Two scenes from my script...get them while they're hot!
( (C) )
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Hi folks.
Lindsay here, human being. Not Lindsay the spunky nerd vlogger, not Lindsay the uppity twitter girl that acts all badass mainly to amuse people. Not Lindsay who watches GH or talks about Star Trek.
Just Lindsay, the almost 21 year old woman who spent her summer holding together a slowly breaking heart.
If you can get past that very emo statement and plan on reading further, then you obviously know I don't say stuff like that lightly, and I truly have stuff I need to get off my chest. It's not in my nature to express my feelings like that. My general belief is that few people really give a damn what I'm feeling, and being all weepy doesn't really help the situation. I'm kind of Vulcan like that, if you excuse my moment of nerdy reference.
I haven't really had the opportunity to talk about what's been going on this summer in my life with many of you. I've mentioned it on Twitter in various posts and some of you responded, but I don't think people really got the whole concept of what was going on, except for Mardou, because I confided in her privately. I used to speak with many of you on a daily basis online if not over the phone, and since summer began I've kind of hidden away from a lot of you mostly to have the opportunity to collect my thoughts privately for a while. That being said, I am also a writer by nature, and these feelings run too deep for me to ignore.
I got rung over the coals by a friend I considered a sister. She forgot the old and unbreakable rule of "bros before hoes", betraying me over a guy. I spent a month watching this betrayal happen. The details are too complicated and painful to really explain save for the main points. I liked a guy, I told my friend I had feelings for him, and she then proceeded to seduce him. Not only did she openly flirt with him, she made backhanded comments to me about how I looked, what I did, how I acted. She plainly didn't want me around and would lie or hide details of her plans so that I couldn't interact with her when he was around. It felt like an out of body exprience, as if someone else was going through all the bullshit, and not me. It was too stunning, too much like the fiction stories soaps dream up for entertainment. I believed this person valued me as the friend who truly knew her better than any other, better than family. She had her faults, and I never judged them, and I accepted her no matter what, for years.
I still do not know why she directed such wrathful treatment towards me. Think to yourself of the friend you search for most; the girl or guy that can finish your sentences, that quotes the same random movies you do; the friend you drove with down a dark highway, music blaring, talking about the future. Imagine that person, and imagine making blatant and specific decisions to actively hurt that person...without motive. Just because you felt like it.
I wasn't stupid. I knew about a week after confiding in my friend that I had feelings for this guy that her behavior towards him suddenly changed. I took mental notes at her actions, her words, and shook my head in disbelief day after day as the evidence of what she was doing grew steadily higher. It's one thing to go after a guy, but what was worse than the blatant seduction techniques was the tactics she used at excluding me from social stuff, then later she would brag about going here and going there and doing this, and doing that. Even when I was pretty sure she'd slept with him, she told me to my face that she was going after his best friend.
The moment I got vicious confirmation that my friend had really and truly decided to go down this road and violate our frienship, I felt a heaviness in my chest that hasn't really completely left yet. It's not over the guy, truly. I didn't know him well enough to be hurt by his interest in her and not me. It's nothing new--guys being uninterested in me or only seeing me as a friend. I can take that, I'm a big girl. He's just one more in a group of disappointing crushes, and he won't be the last.
No, the real heartbreak has been the death of years of memories. That's what it feels like, a death, but no funeral. When I got all the information I needed about what she chose to do to me, I cut off all contact to her.
They're dating now. It's actually quite comical and everyone who knows her drama has rolled their eyes at the whole thing. I feel bad for him, of course, since he has no idea about her history like those of us who have known her for years. For example, she confided to a friend of mine only a day before their official "facebook relationship status change" that she had no interest in being anything more than friends with him and that I was essentially "upset" for nothing. It's amazing how much she yapped about her flirtations being all in my head until I dropped her from my life, when suddenly the truth came out. Lying and theatrics, however, are a part of her character. I've dealt with it for years and figured as long as she didn't use it against me, well...we all have our issues.
