Shakespeare and the monkey

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, an actor and an actress met and fell in love. Eventually, they had a daughter who they named Elizabeth. When Elizabeth was young, she promised she would never be an actress like her parents. As time passed, however, a strange sequence of events resulted in Elizabeth being thrown into a season of Shakespearean dramas. To her great surprise, she loved acting. Shakespeare was her favorite because there was so much substance to his plays. She decided that she wanted to become a professional Shakespearean actress.

After many failed audition attempts, Elizabeth secured a place with an acting troupe. It was not quite Shakespeare but she was confident that she could use (and continue to develop) her talent which would help her be a better actress. As with any company, the first few shows were rough but Elizabeth thought it just needed time. Unfortunately, time only made things worse.

Eventually, Elizabeth realized the awful truth. She had been hired by a circus and turned into a performing monkey by a powerful magician. She had been reciting monologues and blocking scenes when all they wanted her to do was stand on a ball, pat her head, and rub her tummy. At first, Elizabeth tried to resist. They might have turned her into a monkey but she knew who she really was. She continued on, trying to share Shakespeare with those who visited the zoo. Unfortunately, the zookeepers were not happy with this. They had to find a way to make her stop.

The answer came with a simple strip of duct tape. The zookeepers placed this tape across Elizabeth-monkey's mouth and sent her back into the cage. Poor Elizabeth was heartbroken. After rejecting acting for so long, she was finally ready to perform and was now restricted to eating bananas (yes, there was a mysterious way she still could eat  them even with the duct tape.. it's a fairy tale... don't question it)  and scratching her head and armpits.

One day, a wiser monkey came to visit Elizabeth. This monkey knew that Elizabeth was not really a monkey. The wiser monkey told Elizabeth that the zookeepers did not really want an actor but only a monkey.  She knew that she was better than that but she also had to accept that all the zoo wanted was a performing monkey and they would keep finding more ways to punish her when she tried to do more complicated performances. Elizabeth was still sad but she agreed to pretend to be a monkey. It was simply not worth fighting about because the zookeepers would always win.

TBC?

In other news, I still love extended metaphors and Happy Thanksgiving (one day late).

Finally

After almost six miserable months of no direction, the needle on my compass has finally found its way back to North. I've been barely surviving these past few months: living at my parents' house, just got a job last month at Walmart, singing a little, reading, and wasting time online. I wasn't working towards anything and didn't even know what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go. If asked where I saw myself in 5 or 10 years, the honest answer was, "no idea." The future was a huge hole. Rather than a light at the end of a tunnel, I felt like I was on a train hurdling faster and faster into a cave with no other end. And then my "fever broke."

I was in a meeting with my counselor on Wednesday when I gave her one of the "missing puzzle pieces" which I thought she had known all along. With that information, she helped me make sense of connections and priorities between my main goals/dreams in life. By the end of the session, I had a plan of action (somewhat) and something to work towards. Later that day, I was able to understand a decision I had made a few months ago. I knew that the decision was somehow logical, but until I saw the connection, I had no idea how or why it made sense. I get it now. And, with changes I'll be making in my life, the decision will probably be reversed in time.

In the short-term, my plans are still being worked out. There are a number of different paths I can take but at least now I know where they are leading.

I can't want it, anymore

I'm ready for 2011 to be over. It's been such a crazy, long year filled with one crap-tastic misadventure after another. Yes, there have been good things too, but I feel like I've dealt with an overabundance of crud. And some of it has really caused me to reevaluate my life. Specifically the area of relationships.

The title of this post quotes a song from the musical Wicked. I can really relate to the whole song right now, but these lines in particular came to mind this weekend:

GLINDA: Elphie, listen to me.
Just say you're sorry
You can still be with the Wizard
What you've worked and waited for
You can have all you ever wanted
ELPHABA: I know
But I don't want it
- No - I can't want it
Anymore

As Elphaba continues to say, I feel like "something has changed within me; something is not the same." My whole life, getting married and having kids was just what I expected would happen. This was strengthened by the fact that I grew up in a town where many people do just that at a young age. And, for some people, that is exactly the right thing.

