elaboration

Just so I don't have to keep typing this- I sprained my wrist last week. It's kind of painful to type very much in one go, so I'm doing it in spurts. Not all that much different from my normal way of typing, but it's taking me much longer to get around to folks.

Lots of other stuff happening also, which I'll relay after the fact. Hindsight is so much more predictable than foresight.

"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein a saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."
-Hamlet, Shakespeare


Have a nice hallow'd and gracious time, one and all. I'm done here for a while- gonna take a little sabbatical from the blog, so keep yourselves out of trouble while I'm away.

Cheers,
~a

I've been doing a lot of digging through my old stuff, lately. Fortunately, that is what I'm left with these days. When I started moving around, I pleaded with my mother not to get rid of my writing or any of my photography. She agreed (she took some of it, but she agreed nevertheless). But that is all that is left from a previous life- some scraps of writing, some photographs, a few yearbooks that I never really wanted ("you'll regret it later". yeah. High school didn't mean much to me while it was a part of my daily life, why would it sometime in the far future?)

Anyway, I'm trying to decide what to do with it all. There are some pretty decent poems, a story I started in the sixth grade... a college term-paper that I aced... but mostly just me trying to grapple the world in the present time I wrote each of them. It's funny- this side of me has never really changed very much over the years. I would like to think I've matured past the age of... oh I don't know, twelve. But the written voice is the still same, even now.

I am finished. done.

finally.

Quite the f'ing journey, let me tell you.... Wellington, Tokyo and now a little podunk theater in P-land. (actually, for those of you who know, it was the theater on Broadway. Not really podunk, but being under a skyscraper is bothersome.)

From first hearing about the trilogy from talking to die-hard Tolkien fans in NZ who were on a crazy expedition to find the LOTR set so they could fulfill their destiny to be extras (they were WAAAY off. I was in the North Island, filming at that time was down in the South Island. I remember the LOTR folks were trying to be secretive about where they were filming. But if you found them, they would oblige your efforts); to watching the first film in the town that many of its citizens put their blood, sweat and tears into.... (not to mention to see a Cave Troll looming over the street above the theater... heeeheee!!); to the stringy little fellow who was trying to get a job at Weta in Wellington (he was quite the computer animator) and all the world hype and hullabollu... whoosh.

What a ride.

I can finally move on, now that a side of my attention has been returned back to me.

There were a few points I crinkled my nose at for this last one, but damn... Peter Jackson had to finish not one movie, but three. His delievery throughout was consistantly above expectations. And the expectations for this triology was high, even for those who only knew ABOUT the Tolkien stories.

And it was so nice to see a bit of NZ again. coooo.

It was fun- I sort of got roped into a Christmas party for a Fab group at Intel (fab= fabrication plant). They all took off early to see the film- so a bunch of multicultural "nerds" were ahead of me in line. (heh- my brother works in one of those Fabs. not theirs though.) One guy hadn't seen the first two, so all his buddies were feeding him completely different plot lines. I got kind of swarmed in by them in the theater, which was great, because they completely got into the movie- applauding, cheering... I love that.

I have to say, my best movie experiences ever are associated with that silly trilogy.

Some news in the real life of me....

I'm to be an aunt again. Well, technically, I'm already an aunt. But there's another one on the way. Due sometime in late July. Yet another kiddo running around correcting people, "No! That's not Amanda! That's Auntie Mandy!" heh. Should be fun.

Some thing a little less unrelated- after the holidays I'm going to pick up and move on. I think better on my feet. Even more so when I'm away from some of the little-more-destructive-than-helpful forces in my world.

Yeah, yeah- I should deal with them. Later. Right now, I have better things to do- like bulid my own safe haven.

yeah, yeah- I tried this in September. September was then. This is now.

The destination will be decided in a minute. That minute will be either before or after I'm moving. :)

And... oh yeah... I went to this place last night with a big crowd: Le Bistro Montage The poor bug (my nephew) watched in horror as my brother and I downed mussel shooters. He makes the greatest faces now, which provides never-ending entertainment for us "adults" in his life.

