Hey there father infested internet! I hope everyone is enjoying time with their fathers or at least had a nice long talk about some sports event or fixing something in your apartment. I have not called my father yet seeing as he is probably napping because he is a feeble old man at the ripe age of 52. But I'm not going to spend this whole blog tearing into John. I'm passed that. Instead, I'm going to say a few words for those without a father today.
John Back was never really a father to me. This man has never given me an advice other than the classic, "Take it easy, brother!" (A mantra for the ages). My dad fell, not only out of my life, but out of his own life many moons ago and I still mourn this like a death. No one should grow up without the support of both parents but unfortunately it happens. My dad chose his pain over me. He chose to live a spiteful life full of regrets and anger instead of enjoying a life with the family that he created, even with it a little broken.
It took me many years to even understand that last sentence. I ALWAYS blamed myself. I said, "Maybe if I was less like my mom, maybe if I was funnier, maybe if I was more like my brothers, maybe he would want to be in my life. Maybe I would have a dad if I was different." I have only recently realized that I'm perfectly fine the way I am. Changing myself never would have helped him because it was up to him to change himself. My dad is the kind of person who lives in constantly anger. He could never focus on the joy of his life. He had three beautiful, hilarious children every weekend and what did we do? Watch Sport Center and play Craps while he drank Milwaukee's Best Light and faded in and out of consciousness. Then when Sunday came, he would send us to my Grandma's so he could get more drunk alone. Not a fun time. But he didn't know how else to deal. The reason for the divorce was this behavior so why would he change? He wouldn't because that's not what he was taught to do. He was taught that when bad things happen, it's always someone else's fault and not his own. When you grow up like that, you never feel the need to change.
Now when I feel sad about my dad and his lack of a presence in my life, I think about what life would have been like if I was raised with these same ideas and I feel lucky. I was lucky to have other people in my life to teach me that life shouldn't be like that. Matt Hayes, specifically, was the best replacement dad a girl could have. Matt Hayes was my youth minister. Throughout my high school career, he taught me that life is scary and sad and funny and wonderful. We just have to laugh with and at it. He taught me that I'm not defined by what has happened to me. I'm defined by my own actions. I'm defined by how I react to these things. I will always wish Matt a Happy Fathers Day because he is really the person who raised me into the woman I am today. Now Matt has 4 daughters of his own and I'm so excited for the way those girls will love the world. Same goes for his son. Anyone who comes from Crystal and Matt's DNA will be good people and will help the world. I just know it. Thank you, Baby Face. You're the best. I hope you're having the best Father's Day!
I can't forget my mother as well. This woman divorced my dad to become the woman she was always supposed to be. She stopped accepting this behavior from him and made a change. That decision may have wrecked my dad but it saved my mother's life. Again, I cannot imagine growing up in a household with my dad. My dad constantly making my mother feel less than, telling her that she was average and me watching this and believing this is how relationships are supposed to be. My mother had the courage to get out of an emotionally abusive relationship and I can never thank her enough. Once she did that for herself, life became very hard for her and our family. We moved a lot, she had some trouble with my brothers and has been lonely for a long time. BUT she is exactly who she wants to be. This was the most wonderful example to grow up around. The idea of being yourself no matter how hard that may be stayed with me and helped me through the disaster I call adolescence. I was a strange child. I was picked on a lot for being different. That's very normal. But I was lucky to have a mom that said, "You are unique in your own way. You are Stargirl. Don't you EVER let ANYONE dull your shine." If it weren't for her, I would not be the quirky, goofy, emotional person I am today. I would have submitted to being just like everyone else and that sounds terribly boring. Thank you, Shyrleen Elizabeth Doughty and Happy Father's Day.
I have one last thing to say about my dad and why I don't get sad about this topic anymore. My dad's life must be so sad. I look around at all of the people I love, how much fun I'm having on a daily basis, and how the choice of happiness is the best decision ever to be made. Then I look at the life of John Back. Alone. Drunk 24/7. Only friend is his mother. He made his decision and he chose wrong. He doesn't have me in his life and that is sad. I'm a very good daughter who would have brought him so much joy if he fucking paid attention to anything but his pain. So I can't be angry with him anymore. I recently sent him a letter that received no response. For those who know me, you know that if I send you a letter, I care a lot about you. Postage is a serious expense to me and I don't do it lightly. Mail brightens people's day. In a world full of notifications and texts, letters are a wonderful way to show that I care enough to take time to sit down and focus on the entertainment of one person for a couple of minutes. That really means something to me. I did this for my dead beat dad because I thought about how this could possibly brighten his dark world. Everyone loves mail. Even an angry old man. So I sent it with the hope of making him smile for once. I honestly hope he did.
