Day 215-- Sherlock Homes: A Game of Shadows movie review

Prologue: [feel free to skip to the actual review]

It appeared to be an average Tuesday night.  The bf told me he was picking me up for dinner and I assumed it would be at our usual nice-than-average spot, where I'd get my usual meal.  For some reason though I decided to ditch the faded jeans and acknowledge the itch to wear my expensive white Express coast and a magenta patterned scarf I save for trips up in the snow.

He picked me up and out of the blue started asking me about current movies. Ok, usual dinner + not so usual movie date (thank you, HBO and pirating). 

However, he starting drifting north and said quite causally that he was taking me out to Cinapolis, an upscale movie theater in very upscale Del Mar.  I was fucking im-pressed. We drove with a smile on my lips and a slight grin on his face knowing he was successful in his surprise. 

Cinapolis lives up to the hype.  The theaters are small, there's a snazzy full kitchen and bar at the entrance, you choose your seat as you buy your ticket, and tickets themselves are about $20 a piece because the chairs are automatic recliners and there is a button on every armrest to call for a waiter.  Oh, and you can bring booze into the theater too.

I was charmed.  And with the not-so-average Tuesday night being taken care of by him, I treated us to dinner at Sammi's and got mozzarella pizza for me, lamb chops for him, and some thai chicken skewers to split.  What can I say, it's nice to pretend to be in the 1%.

Sherlock Holmes review:

Now that I was reclined with a medium hot chocolate and my boyfriend with his glass of wine, here started Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows.

The curious thing about These Sherlock Holmes movies: no one can ever seem to remember the plot.  Like an enjoyable mist, it washes over us viewers in pleasure but we hardly remember it when it's over.  I know there was something about Sherlock's arch nemesis Professor Moriarty's desire to start a world war for political strategy or money or both, or...something.

There were plenty of tricks and quips, and the unflappable bromance of Sherlock and Dr.Watson, played by a comedically spry Jude Law (Watson), and Robert Downing Jr. as the dashing action hero-meets-fool-meets brilliant detective of Holmes.

There are trains, bombs, slight of hand, beautiful gypsies, 5 o'clock shadows on charming men in London suits, and a few nice surprises along the way--none which I particularly remember.  

It's cheeky without the snark. It's clever without the self-indulgence.  And on chilly winter Tuesday night, this may be the perfect cup of tea.

Day 214-- Atheism and Walmart

It has been said that there are no topics more toxic to conversation than politics and religion, and that it is best to keep your opinions to yourself unless in comfortable company.   For the most part I adhere to this absolutely, however, if one asks me, I am more than willing to talk.

The Canadian and I were at Walmart the other night looking for limes, an eyeliner sharpener, a bed comforter, and some US phone minutes.  As usual, Walmart is the place for mullets, stained sweatpants, and little girls handing out church/cult flyers.   

The Canadian and I got into the standard Walmart discussion of (a) admiring the institution for being a place to hire the "unemployable" ie the elderly and those with deformities, while (b) also hating Walmart for putting small businesses out of business, and the unfairness of the Walton children owning the same amount of wealth as the bottom 30% of the American POPULATION and not paying their workers higher wages.

In the car ride home I was going off about humanity and such and out of blue she asked me if I was Jewish.

Me:

"No.  It's the nose.  I get that question all the time, but no, I'm not Jewish or anything."

The Canadian's dad is a Episcopalian married priest and she paused for a minute to for me to explain what I am.

Me: 

"I was baptized Catholic with a healthy dash of the physic Sylvia Brown. So basically I grew up believing in heaven and God but also Sylvia Brown's beliefs that we have 3 chances to die and we get to chose which exit we want--like near death experiences.  Um, then there's her idea that when you die you ended up in heaven in your 30 year old body.  Also, there is a room in heaven full of records of everyone who has ever lived.  Oh, and reincarnation and how we live each life to learn a different lesson, and once we have learned all of the lessons of the world, our soul becomes absorbed with God.  

I had a nervous breakdown in a pizza joint when I was 13 because of this idea.  I didn't want to be absorbed into God and lose my consciousness, but I didn't want to live forever because the sun is going to die one day and I didn't want to be alive to see the end of the world.  Yeah.  I was a oversensitive kid.  

Actually when I was a kid I used to believe that we lived this life twice so I didn't want to do anything bad because I would have to relive this life all over again and I didn't want to relive my mistakes.  I also had the idea that this whole reality was just a part of giant--like an ogre--a giant's dream.  And this giant is sleeping by a creek and if he wakes up we all disappear."

The Canadian: 

"[laughs] So what do you believe now?"

Me:

"I'm an atheist.  [pause] I miss the idea of heaven and God, but no, I don't believe in it anymore.

Most people are surprised that I'm an atheist and figure that I'm some goody Christian."

The Canadian:

"Because you don't really drink or do drugs--

Me: 

"And [my boyfriend] is the only guy I've slept with.  But it's true, I don't believe in the afterlife.  But just because I don't believe in souls doesn't mean I don't believe in people.  I completely believe that we are all skin and blood and bones and in that matter, we are all the equal."

The Canadian: 

"That we're all the same."

Me:

"No, not the same.  Not all of us have the same opportunities as others.  But that starving kid in Africa or that mentally disabled person, or that rich guy, and I all have spleens and lungs and desires and fears, and we all deserved dignity and respect as a human being--a living thing. 

That's why I take ethics so seriously.  I don't believe in God to forgive me; I have me to forgive me.  And since I believe that all humans are deserving of respect and have just one life, I want to honor that and not cause harm to them as they are just as equal as me.

I mean that.  I believe that I am alive and when I'm dead there is nothingness so I have one single life and I don't want to waste it.  That's why I have such value in the arts and literature: I feel that art and pleasure are the purpose of life--not hedonistically or anything. Just...

I was suicidal when I was 17."

The Canadian:

"17?"

Me:

"Yes, 17.  I planned the whole thing, all of it, but I didn't, and that next day I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen in my life, and I realized that if I had died the day before I would have completely missed it.  It made me decide to have children.  I always didn't want to have children because I'm an atheist and I didn't want to bring a life into this world knowing that that life would die one day and I couldn't comfort them about this fact.  But that sunset.  This world is so fucking beautiful.  Good food, good friendship, good music--this world is so exquisite and I want my children to experience it.  Experience the beauty and the good food and good friends and good music, and I think that's why I get so annoyed when my friends are living a beige life working at 9-to-5 for 40 years.  I believe, and I hope I'm wrong, that they only have one single life and why waste it at some awful job and not experiencing joy?

The Canadian: 

"So when are you getting a new job?"

Me:

"[laughs] Soon." 

Day 213 (b)--On the Topic of the Quarter Life Crisis

"Might be the quaterlife crisis

Or just a stirring in my soul.

Either way I

Wonder sometimes

About the outcome

Of a still

Verdict-less life"

~John Mayer "Why Georgia"

This week it was brought to my attention that I would be hitting my mid-twenties this year.  Aside from ages 9 and 19 (I hate the number 9) I am usually very open to getting older without my fuss or drama.  However, that acknowledgement of midtwenty threw me off balance.

For some reason I thought that far away ages meant I'd be a whole different person by then: a whole different mind of sorts.  In a way I thought that me at [blank age] would be a sort of foreign stranger who suddenly had her shit figured out and owned a house with kids and a good job.  I didn't know where that house would be or what career she would have or who those husband/kids would be, and I thought of it as a sort of surprise.

Dummy.

I'm still the same person.  I am not a stranger but that same core person I was when I was 4 years old, 11 years old, 16, 20, 22, and today at 23.  Sure sure my experiences have changed and some of my philosophies have shifted but overall I am that same person.

Which means I have to do all of the work myself to turn into that "stranger".  Damn.

Many months ago I had a very in-depth conversation with my Best Friend in College about how choices post-college have longer consequences to them.  There are so many slippery slopes of this post-school life such as picking the wrong guy leading to the wrong marriage, working some crappy job to get by turning into 10 years of an unhappy career, and those relationships you're around will truly influence you better for worse.  Obviously we were taking the dire route in this idea of consequences, but nonethless our choices today will have longer vibrations into our future.

In college, most choices only last a semester.  Crappy class? Only 4 months.  Crappy job? Quit after Winter Break.  Crappy relationships? New semester, new attitude.  Semesters and quarters are these punctuation marks in our life choices: when these pauses are removed there is simply life that goes on and on and on without you realizing it, aside from birthdays and the new year. I suppose what I'm trying to say in these two paragraphs is that without a pause in life, there is little incentive for resolutions.  And if I'm not careful 24 will turn into 25, 26, 27, ect and if I don't take the time to pause and think I'll never change my circumstances into a better career/house/kids/ect.  Me and I need to make these changes, not some stranger-me who will do all the work for me.

