The Countdown: August 26, 2010

COUNTDOWN TO THE END OF SUMMER

(Day 2 of my four-post series)

AUGUST 26, 2010

11:00 A.M.
I am awake, but not willingly. I'm only up because I know that Mom will kick me in the backside if I don't get myself packed up and ready to go today. Should I have gotten up earlier? Well, yes. But I didn't, because I was IMing someone important last night and didn't get to bed until 2:00 A.M., and then back-to-school anxiety kept me up for another hour and a half. Since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief: It sucked.

11:23 A.M.
Eating breakfast. Sure enough, practically the first thing Mom said to me was, "No TV, no computer, no phone until you're packed." This of course gives me incentive to pack--if I don't pack, I can't post, and if I don't post I'll feel like a grade-A idiot.

While I'm packing, I really HAVE to try to think of something for my senior thesis. I swear it's useless--everything I think of is too autobiographical, too cliche, too much like what I did last year. (I CAN write a straight love story, damn it!) It's so stupid--but really, all I want to do is make Alien Water Torture the way it was SUPPOSED to be made. Well, strike that; I do want to make a period piece or something involving ghosts, but they do not need to be gay alien ghosts living in the 1940s.

1:17 P.M.
Packing and thinking. So far, all I've got is something involving a fog machine and tissue-paper ghosts. Pathetic. However, I take comfort in the fact that if last year's thesis advisor were still here, he would take more interest in this than my alien-infested love story. (Sarcasm hand most definitely raised.)

3:04 P.M.
Stomach cramps and lack of sleep are catching up to me. I'm eating lunch now in hopes that it will make me feel less icky, but seeing as I still have a load of laundry to do (figuratively and literally) and more packing, I'm not optimistic. A lunch of leftovers and a short nap on the couch will probably help, but not much. Knowing me, the only thing that will help would be to curl up in my lovely loft bed with my iPod and an armful of pillows and stuffed animals.

Ooh, doorbell ringing! Dad's answering. Is it something cool? Is it an interesting new person? No, just someone trying to sell us stuff. Ick.

Grr, this is annoying, I've had to reheat my food three times. What is up with this microwave?!?!

4:45 P.M.
Just took a Tylenol. Time to lie down and then (hopefully) get back to packing.

6:08 P.M.
Packing. Thinking. Not thinking enough, apparently, because all I can come up with are Anthony-approved projects that, trust me, I would find some way to screw up. Grr. Why is it that I can think of a million movie plots when I'm supposed to be doing SAT prep, but when I actually TRY to think of something I can't?

8:27 P.M.
Finally things are looking up. Not packed yet, but if nothing else I get my new hairstyle (courtesy of Mom) tonight.

10:00 P.M.
Operation Hair Re-Do was a success. Thanks to Mom, I no longer resemble Hermione Granger. (However, my early-adolescent dream of having Avril Lavigne hair will never come true. No defrizzer on earth can remove the curl from my hair. Luckily I've learned to appreciate it.)

12:14 A.M.
Eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal and listening to Secondhand Serenade. Have to get up at 9:00 SHARP tomorrow, but you know what, I'm not even going to bother going to bed. I know I won't sleep, so what's the point? It's much more productive to sit at my computer and play Gone Fishin' while trying (and failing) to think of a thesis idea.

1:28 A.M.
So disgusted with my inability to think of a good movie plot, I am actually going to go to bed. With a little luck, tomorrow's (or probably, Saturday's) post will be a little happier than this one. (With actual stolen dialogue, too.)

The Countdown: August 25 (1/4)

The following blog post(s) are done in the style of my sophomore-year journal, taken from a diary-like notebook that I have used to jot down little things that have occurred during the day. Basically, this is what's happening as I'm getting ready to leave home (AGAIN) and go back to Inty. Not quite my usual blogging, but at least this will force Lazy!Me to post every day (well, almost, anyway) until I get back to school.

NOTE: There won't be a post on either Friday or Saturday, because I'll be at a wedding for one of those two days and traveling on the other. I'll be able to post on one day, depending on the hotel's internet service, but not the other. So I'll have to roll two days into one post, most likely. Just a heads-up.

And now, without further ado (or babbling), here is my official...


COUNTDOWN TO THE END OF SUMMER

(For all of you wondering, yes, this IS how I journal when I'm not handing it in for a grade.)

AUGUST 25, 2010

9:00 A.M.
Alarm clock goes off. I turn it off, not really wanting to get out of my nice, comfortable bed yet. Mom promises that if I fall back to sleep and I'm not up by a certain time, she'll come get me. I begin a nice daydream about meeting Tim Burton and, what a coincidence, I just happen to have a copy of my feature script with me...

11:37 A.M
I open my eyes and realize that I've overslept. Yikes! Whatever happened to Mom? Oh damn, she's on a conference call. I'll have to fend for myself as far as breakfast's concerned.

12:30 P.M.
God only knows how I pulled this off, but somehow, I managed not to burn the eggs and feed Dad as well as myself.

2:11 P.M.
Dad's out, getting the air conditioner for our car fixed. While he's out, Mom's trying to tame my bird's-nest, Linda-Blair-in-The Exorcist-like hair into submission with a large-barrelled curling iron. It's Mom Vs. The Hair...and I think, at this current time, The Hair is winning.

2:30 P.M.
And we're off like a thundering herd of turtles! Dad and I are going to drop the car off at the mechanic's (it's STILL not working, damn thing), walk over to the sport shop, and find a scooter for me to use at school this year. Apparently Razor's scooters are all built for midgets (okay, small children, then) nowadays, so I'll have to settle on a different brand (which I do NOT want to do!), the only thing I refuse to do is get a motorized scooter. In addition to all that, we have to get my TB test read (a requirement for school, unfortunately), drop of the NetFlix movie at the post office, and drop by Meijer for some hair-care supplies.

4:17 P.M.
We found a scooter, but I'm doubtful of its performance. I could barely stay on the damn thing in the store, on a carpet floor, so I doubt I'll be able to make it work when I'm on a hard surface (concrete, for example).

5:31P.M.
We're home and I'm now decorating a jeans skirt with my new favorite artistic medium: Fabric paint. Just as I suspected, the damned scooter does not work. We'll have to take it back and see if we can't find a new one that a) does not make me look like a giant, and b) does not require a rechargable battery. Meanwhile, Mom yacks on the phone and Dad is off to go sailing.

6:42 P.M.
Going out now. Got to get that TB test read and get some food. Mom's off the phone. I just drew the Runaways logo on my skirt. When we get back I'll try to work on my college essays.

9:00 P.M.
Working was a bust; I sat at the kitchen table and painted my nails "Celeb City Silver." Now I'm simultaneously doing SAT prep and desperately trying to think of something for my senior thesis. Everything--and I do mean EVERYTHING--that I write is a complete and utter cliche. I'm so f#$%ing screwed. I honestly just want to remake Alien Water Torture the way it WOULD'VE been done if I'd had the balls (figuratively, that is) to stand up to my thesis advisor and say, "Look, a-hole, if you don't have the time to help me, pass me on to Lesley or Michael, but if you do, then HELP ME and stop acting like I'm worthless because my script doesn't contain monsters, sex, or crazed killers."

