It’s Becoming A Monthly Thing

It's very interesting to me that the less I write, the less I have to talk about.
Instead of wanting to write something meaningful, I feel the need to update on what's going on in my life, which is not all that significant, as nothing has really changed. I'm still working, still existing, and still going to school.
Though I suppose I do want to talk about the past and what it can do.
I've noticed that, for some reason or another, people are bothered by their pasts.
It seems that events that have happened previously that can never be redone somehow alter what we feel and what we do in the present and future.
With a few exceptions, one of which being trauma, this is rather silly.
The sheer fact that the past is over with means that we should not dote or dwell on it.
Naturally, I'm one to talk. I, too, possess a past, and it does take power over me from time to time.
I'm just saying it shouldn't.
Maybe I'm just trying to encourage myself about this issue.
Actually, that's part of the reason I've written so many blogs. More times than not I've been trying to reassure myself, or tell myself something that I need to keep in mind, like not eat so much watermelon before bed (that information saved me more than once!).
No, it's a bit of both. Telling others as well as myself.
Anyway, that doesn't matter.
Uh... hold on...
Pasts, right.
Actually, I could go on a huge tangent about something else.
I think I'll do that.
I realized quite some time ago that each person's life is like their own personal movie.
Some people have Action movies, others Romance, some Chick Flicks, some have Really Boring or Really Typical movies, and so forth. (I'm sure there's a survey about "What Kind Of Movie Is You?" out there that'll tell you what you are, but remember that surveys don't know you as well as you do or as well as you think you know you. That sentence did make sense, I think.)
Discoving what kind of movie you are may open your eyes to how you behave or how things go around you.
For instance, I believe that I am a Emotional Comedic Romance movie. (NO EMO MOVIE JOKES.)
I think this a fairly accurate guesstimation.
I realize that I'm slightly more on the romantic side but with plenty of varying emotions and comedy to go around.
Don't know about you, but that really does make me think twice about how I act.
I'll talk about pasts more later.
Meaning probably never.

2:57 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Metamorphosis: Not Just For Tadpoles and Caterpillars

I am currently in a state of what is known as "sadness."
Driving home today made me this way as I thought far too much about life, my parents, college, and how I'm currently heading absolutely nowhere. The only thing I have going for me is intention, yet no action has yet spawned from this (hence why I went to Gavilan for two years).
These feelings are no surprise to me.
I'm at the age where I'm transitioning from a suicidal hormone-driven identity crisis waiting to happen to a suicidal monetary-driven mid-life crisis waiting to happen.
Funny how that works.
I'm worried about what's going to happen to me. Pretty typical thing to do for humans, as I believe that they are the only ones capable of paranoia (unless there are things about animals we do not understand, such as turkeys being able to do long division, which is likely).
Specifically, I have no idea if I can get into the college I want to, but I'm scared to apply and find out.
I have no idea how I'm going to get into the career I want, but I'm scared to look up the basics.
Why?
The ignorance inside me says that my life will be handed down to me. Someone'll tell me how to succeed in my career and how to get into college.
I guess I'm afraid to do things myself out of fear of failure.
I have no problems trying things myself when they don't matter, such as games, but I am always reluctant to do something when it involves the possibility of changing something for the worse.
Of course, this is silly.
Basically everything I do could turn out for the worse. Something innocent like down a street could be a mistake because it happened to have the drunk driver on it that runs me over.
Logically, I shouldn't worry about things like that.
However, this is my future, and my body does not agree with my thoughts. My body considers it a much more important risk and thereby decides to take it on me by making me sad.
What my body does not realize is that this is not helping me, but merely hindering further action.
I'd love to be laughing, joking, and having fun right now, but I simply don't feel like it.
Maybe I need sleep.
I think I'll go do that.

7:31 AM - 6 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I Must Be Getting Old

How fascinating these "responsibilities" are.
Never really had them before, due to the fact that I had much less to worry about before I was 18.
I've grown out of the phase where everything is handed to me and all that is expected of me is to go to school.
Now I'm in that phase that parents and people who sound intellectual call Growing Up.
Supposedly, people at my age are discovering and finalizing their identity so they can progress with their jobs/careers and live their lives in the ever-forgiving happy-go-lucky society we live in.
Or they're out partying.
I'm not really doing either of those two.
I'm more drifting into nowhere because I haven't got a future planned.
What I'd like to have is a job as a voice actor for some big ol' company like Disney so I can do voices for movies, television, commercials, or whatever comes my way.
I'm not working toward that, though.
I know that starting my path to Adulterhoodness would result in me not having nearly as much fun as I am now.
And that sucks.
However, I suppose I could make good out of it. As long as I maintain connections with friends and have fun with searching for voice actor work, I may be able to be happy.
Hm... worth a shot.
I feel like I'm learning more and more with the passing months.
I haven't learned much from Gavilan (no surprise), but I have been learning from my experiences.
I've learned more about what I believe are the true values of life, which, as corny as it sounds, are friends and care.
It hit me how far I've come when I was driving the other day. I was dressed nice for some shows I was going to see, and I saw children walking home from school down the hill I used to walk on. I imagined how many times I would go up and down that hill every day to get to school, and realized that those days were many years behind me. I was now driving myself places, earning my own money, and making my own decisions.
It's a little scary if you think about it.
Though, I suppose it's only natural.
Life isn't meant to be scary. It's just meant to be a lot of work.

