That moment...

... When you realise, after all these years and triumphs, there is a language there is just no fucking way you could ever learn :D

Juullimi Ukiortaassamilu pilluaritsi, bitches :D 

A line from Gorgi, that was later never included :)))

»Are you familiar with the term 'pet'?«

»Is this about the lemon balm I'm keeping in my room?«

»Agent Birnus is investigating sexual crimes.«

»God! No! Then no! I have … never had sex with a plant. Potted or otherwise! …. Well, okay, there was this one tree, but that was love. I wrote it a poem.«

Aningaaq

... I soooo wish this was done slower... and longer. And with more footage. Of everything..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zcYkuIzzy8

Got an interesting proposition. Am deeply curious how it will turn out. This is one of the things everyone should try at least twice in life..

On failing eyesight and being fourty

The last couple of weeks I've been noticing an odd decline in my 20-20 vision. I am the sort of person that, if I was a musical person, I would have perfect pitch. I have, or used to have, flawless vision. I could identify colors at a glance, any mix of them. I could read instructions for a toothpick from across the room. Lines came as sharp as lines are supposed to be. But as of late, although still acute, my vision is completely messed up. In fact, I've been seeing double. Neatly. I can still see things, just with each eye out of synch.

      My first thought, obviostly, is that I have a brain tumor. The brain looooves to draw all the credit to itself. That aside, it is more likely that I have finally strained my eyes out of their perfection and it is time to admit even I may require glasses. That is not such a bad thought. In fact I find it kind of funny.

       There are a few things I know about myself. The only thing I am afraid of, is running out of time. Few years shy of fourty, I am perfectly aware that innevitably, I will lose my sight, having made the most of it up until now. I know I will get diabetes at some point, because almost everything I eat (and greatly enjoy) is based on sugar. It is possible that at some point my mobility will get compromised and it's quite likely that someday, any day, I won't be able to use my right hand. Or wrist. 

      But being 40 is an excellent age to be this time in history. 40 is a really wise and calm age. Whatever you were going to do in life, will happen by 40. If you were gonna have a career, you have it. If you were gonna have kids, you have them. If you were gonna write a book or sail the seas, it has already been done. Nobody begins their existence at 40. Nobody decides - from now on, I will become a great explorer or inventor or a hitchhiker. (With the exception of people suffering nervous breakdowns or mid life crisis obviosly.) If you were going to invent something excellent, everything you've ever done up until now has enabled you to harvest the results. Everything you do after 40 is an encore. A dessert.

        At 40, you no longer worry about being broken. I have had a lifetime - a good lifetime- of excellent eyesight, lands seen, people met, great sex, amazing food, museums, video games, movies, projects, even music. If for some reason a part of that is taken from me now, I am okay. Diabetes, blindness, immobility... My once worst fears... They would just be different clothes now. Different frames. I have had an enormous amount of this world. Everything else that is coming my way is a funky, kinky bonus...

     Faulty eyesight .. i am at peace with you.

... And then of course along comes the General and explains to me that for the past few weeks I've been using a mascara (which I don't otherwise use), and that's why my eyesight has been suffering fatique. 

      Darn it. That would have been such a great sermon otherwise...

Riddick movie and Philomena

 
Oddly enough, I didn't find this one as terrible as I was afraid, either... Or maybe these are just the sort of movies I find entertaining. There was so much feminist h8 regarding Dahl going on when i was checking out the reviews, normally I'd agree. But Riddick is a beast, not a civilised creature, so his "balls deep in" remarks are kind of hot. It didn't seem to particularly offend Dahl. Or the fact the actress had to show her Predator Pink nipples. It wasn't over the top. She was a neat touch of feminine in a particularly dirty testosterone-dense world. Their scenes, even the scene at the end, when she extracts him, straddling him as he invited her earlier, that's kind of sexy. Come on - Vin Diesel and Katee Sackhoff getting it on? Hello? Who wouldn't want to get in the middle of that action? ... Or maybe I'm just the least of feminist females out there.

I can imagine, the maker of the movie, Twohy, got a lot of grief for the Chronicles, and people wanted to see more of the original. So he gave them full original return, down to almost the exact script. With some extra venom. In Pitch black, the victims are mostly civilians, but here, when the monsters attack, the professional muscle has the same amount of odds, namely because it's the human factor that decimates the population, not the environment. Also, the role of Santana was excellent. It's just how I imagine egomaniacal head hunters to be.

