but the sun is still in the sky and shining above you

I found out this morning that I didn't get into UT. I felt totally deflated and called my mom crying at 7:30. It actually turned out to be a transcript problem, and they said I could appeal it, but they wouldn't guarantee anything, since it was pretty much my fault.

But on the bright side, St. Edwards University's deadline isn't until November 15th, so I'm applying there, which I meant to do anyway, and just never did. My therapist said they have a great psychology program, and he has several colleagues there and recommends it. And it's a much smaller school (only 4,000 as opposed to UT's 40,000), so I'd probably be a lot happier there anyway. It's always better to feel more like a person than a number. So I've already started my application (it's incredibly short and easy compared to UT's, also), called the University of Arkansas and Art Institute to have my transcripts sent over, and set up an appointment with an admissions counselor for next week. So hopefully everything will work out in the end, and maybe I'll be really happy at St. Ed's. It's a beautiful campus and seems to have a very active, liberal student life (even though it's a Catholic university), so I'm actually looking forward to it. Not the end of the world.

On a much lighter, and more arbitrary note, I feel like I'm in high school again: I have a pretend boyfriend. His name is David Fisher and he's a character on Six Feet Under. I'm totally obsessed, it's sick. Anyway, he's on my desktop at work, and I just sit and think about what our life would be like together. It's not the actor, Michael C. Hall, that I like, mind you. It's the character. He's so great. Is that so wrong?

when I was looking with calm affection, you were searching out my imperfections

I had one of the most fun weekends I've ever had this past weekend. I had a lot of anxiety leading up to it, for various reasons. The most obvious being my most "recent" breakup, which I am so not over. He and I were both very excited about this weekend, even all the way back in May, and had already picked out a room in the hotel we were going to get. And there's the whole, "mandy is my oldest friend, and now she's all grown up and married," blah blah blah.

I thought both of those issues were going to weigh heavily on my mind all weekend, but I was wrong. Obviously, they were both there (especially the former), but I was able to push them back and be so gloriously happy for Mandy and Victor. Getting there and seeing how radiant they both were, and how deliriously happy, it would have been impossible to wallow in any kind of self-pity, even if I'd wanted to. Ave Maria during the wedding itself hit a little bit, because that's "his" favorite song, and last Christmas, he played various versions of it repeatedly at his house. But these are the kinds of things you live with, and deal with, and get over, and attach new meaning to. During the wedding, I caught myself thinking how much I would love to have that special man there with me to share it all, that I could look up at from the altar and see him smiling at me in the crowd, when it dawned on me that I had, like, 10 special people to share that moment with. I will never forget, as long as I live, Mandy glancing over at me twice during the ceremony, and smiling the biggest, happiest, most genuine smile I've ever seen, and the way it melted my heart to see her so happy. And less importantly, but no less memorable, was the entire crowd at the reception, jumping up and down, pumping fists in the air, and singing along, everyone at the top of their lungs, to Since U Been Gone, by Kelly Clarkson. That's a dancefloor moment I will never forget. So much alcohol was consumed, so much dancing was done, and so many laughs and moments shared.

I've always been pretty ambivalent about weddings, especially my own, but if I could ever host the kind of day (entire weekend) that Mandy and Victor did, and make anyone else as happy as I was that day, I would love to. It's not just about sharing vows, or proclaiming your love in front of people, it's about everyone sharing the experience, and being a real part of your life. I was quite touched. Congratulations, you guys. I love you both.

