Say It Somehow

Pull up a chair – it’s a long one.

We’re in a new decade, for those of you (I’m talking to you, Sean Watkins) who can’t count. Now, some people argue that 2010 is the last year in the decade and that 2011 marks the start of a new decade. Their reasoning is logical – the C.E. started on year 1, not year 0, they say. But, even if that was true (which we can’t prove, because we kinda estimate year dates that go back that far) it doesn’t matter. Would you consider 1950 as part of the 50’s or the 40’s? I consider it part of the 50’s, personally, as do generations of people. The reason I say this is because of the 50’s pop CDs that begin with music produced from 1950-1959. Ten years (remember that 1950 is year one, and 1951 is year 2, and so on) make a decade. Besides, Wikipedia says the 2000’s are from Jan 1st 2000 to December 31st 2009. And EVERYTHING Wikipedia says is true. So 2010 is the new decade and that’s all I will say on the matter. In the last decade, I accomplished some stuff and didn’t accomplish other things.

In the 2000th year of our Lord, I was attending middle school at Carver Magnet School in Tulsa, OK. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Okay, I take that back. It was just the worst of times. I don’t remember the majority of middle school. I do remember my school having a mock election and Gore being the victor. I also think the nation had an election and Gore won the presidency, but for some reason the next 8 years were spent with some Texan named George.

This last decade started off okay. I had been on top of the world in 6th grade – I was accepted into Carver Middle School, which filled me (and more importantly, my parents) with pride. Carver is (was?) Tulsa’s “Best and Brightest” middle school. Carver is a Tulsa Public School, but instead of getting its students from its region in Tulsa, it recruits students from all over Tulsa. Admission was competitive, students were supposed to be the smartest ones that TPS had to offer. And so you can understand why I was so honored to be admitted.

I had worked my butt off to get to that point in elementary school, because I’ve always been a competitive kid with my intelligence. I spent hours reading in my room in elementary school, I rarely watched television (unless Wishbone was on, because that show was the shit) and I was a big nerd. I had a lot of pride instilled in me about my studies from Mom and Dad too, which fueled me because I was and still am a people pleaser. I think that’s one of my biggest faults (and maybe my best virtue too) that I put others before me.

The Tulsa Public Schools website says “Carver students achieve the highest standardized test scores of all middle schools in Tulsa County.” Well, it’s easy to achieve the highest scores when you select your students and bus them to you. I don’t have many fond things to say about Carver. I think it treats other schools that they aren’t as valued.

Good things come from Carver too though. The student body is the most diverse middle school student body in all of Tulsa. The powers that be ratio out the student body to have a diverse student body that is about ½ white kids, ½ other races. This all seems pretty silly on paper, because the “½ other races” isn’t to my knowledge divided into Hispanic, Black, or Asian, but just a general “colored kid” thing. Don’t quote me on that, I could be wrong. The amazing thing, that I wish I could have realized while I was there, is that I didn’t ever notice much of a difference. Middle School is a rough time for everyone, and generally adolescents tend to make friends with kids that are like them. But in classes, diversity allowed for greater education opportunities.

One exception came from a project we did in our science class. The project was to split up into groups of four and construct a shelter using only supplies from the outdoor classroom. We used twigs and wove them together, topped them with leaves in an attempt to keep out the elements, and so on. It was really awesome. The stipulation on the project was that we would be working with students that we didn’t hang out with, so groups of friends were split up to allow for us to learn team building skills with new people. Also, groups had to be diverse, so 2 white kids and 2 Black/Hispanic/Asian kids were in each group, and of that two must be female and two male. I understand what they may have been attempting to do, but a fatal flaw had occurred in their plan. Mary (Name changed, to protect her) had a Black father and white mother. When she joined my group, she classified herself as the Black female – (which was the race she probably identified with, but that’s her prerogative, I don’t mean to speculate, I’m just trying to make an example) and a teacher came by and asked her to join another group. Her skin tone was relatively light, so I guess I can understand the teacher’s err, because this teacher did not have her in any classes and didn’t know her. She joined another group at that point, as white female. A second teacher came by after this point and asked her to join another group. This made her very upset, as I’m sure you can imagine.

I can relate to self identity issues, being bisexual. And wish I had been stubborn enough to join a group as a white male. But that would have been purely stubbornness on my part, to be completely honest, as I don’t identify as a male, but as a female. I’m sure there were those in my class which did identify as other sexes, but in middle school in 2000, everyone was trying their best to be normal (as I’m sure middle school-ers still do today). And so what if I identified as a Black male? Who are you to say what I am?

