What Am I Doing With My Life?

So, I was just checking my e-mail when I saw a story about a 13-year-old fashion blogger named Tavi Gevinson. She went to Fashion Week in NYC. She was welcomed with open arms by pretty much all of the designers. She went to parties. She mingled. Go read her blog. It's actually really amusing. I have no clue about any of the fashion stuff; I admit I don't "get" it. In fact, I think most fashion looks like a dare. A triple-dog dar. To look like a fool. Eh, to each his own. Anyway, so she writes this blog, gets Christmas gifts from famous designs, and she's 13. Did I mention this already? She's also writing a blog for Pop magazine. 13.

What the hell am I doing with my life? Or my blog. I suck. *shakes head*

Speaking of sucking, did I tell you that I ordered TruBlood? You know, the nutritious Japanese blood substitute designed to sustain vampires so they no longer have to feed on humans, and can therefore "mainstream" into society? Yeah, I ordered that. I just finished my first bottle today. It was very, very delicious. Kind of like liquid Sweet Tarts or Smarties. Mmm, I love me some Smarties. Who knew vampires could be sustained with pure sugar. Not really. But yes, yum.

I just love the packaging that it came in. The bottles are fatter than regular beer or soda bottles. It has a "thick" feel, which I think is a nice touch. They look just like the bottles they use on the show as props for our favorite vamps. I especially love the cardboard carrier that they came in.
The attention to detail is superb. Check out the heartrate lines.

I have one bottle left (my friend and I went halfsies, so she took the other two). I'm going to have to conserve... And totally keeping these bottles as souveniers. I love owning a piece of this show :)

The Dream Didn't Come True!

I really just freaked myself out. I make a point to record most of my dreams in a journal. Or, at least, I try to record the poignant ones... or at least the ones that I remember. Okay, so sometimes I'm not very good at it, but I try. But the point is that dreams are very important to me, and I think that they can help us make sense of our days, of our thoughts. And maybe even sometimes they can tell us the future.

This has happened to me a few times, though it's never spot on. I think I've probably written about this here before, but whatever. I once had a dream that a friend was in a car accident near my high school -- turns out there was an accident there. He wasn't in it, but he was the one I heard it from. I once had a dream that my friend's grandmother died -- turns out she didn't. Another girl we went to school with lost her grandmother (and mother and little brother... horrible accident), but my friend was the one who told me about the grandmother (and mother and little brother). I once had a dream that another friend's car exploded-- apparently a few days later, it was stolen. The day before high school graduation rehearsal, I had a dream that this one kid was wearing a bright orange graduation gown, when no one else was -- the day of the rehearsal, he was wearing a bright orange t-shirt... I could list more...

So whenever I have a remotely ominous dream, I'm immediately thrown into panic mode. I'm so worried, I become physically distressed over the dream. They ruin my day sometimes. So, it's really no wonder I became so upset over the dream I had last November regarding one of my favorite musicians, Xxxx Xxxxxx*.

Now, I don't make a habit of dreaming about him, so when one does come along, I pay attention. This dream, was about him, though the underlying issue in the dream was about his wife. I don't necessarily feel comfortable writing about her as I've never met her, but it's for the sake of conveying the weirdo shit that's been going down in my Dreamland. In my dream (that I had on the night of 11/1/08), she was pregnant but had a miscarriage. I can't remember if I had actually heard in real life that she was pregnant again or not. I'm thinking no, but I can't be sure. So in the dream, she lost the baby. And Xxxx was upset. Like VERY upset. He was crying and in a really horrible state. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn't. He couldn't be consoled. I felt so bad for him, I wanted to cry. I woke up distraught. It ruined my mood for a long time that day. I prayed to God that if she was pregnant, I was dead wrong.

So I kind of forgot about that dream, until I had a few more unsettling dreams about Xxxx Xxxxxx. I won't go into detail here as I don't really remember them. One involved a car accident (also VERY upsetting), another involving arrest for possession (haha), and another more personal one about him brushing me off when I saw him at a show. Haha, that was upsetting for different reasons. But because I try not to take much stock in these kinds of dreams, willing them to not be true, I didn't think about them much, and I had almost forgotten about the original dream.

But then I logged onto Facebook today. Holy shit, his wife had a baby a couple weeks ago! Yay! Oh, she's so cute! Congrats!! (She is adorable by the way. Aww!). Suddenly I remember the dream I had almost a year ago. I think, oh wow it was almost a year ago. maybe the dream was correct. holy crap that's really scary!. But then I actually went to a calendar to do the math. If the baby was born in August, can anyone tell me what month was 9 months ago? Yeah. November. The dream was a little over 9 months before the baby was born, so I have no idea what that was about. Wouldn't it be weird if I was channeling someone else's fears? But still, seriously. Holy crap.

*I originally wrote his name, but thought better of it. This dream was really weird and disturbing, so I figured it's probably best if I don't reveal real names. For whatever reason. Yeah.

I Bleed True Blood

Wow, it's been 16 days since I had that dream. It feels like so much longer ago. Whatever it meant, I guess it's either not come true (which I good, I guess), or I'm not listening to it (which could be bad). I mean, nothing has changed. So I guess I'm in this sort of stasis, balancing delicately between potentially bad and potentially good. I guess it's an alright place to be until a mind (any mind) is made up.

