guess who's back, back again - Bekah's back, tell a friend!

Holy Hell, y'all! It's been a long while since we last met on this blog. I would apologize for the hiatus but I was in desperate need of a break after all of the academic writing I had to do during grad school. I was burnt out and directionless in my writing. There have been moments over the past two years where I had potential blog ideas but lacked the desire to actually sit down at the computer and hammer them out (not to mention, the tiny issue of Mabel the Mac needing a brain transplant). It's been an interesting and beautiful two years away from here filled with love, laughter, travel, and a lot of questions about the direction of my "career". I now come back to blogging with clear and exciting answers to these questions - as well as a creative rejuvenation and love for the written word.

What was the catalyst for this new found inspiration, you ask? Over the last year, I had noticed a bit of a hole in my life despite all of the amazing people and moments in it. The more the idea of writing popped into my head, the more it became glaringly obvious what was missing. The problem I faced then was in what direction did I want to take my writing? Did I want to continue blogging and journaling for a hobby and a creative outlet or did I really want to dig deep and face what I’ve been yearning for, yet scared of all along...writing as a career. [Aaahhh! Yay! Eeek! WHOA!] So often we are scared of the things that we most want and those are the things that lead to one of my least favorite words in this world - regret. I’ve always prided myself on pushing my own boundaries and living a life with no regrets and if I didn’t take this next step with my writing because I was afraid of failure, I would be living a lie. The question still plagued me...what was I going to write? It wasn't until my friend, Meghan and I were inspired by a visit to the historical society museum in my hometown - we kept going on and on about what an amazing stories there were to tell. Months later a brilliant and unexpected idea was born over fire and boozin’ - we decided to write a screenplay [proof that alcohol can sometimes really inspire and help you make great life decisions].

This wasn’t shocking news to those closest to me. As a matter of fact, it made perfect sense to them (and myself, once I really thought about it). My boyfriend quickly reminded me that during our very first conversation together, I gushed on and on about my love of film, writing, and desire to eventually write a screenplay. I had said it out loud to someone else and knew then that it was coming from the deepest and truest part of my heart -- and let’s be honest, it’s been a long time coming. I have been a writer, dreamer, and film lover since my childhood. There’s nothing like the thrill of putting pen to paper or the sound of fingers tapping away at a keyboard to bring life to a story. I spent many years trying on different hats but have resolved that writing should be my top hat. No more excuses...it was time to start making my dreams of becoming a screenwriter a reality.

So Meghan and I started plowing away on it! We knew we wanted to focus on a specific historical time period at the Highlander Folk School [I won’t go into it too much because quite frankly, it would ruin the movie and we will be counting on you to spend yo dollas to see it. However, feel free to google away because it is rich in history and is still rockin’ on today.], which meant we had beaucoups of research to do before forming into the perfect story. During our research, fate intervened.

We noticed that Highlander (Research and Education Center) would be holding their very first Screenwriting Workshop with none other than Robert Ben Garant. If you aren’t familiar with Ben, he’s a Hollywood screenwriter, former writer/star of Reno 911 (Travis Jr.!), AND also the great nephew of the Highlander Folk School founder, Myles Horton. I mean, C’MON people -- the stars were aligning for us! Fate then decided to give us scholarships for the workshop, so we packed our pens, paper, and enthusiasm as we headed to the middle of nowhere in east Tennessee (beautiful green hills, mountains, and farmland for DAYS).

Y’all, it was a workshop wonderland! Inspiring. Creatively exhilarating. Educational. Entertaining. Hopeful. Happy. Thought-provoking. And above all, life-changing! We met some wonderful and interesting people that challenged and delighted me along the way. The food there was seriously scrumptious. The conversations were incredibly interesting, fun, and encouranging. We were so incredibly fortunate to be able to meet and chat with the real life leading lady in our film -- So yeah, that was pretty much amazing! Then there was Ben. He taught, nurtured, encouraged, energized, and directed us. He’s a truly funny and warm guy and I will be forever grateful for his kindness, advice, and for presenting us with the opportunity of a lifetime [note: I’m not just talking about any kind of opportunity. I’m talking about the crazy awesome, out-of-this-world, dream kind where he vowed to help us MAKE this film. Yeah...you read that right. Holy! Shiz! *still jumping up and down with insane amounts of excitement and disbelief*]. We honestly learned more than I could have ever hoped and finally started to realize that this film was REALLY going to happen. Talk about exceeding my expectations in every possible way!

Now begins the real work. We are in full research mode -- reading all that we can get our hands on, watching films, setting up interviews, reading other scripts, and jotting down inspiration for scenes and ideas by the boat loads! Even though there are moments when it seems terrifying and daunting, it will never outshine how alive I feel and comfortable I am with this new adventure.

So I guess I can actually say it now. I finally know that I am right where I was meant to be - I’m an aspiring screenwriter.

Peace Love and Movie Magic,

Bekah

I salute you, social media.

Unemployment breeds knowledge...and a social life.

It's true. I've become a news, entertainment, & social media junkie! I wake up, open up ole Mable the MacBook, I gets on the interwebbies, and I shoot it up. A little bit of Huffington Post here, a little bit of Netflix there. Maybe a dose of my Brits on the BBC and a then some of Fox News just to get me good and riled up with their foolishness. I toss in a bit of Mormon mommy blog reading [their lives really can't be that adorable & "perfect". Right?], music blogs, fashion blogs, political blogs, save the world blogs, bitter blogs, not so bitter [but proudly promiscuous] blogs, and those crafty blogs that make me feel oh so inadequate and inspired to be all creative & DIY-ee at the same time. Of course, then there's that slight addiction I have to Facebook stalking [not your page, of course] and live for the moments when I get to check-in somewhere, in order to prove that I do, in fact, still have a life [holy pathetic, batman]. And how could I ever forget to mention my time spent tweeting about the most insightful of things [okay, so maybe that one about dropping my book in the tub wasn't exactly profound -- but I bet it did teach you to be more careful with paper products during bath time!].

But honestly, aside from the whole job hunting until I'm bloody blue in the face, what else am I suppose to do with my time? If I can't be contributing to society in some way, I should at least know what's going on out there and feel like I'm still a part of it. Which made me think, what in the hell would I have done if this happened to me before the days of social media? I know what. I would perish. PERISH, I tell you!...or maybe something less dramatic, since I wouldn't have known the joys and life-saving capabilities of it. But I am absolutely certain that I would not be handling this whole unemployed "lifestyle" nearly as well in some other day and age [and yes folks, this has been me handling it well. Trust me!]. As much as I love my me time, I equally love and thrive on social interaction. Social media has made it possible for me to still be a part of the dialogue and not feel like a complete waste of space. I feel connected. I feel understood [well...most of the time]. I am "in the know." I get to share in ways that I would have never thought possible, oh so many moons ago.

Now, I know there are plenty of haters out there that don't get/aren't into the whole social networking scene...they find it creepy or invasive of their privacy. That's fine. I get it. But that's the beauty of it -- you don't have to take part in it, if for some reason it just isn't your cuppa tea. I, on the other hand find it to be extremely comforting and a beautifully strange new way of living. I mean, I get to have interactions with friends, family, and strangers from all across the globe on any given day. As a girl who has always valued the art of staying in touch and jumps at the chance to meet [and learn from!] new & intriguing people, social media has done nothing but enrich my life...and perhaps cause the occasional distraction from things that I technically should be doing, but let's not get into that right now, shall we?

One thing is for certain - this sponge here is soakin' up everything social media has to offer and thanking those nerds that be for keeping me connected.


Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease,

Beks

yo. lissie be singin' my song.

This is basically what my life has consisted of tonight: The song plays, the song ends. I hit replay. The song plays, the song ends. I hit replay. The song plays, the song ends. I hit replay...etc. Now, either I truly love this song or I'm beginning to show signs of obsessive compulsive disorder!

Jokes aside folks, there is something truly extraordinary about it. I recall the first time it happened upon my ears and I distinctly remember saving it away in my brain under the tunes-to-look-up-and-forever-love-file. However, tonight, this song has set up camp in its very own corner of my heart. When I stumbled upon this version, something about the stripped down, raw emotion hit me like a punch to the gut. And if ever there were a song that could convey the lost, searching soul that I am, it is this very one. Music has a way of forcing you to feel every emotion and face yourself in the bleakest of times. The beautiful thing - there's hope. Hope in the words. Hope in her voice. Hope buried somewhere within me.

