My Head and Heart are So Full

But I can't articulate what it is that I need or want.

I don't think there's anything worse than being ordinary.

Stuck

It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.

All I Want...

Is to study abroad in London this summer.  It works out perfectly with the show I want to do in June (the program is in July) but I have no moneys.  So...do I sell an organ, grow a money tree, or dive spectacularly into colossal debt?

On Directing

"When we seek to discover the best in others, we somehow bring out the best in ourselves."
-William Arthur Ward

Hodge Podge

I fell asleep watching this last night: http://www.earthcam.com/usa/newyork/timessquare/?cam=lennon_hd
It's been snowing the past day, and I find it incredibly beautiful and comforting!  I cannot wait to be there again (so soon!!)

Birdie has been a trying experience in a myriad of ways.  Though I love performing, tomorrow will bring much relief.

I'm still not feeling at all like myself.  It's tricky, too, because I'll have full days where I feel fine and glorious and other days when getting out of bed is analogous to climbing Everest.  I am determined to beat the funk and keep plowing forward with life simultaneously.  THIS is the challenge.  My patience for people is thin--and when you're in a community heavily based in false/political friendships, this is an issue.  I think Spring Break will be really good for me.  I still really want to surprise Laura and go to Memphis, then come home, then do NYC.  Traveling gluttony?

So we've established I'm a private individual.  (I mean, I have a blog, but I don't discuss intensely private matters--aside from the Grandmama thing--on here.)  I'm a best friend person.  I need my best friends.  Well, Bayla's in Arizona, Laura and Andrew are in Memphis, Lindsey and Steve are in NYC, and Kim and Kevin are in Philly.  I need some Dallas peeps.

In Dallas, it is the land of the mamas.  I have a plethora of theatre/arts mamas that save my sanity as well as a theatre sister--to whom I owe any semblance of happiness this week.  Anyway, I freaking love my friends.  They are all geniuses (no, really. it's ridiculous) and such lovely souls.  In times like this, you really learn who your support system is and just how lucky you are to have them.

Poohbear

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”

I have a handful of Piglets to my Pooh, and they are responsible for my general well-being right now.  I love them more than words can describe.

You Were Warned: Song Lyrics Post

Dear Billy Joel, thank you for writing "Vienna" with me in mind.

Slow down, you crazy child
you're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You'd better cool it off before you burn it out
You've got so much to do and
Only so many hours in a day

Too bad but it's the life you lead
you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong, you know
You can't always see when you're right.

You've got your passion, you've got your pride
but don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Paralysis

She's been in my dreams the last two nights. Both nights, there was some reason why she was there. Both nights, I had just misunderstood and she really was still alive. (I'm guessing this is the denial phase.) Yesterday, this caused insomnia. Today, it just caused me to not move. Woke up late. Can't move.

This is the weirdest experience. It is totally exhausting. And it hurts.

The Sucky-Year Formula

I'm going to see Next to Normal again I think.  It's been almost a year since I first saw it, and I really think I might find it bizarrely cathartic.  Moreso now than I did a year ago.

I kind of have a history of alternating good and sucky years.  Maybe it was time for a bad year.  I had a really fantastic 20 month streak there....

Dear 2010

Dear 2010,

Why do you loathe me?  I came to you with an open attitude and a really fantastic 2009.  2010 was supposed to be a magical year--it contains the second run of Sanders Family Christmas, great job offers, and my 21st birthday.  Why do you insist on hatin' on me and bringing me down?  You took away my favorite person who made everything better.  You dumped a colossal pile of grief on me and expected me to know how to deal with it.  I do not.  I cry at unexpected times, I don't know who to talk to, and I constantly feel physically exhuasted.  My best friends do not live in Dallas.  I'm spending large quantities of time on projects that are not helping me grow but I still have minimal faith in my talents.  I need things to change.  I have been patient and allowed you two months of absolute crap. That is one sixth of the time I have with you.  Man up, yo.  Improve.  Seriously, my sanity needs it.

Most sincerely,
Katharine

3D loser

My ambition exceeds my talent and I don't have the work ethic to make up the difference.

Some Days, You Just Feel Like a Screw-Up

For unknown reason, my phone decided to completely turn off last night (dead battery) and thus I had no alarm this morning.  I missed class.  My funk returned with vengeance, and I'm having supreme difficulties getting myself back on track. Womp womp.  Grief is lame. And I think it might be making me sick. Or a hypochondriac.  One of the two.

