Oh, compromise...

Got a haircut today.
Modeled after this:


When I walked in the door afterward, my mom said, "You look so much like Katie Holmes with that haircut."

Later we watched The Ice Storm and she said, "Nope. Holy shit. You do look just like Christina Ricci. I used to say, 'everything but the eyes,' but no, especially the eyes."

I get both frequently and maybe it's a little true and more obvious when I steal their haircuts and watch a movie which features them both...but it's still, "Hey, you look like them only not as pretty," right?
If either of them ever need an uglier little sister in a movie, I'm up for it.

On an unrelated note...I was thinking about will and how easily it can break or... grow stronger.
When it comes down to it, it's really a matter of what you want, sometimes even without understanding it.

There was a guy I used to talk to online when I was in high school. We met once when we were kids and hated each other, still for some reason (which would become clear in time) all those years later he insisted on talking to me.
Eventually we were talking almost everyday, but when he visited my home town it wasn't a pleasant experience and when he visited a second time, it was worse to the point of being disgusting. Both times he treated me like crap, but the second time he blatantly sexually harassed me and I'll spare you the details.

I hadn't talked to the guy in years, on purpose, and with good reason. I signed on to an old screen name when I couldn't sign on with my usual one and immediately received a message from him. I could've ignored him, but I didn't.
Soon it was evident that he hadn't changed at all. Still the same creepy motivations. And why was I talking to him?
I didn't know.

He asked if I'd talk to him again tomorrow and I said I would.
In fact, he made me promise.
Today, I blocked him on that screen name too and I have no intention of ever talking to him again. And even though it might be wrong or spiteful, I think I did the whole thing on purpose.
Even when we were just chatting, early on, when he said things that were off-putting, he was always the type to plead my forgiveness. Someone who couldn't stand to be hated.
I don't hate many people, but I do hate him, and I thought it fair that he should live with it after what he did to me.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Funny, but it seems like the people you most want to talk to, the ones you obsess over, are always the ones who aren't there to talk to you...whether they're getting revenge on you or not.

I know who I wish was here to talk to me...and it sure isn't him.

"There's only one conclusion to every story...We all fall down."

I've heard tales of mothers who got an adrenaline rush and lifted a car to pull their children to safety after a crash.
I've heard mothers say that after you have a child, everything else matters less...you, your husband.

I know my parents don't think they're compatible anymore, or maybe they think they never were. But they don't realize how similar they are.
My dad has this quality about him, an inherited trait, he's conceited. He's belittling. He thinks himself superior to everyone and he's very open about.
My mom has low self-esteem. She has for years and she always lets him get to her.
He's selfish, but she doesn't realize that she's no different.

She resents all of us because she didn't do anything with her life...or because she thinks she didn't. She made sacrifices, I know that, but it's her reaction to that which makes her selfish.

There are stories about your parents that as their child, you should never hear and I heard them all, several times, even as a little kid.
I know about every instance infidelity in their marriage.
I know every harsh word that was ever spoken and every bad thing that ever happened to either of them, in graphic detail.

My mom made sure I knew how much she hated me for ruining her life at five years old and I've heard that sentiment repeated every time she got drunk for years. Which was at least once a month and during the bad times, once a week or more often.

There are things she can't cope with, so she drinks, and then she spills them to me. And as much as she wants to think herself a martyr, making a kid cope with the things you can't handle makes her something else entirely.
She's as selfish as he is and she always has been, and neither of them love me as much as they love themselves or as much as I love them.

A couple times when he was drunk, my dad locked me and my brother in the basement.
My mom once cut my leg with a beer bottle.
They were so sorry.
Not sorry enough to stop.

My dad's the VP of a beer distributorship.
He's a millionaire.
But alcohol helped to ruin them before it ever helped to make them.

I don't really blame it.
They look for excuses to drink, excuses to say all those things they've been aching to say, to me, to each other.

I've never taken a drink and I never will.
People judge me for that. They think I'm square or that I'm judging them, when I don't care what they do.

My Uncle Gary's dying. People from Hospice care were there today and implied that he didn't have long at all. My mom walked into the house at the wrong moment and heard the sobs and all the terrible things his loved ones should've kept to themselves in front of him but didn't.

