dramaturgy: ([AI] We are the waiting.)
I wish my teacher wouldn’t say things like “Work on that internship.” Because when he says that, I hear an implied accusation that I haven’t been working on it. That it doesn’t worry me, or put holes in my stomach, or make me lay awake at night in anxiety. It’s the same thing I hear whenever conservative douchenozzles give the “Bootstraps!” condescending bullshit. The implication that my best is not good enough and it’s my fault because I haven’t looked hard enough. I can’t make people give me an interview, and I can’t make people hire me.

I’m sure he doesn’t mean for it to sound like that, at least that is what I am choosing to believe. I’m certain the damage is all mine, but it is still… my damage.

Whatever, Liz. No1curr.
dramaturgy: ([Sherlock] Hng.)
I should be finishing my thesis.

but I’m not.

I’m on page twenty-five of about forty and I just. My brain. pffffffffffft

I mean I’m not actually going to finish my degree this semester because I haven’t had a professional internship.

so I’m kind of like what’s the point.

dramaturgy: ([BSG] Gaius is working hard.)
I think I'm starting to teach [livejournal.com profile] angevin2's students. I definitely just read a production critique that was supposed to be of my production of the play Spring Awakening which went up last month. Except she definitely summarizes the musical and doesn't give any salient details of the actual show including actor names or anything. They mostly talk about how the musical acts were omitted and how we had a minimalist production. Basically nothing she couldn't have gotten from a friend who went to see it and a little Googling.

*facepalm*

ETA: Yeah, so the highlight of that critique was when she claimed that Wendla was unknowingly pushed into an abortion (true) and then died due to amnesia (I think you mean anemia sweetheart, and, no, false). She got a 15/100 because her mechanics were passable enough to get her 5/10 and since she did actually break it up into paragraphs I gave her 10/30 on the structure part of the rubric.

Between this one and the girl who basically claimed that The Vagina Monologues were too feminist and made men look like the bad guys (those poor men) I am just ready to give up, give everyone else 85/100, and call it a day because what if those aren't the worst things I read. What if. THERE IS ONLY SO MUCH VODKA I CAN DRINK.

What if.
dramaturgy: ([S-M] Arachne.)
Theatre meeeeeme.

List the last 10 things you saw at the theatre in order:

1. Mary Poppins (Broadway)
2. Richard III (BAM)
3. Seminar (Broadway)
4. On A Clear Day You Can See Forever (Broadway)
5. Asuncion (Off-Broadway)
6. Dead Man's Cell Phone (SBU)
7. Sleep No More (NYC)
8. The Threepenny Opera (Broadway)
9. Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark (Broadway)
10. Catch Me If You Can (Broadway)

Meme. )
dramaturgy: (Default)
01. Post ten of any pictures currently on your hard drive that you think are self-expressive.
02. NO CAPTIONS! It must be like we're speaking with images and we have to interpret your visual language just like we have to interpret your words.
03. They must ALREADY be on your hard drive -- no googling or flickr! They have to have been saved to your folders sometime in the past. They must be something you've saved there because it resonated with you for some reason.
04. You do NOT have to answer any questions about any of your pictures if you don't want to. You can make them as mysterious as you like. Or you can explain them away as much as you like

Meme. )
dramaturgy: ([SA] Wanting to feel)
Well, Spring Awakening is now over.

I think it went well. I had some very talented cast members and some great support.

And now I have to sit down, figure out what it all means, and write my thesis.

I think what I've learned most is that if I want to direct, I have to actually work for someone who does it and is perhaps willing to teach me the craft instead of just throw a Mikhail Chekhov book at me and expect me to "get" it.

Oh well. Win some, and all that.
dramaturgy: ([Sherlock] Legs.)
It's been ages since I've updated. Last semester of school, blah blah blah. Spring Awakening has been eating my time but since we open tomorrow I'm going to have to go back to old methods of procrastinating on my thesis. And LJ will undoubtedly be among them.

I also am sick of talking about internships and how I don't have one, and so on, and how every time I'm turned down for one I spend the next two days in bed with no self esteem what so ever. So there is that.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Castiel/Anna.)
I'm leaving to go back to New York tomorrow, for my last semester of grad school. I'm depending heavily on the kindness and good humor of God for the next four or five months to go at all well for me, but... it's just a lot to think about.

