Interlochen February, Day 7: Don't Be A Halloweenie

DAY 7
February 8
Prompt: "Halloween 2009 and 2010."

In honor of the fact that this is AWT's 100th post, I'm doing a double-prompt today: Halloween 2009, my junior year, and Halloween 2010, my senior year. Two awesome nights...but two very different nights.

2009:
I went as the Joker and hung out with the Scooby-Doo gang (a.k.a. a group of very, VERY cool theater majors, two of whom I didn't even know by name until that night). Many, many pictures were taken. Energy drinks were consumed...not by me though; I hate energy drinks, I don't know why. Maybe the smell. Anyway...

So first, I went to an open room with Zac, Andrew, Shelby, Lindsay, and Yaron to get ready. This involved them getting into their Scooby gang costumes, while I put on my Joker makeup. I remember a lot of jostling and mirror-hogging in the bathroom that night. I think the boys might've tried to help me with the Joker scars...I don't remember.

But I do remember running into so many awesome, awesome people on the way...you see, we'd all been quarantined since the beginning of October, due to some illness scares in Traverse City, so that kind of forced people to get creative. I ran into a Snuggie, a nun, G-Sus (G-sustained...he was a composition major...it's a long story), Adam & Eve, a bride, Marla Singer, a few Greek and Roman goddesses, a gladiator, some vampires, a pirate chick, a few cats, a cross-dresser (several cross-dressers, actually), a geisha, a starving artist, some dolls, a panda, and a dude in a bathrobe. And that was just while we were trick-or-treating!

Once we'd sufficiently frozen ourselves to the bones (it was COLD--remember, this is Northern Michigan at night in October), we went back to the girls' room to warm up before the Halloween dance. (This was where the consumption of energy drinks took place.) Then it was off to Fine Arts, the go-to building for dances. This was before it was renovated, back in the lovely days of the sketchy loft and icky floors and not much room and tiny, tiny, TINY bathrooms. So imagine that, okay? And then picture about 200 kids crammed inside. Hormonal, sugar-high kids, to be precise, half of them more than halfway out of there costumes. Can you imagine how ridiculously hot it was in there?

So, I'm having a good time with my friends, dancing away, being amused by Erica (dressed as, and I quote, "a Catholic girl from Manchester who just lost her Bible"), and then something truly awesome happened.

Two gay boys (remember, people, this is Interlochen) climb into the loft, one of them a theater major dressed in a Little Black Dress and heels, the other a dance major wearing a skirt made out of Bosco Stick wrappers stapled to a pair of spandex shorts. They proceed to put on a little mini-show for us, dancing like goofballs and trying to stir up the crowd. They get told to back off after an entirely too short time (curse you, Interlochen chaperones!) but if you ask me what I remember most about Halloween 2009, that is DEFINITELY it.


2010:
Halloweekend starts the night before Halloween: Saturday, October 30, 2010. (Remember, non-Inty graduates, our school weeks used to run Tuesday-Saturday.) I was shaking partly from fear, partly from cold--it was less than tropical in the warehouse-like building I was currently inside of, and I was wearing a little red dress and sheer red scarf, playing the part of a vampire victim in a haunted house.

Yes, you read that right. I, the Queen of Being Scared Shitless, was willingly participating in a haunted house.

What possessed me to do this? I have no idea. I just know that I heard myself volunteer at that meeting with the Student Activities group, not wanting to be left out of the fun, and the next thing I knew, I was "chained" to an old-fashioned dining room chair, sitting in a freezing-cold warehouse at 8:00 PM on a cold October night, with eerie music playing and screams all around me. I was as terrified as I would be if I had to actually walk through the haunted house (my one consolation now was that I couldn't really see what was going on around me; I was separated from the other "acts" by a big black curtain). My "vampire" was really a close friend, Bonnie, who kept me warm between scares by hugging me (always my preferred method). I was a nervous wreck and kept asking why in the HELL I'd agreed to this until the Haunted Trail event actually began, and we got our first group of already-freaked-out people, ready and waiting to be scared...

I screamed.

I mean I SCREAMED. I was already wired, and the cold did not help, and I was as scared as the people walking through the trail, and when I heard footsteps, I let loose. Bonnie popped out from behind what I think was just this big, black crate, and came over to "suck my blood" before creeping on the kids (who, by that point, were also freaking out).

And then it was over, and our first group was gone. And you know what? I wasn't scared anymore. That was fun. It was like acting again...and my God, I didn't realize how much I missed acting. I wasn't me, the scaredy-cat, anymore. I was a vampire victim. I was the scarer, instead of the scare-ee.

I felt like a bamf.

Aside from the freezing cold, the Haunted Trail was a success. But it was just the beginning. Halloweekend continued on Sunday...kicked off by a lovely sleet storm...and, of course, during this storm, I was wearing a poodle skirt and saddle shoes, because we'd all agreed to wear our costumes during the day as well as for trick-or-treating. (Interlochen kids, for those of you who don't know, trick-or-treat at faculty housing every year.)

I didn't watch the horror movie that they showed in DeRoy that day. I just hung out in the library with lovely-as-ever Mishka (a.k.a. Mrs. Lovett) and Gustavo (a.k.a. Freddy Krueger). Oh, and I helped Ellie (who ended up going as Sweeney Todd) with her costume. That was fun. Oh, and I kept getting the crap scared out of me by Gustavo and his LOVELY Freddy mask...that was fun... *raises sarcasm hand*

I remember very little about the actual trick-or-treating. I remember that I stuck close to Thomas the whole time, because I was afraid of getting left behind. I remember Ms. Tye, my screenwriting teacher, dressed up as a zombie (which was AWESOME). I remember that it was cold--like, really cold--but this didn't phase Mishka at all; she went around the whole night in that sleeveless dress like a pro, while the rest of us shivered. I also remember that Gustavo spent more time trying to torment Mishka and the other girls than he did with his Hindu-God-consistently-mistaken-for-Smurf-or-Blue-Man-Group boyfriend (his costume was literally blue body pain...it was awesome), which I didn't mind one bit, because it left me someone to cling to and cuddle with. (Oh, the fun of having gay best friends.)

As for the dance...well, it sucked. I'll just be blunt: it sucked. I don't even remember who the DJ was. I remember that at one point the music cut out and a bunch of lights came on from nowhere...that was just weird...but what happened concerning NaNoWriMo was so much more important that I pretty much just forgot about the damn dance.

Ah, NaNoWriMo. Interlochen Gold. If you were part of the Dead Poet group, and you DIDN'T participate in NaNo, what was wrong with you?! If you did, you subjected yourself to a month of sleeplessness, energy drinks, sugar highs, coffee, dropping grades, diminishing sanity, and writer lectures (Emily and Mishka usually gave the best ones, just for the record.) Everyone really was crazy for NaNoWriMo; you might as well jump on the bandwagon. No use arguing; save your energy for writing.

So that year on Halloween, I became initiated into my first-ever NaNo celebration. We planned out a trip for the next day, so we could stock up on sugar and caffeine for the upcoming insanity. Then we planned to start writing at midnight and keep writing as long as we could, and then meet at noon the next day to show each other what we'd written.

And the resulting trip, the next day, was even better...but that's another story for another blog post. ;)

Excerpt from my NaNo Novel

Because that's just how I roll. ;)

[Note 1: In December, once I start revising this sucker, I'll actually post the whole thing, probably on a standalone blog.]

[Note 2: Just a little background--the novel is about an NYU graduate film school student who decides to challenge the MPAA. This passage is from the beginning of chapter 3.]

A few days later, I have mail. Not e-mail, real mail, so rare these days, which makes it an incredible treat.

I lock the mailbox, hurry upstairs and open my prize. The handwriting on the envelope looks vaguely familiar, and when I open it up I see why: it’s a letter from an old friend, a former Collierite, currently studying at USC.

Miranda—I’ll cut right to the chase.

You don’t know what’s been going on these last few months. We need you out here, and we need you bad. We’re in the Heart of Hollywood; the MPAA has so much control it’s ridiculous. Indie directors and screenwriters are screwed like you wouldn’t believe. Dropping the f-bomb in a PG-13 film and getting away with it is considered a victory. And yet people complain that the MPAA is getting too loose, that their standards are slipping…which is in all likelihood the reason for the crackdown in the first place.

I know you’re busy, I know you’re working hard at NYU, but please, Miranda, we need someone like you. You’ve rebelled in the past, and you have a history with USC. You spoke at the film festival and blew everyone away. Please come out here, just for a few weeks. We need someone who’s got the heart, and if your speech at the festival was any indication, you’ve got heart to spare. We’re all at our wit’s end. We need a lobbyist, and I remember how passionate you can be when you care about something. You know how to get a crowd going. We’ve suffered defeat. We’re lagging. We need a rebel. We need a kick-ass woman like you.

I sent you this in a letter instead of an e-mail for two reasons. First of all, I know you love getting mail, and yes, you might consider that to be sucking up, but frankly I’m beyond caring, as long as it gets you out here. Second, there can’t be any records of our group activity anymore. We have to be careful. So if you do come out here, don’t make it public. Tell Conor and Adrienne, if you must, but no one else.

Miranda, I am begging you—no, not begging. I’m simply asking you, filmmaker-to-filmmaker, but more than that, Collierite-to-Collierite, if you will come out here. I can’t keep this group going on my own, and people are starting to drift—they don’t see the point, they think there’s no use in fighting. But there is, and I know you know that. Please help me. You’re my secret weapon. My Woman in Black. (Don’t tell me you don’t remember that.)

And for the love of God, Miranda, hurry. Our resistance is crumbling. (Did that appeal to the former drama student in you? I hope so.)

Missing you (as always),

Cooper Riley

I read and reread the letter, analyzing from every angle and squeezing every last drop of meaning that I can out of it. My instincts are screaming at me to go, to pack up and get on the next flight to California. Adrienne would approve. I know she would. She’s always telling me to “hang the bloody consequences.” If I go, she will cover for me here until I get back.

But Conor…no. He won’t like this, not at all. And neither will Callahan. In fact, if I showed this letter to Callahan, he would have a stroke, a heart attack, and an aneurysm all at the same time…and then he’d burn the letter and give me a three-hour lecture on why rebellion must be treated with caution.

“It’s meant to be a subtle buildup, not a siege,” he’s always telling me, when I recount my glory days as a Dead Poet.

Hang consequences, Miranda! Go! Go to them! No, don’t…you’ll never get work again if you do.

The conflict bats in my head like a tennis match. I can’t go. I can’t. But oh, God how I want to.

If you do this, you will regret it for the rest of your sorry career, my inner Callahan warns me.

If you don’t do this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, Adrienne’s voice counters sharply.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

I fish in the kitchen drawer until I find Adrienne’s cigarette lighter. It’s red, a dark, rich red, with silver carvings down one side. It fits perfectly in my hand. I’ve never held it before now.

I stand over the sink with the letter in one hand and Adrienne’s lighter in the other.

Do it.

I can’t!

Do it.

I can’t!

You can’t go. Burn the damn thing. Stop torturing yourself.

The little yellow flame dances in front of my eyes, teasing me, flirting with me. It’s hungry. It wants that paper.

Burn it. Now!

The resulting blaze lasts only a few brilliant moments—it is, after all, only one sheet of paper. I turn on the water and watch the crumbling remains of the burned letter slide down the garbage disposal. It’s not until I turn the water off and see a drop fall onto my sleeve that I realize I’m crying.

Gone. It’s gone, it’s over, I made my choice and there’s no turning back.

I'm back...

I'm sorry. That's all I can say. I know how pathetic it is that I haven't blogged for a month, and I wish I'd kept up. But college really is an insane time. The ridiculous amounts of homework, the stress of trying to make new friends and make yourself at home in a new environment, the strange new teachers (and I do mean STRANGE, guys, I assure you), and above all else, the fact that your future is at stake constantly hanging over your head.

So, I'm nineteen years old today. I wish I could write something awesome and profound and beautiful...but that just wouldn't be my style. Instead I'll update everyone on my current obsessions:

1. NaNoWriMo

This is my November obsession. This year, I'm determined to finish--and I'm actually doing surprisingly well. Yes, I know it's silly, but I love writing, and I've never actually finished a novel before, and this seems like too much fun to miss. Ignore my beatnik silliness--or let it inspire you, why not? I still say next year, EVERYONE should do NaNoWriMo.

2. Cloud Cult

Okay, so it's no secret that I like Augustana, right? Well, if you like Augustana, you will rapidly, easily get addicted to Cloud Cult. Their songs are, quite literally, epic. And by epic, I mean beautiful, melodic, soaring, poetic, and heroic. They're like a gentler version of Jim Steinman and Meatloaf. Look up any of their songs on YouTube (my introduction to them was "There's So Much Energy in Us," so I'd recommend you start there), and you will see why I love them so much.

3. Criminal Minds

Yeah. I am in love with this show, and I don't care who knows it. How can I not be, when there's a character like Spencer Reid involved? And let's not forget the ever-yummy Shemar Moore as Derek Morgan...I mean, okay, yes, I mostly do watch the show for the amazing direction, epic storylines, beautiful framing and lighting, and impeccable dialogue, but...really, a girl has eyes, you know? ;)

4. A Clockwork Orange

This movie is absolutely beautiful beyond words. I am completely in love with Alex DeLarge, and no, it's not just because an absolutely gorgeous actor plays him. It's because there has never been a character in cinema, except maybe Hannibal Lecter, who is so utterly compelling that you can't help but root for him even as you watch him rape a writer's wife, kill a cat-lover, and push his best friends into a river.

5. Goat cheese

I don't know what it is about this stuff, but it's bloody addictive. I've put it on everything--salad, pizza, even toast (which was actually really good, just in case you want to try it). It's salty, it's crumbly, it's highly flavorful, and you feel so much more sophisticated eating it than you do eating regular cheese. I don't know why that is (the bit about the sophistication, I mean) but I swear that's what happens. Try it, if you don't believe me.

6. Italy

Possibly because I'll be going there in less than two months, you think? Yeah, I'd say. But hey, if you were offered the opportunity to go around Southern Italy and Sicily and do nothing but take pictures for ten days, you would go, wouldn't you? I'd hope so. You can't imagine how much it means to me--a geeky little cinema nerd who has never left her own country, unless you count driving 45 minutes to get to Canada--to be able to go overseas and be douchey and artistic AND GET SCHOOL CREDIT FOR IT. Honestly...welcome to liberal arts school, folks.

7. CalArts

I NEED to go to this school. Maybe I'll transfer, or maybe I'll just wait until grad school, but either way, I HAVE TO STUDY THERE...I mean...TIM BURTON studied there, for heaven's sake...as did about three-fourths of the Pixar team. And yes, I know it's in the dreaded California, and I know that I made a big deal about wanting to go to the east coast for a few years first, and hey, maybe I'll still do that...but I know that if I'm going to get anywhere in this industry, I HAVE to go to CalArts. End of story.

8. Daniel Radcliffe

My Dan addiction has flared up big-time as of late. Why? I have no idea. I could blame the fact that this time of year, Harry Potter is on every bloody family channel in America, cited as part of a "holiday celebration"...why, exactly? What does Harry Potter have to do with Thanksgiving or Christmas, or don't I want to know? Anyway, I don't particularly care why my must-have-Radcliffe-itis is flaring up again. I just know that it is, and it can only be satisfied by reading and watching every interview I can possibly find.

9. Wedding dresses

Yes, you read that right. I don't know why, but I swear my internet history must be 50% David's Bridal at this point. I have no immediate plans to get married, nor am I writing out any wedding scenes in my NaNo novel, but for some reason I just keep going back and staring at the pretty dresses. I've always loved the Cinderella ballgown and its modern sisters, but really, this is just getting ridiculous.

10. The MPAA

I'll rant in greater detail about my contempt for the ratings system later. For now, everyone should just know that the subject of my NaNo novel is about a grad-school student who challenges the MPAA. Is this wise for me to admit, being a film student? Probably not. No, definitely not. Pretend I never said anything. Just go watch This Film is Not Yet Rated--Kirby Dick says it much better than I ever could.

The Checklist

Checklist before leaving for Thanksgiving Break:

1. Turn in lab report. (Check!)
2. Turn in reading response. (Check!)
3. Clean room. (Check!)
4. Pack. (Check!...sort of)
5. Say good-bye to Mishka and the Hottest Suitemates (Check!)
6. TURN EIGHTEEN! (CHECKCHECKCHECK!)

I had an AMAZING birthday! My parents came up and gave me like a thousand cupcakes to distribute to my friends and MPA classmates. I felt like a cupcake fairy all day! "Here...have one! They're yummy! They make everything better!" My mom makes a MEAN cupcake! ;)

I went to dinner tonight with my roommate and mom, we hung out in a hotel room with my dad and watched Pirates of the Caribbean, then us girls went to the mall and chilled for a while, and THEN I came back and walked around the cold (but very, VERY beautiful) Interlochen campus before coming back and helping clean up the lobby...fun times!

The Present Log for today: iTunes gift card and AmEx gift card (from my parents), colored pencils (from my awesomealistic roommate), Betsey Johnson necklace and matching bracelet (from my mom), Michael Jackson DVD (also from my mom).

Best moments of today: Mr. Nadji (Mr. Physics Teacher) giving me an animal cracker with a candle on top of it so I could make a birthday wish; entire MPA major singing happy birthday to me; dude I have a crush on literally RUNNING to me to give me a hug and wish me happy birthday; talking to Dad about the patheticness of sequels; CUPCAKES; huggles and birthday wishes from my best friends; collecting soooo much stolen dialogue; SEEING MY PARENTS; hanging out in the library with Mishka, Gus, and Ellie.


NANO UPDATE
Well, NaNo is going splendidly crappily. My plot changed (AGAIN), and between lovely college apps and homework it's looking very unlikely I will get 50,000 words by December. That said I will NOT give up on my novel, I love it. I just don't think I am going to win the NaNo this year. Maybe next year, I'll be able to do it since I'll already be IN college and won't have to apply anywhere.


I'll have a better post next time, I swear.

STOLEN DIALOGUE:

"I want my boyfriend to look like Hugh Jackman!"

Person one: Shall we count the number of times you used the F-word in that sentence?
Person two: No, Avery, we shall not.

Person one: No one's told you about Holiday Dinner?
Person two: No...
Person one: You are sadly uninformed.

Person one: Can you come over?
Person two: Yeah.
Person one: I'm warning you, I just had a Chem test. I'm going to be annoyed. I'm going to be an asshole.
Person two: I can be there in ten minutes.

Person one (quoting a comedian): Cocker poodle: Half poodle, half cocker spaniel, all bad idea.
Person two: Michael Jackson Fanfiction: Half Michael Jackson, half fanfiction, all bad idea.
Person three: Wait, there's MICHAEL JACKSON fanfiction? Isn't that blasphemy?

"Speaking of gay, are you free tonight? Wait, that came out wrong..."

Person one: One day, you need to politely tell your parents to bugger off.
Person two: I can't even tell YOU to bugger off, how can I tell that to my parents?
Person one: I'm just persuasive.

Person one: I'm going to be blunt...no, I'm not.
Person two: Oh, come on, be blunt, I'm used to it.
Person one: You are not! When am I blunt?
Person two: When are you NOT blunt?
Person one: Give me concrete examples!
Person two: "Direct me to the ass which needs kicking..."
Person one: That wasn't blunt.
Person two: "Tell your parents to bugger off..."
Person one: Okay, that WAS blunt.

Person one: He is as queer as a three-dollar bill.
Person two: I had a dream once that those existed!

Person one: Muchos nachos, muchacha! (Much nachos, woman!)
Person two: I should put you on speaker, so Liz can hear you speaking Spanish.
Person three: Oh, she speaks Spanish?
Person two: In the very loosest sense.

Person one: He was very confused about his sexuality last year.
Person two: That, and he wanted a snog.

Person one: So I was talking to Connor--
Person two: Ooh, he's a hunksicle!
Person one: What? No! He's, like, a cross between a teddy bear and an older brother!
Person two: No, he's a hunksicle!
Person one: No! A hunksicle would indicate that he's very good-looking and very cold!
Person two: He IS good-looking!
Person one: But he's warm! I hugged him earlier!
Person two: Oooooh!
Person one: Are you going to do this with every guy I mention?
Person two: Yes!
Person one: Gustavo! [name of gay dude]
Person two: [shuts up]

"There are more gay dudes here than pencil sharpeners!"

Person one: So I got called down to the desk and the counselor was like, "Your mom called, she said to make sure you work on your college applications today." SHOOT ME NOW.
Person two: Dear God in heaven...your mother needs a freaking house in Jamaica, with a lifetime supply of martinis...and maybe some Valium.
Person one: Agreed! WHYYYYY? Why does she do this to me?
Person two: Because she is in desperate need of either relaxation or a kick in the arse.
Person one. Or both.
Person two: That too.

Person one: I know I'm reasonably smart, but whenever I'm around you guys or Harry I feel exponentially less intelligent.
Person two: Was that a compliment?
Person three: Yeah, she was saying we're smart!
Person one: Uh, you guys ARE smart.
Person three: I don't know...after those auditions today, I feel like those actors think I'm the dumbest motherf**ker that ever lived!

NEXT UP: Thanksgiving Break! There WILL be a series post on this...I SWEAR. I don't know exactly how or what yet, but it WILL happen.

Blogging NaNoWriMo: Part One

I'm not even going to comment on my October Fail. I will just say this: It's better than March of last year. And in my defense, I was working on college apps. SO THERE.

That said, there will be a LOT more blogging in November, because 1) I'm almost done with apps, and 2) it is NATIONAL NOVEL WRITING MONTH, and it's my first time doing it, so I'm going to have a blast with this.

The "official" rules of NaNoWriMo:
1. Start your novel at the beginning of November (optionally, at midnight on Halloween)
2. Get 50,000 words by the end of November
3. Don't steal any ideas from published authors or your fellow writers

The UNOFFICIAL rules of NaNoWriMo:
1. Drink a Mack truck full of coffee every day.
2. Either eat loads of sugar or drinks tons of energy drinks.
3. Load up on caffeine at every possible opportunity.
4. Neglect everything else in favor of NaNoWriMo.
5. Stay up late into the night (my personal record is 7:00 AM) writing.
6. Be as douche-y and as "starving artist" as you possibly can.
7. Compete with fellow NaNoers to be as ragged and beat-up a possible. (Ex. "I only slept four hours last night!" "Oh yeah? Well I slept THREE!")
8. Alternate your writing playlist between depressing, sappy music and upbeat, fun music for maximum variety in your novel-writing.


So for the entirety of November, I will be working on a 50,000 word novel, in addition to my thesis and my college apps. Is NaNoWriMo silly? Of course it is! But you know what, while it's not an ideal way to write a book - *coughQUANTITYOVERQUALITYcoughcough* - but it's fun, it's rebellious (it IS, damn it) and it's a good way to bond with your fellow writers. Why not have a good time, and practice writing in the process? It's a great way to hone your skills for stuff that REALLY matters.

And, hey, if anyone can't get into NaNo, you can also do Script Frenzy in April...but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

So since I'm discussing NaNoWRiMo, I HAVE to share something I've written for it, right? So tonight I'll just share the summary (I won't upload EVERYTHING I write for NaNo--I'll probably put it on DeviantART at the end of the month, though), and with each post I'll share a bit of the story. Sound good?

So here is the summary and working title:

"Spectrum"

Sixteen-year-old aspiring writer Emma Stephenson has always lived in the heart of the famously sheltered Mackinac Island. But when a dangerous combination of politics and newcomers turn the peaceful island into a chaotic near-war zone, Emma is unceremoniously shipped off to a college preparatory boarding school on the mainland and confronted with situations she’s never heard of, let alone expected to face.

At first Emma thinks it can’t be that hard; from her media-driven knowledge of boarding school she expects rules and discipline. To her shock, the rules are minimal and the kids are allowed to do whatever they please, so long as they get their schoolwork done. Lost on the shores of brisk, sunny Torch Lake, stripped of everything she knows or cares for, Emma feels like her life is virtually over.

Until…

The Gay-Straight Alliance meets on a windy October afternoon and a reluctant Emma is dragged along by her new friend, Ramie. There she spots someone she’s never spoken to, or even really seen: A boy with lime-green hair and a serious lack of inhibition. But is it really a boy? Or is the mysterious person something that Emma can’t even begin to understand? Before long the rumors circulate, the game is up, and Emma not only begins to question her friends’ beliefs, but also her own.

It seems more autobiographical than it is, I swear. Emma and I really are nothing alike. If I met her in real life, prior to her character's "transformation," I would probably want to smack her (you'll see why when I start posting bits of the novel).


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In other news...

How many people are ready to slap me with a wet noodle if I gush about Michael Jackson on this blog ONE MORE FREAKING TIME? *looks into cyberspace* Yeah, well, get your wet noodles ready, because I'm about to gush like a firehose...

Today I saw Ghosts, Michael's short film/music video about, well, ghosts (and idiot mayors) and immediately decided that there was no point in going to film school and that I should just quit now and become a starving artist, because there is no way that ANY film that I make will EVER be this beautiful. You think I'm exaggerating? I'm not.

Well, okay, I am a little, but only about the starving artist part, I swear. (There is no power on this earth that will make me drop out of school, especially before I've even gotten into film school. Come on, guys, you know me better than that.) BUT this movie is absolutely incredible, and no joke, I DID cry when I saw this...I can't explain why. Here's what I can explain: Michael Jackson + Stephen King = UNBEATABLE. It's like The Corpse Bride had a baby with "Thriller" (try getting THAT image out of your head).

"Ghosts" has the honor of being the World's Longest Music Video (I'm not even exaggerating about that - it's in the Guinness Book of World Records), at roughly 40 minutes long, directed by Stan Winston and written by Stephen King, Mick Garris and (of course) Michael Jackson. It's about a man called the Maestro (Michael Jackson) arguing with the mayor of a "normal" town (also played by Michael Jackson - but by looking at the video you wouldn't know it) about whether or not the Maestro is "bad" for doing magic tricks and telling ghost stories to the town's children. Of course music, dancing, and theatrics ensue, along with plenty of scares and a boatload of CGI, and some ghoulish backup dancers. I swear, though, it's not a re-do of "Thriller," it does have some of the same elements, but it has a very Tim Burton feel to it and it's every bit as sweet, sad, innocent and "aww!"-able as Edward Scissorhands.

I could go on about this all night, but here's the heart of the matter: "Ghosts" is amazing. Watch it. End of story.

Part one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2egr4TDjMBM

Part two:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0tmEF5vIpE&feature=related

Part three:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RXS9G2J71Q&feature=fvw

Part four:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVHKhxdPeZs

Part five:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLwmhvYvGzQ

It looks like an MJ overload, and it is - but it's well worth waiting the 30+ minutes it takes for each YouTube part to download.

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No quotes/stolen dialogue this time because I've been pathetic and haven't written any down...but don't worry, next time there will be PLENTY.

Besides, you don't have time to read stolen dialogue - you have to watch "Ghosts"! DO IT NOW!

...Please? *imagine MJ giving you puppy eyes* *imagine ME giving you puppy eyes*