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It was a mere 20,000 degrees indoor and my father in an effort to rough it Sahara style he had decided to go sans A.C. Too hot to bear as my room was, I retired to the couch for the evening (read: totally passed out watching “The Exorcist II”). I think the unique combination of outrageous heat, satanic chanting via James Earl Jones and the uncomfortable nature of wadding oneself up in a couch corner lead to the somewhat disturbing imagery I am about to relate to you henceforth:
In my dream, I was in the car with my mother and my friend. We were driving downtown to see a movie. As we moved along the road, we passed my father’s work building. I noticed there were great plumes of smoke pouring from the upper registries.
“It has to be steam,” my friend said.
We all craned our heads to look skyward.
“No…” my mom went on, “I think it is smoke!”
Just then a woman, clear from the top floor, took a running leap from the building to escape the flames. We cried out as her body fell and fell and feel crashing right before our car and exploded like a blood granade.
EEEEE. Our car swerved, its tires squealing.
As the fire leapt to other neighboring buildings more and more people chose the way of kamikaze. There was a huge elevated unfinished highway by my dad’s building as people jumped they got caught on the incomplete bridge.
“GO MOM, GO!” I screamed as she wheeled around and tried to escape the hail storm of bodies as they feel and literally exploded when the hit the ground.
“Was Dad at work today?” I kept asking, “Was he?”
Another body fell next to our car and GASP.
I jolted away on the couch to an infomercial at 4:30 AM.
After a moment I thought, “Well I guess I will go take a cold shower now.”
So Mabel caught another bird.
My sister was sleeping the other morning when she began to hear a terrible thrashing around in my room.
Being the responsible, concerned person blessed with ESP(n) that she is she screamed from her bed, “MABEL STOP IT!”
When the commotion continued and escalated however, she was forced from bed to my room.
The premises looked like a war zone. Mabel sat by the bookshelf, tail twitching as my sister tip-toed around the mess- frightened by what might jump her.
A noise came from the closet.
Cautiously, cautiously, she crept over and opened the door- SCHOOM!
A giant bird! Wild! In my closet!
The bird collapsed to the ground.
My sister moved carefully forward cooing, “It’s ok…” but the moment she knelt to the little aviator he bolted from the floor, straight up into the ceiling, cold-cocking himself unconscious.
My sister took the little coma victim in her hands and ran him outdoors where he promptly smelt the wild and took off like a shot again, thankfully, without a ceiling to hinder his flight.
8 hours later, in my room- ME: Why are there feathers all over the place in here?
Also, there are bird poopies on my book shelf.
I saw Mad Hot Ballroom over the weekend.
It’s “Spellbound” meets “Strictly Ballroom” and in the vein of “Kids Say The Darndest Things” was just this side of Hilarious.
For those who haven’t seen a trailer the film is a documentary about the public school required ballroom course in New York City. The film follows three schools and their 12 years old and under tulip-toed exploits to the ballroom championship.
I remember in screenwriting class, during my first script where children were the main characters people told me I made them sound too mature and kept saying, they really weren’t but people wouldn’t believe me.
Now that this movie has been released.
Shh. Do you hear that?
I do believe it’s the northern wind of “I Told You So.”
I couldn’t believe what some of these kids were saying! Take any one of their little dialogues and put it into the mouth of Bridget Jones or that Scrubs kid and no one would blink an eye.
GIRL: I know boys look at girls. I mean, I have a lot of guy friends and they tell me how it is, so I know it’s all they think about.
GIRL: Well I figure I will go to highschool, go to college, probably get married and by the time I’m about 25 or 26 I would like to have babies.
GIRL II: Well I would like to have a child someday. Only one though because I don’t want my house to get all messed up because of my childs. No… just one child for me.
BOY (who looked JUST like the kid in “Royal Tenebaums by the way): When I grow up I would like to be an architect, because not only is it a good way to make money it’s the only job where you can use your imagination and make things. For example, look at that building. I wouldn’t have done it like that, because it’s an ugly, boring building.
BOY (on puberty): You have to wear deodorant, start washing twice a day—hair starts growing in weird places.
GIRL (on how she feels about not placing first): I’m indignant.
