Time flies

I just got an email from Mercy, my Zambian housemate - she was both my housemate in Zambia, and actually Zambian, which was a little rare for the school where I was working - most of the Zambian staff were married and lived with their families, most of the young, single staff were European and American volunteers.

Mercy is amazing, and meeting her was probably the best part of the whole six months. Because of visa complications, I was the only gap year student there (the others arrived four months later), so despite being a few years older than me she immediately became my closest friend on the site. When the other gappies arrived they were placed in a house together, so I think their experience was probably very different - Mercy showed me Zambian culture from the inside, made me Zambian food every day, tried to teach me some of her language, let me see the Western world from her point of view, and even took me back to her family's home in the capital to spend Christmas there. I miss her very much.

Anyway, this email made me feel very old. How is it three years since I first met her? I guess a lot has happened since then, though I don't always feel like it. She had just got engaged when I met her, got married shortly ater I left, and now her baby daughter is walking! Really hope I can meet her little girl one day. Plus she was emailing to wish me a happy 22nd birthday, which is on Friday. For some reason 22 seems like the first age to be 'properly adult', 21 almost seems like the learner year of adulthood, and 22 is the real thing.

And I still don't have a clue what I want to do with my future. If I want to do at masters at my uni I need to decide in the next two weeks. If I want to go to Japan I have about a month to make up my mind. If I want to do in a masters in Glasgow whilst living at home, I probably have about two months decision time. Why do they all want me to decide on my life plan a few weeks into my final year? The more they try and rush me the more I procrastinate :-s

I should blog earlier

So I can do early videos . . . occasionally. Early waking is a bit hit-and-miss, more like every other day at the moment. Perhaps I should write my blog earlier in the day too. That way I wouldn't have reached the falling-asleep-on-the-keyboard stage by the time I'm wanting to do my previously-nightly update. At the moment it's 20.18 and I'm at least capable of writing in comprehensible sentences. ish.

So, this week hasn't been very interesting so far. Some more Kennedy-related stuff has been viewed. I finally finished that 'Dark Side of Camelot' book. The built-in cupboard has been cleared, only to be filled again because I have nowhere else to put my uni things. My bedroom is beginning to resemble the trenches of 1914 - there are now so many boxes that I can barely make it from my bed to the door. Strictly Come Dancing fever has replaced Derren Brown fever, and evenings are spent watching the rumba rehearsals on 'It Takes Two', instead of slowed down footage of a dapper illusionist. Not that DB is entirely out of favour, despite failing to stick me and the sister to the sofa, but Strictly never fails to become at least an incy bit addictive . . . even when old favourites are replaced, the celebs are unheard of, and a certain presenter really needs to retire Oh BBC, you do make me worry. Attempts to please everyone at once always lead to an inability to please anyone at all.

I'm re-reading John Green's 'Paper Towns'. Another book that I'd forgotten how much I like. For some reason it's put me in a nostalgic mood all day, despite being about as far removed from my own life experiences as you can imagine. A strangely beautiful book anyways.

The long day

So today was several hours longer than most other days. As in I set my alarm for 7am, rolled out of bed at 7.15, and was breakfasting and videoing by 7.45. So stuff actually got done today. Woop. A hundred pages of course-related book, three hours of course-related dvd.
The room didn't get any more packed this weekend. But this early-bird lark could majorly help with that this week.

Hmmm . . . currently watching a CSI Vegas episode I've never seen before. That, for me, is pretty rare. I don't think I could have possibly all 200+ episodes, I think channel5 must just show the same forty or so again and again . . .

Goodness, waking up early leaves you tired *yaaaaaaawn* I'll probably head to bed once I've found out whodunnit. Me, in bed before 1am??? The bodyclock must be adjusting already.

The early bird catches the worm

Not that I have any flying abilities to speak of, or have any desire to catch worms. But I've had this crazy, Wheezy Waiter inspired plan to get up at 7am this week, eat a decent breakfast for once, sometimes video, and generally find that there are more hours in the day. It will be a minor miracle if this works out, especially as it is currently 1.42 am and I am still online. Which is perfectly normal for me, but not ideal if I am planning on being awake again in just over five hours time.