10:22 P.M.
Dad just called and helpfully reminded me that I should be packing. He's right. But at the moment, I'm fried from SAT prep and all I really wanna do is sit at my computer and lose game after game of Gone Fishin'.

10:45 P.M.
Dad's on his way home from sailing. Time to go downstairs and make cookies before Mom pronounces it "too late." While the oven is heating up I have to do laundry. Good fun that.

11:19 P.M.
Back upstairs with cookies and lemonade to help me through the terror that is my thesis treatment. I still don't know what it's about, only that it is a period piece of some kind and that it will preferably contain ghosts.

11:39 P.M.
Parents going to bed. Must go kiss them goodnight. Time for me to go to bed as well--no point in staying up when I know that if I do, I'll just end up playing Gone Fishin' again instead of actually working.

11:55 P.M.
Blogging. Time to post and go to sleep. How long can it really take a person to copy down three pages of a journal?


And now here it is, 12:30 and I'm still up. Ah, the irony. Now I actually AM going to bed...so, sadly, no stolen dialogue tonight.

For all those who are wondering...

So I was looking at the Interlochen message boards on FB, and it occurred to me that newbie Interlochen students might need some advice. Not just the kind they give you in the brochures or the handbook, but stuff that any Interlochen student knows is actually USEFUL. (In the handbook, for those of you who don't know, they outline the rules but don't tell you much about actual LIFE at IAA...fellow IAAs, do you know what I'm talking about?) Anyway, here are my general warnings to first-years: If you take a literature class with Mr. Wescott (I'm not even sure if he's still there, but just in case), he is VERY picky about interpretations and he WILL give you low grades if your interpretation of a poem or book is wildly different from his. Not saying he's a horrible teacher or anything, just a heads-up. And you HAVE to talk in his class, even if it's first hour and the only thing you can say is "coffee, please," you STILL have to participate in class discussion or you WILL get a low participation grade...don't make the same mistakes I did! McCall's history class is decent. Ms. Kullenberg's math classes are fun but REALLY freakin' hard. A little heads-up: Elements of Fiction counts as an English/composition class, so even if you aren't a creative writer but you need an English credit, I'd suggest that one. Also--if you are in the DeRoy dorm, it can get veeery loud after sign-in, so if you like to go to sleep right at sound-out, just be warned, you might want to bring headphones or earplugs. I also would suggest studying at the library if you prefer peace and quiet. Of course if you like noise and chaos, you will be in the right place lol. Get to the line for the Corners Van (a.k.a. grocery-shopping trip) early on Thursday night, unless you enjoy standing in line for an hour or two. You WILL eventually have to do food service. Do NOT sign up for the dining-room-cleaning part of the shift. Take shifts early at dinnertime, preferably starting as soon as dinnertime begins, so you can serve food instead of wandering around aimlessly with a bottle of table cleaner in your hand, bored out of your mind. If you have laundry service, do yourself a favor and DROP IT OFF THE NIGHT BEFORE, especially if you live in DeRoy and have to walk across the street to drop off your laundry. Few things are less fun than skipping breakfast or getting a tardy because you had to pack your laundry bag and run it across the street before going to class. To all the lucky people from warm states/countries: Do NOT underestimate Northern Michigan winter. You will think, "It's just snow, how bad can it be?" until you find yourself literally skidding from class to class on a solid sheet of ice. Wear boots in the winter. Under NO circumstances should you wear Converse, unless you enjoy falling on your ass every five minutes. Stone food = HELL. If you are lucky enough to be able to eat ANYTHING (this is what I witnessed with some of the guys in my major from last year), you'll be fine. If, like me, you are a picky eater...WATCH OUT! Tom's (local grocery store) is a good option. Ordering food in every night, or going to the Melody Freeze (campus cafe) every day, gets reeeeally expensive. The Scholarshop sells decent food, but at RIDICULOUS prices. Therefore, I must inform you that going to Tom's once a week is indeed your best bet. If you do your own laundry, you will usually have to run the driers twice, because your clothes will probably NEVER dry completely the first time. Consequently, laundry costs you about 3-4 dollars a week, as opposed to the two bucks most people think (one for the washer and one for the drier). Also, if you get a Tide pen instead of buying bottled stain remover, you will save yourself a lot of money and a lot of mess. You don't HAVE to call your parents every night, but they sure as freaking hell appreciate it. If you know you won't be able to call every night just to say hello or good-night, friend them on Facebook (or bug them to get Facebook profiles) so you can post on their walls every now and then. Don't feel trapped by the uniform! Teachers make a big deal out of it, but as long as you have navy bottoms and an Interlochen-logo light-blue shirt, they'll let you wear just about ANYTHING with it. I've seen some of the most incredible outfits centered around the Interlochen dress code policy--the most notable of which being a navy-blue jumpsuit (you know who you are...and if you see this, tell me, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU FIND THAT?!). Just so you know: You are NOT allowed in Kresge or the Interlochen Bowl during the school year. However, it is VERY easy to break this rule, simply by pretending you were unaware of it. (Not that I ever have... *innocentface*) If you think you can get away with a hookup in the Writing House, think again. Most nights, teachers stay behind for tutorials (to those of you who are saying "so what?", let me put it this way: Imagine hooking up in a school building while three or four of your teachers are inside). Even if they don't, there's "roving," a.k.a. hall counselors walking around campus and looking for people trying to get away with having a little against-the-rules fun in buildings like the Writing House. Take advantage of tutorials. Your teachers want to HELP you, not punish you for getting bad grades. Even if it's a teacher you hate. Especially if it's your least-favorite subject. They're not fun, but they help. September + October = RAIN SEASON. Get rain boots, unless you enjoy slogging to class with soaked feet. If you don't have rain boots, or at least a pair of decently water-resistant shoes, you will be jealous of anyone who does. Other good things to have are an umbrella (for obvious reasons) and a vinyl or coated backpack (so your computer and school supplies don't get wet). A scooter is the riding apparatus of choice: It gets you to class, and when you get there you can fold it up and bring it inside instead of leaving it tied to a tree or worrying about someone stealing it. Also, on rainy days, it means you don't have to sit on a wet seat because if you bring it into the classroom, it will stay dry. Only problem is, like other wheeled transportation devices, it does not do too well with snow and ice. There you go. That is my helpful advice to all new Inty students. Now, for the part that I left out in the last post... STOLEN DIALOGUE Person one (reading off the screen of a Garmin): "Queen's Bush Pub?" What the hell is this? (to person in the back, who has beeen wearing headphones) Hey, [kid]? Where do you suppose the Queen's Bush is? Person two: I don't know...under the queen's dress, I guess.  Person one: Shut the f#$% up! Person two: No, YOU shut the f#$% up! Person one: No, YOU shut the f#$% up! Exasperated onlooker: Oh my God, BOTH of you shut the f#$% up!!!! (referring to a stale breadstick) "News at eleven...teenage girl uses old Pizza Hut breadstick to beat off intruder! Are you writing this down?" Person one: Do I look like I haven't slept in three days? Person two: Do I look like I haven't showered in two days? Person one: You haven't slept, I haven't showered...hell, they probably won't let us in [to Meijer]. "Christian preachers are like used-car salesmen: They don't want you to get the full story, or you question what they're selling." Person one: I have a Heath Ledger joke...but it might be in bad taste. Person two: Oh, that's fine. Just tell me. Person one: Okay. What's the difference between Heath Ledger and Heath Ledger jokes? Person two: What? Person one: Heath Ledger jokes can get old. "I have a theory...you ready? Okay, here it is: Laundry should be illegal. Or at least, you shouldn't have to do it yourself, because that just sucks." "Why would anyone need chocolate chunks when they make chocolate chips? It doesn't make any sense! Like...what's the difference?" "I swear, I'm never shopping here [at Meijer] again...they put bread and Hostess cupcakes in the SAME AISLE!" Person one: Do you remember when we were watching The Dark Knight and I was gushing over Gary Oldman and you were like, "For God's sake, he's not even good-looking!" Person two: Sort of. Person one: And I said something stupid back to you, like...I think it was something about how, like, his talent made him beautiful inside or some stupid hippie shit like that. Person two: I hope I laughed at you. Person one: Of course you did.

What kind of idiot promises ten posts in one month?!

...Oh, that's right. ME. :P

So this will be another List!post, or I should say a series of List!posts, because I just need to blog for the sake of blogging AND get away from my college resume for a few minutes. So, here goes...

MOVIES I HAVE SEEN THIS SUMMER:
Shrek Forever After
Little Women
The Runaways
Inception
Eclipse
Make the Yuletide Gay
The Karate Kid
Dakota Skye
The Rocketeer
Toy Story 3
Sense and Sensibility
Go
The Sandlot
Were the World Mine
Her Best Move
Shrink
Killer Diller
Puccini For Beginners

MOVIES I WANTED TO SEE BUT MISSED:
The Last Airbender
The Cake Eaters
Big Stan
Letters to Juliet
Mean Creek
Invictus
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

WHAT I MISSED MOST ABOUT INTERLOCHEN
My friends
The GSA
Mr. Film Teacher
The waterfront
The nightlife
Braeside
DeRoy Insanity

WHAT I LIKED MOST ABOUT BEING HOME
My parents
My own bed
Food that does not make me want to puke
My swimming pool
My basement exercise room/rec room
The town movie theatre
Taking advantage of my mother's netflix account
The library
The parks
Driving
Going to Canada

THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE
Repaint the boring white dresser in my room
Watch The Shawshank Redemption with Dad
Go to my cousin's wedding
Finish my two thesis treatments
Finish my college essays and resume
Load as much music as humanly possible onto my iTunes
Go to the library at least twice

FIRST PEOPLE I WANT TO SEE AT INTERLOCHEN
My roommate (HOPEFULLY)
Mishka, my lovely screenwriter
The returning MPAs
My 'brother' Gus
The returning creative writers
My (again, HOPEFULLY) suitemates
ERICA!!!!!
The cast for the movie I'm making with Mishka
My hall counselor

WHAT I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS YEAR
Get bad grades ("bad" being anything below A-)
Fail room inspection
Get dormed for ANY reason
Fight with my roommate or suitemates
Cry about stupid stuff like school dances
Get mixed up in class/major/school drama
Get mixed up in my friends' love lives (it SUCKS!)
Mess myself up over a one-way crush
Fall down the stairs in the Maddy Building (OUCH!)
Misbudget my allowance and run out of money
Waste money on stuff that I'll never use or wear

BANDS I DIDN'T LOVE BEFORE THIS SUMMER
Sing it Loud
The Runaways
Secondhand Serenade
Fort Minor
The Last Goodnight
Escape the Fate

BANDS I ALREADY LOVED
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
The Almost
Augustana
The Who
Michael Jackson
Bruce Springsteen and the E. Street Band
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
Vanessa Carlton
The Goo Goo Dolls
Justincase
Meat Loaf
Cobra Starship
The Academy Is...
Everlife
Evanescence
Lifehouse
Joss Stone
(I could go on forever...but I'll stop here.)

TOP GUILTY PLEASURE BANDS
Avril Lavigne
The Monkees
The Hairspray soundtrack artists
Jonas Brothers (yes, I KNOW)
Men Without Hats
Soft Cell
Devo
The B-52s
The Click Five
Miley Cyrus (not, I repeat, NOT Hannah Montana)
a-Ha
Modern English
Anything from the "Now That's What I Call Dance Classics!" CD

BEST SPARKNOTES FEATURES
Blogging Twilight (OBVIOUSLY)
Auntie Sparknotes
A Day in the Life of...
The yearly back-to-school guides

MOST PRIZED POSSESSIONS
My scrapbooks
Class ring for 2011
Pink digital camera
HD movie camera
My three American Girl dolls, which I've had since I was an innocent little seven-year-old...ah, those were the good old days.
My computer, because it has ALL my writing on it


FIRST THING I'M GOING TO DO WHEN I GET BACK TO INTERLOCHEN
Cry, then crush my dad's ribs in a monster hug, then freak out because I didn't get the roommate or suitemates that I wanted.

WEIRDEST OUTFIT I'VE EVER WORN
Get ready, this is a mouthful...okay. Navy blue gym pants, light-blue embroidered turtleneck, pink-and-purple clogs with embroidered flowers, rainbow-striped satin vest, little straw hat adorned with a pin that reads "Out of control!" Top the whole thing off with frizzy hair and pale pink lipstick that, trust me, no eleven-year-old girl (which is how old I was when I wore this damn thing) should be allowed to wear.

FIRST-EVER CRUSH
DO NOT LAUGH...Steve Urkel from Family Matters. GIVE ME A BREAK, I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD.

FAVORITE HIGH SCHOOL CLASS EVER
Intro to Psychology, freshman year.

WHY I HATE MOST MODERN COMEDIES
Because, quite honestly, they suck. Superbad, Epic Movie, the like...just, no. I love comedy, but unless jokes are done tastefully they are, in my opinion, wasted.

WHAT I'M CURRENTLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOST
Being on Welcome Wagon at the beginning of my senior year.

WHAT I'M CURRENTLY DREADING THE MOST
Two things: 1) Leaving my parents, and 2) I might've ordered the wrong size welcome wagon t-shirt...oops!



And now for the questions from my parents and fellow Inty students, about the coming year, the blog, and just stuff in general:

WHAT'S YOUR THESIS GOING TO BE ABOUT?
I have no f#$%ing clue. Hopefully a period piece of some sort.

WILL YOU HOOK UP WITH SOMEONE THIS YEAR?
I would like to extend this heartfelt response to the person who was bold enough to ask me that: None of your freakin' business.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST PSYCHED ABOUT FOR THIS SCHOOL YEAR?
Senior prom (I know, I'm such a cliche!), Phys Ed with Lisa Melnyk and Production Workshop with Michael.

WHAT'S UP WITH YOU AND STOLEN DIALOGUE?
Nothing...I just reeeeally love it. It's funny, don't you agree? (If you have never laughed ONCE at my stolen dialogue, you really ought to seek medical attention, because chances are you are in a coma of some sort.)

WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH "AD-LIB NEWS"?
Well, as my close friends know, "Ad-lib News" is the code for the boy I USED to love but, sadly, discovered was not all he appeared to be. One of my camp friends did a YouTube show called Ad-Lib News, and I liked the title so I used it as my codename. My current crush is known as "The Seal," because I accidentally blurted out in front of someone I liked "I like seals," and coincidentally, a girl in a Meg Cabot novel did the same thing...so, I nicknamed my current crush "The Seal."