Whatever.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] I have no idea what is going on.)
Ugh.

I am too wound up to sleep. My semester is done (save for grading students' tests and things), and tomorrow I have an interview at the Cherry Lane Theatre. I am hoping and praying that this third time is a charm, because it would be really grand not to have to stress about finding an internship all the way from Iowa. On the other hand I also start home tomorrow so if I bomb it, I have about sixteen hours to think that over.

I feel like I may as well start in now for all the rest I'm going to get.

If you think about it around 12:45 EST, keep your fingers crossed for me. I really, really want this internship and I believe if I'm supposed to have it then I will, but that doesn't mean I can't use a little extra cheerleading in my corner.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] You watch us run.)
Title: You Can't Carry it With You If You Want to Survive
Characters/Pairings: Melody Pond/River Song, the Eleventh Doctor, OCs. Amy makes a brief appearance.
Word Count: 10,963.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Melody Pond was born and raised to take the Doctor's life, and now she's saved it -- not only saved it but reversed death with her own regenerations. She can't go back to where she was, but she's not sure that she can go forward. Behind her is Melody and the Silence who have made her into the perfect weapon and are now chasing after her, and in front of her is the mad, impossible Doctor who knows a woman with her face named River Song.
Author's Notes: This has been a [livejournal.com profile] journeystory Big Bang production! Well. It is by the far the longest thing I've ever written by myself (fiction-wise) and I quite like it. I hope you do too. This takes place after "Let's Kill Hitler" for River, and "Closing Time" for the Doctor.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Doctor Who. If I did I would stop killing Rory.

Special Announcement: As part of the challenge, [livejournal.com profile] elvira_was_here did some awesome digital art for the story. I encourage you to go tell her how awesome it is either at this link here or by clicking on either the banner or the art piece. Because they really are beautiful.



''You made a choice when you walked out of the hospital -- you gave the poor sisters a collective heart attack, you know, it's a good thing they're all medical professionals; you made another one just now by coming with me, and if the movement in your hand is any indication, you are currently making the conscious choice to not shoot me where I stand.'' He paused. ''Thank you, by the way.'' )
dramaturgy: ([AI] I amount to nothing.)
I live in New York. My family lives in Iowa. I am in my last year of grad school, and being able to go home for my winter break (December 15-January 23) is important to me. Like, it is actually beyond important right now, for my mental health. I'm not even kidding when I tell you that I've spent so much time in student health this week that the girl at the desk on the second floor (Psychological Health Services) knows me on sight. Long story short, my anxiety finally got the better of me, and I broke down a bit.

Now for the retail job. I work at New Army, that clothing retailer famous for their dirt cheap flip flops, performance fleece, and fuck knows what else. I spoke to my manager all the way back in mid-October about being able to go home for this sixish weeks. There was much hemming and hawing about, "Oh, well, it depends on what kind of holiday hires we can get, when I can let you go, etc. etc." So I figure, whatever. I don't care if I don't get to leave right on the 15th. I drive back (cheaper than flying and when I get there I have my own wheels!) so I have some freedom there. I just want to be home in time for Christmas Eve, which would probably mean the 22nd at the latest (although I would obviously prefer earlier). I told her no problem, see what they could come up with, she would try, and I'd hear from her about mid-November.

Needless to say, mid-November came and went and I heard nothing. So I called this morning to check, and her answer? "December 24th."

I was speechless. I literally did not know what to say to that. I reminded her about my school break and how my family doesn't freaking LIVE HERE, and she maintained. Like, I get it. She has to look out for the company and make sure there are enough people to cover everything -- this has been an ongoing struggle since we went Project One back in September. I reminded her about my school break, and it seemed like this was the first time I told her. She's a busy person with a lot on her mind, but I have a freakish memory for detail and... I guess I'm just slightly baffled when things like that slip with other people.

