the best and the worst

Who's your favorite character from a movie that came out in the last year? Who's your least favorite character?


 I thought it would be easy to answer this question since I feel that I watch a fair number of movies at home.  then I researched the top 50 movies of 2010 and discovered I have only seen one. 

wow

I need to realize that purchasing vhs movies from value village and goodwill does not count as staying "current".  I do, however, like the price of $1 or less very, very much.  and I occasionally branch out and make purchases from the $5 or under bins at reputable grocery stores, also.  I'm in transition.

so, the only movie I watched, from the top 50 website I went to, was the King's Speech.  and I only just saw that in theatres a month ago ... which, correct me if I'm wrong, was in 2011, not 2010 but, clearly, I am not an authority on television or movies.

my favourite character in the King's Speech was Queen Elizabeth.  her endurance, her tenacity, her helpfulness in love and her obvious hope in a time of adversity was not only admirable but also believable.  who wouldn't succeed with a partner like that?  she was a minor character, for sure, but sometimes the ones in the background are those making the most meaningful waves, in the end. 

my least favourite character, from a movie I also saw in the theatre, and it was most definitely in the year 2010, is from Iron Man 2.  I loved the iron man movies.  but I just got the heebie jeebies in such a huge way every time Whiplash came out.  like: seriously. grossed. out. wanted. to. leave. ew, ew, ew! least favourite character.  he was just so greasy and cheesy and his whips bugged me so much!  seriously ... I can't even write about him any more.

calm down

What do you do to calm your nerves when things are getting tough?


would you believe me if I said "get tattooed"? 

seriously slept like a baby last night. I'm halfway through now.

lost

Have you ever lost anything of value? Do you still think about it? Imagine how you'd feel if you'd given it away instead.


I am, sadly, constantly losing things.  It's almost a perpetual state of I have no idea where it is at-edness.  I do, on the flip side, though, remember words.  almost verbatim.  this is not always a good thing.

once I lost my engagement ring.  I was afraid to say anything about it.  I eventually had to admit that I had because you can only keep your left hand in a pocket for so long.  the only solution, though, at a time like that, is to calmly and gently tell me how sad you are for me, but, honestly?  gotta live without it cause, yah,  money doesn't grow on trees.  I only felt slightly terrible because it wasn't expensive at all, and I had bought it myself all those years ago, on my handy dandy western mastercard. 

not that there's anything wrong with that.

when my mother in law found out, she produced a rather large diamond collective (fourteen diamonds all bigger than the single "one" I had lost ... yikes), saying that a girl needs an engagement ring and this was going to be my inheritance but she would give it to me, happily, now.  I found my original ring in an obscure pocket of my winter coat a bit later.  that's usually the way it goes.

I also, once, lost a really super cute mini brown phone, complete with mini spirally cord, that went in my fisher price doll house.  actually, the bully down the road (julie) stole it right out from under my nose.  she went so far as to proclaim that I didn't need the phone cause I was too stupid to use it properly so she was taking it.
clearly I am still not over that loss.

another time, I decided I was ok to part with dressie bessie, whom I received for my fifth birthday.  mom has the picture at home or I would "insert here".  I gave her to the church nursery.
a few months later I totally took her back.

what really counts, though, are the friends I have both lost and given away.
and I'm never really sure which hurts more.

stranded

If you were stranded on a desert island, what ten things would you want in your pockets?


first off, let me say I would want to clarify which island I would like to be stranded on, except I have only ever been to a few, and only one was tropical.  I would NOT care to be stranded on the island I read about in Life of Pi.  No sir.  gross people-eating trees. 
and I would NOT like to be stranded on an island with malaria because my house building skills are severely lacking and I would not be able to tolerate the high doses of medication needed to combat said malaria, either.

so, assuming I am only stranded on a desert island because I chose to be ( for, like, maybe two days )  I would conveniently have, in my pockets, the following:

1. a fully charged, long lasting ipod with only good music that I like on it
2. a pack of Fun Dip ... it would have apple, orange and grape and only one lick stick that would not break
3. sunglasses
4. a full water bottle
5. a postcard with a great print on it that I could look at over and over and not grow bored of
6. a copy of a book that would pierce my soul upon reading it
7. a photo album with a supurb picture of every person I love in it
8. a papermate 0.7 lead refillable pencil ( the design on the outside can not be ugly )
9. a brown, leather-bound book of blank, handmade paper
10. a packet of lemonade crystals

wordless weekend

journey in love

before I got married, I told my friend, michelle, that all I wanted from her was a deighton original.  I knew it was asking a lot, considering exams were looming in the near future, and she had showers to throw for me and other organizational, grown-up things to do as my matron of honour.  I really wasn't sure if she could pull it off.
artistically?  absolutely
time wise?  not so sure
but she did
I remember them coming over to our apartment the week after we were hitched, not sure if maybe they should be leaving us alone since we didn't have a honeymoon and had had to be around all kinds of family for christmas.  michelle brought the painting upstairs, wrapped in bath towels, and presented it to us.

journey in love

it has hung in a prominant place in every apartment and house we have ever lived in, papua new guinea excepted.  I often find myself staring at it, wondering what part of the journey am I living right now?  is it a darker patch of paint I'm swimming in, or is it the lightest shade of white?

