Saturday, September 26, 2009

I Can't Believe I'm Writing This

I have a confession... I finally gave in. To the Twilight hysteria. I couldn't take it anymore. One, I sort of loved the soundtrack to the movie. Which then turned in to me watching the movie. And I'm a sucker for angsty love stories, especially when there is an air of intrigue and mystery.

As in, does she become a vampire?

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xdFXCgr-fhY/ShCU3ll_9RI/AAAAAAAABZY/zEvvfqqgspc/s400/Meadow-scene-twilight-series-2724716-651-376.jpg

Seriously. This is important information. And no one would tell me. "Read the books," they would say. And I would huff and puff and in my literary snobbery proudly proclaim that I'm "too good for young adult novels."

But after months of no answers, and then seeing the New Moon trailer... wait, he is a WEREWOLF? I couldn't take it anymore. I needed answers, and apparently the only way I was going to get them would be by reading the saga.

And now, here I am, blogging about a fictional teenage love story that I so adamantly refused to read. And it's taken over my life, where I haven't even blogged in weeks (and there's so much to blog about)!

The worst part is that these books are terribly written... seriously, I just finished New Moon and there were so many grammatical errors it was annoying (editors, anyone). And don't get me started on the whole Volturri scene, what a waste of a climactic storyline (at least it looks like the movie director took some artistic discretion and gave it some action).

Nonetheless I am obsessed. I had a dream about vampires last night, what is wrong with me? And I had to go buy the third book because I'm too far back in the "hold list" at the library.

I. Just. Need. To. Know. How. It. Ends.

Until then, my life belongs to this saga. My blog will go unwritten. I have two books to go.

Oh, and Harry Potter for the win. :)

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Don't Send The Search Party

Don't be alarmed. I am still here. My Google reader continues to be my number one checked website, aside from Facebook. I just haven't been blogging.

A large part of it stems from a conversation I had with my dad about separation of personal and private life, which led to me making my previous blog completely private, and removing the link to this one from all social networking sites.

But then it just turned into me not writing- because I don't know how to write what I feel without being personal. I can't mask the emotions, whether good or bad, they are the reality of this stage of my life. A stage that is full of contradictions. A stage that is a measuring stick of where I am relative to others, or rather, where I am not. And of course, the ever present question of where I want to be. But it also is a stage that I share with millions of my peers, and by documenting all the highs and lows I've found that I am not alone in my confusion.

In my blogging absence I've done a lot of soul searching and examining new goals and directions, new friendships and old ones, too. In the last month I've teetered between being ready to pack everything up and go home, and the next instant I'm flooded with all the memories that chased me out of the Midwest. It's the conundrum of fearing the return to entrapment by way of a small town, but not being able to find my footing in the big city. I can envision perfectly the life I want, yet I am struggling to see it through.

Perfection, it's always been my problem. My expectations are always set high, perhaps too high so that failure is always within reach. I stopped writing because I feared people would see these flaws through my words, and I hid behind the intermittent comments of praise and positivity that I litter the blogosphere with.

While I gathered so much inspiration from all the creative, positive, and lovely bloggers that have quickly become a daily read; an anxiety began to settle-- I had so much to say, to write, and was ashamed that I couldn't emulate such beautiful, uplifting posts. At least not every day.

And so, maybe it's best to separate the personal from the private. But I've never been one do what people say is wise. I am known best for my stubbornness and defying common sense. But at the end of the day, what I write is not fodder for dismissal in a professional setting, nor is it worthy of scandalous chatter. It is life through my eyes, as a twenty-something. Sometimes it's positive, and other times the depression settles in. But it is real. And it is me.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Smoky The Bear Says...

While the midwest prepares for its fall season with boots and ciders, Los Angeles is preparing for its fall season (otherwise known as fire season).

And as we enjoy our 300+ days of sunshine, we also must deal with water conservation and serious drought, which by summers' end can turn dangerous. I'm not sure how far the news spreads (although I should presume the Angeleno attitude and in that case, I'm sure you've all heard) but Los Angeles is on fire.

Literally.

Time Lapse Test: Station Fire from Eric Spiegelman on Vimeo.

How freaky is this video? It gives that crazy Mayan 2012 prophecy a very eerie feel, don't you think. But all kidding aside, this fire is dangerous! 105,000 acres have already burned, 12 thousand homes are threatened, and two firefighter's lives have been claimed. The air quality index in some parts of the Valley are the worst they've been in years, with levels well over 300 (100 is considered bad). My heart goes out to the families that have been displaced and evacuated, and the 50+ who's homes have gone up in flames.

