I love this song. I remember asking my dad about it whenever it came on the radio--I'd always forget who performed it--and he'd always point out that it had a link to an actual event that took place in San Francisco. It wasn't until today in class, when we were watching a video detailing the Summer of Love in 1967 that it finally connected in my brain the meaning of what he was saying. Wow.
I've been having moments like this off and on for the last three weeks: thinking about the stories my parents have told me, constructing a mental timeline, finally connecting event to event, letting the realities of things that happened sink in and envelop my mind. Not only am I slowly gaining a better understanding of where we are as a society today, but also how I relate to my parents to my grandparents...and suddenly I feel more passionate. I honestly don't know how to explain how or why, but I feel it. There is so much going through my mind right now, I'm overwhelmed. I know now how much I care about what happened during the sixties--because it affected so much. I might touch on this more a little later, but right now I find myself lost in what had happened in my parents' generation, and really, being two days away from being done with the class, I really need to focus on all the essays I have to compose in the next week.
In the meantime, I'm going to pop in all the 60s music I know of so I can concentrate. And this one will be played a lot.
Second, John Green has released the title of his new book, which will rock the world's socks off for sure. If you have not read any of his previous books, go now to your local library or bookstore. I'd start with Paper Towns; others would argue with me and insist on Looking for Alaska. And yes, Will Grayson, Will Grayson counts. When it comes down to it though, it does not matter, because all of them are AMAZING. John Green is a brilliant writer; you won't be disappointed.
Third, and most annoyingly, Meghan Cox Gurden responds to the uproar following her previous opinion piece. I have a hard time finding her argument sound, but I'd rather not think on it too much because it makes my brain hurt. This article has enflamed Twitter and the rest of the internet once again, even more so than her first, it seems. Two rebuttals I really like come from Gayle Forman and Bookshelves of Doom. Both are incredibly insightful but also offer different criticisms, which ups the awesomeness of each. Agreed, agreed, agreed. As for my thoughts...they are many, but one of the things that upsets me the most is that she suggests that adolescence--and all complications that come with it--can, essentially, be forgotten, like those things (some which are terrible) won't carry with you as you get older. As someone who's still trying to understand the complex and often inexplicable issues with change-overs in friends, the little things that were actually kind of huge, and has since developed a very poor sense of self-esteem from all the teasing and the unkind words, I beg to differ. YA helped me (and still does) understand myself in relation to the world, and it sure as hell didn't matter what the subject was, because I gained so much from every single YA book I read. There is a true reflection of ourselves that can be found there. It may not have the ultimate sense of influence, but even the smallest connection makes a difference.
First, this outtake that's been floating around the internet, which makes me laugh a LOT:
And then there is this version Glee Live skit from the 26 June show in London, seriously one of the best Klaine skits I've seen on YouTube thus far. Chris Colfer, as I think I've said before, is a GENIUS, and Darren Criss, as always, plays off him so well.
Kurt and Blaine are seriously the best. THE. BEST. I can't get over it.
Yesterday at work, we started telling jokes to pass the time, as we were bored. I'm not much of a joke-teller; the handful of jokes I remember include knock-knock jokes everyone's already heard and that one really funny nuns-in-Transylvania joke my Aunt Mary told me I save for when conversation falters and no one's saying anything. So I didn't contribute anything except listening.
One of my coworkers started rattling off joke after joke. He started with some general ones, and then became more and more specific as time went on. In other words, he started off with your average blonde joke and suddenly he was spouting ones that were sexist or relating to the Holocaust.
I am not and have never really been one for blonde jokes (mostly because I feel like people purposely tell me them because I'm blonde; though my coworker told me yesterday that my dirty blonde hair didn't count/qualify). But listening to jokes concerning race, sex, and the Holocaust (!!!!) really upset me. It just felt wrong to even consider making jokes about subjects as sensitive as this. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like there is no good thing in making fun of the Holocaust--one doesn't just toss around something that was responsible for tearing apart families and involved the genocide of innocent people.
But then there's the issue of making jokes about race and gender, and honestly, they make me extremely uncomfortable. Other than the crassness of the jokes themselves, I feel like I question the thoughts and motivation of the joke-teller as well. Can I really believe them when they insist they are not racist or sexist? And if they really aren't racist or sexist, then why would they even entertain the idea of telling those jokes?
I understand that we're all human; I've told my share of inappropriate jokes and laughed at stuff that I probably shouldn't have found funny....but I feel awful afterward. How could I even think these things? And I'm still trying to figure out the world in general, so maybe I'm just thinking too much into this. But every time I hear something like that--aside from the omnipresent stereotyping--all I can think about is the fact that it calls out our differences, what makes us unique, and takes and puts them into a bad light. And deep down, isn't that a form of prejudice?