 

... In contrast, Maja and I went to see Philomena. I thank her for the experience deeply. My one thought towards the end of the film was - I would strangle those nuns like chickens, with my bare hands ... only I have absolutely nothing against chickens. Kudos to Mrs. Dench and Coogan. I don't normally swear by him, but he nailed the world-weary role of a cynical journalist to the brim.

:D

Fair, yay :D

The ending of Captain Phillips

.. Saw the ending of Captain Phillips eight or nine times by now. I haven't seen the movie yet, because it's not the kind ot just fast forward through and I haven't had the opportunity to sit down and just commit to it. But I watch the ending all the time.

Again, kudos to the casting crew. They picked such amazing people to do such a scene.

.. And I don't mean to sound blunt at the expense of human lives, but in retrospect of actual events, those marksmen delivered. It's not half easy hitting three marks in a moving boat FROM a moving boat at the same time. Weight of the world sits on your shoulders in those moments. 

In my dreams, all roads lead to water. Sometimes it is ugly, brown, bloodthirsty water, cutting the road short like a blade cuts a lifestream. Other times the road is happy to dissipate and before it opens a bay shore with flat, golden ochre surf and sapphire ocean. But regardless of the allure all roads represent to me, the promise of vast plains and hot orange sand of beloved barren wastelands, all my roads always end in water. 

Oh, Smaug the Stupendous

This was surprisingly better than I had expected! The last one sucked, the only good thing about it being Martin Freeman and a new Orc for me to masturbate about, but this one was actually an epic piece of fantasy. Not epic as if that good. Just... Freakishly high budget well spent. You get to see 25 minutes of a clever dragon roaming about a dwarf forge. That's pretty epic. 

      I admit I underestimated the use of the only female in the movie, because the trailers led us to believe she'll be Legolas' love interest and nobody wanted to see that storyline polluting an otherwise perfectly cute gay fest of all shapes and sizes. Tolkien is boy on boy action. Everyone knows that. Also, the pictures of Bolg were misleading and he turned out to be spectacularly ugly. His outfit also suggests he's never been on a date before. And enter a near perfect portrayal of the Middle Earth's second most gruesome royalty: Thranduil, the elf king of Mirkwood. One who got where he is by being a coward and an opportunist. Lee Pace delivers him astoundingly and I really do wish to see a man like that raped to death by the Gundabad boys and their dogs. He's THAT sleazy. Seven times as beautiful as any other elf so far delivered and twice as interesting as they made Beorn look, though that is also saying something. The elf CGI is terrible, though. I couldn't watch those. Also the elf talk. Tolkien languages sound like a Sudan thespian trying to do Shakespeare. But spiders were cool and the major of Laketown was cool and the Brad was hot. There was also this one moment in which Bilbo realises what the ring made him do, after he's overkilled a spider... The acting of Martin Freeman steals every single scene and all of those attached. His scenes are as new as every single close-up of Gandalf is done to death. Were it not for the unexpected love-story and the coooonstant whining of the beggar prince dwarf, Bilbo and Balin could take on this quest between the two of them alone. 

One thing I don't understand, though, is why they choose to do some scenes exactly as in the Lotter over and over again?? If Gandalf blew another butterfly to summon another eagle, I'd have walked out. Luckily, this once he summoned this great big white bubble to fend off darkness and then did the Mage Blink from Warcraft to try and outrun Azog. Also, Ironforge was amazing. I'd totally do a fashion show there. Shieldmaidens of spring 2013/2014 or any other gender optional slender blond, do pose, please. I'd could photo shoot in there for an eon. Having a dragon to DJ. That'd be a winter to weave tapestries about, too.

 

Reading Kosovel, this poet dude from around these parts who wrote hard and died young. And I can't help but to think, reading him, that he knew exactly when he was going to die. He was probably a sickly kid from the get go. Old-school nerd. Am inspired by morbid, erotic lyricism in consequence. Say

Lays there anything more beautiful

On this earth

Than a combatant man

Without a shirt

Bleeding out

In my arms

Warm still only from my lust. 

I should probably go pack to reading The Book Thief. It was cheerier. 

Thou do not piss off the General ..

