Tag Archives: love

Confession: I desperately want to act.

27 Jan Sunrise silhoutte

Shortly after in 3rd grade I was told that I was not going to be in the gifted program, because I talked too much. I was told that in the program, you could do whatever you wanted to, and got a zillion field trips… it broke my heart.

That moment became something that defined me, that has shaped my life in so many ways.

That’s when I became shy. I was afraid of talking too much. I was afraid that my mouth would screw me over, to the point, of no-return.

I guess that would make it, my first, real, original fear.

You see, I’ve always been fearless. Before I could properly walk, my Dad tells me, I was climbing and subsequently swinging from the cupboards in our kitchen. At 4 years old, I broke my neck, and heights… sort of became a problem. But I could deal, I just got a little vertigo, and then, I’d cope. Didn’t stop me from jumping off of our roof all the time, and at the neighbor’s house we’d jump out of the 2nd story window, onto a tramp at basement level.

At around 6, during a particularly high-stakes game of hide-and-go-seek, I resorted to hiding in the dryer, and my little sister started the dryer, and ran off. Claustrophobia, ensued after I had to kick out the door of the dryer to get out, and avoid getting more bruised and hot than bearable. But that only lead to some slight anxiety, when I feel trapped. Most people are anxious when trapped, it’s not a debilitating fear, and it didn’t stop me from napping in our linen closet on the shelves, in a less than 1×1 foot space.

After an encounter with a teenage boy at the not-at-all-ripe age of 3 or 4, my comfort in regards to anything of sexual nature was damaged.

At 10, as a renowned tomboy who could kick ass at any sport, and literally kick anyone’s ass, I lost my guy friends because girls became “icky” and were too weak suddenly to play with. Which lead to the ultimate distrust of the opposite gender, and consequently most people. (You have to realize, these were guys I had hung out with since I was 4, and had spent the majority of my life hanging out with them, who suddenly dropped me, due to what was under my shorts.)

At 7, when I wanted to be a ballerina, and my dad finally took me to sign up for a dance class, and we left without me being in a class because it was so goddamn expensive. I resorted to my much more achievable dream of being a rock star, and wrote a million songs, only to be told that my gift was in song-writing and not singing.

I watched movies, lots of inappropriately adult movies that a girl as impressionable as me, and willing should not have been exposed to. Which led me to confessing my love of our next-door neighbor Ben, at the age of 8, who I so did not actually. Which led us to kissing a lot because that’s what people in love in the movies did.

I determined that when I grow up I was going to own a Siberian Tiger when I grew up after a trip to the zoo at 4, when I learned that siber-toothed tigers had been extinct for a long time. (My first choice of a pet, prior.)

My dream of becoming a clothing designer was dashed when my best friend at 12 Nicole, was better at sketching designs.

My dream of being a vampire, also was dashed when I reached 13, and still had no evidence that any real vampires had ever been alive, ever.

My dream of being a stuntman, is still alive, but I know that it would freak out my Dad, considering how scared he is of me using my tax return money to buy a motorcycle.

A job as an Art Director, Casting Director, or Pyrotechnic Technician is incredibly hard to come by. In Filmstudies/Filmmaking, I quickly learned that being the director, was not exactly where I belonged… or at least not when my scaredy-cat friends refused to get behind the camera, and I had to be the talent in every movie we made, as well as direct.

After every single play I’ve been in, (including 2 different versions of A Christmas Carol, oddly enough when I hate Christmas, plus rehearsals for a Christmas Play during Halloween is lame) I’ve always been inconsolably depressed, after closing night. Not only because being on stage is exhilarating and fulfilling, but because I always miss the weird in-jokes that happen during a production while waiting in the wings. As well as the queer mischievous nature that comes while working in a completely empty theater that may or may not be haunted.

Being an Actor was my older sister’s dream. Being a singer was my younger sister’s dream. Being an artist, writer, was supposed to be my dream.

It is in ways. I will always love writing, and creating art… but it is a lonely, solitary business.

All of the things above, as well as my weirdo ability to completely memorize a movie after seeing it 2x, are factors in why I want to desperately be an actor.

Being an actor, combines so many of the things that I love in this world.

I’m a dreamer. I do want to try everything out in this world. A production, it’s magical, whether it’s film or stage, you get to create something breathtaking with weird milk-water rain, clever camera angles, waving a thing of sheet metal to create thunder and lightening. You get to tell stories (which if the above doesn’t tell you about my love of stories, I don’t know what does). You get to show real, raw truth by deceit, illusion, strings and pulleys.

