This one goes out to the Milton High School classes of 2003 and 2004...

I have been overwhelmed lately with the creative output of several graduates of our fine institution. Let me make it clear that to tie all of us to Milton is only to reference that school which we have in common, for besides those professors or moments at Milton that made us who we are, all of you should know that the incredible potential in each of you was not taught...not even through the AP program. No, it is those inherent geniuses in all of you that constantly overwhelm me. If any of you is reading this thinking I am only referring to certain people, you are mistaken. I have a sense of who reads this blog and I know that the people I knew in high school, all of them, were, in some way shape or form, capable of amazing things. Whether I was blind for the past few years and have only now realized it or if suddenly everyone's tapping their creative juices, suddenly the potential, combined and personal, of you guys is blossoming beautifully. I'd like to thank you all for being endlessly inspirational.

That being said, I ask all of you, for reasons I'm still not clear on, to keep at it. Whatever it is, I'm leaving that open, but I feel as if we're all at a point where we must decide whether we'll do these things, "satisfy the inscrutable exhortations of our soul" as Calvin would say, or if we'll let college, in its warm yet sinister way, convince us that whatever we want to say has been said, whatever we want to do has been done, and whoever we want to be must be subject to the majors available to us. Sure, a lot of college gives us more experience, more insight, more age, but all that is nothing if not appreciated. No, all of us have something to contribute. I know that because I had classes with you, lunches with you, walks with you, and for some, as little as a conversation with you that told me that, regardless of how much I noticed at the time, you had something to contribute. Maybe that seems egotistical, to say I learned that each of you has something to offer me. Maybe it is, or maybe it's just that I recognize that I would be nothing without the inspiration you've ALL fostered in me. I know if I were to say this to any one of you, you'd shrug it off and smile and crack a joke to kill it. I would to if someone said this. I'm hoping that shotgunning it out over all of you makes you stop and think for a moment. So to all of you, those who have already shared your creativity with me or those whose promise I only glimpsed once in a smile or a word or a look, I beg of you to never say die and put yourself out there.

What brought this on? I can't honestly say. But I know these two classes, with whom I had the most contact, are chock full of the next generations poets, artists, creators and lovers. Maybe college will harden us or has already, but chances are that all of us have at least a shred left in our beautiful views of the world.

Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/jgreengiant1914/my_photos

I joined the Yahoo Pictures craze. Check out the dorm room n' stuff

God, you KNOW it's a bad hangover when you not only have the headache of a lifetime but you just get pissed off about the state of your life. I mean, come now, is that REALLY just punishment for drinking, to make me down on myself.

Ok, so it's not quite so bad as all that. Pygmalion opened last night to a decent crowd and went really well. Since my role is supposed to be a clown, having an audience to play off of just amped me up that much more and I really had a lot of fun out there. What's more, I got some wonderful comments from some actors I really respect. No matter how many really great things they say, I'll still feel like I've pulled one over on this acting community here at Georgetown and someday they'll find me out and throw me backstage again. In all truth, it was great to hear and made me feel a lot better about all the time I've put into the show.

Champagne party was crazy. I was worse than I should have been and didn't thank anyone due to that. So I think a headache would have been fine to rebuke me after that, but alas, I also have to seriously question my writing and stuff.

I watched Adam's trailer today and it was absolutely astounding. The acting looks perfect, the shots are brilliant and, most importantly, the writing sounds incredible. Now I'm going to ruin all those nice things I said by saying I went straight from the trailer to taking a long look at the project I'm writing, and frankly, I'm not very happy with it at the moment. I don't know whether I think I'm too blunt or what, but I don't think my little jokes in it are enough to make it good writing. Maybe that's the hangover talking and tomorrow I'll crack out a few more pages and everything will be great, but maybe once again, I've come to a point in the process where I know I don't like it and I might just leave it.

So shit, way to blow a compliment to Adam and the gang, Ian. You guys really do blow me away.

Before I begin, I hope that the post I made like a week ago actually shows up now, which it hasn't since I made it, but whatever.

Yeah, things around here have been, well, hectic. I've been told numerous times in the last week that I look as if I'm a) sleep-deprived b) on the edge of a breakdown c) sad d) angry or e) any combination of the above. And the truth is, I have been all of those things at some point in the last week or so.

The show is looking great, but it's wearing on me as well. I realize it's wearing on everyone, but I always hated the outlook of "Stop bitching because we're all miserable too" because the fact is, it's my right to be miserable and if you are to, then I'll leave you alone and you leave me alone. Furthermore, I know it's stupid to bitch about work around georgetown students because there's always the guy who has more work than you, who tells you to shut up.

