Not only was he funny and can play just about any kind of music, he plays behind his head. And I'm not talking flinging it back there, playing a few chords and swinging it back around, I mean the man took a very deliberate moment to put it behind his head, played almost an entire song like that with the guitar facing us, and then turned back around. I was in awe.

I grabbed a tshirt from the tshirt cannons at the end and gave it to Tara, because the girl is very green to things like this. She was so psyched to see Jeff because she's a huge fan, but was also amazed because she'd never been to a concert before. The more I'm getting to know her the more I am understanding her sheltered, conservative upbringing. Anyway, that was a definite capper to her evening.

The next day I went and met Tim, along with some of his buddies on the tour, and we walked all the way from his hotel on Sunset to the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Odditorium. Needless to say it was a hot day and I was glad I wore my sneakers rather than shoes that would look cute with my outfit. It was so good to see Tim - he's a good guy and I have missed him alot since I stopped doing haunted houses last year. And I knew that if anyone would go to the Ripley's museum with me, it would be Tim, haha.

We kind of lost the others along the way - they were wanting to shop and the mall is killer, I have to say - and so it was just me and him for the museum. There is some CRAZY stuff in there. After beating Tim in a whack-a-mole experiment, we saw wax models of the Emperor of America, an actual vampire hunter kit from the 1800's, a 5-legged calf, an actual shrunken head, a sculpture made of buttons, a full-size portrait of John Wayne made out of lint...it was weird. It was definitely cheesy, although I am sure it was horrific and insane way back when. But I think we got our money's worth and is certainly a good definitive point of Los Angeles. You know when you're in LA when you are walking by a man with 4 pupils.

The roommate sitch is...interesting. Tara definitely is cool to an extent, but I am still pretty certain that if I spent much more time with her than I do I would be ready to strangle her. My proof of this is Wendy - she has all her classes with her since they are both in the Studio Program and Wendy is much more intolerant when she's been spending the nights here, which isn't alot. Her and her boy are new and excited, so every spare moment is spent together. It's cute, I just hope it doesn't hurt her grades. Then again, it's not my grades, so whatever, but she is still a friend and I want her to do well and all, you know? But she is keeping up, even if it is by the skin of her teeth from time to time. And I COMPLETELY understand the need to get away and have real world time.

I'm chillin' out alone tonight in the dorm tonight - both the roomies are off with their SOs - and I am watching "Serenity," trying to figure out what to do next in terms of homework. The presentation for tomorrow is taken care of, my essay is printed out, my anatomy is done and I still need to work on my Improv journal, my Cabaret performance and submissions for the name and finale song of the evening, and memorize my commercial sides. I should sleep, but I'm not seeing that in the cards just yet cuz I'm more or less not tired. This weekend really helped get me back from off the ledge and I'm holding it together, guys. I'm just still trying to fit myself in here.

Miss you all, so so much. Be good, kids!

I Told You It Wouldn't Always Be Pretty

So I need to get some shit off my chest. I think if I itemize it all, you will see how a bunch of tiny little things over the past two weeks have grown into the screeching rage that is inside my head.

