I saw two movies this weekend. I haven't been going to see any movies at the theater because I've been so busy and because I started getting depressed while I was in the theatre. Even when I was supposd to be seeing a comedy, I'd get depressed.
I'd be watching the movie and really getting in the story, and after awhile I'd think to myself that watching this movie was just an escape for me and afterwards I'd be going back to my horrible life. This thought would make me so depressed because I couldn't even enjoy watching a movie without my horrible life intruding on the experience.
I came to this same realization about drinking awhile back. I used to drink to escape my life, until I realized one night that once the high of being drunk wears off you're still stuck with your life.
The night that experience happened I was out partying with friends, and drank what I thought was a ton of booze. I came home, drank some more and then lay awake in bed unable to sleep. As the booze gradually wore off, the awfulness of my life started to hit me. I got so mad. I mean, what was the point of drinking if the high was so short and at the end you were back stuck with your horrible life? I felt so damned cheated, especially because of the volume of alcohol I had consumed.
Booze is such a slavemaster! In the beginning it doesn't take much for you get tipsy. Then little by little, you need more and more, and high of drinking gets shorter and shorter. Soon you're drinking a ton and not getting much out of it. Then after awhile you have to drink to maintain your blood alcohol levels, because if you don't maintain your levels you get cranky. And the crankiness gets totally worse on the third day if you go without alcohol. If you don't watch out you become a slave to heartless bottle of brown or white liquid in the bottle. Slavery to inanimate objects have never been my thing.
After that night, I started cutting down on my drinking. It seemed so pointless now. Now I just drink when I'm out with friends, at parties or when friends come over. I rarely drink when I'm by myself, although I still like to keep a very well stock liquor cabinet for company and just in case I have the urge to have a drink.
Anyway, enough about my boozaholic history. The two movies I saw was "Shrek 2" and "Troy". I wouldn't have gone to see Shrek 2, but "The Day after Tomorrow" was sold out, and Shrek was the only movie available when I was at the theatre on Friday.
Shrek 2 was really, really funny! I'll probably rent it again because I'm sure there jokes that I missed because I was laughing so hard. The theatre wasn't very packed, but other people were laughing so it must have been funny to other people as well. At one point, we were all clapping as well although I don't quite remember when that happened in the movie.
I wasn't going to see "Troy" but on Friday, I listened to Skip Bayless' review of the movie. Skip Bayless, a sport columnist for The Mercury news, was guest hosting The Jim Rome show on Friday. Bayless reviewed the movie "Troy" and tried to make a connection to sports by talking about Brad Pitt.
Bayless kept going on and on about how Brad Pitt's upper body was just amazingly well built, and how Pitt had trained for six months to achieve his upper body look. Bayless tried to make a connection between Pitt and Barry Bonds. Bayless said that people couldn't believe how much Barry Bonds built his upper body a few years ago, and so attributed Bonds' upper body strength to steroids. Bayless said that if Pitt didn't take steroids to achieve his muscular upper body, then it must be able to be done without drugs. So maybe Barry Bonds just trained hard like Brad Pitt, and didn't take drugs to do it.
Bayless then further reinforced his point, by saying that Brad Pitt's legs looked way too skinny, and faulted his trainer for not working on Pitt's legs. But if Pitt was on steroids, his lower legs should have also been built up even without him working on them.
So of course I had to see "Troy" on Saturday if Skip Bayless was raving about Brad Pitt's body. And yes, the boy was ripped and had the kind of back muscles you just want to run your tongue over to feel every curve. And I'm one of few women on this planet who doesn't think Brad Pitt is all that attractive either.
But never mind Pitt's upper body and skinny legs. What about the boy's bottom? The movie had a ton of shots of the Brad Pitt's bum! Like OH MY GOD! His bum was amazing! What is that expression? So tight he was bouncing off the wall. Like the filmmakers don't know their female audience. There were so many shots of Brad Pitt walking around naked in the tent, and the camera was just a stitch above his crotch that you couldn't help but wonder what was just below the camera line.
I knew there were probably women there squinting to see if there were pubic hairs getting into the shot. You could totally see his front hip bones. I'm not a Brad Pitt groupie, but even I was quite fascinated by his hip bones.
When I saw those Pitt body shots, I sat in my chair wondering if this was going to be like that stupid movie "Legends of the Fall" which my friend made me sit through just so she could oggle Brad Pitt. But thankfully, the "Troy" filmmakers put in some scenes for the men as well.
"Troy" had some great bloody, bloody battle scenes with blood squirting all over the place. There weren't any body parts flying around the screen like in "Braveheart", but I think that was because the weapons weren't the same. In "Braveheart", the men fought with long broadswords. In "Troy", the weapon of choice was arrows.
But there were some great arrows in legs and arrows in other body part scenes. I would have loved to see an arrow go straight through some guy's head, but this event probably doesn't happen that often. The few hand to hand combat scenes "Troy" provided great sword play, and the cuts that people sustained looked very blood and real. I would have been really bummed if the fighting wasn't gory and realistic. What's the point of watching a movie about a war without seeing blood squirting all over the place and tons of dead bodies?
I also saw bodies with lots of realistic bruising, which is really nice to see in a war movie. Usually the bruising parts gets skipped or I just don't notice it. But there was excellent bruising and bruising marks in this movie.
I also liked the guy who played Odysseus, and thought his characterization of that legendary figure was done very well. I hope they make a movie about Odysseus with that actor playing him; he'd be perfect.
Eric Bana of "The Hulk" also did quite a good job. Poor Mr. Hulk. Why did the filmmakers of that movie make The Hulk looke like the Jolly Green Giant from the frozen food packages? The Hulk even had the Jolly Green Giant's purple pants. Orlando Bloom just wasn't as attractive as he was in The Lord of the Rings. He should go back to being a blonde elf boy.
I liked the movie "Troy", but since I know the story I wished the filmmakers hadn't taken so many liberties with the story. Oh well. It's just an adaptation. With all the special effects moviemakers can do currently, you can't help but wonder when you watch a movie like "Troy" if those people you're watching on screen are real or just movie special effects.
In any battle scene, you might be able to safely assume that the first five rows of soldiers are real people because you can actually see their faces and their expressions. But after that, I don't know. I think they're just computer generated especialy if I can see a face or an expression. I spend the whole movie wondering which effects and people are real and which are fake. It kind of takes away for me some of the enjoyment of the movie, but I can't help but do it.
Monday, May 31, 2004
It's been a busy and eventful weekend, and I haven't been in a mood to write. So many things have happened in such a short time.
First off, my uncle is in the hospital in an intensive care ward in Oakland. I spent this Memorial day keeping my aunt company for three hours and just talking to her about what happened. They dont' really know what's wrong with him, other than the fact that his lungs are bleeding. They sort of ruled to tuberculosis, but they just don't know.
My aunt said my uncle had a lung ailment for three weeks and was short of breath. She kept telling him to go to the doctor but he didn't want to. On Thursday he practically fainted at work so he agreed to go see his PCP on Friday. The PCP rushed him to the emergency room so he could go to the hospital for tests. On Saturday he was talking but still short of breath so they put him on oxygen and did a TB test, which turned out to be negative.
Despite the oxygen, he still had trouble breathing, so they put him in ICU on Saturday night and stuck tubes down his throat and put him on a respirator. My aunt finally started calling people on Sunday night, because the doctor said people should come now because his lungs were filling up with blood and he was close to renal failure.
My uncle's illness came as such a surprise. He seemed to be in good health, and other than the lung ailment seemed fine. I wished my uncle wasn't so stubborn and had gone to the doctor when he first starting noticing his lung ailment. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be sitting in the hospital now if he had only gone to the doctor.
My aunt said the timing of my uncle's illness is not that great because he was thinking of retiring from work next year. They even have plans to go on a cruise to Alaska at the end of June, which my aunt doesn't want to cancel yet in case my uncle gets better.
The doctors have absolutely no idea what's wrong with him and they've got him on steroids and strapped to his bed so he doesn't thrash around and yank the tubes out of arms and mouth. My poor uncle. When I was there they decided to keep him sedated to keep him calm to stop him from breathing so hard.
The medical staff are afraid to give him morphine because of his blood pressure and because they haven't ruled out that he might have a heart attack that triggered his lungs to bleed. I think he was thrashing around because he's in a lot of pain. Thankfully one of the nurses decided to give him some vicodin, which I don't think helps his pain at all because my aunt told me my uncle takes vicodin for pain at home for his gout.
My family is flying in from all over the country to see my uncle. I'm going to spend most of my time with them this week and over the weekend. Hopefully the doctors can figure out why my uncle is so sick.
First off, my uncle is in the hospital in an intensive care ward in Oakland. I spent this Memorial day keeping my aunt company for three hours and just talking to her about what happened. They dont' really know what's wrong with him, other than the fact that his lungs are bleeding. They sort of ruled to tuberculosis, but they just don't know.
My aunt said my uncle had a lung ailment for three weeks and was short of breath. She kept telling him to go to the doctor but he didn't want to. On Thursday he practically fainted at work so he agreed to go see his PCP on Friday. The PCP rushed him to the emergency room so he could go to the hospital for tests. On Saturday he was talking but still short of breath so they put him on oxygen and did a TB test, which turned out to be negative.
Despite the oxygen, he still had trouble breathing, so they put him in ICU on Saturday night and stuck tubes down his throat and put him on a respirator. My aunt finally started calling people on Sunday night, because the doctor said people should come now because his lungs were filling up with blood and he was close to renal failure.
My uncle's illness came as such a surprise. He seemed to be in good health, and other than the lung ailment seemed fine. I wished my uncle wasn't so stubborn and had gone to the doctor when he first starting noticing his lung ailment. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be sitting in the hospital now if he had only gone to the doctor.
My aunt said the timing of my uncle's illness is not that great because he was thinking of retiring from work next year. They even have plans to go on a cruise to Alaska at the end of June, which my aunt doesn't want to cancel yet in case my uncle gets better.
