The dream you don't want to end

I keep having these dreams about walking outside in a t-shirt. The air is balmy and pleasant and as I walk down the street all the trees unfold their leaves and flowers against the big blue bowl of sunlight overhead. That's about all there is to the dream. It's very simple... but waking up from it SUCKS.

I made my mom go see Avatar last night. I would watch that movie every day for the rest of my life. I don't care if the plot is predictable (and really, there ARE twists and turns that you wouldn't expect; I was shocked the first time I saw it when the sky people took out Hometree because I thought for sure the "good guys" would win).

But the thing that starts me drooling is that giant green phosphorescent jungle, with that huge planet all lit up in the sky behind it. It's impossible. Impossible. But you believe it in the movie, and I wish I could believe in it for real. And those bizarre pterodactyl creatures they ride, and the floating mountains (without valleys, I might add; yes Descartes, a mountain CAN be conceived without one).

Look, I'm already halfway to being a Na'vi. I've got the height and the tree-hugging thing down. Now I just need to make my skin turn blue (easily remedied by drowning) and make my soul grow out of my hair (I'm not sure about that one yet but Brian Glenney might be able to help me).




The CGI is only half the reason this world is extraordinary. The other half is the culture. It's so beautiful and intricate. To think that sprang from somebody's imagination! Do I have a world like that tucked away in my mind? I can only hope that as I continue to craft Myriad, it will grow into something this complex and significant. Something a reader will believe and invest in.

The first time I saw Avatar, my friend Shark was with us, and as soon as the credits rolled she said, "Did you get it, guys? Or do we need to watch it again?" I honestly didn't realize she meant the environmental message. Sure, it's obvious, but what knocked me off my feet was the redemptive message. The movie ends with Jake Sully being reborn. I mean, how Christian is that? To use Christianese, think of it this way: he willingly chooses to die to his old self - a weak and broken body - and is born a second time ("without entering his mother's womb again") into a new and perfect body. How Christian is that? Who puts that in a movie these days? I'm actually...... inspired.

What movie moves you like that? What world would you live in if you got the chance? What movie is the dream you wish you never had to wake up from?

Excavations of Claymore: The Ginger's Choice

...and what a choice! It's like "to be, or not to be" all over again... or the question of whether God exists, which I spent the better part of my day debating for a philosophy paper. Sorry Claymore, but I'm having trouble making yet another existential choice today.



My string of reactions went a little like this:

"I'm skeptical."
"Wow! I never thought cinnamon and chocolate could go together!"
"Hmm... on second thought, maybe they don't."
"Actually this is really growing on me. I think I like it."
"Ehh, I dunno... this is weird and kind of gross."
"No, you know what, this is one of the best things I've ever gotten from Claymore."

I exaggerate not; all those emotional flip-flops really happened. The Ginger's Choice is truly a conundrum; it's a different experience with every sip.

But in the end, it's just another coffee drink. I give it two out of five stars. You can't even really taste the chocolate OR the cinnamon, or the hazelnut for that matter. You can sense that something is slightly askew, but you're not even sure whether "askew" is a good or bad thing. It seems to change from taste to taste.

If being a ginger is this confusing, I think I'll stay a brunette.

------------------------------

So, about that scene I promised earlier this week - ah, it hasn't been workshopped yet. Our class was cancelled on Tuesday and we didn't get around to critiquing mine today. I do have an older scene I might post later this weekend, but I was in the mood for coffee tonight so what you got for now is a Claymore review.

Actually, it's kind of a funny story about tonight. I went in there to get the Ginger's Choice, which I tried a couple weeks ago when Spaz came to visit but never formally reviewed. But the little card was gone! So I requested the drink, explaining that I was going to review it on my blog. The bar-dude goes "Oh! Are you A Silvertongued Serenade?"

"Uh... yeah," I said. "How do you.....?"

Apparently the night I gave Laura a link to my blog, she left it in Claymore and this guy picked it up and actually followed the link here.

Seriously? People I don't even know read this thing? What a great advertising strategy! I should start dropping links to my blog everywhere! WORLD DOMINATION IS WITHIN MY GRASP, MUAHAHAHAHA!

.....umm, yeah. With that I bid you adieu.

Peace, love, and ghetto basement coffee,
Miss Rex

Fame! (Doodlybop)

SO MANY GREAT THINGS ARE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. I don't even know what to do. Maybe like, dance party plus eat cookies times hug people squared....

Saturday was Adam Ezra Group's CD (re)release party at the Paradise. As I mentioned before, I got to chat it up with Adam freakin' Ezra last week, as I was hyping the party in this article I was writing for my journalism internship.

Said article is now on BOSTON.COM!!! This is.... (I'm searching for an adjective that could possibly encompass my excitement)... Radical! Stellar! Fan-freakin'-tabulous!!! Yes, the plethora of exclamation points is NECESSARY!!!!!

Ahem. So, that's the big news.

The party was great fun! I was one of the first people in because I'm a groupie like that because I seriously overestimated how long I would be lost in the labyrinthine, unlabeled streets of Boston even with my new GPS. Said hello to Turtle and Robin Vincent on my way in. Claimed the best spot in the house - front and dead center, leaning on the speakers - and waited that last agonizing hour between doors and showtime.

The first band was called Girls Guns and Glory. They're the sort of band that are a lot of fun live but not really something I'd listen to in my car, or anywhere else. Too western-sounding. But there was a guy with an accordion, which rocked, and the bassist had this weird upright bass with no body, just all neck. And of course, I was close enough to reach out and play the lead singer's guitar if I'd wanted to, but I'm not into the whole interfering-with-the-show bit.

But some people are into that sort of thing. This one young lady clambered over all of us in the front row and started dancing on stage. ("I thought this place used to have security," said the woman next to me. Yeah, I thought so too.) The band just kept playing; I don't think there was much else they could do. Then the song ended and Very Drunk Dancing Girl gave them all kisses and hopped off the stage. Good gravy. People.

Then it was Adam Ezra Group's turn to play. I've never seen people so jazzed about them, yelling and singing and dancing like that - I mean, it was more upbeat than the last Relient K show I saw! Somehow that just shouldn't happen. Even I, who had spent two and a half days with my face buried in a tissue, was singing my heart out. In fact, I might even credit this show with curing me. Anyway it cured, or at least boosted, my rather drab outlook on life. AND, Adam bent down away from the mic mid-song to tell me, "Great article!"

It's hard NOT to be inspired when a band you love decides to share the spotlight on their big night and give all the money they make to Haiti relief efforts. They passed around the Love Bucket (a.k.a. a re-labeled recycling bin) and people filled it with even MORE money, after they had already donated just by buying a ticket. Adam dumped it all out on stage and they played the rest of the show wading through a sea of cash. I was devastated that I hadn't brought my camera. You'll just have to use your imagination.

But it would have been inspiring even minus the Haiti angle and minus the "great article" comment. Adam is one of those people, like Jon Foreman, that can make things seem better just by being in the same room. I don't get how people can do that. Granted, he was pretty giddy himself; Aerosmith's bassist came out and played a song with them, and Adam's only looked up to the guy for like, his entire life.

Then Very Drunk Dancing Girl returned for an encore (I couldn't believe they hadn't made her leave). This time she brought a friend. Security actually showed up and tried to get them to leave, but the friend wouldn't go until she'd told Turtle "I love you!" and kissed Adam on the cheek. God. No shame.

We all had a great time being rowdy and obnoxious during the new song, "Scandal," but I think the most fun was when everyone from both bands came out on stage for Bob Dylan's "Wagon Wheel." It was one of those bighappyfamily moments, with everyone on stage and the whole crowd singing and dancing along. That's why AEG is different from other bands. Other band have fans; AEG has a family. Aww cute.

Well that's all for now; stay tuned since I've got a new scene to post after tomorrow's playwright's workshop!

Peace, love, and FAME!
~ Miss Rex

A tale of two homecomings

Sorry for the lengthy absence, my friends. I've been really down on myself this month and not into the whole going-back-to-school-AGAIN deal, which makes a poor catalyst for writing. Or anything else, for that matter. Lucky for the blogging world, I'm in an incredible mood today in spite of many stupid inconveniences (parking lot clearings, fire drill, bad head cold, fish poop). So it's update time!

I have my four favorite professors this semester and I actually care about all the subjects I'm taking. This may be surprising since I was in my mother's room sobbing about the prospect of taking classes just last week, but the more I get into the rhythm the better my outlook becomes. Being here really is like being home in a way. Some part of me belongs here.

Reasons this semester will/already does kick ass: I'm finally going to read the classics, or at least a few of them, in western lit (but so far all we've done is Gilgamesh and Genesis - ick). My internship afforded me the chance to talk to Adam Ezra at length last week (Wanda was thrilled when she found out I actually got his phone number after she made me promise to). I'm taking philosophy for kicks and giggles (I know that sounds insane, but Brian Glenney is teaching it).

