Semi-stress

Right now in my life I am what I call semi-stressed. I rarely, if ever, get really full on "stressed out". Yes, it is true I am a terrible procrastinator and have very poor time management skills. But I tend to just let things happen when and as they happen and just blame myself for things that don't turn out quite like I wanted.

This week I am semi-stressed. I had a big paper due on Tuesday that I finished ten minutes before class. I haven't slept much or well because I am worried about Song and Skit. Yes, I do have my second interview at the Historical Society this week which is awesome, but I'm MORE stressed out about how my sisters and I will perform a silly routine in front of the Greek community at my school. Let me tell you, it's VERY difficult to get 30 girls to practice. Did I mention I'm in charge of it? I get pseudo-elected to do it every year. I'm 2-1 so far.

I am not caring about my classes, just trying to get my stuff done and on time. This summer is going to be interesting, with (hopefully) an internship and then working at school still. No classes as of yet, but I have to wait and see my degree audit which of course has not been mailed to me yet. There's also the pressing matter of how I'm going to pay for my extra semester(s), since my scholarship does not extend past eight semesters.

But, like I said, I'm still only just semi-stressed.

I know you all really cared about this post.

Here is my short film inspired by Romeo & Juliet for the International Shakespeare Film Festival. I had to cut it down to 3 minutes for submission but I like this version way better.

The Ballad of Willie

The following story is completely and 100% true, although I realize that it sounds like I made it up. I promise, I didn't.

The Ballad of Willie

Once upon a time, two girls lived in a quaint house in a quaint town in a state which currently has a deplorable economy. One day, these two sisters (Janelle and Nicole) were at their aunt's house when, atop their aunt's Cadillac, they spied a beautiful bird. Said bird was definitely not a native of their suburban Detroit town; it was yellow, gray and white with orange spots on its cheeks. When a hand was extended to the bird, it hopped on gladly. The general consensus was that this was someone's pet.

The whole house set to work. A neighbor had a cage which was acquired. The bird was put into the cage and then a plan of action was set; Aunt Carol would place an ad in the paper for a lost bird, and upon tearful begging of Janelle and Nicole, their parents allowed the bird to have a temporary haven at their household.

Janelle and Nicole agreed to name the bird Lily while she resided at their household. The following week, the ad was placed in the paper. One cousin had identified the bird as a cockatiel, and the family was abhorred to realize that Aunt Carol had placed a "lost ad" for a cockapoo, which is in fact a dog. So Lily was never claimed. Reluctantly, Janelle and Nicole's parents allowed them to keep the bird as a pet.

There were numerous problems with this arrangement. First, Janelle and Nicole owned a beautiful tabby cat named Smokey, who made it his life's goal to stalk Lily and try to kill her. In consequence, Lily could only be let out once in a while when Smokey was locked in the basement. When Lily was let out, she pooped all over the living room and kitchen, making the family resent her existence.

Upon consultation with a bird expert, it was determined, after about 6 months, that Lily was in fact a male. Janelle and Nicole, trying to minimize the gender confusion that was sure to occur, selected the name of Willie for their new male bird.

Willie had some wonderful years in that house. He was a vicious bird who would peck at anyone who stuck their hand into his cage, so in order to hold him the sisters had to wear protective gloves which were usually just mittens and long-sleeved shirts. But he had a kind soul somewhere inside. Once in awhile he would affectionately land on one of the sisters' heads and leave a little surprise.

Willie's blissful life ended one fateful day. Janelle and Nicole walked home from elementary school to find their father passed out on the couch. This was not an unusual occurrence; what was unusual, however, is that Willie was not screeching unapologetically. Nicole sauntered over to the cage and saw that Willie was lying on the bottom of it.

"WILLIE!" Nicole screamed.

Janelle walked over to the cage and, being infinitely wise, said in a solemn tone, "Nicole, I do believe this bird has passed on."

The sisters were frantic. Janelle proceeded to shake her father to wake him up. His glazed eyes clearly said, "I did not know your bird was dead," but Janelle said:

"Daddy, I think Willie is dead."

Nicole wailed. The father, clearly at a loss, said, "Okay."

The father stumbled over to Willie's cage. Upon observing the dead bird, he formed a plan of action. Wrapping the bird in a shroud consisting of a paper towel, he marched out to the backyard and gave the noble creature a splendid burial in his daughter's sand box.

When the mother arrived home from work, she found her daughters distraught and her husband in bed already. Upon finding out that their beloved Willie had been buried in their sand box, she decided to excavate his remains and give him a proper burial.

Janelle, who at the time was interested in a career in paleontology, begged her mother to give Willie a few hundred years in the sand so she could one day uncover his remains. Deciding this was unwise, she un-buried the poor bird and dug a grave in the corner of the yard. Willie received a proper bird burial in a green MaryKate and Ashley pencil box belonging to Nicole.

Thus ends Willie's tumultuous life. Though we don't know what happened to him previous to this story, we hope that on the whole he led a satisfying, phoenix-worthy life.