The doctors have absolutely no idea what's wrong with him and they've got him on steroids and strapped to his bed so he doesn't thrash around and yank the tubes out of arms and mouth. My poor uncle. When I was there they decided to keep him sedated to keep him calm to stop him from breathing so hard.
The medical staff are afraid to give him morphine because of his blood pressure and because they haven't ruled out that he might have a heart attack that triggered his lungs to bleed. I think he was thrashing around because he's in a lot of pain. Thankfully one of the nurses decided to give him some vicodin, which I don't think helps his pain at all because my aunt told me my uncle takes vicodin for pain at home for his gout.
My family is flying in from all over the country to see my uncle. I'm going to spend most of my time with them this week and over the weekend. Hopefully the doctors can figure out why my uncle is so sick.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
I don't think I'll ever be happy in any job I'm in. I'm convinced of this fact now. Now that I've been at my job for a couple of months, I haven't met anyone who feels very appreciated for what they do. That's sad isn't it? I kind of thought this company would be different, but it's turning out to be more of the same.
Whatever. My fatalist sense tells me that I needed to have this realization so I could get my life back in balance. After all, if I was happy with my job and worked 60-80 hours weeks when would I ever find the time to write?
But I had the realization. I worked hard all week on this important project, and I wasn't thanked, people weren't grateful and at one point someone got mad at me because they thought I did this one thing. Of course I didn't do it, but it was really galling to be treated that way after the way I worked this week. I'm still kind of upset about it, but I know that will pass.
It was really hard this morning to be calm, but I told myself that I couldn't stay mad all day. Staying angry at work just isn't worth the emotion and energy. Short of quitting, there's really nothing I can do about my situation right now.
So I put my headphones one and listened to Jim Lampley the boxing analyst, be the guest host on the Jim Rome show. Once I did that, I felt transported and very faw away from all the dramarama that was going on in my department.
Later on in the day as I mulled the situation around and round in my head, I decided that if wasn't going to be especially appreciated for working hard and staying late then I wasn't going to stay late at work anymore. I'm not going to kill myself to get something done if people at work can't be bothered to say at least thank you for all of your hard work.
I was headed in that direction anyway, and was tired of feeling guilty for wanting to write and work out instead of work. Well, not anymore. Maybe I just needed an external excuse to convince myself, because I wasn't going to be able to make the decision on my own. Well, now the decision has been made and I'm at peace with it. It was meant to happen I think anyway.
Writing, working out and taking care of myself is what I really need to be doing. I have to work as well, but from now on I'm going to be like everyone else and leave when I'm supposed to. It's not like I'm working hard to get a promotion. I'm very content to be doing what I'm doing, and have no wish to move up any more on the corporate ladder.
I need to have time to write and work out and take care of myself. If I don't do it, who will? Certainly not the people at work. It's all good. Writing is what I should be doing, not working like a dog at work.
Today was such a bad, bad, hard day for me. Shocking really, because I didn't expect the kind of siuation to me to ever happen again. But it did, and I'm fine. I can adjust, I'm adaptable, I know how to maximize any situation I'm in to my best advantage.
Whatever. My fatalist sense tells me that I needed to have this realization so I could get my life back in balance. After all, if I was happy with my job and worked 60-80 hours weeks when would I ever find the time to write?
But I had the realization. I worked hard all week on this important project, and I wasn't thanked, people weren't grateful and at one point someone got mad at me because they thought I did this one thing. Of course I didn't do it, but it was really galling to be treated that way after the way I worked this week. I'm still kind of upset about it, but I know that will pass.
It was really hard this morning to be calm, but I told myself that I couldn't stay mad all day. Staying angry at work just isn't worth the emotion and energy. Short of quitting, there's really nothing I can do about my situation right now.
So I put my headphones one and listened to Jim Lampley the boxing analyst, be the guest host on the Jim Rome show. Once I did that, I felt transported and very faw away from all the dramarama that was going on in my department.
Later on in the day as I mulled the situation around and round in my head, I decided that if wasn't going to be especially appreciated for working hard and staying late then I wasn't going to stay late at work anymore. I'm not going to kill myself to get something done if people at work can't be bothered to say at least thank you for all of your hard work.
I was headed in that direction anyway, and was tired of feeling guilty for wanting to write and work out instead of work. Well, not anymore. Maybe I just needed an external excuse to convince myself, because I wasn't going to be able to make the decision on my own. Well, now the decision has been made and I'm at peace with it. It was meant to happen I think anyway.
Writing, working out and taking care of myself is what I really need to be doing. I have to work as well, but from now on I'm going to be like everyone else and leave when I'm supposed to. It's not like I'm working hard to get a promotion. I'm very content to be doing what I'm doing, and have no wish to move up any more on the corporate ladder.
I need to have time to write and work out and take care of myself. If I don't do it, who will? Certainly not the people at work. It's all good. Writing is what I should be doing, not working like a dog at work.
Today was such a bad, bad, hard day for me. Shocking really, because I didn't expect the kind of siuation to me to ever happen again. But it did, and I'm fine. I can adjust, I'm adaptable, I know how to maximize any situation I'm in to my best advantage.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
I sometimes unknowingly pick up people's thoughts or maybe it's just that I'm very, very perceptive and can read situatons really well. Not all the time, but just sometimes. I'd actually forgotten I could do this, but working in an office has reminded me that I have this ability.
I was feeling so jealous last week of that new guy that was getting so much work, and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I probably make double what me makes so why should it bother me that he was getting alot of work. My workload is heavy enough without wanting more.
But when I talked to the admim assistant for our group, she confided in me that she was feeling some job insecurity because of the new guy who is also a admin assistant like she is. She was afraid that her bosses might like him better, and try to boot her out. Poor kid, and she really is a young twenty something kid.
I think I was picking up the admin assistant's feelings and thoughts, and thinking they were my own. At least now I know why I was having those feelngs.
I wish I was better at shielding my mind but I'm not. It takes me awhile to figure out that I may just be picking up someone else's thoughts, but once I do I know how to rid myself of the other person so to speak. I have enough tools, have taken enough seminars, and have enough books to quickly remove thoughts and feelings that aren't my own from my head.
When I was younger it used to be really bad. I couldn't look at crippled people or people with obvious physical deformities without tapping into their pain, sadness and anger. I still remember that time I couldn't go near the Vietnam Memorial in DC because I was picking up way too many sad, sad, and painful thoughts from other people.
I have an urge to go to New York to see the 9/11 site, but I know in my heart I probably physically couldn't go near the place witout freaking out.
I wish my friend Amy was still alive. I have perceptions but I can't analyze them. I used to tell Amy about the perceptions I was having up, and she was able tap into my perceptions and analyze them so they made sense. Amy said I could analyze them if I wanted do, but I just wasn't used to doing it because she said I ignored them most of the time until they started to infringe on my own mental space.
Amy was always telling me I need to protect myself more, and learn to put up a barrier between myself and other's people thoughts and feelings. Amy said she would literally go insane if she picked up perceptions the way I did.
But I don't how to turn them off because I don't even know how I get them. I just get them. It's an inner knowing. Amy was lucky because her perceptions took the form of images in her mind. Mine come as thoughts in my head, whether their mine or somebody else's.
I'm reading over this post, and I know I'm starting to sound like a science fiction character in one of Octavia Butler's books. Most of her books are about people who have various forms of intuition. I wonder if she's an intuitive.
At least it's not that bad for me. I met a woman in college who could literally tell when things were going to happen. She kept her ability very secret, and I only found out about it because I tapped into her once and asked her about it. She said she never shared her ability with anyone because it was just too dangerous for her, even though she had learned to turn it off. She said she could pass someone by and know whether they were going to die the next moment. She hated it and feared her own powers.
I have some tapes that are supposed to harmonize your brain patterns, and I've been listening to them to help me from picking perceptions up. I'm thinking that maybe if my brain waves were more in harmony, I wouldn't be so vulnerable to other people's thoughts and feelings. It seems be working right now anway. The tapes are also great for relaxing so maybe I feel better because I'm less stressed.
I was feeling so jealous last week of that new guy that was getting so much work, and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I probably make double what me makes so why should it bother me that he was getting alot of work. My workload is heavy enough without wanting more.
But when I talked to the admim assistant for our group, she confided in me that she was feeling some job insecurity because of the new guy who is also a admin assistant like she is. She was afraid that her bosses might like him better, and try to boot her out. Poor kid, and she really is a young twenty something kid.
I think I was picking up the admin assistant's feelings and thoughts, and thinking they were my own. At least now I know why I was having those feelngs.
I wish I was better at shielding my mind but I'm not. It takes me awhile to figure out that I may just be picking up someone else's thoughts, but once I do I know how to rid myself of the other person so to speak. I have enough tools, have taken enough seminars, and have enough books to quickly remove thoughts and feelings that aren't my own from my head.
When I was younger it used to be really bad. I couldn't look at crippled people or people with obvious physical deformities without tapping into their pain, sadness and anger. I still remember that time I couldn't go near the Vietnam Memorial in DC because I was picking up way too many sad, sad, and painful thoughts from other people.
I have an urge to go to New York to see the 9/11 site, but I know in my heart I probably physically couldn't go near the place witout freaking out.
I wish my friend Amy was still alive. I have perceptions but I can't analyze them. I used to tell Amy about the perceptions I was having up, and she was able tap into my perceptions and analyze them so they made sense. Amy said I could analyze them if I wanted do, but I just wasn't used to doing it because she said I ignored them most of the time until they started to infringe on my own mental space.
Amy was always telling me I need to protect myself more, and learn to put up a barrier between myself and other's people thoughts and feelings. Amy said she would literally go insane if she picked up perceptions the way I did.
But I don't how to turn them off because I don't even know how I get them. I just get them. It's an inner knowing. Amy was lucky because her perceptions took the form of images in her mind. Mine come as thoughts in my head, whether their mine or somebody else's.
