Perfect Situation

Yesterday, I had a mindset (and a post in the making) all ready and rearing to blog which temporarily allowed itself to be distracted, and perhaps for good reason. In darker times, I tend to think too much. Recently, I have been thinking a lot, but not because these are darker times. If anything, I can argue I am living in the complete antithesis of such, for I am rather fortunate for the goings on of these last good number of days, and I have a few wonderful people, places, and things to thank for this.

In a summer such as this, how can one not formulate a smile on their face just by taking a glance outside and seeing the beauty that is found in the sand and surf and fresh air? How can this atmosphere not be taken advantage of? And the relief that comes with rain or a misty day. How much more fortunate is it to live less than ten minutes away from a temple and be endowed to perform the ordinances therein? I have a growing love for the temple, and I only imagine this love will continue to grow.

This is a beautiful place, and as I expand my horizons I realize how much more beautiful it is here (this is in no way intended to be an homage to American Beauty either). It's been limited with the lack of time I had, and now that time is occupied in other forms, it opens the way for more opportunities allowing open and quality time.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine visiting from out of state. It made me realize the different ways people think, and how unfortunate it is to know that some people can be destroyed by the stigmas imposed by a certain culture. It also brings to mind decisions people have made to hurt me intentionally, and why these people were brought into my life if only to bring me pain. And then it becomes clearer that I cannot blame myself, for people have their agency, and if they use it improperly, that is in no way my fault, no matter how awful or responsible I may feel or how many times I had the finger pointed at me.

One starry night, and a busy mind full of thoughts with music pumping throughout the evening. What prompted this gentleman to take initiative into approaching me? He gave so much more care and time that I have only seen a handful of people willing to give after an initial meet and greet with someone who has been put through the ringer of poor decision making brought by others. What would happen if more people could show that kind of care? It takes a special person to touch someone's life for the better. A date earlier this week also made a surprising world of difference, and if more FHEs could fall through as such, I may get used to this. I should really keep in mind with my special fellow that dates do not have to end with the DTR.

Case in point in a matter of touching lives for the better: The Changing of the Guard. I can't think of a moment I haven't felt that tender spot swell inside me as I have every time I watch this episode.



This made more sense in my mind, but I appreciate these moments I can relax and take in more of these ponderings as I spew them out in a somewhat disheveled form based on my energy level. And I will conclude there as I leave singing oooooooh oh, ooohhhhh oh, oh ooohhh oohh.

These Are My Confessions, And It's Now Or Never

There are a lot of occurances in this past week that have sparked thoughts and curiosities of my persona and my observations of others. One is my first visit to the El Capitan theater, taking me into a trip through time and sparking imagery of old Hollywood and what fame and stardom must have been worth in the past compared to now. Connected with this cinematic visit is my viewing of Prince of Persia in this very theater, given the theme of the film, with the subtitle "The Sands of Time", is of time travel, and whether or not I could (or would) change the past if I knew what is to become of the future. Then there's the time I began chatting it up with a friendly fellow while we were both in line for the Indiana Jones ride, who I would have spent more time acquainting myself with had I not already planned on leaving for dinner soon after, adding to the ways I have seen Disneyland bring people together, be they family, friends, significant others, acquaintances, and in this case, merely strangers. There is also the most recent news that I have been chosen to portray the role of new employee in a job at a location I felt could be nothing short of perfect for me, selected for this one open position out of hundreds of applicants, giving my best in the group interview, and the likeness of the excitement felt when I received the phone call telling me I got the part compared to that of finding I have received one of my dream roles. Maybe these are all worth writing about in the very near future, or maybe they will just disappear after more blogging takes place, clearing away this entry and others from the front page, only to be found after a click or two back in time into previous entries.

It would not be so out of character, however, for me to quickly mention my thoughts on this series. Many of my friends have strongly recommended I watch Glee. For someone who has been performing in choirs since I was eight, school and community shows since I was twelve, and a deep love of performing that was not utilized as well as it could have been given the unfortunate circumstances that made up my childhood and teenage years, it has thrown some people for a loop that an entire first season has gone by and I had not watched a single episode of this show. I hesitated at first, but a friend of mine who happens to own every episode of Glee suggested we make this happen, and with a few days to spend with her in this nothing-to-do town I currently call home (though I love it here nonetheless!), I caved. We made a marathon out of it and watched the entire first season in the course of a few days. And simply put, it was good.

