You are Very Beautiful Children

You Are A Very Beautiful: Standard Day

2012-01-26T17:01:00.003-07:00

Do you see a pattern?
(I am in blue)

You Are a Very Beautiful: 2012

2012-01-10T12:35:00.007-07:00

The Morrills 2012

This year my goals mostly involve inner-self-improvement. And my motto of the year shall be as follows:

"I can do things how and when I want to."

This is not as insolent as it sounds--or at least I hope it's not. I am just tired of beating myself up for feeling like the way I handle things is uncustomary, and therefore, wrong. And I also am tired of making myself feel guilty for not doing things when other people seem to do them (I have mostly not let this bother me anyway, as I got braces at nearly 18 years old, and graduated college at almost 25 years old, and in the land of Utah, I got married in my LATE 20s. Sacrilege!)

For Tom, he is being a little more empirical with his/our goals. Basically, it's measurable results or nothing. This is probably a better idea. Mine all have to do with things that I can't physically measure. The metric is either feeling warm and fuzzy or greasy and slimy. Not exactly something Sherlock Holmes would sanction.

Speaking of which, reading, watching and possibly ingesting all forms of Sherlock Holmes is one HUGE 2012 goal for both me and my husband. My brother Mason made that even a little more possible this year by gifting us the full Sherlock Holmes anthology for Christmas.

Next on the list is to eat my daily allotment of fruits and vegetables.

Also, I plan to start taking the Kardashian vitamins everyday. That isn't a crack. There really are Kardashian vitamins, and I bought them. I didn't know they were Kardashian vitamins until we got home. Oh, well.

I plan to write one page of my screenplay a day (and that's a minimum requirement).

I fully plan to run a 5k this year. I write this here with great trepidation. I have now committed myself in public writing. My pulse races.

Lastly, I plan to eat a lot more of these this year:

(Annie's Organic Cheddar Bunnies)

There are - naturally - many more detailed goals for this year, and perhaps I will feel brave enough to commit them to print soon.

In the meantime, I'd LOVE to hear about some of your goals. Please share. Heaven knows I just did.

You Are A Very Beautiful: Harboring

2012-01-09T10:19:00.006-07:00

We are aiding and abetting a missionary this week. My younger brother Mason is serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints for the next two years. He is serving in Washington, D.C.

(Baby Mason. Lecturing at Cambridge.)

With the socio-political climate being what it is, this should be an interesting and wonderful two years for him. He will also be greatly missed by our family and anyone who knows the kid. He's the most joyful guy.

(Adult Mason. So Bill Murray)

In the mean time, Tom and I are taking our guardianship very seriously. We commenced with a rather easy and delicious dinner (if I do say so myself), followed-up with an intense game of dominoes, and concluded with frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity (a gift Tom brought back from NYC).

And now...picture proof!

PS) For anyone interested, I will give a step-by-step instruction blog on how to make our dinner from last night--Chicken Cornbread Pie.

You're a Very Beautiful: Holiday Hunger Games

2012-01-06T10:49:00.007-07:00

We played a lot of games over the Christmas break. Morrills and Brannings, apparently, like games. More than games, we appear to like competition. More than competition we appear to like trash talking. More than trash talking we appear to get our panties so wadded up that we forget we're playing these 'games' for 'fun'. We all apologize, we all laugh, everyone gets their turn eating a little crow, and dishing out a little crow, and then we go to bed happy. Most of the time.

(A particularly crazy hearts hand I had)

The Morrill's really like Hearts and the Brannings really like Dominoes. It doesn't matter which one we're playing, There Will Be- Almost- Blood each time we play. Tom and I do not spare each other either.

Our last night, I reveal in shame, I got pretty angry at my husband for passing me some gnarly cards in Hearts, and then, giving me the queen of spades in the same round (the ultimate doom in the game of Hearts). I didn't talk to him for two rounds. I felt justified.

Three rounds later, I passed him some gnarly cards, and then, with the help of his dear mother, I dashed his hopes of shooting the moon. I felt justified again because he was in

the lead. He didn't see it that way that time around (understandably) and once again, the cycle of crow eating and crow dishing came around with a vengeance. He wouldn't talk to me, I tried to give him a back rub (it always sort of works). His father had to

remind us that "This is how the game is played." Which is as true as true gets, even if it bites the big one to lose sometimes.

Dominoes with my family is not much different. Anytime someone takes the lead, we accuse that person of cheating, sorcery and poor sportsmanship. None of which ever apply, except for maybe sorcery (the most logical conclusion).

I love the holidays and I love holiday games. And I love learning about the human condition during them.

A list of games we played this Holiday Season:

Farkle (Thanks Parkin Family)

Dominoes

Call of Duty: Black Ops Zombies

Helicopter Landing Courses (really fun)

Hearts

Shuffleboard

Here are pictures of our fun holiday adventures. We had a great 2011 and we're excited for 2012:

You Are a Very Beautiful: When You're Sick

2011-12-18T14:19:00.002-07:00

(The View)

My husband woke up at 6:30 in the morning to buy me ginger ale... without my asking or expecting or even hoping.

I had been experiencing the effects of what we think was an angry, vigilante chicken sandwich and I had very physical results to prove it.

Tom did this along with all of his other horrifically busy tasks of the day. Quite honestly, these next three days for him will be daunting at best.

My husband is a wonderful example to me the kindness that I should cultivate within myself. Such a busy person exhibiting consistently thoughtful behavior.

As I have stayed in the bed all day, contemplating him, his goodness, and occasionally thinking of how bad it is to be truly sick, I have been hit with inspiration: No excuses for not serving others, no excuses for not cultivating talents, no excuses. Unless, of course you're truly unwell and the bathroom has become your BFF or more appropriate, frienemy.

So for the other days of the year when I am in good health, there are no excuses.

Well, not great ones anyway

You Are a Very Beautiful: Embarrassment at the Gym

2011-12-14T20:50:00.005-07:00

I am a creature of comfort. It is so easy for me to go back to my house after work and never workout. So, in getting to know and preempt myself, I have implemented 3 steps to browbeat me into exercising:

1) Telling myself that working out is a GIFT I give myself (this has actually never really worked, but I keep telling myself anyway)

2) Telling myself that I can eat more of what I like if I run more (sometimes works, but mostly, doesn't. I eat what I want anyway).

And the most effective?

3) Going to the gym straight from work (I pack my workout clothes).

#3 means that I don't even get a chance to walk back into my inviting apartment where I see the movies I want to watch, or the book I want to read, or the craft project I've left halfway done (OK, 1/3 done). It means that I go straight to the gym.

Yesterday, I packed my little gym bag with every intention of working out. I was happy to do so, in fact. I have needed the pick me up, and the weather doesn't help that.

So, I walk into the gym, go to the women's dressing room to change, and find that I didn't pack my workout pants. I only have jeans. Uncomfortable ones. I had all the makings of a workout outfit except for the one key element that makes running, elipiticaling and biking possible (comfortable). What would I do?

Well, I'm glad you asked. I committed a fashion and gym faux pas all in one. Wearing my workout top and my running shoes, I ran and biked in my jeans. I also forgot to pack anything to keep my bangs out of my face, so I looked like a drowned rat when the sweat started to poor down my face and doused my fringe.

(I looked way less cool than this)

People stared. They tried to focus their attention on their gym equipment, but they just couldn't do it, the little pharisees. They stared, and some stared thrice. I suppose I was staring back, so revenge.

But guess what? I could have gone home and resigned myself to a session of Call of Duty: Black Ops Zombies with my brothers. I didn't though. I grunted it out.

And then it hit me....

I'm so glad I'm married. Because if I had not been married, my embarrassment that single, attractive men might find me less attractive would have crippled me and caused me to go home. I was that shallow and self-conscious at one point.

NO MORE. I am not above looking ridiculous to get my workout on. Which led me to another breakthrough:

Maybe I do like working out? Maybe my health has started to mean something to me? Maybe I enjoy getting my heart rate up? I had to enjoy it to not drive back home at the first signs of pantlessness.

Those jerks at the gym will just have to deal with it. I'm sure in their own circles they have tweeted or fbooked about it. So, bright side? I'm famous.

You Are a Very Beautiful: Mumford and Sons

2011-12-13T15:13:00.002-07:00

A tune fit for today:

You Are a Very Beautiful: Christmas with The Carpenters

2011-12-12T11:59:00.003-07:00

Is there anything more comforting than the sound of Karen Carpenter’s deeply felt vocals on “White Christmas”? Her melancholy, honey-thick voice singing, “But it’s December the 24^th, and I’m longing to be up north.” Makes my heart catch in my throat every time. Every time. I didn’t even grow up in the North, but I think the sentiment is universal: Longing to be somewhere nostalgic and loving.

Or how about, “Merry Christmas Darling”? Did you know that song was written in 1946 by a choir director named Frank Pooler? Karen and Richard Carpenter were in that choir and in 1970 Richard composed the music and Karen sang the ballad. More haunting? Pooler wrote the words while he was serving in WWII and missing his sweetheart terribly. Ever since learning that, I get more emotional each time I hear it. That sort of longing at Christmas is entirely different than most of us will ever understand.

I grew up with The Carpenters Christmas Portrait album, as I trust so many of you have. In fact, we were not ‘allowed’ to listen to any Christmas music until we had started with The Carpenters.

Something about Karen’s way of singing those songs makes every one of them sound like she and her brother wrote them all. She makes most other singer’s versions sound like regurgitations. Some of them are…and bad regurgitations at that. Glee’s Christmas renditions are not good. Sorry Gleekers. Their versions of Christmas classics almost make my ears grow legs and gallop off my head.

I never knew Karen Carpenter. In fact, she was dead before I was born. But she was cool. Even the nerdy, vanillaness of The Carpenters is cool. Strange, I guess there is something edgy and fresh about people simply expressing their true talent with no apologies or excuses.

Merry Christmas.

You're a Very Beautiful: Cool Runnings

2011-12-07T12:51:00.010-07:00

Cool is something that I have observed but never cared to analyze or acquire. Also, I'm not cool enough to acquire it. I have never really striven to be cool, but to be accepted and desired? Plenty. But that's as uncool as it comes. Cool people have no outward craving to be accepted or desired. An inward craving, maybe. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before I unduly give away my findings, I invite you to join me in this silly (for leisure purposes only) list of cool. As you read, please consider what 'cool' means to you:

Cool, by my estimation, is a mixture of James Dean and The Hollies "Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress". I assume she was a real person.

Cool is a couple of friends of mine that I will conveniently not mention the names of.

Cool is being self-possessed and contained. Someone could literally spit in a cool persons eye, but they would just wipe their face, like Atticus Finch and walk away.

Cool is never being intimidated. Ever. Who could ever intimidate a cool person? Maybe God, but that's it.

Cool is using a word like, "Fine" to cover every base of your current state of well-being. Cool is firmly leaving your answer to "Fine", and never, ever expounding. No matter how much you friends or loves ones beg you to.

Cool is George Harrison being the least popular Beatle, and not caring. In so doing, he was the coolest Beatle.

Cool is Mick Jagger hanging out with his 93 year old school teacher father. It's also not being able to get no satisfaction.

Cool is a teacher who humiliated me in front of my peers when I was younger, and without even flinching; without ever acknowledging the folly or the emotional toll. It was cool for sure. I write this without any irony or sarcasm. It really was. I could not have done it, and so I know it had to be cool. Did the teacher ever apologize? That brings me to my next point--

Cool people don't apologize. Unless they want to, in which case, they'll make you feel uncool just by their apology.

Cool people don't poop. It's true. The book's a lie--not everyone poops.

Cool people also don't trip (at least in public).

Cool people make messy look like clean....or, at least they make it look cool. People who aren't

cool and messy just look like slobs.

Cool people don't usually have bed frames. They sleep like this --

Cool people don't need advice. They don't ask for it, and they don't require it. I probably admire this trait the most.

Cool people do what they shouldn't do, even if it's really bad news. Like Bonnie and Clyde. Cool, but crazy. And dead, for that matter.

Cool people don't get broken up with, they break up. And sometimes they do it by simply moving away. Lone cowboys don't need to give explanations.

Cool people don't obsess over or really play sports, but if and when they do, they're Babe Ruth.

Babe Ruth was cool.

Cool people aren't afraid of horror movies, or sounds, or things that go bump in the night. If the thing was real, they still wouldn't flinch. They would be like that guy in Jurassic Park, "Clever Girl." and again, dead.

In fact, come to think of it, a lot of cool people are dead or about to die.

Cool people have Facebook accounts, but they rarely, if ever, post anything on it. For a profile picture? It's abstract art, a political cartoon, or a photo of them at a far distance. Interestingly, these cool people are often tagged in a lot of photos by others on Facebook. That's because uncool people want to 'up' their cool factor by posting pictures of cool people.

Cool people have Bette Davis eyes.

Bette Davis was cool because she spelled her name 'Bette' instead of "Betty."

Uber cool movie stars don't ever watch their own movies. But they do act in about 3-4 a year.

Cool people are never, ever, ever wound up. The only thing that might even remotely wind them up is a huge earthquake or hurricane, in which they will very nobly, and calmly head to the distaster site and be a one-man or one-woman rescue team.

You could tell a cool person that someone said something really mean about them, and there would be no response. And if there was one, it would probably be, "Everyone's entitled to their opinion." BANGARANG! So freggin' cool.

Cool people don't say 'freggin'.

Cool people will surprise you. They'll show up to events that you thought they'd never be caught dead at, just because you thought they'd never be caught dead there. They wear clothes you would never expect them to wear, and they may even tell you that they love a movie that you thought everyone agreed was only decent or stupid at best. Until cool person came around, you had always thought that Homeward Bound was just a nice little kids movie. Little did you know that it's the most transcendent movie ever made.

Now that I have rather thoroughly listed my estimations about cool people, I have reached a conclusion:

I am profoundly uncool.

Please feel free to share your ponderings on coolness. Unless of course you're cool, in which case you shouldn't be able to define your coolness. It's your essence.

You Are a Very Beautiful: Stephen King Hates Me

2011-12-06T09:40:00.006-07:00

I believe that Stephen King would hate my writing. And he would be right--subjectively and objectively. I hate my own writing, but I like my progress. I'm not sure Stephen King would even like that. Professor King would also criticize that I seem to write with a brown nose-erly bent. But I'm pretty sure even Stephen King writes with some hope that his favorite authors of bygone days would give him a heavenly nudge on the chin.

Anyway, I feel ashamed of myself most of the time. I don't write my own stuff as often or as well as I wish I did. I write at work, and I write this blog, but when it comes to my own professional writing, I'm all out of straws. What gives? I have this thing I love to do that I'm always talking myself out of doing.

Not a great writer, but a wonderful excuse-maker. Please put this on my headstone.

Stephen King said, "Talent can’t help itself; it roars along in fair weather or foul, not sparing the fireworks. It gets emotional. It struts its stuff."

These kinds of eloquent - if a little gushy - statements pour salt into the wounds of my self-awareness. If you're truly good at something shouldn't it just shoot from your fingertips and be inescapable?

People frequently say that you're not a writer unless you're writing all the time; unless you're sleeping, drinking and eating the written word. I would add submitting to this list.

Purists say that writing is the thing, and that being published is just a selfish desire to be popular and validated. I disagree. Those who want to call writing their vocation have no excuse for keeping it hidden. You can't bake all day long, never let anyone have a taste, never open up shop, and then be considered a professional baker. A writer can't sit on their biscuit, think about writing all day, and say, "I'm a professional writer." Or, they can, but in that case, every person who's ever held a pen or pencil, owns a cellphone, or has signed for a UPS package could say they're a writer. And how! Think about how many texts a person sends in a day? You could compile a novel out of that. And with the juicy things people say in texts, it could be more telling of the human experience than anything Cormac McCarthy has ever published:

"Thx, r u coming 2nite?"
"No, I'm going to br8k up w/Dan 2nite",
"He's a #$&@."
"4 Reelz."

(Since I've changed my cellphone number, I get a lot of texts from the friends and family of the previous owner of my number. The content of a lot of these texts could be used in a court of law. I should submit them to John Grisham.)

Anyway, I feel everyday I am standing before this crossroads. One direction that beckons, "Turn this way if you want to suck it up and finally be a real writer" and the other says, "It's OK, stay in Bedford Falls forever, George Bailey."

In closing, a letter:

Dear Stephen King,

Please don't hate my writing, and please don't hate me when I vacation in Bedford Falls too long.

Best,
Courtney B. Morrill

PS) I admire Stephen King, and everyone should read his articles in The New York Times; writer or not.

You Are A Very Beautiful: Engagement Mania!

2011-12-05T19:19:00.013-07:00

My brother and his girlfriend just got engaged over the weekend. I'm so happy for them! Emphasis on the exclamation point. Man is a giddy thing. Isn't that what Shakespeare (or Anonymous) said? I think getting engaged, or the proposal itself, is the most out of body experience you'll ever have, but in a great way. I wish them the best in their planning and execution. New sister! Yea-yuh! That's 5 Branning girls. Prepare yourself world. Also, my wonderful cousin Crosby got engaged this last week as well, and I'm so happy for them, too. It's going to be wedding season again.

My Brother and his Fiance Jordan

On a related note, one year ago today, Tom proposed to me. I know that your engagement is not the one most people anniversarize, but for me, it was one of the best days of my life (a close second to our wedding day) so I like to give it credit. Also, I LOVE to anniversarize...everything. "Babe, this is the anniversary of when we first had that cranberry sandwich two months ago..." "Babe, this is the anniversary of when we first ate at Chick-Fil-A together," etc.

(I never posted this picture of us at dinner the night we got engaged. It made Tom sad. But there was a LOT going on that night. So here is the picture of me with the ring the night we got engaged.)

Tom is not with me on this 'special' anniversary, so here's a slice of life--a text transmission between the two of us.

(I'm in blue)

We were married on April 30, 2011. Tom might have already misremembered that recently. That's why the joke is funnier than it appears. Or, it is to us.

You Are A Very Beautiful: 7 Months

2011-11-29T16:30:00.001-07:00

Tom and I are coming up on our 7 month anniversary. How quickly time flies. Some of my friends (hi guys!) commented that it seems like the wedding just happened. It did...7 months ago.

(Unfortunately, this is the most recent couple picture of us.)

(Our first Christmas tree)

Has anyone else noticed, in an interesting turn of events, that you actually learn a little more about yourself in marriage then you do about the other person? At least initially. That seems selfish, but I'm referring to my flaws and habits in this case. Tom, too. We were musing on this the other day during a walk. He said, "I realized that men just take things differently than women, and that sometimes I still act like I'm in the company of men...and that's a no-no." I wish I could have retorted with something really witty or feminist instead of my actual response: "Yep."

I have to admit it, I've never felt more female then being married. Does that make sense? Marriage brings out all of the standard "boys do this, girls do this" nonsense (truthiness) that we try to avoid when we're single and trying to be rock stars. I'm still trying to be a rock star, but some days I fail when I start crying about something Tom said that was actually supposed to be a compliment. That is NOT rock star. Mick Jagger doesn't care what NOBODY says about him. NOBODY! But this isn't necessarily boys vs. girls traits since the majority of women I know don't respond like I do to such things.

You see, it turns out that I cry about most things he says. And that's not his fault. It's neither of our faults. It's some sort of marriage mystique that I can't figure out. When I was single and he said something that made me sensitive, I would just get super rock star and wreck his hotel room and throw a TV in his pool. Marriage changes that. Because it's MY hotel room and MY pool now. This is a poor analogy that I'm not even following anymore...you shouldn't either.

Anyway, emotionally speaking, marriage has changed my life and rendered me more self-aware. Tom will have to speak for himself I suppose, but I will say this--we have big fun. He make-a my dreams come true. Here's to a lot more anniversaries that will far exceed 7 months.

PS) Sometimes on the eve of an anniversary, a perp breaks into your car and your husband spends hours cleaning up the glass while you're at work. These are realities. And husbands, at this time, deserve a lot of love.

Sparkle Nails

2011-11-26T12:34:00.000-07:00

Ever since my twenties I have tried (and failed) to steer clear of trends, I find that most trends will come back to haunt you in a bad way (camo pants in high school anyone?). This holiday season, I’m ditching my curmudgeonly view on trends for something that I quite literally can’t resist. I’ve got a fever, and the only cure is sparkle nails.

Something about being a writer and typing all day long makes me yearn to see my nails in a different light... a disco ball light if you will.

So, although it’s uber trendy and you’ll see it on just about everyone this season, I just want to add my seal of approval to this trend as well. Sparkles, in small doses, are never a bad thing. It makes me feel like my nails have joined a beauty pageant and they win every time.

You Are a Very Beautiful: A Healthy Recipe

2011-11-23T11:25:00.000-07:00

I give you....my first recipe!

I am no health nut, although some of my posts recently may sound like I’m pretty health conscious (gym membership, juicing….). Usually my day goes like this: Healthy sensible breakfast, somewhat unhealthy lunch (I get starving at work, and let's just say that legumes don't speak to me in those moments), BAAAAAAD dinner (which =’s tasty dinner) followed by unhealthy snacks during our movie or television viewings. It’s a vicious cycle. But I do have one or two go-to healthy meal options, one that I share with you now. I am sincerely hoping that you guys can offer your own healthy recipes, specifically so the hubs and I don’t bungle all of our hard work at the gym (or not so hard work). Also, any tips you may have on NOT eating like Taz after work would be greatly appreciated as well (yes, I did just make a reference to Taz. Haven't done that since I was....9? When I'm sure I referenced him 6 times a day).

Salmon Spinach Salad

I’m sure someone else has done something similar to this salad (maybe even exactly) but I’m not going to check, because it made me feel like I created a recipe for the first time in my life. That person will have to rip it out of my cold dead hands:

Ingredients:
Two handfuls of Baby Spinach
2 Tablespoons of Plain Greek Yogurt
A half a cup of Almonds
A Small Pouch of Pink Wild Caught Salmon (any brand will do)
Tablespoon (or two) Balsamic Vinegar
Tablespoon of Olive Oil

Place the spinach on a plate. In a separate bowl, mix the contents of the salmon pouch with the Greek yogurt (yes, I find I REALLY like Greek yogurt as an ingredient now). After it’s thoroughly mixed, place it over the spinach (I like to do mine in a big ball like an ice cream scoop), sprinkle the almonds over, and drizzle the balsamic and olive oil.

Voila! A very simple, healthy, and delicious salad. The salmon and greek yogurt are what help satisfy you. Let’s face it, most salads leave you hungry in about 20 minutes--sometimes instantly in my case.

I’m in desperate need of more healthy (YUMMY) recipes. Many of you have been doing this longer than I have and I would love to get a feel for some of your go-to healthy recipes. Please share! Also, the simpler the better.

Love,

Courtney

You Are Very Beautiful: I Have a Problem...

2011-11-13T19:28:00.007-07:00

...Well, two problems but one of them is a direct result of the first problem.

I have unexpectedly become a collector (and user) of female beauty products. They are beginning to overtake our bathroom cabinet--and it's a tall, free-standing cabinet. This is a) not fair to my husband and b) not going to work anymore. Use the mental image of *Violet Beauregard gradually turning into a human blueberry to fully understand the volatile nature of this cabinet.

So, besides the fact that I have gone through the cabinet and committed a mass genocide on all unnecessary/old products (I'm sorry, it had to be done, temporary pink hair color from 2002), I am now left with the stuff I still need...OK, or want, *grumble*.

My makeup is the biggest issue so far. It's outgrown my little makeup bag, and it just won't stay neatly in the little tackle box I once used. So, I have decided to store it in the nearest drawer to the sink. But I want to store it neatly.

This is where you come in, friends. How do you organize such items? Have any of you ever stored makeup or beauty products in a drawer before? Have you done it neatly? Men can pitch in too. You KNOW you like to organize your man stuff like beard trimmers and table saws, and, and...yeah.

So far, I am considering some kind of Ikea apparatus to add to the drawer. Something that creates compartments maybe?

How do you store your indulgent beauty products? May I copy you?

*my cousin informed me that I initially used the wrong name. I wrote Veruca Salt. Careless of me.

You are a very beautiful: My First Poll

2011-11-11T12:55:00.009-07:00

(Shameless Picture of an Adorable Dog in a Santa Hat... for your trouble)

Since the holidays are upon us, and I'm beginning my descent into Christmas shopping(yes, descent is the proper word), I'm trying to really get to the heart of what makes good Christmas gifts this year. So, I'm doing some research. This poll is meant to gauge what you think were some of your better presents, but if you would like to expound via comment, that would help me get a better sense of the kinds of gifts that have brought you the most joy over the years. And no, this isn't a love language test; I'm not trying to figure out if you're greedy or materialistic or really down to earth (I'm assuming we're all a little everything). Just want to figure out what kinds of presents really speak to people.

What Was the Best Christmas Gift You Ever Received?

You Are A Very Beautiful: Marriage Questions

2011-11-10T12:48:00.010-07:00

So, I’m married. And I assume most of my readers are friends or family of mine who know this only too well. But for those random readers who got here because I inadvertently used some keyword like “Stone Mountain Georgia,” I announce that I’m married for your benefit.

Marriage is spectacular. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in some ways— ways that I didn’t know existed. But what about the little idiosyncrasies of marriage that we don’t expect? And not just the toilet seat (I think we’ve all evolved).

I’ll get the ball rolling by revealing one of my struggles: post-marriage friends. I have friends, you have friends, we all have friends, but for those marrieds out there, and those contemplating marriage….

QUESTION: what exactly do you do to retain and/or make friends post-marriage?

Part of me feels like the social me died. As if my online social media presence is the only one I have anymore, and the real me that goes to work every day and tries to think of what to make for meals has closed her doors to her friend business. Only thing is, I didn't. I don't think so anyway?

After marriage, people sort of talk about you like you're dead, or like you don’t enjoy the things you used to enjoy. Truth is, I will ALWAYS enjoy movies nights and I will ALWAYS enjoy 7 hour gab fests, and I will always dislike the grocery store and post office.

Some may say that making friends with other newlyweds is the way to go. Well, it’s a challenge, because you're all trying to navigate this world of new found ‘unity’ with your spouse and a sense of identity displacement with yourself. Instead of hanging out with other couples, you ultimately just do nothing with anyone but your spouse which usually entails marathons of Raising Hope. Fun times, but consistently? A little anti-social.

I am not sure if this is a male or female problem (or if it’s a problem at all), because I don’t know if both men and women experience this after marriage, or just women, or just me. And also, my husband has not been anything but encouraging of my efforts to make friends. So what is it? I’m interested in hearing your thoughts, dear friends. Have you found yourself in a similar position? If so, have you done anything about it? Made a stand? Or did you decide that it’s all a part of marriage and ties must be cut?

I’m learning here.

You Are a Very Beautiful: Just Workin' On My Fitness

2011-11-07T18:06:00.005-07:00

Tom and I folded and got a community gym membership. For the record, this is the first time in my life I’ve had a gym membership. Remember how this blog is about new things I’m learning to do? Well, here’s a new one. Now, although I have been to gyms before and used most all of the equipment, I have always been disenfranchised when it comes to actual gym memberships. So, now we’re fully franchised (I don’t think that’s the right word either time). We try to get there when we can.

As many blog posts give the impression that the writer lives some sort of charmed life, I offer you full disclosure:

We are NOT gymmies, yogis, pilaters, or any other fitness proficient moniker (most of which I just created). But we do attend and try our hardest to work out for longer than 30 minutes. I get bored really quickly.

Question: What do you guys do to keep yourselves motivated and un-bored at the gym or in your workouts? Or how do you quit staring at the genetically improbable hard bodies around you?

There was a girl at the gym last time that had every man, woman and child staring at her. She had a great body and was wearing almost nothing. I would have been appalled if I wasn’t staring, too. I did stop looking and roll my eyes though. Yeah! That’ll show her!

You Are a very Beautiful Whiteout

2011-11-05T23:32:00.003-06:00

Today was a pretty perf day. It started with waking up to a whiteout and Tom making us delicious corn meal pancakes and hot chocolate (why yes, I did eat my daily caloric intake at breakfast). And then we enjoyed ourselves with early Christmas shopping (even though Tom's face doesn't appear as overjoyed as mine; I promise he had a good time).

I recently wrote an article about holiday budgeting ...should have perused that today.

You Are a Very Beautiful: Happy All Hallows Eve!

2011-10-31T14:53:00.013-06:00

If I've been little quiet over the weekend it's because I had one of the best ones ever. Tom is a great surpriser. And the reason I throw caution to the wind and make up a word like surpriser is because he truly is. He has surprised me time and time again, and this weekend was no different. So, in an effort not to bore you with obnoxious details, I will simply disclose that I came home from work on Monday afternoon to find this greeting me at the front door....

The letter told me to pack a bag and trust him. When he showed up later in the afternoon, I was excited and nervous (some of the things he told me to pack sounded like we might have been going bear hunting). He ended up taking me to Park city for the weekend. We stayed in a wonderful hotel, enjoyed wonderful spa services and thoroughly enjoyed the gorgeous fall weather of Park city. Call me Zsa Zsa.

Afterwords, he indulged me by agreeing to one of my won't-take-no-for-an-answer ideas. We went to a beautiful pumpkin patch in Farmington, Utah. It was better than I could've expected (sans the apple cider, which was glaringly absent). We made out like pumpkin bandits. Let's just say that I would have gladly sat in the pumpkin patch waiting for the great pumpkin with Linus. That Sally was such a murmurer.

It was a wonderful weekend.

Happy Halloween to all! I hope you all dress in something really topical this year like, myspace or something. It's so popular right now.

You Are a Very Beautiful: It’s That Time of Year When…

2011-10-28T14:42:00.004-06:00

…I dust off my limited, somewhat comical, crafty side. I have a theory about myself that I could ruin a craft project that involved no more than popsicle sticks and glue. Why do I have this theory about myself? I suppose it’s because it’s a fact. I believe firmly that I can take something beautiful, cutesy, or chic and turn it into something that even grandmother’s won’t display (speaking of which, did you watch Dead Grandma this week? I directed this one. Give me a gold star, mama!).

In spite of my painful awareness of my craft deficiency, I have pushed on for my future children’s sake, or at least to prove that I do in fact have estrogen flowing in my body.

A few years back my friend Heather helped me delve into a craft project that I felt confident I couldn’t screw up: crocheting. Turns out you can screw it up so much worse than most things, but I didn’t know that at the time.

Over the years, I have crocheted flower buttons, makeup bags, hats, gloves, and of course, scarves—with each one having their own trial and error process. Some of them never came out of the error bit, and I STILL gave them as gifts. Waste not, want not.

So, as we come upon this colder season, I pull out my crochet hooks and my crazy assortment of yarn balls, and start thinking of new things to crochet. I really want to crochet a piano keyboard scarf this year, but I feel that it might be out of my area of expertise (that word and I seldom go hand in hand).

So, anyway you slice it: Crochet! I'm coming for you! Watch out. And for anyone interested, I will post instructions and my progress.

You Are a Very Beautiful Just Before Dusk

2011-10-26T18:15:00.006-06:00

[yesterday, from my apartment]

Something about this time in the evening gets me positively wacky. I become so nostalgic for things that I have never even experienced, like I lived in a Norman Rockwell painting at one point. The sunset casts beautiful shadows upon Salt Lake City, with contrasting orange hues. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to write a film noir.

I am returning to my scripts again. I have been trying to make sense of the leftovers from my last manic writing sessions. This is why we finish what we start, kids; because when we come back later, it's going to horrify and perplex us.

Today I listened to some of John August's podcast on screenwriting; something that also puts me in a strangely nostalgic mood. It's not as if I've listened to John August before, and certainly not in my childhood. But something about fall is haunting that way. While listening to him, I found myself wanting to write stories about the East Coast, and my childhood. Is anyone who reads this thing from the east coast? If you are, is it safe to assume that you feel my longing for the east during the fall? The smell of foliage, the look of the changing leaves...everything.

Well, that's where I'm vacationing in my brain. Won't you join me? And for those of you who live on the east coast, won't you open your doors to us? We promise we won't occupy your wall street or anything... we'll just enjoy your leaves.

You are a very beautiful iFacelift

2011-10-24T15:53:00.006-06:00

I recently got my first iPhone. If you're going to sellout*, shouldn't you do it with an iPhone? Coldplay should have considered that.

An iPhone you can have conversations with? Even better. In fact I have just dictated this entire blog post to Siri. If that isn't cool, then I don't know what is.

Cool? Yes. Lazy? Also, yes.

But how great is it that I can now quickly and efficiently dictate posts so that I update more frequently? Now if I could only conjure some interesting things to write about.

So here's a question: what would you like to see you on this blog? I'm serious, what would you like me to write about? What would you like us to learn together? What would you like to read instead of my almost meaningless drivel?

I can tell you this: I am willing to learn just about anything. And if you guys would like to learn them with me, even better! I am all about enlarging myself recently and no, that does not have anything to do with a body part augmentation. It just means that if you guys think this blog should be about cycling classes, then I will probably have to take up cycling.

So I am proposing different sections to this blog. One for recipes, one for new activities, one for arts and crafts, one for travel, one for my adventures in screenwriting, one about fashion or beauty (a section where you will hear crickets chirping) and one for personal life stuff (which is probably better left to my journal).

All in favor? Say ... something.

*I really just mean I sold out my 'dumb phone', meaning, my non-smart phone. He made phone calls, sent texts, set alarms, took notes, and had a calculator, so I always thought he was kind of smart. RIP Samsung.

You are a Very Beautiful Crisp

2011-10-24T11:45:00.003-06:00

The following is an unpaid advertisement for honey crisp apples:

Honey crisp apples are the Michaelangelo, the Michael Jordan, and the Aaron Sorkin of apples. My parents first introduced me to honey crisp apples when I was visiting over the summer. I can see Eve partaking of these apples, even if unprovoked. They’re that good.

If I haven’t bragged about my husband today, I will now. Tom cuts me apples every morning so that I can snack on them at work, instead of the Dr Pepper my bosses taunt me with in the mini-fridge. Tom puts the apples in a little ziplock bag and sends me on my way. He’s like a dad-husband. And I mean that in a good way. Not like a sugar daddy, but he can be that too.

Anyway, we went to Whole Foods the other day to get me an excessive amount of candied ginger chews (there will be a post on that in the future), and we also bought some honey crisp apples and about twenty oranges (for juicing).

Here is the yumminess on my desk.

Was this a dumb post? Probably. Is this as exciting as my life gets sometimes? Yes.

You are a very beautiful Nature's Bounty

2011-10-22T23:03:00.005-06:00

Tom and I enjoyed a lovely fall morning at the farmer's market. We live across the street from it and they are on their last weeks. We're trying to savor as much as possible.

Today's trip gave me the distinct feeling that I had walked into Stars Hollow (see Gilmore Girls). There was even a troubadour playing! All we needed was a gazebo and lightening fast dialogue (don't worry, I took care of that).

Without tons of explanation, here are some pictures of the spoils of our day.

So grateful for this man and so grateful for jalapeno jelly.

With Love and Gratitude (and Peach Salsa),

Courtney

Jalepeno jelly--who knew?

Our Spoils

A scholar and a gentlemen. But mostly a good fresh juice maker.

A Farmer's Market Breakfast of Champions (w/ our own fresh squeezed orange juice).

You are a very beautiful HRH Laments

2011-10-05T17:14:00.012-06:00

What do you do when your husband leaves you for forever? You do stuff that you had to do when you were single.

WHAT? Why would I do those things again!? That's why I got married--hello! It's like the universe doesn't get this or something.

I got married so I would NEVER have to go to the post office or change my car's oil, or shower ever again. And then my husband goes on a business trip, and looks like someone forgot to get with the program.

Suddenly I've had to wake myself up--with my OWN alarm clock. I've had to make dinner--FOR ONE. I've had to go to work and slice my OWN apples before I leave. And now-- I have to hang up my own clothes.

It seems like the universe forgot that Kate Middleton and I share servants, so yeah, I've been CLEANING! And to top it all off, found out this afternoon that my early morning harpist has been let go due to budget cuts, so, happy millennium to me. What's next, I'll have to do my own jogging?

Tom, come home. That marriage license was a contract, remember? You do all the above items, and in return I look gorgeous all the time. Seems like I've kept my end up PRETTY well.

Sheesh.

Here's the view from Windsor Castle today. Pretty lonely. How will I make it through my yoga class tonight?
See? It even rained because the the sky is weeping for me. WEEPING!

You are a very beautiful The Juices are Flowing!

2011-09-27T19:00:00.006-06:00

Hi There!

Did you watch Dead Grandma last week? I hope you did. And I hope you join us again this week for our next episode, Ice Cream.

So, as per my new sisters request (new sister meaning sister in-law) I am going to try to blog a little more--she's getting better too, so that we can continue to eStalk each other (is that a website yet? Because if it isn't, I want it). As I said before, I have been getting pretty wrapped up in my other writing, but that's no excuse for keeping things silent over here. Of all my writing, this is by far the most therapeutic and honest, and that explains a lot actually. It explains why I've needed therapy lately and why I've been lying so much.

Just kidding.

So, what's new, you ask? What isn't, I say.

Turns out that I've become a juice enthusiast. Not just any juice--fresh squeezed, micro nutrient juice. I've dragged my willing husband with me on our new little adventure into juicing for health. We got our Breville Juicer in the mail and let's just say this juicer is one bad mother--shut yo' mouth. I'm just talkin' bout juicin'. [If you didn't know that that was a reference to song Shaft by Issac Hayes, I will be disappointed and you will be confused.]

Why, you ask? Well, remember that one blog post about me feeling crumby all the time? Well, about a month ago I decided to do something about it--something that didn't require drugs. And voila! The birth of Courtney and Tom's juice baby. On top of all of the other things I've been doing to get better -- and there could quite honestly be a part 1 and part 2 blog about all of that stuff-- I have decided that may some honest to goodness, no additives, pure veggie and fruit juice could do me a lot of good. And, we've been starting in the last couple of weeks (before the Breville) and it truly has. I've felt at least 85% better. Wonderful, eh?

Behold! The Beast!This... machine...is...AWESOME! I kid you not, I have never seen something do it's job this well...I don't do MY job this well. You get like 80% more juice than a regular juicer's yield and it takes roughly 5 seconds to have a complete 8 ounce glass of juice. Remember the proud grunting I used to do with my blender? Yeah, there was more of that grunting today.

Come over for a juice anytime.

You are a very beautiful Dead Grandma, Alive Me

2011-09-21T15:25:00.010-06:00

I know, I fell off the face of the blog planet again. No excuses. But I will take a vow of silence if that makes it better . . . .
. . ..

After this, though!

Tomorrow marks the launch of the web series Dead Grandma; co-written and co-directed (and perhaps acted in, shhhh!) by yours truly and my California besties.

Please make an effort to watch it. It should be up around 12pm, and for ten weeks thereafter a new episode will be comin' atcha.

As a refresher, this show meant the world to me and my friends in LA, and my sweet producer husband. Getting everything together to finally go live has had me reminiscing of on those good ol' days and the times we all shared. Below are some production and post-production pictures that have taken me down memory lane.

PLEASE tune in at www.dead-grandma.com ! PLEASE like us on facebook! PLEASE tell everyone you know about it!

The fruits of our labors at the Dead Grandma Premiere. And my last night in LA. :(

With my Mari B(hearts) and my Tiffani(flowers) at the DG premiere
w/Bff Tiffani at our Dead Grandma benefit concert

Seeing our show up on a gigantic outdoor 'screen' was epic

A little bit of group fun at Disneyland was a must

DG character "Judy" hanging out in her bedroom

One of my favorite screen captures from the show

Working hard in Pre-Production

Watching some funny casting session videos

The Cast and Crew at our first table read

We look legit don't we?

Our First Casting Session. Aren't we welcoming?

And my personal favorite of the DG gang. Nate is especially the best.

XOXO

You are a very beautiful Just the Thing

2011-08-28T10:58:00.003-06:00

Our roof is one of my favorite things about our place and our life. My little garden is thriving and having dinners up there is like living in an Italian film. Tom grills, I come up with sides, and then we we enjoy some yummy romantic time-- yummy applies to both the food and atmosphere.

Last night we enjoyed a wonderful dinner, and it was just the thing to help me start feeling better.

In other news, we're reading Stephen King's "On Writing" and I have really enjoyed it. Learning a lot. We're also reading about 17 other books right now, since Kindle has become our adopted child.

Life is really wonderful.

You're a Very Beautiful Wonder Woman's BFF Maybe?

2011-08-22T18:52:00.004-06:00

If I were a super hero right now, I would be Infection Woman.

Infection Woman uses her astonishing ailment power to fight crime and woo Bruce Wayne, but will he figure out the cure and thus end her crime fighting career? Tune in for the next INFECTION WOMAN! [a chorus of females sing] "INFECTION WO-MAN!"

Yes, I've been sick a lot lately. Not sure why. I need to be better about vitamins I suppose, maybe start taking them by syringe. Or I should get back to working out. The trouble of it is, it's hard to workout when you're sick...all...the...time!

In other news, my slow mutation into a Zombie is in it's first stages. Behold! Flesh eating bacteria:Tom has not been hitting me, I promise. This is a rare and rarely serious skin infection that I usually get when I'm sunburned. It's name: impetigo. Kind of sounds like it could be my super villain, doesn't it?

I have not been sunburned, so this is a rare occurrence of this rare skin infection.

Oh well, I'm diseased. Stay back. Oh wait, you already were.

Please play this now....

You are a very beautiful Pan the Man

2011-08-03T16:44:00.003-06:00

I hesitate saying it, but, the only reason I'm writing is because I haven't in a while. I love this blog, but lately I've been loving work. Work has included copious amounts of writing. This makes me incredibly happy. I'm a working writer (every kind of writing). I think I subconsciously realized this blog was not paying me to write it, so my updating became a little scarce.

I'm sorry, this is no way to treat you blog. You deserve to know things like why I don't like flavored greek yogurt, or how Tom and I surprisingly got passes to Seven Peaks, or pictures of how Tom's birthday went. But alas, I've been preoccupied with writing my fingers off. Besides, Robert hasn't sent me the pictures of Tom's birthday yet (that's right, ya burnt!) and I really like to spend my free time watching the first season of Raising Hope.

Did I mention Tom's gone again? I guess I didn't. Well, he is. Boring.

Today a homeless young man that looked like Rufio from Hook asked me if I knew where my pinches were. I wish I did.

You are a very beautiful Tinkerbell is mean but....

2011-07-21T13:21:00.006-06:00

I have had a crisis of passion this week. Is it ok to love doing something that other people think you're bad at? When someone says, "You're not good at this," Do you press on or give up gracefully?

On the one hand we all know the stories of someone who pushed through others' opinions to become, I dunno, Einstein or Charlie Chaplin; but on the other hand, we all know stories of say, Ed Wood, William Hung or Rebecca Black.

Aside from all of the wonderful women and young ladies in my life, can I admit that females are the worst sometimes? They say things like, "She is the stupidest, ugliest, untalented, fattest" and add, "But she's nice." That's like saying, "I just bombed Germany, but...they have good chocolate." As if the burning flesh will repair with the addendum.

And sometimes girls let their curiosity about what others think about them kill their proverbial cat. They put their nose where it's unsound to be; where it could get chopped off. See the previous paragraph for places a nose might get chopped off.

I am not exempt from either behavior, but I want to be.

This week I wish I could prove to be both exempt from unfortunate girl traits, but exceptional in overcoming what others think of me.

I know, this is cryptic. Sorry.

You are a very beautiful Michael Bay-by.

2011-07-07T16:29:00.004-06:00

(4th of July at Spring Mobile Ballpark. They let us watch fireworks on the field!)

This past weekend was charged with great times and great news. I find it slightly less than humorous that I am able to write more often when I am in a funk, depressed, dissatisfied, or some huge life event has taken place. And yet, when things are the kind of perfect that Knight's slay dragon's for, my writing gets unreliable. Well, my blog writing anyway. So, it is the ridding of this habit that I wish to achieve with this post.

In married news, Tom returned for us to enjoy a spectacular 4th of July weekend together, and it ended with two of my favorite things: Baseball and Fireworks. Over the weekend, we went to the farmer's market and we saw a great movie or five. You see, when Tom and I have been apart for a while, it seems to only make sense to overindulge in movies, as if that is what has really been missing for two weeks.

I have a hard time articulating how great it is to watch movies with Tom. Such a hard time, that all Tom and I could repeatedly say this weekend, after our Guy Movie Marathon, was "I really like watching movies with you!" To which he would reply, "I was just thinking the same thing!" and then we'd go back to blood- footed Bruce Willis killing Fabio-esque German terrorists.

We both remarked on how much my standards for film have lowered, and yet, this was NOT a bad thing. During our walks to the theater (see, we're not completely lackadaisical) I realized that I will see ALMOST anything now. Meaning, I am not a genre snob or even a director/producer/actor snob anymore. It has to do with 1 part Tom and 1 part becoming a mainstream screenwriter. When I see these movies, it isn't because I know that it's the finest form of art, but I am going to see what they teach me, how I can make my scripts the same or better, or what to NEVER, EVER do, like have your characters start talking to themselves with shameful exposition because you couldn't find other ways to express it(Yep, I'm talking to you Die Hard 2: Die Harder). And Tom helped me realize how great it is to get out and see what is being made and to truly enjoy myself with joyful abandon for a couple of hours.

For a long time there, if you asked me to go to a movie with you that might be say, the 4th sequel in a series or involved the words "...With a Vengeance" in the title, I would either find a way out of it, say no, or laugh at the very thought. SNOBBERY!!! SNOBBERY!!! SNOBBERY!!!

I am relieved and happy to announce that this is no longer the case and the best proof you'll ever need that people can change. Redemption: it is a true and living thing.

There goes the hyperbolic neighborhood.

So, what about you? What did you do this past weekend? How did you celebrate your freedoms? Did you maybe watch transforming robot cars kill other transforming robot cars and also most of the city of Chicago? If you did, I joined with you in giving Michael Bay, my favorite person alive, a nice and early Christmas bonus.

You are a very beautiful annnnd 101

2011-07-01T10:55:00.003-06:00

Tom gets home today. For any woman that I used to mock for being a mewling baby when their husband was away.... I'm sorry. It can be the pits. I was mewling right with you.

But man has this been a good two weeks for me. I have learned a lot about life. I have learned a lot about myself. I became a mad scientist of sorts with my screenwriting. I have talked to myself like Tom Hanks in Castaway WAY too much. I don't even have a Wilson. I just have conversations with myself.

It's only bad when I realize I've butt dialed someone while having these conversations. Other than that, they're pretty healthy. Right?

Can I get a holla?

Ok.

Watch This: It will improve your life.

You are a very beautiful lazy dynamite!

2011-06-28T17:25:00.005-06:00

Happy 100th blog post everyone!

(Very first blog image)

That's right, this here blog, after years of meandering in and out of frequency, has just reached it's 100th. Thank you to my readers (my friends and family) that have made me realize that I shouldn't give up on blogging like I have with almost everything else in my life, even though my blog has a crazy name.

The title of this post is actually fitting for the 100th entry, and yet it wasn't intended.

Paul McCartney wrote a little known song called, "Lazy Dynamite."

I am a screenwriter and sometimes I exhaust my efforts by trying to do too much writing at once. I burn myself out and don't come back to the script for a long time. It is cyclical. It is sad.

Finally, I hear this song, and I know what it means; or, I get the irony. I get that even if it is lit slowly, it is still dynamite. It will still explode.

(stage 1 of boarding)

In my case, I have learned to pace myself in the last week. I have set goals for my script everyday-- small, manageable goals. For example, I will go to bed the night before and say "Alright, even if I don't do laundry tomorrow, I WILL write 40 scene cards." and actually, that proved to be too much for one day, so I broke it up even further. The next night, I wrote the goal, "Tomorrow, even WITH laundry, I am going to write every scene card for ACT II." And kaboom! It worked.

(Stage 2 of boarding)

You see, the thing about me and probably the thing about a lot of us, is that I believe that if I want to be good at something or want a perfect finished product, it better come all at once or not at all. What a massive failure on my part. It is why I have never felt like I have mastered anything. Practice makes perfect but it also makes PRACTICE, and for a lot of us, practice isn't good enough. We have to beat the bullies up at the end of Karate Kid NOW!

But, I'm learning, you know. I'm learning everyday. It isn't just ebb and flow either. It is pacing myself, and realizing that it isn't about finishing first, it is about finishing.

I have always been a late bloomer, and I don't know what's wrong with that, but it has always given me anxiety. And now I am realizing.... who cares if it was late! Didn't I bloom?

I suppose the reason why we worry about it is because we learn how bad procrastination is our whole lives and we assume that this is what 'late blooming' is. It isn't. Procrastination IS bad. Not doing anything with your day IS bad. But doing things at the pace you can handle, the pace that actually gets you results with no burn-out, is the best thing ever. Because you WILL cross the finish line and then start the next race when you can.

So, how does this relate to my blog? Well, although it has been around for almost three years and only has 100 entries....it has 100 entries! I haven't deleted it or completely abandoned it. I have realized that it means something to me. It means a LOT to me in fact. It is my lazy dynamite.

Here is some more of that dynamite exploding. It's been a great three years.

You are a very beautiful Crazy Super 8s

2011-06-25T13:16:00.006-06:00

So, I went and saw a movie by myself last night. When your movie buddy-husband leaves for an extended amount of time, it must needs be.

I saw Super 8 and I have to admit, it was a pretty successful night. Other than some awkward moments when I would excitedly laugh or jump and look at the husband and wife next to me to try and share in the communal film experience. They looked over at me like I might have escaped my padded cell for just one night, but maintained a nice Kate Spade purse as a guilt-gift from the people who put me there.

Maybe I was too eager for a hit and that might be why it was so euphoric for me. I loved the performances, the nostalgia, and I even loved that it scared me out of my seat several times--one of the scenes scared everyone out of nowhere! The man in front of me full-on screamed and then looked around like he was just being a comedian. You were not sir, you were not.

But seriously, I was transformed back to childhood, being absolutely enraptured and terrified of E.T. Keep in mind, E.T was the very first movie I remember seeing ever. I know, fascinating. For more on this story, please wait for my James Lipton interview later this month.

If I had any real complaints, it would be when I could see the apparatus, as it were. And that's just a residual that comes from being a screenwriter-in-training. I could see where plots points were being so hammered that I sometimes winced. I will write more about this in my next post, but for now, just know that you should see Super 8 with your children who are old enough, because I felt that it was the first movie in a while that ignites that special fear, empathy and curiosity of a child, as E.T. did in me, I just don't think it is as good as E.T.

As far as parental guidance, just tell your children that back in the 80s kids didn't swear, because Charles was in Charge, and that the kids in Super 8 are just foul mouthed baddies, because it's set in the 70s. Also, this monster is NOT cute and cuddly like E.T. He makes people say ouch, but he doesn't repeat it back to them with a gentle finger press.

And to my friend Nate Fackrell who came up with the idea first, I am sorry, and I know that your movie would have been much better and then I would gush even more about it then Super 8. Stupid success hog, J.J Abrams. But, you WERE born in the 70s Nate, so what does that say about you? Hmmm?

You are a very beautiful don't watch me.

2011-06-24T13:42:00.002-06:00

Sometimes I run. Albeit, 'sometimes' is the operative word. And this morning I realized that it isn't running at all. When I go 'running' it's like walking while bouncing. I suppose it's still cardio, right?

I'd like to admit my deep embarrassment about this to the men in women in my life who run marathons. They RUN them.

You are a very beautiful Gentree (not gentry).

2011-06-23T09:54:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I got to visit with my old friend Gentree. We used to tap to the good ship lollipop as front desk agents at the Marriott. I was from Texas, she was from Utah. We both moved on to life's next adventures, and in the span of a few years, she is married and just had her second baby and lives in Texas. In my news, I took a really long time to do anything. But I eventually graduated college and moved away and then moved BACK to Utah and got married.

(The younger years. Gentree's wedding.Well, at least I hope it is, because she's wearing a wedding dress)

So yeah, she's visiting Utah right now with her two makes-you-want-to-shoot-your-face cute boys, and she's the one living in Texas. Kind of boring to a reader probably, but I don't know what it was, I fell asleep last night thinking of the strange and wonderful ways that life works out in a few year's time.

In other news...
my flip flops completely tore up the inside of my big toes and index toes (that's what I call them, because I'm not sure what they're called on feet). So I am walking a little more like a bird these days. What else is new?

You Are a Very Beautiful Irresponsibily Awesome

2011-06-21T19:52:00.011-06:00

This weekend, Tom and I made a lightening fast trip to Oakland, CA to see the Cars 2 Screening at Pixar, which is actually in Emeryville. We also spent a half day in San Francisco. It was impromptu, quick, and awesome! Tom had to be back last night and headed out yesterday morning for more being a professional filmmaker shenanigans. I love that man.

Pixar was a dream come true! We are very aware how lucky we are to get the opportunity to go. It was better than I could have imagined, and I have a pretty crazy imagination; For instance, I once imagined that I could keep a garden alive....more on that later. Bottom line, Pixar might be my favorite place ever, as per the following pictures:

(Sorry for the poor picture quality, they were taken on Tom's iPhone in case Steve Jobs happened to walk by...kidding).

I experienced a lot of firsts! Saw San Francisco for my first REAL time, and on the way, I even got to see the Salt Flats in person! That made me happy. Maybe a little too happy...

I got to partake in my first San Francisco authentic Sour Dough bread bowl at Fisherman's Wharf and I must say, THAT is the true San Francisco treat.

(Jacob, with the appropriate face for such luxuries)

I thought they would send me to Alcatraz for too much enjoyment (shameless bragging about seeing Alcatraz). Seriously, it made me want to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge (shameless bragging about going to the Golden Gate bridge). It was so good, I nearly ran down Lombard Street WITHOUT a car (shameless bragging about driving down Lombard street). Yes, it was so good I almost couldn't eat my Ghirardelli chocolate ( Lie! I did.)

(A bad picture of the Golden Gate Bridge)

(My cute husband looking at a trolley)

The screening at Pixar was awesome! The theaters are pretty darn rad. Cars is not my favorite Pixar film, but remember that Pixar's 'not my favorite' is most people's "I wish!" I am very aware that it has a WIDE audience of adoring fans. That's enough for me. We still laughed at all of the right parts and enjoyed the ride. Also, the opening shot looks phenomenal! And, as per usual, it had a strong theme, and characters with strong objectives. That last statement smacked of what you might call envy.

Most importantly, we got to see the Brave teaser and I nearly ate my eyeballs! I am REALLY stoked on this one. Be next year already!

Anyway, we had to come home. I would like it if my husband didn't have to run off to the other side of the country immediately. But on the BRIGHT side, I am knocking it out of the park with my writing in his absence. This is it, people! I'm writing the screenplay that I believe is to be my great big. . . .maybe.

Here is an appropriate emoticon to go along with that last statement:

:-/

And she's off!

PS) Jacob and Rachel, our wonderful hosts, have the most amazing house in Oakland that they have renovated by themselves. It is beautiful and inspiring and also discouraging because I am not HALF the do-it-yourself-er that these two are. They are a lot to live up to. They even fed us three spectacular meals on top of being as busy as Oprah Winfrey, only they didn't retire (that quitter).

You are a very beautiful... A Love Letter.

2011-06-20T14:15:00.003-06:00

(Note: For all of my readers just tuning it, the below love letter is the prize for guessing the answer to a HIGHLY cryptic logline from my last blog. My cousin, Morgan Joyner, won with her answer, "North by Northwest", ergo, her letter)

Dear Morgan,

This love letter is long overdue, and not just since last Thursday when you guessed the movie logline challenge correctly in which the prize was a love letter. But, it is also for being awesome in every sense of the word. You came to my wedding, you danced the night away, you're going to (or already have?) run the Disneyland marathon, which makes you pretty much crazy....crazy awesome! I have a Disneyland season pass and maybe I'll come up and watch you run it, while eating Dumbo ears and loudly cheering, "Go Morgan, nom nom nom!" When you're done, we'll get on the river rapids ride (forgot the name?) and you'll cool off quickly, and possibly, vomit. But you won't! Because this is a love letter, and you're awesome. You are a great mother, a great wife, a great student, a great supporter and a highly ambitious and motivated individual. If that isn't enough, you also pretty much have the best taste in music and movies and introduced me to the show Lost at a time when I REALLY needed it. Beyond that, remember that time you made homemade Fettucini Alfredo and it was perfect and then I stupidly doused it with Garlic SALT instead of Garlic Powder? That was sad and rad and bad. But bad like Michael Jackson, not bad like Rebecca Black.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I love you and will you marry....your husband again and again and again?

All of my mushiest and gushiest,

C. B. Morrill

You are a very beautiful so I want to be a screenwriter

2011-06-16T17:34:00.004-06:00

Today, I have read from several books and articles that have described why my screenplay sucks, although I did not actually read the book Your Screenplay Sucks, found on Amazon and available on Amazon Kindle (can I get monetized now?).

To fully understand and even appreciate why my scripts have sucked (and my old roomie and soon-to-be Nobel Prize winning author, Tiffani Barth, can attest) I had to first understand and fully appreciate the fact that I am no good at loglines, or, my loglines suck.

Before I go on pretentiously assuming that everyone knows what loglines are or OUGHT to know, I will now elucidate (oops, anti-pretentiousness, fail).

A logline, or a one-liner, is something that big muckety-mucks in the film world use as a cheat sheet to the big question on any film goers mind: what is this about? It is a couple of quick and to the point sentences answering just that question.

These loglines are not written for snot-nosed Cinephiles; they are made for the everyman. Loglines are movie Sparksnotes for a busy executive or agent or producer. Later on, you'll read it on the back of the DVD box you're considering or on the poster your ogling. Yes, eventually loglines leave the desks of burned-out executives and make it into our very homes....that is, if it doesn't suck.

And the reason that I have to be good at them, besides simply selling one, is that it doesn't serve you as a writer to keep endlessly writing a screenplay or novel about something that you're not quite sure about. The story starts to take some interesting detours in and out of genre and theme and SENSE when you don't know precisely what is supposed to happen.

Some writers might say that even more important is the theme, but with respect to them I must say, I think this is true but it comes later. What the thing is ABOUT is what comes first, and then the theme, or, the moral of the story is discovered by everyone after they have actually seen the movie. Some people say that the theme IS what it's about, but truthfully, what happens is what it's about, and the theme is the significance of what's happened.

Here is an example of a fairly good logline (and by the way, guess the title of this movie and I'll personally write a love letter to you on this blog):

A hapless New York advertising executive is mistaken for a government agent by a group of foreign spies, and is pursued across the country while he looks for a way to survive.

Although I think this one could be a little more compelling, it obviously sold (if you can guess it, you'll know how well it sold). And the thing is, I have a million screenplay ideas rolling around my brain, but the concise and compelling way of pitching them is always my struggle. The above logline is very concise and pretty compelling.

So, here is my logline for this week:

A fledgling screenwriter struggles to write pithy, compelling one-liners, but is mistakenly thrust into the world of legitimate screenwriters anyway.

Hmm, logline or wishful thinking?

Wish me luck, and the ability to simplify and, if necessary, revise.

You are a very beautiful Urban Honey

2011-06-15T11:02:00.012-06:00

"We can plant wildflowers on rooftops and be unorthodox urban honey pioneers."

(Courtesy of the best show ever, Pushing Daisies, RIP)

Although last week presented scads of humorous and not-so-humorous husbandless moments, I am happy to report, with the expert help of a friend, Heidi Hathaway, I was able to begin the process to a lifelong aspiration: An Urban Garden. Now, to achieve such a feat, I had to have two things (two things that I was very aware I would need). 1) An urban setting, preferably in the form of a rootop of my own. And 2) A garden. However, I realize that the garden part would be obsolete in this case without a true green thumb to help me out. Enter Heidi Hathaway.

So, I have found myself suddenly with the rooftop terrace part covered (pun intended) and with the garden part pending, except I now had a friend who didn’t mind going all over the greater Salt Lake area with me to track down my best starts.

As much as we loved the idea of going to a local nursery and supporting smaller business, let’s face it: Lowe's is cheap and offers the same things. I know, I should just suck it up and spend the money to support locals, but let’s all heave a deep sigh and admit that the convenience of Lowe's couldn’t be beat either. One stop shopping at its best.

Tom was soon to be arriving, and in my “I’ve seen too may romantic comedies” way, I was planning on having some type of sublime Versailles-like reveal for him when he arrived, a la Mark Ruffalo in Just Like Heaven. You know, as long as I’ve worked in film (which isn’t that long) you’d think I’d come to understand the smoke and mirrors aspect to film making. You know…set designers, costumers, directors, exorbitant budgets. None of which I was working with, excepting of course, a true and dedicated hard worker with experience under her gardening AND film making belt (which you can buy at Lowe's, just not the experience or film making part).

So, even though I didn't quite get the Oscar worthy reveal, Tom was quite pleased and surprised, and we did plant what I would call a great start. I have been obsessively checking on my slice of a garden every few hours since I've had it. It is sort like having a pet, but not really. And it is sort of like having a baby, but not really at all.

I like it. I like it a lot. Thanks, Heidi.

You are a very beautiful this is about...

2011-06-09T19:55:00.004-06:00

This one is a short one--I know, thank goodness. But I needed to say really quickly how much I enjoyed X-Men: First Class last weekend. I didn't say anything about it before and it made me feel like I didn't see it. As we all know, if it isn't on the internet, it didn't happen. Kind of like an article I just wrote that I didn't save. That is my favorite d'oh of today. And by favorite, I mean it made me want to puke and I might still. There's an hour of work down the drain.

Also, is it just me or does anyone else hate the idea and the look and the necessity of your resume? I really do. I wish I could just send prospective employers candy scented (and flavored) letters that detail my favorite parts from last week's Burn Notice. Wouldn't that be better for both of us?

Dear Prospective Employer,

Doesn't Michael look good in white pants? I mean, to heck with labor day. Anyway, I digress. . .

And now I must complete the day's work by perusing Tom's extensive movie collection and choosing one to watch. He's not here, so I can FINALLY see Fast and the Furious-er-est.

But, since we're talking about resume's (we are, aren't we?). . .

You are a very beautiful France is far away

2011-06-07T15:10:00.008-06:00

Today is a day that I miss my friend, Coryn. Well, I miss her all the time, but it is in the forefront of my brain today. She would know exactly how to get things done today and exactly what to say to motivate me. Some days, especially as a writer, motivation is a revolving door: a revolving door that has fun and random giggles on the one side, and on the other, purpose, work and the potential for financial growth.

One side is beneficial emotionally, and the other, mentally and emotionally. Which of course makes the purpose, work and financial growth side the most important. But Heck’s Becks (Hell’s Bells innocent little sister), I can’t help it if there is this awesome performance of Heartbreak Hotel to watch 10 times in a row. 1:15 to 1:25 is pure unadulterated genius.

And I can't help but lose my concentration over a cool charitable website I discovered called Modest Needs.

However, it's time to make the donuts, as my sage and mentor, Dunkin Donuts, once said. And I have a LOT of donuts to make; starting with the dough, or, getting my name change finished. And adding the glaze, by writing my SEO content and finishing my script.

I will now attempt to make headway on all of the above. Wish me luck. And yes, it is almost 3:30 in the afternoon. I’m a late bloomer. Just because Mr. Dunkin made his donuts in the early morning hours doesn't mean I have to.

You are a very beautiful tribal termination

2011-06-03T13:55:00.004-06:00

Now that I am married, and this is no excuse, I suddenly feel compelled to settle down, focus and make something of myself. One gapingly big hole in my life has always been my perceived lack of real-world skills. You know, the kind of thing that would keep me in the tribe because I added something valuable and indispensible to the whole?

I am a writer; it’s what I like, it’s what I do. And yet, I get the sneaking suspicion that in a post-apocalyptic society, this would not be a highly valued ability.

I was searching through job listings today, and it is pretty pathetic when you peruse each one and say, “Nope, nope, nope. Ooh, that would be cool, if I knew the first thing about park services. Errrr…..” and then it always ends up turning back to writing. Even in previous jobs I have attained, at entry level, the job has always ended up turning gradually to my writing. It doesn’t mean I am some writer wunderkind (at al!), it just means that I say a lot about my enjoyment of writing, and then the bosses say, “Ok, let’s take you for a spin.” It makes me feel happy to know I have a passion, and at the same time the pigeon-holed aspect of it all sort of worries me. No one is pigeon holing me, I have pigeon holed myself into belief that this is my favorite thing to do and it is the ONLY thing I can do.

But that’s nonsense. I have a VERY extensive list of other things I can do.

I can…crochet.

I can…. make Café Rio Salads (that might be my next application, ooh)

I can…play about 7 chords on the guitar

I can…sight read music on a VERY amateur level

I can…. make babies cry by looking at them.

That last one has always upset me, but now I see I could have a super lucrative career in baby scaring. I’m not hiding THAT one under a bush.

In other news, my husband makes babies smile and coo just by entering a room. I kid you not, at his brother’s wedding a little girl - no relation to the family - having never seen Tom before, clung to him from the moment he walked into the room until the traumatic moment her mother had to surgically remove her from Tom’s arms (yes, she had surged herself to him). Not pretty.

(Exhibit A. Sort of. It's a different baby, and Tom looks happier than him)

Anyway, this clip tells me I’m not alone, and even the crème de la crème fear these things.

You are a very beautiful Belgium

2011-06-01T15:41:00.003-06:00

Two nights ago, Tom and I decided it was time for dessert and as beautiful as the evening was, we decided that it was also time to explore this city we live in. So, we walked down our stairs onto the city streets, and took two whole steps to find ourselves at Bruges Waffles & Frites. I am sure many a person reading this has already been and can join me in my gushing. Holy mackerel! With each bite, and I kid you not, we stared at each other like children being bludgeoned in the gut with yumminess for the first time. These might sound like three different and isolated things, but I promise you, it makes sense in my head, and isn't that what this blog is for? Making sense of my head? Isn't it? [nervous shifting]

I'm serious, an innocent bystander would have thought we needed assistance to the nearest emergency room. We stared at each other like we had won the lottery with each bite while simultaneously wincing to take even one more; like some punishment from above was about to be incurred upon us. It was as if we had partaken of the forbidden fruit, and we knew we shouldn't (calories and such in our case) but that not enjoying the taste would have also meant some sort of terrible destruction on us both. So, we ate the authentic (that word has never been so delicious to me) Belgian Waffle with creme fraiche and strawberries on top. Hey, at least we shared one, and it wasn't large either. Of course, for full disclosure and review I must also admit that we got an order of their *small frites with andalouse dipping sauce and that also could have completed us.

Seriously, THESE were not fries, but something that Thor himself sent down from Asgard (but only the Kenneth Branagh Thor). It is worrisome really. It's like you taste such goodness in your life and you feel so blessed to taste it, and suddenly you feel a little like Hansel and Gretel, eating while looking over your shoulder to make sure the witch isn't firing up her oven. **

I have actually felt that way a lot lately. Like the witch is stoking the fire while I don't necessarily get fat in size, but fat in blessings and experience. Do you ever feel that way? I have felt it previously in my life, as a child I often felt it, mostly just because I knew there were those with much less (even when I had less) and it made me feel like I was Gretel and those children with less were being told my cautionary tale as a bedtime story.

I have remedied a lot of those feelings in my life by serving. I find that it is always best to share and serve and give of yourself. There is nothing wrong with having a blessed life (in so many ways, each one of us has one) but it becomes wrong when we are not giving ourselves to the service of others with those blessings. I know, this is a truism, but when I come to fully understand why a truism is true, I always feel compelled to make note of it, publicly. This usually makes wiser, well-versed people scoff at me. Nonetheless, Sunday school is week after week of truisms. So what if I am a student of life that feels compelled to make note of my discoveries, be they discovered already or not?

Anyway, we did engage in a wonderful walk and talk in the park (a la Aaron Sorkin and Nora Ephron ) after our trip to Belgium.

It was perfect, and I have to admit, it felt like our very own Central Park, and at that perfect-nearly-dusk hour, it really did. It was refreshing and wonderful. It gave us both a chance to talk a second or two about gratitude as well. A topic we're both very cautious to remember.

Anyway, this wasn't really what I meant to write. But here is a secret, and it is no lie: none of my blog posts come out as I intended to write them. One thing sort of just leads to another.

Goodnight friends, wherever ye be.

*Small my femur! It was a helping the size of my....something. I don't know yet. Just, know that it was big.

**Note to those that are worried that we just eat like crazy. We actually don't. Our meals for the most part have been sensible and healthy and we both workout (not terribly hard all the time, but we are active). Not to mention we only have dinners together, and our other meals (at least mine anyway) are rabbit portions (and sometimes taste like rabbit food). I realize that the last several posts mention food and might seem a little gluttonous. We eat mostly at our place, homemade, and always include fruits and vegetables. So, don't forget to get a half hour of exercise a day and to plant a tree. This public service announcement was brought to you by a paranoid blogger, afraid of your opinion.

You are a very beautiful memorial daze

2011-05-30T16:31:00.005-06:00

Well, after a terrible night of sleep but a wonderful day preceding it, I am feeling many side effects. On the one hand, I Courtney, with the tortilla help of my husband, successfully made Cafe Rio Salad. It only took around 15 hours (That sounds bad, but it isn't. Slow cooker, beautiful).

I was so nervous before we started serving up our plates, I was shaking. BUUUUUT, I dare say that it was the best thing I have ever made! The only empirical data I have to back this up is that I never actually want to eat anything after I cook it, and darlin', I had two helpings . So, I knew this one turned out pretty dern good. I know, I'm amazing, I can read directions and put ingredients into bowls.

However, we just finished our 2nd day leftover dinner, and it was still just as good. A pretty spot on copycat. And having it two days in a row makes the cost of all of the ingredients balance. And, we could even get one more day out of it, and make it one gigantic bang for our buck.

Now, about the sleep. I have never had back ailments before, besides a standard knot or two. But holy mid-back pain iron man! The last two days have been a doozy. Luckily, I have a nearly-professional masseur of a husband. But alas, when none of that worked yesterday or today (but for a few minutes) I knew I was in trouble.

Since I'm not Kate Middleton (even though I jest) I am not in a position to pay round the clock centaurs to massage my back and/or diagnose the issue. Tom believes it is due to my helping him lift a couch two days ago, I think it was from doing a 4 minute body blast workout three days ago that involved push-ups (up).

So, today, as we made our intensive memorial day "fill in the gaps" shopping trek, I was a total dead weight winey baby boo boo loser. I couldn't even get to Anthropologie! ANTH-RO-PO-LOG-IE!!!!!

Tom is right though, giving it more attention makes it more obnoxious. It's like telling Richard Simmon's you're interested in a new weight loss method. Only, he makes you laugh as he dances through the 80s, and a bachache just gets achier, without striped shorty-shorts to ease the pain. Ok, I think the hallucinogenic pain killers have finally set in. A Richard SIMMONS analogy? What's WRONG WITH ME!???

Anyway, for the time being, we're doing Bengay, Ibuprofen every 4 hours, and occasional back rubs along the spine, and unfortunately, I have about 30 minute stints where I can help Tom work on the loft. And BOY has he been working. The man has just whipped up dinner, arranged all of our cupboards (rearranged), scotch guarded our new couch, and mopped our floor...most of which was under my direction or viewership. Not to mention his cardboard box breaking down marathon for the last three days. I feel terrible! The man is a machine and don't think I'm not aware of it. I was striving and working on that kind of machine-like level of being until this stupid back thing and now everyone is free to write "Sure Courtney, suuuure. Backache." To this assumed reaction, I respond, "I am rubber you are glue and I have Bengay. It tingles! A lot!"

PS) I got awesome house shoes today. So there's that.

You are a very beautiful home improvement

2011-05-28T17:56:00.003-06:00

I am watching Tom assemble the TV stand from Primm, Nevada (Primm = Hell in my estimation). I just spent the same amount of time making my first salad dressing ever. It was strange at first and then incredibly rewarding. And not because cooking is rewarding or that my womanhood is fascinating or anything. Actually, it is quite the contrary. In a Tim the Tool Man Taylor sort of way I found it rewarding because I LOVED beholding the power of my blender! All I had to do was throw in every ingredient after chopping and dicing and de-seeding and measuring, and then in about 30 seconds, I had a delicious dressing. My FIRST dressing ever. And as I listened to the powerful blender do its job, I beat my chest and roared, "That's right! Mama owns you! Arrrr arrr arrr!" (or however you write the Home Improvement noise).

This getting your life together thing can be pretty fun. I love our place more and more everyday. It is insanely exciting to see it take shape every day. And it takes that shape as we both compromise and agree. Tonight? Our first couch. Yesterday? Our first television stand. Beginning of the week? Our first television! I think we have the basics covered.

Oh jeez, toilet paper!!! We're going to need that, aren't we? I think we have decided that if we didn't register for it, we don't need it.

So, I got a new 'do, and a new couch today! Not too mention getting to marinate with brown sugar for the first time.

You are a very beautiful terrorist paranoia

2011-05-28T14:48:00.004-06:00

Update. I made eggs over asparagus. They were good. Tom seemed to really enjoy it. But I learned some new lessons about cooking in ovens. Don't always listen to how long the directions TELL you to cook it. Be as paranoid as Bin Laden* , checking it every couple of minutes.

And, Voila!

(Disclaimer: That is not a picture of my eggs over asparagus. They are from the hit television drama "5 Ingredient Fix")

*Too soon?

You are a very beautiful fascinating updates!

2011-05-26T13:26:00.006-06:00

How does one ever come out of honeymoon mode? I suppose for Tom, it is getting back to work. For me, it is a bit a of a challenge. Sure, work is coming (and in interesting shades) but in the meantime, amidst unpacking and cleaning, I find myself wanting to do all sorts of wishy-washy things followed by learning new things about myself (I can do exactly ONE push-up. That was an enlightening moment yesterday). Most of the thoughts and things I will not entertain you or myself with, and the others I will throw caution to the wind and reveal.

I have the overwhelming desire to cook. Cook? Cook! Is this what nesting is, in a non-pregnant, or birdish way? I can't be sure. I suddenly want to learn to use every single awesome culinary gadget we were gifted (gratefully gifted) and try and attempt to cook things I have ne'er dared cook. In fact, most of these dishes I wouldn't even look at since I have traditionally used recipe books as a laptop table to write blog entries on or as temporary coasters. I would reveal a couple of these recipes right now, but in order to be truly domestic and surprise my husband, I will not, and thus win this first wife battle: being demure and mysterious.

I am neither, but the thought amuses me.

This whole week I have been reminded of a book I once heard about in a humanities class: Fascinating Womanhood. The title keeps rolling around and around my brain as I have unpacked a million boxes, put together my kitchen, listened to A LOT of Florence + The Machine, made our bed every morning (because I am the last one out of it, only fair) and watched a girly movie or two, followed by a guy movie or two. There is no particular purpose that I bring Fascinating Womanhood up (besides, the book being absurd and beyond what we would classify as sexist and unrealistic) but to illuminate some of my weird thought processes this week. I look at Tom's toiletries, I look at mine. I evaluate Tom's decorating style, I evaluate mine. These things are somewhat diametrically opposed and yet, we make it work. Fascinating womanhood, and manhood, too!

I noticed yesterday that I watch less movies than Tom. Not a bad or a good thing, but a slightly shocking thing. As I evaluated the reasons for this, I had an a-ha moment (Possibly somewhere in the middle of listening to A-ha's "Take on Me" while putting silverware in a drawer). The realization: I take movies WAY to seriously these days. I feel like I have to absorb each one, in its own time, and then ruminate, be upset or joyous and pondering for a few days, and then consciously choose my next one with the utmost wisdom and precision.

I started to tell him how I watched a movie on Netflix as I unpacked yesterday and immediately I went into a five minute sermon-like-rant about one of the plot points that really perplexed and bothered me. No joke, I could hardly sleep last night! I'm pretty positive Tom tuned me out somewhere in the middle, but he is too polite and sweet to tell me so. That being the case, I realized something: rarely does Tom let things like this creep into his conversation. Occasionally, he will tell me how he did or didn't like something in a movie or a book or a song, but then, press on and we're over it. I aspire to be like this. It's not passive either. It's just learning to put things in perspective and not letting them consume your every waking thought. For me, there has been too much of that my whole life, and a heaping helping of it lately. Fascinating Courtneyhood?

That's a beauty of marriage. I am sure I will teach Tom to be more expressive and he'll teach me to be more perspective driven. Understanding the ebb and flow of life a little more could help us as spouses and as people, I'm sure. We'll be Mary and Martha and vice versa.

So, with that said, here are some pictures from the ol' h-moon, that I haven't returned from yet. Call me in six months, perhaps I'll have perfected Ukrainian Borsht by then.

(Lanakai Beach. Oahu, HI)

(The cutest man alive. Pali Lookout.)

(One happy lady)

(Ukrainian Borscht)

You are a very beautiful film (or the lack thereof) reviews

2011-03-30T01:31:00.008-06:00

As luck would have it, some nights, amidst all of the chaos of (not saying the word, just use your imagination), I get the opportunity to enjoy the occasional dinner, movie or television show with Tom. These moments are so precious to me, and I’m pretty sure to us. Pressures on, Tom.

I love watching movies, and I love watching them more with Tom. As trite as it sounds, no matter what it is, we seem to have fun watching it. Enter--- Red Riding Hood. Yup, we saw it. Yup, it was cheeeeeesaaaaaay. Yup, I went with the intention of seeing Gary Oldman (don’t you judge me!) and it was a funny date, but still fun all the same.

In other news, WHAT’S with movies right now? Bummer in the summer, that’s what. Or, umm, splinter in the winter, I guess?

The last three movies we’ve seen together in theaters were disappointing. The Adjustment Bureau? Red Riding Hood? UNKNOWN!

Don’t even get me started on that train wreck. Hey, I’ve got an idea for a movie! How about we insult our viewers intelligence for 90 minutes by giving away the plot too early, incorporating two lines of dialogue, and then repeating it 120 times, just in case anyone missed it. As a screenwriter, I wanted to send hate-mail to the writer’s homes and then subject them to their own movie for punishment.

Eeeek, that was harsh. I just… ugh! It’s not like I was expecting that it was going to be “my” kind of a movie, and yes, Tom has every reason to tease me about complaining, because I was acting like a brat. It's just that I walked in there with such low expectations only to be let down even FURTHER than those, and they were already dismal.

It was like a movie made in the 90s, released now. I mean, my goodness, AIDAN QUINN IS IN IT! Didn't he stop working after like....hmm... Benny & Joon and Practical magic? Both 90s films, both in desperate need of Aidan Quinn to return to them.

I wanted to call Unknown the poor man's Fugitive, but after seeing it, I realize that the poor man's Fugitive would be so offended.

Also, hi, I’m January Jones, I am probably really good in Madmen, but in Unknown you might as well call my performance Stepford Wife #1: Redux…and NOT intentionally. Slow blinking? Really?

Ok, I’m not really sure what the redux is for, or if she’s actually #1. I was just…

Ugh!

Today, in the grocery store, I opened a freezer door to get some frozen veggies and the entire stock of everything in that particular section fell out on me….no joke. Sadly, this has probably tainted my day and this particular blog entry.

Sorry, general public. I’m still Courtney and I’m still happy. I just have to….talk about movies? I guess?

PS) I did, however, watch Julie and Julia again with my aunt two nights ago, and that was a fantastic second viewing. I had already really enjoyed my first, but this time, I was really appreciative of the characterization. It meant so much to me. I even got emotional several times (no biggie these days). The depiction of relationships in that movie is just….inspiring; Both as a writer and mostly as a human being.

You are a very beautiful corpse bride

2011-02-24T17:05:00.001-07:00

Getting married is wonderful. Planning a wedding is WAH.

WAH is a word/sound that Tom's roommate, and my dear friend Robert, taught me almost three years ago. Although there isn't a working definition yet, I will give an unofficial one:

Wah is the verbal- and phonetically spelled- response to the feeling of being 'over it' or 'over' something that is becoming unduly challenging, dull, expensive, boring, or lame.

As Tom pointed out quite fittingly, weddings are a racket. When he first uttered it, two or so months ago, I smiled politely and sort of looked into the camera of my life, in my Ferris Bueller/Jim Halpert way, as if to say, "Little dear, what little he knows. Weddings aren't a racket, they're a beautiful world of lace and cakes and joy rolled into a single day."

Now I look into the camera as if to say, "Wah, Tom was right, weddings are the biggest racket of all!"

He was right. And ugh.

On a happier note, let's take a look at the progress.

Cermony Location: check
Reception location: check
Dress: A work in progress...check?
Catering: Ch...eck?
Family and Friends coming in from all over: An enthusiastic check!
Music: Check, check, check, one-two.
Invitations: ummm....

Yes, I know I had a choice early on, to either defy the 'wedding industrial complex' or fully embrace it. I haven't fully embraced it and I clearly didn't defy it either, and it turns out, you can't be on the fence. You have to either choose it all the way, or choose the Little White Wedding Chapel. I obviously haven't chosen the latter, so it looks like I might as well have my own show on the We network (which is, incidentally, NOT a network about a wireless gaming console).

It's not like I'm planning some sort of wedding of the century, sometimes referred to as a Mariah Carey or Fergie (Fergalicious?). It's just that people in the wedding business, as it were, aren't philanthropists. And how. Let's keep that close in mind. As I have been, for weeks now.

In other news, look who's getting married! On April 29th no less.

You are a very beautiful the one with all the details

2011-01-04T12:04:00.003-07:00

APRIL 30th, 2011!

No introduction needed for this blog entry. I figured I would give everyone a taste of what we know so far. We are ecstatic and anxious for the coming months. We spent the holidays somewhat together and with our families and did a mild amount of planning for the big day. The two things that everyone can be for sure about at this point is that it will be on April 30th and that it will be in Utah. The reception location will be finalized and announced shortly and soon we will set up one of those very modern facebook groups to get the addresses of those that would desperately like an invitation in the mail with our beaming faces on it.

Another exciting bit of wedding planning attended to? My dress. It was picked and purchased yesterday and it was almost an out-of-body experience. The wedding world has to be the most unprecedented around. It's not one that you can just go visit every so often. To be in it you must mean business. Which explains why I felt so out of my element yesterday. You are only going to know most of the questions to ask if you have done it before. Since I have not, it was like learning to speak a new language, in a very poofy dress. Surprisingly difficult I tell you.

Wedding planning is a vortex of options and it has dragged me in on a daily basis, until I go and play rock band with my brother. Never in your life will you be asked so much about your preferences, and never in your life will you have to have so many that you never knew you'd have to have. I admire women that are direct and sure about what they want, because the wedding experience for them must play out like an easily executed grocery list. Some girls I have spoken to say that they were able to organize the entire thing in a day, short of the dress. Who are these wunderkinds to the wedding world and how may I become like them?

Have I mentioned how insanely ecstatic I am for the coming months? I get to marry the most amazing and thoughtful guy in the world. Don't get me started on my birthday and Christmas gifts this year. I am in trouble with this one.

Thanks everyone for the amazing kindness and offers to help with the planning. I hope we get to hug all of you soon.

You are a very beautiful for Coryn

2010-11-29T19:54:00.005-07:00

(Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. Never miss it)

I'm not quite ready to write a reflection on the year yet, but I may just do a little cursory one for anyone interested.

This has been a whirlwind year! Lots has been done and seen and experienced, and I am the better, the happier, the healthier, the friendlier and the wiser for it. Of course, aren't we all? I hope each year makes all of us those things.

I started a tumblr account this week (check it out HERE). And I did this for two major reasons: a) I feel that I may be able to more easily add small pictures, quotes or music without feeling like I need to give an all out blog entry that takes a lot of proofing, re-writing and ultimately deleting for embarrassment. And b) my besty, Coryn, left the world of blogging and frivolity for 18 months in order to serve the people of Paris, France and when she comes back, I wanted to give her a nice cursory glance at what's been going on. It's nice because it gets more to the point and she can ask me about it later if she wants more detail. Then again, its nice for other people to give that as well. I love tumblr and facebook accounts for that reason. Not that I don't love blogs, but my friends with tumblrs very quickly and simply give a nice dose of their lives in their fun little tumblr posts. Twitter (which I unfortunately have as well) seems a little too mundane and random for my taste...even though I'm sure I could make it worth my while somehow.

Blogs, for me anyway, are for deeper reflection. So of course I'll still keep this up and write on it from time to time to reflect, but perhaps for more consistency it is best to check the ol' tumblr or facebook.

So, some current events for you: I really enjoyed Thanksgiving! It was lovely. I went to Tom's family's house and I can finally say that it is the first time I have spent Thanksgiving with another family. What a great one they are, too! Of course, my family wasn't altogether skipped either, as my awesome sister Ashley and my tubular brother Mitchell were able to throw together a nice little Thanksgiving feast of their own for all of us and their fellow student friends and roommates with no place to go. But did you catch that? That's right! I finally completed a bucket list goal:
A Rory and Lorelei Thanksgiving! For more information regarding this topic, please click here.

Happy Holidays Everyone! I am insanely excited about this past year, and the one to come!

You are a very beautiful how...

2010-11-16T00:35:00.002-07:00

...do I do this? How do I leave tomorrow? I am sitting in my luxiurious bed, in my luxurious villa in Palm Beach, FL, that I have in no way merited, listening to the sound of the ocean as I go to sleep.

How am I supposed to go back and form any semblance of my regular life when I have tasted such fruit? Such sweetness? Such a great time with my family. It is a difficult task indeed, but my friends are also a pull for me, and getting back to see them is one heck of a consolation prize. And going back to Southern California weather and activities is like saying you're going out of the frying pan and into the fire in the best way possible. So, I'm really happy!

I don't know how I was blessed to go on a trip like I've been on for the past twelve days, but I was, and I don't want anyone to think that I am not aware of it or immensely grateful! Gratitude fills me to my ears at this time, which is a pretty great state of being for me right before ol' turkey day.

My boyfriend has his family have gone through a tough loss this past week and I know the feeling with four grandparents of my own all passing, and my heart goes out to them. It is a tough transition in the family dynamic. Nonetheless, he is a great example to me about the importance of dwelling on happiness and letting heartache be but a short moment.

From one side of the country, to the other, all of my best!

You are a very beautiful late on this one

2010-11-02T21:47:00.005-06:00

I should have been dead asleep last night for a freakishly early call time this morning, but instead, I stayed up and swooned over last week's episode of The Office. What a great episode. What a great ending. I'm getting progressively sappier. Love makes me incredibly sappy. What monster have I become?

And if this blog is about both me becoming a monster and the crazy day/weekend I just had, can it be considered a monster mash?

Badum...chhh (that's a phonetic drum roll).

What a great Halloween weekend! Filled with fun and friends and even some spookiness. I'm a lightweight compared to my roommate and friends though. They're ready to call ancient spirits back, and I'm prepared for it only if its Carey Grant and he wants to hug me and say, "Ah, you're getting soft red."

We went to The Altadena haunted forest and Cobb mansion and got swiftly turned away by a crazy police officer (just as I had gotten my nerve up....but not really) and then we went to Gravity Hill which MUST be experienced. I was thoroughly scared and impressed. And then we went to suicide bridge which was fun but JUST about did it for me. Matt serenaded us with creepy boom box delights as we walked among a forest-y area under the bridge and I felt certain that either Edward Cullen or Hannibal Lecter were about to appear, and I was really hoping it was Edward....and don't pretend that you wouldn't be relieved either!

Of course no one appeared in the end, but it was enough for me to go to bed thinking of The Aristocats (as my friends Suzanne and Michelle used to suggest when they were scared) after all, what could be scary about The Aristocats?

Of course, back in the day, the only thing that used to calm me down was the sound of David Letterman's voice, so when I was scared, I asked my parents if I could sit and watch him with them, and the world, for some deranged reason, was instantly right.

Go figure.

Here are some Halloween pictures. Mari B and Tiffani and I went as a trio and may have just come up with the world's best "reality" tv show.

You are a very beautiful Busby Berkeley

2010-10-09T15:08:00.006-06:00

I have worked pretty much non-stop for the past two weeks. I'm tired, but I'm jazzed. And the last two nights, I was especially jazzed....as in Jazz Baby. As in flappers. As in the 1920s. As in Warner bros. As in with 500 extras. As in a silent film. As in, black and white. As in French.

Ok. Enough shameless clarification.

Here are some pictures from my last week of work.

Look familiar? Well, to my sister Ashley, maybe.

(Fox Studios, Bones Set)

P.A

(The Forum, Matthew Perry's new show, Mr. Sunshine)

My Preliminary short Shirley Temple hair

(Artist, French Film, shot at Warner Bros)

My costume without my hat

(Arist, French Film, Warner Bros. I'm supposed to be a fan girl)

And so it goes folks. Have fun. Stay dry. Stay warm. Unless it already too warm and too dry.

You are a very beautiful HOT BOX!

2010-09-26T18:44:00.005-06:00

It's 104 degrees in the Valley right now. I am frying. Tom is here. He is frying. Tiffani is in her room talking to her parents for her weekly parent catch up phone call, and SHE is frying. Someone save us from the pan. We're frying. And dying. And Crying....because we're dying of frying.

(Me, fanning myself off)

Remember how its almost October? Yeah, just a reminder SoCal. Just a reminder.

Your are a very beautiful visitors and background styling!

2010-09-17T03:44:00.006-06:00

Cello,

I hate getting behind on blogging, because there is so much I forget about that I'm sure would be very amusing to blog about. Oh well.

Here are the most important things lately:

Tiffani and I moved to a new apartment in North Hollywood and its tubular! A vintage refurbished place that feels like home. Plus, when we have mail delivered to us, it says "Hollywood" now. That's legit.

(Our new living room)

Second, my bff, Coryn, came to visit for several days and we had the loveliest time ever!

The sights were awesome, the foods were awesome, the conversations were awesome. My bedroom, with a cheap - but apparently well-functioning air mattress-in my tiny space made for cozy sleeping quarters/nightly book reading headquarters. Thrift shopping and The Huntington Gardens turned out to be our biggest highlights I think, as both were lovely successes.

Coryn is going to France for 18 months. I will miss her dearly. But we will write, and we will think of each other whenever we say, "Are we going to kill them? Are we going to LIKE it?" in Scottish accents (which, who doesn't think of that daily?).

More pictures to follow.

The rest of the goings on will be bullet-ed as to not bore you with the crazy details.

-Tiffani's (my roommate's) car broke down and we had to be big girls and learn to do nasty grown up things on our own. End result? She got a really cute Yaris and we learned about car salesman and loans.

-I met a bulldog puppy named Lulu and forgot that anyone existed but that dog and me.

-I did background work and got to meet Forrest Whitaker, Lawrence Fishbourne, Mila Kunis, Justin Timberlake and now, Brad Pitt (I probably won't get to "meet him" meet him, but I am working on his movie next Tuesday. Yeppppp. It's going there.)

- When I did background work with Justin Timberlake yesterday, the director specifically asked me to walk side by side with Justin in tunnel scene in the terminal at LAX. HIGHLIGHT OF MY EXTRA WORK. Fourteen year old Courtney would probably smack me in the face if I told her that would ever happen. Pretty awesome. I'm lame. Is admitting it the first part of recovery in this case, of does it just make it worse?

(That's my head behind JT in a scene we did ALL day. Thanks paparazzi)

-I got to be featured in the Britney Spears episode of Glee about 3 weeks ago (I know, 90s teen idols strike back, or what?). That was pretty radical. I couldn't believe any of that day was happening. Please, please, please, do not make fun of me if I did in fact make it into the final cut. They MADE me try to be sexy, and most of my closest friends know that I don't do sexy very smoothly....or at all. If you look in the Courtney Topical Guide, there will be reference to my (PG) wedding night impression, and its not pretty...it's embarrassing. So, please be kind, or maybe just don't watch it (the latter is preferable).

-Two weeks ago I spent 4 days in full prom ensemble for Disney's new feature film, uniquely entitled, Prom. Watch for that one some time next year, I think?

Much, much more has happened, but I'll keep it there for now and blog more in the coming days to catch up.

Love,
Courtney

ps) For those of you wondering, no; I have not sold my soul to the devil in exchange for doing extra work. I have been between jobs for a couple of months, and since I needed the flexibility for Dead Grandma, I found out that background work was a way to get to still work on film sets (BIG FILM SETS) but have a very flexible schedule (and meet 90s pop sensations). So, I said, "Shucks, bachelors degree smachelors degree, put me in coach!" and the rest is history. And yes, the show Extras has never been more delightful to me than now. Ricky Gervais, you hit the nail on the head. Extras are fascinatingly crazy and mostly incredibly stupid...and so are the actors and actresses they work with. This is the E! True Hollywood story.

You are a very beautiful new chapter/How Dead Grandma saved Christmas

2010-08-02T02:21:00.004-06:00

The world is full of problems. My life is full of problems. But when a night ends with a gigantic dance party on the roof of the Fox Theatre in Pomona, you get the overwhelming feeling that everything is going to be OK. The bad is purged. The good rises up. People are nice, people are fun, you aren't lost, you're completely found. The Dead Grandma Benefit Concert helped cure everything that has been ailing me, and it was amazing to see the happiness, the kindness, the talent, and the generosity. It was one of those nights that felt like home. Maybe I have landed after all.

Here are some pictures from the event.

Love,

C

You are a very beautiful shockabuku

2010-07-28T13:05:00.000-06:00

You are a very beautiful simmer.

2010-07-06T19:52:00.002-06:00

Have You Ever Been Mellow?

I feel like an over-privileged, rich, upper-cruster. So many movies have depicted it. The rich adolescent/adult has been over-stimulated so they amble around, steal each others yachts, and cause mayhem all in the name of unfamiliarity. I have done none of the above, and I am not a rich upper cruster (maybe a lower-decker?) but suddenly I see the ridiculous reasoning behind it all (and no, this is not a defense for it).

I was telling my sister today that I'm not bored, because I've no reason to be...there's always something to do. But the word for me lately is unimpressed. I'm vanilla. Some may call this depression, but I don't think its that either. All of the things that usually fill me with boundless excitement are as of late, kind of lackluster, and I feel quite tepid about it all. The strangest thing of all is that I feel quite happy and very content.

My sister made a pretty great observation though. She said, "I think you're getting older." At first I flinched at the remark, thinking she was calling me old. Then, she explained that a notable part about maturing in life is that the things that once thrilled will mellow in your eyes, and become fond pastimes, but you find that you must progress to the next steps. In the mean time, everything else seems...rather...familiar. And we all know what familiarity breeds.

So, some suggestions were to stop doing all of those things I usually love and fill me with excitement--cold turkey. And then, as I start doing other, unfamiliar things in their places, whether they sound exciting or not, those things that used to excite me will hopefully re-ignite my interest again.

I'm sure this is a feeling that many of you, my friends, have experienced at some point in your life, I'm not sure to what extent, but I would really like to hear what you guys do when you feel this way. Is it common? Keep in mind, I don't mean depression, or sadness, or boredom. I mean a general vanillaness. Let me give you more symptoms:

-Any line of work (even that which you most want to pursue) seems uninteresting
-The books and movies that you typically turn to for a pick me up, inspiration, or for happiness just aren't producing those results
-Your favorite people in the whole wide world are still you favorites, but you're kind of not jazzed about doing anything, although, you know you should want to and that you normally would want to.
-Vacation planning/plans that once THRILLED you, sound like 'ok ideas' instead of ultra awesome holidays!
-You usually like to write at just about any time in your life, and you find that you have really no inspiration or motivation to put a single word to the page...but you're not worried about it.

As I finish this blog, I realize that I might just be experiencing a strange case of, "Haven't we been here before? I swear we passed that light post ten minutes ago," or post-spec-script-writing-mania. In the words of my friend Will Kindrick, "who's to know, who's to say?"

I've probably never been happier in my life though. Now that's a doozy. Diagnose that!

Smiley face.

-Courtney

PS) You should probably go check out this little beauty.

You are a very beautiful, man, myth, legend.

2010-06-27T15:57:00.003-06:00

Jim Halpert: A Dying Breed

Brothers and Sisters, I submit to you today a long awaited blog entry. I have wanted to submit this post, but I have not had the guts to even begin drafting it because my thoughts weren't assembled before now (I understand that this comes from a person that writes about Back to the Future, Jimmy Fallon, New York City, and Toy Story 3 in four short paragraphs). But here's the scoop, as much as I'll scoop it.

There is an epidemic running rampant in our society and perhaps our world, although I have not ventured out enough to know for sure. However, in our society, I'm 100% sure of it:

We are arrogant and selfish and not self-deprecating in the least. The most we say badly about ourselves is, "I went to bed so late last night, stupid me," or "Did I say that? My bad," with an insincere look on our faces. I have spoken with many people lately that have a common disillusionment with the idea of charitable love or even in the existence of good people. I have long considered why this is the case. My research went deeper when I realized it's the case with me now as well. I find that I don't trust most people and feel that everyone is capable and quite ready to stab me square in the back or take the thing that I most wanted without remorse. Indeed, most people I talk with now don't believe in the idea of a faithful relationship. They believe that men cheat and never change, women whine and always want better, and everyone thinks the world of themselves. Most men say they could have any girl and begin to genuinely believe it. Unfortunately, because these are the pervasive thoughts, they are also the truth.

So, I submit to my readers a television character by the name of Jim Halpert. He is the quirky, shrewd and lovable salesman in NBC's The Office. Now, if you have a pulse, you like Jim Halpert--maybe even a lot. If you have a heart, you love him --man or woman. And this is not just because he's the so-called "everyman" character that we are all supposed to identify with (although we should). We love him because he's an honest to goodness human being that is portrayed as humble, self-deprecating, thoughtful, self-aware, kind, flawed, goofy and not afraid to show humility.

I've always wondered why so many women, including myself, have been captivated by this character. It's not the looks, although I think that John Krasinski (the actor that plays him) is good looking. Looks alone are not enough to keep such a loyal following of both men and women viewers. If this were the case then shows like Las Vegas would have lasted longer because that Josh Duhamel is such a dreamboat (a matter of some people's opinion, but he's a good example to prove my theory about Jim Halpert isn't busted).

Jim Halpert starts out as middle management, maybe below it even. He is positive, he is goofy, he's lovable, he teases, he innocently flirts with no intention of succeeding, and he isn't afraid to suggest that he may not have the answers. With a wry sense of humor, but a genuine care for those around him, he is not the every man; he is what I believe to be the ideal; what we should all strive for. Sure, perfection is the real goal, but his qualities are a great step in that direction.

In one of the most recent seasons, Jim finds that he may or may not have just ruined his fiancee's parent's marriage by speaking out of turn. Instead of taking the stance of most people (myself included) and becoming defensive, standoffish, angry, or even fleeing when his fiancee confronts him about it, he is genuinely concerned about what he may have said, genuinely embarrassed, and humbly suggests to his fiancee that he may be guilty. He seems to submit himself for the scrutiny and criticism and quite frankly the ruin that is ahead of him in the event that what he said does implicate him and that it ruins the beautiful future he had laid out for himself with the love of his life. But his vanity doesn't get in the way in these scenes, his arrogance doesn't overcome him to the point of telling her that if she's got a problem, it's not his. And he doesn't run away like a coward from the truth. He stands in place, and in the last moments, after his fiancee has gotten the full story from her father, Jim asks, "What did he say? Was it my fault?" eyes wide, misty, and full of humility in the fear of losing her. He doesn't walk away like its her problem, he doesn't snap at her in defensiveness, he merely exhibits the qualities that should be prevalent in all of us. My sisters and friends and I have philosophized about this scene and these characteristics for hours. I have heard so many people in my life explain hard situations they have gone through when arrogance and pride dominated, and that is what brings this topic to my mind recently---that, and I'm home right now, so I have a lot of time to think about life in the abstract.

When I was twelve years old my teachers asked me to make a list of things I wanted my husband to be like when I grew up. I found that list when I got home the other day. I said I wanted him to be humble and kind (and maybe a few more things about good looks, etc). I think that the writer's of that show have it figured out in regards to that character. They understand the flaws, and the hardships, and the honest to goodness mistakes. But they also understand the proper responses to those situations if we're to be truly redeemable and worthwhile people. Yep, his wife in the show snagged a good one. I think we should all be able to learn to become that good one, and hopefully we all can be married to that good one as well.

I hope humility isn't a lost virtue. I hope being humble isn't now something that girls have to consider, "unrealistic," when thinking of their ideal relationships.

Thanks for reading, I know it was long, but it was and is important to me.

Love to all.

You are a very beautiful not sure yet.

2010-06-26T11:19:00.000-06:00

I think this looks good. I think I am skeptical about a lot of things in life lately, so a film like this could either be very good or very bad for me. Go WIF though!

You are a very beautiful flux capacitor

2010-06-25T20:09:00.001-06:00

I got to spend a week in New York City after spending 24 hours in Houston. Home. Due to the hectic nature of these travels, I had to wait a whole week to see Toy Story 3. A WHOLE WEEK! That's Courtney Summer Blockbuster Suicide (coming to theaters near you, Fall 2010). But, we got back to Houston today and just moments ago I returned from seeing the film. It was as heartwarming as I assumed it would be. Of course it caused me to question what I'm doing with my life, why I don't work for Pixar, why I've ever thrown any old toys away, and how much I love my home and my family, and wish that all of the loves of my life could be together in one place forever. Why is life not like this? Why do we have to go barreling into new territory, and scarier yet, how come we feel so strongly compelled that we must?

The film plays on that theme quite a bit, the theme of leaving behind the past in search of a new future. And I started thinking: sometimes I hate the future. Sometimes I wish I could live in the past and the future simultaneously; that Doc would show up with the Flux Capacitor and I could travel to places and through time seamlessly. These aren't particularly new thoughts to any of us, and I know its just the summer nostalgia kicking in. I'm just realizing that LA is great, but that home is home and love is love and that there are so many normal, simple people in the world, and there are days when I crave to be one of them. Not that I'm not normal now, trust me, I am, but I don't live in a normal place. I live in a place where eighteen year old's say things like, "My grandma used to force me to go to church with her, I hated her. I was seriously so happy when she died." Yeah. That was a real conversation on the set of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. The others things said are unmentionable. But then, I realize that I have met some of the best people in the whole world in LA, and that I have the best living situation and the coolest scenery all around me! The talent alone is endless. I basically live in a vacation spot, and that's pretty spoiling and awesome. If you're bored in LA, there is something wrong with you.

In New York City, we are randomly asked to come watch Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. My sister Ashley and I were acting like we were fourteen and going to our first NSYNC concert. We've loved Jimmy ever since he first started on SNL. I watched the writer's as they gauged the audience for laughter and rewrote things on the spot, and I thought to myself, "Ah, that's why I go barreling into new territory. Because for some odd reason, I feel compelled to be one of those people, writing jokes and gauging laughter." It was awesome!

Favorite Old quote from Jimmy on Weekend Update.

"She acts like she INVENTED glasses. Guess what Tina? You didn't invent glasses!"

You are a very beautiful virtue.

2010-06-17T02:35:00.001-06:00

"There is an important concept here: patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring. It means staying with something and doing all that we can—working, hoping, and exercising faith; bearing hardship with fortitude, even when the desires of our hearts are delayed. Patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well!" - Dieter F. Uchtdorf.

This is hard, so I know its true.

You are a very beautiful ha ha funny.

2010-06-17T02:22:00.002-06:00

Today, while I was in the audience for Don't Forget the Lyrics (yes, I know,) the host, Mark McGrath, front man for the WILDLY famous band of the 1990s, Sugar Ray, gave me a personal serenade of "Unbreak my Heart" by Toni Braxton. It was all a joke and a part of the show, but I have to say...that ones up there on my weird list.

Not that he's weird, although he is, but that the situation is one of those random experiences in life that you can't make up.

Ah well, I also won a free gift card for guessing five movies correctly from randomly selected AFI quotes. Duh. What else do I actually know?

I was really sad when one contestant couldn't get the words to "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones even remotely right. And then the audience warm-up guy, a thirty-five year old who is super in-the-know, said he had never heard it before. Seriously? I understand not knowing the lyrics, but not ever hearing it before? Not even in a Coke commercial? Really!?

Back to the grind tomorrow. So excited to see my family in less than 48 hours!

Its time to get real.

-C

You are a very beautiful presidential library

2010-06-13T20:11:00.005-06:00

Tom and I just got back from a lovely visit to Simi Valley to see the Reagan Presidential Library and Air Force One.

That was pretty cool. I had never been inside or seen an air force one before. The coolest part was seeing and touching a piece of the Berlin Wall though. Didn't expect that it would be so powerful to see something like that.

My friend Matt Heder would have FLIPPED when he saw the miniature of the White House.

It was awesome. I should add that my friend Matt, as I learned at Disneyland, is a HUGE miniatures buff. That was really endearing to me.

Well, now we're back from that little excursion but the travel bug took a bite out of me and now Tom is trying to get me to stop looking at vacation spots and cruise lines and history on the web.

Ok, ok. Fine. You win, Thomas. I will now go and make dinner so we can watch Bright Star.

Haha, sucker.

Toodles,

Courtney

PS) President Reagan loved telling jokes and he always kept the oval office and air force one stocked with jellybeans. The more you know.

You are a very beautiful visitors and vacations and all nighters!

2010-06-11T12:29:00.003-06:00

Two nights ago I did audience work on a show that kept us there for ten hours with no food, one bathroom break, wrapped as at 5:30am and froze us out on the roof of a high rise as we watched items and people get conveyor belted off the top of the building for answering questions incorrectly. Sure, sure, the latter part is pretty rad, but the former was enough to make me wonder what profession I'm getting myself into with this filmmaking business.Not really though...I knew that would be the case from day one. The day before the buidling work, I played a carnie on a television show and judging by the looks of things, I am unsure as to why I was chosen for that background part and I'm beginning to wonder about my look.

I talked to a young woman the other day that told me all about her job as a nurse practitioner with her normal hours and her close commute and her thriving social life, and I thought, "Hmm, I wish I wanted to normalcy in my career. What's wrong with me?" How can something seem so appealing and yet at the same time so wrong for you?

Anyway, it's vacay season, and in about one week I will be visiting my family and eating texmex, and swimming in a pool that was never there when I was growing up but whatevs, and yada yada yada.

Also, my boyfriend is getting in tonight for another short visit, and I decided to take time off from cheering for people on high rises so I could cheer for him on the ground. Well, not really cheer, but yeah, enjoy his company with both feet firmly planted, AND I bet we'll get meal breaks, too. How's that for luxury?

Bye, bye, bye,
C

PS) As I reflect, I realize that one time my boyfriend grabbed me by the ankles and swung me around a living room much to his roommate's amusement. Perhaps the relationship was just training for the jobs I do now, or for my burgeoning potential as a carnie.

You are a very beautiful obsessed much?

2010-05-30T21:10:00.002-06:00

My boyfriend watches an exorbitant amount of television. So does my sister. They both work hard though, so I'll stop being so disparaging. But seriously, I have a running count for both of them, and its pretty high--like Guinness book high.

J/K. But not really.

Hugs.

(just hugs this time, we'll work towards kisses)

You are a very beautiful Jagger.

2010-05-26T02:58:00.004-06:00

This is how I feel I want to approach the rest of my life, and hopefully the outcome is the same. 5o years of business and still doing the rooster and the finger point. What a hunk.

You are a very beautiful cultural event

2010-05-21T18:14:00.007-06:00

Ok, so, ever since my counsin's Jon and Morgan got me into Lost a few years back, I have remained a great admirer and fan of the show. However, my attention to the show faltered when I tried to graduate on time and make movies and move to LA and get a grown up job. And that's when I decided I had to come down on what shows I could invest in reasonably. Those shows ended up being 30 Rock and The Office (even Gossip Girl was left in the dust. GOSSIP GIRL!)

However, I moved to LA and it was here that it occurred to me that most all of my friends, including my dear roommate Tiffani, are avid Lost fans and have stayed true to the show. They have not faltered as I have in my ignorance and pride (ok, maybe just ignorance, pride had nothing to do with it).

But now! Now, as the series finale draws near, I was stricken with a thought last night (at City Wok, where my best ideas are usually formed) . . .

The idea?

I, Courtney, screenwriter with no other marketable skills, have decided to *ingest the last two seasons of Lost that I have fallen behind on---IN TWO DAYS! That's right folks, two seasons, two days. Alllllll so I can be just one more cog in the machine that is Lost mania. Let it be said that Courtney B. does NOT lack in her civic duties. She participates in cultural phenomena's and she even volunteered at a library once. I know, I know.

I ask now for your support during this tenuous weekend in which I will achieve what no man has achieved before. This is Seinfeld all over again, except I ended up watching the series finale of Seinfeld, completely not caught up. Ah, those were the simpler days, the days when writers created simple, easy-to-follow characters that don't all end up dying, and they didn't make up the story as they went along and actually had an exit strategy that didn't include their writer's making statements like, "We'll leave it up to the viewer to decide what that four-toed-foot statue was about," as a cop out for coming to work really tired one morning with the words, "Wouldn't it be funny if...." coming out of their mouths. **Ooops, I've said too much.

ONWARD I GO!

Jate 4eva! (I'm two seasons behind, is that still a thing?)

*I'm not actually going to eat or inhale Lost. Don't be alarmed.

**I love Lost like a sibling, I can tease it and its all in good fun. I'm not really attacking it and if you even START to, it'll get all out ugly in heya.

You are a very beautiful show of mine.

2010-05-20T19:59:00.005-06:00

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip...Still such a good show about people and situations that, unfortunately, didn't translate as well to the general public. Sigh, I still miss it.

In other news, today I worked on a show that reminded me of the atmosphere of that show, sans the witty writing and the brilliant and attractive characters. In my head, as I grew a little bored, I started fantasizing that Bradley Whitford and Matthew Perry were both in their offices somewhere in the back, but as their characters Danny Tripp and Matt Albie, pulling all the strings and participating in heightened banter with each other.

It made me feel like a giddy kid again, and it certainly made the day go by a lot faster.

Love to all!

You are a very beautiful ladidadida.

2010-05-14T15:14:00.004-06:00

Hello to all,

Sinus infections are the worst, but this one is really the worst because I am using it as a further excuse for my lack of motivation. But the truth is, although this sinus infection makes me feel icky and tired, it isn't really the reason for my lack of get-up-and-go, right now.

What do you guys do when you feel unmotivated? What are the triggers that get you back in the ballgame? My issue right now is feeling a little lost and I'm meandering a lot I suppose. So my lack of motivation is because I'm not sure what I should be motivated towards. "Whats my motivation?" you might say.

Because I have been out of commission, as it were, I have been writing a lot and brainstorming, but unfortunately, writing and brainstorming at this point won't pay my bills or keep people from asking me what I'm doing with my life. Its strange, but I feel like I'm at this wait and see juncture, and I'm not sure if this is truly accurate or something that I'm delusional about.

Dead Grandma, however, is being tackled, and each day new and amazing things are sprouting. What a great project! And what a blessing to get to be a part of something like it.

Last night, since my friend Will Kindrick and my roommate Tiffani are both sick along with me, we decided to have a sit and be sick together movie night. We watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off. John Hughes was amazing. What a cool way to get to live your life. Staying well away from the hollywood snobs, making the movies you believe in, and staying in Chicago basically. Cool for him. Good for him. Boo for me and everyone else that doesn't get to make our movies like M. Night Shyamalan and John Hughes.

Anyway, if you haven't watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off in a while, I suggest you do so. It reminds me of so many important things. . . like getting motivated. RIGHT NOW!

Do something great today.

XOXO.

You are a very beautiful more blog for your buck.

2010-05-13T19:15:00.004-06:00

Today, Tom mocked my blog writing skills by saying that he was so glad I chose to update it this year. Boys are cute little meany heads.

You are a very beautiful FRIGHTENED RABBIT.

2010-05-13T14:59:00.007-06:00

My new obsession is the band, Frightened Rabbit. They are so great. They are this perfect mixture of like The Counting Crows and maybe like Sufjan Stevens and maybe a little The Cure. Don't know how to explain it really, but they speak to me like She and Him Vol. 2 speaks to me. Oh wait, I guess that's my new obsession, too. So, so so good. So, so, so worth while. I have also rediscovered my love for Band of Horses. I laid off for a while, but wow, they are so good to me.

Life is so great right now. Dead Grandma, the series I co-wrote and co-directed with Will Kindrick, has wrapped and we're entrenched in post-production. It went swimmingly. It was the kind of busy that everyone should be. The kind of busy that makes you grateful for passions and for interests and for skills. When you are doing what you love, stress is no biggie.

Speaking of Biggie, this past week I rediscovered another love of mine...Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburgers. Well, not necessarily the hamburgers themselves, but how great Wendy's has always been to me. That value menu is a thing of beauty. I miss the days that Coryn and I used to go and order the kids meals and make the employees angrily scratch their heads. But they were the PERFECT portion for lightweights like us, AND they have a toy AND a mini-frosty.

And now, to continue on with disconnectedness--some pictures I've never posted but make me happy.

Sisters - Summer 2008

A place we used to go with the coolest California girl - Spring 2009

My living room currently- Spring 2010

Deer Valley Symphony Night with my favorite-2009
I am currently suffering from some strange sort of sinus infection that makes me even weirder, so this blog update should serve as a reminder that I can get just a little stranger than you thought. Its like in Yoga when they ask you to push the stretch just a little bit deeper and you're shocked at what you've accomplished....but in this case, you're shocked that it can get weirder.

Love to all.

PS) I'm going to be a better blogger, I'm going to be a better blogger, I'm going to be a better blogger.

You are a very beautiful BOOF vol. 1

2010-04-05T16:02:00.003-06:00

I found that its always best to not think about it. Because when I do, my chimpanzee brain starts doing somersaults on telephone wires. Sometimes I feel like explaining my days to people just because I feel like they should know. Maybe its for validation, maybe its so I can get it through to them that I am no free bird, maybe its so I can get some sympathy, maybe its so I can get some empathy. Maybe its to feel cool. Its shameless really. Mostly, I think its best to just not let your brain go wild.

When it does, this is the order that my brain takes things:

Reenactment of Courtney's Cerebral processes

Mind

Gosh, I can't believe that 7am actually exists and that I went to bed at 3am. My body hurts. My eyes feel like anvils. Coldwater Canyon, why can't you just be like a normal road and get me to work in the 15 minutes that it SHOULD take to get me to work. If only I could be better and just go to bed earlier tonight. In fact, I think I will. Maybe I'll get a nap during my lunch break, but nope, that will never happen because I can't sleep in my car knowing that the LA crazies of Culver City will start knocking on my window telling me that they are an ex-marine, father of 4 that needs me to go buy him some whiskey for his 3 year old that's super sick . Ok, its fine. I'll just go to sleep tonight after my one hour commute, a quick microwaved dinner, and an attempt to workout. Yeah right, like you're going to get to workout. You never see your friends and roommates and never talk to your family, and this is obviously the time to take care of that. There are obviously going to be one millions texts, phone calls and emails before you even put your key in your front door. In fact, you know that as you make dinner you will be fielding at least 4 phone calls. Ah but crap, you haven't gone grocery shopping in two weeks...you don't have any food. Uh huh, and your milk is now forming sentences, mostly asking to be thrown away. Looks like Tuna surprise for you. And then your roommates will want to chat, and then you'll want to because you haven't caught up in such a long time and they are so much fun. Man, it would be so cool if I could just hang out with them, write a lot of scripts and take impromptu trips to Malibu or Disneyland or the Soda Shop. Whoops, there goes working out because its time for a production meeting. Man, my apartment and my complex are SUPER nice. I wish I could swim in the pool or enjoy the spa or learn to play racquet ball. Hey Will! Awesome! Lets write the crap out of this stuff, and lets get these boards done, and lets make some important phone calls, or, since my brain is trashed from 11 hours of work, let's just laugh and joke and talk and tell stories for 2 1/2 hours until we finally get to work. Holy mother I wish I could just watch a movie right now. Hey Will, lets watch a Hitchcock movie. Yeah, I didn't think it was likely either. Ah man, it's 11:30....I have to be up in 7 1/2 hours. Not bad, I can get to sleep at 12....or 12:30. Yeah, 6 1/2 hours of sleep isn't bad. I can do this. Not bad at all. Ah crap, it's already 12:45 and I know that we have at least one hour more of talking, writing and discussing (and yes, probably joking) to do. Its ok....I'll just sleep in until the very last minute and take a 'fake' shower in the morning before work...yeah...that's what I'll do. Ah crap, it's 2:15am and we have GOT to get this episode tightened or else we won't....I'm still not in my bed. Yeah...it's looking like 4 hours of sleep for me tonight. Its ok, I'll make up for it tomorrow night. There was an earthquake in the middle of the night? How?!
Lather, Rinse, repeat.

If I don't think about it though, then its not so bad. In fact, when I don't think about it, everything is perfectly normal, and even great! My life is kind of rad right now! It really is. It's only when I look in the mirror and notice that my skin is deathly pale or that I keep forgetting to wash my makeup before sleep because I belly flop into bed like its a neighborhood swimming pool, or when I rub my lower abdomen a little because there is a slight pain telling me that I am not taking care of my nutrition to my best abilities, or when I have nonsensical dreams about my boyfriend while I sleep, because I don't see him in real life, and then, and then, and then.....

On a completely related note, I absolutely love my life. Its fantastic. The things I get to do, the people I know and get to meet, the friends I have, the experiences I am gaining---I have literally nothing to complain about. This might explain why there haven't been a lot of blog entries lately though. Because a) I have nothing to complain about and b) I am busy with loving my life.

For those of you that are concerned, I promise...in the coming weeks, I am taking measures to begin taking care of myself again. Then I'll be friendly again, then I'll have doe-eyes, then I'll have no-achy-abdomen, then I'll get my car door knob fixed. Up, up and away!

PS) Please keep your eyes peeled for Dead Grandma. It's the aforementioned project I've been putting my soul into with my friend WILL KINDRICK.....says I.

You are a very beautiful whoa there!

2010-03-12T15:34:00.007-07:00

"When one person makes an accusation, check to be sure he himself is not the guilty one. Sometimes it is those whose case is weak who make the most clamour." - Piers Anthony.

I love finding brilliant quotes at the most brilliant times.

I'm sorry I've been distant from blogging. Blah, blah, blah, life gets in the way, standard but valid excuse here, we all go home happy.

Can I get a show of hands for how many of us have been victim to a self-preserving accusation by another, or been the perp actually guilty of the accusation we throw at someone else? Ok, I'd imagine that most of us our raising our hands. What a dirty thing. What a dirty thing to be guilty of what you accuse, and what a dirty thing to live as the innocent accused.

This begs the question....is it always best to turn the other cheek? To take it on the chin? To concede and beg pardon? Will your good works and kindness pay off in the end because you were on the higher road when someone accused you? Will "karma", as it were, come back to bite those that wrongfully accuse someone else--knowing it was their own faux pas?

Because I must repeat-- it's a dirty thing.

I believe in the best of humanity, I believe in the goodness of the individual and of the group. I believe in the wrong becoming righted. I truly do. I'm an optimist, and I'm going to continue on believing that. But to all of us, and especially all of the shady characters that understand reasoning; lets be careful what feces we go around tossing, especially if its our own.

That's right....I said feces.

Much love to all,

PS) I'm aware that some of you will be wondering what has inspired this entry, and you are probably thinking something bad has happened to me. Nope, the accusations go flying everyday to and from all of us, its simply on my cranium on this day of all days.

You are a very beautiful BETTER.

2010-02-02T11:19:00.005-07:00

I am very aware of the fact now that sometimes the very best you can do is hope for the best. I have learned now that I can only say what I feel right saying, and I can only do what I feel right doing, and then people either respond as you had hoped, or they respond in a way that you had hoped they wouldn't. And when they respond in that way....you have nothing to fear or worry with. Because you can walk away, happy and hopeful and ready for all of the awesomeness ahead. I have learned that if a situation is making you unhappy, either figure out how to make it a happy situation or walk away from it. There's no point in making yourself and others miserable.

This is something that has become so clear to me in the last week. Conan O'Brien said it beautifully in his farewell to the tonight show speech:

"And all I ask is one thing...please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, its my least favorite quality. It doesn't lead anywhere. No one in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you are kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you, its just true."

Too bad Conan is in his 50s and married, because I would probably sell an organ or two to marry that man. Is that bad?

Don't answer that.

Can you believe how many good things are on the horizon? It blows my mind.

You are a very beautiful . . .

2010-01-20T18:24:00.008-07:00

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The above lettering is a literary version of screaming in my car at the top of my lungs, which I haven't been able to do today, but somehow, just writing it releases a lot of the frustration.

Don't be alarmed, it's nothing life threatening, just the ins-and-outs of life. Not even a big story or one worth recounting. It's merely the reaction it has caused.

Have a pleasant day. Stay dry. Heaven knows we're not dry out here. Go figure.

You are a very beautiful something new

2010-01-12T11:02:00.006-07:00

I got a little crazy and decided to start a new blog, Nibby in Wonderland. However, I think I'm still going to keep this one up, as another source of egocentric and tiresome rambling.

The other one is going to detail adventures and this one is going to detail some unrelated or maybe even supplementary thoughts. I don't know, we'll see if I keep it up or if this blog becomes something different altogether...like an advice column (you know who you are Heather Hathaway).

Ok, check it out if you feel so inclined.

XOXO,

You are a very beautiful penny for your thoughts.

2009-11-09T10:48:00.005-07:00

Real joy comes not from ease or riches or from the praise of men, but from doing something worthwhile. - Sir Wilfred Grenfell, 1865-1940

I skimmed past this quote today. It rang true to me, and it also gave a few insights into my messy cranium. I was challenged to make a list of things that make me happy and also a list of things that make me sad in my heart. Turns out that over the years my happiness has been pretty predictable. I realized as I looked through the list that my happiness is always exhibited through some sense of purpose or at least the idea that I am being utilized to my fullest. I seem to always get unhappy when I feel that I am not reaching my potential. I began to examine that more closely the other day.

(Note: The rest of this blog should be read with 1 part sarcasm and 2 parts charity. I am not really as bitter as this may read. In fact, I am much more perplexed.)

I feel that my current case of the "boo hoo, poor me, what am I doing with my life, waaaahs" has been due to the fact that I feel...well, less than purposeful on some days. It's almost too basic when I think about how predictable my moods are in that sense. It's too simple; they come on the days when I realize that I have been making coffee that I don't even drink, or when someone in my life chooses to explain something SO basic to me out of their own insecurities and need for control. We all know which moments I speak of. The moments when you feel like shouting "I HAVE A BACHELORS DEGREE! IF YOU CONTINUE TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHY ITS A GOOD IDEA TO TURN LIGHTS ON IN A DARK HALLWAY BEFORE WALKING INTO IT I WILL RIP YOUR ESOPHAGUS OUT!"

But I realize that these little moments for some people are all they have. It's actually pretty uncharitable of me to not just sit, listen and politely nod as they give a lecture on why its always a good idea to let the dishwasher fill for a few days before running it. After all, I am not better than any one else and they are not better than me so why can't I listen to a few healthy pointers. But for some reason, there are days where I let "pointers" nearly drive me off a cliff. And my beef is not with the actual advice they are giving, oh no, it all makes perfect sense, but it is the way in which people occasionally assume that there is a chip missing in my own brain that had the common sense data on it.

Los Angeleian's make me laugh that way. There seems to be a tinge of overcompensation. Maybe they are just trying to fight the stigma that other Americans have put on them that suggests they are not the brightest bulbs in chandelier, or that they spend too much time relaxing or Keeping up with The Kardashians (whatever it may be), but it is definitely something I've noticed. Most people here, including myself, seems to come up with an incredibly dull lecture series about something so insignificant but that suddenly becomes as important as Watergate. Maybe it's that this town loves scandal? Not sure. Trust me, I could recount some fantastically monotonous advice about how getting your eyebrows threaded should only be done by someone with at least 2 years experience, via the girl at the food counter the other day. You would think that the story would end there, but it didn't for some reason. It's actually kind of exciting if you think about it. It's cool to think that people can suck every ounce of juice out of a single piece of advice and then pour it all over you.

Just as I write this I realize that I am no longer going to even be remotely fussy about this. I realize how much this is a part of human nature. People wanting to impart their knowledge is not always an offensive move. It is frequently just their need to express the things that are rolling around in their brains. I do it, you do it, we all do it and so I should not let these little moments make me feel as if I am missing out on my purpose or anything else. In fact, maybe these moments are giving those people their sense of purpose. Yep, this is humanity and whether advice is given with a loving nudge or with a snotty shove, I will continue making the coffee and nodding politely and apologizing for things I didn't do and hopefully for the things I did do. And above all: I will continue listening to people give their beautiful - even if incredibly unimportant - advice.

I love everybody and I wish everyone the best in the crazy but awesome times ahead.

XOXO.

You are a very beautiful don't get too crazy!

2009-11-06T17:24:00.004-07:00

Yeah, I almost bought this airfare five minutes ago. But I refrained. I can be responsible. I can be responsible. I can be responsible.I should be responsible. I might be responsible.

:(

I will be responsible.

I'm lame.

You are a very beautiful simple.

2009-10-19T12:12:00.002-06:00

"We can begin to become more diligent and concerned at home by telling the people we love that we love them...Such expressions do not need to be flowery or lengthy. We simply should sincerely and frequently express love. … We should remember that saying 'I love you' is only a beginning. We need to say it, we need to mean it, and most importantly we need to consistently show it. We need to both express and demonstrate love." - Elder Bednar

XOXO (but I REALLY mean it)

You are a very beautiful VAAAHOO!!

2009-10-16T16:31:00.003-06:00

“I get my best ideas anywhere among the three B’s—the Bath, the Bed, the Bus.” – Albert Einstein

Unfortunately, as of late, I have not had a whole lot of time for any of those places. And as far as the bus goes, I think its probably best for now. L.A public transit is a little bit of what I imagine Alcatraz to have been. But, nonetheless, I am trying each day to find little points of inspiration, and of course, to brainstorm and write until I feel like reading someone else’s work….which is quite a lot lately. Reading, by far, has been the biggest improvement to my life since graduation and my big move to this great big honking city. Traffic has a definite plus side to it: during my commute or any extended amount of time in the car, I have been absorbing audio books like they are going out of style. And I guess, technically, books on tape went out of style quite a while ago, but I’ve been listening to them nonetheless.

Truman Capote said something to the effect of people losing 10 IQ points for every year they live in L.A. Although I think that was Capote being Capote, I do feel that this audiobook reading and leisure nightly reading I’ve been doing has been just the ticket to counteracting those effects, whether they be fact or fiction.

For those of you who have always wondered what it is like to live in a city such as L.A, or that have always been interested but just a little nervous to pursue it; let me assure you, when I talk to anyone out here most everyone here loves it with such a passion, but explain that they feel that they are losing their balance. Let me explain: there is so much to do and see and be a part of in this city, that the sheer amount of options mixed with your own discretion or values can quite honestly make you feel as if you are seconds form toppling over. Where should I go tonight? Should I apply for that? Should I audition for this? If I take this job will it ruin me for this one? Should I stay friends with this awful robber baron even though I hate him, just so I can get ahead? Should I take the 101, the 405, the 110, the 170, the 134 or the 5? (the answer is, sure, but just don’t plan on getting to your destination any time soon). And as a religious person in this neck of the woods, well, forgeddaboutit. (Not really, but I like saying, ‘forgeddaboutit’.) Values just make things all the more…challenging, but it is easy to see why they are imperative.

My friend Coryn gave me an excellent article the other day about finding a quiet center, and I have to say, that is the advice that every resident of Los Angelas needs. They need peace, they need lazy afternoons, they need to chilllax. And by they, I also mean me. I’m already a nervous personality as it is, and I find that this city’s pace can be like pouring coffee into that particular personality trait of mine. Everything should have been done YESTERDAY for people here. When they say, “How are you?” they really mean, “DON’T MAKE ME SHARE IN A HUMAN CONVERSATION WITH YOU OR SOMEONE WILL TAKE MY JOB WHILE I’M NOT LOOKING!” But, I find that I have met a few choice individuals already who have learned to take the fast lane mentality of this town and still go their own speed (much to the honking of other drivers/people). Also, even though its no New York City, people honk for no reason. Sometimes I wonder if its just a secret language that I don’t understand or if people are just trigger happy.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is…life is good, and seems to be getting better with each new day/trial. I am happy, I am healthy, and I am pacing myself.

XOXO.

You are a very beautiful GUY FROM "SPEED"?

2009-10-07T16:42:00.004-06:00

Fondest greetings from the land where the sun shines. Since this blog is essentially about nothing and everything, I suppose I should just jump right into the day’s intrigues.

First of all, I have a job. An awesome one. I’m very pleased with it and I’m anxious to learn more and keep on keeping on.

Secondly, sometimes it is slow and to occupy my mind without taking my mind off the work to be done, I will amuse myself with quotes. Today, out of something much further than left field, I begin to say, “Chanticleer, Chanticleer, Chanticleer.” in my mind. I began wondering, shortly thereafter, where this came from.

Curse you, Don Bluth! I can’t believe that after 15 years of not seeing a film that is, well, sub par at best, I began to call upon my childhood memories and a flood of second-rate - didn’t make the Disney cut - songs came streaming into my consciousness. That’s right, the film I speak of is Rock-a-Doodle (1991). I began to sing, “Sun do shine.” And I even started singing the Tying your shoes song…whatever it’s adorable title is. It really isn’t a bad movie, but it is perhaps the most obsolete thing I could have possibly conjured up on this day of all days, or really, any day.

Furthermore, there were two very slow hours at work today in which there were no tasks and everyone was basically gone to lunch. I decided I would work on my calligraphy while I sat by the phones. And what phrase, do you suppose, I wrote over and over and over again while waiting for the phones to ring?

“We Built this City on Rock and Roll. We Built this City on Rock and Roll. We Built this City on Rock and Roll….etc.”

I will be accepting donations for my admittance into a sanitarium on any day and in any form. I do accept checks, but a cashiers check is preferred.

Lastly, if an older woman that goes after a younger man is called a Cougar, what is the traditional way called again? Hefnerism? I’m not sure. Anyway, there seems to be a great deal of Hefnerism running rampant in this City (built on rock and roll). Last week, in one day, I was hit on by 3 (THREE) men who were not just my father’s age, but older. One of them looked like Dennis Hopper..and in hindsight…I believe it was Dennis Hopper. I would protect his innocence, but come on….it’s Dennis Hopper!

Anyway, I had just about had enough of it that day. I was just winding down by ordering my favorite dish at my favorite Chinese restaurant down the street, and BAM! I was Hefnered. So much so that I had to excuse myself and pretend to take a phone call. Yes, that’s right. I faked a phone call and literally pretended to be speaking to a business colleague for the entirety of 10 minutes until my food was finished. I didn’t walk, I FLEW to my car. Being confronted with Hefnerism gives you wings. You don’t need RedBull.

Anyway, I am liking it here more and more and I am also increasingly confused. I’ve got a lot to learn.

Will the REAL Dennis Hopper please stand up?

You are a very beautiful "HERE WE ARE! SUNSET AND CAMDEN!"

2009-09-20T01:22:00.005-06:00

You’d think that my blog would be filled to the gills with stories about California by now, and alas, it has not been. That does not, however, mean that I am not filled to the gills with stories about California. Believe you me, they’re all I have.

I am here. I am safe. The move went almost suspiciously better than I could have ever imagined. I love my place (swaaaaanky) and my roommate, and all is well on that front.

In other news--

Job Status: Temp.
Where: Anywhere that wants me.
Preference: Something that is actually in my field of expertise.
Progress so far: One waaaay wacko temp job assignment, with a better one pending.

