Puppies

I can’t sleep.

I think that’s partly because I’ve had some caffeine later in the evening– aka a large black coffee during rehearsal (so, what?) and kahlua after the SA meeting (again, what’s your point?). 

I also think it’s partly because my brain won’t turn off.

Last night I had a number of very strange nightmarish dreams that ultimately resulted in a restlessness and an urge to wake up but no real motivation to remove myself from bed. The dream I had closest to waking was my most vivid, and it involved puppies.

I was on this trip with my family. My parents and sister were both there– at some point I think Michelle may have left– and Mark and Karen were with us. Mark and Karen, for some reason, were both wearing white, and Mom, Dad and I all had our dogs. Molley was there, as a puppy, which is still hard for me to think about, really, and Grizz was there and little. I’m pretty sure Dad was keeping track of TJ the Beagle (who is, in fact, still a puppy). I don’t know what I would have done if Potter had put in an appearance. I probably just would have started sobbing mid-dream and that would have been that.  

But anyway, we were on this journey and it mostly consisted of walking. Michelle was really, really tired; we all became that tired by some point. The puppies were breathing heavily and their feet were bleeding. I feel as though we passed my house at least twice but no one but me seemed to see that it was there; “This is the wrong house,” they kept saying. So, onward ho. 

At one point, Molley seemed to turn to me; I knelt by her, and I was so, so sad. Sad that she was in pain when all I wanted to do was get her away from the commotion of the world and back home and nourished, and incredibly sad that in real life, she’s no longer with us. In this dream she was just a sprightly young thing, however, so she turned to me and looked at me with puppy eyes, deep chocolate brown and so like Potter’s– and reassured me. There was something about that point in the dream that was just wrenching– it was as if she was telling me, Look, this sucks, and you’re right, I’m not doing so well. But it is going to end and you will wake up and I will no longer be suffering– and neither will you, if you keep on going. 

I’m taking that to be true. It has to be, somehow. I’ve spent a while lately thinking about what’s important right now and how I can prioritize some of the things I have to get through in the next few weeks (months, years). It’s another layer of stress that melts away when I can get myself in the mindset of, “It will be over eventually, and then you can breathe again…”

I have also been trying to keep myself in a lighter frame of mind. It’s all too easy for me to forget how to play, and I had such a good time this summer learning and studying my craft in a playful way, an easy, this-is-fun-and-wonderful kind of way. Interestingly enough, the Dream Moods dictionary cites dreaming about puppies as either a symbolization of my own playful and carefree nature, or a blossoming friendship. To care for a puppy symbolizes a dependability that others can rely on. 

I’m going to take those things as a positive sign. I’m also going to go to sleep now, as I have an early (ish) morning tomorrow and would dearly like to be up in time to get to it… Thankfully I’m tired now and won’t have much trouble getting to sleep, provided I can stop thinking long enough to drift off. Gute Nacht!Image

Miss you, sweet Molley Grace!

Typing this with my eyes closed….

I am so tired right now. My eyes are bleary, my head is fogged, I’m a little disoriented and I’m a smidgeon loopy. Not from drinking, though. I’ve never been too tired to drink before, so tonight was really interesting. As this four o’ clock am hits, I’ll have been working/thinking/active for eighteen hours straight. What the hell?

Tonight we had Boo Blast: the Eastman Halloween party. It was at the Radisson (a new location for us) and around 300 people were expected to attend. It was nice, but exhausting. (I was Little Dead Riding Hood, for anyone who may have wondered.)

I also lost my Dakota bracelet there. My bag was partially open for some of the time, and I think it might have gotten knocked over and some of my things tipped out. But then again, I’m really freaking tired, so maybe even though I looked in every pocket of that bag, and all around my room, that it fell out somewhere unusual, or maybe I found it and placed it somewhere I forget about now.

I’m even too tired to feel like shit for it, even though I will (and do, mentally). I’m such an irresponsible ass.