• Moving Twice In One Week. Just the stress of it.
• Boxes not getting here until the end of week one.
• The fact that both my roommates have boyfriends who they get to go off and see constantly, while Casey is on the other side of the country. Five hours was bad enough. This straight-out sucks.
• The fact that I miss NY, where people at least acknowledged your presence with a "Fuck You!" instead of blatantly ignoring you, even if you are standing two feet away and in obvious need of help, even if said help would be just opening the door you are squarely standing in front of.
• The fact that LA is truly one giant prostitute, and not the classy kind. This is the kind of prostitute that you feel you got chlamydia from just by being within breathing distance of.
• The fact that there is NO CHINESE ANYWHERE WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE. All that is in walking distance is a good pizza place, a horrible pizza place, a pizza place I have not yet tried, a CVS and a 7-11. There is "ABC Chinese Donut" that sells donuts, chinese food in hot plates with no identification and ice cream, but you see where I am going with this.
• The fact that driving is suicide and I refuse to even think about doing it, but then everything is a 20-30 minute walk.
• The fact that I will probably STILL be a fatass even after walking 20-30 minutes to get anywhere.
• The fact that I spent two weeks working on a parody of "Adelaide's Lament" for my Cabaret Performance class, only to have it be praised on high by everyone and then told I had to change words because people bring their children to these performances. SERIOUSLY? To a CABARET? Cabarets consist of alcohol and dark rooms where either sexual abandon, eclectic music styles or political propaganda is spread. You don't bring Billy and Susie to the fucking thing, I don't care if their older sibling is performing or not. And if the drama showcases can depict an entire rape scene not even two months ago, I think I can do a song void of curse words about phone sex. Sorry for your fucking luck.
• The fact that I have had blisters on my feet every day since coming here. What the fuck.
• The fact that I had nearly HEALED all blisters on my feet until tonight when my one roommate dragged me around all of fucking LA to go to a grocery store because "it would be fun and good for us." So glad you like the great outdoors of smoggy LA, hun, but I am tired. I have been going full blast for two weeks straight now and all I've been wanting for this entire week is one night where I am not dragged around the entire run of LA. So yeah, I put the hammer down when I take my shoes off and have to start hobbling around all over again. I am doing shit all that involves movement after my one class tomorrow, and I'm proud of it.
• The fact that I've been here two weeks but it already feels like four months and I'm running out of time to figure out what the hell I'm going to do after school and what the hell I'm going to do about a job. I haven't even gotten my feet under me yet, I haven't had the chance. I shouldn't be worrying about it as hard as I am, but I can't get it out of my mind.
• The fact that I can't drink in this room. Fuck it all to hell.
• The fact my cursing has gotten worse and I am now fully aware of why everyone is a bitch to everyone here. LA eats your soul.
• The fact that the little bitches that pass for AMDA students here make me want to scream. No wonder our reputation isn't getting any better, they're taking people who do a monologue from Cameron Diaz's "The Holiday" for their classical repetoire class and say their one career goal is to be Reese Witherspoon's best friend. They say that their favorite performers are "Zack and Cody" and the ultimate musical is High School Musical 3. These are 18-19 year-old people. How have you gotten this far in existence in general?
• The smog. I fucking hate the smog. I haven't hacked so much in years. Not to mention my lungs physically hurt for a week after getting here. They don't hurt now. That fact makes me want to cry out of fear.
• The fact that I still want to smoke, even though I have never smoked a day in my life. I need to find something to compensate for the oral fixation that isn't a lollipop.

I'm not going to even get into the whole fact that there are way too many pretty people in this town and everyone is obsessed with everyone else. The fact that I am looked at with disgust on the streets, or worse, pity. I fucking want to scream.

Maybe now that it's out of my system, I can get back down to business. I promise for more upbeat posts in the future. It really isn't as bad as all that, it's just moving pains, homesickness and stress of being back in the AMDA grind getting to me. Once I have a few chill evenings, I should be much better. Night all.

And So It Begins.

Ok, so I know I'm fat.

I'm ok with that. Well, ok in the sense that I'd rather be fat than dead. Which was EXACTLY where I was headed when I left New York all those years ago. Would I like to lose weight? Sure. But solely for the sake of my own personal care. Not. For anyone else.

My biggest beef with what happened today is simply the shallowness of the profession I'm in. I'm not upset with the teacher, nor with myself, nor with any one particular person. I'm just pissed at the state of things in general and the state they have always been in.

Today in TV genre, I got a packet of commercial sides, (aka scripts,) and I knew which one I was going to be asked to do. The one for the character actress, the weird, wacky, non-sexual part. It was the one I wanted, to be honest. We weren't dealing with Shakespeare here and it was the most appealing to my sense of humor. But as soon as the teacher began to break them down and he said that this side was perfect for "Women of a Different Size," I knew that I'd be rubbed the wrong way.

And I was. As soon as he got to me, where everyone got 2 or 3 different sides, I only got the weird one. I would "Knock it out of the park." Would I? Of course I would. The woman who I'd be playing is borderline psychopathic. But do I really have to be pigeonholed like that? Seriously?

The sad thing is yes. But I didn't get typed for a whole week, so I guess that's a plus.

Long Time No See

*head falls on keyboard*
*groans*
*rubs feet*
*rubs her EVERYTHING*

So hi there, haha. It's been awhile.

Let's start with a brief overview of my week since I talked to you. Three key points occurred - I had all my classes, I moved and I went out to Hollywood Blvd. I started this entry 3 days ago and it is now Sunday. That's how busy I have been. Now, onto regaling you...

The thing that probably caught your eye most was the moving bit. Yes, I did move, to the nicer dorm from the video this time. The room itself is a little bit smaller than the one I had the Vine, but here everyone has a bed on the ground instead of six feet off the ground with no guardrail, there is a walk-in closet, a basin sink and a full kitchen. I'm talking dishwasher, oven, stovetop, all brand new. There's also a gorgeous wall of exposed brick with a nice view in the daytime from the lovely new windows. We're all digging it, even if it did take a day and a half in the middle of the first week of the school to do it.

