Well, I had a trying day.
I have to return the clippers that I bought because they only came with two guards- apparently whoever made the decision about the whole package thought it a good idea to include a shitty pair of shears and a ton of clipper oil but only enough guard combs to do a high-and-tight, a military cut. HOW did I not see that beforehand, on the box? So I'm taking the stupid things back on Monday, since I have to work tomorrow and the next day, and I won't be getting off work until the place is closed.
On top of that, I did NOTHING. All. Day. Long. No walk-ins on a Thursday is INSANE.
Anyway...
Yesterday, I went to see Black Swan and I have two words:
HOLY. SHIT.
That was the most intense, frightening movie I've ever seen. It was incredible and if SOMEONE involved doesn't walk home with an Oscar I'll be very surprised. Natalie Portman... I've always known she was talented but she really blew my mind. And Mila Kunis left That 70's Show in the dust years ago, but this just cements her place in Hollywood. I think we can expect great things from her. Even Winona Ryder was decent.
The opening scene is EXTREMELY important. It's a dream sequence, like much of the movie is, where Nina (Natalie Portman) is dancing the part of the White Swan and transforming into the Black Swan. This part, I will admit, choked me up for some reason. It was visually beautiful and that on top of the music just wound me up somehow. But there are clues where you can pick up on things that happen later (no spoilers, sorry, you'll have to watch!) and I felt physically ill through most of the film, for a number of reasons. It's very rare that my concentration is held through an entire movie, but I didn't drift AT ALL. I couldn't, for the same reason you can't look away from a train wreck. And upon leaving the theatre, I felt haunted and really shaken in a way I hadn't been in a long time. Please, put aside all the hype, and go see this amazing movie. It's truly an experience.
But I'd like to take this opportunity to address something about the movie-going experience (lame term, I know) that has bothered me for ages, and a lot, because I see movies all the time, as my reader(s) may or may not know. I haven't felt so frustrated by my fellow audience members since I saw Across the Universe and heard people laughing during that depressing "Let it Be" sequence where the kid dies. Yesterday, I had an older couple sitting behind me, which, first off, Black Swan isn't a movie that's aimed at an older crowd. I know for a fact that they paid less than me (they were ahead of me in line and got the senior discount) so why they felt it was alright to talk the whole time, when the rest of us had paid more and were trying to pay attention, I have no idea. I haven't had to ask anyone to be quiet in a VERY long time. The man was hacking up half of one of his lungs, SOMEBODY was crossing and uncrossing their legs and kicking the entire row of seats... Ugh.
And no, I couldn't move. In the smaller theatres, which are still large, there's more of an incline and I only have a three-row window where I'll still be able to see because if I'm too close, I have to crane my neck and I get a massive headache, and if I'm too far up, it's like watching a TV screen. Not to mention my farsightedness that makes things... complicated, especially in 3-D movies (but that's another post).
So anyway, pretty much everyone else was acting like a douche canoe and talking and laughing at the end, which... I mean, even if you thought it was ridiculous, there was nothing funny. Nothing. It wasn't like The Last of the Mohicans (*puke*) where that girl jumps off a cliff for no reason.
I don't know, maybe I was just all hormonal and ultra-sensitive, but I was pissed. It's like interrupting someone while they're meditating- I'm trying to see, hear, smell, taste, and feel everything that I can, and I like to immerse myself fully into whatever I'm watching. When that gets disrupted, repeatedly... I'm not a happy camper.
Well, that's all I have to say for now. Later.
Showing posts with label cool movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cool movies. Show all posts
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Monday, December 13, 2010
Hey! I made a post, finally!
I've actually had stuff going on, I just haven't really found words for it yet.
I got to work on Saturday (only three and a half hours but it's better than no hours, and I've got nine this week, hopefully) and I had an interview a few hours before that. On Friday I have a practical interview at Belissimo Salon, and I think that'll go okay. Maybe I'll have more money coming in by the new year.
I got my last package from Aromaleigh on Saturday, as well. It was bittersweet because I was excited about the new eyeshadows, but I can't get any more either. I have about $60 left on my prepaid card that my first paycheck went to (I'm not sure where my next will go, since I didn't get a paycheck cos I haven't worked since Black Friday) and around $30 in my bank account (Jesus, does that EVER change!?) so I'll make it another couple of weeks. It's just frustrating because I definitely wouldn't have ordered a pair of glass gauge plugs and a clear retainer if I'd known my hours for that week (my five measly hours!) would be cut. Hopefully I get to keep my hours this weekend and pick up some more during the holidays. It'll give me an excuse to not travel.
Today (well, yesterday, now) was the beginning of a ten-year-old family tradition my mom started years ago, the Twelve Days of Christmas. We each (my brother and I, that is) get a small present every day until Christmas Day when we get the big stuff. It's usually a used book or movie, or an exotic candy bar, or in my case, art supplies. It's a lot of fun. Today, I got Hush by Asobi Seksu- occasionally we'll get a CD or DVD in there. Today was one of those days.
Tomorrow I think I'll get my car's oil changed, go check my schedule and make sure I know what days and times I'm supposed to be at work, and see the new Narnia movie. I need something to kill a couple of hours so my mom won't bother me for not leaving the house.
I also need to make a concerted effort to find that Netflix sleeve so I can mail Mouth to Mouth back and get my next DVD. I have no idea where the damn thing went.
By the way, the last movie I got, Second Skin, was one of the most frustrating films I've ever seen. The main character had to be the least appealing human ever to be onscreen in a supposedly romantic movie. You're supposed to sympathize with a man who cheats on his wife with another man, yet you just feel bad for his wife and his lover on the side because they both love him so much and he's so wrapped up in his own "Oh poor me" routine that he ends up hurting them both. I actually was a bit relieved when he died in a motorcycle crash, that's how much I wanted to not watch him anymore. Why did I continue, you ask? Because I love Javier Bardem, and I also really like wotserface (she played Ofelia's mother in Pan's Labyrinth). I wanted to see how things panned out for them. Javier's character, Diego, the lover, was so sweet and he even risked his career for Roberto, even after the guy lied to him constantly and treated him like shit. Roberto acted like a spoiled, insolent child most of the time. A spoiled-insolent child with a raging boner- be warned if you decide to watch this, there is almost nothing that can prepare you for the unexpected, out-of-left-field man-lovin' in the FIRST TEN MINUTES. And he treated his wife even worse- apparently he didn't care about how an affair might affect his marriage, or his young son, for that matter.