I would like to take a moment now and recall the anthem of my identity – ‘I am what I am’ from La Cage Aux Folles. I thank you.

But back to the good things about Carver. Student body was diverse, which wasn’t an eye opener until I moved to Durant, OK for college, which is hardly diverse at all. Where it’s not out of the ordinary to hear a man remark on the tragedy of having to pay taxes to support all those Black folk. Yuck. It’s painful to me to hear or see ignorance like that. But LGBTs get it too, so I fight fire with water and just wait for those ignorant people to die out so we can pass some legislation to give us equal rights (if not socially, than legally).

The teachers were outstanding at Carver, I will agree. I have a special place in my heart for Mrs. Christy, Mrs. Brown, Mr. Wilkerson, among others. The student counselor, Anne Hayes, may be responsible for single handedly saving me from the horror that is adolescence. She said the right thing, always.

In September of 2001, the world was changed. I was sitting in the cafeteria, eating breakfast with Libby, when Mrs. Stockton (one of Carver’s guidance counselors…) rolled in a TV and plugged it in. We didn’t know what to think or say. We sat in horrified silence. What did this mean? Were we going to war? Was the draft going to be reinstated? This is what went through my mind, honestly. We walked to our first class in a haze. Mr. Tyrone Wilkerson didn’t turn the TV on, unlike other classrooms. He sat in a chair in the middle of the room while we voiced fears and asked him questions. He was the best. An outstanding human being, who cared for us from the bottom of his soul. He passed away last year, and I was very sorry to hear of his passing.

Later that year, I was struck with a severe case of depression. I lost interest in school work or reading. I spent a lot of time on the computer, on forums and blogs. I rarely read books. I started playing role playing games to escape from my life. Then I started cutting. I cut my legs, so no one would see. I wasn’t happy with my body, so I didn’t eat much. I started trying to identify with emo kids too, succumbing to peer pressure to wear baggy black clothes and listen to bands that I didn’t like much (except the Offspring, because they are the shit). I know now I was doing it all for attention, but it was real for me then. I thought I was the most pitiful human ever. I hated myself so much. I think now that this may have been because I just wasn’t self aware. I was having relationships with women, sexual ones, but I was in denial of my own sexuality. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. In 2002, I attempted suicide. Mom found me and stopped me, and told me to get in the car. Dad came out and asked “what the hell is wrong? There’s no reason you should be sad!” He was right of course, but you can imagine what I thought of THAT statement. Mom took me to Laureate, a psychiatric hospital. I was assessed and then taken to a doctor who talked to me. Over the next couple of months, Dr. S and a psychologist helped me with drugs and therapy. And then I came out to my psychologist, and she recommended I find another therapist. When I told Dr. S what she said, he was furious, but tried not to let it show. He found Dr. W who was a great therapist and the most intelligent understanding person I’ve ever seen. Dr. S was awesome too, and if I had known better I could have made his job easier. I didn’t discuss side effects with him, until it was too late.

I had been in therapy for some time, and on a pill called Paxil. One of the known side effects of Paxil, which is no longer prescribed to children I might add, is agitation. I also feel like it left me numb to everything. I didn’t feel like myself, but I thought it was a good thing at the time. I don’t remember much of 7th or 8th grade to be honest, because I was just going through the motions. In 2003 I punched my best friend in the arm. I remember that. I don’t remember following her to Mrs. Brown’s classroom or having Mrs. Brown hold me back. I don’t remember anything else from that day until I was sitting in Mrs. Stockton’s office, aware of my suspension from school for three days. The next day I went to see Dr. S, who wasn’t aware of my adverse side effects. He took me off the drug, and moved me to another which did wonders. I don’t praise it as being a miracle drug, but with therapy and Effexor I was able to get through middle school.

The last bit of 8th grade year, I was happy and back to myself and ready to go to high school. But I was rejected from the magnet high school.

Booker T. Washington’s acceptance was more competitive than Carver. And on account of my suspension, I was rejected. I tried to appeal, but was told I was SOL. I would have to go to my home school. This wasn’t acceptable at all. I coped with it alright though, considering my mental instability at this point in my life. Especially considering I was one of three Carver students that were rejected. One day, busses of Carver 8th graders were bussed over to BTW to enroll. The three of us that were rejected sat in the library all day. The next week, I visited Edison HS, which was a new magnet program in the TPS system. Its student body was comprised of students in the district surround it, but in fall of 2002 they were implementing a magnet program at the school. I met with Mr. Mayfield, the principal, and Mr. Stevenson, a Junior-year AP English teacher, to discuss my transfer into the school. I had not applied to it within the deadline, since I had been so certain that I would be going to BTW, but they had a few extra spots. I convinced them (though it didn’t take much) that I was a better student now and that my problems at Carver had been a mistake. Edison welcomed me with open arms.

