"It's all about the triumph of intellect and romance over brute force and cynicism." Okay, so that's Craig Ferguson talking about Doctor Who, but this blog endeavors exactly that. Lofty yes, but what the hell, why not. Onward, my romantic intellectual companions!
A Minnesota senator, OUR AMY KLOBUCHAR, supports it.
Really, guys? REALLY?
I don't know if it would actually block Facebook and Twitter from US users. I can't seem to find any articles to support that. However, I can find a website about American Censorship Day, claiming that Facebook will be gone from my life. Along with Twitter, Tumblr, Megavideo - no more Doctor Who and Torchwood! :( - and no YouTube. Not to mention that it seems this blog will cease to exist. Did I make the gifs I put on here? Did I take the photos (some of them, yes). But overall, nada. Call me a pirate. Me and like 90 some percent of my generation.
If this is real, then my creative outlets, innovation sites and business tools are kaput. My hopes of finding an outlet to practice writing, create a web presence and beef up a resume are gone. The chance of aspiring musicians, actors, entertainers, etc to express themselves and post their work will be made far more difficult to attain. So we watch TV shows for free and we sing covers of our favorite songs - guess what? I bet for every song we sing and TV show we watch, we BUY something that compensates. Yes, I watch Torchwood on Megavideo. But I'm planning on buying the seasons and I buy other merch. So we consumers are still buying stuff, if that's your worry. We're not going to fuck you over, music/movie/media industries. We LIKE you. We buy stuff, we do. We respect what you do. We just don't like spending loads of money for single songs, TV seasons, cable. And if you haven't noticed, American TV is ridiculous and Netflix has decided to suck. So... can you really blame us?
I don't like censorship. Lemme just make that clear. I don't usually get super in-your-face political, but this is something I really care about. I love how accessible the internet is - anyone can post anything. Yes, that causes problems - LOTS of problems. But seriously, I think this is the least of your worries. Could you maybe work on catching people who post child porn or something? That seems a little more vital to the integrity of our country than, you know, the guy at the U of such-and-such downloading a Katy Perry song for free. IMHO.
So if you happen to be as outraged as me and worried just enough that this totally legitimate, visit the American Censorship Day website and sign their petition. Let's just hope this is just a lot of ruckus over something that won't pass, that we've overblown into a monstrosity. But these days - who knows?
I can't tell if I'm going more anarchist or more libertarian. God help us all if I become either one.
Found this opinion article in the Minnesota Daily today: Age is a disease.
As my professor Robin always says, "I love it when life hands me exactly what I'm looking for." Indeed this was the case today.
Oh, college newspapers... you always have such interesting articles. Especially ones that take concepts expressed in Hollywood films and connects them to real life. I feel torn between this article. I mean, obviously, the writer makes an interesting point. But I just can't align myself to his way of thinking. Age just a disease? Maybe I'm being too fatalistic here, but I don't think you can avoid death. I'm not so sure you should.
Don't get me wrong - I'm as terrified of dying as the next person. But something in the back of my head clamors about Doctor Frankenstein and playing God and that maybe science can go too far. But other species die. All animals die. Why are we the ones to change it? I'm not saying there couldn't be an answer to this... but it just seems difficult to overcome.
I guess what fascinates me most about this article is that it deals with senescence ("the accumulation of damage to a person's body over time," the writer describes). Which, in my novel attempt, that's exactly what the people who become immortal have lost - their bodies no longer age and they remain where they are, "a fixed point in time and space," I believe are the words Doctor Who would use. It's an interesting, double-edged sword, both wonderful and terrible. Living forever would be great - or would it? The novel Tuck Everlasting shows other wise and Doctor Who and Torchwood certainly shows the downsides. And the writer of this article engages a debate with the movie In Time's approach to dealing with over-population. But could the solution to curing diseases like cancer and Alzheimer's really be found through such a route as dealing with senescence? Is that really the best path to take?
Last night, I participated in an event I intended to brag about, as only a culture vulture can - I attended the world premiere of a new opera. Silent Night is a new work based off of the French movie by the same name, about the seize fire in World War I held over the Christmas of 1914. It's about the French, Scottish and German forces in this battle who came together over this holiday and found peace amongst the chaos of war.
Honestly, the Minnesota Opera couldn't have chosen a better night to premiere it than the day after Veterans Day. It was absolutely fantastic to see all of the service men and women in their dress uniforms at the show - it added an added element of importance and significance to the event.
Now, when it comes to opera, I'm very wet behind the ears. I've actually only been to the opera once before and all I know about the art form comes from my combined knowledge of musical training and Italian. That's not to say I know NOTHING about opera - I know a bit. I'm just not an aficionado. Broadway shows will always be my preferred form of musical theater, but this show certainly gave me a new appreciation for opera. The scenery, the storyline, the portrayal itself - it was all brilliant. Karin Wolverton, the soprano who played Anna Sorensen, sang wonderfully and performed an absolutely marvelous aria towards the end of the first act - it was truly my favorite part of the show.