I'm reading over this post, and I know I'm starting to sound like a science fiction character in one of Octavia Butler's books. Most of her books are about people who have various forms of intuition. I wonder if she's an intuitive.
At least it's not that bad for me. I met a woman in college who could literally tell when things were going to happen. She kept her ability very secret, and I only found out about it because I tapped into her once and asked her about it. She said she never shared her ability with anyone because it was just too dangerous for her, even though she had learned to turn it off. She said she could pass someone by and know whether they were going to die the next moment. She hated it and feared her own powers.
I have some tapes that are supposed to harmonize your brain patterns, and I've been listening to them to help me from picking perceptions up. I'm thinking that maybe if my brain waves were more in harmony, I wouldn't be so vulnerable to other people's thoughts and feelings. It seems be working right now anway. The tapes are also great for relaxing so maybe I feel better because I'm less stressed.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
Maybe working long hours at work is starting to pay off. I'm off to North Carolina in June for a 3-day seminar. I love travelling to different states, even if it's just for business. I get to stay in a hotel, rack up mileage on my airline cards, eat out, and schmooze with other people.
I hope I'll have the chance to sightsee but I doubt it. The seminar starts Sunday and ends Tuesday afteroon. I hear Raleigh, North Carolina is a nice place, and I'll be staying at the Washington Duke Inn & Golf Club, which is a Four-Diamond hotel nestled in 300 acres of tall pines and hardwoods and located on the campus of Duke University.
All I know about Duke is that they've got a consistently well-run college basketball team, from my memories of my March madness gambling ventures.
Then in July, I fly down to LA for a conference. It will be a one day trip, flying in the morning and coming back at night. But at least I'm travelling, and that to me is a good thing.
I hope I'll have the chance to sightsee but I doubt it. The seminar starts Sunday and ends Tuesday afteroon. I hear Raleigh, North Carolina is a nice place, and I'll be staying at the Washington Duke Inn & Golf Club, which is a Four-Diamond hotel nestled in 300 acres of tall pines and hardwoods and located on the campus of Duke University.
All I know about Duke is that they've got a consistently well-run college basketball team, from my memories of my March madness gambling ventures.
Then in July, I fly down to LA for a conference. It will be a one day trip, flying in the morning and coming back at night. But at least I'm travelling, and that to me is a good thing.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
I continued by japanese film festival this weekend, and rented Throne of Blood by Akira Kurosawa and Zatoichi 2: The Tale of Zatoichi Continues by Kazuo Mori.
These were two great samurai movies, fully of bloody fight scenes, great samurai costumes, and lots and lots of great swordplay.
Throne of Blood is Kurosawa's adapation of Macbeth done in feudal warlord japanese history. The ending is great and very, very horrific. Kurosawa's ending scene makes Tarantino's violence in Kill Bill look very tame.
Zatoichi is just fun to watch because he's blind and still a yakuza and a great warrior, and women are always falling in love with him and telling how great he is in bed. That's so funny to me.
It's take me forever to read "A Thousand of Acres". It's hard to read a book where the characters are doing stupid things just because they can't help themselves. I have that running conversation about my own life, so why do I have to read out people doing it in their lives?
I'm reading all of Octavia Butler's books. I just finished reading Clay's Ark by Octavia Butler. Her books are much more interesting to read and much more thought provoking for me. But it's science fiction and I'm finding it's just more fun to read than regular old human drama, the kind of stuff you see as a movie on Lifetime TV.
These were two great samurai movies, fully of bloody fight scenes, great samurai costumes, and lots and lots of great swordplay.
Throne of Blood is Kurosawa's adapation of Macbeth done in feudal warlord japanese history. The ending is great and very, very horrific. Kurosawa's ending scene makes Tarantino's violence in Kill Bill look very tame.
Zatoichi is just fun to watch because he's blind and still a yakuza and a great warrior, and women are always falling in love with him and telling how great he is in bed. That's so funny to me.
It's take me forever to read "A Thousand of Acres". It's hard to read a book where the characters are doing stupid things just because they can't help themselves. I have that running conversation about my own life, so why do I have to read out people doing it in their lives?
I'm reading all of Octavia Butler's books. I just finished reading Clay's Ark by Octavia Butler. Her books are much more interesting to read and much more thought provoking for me. But it's science fiction and I'm finding it's just more fun to read than regular old human drama, the kind of stuff you see as a movie on Lifetime TV.
I had such a lazy, lazy weekend. I didn't leave the house at all on Saturday. I stayed in and cleaned and puttered around the house. I was planning to go out, but then it felt so go to be leisurely and be a bum. I did clean up and get things picked up, so at least my day wasn't completely wasted.
This morning I meant to get up to go to church, but the temptation to sleep in was just too much. I finally roused myself in the afternoon, returned my videos, went to the library to return the books I read and pick up more books that I had requested and had come in, and then did some grocery shopping.
I cooked all the food that was in the fridge, and I now have lunches prepared for four days this week. I like not having to think about what I'm going to bring or buy for lunch every day.
I finally got around to making croutons out of the loaf of country sourdough bread I bought last week. It got really hard, so I popped into the microwave to soften it up and then cut it for homemade croutons. Making homemade crouton is so time consuming, but they taste better than store bought ones.
There's an animated version of The Lord of Rings on TV that I have on in the background. I thought it might fun to watch and compare it to Peter Jackson's movie version. But now I just want to lie in bed, listen to opera arias and read.
This morning I meant to get up to go to church, but the temptation to sleep in was just too much. I finally roused myself in the afternoon, returned my videos, went to the library to return the books I read and pick up more books that I had requested and had come in, and then did some grocery shopping.
I cooked all the food that was in the fridge, and I now have lunches prepared for four days this week. I like not having to think about what I'm going to bring or buy for lunch every day.
I finally got around to making croutons out of the loaf of country sourdough bread I bought last week. It got really hard, so I popped into the microwave to soften it up and then cut it for homemade croutons. Making homemade crouton is so time consuming, but they taste better than store bought ones.
There's an animated version of The Lord of Rings on TV that I have on in the background. I thought it might fun to watch and compare it to Peter Jackson's movie version. But now I just want to lie in bed, listen to opera arias and read.
Thursday, May 20, 2004
So to make my already shitty week worse, I decided last night I would dress provocatively for my last night of film history class to please the left wing Hollywood movie professor. God only knows why because his politics exclude him from ever having a permanent role in my life, but the nasty part of me that his politics don't preclude him from summer flingie status.
Yes, thoughts about having a wild sexual flingie with my rotund extremely left wing film history professor have been popping into my head again like some kind of dangerous contagion. Like I have no idea if Mr. Hollywood Left Winger even finds me attractive, but that doesn't seem to matter to my diseased love starved brain. Okay, so the guy did come up me to last week and thank me for not being afraid to vomit my ultra conservative right wing thoughts in class, but does that mean the man is desperate to jump my creaky bones?
But back to this morning. So I put on this black knit skirt that a friend said was totally too thigh high and wore my black mary janes shoes with the two inch heels, which I decided in the middle of day are really hooker shoes in disguise. I'm not a shoe person, but I think I have a thing for liking two dollar hooker shoes.
I used to own a pair of ankle high black suede boots with a fake fur top and three inch spikey heels that I saw at a shop on Portobello Road in London. They were dirt cheap and on sale, so of course I had to buy them. I didn't seem them in the states for at least four years, and by the time they were the rage in all the stores here in San Francisco I was already bored with them.
I used to call them my hooker poodle boots or my hooker poodley boots, because the fake fur top made them look shaved poodle legs. They were scary as hell to walk in especially when going down hill, but they were so fun to wear. I even wore them to work once and got quite a few stares at work and walking through downtown San Francisco. One guy I used to date loved my shoes and concurred with my idea that they were shoes only a hooker would wear, or someone who likes to look they wear hooker shoes.
Those shoes reminded me that I used to own another pair of shoes with a strap across the ankle, which is like so hooker looking. Only these shoes didn't have heels and had thick rubber bottoms like platform shoes, so I called them my hook clodhopper shoes. They were black suede and I found them in a closeout bin at the Esprit outlet.
So I'm wearing the way too short at my age and my weight black knit skirt, black tights, my black hooker mary janes shoes with the two inch heels, a white scoop necked tshirt, and of course because I was going to work and I couldn't be too tasteless for TV, a pink cashmere cable sweater. I also had a necklace one and some earrings. But it's the two inch heels hooker mary jane shoes and the totally too short black knit skirt that gets the most attention.
And I was so uncomfortable at work with those shoes. My stride is long and when I'm wearing two inch heels I'm always on a slant and I have to take smaller steps which just freaks me out. Then I kept thinking I got weird looks from people at the office, like they were whispering that I was way too fat and my bum looked so enormous in my too tight short knit black skirt. And those hooker shoes? What's up with that?
I was so cursing myself for dressing to please a guy, something I almost never do normally, except for when I really like a guy and that's only been three times that I can remember: 1) always for Steve, the one who got away, 2) for the soccer player guy from England because he demanded I dress to please him, and 3) for my acting teacher who kept casually stating that he wished women would wear more skirts. And now I can add a fourth time for my portly Ira.
But of course since my week was stressful, today was just as stressful so that by the time I got to film history class I was in very foul mood and in no mood to talk to anyone. I kept thinking I should put a note to him in the envelope we had to give to him to mail our tests back in, which gave him my name and phone number and telling him I'd like to get together.
I mean, I could have done that couldn't I? But of course I chickened out, and rationalized to myself that I wanted to take at least two more classes from him and how would that work if I had a summer flingie with him. So no note, no conversation, and I don't think I even smiled at him because I was stressed. And then me being mad at myself the whole bus ride home because I had worn my stupid provocative outfit for nothing, and now my feet were seriously killing me.
