Update Your Profile, Update Your Life

So today I changed all my profile information here on Blogger. Well, actually I decided I hated my old Google account name and wanted a new Gmail address, so I got one, added myself as a team contributor to this blog, and then treacherously back-stabbed my old email out and declared my new account the sole author. I know I was only betraying myself, but there was still an odd, Stalinesque rush to it.

Anyway, this required me to fill out an all-new profile for myself. Now, you'd think this would be easy for me, what with so much practice from MySpace, Facebook, and imeem (though I'll admit that last one has almost no personal information on it whatsoever), but it really wasn't. I'm sitting here looking at this page, and it's asking me all of these probing questions like "Favorite Music?" and I just froze. So what did I do? Looked up my Facebook profile, of course! Surely my Facebook life is the truest representation of me, right? Well, it turns out I don't even like half that stuff anymore! Justin Timberlake? Sevigny? Great people, but favorite music? I'm not so sure. The MySpace is even worse - I haven't listened to Peter Eldridge for, like, a year (again, he's great, but how can he be a favorite if I don't listen at least once a month?). So for this latest profile, I have endeavored to look inside myself and actually only write down people and things that I'd actually consider favorites, and let me tell you, it was not easy to do. So when I say The Last Unicorn is one of my favorite books, I mean that I routinely reread and even quote from it. Likewise, when I say I'm interested in Free Stuff, I mean I'm really interested in Free Stuff. So I hope you all don't go taking this for granted. I haven't taken such an honest assessment of myself since I wrote my Identity Book in 7th Grade. Wow.

Also, this made me laugh, so I thought I'd share. It comes from xkcd. Click to enlarge and all that jazz.

Signs Your Boyfriend is a Superhero

- He's exceptionally mild-mannered.
- He has a weird affinity for Spandex.
- It's impossible to get a hold of him at night.
- He mentions he was exposed to radiation, toxic waste, mutated animals, or sundry other scientific experiments, but for some reason he doesn't look seriously ill.
- You seem to get kidnapped by evil masterminds an awful lot lately and no one can explain why.
- Every time something catastrophic happens when you're out together (which is surprisingly often, come to think of it), he ditches you until it's over. You keep dating him anyway.
- You're attracted to a superhero because he's wild and dangerous and mysterious, which your boyfriend definitely is not. The two do have roughly the same build, however.
- He always knows the location of the nearest phone booth, which is weird because you both have cell phones.
- You know an abnormal amount of people who are in comas.
- He's actually supporting himself solely as a freelance photographer or journalist, even though you rarely see him do any work. Also, all of his stories or photos feature the same superhero, despite the fact that the two have never been seen in the same room together. Alternatively, he's a millionaire who also never seems to do any actual work, ever.
- When you badmouth superheros, he takes it REALLY personally for some reason.
- He's moody, evasive, emotionally unavailable, constantly tired, unreliable, angsty, cowardly, and you are almost certainly way out of his league, but for some reason you just keep dating him.

I hope you took note of this; I feel it's important for any woman living in a large, crime-ridden city (like Provo) to be aware of the signs.

Cool Points Report - 3/4/8

In order to keep everyone up to date on my opinions, I am establishing a Coolness Report to tell you where people are on the current Coolness Scale. This way you can know who is cool, who isn't, and exactly what you should think and believe. As this is based on a point system, obviously you should like people who are gaining in points, and you should dislike people who are losing points. Ready? Here we go...

The Following People Have Recently LOST Cool Points:

Gary Hubbell and "The Angry White Man"
...At least as described in the Aspen Times News last month. And I quote:

"'Press "one" for English' is a curse-word to him."
"[The] thought of killing someone who needs killing really doesn’t bother him."
"Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help themselves..."
"He knows that his wife is more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner."

And it goes on. Oh, it goes on. Basically if you just go through this article and replace "Angry White Man" with "Massive Tool" everywhere you find it, you'll have an inkling of what I think about Mr. Hubbell's opinion. In fact, Hillary Clinton actually gained some Cool Points just because "the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton," which is about the only reason she hasn't hit the lower depths of the Coolness Scale lately (seriously lady, can we just chill?). And I'm sorry, but if you identify with more than about 30% of this article, then you're probably a bit of tool, too.

The US Mint
What's with turning the Sacajawea dollar coin into the James Madison dollar coin? I know he was instrumental to the writing of the Constitution and all (I mean, I've seen A More Perfect Union), but come on. It was so cool having a coin that didn't feature an upper-class white guy, even if it was a coin that nobody really uses.

Charlotte Allen and The Washington Post

"The theory that women are the dumber sex...is amply supported by neurological and standardized-testing evidence....So I don't understand why more women don't relax, [and] enjoy the innate abilities most of us possess...Then we could shriek and swoon and gossip and read chick lit to our hearts' content and not mind the fact that way down deep, we are . . . kind of dim."