At one point in fifth grade, my desk was situated right behind my least favorite person in the world--the only person who seemed to be always on my bad side--Jessica. We had never gotten along (seriously, it had lasted since daycare) and after we had rearranged our desks that month, I was not happy that I'd have to deal with her on a daily basis.
That was about the time that my mother had started teaching me the basics of drawing the human face, and it was something that I was really, really excited about. (Drawing the figure/portraiture is my favorite thing to draw now, and I knew very early on that it was something I was interested in.) It was not anything fancy; the faces I was practicing were straight-on, basic forms, beginning. But I practiced. A lot.
Jessica turned around in her seat one day and saw me drawing someone else in the class, I forget who. She seemed genuinely interested and asked if I'd draw a portrait of her. I agreed, and gave it to her when I was done.
The next day, Jessica turned around again, wearing a look that I would recognize and see later, over and over again. She held up a sandwich bag by one corner, dangling it in front of me.
"I'm sorry, but my dog tore up your drawing," she said. I remember her smirking or trying not to laugh--but that could be something my mind made up later.
In the bag were the pieces of the now torn-up portrait I drew of her.
I don't remember what happened immediately after. Sometimes I wonder if my head made this particular memory up, but then I know that it did actually happen. My mind may have exaggerated the memory, but I know in my heart that it did happen. There's always that one voice in the back of my head whenever I draw, the one that says many things. Not perfect, not good enough, are you kidding me?
I hate being there when someone else is looking at my work. I've hated it since then, and I know I'll hate it for the rest of my life. I don't want to be there to see their reaction. And I don't believe in holding grudges--and I really, really try not to--but the memory of her dangling that baggie in my face, telling me without words that my interests, my passions, meant nothing, knowing how I have internalized it so, is something I am struggling to forget.
If you have not seen this review of Glee Live in NYC, you should read it, not only because it is honest, it also vocalizes something important that some fail to understand about Glee. And oh, is it spot-on--and that last line.... (Also be sure to check out the comments...no words.)
I will return to this subject. But first: homework.
Sidenote: Also check out the video the author provides of the Kurt/Blaine skit from the late show. It is probably my favorite of all the ones I've watched on YouTube because
A) Kurt is awesome (and my favorite character, so that's a given)
B) Kurt and Blaine are wonderful together and
C) It is hilarious. (And Chris Colfer ad-libbing--from what I understand, anyway--with Darren Criss' responses are possibly the greatest thing since sliced bread.)
Emma-Watson.net posted a video from filming the Best Scene Ever. (And my favorite part of the book, hands down.) The best part? I think the truck turns around right in front of the hotel Jessica, Kelsey, Laura and I stayed at in March when we were in Pittsburgh. Which makes complete sense, because once you come out of the Fort Pitt Tunnel and cross the bridge, the hotel is right there.
Excitement!!!!!!! Gah....I cannot wait to see this movie. It is going to be incredible.
One of these days I should tell you all about my devotion to the Georgia Nicholson series (and how my sister and I are some of the biggest fans in the Midwest, probably). And how excited I am that Louise Rennison is continuing to publish.
I haven't yet read this chapter, but rest assured that by the end of the week, I will have. Most definitely. It's going to be awesome.
The trailer debuted online on Thursday, and I know I should have mentioned it then, but that was also the same day as Pottermore's clues were put up, so I was a little overcome with various emotions and all I could do after class that night was sit and watch the trailer for the first time. I didn't full-out cry, but I did gasp, and tears did well up....and I had to process it.
The full water-works will hit when watching the film for the first time. I'm almost certain of that. When reading the book, right at the end of "The Prince's Tale" is when everything hits me like a big yellow school bus and I can't stop crying for years, it seems. It starts to pick up when Harry tells Neville to make sure to kill Nagini, and Neville tells him, "We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?" (p558, UK edition). And it gets worse when Harry talks to his parents and Lupin and Sirius. Never have I cried harder when reading a book, never have I felt the emotions so strongly or passionately. (That's the kind of power Jo Rowling has when she is armed with pen and paper.)
Which is why, when in the trailer, Harry is suddenly talking to his parents and Sirius and Lupin, that I almost fell out of my chair.
It still has not hit that this is going to be the very last Harry Potter movie, ever. (And it probably won't fully hit me until I'm sitting in the theatre, watching the last few minutes of film before the credits.) Since I was a sixth-grader, waiting to find out what happens in Goblet of Fire (which came out the summer between my sixth and seventh-grade years), there has always been something a little more to look forward to. This final release will definitely not reach the kind of emotion of ending that reading Deathly Hallows did, but it will also be the ultimate release of something that has become a part of who I am now. With the release of the book, we still had three movies to look forward to. Now, however, there will be nothing more tied directly to this series that will be released.