ANYWAY I should go before the seriously atrocious grammar and punctuation (whatever) get the better of me. Guten Wochenende…….

Forecast

I took a nap today.

That’s new territory for me this semester. Generally I’m not tired enough to let myself nap, and generally the “chilling out” time I give myself is enough to recharge. Also, I tend to feel like shit after I wake up from naps… so I try not to take them. But today I was really tired and already lounging around in my room, and it was kind of an accident.

I woke up and I felt, to my great surprise, pretty good. I made myself dinner and made some German flashcards and IPAed some new things (all while watching The Mentalist, but don’t judge). I then skyped with my favorite Marine since he heads out to combat training tomorrow, which is where he’ll be at for a month.

I guess the entire point there was that I took a nap today, so I’m not really sleepy… but since writing that sentence originally I’ve changed my mind a little. It is almost two o’clock after all… Nap or no nap it’s likely I’ll have issues dragging myself out of bed tomorrow morning. Or, this morning. Whatever.

That said, I’m going to go put away the laptop, open my window a crack (it’s stuffy in here) and curl up in bed. Only three classes tomorrow, though, so that will make life a little more cheerful, and maybe I’ll grab myself a Java’s sandwich after Diction. Happy possibilities, even though it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

Anyway, I’m done rambling… gute Nacht!

Let’s see if I can write a blog in five minutes

It’s 11:25. I would really like some sleep but as usual I’ve got a couple of things clogging my mind.

01. Homework. It’s basically eating me alive and although I’ve gotten better at handling the workload, I feel like every day there is more to do, and every day it’s monumentally harder. One day I will be trying to breathe beneath a sea of dictations, listening modules and piano audits… and I might just stop swimming, and plummet to the bottom of the theoretical ocean. That’s what it feels like.

02. Friends. Sometimes I feel so, so blessed to know the amazing people I do. This is what I have to tell myself when they piss me off… or when I feel as though I’m not worthy of them.

03. Home. I keep having beautiful daydreams of being home. There’s a spicy pumpkin scent to the crisp fall air there and the leaves are already Halloween shades. Hot cider is on the stove and I have a pile of books to read and nothing else to do but laundry and the dishes. And most importantly, my mind is relaxed and my family is there. That is what I daydream about. Only two and a half more weeks until I’m home again.

04. Love. Is it possible to love someone but not be in love with them? I don’t know.

But my time is up. Five minute blog down. Gute nacht, it’s past my bedtime.

I should go to sleep

Well, I should.

I feel like everything I post nowadays is really boring, or about how busy I am or how I’m feeling.

I wonder what it would be like to not talk about myself for once? But I suppose that my most knowledgeable subject so it’s easiest to discuss.

It has been sunny lately (default: weather). This is great. Vitamins, minerals, natural light/natural warmth.

Okay forget this, I can’t even pretend to want to talk about anything else. I love sunshine. It makes me happy. Therefore the weather today was even correlated directly with my feelings. It’s not as if those feelings are any more relevant than yours, say, or my next door neighbor’s, but they’re what I know. So I’m going to discuss it, all right?!

And now I’m arguing with myself. Title=case in point right now. Entirely pointless, self-centered two minute post finished. Gute nacht.

Perfection (a reflection)

To be honest, I never usually have so many ideas I can articulate in one day. Occasionally they’ll hit me, quickly and suddenly, and I’ll have to get them down somewhere, somehow immediately or lose them forever. Others drift as remnants, half-formed and vague, until later. Or until never.

But today is just a good day for thinking and writing, I guess. It’s also strange that I’m blogging now because generally by 11:06 pm on any given evening (weekends excepted) I am either sleeping or wishing to God I was sleeping, so hey. This is cool.*

But back to my stream of consciousness at the moment, why don’t we?

I think a lot about perfection.

We all try to be perfect. We all want the 100 on our theory homework or the A in ed psych. Obviously we all want to perfect our skills, especially at Eastman (like, DUH, hello). And there are other ways in which people strive to perfect themselves: religiously/spiritually, physically, emotionally. Still others strive to behave perfectly or respond perfectly in social situations, perfecting their image.

