29 December 2009

Jane Jane Jane

Whether or not you read Jane Austen, this blog post provides an excellent analysis of what has happened to not only the modern novel, but most especially the plight of the modern novel once it reaches "public domain" status. He also makes a point about how Austen's novels (like Pride and Prejudice) have been turned into brands and are enjoyed for the brand status, rather than as an enjoyable story that is written exceedingly well.

But with the possible exception of the New Testament, no other seminal text has been so greedily trawled for evidence of the reader’s own transcendent superiority. Pride and Prejudice is the kind of book certain people make a point of visibly carrying with them in public, exhibiting it like a designer label. Or a weapon.

Seriously, I couldn't have said it better myself. Go read the post. The first half is the analysis, the second half is a summary/commentary on P&P itself.

Bingley bravely urges him on, pointing out that Elizabeth Bennet is both very pretty and at present without a partner. Darcy looks over to where Lizzy is seated, and either not knowing or not caring that she can easily overhear him, declares:

“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”

So here’s my message of good will to all those aggrieved single women, smoldering with affronted self-esteem, who go angrily about their lives carrying tote bags that read AN ELIZABETH IN A DARCY-LESS WORLD: Ladies, I can help you! I know for a fact that there are very, very many men who would be only too happy to step reluctantly into your life, offend all your friends en masse, and then insult you in particular. You just say the word, I’ll have a whole rugby team of Darcys at your doorstep.

But then, I’m willing to bet these women meet such men all the time. And I’m guessing that they, like Lizzy, don’t recognize a potential Great Romantic Hero in any of them; or maybe they do, and that’s the point. They don’t want a potential romantic hero; they want one who’s already fully fitted out and ready to drive off the showroom floor. God forbid they should have to do any of the body work themselves. Or that, like Lizzy, they’d have to recognize some of their own failings into the bargain. What, are you fuggin’ kidding me…?

BWAHAHAHAA!! THANK YOU!! Seriously, those types of girls are just as bad, if not worse, then the girls who are obsessed with Twilight and think that is quality literature.

25 December 2009

Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. Merry Christmas, prepare to die.

I've been noticing lately that I'm not posting all that often. So I've decided that this blog will now be the official place where I post the random shit I find on the internet. With the occasional existential poetry. Yes, this is a good plan.

And even though New Year's is still a week a way, people are already finding ways to say goodbye to the decade. One of which includes 40 Things That Were Popular at the Beginning of the Decade That Aren't Popular Anymore. It's quite funny. Go check it out. I think my favorite part is that things people were afraid of, like Anthrax and SARS, are on the list. Who even remembers if anything ever came of it? These two potential "epidemics" were sort of the reason why I didn't get a swine flu shot or a regular flu shot this year. I choose to defy mass hysteria.

And to comment on the title of this post, this is a new fun joke for Darren and I. Take the infamous phrase from the movie, replace "you killed my father" with another happier statement and voila. The best way to confuse friends. Or at least get a laugh. Or maybe just a one shoulder shake chuckle.

Merry Christmas everyone!

10 December 2009

Funnyhouse of a Negro

The last play of this semester's CalArts season is Funnyhouse of a Negro by Adrienne Kennedy.

When I first read the play, I didn't get it. But seeing it...it reminds me why we do theatre. This performance that I experience tonight was so good (SO GOOD) that I feel completely speechless. I was on the verge of tears during their curtain call.

Design, direction, and acting were all cohesive and spectacular. The story (or lack of story) hits you hard in the gut and makes you think.

This is why I do theatre.

26 November 2009

good night, and good luck

I sit alone in a dimly lit room typing away at the nothingness of the internet. I say nothingness because despite the hours and hours we devote to it, it gives nothing in return. We may feel like we're a community on these various social networking sites, but it's mostly a facade of timewasting. At least that's how I've felt over the past few months where my own personal internet exchanges have felt severely lacking in some way.

I heard a quote one Sunday at Cornerstone Church. Francis Chan said it, but he said someone else had said it originally, but I don't remember who that someone was supposed to be. Nevertheless it goes something like this: If nothing else, facebook proves that lack of prayer is not for lack of time.
Begging your pardon, but that was severely paraphrased. I know I wrote it down somewhere, but I can't seem to find it.

I suppose I could say that it is for lack of time that I have not updated this blog or my other one. I was quite busy with assisting on Hellzapoppin, the mainstage show at CalArts this fine fall semester. It would appear that it was when I received a break and finally allowed myself a moment to relax that the illness I have felt lingering in my body for the past month decided to spring up. Headache, sniffles, slight sore throat. It's only the beginnings, but I still have hopes that I might be able to beat it away with a big stick.

Hellzapoppin. An entertaining show that lacked coherency and tried to do to many things at once. I wished to feel that communal sense you get when you work on a show and get to know the actors and such, but since I was assistant and not designer, that didn't really happen the way in which I wished it to. I suppose the stress of trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing in my costume classes too would effect that. The designs I'm producing are not the designs I usually produce. I'm bored with the historicity of the class. My designs lack character. I am not investing myself in them as much as I should and this might have something to do with the high turn over rate of each project.

Suffice it to say that going to grad school is tough (not that I expected it to be easy). I think I expected it to be tough in a different way. Which way, I'm not sure. Sometimes I feel like the other people here are really just pretentious bastards hiding behind a facade of intellectualism and critique. But there are many who are not pretentious bastards and those are the ones I befriend more often.

And now I will change the subject and talk about Darren.

This is Darren:
Darren is my boyfriend.

Darren and I met online. The first thing he messaged me about was how Han Solo is a "witty gunslinger archetype." We've been going out for about a month now. I like him, he adores me, so it all works out. So....yeah. Don't really know what else to say about him.

Guess that's it for the life update. Until I have more to post to this silly thing: good night, and good luck.

Oh, and happy thanksgiving.

08 November 2009

when the heart hurts


My life feels a little less without these dear ones in my daily life.
Yet I have life bursting in other ways.
I suppose I shouldn't complain, but I want them here with me as I attempt this journey through unknown waters...

to help stifle this feeling
(even if it's just for a little while)

that I really am alone.

27 October 2009

I think too much.

Okay, maybe only just sometimes.

Because other times,

I don't think at all.

20 October 2009

playful things

Today I feel like sharing with you a bit of fiction. This is a new scene from Love Me Dead.

Very nice. What’s that there?

Please go away.

Nope. It looks like a -

She looks/motions suggestively at James.

Will you get your mind out of the gutter?

It’s not me, it’s your drawing. Roxy's going to hate it. (pause) What? You don’t believe me? Ask her yourself...

Phoebe wanders away, but not far. Roxy’s head appears above the chalkboard, a spotlight makes her look like a floating talking head.



Roxy, do you love me?

It’s like the Beatles, James. All you need...is a formula.


People don’t fall in love with people. They have a chemical reaction: one person’s pheromones responding to another’s. It has absolutely nothing to do with “cute” or “nice” or “pretty” or “sense of humor” or -

(interjecting) Okay! I get it!

- or “nice smile” or “kind” or “good with kids.” or “tight butt.”


As you psychologically build someone up as a romantic interest, your brain releases addictive chemicals into your body, like dopamine and oxytocin, when in said desired person’s presence. We often mistake this for emotions of happiness.

Always the romantic, you are.

Side effects often include mood swings, dizziness, loss of appetite, increased heart rate, sweating, nausea, insomnia, and increased bloodflow to the genitalia. Since these pleasure stimulating chemicals retain many addictive qualities, one of the greatest difficulties for someone suffering from love is to, in fact, stop seeing their romantic interest. Neil Sedaka seemed quite aware of this when in 1962 he produced the song: “Breaking Up is Hard to Do.”