I keep thinking about a song by The Byrds, which is based on a set of Bible verses from Ecclesiastes. Things have their time in this world: each and every one of us will have our time, events in our life will come and go. I understand that, and as the years have gone on, I have come to accept it and love it, however affecting the loss in question may be.
But at the same time, however, I'm remembering the excitement of the wait: where we would make predictions about what was going to happen based on mere titles of each book and the precious few tidbits and hints that we were given before each release. I remember fighting with Heidi and Prairie about who was going to get together, Ron and Hermione or Harry and Hermione*--and seeing R/Hr clutching each other at 1:40 kills me because there's so much beauty and power and love and protection there and I want to cry because I had almost the same reaction as FYA did. The rawness, the newness of it all, the joy of spending releases with fellow fans who get that feeling of excitement/fear/love/community...I'll bring that with me for the rest of my life.
The trailer itself is gorgeous, and I'd argue the best of all of them--which is only fitting, since it will probably be the very last one we'll ever get (I'm not counting the TV spots). The dragon's in it, and that made me super excited to see the Gringotts sequence, which is one of my favorite parts of the book because it's so badass. And then the suits of armor (!!), and the Room of Requirement, and all the battle stuff, and I think you also see Neville with sword somewhere in there....Part 2 is going to be amazing. And the way they begin with clips from previous movies? So much awesome packed into 3 minutes.
Honestly, though this is the last movie, and it will be sad beyond comprehension to fully accept that, there will always be more. Perhaps not in the same sense, but certainly in spirit. Rereading the series (something I've meant to do for ages), rewatching the movies, and FREAKIN' Pottermore, when it's true identity is announced to the world next week. And then, anything that J.K. Rowling publishes in the future will surely be top of my to-read list. Also, if I do get married and have children, there will hopefully be a day that my children decide to pick up the books for the first time, taking in every word as I did, eager to find out what happens next.
Most of all, though, I'll keep the books, films and experiences close to me, because they have become a small part of who I am today. These books made me realize how much I love reading for the sake of reading rather than for a few Accelerated Reader points. The many wonderful themes will stick with me, the ones of love, friendship, and many more. Jo Rowling is one of my inspirations for wanting to be a writer. The characters of Luna Lovegood and Ron Weasley--and Snape, too--will always be models to look at when thinking about character. Through these books I've met many people, discovered and fallen in love with Wizard Rock--which led me to meeting even MORE people--and being a part of something more. There is so much more that I will encounter in my life, but I will carry every single aspect of this with me; it's part of me.
*My friend Alicia posted another BRILLIANT R/Hr video on her FB, and I love this one as much as the other one. It's soooo good....where does she find these things? And whoever made it should get an award or something. Seriously.
The last time I had my hair super short was when I was in 2nd grade. So when I was frustrated with my semi-long, still-growing-out-the-color, and I knew that I wanted to eventually grow it out super long to donate it to Locks of Love, the logical option seemed to be for me to get it cut super short for a fresh start, and just let it grow.
This morning I went to (literally) the closest salon to my apartment. I brought in these for ideas, because I loved the look of the styles*, and I was insanely curious about what I would look like with something similar. It was also incredibly different from what I'd had in the past.
I told the hairdresser my plan, explaining that while I brought these in, I was aware that these cuts may not be the best for my face shape (and let's face it, my hair does not want to cooperate with anything it doesn't like, which usually is everything I tried to do with it). At first, the hairdresser said the longer style would be the better option, because I need "volume on the sides because your face is so long."
As she was washing my hair, however, she said, "It is really hard to grow out short hair."
I asked her why, and she explained it was mostly due to that crazy, awkward middle-stage where it looks odd and all sorts of other things go wrong in the world (that last bit was an over-exaggeration; she didn't say that exactly, but I felt like she was making it out to be a big travesty...).
"How about we try a just-above-the-shoulder cut--just to see how you feel about it--with maybe bangs? If you don't like it, then you can always go shorter. I'm worried that you'll be upset if it's too short."
She had a point; it wouldn't hurt to ease myself into it. I agreed to do it, and she began cutting. We opted for no in regard to the bangs, because we both felt it was working well as it was. Here is the finished product:
I was really pleased with it. It's definitely something that I haven't yet tried, and I feel it's very sophisticated and "grown-up"--something I need to be considering since I'm a year from graduation. (Plus, it reminds me vaguely of a Cilla Black style, which is good). It was a nice surprise. The only thing I have with it, though, is that I wanted to take a risk. I honestly wanted to see what it would look like that short, having to deal with the the success or the failure, whichever it was. I can understand the concern with the weird in-between stage....but I feel like I can work through that, look beyond the fear how bad it may look, and embrace it. After all, that that time between before and after is just as important--and makes things interesting. You know?