I have tried to perfect myself in all of these ways. Possibly more, I guess. But over the course of the past few years, and especially here, I have put myself at a level with other, more “normal” human beings– and by that, I mean the kids who don’t try as hard, or the kids who aren’t at an advantage socioeconomically, or even the adult working class. I think working at Tim Horton’s all summer and this winter break reinforced my relationship and tie to the everyday average person. And while I refuse to lower my sights or adjust my previously-set goals, it’s humbling and enlightening at the same time to have a glimpse into the real world. It was also a learning experience– an incredibly motivating and meaningful one.

I guess it gave me a glimpse into a life not filled so much with lofty aspirations of a perfect fellowship with Christ and the church, or a toned and physically disciplined body, or straight As.

I mean I’m not going to alter my own goals– I have a shady outline of what I’m here to do, and I plan on filling it in. But there are manners that some adopt that make having goals seem like something pretentious and disgusting. Like, “I’ve got these plans and nothing is going to get in my way.”

It sounds okay, but in my opinion there need to be some priorities. Right? Like, family? Friends? Relationships with people, meaningful interactions with others, your teachers, your peers? What about living life? I don’t mean getting drunk (although hey, sometimes it’s a perk) but enjoying yourself and taking time to reflect on the happiness in your life. Little things, like having a ridiculous discussion with my roommate about Barbie and Ken, or talking to my grandmother about Criminal Minds, or savoring Starbucks because I don’t have it at home– or even staring into the sun and feeling it touch your face because it’s the middle of winter– those things are valuable to me. They are, in a way, much much MUCH more important than behaviors I’ve noticed, such as…

Biblical facebook statuses: I mean I guess people quote meaningful song lyrics and that’s similar, but please, do you really need to shove your faith in everyone’s face? I mean, I can say I love Jesus because, well, I do. But in my opinion and experience, it’s better to show your love for him through your actions. It’s really not how often you talk about your prayers or your youth group or “how you can spread the Woooord.” How about, you just go show it? Loving people without judgment is going to have more of an effect than a club at college where all you do is chat about how to add more people to your club. It feels exclusive. And it feels like bragging, and an exaggerated attempt to make oneself into someone others should seek out or respect.

Physical perfection: I understand that gyms are awesome. I have a membership. But those that get carried away, and do a freakout if they miss half a warmup or a stretch or something stupid? That’s ridiculous. The world is not going to end if you miss Pilates, dude.

Academics are overrated. Isn’t it enough that we kill ourselves to achieve proficiency at our art? The added pressure of grades just screams “give me migraines.” Some overwork themselves to the point where learning the material is secondary and the letter grade is most important. Isn’t the acquisition of knowledge the goal? Not the skill with which one takes tests.

Or, maybe I’m just overthinking this, and it’s the attitude with which one seeks perfection that is the really irksome thing. Maybe I just place too much value on not being an obsessive lunatic. Maybe I have a thing against acting like an overeager or scarily-driven know it all. Hopefully, though, I’m capable of pursuing my own goals with a passion for life and an enthusiasm that’s contagious and considerate, not obnoxious.

But that’s all I know for tonight.

Also, Lucy and I were just having a discussion while I wrote this… for her benefit I’m supposed to mention that Zulu thatchers were hired to thatch the roofs of all the gift shops in Disney World so that they would look legit.

 

* I mean, undoubtably this also has something to do with the fact that, YES I’M GOING HOME TOMORROW.

Another late night

So.

If I said I think too much, would that be surprising? In any way, shape or form?

Probably not.

But here is what I think anyway.

I think that my really weird and awful and revolting dream set the stage for an equally weird and awful day. I think that I may be getting sick and will be taking every precaution against it.

I think that this dream makes me scared to sleep again. But I mean, I have to. My eyes are just so tired. I want to snuggle up somewhere and just drop off the face of the planet for a few hours.