But at least my role is a lot of fun. My first costume looks like a well-dressed Newsie, my second costume is a tux, and my makeup is supposed to be reminiscent of a clown, which means that my cheeks, nose and lips are bright red, but blended so I just look drunk, which works with my character. The beard is getting pretty sketchy, especially matted down when I put makeup on. I can't wait till Halloween, so I can flaunt it and then lose it the next day. Don't worry though, I'll get a picture out to people somehow.

Classes are a mess. I just withdrew from my History class because it was just too advanced for me. I would never be able to devote my time to the 20 page paper with everything else going on. As you can imagine, that played hell with Ian's quitting complex, but the fact is, what am I proving to anyone by sticking with a history class I have no business being in? It ain't going nowhere. It's going fucking NOWHERE. Where's it going? NOWHERE!

I'm also trying to figure out study abroad at the same time. If I go, I'd end up in England for all of next year. I'm looking at Oxford and King's College in London. Either would be excellent and I love England, but then again, I'm not a very worldly person and I need to make sure it's something I want to do before I go. We'll see how it goes.

Otherwise, things are pretty normal.

I really hate politics.

I've spent all of high school and the first year at Georgetown outside of political arguments. I hate them. I hate their passive-aggressive nature. I hate the way friends end up leaving a conversation angry. I hate how you're in one camp or the other and God forbid you debate issue by issue. I hate how people argue for hours knowing that no one is going to give up ground.

But nonetheless, I finally make a political decision and find myself in those arguments. You know that feeling, when the conversation turns political and suddenly it feels like work and that all the good laughs you were having a second ago are shot to hell because someone made a comment about getting their absentee ballot.

Today I got myself into one of those arguments over brunch with some friends. I hated it because I could've sat there for another thirty minutes just having fun, but about 5 minutes into the argument, I left angry, not so much because I thought everyone else was flat out wrong or anything, but because I had found myself in a position I hate being in. Whatever happened to personal politics? Now suddenly we're mad that our best friends aren't voting, or at least we're mad until they tell us that they're voting for Bush, and then it's fine that they're not voting. How is that ok? Yeah, I think my friend is great, but since he disagrees with me, I hope he doesn't voice his opinion. That's a beautiful sentiment. I wasn't planning on voting because I considered myself uninformed. I thought that was a mature decision, but I got flak for it nonetheless. Now I talk about voting and get pulled in even further. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can't get my absentee ballot anymore. Then this shitstorm will pass and maybe we can have 3 years or so of decent conversations.

But yeah, I really fuckin' hate politics.

So I'm sitting here on a patent Aerobed in the loft of my mom's new apartment, snarling at the floral print of my temporary bedsheets, and fighting sleep for a while. I spent most of the day trying to figure out just what it was about the move that was really getting to me. It's not leaving the old house. I don't think the old house thing hits you until later, when you're visiting friends and you drive past it "just for ole time's sake" and then become hopelessly emotional because the new owners changed the mailbox. And it's not that our new home is about 1/5 the size of our old one, or that my bed is made of air or that our living room furniture at the moment consists of two fold-out camping chairs with built-in cupholders. That's all fine, too.

I think what it really boils down to is that I don't feel like I have a home at all anymore. Despite spending months away at school last year, whenever I got back to Mossy Place, it still was home after a bit of ice-breaking. I still felt comfortable throwing myself onto the couch and popping a movie in. But this place will always be Mom's apartment, not mine. She'll get into a day-to-day relationship with it, the kind that I established back home and came back to this summer, but as for me, this place holds no comfort. It sucks, because I could never ask Mom to stay in GA for me. I realized that after my initial outburst at her for moving. I know this is supposed to be a time where I realize that who I am is not about where I live and that I can be myself without feeling I have a claim on some corner of the world.

But I don't want to.

I was reading my red envelope letters on the Metro today while riding to the end of the Green Line for Mom to pick me up. Part of me just needed some comfort, a slight ego-stroke and a rush of warmth which always comes with reading them. Another part of me was hoping that I could draw some sort of strength from them, that reading really nice things about myself would make me realize that it's all going to be ok. It was a temporary fix, but it still helped a little at the time. I love those letters. I'm always finding a sentence I had previously past over and that little blurb just kills me with the kind of sap that we all mock because we hate to admit how much we love it.

I'm worried that I'm gonna go WAY outta my way to go back to GA this summer, to try and pretend everything's alright and that it's all just a big sleepover at someone's house. Don't get me wrong: I WILL be coming to GA this summer. I just want to come to see everyone and have a good time and not to latch on to my hometown in some attempt to face the future with the help of the past.

In other news, I JUST WANNA FUCKING FIND SOME TIME TO WRITE.

Ahem...that is all.