Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong

I lost count how many times I've edited this post. I've been ill.
Firstly, relationships. Let's get this one out of the way. This is some dialogue from The Squid And The Whale, a film which makes me feel pretty lucky to have married parents.

Sophie: [about The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka] Yeah. I mean, it's gross when he turns into the bug, but I love how matter of fact everything is.

Walt: Yeah, it's very Kafkaesque.

Sophie: [She looks at him oddly and laughs] 'Cause it's written by Franz Kafka.

Walt: Right. I mean, clearly.

I love this. I burst out laughing. Unfortunately, I'm sleeping with someone who just doesn't get jokes about literature. Another example in a recent episode of Shameless, which he made me watch (it's actually alright), two of the chav teenagers get kidnapped by a drug dealer crazy woman, and she makes a little joke, "Sorry for going all Papa Fritzl on you." which I, of course, being the media-savvy evil bastard that I am, found this pretty funny too. He laughed when a character tripped up in a later scene. What the hell am I doing? I don't want to sound like an arrogant prick. Because, I do sound like an arrogant prick. I don't have anything in common with this guy. As I sort of outlined in a previous post, I want someone who is fucking intelligent. O, Carlisle.

I'm sounded very elitist and superior and that. Ah well. Need to learn to say no, sometimes.

Secondly, crying. I have never cried for this guy. I have for John, Jonny, and even Chris. But this guy, none of that. I just want rid of him. He makes me happy, yes, but I get bored. I should stay single until uni. He won't read this, but he deserves to. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just not right. Wait. I was meant to be writing about crying. Crying. I cried at House Of Sand And Fog last night. It was very, very upsetting. I'm not sure where the love of depressing films comes from. Watching something that you know will upset you being ultimately rewarding? I don't get it. I did really, really enjoy it though. Odd. Nothing much happens in the film. Then, suicide, prison and depression. Works a charm.

I'm still on crying, here: I think the last time I posted was on a Sunday. The following day, I bumped into Chris, the plain boring dude I'd been with for over a year. This was August 2008 to October 2009, on and off. I'm still not over him. I have no idea why. There are literally no good things about this guy. He's just so meh. We arranged to meet up on the Tuesday of that week. I'd convinced myself we'd be getting back together. He stood me up. I was slightly devastated. I have since realised that I was being a complete fool, so that's all fine. Around 7PM on the day he'd stood me up, it slowly dawned on me that I was being stood up. I had Sigur Rós on the iPod, Viðrar vel til loftárása (just found out this means "Good weather for an airstrike" in Icelandic) (and the video is pretty amazing) and I was going to make myself a cup of tea to cheer up. As I was standing up from this horrible desk, I went to grab my phone without thinking. When I realised how pathetic I was being, I burst out crying. It feels good. I've also cried at two Phillip Reeve books (Infernal Devices and A Darkling Plain), the last episode of Battlestar Galactica, Monsters, Inc., Running With Scissors, Requiem For A Dream, Synecdoche, New York, and loads more I can't quite remember. I'm usually an emotional retard. Media gets to me, somehow.

Third. I'M TRYING TO MAKE MUSIC. But I usually fail. Even though I sometime get told my one song is alright. Myself and a friend, Jonny (not the same one I mentioned before), have pooled together some money and are buying a Korg Nanopad, a drum synth pad thing. It might work. So that's going slowly. We've done half a song, but we need a singer. Oh, and supposedly we're a noise band. Don't ask. A real drummer would be nice,  but from experience they're always fucking idiots who get in the way. Sorry for being mean, potential drummer, but you're probably annoying. So yeah, computers are the way to go.

Sorry for the absence. Twitter has killed this blog. I don't feel the need to write about things I can now usually sum up in a sentence. Which is wrong, of course. See ya.

We've got everything

I broke up with my boyfriend. Where I think Sigur Rós's Olsen Olsen flute solo is beautiful, he thought DJ Ironik's latest tune (complete with high-pitched synth voice on backing vocals) was the saddest, most emotion-filled song he'd ever heard.
So yeah, really not feeling that one. I let him down lightly. I feel no sadness, and for some reason am finding myself wanting the bastard ex back. You know the one I mean.

Jonny, a friend from Sixth Form, is starting a film project for his art course at uni, and of course has heard about my amazing acting prowess and asked me to be in it and also help with media type stuff. Sounds exciting. This said, we only have ten weeks to film what he hopes will be at least a forty-five minute feature. Ambitious, much? What helps is the premise: a mockumentary about a failed rock star. It has been done before, but he's got a ton of original ideas which should help. We're also going to record a couple of songs to act as a soundtrack. Lots of work, but sounds lovely.

