Sunday, February 3, 2013

Scorned: Love Kills (and other dramatic titles)

While visiting my home town, I became privy to my mother's latest addiction: Investigation.Discovery, aka the ID channel.  She has reached the point of throwing middle-aged temper tantrums whenever anyone attempts to change the channel, so it's true crime specials all day err'day in my childhood home.

As part of the resulting paranoia frenzy, my mom has begun initiating conversations with phrases such as, "When I get murdered, do you swear to appear on the ID documentary?" and "Come on, these people are idiots! I totally would have gotten away with it." I'm only a little bit concerned.

Throughout the hundred or so true crime specials that I sat through, I couldn't help but ask myself what I would do if I witnessed something that could potentially be a crime. There were so many witnesses that called the police when they were only slightly suspicious, and I wasn't sure if I was the type of person who would take action like that.

These thoughts came swirling back through my mind in a panic last night, when I awoke to hear a woman screaming. Despite feeling hesitant, I dialed 911 and made what I can't help but worry was a uselessly vague report. I was able to give them my address, and the fact that someone was screaming in an unknown location somewhere within my earshot. Seriously, it was impossible to tell where it was coming from... it sounded relatively far-off, but I have no idea in what direction.

I can't stop thinking about it.  I don't know what was happening, but I have never experienced a silence as eerie as when the screaming stopped. Obviously it completely freaked me out... all I want is for the mystery woman to be okay, but I'll never know for sure.

Sorry for the serious post... I just needed to talk about it, because oh my god.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

It's nice to be nice.

I should probably make a doctor's appointment, because I am seriously homesick.  My nose is stuffy with the missing-my-mommy virus, my throat hurts from worked-over-the-holidays bacteria, and I have a bad case of need-to-hug-my-dog-right-now-itis. Also, I'm cheesy... what's new?

Anyway, whenever I am missing the bustling metropolis of suburban Indiana, I make my best friend a mixed CD.  Picture the sappiest romantic you have ever met, throw up hearts and unicorns a few times, and you'll have my dear Hannah.  Accumulating quirky love songs for her repertoire has honestly become a hobby of mine... anytime I'm spending a few frivolous dollars on iTunes, I search for songs that it would never even occur to me to listen to on my own, just because I can picture her dancing dorkily along with the beat.  Nothing makes her happier than receiving a new mix of disgusting cuteness, but I can't pretend that I do it because I'm just such a giving, saintly person.  Making these mixes makes me feel close to her, even when we're thousands of miles apart and haven't talked in weeks.  Hooray for friendship. <3

Wait. OH MY GOD I'M GOING HOME NEXT WEEK OH MY GOD.  It is finally starting to feel real to me that I'll actually be seeing my loved ones in seven days, and I can't even believe it. It has been so long.

I'm all for independence and everything, but who says you can't be an adult and have your mother at your side at all times? I just don't see how the two are mutually exclusive.


You know, I always expected my first year of adulthood to be a game-changer, and holy shit did 2012 come through for me.  The only way it could have been a crazier year would be if I had literally run away and joined the circus.

- My year started off with a San Francisco-shaped bang.  My gift for my 18th birthday was a trip to California, and I loved absolutely everything about it.  I could definitely see myself living in SF someday.

- I graduated high school! There isn't much to say about this... the endless essays were enough of a bitch the first time around, without dwelling on additional words here.

- ... I may or may not have gotten arrested for doing something really, really, REALLY dumb that I probably shouldn't publish on the internet. Hooray for new experiences?

- The entirety of my June was spent in Tanzania. I helped build a schoolhouse, got charged at by baboons, growled at by a wild lioness not five feet away from me, and had a bat land on my foot. Not to mention the eye infection... god, what a phenomenal trip.

- When I got back to the good ole first world, I started working at an independent film theatre. This is notable for the simple reason that it was THE ABSOLUTE BEST JOB EVER. I loved everything about it... the people, the perks, the job itself.  Five stars, five stars.

- I met my best friend on a four hour flight.  In the five months since, I haven't gone a day without talking to him in some medium.  He is the single weirdest (and most fun) aspect of my life.

- I moved across the country to a city where I didn't know a single person. It was a huge gamble, obviously, but Seattle turned out to be the best decision I have ever made.  It turns out I thrive in my own little studio apartment, with my own job, making my own decisions and paying my own finances. Who woulda thunk it?

- I started volunteering at the Burke Museum, handling and cataloguing artifacts such as a five thousand year old whale vertebrae.  Holding history in your hand is such a lovely mindfuck, to put it delicately.

- Banana Republic became the sun that my world revolves around. Seriously, I had no idea that working in retail could be such a bitch.

- I watched 375 films, 271 of which I had never seen before. 53 were in cinemas, and seven were midnight premieres.

- I read 55 books.

- The world survived 365 more days, despite our best intentions.

Not everything about my year was a peachy keen delight, but it sure as hell wasn't boring.  If 2013 is half as interesting, I'll count it a success.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Midnight Showings

I just came home from the midnight premiere of the film adaptation of The Hunger Games, and my expectations were actually exceeded.  However, that is not what I'm dying to ramble about.

So. Midnight showings are a thing that happen.  I had not attended one in over a year and a half, but tonight reminded me of just how different they are as a viewing experience.  The air is filled with passion and enthusiasm that feels almost tangible, and fans adorn themselves in costumes as if it is a particularly nerdy Halloween.  Throughout the previews, the audience can't seem to keep themselves from chattering as an outlet of their excitement, but silence falls like a veil as soon as the opening credits begin.  It's honestly magical. 

