On my list

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I was listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast and he, Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington were chatting about things, including death and such. And then I thought about how often I say, “I’m putting that on my list” – meaning, I refer to something that I want to explore/do/see/etc…

So, this led me to sit down and do my next blog on making a list of twenty-one things (I like odd numbers) that I absolutely must do before I pass on to the next level, whatever that may be. (And maybe, after reading this, you might want to write your own. You never know, writing it down may crystallize things so that when opportunities arise or become even remotely possible, you jump on them…)

1. drive a Ferrari, on a road I can do at least 100mph

2. spend a month in Italy, speaking the language fluently

3. have at least one feature film distributed in all the major cities (preferably worldwide, but I’d accept this, considering the business I chose…)

4. visit Liverpool

5. visit each continent, at least once

6. meet Jonathan Franzen

7. meet Francis Ford Coppola, not from chance but from purpose

8. work at a vineyard, at least for a day

9. visit the gravesites of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Victor Hugo

10. scuba dive

11. fall in love with someone who makes me laugh and continually surprises me, and I do that for them

12. read the Bible

13. climb a mountain

14. publish something

15. learn something new each and every day I’m conscious

16. ride in a hot air balloon

17. own a dog that looks like Toto, who I name Lenny (after John Lennon, of course)

18. kiss someone who makes me go weak in the knees

19. invent something I can patent

20. meet Kenneth Lonergan and tell him how much his film “you can count on me” changed my life

21. never settle

Beautiful

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When I was sixteen, my high school boyfriend gave me a bottle of perfume. It was “Beautiful” by Estee Lauder. It was Valentine’s Day and he handed it to me while I was in the front seat of his car. (I was a sophomore and he was a senior. He was voted class clown. Funny, yes. Romantic, not exactly.)

But little did he know that I would fall in love with the scent and wear it until I was thirty-two years old.

Now, I am not a creature of habit. I embrace change and seek it out, but with my perfume I was the exact opposite. Wearing the same scent year after year, and LOVING it, I could care less if others didn’t. The smell simply made me happy. But some people called me out on it and I started to think, hm…. maybe I should branch out there, try something new…

So, last year, I decided, okay, I will stop wearing Beautiful, even though I had been doing so for the past SIXTEEN years. I went to Sephora, and God bless them, they offer you the opportunity to spend the money you would on a new bottle of perfume but before committing to one scent, they give you twelve samples of certain popular sprays to try and then once you decide on the one that you want, you just come in and get it. I thought, this is perfect for someone like me. And I tried all twelve scents. Over and over. Not crazy about any of them, thinking they don’t smell nearly as good as “Beautiful”, I forced myself to decide on one. So, I went with “Bright Crystal” by Versace.

And I’ve been wearing that scent and a couple of others I’ve picked up along the way for the past year… but they just don’t do it for me. Not only do I not get the comments from others that I smell great, I don’t think I do either. As crazy as this will sound, “Beautiful” was made to mesh with my body and none of these other perfumes were. That’s the bottom line.

So at the end of 2010, which I like to think of as “experiment with perfume” year,  I decided, enough. I tried to change and it didn’t work. I love and will always love “Beautiful.”

I went onto the esteelauder.com site, bought the perfume I’ve missed and waited for its arrival.

Today, it came.

I sprayed it on quickly. Smelled it immediately and realized, yes. This is the one.

And that’s when it hit me.

This is what I’m waiting for in terms of men. heehee. He needs to be my “Beautiful” perfume in a non-literal way and it needs to feel just like this.

But until he comes along, at least I have my scent back…

Best of 2010

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Some things stand out. And some of those are unfortunately not included here due to a failure in memory.

Best of 2010…according to Christina Parisi (in no order of importance)

1. some amazing films – Blue Valentine, The Fighter, Inception and Babies

2. Apple’s iPhone 4

3. some great new albums – LCD Soundsystem “This is Happening”, Eminem “Recovery”, & The Clientele “Minotaur”

4. some balance in political power

5. the end of “don’t ask don’t tell”

6. Jonathan Franzen’s long-awaited fictional work “Freedom” – a genius observer of humanity

7. LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip concert at The Hollywood Bowl – electric!

8. showing my short film “Rhythm of Causality” on the big screen at the Buffalo Niagara Film Festival. Not only was I born in Buffalo and have a ton of family there, but the screening was in the very theater where my father had once been employed as an usher.