Some Quotes

The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca


We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.
David Sarnoff

What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.
Albert Pike   

Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm. - Winston Churchill
   

I Totally Lied

Today is a day where I would have loved nothing more than to stay home to cry and wallow.

Definitely a process.

ready for the spring

Today was the best I've felt in maybe two months. I'm not fully 'back' (I'm smart enough to know that this is going to be a process and one good day doesn't signify normalcy. At any rate, I'm grateful for the good day.

My theatre history professor is magical. I'm seriously enjoying that class. Acting has become progressively less daunting, and I get to write a paper on "The Philadelphia Story" in Text Analysis. Life is good.

I told a classmate today that Grandmama's funeral was yesterday and she was appalled I was in class. Although I will still be grieving for quite some time, I don't need to miss class to do it. Missing class to spend time with Grandmama? Legitimate. Missing class to cry and wallow? Not legitimate.

That said, I did just randomly (and discreetly) start crying in acting class. But it passed and I went on. Maybe I'm an unusual griever. Hm.

Anyway, that's my day. In the meantime, I'm looking for a violin. I'm serious about learning to fiddle for next years Sanders Family Christmas. Anyone got any leads?

Pen Pals

I'm a letter writer (and a journaler, obviously) and less than a month ago I proposed to Grandmama that we become penpals through email.  I was planning on a standing date on Friday afternoons, but I'm still finishing crew hours for now and knew it'd be a month or so before I could actually see her.  The solution? Pen pals.  We already emailed a good bit, but here was her response to my proposal:

That sounds like a good plan to me. I don't do anything interesting, but I

always want to know any big or little bitty detail in your life. So mine

will probably be a "hello" and you jot me a quick note about your events. I

usually check every day. My exciting news of today was a trip to the

dentist. I did get a good report so I guess that counts for something.



Oodles and oodles of love to you, also. You're so wonderful, and I'm crazy

about you.

Grandmama

I love her.  Off to get ready to celebrate her life with many, many wonderful people whose lives she has beautifully influenced.  Smiling for Uno.

Totally Random, but Made Me Laugh

It's funny how people view you.  When I was with Grandmama, she always reminded me of Julie Andrews.
Beautiful without effort, put together, very clean, extremely humble, endlessly compassionate, and rather regal.

I was just chatting with my cousin on my mother's side on Facebook, and she said Grandmama always reminded her of Piglet on Winnie the Pooh..."i think i told your dad once she always reminded me of piglet:) soft spoken, always the peace maker."  Also, a strangely appropriate description.  She definitely deserves a real life alter ego as well as an animated one. 

Made me smile, either way.  Cheers :)

Today, i feel as though it might be okay.

Grandmama's graveside was today. As she wished, there was a brief service at Restland followed by a family gathering at her house. Strangely, I not only found myself at peace, but in happiness at both. Grandmama greatly disliked people talking about her or complimenting her. Today, we all could do so freely. That was strangely exhilirating and glorious. So, though goodness knows she'd prefer the service not to mention her at all (seriously) we have acquiesced her in a sense; this has become more of a celebration than a mourning.

I have to take a second to discuss my extended family. Grandmama, as supreme matriarch of the family, distilled so much love in each member of the family that we all couldn't help being incredibly close. I truly think my family is an anomaly in current times. How many extended families live in the same country or state--letalone the same metroplex? Furthermore, we gather for every holiday, birthday, set of Olympics, and girls game nights. Haven't had enough yet? Never fear! Head over to the Durbins' fajita friday. Otherwise, random drop-ins are more than welcome. I can't believe how lucky I am to have a family like I have. (Did I mention that this is also true to an extent on my mother's side of the family? Yeah, crazy lucky.)

One of the huge perks of my decision to come back to Dallas for Richland/the theater tryout thing was proximity to family. And considering how little time I had left with Grandmama, I'm believing that conversation at White Rock coffee with Wendy Welch was fate in more ways than one. This is also the reason moving to New York (whenever that happens) will be such a challenge.

Anyway, I'm enjoying the copious amounts of family time (and knowledge of absolutely fascinating family stories) regardless of circumstance.

I'm sure I'll have a post-service post tomorrow. Until then, I hope your Valentine's Day was as full of love as mine was.

Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all

I suppose it is sadly appropriate that on the day of love we recognize the life of someone whose life revolved around it. Grandmama loved many things--mostly her family--and today I choose to try to acknowledge that alone. I will celebrate her life and be immensely grateful that I had her in mine rather than mourn the loss of her. Twenty years is a long time to spend with someone so beautiful and compassionate; her loving ways were bound to rub off on me.

So, here's to the day of love and those who daily celebrate it in the way they live.

[No Subject]

I keep repeating to myself "Grandmama's dead" and it surprises me every single time. At the mall shopping for funeral clothes. The mall is miserable. Valentine's Day+All Star Game (and celebs roaming around) makes for a ridiculously chaotic north park.

Dad says this is going to become a landmark in my personal history and establish the end of my childhood. Ie "oh, that was before Grandmama died..." "Well, Grandmama was still alive then..." I believe him. It's still such a huge concept, though, that I'm having a hard time digesting it.

I think that's really the problem with all of this--even though she was really sick for three weeks (and it was literally all I thought about) I am still in absolute shock and despair. My body/mind have never had to deal with feelings and events this huge before. It's kind of terrifying. I'm a control freak. I'm a perfectionist. I NEED to be in control.

I really just need Grandmama to still be here.

All this said, I'm extremely grateful for blogging. Seriously, though. Writing is part of my way of digesting. Yeah, I'm spilling my guts out on the internet and yeah, you get a really intimate view of how I'm coping with this, but it's really helping me. When my parents were going through the divorce and I didn't talk about it, I was in big trouble. Completely lost and without control. When I started writing and talking and getting it out, I was able to rationalize and compartmentalize the events. It wasn't some giant overwhelming nebulous cloud of confusion and hurt--it was a story and it made sense. And then it was okay.

Anyway, all this to say I'm grateful for the www, the blog, and you lovely readers/friends. It is all really quite helpful.

Bandaid

My favorite person died today and I am absolutely devastated.  Walking into Grandmama's house without her there was unbearable--everything has Grandmama in it...the furniture, the family photos blanketing walls and shelves, the piano from the Keoun piano shop, her choice in artwork, the way the table's dressed, the note on the phone that is years old that says "We love grammy!"  It was so bizarre to smell her in the house but have my dad just say "Goodnight dad."  And that was it.

I really can't believe it.  I think in my head there was the sick Grandmama and well Grandmama.  Sick Grandmama needed all our love, prayers, and attention.  She was the Grandmama we could endlessly compliment without some retort or "No, you're the beautiful one!"  Sick Grandmama died, but well Grandmama didn't come back.

If I magically get cast in my dream role in my dream show this summer at the theater she and my grandfather have taken me to every year for as long as I can't remember, she won't be standing quietly smiling behind the rest of the family as I come out the stage door, prouder than anyone else.  I won't get anymore random "I love you" phone calls.  If I feel like I'm an awful person, I can't have the reassurance that the best person in the world unconditionally adores me.

I remind myself of this reality, it is like ripping a bandaid off.  Everytime.  And that cliche-d thing you hear people saying--a nightmare you don't wake up from?  Also applicable here.  I half expected her to walk into the room from her bathroom or the den as I sat soaking it in in her bedroom.  Nope.

I'm certain I've scared the dickens out of my mother.  Tonight was the first time in a really long time she has seen me cry; I could probably count the number of times I've been upset in front of her on one hand.  For a theater major, I am one of the least vulnerable and heart-on-your-sleeve people you will meet.  I never get emotional in front of others.  I hate it.

This reality is going to take a long time to sink in.  I have no idea when it will be okay--when I won't just ache.  I am certainly not okay now.  This is not okay.

Grandmama was absolutely supposed to be invincible.  I knew she thought she'd at least make it through the summer a few weeks ago...Grandmama was always first to hear of my mischievous travel plans, and I'd tentatively planned to live in NYC for three weeks in July.  When I told her this, her face dropped and she expressed how upset she was over this news.  I know she knew she didn't have a terribly long time, but I really didn't think she anticipated the brevity of the remainder of her life at that point.  She wanted me to stay in Dallas in July.  And the second I saw that face drop, I'd immediately changed my mind and resolved not to go.   Now, who knows what I'll do?

I am in dire need of some re-assessment time.  Who do I want to be friends with?  What are my priorities?  How do I avoid depression while not halting my life and obligations/responsibilities?  What do I want to focus on (theater? acting? family? writing? music? dance)?

