I mean, there are places to see, people to meet, photos to take and careers to contemplate. And so much more!
(Note: these pictures have zero to do with said town. I stupidly did not take any photos there...)
Thursday, September 30, 2010
aching for... something
Sometimes, the moments right here right now just don't content me.
I mean, there are places to see, people to meet, photos to take and careers to contemplate. And so much more!
There is a world out there, and it is waiting for me!
It is days like these that make me wish for the future in 5, 10, 15 years. Going to college. Having a job. Being an author, a teacher, a mayor of a small town, a vet tech, a dog trainer, a diner owner, a photographer, or maybe even something else. Getting married. And one day, hopefully, having kids.
I have all these dreams, all these ideas, that cannot be fulfilled in the cream colored suburban house with a tiny backyard in a city named for onions. I'm sure many girls wish to live where I live. But I wish to live somewhere else. Somewhere rural.
That's why I love road trips oh so much. Seeing all these houses and imagining the lives of the people who do call them home. Imagining myself in their place. Wild dreams. Hopeful dreams.
Even déjà vu sort of dreams, like driving through small towns and feeling as though you have been here before and as if you will one day be back.
That's exactly how I felt driving through a particularly charming town in rural New York state. The countryside outside of the town was so pleasant, and then I felt oddly as though I've been there before.
Maybe even as though I'd be there again someday.
Who knows? I just might.
(Note: these pictures have zero to do with said town. I stupidly did not take any photos there...)
I mean, there are places to see, people to meet, photos to take and careers to contemplate. And so much more!
(Note: these pictures have zero to do with said town. I stupidly did not take any photos there...)
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Eventful
I had a very eventful Sunday that left my foot in a splint.
It all started in a picnic for my polish language school, which Mimi and I attended. We had just finished wandering the woods and attempting to film segments of our horror film (which went utterly horribly, by the way) and went to the open field where everyone was playing Dwa Ognie (literally two fires- it is a Polish kind of dodgeball). We began to play and I, having just been hit by a ball, went to the end of the field to help gather balls. I stepped in a hole, twisted up my left ankle, and limped back to the edge of the playing field, expecting the pain to subside in a minute or two. Whenever I twisted my ankle before, it was never serious at all and the pain stopped quickly. Part of me knew this twist was worse. It's hard to explain exactly how I knew. The twist seemed like, I don't know, five two-minute twists. I sat down, and my mother came over. Then Mimi got hit by a ball and she was out and came next to me too. So we sat there a little longer and I eventually got carried to the car, partway by a 'chair' made by my mom and Mimi. We went home. After an hour or two we dropped Mimi off and headed to the emergency room.
I got an x-ray done and this is what I understood is wrong with me. The bone isn't broken or fractured, but because I'm still growing this growth-thing-a-majig may be broken and it won't show. So after a few days I'll have to go see an orthopedist to see if it was a fracture as they can only tell if it's fractured once it starts healing. Because of this they treat it as a fracture and I got a neat splint done on my left foot. The splint reaches up to my knee. I also got a pair of crutches, and although the doctor said I could go to school tomorrow my mother said I shouldn't until I learn how to properly walk on crutches. It doesn't hurt too much; just mostly feels uncomfortable with a slight pain.
For some reason I can't upload the photo I have of my cast. Okay, got it uploaded!
Te man who was in the room with me had a catfish bone stuck into his thumb. It looked absolutely horrid! He also spoke Polish.
In other news, I was going for a walk yesterday and I saw the black kitten I blogged about a few weeks ago. He was in someone's yard. The tabby cat also comes by my house every morning and I fed him a couple of times, including this morning. Thanks for reading, and if this doesn't make much sense it's because I'm too tired to proofread.
It all started in a picnic for my polish language school, which Mimi and I attended. We had just finished wandering the woods and attempting to film segments of our horror film (which went utterly horribly, by the way) and went to the open field where everyone was playing Dwa Ognie (literally two fires- it is a Polish kind of dodgeball). We began to play and I, having just been hit by a ball, went to the end of the field to help gather balls. I stepped in a hole, twisted up my left ankle, and limped back to the edge of the playing field, expecting the pain to subside in a minute or two. Whenever I twisted my ankle before, it was never serious at all and the pain stopped quickly. Part of me knew this twist was worse. It's hard to explain exactly how I knew. The twist seemed like, I don't know, five two-minute twists. I sat down, and my mother came over. Then Mimi got hit by a ball and she was out and came next to me too. So we sat there a little longer and I eventually got carried to the car, partway by a 'chair' made by my mom and Mimi. We went home. After an hour or two we dropped Mimi off and headed to the emergency room.
I got an x-ray done and this is what I understood is wrong with me. The bone isn't broken or fractured, but because I'm still growing this growth-thing-a-majig may be broken and it won't show. So after a few days I'll have to go see an orthopedist to see if it was a fracture as they can only tell if it's fractured once it starts healing. Because of this they treat it as a fracture and I got a neat splint done on my left foot. The splint reaches up to my knee. I also got a pair of crutches, and although the doctor said I could go to school tomorrow my mother said I shouldn't until I learn how to properly walk on crutches. It doesn't hurt too much; just mostly feels uncomfortable with a slight pain.
Te man who was in the room with me had a catfish bone stuck into his thumb. It looked absolutely horrid! He also spoke Polish.
In other news, I was going for a walk yesterday and I saw the black kitten I blogged about a few weeks ago. He was in someone's yard. The tabby cat also comes by my house every morning and I fed him a couple of times, including this morning. Thanks for reading, and if this doesn't make much sense it's because I'm too tired to proofread.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Horror
Who doesn't love a good horror film? Even to those who, like me, half-cover their eyes at all the good parts and must possess a remote with a 'mute' button in order to go anywhere near a scary movie, horrors are appealing.
To put it simply, they are different. They make you think and simultaneously freeze up your thoughts so that only a pounding brain and a pounding heart remains. They scare you out of your wits and make your stomach fly.
Because the good horrors are the ones so realistic you turn to your friend half-expecting her to lunge hungrily at your throat and strangle you until your limbs hang limply from your sides. That make looking into the mirror give you shivers, or that turn a simple object into something deadly and powerful and utterly frightening. Those are the best kinds of horror movies. Sure, otherwordly monsters are freaky too, but only for the moment. The realistic films attack your psyche and drill into your brain to plant seedlings of terror.
I must admit I'm a novice when it comes horror films- having only watched several, courtesy of my best friend Mimi- but, despite needing to cover my eyes (albeit covering them with hands whose fingers are wide enough apart to allow me to peek through) and despite muting all the good parts, I just truly enjoy being thrilled beyond words at something so realistic yet so out of this world that it just leaves me trembling. I've liked writing short scary stories for years (though none of them were much of anything good), but I have never yet tried anything like this. No, it's not a novel- eventually, I'd love to write a horror novel, but this isn't it.
(Have you guessed it yet?)
It's a horror film.
A short horror flick, to be exact. Mimi and I are working together on it- several flicks, actually, but I have one that is a favorite. I hope that we'll be able to complete it by late December/early 2011. Write the screenplay, script, etc, by mid-October, film by the end of November, assemble by the beginning of 2011.
I'm not going to share the exact plot at the moment (we don't have a final plot seeing as we have several possible plots all based around the same idea) but I will tell you this:
-My favorite plot idea is a pretty realistic one- nothing about demons or ghosts or vampires.
-It involves the woods, murder, and two friends.
-With the agreement of Mimi, it may be posted online for you to see.
When we finalize the plot I may share it with you to get some feedback, and I'll update you all when we get underway. Any tips would be greatly appreciated!
(and sorry for the utter lack of photography these days. A post with photos coming soon, I promise!)
To put it simply, they are different. They make you think and simultaneously freeze up your thoughts so that only a pounding brain and a pounding heart remains. They scare you out of your wits and make your stomach fly.
Because the good horrors are the ones so realistic you turn to your friend half-expecting her to lunge hungrily at your throat and strangle you until your limbs hang limply from your sides. That make looking into the mirror give you shivers, or that turn a simple object into something deadly and powerful and utterly frightening. Those are the best kinds of horror movies. Sure, otherwordly monsters are freaky too, but only for the moment. The realistic films attack your psyche and drill into your brain to plant seedlings of terror.
I must admit I'm a novice when it comes horror films- having only watched several, courtesy of my best friend Mimi- but, despite needing to cover my eyes (albeit covering them with hands whose fingers are wide enough apart to allow me to peek through) and despite muting all the good parts, I just truly enjoy being thrilled beyond words at something so realistic yet so out of this world that it just leaves me trembling. I've liked writing short scary stories for years (though none of them were much of anything good), but I have never yet tried anything like this. No, it's not a novel- eventually, I'd love to write a horror novel, but this isn't it.
(Have you guessed it yet?)
It's a horror film.
A short horror flick, to be exact. Mimi and I are working together on it- several flicks, actually, but I have one that is a favorite. I hope that we'll be able to complete it by late December/early 2011. Write the screenplay, script, etc, by mid-October, film by the end of November, assemble by the beginning of 2011.
I'm not going to share the exact plot at the moment (we don't have a final plot seeing as we have several possible plots all based around the same idea) but I will tell you this:
-My favorite plot idea is a pretty realistic one- nothing about demons or ghosts or vampires.
-It involves the woods, murder, and two friends.
-With the agreement of Mimi, it may be posted online for you to see.
When we finalize the plot I may share it with you to get some feedback, and I'll update you all when we get underway. Any tips would be greatly appreciated!
(and sorry for the utter lack of photography these days. A post with photos coming soon, I promise!)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Intense
A deep, dark, navy blue sky to the west punctuates the few people outdoors hurrying about their business before the storm strikes.
Streelights click on.
Lightning, still in the distance, flashes ominously behind the clusters of houses and buildings that reduce it to simply lighting up the sky, providing an aura around the concrete world. The wind picks up, rolling dead leaves across the quickly emptying streets and flopping Beagle ears.
Then the first few rain drops: drip, drip, drip, drop. Drip again. And real lightning, true lightning, closer and closer and defined in all its glory.
Now real raindrops, hammering roofs and freeing the crackly red leaves not yet dead enough to depart their homes, their trees, on their own. Then silence. Ethereal, whole silence, of which there are nearly as many different kinds as of sound.
Like this silence, merely a break between storms. Like the one soon to come, bidding good-bye to the thunder. Until we meet again, it says. And the storm agrees heartily with one last lingering rumble of thunder. Silence need not reply.
Streelights click on.
Lightning, still in the distance, flashes ominously behind the clusters of houses and buildings that reduce it to simply lighting up the sky, providing an aura around the concrete world. The wind picks up, rolling dead leaves across the quickly emptying streets and flopping Beagle ears.
Then the first few rain drops: drip, drip, drip, drop. Drip again. And real lightning, true lightning, closer and closer and defined in all its glory.
Now real raindrops, hammering roofs and freeing the crackly red leaves not yet dead enough to depart their homes, their trees, on their own. Then silence. Ethereal, whole silence, of which there are nearly as many different kinds as of sound.
Like this silence, merely a break between storms. Like the one soon to come, bidding good-bye to the thunder. Until we meet again, it says. And the storm agrees heartily with one last lingering rumble of thunder. Silence need not reply.
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