The worst thing about it, though, is that it won't ever look this nice after I wash it next. I can't ever achieve the same kind of styling awesome as the hairdressers. The One-Day-Hair-Awesome is short-lived.
*You know how much I love Emma Watson? I feel the same way about Mandy Moore. She is one of my heroes. SHE. IS. AWESOME.
So here's my thing with The Glee Project. I had not originally planned to watch it, because I have mixed feelings about reality shows (the only one I watch--if I happen to catch it--is America's Next Top Model, but even that is seldom). I didn't want a stigma associated with a show that I'm so passionate about, and I just wasn't sure what was to be gained from going through with the idea. Most importantly, I didn't want Glee, the only current television show that I have not yet gotten tired of (and actually enjoyed completely), to be tainted by this thing that I could not fathom.
But after thinking about it a LOT, I decided at the very last minute that I would watch it. I was curious. I wanted the contestants--and most especially the winner--to prove to me that this was worth it. And I really wanted to see them as the character they are playing, not the person. I wanted to see what they could bring.
And thus begins the Round-Up.
I'm digging the general arrangement of the episode. The structure itself feels organic to what they're wanting to do with it, and I was not bored at all (In fact, I was surprised a couple of times because there was so much in there). The time is well used, and I think that if they continue in this vein, it will keep things interesting. Plus, it means less drama stuff and more doing stuff. I'm more concerned with the "doing stuff" part.
"Signed, Sealed, Delivered" is such a great song. Please explain to me why they haven't yet done it on Glee?
Have I mentioned how awesome Darren Criss is? I loved how constructive and thorough his thoughts were when he was critiquing the contestants' performances. (And it was nice to see the quick clip of his advice to Matheus.) Darren definitely knows what he's doing, and it shows. I hope this kind of thing continues.
I LOVED Hannah, Alex, Cameron, Damian, and Matheus. To me, they felt the most in tune and honest with their own individuality, and were not afraid to be themselves.
I wasn't so impressed with Lindsay. She was borderline for me this week (and I feel like it's going to get worse as the weeks go on.) I'm also not sure how to handle Samuel, but I have some hope for the future....Marissa, too, is borderline.
Let's talk professionalism for a second. Emily does not seem to have nor understand it. Her superficial attitude aside, it was not okay for her to be flirting with the guest judge, and I had the feeling every time I face-palmed that she didn't quite understand what Glee is about--and it certainly doesn't have anything to do with her hair flip or her chest (and though she claims the otherwise, flipping her hair does NOT make her different. Being more than what's on the outside does). There's a difference between having attitude and being conceited. I'm having trouble being patient with her inappropriate (and often sickeningly on the verge of suggestive) demeanor, and I sincerely hope that she is eliminated soon. I think I read somewhere that she was trained at LaGuardia in NYC--and I am not seeing anything I expected from a student from such a significant performance institution. You know?
I wasn't sure what to do with Bryce. He, like Emily, seemed unprofessional in some of his interactions, and I felt he kept flip-flopping in what he was about. I didn't mind his elimination. I think he'll go really far, I just feel Glee isn't going to get him there.
I really like how there is a constant critique going on. It's really interesting to see the judges' process and to see them working with each of the kids to overcome and achieve the goals they've been given. (And I love how honest Zach and Robert are with them. There's no sugar-coating.)
Oh, first episode naivety. You're so funny. What you don't realize is that you all will, at some point, be at each other's throats. That's how reality shows work. The drama is what people will return to.
Best moment this episode? Hands down Damian's performance of "Jesse's Girl"--and Ryan Murphy's reaction. And after all that? Damian kept his cool and handled it really well. Cool points to him. Awesome.
I love the constant reminders/tidbits about the original show. The judges urging them to be themselves, to be okay with themselves and the mistakes they make, because that is part of what makes them who they are.
And honestly, it's been a long time since I've felt this oh so special right-before-a-Jo-Rowling-Announcement-of-Awesome. You know, the ones right before a title or release date was announced, or even the W.O.M.B.A.T.s, behind the door on her website. The hint of mystery, the theories, the act of just trying to figure out the puzzle, all seemed to fit into this place I cannot fully describe to you with the justice it deserves.
Cue Pottermore, which evidently won't be released for another 6 days (!!!). And then there is this interesting development. Leaky, too, has gathered bits o' speculation/facts that sum up the general feeling of excitement/intrigue.
It is almost like we've used a Time Turner to go back to when we were dissecting possible meanings of character names and titles and whatever other bits of information we knew. I say "almost," because while this is a huge thing, it won't ever be able to replicate the feeling of not knowing the end of the series. The feeling of being on the verge of knowing.