GIRL: Well I was reading a book called “Like Being A Girl” and it said there was actual scientific evidence that females are the most advanced civilization.
BOY: I judge a girl from her inner beauty and outer beauty; mostly inner.
(insanely long silence)
BOY 2 IN BACKGROUND: Outer!
It was so funny and cute. I quite honestly guffawed at a few of the lines. The Michael kid slayed me.
The parts which did pang my heartstrings though were when the little girls would talk about drunk men looking at their bodies “Some times a drunk man will look at me and it makes me uncomfortable and they’re looking because I have my body now, but they don’t know I’m 11.” Or when all the kids went on about kids who end up on the street selling drugs or going into prostitution or parents fighting and cheating on each other. Makes you think, though they are innocent and sweet and dancing, it is an innocence tainted. Also watching the kids, it’s sad because you know all of them won’t make it to be an architect or to college. Some will- hopefully most! But some are just going to fall through the cracks and that’s depressing.
The movie, however, was adorable. The dance sequences were a bit too many, but whatever. I recommend it.
suddenly i was @ 09:10 pm
(no feathers)
friday, june 24, 2005
I think only, maybe two, possibly just Diana will mind this- but check this name analysis out:
ABRAM::
Although the name Abram creates the urge to understand and work with people, we emphasize that it causes a materialistic approach that frustrates higher humanitarian qualities. This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the fluid and reproductive organs.
Your first name of Abram has given you an expressive, diplomatic, and gracious nature. Although you have a good appreciation of material values, business ability, and skill in organizing and managing others, your success is limited, at times, by a lack of self-confidence and initiative. You prefer to work with others and rely upon their support and encouragement. You have very expensive tastes, and your desires could well exceed your initiative in providing for them through your own efforts. Personal appearance is important to you. You are always well-groomed yourself, and you judge others by your own standard.
MONROE::
Although the name Monroe creates executive ambitions, we emphasize that it causes an unscrupulous, materialistic approach that frustrates higher humanitarian qualities.
Your name of Monroe causes you to place considerable importance upon the material aspect of life. You have an eye for quality, desiring always the very best that money can buy, and you are not content with anything that is second best. You are quick to size up others, and this appraisal is based upon their physical appearance, their clothes, and whether they have achieved material success and the standards of quality that you have set in your own mind. You have a keen business sense, knowing a lucrative proposition when it is presented, and it is likely others would come to you for business counsel. You are a capable leader and organizer who should never be in a subordinate position.
No wonder he's so depressive and swallowed up by business in my script. His name commands he be just thus.
On the other hand:
EVA::
Your name of Eva has created a practical, responsible, stable nature, and you desire to direct the efforts of others rather than to take order or ask permission. You have a determined, self-reliant, capable nature and resent any interference, although in your desire to help you are inclined to become involved in the lives and decisions of other people. You like to make your own decisions and to be the master of your domain.
FARFALLA::
Although the name Farfalla creates the urge to be self-expressive and happy, we emphasize that it causes a scattered and emotional nature.
Although your first name of Farfalla has created an expressive, fun-loving nature, it has not produced the qualities necessary for a full and complete life. You have always been a happy person, and, desiring to see others happy as well, you strive to inspire others, which you do most effectively through an engaging sense of humour. You are fond of surprises and are quick to respond to spontaneous invitations which promise a good time, particularly when they relieve you of a boring task. Your dislike for monotony and routine, often means that you do not finish the things you start.
Maybe that's why Abe likes her.
For the record, the name Clara yields almost the exact same analysis as Abram. In my story Abram is married to Clara. Ha.
P.S. Farfalla means butterfly. This really entertains me because if Eva is called "Miss Farfalla" it's like "Miss Butterfly" which reminds me of "Madame Butterfly" the opera from which this story pulls inspiration from.
suddenly i was @ 10:08 pm
(no feathers)
thursday, june 23, 2005
So.Last night I had a dream with Jeremy Sumpter.
Ah ha ha. I bet I just got about 99.6 percent of everyone to click over because of that header.
Yes. Last night I had a dream with J.S. You may de-friend me now.
The dream started when I was in the apartment of some friends in Chicago waiting for my dad to do something. He was taking forever so I told him I was going to wander for a while.