She came home, and she got drunk, and she reported it all to me.
She talked about her mom and what it was like to watch her die of cancer, how she'd asked my mom to kill her.
Stories I've heard a hundred times, maybe more.
And listening to her make it about her again, I just got so mad.
I told her to go bed.
I sent her to her room like she was a little kid.

My big brother used to go to his room and lock his door when she did it. But I sat and listened to her and held her when she cried, because I loved her more than he did and still she prefers him to this day. They both do.

My parents are killing themselves, and they're killing me, and they don't care.
But maybe I'm the selfish one.

"Ain't love grand?"

"You're not really a writer unless people are readin' your shit."

"I'm an aspiring writer."

Another huge blizzard today.
I shoveled the driveway twice before my parents got home and it barely made a dent. It just kept coming. I almost hopped on the 4 wheeler to do it, but I'd never used the plow and it's been awhile since I'd driven the thing in general.
It finally stopped snowing.

So while I was locked away inside, I made flyers for this benefit my family's having for my uncle Gary and printed them out.
I printed up my screenplay too and got it all set for shipping to the Nantucket Film Festival.

Austin's submissions are due in June and I want to send in both the one I'm submitting to Nantucket and the new one I'm working on, so I gotta get crackin'.

I only have six fans and even my biggest fan hasn't read the last one or didn't like it, so she didn't want to review it, so I guess I'm not really a writer.
But no matter what happens, I can't seem to be discouraged from writing, which is both good and bad.
I'm glad I love something, but I'd like to know if I'm wasting my time.

I have to get through this new one, but the story challenges me at every turn...not because it's difficult to write or I don't know what to put on paper, but because it's stuff I'd have trouble talking about, even with close friends.
In any case, I want to get it out because I have another story idea eating at me.

I think much of the time I give the impression that no amount of encouragement could change my thinking, but somewhere along the line, something must have sunken in...now that everyone's given up on me.

Why I can no longer stand Bill Maher...

To me, part of what makes a person smart is an ability to weigh pros and cons and make their own informed decision about something...an ability to recognize a valid point in an argument that opposes their own.

Years ago, when I used to watch Politically Incorrect, Bill Maher was a bit more moderate and because of this, I agreed with him much more often than I do now.
In agreeing with him, I failed to see how closed-minded he is. Regardless of whether or not someone has a valid point, he doesn't consider it. He just keeps talking.
I really feel like the Bush administration ruined him.
He calls himself a libertarian, but it's obvious he's now extremely left wing. It's like he's gone off his rocker.
A lot of people don't like that he attacks religion and I don't care about that. What bothers me is that he's now embracing the silliest arguments and generalizing, attaching them to tons of people and labeling them all republicans and suddenly all conservatives are the enemy on every issue.
This video really bothered me.


Why do people insist that people who support the tea parties are all racists?

I think it's a stupid analogy because it's not taxation without representation, as we do have representatives, but to me it's as if the current administration is labeling those who don't want to pay high taxes racist as an attempt to scare these citizens into keeping quiet and discredit them, and Hollywood fell for this hook, line, and sinker.
If these groups of citizens, which included democrats, independents, libertarians, and republicans alike were simply to adopt the "Don't Tread on Me" flag as their symbol, would one of the great symbols of American liberty suddenly be considered a racist symbol?

I get my news from PJTV, a moderate website, not Fox, not CNN...and they interview plenty of black people at these tea party conventions.
Could they really all hate their own race?

I doubt it.
It insults our intelligence and it really burns my toast.

Why don't you put your hair back on and come on back?

Just come on back...

Sometimes I feel I'm wearing a mask I don't remember putting on.
Most see me as quite reserved, and always aware of my position with regard to the implications of my interaction with other people.
But sometimes I wonder if my behavior doesn't exemplify my true intent. Sometimes I think it acts as a defense mechanism, one more powerful than even I can understand.
I haven't dated in awhile, but usually when I do, if I get too many phone calls I just stop answering the phone.
I don't know if I cherish "me time" more than most, or if my behavior is self-destructive, ensuring that I will remain alone.
Still, there are exceptions to the rule. People who cause me to rack my brain for an excuse to start a conversation with them. These people afford a glimmer of hope.