I wish I could think more of it, and in a way, I'm disappointed I do not, but I am not so won over to call myself a gleek (yet?). Admittedly, I have searched and viewed some of the clips on Youtube, and I do have a few covers in my MP3 player, but the parts of the show I dislike weigh it down, namely the storyline, the inconsistencies, and the extreme amount of unnecessary songs added into the second half of the season. It's funny to think, but now I kind of understand why people who are not a fan of musicals, because of the random moments where people break out into song, are annoyed. And this is coming from someone like me, a lover of good musicals and the spontaneity they have of breaking into song and dance at moments that may or may not be fitting. Also, there are times when the covers just didn't work for me. Some artists shouldn't be transposed, and others just aren't worth covering in attempts to make sound better (i.e. Lady Gaga). I suppose most of my problems with the show came from the second half of the season. Actually, I'm sure that's where it comes from, because although the first half was faulty, it surely felt more entertaining than the second, with a better balance of story and song and smoother transitions in plot and character development.

Of course, I'm glad I watched it. And although problematic, it isn't a bad show. It idealizes what I wish I could have experienced in high school and is reminiscent of a few memories that I have of those years (given we didn't have glee club, but having done choir and musicals, there are the similarities). I may even recommend it to people, or at least those lovers of musicals. It's enough to make me want to watch more in hopes that perhaps the show will vastly improve in the second season. Or at the least, I can hopefully look forward to a few more better covers sung by the members of Glee, and mash-ups. I will say, the mash-ups are great. So, only time will tell, and that's okay, for I am in no hurry for September to roll around.

And to end on the note of Glee, this mash-up has been in my head for a while, which I also added to my music:

Free Dinners: Gifts to a Starving Artist

I wish I could feed the missionaries. Once I am able to feed myself, I intend on helping to feed them too.

Last night, my friend took me to The Cheesecake Factory. After I obtained the high score in our Toy Story Midway Mania vehicles, only further digging me into the pit of Disney game-themed ride geekiness, our time was of the essence to make room for a comfortable dinner and a few more hours at the happiest place on earth. 90 minutes of comfort food, endless conversation, an adorably colorful waiter, and perfect weather for outdoor seating helped to make the evening as enjoyable as it was. The cherry on top could have very well been the fireworks that started as we were ready to make our cheesecake selection, if only they proved to be visually present as well as audible. It was not so much the fact that my friend was willing to dish out earned money to cover our meals and service at a somewhat pricey restaurant (could I have very well settled with the likes of a Del Taco? Absolutely!), but more of the fact that he wanted to make sure I was well fed and could enjoy dinner with him. Does it make me feel like a mooch? Guilty? Ashamed? Yes, and I had to convince myself not to feel these thoughts when he brought this offer to the table. Truly, as a starving artist, it is one of the greater gifts I could receive at this moment, and to be even more privileged to have friends like him, who are so considerate and thoughtful. And to add to those adjectives "fun to be around", because after finishing our meal, we were back at the park making the most of a few hours before closing, and in many ways, there is nothing more exhilarating than several screams and lots of water and a sharp drop into a briar patch at 11:30 at night.

I do not say this as a form of pity given my current state of being. If nothing else, this is a bigger lesson I am experiencing in this game of life, one that I will grow from and take to be more self sufficient, that I can take care of myself. And in learning to do so, to take this perspective into the near future, I will be able to help support my husband in our new life together, as well as any children that may be brought into our lives. Meanwhile, I am also continuously growing in gratitude for the people around me and all else that I do have, because as low as my life has felt at times, I have a lot to be thankful for, and so much more that will be brought my way in these years to come.

This prompts me to an additional gift in the form of a graduation dinner where I will play the date of an unlikely fellow this Friday night which, strangely, I am looking forward to.

