All Hallow's Eve

So as everyone else would say Halloween is tomorrow. There are a lot of different beliefs on where halloween came from. I believe that it was taken from the Celts. They celebrate Samain or Winter Soltice at about the same time. However, Samain is determined on the lunar calander and modern halloween is a set day on the modern calendar. This is because, slowly as the calendar system changed the holidays were adapted to fit the new calendar. Anyway, to make a long boring story short; go have fun and celebrate the fake Celtic holiday.
I am being Mother Earth as a teenager for halloween, mostly so I can be irrational and wear a minishirt when it is too cold to do so and also because I own a lot of green and brown clothing, so I don't have to spend money. I was thinking of going topless, but scraped that idea when I thought about the weather and that I left my stick-on bra at home. Anyway, I'm going to be normal and wear a shirt. Well, I guess normal for a Dramatic Writing major. There is this boy in The Experimental Theater Wing who decided freshman year he was not going ot wear a shirt ever again and he hasn't. He wears sweaters and coats, mind you, but not a shirt.
Anyway, that's the update. Nothing horrible, well except the stuff that's pending, but nothing has changed. I'll let you know, when I know.

Hairspray

I saw Hairspray (The Musical) last night and it is a briiliant piece of high quality Broadway show stopping fluff. I highly recommend seeing it if you can. It is based on the movie by the same name. The movie starred Ricki Lake, but I haven't seen it so I don't know how it is. Anyway, the stage version is probably a million times better.
The outting was so much fun. I love my new friends so much. I just hope that in 20 years I can say that those people are "my college buddies" or whatever the current identical cliche might be at the time.
So, I know I promised lots of teen angst, tragedy and depression, but I've been in such a mostly good mood recently and I don't want to spoil it by digging up past problems. However, if you are in desperate need of some juicy horror, I'll say that I might be pregnant. I never thought I would ever utter (or type) those words in relation to myself or in all honesty, but I have a good reason for this terror. The first sign was spotting. I've never done that before and midcycle bleeding is never a good thing, so I was worried. Then I was really nausous for about a week straight and now it comes and goes. On top of that I'm about a week late. So the terror mounts. I told the guy who helped me get into this predicament and he's been really supportive and really kind. In fact he was one of the people who I saw Hairspray with. Just as a side note, please don't take me for some uncontrolable slut, who at the first moment away from her parents goes wild and has lots of sex and drinks massive amounts and does all kinds of drugs. I haven't mentioned drinking or drugs, so there, and before coming to college I was essentially a virgin(maybe I'll explain the "essentially" part some other time). I haven't taken a pregnancy test because you have to wait two after a missed period for anything to show up. Which I think is rediculous. So I'm fairly nervous, jumpy and nausous all day, everyday. I think I can get the test done on thursday, which seems worlds away even though it's only about a week.
So there is your teen drama for the day. I'm usually not this intersting, but things just seem to keep happening. I hope things cool off and I can just be a "normal" college freshman (ha! what does that even mean? and could I ever be considered normal? Wait, don't answer that)

I don't have class today until 3:30, so I'm fairly happy at the moment. Happiness is something to treasure. If you have it don't let it go ever. Sadness is not worth the "knowledge" you gain from it. I promise.
I'm listening to Savage Garden now. If you remember them at all. They were a band from Australia, only two guys. They had a big song in like '99. The Animal Song. I'm pretty sure I'm the only on who remembers. Anyway, I like them. They have a lot to say.
So besides being a college student recovering (or attempting to) from depression, I am a writer. In fact that's what I'm studying, Dramatic Writing, in the best city on earth(as far as I can tell). I figured I include a short story. Its really more along the lines of microfiction, which doesn't devalue it. Microfiction is hard. The best uber-microfiction story is by Hemmingway and it is only SIX WORDS long. That is incredible. He deemed it his best work. I shall quotes it for those of you who are not familiar with it. "For sale: baby shoes, never used." Isn't that tragic. I think it is amazing. Anyway, my story is a bit longer. Here is it:

Cat Toast

A small tabby cat slowly swaggered across the bright alley. A stumpy man, who’s hair matched that of the cat, crotched behind a tin garbage can. The tabby, finding a suitable ray of sun, arranged itself for a midday nap.
As soon as the cat’s tail was appropriately angled from it’s hind legs, the man pounced. Grabbing the cat with his paws and cradling it in his shirt, the man withdrew the tabby to his apartment.
The cat’s eyes flashed in the sudden dark. Swiftly the man plopped the cat into a cardboard box. Near by from a round table covered in string, the man retrieved an open jar of jam and a butter knife,
Taking a large scoop of jam upon the knife, the man evenly spread grape jam along the back and tail of the tabby. When the tail’s tip was sufficiently covered in jam, the man, again, collected the cat and returned to the alley. The man replaced the cat in its ray of sun and resumed his spot behind the trash can.