IN CONCLUSION, for everyone out there having a hard day not focusing on the hole a fatherless life can leave, look around at the people who were there and thank them today. Your family is not limited to those who share your blood, it is also the people that choose you to this day. They say, "I'm sticking around even though I don't have to." Love those people today. Male, female, or dog. Love them because everyone needs to hear that they're doing something right. Also, if you can bring yourself to do it, be the bigger person, and call him. It might be the only joy he'll find today.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Vegging Out
Summer 2015 is the last summer I get before I become a real human. I'm not paying rent (thanks to some beautiful friends of mine), I have a job that only needs me on the weekends meaning I get 4 days completely to myself, and I don't have any bills to pay (that will majorly affect my credit...Target REDCARD). This should be the summer of fun and youthful drinking. If I'm not drunk on Lake Michigan at least twice a month, I feel like I'm not doing my societal duty. This should also be the summer I can really focus on comedy.
I'm having a hard time doing either of those things. I find myself vegging out a little bit too much. I get out of work on Sunday night, I go home, perhaps smoke a little, watch some Doctor Who, listen to sappy lovey dovey music and/or Miniature Tigers (both have the same affect on my brain, heart and soul), and fall asleep. This repeats almost every day until Thursday when I have to go to my internship.
My main defense for this repeated behavior is that my first year at Columbia really took it out of me. I don't think I've ever been challenged in the way was there.
When I was at Sinclair, it was definitely difficult. But it was difficult because I was finally learning how to be a good student. After years of fighting my mother about school, I got to college and realized I really need to just take the time to do my work. It's crazy how being in a field you actually care about makes you want to do well. At Sinclair, I was putting in 12-14 hour days for several months of those two years. Class, working in the shop, and rehearsals made my life outside of school slim to none. Weekends and even after late night rehearsals were devoted to homework.
Now I know that this is a classic story of being a student. I know I'm not some saint or martyr for going through all this. I also know this would be easy in comparison to many others I've known. All I'm saying is that it was difficult for me. Very difficult but very rewarding.
At Sinclair, almost every moment of my time was scheduled for school or the costume shop. I remember during Spamalot (Fall 2013), I had a full schedule, shop hours when I wasn't in class, then would work more hours in the shop from 5-10pm. Then when the show opened, I was helping run front of house/box office before the show started then immediately ran backstage and worked on costume run crew, only to have to run back out and do my front of house duties after the show was over. That was one of the craziest and most fun experiences in my entire life. But the point is my life was incredibly scheduled.
At Columbia, this is not the case until my second semester. I had the luxury of On-Campus living, not having a job, and being able to focus only on school. This being said, it was one of the most emotionally and physically taxing years of my life so far (I know it'll get worse but for the better).
I took the work ethic I built at Sinclair and dove right into Columbia with open arms. My first semester, I did anything that was offered to me. I was auditioning regularly, going to Improv Club, doing improv jams, doing open mics, short films, film projects, etc. All of these things that were incredibly helpful in my second semester.
By my second semester, some people actually knew me. This is hard to do in a school as large as Columbia. I had worked with comedy majors, television majors, acting majors, directing majors and film majors. I was getting "work" without having to search it out. That's a real blessing but spoiled me a little.
Now I'm still getting work even in the summer, but I've lost the drive to search for it. I should be going to open mics and improv jams as religiously as I was that first semester but I feel myself getting comfortable. The same thing happened in Dayton. I started to take all of these opportunities for granted instead of diving in and enjoying the hustle and bustle of it all.
Columbia also challenged me differently because it taught me that making my own work is not only a possibility but also very important. Before this point, I always felt like I had to wait until I was good enough. From the many artsy fartsy classes I took in the past two semesters, I've learned you won't be good unless you make shitty work. Shitty work that you love. I had a stage manager at Sinclair that always used to tell us this Chinese proverb or Yogi teabag quote (I'm not sure which), "You cannot change something that doesn't exist." When I got the Columbia, that finally applied to my comedy. I had to get rid of the fear of being wrong, and replace it with a hope to improve. Revising is the key to success when it comes to anything but especially in comedy. You have to do it to see if it works. If it's sitting in your brain, you'll never know. I had to learn to just put it on paper and try not to cringe too much when it was read aloud in class.
I haven't written a joke or a sketch for about a month and I feel like a waste of space. I find things funny. I have good ideas. I just get stuck in my vegetable state and tell myself I'll do it later. I find I can't work where I sleep. There is no inspiration in a place that I see every day. Coffee shops are my writing sanctuary but I haven't had the money to go and spend a day at one. Now I have to money but still haven't. I keep telling myself it's because of this or that or another dumb excuse but it's really just laziness. I'm tired from the semester but I can't stop because of that. I've got to keep making work. What's going to happen when I graduate? Am I just going to stop because I don't have a teacher breathing down my neck? If I keep the same mentality, probably. I need to start getting into the habit of writing on the regular. Whether that's weekly or daily, I'm not sure yet but it needs to be on a regular schedule.
