Monday, March 26, 2007

addendum; the promised Part 2

I found a fatal flaw in my previous post. In the two weeks since that entry, I've noticed the time frame wherein I wrote it, and it makes a difference.

I actually had just been quite put out by the whole independent industry for a few days, after having seen a movie I found particularly offensive and pointless (and I saw it edited, as is always the case). No one in the whole world, except my roommate, agrees with me on this point, and it really is a little irrelevant, so I'll leave it out; suffice it to say, although this movie was clean of language, anything graphic, etc., you can't edit a plot, and I didn't like the plot. Anyway, that night, I practically renounced everything I've been exposed to this entire semester; it was during this period that I wrote that entry. I was ready to walk away.

When I looked at my list of the interests I've fallen in and out with over time, I realized that I still enjoy all of them. I don't focus on them as much anymore, but I still get excited about them all and I still enjoy participating. I haven't removed myself completely from identifying with those who use ASL. I still enjoy explaining the Central Dogma of DNA (replication, etc.) Yes, I even still flirt. (Although I'm trying to kick the habit in its excess;])

Anyway, who says any of those things aren't my "schtick?" I think I said that mostly for two reasons:

1. I have a hard time imagining myself as just one thing. (This is nothing new; no one can compartmentalize themselves like they can people they don't know too well. No "band nerd" is just a "band nerd," to themselves.) I can't think of myself as "an artsy person." I can't think of myself as "a crocheter." (Oh. I used to crochet a lot. Elementary school.)

2. As a jack-of-all-trades (which is my schtick), and in my strivings to still be a master of them all, I tend to judge myself by the highest standards of the trade. For instance, when someone asks me if I'm a ballroom dancer, I rarely answer in the affirmative. Because, even though I danced for a couple years, I'm not Natalie Wakefield; neither am I, nor have I been, on any team. In short, I try not to offend the sensitivities of those who are, in my opinion, masters of the trade. Those to whom the schtick belongs.

I realize that this is probably ridiculous.

I've been told in no uncertain terms to develop new talents and learn new things. I realize I made a connection in my last post that might not have been entirely correct; just because my interests wax and wane doesn't mean I have to remove myself from the scene. Can't I just be everything? Because I said so? After all, you aren't defined by the activities you seek. I look back at the friends I've made during my participation in each of these activities, and I don't pigeonhole them any more than I pigeonhole myself. They're a lot more than just dancers, or independent art-enthusiasts. I still talk to them, I still value them, and I even still date some of them - and we don't have to be dancers together. We don't have to watch movies. We don't have to speak perfect English. (We can even end our sentences with prepositions, if we want. I recently read that was okay sometimes, anyway.) We just have to be people, with ins and outs and depth that reaches farther than just our Cuban action.

In conclusion, I'd like to say that tomorrow night, I'm going to Optimistic.'s to see a low-budget, independently-made, reportedly fantastic film tomorrow night. It sounds absolutely riveting, and I'm prepared to walk away a little changed, just like I usually do with independent film. (Also, I've researched this one.)

I'd also like to congratulate myself on using the word "schtick" four times in this entry. And, even as a non-Yiddish speaker, I won't be judged by any of you for it - not even those of you who are fluent.

Friday, March 23, 2007

this cannot be separated from the next post. which might take its time getting posted. ha. go figure.

::I wrote this two weeks ago.::

No matter what or when, I love Jack Johnson, Disney movies, a good jazz flute solo, my leather jacket, superhero hot dogs on my car's antenna, a good hot business suit, the Krishna temple in Spanish fork, photography, hot vases and high heels.

Lately I've been on an independent art kick, which is winding down. By lately, I mean the last year or so. I've seen tons of movies, listened to lots of music, made and organized fabulous Sundance trips, and when the mood struck, I've adopted the look.

In the back of my mind, I always knew all of this wasn't really my schtick. It's just a game I've been playing for awhile. My guess is, my closer friends knew it too; even the ones who inspired the game.

Where do these games come from, anyway? A couple years ago, it was me as a ballroom dancer. Before that, a sign language guru .... a bioinformatics major ...independent art ... a flirt ... a grammar officer ... the silent introvert (this one is just an acquaintance who stops by to catch up every few months).

Is it time for a new game? Is this all just part of the adventure of self-discovery?

Although my penchant for dress-up makes me look immature, I think I'll always be at least a little volatile like this. It makes life interesting, and it's not entirely a facade, because you can't help but get to know someone when you take adventures with them - even yourself.

This girl, Olympus. She loves to move, physically (dancing, ASL). She loves to express herself. She's drawn to conceptual science, but doesn't always have patience for it and never can apply it. She thrives on human interaction, but likes to be alone occasionally, too. She often prefers an empty apartment to a full one. She enjoys being meticulous ... sometimes and depending. She's a pretty meticulous teacher. Other times, she would rather throw caution to the wind. That's a phase thing, too. Some things you can't throw to the wind. She's learned to love variety and these days doesn't have much patience for sameness.

So those are some things I've learned about my friend Olympus, through our journeys together. Maybe I'll add to it later.

For the record, I still think the look is hot. That one isn't going anywhere soon. Call me a poser, but when the mood strikes, it'll come in full glory.

**

"Go in peace! I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil."--Gandalf

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

what do you think when there's nothing to think about? (thank you, Scripture Scouts)

Warning: This is not innovative. Rather, something you've all probably done. I just felt like doing it. And who knows; one day I might do it again. Deal.

Today I was in the testing center. Taking a test. As I was sitting there, I decided to try and remember the things I was thinking about that were unrelated to my test. Here's what I can remember (I was in there for about 45 minutes).

