Month: August 2011

My Long Awaited Return…

It has been too long since I have taken the time to sit down and write. For that, I humbly apologize.  I would like to convince myself that I had good reason to take the time off but perhaps that is just an excuse to pardon my being remiss.

My return to the blogosphere may not be the most entertaining blog that I have yet to produce but it is very important.  I have decided to begin a new venture and with that, I will be needing the support of all of you.  I am a master procrastinator and while I prefer to look at this as something of a talent, I will need the encouragement from friends and family to suppress this talent and get to work.  Are you ready to help keep me happy, motivated, and positive?!?!  ARE YOU WITH ME?!?!?!  I can’t hear you!!!!!!!

Or see you for that matter, so I’m just going to pretend that you all said yes.  Good, now that we’ve cleared that up I can tell you what this venture of mine will be!  Let me first start off by saying that I am well aware that I have said many a time that I want to do this and I want to do that, and I never seem to get around to it.  This isn’t like that.  I often tell myself that I am going to do something in the hopes that hearing the words aloud will inspire me.  Often, I am very, very wrong.  When I feel something within me screaming that something needs to be done, well…now shit’s serious.  It is a little hard to explain and maybe some of you don’t believe in intuition or “feelings” but I do.  My soul is telling me that it is time to quit putzing around and get working.

A movie.  This is my new venture.  I would like to create and produce a feature-length movie from start to finish.  I am taking it very seriously this time.  The idea is becoming more and more real to me with every breath I take.  I have invested in numerous screenwriting books as I attempt to teach myself a method that will work for me as I plan to write my very own feature.  Yes, sometimes it is difficult to keep the faith , but for this new project, keeping the faith is my only option.  If I can feel it deep within me, I have no choice but to believe that this is what I am meant to do.

A few of my good friends know that I harbor aspirations of becoming the next Tina Fey or Woody Allen.  For those of you who don’t understand, this means that I would love to write my own works, hopefully quirky like Tina Fey, and then shove myself in a leading role, a la Woody Allen.  As for this film,  I have made no casting decisions as of yet.  I plan to write a character driven movie and once those characters become more clear, I will begin to think about casting choices.  As for a crew, I do have a few people in mind that I would love to work with but again, I am thinking too far ahead.  (But everyone keep your fingers crossed that I will get to work with my idols!)

This is more than a labor of love for me.  I’ve been going through a bit of a difficult time and I remember being so happy when I made my first movie (It’s posted in my first blog…check it out if you’re looking for a good giggle.)  It’s not that I want to make this movie; it’s that I need to.  I make no secret of the fact that I am unhappy with the way my first movie panned out.  I loved the people I worked with more than anything and I would never want to cast doubt on their abilities.  Everyone involved did a fantastic job and the movie is still quite enjoyable.  The only problem was that it wasn’t what I had envisioned.  This time around, I will be taking more care to ensure that my vision is what you see on that screen.

I will continue to blog about nonsense with a few posts about my progress along the way.  I hope to keep you entertained and just as excited as I am for this new step in my life.

So Support Team… let’s get crackin’!

In the interim…

Hello All,

I’m sorry that it’s been so long.  I have had some things that I needed to take care of.  Until I can sit down to write another entertaining yet meaningless blog, I will leave you with a poem.  (For those of you who don’t like poems, you can just stop reading now.  That means you, Craig!!)

Heaven

The clear blue waters flow before me.

The weeping willow bending gently,

Peacefully awaiting a kiss at the river’s edge.

The cool breeze caressing my cheeks,

Softly whispering in my ear.

This is heaven.

The calm.

The serenity.

Heaven.

The trees in bloom and the birds singing above me.

We have been given life again.

Vivacity abounds.

Embrace it.

Let it envelop you.

This is heaven.

The calm.

The serenity.

The freedom.

Heaven.

When the World Stops Spinning

                Did the world just come to a crashing halt?  No?  If the earth hasn’t stopped spinning, why is it that I feel so dizzy and I can’t catch my breath?  Oh, I know what it is.  It’s that moment when you realize that the person you once admired so much isn’t who you thought they were.  I think we all feel that dizziness at one time or another, though the realization may not always reflect the same person.

                My world stood still on its axis briefly when I realized that my father wasn’t the man I’d idolized my whole life.  In no way do I mean to sit here and disparage my father.  What I mean to say is that the man is human.  Somehow I hadn’t realized this until now.  He was always better than me, cooler than me, and wiser than me.  He was perfect.  As I grew older this remained my truth; until recently. 

                I will always love my father and I will forever admire his strength and perseverance but no longer do I believe he is without fault.  I have thoughts of my own and though he may be older and wiser, I cannot accept the notion that his experience somehow invalidates my own opinions.  With every harsh word, from his lips or mine, his star shines a little less bright.  With every loud and frustrating disagreement, I see that we are the same.  I am my father’s daughter, stubborn and hot-headed; strong and determined.  I am well aware that I am flawed and having seen how similar I am to my father, knowing my own faults, I can no longer award him the position of perfection he once held.