It will, and is already, however, creating a very different feeling of anticipation and excitement. It's a new world for the fandom. Whatever Pottermore is, it's going to be huge. And we're ready to dive right back in.
Jo Rowling, you are amazing. I, and the rest of the world, cannot wait to see what's next. :)
Also: Go to the YouTube page and just wave your mouse over the tree and the owls. Seriously. *is awed, amazed, excited, and lasdfjalsglaskdgj*
Emma Watson has been interviewed for the latest issue of Vogue. Seriously. With every article and interview of hers I read, the more respect I have for her. She's talented, intelligent, and thoughtful. And she is so compassionate when it comes to the things she believes in. I simply cannot wait to see what she accomplishes in the future.
It's days like this I feel I need to remind myself that there is such a thing as sanity, and so I immerse myself in things like this. I'll let the clip speak for itself.
Acceptance opens doors, makes room for change, diffuses misunderstanding. Every day, people commit hate crimes because of misunderstandings. Hate effects the target, and consumes the person behind the gun. It is crazy to realize that we have been in war for almost our entire existence on this planet. Many times for reasons of greed and hate.
Quotage #2:
We can’t always put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. But we can try....I am lucky to live in a place where I can wear almost anything that I want to express myself, and that jail is not a probable consequence. Which makes me feel as if I should exercise my right to do so every now and then. Think of the people that have died because of their passion and heartfelt hopes of change? So many good men and women. All because of an inherent wish for tolerance, love and support.
What a beautiful message and gesture. (She's always quite eloquent and thoughtful on her tumblr, but something about this post makes it extra important.) I think we tend to forget that this kind of hatred is still there and still very real--as unfortunate as it is--in today's society. I've been doing a lot of reading on the Civil Rights movement for my history class, and the more I read about it, the angrier and more horrified I become. How is it that human nature can turn so ugly when one doesn't understand or does not try to understand something that society deems different and unacceptable? How can someone hate another so much because of the color of their skin or their religion or sexual orientation or whatever makes them different? And it's not just limited to the racism of the past and today, but also homophobia, like Dianna Agron points out, something our society deals with on a daily basis.
All because we don't try to understand our world and most especially the people we interact with. We are all different, and that's what makes us unique. We are all human. In the words of Gaga, we are born this way. So why are we so set on judging someone else because they are so different from us? What will we gain from the hatred and intolerance?
Thank you, Dianna, for your inspiration and beautiful thoughts. #letlovein
(Edit: Deconstructing Glee brings up a couple excellent points with this as well. Agreed on all counts.)
With the exception of maybe Prisoner of Azkaban, I have a firm belief that at least on of the deleted scenes for each of the Harry Potter films should have been included in the final cut. I don't have a lot of quips when it comes to Deathly Hallows Part 1, because there's still a whole half of the film to see, but there are a few of the deleted scenes I really wish they'd included in the movie.
The Petunia/Harry scene is a given (Prince's Tale, anyone?). That should have been there. Somewhere. I don't care where. But also, I really, really wanted the skipping stones scene to be included.
Reasons This Scene Should Have Been Included in the Final Cut:
This would have contributed positively to the emotions felt when Ron leaves later.
It's incredibly adorable to watch Hermione pretend like she doesn't know what the hell she's doing. (And it's very Hermione of her to let Ron show her how to do something she probably already knows.)
You see a glimpse of Aberforth, which is crucial for setting up for Part 2.*
It's a nice pause moment, much like the one earlier in the film of Hermione teaching Ron how to play Fur Elise on the piano. (I mean, overall, both scenes serve basically the same function, but I'm selfish.)
I'm a Ron/Hermione shipper, and any moment of them building up to their relationship is like candy to me. Plus, it's another excuse to poke Heidi and Prairie, who are Harry/Hermione shippers. :) **
And then there's the tent discussion.
Ron mentions the taboo, which would help explain why the Snatchers suddenly show up at the Lovegoods (because Xeno says the name).
It actually explains a LOT about the particulars of being on the run. Without it, those who haven't read the books will be confused as to why things happen as they do.
Harry lists the horcruxes they know about at that point. That's also important for Part 2.***
I also really, really like the mention of the locket's heartbeat. But that's just me.
*They really, really need to explain the mirror well. As of Part 1, there is no explanation for why Harry is carrying it around--and sufficiently OBSESSED with it, and I want them to be able to make up for the fact that it was never explained in OotP...
**Have you seen this R/Hr fanvideo? A friend of mine posted it shortly after Part 1 came out, and it popped up on my newsfeed, and since then I've been very near obsessed with it.