And so I did.
Right back to the past and my Junior High.
As I roamed those hallowed walls of my barely pubescent memories, I began to notice a gathering at the auditorium. It was then Peter P- I mean, Sumpter, came up behind me.
Being the old friends that we totally are I saw him and said, “Oh hey! How are you? What’s this?”
“Graduation.” he told me.
“I saw your new movie last week. It was pretty funny.”
“Oh, I filmed that like two years ago!”
I continued with him to the door we peaked inside, I couldn’t resist recapturing some of my old memories of years gone by and there’s just something so sweet and romantic about graduations.
Sumpter however, distilled my fermenting feelings of nostalgia rather quickly by saying, “I think you have to have a ticket to get in…”
He then took my hand and we sneaked up the aisle. It was dark, noisy, there was really no need for slinking save for the fact it made my dream-self giggle. We launched ourselves into two spare seats and sank very low in our chairs, lest we be caught and continued to giggle. A girl across the aisle (who was actually a girl I knew I elementary school by the way) notices our not-so-surreptitious behavior and said, “Do you need a ticket?” while she produced a giant handful of Xeroxed, scissor-cut tickets on purple paper.
I took the ticket and the ceremony began.
First the choir came out. The theme was “Showtunes” and they put on a bit number in giant piñata-type outfits. The song went all the way through and it was very impressive. The Master of Ceremonies then stood and called the audience to action in a little bit of interactive improv fun.
He called names and both Sumpter and I were both called. Holding hands still we ran to the stage. The MC would give the people on stage prompts and they had to act it out. I was so excited and kept thinking, “Oh my god, I totally have to be as funny as those guys on ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway?’” The whole time I was holding Sumpter’s hand and he would put his head on my shoulder.
It was just about out turn, when the MC could see the audience’s attention was failing so he called up the ceremony’s special speaker, Steven Spielberg, as, apparently, his kid was graduating too.
Before he could storm the pulpit however, the choir did another performance.
I sat and watched them sing and kept thinking how nice it was to have Sumpter as a friend. Then I opened my eyes and saw the clock blare 7:35 into my retinas.
I sat up in bed.
Great. I was late for work.
Anyhow! Apparently the Peter Porn movie touched me in ways I didn’t even know and I am subconsciously in love with Jeremy Sumpter.
suddenly i was @ 08:17 pm
(no feathers)
wednesday, june 22, 2005
I really haven’t so much time, but I would like to post a quick entry because I like to voice these sorts of things when my emotions are still raw and seething at the surface wanting to burst out.
suddenly i was @ 02:25 am
(no feathers)
tuesday, june 21, 2005
Oh my god. Peter Porn. Best. Movie. Ever.I laughed. I cried. I was traumatized when Peter Pan got it on with multiple girls.
This movie had everything: an oversexed boy, worried mom, sweet girlfriend, exaggo addiction problems- whorish highschool tramps! I knew this film was everything I had ever dreamed when the high school tramp (using a webcam she would do “wild things” and put herself out on the internet) tried to seduce Peter Pan (she ripped off his belt and everything) but when he said he didn’t want to do anything, she freaked, ran him from her house and proceeded to beat her head on a marble counter top so she could sic her psycho boyfriend on the unsuspecting porn addict.
The best part of the film though, hands down, is when Peter Pan’s little brother catches him looking at special websites.
BRO: What’s that?
PAN: Get out of here!
BRO: No, I want to see.
PAN: Get. Out.
BRO: Fine. I’m telling mom.
PAN: Wait! Ok, ok. Come here. Shut the door.
Cuts to next scene, Bro’s face is pale. He looks like death he’s so traumatized.
Really though that kid, jigglykat’s boyfriend, Jeremy “Strumpet” is such a beautiful boy. He was absolutely darling in this. Cuter than even Peter Pan. He has the funniest lisp and baby fat. Just a doll!
GOD. I hope this isn’t the end of his Lifetime career.
P.S. Did you know he has a twin sister?
