There's so much to get caught up on. I keep thinking I've got more time, but really I don't. I never do.

the karaokumentary is eating my soul. Every time I plan to work on it, something seems to get in the way. Well, no more. Beginning Sunday, I plan to make a hard-n-fast schedule for finishing the damn thing and getting it out of my hair for good. What I have left to do on it is both so little and so much. Re-putting in the interviews when the interviewees have said slightly different things than they did the first time means rearranging parts of the documentary itself, and that's the part I'm not looking forward to. I also have a couple new interviewees to add, AND there are sections of the film that I need to take out entirely. It's really quite a mess at this point. Supposedly this work is fun for me, but it's not fun when I've got other stuff hanging over my head.

I'm officially halfway through my German material for the summer. With all regular points calculated, I'm at 92%. The cutoff for the A (as opposed to the A-) is 93%. I'm really hoping that the TWO songs I sang in class will push me over the edge. Did I mention I was a grade whore? Oh yes.

For the record, as much as I kind of loathe the process of learning German (or any language), I really appreciate how much I know now, compared to what I didn't know before. On the last day of class we watched the first episode of this show that's meant for German language learners, and I easily understood just about everything everyone said. When I first saw that episode I was kinda lost, lol. Now it's just funny to me. It's cool to see my progression. I still have trouble understanding when someone talks fast at me, but that's just because I don't process language through my ear as well. I get kinda jealous when I notice people in my class who DO process well through the ear -- they can pick up on what the teacher is saying so much faster than I can. Oh well.

Anyway. Yesterday FGP asked me again whether I'd be taking third-year German in the fall. I told him no, but I have actually considered it. I know that some PhD programs in English will take, instead of partial fluency in two languages, high fluency in one language. And to be honest, there aren't too many other languages I'd really like to learn. UO doesn't offer Gaelic. They do offer Old English, but I'm not sure that's acceptable as a second language to some programs (even though I certainly consider it such). I have absolutely zero interest in learning French, or Spanish, or Japanese or anything else. If I had time, I'd do more tootling around to see what requirements are for other more programs (woo with the English grammar this morning!). High(er) fluency in German would be pretty cool, even if I never actually get to Germany.

But as of now, my schedule is set for fall. I really really really want to audition for choir, and the amount of work that goes into German eats away at everything else I need to do. I would definitely be at UO for a third year getting this MA, which has its benefits but at what cost? I mean literally what cost? How would I afford a third year? I'm pretty sure my government loans would be completely tapped by then, so it would mean needing to get full-time GTFs through folklore or other departments in order to cover tuition. And then I'd probably need a job on the side for extra expenses. This is not even to consider down the road when I DO find/get into a PhD program.

Okay, I'm cutting myself off from that line of thought. It's not RIGHT NOW, and RIGHT NOW I already have too many things to worry about: karaokumentary; making contact with my contact for possible pA thesis/film?; reading more material to prep for fall reading class with Wojcik; deciding whether or not to continue in German; writing the other song for Arwen's movie; getting creative myself with new songs/writing; publishing said creative stuff; getting John set up for HIS school in the fall; cleaning up this place for a lil party tonight; recovering from last night's shenanigans.

P.S. If I drunk texted you last night.....you're welcome? LOL

Singing on a dark stage, the crowd
silent,
staring forward.
She sinks deeper into contralto,
the pulsing darkness keeping sweet time.
She sings to herself, the song a lullaby
to distant memories, fresh goodbyes,
everything she should remember
until she shrugs it away.

I don't know how yet, or when, but there WILL be a (short) trip out at some point. My friend from German class, Mary, and I are planning at least one weekend adventure to the Oregon Coast, a pilgrimage to the Newport Ripley's Believe It Or Not! Museum. A posse for that adventure would be awesome-tastic. Everyone needs to see the Star Room (that's what I call it) at the end.

Seriously. If you're reading this and you're local and I know you and there's the slightest chance you can do this (there are two of you for whom I know all these conditions apply), start thinking about it. Of course, Mary and I have to wait until we get the syllabus for the next German course before we can really pick a date, but it is so on. It has to be. If it isn't, I will go insane. Mark my words. And your calendars.