That said, let's change topics. I have become ridiculously obsessed with HBO's True Blood. It's a sickness. I'm pretty sure I now eat, sleep, breathe and even bathe in True Blood. That sounds gross, but it's an effective metaphor. I'm not sure what it is, the "real" characters, the passion, the vampires, the actors. Something about it is drawing me to it like a moth to light. The pull was pretty bad last season when it first aired. That's when it first became my drug of choice. I would take my first hit on Sunday at 9pm, then another at 12am, then at least one a day until the next new episode on the next Sunday. But that was the extent of my addiction last year. I waited eagerly for each new episode and once it was presented to me, devoured it heartily. But that was it.

Season 2 is a whole new monster, though. Before it even started, I decided (whether good or bad) to read all the books on which the characters and show are based. The first season was based on the first book in the series, the second season on the second. Presumably the third season will be based on the third book, but we'll have to wait for that. But I decided that I would allow myself to get ahead of my drug, and just read all of the books. I read 9 books in about 25ish days. I can't remember the exact count. That is incredibly fast for me. I was chowing down a book in 1-3 days each. I read one and I needed to know what happened. This need pushed me through each book, desperate for the next literary fix. I suppose this was my fatal flaw: the need. Because once all 9 books had been put away, I had nothing.

Or did I? I actually finished reading the books after the second season started, if memory serves (it was, after all, 11 weeks ago. I'm allowed to be hazy). Something was different this year though, once the show started. I had just moved to a new apartment about 2 weeks before the start of the season. After making sure we had HBO, I invested in an DVR. Let me tell you, this is a God-send. I don't know how I existed before my DVR. Now I was able to record my drug and watch later if I wasn't able to watch it in real-time. But the DVR also just contributed to the sickness. Instead of having to catch the episodes on linear airings on the various incarnations of HBO, now I had True Blood at my fingertips. All I had to do was hit that DVR button. And so, I watched on Sunday, at least once on Monday (more if I caught a linear airing), once on Tuesday (more if I caught a linear airing), once on Wednesday (more if I caught a linear airing)... I think you get the picture. So now, suddenly, I'm devouring my drug in a much heavier dose.

Any minute I expect to overdose, but the monster just keeps growing. I can't get enough. And its effects are getting much stronger. Last year, I could sit comfortably on my couch, watching and emoting silently. This year, a few episodes have affected me to the point of much louder emoting and even physical reactions. A few times I have taken to spending the hour standing in front of the TV, too anxious to sit. One of those times, the episode even brought me to my knees, tears welling in my eyes (seconds before one of the characters fell to his knees, tears running down his face, I might add haha). It has become a part of me. I've even pre-ordered the soon-to-be-released TruBlood beverage -- the nutritious synthetic blood developed by Japanese scientists that can be consumed by vampires to satiate their thirst and biological needs. Of course mine will just be a blood-red orange flavored soda, but it's just a more physical way for it to become part of me, for me to own it.

But what I can't figure out is why? Why has this become so special for me? Why do I devote so much time, effort, and soon, money to this work of fiction? What about it affects me so strongly, to the core, that makes me behave this way? Is it the show itself? Or is it something about me? Or both? Maybe I'm drawn to it because I see so much of myself in the characters. Maybe, deep down, each and everyone of them is me. Do I actually live in Bon Temps?

(to be continued...)

(maybe...)

Epic Dream: A Metaphor for Spiritual Healing?

I had a really weird dream last night. I don't usually share my dreams here, electing to record my nighttime journeys in a journal, usually only for me to read, but the one I had last night seemed oddly worth sharing. Maybe because I have no clue what it could mean. The imagery, too, was shocking, and its implied metaphors have actually got me a little scared. Scared of what? Of God? Of healing? I'm not sure, because I'm not sure how that would apply to me. Maybe one of you can help.

The details of the dream are pretty muddled. Not sure how it started or what was going on. I was walking through some town, which I guess was South Orange, but instead looked more like a medieval European town that I am not familiar with. I was walking along. There were other people out on the sidewalks. I ducked down an alley to go another way. I think I must have been on my way to a bar. This seems to be the general feeling of the beginning of the dream. Then suddenly I am with 3 other people, all of whom are girls that I know in the dream, but now, upon waking, have no clue as to their identities. So we are walking behind this beautiful stone building. Turns out it is a private (Catholic?) school. It is built upon a lush, rolling green hill. This hill has scattered mini brick walls throughout. We are trying to make it up this hill, over and around these brick walls to make it to the street on the other side. Now, we know we are not supposed to be here; we are trespassing. But still we continue up and over these walls and the hill to get to our destination.

Then, suddenly lights are flashing and a siren screams. We've been spotted. Two of the girls are farther up the hill than I and the other girl had made it. They scramble to the top. We can't make it, however, because these mini walls are growing taller and taller, blocking us in, making it impossible to go over or around. So we turn back down the hill. There are walls growing there, but they are easier to bound over. The hill slopes sharply down, ending abruptly into a river some feet below us. Across the river, close, but too far to jump, is another piece of land. If only we can get over there! We scramble down the hill toward that piece of land. I am more concerned with getting myself there, but I never lose the feeling of this other girl being near me, trying to save herself as well. Then suddenly a piece of rock juts out from our side of the hill, out across the river, to connect with the other piece of land. This rock turns into a slide. Though frightened, I set my jaw, and re-determine myself to get to the other side. I let myself go and I slide.