I went to a baptism this weekend. My childhood-best-friend and her husband were having baby #4 baptized. Things were hectic with all the guests and visitors and tons of kids running around, but when I saw her last year (at that point with 3 little ones) she seemed happier than I've ever seen her. And I'm glad for her and her family. But I can't even begin to imagine living that life. It's just not me.

And that's ok.

The past few months have changed my focus on relationships. I've gone from praying constantly for "mysterious future husband" to "mysterious future husband who I'm pretty sure is XXX but don't know for certain" to halfheartedly being back on CatholicMatch and finally, to where I am today:

I don't think I'm meant to get married. And, based on my progressively worsening experiences with guys, that's probably the best thing for society. Over the past few days, I've looked back at my past relationships and relationships I wanted to exist. With the exception of one great guy whose personality and mine would have created a giant disaster, I have had some pretty "special" experiences. Stalker, a holier-than-thou porn addict, the gay guy, rad-trad whose extreme views I'm still recovering from, the list could go on. (Haven't actually dated all of these guys but they liked me and/or I liked them and/or we dated) However, none of those hold a candle to the latest disaster.

Who is in jail.

Now, before everyone gets super worried, I'm fine. I wasn't involved nor was I in a relationship with the person (THANK GOD for both of those facts!). All the same, it was such a shock because no one would have ever expected what happened and he was someone who I really respected. And, unfortunately, it's not something quite as benign as running one too many stop lights.

So, especially since this comes on the heals of this summer, I'm just completely disenchanted by the idea of a relationship. It just seems to be the wrong thing for me to want. I want to sing. Yes, I realize that swearing off guys does not guarantee a career as a performer but that's what I'm going to focus on now.

After the baptism yesterday, I went to Pittsburgh and auditioned for an opera with a small opera company. Those two events, juxtaposed, really clarified things in my mind. Maybe it's just that "I can't want it, anymore." And, if that's the case, at least for today, I'm fine with it.

Motivation..

... and how I have none these days.

I'm back in the States. Living at my parents' house. Searching, desperately, for a car. With no success so far. It's incredibly frustrating. I have a place to live in PA. I've seen so many job advertizements that I want to apply for. But, until I have a way to get anywhere, I'm stuck. My life has consisted on sitting on the couch playing computer games alternated with checking the craigslist pages for three different cities (I love living in the middle of nowhere) to see if any new cars have been posted in the 20 minutes since I looked last. I've been slacking on everything. No blogging, no music practicing (despite having multiple auditions coming up ... provided I have transportation and can get to them), no going out (I've no money -- especially after the foundation refused to pay me for the last month that I worked). I check facebook and my email but don't even respond to messages half the time. If you're one of the people who I haven't gotten back to, I'm sorry.

I just feel so trapped. Part of this is a chemical problem which I'm working on correcting. This was the worst time of my entire life so far to try and wean off my meds. Add in the fact that I really had no desire to do so but finally talked to the doctor after being nagged and nagged to the breaking point by someone whose attitude towards medicine is basically: "drugs = bad, no drugs = good." Thankfully, that person is no longer part of my life and so I can try to reverse the problems that less medication has been causing.

Coming back to the States, I knew things wouldn't be easy. But I had no concept of just how hard they would be. Not only am I not where I want to be (Budapest), I don't have the option of moving on until I have a car. People ask me all the time if I'm home "for good." All I can tell them is I'm here "for now." Hopefully, I'll be out of this town soon but I'll likely be in the States for the foreseeable future. This job which I fled was my "trump card" to get me back to Hungary. And, now, I've played the card and life has turned into a whole new game in which it's not useful.

In conclusion, please pray for me. My life is a mess and I'm having a hard time dealing with everything. I will try to blog more frequently, but I can't make any promises. Once I'm actually "settled" I'm planning to make some "new life" resolutions including blogging on a regular basis. It just feels dumb to start any of that while life is so up in the air.

On writing...

... which I don't do nearly as much as I would like.

I have so many things running through my brain these days. They're on all sorts of different topics. And usually aren't related. So often, I'll start pondering something and think "gee, that would make a great blog post." But, almost without fail, I get home from where ever I was or finish what I was doing and end up on Facebook or checking my email repeatedly or wasting time on any of a half-dozen or so "time wasting sites" like cakewrecks or foodporndaily. Or, of course, I could be on Skype :) In any case, so many of these blogs just don't get written. And it frustrates me, because once I finally get around to writing, the things that inspired the post are weeks past.