Now is a good time to rebuild and I would like to do so healthily.  I can strive to be more Katharine-esque (in the first Katharine sort of way) but I need to stay myself.  Part of why she loved me is because I am so different.  I need to remember that.

The most important thing I can do is talk about her to the kids--Kalli, Daniel, Jake, and Heidi--and keep her legacy alive.  Everyone should be lucky enough to spend two decades with the best person on earth.

I love you Grandmama and I miss you more than anything.  I am sure you will be a stellar social chairman of heaven.  I am also certain you were meant to be my guardian angel and that you will do a flawless job at that.  Praying to you tonight.

When the Saints Go Marching In...

Grandmama passed away this evening. I'm heartbroken, but happy she's in peace where she belongs.

Love you, beautiful Grandmama.

Thanks to all who provided patience, understanding, prayers, and support. I've not been myself lately and it might be a while until I'm fully back. That said, I'm making a real effort to do so.

Goodnight all--
Katharine Dos

Clarification

I do not dislike Meadows.  I am glad I am going to SMU.  I love my classes and I love my friends.  However, I have had a rough start to the semester (for reasons largely unrelated to the world of academia), I experienced my second SMU campus hit-and-run in a year, and was frustrated with the lighting/DRS conflict.  This means that I've had a rough couple of weeks and a couple of frustrations with the school.  This does not make me dislike the school.  (If you want some SMU-lovin, note the first group I thanked on my 2009 Christmas list here, my mini smu gratitude in TJ.com here, and an SMU-lovin rant here.  Do the research before pointing fingers, mi amigos.)  I don't intend to insult the school or its students, because I like and enjoy both.  I just had an unfortunate couple of weeks is all.

Now, if anyone has any further questions, I would be more than happy to address them individually and in person.  Otherwise, have a lovely day, my friends!

Mansfield College as my Plumfield

We've already established that I have this delusional fantasy that I am--in some way--Josephine March.  Anyone who knows the plot of Little Women knows the basic outline: father's off at war, mother at home, three sisters.  Jo yearns for adventure and to travela and write great books. She's proposed to by her best friend, falls in love with a German professor in New York, and loses her sister.  Her Aunt March is the wealthy spinster living in Plumfield.  Aunt March leaves the estate to Jo; it's enormous, and would make the perfect school.  That has always sounded glorious to me.  I am enamored of old buildings (I broke down crying at an empty church in Nice that had built in the 1300s simply because I was so moved by its age and history) and I love learning about what has happened in them.  (I had a quasi-creepy obsession with Parkland Hospital before its renovation, and I am so envious of Ronnie Claire's house--which was a 1903 church--that I can't explain it to you.)  Anyway, I've obviously been spending a great deal of time at Grandmama's lately.  In a way I can't really explain, it's been fun.  (I feel a tangent coming on, so prepare yourselves.) 

Maybe you've discerned this by now, but we have an exceptionally close family.  As my mother and I were discussing tonight, losing Grandmama is really like losing a parent.  It's not just the fact that she's Grandmama and she's magical and easily the best human being I've known--it's that she helped raise me and my sister, and that I've spent more time with her than some immediate family.  Abby and I have spent an inordinate amount of time with her and almost viewed her as a second magical mother--one who only had the fun tasks and none of the disciplining.  It's a hard thing to part from.  My mother provided the discipline; Grandmama provided the conscience.

At any rate, just as Grandmama no doubt planned, this unfortunate event has spawned incessant family time.  And in a weird way, it's like some awful holiday that brought us all together.  There's constantly company, family, and food.  And she's just daintily slumbering in her room as the festivities continue.  And you almost think that nothing's wrong as everyone's sharing stories and reminscing, watching movies, and eating.  (Lots of eating.  Seriously.  As a poor/constantly ravenously hungry college student, I'm not complaining.)

The only time we all start losing is talking about a particularly touching memory--or even moreso--when company comes by and mentions an inevitably glorious memory of Grandmama and what she's meant to them.  It's incredibly touching.  People who have had minimal contact with her have had stories to share. It's a remarkable testament to how many people she's touched and the legacy she has left.