That sickening, heavy leaden feeling in my stomach won’t go away. I don’t want it to remanifest itself if I nod off. Who knows what it might be tonight? God. I don’t want to dream.

O del mio dolce ardor

So I’m singing in Diction today. I only have Italian, Diction, and my lesson to trudge through today and then it’s on to the weekend. But first I have to get through Diction.

I’m hungry and nauseous and nervous and tired. I need caffeine like I need sunshine. Also known as really really badly.

I think I want  a pumpernickel bagel and black coffee. By the way, I’m sitting in Java’s right now typing incoherently while Nicole and John and Mary talk about tea and sleeping around me.

Christ. Need coffee. Bye.

Wish projection = formula for success

So I haven’t written anything meaningful (to me) in about a week.

I have, however, produced the hands-down shittiest piece of writing in my life. I would say that to my professor’s face. That’s how horrendous it is. It helps that the course is only a semester long and I only have to pass it. That’s not my actual goal- I would like to knock the disapproving smirk off of her face permanently- but I feel as though that may not happen and will be pleased as long as I get through the class and never have to take it or anything similar ever again.

Speaking of goals. The other night, I had a dream. It’s been stuck in my mind for a while now, because it started as kind of a puzzling dream, and I was wondering, Okay dream, where are you going with this?

Allow me to set the scene a little bit. I have an affection toward the actor Matthew Gray Gubler. Not only does he play a great character on Criminal Minds (my favorite show for many reasons), he is actually a pretty cool dude in real life. Despite his elderly status (he’s thirty) he’s still got a pretty face on him and is doing interesting and motivating things with his life. I mean, come on, he’s directing, he’s acting, he’s being an artist– all of these things people say you can’t make money off of. And he loves it.

It’s a motivator for me because I do multiple things that people tell me will never get me any money. I mean, let’s be realistic, I’ll end up living in a box (or so I’m told). I sing classical music, want to write about it, speak and teach about it, love performing/acting/fingerpainting– yeah. Box on the side of the road.

Back to Gubler. He’s only thirty. Granted, to me right now, that seems like, um, old. But in thirteen years, that’s where I’ll be, yo. Okay, sorry. Twelve years now. Yikes. But he’s only thirty and he’s actually doing things with his life. He’s where he’s aimed. He’s famous.

Granted there’s a certain allure to fame that I’m sure isn’t so shiny once you actually get there. But I’d really like to find out for myself. Not only does fame ensure you can actually pay those college bills, it provides a conduit to sincerely make a difference in the world. To be a change.

And God knows I’d really love to be a change.

But back to my dream, I’m derailing here. So, I kind of admire this Gubler character, and he’s not too hard on the old eyeballs, either. For being old. Therefore I was confused when, in my dream, he was dating a friend of mine here at Eastman. I was like, okay, cool, but I’m having this dream. Let’s swing the focus here, huh? Instead, Rebecca’s on his arm, and then the scene spins and suddenly Rachael is telling me that he broke up with Rebecca and had started dating her… then Rebecca is telling me that he broke up with Rachael too. They both kind of merged into the same person after a while and were telling me all of these lovely things he used to do with them– outings, and walks in the country at sunset, and art show premiers… all of these great adventures. I got really jealous, and kind of annoyed now. Because those are all things I love to do, and Matthew (in my dream) had completely met me. We were on speaking terms.

The dream spun and shifted again, a spherical twist that put a giddy leap in my heart that stayed; suddenly I was having a drink with Gubler at some outdoor cafe and he was wearing his funky glasses and wide-brimmed hat. And I think plaid. We were… together. The paparazzi were there, that’s how I know.

Then we were in line for something and Jack and Matt and David were in line ahead of us? I remembered (in my dream) once having the tiniest crush on Matt and feeling balanced and not awkward about it (because nothing had come of it) when Gubler came to stand by me.

this guy = symbol of ambition ? hmm.

