The Word "Temporary" Doesn't Make It Any Easier

I don't think I'll ever be good at saying goodbye. But is anyone ever really "good" at something like that?

This pretty much sums up the last 5 days, which have been the best I've had since August:



I'm holding my breath until February.

I Wrote This While Listening To Aimee Mann

I saw the new Bond film last night, and thought it was top-notch and solid. So what if it was Casino Royale Part Deux? Highly enjoyable, quite sophisticated, and yes, I did have a little trouble swallowing/breathing/functioning properly when Bond (aka Daniel Craig) opened the hotel room door without a shirt on. But I could say the same thing about every single instance of parallel editing, so I guess that shows where I really stand.

Yep.

In other news: in less than 48 hours, I will be happy again.

The Election Outcome, But Also My Life

I need to believe things are going to get better, otherwise what else do I have?

Shut Up, Brain

You are no good to me with your negativity.

There is no more room in my life for what-ifs.

My Grand Idea

I'm thinking I will hibernate until November 25th. How does that sound?

If You Want To Know How Much of A Geek I Am, Read The Following

Watched Manhattan earlier. Finally.

Sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with me and why I haven't seen certain films yet.

A quick list:

1. Casablanca
2. Notorious (and almost all of Hitchcock's repetoire, really)
3. Rope (see #2)
4. too many Woody Allen films to name (this makes me a shit cinephile, I know)
5. Lawrence of Arabia
6. any Dreyer
7. any Bresson
8. The Third Man and Touch of Evil (no, seriously, I am a bad person...at least I've seen Citizen Kane)
9. Sunset Boulevard
10. The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep
11. The 400 Blows

I need to stop there, this is too depressing for words.

Guess I know what I'm doing over winter break. Besides working, of course.

Parapets

So...I haven't done this in a while. Not here anyway.

I drank a cup of vanilla tea at midnight so I could write a paper, but I finished writing the paper an hour ago and now I'm still awake. Funny how it works that way: I always crash when I need to work, and I always finish early when I've pumped myself full of caffeine.

Lately, I've been coming to terms with things. A lot of stuff's been going on, but I'm specifically thinking about my creativity, and how it all feels so shot, and maybe the best thing I can do for myself right now is to step back and narrow and stop trying to write poetry and stop trying to write fiction and just be okay with my "film all the time" plan. See how that goes. Because truthfully, the more I try to write and can't do it, the more frustrated I get, and so maybe me and writing need a trial separation. Maybe, if I do that, I'll miss it so much the need and desire and utter fucking want to do it again will smack me in the face like New York wind in February. (Okay, that simile was dumb, but I'm wired, so forgive me.)

This kid in my film class died. Malcolm talked about it today, and I felt nothing. I mean, it's shit, the kid was my age, but I don't know what to say. I didn't know him. Not really. I feel like being unhappy about it would be unproductive and undeserved.

Today, I thought about Dublin football and started crying. I'm kind of in a bad way.

So Much To Talk About, But Not Enough Space

Making bullet-pointed lists is really the only way to go at this stage.

So...since October 1st I:

-nearly had a nervous breakdown
-discovered I really do have the best shoulder to cry on, if only from a distance (you know who you are: thank you)
-started looking into therapy again
-baked a chicken pot pie for the first time (next up: chicken & mushroom, then steak & kidney..or maybe steak & ale? hmmm...)
-went to the gym a lot
-blogged at Sadie Lou a lot
-tried to be a stellar friend, even though I wasn't always feeling 100% myself
-did a few loads of laundry
-cleaned up my room quite a bit
-acquired a mini-fridge large enough to hold all my shopping, and then some
-started my conference work on Guy Maddin, who I'm a bit in love with
-re-subscribed to Netflix so I can procure lots of Guy Maddin films, as well as films for my independent study on the intersection between film & fiction
-thought about politics (both local and national) and cried
-played a lot of Scrabble to take my mind off things (and wound up getting 103 points on a single turn without using all seven of my letters! I suppose there's a first time for everything...)
-procrastinated a lot of my work/relearned how to read a lot of words in a very short amount of time
-finally watched Bande à part, which now makes me conclude the French New Wave was cinematically important, but also kind of boring
-became acutely aware of my film-viewing limitations (I don't like abstract films! sue me!)
-rang Ireland a lot
-tried to figure out ways I could make a lot of money by the end of the school year without resorting to prostitution or drug running
-had late-night tea and formed an anti-pretentious pretentious poetry society called The Joy Luck Club with some like-minded chums
-decided I am, for certain, moving to Ireland after I graduate

Oh, and in a bizarre turn of events, I also found myself an extra in a new movie starring Aidan Quinn. The man is a jokester, let me tell ya. And even though he's from my part of the country, he made me miss Dublin in this indescribable way. I think it was the eyes that did the trick.

There's so much more, but those are the essentials, I guess.

College Politics

I just want to scream until my lungs collapse.

More on this when I can muster the strength to put things into words.

The Busy Buzzy Bumblebee

I've suddenly found myself in such a state of constant movement, I don't know what to do. Sleep is difficult. I'm supposed to be resting my mind, but because I'm up and about and thinking at all other points, it's become outrageously hard to switch off. What to do about this? Nothing. Because when push comes to shove, this is all distracting me from the weight of the reminder of the things I am missing. The place I can't stop uttering the name of. The people at the forefront of my mind. The rain. The swans. The strawberry milk and the chicken and bacon sandwiches and the 1.50 euro tea and the Cadbury hot chocolate and the chips and garlic mayo at the IFI and the assaultive pizza at Apache and the pie. The fucking pie. One of these days, I'm going to make one of my own, like I've been planning on for weeks now, but it won't be the same. It won't bring me back to sitting on my bed and eating chicken and mushroom pies on plastic plates bordered by Super Noodles. It won't make the memory a reality, and that is why, above all, this constant movement is good.

I said this the other day, and I'm pretty sure it's true: I keep thinking things will get better, but it just feels like it's all getting worse. I'm grasping at whatever I can hold onto just to make it through the day, just to be able to focus, but it's not much, and it certainly isn't enough. I want impossible things to happen. I want time to jump. I want to be guaranteed certain things, like winding up where I'm meant to be. I want to breathe again. And not just metaphorically, but literally as well. Because I can't here. I'd forgotten just how polluted the air is.

My head is so heavy with yearning. It's like one big yawn of upset.

***

Today I:

-went to two meetings
-scheduled two more meetings
-had an interview to discuss my time abroad
-had an atrocious day of bowling (scored some gutterballs and a 57, my new highest low score)
-botched a batch of teriyaki rice, making it neither sticky nor soft
-had no time to go to the shop and purchase food I desperately need
-finally watched Water, which was sort of predictable, but also immensely devastating, not to mention gorgeous to look at
-did two loads of laundry, which I still need to fold
-sent lots of e-mails
-blogged for Sadie Lou

Tomorrow is expected to be just as busy. Hooray?