P.P.S. Lifetime runs in his blood; both of his sisters (twin and younger) have appeared in mainstream lifetime series!
suddenly i was @ 09:17 pm
(no feathers)
Here’s another entertaining story:
For my birthday my mom gave me a card with a little kitty dropping a dead mouse on a girl in bed. The interior of the card read: when only the best will do! And was a joke about my cat Mabel, aka the neighborhood Bird-Mouse-Moth-Buggies Terror.
The very next day, Mabel jumped up on my bed in the morning. I felt this- but was more awakened by the LOUD CRASHING FLAPPING noises which followed. I actually screamed and bolted up from my slumber. Mabel too leapt from the bed over to my bookshelf where she had something trapped.
“Hummingbird Moth?” I wondered, but no. It was 6 AM.
I walked over to the shelf to see.
It was a bird. A pretty Purple Finch no less.
“OMG!” I cried throwing Mabel to my bed and picking up the bird.
Now, I don’t know how many of you have the experience of catching captured birds, but they go into shock something awful. I ran the bird outside and held him in my hand. He just sat there, listing to the side, his heart bounding. I petted his head, cooed at him and checked his wings. I also said “Hello” to the paperboy who gave me and my pajama-ed self with a dead looking bird a weird look.
The bird did have one injury. A single toe was swollen and scabbed over. I don’t know if it was from Mabel, but it concerned me and I asked the bird, “Oh no, oh dear. Do you need to go to the bird doctor?” over and over.
Eventually the bird’s eyes flitted and you could tell he suddenly became aware. He straightened up, offered a few loud chirps and took off.
Saving the little bird made me feel much better about everything.
I then went inside and found Mabel and gave her a big hug and said “Thank you” but “No no to birdies” because it had been a nice gesture for a kitty to make. I mean, a Purple finch? Truly, only the best will do with my Pretties?
suddenly i was @ 12:42 am
(no feathers)
sunday, june 19, 2005
Well I saw “Batman” today.
I love Batman. He was in my second script- best friends with Hamlet and hooked up with Marilyn Monroe. He makes up part of my Holy Triumvirate of superheroes: Superman, Batman and Spiderman. The father, son, holy ghost, Super Ego, Ego and Id- no matter how you strike it, those three make up the quintessential figures of superherodom.
This most current installment in La Batman Saga was all right. I think it’s more an example of why I shouldn’t get so very hyped to see a movie, but it was all right all the same.
I guess, foremost, the only part, which really didn’t sit well with me was the whole Liam Neeson bit. I am just so over the Hollywood Asian fetish.
I will freely admit, I am no aficionado on the Batman canon and my knowledge of the Dark Knight (har, Prince!) was ingrained in my mind only by the good graces of the afternoon animation classic, “Adventures of Batman;” so I really don’t know if this Justice League of the Himalayas was always there in the comics or if it was more an invention of The Industry, but I didn’t like Bruce Wayne’s state and the Hilton Tibet at all (Buddah in every corner, mint on every pillow, ninja training starts at nine!). It made me roll my eyes so much I was pained. Thereby, and a little this and that, I was totally bored with it. I just tried to pretend it didn’t exist at all. It was so incredibly boring.
I loved the scenes with the small kid as mini-Bruce, later young-adult-Bruce suffering angst, but I thought those more intriguing character buildups were sloppily coupled with the back-and-forth narrative of Ninja Class 2005.
If it had been chronological, I could have dealt better. I don’t know. I just thought it was very lame right up there with Padme’s broken heart and the Phantom’s red-red rose.
I did, however, love the minor players. Michael Caine as Alfred? Hands down, best character in the entire film. Who wouldn’t want him as a butler? I thought Cillian Murphy, besides being absolutely gorgeous (let me lick your eyeballs) was a great Scarecrow. I could have done with him as a main villain and been a very, very happy audience member. Then, of course- the chameleon of actors, Gary Oldman, I didn’t even register it was him playing Gordon- the other most fantastic minor character in this film.
The character, I suppose, who would most merit mention is, of course, The Bat. Christian Bale was good. I was semi disappointed he didn’t break into song- but what can you do? This was the dark Batman. No singing was allowed.
Really though, it was a well-rounded step up this time. Even his costume was a major wardrobe improvement over the ridiculous outfits sported by latter day Batmans.
ALFRED: You will need a cowl.
BATMAN: Yes.
ALFRED: And cute pointy cat-ears.