It makes me very thankful that I live in one of the beach cities, where the ashen sky can only be seen in the distance, and the only disturbance it causes to my daily life is that my radio station doesn't come in because its tower is down.

Wherever you may be, whether your an Angeleno or in the midwest, please keep these families and firefighters in your thoughts and prayers.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Vegetarian Vampires That Sparkle

I've spent the better half of the weekend watching the quintessential chic flicks. You know, the ones with Sandra Bullock as the 'girl next door,' the ones with the cheesy unrealistic romantic leads (these guys just don't exist), and the ones that require multiple tissues.

And for someone who really doesn't believe in the fairy tale 'happily ever after' I haven't been able to pull myself away from the television. I know the ending to every movie I've watched this weekend, either because I've already seen it (multiple times) or its so cliche and transparent that it would be hard not to guess the resolution. Boy and girl fall madly in love and live happily ever after.

Gag.

Except for this weekend, this fantasy world of "I love you's" was just what I needed. Going along with my last post, something weird is going on. I've ooh'ed and aah'ed at all the ridiculous monologues delivered with charm and boyishly good looks.

For the first time in goodness-knows-how-long my sarcasm has taken a backseat and that love-sick girly girl I always knew existed finally emerged. I may not whole-heartedly buy into the Hollywood notion of a love story, but I'm at least willing to give it a chance.

Last week, I finally got the closure that I've needed. I closed a chapter that had been never-ending for over two years. It was much easier than I ever imagined, and it was the first milestone in measuring how far I've come in my personal growth over the last eight months.

Now that I have a stronger sense of who I am and what I want, I have the courage and confidence to stand up for me and everything that encompasses. I realize that I don't have to change who I am to make a guy fall in love with me- all that does is strip me of my own self-worth, and to portray a false image to the one I'm wasting my love on. Because in the end, I need someone who loves me, for me.

So, thank you week-end chick-flick bender, for showing me that not every guy is going to insult my morals, that not every guy is going to ignore my inner beauty to only measure who I am by the number on the scale and the color of my hair, that not every guy is going to disrespect me by putting me down in front of others, that not every guy is going to take his own insecurities out on me.

But- not every guy is going to serenade me with a guitar, bring me flowers for no reason, or recite some prose about how I am the love of his life. However, my faith has been restored that if I let go of all the guys who have not been what I wanted, that the guy I want is out there waiting to be found.

And I'm ready to start the search party. Finally.

And now I'm going to go watch Twilight.

Missing the Midwest

Something weird is going on.

It may be because I've spent the last three afternoons watching the Reds play the Dodgers on television. It may be because one roommate is on holiday in Greece, and the other moved back to her hometown, leaving me with an empty nest. It may be because I spent a week at home gaining closure and clarity with certain aspects of the life I left behind.

But I'm really homesick today.

Fall on Western Campus by ellievanhoutte.
{via}

Summer (un)officially ends next weekend with the Labor Day Holiday. With that, comes the arrival of fall- my favorite time of year. Fall always marks a season of change and rejuvenation, and as I reflect on the last year, I feel that the changes I began last fall have finally come full circle. Yet, at the same time, I am growing nostalgic for the life I left behind, or rather the image of the life I wanted but could never find.

I don't know what the future holds for me in California, which is unnerving at times. Day-to-day I seem to be making my way just fine, because I am happy. But then there are the days like the ones I've had this weekend, where I miss the times I could spend any summer afternoon on the couch watching my favorite baseball team, or meander up the street to my local bar and know that I would be surrounded by friends and people who knew me best.

I already miss the changing of the seasons, when daylight fades a little earlier, and mornings are crisp and damp with dew. When Fridays are spent at high school football fields, and Sundays spent at Longworth Hall in the sea of orange and black.

Sometimes, I miss the ease of life in the midwest.

So this fall, as I take a look at where I am, how far I've come, and where I want to be, I have a lot to evaluate, and even more to change. And hopefully, in the meantime, Los Angeles gives me a little fall weather to comfort me.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Get Real!

Two weeks ago my roommates and I switched cable carriers, and finally- after eight months- I was able to get cable installed in my room. Which spells T.R.O.U.B.L.E. Otherwise known as ridiculous amounts of time wasted watching reality television.