9. meeting a 96-year-old woman at the bank who was sharper than some thirty-year-old’s I know.

10. seeing one of my favorite bands “The Clientele” at Spaceland and being maybe ten feet from them.

Now on to 2011…

It’s healthy to disagree.

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Today, someone asked me if we were still friends because a few days ago we had disagreed about something. And I replied that we were, indeed, still friends.

But this got me thinking about disagreeing… While I firmly believe it is more than okay to agree to disagree with friends, loved ones and even enemies, I wonder how others feel about this. If we were all replicas of one another, wouldn’t that be boring? And who wants friends who only agree with them? I don’t know about you, but I like when others disagree or see things from a different perspective because it will either reinforce my beliefs or open my mind to a new way of thinking, and both of those things are beneficial, so what’s wrong with that?

I have, of course, come across others who do not appreciate differing points of views, those who try and try to either push their beliefs as the right and only way of thinking or get personal and attack my way of thinking if it’s in disagreement with their own. I often wonder why one would feel the need to do so… and while I think it says more about them as people than anything else, I still wonder…

Disagreeing is healthy, I believe, as long as one holds respect for differing points of view and places no imposition upon another person, such as forcing their beliefs upon another. Once that happens, freedom is taken away and that’s when one must fight. But if this imposition does not occur, isn’t disagreeing a challenge of the minds? And isn’t that exciting? I think so. But if you don’t, why not? Are you not comfortable with your own thoughts? Do you need others to validate your beliefs or are you confident in them?

We live in a world were there is a lot of information, some valid, some false, some fabricated, some factual, and etc. It is up to us to decipher what is meaningful to us and what isn’t and then deal with the consequences. Others can indeed teach us new things or lead us to strengthening our own beliefs and principles but what is there to fear from disagreeing if one remains respectful and non-forceful?

I have learned many things from those I disagree with and have in turn, changed my own beliefs. At the same time, others have told me they have learned from my beliefs and have changed their own. To me, this is beautiful and makes life interesting.

The next time someone disagrees with you or you disagree with someone else, what if you just stop. Think if you truly do agree or disagree. And rather than get upset or personal and go into attack mode, you state your own beliefs respectfully and engage them in an intellectual discussion.

You never know what you might learn, or teach…

Finding your calmness

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What I find to be an interesting story…

The other day, I was walking with a close friend of mine to our cars after a party. She was parked on the street outside the parking lot that I had parked in, but since she didn’t know the area too well, she planned on waiting for me to exit the lot and then follow me to the freeway entrance. So, I walked to my car, got in and proceeded to go down this little hill incline from the lot to an alley that would deposit me right behind her if I turned onto the street she was parked on… except, whoops! What I thought was an incline turned out to be more like a curb and when I causally started to move my car down it, EKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! My car got stuck!

Okay, I think. I’ve definitely been in some interesting car situations before (ask anyone who’s driven with me) so I get out the car to survey the damage. My friend also gets out of her car, seeing what’s just occurred and tells me, “Uh, Christina, your back tires are in the air.” Turns out my car was not going anywhere. The little incline, which was more like a curb, made my car stuck and while the bottom of my car held it in place, the wheels in the back were raised above the ground. As my friend and I tried to lift the back of the car to push it down, we didn’t get anywhere because no one was in the driver’s seat to move it. But then, lo and behold, a very nice guy who just happened to be walking by asked if we needed help. Such a sweetheart! He and my friend, who mind you is a cute little thing that probably weighs little more than a buck five, lifted my car as I accelerated and whoosh…. my car scrapes down the hill. Of course, the bottom scratches like a DJ scratching a record but it gets down and I get out to thank the nice guy, as I notice my dear friend got water sprayed all over here. Oh yeah, forgot to mention it had been raining. Anyway, the guy smiles and takes off as I ask my friend if she thinks my car’s okay. She says probably not and then mentions that she can’t believe how calm I am about the whole thing.

And that’s when it hit me. I was really calm. I figured, hell, shit happens and what I thought was a smooth hill turned out not to be but what? Should I yell and cry about it? What’s that gonna do? Nothing, but make the situation worse. Turns out I was lucky though and I didn’t hit anything under my car that mattered.

But the thing that really stayed with me was this…

I found my calmness. And I’m not letting it go.

Who would have thought?

