Quirky Monday: Yuletide Quirks

So I haven't had finals, but the places where I work all do, plus crunch time for GRE(EWWW); and with all the finals chaos, this little blog has been sadly neglected. But, I'm back, and as it's the week of Christmas, here's a little Christmas Quirk for y'all.

My family still plays Santa.

Seriously, all of us know The Big Secret and we still have Santa Wrapping Paper and Santa Presents, and the go-to-bed-now-so-Santa-can-come conversation on Christmas Eve.

I'm not kidding.

You would think that once all of us became "In The Know", Christmas would change just the tiniest bit. Sure, there'd be presents and family and Christmas specials and things--just no Red Suit Guy. But for some reason, that ain't happening in my family.

My dad loves Christmas--like to the point of obsession. For thirty days out of the year this fifty-two year old man behaves like he's five--which entertains the rest of us no end. It's my dad's idea to keep the Santa paper and play Santa Claus; I think the day the twins(the youngest in my family) Found Out was one of the most tragic of his life.  

The result is that all of us still get Santa things, which is pretty cool considering we all know The Secret.


The kids still get up between 4 and 6 am on Christmas Day.

When we were little, my parents established a rule that we were not allowed out of our rooms until Mom and Dad came to get us. Only then were we allowed to see Santa stuff, which usually happened around 6 am.

Of course, this didn't mean we didn't get up earlier than that.

Since we were allowed out of our rooms, we would do other stuff, like read or let out muted squeals of excitement about what we had received because we'd been so good. When my  brothers were old enough, they started to sneak into the room I shared with my sister, so we were all in one room when it was time to go see what we had.

Over the past several years, a new tradition has been added to this one: the girls(or usually just me) are woken up at 4am by the twins so we can watch a movie together before going to see "Santa gifts".

Again, I'm not kidding.

Two early teen boys come into my room when I'm home for Christmas at 4 am and we watch tv until it's Santa time. And they don't let me sleep. It's tradition. Have I tried to stop them? Well, I would but:

a) there is no lock on my bedroom door, and even if there was, they'd find another way in. And,

b) I'm kind of fond of this tradition

I still don't sleep on Christmas Eve

My earliest memories of December 24th are of tossing and turning and checking my clock. Would Santa really come? What if he didn't? What if I got coal instead of presents? I hadn't cleaned my closet, what if he looked there? Once he did come, could I convince him I was asleep? What would he bring me? What if he skipped me?

I am now an adult, so you would think that I'd be able to sleep through the night.

Ha. Ha, ha, HA!

I still get butterflies in my stomach at the thought of Santa presents.

I still can't wait to wake up and see those presents by my stocking.

I still toss and turn until my covers fall of because I can't sleep.

I still check my phone like a maniac every few hours to see if it's time to get up yet.

My longest sleep record Christmas Eve? Four hours. Midnight to four am(see reason above). Sometimes, I take go back to bed after the Santa things. But most of the time, I pull a--day that's longer than twenty-four hours(whatever 4am-10pm is; you do the math--that's not my thing).

We still watch "It's A Wonderful Life" on Christmas Eve, and I still bawl the last half hour.
I first saw this classic Christmas movie when I was seven, and I didn't like it. I didn't like it because it was on tv(ew, commercials) and I didn't like it because it wasn't in color(I didn't actually start to like black and white films until high school).

Now, we have the movie on DVD and I am in love.

I love watching Jimmy Stewart, and I love the story, and--yes, I cry. From the time he loses his wife(SPOILER!!!) to the end of the film, I am a bawling mess. Needless, to say, this causes no end of entertainment for my brothers. (it's also number 6 on my "movies that make me cry" list)

My family is quirky, just as I am. We do things like this every year. Is this going to change? Never. Do I want it to? Nope.

NANNOWRIMO TAKOVER Tidbit Tuesday Bucket List: Plays

This week is nuts.

First, because THANKSGIVING!!!! which means probably no blog on for the rest of the week(thank you Squash-hunting and turkey and Black Friday insanity).

The other reason is that NaNoWriMo is coming to an end. Sad face.

Getting off NaNoWriMo is a bit like getting off an adrenalin rush.

In other words, less than a week from now, I won't know what to do with myself. At all. I call it the NaNoWriMo Crash--the thing all writers deal with at one point or another and have to get over to move on to the next project.

And it's NaNoWriMo makes this harder.

The upside is, I know when this happens, I can turn my second hobby: lists.

So I have a list for y'all.

When I was in high school, I was a "closet nerd". I knew about things("Supernatural", Marvel, TMNT, etc) but I never talked about them. Ever.

In college it got a little better because of the people I spent time/lived with("oh, you're going to do a "Supernatural" binge instead of study for midterms? Cool! Me too!").  I read nerdy books, saw nerdy movies, etc. etc.

And then I discovered nerdy plays.

I blame Qui Nguyen for this one.

I found one of his plays--"She Kills Monsters"--and devoured it.

DE.VOURED. IT.

I found something that appealed to my nerdiness; something I could relate to. And it didn't stop there.

Guys, there are more.

So many more!

In other words, the perfect cure for NaNoWriMo Crash 2015. Check this(re-reads included in list just because):

1. She Kills Monsters by Qui Nguyen
    Set in the 90s(when I grew up) and it's about RPG. And nerds. Yeah......
    I've seen production stills, I read the script, but have I been in a production? Not yet...

2. Clown Bar by Adam Symkowicz 
     Think film noir, but with clowns. Like, red-nose-wearing-polka-dot-sporting-crazy-wigged-
     legit-circus clowns. In a bar. With guns. And it's immersive, so it's supposed to be performed
      in a bar. Not on stage. In a bar. Oh my glob!

3. Toothpaste and Cigars by TJ Dawe and Michael Rinaldi
      Ok, so it's not exactly nerdy, but it's a sweet little relationship story with characters that are---    
      really quirky. Like, I saw the film version and...shall we say gained a whole new respect
      for Daniel Radcliffe? Yes.

4. Superstudent and the Case of the Missing Water Pistol
    I stage managed this show years ago, and can't for the life of me remember the playwright
    or how I got it(which is why no link, so sad). BUT--it's a sixth grade superhero battling
    a supervillain who has a water pistol that freeze people! Um...YAAAASSSS

5. R&J&Z by Melody Bates
    Guys, "Romeo and Juliet".
    With ZOMBIES.
     The end.

6. Soul Samarai by Qui Nguyen
    Ok, so I haven't even read this one. BUT I WANT TO!!!!!

Quirky Monday: Theme Reading and NaNoWriMo

So here's the thing.

A while ago, I posted about how much I love books. Much too much.

But there's another facet to this little booknerd quirk of mine.

I "theme read".

Seriously, I have a Halloween list, a Christmas list, a Fourth of July list, a Spring list, Winter list, and Easter list.

I don't know what it is, but I have to read books that fit the time of year. Maybe not all the books I can possibly find, but there are two or three(or five or six), that I read during a specific time of year.

A Christmas Carol is strictly for December, as are Louisa May Alcott's The Abbot's Ghost and Lauren Willig's Mischief of the Mistletoe(and soon Rhys Bowen's Twelve Clues of Christmas)

The Secret Garden is Spring Read; The Shadow, Sherlock Holmes, MC Beaton's books and Legend of Sleepy Hollow are for Halloween.

Recently, I added Patricia Clapp's Constance and Louisa May Alcott's Little Men to my Fall/Winter list(question: WHY has this never been adapted to the stage or made into a decent film? I mean, the made for TV Canadian one was--ok, but it's no longer on Netflix and the TV series was--meh. WHY?!)