So fuck!  Fuck, it's going to me during those interviews and working hard for a career.  Fuck, it's going to me applying for loans to buy a house and wondering if I'm mature enough for such a decision.  Fuck, it's going to my body carrying a child.  Fuck, it's me who's going to grow up. 

Kinda scary.  Kinda exciting to know that I'll be the agent in my own future; not some stranger. 

As My Best Friend in College posted on her blog once, "Be the person you always wanted to meet."  I'm working  on it.

Day 213-- [Author's note]

Sorry I've been remiss from my writing.  I have spent the first few days of the year thinking, discussing, thinking, and formulating ideas that are still in the slight fog of creativity.  I'll be posting these thoughts as separate entries with links here.  None of them are particularly interesting from a reader's perspective, but in terms of my first year of post-college there are imperatively important to me. 

And so here goes: How to Be A Rich Fuck, On the Topic of the Quarter Life Crisis, Sherlock Holmes 2 Movie Review, Atheism and Walmart, and my New Year's Resolutions.  Cheers!

Day 208--My top 11 moments of 2011

If I had to give it a label, I would call 2011 The Year of Growing Pains.  In this past year I graduated college, moved to San Diego, and attempted to start a career in book publishing.  Lots of crazy has happened for better for worse, and these have been my favorite moments of 2011. 

11.)  My last night in Arizona 

My last night in Arizona was a blast.  All of my good friends from the past 4 years showed up at La Bocca for salami, brie, hummus, mojitios, pizza, and pita.  We toasted, we laughed, we got a little tipsy, and it was one hell of a send off before my move to San Diego.  Oh, and I almost forgot, just before I took my taxi ride home my best friend in college and I hit up everyone's favorite local sex shop one last time.  Oh, ASU.

10.) Day 37-- Love

This day was the first day that I felt like I truly lived in San Diego.  Walks along the beach, holding hands, and a sweet piece of dark chocolate rocky road.

http://inkspotsandcuteflip-flops.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-37-love.html

9.) Trips to SF, SJ, and LA

Ok, I may be cheating a bit by including all three, but my favorite trips this year have all been interstate weekend hellos that cleared my head and inspired me again.  The visit up to SF was the quickest.  It was to see an old friend for the night and we got hilariously saddled with (1) her roommate breaking up with her no-good boyfriend and (2) a guy friend who didn't take the hint that it was time for him to leave.  We drove around the city belting out Adele and walking around The Exploratorium's patio and columns. I sincerely debated moving there and applying for an internship at Salon Magazine, but instead I drove to my new home in San Diego listening to Jack Johnson with the windows down and speakers up. 

I've had several good visits with grandma and the one in November was my favorite. She's always so encouraging in my life and wants to me to move to New York and talk to Oprah.

LA was a real blast as well.  I had been feeling blue from lack of job and direction, and seeing The Actress was just what I needed.  We got some dinner and a movie (Horrible Bosses) and headed back to her place to eat sour gummy worms with her roommate and watch Love and Other Drugs before the tranny hookers came alive in the night.  It felt real to be around one of my friends again.  And I really needed that boost.

8.) Day 107--Postal Service mornings

I love mornings that start with The Postal Service and the latest chapter of fanfiction.  That morning I was feeling high from an author event the night before, and getting the 'ok' from my publishing house to start researching a contest to get a high school student published.  I felt alive and filled with promise.

http://inkspotsandcuteflip-flops.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-love-morning-that-start-with-postal.html

7.) Halloween potluck

Halloween was a lil weird this year since I had to work that Saturday night, and I didn't get home until around midnight when everyone was already home and puking in their Rainbow Bright and Pimp outfits.  Sunday was planned on being more mellow and tasty.  We all participated in a potluck of chili, potato salad, green bean casserole, and some shrimp pasta--oh, and some wine and iced cream.  We cooked, we ate, we took a ton of pictures, we capped the night off with Evil Dead 2, and I felt like I had found myself a group in San Diego to call my own.

