This website is still undergoing its epic makeover; regardless, I’m testing out Fan Fridays here versus on my Facebook page. By the way, if you haven’t already done so, why not become a Facebook fan?

Above is a pic of my friend TJ and me cozying (?) up to Darth Vader at E3. Yes, Darth made an appearance.

And now, the contest deets: enter your caption for my photo in the Comments section to win an Earth-friendly F.E.A.R. 3 water bottle. It’s the water bottle Alma would use: diabolical yet oddly charming. Entries need to be submitted by 11:59 PM PDT, Sunday, June 27. Happy captioning!

Keanu, why so sad?

It’s summer movie season which means lots of time spent eating popcorn (hold the butter) in air conditioned auditoriums, seated next to complete strangers.

The uproar over Paramount’s decision to cast a predominantly Caucasian starring lineup in the live action version of The Last Airbender has not only got minority (namely Asian-American) actors in a tizzy, it also speaks to a larger, more unsettling reality: that there is still an underlying racial perception paradigm within Hollywood that has yet to shift.

Here’s what I mean. The Last Airbender story is heavily derived from Asian and Inuit culture. You can’t get much more obvious than the distinctly Chinese characters on the show’s logo. The characters are of ambiguous ethnic descent but are still – shall we say – colorful. This formula has, obviously, worked for Airbender and there wouldn’t be a live adaption of it into a trilogy if it weren’t.

When something hits the big screen, departures from the original story are to be expected – it’s almost a guarantee. But to change the likeness of the main characters in such a dramatic fashion not only goes against something that’s germane to the story and setting, it’s also sending a terrible message to younger audiences who’ve taken a liking to Aang and company because they see parts of themselves in these characters. It’s pretty much saying, “You’re cool animated on the small screen, but people who look like you aren’t ready for the big leagues yet.”

Growing up, I would’ve loved to have an Airbender to watch – the visibility of characters I could relate to, even if they only existed in some imaginary 2D world would’ve been a nice addition to my Jem-marathons. Hollywood casting decisions are generally made based on marketability – attracting the widest audience possible. Like in most industries, it’s not exactly a meritocracy and, to some extent, nor should it be: an actor’s likeness is an undeniable part of a role he’s playing. So when a cast looks so deliberately and fundamentally different from what they’re supposed to look like and represent, it’s not just an insult to those who’ve cultivated the story and the fans who’ve made it into a success in the first place, but it also insults its an entire movie-going audience by assuming they’re not ready to see certain actors take on certain roles.

So as we suspend our collective disbelief (as Jackson Rathbone – “Sokka” – suggests we do) this summer, it might be a little harder to suspend the disappointment over a missed opportunity to do a much-loved series and its fans justice.

… about me so you can start my Wikipedia entry. Whee!

1. I have a huge extended family in Malaysia.

2. I have a degree in Political Economy of Industrial Societies from U.C. Berkeley. GO BEARS!

3. I loved Berkeley. Still do.

4. In high school, I was on an episode of “Hollywood Squares: Teen Week.” I lost. When it aired months after taping, my English teacher told me it was like rooting for the Titanic. Also, I don’t think Tom Bergeron ages.

5. I almost took the Foreign Service exam, the test you’re required to pass to work for the U.S. Department of State as a Foreign Service Officer.

6. There are few things more satisfying for me than finishing a crossword puzzle. A hard one.

7. The first gig I ever landed was as a VJ on a music channel called Myx. I’d answered an open call on Craigslist.

8. In college, I worked as a writing tutor and interned at the World Affairs Council, CNN and VH1.

9. During my internship at CNN, I helped cover the execution of Stanley “Tookie” Williams… by holding a boom mic for Anderson Cooper’s show.

10. At VH1, I once had to bring Usher his lunch.

11. I’m not a big fan of mushrooms in most forms. Shiitake are my least favorite.

12. Or tomatoes on burgers/sandwiches.

13. Air Guitar competitions make life worth living.

14. I’ve worked as a freelance show producer at E! News on the E! Entertainment channel, producing packages on everything from Keeping up with the Kardashians to plastic surgery. It was pretty thrilling to hear Ryan Seacrest read the stuff I wrote.

15. To get familiar with reading from a teleprompter, I used to read Sanjay Gupta’s old copy that was left on the screen. Never did I think at an internship I’d learn so much about fiber.

16. My birthday is January 25.

17. My hometown is a place called Thousand Oaks, CA – a true California girl.

18. Surfing is one of my passions. I’m not a pro by any stretch of the imagination but water’s become my second home. My near-perfect day would be filled with good surf followed by Mexican food right after.

