About the Script...

So, I figured out a few things after feeling like this month was a complete waste.

I expected that writing about all that stuff from my past would be cathartic, would help me to get past some thing that have happened even recently. But, honestly, it just dredged up a bunch of crappy memories and forced me to go into detail about them. So, that was a bust.

Honestly, I think it was the wrong venue. No one-man-show could hold all of that. I needed a novel...a memoir. Trying to stage something without being able to see it or know that people could portray all the emotions there...it's hard. It doesn't work. I would have needed pages and pages of stage direction just to get through it. But I skipped all that. I just let it speak for itself.

Do you know what it said?

*pthththththththtbbbbb* It blew a big raspberry at me. But it waited 29 days to do so.

So...maybe the right sentiment, but the wrong medium.

This is one of those projects they're going to publish after I die and it'll win a Tony or something...ugh.

And now I'm feeling chapped. No wonder, since I basically masturbated onto the page for a month. Blech. But it was a learning experience. I keep telling myself that. Maybe it'll stick.

Out

It Is Finished...

FINALLY!

I win.  102 pages.  Wow.  I always forget how much I hate doing this.  So...I'm done until next year, when I agree to do this again.

Out

Happy Place...

I want to be here all the time.

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Old Emotions...

God...who would have thought that dusting off an eight-year-old fight and writing about it would be so hard?! Oh...wait...I knew this would make me miserable for the month. I just wish everything else was peaches and roses while I did it. I have to literally drag myself to the computer (okay...maybe not literally) and type. But I made it past the hardest stuff. Now...to fill 27 more pages...with...now. That's going to be the kicker. I don't know what I'm going to do, but...there it is.

I'm only one page behind right now, but I couldn't bring myself to type another word today. Not after re-typing the emails between my dad and I and correcting for his terrible spelling and punctuation so that someone else could read it on stage if they had to. GAH! That's draining. I'm okay with being behind, though. The Script Frenzy website is down. Has been for days. I'm so okay with that right now. I just hope it comes back up before the end of the month.

But we're moving on. Again. Some more.

Out

Currently...

My mouth is taped shut.
My hands are tied.

Where the hell is my Pulitzer?

Out

Script Frenzy...

So, I'm writing the script about my relationship with my dad. It's not that simple, though. I called it "Mistakes Men Make". I'm 51 pages in, and I'm soooooo blocked. I know where I want to go, but I don't know how to get there. I have to go back and talk about church, relationships, and all of that before I get to where I want to be. It's slow going, and I'm ten pages behind again. I guess I'll catch up tomorrow, because today I only have a half hour and no motivation.

Blah. It's not going well. Usually Script Frenzy is WAY easy. 100 pages in a month? Four pages of script normally takes about a half hour for me, because of all the formatting, the scene changes, stage direction, lots of speakers. This one, though? It's just a LOT of narration. Kind of a one man show. God, it's so terrible. But I think it's doing me some good to write it. Finally.

That is, if I keep on keeping on with it...

Out

The One Where I Am 28...

No, really. Today is the anniversary of my harrowing escape from the womb. C-section. Never touched a vagina. Probably never will.

Well, I finally feel like I'm out of my mid twenties and into the "almost 30s". Which...doesn't thrill me. I don't mind growing older. I've been looking forward to 35 for a long, long time. Like...since I was 16. I always pictured it as the perfect age, the age where you've got life figured out and you're kicking back to enjoy it knowing who you are and what you want out of life. But...the closer and closer I get to all my peers being 35, I realize that they haven't got it all figured out. They don't know what they want out of life. They don't know who they are. They're suffering divorces, job loss, the death of loved ones...

I still look forward to it. But 30...30? Not so much. Why? I don't know. My friend Jhonna said it's probably because 30 feels so much more concretely adult. It does. But I'm all about growing older but not growing old. Maturity doesn't mean you have to stop being a kid at heart. And that's where I am. I'm playing Pokemon, for God's sake! I mean...really. Getting older isn't a bad thing. I have more disposable income, and I can finally start to afford to do the things I've always wanted to do and to have the things I've always wanted to have.

I've got a wonderful boyfriend who takes great care of me and loves me. I'm healthy (as far as I know), and happy (for the most part). We've got a Marbles Kitty and a place for him to plop his fat butt. And there are PRESENTS on the table in the kitchen that it's KILLING ME not to open. No matter the age, I'll never be too old to be excited about birthday presents. Now I'm just old enough to realize that a birthday dinner is a present, too.

Greetings from 28. I wish you were here!

Out

Doesn't Grow on Trees...

This post is not about money.  It's about one thing.  One thing I learned while at Disney Land a bunch of years ago.  I think this might be one of the most common misconceptions out there about something that we could potentially see every day.  

Pineapples.  

They don't grow on trees.  No, really.  Look.

I know...I know...I was floored all those years ago when I found it out.  I think this is my life's calling--dispelling the myths about pineapples growing on trees.  Done and done.  Now what?  Cheesecake for breakfast, most likely.  Now you can't say you didn't learn something today.

Out

Restless Arms...

Last night Robb wakes me up in the middle of the night, "JUSTIN!"  He's yelling from right beside me.  He sounds mad.  I roll over.  "Mmmm?  What?"  And then he starts telling me that he just heard something fall over in the kitchen.  He says it sounded like a pool ball being dropped on the floor or a cabinet door slamming shut.  So we get up, we look around, and we find nothing.  Not a single thing out of place.  So...we go back to bed.

Too much My Ghost Story on tv Saturday at my Mom's house, I think.  

But then we go back to bed and I can't sleep.  I keep almost getting to sleep and he gives the blanket a little tug.  I'm over heated.  My pillow is a little damp from sweat.  And I'm listening for whatever it is he thinks he heard.  I think he dreamed it...but that doesn't mean it makes it easy to go back to sleep.  And on top of it all, I'm hit with restless arms.

I doze off, and there's a current, an itch, a jolt...something...that runs through my arms and makes it necessary for me to shake them out.  It just happens over and over and over and over.  It's WAY annoying.  FINALLY I sit up in bed and say, "Well, I guess I'm just not sleeping tonight."  I wake up sitting up a while later and lay back down...and it finally stops.

It's the most frustrating feeling in the world...

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Script Frenzy...

Today is day one of Script Frenzy, that crazy thing where I write a 100 page script in a month.

Thing is, I don't really know if I'm doing it this year. Time shall tell, huh?

Out