Good times. Jumbulaya.

Obviously, this is going to need its own blog post....

Call me a freakin' nerd, call me a ring toadie, I don't care. I will find a way to get to the theater on Wednesday. Or Thursday. I've watched Lord of the Rings countless times now, due to the multiple voice-over commentaries available on the extended DVD. Just watching extended version is awesome- it's like watching a whole new movie. There's much more character development to balance out the battle scenes.

Two Towers is being purchased as I type this- a concession on my part as it was going to be a christmas present to my brother. Both of us wanted to see the second one again before watching the third. We should be able to watch Two Towers some time this weekend (hopefully).

All the misguided excitement from the Matrix triology is being funneled for better purposes. I refuse to watch the third installment of the Matrix. I was offered a chance to see it for free recently and I turned it down. I'm unemployed, spending much of my time cruising the net and I STILL consider my time more valuable than wasting it on that hour-plus garbage. I will not be bribed into watching crap because there's a name I recognize attached to it.

(okay, I know- I'm completely unhip on the DVD thing. But I've been in pop culture coma for the past few years. I tried watching the Billboard Music Awards the other night, thinking I could catch up a little as I need some new music. I turned it off after No Doubt. I didn't know anyone else on there except Sting. And I didn't want to.)

I'm 24 years old and I feel like I'm at least twice that old for demanding more from the entertainment industry. Even LOR is a solid piece of pure genre work- but at least it's SOLID.

Things I've (re)learned this week

- speaking the same language as the hairdresser isn't necessarily an advantage.

- I really miss New Zealand. I mean, REALLY miss the place. Really.

- I hate watching previews for a movie I know I want to see. So now, I shield my vision when advertisements show me scenes. I don't want to see the best scenes before the rest of the movie. Surprise me, dammit. Or I'll surprise myself.

- etymology of the phrase "red herring"- as peasants returned to their homes with illegally poached deer, they would drag a dead bloody fish (red herring) across different trails to confuse the lord's bloodhounds.

- dying is a very personal action.

- re: double negative. The Italians have a saying: Non ho niente mia! (I don't have nothing never!) A triple negative that defies all grammatical logic. But I'm sure we've all been there.

- Inconceivable- adj. 1. not conceivable; unimaginable. 2. unbelievable.

- the world is just a little more wonderful to have cats in it. (my cat made me say that. if I don't, he'll continue to wake me at 3 in the morning to be fed. How may you ask? By tickling me. He knows I won't wake up to any noise he can make. So he tickles my arms and face. I'm hoping this blog mention will work. I'm losing a lot of sleep due to the laughter.)

- I have a terrible amount to learn about the world. Like surfing.

- and I am this:

Fantastic dream last night. It even had a title- "Route 1". It was about three brothers growing up on the California coast in the 1940s. The father was sort of a Willy Loman character, always trying his damnedest to do right by his family and sell brushes to get the commission. The mother was dead, I think- never saw her in the dream.

Anyway, the brothers are surfers and none of them ever think to settle down and raise a family, like their father had to. Each of them wants to pursue hopeful aspirations- mostly tied to riding big waves. Yet eventually, they all fall into a family life- a first (popular) route to happiness. They have 14 kids between the three families. I think my role was as their teacher, because I had all of them sitting down on a bench, kids falling off on both sides.

I love it when my dreams make up interesting stories. I'm just as much of a spectator as anyone else.

Speaking of which, I'm working on a doozy of a story offline, which I hope, explains for some of the lack of posting and seemingly irrelevant subject matter. But then, it's my blog.

oh yeah... shhhh. Don't tell anyone.

But I plan on busting out of here come January.

Well, what do you know? I received a letter from Santa Claus today.