I'm on the other side! I made it. The other girl is with me too. So, we're running along the green land, trying to find a way back to where we had come, but a giant stone wall, part of the school's facade perhaps, is standing in our way. From where we are on this little island, there is no way back. We are looking for a way out when suddently I find a tower, a castle turret, it seems. I fling open the door and pour myself inside onto the stone steps leading up, up, up. I begin to climb. The tower just keeps going up. Up and around, a spiral staircase hugging the walls of the cold, beige stone tower. I keep going up. There are little slit windows. I look out one, but I can't remember what I see. Suddenly, the stairs change direction. Instead of climbing the stairs with the wall to my right, suddenly the wall is to my left, but I am still climbing up, up, up.

Then, finally, I reach the top. There is a little wooden door. I open it, and beyond I see only blue sky and clouds. This is Heaven. God is out there, I know it. I turn to speak to the girl who had followed me up. "This is it," I said. "This is the way out. We have to jump." Up so high where nothing can be seen below, I peer out into the open blueness of "Heaven." Initially scared, I take a deep breath. Then, just like before, I let myself go, and I dive head-first out of the tower.

Now I'm falling, falling, falling. The clouds, the blue sky, all zooming past me, and yet I'm not scared, nor am I falling all that fast. In fact, it's more like I'm floating down softly, down to where I will be safe. Suddenly there are two more people by my side. One is a man and one is a woman, but I have no idea who they are. I'm still floating, but I'm no longer in the sky. I'm floating above my bed, my room lit dully with the gray of a barely waking sun. Then they are gone, and I am safe in my bed. In my dream, I am in my bed, and I am awake and safe.

I'm not really awake. I'm just "conscious" of the fact that I am awake in my dream. I sit up (and this is where the whole ooh Godly metaphor becomes completely ridiculous), and reach for my drink on the side table. It is a lime-flavored Zima (what?!?). I can taste it. It's fizzy and citrusy. Someone says something to me about it, but I don't know who it was or where they came from. I don't even see them. I laugh. And then suddenly I'm making out with someone, but I don't know who that was either. Josh Rouse? That doesn't feel right, but I think it kind of looked like him. Can't be sure. And then I woke up. For real this time.

I laughed at the Zima and the making out. But it wasn't until a few hours later that I suddenly got a flash of falling out of the God-Tower. What is that about? I'm in awe, and a little frightened. There was such a feeling of peace, immediately after my flash of fear. Almost like God telling me, it'll be okay. "Whatever it is you're scared of, let go. It will be okay..."

If only I knew what He was talking about...

Summing Up

Damn! I'm getting bad at this again :(

I know I still haven't posted the pictures of my fun times out on July 17th. I'll get around to it eventually, haha. Believe me, it was really cool and dorky, and maybe a little creepy, but I wasn't there alone, so who am I to judge?

I finally finished Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It lost me a little in the middle but had a really cute ending. I want to read the others, but for some reason they're always hard to track down from the library. Probably because they're technically children's books, and we all know how children treat books (though, honestly, I didn't treat books poorly when I was little. I treated them like prizes, still do, which is probably why my stuff is always in good condition. Plus, I still do the Pineville Tuck, haha). Oh well. In high contrast, I think I might start reading Atlas Shrugged soon. It's supposed to be enlightening and earth-moving/shattering and inspiring and all that crap. I figured I'll be an adult and give it a go. But at 1,000+ pages... we'll have to see, haha. What I really want to read is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies haha. It seems really clever and funny. We'll see.

Oh! I also bought a new guitar on Friday. My old one was falling apart, and I was afraid to play him. The bridge was lifting, which for you non guitar-speakers, means that the wooden part that holds the strings on to the body of the guitar is starting to give way to the 300+ lbs of pressure exerted by the strings. It gives way all the way, and it'll rip off of the guitar with the force of... well... with a lot of force. I was starting to fear being smack in the face with the spring-action of the broken bridge, so I decided to go ahead and make a new investment. My new guitar is pretty. He's a vintage sunburst Epiphone PR150. I'll show you pics of that too :)

Otherwise, not much is up. I've been really into Hopes and Fears by the band Keane. If you don't know them, check them out. That album is awesome :)

That's all for now!
christina

9 Days And Nothin' To Show For It... Well Almost Nothing... :)

Okay, I'm way overdue for a post here. Not sure what was standing in my way last week. I think at some point I had planned a post about "Thriller," and how I had a hard time understanding the lyrics, but I killed that one before it could be published. Figured it was only amusing to me, haha. As are many of my posts, but that's a story for a different day/therapist.

Over the past 9 days, not a lot has happened in the World of Christina. Let's see. I got a new car, Lafayette, that I told you about last time. He's being pretty cool to me, though occasionally making a gurgling noise, which is probably due to the fact that I accidentally put too much coolant in him. Whoops. But besides that he's cool. Still occasionally amazes me at how much natural bass his sound system has. Bass is at 0, and I still get the whomp whomp whomp sometimes, hahaha.

I've taken up reading the Harry Potter books again. I started a few summers ago, but only got through the first two since I couldn't find the third one at any of the Public Libraries of Charlotte-Mecklenburg County. Right now I'm about halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It's pretty good despite the fact that it's my least favorite of the movies to-date. Hah. Kind of want to see the 6th movie, but at the same time, I want to have been able to read it before I watch it so I can compare that way. Though, I suppose if I like the movie, then the book won't be a disappointment, but whatever. Right now my plan is to just work through the books. We'll see what happens.

