Random Character Stuff

So, for those of you who have read or are familiar with my novels Back to Roots and Uprooted, I was thinking . . . After a day of listening to Broadway music, I started considering which solo my characters would sing, if they got to pick in age order and each had to choose a solo from a different musical.  The solo they sing would also have to be sung by a character they would’ve, at some point, played.  (In my head of course.)  
The only other rule I imagined laying down for them is that it must be a solo, with only choir backing.  No other major character can be singing with them. 

Okay, assuming you’re even still reading this–because I’m mostly writing it for my own personal pleasure–here’s the list.

Paul:  "Stars" from Les Miserables (character: Javert)
Anita:  "Memory" from Cats (character: Grizabella)
Joe:  "Close Every Door" from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (character:  Joseph)
Tara:  "A New Life" from Jekyll and Hyde (character:  Lucy)
Marie:  "Paciencia y Fe" from In the Heights (character:  Abuela Claudia)
Mike:  "Fortune Favors the Brave" from Aida (character:  Radames)
Eddie:  "Halloween" from Rent (character:  Mark)
Anna:  "No Good Deed" from Wicked (character:  Elphaba)

Thank you for indulging me in this lovely character exercise.  That is all. 

Throwing a Pity Party

I feel stupid right now.  I don’t know why the fact that he won’t be coming out to see me makes me upset enough to bite back tears over the phone.  He knew something was wrong; asked me repeatedly about it in fact, and I lied about it.  He sounded so worried about me, I couldn’t help but hide it from him.  I knew that if he thought it would truly make my  day that much better, my week that much better, to have him come out and see me, he would’ve done it.  And he was tired and done driving, and I didn’t want him to get in an accident trying to come out to see his stupid, whiny girlfriend. 

I don’t even know right now.  He’s had a long day, a long week, and I’m only making it worse asking him to come out to where I am for the last part of the evening.  And now he’s worried about me, and he knows there’s something wrong and that wasn’t what I intended at all.  Goddamn it.  He offered to talk via some kind of Internet Messenger tonight, but I have no plans to, so I lied about that too.  I just . . . can’t tonight.  If I do, he’ll be asking me if I’m all right, how am I doing, and I’ll have to lie more.  I’d rather tell one than many. 

But I hate this.  I hate this separation.  I hate knowing that I have two more weekends with him before school’s out for the summer, then one in which he’ll be in my home city for an event, before I don’t see him much at all until August when school starts back up.  I love him, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can.  And yet, I’m petrified of making it too clear, because if I could monopolize more of his time, I would, and I’m trying SO DAMN HARD not to do that, you have no idea.  
 
All right, pity party done.  Sorry guys.  Feel free to skip over this if you choose.  It probably won’t be as big a deal in the morning, but right now it hurts.   

Writer’s Block: First love

I don’t know about what age kids should start dating, but my parents had implemented the "you must be sixteen" rule, and that was how old I was.  It was a good, typical first date, dinner at a restaurant followed by a show at my high school, and the only thing I would’ve changed was the person I was with.  Much as I liked the person I went out with, I think I knew that even then I was not romantically inclined towards him, at least not in the way you should be when you’re going out with someone.  That date made me think for the longest time that it was okay to go out with someone you had very little attraction for, and until I met my current boyfriend, I thought that was the way dating would always be.  Boy was I wrong.   

Two Down . . .

Awful paper is awful.  But finished.  Yay!  And partially edited.  Also yay! 

Anyway, the reason for the title is that I have four essays due before the end of this year; three in English, one in Spanish.  The Spanish one is finished but not edited, the first English essay will be finished and turned in whenever I hear from my mother and get her comments on it.  That leaves me with one more honest to goodness essay, and one more essay in the form of a creative nonfiction piece.  That should be entertaining, as I am terrible about writing in a long winded fashion about myself, unless it is in the form of my private journals that no one except me reads.  

Plus, I have one final exam during my finals week, and then I get to go home way earlier than I would’ve expected.  *is excited*  

Such as it is, I am slowly working my way through the necessary pile of crap.  Turned in my last necessary homework assignment for another English class today, which means I may not be doing any of the others if I get lazy–likely–or too busy–also likely.  We’re coming to the end of editing pieces for two other English classes, which is a huge relief and a half.  And, my band concert is in a week and two days, which means we have five rehearsals left before that’s no longer a concern for me either.  Oh, and my parents are coming out to see me play, so that will be cool.

To round this out, I think I’ll include a brief to-do list, just to remind myself of the necessary tasks–some fun and others not–for this week.  Obviously, this is not ranked by importance.  Or is it . . .

1.  Watch Castle
2.  Watch Glee
3.  Update personal journal in regards to last weekend/this week
4.  Interview parents for creative nonfiction piece
5.  Start creative nonfiction piece
6.  Turn in first English essay
7.  Get other homework done and dealt with
8.  Relax

I think that’s about it.  Hope you’re all having a pleasant week.   

Inch by Agonizing Inch

I swear to God, this paper is going to be the death of me.  I’m not sure which I hate more; specific assignments, or the ones where you invent your own goddamn thesis and pray that your professor likes it. 

Either way, this assignment is the latter, and I’m about ready to start climbing the walls to get away from it.  My goal is to do a paragraph a day.  I just finished today’s, and I’m praying to God my parents don’t get this when it’s finished and go, "Um, honey.  We have no fucking clue what you’re talking about." 

Which, on the whole, wouldn’t surprise me.  In spite of all the information I’ve got, and the fact that I consider myself a halfway decent writer, I still feel like I’m pulling shit out of my ass. 

Wow.  I just realized there are a lot of curse words in this entry.  I’m not usually this terrible with the language, unless I’m really excited, really angry, or, as the case is here, really frustrated.  Expect an update when this mother—— is finally finished.  The way my schedule stands now, we’re looking at Sunday as the done date. 

Please God, I hope.

Saturdays

Saturdays are both the most wonderful and annoying day of the whole damn week.  Far more eventful than Friday too, I might add, as it means that I can hang out with my friends and see my boyfriend.  The issue here is that he works until 4:30 in the afternoon, and has a forty minute drive ahead of him to actually get to where I am. 

On the plus side, this forces me to be a productive human being, and do laundry, homework, etc. prior to his showing up.  I usually get up around ten thirty or so, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and clean up by twelve-ish.  Then I do my best to get things done and keep getting things done until his arrival.  Unfortunately, I have just filled my homework quota for the day, the thought of picking up another book makes me want to die, and I still have about ninety minutes at most until he arrives. 

People, this is when I start fussing on the same websites repeatedly, attempting to write, and waiting for phone calls.  When all else fails, I pace the floor and whine to my ever-patient roommate, who mocks me good-naturedly for my impatience.  

However, the funny thing about today is that she just remarked, "You know, I’m actually hoping your boyfriend gets here so we can go out and get food."  

That’s another Saturday night perk.  When he’s here we have an excuse to eat real food, instead of the sad lack of such that they serve in the dorms on the weekends.  

Anyway, I’m down to about seventy-five minutes to wait, and I’m expecting a phone call in about fifteen.  Hope everyone’s having an enjoyable weekend!