***Also, I'm curious how they have the trio find out about the cup and the diadem. You know, since Dumbledore never gave any info about them to Harry in the HBP film.
Don't you love New York in the fall? Makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. (from the beginning of You've Got Mail)
For my 21st birthday, I received precisely two gifts from my sister (or, at least, I think it was just two; I could be forgetting one). One was a fantasy-themed trashy romance novel (of which I have not gotten past page two to this day, and my 21st was a considerable time ago), in response to an ongoing inside joke we have. The other was a beautiful bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils. And it was one of the best gifts I've ever been given.
I adore You've Got Mail. It was released when I was in elementary school, and Mom fell in love with it, and like dominoes, my sister and I fell for it too. I remember standing in line for lunch one day, talking to Jeremy, a classmate, who had started talking about something related to The Godfather. After he was done talking, I looked at him and said, without a trace of silliness, "What is it with men and 'The Godfather'?" That's what the movie meant to me.
As the years have gone on, I've grown to appreciate it for more and very different reasons. It's not just that I can understand and fully appreciate the 'adultishness' of it now, but what understanding of it I had transcended itself naturally as I grew. The movie was put out at a time when the internet was just beginning to take hold. There's Frank, with his three typewriters, who is yet distrustful of computers and what they have to offer. The common form of social networking was strictly chat rooms and email. The depiction of New York City is lovely; whenever I get to visit NYC, I hope it to be as magical and bustling as what I've watched over and over on screen. And I have to visit it in the fall. That is a must--at least for the first time, anyway.
The moments of beauty that one might miss, like Kathleen talking about twirling, the butterfly on the subway, the emotion and the honesty of each of the exchanged emails, the arrangement of Joe's family, Joe's time spent in a broken elevator, the shot of Kathleen preparing to go to the mattresses, the caviar garnish, twinkle-lights, the music...it almost comes to a point where there are so many things with which I'm overcome with adoration that I lose my words.
And then there's the bookishness of it all. References to Betsy and Tacy, Ballet Shoes, and Pride and Prejudice...and don't even get me started on The Shop Around the Corner.
My personal bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils currently sits on my desk under my bulletin board. As pictured above, it's framed by two illustrations Heidi gave me from her sketchbook and the Macbeth finger puppets I bought in Stratford-Upon-Avon. The gift itself may seem strange to some people, and I get that: who are you to just sharpen pencils and never use them? That's such a waste.
It's something deeper than that, though. It's the magic of Kathleen's and Joe's relationship, the way it's constructed, the purity of it, the fact that words themselves are the energy driving their lives, both literally and figuratively. The simple things, the beauty of the idea. The creation from something so everyday. Little things that tie people together, whether it be a story of a butterfly on the subway, or the daily endeavors of one Brinkley.
But also, and most importantly, the gift surpasses the meaning the movie has for me. I look at it daily and think of my sister: our shared love for the movie, our mutual adoration for the idea of a bouquet made entirely of school supplies. Our childhood and the memories which we share and differ. Sisterly love and understanding. A bond. In a way, she gave me a piece of us, as cliche as that sounds. That bouquet will always represent that for me. And it will always be just in sight, the first thing I see in the morning, the last thing I see before I sleep.
Heidi and I are both cat freaks. We grew up with cats in the house, and as soon as I have the power to, I will have a cat living with me. It's very important to both of us.
Soon after discovering the Sunday Funnies, both of us fell in love with the Garfield comic strip because it was one of the funniest things we'd ever seen and it featured a snarky cat who did as he pleased (and whose favorite food was lasagna). So when Heidi showed this to me, years later, I went kind of nuts. Simple, but highly effective. My favorite part is when the cat points at the fly and meows.
The best part? This is exactly what Naomi, my cat back home, does. Hilarious. Thank you, guy who makes "Simon's Cat". I needed this in my life.
I know I've said many times before that I think too much. And trust me, it's true. Tonight's one of those nights I have far too much on my mind to concentrate on getting through the 100 pages of reading on America in the 1960s that's technically due tomorrow.
The last ten months or so have been really hard to get through; the higher-level drawing classes have taken over everything, so much that sometimes it was almost too much to handle. I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to be doing post-graduation, because time is slipping away far more quickly than I'd like. Grad school? Yes. Right away or wait? I haven't decided. Out of state? Definitely. Where? I have no clue.
Can I get something off my chest? There's also this kinda-sorta-there-but-not-really pressure that I've noticed has cropped up since about a year ago. I'm at an age in which most of my classmates from high school have graduated--I wouldn't be surprised if I'm the only one still in undergrad at this point, but it doesn't really matter anyway--and have since embarked on the rest of their lives. As Facebook is prone to do, bits and pieces of their lives have made themselves known on my newsfeed. A lot of them are married and/or have kids. It's weird to realize that we're already old enough to even consider those two things.
