Month: February 2012
I’m still reeling from that text message alert I have just received.
The Academy has shut down. For a snow day. OF ALL THINGS. Best part? Not a single flake of snow has fallen. Not. A. Single. Flake. It’s utterly unheard of. The last couple years, we’ve had banks of snow and did we shut down? Not even a fleeting thought. And yet, here we are. I’ll also be staying up until Heaven knows when simply because I can. How about that? 🙂
A mere few hours ago, before the euphoria of having a snow day was present, I was being the ultimate Oscar dork. I was sitting on YouTube watching video after video of the last ten years of Oscar ceremonies.
I went back to 1997 and watched Billy Crystal’s opening monologue.
I went to 1998 and watched yet again Billy Crystal descend from the Titanic’s front.
I watched the nominees from multiple years being announced and awarded.
I watched Celine Dion sing My Heart Will Go On live at the Oscars in 1998.
I rewatched the beginning of last year’s ceremony. The opening montage, the awarding to Melissa Leo for Best Supporting Actress (and her infamous F-bomb while crediting Kate Winslet for the ease of her Oscar acceptance speech the year before.)
As I watched, I remembered the horror of Anne Hathaway and James Franco hosting, and their blatant play into tricks that had been discussed leading up to the actual ceremony. I love James Franco…his work in 127 hours was remarkable and remains with me today. I saw that movie over 2 years ago, and I still remember how I felt watching it. That means something: Great film making.
Watching all these Oscars videos brought me back to the wonder called Titanic. This lead me to watch deleted scenes (some of which are very very good, and I wish they hadn’t been deleted from the theatrical cut!) and behind the scenes footage. The friendship that Leo and Kate have…that is something I crave. I want to have that sort of friendship with a guy, whether or not he would end up being my boyfriend/husband/simply a best friend.
The joy and love Leo had for Kate was written so clearly across his face at the Golden Globes where she won both awards for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress. I mean, the love of a great friendship is there and so palpable. It’s incredible.
I heard someone the other day say your soul mate could be anyone. Soul mate doesn’t necessarily mean partner in marriage. It means soul mate. Someone who recognizes the ins and outs of your very soul just as well as you do, if not better, than you. A part of me doesn’t believe it. How can you not marry your soul mate? I could be the crazy one here, so I’m just going to leave it as an open-ended question. A thought to put you asleep at night!
There was one more moment I didn’t highlight in my post yesterday. Christopher Plummer won an Oscar at 82 years old. His first win, after a lifetime of great and memorable roles. As he stood up there, marveling at this sudden wash of good luck and achievement, he remembered to thank his wife. His wife who has stood by his insanity all these years. His rock. He put it far more eloquently than I ever could. Even rewriting his speech here verbatim wouldn’t be nearly as good. So we’ll leave it at that. He renewed my belief that true love really is out there. I’ll keep crossing my fingers I find it at some point.
“No one with a happy childhood amounts to much in this world. They are so well-adjusted, they never are driven to achieve anything.”
The words of the alphabet-loving author, Sue Grafton.
Maybe this is why I’m driven so hard to achieve this dream I possess, this dream of me standing up on that stage, grasping the Oscar I rightfully acted for (or produced, directed, or designed for) and earned. I can feel the lights on my face as I stare out at the thousands of people cheering for me, I can feel the weight of that statuette in my hands. Seroissuly…I feel like I have lived this moment in a previous life or I am foreseeing the future. One of the two. Is this dream and push there because I had an unhappy childhood?
I would whole heartedly say I had a happy childhood. A very happy childhood filled with cats, cows, an open backyard, dozens of open fields to hunt/four-wheel ride/camping, picnic lunches out in the tractor, a tree house, grilling out on the back porch, reading under the biggest tree you can imagine, a dog! I had a very happy childhood…desserts and fresh vegetables from the garden every day.
What am I talking about? I had a GREAT childhood. Screw the words of Grafton!
Alright, I’m going to enjoy the aspect of this snow day (and I just looked out my window…still no snow. I was supposed to start an hour ago.) I’ve got my beer next to me, and a bag of tortilla chips with cheese. I’m ready to rock this night more than I already am.
The 2012 Oscars have come and gone.
How I love the Oscars? Let me count the ways. Seriously, I’m already pumped for 2013’s ceremony, and there hasn’t even been any buzz about it yet. Well, that’s actually not true. I read an article already boasting Jennifer Lawrence’s performance in The Hunger Games. Now, THAT is some early buzz. The movie doesn’t come out until March 23. I guess we’ll see.
