"All We Need is a Witch Doctor in the Corner"

In the ever-expanding category of "proverbial straws to break this poor little camel's back," the most recent one is also, perhaps, the most absolutely ridiculous. I won't bore you with the details of every little thing that's made me want to crawl in a hole and die lately, just the most recent one.

My living room is a swamp. Or, "the bayou" as we've come to affectionately call it. Through a series of complicated and annoying electrical issues, there is a pool forming under our living room carpet. It causes deep puddles to seep up through our floor, squish between our toes, and make a generally smelly mess. It has also caused our power bill to soar sky high, seeing as a) it seems to be an air conditioner issue and b) the drying process requires us to run the air conditioner three days straight without stopping, as low as it can go.

And so, today finds the residents of the bayou eating pizza, watching as numerous repairmen traipse through the house making conflicting suggestions, and keeping an eye out for gators.

And while our bayou may not have a chorus of helpful fireflies, we do have the ever-so-pleasant hum of two industrial driers, 24-hours a day! And that sweet, swampy smell of breeding mold. And the freezing cold gusts of wind from every vent. Wouldn't you want to live here?

"When nothing goes right ... go left."

When I got married, my whole life was set out before me.  School, children, the whole package.  It was a simple enough plan, and I was happy with it.

When my marriage ended, the plan changed.  Now, my goal was simply to be happy again.  After that, when my mom got sick, things started unraveling faster than I could keep up.  Nothing was stable, nothing was sure, and I've never been the type to handle change very well.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that Disney saved me.  It gave me a series of simple goals, things I could handle: Survive the College Program.  Find a place to live once it was finished.  Keep my job.  Make magic.  And I am grateful for it every single day.

But even here, things change.  Disney is sometimes the only thing that is stable.  Housing situations change.  Financial problems arise. Hearts are broken, opportunities missed, and it's far too easy to drown in the panic that comes with knowing how close you are to falling apart.

But I haven't fallen apart.  Not yet.  Because something happened shortly after I moved down here, a little more than a year ago : I finally started becoming the person I always wanted to be.  Someone who could handle change.  Someone who could bounce back.  A fighter.  A survivor.

I've been through more in the last two years than most women my age have to cope with in a decade.  And I'm at peace with it.  All of it.  I want to be the type who can fight through the hard times and come out on the other side a stronger person.  I want to have the courage to follow new paths.  When nothing goes right ... I want to be brave enough to go left.

Somebody know me too well ...

I went back to Virginia a couple of weeks ago ... It was beautiful, and terrible all at once.  There's no easy way to dive back into a painful past.  Memories and feelings will resurface.  And, in my case, you might be forced to deal with some things you've been avoiding for almost a year.  And when Brayden and I finally got a chance to talk face-to-face, we finally realized exactly where we were.

The marriage didn't work.  But the relationship did.  And when you've already married your best friend, how can anything else ever come close again?

That's the fear.  It's not that I'll die alone, or I won't find someone who makes me happy ... it's wondering if I'll ever find someone who knows me that well ever again.  Someone who loves me for all of my little annoying quirks, and knows how to deal with them.  Someone who makes long road trips fun.  Someone who knows my darkest side, but can still bring out the best in me. I just want someone to know me again, even better than I know myself.  And I'm scared every day that no one is ever going to want to. And even more scared that one day someone will, and I won't trust them enough to let them in.

As always, the music says it better than I ever could 

The Good News Daily

Here's the thing : I have all of my limbs. My mother is not dead. I have a job I love, friends I adore, and a whole new world of shining possibilities.

So why am I complaining? Yeah, things are hard. But they're not nearly as hard as they could be.

And so, for the next week at least, I'm trying something new. Every day, right here, there will be something GOOD. A smile, a laugh, a funny story. No divorce. No cancer. No complaints :)

"The Good News Daily. Nothing but good news every day. 'No Civil War in Canada,' big article. 'Cars Drive Down Road Without Incident,' front-page news. 'Puppies -- How Cute are They?' In-depth expose." 

* to those of you who get the reference, this is why we're friends.

We are starting right now with possibly one of the most brilliant ventriloquist acts I have ever seen. Take a few minutes out of your crazy Saturday and watch. I promise it's worth it!