I can’t say there’s anything that tells more about human nature, than people pretending to be living lives, that they don’t live, loving people they don’t love in that way, pretending to be people who they aren’t. Trying to resolve a neat little problem in 3 acts or less, all while trying to possibly fit it under an umbrella overlying theme about what it means to be human.

I love memorizing lines, I love pretending to be someone and experiencing things that I’ll probably never experience in my real life. I love that I get the chance to go into the woods to escape my mother (who isn’t actually my mother) who locked me away in a tower, and meet my brother who’s trying to help his wife conceive a child by finding a cow white as milk, a cape as red as blood, hair as yellow as corn,and a slipper as pure as gold.

It’s the stuff that dreams are made of. It’s what my dreams are made of.

I realized this last semester when I was working 50 hours a week, signed up for 18 credit hours, and still wanted to audition for my school’s production of a space-age version of Romeo and Juliet (I was hoping for the part of Mercutio, because he’s the only one I liked.), and was heartbroken when I was too busy to do it.

I miss acting. Like writing, it’s an outlet, it’s a dream, and just a little unrealistic. But good things happen. It makes me happy, no matter what little parts I get. I want to do it. Plus, I seem to be pretty good at it.

I haven’t told anyone, the extent of how much I want to strike out in California and join a wonderful community of artists, and creative types… but right now, I don’t see many other options in my dream future.  For someone who has a pretty hard times limiting their options. That’s a pretty freaking big deal.

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Biker Envy

27 Mar

An annual ritual that I’ve had since the first time I rode on a motorcycle (at 12 years old, about 8 years ago) is “Biker Envy.” I plan on getting a bike. I’ve had dreams about my own bike. All of my dreams of adulthood since I was 12 have involved motocycles. I find myself checking out motorcycles the moment that it warms up to 65 farenheit in Utah, because that is when all the bikers start riding after a dry spell through winter.

This bike (although it’s a bmw which isn’t that good) it is a nice looking bike and appears that it would handle well, plus it’s survived this long…

This year, I got it bad.

Mostly because I’ve had my eye on a bike on ksl for 1 year, and it was sold last week. Mostly because that is going to be my first major purchase as soon as I can get a job, which will be this summer. But mostly because I’ve turned 20, and by now I thought I would have been riding a bike for 3 years. Plus it looks like I’m not going to be able to save up enough money to buy my bike until after the summer, which will give me a month tops to safely ride it before next summer. Which really hurts. It means that I won’t be an actual experienced rider until I’m 21, even if I do ride nonstop during that month.

Plus my Dad’s motorcycle (1978 Yamaha Verago 750) has a broken starter which means that I can’t even ride on the back until it gets fixed (which might take forever because my dad’s not even looking interesting in fixing it) and because all of my motorcycle riding friends have moved out-of-state.

I have Biker Envy so bad that when my friends notice a really hot guy on a motorcycle, and they think I saw him because my head was following his bike, I can’t even remember the gender of the rider. Because I’m busy checking out their ride. I also wave at every single rider, because deep down I know we’re cut from the same cloth.

I’ll admit I’ve been flirting with riders, too. It’s just a fact that bikers are hotter, though not so much if they have a bullet bike. Bullet Bike riders seem to not get the point of a bike, plus all of that plastic covers up what could be a powerful bike.

Whenever I walk past the motorcycle parking at my college to the bus stop and I see a younger rider strapping on their helmet, I’m always tempted to ask, “Can you just take me on a ride around the block?” Because I want a ride so bad.

I’ll admit it, I’m addicted to motorcycles and I have a huge case of Biker Envy, this year.

Back from the dead and better for it!

4 Aug

So the past few days have been horrendously stressful compared to what was before.

There’s a really good reason. I hadn’t backed up my novel on my computer since the 13,000 word mark and the computer crashed. (which has happened to me before… the only difference being… I was only like 3,000 words into it. So I really knew to back it up…. but I didn’t it).

To be frank, I was depressed…. all those 8 months of work… when I felt like I wasn’t just wasting my life was gone. Which actually meant I did waste all that time. My Dad felt really bad about… mostly I think because I came into his room tears streaming down my face and asked him where the set-up disk was… hoping I could boot safe mode from disk.

We’ve been having an effing-crazy virus that would pop up every 20 minutes and say that we had a virus and that we needed to take care of that… I’ve found random programs that have weeded their way into our system and hunted down every single one of them and rid ourselves of them. I couldn’t find this one… my dad believes it was in the browsing history… that my younger sister didn’t even know you were supposed to clear out…

Surprisingly enough, our computer didn’t die because of viruses…. it died because the harddrive was full… and couldn’t run because of it. The harddrive was full because my family has recently started using hulu a lot. Hulu saves the entire movie to your harddrive somewhere…. my little sister had been watching the O.C. for a couple days then… I think she was on the second season when it happened… we only have a 40 GB harddrive in the laptop… which is pretty good considering that it’s like 10 years old. I was never worried about it overfilling mostly because our main computer was a 20 GB for a couple years and we had never filled it.

But anyways… the sucker would not even load up safe mode…. and I admit I cried at the lost of basically my whole novel and the 8 months wasted.

My dad, who used to fix computers as a living started in on it. I didn’t watch because I didn’t want get my hopes up or put pressure on him…. I believe he must have worked on it for at least 4 hours… the poor guy… seemed like he wasting all of his time… until linux started up. Through Linux (which will run by C.D.) we were able to access all of the files and back them up. 

My Book was an astounding 119 kb in a .txt file which my Dad said was the biggest he’d seen and was really worried that it was too big to have the computer extract it. But it worked out! The Novel is now on a flash drive and on my Dad’s other computer.

I almost think that this whole thing… thinking the book was gone for 2 days was meant to motivate me this whole time….. Can I just say that I’m so glad that I didn’t blog about this while I was in Mourning for my book?

My Dad literally is a witch doctor of computers…. he did crazy voodoo and resurrected a surly dead laptop. I had never witnessed him fixing a computer first hand… especially when it was so important to the person that wanted it fixed.

Well, I’m over and out! Good luck, Good weather and Good Day
♥Aspiringtobesomeone

Who says you can’t love everyone?

2 Aug

So, in case I’ve never told you fine people… My favorite movie is Moulin Rouge. This has nothing to do with anything really. I’ve been freakishly busy with everything that life decides to throw my way… I’ll have long periods of freedom… but I can’t get to the computer to work on stuff… so all of my time has seemed a waste lately. I love Moulin Rouge, I love Across the Universe too. Two fabulous movies.

Like Christian (in Moulin Rouge) I’m where I am (in mind anyways) because I’m an aspiring writer… (and that I’ve been having every song in it stuck in my head to the point that I’m even having Moulin-Rouge themed dreams) I want to do something! So far, I haven’t finished a book… it’s not that I’m not terribly interested in it… it’s just that after a while it feels like I’m obliged to keep writing it. It becomes a duty.

I can honestly and quite seriously say that I’m a slacker. I don’t mean to be… honest to god, but it just sort of happens. I find myself manipulating people to get out of work… when I felt fine doing it… maybe even enjoyed doing it. I don’t know why stuff like that happens… I’m perfectly content… then I come back to consciousness to find myself ruining it for me…

I don’t know…. life has been weird… I feel like I’m going nowhere… (most likely because there’s so much I want to do) and like I’m running out of time to do it. Maybe I’m just too aware of my mortality. I don’t like it.

I realized last night that I’m really skinny. Not that I thought I was fat… I just thought that I was getting to a normal weight… I’ve always had a grossly high-metabolism (I mean… at 10 years old… I ate 17 slices of pizza in one sitting… in a contest… me against my older brother… he won with 23 slices). I weighed 45 pounds until 5th grade…. and finally in 6th… I shot up and weighed 60 pounds…. by 9th grade I finally reached 100 pounds.

I’m not anorexic… if anything the opposite. I’ve always been told how skinny I was my whole life… so I tried to gain weight so people would stop bugging me. Last night I realized that I was the embodiment of petite. I’m pretty slim… (something that I’d been trying to convince myself that it was just because I wasn’t through growing…) and I’m 5’6″.

Which might not be considered really short….but it is for my family… we’ve just been getting taller in generations. My Dad is 6’1″… My mother was 5’10… My older brother has finally stopped growing at 6’6 1/2″…. My older sister is 6’1″…. I’m 5’6″… that’s probably why I was so convinced that I’d keep growing….

But anyways… I’ve always been told that I’m really skinny… even by my friends… who know I hate it. I hang out with a lot of kids who are mildly obese… unfortunately because of it…. I didn’t really trust their judgement so much… mostly because I thought I had finally gained enough to be considered average or healthy. I’m still skinny, pretty stick-skinny… but honestly, I’m happy with where I am. I’ll be happy if  I get fat too. I’m just happy now… all works out in the end.

I’ve just finshed ‘The Giver by Lois Lowry‘ and can I just say that this is a must-read? I’ve been reflecting a lot lately… and this book told me a lot of things that I think I knew…. but hadn’t acknowledged it conciously. Memories are what are required to gain wisdom… that much is obvious by the phrase, “Wisdom comes by experience.”

I also realized why people believe me to be wise. You may still recieve wisdom by second-hand knowledge… so long as the person you recieve that knowledge from fully understands what is said. That you are of the same mind, so to speak.

I’m an empathetic. I’ve always hated this ability because it hinders me from moving on with life as would a normal individual. I’m not saying that I’m not normal.. I’m just saying that I haven’t had the ability to mimic what my impression of most people are. But I realize now that it at least in some way allows me to absorb the wisdom that comes with experience… other peoples’ experience… though I’m sure I do not understand fully the experiences… I get something out of it… y’know?

You’re always hearing how important knowledge is… how knowledge can be power and the such. I’ve never really, truly understood it to the fullest. I’ve agreed with it, I’ve supported, I’ve preached it… but never have I understood the full extent of knowledge. It is important to seek knowledge and understanding because in some way it allows you not only to make your own choices wisely but it allows you to help other people in some way. I’m not saying that you should be a know-it-all or anything of the kind. It’s important to understand. Understanding is what makes emotions… what could make a memory have meaning.

Take for instance, you went to a ball game with somebody 5 years ago. You might remember nothing of that day… except that it made you appreciate hotdogs a lot more… because you didn’t eat anything that day until ‘so-and-so’ bought you a hotdog. You became grateful for hotdogs… you became meek and humble and grateful just for anything to eat. You felt relief and love towards the person who purchased it for you. Maybe you felt a small smidgeon of what a starving person feels like and it made you grateful for whoever played a part in giving you the ability to recieve the gift of satisfaction… say in the form of a hotdog… or whatever else.

It is important to share experiences… maybe an experience isn’t life-changing for you in any sense of the word… but it may be for someone else.

Every event in your life… every conversation… every book you’ve read… every commercial…. just every experience has created you… it’s built up your feelings and your regrets… your downfalls… your hopes and dreams… and of course you must feel grateful to whatever has made you the interesting combination that is you! It is important to experience, to savor, to share… because otherwise you could become inhuman… our ability to experience is the thing that turns us to individuals… to be able to cry because you are at the zoo and you feel terrible that the animals are locked up and away from the life that they could’ve had… if they were not captured or injuried… when another person might be entralled at the ability to see so many animals without ever being out of the country.. to be perfectly accepting and happy with the variaty of life.

This is the secret to happiness: experience everything and savor every feeling and take it deep within you and allow yourself to be open and change! Never fear change. Never fear adventure… never fear anything! Life is meant to be experienced… pain is meant to be side-by-side happiness…. So that you may experience the fullness of happiness and enjoyment. Love these abilities… love people for what they bring to you… for their wisdom… for their heartbreaks and for their abilities… for their happiness.

Who says you can’t love everyone? I’m beginning to see that it is possible. Mistakes only take place when someone’s judgement is clouded by arrogance, ignorance and misunderstanding. So go out there and do something! Experience others’ worlds by books or movies… or even blogs! Share your experiences through whatever medium presents itself… be it paint, internet, conversation, or service, or love.

Oh! In case any of you were wondering about my haircut…. it went fine. They didn’t do the exact cut I wanted… and I was kind of angry because they cut it into a pixie cut… but I’m over it. I love my hair. It really fits my personality and I’ve been getting mega-compliments and I think it’s more than them just pitying me because I look like a dyke like I thought I did before. But now, if anything, it looks more girly than my last cut… I’m proud of everyone and such. I feel like I’m where I should be.

Thanks for listening… may you live in experience and take pleasure in knowledge and learn the secret of happiness.
Love♥
-Aspiringtobesomeone

Life Could Be Yours.

15 Jul

Okay, so I’ve been busy… but I just feel like telling you guys about the beautiful things in life…. like the truly beautiful things in life.

I’ve recently started babysitting (mostly because I can’t find a job and I need some sort of money) and I realized something amazing about kids… they really think that you can do anything… they have this belief that once they’re your age… that they can do anything! The fact of the matter is: You can. You really can.

Somewhere in the middle of growing up, you lose that idealist attitude… suddenly the world becomes concrete with certain rules and expectations that no one can break. Think about everything that you’ve ever wanted, maybe you wanted a pony when you were little… maybe you wanted to fly… whatever. The reality is, possibilities are only limited to your imagination! Where there’s a will, there’s a way. You could have that pony right now if you wanted it… you could find a nice alternative to flying… say, skydiving or maybe you could be an astronaut to actually feel what it’s like to literally fly with nothing stopping you… not gravity, nothing.