3:34 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Existence, Life, and Pringles

Hi.
It's been a while.
You look nice. New haircut?
Me? Oh, I'm all right.
What? The subject? Why is it different, you don't ask?
Well, it's quite simple.
I ran out of music.
Yes, I have no more lyrics to put up. Every possible lyric has been used.
Which means there should be change, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.
People view change as negative, while it's probably the only true natural thing about this planet.
Okay, I lied. I could put up a lyric that would fit pretty well with that. "Everything changes, even change."
But, no, I chose my subject and I'm sticking with it.
Anyway.
I've been hit quite a bit of reality.
But Drew! What IS reality?
I'm not really sure, but it sure hit me hard.
I haven't been writing as much as I used to due to the fact that I've been busier with life than I ever have been before with shows, jobs, school, and maintaining my own personal health, happiness, and sanity.
This also means that I have quite a few stories to tell.
I have a job now. This is a first for Drewsepherbertble as he has yet to ever earn a steady income for himself.
Naturally, I've learned from this job. What I've learned are namely the facts that jobs are extremely draining in both emotion and body and the fact that a level of maturity and adultness must be maintained in order to properly perform in the tasks given in the course of occupation.
In short, jobs suck, but I shouldn't be such a wuss about it.
I've noticed the other employees in my area, and found that, while they do their jobs, most do not perform to their best (neither do I). I've looked at some of the managers of the park and noticed the work ethic they show compared to the common employee. The managers are there for a reason; they show both duty and enthusiasm in their line of work.
It's made me realize what makes people successful. Being lazy and mopey won't get the promotions, but showing energy, perseverance, and communicating efficiently will make the grade (or, rather, the job).
Enough about that.
Onto a more interesting story.
As little known, I was in Little Shop of Horrors with SVCT over the course of the last few months. It ended not long ago, but I still have times when I find myself reciting songs or playing over scenes in my mind.
Based on the reviews, it was an incredible show. Audience members and cast members alike said it was the greatest show that they have ever seen SVCT put on. Because I haven't seen many of the SVCT shows (saw one and been involved with the rest), I can't truly judge whether the show was that good or not, but I am able to say with confidence that we put on a pretty damn good show.
I'm not proud of it, but I got pneumonia just before opening weekend of Little Shop. I was unable to attend the final dress rehearsal due to the fact that I went home after I was in the lobby shivering and throwing up.
Had I described all my symptoms immediately, I would have been cared for sooner. I described all my symptoms to others except one key detail; there was a sharp pain in my right chest area, as if one of my ribs was stabbing through my lung. Should I have told someone this, I would have immediately been told that I have pneumonia and should be sent to the hospital.
Well, since that didn't happen, I was sick for another five days before getting hospitalization. My parents, at first, figured that I had a bad virus and that a doctor wouldn't be able to do anything for me. However, after seeing that I had about 104 tempurature for five days straight and calling a doctor for advice, they finally decided, and I quote them exactly, "Maybe we should take you to the doctor."
Maybe.
Just maybe.
I had friends that already had plans to kidnap me and take me to the doctor before my parents finally decided to bring me in.
I was sent to the hospital the very day my parents considered taking me to the doctor.
It was a very interesting experience in there, and this is what I found.
You're extremely helpless when in a hospital. (At least in the condition I was in. I couldn't eat and could barely walk.) Any and all attempts to help someone on the outside world are very unlikely to be helpful.
Hospitals have a wide variety of people. There was a lady not too far from my bedroom that continuously screamed for help and then hit nurses when they tried to help. I remember one night when she cried, "Help! Help me! Help!"
Another voice said, "Don't hit!"
"I'll hit if I want to!" she yelled.
Good times. Made me smile.
One part I particularly didn't enjoy about my Happy Fun Time Hospital Adventure was getting stabbed with pointy needle-like objects. Because of my illness, I was prone to getting my blood drained every morning for the sole purpose of either making sure I'm healthy or to make me have a total case of the willies from the needles. The latter seems much more likely, as there were a few times when they didn't take enough blood from me and had to stab me with another syringe to draw more. They smiled as they tried to comfort me and tell me that it's okay, so I knew of their true intentions. Sickos.
As if the IV in my arm wasn't bad enough. I still think it's in there sometimes, and only until a few weeks ago did I stop smelling the hospital stench on myself.
Overall, I learned a valuable lesson.
DON'T GET SICK.
Out of the hospital and into the theatre!
I jumped right back into performing after I was out, but my parents did not like this. As a matter of fact, they didn't like it so much that they were not going to allow me to go. I'm sure they would have, except that I snuck out and stayed a friend's house so I would be able to go. My parents later called me after finding a note I left them on my pillow about how I make my own decisions. They told me that if I truly wanted to go, they wouldn't stop me. Thanks, mom and dad, for supporting my decision only after I disobeyed, but these words were too late, as I was already gone.
Let's stop there a moment.
Before this ever happened, I was the type of child to always bend to the will of my parents. If they asked me to do or not do something, I would do it. However, now that I am over eighteen and able to make decisions on my own, my parents possess less power over me. I did not actually disobey them at first, I was going to stay home from the show. Later the night when I had the argument with my parents about this, I was given some advice on the topic of choice and reconsidered.
My parents have learned that they cannot control me, though I know in my heart that they still wish to. If they had the power, they would narrate my entire life. I'm the last child of three, and the duty of doing what my parents believe is right is left on my shoulders. My parents were not able to control my brother and sister the way they want to control me, so they feel that they must stop me from making any mistakes that may come into my life so they feel they're not failures as parents. What they don't realize is that I have to make decisions on my own, and that's exactly what I'm going to do whether they like it or not.
As parents, I would hope that they would support any decision I make, but it does not seem like that is the case. I wonder if it ever will.
Back to the show.
While my lungs were scarred by the pneumonia, I was still able to sing my part and do a semi-decent job of it. I'm proud of myself for what I was able to emote to the audience, I just hope they felt what I did. I'm proud of everyone involved with the show, both on stage and off.
I'd like to say I've grown up much since my last blog, but I don't think I have. What I have done is learned how to be more adult, and now I simply need to practice being this way.
Who knows? Maybe some day I'll actually be an adult.
That should be fun.
WILL DREW SURVIVE THE BURNING BLIMP HEADING TOWARDS HIM?
WILL THERE BE ENOUGH ICE CREAM LAUNCHED INTO THE SUN BEFORE IT MELTS?
WILL TIMMY EVER STOP FALLING INTO WELLS?
TUNE INTO THE NEXT EPISODE TO FIND OUT!
I need a theme song.

