.... No clever title

Are we just holding on because we are scared of the alternative?

On having a month left to figure out the rest of my life.

There is exactly one month left of classes at Cornish. Graduation is the following week.

I have no idea what I am doing. I didn’t think about things early enough. AGAIN. What the hell is wrong with me? Every time I think about graduation, my stomach knots up and I feel like I am either going to puke or faint. Maybe even both. I always start crying. If anyone mentions it, even briefly, I start off in to a fit of tears. I am crying right now because it is really fucking scary.

 \\It scares the living shit of me. Mostly because I have no plans for afterwards. I mean… I have travel plans for the week after graduation, but besides that… Nothing. I had plans to apply to grad programs but no where accepts students straight out of undergrad programs. So that means I have to wait a year and try to get theater work. I was going to apply to internships but even those fell through because they got cancelled or people didn’t get my recommendation letters done. Now I all I can see is me working in retail and being miserable the rest of my life.

See. I have this giant fear that if I don’t get any theater work in the next six months that I will never work in theater. I will be passe and someone much more talented than me will get the job. Then I won’t have experience to show grad programs… so they won’t accept me. It is just so scary. I will be stuck in some dead-end job, living at my parents’ house and trying to pay off my student loans. Why the hell did I think going to a private art college was a great idea? Why didn’t I apply to a state school and become an accountant or something?

I mean… I love theater. I love designing and working with other designers. I get so excited about it and feel so empty when it is all over. This is what I want to do with my life. For the rest of my life. I love it so much.

I just don’t want to be a failure.

Disappointments.

I hate when I disappoint my self. I hate it more when I disappoint others. I think I might have spent the good portion of the afternoon crying. I asked the wrong people about something, so I got the wrong answer... And I don't know how big the consequences are going to be. Part of me assumes automatic failure... which yay... Fucking six months down the drain because I got excited at the prospect of seeing my family for the first time in a month and going home for a day. I should have known better as a senior, going through four years. I don't know why I thought it ought to be any different or any other way. I don't. I can't stop crying and feeling like shit. Nothing anyone has said to me had made me feel any better about any of it. I try to work the hardest and be the best. I let myself down. All I want to do right now is stay in bed and not move for a week.... Fuck.

Missing A Piece That Was Never There

\Just posting because I keep thinking about something lately. It probably shouldn't affect me now at all, because I didn't even know this person but I can't stop thinking about her.

I miss my grandmother, Donna Fae. My Dad's mom.

She passed away from some sort of female genital cancer when he was a senior in high school, before he met my mom. So I never knew her and she never know me. My dad would always tell me stories about her because... I must have asked when I was little alot. We have this picture of her when she was young with a violin, which made me want to play the violin. I never got to because the one in the picture went to my cousin for some reason (which I was mildly bitter about then).

My mom would tell me that the night before I was born, it snowed. In March. So there was snow on the ground when I came in to this world and my mom said that it was a blessing from my grandma. So that is what I always thought snow was, a gift from my grandma (I still do sometimes). I also believed that she was my guardian angel, looking over my shoulder when ever I needed one. Because if she couldn't be there supporting me in this life, she would support me in the afterlife. I don't think my dad realizes how much I think about this woman or how much I miss her. I have cried about it a couple time, I am now.

When we did go to things that involved my dad's family, I would hear the adults say how much I looked like Donna and how I was just like her. That I was the spitting-image of her and all that. My dad says that if she was alive, she would be the biggest supporter of my work in the arts. I think that is one of the reasons I miss her the most. None of my family outside of my immediate one has ever shown any kind of support for the work I have been doing. Knowing that she would be at everything, cheering for me almost hurts.

I wish she was here. I think a lot of things might be different. I think we would have better relationships with my dad's side of the family. I think my dad might be a slightly happier person (not saying that he isn't). I think that I wouldn't feel this odd empty presence in my life when I think about family. I miss her.

Ah, the things of nightmares!

I love having normal seeming dreams that turn in to life-scarring nightmares just before you wake up so that there is no way for it to end happy. The best thing ever. Especially when it involves these... things...

If you don't know.... Be glad. If you do. I am sorry that I just reminded you of the fear-filled terror that is the Doctor Who episode "Blink". I shall leave you with this.