Let it be known that I try to be an open minded person and never make a judgment about someone or something until I’ve met them or tried it once. Let’s just say that I’ve been meeting and trying a whole lot lately, and so far, I find that California is filled with helpful, friendly, wise, normal people. It is also filled with d-bags, morons, phonies, wannabes, jerk faces, psychos, crooks, and prostitutes (and I don’t mean people who sell their bodies). However, I have failed to see how this is really any different than where I used to live. After all, isn’t this the case with most of America? You find the people that make you proud to call yourself an American, and then you meet the people that make you want to move to St. Tropez with Johnny Depp (which, I guess some of us want to do either way).

But I digress….

In short, I am hopeful, I am remaining positive and I am definitely, definitely, definitely…a lot tanner.

California is a culture shock in and of itself, but L.A is like it’s own country with it’s own language and thousands of dialects; most of which include understanding what it is to get your eyelashes tinted, what short really is, and how to shave your legs, eat breakfast, put on a skirt, and read a script—all while driving down the 101. Luckily, I have not learned that last part of the language yet, but I’m sure it’s pure, deadly fun.

Let me give you a humorous dose of the 6 most common phrases you will hear when moving to L.A (to prepare you).

1) “Get a GPS! Duh!” (To which you reply, $400! Duh!)
2) “It’s only like…. 20 minutes away.” (To which you reply: “Really? San Diego is 20 minutes away?)*
3) “You’ve gotta have a lot of passion to do well out here.” (To which you reply, “A passion fruit lollipop doesn’t count, harlot!” and knock the candy out of their hands)
4) “It’s who you know.” (At which point I always pound my fist on a counter and say, “My family BUILT this country!”)
5) “You look like Tina Fey.” (To which you reply, “I am Tina Fey.”)
6) (and my most favorite) “My great uncle’s barber had a cousin who once wrote a joke for Jay Leno that totally almost aired. Do you want me to call him? I’ll see if he can get you a job at NBC.” (To which you respond, “Uhhh, knock yourself out?”)

On a more stellar note: the weather is amazing here. Everything you could ever possibly want to do or even not do is within your reach. The beach is minutes away (like, uhh, 20 minutes?*) and lastly, you will never forget when your favorite shows or movies come out, because they basically put them on every billboard and your bathroom mirror to remind you. . . or else!

Anyway, I’m excited for the rest of my adventure out here and I promise to be a better blogger.

GPS! Duh!

* I have found that most all Southern Californians believe that practically everything is just 20 minutes away. I hate to break it to you, but….it isn’t. It just isn’t, ok?

You are a very beautiful SAY WHAT?

2009-08-28T13:55:00.003-06:00

So, I have acrylic nails on right now. They were a graduation gift. I think they look pretty and they make my hands look longer--also, I've probably only had acrylic nails on 5 times in my whole life. However, each time I get said nails, I realize how stinking difficult it is to type with them. Sheesh.

Alas, I wish I were brave enough to post a picture of what 'my' room looks like right now, but that would be a lie, because its not even my room anymore. That's right, I have taken the plunge and I'm headin' out to the big city, but shacking up in my old room with my sister until I can officially hit the road. The room itself looks a lot like a warehouse stuffed to the gills with girlie decorations and miscellaneous moving boxes that we've rounded up from heaven knows where. One of moving boxes says, "DANGER" on it, and I'm beginning to think that there might have been plutonium in it at one point. Excellent. Hopefully I get radiation poisoning on my trip to California and then I'll look just like everyone else----

OOOOOOH SNAP!

That was unnecessary. I was born in California and it is treason to go their with such an attitude. And I won't, because I don't have an attitude. I'm just anxious to get this show on the road. Maybe I'll post a picture of what my car looks like when it is full of my meager possessions and NSYNC CDs (for the ride).

Ok, well....away we go!

Oh, and before the drop, here are a few pictures of my journey in the last few weeks.

Cheers!

You are a very beautiful NAIL BITING!

2009-08-06T01:31:00.003-06:00

It's happened to all of us. That movie that we'd like to resist watching since we know that it will hit a little too close to home. And yet, like a very unwise moth to the flame, we HAVE to view it. In fact, we would go out our way to see it, and become a metaphorical rubbernecker: staring at the damage out of morbid curiosity while miffing off other drivers.
(Ok, that last part might be an absurd stretch.)

I think this is soon to be the case for me and the film Post Grad (2009). Will it be any good? No idea. Will it hit home with the force of a jackhammer? Most assuredly.

I have spent the last 3 days having a complete and utter 'I- have- to- be- an- adult- now- and- I-don't- like- it-so-please-don't-pry-me-out-of-the-fetal- position' breakdown.

I need a job. I need a place to live. I need to jump off the gravy train. I need to take a giant leap of faith, and it is this last statement alone that nutshells my current state of being.

I know that I'm always asking for suggestions, comments or words of advice, but never have I more sincerely needed it. What are your suggestions? What are your words of advice? What are your cautions? I may be a little bleary eyed, but I can still read.

"Everyone say, 'Overpriced education!'" - Post Grad

You are a very beautiful YUM YUM.

2009-07-31T15:48:00.005-06:00

I'm sure many people wonder what's going on in the mind of a person such as myself, 24-7. Well, here are some images that sum of the inner workings of my noggin.

All day long.

The end.

You are a very beautiful #1!

2009-07-21T16:13:00.007-06:00

People can be terribly, illogically, and disgustingly selfish.

And that pretty much sums up my thoughts today.

But on a lighter note--

I'm totally done with statistics, which I have begun to lovingly refer to as Satan's contribution to academics.

Hooray!! Praise me!!

Also, I will soon be catching up on some of my shows. Gossip Girl being the first order of the day. Don't spoil it.

You know you love me (and that I care deeply for you, too),

You are a very beautiful EARACHE!

2009-07-19T13:27:00.009-06:00

So, most people who are close to me know that I'm relatively deaf out of my right ear (my right, your left) and this comes mostly from traumatic ear infections that I had as a child.

So I might be missing church today as a result of this not- so- happy occurrence. I only have two full days of this ridiculous class left, and to exacerbate the situation, I have an earache that makes it very hard to concentrate. The class is online, but having to sit up and look at my computer is just not doing it for me.

I hate doctors.

Ok, I take that back. I don't hate doctors, but I hate going to the doctor's office. For some reason, I suffer from the irrational fear that they will only make it hurt a lot worse before they make it better. The same with my asthma. They'll make me breath into a nebulizer for unconscionable amounts of time until my right arm slumps and I feel like vomiting.

I know, I know. They're supposed to fix your boo boos. But honestly, I just wish that I was brave enough to stick my own needles into my arm so that I didn't have to deal with the dread of someone else doing it, who's, quite frankly, been doing it for too long and could give a proverbial care as to whether or not it was excruciatingly painful that their hand was shaking while inserting the needle.

Ok, enough of this. The point is: I have an earache, and I haven't had one like this for quite some time. You see, having an occasional ear pain became very commonplace for me after a certain amount of time dealing with them as a youth. I feel a pain in my ear on most days, in fact. So, for me to have an earache that actually makes a difference after all of these years, really disturbs me.

Anyway, to top all of this off, I will show you what I watched last night to make me feel better, because apparently I'm a four year old and I need to be indulged when I'm sick.

Lest anyone wonder why I love this show, they should watch this right now.

Loads of enjoyment.

Remember: If your ears get tired of aching, pull over.

You are a very beautiful ARCHAIC?

2009-07-16T01:45:00.007-06:00

So, I read something today by sheer happenstance that has stuck with me even through my viewing of HP6 THBP (and yes, my completion of that film's acronym deserves a lot of praise.)

I was looking for a quote that I remembered from a long time ago, and I couldn't remember who it was who said it. So I googled the quote and I see that it is from a chap by the name of John Gray. Turns out John Gray wrote a pretty famous book that, although familiar with the title and the subject matter, I have never personally read. So, I got to read a little excerpt online with the help of Google books.

The following is an excerpt from the book that really irks me, but probably mostly because...its true? And secondarily because its expected. Read on, and my commentary will follow.

"Imagine a knight in shining armor traveling through the countryside. Suddenly he hears a woman crying out in distress. In an instant he comes a lives. Urging his horse to a gallop, he races to her castle, where she is trapped by a dragon.
The noble knight pulls out his sword and slays the dragon. As a result, he is lovingly received by the princess.
As the gates open he is welcomed and celebrated by the family of the princess and townspeople. He is invited to live in the town and is acknowledged as a hero. He and the princess fall in love.
A month later the noble knight goes off on another trip. On his way back, he hears his beloved princess crying out for help. Another dragon has attacked the castle. When the knight arrives he pulls out his sword to slay the dragon.
Before he swings, the princess cries out from the tower, “Don’t use the sword, use this noose. It will work better.”
She throws him the noose and motions to him instructions about how to use it. He hesitantly follows her instructions. He wraps it around the dragon’s neck and then pulls hard. The dragon dies and everyone rejoices.
At the celebration dinner the knight feels he didn’t really do anything. Somehow, because he used her noose and didn’t use his sword, he doesn’t quite feel worthy of the town’s trust and admiration. After the event he is slightly depressed and forgets to shine his armor.
A month later he goes on yet another trip. As he leaves with his sword, the princess reminds him to be careful and tells him to take the noose. On his way home, he sees yet another dragon attacking the castle. This time he rushes forward with his sword but hesitates, thinking maybe he should use the noose. In that moment of hesitation, the dragon breathes fire and burns his right arm. In confusion he looks up and sees his princess waving from the castle window.
“Use the poison,” she yells. “The noose doesn’t work.”
She throws him the poison, which he pours into the dragon’s mouth, and the dragon dies. Everyone rejoices and celebrates, but the knight feels ashamed.
A month later, he goes on another trip. As he leaves with his sword, the princess reminds him to be careful, and to bring the noose and the poison. He is annoyed by her suggestions but brings them just in case.
This time on his journey he hears another woman in distress. As he rushes to her call, his depression is lifted and he feels confident and alive. But as he draws his sword to slay the dragon, he again hesitates. He wonders, Should I use my word, the noose, or the poison? What would the princess say?
For a moment he is confused. But then he remembers how he had felt before he knew the princess, back in the days when he only carried a sword. With a burst of renewed confidence he throws off the noose and poison and charges the dragon with his trusted sword. He slays the dragon and the townspeople rejoice.
The knight in shining armor never returned to his princess. He stayed in this new village and lived happily ever after. He eventually married, but only after making sure his new partner knew nothing about nooses and poisons. Remembering that within every man is a knight in shining armor is a powerful metaphor to help you remember a man’s primary needs. Although a man may appreciate caring and assistance sometimes, too much of it will lessen his confidence and turn him off." – John Gray, Men are from Mars, Women are From Venus.

Now, while I heartily agree with the fact that sometimes a man just needs to feel like 'the man' and a woman just needs to feel like 'the woman,' there is still something amiss with this metaphor.

The princess = nag (for trying to help) and the Prince = once hero- turned victim-turned adulterer who is justified in so-doing because, well, after all, his woman, his princess, was giving him pointers. HOW DARE SHE! Trollop. And how dare WE, for that matter. But, if a man wants to give a princess pointers, well....point away!

Anyway, I don't say all of this to criticize Gray's work. I actually read some of the other pages and the man talks a lot of sense. And further, the purpose of this Knight story, in context, was to use a heightened example to describe the fundamental needs of men versus women in a relationship. And, although there is not an equivalent female 'knight' story, there is a decent amount of explanation of a woman's unique needs, and honestly, I can understand people conducting themselves in such a manner in order to keep a relationship afloat, but what I can't understand are the ethics. Is it right? Is it right to feign stupidity? To swallow your personality, your talents, your know-how? These questions apply to both men and women. Is it right, as a human, to conceal such things?

You decide. You be the judge. Let's take it to the people.

What do you guys think?

PS) Hmmm, it's kind of funny that I had a million other things to do today, and about half of which I accomplished, and even though this little 'metaphor' was just a blip, somehow, I found it important to blog about. What else is new?

You are very beautiful WENDY PEFFERCORN!

2009-07-03T23:28:00.006-06:00

"She don't know what she's doin', she don't know what she's doin'."

"Yes she does. She knows exactly what she's doin'."

Hello Americans and Non-Americans alike,

I have a dream, a dream that one day everyone will watch The Sandlot (1993) on every 4th of July.

I sit here now on my bed that is too small for two, with my little sissy, Riley. We have been excited for weeks leading up to this holiday. I don't know what it is, but Independence Day has always filled me with such joy and excitement and independence and Julyness. I just love it. Riley says, "It's like it's not summer until it's the 4th of July." Well said, Riley. Well said.[I just lovingly patted her on her Cindy Lou Who head and scooted her off to bed...kidding...she's still here.]

As we have reflected on why we love the holiday so much, we have come to the conclusion that we've had so many memorable ones, and also, it might just be because we're from the South. For some reason, The South is where Independence Day is epitomized for us. It's where the fresh lemonade, bbq'd hot dogs, apple pie, and Ray Charles are at their best. That's right, we've been listening to a lot of Ray Charles leading up to the day, and as a special gift to you all, we have added his rendition (the best rendition) of "America the Beautiful" to my blog playlist. Enjoy.

Of course, there is more to it than that. The Sandlot is the one film that we feel summarizes our feelings towards life, America and our 4th of July experience. It rolls baseball, friendship, family and food into one film and with such simplicity that its profound. So, to give everyone an extra dose of our rendition of the 4th, here are some pictures of some places and things and quotes that sum up the day for us.

And speaking of those beach men, here is not only a 4th of July tradition, but a midterms and finals tradition. Whenever my sister and I get the study-blues, we just put THIS in and we're immediately happy. (I especially love when Annette puts the tambourine down so she can really get down....sorta) Also, it seems that campy Disney films and vintage Mickey Mouse Club episodes sum up 4th of July for us. Talk amongst yourselves.

And now...

"....Anyone who wants to be a can't-hack-it, pantywaist, who wears his momma's bra, raise their hand."

[Courtney and Riley raise their hands]

You are a very beautiful HOT N COLD!

2009-06-25T00:38:00.004-06:00

So, my recent days have been funny.... One minute I’m up and so jazzed, or confrontational, or angry, or incited, or excited, but the next I’m literally so confused, so without direction, so apathetic, so…lonely. I’m telling myself that this is simply a season of my life in which I am privileged (yes, errrr, privileged) to be going through such highs and lows. However, I usually think this during the high times, and during the lows I want to shoot me for ever thinking that during the high times. Furthermore, I am telling myself that all of this is on-account-of-because everybody has abandoned me for the summer, and I’m stuck here in Teenage Wasteland, literally getting schooled by a beastly statistics course.

Essentially, it boils down to this: I hate statistics and it is giving me anxiety. I want to be so many other places right now, and with so many people, and I am longing for….

Well, that information is too privileged for the general readership….for now.

How about you guys? Is this a feeling you are currently experiencing, have experienced in the past, or are planning on experiencing it? That would be SO cool if you were actively PLANNING on experiencing certain strange emotions. We might have to become best friends, if that were the case.

If anyone has awesome insights, I would gladly give them my first-born. Second children are better anyway (they crack wise and harbor bazaar emotions).

You are a very beautiful WHAT I'M DOING VERY SOON!

2009-06-12T15:56:00.009-06:00

This is what I need lately, and this what I'm going to give myself.

One night of....

+

Which roughly ='s regrouping

Love,

You are a very beauitiful ESCAPIST ATTITUDE!

2009-06-12T15:20:00.004-06:00

The above logo is the key to all creativity, all happiness and all debt. It is my go-to escape destination (particularly when Paris, Italy, New York or London are off the docket). If you are not familiar with this store, than you should browse through here and familiarize yourself. You CAN buy happiness and it is at Anthropologie. But another cool thing is that you don't have to buy a thing there to also bask in its happiness. I could write a love letter to Anthropologie, and I think I will.

Dear Anthropologie,

You...complete me.

Yours entirely,

You are a vey beautiful UNDERQUALIFIED!

2009-06-07T19:09:00.007-06:00

A blog on L-O-V-E for you all.

This is for all of my friends who are grappling right now. I am going to be ultra pretentious and act like I have something substantial to say about a massive and perplexing subject.

Increasingly, I have lately been talking with friends and dear ones, and these friends and dear ones have sat with me and have shared in mutual commiseration over this fickle, painful, messy, head-scratching thing called love. We eventually come to find that it is less like the movies, and more like our favorite songs. It turns out that people wrote those songs with more than just a catchy tune in mind. There was a deeper, underlying pain, frustration or gob-smackedness that preceded it.

Further complications come when we realize our own parents can’t even explain it. They can tell us that it worked for them, but they don’t have the key or the potion and we begin to feel a nagging sense of resentment towards them and their apparent happiness and ‘luck.’ Honestly, how can we be jealous of our own parents? We are the products of their unions. It’s like being jealous of ourselves. Or is it?

It’s really quite discouraging.

C.S. Lewis said of love, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” As usual, I believe he intended this statement to be a little esoteric and facetious, but there is a definite trend in this direction.

Without fail, all of my hurt, fed up, or heartbroken friends agree that the best plan of action is to continue on with their lives and take their hearts with them, but making sure to “…wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries,” as a diversion from all that is real and painful, locking it up in a casket or coffin.

But my brothers and sisters, my heart has been both wrung and broken before, as Lewis stated with such surety regarding the inevitable trajectory of love. But it has also been made unbreakable, impenetrable, and irredeemable. And let me tell you, the latter was the real misery. It was the real wrung and brokenness.

I enjoy the idea of love. It makes turds out of all of us and basically turns us into children in both the best and worst senses. And to tell you the truth, I think people acting like children isn’t that bad of a thing (said the immature girl). Sure, killing for love and going Othello on people’s derrieres could be potentially very dangerous and wrong, but there is a wonderment to love that I don’t believe anyone should be without.

Additionally, in the last few months, several of my friends have told me of stories in which they went out on a limb for love, and as a result of little or no return, they felt like incinerating their bodies, and some, literally attempted it (ok, not really).

Well, I’ve also gone out on a few limbs before, and I’ve got to say, it is always a great and dreadful day. I never feel more alive than when I do such things, and honestly, instead of desisting and giving in to my awesome potential to be a very mean old cuss, single and bereft of all compassion and tears, I find that I kind of prefer the messy alternative: The person who keeps others on their proverbial toes…including myself.

Thus, comes my response to all of life’s tough questions:

“I would walk five hundred miles
and I would walk five hundred more.
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
to fall down at your door.
DA DA DA!”

Join in if you please, but only if you have a really good/ bad Scottish accent. That’s right, I mean YOU, James McAvoy.

Furthermore, if you or someone you know has experienced this thing called love, and more specifically, have made it work--don't be selfish, share with the class. Leave a little comment that can linger on the minds of my MASSIVE amounts of blog subscribers. We'll turn this blog into something REALLY useful, like, Judge Judy. Yeah.

You are a very beautiful BLISS. PERIOD.

2009-06-06T19:16:00.003-06:00

Chuck, Ned, Digby, Pigby, walk in the snow, hand-hold = a very optimistic and hopeful me.