There was nothing to hate about this year’ s ceremony…other than Kate Winslet was not in attendance so I couldn’t see her latest fashion statement and love her even more.
Let me see…here are a few of my favorite highlights of last night’s festivities:
1.) Colin Firth with his recognition to Meryl Streep while announcing the Best Actress nominees: “Mama Mia. Meryl, we lived in Greece. We danced. I was gay. We were so happy.” Best. Quote. of the Night.
2.) Glenn Close’s entire ensemble. She looked absolutely radiant. Just goes to show aging can be a good thing.
3.) Billy Crystal’s opening montage. Who doesn’t love Crystal when he’s hosting. Remember when he did the drawing scene for the opening the year Titanic won Best Picture?
4.) Seeing Kermit and Miss Piggy at the ceremony. I wish they would have performed, but it’s better there were there than not there at all.
5.) Meryl Streep finally winning after 17 nominations! And for Best Actress!!
6.) Carl, the man who has been a seat filler for the Oscars for 59 years! I want to be that guy. Think of all the celebrities this guy has sat next to.
7.) Chris Rock’s explanation how really, we have quite an easy job. “You’re fed a line…and they give you a million dollars!” (That’s the gist of it anyways.)
8.) Gwyneth Paltrow’s dress. Once she lost the cape/jacket thingy, she looked absolutely regal. So simple, but so elegant.
9.) Robert Downey, Jr. and his documentary filming “The Presenter.” I honestly don’t care if this man is a douche bag in real life. I heart him.
10.) Emma Stone inviting Jonah Hill up onto the stage to dance with her to celebrate her first time presenting. And his blatant negative response…NO!
There are a lot of other moments i loved, but we’ll be here all night and I’ll basically be reiterating the entire ceremony in print, so I’ll leave it at these Top Ten.
“I know I’ve got a degree. Why does that have to mean I have to spend my life with intellectuals? I’ve got a lifesaving certificate, but I don’t spend my evenings diving for a rubber brick with my pajamas on.”
Wise words to a nearing-graduate from the Academy from the off-quoted wit, Victoria Wood.
I will be leaving the Academy with two degrees. One heavy in the writing department (maybe explains the blog?) and one in the acting department (maybe why I love the Oscars as much as I do?) I will be walking away with two degrees that don’t necessarily guarantee me a job anywhere. Now, who is stupid enough to do that? Haha, apparently I am. People always wonder what my second degree is, thinking it’s going to be something more stable. Wrong again. Neither degree is stable…although I’ve become a lot more comfortable with my body and its expressions. Sometimes, it gets me in trouble…hahaha.
In all seriousness, the first time I watched Star Wars and found myself legitimately wanting to be on that screen alongside Han and Leia, I knew I needed to be a part of this world…not just the Star Wars universe, but the world of film. The place where all these awesome places live and breathe. When I watch the Oscars, sometimes I feel like I’m a part of this crowd of people…this group of eclectic, funny, bizarre, unique, individualistic, risk-taking people…and I feel happy. I’m laughing at their jokes because I get them. I feel like I know them. I should be there…in that theater…celebrating with them.
I should have given you a nerd alert warning before all that bunch of nonsense came stumbling out of my mouth. But hey…what can you do? It brings us closer together as Jedi, right? (I know you’re all shaking your heads, laughing at me, or sighing at my sad, sad life…but I really don’t care.)
Since I skipped out on posting last night, here are seven things you might not have known about this Jedi until now. Hope your Monday wasn’t too awful for you…I’ve barely survived mine, and its thankfully, almost over. Cheers!
Sweet dreams, everybody. I hope they’re filled with gold. Oscar gold 🙂
My biggest dream about finding a Big Girl job?
Not having to work weekends.
I don’t remember the last time I had a Saturday night off to have it to myself. Not just so I can sit at home and do whatever, but to have the freedom to go and do whatever I want for *me* and no one else. Granted, where I am right now, it’s usually not too busy in the evenings unless there’s a predesignated party going on . The only times I don’t work on a Saturday evening are when I take it off to another obligation I have. Say bridesmaid dress shopping, a baptism for a nephew/niece, or doctor recommended bed rest. Yeah…things I want to do, yes, but things I wouldn’t do on a normal basis. There’s a difference there.