9:36 PM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

"Don’t turn away..."

Growing up is interesting.
I'm not quite sure what "growing up" really means. I suppose that's part of the intrigue.
I've seen adults that aren't grown up, but what constitutes being grown up?
I've been noticing that growing up involves thinking less about one's self and more about others.
Doing things in order to support, say, a spouse or a family.
Likewise, it's possible to grow up to support yourself and only yourself, but are those people considered grown up, or just people living on their own?
Either way, it involves support.
I think support is a big part of life.
Emotional support, physical support, mental support, and support in a family/relationship sense.
Support ensures that we stay up and keep going.
When times seem most hopeless, there is always someone out there to support you.
Sweeny Todd, besides making me feel weak, showed me that. I don't know if it's true or not.
Naturally, it's important to not force anyone to support you.
I wouldn't suggest trying to turn someone into the support you need. From what I've seen in cases like that, the person needed becomes distraught, stressed, and overwhelmed. The person who's needing the other is never satisfied, constantly needing, and sometimes hostile.
Er... right. Growing up.
In our world, money is considered the main form of support.
Such is not the case.
Money is needed to survive and nothing more.
A person with a only money will survive but will not get the support needed.
I think it's part of the reason why we live. We live to support each other.
Of course, with all the wars and hate and prejudice in the world, that's kind of a hard argument to... uh... argue... for.
But, thinking on a deeper level, don't we fight in order to support something?
And the Big Wheel O' Stuff turns again.
Growing up means supporting?
Or does supporting something mean you grow up?
"What if I'M DEAD, and YOU'RE ALIVE?"
There are a lot of times when we have to do what we don't want to.
That kinda sucks.
I think there's always something we have to do that we don't want to.
For babies and toddlers, that varies from not wanting to go to bed to not wanting to eat a certain type of food and so forth.
For kids, it would be not wanting to go somewhere or not wanting to go to school. Not wanting to go to school will continue until death.
For teens, it would be staying at home while wanting to go out with friends.
For adults, it would be work.
For seniors, it would be dying. Well... dying would be a constant worry from beginning to end.
Of course, there's more than what I listed. Just giving examples.
For me, I don't want to be home or go to school.
Being at home makes me feel alone. I'm not around anyone besides my parents, which aren't much company. I get my dad coming into my room to constantly check on the internet, tell me about things I don't need or want to know about, that he recorded some show that I'll never watch, etc. I have my mom that wants me home but never seems to care if she sees me at home or not, and always comments about everything I do, seeming to never be satisfied with what I'm doing. If she could, she would have me at home all day, every day.
Being her last child living at home, I don't blame her. I'm the only child she has left that lives with her.
Here's where it all comes together.
Support.
Growing up.
Doing what we don't want to.
She needs me to support her. My presence seems to keep her happy.
Sometimes I have to do what I don't want to, such as attend dinner and be at home enough to make my mom happy.
It's a grown up thing to do. It just doesn't make me happy.
I don't feel like my mom will ever be satisfied with me. She'll keep asking me to come back and see her even when I move away. She'll want me to call and keep in touch.
Nothing she's asking is unreasonable. She's a very good person and I never think lowly of her.
But I'm afraid that I'll let her down.
I'm afraid of doing that, especially with those I'm close with.
Fear being uncertainty, I'm afraid of letting others down because I don't know what I'll do when a situation arises. I can only hope it's a good thing, one that doesn't hurt anyone.
I dislike hurting others.
I clean because cleaning doesn't hurt anyone, besides the mildew and the bacteria.
Cleaning is a productive thing to do wherein I don't have to talk to anyone to help.
Since I've been young, I've been afraid of talking because I might hurt someone. I still feel like that.
I feel like my words can destroy so much. They have before, and I'm afraid it can happen again.
I don't know what will happen, so I'm scared.
I'd never purposefully hurt someone. I'm afraid I'll say something without thinking and destroy all I have.
I don't want to lose what I have.
Thinking about loss makes me cry.
Friends, animals, family, even strangers.
Loss makes me want to cry even when it's not something I lose. Someone else's loss will make that feeling arise in me.
Sweeny Todd made me want to cry because of the loss involved with the film.
I realized that I have so much to lose. I have so much that means it all to me.
I'm afraid.

4:36 PM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

"I can’t think what it was like before..."

