Week 14: Oh Crap...

I've reached that point now, where my brain can no longer function properly. I can't focus on anything, I have a bunch of projects due tomorrow, and my chest is aching from caffeine and anxiety. My panic about next year is starting to set in even more now...

Week 13b: Today Was Better (lol jk, anxiety has to rub her filthy hands on everything)

(I wrote both these on Saturday, so "today" refers to December 12th.)

We're having squad Christmas, so I'm cooking an 11lbs chicken that my dad raised, doing homework, and journaling all in one go, so here's hoping this works.

I got to see Paul this morning while I was at home, and I'm so glad. I never get to see him since I moved, so having breakfast with him... it felt like a weight lifted off my chest. My friend Kyle was a total champ today as well. I still wasn't feeling the best, but he hung out and gave me a bunch of hugs, which I really needed.

I'm still kind of nervous that tonight won't work out, or everyone will bail or something, but for now I'm trying to be optimistic that it's going to go okay.

(Just pretend four hours have passed, because for me they have.)

It went okay. The bird wasn't perfect, but I cooked it, and it- for the most part- fell off the bone, but I wish it would've been a bit juicier, and that I'd've carved it faster. All in all though, it wasn't a bad night though.

(Hey look, time passed before I edited this.)

I feel like the past few days has just been measured by time between panic attacks, not real time. I almost had one at the grocery store, had one shortly before writing this journal, and my roommate talked me out of one before I edited this journal. I love school, theatre, and this program, but I'm in so much pain from anxiety that it feels like I'm going to physically crack a rib from how tight my chest is. I missed class on Friday, because I woke up having an anxiety attack. Even in my friggin sleep I'm so stressed I'm panicking.

What am I going to do next semester..?

Week 13a: Compelling and Believable

A screencap from our scene. Tanisha played Estragon (a hallucinated
voice in my head), and I played Vladimir (Didi).

So for our final exams for acting, instead of having us a write a conventional sit-down, we were given a scene study. Breaking on groups of two, each pair was given 2 pages from the play “Waiting for Godot” and were allowed to present it, or stylize it in any way they chose. Tanisha and I partnered up and decided to do it as a schizophrenic addict fighting with one of the voices in her head.

After we presented, one of the things that Mark mentioned was that something about my portrayal of character was both “compelling and believable”. I think that's the most positive thing about being crazy, I've even heard.

I love how surprised people get when I can play “crazy” well. I'm going to let y'all in on a secret. It's not acting, so much as it is accepting and replaying.

I've watched enough people smoked (and smoked enough myself) to know what someone looks and acts like when they smoke. I've been around enough addicts to tell when they're itching for a hit, all I really do, is emulate what they'd do. I have enough crazy in my head, that all I had to do was let some of it show.

Week 12c: Casting!

We've auditioned just about everyone for Georgia, there's just a few videos, then we'll be sitting down to do it on Monday at lunch.

Week 12b: On A Completely Unrelated Note

My doctor thinks I'm allergic to the residence building or the school or something, so I'm being put on steroids to see if it fixes all the problems I've been having with my eyes/ears/nose/throat/tonsils. Like, it'll either help or it won't but I'm hoping it does so I can put my energy back into Georgia. 

I'm also going back on my anti-depressants, so here's hoping it'll help again. 

Week 12a: Ohana My Ass

My schedule for Weeks 12-14 is a little full. Just a tad. Excuse me while I schedule in time

to cry.

I don't know if it's because it's winter, or it's just my depression clouding my view on things, but as of late I've just felt so left out. It feels like we started the year as one giant, close-knit family, and everyone was friends with everyone. But now? I just feel so... lonely. Like, all the time. Everyone's found their squad, their crew, their family, except me. It feels like I'm in a bubble or something. I know lots of people, and I know people from every social circle, but I'm not close with anyone. I'm just kind of an outcast.

It's like high school. I was always the mom. I helped plan the parties, the camping trips and the birthday surprises, but I was never invited along, never really one of the group. Even on the off-chance that I got to go, I'd often end up babysitting drunk girls, and cleaning up other people's messes. I get to write student council on my resume, but I never really got to do much, just be a lackie and a messenger. Even working at the shop was like this. I ate lunch with everyone, I got invited to the bar a few times, but I never really fit in, I was never one of the guys.