The only other interesting thing that I did was on Friday the 17th. What is it you ask? Well, you'll have to tune in next time since it will probably involve pictures and lots of pre-teen-esque squealing, and I don't have the time for it right now, haha.

Until next time!

P.S. - the spell check just suggested "Azerbaijan" for "Azkaban." That could work too, haha.

Fiction Fest '09: An Update

I'm a little disappointed with myself. The whole work of fiction I was trying to plan? Yeah, haven't done anything else with that. Haven't done any more planning or plotting. In fact, I think I had kind of forgotten about it until I saw a book about Jeff Buckley at the bookstore Friday. I should really get back on that.

Or I should at least keep up with the other piece of fiction I've been working on for the past, probably, 6 or 7 years. That one isn't even halfway done. I really need to get on it! Especially if I'm ever going to get published, haha. I haven't written in so long, I know I'm going to have a hard time getting back into the narrative. But then, it's my story, my writing. Hopefully I'll be able to pick it up quickly :). And maybe I'll drag my butt to the library for a healthy change of scenery. Maybe I can get something substantial done... like I used to. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.

In other news: My car Paolo was starting to go. It was injury after injury. I was pouring more money into it than it was worth. Most recently, after shelling out $200 to change his transmission and cooling fluid, ol' Paolo decided to blow a hole through one of the pipes in the exhaust system. You know, after I spend nearly $300 giving him a new muffler. So there I was, AGAIN, puttering down the road. It was only a matter of time before the pipe rusted all the way through and fell off. It still hasn't, but who knows how big that 50 cent piece-sized hole is now.

So, I decided Paolo and I had a good run, but we had to go our separate ways. So now I have Lafayette (name subject to change upon discovery of a better one). He's a Nissan Sentra too, but he's only 4 years old as opposed to 18. He's a metallic gray-silver-gold combination. Very sexy. And he's got power everything. Windows, locks, mirror adjusters. Built in CD player and auxiliary jack. He's pretty awesome. I'm sure we'll become fast friends :).

4th of July Weekend, Part II

Oh, and just in case you're interested, here's the Macy's Fireworks Finale (it was pretty awesome. Sidenote: New Yorkers/New Jerseyans really love their fireworks!):

4th of July Weekend

So, crazy weekend, and crazy first few days of the week apparently have kept from from blogging for 6 days. Which is kind of a lot as of late. But is relatively good considering my run. But whatever.

So this weekend saw the 4th of July, which means that I saw fireworks. Twice. Is it just me, or is it weird for a town to have its annual July 4th fireworks show on July 3rd? Either way, went to that one in Red Bank, NJ. Then on Saturday, I saw the Macy's 4th of July Fireworks Extravaganza or whever it's called in NYC. That was pretty cool I guess. If you could look past the fact that they had us standing on the West Side Highway behind a line of trees ubstructing the view of the fireworks. The most amusing part, however, was probably the way back to midtown from the West Side. I dont' know if I've ever seen so many people walking to the same place. There had to be thousands and thousands of people, which is pretty cool.

I tried to take some video, but it came out kind of dark. It's of the sea of people walking behind me up 34th Street. Don't know if you can see anything...



It was pretty crazy. It probably took us like 40 minutes to get to Times Square, which is ridiculous considering we only had to walk 8 blocks up and 4 blocks over. There were entirely too many people. But, you know what. I kind of loved it. We didn't get to do much else as we had to book it back to the train station, but it was good times.

Man, I didn't realize how much I missed NYC until I hadn't been in it for a while, and then went two Saturdays in a row! I need to make another appointment to go in. :)

Questioning the Classics

So, I was flipping through channels yesterday and found the 1940 version of Pride and Prejudice, starring Laurence Olivier. So, naturally, because I love Laurence Olivier, I stopped and watched the rest of the movie, which was most of it because I turned it on when they were at the dance when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy first talk to each other.

Now, I don't know much about Hollywood politics, especially back then when they seem to have been so... corrupt, but I started to wonder about them as I watched this movie. From what I understand, having never read Pride and Prejudice, Darcy is kind of a snot and a jerk, and generally a man to be avoided. Elizabeth finds him arrogant and snobbish, and she wants nothing to do with him. It is fate, however, that seems to keep bringing them together. And the more it does this, the more they tolerate each others' presence, though Darcy is never really a warm-hearted man. But in the end, Elizabeth with her devil-may-care (for 1800s society, anyway) attitude, her combination of grace, wit, control and pluck wins Mr. Darcy over, and they fall madly in love. This is what I've gathered from the, oh, 3 other versions of this story that I've seen haha.

Anyway, I didn't get any of this from the 1940 version. Is it because back then they didn't want their movies to have too dark of themes? Could the heroine not struggle for love? Well, that's a lie; just look at Wuthering Heights from 1939 (also, starring Laurence Olivier!). But then again... that version of Wuthering Heights made Heathcliff look like a sympathetic character. To an extent, he was, but he was a very power-hungry man. Once he had the wealth and fortune, he turned and treated Hindley's son like crap, the way he had been treated by Hindley when they were growing up. However, in Olivier's version, Heathcliff is a love-struck young man, who is determined to better his station in life to win the affections of the cold-hearted, but somehow lovable Catherine. And, also, it completely leaves out the second part of the book... when everyone is all grown up or dead, and now their children play out their story in an eerily similar fashion. I loved that about the book. However, not in the 1939 movie.