Roxy! Roxy, listen to me! Love...love is giving up your jacket when it’s cold. It’s fighting with each other til there’s nothing left to do but to kiss and make up. It’s giving them the last bite of your favorite dessert. Love is driving 21 hours straight, across the country, just to be with them for a day. It’s stroking their hair when their head’s in the toilet.

Some researchers have shown similarities in the brain activities between subjects in love and subjects with mental illnesses.

(to himself) Love really is a madness, isn’t it?

Yes, James.

Roxy disappears.

14 October 2009

singin in the rain

Every day is a blessing and I have felt this more than usual this week. Things are going well. I finally feel like I have a place at CalArts. I'm working twice as hard on this week's costume project and it's paying off. I'm so pleased by the improvements. Attending Cornerstone Church on Sunday was a blessing. I'm developing deeper friendships with the other designers. I have a place. And this art world, this theatre world is exactly what I should be doing.

Life is going very well (for once).

And I know not to take it for granted. I know from past experience that life behaves very much like a sine wave, good to bad and bad to good. I am blessed regardless. Praise God.

13 October 2009

in the morning

This morning, I wake up.
I go downstairs to make a cup of tea with the song "I Only Have Eyes For You" stuck in my head. The incessant chords, the doo wop sound and the melancholy melody reflect my own state of mind.

I Listen to the outside world and the wind Howls. I look outside. The sky looks pissed. The wind talks back. Like in Ingrid's song.

"My bones are shifting in my skin
And you, my love, are gone"

What is it about the morning and just waking up that makes me acutely sensitive to emotions and/or a sixth sense? Like a place between dreaming and waking. And my mind works in overdrive in twisted repetitiveness of "what does it mean?"

Nothing, Gogo. It means nothing.

11 October 2009


New favorite movie. Stunning visuals. Art direction and costuming was beautiful. It created its own fantasy world for the modern day. Loved it.

10 October 2009

where my peeps at?

Something I'm just completely baffled by is that the other first year MFA costume designers don't seem to want to socialize together. I've tried organizing dinners or asking to do things on weekends and there's always this attitude of not wanting to or simply forgetting.

On the other hand, the set and lighting designers are all very friendly and want to socialize a lot. I've hung out with a group of some form or another 3 times this week. That's 3 times more than any other week this semester. I have a feeling that these people, rather than the costume designers, will be my network, my group, my homies, my posse.

Things are better when you've got a posse.

On that note, I think I should mention the insanity of this Friday evening. We went to an Indian restaurant (Karma) to celebrate Simon's (he's a set designer) birthday. There were ten of us. We had a wonderful time, talking and laughing, etc. The true fun began when we returned to the design studio on campus because Miriam (puppetry program) had decided to make a cake for Simon. This was no ordinary cake. They made the cake look like a big oak tree with angel food, tootsie rolls, and ho hos. The cake was featured on a piece of cardboard alongside a pile of cornflakes to simulate the sound of crunching leaves for the little action figure wrestler turned scarecrow to walk on. The design concept was to bring autumn to Simon since Simon is no longer in Philly.

This is CalArts.

I'm so glad that I'm here.

In other news: I joined NetFlix. Yay.

04 October 2009

I feel

For fear of sounding incredibly emo, all I can say is...

I feel.

I feel a great many things.

03 October 2009

Ingrid Michaelson!

To celebrate my birthday I went to San Diego with my mom and my sister today to go see Ingrid Michaelson play at the House of Blues.

Seriously, fanfreakingtastic show. We ate at the House of Blues beforehand, which means that you get to skip the entire line for having done so. This also meant that our place in the standing room only venue was really good.

We took tequila shots during the opening act, which was Greg Holden, a young man from a small town outside of Manchester, England. He was great. I really enjoyed his stuff.

And then there's Ingrid herself, a master of humor and audience interaction. Oh and did I mention she has a gorgeous voice and sounds about a million times better live than on the album? And the album is fantastic to begin with.

She did not sing my favorite of her little diddies: "Giving Up" but it was such a great show that I don't think it really matters.

28 September 2009

grad school musings

I have a class entitled Graduate Play Analysis. It is formatted quite similarly to the 20th Century Drama class I once had with Dr. Delaney. This class continuously provides wonder and strife for me.

Strife: I feel like the professors (this is a team taught class -- there are 3) are wasting our time with silly questions and obvious answers. They encouraged us in the first week to really work hard and dig deep into the texts, but in class, we barely skim the surface of possibilities. I learned more about Chekhov's The Three Sisters at Westmont than I did in this class. Utter disappointment.

Wonder: I am continually amazed by the marked intelligence and eloquence of my fellow classmates. Each week we are assigned to reflect on one of the provided questions about the play and post it on our class's wiki site. 250 words each. My peers, these colleagues of mine, discuss topics I would not have thought of myself and do so with such clarity, creativity and conciseness. They make me glad I'm here and I so wish to know them better.

27 September 2009

new things

I'm starting a new blog. I'm calling it Searching for Ecclesia. I am using it to recount my adventures in looking for a church in the SCV. Should have 2-3 posts tomorrow afternoon (tomorrow being Sunday, though it is actually tomorrow already) to include last week, this week, and hopefully a post on the meaning of Ecclesia. That is, if I get my homework done :)

Go forth then! Become a follower and follow me thus!

18 September 2009

Politics Test

I'm a Socialist!! Hahahahaa!! I'm so not surprised.
You are a

Social Moderate
(56% permissive)

and an...

Economic Liberal
(8% permissive)

You are best described as a:


Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

10 September 2009

this week

has been great!

know why?

for the first time in a long time...I finally feel
like I'm in the right place.

08 September 2009

"Nightclub" by Billy Collins

You are so beautiful and I am a fool
to be in love with you
is a theme that keeps coming up
in songs and poems.
There seems to be no room for variation.
I have never heard anyone sing
I am so beautiful
and you are a fool to be in love with me,
even though this notion has surely
crossed the minds of women and men alike.
You are so beautiful, too bad you are a fool
is another one you don't hear.
Or, you are a fool to consider me beautiful.
That one you will never hear, guaranteed.

For no particular reason this afternoon
I am listening to Johnny Hartman
whose dark voice can curl around
the concepts on love, beauty, and foolishness
like no one else's can.
It feels like smoke curling up from a cigarette
someone left burning on a baby grand piano
around three o'clock in the morning;
smoke that billows up into the bright lights
while out there in the darkness
some of the beautiful fools have gathered
around little tables to listen,
some with their eyes closed,
others leaning forward into the music
as if it were holding them up,
or twirling the loose ice in a glass,
slipping by degrees into a rhythmic dream.

Yes, there is all this foolish beauty,
borne beyond midnight,
that has no desire to go home,
especially now when everyone in the room
is watching the large man with the tenor sax
that hangs from his neck like a golden fish.
He moves forward to the edge of the stage
and hands the instrument down to me
and nods that I should play.
So I put the mouthpiece to my lips
and blow into it with all my living breath.
We are all so foolish,
my long bebop solo begins by saying,
so damn foolish
we have become beautiful without even knowing it.

07 September 2009

Rob Bell

I know I've posted about this before, but Rob Bell is a gift to this world from God. He is the only pastor/preacher/whatever you want to call him that truly speaks to today's world. God speaks to me through this man. I've been in churches where the approach is to tell the congregation what their getting wrong and that Jesus is better. It makes me feel either angry or guilty. Instead, Rob Bell talks about all the ways that Jesus is better and lets you see for yourself what needs to change.

