House bringage.

I was in a show recently. And I say this whilst attempting not to sound.....over confident, but i actually didn't suck. I made the audience laugh 4 times, didn't fail my quick change, and my australian accent didn't suck either. Quite simply, I feel like for once, I brought the house down, without tripping over anything.

If she goes...

If Greta goes then she gets a nice happy life on a farm. With places to run and things to chase. Someday she'll be too preoccupied with chasing chickens or whatever to remember the one who argued for days upon fucking days to just get her a bowl. She'll forget the one who named her, and petted her until she looked stoned with happiness. If Greta goes then she'll get what I always wanted, she'll go far far away from East. If Greta goes, I will stay. Stay here with the sick sadistic people that the fates placed me with. The ones who exiled her, and said that she was just too much. Too much what? Energy? Pee on carpets?
What the hell did I do? Every fucking thing that I have ever loved i just can't have. It's like the fates or god or whoever is just sitting there switching between my life and hbo reruns and "WHOOPS! Looks like she almost LOVED something there for a minute, better screw that up,". Seriously from George Harrison, to Norah, to Belle, Adam Lambert, taken theatre guys number one and two, these are just the examples from THIS YEAR of SHIT THAT I LOVED WITH MY HEART AND SOUL THAT DIDN'T WORK OUT. But this is my doggie, and I love her and I want her to stay.

bless me sister gaga! for I have sinned!

Didja see the alejandro video? Didja see the "burning cross homage to maddonna like a prayer" references? DID YOU SEE THE LATEX NUN HABIT! LADY GAGA IS A NUN. I think this is what the Mayans meant when the world was ending. I HAVE SEEN IT ALL! Who knew rosary's were edible? Or red? And what's up with THE DUDES IN HEELS? *fist pump* DRAG QUEENS IN MODERN MEDIA! GO ANDROGONY! So many questions...and mental images of my church freaking out.... whatever shall I do? Hahahahahaha I still can't get over the lady gaga in a nun's habit thing...sing it with me now "THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC!". Oh and the scene with gaga and her bra...I think it grew arms. Maybe the haus of gaga spilled some mutant panty juice on it. And what do you think about the scene where gaga is riding her back up dancer like a frickin' pony? I think we all know what that means.
Oh sister gaga! Bless me for I have sinned! *makes sign of the cross* Amen!

why I do what I do

I'm a people pleaser. I don't care how shitty I feel, if I was in a desert with one water bottle, with five other people, I'd let them go first. Because that's just what I do. I fix other people's problems for them. I bring the band aids, hold purses, and give the relationship advice. And when that advice fails, I buy water proof mascara and bad magazines. I patch up the holes and the broken hearts with duct tape and barbie band aids. I can't stand to have the people around me unhappy. I hate it. I'd rather have them be happy, and me be miserable. That's why I like make up. 'cause it patches up all the red marks and zits, and it makes you look pretty when you feel like crap. It's like a mask, nice and snug and warm. A protective shell, like a hermit crab. I like when I put on a lot of lipgloss, and it gets all thick and gooey. It's like armor for your lips. It makes me feel safe. Right now I feel wierd. Like I want to start crying and I don't know what else. I feel raw and exposed, and everything aches. I feel like I'm going explode and like i'm in handcuffs and i'm clawing and writhing around and searching for the key. I never write when I'm like this. I don't want to force my shit upon the random people of the internet. I'm private when it comes to feeling crappy. I'm like a dog, i think of showing pain as a sign of weakness. And why the hell am I writing this? I don't want pity. All I used to get when I was little was pity. Why am I upset. I'm crying right now, ruining mascara that I slaved over. I should stop. Shut up and stop. But I don't want to. When I feel sick, like while I'm in school. I never go home. I just wait until the end of the day, and then when I'm alone i collapse and burn. 'Cause that's how I am.
Sometimes I think that I try to fix other people's problems so I don't have to deal with my own. I love helping people, and distractions. I need distractions to function. Why am I like this? Is it me trying to run away from my problems? Sometimes I'm too focused on other people to look at moi, and then I get like this and it's eleven at night and i should be sleeping but I'm not and I want to crawl into a sleeping bag and zip it all the way up. But my whole premise of helping people is "do what you wanted people to do for you".
So basically I give all the love that I have, and some guts and a kidney. But most of the time, I get nothing back. and sometimes it's fine, most of the time i expect absolutely nothing. But then it's eleven at night and i need a sleeping bag.

My asthetic/ L.G's human! who woudda thunk?

read this puhlease! It's an amazing articale that I just read about mama Monster...it was hilarious. The journalist who wrote it, went out and got absolutely SMASHED with her. I now have a new goal in life...get smashed, with Lady Gaga. Am I effed up or what? But on a more somber note, Mumsy Monster might have lupus. The articale talks about it, and she said she got tested for it. You'll seriously have to read the thing, I can't explain it. It's kinda wierd ya know? 'Cause I always kinda viewed Lady Gaga as this unstoppable, almost unhuman presence. Nothing could faze her. When my dog died, she was still flouncing around in panties and stilettos, and she did an entire dance on the stairs...stairs freaking kill me. I don't do stairs...stairs don't get me cast in shows. I have to claw my way up stairs, and lack of railings cause me to faceplant..off them. I can't go down stairs with one foot on one stair. I have to take it one at a time, get the picture? And Lady gaga can gyrate on them, in heels.
when I read the thing about the lupus, I kinda lost my shit. Almost like when Micheal Jackson died, except wierder. The first thing I thought was "wow, she's as fucked up as the rest of us...she's fucked up, just like you..."
This week's been a gaga week for me. I've been reading a book about her, and in it, she talks about her asthetic, why she makes art, her niche. My asthetic is all the stuff that your parent's, don't want you to know. I write to shock and make people think, esspecially to thank the gays and the lovely transvestites of the world. I write to make people collapse on their beds, and squeal 'cause that make out scene they just read was so hot and so sexy that they can't take it. I write to expose people, to drugs and gay culture and theatre. I write for everyone.
What about y'all?

Lipstick Liberation

I've taken a sudden interest in make up. In my eyes, make up is about helping you love yourself, and deal with your imperfections. I don't care how much you spend on cosmetic surgery, no matter what you do, your stuck with the face god gave you. So, you might as well try to celebrate it. The thing I love about make up is, personally, it makes me a more confident person. It can help you see the beauty in your own face. It's one thing for a friend or parent to call you beautiful, but when you think it yourself, that's going somewhere. Makeup can help you do that. Some people view make up as shallow and vapid. When really, it's anything but. Make up is about celebrating femininty, and caring enough about yourslef put some effort into how you look.

rejection is a bitch

Guess im not in alice in wonderland....actually it's more like shitland now. Whatever, rejections a bitch, but she'll go away eventually. c'est la vie. share your acting fails via the comment box.