And now, off to dance with Stitch and friends. And get paid for it. Love and laughter <3

In my continuing effort to figure out who I am as a single person, rather than as a unit, I give you the following  list of Things That Most People Don't Know About Me :

• I am fascinated by erosion, and always have been. As a kid, I tried to create a river in my backyard by letting the outdoor spigot run for about an hour every day. I figured, if the water kept running in the same place, carving the same path day after day, eventually I would wear it down enough to hit a natural water table and ... well, as you might imagine, it didn't exactly work out.
• I have never seen an "original" James Bond film. The only two I've ever seen are the new Daniel Craig movies.
• Pregnancy photos freak me out.
• My first celebrity crush was Will Smith in MIB.
• I secretly long for a relationship just like the one in "The Mummy."  Handsome rogue, beautifully stubborn woman, exotic adventures ... the actual mummies I could probably do without, but hey! At least their life is always interesting!
• Office Depot is one of my favorite stores in the world.
• I would happily rehearse for a show on any given holiday. Theatre is my all-consuming passion, and one of the few things in life I would give up almost everything else for.
• I can not make toast. I have no idea why.
• I used to be scared to death of the characters at Disney. Like, terrified. And yes, I do see the glaring irony in my life right now.
• I get far too invested in the lives of fictional characters. For instance: even as a kid, I hated Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Why? Because in the scene where Dick Van Dyke's invention makes a delicious breakfast for everyone, the character of the grandfather got nothing but a raw, brown egg. And I was heartbroken for him.
• It's quirks like that last one that legitimately make me wonder HOW I ever got married in the first place, and seriously doubt that I ever will again.
• I collect dragonflies.
• I grew up thinking I was half black. My dad had much darker skin when I was little (Cherokee in the bloodlines) and so I was convinced that I was half-and-half. And I wondered if my little brother would look black or white when he was born. It was at this point that my mother realized my mistake and corrected me. I still say I've got soul in there somewhere.
• I desperately want to be a spy. But the next best thing would be guest-starring on an episode of Burn Notice. Dear Matt Nix : You are brilliant, your show is amazing, I would happily pay you to let me be on it. Much love :)
• If ever I get into film, I would like to do my own stunts.
• I don't understand the mustache fad.

di.vorce (n)

1) the legal dissolution of a marriage
2) a complete or radical severance of closely connected things

Changing your name. Changing your Facebook relationship status. Referring to yourself as "divorced" instead of "in the middle of a divorce..."  Just another day in the life of your average 22-year-old divorcee.  The adjustment isn't as hard as I thought it would be.  In fact, it's just one less thing I have hanging over my head at the moment, which is a relief.  Something in my life is finally resolved.

And now, it's time to pick up the pieces of my life and move on. But here's the thing : which pieces are actually me, and which pieces are just the circumstances of my life ... things I can just leave behind now?  Brayden and I discussed this once, about how he wondered if he wanted to be a doctor, of if we wanted him to be a doctor. In the end, he decided that it was truly something he wanted, and that was a piece of our marriage he took with him. So which pieces do I take?

Not quite sure where to start ...

Weak

I don't like crying. It makes me feel weak. I don't like to cry, or wallow, or miss people ... but somehow I got caught in this weird cycle today, and I started missing somebody. A good friend who I don't really talk to anymore. (Who will not read this, I guarantee it.)

I didn't mean to start missing him. I've spent a very long time lately trying not to miss him, in fact. He was my first friend here in Orlando. Someone who was always there for me when I just needed to talk. Someone who managed to always make me forget all of the pain that I was going through. And when we stopped talking awhile back, I told myself that I'd built up the friendship as something more important than it really was. Just a reaction to the new environment, just someone to fill the time.

But tonight I was reading through past conversations looking for a quote, or a piece of advice he'd given me once ... can't really remember now. Either way, I suddenly realized that I have every reason to miss him. And I want to fix things so badly it hurts.

And from there, I got sucked into an even bigger cycle of missing everybody that I've lost recently. From school friends that I feel like I abandoned to the husband that I'm about to be completely and legally separated from forever. His family, who I love and miss. Even my college program roommates, who I feel like I lost any and all connection with while I was in the show back in April. By the end of all this, I somehow ended up desperately missing every one of my high school friends and wishing I was a Senior again.

