things that are good:

The last 30 seconds of "Wheels" by Cake where the lead singer starts in singing "WHY YOU SAY YOU ARE NOT IN LOVE WITH ME?" I like to sing it loudly while I walk from the parking lot to my apartment at night. Sometimes it gets a response.

Lauren Ming's apartment, as seen from the soccer field on my way inside. Namely, the large fome finger that I always thing kind of looks like a giant fake turd, and the makeshift poster of George Clooney she has on the wall. She has a ton of cool stuff on her wall, but something in George's expression, that twinkle in his eye makes me think that nothing could go wrong on his watch. I'm not even especially fond of George Clooney in reality.

The moon. It's been so beautiful lately with all of this odd weather-- it's either raining or very sunny, so the moon is either like a perfect pane of glass or a very bright star with eerie clouds passing, I like to think, through it.

Nice teeth.

Buffalo '66. Specifically, this scene, which is so charming weird and, uh, kinda beautiful.
This movie was not at all what I thought it was going to be, and while it's on the self-indulgent side sometimes I still thought it was pretty fantastic. I especially loved these sorts of moments (click on the picture to see the youtube vid, it's wonderful):



actually, just add christina ricci to the list. she's always weirded me out but she finally won me over with Black Snake Moan and now this one.

Hell Yes by Beck. I hate Beck, aside from the general line "I'm a driver, I'm a winner" which my old driving instructor used to chant to me. Anyway, HY makes me want to be a japanese robot. in a good way. Mostly the "my beat is correct" part. and the creepy "hi."

There's a funny little guy in one of my screenwriting classes. This week we started work-shopping scripts, and another screenwriter had written a fairy-tale comedy for us to read aloud. She gave the part of a dancing dwarf or something to this kid, and he proceeded to sing the lines loudly and emphatically, one line being "RING AROUND THE FAIRY..." He was dedicated to that role. I hope he gets an Oscar someday.

A voicemail from a few weeks ago was listened to today, and I heard my friend Dominic at the tail end of the message say "I miss you." It was unexpected, unremembered, and great. A rare, earnest "I miss you" as if in that very moment there was an abyss in his life because I am not there. I replayed it.

The story "The Judge's House" by Bram Stoker. I had to read it for my Irish Gothic class, and devoured it. There are two incredibly creepy moments in that story, but the one that made me actually say "DRAT" out loud in a room by myself involved the book-throwing bit. Right now I'm reading Dracula, by the same fellow of course, and I have to admit the guy is good.

I'm a bad Shakespeare student, so I basically haven't been to class in forever. But we had the privilege to read (or in most cases reread) the Merchant of Venice last week, and this line (as a part of Shylock's amazing speech that I have always loved) just makes my heart gasp:
"If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
I'm a Shylock fan, I really am.

Creamsicles. They make me remember life in Florida, in fact many specific moments of me breaking from splashing around in my kiddie pool and watching creepy giant rainbow lizards to trot up to the backdoor and take an orange creamsicle from my mom. This weekend I splurged and bought a box of them. They're all gone now.

This totally odd picture:

yes. that is marlon brando. AND jack nicholson.

The realization that someday I'll probably make a good film theory teacher. Actually, I'd make a good film theory teacher now.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being. The book. Not the movie. The book has some utterly beautiful moments, even if the book as a whole doesn't feel.. like a whole.

The way Virginia Slim cigarettes look between someone's fingers.

That my bed currently has 6 diet sunkist cans balancing precariously on its edge and my room-mate hasn't said anything.

Very Serious Kids Riding Scooters (good band name). Today while I was walking from class to class, I heard a rolly- sound behind me and noticed a tot, part of the daycare program they have going on here or something, rolling close behind me on his scooter. I smiled that condescending smile that you smile at little kids and kept going, but he gets next to me and gives me this serious look like "you think i'm playing, old lady? imma beat you." He proceeded to keep up with my pace, all the way to my class, where he finally turned around.

The sun reflects off of the apartment across from us, illuminating the room at about 9AM, even though we're in the basement.