Like the post I meant to write about life. That one was inspired by a comment made by a coworker that she didn't know why a special needs child hadn't been aborted. Add in the fact that Osama bin Laden was killed that next weekend and it could have been a great post. About the fact that ALL human life is sacred: whether it's Marko (the mostly blind and deaf - I think that's what is wrong - little boy that we see at the swimming pool) or a mass murderer or the innocents who are closer to being protected by the Hungarian constitution or the baby about to be born with a condition that will allow her to live only a few hours or the boy who develops severe autism after too many immunizations in a short period of time (those last two are from books I've read in the past few months the others are from "real life"). All of them deserve to live.

Seen in the subway station:

"I understand if you aren't ready for me, but give me up for adoption - LET ME LIVE!"

Or the post that I wanted to write about the play I saw last weekend: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Abridged, and how funny I found it. But then I had to deal with the harsh reality that I would have reacted differently had I been there with different friends. With some people I would have been (and was) laughing at the, shall we say "less than family friendly" jokes, language, costumes, etc. With other friends, I feel like I would have been squirming uncomfortably. And I realized how much I don't know about who I am. Just me - not compared to or with anyone else. What does Rose actually think about that? Who am I, really? And how can I relate to others if I don't know who I am?

Then, there's the post about Hungary and changing the names of things. In April when I was on my way to the airport, I realized that the airport had changed names in the month between going to Sweden and going to the US. I was actually on the bus going to the airport before I realized that it wasn't Ferihegy Airport anymore but Liszt Ferenc International Airport. Then I heard about a number of squares in Budapest which have just changed names. Our main transportation hub the second time we were in Hungary is now Sze'll Ka'lma'n te'r (too lazy to actually put the diacritics in at the moment) rather than Moszkva ter which it had been for the past 60 years. A square somewhere in the 8th district (known as the seedy part of town) is being renamed for Bl. JPII - oh irony. And then, I came across this tomb while visiting the cathedral in Esztergom.

Literally it translates to

Kovacs Mrs. John
Born: Oswald Margaret
(Worth noting that Mr. John was nowhere to be seen)

I know this is common in Hungary... but it bothers me. I'm no angry feminist and I fully intend to take my husband's LAST name when I get married someday, BUT, until the day I die, I will still be Rose. If we're being addressed together (especially for things like mail and such), Mr. and Mrs. Hisname Whatever is fine, but when I'm alone, I'll still have the same first name that I've had my whole life.

Finally, I went to the market yesterday and bought oranges and strawberries from one stall. After asking for what I wanted in what I'm sure was understandable, if probably not perfect, Hungarian, the guy responded to me in English. I HATE when people do that. So, I paid with the biggest bill I had in my wallet knowing how much Hungarians hate having to make change. When I got home, I looked at the strawberries he had sold me and wished that the bill had been much bigger (more annoying for him). Out of a half kilo (just over a pound), the ones on the far right were all that were good after I chopped them up to salvage as much as I could.

So, there you have it.... four mini posts for the price of one. And, while I'm making no definite promises, I hope to post something more about my trip to Esztergom soon.

Absence makes the heart ...

... ache more when you have to say good-bye again?

The past few days have been crazy. Since I'm in the States for my Grandma's funeral, I had the chance to go back to SHU and see so many close friends and mentors. It was wonderful: the chance to celebrate Candice's birthday, spend time with Chris, Kaitlin, Kelly, Sam, Colleen, Brittany, et al., hang out with Caitlyn at "our" house, talk to teachers, sit in on a "Music in Secondary Education" class -- the topic for the day was middle school psychology: I don't think there could have been a more useful topic for me right now, sit in on a choral society rehearsal and then continue a tradition into its fourth year by getting cheesesticks and talking with Candice for hours.

It was such an unexpected gift. And yet, it had a dark side.

