So this just broke my heart.
http://amotherthing.com/2013/07/getting-political/

I hope that I have sons.  I will teach them that they are just as welcome to do ballet as they are to little league.  They will wear whatever color they want, play dress up in whatever costumes they please.  They will be taught that love is from God and transcends gender, race, and stereotypes.
I was never challenged with an issue of gender roles.  I think that being a heterosexual girl, it doesn't come up much.  I'm in college, working towards a degree so I can be independent and support myself, as I've been encouraged to do.  I did sports and ballet as a child.  I was never told that I couldn't wear overalls or had to have my hair done up beautifully before leaving the house.
I can't imagine what it would have been like to be a boy.
There is such a stigma against boys playing dress up and doing dance and liking pink because people automatically think they are gay.  They're children.  And even if they are gay, they're still children.  People.  Men.
I think of Tom, one of my old friends who is one of the greatest depictions of a man that I will ever know, who is dating a man.  Why would that ever take away from who he is?
I know there's more to it.  I know that the bible says that sodomy is a sin, but I also know that there are hundreds of ways to translate the bible into english, and many interpretations.  I just don't believe that love so strong and pure, like that of many gay couples that I know, could be wrong.
I really hope that I have sons, because straight or gay, they will be taught to love whatever and whomever they desire.

Okay so cute.
I have been babysitting since 8:30 this morning (it is now 4:30) and I told the boys this morning that this would be the last time that I see them until after Christmas, as I am moving to California for a few months.
They didn't react.  They're boys.  And as much fun as I am, I'm just the babysitter.
But then a few minutes ago as we were watching the movie, the youngest came over and traced a circle around the chair I'm sitting in.  When he finished he just looked at me, nodded, and sat back down.  I asked him what he was doing and he told me he was made a force field so that I had to stay there and not move to California.
And then he proceeded to explain the features of the house's guest room that I could stay in.
So cute.
But alas, children, I must leave.
This was a good day to end it.
This morning we went candlepin bowling and played at the arcade, this afternoon we watched a movie and napped, and then went to the pool and swam.  And now we just ate dinner and are watching another movie.
I am wiped out.
But these kids are still going.
So tired.
1.5 more hours until I am babysitting-free for a whopping five months.
I don't even know what that looks like.
Anymore, I shall now return to the children.
Happy Tuesday!

Why do the voices of actors in old films sound so different than voices in today's films?
Old actors and actresses sound so distinguished and crisp and important.
Now they just sound like everyday people.
Is our diction and speech just way worse now, or was it the technology?
I don't think I could speak like these people if I tried.
I wish people still sounded like this.
I'm watching Sunset Blvd., from 1950.
I love it.
I love their voices and I love the script and the narration and I love Gloria Swanson's character.
It's great.
Anywho it's Sunday and I am sleeeepy so I'm going to take a nap.
Gooooooooodnight!

I love Stephanie.
Love her.
I can see us being 80 and still as crazy together as we are now.
She's at a Miranda Lambert concert right now, and Miranda Lambert sings "Over You", which is a song that I have listened to about a hundred thousand times in the last four months.
I told Steph that I love that song (and of course she knows why) and she just texted me saying 'I'll think of her for you when it comes on, love you".
A cliché and perhaps cheesy line, but it actually meant a lot to me.
She's the best.

We need a countdown.

Days left of:

Working in Boston- 2
Working at Gordon- 7
Living in my apartment- 15

Days until:

I go to New Jersey- 17
My friends come to Jersey for my birthday!- 18
I turn 21- 19
I leave for LA- 24
I see Tom- 25
I get to LA- 28
My semester abroad begins- 30

The summer is winding down, friends.  Time to get cracking on reservations for my birthday and internship applications.
Crazy.

My Heart's In Constant Chaos, And It Keeps Me So Deceived.

When Monica died, I postponed my faith.  I was hearing all of these songs about eternity and Jesus rising from the dead and being beautiful and how amazing God is and I was so angry.  I was angry that Jesus defeated death and Monica succumbed.  It wasn't fair.
I remember being so unsure of everything.  What was life?  What's the point?  Who is this God that I thought I knew?  That I thought loved me and wanted the best for me?
The only thing I was sure was that Monica did not deserve to die, let alone in a car accident because of some girl that was jacked up on alcohol and heroin.
I remember being so confused about being a Christian and about Monica's beliefs that she was so confident of, so secure in.  Why was this happening?  I needed her.
I remember the anger, and the confusion and the chaos, but I also remember listening to worship songs like my life depended on it.
And maybe it did.  In my life, there have been numerous occasions where my heart has been in chaos, especially in the last year.  I wasn't in a great place before Monica died, and when she did I was done.  In all of my life, in all of these times of chaos and awful times, I have only ever been able to find peace in reading the bible or listening to worship music.  It's not me trying to be a good Christian or me trying to earn points or fit in with my Christian friends.  It's not a show or a gimmick or a way to attract people to Christianity.
It's survival.  It's comfort and peace and everything I've ever wanted and needed.  It's the only thing that has ever really calmed the chaos in me.
I'm still having a hard time to coming to terms with my feelings toward God and His role in Monica's death, but I have never been able to abandon my faith, even when I'm angry and want nothing to do with God.  At the end of the day when I'm mourning and run down and desperate for air, it's the only thing I have.  And that, my friends, is the only thing I am really certain of anymore.

I usually try to stay away from "Christian" jargon because I want to convey my sincerity in what I say rather than sound scripted, but there really is no other way to say it.  I am so so blessed with the friends in my life.
This year has been awful.  Torn down and ripped apart, and they have been there to cry with me and listen to me cry and say the same things over and over.
Through all of this hell, they have really been the best friends that I could possible want/need.
And I count this as a blessing.

Tonight, We Are Young.

Do we talk anymore?
Maybe that's the wrong way of putting it.  I know we talk.  I talk all day long.  But do we actually say anything?
This sounds so pretentious and existential and hipster, but that's not my intention.  I just miss the days that I would stay up into the night talking with good friends about life and dreams and love and sex and God for hours and hours just because we could.
And now when I spend time with friends, we talk about our days and our plans and work and surface things.  We don't talk about what it would be like to be a fly on the wall or why we're afraid of relationships.  Are we too busy?  Or have we passed the age that people do this?
I just had a great night.
Kesh and Robby (her boyfriend) came to visit last night.  Tonight we went to a huge block party in the downtown area by my apartment, and then came back to my apartment.  It was nice to hang out in our (almost) complete group with Laura, Teebs, Kesh, Robby, and I.  And then Laura and Teebs left and Robby and Kesh and I had really great conversations for about two hours.  We laughed and talked and wondered and it was just a great night.  I miss great conversations.
And now I'm in an excellent mood.
Like, I could listen to John Foreman's Fall album and not be sad (it's a horribly depressing album).
I'm listening to spoken word artists and thinking deep thoughts and wondering why people hurt other people.
I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower today.  It killed me.  I didn't have very high expectations but it was really great.  The story kills me.  So good.
Life is just crazy.
This probably all sounds so odd.  Like I'm stoned or something.
I'm not, for the record.  But when was the last time that I sat and thought about how complex and wonderous and beautiful the world is?
How crazy it is that the sun is lighting another part of the world while we're in nighttime.  Other lives, with jobs and dreams and loves and thoughts.  It's crazy.  The world is so big.  And miraculous and crazy.
And my internship doesn't matter.
My car doesn't matter.
My clothes don't matter.
Moments like this matter.
Seeing the wonder and being inspired is what matters.
These are the moments that I feel like God is everywhere, flowing through everything.
The best of nights.

Listen to some Andrea Gibson; so good.

this is my favorite part:

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible

Just Keep Me Where The Light Is.

I've been staring at this empty post for about fifteen minutes.
What do I say?
There's so much in my brain right now, I thought it'd help to type it out.
But I don't know what to say.
Nothing is wrong.
Pretty much everything is going right, actually.
But lately I feel so...bad.
My jobs are good.
My friends are good.
My family is good.
My finances are good enough.
Am I good?

There's a solid chance that I'm just overly tired, but it's just a feeling I've been having for the last few weeks...everything on the outside looks so good and I want to be happy because it looks so happy but everything inside feels so bad.
Why?

I hate growing up.