Sometimes I want to throw my hands up and surrender but this song reminded me that I have to have faith ---- faith that all of the struggles and broken moments in my life will eventually help me find my way and for blogs-sake, my place in this whacked out world!

Thank you, Lissie, for this godsend of a song. It will forever remain in its own special corner of my heart.

And...replay.



Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease,

Beks

2011, We need to talk.

Let me first say that yes, I do realize that I am writing my “New Year” related blog about 26 days into it and yes, I do realize that is a wee bit late but honestly, would you expect anything else from me? I didn’t think so – but allow me to explain regardless.

For friends and readers of this blog, it comes as no surprise that 2010 and I certainly had our ups and downs. We laughed…we cried…we shared countless anxiety attacks. As I look back on it, I would conclude that it was both a beautiful and disastrous year all rolled into one. On the one hand, I spent several life-changing months traveling throughout Greece and Italy. I can honestly say that I have never felt more alive, inspired, and completely at ease with myself as I did during that time. I was carefree and incandescently happy (further proof that traveling is absolutely vital to my existence and my sanity)! Truly, it was one of the most amazing experiences that my 27 years has ever known. I came home from that trip feeling hopeful and high on life! I just KNEW that things were going to work out exactly how I had dreamed up and planned out (Go ahead. Laugh. I know you want to). WRONG. Life, per usual, had other plans for me.

The real world happened. The soul-crushing, mind-numbing monotony of job hunting took over my life and hasn’t released its grip for the past five months (cue melodramatic theme music). Truly, some days are really hard. You feel beaten down, frustrated, and discouraged – but then I have to remember not to take it so personally. I have to remind myself that these employers aren’t actually picking up my resume and shouting, “Oh, she’s completely incompetent! What a fool! Why would she even bother?” Hell, most of them probably haven’t even actually LOOKED at my resume - At least that’s what I am going to keep telling myself in order to maintain a bit of dignity. What I do know is that this is a shoddy economy we currently live in and I am not the only victim of it. While I don’t particularly like to think about others feeling as crummy as I do about all of this, I also take comfort in knowing that I am not alone. It's a wretched situation and I am wishing all of you luck (but only after I have secured a job before you. Kidding. Kind of).

Needless to say, I had BIG hopes for the beginning of 2011. I don’t know why I thought that the changing of one digit was going to magically make life better (oh yes, I do – it’s because I am a delusional dreamer) but by golly gumdrops, I was convinced that number 1 was going to do it. I don’t think I need to state the obvious but just for good measure - it did not. Yes, yes, I know that we haven’t even finished out the first month of the year but you have to agree with me on one thing – being blind-sided with a break-up three days into the new year, followed by three more weeks of unemployment (with no real prospects) doesn’t exactly scream a promising fresh start, now does it?

So I am proposing that my new year start with the month of February instead. My logic for this: If they can change the bloody zodiac, then I can change when I want my new year to begin! That’s legit, right? I thought so, too. So this is what I propose. I am going to write January off as a practice month, a rehearsal if you will. This means that the beginning of “my new year” will involve a trip to Chicago and what better way to start my year than with a bit of adventure in a new city! Yes, I much prefer this as a start point.

So here is to the New Year – I am not asking for greedy specifics, just please be kind to me.

Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease

Beks

The Life & Worries of the Unemployed Extraordinaire

For those of you reading this who may or may not know, let me refresh your memory on my current situation. I am a jobless, insurance-less, modern day gypsy who spends her days hunting for that elusive job and her nights between the houses of family and a certain special guy. I do a LOT of film watching, book reading, coffee (whiskey/wine/tea) drinking, and fist shaking at the sky. Aside from the obvious fact that a life of unemployment blows big fat donkey balls, let me voice my biggest concern about this situation.

