Key to Reserva

Sunny Days

Okay, so when I am faced with hours of homework I can be a bit over-dramatic and may tend toward rants of self-pitying. I thought about deleting my last post because, frankly, I didn't want those negative vibes hanging about - but then I thought better of it and decided to just make peace.

Today has been a fantastic day - the sunshine is like injecting uppers straight into my head. I just laid on the grass, did a little reading, drank a little Chai, and rocked out to my man Juanes. Can I just say one thing about him, "agrrrr." Yeah, he's up there right now. I can't help but being attracted to talent and passion - really, that's the key to my heart. People who live their life for what they believe in and love what they do are my inspiration - my idols. It's not just about the art of creation but about the concepts fueling it and the passion for life written all over it. Last week Drew and I stood out on my porch and agreed that nothing is more precious than each moment. Life, however it came to...why ever it happened, is fucking brilliant. Existence itself is a paradox with endless possibilities - a beautiful anomaly. I, for one, do believe that there is a god - god in the everything - an energy that connects all of existence and resonates in each of us. I think we all, at times, forget that we are not ever alone - we are part of the whole and simply by being born, the universe will never be the same. It's a pretty special gift. Man, I love sunny days.

Odd Tangents

Is it sad that I am actually starting to resent weekends? I just realized this as I pulled out my course reader in Starbucks and wished I was instead getting up at 7am to get ready for a long day of work, then class, then gym. I sort of subconsciously mumbled that at least on weekdays I see people and keep busy. Then the revelation, for as much as I glorify the potential of the weekend, in reality I never enjoy it quite as much as the rest. As this thought sunk in my shoulders dropped, my eyebrows arched and the voice in my head spoke like a stoner witnessing an armed robbery, "Wow, that sucks. I think you need to reconsider your options." Then, outwardly, I pulled my computer closer to me and opened a browser knowing it was time to let work out the obvious tension.

It's no surprise to those that are close to me ... and probably those who have spent one minute with me because I am a lot less cool than I like to believe ... that I am not a big partier. Ever since I was little I loved throwing parties but they were of the strictly Disney channel variety.... not exactly the type of gatherings that get throngs of people knocking on your door at college. I was totally in the group of kids in high school that actually played charades and soccer on the weekends. And I totally would have played D&D if I had been introduced earlier - yeah, it was sweet. For all that I understand the desire to get out and let loose with a few hundred strangers, it's never been my scene. But, frankly, it really sucks to not have that socializing to look forward to. I mean, I get invitations to parties all the time but I never seem to make it. And it's not that drinking/drugs are all that people do, let's not be over-dramatic - but it's pretty much guaranteed that they do it collectively. If I drink or whatever I hate that I rely on that to have fun and I get a lot of spectacle with little substance. I just don't like what I am trying to do when I drink to have fun - I don't like putting on an image of myself - I just want to connect to people. Really talk and feel and create. I love to meet people, I love to learn and share views on the world - on life - on philosophy. To work together on creating and developing. I want to live my life and not just wish it away. And all is grand during the week when I get to work towards my goals but then the weekend comes and I find myself peddling away but getting nowhere. I resist my homework because I would rather be with friends adventuring to new places and scheming toward our personal dreams, but I don't have many friends that are interested. I know a lot of amazing people but I seem to have isolated myself like a hermit in a cave. So which is worse, spending the weekend in a constant state of procrastination in denial of the fact that I spend most of my time alone and planning my escape from the college domain OR going to the parties? Both ways are no good for me. Maybe if I did a little more of what it is that I want to do, I wouldn't mind partying so much as a way to unwind every once and a while. Like, if I actually was working hard and living passionately through my personal projects (whether art, writing, or film) and getting active in the community (joining environmental groups, promoting art, social awareness and discussion). I think the light hearted atmosphere would be enjoyable - if not drinking as the goal itself. I need to stop blaming the environment for my choices. I feel like I should stand up and say, "Hello, I am a 21 year old and I am a recovering party pooper!" Ya know, cause I 'm cool like that.