One such person seemed equally fascinated by me in the beginning, and the effortless ability to hold a conversation for hours or carry it over for days made me wonder if I too was worthy of companionship.
Now the conversations are fewer, shorter...and I find myself fanning a dying flame while the other person waits for the embers to go dark. The thought that I could need something that isn't essential to my being makes me feel pathetic. And when my thoughts drift back to the fire, I wonder if it's ever in the mind of that other person or if I am completely alone in this.

I wonder how something that seemed to fit together so perfectly could be broken apart and slip away without warning, how one could be left with a void and the other think nothing of it.
And if I was unworthy, I wonder why this person was ever a part of my life, why one would be made to seem so perfectly compatible with me, only to be lost.
I wonder if in knowing me well, all interest faded away.
I feel abandoned.
I wonder if some people exist, beautiful, distant, perfect...just to make us suffer.
And I marvel at the idea that someone who once made me feel intelligent, interesting, and significant could make me feel so much less than before they entered my life.

What's not to like?

You ever get the feeling some people just disagree with you to piss you off?

Don't get me wrong, I hate people who agree with everything I say out of a lack of personality or a need to appease, but the need to be contrary or play the Devil's Advocate at all times really bugs me.

My brother's been doing that to me for a few years now.
His taste used to mirror mine in film and music. Not so anymore. The influence of others over his impressionable personality ruined him and now he seems to disagree with me on everything.
Once we were both naturalists. Some of my favorite movies to watch in the house were his.
One lousy girlfriend later, I was the only one watching them, and he only watches escapist films.
It seems like whenever I really love something now, he makes his best effort to hate it.
Ex. I loved Rilo Kiley.
He said, "I don't like that talk-singing, storyteller crap."
Therefore, he never listened to Jenny Lewis and when I transitioned into liking folk, he was left behind.

What bothers me most, I think, is that when I really like an actor or actress, he says he doesn't like them and when I start liking one he likes, he claims not to like them anymore.
When we were younger, we both watched Beautiful Girls a lot, and when Episode I came out, he developed a huge crush on Natalie Portman.
For years, I looked up to her, but when Garden State and Closer came out and he couldn't like them because they conflicted with his Anti-naturalism thing, my liking of her surpassed his. All of the sudden, he's not so big on Natalie Portman and I am.

He doesn't like Emily Blunt, Evangeline Lilly, Angelina Jolie, and Evan Rachel Wood because of my obsession with them.
He has said complimentary things about them and he does watch their movies, but claims not to like them to bug me, or because he's weirded out by how much I like them.

I once noted that Scarlett Johansson, Natalie Portman, Evan Rachel Wood, and Jennifer Connelly were Jewish.
He said, "I must like Jewish girls."
I replied, "Me too."
He just smiled and shook his head.

When watching Sunshine Cleaning with my parents, my mom told my dad, "Mike loves the redhead."
I replied, "Ash loves the brunette."
Mike later said, "You have to stop saying you love girls."

He's just going to have to get over the fact that I do have girl crushes and we happen to have the same taste in women, haha.
I don't know if he's uncomfortable because he's "worried about me" or because he's insecure.

I'm forcing him to see Wolfman with me this weekend.
Oh and just because I said he was great in Things We Lost in the Fire, he says he doesn't like Benicio del Toro.

Really burns my toast!






What's not to like?

You asked for it...

The Musketeers of Pig Alley (1912)
Traffic in Souls (1913)
The Pawnshop (1916)
The General (1927)
Sunrise (1928)
Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928)


Scarface (1931)
King Kong (1933)
Tokyo no onna (Woman of Tokyo) (1933)
Modern Times (1936)
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Gone With the Wind (1939)
The Wizard of Oz (1939)
Dark Victory (1939)
Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
The Bicycle Thief (1948)



A Place in the Sun (1951)
Dial M for Murder (1954)
White Christmas (1954)
On the Waterfront (1954)
Rear Window (1954)
A Bout de Souffle (Breathless) (1959)
North by Northwest (1959)
Gidget (1959)