And that was the 1st blessing in disguise that happened to me last decade.

Edison was just as good (if not better) than Booker T! Okay, maybe not in the football department (but who cared much?) but in my education…? I took 4 years of Latin, 2 years of Chinese, wonderful AP classes, and did the best theatre shows this side of the Mississip. I was involved with Academic team (for quite a time, until theatre got in the way), I was elected state president of the Junior Classical League and went to National conventions of Latin-language-lovers, and I was published in not one but two literary journals. Each teacher I had was passionate and priceless. Ones that stand out in my mind are Mr. Easter (Freshman English, Rouge literary magazine, and Academic Bowl), Mrs. Harrington (Theatre goddess), Mr. Stevenson (Junior AP English teacher, creative writing teacher, and Eyrie literary magazine), Mrs. Wallace (Latin teacher and StuCo sponsor, as well as JCL sponsor), Mr. Hao (Chinese teacher, who was a native speaker on a work visa to teach us – he was so freaking awesome), Dr. Davis (AP Biology teacher, who kicked ass and took names), Mr. Hammond (Algebra, Calculus, Trig, and Statistics teacher – all subjects that I wasn’t any good in until he came along. Still not very good, but I can hold my own), among countless others. Edison was a blessing in disguise. And screw you, BTW. (Bitter? Party of one?)

I heard the same song when I went to college. Evansville was my number one choice, but only accepted 9 actors into their program. I wasn’t one of them. I was in a panic. I had other schools on my list, but I really wanted Evansville. My second choice would have me though, and I was prepared to go there… until I saw a production and talked to some students who were not happy with the department. Now I was really in a panic. I only had 1 month to make my decision, and no other prospects were looking up. Then Amber Harrington convinced me to come with her to see a show at her Alma Mater, Southeastern. I hadn’t even considered it before I saw their production of Scapin. I rushed to the admissions office in the pouring rain and told the secretary I wanted in.

That was the 2nd blessing in disguise from this last decade.

SOSU has been fabulous to me. I’ve furthered my education beyond what I expected. Every professor I’ve had is outstanding. SOSU really was the right place for me. And Edison was the school to get me there.

Also, I fell in love with some guy named Max. He’s alright, I guess.

So last decade I learned that sometimes you get disappointed, but that 2nd place is sometimes better than 1st. I learned how to cope with and overcome depression. I learned to love myself for who I am.

Let’s hope the next decade is as blessed for you and yours.

Penny the Kitten

We have a new addition to our household.

Meet Penny, blue russian kitten. She’s about 4 months old, and full of energy. Healthy, as far as we can tell. We’ll be taking her to the vet this week, to check her out and make an appointment to be spayed. Bob Barker would be so proud.

She came with some uninvited friends, though. So we’ve been battling fleas. Yesterday we had bath time, and that went very well. Surprisingly, Penny didn’t get too upset. After Bath #1, we combed through the hair and picked out all the buggers we could find. (Reminds me of when I had lice in elementary school. I remember it being a tramatic experience for me then, so I’m proud of Penny for not putting up too much of a fight.) Then we had a second bath, just for gits and shiggles. And then picked/combed through her coat again, found more. Finally, we put some kitten strength Puurscriptions drops on her, and let her on her merry way. She didn’t even bolt out the bathroom door when we opened it. 

So we think the battle may be won. We’re not so sure about the war yet. Haven’t spotted one on her since the bath, so that’s a good sign. I don’t want to flea bomb the place, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I just hate using all of those chemicals. We vacuumed every fabric and washed every bit of laundry, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed.

Penny is totally worth it all, though. I never thought I would be much of a cat person. I used to hate cats, but Penny has a great personality. We love her.

I don’t want to talk about it, in case I jinx it, but I just want to say that I have never been able to get there nearly every night during any run of any show. It’s the nature of the beast. Live theatre is a living thing, each night is different.

I am very proud of my work in Hamlet – and also of others. Lord, we’ve come a long way since our freshman year together. Chris is a beast as Hamlet. And our Claudius/King Hamlet, Josh, continues to suprise me every night. Aleisha, our Ophelia, is a completely different actor from when I met her four years ago. I am shocked every night at how great her work is. She has such power! Aleisha’s portrayal of Ophelia is my favorite.