Ayh, G is in a rotten mood. Granted, it's me who put him there and I am good at dodging, but he's been looking to murder someone for days now. Yesterday he spooked little Nejc like a Goliath and the day before that he took on a whole ansamble of construction workers because someone scratched our car on the parking lot. But those were just pre-eruption rumbles. Today it came out full force on the postman who allowed the neighbour lady to sign for our blue mail, thus causing the enclosed procedure to deadline without us knowing about it. I don't know how he would normally do it, but today he did it like a force of God and the poor mailman probably won't sleep without a night lamp for a year. I know it's a sick kick to see him so furious, there's something super sexy and passionate about him ... I just wish I was a better person and take the blame. But naa :DI'm a bitch. Nice when nice is due is okay. Wrath of Titans when wrath is due is hot.

A boner killer

Ha! Hah hah! here's a cosmic karma humour for ye :D I was gonna ask out a guy I thought might be fun to have around as a coffee mate. His response was - not coffee, but we can have tea from time to time. 

Now THAT, in my book, is a total deflation of an idea. Chancing the General's wrath to watch a grown man sip from a little china cup with a saucer. 

Hell no. Fuck no. Never again.

Then again I just remembered that about a decade ago this guy tried to woo me by inviting me to an intimate date at the spa - champagne, strawberries and everything. Me. Whose concept of foreplay is a topples medieval duel to the death (or an orgasm, whichever comes first) with long swords and small halberds.. Baaaaaaad judge of character, that one. Baaad.

Sometimes people aren't interested. Sometimes people just aren't interesting. 

I've been up to something naughty lately. Something I shouldn't be doing, something that will put me in a world of trouble if I got caught, something that is gonna backfire like a bitch some day. And I've been rationalising it and exploring the corners and testing reactions from the environment. All this, because I have to sit for 9 hours a day in sub zero temps and there really isn't much else to do but dig your own scorpion pit.

But let me tell you something. Thrice I was told not to do it, warned and threatened. Thrice I did it anyway. Perhaps only I understood the need to do it. This is all my universe, my set in which this is happening. Real world didn't really notice how I perceive it all. Even when the General told me that if I did it (after I've already done it), he would be embarrassed that I've shamed myself and put myself in such a position, I believed that it needed to be done. It needed to be done. It will need to be done two more times, I think, before it's completely rewarding. Someday. In it's natural course. There are some issues one carries around, that, like all demons, all fear, all fantasy, grow over their frame, hollow and foolish, but they linger and linger still. You walk into a room and there they wait and you can't think of anything else. You feel like you have no control over them. Well, that's just horse shit. Sometimes puncturing them solves it, other times it just deflates, one harsh reality blow after another. 

A miserable, cold December is the exactly right time to bullshit your way through a mental/emotional loop, that's been a thorn in your side for the better part of a decade. I'll miss it when it's gone, but good riddance, idiotic issue. 

Granted, it could have happened in the opposite direction and then I would really be in a world of hurt. But it didn't. It happened how I needed and expected it to happen. The mater became embarrassing and then it became banal. And then it became boring. Now I'm just, well, as General told me I would be and he would get angry at me for acting so unworthy, mildly humiliated it ever mattered to me at all. But he couldn't purge it by force and I could. With a trick. Nobody in the whole wide world knew what was happening and no one ever will. Save perhaps the General, who would be able to piece it together, if he wanted, or if he asked I would tell him everything. If you ask me, feeling a little bit stupid now was worth it. Cause tomorrow it will feel like I got rid of a really big tick.

Doggie walk with the General today and I don't think I've ever seen nature as funny as when ducks having sex. Seriously. That's just eye-widening sad and hilarious at the same time :D At least for the mama duck. Papa duck shakes his tail in five seconds and then does the speedboat celebrating circle around mama duck. But ye gotsta see it to believe it.

Other than that, watching A time to kill. Have forgotten how well made that movie was.