I'm also embarrassed by how much I think about this boy instead of comedy. I'm notoriously boy crazy but I thought I had calmed down after my last lesson/relationship. I do miss him and I'm not going to play it cool and pretend I don't. Now I'm not always thinking about him. When I'm with friends or at work, I focus on what's happening and live my fucking life. I'm not that pathetic. My problem is that whenever my mind wanders, it wanders to him. This does not help me stay motivated at all. My friends say he'll be back before I know it but I feel like that advice is only valid if I keep busy. If I sit around waiting for him to snapchat me, the time will pass terribly slowly.
I have no ending to this blog because I haven't quite figured out what I'm going to do about it yet. Monday, I'm going to lunch with one of my future roommates, then I'm going straight to a coffee shop to figure this shit out. I won't wait for the next school year or a boy to come home. I need to get in the habit of making my life happen, not waiting. Whether that's auditioning like crazy, improvising every chance I get, or writing my own ANYTHING, I need to start doing it now. That's all I know.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
I'm having a hard time doing either of those things. I find myself vegging out a little bit too much. I get out of work on Sunday night, I go home, perhaps smoke a little, watch some Doctor Who, listen to sappy lovey dovey music and/or Miniature Tigers (both have the same affect on my brain, heart and soul), and fall asleep. This repeats almost every day until Thursday when I have to go to my internship.
My main defense for this repeated behavior is that my first year at Columbia really took it out of me. I don't think I've ever been challenged in the way was there.
When I was at Sinclair, it was definitely difficult. But it was difficult because I was finally learning how to be a good student. After years of fighting my mother about school, I got to college and realized I really need to just take the time to do my work. It's crazy how being in a field you actually care about makes you want to do well. At Sinclair, I was putting in 12-14 hour days for several months of those two years. Class, working in the shop, and rehearsals made my life outside of school slim to none. Weekends and even after late night rehearsals were devoted to homework.
Now I know that this is a classic story of being a student. I know I'm not some saint or martyr for going through all this. I also know this would be easy in comparison to many others I've known. All I'm saying is that it was difficult for me. Very difficult but very rewarding.
At Sinclair, almost every moment of my time was scheduled for school or the costume shop. I remember during Spamalot (Fall 2013), I had a full schedule, shop hours when I wasn't in class, then would work more hours in the shop from 5-10pm. Then when the show opened, I was helping run front of house/box office before the show started then immediately ran backstage and worked on costume run crew, only to have to run back out and do my front of house duties after the show was over. That was one of the craziest and most fun experiences in my entire life. But the point is my life was incredibly scheduled.
At Columbia, this is not the case until my second semester. I had the luxury of On-Campus living, not having a job, and being able to focus only on school. This being said, it was one of the most emotionally and physically taxing years of my life so far (I know it'll get worse but for the better).
I took the work ethic I built at Sinclair and dove right into Columbia with open arms. My first semester, I did anything that was offered to me. I was auditioning regularly, going to Improv Club, doing improv jams, doing open mics, short films, film projects, etc. All of these things that were incredibly helpful in my second semester.
By my second semester, some people actually knew me. This is hard to do in a school as large as Columbia. I had worked with comedy majors, television majors, acting majors, directing majors and film majors. I was getting "work" without having to search it out. That's a real blessing but spoiled me a little.
Now I'm still getting work even in the summer, but I've lost the drive to search for it. I should be going to open mics and improv jams as religiously as I was that first semester but I feel myself getting comfortable. The same thing happened in Dayton. I started to take all of these opportunities for granted instead of diving in and enjoying the hustle and bustle of it all.
Columbia also challenged me differently because it taught me that making my own work is not only a possibility but also very important. Before this point, I always felt like I had to wait until I was good enough. From the many artsy fartsy classes I took in the past two semesters, I've learned you won't be good unless you make shitty work. Shitty work that you love. I had a stage manager at Sinclair that always used to tell us this Chinese proverb or Yogi teabag quote (I'm not sure which), "You cannot change something that doesn't exist." When I got the Columbia, that finally applied to my comedy. I had to get rid of the fear of being wrong, and replace it with a hope to improve. Revising is the key to success when it comes to anything but especially in comedy. You have to do it to see if it works. If it's sitting in your brain, you'll never know. I had to learn to just put it on paper and try not to cringe too much when it was read aloud in class.