College is starting to feel like this. Planning parties, reminding every one of assignments and exams, but never really feeling like I'm part of anything. Even now, with people that I think are my best friends, the self-doubt starts to creep into the back of my mind. I've had a few people now tell me that I should be a stage manager, because I keep everyone in line. I don't know if I ever could though, if this is how lonely the life of an SM is.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind taking care of other people, it's something I've been doing my whole life. But sometimes I really, really just need someone to hug me, and ask me if I'm okay. 

This got hella depressing...

Week 11: No

No.

Just. No.

This whole week has been a mess.

I've been a mess. I'm so sick, I'm like a ball of anxiety and I just can't. How am I ever going to handle a "real" college program, if this is just a one year certificate? Like, I can't keep doing this. I'm so sleep deprived, and such a mess all the time. I had another anxiety attack on Thursday night and tore a hole in my arm. Like a literal hole. My forearm is all swollen now and the skin's all itchy and warm, so I think it's already infected.

I can't keep this up for three more weeks. Like I physically can't handle it.

Shit...

Week 10c: Quick Show Update

We've editted Georgia, and Conor and Jackson have re-worked the music and wrote a couple new songs. We also now have a venue (Oakville Centre for the Performing Arts) and dates (February 10-12, 2016)  to do our show (hint hint!). It's slowly but surely coming together, which is super exciting. The biggest challenge for me now is finding $7 000. So on that note, if anyone has $7 000 that they don't know what to do with...

I've also got the Cabaret show with TYT coming up in a month, and it's getting kind of stressful. We've got the music for the most part, it's things like blocking now that are getting kind of testy. I really hope we can pull this off. It would suck if my first show at a professional theatre to not go well. Only time will tell I guess.

Week 10b: Why Armstrong's War Hurt So Bad

The Citadel's promotional art for Armstong's
War.

Content Note: WARNING! HUGE SPOILER'S FOR THE PLAY ARMSTRONG'S WAR! IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT, BUT WANT TO, SKIP THIS POST, I RUIN THE WHOLE PLOT.

So Armstrong's War hurt deep on a lot of levels for me. I was a mess after watching it, and walked out of our talk-back afterwards, because I physically couldn't hold it together any longer.

So this whole post is basically going to be one big shit-show glance into my mind, and explain why I was such a bloody mess, and why I am how I am.

• In the show, Michael struggles with dealing with his post-traumatic stress, especially in the form of flashbacks, triggers and nightmares. For years I dealt with this, and even now still have nightmares about things that happened years ago, or wake up having a panic attack.

  

  Shane and I from about a year ago.

• Seeing Michael like that for me, was like seeing my worst nightmare played out. One of my friends from Elmira, Shane, is stationed out west right now, and since I found out he was going to basic training I've had the continual fear that he'll get sent to the Middle East, and come back a different man than the guy I knew in high school.
• An even bigger fear for me is that one day I'm going to pick up the phone, and it's going to be his girlfriend, or my best friend and that'll be it. Like, I can't even fucking spell it out, that is how scared I am. My heart always skips a beat when I see that it's her calling, because I'm terrified of what the first words out of her mouth will be.

  

  Ricky, on a school trip to Ireland. I know I talk about him a lot, but I love
  this guy. He taught me one of the most life lessons I'll ever learn.

  
  

• Hearing Michael talk to his friend killed me. For months after my friend Ricky passed away, I used to lie in bed and talk to him, yell at him, curse him. Even now, sometimes I still talk to him. I know he can't hear me, but I want to so badly believe that he can, even if it's just for a second, because I don't want to think about a world without him.
  

There were two things that really sealed the deal for how much this show hurt, though. 