                Am I proud to be my father’s daughter?  Of course I am.  Frustrating as the man may be, he’s a parent and it is to be expected.  I’ve been told that parents have a hard time letting go of their children, and no one could have proved this better than my father.  Love is a dangerous and strong emotion, for family and lovers alike.  The same rules apply.  The tighter you keep hold of what you love, the more they pull away.  My message to couples, parents, and children alike take the time to walk in their shoes.  What must they feel like?  Am I suffocating them?  Am I giving them enough attention?  Am I listening to what they want?  Don’t lose the best thing in your life because you didn’t take the time to slip into those loafers, those sneakers, or those heels.

                Tears and tantrums come with the territory when you love someone, no matter what age you are and no matter whom your love is for.  Children, don’t lose hope when your world stops for a moment because you realize that your parents aren’t the superhero you thought they were.  Parents, don’t lose hope when your children stop seeing you as a superhero and be grateful that they can accept you for who you are.  They will still love and admire you, for the real you.  Miraculously, the world will start spinning again.   

Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder what it is that I’m supposed to take from life.  All too often it seems futile to take one more step just to be pushed backward three more.  It is hard to hang onto the hope that life will change, but I can’t let go.  No matter how much I cry and no matter how much I say that I’m giving up, I can’t.  I have a dreamer’s soul and there remains a constant glimmer of happiness in the distance.

When we are young, we are taught that we can grow up and do anything our hearts desire.  Then the economy crashes and our hearts break more and more every day with each table we serve, each cup of coffee we sell, and each pair of pants we ring up.  Anywhere from forty to one hundred and twenty thousand dollars worth of education and we have been reduced to begging for what we would have snickered at only a few years before.  We can do anything our hearts desire though, right?  I will cry as much as I want and no one can tell me that I am wrong.  Do not dare tell me that feeling is wrong or that it makes me weak.  I will continue doing my best to make my dreams come true in the bleakest of times, but there will be tears along the way.

Call it determination, call it drive, call it whatever you will but I call it stubbornness.  I just can’t let the world win.  I won’t let the world win.  My theater major and I will manage to climb up the ladder of success, in one way or another.  I am too stubborn to have it any other way.  Laugh at me or pity me or take my lead.  Don’t succumb to the doldrums of a job you hate!  Don’t let it slowly kill your soul or that glimmer in the distance!  Strive to be what it is that you wanted to be when your heart still believed it had a chance!

And make time to cry along the way.  Take nothing for granted.

Picture this.  Jason Bateman as a douche and Ryan Reynolds as a loving, caring father.  Wait, what?!  You read right, in the new movie “The Change-Up”, Ryan Reynolds’ character, an unemployed ladies’ man switches bodies with Jason Bateman’s character, an overworked lawyer and family man.  I haven’t seen Reynolds act this sweet since “Definitely, Maybe” and Bateman?  Well I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bateman act like this much of an asshole and yet it is a welcome change.  (Although he was a secret douche in “Juno.”)

This movie was absolutely hysterical!  It had me laughing throughout the entire movie, which would normally be a good thing if I wasn’t also drinking a margarita at the time and then had to pee for the whole second half.  (For those of you who have never suffered this torture, let me just tell you that you would much rather be sitting through a tear-jerker while your bladder slowly tries to explode than a movie that keeps you doubled over in stitches.)  And don’t worry, I was in one of the cool new-fandangled dine-in movie theaters where you’re actually allowed to have alcohol.  I’m not cool enough to sneak alcohol into a theater in a thermos and a paper bag or something (as evidenced by the fact that I just said ‘thermos’ AND a paper bag).

I just wanted to take the time and blog about this movie because it has been a while since I’ve seen a comedy worth talking about.  Thankfully, I didn’t feel like I wasted $15 in a theater this time!  (Yes, it actually cost $15- that’s what the world is coming to.)  It was a very well-written, well-acted, and well-directed movie and I would most definitely encourage comedy-lovers out there to go see it.  I refuse to write an entire review of the movie because well, I’m lazy and movie-reviews always annoy me.  You don’t need to know the details of the movie before you go see it; that defeats the purpose.  You know my opinion, now go out and make one of your own!

Snookie has an E True Hollywood Story

I am willing to be completely upfront with you.  This blog is a waste of space.  Why is that, you ask?  Because it was inspired by Jersey Shore’s Snookie, whom I despise.  Just a moment ago I saw that she has her own E True Hollywood Story, and after suppressing the urge to vomit, I immediately ran to the computer.  While I do not believe any more time should be spent talking about her, it brings me to a very important point.  What has society come to?  Are we so idea-barren that all we can come up with now is “Reality TV”?