Ugh. Sorry, I hate movies that are like that, where you just hate whoever you're watching and pray for them to die.
Anyway... I might have more to say tomorrow, but I've gotta go to bed. Later.
I got to work on Saturday (only three and a half hours but it's better than no hours, and I've got nine this week, hopefully) and I had an interview a few hours before that. On Friday I have a practical interview at Belissimo Salon, and I think that'll go okay. Maybe I'll have more money coming in by the new year.
I got my last package from Aromaleigh on Saturday, as well. It was bittersweet because I was excited about the new eyeshadows, but I can't get any more either. I have about $60 left on my prepaid card that my first paycheck went to (I'm not sure where my next will go, since I didn't get a paycheck cos I haven't worked since Black Friday) and around $30 in my bank account (Jesus, does that EVER change!?) so I'll make it another couple of weeks. It's just frustrating because I definitely wouldn't have ordered a pair of glass gauge plugs and a clear retainer if I'd known my hours for that week (my five measly hours!) would be cut. Hopefully I get to keep my hours this weekend and pick up some more during the holidays. It'll give me an excuse to not travel.
Today (well, yesterday, now) was the beginning of a ten-year-old family tradition my mom started years ago, the Twelve Days of Christmas. We each (my brother and I, that is) get a small present every day until Christmas Day when we get the big stuff. It's usually a used book or movie, or an exotic candy bar, or in my case, art supplies. It's a lot of fun. Today, I got Hush by Asobi Seksu- occasionally we'll get a CD or DVD in there. Today was one of those days.
Tomorrow I think I'll get my car's oil changed, go check my schedule and make sure I know what days and times I'm supposed to be at work, and see the new Narnia movie. I need something to kill a couple of hours so my mom won't bother me for not leaving the house.
I also need to make a concerted effort to find that Netflix sleeve so I can mail Mouth to Mouth back and get my next DVD. I have no idea where the damn thing went.
By the way, the last movie I got, Second Skin, was one of the most frustrating films I've ever seen. The main character had to be the least appealing human ever to be onscreen in a supposedly romantic movie. You're supposed to sympathize with a man who cheats on his wife with another man, yet you just feel bad for his wife and his lover on the side because they both love him so much and he's so wrapped up in his own "Oh poor me" routine that he ends up hurting them both. I actually was a bit relieved when he died in a motorcycle crash, that's how much I wanted to not watch him anymore. Why did I continue, you ask? Because I love Javier Bardem, and I also really like wotserface (she played Ofelia's mother in Pan's Labyrinth). I wanted to see how things panned out for them. Javier's character, Diego, the lover, was so sweet and he even risked his career for Roberto, even after the guy lied to him constantly and treated him like shit. Roberto acted like a spoiled, insolent child most of the time. A spoiled-insolent child with a raging boner- be warned if you decide to watch this, there is almost nothing that can prepare you for the unexpected, out-of-left-field man-lovin' in the FIRST TEN MINUTES. And he treated his wife even worse- apparently he didn't care about how an affair might affect his marriage, or his young son, for that matter.
Ugh. Sorry, I hate movies that are like that, where you just hate whoever you're watching and pray for them to die.
Anyway... I might have more to say tomorrow, but I've gotta go to bed. Later.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
You know what made my day today?
I commented on a YouTube vlog and the guy thought it was funny!
This video popped up in my subscription box, so I watched. The comments fill up pretty quick, so if you don't feel like surfing through all that, I wrote:
"She was calm because if she'd shown any emotion the staples holding her face like that might've popped. Duh.
I was also excited that they used "Oh Children" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in one of the scenes. I didn't really discover that song until recently but it's a favorite now. Especially the live version. So now younger people get to experience the greatness that is Nick Cave! Yay!
My first paycheck goes in my account tomorrow, so that's good. I can get my brother and my dad presents for Christmas, and make one last order from Aromaleigh ($35, that's what I've worked out), and still have some left (that wasn't there today) thanks to the money my Aunt Glenda sent as a Christmas present. I already know what I'm getting- a $30 gift card for my brother and a copy of Whiskey for the Holy Ghost by Mark Lanegan for my dad.
All in all it'll be less than my paycheck (which is $84, I got to check online!) and it'll be nice to have more than $10 in the bank, worrying about when I can get more in there. Plus, I get paid every other week. It won't be much but I'm talking to salons again so hopefully in the next month or so I'll have more money coming in and therefore a LOT less pressure.
It was a pretty good day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to watch Huevos de Oro (Golden Balls!) one more time before putting it back in the mail tomorrow. The character is such an asshole and his dress sense is a lot like what happens when late-80's Miami throws up on someone, but any movie where I get to see a mostly-naked Javier Bardem is fine by me! Seriously, half that movie is pretty much soft-core porn. There are not one but two three-way scenes. One (the first) is pretty tasteful and, you know, what you'd expect from a three-way, and the last one is fucking HILARIOUS. All I can say is, I knew Benicio Del Toro (yeah, he was in it, too- my lucky day!) was a freak! Between the slapping and the choking and the way he was ATTACKING that girl, not to mention his screaming ("GOOOO-ZAAAAA!!!" Which apparently translates to "Enjoy it", which... WTF?).
Well... I'd better get to bed soon. End stream-of-consciousness ramblings! Later!
This video popped up in my subscription box, so I watched. The comments fill up pretty quick, so if you don't feel like surfing through all that, I wrote:
"She was calm because if she'd shown any emotion the staples holding her face like that might've popped. Duh.
I was also excited that they used "Oh Children" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in one of the scenes. I didn't really discover that song until recently but it's a favorite now. Especially the live version. So now younger people get to experience the greatness that is Nick Cave! Yay!
My first paycheck goes in my account tomorrow, so that's good. I can get my brother and my dad presents for Christmas, and make one last order from Aromaleigh ($35, that's what I've worked out), and still have some left (that wasn't there today) thanks to the money my Aunt Glenda sent as a Christmas present. I already know what I'm getting- a $30 gift card for my brother and a copy of Whiskey for the Holy Ghost by Mark Lanegan for my dad.
