I'm a very committed actor. When I am onstage, without question I'm "in the moment" and "really listening" to what's going on around me. A good example was tonight during Little Women, while Jo was singing her big, baffo Act I closer-- I stood there, looking my Amy-est, and here's what I was thinking:
You know, A. A. Milne's essay The pleasure of writing really reads like a clever blog. I wonder what Milne would blog about, if he had one? Probably he'd just post his essays, and instead of having them published as articles in magazines, his blog would just be popular like Post Secret or something.
See? Told you I'm committed. Hopefully our director will read this and he'll cast me in more things because commitment is everything, clearly.
Anyway, since I'm an obvious fan of essays-- true essays, not the crappy 5-paragraph papers we called "essays" in high school--and I'm a big fan of blogging, I started comparing the similarities between mediums. For your reference, the dictionary definition of the term essay:
essay: a short literary composition on a particular theme or subject, usually in prose and generally analytic, speculative, or interpretative.
Why does this matter? Because guess what, all of you, you blog-writers-- you are all essayists, and you didn't even know it!!! I'd like to bring this up in my The History of the Essay class next semester. Oh, you didn't know there's even a class called that, did you? Well there is, I plan on taking it, and I stick by the argument that the blog is nothing less than contemporary, unconscious essaying. LONG LIVE IT!
Now, I'm going to give you some reading suggestions. Don't ignore them, because I know people like to ignore links in blogs. I promise they're worth your time and I expect to hear back with a report on what you think of them (just kidding. Or am I?). My Love Journal girls will most likely appreciate "The fire bogey" more than any other.
The cupboard by A. A. Milne
Smoking as a fine art by A. A. Milne
In the praise of old houses by Vernon Lee
A bachelor's complaint of the behaviour of married people by Charles Lamb
The fire bogey by W. N. P. Barbellion
19 June 2008
17 June 2008
Some advice
Okay I admit it-- most of the reason I keep my myspace account active is so that I can stay "friends" with famous people and bands. Sometimes I'll read peoples' myspace blogs and feel like I'm on the "inside." You guys, I'm one of only 23498871827364123984710939 people who gets personalized updates on how things are going on tour for Bryce Avery of (the greatest band ever) The Rocket Summer. I mean, right??
Anyway, so one of my dearest myspace friends is Jenna Fisher from The Office. She's very gracious to her fans (I mean, friends) and it's obvious she's so grateful for her success. Lately a lot of them (us!) have been asking her for tips on How to Succeed in Show Business and she posted a really, really, really long blog with all her advice and stuff.
Now okay, I have to confess, I just kind of skimmed it, mostly because I was simultaneously watching Ghost Hunters, and you know how I love that Steve with all his tattoos and phobias. Also, it was a ton of advice for people who are LA-bound, and I'm certainly not that. I've got my idyllic 5-Year Plan mapped out, to be sure, but LA is not involved. It will only ever be involved if it will come easily for me, which it most likely won't, so there's that.
She offered a really great piece of advice though, and since I figure it applies to theatrical ambitions, which are the kind I have, I thought I might share:
Opportunity meets Readiness. You cannot always control the opportunities, but you can control the readiness. So, study your craft, take it seriously. Do every play, every showcase, every short film, every student film you can get. Swallow your pride. Be willing to work for nothing in things you think are stupid. Make work for yourself. Make your own luck. Don't complain. Hopefully, the work will find you if you are ready.
I'm ready to be Ready. I'm excited to be Ready. I feel like I'm a good place in my life to be Ready. Since I'm a new practitioner of The Secret, I have to put it out there for the Universe to hear, in a place where I can see it all the time:
Dear Universe,
I'm Ready. I want to take luck for myself. I am concentrating very hard on being Ready, so help me out on the "work will find you" part, please.
Love, Emily
I wonder if Jenna Fisher uses The Secret? If she does, she very pointedly excluded The Secret from any credit to her success-- she only sited a bunch of books and, like, hard work and crap. No matter how Ready she was, I bet her future agent's teeth didn't go bling! when they met for the first time. My future agent's teeth will bling!, thank you.
Anyway, so one of my dearest myspace friends is Jenna Fisher from The Office. She's very gracious to her fans (I mean, friends) and it's obvious she's so grateful for her success. Lately a lot of them (us!) have been asking her for tips on How to Succeed in Show Business and she posted a really, really, really long blog with all her advice and stuff.
Now okay, I have to confess, I just kind of skimmed it, mostly because I was simultaneously watching Ghost Hunters, and you know how I love that Steve with all his tattoos and phobias. Also, it was a ton of advice for people who are LA-bound, and I'm certainly not that. I've got my idyllic 5-Year Plan mapped out, to be sure, but LA is not involved. It will only ever be involved if it will come easily for me, which it most likely won't, so there's that.
She offered a really great piece of advice though, and since I figure it applies to theatrical ambitions, which are the kind I have, I thought I might share:
Opportunity meets Readiness. You cannot always control the opportunities, but you can control the readiness. So, study your craft, take it seriously. Do every play, every showcase, every short film, every student film you can get. Swallow your pride. Be willing to work for nothing in things you think are stupid. Make work for yourself. Make your own luck. Don't complain. Hopefully, the work will find you if you are ready.
I'm ready to be Ready. I'm excited to be Ready. I feel like I'm a good place in my life to be Ready. Since I'm a new practitioner of The Secret, I have to put it out there for the Universe to hear, in a place where I can see it all the time:
Dear Universe,
I'm Ready. I want to take luck for myself. I am concentrating very hard on being Ready, so help me out on the "work will find you" part, please.
Love, Emily
I wonder if Jenna Fisher uses The Secret? If she does, she very pointedly excluded The Secret from any credit to her success-- she only sited a bunch of books and, like, hard work and crap. No matter how Ready she was, I bet her future agent's teeth didn't go bling! when they met for the first time. My future agent's teeth will bling!, thank you.
14 June 2008
Sometimes
Sometimes there's nothing better than the realization that you're smiling when you wake up because you just had a very happy dream.
Sometimes the dream involves people you've been missing, and now they don't feel quite so far away.
Sometimes the dream settles the anxiety you've been feeling over questions in your life, and now everything seems clear and right and you just know.
Sometimes conversations and events play out in the dream exactly as you would have them do in real life, and now possibility they might happen in real life doesn't seem so impossible.
Sometimes you remember the dream and wonder and hope, just for a second, that it's a memory and not a dream at all.
Sometimes the dream is all of those things, and even though you didn't get nearly enough sleep last night, that smile you have when you wake up lasts the whole day-- everything seems just a little bit brighter.
Sometimes the dream involves people you've been missing, and now they don't feel quite so far away.
Sometimes the dream settles the anxiety you've been feeling over questions in your life, and now everything seems clear and right and you just know.
Sometimes conversations and events play out in the dream exactly as you would have them do in real life, and now possibility they might happen in real life doesn't seem so impossible.
Sometimes you remember the dream and wonder and hope, just for a second, that it's a memory and not a dream at all.
Sometimes the dream is all of those things, and even though you didn't get nearly enough sleep last night, that smile you have when you wake up lasts the whole day-- everything seems just a little bit brighter.
12 June 2008
Beautiful Elder: Chapter 2
For a while I was beginning to think that beautiful Russian missionary with the dead-bored eyes had left. I didn't see him for almost a week and you know, these things happen. They actually have to leave the MTC at some point to go do their job, otherwise they wouldn't be at the MTC at all. But no, it seems he was just really sick-- ill enough that when he came into the store yesterday (unexpectedly, as I'm sure you understand), he was carrying a prescription medicine bottle. Illness could not stop the beauty from emanating from every inch of that would-be ballerino.
He came in to pick up a set of pictures he ordered, so I learned his name-- and promptly wrote it down so I would never forget. In most cases I'd think the name Bogdan is weird, but it's weirdness only makes it more alluring. It's like a name someone would make up in order to be noticed for a reality show, or a celebrity who only goes by his first name. Sting, Prince, Bogdan.
With his hair looking particularly vogue, and wearing a double-breasted blue suit with a blue and pink striped tie (not that I noticed), I admit that it was mildly difficult to breathe and treat him as any other customer. Truly, he must think I'm strange. I probably don't blink when he's around.
Of course, my dreams were shattered a little when his companion whispered something to Bogdan (see? shiny, eh?) about someone being "down the aisle." No, that's not some kind of euphemism or even some crazy, inside "MTC talk." I mean literally, there was someone of interest looking at greeting cards down aisle 11, specifically, a cute sister missionary. Of course, this meant Bogdan and his nameless companion (because who cares what his sidekick's name is) had to hang around, open the envelope of pictures, and laugh charmingly at each one, like they were the kind of thing someone would want to inquire about.
I wanted to inquire, but I mean, I had also considered the option of keifing his set of pictures so I could take them home and put them on my walls. Then I remembered that would be:
A.) breaking commandments, and I do work at the MTC.
B.) creepy.
Instead, it inticed Cute Sister Missionary to ask about them, and pick up a conversation that they had apparently begun earlier-- I assume it was probably in some romantic location, like the cafeteria or maybe next to the mailboxes. Elders and sisters cross social paths a lot there, you know. So I pretended not to watch as the three of them carried on for a while, trying to convince myself that Nameless Elder was really the one interested in Cute Sister Missionary, but even if it was Bogdan (bling!) who was interested, I couldn't blame him. She came through the store earlier and I even complimented her on her adorable a-line haircut. Why shouldn't they notice her adorability as well, even if I was dying inside just a teensy bit? After she left, they left too, without much more than a polite nod in my direction.
Luckily, my disappointment was remedied a skoch when I ran into him on my way in to work this morning and he peeked around the far side of Nameless, specifically to smile at me and say, with his Russian rockstar accent, "Hello."
You know, Tom Cruise had Renee Zellweger at hello. I almost know the feeling.
He came in to pick up a set of pictures he ordered, so I learned his name-- and promptly wrote it down so I would never forget. In most cases I'd think the name Bogdan is weird, but it's weirdness only makes it more alluring. It's like a name someone would make up in order to be noticed for a reality show, or a celebrity who only goes by his first name. Sting, Prince, Bogdan.
With his hair looking particularly vogue, and wearing a double-breasted blue suit with a blue and pink striped tie (not that I noticed), I admit that it was mildly difficult to breathe and treat him as any other customer. Truly, he must think I'm strange. I probably don't blink when he's around.
Of course, my dreams were shattered a little when his companion whispered something to Bogdan (see? shiny, eh?) about someone being "down the aisle." No, that's not some kind of euphemism or even some crazy, inside "MTC talk." I mean literally, there was someone of interest looking at greeting cards down aisle 11, specifically, a cute sister missionary. Of course, this meant Bogdan and his nameless companion (because who cares what his sidekick's name is) had to hang around, open the envelope of pictures, and laugh charmingly at each one, like they were the kind of thing someone would want to inquire about.
I wanted to inquire, but I mean, I had also considered the option of keifing his set of pictures so I could take them home and put them on my walls. Then I remembered that would be:
A.) breaking commandments, and I do work at the MTC.
B.) creepy.
Instead, it inticed Cute Sister Missionary to ask about them, and pick up a conversation that they had apparently begun earlier-- I assume it was probably in some romantic location, like the cafeteria or maybe next to the mailboxes. Elders and sisters cross social paths a lot there, you know. So I pretended not to watch as the three of them carried on for a while, trying to convince myself that Nameless Elder was really the one interested in Cute Sister Missionary, but even if it was Bogdan (bling!) who was interested, I couldn't blame him. She came through the store earlier and I even complimented her on her adorable a-line haircut. Why shouldn't they notice her adorability as well, even if I was dying inside just a teensy bit? After she left, they left too, without much more than a polite nod in my direction.