19. Pretentious factor aside, one of my favorite magazines is The Economist.

20. Despite a lack of first person shooter instincts, my favorite video games are FPSes.

21. My first words were in Mandarin.

22. I’ve endured wearing braces. And glasses. Simultaneously. Then came the glow-in-the-dark retainers…

23. Hawaii is one of my favorite places to visit. Ever.

24. Before voiceover auditions, I warm up to Lady Gaga’s “Speechless.” In my car. Very enthusiastically.

25. One of my favorite movies of all time is The Usual Suspects. The ending, that reveal… I was floored the first time I saw it.

I saw it. I slept on it. I wasn’t into it.

Like some 13 million others (ha!), I tuned in with great anticipation to the Lost finale knowing full well that I probably wouldn’t get the answers to all of my questions but still clinging onto the hope that the writers would tie up the story in a satisfying way. I could have been happy with “good enough.” Instead, what we got was a treacly “embrace the white light” non-resolution that solved some questions but neglected a major one: what, exactly, was the Island? I think we got slightly St. Elsewhere’d and I wonder if I’d be more satisfied if it turned out to all be the figment of an autistic child’s imagination. At least that would provide me with something concrete to be frustrated at.

For those who were perfectly content with seeing Jack’s eye close and have that be that have argued that it’s an issue of what you were watching for: the characters or the plot/story. If you were watching for the former, the series ended in the spirit of of its conception, with the characters reuniting, joining together once again, off the Island and moving onto the great after-death unknown. So, I must’ve been watching for the plot.

But here’s the problem: whether any Lostie realizes it or not, you were watching it for the plot, too. If you weren’t, the series wouldn’t have had such longevity, kept us riveted throughout and made us care about the vehicles (the characters) moving that story along. They’d just be people with sad, lonely lives crashing on a really pretty Island, shooting things and exploring stuff.

The characters, through their back stories, their actions and their evolutions drove the story as it unfolded on this mysterious Island which, over six seasons, became a character itself. It had its own history (DHARMA, the hatch, the numbers and – we found out – a temple with some old Asian dude who spoke an ancient form of Japanese and his Beatle-lookalike sidekick), its own quirks (to say the least) and, in some instances, seemed like a living entity on which the Oceanic passengers were merely players. The entire – to use a hackneyed term – mythology of the series surrounded this enigmatic locale that was only reachable by plane crash or a really well-commandeered submarine. Oh, and it could skip around in time if you rotated a big frozen donkey wheel.

Others have argued that the whole show, like the ending, has all been about interpretation in the spirit that all art is – just ask anybody who’s had to BS his way through an art history paper. But if you’re a Lostie subscribing to that objectivist-esque school of thought, you’re also ignoring that the writers wrote rules about the Island and the characters and that it was a reality in the Lost universe. The specifics and details about said universe was undermined by the vagueness of that last episode.

For example, the Island could only be reached under specific circumstances and there was a certain magnetism – literally – that made it special. Desmond could skip around in time between the Island and the rest of the world (and so did the ill-fated Makowski and possibly Regina – remember them?) before anybody else could and was immune to electromagnetic forces; Walt was “special” but he was, we can only assume or – ahem – interpret that he was living some now-normal existence somewhere off the Island; the MIB couldn’t kill Jacob without a loophole, and speaking of whom, Jacob himself set up a “rule” illustrating the Island as a sort of “plug” to the all the evil humanity could ever know. There were rules that required a logic that wasn’t explained. Maybe knowing what I know now, there’s enough circumstantial evidence throughout the seasons that can help piece it together (DVD box set marathon time!) but even then, there will still be unanswered questions.

Which is fine. Such is the way of the TV writing and we, as audience members, aren’t entitled to an answer to every question. Never did I think that we’d get them either: the pacing of the last season was evidence right there. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse (and J.J. Abrams) are tremendously talented and have made an overall amazing show that has touched the emotional pulse of so many TV fans and fans of, yes, a good story. A good yarn. The finale was everything that constitutes entertainment for me: action-packed, witty, and moving… there was even a Jack-jumping-in-the-air/flying fist shot! Maybe the ending was off-putting for me because it undermined the sci-fi elements in favor of a spiritual-heavy resolution that wasn’t gritty or groundbreaking or unique to the Lost canon. Or maybe I just get awkward when I see people hugging in slo-mo on-screen.

Everybody loves Hugo loves chicken. via TVFanatic.

Warning: Don’t Read if You Haven’t Watched Season 6 of “Lost” Yet!

I’m a huge Lost fan. During an episode, I shut off all potential gadget interruptions, which is akin to not letting me breathe air. Speaking of which, I also don’t mouth breathe – what if Sawyer says, “son of a b*tch” again and I miss it? I’m on Lostpedia the second that end title thuds on-screen. And I’m not one to get too fazed at celebs, but I can distinctly recall having a serious fangirl moment when I interviewed Michael Emerson last year.

