Thursday, June 4, 2009

San Diego Hillbillies  

My family is insane.

-"Cooking" is making toast. Expect compliments needed heavily if someone "cooks" some toast for you.

-All Phillipino women have fish breath. Actually, all women from any east-Asian anywhere are "Phillipinos" and they're all smokers, hot, and eager to doink my hick cousins.

-All girls who work at a career and not a job will get pregnant from partying, because they're all single sluts.

-MY COUSIN IS HITTING ON ME.

I miss James like crazy. There is too much irony and I can't soak it all in myself. It's like trying to clean up a pile of vomit with a toothbrush.

The Bitch is Back  

(title is my favorite Elton John song pretty much ever)

So here I am in San Diego! My flights were blissfully uneventful, although apparently a young adult woman just can't travel with a stuffed bulldog-in-a-bee-costume without rubberneckers trying to figure her out. My mom called me during my layover to tell me my uncle had finally passed away (she had gone out early at the recommendation of his nurse) the night before. So, I saddled up to the airport bar and read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy as I drank my bloody mary at 10am, with my stuffed bulldog, Peabody. Otherwise, totally uneventful.

My cousins have been complaining about the weather nonstop. Yeah, the 70 degree weather is "chilly" to them and the clouds are downright offensive. Quelle dommage! Coming from the Frigid Tundra they can pretty much suck my dirty toes.

They eat terribly and my tummy can tell. We've eaten out twice already (been here for less than 24 hours) and they say vegetables are evil. However, that fish taco was delicious (which is not the name of a bay-side themed porn). My mom wants to make "salad" tonight, i.e. a bag of iceberg lettuce with a bottle of creamy dressing. It's like washing my intestines with Elmer's glue. Yum!

Anyway, today I'm trying to finish up some residual photo stuff. I have to say, doing nothing in CA beats doing nothing in the Tundra. The pool at this place is amazing. I'm really anxious to get up to LA and get settled. I start work Monday and I hope I'll find a part time job by then.

Things I've forgotten so far:
Sunglasses
Glasses cleaner
Cable to get pictures off my camera
Flash drive


Oh so much more to come...

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Not right  

I ate an entire sundae from Coldstone Creamery. It's oozing out my ears I'm so full.

Monday, April 27, 2009

In a nutshell  

Cancer scare

Got hired

Got fired (sucked)

Going to LA

Unemployed

Making a film

Too busy to see straight.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Hot as balls!  

Dear World,

It is Hot As Balls here!

What/whose balls? I'm not sure... and what constitutes a hot ball? Therein lies the mystery...

Friday, April 17, 2009

IT'S ALIIIIIVE  

Just busy. SO STOP HARASSING ME, JAMES.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Proof, finally  


I can has a headstand!

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Gettysberg Busted  

So despite frantic online planning for the perfect spring break trip to Gettysburg, PA, we (and by we I mean I decided and James went along) canceled. We whittled the cost down to 250 bucks for each of us for two and a half fabulous days, but I just can't afford it. Why?

1. I need a second job and I can't find one.
2. I need to save the money for my thesis next year.
3. I don't work hard enough to warrant a vacation.
4. Today I almost got slammed into by some prick in a parking lot that decided he had to have the parking spot I'm halfway into. I feel like the universe is telling me to hide out for a while.
5. Fuck it.

Needless to say, this week kind of sucked. I had to cancel on a shoot today because frankly I have too much work to do and not enough incentive (i.e. respect) to forgo my own commitments just because it's not film related. Someone implied earlier in the quarter that because I don't direct my own films I have less to do. Ultimately, it will do me and the person much more good to simply seal off that relationship, because when I'm around them I just lower myself to a bad place and get hostile. I had a lightbulb moment regarding why the situation has been bothering me so much: the person implied that her passion for the personal project caused her to work harder. It hit me: passion and working hard are completely separate. I might be passionate about photography, but I could be passionate and spend that energy looking at photos all day. Working hard at it means I make the time to practice, to try it, and to actually put it in motion.
It makes much more sense to just step away and let that person and myself alike save our energy for our own worries. I have finals to study for, papers to write, moving plans to arrange for, and balls to bust ( mine).

I wish I were a horse. I could just put on blinders and keep moving forward.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Top Five Reasons for Bottomless Yoga  

1) It's raining outside and you can't go on your bike ride because Rochester is Satan's camel toe.

2) The visiting speaking to career prep made fun of the students that didn't go to the gym that week.

3) Jeans are constricting.

4) Yoga pants are dirty because you're a lazy mofo.

5) Appropriate underwear is out of reach because you're a lazy mofo.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Night Movies  

I had two shoots this weekend that went very well, for a spoof vampire flick about a father who hunts vampires and his surly daughter. We got some really great footage, but were contending with several challenges:
*the scene takes place at night, but we shot it during the day in a house with no less than one DOZEN windows on the first floor
*burn make up requiring one hour of prep time
*a kitchen measuring 5 feet by ten feet to shoot in (garrrr!)
*an actor that hits on me gratuitously despite the fact that I've started wearing a wedding ring to deter him. Most of crew has been informed of this ruse and now it's a hilarious failure. James fake proposed to me with a cock ring on Friday.

Anyway, everything turned out great in the end, but the shoot must have had some deep psychological effect on me because I had the most vivid nightmare of my life the night after we wrapped:
The director was a two headed monster, who spoke in a Gollum-like growl the entire time. I had one light to use, and as I secured it in place, he hissed at me and said he hated the lighting, and then POURED HOT OIL on my head. I kept working and working and finally I said, "I'm going to bed, guys." Then, as I woke up in the dream the two headed monster appeared in my house and dragged me back out. This happened several more times until I finally stumbled downstairs and tried to put on my coat and boots to get in my car and go back to the location. I saw James sitting there and only then realized there was something askew with a two headed director.