I want out. I want out so bad it hurts. This is the worst thing about doing continuous school without a break...my inner Sagittarius is seriously rebelling. We want to explore, to get some passion back, to have at least some time where we don't feel trapped by the goings-on around here.

Not to say that all the goings-on are bad, mind you. They're not. Quite the opposite, in some cases (winkity wink). Not the point, however. It's just something in me, something that crops up every so often. That need to escape. Escape myself, escape this town, escape into something surreal, dreamlike. A drive with no real destination. Music without words, something that sings to the horizon. Stop here? KEEP GOING.

It really does physically hurt. It's like a heaviness in the chest when I think about it too hard. And what makes it worse is that, right now, I can't get out. It makes me want to find other ways to escape. Some way to alter my consciousness temporarily. It doesn't have to be booze or other drugs, either. There are many ways to alter consciousness. Those things help a little bit. And every little bit makes it less likely that Tiffany will go postal.

I feel kinda funky this morning. Sad. Not sure why. I shouldn't...today's a day I've been looking forward to for quite awhile. And the scale went down this morning. And I didn't do as badly on yesterday's quiz as I thought I had. Same goes for my last essay. I cannot fathom what's making me feel this way. I'm getting all my vitamins. I've been exercising. I'm ahead on my homework.

Mayhap I'm picking up one someone else, but it doesn't feel like it. Not this time.

Not interested in full sentences. Quickie update.

Happy late birthday, Navaz! So sorry I didn't say on the day. My bad. :(


Managed to actually lose a pound or two in the last week. Amazing. Attributed to major efforts in exercise arena.

One more week of German, and then.....another four weeks of German. Woohoo!

Made progress on karaokumentary yesterday. Small progress amongst the WoW, but progress. Now feeling the project is somewhat more manageable (though still huge). Today: pruning another interview.

A feeling that there's some drama going on regarding this weekend. Not sure, can never tell about these things, but if push comes to shove, I know whose camp I'm in (that is, if for some reason it comes down to a choice).

Tiffany is not a fan of that kind of drama, btw. Never was. Always avoided it, will continue to do so.

Full week ahead. Possibly tomorrow or Thursday will make a quick quick quick run to Portland to visit Jen Carr while she's in town (OMFG YAY!), and Wednesday is HP6 (don't tell my cousin I'm seeing it! Oh wait, this is a public post, lol. But he doesn't read my blog, so there). Friday...I dunno. Depends on whether this drama is real or something in my head. The rest of the weekend is top secret. (Intrigued? You should be.) In between there will be editing work. There must be. I refuse to do this thing at the last minute, because that sucks.

Okay, full sentences emerging, time to stop.

P.S. The thunderstorm yesterday was incredible. So close it made the windows rattle and the spiders run for cover. Where did they run to? Our apartment, of course.

A dream told me this morning that I'm really feeling trapped by money (or, rather, the lack thereof). As if I needed that dream conscious manifestation. Tuh.

already too many drunk emails and texts. a drunk lj post might be the death of me. especially if i keep rehashing the same shite. allz i know is that the stars will long be there, but i won't. eternal, the void. it is so beautiful.

Happy Year Six Surgiversary to me, I guess.

So this is Day Two of the New Beginning. Some may wonder what makes it new, but if I have to explain it, you're probably not "in it."

Anyway, something truly bizarre happened to hunny yesterday. Apparently while I was in school, he got a voicemail on his cell phone that contained only a 10-15 second clip of an Enya song called "Angeles" (from the Shepherd Moons album). The voicemail only revealed a part of the first stanza before it cut off.

( full lyrics under the cut, in case you're interested )

Now, hunny's first thought was that I did this. This is a reasonable assumption only in that I'm a huge Enya fan. In fact, when he played me the voicemail, I identified the song and the album immediately. (Oh, how he wishes I could do that with Led Zeppelin!) On the other hand, it's not possible. I do have Enya music on my mp3 player, but not that one. Further, I was in class when he got the message, and I turn my phone off. Finally, that is just something I would never ever do. I'd rather sing to somebody over the phone than try to play him/her music.