And then.....

Then there's playwriting.

I've only had one other class with Mark, the prof (I love how all my favorite profs refuse to be called by their last names), and I already like this one better, even though I was way nervous to be trying my hand at a new genre. I'm a novelist, not a playwright. I haven't written a play since like fifth grade when my best friend and I tried to write a Pokemon fan-fic saga for the theater.

That being said, as far as novels go, dialogue has always been my strength. It comes naturally. So this class is filled with the most fun part of writing! Yet I'm already learning so much about other elements of storytelling. That's what I love about writing classes: What you're learning tends to inform every other kind of writing you'll do.

So short story long, I'm having so much fun with my playwriting exercises that I want to post them here. For fun (and because The Pantsless One yelled at me yesterday for not blogging). This exercise is called "Unspoken Word." The idea is to convey a specific word through dialogue and actions but not state it outright. So without further ado, I give you The Homecoming.

POLLY (15, dressed stylishly, wearing Ugg boots; arms are crossed and she takes an irritated tone) and her MOTHER (late forties, looks like she hasn’t slept much) are in the pantry. MOTHER is staring at shelves of canned vegetables.

POLLY: Don’t ask me. I hate both.
MOTHER: (Pleasantly as she reaches for a can of peppers) You like the chili.
POLLY: No, Derek likes the chili. Just because Derek likes something doesn’t mean everybody does.
MOTHER: (Reaches instead for a can of corn) Well then I’ll make him the shepherd’s pie. He always liked that.
POLLY: Mmk. Whatevs.
MOTHER: (Raises voice) You know, Polly, you’re being a real brat. Derek’s been away for six months. Thank God we can have dinner with him at all… (trails off)
(POLLY glares at MOTHER, then drops her eyes but doesn’t argue back.)
MOTHER: I know things will be different when he moves back in, but try to be sympathetic, okay?
POLLY: Because I’m sure that’s what he wants, Mom. People feeling bad for him.
MOTHER: Don’t antagonize him, Polly. Don’t ask questions about the… place… or what he did, or why. Okay? Until things go back to normal, Derek gets treated like a prince.
POLLY: (mutters) Doesn’t he always?
MOTHER: That’s enough! Go upstairs and make sure all your razors and little pointy manicure things are out of the bathroom before he gets here.
POLLY: I already did.
MOTHER: (Sighs and rubs eyeballs hard) Just… try to be helpful, okay?
POLLY: (Softly) I’m making him Boston crème pie. From scratch.
(POLLY starts to cry)
POLLY: (Sobbing) Mom… what if he does it again?

Can you guess the unspoken word...?

525,600 minutes

Resolutions:

From 2009:
1. "Sleep when you’re dead." And save Facebook for later, too.
2. Suffer for my art… and finish the first draft of “Before the Empty Moon.”
3. Get the female equivalent of balls to tell people what I’m really thinking.
4. Be able to support my sponsored child AND my concert addiction.
5. Take a road trip.
6. Play a show.
7. Meet William Beckett.

Well, two out of seven ain't bad....

Oh, who am I kidding? That's utterly shameful. I must make a greater effort this year/set more attainable goals. Ones that I can control a little more than meeting Mr. Tall-and-sexy Beckett. But then what does one resolve? Most people resolve to stop being lazy and go to the gym, but I already do that. Or they resolve to stop eating so much crap and lose weight. I guess I could use a little work on the not eating crap bit; maybe actually being a vegetarian would be a good resolution.

But those things are all restrictions. Wouldn't resolving to accomplish something be a more positive use of my efforts?

Yes. Yes it would. But I can't resolve to finish my book; with school in the way, that will never happen. So I've gone back to my Bucket List for inspiration and chosen a few items that would be manageable this year even with school throwing a wrench in everything.

1. Read. For my own enjoyment.
2. Learn the constellations.
3. Write at least once a week! And it must be something substantial; Claymore reviews and Scatterday posts don't count anymore! They're just a lazy way of saying I've produced something, but it's not exactly productive if it's not something you'll show off to publishers or employers. I love this blog, and I love you all, but I must confess that it has not been the writing "workout" I intended it to be. I'm getting writer's flab.
4. Do something that scares me.
5. Pray.