Yeah...I know the Washington Post people said the article was supposed to be "tongue-in-cheek" (in which case she just doesn't know what she's doing if you ask me), but I somehow doubt it based on all that I've heard about Ms. Allen. Then again, I'm more emotional than rational, and also kind of dim. (Read the article if you feel like being annoyed today. And then read Katha Pollit's response and feel a little better about life.)

My Sociology 112 Midterm
That was NOT the grade I wanted.

Meanwhile, These People Have Gotten Significantly Cooler:

Daniel Day-Lewis
Watch There Will Be Blood. That's all I have to say.






Mary Doria Russell
The Sparrow was about the best thing I've read this year.

The WGA
A few points gained for going on strike. Many, many more for not being on strike anymore.

Emma Thompson
Here's the story: gorgeous British actress Hayley Atwell was asked by the producers at Miramax to lose weight for her role in Brideshead Revisited. Emma Thompson, who also appears in the film, heard about Atwell's predicament one night over dinner, and the next day she called the producers and threatened to quit the film if they didn't let Atwell off the hook. Emma Thompson is so cool, and so powerful, and so Oscar-winning, that the Miramax guys quickly shut up, and now when the film comes out we can see Hayley Atwell in all her gorgeous, non-sickly-looking* glory. Emma also apparently calls up Kate Winslet every now and then to ask if she's eating "proper desserts." I love it. You know how I said before that I might want to be her when I grow up? Well now I definitely do. (This story was originally reported by People.)

Stephen Sondheim
He hasn't actually done anything lately to warrant a sudden rise in Coolness, at least not that I'm aware of, but we were just assigned scenes from Sunday in the Park with George in my Musical Scene Study class and it reminded me of how much I LOVE THIS MAN's work. Sondheim is so cool that Tim Threlfall gets cooler just for assigning his stuff to us in class. And since I've lately become addicted to imeem, you can now find my paltry 5-song Sondheim playlist there. Yay!

In Summary...
British actresses are cool; angry white guys are not. Hm...what else is new?

*You want sickly-looking? Check out Renee Zellwegger lately. Remember when she used to actually, you know, have a body? Here's a comparison care of the Daily Mail.

Google Ruins My Life...Again

"So put on those clothes you never grew into and smile like you mean it for once. If you come back, bring a new name for everything." - The Weakerthans, 'A New Name For Everything'

So today while I was procrastinating some much-needed work I decided to see if I could find myself on Google (I thought about trying to find myself in the faces of the ones I love, but Google seemed quicker). So I cruised over to the website, typed in my name, put quotes around it, and then hit "Google Search". I was SHOCKED by what I found - there have got to be a bajillion Julie Saunderses out there! And not only that, but they're all actors, writers, singers, and/or artists! Now, on the one hand it's nice to know that my name is somehow predestined for artistic expression. But on the other hand, this certainly doesn't help one to feel like a particularly unique, original person.

Now, I did find myself on Google - on the second page, and it was just my imeem profile - but with so many other Julie Saunderses out there competing to be me, who's going to notice? And since everyone forgets my name anyway, I've decided that maybe it's time for a change.

Changing your name seems major, but it's not really that big of a deal. Why, all of these people did it - and we only know because they're celebrities! Who knows how many people do this all the time? The problem, of course, is deciding what one's new name ought to be. There are a billion names out there and it's always hard to say which will fit me best. Luckily I get renamed a lot by people, so that at least gives me someplace to start. Let's see, in recent memory I have been mistakenly called
- Lauren
- Jessica
- Megan
- Sarah
- Emily
Lauren is by far the most common name mistake people make, but I already know a way cool girl named Lauren and taking her name would be just plain weird. I don't think the others actually fit at all, though I did once spend an entire semester with some of my friends calling me Sarah at least as often as they called me Julie. That was weird. And I already have a name tag clipped to my backpack that says Kate (gift from a little girl at a King Lear performance), so it wouldn't be too far a stretch to start going by that.

Here are some other names I like: Keely, Emory, Ayden, Aideen, Aurelia...none of them seem to fit. Though I did search for "Keely Saunders" on Google and came up with only 9 responses, and all of them fairly uninteresting except for the one who was a tennis player or something.

Of course, Julie isn't my real name anyway. It's actually Julienne. This is a little-known fact about me, since there are only about 3 people in the world who ever call me Julienne (not even my parents call me Julienne, and they gave me the name!). So I guess I could start going by Julienne Saunders. There are no matches for that on Google! Of course, then I'd have to go by Julienne Saunders. That's not good.

Maybe the answer's not my first name, come to think of it. Maybe my last name should change. I once dreamed up Julie Carroway for myself, which yields only one result and that's just the person's first name followed by where she's from as far as I can tell. There are 29 Julie Carraways and 66 responses to Julie Caraway on my old friend Google. And none of them appear to be encroaching on my identity in any way. Yeah, I could definitely enjoy being known as Julie Carroway. Or there's always my old "stage name" from 7th grade, Zichi Calhoun. Now there's a winner - you won't find one anywhere! And it wouldn't be that much weirder than Diablo Cody, whose name used to be Brook Busey of all things.

The problem, of course, is that I rather like being Julie Saunders. It's got a nice ring to it. People know it already. It's on all my things. And I have a really cool signature worked out for it. Hm. Well, what do you think - go for something new or find a moral justification for killing off 12,599 people named Julie Saunders? It's a difficult problem, to be sure.

It's a Sunshine Day

"And even if time ain't really on my side / It's one of those days for taking a walk outside. / I'm blowing the day to take a walk in the sun / And fall on my face on somebody's new-mowed lawn." - Lovin' Spoonful, 'Daydream'

Today - get this, you won't believe it - today I woke up and the sun was actually shining. Like, you could see it, in the sky. It was amazing. I hadn't seen a sight like that since my week in LA earlier this month, and oh, I'd been missing it so! So when I peered out my window this morning and saw that gorgeous, gaseous orb smiling luminously back at me, I just knew it would be a wonderful day. I put on my favorite swingy, frivolous skirt that my mom said I would never wear (ha! Showed her!), a pair of navy leggings to appease the slight chill in the air, and went sockless all day. It was fabulous. And a lot of great things happened - my class went well, I don't have to move until I graduate in December, and a package from home arrived with a late birthday present and boxes of couscous, sweetener, and sugar-free chocolate. But the best part - my favorite part of the day - was when I went for a walk. Outside.

Going on a long walk outside is one of my absolute favorite things to do. You get to see things, experience nature, clear your head, tackle problems, and sometimes meet new people who then invite you to dinner at Village Inn. And you can also learn a lot of new things on a walk. Allow me to share a few of today's lessons with you...

Just because you're welcome sometimes doesn't mean you're welcome all the time. Like between 10:00 PM and 7:00 AM. People like to sleep during those times, not think about you and your presumptuously parked car.


Pay attention before people go to drastic measures such as painting arrows toward their problems in order to get you to look at them. This sidewalk is completely broken, but did anyone care? Obviously not, or it wouldn't feel the need to draw attention to itself in such an outlandish fashion. And now you know this is going to create one of those vicious cycles where it thinks it just have to go further and further in order to get anyone to validate its existence. It's just sad when good walkways go bad.

Celebrate Christmas all year round. And be open about it - it helps other people keep the spirit alive too. After seeing this, for example, I feel much less like a freak for having songs from Christmas with Dino stuck in my head all day.


Hydration is good for everyone. Even nature thinks so! Alternatively, this picture teaches us that if we don't use our technology, the Earth is bound to reclaim it. So get out that iPod or lose it, son.


Even trees like to show off their booties. Yeah baby! Shake that thang!*










Indoor appliances can belong outside. In other words, think outside the box. Or the kitchen.






What you can't swing from, you can always climb up on. I don't know precisely how that relates to my life, but it sure does seem significant.

So all you out there in internet-land, the next time you're faced with a nice, sunshiny day, rather than shrinking in fear from the great fiery ball in the sky go out there and see what, if anything, it has to show you. After all, the sun isn't just about UV rays and premature aging - it's got a lot of life lessons to share, too.

*Note to self: Never, ever say "thang" again.

A Lame Post

As it turns out, choosing the right template for your blog is one of the world's most difficult things to do. It's right up there with climbing Mount Everest and learning all the lyrics to "It's Tricky". Or preparing two scenes and monologue for competition next week (in LA! Woohoo!) while also getting off-book for two shows, all while not really sleeping at night. But like those things, it is also possible - and sometimes it's just something one does because one must (or in the case of Everest, because it's there).

Let me know what you think of this one (the layout, not the lame post).

I Still Love You, WGA.

I just discovered the Speechless campaign, which is basically an ongoing series of videos meant to demonstrate SAG's solidarity with the WGA. As of right now there are about 30 videos in total, and I love them all. I've chosen to repost a few of my favorites here - behold!*

As I said, there are many others and they're all wonderful, so I strongly suggest that you watch them all. If you want to know more about the WGA strike, you can start with the website for the Writers Guild of America, West. Or I guess you can just look it up on Wikipedia (I hear their article's actually pretty good).

*And by that I mean, "Please watch them!"
Special thanks to my sometime hero and all-the-time MySpace friend, Zach Braff, for directing me to these lovely videos.

A New Layout For a New Year

In case you didn't notice, it's a new year! Incurable optimist that I am (they've got researchers working round the clock to fix me, don't you worry), I've every hope this year will be miles better than the last. I've got a light semester ahead of me, lots of wonderful performance opportunities to look forward to, and a general feeling of tangy lightness that I interpret as a favorable premonition for the future. In lieu of New Year's Resolutions (I made some New School Year's Resolutions back in September, if you remember, which somehow led to my bleaching out my hair), I'm in the midst of a lifestyle makeover. So far the results are fabulous. I'll try for a better update when it's not 2 AM. In the meantime, here are three New Year's Firsts:

First Meal of 2008
Sugar-free ice cream & peanut butter. Also popcorn.

First Buyer's Remorse of 2008










Inexplicable really, considering it's rather adorable and I bought it with a gift card. If you're wondering, it's from Forever 21.

First Movie of 2008


















Which I found quite delightful, really.

In other news, a comment I made on Glamocracy, a political blog hosted by Glamour.com (I know, I know), was cited as one of the "Comments of the Week" this week. I know they only get, like, 10 comments per week, but all the same I'm weirdly proud of myself. Funny how even attention from people I do not and will never know makes me feel important. Then again, just about everything makes me feel important.

Happy New Year everyone!

Now, I could be delirious from lack of sleep, but...

When I grow up, I want to be Zach Braff. The man is 32, a college graduate, a successful (and critically acclaimed) director and writer, and a fabulous actor capable of both hilarious comedy AND heart-wrenching whatever. Plus he has probably the best taste in music I've ever seen. Much of this evening has been spent chilling to William Fitzsimmons and Ingrid Michaelson, both recommended by Braff on his website. All that, and he's got those quirky good looks, which I think are a reasonable translation of the unconventional beauty to which I've lately decided I aspire.* How amazing to have accomplished so much without even going through a midlife crisis!

After I'm done being Zach Braff, I'd like to become Cate Blanchett. It's impossible for me to overstate how positively mesmerizing that woman is. And possibly Emma Thompson as well. At any rate, I should be either British or Australian by the time I'm 40 (I know Blanchett is only 38 but I'm trying to be realistic here). It might be nice to be Kate Winslet and do movies like Finding Neverland and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and not even have to starve yourself for your career, but I'm not totally sold on the idea yet. I could moonlight as Kevin Spacey and run the Old Vic in London in between brilliant, empathetic movie roles (I'd secretly be really good at impersonations, too - look it up on YouTube). I'd definitely like to spend many years as Cate Blanchett, though. Then I could finally move on to become Meryl Streep for a bit, with the option of finally ending up as Peter O'Toole and/or Vanessa Redgrave, should I choose it (hard to say; though still in excellent spirits, O'Toole tends to look like he's not totally sure where he's at these days).

How could I almost forget! Of course, given the option, I must be Sam Shepard for at least a little while. The man is a Pulitzer prize winning playwright, an Oscar nominated actor, and he was a drummer in the 60's. He's won 11 Obie Awards, been nominated for two Tonys, and he went on tour with Bob Dylan for Pete's sake!** The man knew Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac! And he's been called "the thinking woman's sex symbol", which is pretty neat (do thinking men have a sex symbol, or does Jessica Alba just work for everyone?). I'd probably only depart from his very masculine writing style (fabulous reading, but I don't think we need much more man-centered art in the world) and possibly some of the more unsavory characteristics I've heard ascribed to him. Other than that, I'd happily become him. Though I'd probably better hurry up - he began his career at 19, so I'm already two years behind.

I would love to be all of these people, flowing seamlessly from one to the next, taking experiences and attributes from each and combining them altogether. Maybe I should change my name to Julie Braff-Blanchett-Spacey-Streep-O'Toole-Redgrave-Shepard. Or I suppose I could just be the first ever Me instead of the next anybody, and then someday other college seniors could procrastinate their studying for finals writing about how they want to be me when they grow up. Awwwww.

*"...Unconventionally beautiful. They are the best kind of girls, I think." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
**Well actually, I think he went for his own sake; Pete probably had very little do with his decision-making process.

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Bonus! Here are the lyrics to some songs I've been finding positively amazing lately:
When I Was A Boy, by Dar Williams
All Available Light, by The Paperbacks
Landlocked Blues, by Bright Eyes (fair warning: mild content issues)
The Devil Drives, by Murder by Death
Bigfoot!, by The Weakerthans

The Meaning of Life

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." - Anonymous

Moments that take your breath away:

• Strangulation
• Drowning
• Being punched in the diaphragm
• Getting sucked into outer space
• S.C.U.B.A. diving with empty oxygen tanks
• Someone hitting your trachea
• Asphyxiation
• Asthma attacks
• Death

Just something to think about.

The Best of All Possible News

Finished, completed, accomplished, achieved, done with, ceased, closed, compassed, concluded, consummated, culminated, dispatched, effected, effectuated, ended, entire, executed, finalized, fulfilled, over, realized, resolved, satisfied, settled, stopped, terminated, through, worked out, wrapped up, finis. My rewrites are DONE. That's right, folks. There's been a miracle, a mighty miracle of great marvel and wonder, and that miracle is the completion of this ridiculous children's play. I am on cloud 9 (the best of all the clouds, I'm told). I'm over the moon. I'm the stars in your eyes and the...no, wait. Now I'm getting confused.

This has been the longest, most difficult process for some reason, and now I just feel this weight lifting off my shoulders as I finally leave all the angst behind. The play has officially entered its "tweaking" or "polishing" phase, meaning that from here I only need to run through and reword it. I haven't brought myself to do this just yet, but it won't take long when I get to it. I'm excited! At last I feel free to pursue other projects (beyond just jotting lines in my little notebook). Scratch that; at last I feel just plain free!