• When Halley told the story about how she lost her father and how she ended up in a wheelchair I completely lost it. I was just straight up sobbing by that point. (Which, sitting in the front row, I feel bad about, because that would've been hella distracting for Alex and Paolo.) Hearing about how Alex was paralysed in a car accident killed me. I've mentioned it before, but I was in a car accident in March. We were so lucky not to be hurt worse than we were (concussions, whiplash, cuts and bruises everywhere), but a few of us were still brought to hospital on spine boards. I'm never going to forget the look of fear in the paramedics eyes when I said I had pain in my head, neck, shoulders chest and spine. That feeling of being viced, knowing that this isn't lifeguard training, this time it's real. That night is such a blur, and yet some moments will haunt me forever. I remember lying on the board, shivering in the -20C degree air, with my coat fallin

  

  A silly selfie Abi and I took a few hours before. It's
  still so weird for me to look at this photo.

  g off and bare legs. I remember looking at the stars and wondering what was going to happen. I remember thinking about how cold I was, and thinking about how that meant that nerves in my spinal chord were still connected. I remember panicking as the cold started to ebb away, because I didn't know if that meant that I was numb from the cold, or numb from something else. My mind raced about Sheridan, which suddenly didn't feel so certain; Khalil and Avery, whom I'd just met there a couple weeks ago; would I ever dance again? I thought about Peter, Staci and Abi, none of whom I could see or hear anymore. I thought about Shane, so far away from Abi, and the panic he must be feeling. Slowly, the realization of my situation begin to sink in. I was strapped to a backboard so tight that it left cuts in my arms and legs, a collar that left digging bruises for weeks after. The paramedics weren't talking to me, but I could see the worry and grim emotion etched into everyone's face. That look of "Oh shit" was seeping out of their pores, like some kind of noxious cologne. Seeing all of that, remembering all of that, and seeing how different my life would've been if Abi would've let me have the front seat still terrifies me. All that. All that stacking emotion, mixed with the look on Halley's face as she painstakingly accounted every last second, every last breath of her dad's life, seeing the scars and the hurt that will never really, truly leave her fucked me up bad.

Graphic designed by Nick Pegg.

• That look of disgust and dejection painted on Michael's face when he started to talk about hope, and what it does to a person. Hope, this honest, pure emotion that is supposed to get humans through the hardest, most painful experiences in their life. And now, Michael was describing it like a cancer, like something vile. All because for one moment, he let himself believe that things could be okay. And that thought, that worry that one day I may become as jaded and damaged as Michael, or as irrevocably broken as Halley scares me more than anything else.

Week 10a: Pain and the Human Experience

A still of Alex McCulloch (Halley Armstrong) and Paolo Santalucia
(Michael Armstrong) in Canadian Rep Theatre's production of
Armstrong's War. The show plays at The Citadel in Toronto from
November 11-December 6, 2015.

So as you saw from my post "Depression Is..." last week, it's been a hard couple of weeks for me. Maybe it's just the reality of transitions and life hitting me really hard, or maybe it's just depression rearing its nasty head, but the long and the short of it is that I'm not alright.

But for as much as it sucks, this is life. However, life isn't about hurt, pain and trials,  it's about the journey around them. This week especially has been reminding me if that.

On top of all the pressure and struggling I've been under from school already, this has been a challenging week because of others as well. I had a professor (accidentally, I hope) humiliate me in front of my entire program, and a stranger wrote awful things about me over Yik Yak (a popular anonymous social app for college students). But I think for me, the hardest experience of the last couple weeks, has oddly enough been going to see the show Armstrong's War by Colleen Murray.

If you've never been to The Citadel, the theatre is very small with the stage on the floor, and a capacity of maybe 75 people. It's an understatement to say it was intimate. Not only could I hear Dylan's breathing (he was right beside me) I could hear and peripherally see every time Khalil shuffled positions (He was on the other end of the row). Sitting front and centre, I was so close to the stage I could've spit and hit the back screen.

I've never been nervous at a show. Not being in a show, watching a show where I knew some of the cast, or even seeing a new show, but for Armstrong's War I walked into the theatre and immediately felt off. Sitting down, I was so close to Paolo I could see individual strands of hair. It was strange, waiting for a show and knowing how impervious Paolo was to my presence, and feeling so exposed. Even more so than if I was on the stage with him. As the show started I was baffled to realise that I was feeling anxious and not even for him, but anxious over my own emotions.