To fear is to expect punishment. To love is to know we are immersed not in darkness, but in light.
- Mother Teresa

perception plays a part

I know there are seasons I have gone through, in the 39 years of my life, and the 17 years I have been married.  life isn't always easy, or simple, nor can every circumstance be explained away with a simple pat answer, but I wouldn't change a single thing. 
last night, before succumbing to sleep, I had just finished looking at pictures of a dear friend's birthday, and I was overcome with emotion, thinking about all the friends I have, all over the world, literally.  I wondered, in that brief moment, how I ever got to be so blessed by so much love, both in giving and receiving.

I look at michelle's painting and I feel as though I can say there ... that brush stroke represents the time I ... and that ... that colour symbolizes everything I was feeling when ... and this ... this is what I am aspiring to, for the future.

big lightbulb

I've been thinking about this post for a while now.  This month is all about character, and I have been examining mine.  Not an altogether bad thing to do.  I already wrote about procrastination, but I don't think I really am much of a procrastinator.  When I stall, it's usually because I am unsure of what I think has to be the "right" answer, whatever that might mean to me.  If the situation seems insurmountable enough, I will embrace my personal version of flight (as in fight or flight). 
I run away a lot

It happened, supposedly, randomly enough.  I was on the NaBloPoMo site and scrolled down to see some of the blogs that had made it to the front page.  Not sure how they get there but I started reading one in particular that for no reason I can think of, really, made me click the ... continue link.

I don't believe in coincidences

I read more and suddenly found myself with that holy crap they just spoke into my life feeling, a cross between sinking reality and shocked discovery that you have been "found out".  If I could remember the blog I would link here for you, but it was one of those momentary things and I moved on to something else, though the lightbulb still burns very brightly in the not so recessed parts of my mind.

I can try to re-cap, and see if this rings true for you.  The author of the post was writing about how much she loves order, and, in particular, a specific container store that she frequents.  See, in this store, there is a place for everything and everything is in its place.  She feels contented in this store, like she can relax, solve problems, conquer anything.   The containers all rest happily and she feels energized by the plastic emoted karma.

She was reiterating this perfect scenario to her husband when he quietly interrupted her to say these profound words:
you love order on the outside because you don't know how to order your inside

If I could have been physically propelled from my chair at that precise moment, I would have, ala Garth in Wayne's World, whenever he saw foxy lady.  It was that powerful to me.

Yesterday, as I was reading a new novel, the same thought was presented.  Not just one time, but as a recurring theme, not exactly matching mine, but the nuances were too similar to escape. I have a lot to ponder these days, it would seem.

I caught the madness from Martin.  He had come home from the war in Germany obsessed with the need for calm and order, and by the time we had dragged ourselves halfway around the world to that untidy subcontinent I was cleaning compulsively, drowning confusion in soapy water, purging discontent with bleach and abrasive cleansers ... I didn't know how to (mend my insides), but I knew how to clean.  Denial is the first refuge of the frightened, and it *is* possible to distract oneself by scrubbing, organizing and covering smells of curry and dung with disinfectant.  It works - for a while.

nailpolish is the trick

What's the best way for you to blow off some steam?


I used to think it was shopping; not even necessarily purchasing anything, but knowing that I could, if I chose to.
I stand corrected.
It is now, apparently, shopping for sparkly charcoal nailpolish and promply spilling it onto the keyboard of my laptop and the cream couch cushion.