Apparently there are only two other people who have hunny's new cell phone number: Bruce, and his aunt Murphy. We are 100% positive that neither of them sent the message.

The only other logical explanation is that it was a message meant for somebody else. Someone dialed hunny's number by mistake in sending that voicemail. Not likely, but possible.

Of course, we are not always rational beings. And while hunny is a fallen Catholic, he is still a firm believer in angels. And yesterday morning was not great. His main goal for the day was to get through to an unemployment agency to see about starting another claim. If you've done this recently (especially in California), you understand how difficult it is. He spent the entire day trying to get ahold of either California or Oregon. When I came home and told him what the song was, he had a bit of a meltdown. I mean, think about it. Of all the Enya music out there, it's the one called "Angeles." Even I noted that it was pretty strange.

The end of this story? Hunny finally got through to both California AND Oregon in the late afternoon, and I guess Oregon is now able to open a claim for him. Further, they say they can combine his OR earnings with his last CA earnings so that his claim is bigger. Huzzah!

Make of this what you will. Strange coincidence or actual angel intervention, I don't care. I'm just relaying the story.

I have come to the conclusion that my hormones are more messed up than I thought they were. Honestly, I get so off-track with things like PMS and whatnot that it's hard to work around it every month. I haven't heard of other people in my circle having this problem, at least not that they've told me. It sucks: for two weeks I'm really gung-ho with everything I need to do, including eating right, exercising, getting homework done and working on projects, and then for the next two weeks everything derails. It's no wonder I can't seem to get into any consistent routine.

I've considered taking hormones (like a birth control type thing) just to regulate myself, but A) the primary purpose for said pills is unnecessary for me, and B) the whole idea of it just makes me squick. I know there are more homeopathic methods to regulating hormones, but I haven't done enough research to really consider that, either. Right now it's just something I'm noodling over. Allz I know is that, right now, I cannot afford to be taking more pills. I mean literally cannot afford. With the "no-income-coming-in" scenario we've got right now, even paying $17 for a camping tent is excessive. And there are things I'm going to HAVE to buy, such as an outfit for my movie role (hello, thrift stores!), gas for at least one weekend in Portland, usw.

Anyway, I deal. Right now is the beginning of the good two weeks, which always makes me feel more productive and great about myself. (Losing five pounds of water weight in three days also helps.) I worked out for an hour this morning even though I wasn't really feeling it. I'm currently drinking water (usually a struggle for me). I'm ready to get some good German in and work on editing my film today. It's supposed to be cooler today, too (yay, heat wave over!).

Alright, to it!

Why do I push myself so hard? I really could have had the summer off, taken second-year German next year. Yes, it would have meant that I'd like be in the folklore program for three years. But this is not unusual for me, to take longer than everyone else to finish a degree.

BA: five years

MFA: four years (five if you count that completely wasted year at NYU)


This is going to sound really really really stupid, but part of the issue is money. I don't have the money to be spending any more extra time in grad school. As it is, I've been seriously regretting my MFA degree for awhile now. Who needs a degree to be a decent writer? Christ. It opened doors, sure, but those doors would have been opened eventually anyway.

My life seems to be one perpetual detour. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I want to be everything, and I want it done yesterday. I kinda hate that I have to pick a path. I want to study anthropology. I want to study folklore. I want to study literature and film and popular culture. I want to study religion. I want to study the post apocalypse. And I want to write stories and make music and make movies about all of it.

I used to have a path. It was so easy. Get a PhD in English, and teach. That was the path for a long, long time. Somewhere along the way, the path got derailed. I don't mind that, actually. What I do mind is that, while I'm fine with being permanently derailed, society won't let me do that. If I want to stay in academia, I have to have a focus. FOCUS!

All of this makes me question my commitment to being in academia. On the other hand, I can't see myself anywhere else. Out in the field? Making movies? Can I make a living like that? Being an artist? Can I survive like that?