I don't want to give the show away, but I can say that it hit a lot of sore spots for me. Pain over some of my friends, my own experiences, and the invisible scars that traumatic events often leave. It

Pain is part of the human experience; to deny it is to deprive yourself of growth.

Week 9b: Mortality & Endings

Tanisha, Marisa, Ali, Eriq, Bryce and Karlee getting ready for a group
project.

I've been thinking a lot about mortality as of late. 

I don't know why. Maybe it's from all the time I've spent thinking about Georgia, and all the work we're doing on it. It's freaking me out though, I forever feel paranoid. 

Maybe it's just because we spend our lives together. We're forever in class, or working on group projects, and now Georgia. We're 2 months into our 8-month life together, and it's been flying by. Maybe it's just myself panicking at the realization that even as I watch, my time is slipping away. We've barely gotten here, and we're already getting ready for next year... getting ready to leave.

I think I'm just... scared...

Week 9a: Depression Is...

Depression is eating Mac & Cheese or eggs again, because it's all you have the energy to make.

Depression is not being able to afford anything else anyway.

Depression is stealing your roommate's fruit so you don't die of scurvy.

Depression is surrounding yourself with people you love and still feeling alone.

Depression is forever being to tired to go see the ones you love.

Depression is forcing yourself to go see them in the hopes of feeling better, even if it's just for a moment.

Depression is still not feeling better, than going home and regretting everything you said and did.

Depression is the cancer that turns you from an honour roll student and future doctor to a high school flunk out.

Depression is the virus that has you stumbling through a 1 year college program.

Depression is finally being able to do what you love and not even getting to experience the joy.

Depression is the heartless bitch that took the light from your eyes.

Depression is the plague that sucked the happiness from your life.

Depression is the evil ex-boyfriend who worms back into your life the second you think you've finally healed.

Depression is like walking down train tracks, only to be trampled by a moose.

Depression is being scared to have children.
Depression is fearing how badly you could possibly screw them up.
Depression is being racked with guilt at the possibility of damning your kids to the same nightmare you can't escape.

Depression is not needing the devil because you can fuck yourself up without any help.

Depression is having your own worst nightmare looking back at you in the mirror.

Depression is breaking your clean streaks over nothing.

Depression is being a slave to little strips of metal.

Depression is cutting after almost 2 years clean, over someone who doesn't give a shit about you.

Depression is pretending that those little cuts will keep you sane.

Depression is not even bothering to hide your scars, because you're out of shits to give.

Depression is never having a shit to give. About anything.

Depression is the project due in 10 hours that you've done barely anything on.

Depression is lying in bed for 6 hours, just hating your own existance.

Depression is trying to pretend you don't know about all the pills on your dresser.

Depression is finally escaping and still feeling like a caged bird.

Depression is deperately wanting to call for help, but fearing the reality that your friends probably don't care.

Depression is running out of things to say.

Depression is having so much left to say, but being out of words.

Depression is a motherfucker.

Depression is.

Week 8b: SODA POP and Georgia

So this week, I think the course of my entire life may have just changed.

Conor and Jackson have been playing with the idea of reviving their original musical Georgia with a bunch of the preps, and Conor has come to me about producing the show with him as well as being the executive director of his company SODA POP (Students Of Dramatic Arts & Parents Of Performers). I'm super excited to be apart of a project like this, and super nervous that I'm going to screw it up. I'm also apprehensive that between school, TYT, going home to work and now Georgia that I'm going to stretch myself too thin again.

I always do this to myself. I swear I'm either insane, or the world's stupidest masochist, and I'm going to give myself either a heart attack, hernia or stroke.

Week 8a- Khalil & Kash

The program art from Thousand Island Playhouse's
production of Salt-Water Moon in 2013.

Note: This will be sitting in drafts for a bit until I'm ready to publish weeks 5, 6, 7 & Motown but I need to write this all now while it's still in my head.