Another reason I don’t like working Saturday evenings? If I sleep in too much, I feel guilty about wasting the day and I can’t have “off time” like weekends were supposed to mean. Tis my lot in life until I become a grown up, I know, but I’ve done it for a year and I’m ready for a change of pace. I really shouldnt be saying that. There are people around here who have worked weekend evenings for more years than I care to imagine, and here they are, with a smile on their face. How do they do it? Maybe one day I’ll understand it, but for now, I keep telling myself its temporary. The real deal will come.
Last night was a great time with family. My bro-han was in town, so I met up with him and my sister after my working hours came to a close. Ate the rest of their ordered nachos and pizza, and we trekked our way to one bar to find the pool tables were all occupied. So we trekked to another, and found our pool table and rocked a couple of games. If there is one thing in this world I suck at, it’s playing pool. I might be on a winning streak for 3 turns, and then I do something stupid like make the cue ball jump over the intended numbered ball, and my game goes straight to hell. Even a round of darts proved awful for me, and usually I am an ace at darts! Near bullseyes left and right, and hitting my designated number on a whim. I blame the pool on tiring my arms out.
Of course, there was the stream of drunk, creepy men making eyes at me. I’m not saying this to gloat or brag about how attractive I am. When my brother has to keep between me and the eye-rapist to ward him off, that’s not something to be proud of. In fact, it’s creepy how some guys will act that way. Attractive on his part? Not by a long shot.
My favorite part of the evening? A 40-year-old man with shoulder length salt-and-pepper gray hair, a baseball cap, a button-down denim shirt, and hiking boots trying to bump and grind to a Nelly song on an empty dance floor littered with glow sticks. If that isn’t an awkward attempt for generation mashing, I don’t know what is. He seemed to be enjoying himself, which is what really matters. He provided great entertainment for the rest of us, too.
Although, I really shouldn’t be talking. Between me and my sister competing with each other’s moves for who could be the best pool stick exotic dancer and our signature moves to Aqua’s Barbie Girl song (dancing like a Barbie never felt so good!), I’m sure I was providing quite the entertainment, too.
Here’s the thing: I’m a dancer at heart. In reality, sometimes I can pull off a few moves and make it look like I know what I’m doing. On a constant basis, however, I continue to prove how some people were blessed with beautiful bodies that move in gorgeous ways. Mine? It sort of moves in whatever way it wants to, and it doesn’t look graceful at all. Don’t ask me to do sexy. I don’t do sexy. I am not a sexy dancer. When I dance, don’t think Beyoncé or Lady Gaga or Katy Perry. Think Bjork, in the sense that she is an awkward and weird dresser.
I’m sure that put a lovely image in your head. I apologize profusely, but I can’t say I’m a sexy dancer. I’m not. I can be an emotional dancer, but that doesn’t always mean sexy.
I do recall being called sexy once in my Jazz dance class a couple of years ago. My classmates said I had “a sexy, penetrating look in my eyes” and since I wore my hair loose for the final dance number, it added “a sexed up feel to the whole thing, especially when it stuck and clung to my face. It was very sweaty, in a hot, want-you-now kind of way.”
Best, and only, time I will ever be told that about my dancing.
A couple of drinks and shots later, my party and I found ourselves at home, crashing out on various couches and air mattresses. Put on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, and who calls me at 2:00 am on the dot? You guessed it. New Guy. Apparently, he can only talk to me when he’s inebriated. Warning sign about how this relationship is going? I’m willing to bet $100 on it. Both my brother and sister exclaimed “Who’s calling you at this hour!?” It didn’t take long to see the annoyed look on my sister’s face when I told her. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to even pursue anything since New Guy appears to have a serious need of getting his act together.
I’m beginning to agree with her, and that in itself is a scary notion.
When I finally crawled under my covers, I did call him back and, miraculously, he answered. On a side note, he called me babe last night. He only calls me babe when he’s been drinking. Warning sign #2? Anyways, he answered, and all he wants to talk about is how sick he feels, what he’s doing, how he knows all this stuff about film, how there’s no way in hell I know the same facts and tidbits he knows about films, and how he’s not feeling drunk. I outright called him a jerk, and told him I was going to bed. He got mad at that. Warning sign #3? I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk to someone in a drunken state of mind, and who thinks he’s the cats meow when I’m super tired.
Did he ask how my day was? No. Did he ask how I’m feeling a week after my surgical procedure? No. Did he tell me I’m nowhere near his intellect when it comes to movies? Yes. I had my answers. I said good night and hung up. I don’t need a guy like that, especially one who acts like that when he’s six years my senior. That habit isn’t going away anytime soon.