All in all it'll be less than my paycheck (which is $84, I got to check online!) and it'll be nice to have more than $10 in the bank, worrying about when I can get more in there. Plus, I get paid every other week. It won't be much but I'm talking to salons again so hopefully in the next month or so I'll have more money coming in and therefore a LOT less pressure.
It was a pretty good day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to watch Huevos de Oro (Golden Balls!) one more time before putting it back in the mail tomorrow. The character is such an asshole and his dress sense is a lot like what happens when late-80's Miami throws up on someone, but any movie where I get to see a mostly-naked Javier Bardem is fine by me! Seriously, half that movie is pretty much soft-core porn. There are not one but two three-way scenes. One (the first) is pretty tasteful and, you know, what you'd expect from a three-way, and the last one is fucking HILARIOUS. All I can say is, I knew Benicio Del Toro (yeah, he was in it, too- my lucky day!) was a freak! Between the slapping and the choking and the way he was ATTACKING that girl, not to mention his screaming ("GOOOO-ZAAAAA!!!" Which apparently translates to "Enjoy it", which... WTF?).
Well... I'd better get to bed soon. End stream-of-consciousness ramblings! Later!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Insomnia? Or the end result of over-sleeping?
I can't sleep. Not sure why. Well, that's untrue. I woke up at 9 AM and then proceeded to fall asleep and wake up again several times until 1 PM. I didn't even eat anything until almost 2:30 this afternoon because I always seem to wake up nauseous.
I'm also on a bit of a high because I got to see Florence and the Machine on Saturday Night Live. I know it's not exactly cool to like that show, but A) I don't care about being cool and B) I've been watching for years and I love it. Also, Florence was ON tonight. She was so beautiful, with her shiny red curls and her red lips and her black dresses (that beaded one she wore for the "Dog Days Are Over" performance was gorgeous but SO SHORT- at least she has the legs for it!) and I was so happy that she got to show everyone how amazing she is. Seriously, if I hear one more Goddamn person my age talk about how Katy Motherfucking Perry is a great role model because she "speaks her mind" and she's "original" I'll scream. Flo not only writes amazing songs but she also is a natural performer, one of those people you can't take your eyes off, like their work or not. She was born to do what she does. And I'll watch her as long as she does it- she's only two years older than me so I think it'll be a while before it's all over.
Anyway, end fangirl rant...
I have another semi-unofficial shift tomorrow. I'm helping put up displays for Black Friday or something, and I don't have to be at Bath and Body Works until 6 PM. In workout clothes. So... I'll be dressed how I normally am around the house, but I'll be getting paid. And missing The Simpsons. But getting paid.
I watched another somewhat depressing movie on Netflix last night- The Sea Inside. If you don't mind subtitles I would recommend it. Basically it's about a man, Ramon Sampedro, who, after suffering a spinal injury as a young man, becomes a quadriplegic and is lobbying the Spanish government to allow assisted suicide so that he can die with a little dignity. The government (surprise, surprise) never relents and his friends, in secret, dose him with cyanide and grant him that one last wish of his. I'm not sure how I feel about the subject matter. My immediate response is, no, he should value his life, but upon further reflection, I realized that I would probably want the same thing. And he was trapped like that for nearly THIRTY YEARS. What kind of life is that? He chased away his fiancee so that she would have a chance to live unburdened by his condition, instead placing most of the weight on his brother and sister-in-law, and, later on, his nephew. But what I didn't understand was, Ramon accomplished so much despite his disability. Why didn't he see that? He invented a writing tablet that allowed him to write using his mouth (I'm not entirely sure how it worked, I only saw him writing). He wrote poetry that his sister-in-law saved in a box and was later published. And Julia, the lawyer working on his case pro bono, tried to understand him and his reasoning as well as she could while dealing with her own disability (she has two strokes over the course of the film, the last taking a good chunk of her memory). I sympathized with her the most.
There was one line in particular that got to me. Ramon's father, speaking to Julia; "There's only one thing worse than having your son die on you... him wanting to."
Overall I felt like it was a good story about a person's right to control what happens to their body, and what life is about, and all that. I just can't imagine why I keep finding all this depressing shit to watch. It always sounds good and then I get through it and, surprise, I cry buckets through half the movie. Maybe I'm just over-emotional right now and this is what I need. I've felt wildly out of control the last few months to the point where maybe I need therapy. But if I do start seeing a shrink, it won't be one of those woo-woo, touchy-feely weirdos like the last guy my mom took me to. I was angrier when I left than when I'd gone in. I talk about how I don't like it when people openly judge me, he makes me look around the room and says there's nobody here to judge me. DAMN! NO WAY! I had no idea there wasn't anyone else in this tiny room! I tend to feel emotions in extremes, I'm either really good or really bad. Then there's the days where I literally feel NOTHING. I have to make myself feel something. No, I'm not talking about self-harm or anything like that. I just have to read a book that really affects me or listen to music or something, but it's still a little weird to think, "Did I really have a feeling today? I can't remember." But then, sometimes I can't remember whether or not I put on deodorant five minutes after I would've put it on.
Aagghhh... I'd better get some sleep. Later, dudes.
I'm also on a bit of a high because I got to see Florence and the Machine on Saturday Night Live. I know it's not exactly cool to like that show, but A) I don't care about being cool and B) I've been watching for years and I love it. Also, Florence was ON tonight. She was so beautiful, with her shiny red curls and her red lips and her black dresses (that beaded one she wore for the "Dog Days Are Over" performance was gorgeous but SO SHORT- at least she has the legs for it!) and I was so happy that she got to show everyone how amazing she is. Seriously, if I hear one more Goddamn person my age talk about how Katy Motherfucking Perry is a great role model because she "speaks her mind" and she's "original" I'll scream. Flo not only writes amazing songs but she also is a natural performer, one of those people you can't take your eyes off, like their work or not. She was born to do what she does. And I'll watch her as long as she does it- she's only two years older than me so I think it'll be a while before it's all over.
Anyway, end fangirl rant...
I have another semi-unofficial shift tomorrow. I'm helping put up displays for Black Friday or something, and I don't have to be at Bath and Body Works until 6 PM. In workout clothes. So... I'll be dressed how I normally am around the house, but I'll be getting paid. And missing The Simpsons. But getting paid.