I took last night off.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Name-este  

Something I've noticed:

People that change their names usually have some sort of bone to pick.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Why Self Timers Don't Mix with Handstands  

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Hide Out  

Where have I been?

Underground, I went underground. Honestly, I'm a little paranoid about future employers reading this blog, and my post about a certain company's new film stock was attracting viewers in L.A. I freaked (natch) and pulled the public plug, an act neither as graphic nor as satisfying as the alliterative name suggests. So rest assured, I remain alive.

Where have I been, been?

I'm been struggling to sludge through the norm lately, with two feature screenplays, midterms, and three short films in production right now, I can barely stand up straight. Not to mention the fact that I contracted some sort of stomach flu last week and got a respiratory infection on top of that. It was many different shades of unpleasant, most of which begin with my favorite word, "Motherfucker."

On the bright side, I'm almost done with "Front Desk," a satire about two pregnant women working in an office trying to blackmail each other. The story is about the facades we live with and the consequences thereof, unfulfilled dreams, and a lot of other issues that make it very unlikely to sell, as it is not terribly commercial.

The inspiration is from real life. A couple of kids get pregnant and have an abortion, but commit themselves to each other out of guilt. Even though it's clearly a match made in hell, they struggled for an unnecessary amount of time. Like I said, not terribly uplifting but I think it's a pretty poignant metaphor. Pregnancy itself is a really good vehicle for any story. Three trimesters, three acts. So much development happens out of it but it's easy to forget how one teeny event can throw the whole thing out of whack. I hope the script gets in someone else's hands eventually, but it has felt very good to get it out on paper. Even if it kind of sucks right now.

Anyway, I'm busy trying to study for a really scary exam and coughing, so I better get back on the horse.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Sweet Pee-lief  

In case anyone's brain sizzles from the burning anticipation, I did finish my paper.

I also went pee three times.

Wait-- I just remembered how much sugar I've consumed today. Oh yeah. That makes a lotta sense.

Love,
Mistress Urination

(That's really unflattering, isn't it?)

Lady Pee-a-lot  

I'm postulating the more creative I get, the more I pee. I wrote for four hours solid on Sunday, three yesterday, and I've had to pee with the passing of each fleeting moment. I wonder if my brain's like, "Quick! Distract her from the crappy ideas!"

Additionally, my skin is dry, I have a paper due in an hour and a half I haven't finished, and I have to shoot a video in a bar tonight when I would much rather be gorging on grapes and watching a movie.

PS- It is never not cold enough for hot chocolate.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

BOOOK  

HA! The first shitty one is out of my system.

In other news, my butt is numb from sitting on it all day and I finished a 17 page script today. Buzzing right now due to consumption of three brownies. That is, I consumed three brownies, not that three brownies suffer from a sickness known as consumption.

That would be as silly as publishing a 32 page excuse for a book.
Ha. Yeah.

*shifts awkwardly*

Ahem...  

Is anyone interested in a 34 page collections of short stories and poems, by yours truly?

Copies would be 12 bucks a pop.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Not so entertaining  

My uncle went to the E.R. for severe leg pain, which turned out to be a blood clot. Upon further testing, it looks like right now he has cancer and it has metastasized, though the other tests have not confirmed this yet. I just wanted to write it down. I don't really know why.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Really?  

From my photo professor:

I don't believe in welfare. Welfare is like monetary birth control. Why put a quick fix on it when you shouldn't be doing it in the first place.
Uh...

Okay. Can we have our exams from a month ago yet?

Lights  

Experts say, “Lights needed to circumvent crap weather and matching moods”

Rochester, NY -- When the going gets tough, the tough get cranky, at least in Rochester. To compliment near record breaking cold temperatures in Rochester this season, the mood remains at a constant “Dismal at Best,” occasionally skirting near the “Would rather spend the winter gnawing off my own hand” category. Commonly, students and native Rochesterians alike can be caught saying, “It’s already nasty out. I’m going to stay inside and snarl at passers-by.”

Though ugly sweater parties and Hulu marathons appear with high frequency to soften the blow of nature’s bitchslap, the efforts still fall short to put some cheer on the frigid tundra desperation. A solution? Lights.

There was a house down the street from where I grew up, which all the local kids referred to as “that crazy guy’s house”. At the end of August, his matchbox house would transform to an elaborate light show, dwarfing and overwhelming his tiny piece of property. Finally, around April, the lights would come down, and the neighborhood kids would secretly look forward to the fall when the glowing reindeer and ornaments came back out. At the time, I thought this behavior was totally mad. The guy went out of his way to turn his home into an oddity.

This year, I put up some pumpkin lights for Halloween. As November neared, I decided I would leave them up for Thanksgiving (Jack-o-Lanterns are harvest-ish, right?). As Thanksgiving passed, it seemed close enough to Christmas to switch out the pumpkins for Christmas lights. And at mid-January, those lights are still on my walls, greeting me when I come home to otherwise total darkness at the witching hour of five in the afternoon.

In such a cold environment, it’s easy to forget that spring is ever going to get here. And if I may wax on poetic on yo’ ass for a moment, it’s easy to forget spring will come back to work, school, relationships, health, and anything we do to get pleasure. I like to think that the crazy woman lights on my house extend an invitation to people: It’s okay to come celebrate. When I pass by some rope lights on a strange block, it reminds me: I may not be able to get out and celebrate or renew now, but there are others who want that change as much as I do.