Go check out his sermons on iTunes. Mars Hill Bible Church.


I wish I had the words to say what I really think, what I really feel.

But it's like there's a block between my brain and my tongue.

And it's in these moments that I really wish that I knew how to write songs. Music usually seems to speak better for me than I do.

05 September 2009


...and only mostly unpacked.

At least the bed and the clothes are done.

02 September 2009


I have a few addictions:

Questionable Content
Bitch in a Bonnet
Girls with Slingshots
OffBeat Bride (I'm not planning a wedding, people, I just like all the creativity flourishing)
Lesbian Pirates from Outer Space (I know it sounds weird, but it's rather entertaining)

On TV:
The Office
Green Wing (albeit only on hulu and veoh.com, but still)

I will not have time for these things once I start school. Hmmm. Sad.

Oh well.

01 September 2009

ray of light through the window

Something I've posted frequently on how I have trouble trying to reconcile my past and my present. The faith I was raised in vs. the faith I discovered through learning at Westmont. It's hard to see sometimes how the two fits together.

I finally started reading this book that I bought a few months ago. Jesus Wants to Save Christians. It has been absolutely revolutionary for me. The book shows how what I've learned at Westmont and the faith I want to ascribe to is truer to the Way of Christ than most of what I've experienced before. I've heard over and over throughout my life that evangelism meant handing out Bible tracts and going on overseas mission trips. And I've heard over and over again that evangelism also meant that you live like Jesus in your everyday life. But no one really explained what that actually meant. So if you never understand, it doesn't make much of a difference in your life when all you hear is that your faith is something between you and God and nothing more.

This book is about people. People in relationship to God as individuals and as a community. We are connected to that state of exile, which the Israelites experienced so much. Oppression by the empire, but this time, the "Christian" nation is also the Empire. It's humbling to be apart of such wealth when so many are so without. Living the Way of Christ is about not forgetting what God has done for me and to do everything to love and help those on the lower socioeconomic level. Because God sees the suffering. He knows what happens in these human derived systems of corruption. We are made in his Image. Yet how often do we actually live like we believe this is true?

So many strands of thoughts trying to make connection. Sorry if you can't follow. Go read the book. It makes so much more sense than I do.

29 August 2009

haunted mansion

Every night at 12:57 am (according to the alarm clock radio on my desk) the house shutters. It sounds like someone has jumped from several feet and landed on a floor whose foundation is hollow apart from the supports. It is very odd.

The other odd thing that happens late at night is that there's a crackling sound that comes from the air conditioning vent in the floor of my bedroom. It sounds like someone is stuck in stiff crinkly plastic bag and it trying to get out.

I'm starting to wonder if this place is haunted.

EDIT: 8/29/08 7:36pm

I asked my mom about the shutter at 12:57am and she said it's because the sprinklers turn off at that time and the noise comes from the water shutting off.

25 August 2009

see through

"A realist masquerading as a cynic who is secretly an optimist."

Okay, so I'm quoting a movie.
Okay, so I'm quoting a silly romantic comedy.

But, really...

As of late: it feels like a very,
VERY true description of


22 August 2009


That's the best word I can come up with for this...experience, this visceral reaction towards two films I've recently seen. One being (500) Days of Summer, the other, Revolutionary Road.

And what do I see?
A deathly look into what my future could be.

Well, first off, don't read this post if you don't want spoilers.

Revolutionary Road follows a married couple who see two different things when they envision at what their lives together could look like. "It takes courage to live the life you want," she says. She dies as she tries. She tries in the wrong way, but she certainly has the courage. Paris wasn't such a childish idea. It was heaven. It was original and different and lovely. RR is the story I'm scared of. It's the story that makes me run away and never ever want to touch that mystery known as marriage, because I see in film and in real life how it can tear your soul to pieces.

(500) Days recounts moments of a relationship between a young man and a young woman over the course of 500 days. The narrator tells us in the very beginning that it's not a love story, and it takes the entire 95 minutes of the film for me to believe this. I'm rooting for them and it all comes to nothing. Well, maybe just on his side. She says she found her fairy tale, even though she didn't believe they were real. But it leaves him in the dust, very misused.

They say that film is the new art form. They say that art reflects life. It's all an illusion really. Life is the everything and the nothing found on film. Rom-coms do nothing but increase the grandeur of the illusion, really. Yet sometimes I want them to make me believe in the lie. Because when these films, such as (500) Days and RR, come around that tout the same cynical perspective (that like Elizabeth though I profess it, it is not my own), I feel like something has died. Maybe if we just clap a little louder...?

I've come to the age where everyone around me is getting married and I think "Why? Why do you do this? Don't you know what you are getting yourself into?" Just this month, not even a full month, only 22 days, I have attended 1 wedding and have heard about 5 weddings and 3 engagements of people whom I know. Among those who are already married, I've heard about babies. Yet, I've heard stories of divorce that are just as rampant, however they are much more disturbing.

Yet, I envy them. I want a taste of that sweetness that has twice tempted my lips, but my story seems to end like Tom's: left in the dust.

I want so much more than the illusions brought to my door. I want so much more than a facade of celebration. I want so much more than they've got planned.

Oh, these paper bullets of the brain.

17 August 2009


I want to watch a movie I think
I scan through my collection
No, no, no, no...I want something to help restore my faith in humanity.
Why do I want this? God only knows.
Then my eyes rest on Baz Lurhmann's Romeo + Juliet Yes!

What? But they kill themselves.

But they kill themselves for love.

Hopeless. I am hopeless. I do not make sense.

Then the words begin: "Two households" etc
Two households...
The feud began, but no one knows where it started. And it just rages on.
Like in "Love Me Dead."
Roxy and James are of two households:
Art and Science.
Intuition and Logic.

Why didn't I realize this before?!
Epiphany. And Radiohead. Bada dum dum.

Matt Jones is the owner of these beautiful photographs of my beloved play.

I wonder what it's like to love something so much that you would do anything for it, even die. That's how we're supposed to love God because that's how he loves us, but I don't think I've ever been there. I think most of the time I'm just existing and thinking (about myself) and hoping for the next best thing even though the next best thing may never come.

flowing, showing, long as I can grow it

I'm tired of being blonde. I want to be a brunette again. But I also really like her hair:

I will probably do some streaks of color next. And then let it grow.

12 August 2009

there's a quarter inch of darkness surrounding my cranium

I've been by myself for too long. I suspect that my posts will spiral into more and more oblivion and more and more nonsense as I continue to live this hibernated life of hiding from the heat and watching movies and tv online and downloading music and ever searching for that answer that will make me feel like I'm whole somehow. I wish you were here. That's what the postcards say. There's only so much that can be done when cleaning a room. There's only so much that can be stood for. There's packing to look forward too but I haven't even put away the old suitcase from the last time I packed. I don't want to go to work because I don't really like my job that much, but it's stiffling being in this house and I get paid to go out of this house. My sister is supposed to come and pick me up and whisk me away for frozen yogurt or something like that. I think I hear her knock at the door...


I want to go to Disneyland. It's been a while. And by "a while" I mean that I haven't been since May, which is a long time to an annual passholder.

I watched the first two episodes of How I Met Your Mother today. I also felt very unproductive


Ingrid. I wish I had a voice as beautiful as hers.
I wish that I could move to Santa Clarita now rather than later.
I wish that I had enough money to not be in a huge amount of debt by the time I leave CalArts.
I wish I had someone to chat with right now, but instead I blog to stretch out, hoping to connect with the world.
I wish that you were here with me.

Because that's all I ever really want, is to be with the people I love.