And you know that feeling (and this has really only happened once for me, in real life), when a guy comes up behind you and it’s not creepy? He just stands there and he’s warm and solid and present. You can tell he wants to be there and he’ll reach for your hand and/or rest a hand on your waist. That happened in my dream and I was just so… so settled, so satisfied with where I was, who I was, and who I was with.

 

Now to analyze: I don’t think this dream means I want to “be with” Matthew Gray Gubler. On the contrary, I’d rather just meet him and discuss all sorts of interesting things with him because A.) I’m sure he has a bajillionandahalf leagues of girls throwing themselves at him, and B.) I’m sure he has a wide scope of things to talk about and wanting to get in his pants would kind of deviate from any type of actual thought-related discussion.

Not that I would turn my nose up at an outing with him. I love adventures, any time, any where.

But that takes me back to my analysis. I think Gubler represented my goals. My wishes and desires to achieve, to be There in that hot light of the public eye. First I was confused, why don’t I have that? Then I was frustrated, I should have it by now. Then I did have it, and it felt right and I felt centered.

Just one possible analogy. But my eyes are getting dry and I’m tired so I’m putting this away for now. It was nice to do some storytelling for once.

Should-be-sleeping but oh, too alive poem.

There comes a time when

walking in a backwards wrongfooted flip flop

with braids undone and a

rose-tickled sunburn

a-singing with a loud unpretentious laugh-tone

in a solemn judged room with none of

that make-up on

crying so hard but it’s just because of chuckling at the

absurd-sauce and the glasses that

were so out of style

we’re not out of style but the funny doesn’t leave it since the

stern and frowning brows drawn low

claim our audacity

for us

But there’s no time when

laughing in a wrong-footed flip flop sunburned grins

are out of place since we just

live inside the moment

no thanks to what happens

if. we. wait.

This is like the coast we visited late this afternoon (Lake Ontario)

Disjointed, like my thoughts

No, I don’t
want to blog
right now.
No, I don’t
want to do
my work.
No, I don’t
want to sit
in here.
I would rather be at Sibley.
But, I can’t
leave this desk
please God
But, I can’t
slip or slack
dear God
But, I can’t
seem to stop
oh God
I would rather be at Java’s.
Why, I should
crack a book
Italian
Why, I should
look it up
that word
Why, I should
start on my
theory
I would rather be practicing.
Now, I guess
I will try
to try
Now, I guess
is the time
study?
Now, I guess
I’ll go to
sleep… or work
I would rather be making music.

Please, Bach... save me from the tedium

Must be meaning something

So I think it’s bizarre that, out of nowhere, the urge can hit me to pick up a Bible again. I think it’s strange that my wandering mind will hit upon the inspiration to turn to Romans, land upon Romans 12.

I believe it is especially weird that that’s one particular passage that could give me hope about the future, and confidence in my own outlooks and beliefs about humanity.

More on this later sometime. I’m working early tomorrow and am pretty exhausted. But I do think that it’s unbelievable what can happen when the mind and heart are open and eager, waiting for something to speak to them.

Where under the jacket

My sister just wanted to know, “You know how Harry’s always pulling his wand out from under this jacket? Where does he keep it?”

The truth is, I don’t know. Where under one’s jacket would there be a place to hold a wand? Is there a lined, inner pocket for that sort of thing? Specially made Muggle jackets for wizards, with little storage pockets? Or maybe he just shoves it in his jacket and hopes for the best.

I don’t know. And this was an entirely pointless little bloggity blog because I’m tired and want to write but don’t know what to write about.

That’s all for tonight folks. I work at 6:30 am sharp tomorrow morning and get off at three. Despite a nap when I got home from Tara’s I am exhausted and the last little dregs of a migraine are still nagging at the back of my skull. It’s freaking humid and disgusting out, but I plan to go and try to sleep in the soggy oven that is Western New York. Blercdhchgh. (That’s a revolted and nauseated noise, by the way.)

Anyway. To insomnia. Have a good one.