Don't make no deals with the devil

Some shots from Seve's production of Tales of Terror from the Tragic Valley. The annual show contains several vignettes all centered on a theme, this year's being The Twilight Zone. These particular shots are from a scene about a man unsuccessfully trying to kill himself after receiving immortality from the devil. He had tried to throw himself off a building, and when his wife tried to stop him, threw her instead. Thus, you know, jail.

K let's play GUESS WHO.

Guess who went to the wrong address for her new visiting teach-ee? Guess who walked up the driveway to find a man passed out in the yard? Guess who called out "Sir? Sir?" and when she didn't receive a response went up the rest of the way to ring the doorbell in case the man was just the teach-ee's wayward son? Guess who encountered a very unhappy Saint Bernard on her way back to the car when no one answered the door? Guess who called her VT partner in a panic over the whole situation once safely to her car? Guess whose VT partner was confused at her worry because she was picturing this girl trembling in fear at the actual dog of their teach-ee, a Pomeranian? GUESS WHO

Guess who ended up hating his Thomas the Tank Engine costume even though it's his favorite show? Even though he picked it out at the store, even though he's foregoed all titles such as "Mama" and "Dada" and instead simply refers to everyone as "Thomas?" Guess who's mother will now be going as a train for Halloween because she lost the receipt and can't return the costume and doesn't want it to go to waste? GUESS WHO

Guess who ate nothing but pizza and caramel popcorn today because it's my life why not? Guess who now feels like they want to die and throw up all over the living room and kitchen and bathroom and did I mention die? GUESS WHOOOOO

Well, that was a fun game.

ps HAPPY HALLOWEEN

The Mummy's Claw

Promotional photo I took for Twin Falls High School's production of The Mummy's Claw. Seve and I saw it this last Friday and it was fantastic. It was a live radio show performance and James (their director) transformed the stage into an intimate blackbox theatre as though we were inside a radio station, complete with students performing with scripts into microphones and clopping shoes on tables to make the sound effects of footsteps, rotating stone slabs for the sound of the mummy's tomb opening, etc.

This weekend I also took Simon and Graham to Barnes & Noble to pick up some Halloween books. The second we were inside, I saw a local author sitting at a table, hosting a book signing. She was by herself, the table was small, and no one was in line yet. Seeing her made me think of my mother and the time she sat at a Barnes & Noble hosting a book signing, and how hard it was for her. Really good of course, but hard because it was awkward. Writing and authorship is reclusive by nature. It's an act you do alone, but if anyone's going to buy your opus you have to put yourself out there. I decided then and there that, whether it was the next Hunger Games or a book about potatoes, I'd buy this author's book.

Luckily it was right up my alley. A contemporary realistic YA novel about two black kids dealing with darned white kids in the south. That's putting it crudely, but it's really a great read. You can check it out here. Hush Puppy by Lisa T. Cresswell.

I was tempted to tell her that I'm an aspiring author too! and yadda yadda blah blah blah but until I actually have a book out there I'm not eager to really share that with anyone. No one cares if you're writing a book unless it's the sequel to something they've already read.

Taylor Swift Deserves Better

Oh look, me n' baby Graham!

A few years ago I wrote a post on hating teenagers, or maybe just making fun of them, but I'd like to redact that statement.

First of all, I went to a writer's league meeting this weekend and it was strange because:

(a) I'm pretty sure I was the youngest one in the room. By 20 years, minimum.
(b) I was the only one with a laptop, which made me feel rude???
(c) The entire conversation was geared towards a non-tech approach, i.e. carrying a notebook for ideas rather than an app on your smart phone, and submissions via snail mail rather than email (I know places still do this but . . . not the kind I'd bother submitting to)

Immediately after this I went to go meet Seve at the high school where he's holding rehearsals for the annual Halloween show (Tales of Terror from the Tragic Valley, haha) where, naturally, we're the only ones older than 17. And it was . . . awesome? I love his students. I love teenagers! Also, it made me realize that that feeling I had that I was getting old (at the ripe age of 28) isn't really true yet. I met old this weekend, and yeah . . . definitely not there yet. The writer's league meeting wasn't awful by any means, just . . . an experience.

A lot of ellipses in this post.

I write all this to say that I have some quotes from an essay I'd like to share on teenagers, specifically teenage girls, that I really agree with. Teenage girls get a reputation for being ridiculous and eye-roll worthy, but why? Because they unabashedly express their love for things? Because they've been unfairly dealt the role of the face of superficiality? Because they're, heaven forbid, girls?

There's this idea that a novel/film/song about a girl (Pride and Prejudice), for a girl (Twilight), or written by a girl (Taylor Swift) is silly frolicsome fluff, but if it's by a male, it's commentary on the human condition. Yeah, okay.

Below are a few of my favorite excerpts from the essay, and if you have the time, it's really worth the read. Has some language in it, though, so fair warning.

"One of the most popular ways people like to hate teenage girls is to complain about their “insane” crushes on boy band members. Now, let me tell you something: those big dumb crushes are what helps a teenage girl develop her sexuality in a safe environment that she can control. In her world, she can listen to One Direction and hear all these songs about how great she is, and how much these cute non-threatening boys want to make her feel special. Why is this so important? Because no one is pushing them. There’s no fourteen year old boy shoving his clammy hands down your shirt without your consent. These fantasy boys are not convincing a girl to send naked pictures, only to show all their friends and call her a slut. In the fantasy land of boy bands, the girl has all the power. And we need to stop judging them for wanting to escape into that."

At twelve, most girls understand real sadness. Twelve, though it seems so young to us now, felt really old at the time. By this point, you’ve already been told how to be, and realized that you’re not measuring up. By twelve, your skin is already shit, and your body is too flabby or your breasts haven’t come in yet. Worst of all, when you’re a girl, by twelve you’ve probably already been in a situation that made you feel threatened sexually. Let that sink in. From the top of my head, I can think of four moments in my life, before the age of twelve, when someone crossed a line with me. Four. This is not abnormal."

---Read more at "Why I F*cking Love Teenage Girls (A Personal Essay from an Almost Adult)" by Meg

p.s. I now feel inspired to write a post on my favorite media featuring the girls n' ladies, so look for "Taylor Swift Deserves Better Pt 2," coming soon to a blog near you.

Summer Session's Over

Some shots of Seve's students from the production of Cartoon.

I've kept this blog quiet for a long time, but I think all my close online friends eventually wandered away from their blogs too, save a few. About a year ago I wrote a post on loneliness, and how it was kind of consuming me ever since we made the move to Twin Falls. But the truth is loneliness has always been a constant companion in my life, an ugly shoulder-angel that I'd ignore until it was the only thing I could see.

I've never taken medication for anxiety or depression because I've been afraid to, and I've only sought counseling once. It didn't go well. I showed up 20 minutes early to an empty office where the receptionist finally popped her head in 5 minutes past my scheduled time; while I was filling out paperwork the counselor came out, angry that I was "late" and kind of took it out on me during our session. I'd made her late for dinner, apparently.

I'm not one to put myself out there. As mentioned in an earlier post, I made a great friend but she moved away. We now have some cool neighbors across the hall, but I still feel life a goof in my attempts to relate to them. 

So this past year I turned to writing, and made my book characters my friends. Writing helps to turn my depression off, though I know it's not the permanent answer. But writing is something I can do well and feel comfortable in. I've had short stories published in the past and I've read at art festivals and literary conferences (though getting up in front of all those people made me want to throw up all over said people). I'm currently submitting to writing competitions and more publications in an attempt to make a name for myself, and one day get an agent for my novels.

Thus the revamping of my site, and return to blogging. I could simply have a cold, distant professional website for all this, but I'd rather have an open blog where I attempt to relate to people and hopefully they can relate to me. That's why I write, anyway. To find like-minded folks.