bitches ain’t shit

December 13, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today in biology I cut a fetal pig’s heart clean in half and felt absolutely nothing. Could the symbolism be any more transparent?

Alright Heather, cut the melodrama.

Playing the beautiful loving character that is Hope Cladwell all fall opened my eyes, I think I may be a bitch. At a young age I prided myself on my altruistic personality, now I wonder where that compassion has escaped to. I look at the small handful of people I’ve lost due to my over competitive attitude, low tolerance, and fear of commitment. I see faces that I’m glad have nothing to do with me anymore, and one face that I wish I could make look me in the eyes again.

I think about who I was exactly one year ago. I think about the guy who was supposed to remain my best friend for the rest of my life, the same guy who I can’t even say hello to in class. While I hesitate to throw out the term “used,” I never though I’d be the one taking advantage. I fear heading down the same path again.

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Haters Gonna Hate, Potatoes gonna Potate.

November 28, 2012 § 1 Comment

To begin, I’d like to apologize for dropping off the face off wordpress for the last couple of months. The show consumed nearly all of my time, and any free second that it forgot was immediately snatched up by homework. Needless to say, I was pretty swamped.

However, eight packed weeks of nonstop work paid off more than I ever expected. While tackling my part was nerve wracking, frustrating, and very uncomfortable at times, the gratification I received at the end of the process was nothing short of glorious. For that one week of shows, I was a celebrity. Showered in waves of compliments, I had never felt more appreciated.

The celebration came to an abrupt halt when some very startling news met me at school on Monday morning. I was told that a cruel article, relentlessly bashing the show and actors, had been passed out during our Friday night show. As if  from a scene from some crappy teen film, a black hooded mystery person had sneaked in to the auditorium during intermission and threw these papers in to the audience with no remorse. Upon discovery, the papers were collected before any company members had a chance to see them. A destructively curious side of me longed to read the article, while another part of me knew I did not want to see what it said. I am sure you can guess which half ultimately had it’s way.

When I returned home from striking the set on Monday I was sent a link that lead to the article on facebook. Upon reading it, I was devastated. The author acknowledged the quality of my singing, but immediately proceed to say that a different actress deserved the part more.

Oh, the anger.

Rage bubbled up inside of me like a tea kettle on the verge of a boil. I wanted to slam doors, punch walls, and most of all, find this “ghost writer” and give them “a fucking piece of my fucking mind.” I could not believe what I had read. All my hard work put to shame by some faceless stranger behind a screen. For a brief second, the whole show was ruined, soiled by one negative review.

Then, closure.

It is absurd to assume that everyone would like my performance, or even the show. Where there is glory, there is also criticism. While the negative comments hurt, they show me where I have gotten in these past three years of high school drama.  Once a freshman face that no one recognized or knew, I have become a face that inspires these younger students. I have become a face that receives compliments and recognition, but along with this success comes the pain of being disliked. While it may kill in the moment, I have learned to embrace this hatred, because at the end of the day I still have the success that no one can deprive me of.

 

Hey Romney, put a sock in it.

September 27, 2012 § 1 Comment

“The district that spent the most per pupil and had the smallest classrooms, Cambridge, those kids were in the bottom 10 percent.”

Not only is the above statement insulting, but it is also false. As a proud, eleventh year Cambridge public school student, I was appalled when I read what Romney said on Tuesday. I’ll let the statistics vouch for my school district’s success http://www.bostonmagazine.com/best-schools-in-boston/index.html.

So I begin to wonder, where exactly is the republican presidential candidate getting his information? MCAS  scores perhaps? I did a quick google search (thank goodness for technology) to see what I could find, and it certainly was not parallel with what Romney is claiming.

Ranked 244th out of 350 in tenth grade English does not sound like the bottom 10% to me, and neither does 154th out of 351 in tenth grade math. I looked at several other 2010 MCAS rankings and while Cambridge never makes the top 10%, we certainly are not at the bottom. Mitt Romney’s comment is rooted in a complete lie. He also neglected to mention Cambridge’s incredibly diverse population. It is difficult to take an English MCAS exam if English is not your first language.

I find it pretty concerning that Romney blatantly lied and has not been called out on it, as someone who’s entire education has been provided by the city of Cambridge it is also insulting to have my entire education slandered.

Can I get a drum roll please?

September 23, 2012 § 1 Comment

…and after a nail biting two days, the cast list has been posted. I’m glad that I can say it only generated great news!

I am officially the luckiest girl, and will be playing the lead role of Hope Cladwell in “Urinetown” this fall! Yes, the show’s title is off putting but even that can’t dampen my spirits.

Thursday was stressful, Friday was painful. Just thinking about the mystery surrounding the cast list was enough to send a metaphysical knife sailing into my gut. Checking the clock every five minutes grew more difficult with each passing interval, but somehow I made it to the last ten minutes of the day. Then I had to face the walk. The typical thirty second commute from the chorus classroom to the location of the cast list stretched for miles and ended abruptly at a dense crowd of people. I couldn’t look, but I had to. The next two months of my life depended on that sheet of paper.

