Why else did I keep a livejournal all those years?

I'm sure you all thought I would be updating this with disparaging remarks about James Franco's recent Oscar hosting performance. I would love to oblige, but unfortunately I only watched the first part of the Oscar's and then only in the background while trying to come up with ways to make the difference between GDP and GNP interesting and relevant to teens. I will say he gave the impression, during the part of the broadcast that I watched, that he would rather have been napping. Did anyone else feel like he really didn't want to be there?

Anyway, I'm plowing ahead on that book this week, so in lieu of a classy, fresh update I'm giving you another blast from the past. After all, just because I have writer's block now, doesn't mean I didn't used to have loads of stuff to write about. Actually, looking back over my old journals and blogs, I realize the reason I wrote so much is because I had a lower standard for what I thought people might find interesting. But, at any rate, desperate times call for recycled tales of my youth. Here's one about embarrassing myself at college functions back in 2007.

Tonight there was a Lesbigay party at a local pub. Jill and I felt it was necessary to make an appearance because a) its high time we prove our loyalty to the organization by going to a function that doesn't offer free food and b) because it was a theme party with the theme of "dress as your favorite fictional character." Now I love a good theme party, but unfortunately I left most of my bizarre and/or costume-y clothing at home. However, what I did have was a red semi-formal dress which I brought just in case I had a semi-formal red dress wearing occasion while abroad. As I had not yet gotten a chance to whip that sucker out, I knew it would have to feature prominently in my costume. Serendipitously, Jill had a similar predicament with a red dress. Naturally, we decided to wear our red dresses, make our hair crazy and big, give ourselves sultry eyes through the power of makeup, and draw snakes on our faces and chests with eye liner. Sound like any fictional characters you know? Yeah, we couldn't think of any either. That's why we decided to be from a book no one has really ever read--and enter Ulysses. Yep, we were the two red dress twins from James Joyce's much ballyhooed epic.

Feeling cheeky and clever as we often do, we were all excited for people to ask us who we were. We had planned out dialogues where they would be skeptical and we would say "Oh come on!" (a la Gob of Arrested Development) "The red dress twins? You really don't remember them? Haven't you read Ulysses?" However, when at the party, an instance finally presented itself and Jill was able to utter our tagline, we realized something: while our little skit was all well and good to people who knew us, feigning disbelief and implying people are stupid and lacking in literary knowledge is actually quite rude when done to strangers. So much for making friends over at Lesbigay.
If livejournal weren't requiring me to "upgrade my account" in order to post a picture from this evening, I surely would. As it is, if you ever want to see a picture of me doing my version of "sexy" while sporting eye-liner snakes with their tongues sticking out--well, all you have to do is ask.

Luckily, I've switched to blogger since 2007 when this post was made. And thus, I can post a picture of us:

I enjoy looking back at 20-year-old me even if she is a wee bit insufferable. So much so that I'm considering posting something else I wrote back then. For those who regularly read the Modern Love column in the New York Times magazine, they're currently advertising their annual college essay contest where they welcome submissions from college students on the fate of modern love for the youth crowd. I wrote one back in 2007 (or possibly 2006?), soundly rejected by them, all about how my relationship with my very first boyfriend ended in a tragic (if not entirely undeserved) facebook dumping. It's less whiny than it sounds, I swear, but reading over it I'm still pretty glad it never made it to the New York Times. It might just make it to my blog, however. Really it just depends how much my readers want to read about me as an awkward teen...

Blast from the spring of 2007

This is something of a cop out update because I've gotten really busy with some freelance work lately. If only I got paid hourly to update this site! It's actually pretty exciting because they're letting me edit some books that one of the full time editors couldn't finish before she was promoted to another department. Better still, my first book to edit is one titled Ghosts and Poltergeists. Finally, something I learned in college will come in handy! Or rather, the hours I spent hanging around with my roommates watching episodes of Ghost Hunters will come in handy. I've already found a way to work "fear cage" into the glossary.

While I was looking for one of these assignments on my home computer, I ran across the text I'd saved from a short lived blog I kept several years back. I'd never revealed it publicly, but it ran under the heading "She only ate pops that were lolly" and chronicled my thoughts while living in South Africa in the spring of 2007. I enjoyed reading over it and being reminded of such things as the time I met a professional mime in a hostel in Namibia or the (I now realize) somewhat paranoid fear that my parents were hiding the fact that my dog had died because they didn't want to upset me (he actually lived another year after my return). While I'm busy researching hauntings, I thought I could entertain you with one such post from this former journal:

It started innocently enough; I just wanted to improve my posture. My friend Geraldine is often bemoaning my apparent "hunch" and telling me to "stand up straight!" and "be confident!" and "don't be ashamed to show off your breasts!" All good advice, I'm sure. At any rate, I asked my friend who is an actor about the Alexander technique and how I can train my body to better nurture my spinal column.

She explained it to me in the following way, which I shall publish for the benefit of anyone reading who suffers from hunching: First, stand with your feet shoulder width apart and imagine they are tripods-- your weight should be balanced in the center of each tripod naturally. Your knees should not be locked (keep them soft!) and your pelvis should be tucked but not jutting out. Don't suck your stomach in or let it hang out; try to keep it in a relaxed position. Feel your spine lengthening and widening (I'm not sure I've really mastered this step yet). Keep your shoulders back. As for your head, imagine it is a ping pong ball balanced by the fountain that is your spinal column. Congratulations! You are now aligned!

The problem though is that I've become obsessed with my alignment. When I'm walking past a reflective window, I have to look at myself to see if I'm standing up perfectly straight. People come up to me or say "hi" (its a pretty small town) and I don't even hear them because I'm so fixated on my own posture. Also, another part of the Alexander technique is that you take the time to "inhibit." The enemy of bad posture is feeling rushed and not taking the time when you stand up or sit down or even are just walking, to make sure that you are aligned. Thus periodically it is important if you feel you are slipping back into slovenly slouching, to stop wherever you are and repeat the steps I so thoughtfully outlined above. Inhibiting has also become a regular part of my day. At first, I minded the strange looks I got from passing cars when I stopped mid stride, spaced my feet shoulder length apart, had a look of concentration on my face not unlike when one is preparing a bowel movement, and then proceeded a minute later as if nothing had happened. But gradually my embarrassment faded as I became truly addicted to inhibiting.

The thing is I do feel taller, more confident, and oddly prouder of my breasts, but I also really miss thinking about other things. I've been promised that once my body is really retrained under the Alexander technique that I won't even have to think about it. I just hope that day comes soon, before I get mugged because I'm too busy looking at myself in a car window to pay attention to where I'm walking.


Here I am back in 2007, posturing against the wind.