The Sam Abides

Three weeks until I get to see the Mississippi River.

Three weeks and one day until I get to see Chicago.

I love LA, but damn it, I get to see Christine, Jordan, Mike, Paul, and select members of the rest of the gang.

Phone interview today went well. I will find out on Monday if I got the internship closer to home after school ends.

Script due by May 26th. Freaking out because it can't involve kids.

Talked to a friend tonight and realized I haven't seen the stars since Kansas. And I haven't really seen many stars in Hollywood that aren't cemented into a street. Me, Orion, and the 'Sip have a date, I think, when I get home. Over ice cream.

Tomorrow, going away party for another friend. I'm sad about this.

Next weekend, I might be throwing my own party.

Coming soon: NEW BLOG THAT INCLUDES DISPOSABLE CAMERA PHOTOS.

Family

My mom just informed me that she had a dream about a medical condition. She's been feeling under the weather and believes this might be the solution. Or rather, a means to the solution. I should very much like to dream questions that have answers.

Today, I spoke to my dad on the phone longer than my mom. This might be the first time that has happened in ages, and I was very glad. My dad and I don't talk as much as I'd like.

My brother has also been texting and calling me the past few days. It's funny how the more physical distance comes between us, the closer we are to becoming friends. He and I are two radically different people and probably would never have gotten to know each other were it not for the fact that we were born 19 months apart and spent our entire lives together.

Family, I suppose, is something that we have to define as we grow up; all the while, it defines us, to some extent. Regardless of the situation, for better or worse, our family (or lack thereof) influences us in so many ways--some subtle and some not.
My friend Dave, who calls me sister, often remarks that family has nothing to do with genetic relations.
No relationship, though, is by choice. We can only relate to those in our lines of communication. Circumstance brings us together, as much as we probably hate to admit it. I mentioned this in a previous post, but this concept continues to blow my mind.
Family adds a whole different layer, something I find fascinating. While I love my immediate family, about half of my extended, my parents' immediate families, are strangers. People I would not know at all outside of circumstance. Yet, for better or worse, they are in my life. Perhaps that is reassuring. Perhaps it is terrifying, but it is my life, and, to some extent, beyond my control or understanding.
I love that feeling, knowing that I am not entirely responsible for the conditions of my life. Call it irresponsible, but I think the stress of thinking otherwise is just too much.

And with that, I return to Samland with my koala and my gymnasts.

The Annoying Bit about Hostessing and Other Bits of My Weekend

Shitheads that enter my restaurant and seat themselves make me crazy. It's also infuriating when people wander around the restaurant looking for a table, like I'd lie to them. And when people see there's a list and take a table that is not bussed or finished, do they really think they can keep sitting there?
I'm over it.

I sorta like the amount of sun burn I have, despite the fact that some of it is on my ass, in a way. The sunburn on my face is the sort that doesn't hurt and won't peel and makes me look like I had a lot of fun. More of a glow than anything. If that makes sense. I want to play football on the beach.

Today, I am doing laundry and sitting at my house writing. I like slow nights like this, but it leaves a lot of time to think. I want to watch a movie with anyone or a cat. But I'm very tired of movies, sometimes. Although I love film, I feel like I need a break from it lately. But everything feels filmic. I also hate that word, and I apologize for using it. Back to what I was saying, though. I can't pick up a book without thinking how to adapt it. I can't listen to music without thinking of the story in the song or of how it could work in a movie. I can't sleep without a scene from a script popping in there. My friends are all film types. At least I have Barney's. Sports movies aren't my thing, but sports themselves are, so I don't try and correlate the two. I can't wait until basketball season is over, though. The NBA is so lame on TV. Basketball is too tiny, like soccer or hockey, to be experienced from a TV screen. Oh well. Everything else about work is great. And film is great, too. I just think I'd like a break. And some tacos. But my mom's tacos. Not anyone else's.

I think I am starting to develop actual friendships in LA. Not just the sort where I know people and have to call them my friends because I don't know anyone else. It's very exciting. It makes the whole place feel even more right than it already does.

Chihuahuas shouldn't exist. Especially the one next door on the side where my window is. If it ever finds its way under my tire, I won't put on my brakes and I won't apologize. That is how it has to be.

Writer's Guild this Friday. My week is going to rock so hard.

Here's to an amazing weekend and a good week ahead!

Sunburn

The top part of my legs below my butt is slightly sunburned. It was worth it though. Laid on the beach all day. Didn't move except to roll over. This is the way every Saturday should be.
And I still managed to be productive!

The Death of a Friend

My hair dryer died today. We have been together since the summer of my sophomore year in high school. I'm actually pretty sad about it. What do I do with this dead dryer? Do I throw it away? It just doesn't feel right. Buying a new one will also feel strange.

In other news, in bigger news, the trailer for the web series I produced was in a festival--Tubefilter, a new media group, showcased it tonight at the Avalon Club. After convincing the bouncer to let me in despite the 21+ age limit, it was a great night. The trailer actually got the crowd to listen. Amazing. Soon, I'll post a link so everyone can see it. It warrants being seen.

Today, hike. Tomorrow, beach. Hooray warm weather... finally!

I'm watching Meet Joe Black and eating a burger right now. I love Friday nights.

Love Letter to the Mississippi River

Seeing as it is the only relationship in which I am ever 100% comfortable, I sat down and wrote my first love letter last night to the Mississippi River.
Since It doesn't have an address, I thought I'd just post the letter here and hope it gets to the right place.

To My River:

Can you hear across the mountains when I yell at the traffic? Does my voice carry the 2000 miles through my car windows to shake your waters under the dam? It always happens over the cement creek they call a river—we stop and I stare at the vast dry walls for riverbanks. My heart is thirsty, and even though I’m happy, I don’t yell at the Toyotas, I yell for the right sort of water. The water muddied with the stories of America, the stories of my life before I became Samantha. You knew me as Sam. Sam without question. You never asked what I preferred. You just said so and it was. Nothing here, not even the mountains, can have that sort of assertiveness.

To be clear, I do not miss anything beyond your banks. Nothing that cannot come to me, anyway. The streets were no better, and the people certainly lacked the superficial West Coast Warmth. Superficial used to be a bad word. Now it is a way of life. Never dig too deep because there’s nothing but sand anyway. I think people’s personalities reflect their rivers. I have a certain depth, a certain muddiness, a certain great big connective purpose because I am rooted along your banks. While I have never been happier, I wish most days I could sit and tell my stories along your shore. Couldn’t you reroute my way? I know you’d like it here. I know they’d like you. Everyone likes everything in Los Angeles. But I think you inspire a deeper fondness; one worthy of Kerouac’s ravings, of Twain’s prose, of my own pathetic ramblings.

Even though Los Angeles is my home now, I will forever be a tree planted by a river’s banks, conscious and grateful for strong, healthy roots. You, and you alone, give me reason to return. Perhaps it is crazy to say this to a constantly changing body of water, but I love you. And then again, perhaps it is my favorite relationship because it can never change. We are always going to be Sam along the River; we are always going to hold each other’s stories. So I love you a hundred times over and miss you a hundred times more. Keep flowing, but be kind this year—keep the floods at bay. No one likes them but me, and I’ve already checked it off my list of disasters. Your path is sure. Mine is coming along nicely. Perhaps they will cross, and I will become another tributary in your long and perfect history.

Love,

Sam

Easter Eggs, Circumstance, and High-Octane Adventure

Happy Easter. I'm glad for Jesus.

The other night, I had the most wonderful conversation with Jordan. He was talking about his favorite scene from Watchmen (which I still need to see) and he spoke of how amazing it is that people meet. Micromiracles, he said. And it's true. As if the odds of life aren't astronomical enough, the fact that people can meet and mesh is even more amazing. Take Jordan and I, for instance. We grew up in two different states, hundreds of miles apart, never knowing we were joined by tributaries of rivers (the rivers have nothing to do with anything, but for me they mean everything, but I've established this a million times). We went to the same school in Chicago and shared a major. We could have met then. We had the same class. We did meet, but we weren't friends. Then, by random assignment of a computer, we had to work together on the "What Happened in Class Today" together. We started talking. There was a memo pad involved because Jordan is a quiet person. Notsomuch anymore, but certainly when we met. Then we became friends. Jordan met Paul by pure coincidence on a film set. Paul and I met on Jordan's film. Paul and I are friends. Another prime example is Jim. Jim and I, again, by chance, were neighbors. We introduced ourselves. Two different majors. Different backgrounds. Not friends yet. I needed a composer. He makes wonderful scores. Now I consider him a close friend. Amazing. We don't really choose our friends. We can't even really look for a particular person to be our friend. It is all circumstance. Personally, I believe it is fate. Beyond just knowing and loving people, though, these people that are in our lives shape us in ways we don't even realize. Remove one, just one person, and a life becomes a different story entirely. Without Jordan or Jim (or the gazillion other people with whom I have collided), I would not be in the same circumstance I am today. Sure, I might have made it to LA. I might have been happy. But honestly, the people in my life make me so happy that it's unreal. Just talking to my new roommate, Moani (another happy accident), I told her that the past three months have been the happiest of my life. And it's so true. I was thinking about how long I've gone without a therapist, how long I've gone without a severe panic attack, and I realized it's been ages. My little disease is in remission, perhaps it's gone forever. Either way, my life, at the moment, at this very beautiful moment on Easter Sunday, is amazing. And it is not my doing. It is not the place. It is the people I know. It is the people who have supported me from afar, family and friends; it is the two wonderful people I live with; and it is the new friends I have made that make me smile. To me, today, highlighted by the miracle that is the resurrection, these beautiful people are proof that there is a God of Love watching out for all of us, even through the darkness, because, inevitably, we find light in life.

On a lighter note, I was finally free to go out last night with friends. Sunny and Haley, from my drama writing class, Chris from producing, and Jeremy from the random phone number from Nick (who is also a Columbia alum but it is wayyy more fun to say I just called his number... sorry about this...) went to see Fast and Furious. I love bad movies with film kids. We were those assholes laughing and talking through the whole movie. Get over it. It was awesomely bad. Thank you Vin Diesel for being a mostly bad actor.

Go out and celebrate. Dye some eggs. I did. First year I haven't had to share the dye or the eggs. Hell yes. (Can I say hell yes on Easter?)