I watched another somewhat depressing movie on Netflix last night- The Sea Inside. If you don't mind subtitles I would recommend it. Basically it's about a man, Ramon Sampedro, who, after suffering a spinal injury as a young man, becomes a quadriplegic and is lobbying the Spanish government to allow assisted suicide so that he can die with a little dignity. The government (surprise, surprise) never relents and his friends, in secret, dose him with cyanide and grant him that one last wish of his. I'm not sure how I feel about the subject matter. My immediate response is, no, he should value his life, but upon further reflection, I realized that I would probably want the same thing. And he was trapped like that for nearly THIRTY YEARS. What kind of life is that? He chased away his fiancee so that she would have a chance to live unburdened by his condition, instead placing most of the weight on his brother and sister-in-law, and, later on, his nephew. But what I didn't understand was, Ramon accomplished so much despite his disability. Why didn't he see that? He invented a writing tablet that allowed him to write using his mouth (I'm not entirely sure how it worked, I only saw him writing). He wrote poetry that his sister-in-law saved in a box and was later published. And Julia, the lawyer working on his case pro bono, tried to understand him and his reasoning as well as she could while dealing with her own disability (she has two strokes over the course of the film, the last taking a good chunk of her memory). I sympathized with her the most.
There was one line in particular that got to me. Ramon's father, speaking to Julia; "There's only one thing worse than having your son die on you... him wanting to."
Overall I felt like it was a good story about a person's right to control what happens to their body, and what life is about, and all that. I just can't imagine why I keep finding all this depressing shit to watch. It always sounds good and then I get through it and, surprise, I cry buckets through half the movie. Maybe I'm just over-emotional right now and this is what I need. I've felt wildly out of control the last few months to the point where maybe I need therapy. But if I do start seeing a shrink, it won't be one of those woo-woo, touchy-feely weirdos like the last guy my mom took me to. I was angrier when I left than when I'd gone in. I talk about how I don't like it when people openly judge me, he makes me look around the room and says there's nobody here to judge me. DAMN! NO WAY! I had no idea there wasn't anyone else in this tiny room! I tend to feel emotions in extremes, I'm either really good or really bad. Then there's the days where I literally feel NOTHING. I have to make myself feel something. No, I'm not talking about self-harm or anything like that. I just have to read a book that really affects me or listen to music or something, but it's still a little weird to think, "Did I really have a feeling today? I can't remember." But then, sometimes I can't remember whether or not I put on deodorant five minutes after I would've put it on.
Aagghhh... I'd better get some sleep. Later, dudes.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Cool Stuff and Things!
I went to this annual Christmas shopping festival thing with my mom and her friend's daughter today and I got the COOLEST NECKLACE EVER!
Let me back up and set this up a little better. I found lots of cool stuff- there were vendors from all over the country. I found a makeup bag that I came really close to buying that had an old comic book-style woman drawn on it that said, "God, I'm just so BLOODY BLONDE sometimes!" As a natural blonde, I found it hilarious. My mom bought me some things for Christmas that I was expressly told to forget about, which I probably will- three really pretty bobby pins with dichroic glass on them, and a handmade rainbow-colored bag crocheted from silk. But I passed by a booth with some jewelry that I HAD to inspect closer.
The girl that made them asked me if I knew what steampunk was, and I was like, "Hell YES and I LOVE it!" Some of the pieces were made from watch fobs that still worked, and there was a necklace that had a brass pendant shaped like an alarm clock. Headbands with brass filigree and watch faces. Rings with tiny watch fobs on them. Earrings. But the one I really fell in love with was on a slinky, dark silver chain, a small globe with a functioning, jewel-movement watch inside it. If you wind the little sapphire-tipped winder on the bottom, it runs. You can hear it ticking. I HAD to have it. But I don't even currently have $49 to my name, and that's how much it cost, so that became an early Christmas present. I was that in love with it. But I also wanted to give the girl some business, just as a fellow jewelry maker who knows that there's little to no steampunk market in Panama City.
I'll have to post pictures later.
On an unrelated note, I watched Traffic start to finish for the first time last night. It was a good movie, but not my favorite thing I've ever seen. I mostly enjoyed seeing Benicio Del Toro in tight pants. He's decidedly bootylicious (I SO went there). And shirtless in a pool. Also, he eats at a stand in one scene, and he kind of eats like a little kid, which I found oddly adorable. Normally I hate watching and hearing people eat (it's one of those weird pet peeves you can't quite explain) but I was like, "... Aww." And that scene in the gay bar, where he picks up that drug dealer? Brilliant.
I'll probably watch it again tomorrow night. The mail won't go out until Monday anyway.
I haven't got anything else to talk about right now. Maybe on Monday I'll get good news from Bath and Body Works. It's not like I didn't show interest in that job, I only went back in seven times to ask about it.
Later, dudes.
Let me back up and set this up a little better. I found lots of cool stuff- there were vendors from all over the country. I found a makeup bag that I came really close to buying that had an old comic book-style woman drawn on it that said, "God, I'm just so BLOODY BLONDE sometimes!" As a natural blonde, I found it hilarious. My mom bought me some things for Christmas that I was expressly told to forget about, which I probably will- three really pretty bobby pins with dichroic glass on them, and a handmade rainbow-colored bag crocheted from silk. But I passed by a booth with some jewelry that I HAD to inspect closer.
The girl that made them asked me if I knew what steampunk was, and I was like, "Hell YES and I LOVE it!" Some of the pieces were made from watch fobs that still worked, and there was a necklace that had a brass pendant shaped like an alarm clock. Headbands with brass filigree and watch faces. Rings with tiny watch fobs on them. Earrings. But the one I really fell in love with was on a slinky, dark silver chain, a small globe with a functioning, jewel-movement watch inside it. If you wind the little sapphire-tipped winder on the bottom, it runs. You can hear it ticking. I HAD to have it. But I don't even currently have $49 to my name, and that's how much it cost, so that became an early Christmas present. I was that in love with it. But I also wanted to give the girl some business, just as a fellow jewelry maker who knows that there's little to no steampunk market in Panama City.
I'll have to post pictures later.
