See you next year, October

Happy Halloween, blog-lovers! Here's hoping you all got some decent candy haul this year or at least got to hit up a party or two. I did neither, but no matter--at least I got to show off my costume on my new college campus all day today:

(Photo courtesy of Oakland University)

Yes, I went as Stuttgart!Loki. (Only because there was no way in hell I was going to be able to make his armor in time--that scarf was hard enough!) And no, I don't know what the hell I was trying to accomplish with that pose. Looking cool, I guess. Anyway, I got to interact with some fun characters including but not limited to Deadpool, Slenderman, Freddy Krueger, Raven from Teen Titans, a belly dancer, a couple of zombies, the Hulk, and the Woman in Black. Whew! But that's not all--I also got some peanut butter candy and some Skittles (yum!) and had the privilege of watching Blackfish while waiting for my scriptwriting workshop to start. Fun stuff, right? Nothing says Halloween like the marine mammal captivity debate!

But enough about Halloween. (Though I will say one more thing: I hope everyone was safe. Really. The amount of people doing stupid stuff on holidays seems to get higher every year.) On to what happened before Halloween this month that seriously made my life: my mom's birthday and my first time doing production stills in FOREVER!

For my mom's birthday the weekend before Halloween, we went to an apple orchard, a longstanding family bonding activity for us, and had a mini-party, just the three of us. Because a lot of our birthday celebrations in this family usually take place in early morning (think Christmas morning, but without the snow...usually), there were too many pajama-pictures for me to include many pictures of us...but you can get the idea of our celebrations anyway:

Another big milestone last week? My first set since last October wherein I had an actual job. I took production stills for the OU Filmmakers Guild's Production Thursday shoot. Basically with Production Thursdays, we all get together and shoot a film in a couple of hours or less. Since I'm usually in class on Thursday evenings I haven't gotten to do much of this yet...but this time I decided it was time to take on some responsibility. And so I whipped out my baby (yes, my CAMERA, get your brains out of fantasyland) and took some shots. And let me tell you, it felt damn good to have a job (okay, a self-insert job, but still) on a set again.

Yeah...when I think about it, October was a pretty good month. :)

Now if I can just make it to my 21st birthday without major catastrophe...that would be great...

Zombies are sooo not underground

Heh. Heh. See what I did there? :P

I love Halloween movies - but let's be real, as timeless as Hocus Pocus might be, there are other movies out there that capture the Halloween spirit with a more subtle touch, and I'm telling you, there are some real classics out there that people are passing up in favor of Halloween, Casper, The Exorcist, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and Disney's Halloweentown series...why not mix it up a bit? Especially if you're not really into the horror scene - never fear, there's definitely a way to get into a spooky mood without totally scaring the pants off of yourself. Here's a few of my faves:

Labyrinth (1986, dir. Jim Henson)

Love, love, love this movie. The puppet goblins are cute (yes, cute, they are literally muppets) and David Bowie is as creepy as he is hilarious. Yes, it's a musical, and yes, it's cheesy, but it's fun. The Goblin King is underdeveloped, to be sure, but the other characters, particularly Sarah and Hoggle, are as interesting and well-rounded as it gets in an 80's kids' movie. It's fun, it's Halloweeny, and it won't keep you up at night. Good combination? I think so.

Young Frankenstein (1974, dir. Mel Brooks)

Your life will not be complete until you see this film, and I'm not exaggerating. This film manages to take the tropes of B-movie horror and turn them on their heads--and stay truer to the original Frankenstein than any other film I've seen. Gene Wilder is hilarious as ever, and Peter Boyle turns the Creature into a slapstick hero worthy of Charlie Haplin. This one doesn't rate high on the spook-o-meter, to be sure...but you can't get much more Halloween-friendly than Frankenstein. And besides...it's a classic. Seriously, if you haven't seen it you're missing out. Go watch it. Now. And for the bonus round, tack on High Anxiety for a dose of Hitchcock satire approved by the big man himself.

And speaking of which...

Psycho (1960, dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

Admit it, you knew at least one Hitchcock film would have to be on this list. Nothing screams Halloween like a black-and-white horror film, and this one is the granddaddy of them all. If Psycho doesn't at least make you jump, then you've got nerves of steel. Hailed as the start of the "slasher" genre, this is one of Hitchcock's finest. Just remember that if you haven't seen it before, you have to see it from the start. Preferably on the biggest possible screen. At night. Alone (or with one other person) in a dark room. And be sure to have popcorn, so you can have something to spill on yourself when you jump ten feet.

Frankenweenie (1984, dir. Tim Burton)

No, not the stop-motion feature--the original black-and-white live-action short, starring the unbeatable Shelley Duvall. True, it is a short--just a half-hour--but it's quirky, vibrant, and yes, definitely suspenseful enough to satisfy. Back before the days of an over-casted Johnny Depp and enough cheese and too-saturated color to sicken the most die-hard Tim Burton fan, this is a short, sweet little movie that puts another lovely spin on the classic Frankenstein.

Pushing Daisies (2007-2009, created by Bryan Fuller)

In the vein of Sleepy Hollow, this is a lovely little series that so deserved a longer run than it had. Ned has the power to bring the dead back--but with a myriad of caveats. What makes this one so delightfully Halloweeny isn't Ned's creepy power alone, but the colorful sets, even more colorful characters, spooky situations, high-stakes chases, and deeply probing ethical conundrums. If that's not enough to hook you into watching, how about the fact that it's Lee Pace playing Ned, accompanied by the beautiful Anna Friel as his quirky sweetheart Chuck, and the ever-hilarious Kristen Chenoweth as his pie-shop partner Olive Snook?

Rear Window (1954, dir. Alfred Hitchcock)
In the mood to feel stalked? This film will certainly do the trick. Pair the overall creepy murder mystery with a knockout Grace Kelly and Hitchcock's killer mise-en-scene, and you've got something much, much spookier than The Birds. Take my word for it, this might not be one of Hitchcock's "famous horror" films, but it's more suspenseful than anything Wes Craven could cook up. The tension is high, the stakes are higher, and the overall effect equates to a vicarious adrenaline rush.

A Clockwork Orange (1971, dir. Stanley Kubrick)
Okay, okay. I know you're all thinking "Oh jeez, now she's just pushing her favorite movies on us..." Hear me out. This isn't Kubricks most famous "Halloween" film (that honor would have to go to The Shining), but it's intense and has a wide appeal. Huge cinema geek? The production elements, direction, and acting are fantastic. Love the violence of slasher films? This film's got violence to satisfy all but the most hardcore Saw fans. Romance? Well, okay, it doesn't really have that. But there's suspense, and murder, and drama, and a good dose of sci-fi creepiness...and what more could you ask for on a cool, windy fall night?

Ghost (1996, dir. Stan Winston)
Okay, who loves Thriller? Everyone? (Okay, almost everyone?) To everyone else who was totally wowed by their first viewing of Michael Jackson's classic creep-fest, trust me, you ain't seen nothing yet--Ghost is a 40-minute epic that makes Thriller look like a sneak preview. Co-written by the King of Horror himself (Stephen King, for anyone who doesn't know), this haunting music video starring Michael as the Maestro features tons of jump scares, plenty of special effects, and enough dance breaks to satisfy the most die-hard MJ fan. And if that's not enough to convince my fellow film nerds, how about the set itself, which looks like a Tim Burton film gone classy? (Yes, it exists, I promise.) If nothing else, look at it for Halloween costume inspiration, because the costumes of his backup dancers in this one? They make the costumes in Thriller look garish and amateurish by comparison. Seriously. Go see for yourself.

Plan 9 From Outer Space (1959, dir. Ed Wood)
Remember the epic little montage at the end of Ed Wood, when Ed's premiering his film and says, "This is it, this is the one I'll be remembered for?" Yep, this is that film. And congrats, Mr. Wood, you get your wish. 'Cause when I hear someone say "Ed Wood," I don't think Tim Burton--I think Plan 9. It's the ultimate B-movie, the B-movie to which all other B-movies aspire. This film literally makes my student-directed shorts look like masterpieces. And that is why people love it so much. The effects. The acting--oh dear God, the acting. The repeat clips of Bela Lugosi doing nothing but floofing out his cape. No really. It's amazing. For all the wrong reasons. And if this doesn't get you in the (fun, not scary) Halloween mood I don't know what will.

Beetle Juice (1988, dir. Tim Burton)
Yes, another Burton one...and let's be real, this one's a bona fide classic. It's cheesy as all get out, ridiculous to the extreme, and filled with plenty of ghosty goodness...and the deadpan ball of cute that is Winona Ryder doesn't hurt. The special effects seem dated out of context, but they're still hilarious and, yes, there are some "jump" moments, and a few semi-cute scares. Also the bonus gift of seeing Alec Baldwin get the crap kicked out of him, metaphorically speaking. (Of course if you are an Alec Baldwin fan, there's the added bonus of seeing him play a loving husband...?)


And then there's the classics you just can't skip no matter how many times you've seen them: It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!, Corpse Bride, Twitches, Ghostbusters, The Addams Family and Addams Family Values, Harry Potter, and of course, the perennial classic, Hocus Pocus. Movies must be accompanied by popcorn, preferably of the cheesy variety, and pounds and pounds of candy (for bonus points, throw in candy corn). Happy Halloween! :)

The Eye of the Beholder

I am changing.

My clothes sit looser on my body. Already I have filled multiple bags with all of the clothes I no longer wear. At least ten pairs of pants are too big, slipping down my hips without a belt to hold them up. My breasts no longer fill out my dresses. My shirtsleeves slip too comfortably up and down my thinner arms. Clothes bought in August, size 18/20, are rapidly becoming too big. Soon, I will no longer have to make sure a store carries "plus" sizes before I go to shop there. Even now I am no longer afraid to enter a dressing room.

When I Skype my friends, I no longer have to prop the computer on three books (if I'm at a desk) or pillows (if I'm on my bed) to ensure that my double chin doesn't show. I no longer fear the lower half of my face. Looking down is no longer a carefully-planned maneuver. I can smile in photos without worrying that my chin will take over my face. I can have photos of myself now. I don't insist on deleting or untagging every candid photo of myself. And when the camera comes out I smile. A lot. I don't fear that my smile or laugh makes my entire face look ugly.

I put my hair up now. I put it up and leave it up all day. I twist it up into a knot and tie it with an elastic and let bits of hair escape without worrying about frizz. If my hair doesn't look right (which happens frequently), a hair elastic or hat is my new best friend. I don't leave it down to detract attention from my face.

Makeup is a fashion statement now. I wear it as an experiment. Will anyone notice that I've started wearing eyeliner? What does my lipstick say about my mood today? Does my eyeshadow match my shirt? Should it? I do character-inspired makeup. Black liner and green eyeshadow for Loki; gold and tan shadow and brown eyeliner for C-3PO. (Yes, I'm aware, and proud, of my status as an Epic Nerd.) Putting on concealer and powder is the boring part now. Now makeup is a way of expression, not a means of hiding my face.

When I exercise I don't wear makeup at all. I put up my hair (still not quite long enough for just a ponytail, but I do what I can), put on my stretchiest pants and go for it. I feel empowered, not tortured, jogging on a treadmill. My endurance is improving, soon I will be able to jog two full minutes without stopping. I can do a high kick, a sit-up, a reverse sit-up, half push-ups, downward dog, fifteen jumping-jacks without stopping. I can dance for a full three-minute song without stopping to get my breath back. Each minor accomplishment is a victory in itself. The words "Dad, did you see that?" escape my mouth at least three or four times a session. I feel stronger, less vulnerable, less useless, after every workout.

I pray every night, asking for God's help in overcoming any resistance that comes my way. I will stomp it down, crash through the walls, dive into the problems headfirst and confront the monsters that try to bully me into submission. I have the power of "ten million flaming suns and believe in a Strength that can raise the dead." There is no reason why I can't overcome anything and anyone that tries to stop me or hurt me.

I am changing. I am beginning to feel beautiful again. I am not invincible. I am human. And I am, for once, truly happy to be who I am.

Don't just "think" pink

Anyone who knows me knows that I can get pretty excited over causes that I care about, especially things like my favorite October-based cause, Red Ribbon Week. And though I haven't been as overzealous about it as I was my senior year of high school, when I wore a red hair ribbon every day for a month (yes, I really did), it's still important to me, and I definitely plan to support it this year. Well, here it is, and it's October, but...RRW is not until the end of the month. And right now I've got a different-color ribbon to talk about.

Anybody see those breast cancer "awareness" statuses yet this year? So far I haven't, but it's only day one, I'll give it time. Every October I see it--those little statuses about shoe size, going out of town for X number of months, what's in your purse...and I have to admit I get progressively more frustrated. Because here's the thing: yes, it's fun to have an inside joke with your girls, but what does it really do? How does a cute inside joke raise awareness about breast cancer?

I know people who have survived breast cancer. I have been lucky enough not to lose anyone to it, but I do have plenty of friends who have lost a family member or close friend. And I want to raise awareness for it just as much as the next person...I just don't see the benefit of posting a cryptic message that only your participating female friends would understand. Sure it's funny to "confuse the boys," but doesn't everyone need to know that this is a thing? What about the fathers, brothers, husbands, boyfriends, and colleagues of the at-risk women...don't you want them to be in-the-know too? To say nothing of the women who are outside or don't happen to participate in or understand the statuses, isn't there a better way to reach out to them too?

My solution: donate money, buy a pin or other product if the proceeds go towards the cause, and if you really really want to get Facebook involved, post a status about the facts or a link to the official websites. It's more effective; it can get a better dialogue going than a bunch of ":)" or "huh?" on a joke status. But don't stop there--if you really want to get people's attention (and this is going to make a lot of people roll their eyes, I apologize in advance) make something. A short film. A photo shoot. A drawing, painting, or graphic design. Write a poem, a short story, a song, a script. You see where I'm going with this, right?

At Interlochen, if we wanted to get someone's attention, art was how we reached out, whether it was through visual or performance (I would just love to stop here and tell you about the Art Moved banner...but that's a topic for another post), and most of the time, we got a pretty big reaction out of people because of it. So yes, I do care about Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I do want to help. But I want to get creative with it, and I would love, really love, if other people got creative too.

Just remember you'll never stand out if your chief goal is to be one of the crowd. (I can't remember where I read/heard that. But I like it.)

Warning: selfish rant

The next person to say "I know it's hard, but..." will get smacked in the face. Hard.

No, you don't know it's hard. If you really knew it was hard, you wouldn't be saying "but." And you sure as hell wouldn't be following it up with "you know, other people really have it worse than you."

Thank you, Captain Obvious! Obviously I'm well aware that I don't have it as bad as some people, but guess what? That does not make it hurt less. And when you say that--"I know it's hard, but other people have it worse than you"--what you are saying is, "Your feelings are unimportant. Stop whining. There are military wives who would kill to be in your long-distance relationship right now." Well, you know what, I am not a military wife, and I don't really care how hard they have it vs. how hard I have it. That is not the heart of the matter.

The heart of the matter for me is that I love someone who I have not seen, touched, or held in seven weeks, and the way things are going now, it will be another eight before I see them again. But hey, who cares, right? There are other people worse off, so I should just shut up and be grateful I even have a fiancee, right? Hey, there are starving Armenians who would love that piece of burned toast, stop whining and eat it.

This needs to stop right freaking now because I don't care how politically incorrect it is, it is not okay to ever tell someone that their pain doesn't matter because some hypothetical faceless person they have never met is hurting worse than they are.

And if one of my friends were to come crying to me about how their significant other enlisted in the military and wouldn't come home for two years, I would not go to them for comfort about my long-distance hell. Okay? Let's just get that straight right now. But I also sure as all fucking hell would not say to them, "Oh, stop crying. There are women who will never see their husband again. You just need to be patient. It'll all be worth it in the end."

Do you see what I am trying to say here?

Do the world a favor. Don't ever, ever, ever pull the "someone else has it worse" card. Because if someone comes to you desperate for comfort, if someone comes to you badly in need of a shoulder to cry on, if someone comes to you feeling like the entire world is against them, you know what? It doesn't help. It hurts even worse.

SO DON'T. FUCKING. DO IT. EVER. PERIOD. END OF STORY. GOODBYE.

Fall TV round-up

I'm not much into TV. There are a few shows that I've stuck with, but for the most part I get bored easily or I just plain don't have the time to watch every episode, much as I'd like to. But there are some good ones coming back, and just starting out, this fall. And I'll admit it, I'm a total sucker for fresh material...especially when it involves superheroes, urban legends, murder mysteries, hipster fashion, show choir drama, and resurrected witches. (No, the last one is not a joke. The hipster fashion, however, is theoretically ironic.)

So this won't cover all the new shows and returns this fall, and no, I won't cover Breaking Bad--I'm still not caught up on all the previous seasons, which makes it a little strange for me to watch the new one--but if you're interested in any of the keywords I mentioned above, read on.

Sleepy Hollow (New)
What it's about: Colonial-era Ichabod Crane kills the horseman of death on a battlefield, gets whacked himself, and wakes up at the same time as his now-headless nemesis in 2013 New York, where he spends half his time hunting monsters and the other half convincing his new partner-in-crime, Lt. Abbie Mills of the Sleepy Hollow police force, that no, he is not insane, he's just a time-traveler.
Check it out if you like: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Criminal Minds, Sherlock, The X-Files, Pushing Daisies...basically if you love mystery/crime/fantasy shows and/or like to have the pants scared off of you.
Why you should watch it: Because you like to have the pants scared off of you--and after just two episodes I can confirm that it will, indeed, scare your pants off. This show isn't for the faint-hearted--especially the second episode, which has so many creepy undead ghouls running around that the Addams Family might mistake it for a family reunion home video. If comedy's more your thing than horror, there's plenty of that too. The man-out-of-time trope is played to a T, so much so that the characters reference it themselves--at one point, Abbie's boss refers to Ichabod Crane as "Captain America"--and may I add here, it's a blast watching Ichabod adjust to modern life?
Warnings: If you're looking for a Tim Burton tribute, look elsewhere. The styling of the show is more Sherlock than Corpse Bride. It's fairly well-done in terms of cinematography, costuming, and other production values, but it's no Breaking Bad--the story gets patchy in places. And did I mention it scares the pants off of you?

Pretty Little Liars (Returning in October, 4th season)
What it's about: Aria, Spencer, Emily, and Hanna (and since the first half of this season, Mona) have been repeatedly stalked and tormented since their friend Alison disappeared and was later found dead. "A," later revealed to be a team rather than a person, hasn't cut them a break, and his/her/their tricks have been getting progressively more daring...until the girls discover that their former friend may be alive, and then, as always, all hell breaks loose.
Check it out if you like: Buffy, Gilmore Girls, Breaking Bad, Criminal Minds, Veronica Mars, any shows with a strong female lead or strong element of mystery/crime.
Why you should watch it: Don't be fooled by the precedented "fluffiness" of most teen-oriented, girl-oriented TV shows, or the faux drama of most ABC Family originals...this one packs a punch. The Liars are well-rounded, fully-developed characters with interests, fears, and goals well outside the realm of romance. The cast is diverse. The story is strong. The plot has more twists than any Cedar Point roller coaster. I cited Breaking Bad as a "sister show" not because of the plot elements--I assure you, no one cooks meth in this show, so far at least--but because both shows have the same level of layering and the same high-stakes, high-emotions type of situation. Don't believe me? In the first half of this season, one of the girls had to keep her mother out of jail on murder charges while another was almost sawed in half by a buzz saw.
Warnings: All right, this one won't scare the pants off of you...but it might make you paranoid, not gonna lie. Also if the lack of romantic subplot is what drives you to shows like Criminal Minds, this probably will not be your cup of tea...but if you're on the fence, don't be afraid to give it an episode or two to hook you in.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (New)
What it's about: If you liked The Avengers, get ready to have your world rocked: Agent Phil Coulson is back, and more bad-ass than ever. He runs an operation revolving around new superheroes--and new threats--assisted by the pretty (and pretty damn smart) hacker Skye and broody, handsome Agent Ward.
Check it out if you like: The Avengers, pretty much anything by Marvel or Joss Whedon.
Why you should watch it: BECAUSE IT'S JOSS BLOODY WHEDON THAT'S WHY. Oh wait, you need more reason...okay. It's because, much like Pretty Little Liars and Sleepy Hollow, the show manages to feature strong, smart female characters without delivering Strong Female Characters or falling into the "man-hating cynical butt-kicking chick" trope--a.k.a. the hallmark of a classic Joss Whedon show, along with his usual trick of making the characters utterly self-aware of the ridiculousness of their situation. ("What does the title of this organization mean to you?" "Someone really wanted the initials to spell 'shield.'") Don't be thrown by lack of Avengers--the sass, excitement, and character development is alive and well even in the non-superheroes.
Warnings: If you don't like action, if straight drama or "realistic" drama is more your thing, or if you're bothered by explosions, this probably isn't the best choice. And don't expect Loki to pop up after the trouble starts, you'll be disappointed. (I know I was.)

Glee (Returning tonight, fifth season)
What it's about: Even if you've never watched an episode in your life, I'm going to assume that you probably know that this is about a bunch of high school/college students who...you guessed it...participate in glee club.
Check it out if you like: Any of the previous seasons. (Really, though--this show kind of has a cult-esque following. If you love it, you love it. If you hate it, you hate it. I really don't have much to compare it to.)
Why you should watch it: Really, you shouldn't. It's not the best show on the network (to say the least) and if you don't like Top 40 or show choir/musical theater, you'll be screaming at the musical numbers within the first five minutes. But there's something about this show that I just love, there's something about it that just draws me in...I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's that I can see myself in some (but thankfully, not all) of the characters. Yeah, the characterization changes week-by-week and no one is ever consistent for more than three episodes (if that) in a row, but it employs some of the same self-aware humor as Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and it's funny as hell, especially when you sit there and pick apart all the dumb-ass continuity errors...but I guess that's an occupational hazard of having three creators/writers.
Warnings: Terrible but addictive. Watch at the risk of loving it.



And if my brief list of fall comebacks and premieres wasn't enough for you, here's my top ten list of Netflix's Best:

1. Sherlock (First 2 seasons)
The unstoppable duo of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman make this show worth watching...but it's the dynamic between them and the rest of the cast that makes it addictive. Hands-down the best Sherlock adaptation I have ever seen. Be warned: the third season still hasn't come out.

2. Monk (Complete series)
An OCD detective solves crimes using his finely-honed observation skills. If this show doesn't make you laugh, I'm not sure we can be friends. (And if it doesn't make you cry, you're probably a Dalek, in which case why the hell are you watching human TV shows?)

3. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Complete series)
Joss Whedon loves writing about complete and total BAMFs with an unbeatable sense of humor (and a knack for pop-culture references)...and this show is no exception. Best of all it actually treats the vampire lore with some respect, unlike certain other franchises I could mention, which lets the bad guys stay scary and the good guys genuinely earn their redemption.

4. Doctor Who (First 6 seasons)
Yes, this is a science fiction show. And yes, it is fairly nerdy. And, yes, watching all six seasons (and all of the classic Doctor Who, also available on Netflix) is pretty time-consuming. So if you don't want to get mega-involved, don't start watching. But if you do, you won't regret it, because the Doctor is hilarious. And pretty bad-ass. And definitely the kind of person whom you will want to be your best friend.

5. Supernatural (First 7 seasons)
The perfect blend of comedy and horror, featuring an adorable Angel of the Lord who will absolutely steal your heart with his first appearance. Better watch this one in daylight, unless you want to start thinking that every creak of the floorboards and every flicker of movement in the mirror is actually a demon set on devouring your organs or enslaving your soul.

6. How I Met Your Mother (First 7 seasons)
Okay...okay. I'm a sucker for Alyson Hannigan, okay? But seriously this is a pretty good show. And it's got Neil Patrick Harris and watching this sweetheart play a womanizer is, no lie, absolutely freaking hilarious. Especially when he breaks out into song. Maybe it's a little drawn out, but I'd rather watch this than something like Two and A Half Men (and why haven't they canceled that one yet?).

7. My Fair Wedding (4 seasons)
Okay, yes, it's a reality show. But it's funny. Especially when the brides apparently have no idea that once they call in David Tutera, they give up control. And watch the fifth season--it shows you all the misbehaving brides and awkward situations that the previous ones skim over. It's like Bridezillas, but with more flair, more fluff, and less bite.

8. Traffic Light (first season)
Short-lived but hilarious, even if you think the whole twentysomething-guys-trying-to-keep-their-shit-together premise is getting old. I promise you, this one doesn't fall into cliche--not very often anyway--but when it does, it manages to turn the trope on its head. Throw in Kris Marshall (My Family, Love Actually) for good measure, and you've got a recipe for comedy success.

9. Coupling (Complete series)
What's funnier than seeing Commodore Norrington talk relentlessly about sex, gynecology, and Lesbian Spank Inferno? Seeing his friends talk about it with him, and make fools of themselves at regular and frequent intervals along the way. This Brit comedy is genius--the writers have a knack for layering comedy the way Breaking Bad layers crime drama.

10. 18 to Life (Complete series)
Never heard of it? I hadn't either, but it's good. Centered around two eighteen-year-olds who spontaneously elope and featuring Life With Derek's Michael Seater, this show is so adorable--and hilariously ridiculous--that it's hard to believe it was canceled so abruptly. (Or, considering all the crap reality shows burning good shows out of network slots, maybe it's not.)

While the sky is still dark

Getting up at 5AM, while not my favorite thing in the world, is at least something I'm somewhat familiar with. I was a figure-skater for a few years a looong time ago, and I had many a day at Interlochen where I had to get up before the sun in order to either go running (which I quickly learned was a bad life choice), finish all the homework I'd neglected the night before, or simply because I couldn't go back to sleep. C'est la vie, as my best friend Dean Moriarty would say. (Yes, Dean, I still whole-heartedly want to believe that I'm your Sal Paradise)

Excuse me if this post doesn't make too much sense. Sleep-deprivation will do that to you.

Waking up to a pink sky, after falling asleep at one-thirty AM, and realizing that I have less than a half-hour to be ready to walk out the door is an experience that I have never found pleasant, exactly, but definitely rewarding. I'm always so much more...interesting? Well, some would probably say pretentious...in the morning. I always feel so ready to slip into my Interlochen, or even pre-Interlochen, persona of the girl who, quite simply, had no damns to give. I don't straighten  my hair anymore, or I do so very rarely, and I hardly ever leave the house without a tube of lipstick in my pocket. I always have a notebook with me, ready to scribble down my latest screenplay idea or a poem I'm more likely to make up on the spot and then forget later. I'm hard to understand, I'm told, because I change my mind at least 5 times a minute. Multiply that by oh, about twelve when I've just woken up. It's impossible to keep up with.

It's just light outside now, and not too cold, and people are just starting to filter into the Oakland Center. And I love this building because where I am, the walls are mostly glass, and it makes looking outside so much easier. I don't have my camera with me; I've yet to bring my camera to OU--too risky, especially when I'm already lugging a backpack and a scooter, I can only look after so many things at once. But I love this place, and I swear that as soon as it's fall, and the leaves begin to turn, I will throw caution to the winds and bring my camera, and take picture after picture of this place looking prettier than any New England campus. (Yes, Saxophone Boy, I'm looking at you and I will forever maintain that my campus is prettier than yours.)

I really do think that there are times when someone needs to duct-tape my mouth (or in this case my fingers) before more word-vomit comes out.

I don't think I've done a post this unstructured since Homesickness, Receding last April. In fact I'm sure I haven't. I think it's because I'm essentially automatic-writing and when I do that early in the morning, there's really no way of shutting me up.

Because I promised new photography awhile ago and can't currently deliver new photography owing to the fact that my camera and memory cards are safely in my room while I'm sitting at a cafeteria table a half-hour's drive away, here are some spring break photos that I never got around to posting. Taken with a Samsung Galaxy II in Cuyohoga Falls, OH and Port Huron, MI, with one random shot of my house.

 You don't know what a big deal it was to see this train--for reference, I've been going to this particular spot since I was a baby and I had never seen a train cross through there until that day.

(photo credit to my dad) 

"Whaaaat?" (photo credit to my dad)

Try To Love Again

So I kind of just really need to get this out...

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know the first cut is the deepest...try to love again.

Okay, so in context, that song is actually about not being able to get over an ex-lover. Right. I get that. But I'm using it to mean something a little different in this case. I don't mean "cut" as in "wound." I mean "cut" as in "impression." As in, the first impression is the deepest. The first impression lasts the longest, and the first impression I had of the subject of this blog post was intense, to say the least.

I love movies. I love making them, and watching them, and writing them, and writing about them. I have seen way too many movies, and there were definitely a few in there that I regretted seeing (Diary of the Dead--no. Just. No), but there were so many that I loved that I always pause for a moment when someone asks, "So, what's your favorite movie?"

I have a few kinds of "favorite movies." Of course there are the ones I love because they are, cinematically speaking, phenomenal. Then there's the favorites that I know I really shouldn't love, but I do anyway--the "guilty pleasure" list, if you will. There are the ones that I love and hate at the same time, because they're beautiful but painful to watch. (Yes, Django Unchained, I'm looking at you.)

And then there are the ones I love not because they're aesthetically pleasing or well-written or well-cast or for any other superficial reason, but just because...well...I just love them. They make me laugh, they make me cry, they make me angry, they make me feel all warm inside. They make me feel, period. They give me something I can't get from any other movie. Sometimes they have cinematic value or historical value; sometimes they don't. I don't care; I just love them for what they are.

The last category has a subcategory I like to call "Films that Make Me Want to Make More Films." Every time I watch one of these, I immediately go to my computer or camera as soon as the credits roll and start working on my own screenplays, treatments, or photographs. More often than not, what I write isn't based on or derivative of whatever I've just watched--but there have been pieces I've written or photographed heavily inspired by these "Films that Make Me Want to Make More Films," henceforth known as FMMWMMF (hey, that's a palindrome!).

