A Few Disappointments

Christmas morning was great... and Christmas dinner turned out better than I could have expected. The food all turned out well, and making the casseroles the day before turned the whole cooking experience into a relaxed sort of dance. I even managed to play a few Christmas carols on the piano at one point. When does THAT happen?

But then the day turned not so wonderful. We went to see Les Miserables, and the hubby and I were both itching to be impressed. The film did not fulfill my expectations. I can't claim to be devastated, but the director was so fixated on facial expression that he filmed nearly everything in tight shots centered on each actor's face--to the detriment of any cinematography that might illuminate gesture, setting, etc. And his methods for filming meant actors could act--though Russell Crowe decided not to--but only a handful of them actually sang well, and I don't count Hugh Jackman among them. His voice was reedy and annoying, and his rendition of "Bring Him Home" made me positively cringe. Anne Hathaway was absolutely brilliant--truly--and many of the young students and both little kids could also sing--but otherwise the music was gritty and unlovely.

That was not the lowest point of the day, though. My little boy writhed through much of the film, complaining of a stomach ache... which wasn't fake, since the hubby ended up running out of the theatre with him so that he could heave up everything he'd eaten that day. I should have taken care of him, too, considering that I wasn't enjoying the film and I think the hubby was far less exacting than I and had been, up to that point, having a fantastic time.

We made a few hurling stops on the way home, and then my son fell asleep, emptied at last. I watched him overnight, to make sure I was there in case any last bit decided to come up on its own. Nothing did, and this morning he seems okay.

I just hope the hubby finds a time to go back to the movie and see it again--without anything to hinder his enjoyment of the film. Including me. Except for my criticisms here, I don't intend to say a single negative thing about the film to him--especially if he loves it. But I do not want to see it again.

Fun Stuff to do This Friday

Why does Friday seem to be the only day I have time to post?

And why am I up at 3:30 a.m. when I could sleep until 6:30 for once?

Yes, I've gotten myself a bit overwhelmed now, and it's taking its toll. Honestly, most of my stress comes from not having control over my environment. Sure, I can get most of my own work done--the important stuff, anyway--but I spent last night trying to attend to job as art gallery director WHILE also making sure my kids finish their homework, check up on my house when the burglar alarm went off (I think one of the door sensors isn't properly working), and juggle countless other things. Needless to say, I was not the best art gallery director last night. Very distracted.

I am convinced that distractions lead to stress--and too much of it. Multitasking is hard, and the last few weeks I've greeted Friday with a sigh, ready to take a break somewhere in my schedule, just so that I can breathe.

I figure by now that most of you are ready for a break, too. And that break is NOT made up of doing laundry all Saturday, re-grouting the shower (my weekend project), sweeping, taking out the trash, cleaning toilets, grocery shopping, or any of those lovely tasks. Don't kid yourselves. Those are not breaks.

So, what can one do when one needs a break? My first goal is NOT to run straight to food. That never makes me feel better, and it's far more likely to make me feel worse. But I have other things that work better.

First, we have the relaxing things that cost money, but they may just be worth it, especially if one's week has been really awful.

--Get a massage. Sure, an hour-long one will cost $60-$80, but try half an hour, and you'll get most of the same benefits.
--Go to a chiropractor. All that stress (or lots of sitting, bending over computers/papers/children) has likely thrown your back out of whack, and many forms of insurance pay for this.
--Go to a show. Live theatre's great, but movies work, too, as do concerts, orchestras, choirs, whatever. Go to a piano concert, and you might even work in a good nap.

What's this you say? You're broke? No problem! For every one thing that costs money, I have a ton of things that are free:

--Get a movie from the library. You won't believe the selection, even in a small-town library like mine. And it isn't just Schoolhouse Rock, either, although that stuff is very entertaining. If you can afford a buck more, go to Redbox.
--Go for a walk. You might want to time it when the sun isn't too hot (or skin damaging), but a walk by yourself can be a true boost. Just don't take your kids with you. Or at least don't take my kids with you.
--Play piano. Sure, it won't beat a piano concert, but it's still relaxing. If you don't have a piano--or any other instrument--just listen to music. Avoid the AC/DC for once, though. Relaxing is better.
--Read a book. Again, the library is your best bet. You can even download stuff on your Kindle, if you can figure out how.
--Make your house quiet. Give the kids something to do on their own for an hour, and shut off the TV, radio, phone, dishwasher. No wait, keep the dishwasher, and just lean your ear against it. Sounds just like you're back inside good ol' mom... comfy... warm... see, you're relaxing already.

If none of this strikes your fancy, don't stop trying. And don't put relaxing on the bottom of your list, or you won't ever get to it. And then you'll have no choice but to see a chiropractor. And he'll take one look at your spine and break out crying in pity. And he'll tell you it's too late--your bones are fused. Too much stress for too long. No breaks.

And you don't want that, do you?

So get out there and relax! And report back. I'm always looking for more ideas.