It's taken a lot of time, but I'm finally able to accept that I did nothing wrong. That I was genuinely hurt by someone I cared for, with no motivation. For a little while I felt like I was losing my mind, seeing things that weren't there, seeing her manipulating things when she could have been innocent. It's obvious now, though, that these feelings of madness were actually moments I was attempting to give my friend the benefit of the doubt, something I believe friends should do for one another, something I doubt she would ever give me.
So my friend has turned into an enemy, and my life continues on. My hearts still here, holding itself together now, but I can still feel the stitches pulling when I think too hard about the whole mess.
I'm not sure why I wrote this...Probably because I had this dream about the whole thing that I haven't been able to shake. Maybe I wrote this it's so I can remind myself when need be that I am strong, that I can and will survive. Maybe I just needed an outlet to collect my thoughts. I don't know. It's no great tragedy. A lot of you are going through things a million times worse in perspective. My issue has been just another case of female drama, but it was my case of female drama, you know? We all have that moment in our lives, I guess, when that word "friend' gets used and abused. We all will deal with it in our own ways. Just another inevitable piece of life, I suppose.
Thank you, Mardou, for talking to me this whole time. Your patience has been the most important part of getting through this.
All right. Had my orientation at my college today. Needed to try and find perspective, so I made a list of pros and cons of my new school compared to my old school. Ignoring my frustration over all the ridiculous and asinine courses I'm required to take (as if a Radio/TV/Film major really needs to take nine hours of science), there are some good things about this school.
Pros:
-Old architecture. Beautiful campus, has that "college" feel.
-It's large, like a mini world.
-Beautiful old trees all over campus that shade the place...my old school had palm trees...not good for the shade.
-Quiet and peaceful atmosphere.
-People seem friendly and diverse.
-Hippies. Lots of them.
-School colors are green and white. Green is sexy.
-Fry Street is just off campus and it's a total blast for late night life.
-NOT HUMID. NOT HUMID. NOT. HUMID. Dry, breezy, cool air.
-Not as confusing...for such a little school, my old campus was a clusterfuck. There was no coordination between buildings.
-Lots of seating all over campus, from benches to little work tables...nice. You don't know how important that is until you need a quiet place to sit.
-IT HAS A RADIO/TV/FILM BUILDING...There's actually a building on campus whose sole purpose is RTVF...that is amazing.
Cons:
-Stupid...stupid...stupid required courses beyond the Texas required cores that don't seem to really take into account the needs of individual majors. Wouldn't it be more logical for me to be required to take more social sciences as opposed to natural sciences? As a tv/film student, I should have more emphasis in studies like sociology, culture, psychology as opposed to astronomy or physics. I'm just saying, if you're going to require certain things, let it be helpful.
-....While it is also a pro, the campus IS really big...and that might be a bad thing in some cases.
-There are stairs everywhere. The campus is old (and beautiful) but not friendly for the kneecaps.
-While it's a miracle the school has a RTVF building...that suggests how competitive the major is...It will be intense and hard to stand out.
-I've run into a fair share of pretentious douchebags in a short amount of time...I fear it is the hippie influence gone amok. Hopefully I can simply show them I won't be talked down to.
Good things about the town: ...Had fun last night in the bar scene...I don't drink, and everyone knows this about me, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a night on the town sober. The nightlife is hopping on a little street right off of campus where some bars are. The bar we went to had pool tables and that was fun to watch the guys play...(By we, I mean my friend Meg, her boyfriend and his posse). There was a dude on the guitar butchering some of my favorite songs as he covered them, but other than that it was cool. Later we went to a Hookah lounge and I was unimpressed. I tried the stuff (it's like...flavored tobacco...) and I thought to myself "this is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done". I mean...what's the point of having the faint taste of strawberry-vanilla in your mouth? I mean...get a piece of candy and save $15. I couldn't even smoke it right...I wasn't grasping the concept. However, the whole place was blacklight and they had these highlighters on the tables so you could draw on each other....and that was fun. Doodling is always fun. Neat concept.
Bad things about the town: No matter where I go, or what town I'm in, there are still douchebags that are bothered by the fact I don't drink. They look at me like I'm speaking Vulcan. I have no issue with people who do drink, I can keep up with the party and be sober, thank you very much, and it NO it is NOT your business concerning my reasons for choosing not to drink. They are my own reasons. I guess I just don't understand why it matters so much to people...More beer for them, you know? And hey, designated driver! So shut your fucking mouth and stop asking stupid questions.
