under pressure

They say "a little skipping won't kill you" ... "you can afford to take a day off" ... etc etc - so I'm wondering why I always feel so guilty when I skip out on the gym. Like today, for example. I woke up bright and early (well, 7:30 am is early in my books) in order to hitch a ride to the gym (save myself from a 10 minute walk in the cold) and work out for an hour or two. I got up, ate breakfast, packed my bag ... and then decided I didn't want to go. I had a legitimate reason: laundry. Afterall, Tuesday mornings are my only day off so if I don't do it today, I'll have to wear the same pair of socks for another week. Plus, I have an assignment due in about 6 hours. It's a lot bigger than I made it out to be in my head, so at some point soon I'm going to need to buckle down and do it.

But... it's now 11am and I don't think I've left my bed since re-entering it after breakfast. Besides discovering the world of tumblr, I haven't done a lot. In fact, I've done nothing. I still have to do three, if not four, loads of laundry and write two plays and a short write-up on my experience of it (weird, I know) ... and the worst part of it is, I skipped the gym in order to do those things. I would've been home from the gym over an hour ago and no worse off than I am right now.

I'm getting tired of having to force myself to go to the gym every. single. time. You'd think it would get easier! I mean, once I'm there, I actually do enjoy myself, as hard as that is to believe (for me, especially). I love to run - I never used to, but I do now. And weight lifting... well, it's not the funnest thing on the planet but it feels really good, so that's usually enough to get me through to the end of the routine.

I dunno... maybe it's just the cold weather. It makes me want to cuddle up in a blanket with hot chocolate and a good book and hibernate until spring. Or maybe it's the fact that my house is almost as cold as it is outside! My dad's core temperature has to be 20 degrees above the average person's! I don't think my feet have had a chance to defrost since September... It's getting to be unbearable.

...And now I'm just complaining...

So I'll get back to my original issue. Why do I feel this guilty about missing one day at the gym? Are my stubborn personality and unrealistically high expectations the only thing to blame in this situation? Or is it the fact that everywhere I look I see girls who look the way I want to? And I'm not referring to the Mary-Kate and Ashleys out there. I don't want to look sickly...

See, the thing is - I think, as an aspiring actor (which I still am, despite my one year hiatus), there's more pressure to look a certain way than there is for the average girl. The average girl wants to look 'thin' or whatever because she thinks that's what guys like. But she discovers eventually (I hope) that guys don't want that - most guys can appreciate real beauty in a real girl. An aspiring actor though - well, she knows how hard it is to look a certain way and how many sacrifices it takes to get there (and yes, she understands what airbrushing is); the aspiring actor even knows that her body is perfect just the way it is. But when the aspiring actor is competing with people like Mary-Kate and Ashley, Megan Fox and Natalie Portman, she definitely feels a bit of pressure to level out the playing field as much as possible.

Don't get me wrong - that's not the only reason why I work out, but it's definitely a major player as far as the guilty conscience goes. The main reason for working out is to be healthy. Which I am. I feel amazing these days. Now if only I could find a way to relax a little whenever I have to take a day off. Where do I find the valve that'll ease up on the pressure?

What's really ironic is that a 'campaign' that I worked on about a year ago is about to get into the hands of teenagers all over the States in the form of a magazine called sex, etc. Don't let the name throw you - it's a magazine that discusses all the issues teenagers have to deal with these days. And their focus for Winter 2010: Body Image.

Apparently it's still the fall (even though my frozen feet think otherwise), but when winter rolls around, you can check it out on their website.

I think I'm going to start doing some laundry... and maybe start and finish my assignment so I don't feel like today was a total waste...

Keep it real.

european holidays

Are you of European descent? Well, if you're not, this post may encourage you to claim to be.

I have some European blood flowing through my veins. Mostly German, but I'm told there's a bit of Scottish and British mixed in as well. Regardless, it's the German that holds the most precedence. Especially in this post. (I actually claim my Aussie roots far more often... until December 6th, of course).

My family celebrates Saint Nicholas Day. It's like Christmas but smaller and earlier. But there are gifts involved none the less.

The deal is (for those of you who haven't heard of this awesome day until now), you put a shoe outside of your bedroom door on the night of December the 5th and when you wake up the next morning, your shoe is full of presents! Kinda like this:

It's pretty much the coolest thing ever.

Most of the presents are usually edible, but one year I got the Complete Works of Shakespeare so... it's pretty sweet.

I guess I could have mentioned this earlier... because if any of you want to start up the tradition in your own homes, you'll have to wait a whole year now. I just figured I should tell you about it first before wishing you a happy saint nicholas day... So now that you've been enlightened (or possibly just reminded):

Happy Saint Nicolas Day!

Go buy someone some chocolate... or better - a pair of shoes! :) Oh! And if you want to read up on the why of this holiday... you can look at the wikipedia page about it. I know wikipedia is supposedly a faulty source, but I've learned many an interesting fact by browsing through that website. So there!

Keep it real.

you call yoursuff a movie buff?!

I actually do know how to spell 'yourself' but it just didn't have the same ring to it. But, let's get back to the important issues at hand, shall we?

Movies.

Okay, so maybe I let my definition of important slip a little, but they play a pretty significant role in society these days, so it probably doesn't hurt to pay some attention to them.

On a completely different note (or is it?), I've been watching a lot of this show called 'The Buried Life' recently. You need to watch a quick trailer to find out the basics in a way that doesn't require me to write anything...

Pretty cool, right? They're pretty inspiring - so inspiring, in fact, that I'm feeling a bit inspired.  

Now, I haven't written a bucket list yet, though I've had a few ideas running through my head for years - and, in my defence, I've crossed off a few fun things already; like go skydiving and learn how to be a stunt driver, but there's still lots more I'd love to accomplish or experience before I die. I also love helping other people realize some of their goals and dreams and I'm planning on making that a part of my life too (however that looks)... But as far as good, wholesome fun goes - I've decided to make a Movie bucket list.

Now it's all coming together, right? Me mentioning the movies at the beginning and then randomly changing the topic -- you get the picture.

What brought this on? Well, I'm tired of claiming to be a movie buff and then knowing diddly-squat about all of the important movies of the century.

So I made a list of 50 movies I'd like to see before I die. I typed it up and printed it off - thus the adventure has begun... well, it will begin as soon as I put the first dvd in my dvd player.

I don't know how long this'll take, but starting is the first step, right?

I was thinking I'd write the list down in this blog post, but that would make this a pretty long blog post, wouldn't it? So I've decided to make you a collage. Of movies. It's not all the movies on my list, but it's still cool looking. I can post the list later... if needed.

I never said it would be a work of art - geez! Gimme a break!

...

Well, that's all for now. I borrowed Rain Man and The Royal Tennenbaums from the public library (they're on my list), so hopefully I'll cross two off my list within the week.

Might I recommend giving The Buried Life a watch? Check out season 2 online at mtv.ca... or just click here!! (I finally discovered how to add links to my page in that super cool way that makes you look like you understand technology... yay!)

So - what do you want to do before you die?

Keep it real!

weekend wars

I'm not actually going to talk about MGMT, the band my post's title is an obvious reference to... but I am going to talk about the battles I've faced this weekend.

That sounds more exciting than it actually was.

On Saturday morning I woke up with a jolt upon remembering the fact that I have a presentation on Wednesday that I still haven't started. So instead of spending my Saturday morning leisurely watching Christmas movies (I don't care if everyone thinks it's too early), I was jumping into the ol' minivan (aka the bane of my existence) and driving to the Mississauga Central Library.

It wasn't until I reached the library that the first interesting development of my morning took place. I was searching the library's online catalogue for anything and everything discussing Emily Dickinson (the topic of my presentation) and stumbled upon the name Christopher Benfey. I'd heard the name before - my grandpa likes to mention him whenever we discuss my budding career in writing. He's a published author and relative of mine who seems to be obsessed with Emily Dickinson. Bonus for me. Oh wait - no it's not. 'Cuz he lives in the States far away and my presentation is in three days! So I can't really pump him for information in between ice breakers, all over the course of about a day and a half...

When I left the library, I decided to make a quick stop in Chapters (because I was in a booky mood... even though I've sworn off buying stuff again - this time my reasoning is that Christmas is just around the corner, so going on a shopping spree is probably the worst idea on the planet... Take note friends, because I don't want to get you an awesome Christmas present only to find out you bought it for yourself last week... but enough on this tangent).

So I was in Chapters and happened to buy a Christmas present or two for friends while I was in there, but mostly what I ended up doing was wallowing in self-pity. On the bright side though, I learned a very valuable lesson: when you're an aspiring author, stay the hell away from all book stores and libraries because all they do is serve as a reminder of how many people get to do what you can only dream of. This also used to happen whenever I stepped into a Blockbuster or left a movie theatre, but those experiences have finally lost their sting.

Anywho, now it's Sunday afternoon and I should probably be working on that Emily Dickinson project or one of my other school assignments, but instead I find myself blogging about my feelings. Ha!

...I don't know where that sarcasm came from... I should probably have a nap or something...

I wanted to go to the gym but there's no car in the driveway and even though I used to make fun of people who drive to the gym, I find myself embracing my double standards because it's cold outside. That's enough to keep me indoors, thank you very much.

I want a car.

This car, in particular:

But, until then I guess I'll just walk to the gym in the freezing cold... or do something productive, like homework...

Either way, I'll leave you alone now.

Keep it real!

hallelujah! ...almost

I've been up for almost 24 hours... I had a nap from 1 to 3 am this morning, so I guess I didn't actually pull an all-nighter.

I was writing an essay for my Anglo-Saxon Lit class and I just finished in half an hour ago.

Hallelujah!!

But I still have a few more assignments due before the end of the semester...

(Hence the almost.)

Still, the Hallelujah Chorus keeps running through my head.

It may have something to do with the youtube video my mom showed me this morning when I was three quarters of the way done my essay...

Check it out!

It helped me stay awake for the last few hours it took to finish my essay. I'm thinking Red Bull is what'll keep me awake for the rest of the day.

Have a good one!

And keep it real.

six weeks?!

I was just reading up on the few (ten) literary agencies I sent my query letter to and most of them say it will take up to six weeks before they get back to me.

Six weeks!

It'll practically be the new year before I find out whether or not anyone wants to represent my book. Represent, not publish. It'll take another few months for that ball to get rolling.

This is going to take longer than I thought.

I don't know if I'll be able to take all this waiting. I've only just mailed out the letters and I'm already losing sleep. As Sebastian the Crab would say, "my nerves are shot!"

What did I get myself into?

...Keep it real.

life as an aspiring author

I had a few crazy ideas recently and I figured blogging about them is the best thing to do...

Idea #1: Try to publish a book...

Wait, scratch that.

Idea #1: Write a book;

Idea #2: Try to publish said book;

Idea #3 (and most relevant to this post): Blog about the process.

So, here I go (for anyone interested).

I wrote a book. The working title is Broken Silence and it's about a girl who finds out her step-brother is a crime lord... Weird, I know. I have no idea why this was the story just waiting to flow from my mind to paper, but it was. Anywho, the book is finally finished (a friend of mine is still editing it, but I actually finished writing it, so that's what I mean when I say finished) and now the less fun times come: trying to get it published.

I'm a little worried about bringing people along for the ride only because I'm not sure how long it'll last. Who knows? Maybe no one will want to publish it and then where would I be? ...But I haven't gotten to that part of the process yet, so I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Tomorrow, instead of doing homework, I will be mailing out my query letter to ten different literary agents in the Toronto area. A query letter (for anyone who doesn't know - much like me only a month ago) is sort of like the back cover of your book plus a little bit about yourself as an author and/or person. It's supposed to get the agent interested enough in your book to ask for the first three chapters. It has to be a page tops. I think it's safe to say my query letter was the hardest thing I've ever written. I had to condense 256 pages (107,000 words) into three very short paragraphs. Somehow I managed. And tomorrow I'll mail it out.

And then I'll wait.

Super exciting, right?

If, by some miracle, my query letter peeks an agent's interest, they will then ask me for the first few chapters of the book. If the agent likes these first few chapters, they will then ask for my entire manuscript. Finally, if they like my book as a whole, they will agree to represent me to publishers. And then the process begins all over again, but this time around I'll have help.

Apparently Stephanie Meyer (author of Twilight - don't ask me why I know so much about that book) went from first draft to books on shelves within six months - the bad writing is proof. Still, her process was crazy short, but there's no telling how long mine will be.

But it all begins with the mailing of the query letters. So my publishing journey begins tomorrow morning. I'll keep you posted and let you know how mine turns out.

Keep it real!

Hardwicke Hardships

On Wednesday night my world shattered.

...Okay, well maybe it didn't shatter... but it definitely cracked.

I was perusing the internet like I usually do when I'm in a class that allows computers and decided it was time to check up on my old pal, Emile Hirsch (and by old pal I mean I wish he knew I existed... but he's a great actor nonetheless). So I was checking on him and discovered he was set to star in an upcoming remake of Hamlet which I was immediately skeptical of. He's going up against the likes of Sir Lawrence Olivier. No one wants to be compared to that.

Regardless, I wanted to see who was crazy enough to direct such a difficult piece and my heart (I'm pretty sure) stopped beating when I saw the name: Catherine Hardwicke.

You may not recognize that name, but I do. Unfortunately.

She was the director of Twilight: the worst movie ever made (well... that and The Happening).

If you were to ask me who my favorite director was, I wouldn't be able to tell you because there are too many. But ask me who my least favorite is and that's Catherine Hardwicke. Hands down.

Now, don't get me wrong here - I'm not blaming the story of Twilight on Hardwicke. Obviously she had nothing to do with that part of the monstrosity that is the phenomenon. But the movie itself, everything about it screams poor direction. That mixed with the fact that I've watched the commentary (I do that with tons of movies, not just bad ones - don't judge me) which gives one an inside look into the poorly thought out choices and ridiculous days on set when no one knew what was going on...

Just bad all around.

But the fact that she will destroy - I mean direct - Hamlet wasn't even the most world-shattering part of my evening. It gets oh-so-much worse.

For a brief moment I felt perhaps I was being too hard on Hardwicke. I mean, she made one horrible movie, but she also directed Lords of Dogtown which I've heard a few good things about. With only these two movies (and Thirteen, but I haven't seen that one either) to go on, it was hardly fair to judge her so harshly so I decided to look at her resume.

She's been a production designer on almost twenty films and has directed four (not including Hamlet or the other two that are listed as in production).

I'd known three of her four credits and the fourth one was the shocker.

She directed The Nativity Story. The director whom I've referred to for years as the one that can do no right - she directed one of my favorite movies of all time. A movie I thought to be incredibly well done. I adore The Nativity Story.

Crash!

(That was the sound of my world on Wednesday night.)

I actually feel like my world has flipped on its head. Right is wrong, left is right... and bad does good. What is going on?

I can't even conclude this blog. I can't end it with something like, "And now I like Catherine Hardwicke." All I can do is stare blankly at the screen (much like I did when I first discovered this life...well, perspective altering fact) and go, "uhhhhhhhh......."

When will this news stop making my brain hurt? I no longer know what to think...

"uhhhhhhhhhh.........."

Keep it real?