What was planned: a weekend in Dallas or Houston from Friday night to Sunday night/Monday morning, with Saturday through Monday off of work.

What I altered: Dallas or Houston Saturday evening through Sunday night/Monday morning with Sunday and Monday off of work, leaving after work on Saturday (auditions for my university's fall plays were Friday night, and I didn't want to lose too many hours at work)

What I settled for: Getting drunk at the ball/dance on HiH's Hogsmeade weekend with my friend/roommate with only Sunday off of work (callbacks were until, like, four right after work and if I wasn't going to Houston/Dallas, why would I need Monday off?)

What actually happened: Had a fucking terrible weekend, looked forward to drinking. Am now in the living room, depressed-eating devil's food chocolate cookies and mini honey buns, washed down with skim milk, and watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire while roommate/friend is in our room playing WoW, as she has been since she moved in. Oh, but I did get the part of Claire in "The Long Christmas Ride Home." Then again, one of my housemates still hasn't given his share of the utilities payment to me.


Happy fucking birthday to me.

So, one of my neighbors and one of my housemates were talking recently. Apparently, the neighbor asked the housemate to tell us to refrain from our excessive partying, as they are of the elder type and thusly go to bed early. Our noise is keeping them awake and they don't want to have to call the cops.

Only thing is, everyone who lives here is generally so quiet that we surprise each other when we come out of our rooms because we didn't know other people were here. Tony and Heather will generally go out if they're going to party, and Max and I practically live on the internet. I work at six in the morning generally so I'm in bed by ten (even if I'm not actually asleep until one. Whoops.)

The only noise I can really think of is when Max has some of our friends over to play Rock Band into the wee hours of the morning, but that noise is in the house further from the neighbor and the neighbors on the side closer to that room have told us that they can't hear a damn thing.

People are weird.

In other news, classes start soon. Not really looking forward to the adaptation of The Imaginary Invalid that's kicking off our theatre season, but I will cut a bitch to be in The Long Christmas Ride Home. I'm not too sure about A Doll's House, though, because LCLT people have been asking me to audition for Moon Over the Brewery for the part of the daughter, and I'm seriously considering it, but the two overlap. Then is Working, the Musical, which I'm excited and nervous about. APO stuff as well, but we've already got some ideas. I just am not so much looking forward to Senate meetings.

My birthday is soon. Turning twenty. My plan, like, a month and a half ago was to take the entire weekend off and go to Dallas to make up for missing HBP, but now it just seems weird and creepy and imposing to even bring it up, so I just asked the Sunday off, in case Max wants to go out and have a weekend we'll never remember (her birthday is two days after mine.) Honestly, I'm not really expecting much. Ever since I became a legal adult, my birthdays have kind of been on the sucky side and I just kind of want to pretend they don't happen.

Speaking of sucky birthdays, I don't turn twenty-one until next year, so I couldn't see Blue October and Switchfoot. FUCK L'AUBERGE. Fortunately, I have hardcore friends who are also not twenty-one, so we ended up at Hot Topic and Spencer's until the mall closed, then went to BAM and got Dirty Minds, then spent the next hour trying to find a store that had everything we needed for s'mores in one convenient location. Then home we went and watched an episode of True Blood (poor bbs who aren't all caught up yet THEY HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN TO THE AWESOME THAT IS JUSS-CUH YET) and played Dirty Minds. It was pretty boring in its board entirety, so we did one round with the board, then just read to each other from the booklets.

I want to play Harry Potter Scene It, because I like those games and I'm Potter-obsessed and if Max's ignorance to the fact that Cedric Diggory and Edward Cullen were both played Robert Pattinson (or Patterson, if you ask her), I would totally rock hardcore.

So, this was my update. I felt like making one, so I did and now I'm going to get all spiffied up. Going to Crystal's tonight for a drag show. I could get used to this "going out" thing.

Won't you sing me to sleep?


You know, I used to think that whole "You know you're stressed when you can hear a mime" joke was funny. Not lately, though.