Here's the funny thing though--I don't have a Thanksgiving list. Not that I don't know any Thanksgiving themed books(see the two listed above), but my reading for November picks up a different "theme".

NaNoWriMo.

For those not in the know, NaNoWriMo stands for "National Novel Writing Month", when writers everywhere write a novel(or in my case, a play) in one month. I used to try novels for November and scripts for April, but I get too caught up in dialogue and it turns into a play anyway.

And because I am a writer, it helps so much when the books I am reading coincide with the story I am currently writing.

What is that, you ask?

Tell you later....

Quirky Monday: Accents, Dialects, and Language-A Few of my Favorite Things

Pop quiz y'all.

If you want to see me with a big stupid grin on my face, you show me which of the following:

A. Chocolat
B. Letters to Juliet
C. Take the Lead
D. Anything on BBC/ITV
E. All of the above

Answer: All of the above.

Why? Because every single one of them has at least one person speaking another language/in a dialect.

Definitions, real quick:
Accent-unique speech patterns, choice of words of an individual
Dialect-particular form of language specific to a region
And I luv'em both.

Ok, yes, I know the title of the post kind of gave it away, but it's true. I friggin LOVE listening to other languages. Dialects too--some of my favorite productions/films I've seen feature people who speak in dialect--and my ears and heart are in heaven for the next two-ish hours.

French, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, Irish, Russian, Arabic, Mandarin, you name it, I love it. Hearing something that isn't English(or American) does something to my smile muscles. Even German has a tendency to make me grin like an idiot.

I own recordings of two French play productions because it's two hours of people speaking in French(and the stories and concepts aren't too shabby either). During my commute or at work, I sometimes listen to the other people around me because they are speaking Spanish(or French, or Korean, or Mandarin). I have watched the behind-the-scenes footage of Chocolat because I get to hear actress Lena Olen and her husband director Lasse Hallstrom speak to each other in Swedish.

Letters to Juliet is set in Italy, and I watch both the film and the behind-the-scenes footage to get my Italian fix. Take the Lead stars Antonio Bandaras and Dante Baco; the former's native language is Spanish and the latter speaks in a dialect in the film(Brooklyn-something).

Are there times I wish my native language was not English? Yes. Are there times I try to imitate another dialect just for fun?...Yes. Do I sometimes buy audiobooks/go see productions/buy movies because not only is the story amazing, but it happens to be read by/starring someone who reads in a dialect/accent(what? David Tennant is in "Much Ado?" Benedict Cumberbatch and Felicity Jones are doing "Mansfield Park"? Judy Dench and Finty Williams are in "Pooh Bear"?)?.......Yes.

I will also admit that there are times--a few times--when someone speaking in a dialect/different language can turn me into a great big pot of goo. I watch Miss Fischer's Murder Mysteries and Australia so listen to those amazing accents for hours on end. I watch Red Dwarf because of Lister's Liverpuddlian way of speaking. It also kind of helps that all those characters mentioned above aren't bad in the looks department either.

Dialects can also send me into fits of laughter-especially when done wrong. I have heard native Brits speak and I speak French(and own French films, see above), so I know when people get in wrong--and I know it shouldn't be funny, but it is! I watched the film "Outcast" on Netflix for two reasons, first, because 1) I hadn't seen a Hayden Christensen film in a while and 2) I was curious to see if Nicholas Cage could do a dialect/period piece(no comment).

Dialects and language are things I love. So that's how you get me to grin if I'm in a crappy mood.

You're welcome.

Name of the Game: Mini-Confessions

There are so many quirky/weird parts of my personality. It's ridiculous. There are likes and dislikes that I've expounded on in posts past and then there are some that are little. So today's "game" is mini-confessions--the quirky facets of my personality that don't get their own long posts:

1. I Still Listen to Boy Bands
Backstreet Boys, Youngstown, 98 Degrees, and yes, One Direction. There are some times when I just need fluffy music--I even have a playlist with that title on my iPhone. Maybe it's because I didn't "meet" the Backstreet Boys until senior year of high school(thank you 80s rock upbringing) or maybe it's because I happen to be a romantic female or something, but either way, I have several Boy Bands on my iPhone, and they aren't going away any time soon.

2. I hate horror movies
Appropriate "mini" for Halloween month, yes? This is kind of weird, because, yes, I watch Supernatural; and I watch the 100; and Daredevil, and a couple of(sometimes really baaaaad) adaptions of  Wolfman and  Dracula and Frankenstein, including all the UK Hammer Production ones(question: WHY?!). BUT I can't watch the modern creepy horror stuff. And there is at last one episode of SPN that I skip per season--or there used to be.  The creepiest movie I own is Shyamalan's The Village, which actually isn't all that creepy anyway(confession within confession: I actually bought it because---Adrian Brody, Joaquin Phoenix, Jesse Eisenburg, Bryce Dallas Howard, Judy Greer, Cherry Jones and Sigorney Weaver in one movie? In period costumes? Ummmm, yes please!). I sat through the original Haunting once and pulled my very first All Nighter because of it. And it wasn't a Study All Nighter either. Stupid imagination :p

3.Mysteries aren't so "mysterious" to me anymore
I read too much. It's a problem. and sometimes I read too much of one genre. Ok, yes, the crime doesn't necessarily happen within the first couple of minutes/chapters/whatever. But even then, I usually know "whodunnit". The same goes for mystery shows. My family watches Poirot/Marple Sunday nights(thank you Netflix) and I just got into Miss Fischer's Murder Mysteries, and the biggest problem is I know who the culprit is like--ten minutes after the crime is committed(Poirot/Marple) or at least before the detective does(Miss Fischer). And this isn't really as much of a problem as you would think, because I usually spend the rest of the book/film/episode trying to figure out the "why", which is sometimes much more interesting than the "who". Side note: so far as the Christie stuff goes, I've taken to timing how bloody long it takes for Poirot to actually say whodunnit--and it's usually between ten and twenty minutes. I kid you not.

4. I have never been on a roller coaster
My family went to Disneyland the summer I was eighteen, and we went of just about every ride(thanks to my dad's awesome Disneyland Schedule--yes, he took a map and Excel and figured out how to get us on every "important" ride--in five days). When we spent the day at California Adventure, the one ride I didn't go on was Screamin California(and there was a good reason, I promise!). I've never been to Lagoon; I've never been to Six Flags; even when I went to the Mall of America I didn't get on any of their roller coasters. But it's on my Bucket List.

5. I trip over my own feet at least once a day
It's a serious problem. Whether I'm in heels, or flats, tennis shoes or sandals, chances are I'm going to end up flat on my back(or front, or side, or whatever). I don't quite know how it happens--summer, fall, spring, and especially in the winter. Stupid ice is no help to my stupid feet. Which probably also explains why I can't roller skate/blade, ice skate, or dance anything other than Blues. Speaking of which---

6. Blues is my favorite form of dance
I got introduced to this style about a year and a half ago, and ohmygoodness it's so much fun. There's a place downtown that does it every Friday night, and I try to go whenever possible.  I never really considered myself a dancer(see #5 above), but this style is something that I don't exactly need to "learn" as much as I thought I did. Check this out:

Quirky Monday: True to Gender

I used to hate romances.

With a passion.

Maybe it had something to do with the covers(I don't really like seeing "bodice-ripper covers" because they either A) make me uncomfortable or B) make me want to laugh out loud because they look sooooo ridiculous); or maybe it's got something to do with the formula of the plot. 