Aside from Hamlet, I’ve noticed our growth in Method. Four years ago, when we sat side by side in intro to acting, we were not the same people we are now. That is not to say that our work is done – because it is just beginning. But my God, how we’ve grown!

And next year we will scatter. I want each of us to succeed.

There is one actor who I think I just met this year. Up until now I didn’t know him. I’m writing a piece for him. In Method yesterday he tore my soul apart. My current project is for him – who knows if he’ll ever play it – but maybe someday.

I’ve got two plays I’m working on right now, actually. After Hamlet, I’m putting pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keyboard) and I’m gonna vomit these suckers out. I’m submitting Watching from the Wing, my first completed work, to playwriting  competitions. I want it to do well, and I need to revise it one more time before I send it out into the world.

I’m so ready to work, and I’m afraid I won’t have any. Graduation approaches and the poor economy scares the hell outta me. What if I can’t find work? I refuse to move into my parent’s house again (speaking of which, both of my brothers did just that) but I’m afraid my pride will be my downfall.

Close your eyes, count to three, and jump.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but I’m finally getting back on track and having some time to myself. That’s one thing about this business. Once you think you have everything under control… complete chaos happens. I’m not complaining because if this business didn’t do that we all would throw in the proverbial towel.

Method class is good for me, but frightening. I feel like its one giant group therapy session. Every day at 10:30 am I am either sobbing uncontrollably or screaming at the top of my lungs. I’m sure it does wonders for my voice lessons. /sarcasm

I bought an external hard drive so I could transfer all of my music to said drive, and have yet to do it. I need to because my computer; a) has nearly 6% of free space left, b) is slower than molasses, and c) is five years old. Honestly, poor Maureen (which is what I named her, you must understand that it is easier to be angry with an inanimate object if it has a human name attached to it) is at then end of her life. She was a demo Toshiba Satellite bought from Office Depot on Black Friday. If you’re not familiar with Black Friday, bless you. If you are, chances are that you’re judging me or sympathizing with me.

Black Friday occurs the day after American Thanksgiving. It is a day when stores around the US slash prices and cut deals. Ridiculous deals. Like a TV/DVD combo for $20. As a little girl, I remember Mom and Aunt Georgia waking up at 3:00 in the morning to go to this mysterious event. Most sales start at 5:00 am, and would only last as long as that item was in stock.

The night before, Mom would have Martin and I go through the ads and circle our favorite toys. When we were old enough to know that presents didn’t come from Santa, we realized they came from Black Friday.  Martin and I would strategize – If we both wanted a game system or something like that, we would circle it, then circle gifts we knew Mom wouldn’t get us. Sometimes it worked in our favor, sometimes not. Martin was more concerned with getting a lot of little gifts – but for me, it was always about one big gift.

My parents had (and have) limited funds for Christmas – but as a kid it’s all about the presents, and Black Friday allowed them to stay within their budget but not disappoint. (I should clarify that we were never poor, just comfortable). While Martin would ask for 5 $10 gifts, I would usually ask for 1 $50 gift.

When I became fifteen, Mom said I was old enough to go with them for the sales. This would ensure that I would get the gift I wanted – however, I wouldn’t be able to open it until Christmas. At 3:00 am, Mom woke me up for my first Black Friday. I looked at her and said “it’s not worth it.” She turned out the light and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next year I was all about it though, so I woke up with them and headed out. Our first stop that year was Wal-Mart. They were offering some television that Georgia wanted or something, and some other nice things. Mom assigned me to wait in line for the $70 DVD player on sale for $10, and after I got one I could get whatever it was that I wanted.

I had never seen a Wal-Mart so packed. I stood patiently in a crowd of people around this DVD player and waited for 5:00 am to roll around. At time, a Wal-Mart employee comes over and with a box cutter, quickly cuts the saran wrap around the DVDs, then high tails it so he won’t be trampled. And that’s exactly what I was – Trampled. An old lady, about 60 or so, rammed me with her cart as I got my hands on a DVD player. Not one to take abuse from a stranger (just from my friends), I whipped around and my sixteen year old self said, “Is the world going to end if you don’t have this?” I threw one at her and turn around to get another for myself. There were plenty. An entire crate full of these DVD players and people were getting so upset about it. I hated it.

I met up with Mom, not finding anything else that I wanted, and put the DVD player in the cart. “How was it?” she asked.

“No way I’m doing this again next year.”

Open foot insert mouth.

The next year I was 17. I was in my senior year of high school, and applying to colleges and I needed a laptop. I had always been handy with technology, but our desktop was shared and Martin and I would always fight for time on it. Me to code websites (shrines and the like… Lord, what a waste of time!) and Martin to play video games. I was sick of it. But a Laptop was much more expensive than our Christmas budget would allow.