Unfortunately, the tenor who sang the part of Nikolaus Sprink, William Burden, contracted laryngitis the day of the show and couldn't sing. So, while he walked the stage, a former resident of the Opera, Brad Benoit (an audience favorite, it seemed) sang offstage. It was a little odd to see someone acting and having the voice reverberating from stage left, but it worked. The two worked well together and, while I feel dreadfully sorry that Burden couldn't sing for the premiere, I'm glad he was still able to perform the part.
Being able to attend a world premiere still boggles my mind. Walking in and seeing the spotlights shining into the night sky outside, seeing a group of kilted bagpipers walk outside to perform for the arriving audience, being surrounded by people impeccably dressed (more so than any other theater show I've attended) and hearing accents of those who had traveled a long way to see a premiere all emphasized that this was a special night in Twin City theater. But what really hit home for me was the singing of the national anthem at the beginning of the show. Afterwards, [Львица] turned to me and said, "That was the best I've ever sung in my life... I feel like I was a part of the opera there." I felt exactly the same.
Today, for like the third time this month, my professor in my CSCL class went on a tirade about Baudelaire and Flaubert. Okay, tirade is unfair - that makes it sound like he doesn't have a point. He does have a point - it's just a very angry, bitter one.
In the realm of culture, we've been talking about how, allegedly, writers such as Baudelaire and Flaubert are hypocrites. They are not writing a critique of bourgeois life - instead, they pull towards preferring Romantic fiction over modern life. Though a student in my class argued that by showing crisis, that having love fail and Bovary die and torment and tormenting that they are working through this crisis of modern live versus Romantic fiction. My professor disagreed and instead said that Flaubert despised his audience and that his prose was designed to be mistaken for realism, that the "novel in the end is about the creation of beautiful sentences" and "opaque prose, free of indirect discourse" with an omniscient narrator that is actually prejudiced by the characters. What seems to be a critique actually trumps us, tricks us, and is not what it seems to be.
This is the point in my notes where I wrote: OMG... how the hell can I be a novelist with this shit?
Now, I haven't read Baudelaire. And I don't recall much of Madame Bovary, unfortunately - it was one of those novels I tried reading during AP Literature my senior year in high school and I just didn't have the time to actually read it - it was sadly more of a skimming process. Yes, I know, shame on me. Senior year was a nightmare, though. Point is, I can't really argue whether or not Flaubert writes in such a way. What I can argue is what I know as a writer. And boy, oh, boy - do I dislike what my professor has to say.
For one, what writer actually hates his audience? Who DOES that? Okay, so Flaubert might have, I don't actually know. But here's the point that another student made that I really agree with - at least with our personal interpretation of the novel, does it matter what Flaubert thinks, what he was aiming at, what he was trying to do? Not so much - what matters is what we come away with. And if we think that it happens to show a different message than what Flaubert intended, we can reshape it's purposes. Our professor agreed with this in a "yes, but..." kind of way, and then went on a tangent about Ulysses, which I didn't understand because I haven't read it yet (sometimes I feel like the only person in that class who hasn't read every classic novel ever, but I think that's just me. Nevertheless, I feel like I'm failing in some way. But please tell me when I'm supposed to have time to read it).
For another, does our endless critiquing of EVERYTHING really get us anywhere? Does insulting Baudelaire and Flaubert really help us get a better understanding of culture? I don't think so. What happens when we feel like we have to critique everything all the time and we can't just ENJOY something any more? I'm worried that I won't be able to read a novel now without wondering if it's just trying to sweep me off to a fantasy world and make me forget about present reality (which it of course it's doing in some ways - isn't that the point? But apparently that's a terrible thing now...) According to my professor, there's something wrong with "art for art's sake" - but is it, REALLY? In every situation, at all times? I don't think so. I'm sure my professor would have really good come-backs for all of this, and maybe he's right... but I just feel like I'm being pushed towards the whole "everything you know is wrong" - which is NOT what I understood cultural studies to be, when I started this excursion in my past classes.
Also, I have a personal motivation in this topic. If I write a book and I am so lucky and blessed as to have it published and people actually read it, the first person to tell me that I am not realistically portraying life is going to get smacked. THERE'S A REASON I'M WRITING IT THE WAY I AM. And I certainly don't hate my audience. Maybe, in just a few situations, things need to be unrealistic. I don't care if I'm the only CSCL student in the world who will defend fantasy and sci-fi and the purpose of some fiction, but GODDAMN, the only thing I want to do right now is sit back and watch Doctor Who instead of wondering if my writing is actually destroying the world because I'm just perpetuating stereotypes and running away from problems instead of working through them. Well, I can't watch Doctor Who tonight - so this is one problem I'm just going to have to think through.
[Львица] kindly reminded me today that it's only 10 days until my 21st birthday. Which I knew, but hadn't consciously been cognizant of. Which is a fancy way of saying, Holy fuck, it's nearly my birthday and I've been so busy trying not to think about it and get ridiculously over excited that I actually kind of forgot for a moment.