On an unrelated note, I watched Traffic start to finish for the first time last night. It was a good movie, but not my favorite thing I've ever seen. I mostly enjoyed seeing Benicio Del Toro in tight pants. He's decidedly bootylicious (I SO went there). And shirtless in a pool. Also, he eats at a stand in one scene, and he kind of eats like a little kid, which I found oddly adorable. Normally I hate watching and hearing people eat (it's one of those weird pet peeves you can't quite explain) but I was like, "... Aww." And that scene in the gay bar, where he picks up that drug dealer? Brilliant.
I'll probably watch it again tomorrow night. The mail won't go out until Monday anyway.
I haven't got anything else to talk about right now. Maybe on Monday I'll get good news from Bath and Body Works. It's not like I didn't show interest in that job, I only went back in seven times to ask about it.
Later, dudes.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Most Depressing Movie Ever
I got The Road from Netflix today, excited because I've wanted to see it forever- I love Viggo Mortensen, I knew the soundtrack would be amazing because Nick Cave and Warren Ellis did it, and John Hillcoat is a brilliant director and if you don't know that familiarize yourself with his work.
The story is about a father and son, trying to get to the east coast after the Apocalypse. They spend the entire movie covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime, and Viggo's teeth develop a lovely greenish-brown film. Charlize Theron is in very little of the movie- she leaves when Viggo refuses to kill her and their son and then commit suicide to avoid the surely-terrible future. The rest of her scenes are flashbacks.
There are roaming tribes of cannibals, bomb shelters, and near-misses with said cannibals. There is one particularly horrifying scene where the father and son (they don't have names) go into a house to find food and shelter and end up finding a cellar with a dozen or so half-naked malnourished people, some with missing limbs. There are bloody meathooks EVERYWHERE. They escape, but just barely, when the cellar people try to make a run for it and the cannibals have to make sure their food supply (ugh...) doesn't run off.
I found myself, though fascinated, wondering when the movie would end. It's just under two hours, but it felt like a lifetime watching all that suffering. Cormac McCarthy wrote some scary shit into that novel. And it's scary because it's entirely possible. We may see it in our lifetimes. I don't want to think about having to run away from people that want to fucking EAT ME, but the thought stays with me.
Don't get me wrong. The Road is a GREAT movie. But it's one of those films that you can only watch when you're in a depression and you need to have a good cry. Or when you're into something scary that isn't all about blood and guts the way horror movies are (which, by the way, I don't find scary, they're just gross). I'll never be able to watch that last scene without crying buckets- hearing that sweet boy say "Papa" over and over again when he realized his father was gone put me over the edge. I felt on the verge of tears through the whole thing but that did it for me.
I'm not one for the so-called "classic" novels, either, but I would read Cormac McCarthy before I EVER touched anything by Faulkner or one of the other supposedly great American writers. I can see how Nick Cave's first novel, And the Ass Saw the Angel, garnered comparisons. It was probably intentional, but still.
So... Anyway... Check it out. But be forewarned, it's a tough watch.
The story is about a father and son, trying to get to the east coast after the Apocalypse. They spend the entire movie covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime, and Viggo's teeth develop a lovely greenish-brown film. Charlize Theron is in very little of the movie- she leaves when Viggo refuses to kill her and their son and then commit suicide to avoid the surely-terrible future. The rest of her scenes are flashbacks.
There are roaming tribes of cannibals, bomb shelters, and near-misses with said cannibals. There is one particularly horrifying scene where the father and son (they don't have names) go into a house to find food and shelter and end up finding a cellar with a dozen or so half-naked malnourished people, some with missing limbs. There are bloody meathooks EVERYWHERE. They escape, but just barely, when the cellar people try to make a run for it and the cannibals have to make sure their food supply (ugh...) doesn't run off.
I found myself, though fascinated, wondering when the movie would end. It's just under two hours, but it felt like a lifetime watching all that suffering. Cormac McCarthy wrote some scary shit into that novel. And it's scary because it's entirely possible. We may see it in our lifetimes. I don't want to think about having to run away from people that want to fucking EAT ME, but the thought stays with me.
Don't get me wrong. The Road is a GREAT movie. But it's one of those films that you can only watch when you're in a depression and you need to have a good cry. Or when you're into something scary that isn't all about blood and guts the way horror movies are (which, by the way, I don't find scary, they're just gross). I'll never be able to watch that last scene without crying buckets- hearing that sweet boy say "Papa" over and over again when he realized his father was gone put me over the edge. I felt on the verge of tears through the whole thing but that did it for me.
I'm not one for the so-called "classic" novels, either, but I would read Cormac McCarthy before I EVER touched anything by Faulkner or one of the other supposedly great American writers. I can see how Nick Cave's first novel, And the Ass Saw the Angel, garnered comparisons. It was probably intentional, but still.
So... Anyway... Check it out. But be forewarned, it's a tough watch.
Friday, October 29, 2010
I have problems, I just know it.
The latest addition to my Stable of Fantasy Dudes: Jeffrey Dean Morgan.
First off, I know that a lot of people get Jeffrey here and Javier Bardem mixed up. I did the first time I saw a preview for Eat Pray Love, but that was just a glance. The picture below is from a blog where the girl writing was basically saying that she can't tell a difference between the two of them, even when concentrating.
Um... Really? Because I could name SEVERAL.
Well, let's just take a look.
Aside from their eyes being different colors, and their noses, eyebrows, lips, jawlines, and hairlines being completely different... Oh, wait.
You could make a case for Jeffrey looking like Jeremy Piven, I guess, but that's not something I like thinking about because... Eww. Seriously.
Anyway... I first ran across him when I saw Watchmen and absolutely fell in love. I know that the Comedian was a total asshole but God was he sexy. Something about him made me giggle like an excited schoolgirl. I texted my friend Pinkie when I left the movie theatre and told her she had to check it out, because not only was it an awesome movie but there's also a drool-worthy actor in it. What can I say? I was excited.
Admittedly, I didn't think about him much after that. I did when The Losers came out, but I didn't see it. Still haven't. I didn't have the time, I was trying to get ready to move. I don't have a good excuse now.
Nope. No good excuse. Jesus, what's WRONG with me!?