I KNOW YOU IN REAL LIFE...YOU'RE USUALLY UPBEAT ON YOUR BLOG, BUT IN REAL LIFE YOU'RE USUALLY STRESSED. WHAT GIVES?
I figure the entire world doesn't need to know my problems. However, as seen in posts such as "So...why Alien Water Torture?" and "The Hardest Thing about Making a Movie Is...", I am not above the occasional rant. (To my parents: Yes, I actually HAVE been asked this question by several people.)

WILL YOU KEEP BLOGGING AFTER SENIOR YEAR?
Probably, although as I obviously won't be at Inty anymore, I will probably start a new blog, referencing the college I attend or the adventures I have...I don't know. So yes, I will in all probability keep blogging, but no, it won't be Alien Water Torture anymore. It will be "Vassar Adventures" or "Connected in Connecticut" or "Notes on Notre Dame" or something stupid of that nature.

YOU TALK ABOUT CRUSHES, BUT WHEN ASKED ABOUT DATING YOU CLAM UP...WHY?
See answer to "Will you hook up in senior year?" Multiply that by 200. I once posted "It's Complicated" on my facebook status and was immediately bombarded by questions. Henceforth, I may talk about crushes and stupid things I've done in front of said crushes (I repeat: "I like seals"), but my relationship status shall be kept off the wonderous FB unless it is solid.

WHY START A BLOG MIDWAY THROUGH THE SCHOOL YEAR?
Because at the beginning of the year I was too internet-shy to do something like this. Also, I didn't feel the need to blog at the beginning of the year...but by February I'd warmed up to the idea, from reading my friends' blogs and getting too many good stories to keep to myself.

DO YOU LIKE WRITING OR FILMMAKING BETTER?
Oh, for the love of God, PLEASE don't make me choose.

WHY DON'T YOU ACT ANYMORE?
Because I like being behind the camera better. Also, I am trained as an improv actress, which is quite useless these Shakespearean days.

WHY ISN'T THIS A PROPER POST? AND WHERE'S YOUR STOLEN DIALOGUE?
I'm tired and I don't have any dialogue offhand right now. Good night!

Passing the time by breaking apart

I'd be lying to you if I said I enjoy growing up. Well actually, I'd be lying by omission. I like the new experiences (boarding school, driving on the highway, going on bigger and better carnival rides, first kisses, Prom, making real movies, living away from home, ect.) but the painful parts I can deal without (losing friends, getting wisdom teeth--OUCH!!!--SATs, college applications, arguments with parents, ect.).

Recently I was looking up colleges with Mom, trying to find backups in case I don't get into any of my first-choice schools. It hit me somewhere along the line that this IS my last year of high school...HOLY SHIT!!!! And with that came the realization that I'm NOT going to live at home after next summer. No more trick-or-treating, apple orchard visits, Halloween-costume-making sessions, help with math homework from Dad or help with English homework from Mom.

I'm home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so our holiday traditions won't change--at least, not for now--but being away, first at boarding school and then at college, means I'm not home to make a cake on Mom's birthday (it's in October) or help Dad "winterize" our pool at the end of summer or "reopen" it in springtime. It means that I miss things that I ordinarily wouldn't miss--Mom nagging me to do my math homework, Dad asking me for help with his sailboat (I am NOT a boat person!), as well as little things like the young kids riding up and down my street on their bicycles and scooters, dogs barking in the middle of the night, or the view of the sunset from my bedroom window.

I remember two years ago, going into high school for my sophomore year. I was only fifteen and had never been to school before--yup, that means NO SCHOOL at all, except online classes and snail-mail classes. I remember walking through the school and thinking, "This is it. I'll be here for three years now, in this big, wild school, with a thousand other kids and a bunch of teachers, some of which I'll like and some of which I'll hate. I'll graduate from this school, with the friends that I'll (hopefully) make."

Instead, I'll be graduating from Interlochen Arts Academy next year. I thought that by the time I graduated high school I'd be pretty and popular and perfect...yeah, THAT happened. I thought that I would be top of my class with a perfect 4.0 GPA and epic SAT scores...instead I'm going to have to really work my ass off to get into a decent college. I thought that I'd know exactly what I want to do with my life and exactly where I want to go...but all I know is that somehow, someday, I WILL be a known filmmaker.

It's a strange thought that someone who is reading this blog at the moment might someday be in line, buying tickets at a movie theatre, for a movie that I've directed. It's a strange thought that someday, I will be at a bookstore and see a book written by someone I went to school with. It's strange to think that someday, I will take my kids to a play and the first-billed name on the program will be one of my close friends.

...Then again, maybe not. Who knows?

This is my "Before and After" blog post. This is where I remember what I was like before high school and compare it to what I am like now...and prompt anyone who follows or reads or, hell, even just happens to stumble across this blog to do the same.



BEFORE HS: I would leave reviews for my favorite products on Amazon.com, which back then, I am sad to say, included--give me a break, I was 13!--Kidz Bop, Hilary Duff, Jesse McCartney, and (this one is less embarrassing) 3 Doors Down. There was a reviewer called "Squash-n-Squeak" with whom I would occassionally get into tiffs over music. Our biggest fights were over Kidz Bop and Green Day, who to this day I'm still not too fond of. I pretended not to care when SnS said stuff like, "I saw the review by "Dizzy Miss Lizzy" (that was my screenname), I looked at your other reviews and saw the one you wrote for Green Day. Let me just say, you wrote that review with no idea of what you were talking about" and (this one is a direct quote), "To the reviewer that goes by Dizzy Miss Lizzy: Stop buying this garbage. Can't you see that you're just helping these evil corporate f**ks get richer and richer? Wake up, and stop supporting this garbage. And since I'm here, stop supporting all the CRAP that you listen to." However much I pretended not to care, the truth was, it actually kind of--okay, really--hurt that someone I didn't even know was judging me based on the music I listened to.

AFTER HS: Simply put, I don't give a crap. If some dirtbrain wants to trash the bands I listen to (which, for the record, no longer contain Kidz Bop or Jesse McCartney), let them. It's their opinion and they're entitled to it. Now, if you trash ME, whether to my face or online, I will defend myself. But it doesn't matter so much now as it does when I was thirteen and actually gave a damn whether some online creep liked me or not.


BEFORE HS: I wanted to be a popstar. No joke. I wanted to act and sing, I idolized girls like JoJo and Hayden Panettiere. I wrote song lyrics (which I still do, from time to time, mind you) and bought myself an acoustic guitar. I learned to dance via a Jump5 how-to video. I took acting classes and constantly videotaped myself. I actually thought that if my 'mean old parents' would just let me TRY, I could do just what those girls on TV did.

AFTER HS: I'd rather be behind the camera than in front of it. (I think we've established this already.) Being a popstar doesn't look so great when you know the truth about what goes on in Hollywood. I still love music--I still have my guitar, still write song lyrics, still spend hours listening to my favorite bands--but I don't want to be a performer anymore; I want to be the person who designs the shows.


BEFORE HS: I was a boy-crazy geek. No joke. Not only that, but I was horribly obvious and usually scared off the boys I liked with my God-awful attempts at flirting. I averaged about 3-4 new crushes per month and usually found a new boy to like before I was over the first.