I haven't written a joke or a sketch for about a month and I feel like a waste of space. I find things funny. I have good ideas. I just get stuck in my vegetable state and tell myself I'll do it later. I find I can't work where I sleep. There is no inspiration in a place that I see every day. Coffee shops are my writing sanctuary but I haven't had the money to go and spend a day at one. Now I have to money but still haven't. I keep telling myself it's because of this or that or another dumb excuse but it's really just laziness. I'm tired from the semester but I can't stop because of that. I've got to keep making work. What's going to happen when I graduate? Am I just going to stop because I don't have a teacher breathing down my neck? If I keep the same mentality, probably. I need to start getting into the habit of writing on the regular. Whether that's weekly or daily, I'm not sure yet but it needs to be on a regular schedule.
I'm also embarrassed by how much I think about this boy instead of comedy. I'm notoriously boy crazy but I thought I had calmed down after my last lesson/relationship. I do miss him and I'm not going to play it cool and pretend I don't. Now I'm not always thinking about him. When I'm with friends or at work, I focus on what's happening and live my fucking life. I'm not that pathetic. My problem is that whenever my mind wanders, it wanders to him. This does not help me stay motivated at all. My friends say he'll be back before I know it but I feel like that advice is only valid if I keep busy. If I sit around waiting for him to snapchat me, the time will pass terribly slowly.
I have no ending to this blog because I haven't quite figured out what I'm going to do about it yet. Monday, I'm going to lunch with one of my future roommates, then I'm going straight to a coffee shop to figure this shit out. I won't wait for the next school year or a boy to come home. I need to get in the habit of making my life happen, not waiting. Whether that's auditioning like crazy, improvising every chance I get, or writing my own ANYTHING, I need to start doing it now. That's all I know.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
443 Miles
I HAVE SOME VERY EXCITING NEWS, WORLD!!! ARE YOU READY?!
I have, for the second summer in a row, found myself in a long distance relationship (or whatever)! Isn't that ever so exciting readers?! I'm very excited about this new commitment to always get feelings for the physically unattainable. I think it's the exact thing I need to never be sane again!
But seriously. The boy I've been talking about on here is now 443 miles away (no I didn't googlemaps that exact number; leave me alone) and will not be returning AT ALL until August. Upon hearing this for the first time, I was rather upset. Even though we weren't even slightly a thing when he told me, I realized that if this became a "thing" I would, yet again, have to deal with the nasty beast of distance. Luckily, I'm no stranger to LDR's (as they call them on Pinterest).
Last summer, I was in a relationship with the infamous Charles. Actually, we went on our first date a year ago yesterday so the timing of my whining is perfect. Charles lived in Columbus while I lived in Dayton. That is about an hour and a half drive if you're speeding. This doesn't seem like a huge distance to most but for two poor college kids, it was difficult. We saw each other MAYBE once a week but often would go two weeks or so without seeing each other. Twas difficult for us.
Being the terribly insecure person I was before I moved to Chicago, I was always terrified he'd fall out of love with me. The distance made me unable to get the constant reassurance I needed at the time. I would sit around and try to think of ways to keep myself on his mind. I called often, texted often, and even sent him a letter hoping to start a mail based dialogue. That letter became a major point of contention in our relationship because he never replied. But that is a separate issue I may bring up in the future (hopefully not). The point of mentioning all of that is that I became obsessed with the idea of proof that he existed. At that point in time, I was also months away from moving to Chicago and knew we were going to break up the minute I started the car. So this obsession with proof was fueled by our inevitable doom. This made me live in a constant state of sadness and dread. Knowing that I would only have him for so long made it hard to enjoy the time I had with him. At a time when I should have been enjoying myself and the people around me, I was worried about whether a boy was thinking about me and missing me as much as I was missing him. This was so foolish and fills me with regret. Not only is that a bad way to go about a relationship it also affected the relationship in a serious way. When you think about something too much, you start to over think and put more meaning into everything. What I mean by that can only be explained by telling you that by the end of the summer, I basically told him he was the greatest love of my life and that I wanted to marry him. We had only known each other for 3 months. Over thinking caused me to idolize this man into my soulmate when he should have been put in my book as just a guy I loved. I'm still embarrassed by that to this day.
My current long distance relationship (or whatever) is under significantly different circumstances. We started seeing each other (whatever that means) a couple of months before distance became an issue, at the end of the summer we will live in the same city, and I'm no longer searching for the same reassurance. The great part about a second time, is that you learn from the first. I know exactly where this relationship (or whatever) stands, I know he misses me too, and I know that I get to choose what upsets me. All of those things combined will make this summer significantly easier. I won't spend the next three months dreaming of his return. I may spend a couple of minutes...let's be honest, hours but I won't spend the bulk of my time thinking about it. I will spend time with my friends, focus on work, write some good comedy, and do a little traveling to the state of New Jersey (Jordan Lee Cohen).