Yes, I said we - Tara, the third roommate is still in the mix. But she has definitely been proving herself to be a cool chick now that the mania of the first weekend has blown over. She actually has a sense of humor that is very complimentary to me and Wendy's and enjoys alot of the same movies and music we do. The chick talks about Dresden Dolls, Rilo Kliey and Regina Spektor with knowledge behind it - this might work. I think the drinking thing is more just a matter of time than anything else. We even had a drink together the other night (away from the dorm,) but that's another story for another blog.

Anyway, we have moved in and like it much more here.

For my classes, I am going to try to just categorize:

TV Genre: This class should be one of the most interesting, because I know close to zero about acting on camera. There is a shift of focus you need to do, tone down both the body and facial reaction, etc. By the end of the class, though, we will have a recording for our reel. The teacher is very gay and very cool, but I think will definitely be a tough grader. It is solely out of the desire to have us be as calm and collected in the TV world as we can be and we can walk onto a set like we've done it a thousand times, which is an extremely relevant tool if you are going to try and do a damn thing in LA. If you get cast and come in not knowing what you're doing, you can kiss it. They have ten other people sitting by the phone waiting.

We're gonna be doing commercials, drama series and sitcom sides. Woot! And for our final, we can bring in our own concepts to him to film. Tara has an AWESOME idea for a female vigilante/serial killer, kind of a female Dexter, and I have two ideas. One is a concept for a YouTube viral vid kind of a show, which we discussed as being a strange new venue of self-marketing, and the other would be a TV show. More to come on that stuff.

Cabaret/Broadway: The main course of my semester. I have it 3 times a week. My teacher is...she is definitely wacky, haha. She's done a little of everything in her career though and definitely has a passion for the cabaret genre, which I love about her. I was worried we'd have a teacher who would be offering it to us as something to do while you're looking for work, or a fallback thing. Both of these avenues are extremely viable, but cabaret can be oh so much more than that and I seriously adore the concept. It's so freeing to be able to just get up there and sing the song YOU want to sing, however YOU want to sing it, regardless of type, gender, whatever. The final is going to be an actual cabaret show performed in the school cafe, so that is awesome!

We all had to do this standard they gave us called "What'll I Do," which some of you may know if you heard it. We could do anything with it melodically, change the lyrics, use a gimmick, whatever we wanted. She just wanted us to make a 'bold choice.' I was coming up with some weird things, like singing to a person on the ground I just killed, being a cutter (it's a little bit of a melancholy song,) but Wendy gave me something that I wouldn't feel too insane to do. Or at least insane in a quasi-healthy way, at least. I did it as a crazy "Twilight" fan.

For those of you who don't know, I can't stand Twilight. I won't go into it here, but Tara had the book, I had some black eyeliner and the next day I walked into class with the book swaddled in a blanket like a child with crazy goth swirls and crow designs on my face. I pulled that book out and everyone lost their minds laughing. I still owe Wendy Pinkberry for that one.

The night before that class was the night I knew that Wendy, Tara and I were already on our way to being great friends. I was so terrified about performing in the cabaret class. The biggest bout of nerves I was facing was the fact that I haven't sang in a class setting (aka up for critique,) in six years. I didn't want to go up there in the WORST way the next day. But Tara and Wendy rooted me on all night. They even sang a song acapella for me more than a little badly just to give me the guts to sing my song for them. As they were singing, stumbling through "I'd Give It All For You" with all of us laughing, I knew we were already closer than I any of us knew.

Anyway, my song went over gangbusters and I sang "I'm The Only One," by Melissa Etheridge as my first song to be considered for our cabaret at the end of the semester. I really want to get a private voice coach for the next semester, cuz I'm easily slipping into the comfortable "Belt For Jesus and If It's Too Loud You're Too Old," range of my voice, which feels weird compared to the other people in the class. The other song I'm working on is a parady of "Adelaide's Lament," from Guys and Dolls, about phone sex. I think that one will bring the house down if I do it right.

Improvisation: The chick who teaches this class and totally reminds me of me when I'm being my weirdest. She had us play a lot of interesting games, too, because it's only the five BFA musical alums in the class, so we have a lot of time to explore and move quickly in the curriculum. The final for this one is an actual improv performance in the theater. AHHH! I've gotten better at improv over the years but that is still a nerve-wracking thought. Anyway, we did a few exercises and I have to keep a journal of my observations and etc in that one. I have yet to start that *awkward whistle*

Greco/Roman Theatre: Oh, my, GOD. What CAN'T I say about this class. A) My teacher seems like a hard-nosed bitch but in the nicest, coolest way she could be, B) The content of this class is KICK-ASS, just as I knew it would be, and C) I am ready to kill nearly every child (yes, child,) in this class. The five BFA alums I am with in improv are in this one too, along with 25 or so 2nd semesters. They are loud, obnoxious, and seriously look/sound/act like they are 3. I was their age when I was a 2nd semester and let me tell you, if this is how the LA kids are allowed to act? LA has it EASY. All of these children would have been booted within the first week for behaving the way they were behaving. The 5 of us from NY were horrified at their lack of maturity or even lack of intelligence or focus.