Lightbulb!

The sales on Black Friday always offered computers really cheap! I would brave Black Friday yet again for the sake of my education! (and entertainment, but I would leave that part out when pitching the idea to my parents)

The ads were published and Wal-Mart had a HP with my name on it. All the specs I needed, a name I trusted, and a free printer. $200 for the package. Holy snot, Batman! That was still out of our price range. Not to fret though. You see, my birthday is in December.

I took the ad to Mom and Dad. Before they looked at the price I begged them to let me finish my argument. I said that they wouldn’t have to spend any money on my Birthday, if on Christmas I opened up a HP laptop. Besides, we were going to have to get one anyway, because I was graduating in the spring and then I was going to college far, far away and if they expected me to email them… (Oh, I also didn’t have a cell phone at this time. In fact, I didn’t have one until my second semester in college. But that’s another story.) And how was I going to be able to do all of those research papers without a laptop!? Mom and Dad were sold! (And to be honest, I think they were thinking the same thing. I probably shouldn’t have offered up my Birthday gift in sacrifice, but I didn’t want to take any chances of them saying ‘no’)

So Black Friday, we get up at 2:00 am instead of 3:00 and head to the Wal-Mart in Owasso. (We rarely do our Black Friday sales in Tulsa proper. The crowds are bigger. Besides, we had to pick Georgia up and she lived/lives in Owasso.) I get in line at the HP booth, because there is a line for computers – not a crowd like there was for DVD players. I’m standing 24 in line at this time, and the woman ahead of me turns and tells me that an employee just said that they have 25 computers in stock. I’m golden! I wait happily, dreaming of opening up my new laptop and installing AIM, using Firefox, and have a desktop background that I got to choose. It’s about 3:00 am now, and the line has grown to about 50 people. An employee comes out and starts handing out tickets to the first people in line, and trying to tell the crowd that there are limited computers. I ask the employee when he gets to me how many there are and he tells me 25. I’m golden. Some people in line behind me walk away. Then another employee comes from the back and tells us there are only 23 computers so if you are behind the lady in the blue shirt, you are wasting your time. Wait… 23?! There were 25 a minute ago.

“Excuse me! You must have made a mistake. You said you had 25 a minute ago.”

Turns out two Wal-Mart employees had staked their claim on the sale. WTF. Bye bye HP. I was going to treat you so well too.

By now its 3:30 and I’m frantic. Other sales at other stores certainly had lines beyond their stock by now. I find Mom and explain the situation. She tells me to go to the car and look at the ads for my second pick and we’ll try there. I do, and find Office Depot’s ad for a Toshiba Satellite. Not as great specs, and I don’t like Toshibas too much, but it’s as cheep and comes with a printer too. What do you know; Office Depot is right next door and not even open yet…. No lines in front of the doors… I’m golden!

So I run, not walk, to the door and sit on the cold concrete. Mom finds me and I tell her the plan. She waits with me as others start to join us in line. Around 4:30 an employee comes and turns on the lights inside the store. At 5:00 am, the doors are open and my mom and I go immediately to an employee, show him the ad, and he takes us to the computer and gives us the only ticket for it. Now we just have to go to the register and check out with the ticket, he says. We’re golden!

We get to the register and hand the employee the ticket.

No dice.

Seems that some people in line went strait to the register without getting the ticket, showed the ad, and had already purchased the item and left. Mom threw a fit for me. It was an Oscar award winning performance, complete with tears. I was so embarrassed. But the manager pulled us aside and told us he was going to make it right. He was going to order another today and it would be in the store in a month. We would purchase it at sale price and everything would be peachy. Except a month from Thanksgiving is actually on Christmas. Mom tells him that isn’t good enough, even though I’m pleading with her to say it is. He offers her the demo laptop. That thought had never crossed my mind. She says that it would be okay, and they box it up for us and we leave.

You should never purchase a demo laptop, even for $200. The battery is nearly dead, parts are missing, and it’s not as satisfying. My battery life when I first got Maureen was 45 minutes. Now it’s nearly 20. I never had a remote, though there is a place for one and the box said it was included.

Hindsight is 20/20.

Maureen goes into retirement this year. She’s going to a home that will love her (i.e. Max) and I’m braving Black Friday yet again to get a new one. This time I’m camping out. And I’m certainly not going to Office Depot. We’ll see where I’ll be going when the ads come out. I’m on a tight budget, but I’m not going to settle for second best this time.