It all boils down to this massive worry: I feel as if my intelligence is fading with each passing day. Without a job or studies to keep my mind freshly sharpened, I feel like my brain is dulling. I know this may sound absurd to those who have never been in this position but for those who have, please say that you can identify with the maddening effect that this is having on me? For a girl who has always been creative, brainy, and pretty quick with the wit; it is terrifying to feel as if you are losing that part of yourself. It has taken me at least five blog attempts to actually post this because I find myself second guessing everything I write now. Hell, I find myself second guessing every bloody thing I think know! It is as if I don't quite trust my mind anymore - like it's out to sabotage me for the lack of use during the past months. While I recognize how mental I might sound right now, you have to realize the pride that I have always taken in intelligence and creativity. I have never been the it girl or the most athletic or talented girl, but I could always hold on to the fact that I was a creative and smart girl (with the exception of a "few" slip ups along the way). So, to feel as if that is disappearing somehow - I don't like it. I don't like it one bit, folks!

I am a worrier (or completely neurotic - Potato, Pot-ah-to) by nature, so these thoughts of doubt are truly weighing me down. I have typically combated my worry with words but lately those have been silenced by it. So for the love of my sanity (and those nearest & dearest to me), let's hope that my writing and my brain return with some bit of wit and intellect about them. Because let's face it, I need something to hold on to and help me survive life as the Unemployed Extraordinaire!


Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease

Beks

As it turns out, it's not my cuppa tea anymore

Soul searching. These two words have completely consumed my world for the past several months. It all started during my jaunt around Greece and Italy this summer, where self-discovery and adventure flowed like water! I felt myself questioning the choice to move back to England, which is what I had convinced myself that I wanted for so long. But as the travels came to a close, I found myself back in London with an unsettling feeling that I just couldn't place. Even before Beebe (the best friend) left and the job hunt fully commenced, I felt this gnawing in the pit of my stomach telling me that something just wasn't right.

I was in a deep, dark contemplative state for well over a month and for those that know my typical chirpy self, this was not a pretty sight I assure you. Until, I finally reached a decision. A decision that as soon as I said it out loud, it felt like a massive weight had lifted off my shoulders and I might just sprout wings and fly. A decision that involves this gal packing her bags and proudly heading back to the land of her roots. I'm Tennessee bound as of October 1st folks!

Okay, first you'll need to pick those chins up off the floor because I know this is shocking news for most of you. Secondly, let me explain because I know you need details.

Anyone who knows me or has read this blog is very aware of my love for London and wouldn't have guessed in a million years that I would have made this choice. However, what everyone doesn't know is that simply put, I've changed. Apparently this whole turning 27 and "growing up" business causes you to reassess your life and your priorities. I looked back and for the past five years, I haven't lived in any one place for an entire year. I have been running from the real world. I've been running from real responsibilities. It's like I couldn't sit still...always searching for "something". Sure it's been amazing, fun, freeing, full of adventure and discovery! I don't regret a single day of it BUT at some point, this flighty lifestyle of mine has to end. I have to take control of my own life and take full responsibility for myself. I won't go into the gory details of it all but let's just say that I've had to be rescued by my saint of a mother and father more times that I possibly care to count or admit.

No matter where I went, how many wild dreamy ideas I came up with, or how many pickles I got myself into, my family and friends were there to support and help me every step of the way. Which leads me to the number one reason for this decision to move back to Tennessee. When I think of my future, I want them in it! I don't want to be a damned ocean away. I don't want to miss out on their lives, nor do I want them to miss out on mine...the major events, the little bits that most people consider insignificant, none of it. I want to be around for it all! Because the fact of the matter is, it's not where I am, it's the people in my life that bring me happiness and make it all worthwhile. If I've only got one life to live, I want to make damn sure that I'm living the heck out of it surrounded by all my loves!

Sure, there will always be things I miss about London (it is a magical place) and I will forever have a special place for it in my heart, filled with wonderful memories but I now know that this just isn't the place I want to call home. It's kind of a pain in the backside that it took having to come here to figure it out (since my debt has risen to a depressing level and I had to disappoint people I love here along the way) but as I've learned, sometimes life has different plans in store for you. But don't worry London, I'll be back for visits!