So yeah. 21 on November 19th. It's gonna be THE SHIT. Finally I can legally drink. Finally I can have that Guinness I've been longing to have at a pub ever since I left part of my soul in Glasgow. And finally, I can stop worrying about what people have got planned for me. Seriously, last year I got a secret cake and an epic Ewan McGregor card and a Trainspotting poster. It was pretty much ridiculously awesome. Today, I had to wait outside the apartment while [Львица] was telling her father about... whatever the gift is. And now I'm insanely curious. 10 days. And all shall be revealed.
So between writing about [uber gay] and writing about the Saloon, I ran into a term that I'd heard before but never in context. After coming across a website that defined it, I got kind of upset. So this post is going to be all about "fag hags."
Here's one of the Urban Dictionary definitions just so we've really got it down:
You Are A True Fag Hag If...
-You are a straight girl who has a best friend who is gay and spends a lot of time together
-You would rather go to a gay club than a straight club
-Your fag gave you your own drag name
-You know all the gay guys at the local gay bar
-Your fag takes you shopping for mac makeup and then puts it on you
-Your hair and makeup are always flawless
-You dress up in his drag gear on saturday night or dress in drag together
-You even dance with all the fags on stage when Britney Spears comes on
-You learned to vouge from watching your fag
-You fall in love with your fag (which is a bad thing)
-You try to convert your fag (this will only ruin your relationship with him)
And lastly... you find your self not being able to live without him because you have so much fun with him.
Or, for simplicity's sake:
A woman who likes the company of gay men. It can be affectionate or offensive, depending on the usage.
Poor Grace... she has no idea what she's wrought.
Sometimes I hate culture. Really I do.
I mean, how do you even BEGIN to deal with this? For one, I LOATHE the word fag. Mostly because when I was younger, I rarely heard it come out of someone's mouth who wasn't being offensive. Perhaps since then there has a been a "reclamation" of the term and thus has gained a non-offensive connotation. But I still hate it.
Also, I'm going to be an uber feminist for a moment and express how much I hate the word hag. While the history of the word is a mix of connotations between friendly witches and creepy, nightmarish women, the latter meaning has stuck more. So as funny as the two words sound together, it still pisses me off. And "queer deer" or "fruit fly" aren't too complementary either.
The problem is, I'm sure there are some pretty legit reasons for wanting to call someone a "fag hag." Trying to convert a gay man into a straight man smacks of such misunderstanding of sexuality that it makes me want to scream. But creating such a name doesn't sound so great either. Not to mention calling every girl who has a close gay friend a "fag hag" is ridiculous - that's like half the women I know. Plus who said the girl had to be straight? What, lesbians can't be friends with gay men? And referring to a person's friend who happens to be gay as "your fag" creates this whole weird ownership thing. Which is degrading, to say the least.
OK, seriously, I know this is just Urban Dictionary and not the authority on modern lexicon, but who wrote this entry? Who said all gay men like going shopping? Who said a girl with flawless makeup and hair MUST be BFFs with only gay men? Better yet, WHO STILL LISTENS TO BRITNEY SPEARS? Ok, that's harsh, she has made quite a comeback.
I should probably just let this slide and accept that this term is what is. I've done that. But sometimes, I just need to complain.
My point is, generalizing works in some situations. THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE SITUATIONS. You can just sum up everyone with a cute little term - culture is WAY more complex than this. Please, for the sake of humanity, stop assuming that every girl who has a friend who is gay is exactly the same. Please stop assuming that all gay men act the same way. Please try to stop being so stereotypical without being obsessively politically correct and then we can all just relax and enjoy life and the Doctor can dance and EVERYBODY LIVES.
Yes, that was a Doctor Who reference. Sue me. I need something to fall back on so I don't go on a total feminist rant. I'll save that for later.
So Sunday night I spent one evening not being a good little student and studying for shit (because, really, eight hours spent on one midterm is far too much). So I went with [Львица] and [save the panzer] to the Saloon. I've mentioned it before - it was the gay bar we went to after La Cage Aux Folles. Unfortunately, now I can't get the song "Gay Bar" by Electric Six out of my head, and it's sort of distracting.
My shoes :D WIN
Anyway, I decided I would wear my new ridiculous glittery dress that I bought at Forever 21 before Halloween. And damn - it was a hit. A guy approached me and asked why I was so glittery and wanted to trade outfits. Another guy on the dance floor began dancing with me and complimented my attire and his friend complimented my shoes (okay, the shoes were pretty kickass. The fact that I was actually able to dance and stand and MOVE in them at all totally blows my mind). And when the guy who danced with me left the bar, he came up to me and said, "Keep wearing dresses like that and you'll be good to go."