Well, at least I feel a little better - I just need to be more proactive in my life to be more social the way I want. I shouldn't be waiting for the weekend to be over - that's just pathetic. I don't want to be a pathetic person... that would suck.



^ I should be more like them ... work hard, party hard. Growl.

I thought, even though I'm fairly sure no one actually reads my blog, that I would include this part that I cut out - because I can:

In fact, I feel I was able to exercise those fantasies in one fairly short semester. In the Spring of freshman year I started Spring Break by drinking my weight in Vodka and Peppermint Schnapps - two hours later Cass was sitting in the bath tub monitoring my progress as I wondered why it was that the toilet bowl was so soft and echoey. Yeah, I was a class act. At that point, I was pretty cool with drinking as an "in circle" past time - isn't it funny how shaking a drunk person's head causes them to fall to the floor. But then, it became all to easy for me to justify why this would be an acceptable past time. You could do anything! (Except walk straight, talk straight, think straight... but at least I didn't have a fear of telling people every thought that passed through my head ...whether it was reasonable or not... and I seemed to laugh a lot which was a nice feeling.) But then I thought - "Wouldn't it be sweet if I was like this all the time!" and I rather reproachfully replied, with sarcasm dripping from my cerebral tongue, "Yeah! And maybe next time I can get so trashed I won't even remember how I made an ass out of myself! (silence) OR, I could just try and be a little less worried about what other people think and just be happy and honest as a daily practice." Shrugging in unappreciated defeat, "Yeah, that could work, too."

A Kindred Spirit

"Because I'm a woman, of course I'm going to have the regard of a woman," she says. "It's natural, it's not a will where I'm saying, 'I want to represent women.' No. I just want to tell a story, whether it's feminine or not."

- Lola Doillon, on her film "Just About Love" up for Palm d'Or at Cannes Film Festival

Now My Eyes Are All Poofy

As you all know...as you all SHOULD know....HE'S WON!!!!!!!!!!! Wait, wait... HELL YES! Okay, so you can probably guess at my excitement and I know this post is a little delayed, but OH MAN! I love my Martin Scorsese so much and he conquered the Oscar's! The Departed was totally amazing, he deserved it, Clint Eastwood can go cry me a river. Do you hear that? It's the world's smallest violin playing for the losers. But how do I feel, you ask? Elated...and somewhat upset. I didn't ACTUALLY get to watch the ceremony! I was away for the week (hence tardiness of the post) and despite my labored research, my attempts at watching were ultimately thwarted. I blame Sky One. I was supposed to watch the awards live at 1 am on Monday morning and see what I knew would be complete victory. But what did I get? A half an hour of red carpet coverage that led to nothing. That's right, nunca, bubkis, not-a-god-damned-thing. Where were the awards?! Oh yeah, on Sky Movies...a premium channel you have to order in advance. A complete disaster. So, I call my mom..in a controlled panic..and ask her to give me a call when the winner is announced at 5am, so that I can at least participate in the triumphant glory. Staying up all night, waiting...trying to distract myself...I discover that my mom's call isn't delayed...but that my cell has lost reception and nothing is getting through. Bastards! So, it's wasn't until later that day that I received the message notifying me. It was a bitter sweet moment. Filled with joy and yet simultaneously feeling a bit stung by the media rejection. Worry not, I will have my vengeance. Retribution will be mine.

I did watch the best director footage. They totally staged it for him with Lucas, Spielberg, and Coppola. It was just what he deserved, to be served by the top of Hollywood royalty. Then when it was announced, despite my knowledge of the outcome, I stopped breathing and unwillingly began to cry. Like a baby. I didn't think it would happen, I didn't even know it was until I realized I was sniffling. It was just what I needed. True catharsis.

Am I Just Crazy?

So, I have been listening to constant 80s streaming and I just came to the conclusion that "She's a Man Eater" and "Part Time Lover" are the same song...played at slightly different tempos and one tries to confuse you with a semi-synthesized saxophone solo. But don't take my word for it:

Must Love Ninja

Cass just introduced me. Watch and love: