My brother makes fun of me for being completely predictable and for good reason. I read Christ Plays in 10,000 Places, wrote, and ran today. I played on FaceBook-- there's a lot of stuff I couldn't do from my BlackBerry (that's my excuse). I did the map of all the cities I've been to, which was fun. It was a good review of 2010-- well, at least the summer. I had so much fun on the Galapagos, especially Isabella.
This holiday season has made me realize that I need to seek out my friends more. Why do I let it be so long between calls for people I adore? I've had great conversations over food and the phone with people that make me happy. There's a warm afterglow to a conversation with a friend that makes even washing dishes more pleasant. And, no doubt topics of the conversations will plop out into my writing and other conversations. So, I invited a friend to dinner who accepted then canceled; therefore, I was forced to eat a lot of cookies and drink milk for dinner! I was going to try to make grilled cheese sandwiches with brie but settled for chocolate chip cookies.
Scurrying at the back of my mind are my goals for 2011. Some are obvious: find a job for September, run a race a month (do I train for a marathon or ultra?), read, blog. Of course even the obvious goals need specifications. Then, there's the question how do you make spiritual goals? I can prioritize quiet time, reading Scripture, etc. It's like planning to fall in love but a surer bet. Maybe even cooking and not watching TV count towards spiritual awakening. Perhaps, word choice counts too. I should be more cognizant of the weightiness of words. And Eugene Peterson writes about hurry and procrastination being bad too-- they distort the sacredness of time. Perhaps, I should redirect my gaze from my navel to God. I need to go on a God-hunt every day figure out where he met me in my day-- isn't that what Marva Dawn refers to it as?
I actually tried doing some work, but my computer wouldn't open the CD. It must be because I haven't gotten Microsoft Office yet. So, I settled on cleaning out my inbox for 30 minutes... and I put a 10% dent into it. Yikes.
And, I've decided I'm going to write a book this year-- 300 pages 12 font double-spaced. How's that for specificity? I have ideas for 17 chapters. I've already outlined two. Boo yah.
Perhaps I should make it a goal that my posts have a point?
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The King's Speech & The Fighter
The King's Speech is a superb movie: well written, well acted. Tonight I went to see The Fighter. It was well acted and believable but hard. There was a lot of violence and harshness in The Fighter. In The King's Speech, the emotional brutality was equal but mitigated by elegance and wit.
The stories are roughly the same: hero overcoming obstacles (Bertie had the speech impediment, Micky poor management and training), dysfunctional family, a crucial/defining moment (Bertie the speech, Micky the title fight), an older brother failing at his chance (David falling in love with Wallis Simpson, Dicky's addiction to crack), both felt they had failed people's expectations, both protagonists were spurned on by their wife/girlfriend, the conflict was ultimately internal (Bertie not being defined by his stutter, Micky letting go of his ties to his family). Both movies were based on real people.
Coming out of The Fighter, I felt like I had been roughed up. My mom's words "It sucks to be poor" came to mind. Micky's mom was self-absorbed and greedy. He didn't have education and exposure to alternatives. All the cards were out on the table in Micky's family. There were manipulators and bad guys, but nothing was ever left to innuendo.
Whereas, Bertie had to deal with loneliness and being surrounded by sychophants. One could call it death by protocol reminiscent of the line from The Madness of King George: "I had forgotten how to seem." As long as the lips were curled in a smile, mouths could utter poisonous words. The most brutal scene of the two movies was between brothers Bertie and David. David purposely misunderstood Bertie and attacked him at his most vulnerable point in a jocular tone. And the other scene between Bertie and his father was almost as brutal-- both render the stutterer speechless.
There was no seeming in The Fighter. If a character had a problem with another character, they'd inevitably duke it out. Energy wasn't wasted on wit. Even the girls got into fist fights.
At one level, the movies served as a reminder that the human condition is the same whether one is poor or rich. No socio economic level has a monopoly on dysfunctional families, heavy expectations, true love, internal conflict, or greatness. One needs good friends, common sense and determination.
Overall, I enjoyed The King's Speech far more than The Fighter. Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale did a fantastic job, but the movie was too violent on too many levels for me. The King's Speech subtlety and elegance made the story more enjoyable and allowed for more humor.
The stories are roughly the same: hero overcoming obstacles (Bertie had the speech impediment, Micky poor management and training), dysfunctional family, a crucial/defining moment (Bertie the speech, Micky the title fight), an older brother failing at his chance (David falling in love with Wallis Simpson, Dicky's addiction to crack), both felt they had failed people's expectations, both protagonists were spurned on by their wife/girlfriend, the conflict was ultimately internal (Bertie not being defined by his stutter, Micky letting go of his ties to his family). Both movies were based on real people.
Coming out of The Fighter, I felt like I had been roughed up. My mom's words "It sucks to be poor" came to mind. Micky's mom was self-absorbed and greedy. He didn't have education and exposure to alternatives. All the cards were out on the table in Micky's family. There were manipulators and bad guys, but nothing was ever left to innuendo.