Just found out now that he’s coming into town for the hockey game. Great. Another few hours of deciphering whether that means he wants me to meet up with him afterwards, or if he’s just giving me a warning in case I run into him somewhere on the city’s night life scene. OR he’s coming up to keep an eye on me and his Best Friend so we don’t do anything together. Seriously? Men can be so blockheaded sometimes.
“Why should I go when the going’s so good? …I lived through the garbage. I might as well dine on the caviar.”
I love what you’re saying Beverly Sills, a soprano sensation. I think I’m still sifting through the garbage. My caviar is being held on reserve. It’s not an appropriate time to get a full taste just yet. Or so the Force is trying to tell me, I think.
Blessed be your Saturday evenings, my fellow Jedi. Things could get crazy, and if they do, know the Force is always by your side. Use your instincts, and you’ll know what to do.
Thursdays continue to be my favorite day of the week.
I’m done at the Academy by 2:00 in the afternoon, and I have the whole rest of the day to do what I want to, or complete any overdue projects. What did I do tonight? Picked up a few more hours at Job #1, caught a deal at Maurice’s after which I am the proud owner of a new dress and 2 pairs of earrings, a lovely lunch with a coworker, met up with the lacrosse team, enjoyed a bowl of homemade alfredo pasta, worked on a project for a potential job, and am now finally getting around to you, my fellow Jedi.
The best part? Except from finally getting to slip into my pajama pants? I haven’t been stressed about anything. Not once in the last 24 hours. What is it about Thursdays that make it easier on my brain?
Despite all of this time to do anything I want, I do know there are a dozen projects I could still be catching up on or getting a head start on. I meant to make caramel corn tonight, too, but at this point in time, I’m going to finish this blog post and head for bed!
I’ll be the first to say it. This week has been weird. I got up at 9:00 this morning. It’s not late in the day. In fact, it’s a pretty normal wake-up time for me when I don’t have to be anywhere by ten. Yet, I woke up this morning, discovered it was 9 in the morning, and panic ensued. Why? I didn’t have to be at the Academy until noon. And yet, I was freaking out. Why?
I think I’ve developed a form of paranoia. I have to be somewhere or doing something ALL THE TIME. I’m sorry for shouting at you, but it’s the truth. My mind cannot rest for one single moment. It’s going to be the end of me. If it’s not homework, it’s my latest novel idea. If I’m not blogging, I’m reading a magazine. If I’m not taking notes on a movie, I’m writing a resume and cover letter. Has this what 5 years at the Academy has done to me?
I really hope not, or the real world work force is going to hate me. It might make me a manager, but everyone beneath my position will kill me and shoot daggers at me constantly with their eyes.
I do not want to be THAT boss.
On top of this paranoia that doesn’t seem to get away from me for more than three seconds, New Guy and I really got into it last night. As it’s turning out to be his style, the conversation started one way, and then suddenly veered off into another. He was genuinely mad at me for flirting with his Best Friend when he had clearly broken up with me two days beforehand. This flirting that upset him happened almost 2 weeks ago now. Since then, New Guy’s Best Friend and I have maybe texted twice, and it wasn’t anything dirty or racy or anything like that. New Guy just *blew* up on me.
Here’s the problem. This goes for all men. You can’t break up with us, and then get mad at us when we try to get back into the groove of single life again. I, myself, happen to be a flirtatious person. Especially when I think a guy is cute, and I’ve had a few alcoholic beverages in me. Granted, I’ll admit the mistake of flirting with his best friend. Probably not the smartest move in the book. But, regardless, I was single and New Guy knew that.
Yet, he blows up on me for doing it. Why? He finally gives an answer, albeit a vague answer, but he finally gave an indication of why he was upset. Because, he says, I have feelings for you. i wouldn’t be this upset over this if I didn’t.
Listen up, boys. You have to let the girl you’re interested in know what you’re feeling. Three months should be long enough to let your guard down enough to at least say how you’re feeling towards that person. You clearly don’t hate me, so tell me how much you like me. I’m not asking for the L-word. Not even remotely close to asking for the L-word. But you can let me know how much you like me. Otherwise what’s the point of continuing this charade?
It’s always going to be a war, isn’t it? Men versus women. Ladies versus gentlemen. Boys versus girls. Female versus male. Men are truly from Mars…and Women beautifully come from Venus.
Last night’s conversation/argument with New Guy is a prime example of how it takes years for our two genders to see eye to eye.
“Men and women can never be close. They can hardly speak to one another in the same language. But are compelled, forever, to try, and therefore even in defeat there is no peace.”