Dressing to please a guy, what a bother! It never works out anyway. Steve, the one that got away, never appreciated it. He never know how I agonized over what I wore when we went out on dates, and how I seriously deliberated whether he would find my outfit attractive. Stupid english soccer guy never thought I dressed sexy enough for him, and stupid acting teacher guy ended up being such a new york city whiner.
And if I don't please to dress a guy, then I get comments like the ones I got from Chris, the hot as hell pretty marina jock guy, who used to obliquely chastise me for not wearing outfits that showed my rack more. And he only said that because as it turned out, the guy liked dating women with fake giant cow udder breasts. At least my rack was real.
So no fat Mr. Hollywood left winger in my bed this summer, and maybe that's a good thing I guess.
Yes, thoughts about having a wild sexual flingie with my rotund extremely left wing film history professor have been popping into my head again like some kind of dangerous contagion. Like I have no idea if Mr. Hollywood Left Winger even finds me attractive, but that doesn't seem to matter to my diseased love starved brain. Okay, so the guy did come up me to last week and thank me for not being afraid to vomit my ultra conservative right wing thoughts in class, but does that mean the man is desperate to jump my creaky bones?
But back to this morning. So I put on this black knit skirt that a friend said was totally too thigh high and wore my black mary janes shoes with the two inch heels, which I decided in the middle of day are really hooker shoes in disguise. I'm not a shoe person, but I think I have a thing for liking two dollar hooker shoes.
I used to own a pair of ankle high black suede boots with a fake fur top and three inch spikey heels that I saw at a shop on Portobello Road in London. They were dirt cheap and on sale, so of course I had to buy them. I didn't seem them in the states for at least four years, and by the time they were the rage in all the stores here in San Francisco I was already bored with them.
I used to call them my hooker poodle boots or my hooker poodley boots, because the fake fur top made them look shaved poodle legs. They were scary as hell to walk in especially when going down hill, but they were so fun to wear. I even wore them to work once and got quite a few stares at work and walking through downtown San Francisco. One guy I used to date loved my shoes and concurred with my idea that they were shoes only a hooker would wear, or someone who likes to look they wear hooker shoes.
Those shoes reminded me that I used to own another pair of shoes with a strap across the ankle, which is like so hooker looking. Only these shoes didn't have heels and had thick rubber bottoms like platform shoes, so I called them my hook clodhopper shoes. They were black suede and I found them in a closeout bin at the Esprit outlet.
So I'm wearing the way too short at my age and my weight black knit skirt, black tights, my black hooker mary janes shoes with the two inch heels, a white scoop necked tshirt, and of course because I was going to work and I couldn't be too tasteless for TV, a pink cashmere cable sweater. I also had a necklace one and some earrings. But it's the two inch heels hooker mary jane shoes and the totally too short black knit skirt that gets the most attention.
And I was so uncomfortable at work with those shoes. My stride is long and when I'm wearing two inch heels I'm always on a slant and I have to take smaller steps which just freaks me out. Then I kept thinking I got weird looks from people at the office, like they were whispering that I was way too fat and my bum looked so enormous in my too tight short knit black skirt. And those hooker shoes? What's up with that?
I was so cursing myself for dressing to please a guy, something I almost never do normally, except for when I really like a guy and that's only been three times that I can remember: 1) always for Steve, the one who got away, 2) for the soccer player guy from England because he demanded I dress to please him, and 3) for my acting teacher who kept casually stating that he wished women would wear more skirts. And now I can add a fourth time for my portly Ira.
But of course since my week was stressful, today was just as stressful so that by the time I got to film history class I was in very foul mood and in no mood to talk to anyone. I kept thinking I should put a note to him in the envelope we had to give to him to mail our tests back in, which gave him my name and phone number and telling him I'd like to get together.
I mean, I could have done that couldn't I? But of course I chickened out, and rationalized to myself that I wanted to take at least two more classes from him and how would that work if I had a summer flingie with him. So no note, no conversation, and I don't think I even smiled at him because I was stressed. And then me being mad at myself the whole bus ride home because I had worn my stupid provocative outfit for nothing, and now my feet were seriously killing me.
Dressing to please a guy, what a bother! It never works out anyway. Steve, the one that got away, never appreciated it. He never know how I agonized over what I wore when we went out on dates, and how I seriously deliberated whether he would find my outfit attractive. Stupid english soccer guy never thought I dressed sexy enough for him, and stupid acting teacher guy ended up being such a new york city whiner.
And if I don't please to dress a guy, then I get comments like the ones I got from Chris, the hot as hell pretty marina jock guy, who used to obliquely chastise me for not wearing outfits that showed my rack more. And he only said that because as it turned out, the guy liked dating women with fake giant cow udder breasts. At least my rack was real.
So no fat Mr. Hollywood left winger in my bed this summer, and maybe that's a good thing I guess.
I don't know what's wrong wtih me these days. I feel so stressed out at work. I don't know if I'm just paranoid, but maybe the honeymoon with my employer is over. I don't know. I just feel so stresed out, but I know it's not just me. Everyone around me is stressed out as well. One of my bosses had a huge red rash on his face, and when I asked him about it he said it was stress related.
I know I should feel grateful for my job, but I'm not. And that's definitely not a good thing. There's this new guy in my group, who used to be ad account manager, who is now an admin assistant. Now that's tough. I've never had it that tough. I don't envy him, and I kind of feel bad for him too. But he's a nice guy, and he's trying desperately hard to move up so he's all happy and cheery. And I envy him, and sometimes get mad at him for being so happy.
It makes me feel like I should be that way. I should be walking around all happy and grateful just to have a job, but I don't feel that way and it kind of freaks me out. Instead two months in, I feel fat, overworked, stressed and tired. One of the guys in the department said everybody new in the company looks shell shocked for the first few months, so he told me it was normal.
The ad guy who's now an admin assistant transferred from another group, and there's another new guy who was contractor for two years before they hired him in my department. The guy has a PhD from John Hopkins and he had two consult for two years before the company would hire him.
So you see, I'm not that bad off. So why do I just feel that way. I've got to fix my attitude though. I don't want it to look like I'm walking around all angry all the itme, even though that's what I feel like.
Sometimes I think I just don't work smart enough and it takes me forever to do anything, and my bosses are mentally making notes what a bad and slow worker I am. Or it takes me three times before I get something right.
I had to write an executive summary, and my boss kept sending it back saying it was too long and it needed a 30,000 foot view. I had no idea how to write the darn thing, and it was so frustrating. Finally when I saw the final copy it was just bullet points and four sentences.
My boss kept sending me emails begging me to write the cliff notes version of a 20 page presentation. She said senior execs just want to take a guick glance at was presented, and then if they wanted more info they could read the attached presentation.
I don't think I'll ever get used to writing the "30,000 foot" view. And I feel bad that I think that, and stupid and dumb as hell that it took me three hours to figure out how to write four sentences and with about four bullet points each.
I can't wait for my work week to be over. I'm starting to think I hate my job, but I haven't been in it long enough to hate it. Maybe it's just not a good fit, and I'm only now starting to realize it. Even if it wasn't a good fit, it's not like there's any place for me to go.
If there is one good thing about being back in a busy corporate office, it's how much I appreciate coming home at the end of the day and having my weekends off.
I wish I could just detach myself from my job, and just leave at 5 pm. I have to start doing that. I am definitely taking my job way too seriously, and getting all stressed out for nothing.
I've stopped writing because I'm so stressed. Thank god, I haven't stop reading. Reading is very relaxing for me. Reading feels like an escape from my dreary world. Writing used to feel that way, but now it just feels like something else I have to do, something else I have to excel in, something else I have to stress about.
I'm staring to realize that writing is really like a job. I've got keep doing it regularly to get good, and keep doing it even when I feel like total shit. This attitude feels so wrong somehow. Writing used to be so fun, so escapist for me. I used to be able to escape in my writing, and start living in the world I was writing about. I used to find it relaxing to pretend to be someone else in my writing. I've got to figure out how to bring the fun back into my writing.
I think I just figured out why my new job is less than enjoyable right now. I'm so busy that I can't enjoy the feeling of accomplishment of doing things. As soon as I finish one project, I'm on to the next project.
My old boss told me that my new company was in really bad financial times a few years ago. They were losing money and not doing well. Then they got this huge, huge contract and that really pulled them out of the red ink.
I think because the new company has gone through some hard times, it feels like they're always playing catch-up. They're always running to keep up with the competition. The new company instituted a new policy of "expecting the unreasonable". I think one of my bosses takes it too far, but it's not just her. All the managers are trying to do that. The thing is, you can only do that if you know your people really well and you're not already understaffed.
Whatever. I know my attitude about my job has to change, or I'll just be very unhappy at work. And I can't spend 8-10 hours a day feeling unhappy. I just have to figure out a way to adapt my working style to the company's without stressing myself out. Maybe that means not leaving right at 5 pm, but leaving at 5:30 pm and then not worrying about my job. It all works out anyway, and I think I've forgotten this dictum these last few days.
I have major workaholic tendencies myself, so I know I can't blame my unhappiness soley on my job. I just have to transfer my workaholicness to my writing and away from my job. I know part of my unhappiness these last few days has been because I haven't been writing. Whatever I get out of writing, it must be enough to make me go through some serious withdrawal like symptoms when I stop doing it.
This week was especially hard though because I had my film history final tonight, and I spent every night since last Friday trying to study. I worked out on Saturday and Sunday, but didnt' write. Then I spent the rest of the week studying and didn't write or work out.
That's weird isn't it? For me to think that I'm going withdrawal because I'm not writing, like writng is a drug to me. If writing is a drug, I have no idea what I'm getting out of it. What's up with that? I'm not getting any tangible benefits, but I'm going through withdrawal when I don't write. But the whole whidrawal theory so makes sense, and as soon as I came up with the thought it was as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders because it feels so good when I figure things out and it makes sense inwardly.
