Today I went with a friend to her church. I have always found religion fascinating and I wanted to know what it felt like to be there amongst people who truly believed. Well I can tell you it’s both odd and amazing. Odd because initially I felt like a fake, they were all singing and had this glow of happiness whilst I was standing trying to figure out what to do with my hands.
But it didn’t suck. The pastor, not a priest but a pastor performed this, I guess you’d call it a motivational speech and I was reminded of that moment in the Blues Brothers. Okay so do you know the bit when Jake gets the light shining on him as James Brown is singing his heart out and he realises he needs to help the nuns. Well I didn’t get a light shining down on me but something even more strange happened. I started to cry. Now you gotta understand I am not your typical crying person. I went to see Titanic and as Leo sunk to his watery grave did I even sigh, no I left the cinema mascara intact, well I would have if I were wearing some.
Why did I cry? The pastor was talking about letting stuff go and asked us whether we were fighting against being let down. Well he said it better than I can. I cried and god it was so embarrassing because all I was thinking was stop crying you idiot. Then I realised the pastor knew I was crying because he told everyone to close their eyes and then he said if there was anyone who needed some support, that they were feeling upset to open their eyes and give him a wave. I opened my bleary eyes to see him looking at me. The fact it was just me and him with our eyes open felt amazing. I could cry without anyone giving me a sympathetic look or worse wanting to hug me.
Don’t get me wrong this isn’t a declaration of conversion but I’ve never cried anywhere else like that before so I am going to see what it means.
An wave of rich and perfumed aromas fill my desk. If I close my eyes I can imagine that I am in some exotic and wondrous place, anywhere but here. The thing I hate about the flowers is the fact they are slowly dying there right in front of you. From their point of view it must be weird right? You are cut from your body and are beginning to wilt whilst these overgrown faces coo around you about how beautiful you are, how lovely you smell when actually it’s your death they are inhaling.
It doesn’t take long and the petals fall, the stems flop and then the bin beckons. It’s no wonder the flowers are hysterical, wouldn’t you be as you stand there in the water ready to be bought to be sniffed.
The oldest folk song about a whorehouse which was never in New Orleans. I have listened to so many covers of this one, still not sure which is my favourite. The one used in Sons of Anarchy has that rich grit that I always imagine the southern states are full of. The second has that lazy drug filled feel to it and if I were to film something in a whorehouse that is the one for me.
I know where every single key is on the board, if I was to go on Britain’s Got Talent that would be my skill. Exciting right? I was taught at school that girls needed typist skills and before you ask no I didn’t go to school in the 1950s. I have always believed that everyone has a talent, that one thing you can be amazing at. It would suck though if your talent happened to be in the wrong time period, you were destined to be the most amazing bassist before the bass guitar had been created.
Back to my typing skills, I was re-reading Dracula and thought of Mina and her typist abilities because she is actually the ‘writer’ of the novel. She transcribes the diaries and recordings, including the one where her husband is being seduced by evil vampire women, awkward right. It bothers me that there is never a reaction from her, I would feel uncomfortable, nay, pissed off if I had to type that up without even a mutter. I would have loved to see a version of the book with Mina’s comments in the margin, I like to imagine her rolling her eyes at the stupidity of the men. I mean come on Jonathan Harker what were you thinking of staying more than one night at the creepy vampire hotel?
Oh 2015 how I hope your films will be worth the stupid prices of the cinema. Will I be watching Fifty Shades of Pointless? No, the idea of sitting for roughly 1 hour and 45 minutes whilst a girl ums and ahhs as to whether she wants to be beaten up by a guy in a suit whilst I am supposed to believe there is a deep and meaningful story line going on doesn’t appeal. Don’t get me wrong I have nothing against BDSM relationships, hey as long as everyone is having a good have at it I say. I checked out Fifty Shades the book and got to admit found the sex scenes uninspiring and boring. Maybe if he wore a gimp outfit I might be more entertained?
Then there is the eagerly anticipated Hot Tub Time Machine 2. Yes that’s right 2. Audiences were obviously not satisfied with one film they just had to have more of this hot tub madness. Then there are more sequels in the shape of Divergent and The Hunger Games where I have to admit I am getting lost in which tough fighting heroine I am watching at a given time. Don’t worry dear reader I have figured it out – bow and arrow is Hunger Games, more advanced weaponry Divergent. Okay the girls have long hair, tight clothing, are surprising tough for their small size and boys all drop at their feet but honestly the story lines are totally different, like totally. Not going to lie though I’ll probably watch them both, or at least one, probably.
Star Wars, oh Star Wars, how I missed thee. I remember the time when Star Wars was cool. This was the 80s where Han Solo was a god, C3P0 was advanced technology and Carrie Fisher wore a gold bikini. Then Episode One happened and well you know the rest. Will this revamped sequel be any better? God I hope so.
This week I am planning to jump into the world of Marvel – let’s get Fantastic.
Firestarter by Torre Florim – I love the Prodigy so hearing there has been a cover made did send a wave of icy coldness go through me. However, got to say this song is just brilliant and takes what is a great song and without sounding like a judge on a reality show they’ve made it their own.
Check out the link below and watch the video for yourself:
Yesterday I self-published my novella So Close to Being Good and today I feel both empty and overwhelmed at the same time. It’s like I gave birth to something which has immediately gone off into the world never to return. Now before I run the risk of getting all melodramatic on you don’t worry that’s not my bag. You see, this blog is like a tracker, you know how irritating parents like to track their wondrous offspring on facebook (yeah thanks for littering my news feed with that) well this blog is doing the same with me and my book. We are both out there on the internet, criticism I am sure is on its way and rather than turn to twitter and engage in some kind of vicious sparring with….possibly Taylor Swift I decided to get myself out there this way.
This blog will let you know how my novella is faring and please feel free to electronically send me waves of sympathy mixed with vodka. But it won’t just be that, I will also be sharing my thoughts about the world at large because let’s face it isn’t that really what the internet is for….people upload their thoughts be it through word or video and someone has an opinion on it.
Anyway whatever, let’s see how long I keep it up for!