Stress: the symptom of school

Tomorrow I have to clean the theatre. At 9 o'clock. Doesn't sound bad? Well, it wouldn't be bad if I hadn't been waking up at 8 every morning and going to bed past 12 every night. It's wearing me out. Then I might have a few moments to myself to shower and then I have to make an appearance at a party so I don't seem like a recluse. It's Saturday and there's no sleeping in.

This is a terrible way to introduce you into my life on a college campus. To begin: I've moved in. Made some fun friends (June, Kacey, Lindsey, Jaspen, Adam, Rob). Made some annoying enemies (Dr. Proctor, for example). I'm already stressed out. I've been thrown into the theatre world with full force and my school work was thrown with just as much speed. I started classes yesterday and I already have a book to read, spanish homework, work study in the theatre, a member of Blue Masque, doing wardrobe for Lockerbie, doing multi-media for 6330, and building for Urinetown. My life, as I know it, is over. And on top of it all I have to eat and try to be social. There have already been a few event and party invites. I don't know how I'm going to survive.

Since it's late, I'm going to stop there and, in the mean time, come up with a few constructive sentences and keep all you crazy kids updated. 

Carmen.

Nothing.

I'm so freaking cold. In my house, the normal temperature is a few differing from the outside. So, lately, its been 90 outside, and 85 inside. Maybe I'm exaggerating the innards temperature but that's how it goes; it's a little too warm for it to be comfortable. But tonight it's cold. Outside, it's lovely. It's the perfect summer night weather. What I'm trying to say, is that it's way to cold in this house. Geez, I just wasted so many words. I apologize.

Maybe I should be sleeping. I haven't been getting to bed 'til the A.M.'s lately and, in the long run, my body and mind won't appreciate it. Last night I didn't get home until two and didn't get to bed until three. It isn't healthy. But I was up late for a good reason. I went on a picnic. I feasted on crackers, cheese, and cherry limeade with my lovely friend, Heather. It was terrific. Picnic'ing during the summer at an unreasonable hour is something that everyone should experience at least once. We were even blessed with a summer rain that chased us to an awning and under a blanket.

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. 

Can you speak 6 languages?

Carmen.

Dear Diary,

I'm leaving fairly soon for school and I'm excited to the thousandth degree. Currently, to prepare myself, I'm listening to some perfectly perfect music and checking facebook. I know I should be A) doing laundry, B) cleaning my room, C) packing, D) sleeping, or E) all of the above. I just can't resist the urge to drain my battery, both physically and computerly. 

Genette is doing a better job of doing what needs to be done. She has boxes piled in the hallway, on the steps, in the front room, in the kitchen, on the dining room table... Well, maybe it's not that bad, but I have to maneuver my body in an unnatural way to gain access to the bathroom. It's to be expected, though. I mean, its got to be hard transporting 24 years from one state to another. It's strange that she's moving. I'm not sure that I like it. When she stayed at school I was guaranteed visitation on breaks and during the summer, but she'll be in Virginia year long. Mom wants her to visit every 3 months, but I don't know if that'll happen. I might have to twist her arm to come home for my birthday. Tomorrow she leaves.

Oh... my birthday... the day I turn old...

When did I grow up? I mean, really. Geez... It kind of freaks me out. Scratch that-- it really freaks me out. My reasoning is kind of morbid, so I won't go into it, but... Ugh. I don't want to grow up anymore. I remember, when I was younger, thinking that those college kids were so cool, and so mature. Now that I'm here, I don't feel cool and my maturity is seriously lacking. Now I'm wondering if kids think that I'm cool and mature-- I don't think it's possible. I've never felt more unsure than I do at this point in my life. Will I always feel like this? The older you get, the more you realize that insecurities never leave even if your physical self ages. This is depressing.

Right now the thing that freaks me out the most is my brother. He has this girlfriend. They're pretty serious. Marriage keeps coming up. 9/9/09 keeps coming up. WHAT?!?!?! Bryon is 21. A year from now he could be married? If my brother is thinking about marriage at 21, that's just one year from where I am right now. That could be me. Just thinking about it gives me heart palpitations. Hah. That doesn't sound healthy, but it's the truth. Maybe I have a fear of commitment/the future. He's just so young... and a year is so soon... I could never imagine that. I'm going to finish school before I even pretend to think about marriage.

Marriage is a big deal. It's a commitment for the rest of one life to be with another, and that is huge. So, I'm willing to take my time. Feeling as unsure and immature as I do now, how am I supposed to know who I'm going to stay with forever? It's strange because I know a lot of people my age getting married. Actually, one got married today. Really, I don't think it's normal how much marriage freaks me out.

I'm going to stop talking about this. I'm exhausted and I don't want to have nightmares.

Carmen.

*Edit.

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." C.S. Lewis

When did we grow up? I mean, yesterday we were playing that game where we tried to poke each others' eyes out and now you want to get married? 

....how does that happen?