I don't know guys...this new life of mine will certainly be more complicated.
This concludes the testing of the emergency broadcasting system.
So, tonight, I went to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine at the local theater. That's simple enough, right? Me and my audience folk are minding our own business, watching Hugh Jackman be badass, when all of a sudden (spoiler alert!) Wolverine screams "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" so loud that it echoes the trees and birds fly and yada yada.
Typical overdramatic action movie reaction, right?
In my theater, there's this girl that comes in just as he's yelling. She walks down to the front row and says really loudly "Why's he always yelling?". Someone yells back at her to shut up and sit down, but she just stops in her tracks and asks "who the fuck just said that!?"
Collective groan throughout the audience. This was going to get worse before it got better.
She starts roaming around the front rows looking for the person who told her to shut up, all the while yelling at them. This secret person of course is screaming back at her to take her seat.
That's when things get nuttier. She then screams "I JUST FOUND OUT I HAVE CANCER AND I'M TRYING TO MAKE LIGHT OF IT!"
Face, meet palm.
What...the hell...
She then continues to scream about how terrible her cancer is, and how apparently this gives her the right to yell and creep around the front rows of the theater. I mean, if she is telling the truth, that's sad...but....what in the hell?
She basically continues to have a nervous breakdown while looking for the person(s) who heckled at her, all the while the audience is growing more and more frustrated with the entire situation as it grows steadily more awkward. Security and another guy that may or may not have been with the girl essentially drag her out as she continues to yell about how this is her last birthday and she's going to die, and she just wanted to have fun.
...WTF. I've got nuthin.
Swirling, twirling, whirling lights flitted across the room. They were the kind of lights you could still feel even with your eyes closed. It was that kind of night, that kind of baptism, one of sight and sound and sexually charged display. Seeking oblivion, she had slipped into the blackness of the room, into the center of the heat that entombed hundreds of Saturday night partiers. The heels were high, the skirts were short. A booming techno beat trapped everyone inside the dance floor with its hypnotic rhythm. Only the lucky ones were paired up, otherwise people seemed to simply be dancing solo in a mass of chaotic movement. Men skulked around looking for the women they could ask to dance; women preferred dancing alone or with other women than with the skulkers. Bodies pressed together; elbows, knees, sweat, hair. The claustrophobic need not come.
The club was, to say the least, hopping. Rippling too, and rocking, and rumbling. Brooke hadn’t subjected herself to this sort of torture in a long time, but tonight it felt appropriate. Clubbing was fun when you were with friends celebrating. But to slip on your sluttiest ensemble just to willingly throw yourself into an intoxicated crowd of weekend partiers for the sole purpose of hoping the black hole on the dance floor would swallow you up…well…it was a little pathetic. Sometimes she just want to make a human connection, though. Human connections were easy to come by in the illicit atmosphere, and no one was that picky after a few shots. --property of lindsayd
Speaking of shots, Brooke had sucked down more than just a few by her second hour in the club. A few annoying dealers offered her Ecstasy, but she swatted them away. Brooke didn’t "bounce", she rolled. And right now, she just wanted to roll all the dark thoughts inside her mind right on out of her head. The only way to do that was to keep drinking, and keep dancing. The alcohol would burn her, the dancing would exhaust her, and eventually all that would be left if she did this right would be a small puddle of Brooke, life destroyer extraordinaire.
The ravers, the freaks, the guys who wanted to slip something in your drink, the sluts, the good dancers, the bad dancers, the dancers who thought they were Michael Jackson, druggies swapping Ecstasy, wallflowers, the regular people who just came out to the club looking for something to do, the men who hadn’t yet realized they were in their forties and weren’t apart of the scene anymore, everyone was in attendance tonight.
--property of lindsayd
Just enough people to lose yourself in, just enough people to find yourself in.
