Creative Brain Is Being A Jerk

You know what's annoying?

When you haven't done any substantial amount of choreography for like three weeks and then you put yourself on a guilt trip to catch it all up because you don't have forever but every time you so much as click on the iTunes window you fall asleep, even if it's still five hours before your regular bedtime. And then after several weeks of this nonsense your frustration grows to the point where you're thinking 'why do I even bother putting in all that effort to waking up in the morning with intent to do something with my life if my stupid brain is going to put me to sleep every time I want it to do what it was created to do in the first place?'

I think that must be one of the most annoying things in the world.

I'm starting to wonder if I'm not supposed to ever ever ever choreograph Glory To The King... which makes me sad, because it's a fantastic song which totally screams for jumping and high kicks and jazz hands and general all-round joyful exuberance. (In fact, I'm thinking I'll feature this song for Music Day this week, if I still remember by Friday.)

Justice, Sweet Justice

Do you remember the party I mentioned the other day?
The primary reason nobody responded (I found out later) was because of the annual paintball tournament put on by the church. I had completely forgotten it was this weekend until I'd already sent out invitations to my party.
Oh well, I thought. Even if they come late, they can still come.
So I changed the information in the Facebook event (and made it known to those who aren't on Facebook) to make it clear that if you had to come late, it would be perfectly all right.
Still no one responded, except the youth pastor heading up the paintball event. He and his wife would most definitely be there, he said, but they would be a bit late.
While I appreciated that, it frustrated me quite a bit to know that the youth pastor was willing to take the time to attend, but no one else was. They were going on the same paintball excursion; they would be arriving home on the same bus; for the most part they all live within the same town; yet the youth pastor was willing to come and they weren't.
They didn't say they weren't willing, of course. Those who I asked point-blank said something along the lines of 'I'm so sorry, I really wanted to come but I can't because paintball day is a big tradition for us so yeah...'
No, you don't really want to come. You aren't sorry at all. If you were, you'd come out for at least the second half of the party.
So I simmered, although the sudden availability of two close friends who had previously been unable to come eased the pain a little.
But now, today -- paintball day and party day -- it's raining, twelve degrees (Celsius), windy, and muddy. Less than an hour ago, paintball day was officially canceled.
And all those who thought paintball was more important than one they call their friend (and who even went so far as to lie to that friend) will now spend their afternoon sitting at home refreshing Facebook and/or mindlessly watching crap on YouTube while my real friends and I laugh together and enjoy steak and crisps in my house.
Sweet, sweet justice.

Another Rant

For the past two summers I have attempted to throw parties for varying reasons. Not a lot, usually only one per year. But a party nonetheless.
When I plan a party, it's all about the people. The more the merrier, even though I suffer from a hopeless case of social awkwardness. I love getting people together and listening to them talk and watching how they bounce off each other. Perhaps it's the writer in me, the people-watcher.
Since the object of the party is to get lots of people to congregate in the same general area, I tend to invite everyone who lives within an hour's drive of my house that I have any connection at all with. And I will use any means of communication that I can get my hands on that will get the message to them. If I had the self-confidence to do it, I would buy myself a megaphone and run through the streets at three am when people don't expect noise and are therefore more likely to hear it, yelling 'Barbecue party at Kate's on Saturday! One in the afternoon to eleven pm!' or whatever details are necessary.
But because I don't have the panache to pull that off, I use everything else that's available to me -- Facebook, email, cell phone, home phone, handwritten invitations, you name it, if I have their information for it I'll use it if needed.
Generally I start out with a Facebook event. Those who aren't on Facebook get an email. Those who don't have an email address (yes, those people do still exist) get a handwritten invitation with multiple ways of contacting me dropped by my own hand into their personal mailbox, or, in some cases, given directly to them. This is usually done at least a month and a half before the event is slated to take place, if not a month and a half before the RSVP deadline.
But guess what? It turns out everyone gets an email address, than a Facebook, Twitter, and Skype so they can stay in contact with friends and family (and of course to stalk every available redhead they meet who isn't me).
And then they never check the bloody things!
Do you see how stupid this is? Having a Facebook does nothing for if you don't check it at least once a week. Same goes for your email. And your cell phone. And your answering machine at home. I should not have to come personally to your house, sit you down in front of your calendar at gunpoint and demand to know whether or not you can or will come to the party. That's all I want -- a yes or a no.
I don't care if you say no. I might be a bit disappointed, but at least you had the decency to tell me you wouldn't be able to come instead of never saying anything and making me have to guess.
Because you know what?
It gets darn frustrating when every single person you invite has that exact same reaction. I can't plan to have a good amount of food (which is basically mandatory to all parties) if I have thirty-five freaking wildcards.
If you're not going to check your Facebook or your email and you're not going to reply to texts, voicemails, or handwritten invitations, you might as well go live in a cave because you're too important and self-fulfilled to need any other contact with any other humans and no, you're not allowed to bring your laptop with you because you obviously don't use it anyway no matter how much you say your life is wrapped up in it. If it was, I would have gotten a reply to my email/Facebook invite within a week of my sending it out.

The Attack Of The College Jerk(s)

I've spent the better part of my life being ignored. One can get used to that after a while (albeit a long, long, long while in my case), but what's infuriating is when people can no longer settle for ignoring you and instead start to insult you every second chance they get, ripping out every thread of happiness you've ever had, slowly, methodically, steadily.
As if it couldn't get any worse they spend the other half of their time with you (notice I said 'every second chance' in the preceding paragraph) being quite decent friends. Not bosom buddies or anything of that sort, but fairly open and friendly-like. They probably wouldn't defend you if a robber were to get his hands on you, but they listen and they have no problem conversing with you.
Luckily, most of the worst offenders in my life are now going to college. Even better, all of the worst are going fairly far abroad -- far enough that they only return for Christmas break and then they're too caught up with family things and the few people they've somehow managed to retain as friends to bother looking for me and insulting me.
The problem is, in April they all come back for the summer and stay until September. There's three of them, although two of them seem to have really mellowed out as of late.
The third one, however -- let's call him RJ -- seems to grow more and more irritated with me every time he sees me.
This probably wouldn't bother me so much if I wasn't so close to his mother and younger brother.
I can tell when he's returned from college even before he says anything on Facebook. His mother's whole attitude toward me changes when his return is drawing near. She stops talking to me, gradually distances herself; giving only vague excuses for it that mostly place the blame on her chronic illness.
I realise he's her son and she loves him more than me and wants to spend time with him, but honestly, must our friendship go through this roller coaster based on her son's location? It's not that she and I spend that much time physically together anyway, most of our contact is through e-mail.
Something just occurred to me.
So many people who know both him and me -- and there's quite a few, seeing as we attend the same church -- have said that RJ and I are very, very alike (in personality that is, not appearance). I've seen it too. His mother comments on it almost every time she sees me -- how I remind her of RJ.
So is this it then? Am I just a replacement for RJ while he's gone off to college? When he's here, is that reason enough for her to ignore me because now she has the 'real thing' living in her house again?
Or has RJ 'brainwashed' her (for lack of a better word)? Does he exercise such subliminal power even over his own mother that she has nothing to do with me as per his (possibly unspoken) wishes?
Or am I just a conspiracy theorist?