Love love love
Love me cancerously...well you know how that one goes.
Now playing: Ingrid Michaelson - Highway
via FoxyTunes

08 August 2009

experiences that shape us

kicking and screaming
heart, broken
please don't stop the music
promises promises
toes in the sand
rain in your eyes
tumble tumble
staying up late
going to bed early
concert going
laying in the shade

Life is here. Life is now. Live. Let go. Love.

04 August 2009

U2 - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing fingertips
It burned like a fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the Kingdom Come
When all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well, yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds
And you loosened the chains
Carried the cross
Of all my shame
all my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for


I thing this song can sum up everything I am...and everything I've failed to be.

01 August 2009

I heart Ray LaMontagne

Don't let your mind get weary and confused
Your will be still, don't try
Don't let your heart get heavy child
Inside you there's a strength that lies

Don't let your soul get lonely child
It's only time, it will go by
Don't look for love in faces, places
It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

Don't lose your faith in me
And I will try not to lose faith in you
Don't put your trust in walls
'Cause walls will only crush you when they fall

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

Now playing: Ray LaMontagne - Be Here Now
via FoxyTunes

if only if only

31 July 2009


seriously, the past few days have not been going my way

26 July 2009

lion's mane

So frickin' ginger.
I told you I was restless.
But did you listen?
Now I've gone and changed it.
It's permanent.
And the roots will grow.
Then I'll be a Ginger with it's head in the dirt.

But the part that makes me smile (shhhhhhh it's a secret), is that I think this photo makes me look like I belong in a movie. Like the girl who gets kidnapped by King Kong or something.

Finger waves are next on the list for restless activities to fill this strange life of mine.

home is where'er you rest your rump

Two fabulous roommates and a spectacular house. That is the result of my trek to the Santa Clarita Valley. I also managed to forget my wallet at home. Travelling (albeit not a long distance, but still) with no money and no license makes me nervous.

Why am I so restless lately?

I planning to make a dress form soon. And I may do something radical with my appearance. Maybe it's part of this restless thing.

Stirring stirring stirring. I want to do this:

Have discovered the other Feist-y albums. Pure love.

I want to be feisty.

22 July 2009

these brief hours and weeks

105 sweat
giving up
broken shells
what are you made of?
proper kiss
youtube me
so many houses

i don't care, just pick one

20 July 2009

Young woman

Subtle curves and soft skin. The image of a goddess.
Is this it?

Or is it Imago Dei? BUT!
what is Imago Dei when Dei is
a Father,
a Son,
a Man...?

Which she is She?
Does she whisper from inside a box?
Or yell atop a soaped up one?
Or is she silent gaping back at birds atop her billboard?
Is she destined to the kitchen of Pygmalion and Paphos?

The box screams and tugs.
Does she stay strong?
Still heavenward we gaze.

The She of Me between the Thees is
not silent
nor still
nor subtle.

The only She of Me is mine.

I've been thinking about poetry a lot lately, especially since I've recently been exchanging some bits of verse with a friend. This bit is a reworking of a previous entry here. Everchanging and everflowing as gender naturally is, it will probably change again.

17 July 2009

vicariously victorious

I think I'm doomed to live vicariously through other people's lives.

After all, I'm going into theatre. And not only that, I'm going to be dressing actors. I won't really be on the stage myself. And theatre is about thrusting yourself into a story and feeling and living a story in order to understand something new about the world. Or, in many cases, to simply affirm one's own worldview. This happens quite often in musicals.

Another example may be seen in how I spent my day today: 1.5 episodes of "Green Wing" plus a film and a movie: Rachel Getting Married and Confessions of a Shopaholic. I will probably watch more "Green Wing" later on tonight. These sorts of activities are regular occurrences in my life in Redlands.

Green Wing is a British hospital comedy television show. It's like Scrubs, but 5x as many inappropriate sexual jokes, better witty jokes, and wackier characters. And loads of angsty tension between two main characters. Oh, it's wonderful. Go watch the first season on Hulu. Second season is on MySpace.

(my mood right now can best be described as a mixture between "Mad World" and "Both Sides Now." I find this slightly depressing)

16 July 2009

If I could move to Michigan, I probably would

I decided to listen to a podcast sermon from Rob Bell this morning. "Beware of the dogs" from October last year. Rob Bell is amazing, totally gifted by God. He is the pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

He talked about how humanity moves from a ego-centric understanding of the world into an ethno-centric, and hopefully into a world-centric view. And this is shown in Abraham; as Abraham is just a man who is blessed, who then in turn will bless his descendants, his tribe, who then will bless all the world, all the nations. And it's not just Abraham's calling. We are to move from ego to ethno to world-centric points of view.

And he talked about how he's talked to countless numbers of college students who when they leave their ethno-centric "tribes" of family and community and encounter a world much bigger than they ever knew, a Jesus much bigger than they ever knew and how they return to their tribe and all they get is nothing that they want or need. Criticism and scoffing for disrespecting the tribe. For "falling away" from the truth, when all they've done is seen that the Truth is so much bigger than the truth.

And there I am, caught in between these truths. Caught between loyalties to my tribe, to the world, and to myself. Rob Bell said something like: "how can they preach love and salvation to the world when they aren't even willing to have breakfast with the nations?"

It's not that I don't know who I am or who my God is after broadening my horizons, after learning at Westmont. I've often thought that was the case. Rather, it's that my tribe doesn't live in a world-centric view. As Christians, we are not here to bless each other all the time, we are here to bless the nations. In Love. Through Jesus.

My mom said to me last night when I was talking to her about making plans to move for school, that because not everyone at CalArts wouldn't be Christian that I should be really careful about trusting people. And it caught me offguard, because it's like, what have any Christians done to really make them more trustworthy than anyone else? I screw up all the time. I think about myself more than anyone else, and other people do the same. My roommate for the fall, she lists herself as an "atheist" on facebook. Why should this scare me? Why do we live lives of fear? We should live lives of Love!

And then I wonder "How?"
And then I just get confused.

08 July 2009

as usual, Ingrid knows what to say

All that I know is I'm breathing.
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing...now.


18 June 2009


Good news!

Since the physical therapy is through workers' comp, it means that my gas gets reimbursed as well. My mom just emailed me that the check came this week. This seriously could not have better timing because I need money for this trip and for being able to pay for things before I get the next paycheck after going back to work :D

16 June 2009

come all you weary

I think I'm tired.

Not physically tired. I've slept alright the past few days esp. since I had days off. I think I'm socially tired. I think I'm spiritually tired.

I think I'm tired of the routine of always meeting new people. The coming and going. Never spending enough time with people in order to feel comfortable. I hide, I shrink inside my shell. Waiting for the time to pass til I can go on with something else.

I'm tired of this conversation:
"Where in the States are you from?"
"Oh really? Where abouts?"
"I'm about an hour drive from LA."
"And do you study?"
"I graduated from university a year ago."
"And what did you study?"
"English literature and theatre."
"And are you going on to graduate studies?
"I'm going to start a master's program in the fall. I'll be doing costume design. Like theatre and stuff."
"WOW! That's neat. I didn't know you could get a degree in that."
(you along with everyone else) "Yeah, there are lots of schools that do."

Can't I just hang out with someone who knows me?

15 June 2009

random musings

Is it weird that I miss my ringtone? The wonderful feeling of "I am loved! Someone is calling me!" And the tone reminds me of how fragile life can be and how important relationships are.