But why? I suppose it might have something to do with that era's movies not being that long, and thus not having enough allotted celluloid to record that part of the story. Or maybe Laurence Olivier was so damn dashing that they didn't want to make him unsympathetic, or a creep. Maybe they wanted to make him romantic (which they succeeded in doing). So then, that just makes me wonder, how different are our understanding of the classics than our grandparents? Or even parents? Well... if we went solely by movies. I guess our grandparents probably read them. But in a cinematic sense, we know the true story, while they got the sugar-coated one. No wonder our world is so much different than theirs was.

But back to the original, Olivier made Darcy seem like such a sweetheart. I couldn't figure out why Elizabeth was avoiding him. Yes, I suppose I might have been just blinded by the light that was Larry Olivier, and fell for him the way we all fall for the really good looking bad boys.... But still. Why was Hollywood so scared to make Mr. Darcy (or Heathcliff, for that matter), the scary dudes that more recent depictions make him out to be?

Does anyone know? Makes me want to research old Hollywood. Or at least watch more Laurence Olivier movies... :)

Weekend Warriors

I think it's funny that I don't ever update this thing over the weekend, you know, when I actually have time to be buggering off. That's right I said "buggering." Instead, I do it while I'm at work, in my little moments of downtime. Which is good because it's a way to pass the time while I'm waiting for people to answer my questions. *sigh*

I decided recently (again), that I want to be famous. I want to walk down the street and get stopped by someone with wide eyes and stuttering speech: "Hey, aren't you...?" That'd be pretty sweet. Problem is, I haven't figured out what I'm going to be famous for. I guess I have a lot of things to ponder.

Meanwhile, here's something that I just reminded myself of. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiuysqDjhzE Whew! For a second there, I thought someone was going to be reading our eugoogally. (P.S. - the blond guy cracks me up).

Anyway, this weekend was my friend's birthday, so we went out to Hoboken. We went to this little joint called Bahama Mama's, which I thought was a bar, but ended up being more of a club. At least, they played club music. There's a place down the street called the Whiskey Bar that sometimes has live music, and mostly plays rock. That's a bar. What we went to, with the dance beats and Michael Jackson medley, was a club. That's usually not my scene, but Friday, I had fun. Like a lot of fun. 3 shots worth of fun, haha. And we danced a little. Or at least, I did my version of dancing. A creepy guy scoped me out, and another creepy guy tried to dance with me. I didn't see him as he chose to go for a surprise, rear attack. But I can just imagine my face when I felt those hands on my hips. Yikes. Luckily my other friend saved me. We had to do a lot of that: dancing with each other and pulling each other away from creepy guys. It's one thing to get hit on, it's an entirely different banana to be hit on by creepy men. *shudder*. But it was fun, haha

On Saturday, I went to the city. We went in for a little light stalking, but our object of affection was not to be found. Not that we looked real hard, but whatever. He wasn't in the one spot we looked (though neither of us actually had evidence that he would be there, haha). So instead, we went to Barnes & Noble, where I bought this really hilarious book. I haven't bought a book in a while, so I figured I was justified in spending the $13.99. It's called Stupid and Contagious by Caprice Crane. It's really funny and snarky. I can identify with both of the main characters (1 guy, 1 girl), and they are just so sarcastic and fun. I haven't gotten to read much, but so far the gist is: Girl loses her dream job and has to get a job at a restaurant with snooty clientele. Boy breaks up with his girlfriend and has to find a new apartment. The apartment he finds is right next to Girl's. They annoy each other, and yet they seem to keep coming back for more. Girl is twenty-five, cynical and sarcastic. Boy is a earlier-thirty-something schemer, not quite ready (or willing) to grow up. Hilarity ensues.

As far as I can guess this will be one of those Boy meets Girl, Boy and girl annoy each other, but probably something about them will inspire each other kind of things, haha. No word yet on if they live happily ever after. I'll have to get back to you on that. But I'm excited to read. You should check it out!

back later for more (probably),

christinA

P.S. - I was just spellchecking this, and blogger suggested Heineken for Hoboken, haha. I found that amusing.

Whole Lotta Fiction

I finished reading all the Sookie Stackhouse books. I feel triumphant and a little sad. It's lonely now not being constantly surrounded by the residents of Bon Temps and owners/proprietors of Fangtasia. *Sigh* I'll be alright.

In the meantime, I'm trying to work more on that piece of fiction I told you about in the last couple of posts. I haven't really done more research. I'm trying to plan more of the prospective plot before I delve too far into researching. I've kind of hit a speed bump though. I'm not really sure where to go with it. I kind of came up with the idea of having it sort of be a grungier The Five People You Meet in Heaven. But I don't want my protagonist to be dead. What I really need is a struggle, or a goal. I need an inner goal and an outer goal. What I mean is, I need her to want to achieve something, and in achieving that, she achieves something else. It's a basic formula, but it works. I'll think on it some more.

Speaking of basic formulas, I was thinking about movies, and how a lot of them follow similar plots. That led me to remember the whole "every story/movie is based on a Shakespeare play" thing. I'm not sure how true that is, but it does make good sense. Tried and true plot formulas, you know? I know there are a million movies that are all: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl's heart again, or some other version of that. But I was thinking, there's an even more specific version of that that I've seen at least 3 times. Can you think of any more?