Stress is not being able to remember why stabbing a person is not an appropriate course of action and not being concerned that the thought is so frequently crossing your mind.

Stress is wanting to cry every time a customer comes through at work.

Stress is having so many things to deal with that your dreams are no longer working them through using metaphors and symbolism, but, rather, dealing with the situation so realistically that you wake and can't remember if you actually took care of it or not.

Stress is wanting to hit your superiors for asking why you look so tired and saying you should get more sleep, but settling for snapping back with "I would, but people keep walking me up and telling me I need to be at work/rehearsal."

Stress is hating everyone around you because you haven't been able to go out with friends since...god, can you even remember?

Stress is hating everyone around you because you can't remember the last time you went out with friends, but they won't shut up about all the fun you missed out on the night before.

Stress is wishing your car wasn't having issues because all you want to do is fill up your gas tank and start driving.

Stress is nearly crying because, on top of everything, the house that is leased under your name reeks of pot and, fuck, if he disregards my request to go elsewhere, I'm kicking him out.

Stress is being tired and angry and upset all the time and hating the world because they keep poking and prodding at major contributors to the stress.

Stress is being told that one of your off days is being changed because you're the only one who can come in...

...and stress is your other off day only being a day off from work; you still have the matinee for the show you're stage managing as well as the set strike afterward.

Stress is listening to your coworkers talk about how it's weird to be working again after 4+ days off, but being told that the three days you requested off to maybe go to Houston and actually have a little fun for your birthday for the first time in 3+ years, which you offered to reduce to two days and work the morning on Saturday, might not be given to you.

And stress is writing this all down and getting it off your chest and not feeling any better.

I don't know how many of you (not that there are many of you) know this, but I recently rented a house with a few of my friends. It's small, cheap, and I love it to bits. Most importantly: it's sort of within walking distance for many of the places I frequent most (the bookstore, the mall, my university, Smoothie King, etc.) When I say within walking distance, I mean it's about a fifteen minute walk across some busy streets, but I used to do that at NSU around the entire campus when I was bored. Now I actually have a destination and reason to be outside and listening to music. I enjoy it; don't judge me.

I also have begun using my car as an excuse to walk to these places. My car's thermostat seems to be malfunctioning, but attempts to actually find the damn thing have proved futile. Thus, I'm only driving to work and back to the house, or places near work, and giving my car plenty of time to cool down between. Any further and I call in a ride.

Anyway, today, I decided to walk to the bookstore. Why not, you know? I was bored and I don't really exercise or leave the house, and I didn't want to shower and then be struck with the urge to go out and sweat. So, I gave into my urge with the resolve to shower afterward. I made it to the bookstore and started salivating over the baking books (Skinny Bitch in the Kitch made me lol quite a bit and I'm thinking of buying a copy) and collecting books to read while I was there. One hundred and fifty pages later, I happen to look up and notice the sky is rather dark. Worried about getting eaten to death by mosquitoes and my fear of getting attacked while passing under the interstate and by some bars at night, I decide whether or not I'm buying anything (Harry Potter Should Have Died, a collection of views on certain aspects of the series from Mugglenet.com) and paid for my book. Then I realized it wasn't falling dark at all: there was a storm a-brewin'. Or, rather, it had already brewed. Or something. It was raining really, really, hard and there were dark clouds everywhere and lightning and thunder, okay? And I am without car.

While my shirt had capsleeves, it also had a hood and pocket in front. I almost never bring my bag with me when I walk, preferring to go out in my cargoes, so all of my items were in neat little pockets. I popped my hood over my head to protect my earbuds, folded the plastic bag holding my book neatly over its contents (the paperback and my iPod), tucked the bag under my shift, and walked home. Well, walked, ran, and danced.

The water came up to my ankles in some places and I stopped under some awnings two or three times to wring out my hood, but it was amazing and beautiful and I'd do it again.