(Sorry if I have a lot of spelling errors, I had to reformat my computer and now I don't have any spell checkers.)
Quite frankly, I look down upon myself.
I do not think of myself as anyone of true value, of intelligent stature, or of useful purpose.
As Wise Sir Batman says, "It is not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us."
Which raises a few questions for me.
What do I do?
I'm a college student going nowhere in particular without a job that participates in non-profit theater events.
Does that sound like something smart people and/or Persons do?
From a Personish point of view, yes. Persons can do things that make them happy so long as they keep up a certain level of responsibility. (People can do this, too, but not as effectively.)
Responsibility...
That is something I haven't been paying attention to.
Instead of being the Responsible Youngest Child that I've been for the past nineteen years and that my parents ever-so-desperately want me to be for the rest of my life, I have been doing what I want instead.
This includes not being at home, going out to eat a lot, playing games with friends, hardcore shoe shopping, and drinking hot chocolate.
Instead, I should be spending less money on food and fun things, and, instead, I should be at home more often so my parents will leave me alone about what they want out of me, which is something so poorly defined that I have no chance of ever satisfying them even if I sat down and asked what they wanted out of me.
Long sentence.
However, this is something I do not want to do, which raises a problem.
Or does it?
Perhaps I'm simply creating a problem when I don't have one at all.
Why would I do something like that?
Is it something about the subconscious to create difficult situations that do not exist?
Or maybe it does exist, and I'm reacting appropriately?
WHAT IS THE TRUTH???
WILL TIMMY MAKE IT OUT OF THE WELL IN TIME TO SAVE HIS GRANDPARENTS FROM ALIENS???
STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE TO FIND OUT
Which raises another question.
What Am Intellergence?
This is something I've been thinking about for quite a long time now.
Like, a week or something.
Because I don't view myself as a Smart Dude, I'm wondering what intelligence really is.
The easiest way to find out would be to look in the dictionary.
This is how most papers start out. I feel like I'm writing a definition essay.
Anyway, this is what Ye Olde Webster says intellergenetics is:
Intelligence: Having a good understanding or a high mental capacity; quick to comprehend. Displaying quickness of understanding, sound thought, or good judgment.
I don't get it.
Something about how fast sound moves.
Hm... quicky understanding, high mental capacity...
Now, mental capacity I can see being a trait of someone intelligent, but quick understanding is not always something of intelligence.
For example, anyone can pick up how to play with a Rubik's Cube, but only a number of people know how to solve it. Even then, solving a Rubik's Cube does not make the solver intelligent; it simply means he or she can solve a Rubik's Cube.
A deep understanding of something does not always mean that the person is intelligent, as well. Writers are often seen as intelligent and sophisticated individuals, when, in reality, not all of them are. Most times writers are simply trying to make a living and writing is something they merely enjoy.
Intelligence isn't about how well you type or how smart you sound when you speak.
It isn't about how many big words you use or how much you know about something.
It's not about how fast you solve problems or how often you think about things.
It's not about perfection or getting everything right.
Great. I've listed what it is not, so what IS intelligence?
I believe it's a sort of universal understanding.
Being intellgent means you pursue knowledge and constant expansion of the mind.
It means you believe what you believe in, not necessarily what is true.
So why, then, is doing something like drinking a lot or doing drugs seen as something dumb?
It's because they shut off the mind.
Alcohol and drugs stop life's learning and turn the body into vessel of destruction inside the person, and they are destructive for others as well.
To translate: "Shiz, man, they funk you up!"
Or something.
By these means, am I intelligent, or just saying stuff that makes me sound smart when I'm really not?
Maybe everything I said here is completely false, and is true only to myself?
It all depends on what you believe.
I'm not even sure if I even believe what I say sometimes.
I'll have to think about it.

6:17 PM - 8 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

"Well, I know I’m not always right..."

The holiday season approaches, meaning people immediately must forget how to drive.
It is also finals season for us college students, meaning people must immediately forget any and all information accumulated over the years.
It's a working system, trust me.
I have now had two weeks of this "singing" and "dancing" kersperience with Scrooge, and am now casted into a show where I must do much more of it.
While I am looking forward to it, I cannot help but feel bad.
In high school, I think I subconsciously didn't try out for any of Mr. Klipstine's plays because I didn't want to take away any parts that people wanted.
Instead, I would be a tech, where there is no placement stealing (unless you're picky about which side of the stage you're on, or if you used the broom, which was my job).
Trying out for Arsenic was easy enough because nobody really wanted Dr. Einstein but me. Einstein wasn't THAT big a deal in the show, anyway, as Travis has repeatedly drilled into my brain.
However, for big number shows like Little Shop of Horrors, taking any part away from someone is taking a BIG part away.
I can't help but feel bad about it, but does that really help the situation?
Hm...
Does feeling bad about something make it better?
No, most times it does not. However, that's circumstantial.
If I were to tell someone that I felt bad that someone in their family died or something like that, that would be a case when sympathy would assist.
However, for something like losing a pencil, it doesn't really quite help.
That's interesting... feeling sorry only helps for significant situations?
Is that really true?
And what classifies something as significant?
It would have to be something worldwide, or something very personal, or something within a group of individuals that connects them.
A bowling team having a member drop out would be significant.
A bowling team losing a shoe would be insignificant (although shoes probably do help keep the team together... need to rethink this).
Not like that Drew guy.
Hey, there you go. Perfect conversation starter.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again.
I want to be old.
Not just that, I want to be old and have kids/grandkids to pass my pseudo-wisdom on to.
For one thing, I'd love to be called "Dad." I think hearing that would make me cry with happiness.
Secondly, I'd love to tell them stories.
I've lived a pretty interesting life so far, like... that one time when...
Uh...
I did...
Something...
In that one place.
Yeah.
Okay, maybe I'll have to make stuff up.
But even pretending to be old, I think that I can make up some good stories!
Still, I must wait in order to do that.
In the meantime, I'll get through school.