Without fail, I always get sucked into these shows. They're so pointless that I usually spend the thirty minutes snickering at the dumb things that are being done and/or said.

Alas, I've found two diamonds in the rough, and I'm sort of obsessed with both.

Giuliana & Bill Style Network, Wednesday Nights
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They may be the cutest couple. Ever. Sure, they may be in the newlywed phase of their marriage, but I think they have a pretty awesome dynamic. I love that she calls him Rancic, it's endearing- even if it is his last name. They've also managed to restore my hope in modern marriage, which is saying a lot. They both make compromises and sacrifices for the other, and I think that's just swell. Plus their dorky personalities mesh amazingly well. Their interview banters are hilarious.

Another plus, Bill sported a Miami hoody during last week's episode. Way to represent! I also adore Guiliana's assistant, Matt- he's a doll.

Good news, it was picked up for a second season.

Ok, moving on.

Ace of Cakes; Food Network
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So I may not know when new episodes actually air, because I've just seen repeats at random times of the day- but I've seen enough to know that I want to be BFF with these people. They speak my language-- sarcasm.

I would also like Geof to be my boyfriend. And bake me cupcakes. I don't know why, exactly, but I have a major crush on him. He is the epitome of my I want a hipster dork boyfriend.

Oh, and these people are amazingly talented. I'm jealous. My attempts at baking look pathetic and make me fat. Epic Fail.

I should probably get a social life. Noted.

Any reality shows you are obsessed with? Why?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Last Block in Harlem

Below you will find my review for the novel The Last Block in Harlem, which I had previously posted on another blog. I wanted to repost here because the book is gaining steam and attention in its hometown of New York City. Author and publisher Christopher Herz has taken to the streets and is personally selling copies of the book. There is a great article about his efforts, which can be read here. I always find it inspiring to hear when people have left behind conventional success to follow their dreams.
"Inside Central Park there are people dying, men dropping down on one knee to propose, young couples enjoying the simplicity of a passionate kiss, old couples trying to find new paths to walk, single women glancing over the tops of the books they're reading to see if anyone is worth escaping fiction for, joggers trying to tone their bodies enough to look good in a suit come Monday..."
Click to Purchase Your Print CopySuch is the image of New York City that Christopher Herz vividly paints in his novel The Last Block in Harlem. It is a landscape that I fell in love with four years ago during my first visit to the city, and so eagerly found myself lost within with each turn of the page. From mid-day to midnight subway rides to the everday bustle of a Harlem neighborhood, Herz authentically captures what I can only imagine life in the 'Big Apple' is like, so much so that I felt as if I was reading the book on a stoop of a brownstone rather than on the sandy beaches of the west coast.
The Last Block in Harlem introduces us to a young, male protagonist, whose name is never revealed, at least not that I can remember-- but who I assume has a similar background as the author. Having physically relocated from California, but unable to escape his past misgivings, our protagonist sets out to escape reality by changing the tangible-- the trash that has cluttered his neighborhood.
An act of philanthropy, that begins with a broom and a dust pan, quickly escalates to a neighborhood movement against gentrification. Along the way, Herz introduces us to a handful of characters on the streets of Harlem- from the elderly neighbor Sukal who has an affinity for cats, to the young man known as The Boxer who had fallen from glory only to be resurrected by the movement. These vignettes into the background of each individual infuse life, shape and depth into the plot and novel beyond the narrative voice.
As a twentysomething who is undeniably in the midst of my quarter-life crisis, I found it easy to relate to the protagonist as he struggles to find harmony in his life- whether in overcoming his past, questioning his career, or finding a worthwhile cause to contribute to-- each issue is one which I have faced myself in the past six months. Additionally, as I consider approaching a career in advertising, this novel provided great insight into the corporate structure of the industry, regardless of whether its fictitious in nature or not.
What I found most intriguing was the parallel between the deception of the advertising world and the events that unfold in Harlem. Herz writes, "I didn't mind being tricked because it gave me a comfortable reality." Though it describes his initial attraction to advertising, it is also fittingly foreshadows the rest of the novel.
Herz's writing style and format is very simple and clear cut, which most likely stems from his background as a copywriter, making The Last Block in Harlem a quick read. Nonetheless, it is definitely worthwhile to spend an afternoon and get lost in Harlem with all its unique characters.
For more information, or to purchase your own copy of the novel, please visit www.canalpublishing.com