Rae's Playlist No. 1

My song right now-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LMgO4JyBp4

ABSOLUTELY, absolutely love this. Also think it should be made into a Titanic tribute vid. (http://obsessedwithtitanic.blogspot.com/)

The Weighty Question

I'm pretty sure it's been around forever.

"I need to gain weight!" "I need to lose it!" "I'm ugly because my body is just a smidge off my desired BMI!!!!"

Okay, okay! I'm one of them.

There was a time, not that long ago, when skinny was not attractive. Do any of my theatre geek friends just notice that moment, in Funny Girl, when Mr. Keeney is trying to get Fanny(Barbra)'s attention, and calls her "the girl with the skinny legs"? Look at Marylin Monroe. Look at Judy Garland. Look at anyone from the 20's-60's They had a perfect, beautiful body shape. Know why? Because that's the way they were.

I have a lot of girlfriends who are super-slim. I'm not saying that's bad. What would be bad is if they went through surgeries and specialized diets and what-not that could make them look like someone who was simply bigger.  I have bigger bones than some of my friends. Some girls are slim, some are curvy. You know why? Because they're built that way.

Hey, guess what? I have a confession. My chest and hips don't align perfectly. But that's not going to change, because my hip width is inherited, and I'm proud of it, and if you want to call me fat, then, go ahead. I know I'm not.

Hey, chicas! I really don't think it's worth it to go through bulimia, anorexia, and diets that make you sick to look like a stick. If that's news to you, you need to take a serious look at yourself and ask what's going on. You need help. And we need to embrace ourselves. There's nothing wrong with getting in shape, pounding little bits of fat we don't want away. But if you're trying to be a different you entirely, then who are you in the first place?

~Rae <3

On Titanic....again

The question I may use to decide how well you know me is, "Who's my favorite actor?" If you don't know, you can't have known me very well. I am a crazy theatre geek, and my friends can attest to that fact. But, sorry, my favorite actor will forever and always be Leonardo Wilhelm DiCaprio. (By the way, did you know that an agent wanted to change his name to Lenny Williams because they thought his real name was too hard to pronounce? Yeah. SO glad they didn't.) And, of course, I love The Aviator and Inception and anything Leo, but my favorite movie will always and forever be Titanic.

Ah, deep romantic sigh.

NOW. I have guy friends, and I love them to death. But, they can't really understand my obsession with this movie. "Umm, Titanic sails, boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy dies. WUT NOW?" (this is why I then try to unsuccessfully talk them out of their point of view. So far, it hasn't worked. No surprise there.) Now, I hope I'm fair about the fact that, yes, in essence, that is what the storyline is. But they're missing the point completely! Titanic, to me, is so much more than that.

First and foremost, let me say right here and now-it's a chick flick, boys. I'm not expecting you to become a crazy fan. That would, in fact, be a little creepy. More than a little creepy. When I rag on you for treating it badly-keep in mind, I'm a mean person. It's in my nature, or something. That is our little game-you hate it, I try to convince you to not, it doesn't work, I'm okay with that. Moving on.

Second of all, I'm in love. And I know most girls say that at this age, and then end up with another guy two weeks later. But my friends know that when it comes to me-yes, I'm dramatic. But I'm also legit, absotively posolutely in love. And that's taken a huge, huge bear

ring on the way I watch Titanic. First is the Big Question-were Jack and Rose really in love? First of all, for proper chick-flick-romance-and-obsessed-with-this-movie-cause-Leo-is-yummy purposes, I am obligated for a yes. Seccond of all, that really depends on the way you describe love. Did they

have enough attatchment to die for each other? Yes. Did they have enough attatchment to put the other first? Yes. Did they prove their attatchment over time? Well, therein lies the past 14 years of people's skeptical mindset. What would have happened if they had both survived? We actually

can't tell. There are some who say, "Oh, their love was strong. They made it" and there are some who say "No way on earth! It was superficial and they fell apart." The truth, people? We really can't prove anything. Sorry. Feelings change a lot for some people, and not at all for other people. For me, I'm inclined to think they made it, simply because of the affection and relationship they showed, and also because that's the way the story should go, in my point of view. So there, nyeahhh.

SO. Now that we have that cleared up-where were we? Oh yeah, I'm in love. *lovestruck grin* And looking at it, the question runs through my mind-"Would I jump off that boat for ----?" (For blog post purposes, and the privacy he so dearly adores, we'll call him The Man....) The truth-sorry melodramatic attitudes-is that I'll probably never know. I would hope that I would love The Man enough to go down to E deck and cut off his handcuffs, or jump off the rescue ship because I couldn't leave him. But I don't really know, as I haven't been faced with the circumstances. THIS, dear ones, is what we would call a "what if" situation. The Man is not fond of these, at all. "Why ask me if I would when it hasn't happened?" Oh, the realistic meets the dramatic. What a beautiful waltz! Meanwhile, I'm cultivating the love to do that. One thing I wonder, however-no, scratch that, two things. Number one-Is jumping off that boat love, or craziness? You decide that.  The other thing that strikes me on occasion is, if Rose just stayed put in that boat, the chances would be a lot greater that she and Jack would have made it out of the wreck alive. But, of course, Jack has to die, the story wouldn't be right if he lived. (More on that later.)

I'm a history buff. I'm planning to minor in it in college, that's how big of a history buff I am. And I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks this, but the story just wouldn't be right-it wouldn't hold that charisma of a whole different time, if it was in the present. (Erm duh.) Of course, the story is actually set in the present-everything on the Titanic is a flashback. Woo! I'm infatuated with the charisma that history holds, the different culture and propriety and people. Also, older people, to me, hold an entire history book of their lives inside. World War 1, World War 2, bobby socks and poodle skirts, heels around the house, disco fever, phonebooth stuffing, Eve Arden, Walter Pigeon, Lucille Ball, Dick van Dyke, goldfish gulping, go-go girls, The Beatles, Pet Rocks, The Cold War, and the time when women were woman, children were children, and men were all good-looking. (Woot woot!) It's fascinating to me, history is. And that may be part of the reason I love Titanic so much, is because it's so historical, mixed in with the romance and tragedy.

I confess. I love Mr. Andrews. So much. All the more so since Victor Garber was also a stage actor. (Anthony in Sweeney Todd, anyone?) And I would like to explain to people-and maybe I'm not the only one who feels this way-is that, guess what? Jack dies. And it's sad. Horrible. Tear-fest, even. But it's supposed to happen. Rose has to lead a life without him. Part of the story is that she had a wonderful life, because he made her promise to never let go. He kept her going, her whole life. But for that to happen, Jack is supposed to die. But Mr. Andrews?! I mean, part of this film is historical. But that doesn't keep me from being sad when Mr. Andrews stops the clock in the lounge and waits for the ship to sink, doing nothing. Whole 'nother tear-fest right there.

I greatly bemoan the fact that I cannot cry when I watch Titanic. I know, I'm awful, right? Oh, yes, a depression overtakes me. And I WANT to cry. But I can't. *hangs head* I'm not a person who cries at movies.  Depression? Chyeah. But I can't cry. Awful.

 I hesitate to end this post, as I know I'll probably end up writing another Titanic-related post. Maybe not soon, but most likely, I'll be jotting down my reflections on this masterpiece. In the meantime-HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEO! Next month <3 and hip, hip, huzzah, James Cameron.  You make me smile.

~rae <3

Rambles on fall.

 Today, I ponder upon how much I hate fall.

Well, okay. Maybe that's a bit harsh. But fall just isn't my thing. Everyone around me is like "Yay! Cute winter clothes! Yay! Juicy apples! Yay! Pretty leaves! Yay! Cool weather!"

1-Cute on you, not necessarily on me.
2-Not big on apples.
3-Those leaves are only pretty until the winter eats them.
4-I'm such a summer person. Hate cold.

Can I just be a major Debbie Downer here?! I mean, school starts. The days get shorter. All the leaves crumble and fall. Noses get chapped, as do lips and hands and health. Runny noses. Frozen ground. Memories of summer. For all those people who love fall, good for you. And I do admit, it holds a certain charisma, even for me. I just wish it was warmer.

Okay, after that wonderful display........even I have some things I like about fall. School starts, and, along with that, HELP starts. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a homeschooler, and hysterically proud of that fact. Higher Extension Learning Program, or HELP is where I take Lit/Comp, and more importantly to me, DRAMA. I get to see all my friends whom I've missed over the summer and audition and we all have a grand time.

I don't usually talk about it, but each season with its essence gets a major emotional response from me. Spring isn't as big, but hey, everybody loves spring. Summer gives me the fabulous, "the world is everything and I am anything" feeling. Winter is such a comforting, reminiscent, magical feeling. And fall is sad, but strong at the same time. It's a reminder of how big the world is. Feelings like this can be difficult to put into words.

So, fine. I guess fall isn't so bad.

Random weird things about me.

I'm so bored.

I'm in love with Jack Dawson. I know everyone was in 1997, but hey, I was 2 years old then. So I'm in love with him NOW. ;)

I take a nap like every day, go to bed late, and am tired for work the nest morning. Never fails.

I have a better emotional response to music when I'm in bed than when I'm outside. I guess I can concentrate on it better or something.

I procrastinate well. I know everyone does, but mine is like almost a serious case, like a I-don't-know-if-I'll-get-into-college case. Stupid habits.

I don't appreciate milk, pork, chicken, steak, cheese, peanut butter, Mexican food, strawberries, or apples like people should. I'm extremely picky.

I blow e-very-thing out of proportion. WAY out of proportion. Scarily out of proportion.

I have scars all over my legs. Sad thing? They're all from bug bites and me scratching them over and over again. Sigh.

I love biking to the library. I COULD ask my sister to drive me, but I like to have sweat pouring down my back when I walk in, like "Oh yeah, I just biked in 96-degree weather, and YOU drove. Ahahaha."

I have a very, very, VERY thin skin. It's gotten a lot better, but it took a lot to get a thick one. Thus, I can laugh things off much better now.

I always tell myself that the sun will come out eventually, if not tomorrow, and I gotta keep going. Optimist? I don't label myself in that area. That's just my mantra.

My nails are awful. My guy friends have better nails than me, and that's wrong.

I still leap into bed after turning off the light. Stupid dark.

Green olives, marinated mushrooms and gumbo are my loves.

I used to sing in the shower. But, guess what? I found the garage is better.

I love life sometimes. I mean, like REALLY crying-a-bucketload-of-tears happy and all. I love those times.

My mom asked me if I had had my first kiss a while ago. Nope, I haven't. My guess? It'll be a stage kiss.

~Rae

I made a pome.

Sweat
Heat
Pain
The hot wind
Blowing against my face
Pumping hard
Pushing
the bike pedals
My neighborhood
The same
all
over
splashes of personality
cling to
the houses
paved roads
healthy trees
The sounds of
a party
Take the off road
The no outlet road
The stony road
Nearly deserted
An old man
Frail man
He pushes his walker
and I wonder-
He has a whole life
behind
those
wheels
All the pain
tears
joy
love
anger
roughness
from hewing out
from a small baby's mind
a human being.
A wife
kids
grandkids
accomplishments
a life
too full
to be contained
behind
those
wheels
I took the off road
The no outlet road
The stony road
Nearly deserted
A girl
walks by
walking a dog
as big as she is
blond ponytail
shorts
baggy shirt
For an odd reason
my mind screams
"california girl
but
she lives in Ohio."
I smile at her
but
the smile
is for the fluffy dog.
I took the off road
The no outlet road
The stony road
Nearly deserted
A boy
about my age
mows the lawn
his shirt and shorts
coordinate
Is he looking at me?
Why?
He's dark
lanky
I bike on.
I took the off road
The no outlet road
The stony road
Nearly deserted
I come full circle
to the end
of
the
road
Houses
slightly run down
I imagine
frightening men
drinking beer
who live
behind
those
old
windows
the forest
has
an
old
blue
sign
nailed to an outlying tree
nothing on it
just a blue canvas
infinite possibilities
in a can
of
paint
I'm not the kind of girl
who would trek
into
that
forest
rule-breaker
fearless
I'm just
me
Do I regret it?
No.
I turn back
onto
The nicely paved roads
and the houses
all the same
lucky
rich
but
not the kind of
old
sad
personality
I found
In my no outlet road.

Not my road, but sure purdy.