I know I should feel grateful for my job, but I'm not. And that's definitely not a good thing. There's this new guy in my group, who used to be ad account manager, who is now an admin assistant. Now that's tough. I've never had it that tough. I don't envy him, and I kind of feel bad for him too. But he's a nice guy, and he's trying desperately hard to move up so he's all happy and cheery. And I envy him, and sometimes get mad at him for being so happy.
It makes me feel like I should be that way. I should be walking around all happy and grateful just to have a job, but I don't feel that way and it kind of freaks me out. Instead two months in, I feel fat, overworked, stressed and tired. One of the guys in the department said everybody new in the company looks shell shocked for the first few months, so he told me it was normal.
The ad guy who's now an admin assistant transferred from another group, and there's another new guy who was contractor for two years before they hired him in my department. The guy has a PhD from John Hopkins and he had two consult for two years before the company would hire him.
So you see, I'm not that bad off. So why do I just feel that way. I've got to fix my attitude though. I don't want it to look like I'm walking around all angry all the itme, even though that's what I feel like.
Sometimes I think I just don't work smart enough and it takes me forever to do anything, and my bosses are mentally making notes what a bad and slow worker I am. Or it takes me three times before I get something right.
I had to write an executive summary, and my boss kept sending it back saying it was too long and it needed a 30,000 foot view. I had no idea how to write the darn thing, and it was so frustrating. Finally when I saw the final copy it was just bullet points and four sentences.
My boss kept sending me emails begging me to write the cliff notes version of a 20 page presentation. She said senior execs just want to take a guick glance at was presented, and then if they wanted more info they could read the attached presentation.
I don't think I'll ever get used to writing the "30,000 foot" view. And I feel bad that I think that, and stupid and dumb as hell that it took me three hours to figure out how to write four sentences and with about four bullet points each.
I can't wait for my work week to be over. I'm starting to think I hate my job, but I haven't been in it long enough to hate it. Maybe it's just not a good fit, and I'm only now starting to realize it. Even if it wasn't a good fit, it's not like there's any place for me to go.
If there is one good thing about being back in a busy corporate office, it's how much I appreciate coming home at the end of the day and having my weekends off.
I wish I could just detach myself from my job, and just leave at 5 pm. I have to start doing that. I am definitely taking my job way too seriously, and getting all stressed out for nothing.
I've stopped writing because I'm so stressed. Thank god, I haven't stop reading. Reading is very relaxing for me. Reading feels like an escape from my dreary world. Writing used to feel that way, but now it just feels like something else I have to do, something else I have to excel in, something else I have to stress about.
I'm staring to realize that writing is really like a job. I've got keep doing it regularly to get good, and keep doing it even when I feel like total shit. This attitude feels so wrong somehow. Writing used to be so fun, so escapist for me. I used to be able to escape in my writing, and start living in the world I was writing about. I used to find it relaxing to pretend to be someone else in my writing. I've got to figure out how to bring the fun back into my writing.
I think I just figured out why my new job is less than enjoyable right now. I'm so busy that I can't enjoy the feeling of accomplishment of doing things. As soon as I finish one project, I'm on to the next project.
My old boss told me that my new company was in really bad financial times a few years ago. They were losing money and not doing well. Then they got this huge, huge contract and that really pulled them out of the red ink.
I think because the new company has gone through some hard times, it feels like they're always playing catch-up. They're always running to keep up with the competition. The new company instituted a new policy of "expecting the unreasonable". I think one of my bosses takes it too far, but it's not just her. All the managers are trying to do that. The thing is, you can only do that if you know your people really well and you're not already understaffed.
Whatever. I know my attitude about my job has to change, or I'll just be very unhappy at work. And I can't spend 8-10 hours a day feeling unhappy. I just have to figure out a way to adapt my working style to the company's without stressing myself out. Maybe that means not leaving right at 5 pm, but leaving at 5:30 pm and then not worrying about my job. It all works out anyway, and I think I've forgotten this dictum these last few days.
I have major workaholic tendencies myself, so I know I can't blame my unhappiness soley on my job. I just have to transfer my workaholicness to my writing and away from my job. I know part of my unhappiness these last few days has been because I haven't been writing. Whatever I get out of writing, it must be enough to make me go through some serious withdrawal like symptoms when I stop doing it.
This week was especially hard though because I had my film history final tonight, and I spent every night since last Friday trying to study. I worked out on Saturday and Sunday, but didnt' write. Then I spent the rest of the week studying and didn't write or work out.
That's weird isn't it? For me to think that I'm going withdrawal because I'm not writing, like writng is a drug to me. If writing is a drug, I have no idea what I'm getting out of it. What's up with that? I'm not getting any tangible benefits, but I'm going through withdrawal when I don't write. But the whole whidrawal theory so makes sense, and as soon as I came up with the thought it was as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders because it feels so good when I figure things out and it makes sense inwardly.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
I had the weirdest dream this morning. I dreamt I was in a relationship with some guy I knew when I was in junior high. I was in junior high and he was a senior in highs school. I only knew him because he used to pull on my braids when he walked by me. I was 13 years old and I wore my hair in braids.
But like I was such an innocent 13 year old, that I just thought it was so annoying that some guy I didn't even know was pulling on my hair. It wasn't till I was much older did it occur to me that maybe that guy him was like flirting wtih me or something. I don't know, because there was some other guy who used to pull on my braids as well. It's still such a mystery to me.
Anyway, I think I dreamt about this guy because when I was home last summer I found out that he had run for mayor of my island and lost. The guy from junior high was really smart, and went to USC and then went on to law school.
When I first heard the story all I remembered about the guy, his name was Randall, was he was that annoying senior freak who couldn't stop pulling on my hair. I couldn't believe he had come back home, opened up his own law practice and then tried to unsuccessfully run for mayor. How bizarre is that?
In the dream, we were together but here and not at home. Only the dream was kind of fuzzy, because then Randall the laywer island guy turned into this other guy I met a few years ago who was in law school here in San Francisco. So maybe I just had a dream about marrying lawyers or something. But it was so weird to dream about that guy from junior high, because I haven't seen the boy since junior high.
Just thinking about it gives me the creeps. I was 13 years old and the guy was 17 or 18 years old and pulling on my braids. What was up with that? And my poor 13 year old did not know what the heck was going on? Not that being older makes a difference, because I'm just as foggy about men and their actions now as I was at age 13. Clueless!
But like I was such an innocent 13 year old, that I just thought it was so annoying that some guy I didn't even know was pulling on my hair. It wasn't till I was much older did it occur to me that maybe that guy him was like flirting wtih me or something. I don't know, because there was some other guy who used to pull on my braids as well. It's still such a mystery to me.
Anyway, I think I dreamt about this guy because when I was home last summer I found out that he had run for mayor of my island and lost. The guy from junior high was really smart, and went to USC and then went on to law school.
When I first heard the story all I remembered about the guy, his name was Randall, was he was that annoying senior freak who couldn't stop pulling on my hair. I couldn't believe he had come back home, opened up his own law practice and then tried to unsuccessfully run for mayor. How bizarre is that?
In the dream, we were together but here and not at home. Only the dream was kind of fuzzy, because then Randall the laywer island guy turned into this other guy I met a few years ago who was in law school here in San Francisco. So maybe I just had a dream about marrying lawyers or something. But it was so weird to dream about that guy from junior high, because I haven't seen the boy since junior high.
Just thinking about it gives me the creeps. I was 13 years old and the guy was 17 or 18 years old and pulling on my braids. What was up with that? And my poor 13 year old did not know what the heck was going on? Not that being older makes a difference, because I'm just as foggy about men and their actions now as I was at age 13. Clueless!
I finally started reading "A Thousand Acres" by Jane Smiley. I couldn't help myself, but I had to read the last chapter to see how it ended. It's a bad habit I have. I wish I didn't because now I'm disappointed. Oh well. I think I would have been disappointed whether I read the ending or not.
In the screenwriting class I took a couple of weeks ago, the Hollywood guy said that most characters in movies are very unaware. I remember sitting there and thinking that movies must be like Oprah books then, because the character in her book pick are dreadfully unaware. The characters in these books are so unaware of the consequences of their actions that all I want to do is slap them and make them get into therapy.
I mean, not that I'm not that self aware myself, but honestly the people in some of the Oprah books I've read aren't even the kind of people who would watch Oprah. What's up with that?
I'm specifically thinking of the book "House of Sand and Fog". The woman in that book was so silly to me. I was so unsympathetic to her character, that I really did not care what happened to her. I only finished the book because I wanted to find out what would happen to the persian people.
I got the same reaction from reading "White Oleander". After awhile I was like when is this character going to get it? When is she going to watch Oprah or go to the library and borrow a self help book and read it and learn?
I have a feeling "A Thousand Acres" is an Oprah book,and I'm going to end up hating the characters. I don't know this for a fact, but I've got a bad feeling about it. I just don't like characters who aren't very smart or who don't make an effort to get it together and fight against doing stupid things.
I don't know, maybe because I so relate to them and can't admit that to myself or I really can't relate to them and can't even find compassion in my heart to feel sympathy for their plight. I need characters to fight a little against their worst impulses, or at the very least, think about it a little and feel some kind of remorse. And then if they need to, give into their worst impulses, but at least go into the situation with their eyes open just a little, instead of tightly closed.
I want them to be like moths drawn to the flame, trying to fight the flame, but drawn to it nonetheless, only to get burned and die. But I think I want character to be like moths, because that's how I sometimes feel about my life. I'm that moth, and I get drawn to the flame, and I get burned, only I don't die. I get bruised as all heck, but I don't die. Not yet anyway. I just get up and keep on flying, because what else if there to do but keep going on.
In the screenwriting class I took a couple of weeks ago, the Hollywood guy said that most characters in movies are very unaware. I remember sitting there and thinking that movies must be like Oprah books then, because the character in her book pick are dreadfully unaware. The characters in these books are so unaware of the consequences of their actions that all I want to do is slap them and make them get into therapy.