Trust me, when you get up in front of the class and announce with all seriousness that your sole career goal is to be Reese Witherspoon's best friend or your favorite performers are Zack and Cody, you have problems.

Needless to say, by the end of the class the five of us were huddled in the back with one other kid in the 2nd semester class who had a brain in their head ready to cry, scream or kill. A few of us I think were ready to do all of the above. Sergine, a 36-year-old professional actress from Montreal who returned to AMDA for one semester to absorb a little before she went off on her first big directing venture, and she was seriously about to shoot through the roof. These kids will be lucky if the 5 of us don't lay smack downs on them all.

Ok, class rambling done! Onto my first big adventure in LA - going to Hollywood Blvd. I have discovered that Hollywood Blvd is the Times Square of LA. There is a mall, the big theaters, Graumann's Chinese, The Kodak, all sorts of stuff. Anyway, Wendy needed to get something slutty and hardcore to wear to her boyfriend's DJ gig on Saturday and I had nothing better to do. So away we went on what we thought would be an hour tops trip to Hollywood Blvd.

Three hours later, we arrived home.

We finally found something awesome for her to wear when the store we were in was closing (think Sgt Pepper meets Marilyn Manson,) and went to go home. Lots of time, not even 9pm yet. We had gone to Sephora and I had left with only two items, one being a lip balm and both being actual things I required, and figured we'd get food and head home.

First thing, everything was closed. At 9pm. On a Thursday in Hollywood, California. Excuse me? The streets are still teeming with people, what the crap is up with that? We didn't find anywhere to eat until we were nearly home an hour later. Yes, an hour later. Cuz for a good portion of our adventure home, we walked in the wrong direction.

Anyway, we got home and all was well.

*pantspantspants* I have so much more to tell you about - My friend Tim coming into town with Jeff Dunahm, my adventure to Santa Monica Blvd, the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Odditorium, but I am spent for now. That stuff IS coming though, I promise. Along with pics of my goth makeup as per request, pics of the old and new apartments and all that good stuff. But now, I must go compose lyrics about men whacking their bank accounts away.

Stay safe all!

First Day Down!

Tonight is the first night that the internet has gone down. I went out for dinner with a friend of mine assuming it would be up before I came back, but no luck. So now, I am writing my memoir here on Notepad, nursing my poor blistered feet and nearly chomping at the bit to tell you about my day.

In all honestness, the classes themselves were not all that thrilling. I had Kinetic Anatomy and English Composition today, both I'm pretty well versed in already. Both the teachers are actors by trade, one has been teaching in college for decades and they're both a lot of fun so far. The anatomy teacher, Tim, is a bit of a hottie. He's a hottie in a strange way, though - he reminds me of Ryan Stiles, which takes about 50 points off his overall total. But he is a stuntman and martial artist and you can tell he has the kind of muscles that make him look lanky but really could probably end up killing any person within 50 feet. He's very chill and relaxed, and the anatomy isn't nearly as strenuous it seems. We're using a book I had for Massage Therapy, though - The Anatomy Coloring Book. I kid you not. It is a book thicker than some texts I've had to buy filled with intricately detailed pictures you have to color by the numbers. It's something used by many, many colleges because it helps you categorize and memorize the concepts and terms in your head. Today we did the planes of the body - I can't wait to break out the colored pencils!

The English Comp teacher is the one who has been teaching for awhile. He actually got his Master's from Yale in acting, so when he puts his mind to it he much be one sick performer. But as he is now, he is a funny little weirdo of a guy. His jokes are lame, a slight bit on the side of being off-color, and he winks a whole crap of a lot. But he seems to be determined to make the dry material we are going into as fun as possible and I cannot thank him enough for it. We started with a Grammar Diagnostic Test that we did in groups and then moved onto interviewing a person in the class via a set of questions we were given. Whoever did the best (which came up in a 3/3-way tie, how crazy!) got cookies, and then he hearkened the basic framework of an essay to preparing for a performance. The writer is the actor, a paragraph is a scene, etc. I thought that was a cute little thing.

Once we were done with the interviews he informed us that the answers were now officially the outline for our first essay. We pick a topic that our partner answered, do a real simple 5 paragraph essay on it and that would be it. I had interviewed a boy named Anton. He's 18 and in his first semester. We have about 3 of those mingled with us in the English Comp class. I'm not sure what I'm going to choose, because he gave me alot, but I am so glad that the worst is over. I hate dealing with topics for a college english class.