A repair man came to our apartment last semester and broke our blinds, so we have an awkward, totally split blind. I'm really fond of it, kind of like George Bailey and his staircase thingy.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. - Deuteronomy 31:6 .... kinda speaks for itself. <3

and no list of happiness is complete without my once and future husband, robert downey jr. specifically, in zodiac, in which his 70's chic outfits make me want to find a time machine built for two.

but slowly, slowly!

That's the quote i keep hearing in my head as i try to build myself back up and pull it together. nothing is going to happen overnight, but change must occur. it must. i have been productive so far- not as much as i'd like to be, as i determine i must be late at night or when i wake up in the morning, but still. i'm making progress. i'm applying for jobs and internships and reading like mad, i'm writing somewhat, i'm spouting ideas, i'm not wallowing in loneliness. i'm not psyched to be back but i don't feel wretched and desperately lonely as i have at the start of semesters past. this is partially because i have decided that i don't care, that i have no expectations from the people of this school, and only, really, of myself. the other part is that i have lessened- well, maybe not lessened, perhaps more like brought into a realistic light- my own load, my own demands of myself. things will change, the snail will climb mount fiji, but slowly, slowly! these are decisions i made over break, and they are good ones for me. i came back to school with thoughts of "yes, it's time to do things. it's time to work. and that will feel good." also, i will be done, done with school by May 8th (O fateful day)... so perhaps that's the only reason. i like to think not, however.

here are things i am thinking for my future as of tonight:
this summer: work in ventura while job searching elsewhere; mainly LA and NYC
fall: move to NYC. work in NYC. if no job in NYC, then a trip to NYC is in order. continue to work.
spring: continue job in nyc or in la.
summer 2011: leave for europe. travel. work. whatever.
fall: grad school in europe.
while in europe, travel. see everything. run away. once done running, come back to ventura. get job in la. travel someplace ridiculous every year. write screenplays. write stories. write books. make movies. maybe fall in love, maybe not.
probably not.

By 26 or 27 I should be back in Ventura after gallavanting, unless I decide to stay someplace along the way. Yes.

In the meantime, work hard. Pay off debt. Lose weight. Write, write, write. Go to concerts, read, learn music, work on languages, grow hair out, take care of self, become better organized, take every trip that I may take in good conscience. I want to live and make up for the life that I've unwittingly wasted, either due to my father, my sister, my mom, my financial situation, my appearance, my silly unrequited heart, my own self-imposed boundaries. I realized recently that my father is a fearful man and has made me think that that sort of life is the norm. It is not. I will form myself into an adventurer, I will shake the dust from this town from me. Of course, I will revel in it again as well, I will set up shop and like it. But only after I've become this person I'm in love with. I think I see her in the mirror sometimes, but only for a fragment of a second.

another thing i've realized is that my problems have become so boring. i'm sick of them. i want them gone. easier said than done, but entirely possible.

you are my voice, my microphone.

With every day that passes lately it seems as though there are more and more important things to write about. I wish I had written about every event in great detail, been able to capture my thoughts on every subject and every dry leaf that has slowed my step this month, but that alone is a full-time job. Maybe that's what a writer is, I don't know. I don't think so.With every day that passes lately it seems as though there are more and more important things to write about. I wish I had written about every event in great detail, been able to capture my thoughts on every subject and every dry leaf that has slowed my step this month, but that alone is a full-time job. Maybe that's what a writer is, I don't know. I don't think so.