One of those perfect Fridays again :D

LoL, what a day, yesterday :D I wrote some about it in the previous post, but it didn’t end there. Yesterday was, as said, one of those days, polluted with smiling. :D It starts with me saying a heartily hello to my former father-in-law, who didn't recognize me, because he never actually bothered to look at me in the years I was married to his girly son. Then, for the second time in three days, a man who is supposed to look at me, didn't. This led to a fully fledged realization, that under twenty seven odd layers of winter/ski clothes, with a frozen face, red nose and an ugly wool cap so thick it would stop a bullet, I may in fact be a) too ugly or b) unrecognizable. Then several people came to see me and the last of those was a drunken bum who plays the guitar and has long philosophical debates with anyone who doesn't run away to escape him. He's always avoided me so far, as I can be quite harsh on hustlers. He paused before me and indicated with his fingers I should force my mouth in to a grin. I obliged. Then he ungrinned it and I frowned. The moment later he was about to wink at me and I winked first. Can't say why, but that was a really fun half a minute spent. My phone ran out of battery (the frost) and Maja was coming to cheer me up after the day of sub zero hospitality business. (I mean selling greeting cards, not prostitution.) While I was waiting for her to deliver organic juices to a Bio shop down the street (this is still literal, still not prostitution and pull your mind out of the gutter, will ya?), I pulled all my detective, gossiping and network skills to find out where a guy from earlier will be tonight (I looked at his Facebook page), which was an odd two birds with one stone, because a few hours earlier a young eager painter invited me to his opening for the, eh, umpteenth time in the last decade and I always squirmed out of it. Even though I know how good it feels to have a full room of people on your opening. Actually I don't, ’cause usually it's just my parents, my two besties and myself. But anyways. The gallery was just at the end of our street and so to warm up and pay one guy a polite visit and the other guy an investigative one, Maja and I headed there early. The first second it was okay. There were some polite ‘good evenings’ from all the right people and I was ready to leave, content, having paid a respectful enough compliment to the author of the art. I even ran into a man who wielded a brand new Canon Mark X and got into a proffie conversation with him. He invited me to bring my own card and we can go test drive it sometimes. Once again, that was a completely photographic invitation, zero flirtation involved. Do people really think I can’t invite someone over for coffee without wanting to strip them with my teeth?? That’s just the smiling talking! I’m just being hyper flirtations with costumers so they would buy my cards!! .. And also, I am so tired all the time, I THINK I have sex every day, I just can’t tell for sure. I may. There’s some evidence to that effect, I just only remember some restless sleeping, not much else. Can’t ask the General, because he’s already polishing his guns after I said I considered asking a guy out for friggin’ coffee at 8 am in a public place. That man has the jealousy threshold of a nuclear reactor. Anyhoo. On to the gory stuff. The minutes were passing fine, very pleasant and I wasn’t about to pass out from fatigue at all!, thawing gently, lungs expanding again, when my nasal capillaries were so shocked we were actually in a room that wasn’t minus 8, they exploded. I started bleeding like a struck pig and continued to do that until we left again and stood outside in the winter night for a quarter hour. Maja continued to supply kiddy hankies and I continued to stuff them up my snout, tasting blood in my teeth. Ick. Not sexy, by any standards. We missed the movie we were going to see to begin with, so we roused one another with the prospect of an Interspar salad, something we both like. Ahh… That was romantic. A mall cafeteria, cleaning ladies closing it and two dead tired besties slowly, silently chewing on raw veggies :D It was divine. There was some pain involved, because I am physically able to shed only some of my layers in a crowded shopping building and the rest boil me up until my feet ached from heat, but okay. At that point I was beyond caring that outside I look pale blue and indoors I look bright cooked purple, with bloody crust in my nose and blood under my fingernails. I wiped my snout so many times these days it’s half the size anyways. We made another round for kids slippers for her little ones and then sat down for a few minutes to have some dessert. I had ‘Threehead’, named after a God in our old folklore or the mountain named after him, a small but increasingly delicious sweet with an odd thin crust over it, soft foamy cheese structure and blueberries or some such inside. It was perfect, except for the fact that by then, I was almost asleep. Stupid happy, very glad I was out and enjoying the company immensely, just… zombified. Every debate had to be carefully started, because I kept losing thread mid sentence :D Mostly I was just smiling like a fat, fed happy baby. It wasn’t even ten when Maja drove me home, and I tumbled up the stairs and into my nice, chilly home. I left the butter outside this morning, which wasn’t wise – I like my butter a bit soft, so you can actually smear it, so I keep the fridge on only one dash, but left on the counter it was rock hard and I need to put it back overnight to thaw it. On that note, the building is almost finished, so they took off the blinds and I no longer feel like I exist in a very cold, pitch black cave. General was bearishly sleeping, so I crawled into the nest, an ice cube that I was, kissed and passed out while he neatly tucked the blankies all around me..