2:05 AM - 9 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

"Together we’ll face the turning tide..."

A number of you have not asked me questions about what is going on in my life.
So, I figured I would do you all a favor and answers these questions you're not wondering about for you.
However, due to the fact that I don't know what your questions are, I have supplied them myself in a vernacular that should be easily understood by all.
Don't thank me; it's my job.

Question: How's u doin', homie?

Answer: I've been quite fine, actually. A bit lacking in the sleep department, but I am happier than ever before. I've been busy, but consistently content. The only thing I am not pleased with is my English class for Gavilan, as it pummels me with constant busy work that teaches me nothing.

Question: Like, what's the deal, yo? U ain't been on no computer and ain't be doin' none o' dat e-mailin' stuff.

Answer: I am well aware of the lack of communication I have been delivering to others.
I regularly would log on once or twice per week; something I have never done since before I joined Myspace so many moons ago.
Such is the downfall of having absolutely no time to myself as well as lacking the desire to communicate with others.
I do not mean any harm by my silence, and I apologize for an inconvenience it may have brought.

Question: Whachoo been doin' all this time, foo?

Answer: I have been bombarded by what is called "school" as well as this crazy "theater" thing. I have been busy during all the waking hours of the past so many weeks, and I only now have a few hours to myself in between school and sleeping. This will not last long, as I plan to audition for SVCT's Little Shop of Horrors, and hoping to get a part.

Question: Theata, brotha? Whazzat?

Answer: Scrooge. It is a musical version of "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens. I had the pleasure of being the understudy for four different people, three of which I performed on the same day. It is not nearly as difficult as it sounds, as the dances are easy and the same for basically everyone in the cast, minus various Toy Ballet people.

Question: Pssh, u's in a musakal? Whateva!

Answer: Yes, I am. Last year I never would have considered singing and dancing in front of large hordes of people, but it isn't nearly as difficult as I imagined it to be. It is, in fact... fun.

Question: Wha'bout dat Litta Shop o' Whores thing?

Answer: I've listened to the soundtrack, and I adore the characters. I believe I could really have a good time if I was in Little Shop, so I'll give it a go.

Question: Fudgemonkies, mang. U's gotta chill fo' a bit.

Answer: I'm sorry?

Question: Ya feel?

Answer: Whuh?

Question: ...

Answer: ...

Question: Ya feel?

Answer: Right.

10:40 PM - 9 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

"Just look within yourself for absolution..."

So much for upping the amount I write.
I won't give any excuses, as I've had plenty of times to get on the computer and continue the on-going blabber that are my blogs.
I've been Assistant Directing a little show called Scrooge for the past number of weeks.
I've never done anything like this before, as directing during high school was the only experience I had with directing. (That doesn't even count, it was for a Drama 1 assignment. Nobody but Mr. K. and the students in the class saw it.)
Being the A.D. has definitely been... interesting.
There are a number of children in the show, and they completely made fun of me when I tried to keep them under control.
"You're the worst babysitter ever!"
"Are you ALWAYS this bad with kids?"
"Hey, it's Mr. Funny Voice Man!"
Absolutely adorable.
Anyway, I'm learning quite a bit from my experience.
I've learned the basics of directing, such as going through the entire script and picking it apart to fit every exact detail that is wanted.
Auditioning, casting, blocking, props, sets, line pronunciation, accents, lighting, sound, singing, dancing, it all plays a role in theater, but I had no idea about how it all came together.
I didn't even know the role of the producer(s) until I started working on Scrooge.
Also, I have aspirations to become a Triple Threat.
I learned of this not long ago.
What's a Triple Threat, you don't ask?
Why, quite simply, it is an actor that can sing, dance, and act well.
I've been told that I can act, so maybe that's one down.
I know I can't sing, and I've never danced before. I'll need training and experience (along with experimentation) to get better at those two.
Hm. Maybe someday.
I noticed something today before I left for school.
Interjections are very strangely and specifically used in everyday conversation.
For example, "Dude, why'd you hit me, man? God! Jesus, that hurt."
Should you take out the exclamations, you'd be left with, "Why'd you hit me? That hurt."
Now, why are those exclamations so frequently used?
Is it the ease of the words, or is it just a habit of society?
And why use religious words? It's forbidden to use the lord's name in vain, as well as Jesus, I think. I'm probably wrong about that.
I'm going to try to use different interjections just to throw in some difference in the world, as well as not offend anyone.
Words like "Buddha," (I don't think it's a sin to say Buddha's name in vain) "woman" or "female," (because it's sexist to say 'man' or 'dude' so much) "Jehova," "funking wagnels," "butterscotch," and maybe even "person."
"Aw, Buddha! My car was scratched!"
"That's awesome, female!"
"You were really something out there, butterscotch!"
It'll be great.
I've been hearing a lot about the self lately.
While I do have stuff to say about the self, I'm afraid that I may not be able to word such things in a way that makes sense to others.
If I were to simply flat-out say that bad things can happen but everything will eventually be all right as long as you keep a positive attitude, then that wouldn't make sense to anyone.
I mean, saying that you always have the power to make the most of your life just isn't sensible.
It especially doesn't make sense to state that letting your emotions hold you back from enjoying life and letting them bring you down isn't healthy or making anyone else happier.
And the fact that you should just look around you and see how good you really have it in life doesn't connect at all.
Nope, just doesn't connect. Not in the slightest.

8:47 PM - 9 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

"Just open your eyes to see that life is beautiful..."