The lauded among literati, Margaret Drabble, has hit the nail on the head with her comment.
It’s nights like last night, and moments where New Guy mentioned maybe it’s not worth our time together, that makes me realize I only need three men in my life. Count’em. Three.
1.) My father
2.) My dog
3.) My brother/nephews/godsons
Okay, so that makes it more than three, but still, you get the point. Any male who isn’t family by blood? Yeah, I don’t need him. The only additional answer I might add is a Jedi Master. But there’s no guarantee my Master is going to be a male, so that’s why it’s an additional answer, not a guaranteed one.
If I could have one wish, one wish at all, it would be that whichever male happens to catch my eye in the next X amount of months, that he and I will be on the same page when it comes to dating and a relationship. You can’t ignore a person for 4 days and still claim to be dating them at this point in the budding relationship. It’s one thing if you’re long-term. Short term? A four-day silence is as good as a break up.
Guys, if you’ve fallen for a girl before, you know my words are true.
I’m going to leave everyone with one word: Canine. Man or woman, when we need a friend when everyone else is too busy messing up their own lives, if you have a canine for a friend, it’s not going anywhere. That canine will be your friend no matter what.
I miss my fluffy, sometimes too hyper, jumpy, sweet eyed canine friend.
She may act like a twelve-year-old hormonal human at times, but I’ll deal. She certainly doesn’t judge me. I’m not about to judge her.
My head feels so fuzzy I can barely think.
I’m slowly coming to realize I have to grow up in the next couple of months, and it’s hitting my heart like a freight train. Part of the reason why I have this headache? 1.) I spent half my day on the phone trying to get answers out of people so I could progress with my day, 2.) Too many situations only adults should handle are hammering away at me.
Let me explain:
The major deal breaker today? Medical bills and how to pay them. Health should be a major priority for everyone. Maybe it’s because I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy like a fiend lately, but it seems like doctors are more about the money than actually making sure you’re getting the care you need. OR they’re getting you the care, but with no regard to the size of your wallet. I’m a struggling student who will be struggling even more in the months to come. While I’m thankful my insurance kicked in quite a bit of cash flow to help me with my current financial predicament, I still have a handful of debt to pay off. On top of that, I don’t qualify for the hospital’s care program to help those of us who don’t have a large enough income to pay off the outstanding balance. Seriously….does a tissue biopsy really have to cost $327? Now, add up the cost for four of them, and you’re looking at me handing over 2 months worth of paychecks. Now, that doesn’t seem quite right.
I’m telling myself to breath, things will work themselves out, but this is just one bill. Give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll be getting one for my most recent procedure in the mail.
I don’t need medical debt on top of my student debt!
On top of all this, I’m focusing a lot of energy on the job search. Yes, that’s right. I’ve begun my professional job search. Already I’m doubting I’ll find a job, and if I find my dream job, I’m not going to be the one to get it. Writing cover letters and resumes takes a lot out of my brain. When you’re staring at a computer screen for 8+ hours every day, its driving me insane…another reason why I probably have a gigantic headache right now.
Ideally? I’d love a job that allowed me to Tweet, Facebook, blog, pinterest, tumble, and all of thee above. It would be so groovy to be able to do that. Hey employers, do you hear that? I’m good with social media. Now, if I ran a blog for your company, we’d stick to company related topics…I wouldn’t delve into Star Wars or my personal life…unless my personal life reflect what the company wanted to promote. Then it might be a different story 🙂
But in all seriousness, the job search is hard. The best thing about it? I’m finding there are jobs out there. I just have to keep the motivation there and apply, apply, apply! As everyone keeps telling me, put in the time and the work, and when it’s time for things to happen, they will.
OH, and another thing…I sent in my resume and samples of my portfolio to a potential employer, and now they have me working on a project that will be a part of my application. Now, I didn’t major in marketing or anything like that, but I have to think like one, and the fear is already gripping me. What if I can’t think of anything? What if my idea is stupid? What if they hate it? Blah blah blah…The first thing I learned in this world of the Academy? If you’re going to fail, fail big.
Whatever it is I decide to do, do if full force. No half-assing it. All go or don’t do it at all.
Really great words to live by, actually.
I’ve mentioned this before, but where one of my key strengths and passions lies in my writing. It’s an extension of who I am, and honestly, if I don’t write for a certain stretch of time, but fingers get the itch. They’ll find a pencil or pen one way or another. So, fingers crossed that I’ll find a job where I can write. I might not be able to write the things I want to write, but at least I’m putting my efforts forward and keeping myself in the flow of things. Like this blog. It’s something I tell myself i have to do every day. Yeah, there have been a few blips here and there. The main thing? People are reading what I’m writing, and the more people who read it, the more of an impact I can make. Mostly when I write, I want a reaction out of people.