Aww... Dimples! I love dimples. I think they're so cute.
Oh, yes...
Most of what I know about him is surprisingly unimpressive. He played the dad on Supernatural, although you'd think those two guys playing the lead characters would look better had they really been his sons. Neither of them would even pass for his nephew- stuff like that bothers me and I know it's stupid but when you can REALLY tell they're not related... Anyway. I saw ONE episode while I was in high school, and I won my reputation as a freak when I stated plainly, when asked which guy I thought was cuter by an over-eager classmate who'd been trying to get me to watch it because I'm "really good with all that stuff"; "Well, I thought their dad was a lot better-looking." And that was the first time I ever heard "daddy issues" thrown my way.
The other night, I ran across a video on YouTube of him on Craig Ferguson's show and I ended up watching ALL OF THEM. I was trying to stay up cos I had to drive my mom and my stepdad to the airport at 4 AM and it was great to have found something that kept my interest enough to keep my ass awake.
Well, I went to the Red Box in front of Walgreens today and rented The Losers, since I was returning a DVD to Netflix (Johnny Suede, this old Brad Pitt movie with Nick Cave playing an albino rock star named Freak Storm. Oh my GOD it was such a bad movie but it was fun.) and I won't be getting another until probably Saturday.
I think I may need to rent it again. It was fucking AWESOME but I don't think I paid enough attention to it because I can't remember what exactly was going on the whole time. I was distracted for a number of reasons, but I loved it and think I may want to own it.
In any case, you know that you've got a problem when you can't watch a movie with a dude you're attracted to without, as soon as he appears onscreen, you saying out loud, "Hey, baby..." and then proceeding to halfway zone out through the whole thing. Maybe I've just been a little too involved with myself lately.
First off, I know that a lot of people get Jeffrey here and Javier Bardem mixed up. I did the first time I saw a preview for Eat Pray Love, but that was just a glance. The picture below is from a blog where the girl writing was basically saying that she can't tell a difference between the two of them, even when concentrating.
Um... Really? Because I could name SEVERAL.
Well, let's just take a look.
You could make a case for Jeffrey looking like Jeremy Piven, I guess, but that's not something I like thinking about because... Eww. Seriously.
Anyway... I first ran across him when I saw Watchmen and absolutely fell in love. I know that the Comedian was a total asshole but God was he sexy. Something about him made me giggle like an excited schoolgirl. I texted my friend Pinkie when I left the movie theatre and told her she had to check it out, because not only was it an awesome movie but there's also a drool-worthy actor in it. What can I say? I was excited.
Admittedly, I didn't think about him much after that. I did when The Losers came out, but I didn't see it. Still haven't. I didn't have the time, I was trying to get ready to move. I don't have a good excuse now.
Nope. No good excuse. Jesus, what's WRONG with me!?
Aww... Dimples! I love dimples. I think they're so cute.
Oh, yes...
Most of what I know about him is surprisingly unimpressive. He played the dad on Supernatural, although you'd think those two guys playing the lead characters would look better had they really been his sons. Neither of them would even pass for his nephew- stuff like that bothers me and I know it's stupid but when you can REALLY tell they're not related... Anyway. I saw ONE episode while I was in high school, and I won my reputation as a freak when I stated plainly, when asked which guy I thought was cuter by an over-eager classmate who'd been trying to get me to watch it because I'm "really good with all that stuff"; "Well, I thought their dad was a lot better-looking." And that was the first time I ever heard "daddy issues" thrown my way.
The other night, I ran across a video on YouTube of him on Craig Ferguson's show and I ended up watching ALL OF THEM. I was trying to stay up cos I had to drive my mom and my stepdad to the airport at 4 AM and it was great to have found something that kept my interest enough to keep my ass awake.
Well, I went to the Red Box in front of Walgreens today and rented The Losers, since I was returning a DVD to Netflix (Johnny Suede, this old Brad Pitt movie with Nick Cave playing an albino rock star named Freak Storm. Oh my GOD it was such a bad movie but it was fun.) and I won't be getting another until probably Saturday.
I think I may need to rent it again. It was fucking AWESOME but I don't think I paid enough attention to it because I can't remember what exactly was going on the whole time. I was distracted for a number of reasons, but I loved it and think I may want to own it.
In any case, you know that you've got a problem when you can't watch a movie with a dude you're attracted to without, as soon as he appears onscreen, you saying out loud, "Hey, baby..." and then proceeding to halfway zone out through the whole thing. Maybe I've just been a little too involved with myself lately.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Gaahhh...
Stress. It fucking BLOWS.
Today, I spent my day out of the house (our AC is out AGAIN, damn it!) and followed up on a few applications. It went alright- I got leads from Victoria's Secret and Fusion, the salon I interviewed at a week and a half ago. But I'm a bit confused about Toys R Us. I went in to ask to speak with someone about an interview, and I left my name and number. The customer service girl made a note that I had come in rather than just call.
The confusing part? When I checked my email a few hours later, I had gotten a message from the website basically telling me my application had been rejected. So I don't know what's up with that. I don't really want to work in a damn toy store with a bunch of screaming kids running around all day, but I'm tired of being yelled at for being unemployed even though I AM trying.
Anyway...
In other news, I got Sin City in the mail from Netflix today, but since it's hotter than the seventh circle of Hell in my room, I couldn't sit there long enough to watch it. Hopefully the repair guy will show up tomorrow and I can enjoy myself properly, later, though, because it's obviously a late night sort of movie. Besides, I can't watch a gory movie like that when I feel all puky and gross. I might actually throw up.
So instead, while my mom and my stepdad were out with friends, I ate pizza and watched Kick-Ass in the living room. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But then I got to thinking, and I remembered that Aaron Johnson, the angel-faced 20-year-old that played Kick-Ass, is engaged to a woman 23 years older than he is and they're expecting a baby. I feel kinda bad for him in a way, because as happy as he thinks he is now, he's not going to enjoy his life the way someone his age should. He's only two weeks shy of being EXACTLY one year younger than me. Sometimes I feel a million years old, and sometimes I feel so stupid and inexperienced that I can't imagine having kids anytime soon.
