Bits and Pieces Update

Well, today was my one day off for the week, so Erin and I spent the day getting promo shots taken. Here's some of Bronwyn:

Believe it or not, this is a park building

Bloomfield Memorial Park
 
I love this lake

And of Joan:

Joan and her leather jacket

Yes, the pants are tight and hot. And they look tight and hot.

At a local park

Believe it or not, we drove (or rather I did) to these locations and shot these. The one of Joan in the cemetery is an actual cemetery (Ashley is buried there) and the park is right down the road from Erin's house. And yes, Erin is the one taking on the role of Bronwyn. Her wardrobe is mainly my clothes that we were able to throw together to create Bronwyn's look. We wanted her to be more obviously feminine than Joan, and I believe it works rather well. Joan's wardrobe is made up of my own clothing.

Needless to say, my wardrobe for Joan caused me to recieve a lot of strange looks from the people we ran across. Stephen Tichenor (whom I refer to by surname mainly) has said that he'll more than likely take on the role of Scott, which made me want to kiss him, regardless of the fact that it's in the script anyway. Of course, I'd kiss Tichenor anyway (he's very attractive for a blonde, and has a great sense of humour).

Things are slowly coming together. I'll keep you updated.

And, this has nothing to do with B&P, but I'm going to see The Band Perry in concert on 18th July. Can't wait!

As if my life needed to be worse

Someone broke into my car Saturday night. Although, since Samantha's dumbass left the passenger door unlocked, I guess you can't  really call it breaking in. The point is, my CD's are gone. As well as my iPod. Now, the iPod...I don't really care about. I didn't use it that much anyway. But my CD's.....there were over 500....gone. They could have taken anything in the car, but instead they chose the one thing that gives my life meaning. My music.

Samantha said she would replace the iPod, but as I said, I don't give a fuck about the iPod. I just want my fucking CD's replaced. How damn hard is it to lock the fucking door?? I've never gotten out of a car and left the door unlocked unless it was in my garage. Those CD's meant everything to me. Everything. They didn't mean anything to anyone but me. As of July 19th, I'm done. I give up. I can't take it anymore.

Relentless

I will stumble. I will fall down, but I will not be moved. Today, I'm buying more diet pills, and if I eat anything at all big, it will be a pretzel at work. I won't fail today. I can't. If that were to happen, I don't know what I'd do.

In other news, Bits and Pieces has been cast with one exception. I'm still waiting for an answer from Stephen Tichenor, the guy I want for Scott, but hopefully I'll hear something positive soon. I've gotten all the other characters cast, and will be finishing up the promo shots soon. I already have some of Joan, so all that's left is a few of Joan and her famous leather jacket, and Bronwyn/Scott. Can't wait! Will keep you posted. Here's one of the promo shots of Joan:

Inner torments

Every morning, I wake up and wonder if I should waste my time getting up and going to work. I've taken up drumming again, but it's a bit more difficult since I no longer have my drums. I've been banging on everything in the house though to compensate. Of course, my drums sold for $300 and went to pay for groceries and the house payment, but I still wish it hadn't had to be done.

The benefit performance didn't happen this past weekend as planned due to malfunctioning equipment, so that was devastating. The dream I had last night was horrifying and I woke screaming, much to the terror of my poor little puppies, but I don't know what to make of it. See what you make of it:

My fingers were sprawled against the keys of the piano, placed against the ivory with ease. I didn't know what I was to play, but I tried to oblige my thoughts to come out of hiding, at least for the sake of attempting. As I pressed down on the keys, I heard no sound spilling out from beneath them. Surely I knew how to play the piano, did I not? I knew I did. But I heard nothing. I shook my head, fueling a whirlwind of torrents that weren't musical and weren't comforting. I felt my fingers grasp a pen, pressing the tip generously against the paper. Yet, the tip was never moving, and my fingers grew numb, just like the thoughts and their activity in my head. My head began to pulse, and throb, and with that, my fingers crashed against the keys and I scribbled aimlessly against the piece, drawing internal organs and hate mixed with solace and happiness and beauty.