And part of me feels that I'm desperately behind in this department. One of the boys I was friends with in high school starting chatting with me on FB a couple of months ago, and one of the first things he asked about was how the "marriage situation" was for me. Call me [crazy, cranky, insert adjective here], but I was slightly offended. Aside from the fact that dating has recently become a touchy subject for me (due to lack of it period) I didn't want to have to pour my heart out to someone I hadn't seen or talked to in years. I'm a different person than I was however long ago it is, and for them to make assumptions really bothered me. What did they mean, these questions? Was I a failure of a person because I had not found a special someone?
The other part of me then responds with a firm "No. You are Heather. Your path is set in the way it was meant to be: for you and you alone. You do not--and should not--have to compare yourself to the expectations of those you grew up with; what they may or may not expect should not dictate how you are to be or how you are to live your life." Brandi and I have talked a lot about this; she has often told me to tell them to "suck it"--Brandi-speak for "you are who you choose to be"--as well as many versions of this basic idea. And honestly? I may be ready for a relationship, but I'm not at a point in which I'm ready to have a family. I'm still figuring out where the hell I'm headed in life.
Let me be clear: I am not saying that my classmates have this expectation--this is just my brain making stuff up. I know I'm the last thing on their minds, because, hey: they have their own lives.
And then there is the prospect of The Official 5 Year Reunion, which I have decided I am not attending, because:
A) I know I won't have a good time and
B) As stated above, I'm a very different person that I was 5 years ago and
C) I really don't have any desire to converse with anyone, no matter if they were my best friends or the person who called me fat or Heifer or tore up a drawing and then dangled it in front of my face (perhaps I'll have to share that story sometime...it's an interesting one). At least, not yet. It's much too soon to tackle that. It has to happen at some point, but now is not that time.
And then there's the prospect of moving again at the end of July, and my on-and-off arguments with Amanda (over stupid misunderstandings, as usual). We also talked a little about the Civil Rights movement today in my history class, and the more I started thinking about how many people died during the riots and the racist attitudes toward African Americans that much of the country had (and part of which still has) during that time, the angrier I became. And then of course, I started thinking about all the homophobia the world has today, and the omnipresent racism that we have yet to vanquish...
That's not to mention a few other things I'm thinking about. Perhaps all this thinking has been spurred by the fact I've been taking classes for the last six months straight and am desperately in need of a break.
Edit June 9: In retrospect, I realize that I probably sound really annoying/rude here, and I am terribly sorry if anyone was offended or annoyed. That wasn't my intention. I had a lot on my mind, and I let myself lose it for a bit...and much of it came out sounding harsher than I had wanted.
Have I mentioned how much I love Forever Young Adult? I know I haven't posted a lot about it thus far, but rest assured I will tell you more as time goes on. They're kind of my heroes.
Anyway, they posted a clever, witty, and totally awesome response to an article that was recently published in the Wall Street Journal misinterpreting the way YA as a whole works. It is awesome (the rebuttal, not the original criticisms), and I agree with their assessment of how the WSJ handled the argument.
Slightly related: FYA has also posted their analysis of the new Breaking Dawn trailer (which was AWFUL, by the way, but made me laugh my butt off because not only did they show sexy times on Isle Esme, but also teased at pregnant Bella. HAHAHAHA). The analysis is hilarious. I love FYA so much.
There are few songs that have played on the radio in the last ten years that have given me that soaring feeling every single time, and Train is certainly at the top of the list. I heard this on the radio earlier today while at work, and it hit me that I had almost forgotten about it.
This was my very first ringtone on my very first phone. It makes me think of all the other great songs I listened to in high school that were on radio airplay at the time: Michelle Branch,Maroon 5....decent, decent stuff. I fear that today's music doesn't always have the same je ne sais quoi as music from the early 2000s did. Perhaps it was carrying over from all of the great 90s stuff...I don't know. I'm not an expert by any means. I just know what sounds good to me.
Also, thinking about this makes me feel old. Because, you know, it came out about 8 years ago.
Since this summer will most likely be the last one I get to savor fully (for the time being), the next the one I plan to cap off my college experience with Something Very Big and Probably Spontaneous. Summer has always been a reprieve. It is the silver lining on the haze of the rest of the year. So much can happen in the space of three months--and it can be anything.
