Nothing altogether remarkable happened during the week, besides discovering that I'm completely broke. Which was de-fucking-lightful/. So the search for a job has begun. I "applied" at Espresso 22, and after scene rehearsal tomorrow I plan on trying to make some more rounds to all the coffee joints on campus. I might even try the post office in coffman. Still, I need to make some money for my trip to SoDak to visit the Matthew. I should see if I could score a ride there with Jared or something. That would chop expenses...I should probably find out when I get my tax return. I hate practicality. And money. Restrictions in general.
Yes, the dreaded grey font. Things in Fun-for-mentals of Performance have turned sour. Brandon is really not making my life any easier with the script by complaining about the way words sound. Also, Saturday night I got hit with some pretty hard news and my writing brain just shut down into total block. So, I decided to send out the script for their comments, and got none. I brought the script to the rehearsal today, and nothing got done. No practicing salsa dancing for me for obvious reasons... but Brandon and James were supposed to have choreographed their dance-off and write the script for their fight and send it to me for editing. Guess what I haven't recieved. Yeah.
It can only go downhill from here, folks. On a thoroughly depressing note, Grandma U has liver cancer. That was the aforementioned bad news. I'm hoping to make a stop by Judy & Jerry's house to hopefully see her when I come home... I'm so terrified it'll be the last time I can/will see her. It makes me feel so awful for not keeping in better contact. I take so much shit for granted, and it makes me feel like such a hypocritical bastard. The rug was further whipped out from underneath me earlier tonight too, when one of my idols committed suicide. Requiscat in Pace, Hunter. It's just so devastating...someone who seemed so clearly invisible, star-dazed, and brilliant just... I can't even describe how wrong it seems. The world needs people like him and now? Plus, I hate admitting it, but seeing people like him, and elliot smith, sylvia plath and the like take their own lives... it just really makes it seem like there's no hope. I know that's bullshit, even as I write it, I know it's bullshit. But I mean, he's the reason I got interested in journalism. It's just such a sucker punch...and I was already down.
I was collaging earlier, and I was trying to get glue off of my finger and thinking about Hunter, Amanda, Ryan, Mr. Allen, suicide and death in general... and I looked at my hands and for a moment I just saw them cold, lifeless, and immobile. Someday they'll be dust. I've never been afraid of death...but for a moment I was terrified by that concept. This body is all that I know, and it's so fucking feeble. I can understand the appeal of wanting to be the instigator of one's own demise, rather than having it be a circumstance out of your control, when you're not ready, when you haven't finished what you wanted/needed. I remember looking down at my collage, and thinking... this is not what I should be doing with these hands right now. I don't have time for this shit. Still, I continued doing it because... I couldn't think of anything better to do. I was going to read, or knit, but because the fucking collage has a due date stamped on it, I - being the good little lemming that I am - did the fucking collage. Life seems so short. So ... cruel. We spend our lives trying to figure it out, and by the time we do - if we ever do, it's over. I told Matt that I wish I could find the thing that would make it all better when we were on the phone tonight. I felt like such a child after I said it... so, idealistic and naive. Really though, that's all I want for everyone. I want them to be happy, I want everything to work out in the end. Even if everything isn't glorious and perfect, even if there are periods of sadness... those are necessary to enjoy the happiness. Still, I just want everything to even out in the end... I want the final score to be positive. I wish I could help instead of being so fucking helpless. I feel so trapped right now. So restricted by all these ridiculous constraints I neither approved nor asked for. I'm such an idealistic fuck. I imagine someday I'll be able to love like I want to and everything will just fucking be sunshine, daisies, and bunny rabbits.
Anyway, I feel badly for cutting my conversation with Matt short tonight. He is really the only person I want to talk to right now, but I just ran out of words tonight. I was too overwhelmed with all of this stupid shit on my mind. I guess I understand why he asked to have a week off now, or at least I understand the feeling. I needed it tonight, just to be alone and able to think and to cry. Plus, he's got enough shit on his plate over there...I don't want to add myself to his list of concerns. Still... I was so glad to hear from him, even if he couldn't come for the visit. I tend to miss the kid. Imagine that.