If I ever write a Hipster Rom-Com

I will string together all of the false starts from my life into something that panders to a very specific demographic that can't be bothered to give a damn. (These all happened but they were not all with the same person and they are certainly not in order)

Boy and girl will meet at the zoo. It will be winter, and freezing, and you'd have to be stupid to actually be at the zoo that day. They will walk around all day without encountering a single other living person and lament that the geladas are indoors for winter and watch seals swim around in the courtyard. They'll buy bagels at a sketchy grocery store in the Bronx and take the train all the way back into the city together, talking the whole way about what kinds of quirky hipster literature they like and then something will happen. (Unlike real life, where nothing happened.)

She'll post ambiguous song lyric Facebook statuses that he'll respond with coded confessions of love and she'll have something witty to say back, and not something asinine, and they'll realize that the feeling's mutual instead of just one person lying awake all night wondering if they really deserve to have good things happen to them.

They'll watch a terrible movie together. Maybe it's The Room. It's not even worth paying attention. He feels her up, and she lets him, instead of repeatedly moving his hands to some part of her body she's more comfortable with him touching, because that sends all the wrong signals, and later that night he'll kiss her instead of muttering, "Sorry, I made that awkward."

In this stupid Hipster Rom-Com, I'm actually played by Zooey Deschanel, or someone who looks like her, instead of just hopelessly copying her hairstyle, even though I'm too tall and too curvy and my eyes are too dark. And the critics will call it contrived and stupid and I will say, "No, no, this is my life, you don't understand, this is my life, only edited. All I did was make it better."

Mountains and Snow

"I would love to live in a little New England town," I say, gazing up the picturesque main street of Andover, MA. My older sister is less convinced.

"No you wouldn't," she says, and she knows me better than most, so it must be true. Still, I find a mystique in these little towns that dot the Northeast that my childhood was decidedly lacking. I grew up in an oppressively flat part of the country that was also, perhaps paradoxically, subject to extremely short horizons. There are some parts of the United States that I have visited that I characterize as having "wide skies." Nebraska, for example. Jacksonville, not so much. It is an expanse of low buildings that give the whole landscape a sense of claustrophobia. The road that runs through the center of my neighborhood, a broad six-lane monster, flows through an endless stretch of suburbia. If I were not familiar with the landmarks from a lifetime of traversing it, I would think it was composed entirely of recycled scenery.

Mountains long posed a fascination for me. I saw them for the first time on my first trip north, around the age of four. Somehow they left such a powerful impression that on the two later trips north that we made when I was young, I eagerly stared out the car window as we left Boston and drove north into the granite state. "Dad, are we in the mountains yet?"

"No, Aliza, that's a landfill."

In my seven years spent at camp in rural Georgia, I never grew tired of the novelty of topography. I liked land that had character, that had shapes and forms because of ancient geological processes. A world with bedrock, not the glorified sandbar of a state where I'd grown up. I'd return from every summer with clay-stained socks and bulging calves only to face the unrelenting flatness of Jacksonville, Florida, the land that plate tectonics forgot.

Snow, too, has never lost its novelty. This is my third winter north and the sight of white flakes swirling or tumbling past my window still fills me with the kind of wonder usually reserved for small children. It always feels warmer when it snows than when it doesn't, which I know doesn't make sense. Winter weather is another thing that bypasses Jacksonville entirely - as if my very presence on this earth repels powder, there has not been significant snowfall in my hometown since 1989.

So, obviously, the sight of a snowy New England hamlet is utterly irresistible.

I live in a city with artificial topography. I have taken an archeology class that taught me that this island used to roll with hillsides and valleys where Lenape tribespeople hunted and gathered, but the city has since been flattened into submission by advancing construction. On top of it rises a landscape of artificial mountains, Himalayas in the financial district and midtown bordered by foothill tenements on either side. From the window of my twelfth-floor apartment, the sky seems infinitely wide. The towers go on forever. It's not a thing like Jacksonville.

I have my mountains. They were just constructed by a different force of nature than I anticipated as a child.

Winter blahs

Today while waiting to be swiped in at the gym, I encountered an older man who my family knows from our synagogue. He commented to me that I looked like I'd gained a few inches, and I was taken aback - first of all because I haven't, and second of all, because who is he to make that kind of comment to me?!

"In height?" I asked uncertainly, trying to save the situation.

"Yeah, yeah, in height," he replied.

I've been the same height since eighth grade.

Also, I need someone to come over here with a shovel and dig my dignity out of this pit it's in. It started with reading Sherlock Holmes fanfic, which progressed to BBC Sherlock fanfic, which ultimately turned into 'Why the hell am I reading Sherlock/Harry Potter Crossovers and enjoying them."

Well, it's this or watch another ten episodes of Community. I can't help myself. It's hilarious.

I think I must have been really over-tired and kind of loopy last night, because when my roommate handed me a packet of cold meds I apparently proceeded to look up every single active ingredient, proclaim, "THEY ALL DO MAGICAL THINGS," go downstairs to take my pills, and sing about how "Advil is my one true love, it always makes me feel better."

I also dimly recall proclaiming, earlier in the night, "OH LADY GAGA, YOU ALWAYS KNOW EXACTLY HOW I FEEL," which I can only hope made more sense in context.

I also didn't notice that we had a huge new television in our common room until after I'd been watching spanish talk shows on it with my roommate, who was explaining to me who the hell all these people were, for ten minutes.

"WAIT WHERE DID THIS TELEVISION COME FROM?!"

At least the cold seems less terrible today.

On the downside, they're testing the fire alarm so it's been turning off and on since roughly 7 AM. :|

One sleep and then I'm there~

So I head back to NYC tomorrow! This is terrifically exciting except it reminds me that I never typed up my pitch for my play idea and class is on tuesday and I really ought to probably do that tonight. I'm really looking forward to this year, though. I'm excited about basically every single class I'm taking - the pair of anthro courses should be awesome because basically the earlier back in human history it is the more I like it and one is paleolithic archeology and one is human evolution so COME ON THIS SHOULD BE AMAZING. And also Playwriting II is going to be the most incredible thing ever, not even exaggerating, and FSA should be cool, and I AM TAKING A TAP DANCE CLASS, HOORAY.

Got my hair cut two days ago... it wound up too dark and my bangs are still kind of uneven and a little too short but it's better than the shaggy shaggy sheepdog look I was rocking. They'll grow out and look a bit better, whereas before it was just sort of like "Well, okay, I can't see."

So, what else...

I got the disk drive in my MacBook replaced because the original stopped reading things, and since it boots the disk drive when the computer starts up my computer makes a completely different noise when it boots now?

I need to email the internship I was trying to get and find out what's up?

I need to get on the ball with AUSA stuff?

And etc.

OKAY COOL.

NEW SCHOOL YEAR GO.

An intermission about Dinosaurs

And in the fading light, the long shadows looked like Dinosaurs brought back to life for a single moment - and then turning disappearing into the gathering dusk.

------------

Started work on something new (NOT about dinosaurs). Need to do revisions on Dog in Space but figure I have a few weeks until school starts. Back in Jacksonville which is actually a relief although mostly because it means I'm out of that horrible dorm room.

Moving back up on September third... and then exciting things will happen. (I hope.)

I went to the AMNH on my last day in NYC because a friend really wanted to see the exhibit about "The Largest Dinosaurs." So we did and it was pretty sweet! And there were also fossils and taxidermy walruses for all. Because what else do you need than taxidermy walruses and fossilized ground sloths? Nothing, I tell you!

Also it was pointed out to me that the life-size blue whale is suspended from the ceiling by a single point on its back. WHAT. WHAT. DEVIL MAGIC.

Okay, off to more doctors appointments, because that seems to be all I do when I'm home in Jacksonville. :|

Breathe in. Hold it.

This is the first time today I've really had a chance to chill out, and I'm about to go see if I can brave the crowds at Trader Joes and Duane Reade in exchange for groceries and toiletries... looks like a daunting task! But I got my bedding and dishes out of storage and feel like a super hero. I also vacuumed my dorm room and threw away a lot of rancid food from the fridge because apparently our suitemates don't understand how to clean up after themselves, but that's not really appropriate to go into on the blog.

Later tonight I'm planning an expedition - either solo or with friends - down to Battery Park City to watch the fireworks. Should be fun, right? More fun if I find friends, but either way.

Okay time to go find groceries.

Leez, over and out.

Raccoon Eden

We've got a family of raccoons living in our back yard - a mother and three mid-sized juveniles. I'd seen the mother run through a few times (in broad daylight! What?!), but last night was the first time any of us realized she had brought her babies over. They ran right across our back patio while we were eating dinner, stopped dead center, stared at us for about a minute, and then ran off and climbed up the grapefruit tree.

They haven't figured out how to get into our trash cans yet, and our dog doesn't spend time unattended outdoors, so we figure there's no harm in letting them be. While most people consider them pests, they haven't caused us any trouble so far and they're a native species. Maybe if we had a family of Nutrias or Armadillos in our back yard it would be different, but Raccoons don't burrow and they don't chew through wood and when you think about it, fifty years ago when no humans lived out in this part of the city... they were here first.

I can see why they'd like our back yard, though. It's shady, we have a metric ton of fruit trees, and the dog doesn't go poking his nose around where it doesn't belong. So for now, the raccoons get to stay and have their little slice of paradise. :)

Old dogs

This is Barney and he is twelve and a half years old. He is exceedingly fluffy, he smells terrible, does nothing but sleep, and he snores incredibly loudly. He has the kind of life that makes me think it's pretty good to be a housepet. But he's really clearly getting old - just over the last few months I've noticed that he's developed a paranoia about heights. He used to take flying leaps into the back of my mom's mini-SUV, and now he won't even climb into the back of my minivan when it's pulled up to the curb, and that's not a very high climb. He had a kind of rough fall one time when he tried it and now he insists on being carried. Which is only okay because he's only about 35 lbs and it's not very far.

But I love him, and that's why he gets a blog post with two photos today. Because isn't he pretty?

Yes?

I thought so.

The things you miss when you don't live here.

So I was about to walk my dog earlier today (smoke and ash or not, Barney still needs to go outside), but we'd barely gotten out the front door when I noticed a hulking pit-bull looking creature lurking at the edge of the cul-de-sac. Now, I am not the kind of person who is inclined to think that pitbulls are evil by virtue of being pitbulls, and in fact if your pitbull is on a leash and you tell me they are friendly, I will be all over that dog like "Oh my god I am so happy to see you, PUPPY." However this thing was unleashed and huge and wandering around the neighborhood. So I took Barnie out in the back yard and then went to go see where the huge beast had gone off to.

I tracked it back to my neighbor's house, where it had gone back into the back yard on its own but the gate was open. I knocked on the front door.

"Hey, um, do you own a huge pitbull-looking dog?"

"She's a mastiff, but yes."

"Your gate's open, she was down by the cul-de-sac, but she came back on her own, I think."

Which is always a kind of weird thing to be like. I mean, "Your dog's out" is one thing, but "Your dog's out, but she came back, and in fact I don't know what I'm doing here" is another.

And then all 140 lbs of mastiff (named Xena, apparently?!) came lumbering over to say hi and drooled all over me and was generally a sweetheart and it turns out it was kind of dumb that I was scared of her, but probably still good that I didn't let Barnie get near her because he's kind of dog-agressive, and weighs about a sixth as much as her. And I still think it's reasonable to be cautious of a huge dog wandering around by itself, even if you are generally a dog person, because it's not a dog that you know and it could do some serious damage. But I also thought it was interesting how quickly I changed from "stay away!" to "hello come here let me rub your belly" as soon as I was told the dog was friendly.

Anyways, that's about all for the moment.

Tempura fried everything

I keep saying to myself that I'm going to do some serious writing this summer break, which is hard because I don't know where to begin. I try to psyche myself up, assuring myself that I always have a few false starts when I work on a project and if I just power through them I'll punch through the other side and make something wonderful, but really... without deadlines, I'm not getting much done.

I went out for sushi and tempura tonight with a friend, and we spent about an hour talking about how we looked a lot like hipsters (Me with my bangs and what he called a "hipster bun" and a cardigan, him in horn-rimmed glasses and a very hipster button up) but weren't hipsters... I'm pretty sure if you spend an hour talking about not being a hipster, you by definition now are a hipster, congratulations.

And then I had the bright idea of putting an entire tempura mushroom in my mouth, which ended about as well as putting an entire tempura mushroom in your mouth can ever end. (Hint: it burns.)

We played hot-potato with the leftovers before passing them off on one of the guys working the night shift at Gamestop, who is a friend of my friend, and who he is buttering up in hopes of scoring a job, and then grabbed bubble tea while trying to stall before driving back. It was raining pretty hard, but it showed no sign of stopping so we decided to bite the bullet and head in. It was like driving under water. I was doing ten to fifteen under speed limit on the highway and for once no one cared. The lightning was INTENSE.

And then when I got home it happened to be the one place in the city where it was merely drizzling. But then the rain started a bit later and it was a frickin' monsoon.

A typical June in northeast Florida?

Pretty much.

The hipster bangs have it.

It's like I cut my hair and suddenly instead of being the chubby awkward girl, suddenly I'm the fun curvy girl, and I really like the change. I don't understand it, but it's kind of great.

It was definitely a well-timed, well-needed change.

Thought for the day:

I got called "professional" (by someone I really admire) for being able to meet a revision deadline. Shouldn't this be a basic life skill? I mean, I really do appreciate the compliment, but haven't we all been trained since birth to meet deadlines and due dates for assignments?

But apparently it's not. Because I know a zillion and two people who can't meet deadlines. I was one of them last semester, and I went a few days over on my screenwriting projects a few times, but deadlines are still deadlines for a reason. The expectation should be that you're going to meet them, shouldn't it? So theoretically, this should be like patting me on the head for being able to tie my shoes, but instead the expectation is that most people don't make an effort to meet deadlines and what is that. :|

Deadlines, summaries, elevator speeches. Learn 'em, live 'em, love 'em, they're make it or break it.

So, children, what have we learned this year?

I learned that you can dick around with a screenplay idea for a semester, write sixty pages and four treatments, and still not have anything that resembles a finished product, and still not have wasted the semester as long as you plan on someday coming back to the idea and actually writing it the way it's meant to be written.

I learned that it's not actually essential to do the Anthropology homework readings, but it's better if you do. And by better, I mean, "Do you want to pass the class?" So maybe Professor Grant was on to something when he said to do them. Which I did.

I learned that I am not a person who can be ignored.

I learned this after finding it written on a fortune cookie at the start of term and taping it above my desk.

I learned that I don't entirely know what I want to do with my life.

I also learned that this is okay, because I'm studying things in vaguely the right field and sooner or later I'll get it figured out.

Summation of the Day

After class, I went to the AMNH to work on my anthropology semester project. Got some really great stuff and talked to a really helpful volunteer. I think I can use this.

It was gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous out, so instead of getting on the B-C train, I decided to walk across central park and catch a 4-5-6, which is a more direct route home.

The park was beautiful, the temperature was perfect, and everywhere I looked there were happy, shiny people living happy, shiny lives.

And then I got on the most crowded 5 train of my life. It was like the Tokyo subway (I am assuming). There was no room to breathe.

And right now the guys next door are having a horrible, horrible loud party for the fourth night in a row. Killing them would be bloody, but it would also be infinitely satisfying.

late at night and I'm kind of ramble-y

When I was in elementary school, I was really into sewing. I remember that there was a brand of fabric glue my best friend and I used when we were making stuffed animals that had a very, very distinctive smell. I close my eyes and I can still smell this stuff, the odor was strong and could give you a headache after a while, but it's terribly nostalgic.

Once I got to college, I realized that the closest analog for what this stuff smelled like is the cheap marijuana my neighbors like to vent into the hall, and into our bathroom. I guess I'm thinking about it because they've currently managed to stink up my apartment.

On a totally unrelated note, Like a Dog in Space made it to the semi-finals of Blank Young Playwrights 2011! Hooray!!! Fingers crossed, let's see if I get in!

Super intern

So at work we use these things called "purchase orders" that are basically IOUs from school districts promising they'll pay for their orders sometime in the next few weeks. All of these have to be filed by reference number in case they're important later.

When I started working at the office in January, there was an enormous stack of purchase orders. At some point someone had gone through and sorted most of them... backwards? but other than that... nope, good luck. This was made more complicated due to the files that had no clear sense of range - orders in a single file might be in order, but overall they didn't really make any sense.

And purchase orders were arriving constantly, so the pile kept getting bigger.

I swore I would put an end to this. I swore I would battle the villain of office clutter and get the rowdy files under control.

And within the last two days, I did. There are currently ZERO purchase orders waiting to be filed, and everything is neatly ordered and labeled.

HOORAY!

Of course, there will probably be more when I go back on Friday. By which I mean there definitely will be.

But for now? I am super intern.

Also, paper cuts are battle scars from filing, don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

Like a boss.

Teacher: "So, Leez, why don't you pitch your screenplay to the class?"

So I pitched it.

And she was like, "Nice, did you practice that before hand?"

And I was like, "No."

And she was like, "It was really good."

LIKE A BOSS.

Thank god that's over with.

Yesterday around ten PM when I was up to my eyeballs in homework and stress and panic and stress and homework, I made a promise to myself: I was going to finish all this shit, regardless of whether it wound up decent or not, and then tomorrow I was going to go to the gym, because every time I told someone how freaked out and shitty I felt, they told me to go exercise and calm down. Around two AM I finished all my work and crawled into bed, where I proceded to lie awake freaking out about every single little thing in my entire life for the next half hour.

Apparently I can never remember what position I like to sleep in. I always start out curled up on my side, because I remember sleeping like that as a kid, but sooner or later I realize NO WAIT A MINUTE, I sleep on my back. When I'm stressed, it seems like I never realize this. (AND YES, I re-discover this EVERY NIGHT.)

Anyway, I turned in all my shit, got out of class around noon, and went to the gym.

I feel the crummy and the stress seeping out of my pores with the sweat.

Ahh!

Awkward turtle?

The guy who lives next door to me can never remember my name right, which is awkward because he really does try and usually winds up calling me some variant of "Allie." This is only made worse by the fact that I actually do always remember his name.

The biggest thing I miss about freshmen dorms is actually knowing the names of 80% of the people who lived on my hall, and actually hanging out with them.