I've said before (maybe not here) that I love storms, and I wish you guys could have been with me to see why. I came alive under that downpour and I understood why some religions hold so much reverence for nature. I can't put into words how it felt, staring up at the sky and somehow feeling part of it.

It was a beautiful, glorious moment of my life from which I'm still descending from the high. I may regret it tomorrow, but right now, with my warmest dry clothes and my fleece blanket and my bowl of cereal, listening to the storm pass and smelling the rain still on me whenever I turn my head, I can't find a reason to.


tl;dr:

My friends and I had rented a house, and we assumed that the previous tenant would simply transfer the accounts to our names. We show up at the house the day we're meant to move in...and there's no electricity. For about a week we were unable to move in: we submitted our application online Wednesday night and were told it would take about two business days to process and then another two business days to get someone out to the house. Thursday was day one. Friday...was July 3 and considered a holiday. Saturday, then Sunday...Monday was day two. We called the company to confirm that our power would be turned on soon; lucky we did! Apparently, because of my age, they had some hold-ups with the application. After everything was settled, they confirmed that someone would turn on the power the next day. Which they did. Around three in the afternoon. Bleh.

Go figure that night we had a terrible storm that flooded the street and (say it with me) knocked out the power.

YES, MY GODDAMN EMO FUCKING SWEARING JOURNAL IS GOING HERE BECAUSE I NEED TO FUCKING VENT BUT GOD FORBID I TELL THE PEOPLE IT ACTUALLY CONCERNS WHY I'M UPSET, OR THAT I EVEN AM.


Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I've been shy and had low fucking self-esteem since I was little. Beyond low self-esteem. But I did have friends, and we would play together. It was nice.

Then friends started to move away. Some remained in contact for a while, some I've never heard from again. One girl - who was my best friend and has lived across the street from me literally my entire life - stopped coming around because I read too much, apparently.

Not very good for my self-esteem. Fast forward many years, repeat the formula over and over. I'm nineteen now, almost twenty. I have...friends. Ish. Somewhere between class(/cast)mates and friends, really.

Actually, I'm not even entirely we're in that spectrum, either, actually. The rest of them are. I'm just...existing.

They always come in with these fun stories. Them going out drinking, them going out to karaoke, them going out to eat. Just today, some of the cast was talking about how it has become tradition for the cast and crew to go out to a local bar after rehearsals. Last time I checked, I was cast. Last time I checked, I'd never heard of this activity.

And when I am invited, there really is no specific thing. It's always "Are you working tomorrow?" or "When are you off?", followed by "Oh, we should totally do something!"

And I believe them.

I believe them every fucking time.

And what does that get me? An emo status on Facebook at 11:00 at night while I decide between reading Good Omens and Midaq Alley with a violent movie in the background, all while wishing the batting cages were open.

Honestly, I'm not sure whether it would be better or worse to try calling and asking about it one night. Would I get a location and finally have a little fun? Or would I sound desperate or get the fake nervous laughter and apology from a person who was only being polite? I've always been of the mindset that, if they really wanted me there, I would be informed, so my money's on the second response.

And I go on Facebook or to rehearsals and have to hear about the stories from the night before or plans far-away friends are making that I can't possibly be part of and I hate it. I can tell them about all of the fun facts of Saw II because, this time, I've decided to watch it with the commentary on. I could tell them that I've discovered that, for whatever reason, Changeling does not make me cry as much as I'd thought it would. I could also tell them about all the knowledge I've gained about changelings.

Or I could turn up my iPod until there's no one in the world but me and Billie Holiday and maybe an old friend named Harry. Or Lestat. Or Tyler.

Because books and music...

They will make me cry sometimes, but they'll never leave me wanting on a Saturday night. In a fashion, they are my best friends and more trustworthy than any human. It's always nice to have something in your life that is.

Quote of the Day: "You haven't learned anything today, have you?"

Quote of the Day: "I'd much rather battle with hamsters to the death."