Dexter— A Twisted Crime Drama
Dexter (based on the novel Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay) is a television series on Showtime based around the title character’s life as a forensics analyst by day and a serial killer by night. The show asks the audience to reevaluate what their expectations for a monster really are. It has gone through three seasons so far, with a generally positive response from critics and fans alike. The popularity of Dexter seems to be centered on superb acting of the main actor, Michael C. Hall, its narrative structure, and an ability to redefine the expectations of a crime drama.
The first truly wonderful thing about Dexter is that it presents to you a different type of protagonist. Imagine it like this: footsteps fall lightly on the pavement behind you as you make a path down an empty street. It’s late, the darkness has already settled in and the only guide down the sidewalk is the light from the orange glow of lampposts. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Someone is behind you. A mugger? The Boogieman? Just another lonely walker traversing the dark night? The pace of your walk quickens as you consider the possibilities. Perhaps a detour down a different block is warranted, just to be on the safe side. A million different visions flash through your mind of what the person behind you might look like. You take a chance and toss a glance over your shoulder.
Most likely, there is an expectation in your mind of what your shadow looks like, and it is safe to wager that the person you have developed in your mind looks nothing like Dexter Morgan, the show’s main character, a thirty-something year old man who works as a blood spatter analyst for the Miami Police Department. At work, Dexter is respected as a thorough investigator with a pleasant sensibility. He’s the guy that brings the donuts each morning, passing them out to his colleagues with a grin and morning greeting. However, there is really nothing run of the mill about Dexter Morgan. The face he shows the world—the average white male—is a farce, a mask he puts on to hide his menacing side. From an early age, Dexter felt the urge to cause harm to others. He has a need to kill, as powerful as the need to breathe. In order to function in society, he lives by a code. Dexter’s victims are only other murderers.
In most television shows, Dexter would be the villain. It’s a hard pill to swallow to find you are rooting for a serial killer. “Dexter Morgan,” television critic Ginia Bellafante of the New York Times explains, “is continually differentiating himself, in ways both philosophical and mundane, from the street-grade sociopaths pulp fiction and local news have accustomed us to” (Television Review 2008). This initial twist presenting a demented main character makes it a unique viewing experience for the audience. The shocking difference between him and other protagonists from most television shows sneaks up on the audience just like the shadow in the alleyway. He is not harmless or benevolent, and there is a monster within.
Dexter is played by Michael C. Hall of Six Feet Under fame, and his portrayal is always praised as the strongest point of the show. “Hall does the seemingly impossible,” critic Mary Mcnamara of the Los Angeles Times hails. “He makes real a serial killer who is as ruthless as he is sympathetic. Not since Anthony Hopkins gave us Hannibal Lecter have we had a murderer with such dinner party appeal” (“New TV Season”). Hall is no stranger to portraying complicated, multi-layered characters. Six Feet Under was a series on HBO where Hall portrayed David Fisher, a homosexual funeral attendant. He also received a lot of acclaim in that role. The switch from Six Feet Under to Dexter seems appropriate. Fisher’s character not only dealt with the darkness of death in an everyday setting, but he also had a secretive nature with his gay lifestyle. In Fisher, Hall created one memorable character based on darkness and secrets and obviously took some of that familiarity to the role of Dexter. This time as the complete focus of the show, Hall was able to take the duality of an everyday family man and mix it with the unyielding creepiness of a serial killer. For his portrayal, Hall been nominated for an Emmy as Best Dramatic Actor two years in a row.
The show essentially takes this amazingly unique protagonist and inserts it into the established world of crime drama, marrying the two devices of character and genre into a darker show. “I'm neither man nor beast,” Dexter states, adding “I'm something new entirely. With my own set of rules” (“Let’s Give the Boy a Hand” 2006). He works just slightly out of the bounds of average and normal, in the realm of the uncanny. The creators of Dexter have taken the forensic analyst made popular in similar shows like CSI or even the X-Files and twisted it completely. It isn’t just about catching the bad guy and letting the justice system have its way. In fact, one could argue that the audience is encouraged to see the law lose just so Dexter can give murderers what they ‘really’ deserve. Therefore, the audience gets the familiarity of the typical crime drama with the standard investigations of complicated clues that lead down a rabbit hole to an the criminal. All of the important characters are represented—cops, detectives, police chiefs, and of course forensic analyst like Dexter. However, in this crime drama there is usually no trial or arrest. Instead, the serial killer binds his “victim” (or deserving criminal) to a table and shows him or her pictures of the people they killed just before Dexter exacts his bloody justice to quench his own blood lust.