Lately, I don't know how to describe what's happening. While I think it's dangerous to declare NOTHING coincidence and say that EVERYTHING is connected, I am starting to notice a strange inter-connectivity of events and feelings lately, so much that I'm starting to feel like Albert in I Heart Huckabee's- I have a bit of an existential coincidental crisis. I mean, I always see things as happening for a reason, good or bad (that isn't to say that I believe that bad things always happen and good things result from them- other than building character, I don't think good things always necessarily come from tragedy, but I do trust that there is ultimately a Hand at work in the universe and that God knows what He's doing. But yeah, the Holocaust thing, that was pretty bad...), but I don't think of most things as being specifically intertwined, especially not geared towards me (although of course we are our own martyr or superstar- every story is about us, even when we are only in the periphery of the story). However. This semester (that's how I mark my time) weird stuff has been happening, stuff that I can't help but think is all tied up somehow in a great big knot, and then little weird things have been happening that I know don't mean anything, but they tie into little knots-- and therefore I think they're meant to confirm that yes, yes it's relating to my hunch that all the big stuff is related. (see what i mean? three little things adding up to a donut does not have anything to do with my big problems, but the fact that the three unrelated things add up to something may be symbolic that my big unrelated things may add up to a big something).

Also, when I say strange I don't mean supernatural, just largely out of the ordinary for me.

I could discuss those things, but it's too exhausting right now. Some shall be included below, however...

okay. for my little posterity friend, here you are:

One day awhile ago, I went to see the Decemberists at UCLA. I went alone, as per the norm as of the past year, and they were wonderful. I got to really see UCLA in the daytime (it looks so Ivy leauge... maybe it's all the Ivy), and savor my first seated, no-opening-act concert. They were FANTASTIC-- their first set was the entirety of their new concept album, Hazards of Love, and then when they popped back out for the second set they totally engaged the audience and Colin Meloy might well be the funniest person on the planet, and they played new and old and got the audience to sing and clap and ooh. It was just great. My row was full of weird people I didn't want to be with... dancing, please stop the awkward dancing.. but still, the audience was really into it. I suppose the best bits were the start of Billy Liar (BILLY LIAR'S GOT HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS!- everyone went nuts), their cover of Crazy on You (their guest women singers KILLED it- amazing voices), and their last song, Sons and Daughters, which is so them and such a hopeful song. Meloy got the audience to sing "hear all the bombs fade away" as they riffed and sang away and stole into the night. That was really beautiful and lovely. I will complain that they didn't play alot of my old favorites, mainly Engine Driver from Picaresque and Summersong and July, July and mostly Architect, which would have made my life. But still. I think it was the best concert I've been to (yes, Foriegner is the best rock concert. And Hush Sound was the best for the experience. and Bob was amazing because... well, I saw Bob Dylan.) I didn't take any pictures, but that's okay. I was very happy there. Afterwards I walked to Diddy Reese to get some cookies, got a bit lost, but finally made my way back to fraternity row and found my car again. Good night.

I then had a really rough week or two. I felt really horrible and the campus felt really tense. I felt as though I was making no progress and that I have really been wasting my time, most of the time. And not in a good John Lennon way. I felt horrible and useless and crazy and so saddened by myself and my tendency to fail at what I see as "everything". I do not live up to the standards I feel I should have, and I am so disappointed. LMU went crazy for three weeks- the first, a crazy kid got racially threatening by pounding on doors and screaming about lynching and creepy stuff like that (and some girls got stalked in a car? dunno about that). the second, our homecoming saw many parties shut down and 3 kids rushed to the hospital due to ODing (though I'm pretty certain they lived). The next weekend, a fraternity kid, a senior, shot himself in the head. My room-mate, as well as a ton of other people, knew him, and the cloud that descended over the campus after that was pretty stifling. Nobody really knew how to take it.

That same week I found out that not only was my oldest friend (of 20 years) was pregnant, I later found out that she gave premature birth to a baby boy and that he was struggling for his life. He has turned out okay, he gets stronger every day.

That same week my cat, my old sweet cat got attacked by a fucking dog and died. She did die after receiving medical attention and love from my parents, so at least she didn't die huddling under some shed somewhere- I hope she died knowing that someone loved her and would have stopped her from being hurt if we could. I really loved that cat so much, I had her for 14 years, and she loved me no matter how grumpy or ugly I was. When I was so deeply depressed in 2006 I hardly ever got out of bed- literally only getting up to check the computer or to shower and brush my hair if I had received warning that someone was coming over. But my stupid cat loved me, and she'd scratch at my unsealable door until it moved enough to let her slide in, and she'd hop up on my bed and curl up in the same spot by my feet. She knew I wanted her there. She also did the weirdest thing when I'd pick her up and say hi, she'd sniff my lips and nose without touching me with her face. I'm so not a kiss-your-pet person, but it was like affection that we both understood. I loved my cat. She loved me. It's hard to come by, love is.