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The other day, I was babysitting a sixteen-month old baby overnight. He was quite active in the evening with playing, having me read book after book, walking on my legs and running around the couch. But he eventually passed out in my arms after a warm bottle of milk somewhere between ten and ten thirty.

Then, however, around three in the morning, he woke in the playpen/crib that stood right beside my bed. Now, I’m not a parent and have no plans to be, but this young man is very special to me and I find myself doing things for him that I’ve never found myself doing for anyone else. Nor did I think I ever would, for anyone. Things such as changing a poopy diaper or getting up at five thirty in the morning to see him or sharing my food or being content to sit in a room for two hours and not do the work I have piling up but instead play hide-n-seek over and over because it puts a smile on his face that is absolutely priceless. But here it was, three in the morning, with me going on only three maybe four hours of sleep and really wanting more, and this young man deciding it’s time to get up and only sleep in my arms. He would not sleep on a pillow, on a couch, in his crib – no. To be fair, he was willing to sleep side by side me in my bed but his parents want that to stop. So without that as an option, he had to be held, either in my arms or resting on my shoulder. And the second I put him down in his crib, he immediately knew and started to cry. I would tell myself, okay, I’ll hold him until he falls asleep for ten minutes and then set him down. But sure enough, the second I tried, WHAH!!!!!! And back in my arms he would go.

But by four thirty, after an hour and a half of this little game, I decided enough. I put him in the crib and instead of picking him up when he cried, I got inside there with him. He kinda looked at me funny, almost like “what the hell are you doing in here?” and then he patted my face with a big smile, like “oh, you silly silly adult” but he got a kick out of it, curled up next to my contorted body and proceeded to fall asleep. So then, I got out of the crib. And yes, you guessed it. He woke up like clockwork but this time, instead of crying and demanding to be held, he understood that he needed to sleep in his crib. He watched me lay down in my bed and then he proceeded to lay down in the crib. It was almost like he finally got what was going on. It was sleep time. Not in my arms, but in his bed. And within about ten minutes, he was out like a light.

Everyday is a day of thanks…

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As Thanksgiving Day 2010 approaches in a few hours, I’ve started thinking about what it means to be thankful. Truly THANKFUL. And I’ve deduced while it’s very easy to say one is thankful for something or raise their glass in cheers to thanks over a turkey dinner, it’s quite difficult to actually value the things one is thankful for and live accordingly.

Allow me to ask a few questions:
Are you thankful for your parents? And if so, do you let them know and show them your gratitude?
Are you thankful for your children? And if so, are you in their lives as a responsible parent and let them know how thankful you are for them in the way you treat them?
Are you thankful for the freedom you enjoy in America? And if so, are you thankful to the many people who’ve shed their own blood so that you can enjoy it?
Are you thankful for your health? And if so, do you appreciate it by treating your body well?
Are you thankful for the love you receive from others? And if so, do you return it and let them know your appreciation?

I ask these questions as examples of what it truly means to be thankful and how a day out of the year may remind us of what we are thankful for, the thanks do not begin nor stop there.

My parents never celebrate Valentine’s Day because to them, every day is Valentine’s Day. Flowers may be nice to get on one’s birthday but they don’t account for days of mistreatment. While Thanksgiving may provide us Americans a special day in which we all give thanks, should it really be any different than any other day?

Perhaps on Thanksgiving this year, instead of giving thanks on just this small window of time, you use it to remind yourself that everyday is Thanksgiving.

We as Americans are fortunate to live in a society in which we are granted our own “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” While we may disagree on politics, and some have a tougher time than others in their pursuit of happiness, this freedom can not be denied.

For that, I am thankful. Each and every day. Well, for that and… my family, friends and health.

Fun with your name

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C – Christina

H – Hearing

R – Reality

I – Identity

S – Savor

T – Timeless

I – Individual

N – Noticing

A – A Filmmaker

Now, write out the letters of your first name and then fill in words you think represent you!

It’s fun and will make you think of what you stand for, so why not??

You’re how old?

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The other night, I was at a bar where the scene was quiet young. And by young, I mean those who just became legal to drink. My friend and I were chatting with some people and I believe it was I who had mentioned the crowd was rather young at this particular bar and so, our ages came up. When this cute young girl said she thought I was twenty-five, I corrected her by telling her, “Nope, thirty-three.” And it was at this point where her jaw dropped. LITERALLY DROPPED. She couldn’t believe it. To her, thirty-three was old.