It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I felt on top of the world the rest of the night and the better part of Monday. Perhaps only gay men can appreciate the awesomeness of a sparkly dress. But I think it wouldn't hurt straight men to work on their compliments. I mean, even [save the panzer]'s somewhat obnoxious friend [tower of babble] called me gorgeous and gave me some pleasant compliments (I think he also might have went into a tangent about how if he weren't gay, he'd sleep with me... which was awkward. And after he discovered I wasn't a lesbian, he also volunteered to be my wing man at the bar. Which kind of baffled me - why would you, as a gay man, try and hook a straight girl up with a guy in a bar THAT IS PREDOMINATELY FULL OF GAY MEN? Regardless, I appreciate his enthusiasm). Given all of that, I don't know if you could consider [tower of babble]'s compliments totally sincere, but you know, I'll take it. It's the second time I've been called gorgeous by a gay man (the other time was in Scotland, by one of the students.) You know how many times I've been called beautiful or gorgeous by a straight man? NEVER.
See what you're competing with, straight men? Either you need to step up your game or I need to reassess my priorities. Or I need to stop meeting dumb guys who make the straight male population look bad. And so my promotion of being undateable continues...
I found this pic on Facebook the other day and I felt like sharing it with the world :) It's of my dear friend [uber gay] who I've known since fifth grade, posing for a class project [X] and [shortage of perfect breasts] made WAY back when (so like three or four years ago. Yeah, like that was so long ago, right?)
I miss [uber gay]. I really do. I wrote this post about him last year for my science and culture class and I thought I'd revamp it and share it, especially as he's been on my mind a lot lately. [Львица] and I are hoping to go visit him over spring break and I happen to have a character kind-of, sort-of based off of him in my time travel novel. So, here's a short history, and a short psychological study, of my friendship with [uber gay]:
Whenever I think of science, my thoughts often
travel to [uber gay], a meteorology major in Florida. We met
in fifth grade, right after I’d moved to Minnesota. He’d been sick for
the first week I’d spent in class and he’d forgotten that there was a
“new girl” there. When he finally came back, he spent the first half
hour staring at the back of my head. It was utterly creepy and
irritating. Oddly enough, we became close friends.
This is at the Mayo Clinic, not that far away from me. They've developed something that slows down aging in mice, which is pretty remarkable, to say the least. It's weird, and crazy and... wow. I didn't think anything like this would be... well, created in my life time. Yes, it's just in the lab... but still.
It's just... complicated. After immersing myself in ideas of life, death, immortality and all that jazz while writing my story about time travel, something like this could be the best thing and the most awful thing in the world. Something to keep an eye on, that's for sure.
Yep, it's that time of year for college students: the dreaded midterm. Except, here at the U, every exam is called a midterm, so you end up having like four midterms and a final. It's kind of dumb. However, this week is time for my LEGIT midterms, such as one of only two take-home exams for my cultural studies class and the second of three terrifying sensation and perception psych tests. Which means I have to work my ass off this weekend to get everything done. And not get distracted and watch Doctor Who.
When I was little, my parents were amazed how much I talked after school got out, because I was quite during the day but had loads to say when I got home. I used to say I had too many words in my mouth.
That's apparently still a problem. Sorry about the longs posts... I'll try to amend that in the future.
But no promises. I'm still a wordy little weirdo :D
I've been writing a bit out of order, so a little bit of time travel here and we're going back to BEFORE I spoke to Mr. L.A. last night. Because, before all that, I had a band concert.
I had forgotten how much I enjoy being onstage. Not onstage in the theatrical sense - I've never done that, actually. But being onstage in a musical sense. There's something about sitting underneath all of those lights, with the prim black stands and perfectly aligned rows of chairs with a collective group all wearing black that's...purely magical. It's one of the few times where I dress up in my life, in a dress and hose and heels and don't stand out as over-dressed. There's something so regal, so artistic, yet so simple about concerts I always love experiencing. It makes me wish all parts of rehearsal and music studying were so grand.
When I started college, I'd come here to be a music major. It's easier for me to forget that now, after a year away from band and now that I've stopped taking flute lessons. But I very much wanted to be a music teacher. I actually really, really wanted to be a good enough to be a performance major, in order to play in a pit orchestra, as that had been my favorite part of performing in high school. But I knew I didn't have the talent for that. So I thought going for a music education degree would be easier. I was wrong of course - it takes talent, and fortitude and a hell of a lot of patience. And a music department that gives a damn.
I'm sure the U has a great music department... somewhere. It did, several years ago. But now... I don't know. I went through the audition process here to join the School of Music and found it very... not what I was expecting. There wasn't a focus on growth; there was a focus on perfection coming in. Which I felt was all wrong. Music isn't about perfection, it's about working through changes, practicing, arriving at greatness. Not all of us should have to be instant prodigies. But I felt that's all they wanted - prodigies. Not to mention they totally messed up - one of the people who was supposed to watch my performance part of the audition couldn't make it, so they taped me (something I had thought was NEVER supposed to be done for an audition) in order for the professor to watch me later. Except I think something went awry there, because after six weeks, I hadn't heard whether I'd been accepted or not. I emailed the school and they said something about the tape not being watched yet. Then two weeks later I found I hadn't been excepted. I didn't want to at this point; I hadn't been treated very well by the school's faculty. But it was like adding insult to injury.