I mean, not that I'm not that self aware myself, but honestly the people in some of the Oprah books I've read aren't even the kind of people who would watch Oprah. What's up with that?
I'm specifically thinking of the book "House of Sand and Fog". The woman in that book was so silly to me. I was so unsympathetic to her character, that I really did not care what happened to her. I only finished the book because I wanted to find out what would happen to the persian people.
I got the same reaction from reading "White Oleander". After awhile I was like when is this character going to get it? When is she going to watch Oprah or go to the library and borrow a self help book and read it and learn?
I have a feeling "A Thousand Acres" is an Oprah book,and I'm going to end up hating the characters. I don't know this for a fact, but I've got a bad feeling about it. I just don't like characters who aren't very smart or who don't make an effort to get it together and fight against doing stupid things.
I don't know, maybe because I so relate to them and can't admit that to myself or I really can't relate to them and can't even find compassion in my heart to feel sympathy for their plight. I need characters to fight a little against their worst impulses, or at the very least, think about it a little and feel some kind of remorse. And then if they need to, give into their worst impulses, but at least go into the situation with their eyes open just a little, instead of tightly closed.
I want them to be like moths drawn to the flame, trying to fight the flame, but drawn to it nonetheless, only to get burned and die. But I think I want character to be like moths, because that's how I sometimes feel about my life. I'm that moth, and I get drawn to the flame, and I get burned, only I don't die. I get bruised as all heck, but I don't die. Not yet anyway. I just get up and keep on flying, because what else if there to do but keep going on.
Monday, May 17, 2004
Buying clothes is much more relaxing to think about than what is going on in the news. I have been deliberately avoiding the whole Nick Berg thing, because honestly I do not want to see someone beheaded. What is point of witnessing such cruelty, especially when the reports said the idiots took a long time to do it.
Beheading was once reserved for royalty, think England for example, because you get killed quickly and relatively painlessly. Those terrorists forgot to read their instruction booklet on beheading because they completely botched the whole thing up.
Honestly! If you have to behead someone, at least do it right and don't mess around with taking too long. It's like that scene in the movie "The Green Mile", where the evil prison guard deliberately forgot to wet the sponge for the death row inmate's head. And then when they tried to fry the guy, they literally ended up frying the guy and burning his hair and head because there wasn't any water to conduct the electricity quickly and easily to kill the person.
Maybe that's the point though, it was supposed to be torture and not a mercy killing but my point is the same. Why does anyone want to watch such things? It's like people on the freeway having to slow down whenever they see an accident, because they have to see how bad it really is. How entertaining is that to see a car with people in it on fire or someone's head through a windshield or hanging bizarrely outside a car window like the neck was made of rubber.
Beheading was once reserved for royalty, think England for example, because you get killed quickly and relatively painlessly. Those terrorists forgot to read their instruction booklet on beheading because they completely botched the whole thing up.
Honestly! If you have to behead someone, at least do it right and don't mess around with taking too long. It's like that scene in the movie "The Green Mile", where the evil prison guard deliberately forgot to wet the sponge for the death row inmate's head. And then when they tried to fry the guy, they literally ended up frying the guy and burning his hair and head because there wasn't any water to conduct the electricity quickly and easily to kill the person.
Maybe that's the point though, it was supposed to be torture and not a mercy killing but my point is the same. Why does anyone want to watch such things? It's like people on the freeway having to slow down whenever they see an accident, because they have to see how bad it really is. How entertaining is that to see a car with people in it on fire or someone's head through a windshield or hanging bizarrely outside a car window like the neck was made of rubber.
Nothing much to write about other than the fact that I'm now obsessed with buying silk skirts. I just picked up two the other day, and they are so fabulous to wear for the summer. Since they're silk, they look dressy and I can wear them to parties but they're light and fun enough to wear casually as well.
The same catalog also has two more silk duponi skirts but in brown and green checks. Very gingham and so summery. I am tempted to buy them just because they're silk, but I keep hesitating because I don't own brown shoes or brown sweaters. The other two skirts matched easily to things I already owned, so the choice was easy. But brown and green?
And I don't know. Do I really want brown and green checks emphasizing the size and width of my bum? Plus I'm thinking the brown and green gingham just aren't as versatile to wear all year round and they may be a little too dressy for work but not dressy enough to wear at night. I mean gingham is so day wear!
The same catalog also has two more silk duponi skirts but in brown and green checks. Very gingham and so summery. I am tempted to buy them just because they're silk, but I keep hesitating because I don't own brown shoes or brown sweaters. The other two skirts matched easily to things I already owned, so the choice was easy. But brown and green?
And I don't know. Do I really want brown and green checks emphasizing the size and width of my bum? Plus I'm thinking the brown and green gingham just aren't as versatile to wear all year round and they may be a little too dressy for work but not dressy enough to wear at night. I mean gingham is so day wear!
Friday, May 14, 2004
My film history professor, Ira Mr. Liberal Hollywood left winger, came up to me during the break in class last night and thanked me volunteering alternative opinions during class. He said it made him think differently about things, and he was glad I made an effort to participate.
What an odd comment! Of course cynical me was thinking, are you thanking me for pointing out the left wing liberal view is not the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
We were discussing Michael Moore's latest new film and how Disney wasn't going to distribute it. And I decided to pipe up and say, but that's what happened to Mel Gibson's movie, "The Passion of the Christ". Gibson put up his own money to make the film and found his own distributor, because Hollywood wouldn't go near a "christian" movie with a 10 foot pole. But you never heard an uproar in the press about Gibson being treated unfairly in Hollywood like what you're hearing about Michael Moore.
And why is that I wonder? Because Christian films are not a 'cause du jour' for the liberal left wing media? I wanted to add that you can't just say Michael Moore, a supposed left wing nut case, gets the shaft by Hollywood without saying that so does a supposed right wing christian nut case like Mel Gibson.
But of course nobody in class wanted to say that because it's so not politically correct in San Francisco to defend anything Christian even when you know the Christian thing is being treated just as unfairly as the left wing thing. And it's that kind of hypocrisy on either side of the political spectrum that just makes me madder than a hatter.
What an odd comment! Of course cynical me was thinking, are you thanking me for pointing out the left wing liberal view is not the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
We were discussing Michael Moore's latest new film and how Disney wasn't going to distribute it. And I decided to pipe up and say, but that's what happened to Mel Gibson's movie, "The Passion of the Christ". Gibson put up his own money to make the film and found his own distributor, because Hollywood wouldn't go near a "christian" movie with a 10 foot pole. But you never heard an uproar in the press about Gibson being treated unfairly in Hollywood like what you're hearing about Michael Moore.
And why is that I wonder? Because Christian films are not a 'cause du jour' for the liberal left wing media? I wanted to add that you can't just say Michael Moore, a supposed left wing nut case, gets the shaft by Hollywood without saying that so does a supposed right wing christian nut case like Mel Gibson.
But of course nobody in class wanted to say that because it's so not politically correct in San Francisco to defend anything Christian even when you know the Christian thing is being treated just as unfairly as the left wing thing. And it's that kind of hypocrisy on either side of the political spectrum that just makes me madder than a hatter.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Sometimes I wish I could just date to date, and have fun and not be too concerned about the future. But I can't. I am this point in my life where I want to be with my true love, and if can't be with him then I'd rather be alone.
I have enough guilty conversations with myself about time and what I need to be doing, that I don't need to complicate my life even more by mindless dating. I wish I could date and not care, but I can't. Believe me, if I could change my attitude towards love I would.
It sucks to be alone, to not have companionship, to not have someone to do things with like watch football or baseball games with and just hang and drink beer and laugh and make out during the breaks. But if I can't have true love, then what's the point.
I have so many other things to occupy myself with like my writing, taking classes, reading, working out, and all the other things I manage to fill up my days with.
But wanting true love is such a hard way to go. Plus I have requirements now that I won't compromise on like our religious views have to compatible. I am so not going to live the rest of my life with a guy that I'm going to have serious religious differences with.
I will compromise to a certain extent on politics, although I draw the line at any guy who voted for Nader or other types like him. I would rather marry a loyal party republican who voted for the Shrubmeister than someone who was silly enough to go green in 2000, and who now complains about the state of the country.
But who am I kidding? When do I have time to date? I don't even have time to do the thing I most want to do which is writing, so it's not like I have any time to spend dating and getting to know someone.
I hate having this ongoing conversation in my head about not having enough time for the things that are important in my life.
I have enough guilty conversations with myself about time and what I need to be doing, that I don't need to complicate my life even more by mindless dating. I wish I could date and not care, but I can't. Believe me, if I could change my attitude towards love I would.
It sucks to be alone, to not have companionship, to not have someone to do things with like watch football or baseball games with and just hang and drink beer and laugh and make out during the breaks. But if I can't have true love, then what's the point.
I have so many other things to occupy myself with like my writing, taking classes, reading, working out, and all the other things I manage to fill up my days with.
But wanting true love is such a hard way to go. Plus I have requirements now that I won't compromise on like our religious views have to compatible. I am so not going to live the rest of my life with a guy that I'm going to have serious religious differences with.
I will compromise to a certain extent on politics, although I draw the line at any guy who voted for Nader or other types like him. I would rather marry a loyal party republican who voted for the Shrubmeister than someone who was silly enough to go green in 2000, and who now complains about the state of the country.
But who am I kidding? When do I have time to date? I don't even have time to do the thing I most want to do which is writing, so it's not like I have any time to spend dating and getting to know someone.
I hate having this ongoing conversation in my head about not having enough time for the things that are important in my life.
Monday, May 10, 2004
I've been reading again, and I'm excited. 7 books since about April I think. That's a book a week for me. Granted they're small paperbacks that I can keep in my purse, but still a book a week is good for me.