Trust me, I’ve gotten quite a few great reactions already, and I haven’t even hit my 50th post yet. Soon…very soon!
” ‘Why do you write for children?’ My immediate response to this question is,’ I don’t.’ If it’s not good enough for adults, it’s not good enough for children.”
An excellent point of view from the noted Newberry Medalist, Madeleine L’Engle.
I’m always interested in finding out about other people’s processes. More specifically, I’m interested in finding out how writers get into their process. If they’re anything like me, they get hit by ideas at the most random times and usually don’t have a pen and paper around to jot it down on. The other day? Listening to Lady Gaga’s Born This Way album, and I have a whole concept for a musical production in my head set to each and every song on her album. It would be simply marvelous! Of course, the next day, I pop in the CD and I can barely remember any of the moments I had in my head. The outline was there…the vivid details that hit me the day before while driving? Not to be found.
It’s moments like that when I need a voice-activated notepad….I talk, it types, and I have everything I need and will never lose an idea. Every again.
I’ll keep dreaming.
The headache is lessening up a little bit here, but I’m still ready to take myself by the ears and chuck my head into a snow bank. Yeah…I finally woke up this morning to look out my window and find my car covered in a blanket of snow. It wasn’t cold out, so I didn’t mind clearing it off one bit.
As much as I want to become an independent adult, I like to go back to the words from an episode of Grey’s Anatomy: “We’re all just kids in a grown-up body living in a grown up world. We might look the part, but really, we’re all just a bunch of kids. We never really grow up.”
Coming to you live…from New York City!!!
Ah haha! Yeah, that’s a good one. If I were writing to you from New York City, I would be posting way more pictures about the actual city. There would be way better crowd watching there than where I currently reside.
And, no. I’m not going to tell you my location. If anything, imagine I’m on the planet of Endor. Surrounded by trees and little furry bear look-alikes. Does it actually resemble my current surroundings? You’ll never know. So deal with it.
Again, I could write 2,000 words about how much men annoy me, how some particular men keep pissing me off, and how some are just plain clueless and brain-dead. But…I’m going to refuse to take on that temptation, and leave it at what I just said.
Yup, shutting up.
Besides, who wants to keep hearing me blather on about how 99% of the time men are just so clueless? Why don’t they just admit to us they are simply madly in love with us, and don’t know how to handle it? Yeah…what a pleasant thought 🙂
“Gentlemen don’t love love. They just like to kick it around.”
Wise words of the vaudeville virtuoso, Sophia Taylor.
Perfect example? New Guy texting me consistently around 1:00/2:00 am in the morning during the entire last week and this last weekend. If that doesn’t make me feel like a cross-state booty call, I don’t know what will. Good Lord, are men really that brainless? Sometimes, I have to wonder.
Seriously, on top of kicking around the love we bestow on them, they really put us through the wringer when they put that ring on our finger. I’m not even the engaged one. I’m the Maid of Honor, a significant role, no doubt, but I go through a lot of rigmarole to please one person. Granted, she’s my sister, but you try on 40 different bridesmaid dresses on an empty stomach and tell me how you feel afterwards? Add to that, the floors are hard and have no give.
My legs still hurt from yesterday’s trial and error fittings.
Seeing as its later in the evening, and I have to be at the Academy bright and early tomorrow morning, it’s about time we dive into Seven Sillies for a Sunday. Yet again, as I stare at the title I’ve given this fun group of photos, I’m shaking my head. I am the worst at titling things. I’m a writer, yes, but when it comes to coming up with a title for a screenplay, a novel, a short story, a news article…anything, really…I can’t name it a worthwhile name to save my life.
On a side note, my apartment is broiling. I’ve already stripped off my shirt and rolled up my pj pant legs. In the middle of February, I’m supposed to be freezing my behind off. Instead, I’m sweating it off. Could be worse, I suppose.
Alright, let’s get on with the Significant Seven? Is that a better name for it? Significant Sevens for a Sunday? The name is coming along. See, proof that if you work at something, the better you get at it.
Straight ahead to finish up the weekend, my fellow Jedi. There’s little time, and make sure you are seizing every moment of this time. As for me? It’s time I sit back for a few minutes for the first time today, and finish my pizza I cooked 3 hours ago.
May the Force be with you.