It's been nearly two full years since I first laid on a couch in Oregon, coughing incessantly and dangerously sleep-deprived, and imagined Harriet and Arlo like creatures from a waking dream. Their story has become about 12 full drafts and some 3 or 4 completely different plays (or so it seems to look at them), but I've finally settled on the one that could actually be produced. I've learned a lot in that time and I've actually had a lot of fun writing them, but as the Wood Brothers sing, "'S good to see you, but I'll be glad to see you go."

And just in time for finals, too.

Best Snack Foods For Rewrites

- Chocolate
- Sugar-Free Chocolate
- Chocolate-Flavored Granola Bars
- Chocolate Chex
- Hot Chocolate
- Mexican Hot Chocolate (Hot Chocolate w/ Cinnamon)
- Chocolate Milk
- Chocolate Soymilk
- Popcorn

A Break From Writing...Which I Spend Writing

Why are there no decent coffee shops here? All I wanted tonight was a reasonably funky-looking joint with a cool atmosphere where I wouldn't have to navigate through 25,681 pseudo-intellectuals with $200 emo-wannabe haircuts clutching their Grande Non-Fat Half-Caff Iced Mochaccinos With No Foam, A Shot Of Espresso, A Twist Of Lemon, And Dressing On The Side, Please. Apparently, such a place simply does not exist! And what's a girl got to do to find a good Sugar-Free White Chocolate Steamer in this town, anyway? You'd think a place with this many Mormons would be capitalizing on the non-caffeinated market and offer you more than just hot chocolate or - ooooooh - peppermint hot chocolate (but only for the holiday season). But no. I settled for the Barnes & Noble Cafe because at least their hot chocolate is made with Godiva chocolate, and if I'm going to drink something too sugary, it might as well be made with the good stuff. I sat down and, coffee shop (sort of) found, I pulled out my laptop and began to work.

First I wrote an overdue online post for my English class about The Role of Writing in Preserving the Arts and Humanities. I didn't post it, since I didn't feel like paying for internet for a two-second discussion post, but at least I saved it and got it done. Then I pulled out the last draft of my play and re-read it, taking care to connect with the tone and pillage nice-sounding lines at will. I have NO idea why I hadn't thought to do this before. And then, tired of being stared at by some older dude who also had a laptop and maybe thought because of this that we were kindred spirits, I actually relocated to the library. For the first time in my life, I actually stayed until the library closed. I've more or less been working on rewrites and nothing but rewrites for the past 6 hours, and I must say I'm very happy about that. You would not believe how the script is improving! I can hardly believe it myself. It's really quite liberating.

It's times like these when I remember that I actually do enjoy writing - the process of writing, not just the finished product. In fact, I think I enjoy the process better than the finished product. Maybe that's why I get so angsty when I feel like my process is blocked, as it has been for the past, oh, year. But now, oh! I wasn't sure about this when I decided to really get back into it, because for some reason I thought it wasn't good that I "lose" hours and hours when I'm really writing. A six-hour writing binge (or would it be a writing purge?) is not all that uncommon for me when I'm really working on something. And I think I was afraid of something I can't define. But I was sitting in my Doctrine & Covenants class on Monday, thinking about my future and next Summer, and I swear it just popped into my mind that I needed to write. Now. And now that I have my power cord back and I'm not in complete shock over my dad's health issues, I understand that that was a very wise impression I had. I'm happy about it.

Quick update on last post: they discovered today that most of my dad's intense symptoms were in fact caused by a virus inhabiting the tissue around his heart (who knew you could even get those?) - or rather, that he did have a minor heart attack and some issues causing it, but that the virus was intensifying them. Which alerted them to the heart problems, allowing him to get a needed angioplasty before any major damage was done. One of those "blessing in disguise" situations. So he went home from the hospital yesterday, very tired but well on the road to recovery. He should spend the next week or so sleeping and doing puzzles, and then he'll slowly return to normal. Hurray!

And now, the day-dawn has risen and it's back to work!

A Day That Will Live In Oddity

My father had a heart attack this morning. My mother rushed him to the hospital because he was having severe chest pains (for the second time in less than 12 hours - the first time it was ruled most likely nothing to worry about). The doctors checked things out and decided to give him an angioplasty, which is less invasive than other, scarier heart-related procedures, and now he'll be hanging out at the hospital for the next few days. They say he should be completely back to normal in about one month to six weeks.

The weird thing about this though is how it really wasn't a big deal to me until, like, 10 minutes ago. My mom explained everything to me this afternoon in this kind of breezy, matter-of-fact way, casually mentioning letters grouped in 3 like EKG and ICU, and I guess she just made it sound like something so everyday that I didn't treat it like anything that far out of the ordinary.* It occurred to me to send him a Get Well card, mostly because I had one hanging around (a little while ago a good friend broke his leg and when I bought his card I found this other one I thought was too cute to pass up), so I got my sister and brother-in-law to sign it and I wrote a sarcastic message I hoped would make him laugh**. We drew some pictures to go along with it (a broccoli labeled "your best friend" and a tub of lard labeled "hates you") and I sent it off. My sister was so normal about the whole thing, too. It was like, "A get well card - oh, that's nice." Sometimes I don't know if my family really knows how to freak out. I'm not sure if I want them to learn.

So I was going about my day as if nothing strange had happened at all, and then suddenly it's 10 minutes ago and I'm alone in my room and I'm listening to Cat Stevens' "Father and Son" and I look over at this funny note I got from my dad with the package that arrived today and maybe I'm just a sucker for a moment, but I think it hit me. But it's strange. I never feel the easy way that people describe other people feeling at these kinds of times. Not sad or scared or anything, just...significantly weirded out. I mean, it's not that I thought he was invincible, though I think in a way fathers are always invincible, but certainly he was unstoppable. And now he's in a hospital room, which is wildly different from a hotel room, and what is the world coming to? And I realized I'm not going to be able to get any rewrites done tonight. The play is so inextricably linked to my father, though not in the obvious ways most people will think it is, and I just don't know how to rewrite when he's not what I wrote right now. Does that make sense? There's a certain helplessness to that, because the rewrites have been expected for so long, and I didn't get anything done over Thanksgiving break, and I didn't get anything done when I got back to Provo because I left my computer's power cord in Oregon and there's my whole life on this thing (I got the cord back in the package today). And now I just don't know if I'll ever get this damn thing done.*** Certainly not in time for it to be staged in February as planned, unless I have some sudden flash of genius. I just hate that.

I came to this realization, and I stumbled blindly onto MySpace, where I found I'd been contacted by some boys I thought I'd never even think about again. These "Hey, remember me?" messages just sitting there. And when all the rest of your world is a little off-kilter, something like that seems absolutely bizarre. Instead of, "Oh, him! I remember him!" I'm thinking, "Is the whole WORLD not what I thought it was?!?" I wandered into the living room to get my bearings (my bedroom is far too chaotic for sense-making), looked into a mirror, and realized my nose was bleeding. I believe that was the point at which I began swearing aloud. Luckily no one heard (don't you judge me, Provo!). It's just that it's all coming at the end of such a strange day, what with my laptop being dead right when I needed it (I had to actually call two stage managers because I couldn't get to my email - and I hate calling people!), and then we really had the single strangest performance of King Lear to date today. I was crying onstage, then laughing so hard I couldn't move backstage, then everyone was just off and doing these weird things they'd never done with their characters before, and at one point I honestly thought the backdrop was going to fall on my head... I can't begin to explain the strangeness of the day. I just finished all my sugar-free chocolate and I still don't feel like life is normal again.

It's times like these when finishing my homework seems just unfathomable. But I guess that's life. A girl from my old playwriting class once said, "You still have to pay the bills the day your mom dies." That's one of my favorite things I've heard.

---

*Lots of people think I get my acting talents from my dad, because he's loud like me and likes to perform. But judging from the way my mother calmly ended our phone conversation during my dad's first problems last night, most of it's got to be coming from her. Mom: "Oh, hey, I'm sorry but your father's kind of sick and I've got to take him to the doctor now. Sorry to have to end the conversation early." Me: "Oh...OK then. Tell him to get better, alright?" Mom: "I will. And I hope you can finish the rest of your play alright." Me: "Oh, I'll be fine." Mom: "Okay. Bye then. Love you." Me: "See you." And my father was standing there with his chest and his arm hurting like crazy, having trouble breathing. My mom's talking to me and getting her things together at the same time; she didn't sound stressed at all. I'm telling you - I'm pretty good at what I do, but my mom's a freaking genius.

**Much of my childhood was spent keeping my parents suitably entertained so they wouldn't notice that I wasn't actually helping out around the house, so I've got a pretty good read on my dad's sense of humor.

***Mormon readers: feel free to pretend I just said "darn". "I just don't know if I'll ever get this darn thing done." Or flim-flammin', or whatever you prefer.

The Effects of Eating a Krispy Kreme Donut on Hypoglycemic Blogger Girls

So tired. So tired. I can't really...I can't really... What happened to two hours ago? I couldn't stop laughing. My roommate made fun of me. I kept flipping the blinds back and forth. Somehow I was dancing to Kelly Clarkson in my room. It was great. I even got some writing done, though I can't remember any of it now.

Words are hard. I seem to be wording the mixing up the. I swear I'm not high. Was that two hours ago? Or stoned. I'm not stoned. Just some low blood-sugar. Can't stop adding extra d's to every wordd. Good thing I've got a delete button.d My head kind of hurts. I'd been dso good. And then there they were. I put one in the microwave and then it just tasted so good. And now. And now. And now...I'm tired. I'm never writing when I'm like this again.

And yet I just really want another donut...

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

" Remember the time you drove all night / Just to meet me in the morning? / And I thought it was strange you said everything changed / You felt as if you'd just woke up." - Bright Eyes (First Day of My Life)

As I was watching BYU's production of The Seagull last night (which was incredible by the way, and I officially heap praise upon all involved), I had a most interesting epiphany. Ever have that feeling like you don't know where you've been lately? It occurred to me that aside from a few notable incidents, I haven't really been where I was for most of this semester. I don't know where I've been going, but it's someplace else entirely. And now I think it's time to come back.

I have the most peculiar feeling, like I'm waking up even though I haven't really been asleep. I'm sitting here in my room, listening to an odd-yet-natural combination of Bright Eyes and Johnny Cash (the hopeful ends of both), and I think I might even be able to get back to really writing again. Which is good, because it turns out Eric is expecting those rewrites after all so he can hold auditions. And here I'd assumed we could both just forget about it and it'd be like the writer's block never happened. Shows what I know.

I suspect that my swearing habit is returning. This is slightly troubling, as my friend base is predominately comprised of conservative Mormons who I believe have a reasonable expectation not to hear unsavory language from the people they care about. I try to censor myself, but in order to do it faithfully (meaning you don't use substitute words when you really mean the real word) you have to reword entire sentences so that the bad words don't have a place anymore. And that's hard to do when you're really upset! On a related note, I wish more people used cool replacement expletives like "flim-flammin'," "consarn it," and "Laws!" How much more awesome would that be? "Zouterkins!" is so much cooler than "Darn!"

Salty language aside, November is already looking better than October. In the first two days I got to hang out with a really cool friend at a grocery store and then fulfill a life-long (okay, weeks-long) dream of playing the Beast from Beauty and the Beast in my stage combat class. Sword fighting + Beast growls + Ryan's Gaston voice = soooo sweet. AND I think the number of people from church who actually know that I exist is rapidly growing. This is good news, because for all that I've always said I'd choose invisibility for my super power, it turns out being invisible is not that great of a feeling. Oh! Oh! And after over two months in my care, I've finally given my Betta fish a name! I now call him Roger Dorsey, and if you know where I got that name from you're officially cool.

Here's a picture of him. He looks very little like the Roger Dorsey he's named after, but I like it anyway. I think it suits him. After cleaning his tank today, I've decided that I'm going to buy him an algae eater. He could do with a friend who'll clean up after him; a Felix Unger of his very own, if you like (I'm just full of extra textual references today!).

So, so far my grand awakening has led me to quote more Bright Eyes; swear a little less even though I want to swear a little more; impersonate a large, hairy man-beast; and give my fish a name. If that's not progress, then I don't know what is!

Update from the last post: I still haven't figured out how to draw Brenda, nor do I know how Chester will evolve from a cow, but I did draw some sweet-looking leaves with my oil pastels so I feel a little satisfied for now at least.

Just Can't Getchu Outta My Head...

I'm supposed to be writing a paper right now, but I just can't help myself. I've got this girl, this character, stuck in my head and I can't seem to get her out. The thing is I can't figure out what kind of story she's supposed to be in, so I have to draw her. The problem with that is, I don't really know how. I mean, I know how to draw (sort of), but I don't know how to draw her. I got a bunch of soft pastels and some watercolors and stuff today, but I don't really know how to use those, either. I have a feeling this is going to be an uphill battle.

Her name is Brenda, and I can't figure out if she has blonde hair, red hair, or light brown hair. She has large eyes and she's very adventurous. She comes with a dragon named Chester. Chester presents another problem in that I don't really know how to draw a dragon. Especially not one like him. I think he will be modeled roughly after a cow. A Jersey cow, I think. Maybe a Durham Red. I shall have to do much cow research. But he is soft and sort of leathery-feeling, very friendly and I think of him whenever I see those reddish-purple leaves that all the bushes around here are showing off. Brenda and Chester have been friends since they were tiny children. They live in a cave high up on a forested mountain and they go flying together every day. They're strange because even though I know they have a story (eventually they'll save the prince), they just refuse to be written. I think after I've drawn them a couple of times something will start to come out.

Does anyone know how to use pastels? I've really only ever used graphite sticks and charcoals before, but I feel like I need more color. Maybe after I've played with them for a while it'll get easier.

And as for my huge paper due tomorrow? Um...we'll see.

Song of the Day: Utilities

I'm not going to do that thing where you repost all the lyrics of a song in your blog. If you want to read the lyrics, you can just click here - and I suggest that you do.

On Sunday evening I was hangin' with some friends (my posse, if you will) when we started discussing "perfect" songs. Not objectively perfect songs, because I don't think such a thing exists, but songs that are or have been perfect for you, your mood, your life, etc. You know those moments when you listen to a song and you feel like you're writing it instead of hearing it? That's what I call the perfect song. It's interesting how much you can tell about a person from their list of perfect songs. For one thing, it tells you what kind of music is really their favorite - and it usually isn't "everything" like everyone says (I think we all listen to a little bit of "everything" these days - but that doesn't make everything your favorite). This particular discussion also reminded me about how no one I hang out with seems to listen to the same things I do. Interesting. Incidentally, the list of perfect songs I came up with on Sunday can be found in the appendix to this blog post (or in other words, in the small print at the bottom).