The cast list for "Wait Until Dark" is going up tomorrow. It's basically between me and one other girl for the part of Gloria. Ugh. I think I'm going to hurl. I keep telling myself that if I don't get the part, understudy is fine, but I really don't think it is.

I want to be in this play so badly.

I can't wait that long. Tomorrow. Tomoorrrrooow.

To anyone who read my Sorting application for hogwartsishome: this is the play I wanted to steal the lead role for. Unfortunately, that worked out in a way that it didn't at all whatsoever. But Gloria would have been a sure thing for me if the twelve-year-old daughter of one of the theatre professors hadn't auditioned. Grr.

Seriously, guys, I am freaked out about this.

It's got me thinking, though. The directors won't consider me for a lead role because most lead characters for plays they choose are in their upper twenties and older. One of the professors told me my range was ten years old to maybe twenty or twenty-one. Unfortunately, I need performance lab credits for lead parts to graduate. It's not my fault I look young...

In other news, Scorpius Malfoy and the Improbable Plot is quite possibly the best crackfic in the history of ever. Seriously. Read it. It's a WIP, but I don't even care.

Also in other news, there was apparently a reason I was inexplicably reminded of James and the Giant Peach whenever I saw previews for Coraline. Go figure.

Quote of the Day: 'Oh, I almost forgot. In the event that anyone besides big-headed Near or the deluded murderer is reading these notes, I should at least perform the basic courtesy of introducing myself, here at the end of the prologue. I am your narrator, your navigator, your storyteller. For anyone else but those two, my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago.

Good memories and nightmares.'

Boo. I was going to try and find a place to rent Doctor Who, because I'm giving the hell in and remembering the last time everyone I knew told me I NEEDED to watch something, I ended up addicted to Firefly. Planet Hollywood came through for me! Yay!

Unfortunately, my sister racked up fifty million dollars in late fees there, so I failed to rent the stuff. And it's not a priority for her, so it may or may not get paid after she catches up on her car notes, pays everyone she knows back, etc.

Hope she keeps her newest job for more than a week. >.<

Also, my advisor told me yesterday that one of the classes I was excited about is being canceled until the Spring 2010 semester, which means I have to find a new class that meets all my requirements (not in the mornings any day, as I work MWF mornings and already have TR morning classes, can't coincide with current class times, not in the evenings (rehearsals), preferably not a web class, and counts toward my degree). FUN.

And YouTube has removed three of my videos in one fell swoop, and I wasn't able to make back-ups since my computer crashed no long ago and took the copies with it. Fucker.

In lighter news, Older!Lily Luna cosplay was done for the lulz.

I GET BORED AND I HAVE WIGS AND A MAKE-UP KIT, OKAY?

Cut for the sake of flist.

( Control picture )

( Freckles! )

( And this, children, it called a closet cosplay. )

( 'You look like your mother. Except for your eyes. I don't know who the hell gave you those'. )

Note to self: get car inspected this month!!!!! Pray that your three broken light covers, cracked windshield, and broken door handles do not deem it impassible. Fer truth.

Quote of the Day: "Nothing? Nothing? Nothing, tra-la-la?"

Um...okay.

I got a raise, like, a month ago, but it was going to appear on the paycheck AFTER the one I got when they told me. Yay, moar money, right? Well, they FORGOT TO ADD IT GRR. So I went to talk to my manager about it and, after fifteen minutes of phone calls and number-punching, I got, like, seventeen dollars added to my check.

Then he gave me another raise. O.o

Sometimes life is just so deliciously random.

Quote of the Day: "...I examined with interest the chapters that you found particularly offensive in my series and in the work of others. They did follow a pattern, that you wouldn't need to be L to draw conclusions from. It's Mello, isn't it, my love? So many themes that confuse Mello resonate for you too. He's got under your skin, hasn't he? In truth, we all had a shock, while reading the manga, when it dawned on us he was actually male. The hair-do and eyeliner threw us all. The shock you had is still throwing you though, isn't it? You hit more people in the Mello specific clubs than you did in Mattgasm.
[...]
"...You are a teenager and this is a very fraught time for you right now. It gets better, I promise, but first you are going to have to accept it. You are gay. Mello, when depicted so realistically in artwork and literature, does move you differently. It's ok. He does that."

