Some people imagine their life as a novel. Me? I’ve always seen my life as a quirky indie film with a killer soundtrack, awkwardly endearing protagonists, and a few questionable outfit choices (looking at you, high school debate club blazer). If my life were a movie, I like to think it would blend small-town charm and big-city dreams, the way Boise itself mixes hiking trails with tech startups and food truck festivals. And naturally, every character—family, friends, exes, that random barista who once gave me the side-eye—would be perfectly cast. Grab your popcorn, because this is the lineup I’ve dreamed up.

The Protagonist: It’s Me, But Make It Slightly Better

Let’s start with who plays me. I’d love to say Greta Gerwig or Florence Pugh could step into my shoes—someone who could make even my messiest moments seem poetic. But deep down, I know the true star of this film-in-my-head has to be Ellie Kemper. Charming and self-deprecating with the ability to walk the fine line between adorable awkwardness and heartfelt sincerity? Ellie’s got it covered. I can see her now, fumbling her way through a montage of early deadlines at the Idaho Statesman and existential crises during Chicago winters. She’d bring all the warmth of Boise with just the right amount of Idaho grit. And frankly, if anyone can make the phrase “Is this too many flannel shirts for one wardrobe?” funny, it’s her.

The Love Interest(s): The Good, the Bad, and the Potato Enthusiasts

What’s a movie—especially a rom-com—without a love interest timeline that careens from swoony to cringeworthy? My early 20s "adventure" phase would call for some light Joshua Jackson energy—circa his “Pacey Witter” years. Think flannel over a soft heart and an unassuming charm that somehow wins you over while sharing bad coffee at the only open café after midnight.

Of course, the inevitable breakup sequences demand their own star power (and drama). I’m casting Adam Driver as The One Who Broke Me. He’s got that uniquely brooding energy, mixing vulnerability with just enough intensity to make you wonder if you can fix him. (Spoiler: You cannot.) Picture him in a dimly lit bar in downtown Boise, saying something like, “I think we’ve just…grown apart” as a sad Bon Iver track plays in the background.

But hold on—don’t leave the theater yet. Because like every great movie, there’s also hope. Enter future love (this casting is TBD, since real life hasn’t revealed them yet). My gut tells me they’ll have strong Domhnall Gleeson energy—quiet and kind, with enough dry humor to win me over while canoeing on the Boise River. I’m holding out for the kind of chemistry that turns “awkward first date” into “accidentally laughing until the waiter thinks we’re drunk.” Until then, I’ll be workshopping their character arc during solo trail runs.

The Supporting Cast: Heroes, Villains, and Comic Relief

No indie movie is complete without the friends who steal every scene but somehow keep the protagonist grounded. My best friend—let’s call her Maggie—would be played by a sharp, hilarious powerhouse like Aubrey Plaza. Equal parts sarcasm and “I’ll help you move three times in a single year without complaining” loyalty, Maggie’s the person who talks me down when I panic-text after bad dates and always remembers obscure 90s song lyrics for impromptu karaoke nights.

Casting my parents feels trickier because they’re so uniquely them: a quirky mix of practicality and the rugged, creative Idaho spirit. But I think Nick Offerman as my dad (complete with a plaid shirt and fervent opinions about brewing techniques) and Frances McDormand as my mom (wise, unflappable, and occasionally weird) would nail the dynamic. Picture them bickering over IPA recipes before turning around to give astoundingly wise relationship advice. “You don’t need someone to complete you,” my mom (McDormand) would say. “You need someone to appreciate your potato-sack-race high school victory.” Sage wisdom.

And then…there’s the Villain. No movie—or life, really—is without one. But mine isn’t some shadowy figure or deranged stalker. It’s the looming specter of my own self-doubt. Who better to embody that voice in my head that says, “You’ll never meet anyone who loves obscure music trivia as much as you do,” than my personal pick for Inner Critic: Tilda Swinton in a sharp suit? Swinton’s relentless, cerebral energy would pair nicely with my tendency to overanalyze everything. Fortunately, this movie would end with Ellie Kemper (aka me) finally standing up to her during a particularly dramatic mountaintop sunrise.

The Setting: Boise Shines Like the Star It Is

Setting plays as much a role in films as the actors themselves, and my indie flick wouldn’t be complete without Boise’s unique charm front and center. The lush foothills, lively breweries, and the Boise River would provide all the cozy, small-town-married-to-big-dreams vibes needed for my story. Certain key locales demand their own scenes:

  • Downtown Boise’s farmer’s market: Where young me, dutifully sampling every jam stand, would dream big author dreams. (Sunlight beams perfectly through the stalls as a soft acoustic guitar swells in the background.)
  • The North End: Picture Ellie Kemper pedaling her bike through tree-lined streets, likely tipping over while trying to balance a bundle of flowers and a bag of craft beer from my parents’ brewery.
  • Chicago’s bleak-yet-inspiring winters: Moody shots of me trudging through the snow to writing workshops while “Dog Days Are Over” swells on the soundtrack. Very Greta Gerwig-meets-Richard Linklater.

Oh, and lest we forget, the obligatory mountain getaway sequences—one part escapism, one part personal reflection (snowshoeing included). We are filming in Idaho, after all.

The Soundtrack: Because It’s Boise, Of Course It Has Hayloft by Mother Mother

A good movie isn’t just about casting or dialogue—it needs a killer soundtrack. My life’s movie bangs out the gates with a mix of indie rock legends and Boise staples. Think Fleet Foxes for introspective “figuring stuff out” moments, The Shins to accompany soft crushes forming over craft beer flights, and a triumphant burst of Sylvan Esso for moments when everything finally clicks.

There’s also room for some local gems to sneak in. An outdoor concert at Boise’s Treefort Music Fest would make for a key meet-cute scene—preferably as the sun sets and someone spills craft cider at my feet.

Life’s Big Takeaway: Roll Credits with Love

If my life being a movie taught me one thing, it’d be this: You’re both the creator and the critic of your own story. That’s the beauty of seeing life through this cinematic lens—you get to laugh at the embarrassing scenes, revel in the warm, fuzzy moments, and rest assured that even the sad parts have their place in making the whole picture meaningful.

No one’s life fits into a perfect three-act structure. But if we cast the right people, embrace the quirky plot twists, and own the occasional feels-like-a-flop moments, we’ll end up with something worth watching. My advice? Go all in on those starring role vibes and make sure your soundtrack rocks.

(And make time for your credits. You’ve earned them.)