Wednesday, 02 November 2011
I've always wanted to be an actor. As long as I can remember, even when I was in kinder, I would act out movies.
Sidenote. I remember watching Barney too and being so jealous of those little kids. Given, it wasn't cause they were acting but I wanted to join in on purple dinosaur festivities. I wanted to give that green tummy a rub or two. I think when I watched the stage show that my parents taped for me, I realized it was a show. And then I started mimicking things I would see on TV.
One of my favorite movies back in the day was Terminator 2: Judgment Day. I didn't too much know it was about a brink of apocalypse caused by machines (although that scene where Sarah disintegrates at the playground should've given me a clue. But then again, maybe not. I was 5 and the only thing on my mind was if all the raindrops were lemondrops and gumdrops, and oh, what a rain that would be!). I knew that Arnold was badass, the action was awesome, and there was a tickle in my stomach (that 5 year old me wouldn't understand till years later) for Sarah Connor.
I remember at the end, when they reach the plant and the T-1000 tries tricking John into thinking he's Sarah. Lo and behold, she comes up from behind with a shotgun and shoots him. But, of course, her gun runs out of ammo as they always do in your time of need and he heals.
In real life, I'm backing up from the TV, with my useless imaginary shotty. I chuck it to the ground and limp backwards.
The T-1000 then impales her through her shoulder and she cries in agony.
I clutch my shoulder, cursing the man who created such an abomination.
T-1000 tells Sarah to call for John and she refuses. He threatens to impale her through the head with his free hand. This is where she says it.
This entire time, my dad is watching as I'm trapped against the side of the couch. I want to say I remember him laughing and enjoying it. But his enjoyment was soon cut short and I make the first defiant move I can consciously remember.
Sidenote. I don't have the movie completely memorized and I debated on this. I thought she might have said, "Go fuck yourself!" but in the end, in my heart of hearts, I think that Sarah Connor gave the T-1000 a good ol' classic "Fuck you!"
My mouth opened to repeat what my hero had just said. My dad quickly erased his smile. Gave me the look and everything. He clearly and strongly said, "Don't you dare." We satred at each other for a bit and he resumed what he was doing.
Beltwhipped for days. Hurting for the craft since the age of 5.
Saturday, 29 October 2011
I've been suffering from writer's block for ... a year and some months now. Nothing seems to cure it so I decided, why not run around in silly circles with a 4 year old and nearly rip her arm out of its socket when she trips and you start to swing her around?
Fun times. :)
I've been trying to be more open recently. More honest, more... real to myself? Knowing what I want and going for it, knowing what I believe and standing up for it, knowing what I'm willing to take and when to walk away. I've decided that I'm gonna be happy, which sounds simple enough, right? Wrong! Accepting it proved to be a little more difficult than I thought because I had some ties than needed to be treated like the wrists of a 14 year old whose parents don't listen: they needed to be cut. Letting go is just as hard as being let go. Deciding to drop your problems and your burdens and then moving forward... scary stuff.
I feel like a new person, like I can finally take the action I've been promising to take for a year now. I think what it is is that I finally took responsibility of my life and can now begin to piece it together. I'm 24 years old, took me long enough.
I've been leaning on others to make me happy, basing my entire happiness on the opinions of others and what they can bring to the table. That is about as unhealthy as hiring Epic Meal Time as my personal chef. I'm the only thing I needed to make me happy and I apologize to anyone I've latched onto. Couldn't have been easy.
Enough of this though! Man up.
My niece and I were playing Kidnapper the other day (awkward...). Not only did she free herself from her restraints 4 times, she taunted me every single time saying, "Is that all you got?"and laughing. And she has 3 kitty tattoos on her arms and a tattoo above her eye that says "Cats Fantasy 3D (All Rights Reserved)". Mini Von D doesn't need a codeword to talk to strangers. Jealous?
Sunday, 06 March 2011
So last night was fun. Went to go see the Vagina Monologues which I was actually happily surprised with (I thought it was gonna be a man-hating estrogen fest complete with a ritualistic burning of an effigy in the shape of a penis. Or maybe even a real penis, I don't know!) and hung out at a friends house for just a bit. Mixing some Sunny D and vodka, the first taste burned my throat so good, I was sipping on it till it was gone. I wasn't buzzed and I went home, called up my cousin and talked for a good two hours about everything.
By the time it was over, I felt a little nice nice and decided to just go to sleep before I did something I'd regret like go for a Denny's run at 2 in the morning (lol). I fell asleep and started dreaming. The strange thing was that I started dreaming as if the night went on.
I was at Denny's. Damn you, double bacon burger and you always hitting the spot.
But you were there as well. We were talking and eating and I just couldn't stop staring at you. Every bite you'd take, the way you'd laugh when I made a fool of myself. You'd close your eyes slightly and that smile would stretch your cheeks. We weren't alone by any means, but we might as well have been. I wanted to stay there forever. And I think you felt the same way.
How was I gonna play this? Should I just say what I feel and get it over with?
I stood up and decided it was time to get home. But for some reason, the alcohol from earlier hit me pretty hard. I couldn't really understand, I barely even drank and I was drunk. The room was shifting, nothing stood still anymore. Was this a sign? Am I being told to stay and enjoy your company some more? Did God just clock me in the head so I'd be unbalanced enough to need to sit back down?
I decided to sit down and began to hint at what I was feeling. I'm used to the hookups but never a real relationship that I'm really into, so maybe that's why I was acting like a girl and getting all excited that I wanted so badly to just go home and write in my diary (Hello, btw Xanga :]).
Usually, when I dream, I realize it is so when things go so well and continue to stay that way. But yet, i had no idea I was dreaming.
Well, I got up and saw that it was getting brighter outside. I go back to say goodbye to everyone, to you. I go back to the front door and that's when I make my decision to go back and say how I feel.
I go back and there you are. I can't stop staring at you. Every bite you take, the smile that stretches your cheeks, and the way you laugh when someone else is making a fool of themselves. I walk up to say goodbye to somebody else and look at you before I walk away. You seem so embarassed of me, so ... impatient for me to go away. And I do, walk into my car and shut the door. The last thing I remember is I adjust the rearview mirror and I see me and see how good I looked and I smiled.
I can't even have you in my dreams.
The universe is tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "Hey, uh, not that you'll listen but maybe you should worry about how your future is going to end up." Well, universe, I'm listening and I think I might even agree this time.
Friday, 04 March 2011
It's one of those things where I've been fighting for so long. I've been fighting to keep the spirits up, keep the faith going, spinning the world around when it stopped. Meanwhile, my feet kept sinking deeper into the ground and before I knew it, I was taking my last breath of air and the dirt filled my lungs. I've been holding my breath for so long, waiting for someone to reach in and pull me out. My lungs are about to explode and I can't feel the ground above me shifting underneath anyone's footsteps. I'm beginning to think no one is coming. I sure as hell picked the wrong place to dig myself in a hole.
But is that really such a bad thing?
I used to be able to hold my own and now I can barely drag it anymore. I used to be able to put myself out there without worrying of being hurt and dodge the salt that people threw at the wounds. I used to be a lot of things and now I've just become one single thing. Nothing. I've shut myself down. The shell still walks around and smiles, but I've gone... I don't even know where. But one thing I'm sure of is that I'm not dead. I'm still out there somewhere and I'm on my way home.
Driving on an almost empty tank and hitting too many red lights, it's about time I blow these stop signs and start gunning down the road. Should a tire blowout, then I'll stomp the pavement all the way back.
I've spent too much on how things went wrong that when I had my back turned, I allowed an even bigger pile to form. Before I know it, I turned to see a mountain before me and no way to pass but to start climbing. One day, I'll make it to the top, set up camp, and keep it all below me.
I'm not going out like this, I'll be damned if I let myself be another somebody who withered into nothing.
I know, in the end, I'll be the one to pull myself out while everyone stands to watch. And that's okay, I wouldn't have it any other way. That's how it should be.
I'm gonna make it. I came to win. To conquer, prosper, thrive. I came to fly.
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Pressing 'Restart' and doing it all over again. Except with a different goal and different expectations.