Conclusion paragraph: I'm gonna be happy even though the boy that makes me the happiest is miles away. The end. (Check back in a month when I'm crying about it again)
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
I have, for the second summer in a row, found myself in a long distance relationship (or whatever)! Isn't that ever so exciting readers?! I'm very excited about this new commitment to always get feelings for the physically unattainable. I think it's the exact thing I need to never be sane again!
But seriously. The boy I've been talking about on here is now 443 miles away (no I didn't googlemaps that exact number; leave me alone) and will not be returning AT ALL until August. Upon hearing this for the first time, I was rather upset. Even though we weren't even slightly a thing when he told me, I realized that if this became a "thing" I would, yet again, have to deal with the nasty beast of distance. Luckily, I'm no stranger to LDR's (as they call them on Pinterest).
Last summer, I was in a relationship with the infamous Charles. Actually, we went on our first date a year ago yesterday so the timing of my whining is perfect. Charles lived in Columbus while I lived in Dayton. That is about an hour and a half drive if you're speeding. This doesn't seem like a huge distance to most but for two poor college kids, it was difficult. We saw each other MAYBE once a week but often would go two weeks or so without seeing each other. Twas difficult for us.
Being the terribly insecure person I was before I moved to Chicago, I was always terrified he'd fall out of love with me. The distance made me unable to get the constant reassurance I needed at the time. I would sit around and try to think of ways to keep myself on his mind. I called often, texted often, and even sent him a letter hoping to start a mail based dialogue. That letter became a major point of contention in our relationship because he never replied. But that is a separate issue I may bring up in the future (hopefully not). The point of mentioning all of that is that I became obsessed with the idea of proof that he existed. At that point in time, I was also months away from moving to Chicago and knew we were going to break up the minute I started the car. So this obsession with proof was fueled by our inevitable doom. This made me live in a constant state of sadness and dread. Knowing that I would only have him for so long made it hard to enjoy the time I had with him. At a time when I should have been enjoying myself and the people around me, I was worried about whether a boy was thinking about me and missing me as much as I was missing him. This was so foolish and fills me with regret. Not only is that a bad way to go about a relationship it also affected the relationship in a serious way. When you think about something too much, you start to over think and put more meaning into everything. What I mean by that can only be explained by telling you that by the end of the summer, I basically told him he was the greatest love of my life and that I wanted to marry him. We had only known each other for 3 months. Over thinking caused me to idolize this man into my soulmate when he should have been put in my book as just a guy I loved. I'm still embarrassed by that to this day.
My current long distance relationship (or whatever) is under significantly different circumstances. We started seeing each other (whatever that means) a couple of months before distance became an issue, at the end of the summer we will live in the same city, and I'm no longer searching for the same reassurance. The great part about a second time, is that you learn from the first. I know exactly where this relationship (or whatever) stands, I know he misses me too, and I know that I get to choose what upsets me. All of those things combined will make this summer significantly easier. I won't spend the next three months dreaming of his return. I may spend a couple of minutes...let's be honest, hours but I won't spend the bulk of my time thinking about it. I will spend time with my friends, focus on work, write some good comedy, and do a little traveling to the state of New Jersey (Jordan Lee Cohen).
Conclusion paragraph: I'm gonna be happy even though the boy that makes me the happiest is miles away. The end. (Check back in a month when I'm crying about it again)
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Chicago Changed Me.
On August 26th 2014 (when I moved to Chicago), May 16th 2015 and a woman president felt equally as far away. On this day, Hilary is running and I'm sitting in an apartment I call mine, feeling that Chicago breeze on my bare freckled arms. On this day, I have finished my first year of school here with a 3.5 GPA and my first set of comedy classes under my belt. On this day, even when the loud ass train awoke me from my deep slumber, I awoke with a (slightly dumb) smile on my face.
Ladies and homosexual males, I fucking did it. Though I can never forget about the tremendous amount of debt this put me in, I fucking live in Chicago and made a happy life for myself here. With the safety net of on-campus housing, a meal plan and the support of my beautiful wonderful mama, I was able to completely focus on my art (yeah, I hate me too for calling it that), making lasting friends (see: I'm normal again), and bettering myself (nope, I'm gross).
Chicago changed me.
Existing in this city made me realize one very important thing; I don't want to JUST exist.
When I began feeling overwhelmed with the volume of human lives around me at any given moment, I started to realize that so many of those people are just alive to pay bills until they die. They aren't creating anything or leaving any positive impact on the world they are lucky enough to be a part of. This is my biggest fear. The meaning of life is unknowable. People have searched for it for centuries and came up empty handed. I know that. Some people think because of that life is pointless. Why should I try when I'm just going to die anyway? I thought for a very long time. Well, I see it the opposite way now. If I'm only going to be on this earth for 80 years, I better make them count. I want to leave something good on this doomed planet. Though I'm not exactly sure what that is yet, I still seek it. Whether it's a large filmography that is guaranteed to make generations laugh and cry, or a couple of human beings who believe the same thing and actually do something about it, I will be happy with the way my life turns out as long as it helps. I know I've done so much damage to the world as it is by not sorting my recycling properly. Hopefully, it will even out.