-Ahhh ... hahhahaha:) ... I know why Robert Poste has that empty mechanical pencil along with this regular pencil. This eraser is no good. I should probably tell him so he knows not to separate them.
-What do you do when you don't have an eraser, anyway?
-Just don't make any mistakes.
-Wow, that kid looks like a kid I went on a date with a couple years ago.
-Hey, is that my ex-boyfriend's sister? I'll wait until she gets up and try to see. I can't tell from here.
-flippin is going to make fun of me for this.
-I'm starving. I wish ... oh yah, I have candy in my bag! Thank you, Mom.
-Dangit, the proctor is walking by. I don't think I'm supposed to be getting stuff out of my bag.
-Waiting ...
-I may as well write some stuff on my test.
-DANGIT. ::erases:: That wasn't so bad ... okay ... kinda bad, though:)
-She's going to think I'm cheating no matter what, cuz I keep watching all the people around me.
-Dude, that girl looks like my friend's wife. She isn't.
-Awww, geez. That girl who might have been my ex's sister has been replaced with someone else! grrr. That's what I get for paying attention to my test.
-OK, I'm not waiting anymore. That proctor is gone enough.
-Where is my candy? There are tons of Advil packets in here. I swear there's candy in here, too.
-Ooh, orange admist all the white packets. That's it.
-What the heck is on that M&M? ::laughs, then looks around guiltily:: Are those devil horns? I think these are from Halloween.
-This Three Musketeers smells like a tire store. Has it always been this way?
-I am never going to remember all this.
-Listening to yourself think is maddening. We as humans never listen to ourselves think. I wish I could have some sort of narrator or computer program for this, because there is no accurate way to record it all in a pure state. It's the test-subject phenomenon; this should always be done blind.
-This test question is technically unethical.
-Uggghhhh, not again. ::erases:: That was better that time.
-My ex's sister's replacement has been replaced! Man, that must be the magic chair where you get done fast. I should have taken my test in that one. Except that's one of the blue chairs that I HATE.
-::jump:: The girl in front of me just flipped her hair onto my desk, and it made a significant sound. That's impressive.
-Oh, I know her. Hello!
-I think she's married, right? .... Yep, I was right.
-I wonder if that guy is married.
-Dang these people in front of me ... maybe when he puts his bag down I'll be able to ... nope. Oh, well.
-I wonder who is married around me? I like to guess on this one before I check...
-I wonder if there's a statistically significant "look" to married people? Cuz I'm often right.
-It isn't that I found that kid particularly attractive. Although he may be. I wasn't really paying attention. I just like to guess.
-This kid next to me is that guy who was studying in that group out on the lawn as I was coming in.
-Not married.
-I was right.
-He's been in here since before I was.
-Hey, I haven't wanted any candy in awhile. That's pretty good.
...
And, cut.

::Editor's Note::

Just for you, Mom, I fixed the 'crap's. Also, a bit of a redemption: I read through a lot of this and noticed that this was I think the only entry where I used the word at all. :)

Monday, March 19, 2007

bathroom humor?

So I was in the restroom by the bowling alley in the Wilk just now, and as I was washing my hands, the vague thought came to my mind:

"There is a definite imbalance here in girl:guy ratio. Do only girls go bowling these days?"

I. Am. An. Idiot.

fashionistas

I just saw this girl that I originally thought was dressed up for some type of "wear a silly costume day" or something. Then I realized she was just wearing stuff that's in fashion now. Brown leggings with a blue calf-length dress, a fat belt of a different, unrelated color, and another unrelated color sweater over the whole ensemble.

The things we do to ourselves.

A thought I had yesterday: When we're done reliving the 80's, what are we going to do? The 90's were mostly a continuation of the 80's and then a slow cycle back to the 70's, unless I'm wrong, which is possible. Are we going to think of something new this time? If so ... what? Do I want to know? If it's something brand new, no one will know which fashions to avoid to keep their children from laughing at their photos in years to come. That's rough. Going at this blind is unfair.

my phone

It once was lost, but now it's found.

Also, it's a beautiful day. How can you not just smile as you walk around out there? The grass smells like summer; people are wearing shorts, people on Brigham Square are handing out fliers like there's no tomorrow.

I have survived my last winter in Utah.
(um. for now, anyway.)

Saturday, March 17, 2007

this is how I feel today




Someone told me once that there should be a lot of photos on my blog, by virtue of my name. I agreed.

Thanks to my mom for taking these amazing pictures. Couldn't have come on a better day.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I'm an activist.

Hahahha.

"An activist against global warming ..."-Robert Poste

No. I'm an activist against unbalanced presentation. Check this out. Finally, a balanced article regarding Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth."

Thursday, March 1, 2007

wake up

Sometimes, the best part of the night is when you wake up, sigh, think, "That was just a dream," and settle back in to, well, sleep it off.

So where have those dreams gone?

Every one of my dreams in the last week has been a real-life take on a situation I'm actually in. I wake up and think, "That's what could happen if I don't get control over this part of my life?" It's like watching a really good movie, like *Crash or something - not really fun to watch, but when you're finished, you've learned something and you can really say it was worth your time, even if you're disturbed for awhile afterward.

I was never under the impression, however, that dreams were supposed to be worth my time. Aren't there enough waking hours to teach me the lessons I'm supposed to be learning? Think about it, though ... you'd rather not learn about relationships from breaking up; you'd rather not learn about finances by bouncing checks; you'd rather not learn about God by being separated from Him. In our minds, we'd like to learn everything in a "happy place." Because we are who we are, it doesn't work that way.

There could be a lot worse things. Really ... it was just a dream. It really is just like watching a hardcore movie. It's over, I woke up, and now it's time to change a little. That works. I should be saying thanks.

*edited