At any rate, in the midst of my afternoon of family-time, Kara, Ab, and I were snuggled up on the couch (well, let's be honest...I don't snuggle. Just comfy? Whatever.) chatting away about old memories and somehow I started inquiring about Grandmama and her mother--their difference.  This led to discussions of Aunt Margaret (Granny--Grandmama's mother's) sister.  Abby is convinced that I am Aunt Margaret--who never married and became a teacher, had a stroke and then remained in a vegetative state for nearly 15 years.  I sincerely hope this is not my fate, though I have no doubt she was a lovely lady.

Anyway, we started talking about the Calhouns and Gladwater and Mansfield and I was reminded of REALLY early memories from Mansfield.  I have a remarkably cool family.  The Keouns had a piano shop (I seriously need to research/ask for more stories about this) and Reimer and Hope Calhoun owned/lived in Mansfield College.  I have some relatively faint memories there and I have always been fascinated by it's history.  Kara reminded me that it had been a College (and there were classrooms upstairs) and was a hospital during the Civil War (seriously. coolest. thing. ever.) and then went back to being a college and then became Hope and Reimer's house.  Reimer was also a Louisiana Senator.  (Yeah, definitely didn't know that information as a child.)

Here's the blurb I found on the Mansfield website about it:

Mansfield Female College oldest women's college west of the Mississippi River. Mansfield Female College was founded by the Methodists here in the 1800's. Mansfield Female College operated for 80 years, but it closed in 1930, merging with Centenary College in Shreveport. The first graduating class was in 1856 under the direction of Dr. Henry Coleman Thweatt. Behind the College, still standing in tact, is the Lyceum. This was the gym and dining area downstairs and upstairs was the Auditorium with a stage. Reimer Calhoun Sr. bought the building in 1940. The two top floors were removed from the College when he purchased it as he made it into his family residence. This museum was added to the Secretary of State's Museums Program during the 2003 legislative session.

And you know the film The Great Debaters  with Denzel Washington from 2007? Filmed there.  How crazy is that? 

Anyways this absolutely completed my fantasy of having an Aunt with this fantastic old house from the Civil War (seriously!) with all this history.  I desperately want to make a pilgrimage down to see it--although it's sadly not owned by Hope anymore.  Can't blame her though--awfully huge undertaking for an older woman.  Still, pretty incredible.  Makes me want to write a story...Historical fiction based on family history, perhaps?....Hmmmm...I like it!

A Moment of Materialism: iPad? eeePC?

Turns out more people read this thing than I thought!  Thanks for the texts/comments/emails (and even an office meeting) letting me know you read.  I really do appreciate it.

Do any of you kids keep blogs? Let me know and I'll post a link on the side.

In the meantime, I'm contemplating purchasing either an iPad (WHY that name? I still don't understand.) or eeePC.  Any opinions?

Spring Cleaning and Such

Eventful weekend.

Grandmama's still sleeping.  Hasn't responded since Wednesday night (Thursday morning?) Regardless, pretty sure she's said her last.

Still hurts recognizing that.

Determined tonight that I think I am in shock.  Or maybe I'm just going through a phase of it.  Not aching all over anymore, but just desiring to be at the house ALL the time.  I cannot express the comfort of being in the house with her.  Maybe I'm still hanging on.  Or maybe I think it somehow offers her comfort or happiness.  Or maybe I just want to grab every ounce of Grandmama magic before she's completely gone.  Regardless, I have absolutely no desire to go to school tomorrow.

And on that note, SMU rant...for those that want to skip, I'll give you some brackets where the SMUangst stops...

[begin SMU rant]
I auditioned for SMU theater and decided to go there because I thought it was where my theatrical education would be best rounded out.  I did not need to get a theater degree.  I could have a degree in something else.  I chose to get a theater degree because I thought it would be enjoyable and profitable.  With that in mind, I thought SMU would provide that and have my best interest in mind.  I am now questioning whether or not that is actually the case.

I auditioned for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels last week (last week? two weeks ago? Lawsy, I've lost track of time entirely...).  If you know me at all, you KNOW that I was dying to be in this show.  Kalita Humphries, Uptown Players, Cheryl Denson, great show, great dancing.  Basically, it's guaranteed magic.  Auditioned. It went well.  Callback? Not so much.  Callback was the night I really found out about Grandmama.  No bueno.  I checked out, and stopped caring halfway through the dance call. (WHAT?! You know that's not like me..especially for people I respect and a show I really want.)  Regardless, it apparently worked out okay because I got cast. NO FREAKING WAY, right? Excitement abounds.  Glorious excitement.

