The Romantics

I have realized I am more of a romantic than I previously thought. And there is only one thing to blame.

Hollywood.

So thought it would be fun (for me, and maybe you too) to compile a list of the top five offenders.

5. Circle of Friends - I guess I have a soft spot for the underdog getting the boy. I also have a soft spot for Ireland, and when Chris O'Donnell puts on that faux Irish accent, I'm mush.

4. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen spoke to my soul with her story of two sisters not unlike my sister and I. Erin, being Elinor, full of sense. And me, Marianne, slightly more emotional. Sure, Marianne didn't end up with the charismatic Willoughby, but Colonel Brandon was no slouch either.

3. Meet Me in St. Louis - If only John Truitt was my next door neighbor. The Trolley Song says it all. Nothing beats the moment when you see the person you've been waiting for. And I certainly can relate to not beating around the bush to be noticed. No one has ever accused me of being subtle.

2. Bridget Jones's Diary - Any who knows me knows that Bridget is my hero and like her wouldn't mind someone to like me "just as I am." And like her, preferably it would be Colin Firth.

1. When Harry Met Sally - I'm not too proud to admit there has been more than one New Year's Eve where I've watched this movie. "... when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Cart, get behind that horse!

I decided that because I spent so much money on my college text books, it might be a good idea to actually read them. Luckily, I majored in film and not geology.

I'm about halfway through "Zen and the Art of Screenwriting" by William Froug and am wondering why I didn't read it back in 2003. I'm enjoying it quite a bit.

"Zen" has gotten me thinking (which I guess is the purpose of college textbooks) and hopefully soon will get me writing. But, it has had an unexpected result as well.

The book is basically information on writing intermixed with interviews with successful screenwriters. They discuss their trials and tribulations but also their Oscars and other accomplishments.

But back to the trials and tribulations.

A common challenge these screenwriters faced was having their words rewritten and rewritten and rewritten, losing their vision along the way.

Now, I haven't even written a screenplay I'd want to show to anyone. But that hasn't stopped me from panicking that it's going to be completely redone and changed from my creative voice. I caught myself feeling the screenwriter's pain and making it my own. "How could they do this to us?!"

And then I realized, "Oh wait, they didn't do that to me. I haven't even written anything yet!" But when I do and it's been changed from a sweet and witty rom com into a blood and guts action flick, I bet that nice Hollywood paycheck will soften the blow.

Sixth sense

I can find British people anywhere. I'm like a moth to a flame.

Sharks just want to be friends?

Shark Week is over right?

Somebody should tell the sharks.

The ferocious and finned have made several headlines lately. Sharks have been spotted up and down the California coast this week. But there's one headline in particular that has caught my attention:

"Kayaker knocked off boat, comes face to face with great white".

Fisherman Adam Coca was going for a casual paddle in Pigeon Point when a great white decided his kayak would be a tasty snack. Coca escaped unharmed, but my advice? He's gonna need a bigger boat.

What would I do in this situation? If I was paddling along and Jaws knocked me in the water and proceeded to dismantle my boat, something tells me I would panic. Then I would probably play possum and wait to be eaten. I am not going to kid myself, I couldn't outswim a shark. Heck, I couldn't outswim a goldfish.

But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the shark doesn't want to eat me, sweet as I am. If I have learned anything thing from watching Shark Week all these years, it's that sharks aren't maneaters. So why was it attacking a kayak? Trying to get the yacht out of its teeth? Sounds a little fishy to me.

I think I will just avoid sharks until we can get this situation sorted out.

Definition

I am lacking definition.

My body is certainly lacking definition.

Not to mention my love life.

My career? No thank you.

Sometimes this gets me down. But then I remember there is Someone who defines me and I feel a lot better.

Not nice rice

Apparently it's time I faced the facts, I can't cook rice.

I've tried, and failed, several times now and I'm thinking of tossing out the rice cooker.

My first two attempts were with said rice cooker. Should be easy enough right? You just flip the switch and the rice cooks and lets you know when it's done. Well, the cooker gives up too quickly and I'm left with hard, half-cooked grains that get stuck between my teeth.

Tonight I thought, you know what? No need for the rice cooker, I'll just cook it in a pot on the stove. I followed the directions to the T. Ten minutes in, my rice started burning. But, I let it cook for the 50 minutes required by the packaging, and guess what? I was left with hard, over-cooked grains that got stuck between my teeth.

There must be a secret to cooking rice. Maybe someday I'll figure it.

If my teeth don't fall out first.

Starting from scratch

Well, I did it. I got the heck outta Dodge and after couch surfing for the last four weeks, I'm on my way to a new apartment. Please join me in shouting, Hooray!

Little did I know this is where the real headache begins.

It's been a while since I've had an apartment and I have forgotten how much stuff you actually need. Making it worse is that I'm no longer a college student, and so those luxuries I've become accustomed to in the last few years are not ones I'm willing to go without.

Last night, my new roommate (who in fact is an old roommate from said college days) and I planned a supply-shopping trip with excitement. On the list were two of my favorite places besides Europe and Disneyland: IKEA and Target.

IKEA was first on the list. As soon as we entered the doors, we were informed that the massive store would be closing in 30 minutes. Supermarket Sweep commenced.

After a half hour of hemming and hawing and picking up and putting back, we left empty-handed. "Big mistake. Huge," we told IKEA staffers as we departed. (Of course it was out of earshot, but we meant it!) We were ready to spend at least 40 dollars (that's right, 40 dollars!) and they blew it by closing. Ah well, at least there is Target.

At this point our heads were beginning to hurt and our tummies were growling, since we had planned on dining at IKEA and you heard how that turned out. But we braved on.

Indeciveness followed us around like an annoying little sister, but we were determined to have something to show for our shopping trip.

We ended up with some pots and pans, Brita water filter, towels, and a kitchen utensil set that we weren't entirely sure about. Oh and drinking glasses.

All and all, I'd chalk it up to a successful evening. We've barely scratched the surface of the things we need, but if we could just figure out what those things are, I believe we are good to go.

Driving Miss Megan

Driving in the Bay Area brings back not-so-fond memories of driving in Los Angeles.

Last week I found myself unintentionally heading toward San Francisco, when my plan was to go in the completely opposite direction.

At first I blamed Google Maps, and was formulating the angry letter I was going to pen them, but later I realized it was my own fault for not writing down the directions correctly. Hate it when that happens.

Fortunately, I remained calm as cars swarmed the lane for the Bay Bridge I was in, making the wait to cross it longer and longer. I even got an appreciative wave from one guy I let in front of me. (I am a big fan of the appreciative wave.)

So I just waited and waited. Luckily I had some cash to pay the toll, and before I knew it, I was headed into San Francisco. Aaaahhhh!!!!

There was no turning back, unless I wanted to drive into the Bay. So I just kept going. Once I saw some exits, I debated, Left or right, left or right. I opted to go where less people were headed.

Exiting, I swooped back around and headed right back over that bridge. It was a quick trip into the city, and now I know I can get there if I really want to.

They say it's good to face your fears, and in this case, maybe they were right, but it really is my intention to never ever ever drive in that city. (Again.)

A day in the life...

It's been a week since my "big move" to the Bay Area.

I don't really feel as though I've moved yet, because I'm still in that transitional-unknown-limbo place.

Trying to keep busy and each day productive is a bit of a challenge, but I think I'm doing OK.

I set my alarm for 7:30 a.m., and sometimes I get up or sometimes, like today, I hit snooze.

I then make my bed, which is an air mattress in the middle of Cat and Josh's living room, make some coffee, and do my Bible study.

Then I turn on my computer, turn on the music and browse for jobs. I try apply for at least one a day.

Then I write some.

Only then will I put a stamp on my day and go to sleep knowing I did something.

Face off

Thanks to company furloughs, this morning my alarm clock didn't wake me and I was able to sleep in until 6:30 a.m. Yes, that is sleeping in for me, and I was grateful for it.

After meeting coworkers for a delicious breakfast, I am now seated at the local coffee shop (yes, Copperopolis has one) and trying to make my day productive. There's so much I need to do, such as find a new job before my big move (any suggestions?), exercise (eh, let's be honest, probably won't) and write a blockbuster film (won't finish it today, but I can at least name the characters).

It's really nice to have a day off to get some things done, because I know the next few weeks are going to be extremely busy.

But, challenging my ability to get things done is, of course, the enemy: Facebook. "What's so and so doing right now?" I wonder. "I really need to leave Jane Doe a message." "Oh my gosh, look at John Smith's new baby!"

Facebook, why don't you want me to accomplish anything? Are you going to pay my bills? Go to the gym for me? Film my script? I'm pretty sure the answer is no.

So when I finally find where Facebook has moved the Sign Off button to, I exit immediatly. But Facebook knows as well as I do, I'll be back. Oh yes, I'll be back.

All signs point west

I have a lot to look forward to right now. And let me tell you, it's a wonderful feeling.

For a few years now, I feel like I have been in a rut, not quite sure where I was going... and suddenly it seems as those the fog is lifted and I can see a sign pointing "that way."

I still don't know 100 percent what is ahead, but even that is a thrill. Who knows what could happen? I'm going to find out. As along as I expect some good, some bad, I'll be able to cope with whatever is thrown my way. And worst case scenario, I'm not going to die, so why not just go for it?

It's hard to explain to some people when you are acting on faith, that you're not worried when they think you should be.

But as author H. Jackson Brown Jr. says, "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is."

Girls who stare at goats

Have you ever made eye contact with a goat? I did on Sunday. And let me tell you, their eyes are creepy.

Instead of round pupils like most everything else that has eyes on the planet, goats' pupils are rectangular. I wonder if they see everything in widescreen format?

After searching a short time, but still longer than I thought, the best answer I found was that the rectangular pupils allow them to look all around without have to move their eyes. This also helps them see better at night.

And, here's an extra bit of trivia, octopuses have rectangular pupils too.

I bet you never knew you wanted to know that.

"Write this down ... it's gonna be good"

I often wonder what makes a statement a quote. Does the person saying it know that the words coming out of their mouths will be copied down and repeated by others for generations?

Do they plan on saying it, practicing it over and over again until they line up the words just right?

Here are a few random quotes, some that make me laugh, some that make me think, and others that just need repeating:

"One of the things I learned the hard way was that it doesn't pay to get discouraged. Keeping busy and making optimism a way of life can restore your faith in yourself." -Lucille Ball

"I have a higher and grander standard of principle that George Washington. He could not lie; I can, but I won't." -Mark Twain

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment." - Jane Austen

"Wishing will never be a substitute for prayer." -Ed Cole

"Everyman's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." -Hans Christian Anderson

"Tell me I'm clever; tell me I'm kind; tell me I'm talented; tell me I'm cute; tell me I'm sensitive, graceful and wise; tell me I'm perfect -- But tell me the truth." -Shel Silverstein

Expectations vs. Reality

I have a habit of being unrealistic. For those of you who know me, it's hard to believe, I know. Not sensible, head-out-of-the-clouds Megan, you might be thinking. But yes, let me tell you, it's true.

I have come to terms with, and enjoy, this fact about myself. However lately there have been a few instances of people telling me I have too high of expectations, need to get in touch with reality, and that what I'm expecting is unattainable.

They all have good points, but you know, I'm OK with spending some time in my land of make believe. I like imagining my life turning out like the end of a Drew Barrymore movie (unless it's Scream). So what if it doesn't?

Honestly, I know it probably won't. I'm not that crazy. And I'm OK with that. Really.

But until my life is over, I'm going to keep expecting and imagining the biggest and best is in store.

And in the meantime, until the Director of my life says, "Cut!" I can just rewatch the dailies of the amazing experiences I've had so far.

Oh my poor neglected little blog...

I hate to say this, but sometimes I have to remind myself, "Hey, Megan," I begin, "remember you love to write. So why don't you do it?"

"I know, I know," I respond to myself. "But what should I write about?"

"You'll think of something," I say.

"But what if it's terrible?"

"But what if it's not? What if it's something truly great and funny and will earn you acclaim and millions of dollars?"

"You're right! I better get to work!"

And then I proceed to stare at my computer for the next three hours, hammer out a few pages and call it a day. And then never work on that particular piece again. (I'm really glad the characters I create aren't real people because it would be like creating a head without finishing the body. I'd have all these bodiless people rolling around and who would really hate me.)

This process is repeated about every few months, and, as you can tell with the sparsity of my blogs as late, now is the time to start all over again. I'd like to say I'm back by popular demand, but really only two people have asked me about my lack of blogging.

I've been thinking as a writer, I'm a bit guarded. There are some things I'd like to write about in this blog, but then I realize, people will then know that about me. That I'm a person with thoughts and feelings?! The horror!

I know should make myself more vulnerable and will make that happen. However, expect it to be a slow and painful process.

Very slow, because this is all you're getting out of me for now.