I also wouldn't read some sci-fi--because plot. 

YAs? Same plot, same character types, same, same, same....all of it. 

Mysteries? Confession: I pretty much know who it is like--halfway through the book? Even if it's well written I think I was only surprised once. ONCE!!!

And yet I read these books over and over and over again: Lauren Willig; Alex Flinn,  S.E. Hinton, and more recently, Tasha Alexander, Deanna Rayburn, Rhys Bowen and Lucinda Brant. So far as males authors go, give me Jerry Barrowman, Terry Brooks and CS Forrester anytime.

Why? 

BECAUSE THEY WRITE REAL MEN AND WOMEN, THAT'S WHY?!

Yeah. I have this weird thing about being "true to gender" because there is nothing more frustrating than reading or seeing something written by a man or woman where all the characters that are the same sex as the writer are spot on and all the ones who aren't are, well--not.

Example: Before my brothers were born, I was under the impression that boys did not cry, This was due to fact that I had never(and still haven't ever) seen my dad cry. To a five year old, if the only male model you have in your life is a father who never cries, it makes sense, right?

It didn't help that my viewing choices were stereotyped with regard to the males. You know how many male characters I saw throw temper tantrums? Two. Donald and Scrooge McDuck.

Until I saw three films that started to change my childhood perspective on males.

First, Jungle Book.

The Disney Jungle Book. You know that scene at the end where Baloo is dying after the fight with Sheer Khan(sorry SPOILERS!!!!)? Well in that scene--Mowlgi cries. He cries!!!
See:

It's a saaaaad scene, right? But it made me really uncomfortable. I'd never seen a boy--or any male for that matter--cry. And it didn't make sense to me. In my five year old brain, girls are the ones who are supposed to cry; and guys man up and move on(thank you male stereotypes).

 I tried a romance in high school. And this was a bad idea. I don't even remember what the author's name was, but I do remember the men in that book. Or rather, the characters that wished they were men and spent most of the novel whinging and mooning and making me want to strangle them!!!!!

And ok, I live with five guys now(my dad and four brothers) so I have seen a little bit of the male side of "oh-I'm-attracted-to-so-and-so-what-do-I do?!"--boy have I ever! But here's the thing: none of them tune out of life and go moon about her for days on end because that isn't how guys are wired people! It just isn't!

When I was seven, my grandpa introduced me to the second film: Princess Bride(which everyone and their aunt has seen at least fifty-thousand times). I've mentioned before how much I love this movie--and now I think I understand why. There were men in this film that showed emotion! Westley cries; Inigo is in intolerable pain; both Fezzik and Inigo are upset when they find Westley's "body"(I know, I know SPOILERS!!!!!).

Film number three with men was West Side Story. Now, up until this point, no matter what movie or tv show I saw, if I guys started showing emotion it made me really uncomfortable(see reason above). So uncomfortable, in fact, that I'd look away from the screen until the scene was over--even after Princess Bride  and Jungle Book. This film, though, was different. This scene especially:

It's messy; it's raw; it's a man going to pieces--and I sat and watched the whole thing. For probably the first time in my life(I was eight). And I kept watching those movies and those scenes for one very important reason.

It's for the same reason I love things like the Fast and Furious franchise and The Prestige and...oh oodles of movies with male leads--because they are Real Men. They cry(Westley, Dom, Angier) and they feel(Brian, Dom, Angier, Drover, Westley) and they go crazy(Inigo, Westley, Dom) and they man up and save the day and all that other good stuff that both reality and imaginations just LOVE(list is too long to insert here)!!!!!

Of course, watching men that are true to life is a little different from writing them. Here is what I learned about writing men: a male's brain is not the same as a woman's(no DUH) and men handle different emotions and problem-solving skills in a way women don't. 

And it isn't just the men either. Poorly written women can drive me up the wall too. I read a book recently for the upcoming Utah Beehive Teen Read Awards--and it was terrible. Because this was a women who didn't know how to write women! And it made me nuts.

Opinion: just as the world has the tendency to stereotype men as "emotionless robots", it also has the tendency to stereotype women as either "emotionally charged drama queens" or "ice women". I'm serious, those are the two "niches". Which is ridiculous on both counts. 

Just as men feel emotions, but aren't allowed to show them, women can be criticized for showing either too much emotion or not enough. There are some really crappy romances I haven't finished for that first reason; and some action flicks I haven't seen for the second. 

Second opinion: reason A happens when women try to write women to please the rest of the world, and reason B happens when men try to write women like men. 

And both backfire. 

You want an example of  what I think is a good film about a woman written by a man? Red Riding Hood. And yes, I know that this film had--mixed reviews and some people(no names) have asked me why the heck I bought it in the first place. My answer? For two reasons--it harkens back to the original tale; and it's written by a man who knows how to write women:

 

And he doesn't stop there. Check this:

This are both  romance scenes. The second is like a high heat romance scene. A scene worthy of a female writer. And this guy hits it spot on!!!! Because he understands that women have a vulnerability that men don't have. It has something to do with the way the female is wired. 

You know another quality women have? We can be little spitfires!

Marvel and Stan Lee taught me that. After Chris Morgan and Ted Elliot and Terry Russio of course(late comic book bloomer, remember).

Want a spitfire woman example? How about this:

So here's the point of this post(if it isn't clear yet): if you're going to write good characters you have to be aware of the gender of the character and be true to it. Men cry; women fight; both have facets of personality that should be taken into account EVERY TIME!!!!!

Keep this in mind and your characters will be friggin awesome!!!!!!

Name of the Game: Weird Happenings...On Stage

Haven't done storytime in a while, so here's couple of stories for you.

And they all have to do with my weird little quirk this week: the funniest things happen to me on stage. Yeah, I know, it's not a single word quirk, but it's true. Maybe it's because I'm playing someone who isn't me and does things I may or may not do; and says things I may or may not say; but if the experience is weird or quirky and hasn't happened in the presence of my family, it's happened onstage.

Here's the clincher: two of them were with the same scene partner. And generally speaking, we were in the same roles--sort of.

This guy was and absolute sweetheart and someone I had no trouble with as a scene partner. See, he Filipino-Iranian and six-foot-two at least(I'm five-five), and talent? This guys had it in spades.To a romantic nineteen-year-old, this was a dream come true.

Until I got the casting notice.

We had both auditioned for a production of Romeo and Juliet, and the director had come up with a fascinating idea that Lord and Lady Capulet(Juliet's parents, for those not too familiar with the story) and Paris(Juliet's betrothed) had an---interesting relationship.

See, she decided that Lady C and Paris were having a fling, and that Lord and Lady C had an abusive relationship. Which meant that the dynamics of one scene in particular(ie, the scene after Tybalt's death where Lord C announces to his wife that Paris will marry Juliet) one of the most fascinating scenes I've ever participated in.

And guess who Lord and Lady Capulet were.

The rehearsal process was one of the most interesting I've had. We didn't get to the actual combat stuff--at least Lord and Lady C wise--until about a week or so before we opened. I won't bore you with too many details, but I will say this: after the "pre-combat eye contact moment"(which is what you do when you fight onstage), I was not acting--I was terrified. Because initially there is nothing more terrifying than a six-foot-two male coming at you in the dark, or semi-dark(we were rehearsing outdoors under street lamps most nights) shouting things at you in iambic pentameter. Nothing.