Intern Season is Upon Us Yet Again

Tis the season to begin the internship search for this fall.  I feel like I was just in the midst of this for the summer season (oh wait, I was).
But I am back, yet again, to the routine of searching, contacting, and applying.  Polishing my resumé and re-writing cover letters that seemed so brilliant at the time and now seem stupid.
Awesome.
Tis also the season to clean up my twitter account.
No no, not for language or inappropriate content, but for movie reviews.
I trash movies from time to time.
Movies whose production companies I am now applying to.
And so, goodbye film analyses.
Maybe I'll make an anonymous account and trash all of the movies I want.
Or maybe I'll just stick to the usual witty (or at least I'd like to think so) tweets.

As time consuming and tiring it is, I kind of love applying for internships.
It's like a scavenger hunt.
I dig and dig through websites and linkedin and Facebook accounts until I find a phone number or email address of a prestigious company.
And then I call.
And call.
And call.
And then I promote myself and wait a week.
And call again.
It's great.

I'm also really competitive.  I'm interning in Hollywood, after all, along with a hundred other talented film students.  I need to give myself an edge.
Also, my films aren't that good.
My last one wasn't bad, but none of them are excellent.
I'm a writer, and a communicator.
I am not a cinematographer.
And thus, the films that I have personally filmed (all but one), are not the greatest quality.
And the people that I am up against have excellent films.
So I need to excel in what I do best - people and writing.  Which, luckily, translates into interning and the process by which I get an internship.  Communicate and write and repeat.

I know I can be good at this.
I love film.
It's the only thing I really really love doing.
I will get a good internship, which is why I am determined to work as hard as possible to create the best application that I can.

So that's my mood right now.
Some Sasha Fierce motivation going on right now.

The Fourth of July (And the fifth and the sixth)

4th of July weekend has turned out to be pretty fantastic.

And it's only Saturday evening!

On the fourth I walked from a friend's house with my roommate to this big beach celebration.  It was sweet.  There was live music and people everywhere and the weather was beautiful.

And the fireworks.

I am such a girl.  Fireworks get to me.  They're so cool and beautiful and romantic and I love them.

So that was great.

And then we came back and celebrated some more with Eli at the apartment.

I worked yesterday and then went to dinner at the adventure camp house, and then after about three showers and nearly passing out in my stuffy hot apartment, Melissa and I went out last night, which was a lot of fun.

And then today we (Melissa&I) were pretty miserable waking up because we didn't sleep well because of the heat and our fans just aren't doing the trick.

So we decided to spend the last of our money on movie tickets in a nice, comfy, air-conditioned theatre.

Twas the best investment.

We went to the mall really early (about 3 hours before the movie) just to walk around in the air conditioning, and then Melissa had the best idea: puppies.

So we picked out the cutest puppy at the puppy store and played with him for twenty minutes.  He was a cross between a french bulldog and a beagle.  So cute.

I still have scratches on my hand from his teeth.

So so stinking cute.  And I talked to the pet store guy who told me that all of the puppies from this chain store (Pet Express) are given homes (even if it means that the employees buy them - everyone at this store had at least three) and never put in shelters no matter how old they get.

So that's nice, and I shall buy a clearance puppy when I am older and have a stableish life.

Anywho then we saw Man of Steel.  Which was pretty good.

I probably won't see it again, but it was goodish.

Literally I would have paid ten dollars just to look at the main character for two hours.

I would have paid just for the air conditioning, really.

Anywho Henry Cavill is very attractive, so that was nice.  Insane muscles.

Anywho.

I'm now watching Arrested Development (I'm obsessed) and doing laundry/pinterest.

So that's nice.

Too bad it's still really freaking hot in here.

And there are ants everywhere.  

Not the defenseless little ants that eat up left over food or congregate when it rains.

The big ones.

The ones that bite.

They are everywhere.

So sleeping is problematic as I have felt them crawl across my leg or arm on several occassions each night.

And it's so hot.

But one month today I will be going to Atlantic City to celebrate my birthday with my closest friends.

SO EXCITED.

Anywho, I shall prepare dinner now and shower (for the twelfth time).

Happy Weekend!

Into The Deep

I spent a good majority of yesterday crying and freaking out about Monica, and I didn't even realize...
It's been three months.
Still not getting easier, but I know that she is home.
Of this I am certain.