So last night I had a dream that I died. Well, whatever. The thing was, I started arguing with God about it. I was a little angry because apparently I wasn't supposed to die yet. So finally God goes, Look, if you hadn't died now, this is how you would have died - and so I see a vision of an alternate death in a scenario that included a potato chip and a pencil. After viewing my unspectacular death by potato-chip-and-pencil, I turned to God and said, Ok, You win.

A book I think I shall some day buy: The Hollywood Assistant's Handbook. I got to flip through it some in Barnes and Noble the other day, and besides having a snarky sense of humor, it actually had some interesting and helpful tips for aspiring Hollywood assistants. Not that we actually aspire to be assistants...

I don't know what it is about me that screams well-informed native, but on my routine jaunt around town, two people stopped me to ask for directions. Little do they know that my working knowledge of how our area is laid out, the bus routes, and the direction of the nearest highway is pretty much nil.

I proved this by, after giving these helpless strangers muttered and vague directions, making poor travel decisions. There's a large mall some ways away from my house, but I was already out at a coffee house and decided that it was much too early to head in. So I decided to see if I could find out a good way to get to the mall from the coffee shop. I don't know; back roads may work, but only when there's not a river between you and your objective. And I seem to have a knack for picking the side of the road with the most unkempt sidewalk. If there is a sidewalk.

The thing is, I don't have a bad sense of direction. I kept a pretty good mental map of where I was in relation to the mall - even when I was passing it and walking far beyond it on the wrong side of the river. And I could have given up, easily turned around and walked back to the house or maybe to the library where I could be sure of air conditioning and wireless, but once I set my mind to go somewhere, I'm not easily deterred. First I just wanted to get over that bloody river. Once I had crossed the river, I had won. But once I had finally found a road over the river, I knew I was close to the mall. And once I was that close to the mall, there was no way I was going to give up and turn around. Even though the site of a Cinnabon almost broke my determination down. Moral of the story? Even though it's not always fun to be a pedestrian walking along major roads boarding major highways, the back roads are not always quicker or easier.

So I made it to the mall. But it's actually a pretty boring mall. Quite upscale and out of my price range, so that as I wander around with my flip flops and Steve Madden backpack, I feel like I have to be watch out for the security guards who look more like policemen, just in case they might throw a vagabond like me out.

The redeeming quality? A Barnes and Noble. Where I plan on spending plenty of time happily perusing books I'll buy later on Half.com until I call my dad and see if he can drive over a couple towns to pick me up...

Really Enjoyable

I am not a hot weather person. I tried to convince myself that I was, that I was sad when it started getting cold up in the mountains at the end of camp, but the truth is, I can only handle it for a couple of days. That's with the promise of air conditioning somewhere in the house.

I am slowly getting back into the life and mindset of a film major. I'm checking up on the blogs I follow, buying new yellow legal pads, playing with ideas, trying to convince my brother my website needs to go up now, doing research (gasp!). Most of my ideas for independent-of-class projects seemed to just slide away in improbability, but a couple of nights ago I got a new idea for a stand alone short. It's pretty depressing, about as opposite from "Join This Group?" as you can get, but it's sorta dropped into my head fully formed. Might as well write it down. I'm having trouble with some of my feature ideas, hashing them out, finding the tension, getting a handle on good pacing. Sometimes there are so many decisions to be made about a story, I'm not sure what direction to take it in. Part of this is...

I have the attention span of a hyperactive puppy. Though I'm not really hyperactive. This makes focusing on a story long enough to work out what the best plot is really really difficult. I've always been sort of an impulsive and impatient writer. My screenwriting professor last year labeled me a "binge writer." It's true. I really enjoying writing "Collapse" last semester when I had five hours before class and half an act to write. Because I have no choice but to focus then. Still, part of me thinks it's a little bit silly to focus while I'm at home. Why start working on a new project when my second screenwriting class is going to start in a week or two? Especially since I'm hoping to convince the professor to let me take two scripts through the rewriting coursework, instead of just one...

I'm also reading a book, which is, with my fore-mentioned attention span, sorta a thing of the past. But I'm reading Card's Ender's Game and really enjoying it. And listening to Coldplay's new CD, Viva la Vida, and really enjoying that. And as much as I said I hated hot weather, it's not too bad today, so all in all, this has turned into an enjoyable afternoon.

Beautifully positive :)

They were sitting
They were sitting on the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious

They were sitting
They were talking under strawberry swing
Everybody was for fighting
Wouldn't wanna waste a thing

Cold, cold water bring me round
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Cold, cold water what ya say?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day

I remember
We were walking up to strawberry swing
I can't wait until the morning
Wouldn't wanna change a thing

People moving all the time
Inside a perfectly straight line
Don't you wanna curve away?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day

Now the sky could be blue
I don't mind
Without you it's a waste of time

Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

Could be blue,
could be grey
without you I’m just miles away

could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

- "Strawberry Swing" by Coldplay

If I were Dorothy...

I'm back. Back to the land of normalcy, of things we take for granted like cell phone service and clean showers and air conditioning. It was a long, difficult summer, but in the end I think God accomplished a lot, and that's what matters. However, it will be nice to take a break from being that princess treading water. ; )

So don't judge me yet. But I'm going go to see the Star Wars Clone movies. It's only because it's free and it's quality time with my brothers. Hayden Christensen isn't even really in it...

It's hot. I can't really focus or think all that straight. I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing. Or at least in the writing mindset. I didn't write at all during camp proper, and the time I did spend writing during precamp totaled about 45 minutes. I looked through some of my screenplay files today. There are actually a couple of ideas that I really like. I wrote down a couple of goals I have for this upcoming semester. It's a bit difficult to get back into writing after not having written for two months. I think that most of my confidence comes from writing, so I feel like a lot of it has been sapped away. Every time I sit down to write there's an underlying sense of panic anyway. The longer I spend away from writing the worse it gets. Oh well. Baby steps back into the writing lifestyle. My uni town has a much better writing atmosphere anyway. And a class to help motivate me.

I've been listening to a few of Coldplay's new songs. Amazing, as always.

Deep in the 100 Acre Woods

So I've been learning some things. Like be careful what you say in Bible Ex when talking about your seat choice or about the water that flows from the dam. But on a serious side, this job is exhausting and sometimes oddly rewarding. Still, I'm counting down the days until I can hold my baby nephew.

Cherith Castaways

This week... yeah. Let's just leave it at that.

PS

I went to the rodeo, and it was such amazing fun. I can completely see a movie set there behind-the-scenes, a la A Mighty Wind or Best in Show.

Sports Mania

So I was in Borders today (on day off), and found a journal that was like creativity on training wheels. On each page it told you what to write/draw/doodle/sew. It was an interesting idea, if a little odd when one stopped to think about it. Why shouldn't we be able to come up with what we want to fill our journal pages with on our own?

I literally lived in darkness for half the week. It stormed a lot this week, which is really a nuisance when most camp activities take place outside and any time there's thunder it all those activities have to shut down for twenty minutes. My most exceptional day this week was by far Wednesday.

It was pouring that morning, just like it had Monday morning and Tuesday morning. The counselors in our division were sitting in our little room shelter out in E-land, just finishing up our morning meeting, when the bugle started to crackle. It was about time for the bugle to play from the PA system to wake the campers up, but there was something a little odd about the crackling. Oh no, we thought, it's going to blow really really loud. Instead of the normal bugle, however, a deep, male voice comes from over the PA system.

"FIRE CALL. FIRE CALL."

By the time we found out officially it had been a mistake, we were already soaked in the thunder storm, and our girls were more than woken up. Things went back to normal. But the storm got worse. And worse. Until our division director collected the girls in the division early and took them away. I decide to hang out in the division for a bit longer. Until lightning struck very close behind one of the tents, and I made a run for it. Sadly, my poncho was in the staff lounge.

By the time I got to the dining hall, almost the entire camp was there, having been evacuated from their divisions. The girls tried to have their morning devotional times at their tables, some of them still in their pajamas. Their counselors raided extra staff clothing bags in the laundry room for dry clothes while dozens of shoes were thrown in the dryer. We played Scattergories as a camp after breakfast until the storm had calmed down enough for us to return to our divisions and follow rainy day procedures for the rest of the morning.

The sun didn't come out again until Thursday after lunch. My girls emerged from the tent after rest time, stepped into the sun, and cried, "Look at the sky! Look at the sky!" In my imagination, they're definitely raising their hands and pointing their fingers.

It was interesting, no doubt. A little bit fun and a little bit scary, if only during the false fire alarm. I'm actually kinda grateful for the storms, though. Prior to the fire alarm and the evacuation, I had been in a terrible mood, brooding on frustrations and annoyances and fears. All the craziness helped break the routine and helped dismiss my frustrations. This summer at camp hasn't been the easiest, and there have been a lot of discouraging moments. But I don't take that as an indication that I shouldn't be here.

I'll probably just be oh so tired when I get home in three and a half weeks.

Once Upon a Time in a Nursery Rhyme

Meet me in Chicago
Down by the water line
Step across the gold coast
To my heart and to your wine
Maybe Cincinnati
With a trip in the morning light
Step across the branches
I will follow you over the Rhine

And it takes one to know one
That's what they always say
I've waited for the dawn
And I've waited for the day
Oh, I'm coming low
And I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze
One more day on a wide open road
On and on and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance
On through the resistance singing
Oooooooh...

Meet me in Portland
Roast here in the summer light
See you in the evergreens
I will catch you down on the Northeast side
And maybe San Diego
Moonlight at the lowest tide
See you in the shoreline breaker
Stepping over my maker's line

And it takes one to know one
That's what they always say
I've waited for the dawn
And I've waited for the day
Oh, I'm coming low
And I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze
One more day on a wide open road
On and on and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance
On through the resistance singing
Oooooooh...

You met me on the backstreets
Right there at the end of the line
Where a spark turns into fire
And a tear falls into life

And it takes one to know one
That's what they always say
I've waited for the dawn
And I've waited for the day
Oh, I'm coming low
And I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze
One more day on a wide open road
On and on and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance
On through the resistance
On a wide open road
On and on and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance
On through the resistance singing
Ooooooooh...

Meet me in Chicago
Down by the water line
You stepped across the gold coast
Stepped into this heart of mine

- "Chicago" by Mat Kearney