As for you Tennessee, you have just over a week to prepare for the south to rise again! *Insert gleeful shouting and uncontrollable excitement here*. I'm so looking forward to starting this new chapter in my life and all the surprises that it has planned for me!


Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease

Beks

What can I say? Little golden men get me every time!

The Oscars. They're like a holiday to me. As soon as that little golden man starts popping up in advertisements and nominations are made, I become a child. A child full of dreams and delight!

When I was a little girl, I spent a lot of my time happily alone. I wasn't awkward around other kids or anything and was actually quite a friendly, playful lil' thing but whereas, most children require constant companionship, I was quite content off on my own (this is just one of the MANY reasons that my mum brags about what an easy and wonderful child I was to raise...in case you were wondering). I spent my days living out extraordinary moments in visually stunning, imaginary worlds that I created for myself. I sat in corners, trees, and closets writing short stories and dreaming up ideas for plays and films. Then I would sketch the clothes and costumes. Then I would act them out with my imaginary friend, Miss Pinky! Miss Pinky was a ballerina dressed entirely in blue and because of this thought it was incredibly funny to be called Miss Pinky.

When I wasn't living wildly in my imagination with Miss Pinky, I watched films. I LOVED films. I would watch them over and over and OVER again (which I'm quite certain, drove my family nutso). I would study each character thoroughly...down to their every mannerism and stitch of clothing. I would then mimic these characters or sometimes bring my own flair to the character. I longed to be captured on that screen or the creator of that story or the "dresser-upper", as I liked to call the costume designer. I wanted to be honored with an Academy Award and would therefore practice my Oscar speech regularly standing in front of the mirror in my moms silkiest night gown with my barbie doll statue held close to my heart as I gushed on and on about all the people that helped get me to that stage. I never shared this with anyone as a wee little girl. It was my own private world, where no one could judge me for my uncontrollable imagination. (Note: I grew up in a VERY small southern town and I thought no one would understand my obsession with films, fashion, and the NEED to discover far off lands and other worlds. Little did I know, that a) my family would have fully supported my weirdo creative spirit and b) many of those people DON'T understand that obsession that still lives on).

So as an intense lover of film, fashion, and photography, the Oscars were my Superbowl! I cheered on my favorite films and gowns like any dedicated fan would but always sat in awe of every artist and every piece of silk or chiffon. I watched with such fervor and desire...and to this very day, I still do.

When I watch an actress, writer, director, or any other creative spirit behind a film step onto that Oscar stage, I have an aching in my heart so intense that I can feel it in the very core of my being. I would KILL (don't worry, not literally) to work in that industry or to be working happily in any industry that I have such an intense passion about. So watching someone accept an honor that many of them have dreamt about their entire lives (like yours truly) and are being recognized for a passion that they've poured every ounce of themselves into gives me a feeling that I honestly find very difficult to put into words. But I will say this...I cry. I cry a LOT. Whoever is lucky enough to watch them with me is usually giggling at my muffled sniffles and probably thinking what a nutter I am. Which quite frankly, I can't argue. I am. Certifiably so! Luckily, that's something I came to terms with years ago and one of the qualities that I admire the most in myself. I am me. Take it or leave it!

So yes, while The Oscars may be just another award show to some but to me, it ignites a desire and a longing to belong to a career and a life where my passions and creative talents are put to use. I have no idea in what manner I want to use those talents because I am a lady of many, MANY interests and passions but I do know this...I want to live in a world where I wake up each day knowing that I'm finally living out a life that little girl swaying in over sized heels, wrapped up in her mothers' red silk nightgown with a barbie that gleamed like gold in her hands would be proud to call her life.


Peace, Love, & Chicken Grease

Beks



GLAM ALERT! Let's not forget a quick list of my absolute favorite fashions of Oscar night:

Anna Kendrick looks like a dainty little rose in this romantic Elie Saab creation

Sarah Jessica Parker never fails and neither does this uniquely beautiful Chanel Couture

Rachel McAdams looks like a vision in watercolors. Thanks again Elie Saab!

Sandy needed that gold statue to go with this GORGEOUS gleaming Marchesa gown

Elizabeth Banks took the carpet by storm in this cloudy colored Versace stunner

Amanda Seyfried lookin' white glam in Armani Privé