Warning livejournal pirates--

Here be monsters.

So many things have happened, good things--Tour has started rehearsals, finished rehearsals, opened, closed, and begun touring around the state. I have auditioned for and been accepted to the BFA program at my school. I haven't posted about them, and that's too bad, because really, it's very good.

I hate for this to be the post I make after a long absence. But for months, before spring quarter even, I've been thinking... Is this worth it, do i want this, has this ever really made me happy, am I any good at it anyway and how much longer can I take it?

I am so, so, tired. Today I met with my new advisor, who said some things to me that I already knew (lose weight, connect better, find more levels, get some fucking confidence). We started talking a little bit about my difficulty connecting, and, as has been my habit lately, unbidden and unprompted tears start pricking. I'm sitting in front of the head of performance and I'm about to cry for no really logical reason. I hold it off for a long, long time before I lose it, and she tells me all sorts of things that are supposed to be reassurances--I saw this coming in your eyes, it's good that you're crying, it means you've got a ton of emotion welling up.

Only in theatre, right?

So I'm sitting and crying and she's telling me how it's been obvious to everyone that I'm checking out, and has been for a long time. That I'm living only half (if that) in myself, and mostly taking this outside perspective and not letting myself feel. And all sorts of other things. This concludes with her telling me I can't do anything until I become at least marginally okay with myself, and assigns me 10 daily affirmations--every night I write down 10 good things about myself. She warns me that I'll find myself experiencing a lot of emotion (and we have a very excellent counselling center if that gets to be too much, she says).

On the way home I start thinking about it, but now she's opened the floodgates. I'm going through tears and panic and just angry bloodthirsty rage at myself, walking through the surc trying to look normal (which is impossible, because by trying to suppress it I only make it more apparent, and when my eyes start to redden they become an alarming neon green that looks like I've been computer generated for some video game). This was six o'clock, it's now 8:30 and it hasn't stopped.

And I'm just tired. Always tired, done with this. I want it to end, NOW. All this misplaced unhappiness, all this ridiculous negativity that I don't have to deal with, if only I could stop it. I'm sleepy and want to enjoy life again and stop sitting alone in my room where the other people pretend I don't exist. I want to feel like I'm loved and feel confident that my presence is welcomed. and I just don't know what to do about it. How long have I been dealing with this? Why do I have to keep dealing with it, every night, why can't I have a night off once in a while?

I'm tired.

So somebody posted a mean comment on my singing for actors video. I won't post it, but it made me sad. Cause I didn't really ask for criticism and it was meant for my family and friends, and they didn't even say anything constructive. But I guess it's something I"m going to have to get really, really used to, isn't it?

I haven't posted anything in FOREVER. I might continue to not post. But I'm still readin' y'alls journals so... keep on posting!

Hey friends! So my Singing for Actors class has taken to recording the students in their workshops. So you all should listen to me sing! Don't watch the video, cause it's boring cause it's not the best quality and my arms are weird... Just listen to it. Then you alls should post what YOU'RE doing at college in a fun media format! Do it!!!

This is "Stars and the Moon" from Jason Robert Brown's "Songs For a New World." He wrote such musicals as "The Last Five Years," for those of you familiar with that show ;) It is similarly wonderful.

Well, a very exciting thing happened.

I was cast in The Adventures of Don Quixote, the touring children's show next quarter.

Basically, it's a five-person cast who does nothing but this particular play all next quarter, rehearsing 8 hours a day for 3 weeks, then hits the road for two and a half months. We come back at night and weekends unless it's necessary, but we go to elementary schools all over the state. Anybody remember the plays that used to come to LFP? Basically, it's like that.

I'll be performing for 25,000 people, mostly children. Technically they aren't supposed to cast freshmen, and it's definitely screwing with my credits, but I'm thrilled nonetheless. I'll most likely be playing a role my dad played around my age, too.

Anyways, it's cool.

In other news, I think I'm going to try to become a Passion Parties consultant. I need a job with very flexible hours, and I think that's a great way to do it. plus, I like sex and sex related items, and I imagine other people do too. They should buy them from me ^^

So now I have an especially good reason to go to the rec center: My scale is broken. About ten pounds broken, actually. I freaked out for a while before realizing that A, I could not have gained ten pounds in a week, especially considering how little I've been eating and B, Kamarie already told me it was broken yesterday. So now, since I have to record my weight loss for my health essentials class, I just have to go to the gym and weigh myself there. My first spinning class is at 7:00 AM tomorrow. *teh suck.*

i did my first dance class today and it was mind-blowingly exhausting... but it was good. I couldn't walk so well, but I suppose that'll improve with time!

Thus begins my adventure into the world of fitness.

Hello my friends!

A small update!

I was nominated for an Irene Ryan!

It's freakin' awesome!