Finally made myself finish "Silas Mariner" by George Elliot. That book made me cry. I think I'm going to end up like poor old Silas Mariner one day, with no Eppie to rescue me. Sad, sad, sad!!! The ending of the book made me cry, but it's TOM time so my mones are raging. There were a couple of chapters I just skimmed because they were just dialogue, and it was hard to get through, but other than that Miss Elliot made some very good observations about life in her book.
Now I'm reading this book about a mentally ill patient's journey from insanity to sanity, called "I never promised you a rose garden". The book has reaffirmed what I've always believed, that mental illness is a defense mechanism that the brain uses to survive reality. The human body is built to survive. So if you're in a seemingly threatening situation that your mind can't handle, your mind will do things to enable you to keep going. What we call mental illness is just one of those defense mechanisms that the mind creates in order to help the body to survive traumatic events. Some events are so traumatic and scary to some people that if they didn't find a way to mentally escape, they would literally collapse and die. And yes sometimes they do, but most times a mental illness just develops.
You know how there's "fight or flight" syndrome. Mental illness is the extreme of "flight". Your mind literally collapses in on itself to flee, and creates worlds for the person to survive in, creates people to help the person survive. Of course they're all in the person's head, made up and not real, but the affected person doesn't know that.
I'm reading this book and wondering if I'm crazy, if there aren't places or things I've made up in my head to shield myself from a harsher reality. I had this same kind of feeling when I finished watching "A Beautiful Mind". I wondered for awhile if the people I knew were real or made up. Russell Crowe's character figured out that the imaginary people don't age, even when you do. But everyone I know has aged even quicker than I have, so I guess this must mean I really don't have an imaginary friend.
Finally made myself finish "Silas Mariner" by George Elliot. That book made me cry. I think I'm going to end up like poor old Silas Mariner one day, with no Eppie to rescue me. Sad, sad, sad!!! The ending of the book made me cry, but it's TOM time so my mones are raging. There were a couple of chapters I just skimmed because they were just dialogue, and it was hard to get through, but other than that Miss Elliot made some very good observations about life in her book.
Now I'm reading this book about a mentally ill patient's journey from insanity to sanity, called "I never promised you a rose garden". The book has reaffirmed what I've always believed, that mental illness is a defense mechanism that the brain uses to survive reality. The human body is built to survive. So if you're in a seemingly threatening situation that your mind can't handle, your mind will do things to enable you to keep going. What we call mental illness is just one of those defense mechanisms that the mind creates in order to help the body to survive traumatic events. Some events are so traumatic and scary to some people that if they didn't find a way to mentally escape, they would literally collapse and die. And yes sometimes they do, but most times a mental illness just develops.
You know how there's "fight or flight" syndrome. Mental illness is the extreme of "flight". Your mind literally collapses in on itself to flee, and creates worlds for the person to survive in, creates people to help the person survive. Of course they're all in the person's head, made up and not real, but the affected person doesn't know that.
I'm reading this book and wondering if I'm crazy, if there aren't places or things I've made up in my head to shield myself from a harsher reality. I had this same kind of feeling when I finished watching "A Beautiful Mind". I wondered for awhile if the people I knew were real or made up. Russell Crowe's character figured out that the imaginary people don't age, even when you do. But everyone I know has aged even quicker than I have, so I guess this must mean I really don't have an imaginary friend.
Sometimes I wonder what I do all weekend because the time seems to go by so quickly, but here's what I did.
Saturday:
Woke up late and didn't get out the door till noon
picked up drycleaning
took 3 skirts to tailor to be hemmed
went to the Asian Art Museum to have lunch and check out the exhibits. There was a great exhibit by a Thai artist, where you walked through a small temple with curtains of beads filled with herbs and incense. The smell was so cool!
worked out for 1 hour.
went through clothes hamper to get clothes read for laundry
cleaned up bedroom
Sunday:
woke up early
went to 8:45 am mass
worked out for 1 hour
went to Whole Paycheck at 4th and Harrison to buy products and have lunch
did laundry
went Trader Joe's to do grocery shopping
opened up laptop and worked on two spreadsheets for a meeting I had on Monday at work and watched Harry Potter
I know I did alot this weekend, but I have the feeling I could be doing mor. Like writing. I did no writing this weekend, which is so bad for me. I made plans on Saturday and on Sunday, but I couldn't fit it in.
I think I need to do this exercise I did in a seminar once, where you keep track of your time by the hour for a week. The purpose of the exercise was to see where your time went, and to see if there things you were doing that were either time wasters or if there were holes where you could fit something in.
I hate having a conversation in my head about time, and this is the only way to put a stop to the noise.
Saturday:
Woke up late and didn't get out the door till noon
picked up drycleaning
took 3 skirts to tailor to be hemmed
went to the Asian Art Museum to have lunch and check out the exhibits. There was a great exhibit by a Thai artist, where you walked through a small temple with curtains of beads filled with herbs and incense. The smell was so cool!
worked out for 1 hour.
went through clothes hamper to get clothes read for laundry
cleaned up bedroom
Sunday:
woke up early
went to 8:45 am mass
worked out for 1 hour
went to Whole Paycheck at 4th and Harrison to buy products and have lunch
did laundry
went Trader Joe's to do grocery shopping
opened up laptop and worked on two spreadsheets for a meeting I had on Monday at work and watched Harry Potter
I know I did alot this weekend, but I have the feeling I could be doing mor. Like writing. I did no writing this weekend, which is so bad for me. I made plans on Saturday and on Sunday, but I couldn't fit it in.
I think I need to do this exercise I did in a seminar once, where you keep track of your time by the hour for a week. The purpose of the exercise was to see where your time went, and to see if there things you were doing that were either time wasters or if there were holes where you could fit something in.
I hate having a conversation in my head about time, and this is the only way to put a stop to the noise.
Saturday, May 08, 2004
I went to Starfbombs the other day to write and ended up picking their CD of an hour's worth of Willie Nelson's most influential songs, Wille Nelson's Artist Choice. They've also got cds by Sheryl Crowe and Johnny Cash.
I seem to remember posting about this before, but since I had to do warm up exercise before my writing ... here's my artist choice pick of songs for my cd.
1. Boys Don't Cry by The Cure
2. Head by Prince
3. Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys
4. She loves You by The Beatles
5. Candy Says by The Velvet Underground
6. Man in the Box by Alice in Chains
7. Happy Shiny People by REM
8. Jane Says by Jane's Addiction
9. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd
10. Blowing in the Wind by Bob Dylan
11. Suite Judy Blue Eyes by Crosby Stills Nash and Young
12. Love Will Tear Us Apart Again by Joy Division
13. Ghetto Superstar by Pras Michel featuring ‘Ol Dirty Bastard and introducing Miya
14. Let’s Stay Together by Al Green
15. It's My life by No Doubt
16. Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin
17. Crazy for You by Madonna
18. Brown Sugar by The Rolling Stones
I think it's supposed to be an hour's worth of song, but I haven't added up the time. This list is so hard and I keep wanting to change it, but these 18 songs mean something to me. I could write a biographical short story about each song, and why it belongs on the list.
I seem to remember posting about this before, but since I had to do warm up exercise before my writing ... here's my artist choice pick of songs for my cd.
1. Boys Don't Cry by The Cure
2. Head by Prince
3. Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys
4. She loves You by The Beatles
5. Candy Says by The Velvet Underground
6. Man in the Box by Alice in Chains
7. Happy Shiny People by REM
8. Jane Says by Jane's Addiction
9. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd
10. Blowing in the Wind by Bob Dylan
11. Suite Judy Blue Eyes by Crosby Stills Nash and Young
12. Love Will Tear Us Apart Again by Joy Division
13. Ghetto Superstar by Pras Michel featuring ‘Ol Dirty Bastard and introducing Miya
14. Let’s Stay Together by Al Green
15. It's My life by No Doubt
16. Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin
17. Crazy for You by Madonna
18. Brown Sugar by The Rolling Stones
I think it's supposed to be an hour's worth of song, but I haven't added up the time. This list is so hard and I keep wanting to change it, but these 18 songs mean something to me. I could write a biographical short story about each song, and why it belongs on the list.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Today is national prayer day. If you pray, pray to whom or whatever you believe in for peace in this crazy world of ours.
So many bad headlines ....
there's a new way of transmitting SARS
some economists are predicting another bear market gas prices are going through the roof and there will be
a huge trickle effect to the price of everything else because of this
world grain production has fallen short of consumption
experts see new animal diseases hitting humans
experts keep chiming in on the likelihood of a real estate crash
then there are the wars, all the wars, and the constant threat of terror everywhere in the world.
I pray for peace. I think of all the bad things happening in the world and the bad things people are doing to other people and I release them to Holy Spirit and God's justice. I pray that people everywhere find the love and all the intimate connection they want. I pray that I'm fulfilling the divine purpose for my life. I pray the health and economic well being of all my friends and acquaintances daily. I pray that I spread love and kindness instead of hatred and unkindness in my words, deeds and thoughts and pray that everyone else do the same.
So many bad headlines ....
there's a new way of transmitting SARS
some economists are predicting another bear market gas prices are going through the roof and there will be
a huge trickle effect to the price of everything else because of this
world grain production has fallen short of consumption
experts see new animal diseases hitting humans
experts keep chiming in on the likelihood of a real estate crash
then there are the wars, all the wars, and the constant threat of terror everywhere in the world.
I pray for peace. I think of all the bad things happening in the world and the bad things people are doing to other people and I release them to Holy Spirit and God's justice. I pray that people everywhere find the love and all the intimate connection they want. I pray that I'm fulfilling the divine purpose for my life. I pray the health and economic well being of all my friends and acquaintances daily. I pray that I spread love and kindness instead of hatred and unkindness in my words, deeds and thoughts and pray that everyone else do the same.
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
There's all this talk of banning people who support abortion rights from taking communion in the catholic church. What about banning people who kept quiet about child molestor priests?
What's worse, abortion or molesting a child or teenager? Statistics say that about half the kids who were molested as children or as teenagers end up killing themselves because of what was done to them. The child molestor priest or whomever might as well have killed them with a gun.