The subject of life and its worth has been quite the popular subject for a long time - longer than I've existed, which is saying a lot, as I have existed forever.
I wonder if I can break apart this "life" thing.
I will admit from the start that I believe that life does, in fact, suck.
There's a lot of negativity in the world and the bad definitely outweighs the good. (This is part of Personism. More People than there are Persons.)
However, this also depends on the individual's view of 'good' and 'bad.'
What could be good in my life could be bad for another.
Everyone in the world has good and bad. This is inevitable.
As for the majority of the general population of the world, what is good and bad is almost exactly the same as everyone else, only with minor differences. (Most times, this is due to mass media and the projected 'happy' life that people see on televisions or hear about in stories.)
There are those with unique good and bad things in their life, and just because they are different from us, they are not wrong.
Where was I going with this?
Um...
Let's see, life sucks, good and bad stuff...
Ah, yes.
Life, with all of its suckiage and generally depressing majority of time, is also good.
Much like with many things, life is about balance, balance being a subject I have talked about a few times before.
Good and bad, right and wrong, fish and no fish. (Though life's a bummer without fish.)
There are times in life that make it all worthwhile.
There are those individual moments in life (or maybe extended moments) that make life the amazing thing that it is.
Again, this is much like Personism. While the world generally sucks, there are those individuals that make all the difference.
That's interesting. I never noticed how similar my views of life and Personism are.
Hm. Crazy.
As I may argue with you, life does take work to be good. Actually, I remember a quote I wrote about life in a blog many moons ago.
"Life isn't all bad, but it does take work to be good."
Everything that makes you happy won't be thrown at you. (That only happens sometimes, and you have to make sure you have a big enough baseball glove to catch it.)
You will have to work to be happy.
Sucks, doesn't it?
What do you work for? Where do you start? How can you get there, and how much help will you need, if any?
I firmly believe that any person can overcome anything life throws at them should they put their mind to it, unless it's something like picking up a crate that requires two people, but I'm not counting physical stuff here.
I mean emotionally and mentally. Any difficult situation can be overcome.
All you have to do is believe that you can find a way out, much like the line from Staind's song, "Falling."
"If you believe you can find a way out, then you solve your problem."
That's only partially true. Believing you can find a way out really does help, but it also requires something else.
Motivation.
I think motivation should be pretty self-explanatory.
If you're going to be happier by doing something, why hesitate?
Is it the uncertainty? Well, that would do it.
I heard once before that things never affect us as much as we believe they will.
I believe this.
I believe that we can recover from anything that happens to us.
If you know the story of my life, you would know why I think this way.
I would like to write more, but Gavilan's media lab is closing now.
Onto another day. Hope to see you there.
Life is good.

4:19 PM - 7 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

"All is good and nothingness is dead..."

Firstly and formostly, I wanted to apologize to all of you that I have normally kept regular contact with on an internetly basis.
I've been so busy as of late that I have no time for a "social life."
I'm trying to balance school, theater, sleeping, eating, personal hygene (which, surprisingly enough, can take 30 minutes a day), and my social life all at once. Sacrifices have had to be made so I can get things done; namely, I'm sacrificing talking to people.
It is nothing personal.
There are those who would argue, "Wait, Drew, how come you're writing a blog but not talking to others? You could use that time to message everyone!"
While this is true, I'm...
Uh...
Well, you've got me there.
However, in all my selfishness, I've been thinking about the name I've been called for the past so many years now: "The Enthusiastic Janitor."
I used to wonder about how valid this nickname used to be when I first got it, but I considered it more of a joke than anything.
The backstory behind it is such:
Years ago in high school, I would sweep Live Oak's theater because I wasn't a very good tech, and cleaning was probably the most productive thing for me to do aside from painting. (It was productive in the senses that people didn't have to waste days to clean up the theater/tech room and that people would have a safer, cleaner environment to work in.)
I remember a day when Natalie James, who everyone should know, went around giving people nicknames. I think this was caused by Tyler, who everyone should NOT know (kidding, Tyler), being named Pickle Man for various pickle-ish reasons.
Natalie turned to me as I was sweeping (not uncommon), thought for a moment, and decided that I should be named "The Enthusiast," for my general, everyday enthusiasm (which I lacked in every sense of the word).
I liked it because it didn't fit, but I wanted to be called "The Janitor" because it DID fit.
So, I combined them.
Now, I wonder if the name has any significance.
For instance, what am I enthusiastic about? Theater? Sweeping? Sweeping theaters?
I'm enthusiastic in what sense?
Actually, I don't think I know the full definition of enthusiastic.
Let's use the handy-dandy internet to figure this out.
Enthusiasm:
Full of or characterized by enthusiasm; ardent. Having or showing great excitement and interest.
Synonyms: eager, fervent, zealous, passionate, vehement, fervid, impassioned.
Hm... does that sound like me? I'm not sure.
Well, let's move on to the Janitor part.
As a Janitor, what do I clean, or keep clean? (Definitely not my room, that's for sure.)
Things around me? Places I go?
In a more metaphorical sense, my life? The lives of others?
Or maybe there's some greater meaning to being a Janitor?
And what of this "The" thing? Where does that fit in?
Someday I'll find out.
Someday I'll know.
And someday I'll eat more sour cream and onion Pringles.
I just wish that day was today. (Not the knowledge stuff, the Pringles.)

*Definitions were taken from Dictionary.com. Thanks, technology.

5:01 PM - 6 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

"What is love..."

