Metafiction

It is an underlying principle of my life that stories have great meaning.  John Green clearly agrees with me:

This note, from his successful novel The Fault in Our Stars, pretty much summarizes how I felt every time one of my students would ask if something we read was based on a true story.

I partially blame Hollywood.  The fantastic phrasing "based on real events" and "inspired by the amazing true story" have led people to believe that the only thing worth seeing, reading, knowing is what really happened.

But, as we all know, there is no "what really happened."  You hear it in many different iterations, and one of my favorites has always been that there are three versions to every story: yours, theirs, and the truth.

How does one capture truth?  More importantly, why does one try?

One of my very favorite movies ever is "based on a true story."  Remeber the Titans chronicles the journey of a high school football team as they undergo the painful and difficult process of racial integration.  It is a spectacularly made film and one that has always resonated with me because of that and because of its message.

One day, after watching an interview with the actual coach of the team, I thought it would be fun to find out how accurately the movie portrayed the events.  I found several websites (like this one) indicating that the screenwriter created several characters from thin air and mostly exaggerated the racial tension between the players.  Which is basically the point of the film.

So, did I give up on the film and decide it was worthless?  No.  I didn't even feel put-out that the film wasn't accurate.  If I had wanted to know what race relations were like in the 1970s, I could have watched a documentary, read a textbook, or asked a family member.

The point is that I found the story compelling because it was a well-told story.  Just because it didn't happen this way doesn't mean it couldn't have.  Just because someone decided to stretch the truth to make something powerful and meaningful doesn't mean you shouldn't see it as powerful and meaningful.

Because being real is far less important than being meaningful.

(ok, I'll step off my soapbox now...)

A book is a portable kind of magic

--Stephen King

#staymarried, etc.

This is not what you would call a "happy" post

It's funny how a memory can sneak up on you when you least expect it.  Last night, I dreamt about my brother, who died suddenly when I was 18.  (spoiler alert: he died in the dream, too)

In my dream, he was lounging in a pickup truck (it wasn't actually him, but the person in the pickup truck morphed into him at some point; you know how dreams go) in one part of my dream.  And then I walked around a pool, surrounded by family and friends (think Troop Beverly Hills (If you've seen it, you know what I mean)) and was horrified to see a body floating facedown in it, legs well below the surface, clearly dead.  He was dressed in a white tank top and gray lounging pants, the way I remember him best, and he was being held up by his good friend, who was dressed in a black T-shirt.

I screamed, "Who is it?" and it seemed that everyone else already knew.  It was the friend who finally said, "It's Alex," and though I knew it would be, I felt my heart sink into my stomach and woke up sobbing with the same deep, heavy feeling I had almost ten years ago when I had actually discovered his body.

I sobbed my way toward the bathroom, and because it was just a few minutes before my alarm clock, I continued my sobbing through my morning routine.  Through brushing my teeth, putting dinner in the crockpot (maybe that's why I forgot the lid and it ended up looking like some half-raw monster), and getting dressed.  I sobbed so much that even 15 minutes later, when I had finally calmed down, my husband got one quick look at me and said, "wow, you cried a lot." (but at least he had the grace not to use his favorite term: "ugly crying")

My uncovered crockpot dinner.  I'm convinced it could have been fantastic...

By now, you've realized that this post isn't for you, dear reader.  This post is for me, and I wrote it because I spent all day yesterday thinking about my brother.  Not his laughing face or his sense of humor, but his lifeless body.

Truly, this post isn't for him, either.  When I think of my brother, I remember him sitting on the front porch with an entire summer's day in front of him; I remember him pretending a hose was his penis while he sprayed me with his "pee"; I remember him actually throwing a urine-filled balloon at me, which was hysterical, albeit traumatic.  I remember the bad, too: the tequila night, when he was so drunk he almost broke my arm; the years we used a club lock on our cars so he wouldn't steal them; the day he pawned my (father's) laptop with the first novel I had ever written on it.

Alex and my sister, Lauren, with her new car.  Sadly, the Alero is no longer with us, either.

But, this dream was not about any of that.  This dream was about me and my feelings.  The reason I was even more upset to find that the dead person in the pool was Alex was because in a moment when I feared the worst could happen, I realized it already had.  Perhaps this is most true for those who have sustained traumatic loss, but when I imagine a worst-case scenario, I'm extra leery because I know how easily it can become a reality.  And, as I learned last night, I know that it never really goes away.

In the end, there's value in having these memories, no matter how painful, pop up.  They make you stop, analyze, remember.  They make us remember that with pain, there is healing.  They put us on guard for what could happen and, if we're looking at them as an opportunity rather than a burden, appreciate the value of what we have a little more.

This is not what you would call a "happy" post, but I did warn you...

"Keep some sorrow in your hearts and minds,

for the things that die before their time."

-Counting Crows

Pixel Scrapper

As someone who has scrapbooked for years (including during high school, before they actually made materials for it), I found a problem when I moved out of my Mom's--I moved away from my supplies!  My mom, bless her, kept my sister and me well-stocked with essentials and more.  She even created a Scrap Room (which we lovingly dubbed "The Crap Room").

So, when I was cut off from my resources, I was faced with a dilemma: how would I continue my scrapbooking obsession?  I came to the conclusion that I could scan in a lot of my mom's stuff and then digitally scrapbook.  I tried several times to make this work before resorting to using pre-made online templates which were nice but not unique and not my own.

Then I discovered pixelscrapper.com.  An online scrapping community, Pixel Scraper has a ton of materials, and they give you a free download a day, which is more generous than a lot of sites.  I was going like this for awhile before I discovered the "Outdoors Assets."  When I saw this, I realized I needed more than one download a day.  I needed them all.

So, I became a "patron" of the site.  For $10 a month, I receive unlimited downloads of some of the most amazing elements for some of my favorite pages.  I use Microsoft Publisher (I know a lot of people are more into Photoshop, but Publisher is simpler to use) and I am able to complete pages in minutes rather than hours.  I do sometimes miss the therapeutic aspect of actually gluing something to a page, but much less than I would have thought.  Mostly, I find great satisfaction in being able to actually keep up with archiving the many photos I take.

I strongly recommend Pixel Scrapper.  Below are some of my favorite pages, created mostly or entirely with elements from the site.  Feel free to visit and poke around yourself!

(click here)

Ah, friends, it has been so long.  In the months since I've written, I've started a new job which brings me back to old stomping grounds, Arlington International Racecourse.  I missed the atmosphere and the people, and I'm now relishing the fact that I have a not-so-grown-up grown-up job.  I mean, seriously, who gets to work at a place that looks like this?

The more I get into my position (Guest Services & Expo Event Manager), the more I realize that it's a bit like Disney, which is just the way my bosses want it.  So, technically, I work for Disney.  Awesome sauce.

No, I'm not delusional.  I know that I don't actually work at Disney.  But, I'm getting a lot of advice from that amazing empire.  It started with web searches and has blossomed with this book from the Disney Institute.

Of course, Pinterest is helping greatly, too, as there are many resources there for customer service basics, team-building, and the much-needed workplace humor.  My Pinterest board strives to be a combination of them all!

I'm also falling back on my own experiences and the experiences of people around me.  So, I have to ask, what keeps you coming back to an entertainment venue again and again?  (love research!)

F this, I'm going to Hogwarts

Maybe you've seen this ^ tagline before, or maybe you haven't.  I have always really enjoyed it when I've seen it on T-shirts or Facebook memes, but it had extra weight when I was in Orlando last month for work.  Because Orlando, while it is lacking in many things, has become the recent home of Hogwarts.

Long story short, I have had a love affair with Harry Potter since I was 13 years old.  I still listen to the audiobooks when I clean some times, and I have mastered just about every Sporcle quiz there is on the topic.

So, when work was overwhelmingly crappy, I said, "F this, I'm going to Hogwarts," and that's exactly what I did.  The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal was a dream come true.  I literally got to go to Hogwarts (secretly ask for the Castle Tour, and you will get to tour Hogwarts through the express lane, but you have to bypass the ride at the end).  I strolled through the quaint village of Hogsmeade and then switched over to the other park for some shopping in the wizards' mall, Diagon Alley.

Dream.  Come.  True.

On another--yet related--note, I recently decided to throw myself a spectacular 28th birthday party (this is a long-standing tradition) complete with Whirlyball and party bus.  It is basically a repeat of the birthday party I threw for Kevin when he turned 25.  So, how to differentiate the two?

This is where that somewhat related note comes into play.  I was having a much-needed drink with my friend Ann Voss the other day when we decided that a great time to finish our meagerly started Harry Potter movie marathon (we only got through 1 3/4 of the films) was early in the day before my party.

Ann suggested, “We could do Harry Potter all day and then your party at night.”

That’s when it happened: magic.  Those words sparked an amazing idea.  Why not make ALL day Harry Potter?  Why not make the 28 is Great birthday party into a Harry Potter party?

Now, I don’t want you to blame Ann.  She was responsible for sparking the idea, but she could not have anticipated the madness that would follow and to which all attendees would be subjected. 

No longer would we be playing Whirlyball; we would be playing Quidditch.  No longer would we be riding in a party bus; we would be hitching a ride on the Hogwarts Express. 

And so, I began scouring the internet for ideas, formulating a few of my own, and planning an all-out Harry Potter birthday party for a 28 year-old.  28.  Yes, I realize how ridiculous that is.

But, I also realize that this is a time when magic is a little harder to come by than it was when I was 13 and reading Harry by any light and at any time (my original books still bear food marks from when I read through dinner).  

And, really, we could all use a little magic in our lives. 

Favorite Folks

Hello all!  I have missed you!  It has been a crazy couple of weeks at work, and I am so glad that I have some time now to devote to my "happy space."

Today, I am introducing a segment I'm calling "Favorite Folks."  I am the kind of person who attaches to an artist and delves deeply into his or her work.  This applies mostly to my love of writers and singers, but it also applies to painters, actors, and more.

When I first started on Pinterest, I found this amazing cartoon that bascally describes me perfectly.

I showed it to my husband, who snorted at how appropriate it was.  Then, I clicked on the photo and found the original page (luckily, it took me to the cartoonist's page instead of a random tumblr account).

 

It was then that I discovered an amazing artist named Cathy Thorne, who runs Everyday People Cartoons.  These are not all laugh-out-loud funny, but they are entirely relatable.  I really enjoyed looking through them, and I hope you do, too. 

 

http://www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com/

 

Feel free to post the numbers of any that you think apply to me ;)