It conflicts with my lighting crew assignment. Stellar.  Didn't think this was going to be an issue.  So long story short, I attempt to negotiate with the run crew person ("can I switch with another student? could I get an incomplete and do it later? could I drop the course and take it next semester?). No, no, and no.  Yes, we will work around student projects that are tentative and taking place in our basement.  No, despite the fact that we did not cast or even call you back for a single thing in our department, you may not do a professional show.  Why? Because not enough people signed up for this course and we need you to run the lighting board?

Oh? Well gosh darn.  I am SO sorry to be inconveniencing you.  I'm sorry for thinking we were paying an inordinate sum of money for me to experience theater--which preferably involves actually doing it.  I'm sorry that even though I signed up for lighting LAST semester and you kicked me out because you had TOO MANY students, that I am now inconveniencing you because this semester you have too few.  I'm sorry that my professional gig in an amazing space doesn't qualify as real theater because it is a) in Dallas and b) a musical.  OH WAIT.  Kitchen Dog and Dallas Theater Center are the only theaters in Dallas, aren't they.  Excuse me.  I'm so sorry.

[PS: the you to which I refer is a general thing--anger is definitely not directed towards one individual]

I'm going to class and I'm happily doing the work.  (This said, I am in some GREAT classes.  My theater history professor is an epic genius and I am loving that class this semester, and last semesters profs continue to be fantastic)  I'm dropping lighting, because guess what?  I'm getting this degree for me.  That's what my money and time are going towards.  It's not narcissistic.  It's practical.  C'est tout.

[end SMU rant]

Spent the day in Garland with the family.  It was glorious.  Accidentally slept through Bedside Baptist (the half-joking name my mother gave to the church services we've been having in Grandmama's bedroom complete with guitars and pianos and singing.) It might have done me particular good this week--I probably need to confess all my ill feelings towards SMU right now.  Hymns, for some reason, are really particularly difficult for me to sing around her.  It's likely because music is the most spiritual experience I can fathom and also the most personal.

Saw Mame last night at Hockaday.  Lovely to see the baby Hockadaisies makin' me proud.  In the meantime, I'm making an effort to really get back on track this week.  Eat healthily, exercise, map out Ursula, map out Lefty scene thoroughly, get normal sleeping hours, attend all classes happily, and be kind (in general.)  All good goals.   All doable.

Here we go.

PS: Does anyone actually read this thing ever?  I occasionally get randos saying "Oh, I was reading your blog the other day and..." Show me some love!  I do really write this to get stuff outta my system, but I'd love to know if anyone really looks at this thing, so share a comment if you please!

I'm Having a Good Day

It's pretty awesome.

Watched District 9 last night.  Cool film, but I'm not in love with it.  Very Avatar-y.  Aliens, we come in and screw them over.  We get it.  It's an analogy.  I want out of the war too.  I just don't want to watch dozens of beat-you-over-the-head analagous movies about it.

Watching Hurt Locker now. Really hard to watch.  But it's soooo well done.

Rehearsal tonight, then probably going to Alexandres.  Good times.  Spending in time in G-town tomorrow.  Then seeing Mame at Hockaday. I am PUMPED!

Yep, life's okay for now.

Beth and Jo

Simple, sincere people seldom speak much of their piety. It shows itself in acts rather than in words, and has more influence than homilies or protestations.  Like a confiding child, she asked no questions, but left everything to God and nature, Father and Mother of us all, feeling sure that they, and they only, could teach and strengthen heart and spirit for this life and the life to come. She did not rebuke Jo with saintly speeches, only loved her better for her passionate affection, and clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which He draws us closer to Himself. She could not say, "I'm glad to go," for life was very sweet for her. She could only sob out, "I try to be willing," while she held fast to Jo, as the first bitter wave of this great sorrow broke over them together.

Beth lay a minute thinking, and then said in her quiet way..."I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven." Jo leaned down to kiss the tranquil face, and with that silent kiss, she dedicated herself soul and body to Beth.

Here, cherished like a household saint in its shrine, sat Beth, tranquil and busy as ever, for nothing could change the sweet, unselfish nature, and even while preparing to leave life, she tried to make it happier for those who should remain behind. Beth had wanted any reward, she found it in the bright little faces always turned up to her window, with nods and smiles, and the droll little letters which came to her, full of blots and gratitude. Jo never left her for an hour since Beth had said "I feel stronger when you are here." Precious and helpful hours to Jo, for now her heart received the teaching that it needed. Lessons in patience were so sweetly taught her that she could not fail to learn them, charity for all, the lovely spirit that can forgive and truly forget unkindness, the loyalty to duty that makes the hardest easy, and the sincere faith that fears nothing, but trusts undoubtingly.