Now, for the big news. I have found God, my friends. I have found him. Yes, after all these years, all my questions of faith have been answered. Yes, indeed Jesus Christ showed himself to me today and I bowed before him.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have discovered Pinkberry.

I can't even express to you how good it was - I got the original flavored soft-serve which is lightly tart, like lemon, with fresh pomegranate, carob chips and granola. I about DIED on the first nibble. It was just...wow. Haha.

Wendy got the Green Tea flavored with fresh kiwi and these chewy Japanese rice cubes in it. They were so sweet and so perfect and UNGHHHHHH. So good. All must come to know Pinkberry. You will be home, my brothers and sisters. I am preaching the word of the lord to you. Pinkberry will indeed save your soul.

I also went out to dinner with Scott tonight. Scott is my voice teacher from out in NY who now teaches in LA at AMDA. To say that is weird is an understatement, because the boy had no real care or ties to the place in NY, nor did I meet him until years after AMDA. But he actually has helped create a class here in the BFA program for Musical Theatre and I am so excited to see him again. We went out and it was seriously just like old times, save for the utter LACK of him checking his hair in any available reflective service, lol.

He took me to an awesome place called "The Waffle," which is exactly what you think. It is LA's answer to Waffle House. It has a wine list, baked mac and cheese and yes indeed, waffles. But not only can you get a standard waffle, there is also a Jalpeno one, an Applewood Smoked Bacon one, even a Gluten-Free one (can you believe it, Tonya?) There is even waffles for your dog - called "Woofles." It was insane and oh so funny for me, I never wanted to leave the swankness that was The Waffle.

We then finished out the evening getting dessert at the Real deal and king of late-night food, Denny's. I was way too excited to go, let me tell you. To say I missed Denny's is to say that Pinkberry is not indeed the second coming. So tonight I did indeed hit Waffle House and Denny's in one night.

Tomorrow is TV Genre and Cabaret/Broadway, so that should be fun. Considering the time, I should get to bed, but I wanted to make sure I told you all there stories before I forgot. Have a good night's sleep all!

This Is It...

In less than 12 hours I will be in my first class as a BFA student at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. Crazy!

Here is my schedule:

MONDAY: Kinetic Anatomy, English Composition

TUESDAY: TV Genre, Cabaret/Broadway

WEDNESDAY: Cabaret/Broadway, Improvisation 5

THURSDAY: Kinetic Anatomy, Cabaret/Broadway

FRIDAY: Greco Roman Theatre

I am once again trying not to freak about money - I have been making so many last-minute trips to this store or that store for things I need that I feel like I need a Xanax before I look at my account. Not thinking about it, not thinking about it...

I took some Excedrin PM tonight to make sure I sleep. Obviously it hasn't kicked in yet. I feel like I'm typing a mile a minute and my brain is going even faster than that. *prays prays prays for sleeeeeeeep*

So today me, Wendy (the first roommate,) and Tara (the second roommate,) went and did some shopping. I am concerned about how Tara is going to fit in with me and Wendy. You see, me and Wendy have spent the better part of two days chillin, sharing music and actually being borderline laconic. We are both just very low-key with weird senses of humor and we enjoy the strange things in life. Her current boyfriend came by wearing a kilt, red and black striped tights, a camo shirt and big gothgod boots yesterday. I get these people.

Tara, on the other hand, is not only five years younger than us, but she is extremely frenetic in terms of energy. She's been buzzing in and out, near to panting as she spins about the room, before she runs back out the door again. Neither of us understand why she is moving in here when she is currently living about 5 minutes away (if that) on Hollywood and Highland, and she has a boyfriend who is begging her to stay there with him. She is a serious name-dropper, a pretty heinous sin, and feels the need to tell us who exactly in Hollywood is a jerk/ass and who is not.

The deal breaker was earlier today when we were picking up a few absolute needs for food and I was perusing the wine. Me and Wendy had been thinking about having a little bit of a housewarming dinner tonight, a cool night with maybe a movie and a nice bottle of wine with dinner. At orientation today the head of the housing department informed us we could not have any drugs or alcohol in our dorms, but even this man said "that being said, if you have a party in your dorm, and we don't know about it, then we can't do anything about it." Translated - "I know you guys are adults and will have parties or some sort of alcohol on campus. Just make sure you don't get caught."

Because seriously, what college do you know of where drinking did Not happen in the dorms? Usually the RAs are the ones dealing the pot and buying the alcohol for the underage.

As I mention it to Tara, she freaks. "You can't do that! They told us not to!" I was dumbfounded. This girl just finished the Musical Theatre program in NY last year. She lived in the Strat, which was the main dorm and teemed with coke, pot and entire floor parties. Was she high? Oh, wait, she certainly wasn't. Because the housing department had told her she couldn't be.