6.) Kayaking on a lake

I have wanted to kayak for about 4 years when I first started visiting San Diego and would watch the kayakers journey along the calm and scenic Mission Bay.  This 4th of July weekend my boyfriend and I joined his family for a family reunion at the brand new Arkansas lake house.  As soon as I could, I hit the kayak, and it was everything I hoped it would be: easy, serene, and playful.  I went out kayaking everyday I was there.

How to kayak on a lake

5.) My 23rd birthday party Ho Down

For my 23rd birthday, my boyfriend and I got to spent the night at his folk's really nice desert house away from everything.  Some good sex and champagne later and we were relaxing outside with him and his pipe and me with my Sylvia Plath looking out at the desert landscape.  We came home for my Ho Down party where everyone had to dress up like a country ho (flannel, short shorts).

It started off with my closest friends all looking a lil' country trashy happy for some hot dogs and the hotub. As the night progressed it turned into a dance party, with a very vocal rendition of everyone singing "Fuck You" by Cee-Lo at some point around 1.  It mellowed into a smoke out in my room and another dip in the spa.  The best part was the morning after when all of those easter egg party favors I left out in the baskets (my birthday's in April) ended up in the most bizarre hidden Easter egg spots, like in the rafters and in the butter container.  We were still finding eggs weeks afterward, haha.  Sorry, roommates.

4.) Picking up a Mexican Gentleman of Leisure from the border 

Next to the patrol cars and dusty gas pumps he was standing there in his starched pink suit shirt, khaki slacks, and pale straw hat with a leather band around the middle--the kind of hat my grandfather wore so many years ago.  It may not have been a limo to pick him up, but our 2010 Honda was a welcomed site for the humored gentleman.

The best day at my internship at the publishing house was when me and my co-worker picked up our "Mexican Gentleman of Leisure" author (as I dubbed him) from the border.  He came over to deliver a lecture on writing tips to a community college in the area and with his wit and old age, I fell in love with story-telling, writing, and publishing a little bit more.

3.) Running into the ocean in a little black dress at 3am

And so I ran across the sand and into the ocean with my little black dress on and my black heels in hand, and let the 3am calm coolness hit me as my feet made it into low tide.  Never in my life have I seen the ocean more beautiful.  It was a slightly overcast sky that meshed well with the mellow waves, making that edge beyond the white crests look like the most peaceful place you could ever reach.

I thought for a moment that it was the absolute perfect place for a surrender.  

It was one of the best moments of my life, without exaggeration

The full story 

2.) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 movie premiere

For 10 magical years of film and 13 years of readings, Harry Potter created a family between strangers and imagination in those still willing to believe.  At midnight of the July 15th, we, in our cloaks, robes, and glasses, said goodbye to our hero.  It was a shining moment, and as silly as it sounds, it felt like a salute to our childhoods as well as to Harry.

My review 

1.) Graduating college

Ok, so my degree hasn't amounted to anything yet, but I can say without hesitation nor reluctance that graduating college was one of the most (if not the most) important moments in my life.  There was never a doubt that I would walk in the robes and cap for my graduation day.  There have been and still are simply too many women in this world who will never get the chance to be where I've been to not accept the honor of walking.

My family came from farmers, drunks, and a few too many regrets, so this was a moment for them as well as for me.  This was for my mom who dropped out after a year.  This was for my dad was hid his illiteracy for his whole life.  But mainly it was for me and the feeling of finally achieving a dream I harbored since I was a little tiny kid.

The two day ceremony was quite something.  There were thousands of maroon-clad graduates at commencement, and I chatted with my classmates knowing I'd probably never see them again.  We wished each other well in poverty and spirits in having an English degree in 2011, and slammed our shitty professors one last time for good measure.  And then it was time to stand up and be congratulated for entering the club of educated men and women of Arizona.  We crossed over our tassels started screaming and laughing as "Firework" by Katy Perry began and surprise fireworks popped over the open stadium.  

My mom was there, and my boyfriend of the past 4 years, and my best friend and favorite roommate in college, plus her boyfriend who's friend of mine too. So many hugs and pictures, and the most beautiful purple flowers I've ever seen.  Some grads go out for drinks, I wanted to go out for lava cake.  Mom went home and the 4 of us headed back to where the heart of my college was: the outside of my favorite apartment at Domino's.  The 4 of us had a life in that apartment.  At various times and who was home: we loved there, fought there, nearly broke up and broke up and made up, had girl time watching Sex and the City and making margaritas before class, we had parties there and dinners there, we had alone time there procrastinating in our global studies or literature essays--we lived there, and on my graduation day there was no other place I wanted to be but home.

