Recently I've become accustomed to writing electronically on this blog or in a word document instead of in my journal or in a notebook and it is ridiculous because I feel like I am cheating writing. I am an unorthodox writer which is no big deal because nowadays most people use computers to write everything from blog post to work write ups on a computer. Nobody worries about that paper and pen shit anymore. Plus this is eco-friendly YAY! I don't care about trees, really I would just like to be able to pick up a goddamn pen and write in my journal like I used to instead of coming to this screen. I feel like an untrue writer or something.
30 minute time limit to say all I want to say. GO!
Alright I have gotten over the idea, the concept, the fantasy of me ever finding a cool guy in my life whether he be a friend or more than a friend. And until recently I had been staying away from all of them. I was free of men and their misgivings. Hallelujah.
And now I have opened a can of worms or more like a can of wasps ( a little more intimidating ). Why did I crack open this can of wasps with my bare teeth like a hillbilly? I felt attracted to someone and I thought he seemed attracted to me too and, well, I am experienced enough to know how to get some of what I want and of course so inexperienced that I get another bit of what I don't want. I guess you could say that thought though 382 miles are separating us I found a way to increase his likeness for me but of course it came with a catch. I think I must be an idiot or have a curse or something. Anywho, I got what I wanted but I suppose not in the fashion I wanted it. I'm saving the gory details for something not so public like my journal ( that's if I can actually pick it up and write in it ). And to make everything amplified like Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World ( love that movie! ) another girl comes into the picture, a friend. By the way this is in no way referencing to a ménage à trois. So now I am struggling with the whole friend situation because she talks to me like she already knows she is getting some from him the next time she sees him. And she is planning on seeing him. So, where does that leave me? Nowhere, because I never expected nor do I expect this whatever to go anywhere mainly because we are both so far away... maybe if I was back in the bay it would be different. It was always just fun and butterflies and cake and boxing... carefree talking with him. But now a part of me that likes being admired and complimented by him wants to make sure I don't get hurt if he fucks my friend. I've been the girl who gets to find out the guy she likes fucked her best friend... one of the shittiest feelings: Like an uppercut you are not fucking expecting. But I don't want to ask him or say anything to him because it is too much drama and I don't want it to seem like I am trying to control what he does. Go ahead fuck her, I am all for it... just don't tag me along to watch.
And now that I post this I am going to have to say something just in the case that someone reads this shit... though nobody actually does.
goodnight
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
womanly womaness
Today was full of yelling, arguing, cursing, many decisions, and stupid head boys.
For film class we had to come up with a page and half narrative in script format, choose the best script then write a storyboard for the best script.
My script wasn't the best which was fine. So, we picked someone else's.
My storyboard was the best but we picked someone else's.
I didn't vote for my own because I read that you are never supposed to vote for your own and I didn't want to be the black sheep causing trouble. But, honestly my storyboard was the best. Now regardless of whether it was or wasn't the best doesn't matter... it is all about the execution. When my storyboard wasn't picked I went into the situation with a smiling face, good attitude and open arms. And then all of a sudden I start suggesting stuff once our lights go up and no one is listening, it was like they changed the channel on their radios just to tune me out. Plus during the shoot they mention my cleavage and how it could get us extra points in our project... fucking obnoxious pigs. I knew my tits were hanging out but there was nothing I could do since I was wearing a low cut shirt while having to look for fake contact lenses. The directing was shit. The shots were shit. Execution of it all was shit. I seriously wanted to choke the director with a weasel and pull out all my hair and then shoot out my brains and have them all clean up the mess with only their tongues. Crude, I know.
I was the talent in the script. Since the script had a girl originally and I was the only girl in our group I felt like they eliminated mine first off because they didn't want to have to rework the script or they just didn't want two guys playing the roles. I don't know. All I do know is never in my life have I felt so belittled between these three guys though I know they weren't doing it on purpose. Maybe it was all instinctual like they were trained to be superior over me. I have talked with a friend before about women in the film business and how they can at times can be overlooked because there aren't many of them and it just makes me think... should I have spoken up about my storyboard in the beginning? What should I have done?
For film class we had to come up with a page and half narrative in script format, choose the best script then write a storyboard for the best script.
My script wasn't the best which was fine. So, we picked someone else's.
My storyboard was the best but we picked someone else's.
I didn't vote for my own because I read that you are never supposed to vote for your own and I didn't want to be the black sheep causing trouble. But, honestly my storyboard was the best. Now regardless of whether it was or wasn't the best doesn't matter... it is all about the execution. When my storyboard wasn't picked I went into the situation with a smiling face, good attitude and open arms. And then all of a sudden I start suggesting stuff once our lights go up and no one is listening, it was like they changed the channel on their radios just to tune me out. Plus during the shoot they mention my cleavage and how it could get us extra points in our project... fucking obnoxious pigs. I knew my tits were hanging out but there was nothing I could do since I was wearing a low cut shirt while having to look for fake contact lenses. The directing was shit. The shots were shit. Execution of it all was shit. I seriously wanted to choke the director with a weasel and pull out all my hair and then shoot out my brains and have them all clean up the mess with only their tongues. Crude, I know.