I’ve been talking to my older sister lately, and what’s sad, what is truly sad is right now… this part of her, the part that was literally her personality while growing up is dead. She doesn’t believe in any possibilities anymore… She’s told me that she’s up against a brick wall…

I’ll tell you basically the situation. She’s had 3 cars… First One: transmission broke, Second One: some jerk smashed into it on the highway maybe a week after she got it, and the Third One: it’s been running for a few weeks… been working perfectly…. than it starts shaking and now it’s transmission has gone out. She has a loan on this sucker and has to keep up on her car payments and her liability insurance and save up to either get it fixed or get a new car.  Which I admit: Sucks. I feel for her, I really do. She’s working part-time, 2 10 hour shifts a week… so she’ll be able to get another job to save up for college and all those things. She can’t find anything… no one I know can find anything… I’ve been looking for a job myself. So have a couple good buddies of mine….

Basically even at the crappy minimum wage (jobs previously renowned for hiring needy teenagers who are saving for cars) places where they’ve always had a revolving door haven’t been hiring… or at least hiring teenagers… Which I can understand… the economies bad… blah blah blah…. major unemployment.. many people with kids you need the job worse than some teenager living in their parents’ house.

I get it. Fact of the matter is: My dad needs us to get jobs so we can be paying for our expenses and helping out with the bills… I know kids who are in worst cases too… kids who the moment they were fourteen are expected to pay for room and board.. the school fees and other such stuff… basically if they need anything they pay for it. Mostly because deep down their parents didn’t want kids and are stuck with them and want to either make a profit off of them or get rid of them A.S.A.P…. I realize that me having a job right now makes it so that some poor recently unemployed family may have to pawn off stuff to eat or such.

It sucks. I wish it wasn’t so…. I wish we were back in the thriving nineties where you could expect candy bars to 5/$1, or even as low as 6/$1… now we’re up to 79 cents on average for a candy bar. Honestly that’s the way to measure inflation overall just look at the prices of candy bars rise.

But anyways…. back to that problem with sis, she believes that she can’t do anything to make her funds more happy and that if she gets a new car it’s cursed… but the one she has must be cursed so after fixing it up she’s planning on selling it. She doesn’t trust in the world to take care of her…. this is a common problem with adults…. that I’ve seen anyways.

A few years back… maybe 2 or 3 I had a very philosophical conversation with someone… I think it was my older brother… now I don’t remember this conversation nearly at all… but at the end of the conversation I started to get thinking… and realized, “There’s no reason to worry, until that something happens.” Which I’ve found is very true. Should you worry about going into a coma? Should you stress about the possibility that you could go into a coma because of a car accident and take ridiculous precautions to prevent that from happening? (Such as, wrapping yourself in bubble wrap from head to toe, if you leave the house.) There’s no need to be paranoid, there’s no need to worry and what’s going to happen, will. The fact is, that I believe that certain events in our lives are not coincidences. If you are meant to die in a revolution to become a saint to someone who comes after you, then you will. Everything you do is to just sculpt you into who you will be. You have to go through trials and all that crap to become the best you possible.

I’m not crazy religious, I haven’t learned this at a church or anything and at the moment I don’t know if I believe in any higher beings… or creators or guardians (Past those that love you ie: father, mother, best friends, sibling, the love of your life.) I’m not trying to preach or to dis on anybody’s God/Goddess(s). The fact of the matter is, it’s hard to believe that the crap I’ve been through has no purpose and this explanation makes it easier to live through… the belief that something good and pure will come out of all of this weird crap. I don’t believe that this is some punishment for the “original sin” (I don’t believe in the original sin btw) I simply believe that somewhere out there the crap that I’ve gone through will help someone. I have to.

God, I get off-topic so much. Life is meant to be enjoyed. It isn’t meant to be worried over. It isn’t meant to be a journey to get the most money. Life isn’t even meant to be anything really. Life is literally what you make of it. Life is simply, yours.

A Very Good Morning

A Very Good Morning

Just so you know about this picture. I woke up at around 4 am, to go climb a mountain and get a picture of this sun rise. I admit it was crazy, and pointless and I literally did it because I could. I was so tired… and it probably wouldn’t be worth it to other people… but we double trespassed, gave blood, sweat and tears to take a few amazing shots… and I loved every second of it… It was thrilling. You can find beauty in anything.

Good luck in all that you do.
-Aspiringtobesomeone