I let it drop for the moment because her reaction was just That violent that I was too surprised to do anything else. I warned Wendy, but she tried anyway and the exact same thing happened.

Here is my beef - I am 26 years old. I am a fully grown adult. If I wish to have a glass of wine at dinner, a shot of tequila or to get absolutely thrashed at the school and residence I am paying for, it is my prerogative. I am in college. It is what people do. I am not an alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination but I do enjoy a drink from time to time and I believe I have the right to have an effin drink if I want one. Wendy feels the same.

This girl is not a child and needs to use her head and relax.

That incident, combined with the rest of the day, made both me and Wendy shellshocked by the time she vanished again. She was a little more relaxed and less hyper when she returned tonight, but we shall see how this flies.

Sadly I have no exciting stories to tell you today. But soon I should - I don't seem to wont for interesting situations around here. Tomorrow the plan is to try Pinkberry for the first time between our classes and I'm pretty psyched about that since everyone raves about it. Hopefully my boxes will be here by tomorrow too, and I will finally have my mattress pad, my power strips, all that good stuff.

Well, I guess I have rambled on long enough. Pills still haven't kicked in but sleep must come. Maybe if I lay down and try to relax my breathing I'll get there. Sleep well all!

A Man Humping A Parking Meter? Go On...

Man.

Do I have stories for you guys.

LA is definitely a...let's say 'colorful' town. In all honesty, it has this unashamed gaudiness that makes it charming, like how a guy who is clearly hitting on you can make you grin and laugh anyway. One block to the next literally can go from swank to the point of gagging to decrepit, and the world seems to whiz by at a strangely laid back pace. I really don't know what to make of it yet.

Anyway, today was move-in day. I got my key early and claimed the bottom bunk, because the other two are top ones. When I got here this morning, I saw Wendy had claimed the top one that had the couch under it, which left the new roommate that appeared in our text messages yesterday, with the one over me. Pictures will follow soon.

My boxes didn't come today because I guess FedEx and UPS doesn't deliver here on weekends. Nice to know. That left me with no sheets, pillows, hangers, towels, etc. What does this mean? And adventure to Bed Bath and Beyond, of course! It's the only thing that sells stuff like that in walking distance. I now am furnished with the amenities, along with a cute set of storage cube/ottoman things to serve as my nightstand. Pet was worried I was going to be attacked by a man with a chimp (she actually said 'a shiv' but that is SO not what I heard,) but I managed to get there and back unscathed.

AMDA wasn't joking about being right where the Hollywood Walk of Fame starts, either. You cross the street at the Vine intersection and there it is, big as life. I read them off as I walked to the store and it's so cool to me that they have people like Johnny Depp next to Stepin Fetchit. I walked besides the stars too instead of on them, because...I don't know, it just seemed weird. The two that made we stop were Cyd Cherise and George Carlin.

So far I have seen the outsides of Graumann's Chinese Theater, the Kodak Theater, The Hollywood Bowl and the Pantages Theater. I'll be returning to those and the Walk of Fame to do touristy squee-erificness with a camera soon.

After my adventures in towel-buying, I got some chinese from a little chinese food/donut shop for dinner (yes, I said that, let it sink in...) and headed on home. This is when I saw "The Man."

I will call him "The Man" solely because it amuses me. The Man, if you were wondering, was across the street from the chinese place, in the middle of the block...humping a parking meter. And trying to be inconspicuous about it.

When he thought no one was looking (because who would look at a dude in the middle of the sidewalk humping a parking meter?) He looked like he was either trying to bang the shit out of his skull on the thing or rip the whole meter out of the ground on crotch power alone. But as soon as he thought someone was looking, he'd promptly stop and act as if he was just hugging the parking meter in a death grip, as if it was going to float away at any second. It was...special.

As for last night, I hung out with a friend of a friend who is getting her Masters in Film at UCLA and got a little drunk before some Wii fun. Drunken Wii FTW!!! I sucked mostly, but that's ok. I would have probably sucked sober, too.

So tonight I am all alone - enjoying this big dorm all to myself while my roomies are off with their boyfriends' apartments. Does it make me miss Casey like all hell? God yes. *bangs head on the walll* GOD yes. Seeing them with their boys and the unsteady feeling of going to a whole new state makes me want nothing more than Casey here to curl up with and make me forget I'm thousands of miles away from all I know on a lil twin bed.