"How the story went isn't how the story has to go" how do we do that? do everything without complaining and arguing
We've lost the plot and make up excuses for why we don't want to do something. I don't like this so I'm just going to make noise with my mouth. Gonguesmas
There is always a larger story. Do not forget the larger story. Remember remember remember

16 May 2009

we should all give more hugs

Are we ever content with where we are at, one moment in time?
What about being content vs striving for something better?
But if I'm feeling discontent, when do I ever strive for better? rather than wallow in discontent.

I don't want to be afraid anymore.

I want to be myself again.

It was there.
Just a flicker.
One week of Love Me Dead.
That was Me.

10 May 2009

I'm getting out of here

I'm getting jittery. My plane's tomorrow evening. There's so much to do. I must pack.

I may or may not post on this blog for the next couple of months. Check my Corrymeela blog (or better yet, be a follower!) to read/see what I'm up to. And, yes! there will be pictures.

all that I am
all that I remember
resides there and in you
(pl. pronoun)

and ghostly whispers
rush through "remember me" whence
returned from the Emerald Isle

alas, poor ghost

Now playing: Death Cab For Cutie - Death Of An Interior Decorator
via FoxyTunes
(this song reminds me of the glorious fun of Anon(ymous) rehearsals. Oh, Westmont, I miss you)

09 May 2009

The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

This song is wonderful. I've been listening to it over and over again. It's so beautiful.

The sky looks pissed.
The wind talks back.
The bones are shifting in my skin and you my love are gone.

My room seems wrong.
The bed won't fit.
I can not seem to operate and you my love are gone

So glide away and so be healed and promise not to promise anymore and if you come around again then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door

I'll never say, I'll never love
but I don't say a lot of things and you my love are gone

(Chorus X6)

08 May 2009

how COOL is our God?

I'm doing some internet reading (and consequently also procrastinating on packing for Ireland) on theistic evolution. I've come across some interesting stuff. It's been some time now that I've decided that I believe theistic evolution is more correct than creationism, however, my brain was trained as a child and teenager in fundamental creationism. It's very difficult to retrain myself to think in another direction. It's refreshing to gain greater insight into this topic.

Anyway, in my reading, I have discovered a truly fascinating thing about the ongoing creation of the Earth. A new island was formed in 1963 called Surtsey. It's near Iceland and was formed from volcanic activity.

HOW COOL IS THAT? I had no idea that new land forms would still be happening this far from the beginnings of the universe.

06 May 2009

oink oink

Remember a few weeks ago when I was sick from tonsillitis? Basically, what happened is that I went to the doctor and got the antibiotics. A couple days on that and I felt loads better. And I thought that I was completely better except for the fact that my left tonsil still had a big white spot on it that wasn't going away.

:dramatic voice over: Until now...

I checked today and the white spot is gone. It has left a big gapping hole. So I'm thinking, "huh?" Why the big gapping hole? I really had no idea that something like that could happen to a tonsil. What does this mean?

It means that we are all going to die of swine flu.
Because the media told us so.

crazy beautiful -- or maybe just crazy

Tonight at good ol' B&N there was this man in his 50's who walked in the store and set off the "omg someone is stealing a book!!" alarm. I approached him, as we are trained to do, and asked him if he wanted to put what he was carrying on our scanner so they wouldn't go off went he left. He was on his cell phone and he joked with the person on the other end that the pink policewoman caught him (I was wearing a hot pink shirt). As I dealarminized his books, he said to his friend:

"Yes, she's beautiful. And what's more she's wearing a cross, which makes her even more beautiful."

I think that's one of the best compliments I've gotten in a long time. But, he was old enough to be my dad. If he hadn't said the thing about the cross, I might've thought he was a creeper.

05 May 2009

breaking up is hard to do

I think that letting go of a play is like letting go of someone you love. It feels similar to what I imagine a breakup would be like or a death in the family. You spent so much time and energy into this one thing and then suddenly it's gone. And ultimately there's just this terrible ache because you know you've lost something really special that you will probably never have back ever again.

I truly miss Love Me Dead. I had Becky's version of the song stuck in my head all night at work. I want to go back to Santa Barbara and be with people and talk about the play and develop more scenes and complicate the characters lives to the point of death. Love and death.

I miss you Love Me Dead.

It's not the end. There really are more scenes to write. The play needs more to genuinely build to the final death.

But it was really successful. People enjoyed themselves. Next time, after I've written more scenes, I want the torture of disintegration of Roxy and James' relationship to bring tears. And that we would all question what makes our existence as living breathing cognitive humans do the things that we do even when we know it destroys us.

I love storytelling. I love theatre.

27 April 2009


I worked for 12 hours straight today with small breaks here and there to write a couple of emails and eat something. Which means I've clocked in 14 hours of tutu construction. There is still 2-3 more hours of handsewing. All this for two performances.

But it'll be worth it. Because the Party People are going to look totally badass. Yes, you read that correctly. Badass in tutus.

25 April 2009

have you seen the way they kiss in the movies?

I went back to high school tonight. My old drama department was putting on Thoroughly Modern Millie, my favorite musical, and so I had to go!

Review: Muzzy, Ching Ho, and Mrs. Meers were GREAT! Millie, Mr. Graydon, and Dorothy were okay. Jimmy was awful, which is so sad because the OBC had Gavin Creel as Jimmy and his voice is pure honey. The set and lighting designs were awful beyond awful. Blocks and outlines of things painted on flats with no detail work at all. There were unnecessary light changes that were very distracting and it was too dark. Use darker lighting for intimate settings, not for a musical. And the designer was obsessed with using down light, which of course meant that the actors' faces were half in the dark. If you use down light, you have to supplement it or at least make it softer than your side lighting. The costumes looked like they came from the 60's not the 20's. (Note on fashion history: although the 20's are well known for hiking up the hemlines, in comparison to what we wear today, it was hardly shocking. Three inches below the knee to at the knee, that's it. So any of this above the knee action ain't gonna cut it.)
And if you're curious as to what Thoroughly Modern Millie is, watch their Tony performance. If you imagine the energy being at about half and the mics going in and out, that would be the performance I saw tonight.

On another note, I've decided that I am an alto. I've been parading as a soprano for those choirs I've joined and I took voice lessons as a soprano. But my real power comes from a lower range. Maybe I'm just not exercising my range well enough. This is another thing I can add to my list of "things Lynne wants to do if she could ever afford it." I want to take voice lessons again. I really enjoyed doing that senior year. Voice lessons and dance lessons.

I attempted to work on costumes for LMD today. I feel like I barely made a dent. There's so much to do for this show :sigh:

21 April 2009

trust and love and faith and glory and peace

There are many things that plague my thoughts recently.

1) I don't have enough money raised for my volunteering at Corrymeela. Which means out of pocket when I don't have any money to contribute.
2) Any leave of absence over 30 days from Barnes and Noble means termination. Which means if I want to have my job when I come back I have to reapply and they may find someone while I'm gone who they'll train and stay longer than me anyway.
3) Money for grad school. When do I not worry about that?
4) Trying to get the insurance company to approve more physical therapy sessions because I'm not getting better. And the doctor's restriction is 10 pounds and I'm still pushing around heavy carts and I was hurting pretty badly this morning after shelving.
5) They added a zoning shift for me on Monday, which means that I'm won't be in SB as long as I thought I might be able. Which is hard because it is easier to work when there is space. The computer/sewing room at home is crowded with crap and I don't have much table space to work.
6) An odd sort of conversation I had Sunday where I didn't feel like we were communicating well and therefore, unintentionally misrepresenting myself. And some things that I said that when said out loud instead of in my head did not seem to accurately represent my true thoughts and feelings.

But life is more than money and I've felt enslaved to it since survival often requires some acquisition of it.

But God says to lay my burdens at her feet. Faith like a child. And if there will be tears, then why not anoint his feet with them?