Whereas, Bertie had to deal with loneliness and being surrounded by sychophants. One could call it death by protocol reminiscent of the line from The Madness of King George: "I had forgotten how to seem." As long as the lips were curled in a smile, mouths could utter poisonous words. The most brutal scene of the two movies was between brothers Bertie and David. David purposely misunderstood Bertie and attacked him at his most vulnerable point in a jocular tone. And the other scene between Bertie and his father was almost as brutal-- both render the stutterer speechless.
There was no seeming in The Fighter. If a character had a problem with another character, they'd inevitably duke it out. Energy wasn't wasted on wit. Even the girls got into fist fights.
At one level, the movies served as a reminder that the human condition is the same whether one is poor or rich. No socio economic level has a monopoly on dysfunctional families, heavy expectations, true love, internal conflict, or greatness. One needs good friends, common sense and determination.
Overall, I enjoyed The King's Speech far more than The Fighter. Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale did a fantastic job, but the movie was too violent on too many levels for me. The King's Speech subtlety and elegance made the story more enjoyable and allowed for more humor.
my new laundromat
So, I'm using all natural light, sitting in a comfy chair in a spacious kitchen, listening to classical music all while my laundry is washing and drying. I'm playing with my new computer of course. Plus, I got taken out to eat. I'm at my aunt's house! And all I bring to the table is: company.
My aunt has moved her office to her house, and she misses people. She says it's harder to get work done. I told her found that to be true in grad school. People are a built in security system when it comes to procrastination. When my roommate is home, I may not be working on the most pressing task, but I'm forced into doing something. But my roommate is dog sitting this week, which has been very relaxing. I've done a lot of reading and journaling. The type of work that's filed under "ruminate"-- the kind of work that looks like slacking to the naked eye. But, I need this rumination to prepare for the new year. But, the quotidian tasks don't mysteriously disappear.
So, I'm getting my busy-bee work done at my aunt's. I'm doing laundry, making my TDLs, cleaning out my inboxes, and blogging about the work I'm supposed to be doing.
My aunt has moved her office to her house, and she misses people. She says it's harder to get work done. I told her found that to be true in grad school. People are a built in security system when it comes to procrastination. When my roommate is home, I may not be working on the most pressing task, but I'm forced into doing something. But my roommate is dog sitting this week, which has been very relaxing. I've done a lot of reading and journaling. The type of work that's filed under "ruminate"-- the kind of work that looks like slacking to the naked eye. But, I need this rumination to prepare for the new year. But, the quotidian tasks don't mysteriously disappear.
So, I'm getting my busy-bee work done at my aunt's. I'm doing laundry, making my TDLs, cleaning out my inboxes, and blogging about the work I'm supposed to be doing.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
long lost love
I found you! Ha. I broke down and bought a computer today so I can blog.
Confession/Narrative Tale of how I came to own a brand new 13" MacBook
I bought my other computer refurbished in September 2005. I've been in denial of its deathlike condition for over a year-- I could never call in computer hospice because it could perform some of its functions sometimes. And, I hate how Mr. The Man designs technology to be obsolete in three years. It's amoral, and I feel icky being involved in the system. But, here I am.
My sister makes fun of my Mac addiction to my face: "It doesn't make you cooler." I know. How could I possibly get cooler? I'm already at the pinnacle (comment on that). So not to be a Steve Job drone, I tried a Dell for about a week last April. But, I couldn't do it. I just didn't like it. Then, I traveled all summer. Then, I nestled back into my work routine and got busy sans computer.
One day, I looked at my blog. It'd been two months since my last entry! It'd be one thing if I'd given birth and breast-feeding every two hours. Lactation and motherhood are decent excuses. A broken computer is not. A broken computer is easy enough to remedy if I'm willing to go on a financial fast, which I just signed onto.
I've missed blogging-- the discipline of sitting down on a regular basis to put together some paragraphs together. I don't write genius, but it is the quotidian that makes up the majority of life. Writing sorts out my messy thoughts and feelings. It reminds me of the shape and Author of my life.
So, I'm back in the saddle.
Confession/Narrative Tale of how I came to own a brand new 13" MacBook
I bought my other computer refurbished in September 2005. I've been in denial of its deathlike condition for over a year-- I could never call in computer hospice because it could perform some of its functions sometimes. And, I hate how Mr. The Man designs technology to be obsolete in three years. It's amoral, and I feel icky being involved in the system. But, here I am.
My sister makes fun of my Mac addiction to my face: "It doesn't make you cooler." I know. How could I possibly get cooler? I'm already at the pinnacle (comment on that). So not to be a Steve Job drone, I tried a Dell for about a week last April. But, I couldn't do it. I just didn't like it. Then, I traveled all summer. Then, I nestled back into my work routine and got busy sans computer.
One day, I looked at my blog. It'd been two months since my last entry! It'd be one thing if I'd given birth and breast-feeding every two hours. Lactation and motherhood are decent excuses. A broken computer is not. A broken computer is easy enough to remedy if I'm willing to go on a financial fast, which I just signed onto.
I've missed blogging-- the discipline of sitting down on a regular basis to put together some paragraphs together. I don't write genius, but it is the quotidian that makes up the majority of life. Writing sorts out my messy thoughts and feelings. It reminds me of the shape and Author of my life.
So, I'm back in the saddle.
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