Another day, another dollar

I'm trying to start my graduate school essay and I'm actually nervous about it. I'm getting excited about applying for University of Texas at Austin. I really like the program they have there, Master of Arts-Performance as Public Practice. It sounds awkward but actually it's rather intense, studying theatre critical analysis and editorializing it. This appeals to me because I used to write theatrical reviews for my university's shitty biweekly paper The Breeze.

Yeah, The Breeze really was a piece of shit...

Anyhow, with my credentials I'm hoping to build some sort of substantial portfolio that will make the acceptance board cream a little. Well, at least not fall asleep into their mocha lattes.

Meanwhile, the children are being children. I have this one child, we'll call him "C", who seems developmentally behind--really behind. He's five and he was still shitting in his pants at school. He can hardly make a coherent sentence and he hits his friends as a normal form of communication. He often pisses me off. Then, there's E. He looks like Rosemary's baby in kindergarden or that kid from "Problem Child"...ya know, the one that pissed Gilbert Gottfried off all the time. He's the ugliest thing in the world when he cries--a little ginger kid crossed with "Chucky".

I hope my new job in Texas is more thankful. I'm moving out there since Anthony's job is being transfered to San Antonio. He'll be getting paid a lot more and it'll be a good career move for him. I want to go with him because I love him and there are some good grad schools in Texas for theatre (as I found out through researching it.) I've lived in Virginia all my life (except the brief semester in London) and it'll be good to get out for a while.

Of course I'm afraid of the convervatism...but I'm hoping the Austin/San Antonio area will suck less than others. At least I heard Austin's pretty rad.

Nothing's permanent, I suppose. My previous and pending gypsyism proves this.

Beginning of my favorite month

In the way that terribly awful, over-played song goes, "it's been a while" since I've written.

I'm a director of an elementary school's private before and after school program. I wake up before sun even bothers to fuckin wake up. I open up the theatre/multi-purpose area space at 6 a.m. Mainly I watch the chil'rens be chil'rens and supervise a staff of 4. The first, Shauna, is a naive, neurotic 18 year old. She think she knows everything yet she's republicany and sheltered. Also, you're not that hot. Deal with it. Then there's Jeremy, who is very laid-back and very Christian. Oxymoron, maybe? I once had to tell him not to preach to the children in the morning...ya know...separation of church and state. He seemed oblivious. He went to JMU in his early twenties but then dropped out. Whatever, JMU can be a bitch. Even though he's voting for McCain (lesser of two sketchballs?), he can play the acoustic guitar well. Beth, also goes to NRCC (New River Community College, ya'll) and also like Shauna, is a childcare major. (More power to them, I love kids but having to deal with their parents is a nightmare....) She definitely is not uptight like Shauna and let's me at least pretend to "play boss" (r-e-s-p-e-c-t?) . Finally, there's the new girl who'll only show up Thursday afternoons to replace my superior, Executive Director, Ellen Canode. This new person is definitely my favorite out of the bunch so far. Gasp!Could she be cool? Could there be hip employees of this protestant childcare establish other than me? Time shall tell...

Meanwhile, Anthony's lovely (j'adore) and is currently rubbing my tense shoulders. <3

I gave the children their first free drama class this Wednesday and the boys were absolutely incorrigible. Nevertheless, I was thankful to have boys in my class, the popular ones, so it wouldn't be an all girls class. Theatre is so effeminate this century when centuries ago it was the masculine thing to do...."hearing" a play and having a deul or something.

I am wired. Must be my conspicuous hobies + stress + work + economy sucks + stress + waking up at ass crack of dawn + screaming kids - $$ = me

Werd.

I love Villa Appalaccia "Beret" raspberry wine. Tastes so yummy.

(God, I love Anthony...)

Been graduated for over two years and the fine details of my post-collegiate life are still not falling into place as I had originally schemed. I suppose this a common complaint of recent graduates, not "fitting-in" to the "real-world." I am a product of Generation Echoboomers, not exactly Generation X and not quite Generation Y but rather a categorized limbo state. As children of the babyboomers, we are their polar opposite: expecting instant gratification, a constant source of praise, saturated in so many classifications of media, and moreover, utterly misguided. Okay, granted every generation thinks they're misguided but it's my generation, the Echoboomers, who are convinced that "no one told them the real world was like this." Let's blame our parents, teachers, television, college parties, ipod, Wii, anything but ourselves. No one told you that you wouldn't be able to get a job with a theatre and journalism double B.A.? Yeah, yes they did. You just didn't listen.

I "followed my heart" and now I have the paycheck to prove it. Yes, I plan to attend VCU in the fall of 2009 persuing theatre pedagogy but I can't resist the twinge of jealousy I feel towards others who are pursuing the actor thing in great cities. I think perhaps I've failed myself by not being 100% broke, working as a waiter, trying to do the starving artist cliche. Then again, no, fuck THAT. I'm paying for my very own first car and have to sustain bills anywhere from medical payments (thank you, America for having the SHITTIEST HEALTH CARE SYSTEM in one of the 'richest' nations), student loans to grocery bills. I suppose I'd rather have some sort of stability before I take a giant leap. As for now, I oscillate between being severely anxious over not immediately being where I want to be in life to being utterly depressed. I'm medicated for these mood swings but hell it's in my blood, even my grandparents are on the same medication. Now tell me what the hell does that say about the human race? Generation gaps collide when DNA produces the inevitable bullshit: we're all just as fucked up as our parents, and our parent's parents, and their parent's parents....

Makes me want to get high. Really high. So, in the spirit of lyrics from Godspeed! You Black Emperor, "We're on so many drugs with the radio on and the curtains drawn."