Also, unlike most crime dramas, there is a large blur between right and wrong. There is a huge opportunity for interaction and civil discourse to happen with Dexter as a catalyst. Is it okay that Dexter kills murderers? Is the death penalty any more justified than Dexter? And while most crime dramas allow for the law to be the ultimate winner, Dexter discusses the flaws of the legal system, because if it worked perfectly Dexter would have no one to kill. Also, in this day and age, Americans have to deal with notions of terrorism and rabid crime in the homeland. It has become second nature to most to associate criminals with minority groups or impoverished people. Whether this is a fair judgment or not, racial and social profiling exists. Dexter Morgan is a terrifying monster because of the fact that he defies society’s expectations of a killer.
One of the other things that make the show so much fun to watch is the humor that is wrought throughout the episodes, even in the midst of such sick and twisted action. It’s somewhat unexpected and yet ultimately fitting to hear a serial killer’s inner monologue as he goes through his day, filled with his own musings and sarcastic remarks. Perhaps the show couldn’t be popular without it. If there was presented no moment to have a laugh, even a dark and sadistic laugh, the audience might find it hard to swallow some of the horror they experience in seeing their protagonist murder. The voiceover Hall delivers is dry but somewhat charming and acts as a cushion between the harsh reality of the subject manner and the audience. The humor is not limited to Dexter’s mind though. Often, Dexter has to interact with friends and family with a tone of innocence even when he is anything but that. “The initial shot of Sunday’s premiere offers the sinister image of medical knives, a needle and a syringe, the unsettling sound of a drill” accounts Bellafante, adding:
The camera pans to reveal Dexter (Michael C. Hall) in a dentist’s chair. The dentist is asking him how he spent his summer, and Dexter happily obliges with euphemisms: he made some new friends, acquired a few hobbies, did a little boating — all of which is to say that he continued his escapades in vigilante killing, filed away some trophy DNA and got rid of the bodies. Warned that the procedure he is about to undergo might result in a little blood, Dexter smiles his practiced smile and assures the dentist that it won’t be a problem. (Television Review 2008)
The juxtaposition of the mundane real world issues of dentistry with the darkness of Dexter’s world allows the audience to be in on the joke. It helps the connection between Dexter and the audience grow stronger, aiding in the popularity of the series by softening the darkness just enough to allow people to enjoy the story being told each week. Without the humor, Dexter would be an entirely different show.
Then there is the narrative structure of the show. It is a cumulative narrative, as each episode tends to include Dexter going after a “murderer of the week” while also having a lot of serial elements. One episode is not exclusive to the other; so long time viewers are rewarded with new complications each week. “As with the first flight -- which I initially reviewed unfavorably before being absorbed by the show -- the storytelling becomes richer and more engrossing as the season progresses” Variety reporter Brian Lowry explains (“Dexter”). Each season so far has followed the same structure of developing a story in the first episode, allowing for a climax and resolution at the season’s end. There is a lot to be gained by watching Dexter each week that it is on because the narrative grows and develops more from one episode to the next. At the same time, when Dexter sets his eyes on a new victim, he has to go through the ritual of proving the person is actually a killer and sets up the perfect way to catch them, ultimately exacting his justice. For new viewers, this makes an episode of an individual experience, allowing them to enjoy his kill of the week without having to be invested. Though, the experience is probably more fulfilling for the continuous viewer, encouraging you to tune in each time see where the complicated story goes next.
Dexter does two things. It represents the monster we fear the most—the one we will never see coming, by blending in to scenery of everyday life and using our own expectations against us, getting away with murder. At the same time, it taps into that rarely discussed or acknowledged side that people have on occasion, the side that seeks vengeance for the injustices in the world. Dexter’s character can do what we cannot—make things balanced in the world. The audience is allowed to indulge in grotesque anarchy within the familiarity of a crime drama, horrified and laughing at the same time. For an hour each week, everything and nothing is right in the world, which is why Dexter is such a powerful television show.