Why is that? Why are these connections so important to us as a species, and how can it be so painful when they only go one way? I don't understand.

I don't understand how things that seem so right can suddenly go so wrong.  How love fades. Trust dwindles. People drift apart.  And I don't understand how I ended up here.

But I know that I don't like feeling weak. And I don't know what to do about it. Because the truth is, I don't make friends very easily. And I don't take it very well when they're gone.  The friends I have now? They're amazing, and I love them. But I just know something will happen, and they won't be around forever. I'm scared of losing them.

And fear makes you weak.

Yup, I'm in trouble.

Judge Not ...

A few nights ago I went out with one of my best friends.  He, like most of my closest male friends, is gay.  Not surprising, considering the environment. And I've never really thought about it.  It seems like homosexuality goes hand-in-hand with theatre, and it's always just been a part of my life.

But that night on the drive home, this friend said something that really bothered me. We were talking religion and I mentioned something or other about being a Mormon, and he said, "Honey, I'm in the car. You're not a Mormon."  Now, I know I'm not the most devout member in the world.  I can't always make it to church and I've seen my fair share of R-rated movies, but I beg your pardon?

Come to find out, he wasn't attacking me when he said this.  He was simply reacting the way a 20-something gay has been brought up to react to what is considered a fairly "strict" religion.  If I were truly devout, I wouldn't be so much as giving him a ride.  Mormons, apparently (or, "true" Mormons) don't associate with gays. We don't love them, or care about them, or befriend them.

This is the idea that I can't stand.  This is what's been bothering me nonstop since that night.  The following is not an attack on anyone, and it is not meant to open up a heated debate.  This is just something I have to say.

To those of you who believe "true" Mormons are judgmental, exclusive and sheltered, I'm sorry.  You have every reason to feel that way, because honestly the radicals often speak the loudest, and it's their opinions that you hear.  But as far as I'm concerned, those Mormons don't understand the true message of Christ.

L.O.V.E

We are to love our families, our neighbors, and our enemies.  And if we are to love our enemies, those who have done us actual harm, how dare we assume that we shouldn't love everybody else as well?  In my own life, I have actually been harmed by homosexuality, and if anyone had a right to be angry about it, it would be me.  But I'm not.

And it is not my place to judge.  EVER.

Matthew 7:1 Judge not, that ye be not judged
Luke 6:37 Judge not, and ye shall not be judged. Condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.

Let he among you without sin cast the first stone.

If this is a sin, it is our place to forgive.

I leave you with this excerpt from one of President Uchtdorf's most memorable talks. My Mormon readers will have already heard it, but I'd like the rest of you to know what a real, "true" Mormon leader's veiws are :


This topic of judging others could actually be taught in a two-word sermon. When it comes to hating, gossiping, ignoring, ridiculing, holding grudges, or wanting to cause harm, please apply the following:


Stop it!


It’s that simple. We simply have to stop judging others and replace judgmental thoughts and feelings with a heart full of love for God and His children. God is our Father. We are His children. We are all brothers and sisters. I don’t know exactly how to articulate this point of not judging others with sufficient eloquence, passion, and persuasion to make it stick. I can quote scripture, I can try to expound doctrine, and I will even quote a bumper sticker I recently saw. It was attached to the back of a car whose driver appeared to be a little rough around the edges, but the words on the sticker taught an insightful lesson. It read, “Don’t judge me because I sin differently than you.”


I can't say it any better than that. STOP IT. And to my wonderful friend, you know who you are. And you will always be welcome in my car, and in my life.

Reading Myself to Sleep

ca.thar.sis (n)

1) the purging of emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, such as tragedy or music
2) discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition

As a child, I could be driven to tears fairly easily. I got angry, I cried. Scared, I cried. Lonely, sick, hungry, embarrassed ... all led to tears. As an adult, I am sad to say that I did not grow out of this. I got better at putting the tears on hold until I was alone (sometimes) but I still cried very easily. I hated that about myself. It made me feel weak, and vulnerable, and pathetic. Especially since I was usually crying about things that were petty and insignificant anyway.