My mom had surgery; she had a giant benign tumor removed from her stomach, as well as a hesterectemy (if that's how you spell it); removal of the uterus. She's recovering okay, but it was very costly.

I discovered that due to a believe-it-or-not SMALL miscalculation on my part, I was overdrawn at the bank without knowing it. The small overdraft became larger as I continued to charge things, assuming I had 400 dollars in the damn account. Well, for every overdraft there's 35 dollar fine. I made several purchases. Over a weekend, I was negative more than 700 hundred dollars. I have no way of paying this off, as well as other bills to pay. Fuck.

Double-fuck: Cannot find job. Never found internship.

Triple-fuck: My student account at LMU has announced that I never got all of the loan I thought I had- thus, I owe 7,000 for this semester not to mention NEXT semester. I must pay for this semester before I can register for next semester. My last semester. I cannot pay this. I cannot find any other student loans. I have no co-signer. I need to register. If I can't, I cannot come back next semester. I will have to put off graduation. Fuck fuckity fuckstein. I really want to graduate, I really want to fly away, I really want to vanish into Europe and never ever come back to this wretched place*. I'm scared and flailing down the infinite abyss-- Zach Braff, we were once friends (actually, according to a dream I had, boyfriend and girlfriend in a very clean apartment). What happened?

The Very Good Thing that happened is to follow accordingly, as well as the Very Bad Thing.

here comes the blind comissioner

Last night I went to one of Bob Dylan's three concerts in Hollywood. It was... quite something.

I'm beginning to notice something about myself and concerts-- apparently they're pretty momentous occasions. I don't know if it's because I'm a sensitive person or if I overthink or if my heart is just a special kind that wants to burst at the slightest expansion, but at concerts or any momentous occasion to me I seem to realize on several levels that it's momentous, so much so that perhaps I fail to be in the moment because I know I should be in the moment. I can't help it. I know that life is short-- maybe I realize that more than some young people (for no particular reason- I'm neither naive nor overfamiliar with death or anything) so I want to wallow and soak and let things carry me away, but of course they never will be able to lift me if I'm aware of them-- if I throw myself at them. Yes, sometimes they get by me anyway, but I can't help but think I feel things a bit differently. I think I am Tereza from Unbearable Lightness-- the world is heavy.

Point is, the concert was a strangely surreal experience-- as alot of them have been, but this one in particular for a few reasons. One, I was alone and thus... well, we'll get to that. Two, it's so bizarre to see a figure you're so familiar with not a few yards from you- someone you feel like you know, but who does not and will not know you ever. In a way you are a voyeur. Three, Bob Dylan in particular has so much significance attached to him (for me, I can't imagine the oldsters's experience). He's a co-founder of rockn'roll, modern folk, pop songs with deep significance. No one is like Bob Dylan, no one has his mythic history or his image. I realize all that IS indeed image (and I have theories about that too, mostly concluding with my opinion that he has no personality of his own left), but still. It's a pretty affecting image. I look at him like I look at a beautiful old building or pictures of Europe-- the complexity, the history, the magnificent things that have passed before it/him and, furthermore, the beautiful and strange things he has created. The history alone gives me chills. I don't want to make him out to be a god or even a musician who can do no wrong (because lord knows he can) but it is a rather striking and strange feeling to be in the same concert hall as that.