But I got used to it because it was part of the scene. That didn't mean I didn't jump out of my skin during some performances, but it also didn't mean that it felt awkward or weird. It was part of my job, so I did it. And it was interesting.

You know what else is interesting? Explaining to your friends why you have thumb-sized bruises on your wrists for about a month and a half.

Flash forward eleven months. Same company, same director(or producer at that point), same scene partner. Different show.

It was called "The Camberley Triangle"(which, for you reading pleasure, can be read here), and concerned, well, a love triangle. And this particular guy and I were two sides of said love triangle. Now, in the script, there is no kiss. None. But two days before we opened, the director stopped us mid scene and said there was something missing. She had no idea what it was, but we needed to fix it.

So we started from the top. In the script one of my lines is interrupted by my scene partner saying something to shut me up. Only when we got to this line, he didn't shut me up by speaking. He shut me up by kissing me.

Confession: this was my first kiss. Ever.

And it was weird. It was one of those ten-seconds-of-fireworks-thirty-seconds-of-wth-kind of moments. Until my director said, "yes, perfect, do it again!"

So we did it again, and it stopped being weird--just as the getting "hit" thing stopped being weird. That kiss worked because A) my character was not expecting it and B) I was not expecting it, and made the scene believable.

Because that's part of what we do as theatre artists. We try to make things work.

And when we pull it off, it's AWESOME!!!!!!

Name of the Game: Epic Fail #1

Once upon a time, I wrote steampunk.

And it blew up in my face.

Literally.

I mean, I got this idea a couple of years ago that I wanted to put on paper and get up on the stage or screen or something. And it was a fantastic bubblegum of an idea. So naturally, I wrote down the outline and the characters; and then, just for variety, I wrote out the entire treatment, just make sure I got everything I wanted.

And came to screeching halt.

While it may have had a little to do with my inevitable "college breakdown"(because we always get those at least once--don't lie, it happens to everyone), it also had a lot to do with what happens to us--not just as writers, but as humans.

We fail. Epicly. Sometimes it's a decision we made that seemed right at the time; other times it's something we said, or someone we talked to, or whatever. It happens. And when it happens, we have two choices:

1. Beat our head against the wall and then curl up and wish we were dead

OR

2. Get up. Move on. Try again. Never look back.

I have done both. And you know, when I've moped about how my life isn't at all what I've thought it should be, I find myself--sometimes literally--running around in circles with no idea which way is up.

But, when I've taken option 2, I still have those things I've failed at, but those are in the past--and they belong there. Embrace them, and move on.

As an aside, I still have that twenty-something page treatment sitting on both my drive and in a notebook somewhere. Someday, something will work out and I can get the thing actually written. Until then, I'm not going to worry. It will work out. It always does.

For those of you interested, here are the links to the posts about it way back when. Enjoy!

Name of the Game: Still Here

Summer was great, cause I could post at least three times a week, just like I wanted to. And then fall hits, and:

Only, I can, and I have been and because of that my poor little blog has been neglected for other things such as:

1. GRE. Eulch! Yes, that stupid thing they make you take to get to grad school. Which means I have to study. Every. Bloody. Day. (I swear, after this if I never have to see a "y=mx+b" or a "parallelogram", "square root" or "polynomial" again, it will make my life so happy.)

2. My second blog, about which I will go into more detail later. Suffice it to say, for now, it's in the development phase. Which means lots of frittering away with drafts and such. And reading.

3. Bright Smoke. I forgot how much time it takes just to write a period piece. It's insane. All the 1920s and the books and the films and the actual writing and the--well, all the things.  And I promise sooner or later that I will start putting up tidbits, same as I did before.

Additionally, it might be time to bring up Script Saturdays again. Because why not?

Adulting. We all have to do it, and sometimes things get put on the back burner.

BUT I WILL BE BACK!!!!!!

Quirky Monday(Wednesday): Page 60

Wow. I haven't posted hardly anything for two weeks.

That's weird.

Making up for that, I missed Monday(ridiculous GRE prep, mumble, mumble, stuff), so you get your quirky Monday thing on Wednesday. Here goes:

When I write, I do weird things.

One of those things is that I don't number my pages until a certain point. This used to be bad cause I'd write on loose leaf and have to go back a figure out the right order--a nightmare!

And then I got a computer(this was back in the late 90s) which numbered the pages for me. Eureka! Of course, this was before I took writing classes that drummed "page number rules" into my head.

Now, numbers and me have never been friends. Like ever. And I'm one of those people who writes until she has nothing left to say that that's the end of it. And I hate creative boundaries--which, in my opinion, is what "page number rules" are. Just as there is no real original story, there is no page number rule. Never has been, really. Unless it's an academic paper or something.

So when I write, rather than do the page count as I go, and worry that I'll "run out of room"(ha ha), I write whatever it is until creativity needs a break. Then, I go back and add the page numbers. Which is usually around page 60.

And you know, it does helpful things. Like give me a mini ego boost that I ground out 60 pages of whatever, which means that I'm 40%-60% of the way there, and gives me just the motivation I need to finish the darn thing.

As your mini-tidbit Tuesday, "Bright Smoke" is on page 60 as of last night. Which means that soon, I'll have something to post on Tuesdays.

Quirky Monday: Gag-amole--and Other Things You Couldn't Pay Me to Eat

There are a list of foods I will not eat. Ever. It's a short list, but it's a list, none the less.

I have the world's weakest gag reflex. Seriously, anything that squishes, or sounds squishy or feels squishy, I have issues with. It's bad.

Especially if it squishes in my mouth.

Ok, maybe about fifty percent of the time if it squishes in my mouth.

Cream, I can eat fine;  apple crunch, cobbler, pies, fine. Yes, I will eat them . Jello I will eat. Squash I will eat. Pickles I will eat.

Tomatoes? Kill me.

Cold cereal(or hot cereal) with milk(and sugar and all that other stuff people put on it)?  Not so much.

Guacamole?  Not on your life.

Avocados? Sharp stick please. In my eye. Now.

Actually, looking at it like this isn't the bad part. It's when  I can see the inside that it gets bad. 

I don't like the way it looks; I don't like the way it smells; I don't like the feeling of it in my mouth. At all. Like ground up snot--or something equally gross.

The funny thing is, that with the other foods on this "gag list"(and I didn't even give you the rest of them), I can watch other people eat them just fine. Just don't offer me any. Avocado/Guacamole is a different story.

When I was at girl's camp, we had a "spa day" where one of the leaders made guacamole and cocoa powder face masks that we all go smeared on your faces. The.Worst. Forty-five minutes. Of. My. Life.

Avocados are almost as bad. Same deal--the look of it, the feel of it, the smell of it. I accidentally tasted it once(nobody told me it was in my salad!!!!) and I thought I was going to die.

Ok, maybe not die, but there was definite nausea going on in my body. Ick. Ick, ick, ick. Sometimes my mom and sister still have it in their salad or something, and it's all I can do not to gag.

Don't ask me why, but there are some foods I will never, ever eat, even if my life depended on it.

Guacamole is one of them.

And it will always be a problem.

Quirky Monday: My Stetson

When I was a little girl, my mom told me about Annie Oakley, and my great-grandfather used to watch Dr. Quinn during family Christmases, and I watched with him.

What do these things have in common?

Stetsons.

That's right, when I was going through the "I want a pony" phase as I child, it was also the "I want a cowboy hat" phase.

Eventually, the "pony" bit went away, because going up in the suburbs you learn that there is no way that you would be allowed to ride at break-neck speed through fields like National Velvet if a) there are no fields to begin with and b) there are no riding lessons available, and therefore no horse.

However.

The cowboy hat thing?

Didn't go away.

Not ever.

I wanted a Stetson. Not one of those plastic toy jobs either--a full-on leather job that I could wear whenever I wanted. If Annie Oakley and that one guy from Dr Quinn could sport one, why not me?

Truth be told, it wasn't just Dr. Quinn that got me into the "I want a cowboy hat" kick. It was also all those old westerns--"Westward Ho!", and "Seven Alone", and--in college--all the Jimmy Stewart Westerns that had me wanting something like that. Maybe I couldn't live like a cowboy, but I could sure look like one!

When I was sixteen, my family when to Yellowstone. During our souvenir shopping, my dad asked me what I wanted. My answer?

A Stetson.

And we found one.

A beautiful felt job that I wore the rest of the vacation--and subsequently lost during my move from home to my apartment four years later(but hey, I kept the thing for four years and I took pretty good care of it too!).

Flash forward to this past week. In Arizona, there is this town called Williams, which is the last town that was on the original Route 66(my cousin called it "Radiator Springs"--thank you, "Cars".)

 And in this town, there was this shop.

 And in this shop, there was a sale.

On Stetsons.

Leather Stetsons.

Goodbye souvenir money.

So yes, once again, I am the proud owner of a Stetson. A leather Stetson.

And this one I intend to keep, thanks very much!

Quirky Monday: Road Trip Rules

Today I am blogging from my car(hence any typos contained herein with no apologies whatsoever). I am currently surrounded by my family members and we are all currently dying in one form or another.

This is because we are on a nine hour drive to get to our vacation spot.

You heard right.

A nine hour drive.

Not that I haven't made this drive before(when I went to see my world premiere in AZ), but there is a difference between driving down to AZ with a single person and driving down to AZ with seven people--who are also your family members.

A good different.

Because now--since we're all at that point in our lives where we rarely get to spend more than a couple of hours together--once a year we get to spend a whole week together. Just us. And it's awesome!

But first we have to get there.

And in this case, it means we drive.

For NINE BLOODY HOURS!!!!!

And ok, it's not as bad as it sounds, really. Not since we aren't the kind of family that plugs ourselves in...ok, we do, but not the whole trip.

Before we all got electronic devices, we would play games, like The Alphabet Game. Using only roadsigns and liscense plates, we would see how quickly we could get through the alphabet(which is how my parents kept a 45 minute drive entertaining when they had a five-year-old or two who hated the free way cause they couldn't see out--among other things.)

There's also classics like SlugBug or Yellow Car(which is my personal favorite cause you can play that one for hours and don't really have to explain the rules.)

And then we all got electronic devices. Which was good and bad. It's bad cause there's always a point in the trip where we all get sick of each other(because nine hours in a confined space will drive anybody coo-coo) and plug ourselves in. But it's also good becuase:

1. I become my brother's favorite person cause I have a portable dvd player and bring all the movies.
2. At least three people in my family have(or have access to) an Audible account, so we can all listen to Audiobooks as a family
3. When we get tired of audiobooks there are at least four devices that have music and are fully charged which we can bicker over for music choice(or we just let everybody else listen to something and plug ourselves in, which ever works best and causes less fight.)

The point is, whenever my family goes on a trip together, it's awesome. And sometimes, getting there is awesome too.

Now if we could just get out of the car for like five minutes, that'd be great.....

Tidbit Tuesday: Bibliophile, Meet Research

Being still in the throes of revision of one piece and developing two more(yes, two, but more on two later), I have decided to pull a Lauren Willig again and "get into the characters' heads, experience the world as they experience it, speak as they speak".

One of the things I love about being a writer is that I get to read before, during, and after I write. Even better, I get to read books that are along the same genre, when I'm in the mood for reading fiction and not research stuff. So below, for your reading pleasure is what I have been reading for both research and pleasure purposes--as of now.

Promise of the Wolves by Dorothy Hearst This is another book where Watership Down meets wolves. Or Julie of the Wolves meets Watership Down. Anyway, this is an amazing example of what an author can do with a lifetime's worth of research. And it's something that is now on my Audible wishlist.

Beastly by Alex Flinn- Seriously, I have read this book so many dang times. I almost went full on fan girl and bought the audiobook and the movie--if the narrator hadn't been terrible in one and the other was---a complete waste of my money(especially since I went opening night; but I digress). I love the idea of a Beauty and the Beast Story told from the Beast's POV. And it's even better when that story takes place in 21st century New York, and kinda follows the Disney version of the story line(because, personally, I have issues with--well a lot of stuff in the original fairy tale. But I won't go into that now).

Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley-I confess, I read this version first, not Beauty. The main stupid reason is that the first time I read it, I wasn't into the whole first person narrative thing. I bugged me. This one was written in third person, so I gave it a shot. That was the first time. I have now read this thing four or five times, because it's such a sweet story.

Beauty by Robin McKinley-It took me a while--ok, it took two of my librarian friends and several other writer friends--to get me to read this book. First, because I was at the reading phase where I was sick of Robin McKinley(I'd read all her things except this one and was looking for something new). And second, because it was in first person(and I have no idea why I annoyed me, but it did). And I have now read it more than once. It's kind of nice to see Beauty with a little bit of a backbone.

The Sight by Dave Clement-Davies I read this on a dare from a writer friend of mine. And I made the mistake of checking it out during finals week my sophomore year of high school. It took me a very long time to get to the end. But, this book is--incredible! It's an amazing fairytale centered on wolves. And they aren't just animals that talk. They have their own language; their own hierarchy, their own--you name it, they got it. Now I'm waiting on the sequel to be available in audiobook form, and for my wallet to allow me to purchase it, as I think this is the kind of book that should be heard--because of it's length.

Fire Bringer by Dave Clement-Davies- So after this guy wrote about wolves, he wrote about deer. And this book was almost as good as The Sight--and is so helpful to someone working on a fantasy that won't work the way it's supposed to. The best way to describe this is Bambi meets Watership Down(which is another book that I've been reading to get me in the mood).

Bambi by Felix Salten-You guys. Bambi isn't just a Disney movie. Bambi is a book. A novel. A really good 1929 novel. Why have I never of this until now? And it isn't Disney-fied either(which isn't a bad thing--I happened to LOVE Disney's Bambi). No, it's a story for teens and adults. And one I want on my shelf. Like now.

Bright Young Things by Anna Godbersen Thanks to Lauren Willig, I have also started re-reading historical fiction. This was a passion of mine in high school,a s I love period pieces. This little story is set in the 1920s and focuses on the lives of three girls headed in three different directions. The 1920s is a time period I've never really explored before, and so this is a great introduction!

Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh-Talk about a period piece actually written during the time period! I'm only a few pages in, but I love the British satire spin on what was going on in the 1920s.

Her Royal Spyness by Rhys Bowen-Just finished this one--something I decided to try because my sister did and she liked it. So I gave it a shot. This one is along the lines of--oh, Miss Marple thirty years younger or something and she's a spy for the Queen. In the late 1920s-early 30s. I love this book so much!

P.G. Wodehouse-Whenever you need a pick-me-up, you go to Jeeves and Wooster. When you need "fluffy reads for research" you go to Jeeves and Wooster. 'Nuff said.

So can you guess what project number two is, based on the above list? Don't worry, I'll tell you more about it soon!

Quirky Monday: My Fountain Pen

Last week, I happened to mention in passing that when I write sans screen, I do so with a fountain pen.

You guys.

I FRIGGIN LOVE FOUNTAIN PENS

I do. I really, really do. Maybe if I hadn't been into the whole "I wanna grow up in the 1700s/1800s/1900s" as I kid this would be such a "problem".  But, I was the child blessed with:

A. A grandfather who raised me on classic movies like "Frenchman's Creek", "Naughty Marietta", "The King and I" and other movies featuring quill pens.

B. Access to the film version of "Little Women". Jo March wrote with a nib pen. And always had ink on her hands!!!

C. Jane Austen. The books, the films, the quill and nib pens(and the men and the clothes). And,

D. Enough money to buy what I needed when I needed it(i.e. fountain pens--thank you Pilot!)

As a kid, I was into the American Girl Franchise and my favorite was Felicity. Because she wrote with a quill pen. I used to grab bird feathers off the street at attempt to make little "quills" of my own.

Of course, these "quill pens" were more often than not ball point pens scotch taped to feathers, but to a five year old, this was pretty dang good. When I did finally get my hands on a "legit" quill pen(from the American Girl Felicity craft kit), I used it so much, I broke the nib off. Yes, I literally broke the nib off.

When I was fourteen, my great uncle got me a glass fountain pen set for Christmas. Needless to say, I used up all the ink in one bottle in less than a month and got ink all over my hands and felt like Louisa May Alcott.

When I started college, one of the first things I did was checkout the bookstore--for obvious reasons. As I was browsing, I made an amazing discovery:

Pilot makes disposable fountain pens. These disposable fountain pens:

And they were right in front of me. For--well, I could afford them, and I that was good enough for me.

I bought a bunch. And used them up in less than a week.

Those have become my writing pens. Ballpoint pens are for school work and work-work and other boring stuff. But to create, I need a creative pen.

I need a fountain pen.

Name of the Game: Writing Closet-How Much?

Short today guys. And just a little anecdote,. I wasn't going to write today, but I changed my mind, because today at work someone asked me a question. It's something every writer gets asked, but something I never though about before--until today.

"How many hours do you spend writing a day?"

.....You know, I never really worked it out. Writing for me isn't just sit at a computer and type. It's plotting in my head; and scribbling on notecards, in notebooks(with my awesome "writing" fountain pen!!!) and my phone; and create playlists; and muttering conversations to myself while I shelf read and put books on shelves( a. yes, those are two different things, and b. yes, I do it all the time--and get really weird looks). All this in addition to actual "writing"--that is, putting words on the page to form them into a story.

Anyway, she asked me this question and I didn't really think about if before I answered:

"Five or six hours."

Yes.

That is what I said.

And later today during my commute I really thought about that answer, and all the other things listed above. You know, it's the truth. I do not go to sleep because I'm too busy writing. I have to sent a loud timer at work when I'm on break cause I'm too busy writing. I've almost been late for work(and other things) because I'm too busy writing.

And ok, it's not five or six straight hours. It's consecutive. Two hours here; an hour and a half there; maybe a whispered twenty minute dialogue(see above). Which is SO helpful, especially, as previously mentioned, I have to work on several projects at a time. Yes, it's a "have to" kind of thing.

But, that's one of a writer's vices, isn't it?

Quirky Monday: B&B-My Favorite Fairy Tale

So remember last week I said something about my favorite fairy tale? This one:

I don't really have any one reason why Beauty and the Beast is my favorite. Maybe it's because it was the first movie I saw in a theatre(thank you BYU dollar nights!); or maybe it has something to do with my obsession over celebrity Dark Horses; or maybe it's just because it's a fairy tale and I'm a sucker for fairy tales--I don't know. But this story has always appealed to me.

Like, the idea of someone transformed into a Beast(Dark Horse) and shut up in a castle with either:
a) talking furniture
b) invisible servants
c) visible servants
d)magic
or a combination of the above, and then bring in a girl who is so open minded and kind that even before she realizes her feelings she is nice to him.

I have seen/read just about every version of this tale that I can get my hands on. I've read the original fairy tale; and Grimm fairy tale; and the two by Robin McKinley(Rose Daughter is actually my favorite of the two); and the updated version by Alex Flinn(Beastly  the novel was so good--and the movie ruined it, which by the way, is one of the few times I have regretted spending money on a movie). Actually I've read Beastly so many times the cover might fall off--the pages are certainly well used.


I also own the Disney DVD, and have seen the  1984 Susan Saradon version; and I gave the TV series a shot(disappointing, both of them--ick); so yes, basically every version I can get my hands on(including the French film, which is brilliant!!!!!). I have also seen the charming Rebecca de Mornay musical(which truly is charming)--see clip below or follow this link:

I did I quick IMDB check before I wrote this, and there are 200 listed titles. Which means that there are going to be some good ones and some crappy ones--and I've seen both the some of the good and some of the crappy. True,there are also some versions I have yet to see, but this is chiefly because they are out of print(grrrrrrrrrrrrrr)

Like this one. This one I REALLY want to see and can't find ANYWHERE

But yes, I love this fairy tale. I love this fairy tale so much I'm pulling a Shannon Hale and making my favorite fairy tale into something to call my own. Which a really freakin cool. And I will finish it this time!!!!

Also, PS: when the Emma Watson/Dan Stevens version is FINALLY released,  I WILL GO SEE IT OPENING NIGHT!!!!!

Quirky Monday: The Boy Who Never Grew Up

Dream roles?

Artists get asked this question more than once, for multiple reasons. We all have them--that role we want to play more than anything and will do whatever it takes to get it(including crazy gym workouts, like some people I could mention--but won't).

I have more fun designing, writing and directing than acting, but I do have a shortlist, like every other artist I know. It's changed, yeah, but there's always been one that's remained at the top of the list since I was---I don't know--six?

Peter Pan.

Guys, the Disney movie was one of the first VHSs my family got--and it was all I wanted to watch. I was convinced that Neverland was a real place, and that some day I would learn to fly and go spend the rest of my life there. I was certain that if I could figure out how to throw myself horizontally forward hard enough, and at just the right moment, I could fly; and once I learn how to do that, getting to Neverland would be a piece of cake!

I remember the first time I heard the soundtrack to the original Broadway musical. Did I get it? Not really, it was a soundtrack so some of the songs didn't make much sense in my seven-year-old brain. But I did enjoy walking around the the house singing "I Won't Grow Up" at the top of my lungs.

The Provo Library had a VHS of the film they made starring Mary Martin in the 70s, and I watched that so many times I'm sure I drove my mom out of her mind. It wasn't until I saw two separate productions at two different high schools, that it finally clicked: this was a musical, not just a movie. This was a play someone wrote! I'll never forget the feeling I had, watching it live and clapping with all my might to get Tink back to life.

In 2000, A&E released a recording of a revival done in California starring Cathy Rigby. You guys, the times I watched that movie--oh my goodness!!!

Being old enough now to get all the mechanics of the film, and that it was a play, and that it was getting produced again, I realized why I had been so obsessed with it in the first place. Ok, the two reasons.

1. I want to play Peter Pan before I die.
I do. More than you can possibly imagine. If we're talking logistics here, I would love to portray that role because it's one of the few parts in my vocal range, so I wouldn't have to worry about straining or falsetto or any of that. Also, Peter gets to fly. Like a lot. Who wouldn't want that?

2. Everybody in one way or another,  wants to be Peter Pan. Period.
I mean, never grow up? Fly? Live in a world with no cares, no worries, just have fun? Fly? Fight pirates and Indians on a daily basis? Fly? Have a fairy for a--sort of best friend? And did I mention fly? Who wouldn't want to fly?