I'm still quite bitter about it and things are just strange now, playing with the bands here. It's different, now that I'm not playing for a career - better, actually, as I'm a stronger player now. But there's less incentive for me to take band, especially as the music is far too easy for me and it's just not the same experiences as I had in high school (I'll never have a director better than the one I had at Lakeville South; it just won't happen. Trust me). But for a moment, the magic and wonder I have of making music returns during the concerts... the sort of magic I get when a curtain rises on a play, when a movie begins. The moment a creation is unveiled to an audience, an audience that could hold anyone in the world. I'm not doing this justice but I wish I could put into words what I feel when I walk onstage, the lights glimmering off my silver flute and my pathetically pale skin. If I could just explain it, maybe then I could start to understand why it means so much to me. Because I know, even though I don't enjoy band much anymore and loathe having night classes, I still feel drawn to have concerts and to perform. It puts me in a quandary. But perhaps, for the sake of music, it's worth it.
If I could do a face plant right now without hitting my face on my keyboard, I would do it.
OH MY GOD. I AM SOOOOOOOO NAIVE.
I'm so naive a guy I just talked to on the phone whom I haven't even meant can tell I know NOTHING about Hollywood. I'm pretty sure I just made the biggest fool of myself in my entire life and even if I have any possibility of retaining any respectability, I doubt he will ever take me seriously because I'm certain he already thinks I am probably part of that 98% who will run back home from Hollywood, crying my eyes out.
Let me explain.
The other day, I went in to talk to my advisor for Cultural Studies, Jules. She recommended that I message two people that have graduated from the U who are now working in L.A. I did so and heard back from one of them pretty quickly. He gave me his phone number and I called him tonight... well, it's tomorrow now. Even though it's only 10:19 pm in California. Stupid...
Anyway, I gave a brief run-down of my life (not very interesting, I admit). I told him that I really want to intern on the Late Late Show. I told him, though I was embarrassed, that when I was little I used to pretend that I have my own talk show. He told me there was nothing embarrassing about having a dream. I suddenly felt better about life.
The idiocy on my part was to come next. He told me how there's this thing called the UTA job list, which lists a bunch of available jobs in Hollywood. Except it's way more epic than that. Which I didn't fully understand until he described it later, after he'd already offered to email to me but then decided that I wasn't "that excited about it." Problem number one. When he did re-explain the UTA job list, it made me feel like a major asswipe for NOT being more excited about it. Because it's basically something only Hollywood executives get. It does get spread around in other ways, obviously, but most people don't see it until two or three weeks until after it's been released, which doesn't help much. So it's a big damn deal... and I failed to comprehend this on first description and was just like, "yeah, that'd be great." That's like saying, "yeah, that'd be great to have the codes to the nuclear football."
In my defense, I am really fucking tired today. But I feel like that excuse stopped being valid the moment I started my freshman year.
So there's that fail. And then as he went on to describe Hollywood and I compared it to Sunset Boulevard, I probably epically failed again. Because this movie probably glamorizes the unglamorous of Hollywood. Which means I just expressed that I'm a total moron. I'm cringing in my chair just thinking about this... I should never, ever converse on the phone, EVER. It always goes badly.
On my part, it did catch me off-guard that he didn't think I knew anything about Hollywood. I do know that it's not glamorous. I know that it's not exactly beautiful. What I didn't know is that it's a disgustingly UGLY place (or so he stated). I know it's competitive. I know I'm more likely to fail than succeed. I know it's all about who you know. What I didn't think about in context to myself is that there are thousands of people, less lucky, less well-off than me, who are going there everyday, working longer than I will, kissing ass as much as they have to get what they want. I know that people are better than me. I know that I have to really fight for what I want. But fight with what? Better at what? How do I keep from becoming Joe Gillis? Am I already Joe Gillis? Did I just talk to Joe Gillis?
I'm beginning not to make sense... this means it's time to shut up and to go to bed. More about this tomorrow... later. Whatever. You know what I mean.
Well, it's been like 16 hours since I wrote this and I am feeling much, much better about the world. I talked to a grad student in the CSCL department who has worked on the set of "I am Legend" and is pretty much amazing. She was much friendlier and far more helpful than the guy from last night was. In fact, when I told her that he said that 98% of the people who go out to L.A. come home crying, she replied, "He sounds like he's gone totally L.A."
My thoughts exactly.
She was really excited that I was interested in working for the Late Late Show and seemed really positive about it. A bit bitter about film school (apparently a lot of frat-boy wanna-bes show up there thinking they're the next Spielberg) but not at all saying it's going to be hell. Yeah, it'll be a lot of hours and it'll be a lot of work, but if I volunteer first to do thing, really get involved, show I care - they'll be no problems. She said most everyone she knows who have done things like that have gotten jobs out it. She also recognized that I want to go out there for WRITING not... whatever Mr. L.A. automatically assumed I wanted... directing? Producing? I couldn't really tell. She says that writing is a very different field than other parts of the entertainment industry there. And she hadn't heard of the UTA list; she said it was probably, "just a job list." Not the be-all, end-all of my existence. So see if I call Mr. L.A. back wanting it... Like I'd call him back anyway.