I was actually, legitimately both:

a) non-irritated

and

b) not surprised

after which, I simply turned over the couch cushion and went back to my day, completely steam-less.

as a side note, only my left thumb is painted.  (see my post on procrastination)

pie and such

yesterday I was supposed to bake a turkey pot pie.  I put it together on saturday.  I was proud.  I made everyone in the house look at it.  I should have baked it then and there but I was too lazy preoccupied with other things.  and so it sat in the fridge ... saturday, sunday, all day monday.
I started to do the math (big deficit with me) and thought:

hmmmm.
when did we first take that bag of turkey out of the freezer?
what did I even eat last week?
I know I didn't have any of the turkey.  when did the kids make turkey sandwiches?  what do I know ... I'm not out of bed yet when they leave for school.
so I texted Neal and asked him.  he said he took the turkey out of the freezer a day or two before we had perogies.
which was either wednesday or thursday, because I convinced him to share a sub with me instead.
(this is not looking good)

so, at the last minute, I decided that the turkey was too old and might make us sick because NO ONE can remember when it was first used for sandwiches.  I left the pie in the fridge and cooked things that came out of boxes and freezer bags.
this is a regular occurance at our house.

p.s. for some reason, the turkey pot pie is still in the fridge.

sometimes I wish the "grown-up fairy" would come and touch me on the head with her wand.

love

I don't particularly care for valentine's day.  I never really have.  I usually post my valentine's short story on this day, but decided against it this year. 
I like the idea of valentine's day, I suppose, but would seriously hate to be the girl who only gets 'loved on' on that day. 
I don't like the taste of the cheap chocolates that come in those tacky, velvet, heart-shaped boxes.
red isn't my favourite colour, either.
there isn't a love song on the radio that melts my heart.
valentine's day just plain isn't me.

but I am sentimental
hugely

for instance, this weekend (took me three days if you can believe it) I finally watched the jodi foster version of the king and I.
I cried.
I was truly touched by the portrayal of the king of siam and how he legitimately seemed to love, equally, all of his children and was tender to every one of his many wives.  I'm not saying that polygamy is a good idea, just that the movie was beautiful.
I was deeply moved, especially, by tuptim's love for one man, though she was denied the freedom to unite with him.  they were willing to sacrifice their very lives, one for the other; the epitome of true love.

if love was a choice, who would choose to feel such exquisite pain?

... I would.
love is a choice
and it's so very, very worth it

wordless weekend

wordless weekend

play-a-holic

the question today is do you work too much?

and ima respond with a resounding  nope

people who know me would certainly agree that I am a very busy girl, but that isn't all work, though I love what I do.  I add a fair bit of play to the gypsy-mix, baby ...

cause you can't and you won't and you don't stop

letter to kristina

ever have a nagging thought that, well, recurs quite freqently but is one that you simply shrug off as, I dunno, maybe someone else's problem?  the kind of thought that shows up from time to time, occupying its proper place in your grey matter but you can't be bothered to pay any heed to?
maybe it's inconsequential
maybe it's monumental
either way, it's ignored

well, last night, when you had that momentary kind of thought as you were preparing what you affectionately refer to as "dinner".  that lingering idea that, as a chef, you totally, utterly and completely suck.
you have even said it outloud, to test the truth of it, finding that most people try to instantly make you feel better by suggesting that they have either

a) eaten your cooking and turned out just fine or
b) that surely you jest

well, last night, as said dinner was ready and you started putting foodstuffs on plates?   that's when it happened.  you had a lightbulb revelation, completely spellbound by your own ineptitude-ed-ness, in living colour (or lack of colour as is often the case).
and I just want you to know that I totally heard you ...
for once, even *you* were, like ... wow

even the cat was mortified

truth?
you gotta try harder, babe.
just being honest, here.
feel free to re-read this letter whenever you need to ... there is help.

I can be nice

I have had people tell me, on more than one occasion, to "be nice" when I tell them about a particular post I am planning to write.  Not sure what I am most of the time, but apparently it is not nice.

Well, today I will be (as opposed to the other 364 days?).  Perhaps these folks were being self-deprecating, their conscience pricking them til they felt they had to verbally suggest I only write pleasant things because they felt they were not worthy of them.
please.
I am so. not. like. that.

For instance, just this very morning a plumber came to my door.  He had been called to our aid, so it wasn't like spontaneous or anything.  I was expecting him.  What I was not expecting was that he would actually be kinda cute.  That never happens!  I immediately texted Neal to tell him of my good fortune.  He was very happy for me and made some kind of joke about a butt crack.  Funny ... when I texted Kerrie, she did too.  In any case I was

a) not lying at all
b) feeling like I was being tremendously "nice"

no.  I did not tell said plumber.

He, though, in turn, was nice to me by smiling when he told me that our plumbing pipes all need to be cut out and replaced because they are mostly either backwards or wrong.

At least this time I did not have to explain why someone had attempted to flush a whole mason jar of pickles.

and speaking of plumbing, I got a Groupon email today letting me know that I can receive 51% off the regular price of panties by post.  How is that for a tie-in?

question

so, seriously ... have any of you all been here?  I want to go in march or april but want to know what you think.
message me on facebook, or email me or comment.

wordless weekend

driman

last night I didn't sleep all that well, but when I was asleep, I was flooded with the most excellent dreams.  One in particular I will bother to tell you about.
I dreamed I went back to Papua New Guinea, which isn't that far-fetched since I will willingly bore anyone with stories and details any time I am asked.  I love what I saw of that country.  I would love to return one day.  People often say that taking a trip like that changes you ... I really don't believe it did.  I do believe that it helped me cement my character, confirmed my attitudes and beliefs and brought to light some new desires of my heart.  It was crazy hard at times, but crazy good.