FUCK SURVIVAL AND FUCK MONEY AND FUCK THIS WHOLE NEEDING TO FIND A BOX.

I know at least one person who's not going to like me saying this, but here it is: I'm kinda sick of learning German.

This is due at least in part to the fact that I got my first ever "B" on a German essay. Generally, when I write essays in German, I work on them for literally hours. I go over them to see what I can fix. I usually wind up having to hunt for specific vocabulary I don't know in order to say what I want to say. I mean, seriously. I consider my writing of German to be one of my best skills. So to receive a B is disheartening.

I know that I'm dealing with a native speaker as a teacher/grader, and I'm sure this ups the ante, as it were, in terms of the grading. But honestly, it's not just this one essay that has me in a tizzy. I'm just tired of the whole thing right now. This is why I only got through a year of Spanish back when. Learning other languages exhausts me, and once I get past the basics, I see little reason to learn more.

Yes, I understand that learning a foreign language opens up whole new reading possibilities, as well as giving me skills to communicate with anyone else who can speak that language. The problem is that I don't see myself really doing either of those things. My research/reading interests are pretty tightly focused on American literature, and they always have been. Translation is not in my future. As for speaking it....well, the idea of ever actually getting to Germany is kinda laughable (in a crying sort of way) at this point.

Thus, I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated because I'm at a point in this learning cycle where I'm tired, where I feel like I'm behind and I can't ever catch up. I honestly can't say how I'm going to react to the essay when I get it (I've only seen the grade online), so I have to see what my mistakes were before I can make any attempt to fix them. Hopefully she'll give us the chance to revise. That's really the best I can hope for. But honestly? The idea of it just makes me want to cry.

I'm not cut out for learning foreign languages. I'm more interested in the sounds than the meaning, truth told. When I had the choice between two years of language or four years of fine arts in high school, guess who stayed in choir for four years?

Ultimately, I'm doing this because they're making me. Certain degrees require proficiency in foreign languages. I think it's kinda stupid, even though I understand where they're coming from.

Okay, I'll stop whining. I don't like seeing or hearing myself this way. Normally, when I'm faced with an obstacle, I get crazy for a little while and then work on finding a way to fix it. Right now, though, I'm just fucking tired.

(If talking about the body and weight loss and exercise are triggers for you, move along.)

( It's a bit long, so I'll spare the friends page. )

Since my eyeballs are currently blurry from all the German, I'm taking an English break to post about my experience over the weekend working on Arwen's movie.

First, a summary: my acting for this film consists of one scene wherein I get to die. I've never died in dramatic form before (well, not in front of people anyway), so we'll see how that goes. Additionally, I'm supposed to be working on a couple of small songs for the flick, a workers' song and a nursery rhyme that's sung between two of the main characters. This I am thinking about diligently, even if I've not yet recorded anything.

Finally, I'm also "on call" to help out as necessary and as my schedule permits. Thus, I found myself on set Saturday in the role of "production assistant."

When I got there the place was fairly frantic. Guys were outside the house shielding the windows from the sun, and the inside of Arwen's house had been neatly transformed into a living room on another world (sorta, you know). They worked with the lights and camera for some time, since it was a pretty tricky scene to shoot, apparently. Tight space and all that.

Never having been a production assistant, I had no idea what duties I might be asked to perform. However, I walked onto the set with full confidence that I would be made useful. My very very first task? I helped Rachel put a piece of green fabric over Arwen's fireplace so that it might be transformed in editing to a fishtank. Then I was asked by the producer (I think he's the producer, anyway) to stand first here, then here, in order to help him frame the scenes they wanted to shoot.