Another HUGE lesson I've learned here in this beautiful city, is that everything in life is a choice. Whenever I feel like complaining about how much homework I have or how much I don't want to go to a rehearsal, I stop and remind myself that I chose this. If I really think these things are ridiculous and pointless, I should drop out and go be a cashier in Ohio until I die. I could have done that instead. But I didn't. I applied to Columbia to work hard and get better. Most of the time, to get better you have to do a lot of crap you don't want to do. Not every assignment is going to be easy or fun, even in comedy school, most aren't, but there is something to be learned after the hard work is done. This applies to life in general as well. It will not always be easy, most of the time it won't. But I'm choosing to be on this earth. I could've made another choice many times but I didn't so I need to take the highs and the lows and know that each shall pass in their own time. My job is to decide who to deal with both. Today, I decide I'll be happy either way.
I know my mom is going to roll her eyes at this next section. "Sydney, I think you should leave your relationships with men out of your blog." Sorry mom, it ain't gonna happen. I did actually learn a very simple but impossible lesson about relationships, both platonic and romantic. Are you ready? If it doesn't make your life easier or more fun, you don't need it. Life is hard enough without negative ass people around you. I've been incredibly busy this entire semester. I've been so busy that when I finally got time to relax it felt foreign. I began to finally value time with people who I can truly relax with. My best friends are the ones I don't have to put on an act for, the ones I can be quiet and boring with. Don't get me wrong, I'll bit all over these friends when the time is right but there is also a time for watching movies and eating a block of cheese with someone who has watched you vomit while you were dressed as a formal apology (hilarious costume right?). There is no better way to spend a Thursday night. Bonding I mean; bonding is the best way to spend a Thursday night! Vomiting is not recommended.
On the romantic side, I've realized that if I feel like I'm wasting time with a boy, I am wasting my time. If I don't feel refreshed or, dare I say, happy upon leaving our encounter, I should probably stop encountering him. The boy I'm with (or whatever) right now feels like an old friend. We do bits, smash bits, and talk more than a little bit. I'd be comfortable doing just about anything with him. That is the kind of person I want to be with. Basically a friend who likes to touch my butt. It's really that simple and no one should settle for anything else. Because it's seriously wonderful.
All in all, my first year at Columbia was exactly as wonderful, life-changing, and tear ridden as I thought it would be. I'm a better person today than I was August 26th and that's really all I can ask for. Now I get to experience a summer in the city. I've been told the summers make the winters absolutely worth it. I hope so because this 21 year old body is READY for crop top season. My body is not ready, on the other hand, for the amount of pale ales I'm going to digest within the coming months. But hey, my body will only tolerate crop tops AND heavy drinking for so long so WHY NOT?!?!
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Ladies and homosexual males, I fucking did it. Though I can never forget about the tremendous amount of debt this put me in, I fucking live in Chicago and made a happy life for myself here. With the safety net of on-campus housing, a meal plan and the support of my beautiful wonderful mama, I was able to completely focus on my art (yeah, I hate me too for calling it that), making lasting friends (see: I'm normal again), and bettering myself (nope, I'm gross).
Chicago changed me.
Existing in this city made me realize one very important thing; I don't want to JUST exist.
When I began feeling overwhelmed with the volume of human lives around me at any given moment, I started to realize that so many of those people are just alive to pay bills until they die. They aren't creating anything or leaving any positive impact on the world they are lucky enough to be a part of. This is my biggest fear. The meaning of life is unknowable. People have searched for it for centuries and came up empty handed. I know that. Some people think because of that life is pointless. Why should I try when I'm just going to die anyway? I thought for a very long time. Well, I see it the opposite way now. If I'm only going to be on this earth for 80 years, I better make them count. I want to leave something good on this doomed planet. Though I'm not exactly sure what that is yet, I still seek it. Whether it's a large filmography that is guaranteed to make generations laugh and cry, or a couple of human beings who believe the same thing and actually do something about it, I will be happy with the way my life turns out as long as it helps. I know I've done so much damage to the world as it is by not sorting my recycling properly. Hopefully, it will even out.
Another HUGE lesson I've learned here in this beautiful city, is that everything in life is a choice. Whenever I feel like complaining about how much homework I have or how much I don't want to go to a rehearsal, I stop and remind myself that I chose this. If I really think these things are ridiculous and pointless, I should drop out and go be a cashier in Ohio until I die. I could have done that instead. But I didn't. I applied to Columbia to work hard and get better. Most of the time, to get better you have to do a lot of crap you don't want to do. Not every assignment is going to be easy or fun, even in comedy school, most aren't, but there is something to be learned after the hard work is done. This applies to life in general as well. It will not always be easy, most of the time it won't. But I'm choosing to be on this earth. I could've made another choice many times but I didn't so I need to take the highs and the lows and know that each shall pass in their own time. My job is to decide who to deal with both. Today, I decide I'll be happy either way.