The next day I received my diploma around 8am.  I texted my mom as I sat down, "I just graduated college, Mom." And when I was alone outside before we all huddled together for some Ihop, I spoke quietly, "I just graduated college, Dad" and smiled while a few rebellious tears slipped out.  I did it.

Day 207--"Revolution" and iced tea

The bf is sitting in my black chair somewhat reading the latest Margaret Atwood novel as he's thinking of the next bout of our lively debate of how to talk to people objectivity when, in real life, most people interpret comments personally.  

It doesn't matter if a speaker intends to offend or simply says an objective statement that is taken offensively, that person being offended will still harbor resentment towards the speaker. So how can you talk to people? I say think before you speak, and he thinks there could be a better tactic not involving sugar coating.  And so I go back to merrily type my latest post while listening to Black Carl and he goes back to reading and sending me some flirty looks here and there, making me laugh.

The end of the year is almost here and I've been doing my back-burner tasks of posting old pictures on facebook, working on blog drafts, and sometime before midnight I have to pay my car registration to Cali.  

It's been a real nice day.  Breakfast consisted of dark chocolate and the last of the stale sugar cookies, and I wore my new cut off black sweats barefooted around the house looking for our latest copy of Food+Wine.  No one in this house cooks but we have tons of cookbooks and food magazines for some reason.

A few hours of photo selection and uploading later and I had the past 7 months posted, tagged, and captioned--all while eating some left over beef pho and drying my hair.

The boyfriend came over after work in a sexy healthy mood.  He's been sick these past few days and I brought him some pho and a back rub last night at his place.  He opted to stay at his house one more night as to not get me sick, so this afternoon was a warmly flushed reunion. 

I always enjoy the after and sleeping on his chest being nice and toasty.  We got to talking about relationships and friendships we have and had, and how he doesn't understand why people have relationships that "end", whereas for him relationships are relationships and continue through change or decline or increase.  When we first started dating he told me that when he loves he loves forever.  In knowing him, it's true.  Whether or not you have stayed in contact with my boyfriend, he has thought about you and still cares for you.  The love we have may change or grow or decline, but I can assure you that this love will not disappear, and cuddled up under green sheets on a foggy December night I was feeling rather happy.

Ah, here's the latest bout, he says when it comes to telling the truth if the truth is not spoken with bluntness it would not be the truth.  I say comedic telling of the truth will be listened to more readily.  We debate this a bit before telling each other some cock jokes and and I say, "Back to me and why I'm so amazing."  He's reading again and I'm back to typing.

"Here's a question," he puts out there, "If you were to poll all California women and they had to chose a survey of what's more important: facts or feelings, what would they chose?  And what would California men chose: facts or feelings?" I think about it for 2 seconds and reply, 'I imagine that most men would x 'facts', and all women would get out their pen and draw a circle for 'both'.  All women.  All.  You're welcome." He laughs and reads the latest news on the election.

We had dinner at a local bar with a surprisingly extensive menu.  He bought the first round of an iced tea for me, a Stella for him, and chicken nachos between us.  We got onto the topic of girls with boy haircuts and how our society always assume that they're lesbians. Most girls in our life with boy haircuts are either lesbians or weird and my boyfriend joked that we should bring back the word "witch" for weird girls.  'I'm not weird, I'm a witch, bitch!' All Crucible style.  "Who do I have to blame for this, Hawthorne?".  I laughed and told him that this is why I love him: he's a San Diego dude who can allude to Hawthorne and The Crucible.  I paid for the next round of more iced tea, more Stella, and some burger sliders which were awful.  I don't like sliders. I have no idea why I order them at least once a year.  New Years Resolution: never order sliders again.  We talked about The Beatles and if they would have survived as a band today, and if it was them or The Doors that had that song "Revolution".

Which brings us back to here and an unfortunate case of not having milk in the house. (sigh) I should get some groceries tomorrow.  Some Granny Smith apples, more angel hair pasta, maybe get creative for New Years like spinach artichoke dip and roasted grapes with brie cheese (thank God for gift cards!).  Goodnight.  I need to go pay my car registration and write my next rent check.