Thoughts from the Week that Started on May 19th, 2009

My Dear Reader,

With everything that is going on in my life this week, I found it nearly impossible to write my regular one-topic, longer-than-my-Madre-would-like post. Instead, enjoy some vignette posts of the things I've been thinking about in the past seven days:

I love my family. I love my crazy, crowded, musical Angl0-Italian side just as much as I love my quiet, reserved, homey Anglo-Irish side. My two sides are so different, but I learn a lot from that, especially when it comes to balance. Being with my huge-and-crazy side these past few weeks has really helped heal the pain of unemployment, and I feel a lot more sure that I have a purpose in this world, even though still I don't know what it is. By the way, I've finally gotten all the cousins who were born when I was at college to remember my name, which makes a big difference.

I would move to California permanently if it weren't for California's economy, laws, and government. Maybe in a few years after things bottom out. I'm the kind of person who has a hard time feeling like she belongs anywhere, but Sacramento is the exception. I love the diversity, the heat, and knowing where things are! 

The only things I like about Oregon are the lack of sales tax and the people who I know there. Everything else sucks. 

After some time and a lot of deep breathing, I've gotten over the new Star Trek movie and how mad it made me. I'm actually really glad that it is doing so darn well in the box office. I also realized how ironic it is that Star Trek: Enterprise, the worst Star Trek series by far, is the only show that wasn't completely screwed up by the new movie. Trust me; it's hilarious.

Editing wedding videos is awesome! I'm really starting to get the hang of it, which is great, because just a few short weeks ago I felt completely overwhelmed. I have to buy a Mac for the job, which created more stir when I posted about it on Facebook than just about anything: eight comments. I've been using my uncle's Mac while I've been staying with him (including when I typed this). I still like PCs better, but it will be nice to have anything other than my 2003 broken laptop. 

Two of my good friends are due to give birth the same day my baby sister is getting married: Friday. It's way too much for my brain to process. Anne Hathaway should star in a movie about this, but I'll only let her if Kate Hudson is banned from the set. 

According to my nine-year-old cousin, I'm really good at talking to kids in a way that doesn't bore them to tears. It was probably one of the best compliments ever.

Okay, so I'm still not over the fact that my sister is getting married on Friday.

Regards, best wishes, and the variety of life,

-Cecily Jane

You May Now Call Me . . . "The Edi-TOR!"

My Dear Reader,

I am extremely pleased to announce that in the past seven days, I have not only acquired a vocation (as in . . . gainful employment), but I have finally settled on my pro-wrestling name.

Both achievements required a lot of skill and took a lot, lot more time than I would have liked. A college educated person such as myself should have gotten a wrestling name years ago:

Announcer: AAAAANND in this corner, weighing a number of pounds and hailing from the green, green valleys of the beaver state--The Edi-TOR!

Cecily/The Editor: GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRR!! 

[PetiteSoeur, if you are reading this, please go get Madre, as she has probably collapsed somewhere in a heap of laughter. A heap of it.]

You see, I left my university with a degree in English. If you have ever been or ever plan on being an English major, you have probably encountered several conversations that go like this:

Non-English Major: So, you presume to be an English major, do you not? 

English Major: [rolls eyes] Yes.

Non-English Major: Well, since I believe that field of study to be completely useless, vocationally speaking, I will assume therefore that you desire the profession of teaching.

English Major: [grinds teeth] No. If I wanted to be a teacher, I'd be an English teaching major. They're separate.

Non-English Major: [adjusts monocle] Well then, do you plan on living on the streets?

English Major: Actually, I'm using my major to prepare me for being a screenwriter/author/editor/copy writer/copy editor/journalist/publisher/grad or law student/well-educated person/etc. 

Non-English Major: Ah.

Generally, when people asked me what I planned in doing/what I could ever possibly do with my major, I would pick option E, copy editor. This was my short-term, super-sensible option. On other occasions, I would tell them about my long-term/almost impossible option, which would be option B, author. When I left college, I planned on pursuing both--finishing my novel (HA!) while trying to find an editing job. Unfortunately, for my circumstances, there were no editing jobs to be found. Sad day for Cecily Jane.

Fast forward to an unspecified number of months later (I'm not embarrassed to tell you my age [23], but I will barely admit the time I spent unemployed to myself), and I found out that my uncle, who is one of the best wedding videographers in the country, wanted to hire me as . . . ta DA! an editor. But not the kind of editor that tell you that you can't form my previous sentence the way I just formed it--a video editor. Essentially, he shoots the weddings, loads the video on a hard drive, and mails the hard drive to me. I, in turn, edit the video and send it back to him. It's a pretty sweet gig, if I say so myself. I knew practically nothing about video editing when I got the job, so for the past week I've been staying with my uncle in California learning the art of wedding films. I'll be here until the end of the month, then will be turned loose just in time for PetiteSoeur's wedding. 