In Praise of ANONYMOUS

Finally, after so many months of waiting (why, exactly?) I have seen ANONYMOUS, a story I had considered writing in play form for many, many years (and never did). The reviews were pretty scathing. Imagine, a load of idiots buying the idea that someone else wrote Shakespeare's plays enough to actually make a movie about it. Preposterous! And it was a crappy movie, wasn't it? Didn't everyone agree.

As with far too much in this world, the huge numbers of people who provide majority opinion do not prove such as fact merely by their huge numbers. And all Shakespearean scholars and actors do not agree, either. But that is beside the point. I've known several films that I loved terribly (or utterly despised) that the masses viewed differently. This film, it seems, was no exception.

Screenshot: anonymous-movie.com/

Was it the most brilliant movie ever made? Nope. Would everyone love it? Not a chance. But it was a film intended for me as surely as I'm a fan of Shake-speare's writings. It reminded me of why I write, why I LOVE writing, why I love theatre, why I'm more of a playwright than a novelist or poet, and what I feel about the power of words. I write plays--and I love theatre--because of the direct effect I witness between not only the words of the play and the actors performing it, but I love seeing the immediacy of response in the audience.

Theatre changes people. In a few hours--or a single scene, or a single moment within a single scene--audiences transform their thoughts, their feelings, their own sense of self and of the world. It is writing in its most immediately witnessed reader response, and the only sensation I have ever felt as close to watching my own plays performed to an audience is the birth of my two children.

If you are one of the literati, if you find words mightier than the sword, if you wish reason and thought and compassion to conquer the prejudice and malice in any age, this movie is for you. And if you love theatre, or Shakespeare's plays, or good costumes, or good acting, you'll like this too.

If you are determined to go to your grave believing that the Shakspere of Stratford wrote the plays, disregarding the wealth of evidence to the contrary, you'll hate this movie. And serves you right.

I love it--love it! I feel like buying a million copies of it and handing it out at Shakespeare conferences, setting up viewings of it to all sixth graders, getting to them before the brainwashing occurs when they reach Romeo and Juliet. Does the film portray the most likely, most accurate history? Nope. But it captures the truth of what I believe as fully as anything I've ever seen, and I will be watching it again the next moment I have free.

Watch it. Really. And if you love it, tell me about it. And if you hate it, well, you might just change your opinion of me. Not that I'll care at that point. I'll be too busy watching ANONYMOUS again.

Anonymous

In case you also check out my Not Writing blog, this post is in both places. I thought I'd just write it in one, but my thoughts shoved the poem I had in my head out, so this is all I can think about:

I was slapped in the face this morning. Not literally, but I'm stinging from it just the same.

And it's all my fault. And it's all because I haven't been writing.

For YEARS, ever since I took freshman composition, I've been in love with the idea of writing a play about Edward de Vere, seventeenth Earl of Oxford, whom I suspect wrote Shakespeare's plays. But over the past many years (too many to mention, believe me), I didn't write. I have tons of research for it, a huge collection of books on it, and I'd even made an outline of the major events so that I could someday write it.

Only now I don't have to. The movie is coming out in October, and it's calledAnonymous. I've missed my opportunity.

Fiction writing is one thing--sure, J.K. Rowling has made the one and only Harry Potter, and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings only happens once, but other fantastic characters can still lead beautiful lives on paper. I noticed, too, that yet ANOTHER production of The Three Musketeers is coming out. (How many versions are we going to get? The book is better than any of them.)

But Oxford's story should only happen once. I just hope it's done beautifully, that it is better than I can wish for, that people can see the irony, the tragedy, the poetry of the whole situation. Either way, whether it sucks or holds audiences spellbound, it's too late for me to write it. I've missed that chance because I haven't written it. Hell, I am probably still a decade away from having the skill to write it.

I love the story, though, so I will go to see it in October, hoping it's brilliant, but still feeling a bit compressed because I will never write it.

Jasper, Jasper, Jasper!

Note: This is not a spoiler alert. I will not reveal anything you didn't already know about the Twilight: Eclipse film.

Yes, I made it to the midnight showing. Yes, I stood in line three hours before it happened, ticket in hand, Edward shirt on body, with a crowd hyped up like they were going to a concert. Yes, I was one of the oldest people in line. Yes, people screamed when the show started, and many other times, too. The only difference was that my ticket was only $10, not the high dollar stuff of concerts.

While I took my fold-up chair to the car, another car stopped near me, and the driver, and older man, asked, "Why are all those people crowding up there?"

I told him it was for Twilight.

"Really? I don't know anything about the Twilight thing."

"You don't need to," I told him. "The movies weren't meant for you. You wouldn't understand." I tell that to a lot of men, actually. And some women, too.

The film was good. Not great, but I didn't expect it to be. Honestly, I waited months to read the fourth book because I had been disappointed in the third, so the movie being just okay was no surprise to me. I'm not a Jacobean, and the resemblance between the film Jacob and the boy I babysat all last year reinforces my adherence to Edward. Naturally, all of the shirtless shots of Jacob didn't do a lot for me (though they really excited quite a few others in the theatre).