She is the God who is my Mother and my Father. She is the God that made the mind blowing expanse of the universe. Who lives outside of time and when he looks at my life, just says "yep."

18 April 2009

I know.

Han Solo is my movie crush. There are just so many things that I love about him. And he's just totally bad ass and that makes everything better.

Also, despite some of my feminist tendencies with a dash of bitterness, I'm still a complete sucker for a good love story, or even just a cheesy made for TV movie. I'm not sure that it's hope. Unless "hope" is another word for an ache that something better exists even when what I experience makes it seems impossible. The word "hope" usually indicates some kind of optimism and I don't think I have more than an eighth of a glass left.

15 April 2009

the things that make one's plan go array

white spots

As if I already didn't have enough wrong with me physically, I had to go and get tonsillitis. Praise God for the advancement of medicine and antibiotics.
I'm worried because calling out sick from work means not getting paid. My illness also gives me just two days in Santa Barbara instead of three. There's so much work to be done for this show.

I think that I got sick because I was stressed. Not really over the show, but more because I still need $300 to be able to go to Corrymeela. Because I still owe thousands upon thousands to Westmont. Because I will take out more loans for CalArts. Because this business with my sciatic pain isn't going away.

I've been praying the Daily Office recently. This one feels particularly applicable:
God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we will be saved, in quietness and confidence will be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Here I am.

11 April 2009

little things that create smiles

This has to be my favorite rant EVER about weddings.

Go read it and if you don't laugh by the end, then I feel sorry for you.


Oh gosh, if I'm browsing through icanhazcheeseburger.com, I'm either incredibly bored or I'm procrastinating having to clean my bathroom.

09 April 2009

déesse f. noun

Thoughts, be careful.
Words, tread softly.

I know what's true yet fear creeps near
I question my culture
I question myself
I question my God


Is this what it means to be a woman? Soft skin, subtle curves, in the image of a goddess?
No, no, imago Dei.

What does femininity mean if it is simply a construct of society? What does it mean to be a woman? What kind of female identity finds rest or peace when made imago Dei and Dei is a Father, a Son, a Man?

Which she is She?
Does she whisper from inside a box?
Or yell atop a soaped up one?
Or is she silent gaping back at birds atop her billboard?

The She of Me between the Thees is
not silent
nor still
nor subtle.

The only She of Me is mine.

08 April 2009

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev'ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand.

"In Christ Alone"
Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2001 Kingsway Thankyou Music

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

As we reflect on this Easter weekend may your love, your death, your blood, your power be always in our hearts and our minds.
Thanks be to the Lord.

05 April 2009


I think I may have found the church I want to go to when I move this fall.

All Saints Charismatic Episcopal Church.


04 April 2009

what sanctity?

So Iowa...a decision to fire up the conservatives and joyfully light up the liberals.

I, like so many Americans and Christians, have thought much on this topic (at least I hope they've really thought). There's a couple things that I've noticed about this conflict. It's centered around two things: legal rights and labels. Poll after poll will show that the liberals will fight for gay marriage rights, the moderates are willing to grant civil unions, and the conservatives don't want either option.

First, legal rights. Personally, I feel like gay marriage in America should be legal in every state if all it comes down to is legal rights. Hospital visits, tax breaks, etc. Honestly, why would you deny someone hospital visits if they were in a committed relationship with someone for years and years? And what about all the foreigners who are willing to pay good money to marry Americans so they can get their papers and have our legal rights? Same difference. It's all just bureaucracy and working the system.

Then, there's the labels. If it's all about legal rights, then what does it matter if it's called a "civil union" or a "marriage?" That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. "Marriage" and "civil union" are simply just terms, signifiers really, if we want to deconstruct things, that indicate something else. If a marriage looks the same as a civil union on paper, then what is the real difference? What has our culture or our nature done to prove the sanctity of marriage over a civil union? There's the "oops! I'm pregnant!" marriage, there's the "OMG I LUV U SO MUCH" marriage that ends in divorce before they ever turn thirty, and of course, my favorite, is the "I'vefallenoutoflovewithyoueventhoughwe'vebeenmarriedfor25 years" shenanigan. If the divorce rate really is 50% and we (and by "we," I mean heterosexuals) really do treat marriage so flippantly (including the Christian community), then why do we fight to keep others from having something we don't appreciate, yet give lots of lip service too?

A wedding should be about coming together as a community, to celebrate life, to celebrate relationships. A marriage should be about commitment. The Christian liturgy for weddings says "til death do us part" for a reason. If you can't commit, don't get married. Marriage, real marriage, should be sanctified by the church, not the government. Not the legal system. If someone were to have the ceremony, say the vows, commit to one another, shouldn't that be enough? Why does the legal part make it official? Isn't God bigger than the Man? And, what did they do before the paperwork? Write their name in blood on a piece of wood? No, the community affirmed an agreement between two families and two people (I am not defending a system of arranged marriage or the buying and selling of daughters in that statement).

Getting married, to me, means coming before God and your community to declare a lifelong commitment of partnership and mean it. Being married means spending one's entire life living that out: commitment in selfless love. You could say that the "legal" thing is the part of coming before the community, but if I were to ask someone who their community is, they would answer with: my friends, my family, my colleagues, my church, not the State of California. Why do they say "By the power vested in me, by the State of California, I now pronounce you..." Shouldn't the people, not the state, and most especially God pronounce us to be in community with one another?

But as for religious beliefs. Here's what I say: take care of your widows and orphans. Take care of your single parents. Take care of those who are homeless. Take care of those who have nothing. Do that, and THEN you can argue with me on whether or not homosexuality is a sin. And I can think of a host of reasons why it's probably not.

If America is simply sitting on their arses, yelling at the politicians because they are worried about the sanctity of marriage, but they aren't doing anything to help the poor, then I think they are full of shit.

02 April 2009


When my heart is torn and my mind has melted and my spirit has dwindled, there is only one thing to do. Pray. Here is one that Jane Austen wrote:

Father of Heaven! whose goodness has brought us in safety to the close of this day, dispose our hearts in fervent prayer. Another day is now gone, and added to those, for which we were before accountable. Teach us Almighty Father, to consider this solemn truth, as we should do, that we may feel the importance of every day, and every hour as it passes, and earnestly strive to make a better use of what thy goodness may yet bestow on us, than we have done of the time past.

Give us grace to endeavour after a truly Christian spirit to seek to attain that temper of forbearance and patience of which our blessed Saviour has set us the highest example; and which, while it prepares us for the spiritual happiness of the life to come, will secure to us the best enjoyment of what this world can give. Incline us, oh God! to think humbly of ourselves, to be severe only in the examination of our own conduct, to consider our fellow-creatures with kindness, and to judge of all they say and do with that charity which we would desire from them ourselves.

We thank thee with all our hearts for every gracious dispensation, for all the blessings that have attended our lives, for every hour of safety, health and peace, of domestic comfort and innocent enjoyment. We feel that we have been blessed far beyond any thing that we have deserved; and though we cannot but pray for a continuance of all these mercies, we acknowledge our unworthiness of them and implore thee to pardon the presumption of our desires.

Keep us oh! Heavenly Father from evil this night. Bring us in safety to the beginning of another day and grant that we may rise again with every serious and religious feeling which now directs us.

May thy mercy be extended over all mankind, bringing the ignorant to the knowledge of thy truth, awakening the impenitent, touching the hardened. Look with compassion upon the afflicted of every condition, assuage the pangs of disease, comfort the broken in spirit.