Splendor in the Grass (1961)
To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
Lásky jedné plavovlásky (Loves of a Blonde) (1965)
Blow Up (1966)
Bonnie and Clyde (1967)



Badlands (1973)
Chinatown (1974)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
Jaws (1975)
Carrie (1976)
Days of Heaven (1978)
The Deer Hunter(1979)
Apocalypse Now (1979)
The Amityville Horror (1979)



The Shining (1980)
Vacation (1983)
Red Dawn (1984)
Blood Simple (1984)
The Breakfast Club (1984)
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Lucas (1986)
Die Hard (1988)
Beetle Juice (1988)
Uncle Buck (1989)
Heathers (1989)
Sex, Lies, and Videotape (1989)
Field of Dreams (1989)

Okay...it's time for the 90s and up to present, so I'm going to leave out the year. I'm in my element now;)


"Beautiful Girls,"
American Beauty,"
"Donnie Darko,"
"Igby Goes Down,"
"Hackers,"
"Requiem for a Dream,"
"Freeway,"
"American Psycho,"
“The Professional”
"Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys,"
"Grand Canyon,"
"Gia,"
"Stardom,"
"Girl, Interrupted,"
"Higher Learning"
"The Ice Storm,"
"Meet Joe Black,"
"But I'm a Cheerleader,"
"Untamed Heart,"
"Playing Mona Lisa,"
"Cheaters,"
"The Believer,"
"White Oleander,"
"Benny and Joon,"
"Serendipity"
"Spun,"
"The General's Daughter,"
"Adventures in Babysitting,"
"Edward Scissorhands"
"The Virgin Suicides,"
"What's Eating Gilbert Grape,"
"Frailty,"
"Mars Attacks!"
"Laurel Canyon,"
"The Man Who Wasn't There,"
"Playing by Heart,"
"Trainspotting,"
"Murder by Numbers,"
"The Rules of Attraction,"
"The Talented Mr. Ripley,"
"The Other Sister,"
"Wild Things,"
"Empire Records,"
"Waking the Dead,"
"Where the Heart Is,"
"Ghost World,"
"Outside Providence,"
"The Gift," "Elephant,"
"Hard Candy,"
"Anywhere but Here,"
"Panic,"
"Sexy Beast,"
"Office Space,"
"Brokedown Palace,"
"Romy and Michele's Highschool Reunion,"
"Renaissance Man,"
"Uncle Buck,"
"What about Bob?"
"Fried Green Tomatoes"
"eXistenZ,"
"Moonlight and Valentino,"
"An American Rhapsody,"
"The Burbs,"
"The War,"
"Interview with the Vampire," "
A Simple Plan,"
"Bong Water,"
"Highway,"
Sleepers,"
"Hideaway,"
"A River Runs Through It,"
"Heavenly Creatures,"
"Thirteen,"
"Clueless,"
A Simple Twist of Fate," "
My Girl,"
"Legends of the Fall,"
"Overnight,"
"Great Expectations"
"Mortal Thoughts,"
"The Cure,"
"The Devil's Advocate,"
"Romeo is Bleeding,"
"Malice,"
"Dead Calm,"
"Lawn Dogs,
"Two Days in the Valley,"
"Onegin,"
"The Last Days of Disco,"
“Boyz n the Hood”


"My Summer of Love,"
"In the Bedroom,"
Naissance des pieuvres (Water Lilies)
"Lymelife"
"The New World,"
"V for Vendetta,"
"The Human Stain,"
"Down in the Valley,"
"The Good Girl,"
"Away We Go,"
"Mean Creek,"
"The Hurt Locker,"
"All the Real Girls,"
"The Lovely Bones,"
"Henry Poole is Here,"
"Things We Lost in the Fire,"
"Away From Her,"
"Junebug,"
"Adaptation,"
"Serenity,"
"Pretty Persuasion,"
"Garden State,"
"25th Hour,"
"Secretary,"
"The Jacket,"
"United States of Leland."
"Lost In Translation,"
"Big Fish,"
"Pure,"
"The Slaughter Rule,"
"House of Sand and Fog,"
"Stay,"
"300"
"Cherish,"
"The Upside of Anger,"
"Closer,"
"Domino,"
"Eulogy,"
"Fierce People,"
"Speak,"
"10th & Wolf"
"Lost and Delirious,"
"Blue Car,"
"The Royal Tenenbaums,"
"Saved!"
"Almost Famous,"
"Waitress,"
"No Country for Old Men,"
"Running with Scissors,"
"Jesus Camp,"
"An American Crime,"
"Lars and the Real Girl,"
"Silk,"
"Volver,"
"Atonement,"
"Gideon's Daughter,"
"The Sleeping Dictionary,"
"3:10 to Yuma,"
"Talk to Her,"
"Black Snake Moan,"
"Where the Truth Lies,"
"Dreamland,"
"The Secret (Si j'étais toi),"
"Changeling,"
"Sunshine Cleaning," "
In Bruges,"
"Adventureland,"
"The Fountain,"
"A Love Song for Bobby Long,"
"Pieces of April,"
"Love Actually,"
"The New World,"
"Life As a House”
”The Prestige."