And yet three of my friends have either married or had kids or both since graduating high school. Greenie was the first. She found out she was pregnant about two months after I moved away in 2007. Her son is just over two years old now. And then another friend of ours decided, after only about six months of dating, she and her boyfriend were ready to have a baby together. Her daughter is almost two. And now Pinkie is going to have a baby in a few short months. With a convicted felon.
The only one I'm worried about at this point in Pinkie. I hate, HATE her boyfriend. I tried to get along with him, tried to be nice, and all he did was treat her like shit so now I don't care. I hope the cops catch up with him and he gets murdered in prison, or better yet, becomes some lifer's permanent bitch. He thinks that all we do when we talk is bitch about him. Conceited. And this asshole thinks that I am the immature one.
I can't even get my best friend on the phone to talk to her. To see how she's doing, to talk about the fact that I'm having a hard time right now too. But nobody fucking cares. I've spent my life listening to everyone else's problems and being the best friend that I could, but as soon as I need somebody everyone fucking disappears. It's tiring because when I'm sitting in my room alone feeling like I need to have a good screaming fit but I can't because everyone else is home, all I can think about is the fact that if I were to try and tell someone about it, no matter who it was, I would see one of three things happen:
1. I would be told I was being dramatic and I needed to get over it
2. my problems would be laughed off because for some reason my thoughts and feelings mean nothing
3. my calls would be ignored completely
I don't understand it. Why doesn't my life matter? I care what happens to other people, why don't they care what happens to me? I know I don't have much going on right now, but I've got a lot of psychological stuff I'm trying to deal with and I could use some help.
I know I'm getting upset about something that happens to a lot of people. I can't help it.
Today, I spent my day out of the house (our AC is out AGAIN, damn it!) and followed up on a few applications. It went alright- I got leads from Victoria's Secret and Fusion, the salon I interviewed at a week and a half ago. But I'm a bit confused about Toys R Us. I went in to ask to speak with someone about an interview, and I left my name and number. The customer service girl made a note that I had come in rather than just call.
The confusing part? When I checked my email a few hours later, I had gotten a message from the website basically telling me my application had been rejected. So I don't know what's up with that. I don't really want to work in a damn toy store with a bunch of screaming kids running around all day, but I'm tired of being yelled at for being unemployed even though I AM trying.
Anyway...
In other news, I got Sin City in the mail from Netflix today, but since it's hotter than the seventh circle of Hell in my room, I couldn't sit there long enough to watch it. Hopefully the repair guy will show up tomorrow and I can enjoy myself properly, later, though, because it's obviously a late night sort of movie. Besides, I can't watch a gory movie like that when I feel all puky and gross. I might actually throw up.
So instead, while my mom and my stepdad were out with friends, I ate pizza and watched Kick-Ass in the living room. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But then I got to thinking, and I remembered that Aaron Johnson, the angel-faced 20-year-old that played Kick-Ass, is engaged to a woman 23 years older than he is and they're expecting a baby. I feel kinda bad for him in a way, because as happy as he thinks he is now, he's not going to enjoy his life the way someone his age should. He's only two weeks shy of being EXACTLY one year younger than me. Sometimes I feel a million years old, and sometimes I feel so stupid and inexperienced that I can't imagine having kids anytime soon.
And yet three of my friends have either married or had kids or both since graduating high school. Greenie was the first. She found out she was pregnant about two months after I moved away in 2007. Her son is just over two years old now. And then another friend of ours decided, after only about six months of dating, she and her boyfriend were ready to have a baby together. Her daughter is almost two. And now Pinkie is going to have a baby in a few short months. With a convicted felon.
The only one I'm worried about at this point in Pinkie. I hate, HATE her boyfriend. I tried to get along with him, tried to be nice, and all he did was treat her like shit so now I don't care. I hope the cops catch up with him and he gets murdered in prison, or better yet, becomes some lifer's permanent bitch. He thinks that all we do when we talk is bitch about him. Conceited. And this asshole thinks that I am the immature one.
I can't even get my best friend on the phone to talk to her. To see how she's doing, to talk about the fact that I'm having a hard time right now too. But nobody fucking cares. I've spent my life listening to everyone else's problems and being the best friend that I could, but as soon as I need somebody everyone fucking disappears. It's tiring because when I'm sitting in my room alone feeling like I need to have a good screaming fit but I can't because everyone else is home, all I can think about is the fact that if I were to try and tell someone about it, no matter who it was, I would see one of three things happen:
1. I would be told I was being dramatic and I needed to get over it
2. my problems would be laughed off because for some reason my thoughts and feelings mean nothing
3. my calls would be ignored completely
I don't understand it. Why doesn't my life matter? I care what happens to other people, why don't they care what happens to me? I know I don't have much going on right now, but I've got a lot of psychological stuff I'm trying to deal with and I could use some help.
I know I'm getting upset about something that happens to a lot of people. I can't help it.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I've Been Thinking a Lot Today.
I got to talk to Pinkie today, for about two hours, and we got to talking about guys. Again.
She complained a bit about hers, and listened to me complain a bit about my lack thereof. Long as we've known each other, she knows I would give anything just to have somebody to bitch about. She told me about the old Canadian guy that her boyfriend had invited to move in without really asking her, and that he was talking about having his ugly, misbehaving kids come to spend a weekend with him in their trailer. I said, "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to breed. I mean, it's not like I have the greatest set of genes to pass on but that's mostly because of health-related issues." And then I had a thought.
"Maybe it would be best for me to just find somebody older. Like, who had kids really young and he's divorced. Being a stepmom would be just as good, right?"
I think that's what I want. I'd probably have to wait a few years to work that out, but it seems ideal. I had already, about six months ago, decided to adopt rather than have children of my own. For a number of reasons:
1. I have a long list of small-ish health problems, but they're overwhelming when combined. I have issues with my digestion (I barely ate any dairy at all for about six years before that problem just vanished suddenly), a lot of ridiculous allergies (SOAP!? Really?), eczema, and a bad back. I don't want my child (or children) to grow up the way I did, having to explain to your best friend that you can't eat that ice cream cake or you'll be sick, or always walking around with either a sinus headache or snot dripping out of your nose, or scratching bits of your skin off in your sleep because you itch so badly, or hurting all the time because of the curve in your spine. God forbid they end up with asthma like my brother did.
2. There are so many children in this country that need to be adopted. If their parents didn't want them, I'll take them. They deserve love, too.
