Today, I spent five hours sitting in the Student Union with dozens of other film students and/or film aficionados like myself watching the 86th annual Academy Awards (Spoiler: The Academy Award goes to… not Leonardo DiCaprio). It’s been a while since I actually tuned in to watch the entire event, partially because most of the previous hosts sucked ass.
Ellen DeGeneres was killed it, and I’d love for her to host my life or my funeral or something. The highlight of tonight was probably the little pizza party where the pizza delivery guy came on stage and Brad Pitt was handing out paper plates to A-listers like a dad at his kid’s birthday party. And the most retweeted selfie. That was good too.
I also enjoyed it because I was among a group of people who looked up to filmmakers and actors/actresses as much as I did, and that was something that I never quite felt. For five hours all of us just sat there watching golden statues being distributed to directors and editors and writers and set designers and actors. What’s so remarkable about that, to me at least, is that despite the fact most of the world finds this trivial, movies are important to probably every single person in that room with me.
I was born and raised in Silicon Valley where there is absolutely no entertainment industry. There’s a whole lot of technology and maths, but no movies, no music, no media. None of my classmates were into movies or music, and thought that I was weird for being so into what I was into. And eventually, it made me think that I was weird for being so obsessed and into films and television and music. Until, of course, I enrolled as a film student where most people seemed to be as passionate about the subject of media arts. Now I’m glad that I can finally enjoy it with more than just myself.
I’ve always hated awkwardness. It always made me frustrated that real life isn’t like the movies. In movies, there is no awkwardness. Okay yeah, maybe the initial awkwardness when the protagonist meets the girl or the boy he or she fancies, or when he or she meets a new friend, or maybe a new group of friend. But after that initial awkwardness, it disappears. Then comes the constant witty banter with so much chemistry that I want to cry because it seems like I won’t ever find friends or boyfriends like that. Reality isn’t smooth and easy like that, because no that would be boring. I used to be embarrassed and bothered by silence, rambling, and stumbling. But now, not so much.
This was a spiritual journey that only took one day. I went to Disneyland today with a group of friends. For the first few hours, we were all talking nonstop, getting a bit pumped for exploring Disneyland in the pouring rain. Mike hasn’t gone yet this year at all, and we’ve been planning on going together since school started, so we finally went today. To understand the extent of my hate for awkwardness, I was feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable bumping into and stepping on my friends trying to dodge incoming strangers. And I’m just uncoordinated. But anyway, eventually conversation starts to falter, only to pick up sporadically and then die just as quick. Moments when we’re walking in complete silence. Oh god, that bothered me at first. I was racking my brain trying to find something, anything to say but I didn’t come up with anything worthwhile. After a while, it got easier. If you’re walking in silence with some friends, chances are the only reason it’s awkward for you is because you’re thinking it’s awkward. Nobody else is thinking anything. It became more comfortable as time went on.
When you just meet someone, there’s no limit to the things you can talk about. He or she is a complete stranger, a blank slate by your book, and conversing is easy. As you familiarize yourself with people, there’s a lot less to talk about. Once you’ve said it, you’ve already said it. So the conversation is replaced with silence. And that’s the beauty of it! You’re so comfortable with these people that you surround with that there can be silence. You don’t need to make a first impression because chances are, they already know how uncoordinated you are and that you chew with your mouth open. It shouldn’t be awkward.
No, it’s not like the movies. People aren’t flawless after you meet them, and life isn’t always full of clever quips. People ramble, they trip over their words, they run out of things to say. You should never feel awkward about that.
“Failure” is such a terrifying word. It’s such a terrifying concept.
There’s an overwhelming amount of pressure from ourselves, from friends, from family, from society, for us to succeed. Think about it. We spend our entire adolescent lives setting goals for the future. Everything we did was a stepping stone for our future. Elementary school and middle school cemented our foundations of knowledge so that in high school we may build upon it as we start thinking about careers and future plans. College, to prepare ourselves for the adult world. All through setting goals.
The dictionary states that to fail is “to be unsuccessful in achieving one’s goals.” To fail the goals that we set for ourselves means that everything we did leading up to it meant nothing.
I don’t care how many times people tell me that in order to learn, you must fail. It doesn’t make it less fucking disappointing to be unsuccessful in your dreams and goals, goals that were years in the making. The years we struggled to get through.
Sure it’s not the end of the world, you must pick yourself up and try again. But it’s a shitty feeling and we’re entitled to feel it, and that’s why I hate inspirational quotes about failure.
First of all, if you’re not watching the British E4′s My Mad Fat Diary, you’re seriously missing out. It’s flat out one of the best shows on television today. I don’t think I’ve ever watched a show that quite made me laugh so much and cry as hard. This show deals with Rae’s, the protagonist, friend issues, mental health, and body image, and that shit hits home for me. And one word– Oasis. Set in the 90′s, you will absolutely melt with how fucking great the soundtrack is.
But in addition to tasteful writing and legendary music, there’s a certain someone who has managed to capture not only Rae’s heart, but the audience’s hearts as well. Nico Mirallegro plays Finn, who is Rae’s love interest in the series, and has climbed up to the top of my list of ”Fictional People I’d Definitely Date”–and quite rapidly too.
It’s not strange for me to fall in love with fictional characters. I have many on-screen loves, like Ian Gallagher of Shameless and Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Steve Rogers. That’s like, a thing for me, completely normal alright? But nobody quite takes the cake like Finn, and here are some reasons why:
- Let’s state the obvious first: he’s a sex god. If it helps create a mental picture, remember Georgia sighing about how Robbie is a sex god in Angus, Thongs, & Perfect Snogging? That’s me whenever his face graces my high resolution, Retina display. I find myself physically fanning myself, and I’ma be real: his butt is fantastic (refer to the shower scene of 2×01, you will not regret it).
- His taste in music. He’s an Oasis fan and he loves the Smiths, need I go on?
- Which brings me to his fashion sense. Band shirts, rounded sunglasses, his cute little necklace, leaTHER JACKET, PLAID SHIRTS, AND FITTED TEES. Swoons.
- His accent. Just a little okay? I’m not one to fetishize English accents or anything, but he could have the most ridiculous accent and it’d be cute as fuck.
- He’s emotionally stunted like me! He admitted he has trouble with expressing himself and his feelings. Wow, what a catch!
- He sticks up for his friends. When poor Rae has a period accident and some assholes start making fun of her, Finn steps in to kick their asses. Bonus points for, “You apologize to her now or I will fucking curl you up, alright?” British slang sounds absolutely ridiculous 99% of the time, but that was pretty fucking hot.
- And most importantly, his love for Rae. Rae, an overweight girl who has struggled (and/or is still struggling) with self-esteem issues, and cutting, and eating disorders, is the object of his affection. The object of a fit and handsome boy. You don’t see this on screen, and you hardly see this in real life. And when you do, you’re lying if you say you don’t notice their “differences.” Society has told us that things like that don’t happen, or things like that are out of the norm. Finn loves Rae for who she is, for her personality, for her flaws, for her quirks, for her taste in music, and yes, even for her appearance. He thinks she’s beautiful and accepts her for how she is. And even though Rae is having a hard time understanding why, we certainly aren’t. Which is why it’s absolutely imperative that they are endgame!
Today has just been one of those days where I just hate myself so much. I’m really exhausted from being on set all day, by the way, so I’m sorry if this is incoherent or if there are glaring grammatical errors in this post. But yeah, speaking of set, I don’t know like a single person on set aside from Ariel, Jack, and Wyatt. The people were super nice, but it was so mentally tiring and difficult for me be social. I faked it, and I asked everybody for their names but I’m just so fucking awkward I literally say the dumbest shit in the world.
Until I’m an upperclassmen working with people in my class, I doubt I can find another set I liked more than 15 Minutes and Counting. God, like Chris, Donny, Lauren, etc etc. they were so amazing and I don’t know, I felt more like I fit in. Meh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.
I feel so insignificant and unlikeable and it’s just been a while since. It must be the fact that I was put in a really stressful environment where I had to meet a whole flock of new people. As soon as we were let out, I made a beeline for the door (which totally looks bad on my part) but I had to get out of there. :/
Currently listening to: Untitled – Interpol
Sometimes I have so many thoughts that I can’t even think clearly.
I feel like I sometimes come across as such an asshole without even trying that it’s almost like a talent. But honestly, 95% of the shit I say aren’t meant to be rude or offensive, just misconstrued and most likely poorly delivered.
Today, I was talking to Carol about TV shows she should watch, since the only show she really knows is Sherlock and in my opinion, there are so many better shows than that. So here I go, listing must-sees, which consists of shows like Shameless and True Detective. Christian and Sam come along and overhear what we’re chatting about, and so they start giving their two cents. Which is like cool, you know, but I’m very loud and blurt-y when it comes to television. I get excited.
Christian mentions Girls, which I refuse to get into because a) Lena Dunham and b) just no, it doesn’t pique my interest in any shape or form, and here I go. I yell, “NO! JUST NO. LENA DUNHAM. NO.” And Christian just kind of makes this sad face, remains quiet, and then I feel like a fucking ass.
I don’t care if he watches Girls. I don’t care if he likes Girls. I don’t care if Girls is the only show he watches, and he rewatches all the already aired episodes every third Saturday of each month. I don’t think any less of him, or anyone else for that matter, because he watches a show that I don’t. And I really hope he doesn’t either.
This is just a thing I do. Yes, I’m strongly opinionated but I would never shove it down someone’s throat, nor would I, seriously, tell them their opinion is wrong if it’s different. I’m like this for most things. I like to have lighthearted debates (that probably seem heated and anything but lighthearted) with my friends about conflicting opinions. Key word being lighthearted. We literally just throw insults at each other back and forth. I don’t take them seriously and they don’t take me seriously, because while we may not understand, we’re okay with the fact that we think differently. I’m a very unserious person (I can’t even take myself seriously when I’m serious), and it’s unfortunate for those who don’t know me or appreciate my humor at all.
It is not to say that I’m not a bag of dicks–I probably am. But I accept that, and I have made my peace with that. I’m probably still going to hell in like seven different religions, but I just want to let you all know that if I ever say something that makes you a) uncomfortable, b) offended, or c) just plain distasteful, LET ME KNOW. I will not stab you in the face or run you over ten times with my car. I will apologize and refrain from offending you ever again.
So I’m sorry that I’m bad in social situations. I’m sorry that I often assert my strong opinions. I’m sorry, Christian, if I made you feel sad or if you thought I was rude and crazy (you’re not wrong). I’m sorry friends.
Now excuse me while I set my alarm for 7:30 AM. I have a long day on set tomorrow. Good night~
It is a tiny grape
Isn’t it funny how everything we’re currently being emotional over is literally not going to matter in, say, a month? I remember driving myself insane over particular boys at the start of college and begging to be accepted (although I’d never show it). Looking back now, I just find it silly. These events are like specks of dust on a lamp, and the lamp is my life. Everything until now has seemed like such a waste of emotion, such a waste of time. They were trivial and it’s odd to see that I cared about all of that so recently.
College is a time for growth. I mean spiritually you know? I’m just so much more okay with myself now, and I spend time taking care of myself and not giving a fuck about what others think about me. How I see myself if the only thing that truly matters. As long as I’m happy with who I am, then that’s all there is to it. Success, wealth, friendship, love, that’s all the little bonuses in life when you finally accept yourself as you are. Because how can someone else appreciate you if you don’t appreciate yourself?
Self-confidence isn’t born overnight of course. It’s a gruelling process that takes years to achieve, or maybe even a lifetime–who knows? But a start is better than a stall (a car would second that notion). And I’m pretty proud of myself to be able to say at least that.
There’s nothing wrong with being introspective, or reserved, or a total geek over pop culture that most of the world finds trivial. There’s nothing wrong with not drinking and not being into “normal college stuff” (I mean what even is normal?). I am my own person, my own entity, and I don’t need to be like anyone else.
I will continue to want to be married to a fictional character, and I will continue to feel more emotional over events on a show or in a movie than in real life, probably. I will continue wishing Star Fleet is real, and I will continue to live vicariously through my favorite characters.
I’m seriously happy for the second time in my life.
(The first was Outside Lands 2013)