Fool-hearted Memory

so, i started writing again tonight. It's a short story based on a short script i wrote a couple of months ago. it's totally about me and J., but the "event" in the story is completely fictionalized. it feels really good to be writing again, because I think it means that I'm finally able to start fictionalizing things between us in a really objective way that I haven't really been able to do until, well, maybe now. Even now, we'll see. But I'm happy with the way it's going so far. It's also been ages since I really tried to write actual fiction, as opposed to screenplays. Years, really. It's really hard, but I like the freedom it offers to go places that scripts just can't, partly because they have such a rigid format, and partly because you can't really bring thoughts, or feelings, to life in a script until it's filmed, and then it's the actor's job. But with fiction, you can just go wherever you want, and it's very liberating. And this particular story, in screenplay format, is a pretty terrifying prospect to film. It's very sexually explicit, and it's deeply, deeply personal, so much so that I might be betraying some intimiacies that I might someday regret betraying, but for the time being, it's working for me to exorcise them in this way, even if it is dredging up a lot of uncomfortable and painful feelings and memories.

So depending on how it all turns out, maybe I'll try to actually get it published someplace, though god only knows where. Anyway, I worked on it for about an hour and a half at Little City downtown tonight, and I've still got roughly half of it to go. I'll worry about the "publishing" aspect of it later; for right now, it's doing worlds of wonder for me to just get it out. i think. maybe i'm just rehashing a lot of stuff that just needs to die. Writing is funny that way. Well, all art, I guess, is funny that way. It's always a fine line for me between being really self-indulgent and wallowing in my own misery, and actually getting the demons out. But I guess you never really know until you do it.

And on a somewhat related note, the biggest problem with Little City is that you can't step outside to even smoke a cigarette without 18 homeless people walking up and asking you for one, or for money. the sans maison, J. used to call them. which always made me giggle. i hate homeless people.

inhale, deep breath

there was supposed to be a screening of my film Santa Ana today, as part of the gay & lesbian film festival. i had 7 friends show up at the theater, procured everyone's tickets and we went in to wait. the short film scheduled before mine played, then, tense with anticipation about my short starting, suddenly the opening credits of the feature film began. all my friends looked at me, confused, and i went outside to see what was going on.

well, the official line from the director of the festival, when i found her outside and ask what was up, was that the next feature screening didn't have a short with it, so they yanked mine out of its original program to put with that one. and no one had bothered to tell me. i was already fairly pissed about it, since i had people there, they had taken time out of their days to come see the movie, and driven all the way up to the Arbor, but there wasn't much i could do about it. so the feature it had been moved to was next, so collier and laura and i went to get lunch and come back. everybody else had stuff to do, so they all just had to leave.

so we arrive back at the theater. someone comes to find me to let me know that my short will be screening, but not until after the feature. what the fuck?!?? who shows shorts after the movie, when the credits have rolled and everybody's gone? i was spitting nails at this point, so i actually go and i find the projectionist who is lingering about in the lobby. i demand to know why they're doing this, and why they can't show it before. turns out the stupid fucker left the movie at home and actually has to go home and get it during the feature, so he can then show it afterwards. which also means that the line i got earlier about them just not having a short for that movie was a total lie to cover this douchebag's ass. needless to say, i kind of flipped out and told him how uncool that was and how angry i was, and he got very defensive and snotty in that way that people do when they know they've fucked up and don't want to take responsibility for it. he didn't even apologize, except to admit that he left it at home, which is as close to an apology as i got. so anyway, we went in circles for a bit, and i basically told him i didn't want anything from him except for him to do his job correctly, and we left.

i'm not done with this, though. i've called the director of the festival twice now and left her messages, and i'm going to pretty much demand that they show it again, in front of something big, that will draw a big crowd, and guarantee that lots of people will see my awesome movie. this happened 2 hours ago, and i'm still fairly fuming.

collier made me feel a lot better in the car driving home, though, by telling me that i was building up quite a karmic payback this summer, what with the breakup, all this stupid shit at work (which had a whole other layer added to it yesterday, which was very, very hurtful to me), and now this, and something really really great was bound to happen to me soon. i hope she's right, and it's not the other way around, where karma is now collecting its debt i owe to it. but how could that be? i haven't done anything that terrible. lately.

but on the plus side, collier and laura and i went to the opening night party last night, and it was really great for one reason. mum's the word, though, because i don't want to jinx it.