I’m sitting in the hair parlor today waiting to get muh herr did…

A sweet, eighty something year old dude with a huge cross around his neck walks in and all the ladies greet him with a “hey (Stan?)” …or whatever.
He walks past me once and says to me, “I’ll be with you in a moment”
I’m like…what? Was he talking to me? Did I order a priest online in my sleep? Suspecting that he’s probably just a poor confused old man, I laughed it off awkwardly.
Then he walks back by and says, “sorry, I haven’t gotten my license yet”
Oooh, it was a joke…old people make jokes, I forgot.
Then I laughed. And got a haircut.

Bravely, Bold Sir Robin rode forth from Camalot.

He was not afraid to die, oh brave Sir Robin.

He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways.

Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin.

He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp

Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken

To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away,

And his limbs all hacked and mangled, Brave Sir Robin.

His head smashed in,

and his heart cut out,

and his liver removed,

and bowels unplugged,

and his nostrils raped,

and his bottom burned off,

and his pen—

Making movies…with some pretty cool cats.
Not literal cats. But like people.

… and it’s been really freeing. It has been for almost all of Lent. I was really proud there for a while that I didn’t need it. I began strutting around all high-and-mighty showing people how much of minimalist I can be. Now, in my last couple weeks it’s finally driving me nuts. I keep meeting people I really want to Facebook stalk.

It’s pretty fun to explain it to people though, and see what their reactions are. And since nowadays everyone and their mom has a Facebook, I find it nearly impossible to avoid that conversation.

“Yeah, so you have a Facebook?” “ye…well, kind of…well, not right now…”

“Oh?” “Yeah…I gave it up for Lent”

Then I get one of two responses:

“Oh yeah?! I gave up cheese!” (and I pretend mine isn’t harder to do)

or

“Oh……cool.”  (“please don’t ‘witness’ to me”)

The fact that it’s finally driving me crazy is good for one reason though…It reminds me to depend on Christ.

Jesus (the Spanish one) knew all too well I was going to be boy crazy this month… I really should thank You.

Why do I run after boys so much? Is it because I’m running after love? Or Attention? Or both…I run after guys when I’m single and I run after them when I’m dating someone. It doesn’t matter. And when I say I run after them, I mean I make decisions, small and big, throughout my day based simply on whether I think the certain guy I like will like it. I do things for one guy at one minute, and then the next minute I do something to catch the attention of a different guy. I let these guys control what I do and how I live. And I do it constantly, and so naturally, to the point that I don’t even realize sometimes that I’m doing it. What’s both funny and scary is that I have become what some would probably call an expert at catching a boy’s attention. As soon as I am in the vicinity of a guy that I like, the switch is immediately flipped on and I act all innocent and care-free and funny and caring and cute and smart and everything I want that guy to think I am. It’s absolutely exhausting, it’s time consuming, it’s emotionally draining, and it takes my focus off of God—the one and only guy that deserves all that attention.

So now, in my 21^st year of life, after constantly dating or desperately running after someone since the 8^th grade, I am finally and officially single. God wanted me to be so He could finally have some one-on-one time with me, so He could remind me that He loves me, so He could show me that He’s all I need. I knew He was calling for me, yet I pushed Him away for boy after boy after boy, until I finally just broke, and had to admit that I place all my hope in imperfect, selfish, and destructible men. I’m not saying that everyone I’ve been with has been selfish as can be. I’m saying that these guys aren’t my perfect Savior. They aren’t the One on whom my decisions, small and big, should be based. They won’t last forever. They aren’t the One who is dependable, and indestructible. The One who is love.

Just 2 weeks ago, I broke it off with the last guy I will be dating… for a while. We put each other in front of schoolwork, friends, family, and in front of God. I didn’t admit what God was telling me until five months in, but once I finally let Him take charge of my decisions, I decided to break it off. And you know what? I thought I was going to feel free as a little birdie. And I did. For about a week. But as soon as this new freedom got to my head, I forgot that God wants to be the center of my attention, and I started running after guys again…

(What’s beautiful about it all is that despite my natural tendency to put all these dudes in front of Him, God catches me, forgives me, and tells me He loves me every time. What’s awesome is there is absolutely nothing I can do to make Him love me any less or any more. My imperfections and my dumb obsessions are already completely paid for. He just wanted me to admit it. I know I have a good while to go, but he’s breaking me and healing me little by little.)

…For the past week and a half or so now, I’ve ran after the attention of a couple guys, who shall not be named…both of which are very cute, smart, interesting, love Christ, and are “waiting to date until the right one comes along”. Just my type. I’ve let these two control my days recently, and I’ll see both often, and I try to keep their attention for as long as possible, and I take different routes to classes so I can maybe run into one and I go into the same restaurant more often so I can see the other. It’s never enough. Even if I get a smile from one of them, I’m not satisfied. Even if I share a few words with one of them, I’m still not satisfied. Even if I get to sit and talk a long…you get my point. I’m not satisfied. I will never be…I always leave sad and wanting more.

Here is the most incredible thing of it all…the whole point to all of this:

Once I am exhausted, and defeated, and desperate, and empty again at the end of the day, God calmly and lovingly pulls me close to Him again. And whispers to me “I Am all you need.”

I love when He does that. It makes life worth living.

(couldn’t figure out how to post documents so here’s a few of my sources….wish i could post full books on here.)

http://www.shakespeare-oxford.com/

http://www.free-books.org/shakespeare/EdwardDeVere-17EarlOxford.htm

http://www.authorshipstudies.org/articles/controversy.cfm

http://www.bardweb.net/debates.html

Doing a persuasive speech on William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon not being the true writer of his plays and sonnets. 

As an actor and lover of literature I was very pro Stratford Shakespeare before doing this project. I only chose the opposite side to have a more interesting speech.

Now I believe he didn’t really write them.

Still skeptical? I’ll post my rough outline with all the research. It’s some freaky deaky stuff, ya’ll.

Here’s one interesting theory about this photo, which is the original portrait of Shakespeare on the First Folio: if you look closely at the right side under his jaw and ear, there’s a second line that doesn’t really make sense. It makes an odd gap. This makes head look like it is actually a mask, symbolizing that “Shakespeare” is a mask for the actual writer of his 38 plays an 159 sonnets.

Angora rabbit! That’s what I want for Christmas! Mom…

Get a few and you can make a sweater!

Well, I’m not really sure what to say first…and I will probably delete this thing tomorrow when I read it again, and decide it’s retarted. But hey hey how exciting. I actually have a blog. This is good. Good start right? This feels good. Okay now I’m getting weird.

I love when you’ve forgotten why you enjoy something and then have to teach it to someone else, and it reminds you why you loved it. For instance, I love making movies, love filming and cutting them together, every step of the process. I love it more than almost anything. But lately all my time has been spent on this damn documentary I’m working on with my friend and classmate Christy. (Love documentaries by the way, and would enjoy making a few) But we weren’t given a choice on the topic. It was given to us by a professor who tells us a little about promotional film making (not the same thing) then sends us on our way and expects us to pull off this emotionally driven story with conflicts and resolutions and awesome people with awesome interview answers that pulls at everyone’s heartstrings, about a topic I really have no interest in personally therefore I am in no way motivated to make it, except by the fact that my grade, reputation and opinions of my professors are at stake. That’s when it is no longer art, and I have to start finding ways to make it exciting for myself. 

It’s made me despise the editing process the past few weeks, because I’m sick of looking at all the same crap over and over that I didn’t even want to film in the first place. And it’s one of my favorite things about filmnmaking. And right now I hate it.

Anyway, tonight I got a chance to teach someone else who has little knowledge of editing a few shortcuts and tricks with it…and like a weight being lifted off my back I remembered why editing is like magic to a filmmaker. (I kind of stole that from Walter Murch) And beautiful. And is where I make the sculpture out of my pieces of clay.

If you’ve forgotten how to love something you love, teach someone else about it and see how it makes you feel.