And yes, I did see the ABC Live Presentation. I know, I know, but it was "Peter Pan" so I gave it a shot. One of the stupider decisions I've made in my life. And I saw the awful film starring Jason Isaacs(question: did they have to up the romance when it kinds didn't even really exist one Peter's side. I mean, hello, he says his feelings are "those of a devoted son"--he's probably not even thinking about romance or whatever. Plus, Wendy in the film? Not so pretty. Just not--but that's just me, so whatever). AND I may or my not be counting down the days until "Pan" is released--and saving moola to a) go see it in theatres multiple times; and b) buy the DVD upon release. Because THIS:

Here's my question: this show gets done over and over and revived and revamped and re-everything-else-ed because it's a legit classic(see 2, above).

Who wouldn't want to be the Boy Who Never Grew Up?

Name of the Game: Discovery in Music...Oh crap!!!!

Ok. I have lost count of the number of times I have said I'm in trouble on this blog. But--

Guys. I'm in trouble.

So much trouble.

I have made a discovery that I never thought I would make.

I have come to like something I swore I would never go near.

Never.

Never ever.

And then it happened.

One little Youtube video, one little song, and it was all over. This song.

Crap.

Crap, crap crap!

Guys, I think I like country music.

A lot.

Ok, maybe not all country music, but there's some good stuff out there. Florida-Georgia Line, and Tim McGraw and Big and Rich and....other stuff. That I can dance to.

Maybe that's the problem.

See, any music I can dance to, I like. That song up there? I can dance to it, so I like it.

Yes, I said I wouldn't ever listen to it.

Yes, I said there was no way anyone could convince me it was a genre worth giving a chance.

But now I have, so there you go.

Name of the Game: Thespian Perils

"I went the the chiropractor today/yesterday/going tomorrow..."

"Rolled/twisted/broke/sprained my ankle/foot/hand/. It's now elevated."

"Muscles hurting. Hooray!"

"New muscles discovered. Now hurting. Hooray!!!"

"Just got stabbed/shot/kicked/smacked/punched/for real. No big deal."

Yeah. Stuff like that shows up on my newsfeed, nearly every day. No, it's not because I'm friends with klutzes, and hunters, and maniacal crazy people--ok, maybe some of those are true, but the main reason is because I have friends who are thespians. 

And guess what? I can always tell when a show is going on, even if I haven't seen all the publicity and stuff, because of the social media posts like those above. In theatre, you don't have  stunt doubles--most of the time. 

Yeah, I can see in shows like Beauty and the Beast you kinda need one for the Transformation, but most of the time it's you, onstage getting beaten to a pulp or attacking someone with whatever weapon is close at hand. 

And when you're not doing that(cause not every show you're ever in will have a fight) your running the backstage marathon to get from one side of the stage to the other; and change costumes in sixty seconds or less sometimes--in the dark(or the semi-dark depending on where the dressing room is and the size of the theatre and all that).  

We do this by choice. When BYU did The Count of Monte Christo a lead actor broke his foot on opening night and performed the rest of the run.

 I was in a production of The Scarlet Pimpernel and Percy Blakney cut his hand open on the guillotine(why we had a real blade, I'll never know; none of my business; moving on...) and still finished his epic fencing match;

Right, so that's just SF make-up, but that's what the guy's hand looked like AND HE STILL FINISHED THE FIGHT. And the show!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And showed up the next day with thirteen stitches and finished the run.

 Last year, I got a blinding migraine mid-stunt and by some miracle was able to finish my fight without killing anyone.  

I have now seen three separate actors walk into three separate stage weights, get various injuries and still finish either the performance or the run--depending on the gravity of the injury. 

Guys. We do this for fun. Not on purpose; stuff happens, it's bound to.  You know what the upside is? For one thing, we could get awesome scars and stories to talk about later("yeah, I sliced my hand on a guillotine while I wielding a rapier and stuff"); but we also get an idea of how committed we are to a project. 

Yes, there are sometimes extenuating circumstances where we need to call it quits; but we hate doing that. We put so much effort into our art, we hate backing out and letting people down. 

We put one hundred percent effort into everything we do. We get cut; we get bruised; we pull muscles; life happens. And when it does, we take it in stride. 

Artists do crazy stuff, and crazy stuff happens to us. But sometimes, we get dang good stories out it!

Quirky Monday: The One with The Tree--And my First Bite from the Theatre Bug

When I was three years old, two things happened: I got bronchitis for the first time, and  I played a tree.

That's right.

A tree.

A tiny little-3-foot-pine-tree that no one wanted for Christmas.

Did I mention that I was already scrawny and undersized anyway so the casting was perfect?

A friend of my mom's had written a cute little Christmas play for our Church Christmas party. She had everyone else, but she needed someone to play the little tree.

Me.

I got to stand center stage for twenty minutes and get sneered at by snobby ladies, kicked by spoiled brats, and finally adopted by a sweet family who wrapped me up and took me home, the end.  The best part?

I had a solo.

The playwright had taken Christmas carols and written new lyrics.  Things like:

"Buy our trees/If you please/ We can't wait all day/ Cash your check or credit card/ we don't care just pay." (sing that in your head to the tune of Jingle Bells, and you'll get an idea.)

My solo was to the tune of "Silent Night", and I got to sing it all by myself, in front of an audience. Or so I thought. Originally, the plan was to have the audience sing with me, so I wouldn't be scared of singing alone.

I'm sorry. Me? Scared of singing alone? Was she insane? This was my song and I was going to sing it by myself, thank you very much.

So I practiced. And I practiced, and I went to rehearsals, and got my costume and was so ready to perform...

And the night before the performance, I started hacking up a lung.

Literally.

Bronchitis.

I was sniffing and coughing so much I couldn't breathe, and my throat was the size of--I don't know, something really big.

What if they had to cancel the show? What if I got fired? What if I let everyone down?(In my three-year-old mind, the show would blow up if I didn't show and my theatre career was ruined.)

But, I did make it to the show. My mom bundled me up and got me in the car and wouldn't let me take my coat off until I got on the stage. I got up on that stage and grabbed my mic and started...croaking(to the tune of Silent Night):

"Cod id da nide/Doe wod id side/Win-der wid/whirls ad bides....."

And that was just the first line. But I was in the show, and I was going to perform.

The theatre bug bit me that night. Bit me hard.

I haven't left since.

Name of the Game: My Take on Social Media

Yes. I have a Facebook account.

And an Instagram.

And Twitter.

And a blog.

I use each of them for different things. See, before all I had was Facebook, and all I did was write really longs statuses every day and share more links than were probably needed. On a daily basis.

I used my blog to post writing snippets and that's about it(mostly for my cousin, as--being in Cali-- that was the only way she could read my stuff.)

And I used Twitter for snark. I made sarcastic comments and things, just cause.

Then I took a Social Media class and a Blogging class my last semester in college(aka three months ago GAK was it really only three months!?!?!) where we were given the following assignments:

1. Be active on social media(aka have an account on Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, etc)
2. Be social on social media(like things, reply to comments, have conversations, etc.)
3. Use your blog effectively(whatever that's supposed to mean)

Yeah, I still like things on Facebook. Except now, if there are comments, I reply to them. If there's a conversation that I'm a part of, I stay involved in it--as much as I can(because really, you can only get so "involved" over the internet--because it's not face to face). The difference before this class and after this class is that there are now more than a few people I want to keep in contact with--and only have a few of their numbers, so Facebook is really the only way to talk to them.

This blog has changed too. My assignment was post three times a week in the last month before finals(which--incidentally, was only two more times a week then I posted anyway--when I remembered to). I'm not going to lie, it's kind of nice to write about anything I want and then see who reads it.

However, Twitter is still my snark spot. Do I have a sarcastic comment? Is there some kind snark begging to get out of my head? Well, then, I tweet it. And my twitter is connected to my Facebook anyway, so either way it'll get seen.

Quirky Monday: La Chocolat

Right, ok.

So remember last week, I said there two two things I could not live without and one of them was glitter? Well, this time I'm going to tell you about the other one. You give me this, we'll be best friends. You give me a lot of this, we will have serious talk about the positive direction our friendship will most definitely take. You bring to me on a date? We might have a DTR(ok, only kidding on the last one).

All right, the other thing I really truly can't live without is:

You guys, it's bad. It's terrible! I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself. I think my mom must have eaten a ton of the stuff before I was born because I really truly can't get enough. 

The problem, though, isn't just that I eat it. The problem is that I really only eat certain types. Yeah, I know--I'll snack on the odd Twix or KitKat or those Crispy or Mint M&Ms; but those are just really---waxy? Yeah, they're waxy. So much cheap waxy--blech. 

And the stupid thing is I didn't used to think so. Until I worked a summer job at a chocolate shop. Now, this particular chocolate shop had a particular policy. You had to know what all the chocolate tasted like. So during your shift, you had to eat it. I'm not kidding. Oh, I was in so much trouble!!!!

This chocolate has no wax. None. It's melting point is higher, and this means that it costs an arm and a leg just to buy it, but OMG it is goooood! And not just cause it's chocolate. See, this company makes a cream that is to die for! They call it a rum ball.  And it's--well, somebody needs to make up a word for what it is, because I don't have one. Anyhoo, this is what they look like:

Yeah. Yeah. Could not get enough. Ever. I still buy some if I've been really really good for month or something. 

They had a sign at this shop that I loved. I even had it on my favorite quote list for a while:

"If a man won't open your door on the first date, be careful. If a man gives you chocolate on the first date, marry him!"

Shallow, I know, but I loved the quote. A friend of mine heard this quote from someone (not me, by the way) and I guess he remembered it, because when he asked me out, he brought me chocolate. He got a second date. And not just because of the chocolate--but it helped(I'm kidding).

Yes, I eat too much of the stuff. But hey, if you gotta have a weakness, glitter and chocolate is ok with me! And also because:

And yes, I did post that on Facebook, but it bears repeating. You're welcome!

Name of the Game: Me and the Fourth!!!!

Guy, this weekend is the FOURTH OF JULY!!!! WOO WOO!!!!!

And I take holidays super seriously. Like scary seriously.

When I was little on Memorial Day, I would a) wear black, because that's what they did in the movies; and/or b) scatter petals on the graves because that's what they did in Little Women and I thought it was better than flowers. For some romantic reason.

The whole month of February(since it's Valentine's Day on the 14th) my nails are either pink or red. i also pull out my stack of chick flicks and watch one every night.

In December, my nails are green and red. Ad all the Christmas movies come out(I have seen every single version of A Christmas Carol--including the silent version. Not kidding. Also, this is the month I watch Little Women  at least twice.)

October, my nails are black and orange--or whatever(this is recent thing, still working on it). And my Halloween movies come out--the classics and the new ones!!!!!!

The State of Utah celebrate July 24th, so on that day I'd dress up in 19th century clothing(or the closest thing to it) and wear that all day.  And I would eat cornbread and jam--because that's all pioneers ate, apparently.

On on July Fourth, I did--and still do--wear red, white, and blue.

Yeah, ok, so everyone does this. But I have other quirky things I do. Sometime during the week, I watch Yankee Doodle Dandy(because CAGNEY!!!!!) and I also watch 1776 because-- weel, it has songs like THIS:

AND--for those of you Boy Meets World fans--it also stars Feeny as John Adams.  

Yeah. That is what I do on the Fourth. 

You're welcome.

Quirky Monday: Glitter and Flow

I didn't wear makeup until I was sixteen.

That's the official story. Any time I was in a show, I wore make-up. Stage make-up. So all I was really concerned about up to this point(being sixteen) was could you see my face from the last row? You could? Awesome, I'd done what I needed to to.

What I didn't realize is how good someone can look in "street makeup"(and I mean make-up that isn't used for the stage, not the other kind).

One of the many MANY make-up brands I use

I first got my ears pierced when I was eighteen years old.

I had been begging my mom for years to let me get my ears pierced because all the cool earrings I wanted required pierced ears. That, and everybody else had done it, so why not me?

What my brain hadn't processed was that after getting my ears pierced I had to wear the stupid studs for six to eight weeks. Agony!

Six weeks, guys.  I couldn't wear these for six weeks. 

I didn't buy my own clothes until my senior year high school.

Part of this, I will freely admit, was laziness. I'd look in the mirror and if there were clothes on my body, that was good enough. If we had old clothes lying around, or my mom had picked stuff from from a yard sale, or DI, and they fit, then hallelujah I had things to wear and the rest didn't matter.

What I didn't see in the mirror is what I could look like if I put in a little effort. And bought my own clothes.

Why do I bring all of this up?

Because until I realized these things, I wasn't able to appreciate what my own style. Style I didn't even know I had.

I have to glitter.

Literally.

I am an avid Gossip Girl fan; and I watch all the BBC dramas for two reasons. The men(because--GAH!!!!) and the glitter. The jewelry these girls wear! And the clothes! If something ain't glittering, it's flowing.

Every single bit of my wardrobe has something that does one or both of those things--makeup included. I'm a huge fan of the big hoop earrings, and the glittery bob earrings, and the zircon(that's the big glittery stuff that looks like diamonds but isn't.)

And yeah, I have calmed down a little bit since I hit "adulthood", and my flowy clothes are--more subtle(is that a possible description? whatever, I don't care). But my jewlery still glitters, and sometimes so does my makeup. 

If I had all the money in the world, it would go to glitter and flow. And chocolate. But that's for another post.

Quirky Monday: I am a Lizard

There are times I wear big wool sweaters.

And sweatshirts.

And various other layers.

In July.

I'm not kidding. I have worn a heavy sweatshirt in July because I'm freezing to death. In the summer.

My hands turn purple on a regular basis.

My feet have gone numbs with cold.

In August(that's the hottest month of the year people!)

I KNOW!?!?!?!?

Because I am a lizard.

A very, very cute lizard, but a lizard none the less.

For some stupid reason(thank you genetic make-up) I get really cold if the temperature drops below seventy degrees. Yes, I said seventy degrees.

My family went to Oregon for vacation a couple of years ago, and we decided to do a beach day. The boys were going to learn how to surf, and the girls were going to hang out on the beach.

The Oregon beach.

Not the California beach.

And yeah, it was fun, but I spent a good deal of "beach time" curled up in a fleece blanket and two jackets just wanting the wind to stop. 

On the beach. 

In July. 

I KNOW!?!?!?!?!?

Weather like this makes me happy:

I will be in heaven whenever a forecast like this happens. But when I see something like this:

I curl up and die. 

Curl up. 

And die. 

I guess that's why one of the family jokes is that I need to move to Cali, or Texas, or Arizona, or something. Somewhere with no snow, no ice, no sleet, and the weather stays WARM. 

Yeah. That would be so nice.