State of affairs 9-3-12

Wow.
Okay.
I really don't even know where to start. This weekend has been such an  insane mass of emotions that I that I haven't even bothered to sit down and sort through them. I'm now less than six weeks away from my wedding and while the marriage part doesn't make me the least bit nervous, the wedding itself is totally stressing me out.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about.
What I wanted to talk about was friends. Particularly, best friends. Specifically, people who were once your best friends and are now not even remotely part of your life.
Throughout high school I had three best friends. The same three best friends for the entirety of highschool, with a rotating cast of characters as our extended friendship circle. This continued through my first two years of college. These were the people who were there for me when I went through some of my hardest experiences. My first heart break, the everyday stress of school, even the death of my father. Depending on where I was in my life sometimes I would be closer to one friend than the other. In short, these three people pretty much were my entire life from the time I was fifteen until I was twenty. It's to the point that I have only a handful of memories from that time period that don't contain all three of them, much less at least one of them.
A little under three years ago I got engaged. I got engaged to the boy I had dated all through high school. The boy these friends knew. I stopped wanted to "go out". I'm not a very social person. I don't like crowds or staying up late or many of the things that normal twenty year olds are wont to do. The only reason I had been doing those things was because my relationship was in shambles and I had to do those things in order to not sit at home and be depressed. So once I was engaged I didn't want to do those things anymore. The problem was, that was really the only thing that those friends ever did. At first they always invited me. And I hated doing it, but I always said no. Then, they only invited me sometimes. I sensed that they were starting to resent me and so I talked to one of them- the one that I considered my best friend. The person who I had once been able to tell anything to. The person who I went with to get my first tattoo who had a matching one on her own hip. I told her that it wasn't that I didn't want to see them. It was that I didn't want to go to clubs and get drunk. She understood. She said that the only reason that was what they did was because of work schedules. She said she felt bad because she knew that I didn't like doing that stuff so they didn't always tell me because they knew I wouldn't want to go. I told her that anytime they did anything earlier than ten at night to tell me, because I would go. They were still my best friends and I still wanted to spend time with them.
Gradually, we stop texting and talking as much. Now they don't ever bother to invite me out. Then they start doing other stuff, like going to dinner or seeing movies, and don't bother to invite me to those either.
I talked to one friend about it, because I felt like she would be the only one who wouldn't get defensive and who would understand where I was coming from. Thankfully, she did. I had become really angry in that time frame and felt like they had just completely cut me out of their lives. Any time I did see them it felt awkward and forced because they were still best friends and I was suddenly an interloper. But this one friend, the one who I trusted to come to with my problems, assured me that this wasn't intentional. Everybody was just growing apart. She felt it to, but it wasn't just specifically me.
I didn't want to grow apart. These people had been such a big part of my life for so long that growing apart from them meant growing apart from all of those memories. I tried. I invited them to Vegas and paid for the hotel rooms. I made plans for us to spend New Years Eve together. I spent two full years trying and none of it made any difference. Once, when we all went to dinner, that friend that had once been my best friend (and who I had told would be my maid of honor when I first got engaged) got really drunk. She alluded to the fact that I thought I was better than them because I was engaged and I spent all my time at home. Which wasn't true but it's not like you can reason with a plastered person.
So that was the end of 2011. After New Years failed to change anything about the state of the friendship, I finally decided to give up. Except for that one friend who I had talked about it all with. Because she had started to feel the same way. She was in a stable relationship and ready to become an adult and it was driving a wedge between her and the other two.
So we got closer. When I decided in March of this year to get married I had to make a decision about my bridal party. Obviously those two people who had cut me out of their lives and didn't seem to give a shit about me didn't need to be in my bridal party. I needed people who were in my life to be in my bridal party. So, the one friend who I was still close to was part of my wedding but the other two weren't.
So all of that happened. Since then, there have been a few failed attempts for all of us to hang out. I felt awkward. I had never directly addressed the issue with them despite it having gone on for two and a half years, so I couldn't really explain to them why I hadn't invited them to be part of my wedding. But I did invite them to my shower and planned to invite them to the wedding. After all, they had been such a huge part of my life for so long. I understood that we had grown apart.
Fast forward to the weekend of my bridal shower. Three days ago. One of these friends  (not the one that had once been my best friend) decides to post the lyrics to Brand New's "Mixtape" on facebook and tag me with the caption "I'm calling you out, bro". The lyrics are I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic but when I say let's keep in touch I really mean I wish that you'd grow up. This is the first song for your mixtape and it's short just like your temper. Somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got too cool. 
Brand New was particularly important to all of us. In fact, Brand New was the band that had originally started the friendship between me and this friend. So, needless to say, I was pissed. I untagged myself in the picture, deleted her as a friend, and messaged her. Basically I said I was done. I had spent three years trying to chase after a friendship and I was tired of it. She could deal with whatever made up issues she had with me anyway she wanted to.
She responds that she had no issues with me. She had nothing with me. No friendship, no effort. Also... that I was blind to the whole situation.
There are a lot of things that I could have said. I could have said that this had been going on for three years and now all of a sudden it's an issue with her... yet somehow I was the blind one? I could have said that telling me to grow up by tagging me in a song on facebook was the exact definition of irony. I could have said that she was right. There was no effort because I had given up on the friendship over a year ago. But the whole thing made me realize something.
I didn't care.
I'm the type of person that always needs to have the last word. I need to win a fight. I don't know if its a self esteem issue or what, but I've always needed to be the one to have the last word. I didn't in this occasion. I just deleted the message and moved on with my life. The only thing that upset me about it was that by acting like a dick she had tainted all that time we had been friends. Now, instead of looking back on that time with happy memories I'll just see this asshole that I was friends with for so long.
Saturday night, the night before my bridal shower, the other friend- the one who had been my best friend- texts me. Keep in mind that the two of them are still incredibly close. And they're still close with the friend that is in my bridal party. She texts me to ask me if she should go to the shower (she had originally planned to go) which, you know, I get. Things would be awkward now. But then, she adds that she has some of the same concerns as the other friend. But she doesn't want it to seem like she's choosing sides.
But the sides have been chosen. The sides were chosen three years ago. And the fact that they want to chose one of the most important weekends of my life to deal with this proves how selfish and out of touch they are. So I tell her to do whatever she wants. I'm not going to deal with it. And I cry myself to sleep.

Now I've gotten about a day to get perspective on it but I don't really feel any different. I'll always miss the friendship that had gotten me through so many tough times, but there is zero emotion left in me to mourn it. I've literally spent three years crying and being upset about it. So now that all-of-a-sudden they give a shit I'm supposed to bow down to them? No. I'm moving on with my life. I'm moving on with the people that give a shit about me not just themselves. I'm starting the rest of my life with the boy I love with three amazing bridesmaids and amazing friends.

I'm done with the friendship. Done with all of it.

State of Affairs:5-5-2012

Holy shit. It's May fifth. Where did this semester go?
The good news is that I've actually kept up with all of my classes this semester and (if all goes according to plan) I'll have my associates degree by the end of the summer and my bachelor's degree by next summer. Just two years late, not so bad. I also might get a promotion to lead teacher at work. I feel mixed about it. I want the promotion because of the money, and the fact that I think I deserve it. I know that sounds completely self-absorbed. But here's the thing. I've been at my job for two years. I've only called in three times and one of those times was because I had to take my mother to the emergency room. I'm never late. I've never had a complaint from a parent or co-worker. Anything they ask me to do I do. I've been flexible, respectful, and I'm good at my job. Very rarely do I ever admit to being good at anything. In fact, before this job, the only thing I would ever admit to being good at was writing. (Now I wouldn't even necessarily admit to that...) But I am good at my job. I'm good at my job not because I'm better than anyone else, but because I care. Because I go into work and enjoy what I do and I love those kids and I love my coworkers and I want to make a good impression on my parents and my coworkers. I want people to know how much I care about my job because I really do love my job. Two years in and I still love it. That has to say something.
I've pretty much been flying under the radar of my boss the entire time I've worked there. I've even had her apologize for being a dick to me once (which she almost never does). So when I found out that the lead teacher whose spot I'm filling in for isn't coming back, I wasn't sure what the outcome of that was going to be. Last summer when my lead teacher left I didn't even consider the option that they would give it to me (even though I knew that I could have done the job, I was aware that they didn't really know what I was capable of and also I wasn't close to getting my degree). I thought that the initiative I showed while we didn't have a lead teacher (I did basically all of the lead teacher duties) went unnoticed. Now I'm thinking maybe they didn't. Now that I'm in the baby room my assistant director (who is pretty much the eyes and ears of the center) works with me a lot more. She never says anything about my work but the fact that she was the first one to suggest I get the lead teacher position makes me feel good. I completely respect my assistant director. She used to be the lead teacher in the infant room and I know that she cares a lot about that room. Her best friend at the center is the one who's spot I'm filling. My first spot of recognition I felt was when they moved me to the infant room and the Toddler one lead teacher argued with her about it and she said "the infant room is more important". It made me feel like they finally appreciated all the hard work I had been doing over the last two years.
So now my director hasn't actually said anything official, but at my evaluation she said "i wouldn't have a problem giving the position to you" which is basically the highest form of praise I'm ever going to get out of that woman. It's the most appreciated I've ever felt at my job. My toddler one lead teacher is upset because she wants me back in her room, but the infant room teachers are happy because they want me to stay. It feels really good. I hate to admit it, but I am one of those people who needs at least a minimal amount of recognition for my hard work. I had never stopped trying at my job despite the lack of this. It's not really a job where you can do the bare minimum, because there are kids involved (although, you'd be surprised at how many teachers at our center manage it), but I had pretty much given up on any kind of forward movement. Now that it's a possibility, I'm a little scared. It's a lot of responsibility. A lot of social interaction that I'm not looking forward to.  But I've got to jump into the world at some point, right?

Except from "The Straw People"

 

We went back into her house and started on our project. We waited until her parents went to sleep and went back to the shed. “I think I'm going to name him Eric,” she said.

“Why Eric?” I asked.

“I don't know. He just looks like an Eric.” She pushed open the door and the first thing we saw was that the bowl of water was empty but all of the chicken was still there. It hadn't been touched. And Eric was nowhere to be seen. Presley stepped into the shed and started to look around.

“Eric,” she whispered as though the dog already knew his name even though she had just thought of it. She overturned boxes and looked through bins like he could have somehow crawled inside one. All I did was turn to my right and I found him. He was curled up on the seat of her dad's riding lawnmower and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how he had gotten up there.

“Presley,” I said. “He isn't breathing.”

Presley rushed over to him and put her hand on his back just to make sure. He wasn't. Eric was dead. She didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't know what the appropriate level of emotion was for the situation. We hadn't known Eric long enough for him to make an impact on our lives. But he had lived a sad and unloved life and that was tragedy enough. I walked over to Presley and stood next to her.

She had her chin resting against her chest and tears were running down her face. “He just needed someone to care about him,” she said. “Just for one day he wanted to feel loved. Then he could die in peace.”

“Well, it's a good thing he chose you,” I said. Presley wiped her face.

“We need to give him a proper burial,” she said. So we did. We dug a hole behind her shed and buried Eric in it and she made a headstone with a permanent marker and a large rock we found. It read Eric ?-2003 he finally found love. I don't think her parents ever found out it was there. It's probably still there. Presley would periodically begin to cry over the next two weeks about Eric. She would ask me why I thought he didn't eat the chicken or why he felt the need to die on her dad's lawnmower. She told me that every time her dad mowed the lawn she felt nervous because now it had the curse of death on it and she really was scared that there would be a freak accident and her dad would die and wasn't that a terrible way to die? In a freak riding lawnmower accident?

State of affairs 3-16-2012

So I haven't updated here in a while. Probably because I've been too busy watching Supernatural and writing fanfiction. But other than that, life has been strange lately. I'm finally getting used to life in the baby room. I still miss my old class but I'm starting to bond with my new kids. I'm only taking twelve hours and they're online at Vista so class is massively easy. Other than that...

Before 2012 I had never met any celebrities, much less celebrities that I actually gave a shit about. And between January 28th and March 10th, I met five. Five celebrities that I actually give a shit about.
Evan Peters.
Ryan Buell.
Frank Turner.
Chris Pontius.
Johnny Knoville.
Let me share something with you:

 I MET FUCKING JOHNNY KNOXVILLE. LIKE SERIOUSLY WTF. My longest standing celebrity crush. Literally the one celebrity I would want to meet above all others. Because love and I decided to be spontaneous and drive to Austin to try and find him. It wasn't an ideal situation because he was being rushed and we didn't get to tell him how much he meant to us or show him our tattoos, but still. 

I don't know what this means. I want to think that it means things are headed in a good direction for me this year. Like maybe this is the year. I bought my camera and love and I are already on our way to filming more. I've written a script for a short and I'm working on a script for a feature that we could film this summer. To be completely honest my brain in sort of fried at this point. I'm trying not to over analyze everything (or anything) but it's hard. I just want some sort of direction.
I know that I'm meant to be a writer. It's the only thing that makes sense to me. But what I don't know is how to get there. What road should I take? I sort of just want to throw my hands up and say "fuck it" but I can't. It means too much.

I hope that this feeling I have isn't just blue balls from the universe. Because that would suck massively.

State of affairs 2-5-2012

Even though no one reads this blog, i like having the outlet.
I finished the found footage script (first draft anyway) and I like the way it turned out. I'm still not sure if it's actually "horror" but if it ends up being good enough to submit to festivals that's probably what genre I would submit it under. I'm buying a camera with my tax return and fully intend to force my friends to film on at least a bi-weekly basis so that I have footage to learn final cut. I should probably buy a book or something to teach myself.
For some reason I have this feeling of hope within me. I don't know what it is exactly. I don't know what caused it (it could be the first major exciting thing to happen in my life- actually meeting one of my celebrity crushes) but I'm enjoying it. It gives me inspiration. Instead of feeling frustrated with the lack of any headway I've managed to make in my life I feel hope that I'm eventually going to end up where I need to be. Truth be told, I always imagined that I'd have my shit together by the time I was 23. That's not going to happen. Although I think mentally I'm pretty much there. I've finally gotten to a place in my life where I know who I am and I'm happy with who that person is. I can honestly say I have confidence in myself as a person, which is not something I ever thought would happen. I think it might be the adderall, if I'm being completely honest. It's allowed me to be productive like I've never been before. It's strange, adderall has gotten kind of a street-drug rap because of all the recreational use, but it's helped me so much. It's allowed me to be the functional person that I've always known I could be. I still struggle with severe social anxiety, but that's something that a pill will never fix. The general anxiety (which occasionally pops up now and then) seems to have abated to a minor nuisance.
So here's to 2012 (we're already one month in-how did that happen?) and I'm looking forward to the year ahead.

Candace's favorite things : Film/ Directors/ Actors

all time favorite films

once again, i'll probably come back and elaborate on this later.

FILMS:
10. West Side Story
9. The Sound of Music
8. E.T.
7. SLC Punk!
6. Annie Hall
5. Ghost World
4. The Social Network
3. American History X
2. The Shining
1. Trainspotting

DIRECTORS:
1. Stanley Kubrick
2. Danny Boyle
3.Woody Allen
4. Edgar Wright
5. David Fincher

ACTORS: 
1. Steve Buscemi
2. Brad Renfro (RIP)
3. Andrew Garfield
4. John C. Reily
5. Emile Hirsch

ACTRESSES :
1. Tilda Swinton
2. Kate Winslet
3. Emma Stone
4. Jenna Malone
5. Jessica Chastain

rainymood.com, coffee, and my laptop to write are really the only material things i can't live without. everything else is just icing on the cake :]

Excerpt from "The Straw People"

The second big tragedy of my life happened on a Tuesday, which is an even more inconsiderate day for a tragedy to happen. Tuesdays were my counseling session days. I noticed that Grim wasn't there when I arrived outside of Mrs. Simpson's office. I didn't think too much of it. He could have been sick, or he could have just skipped that day. It wasn't the first time he hadn't been there. There was no grand feeling in my gut that something was wrong. At least not until Mrs. Simpson opened the door to her office and stepped out.

Her face was blotchy and red like she had been crying. She held a tissue in her hand and had her sweater wrapped tightly around her. “Come in, Monroe,” she said.

I wanted to say no. I didn't know what was wrong but I knew immediately that I didn't want to go into that office. If I stayed sitting in the chair for the rest of eternity then I never had to know the reason why she was crying and I could live my life in peace.

I didn't say no. I stood up and walked past her and took my usual seat in front of her desk. She closed the door and sat down and stared at her hands for a good while. I felt out of place. I was interrupting something personal. “Should I go?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It's about James.”

“James?” I didn't know anyone named James.

“Grim.”

I smiled despite the situation. I could not wrap my head around the idea that Grim's name had actually been James. The look that she gave me killed my smile rather quickly. “What about Grim?”

“Last night, James took his own life.”

I had the feeling that she had rehearsed that line a thousand times and it still hadn't come out the way she'd hoped it would. I pictured her standing in front of a mirror reciting the information. I needed to. I needed to think about anything other than what she had just said to me. Grim was dead.

The floor fell out from under me. I expected my chair to plummet all the way down to the center of the earth and burst into flames. I was so sure that this would happen that I gripped the sides of the chair until my knuckles turned white. “No,” was all that I could manage to say. Mrs. Simpson nodded.

“I'm very sorry to have to be the one to deliver this news to you,” she said. It felt like a cheap thing to say.

“Can I skip the rest of our meeting?” I asked.

She seemed reluctant. She didn't want to let an unstable fifteen year old walk out after hearing such tragic news, but I don't think she was aware of how close Grim and I actually were. She didn't know that my body had suddenly gone hollow and the room was spinning and I wasn't even sure if I would be able to stand.

Best of 2011 Series: Film

I'm going to go back and elaborate on/review most of these films later. I just want to get them down and organize my thoughts. In general, 2011 was a shitty shitty year for film. My theory is that 2010 was such an amazing year that no one even bothered in 2011. As it was, it was actually pretty hard for me to compile a top ten list. As I write this list I have not seen Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene or Drive, or Beginners, or The Artist (I don't know that I'll ever see The Artist - just doesn't appeal to me) or Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy or Shame, or A Separation or We Need to Talk about Kevin (Damn, I need to get on this) so this may be edited later.

10. Cedar Rapids
9. The Decedents
8. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2
7. Win Win
6. Rango
5.Submarine
4. Melancholia
3. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
2. Midnight in Paris
1. Take Shelter

Best of 2011 Series: Albums/ Songs

I rarely ever get introduced to new bands. So oftentimes when I do a "best of" list, it only includes the bands I've already been in love with that released new albums. That's pretty much going to be the case this year too. I'm only doing a top six (why six? because five feels like too few). Then I'm doing a top five songs of the year. So here it goes.

ALBUMS:

6. England Keep my Bones by Frank Turner
Not as good as Love Ire & Song, but still.

5. Rome by Danger Mouse and Danielle Luppi

4.Watch the Throne by Jay Z and Kanye West

3. Camp by Childish Gambino
Lived up to the hype. Just saying.

2. Major/Minor by Thrice
Alex's favorite band has now become one of my favorite bands. Thrice is the perfect combination of lyrical maturity and musical angst. Thrice's music creates emotions in you. And they're live shows are fucking amazing.

1. The People's Key by Bright Eyes
Bright Eyes released an album this year and I was a little bit worried because it's been a while and I'm not a huge fan of Conor's second solo album or the Monsters of Folk stuff. BUT it was Bright Eyes in true form. And I got to see them live and cross that off of my bucket list. Seeing them live is easily going down as one of the greatest experiences of my life.

SONGS

5.Cataracts by Thrice (WHAT? ANOTHER thrice song? Why, yes. They're just that damn good.)

4. Niggas in Paris by Jay Z and Kanye West

3.Ladder Song by Bright Eyes

2.Backpackers by Childish Gambino (one of the best hip-hop songs I've heard in years)

 1. Treading Paper by Thrice.

On why I am a Gambino Girl

I use this picture too much. I just really like the hard-lived, world-weary thing I have going on. But I'm posting it during this entry for one specific reason: the Gamino Girl bracelet.

I became obsessed with Community during the first season, obsessed with Donald Glover about a year after, and came completely late to the game by only becoming obsessed with Childish Gambino some time in early 2011. I've always been a hip-hop fan. In fact, hip-hop was the first genre I ever attached myself to; back when I was in elementary school wearing shrimp earrings and using the word "dawg" un-ironically. So it's no stretch of the imagination to believe that when I came across Gambino's mixtapes I was an immediate fan. But as I got deeper and deeper into his discography, and especially once he released 'Camp', I realized just how much I love Gambino. I could listen to the same songs over and over again and never get tired of them. It's only recently that I'm realizing why I took to Gambino's music so fiercely. He is the first artist (and I mean all genres of music) that I've felt I can genuinely relate to.

I can hear people rolling their eyes at me. Allow me to elaborate. In some of his older stuff (but particularly on Camp) he talks a lot about growing up in the ghetto but never feeling like he fit in. He talks about being at odds with "black culture" and "rap culture" but the separation being unintentional. Family members resent him and his family for the success he has achieved. In "Outside" he talks about a cousin who he used to be really close to but the bond has faded and that is in part due to not only the functionality of his own family but his success in Hollywood. These are the things I can relate to.

The majority of my extended family is poor. Both of my parents grew up below the poverty level and worked their way out so that when I was growing up I was able to go to private school and have nice things. My family members resented me for it. Not all of them, but particularly my dad's side of the family. I felt out of place. I felt guilty for the money we had. (We were middle class, not exactly rich but when most of your family is on welfare it's a pretty big separation). The majority of the friends (read: all) I made were also poor. This was a trend that continued through high school. I didn't intentionally seek out friends who didn't have money, it just kind of ended up that way. I was "ghetto". I had friends in "gangs". I used to spend weekends with my best friend in middle school who lived in the courts, rather than at my own house. My own brother was in a gang. Our house got shot up when I was in first grade.

Now that I'm older I still don't really know what to make of all of it. I grew up in a "ghetto" part of San Antonio, but now I live in pretty much the country. I'm at odds with Mexican culture here in San Antonio (because the Mexican culture here is not Mexican culture in general). I feel a part of it but also I feel like an outsider. Like I don't really belong anywhere. I feel like this is part of what Childish Gambino talks about. He isn't "black" enough, but he's still too "black" to be part of any other culture. It's like that.

And that about sums it up for me.  "Outside" says it pretty well.

State of Affairs 1-16-2012

So things are kind of at a weird place right now.
Wedding is kind of postponed indefinitely for reasons of money & also reasons of candace-gets-way-too-overwhelmed-and-can't-deal-with-planning-things. I'm trying to focus on other aspects of my life. It's hard when you don't really know what it is that you want out of life. Do I do the smart/easy thing? Do I "follow my dreams" and potentially get myself deep into student loan debt and for what? The odds that I ever actually make it as a writer/director are so low that I can't even fathom them. But what's the alternative? I can't think of a single "normal" job that I would be happy doing for the rest of my life. I want to be a writer in some shape or form, but I've fucked up my college transcript so badly that going that route via college is kind of out of the question.
I'm working on a script that I really want to film this summer. I tried the whole "making a movie" thing before and it was a grand disaster. BUT, I have a lot more planning now, I know the mistakes I made last time, and I have a leading actress that I know can pull it off. Writing-wise, I know I have the talent to do this. I can't say very many positive things about myself, but I can say that I know I'm a good writer. It's just a matter of making it known that I'm a good writer. Of "honing in" on my as-of-yet non-existent sills as a director.


Maybe Vegas will help me clear my head. Doubt it, but it's worth a shot. I just sort of feel like I've been in a fog lately. Since Christmas time has just been kind of flying by me and I'm just standing still, not getting anything accomplished. I will do this. I will make it. I have to.

So this will be my blog.

I'm not quite sure what direction it's going to go. I think it's going to chronicle this semester, in which I plan to make a lot of changes in my life. Working on a script that I hope to shoot this summer, saving money, finishing my associate's degree, ect. ect. I'll talk about film, television, books, music, my life, my friends, and anything else in between.

It might be interesting... it probably won't be.