I was the talent in the script. Since the script had a girl originally and I was the only girl in our group I felt like they eliminated mine first off because they didn't want to have to rework the script or they just didn't want two guys playing the roles. I don't know. All I do know is never in my life have I felt so belittled between these three guys though I know they weren't doing it on purpose. Maybe it was all instinctual like they were trained to be superior over me. I have talked with a friend before about women in the film business and how they can at times can be overlooked because there aren't many of them and it just makes me think... should I have spoken up about my storyboard in the beginning? What should I have done?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
A week of disappointing news.
This week, this month, has been overloaded with disappointing news and it has within the past 48 hours only gotten worse.
It is odd because just a month ago I felt on top of the world with an internship in hand, a job landed and dreams that needed to be tended to. Here I am now upset, devastated, distraught, discouraged and all together just ready to give up. For fuck sake I haven't really created anything in so long.
I feel empty like a tomb.
No ideas.
No hope.
No vacancy
No time.
I found out that my best friends mom, who I consider my second mom, most likely had her hip broken by a tumor. About 5 years ago she was diagnosed with GBM, a very debilitating type of brain cancer. This tumor or mass in her hip is not the GBM but as a result of her chemo and radiation treatments for her GBM it has made her more susceptible to getting cancer. And now after all this time of happiness and good health she is back in the hospital, in pain, possibly with more cancer.
My other second mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago and had a double mastectomy. She had to have reconstructive surgery and does not have any feeling in her new breasts. We found out their dog died today. I loved Radar. As if the breast cancer wasn't enough.
Cancer took my grandfather away from me a year ago in May.
Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
Death. Death. Death.
It has been a constant fucking reminder like a bird chirping in my ear saying, "life is not everlasting," or "life isn't fair."
I want to squish that fucking bird.
I remember when my grammie got breast cancer. I was young when it happened and at that point, to me it didn't even seem that prevalent (probably because my young age). And now it seems like no matter what age you are, you are at risk of getting cancer.
All I can think about is when will I have to endure another death in my family like my grandfathers because though not blood related both those women are just as close to me as any relative. I think of how I will react when I get the news or where I will be. I know...morbid. But I figured out this is how I brace myself for the reality of the situation. This is how I prepare myself for the worst. I find it nearly impossible at times to think positive because I don't believe in miracles, I don't believe God is listening to my good thoughts, I don't believe that I can do anything to help. But it is funny because I find that a positive attitude is key to getting through most things, even illnesses, not because it has magical powers but because of its biological powers. Somehow I find cancer so deafening to life that any positiveness is just drowned out immediately, regardless.
And to add to it all I have been so busy and out of sync that I haven't been writing, painting, or photographing anything. I made a schedule hoping to get on track with this creative stuff. I am going to try and turn my negatives into positives. I am going to try and workout too.
But mostly in all this pain and sadness, I feel alone. I wish there were people outside to comfort me or to tell me it will all be okay.
It is odd because just a month ago I felt on top of the world with an internship in hand, a job landed and dreams that needed to be tended to. Here I am now upset, devastated, distraught, discouraged and all together just ready to give up. For fuck sake I haven't really created anything in so long.
I feel empty like a tomb.
No ideas.
No hope.
No vacancy
No time.
I found out that my best friends mom, who I consider my second mom, most likely had her hip broken by a tumor. About 5 years ago she was diagnosed with GBM, a very debilitating type of brain cancer. This tumor or mass in her hip is not the GBM but as a result of her chemo and radiation treatments for her GBM it has made her more susceptible to getting cancer. And now after all this time of happiness and good health she is back in the hospital, in pain, possibly with more cancer.
My other second mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago and had a double mastectomy. She had to have reconstructive surgery and does not have any feeling in her new breasts. We found out their dog died today. I loved Radar. As if the breast cancer wasn't enough.
Cancer took my grandfather away from me a year ago in May.
Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
Death. Death. Death.
It has been a constant fucking reminder like a bird chirping in my ear saying, "life is not everlasting," or "life isn't fair."
I want to squish that fucking bird.
I remember when my grammie got breast cancer. I was young when it happened and at that point, to me it didn't even seem that prevalent (probably because my young age). And now it seems like no matter what age you are, you are at risk of getting cancer.
All I can think about is when will I have to endure another death in my family like my grandfathers because though not blood related both those women are just as close to me as any relative. I think of how I will react when I get the news or where I will be. I know...morbid. But I figured out this is how I brace myself for the reality of the situation. This is how I prepare myself for the worst. I find it nearly impossible at times to think positive because I don't believe in miracles, I don't believe God is listening to my good thoughts, I don't believe that I can do anything to help. But it is funny because I find that a positive attitude is key to getting through most things, even illnesses, not because it has magical powers but because of its biological powers. Somehow I find cancer so deafening to life that any positiveness is just drowned out immediately, regardless.
And to add to it all I have been so busy and out of sync that I haven't been writing, painting, or photographing anything. I made a schedule hoping to get on track with this creative stuff. I am going to try and turn my negatives into positives. I am going to try and workout too.
But mostly in all this pain and sadness, I feel alone. I wish there were people outside to comfort me or to tell me it will all be okay.
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