That said, I faded in and out of that surreal feeling throughout the event. He didn't do anything to help- he didn't speak until the end when he introduced the band. He sang and played the keyboard (never the guitar, alas) and was, well, Bob Dylan. Some moments were absolutely sublime, some songs could have been skipped or replaced with material I would much rather hear- sadly he did not play Desolation Row, which I've had on repeat lately, or Positively 4th Street, or Times (which I suppose he'd feel funny singing now that he belongs to the old world), or Mr. Tambourine Man. He played a few new ones which I was not familiar with but which I liked very much (one being Forgetful Heart, which was pretty moving. now that I listen to it, I really like it, but allow me to say that live it was beautiful). He now sounds much more like Tom Waits so far as voice goes, but his manner and enunciation is still so HIM. Some verses he sang as if he were mocking or asking a question-- in that great Dylan way. It's like an actor choosing the emphasis to put on a particular line that changes the meaning or the joke entirely-- he's good at that. Anyway, it was more of a rock show than anything, and his band was really good. They really slayed Highway 61, and on encore they did a mean version of Rolling Stone (and Jolene? meh) and All Along The Watchtower, which, according to what I've read, played like he always wanted it to sound- electric. It was like hearing Hendrix's version with Dylan singing. Wild.

However, the absolute best best best best part was Ballad of a Thin Man, which ended the first set (before the encore). They stopped moving around the stage, came to the front, the lights dimmed and became cabaret-style (that is to say, most of the place turned dark and the above lights turned off, and then they lit them from the very front of the stage in a kind of amber color. reminded me of a speakeasy or something). He was standing in the middle and just did a KILLER version of it, with his guy on the guitar wailing away and sounding incredible, and him on the harmonica- again, killing it DEAD. Vicious. About halfway through it I realized that the front lighting was casting a massive shadow- his only, nicely done- against the curtain behind him. Man. Eerie as hell. So fitting. I would like to rewind and just experience that again.

The people were strangely nice, too. Unexpected. At one point I abandoned my initial place because jerks encroached, so I moved further to the left of the stage. Eventually more and more people pushed in, but I remained because I could see okay (though there were some freakishly tall people way up front-- jerks. Anyway, I was standing, and there was a gap between me and this super tall guy, but he wasn't IN front of me, just in front and to the side so he wasn't blocking my view, but I didn't want to move up too close to him and piss him off. Plus he looked very self-involved and snobby, and I don't know about these Dylan people. But then, right before Dylan came out, he turned and smiled at me and his whole expression changed. "Do you want to stand in front of me?" He asked. Nicest Dylanite ever. Later, a guy with a hat was somewhat in front of me, and between sets he turned back to see my POV and asked if I could see. So yeah. Despite the blatant little potheads (inside? really, potheads?? clearly nothing stops you [wow, i AM frances mcdormand]) it was incredible. Just great. I drove home in the fog listening to Desolation Row and just thinking.

Such a conflicting feeling, feeling that satisfied and that yearning at the same time.

I'll figure it out someday. Or not.

and i can't deny it

this morning.... i stayed up all night long. i know i'll crash at about 4pm today, but that's okay. point is, i have books, coffee (in a huge alice in wonderland mug), a nice window, an empty apartment, and frank sinatra singing "that's life" in my ear. i love this moment. i love this moment. i love this moment.

thanks.

To the guy who approached me today in the bookstore and told me i was really cute, thank you. the self-pitying girl needed that. i hope you didn't let the self-important laugh or the awkward avoidance on the way out fool you.

TMI, the world screams, but I don't care: horrible, horrible cramps today. Curse Eve, curse babies, curse the female species. This suffering is entirely uncalled for in light of the fact that I probably will not have children. And even if I did--- years of monthly pain, courtship (ie years of awkwardness and an expensive wedding), a ridiculous 9-month pregnacy (huge feet, huge self, morning sickness) all for what will probably be an ugly baby?

