le meme chose
I'm it. melissa_tlc tagged me. She seems to think I’ll fill out this meme. Ha! As if I have the time for memes! I’m extraordinarily busy here at work, drinking my coffee and surfing through LJ!
10 years ago: Summer after sophomore year in college. I was midway through my first ever New York City experience, living on like $0.50 per day so that I could attend the Circle in the Square theatre school. It was magical - being in the city, being on my own, being an actress. It was also the first time in my life I ever questioned that acting was what I wanted to do - some classes within the acting program had a distinctly Trelawneyesque quality to them. We were just supposed to FEEL IT. BE IN THE MOMENT. BE HONEST. Often, little other guidance was given. And though it is excellent guidance… it’s not enough. Sometimes students were so in the moment and honest that they just didn’t bother to say their lines! Wow! That’s honest all right! But it’s also crappy theatre. Among many other things that made me roll my eyes, we did a “visualization” exercise where we sat with our eyes closed for like half an hour and peeled an imaginary orange, trying to make it “sensorally real.” I sat there peeling nothing, feeling fairly stupid, and my teacher asked at one point, “Can you smell it? Can you taste it?” and I said, “Uh, no.” (Gasps of horror from the class!) But that was the minority of the experience. In many ways, it was an awesome program.
5 years ago: Well, on July 8, 2000, I picked up my copy of GoF and met Zsenya for the first time. In August, 2000… I was… working as a receptionist for a Broadway theatre company, only I wasn’t really working. Oh, I answered the calls. But I did it mindlessly. My entire brain had been eaten, zombie style, by Harry Potter; specifically I was engrossed in writing HQoW 1.
1 year ago: August of last year, August of last year… I finished a book. And I won’t say anything else, because JKR’s comment (about writers who talk about their writing and don’t actually write) has successfully made me feel self-conscious about talking about my writing.
Yesterday: Wow, I was… pretty boring. I worked my desk shift at the dojo… I went home and wrote a little… I Skyped (www.skype.com - so cool) with BBennett… I consulted the first chapters of OotP yet again… I wrote some more… I ate a sleeve of crackers… I watched half of Shaun of the Dead (for the 87 millionth time)… I made some phone calls for work… I drank a Baileys on the rox… I read a bunch of crax on the Internet… and I talked on the phone with everlastingwhy until I fell asleep. And then I had a weird dream about going on a date with this guy who was dying, because I was trying to make him feel better. Huh.
Tomorrow: Work. Oh joy. I may spontaneously combust with rapture.
5 snacks I enjoy: Mozzarella/basil/tomato. Diet Coke. Olives (the good kind, not the canned kind). Coffee. Twizzlers.
5 bands/artists that I know the lyrics to most of their songs: U2. Ani DiFranco. Other than that… most of their songs? Hell… I don’t know, I like a potpourri of music. Does music from Disney movies count? Because I know most of that. Does Sondheim count? I know most of that. And all of R.E.N.T. Most musicals, actually. And I know the entire Hogwarts song. By heart. Oh! And Tom Petty. And Cake. And Rob Dougan. And (SHUT UP!) Okay.
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: A hundred million space bucks! Um… can I have a spaceship? No? Well then, I’d get a bunch of film equipment and make crappy yet hilarious independent films with my friends. I’d buy an enormous old broken down castle in the middle of some beautiful green countryside and set up my artistic friends with easels and writing utensils and whatever else they needed. I’d retire my mom and dad somewhere gorgeous, five steps from a giant golf course. I’d get my sister the house by the sea that she wants. I’d finance my brother to do whatever it is that he decides to do. I'd pay for everything the SQ could possibly need. I'd buy a gorgeous katana. I'd travel everywhere. I’d never go to work for anyone else again; no one would ever, ever own a single second of my time. I’d just write. And I’d give a lot of it to literacy charities. I cannot imagine not being able to read. Can’t even imagine it.
5 locations I would like to run away to: Hogwarts, Alderaan (pre-Death Star), Rivendell, Green Gables, Pemberley. Oh, you mean real places. Um… I like New York. London. Venice. Greece. Alaska.
5 bad habits I have: Doing crap like this when I’m at work. Spilling my guts. Eating/drinking when I’m bored or nervous. Making pterodactyl noises in public (waves at bbennett). Being rough on myself when I fail.
5 things I like doing: Writing, laughing, absorbing a great story in any medium, seeing people I love, visiting places I love.
5 things I will never wear: string bikini (word UP, melissa_tlc - neither would I, EVER), something with which a bra cannot be worn (sigh - word again), neon orange (unless it says Chudley Cannons on it), stilettos, buttless chaps.
5 TV shows I like(d): FIREFLY! And OMG Serenity is COMING OUT (smaxes hand over mouth and shuts up). The X-Files (the truth was out there, Chris, you moron). Absolutely Fabulous. The Simpsons. Seinfeld.
5 movies I like: Shaun of the Dead. Persuasion. Pride and Prejudice (the 6 part BBC version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth; all the other versions can go sux it.) Star Wars (all of them. Yes, I said all of them.) Dangerous Liaisons.
5 people I'd like to meet: I’d like to meet a bunch of people who have made me laugh and think harder both on LJ and the Quill. Way more than 5 people, though.
5 biggest joys at the moment: HBP, my air conditioner, my writing, my friends, my sister.
5 favorite toys: Laptop, The Bookie (HBP), Xbox, iPod, my collection of enormous and chintzy five-dollar earrings.
5 tagged: Like Melissa said, what five people have blogs they update, read this one, and would be willing to do it? Who would do it? I have no idea. Maybe doctoraicha, bbennett, spin1978, everlastingwhy...? That's not even five. But I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them did this. They are probably actually busy.
In other news, one of my colleagues stumbed in this morning with my copy of HBP, which I lent her last week (because I knew I could hijack my sister’s), and laid it on my desk and said, “Oh, I cried. And cried. And cried. I haven’t cried like that for a book since I read The Outsiders. Don’t make fun of me.”
Like I ever would.
10 years ago: Summer after sophomore year in college. I was midway through my first ever New York City experience, living on like $0.50 per day so that I could attend the Circle in the Square theatre school. It was magical - being in the city, being on my own, being an actress. It was also the first time in my life I ever questioned that acting was what I wanted to do - some classes within the acting program had a distinctly Trelawneyesque quality to them. We were just supposed to FEEL IT. BE IN THE MOMENT. BE HONEST. Often, little other guidance was given. And though it is excellent guidance… it’s not enough. Sometimes students were so in the moment and honest that they just didn’t bother to say their lines! Wow! That’s honest all right! But it’s also crappy theatre. Among many other things that made me roll my eyes, we did a “visualization” exercise where we sat with our eyes closed for like half an hour and peeled an imaginary orange, trying to make it “sensorally real.” I sat there peeling nothing, feeling fairly stupid, and my teacher asked at one point, “Can you smell it? Can you taste it?” and I said, “Uh, no.” (Gasps of horror from the class!) But that was the minority of the experience. In many ways, it was an awesome program.
5 years ago: Well, on July 8, 2000, I picked up my copy of GoF and met Zsenya for the first time. In August, 2000… I was… working as a receptionist for a Broadway theatre company, only I wasn’t really working. Oh, I answered the calls. But I did it mindlessly. My entire brain had been eaten, zombie style, by Harry Potter; specifically I was engrossed in writing HQoW 1.
1 year ago: August of last year, August of last year… I finished a book. And I won’t say anything else, because JKR’s comment (about writers who talk about their writing and don’t actually write) has successfully made me feel self-conscious about talking about my writing.
Yesterday: Wow, I was… pretty boring. I worked my desk shift at the dojo… I went home and wrote a little… I Skyped (www.skype.com - so cool) with BBennett… I consulted the first chapters of OotP yet again… I wrote some more… I ate a sleeve of crackers… I watched half of Shaun of the Dead (for the 87 millionth time)… I made some phone calls for work… I drank a Baileys on the rox… I read a bunch of crax on the Internet… and I talked on the phone with everlastingwhy until I fell asleep. And then I had a weird dream about going on a date with this guy who was dying, because I was trying to make him feel better. Huh.
Tomorrow: Work. Oh joy. I may spontaneously combust with rapture.
5 snacks I enjoy: Mozzarella/basil/tomato. Diet Coke. Olives (the good kind, not the canned kind). Coffee. Twizzlers.
5 bands/artists that I know the lyrics to most of their songs: U2. Ani DiFranco. Other than that… most of their songs? Hell… I don’t know, I like a potpourri of music. Does music from Disney movies count? Because I know most of that. Does Sondheim count? I know most of that. And all of R.E.N.T. Most musicals, actually. And I know the entire Hogwarts song. By heart. Oh! And Tom Petty. And Cake. And Rob Dougan. And (SHUT UP!) Okay.
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: A hundred million space bucks! Um… can I have a spaceship? No? Well then, I’d get a bunch of film equipment and make crappy yet hilarious independent films with my friends. I’d buy an enormous old broken down castle in the middle of some beautiful green countryside and set up my artistic friends with easels and writing utensils and whatever else they needed. I’d retire my mom and dad somewhere gorgeous, five steps from a giant golf course. I’d get my sister the house by the sea that she wants. I’d finance my brother to do whatever it is that he decides to do. I'd pay for everything the SQ could possibly need. I'd buy a gorgeous katana. I'd travel everywhere. I’d never go to work for anyone else again; no one would ever, ever own a single second of my time. I’d just write. And I’d give a lot of it to literacy charities. I cannot imagine not being able to read. Can’t even imagine it.
5 locations I would like to run away to: Hogwarts, Alderaan (pre-Death Star), Rivendell, Green Gables, Pemberley. Oh, you mean real places. Um… I like New York. London. Venice. Greece. Alaska.
5 bad habits I have: Doing crap like this when I’m at work. Spilling my guts. Eating/drinking when I’m bored or nervous. Making pterodactyl noises in public (waves at bbennett). Being rough on myself when I fail.
5 things I like doing: Writing, laughing, absorbing a great story in any medium, seeing people I love, visiting places I love.
5 things I will never wear: string bikini (word UP, melissa_tlc - neither would I, EVER), something with which a bra cannot be worn (sigh - word again), neon orange (unless it says Chudley Cannons on it), stilettos, buttless chaps.
5 TV shows I like(d): FIREFLY! And OMG Serenity is COMING OUT (smaxes hand over mouth and shuts up). The X-Files (the truth was out there, Chris, you moron). Absolutely Fabulous. The Simpsons. Seinfeld.
5 movies I like: Shaun of the Dead. Persuasion. Pride and Prejudice (the 6 part BBC version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth; all the other versions can go sux it.) Star Wars (all of them. Yes, I said all of them.) Dangerous Liaisons.
5 people I'd like to meet: I’d like to meet a bunch of people who have made me laugh and think harder both on LJ and the Quill. Way more than 5 people, though.
5 biggest joys at the moment: HBP, my air conditioner, my writing, my friends, my sister.
5 favorite toys: Laptop, The Bookie (HBP), Xbox, iPod, my collection of enormous and chintzy five-dollar earrings.
5 tagged: Like Melissa said, what five people have blogs they update, read this one, and would be willing to do it? Who would do it? I have no idea. Maybe doctoraicha, bbennett, spin1978, everlastingwhy...? That's not even five. But I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them did this. They are probably actually busy.
In other news, one of my colleagues stumbed in this morning with my copy of HBP, which I lent her last week (because I knew I could hijack my sister’s), and laid it on my desk and said, “Oh, I cried. And cried. And cried. I haven’t cried like that for a book since I read The Outsiders. Don’t make fun of me.”
Like I ever would.