I am smiling way too much lately. This will surely backfire; I will exhaust all my good will and feel miserable for a decade, but at this moment, I am in a ridiculously good mood (considering). I say considering, because the selling is slow, the weather is stupid cold and some people that pass by are mental patients by even the most generous of standards ... I won't even go into the music. No wonder there are so many suicides during holidays. This is a trial. And still I feel all shiny. Could be my neighbouring huttie, who always seems to be perky and radiant (and this draws more customers in) or it could be, from time to time, that my face has frozen and I can't get it  unstuck from the permafrost grin mode. Could be. Few days ago I saw a man pass by, who normally gives me very provocative, very daring looks, often enough for me to blush and look down. It's just this thing we do; we never talk, we just acknowledge each other in passing. This time he was looking down, regretful. No idea why, but that completely threw me. The universe came unhinged. That has to be fixed. That's possibly another reason why I'm doing it. Smilling like a silly person. Getting coffee, I gave the warmest of all helloes anyone has ever given to anyone to a man I recognised a second too late to realise I've just goomorninged my former a father-in-law (a man who never had a good thing to say to or about me. ) But he didn't recognise me either, so, upon reflex, he goodmorninged me right back.

           This smiling shit is serious. I feel safer playing with matches than warm seasonal greeting thrown all around..

The Good Wife and otherwise updates

Another sizzling great episode of the Good Wife (you gotsta be invested into te whole Will-Alicia war of roses to get the full impact, but for those that are not up to date, there's always my beloved John Noble flashing through encore. In his original accent, no less! And also Nathan Lane, he is the best.)

Boy, oh, boy, I have like five posts standing by since the start of the fair and no time (not to mention NO PICKIES! to show for!) No time, because I actually work 9 hours a day now, in sub zero temperatures and knit like the devil was naked, and no pickies because I have very little opportunity to collect and put off my gear and wound rather not keep a whole bag of camera equipment in - 2°C  environment for five hours. The weather may pick up in Saturday, so perhaps then. Though my hut is adorable :D (Now.)

Here's some of the notes from three days ago...

Aww, the first day of fair... I feel like an old school field reporter, typing the piece in situ while the chitter chatter is happening around... Well, it's three thirty PM on a Saturday November and the rain is starting to play a number .. But there's actually a few people around. Better yet, it wasn't much, but I actually sold a couple of cards already. 

       The morning was delightfully busy. I carried four rounds of heavy lifting down the longest street in town, pass a whole truck full of trapist cheese loafs and a whole lot of people setting up their little stands offering socks made in Taiwan and jewelry made by the blind. On my left is a lovely babe with short hair (why is that such a turn on lately? Short black hair and dark brown eyes and I am all interested in what they have to say.. Since when am I the looks person?) with semi precious stones and on my right ... I actually have no idea, because they made no effort to notice me. All in all, there isn't much here yet to chose from, but one stand is selling very interesting over-skirts and leg warmers and right in my eyeful is the stand with hot chips. Ogling will have to do for today, I remain on a steady diet of chocolate and tea. I lasted for four and a half hours before peeing, then had to cave in and that was of course the exact minute General came to visit me, returning from his classes. We set up the pottery impro stove, even though right now the only thing I'm cold in is the feet. Feet you just can't keep warm when not moving. There's no socks to help you there. I wonder if the Uggies work in these conditions. Also, I kind of miss my pets. 

        Hard to describe how I set everything up. There will be pickies, promises!  :)) I felt as if I was in a hurry, so there was a bit of nervousness. But I locked myself into the hut and dressed the walls in nicer colours, then hung the drawings and then wound a yarn thrice around the hut to make for a sort of washing line. I used cute pastel pegs to hang the cards. In one corner there's my best painting - the uncanny fisherboy- and in the other books with my rag doll on top. Now, transformed, the hut is actually quite inviting. I can totally see myself spending a month here. But ask me again in a week's time.. I'm wearing make- up to accentuate my smiles and I smile a lot. This is me practising customer relations. I've had to turn down a marriage proposal and another gentleman mistook me for Drej. Which is a kind of a compliment and I am always happy to be mistaken for lovely ladies. 

    Not at all dreadful for the first day. The iPad has a clock, so now I'll continue to count down the minutes, as earlier I was without a watch and time just flew. Hm.. Someone (when they were cleaning, I suppose) threw out my fruit crates.. I was gonna use them for a nice hanging spot for the drawings. Not sure that'll be necessary anymore. And Maja R. posted various artists performing Hallelujah and suddenly I am back in Startracker again, it's winter and the General is spying on me from afar - just obvious enough to make the game compelling..

 

Hah! Hah! And this just made my whole day :D

Lego Azog! 

 

Poor Gundabad boys. You just can't take them seriously.