(no subject)

You can harangue me if you want, I don't really care.

I thought Amores Perros was overlong, frequently dull, and then surprisingly moving. It was... it was a film that would make an excellent film studies class. I liked the central conceit, but I thought it could have been done better.

My problem mostly lies in the fact that I could see what was being done. Very obvious parallels, visual comparisons, that sort of thing. To me, story is first. Possibly because I'm so bad at it and try to disguise that with writing tricks and good characterisation. I have nothing against appreciating things for the aesthetics, I have nothing against experimentation. I just think that if I can see the tricks, there's something going wrong. Spoils it.

Like stage magic.

*shrugs*

This probably says more about me than it doesn't. Like: I've never done a media studies class. Like: I gave up English Literature because it was spoiling the stories for me. (And damn, did I regret that). Like: I'm not as bright as I perhaps should be, as academically inclined as I'd like to be, as deep as it's admirable to be.

No, I don't really have a comment on that.

I'm going to bed.

Oh, and...

My imaginary penis is called Invisibo.

(no subject)

I'm kind of amused.

I've never really posted any sorts of opinions of anything on my journal because I'm scared of looking stupid or not explaining myself well enough or getting yelled at. And now I am starting to (albeit couched in careful terms and not inflammatory in any way) and these are the posts on which nobody comments. What are you here for? Should I be writing more?

This is not supposed to be beratey. I'm just wondering.


My brain space is screwed currently. All of my dreams (now I have worked out a common thread) are about watching. Not participating in anything, just standing back and watching things happen. Someone getting beaten to death, someone freezing to death, someone getting verbally flayed, people deliberately infecting others with illness.

I'm not much for dream interpretation but it's kind of repeatedly smacking me in the face, here. Only I'm not sure what to take from it. Am I subconsciously berating myself for being a bystander and sitting on the fence so often? Am I worried about moving away and having less time and not being able to participate in various fandom/lj stuff any more? (Yes.)


As is, perhaps, obvious, I'm on a serious downswing at the moment. It's odd though because usually on downswings I am panicky and over emotional and it feels like the worst thing on earth. Like I can't cope and everything will be wrong forever.

This time I'm just sort of accepting things. Yes, this thing is crap, but that is the way that such things are. Shrug. Move on.

I don't want to shrug and move on. I want to deal with things. It's just so much easier not to.


Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm really self absorbed and bloody boring right now. However, if you've been around my journal for any length of time, you will know that I fluctuate madly and in a few days I'll be bouncing madly about the mating habits of gerbils. Or something.

And I nearly said 'journals' there. Hunh.

Which journal would you slash my journal with, huh? I wonder how my journal is in bed?

I suspect it talks too much.

(no subject)

One of my coworkers (a nice one, shock horror) said "God, woman, where did the tits suddenly come from? You'll put someone's eye out with those!"

*smug*

Also I feel ill. But I don't care, because I have an interview for the job I want next week. And I am not nervous because I believe that not only can I do it, I can do it well.




It's kinda wrong and immoral to be this fascinated with my own cleavage, right?

(no subject)

unravels? silveraspen?

I salute you.

(no subject)

I am a whore for this meme.

Ask me any question and I'll answer it - it doesn't matter how personal, political, sexual, controversial, rude or ridiculous it is. You can also ask me something obvious that you don't know or have forgotten (what's your age, what's your job/what are you studying, etc).

Anon is fine.

I think I talk too much for this meme ever to be successful, of course. I mean, what don't you know?