The problem of the conversation with Mr. L.A. was that he assumed a lot of things about me. Now, I can't say that he looked at my Facebook account - probably not, he seemed like the super-busy, pretty self-interested sort - but he totally made a lot of off-hand comments that may not have necessarily applied. He assumed I was Minnesotan. I am, but I haven't lived here my entire life. And I'm not sheltered and inexperienced, if that's what he was trying to say with that comment. He assumed that I hadn't been through much hardship or ever worked super hard - both valid and invalid. He seemed to think I couldn't see myself making mistakes or totally failing. Um, really? That's everyday of my fucking LIFE, dude. I make mistakes at a rather high rate. And you fail more than you win in Hollywood? Such is life. He automatically figured I didn't know anything about Hollywood and how competitive it is. Maybe he just wanted to gloat a bit about how much work he's put forth and complain about how shitty people treat him there. He said he was doing what he wanted to do... but he didn't exactly sound happy to me. And this coming from the guy who thought I wasn't excited. Hmmm.
I bring up the Joe Gillis mention from Sunset Boulevard again, partly because I can't get the song from the musical out of my head.
Yeah, it's John Barrowman. Shut up, judging voices of the world.
I remember seeing the movie Sunset Boulevard when I was about fourteen or fifteen. It was one of the first classic films I saw and it totally changed my life. I relate to writers - always have, always will. Because I kind of am one. And seeing Joe Gillis, a writer so fundamentally changed by life in Hollywood... well, it stuck with me. And haunted me. And it's been one of my fears, I guess I'm concerned that You think I've sold out/ Dead right I've sold out/ I just keep waiting/ For the right offers will embody all I've become. That I won't care about anything but money. I don't want to be like that. I want to do this because I WANT TO DO THIS. And because I WANT TO DO THIS FOR OTHER PEOPLE. I don't want this becoming all about fame or fortune or my work. I want to do this to make people happy, to entertain them, TO INSPIRE THEM.
Dreamy, yes, but that's how I operate. I'm not supposed to be embarrassed to have a dream, right?
Mr. L.A. told me that if I don't get an internship over the summer, then there will never be any chance of getting into Hollywood. He kept emphasizing that I should look into one, which wasn't helpful. I DO want to get one. I even know WHICH ONE. It's just GETTING it that will be the problem. He told me he only got the internships he did because his brother was working out there and he had connections. It's all about who you know; I knew this. Mr. L.A. told me twenty times that this was the case. This might make it harder for me. But going in, it's a risk I have to take. If I don't get this internship in L.A. - the only one I really want - well, then I won't be working there. Fine. I get it. I'm not so wet behind the ears to think that things are just going to handed over to me, that things are going to be easy, that I'm not going to have to put up a fight for everything. Clearly, Mr. L.A. doesn't understand that I've spent a better part of my life fighting for things in one way or another. I'm not just another empty-headed dreamer. I'm a pensive dreamer who's not afraid to get her hands dirty. But I'm also not afraid to stand up for who I am and resist to the pressure to become something I'm not. So if I don't belong out there, okay. I'll have lived and learned.
Regardless, I am feeling way WAY better than I did this morning. Despite the fact that I told Mr. L.A. I wasn't going to have any second thoughts, I totally did (because when you get the perception that Hollywood is full of people like him, you can understand why I would run the other direction). But I REALLY want to do it. And after talking to the CSCL grad student, I feel like I'm not selling my soul or committing to something I don't want to do (which was for some reason the vibe I was getting from the other guy). It's a risk - but a risk I want to take. And I need to think positively - realistically, but positively. Which means a hell of a lot more of this :D -
Sometimes I don't know why I write this blog. Here lately I've begun to wonder if it's just a waste of time. It's not academic, nobody really wants to hear me talking about my life, how great I think Torchwood is, how I'm obsessed with British culture and Byronic heroes. Sometimes I wonder why I thought this was a good idea in the first place.
This, of course, comes up because I'm terrified that I'm doing things wrong. My whole life, I've worked for I don't know what... and it's terrifying to recognize that. I'm here in school, basically marking time now until I graduate and trying to find things that set me up and make me look distinctive for an internship that I, until recently, have only dreamed about getting. Well, am still dreaming about getting. I can see it in my own reality... it just seems too fantastic. I think of it as the impossible dream for a reason. But I don't know what I'm doing. If things don't work out, what am I left with? Is blogging really every going to pay off? What if I never finish writing any of the countless things I've started? What if I don't get any internships and graduate with no idea of what I want to do in life?