So Khalil and I are doing a scene from Salt-Water Moon by David French, and it is so hard. The dialogue itself isn't all that difficult, we're only doing about seven pages, and it's a lot of banter. It's the words in the words, the emotions, and the deliberation behind every word that's killing me.

Everything I've been in, I've always been more of an extra, or I at least had the freedom to build my character. With Mary, I can't do that. She isn't some character who's only there for a few scenes, or is just there for atmosphere, the whole show is about her and Jacob. She has a plot, a life, a personality all established.

The fact is, I'm not Mary, and I'm nothing like her. French describes her as "...seventeen, a slender, fine-boned, lovely girl with short black hair." She's young, smart and witty, with a sense of humour that's sharp. She's strong and independent, the kind of woman who fights for everything good, like her sister, like her freedom. She's competent, confident and a fighter. She's everything I wish I could be and never managed to be.

I'm really struggling to play her so much right now, and I'm so jealous of how easily Khalil's been playing Jacob. It's like he blinks, and suddenly he's a 17-year-old Newfie who's worked as a fisherman and a mason. Not only that, but it pisses me off how jealous I am at Khalil's talent. I feel like a bloody 4 year old and it drives me mad.

October 26-30: Reading Week

Jeremy and I trying to keep it together in class. I failed. Twice.

So this week was reading week, and I have accomplished exactly nothing with my life since... October 22, which is pretty pathetic given that it's October 30th. To combat that, I'm going to spend the next hour and a half writing as many journals as I can while I wash my bedding. And before you freak out or get disgusted, I swear it's not the first load of laundry I've done at school. It's not even the first time I've done my bedding, I've just decided to spend my Friday like this. Have a silly selfie while I try and find my charger.

Oh, I forgot to mention, no more dance journals. I know they were super riveting and it was the content that everyone looked forward to with eager anticipation, but that project is over, so no more dance. (I just looked back, and in the 4 days leading up to and including the due date, I had over 210 page hits, all on dance journals.) That said, if I actually accomplish something badass, or do something really stupid, I'll obviously blog about it so you can all bask in my endless stupidity.

I also lied, we did a workshop with a few members of the traveling company of Motown: The Musical, but that get's its own post.

Week 7b: Reading Week Needs To Be Now

So I got a 67% on my ballet midterm. Excuse me while I go pack my bags.

If you google "Elmira" this is the only
non-geographical picture that shows up. I'm not
even joking, try it right now.

In all seriousness though, I'm so mad. I've been working so hard in my classes, putting in so much effort, and I've really been trying, and yet my downfall will be pliés and sautés. UGH! I'm not about this life.

I'm really starting to stress though. I've been shedding hair like crazy, I'm starting to become sleep deprived, and I'm getting sick. I can feel the symptoms of my anxiety coming back and it's worrying me, which in turn just makes me more anxious. It's a vicious circle of worry and I'm going to make myself sick again.

I'm also starting to panic about Musical Theatre next year as well. All I really want for my future right now is to get into MT but I don't think I'm going to cut it. At the same time though, I'm not 100% sure I can even cut it in prep. People are dropping out left, right and centre. Every week or two there's one less person here, one less voice in choir. I'm terrified that I'll become the next empty chair, the next Ingrid joke. I don't want to be the crazy girl that dropped out of college because she couldn't even take care of herself for a couple weeks.

Even if I do get into MT, what if I can't cut it? People drop out every year. What if I go through all the hoops to get in and then drop out the first week? Or worse, two or three years in with nothing to show for it. Then what? I can't go back to Elmira. Not like that.

What am I going to do?

Movement & Dance I- Midterm Review

So for the past 7 weeks, I've been taking Ballet Foundations (Movement & Dance I), and, at my professor's request, I've blogged the whole experience. I've noticed a lot of changes, but I've also seen a lot of things that still need to be fixed.

The biggest change I've noticed hasn't actually been something external, it's been internal. I've found that "that feeling" has bit by bit, started to come back. That magical feeling you get in your soul when you dance. That happy feeling of carefree bliss that you feel radiate through your body. It's better than any high, and I'm slowly starting to find it again.