Luckily, my disappointment was remedied a skoch when I ran into him on my way in to work this morning and he peeked around the far side of Nameless, specifically to smile at me and say, with his Russian rockstar accent, "Hello."
You know, Tom Cruise had Renee Zellweger at hello. I almost know the feeling.
06 June 2008
Dedicated to Julie
I am infatuated with an elder from Russia
It’s not so much a crushy fear that prevents me. I’m literally a little bit afraid of him. It's the way he carries himself, and the way he talks would indicate a certain disdain forAmerica
But the dead-bored eyes are intriguing too, and I kind of want to stare at them, only I can’t because staring is rude and his haughty glare would be humiliating to withstand. I’m satisfied to watch him glide through the store on his daily visit—always between 2-3pm, but who’s keeping track?—and sometimes I wonder if he’s a secret Baryshnikov with such a lean build, and since Russians aren’t communists anymore, he must be a dancer, right?
That logic makes sense in my head.
He talks to the other native Russians in his district in their mashed up, gibberish language, and I want to know what he’s saying. I'm frustrated that his conversations about soap and greeting cards and awkward American store cashiers are barred from me. Meanwhile he understands my English with the perfection of one who’s memorized English grammar in school for a decade.
It’s not so much a crushy fear that prevents me. I’m literally a little bit afraid of him. It's the way he carries himself, and the way he talks would indicate a certain disdain for
But the dead-bored eyes are intriguing too, and I kind of want to stare at them, only I can’t because staring is rude and his haughty glare would be humiliating to withstand. I’m satisfied to watch him glide through the store on his daily visit—always between 2-3pm, but who’s keeping track?—and sometimes I wonder if he’s a secret Baryshnikov with such a lean build, and since Russians aren’t communists anymore, he must be a dancer, right?
That logic makes sense in my head.
He talks to the other native Russians in his district in their mashed up, gibberish language, and I want to know what he’s saying. I'm frustrated that his conversations about soap and greeting cards and awkward American store cashiers are barred from me. Meanwhile he understands my English with the perfection of one who’s memorized English grammar in school for a decade.
Once in a while we catch eyes for a second, then I look away because it’s almost like being in a trance, and as long as he’s wearing a black nametag, I’m not supposed to look. Occasionally he’ll smile, and he doesn’t look so dead or bored anymore. He should smile more often while he asks me if he can buy some international stamps because they say that a smile is the same in all languages. Smiles don’t sound like gibberish.
01 June 2008
Tagged, with love, from Casey
3 joys:
1. Acting
2. Going to England
3. The Tudors
3 fears:
1. Being unsuccessful
2. Being awful at German 201 and 202
3. Missing a prop/strike/entrance in Little Women
3 goals:
1. Pursue this acting thing
2. Become a published writer
3. Be blissfully happy in a solid marriage
3 current obsessions/ collections:
1. Ghost Hunters
2. Marie Antoinette
3. Diet Coke
3 random surprising facts about myself:
1. I look good as a blonde
2. I have a hard time talking to people I don't know (though I force myself to overcome it)
3. I go back and reread my blogs immediately after I post them. Always.
3 people I tag:
1. Ash
2. Riss
3. Julie
1. Acting
2. Going to England
3. The Tudors
3 fears:
1. Being unsuccessful
2. Being awful at German 201 and 202
3. Missing a prop/strike/entrance in Little Women
3 goals:
1. Pursue this acting thing
2. Become a published writer
3. Be blissfully happy in a solid marriage
3 current obsessions/ collections:
1. Ghost Hunters
2. Marie Antoinette
3. Diet Coke
3 random surprising facts about myself:
1. I look good as a blonde
2. I have a hard time talking to people I don't know (though I force myself to overcome it)
3. I go back and reread my blogs immediately after I post them. Always.
3 people I tag:
1. Ash
2. Riss
3. Julie
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