I warn the reader now that I have quite a lot to write about.
Here's a bit of math for you.
I've been writing blogs at the rate of one per week.
That would mean that I'm writing 52 blogs a year.
Should I live to be, say, 60 years older than I am now, that would be 3,120 more blogs.
Should you add the 216, including this one, that I have already written, that would be 3,336.
Gotta love pointless math.
Quite simply, I would like to write at LEAST 1,000 blogs before I die.
Still, three thousand is not enough.
I'm hoping to live for another 60 years, so that goal should be easily met should I continue my current operating speed.
Mathematically, I could make my 1,000th blog by...
216 blogs in two years and 5 months...
About 10 years? Interesting.
Still, three thousand is not enough if I'm planning to live that long.
I could even break 5,000.
That'd be cool.
So, what I'm trying to say here is that I'll try to write more blogs, going for two a week, or around eight a month.
My brother has recently moved back into our house due to a particular circumstance.
In an attempt to make his apartment complex more awesome, someone decided to light it on fire.
Seemed logical enough to me.
However, the awesomeness of the apartments was simply too much to control after the fires grew.
The Awesomeness Police (known to the public as firefighters) had to contain the fire in order to keep the awesomeness from getting out of hand.
'Tis quite dangerous if left unattended, and I don't mean the fire. That stuff is harmless.
I realized some things when my brother moved back in.
Firstly, he's not too careful of a driver.
He likes to use my stuff without permission should it reside outside of my room (mainly bathroom things...yech). He tends to avoid going into my room unless he's sitting in my chair to look at deer outside.
Finally, we can't talk about anything worthwhile. I'm not sure why this is, but I think it's because we were always distant as children. My siblings and I kept a lot of things hidden between each other and even with our parents. Perhaps that's one of the reasons why I appreciate being open with others.
It's nice to have him around, as, with him at the house, I don't feel as bad when I can't make it to dinner. My parents may want me there for dinner time, but I just don't like doing it with them.
Hm.
I've used "hm" to transition between subjects for a while now. It's worked before, so I'll keep doing it.
I've been thinking.
My life seems pretty incredible to others should they get to know me better (incredible in the "can't believe" way).
The things I did, the darkness I overcame, the suffering I bore, and the insanity I avoided, they all did not break me down, they only made me stronger.
I've gone through a lot in the past, and I have made a lot of progress in a very short amount of time.
And I'm not just saying this to sound like I'm a perfect person. I accept that I still have problems (though insignificant in comparison to the past), but I've come a loooooong way.
I explained this to my friend Jim and even my Marriage and Family teacher, and they said that I shouldn't degrade my accomplishments, as I've done some rather amazing things.
However, I'm wondering.
Does the past have any power over me now?
Does it control me?
Do I alter my thoughts and behavior because of it?
Hm...
No.
No, it doesn't.
In the past, I did things for others at my own expense.
I overlooked things in order to make the other feel better at the cost of my own pain, hoping to find happiness.
Is that the case yet again?
No.
I'm certain of it.
I'm doing what I want, and I'm doing it for me.
A long time ago, someone told me that I will get what I deserve.
At the time, I assumed they meant death.
I know now what they meant.
They were trying to tell me that I will, eventually, get what's best for me.
What will work.
What will make me happy.
This amazing thing that they were referring to is at my doorstep.
I've been trying to view my situation through careful detail and piecing together.
Mathematics, logic, analyzing, all this and more.
Talking to myself in the shower, thinking constantly (even when I drive, sorry if that scares you, Gloria), wondering during class, and taking physical and mental notes.
Through all this thought, and careful consideration, it all points to a single answer.
It was interesting. Once I wrote it all down, I didn't even have to get too far into it, and I had my answer.
A single, clean, true answer.
And it was good.

8:21 PM - 9 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

"Sweep that floor, kid..."

I have a problem with English classes, but I'll get the cool stuff out of the way first.
A few things have happened for the first time in my life.
I've made front page of a newspaper!
People actually clapped for me while I was ON stage! Normally, people only clapped for me during bows, and people clapping while I was on stage was an awesome experience.
Arsenic is awesome!
Uh...
Um...
Yeah, that's it.
Now then, the boring thought stuff.
I don't like the idea of forcing anyone to read books.
Books are meant to inspire and make whoever is reading think, much like Project TACO. As I've learned in my Marriage and Family class, people can only change correctly when they are comfortable doing so.
Which is why reading my blogs is entirely optional; I'm not forcing anyone to read anything, but it's there if you want to, just like books.
Shoving a book into someone's hand and telling them to read it is like giving someone a shovel and telling them to go dig stuff up.
They probably didn't want to dig in the first place, and finding anything worthwhile is incredibly difficult.
I'm tired of digging; I want to do it when I'm comfortable.
I've been trying to view my English books as learning experiences, but it just seems too forced to me.
It's quite ironic, what I've noticed in my class.
People are discussing about learning unique, individual, and personal things from reading Emerson's short essay, "The American Scholar."
What they fail to realize is that they're doing exactly what Emerson warned them about: the parroting of other men's thinking.
It's strange to hear Emerson talking about parroting other people's ideas and then turning around and having them expect to parrot his own.
Every time I'm in my English class, I feel a large amount of fakeness around me.
People with fake thoughts and fake ideas and fake intelligence.
But who am I to interpret what is real and what isn't? My reality may be completely different to someone else.
I'm sure there are people in my class who think that reading Emerson was probably one of the greatest things they did in their life.
I'm reading this essay and realizing that Emerson was simply a Person complaining about how stupid People are, and he is trying to set them straight with his ideas.
I wonder how many others have seen this.
Of course, they probably see a different point.
This is why I don't like English classes.
I've already realized many things about life that many so-called "great minds" of the past have written about, but I haven't read any books to learn these things.
Simply through my own observations, experiences, and thoughts did I come to this state.
And, hell, I'm probably not even close to being right about anything.
All I'm seeing is that everyone who is considered to be a great thinker is actually just a Person who's taken the time to write about his or her thoughts.
Perhaps is's their way for them to spread Personism.
Hm...that's interesting.
I wonder what that makes me.