I've noticed that my balance is getting better as well. It's a smaller change but it's one of those little ones you notice gradually over time. My left leg in particular is becoming stronger, and I've noticed that it's a lot easier to hold my retirés in comparison to a few weeks back, and even my arabesques are beginning to wobble less. However, my right leg now needs to catch up, as I still wobble way to much. I've also been getting better at avoiding a death grip on the barre, which was a struggle initially. My chaînés have also been benefitting, and I managed to go all the way across the floor on Monday without losing my balance, or spot, which was a huge moment of pride for me.

My leg extension is starting to improve, predominantly with my grand battements, and I'm slowly but surely getting higher with my extensions. That said though, I still need to work on my developpé because I can't get overly high, and there's a lot of tension in my tibialis anterior, tibialis posterior and soleus muscles. While that is an issue that affects a lot of movements and positions, I find that it's the most noticeable with developpés.

While I have made improvements there are still things that I need to fix though, and the biggest is that I need to relax. I started watching myself in the mirror on Monday, and I honestly looked ready to commit murder or something. I just looked so furious, like I was being put through some operatic tragedy by being there. I've also become aware of how much it affects my movements. I'm trying to hold a level of professionalism, and seriousness, but I feel like that is now starting to encroach on my ability to move and feel as a dancer.

I'm still struggling with my knees, but it's becoming a little better. I'm catching myself now when I start to flex my knees, and it's becoming faster, but I'm still doing it, which I'd rather not.

So here it is, the sum of the last 7 weeks of my life dancing. I'm by no means good, I have so far to go, but I've come decently far from where I was before, so I've got that going for me. I'm eager to see how the next 7 weeks unfold, and to see how my abilities grow, or stagnate (which hopefully won't happen).

Movement & Dance I- October 19 (Midterms)

So I danced my midterm, and it was... okay. 

I did have problems, though. I was having issues with my feet on Sunday night and throughout Monday. This meant that I was struggling to put weight or pressure on the heels of my feet, to the point where I couldn't even get my shoes on, and danced barefoot. 

Some things were okay. I could do tendus alright because I could stay more on the balls of my feet, but plies were an absolute nightmare. I looked like I was attempting a grande plie but got stuck part way down. 

I made a lot of small mistakes as well. A misplaced arm, the wrong direction en croix, or having my feet apart, or not quite in first (stupid heels), but I managed to not screw up too horribly badly. I think.

Sautés almost killed me though. When I was doing them, I was trying to avoid going down to low, but I'd flub, and slam one of my heels into the floor, or during the changement I whacked my heels off of each other a couple times and almost cried. 

It was bloody hard, and my legs still ache, but I think overall, it could have been a lot worse, especially given the circumstances. 

Week 7a: Low-Key Panicking

Feet are gross and I hate them.

Tomorrow is my dance midterm. As it is, I can't stand, because my heels have split open so badly that even grazing them sends shooting pain up my foot and leg. I'm going to fail. So yeah, if I flunk out and have to move back home, left the world know: my feet suck and I hate everything right now.

Week 6: Thanksgiving & Politics (Seasoned with Baseball)

So I went home for Thanksgiving and I VOTED IN MY FIRST FEDERAL ELECTION. The problem is, I done goofed and never took a photo (whoops) so I'm going to steal Sean's post-voting selfie, and call it a day.

That's it. It was one of those weeks where pictures just show things so much better than I could explain anything.

When I went home for Thanksgiving, my sister wanted to go on a hike, so we went as a family. Left to right is my Mom, Dad, Uncle Rob, Aunt Cheryl, Katelyn, Aunt Sandra, Gram, my sister Tami and her husband Logan. Missing are my cousins Jake, Darcie and Tyler, and my uncle Duane.

Oh, and Meghan! So my friend Meghan is from St. Louis, Missouri, and this will be her first Thanksgiving away from home. Not only that, but most of Gamma (including me) live close enough to school to go home for the weekend. I didn't want to leave Meghan alone, especially knowing how big of a deal American Thanksgiving is, so I brought her home with me for the weekend. German themed Thanksgiving with the world's biggest Cardinals fan in a house of Blue Jay fans, was interesting, but it made for some really lively banter. 