It's not until you lose the ability to cry altogether that you realize just how wonderful it is to let it all out. Lately, I have gotten so good at holding everything in that now, I can't cry even when I want to. I am keeping myself so together that even when I want nothing more than to let it all go, it is physically impossible.

And so, on the nights when I wish I could just cry myself to sleep (which is honestly always the deepest of sleeps) instead, I read myself to sleep. I find solace in words, and I throw myself with wild abandon into somebody else's world. But there is no catharsis for me. No release of the pent-up emotions. They simply ease their way out a little at a time, like a slow leak in a tire.

An explosion would be so much better.

Holy Updates, Batman!

The Show

Compatibility now has a Kickstarter page! Everyone head on over and take a look! We're about halfway to our goal, and every little bit helps! Click here to donate as little as $1 to the cause. And by "the cause," I do of course mean the ultimate geek takeover of the world.

And speaking of geeks taking over, apparently I need some kind of costume for the "convention" scene. Thoughts? Suggestions? Cruel jokes that will nevertheless be taken into consideration?

The Work

Disneyworld is continuing to treat me fabulously. I've just applied to extend my program, which means I'll be here until August (if they approve me.) I love my job, and I feel so incredibly blessed to be a part of the magic every day. This is only slightly marred by the fact that my work life and personal life collided rather painfully the other day (the universe has a very cruel sense of humor sometimes) but I'm shaking it off. Picking up the pieces of the wreckage and moving on. All will be well again. I hope ...

The Family

Chemotherapy sucks, but it appears to be working! Every other Tuesday, Mom spends about six hours at the cancer center. Book recommendations for the long hours are always appreciated, by the way. During her first session we had a bit of a hiccup ... she ended up in the hospital two days later, too nauseated to keep anything down. She had to be nourished and hydrated through an IV overnight. But they seem to have ironed out that little kink, and she's doing much better after this second round. It's still a difficult road, but she's a fighter. And she's got a great support group. Thanks to all of you who are taking care of my family. Love you all!

The Friends

Some days, I honestly don't know how I got so lucky. I can't begin to thank all of the wonderful people I've met here and who have become such an amazing part of my life. So for now, I'm not going to try. I love all of you, and you know who you are. Thank you for being there for me, each in your own way.

The Life

It's hard, being dropped into an entirely new set of circumstances. Life throws you curve-balls every other day, it seems, but I'm hanging in there. Here's to new challenges. Here's to adventure. Here's to music and magic and pixie dust.

Smiling on the Outside

It sucks when something completely insignificant can make me drop all attempts to think positively. When I got up this morning, I was going to have a good day. It was decided. I got up early, had a good well-rounded breakfast, and I was feeling wonderful! Everything was going to be OK ...

And then something happened. What it was isn't important. In fact, there is no reason something so trivial should have set me off this way. But the fact of the matter is, it did. And, quite suddenly, all of my carefully harnessed positive attitude vanished in a hailstorm of emotional mess.

Everything is not OK. And I don't want to talk about things, because it makes me feel weak and like I'm begging for sympathy. But, at the same time, I just want to stop smiling for once.

I don't, of course ... no one at work had the slightest inkling ... they never do. I just keep smiling on the outside.

Normal

At 22, most people are only just starting to think about marriage, rather than just getting out of one. In college, you're supposed to be a little bit immature. A little irresponsible, staying up too late and going out and partying ... that's what I've been told, anyway. That's what I'm surrounded by day after day. And while I'm not really a partying kinda girl, there are times when I envy the "dancing through life" mentality.

Your average 22-year-old isn't spending their day off on the phone with lawyers. Or paying off the balance on their couple's counseling bill. Or worrying about taking care of loved ones. And I don't mind doing it, any of it. This is just another piece of my puzzle, a chapter in my story. And if I feel a little out of place sometimes, I just remind myself that this puts me ahead of the game. I can be responsible, I can be mature, I can handle things.

But tonight, for one night, I get to forget about all of it. Magic Kingdom is going to be open for 24 hours today, in honor of Leap Day. And so, from 11 PM to about 5 AM tomorrow morning, I am going to party. For one night, the most important thing in life is living, and living it up. For just one night, I am bound and determined to be normal.

