29 June 2007

So close, and yet so far.

The past night and day seem to have been a torrent of emotion for me. It's weird, but I really thought I would have grown out of my petty stage. I recently found out that yet another one of my casual arrangements has settled down with a significant other. I don't have feelings for him or anything, but it just made me wonder what's so horribly wrong with me that I can't seem to meet anyone I'd want to stick around for not only the night/next morning, but long enough for meetings afterward - basically someone nice, decent, what have you.

When I asked my co-worker Kerri, she just told me, maybe the girl he's with isn't so nice and had to settle for him (since he's what I describe to people as "picture a 'nice Jewish boy,' now picture the exact opposite"). Like me, it seems like everyone she knows is pairing off too. Being the seventh wheel at prom in high school was just simply annoying. Now it's just kind of pathetic.

Don't get me wrong, I love being single/alone in general. Having a bed to myself where I can stretch, toss and turn (sometimes even drool and fart on occasion) without having to worry about someone next to me is awesome. I like not having to work my schedule around someone else or dealing with petty arguments which end up destroying what was once a good friendship over time. Besides, I'm in a situation a lot like Jake's where I really need to take care of a lot more important things (finding an apartment/job and eventually saving and/or destroying the world) before I can even think about something as trifling as picking a life/3-month partner.

Kerri also said to me that there's a bit of an intimidation factor when it comes to me as well, what with the graduating with a four year degree in just three years and knowing what I want out of life when everyone else is as good as moving back into their parent's basements for awhile. Granted, I never really thought any of that was impressive. I'm also still very uncertain about what I want from life for the long haul, but right now, I just think I'd be happier in Portland.

I remember the application adviser at the Western Culinary Institute telling me that I was "brave" for making the move all the way out there. At the same time, I remember Ben warning me against "running away from myself."

I want to believe that the fact that I'm making a change my life, for good or ill, will make me happy. Tonight though, I started to have doubts, but then I came to the conclusion that things will be cool.

Where it started: I love my co-workers. We banter, poke fun at each other, but in the end, we all commiserate about our situation. I mean, we work at a college textbook store. Sometimes we go out for the occasional beers and pool. Tonight some of us went to see "Knocked Up" (which I would recommend as being oddly good) and went book-shopping. I mean, how often do people who know each other from work (especially at a bookstore) just go to a bookstore and browse...especially since we spent a good amount of time in a bookstore previously.

I always feel a bit bad about getting rides from people for some reason. In high school, it wasn't bad because I believed in underclassmen/upperclassmen karma: basically, as a freshman, you catch rides with upperclassmen friends with cars and when you get your car and license, you give your underclassmen friends rides to football games/movies/parties/etc. Now that I probably won't be able to afford a car or will most likely live in a place where it won't be conducive to own a car, the karma cycle sort of stops, gets backed up on my end.

Of course, this isn't fair. I'm always surprised at how awesomely nice my co-workers are. I mean, they're just genuinely nice people, and I'm just really not used to that sort of thing. At the same time, building this sort of "family" and relying on them sort of reminds me of the tension in my own family and why I'm leaving in the first place. Still, with how close I've gotten with these new friends, I actually think I'll be sad to go. I even said that tonight. Out loud.

Which brings me back to the first bit about the dating/being single conundrum. I figure I'll always be ok being single as long as I have good friends like Liz and Jenna, my co-workers. But without them around next year, things will be a bit more difficult. I mean, how do you meet people after college? I felt isolated this year, and I was still technically on campus.

I guess it just does take time. I've worked at the bookstore for a year and now I'm at the point where I can talk about anything with them (and I mean everything, for example: complaining about above-mentioned jackass for being a complete conceited prat and waving about his relationship in my face).

I don't know. I'm just rambling on this silly blog when I should be packing and getting ready to leave for Sunday. I'm in a peculiarly light mood now despite the rather bleak spell I had this morning where I just had to run off and be alone for awhile (which no one really notices since a lot of what I do for my job is a one-person job most of the time anyway).

Besides, what's not to be happy about? I'm going to Portland next week. There's a blues festival, all manner of amazing restaurants, gardens to stroll in, shops to blow my hard-earned bookstore money on (especially Powell's...is it weird that I'm going to go to a giant bookstore on my holiday when I work in a bookstore?). Oh yeah, I guess I'll squeeze in looking for a job and an apartment somewhere in there.

27 June 2007

It ain't quite over yet...

So yeah, I made it to a 20,000 word screenplay in 30 days (actually a bit less). Unfortunately, it isn't quite finished yet. So, I'll see if I can use the time I have left to actually complete it (or at least have the plot hashed out on paper/hard drive). Compared to NaNoWriMo where I was scrambling to fulfill the proper word count, ScriptFrenzy! was one where I tried to cram too much in too little space. Admittedly though, I did occasionally slip into my fiction mode of writing where there is quite a lot of filler describing people, places and things as opposed to providing any advancement for the plot.

Nonetheless, there is a whole lot of plot to be had. Hypothetically, it could be two movies, but I think form and structure-wise, it would be a lot better as just one. I promise I'll post it like I did for NaNoWriMo...and I promise that it is a much more fun read than "312 East Main Street." I mean there are assassins, schoolgirls (if I get to the bit about the international assassin training school), torture scenes of people who really deserve it, mother/daughter dramatic turmoil about the expectations one has about the way the other leads her life, explosions, and at least one sex scene/montage.

01 June 2007

Just a quick taste/the first bit I wrote for ScriptFrenzy...

FADE IN:

INT. LEARNING ANNEX-DAY

Close-up of immaculately white orthopedic shoes hurriedly walking down dim, dirty corridor.

NARRATOR (v.o)

It all started when I failed my NCLEX-RN exam.

Shoes scuff into tarnished metal paneling on door and back up, a hand reaches down and tries to rub out scuff on shoe before giving up. The door opens and the shoes enter the room. Door closes with squeaky hinges and loud slam.

NARRATOR (v.o.)

No, scratch that. It all started when I went in the wrong room and took the wrong exam.

Pan of nearly-empty room sparsely occupied with people who are obviously not nursing candidates followed by mid-shot of NARRATOR’S back from the shoulders down. Here it is revealed that even though her shoes were white, everything else she’s wearing is dark blue.

NARRATOR (v.o)

You’d think I would’ve figured out that it wasn’t the right test, but hell, I didn’t have breakfast that morning, so my mind was on other things … like French toast and cinnamon rolls.

Close-up of exam question reading: “What are the best points on the body to cut in order to maximize blood loss in the least amount of time available for the appearance of a suicide?”

NARRATOR (v.o.)

Another hint would have been questions like this. The NCLEX-RN only had multiple-choice questions the first time I took it. Then again, I had heard that they were trying something new with the format and using short answer, essay questions, maybe a few calculations for medication dosages. I didn’t think that they’d change the wording around that much.

Camera follows motion of pencil writing in answer: “A puncture wound or incision along the radial veins or jugular vein and carotid artery would cause a type III or IV hemorrhage, resulting in tachycardia and a drop in blood pressure. Most suicides have multiple, or hesitation, cuts.”

NARRATOR (v.o.)

It’s sort of scary how easy it is to apply knowledge usually used to save lives in order to take them. Either that, or perhaps I really wasn’t fated to be a nurse after all. I’ll get to that bit about fate later, though.

CUT TO INT. NARRATOR'S APARTMENT-DAY

Close-up of NARRATOR’S hands carefully opening envelope with scalpel.

NARRATOR (v.o.)

Almost as soon as I got the results back from my exam, I received my first “assignment.” (pause) What? That’s my lucky scalpel. I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering I failed the NCLEX-RN exam the first time.

CUT TO HOSPITAL-DAY

DOCTOR

Good afternoon.

NARRATOR tips imaginary hat to DOCTOR before turning into a patient’s room.

NARRATOR(v.o.)

The setup was simple enough. I took care of a particular coma patient’s neighbor for a few weeks and then administered a “special” injection into the IV drip of the fellow next door.

Close-up of NARRATOR’S hands holding hypodermic needle injecting fluid into IV drip.

NARRATOR (v.o.)

It’s funny what just the right amount of potassium will do to a person.

PATIENT shakes while electrocardiogram BEEPS rapidly followed by steady flatlining tone.

NARRATOR (v.o.)

In the immediate sense, it just looks like a heart attack. But by the time the autopsy results come back, I’m long gone.

INT. HOSPITAL DISPOSAL ROOM

Door opens and slams shut as NARRATOR hurriedly walks by in jeans and hooded sweatshirt, throwing nurse’s uniform, gloves and needle into red bin labeled “biohazardous material” in black letters.

EXT. HOSPITAL ALLEY-DAY

Back door opens and slams shut as NARRATOR continues walking down darkened alley, hunched with sweatshirt hood obscuring most of her face.

Narrator (v.o.)

Fortunately for me, the turnover at that particular hospital was so high that none of the doctors, or anyone else for that matter, would ever remember my name.

CUT TO FLASHBACK

DOCTOR

Good Afternoon.

Quickly cut multiple shots of various Filipina faces smiling warmly, slowly walking past and entering the PATIENT’S room.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

You’ll notice that he/she didn’t even bother saying my name. Doctors tend to be like that. Sometimes I wonder if they even remember their patients’ names. That was partially why I never went to med school. I wanted to be able to take care of people, not just “treat ailments.” The other reason was my parents, but I’ll get into that later. Either way, it always seemed that way for Filipina nurses, like we were invisible. We always just looked the same to them.

CUT BACK TO EXT. ALLEY-DAY

NARRATOR takes hood off upon entering sunlit street from dark alley revealing that yes, she is an almost non-descript, average-looking Filipina.