Not all my work is this strange. Everything is different. If I tell the same or similar stories more then once I bore myself. Currently I am working on a one act play which could be categorized as a sex farce. People think its funny, which is good. I'm not sure what to think about it. Anyway, thanks for listening. Until next time; may the gods of Valhalla bless you. (I know its not Celtic, but I'm also Scandinavian and I should give that side of my ancestory some acknowledgment).

What's in a name?

I just wanted to make a note on the name of my blog site. Tuatha De Danann is a sect of the celtic religon. Some call it a cult. It is based on the goddess Morrigan. She is the goddess of war and fertility. Talk about confused. She is a goddess of the number three, meaning that she can take three different forms and relates to the female power number three. Which represents the three parts of life. The same idea governs the three fates in greek mythology, but the Celtic version is better. Also as a side note the name Celtic is pronounced with a hard 'K' sound as the 'C' not an 'S' sound. That is an angelized pronounciation of the letter 'C' and Celtic is pre-christian and pre-english language. Celtic is so much better.

The Beginning

Well Hello,
This is my first blog ever and this is my first post on this blog. Anyway, not that any of that matters much and I don't find it particularly exciting, well maybe somewhere deep down inside. Which brings my to why I've started a blog to begin with.
I've started this blog in hopes that it will be relieving, a way to manage stress and express my emotions or problems without having to spend money on a psychologist.
Let me just get this out now. I really ought to see a shrink. A lot of people over many years have told me this including my general practisioner, but as I am a college student and neither of my parents have real jobs at the moment due to Bush's failing economy policies (but that's another matter all together) I really don't have the money to see a shrink and feel that I should just impose my confused mental state on the just of the world (haha. That should have been funny.)
Secondly, I'm not telling my friends about this site, so the odds are that if you are looking at this you have no idea who I am, which is fantastic, so feel free to tell me to go to Avalon (that's Celtic humor, so don't worry if you don't get it).
So to get to the real point, let me tell you about myself, or the part I created this blog for.

As I said before I am a college student, actually I am a freshman. So I've only been here for two months. Contrary to all my friends, suitemates and floormates, I do not miss home. I love being here and I never want to go back. In fact, I mean not to. (sorry for the LOTR reference, they just spill out some times). I have diagnosed myself as being manic depressive. I haven't seen a shrink so I might be off, but usually you can tell. All through middle school I was very happy. Life was perfect and worth living. Then high school came around and I hated high school. I hated everything from day one. There was a teacher or two who made it a little better, but on the whole I hated it and fell into depression. In fact, my mother was very worried that I slept so much and took my for about a million different blood tests-everything from anemia and mono to lupus. I hate needles. In the end the doctors were like "she just seems depressed. Let me refer you to a shrink." Then I would never go, because I didn't want to talk about it. I want to talk about it now. Which means I'm probably in a manic phase or somewhere in between. I've been mostly happy since I escaped to college.
In high school I actually had two breaks downs, which I would like to talk about now. The first one was spring break of sophomore year. A friend of mine pushed me into a wall and was fairly violent. That set me off. I think I was ready to collapse and that action was just the straw that broke tha camel's back. My friend did apolegize because I was so hurt by his actions and we are still friends, but I never really blamed him. During the breakdown I spent a week in my room in nonstop tears. I didn't eat. I didn't really sleep. I tried to slit me wrists once, but my parents came upstairs and I didn't want them to see me doing that. I didn't want them to save me. I just wanted to die and I didn't want to be "saved". I slowly came out of the collapse, but I didn't want to face the world again and I had to go back to school. Some people noticed that I was different, but most people didn't say anything.
The second break down came a year later, but not during spring break. I had gone on vacation during spring break and you can't have a mental collapse on a vacation. I didn't go to school for three days, then my parents finally forced me to go, but I just sat in my classes. I wasn't really there. I was still hibernating in my room. Crying in my brain.
I can't tell you why I collapsed. Maybe I was tired of being strong, exhausted from pretending or maybe I wasn't ready for the world. Maybe it was ready for me. Either way all I know is that I went through a lot of pain and I didn't think that anyone was going through the same thing or would understand what I was going through. However, I've been more open since I got to college and I'm not scared to tell people what I've experienced and I find people who have had similar experiences. I am not alone (I know it sounds cliche). I am not alone.
I think that's enough. I don't want to bog anyone down so quickly. Small steps. One at a time. Maybe tomorrow I will say more or talk about something else. Maybe I'll be happy.