Kid you not. It's from Santa Claus, Indiana... so I know it's real. (A little side note- I have relations near all sorts of Christmas attractions- North Pole, Alaska and this place.) He tells me he has very big secret waiting for me for Christmas, so this should be interesting.

The man I've been helping to take care of the past few months has taken a turn for the worst. It's painfully sad- the whole family has shut down, just waiting for the inevitable. Nowhere to go. Just only to let go.

Time to reevaluate what is and the time that is given.

The reason I bring this love stuff up is that I've recently come to the idea that I could live a very full life without feeling it again. (I'm talking about romantic love, not familiar love).

I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not, but it seems to be a pretty fair asessment.

Of course, this probably cancels out on having intimate relationships with any real meaning, but that's not happening much anyway. And I am okay with that.

I'm happiest on my own terms. I'm not looking to get married or have any children. Dating gives me a headache. Being broken-up over someone is awful. Breaking-up with someone is just as bad. And then there's the uncertainty of the relationship within it- is this person being faithful? can I trust this person with a potted plant, a cat, meeting my family, a dock line, a scuba tank, twenty bucks to buy a carton of milk? Not to mention any feelings that may come up that I may not have control of. Yeah great. That sounds like a lot of fun. Ugh.

Love can be lovely, but it can kill ya more often than not.

love continued...

what brings people to it? what pushes others away from it?

I lived both sides of the coin... fear and pain from finding myself alone in a place I wanted very much to share. also the incredible rush of giving a part of myself that I would never trust to give to another person- I knew there was no way I could not not give it to that person at that time... if that makes any sense.

In any case, fear love trust pain manipulation beauty darkness light rage forgiveness- it's all there.

so where to go from here?

Caution: it may look like naive little girl ahead. I'm not looking for set answers. I'm just trying to approach this while I don't have an invested interest in the outcome.

At least, I don't think I have an invested interest in it right now. I've been wrong before.

What's love got to do with it?

I don't seriously think about love often. At least not in the way of diving into it with fearless abandon that it warrants at times. The last time that happened was about two years ago. Since then, I've ignored it within my own life, while watching others grapple with it, mostly without much measurable success.

Last night, I listened to the wind storm and wondered about it. (Not that I'm going to start looking for it, mind you.) I started thinking how it worked for some and not others.

I've witnessed some incredible extremes in love- lately, I've been spending time with a couple who love each other tremendously, who are both dying of cancer at a synchronous rate. Neither one of them would dream of letting the other go through this illness alone. I suppose they don't have much choice in the matter, but that's not really the point. They are moving through their own fatality together.

Back in September, my father and I sat in a pub and discussed what it takes to find someone to love who will love you in return. We both admitted that I may have had a little more sucess in that department than he has (poor guy). But this is what we could figure...

1. It has to be a compatible sort of person,
2. who is not already attached (there are all sorts of levels of attachment),
3. in the same place,
4. at the same time,
5. moving in a similar direction.

Five conditions. And believe me, having four out of five doesn't cut it.

There are all sorts of love- lingering dormant to the rare fearless abandon that sells movies and romance novels. I'm not a dried-up old bitty- there's a heart in here somewhere. But it seems to me that it can lead us on fools' errands, leaving us wondering how the hell we got here in the first place. Then we remember... oh yeah. we were flying once.

Don't want to get my wings clipped, but there have been more than once that I've wanted to look up a wing clipper in the yellow pages.

yes, I contributed to it. But all I did was the tree, I swear.

It looks like a large, but very jolly Christmas entity took a huge sneeze in the living room. The room is caked in festivity.

Tha cats are happy, though- they have their favorite water dish back, complete with a massive decoration coming out of it with all the lights, bells, strings and hiding spots they love.

Actually, it should be a nice christmas this year- the bug is bigger, I'm poor but that's okay and it's always nice to have people around when it was lacking the year before. This will be the last christmas that will be "full" of people, so yeah... I'll be enjoying it.

But, the house is remarkably covered in Christmas shit... eh.. snot. Whatever.