*sigh* I'm run down and getting sleepy, and I have orientation in the morning. I better get to bed. The nervous are FLYIN' yall, haha. *breathes* Tomorrow I get my schedule and I might try calling my friend/ex-vocal coach/current faculty member Scott to see if he wants to meet up and do something. I kind of need to talk to him - he's always got a no nonsense view of things and does Not sugarcoat things. He doesn't believe in it. But he'll be able to talk me off of any upcoming ledges and if he didn't think it was a good idea for me to be doing this, he would have told me to stay at home.

It's just the more sparkingly beautiful people I see and the more I hear about all the professional, real world experience people have under their belts here, it makes me more and more uneasy.

Well, emo aside, I hope you are all having a good weekend and like I said, I will post pictures soon. May you all sleep well tonight, with visions of meter-humpers dancing through your head.

5.0

Here I am! Officially a habitant of the City of Angels. And boy, so much has happened, and it's not even my first whole day!

The whole trip went off without a hitch - I flew into Atlanta, caught up on all the awesome messages you guys sent me, then set off for Los Angeles. The flight there was wonderful. Not one baby cried, I had a great lunch, and the plane was decked out with stuff to do. You have to pay for most of it, of course, but I was impressed all the same.

There was complimentary cable television, so I caught some Daily Show and Colbert Report as well as cruising A&E, Food Network and the 12 music channels they supplied. There was even HBO! No True Blood though, but enough Big Love and The Wire to choke a person. There was even games to play, the only free one being a trivia game you played with other passengers on the plane. That was hard, but funnnn. Nothing like beating the pants off people and taking note of their seat on the screen to make sure they can't give you the evil eye.

They offered movies to watch too which I was tempted to do since it was a 5 hour flight, but I refuse to pay 6 bucks to watch either something I have no desire to see or something I already seen and/or own. But dude. They had Tropic Thunder. It was difficult to pass up my boy RDJ rockin' it like it ain't nothin' but a thang.

The crew was awesome and even made some pretty funny jokes on that flight and besides the nosy, squirmy, worrywort of a woman I sat next to it couldn't have been better.

Actually, I am now remembering a few things that went awry - one of my bags was 6 pounds overweight so rather than paying 90 bucks (yes, 90 bucks for 6 pounds,) I pulled out my tote I brought for just an emergency. But I already had the max of carryons, so I stuffed my backpack with my purse in it into the thing as well. As I tried to stuff it all in I succeeded in bending my nail back under the quick, which is still covered in a bloody bandage and hurts like hell. I then spent the rest of the day sweating and lugging this overly huge bag around while having to avoid anything that involved my left index finger. That encompasses WAY more than you think.

After going 3 times through the security x-rays due to my laptop and bag, I was the last one on the plane in Columbus and had to watch as people putzed and dawdled, holding up the dozen of us who still needed to stow and get seated. Why it pushed my patience was because a soldier in front of my with a broken leg was crutchless and having to stand there on one leg and balancing while these idiots stared and blinked at the overhead compartments like a monkey doing a math problem. The guy just wants to sit down and go home to NC. Put your bag down and sit your ass in the seat, already. His foot looked like Frankenstein's foot. I was aching for him.

Anyway, that was the trip. All in all good, wouldn't you say? When I got off the plane the sky was overcast and a little chilly, but just about perfect for me. Kind of like fall. The air smelled like water, clean, which is SO weird considering this is LA, and I will officially state for the record that LA smells 100 times better than NY on a good day. My friend Alex picked me up and we set out to try and get me to AMDA to try and drop off the bulk of my stuff, but after 3 hours in LA traffic and missing exits we said fuck it and headed for her place. She lives near LA in Long Beach, and her apartment is adorable, as is her boyfriend. It was a nice, quiet evening filled with searches for chinese deliverymen and the knowledge that the ocean is 10 minutes away from me.

Except for the earthquake.

Yeah, you heard me, the earthquake. In the middle of dinner there was a BOOM!, followed by the apartment feeling like it jumped over a few feet and Alex's cockatoo busting out of her cage in fear. I had NO idea what had happened and must have looked the perfect sight of shock, confusion and amusement. Jim looked at me, picked up the bird and smiled.

"Congratulations, that was your first earthquake. Welcome to LA."

It never occured to me I'd be feeling earthquakes. I've had so much on my mind just getting here that it completely slipped my mind that the state is more or less a fault line. My adrenaline took a long time to subside, let me tell you. But it was extremely thrilling, at least since no one got hurt.

I guess the highest it went was a 5.0 in San Bernadino, which I guess is decently far away. No one was hurt. The news was all over it though, zooming in on a tipped over salsa bottle in a grocery store and a fallen can of Pringles. Alex assures me this is a relatively rare occurence, so I guess it was just LA welcoming me to it's playground.

