…dream a little dream for me.

life just never seems to turn out the way I planned it.  try as I may, this funny little thing called life gets in the way of my plans.  life gets in the way of itself.  quite a juxtaposition, it seems.

at times, I freely roll with the punches. often I find myself throwing the 22-year-old’s version of a temper tantrum when I don’t get my way.

it’s a sad realization to know that you can never have all that you always wanted.  some things are beyond my control, I suppose.

simply put, I wish I could turn back time and change the future.

I wish things were different.

…living in twilight.

I can’t live up.

I face insurmountable odds.

Nothing I do will ever be good enough.

I can always be counted on to do the wrong thing.

I am perfectly skilled at not measuring up.

I try and I try, and I fail constantly.

There’s no way to fix it.

I quit.

I manage to always do the wrong thing.

I win with one, yet fail with another.

I’m at a loss for words.

It’s pointless.

I lose any way I go about it.

There is no clear choice anymore.

And there is no longer a “right” choice to make.

….i never stray too far from the sidewalk.

a casual afternoon of hanging out with friends.

it seemed that at the best moments in her life on word could set off a memory to ruin everything.  she couldn’t say anything, it would seem as if she were trying to make them feel sorry for her.  or worse, that she was trying to show off her scars.  she wasn’t proud of them, but she had been accused of such in the past, and she would not be again.

that wasn’t the case, though.  the more she opened up and let the memories out, the less they seemed to hurt.  but this was neither the time nor the place.  she wouldn’t ruin the spirit of the afternoon.  no, if she didn’t think about it, the memory would go away.

as friends laughed and conversed, talk to turned to a friend’s plans to wash her car that afternoon.  no harm could possibly be meant be such conversation.  her friend spoke of a slight claustrophobia when in the drive-through automatic car-washers, and then another spoke of his delight from them.  then, suddenly powerless over her own tongue, she heard herself say the words, “I used to be terrified of those things.  I’d cry in them.”  stunned looks on both her friends faces finally silenced her uncontrolled lips.

thankfully, she now gained command of herself and conversation topics moved on without hesitation.  but, she stayed with it, thinking over the things she managed to keep to herself. had her father really “needed” to wash his car every time he had her for the day?

but those memories would stay hidden.  those questions would remain unanswered.

…out of death comes bacon.

no, really, it does.

as does absolutely no sleep, five trips to party city and fifteen trips to walmart in a week (not to mention seven trips to party city), pig, bunny, and kid wrangling and a whole lot of other adventures. adventures such as buying a sickening amount of pink party decorations, a pinata body double, and duncan hines white icing and calling paste.

and believe it or not, it’s not the lack of sleep that drove me to buy $204.89 worth of seeming insanity. no, actually i worked on the set of of the pilot of a new independent sitcom entitled “next song of our new album” written by and starring my friend canedy knowles and her friend kimmy gatewood.

oh, and i forgot the eleven store search for a cookie jar with a face. just so we could smash it and tape it back together, no less. i ended up with a monkey named mr. bo-bo.

i wish i could tell you what my official title was for production, but i honestly don’t know. i was originally called a production assistant, but then moved to the role of assistant director #2 all before production began. after the first meeting i was moved to the role of brenda’s (wardrobe) assistant, but i never got close to doing anything with anyone’s clothes (unless you count the day they decided they liked my shirt so much that it was going to be kimmy’s shirt through half the show). i think i might have been the art director, but i have a feeling i was actually the assistant art director even though i didn’t report to anyone in particular and i was at all the department head meetings. yeah. so that’s my title, in short.

during production i was called many things including “amazing,” “awesome,” and “a miracle worker”. i was quite proud of myself, if i do say so. i managed to acquire everything that was asked of me in a matter of hours, including a live bunny. baby the bunny, although rather demanding in and of herself, turned out to be one of the the least time consuming missions i had to accomplish. the cookie jar was actually the hardest thing to find (they wanted a cow originally), with the two large rhinestone “D” pendants following behind at six stores.

we even made the news a couple times: spot #1 and spot #2

i must say, i am most proud of my my seamless transformation of a pinata from a backyardigans (i don’t know what that is either, that’s what the tag on it told me it was) into a pig much like the piggly-wiggly pig.

“next song of our new album” follows the adventures of the kooter cousins (yes.), an aspiring country music duo trying to get out of soddy daisy to follow in the steps of their beloved dolly parton. each episode chronicles the events that led to the next song on their new album, and culminates with a music video of the song at the end. the pilot episode features the accidental electrocution of the town’s lassie-like pig, bessie, with a microphone cable. these events surrounding her death inspire the song “out of death comes bacon”.

i couldn’t possibly have made any of this up. it’s too funny.

….you were not the same after that.

My severe lack of sleep this week coupled with sudden exhausted insomnia has spurred me on to both sign up and write for the first time in a long time.  Good luck, world, I wish you the best under such harsh circumstances.

Now, on to a few bookkeeping items.

As some astute readers may question my posting titles to be a bit odd, please do not think that I am at all clever.  I use song lyric phrases generally, and occasionally a line from a poem or a Gilmore Girls episode title.  Nothing original unless otherwise noted.

 

Often, I am most inspired to write when depressed, frustrated, or experiencing other negative feelings.  Although this has been suggested in the past in reference to my MySpace writings, I am not overtly depressed or suicidal, I promise.

 

That’s all for now, a real entry shall appear soon, no worries, mate.