Boy needs to create something or suffer the consequences. Fair Maiden assists. They fall in love.
1. Music & Lyrics
2. Alex & Emma
(These two are almost identical, but Music & Lyrics was way cuter. I think it has a lot to do with Hugh Grant. But really: boy needs to do something or will lose big paying job/will be beaten up. Boy meets girl who is there to help. Boy and girl mostly annoy each other. Girl has something in her that inspires boy. Something about boy almost breaks them up. Boy and girl realize they love each other. Boy and girl live happily ever after. Right?)
3. Shakespeare in Love
(This one is a little different, but still mostly the same. Boy needs to do something or will be stolen from and essentially tortured. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl annoy each other a bit before boy discovers truth about girl. Girl has something in her that inspires boy. Something about boy almost breaks them up. Boy and girl realize they love each other. Boy and girl... end up not so happily ever after, but her inspiration serves as his muse to write one of boy/Shakespeare's plays, a pretty good romcom called "Twelfth Night").

I suppose #1 and #2 would be like "A Midsummer Night's Dream" minus the fairies and the actors, sort of, and #3 would be "Romeo and Juliet" seeing as they couldn't be together. But then that just makes me wonder... did Shakespeare rip himself off? I mean, a lot of writers end up writing the same kind of stories with the same kind of characters, just with little nuances. We find plotlines we like, and we stick to them. It's called genre, haha.

So, then... big revelation here... maybe Shakespeare was no better a writer than any of us. He just did it first. Yes, he had other plotlines, but even "Twelfth Night" had elements of boy meets girl (in disguise), lots of plot lots of plot lots of plot, boy and girl fall in love and live happily ever after (that stupid Amanda Bynes movie was a modern update of this. The one where she disguised herself as her brother so she could play soccer... wtf was that called? who cares?). Wait... wasn't "As You Like It" about this too, a girl in disguise in love with a boy who doesn't know the truth until the end? Never Been Kissed anyone? (i love that movie). Ever After too, for that matter. Gosh, they're all coming to me now!

So what say you? Was Shakespeare a brilliant writer, a man with hackneyed albeit proven plotlines, or both because of the latter and the fact that he did it 400 years ago? I'd go with both. Any thoughts?

The Research Has Begun

So, I've started doing research for my next work of fiction. I don't have a well thought out plan yet, just bits and pieces of interesting information. I'm trying to mould a character, which will be a girl, but I don't have much info on her yet. I know she's going to be not quite and adult, as she will still be in school. I just haven't decided if that school is high school or college. The decision will alter many things, and I need to figure what I really want.

I'm also toying with a couple plot lines/character quirks, but I also need to figure out how I am going to execute them in the way/medium I want (which I'm not going to disclose here just yet. I need to work out some of the logistics first).

So, for now, I'm toying with the ideas I've come up with so far. All 2 of them. I've started the research. For example, did you know that singer/songwriter Jeff Buckley spent most of his childhood going by the name Scotty Moorhead? I didn't either. We'll see how that tidbit will play into things, haha.

I wish I could give more details, but, sadly, I don't have them. I'm wary about giving too much information. Not like many people read this, but I don't like to share unless I know something concrete, you know? We'll see what happens.

Until later,

christinA

(Edit: I just noticed this. I now have more posts in June than I do for the rest of the year so far. I like this. I'm going to try to keep it up, and keep you abreast of my life-doings. Yeah.)

Impending Withdrawal

I've finished all 8 of the Sookie Stackhouse books that are in my possession. I went online and found the first chapter of book #9, Dead and Gone. I feel like I'm on crack. I need more. I can't live without it! Haha. I don't know what I'm going to do once I do get my hands on the last book and finally finish it. There aren't any more after this one. I think I heard #10 should be out next year or something, but really? Next year? Next year! I don't know what I'm going to do.

Maybe I'll delve into some fiction of my own. Yeah... that sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'll start planning now, so that when I do finally come to the painful goodbye-for-now at the end of book #9, I'll have an idea of what to do with myself.

Heh. This shit's even more addictive than Twilight. And we all know how addictive that is.

In related news: Rob Pattinson and Kristen Stewart are apparently dating. That's kind gross. I mean, she's kinda gross. She does have a certain nonchalance to her, which is appealing I guess. She made a bad decision with that mullet hairdo thing, though.

Okay, enough with the celebrity gossip. Gonna start my fiction planning while I eat lunch!

(Edit: I'm getting better at this whole posting more frequently thing! Right on!)

(Edit #2: I got my fix! Got my grubby hands on book #9. Withdrawal postponed... at least for a day. Though it may only be enough to hold me over a couple of hours. Eek!)

Let Them Eat Cate, and Other Vaguely Amusing Typos

I don't know what's gotten into me today, but I've had the giggles like no other. Maybe it's all the sugar. A few people in my office decided that today would be "Let Them Eat Cake" day, which consisted of a handful of people making baked goodies that the rest of us freeloaders got to sample. I had a little chocolate brownie and a chocolate cupcake with homemade icing. In hindsight, this was not such a great idea.

First of all, added to my soda, I think I have enough sugar to last me the rest of the day. Said sugar has done very interesting and fun things to my nervous system. Though, admittedly, they are not Work-Safe. Up there, in the first paragraph, I mentioned my giggles. As I was explaining about "Let Them Eat Cake" day, I originally typoed, "Let Them Eat Cate." I had to stifle the giggle that would have betrayed me. Just 4 minutes ago, while attempting to post this entry, I googled "blooger" instead of "blogger." Stifle again. Luckily Google knew what I wanted. And the whole thing that started this? I was tweeting (www.twitter.com/clrumbaugh) about how I had just scratched my lip and it hurt like hell. Thankfully I caught it, but I originally typoed, "I just scratched my life." That was the worst offender of all.