The very next day I was walking to class with my usual headphones on and the above-mentioned song, "Utilities," by The Weakerthans, came on. And for the first time, that song was perfect. Personally it'd never been my favorite song from their new album - I fell in love with the acoustic version a while ago and this one had just never done it for me - but for some reason on Monday morning this version of this song was just...perfect. I swear I almost started crying on my way to class at like 9 o' clock in the morning, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one. The sound, the voice, the oddly hopeful musical interlude contrasting with the melancholy lyrics; everything just came together under that refrain of "make me something somebody can use." I won't go into a lot of details right now, but I've been through some things lately and somehow that song just fit amazingly. It was like John K. Samson came to me, took everything I was going through, and created out of it 4 minutes and 35 seconds of total connectivity. Which he might've - and I couldn't blame him, because who wouldn't jump at the chance to encapsulate my feelings? Anyway, it was the perfect illustration of what it means to have a perfect song.

So thank you, John K. Samson. You've reminded me again how the perfect song on the suckiest day may not make everything better, but it does make it seem a lot more meaningful. (And sometimes you kind of feel like you're in a movie, which is fun.)

Julie's Impromptu List of Perfect Songs (as compiled Sunday, 8/21):
"None of the Above" - The Weakerthans
"Virtute the Cat Explains Her Departure" - The Weakerthans
"Left and Leaving" - The Weakerthans
"I Suffer This Like a Dream" - The Paperbacks
"Books as Furniture" - The Paperbacks
"The Devil Drives" - Murder By Death
"Further North" - Jets to Brazil
"Empty" - Ray LaMontagne
"Can't Get Enough of Your Love" - Barry White
At this point I stopped listing, I think because the conversation changed (nothing derails a conversation like the casual mention of Barry White). Could've gone on for a long time though...maybe someday I'll try to list them all, because that sounds like a fun exercise.

I Like to Make Lists

"Favourites from Plimpton's list of objects thrown by Rangers fans: soup cans, a persimmon, eggs, a folding chair and a dead rabbit." - The Weakerthans, Elegy for Gump Worsley

Things I started out saying as a joke that have now become a part of my regular vocabulary, making it so that every time I open my mouth I just want to mock myself:

• "Yo."
• "Word."
• "Sup?" and "Whattup?"
• "Cello" in place of "Hello" in phrases such as "cello, you got a bass"*
• "Like"**
• "So totally" or its more pernicious variant, "Like, so totally."
• "Whatev."
  
• "Samwich" instead of "Sandwich."
• Shakespearean-sounding words and phrases such as "Verily," "Doth," "Hath," "Quoth," "Whilst," and the like.***
  
• "Ain't" and its close friend "ain't no."
• "More better," "More bigger," "Biggerer," and other inappropriate uses of the suffix -er.
• Comebacks involving "your mom" and "your face."
  

Words I like enough to insert into my daily speech even if they make me sound ridiculously pretentious:

• Pernicious
• Non sequitur
• Loquacious
• Hyperbole (or Hyperbolic)
• Quintessential
• Dionysian
• Machiavellian
• Didactic
• Eschatological
• Dissemble
• Ginormous****

Things I like that some people judge me for:

• Dogs in clothes
• Unicorns
• Pink things
• Makeup
• 4-inch Heels
• Sword fighting
• Cheesy teen romantic comedies
• Justin Timberlake and others of his ilk
  
• Spice Girls
• Spider-Man comic books
• Video games
• America's Next Top Model
• "Modern" Art, including Abstract Art
• Taking pictures of myself

None of these lists are meant to be all-inclusive, I'd like to make that distinction now. Anyway, that's it for today.

*Watch School of Rock. Just do it.
**But it was in like 5th grade so by now it's an inextricable part of my vocabulary.
***A while back someone knocked on my door and I actually shouted, "Hark, who calls? - er, I mean, who's there?" Very embarrassing.
****Okay, so this one doesn't make me sound pretentious so much as give me away as a Will Ferrell fan.

New AND Improved!

Tired of my old blog template, I have sought out and customized this one. Hurray! It's dark, it's edgy, it's moody...just the right backdrop for a blog apparently entering its rebellious teen years*. You'll notice also, assuming you've ever read the blog before, that I changed the title. The simple reason for this is because the old title "Beaucephalus Beauregard III," while fanciful, made positively no sense. So read, my friends. Read and enjoy. Especially because I can't guarantee that it'll look like this for long.

In other news, I'm trying out Netflix** and have just discovered that I can watch all the seasons of "The Office" (US version) on my laptop anytime I feel like it. So you might not see me for a while, that's what I'm trying to say. Woo-hoo!

*What does that even mean?!
**And they didn't even pay me to link to their site...yet. Anyone from Netflix out there reading?