Last night, I was visiting the house of a woman I don't actually know, but it was, apparently, my old house and had been completely renovated for this other family.  I loved the way my brain took every single little detail in.  The grain of the wood floors, the colour and pattern of the linoleum, the soft fabric of the curtains gently blowing in the breeze.  I saw all the food on her counter and thought about how good it would all taste, later.  I saw her children, quietly observing the bun nating wait meri wearing traditional klos yet seeming a part of the every day scenery.  It was afternoon, typically the hottest part of the day for me, yet I was instantly at ease. 

I eventually went into the basement with her, which is just weird since there wouldn't be a basement but whatever, dream.  Some overhead pipes were leaking.  I was telling her what is normal and what to be looking for, in the future, all in tok pisin.
I think that is often my favourite part of my Papua dreams; listening to someone speak the language and striving in my often limited way to converse back.  The next thing I usually do, when I dream PNG style, is eat, of course.  I eat greased rice, always, and copious amounts of fruit, washed down with clear, cool water that doesn't taste remotely of chlorine because why would it? 
and I am always smiling or laughing.
and my meri blaus is pretty
and my laplap never comes undone

The most excellent part came as I was waking up to reality, hearing that we had received a text from a national friend in Papua ... from his home in the jungle, where we have often visited.  who would ever have thought?  man, I miss that place and the people I love who are still there.

It's amazing what dreams can do.

procrastination

Tell us seven things you do when you procrastinate

you know, let me first start by saying I am extremely happy that this was not a weighty question today because I couldn't handle it. not today. my brain is full already, thank you.

and I did pretty well in the procrastination department today because I should have worked a lot more than I did, but I'm still sick
ish
and I was cold but really like this shirt so I couldn't just go put a sweater on or something because that would wreck it.

so I procrastinated

a lot

I was also supposed to do some laundry, maybe. I mean, I'm my boss so I set the schedule and even though it's Thursday, it really feels like Monday all over again because of the snow day yesterday, making me not even remember what day yesterday was. thankfully I have my iPhone. I would not have known the date without it. it would have taken too much effort to go to my office to check my calendar.

here is what I do when I procrastinate:

1. change grammatical functions of words with my friends and start saying things like: Sarah is going to gaudy herself some french onion soup for supper tonight. brilliant.
2. go on facebook and hit "notifications" and "messages" over and over and over even though my friends all have real jobs and cannot be posting all day.
3. turn on the television even though there is no cable or satellite and I have no clue who anyone is on any show then walk away because I think tv is stupid and sucks.
4. eat. this usually placates me very very much.
5. cut my fingernails or straighten my hair, suddenly feeling that this is actually of utmost importance even though I have no.place.to.go.
6. drink a glass of water, pretending that I always drink those 6-8 glasses of water every day at this time because that is part of my daily plan.
7. listen to music incredibly loudly, hoping for my muse, pretending I'm actually a musician and this *is* my job.

annoyed?

Think about someone who annoys you. Write a list of everything you don't like about them, and then write a list of all the things that you're grateful that they've shown you about yourself.

I read this outloud, to get some feedback, and my oldest son said "make it about someone who doesn't have access to the internet". hmmmm.
well, I can certainly think of a few people who have done things to annoy me in the past. I mean, didn't I mention it on the weekend? seems to me I did. I think, though, that instead of trying to think of one person in particular, because I really have an easy time of overlooking faults in others (pause ... ok, good, no lightning) I will sort of sum up all things clanky, in general:

being patronized
being treated like a child
being ignored
being told I'm really skinny
snoring
too much stuff
messes
people not obeying the "rules"
gossip
drama
people taking to me when I'm trying to listen to music
the phone
touques
not getting the thing I ordered
the thing I ordered coming and not being right
people eating more yogourt than they are supposed to
ice cold water
drying off
wet hair
random cat poos
people not answering my questions
puffy coats
slow drivers
my favourite things getting discontinued
living in a small town (sometimes)
bad grammar in the local newspaper
my own bad spelling/grammar

unfortunately, I am unsure at this present moment what any of the above situations has managed to teach me about myself other than the fact that I have a fairly lengthy list of annoyances and a very keen dominion censor.

I might have some work to do.
(just don't get in my way)