I'm sure none of this is funny to you right now, but just thought I'd share (in the nature of an online journal).

In other news: I'm planning a work of fiction for the near future. I'll fill you in on the details once I have enough to share. Stay tuned...

christinA

Stop! Stalker Time!

I was just thinking: I haven't had an adventure in a long time. I mean, I went down to NC for Amy's wedding two weekends ago (which was awesome, btw), but I haven't had a REAL adventure, you know? I think I need to go to NYC to explore. I haven't done that in a LONG time.

Maybe I will go Rob Pattinson hunting, haha. I know that makes me sound like a 13-year-old girl, but it sounds like fun. But it also makes me feel like a hypocrite because I hate that he's being mobbed by teenage girls constantly, most recently while he's trying to film a new movie, Remember Me. Apparently, yesterday, he was even clipped by a taxi whilst trying to get away from a mob of said teenagers. I don't know how true that is, as I've seen conflicting reports. But I wish they would leave him alone and let him do his job. Now, I'm not going to get all Chris Crocker/Leave Britney Alone! about it, but screaming girls give me the willies. And I read something once that said Mr. Pattinson doesn't like crowds either. In fact, he's apparently so afraid of them, he fears that in mobs, there's nothing stopping someone from stabbing him. Poor kid with his paranoia.

So I'd opt for the more creepy, but less invasive form of hunting -- standing on the other side of the street, looking on with longing and affection haha... Yeah, that's LOADS better. But I still think I might do it, haha.

I'll let you know what happens.

I did it again.

Happy 100th Post to me! Yay! This is a milestone!

Though, technically, a few of the 100 remain unpublished, saved-as-draft lost entities, but we shall forgive me that. Happy 100th Attempted Post to me! That's more like it.

Anyway, like I said, I'm going to try to return to this ol' thing more frequently. Thus, I have returned.

Last post I expounded on the joy of reading. Well, I did it again. And there's no "oops" about it. I meant to... sort of. Last night I deprived myself of sleep because I was too into the book I was reading. I had meant to go to sleep at 12:30 a.m. What time did I eventually setting down into my bunk? 2:00 a.m. Whoops.

I had to. I was so close to the end, I couldn't justify sleeping until I had finished it. And I did. And it was good. Too much of a cliffhanger, as I wanted the two people in the last scene to do more than coyly flirt with each other. Like in last post, I'm still reading the Sookie Stackhouse books. Last night's conquest was Book #5. Now I'm about 20 pages into book #6, and I had to force myself to stop. Bringing books to work is a bad thing. It's distracting. I end up catching myself looking at it longingly. I sometimes allow myself 2-minute reading intervals before I resume my work again, but it's never enough to satisfy my narrative-loving heart. These books are fairly easy reads, but still. I don't think I've read this much in a long time. The success of last night's wee hour reading, make 7 books that I have finished in less than a month. This is liberating. This is what I've wanted to do since I graduated college.

Not a very lofty goal, I know. But I know so many people who are like "oh, I'm excited because now that I'm not in school I can just read! And read stuff I want to read, not just stupid school-related books!" But not a lot of people I know have actually done it. And it's taken me over a year, but I'm doing it! Woo! This is exciting.

Alright, back to the grind. More updates on my life later.

In other news: If you're on Twitter, please follow @peterfacinelli (www.twitter.com/peterfacinelli). He's trying to amass 500k followers by Friday. If he does, we get to see his friend Rob DeFranco dance to "Single Ladies" in a bikini on Hollywood Blvd. If he loses, he loses the backing of his chair for Twilight. At the time of this post, Peter has just 130 shy of 200,000. Let's do this!

Unofficial Reading Day

You know what I love, but I feel like I haven't really been able to do in years? Just read. Just spend an entire day reading. I did that on Saturday, and it was AMAZING.

Now, to be fair, I was able to accomplish this feat a few times last summer, but I was also unemployed then, so I kind of felt like I was cheating, doing something I shouldn't have been doing. Having fun when I should have been looking for a job. But now, since I have a job, the prospect of spending an entire day reading was beyond ecstasy. I woke up at about 10:30 a.m. and started reading. I read all the way to noon, then started laundry. I read off and on as I waiting for my clothes to finish getting clean, and briefly ate lunch. But then I just kept on reading. I stopped reading at 8:00 so I could go have dinner with my friend, but my God, that was a blissful day.

I was reading book 4 of the Sookie Stackhouse Southern Vampire series (you know, I'm not actually sure what the official name of the series is, haha). I could not put it down. I started it at like 2am Saturday morning, but forced myself to go to bed at 3. Then just read and read and read when I woke up. It's so freaking entertaining! For those of you who don't know, these books are about Louisiana barmaid Sookie Stackhouse. In her world, vampires are now "out of the closet" and most of them are trying to become members of mainstream society. Sookie meets one of them, Bill, and they start dating, and falling in love, and having mad passionate sex. You know, the usual, haha. Then then, trouble arises for our fair barmaiden. In every book. Of course. But they really suck you in (no pun intended). Book 4 REALLY sucked me in, and I kind of fell in love with the bad boy vampire. There's so much drama, but it's so much fun (and raunchy!). I can't wait to read more!!!