So the spring days came and went , the sky grew clearer, the earth greener, the flowers were up fairly early, and the birds came back in time to say goodbye to Beth, who, like a tired but trustful child, clung to the hands that had led her all her life, as Father and Mother guided her tenderly through the Valley of the Shadow, and gave her up to God.

When morning came, for the first time in many months the fire was out, Jo's place was empty, and the room was very still. But a bird sang blithely on a budding bough, close by, the snowdrops blossomed freshly at the window, and the spring sunshine streamed in like a benediction over the placid face upon the pillow, a face so full of painless peace that those who loved it best smiled through their tears, and thanked God that Beth was well at last.

And fit us for Heaven to live with Thee there...

People often have a tendency to idolize loved ones who passed on--build them up as martyrs. Grandmama doesn't need building up. It was always apparent to me growing up that she really was a saint.

The thing that's getting me tonight is greed. Grandmama wrote a little note to Heidi, my beloved baby niece (who I love to pieces.) It is a tragedy that Heidi won't remember Grandmama. Jake and Kalli's memories will be faint and few. People always told me that about Granny--Grandmama's mother. I wish I'd known her. I am so grateful I had as much Grandmama time as I had. First born. Twenty years. Sheer luck.  You know, I still want more.  The really exceptional people in this world should become immortal to keep all us sinners and naughty folk in line, happy, and safe.  Guardians of what is right in the world.

She's still fighting hard. Breathing hard and sleeping all the time. From what I understand, she responded to very little throughout the day--if anything.  The two words (I'm probably too proud about this) we got were "Love you" prompted by my and Abby's saying farewells for the evening.  I got six smiles total tonight.  Couple big ones--prompted by kisses, leg rubs, and "I love you's."  No joke--I'm not sure I'm prouder of anything in my life. These smiles are representative of two successes: 1. Grandmama loves me and 2. I made her happy.
I have peace knowing both these things. I know it sounds morbid, but I really have prepared for this my whole life. I am a deeply, deeply compassionate person, but I do not wear my heart on my sleeve. Maybe it's my cynical and self defensive nature, but as soon as I know I passionately care for something, I prepare myself to leave it.

Grandparents usually die first. I lost my first grandparent--Grandaddy--when I was seven and I knew then that immortality was a lie.  I've soaked up every ounce of Grandmama time I could.  If I randomly felt like telling her just how much I loved her, I did.  If I wanted to play cards ona Friday night, I'd call her.  Abby and I had an advantage the other kids didn't: we lived five minutes away.  Some summer days, I'd walk over. I feel like that's a pretty rare occurrence in this day and age.

She still is Grandmama--looking beautiful, resting, making an extra effort to smile for the grandkids.

I'm not sure it's hit me that this illness is not a spell. Her fading and departure are permanent. She's not going to see another show. No more Grandmama at Christmas.  No more shopping for a birthday present.  No more watching old movie musicals at her house. No more hand and foot.  No more eyerolling at her husband.  No more perfect little chuckles.  No more prayers before bed.  No more awards at church.  No more seeing Grandmama at Friendship House.  No more magical mashed potatoes.  No more cards from her.  No more hugs.  No more kisses.  No more voicemails.  No more "I love my boo." or "I love dos."  I will miss her everday probably as long as I live.

Maybe it's the shock, but it still just doesn't seem permanent right now.  She is going where she belongs.  And she's really handled it all incredibly beautifully, intelligently, and gracefully.

I really do believe that souls are separate entities from the body, at least at a certain point.  I really do believe in heaven; I have to.  Even if I'm not sure where I'm going after I die, I'm glad she is certain she is--and happy to go there.

Grieving's a process.  I'm sure things will constantly remind me of her for quite some time.  Lots of tears.  But I'm so happy that her soul will be released from an aching body and that she will be fully restored and watching over me soon.  I figure she'll take very, very good care of me.  And if God does exist, I imagine she will be on his highest council.  Vice President of Heaven--I like it.  I'd campaign for that.

I've got the ring she gave me on my 16th birthday on my right hand.  I love it, and play with it in happiness and sadness.