As a dedicated Lostie, then, I’ve found myself wondering what is UP [insert optional boldface] with this season!?

We’re in the home stretch of finding out what the Island is all about – the numbers, the passengers of Ocean 815, their purpose, Dharma, Jacob, (F)Locke/the Man in Black/Smokey, and the various timelines poor Desmond keeps getting beamed back and forth (er, “side to side”) from. All the intrigue will meet its end in but a few episodes. Yet, I wonder if we’re only going to be only left with more questions.

It’s not that I don’t trust the writers and producers. They’re no longer flying without a proverbial pilot like at the beginning of the series (to which they’ve even copped to). If we fans didn’t trust them, we wouldn’t still be watching and the writers have, thankfully, demonstrated reciprocity with our dedication via their storytelling. I’d like to think my earnest generating of “bad vibes” towards the TV box whenever Nikki or Paulo were on-screen contributed to their offing in Season 3.

If you’re a Lost fan, though, you’ve always been a touch resentful towards the script overlords if only because every episode’s ending leaves with you Klonopin-grabbing anxiety. “What… it’s over? That’s it? What the…” It’s a weekly mental ritual every Lostie goes through by herself before sifting through every thread on DarkUFO.

At such a late point in the game, though, it seems like there are far too many yarns that need some tying up but not ample time to do so. The Island’s got some ‘splainin’ to do. What happened to Walt? Who is Jacob, really? How can he manipulate people into a place that distorts space and time? Is it all a question of faith versus skepticism? Personal volition versus pre-destiny? Or just plain good versus evil? Why is Miles so cool?

I’m not totally tepid about this season. We finally got our long-awaited ballad of Richard Alpert, although his phenomenal lash length/perpetual guyliner will just have to be one of those Island mysteries that never get an answer. Ilana exploded (finally). Hurley got to first base with Libby, and Charlie made an appearance, albeit as strung out as ever.

In past seasons every character name, development, mini-development and piece of dialogue was a morsel to be savored and over-analyzed so that it could, somehow, fit into the mythology of the Island – a mythology that us Losties still don’t fully understand. And now that the Wizard will finally be stepping out from behind the curtain in a few weeks, I wonder if my fangirl-induced anxiety over the series ending is making me resent this season more than before.

So maybe the dissatisfaction, ultimately, has to do with its ending. I started the season thinking, in vain, that all of our questions would be answered with more immediacy. You’d think after five seasons, I would know better.

Join my Facebook page and potentially win a sweet Resident Evil 4: Afterlife tee – courtesy of me – if you come up with a clever caption to the pic posted on my Wall. Happy caption-ing!

I’m in the middle – well, more like beginning – stages of re-vamping this website and have started to think about branding a lot lately. I’ve been researching all different types of websites, fonts, templates because, ultimately, my little carved-out nook here on the interwebs – the look, its content, what I choose to share or not share – is a part of my “brand.” In discussions with my web designer, a number of “me”-brand related questions have come up that go way beyond just what fonts I should use. Do I need a logo? What kind of color scheme? A jingle that gets stuck in your head like that mini-sirloin burgers song from Jack in the Box that left a ringing in my ear for a week? Or maybe I should pull a “Head-On” at the beginning of my videos?

In personal branding, though, it seems that the most pressing question of all a simple but a heavy one: who am I? This question, inside or outside of a branding context, is bound to spawn many an existential crisis. Multiple, if you’re an over-achiever.

Branding is about simplicity and package-ability. Potential employers scan resumes to piece together a job candidate’s brand based on factors like a college degree, major, work history, outside interests. In the world I work in, the branding process is a little more colorful: “the Geeky Girl with the Surfboard,” “the Gamer Chick,” “the Quirky Hostess with the Mostest” – by the way, none of which I am laying any certain claim to. Okay, maybe that last one. To some extent, branding is akin to playing a game of Mad Libs but instead of the whole English language at your disposal, you have but a few adjectives, nouns and adverbs to choose from and plug in accordingly and render a neat, seamless version of who you are and what you can provide. That way, you become an easily recognizable, easily-associated figure – although I’m pretty sure the branding geniuses behind doughnuts didn’t mean for me to associate a traditional glazed with self-loathing. Mmm. Glazed.

This is, unfortunately, a little counter-intuitive when you’re not dealing with a commodity but a person. Not to get too Chicken Soup for the Sensitive CEO’s Soul here, but one of my favorite quotes is from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself: “Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.”

This doesn’t quite fit into the branding philosophy. Got multitudes? Too bad! Your personal brand doesn’t really care, nor should it – it all goes back to simplicity, package-ability. Sellability. But does all this “me 2.0″-ing (and yes, there’s a book out there about it – Me 2.0) ultimately sell ourselves short?