Open the Floodgates

I live with my grandma. I've let you all know this before, right? My work's being especially harsh with hours, meaning basically I have none this week, again. Which leaves me a bit skint. So, she wants me to go to the job centre and get jobseeker's allowance. We went in the other day to ask about it, and you should have seen the state of the assorted dull-eyed chavs and their pregnant teenage girlfriends. I know that there are perfectly normal people who sign on for perfectly legitimate reasons, but seriously. These are the worst Carlisle has to offer (which, as you may have guessed, are pretty bad).

Did I mention I'm in the Crucible, at the Green Room? probably not. I should blog more. I'm playing Herrick, a character in the third and last acts who is pretty much just a drunk prison warden. I don't have an over-abundance of lines, but so many fucking stage directions. Oh, and I left my script in a pub after rehearsals last night, dammit. what was my point here?
oh! yeah! As the rehearsals are three nights a week, and then we do a full week's run at the end of this month, which doesn't really allow me to get a night-time bar job til April. And that's a shame, because it's all I'm good at.

Also, I need to find two monologues for an audition to Arden theatre in Manchester (look! my future!), one from Shakespeare and another from a post-1950s published play. I didn't quite read the last part properly, and started learning this from Mean Girls for a bit of a laugh.

I need to find a band too. Do I say I'm an indie bassist? indie seems to mean Coldplay and the Kings of Leon at the moment (they're terrible, by the way). alternative? alternative bassist? That doesn't sound right.

Don't bore us
Get in the chorus
Open the floodgates

We want the good bits
Without the bullshit
And no heartache

Hold on, hold on, hold on

No pain and
No suffering
And no one gets hurt

We absolve you
We absolve you
Open the floodgates

Hold on

Lotus Flower

I'm in love with this man. I find his voice and (Radiohead's) music the most beautiful stuff out there. How he can get so much emotion in his voice, and create powerful songs with simple guitar picking is a gift (do I sound weird?). I feel... lucky to have Radiohead.

Also, check out the zoom on that camera! I fucking love technology. That we can access music and share things and etc etc. You couldn't do this when I was a kid. And that was only like, 5 years ago.

Running With Scissors

Managed to watch it twice in under 24 hours. My dad doesn't get these sort of films. He has no appreciation for anything plot driven. There weren't any car chases or explosions, and that's where his interests lie. My mam on the other hand managed to get choked up and cry-y in all the right places. I was pretty impressed. I don't really want to draw up on the parallels between the characters in the film and myself and my mother, but "drug filled crazy woman has gay son" rings a few bells.

Tomorrow is Synecdoche, New York night. Hope for the best.

This blog's gonna get me in trouble

I love writing. If I had a tablet, or a scanner, I would hand write entries. There is nothing more beautiful than handwriting. Not my handwriting. Anyone's handwriting. Handwritten letters and poems are the best.

So, I've just watched Running With Scissors. It's quite similar to Synecdoche, New York, in terms of plot and structure. Not that either of these films really have a plot or structure, but the abundance of emotion and actual talented acting in both these films is overwhelming. Films seem to be the only things nowadays that make me cry. I guess I get sucked in by fiction. I've cried at books before, of course. I need to start reading again. If anyone knows of any other films in a similar vein to Running With Scissors and Synecdoche, New York, let me know. Hopefully one day I'll be involved in the creative processes of something similar. I need to start writing again. What the hell am I thinking with Lego? I'm thinking I might be able to create something trendy for my limited portfolio. I found a USB webcam today, even though the quality will be worse, at least it'll be more flexible than a lens attached to my screen.

So yeah, I'm feeling inspired. And I know it's almost 6AM here, and I'm up in a couple of hours, but it seems worth it. I'm having a good time with films at the moment. I watched Grave of the Fireflies this morning when I woke up. My initial reaction was "this is slow, this is boring". After it'd set in, I've realised it's beautiful. I like that word at the moment, notice? I'm hopefully showing my parents Synecdoche tomorrow, but I know, I KNOW then won't like it. They won't understand why I like it. They won't see what I see in it. But I don't care. They might like it. And it's worth a try, right?

Grace, thank you for getting me to watch Running With Scissors, finally. I keep getting inspired. That's good. Thanks everyone.

Opening scene?

Here's the opening scene, I guess. It'll be redone if I get a new camera. I'm appalled at how bad it all is. I spent over an hour on this as well. Oh, and I won't be able to film anything once I get back to the UK, as the Lego is all my brother's.

Basically, Mr Ginger Fringe Mob Boss is, for some reason, in charge, and has our hero captive. Over the course of the 8 second scene, he gets his lackey to shoot our hero in the face, then it goes black. I forgot to change the frame rate again, which is why it all goes mega fast.

So many technical issues, you have NO idea. Had to use an old DVD player and loads of VHS cases to prop the Lego set up in front of the webcam as it's inbuilt into my laptop. Then there's lighting. The only available light is a lamp that's way too bright and yellow. Which is why everything goes blue towards the end. Hard to believe that tiny video has 93 frames, right?