I'm now stretched out on a particularly comfy hide-a-bed, half-dead but amazingly very conscious. Alex and her boy are in bed and their cats are checking me out with caution. It's not much different from life in Ohio today. Tomorrow we're meeting up with a friend of Alex's we call Xee, (cuz her name is Alex too,) and mayhaps indulge in a bit of drunken Wii.

I've cried and missed you all before I even left the ground in Ohio, and please don't hesitate to call. I will be keeping up as best I can. Life is nowhere near close to slowing down, but I am thinking of every single one of you and hope to talk to you soon.

Love and Blessings, all. Viva Los Angeles!!!

Counting Down...

So I'm all packed up, more or less - I've gotten my room pretty much squared away save for vacuuming and maybe a little dusting...and I'm sitting here with my thoughts. Never a good thing.

I cried for my first time tonight since Alice's strike tonight. I'm going to miss my parents alot, but besides that I'm going to miss the familiarity that comes with this apartment and the glory and wonder that is Columbus, Ohio. Am I going anywhere here? No. Am I getting anything done here besides adding to my waistline? Not really. But it's home, it's always been home and as much as it can make me insane here, I will miss it. And I know, I know, it isn't forever, but it's still hard to think that in 48 hours, I won't be living here anymore.

Anyway, let's get off that emo bit I had to lance (thanks T-Dawg for putting that phrase in my head at dinner tonight, haha) let's talk about updates. It seems I am not moving into that killer dorm I posted a vid of the other day:( The woe is endless. Especially because I am now in the Vine dorms, which I hear is "......ok." Considering the people who say this also said that "they have cable, which is nice I guess," I think it isn't as horrific as they are saying. In fact, me and my roommate were talking yesterday and it seems that the LA kids have got it nice all over.

I found a pic of what perhaps might be the Vine rooms, since they say the rooms are smaller and much more like "dorm life." All the caption on the picture said was "Inside Campus Housing," so I don't know what you're looking at here. But here it is...



I lovvvvve the curtains - I don't know if they are permanent or added by the people living there, but the rods bolted into the ceiling make them seem kind of official. And like I said before, if this is what I have to look forward to, sign me up.

I also have a new roommate. As I have said on here before, at the Franklin dorms I was going to be with two girls, both of whom looked to be about 20 and from different countries. I was worried that we wouldn't get along because they would be so much younger than me and what not, etc., etc. That also made me worry about my classes - if I am in a class of 6 people, with at least 2 of them being in their late teens/early twenties, what are the chances of the other 3 being even close to my age? The anxiety mounts...

Anyway, with the new dorms comes a new roommate. Her name is Wendy and she is 25, went to AMDA NY the first time around and is going for the BFA acting program in LA rather than the Musical Theatre. She did Musical Theatre in NY and wants to focus more on the classical and stage combat for the rest of it. She is an Eddie Izzard fan, worked at Torrid once upon a time and listens to The Dresden Dolls, Kidneythieves and 30 Seconds To Mars. This chick looks promising. I talked to her yesterday for about 30 minutes or so and besides the awkward air of "I don't know you from Adam," I think we got along great. She was worried about the age thing as well, not to mention having a younger roommate. She also lived in the Strat in NY, if that means anything to anyone reading this blog, so needless to say we bonded over rooms that barely fit a bed and roaches along with our moment of understanding over the eternally gorgeous Jared Leto.

I guess I got moved because of some mixups and such - one of the girls was in her last semster of the BFA program so not only would she be gone soon, but would be doing most of her work at night, and there was a 3rd girl who originally wasn't going to return that decided to come back. I am totally ok with the change, and I really, REALLY hope me and Wendy mesh.

Oh, and she will have her car there! Score.

Anyway, how am I feeling tonight about the move? Overall I'm feeling very good. Tonight as I was packing my carryon I discovered a pen at the bottom - a pen from the Hotel Beacon, the hotel me and my parents stayed in when I first arrived in NY for AMDA. I have used this backpack for years, and somehow this pen has gone completely unnoticed for 8 and a half years at the bottom of it. Through moving and tours, through classes and vacations, this thing has somehow travelled with me completely unnoticed, but always there. It looks like I picked it up yesterday.

How it has remained hidden this long I'll never know. I've washed this backpack many times and cleaned it out completely more than a few, but I am not worrying too much over it. I'm taking this as a sign, a good one, one of support and progress. A reminder to not forget the past, but to carry it with me and take what I need from it, not to dwell on it. A little token to remind me I am not alone, I'm not new to the world, and that I have gotten this far.

The pen is sitting by me now. And I am going to take Graham's advice - I'm going to save the first pen I come across once I reach LA. Or at least pick it up - whether it stays with me on my journey is the universe's decision.