So finally, after years of rudely correcting the grammar of people I despise, I have become an actual, bona fide, paid editor. It's a horse of a different color, but it's a horse, and I have decided that this makes me victorious.

Now I just have to figure out how to get that championship belt.

Regards, best wishes, and gainful employment,

-Cecily Jane

I Hate You, J. J. Abrahms

My Dear Reader,

I'm crushed.

As a hard core Star Trek fan, I was really worried about the latest movie, but I tried to get past my reservations and started looking forward to it. Ever since the last Star Trek series was prematurely cancelled and the movie before that didn't do so well, a lot of people were saying that the franchise, which had been going on for the past 40 years, was dying. This new movie was supposed to bring it back to life. It was supposed to modernize it and let it reach out to people who hadn't seen Star Trek before, two things I very much approved of. But it turned out that instead of revitalizing the franchise, the new movie has put a stake in the heart of 40 years of stories with Kirk, Picard, and the rest. Because if this movie, Star Trek is not only dead--it never existed. It's just so dissapointing, because instead of getting people interested with the series again, perhaps motivating people to watch the old shows, this movie makes every ounce of Star Trek before it moot. I'm sure it's great for the writers, because they now get to play in the universe and do pretty much anything they want. It just sucks big time for anyone who cared about the franchise before May 7th, 2009

I'm not just crushed; I'm livid.

Without telling you the details of the plot, I'll say that certain characters go back in time and change history in a way that means that the mythology created in over 700 episodes and 10 movies that made up Star Trek could never happen. If you're not a hard core fan, you may not realize how big of a deal that is. Let me put it to you this way: what if J. K. Rowling decided to revise her novels, making Harry Potter die in the first five pages so that Neville Longbottom became the main protagonist? I mean a complete and total revision, where the previous version was taken off the shelves and only the new draft was considered the "real story." Yeah, not sure how I'd feel about that, either.

The most frustrating thing was that I thouroughly enjoyed the majority of the movie. It was updated, and they had recast some characters, but it had the Star Trek feel. It was funny and gave us an insight into favorite characters that we hadn't seen. It could have fit in perfectly with the rest of the franchise if they had just tried to fix the large changes in history that were made. It looked like they were going to do it, too, and when it got to the final credits and no one did any temporal correcting, my blood started boiling. Why didn't they go back and fix it? If you woke up one day and you found out that someone had gone back in time to make Nazi Germany win World War II, would you just roll over and go back to sleep? That's kind of what the characters in the new movie did. It's infuriating.

All they had to do to was add a few lines of dialogue at the very end, perhaps in a scene after the credits, that suggests that they are going to try to go back and stop the time-traveling stuff before it starts. I mean, a hint would be enough to satisfy me. It's so easy to do that I can even write the dialogue myself. There are so many ways to do it, but I've come up with three:

Version 1

Scotty: [running up to Ambassador Spock] Ambassador?
Ambassador Spock: [turns to face Scotty] Yes?
Scotty: I know this might sound a wee bit crazy, but I think I found a way to stop that Nero from ever coming here in the first place.
Ambassador Spock: [raises an eyebrow] Fascinating.

Version 2

Ambassador Spock: Excuse me, Montgomery Scott?

Scotty: [turns] Aye, sir.

Ambassador Spock: I find myself in need of your assistance.

Scotty: [smiles] For the man who got me out of that ____-hole of a station? Anything.

Ambassador: Excellent. Mr. Scott, in the future you will create an ingenious formula that enables a specific mode of transport. I would like you to help me recreate it.

Scotty: Sure, what kind of transport?

Ambassador Spock: Time travel.

Scotty: Fascinating.

Version 3

[Title Card reads "129 years later . . ."]

(Scene: In the capital city of the planet Romulus)

Ambassador Spock: Praetor, I know it may seem . . . illogical to you, but I insist that it be done.

Romulan Praetor: And you cannot explain yourself, Ambassador?

Ambassador Spock: I would appreciate it as a personal favor.

Romulan Praetor: [nods] As you wish. I will make sure this citizen--Nero, you call him? I'll make sure that he is reassigned from his post on the mining vessel to a place where he will be unable to cause any trouble. Remus, perhaps.

Ambassador Spock: [bows head] I am most grateful.

See? It's not that hard. They could have easily tacked on a thirty-second scene at the end. I mean, they spend the whole fourth movie in 1986 because Scotty figured out out how using the Sun's gravitational field as slingshot could let the Enterprise take them there. It was the third time they'd done it. I mean, come on!

Oh, right. Those episodes no longer matter.

If you're not a big fan, you probably still don't get why I'm so upset about it. In fact, you'll probably really enjoy the movie. So go ahead, enjoy it. Don't mind me; I'm just living in a world where the Gestapo runs the postal service.

Regards, best wishes, and a sequel that clears all of this up to my satisfaction,

-Cecily Jane

P.S. In case you didn't click on that link above, here it is again. It's a post that I wrote two years ago about why something like this shouldn't happen. I wish I had been wrong.

Drama, Drama, Drama

My Dear Reader,

I suppose that you could say that as the daughter of an actress and the grand daughter of a theater director, I have a definite flare for the dramatic. It's certainly true that I love good stories, the best having a mix of passion and conflict that gives great insight into the human condition. One of my favorite things in this world is a good, dramatic story, whether it's in the form of a poem, a play, a book, a movie, or even a song. When I was young, I used to take the dramatic elements from my favorite stories and pretend that I was in the middle of it, that I was another character in the mix. I have found over time, however, that most of the dramatic elements you read or watch in a story are best left to fiction.

I'm in kind of a strange set of circumstances right now. I graduated from college and am trying to start a career at the worst time for careers since 1929. In the mean time, I go to church in a congregation that is composed, by design, of single adults ages eighteen to thirty. I was in a similar congregation in Utah, when vast the majority of us were all going to the same college or at least some college, but here the personal circumstances of my churchmates are as varied as they can be. Some are going to the local community college. Some are teachers, accountants, and in other very noble professions. Some are recently divorced and are trying to put their lives back together. Some have yet to get their lives together in the first place. I stand in the middle of it all, having no idea where my life will end up and, even worse, not really knowing where I want it to go. I can't help thinking that the whole scenario would make for a great BBC mini-series, especially if we all wore Victorian costumes and described ourselves as "ill-used" or "in distress." Let me tell you, there's plenty of story in here to fill up the time, and I've been an unwilling part of it all.

For example, let's say that this mini-series starts out where the Heroine falls on an unfortunate circumstance, such as losing a job or being unable to find one. Heroine feels lonely and hopeless until along comes Friend 1, who invites Heroine to several social activities and introduces her to Friend 2 and Friend 3. The four people start to form a group, spending time together on a regular basis, until Friend 1 leaves to go back to college and Friend 4 and Friend 5 come back from the same institution. While the Heroine is still trying to find her way back on her feet, she starts finding out things that begin to change the very good social arrangement that she has.

It turns out that Friend 4 and Friend 2 suffer from mild mental illnesses such as depression or bi-polar disorder. In addition, Friend 3 just got out of a very, very unfortunate and heart-wrenching relationship, while Friend 5 is almost buckling from extra pressure from her place of work. At the same time, Heroine finds out that both Friend 3 and Friend 4 have romantic feelings for her, though she doesn't reciprocate them, and Friend 1, the person that Heroine actually has feelings for, has started dating Friend 5 long distance. And if the fact that Friends 3 and 4 have started fighting over the Heroine isn't enough, into the pot comes Friend 6, who helps the Heroine get over her hurt feelings from Friend 1 by liking her back. Of course, since they all care about each other, the Heroine feels guilty about dating the guy she likes because she knows it will hurt Friends 3 and 4, who are both emotionally unstable and would be very hurt by Heroine's decisions. It seems that whatever the Heroine does, most everyone will be upset at her, and if she does nothing, everything will just get worse.

So that's the kind of story that I'm living in now. Of course, I fictionalized the above account enough to avoid putting anyone I know into a box, and I can tell you that I've played more than one character in the whole mess. I wish I hadn't. As much as I love reading twisted plots from Dickens or Austen, I find that getting tangled up in all of this drama has been distracting me from figuring out where I'm supposed to go. I wish I could edit this drama like I would one of my stories, going back and deleting some of the careless things I've said as well as some of the poor choices I've made. Sometimes I just wish I could take myself out of the story altogether, and put me instead in a story where I have obstacles that I understand and a clear goal that I can achieve.

It's true that what's happening isn't exactly the stuff of legends or great epics. No one in my story has so much as a bad intention, and I'm sure I'll look back at this some day and think that my present feelings are very petty. Something I've learned, though, is that while we're all the authors of our own destinies, we're authors that don't have a privilege of revision. We can't go back and change what we've written, and as our stories collide with those of other authors, we often find our choices ending in unexpected consequences that we couldn't have foreseen.

I just wish that I could do what I normally do when I read a book: flip to the end and read the last few lines to make sure that it all turns out okay. Truth be told, it's always the end of the story that matters, and after I've analyzed my story like my literature teachers taught me, I hope that I have the ability to make this end well. Here's to hoping.

Regards, best wishes, and peaceful days,

-Cecily Jane