3. I'm afraid pregnancy might literally kill me. I'm sick or in pain all the time as it is, I can't imagine what it would be like, especially in the third trimester. Not to mention all the problems my mom had; she had five miscarriages before she got pregnant with me. I don't think I could handle one, let alone five. And the only reason I managed to stick around was because she got progesterone shots all the time. Reproductive problems (along with crazy) run on that side of my family and I'd rather just avoid it. I'll probably end up getting a hysterectomy before I'm sixty anyway.
I'm only twenty-one but I think about my future constantly. Although, one could say I'm getting a bit ahead of myself because I've never even been on a date before, let alone had a boyfriend. I've been in love, but that caused me nothing but pain.
Still, I remain optimistic and I hope that one day I'll have someone who can look at me and say, "You know, you're a bit funny in the head and you're probably the most neurotic mess I've ever seen, but I love you all the same." I know I'll never be a Grade-A piece of meat but I'd hope that I have more to offer than that. I'm always trying to learn new things, whether it be job-related (like getting technique DVDs for cuts and styles or attending makeup demos at the MAC counter) or just a new hobby (I make jewelry, crochet badly, and am currently trying to teach myself Icelandic and Finnish). I'm a total geek that loves more than anything to read, watch movies, and listen to music and then talk about it with my friends. Seriously, if I watch a movie and love it, everyone knows. I recently watched 21 Grams and didn't shut up about it for a week. Mostly because, I know it's supposed to be tragic and he's a convict and all that, but Jack Jordan (Benicio Del Toro) is so sexy in that movie. There's real sadness in his jade-green eyes, and I found myself wanting to stroke his thick gray hair (which looked like he cut it himself) and tell him it would be alright. And that sex scene with Melissa Leo? It was tasteful and really sexy up until it went back to being sad again. Something you can't say about the one with Sean Penn and Naomi Watts.
Um... What was I talking about..? Oh yeah...
That's what makes Valentine's Day so difficult for me. Not the fact that I don't have anyone to spend it with, but the constant reminders from everyone around me that supposedly you're some pathetic loser if you're alone and don't have anyone showering you with gifts. To me, it would otherwise just be another day. I don't care. I'll be alright until I find what I'm looking for. I just wish everybody didn't feel the need to make me feel like shit and remind me that I should be lonely, which makes me feel very lonely. Thanks, assholes, seriously.
She complained a bit about hers, and listened to me complain a bit about my lack thereof. Long as we've known each other, she knows I would give anything just to have somebody to bitch about. She told me about the old Canadian guy that her boyfriend had invited to move in without really asking her, and that he was talking about having his ugly, misbehaving kids come to spend a weekend with him in their trailer. I said, "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to breed. I mean, it's not like I have the greatest set of genes to pass on but that's mostly because of health-related issues." And then I had a thought.
"Maybe it would be best for me to just find somebody older. Like, who had kids really young and he's divorced. Being a stepmom would be just as good, right?"
I think that's what I want. I'd probably have to wait a few years to work that out, but it seems ideal. I had already, about six months ago, decided to adopt rather than have children of my own. For a number of reasons:
1. I have a long list of small-ish health problems, but they're overwhelming when combined. I have issues with my digestion (I barely ate any dairy at all for about six years before that problem just vanished suddenly), a lot of ridiculous allergies (SOAP!? Really?), eczema, and a bad back. I don't want my child (or children) to grow up the way I did, having to explain to your best friend that you can't eat that ice cream cake or you'll be sick, or always walking around with either a sinus headache or snot dripping out of your nose, or scratching bits of your skin off in your sleep because you itch so badly, or hurting all the time because of the curve in your spine. God forbid they end up with asthma like my brother did.
2. There are so many children in this country that need to be adopted. If their parents didn't want them, I'll take them. They deserve love, too.
3. I'm afraid pregnancy might literally kill me. I'm sick or in pain all the time as it is, I can't imagine what it would be like, especially in the third trimester. Not to mention all the problems my mom had; she had five miscarriages before she got pregnant with me. I don't think I could handle one, let alone five. And the only reason I managed to stick around was because she got progesterone shots all the time. Reproductive problems (along with crazy) run on that side of my family and I'd rather just avoid it. I'll probably end up getting a hysterectomy before I'm sixty anyway.
I'm only twenty-one but I think about my future constantly. Although, one could say I'm getting a bit ahead of myself because I've never even been on a date before, let alone had a boyfriend. I've been in love, but that caused me nothing but pain.
Still, I remain optimistic and I hope that one day I'll have someone who can look at me and say, "You know, you're a bit funny in the head and you're probably the most neurotic mess I've ever seen, but I love you all the same." I know I'll never be a Grade-A piece of meat but I'd hope that I have more to offer than that. I'm always trying to learn new things, whether it be job-related (like getting technique DVDs for cuts and styles or attending makeup demos at the MAC counter) or just a new hobby (I make jewelry, crochet badly, and am currently trying to teach myself Icelandic and Finnish). I'm a total geek that loves more than anything to read, watch movies, and listen to music and then talk about it with my friends. Seriously, if I watch a movie and love it, everyone knows. I recently watched 21 Grams and didn't shut up about it for a week. Mostly because, I know it's supposed to be tragic and he's a convict and all that, but Jack Jordan (Benicio Del Toro) is so sexy in that movie. There's real sadness in his jade-green eyes, and I found myself wanting to stroke his thick gray hair (which looked like he cut it himself) and tell him it would be alright. And that sex scene with Melissa Leo? It was tasteful and really sexy up until it went back to being sad again. Something you can't say about the one with Sean Penn and Naomi Watts.
Um... What was I talking about..? Oh yeah...
That's what makes Valentine's Day so difficult for me. Not the fact that I don't have anyone to spend it with, but the constant reminders from everyone around me that supposedly you're some pathetic loser if you're alone and don't have anyone showering you with gifts. To me, it would otherwise just be another day. I don't care. I'll be alright until I find what I'm looking for. I just wish everybody didn't feel the need to make me feel like shit and remind me that I should be lonely, which makes me feel very lonely. Thanks, assholes, seriously.
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I thought it was really cool, I made someone else at least smile. It always makes me happy when I do that.