After that it got more interesting. Arwen asked me to read a voiceover part in the script that would eventually be dubbed over in post. This I got to read several times, and eventually Arwen asked if I wanted to do the actual dubbing later on. (Naturally I said I'd be thrilled.) But my most important task, it seems, was making everyone pizza. This involved doing things I'd never done before, like cutting peppers. I mean, I'd seen people do it on TV, but I'd forgotten most of it until I actually started cutting. Luckily I gave myself enough time to figure out this crazy pepper-cutting thing. I also chopped up broccoli and olives to add to the frozen cheese pizzas. For awhile there is was a bit hectic, since I was still reading that voiceover line for the scene, and I had to go back and forth between doing that and making sure the pizzas didn't burn. And, of course, while the scene was shooting (as it did over and over and over...), I couldn't actually check on the pizzas because it would make noise on the set.

While everyone had lunch/break, there was a bit of MJ-bashing, but not so much that I became too overtly irked. lol

Other notes: I really like the actors for this scene. One of them is a main character, and I think she makes a fantastic Meravyn. The man who plays her boyfriend in the past is a dramatic actor -- he's currently involved in Twelfth Night -- and he's really good, as well. I think my favorite was the old man, though, who is only in the couple of scenes we shot that day. He doesn't really have any lines (maybe half a line), and then he dies. He got to work with a cool "blood balloon" that the makeup guy fashioned for him, and he was a riot to boot.

Watching how a movie develops in shooting is interesting, if not exactly jaw-droppingly exciting. Each scene has to be shot from several angles, so there's a lot of repetition in the whole process. What I found fascinating were the little things the actors did each time, little different things as they felt either comfortable, or rushed, or whatever.

Anyway, I left after four hours, after I had determined for myself that I wouldn't be of much further use. But I'm looking forward to the next time I'm on the set. Hopefully I won't have to cut any more peppers, though. *winks at labingi*

Feeling a bit overwhelmed this morning. I don't have to be at Arwen's until 2pm for movie stuff, which leaves me all morning to work on my GSDPoA. Trouble is, that list seems to be getting longer rather than shorter.

I did manage to check my credit reports this morning...well, two out of three, at any rate. There's good and bad there. Good: the old delinquent accounts are gone. All. Gone. This has raised my credit score above 700, which is considered okay. Bad: the actual bankruptcy is still being noted, and both of the places I checked said that it will be on there until March 2012. This means three more years of being "average" with no real chance to improve my credit rating. Of course, since I'm not currently in the market for anything this doesn't matter, but it may matter sometime in the next three years. Whatever. At least I'm not D-grade anymore.

So, my agenda. Problem is that I have so many choices here. I can work on German (there's a midterm next Tuesday). I can get my last bit o' film footage into the computer for editing tomorrow. I can work on the songs for Arwen's movie. I can go grocery shopping.

Honestly? I want to play WoW. This is the standard answer when I'm confused. And the real trouble is that most of the things I just mentioned are not yet pressing, which makes playing WoW even more feasible. And, too, I'm workin' the slight headache this morning.

In other news, I did manage to be productive in another fashion yesterday. First, I'm now blonde again. Officially I'm blonde for Arwen's movie, but really it was just an excuse to change my hair color. It was a four-hour process to get it done, since I already had color in there and they had to bleach that out first. Long story narrow, the result is rather interesting: a sort of honey or golden blonde with what looks like natural highlights (because of the previous color). It's possible they could get it even lighter, but I highly doubt it. And anyway, I'd rather not go through another four-hour stint again. Yesterday's marathon included getting a steam burn on the back of my neck that hurt like a mother-f**ker! The girl (I did this at the local beauty school, so she's a student) put me under the hair dryer and let me stay there too long, basically. So, as I was sitting in her station chair later with a towel around my plastic-bagged head, I felt an uncomfortable warmth on the back of my neck that then turned to the most incredible burning I've ever experienced. She tried to help by lifting the hair from my neck, but it only made things worse because it untrapped more of the steam. She thought it was a chemical burn, at first, but there was no chemical on my neck. Pure steam. Worst pain of my life, I'd say. It hurt so bad at one moment that I half-rose out my chair yelling, "Ouch, god!" Seriously, it frickin' HURT.

