How do you stay organized?
Submitted by devillibrarian.
That's a very good question. I try to stay organized by grouping things by their similarity. I only keep what I really need and either throw out or recycle the rest.
Living in Paris has taught me to live simply. The film Fight Club also has a lot do with my outlook on life. Tyler says, "The things you own end up owning you." That really got to me. I've stopped blindly spending and have put my money to better use. I only buy what I really need, and when I want something I really think about buying it. In the end, everything here is going to end up in my suitcase or on my back, and I only want to bring home what I really love. I've acquired a detachment from some material things. I'll be happy to bring this back home with me to California, where materialism reigns.
I clean up and organize almost every day, right before I go to sleep. It's been this sort of ritual that gets me ready for sleep. It's nice knowing that everything is in it's place where it should be.
Someone's writing a biography of your life (to date). What is the best/worst chapter of the book?
Submitted by Ross.
Worst chapter: 9th year of high school. Blurg.
Best chapter: second semester of junior year at SFSU. Best time of my life. Felt like I found my niche. I found a mentor in my screenwriting professor and film production professor, made some good friends, and had a blast. And, like all good moments in film, it was short lived.
"It's just a life of pain. And when it's good, it's brief." -- Yasha Aginsky, my former film prof on a life in film. So true.
Audio: Share your karaoke song.
It's such a beautiful day, but I find no happiness in it.
What's great about having this Vox is that I don't have to censor it. Mom has been a devoted reader to the Paris blog. She knows all and everything that's going on with me through that blog. And that's great. I want her to know, but there are things that she shouldn't know. We all keep secrets from our mothers because we want to protect them.
Last night was a really depressing night. I got an email from a former professor asking if I wanted to TA with her and my former TA who is now a teacher. I had a huge crush on this TA. I learned a lot from him. And they wanted me to work with them. They wanted me to help teach kids like myself who knew little to nothing about shooting on film. But I had to say no because I'm in Paris.
And for the first time in a long time I wanted to go home.
I cried after sending her an email telling her that I had to decline the offer. It just felt like saying no to a once in a lifetime opportunity. I mean, I thought she had retired already, there were rumors before I left. And Jason, the old TA, I thought that he was already done with grad school. All this might be true, when I get back for my last year.
Then Nayo called, after I was done crying, and while talking to her, I couldn't help but cry again. I hung up. Then I started to wash my clothes in the sink. I'm trying to save money so I can see some other beautiful places. I wrung all the extra water from my clothes into the sink and hung them on the clothesline that hangs from my door to the far side of the room. I stood under my laundry and felt drops of water fall onto my arms and shoulders and watched drops falling onto the tile floor. I stood there for a while, not moving.
How do you feel about your birthday? Do you look forward to it and remind all your friends, or do you dread it and try to keep it a secret?
Blurg. Total dread. I never really want to celebrate it. My birthday always depresses me 'cuz I look back on all the things I haven't done and now I'm a year older. It's this twice yearly sad state that always comes around like the Nordstrom twice yearly sale. It comes on my birthday and around Christmas. Christmas because I'm never really happy around Christmas and New Year's.
I'll be spending my birthday in Paris this year. We'll see how it goes.
Have you ever done anything out of pure spite? What did you do?
Submitted by Hydranokaori.
I used to work as a receptionist for an insurance company. It lasted a summer before my sophomore year of college. Totally macho workplace, it was disgusting. I got the job because my parents knew one of the insurance guys. I HATED this one accountant. My first day, he looked me up and down, sized me up. I could immediately tell he was one of those douchebag bachelors in his early 30s that goes from one girl to the next. My guess was right, as my time progressed there. He treated me like dirt. I wanted to key his stupid bmw convertible, but I didn't.
I didn't do anything that bad. I took some magnets and office supplies. I love office supplies. When I was cleaning and organizing (they hadn't cleaned in years it seems), I found my deceased aunt's (also my favorite aunt in the world) old files for her car. I took those with me too when I left the job. When I did deposits at the bank, I took my time and even got Jamba juice. Such a crappy job.
Show us a photo of somewhere you want to go.
Phuket, Thailand. It also goes alone with my resolution to lose some pounds and to have the confidence to wear a swimsuit. Someday.
It feels like the boots have been breaking in me.
The leather is really thick and a bit malleable, but it will take time. But, walking in them for about a mile, I could feel it digging into my ankles, on that very bony protrusion that sticks out on my ankle. I don't know what that bone is called.
I came home, and on both of my feet, at exactly the same spot, the skin has been rubbed off, the blood on my socks. I didn't think it'd be so bad. But I expected this, after all they said we'd have to break them in.
And still, I didn't even change my shoes. I kept wearing the boots, even to dinner and then to my friend's house. And with every step, the boot scraped that same part of skin on each foot. And every time I acknowledged the pain, it felt worse. Why do I this to myself? Why do I suffer? For what? To look good? What a stupid reason. But I continued.
After a while, I didn't feel the pain anymore. I mean, the boots were still digging in, but I couldn't feel the pain. And that, for some reason, made me feel really good. It made me feel powerful. The boots themselves made me feel powerful and gave me this confidence that I've never had from something so trite, so small, so unimportant.
With each step, I felt, "This is not pain". This is no longer what pain means to me. A scrape of skin. No, that is not painful. The boots are heavy. And with each step, I could feel all the muscles from my calf up to my outer thigh working, getting stronger. I refused to drag my feet, wear down the heels, the sole. I took steps like a cowboy, determined, ready to draw.
It all felt connected somehow. The boot to the foot to the calf, to the thigh, to my hips and on and upward. And it affected the way I walked, sat, stood, everything it seems. I felt dangerous, dark, mysterious, powerful...stylish. Funny what a pair of boots can do.
What are you most grateful for in your life right now?
Submitted by Becca-Pink.
For my parents who are financing my year abroad, my dream to live in Paris. Who believe in me and my passions. Who hide their fear for me being in a foreign country, living alone. Who hide their fear for my future in film. I know they're scared for me. I know they're scared, but they hide it really well because they don't want me to know, to be afraid and lose focus. I want to succeed for them. I want to pay them back, pay it all back. But...they tell me it's not necessary. That they do this because I'm their daughter, and they love me.
I'm so unbelievably blessed to have them. I love them so much and I tell them that whenever they're on the phone.
Wow, I've never cried this hard since the Keaton epiphany.
Do you have an unusual talent that you are ridiculously proud of? If so, what is it, and why the smug look on your face?
Submitted by mo.
I can be super quiet, like ninja quiet. My roommate would be cooking in the kitchen by the stove, and then I'd go in and just open the fridge door, and she'd yelp and turn around saying, "I didn't hear you at all!" It happens a lot. They don't think I'm at home or in my room, but I'm there. I'm just a quiet person by nature. Maybe I was a ninja in my past life.