Dear mrsjeevas,

I love you so hard.

ANYWAY. The actual point of this post is much more trivial.

I don't care what anyone says.

Y'all, if they cut the bit in Half-Blood Prince where Malfoy stomps on Harry's face, I will burst into tears you don't even know. :|

Just saying.

ETA: Okay, I just rewatched the HBP trailer.

First of all. DID DUMBLEDORE AND HARRY JUST APPARATE ONTO THE ASTRONOMY TOWER?!
Second. Why the fuck is NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM in N.E.W.T. POTIONS?

Lastly: Tom Felton Draco Malfoy is a sexbomb. Yus.

Well, my resolution was to sleep until 2010. I fell asleep around 11:30, so it seemed to be going pretty well. But I woke up around six forty-five this morning freaked the fuck out because I thought I was late for work. Silly internal alarm! I don't work today! I work tomorrow. At seven. Chill the fuck down and lemme sleep.

Actually, no gifts jump out as significant. Perhaps one Christmas, when my godfather gave me the third Harry Potter book. Turned out to be my favorite AND concerning Harry's own godfather, so I always remember that.

I think I'll remember this Christmas for quite some time, though. Not for anything I received, but for what I gave. I got the Collector's Edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard for a friend of mine. The entire week leading up to giving it to her, I was bouncing. The day I went to deliver it was hell (my manager kept me over, so I left late, then hit two roads under construction, then got lost), but giving it to her...I'm so glad I thought to bring my camera to record the moment. I've never seen anyone's face light up like that and I treasure it. Maybe that's my favorite gift. Yes, that moment in time was the greatest gift ever and I will treasure it always.

Y'all, I am so scared for the sixth Harry Potter movie right now.

!!!!!!OHAITHAR. THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS!!!!!!


ETA: It occurs to me that this is the perfect time to use an LJ cut. :|



Scenes reportedly CUT AND/OR ALTERED from the movie (as so far in my knowledge):

( I've never seen you fall so hard )





Please, feel free to add some that I've forgotten.

Quote of the Day: "I think I did good on my English final."
"..." *loses my shit*

Okay, so everyone was opening presents, right? And I look around...

My brother's messing around on his new laptop. My sister is figuring out her new iPod Touch.

And then there's me, lounging on the couch in my Hogwarts tank, softly caressing the cover of my Collector's Edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and meditating on the thought of getting in my copy of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.

Ah, books. I know I'm an internet addict, but books will lure me away every time.

Quote of the Day: "You have to figure out MacBeth's conflict. It's usually with another person, but it can be with anything. A person, an animal, a tree..."
"Especially if the trees get up and attack you."
"Right, or i-..." *cracks up*

My Christmas present from my sometimes girlfriend.



Merry Christmas, this is your present.
It's a sonnet.

Kelley Landry, my sometimes girlfriend
Merry Christmas, Hannukah, Kwaanza to you
I never want our friendship to end
Even if, one day, you give me the flu
Jesus-man is trying to save us
But don't worry, it won't work
I'll use on him my learned techniques of thrust
And on campus he'll no longer lurk
Whitty calls you mighty mouse
And, no, he wouldn't say that
He made us read A Doll's House
And thinks that you are PHAT
You like my ring tone and I like you
We're the same size so we can trade shoes.

In no particular order...

10. Finding Hogwarts is Home
9. Becoming a Theatre major
8. Meeting Drakie
7. Giving Drakie her Christmas gift. Let it be known corky_dork takes care of her bitches, dammit.
6. Michelle becoming my sometimes girlfriend (in order to make Jesus-Man yell out that we're all whores and crack addicts and fornicators.)
5. Getting a job as a (fake) barista.
4. Seeing Jack's Mannequin live. Up close. We're talking, like, right directly up front.
3. Meeting Mike (Treaty of Paris), getting a hug from him after their set, and him spontaneously handing me the set list. And having a conversation about his badass jacket.
2. Meeting probably drunk!Jonathan and getting surprise!Bearhug from him.
1. MOLESTING MEETING ANDREW MCMAHON.