These questions really start to bog me down, especially after the event I just experienced. I was supposed to let the roofer into the apartment building to do some maintenance, I couldn't find him anywhere. I couldn't call him back because I didn't have his number and, when I did get his number, it was an hour after I was supposed to meet him and I'd already spent a half an hour walking around the outside of the building looking for him. Apparently he was there for about five minutes and left so it totally wasn't my fault. BUT I WAS PISSED. It made me feel so small, so powerless. This job is already rough sometimes because every once in a while, I get the feeling that people don't believe we can actually do this job because we're women. And then I feel like I just can't do this job because I'm 20 years old and I don't exactly look like a manager. And then I just feel like shit. So basically I was just pissed off about being treated like shit. And suddenly, all the things that had made my day good seemed unimportant and trivial. So what if Jules, my CSCL advisor, said that there's absolutely no reason not to try for the Late Late Show internship? So what if I overcame the bystander affect we were talking about in psych class and didn't assume that someone was going to return the key I found in the bathroom and instead returned said key to a very grateful woman in the writing center? So what if I feel like I'm actually going to have an interesting (if totally embarrassing) Nanowrimo story this year? So what if I totally have a celebrity crush on John Barrowman and dream about working for Craig Ferguson and want to be a famous writer? None of that matters because I suck at my job and no one respects me and no one cares about me and I fail at life. At least that's how I felt until I had a little cry, vented to [Львица] and listened to the title song from the musical "Sunset Boulevard" because it's been stuck in my head all day (again, showtunes invading my mind...)
Clearly, I don't suck at my job, people respect me, people care about me and I don't fail at life. But it's hard to think about and appreciate all the things I've accomplished when so many things I want are just... so lofty. I don't think I'm an egotist, I just think I ask a lot out of life. But when am I asking too much? But I so, so so much want to believe this:
Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I be allowed to dream crazy dreams? Why shouldn't I be allowed to try for something incredible? The real trick to all this is keeping my hopes up without getting to overconfident and then totally destroying and disappointing myself. But why shouldn't I at least dream about interviewing, getting the internship, meeting celebrities, just a little bit? It keeps me motivated. It keeps me positive. It keeps me sane.
Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more than what I am to prepare myself - working at some job half the time or leading some student government position or something. But some of those things aren't who I am. And there is only so much I can do in the time that has been given to me. Which is a frightening, staggering thought on many levels... though it's got a nice Lord of the Rings vibe to it. Yes, I don't have much time left before I graduate, before that deadline for the internship is due, before I have to decided what I'm going to do with my life before I kick the bucket and accept that mortality is a fact of life. Unless you're Jack Harkness, of course. But on that plus side, I shouldn't make myself do things I don't really want to do or give up things that truly matter to me. I'm going to run out and overwork myself and let my grades suffer just to impress someone. I'm not going to get involved with something I don't really care about. I'm not going to give up blogging just because I don't have that many followers or I feel like no one cares what I think or because Blogger will never recommend it to anyone and pretends this page doesn't exist. I don't blog for anyone, exactly - I blog because I can. I blog because I enjoy it. I blog for me.
Because when things get rough, it's nice to know that I have this thing, this creation of mine to fall back on. It's a nice comfort. Not to mention I'm finally happy with how the layout looks.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm to stop blogging for a while and go write the worst romance novel ever written and stop being such a gloomy schmuck. Ridiculous sappy storyline - Go!
This seems to be a week about Broadway and hauntings. Seriously, this is the second post in two days about Broadway taking over my mind. Watch this video below to see why:
What do you know... it's John Barrowman again. What are the odds of that, right? barrowmanilove on Tumblr posted this the other morning and I watched this and nearly fell out of my chair. Because I love Sondheim. And I love John Barrowman. And George Hearn is pretty freaking amazing. So this is a total win. It's also from Sweeny Todd, which just happened to be my favorite musical/ movie in my junior year of high school (it was the first R rated movie I saw in theaters... ah, fond memories). And I love this song. Though in the context of the show, it's a totally whack - Todd, which is the part Barrowman is singing, is about to kill Judge Turpin, the part Hearn is singing, because Turpin seduced his wife, kidnapped his daughter, and totally ruined Todd's life in general. So yeah. Though I have to admit, seeing Barrowman and Hearn play those parts would be pretty wild, though I do like the much more amicable version of this. :)
And while listening to "Pretty Women," I stumbled across this video:
Melt... just... melt. This song is SOOOO beautiful. But I felt like there had to be a catch (especially as people kept commenting that the song was so lovely out of context). Then I saw that it was from Assassins. And I knew we were in trouble.
This will be another example of how everything in my life comes full circle. Assassins was mentioned in a class I took last semester, taught by [tedesco]. In fact, on the first day of class, two students acted out part of the play the musical is based on as a mind-blowing way of starting the class. And then when watched a clip from The Producers (the bit with John Barrowman singing "Springtime For Hitler," but I didn't know that was him yet :P). Because the class was a study of how history is made, we spent a lot of time talking about history being made in not-so pretty ways, like assassinating and killing people. Which is exactly what Assassins is about.
Here's a short description about it, via Wikipedia:
It uses the premise of a murderous carnival game to produce a revue-style portrayal of men and women who attempted (successfully or otherwise) to assassinate Presidents of the United States. The music varies to reflect the popular music of the eras depicted.
And...
