HHYT, Week 1, Day 1

I am currently enrolled in Helen Hayes Youth Theatre (which I'm too lazy to write out completely so we'll just call it HHYT) with Nicki. Mancove is spending this summer playing volleyball, pitching softballs, and being lazy, so it's just two out of the three of us. Mancove has insisted that I mention she goes to church... a lot... against her will... to learn things about God... things she doesn't care about or already knows.

Anyway, Nicki and I are both in Beauty and the Beast, the "timeless classic" about a spunky girl who meets a selfish monster and then falls in love with the monster and he becomes a handsome prince... an annoying and consistent logic that when you become a better person you get more attractive. People are people, regardless of their appearance, and when they become good people, they are still people and can look flawed just like every other person in the world!

Today was day one of the 2 week program. It's the most stressful and nerve-racking day, a.k.a. the audition. An audition is sitting around, more sitting around, standing up and singing, then sitting around, sitting around some more, still sitting, standing up and reading stuff, then dancing, then sitting and sitting and sitting. After the initial audition, there was a reading, where individuals get called to read for a part in front of the entire company. Yeah, scary for some, but Nicki and I both love performing in front of crowds so there was no problem for us. Originally, Nicki and I were both aiming to be Mrs. Potts and Chip. But after a girl named... Bridget tried the part, our director... Luke fell in love with her. She was really good, too, so I knew my shot had just been basically demolished. But Nicki landed Chip without a doubt since she read amazingly and sang amazingly and cartwheeled amazingly and- she was just amazing.

I was prepared to settle for the humble role of "Townsperson 2" when fate hit me. You see, I have a terribly mediocre French accent, but everyone in the cast has terribly terrible French accent, and when I read for Lumiere, everyone fell in love with ME... or my french accent, at least. So I got a callback for Lumiere with... Denise, the other girl up for the part. We sang "Be Our Guest" and "Human Again" which was a lot of fun. It was my first callback ever! Congratulate me!

I'm just going to assume all my imaginary readers congratulated me... and now I can discourage you by saying "I don't think I'll get the part." I can only belt up to a C sharp and the other girl belts an E flat, so I don't think I have the range for the part...

But who cares? It got my first callback ever, a major performing arts milestone for me. You'll find out who I am tomorrow, so stay tuned, imaginary people!

Life

Today was a wonderful day but I won't blog about it. You see, Basil said she might try to blog today or tomorrow and it would be terrible for me to blog about a wonderful day I shared with her and then have her sign on and go "Oh no, I've got nothing to blog about" and then sign off. So, due to my excessively hopeful and unrealistic fantasy, I'm going to blog about... life.

Well, that's actually a particularly broad subject. Everything and everyone is living and are all part of the magical thing we call life. And things that are dead were once part of life. When we lose them, it enhances life and adds the feelings of loss, grief, and acceptance to our emotional repertoire which adds them to life. And the mineralic and inorganic substances that aren't technically living have a life of their own, a spirit that can be captured in mysterious and enchanting tales of magic and legend. So I could choose to talk about anything. I could talk about Cheez-Its, the most delicious attempt to make cheddar cheese a cracker. I could talk about how there are more species of mammals that lay eggs than mammals that walk on two legs. I could talk about how friends are the most necessary but the most frustrating people everyone needs in their life. I could even talk about Adamo Ruggiero (who is gay!).

Oh, speaking of gay, on Friday, Mango's throwing a Degrassi Goes Hollywood Movie screening party at her house. Despite the Degrassi controversy amongst my friends (is it a waste of time or heaven in the form of television... obviously the latter), Flannie, Mancove, Basil, Mango, and I are definitely coming. The only problem (other than the Flannie-Mango-Basil-loving-dating-fearing ordeal) is the fact that Mango's parents do not approve of Flannie since he's a guy. They've got this fear that anyone of the male sex is a rapist who is out to kill their daughter. But if you're a girl, their amazing hosts and fabulous people. But unfortunately for Flannie, he's never experienced this delightful aspect of the Mango household.

Yeah, I know you're questioning my connection of gay people to the Mango household, but be patient. To convince Mango's parents that he's not a rapist, we've decided he should pretend to be gay. Which hopefully he'll do. At least he'll hopefully dress and talk as the stereotypical gay person... which isn't all that accurate, because some of the most awesome people I know are gay and you'd never be able to tell. I know an amazing guy who's gone sky-diving twice and he's gay. And I know some other amazing gay people, although the relevancy of this interruption is non-existent. Anyway, I'll tell you on Friday (or Saturday morning) how it went, all you awesome imaginary people who care deeply about my life.

Julie and Julia and JJ and Blogs

I'm back in my humble hometown of - oh wait, internet stalkers, so I'll just call my town... Mars - after a splendid little excursion from reality. But like all good things, it had to come to an end, so here I am, sitting in a chair back at home. Although, despite the lack of tiny pieces of sand caught in my hair and cold water rushing between my toes and even the strange but earthy scent of marsh, I did miss my Mac. Well, my mom's Mac, but I refuse to call my cheap little Netbook my computer, we have an expensive Mac and as long as I'm blogging and IMDb-ing and NYRA-ing, I will continue to call this the family computer no matter how much my mother insists it's hers.

Anyway, upon arrival in my lonely house, my sister plopped down on the couch while I laboriously unloaded the car (since my Dad's shoulder is still dislocated). After I was finished taking in the big stuff and Mancove and Nicki managed to muster the energy to grab a few bags of food and a puzzle or two (I pity them, really, I do), the three of us plopped down on the couch and got caught up on all the television shows we watch that Nicki probably shouldn't see. But her first movie was Star Wars, so as the youngest child, she gets to do things early.

Now since I am a borderline fanatic movie buff (yes borderline; I like to know things but I don't worship them like the little boy worshipped his ferret in Shredni Vashtar or like Daniel Radcliffe's character worshipped horses in Equus, although that was an absurdly sexual relationship so that was probably not the best reference), my sisters and I requested a trip to the local cinema to see Julie & Julia. The movie looked interesting, but even if it didn't I was going to see it. I knew I was going to see it before I even knew what it was about. I knew I was going to see it during pre-production when I stumbled upon it while idly roaming IMDb. Because even if every review said it was terrible, I am legally obligated to seeing all things Amy Adams. And almost all things Meryl Streep (I'd say all things but I can't see too many R rated movies and she's just got so much it's overwhelming, I haven't been alive long enough to see all her stuff, I'd need to devote a year of my life to that and I'm far too easily distracted to do such a thing).

Anyway, Amy Adams inspired me. I guess technically Julie Powell inspired me. But that's why we have movies, to tell the unknown tales of inspiration that few people hear. To recognize the people brave enough to live a life worthy of the screen by telling their story to the world. And actors and actresses? We need them to tell the story. So in all technicality, both Julie Powell and Amy Adams inspired me through their tale of a person who wrote a blog. And it got me thinking... I could do that. I'd just need a purpose. So I sat down and I thought... and thought... and thought... and thought. But I couldn't, for the life of me, come up with a purpose. I got so frustrated, I just wanted to throw something at the wall. I mean, Julie Powell seemed to think of her purpose in seconds. She liked food. She'd blog about food. She'd blog through Julia Child's cookbook. And *BAM* she had a blog.

In a way I did have that moment, back when Basil and I decided to make a blog. But we - or I since it seems Basil has abandoned this blog *tear* (she'll return, I hope) - failed to give this blog a purpose. And if I can't even think about something to write a blog for, what am I living for? What's in the center of my little orbit of life? What do I revolve around, what excuses me from reality for moments when I'm doing it? And as much as I thought, I couldn't think of a thing. I have no mission, no goal, nothing to work towards. And that just leaves me feeling empty.

I was hoping that maybe, while I wrote this post a purpose would come to me. I would suddenly replace that emptiness with a goal and *BAM* I'd have myself a blog. But that didn't seem to go as I planned. And now that's a really sad(-ish) note to end this post on.

Dang.

But then again, who needs a purpose? I mean, it's not like I'm unaccomplished. I'm just starting high school and I've already won the American Legion Award, been elected to the board of a national organization, started writing a novel, experienced loss, experienced love, sang in the All-County Chorus and played in All-County Band, won 3 medals in Science Olympiads (with my awesome partner Basil and best friend Mango), danced in the rain, turned a cartwheel, been to Jamaica, seen a rainbow, had a my eye glued shut by my doctor, performed 3 NYSSMA pieces in the same year, discovered a passion for musical theatre, won the triple jump in a track meet, learned a lot about cinematography and the movie industry, stayed up until 4 AM, cursed in British, worn my clothing inside out and backwards, rolled down a hill, caught (and accidentally killed) fireflies in a jar, painted my hand bright green, flattened a stuffed animal, followed my heart, talked to a stranger, shared a cookie with an old woman, been stung by a jellyfish, seen Mexico, learned to snowboard and skateboard, wrote a song, walked on my hands, skinned my knee, raced a snowplow down a hill, worn mismatched socks, screwed up a friendship and leaned how to fix it, took responsibility for my actions and learned it's okay to be wrong, co-founded the TSO... in short, I've lived. I've lived my movie of a life and I'm planning to keep on doing so. And everyone's life is worthy of a movie... we just have to write our own screenplay.

And my producer says I don't need a blog with a purpose. It's perfectly fine to blog about nonsense. And if you have a problem with that, do what all great people do when they don't approve of a movie: blame the writers. Or the director. Which ever ones' name is easier to pronounce.

Oh hey, I did find my little happy ending. Yay!

The Blobs

Today I joined a gang. Yup, a real serious gang or serious dudes who like to swim in the ocean and build sand castles that look like people. Yeah, that's right, you should be jealous.

Okay, well, this all started last night, when Flannie, his brother Matt and sister Emily, came over to our condo and we watched "Billy Elliot." It's apparently rated R for language, but they characters speak in such thick British/Irish accents that we had no idea what they were saying. It's a pretty awkward movie. It's about a little boy who likes to dance. His teacher's daughter has this really bizarre crush on him and so does his best friend who is gay and enjoys dressing like a girl. His father and brother are on strike in the mines and he doesn't want to be a miner, he wants to be a dancer. At the end of the movie, his father is a strange, aging man, his brother is taking care of him, his best friend has a boyfriend and has seen the world (and bought a man-turban as a souvenir), and he's a ballet dancer.

So anyway, after Billy Elliot, we started repeating some of the awkward things they said (or at least what we heard considering the accents were so thick). The next day, we formed a gang, The Blobs. We're named after an awkward British phrase that contains minimal vulgarity when translated into American. It was originally something else, but apparently it means something really bad in British-people speak and to avoid inadvertedly cursing out British people, we changed it to The Blobs. The Blobs consist of 6 people: Mancove, Squi, Cox, Junior, Bismo, and Almond. I will explain each nickname below.

Mancove: Okay, so you all know of my awesome friend Mango, right? Well, my awesome friend Flannie likes to call her Mangrove (and Mango and a bunch of other stuff, hence the cyber-nickname). So when he told my sister this, she replied with "Mangrove? Like Man cove but with a g-r instead of a c?" And we said "Man cove, what the fish are you talking about?" And her nickname became Mancove.

Junior: Well, Flannie's brother Matt looks just like Flannie. And since my sister had gotten a nickname, we decided he needed one. So he became Flannie Junior which was soon shortened to Junior.

Squi: Flannie has this profound ability to make an awkward squeaking noise. It sounds almost as if he's swallowed a dog toy. He's also managed to train himself to talk whilst creating this noise, creating a unique and original voice. While we were splashing around in the ocean, he started talking in that voice, calling it his squeak. It was shortened to his squi while we were playing microorganisms (That's a game in which we curl up in a ball and are completely merciless to the ocean, just like microorganisms. Flannie has this problem which prevents him from floating above the waves, so he usually winds up with a mouthful of sea water and my sister has a problem which causes her to float out really far, although we can't figure out what either of their problems are.) and that became his nickname.

Almond: My other sister, Nicki, is the tiniest thing you've ever seen. She's 7, but she looks like she's 4. I was talking to my music teacher about how she'd be starting concert choir next year and she thought I meant she'd by starting kindergarten. We decided her nickname would be peanut, but she didn't seem to like that very much. I said, "Well, you can be peanut or pistachio, your choice," and Mancove extended on the nut theme. Eventually, Nicki had chosen Almond and now that's her nickname.

Bismo: While brainstorming a nickname for Emily, Flannie's sister, many options were brainstormed. A series of connections were made. She wanted to be something like "caffeine" but Flannie rejected that. Mancove and I were brainstorming and came up with Pepsi which was changed to Pepto. Pepto was verbalized and then Pepto-Bismol was suggested. After going through many variations of the name and other random ideas which were eagerly shouted out, Bismo was the final name.

Cox: Last, but not least, is yours truly. I am big on movies and actors and such and am a reliable source for basically any movie question, whether it be about Oscar nominees or the status of the newest Disney Channel Movie. There's just something that seems to attract me to that stuff. I think it's the fact that it's one of the few things that belongs to America. We don't have Chinese people or Japanese people or Mexican people make our movies; we have Americans do that. American children want to be movie stars when they grow up because Americans are movie stars. It's something we do and something we do well. Hollywood is one of the world's greatest entertainment empires (although we have competition with Bollywood and such). But anyway, I know a lot about movies. So we were talking about 17 Again and I mentioned the movie with the Mowry siblings (Taj, Tia, Tamara) that was wayyyy better than the Zac Efron and Sterling Knight version, everyone wanted to know who Taj Mowry was (apparently no one remembers him) so I made a Suite Life of Zack and Cody reference which lead my sister to say "All the High School Musical characters have guest starred on that show." Mancove and Nicki are almost as knowledgeable as me because what they don't care enough about to go research, I research and then talk about it. I doubted her and named characters and actors for her to reference to prove herself. At one point, I said "What about Martha Cox" and she knew exactly who I was talking about. But since Disney failed at informing its audience of KayCee Stroh's character's name, everyone but my sisters turned to me and went "Who?!" After I explained who she was (the awkward breakdancing nerd), Flannie couldn't seem to forget her name. He kept saying "Cox." Not that I blame him, since it is a funny name. Since I had introduced everyone to the world of funny lastnames like Cox, it became my nickname, considering the fact that I "capture the very essence of Cox."

And that's The Blobs. We are a notorious fat-free, no-sugar-added, eco-friendly, chocolate-covered gang. We're almost as dangerous as coconut flavored ice-cream. But sorry, we're pretty exclusive. To join, you'd had to have watched Billy Elliot with us.
And yeah, we know you're jealous. Because not only are we awesome, but we have sexy pants. Yeah, we know you want them. But you can't have them, so ha!

Yeah, this blog post is drifting deeper and deeper into the depths of nonsensicality, so I think I'll leave before I drown you in my nonsense.

Goodnight!

Midnight Blogging

I've taken to midnight blogging. I just finished reading one of my friends' blogs (see the blogging inspiration babble in previous post) and decided I like the idea of summarizing the day, so that's what I shall do. Sorry to steal, Steph and Sam!

Okay, so today, I woke up and walked downstairs for breakfast, only to be greeted by my family for some wonderful "centering prayer." Centering prayer is another word for sitting quietly and doing nothing, something that doesn't come easily for someone with ADHD like myself. It really made me crave normalcy and the ability to control th sudden urges to shake your leg and move. But I got over it and then proceeded to eat breakfast. Then my family went to the beach. My awesome sister and I went into the ocean and asked our father to come with us. So we headed out to find the waves to be rough. My Dad decided he'd ride a wave in but he phailed. Epically. He came up and cursed (which he seldom does) informing us that he believed he had just dislocated his shoulder. So after 3 life gaurds (all equally stupid but apparently hot according to my sister) looked at him, it was confirmed... that he'd have to go somewhere else to fix his shoulder. So we said "Gee, thanks Doc," and my mom and dad went to a clinic. Meanwhile, my sisters and I stayed with a family friend on the beach. And by on the beach, I mean in a 5 by 5 plot of land since the people in charge had theorized that the ocean was too dangerous. If we were to venture out of the little shady spot, we had to be directly infront of the lifegaurd (which probably freaked out the lifegaurd). After some time, we all grew hungry and ordered some food which was supposed to be back in 15 minutes. But apparently, in New Jersey, you multiply everything by 3, so 45 minutes later, our food arrived. After eating, we met up with our parents (just my mom really because my Dad was resting) and she relieved us of our quarentine and we spent an hour diving and jumping through waves to make up for lost time. As soon as we came in, Flannie and his family arrived, so we went back out. We then proceeded to build little lumps of land near the shore to see how long they'd last. After a few years of vacationing together, Flannie, his sister and brother and my sister had developed many beach games and the one we played with the lumps involved an intricate system of governments, militaries, agriculture, industry, and trading as we named our countries and traded goods. If a wave knocked down an area of a country or flooded a field or mine, all aspects of the economy and government effected by it suffered. It was actually a pretty intense game that we manage to play at least one each year. After that, we went home and showered and then went to dinner in a restuarant where cellphone usage was prohibited. Flannie, his brother Matt, and I all ordered hot chocolate, despite the fact it was the middle of the summer, and then joked around with my sister since she ruined it by ordering lemonade, referring to it as the "yellow beverage" all meal. We all ordered bowtie pasta with alfredo unintentionally and then we laughed and talked until everyone finished their meal. We walked back to the condo complex when our parents went to see a movie and the kids all went to Flannie's condo where his grandma supervised us as we watched T.V. and hung out, making fun of television commercials and adding our own awkward commentary. Finally, our parents came home, took us home, and sent us to bed. Well, everyone but me, I just get told not to stay up too late. And to follow through on that promise, I believe I will go to bed now. Good night, people of Earth! And other planets where you read in English! Wait, it's not night if you're in another time zone. Oh well, go to bed anyway, I require it.

Oh, and this post made sense! Well... sorta.

Hi, From New Jersey!

Hola people! This is JJ here, and I'm currently on vacation in Cape May with my awesome friend who happens to also be Basil's boyfriend! But no worries, I won't steal him, because today my friend... Jim (sorry, it's late, I'm not being very creative) asked me out! And since we've kinda both liked each other since 6th grade but stupid nonsense kept getting in the way, I said yes! Finally! Yay!

So, any way, I'm in Cape May, as I said. And on the ride down, we did absolutely nothing for hours. And then we watched Finding Neverland. Which is the best movie ever for a few reasons.
a) Freddie Highmore's in it, which makes it awesome by default.
b) Johnny Depp's in it, which makes it awesomer.
c) Kate Winslet's in it, which also increases the awesomeness level.
d) It's just awesome, okay?
So, after watching an awesome movie and doing nothing, we arrived in Cape May. We ate at a diner and then got our house key and I proceded to visit my awesome friend (who we'll call Flannie). We hung out, then my family ate dinner, hung out again, went to bed, woke up, went to an alpaca farm, ate lunch, did a puzzle because it started to rain, hung out again, did more puzzle, went to dinner, hung out, and did more puzzle. Then some of my friends had spazzy emotional break-downs, Flannie and I helped one while I helped the other, then I got annoyed at life, then I got over it, and then I blogged. So far I've really enjoyed my trip to the Jersey Shore, though (despite the fact there's been minimal shore-age).

Oh, and I've learned I'm a trend setter. It all started when I made my first blog, jjflip101.blogspot.com which was followed by 3 more blogs on the same acccount. Then, my close friend (who we'll call... Kroner) made a blog, and we communicated through blogging. Then my other close friend (Mango) and I created a Degrassi blog (degrassipwns.blogspot.com) and then Basil and I created a blog (you're reading it right now) and then Mango and my friend Sam created a blog and now everyone's blogging and I started the sensation, so yay! Not that you cared, but ya know... I'm blogging about nonsense, I can say what I want. Don't question me!

So, now that I've blogged about nonsense for a relatively decent time-frame, I think I can go to bed. Sorry, I was bored and restless and couldn't sleep, but now my mind is at ease...ish. It's sorta eased, eased enough to sleep. Once again, you're not expected to care, but this is nonsense, so I can say what I want. Take that, qualified and dignified people! You might have knowledge and reason and power, but I have nonsense. And sometimes, we all need a little nonsense. A little break from reality. Sometimes, nonsense is the best medicine available. Sure, there's some conditions where you need a doctor and all that sensical, dignified stuff, but sometimes, some eccentric and awkward gabber is all you need to clear your mind. I bet you've forgotten your original intention whilst reading this post. I bet all you're thinking about is the gibberish in front of you. And all the seemingly important things have just melted away. It's just you and my nonsense words.

And sometimes, that's all you really need.

First Post of August!!

Hey, it's Basil. I decided that today I would feel special by posting the first section of August. Yay! Anyways, I've come to write in response to JJ's last post...only problem is that I had basically no idea what she was talking about the whole time, nor did I have the attention span to attempt to comprehend (or thoroughly read, for that matter) what she'd written. Thus, I shalt make my own random post about what's on my mind.

This is sort of in response to JJ's rant about Paramore, since it was basically the only thing I can remember reading in that extremely long post besides the stuff about that James guy (hehe). I'm not much of a Paramore fan myself, seeing as I don't really have any of their songs on iTunes. My taste in music consists mainly of alternative and rock bands, such as Relient K, Every Avenue, Foo Fighters, Boys Like Girls, All Time Low, Panic at the Disco (though I must say, Panic! At the Disco's old songs were much better than the new ones) and Red Hot Chili Peppers. I wouldn't be surprised if you, imaginary reader, hadn't ever heard of Every Avenue, Foo Fighters or Relient K. Well, that was what was on my mind when I sat down at the computer today...so that's what I'm going to write about...next time, cause I spent all the time I had on the computer basically writing an intro =_=...oh well so I'll be back whenever!! -Basilllllllll (yes, I love the use of way to many letters in a word)