Despite being in no particular order, my number one moment is actually my number one moment.

Not really a "holiday" story...bit of a holiday for us dorks, but not truly. Whatever. It's a travel story.

So, some friends and I are losers who went to A-Kon 19, right? Everything's hunky dorky the way there (other than getting lost courtesy of MapQuest forgetting a vital step) and during our stay. On the way home, though, we notice my Check Engine light is on. Weird. We pull over and see that my engine is overheated to a point of insanity. Turns out my coolant tank is bone freaking dry. So we get back on the interstate and are looking for an exit so we can get a temporary fix. First exit we see, we take. Middle of nowhere, I swear it. We must have been driving and seeing nothing but trees for a good five to ten minutes until...

"Oh my god!"
"Was that a deer?!"

Everyone watches the deer shoot across the (empty save for us) street. We look back to the road and...

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Another deer sprints out in front of us. Fun. So we get to a store, finally, and fill the tank with water to last us the trip home. We had to stop every once in a while to let the engine cool or top off the tank, but, long story short (too late!), we turned a seven hour drive into a ten or eleven hour drive in the dead of night. Fantastic.

Base: wicked_visions

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No Quote of the Day. My Roxys are dead and I'm sad about it, so this is my mourning. They were the only shoes I liked. I can't find another pair like them anywhere.

Edit: Hoshit that "only shoes I liked" line made me sound like a loser.


Dear Louisiana Weather,

       STOP FAILING SO HARD.

Signed,
Kelley

So, as everyone ever in the history of the world knows, I fail at making things and having money. So, rather than do the geeky thing I want to do and go to cons decked out in costumes not held together by hope and my friend's attempts to use the Force, I try to use free secondhand clothes and, if my budget allows it, clothing from Goodwill to piece together outfits inspired by characters. I only had the Mad Hatter inspired set done, though, for a while, which was fine since I'm obsessed with the hat I made for it.

Wednesday, I finally finished the Mock Turtle and I think it wins. I fail at teardrops on my face, though. D8

I don't think I'll be wearing it much, since it involves heels (actually, those shoes are something I need to change. I need to get those same boots in brown... =|), but I'm still happier than I should be about it.

Quote of the Day: "I took my last immunosuppressive dose of Cyclosporin with a shot of Jägermeister. I did it with my middle finger in the air, as well."

*knocks History exam to its knees* YOUR NAME IS BITCH AND I OWN YOU. What now?!

...I passed my History exam. Well, an 84's not bad for sleeping through three of the lectures and not studying the parts I was awake for.

Okay, speaking of bitches, one of my roommates is on the fucken rampage because someone tagged her car. They wrote "PT" in glass chalk on her rear window and, the way she said it, I thought it was supposed to, like, stand for something mean or something, so I stared at her for a moment (I mean, I was an innocent fucken bystander. I just left my room to get my apple juice) and then asked what it meant.

"Because it's a PT Cruiser..."
"...oh..." That's why you're upset? Srsly? That's the story you want to stick with?

Welcome to college, kid. People play pranks and, face it, this one was harmless. Get a wet rag and wipe it off if it bugs you. Really. You don't need an entire bucket.

And before I'm reprimanded for sounding all high and mighty or something, my car was tagged, too. Most cars I saw today were. My window horizontal to the driver's seat has "XOXO" written in blue on it. I have more reason to be upset about it than her, too. I've had that car for almost two years and I washed it for the FIRST TIME last weekend. And, of course, the one time I clean it, someone feels the need to write on it. But I'm not angry, because it was a harmless prank.

Thank you, glass chalk taggers, for not putting sugar in my gas tank or a potato in my tailpipe or whatever.