So I get off the phone because fuck I don't know what else to say, and I realize that I won't be even LEAVING for home until the 24th, and I have no confidence whatsoever that I will get all the time in January. Or even once I come back, time for the production I'm directing, time to write my thesis, time for my professional internship. And if I were working an amount of time that would make it worth staying, I probably would, without complaint. But I worked zero hours last week (my Black Friday midday shift got CUT. Let that sink in for a moment), zero hours this week, and I'm scheduled for four next Saturday. Admittedly, my availability isn't the greatest since I have school and I teach, but there are three ENTIRE days where I'm open, and a couple evenings as well.

When it comes to it, I am considering quitting. Because frankly, the fewer stressors I have in my life the better off I'll be, and I need time away from here more than I need anything else. At the same time I'm one of those people who doesn't like to abandon a sinking ship. I will feel bad if I decide to quit and I will probably even cry when I do it, but I know that I have to look out for me. I still feel bad. My head is going to explode from the conflicting logic and feelings.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] Dressing for battle.)
Ugh. This week has been a waste.

I left my kids in class like thirty-five minutes left in class because they weren't discussing shit. I don't get it. We had another awful discussion for Ghosts, Mother Courage and Her Children went really well, and then Next to Normal was okay. If they didn't read that was their own fault, but if it's mine, I just don't know what to do. hnnnnngh. I just packed up my shit and asked if they had any questions. Nobody raised a hand or anything so I said, "I'll take that as a no. I'll see you Monday."

I just don't have the energy to drive the discussion bus all by myself today. By the time I got home I had an e-mail from a student saying she felt bad about how class ended (good, they all should) and it's not my fault, that no one speaks up in any of her classes and mostly TAs just call on people from the attendance list until someone answers. I don't WANT to be that kind of teacher.

I guess I have seen too many movies. Because I thought I could beat the system and be a good teacher. But teaching is more like throwing spaghetti at a wall... you hope something sticks. And I thought I could be that person who got jobs because SHE was good enough, not because someone she knew made a phone call.

Yeah. Definitely too many movies.
dramaturgy: (Default)




And, when my mother asked for prayers for universal safety on her Facebook, explicitly saying she wasn't looking for debate:



I don't know. I just can't anymore.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] I'm sorry.)
I don't want to do anything but lay in bed. I don't even want to read or watch TV or listen to music while I do this. I just want to lay in bed and not do anything.

I recognize this for what it is. Winter coming on always makes my depression worse. I know what it is so I should be able to combat it. But I don't want to. I just want to lay in bed and not think about anything. I should care that I have three major writing projects. I should take care not to doze because I have to work tomorrow.

But I just don't give a shit.

My mother wants a Christmas list so she can give it to family and the only thing I want is to not be sick like this anymore.
dramaturgy: ([S-M] The suit.)
I'm feeling really cheated of the educational experience I expected lately. I give Stonybrook a D.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] Taking care of Idris.)
Today I had to become that person. The car of one of my roommates was parked behind mine blocking me from getting out. Again. This is the third time in like two weeks. So not only does this seem like common courtesy, but there is a large public parking lot right across the road, but when I did it for like TWO MINUTES (seriously -- I stopped by my house between school and work to change my shirt. I didn't even turn my car off!) I had a talking-to when I got back waiting for me. "Don't park behind cars! Park across the street!" Fine. Whatever.

So today I had to become that roommate, the one who leaves passive-aggressive notes on car windshields. Considering I was seriously thinking about just vomiting on the windshield instead, I think I showed remarkable restraint. (Stomach flu = less tolerance for bullshit than usual!)

Anything I want to say just leads to more politically incorrect racist things, so I will stop there. I became that person today. I did not rise above. But if it stops them from being a dick and parking behind me, I can't make myself care.
dramaturgy: ([Celebs] Hello ladies.)
Little known fact: my best friend [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory and Matt Smith share the same birthday. The more you know!

You, um... you may just want to let this post load before you try and view it. I may have gotten a little carried away.



HELLOOOOOOOOOO STONEHENGE! )
dramaturgy: ([Misc] Love Me Chase Me.)
I feel so stupid. Like I used to whenever my sister started picking up something I loved to do, and I'm resisting the urge to drop it like I did then. Except now instead of it being macrame and dance classes, it's activism. Fuck. I'm a bad person.

This is why we can't have nice things, Liz.

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