I know my mom is going to roll her eyes at this next section. "Sydney, I think you should leave your relationships with men out of your blog." Sorry mom, it ain't gonna happen. I did actually learn a very simple but impossible lesson about relationships, both platonic and romantic. Are you ready? If it doesn't make your life easier or more fun, you don't need it. Life is hard enough without negative ass people around you. I've been incredibly busy this entire semester. I've been so busy that when I finally got time to relax it felt foreign. I began to finally value time with people who I can truly relax with. My best friends are the ones I don't have to put on an act for, the ones I can be quiet and boring with. Don't get me wrong, I'll bit all over these friends when the time is right but there is also a time for watching movies and eating a block of cheese with someone who has watched you vomit while you were dressed as a formal apology (hilarious costume right?). There is no better way to spend a Thursday night. Bonding I mean; bonding is the best way to spend a Thursday night! Vomiting is not recommended.
On the romantic side, I've realized that if I feel like I'm wasting time with a boy, I am wasting my time. If I don't feel refreshed or, dare I say, happy upon leaving our encounter, I should probably stop encountering him. The boy I'm with (or whatever) right now feels like an old friend. We do bits, smash bits, and talk more than a little bit. I'd be comfortable doing just about anything with him. That is the kind of person I want to be with. Basically a friend who likes to touch my butt. It's really that simple and no one should settle for anything else. Because it's seriously wonderful.
All in all, my first year at Columbia was exactly as wonderful, life-changing, and tear ridden as I thought it would be. I'm a better person today than I was August 26th and that's really all I can ask for. Now I get to experience a summer in the city. I've been told the summers make the winters absolutely worth it. I hope so because this 21 year old body is READY for crop top season. My body is not ready, on the other hand, for the amount of pale ales I'm going to digest within the coming months. But hey, my body will only tolerate crop tops AND heavy drinking for so long so WHY NOT?!?!
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Wink Wink Nudge Nudge
For those of you who don't know, I'm "talking" to a boy. As much as I would like to remain mysterious about who this boy is, there are some pretty adorable pictures of us from his birthday party on my Facebook. Check them out. They're so cute, I almost vomitted.
I know some of you, based on my past entries about boys, are expecting me to say phrases such as "I can't believe he wants to be with a girl like me," "he's changing my life," and/or "I can't imagine life without him." I have a feeling you may be expecting me to say, even after a month of "talking," that I love him.
If I said any of those things, I'd be lying.
Now don't get me wrong, I really like this boy. Holy crap, do I. I wake up in his bed at least three times a week! When I'm with him, it's like I'm with a good friend that I've known for many years. He makes me laugh and I constantly want to kiss him. Constantly. It's kind of ridiculous how much I want to kiss that beautiful, stubbly face of his. Sometimes, I "salivate" just thinking about him (if you know what I mean; wink wink nudge nudge). So yeah. I like him.
I like him but I'm not as madly in love with him as I was with my past boyfriends. I've said "I love you" to the last 3 boyfriends I've had within the first month. I was lying. I wasn't lying when I said it but I later came to realize I didn't mean it. I used to look at love as one of many stepping stones in a relationship. With each stepping stone, I thought I'd be happier and more fulfilled, not only in the relationship but as a person.
Step one: He likes me.
Step two: He kisses me.
Step three: We make out.
Step four: We have sex.
Step five: He asks me to be his girlfriend.
Step six: I say I love you.
Step seven: He says it back.
Step eight: He meets my family.
And so on...
That's how I thought relationships were supposed to go. Oh man was I wrong. I would say love too early because it was next on the list. Sadly, the list didn't include one important factor. Every time I said, "I love you," I might as well have been saying "I want you to love me." With every passing relationship, I see that I was just trying to fill a void. I've been in relationships that I knew would never last with because I didn't think I could find anyone else. I "needed" a person. I can honestly say, that is no longer the case. If he decided to stop talking to me tomorrow, I'm not gonna lie, I'd have a good long cry. I'd call Jordan and Glo, we'd watch Wet Hot American Summer and eat fried chicken until my tears turn into laughter. It will hurt like a bitch but I will survive. I love myself enough to know that having him in my life is a choice, not a necessity.
