WOOHOO

Having got my first college acceptance, I am marginally more confident that I shall not perish in a box in the gutters of the world. At least, not before I get a college education.

Cool.

Oh, childhood.

Oh man. Gargoyles.
Way better than Street Sharks, Eli. I don't care if they're sharks with pants.
I mean, you guys decide.



or


Clearly the first, no?

Angry Letter, Happy Letter

This post is flying at you through the tubes in two parts. Well. Three. Ish.

Part the First:
Dear Anna Klejnowski,
I've just received your SUPER DUPER CLASSY letter and would like to thank you for your kindness in recognizing me as a "possible candidate" for your Miss Teen San Francisco pageant. Much appreciated, to be sure. I do sincerely regret to inform you that I will not be dropping by for you to judge me on "personality, casual wear and formal wear modeling," as I have just discovered that your most cordial invitation is a big fat scam.* So I will not be bringing myself, my family or "any additional interested young ladies" to any hotel room within a five mile radius of you and your minions. It interests me that you happen to be the "local coordinator" for pageants in San Fransisco, Las Vegas, Akron, South Jersey, Seattle and Chicago. Especially since you mailed your letter from Hermitage, Pennsylvania.

In conclusion, you are an evil wench who sucks the souls of the young and hopeful, and I am not in the slightest bit interested in paying you in order to "accomplish [my goals] on stage." Scamming young girls and their families is stupid. Maybe you should try robbing banks or something.

Best Wishes and many thanks for the great laughs,
Rae

PS: The pink sparkly tiara watermark on your stationary is not so very classy. Thought you might want to know.

Part the Second:
Dear Paolo DiFabio,
You pretty much rocked my socks when I auditioned for BU this past weekend. You articulated perfectly how I feel about theatre, and it was almost as though you were describing me to myself. The whole thing about success--that it isn't about a seven-figure income, but about living where you please and doing what you love--is so fundamentally true for me that hearing it worded so well from another person was pretty much magical.

One thing you said that really resonated was: "As an actor, you are your only constant. It's great to be supported by loved ones, but in the end, you have to support yourself."** This stuck with me because a) it's true and b) I hadn't really thought of it in that way before. Acting as a profession is gonna be hard and full of rejection and I'll likely be scraping change from the sidewalk a lot of the time. But it'll be okay, as long as I remember to be constant for myself, and not rely on the praise or criticism of others.

Also, before I auditioned with you, BU wasn't at the top of my list. It is now.

I really, really hope that I get to work with you in the future.

Sincerely,
Rae

So yeah. It's so interesting... People, I mean. On the one hand, you've got those who prey on the wishes and wallets of the innocent. And then on the other you have those wonderful strangers who understand that what you want isn't a "back-up plan" that'll leave you rolling in the dough when you "fail" at your dreams, but to do what you love for as long as you can.
Interesting.

Contemplating things that may or may not be pointless to contemplate, laughing at "Pageantry with Purpose"*** to, you know, scam people... and as always most humbly and other-things-ly yours,

*Not that I would want to participate in the first place. Though it would be quite singularly and especially hilarious.
**That's not verbatim, guys. Sorry.
***Seriously.

Something's Wrong

I don't understand.
The mob screams BUYBUYBUY and of course, we do. We heed that call.
They chanted "push the doors in" and trampled a man to death. To death.
But I can't really feel okay saying "they". It places the blame on the one group, rather than all of us. And it is all of us.
That one Long Island Wal-Mart was not the only place where violence broke out. All across the the country, people were--are--willing to hurt others for something so trivial as a holiday sale.
It could have happened anywhere.
Which is frightening and sickening and wrong.
And then it's sensationalized: "Check out pictures of the chaotic scene," the photo gallery blurb reads. Like it's something we should ogle. Or check out.
What I want to know is: Why?
Whywhywhy.

I can't really express all this. I feel tangled.

Forget Twighlight.

Watch this movie instead. Because it's awesome.

Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Oh man, guys. I forgot. I truly forgot how much I love the Harry Potter series.
I guess I'd become jaded about it. Prolly around the fifth book.
But last night,when I was supposed to be sleeping, I picked up The Sorcerer's Stone. And read half of it before I decided that maybe it was time to turn the light out. Since it was the first time in years that I'd read it, it was like experiencing the adventure all over again. I had to suppress laughter when Hagrid gave Dudley a tail. By the time Harry got to Ollivander's, I was grinning like an idiot. And I really wanted to punch Malfoy for harassing Ron on the train to Hogwarts.
I've gotta give it to Rowling. She did create a great world, and a great adventure (even if she annihilated it all in the epilogue of the seventh).



Once more a believer, and yours...

Don't you just love it when your life explodes?

I'm not going to get into college. You want to know why?
Because I spelled "theoretical" wrong on a certain document.
Which I photocopied.
And handed to a certain fiery cat.
You want to know what this document is?
IT'S MY FREAKIN' SECONDARY SCHOOL REPORT!!!
THAT'S GOING TO BE SENT TO EVERY PRIVATE SCHOOL I'M APPLYING TO!!!
They're going to think I'm stupid and none of them will let me in and my life will be one great big stinking hole of misery and despair.
All because I didn't check my darn spelling.
RAWRGhlkdfnvfk,zgnos;izdflvkmlkndsfvmnsdzlkf