This is a necessary endeavour though, especially as the uni term is fast approaching, and I still have a lot to do. Today was generally spent procrastinating . . . all I can tell you of interest about today is that videos are more quickly made when someone else is in the room, and that Strictly Come Dancing isn't that great so far, but Chris Hollins is better than expected. So there you go.

Now to grab however many winks can be had in five hours.

My mum is a search-engine whizzkid

Ignore the majority of the previous post. My mum managed to find the film to view online within ten minutes of switching on her computer :-s And my mum doesn't even understand the internet :) Well, I am officially an idiot, and my mum is wonderful. Especially as she saved me a whole load of money. I watched the movie as soon as she found it - I had this paranoia that someone would remove it before I got the chance . . .it's pretty good as these movies go. The men are handsome, the music is dramatic, it has a few comedic touches, and the battles, whilst going on a bit, look realistic. The whole thing bares little resemblance to what actually happened, but that would be asking too much :)

For the rest of the time today i packed my room. Hurrah. It looks messier than it has done in years right now.

Last night I had a very strange dream where my middle-aged, strict former English teacher married Peter Serafinowicz, and they were moving in with us . . . and I spent more time distressed that I would have to give up my room, than taking the time to question this incredibly weird pairing. Wonder what on earth sparked that craziness?
I did watch a fair bit of Serafinowicz tonight on YT as a result. The diet plan and kitchen gun sketches remain some of the funniest inventions of British comedy :)

Right, to sleep, and hopefully will conquer the rest of that Kennedy book tomorrow. Or within next couple of days anway.
Ooooooh, Derren Brown is trying to stick us to our sofas tomorrow night. Literally :D

Kennedy related despair

I was halfway through a vaguely ok blog post when the blogger made the window disappear. I hate it when it does that.

I'm too tired to type it all out again :-s To sum it up, I've spent most of the evening looking for some way of watching PT109 without having to pay £50 for the one and only video of it on Amazon. No video of it on Youtube or other such sites, no dvd release, seemingly no other VHS that isn't American region, and only one place to download it from (and though I don't fully understand the legal and virus implications, I'm too paranoid to go for that option). I'm still not full convinced that the £50 copy is UK region. It better be.

The original post attempted to be far more more insightful than that. Ponderings on how unusual it is to find anything that can't be bought or viewed with the click of a button these days. But the silly blogger ate that version, and now I must sleep. Zzzzzzzzz.

Finish it

I just watched The Fountain, showing for the first time on British digital tv. The day and the hour that they chose to show this film reflects that it was a bit of a flop - it cost a lot to make, the actors and director involved generated a lot of hype, and then the majority of the reviews were average to negative. Not all of them. This was one of the rare occasions where film critics were really divided - a few thought it was a brave attempt at something different, or that it was well directed. The dude from the Radio Times gave it five stars, which is why I gave it a go tonight, but he's made a career of saying the complete opposite to everyone else. It was genuinally seen as a misguided, flawed and overambitious mess. Crucially, the words 'pretentious' and 'self-indulgent' were used in early reviews, and appearing snobby is one thing that many reviewers of today fall over themselves to avoid, so it was beaten into box office oblivion, almost as if they were afraid of it.

I suppose I'm saying this to remind myself that I shouldn't always go along with what the critics say. I'm far too easily influenced by what is fashionable with my favourite writers, whether it be in book and film taste, or in political views. Often I bluff my way through life trying to sound far more intelligent and well-read than I really am by copying the opinions of people I think are more clever (or, to my shame, more popular) than me.

So, The Fountain is a great film. Yes, it is very different, it is more like three movies in one, with the relationship between the three parts not clear cut (present, future and story? But more than that, as they bleed into each other at unexpected moments). But it's not pretentious, or over-ambitious. If anything the unusual struture if one of the clearest ways of capturing experiences such as grief, the moments before death, and love, where a linear tale doesn't seem sufficient. I can't remember who said it, but it's true that our minds don't work that way, they're constantly flicking back and forth - present, past, a dozen different daydreams, stories and possibilities. Why should books and films be any different? Why must movies be expected to 'make sense', with a beginning, a middle, and an end that nicely ties everything up? Life rarely works in that way. Rachel Weisz and Hugh Jackman were really, really good, and it was visually stunning. Sometimes I don't understand critics.