"Deal with me"

Every now and then I get hit with a very obvious "Hello, I am your drama. Deal with me now." It usually happens when I'm least expecting it, and it unbalances me in a way that makes me grasp at any outlet, any stability to keep me going. Whether it's cleaning the apartment for the hundredth time, or just talking to a friend about simple little nothings, I need something to hold me together.

Today was one of those days. Mom started her chemotherapy today, which I was expecting. This is a good thing. It means we're on the road to recovery! Well, remission, but that's another story for another time. A time when it's not one in the morning, and I can actually handle the details ... But, as I said, today was one of those days. Where I was going along perfectly fine, handling myself and life and all that entails, and then suddenly I was drowning. Everything caught up to me all at once. The very idea that my mother, the strongest woman I know, was going through this right now hit me, and all of the things I've been pushing away came with it. Prominent among them : the overwhelming feeling that I can't do this.

I can't take care of myself, why would anyone in the world think I can? I have been so spoiled it's ridiculous, and now I'm on my own.

And then I realized that it's not the self-sufficiency that scares me, I can handle that. It's not the being away from home, I can handle that, too. I can handle going home and helping the family if need be, and I can handle being responsible for myself.

No, the thing that pushed me over the edge is knowing that I'm going through this alone. I mean, I know I have friends. Some very, very good friends. And wonderful family. And I'm not going through nearly as much pain and heartache right now as some. But, emotionally, I still feel like there should be someone there to hold me when things get this way. Someone to tell me everything is going to be alright, and just let me cry without being ashamed. I had that someone for so many of the times that I thought I needed it, and now when I need it  the most, it's gone.

As I said in my last post, I am a big girl. I can take care of myself. But sometimes, I wish I didn't have to ...

The Waiting Place

"Waiting for the fish to bite, or waiting for the wind to fly a kite, or waiting around for a Friday night. Or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake. Or a pot to boil. Or a better break. Or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls, or another chance"

Oh, the Places You'll Go

I have never been a patient person. I do not know the meaning of "take it slow." I leap without looking and push myself so hard that I often make myself sick. I don't slow down, and I don't give up.

Sometimes, this works to my advantage. It has helped fuel a strong work ethic, and it helped me try to keep my marriage together even when I wanted nothing more than to escape. Granted, the marriage ended in its own time anyway, but I still fought when so many others would have given up.

But now ... now I'm stuck in that Waiting Place. I cannot help speed my mother's treatments along. I don't know how long they'll take, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I have come to accept the fact that I have to let some things go. I have to breathe, and pray, and let things happen when they will. However, my excess impatient energy seems to have re-focused itself in other areas of my life.

I am no longer content with "someday." My mother had so many "somedays," and now her whole life has shifted. I had "somedays." I had a whole future planned, and now ... well, now my future is a blank canvas. An empty page. There are possibilities and dreams and the crippling fear of failure. My life is now, not someday.

Snails

Snails never have to worry about packing. They carry their whole homes right there on their backs, and they never have to worry about leaving something behind, or bringing too much, or dressing weather appropriate ... or hotels ... making reservations ... having luggage accidentally re-routed ...

I've gotten carried away. Back to the point : lucky little buggers!

I pack a full suitcase for a weekend away. Two full suitcases for a week. This is not including the extra bag of shoes, and bathroom bag full of makeup and hair stuff. And then I have my computer, my purse, a book, an extra pillow ... So, basically, my car is packed to capacity any time I leave home for more than three days. I am a self-diagnosed over-packer. And every time I try to UNDER-pack, I end up leaving something important behind. Or, like one memorable trip last summer, I leave EVERYTHING important behind!

Problem : I am about to move down to Florida for an entire semester. That is FOUR months. You do the math people! My car can't handle it!

Solution : Become a snail. Or a turtle! Turtles have more space ... 

The Abbreviated Update

ab.bre.vi.at.ed -- adjective

1. shortened; made briefer
2. constituting a smaller or shorter version of

The long and short of it is, things have changed. Life is changing, often faster than I can keep up with. So I'll try my best to get everything out as quickly as I can, before things turn upside down on me all over again.