I would hate to burst your bubble but that crap is not reality.  I don’t know about you but in my reality, I don’t get to say “Wait.  Cut.  Can you say that to me again?  Just one more time but this time, I’m going to punch you.  You can then proceed to get angry and respond accordingly.  Okay? Rolling!”  If that were reality and I could rewind time at will, I would have a lot fewer regrets, wouldn’t I?  Let’s just call it what it is, “Garbage: Because some producer wasn’t clever enough to come up with entertaining fiction”.  The only show that I will let slide by with the “Reality TV” title is Celebrity Rehab** because they focus on an addict’s reality.  While I don’t know enough about their process to say that it is effective as a form of treatment, if judging solely on a documentary-style (reality) basis, this show can claim to be “Reality TV”.

I am tired of turning on the TV to learn that Snookie got drunk, fell down a manhole, and came out covered in crap to promote her new slipper-line.  I DON’T CARE.  When she cures Cancer, then you can splash her all over the news and I will keep my mouth shut.  I don’t even want to know what hooker Charlie Sheen threatened to kill lately either.  Focus on getting these people some help, not parading them all over the media.  Shining attention on them and giving them movie and book deals won’t aid in their recovery.  Additionally, I don’t want to know who is dating who or who broke up with who.  Give these people a sense of privacy before they all turn to drugs just to tune out the damn media.

Let’s get out there and take that same energy that it takes to gather and cast idiots for a pointless “Reality TV” show and come up with something worth watching.  Make me cry, make me laugh, but please at least act like you tried.

**There are other shows filmed in the style of documentary and as they attempt to reflect reality, they are excluded from my disgust for Reality Television.

A Love Letter

Sorry folks, I took a day off but I am back and raring to go!  I thought it best to sit down and write a long overdue love-letter.  My original recipient was briefly overshadowed by a wonderfully delicious bag of sour patch kids that I just devoured.  At the time they seemed like they were deserving of a love letter, but now that the sugar rush has faded, I have returned to my true love; Seth MacFarlane.  For those of you who don’t know, Seth is the creator of the ever popular Family Guy and this is my profession of loveIf you are not Seth MacFarlane, please stop reading.  Obviously this is personal and between the two of us.  (I’m merely posting it on the internet to be…ya know..ironic).

To My Dearest Seth,

I know that we have never met and most likely never will, but I can no longer hide my love for you.  I need you to know how wonderful you are and what a wonderful couple we would make! Firstly, I would like to say that I am nothing like those women who throw themselves at rich, famous, attractive older men for little more than 15 minutes of fame!  (I’m aiming for at least a half hour.  AT LEAST.)

I admire your talents and ballsiness, for lack of a better word.  I’m sure there are better words but it’s late and I’m too lazy to find a thesaurus, so ballsy it is, darling.  Family Guy is constantly offending people , even myself on occasion, but that’s what makes the show so damn fantastic.  I love watching you take aim at what you disagree with through snide yet entertaining comments in cartoon form.  (If only I could do the same, there would be a very unpopular cartoon about an unemployed want-to-be-actress who continually badmouths her former employer who let her go because she was younger and hotter than her).  But I digress.  Please continue taking shots at Fox and bad politics and for the love of god, never lose the musical numbers!  I would be lying if I said that your music hasn’t seduced me.  With songs like Bag of Weed, Drunken Irish Dad and Down Syndrome Girl; how could I ever resist?

Truthfully, I knew that I was in love as soon as I heard this song:

With your many talents and male bravado (I prefer to call it that rather than cockiness), I am immediately drawn to you and with a voice like that, what woman could keep her panties on?  Keep singing my darling, keep making people laugh, but most importantly, keep this in mind:

Love me, marry me, sing to me, but most of all…make me famous?  Afterall, we discussed that 30 minutes of fame, right? 😉

Please say you’ll be my Shipoopi?

Ally McBeal Troubles Me

Unemployment and a new Netflix subscription go together like no other.  If ever there were two things destined to be together, it would be unemployment and Netflix.  My days go by with unexpected rapidity, disappearing almost as soon as they begin.  I start the day with a trip to the gym, a couple of calls to unemployment, a few resumes sent out and then– NETFLIX.  In the last few days alone, I have watched the first eighteen episodes of Ally McBeal; Ms. McBeal being the true reason for this post.  I was only 10 when the show first aired and not much interested in legal dramas, afterall Ally Mcbeal can in no way compare to Reptar, Skeeter or, dare I say it, Tommy Pickles.  Having grown up a little(and I stress a little), I have turned my attention to the courtroom.