BATMAN: Oh, of course.
ALFRED: And a Tom Waits voice transmogrifier.
BATMAN: Oh y- wait, what?
ALFRED: So you don’t sound like Jack Kelley.
BATMAN: Oh! Right. Good idea.
Why is it men always have to sound like Tom Waits after a pack of cigarettes and a jar of peanut butter after putting on a mask?
Still, Bale’s demeanor and propensity for angst is the best since Keaton by far. Bravo. Bat-vo. Whatever.
The script was good and clean. I like the circular nature of the themes and lines: ie the concept of fear, “what do we learn when we fall?” etc. Everything moved at a nice clip- though occasionally I did find myself wanting things to slow down and breathe for a moment so I could soak up some character.
I thought it was an excellent decision to not force the romance between Dawes and Wayne- almost as good as the first Spiderman. And I thought the ending this side of priceless.
Anyhow, over all a fun frolic in the land of heroes. Definitely the best Batman flick to roll around in the past decade. I think Burton’s (“Batman Returns”) will continue on to be my personal favourite, with its outlandish cartoon Noir 40’s Gotham rather than exaggerated Chicago (really, isn’t it what New Gotham looked like?) but this was certainly all right enough to see on a Sunday Afternoon.
- Oh, though for the record, it is really, really hard to take angst seriously from a protagonist when he shares the same first name as your toy poodle.
Go Bat go.
suddenly i was @ 11:42 pm
(no feathers)
thursday, june 16, 2005
Midnight. June 16th.It's my birthday now.
Excuse me, I have to age.
Crawls into cocoon.
suddenly i was @ 01:02 am
(1 birdcatcher)
tuesday, june 14, 2005
I am so ashamed, just lock me in a closet and let me feed off the dust I find on the floor, if I'm so lucky to find any.
suddenly i was @ 08:50 pm
(no feathers)
monday, june 13, 2005
Michael Jackson has been found innocent for those of you who live under a rock. What a SURprise. Could have knocked me over with a feather.Now Mike can become best friends with O.J. because they have so much in common.
This morning began with major duress to my person. I woke up and cried out “FISS!” Which is what I do to indicate it is now “yum yum eat time” for my fish, Napoleon. He usually swims up to the top whenever he hears me making these noises.
This morning however, nothing. No fish!
“Napoleon?” I said, for sometimes he hides in his little plastic weeds.
Nothing.
I began to panic. I looked at the floor in case he had enacted some heinous act of kamikaze fish death, but there was no body and I KNOW my fish and he isn’t that way. Could Mabel the cat…?
No. Not even she would dare.
Besides, she only eats his food.
I flipped on the tank light and did a cursory study of the small container. Nothing, nothing, nothing, OH MY CHRIST!
There was Napoleon under his giant rock.
“No, he’s… he’s…” I began, obviously fearing the worse because my fish was under a rock 16 times his size. Overwrought, I tapped the tank surface gently, in a very E.T. you’ll-be-right-here moment of tenderness and to my surprise, Napoleon wiggled. A lot. In fact he was frantic. He wasn’t dead, he was stuck!
I called to him, my fists balled up, “I can’t help you here little buddy, you have to do it on your own!”
Napoleon flipped and flipped.
I ran into my closet and found an algae brush. I couldn’t hold small Napoleon’s fin in this venture, but perhaps I could lift the rock.
As I removed the lid I explained to my fish this was a very dangerous thing to do, one foul move on my part and he was gonzo. Napoleon attested, however, it was a chance we had to take.
I pressed the brush into the rock, ever, ever so slightly to relieve pressure and the moment I did so- swoosh! Napoleon swam free. I looked him over and over, perhaps he was ill and my giant brush had just frightened him back to life. – But upon inspection Napoleon looked fine. I dropped food into his water and he gobbled it up, as he is wont to do and all seemed well.
The 900,000 dollar question is, of course: how the fork did Napoleon get under his rock?
Thank goodness he is safe though, let us all look upon him and smile and think, “We’re glad you’re here Napoleon the Fish!”
Oh also today, this shopping banner at my job which was made as a joke accidentally went live. It featured an male employee mugging it up in J-Lo clothing and the tag line “Enjoy Huge Tra-La-Las and Ding Ding Dongs,” which is a reference to this song.