A different night, I was talking to a man in his later fifties and asked him the well-known question by Satchel Paige, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?” He answered that he would be in his early to mid thirties, remarking that it would be old enough to know himself and have certain knowledge of such. To him, that was the age he felt.

As I embark fully into my thirties, having recently turned thirty-three, I find myself thinking about age and whether it really matters or not. I suppose in terms of biology, it does. For example, a woman who wants to carry a baby must biologically be able to do so or the biological fact that we cannot live forever, but otherwise, does it really matter?

Clearly, we must mature into adulthood, but is there a single answer as to what “adulthood” is? I don’t believe so. For some, it’s getting married and having children. For others, it’s being independent and going after a demanding life dream. Or maybe a combination of both. I suppose it’s whatever is important and meaningful to that particular individual. Being one who has opted to go after the difficult livelihood of a filmmaker and not want the traditional adulthood of home, kids, etc… I find that I may perhaps think less about age than others, but regardless, I wonder why age itself would limit or define someone, with exception to reproduction and mortality. I plan on listening to the music I love until I die, I plan on seeing concerts until I’m unable to leave the house, I plan on making movies until I am physically no longer able to and I plan on living like I’m the age I feel, not the age I am, until my clock stops ticking.

Must age dictate what we can or cannot do?

Sure, we age every day, but while we are living, why not live as though we don’t? Yeah, we have to be aware of reality but what is age really, other than a measurement of our time on earth? There is no chart that says one must do X by so and so age. You create your own chart.

I’m thirty-three and have never had a full cup of coffee.

The next time you find yourself saying, “I’m too old for that” – ask yourself  – Why, exactly?

And then ponder this thoughtful question:

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?”
– Satchel Paige

Labeling

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Today, someone asked me if I minded if others perceive me as something I do not believe myself to be. And my answer to him was roughly, “No, not at all.”

I may have stumped this person, or perhaps he understood. I’m not sure. But it started me thinking about why I don’t mind it and what that means.

I used to care greatly about what others thought of me. And to some degree, I still battle caring, but since I’ve consciously tried to eliminate minding what others’ think or perceive about me, it’s relatively minuscule. I realized I accomplished a goal I set out for, and it made me happy.

But as a filmmaker and student of human behavior, I started thinking about why some others choose to label me. Is it because I agree and/or disagree with some things a collective does or doesn’t? Is it to make themselves feel better, in particular about disliking or liking me? And if I were to say something such as, I believe man should be kind to thy neighbor, does that automatically make me a Christian dogmatic soul? It may seem ridiculous to think so, but my experience has shown me that some others like to label people and will do just this. Well… not one to defend myself other than by doing my best to be honest about who I am, I figure if one wants to know me, they should watch the way I act and treat others and myself. That’s really all there is to it. Don’t true individuals belong to a party of one? I suppose if others feel the need to “label” me, so be it. That’s their problem, not mine.

I was talking to my father, a very smart man, about how I’ve noticed some people who don’t like my beliefs or agree with them choose to get personal and go into “attack” mode, so I asked him why he thought this was. And his response to me was, “Because their own position is weak.” I believe this brings up an important point. He asked the question that if one wants to truly discuss an issue or feels different about an issue with the one they are discussing it with, what would be the need to attack and get personal if they believed their own point was strong? Wouldn’t they be confident enough to let their beliefs do the arguing and want to learn why the other person thought differently? But when one’s position is weak, getting personal or attacking makes sense. If this is the case, however, a choice is needed to be made. Personally, I choose to stop the discussion when one has disrespect by choosing to use expletives, attack or get personal because that is no longer an intelligent discussion. Yes, you may be called many things for doing this, but really, it only strengthens your stance. And though this seems to anger some even more… as my father noted, it’s interesting what it says about them.

Time is valuable.

It’s comical that some others speak of tolerance and yet are intolerant if you disagree with them. It’s mind-boggling that some others try to label you into a nicely organized category rather than just look at the very person you are, what you do and how you deal with them and yourself. It’s unfortunate that a defensive mode is often the choice, leading what could be an honest discussion into becoming a crude emotional pontificating mess. It’s difficult to stand up for what you believe when others try to knock you down, but it’s this difficulty that makes your beliefs stronger.

If you ever find yourself wanting to place a label on someone, as the beautiful film, American Beauty, noted, “Look closer” – things may not be as you thought they were from a distance…