Drop Dead Diva first sparked my interest in the law (television’s version of the law).  After having seen how exciting and funny and glamorous lawyers can be, my immediate response was to go to law school!  I then remembered that if I were to become a lawyer, I would actually have to study things and I’ve never been so good at that but the true deterrent was that real lawyers don’t become famous and well-loved nor do they break out in song and dance in the middle of open court (to my knowledge).  Shame.  That was the only real draw.  But I digress.  After falling in love with Diva, I remembered the Ally McBeal craze in the late 90’s.  If it was so big then, maybe I should check it out now.  And so grew a new obsession.

The quandary with Ally McBeal is that, as the title character, Ally is whom I hate most.  For those of you who have not seen the show, I will explain.  The woman is totally and completely insane and yet they allow her to practice law!  She has hallucinations daily and interacts with them as if they were real.  SHE DOES THIS IN FRONT OF COWORKERS.  IN HER OFFICE.  IN A COURT OF LAW!  Would someone like to explain to me how this is endearing?

Perhaps I get so offended because I see myself in her neurotic nature.  I wonder often if this is how people see me.  I admit that I daydream frequently.  I visualize things all the time and even occasionally talk to myself.  I was once told by an old professor of mine that I “am a neurotic mess who does not know how wonderful she really is.”    Good lord, I am Ally McBeal.  I see myself in her outlandish behavior, her quick temper, her infatuation with (and simultaneous fear of) love and yes, even her hallucinations.  At least mine don’t involve dancing babies and the “Ooga Chaka” song.

Look at us.  Twins.  I suppose that after having come to this realization I should be relieved.  I can’t expect anyone else to like me if I don’t like Ally Mcbeal, I mean, myself.  (Yes…myself).  If a neurotic mess like Ally McBeal can be loved my millions, why can’t I?  I can be totally quirky and off-the-wall and feisty!  Look out, world–  you’ve got another crazy, insecure, neurotic mess about to become the love of your life.

P.S-  To be fair, I still love the show.  It’s worth watching if only for the supporting characters who are fantastically developed and more than lovable.  (Look out for the Biscuit, he’s my favorite!)

A Poet at Heart

I thought I might give you a little taste of my poetry as well.  I hope you enjoy. 🙂

Inner Conflict

Everything in me says move.

Everything in me says stay.

Moment to moment, emotions change.

Conflict is life.

Fight the confusion.

Fight the dissonance.

Fight or flight.

Move or stay.

Something.

Anything.

Make a choice.

Rose-colored Glasses

Clear blue skies lose their beauty,

In a world of pink.

The colors of the changing leaves fade before you.

The green grass turns brown.

The music in the air floats by,

In a world of pink.

The pain may hide,

But so does love.

So does feeling.

So does life,

In a world of pink.

Embrace the world you live in.

See it for what it truly is,

Both the good and bad.

Experience this world,

If only for a moment,

Sans your rose-colored glasses.

Farewell to a world of pink.

Life is a Sitcom

     “My life has a superb cast, but I can’t figure out the plot.”  I came across this quote on facebook, where else?  (Thank you to the dear friend who posted this quote.  It gave me something to write about!)  I then googled to find this adorable picture so that I could give you some decor in this blog.  In all seriousness, is there anyone who can’t relate to this quote?  If you can’t, you’ve obviously come from another planet.

Indeed I do have a superb cast in my life.  I’ve got the quirky side-kicks, the arch-enemies (those guys–not so superb), the love interest, and some comic relief; all the makings of a fantastic movie.  Unfortunately, if this were a real movie the damn thing would never get made because the plot is all over the place, inconsistent and hard to follow.  I might be able to let it pass for a 90’s sitcom.

Why is it so hard to accept that not knowing the plot is a blessing?  Because it makes shit difficult!  That’s why!  As exhilerating as surprises are, comfort comes with security and knowing that everything will be okay.  We can promise ourselves blindly that everything will be okay, and I firmly believe that in the end it will, but what about all that’s in between?  How difficult will it get?  How much suffering must I or you do before it’s “okay”?  When is the episode where I lose my job coming?  (Oh wait, I’ve gotten that out of the way already. Fingers crossed that that particular episode won’t go into syndication)  In what season will I get my dream job?  And how will my series finale play out?  What do I do with all of these questions?!

The reality is that people want to know what’s coming.  Perhaps not the immediate future, but we all look for that validation that in the end, we will have what we’ve always wanted.  In the end, it will all work out.  We neglect to see that what we really want may change as time moves forward and things that we never expected to happen change the way we look at things.  I am terrified that my future will not be what I hoped for.  But in the end, I am the driving force behind the way my life turns out.  There is no one to blame but myself if I end my life as a cranky old coot blaming my kids for the misfortune I’d experienced.  So for now, I choose to write my sitcom day by day.  I can’t possibly plan my future.  There’s no fun in that.

And here’s a secret- I’m pretty sure that most sitcom writers have no idea what their next move is either.  I mean, have you seen some of the plot lines out there today??