No big people caught it, but the rest of us were in shock when it ended up on site. The front page no less! It was so funny.
suddenly i was @ 08:43 pm
thursday, june 9, 2005
So I guess I am putting a foot forward in going to AFI. I sent in my deposit which indicates, “Please don’t give away my slot yet please.”ACTUAL CONVERSATION
OTHER GUY: Don’t be upset if you don’t get in right away.
HIM: It could be as late as July before you find out. We’re like American Idol, we make you wait and wait and wait.
ME: Well, sometimes even on American Idol the losers end up with record deals.
That was the close to my interview, by the way.
I also called him because I couldn’t find their paperwork and thought it was lost in the mail. I called and stressed so he sent it to me. I later found out the paperwork he did send was only supposed to be sent to those who had paid their deposit. Dur.
THEN yesterday I was really worried about my deposit because I had mailed it but was so paranoid it was MIA I called, again, and said “Hi! Where’s my check?”
I just didn’t want it to be lost and lose my place, see, because the cut off was June 8th. Now I totally don’t mind if I don’t end up going because I can’t pull together the loans or get a car or whatever, but to lose my slot because the check was lost in the mail. That’s just lame.
Oh, I keep mentioning my slot- they’re numbered, only 28 people are accepted into the discipline.
So the guy calls back and says, “No worries it’s here!” and I say, “Ok, I promise to not call anymore.”
This was only compounded by the fact I wrote a desperate email to the financial aid manager telling her I don’t know how to work loans.
HER: Now, don’t worry, but we don’t have your FAFSA on file. When did you file it?
ME: Oh. Erm. 6 hours ago?
HAR. It says right there on the first page it takes 3-4 days to process.
I swear, what these people think of me, I don’t even know. Did I tell you guys my writing sample had 3 typos in the first two pages? Basically it’s a mystery how I got in- someone was smoking doobies and dropped my name into the wrong, “YES” pile, I’m certain.
Anyhow. While I wait for endless funds to just flow my way (along with an apartment and car- HA), I have this huge required viewing list and reading list. Tonight I think I will rent a couple of the movies. The Bicycle Thief is on there. I love that movie.
suddenly i was @ 10:22 pm
And like the heralded angels of yore who brought most bounteous gifts to those who were gracious and righteous, Lifetime has heard my late-night prayers of earnest and has come to me in my hour need.
Can you still BELIEVE there are people out there mocking Lifetime when they are making such daring films as this? Not many would dare crossing the Porn/Peter Pan line. Actually, there has only been one other.
And he wears pajamas to court.
Also, courtesy of IMDB, I would like to offer you quantifiable evidence to the fact no one in the whole dying-slowly-and-painfully animation industry really cares to actually have a good story idea anymore.
EXHIBIT ONE. It’s a spin on City Mouse. It’s a rat who gets flushed down the toilet. I can almost picture the pitch meeting.
PERSON: Picture it. There’s a rich rat. He gets flushed down the toilet. We’ll get Hugh Jackman in on it.
Seriously, look at the star-studded voice casting. Wolverine, Rose, Gollum and Gandalf. It’s all that and a bag of baked potato chips.
EXHIBIT TWO. Gnomeo and Juliet. I think the title should really be the entirety of my argument here.
This one might actually have some potential, ala Shrek with fairytales, to parody Shakespeare, but- again thinking of Shrek. It’s kind of been done before.
Notes of interest: Apparently Kate Winslet’s second career is that of voice actress. She was also in the last movie. She also has a commercial circuit going. Has anyone else seen the American Express or whatever it is, commercial?
Tim Rice of Disney music fame wrote this story. I hope it comes compleat with SONG CUES.
POST SCRIPT Please kill my iPod. Thanks. I think the recent iTunes update confused it. There is nothing, let me emphasize via < B > tag: NOTHING more annoying than showing up to work with an iPod which when you go to play it comes up with no songs. This means, I hope, like last time, I have to go back home, hook it up to my computer and reset.
I can’t do this for another 8 hours.
Great.
Message from the future: Fixed!
suddenly i was @ 08:00 pm