Whatever You Imagine...

One of my favorite parts of the Pagemaster is the part where they reach the fantasy section of the library and there are a whole bunch of fairies and mystical crap. Somewhat cynical as I am, it's hard for me to think that I actually enjoy the fairy scene. However, when I really think about it, a world of wonder for a person is their eyes being open to new and astounding things. When I went to New York for the first time, seeing tall skyscrapers adorned with flashing billboards and neon lighting was amazing, considering that's not exactly something you see in downtown Greenfield. It kind of makes me wonder what I would create if I could make up my own world. I dont' know if I would make myself the empress or whatever, but it would be nice to kind of get along with everybody, or everything, I guess. Talking trees and magical artifacts are somewhat cliche, to say the very least. I think my world would be more of a reality with a touch of fantasy. Like, human beings being able to fly and whatnot. Personally, I would give myself the ability to read minds. Terribly useful. Naturally, with any created universe, the creator (aka Me) would be able to do whatever they wanted. But I wouldn't make it quite so easy to override conflict. Half the real fun of reality is challenges. Screw dragons and giant eyes levitating over volcanoes, I'd fight the IRS.

So I ask again, if you could spend a day in a world of wonder, what wonders would you create?

Copying Chris...

Carie...

1) ...can't go to bed until her parents and the Canadians pass out.
2) ...currently feels like the only adult in her home (how sad is that?!).
3) ...is bumming over her speeding ticket.
4) ...had her day brightened by a cynic of all things. *eyebrow arch*
5) ...loves her stuffed werewolf. She named it Virginia. Get it? Virginia WOLF?
6) ...is downloading the Fiddler soundtrack for morning listening.
7) ...is looking forward to spending the day with John, Jayme, and Chris.
8) ...is laughing at the fact that this is the second work day in a row that's been cancelled because of John and mines abscence.
9) ...doesn't like living in her house. But that's a given.
10) ...is deciding what form of artificial fuel will keep her awake tomorrow? Monster, or coffee?

On the other hand, I guess most of my musings can just be positive, considering I'm having a blast working on "It's a Howl". Yeah, it's nice to have a stress-free production thrown in there with the GC stuff, but I can't wait to get back and do that either. :) I find it hard to pick which I like better. But even if I did know which, that would be my little secret alone. ;) I am making a video, Chris, if you're reading.

Whoa, don't I have to be at Hudson's in like six hours?

Good night.

WARNING: RIDICULOUS SELF-ADDRESSING RANT

I have a certain way that I have operated my whole life. Habits, behaviors, and ways of coping that I've had for as long as I can remember. Things that have been hardwired into my system from infancy. Because I am the first born, I get shit on a lot parentally because they've never had a child this age. I myself am confident in my own future, as far as behaviors and attitudes go. I KNOW what I am going to be, my parents don't. They think they're doing their parental duty by telling me things over and over again. There are so many things I wish I could say to them, so many things I wish I could explain, but I will never get that chance, because they are my parents and there is a certain way they think I should interact with them. They want me to keep my room SPIC AND SPAN just because. They say they don't want a lot from me, they say they don't ask a lot, but what they don't get is that they're actually asking A LOT from me just from telling me to keep my room spotless. There are clean people, who can only function under clean pretenses, and then there are messy people. It seems like there's a huge mess to the clean people, but to the messy people, it's fine. They know where everything is because they put it there and they know where it is. The clean people don't think so, but they would never know because they are not a messy person. I've been taught all my life about being flexible and being able to change, but some people just can't change. So, why can't my parents allow me to at least find a happy medium between messy and SPOTLESS? I can't live in SPOTLESS! "How can you live in that pit? Don't you respect yourself?" When did this become a case of respecting myself? I woudn't expose other people to a mess like that. That's why you keep MOST of a house clean. If there are going to be people there, you should keep it clean. that is a sign of respect for the clean people from the messy people. That's a law I'd be willing to abide by. But this is MY SPACE. MINE! No one else is going to be in there except me. If I had friends coming over, I'd tidy up, because the certain friend might be a clean person. What are my parents really afraid of? I mean, really? If we have company coming over, just tell me. I'll tidy up, out of respect for the clean people. If the clean people expect us to adapt for them, then why can't the clean people, just once, realize that the messy people can't always get super-clean cold turkey? It just completely contradicts everything I've supposedly been taught.

I don't think any of this is really about keeping my room clean, because that's all i think of it as. I just think of it as keeping my room clean, or doing the dishes. Simplistic, every day tasks. My parents put these simple tasks on the level of RESPECT FOR YOURSELF AND YOUR PARENTS. Personally, I think my parents could have it a lot worse in terms of children. I'm an excellent daughter. I get good grades as well as being completely enveloped in a Drama program, in which I give %200, as well as keeping up my grades. There are two areas of my life that I don't give %200 in: DOING THE DISHES AND KEEPING MY ROOM CLEAN. My parents want to get mad at me when I can't sweep a floor properly. When I can't do it properly, my dad wants to do this ridiculous thing where he looks at me and asks me if I'm a moron. I'm sorry I can't do regular housework. Usually a mom teaches their kids to do things like that. My mom never taught me the exact science of sweeping a floor or loading a dishwasher. She just expected me to do them. I don't blame her for not teaching me, she was just very busy, working all the time. What I DO blame her for is harping at me when my flawed performance is a result of her actions.

And what kills me is the whole RESPECT FOR THE MESSY thing, when my parents are so wrapped up in being parents and the notion that I should just do whatever they bid without question, just because they're my parents, they forget that maybe I have feelings too, and there are some things that I can't do (like keeping my room SPOTLESS) just because of who I am. They can't respect who I am, they have to make me the way THEY want me to be. That's the only major problem with parenting I have: They want to punch out their idea of what THEY think you should be. They have no respect for who YOU think you should be.

Alright, I'm done.

Nostalgia

My family obligations bind me to doing a lot of things that I really hate doing, like visiting my pretentious grandfather and his new rich wife, when I know that they don't really like me. It turns out that I do like spending time with most of my family, we just never do anything. This is why it puzzles me when my mother gets angry that I'm never home. We're hardly a family-oriented bunch. Why pretend that we are? I'm perfectly fine on my own for the most part (as well as a teenager can do on their own, that is). However, tonight, my family obligations took me back a few years through a children's play. To support my brother, I went to see The Wild Wildest West, where he was playing the lead bad guy, Snidely Dastardly. Nowadays, I realize that Children's Theater is about as soaked with politics as theater programs can get, but back then, it was such a big deal to me. That's where my love of theater was born. I owe half of who I am to stuff that I learned in those days. Watching it tonight, it seemed so small and insignificant compared to what I do at the high school and with Chris, but to most of those kids, it's all they have. I remember when it was all I had, how different I was then. But I think it's all stages of life that get us to where we are. Today, I got to do a lot of thinking, not just about old lifestyles and friends, but of where I am now. Interesting conversations with Chris about boys and marriage kind of had me revisit my own personal romantic pursuits. Nothing's changed, but it led to a few good smiles.

For now, I guess, I'll stick to what I know, and leave the messy world of romance alone. Actually, I'm quite pleased at how much simpler my life is when I don't think about it. Right now, I'm just glad that my brother is so happy in what he's doing, because that will be really important later. He's going to be a freshman after I graduate. I swear, it'll be like I never left.

SHUFFLEBOARD!

To say the very least, my school year sort of came to an anti-climactic end. From there, I plunged head-first into what is currently known as the busiest summer of my life. Between working with small children in a day-camp to irritating members of a cast with my Fran Drescher drone, I can't seem to find a calm moment. I'm still shaky on whether I am complaining or beaming over the fact that I don't have to vegetate in my house like I did last summer and the summer before that. One thing that I have found with working with these new people is that credit is always given where credit is due. To say the least, some of my other endeavors are blatantly thankless, but it's refreshing to be appreciated and valued. There's also that whole thing with breaking a certain mold that I've obviously followed throughout the school year. Of course, with John and Chris, there's hardly a dull moment. With following their blogs, I created my own. I don't know why. They're probably the only ones who will ever really read it. I'm bored with Facebook notes, because you get all kinds of unnecessary comments there. I don't care about your outward, politically fueled reasons why you don't agree with me. Sometimes you just want to talk and hope someone is just listening, you know? You're not looking for advice, you're not looking for counsel. You're just looking for a good chance to rant about what's on your mind, or what irks you most.

And that's why on the eighth day, God created the Internet blog. :)