In other news: This is the most adorable blog I have ever seen. http://www.mymilktoof.blogspot.com/

I want a milk toof!

christinA

Rebirth of an Online Journal?

I've been reading through a few of my posts (again) over at LiveJournal.com. Damn, I haven't been on that site in a long time. I like to revisit every once in a while, to remind myself of what my life used to be like. A lot has changed since that last post there, made 4/22/06. That was the last post I made before permanently switching over to Blogger.

Reading through the entries, I noticed something. I was kind of depressed for a lot of those posts (though, not that that's not a trait of some of my posts here), but I've mentioned that somewhere here before. But I noticed something new today. The posts I made over at LiveJournal were so much freer than these. Maybe it's because I'm older. Maybe it's because I realized that people can actually read these. Maybe it's for a hundred reasons, but you know what? I kind of miss it.

I've been trying to do that again here, trying to use this regularly as an online journal like I did at LJ. There, I would post about anything, but here, not so much. Am I afraid of my "image" or something? Nah, I don't think so. I mean, I posted a lot of content here that is the same as what I would have posted there, except that I don't often name names here, haha. Yeah, remember that post about song headaches, back, oh gosh, like 2 years ago? Yeah, that song I was referring to is actually a person. Can you dig my metaphor? haha.

But see, I haven't written anything like that for, well, probably two years or so. Every once in a while, I'll come out with a substantial post, but I'm not free anymore. To hell with being judged. I want to try to post freely here again. Who cares that I'm 23 and angsty? I am Generation Y. That's who we are. So be it.

Alright. I make this promise almost every post, but I want to try to post here more often. I'm going to try to use it as a journal again, albeit a very public journal because I don't necessarily want it to be private. I'm weird about stuff like that. So mundane details, here I come.

Hope y'all don't mind too much :)

christinA

Little Ashes!

I really do need to keep up with this more. I've decided that with the invention of the Internet, and the subsequent invention of every single social networking site and cool new blogging site, all meant to make connecting with and keeping track of people easier, it is, in actuality, much harder. Who has time for them all?

Anyway, I totally forgot to tell you about the movie I saw 5/8. Yep, Little Ashes made its 12-screen debut across America two weeks ago, making just under $74,000 its opening weekend. Hey, that's not bad for only 12 screens. Now playing in 15 theaters across the country, it has grossed $151,390! That's terrific if you think about it: a little known indie film about mostly forgotten Spanish culture icons, Salvador Dali and Federico Garcia Lorca. Yeah, the gross total of the second week was almost half of what it was opening week, but still. That's not a bad amount of money. Okay, yeah... so it's not doing that well. I blame the lack of publicity.

I'm making a poor example of my degree here, as I have not properly researched, but I assume that the film had a relatively small budget. Perhaps there was not a lot of room there for publicity/marketing. Perhaps they thought that since now one of their stars is a tween-heartthROB, that was all they needed. I don't think they counted on that, but who knows. Still, the thing that's sad about this is that such a moving movie will go unseen by millions because there is/was not enough backing for a wider release.

Then again, that leaves more of a chance for it to accrue a cult following, as I think it deserves. The movie follows Spanish painter Salvador Dali as he enters university, where he meets poet Federico Garcia Lorca and filmmaker Luis Bunuel. There seems to be an immediate attraction between Dali and Garcia Lorca, whom Dali remarks, shyly and in awe, is "famous" for having published one of his poems. Garcia Lorca is equally impressed by Dali's artistic ability. They, along with friend Bunuel, work off of and with each others' abilities, all in the midst of a country on the brink of civil war. With this war, and its blossoming societal/fascist conflicts as the backdrop, Dali and Garcia Lorca struggle with their passion for each other. You see, Dali is torn between the passion he feels for Garcia Lorca and his strong Catholic upbringing (not to mention his fear of syphilis... oddly, I'm assuming, displayed through 2 bizarre bouts of hearing voices in his head. I'm assuming this because they never explain what the voices are). Meanwhile, the country is changing, drawing Bunuel off to Paris, where he feels he needs to escape. Eventually Dali follows, crushing Garcia Lorca, who remains behind. Periodically, they meet up, and their passion is reignited. However, now the country is in turmoil and homosexuality is a crime. You know they still love each other, but... I don't want to ruin anything for you. Go hunt down a theater playing this movie and watch it for yourself :)

This movie got mixed reviews. Some love it; others hated it. And while the story does kind of move slowly toward the beginning, it's still very engaging and entertaining. Robert Pattinson as Salvador Dali is definitely the comic relief (at one point, trying to make a socialite feel awkward, Dali announced that he "would like an enema!"). Not to mention that signature weirdo-Dali face with his crazy, upturned handlebar mustache. Pattinson pulls this off quite well. But in the more serious scenes, Pattinson and Javier Beltran (Federico Garcia Lorca) are also sweet, awkward, and most importantly, believable. I thought the love scenes would be uncomfortable to watch, especially after reports came out about how the crew would giggle as they were trying to film them, but they were actually quite passionate and consuming. Even the sex/masterbation scene with the longing stares was so intense, I may have held my breath. I won't reveal anything, but damn. Just damn.

I thought it was a great movie, and I would totally see it again. I love when a movie has the power to evoke an emotion in my cold, little heart, haha. This one definitely did. Damn, now I want to see it again. Trip to NYC anyone? :)