And if you look at these FMMWMMF, most of them are not exactly about to be nominated for an Academy Award. They are films like Shopgirl or Back to the Future, films that are beautifully made but often overlooked by critics as "chick flicks" or "summer hits." Not to say I can't appreciate the classics; I can--but after watching something like 2001: A Space Odyssey or Titanic (both films I strongly dislike, by the way), I'm too mentally exhausted to go straight into my own work. And there's a huge difference between directors I love because they're brilliant--Hitchcock, Tarantino, and Michael Moore being prime examples--and directors I love because they fucking get it. Directors whose films make me feel welcomed, accepted; directors whose films make me feel I am not alone with my weird little brain and off-the-wall ideas.

Christopher Nolan.

Anand Tucker.

Gus Van Sant.

Jeff Malmberg.

And believe it or not...

This guy.

Oh, yes. I went there.

Go ahead, laugh at me all you like. Tell me how awful his films have been in recent years, and I'll agree with you. Yes, he needs to shape up. Yes, he needs to get some new material. Yes, he needs to fucking stop casting Johnny Depp; for the love of God, Burton, he won't be offended if you give him some time off now and then...

But...well...

I like him.

I mean I like him a lot.

I mean when I was fourteen I had a giant crush on him.

I mean I had pictures of him on my phone.

I mean I had posters of his films in my room.

I mean I made it my mission to watch every single thing that he released. Including the short films. And his student films. (Still haven't succeeded in that last one, by the way. But I've not given up yet.)

I mean I practically idolized this guy. I used to imagine that he was my best friend. I'd imagine conversations with him, imagine going to high school with him so that being in an online program didn't seem quite as lonely--this was before I went to Interlochen--and when I held my imaginary proms or homecoming dances upstairs, he was always my imaginary date. Even when I actually went to a real high school, with real people and real, age-appropriate crushes, I still obsessively watched his films. I kept a journal of my reactions to and reflections on his movies, his characters, and his poetry and photography. I felt like this was someone, a grown-up, a successful grown-up, a successful grown-up outside of my family, a successful grown-up outside my family with talents that I desperately wanted to develop, who I could understand.

Until I found Tim Burton I wanted to be an actress. I wanted to be Jodie Foster, Kathy Bates, Mary Stuart Masterson. Okay, no, that was what I wanted on an intellectual level, but what I actually fantasized about was being Hilary Duff. That was what I really wanted. I wanted recognition from an adoring crowd, millions of screaming fans, movies, pop albums, clothing lines. I wanted to be Magazine Pop Star Girl. I wanted to be rich and famous and, like so many other tweenage girls, I wanted to be a princess.

And then I saw my first horror movie, and everything changed.

I can't accurately describe the effect that Sleepy Hollow had on me, but I'll give it my best shot. It felt like a curtain had been lifted and I was being shown a whole new world, a whole new way of watching a film. Until that point I'd watched films for story, purely for content. This time I was watching it for the lighting, the colors, the cinematography, the design, the sets, the sheer aesthetic pleasure of it all. I was frightened--a girl like me couldn't help but feel like that, watching a film where gory decapitation was a prominent feature of the story--but I could still get enjoyment out of the experience. And I loved it. Oh, how I loved every minute of it.

My next foray into Burtonland was Nightmare Before Christmas...strangely enough in early spring, nowhere near Christmas or Halloween. I didn't care. I watched every second of it, feeling as though the characters in the movie had been written just for me. Unlike Sleepy Hollow, this was a movie I could watch and admire and analyze...and still sleep at night. It was a movie where not just the aesthetic, but the story spoke to me in ways I'd never before imagined. And I wanted more.

Still, it wasn't until I was about fourteen or so that I really hit my Burton phase. I read his biographies and autobiographies. I read as much about him as I could get my hands on. I watched his movies and analyzed them with a fervor that, to that point, I had only dedicated to Harry Potter. I watched his interviews on YouTube. I saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in theaters--my first new-release Burton film--when I was twelve; asked for the DVD for my thirteenth birthday. When I got my first cell phone in eighth grade, I set his picture as my background. For my first research paper in my freshman year of high school...well, you can guess who I chose as my topic.

To this day I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was that drew me to Tim Burton's work, sucked me in and held me there with an ironclad grip. I think it was mostly timing. I wasn't the typical little preteen; I noticed boys, I liked boys, but I had a hard time relating to girls my own age, because they seemed shallow to me. It was all about where your jeans came from, or which version of the iPod you had, or how many things your cell phone could do. And I tried to be part of that, but it always ended in misery for me. I can't tell you how many times I tried to be part of a "cool" group but couldn't make it work. Keep in mind, at age twelve, I was still playing with my Barbies and American Girl dolls and Playmobil, but at the same time, I was reading parenting magazines and learning how advertising works and discussing Stanley Milgram's experiments with my mother. So that was the kind of kid I was...and yet it wasn't until watching films like Nightmare Before Christmas that I understood just who I was. I wasn't meant to be Pop Princess; I was meant to be me.