• Brayden and I are separated, and in the process of getting a divorce. Some of you have heard rumors, but now it's official. Let it be known that this is no one's fault. We both still love each other very much, and we're still the best of friends. But it wasn't the right time, and we will both be happier in the end. Morgan, Greta, Sarah and Chelsea, you have all been exceptionally supportive and helpful. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

• I'm living at home now, but not for long. On January 25th I'll be heading south to Orlando to work at Disneyworld! The silver lining in all of this is the wonderful new opportunities that are now in front of me. I've been offered a job with the Disney College Program, so my spring semester will be spent in the happiest place on earth! 

• I am actively working on my book, for once :) I'm on track to be mostly, if not completely, finished by the time I leave for Florida. If I'm not finished by then, I apologize in advance to my roommates.  Listening to me complain loudly and vehemently about people who don't actually exist can be entertaining, but a little confusing :)

So that's done. Now we're all on the same page. Love to you all, and Happy Holidays.

Sunday Plans

Eight AM church ... one of the less enjoyable things about visiting my parents. In "my world," church doesn't start until ONE PM!

However, the GOOD thing about having early church is that now, I can actually have a life after church, rather than getting home just in time for dinner. So I'm spending the afternoon re-learning to crochet.

I tried to learn once before. It didn't work out too well. But I'm optimistic this time, so we'll see how it goes! I can hardly be worse than I was last time ... can I?

On a side note, Pandora Radio is a beautiful thing. I sense another ode forthcoming. Stay tuned.

Project Mode

I've been getting that itch again.  The need to create, to build, to MAKE something.  Of course, the problem with my creative impulses is that I'm truly not all that creative.  I don't have the natural gift for color composition, or beadwork or sewing or even cooking.
And so, I often find myself sitting amidst a mess of fabric, string, and hot glue, DESPERATELY trying to make something appealing, or remotely attractive.

It rarely works out that way.

So tonight, I decided to start small. I'm heading into summer break and, with the exception of one class and the Maymester Musical, I'm going to be relatively free. I've already decided to spend much of my time learning new recipes in an attempt to become a better cook, but now I've added the crafting aspect to my Homemaker Training.

Anyway, here was my project of the night. I don't have a "Before" picture for you, so you'll just have to imagine the lamp without fringe.

I think it went rather well.  However, it's the only one of my projects tonight that did :( Since Brayden is off doing important pre-med homeworky things, I stayed in project mode.  And now, I have to go clean the kitchen.


... Like I said, THIS was the only project that worked out ... Including my dinner.

Downhill

The thing about going downhill on a bike is this : Part of your mind is always going "Hey, I'm on a bike, so this is exercise! It's not as bad as I thought it would be!" Forget the fact that you're not pedaling, or even breaking a mild sweat at that point. It's all in your head.

But whether or not you chose to give in to this part of your mind and believe that you are becoming a more physically fit person by soaring downhill at incredible and sometimes psychotic speeds, going down is an important part of the biking process. Not only because it's a break from the painful uphill that threatens to kill you off, but because you did, after all, have to go up to reach it in the first place. It's not only your break, it's your reward. Somehow, riding downhill if you've simply walked your bike uphill is never quite as thrilling. I always feel a little bit guilty for wimping out, and I can't enjoy the ride down as much as I should.

At the risk of sounding incredibly corny, I believe life, especially student life, can be looked at the same way. Maybe it's just me, but I never trust something that comes too easy. Grades, health, physical fitness. Love. I think that if we succeed in these areas, it's because we've worked for them. Because we were willing to sacrifice more in the beginning to have more in the end. I went through six years of chorus line roles and bit parts before I ever got a lead, and I don't regret a bit of it. I never would have appreciated getting a bigger part if I didn't know what it took to get there, and if I hadn't been willing to work for it.

I'm getting married in August, and I'm facing all manner of sacrifices. In fact, Brayden keeps telling me, "Less now equals more later." I agree with him. Yes, the first year of marriage is the hardest. But the couples who make it through are even stronger. We're willing to work for what we have, because it's important to us. And every now and then in the uphill life, we get that breath of fresh air as we soar downhill. A break. A reward. But we have to ride all the way to the top of that hill first. Then, the downhill is truly worth it.

**image lovingly borrowed from http://mtnbikersblog.blogspot.com/