The bible says as you sow so shall ye reap. I don't think the catholic church has right to cast the first stone at anyone as there is much hanky panky going on in their own house. The rumors say more than half the catholic priests in the USA are gay ... what was that catholic church policy and view about homosexuality again?
What's worse, abortion or molesting a child or teenager? Statistics say that about half the kids who were molested as children or as teenagers end up killing themselves because of what was done to them. The child molestor priest or whomever might as well have killed them with a gun.
The bible says as you sow so shall ye reap. I don't think the catholic church has right to cast the first stone at anyone as there is much hanky panky going on in their own house. The rumors say more than half the catholic priests in the USA are gay ... what was that catholic church policy and view about homosexuality again?
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
It was Youth Sunday at church where the teenybops lead the service. They chose the song "Here I am Lord" as the closing hymn. What a tear jerker of a song! It makes me cry every time I hear the chorus. It's such a great camp song too!
Here I am Lord
Words and Music by Daniel L Schutte
copyright 1981
Genesis 46:2
"And God spake unto Israel in the visions of the night, and said, Jacob, Jacob. And he said, Here am I."
I, the Lord of sea and sky,
I have heard my people cry.
All who dwell in dark and sin
My hand will save.
I who made the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?
Chorus: Here I am, Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my peoples pain.
I have wept for love of them.
They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my word to them.
Whom shall I send?
Repeat Chorus and try to stop from crying.
I, the Lord of wind and flame
I will tend the poor and lame
I will set a feast for them
My hand will save
Finest bread I will provide
Till their hearts be satisfied
I will give my life to them
Whom shall I send?
Repeat Chorus and cry uncontrollably!
Here I am Lord
Words and Music by Daniel L Schutte
copyright 1981
Genesis 46:2
"And God spake unto Israel in the visions of the night, and said, Jacob, Jacob. And he said, Here am I."
I, the Lord of sea and sky,
I have heard my people cry.
All who dwell in dark and sin
My hand will save.
I who made the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?
Chorus: Here I am, Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my peoples pain.
I have wept for love of them.
They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my word to them.
Whom shall I send?
Repeat Chorus and try to stop from crying.
I, the Lord of wind and flame
I will tend the poor and lame
I will set a feast for them
My hand will save
Finest bread I will provide
Till their hearts be satisfied
I will give my life to them
Whom shall I send?
Repeat Chorus and cry uncontrollably!
Monday, May 03, 2004
Here's the SFGate.com's review of "Syvlia", Morris' 'Sylvia' forgoes showy dancing for an old-fashioned, irony-free romance.
On Sunday, we saw Yuan Yuan Tan and the dancer talked about in the review. It might be fun to see it again with a different dancer.
On Sunday, we saw Yuan Yuan Tan and the dancer talked about in the review. It might be fun to see it again with a different dancer.
Then on Sunday I went to see the San Franciso ballet. I had a three-performance subscription, and this was our last one. The performance was Mark Morris' Sylvia. "Mark Morris' world premiere is the first complete staging of Sylvia ever created for an American company."
The ballet was colourful and sweet, but not very challenging for the dancers. Morris is no Balanchine, but the balled was well done. Morris is more clever and interesting than innovative I think.
Then my friend and I decided to go to Chevy's afterwards to have an early Cinco de Mayo celebration, and I had a huge mojito and we split a shrimp and crab quesadilla, which was so heavenly. I had such a nice buzz by the time I left the restaurant, that by the time I got home I was so sleepy I went straight to bed. I thought I would only take a short nap and work, but I couldn't wake myself up so I just kept on sleeping.
I did workout at my friend's health club before we went to ballet. She was showing off her snazzy new very expensive ($70/month), which is just a few blocks from her home. The health club provides towels, has a separate women's sauna, and lots of free beauty products in the locker room. There's also a nice pool for swimming laps and a racquetball court.
It was nice but that's a ton of money to pay for the club. It's good for my friend because it's such an incentive to have a gym within a five minute walk from your front door. But for me, I'd still have to drive and probably pay for parking to go to the gym there, and at their other location. Besides their gym equipment wasn't that up to date, and I didn't see free weight room.
The ballet was colourful and sweet, but not very challenging for the dancers. Morris is no Balanchine, but the balled was well done. Morris is more clever and interesting than innovative I think.
Then my friend and I decided to go to Chevy's afterwards to have an early Cinco de Mayo celebration, and I had a huge mojito and we split a shrimp and crab quesadilla, which was so heavenly. I had such a nice buzz by the time I left the restaurant, that by the time I got home I was so sleepy I went straight to bed. I thought I would only take a short nap and work, but I couldn't wake myself up so I just kept on sleeping.
I did workout at my friend's health club before we went to ballet. She was showing off her snazzy new very expensive ($70/month), which is just a few blocks from her home. The health club provides towels, has a separate women's sauna, and lots of free beauty products in the locker room. There's also a nice pool for swimming laps and a racquetball court.
It was nice but that's a ton of money to pay for the club. It's good for my friend because it's such an incentive to have a gym within a five minute walk from your front door. But for me, I'd still have to drive and probably pay for parking to go to the gym there, and at their other location. Besides their gym equipment wasn't that up to date, and I didn't see free weight room.
The weekend was so busy, I didn't even touch my work laptop. Memo to self: when you have events planned on both weekend days, it's not a good idea to bring work home because you won't have time to do it.
On Saturday, I headed down south to Palo Alto to go to a writing seminar on how to write a love story, "Michael Hauge: SEX, LIES AND LONGING: Creating Powerful Love Stories for Your Novel or Screenplay." It was probably one of the best seminars I've attended, and I learned a new way to create a plot structure.
The class was full of people who had already published their own books, were in movie development deals with Hollywood, had agents, and were way more advanced in their writing career than I am. These people were serious writers, all looking to score their first pot of gold by selling a screenplay to Hollywood.
One woman I ate lunch with had published two children's books, one non-fiction book, had an agent, an editor and a publisher, but said at the end that her writing wasn't a money-making venture. I think there were a ton of people in her shoes at the seminar. Half the people there were novelists who had switched to screenwriting or were adapting their novels for the screen because Hollywood pays more money than book publishers.
There were even a few women who stood up and said they were romance novelists. I was talking to a woman at the break who was a budding romance novelist, and telling her that I would love to be a romance novelist. I just never seem to create characters and stories that have happy endings. Even the "love story" that I'm trying to write called "Texas is a state of mind" has a bittersweet ending. The budding romance novelist said my "love story" isn't a love story if my characters don't end up in love and together at the end. Sad isn't it?
I was so inspired about my writing because of the seminar that I went to the library today, and rewrote one of my short stories to fit into his plot structure. I didn't think my short story would fit in his structure, but it did. I spend much time plotting out structure, even for a short story, so his way of plotting is not that different than what I've been doing.
Hauge's plot structure is nice because it ties up loose ends in a way I never thought possible before. He's a firm believer in character arcs, and it's a great way to structure a story that's very satisfying I think to a reader. Hauge said we could apply his plot structure to any story, and not just to screenplays.
I liked the seminar leader alot. He gave a really sweet writers pep talk at the end, which made me want to cry. He was so spiritual without ever being new agey, religious or maudlin. The guy was definitely genuine, and knew his stuff. I bought his book, which he signed and two cd-sets of his of two of his other seminars. One of the seminars was a comparison of his plot structure to Christopher Vogler, who wrote "The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers". The two of them critique each other's methods in the seminar. Vogler's book is inspired by the work of mythologist Joseph Campbell, so it will be interesting to see how the Hauge's structure compares to Joseph Campbell's hero's journey.
On Saturday, I headed down south to Palo Alto to go to a writing seminar on how to write a love story, "Michael Hauge: SEX, LIES AND LONGING: Creating Powerful Love Stories for Your Novel or Screenplay." It was probably one of the best seminars I've attended, and I learned a new way to create a plot structure.
The class was full of people who had already published their own books, were in movie development deals with Hollywood, had agents, and were way more advanced in their writing career than I am. These people were serious writers, all looking to score their first pot of gold by selling a screenplay to Hollywood.
One woman I ate lunch with had published two children's books, one non-fiction book, had an agent, an editor and a publisher, but said at the end that her writing wasn't a money-making venture. I think there were a ton of people in her shoes at the seminar. Half the people there were novelists who had switched to screenwriting or were adapting their novels for the screen because Hollywood pays more money than book publishers.
There were even a few women who stood up and said they were romance novelists. I was talking to a woman at the break who was a budding romance novelist, and telling her that I would love to be a romance novelist. I just never seem to create characters and stories that have happy endings. Even the "love story" that I'm trying to write called "Texas is a state of mind" has a bittersweet ending. The budding romance novelist said my "love story" isn't a love story if my characters don't end up in love and together at the end. Sad isn't it?
I was so inspired about my writing because of the seminar that I went to the library today, and rewrote one of my short stories to fit into his plot structure. I didn't think my short story would fit in his structure, but it did. I spend much time plotting out structure, even for a short story, so his way of plotting is not that different than what I've been doing.
Hauge's plot structure is nice because it ties up loose ends in a way I never thought possible before. He's a firm believer in character arcs, and it's a great way to structure a story that's very satisfying I think to a reader. Hauge said we could apply his plot structure to any story, and not just to screenplays.
I liked the seminar leader alot. He gave a really sweet writers pep talk at the end, which made me want to cry. He was so spiritual without ever being new agey, religious or maudlin. The guy was definitely genuine, and knew his stuff. I bought his book, which he signed and two cd-sets of his of two of his other seminars. One of the seminars was a comparison of his plot structure to Christopher Vogler, who wrote "The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers". The two of them critique each other's methods in the seminar. Vogler's book is inspired by the work of mythologist Joseph Campbell, so it will be interesting to see how the Hauge's structure compares to Joseph Campbell's hero's journey.
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