Another Blanche DuBois

Last week, my tire went flat. Fortunately, I had a spare attached to my car, a roommate with AAA, and no place of utmost priority to attend that night. Fast forward to this afternoon. Big O Tires is patching up my injured tire. I'm waiting for about an hour with a Dr Pepper in one hand, my cell phone exchanging texts in the other, and Fox News spewing Obama critiques and suspicions of Pakistani bombers on the television overhead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my spare tire patched and wheeled over to where my original spare had filled the spot of my front that unfortunately drove over a sharp point rendering it flat. In no time, my tires are back in business and my car is aching to hit the not-so-open road. I go up to the register to pay my dues once the worker calls out to me that my car is ready. A few quick jokes on his part mention my having to pay a million dollars which will not be accepted in the form of bounced checks or credit cards are, by my part, obviously dismissed with my sarcastic wit. He concludes this payment with this declaration: don't worry about it, it's on me. Initially, I question this act of kindness of his part. Thoughts of three more flattened tires or half of my possessions currently living in my car gone missing immediately pop into my head. I have to ask again for the sake of my hearing, which after close proximity to high volume amps, is still quite sharp. He assures me that I don't have to pay a cent and sends me on my way. I leave with five working tires, all of my possessions still nestled comfortably in my car, and a curiosity of what prompted such an act of kindness from this gentleman coupled with an overwhelming wave of gratitude warming my heart.

In an episode of The Twilight Zone, the main character narrates that, "As a race, we're unaccustomed to charity; brutality is a far more universal language to us than an expression of friendship..." Rod Serling's logic far ahead of its time seems quite realistic in regards to this. And then there's the fictitious Blanche DuBois who said, "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." Is she a victim of wishful thinking or merely blinded by idealism? Who is more realistic, the one who expects kindness to be brought their way at every waking moment or the one who cynically questions any unselfish act when presented to them? Is it possible to live in a society where everyone can be nice to each other, or do we need to be surrounded by selfishness to further appreciate when charity shines its light on us?

If there was another person in or out of the room who had witnessed this scene between this good Samaritan in the Big O Tires company shirt and myself, I imagine they could have gone and turned such a moment into a live Liberty Mutual commercial.

Money or Honey?

This week's most recent amazing blast from the past: Spy Game, not the movie, but an ABC show that tickled my fancy with its humor and theme. The incident that striked this glimpse into my long term memory? My roommate simply stating that, whilst watching Alias and after viewing countless episodes of Chuck, she loves spy shows. It's amazing what thirteen years of absence can do to one's memories, not to mention the change of perspective on viewing this short-lived program, though I have barely finished one episode, and only two to my knowledge are posted online. Not to mention, my 11-year old self, as boy crazy as it was, could not appreciate the wit and physical attraction of Linden Ashby that my 24-year old self is immediately smitten by at first (or second?) glance.



My roommate asked me for money. She was actually asking me for honey. I don't think I hear well when I'm feeling this way.

And the train of thought that occurs when wanting to record Goodfellas after watching the most recent episode of Community based heavily on this movie? Yes, I did. This is the same train of thought that got me to watch Life As A House again after viewing trailers for A Nightmare On Elm Street, and American Beauty after watching Family Guy's parody of the plastic bag blowing in the wind caught on film. Could I be going crazy? That's a potential blog post for another day.

All I Do Is Dream

The Everly Brothers have been on repeat in my mind, and on my laptop, for the last several minutes. I keep having certain dreams that make wonder whether they are merely screams from my subconscious, desires I dare not echo in public, or occurances waiting to happen. I might just have a wild imagination, with a strong emphasis on the "wild", but what is it about dreams? Why do some dreams just stick to one's thoughts while others are forgotten soon after waking up? Why are some dreams only dreamt once, some twice, some on continual repeat, some on shuffle mode? Why are some in color or black and white? What about point of view, seeing through the eyes of oneself or as someone else or another party in no way involved with the current events? How can some dreams appear so transparent and untouchable as if it were only a movie, and other dreams so vivid and realistic from the smell of the atmosphere to the density of the surrounding matter to the texture of a person's skin?

I have come to the conclusion that not only should I start deciphering these bizarre recurring images that visually stimulate my dreams, I should also write what I dream about as soon as I wake up.

What also amuses me relating to this is that the remake of A Nightmare On Elm Street is opening next week. I, for one, will not be watching, but the trailer for the original film looks a lot scarier than the plethura of trailers swamping television commercials and Youtube for this somewhat anticipated and heavily fan debated remake. Perhaps it's partially due to the empathy that the viewer may have on Freddy Kreuger after watching the first 45 seconds of the trailer? Oh well, that's Hollywood.

Marching Along

So that's why it's called March madness: because in a matter of seconds, March is already over. A new month of shows and excitement is going to begin in ten minutes (and about 20 hours). Seriously, March went by very quickly.

I present proof, we made a new video, and although it was finished about a month ago, it doesn't feel like it:



And on a bite related note, a small SPOILER:

...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...

We have a new EP!