8:15 PM - 8 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

"Sad as it may be, I’m glad it’s over, finally..."

One of the primary ways to make someone upset is to give them something and then take it away.
Queens of the Stone Age explored this subject (as well as rocked out) with their song, "First It Giveth."
Now, there are a few variants of this.
Something can be found or created instead of given.
And something can be lost or destroyed instead of taken away.
Any combination of one thing from both sides would lead to suckiness, unless you didn't care about whatever it was that was lost/destroyed/taken away.
However, being that you're paying attention to what you're losing, you probably have some kind of connection to it, and don't want to lose it.
(This is part of the reason I don't like cleaning my room. Throwing stuff out makes me feel incomplete for a while.)
What if you lost something that was a part of you?
A confusing question.
Confusestion? Nah, not as catchy.
Well...maybe.
I've been playing with the idea of morality.
My life is composed mainly of morals and manners, and I'm faced with an unusual situation.
Unusuation? I've gotta stop doing that.
There's just one thing holding me back, and it's something I can't really do anything about.
It's a very strange thought...
Because of me?
Could it really be possible?
I've gone through a lot in my life and recovered from most of it.
Things have happened to people because of me.
Not all of them good.
I'm hoping it's mostly good, maybe like a 90/10 percent ratio of good to bad.
And, as karma seems to work ever so deliberately, things have happened to me.
I'm still recovering from some things, but they don't hinder my life or bring me down.
I'm sure that I'll keep changing myself throughout my entire life, keeping the good/healthy and getting rid of the bad/unhealthy.
It's a gradual and slow process.
Ah well.
It's interesting to see someone go into a relationship with someone because they're compatible, not just because they're attracted or they like something about the other.
Compatibility seems to be a very important part of relationships that most people overlook, usually due to loneliness and trying to break up the boredom.
It was funny; not long ago I asked my friend Abby why girls get into relationships with incompatible people, usually knowing that the relationship would be a failure.
I said I wondered if women subconsciously got into broken relationships just to break up the boredom in their life, and have something to talk about later.
She responded, "That is exactly it. You have discovered the secret of women."
I'm honestly hoping it isn't true, but I'm almost certain that most of the "bad relationships" out there happened because women were bored and most guys are stupid. (No offense, women. Guys, you all know it's true.)
Hm...
Time, waiting, and patience.
Two things I have a lot of and one thing I do often.
Amazing. Waiting has finally started to pay off.
Crazy magic.
I've been wondering about how others see their "mistakes" in life.
I don't quite consider many decisions mistakes because the choices that were made at the time felt correct.
Due to my lack of judgment (and maybe caring too much), I've made some of these so-called mistakes.
However, everything is justified in some way.
I've been going by the fact that it is never the problem that matters, it's how you handle it.
That's true for any situation, isn't it? It's almost always about how you deal with it.
By that rational, most problems really don't matter as much as we make it seem.
That's rather nice to think about.
As long as we stay calm and keep our maturity in a situation, problems aren't as difficult to handle.

8:21 PM - 9 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

"I make the right moves, but I’m lost within..."

What have I done to deserve this?
Define "this."
This being all I have, all I am, all I've done.
My life, my fate, my belongings, both physical and emotional.
What have I done?
That line could be interpreted in a few ways.
Usually when people say "What have I done?" they're making an exclamation after having just done something incredibly wrong.
That is not the context in this case.
It's more a case of questioning, of wondering.
Is it simply because of my existence?
Why does everything seem to appropriate in my life?
The pain, the pleasure, the problems.
All of it seems to fit so well, but is it fate?
Is it something more?
Something more than fate, is that even possible?
Is destiny more powerful than fate?
Too many questions, not enough answers.
Hm.
I realized while I was driving today that I've possessed the unique ability of over-visualization since I was born.
I remembered how, as a kid of 6 years old, I would close my eyes and visualize the path the bus was taking on the way to school.
I was able to feel every turn, see every tree, and remember every bump before the bus even got there. Was that the trigger?
I don't remember anything before I was 6, except when I went into my mom's minivan and buckled myself in while I waited for my mom to drive me somewhere.
Waiting...so I've been doing that since I was a child as well.
That's interesting. I wonder how much meaning there was in our childhoods, now.
I have changed since back then, surely, but old habits die hard.
I remember doing badly in school, and that still resides today.
I remember having very few friends, if any other than Ashby. That's definitely changed.
My mother always said that I was the happiest child of the three children in my family.
Hm...my first reaction to that is, "That's changed."
But I wonder if it really hasn't.
I'm content with life, despite all the confusitions I've been through.
No matter what happens to me in the daytime, and no matter how upset I may get at something, I'll always fall asleep feeling content.
I like that.
I feel encouraged now.
Amazing how simply putting my thoughts down makes me feel so much better about myself.
When I write, I'm able to find out things about myself I never knew before because I'm letting the fingers do the talking.
My thoughts are silenced, and the fingers seem to type directly what's in my subconscious, which holds all the answers.
Cool.
No wonder I've written so much.

12:57 AM - 6 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment