Do you ever watch reality TV (The Bachelor, for example) and feel like the girls are so much older than you, only to find out that they're your age or younger? Because I do that all the time.

Like this girl:

http://abc.go.com/shows/the-bachelor/bio/nicki/907798

She's a year younger than me and if I saw her on the street I'd guess she was at least 30.

For comparison:
Granted, not the best photo of me. But it was taken a week ago so I figure it shows me at my oldest. (PS - Good lord, I look like my father in this one. And all photos. And real life.)

Is it the makeup? Or the tan? Or do I actually look as old as her and I'm just delusional?

And on the flip side, I often feel so painfully old. Sometimes my having lived in New York comes up and people ask when I was there. And I tell them I worked there for a few years after college, you know, before I moved to SLC and started grad school. I AM OLD ENOUGH TO HAVE WORKED FOR A FEW YEARS IN NEW YORK AFTER COLLEGE. That is terrifying.

From a fantastic article on Thought Catalog:

"I think the reason why twentysomethings are so fixated on age is because we feel a pressure to be a certain way at 23, at 25, at 29. There are all of these invisible deadlines with our careers and with love and drinking and drugs. I can’t do coke at 25. I need to be in a LTR at 27. I can’t vomit from drinking at 26. I just can’t! We feel so much guilt for essentially acting our age and making mistakes. We’re obsessed with this idea of being domesticated and having our shit together. It’s kind of sad actually because I don’t think we ever fully get a chance to enjoy our youth. We’re so concerned about doing things “the right way” that we lose any sense of pleasure in doing things the wrong way. Youth may be truly wasted on the young."

Can we all agree to enjoy our youth? I promise I will if you will. No more deciding I have to have done anything by any age, because the reality is, the people who force themselves into those situations regret it. And I for one like to live with no regrets.

Sometimes, I get so caught up in the logistics and the stress of trying to be a 'filmmaker' that I forget about all the fun stuff. When that happens I watch movies or shorts that I love, or I go see something new in the hope that I'll have that moment when I nerd out about a great shot or an amazing edit.

I'm pretty sure my friends all hate when I do that. (sorry, guys)

I'm in script writing this semester, and while it really stresses me out because I've never done it before, the endless possibilities are really exciting. If I don't like the way something happened in real life, I can just write it into a script with a better ending. Or if someone else has a really great story, I can adapt it.

For instance, say you sort of accidentally publicly turned a guy down twice in the space of an hour. And say that you make things right and the next time the guy asks you out you don't reject him. In real life, you probably go out on a date or two with the guy and that's it. In a movie, you marry the guy and at the rehearsal dinner he mentions in a toast how you turned him down twice in front of people before accepting a date. And your friends and family laugh knowingly and smile at you and you pretend to be embarrassed. 

In real life, you go through a bad break up and it rocks your world in ways you never imagined. You take months to get over it and eventually move past the pain but spend a lot of time in sweats eating your feelings. In a movie, your depression takes away your appetite, you lose weight, end up getting a great new job and meeting the love of your life. Oh, and Judy Greer is your best friend.

That's where the good and bad comes in. The good: in a way, I can rewrite history. The bad: it doesn't change what actually happened.

Real life will never be like a movie.

Sometimes, I'm sure it's better. But when it's not...I highly recommend a rewrite.

I keep telling myself I just have to make it to Monday. If I can make it to Monday and get everything done, I'm in the clear.

But the truth is, that's just a lie I'm telling myself. Yes, by Monday I will be moved into a new apartment, and the documentary I've been working on will be done. However...school is starting up at the end of August, and being in a new apartment means a huge change in my life. A change that is terrifying and exciting and wonderful and awful all at the same time.

I think this is how we get through life, by lying to ourselves. It's amazing what we can convince ourselves of, and how many times we fall for the same lie. At times like these, I think about something my dad told me once. I asked him if life ever got easier, and he said "No, you just stop expecting it to be."

So wish me luck, blog readers. That I will finish cutting the doc (and that it won't suck) and that somehow I will miraculously pull of a move in two(ish) days. It's times like these I wish I had better coping mechanisms.

I am just in a melancholy mood lately.

Also, I can't type that word [melancholy] without thinking of Smashing Pumpkins. And sixth grade. (Which is when I bought that album...Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness.) And dances at the community center. And the feeling you have when you're young that the world is full of possibilities, and that absolutely anything could happen.

And that's a happy thought. So you see, me being melancholy is sort of good and bad.

Can I whine just for a little? Please?

I have strep throat. (and for some reason, whenever I type that, I want to spell it strept)

My throat had been a little bit sore since Friday, but things really escalated Sunday evening. I took some Tylenol PM hoping for 8 hours of deep sleep, but at 1:42 AM I was wide awake. And tossing. And unable to swallow.

I knew it was time to admit I was sick, and made an appointment at the health center for later that afternoon. It was rainy and gross, and I had to wait for a while before I was seen (even though I had an appointment). When the doctor felt my neck the first thing out of her mouth was "Oh my, that's not good." Not very encouraging.

It turns out my lymph nodes and tonsils were so swollen that at first she thought I had a very muscular neck. Yeah. She took a throat culture (which was painful, b/c she couldn't get past my swollen glands to my throat) and the verdict is: strep.

I had to drop off some exams off for the professor I TA for, and was hoping not to run into anyone I knew, but of course I did (in sweats with wavy, un blow-dried hair, and no make up). And then hit every red light possible on the way home.

Then Kristy texted me that she had tickets to the Jazz game last night, but I was obviously too sick to go. Which was a bummer, but not a tragedy. Until I found out they were playing the Sixers last night. Yes, I missed out on tickets to the Jazz playing my hometown team. And they lost.

So you can see how it was really an awful day. But there were some bright spots...

Heather came over to watch The Bachelor finale and brought Frostys. And Brad picked Emily! Also, the doctor prescribed a diet of ice cream, pudding, and other soft foods until I can swallow properly again. So my Lent boycott of sweets is suspended for a little while.

Here's hoping I'm well in time for my Spring Break trip next week.

The bad news is: I have part 1 of an exam tonight. An exam I do not feel prepared for despite having read all the required reading and and watched the required films. It could be that I just don't like European Art films.

The good news is: my hair is awesome today.

These days, I'm learning to take happiness where I can get it.