Not being madly in love with him right away has nothing to do with him as a person. It's not that the others were better or our "love" was more passionate. He isn't even different (he is much cooler but still a cute, funny boy). I'm different now. As I've been spending more and more time with this boy, I do feel the urge to call this love. I'll be watching him running around his room getting ready for the day, singing the objects he needs to put in his bookbag and I'll think, "Man, I love him." In that moment, I stop myself and realize this is just infatuation. Then I enjoy the moment rather than analyzing it as love. BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, he is so cute when he riffs the word "wallet."
My big moral for today is not mistaking love with infatuation, I guess. Also not letting this big scary monster called "love" get in the way of things too soon. If you find yourself liking someone and feeling those butterflies, try to take a step back and separate those two deceivingly similar feelings. It has helped this "relationship" immensely.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
I know some of you, based on my past entries about boys, are expecting me to say phrases such as "I can't believe he wants to be with a girl like me," "he's changing my life," and/or "I can't imagine life without him." I have a feeling you may be expecting me to say, even after a month of "talking," that I love him.
If I said any of those things, I'd be lying.
Now don't get me wrong, I really like this boy. Holy crap, do I. I wake up in his bed at least three times a week! When I'm with him, it's like I'm with a good friend that I've known for many years. He makes me laugh and I constantly want to kiss him. Constantly. It's kind of ridiculous how much I want to kiss that beautiful, stubbly face of his. Sometimes, I "salivate" just thinking about him (if you know what I mean; wink wink nudge nudge). So yeah. I like him.
I like him but I'm not as madly in love with him as I was with my past boyfriends. I've said "I love you" to the last 3 boyfriends I've had within the first month. I was lying. I wasn't lying when I said it but I later came to realize I didn't mean it. I used to look at love as one of many stepping stones in a relationship. With each stepping stone, I thought I'd be happier and more fulfilled, not only in the relationship but as a person.
Step one: He likes me.
Step two: He kisses me.
Step three: We make out.
Step four: We have sex.
Step five: He asks me to be his girlfriend.
Step six: I say I love you.
Step seven: He says it back.
Step eight: He meets my family.
And so on...
That's how I thought relationships were supposed to go. Oh man was I wrong. I would say love too early because it was next on the list. Sadly, the list didn't include one important factor. Every time I said, "I love you," I might as well have been saying "I want you to love me." With every passing relationship, I see that I was just trying to fill a void. I've been in relationships that I knew would never last with because I didn't think I could find anyone else. I "needed" a person. I can honestly say, that is no longer the case. If he decided to stop talking to me tomorrow, I'm not gonna lie, I'd have a good long cry. I'd call Jordan and Glo, we'd watch Wet Hot American Summer and eat fried chicken until my tears turn into laughter. It will hurt like a bitch but I will survive. I love myself enough to know that having him in my life is a choice, not a necessity.
Not being madly in love with him right away has nothing to do with him as a person. It's not that the others were better or our "love" was more passionate. He isn't even different (he is much cooler but still a cute, funny boy). I'm different now. As I've been spending more and more time with this boy, I do feel the urge to call this love. I'll be watching him running around his room getting ready for the day, singing the objects he needs to put in his bookbag and I'll think, "Man, I love him." In that moment, I stop myself and realize this is just infatuation. Then I enjoy the moment rather than analyzing it as love. BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, he is so cute when he riffs the word "wallet."
My big moral for today is not mistaking love with infatuation, I guess. Also not letting this big scary monster called "love" get in the way of things too soon. If you find yourself liking someone and feeling those butterflies, try to take a step back and separate those two deceivingly similar feelings. It has helped this "relationship" immensely.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Blow Out The Candles
When I'm not so busy, I will have a full blog about my 21st and what happened and how much fun I had and all that jazz but I want to leave a little post here for now.
Thursday night, I was at a cast party where a cake was bought for my birthday. After the singing was finished, there were candles to be blown out. One of my cast members told me to make a wish.
I looked down and said the following in complete and total honesty:
"I have everything I want right now."
Gratitude feels great. Everyone should try it.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Thursday night, I was at a cast party where a cake was bought for my birthday. After the singing was finished, there were candles to be blown out. One of my cast members told me to make a wish.
I looked down and said the following in complete and total honesty:
"I have everything I want right now."
Gratitude feels great. Everyone should try it.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Like Or Like Like
LOL JK from my last post, I kind of have a love life. There's a boy and this is the lyric that I identify with him because I have a hard time coming up with my own creative way to display my emotions, contrary to what this blog makes you think.
"But...I have a friend, with whom I like to spend any time I can find with.
I like sleeping in your bed,
I like knowing what is going on inside your head,
I like taking time and I like your mind,
And I like when your hand is in mine."
I like him and that's my story.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
"But...I have a friend, with whom I like to spend any time I can find with.
I like sleeping in your bed,
I like knowing what is going on inside your head,
I like taking time and I like your mind,
And I like when your hand is in mine."
I like him and that's my story.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
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