I'm being silly now, but really. Come on. They weren't always painful, it seems like just this year they've moved from uncomfortable to unbelievable. People don't understand it if they haven't experienced it-- it's as though a tiny steel fist has grabbed ahold of all of your lower abdominal organs and is squeezing them from the middle. Because of the source of pain being essentially in your stomach you assume you can breath and that will change it, but no. You think a shift in position could make it more tolerable- like a stomach ache. But no. You think relieving yourself will help. But no. Today it was so painful I was sweating and very near throwing up. Eventually I popped 2 tylenol and 3 ib profins-- not reccommended, but finally did the trick. Or maybe it was my plea to God to make the suffering stop. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible to be under strain like that in a house that is not your own-- though going through it in a dorm with a clueless room-mate was also not entirely comfortable. UGH. STUPID.

So someone in my life needs to get married. I have a fever and the only prescription is more weddings. This will also be a plus if I am made godmother to all the little tots that result from said weddings... twill save this period-sufferer from providing myself with my own children. Everyone wins.

So a few months ago I did a happy exercize, listing 5 good things. wir beginnen again.

1. Pride
Yes. Pride comes before a fall, and I am aware of the scrutiny that I will have to handle after this statement, but it has just occurred to me and it has made me very happy, again, especially given my stance on remaining single: i think i have had a good hand in helping people i love. In the past it has been very hard for me to see any positive effect that I could have on anyone. Surely I have been the only person to benefit from friendship, surely I am the one that needs. I have been accused of being needy and weak before, and I have taken it to heart. That is a painful idea to face, but I don't think it's true anymore. I don't think it ever was. The details of that are for another time, but my point is that I have given alot of myself and I think I have left somewhat of a good impression on the recievers. I think those that know me have grown more honest because of me, I think they have grown more affectionate through me. I think more people can say "I love you" now than they could before, and not worry, not be concerned that it is not a cool or manly thing to say. I think more people can talk about themselves with ease, I think more people can read aloud and not worry so much about messing up. I think more people know not to identify a tear with a child. I think more people can be comfortable with themselves, safe in the knowledge that someone loves the daylights out of them.

2. Classes start soon.
I am not relishing my return to the fake-Catholic land, but I am psyched, psyched to the max to be educated again. 2 film studies (Irish and Women in Film... rad), 1 philosophy, 2 screenwriting classes (directing- ie production!!, and writing the sitcom, oh no), and 1 english class (chaucer! all chaucer!! all the time!!). Not to mention a job, volunteering, going to the gym, joining CLC (finally) and the possibility of an internship. I need to find a church, too. I think maybe I will be better this year about going to class...

3. Lack of depression
I don't know if it's because I haven't had the chance, but it seems as if this summer that I've slowly, subtley become less prone to collapse. Maybe I was right back in June after all. I'm still no good at getting up, no good at anxiety, and somewhat lax about hygeine (comes from understanding your own level of attractiveness. a difficult reality when spending time around friends who are 10's while you remain a 3... but wait this is a good list..). I did have a random outburst of emotion at an uncalled for moment, but I think I'm going to be OK.

4. I went to San Francisco.
I have to spare the details of it here because it was a pretty stressful trip for me, but good lord. What a wonderful city. I would like to live there for awhile. It's so alive, but it's not like LA. It's not crudely made, it's historic and beautiful and bridged. All LA has to offer is Hollywood, and even that is grimy and cold in many ways.

5. Sadly I have run out of time. I will think of another good thing or perhaps five more later. Sleep now.

So none of the performances after opening night held a candle to that glorious Wednesday. It was a night of comraderie. We loved everybody and we smoked cigars together and strange embraces were exchanged. Suddenly, it was OK to hug Jesus, Judas was less stand-offish (haha.. funny but true), I could compliment my fellow performers without feeling obligated. I doubt my enthusiasm for their talent was grasped, but I shall now put it into print that must last here and forevermore- i was and will remain touched and incredibly impressed by the talent of these LMU theatre weirdos. They are amazing. I am sorry I am not one of them; I would be very enamored with myself indeed.