The realization of how much I have changed and how much my life has changed since graduation hit me like a ton of bricks. And, at the same time, so many of my friends are still where they were when we were in school together. If not the same mental, emotional, spiritual, or intellectual place then at least the same physical location. We've all grown... in different ways. It's been easy enough to accept that from across the ocean, but being confronted by the fact, in the place where I spent so many hours with these people who are so dear to me was really difficult. I'm happy where I am and there are things that I wouldn't trade just to go back to SHU but it still wasn't easy to see how firmly the door has closed on that chapter of my life.

That wasn't the only difficult part. I had the chance to participate in handbell rehearsal because a few people were absent. Later I went to choral society -- my first "real" choral/vocal anything since MAY. That's almost a year. Additionally, various people asked me where/if I'm singing these days. I hate the answers to those questions. Because, it's easy to ignore how much I'm not singing and how desperately I miss it when I'm not reminded what it's actually like. It's difficult to admit to someone else (particularly those who have been musical mentors to me) that I'm not doing anything with music outside of the little teaching I do. Singing is something my soul needs. And it has been starving for the past (almost) year. This must change. Now, it's just a matter of figuring out how.

Finally, along with missing music, I miss learning. Of course I'm learning much from teaching, but I miss being the receptive student not the constantly active teacher. Yet another reason to start looking at grad schools again.

On a completely unrelated note:
Have a blessed Triduum!

Confusion

Sometimes I wonder where I'm going... and if it's the right direction. Before getting this job offer in the spring, I had no idea what I was going to do. I was rejected from every graduate program I applied for. I wasn't sure how much a part of my life I wanted music to be. I knew I couldn't stay in Greensburg or move back to Steubenville but didn't know where I should go. All types of ideas were floating around in my brain, some more considered than others. Going back to school somewhere else and getting my masters (or a second bachelors) in theology or history was an idea that just didn't fly. Dealing with college freshman again wasn't something I wanted to do nor was paying a ridiculous amount of money for a degree which would be hardly more useful than the Sacred Music and Voice Performance ones I was finishing. I contemplated moving to another city and getting a "crap" job at McDonalds or Walmart while I explored the musical opportunities there. The problem with that option was needing a job before I moved somewhere and not being able to apply to those places long distance. After requesting information and considering, I had two very positive phone interviews with an admissions counselor at a cooking school in Illinois. Their baking and pastry diploma only takes a year and would give me a realistic and reliable career while still incorporating some creativity. In the end, it didn't matter because I got this job teaching in Budapest.

In general, I'm very happy where I am. My job is steady, full time, salaried, in a city I love, and somewhat related to the field I studied. In that regard, I am so much luckier than many (if not most) of my friends. Teaching is getting easier. My co-workers/co-teachers are generally awesome. The kindergarten should be settling down again after a major upheaval. (In a nutshell... one of the other teachers threw a massive fit, insisted she "couldn't work with her co-teacher," and rather than being told to shape up, six of us had our jobs rearranged. The saddest part for me is the fact that my old class now has one girl with her mom as a teacher, one girl with her grandma - the one who threw the fit - as a teacher, and six precious toddlers with no one. I'm not suggesting that the other children will be completely ignored but it's in no way a healthy situation.) I'm readjusting to life in Budapest. My Hungarian is getting better. Today, I even participated in a survey on Guru - a Turo-Rudi offshoot - in Auchan (similar to Walmart). Next Friday, I'll be seeing my first show in Budapest since getting back - Mozart! - at the operetta theater.

What's the problem, then? Sometimes I still don't know if I'm in the right place. I miss singing. It has been a full six months since I sang anything more extensive than Mass or music with the kids. Teaching the older kindergarten kids is something I feel completely unprepared for. Before the mess, I was with the baby group which was great because I had worked with that age group before. Now, with the kids preparing for school, I'm lost. The upper elementary kids are a handful - to put it VERY nicely - as well. It's hard to teach with one of the year 7s lying on the desk and doing everything he can to distract everyone. I'm pretty sure that year 7 doesn't like me after the singing test on Tuesday. Of the four students that I tested (in Hungary, not every student does every test/assignment... it's strange) there was one F, one D, and two C's. Being this far away from my friends and family is hard - especially with Thanksgiving and Christmas getting closer. Fighting the "if only"s can be really difficult some days.