By developing the characters of historic assassins out of the slim biographical information found in the daily news, Assassins
prompts us to consider their motivation. "(Sondheim) confronts pain in
order to cauterize the decay and heal the sicknesses which lurk at the
core of our society". Departing from the humanism of his previous
musical Into the Woods, Sondheim suggests that political murderers are a product of the American political culture (Joanne Gordon).[18]
At this point in the musical when "Unworthy of Your Love" appears, John Hinckley, the man who attempted to assassinate Ronald Reagan, is visited by Lynette Fromme, a woman who tried to kill Gerald Ford. Here's how Wiki describes it:
John Hinckley sits in his rumpus room, aimlessly playing a guitar. Lynette Fromme enters and tries to convince him to play her a song (asking for "Helter Skelter"), but he refuses. Fromme notices a picture of Jodie Foster,
who Hinckley claims is his girlfriend. When Fromme realizes the picture
is a publicity photo from a film, she pulls out of a picture of Charles
Manson and mocks Hinckley for being in love with a woman he's never
met, which makes him throw her out in a fit of rage. Alone, he swears
that he will win Foster's love "with one brave, historic act" and sings a
love song to her while Fromme individually does the same to Manson
("Unworthy Of Your Love").
Totally changes your feelings about the song, right? I felt... kind of disturbed, to say the least. Which is the point. It's how I feel every time I listen to "A Little Priest" and am like, "hey this song is great. Hold on, it's about CANNIBALISM." And then I get this wonderful, terrible sense of cognitive dissonance. Sondheim is very, very good at making me do this. Not that all of his music is dark; it's not. He's just really good about making things dark and disturbing - and yet sympathetic.
So, I can't help liking the song as a traditional love song (if a very intense, emotional one). But it's kind of weird and unsettling to know how it's performed in the musical. That's the vibe I get with a lot of Sondheim's music - it could fit into a lot of scenarios, but the one's they actually apply to are sometimes totally unexpected. Which makes them all the more powerful and beautiful and disturbing. And haunting.
And thus I've had "Unworthy of Your Love" stuck in my head for the last two days. And it kind of freaks me out. But, you know, I always feel a bit freaked out when I get a song as powerful as this one stuck in my head. Because there's no getting it out. I'm just stuck with it for now, so I might as well revel in its power. Sondheim, you win again :)
Yesterday, while I was at home, I had the sudden urge to add all the albums that I have of musicals onto my iPod. I haven't done this before because of space issues on my computer but now that my iTunes is on a back-up drive...well, I can add as many songs as I want.
So after this epic upload, I was listening to the music from one of my favorite shows, Jekyll and Hyde. I got obsessed with it in 2002 when I discovered Linda Eder (a Broadway performer who was raised in Minnesota). I seriously listened to this soundtrack for nearly the entire winter, so now that whenever I listen to it after not hearing it for a long time, the first thing I see is snowfall and Christmas lights. I was also lucky enough to see it performed by Burnsville High School, who has one of the most incredible theater programs in the south suburbs. They were even doing a showing of it somewhere in Scotland as I saw ads for it in Glasgow and regretted the fact that there was no way I was going to be able to go. Despite the fact that it's not that well-known and the music isn't quite as spectacular as some shows, I suppose, I'm still a fan. Perhaps because it's based off of one of my favorite creepy stories by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Man is not one but two/ He is evil and good/ And he walks the fine line we'd all cross if we could. That's part of the chorus in one of the main songs, "Facade." If Henry Jekyll were working today, he'd probably be a psychologist trying to understand human nature. Unfortunately from him, that probably wouldn't save him from spiraling into taking experimentation too far and using himself to release his evil side. Which doesn't work out so hot. Because now he's just a normal man, both good and evil (leaning more towards good) with a totally evil maniac trying to escape from him. The musical of this saga is dark and powerful and really chilling (especially when you're listening to it amongst a misty October afternoon). This is one of my favorite songs that just haunts me:
I love the voice of the actor that sings this too - it's so emotional. Also, you can hear a bit of the voice he uses for Hyde lingering in some of the words, and it's super eerie.
This show is just tragic and utterly Byronic, I'm sure. A good man being corrupted by his faults though he intended to do good with his work - how much more of a tortured hero can you get? I also like that this adaption takes into account the women in Jekyll's life, something I always wondered about when I read Stevenson's story (because there were no women in that story and nothing make me wonder more about something than not addressing it all). There are some REALLY great pieces for the women characters in this show and I could share all of them, because some of them are SUPER FANTASTIC. I'm not, though, because that'd probably be tedious and annoying. Instead, I'm going to recommend two - "A New Life" and "In His Eyes." And I'm going to play the one that, for some reason, I just can't get out of my head today. It's really short, not super spectacular, but I just keep singing it to myself. So here it is - "Emma's Reason," a song where Emma, Jekyll's fiance, stands up for wanting to marry him even though everyone thinks he's bonkers. This isn't the whole song, but I can't find it in it's entirety, in English and without any extra weird stuff. So this'll do:
I don't know what makes this show so obsessive for me, but now I can't stop listening to it. A great soundtrack for Halloween, though, I must say.
So I saw this on Tumblr like five minutes ago: If SOPA passes, the following sites could be blocked for US users. 