The snow's comin' down. I'm watchin' it fall...

If you know anything about me at all, you probably me know that my greatest love in life is my love of film. What you might not know is that a close second is my love for music. Maybe it's sometimes on equal footing and depending on mood, it might even surpass film. Music has the power to alter my mood completely. To take me from utter despair to euphoria and vice versa.

There's a great blizzard out there today, a complete whiteout.
I had to venture out earlier (even though I didn't feel like it) to go to the drug store for my antibiotics and my prilosec. The roads were terrible and I was freezing. The world was so gray that when I returned home, I wasn't in the best mood. But then I remembered that I wanted to find out which artist had covered "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister on last night's Damages, because it was kinda different, but I loved it.
Turns out it was this band called Hellsongs who also does covers of AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Slayer, Metallica, and others. They cover these metal songs and make them acoustic and totally beautiful.

Then on the FX website where I found the first song, I found another great band who was featured in the episode, a band called Color of Clouds.
This after discovering yesterday that I love every song Pete Yorn ever recorded.

"You know what it's like in the beginnings, when getting a call from her...it makes your day? It's like...seeing a shooting star."

Discovering new music for me is just like falling in love.

You ever get the feeling the world is a tuxedo...

and you're a pair of brown shoes?

First off, let me say, although I want the Saints to win tonight, I think they're goin' down and that's where my money's at.

Also, we should soon be filming episode two of Hop on Pop Culture with Tree and Stump.
We plan to get it out before The Oscars to discuss predictions and allow me to tell you who should win but won't and who was better than those nominated, but got no recognition.
If you missed the first episode, check it out here:
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=101498846
Comments are welcome.

Okay...this is where the blog once again transitions into a girly blog about my hair.
I wanted to grow it out. The goal is Penelope Cruz's hair in Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Now that I'm about halfway there (and this always happens), I change my mind and start wanting Linda Evangelista's hair in the Freedom '90 video.
I have really thick hair and I could probably do either, but I've haven't tried. I just get stuck in between those extreme stages. But I have a round face and naturally puffy cheeks, so maybe it's best to avoid short hair.
You tell me...

Surely not the luckiest man....

My uncle was recently diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease, after months of doctors not knowing what was wrong with him, claiming that sleep apnea had caused brain damage.
Gary was one of the biggest men I'd ever seen up close, probably 6'8 and pretty heavy, but he's lost over 100 pounds, just wasting away.
Today I went with my Aunt, her daughter, Gary's mom, and my mom down to the hospital where he's being treated in Detroit. He was in the ICU and we learned how his ventilator works, how to inject his medications, how to change ventilators so he can talk, how to suction his air passage, and how to bag him if there's trouble with the vent.
His daughter met us there and I could tell by looking at her that she wasn't paying attention. She wasn't interested in a thing that was said and I knew she wasn't willing to help. She wouldn't even hug him.

My Aunt's crazy to bring him home now. I've never seen him so weak and she won't read about how the machines work. She implied that she wanted us there to take notes and help her learn how everything worked, but once we were there, we could tell the plan had changed. We know she expects both my mom and me to suck the gunk out of his trach tube every three hours, give him sponge baths, and wipe his butt.
As selfish as it sounds, I don't think there's any way I could do that.
Gary is one of the few people in my family that I can stand, but he and my Aunt have only been married a few years and honestly, I don't know him that well.
Even if it was one of my parents, I doubt I could do it. I'd have to hire a nurse.
I have a thing about necks...I can't even touch my own let alone shove a tube through a hole someone else's to suction out out mucus so they can breathe.