AFTER HS: I'd be lying if I said I didn't check out cute crushes constantly (wow, lot of Cs there, lol) but I'm not quite the obvious idiot that I was at 13. My new policy is, look but don't act, unles you're SURE that it's worth it. (My sophomore year really helped me here...that was the year of the dreaded, terrifying FIRST KISS, as well as the first time I realized that, contrary to popular belief, Homecoming is NOT magical like it is on TV.)


BEFORE HS: I had it all figured out. I was going to be a star performer/actor, with a huge Hollywood mansion, tons of amazing starlet friends, and a perfect Hollywood actor/chart-topping musician for a husband (first choice was Daniel Radcliffe, followed closely by Jesse McCartney). But first I was going to go to Columbia College Chicago and learn to act. And before that, I was going to graduate high school in three years instead of four, via online school.

AFTER HS: I have no f#$%ing clue anymore. All I know is that I want to be in film. I want to direct, I want to design, I want to write. I don't know if I'll be in the college of my choice, but I do know that it will NOT be Columbia Chicago, or any art school for that matter...I'll trust my mom, apply to liberal art schools, and go to art school for grad school. Sound good?

P.S.--I am absolutely positive that I will not marry Dan Radcliffe. I'm just saying.


BEFORE HS: I was a sheltered, homeschooled geek who idolized her parents, was best friends with a girl who was three years her senior, scared easily, and hated Shakespeare.

AFTER HS: I'm an art-school-attending geek who still loves her parents but knows they're not perfect, is best friends with a girl who is a year OLDER than her, doesn't scare quite as easily, and not only likes Shakespeare, but also likes Charles Dickens, Alexander Dumas, and Jack Kerouac.


IN 2006, THE YEAR BEFORE THE CLASS OF 2011 STARTED HIGH SCHOOL...

...There was no Harry Potter theme park, and we still didn't know whether or not Harry would survive the last battle with Voldemort.

...The entire western world was not obsessed with Twilight; Stephanie Meyer was not yet a household name.

...Hannah Montana was just another TV show on the Disney Channel.

...The Jonas Brothers were a virtually obscure opening act, judging by the "stub" article they once had on Wikipedia.

...Avril Lavigne was still a tough cookie--she might've matured a bit, but she didn't have pink hair or have backup dancers.

...Michael Jackson, Anna Nicole Smith, Richard Jeni, Evel Knievel, Heath Ledger, Bea Arthur, John Hughes, and Patrick Swayze were still alive.

...There were no iPhones; you had to contend with regular old cell phones.

...High School Musical ruled Disney Channel; there was no Camp Rock and so Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron were the top Disney actors, instead of Joe Jonas and Demi Lovato.

...Kim Possible was still airing new episodes.

...YouTube was only a year old, as of February.

...The "Samantha Parkington" doll and books were still part of the American Girls Collection and hadn't yet been put into the American Girl Archives.


YOU KNOW YOU'RE A MEMBER OF THE CLASS OF 2011 IF...

...The Jonas Brothers, High School Musical, Zoey 101, and Hannah Montana were the most popular celebrities/media in your freshman year.

...You remember when Gossip Girl, Kitchen Nightmares, and iCarly premiered.

...You panicked when word got around that a nationwide law might prevent kids from driving unaccompanied until age 17.

...You have ever been to a "Snakes on a Plane party," or you know someone who has.

...Your sophomore and junior years of high school were spent A) playing field marshal between Team Jacob and Team Edward, B) fighting in the Team Jacob/Team Edward battle yourself, C) playing marshal between the Twilighters and the Twilight-haters, or D) fighting in the Twilighter/Twilight-hater battle yourself.

...You were young enough to watch the last Hauntober Fest on Disney Channel, but old enough to pretend to your friends that you didn't.

...The transition from Bush to Obama was the first time you were aware of a new President and the significant effect he had on the country...but at the same time you knew you'd miss Bush because he was so epically funny.

...By the time the final Harry Potter book was released, you were old enough to attend the release party without parental accompaniment.

...You remember the good old days before Hot Topic was taken over by Justin Beiber and the Twilight franchise.

...You were jealous of the freshmen who were allowed to go to Homecoming without older dates; YOU couldn't do that as a freshman.

...You were insulted if someone called you a "freshie," but the minute you turned sophomore you did it to the freshmen yourself.

...You are part of the "New Batman" generation, a.k.a. those whose Batman experiences were marked by Batman Begins and The Dark Knight instead of Tim Burton's Batman films or the 60s Batman series and film.

...You have ever been part of a "Hannah Montana Traffic Jam." For those who don't know, a HMTJ occurs when you try to pass by a concert venue but can't because the road is locked up with cars, all because Hannah Montana is playing and the venue you are trying to pass is packed with people--only not yet, because they are all in the cars blocking YOU while they try to get into the venue parking lot early.

...Speaking of Hannah Montana, you witnessed her rise to fame, along with the Jonas Brothers, High School Musical, Camp Rock, Selena Gomez, and Demi Lovato.

...You are either a Justin Bieber fan or you hate those who are.

...You grew up watching Rolie Polie Olie, Bear in the Big Blue House, Dragon Tales, Blue's Clues, Arthur, Cyberchase, and The Magic School Bus, instead of Mr. Rogers or Sesame Street (but maybe you watched that too) or the ridiculous shows that Playhouse Disney and Nick Jr. air for kids today.

...At the time, you were just barely old enough to understand events like the Columbine killings and 9/11. But now you know that you will never, ever forget those events.


STOLEN DIALOGUE

Person one (father): Do you want to borrow my socks?
Person two (daughter): No! I don't wear old-man socks!
Person one: "Old man socks?" Hey, they didn't find me, okay? They weren't walking around going, "Now where's that old man whose feet we're supposed to go on?" It's not like, "We're looking for some old man feet here!"

Person one: Are these tapes HD?
Person two: Yeah.
Person one: Are you sure?
Person three: No, they’re not HD. They’re magical, and when you put them into the camera it glows bright blue and a unicorn comes up and hugs you. Of course it’s HD, put it in the damn camera.

Person one: Just say "Go f**k yourself."
Person two: I don't think you need to tell him that. He probably already does.
Person one: AHHHHH! Bad mental image! Bad bad bad bad BAD mental image!

Person one: Sandwich!
Person two: Could you be any more random?
Person one: That was NOT random. I was happy about eating the sandwich, so I said "sandwich."

Person one: Macs are great, PCs pretty much suck.
Person two: PCs do NOT suck, they work just fine!
Person one: Okay...how long does your computer take to start up? Fourteen minutes?
Person two: Six--at most!
Person one(shocked): Wow...I was exaggerating at the fourteen minutes thing...wow...just...wow.
Person two: Oh yeah? Well how long does YOURS take to start up, wise guy?
Person one: ...Fifteen seconds.

Person one: Hey mom, I'm going to the movies tomorrow with Charles.
Person two: Who's that? Is he gay?
Person one: No...
Person two: DARN IT!

Person one: I am freezing my ass off.
Person two: Dude, you don’t HAVE an ass.

[while watching Tokio Hotel in the lounge]
Person one: So who would you sneak into a hotel room with after a concert, provided you ever got into that situation?
Person two: I’d want Tom.
Person one: No way. I think I’d want…Gustav. Yeah. The cute quiet one.
Person three: Um…I don’t know. I’m kinda torn between Georg and Bill.
Person one: Well, think of it this way, whose baby would you rather have?
[While P3 considering this, another person—a guy—walks into the room]
Person three [greeting him]: Sean!
Person two: You’d have SEAN'S baby?!

Person one: Cullen, you're from Mississippi, do you have any idea why teen pregnancy and obesity rates are so high?
Person two: It's because all we do is eat and have sex.

You know you live in Michigan if...

...One day it is sunny and gorgeous, the next day it is muggy and too hot to stand, the next day it is so windy and cold that you need a sweater to go outside, and then the next day it's pouring rain.

...The mosquito population fluctuates nightly. It's perfectly normal to be bug-free one night and totally swarmed the next.

...You think nothing of fishing frogs, snakes, and spiders out of your backyard pool.

...Even if you detest Twilight, you still brag that Taylor Lautner is from YOUR home state.

...In winter, you alternate between freezing your ass off and opening all the windows because your house is a freaking sauna.

...You run the risk of being burned at the stake for driving a foreign car.

...When you're alone or with others from Michigan, you say "Detroit" like it's a curseword. When you're with outsiders who are trashing Detroit, you defend it as if it were the Vatican.

...You brag about Robin Williams and Tim Allen being from your home state (even though technically, Williams was born in Chicago and Allen came from Colorado).

...You know your state is full of rich history (hello, Henry Ford Museum!) and interesting people (the name "Michael Moore" ring a bell?) but at the same time you whine about being from a small town or, heaven forbid, Detroit.

...By now, you're really, really sick of hearing about Kwame Kilpatrick...so sick, in fact, that you actually prefer the little 'newsflashes' about Lindsay Lohan's jail term to an update on Kilpatrick.

...You've been to Canada, but when someone asks if you've traveled outside the USA you forget and say "No, I haven't" because it took you less than two hours to get there.

...You have had the wonderful experience of freezing your backside off in one of the Great Lakes. In March. Wearing a two-piece swimsuit. And you think this is perfectly normal.

...You can wear t-shirts in February and thermals in July.

...You drive through areas with so many deserted businesses that the phrase "ghost town" comes to mind and not only are you not surprised, but you pretty much expect it.


Well I'm sure you get the point. How many of us can go on and on about our hometowns or home states, usually making ridiculous generalizations? And how many of us, despite all that, love our origins...athough we wouldn't admit it under alien water torture? (Sorry, that was just too good an opportunity to miss.)

I will admit that I can't wait to get the heck out of Michigan. But I think this is more out of a love of traveling than a desire to escape my home state. I love traveling, from day trips to Canada to long, drawn-out, three-days-of-driving trips to North Carolina and Texas. I've been to Vermont, Ohio, West Virginia, to name a few, even New York (don't count that one; it was when I was barely a year old). I'd love to go overseas someday, my top places to go would be England, Germany, and Ireland. My college candidates fall everywhere from California to Boston. I get excited whenever I hear the words "vacation" "packing" or "trip." I go to boarding school and love every minute of it. In my sophomore year I voluntarily went on an eleven-hour drive to Pennsylvania to camp, hike, and whitewater raft with forty-nine of my fellow students.

But for all my complaining that we don't travel enough--and my parents can vouch for me on this--the first thing I say after every trip is, "God, it feels great to be home!"

I'm about to be cheesy for the second time in one post: Home = family. Anywhere you have people you love can be "home" for you, when you really get right down to it. In that case, I have two homes: Interlochen and my silly little housing development. Why? Because at Interlochen are all my friends, all the people I'd go through hell for, and then in the subdivision are my parents, who we all know I love to death.

Do I complain about both places? Yeah. But when push comes to shove, will I always go right back to those places? Absofreakinglutely.

And hey, it's nice when I think about it this way: Whether driving to boarding school or coming back for a vacation, I can always say, "I'm going home."


STOLEN DIALOGUE

Person one: Roadrunner, roadrunner... [singing the Joan Jett song]
Person two: Roadrunner, Coyote's after you [sings theme song from the Roadrunner cartoon]
Person one: No, that's not the roadrunner I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of Joan Jett driving by the Stop'n'Shop with her radio on.
Person two: Oh, she must be driving a...whaddyacallit...a...uh...car.
Person one: Uh, ya think?
Person two: Hey, smartass, there's a car called a Roadrunner. A Plymouth.
Person one: I'm not sure that's what Joan Jett had in mind.
Person two: Look, there's only two roadrunners: The one that goes "Meep meep!" and the kind that goes, "Beep beep."
Person one: Uh...okay...

"I got the little mini chocolate chips. But I didn't mean to. I didn't have my glasses on. For all I know, they could be little rabbit turds."

"I swear, some days I just feel like washing my hair with salami."

Person one [total cookie addict]: We don't need to get cookies if we don't have much time.
Person two: "We don't need cookies?" Are you SERIOUS? Dad, the #1 rule in our family is DON'T EVER TURN DOWN COOKIES!
Person three: You WROTE that rule!
Person two: Yeah, you did! You carved it in stone, sealed it with a drop of your blood, set it in a golden plaque, put it high up on a wall in a sacred tomb guarded by booby traps that end with whoever tries to touch it getting chased out by a huge rolling boulder! What do you mean, "We don't need cookies!" Are you sure you're my dad, or are you an imposter?
Person one: No, I'm not an imposter.
Person two: Then why'd you say "We don't need cookies?"
Person one: Well, it was worth the conversation we just had.

Person one: Are you still a virgin?
Person two: Well, let's just say I have no plans to change my maidenly status anytime soon.

"Oh yeah man. C'mon man. Yeah, dude. Fight the power, man, c'mon."

"That's the third time today I've heard you use the word 'badass.' Do we need to get you a thesaurus?"

Person one: I used to be so cute...what happened?
Person two: You're still cute!
Person one: ...Meh.
Person two: Don't you 'meh' me!
Person one: That's such a midwestern thing to say, isn't it? 'Meh.' Like, have you ever heard a Texan say 'meh'?
Person two: I never met a Texan. Now stop with the subject changing!

The Delicate Art of Celebrity Disappointment

Raise your hand if you have ever had a massive crush on an actor or musician, only to find out that they in fact sucked.

*raises hand and looks out into cyberworld*

Yeah...that's what I thought.

Now, I have known for some time that Hollywood, Disney, and their affiliates are complete fakers. They fake that gay guys are straight because said gay guys might lose scores of adoring female fans if the truth came out (put not intended). They fake that girls roll out of bed looking like lingerie models. They fake that girls like Hilary Duff and Kelly Clarkson write all their own music when really, that's what professional songwriters are for. They fake that everything in the world is perfect when really, it's (duh) NOT.

But flashback to late autumn 2006, when I had just discovered and completely fallen in love with the All-American Rejects--or, more accurately, with the lead singer, Tyson Ritter. As a naive fourteen-year-old, I thought that Tyson was the sweetest, most sensitive lead singer of any band ever created...plus he had pretty dark hair and killer light-blue eyes, as well as a devil-may-care smirk of a smile, which definitely helped the "falling in love" bit.

And honestly, I think I was quite justified in my opinion of "Pretty Tyson" (as I obstinately called him, much to the delight and amusement of my rock-and-roll-addict father, who by the way also likes TAAR), when you take a look at the lyrics of TAAR's first album:

Please just don't play with me, my paper heart will bleed. This wait for destiny won't do, be with me please I beseech you... ("My Paper Heart")

Alone with you, alone with me. What can I do? I cannot breathe. My heart is torn for all to see. Alone with you, alone with me. ("One More Sad Song")

You're sweet just like the sun, but what happens when the sun doesn't stay? The night reminds me of when you went away. I don't care, I don't care. Mind is pacing, heart is racing, contemplating things that I lack, you know you left me by myself and I want you back. ("Don't Leave Me")

Wishful thinking, patience shrinking, bliss is far away. North is calling, now I'm falling at your feet please stay...Now we're too far gone, hope is such a waste, every breath you take you give me the burden's bitter taste. ("Too Far Gone")

This may be the last thing that I write for long. Can you hear me smiling when I sing this song for you, and only you? ("The Last Song")

One place, one place slipped away...missed calls, missed calls, I can't stay too late...She's gone, I will miss her voice, her eyes, and love's first kiss. ("The Cigarette Song")

Talk about a SHIT-TON of sappiness! As one Amazon.com reviewer so astutely pointed out, "This album [The All-American Rejects, 2002] is comprised of twelve songs concerning everything that could go wrong in a relationship." And I absolutely loved it. (I was barely fourteen for God's sake; give me a break.) I ate up every word, every note, every chord. Tyson Ritter was, to me, the most romantic man on earth. Bar none.

For ten long, wonderful months, I maintained this illusion, assisted by TAAR's second album--with lyrics such as "I hope that love he gave you/Was just enough to save you/You nearly broke my heart/Just look at what you're tearing apart" (from "Stab My Back") and "You don't have to move, you don't have to speak/Lips for biting/You're staring me down, a glance makes me weak/Eyes for striking" (from "Dance Inside")--until the rockumentary Tournado was released in summer 2007. Having already acquired the Too Bad For Hell DVD and fallen even more in love with Tyson's ridiculous adorkableness, I eagerly obtained a copy of Tournado...

...and almost immediately wished I hadn't.

Don't get me wrong, the concert portion of the DVD was great. But the documentary? Well, that I could've lived without.

I won't get into nitty-gritty details or my blog could be flagged as 'inappropriate.' (Yes, it WAS that bad.) Suffice it to say that my romantic, sexy hero was not all I thought he was. In fact, he went from said romantic, sexy hero to a sex-obsessed, woman-objectifying, obnoxious creepazoid whose only fleeting moment of redemption came when he signed a guitar for a young fan.

In the words of E.T.: Ouch.

Melodramatic young high-school freshman as I was (or was about to become), this just seemed like a complete tragedy to me. Disappointment made me cry. Pride made me pretend that I'd loved the DVD. Love for my dad made me thank him profusely and promise to watch it with him as soon as he had the time. All the while I was thinking two things: 1) What the heck am I gonna do if Dad wants to see the documentary as well as the concert? and 2) TYSON!!! HOW COULD YOU LET ME DOWN LIKE THIS?!?!?!

For a long time afterward, I heavily disliked listening to TAAR at all, much less the sappy, sweet songs that I used to eat up like Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. The framed Tyson Ritter poster on my wall--another present from my dad--made me cringe. The rockstar who I'd once fantasized about marrying, I now fantasized about beating with a fire hydrant until he choked on his own tongue. Yes...I was melodramatic indeed. But underneath all the whiny soap-opera ranting, one thing was true and plain and clear as glass: I would never, EVER worship or crush on a celebrity again.

Well, even that didn't last. For even as I mourned "Pretty Tyson," I was already falling head-over-heels for the (to a fourteen-year-old girl, anyway) devastatingly handsome Joe Jonas. I already liked the Jonas Brothers, to be sure. But as they heated up in popularity, and I became more and more disillusioned with the wild-rockers TAAR, I found myself more drawn to the Christian Good-Boy image of the JoBros and their cute, outgoing, bouncy lead singer.

*insert forehead smack here*

Now, looking back I know that the Jonas Brothers were ridiculous. But at the time I adored them. Added to that, Joe Jonas was three years older than me, compared to Tyson Ritter's nine-year age gap--and to a young girl this kind of stuff matters. So I went from an AAR-geek to a JoBro-geek. I went to see their live show. I collected magazines that featured them. I plastered my mental-hospital-white walls with their posters. I bought their CDs, I stalked their YouTube. And I loved Joe Jonas as much as I'd loved Tyson Ritter.

UNTIL...

I found out, again through a documentary (this time, as well as maturation and less wide-eyed naivete) that Joe Jonas was an asshole.

The difference between the discovery of Tyson Ritter's wild-man status and my discovery of Joe Jonas's asshole status was that this time, I'd seen it coming. It wasn't a slam-over-the-head kind of thing. More like a final-nail-in-the-coffin thing. I'd been outgrowing the Jonas Brothers anyway, and it just didn't seem that much of a tragedy that I was finally "over" them.

The point of all this is, it's so easy to fall in love with an image. Maybe it's not a crush type of thing, but it's almost always a hero-worship sort of thing. I'm not saying, "Never admire ANYONE, you don't know what they're REALLY like." I'm saying that it's easy to be taken in by a publicized image. It's easy to think you know someone, be it a star from a magazine or that sweet, kind girl who sits behind you in class and always compliments your hair. And it's very, VERY easy to be hurt and disappointed when you find out that they are not what they seem.

Now, as a senior in high school, I know the difference between an idol--someone you actually respect and try to emulate--and a celebrity fixation--someone you stare at starry-eyed and think, They are so perfect, I WISH I could be like them but it'll never happen or They are so gorgeous, I WISH I could go out with them/marry them/makeout with them. (Sorry for that last one, Mom and Dad.)

Now when I look at someone like Ronnie Winter (I'd use MJ as an example, but I'm sure the Cliche Police would come and arrest me), I respect their imperfections instead of glossing over them. ("Wow, he got over his drinking problems in college, if he can do that, surely I can make it through one more semester of World History," vs. "Oh, that drinking thing was probably exaggerated, Ronnie would NEVER do that.") It's silly, yes, but it makes all the difference in the world.

Want to know one more silly little detail before I present the stolen dialogue? Honestly, it feels really nice, if a little bittersweet, to know that I actually AM starting to (finally) grow up.

I'm going to end the serious part of this post with my favorite Friederich Nietzsche quote: "There is an innocence in admiration; it is found in those to whom it has never yet occurred that they, too, might be admired some day."

That concludes the serious portion of our show.


STOLEN DIALOGUE

Person one: I was gonna do something...what was I gonna do?
Person two: Commit yourself?

Person one: I think my synapses are wearing off. Has that happened to you?
Person two (washing dishes, running water): What?
Person one: Like, just now. I couldn't think of the word "review."
Person two: What?!
Person one: REVIEW!
Person two: Your reviews are wearing off?

Person one: Lookit me, I'm a trophy! I'm a skater...I'm a basketball...
Person two: You're an idiot!

"It's two parts Labyrinth, one part From Justin to Kelly, and all parts what the hell is this movie about."

Person one: She must die!
Person two: Vanessa Hudgens? I quite agree.

Person one: I am a mature grown-up.
Person two: Are you sure?

[talking about the All-American Rejects] "They sort of went from 'Aww, cute!' to 'Grrr, badass!'"

"I'm sure I've looked that ridiculous at some point in my life. I just don't want to admit it."

Summer dies and it's just moments we have together

With the return to school hovering like a helicopter, everyone seems to be in a frenzy of "Oh my God, we have to jam as much fun stuff in as we can before summer is over!" And I, like everyone else, have fallen into this trap. My earlier summer plan is not yet shot to hell, I like to think--I didn't relearn piano, get a summer job, or spend as much time being phsyically active as I would've liked. However, I did fulfil SOME requirements--and now, with summer being almost over, I have reprioritized (if that's even a word).

Here's my new end-of-summer schedule:

Tomorrow--go to the Pinery (which is a lovely, LOVELY place in Canada, with a beach and hiking trail and plenty of places to explore).
Hopefully tonight or sometime this weekend--Go to the Imlay City carnival, which is, I'm not joking, the cleanest carnival I've ever seen.
Weekend of the 20th--Go to Cincinnati to see The Almost, a.k.a. the BEST Christian rock band I've ever heard.
27th--Go to my cousin's wedding in a gorgeous mansion, and play croquet.

Unscheduled events: Read my ass off, see more indie films, work out in the basement exercise room so I'm not a jelly doughnut by the time I have to go back to Inty, set up my Skype (because it STILL doesn't work!) and, oh yes...

PLAN A MOVIE WITH MY BEST FRIEND.

Not kidding. I am the one who swore up and down I would NEVER be able to shoot a film written by anyone other than myself. I am the one who insisted that if I didn't write the screenplay, my movie would be crap because I'd be too afraid of "compromising a fellow artist's vision" to film it properly. And yet I am the one who read a screenplay by a VERY close friend and completely fell in love with it, and the next thing you know--BAM, instant collaboration.

The upcoming film, which will be called The Icarus Effect, will be shot at Interlochen, completely independent of all outside assistance. That basically means that we're going to do it all ourselves, with no help from the MPA faculty or any other IAA staff. We might have to go through the motions of pretending to get permission, but as most of the areas that we'll be shooting in are outdoor or common areas, we don't need written waviers.

How awesome is that?

Of course it's not all just a walk in the park. I have to figure out how to light a beach at dusk (not the easiest thing to do, that), make prop diplomas (and I am one of the worst graphic artists you have ever seen; even a COMPUTER can't help me draw a damn straight line), find a cast for this project (thank God Mishka knows exactly what she wants), and somehow find a crew as well (provided anyone actually WANTS to help us with this silly but meaningful-to-us endeavor).

With all this in mind, I'm going to have a VERY eventful August and an even more eventful return to school. So here is my final list of things I absolutely MUST do before I go back to school.

1. See The Runaways, The Shawshank Redemption, Were the World Mine, The Departed, Invictus, Big Stan, and The Girl Next Door.
2. Go to at least ONE carnival, preferably the one in Imlay City.
3. Go to the beach at least once.
4. Get my damn Skype to work.
5. Read One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (I've been told that it's a VERY good book.)
6. Get as much music stocked on my iTunes as humanly possible.
7. Finish revamping and redecorating any wardrobe items that still need additional fabric paint (long story).
8. Learn the words to "Don't Stop Believing" so I don't feel like a dork when everyone is singing that and I'm all, "Wait, what'd they just say?"
9. Invite SOMEONE over for a pool party. I have friends who actually LIVE in Michigan--I'm just saying.
10. The all-important ten posts in August (I'm already behind--this was supposed to come out yesterday).


So there we go. My end-of-summer to-do list. And if anyone else has suggestions for how to close my final summer of high school with a bang, I'd love to hear them.

STOLEN DIALOGUE, PUBLIC SCHOOL EDITION:

(most of this dialogue was stored up from when I was in public high school, with a bit of dialogue from home thrown in.)

Person one: On the street, a man with strange, exotic features grins at him, revealing large canine teeth, and winks at him.
Person two: Who’s the canine-teeth dude?
Person one: He’s a fairy.
Person two: As in, the magical kind?
Person one: Yeah, though I’m quite sure he’d screw a guy if he really wanted to.

"You know, all things considered, it's a wonder I haven't kicked your ass yet."

"Your treatment makes The Odessy look like a one-liner."

"Do you really wanna keep him around? 'Cause you know, I have a knitting needle right here..."

[while discussing a class project]
Teacher: No sex, no drugs, no alcohol, no cursing.
Student: Aw, I just ran out of ideas.

[discussing a Spanish class exercise]
Teacher: Okay, the driver is speaking in past tense. The backseat left is speaking in present tense, the backseat right is speaking in future tense. And shotgun is...what is shotgun doing?
Teacher: Shooting!

Person one: Do you guys smell coffee?
Person two: What?
Person one: I said, 'Do you guys smell coffee?'
Person two: Oh! I thought you said, 'Do you guys SMOKE coffee?'
Person three: What is UP with you?!

Person one: You really intimidate him.
Person two: Okay, you people really need to stop using pronouns. There's six hundred 'hims' in this school. Which one are we talking about?

"See, for Dad this is just a little speck on my face and it doesn't mean anything, but...I think I'm going to end up in ICU."

Person one: My dad's girlfriend is weird. We have tree bark in our refrigerator. I'm not kidding.
Person two: She'd better be smoking something.
Person one: Oh yeah, she is.

"I'm a good drinker because I'm like, part Irish, part Finnish, part German...like, if it's good at drinking, I'm part it."

Person one: She likes you.
Person two: No she doesn't.
Person one: She does, and you have to ask her out.
Person three: Unless you don't have the guts--
Person one: --or the nuts.

Person one: Oh yeah. I've smoked with him, and his friend, what's-his-name--
Person two: Is there anyone in this school you HAVEN'T smoked with?
Person one: Yeah--you.

[while filming a behind-the-scenes thing for the school play, two people have a fight with a rubber chicken]
Person one: Thus displays the maturity of the cast of A Christmas Story, the school drama 2008.
Person two: Maturity? What's that word mean?
Person one: I rest my case, ladies and gentlemen.

"If you do that again, I'm going to hit you with a blunt penguin."

Person one: Here, put this in the bathroom downstairs! [tosses a massive roll of toilet paper down the stairs]
Person two: Whoa, that's huge!
Person three: That thing should be rolling through a cave chasing Indiana Jones!

"Is there a magic spell or something to shut you up? No? Shit, I was afraid of that."

Person one: They keep shining those stupid keylights into my eyes.
Person two: I'll make them knock it off.
Person one: No need, I've already threatened their lives.

[to a guy who just left his sister's bra on a girl's desk]
"Dude...pick up your bra."

[We were told we could wear costumes to school on Halloween, one guy wore a miniskirt over his jeans for his costume]
Person one: I'm going to take off my pants and just wear this [gestures to skirt] next hour!
Person two: In that case, thank God I'm not in your next hour.

Teacher: If you go to Salem, where the actual witch trials occurred--
Student: FIELD TRIP!
Teacher: Yeah, that'll be the day, when I take an entire sophomore class to Salem on a field trip...