following world!
The first event for the documentary is planned! The hotel room is booked! Comicon 2009 in Seattle Washington with my good friends the Raptorbreasts!!!!! (and co.)
excited to bring this to you in a shot feature length clip that will then make part of the larger piece, which will be screened eventually....
having an amazing, awesome fun week, and for the first time in what feels like YEARS I can confidently state that I, Jess Moretti, am happy. I'm thrilled!
love,
sooooo excited!
ps: i start tutoring a pro soccer player next week. jealous yet?? ;)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
spring 2009 . 1
Dear unknown world!
This was the first week of spring, and as the first week where new life is formed, I believe that it's important to begin a "new life" as well. So here it goes, I guess. I used to think of it wherever I went; I used to see restaurants where secrets were shared, parking lots where the boundaries of comfort were pushed, colors that reminded me of the blues and grays in that gaze that made me melt, but I find that the more I replace and the less I repress, the better it all gets.
The thing is there is pain everywhere. There is secrecy, and pain, and risk. Everywhere you turn, you run the risk of getting hurt. You get on a pair of skates, you run the risk of slicing your fingers off. After you bleed out long enough, though, everything seems kinda easier. I mean, the pain (I don't think at least) ever goes away, but it sure gets easier to deal with. So here's my plan. I've already replaced all the necessary memories with newer better ones, minus one here and there. IMAX with Steph and Derek, out of town with Steph, faced the gym, faced the pool with Shalaney, slept on campus, been in another golf, winners date, I'm facing all of this, every single day. It's hard when you've made your whole life about someone else and it goes away like a bandaid that gets ripped from your eyebrow...but! manageable. So, I manage. No longer the last man I kissed, no longer the last man I hugged, or danced with. And while the idea of intimacy, of allowing myself to be THAT vulnerable makes me feel like vomiting, I can finally imagine that things may be better this way.
Today I was high. On Vitamin D, because it had been so long since the sun kissed me that I forgot what it felt like. Today, I got excited about the possibility of accomplishing one thing on my 15 point to do list: surfing. On the 27th of April, Stephanie and I will board a plane to San Francisco, where we will see sights and love every minute of it. We're going to take a few days and drive to L.A. and surf the sick ass waves of the west coast, and I'm psyched. If you would have asked me back on my birthday, whether or not I would ever go to surf in L.A., I would have said, not without him. To which he would have responded, I don't surf. To which I would have smiled, because I was a fucken idiot back on my birthday. Being less idiotic now, I'm going to take tomorrow by the balls, and smile more. And book a hostel in San Fran, or me and Steph are going to be sleeping in a tent on the beach. hmmm........
Spring 2009 makes me happy, because I am finally looking in the mirror and telling myself that I'm worth so, SO much more love than a tattered novel thrown at me on the eve of the date of my birth. Yeah. Don't ask.
Keep it real!
Sincerely,
Jessica
ps: reccomendation of the week, The Yale for Brickhouse on Sunday nights. And dancing with Greg.
This was the first week of spring, and as the first week where new life is formed, I believe that it's important to begin a "new life" as well. So here it goes, I guess. I used to think of it wherever I went; I used to see restaurants where secrets were shared, parking lots where the boundaries of comfort were pushed, colors that reminded me of the blues and grays in that gaze that made me melt, but I find that the more I replace and the less I repress, the better it all gets.
The thing is there is pain everywhere. There is secrecy, and pain, and risk. Everywhere you turn, you run the risk of getting hurt. You get on a pair of skates, you run the risk of slicing your fingers off. After you bleed out long enough, though, everything seems kinda easier. I mean, the pain (I don't think at least) ever goes away, but it sure gets easier to deal with. So here's my plan. I've already replaced all the necessary memories with newer better ones, minus one here and there. IMAX with Steph and Derek, out of town with Steph, faced the gym, faced the pool with Shalaney, slept on campus, been in another golf, winners date, I'm facing all of this, every single day. It's hard when you've made your whole life about someone else and it goes away like a bandaid that gets ripped from your eyebrow...but! manageable. So, I manage. No longer the last man I kissed, no longer the last man I hugged, or danced with. And while the idea of intimacy, of allowing myself to be THAT vulnerable makes me feel like vomiting, I can finally imagine that things may be better this way.
Today I was high. On Vitamin D, because it had been so long since the sun kissed me that I forgot what it felt like. Today, I got excited about the possibility of accomplishing one thing on my 15 point to do list: surfing. On the 27th of April, Stephanie and I will board a plane to San Francisco, where we will see sights and love every minute of it. We're going to take a few days and drive to L.A. and surf the sick ass waves of the west coast, and I'm psyched. If you would have asked me back on my birthday, whether or not I would ever go to surf in L.A., I would have said, not without him. To which he would have responded, I don't surf. To which I would have smiled, because I was a fucken idiot back on my birthday. Being less idiotic now, I'm going to take tomorrow by the balls, and smile more. And book a hostel in San Fran, or me and Steph are going to be sleeping in a tent on the beach. hmmm........
Spring 2009 makes me happy, because I am finally looking in the mirror and telling myself that I'm worth so, SO much more love than a tattered novel thrown at me on the eve of the date of my birth. Yeah. Don't ask.
Keep it real!
Sincerely,
Jessica
ps: reccomendation of the week, The Yale for Brickhouse on Sunday nights. And dancing with Greg.
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