As much as I adore it, my favorite aspect of midnight showings isn't the sense of camaraderie, but rather how my mind is a clean slate.  There are no spoilers or reviews to give me any sense of positive or negative prejudice.  I am watching the film for the first time alongside millions of others in similar theaters, which for some reason is an idea that I find incredibly cool.  

With that said, here is a list of midnight viewings that I plan to attend this year:

  • The Hunger Games
  • The Avengers
  • Snow White and the Huntsman
  • Prometheus
  • The Amazing Spiderman
  • The Dark Knight Rises
  • The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
... I don't have a thing for superhero films, at all.  Clearly.

Monday, January 23, 2012

I'm a biter.

Let me ask you a question: how aware are you of your fingernails?

Mine might as well have a pulse.  I think about them every waking second of every day.  There they are, just chilling at the ends of my fingers, taunting me.  I might as well be a recovering alcoholic with a glass of wine in my hand, debating on whether or not I have the strength to resist the temptation.

Perhaps I should back up a bit... here's the deal: I am a lifelong nail biter.  That is eighteen years worth of a bad habit (give or take the time it took for me to grow teeth).  For as long as I can remember, my response to nearly every situation has been to chew on my fingers. Whether I was nervous, bored, excited, pensive, or feeling any sort of conscious emotion at all, my teeth took it out on my phalanges.  Seriously.  It was a problem.  I didn't have any fingernails to speak of, my cuticles were bloody, and the skin where the nails should have been was constantly growing slightly infected.

I bring this up now because approximately five weeks ago, I stopped.  There I was, essentially devouring one of my own fingers as a snack, when I decided that I was finished with being such a disgusting person.  I immediately went to the drugstore, bought this overpriced nail strengthener stuff and a bottle of clear polish, and never looked back.  Not once have I nibbled on a nail since that fateful day.

And it's killing me.  Kicking a lifelong habit requires a ridiculous level of determination and self-discipline.  To be honest, I couldn't have done it without beginning a couple of crutch habits; I have to apply a new coat of nail polish daily, so that I can pick off the old polish.  This eases whatever weird mental craving I have for the destruction of all that is fingernails.

Whatever.  I'm still proud of myself.  Go ahead and judge me if you must.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Resolutions... or not

My feelings regarding resolutions are rather split.  On the one hand, I don't find them very conducive to actual self-growth.  People spend January 1st in a hangover coma, then move into resolution overdrive mode for about four days.  But by the end of January at the latest, resolutions have inevitably evolved into sarcastic jokes.  "Oh hey, I see you have a soda can there.  I assume it's actually filled with water, because there is no way you would ever fail your resolution this early." Har har har.

Anyway, I have never been a huge supporter of New Year's resolutions for that reason.  They tend to run parallel to saying, "I'll start studying at 5," then glancing at the clock and realizing it is 5:02.  "Oh darn, I missed it.  I guess I'll just have to start at 5:30."  Resolutions are the melodramatic equivalent; in February, it ends up being, "Shit.  I guess I'll just have to lose five pounds next year," and then eating cupcakes for ten months straight... or, you know, maybe not.  

If you want to actually improve something about yourself, set realistic goals and work on it, no matter the time of year.  Waiting until New Years rolls around is just a festive form of procrastination. 

That said, today I have spent a good half hour watching YouTube videos in which people determine whether or not they actually accomplished their resolutions for 2011.  I ended up reconsidering my entire perspective on resolutions, because I found that I really like the concept of being able to measure goal accomplishments within a certain time period.  It's just that resolutions are pointless without legitimate dedication, and they can't be too vague. 

With that in mind, in 2012 I want to:

  • stop biting my nails. 
  • have at least $10,000 in my savings account. 
  • stop being such a pussy about talking to my dad/ have a year of independence. 
  • exercise for at least an hour every day. 
  • complete the 50 book challenge again.
  • win NaNoWriMo again.
  • keep up with my archive journals. 
  • make at least one video a month (ideally more).  
  • make more friends hooray (I don't know how to make that less vague).
  • milk a cow. 
  • see at least one of my friends from Dominica in person. 

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

I'm baaaaaaaack (in a scary, Halloween-type voice)

... so. Um. It's been a while.

I have a million and one excuses for why I haven't blogged in four months. Both of my parents moved into new houses, and instead of hiring professional movers, they had me do most of the muscle work.  I have three part-time jobs, and am about to interview for a fourth one.  Instead of graduating in May of 2012, I am completing both semesters of my senior year simultaneously so that I can graduate at the end of December this year.  And yet, if I'm being completely honest, none of these are the real reason why I have been neglecting my internet outlets.

The truth is, I have been feeling really shitty. As in, my mood swings could rival a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy.  I'm stressed out for obvious reasons, and it doesn't help that the relationships most dear to me have been falling apart for months now.  Whenever I even begin to think about my life, all I want to do is complain, and that is not why I have this blog.  I refuse to be the poster child for teenage angst; I fully recognize that my life is awesome.  As an incredibly fortunate person, there is no excuse for me to bitch to the internet about how much life sucks.

In my leave of absence, I consumed three tubs of frosting (minus the cake).  In other words, I gained about seven pounds and my face is full of acne.  The point of this post is that I'm ready.  I'm ready to lose those pounds that purely consist of chocolate and cream cheese frosting, get rid of my clogged pores, and improve my attitude.  Cool things happen to me all the time, and what can I say? I'm a narcissist.  I want to talk about them.

Man, it feels good to be back. xx