I only have two beefs with the experience. One was the ring that floated around through the second half of the movie--this all-important ring that was so highly significant--and it was truly fugly. It may be one of the fugliest rings I've ever seen. (If you don't know what fugly is, think about it a bit more).

Most of all, though, I was disappointed in the title character of my blog post: Jasper. You see, in movie one, he actually vied with Edward on the hotness quotient. In the second film, his hair stunk, and he just looked weird. He looked better in this, but as we walked into the theatre, I told my friend, "I sure hope they fix Jasper's hair in this movie." And they didn't. It didn't look so much like a wig as in #2, but it still wasn't hot. Very disappointing.

So there you have it, a movie review that reveals nothing truly important about the movie at all. How you like them apples?

On a happy note, I am literally a couple hours from finishing all of the big tasks this week. Yes, my week's to-do list is almost done, and I will also manage to fit in many of the extra tasks in, too. Now I'm off to start laundry and weed the garden!

Hangin' with Harry

I am DONE grading! (Except for a few late papers and some wads of journals, of course). I spent the last three nights staying up late and getting up early, and now my kids and I are chilling in front of the big screen, watching all the Harry Potter movies up to #6.

Okay, so I'm also blogging. But I've been dying to blog all this time... and I had to force myself to keep marking with my little blue pen, keep circling verbs, keep marking works cited pages.

Not. Fun.

I'm considering shifting my grading in ENG 102 next semester to the method I use in ENG 101. I approach it from a publishing perspective. Instead of assigning the student a grade, I assess whether the paper is at an A-/B+ level. If it isn't, I give it back with comments, and the student has to revise it. Three chances to get it there, and if they don't they're out. You see, I hate D's and F's. I don't like assigning a grade to something that really doesn't deserve to go on. I want my students to learn to revise, to correct, to see what kinds of mistakes they make and learn not to make them...

Why I'm blogging about that now, I have no idea. Perhaps I'm just too much in a rut.

No more writing. No more reading. I'm going back to the boob tube, watching my favorite series of films ever (for all their imperfections).

I can't wait for #7, parts one and two!

Monday Fun-Day!

I know how most of us approach Mondays. My husband moans and groans starting on Sunday afternoon, upset that his lazy weekend has to end and he has to face traffic, dress up, and spend the day in meetings or bossing people around (in gentle ways, of course). The temptation is to grimly face a whole week of working, knowing it will be DAYS before you get to wear those sweats all day. 

Why not approach this differently? Make a pact to go out to eat every Monday night, or take somebody to lunch at work, or carve out an hour in the afternoon to work on that novel/play/poem/painting/etc. The only watchable television is Monday Night Football, and that is only watchable for a specific viewing audience, so turn it off and play a game with the kids, or curl up to a good book you've been saving. 

I'm planning on doing absolutely NO real work today. I'm saving the class grading tasks for tomorrow (several script analyses, and discussion grades for the entire semester), and except for doing the dishes (only because I have no clean spoons), I don't intend to lift a finger I don't want to. No wrapping trash, no cat box cleaning (sorry, Skooker), no work. I might spend the morning watching the three remaining episodes of BBC's "Robin Hood" (insert drooling here), or reading, or finishing up my novel revising, or whatever. 

And don't tell me, "Well, some of us have to go to work." Yes, you do, but that doesn't mean you have to do much when you are there, or do it with a lousy attitude. And whatever you do, make it fun. Laugh. Be lazy. Or if being lazy brings you down, work super hard, cross everything off your list, and then leave an hour early so that you can pick up a few videos on the way home. (Videos? On a Monday? Are you kidding? No, I'm not!)

Don't accept your Monday as it is. Make it into something you actually want to do. Become your own Pollyanna, and make your Monday great enough that you look forward to the next one.

Doing Homework

My children are on summer break. They still have nearly two months of it, too (even though my classes start nearly a month before their school begins). Yet right now, as I compose this entry, what are they doing? Homework.

You probably figured that out from the title. 

And what am I doing? Homework. I wrote on my list of things to do today "Write Blog," so here I am, writing it. Next I put away the clothes I washed and folded yesterday, and after that it's dishes. And then dinner. 

Sounds like drudgery. And it sort of is, but it does come with rewards. Tonight, after I finish dinner and tidy up the house, I pick up a babysitter and traipse off to the movies with the hubby. 

Guess what I'm going to see (again). Yes, I saw it last week, but I can't get enough Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (or any of the previous ones, either). And now that the hubby's reminded himself of everything from movie #5, he wants to go to #6 (and I obliged, because I'm just that magnificently wonderful a wife). 

And when I come back, the dishes will be done, the kids in bed, the house clean, the clothes put away, my blog written... nothing more to do but bask in the memories from a darkened movie theatre. 

Bliss. Heaven. Perhaps even a bit of the spiritual. My kind of evening.

Well worth the homework... and a load of dishes. What will you reward yourself with, once your homework is done?