Right now, the name of the game is to keep going.  Wake up.  Get out of bed.  Go to school. Get what you need to done.  You can do this.  Or at least you can try.

So for now, I'm trying.  Trying for you, Uno.

Va-cays

I'm single, I'm stupid, and I'm going to travel.

Spring Break (tentative): Memphis roadtrip first weekend. Then NYC for a few days.


I'm going to London in the next year. I basically need to go either the last week in May, July, or August (but I figure it will be hot AND touristy AND expensive at that time.) Stellar.

Where in the world is...

Katharine Gentsch?
So, here's what it comes down to:
Cancun, Washington DC, San Fransisco, Bahamas, Maine
 
Thoughts?

Oscar 2010 Wish List

This probably won't happen, but here's what I want.

Best Picture: Up or Up in the Air.  However, I'd be content with Precious, An Education or A Single Man
Best Perf By An Actor in a Leading Role: Colin Firth--A Single Man
Best Perf By An Actress in a Leading Role: Sandra Bullock-The Blind Side
Best Perf By An Actress in a Supporting Role: Anna Kendrick-Up in the Air. But I'd be fine with Vera.
Best Achievement in Directing: Jason Reitman-Up in the Air
Best Writing for Screen: Up. Second Choice: A Serious Man.
Best Writing based on previously Produced Material: Up in the Air. Second: Precious.
Cinematography: Avatar.
Editing: Avatar
Art Direction:  Toughie. Sherlock Holmes is the underdog, but I'll say it. Then Avatar, then Imaginarium.
Costumes: Young Victoria
Makeup: Young Victoria
Original Score: Up. UP. UP.  IF IT IS NOT UP I WILL HURT SOMEONE!!! Michael Giacchino, I love you. Even if this score is oddly reminiscent of your work for Ratatouille. Which is even more brilliant.
Original Song: Crazy Heart--The Weary Kind
Animated: Coraline followed by Up. Okay, maybe tied.  Coraline won't win, though.

Shazaam.

Love

An email from my mom this morning:
I told G’mama that Dos loved her last night, and she responded, “Back at  her.”  I don’t think she has responded to much since then.  Susan said that earlier in the day she asked if you had been there.  I think she must  have been dreaming about you.

That makes me happy.

2010

In an effort to de-funk-ify and be productive (this is me taking a break from homework, right now...) Here's my game plan (ideally.)

February: Bye Bye Birdie--Richland College
March: 5-7th Memphis for Laura's recital. 9-13th NYC. Shows: (Time Stands Still, Miracle Worker, Looped, Come Fly Away, Addams Family, Lend Me a Tenor)
April-May: Dirty Rotten? (I'm holding out hope until it's gone.) Complete year 1 of SMU.
June: Work at Dallas Childrens for four weeks, Bye Bye Birdie at Lyric
July: a) Joseph at Casa b) Study Abroad through SMU grant c) Montreal d) Live in NYC
August: Montreal, Start back at SMU
September: ??
October: Puppet Project at T3 with Bruce
November: ??
December: Sanders Family Christmas at the Bath House

Yep.  That's my year.  Sounds good.

Day to Day

Yesterday, I felt like there was so much going on in my head that I was going to explode.

Today, I feel nothing.

I remember--after Brendan died--wondering when there would be a day when he wasn't the first thing I thought about, when I could drive by HPUMC and not think about his funeral, when I could see his sister in Chinese class and not see him.  This is going to be worse.

I can't find a desire to accomplish anything.  That, in and of itself, is scary to me.  I thrive on goals and success.  I woke up this morning and just sat.  And didn't think about anything.  And hurt.

My normal escapes (spending time with friends, watching favorite 90s films) are only sort of working.  Don't get me wrong, I am SO grateful for my friends and all they've done for me.  Truett is seriously a godsend.  Bayla, Kim, and Laura have all regularly called to check in on the situation, and people I barely even know have given me messages and cards.  Loss is a really human thing.  People get it.

That said, it's still something somewhat new to me, and I am not handling it well. My desire last week to live life normally and accomplish as much as possible is gone.  Now I just want to sleep.

Sorry for the super duper angsty post.  Hopefully normal Katharine will return shortly. Any advice on how to make that happen is greatly appreciated.

BTW--grandmama woke up after that last post (surprise!) she sleeps mostly now, but occasionally wakes up and smiles. Love that woman.