But yeah, all in all, not a bad time. Plus I got a great picture of Meghan with a bag of rice, so that was also fun.

Movement & Dance I- October 14

So today I missed class because I was sick. Today is also the last day of class before our midterm assessment. I'm going to be doing that assessment after not dancing for 2 weeks. This is going to be terrifying, and I fear for my marks in this class.

Movement & Dance- October 12

Today's Thanksgiving, so there's no class.

Week 5b: Shows and Seriousness (And Also TYT)

So John made this hilarious discovery at Second City. This is the 
desktop on the sound designer's computer. I'm never going to stop 
laughing about it.

Y'all. We saw one of our profs, Adeen Ashton, in Mary Poppins at the Lower Ossington Theatre this week and it was great. I love seeing profs work outside of Sheridan, because it's so cool to see them in the throws of their profession.

We also went to Second City, which is where our prof Geri Hall got her start. While not every sketch was perfect, and it wasn't my favourite show, most of the sketches were amazing, and I loved them.

School's been getting more stressful though. More projects, less money, and now an added extra.

Because I clearly hate sleep, and want to add even more to my schedule, I decided to join Toronto Youth Theatre, and we're putting on a cabaret at the Lower Ossington Theatre in Toronto during the last week of school. Why am I doing something else to add to my busy schedule? I don't know, but it's going to be a great experience, and I'm so crazy excited.

Week 5a: We Make Our Families

Me, Marisa and Ali

I'm not really sure when I can to realize it. It might have been Week 3 after I wrote “Ohana”, it might have been during all the bus rides I've taken over the last month-month and a half, but I've had what I guess you'd call an epiphany.

We make our own families.

We all have our families back home. Some of us just have one parent, some both biological, and a lot of people in the program come from families with step-parent(s) as well. Some of us are only children, some have one or two siblings, some five or six, and some have enough full, half, and step-siblings to rival the Duggar family. 

Prep kind of transcends that, and we become our own family. So, since thanksgivings coming up, I guess this year, I'm thankful for prep, for giving me the chance to leave Elmira.

Movement & Dance- October 7

A grand battement devant.

This is weird. I feel like I don't have anything to say about this class that I haven't already said in another journal.

1. I still hate my arms. That said, I've noticed I've started getting more "flourishy" with my arms, and adding in little movements at the beginning of an exercise. Steph hasn't said anything about it, positive or negative, and I see some of the other girls do it occasionally, so maybe this is an okay thing to do.

2. I'm literally screwing up the same 3 bloody things every week. I bend my knees when I start to tendu because I still think of figure skating. My grand battements are still lope-sided. I honestly don't even have a "this is why", it just happens. I have to consciously think about where my legs are in relation to the barre, or else I'll have one leg going 6 inches off the ground, and the other will go a metre up.

3. I still slip up and forget what sport I'm doing. I imagine that when watching me dance you can effortlessly tell when my brain goes from "Ballet" to "Figure Skating" because my legs will go from "straight and graceful" to "bent and ready for stroking". I promise you, it's not intentional, my lizard brain just keeps kicking in.

OH! I'm dumb and I lied. Of all things I thought would come easy, I never expected doing a grand battement to a polka to be one of them. I have absolutely no clue how or why, but when Christobelle started playing and we went, my body just sort of did it. I didn't even think about it, it just happened. That was a pretty spectacular feeling, and it did help with the confidence. In fairness though, coordination to music is never something I've struggled with, because since I started figure skating, two of the big focal points were to find the musicality in a movement, and to find where and how the movement fits in a piece of music.

I apparently had a lot to say. Cool.

Movement & Dance- October 5

Chassés are easier to show with the full movement, but I can only use pictures,
so I'm making do. In ballet, chassés are done by one foot sliding out in front of
the other, then having the back foot "chase" after it.

SUCCESS!

So last week we started a bit of work on chassés, but we just touched on them, we didn't do much work because we were running out of time. That said, when we came back to them today, I realized that it was exactly the difference I was looking for. Chassés in ballet are all about that slight change in balance for our port de bras; chassés in skating are all about the changes of edges.