They showed us the machine and then he became the machine. They talked about him like he wasn't even there. What it would take to keep him running.
I gave him a hug, told him a stories, and made him smile, and it made me feel worse for him knowing that he's in there...his brain still works and he can still comprehend everything around him, but he can't move. He can't even move enough to breathe.
Kierkegaard said,"Only the noble of heart are called to difficulty," so perhaps the noble thing to do is get over my phobias and just do it.

Now it's time to wake up.

Someone once told me, "You grow up when you give up your dreams, when you see things as they are, and you stop living for yourself."
"What's the point of living if you don't have a dream? I'd rather stick a knife in my gut right now than live like that," I retorted.
But I'm starting to believe that this unadulterated passion comes from youth and that giving up and growing up could quite possibly be one in the same.

Reality has stepped in to stomp out the fires of my idealism and from the ashes, I rise like a phoenix, new, changed...but as something I never wanted to be.
I write this thinking that I shouldn't be writing anything anymore, thinking that the things I write aren't any good and that the praise of strangers meant to soften the blows of my failure have made them far worse in the end.

I'm not special.
I'm a number.
Another blurred image in a crowd of the faceless.
I am reborn, but my phoenix is not powerful as she was meant to be, yet she looks down at the old me and feels only pity.

A fellowship with HBO, a fellowship with ABC, two film festival submissions...these are the forms I've filled out this week.
The promise of collaboration and the financing of both my scripts from a young novelist I do not trust, one who claims he has industry ties.
I hear praise, I fill out forms, I'm promised results and change...but nothing ever comes of it and I've never felt so discouraged.

Early this week I went to a job interview and the interviewer told me "We don't much like creative types around here. You couldn't handle the monotony."
I look at my heroes and I am baffled by and envious at the idea of actually being good at something, being so good at something that it's potent, unable to be missed.
And here I sit, unable to do anything, punished for a creativity that in truth, I do not possess.

Today, the letter from a law school in Lansing arrives.
I'm invited to their next open house and my parents encourage me to go.
I couldn't throw it away and I wasn't even insulted by the implication that I should forget everything I've ever wanted and go to law school instead...just because I can.
It's time to wake up.
It's time to choose.

In my romanticism, I never thought I'd have to face it...the possibility of not getting to do what I'd planned on doing.
I never thought I'd face the blade.
And surprisingly enough, I think I'm choosing law school over it.

To vanish into oblivion is easy to do.

Sometimes I think I can feel myself disappearing.
I know some people don't like to think about the fact that every moment that passes is another they can't get back, that they're a moment closer to their own demise, but sometimes I think I can feel it.
I can feel myself winding down and getting to that place where people don't think of you every day anymore, where not one person does.
Nobody calls me.
No one sends me a message, an e-mail, or a letter.
I don't see anybody, no one sees me.
I don't hear anybody.
Nobody hears me.

I'm alone most of the time and it's starting to wear me down.
I don't feel like sleeping until I do, and then I don't feel like getting up.
I don't have an appetite.
It was 3pm before I had anything to eat today and even then I didn't feel hungry.
I never have a reason to go anywhere, but when a reason comes up, I don't want to go out.

The things that I love and the people who don't love me back don't seem enough to sustain me anymore.
I think about people all day long and nobody thinks about me and I've reached a point where I don't want to think about them either.
Deep down in the pit of my stomach I feel myself dying and I wish I'd do it faster.

I have a job interview tomorrow and I'm hoping for a chance to do something...anything that would get me out of the house.
But at the end of the day nobody cares about me and even though I've tried to deny that it was important for years, I wish somebody did, just one person.
Because I'm in a lot of pain all the time and the more it hurts to smile, the more I think it's not going to go away.
I'm too good at wanting, but I'm never gonna be what I want and I'm never gonna be the thing someone else wants.
I wish I had the guts not to be anymore.