So I just saw an article about how, due to the weird bloodline of the British monarchy, William and Kate's firstborn child will undoubtedly be the heir to the throne, whether it's a boy or girl.
And this scared me a little. A poor little kid who isn't even born yet, and his/her future is already planned out for him/her. That's got to be unbearable. Imagine having everything decided for you, your life plastered on the cover of magazine tabloids, your name repeated by millions simply because of your bloodline.
And then I thought about Kate. I mean, she probably knew what she was getting into when she married this guy, right? By saying "I do," she kind of... signed her life away. No, that sounds too dramatic. More like, she gave up certain rights and privacies when she put on that dress and got married in front of the world.
Is it too big a price to pay? Maybe she's stronger than I give her credit for. Maybe she knew exactly what she signed up for. Perhaps all the craziness is worth it for the man she married. I really hope that's true. I guess I just worry about the girl, as well as her future child. Maybe celebrity status isn't exactly what it's cracked up to be.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The actor's the thing
I've been thinking a lot about actors. If done right, the business of acting is a beautiful thing. What amazes me sometimes is how an actor can play one role brilliantly, and then another role, equally brilliantly.
Let me give you a more tangible example. I was just staring at a picture of Leslie Knope, and I swear to you, I had to physically remind myself that it was really Amy Poehler behind makeup. I don’t know if it’s just me. Maybe it is. But Leslie Knope is a legitimate person to me, she is not a character. I think of her as an entirely separate life form from Amy. And this happens quite rarely for me. I literally see no traces of Amy in Leslie, or vice versa. When I see Amy acting in other movies/SNL, I never think, “Oh yeah, she plays Leslie Knope.” Amy is just that good. And yes, I realize this is a pretty mundane revelation, but it kind of blows my mind.
And Amy is just one of many actors who can do this. (Mind you, there are an even greater number who can't...) It's just so insane that you can imagine a character from a movie, TV show, etc., and know their background and how they'd react in situations... and then that same actor plays a different character and nothing is the same. Not the clothes they wear, not their bodily movements, not even the inflections in their voices.
I've done a fair share of acting myself, and while I love it, I just don't think I could ever have that factor. That ability to make you not see Neda, but somebody completely different. It's a gift, one that I am wildly jealous of. If you have it, use it. And if you don't... maybe don't quit your day job.
Let me give you a more tangible example. I was just staring at a picture of Leslie Knope, and I swear to you, I had to physically remind myself that it was really Amy Poehler behind makeup. I don’t know if it’s just me. Maybe it is. But Leslie Knope is a legitimate person to me, she is not a character. I think of her as an entirely separate life form from Amy. And this happens quite rarely for me. I literally see no traces of Amy in Leslie, or vice versa. When I see Amy acting in other movies/SNL, I never think, “Oh yeah, she plays Leslie Knope.” Amy is just that good. And yes, I realize this is a pretty mundane revelation, but it kind of blows my mind.
And Amy is just one of many actors who can do this. (Mind you, there are an even greater number who can't...) It's just so insane that you can imagine a character from a movie, TV show, etc., and know their background and how they'd react in situations... and then that same actor plays a different character and nothing is the same. Not the clothes they wear, not their bodily movements, not even the inflections in their voices.
I've done a fair share of acting myself, and while I love it, I just don't think I could ever have that factor. That ability to make you not see Neda, but somebody completely different. It's a gift, one that I am wildly jealous of. If you have it, use it. And if you don't... maybe don't quit your day job.
"Acting deals with very delicate emotions. It is not putting up a mask. Each time an actor acts he does not hide; he exposes himself." - Rodney Dangerfield
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Max
Max, I wish I knew you. I wish I had spoken to you, even just once. It seems like you were a truly amazing person. No one deserves this, but when it happens to someone who was so good, it’s just so confusing and hard to understand.
I’m so sorry. So sorry. I wish there was something I could do. I keep playing these scenarios in my head where I could go back in time and somehow warn you, warn somebody, about what was going to happen this morning. I keep looking at your Facebook profile, at the last few things you posted, the last things you said to your friends, family, and girlfriend. How could you have known? How could anyone have known that your life would end so abruptly, so unnaturally? I hate the universe for doing this to you. It wasn’t your time and it’s not fair. It will never be fair.
I dedicate this precious day of my existence to Max Tinglof, who was taken from us and won’t get to live another day. I dedicate tomorrow to his sister and the next to his parents. It’s right that it rained today. The sky is mourning the loss of a great young man.
I’m so sorry. So sorry. I wish there was something I could do. I keep playing these scenarios in my head where I could go back in time and somehow warn you, warn somebody, about what was going to happen this morning. I keep looking at your Facebook profile, at the last few things you posted, the last things you said to your friends, family, and girlfriend. How could you have known? How could anyone have known that your life would end so abruptly, so unnaturally? I hate the universe for doing this to you. It wasn’t your time and it’s not fair. It will never be fair.
I dedicate this precious day of my existence to Max Tinglof, who was taken from us and won’t get to live another day. I dedicate tomorrow to his sister and the next to his parents. It’s right that it rained today. The sky is mourning the loss of a great young man.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
(1) Facebook
The thing about Facebook profile pictures is that we're all lying to ourselves. Or, otherwise, being douchey Hollywood starlets who blush under the scrutiny of our friends/fans.
"aaah this is so pretty!"
"omg you're gorgeous"
"seriously, stop it, you are too beautiful"
*Julia Roberts laugh* Stop it, guys, I'm not pretty. You're the gorgeous one. *heart, cute smiley face, other various cyber lingo*
Well, excuse me, Ms. Fishing-for-compliments. I guess I had it wrong.
See, I thought you posted this one as your profile picture because you thought you looked good in it. I figured that there was a slew of some 600 other photos on your already cluttered profile, and the fact that you chose this picture to be the one people see when you show up anywhere on the website kind of led me to believe that you thought it was at least remotely a good picture. My mistake.
You do understand that the point of a profile picture is to show people "You." The idealistic you. The photographic summary of what you encapsulate; what makes you TICK. I mean, that's why we all have Facebook profiles, isn't it? To paint a pseudo-realistic portrait of ourselves in the pseudo-realistic place we call the Internet.
I mean, Jesus, you don't even have to think you're beautiful. Fine. But for goodness sake, can you at least just admit that maybe, just MAYBE you look okay in this one shot? Why, WHY, instead of a simple "Thank you!" or "That's very sweet of you to say," do you need to draw attention to the fact that you're an ugly witch with no physically appealing aspirations whatsoever?
You know what? Just once, I would love to see someone put this as the caption under their profile picture.
"Hey everyone, this is my profile picture and I made it my profile picture because it is a good picture and I am celebrating the fact that I actually look good in this one, which doesn't happen very often. So here it is, and feel free to comment but I already know what you're going to say and you already know what my response will be so why don't we just all save each other from the bullshit and the Carpal tunnel and just go about our day? Oh, but if you don't "like" it, I'll get really depressed and act like I have no friends."
That would be great. That would get a standing ovation and a round of applause from me.
Oh and one more thing. If you're reading this thinking, "She's got a point, you know," just remember the fact that I am a giant hypocrite and in about 20 minutes I will log on to Facebook and "modestly" brush off a compliment of how I look in a certain photo. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Hey, pobody's nerfect, right?
"aaah this is so pretty!"
"omg you're gorgeous"
"seriously, stop it, you are too beautiful"
*Julia Roberts laugh* Stop it, guys, I'm not pretty. You're the gorgeous one. *heart, cute smiley face, other various cyber lingo*
Well, excuse me, Ms. Fishing-for-compliments. I guess I had it wrong.
See, I thought you posted this one as your profile picture because you thought you looked good in it. I figured that there was a slew of some 600 other photos on your already cluttered profile, and the fact that you chose this picture to be the one people see when you show up anywhere on the website kind of led me to believe that you thought it was at least remotely a good picture. My mistake.
You do understand that the point of a profile picture is to show people "You." The idealistic you. The photographic summary of what you encapsulate; what makes you TICK. I mean, that's why we all have Facebook profiles, isn't it? To paint a pseudo-realistic portrait of ourselves in the pseudo-realistic place we call the Internet.
I mean, Jesus, you don't even have to think you're beautiful. Fine. But for goodness sake, can you at least just admit that maybe, just MAYBE you look okay in this one shot? Why, WHY, instead of a simple "Thank you!" or "That's very sweet of you to say," do you need to draw attention to the fact that you're an ugly witch with no physically appealing aspirations whatsoever?
You know what? Just once, I would love to see someone put this as the caption under their profile picture.
"Hey everyone, this is my profile picture and I made it my profile picture because it is a good picture and I am celebrating the fact that I actually look good in this one, which doesn't happen very often. So here it is, and feel free to comment but I already know what you're going to say and you already know what my response will be so why don't we just all save each other from the bullshit and the Carpal tunnel and just go about our day? Oh, but if you don't "like" it, I'll get really depressed and act like I have no friends."
That would be great. That would get a standing ovation and a round of applause from me.
Oh and one more thing. If you're reading this thinking, "She's got a point, you know," just remember the fact that I am a giant hypocrite and in about 20 minutes I will log on to Facebook and "modestly" brush off a compliment of how I look in a certain photo. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Hey, pobody's nerfect, right?
Sunday, November 6, 2011
This Thanksgiving, I am homeless.
Every Thanksgiving, my sisters, my parents and I all go to my mom's family's house. They live a couple hours away and we hardly ever see them, but it because of these people that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.
They are such a huge contrast from the other side of family, whom I see all the time. Literally all the time. We all live within 5 blocks of each other. And while I love them to death, I so look forward to seeing my mom's side. They make the traditional Thanksgiving food. They get that this is an all-American holiday deserving of an all-American feast. And not only that, but they are all such loving, wonderful people and I just feel so happy when I'm in the same room as them. I always feel so lucky to be a part of that family during the Thanksgiving nights that we're together.
Needless to say, we won't be going this year. My mom's cousin, who hosts the event at her house, has a daughter who recently got married, so they're all going to her new husband's family's house (take a second to let that sink in.) And that leaves me and my family with few options.
We could:
Sigh. Anyone want to adopt us?
They are such a huge contrast from the other side of family, whom I see all the time. Literally all the time. We all live within 5 blocks of each other. And while I love them to death, I so look forward to seeing my mom's side. They make the traditional Thanksgiving food. They get that this is an all-American holiday deserving of an all-American feast. And not only that, but they are all such loving, wonderful people and I just feel so happy when I'm in the same room as them. I always feel so lucky to be a part of that family during the Thanksgiving nights that we're together.
Needless to say, we won't be going this year. My mom's cousin, who hosts the event at her house, has a daughter who recently got married, so they're all going to her new husband's family's house (take a second to let that sink in.) And that leaves me and my family with few options.
We could:
- Go to my very Persian aunt's house and basically have a Persian dinner.
- Have our own holiday, which would be incredibly awkward and boring, seeing as Thanksgiving revolves around the concept of a big family.
- Go to a restaurant. (We did this a couple years back; it was lonely and sad and desolate and I do not want to do that again.)
Sigh. Anyone want to adopt us?
Work out, shmurk out
Yesterday, I had one of those moments where you just feel overwhelmingly crappy about your body. Like, you feel as though you're whole body is a lump of mushiness and that you're starting to let yourself go.
It is in these types of situations where I get really motivated to start exercising... for a day.
I did the lot: push-ups, lunges, crunches, ab workouts. I even got my sister to hold my feet down while I did sit-ups. (Mind you, I did about three of each thing... I am hardly what you would call "athletic.") Now I'm in the hangover phase, where I am super sore and questioning my reasoning for yesterday's sudden burst of athletic energy. And, as usual in these situations, my brain seems satisfied enough with yesterday's workout session. My mind operates under the idea that I have sustained my body health for long enough, and that another similar workout regime won't be necessary for another... week? month? (a.k.a. the next time I feel like a mushy pile of bleh.)
I promise I don't have any serious body issues. I love my body and I have always had a surprising amount of confidence in my image, which is kind of weird for a teenage Angelino. But sometimes, you just feel gross. (I know other girls will understand.) So, until next time, soreness.
Such a shame. I really felt those abs coming in...
It is in these types of situations where I get really motivated to start exercising... for a day.
I did the lot: push-ups, lunges, crunches, ab workouts. I even got my sister to hold my feet down while I did sit-ups. (Mind you, I did about three of each thing... I am hardly what you would call "athletic.") Now I'm in the hangover phase, where I am super sore and questioning my reasoning for yesterday's sudden burst of athletic energy. And, as usual in these situations, my brain seems satisfied enough with yesterday's workout session. My mind operates under the idea that I have sustained my body health for long enough, and that another similar workout regime won't be necessary for another... week? month? (a.k.a. the next time I feel like a mushy pile of bleh.)
I promise I don't have any serious body issues. I love my body and I have always had a surprising amount of confidence in my image, which is kind of weird for a teenage Angelino. But sometimes, you just feel gross. (I know other girls will understand.) So, until next time, soreness.
Such a shame. I really felt those abs coming in...
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Happy 11/02/2011!
Geddit? Because it's the same backwards and forwards.
If you know me at all, you know I over-think and over-analyze everything. So whenever these iconic dates come up (11/11/11 is next...) I get really freaked out. You always see the cool pattern in the date, and then "You will never see this again in your lifetime."
It is at this point when I start panicking about how short and unpredictably inconclusive life is, and "Death is inescapable" and yada yada yada.
I get jumpy when this kind of stuff is mentioned. Numerology in general is just not my thang.
What can I say? I'm a creature of habit.
If you know me at all, you know I over-think and over-analyze everything. So whenever these iconic dates come up (11/11/11 is next...) I get really freaked out. You always see the cool pattern in the date, and then "You will never see this again in your lifetime."
It is at this point when I start panicking about how short and unpredictably inconclusive life is, and "Death is inescapable" and yada yada yada.
I get jumpy when this kind of stuff is mentioned. Numerology in general is just not my thang.
What can I say? I'm a creature of habit.
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