I'd like to give a description of the play here for posterity, but I haven't the energy, and I have so much else I must concentrate on. I have some things I wish to cry about right now. But I will only say one thing, and then onto my planned exercize.

one thing: no one came. well, that's not true. Marlena and Lauren attended, and it did my little heart good to see them, peering over Jesus's shoulder at the last supper and beaming with pride. Sadly, they vanished after my main scene. I am glad they saw it. But alas, when I later searched the sea of our audience a friendly face could not be found. I left the crowd quickly and began to clean up. This was to be my fate all 5 nights.

No one came.

There were reasons. For the most part, I understand. But there is still a nagging pitiful bummed-out little whiner in my head who pops up every now and again when I think of it, and she says something along the lines of "if someone wanted to be there, they'd find a way". In certain cases, there was no way. In others... Well. I am sounding petty. I think I am just angry that I ended up feeling "alone again, naturally" even after making a somewhat significant accomplishment for me. I was in a play. A Big Play with Strange Olde Language. I rehearsed every night and weekend since February. Hours. I helped put it together. I poured myself into it, just like everyone else involved. And now it's over and no one came to say, hey, you appear to have survived. I don't need good job. I don't need that. I WANT MY WORK TO BE WITNESSED. This is true of all that I do! This is why I would do anything (walk five hundred miles...) to support anyone I truly care about. If it is not, then what is the point? My effort is who I am. Ah. Life crisis. I am thinking too much about this. One must move on, and I have decided to try not to care about it. I am self-sufficient, I always have been.

Indeed. Perhaps it was technically wrong to wish it in the first place.

which brings us to.

EXERCIZE.

5 wonderful things. go.

1) The sunset here is amazing. I cannot believe that the entire student body does not rush to the bluff every evening to watch the tails of the day vanish into the purple dark, especially when the air is clear. You really can see forever- LA, the glint of building-tops, the winding roads, the hills in the distance, Hollywood in all of its teasing promise, and that beautiful, glorious sea that God has somehow seen fit to place so close to me. Why do I not go to it more often? It calls me daily but I ignore it.
Why is that?
2) 500 Miles by The Proclaimers
This is the most get-get-giddyup song in the world, and the best part is it's totally COOL and quirky. Yes, you can sing and skip along and feel not guilty but quirk-a-licious. You can also synchronize with your equally quirked friends by singing various parts together- DADADAHDAH! (dahdahDAHDAH) dumdiddlyum diddlyumdahdahdah! In fact my love for it has been reignited lately since during preparing for... well, I suppose it was opening night... a few of the theater people put it over the speakers and began to dance around wildly to it and sing. In Biblical garb. Okay. We actually all sang, even me. It could not be resisted.
3) My platform shoes.
These are crazy shoes. They are dying. They boost my height by two inches or so, and make my calves look nice. They are beaded. They are clonkers, but I can somehow walk in them gracefully as they have formed to my foot and are of a very specific shape that is rather unusual for your typical platform shoe. They make me feel vaguely attractive. I will miss them- I think come July they may have to retire. Oh, beloved shoes.
4)

This scene. This movie, actually, I found incredibly striking. Some scenes and characters far more than others, but I have to say I really felt like I understood it and it spoke to me very specifically. It's about, for lack of eloquence- getting over things. Trauma, hurt, pain, misunderstanding, life, death. And forgiveness, and moving on. This scene is so quiet and strange, but it brings me to tears and I can't say why.

I want to write/make a movie like this someday. I am afraid that I can't.

5) My best friend sending me a text message that reads: dearest friend. i just wanted to say how much i love you, and send you hugs and hopes that things will be better :) <3 you've always been just like a snorkel to me.

there is joy in struggle. the Lord is proved perfect in imperfection. human beings are so amazingly versatile. creativity is unstoppable. the thrist for knowledge can never be quenched.

dramatic? perhaps, but i know that even my loneliness can be my friend. and then we might be two on this road. once i figure that out, maybe we can walk side by side.

i hope so.

between march 22nd and the 23rd something changed.

And then her heart exploded, and love went everywhere. It dripped from the ceiling, soaked into the floor, stained the curtains. it ran into the street, richocheted from the buildings, flooded the beaches, enveloped all of them in its permanence; love love love.