And now, a few life lessons from the past 525,600 minutes! I've changed a ton this year, and a lot of it isn't stuff I can articulate or it's too specific to be universalized as "life lessons." I've learned about relationships, religion, and just... life in general. But anyway, here is my attempt.

On relationships:

1. Long distance relationships suck. For EVERYONE, including people who aren't actually part of the relationship. Even close-by-long-distance relationships are tough.

2. Boys (and jobs) are better when you can enjoy the benefits of more than one at a time, or at least it seems that way when finally set free from a long relationship you sort of grew to hate in its dying months. (Oh, and having multiple jobs is always a good idea if you're addicted to concerts ^_^)

3. I have a magnet on my fridge that says this, and for two years I have blatantly laughed at it. Clearly, I said, this statement was engineered by some horny teenager looking for excuses to get some. "Lies from the pit of hell," I said (or something to that effect).

I'm not saying spooning necessarily leads to forking. It does not, and (in my experience) has not. But it absolutely can. Easily.

All I'm saying is, if you don't want to use your cutlery, keep it separate.

4. It’s something special to feel like you’re a better human being when you’re around a certain person, but it’s really exceptional to act like one for that person in his or her absence.

On life in general:

1. "People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen to you in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television — you don’t feel anything." — Andy Warhol

2. I CAN dance without arrows! The key, if you are as challenged as I thought I was, is confidence. If you look comfortable, like you know what you're doing, people will just assume you DO know what you're doing. Don't try too hard. Dancing is a natural movement of the body.

If you're worried, bring glow sticks.

3. You can drink irresponsibly responsibly (at least this is what Auntie Debbie and I agreed upon). If you PLAN on getting trashed, fine, whatever; you should also PLAN to give someone who won't be drinking your keys and PLAN to stay put until you're not trashed. I don't understand why this is hard to understand for some people.

4. A home is a gift from God, and like any gift it is meant to be shared.

5. Stop making promises! It's way too hard to keep them unless you really mean them, and when you break your word, you cheapen it. Have your word be the highest insurance of your intentions.

On religion:

Religion sucks. I've always had a problem being associated with a denomination, but I think that was mostly my hatred of labels. It's a bit more personal now.

People say the word "Christian" with such disdain, and you just know: they think you're delusional, stupid, simple or misguided, they think you're judgmental, they don't want to trust you and they expect to be rejected by you. That is the opposite of what a Christian is supposed to be, according to the Bible. If this is what people are going to think about me when they hear I'm a Christian then count me out.

God isn't about rules and rituals. He doesn't live inside of a church or chapel. He doesn't want a bunch of lemmings trailing after him unthinkingly or he wouldn't have given us brains. I think it necessarily comes down to who God is to you, because who can be right? Who has the right to say they know what's going on and everybody else in the world is wrong? It's sheer arrogance and creates conflict. I'm not saying everybody's right and anything goes, but I sure as hell can't tell you which ones are wrong.

Maybe everyone is a little bit right. Maybe we're all dead wrong. I for one cannot look at the world and think it all just fell into place. For me there had to be someone there first, and the fact that he's here and I'm here means I owe him some allegiance. What kind and to what extent I'm still figuring out. I don't know how, or if, I should talk to him. I don't know if I should trust the Bible (or any other text for that matter). I don't know if it's fair for me to ask things of him since I'm not doing much for him on my end.

All I know is this: Love. Drawing lines between people, when we all comprise the same essence, is destructive. It's not love. Killing someone in the name of Jesus Christ or Allah or anybody else disregards the sanctity of life. It's a failure to love. Turning away gay people or looking down on different races or saying that someone raised in a culture that practices, say, Buddhism or animism is unwelcome at your church - those are failures to love. We have failed. And we fail and fail again. We have got to love each other or we'll never make it. What else is there to live for but love?

This is beginning to sound like godly anarchy, which I'm not even sure is possible... but it sounds nice.

At first I was disoriented, scared and upset that my adolescent faith was disappearing, but I've come to see that faith must be dynamic. It's too easy otherwise. Too formulaic. If it’s static, it’s stunted; it’s a small child that won’t grow up. It’s fearful. It’s a sapling with but one trunk, one branch, one direction. So much potential, so little purpose; it’s trimmed back time and again when what it needs is to grow, to change, to branch out into a million different places and hope that, maybe, one of those million places will touch the sky, and even if they don't....

They reached for it with every power in their grasp.

Happy New Year.
Miss Rex