More particularly do we pray for the safety and welfare of our own family and friends wheresoever dispersed, beseeching thee to avert from them all material and lasting evil of body or mind; and may we by the assistance of thy Holy Spirit so conduct ourselves on earth as to secure an eternity of happiness with each other in thy heavenly kingdom. Grant this most merciful Father, for the sake of our blessed Saviour.

29 March 2009

Gerard Manley Hopkins -- The Candle Indoors

SOME candle clear burns somewhere I come by.
I muse at how its being puts blissful back
With yellowy moisture mild night’s blear-all black,
Or to-fro tender trambeams truckle at the eye.

By that window what task what fingers ply,

I plod wondering, a-wanting, just for lack
Of answer the eagerer a-wanting Jessy or Jack
There God to aggrándise, God to glorify.—

Come you indoors, come home; your fading fire
Mend first and vital candle in close heart’s vault:
You there are master, do your own desire;

What hinders? Are you beam-blind, yet to a fault
In a neighbour deft-handed? Are you that liar
And, cast by conscience out, spendsavour salt?

26 March 2009

Woot. Woot.

I did something today that I've been meaning to do for some time.

I put my Westmont alum license plate frame on my car.

Bought a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies after work.
I also did my laundry (incl. bed sheets!)
Ran errands for two hours
Rented two movies
Spent at least an hour browsing CalArts' theatre website
Bought lots of fruit and veggies for a yummy dinner
Sang along to a lovely jazz playlist I put together about a year and a half ago but rarely listen to

And I felt happy...

It seems to be a rarer emotion for me nowadays. I did things today. I didn't just sit around staring at the air (or random fb pages).

Did I mention that I have the house to myself this weekend? My mom and sister went to Colorado for the weekend (they are thinking about moving to Colorado -- crazy!), where they were promptly met by a blizzard. I think I feel happier because as much as I love my mom, I don't like living here. Because she still likes me to check in with her when it comes to my whereabouts. And in general I feel guilty for forgetting to take out the trash. I just need a little independence.

I like this song. It makes me want to fall in love. Or go to Paris. However, considering past experiences -- it's probably better that I go to Paris.

I'm tired. Goodnight.

25 March 2009


Now that we have a president in office who is more technologically literate there are interesting things happening, like a blog, YouTube vids, etc. One that has recently captured my attention is this Open For Questions business. My first reaction is that this is a really cool idea! You can ask the President questions and also vote on which questions you want to hear answers about and he'll actually answer them. Wow. Impressive, right?

Except for one thing. You have to create an account (as if I wasn't already signed up for a hundred other things that I didn't really want). Call me paranoid, but I feel like this is one more way that the government is able to keep tabs on us. A username, password, email address, zip code and IP address. Hmmm. Standard for pretty much every site.

I understand that signing up for an account with Open For Questions helps moderate the site and keeps spammers away. That's a very legit reason. And why is it that I feel a little uncertain about signing up with just my zip code and email when a couple handfuls of websites have my home address and PayPal, Amazon, eBay, Kiva and a number of other sites all have my credit card numbers? Do I even need to go into the whole debacle of the ridiculous copyright rules of posting photos on facebook or the fact that almost every college student in America probably lists their cell phone number too?

We, Americans, protect our privacy almost religiously, yet we give our information quite freely to the internet. Compare us to other countries, say the UK, where billions of pounds are spent every year on CCTV, and it doesn't seem quite as odd. The average person in the UK may be caught on camera 300 times a day.

And then we blog. Letting some of the most private thoughts out in the open, hoping that one person will comment and say "I agree with you!" as if that really justifies our existence in the world.

Strange we become when given this medium of global communication.

24 March 2009

a multiple choice final exam

A Westmont Liberal Arts education is good for:

a) Getting a job.
b) Finding a husband and/or wife.
c) Conversation at a cocktail party.
d) Going into debt.
e) Boxing with kangaroos in the Outback.

Let's hear it for the boys!

Here is a lovely article from the New York Times about the gender politics of Jane Austen fans:
...it’s useful to ponder the way our ideas of the masculinity or femininity of works of fiction can change over time. For example, I was surprised to learn a few weeks ago, while researching a story on Jane Austen monster mashups, that until fairly recently the Bardess of Basingstoke was regarded as pretty much for the boys.

“There is a pattern throughout the Victorian period and into the modern era that sees the great English statesmen and literati and gentlemen scholars manifesting their devotion to Austen by reading her novels over and over,” Deidre Lynch, a professor at the University of Toronto who has written extensively on Austen devotees, told me in an e-mail message.

Benjamin Disraeli read “Pride and Prejudice” 17 times, and Matthew Arnold and John Henry Newman read “Mansfield Park” every year. The historian Thomas Babbington Macaulay read Austen obsessively and, as a colonial administrator in India, wrote letters home comparing various colleagues to characters in “Emma” and “Pride and Prejudice.” None of them are known to have covered the books in plain brown paper.

In fact, Lynch points out, the term “Janeite” — today used somewhat derisively to refer to Austen’s besotted female fans — came into usage in the 1890s thanks to men who wore it like a badge of honor. Kipling’s 1923 story “The Janeites” was about a platoon of British soldiers who use Austen talk to distract themselves from the horror of the trenches. And here’s E. M. Forster, coming out as a “Jane Austenite” in 1924:

I am a Jane Austenite, and therefore slightly imbecile about Jane Austen. My fatuous expression, and airs of personal immunity — how ill they sit on the face, say, of a Stevensonian! But Jane Austen is so different. She is my favorite author! I read and reread, the mouth open and the mind closed. Shut up in measureless content, I greet her by the name of most kind hostess, while criticism slumbers.

On the distaff side of the library, women readers were often much less enthusiastic. Charlotte Brönte, Lynch says, bridled when George Henry Lewes (George Eliot’s paramour) kept pushing the novels on her. “Why do you like Miss Austen so very much? I am puzzled on this point.”

The heroine of “Troy Chimneys,” Margaret Kennedy’s 1953 historical novel set in the Regency, offered one possible explanation. When the male hero keeps pressing “Mansfield Park” and “Emma” on a lady he knows, she pushes back, arguing that the books, however entertaining, ended up keeping her, well, in the house. Austen’s “greatest admirers,” she says, “will always be men, I believe. For, when they have had enough of the parlor, they may walk out, you know, and we cannot.”

But by the mid-20th century, Austen had become identified as a women’s author. Lynch points to a 1947 usage cited in the O.E.D. that suggests that the question of the Janeite’s gender was starting to make people nervous:

Men as masculine as Scott and Kipling have been Janeites and have been enthralled by her sly humor and fidelity to reality.

As opposed to the awesome clothes and swoony subplots? Next time I go whaling, I’m taking Jane.

22 March 2009

Two sizes too small

I wonder...what hurts more?

Having your heart broken.


Having someone who you'd trust with your life tell you that you really aren't "the closest" of friends.

Both are shocking, both hurt.
And then your heart shrinks just a little bit more.
Like the Grinch.

i heart John Galliano

19 March 2009

James and the Giant Liturgical Calendar

Solitude and community.
Faith and deeds.
Humility and wisdom.
There is none without the other.
Keeping that tongue in check.

"Show me your faith without deeds and I will show you my faith by what I do." That's what he says. But what do I actually do? What have I done? But what have I done for my brothers and sisters?