And on top of that, there was the feminism aspect. Look at how girls are portrayed in the media: we're supposed to care about nothing but boys and clothes and tech toys. Even the "heroines" are dressed in tight clothes; the female superheroes, like Batgirl and Supergirl, wear skirts and are counterparts to male superheores. So watching something like Beetle Juice, where the "weird girl" saves the day, or Batman Returns, where Catwoman virtually sacrifices herself to kill Shreck even though she has the choice to run off with Bruce Wayne, was very appealing to me. It showed me a new kind of heroine, the kind who had to make hard choices that had nothing to do with which dress to wear to the prom. But at the same time, I always knew it was okay to care about what you wore to the prom, but it was equally important to understand that it's okay to care about other things too.

And then there was the filmmaking angle, and once I went to a "real" high school and started studying moviemaking seriously, Tim Burton became even more important to me. He really drew my attention to directing, because his films aren't character-driven, they're more settings-driven. An exception to this would be something like Edward Scissorhands, where the character is so perfect for the settings and he's a well-developed character--and I adore Edward Scissorhands, by the way, because I spent my teen years in a housing development, so I could identify with it as well as appreciate the artistic elements of it--but watch something like Beetle Juice. Who the hell is Betelgeuse, anyway? No one knows, no one cares. Who is Otho? Who are the Deetzes? No one cares, because they're in this rich environment and they're so wild, they're all absolutely crazy and their environment is so perfectly created that you love them anyway. Until I started watching Burton's films, I never understood that you didn't have to follow the structure--Underdog Becomes Hero And Slowly Wins Over The Girl, or Misunderstood Girl Becomes Popular And Gets The Guy. You could write other things. You could do things like Beetle Juice, parodies and comedies and mysteries and a little bit of horror, all wrapped into one.

I wouldn't say my films are just like that--on occasion, some element of a Burton film might inspire me, but I never try to re-create what he's done. I'm more on the side of realism--think Anand Tucker or Diablo Cody--but he's still important to me, because he first drew my attention to the concept of filmmaking as an art. And that right there is the bottom line. If I'd never seen Sleepy Hollow, I would not have wanted to become a director, or a screenwriter. It's that simple. I never would have gone to Interlochen, read Girl Director and Make Your Own Damn Movie, studied the work of Hitchcock and Kubrick, or taken a college class that required me to write a full feature-length screenplay in less than four months.

Imagine my distress, then, when the reaction to my love for Tim Burton, nine times out of ten, consists of "Oh...you like that guy."

Yes. Yes, I do. And no, you do not get to judge me for it. And if you do, I will judge you for liking James Cameron (who, in addition to directing some damn terrible movies--watch Avatar and seriously tell me he's got any shred of creativity--is a flaming a-hole) and Francis Ford Coppola (I don't care what anyone says, The Godfather is a trainwreck in terms of script. Period.).

Watching Tim Burton films gives me hope. His work tells me, with every flaw, every bad casting choice, every repeated storyline and every awkward line of dialogue, that I have hope of becoming a filmmaker. His work tells me that the awkwardly extroverted young girl who made Playmobil shorts with her father, who wrote stories in which her pet rabbit could talk, who once filmed her every move and called it "the Avery Udell TV Show," can someday turn into a legitimate filmmaker whose work speaks to other awkward young girls much like herself. I still tear up at Ed Wood--because I fucking am Ed Wood. You really think that I'm delusional enough to think that I will ever win an Oscar? I'm not--I will not be a Hollywood darling. I know this. But I still try. I wrote a feature script in four months. I sent my films into festivals. When they weren't accepted, I found a best friend and started making shorts--and the president of my college noticed. Did I care that he wasn't the president of the Academy? No--because he noticed, and he cared, and that was enough. I don't care, I truly don't, that I am destined to be a writer--and be virtually anonymous. If I touch one person the way Tim Burton has touched me, then I will be happy.

So yes, I still believe in Tim Burton. And when Big Eyes hits theaters next summer, I will be first in line to buy a ticket. (Christoph Waltz and Amy Adams starring in a Tim Burton film? Yes, please.) And yes, I still credit him for introducing me to the world of filmmaking as an art. Is this unfeminist of me? Should I perhaps be gushing over Kathryn Bigelow, Jamie Babbit, Kimberly Peirce, Catherine Hardwicke, Julie Davis--the women who made the independent films that I so love, whose style of filmmaking is so much closer to mine than that of the wild, surrealist Tim Burton? Maybe. But the fact remains that it wasn't Boys Don't Cry or Thirteen that sucked me into the artistic world of filmmaking and held me there while I found my niche--it was Sleepy Hollow and The Nightmare Before Christmas and Edward Scissorhands.

I still believe in you, Mr. Burton. And I won't give up on you...no matter how many more like Dark Shadows you make. Keep doing what you're doing. When you make another film that I fall in love with, I'll be the first to reaffirm your brilliance.

Just...please promise you'll keep exploring new actors, won't you? I love Johnny Depp as much as the next person, but there are others who would be so very well suited to your style, you know.