The summer between junior high and high school, my friend Jael and I made a pact to prepare for high school. As far as we were concerned, there was a set of guidelines to follow. The top of the list was that high school girls had tans. So, we went to the pool every day for two weeks to sit in the sun for an hour to build one up--and I remember having a very mild one across my shoulders. The day I finished eighth grade, I felt different. For the rest of the summer, I spent my free time reading, working on the first two pencil drawings I knew would be due for my first high school art class. I wrote a lot that summer. I had finished that novella that I'm now slightly ashamed of. I started my second novel idea--which I have never finished to this day. The soundtrack that summer was Vanessa Carlton's "Be Not Nobody," a CD I listened to over and over as I was writing though at the time I didn't like most of the songs on the album. I made an over-the-shoulder bookbag from an old canvas Boogarts shopping bag, using a leopard striped seatbelt shoulder thing as part of the strap. I dieted the whole summer after talking to a dietician, walking every morning with my mom and keeping track of my calorie intake. We would sit out on the porch after our return to eat breakfast. I tried to get into a beauty regime. The diet, the tan, and Neutrogena were my passes to impressing boys and the rest of the student body. I don't think it actually worked, but at the time I had hope.
That was the summer after Grandpapa passed away, the one before the last summer we saw Grandmama before she died. I looked through Grammy's photo albums for pictures I wanted to draw for art, finding a stack that I worked my way through. I carried around two sketchbooks and a stack of magazines (mostly relating to Harry Potter) that I drew from. Apart from the family stuff and our Michigan trip, I spent a lot of time by myself, reading, drawing, writing, watching music videos, thinking.....I remember sitting in the living room one afternoon, staring out the screen of the front door, willing someone to come over. Though I appreciate now the time I had to ponder, to prepare myself for what would come, I should have involved myself more. But there was hardly anyone left to involve myself with, because the end of eighth grade was such a grand disaster.
I did, however, get involved in some form during the summers, though it varied depending on the particular summer. For many of them, I was a part of a kids' theater/singing group. I was Dorothy in "The Wiz," Nala in "The Lion King,"and sang many songs like "Aquarius" and "The Time Warp" (which I will never ever tire of). And then there was the community theater group I was involved with, whether it was having a small part in the ensemble or working as a techie. I loved every minute of these experiences--I'm a proud drama kid--though some productions weren't as fun as others and I hated striking the set. But there were so many little "defining moments" from not only being on stage or waiting just offstage to switch out a set, or even waiting for the next cue in the warm high school hallways with the other members of the cast. It became a part of me. It was only during my final involvement with the theater group--that summer's musical was "Will Roger's Follies"--where it just wasn't fun anymore, and I wanted out. That was the summer I almost quit, the last summer I spent in my hometown. I needed to get away from the patterns I was seeing, because a lot of it made me sick. That's not to say that I wouldn't be up to doing theater again in the future--it's just that by that summer, I began to see through the illusion and understand the dynamics of the people I'd grown up with, and I could not handle it anymore.
In junior high and high school, I joined a summer reading group for teens that was held every Thursday. It was called Lunch Bunch, and we would sit picnic style in the conference room at the public library (go libraries!) and eat our lunches, do an activity, and then talk about what we were reading that week. By the time I joined this group (probably right after I finished 6th grade or 7th grade, I can't remember the exact year), I was looking for more to read, and I remember meandering to the YA section for the first time, somewhere I hadn't been before. There was a different feeling standing in front of those few shelves, inspecting the books to find a good one. It seemed...dangerous, and from there, I have never looked back. I'm almost positive that the first summer I was a part of Lunch Bunch, I read a book called That Summer by Sarah Dessen, and it seemed like my life changed, even if it really didn't. I loved being a part of it, and I really miss it.
The summer between my freshman and sophomore years, I spent a lot of time by myself. I read nineteen books--an accomplishment I was very proud of--and began driving lessons. It was a big summer; I was fifteen, and I was determined to be more grown up. I started carrying a purse with me everywhere because I had a learner's permit. My driving instructor rejoiced when I finally drove over 60 miles an hour on the highway. I remember really, really wanting to be a good driver. That was my mantra as I started building up my driving hours: "You need to be a good driver, you need to be a good driver..." Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix came out that summer, and I lost myself in its 800+ pages. It's still my second favorite HP book (the top spot is held by DH). That was also the last summer we went to Michigan and saw my grandmother; she died the following October. I did not know the following school year would be so bad, and it was. Royally. I was incredibly relieved when summer came again.
I know I'm probably not making a lot of sense in this post. As usual, I've been thinking too much and the start of summer vacation has prompted a whole lot of memories that I had almost forgotten I had. There is a certain something about it, though, that keeps me interested. I love reading YA books about summers--and Sarah Dessen is the queen when it comes to good summer reads, whether they're set in summer or not. There's something about the freedom, the liberation in a road trip or vacation, the sounds of thunderstorms, the peace from watching the stars, listening to the crickets and the cicadas, swimming and getting out and just being....I'll probably return to this at some point.