Spring Awakening is a delight. Brilliant. 

Carmen.

Father of mine.

The Lord of the Rings. I watch it maybe once a year. Maybe. When I do watch it it's always with my dad. My dad and I have the best kind of relationship. We share an understanding that isn't shared with my brother or sister. To be honest, I don't even know what that understanding is, but I enjoy it. I guess this understanding is what bonds us together. We watch Jurassic Park occasionally too, more than Lord of the Rings. I love watching it. Go ahead and brand a L on my forehead, I don't care. Its become sort of a running joke between us. If we ever want to spend time together we always watch Jurassic Park.

I like my dad because we don't have to talk. If I were watching Jurassic Park with my mom, she would inevitably start talking to me because she's seen it many times and I'm sure she's bored with it. Car rides are the same. I rarely like to talk and drive. I mean, if I'm riding along with someone I'd rather be silent. Even with my friends, I will fall silent and won't even realize it-- sometimes I have to try to make conversation when outside of the car conversation falls from my lips very easily. My life isn't that interesting and I don't really have much to share. I tell my mom this frequently and yet, if I ever get in the car with her the questions never stop and then she gets upset because I don't want to answer these questions. I just don't like to talk in the car. I think I get this from my dad. Whenever I ride with him there is always silence. Usually.

My father doesn't have much of a sense of humor. I mean, he can't really deliver a joke and when he does it's always cheesy. He gets this goofy grin on his face and I love this. I rag on him, he'll try to rag on me, and this is another sort of understanding we share. I also have this habit of getting my way when I'm with him. My family is under the impression that he spoils me-- and maybe this is true-- but it's that understanding that we have. Since I'm the youngest, my brother and sister were allowed to do things that youngsters weren't allowed to participate in. So they went on trips, accompanied by my mother, while I stayed home with my dad for part of the time and at a friends house while he was at work. He and I might go out for pizza, maybe get some ice cream-- and in my family this would be seen as getting spoiled-- but then again, everyone else was in Chicago or Ecuador, what else were we to do? To be honest, half the time it wasn't even my idea. I think my dad likes to spoil people-- I just so happen to be the one that's usually around.

Don't get me wrong, we have had our blow outs. Yelling matches at times. When I was younger, he would yell and I would cry. In my adolescence, he would yell and I would cry/yell back. This is something, however, that I appreciate: his fighting style. He and I could have a knock down, drag out fight and the next day it's over. Life is back to normal. Maybe this isn't healthy but I prefer it than sitting down and having a 2 hour conversation about our feelings. Because, usually, at the time, whatever we were arguing about was important, but when the next day rolls around, whatever we had yelled over didn't seem too important (it's true. It was normally about the state of my room or the candy wrappers that I left on the floor). 

He's quirky in the best ways and I enjoy him a lot. I hope he sticks around for a long while.

Carmen.

[*This blog is not what I had intended it to be at all. I started writing about one thing, but then this is what happened. I know it's random but I like the way it turned out.*]

Mm Bop to Deep Inside of You

Despite what the blogger tells you, it's actually 12:09am. And despite my usual "go get 'em" attitude at this hour, I'm exhausted. I bought a mac yesterday and, if you had been here, you would have witnessed awesome amounts of music loading. Maybe it's sad, but that's where my concern is before I leave for school. I'll be honest, though, all the Cd's I have=lame. I mean, there have been a few I've invested in recently (Across the Universe, Wicked, Rent... uh, is there a theme?) but most of my tunes I have lodged on the Dell downstairs--which is going to take a few hours to transport to the mac. So, as I'm going through my CD case, full of female christian artists and christian "rock" music from back in the day when I didn't have a clue about music, I feel as though I have grown. How does one go from Jaci Velasquez to As Cities Burn? I really don't know.

This blast from the past is slightly hilarious. Uh, Hansen. The Princess Diaries soundtrack. Avalon. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I still own these Cd's. But I feel they have made me a better person. The benefits to owning a crappy collection of music? 1. It shows growth. It shows you where I've started-- I mean, my taste could only get better. 2. If I ever need a Frisbee, I'll never have to look beyond my music collection. 3. I honestly can appreciate all types of music. I know the Christian, screamo, rock, country, punk, metal, oldies, jazz scene-- when one starts at the bottom, they have to experience everything to get to what actual music is. I didn't know what I liked, so I had to listen to everything. 4. I can look back to the days of my adolescence. It's kind of nice remembering I was a kid once.

So far the music I have on my beautiful computer is a variety of Cd's I've gotten through the ages. Lots of musicals (mentioned above), Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Beatles, classics from 1969, lovedrug, Simon and Garfunkel, Santana... What's to come? Coldplay, Train, Third Eye Blind, Chiodos, John Mayer, Dashboard Confessional, Haste the Day, Hillsong, Underoath, The Almost... And I only have two weeks to get it all together.


Goodnight, sleep well, and dream of very large women.

Carmen.