I could only think of nothing; only soundless nothingness. Lights seared through the whirlwind, with tires spinning, and smoke rising against hot concrete. Heat spewed within and fingers clutched the air, trying to grasp nothing if it was possible by any means. Did pain not make any sound now? Surely it had before. Surely before I could give it a soundtrack and now the inspiration had run dry, and I was running dry from the inside out because all I could feel was pain, and everything was with no sound. I tried to scream in the muted world, if only I could hear myself. My fingers slid against the keys as I descended to the floor, laying myself down in oblivion…

Even if you don't reply

Well, as some of you may have noticed (or not noticed as the case may be), I haven't been online as much. This is mainly due to my own feelings of worthlessness and not belonging here. It seems to be that even when fasting and restricting, I'm not losing any weight, and in some instances have even gained. I'm hoping that by returning, I will gain the support I've been needing. I am not asking for tips on how to break the plateau, and I'm not asking for anyone to tell me that I need to stop what I'm doing. I just need to talk to people who understand this feeling and will be able to respond without judgement. Even if you don't reply, thanks for reading this.

Burning bridges

I'm working on letting go. I'm trying to move on. I'll still listen to the CD of songs that are for him, but in the end, they don't have to relate to him. They're just songs. I will move on, and I will find someone else. I'll find love again, and it doesn't have to be soon. Even if I don't find someone, even if I'm not meant to love again, if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free. He won't hold me down, and someday he will find that he made a mistake.

Light the past up in flames.

Moving on.....or not?

Is it possible to never move on or recover from something? I still think of him, still miss him, still love him. Every time someone says the name "Alan", it kills me. I can't say it out loud, can't stand to hear it. Thinking about him still brings me to tears. He's been gone for a year and five months. He doesn't think of me, doesn't want anything to do with me. He hates me. Sometimes I wonder if he ever really loved me. I have to believe that he did, or that he at least thought he did, otherwise I don't think I could handle this at all. It's hard enough to handle as is.

I always told myself I wouldn't be one of those girls who got all upset over a guy. But love changes you. I let my walls down. I let him in. I trusted him. That was my mistake. It's one I'll never make again. I'll never let someone have that power, that control over me. Never.

This is fucking ridiculous

This week's supposed  work schedule:

• Monday: 12-4
• Tuesday: 10-4
• Wednesday: Off
• Thursday: Off
• Friday: 12-4
• Saturday: 10-4
• Sunday: Off

This week's actual schedule:

• Monday: 12-4
• Tuesday: 10-4
• Wednesday: Off
• Thursday: 5-10
• Friday: 12-4
• Saturday: 10-4
• Sunday: 5-10

Normally, this wouldn't bother me. However, this week, we have had two high school graduations, and all the soccer tournaments are taking place. I'm so tired and my feet are killing me so badly that I haven't slept in my bed in a week because I can't make it up the stairs. I barely managed to be able to stand long enough to shower. My hair is still wet because I couldn't stand long enough to blow it dry and I can't  do it properly sitting down. When I flat-iron it though, I'm definitely sitting down.

One day off, barely eating, and being so fucking busy at work that half the time I couldn't tell you my head from my ass is really beginning to catch up with me. At least I'm off next Saturday for the benefit concert. And, I've had to up my song list, because they extended my set to a full hour.

Bonnie (the manager of Subway) bitched at me all day yesterday because she had to be at work on her day off because Randall called in when there was nothing to prevent him from working except laziness, so she was in a bad mood. Unfortunately, I seem to be her favourite target, and she hasn't liked me since day one. She thinks that just because I'm nineteen, I don't know anything and I have to be spoken to like I'm five. I fucking hate that. I may be young, but I'm not a fucking moron, and I'm more mature than most people twice my age. It will all be worth it in the end though, so I hold my tongue (a huge struggle for me) and I go about my day. Fucking bitch.

Gyms, and such

So, today I decided I'm going to join a gym. I've wanted to for years, but now I actually have a steady job, and so I can afford it. I've been working on the script for Bits and Pieces and hopefully I'll have it completed soon. The benefit is slowly approaching, and the song lisr is as follows:

• "Lie Awake"--Alison Krauss and Union Station
• "I Hate Myself For Loving You"--Joan Jett
• "Never Saw Blue"--Hayley Westenra
• "Faithfully"--Journey