Of course she was all apologies for the rest of the session, and the instructor involved in the project also apologized. But did I get a discount for my pain and suffering? Nooooo. lol

Anyway, so that's that. While I was at the beauty college, I FINALLY started re-reading The Stand. I now have the "complete and uncut" edition, which means the whole novel is over 1100 pages. In many ways, it's like a new book for me. I'm hoping that now I'm in it about 30 pages, it'll be enough to keep me going. Sometimes King is hard for me to read simply because I think there are places where he could cut stuff and still tell a great story. But we'll move through, taking notes as we go.

Okay, that's enough of an update that hardly anyone is going to read. lol I leave now with a picture or two of the new hair. Cheerio!

(clicky to make bigger piccies)

This comment I wrote felt important enough to repost AS post. It's a bit ragged, but hey whatev.


Feeling close to a particular celebrity is usually not about the celebrity per se. It's not about MJ (or Jonathan Brandis, or River Phoenix, or Elvis, or John Lennon, or whoever)...it's about ME. It's about the connection I feel to that particular artist, what that artist does for me that my friends can't do, that my family can't do, that other celebrities or even myself can't do. And when that celebrity dies, that connection is severed forever. There are still links, but they are forever changed.

Some people may never connect to an artist on that level. But many people do forge those connections. And when other people start mocking the artist as soon as s/he dies, it feels different than mocking the artist while s/he is alive, because of that severed connection. And when someone mocks the dead celebrity that I feel a personal connection to, then it feels as if that person is mocking ME for having that connection. THAT'S what drives me batty about the whole thing. Am I to feel ashamed for having such strong feelings? By the comments/jokes I've seen from people, it feels as though I should be ashamed. But I cannot be when that person was such a huge part of my life, shaped my identity in a way that no one else has.

Maybe that's the big thing, the shaping of identity. By helping to do that, MJ is part of who I am. The mockery and jokes, therefore, insult not the dead man, but ME.

I honestly don't know how I can answer this question. There are so many awesome songs. Maybe I can pick a favorite or two from each album?

Thriller: Thriller (duh), and Beat It. But honestly, pretty much the whole album.

Bad: Hands down, it's Smooth Criminal, followed by Bad and Man In the Mirror.

Dangerous: Gonna go with one here that probably isn't typical: Who Is It.

HIStory: Especially hard here, because I honestly felt this was a better album than Dangerous. I love They Don't Care About Us, Stranger In Moscow, Earth Song, and Little Susie. I also love his rendition of Charlie Chaplin's "Smile."

Invincible: Honestly, I'd have to listen to this album again to be fair. It wasn't my favorite by any means, but there were a couple songs I really dug. One of them is Cry, and another is The Lost Children.

There are other songs floating out there that I jive with, too. "Leave Me Alone" is one of those.

I am already starting to get pissed off at the media about this MJ thing. I know he's got a history, but it's not something I want to hear about over and over again. Not tonight. Some people I know IRL are also torking me off with what I consider to be inappropriate humor. I mean, I get why some people joke around in these situations, but other people just do it because, and that chaps my hide because it just feels insensitive. Not to MJ, but to those who actually care that he's gone.

Anyway, it has encouraged me to post a link (embedding disabled) one of my favorite vids, from the HIStory album. (I know a lot of people didn't like that album, but I really like it a lot because there's just so much raw on there.)

Whatever, not going to esplain. Just go click and watch. And, oh, if you come out with any nonsense about MJ being anti-Semitic, then you simply aren't paying attention.

Further, comments are screened. No buffoonery.

They don't really care about us.

A thriller, bad, dangerous, history, invincible.

Yup. And nope.


I can't even express how I feel right now. For those of you who don't know, I've been a devout MJ fan all my life. ALL MY LIFE. Through the trial, through the weirdness, through everything, the music reached for me. If you weren't alive during the Thriller years, it won't be the same for you. Even if you were alive during that time, it might not be the same.

I came to consciousness with MJ. The very first dance I learned was, of course, Thriller. I feel a special bond to MJ because for much of his life he professed to be an outsider, lonely in a way that I related to.

I can't deal with this right now. Some of you know how I feel about MJ. Jeezus.