Cold Shoulder

I've been an awful person lately -the worst possible version of myself. Turns out, my old psychiatrist put me on the wrong medicine. I don't have anxiety, I have a mood disorder which does not require Lexipro. So for almost a year I've been swallowing a pill every night that has not only NOT been helping me, but also has increased my appetite and slowed my metabolism. I'd stop taking it but my body will go through withdraw. My new psychiatrist is on vacation until march 4th. I've already lasted a year so I can wait a bit longer.


So many people in my life deserve apologies for me being an awful/absent/selfish friend lately.


I had rehearsal last night for Imaginarium (the children's show that travels to schools in North Philly over spring break). I got there early to eat my dinner and saw that there were auditions being held for something. My friend (and easily sweetest human in the world) Nathan, asked, "Kate, are you auditioning for the summer stock Missouri program?" I hadn't even heard of the program , plus I have an internship in NYC so I wouldn't be able to anyhow. I told him that, and then this Boy who embodies absolutely everything I hate about Musical Theater majors says "yeah well you need a prepared song for the audition anyway." So, hating a condescending tone and loving any chance to piss off a snob I said "Well, I could always just audition for the hell of it." and Boy says "You need sheet music. You don't have sheet music. What would you even sing?" and simply to get a reaction I said " Happy Birthday." tat answer is like nails on a chalk board to any musically inclined person. "I think they know how to play that without sheet music. Brb!" and I auditioned. The guy really liked me and talked to me for about 10 minutes. Apparently people don't just do impromptu auditions for this place and he said he was pleasantly surprised by me. I just smiled at R.J.


The "snow" cancelled two of my classes today and my third class was cancelled for other reasons. So, I'm sitting in my freshly cleaned living room next to my sleeping cat. The shades are open and the lights are off which feels perfect. I know in my last update I complained about being lonely, but I think I was confused. There's a huge difference between lonely and lost but the two often get blurred. I felt lonely because I knew something was wrong, had been wrong, with me for a while. I haven't been myself lately - the person I want to be. So, I blamed it on something easy and shallow. I don't miss having someone, I miss having control over my moods or at least with how I choose to handle them. My family and friends are perfect though. They know something's off and have more patience with me right now than I deserve.


I want it to be warm. I want my brain to be balanced. I want to wear sundresses and drink iced tea in class. And I want to the days to be longer. And I want everyone I love to be in one place for a bit so I can say sorry and hug everyone and tell them I'm trying really hard to get back to being myself.

Last Update Continued...

I'm lonely and I don't know how else to say it.


Both of my roommates have boyfriends who are always over. Almost all of my friends have boyfriends or girlfriends. And I'm lonely but don't let guys get close to me. Or anyone really. The only thing I keep close enough to comfort me is my acting/ comedy. Everyone disappoints me, which I suppose is my fault for having such high expectations. Or, maybe I'm just looking in the wrong places.

Lonely

"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! "

-The Holiday

aqqqqqqqq <- That's from Ophie walking across my keyboard.



I'm so happy I have such a solid group of loyal friends here. Nothing is more important.



I decided to focus mainly on play writing, sketch comedy, standup, and improv. I'd be a doctor and fix people but I'm a squeamish one with unsteady hands. So, I'll just try to make them laugh instead.



I would type more but Ophelia is being needy.

My Wolf Pack Grew

Last Sunday was, without doubt, one of the best days I've ever had. Aside from getting into the pre-show party without paying and then meeting some of the funniest comedians currently on SNL, I made semi-friends with one of the writers who told me he'll "put me on the list" when he comes to do stand up at Helium Comedy Club. ANNNNND the wonderful human who got us in to the party turned out to be the producer of the theater we were at and is now going to give me a summer internship. AAAAANNNNNNNNDDDD I got to hang out with my sister in our favorite city.

Save Tonight

Last night was perfect. I want to live there and never leave.

Do You Believe in Life After Love? afterloveafterloveafterlove

Hi Philadelphia! I'm going to be in you for a while now. THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.



A few highlights from the past 24 hours:

1. In rehearsal with Maurice and Mr. Richardson, I had to face one of the most terrifying challenges of my week: being dipped. Though I couldn't say it to his face, Mo has skinny arms and I have more gravitational pull than he's used to dealing with (his girlfriend is roughly 95lbs). So when he finally dipped me, I bit my lip in an honest attempt to refrain from screaming. However, in biting my lip, my face contorted into what some may consider to resemble a retarded gremlin. He laughed, breaking his focus, and we both hit the floor. Indiana, PA aint ready for this flava, SUCKAAAA!


2. Slept until 3pm this afternoon. In my sleep I had a dream. I dreamt that Kenan Thompson took me on a date to see Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel. Actually, I had a dream that he said he was going to see Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel and I told him the Ritz was on my way home and just invited myself in with him. Either way, I had to change my skivvies when I woke up. Wait, what?


3. Finally ventured out into the biting Philadelphia air to get a coffee and travel shampoo bottles around 5pm. The new Sunoco is so classy! I saw that they had Hazelnut flavored freshly brewed coffee and got all sorts of tingles in all sorts of places. I tried for a minute or so to get the coffee out of the machine (trying all sorts of tactics like calling it a dumb cunt, rubbing it and telling it it was the only spout for me then calling it a dumb cunt again) the cashier came over and told me only the house blend was available at the time but that they offered hazelnut creamer. Yay! Coffee in hand, caffeine-withdrawal headache subsiding, I started towards CVS. While waiting for the light to turn green and the friendly little orange unisex figure to signal me to walk, a man asked me for directions to Pat's Steaks. He had an accent and it took me a minute and a few "Huh?"s to finally translate pazztakes to pat's steaks. A bum in camo who witnessed this whole exchange wished me good tidings as I crosses Washington Avenue just in time to see the CVS doors lock. Damn. I didn't want to turn around and walk past the bum so I kept going forward, hoping 9th street Rite Aid would still be open. I turned onto Carpenter and heard someone behind me. Now, I was alone at night in the city. So I decided I should use the advice the campus safety police provided to us in a student-wide email. I quickened my pace, took out my phone, found the first house that looked like someone was inside. Veering off to the right to stand in front of the house I acted like I was calling someone inside to let me in. At this point my "follower" would be (according to campus safety officials) warned off by my social connections. I wish I could tell you that my plan worked. However, my "follower" was, in fact, an upsettingly handsome-yet-still-rugged man that seemed to be of Latin or Native American decent. Tall. Dark. Handsome. The exchange went something like this:

Him: Howdy!
Me: Good! How ar- ugh, I mean... Hi!
Him: (walking up the stairs to the house I was standing in front of) You looking for Chris?
Me: What? Who's- oh, no... I didn't know who was behind me so I acted like I knew who lived here because I was scared.
Him: (silence)
Me: hah. bye. (walking away, hitting head with free hand) stupid! stupid!

Luckily, Rite Aid was open! As I was decided which travel shampoo bottle I wanted, Faith Hill came on the radio and I just started crying. My mom hates Faith Hill and is always the one to take care of travel-sized hygiene product packing. But then I saw cat toys and decided I'd get some for Ophy. I was still semi-teary as the cute ex-con checked me out (rung me up sounds dirty) and gave me a Rite Aid Frequent Shoppers Monopoly game pamphlet and all my tears dried right up! Then I came home, watched 30 Rock as I cleaned and rearranged my room, Ophy farted on my bed and spilled my water on my clothes, and is currently passed out next to me. It's the little things, ya know?