In figure skating, chassés are all about your edges. It's less about your feet
chasing after each other, and more about your change of edge, however, the
name chassé is kept, because the change can't be done without your back foot
chasing the front one.

Anyway, I'm starting to actually enjoy sautés which I never thought I'd say. I've noticed that as the days pass, all the leg muscles I've forgotten about when I stopped swimming and skating are starting to wake back up and engage again. It's starting to feel like when I did the hip hop ministry two years ago. That dancing head space is starting to come easier, the sort of electric intensity is coming back to my body. I've started notice I can push myself harder now too, and that things that were hard at the beginning (the plank in Sun Salutation) is easier to hold and lower. I really enjoy how this is all starting to feel. For how mad I get at myself for not looking as perfect as other girls in my class, at the same time, there's a little piece of me that adores that feeling I get when I'm dancing again, like for just a moment, my soul is free.

Week 4b- Cubes and Jarryd

So this photo is actually from week 3, but it's hands down one of my 

favourite pictures from college thus far, because it's essentially the most 

accurate description of Rez there is. (L-R: (Top) Dylan [Showbiz], 
Kelsey, Scott. (Middle) Cole [Musical Theatre], Josie, Zoe, Me, Justine, 
Greg [Musical Theatre, Floor 3 RA], [Real] John [Media Fundies]. 
(Bottom) Melissa

Do you ever have one of those days, where you just wake up, and you can feel it in your bones that it's going to be one of those days? One of those days that live in infamy in your mind as both the best and worst? Well for me, October 2, 2015 was one of those days. I don't know if it was the stress of only having a week for the Era Project Magi assigned, or that we all started to reach that point of comfort with everyone, but as a collect program, we all had a mental break down that day, and it was all because of cubes.

Looking back at this week, it all feels like a strange, kerfuzzled dream, like when you're under anesthesia. (And yes, I did invent a word. I couldn't find a word I needed, so I made one. I'm like Shakespeare, only a 21st Century white girl.)

The squad also got awkward family photos done. 

L-R: (Top) Meghan [Art Fundies], Jessie [BA- 

Photography], Real John [Media Fundies]. (Middle) 

Random RA [???], Aaron [BA- Game Design], Dylan 

C [BA- Game Design], Josh, [Adertising & Marketing] 

Sean [Justin Trudeau; BA- Film & Television]. 

(Bottom) Dylan P [BA- Photography], Emily [Theatre 

Tech], Berkley [Visual & Creative Merchandising], 

Me, Mackenzie [Adervising & Marketing]. (Laps) 

Sarah [Makeup].

You know what? I'm taking that back. This ENTIRE week felt like that. Looking back I can't remember what happened anymore. So instead of boring you with a bunch of haphazard words, I'll just entertain you with some vignettes and pictures.

My roommate owns 2 Voss bottles. They are her babies, she drove all the way to Thornbury to get them. I'm allowed to borrow them (as my water bottle has been at Conor's for 2 months) on the condition that I have it the next time I walk into our suite.

Well. One day, I done goofed, and forgot it. PANICKING, I posted of the Facebook group asking if anyone had seen it. As it was, I just left it in the ballet studio so I grabbed it after class, and skipped on my merry way home to make dinner. A few days later I come home from class to the usual landslide of notifications, but oddly enough a bunch were from Jarryd (which never happens). Clicking on it I find this fantastical saga of Jarryd, Khalil and a stranger's water bottle:

Brittany, did you lose your roommate's 

water bottle again?

Khalil: No.

Well, then I just stole someone's water 

bottle.

After seeing their exchange, John posted this the next morning:

Okay, VOSS with all these bottle everywhere?

The whole thing was such a stupid exchange, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who thinks this, but I just thought it was funny.

My last journal...

Naffy, Staci, Peter and I went mini golfing on Monday.

It was very hodge-podgy, and there's too many mood flips. Congratulations Jarryd, you get a whole journal about you now! :) I'll post it in about a half hour, after I edit the Cubes entry.