In about a month I'm getting on a bus with my scene partner and other nominees to go to Laramie, Wyoming (yeah... that Laramie, Wyoming...) to perform a scene (or a series of scenes and a monologue, depending on how I do) for potential scholarships and awards. This kicks ass, and is awesome. Unfortunately, it also means I have about a month to prepare it all, which is not very much. But my scene partner will make sure we are more than ready (he's a bit addicted to rehearsal)... and we'll get to see fun things at the festival and all and... life is very very good.

Hooray for 22 hour bus rides.

For Christmas, my boyfriend made me a quilt. My boy picked out material and sewed together by machine and by hand a quilt for my Christmas present. It took him three days of pretty intensive labor doing something he's totally unfamiliar with. He'd never sewn anything before, and worked with his mother to learn to quilt just so he could make this present for me. He picked reds, greens, and browns to represent my "earth" element, and surrounded it with a blue water patterned cloth to represent our shared "water" element. He even did creative things like use the backs of certain patterns to make them fit into his color scheme.

Now I have a blanket to take with me back to Ellensburg, put together by my boy's own hands. How wonderful is that?

So, here's a major update post. It's full of some pretty crazy stories.

We opened A Christmas Carol on Friday. Aside from some technical problems (jerky flying, the trap breaking and Christmas Yet To Come almost falling to his death), opening was great. We were well-received by everybody, and I've gotten some very positive feedback. Kip and I, in good spirits, headed out to my car to make the "quick" (four hour) run to Seattle and back to pick up Zach (more on that later). As we made our merry way, singing and joking, I hardly paid any attention to anything as I went to unlock the car door. From behind me, I hear Kip ask,

"Hey Amanda, what's that on your car antennae?"

We both stared at it in confusion and then disgust as it dawned on us that somebody, for some unknown reason, had decided to put a duck's head on my car antennae. Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like: Someone decapitated a duck, probably the result of some hunting that had been done, and put its head on my car antennae. The blood that had dripped from it onto the side of my car was still quite red, I could tell even in the dark, so whoever had done it had done it recently. We stood there stunned for a while, trying to figure out if this was just a very unfunny joke or if it was meant to be a threat. Kip thought it might be because he's gay, I thought it might be because my mom's gay, but neither of those reasons really made any sense. So after some frantic discussion, we went back into our dorm to find an RA. She recommended we call the police, which I did, and thankfully they arrived quickly. While we were waiting for them we discovered that two other cars also had duck heads on their antennae, all in the same basic area that my car had been in. The police looked at it sort of nonchalantly, then lifted it off by the bill (Ellensburg born and raised, they didn't even use a napkin) and put it in a brown paper bag. I'm only glad I caught it that night instead of a week later when it would've been less of a head than a lump of decomposing flesh.

Now that's what I call vandalism.

Then, Saturday, my dad came up to see the show. He brought with him a gift that had a very interesting story attached to it. It was an 1890 printing of Dickens' Christmas stories he'd found on eBay (for those who don't know, I heart Charles Dickens). Normally books like these go for hundreds if not thousands of dollars, being bid on by Dickens lovers everywhere. My dad placed the first bid at eleven dollars. No one else bid against him.

So my dad thinks, wow, somebody really wants Amanda to have this book. He gets it in the mail and finds a note in the back, folded up with twelve dollars, apologizing for the rabbit nibbles on the edge of the book and asking that my dad not tell this poor woman's husband what happened. He tried to find a way to contact her without going through her husband but couldn't find anything. So basically, we got this 1890 printing for free.

Then my dad opens up the cover. On the inside is a name written in cursive. The name? Wait for it....

James Keough. That's right. This book was owned previously by a Keogh. Though the spelling can differ from region to region they all come from the same root. How insane is that?

My mom comes the next day bearing cookies and an OFFICIAL Linus security blanket. Which is very soft and amazingly warm and lovely. Since she was the first to ask about Zach, I'm going to make this my official announcement to all my lj friends:

Zach Sanders (whom you Bathhouse people may know was Gandalf, YSW people as Lear and Shorecrest people as nobody in particular) and I have been a pair for some time now. It was the result of a VERY complicated situation between the two of us and his ex girlfriend, Irene, which I won't go into. Needless to say, it's been a time of big realizations about myself and about other people in my past. I tried a lot of things to make everybody else happy but that all ended up falling apart, and in the end I had to make the choice that was going to make me happy. So I did, and this is it.

So now you know. Thus are the adventures of Amanda Keogh.

Brought Kip home this weekend to meet the family, and what an interesting weekend it was. Mom forgot he was coming, so we spent the first night sleeping on my tiny bed, which is probably smaller than the beds we have here in the dorms. Family loves kip, kip loves family, much indian food, fondue, and cookies were eaten.

Took him to Jet City to meet my boy (whom most of you don't know about and will probably eventually come to learn about but not now because the beginning of this has been a very strange, stressful and life-changing experience but oh, god, is it worth it) and had a fun time watching the actors get drunk and improvise.

Midterms for Intro to Theatre tomorrow. Bleeeeeech.

Oh em gee.

Dumbledore is gay.

Rowling even said so.

Look it up.

In her fantastic words, "Oh my god, the fanfiction."