Why does the church sacrifice one thing for another? When I was at an Episcopal church I reveled in the holy act of Communion, the spoken words of liturgy passed down for centuries, and the calming environment that actually gave my mind focus for prayer.
When I'm at an evangelical church, I love the worship songs that bang and crash against my chest and give me tears, the preaching of the gospel Jesus' blood is the sacrifice Jesus did this for you Jesus' love, and the amazing insight of the pastor into the Scripture.
Why must we sacrifice good Biblical teaching for tradition and vice versa? There is an either/or mentality I've discovered within the denominations. I want to take Communion with wine, feel convicted by a Biblical sermon, say the Nicene Creed, have more community than just a handshake and a good morning, cross myself for the Father Son and Holy Spirit, and Christus Primatum Tenens always.

But where is your faith without deeds? What are your deeds without faith? Shouldn't we take some advice from James and recognize the both/and of living a life for God?

16 March 2009


I'm not sure if that is an actual word, but I'm starting it right now.

Pedophobia: fear of children
Ochlophobia: fear of large crowds

Therefore, pedochlophobia would be a fear of large crowds of children, which might be what I have been suffering from for the past year and probably still do.

It was last year that I worked at Cold Spring School day care whilst babysitting rich Montecito children wherever I could find them just to pay my rent before I went to Israel. And it was then that I began a sort of disgust for children in general. I know that sounds harsh, but if you had to deal with the crap that I dealt with from these kids...ay, Dios mio.

Recently, I've come around. This past year, I've spent plenty of time questioning whether or not I even wanted to have children if I ever got married. But now I'm thinking that I do. I know that I can't handle having any kids any time soon, because I'm not willing to make that kind of life sacrifice yet. I'm going to grad school and I'd like a few years of theatre experience under my belt before I'd make that kind of commitment to teach another human being how to live and grow. It's the teaching soul within me that wants to instill some ideology in a young brain. Just not a classroom of young brains. I'd shoot myself in the foot before I'd attempt that. And in all likelihood, any ideology I'd instill in a young brain would eventually be rejected in favor of the newer ideas that he/she discovered while in college. At least that's what happened to me, well, mostly. But this is a multi-faceted issue. There's also a fear of completely screwing up the child. There's the fear that my possible husband would screw up my child and I would be powerless to do anything about it. There's a fear of having a child who enjoys disobedience.

But a fear of large crowds of children. That is still there. I will never willingly step foot onto an elementary school campus for many many years. I like kids when there's just one or two of them because they are cute that way. But anything more than that and I want to run away. Maybe like a fear of responsibility?

In other news: Kelly Clarkson's new album is FANTASTIC. Ryan Tedder co-wrote a couple songs with her (like my favorite "Already Gone") and produced a good chunk of the album. I am in love with Ryan Tedder's music, so it makes me very very happy. Katy Perry also wrote two of the songs on the album. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but they are pretty catchy tunes, like most of her stuff.

09 March 2009

that which we call red by any other name

I often like to ask people what their favorite alcoholic drinks are. I think it says something about the person. I don't know what it says, but it's more like an intuitive knowledge about a person.

I have two favorites: Pinot Noir and Sour Apple Martinis.

I like Appletinis because they taste so good and they are so sweet. And there's an emotional tie because it was the first drink my sister bought for me as a 21 year old.

I like Pinot Noir because...because it's smooth. It's not overly tangy like some reds. It has more fruit flavors to savor, especially in comparison to Cabernet. The good Pinots are simply fantastic beyond comprehension.

What's your favorite?

07 March 2009

get a clue

Clueless is on TV right now and I feel inspired to post on it.

Clueless is a 1990's modern take on Jane Austen's novel, Emma. Being an avid Jane Austen fan, you would think that upon hearing that Emma was being turned into a story about a snobby girl from Beverly Hills who has a revolving closet and says "like" more an encyclopedia of similes, that I would be completely horrified. Yet, I'm not. In fact, I think that this particular movie adaptation of an Austen novel is probably one of the better ones out there. Why?

What Clueless does that other Jane Austen movie do not always succeed at:
  • It does not severely deviate away from the basic plot and characters
  • It keeps with the spirit of the story
  • It remembers to not take itself too seriously. Jane Austen is FUNNY
  • The screenplay is actually well-written
I have no idea how accurate this movie is to the experience of a 16-year-old girl from Beverly Hills. To me, this movie seems like an exaggeration of the experience, mostly for humorous purposes. I think the comparison between Cher and Emma works very well though. Emma is a very rich 21-year-old woman who has nothing better to do but meddle in everyone else's business. Similarly, Cher meddles in her friends' and teachers' lives. She is used to getting her way simply because she's got money and cute face, which means people rarely deny her what she wants. Cher and Emma also have a simply character arc where they are humbled by someone pointing out their flaws. That recognition that they aren't perfect and they don't have an answer to everything is what makes their story irresistible, because there are times when you seriously can't stand them at the beginning.

03 March 2009

Love is all you need

Love, love, love. All you need is love.

I'm having trouble writing the opening monologue to Ace II in Love Me Dead. The opening monologue to Act I is all about love and Shakespeare and the multiplicity of it. How it's basically just everywhere. And I need an opener to Act II because it will help the flow of the play.

So I decided to read my journals from last year as research. I don't think I can read them anymore tonight. There's too much pain.

I feel like I have only really truly loved once in my life. And that is because I really loved him, not a love from afar, or an illusion. I knew him and I loved him. Like a river, calm, deep and peaceful. But I kept going in further til the current got too strong and pulled me under. If I hadn't been trying to stand in the middle on my own, I would've stayed upright. It seems my lot in life is to find myself in over my head without someone next to me, to hold to tight and we keep each other afloat.

The pain isn't about lost love, it's lost Lynne. Lost love I've dealt with, I've healed. But there was so much shit that I went through after it. I feel lost after so many months of not dealing with my shit because I didn't know how.

So here I am world. Bitter, jaded, and wholly pessimistic about the goodness of the human spirit. Guess what, dad? The rejection I feel from you won tonight.

So when James says: "I really don’t think you should spend time with her. She’s the kind of girl who manipulates others just for the fun of it. She’ll sink her claws into you if you let her. You don’t know how she can get inside your head." --I actually know someone who treated me like that.

And that's me when Roxy says: "Fine, walk away. That’s all men are good for. Running away when the pressure’s on."

And it's really Lynne when Phoebe says "It happens to every relationship. Someone doesn’t live up to the other’s expectations. You fight about stupid things til you can’t stand each other and you break up, leaving more wounded than when you started. "

Looks like I broke my promise. I thought this blog might be something more than just a venue for my emotional shit. I promised myself to write vague sounding poetry instead.

Poetry: 3
Emotional shit: 1

So I guess I'm winning, even though I broke it?

26 February 2009



I am in shock. I was not expecting this at all.
And when she said I was accepted, all I said was "oh."

25 February 2009


Just a heads up - I started a blog to post about everything happening in regards to my trip to Northern Ireland. I'm volunteering at the Corrymeela Community in May and June this year. And if you would like to donate any money, I am fundraising for the trip. Every little bit will make a difference.

24 February 2009


I guess that if you want to go with a yin-yang worldview that there are bad things that go with the good things and vice versa. Even though there were many good things that had happened yesterday, it ended very very badly. My stomach performed some really impressive gastronomical pyrotechnics. I was up about every half hour last night, throwing up absolutely nothing even though my stomach thought something was there. I'm really grateful to God that at least today I can stomach crackers, 7-up, and half a cup of noodle soup. I am also very very grateful that I have a mother who doesn't bat an eye at all this and has taken care of me so well. I can't imagine what it would be like to live alone and go through all this.

I'm just a little nervous because I've been trying to contact the costume designer at CalArts with whom I am supposed to interview with tomorrow. I've called her and emailed her. I need to move my interview to later. All I need is a day. There is no way I have the energy to finish up my portfolio tonight or the ability to drive out there early tomorrow morning.