Hope Cladwell…followed by my name. Could it be true? I still don’t completely believe it.

Glorious moments such as these are the reason I do theatre. Granted, they only come after my lowest moments. Being cut from the musical my freshman year was devastating to say the least, being rejected from the Christmas revels chorus hurt as well, and not making the winter play was a huge disappointment.  With each cut and insignificantly small role my frustration only grew further. My dad would comfort me by saying my time would come, that eventually people would recognize me. He told me to stick to it and I could only move up.

Dedication and patience can only pay off.  I know that I’ll face waves of brutal rejection in the future, but for now I am going to bask in the light.

“You’re doing the mature thing”

September 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

The thing about always taking the high road is that is gets pretty lonely up here.

I know walking the mature path is whats supposed to benefit you in the long run, but where on earth has it lead me?

I know the sayings:

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

Two wrongs don’t make a right!

Don’t fight fire with fire.

They forget to mention that if you don’t whip out your fire, you get walked all over. So there are my options: create a bigger problem, or take the passive approach and become a human punching bag.

It’s been a rough couple of days. Somewhere along the line I was unfairly designated a good friend’s scapegoat and received an unnecessary amount of cruelty for a situation that I was not a part of. Granted, I knew about it, but I was stuck between friends in a thick pool of secrets. What a classic “don’t tell her I told you but…” situation.

I was just an innocent spectator on the sidelines. I didn’t even want to be there but I was dragged on to that field without realizing, and from there conflict was inevitable.

I had two  obligations:

1. Keep a good friends secret

2. Tell another good friend that secret, as it was in her best interest to know.

So basically, there was no way to win, so I transformed into the human punching bag when friend #2 heard what had happened. And I sat there and took her blows, biting my tongue.

So here I am, sitting up on the high road, feet dangling in all of this empty space. I could jump, in fact  I’d love to jump and sink to everyone else’s level. I’m tempted, all of this translucent air is taunting me. What would it be like to not do that mature thing for once? How would it feel to let all my real feelings lose?

Everyone else seems allowed to make stupid decisions, maybe it’s my turn to take a stab at it.

 

 

Recap

August 31, 2012 § Leave a comment

Spontaneity.

Nearly one year ago, I began Sophomore year with this word in mind. It was time to break lose, roll with the punches, and stop meticulously planning every second of my life.

I look back on the last 12 months with many regrets, but the satisfaction of doing things I thought I never would.

I think about Heather from a year ago, and then look at who I am now. Appearance wise, I haven’t changed. Experience wise, I have grown more than ever before (despite the fact that my height hasn’t changed an inch). I’ve make breakthroughs, and I’ve made mistakes. I’ve gained best friends, and I’ve lost them too.

A big theme this year has been bravery. From a young age I’ve been incredibly timid, and it does not do me justice. This year I decided to take some leaps of faith (metaphorically and literally).

The first thing confidence got me was a lead in the school musical. At callbacks, I held nothing back. I shrieked and stomped my way into the role of Amber. Sometimes, you just have to let lose and go for it.

I rode a roller coaster for the first time, jumped of a bridge, and finally pierced my cartilage.

Unfortunately, brave spontaneity is a double edged sword. While I look back on some moments as my best, I’ve certainly lived some of my worst. Lesson learned: don’t make out with your ex, especially at a dance. Some creepy freshman will take a picture, and it will end up on Facebook (thankfully it was removed after only 1 day). Sometimes thinking “fuck it, I can deal with the aftereffects later” is a bigger compromise than you think.

So, was it worth it? Do the successes outweigh the mistakes? For now, I’m going to say yes. What are dumb decisions if we don’t learn from them anyway? I’d encourage everyone to do a few stupid things, because sometimes they’ll create your best memories…or at least make for a good story.

The Dismount

August 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

I’m back in Cambridge, and couldn’t have received a warmer welcome!  I guess I can finally cross “jump off a bridge” off my bucket list.

I cannot find the words to describe the free fall. It was the shortest and longest five seconds of my life, ending abruptly with the stinging sensation that traveled through my thighs and back due to my ungraceful dismount.

I should have begun by clarifying that I am not afraid of heights. I am terrified of drops however. It took me sixteen years to ride my first roller coaster because the steep drop in the beginning was enough to send me running in the opposite direction.

Here’s the trick: It’s all in the build up. The clicking of your cart as it slowly approaches the decent. Standing on the edge of the cement ledge staring in to the  reflective Charles River water.

Then, the release. The whoosh as the cart reaches the tipping point. The scream that followed the out-of-the-ordinary burst of courage that sent me flying off of the Harvard foot bridge.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to summon that kind of courage again, but maybe it only takes closing your eyes and counting to three.

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