Wednesday, 15 February 2012

  • # 584 - another nice photo - and a story

    Let it be known to the world: I am currently writing a Prince of Persia fanfiction. Anyone interested in reading?

    The above resulted in me stumbling over another veeery nice photo today:

    What initially caught my eye in this photo was Jake Gyllenhaal the curious tension between fantasy and reality. It looks very much like a shot from the movie Prince of Persia, but as you look closer, it does not seem like the two actors are in character, but rather they are just chatting, passing time until shooting begins or something. Still, it is not your average press photo. It's very aestethical and beautiful. Alright, to the distribution of points of awesome:

    • The picture's tension between fantasy and reality: 15 points
    • The picture shows something from Prince of Persia: 10 points
    • Aestethic value: 15 points
    • Awesome sepia colors: 5 points
    • It shows Tamina with a relaxed facial expression: 5 points
    • It shows Dastan from a very advantageous angle: 10 points
    • Especially his profile: 5 points
    • And his muscular arms: 5 points
    • The pattern on the makeshift tent cloth is really pretty: 5 points
    • Tamina has pretty hands: 5 points
    • And a sweet hairdo: 5 points
    • And a lovely outfit: 5 points
    • It shows a very snug and cozy situation in general: 5 points:

    Result: 95 points.

Thursday, 09 February 2012

  • # 583 - Merlin rant

    This year's practical training period is almost over for me. I just have tomorrow and next week left to go. I am not sad that it is over. It is not that the school isn't nice, or that they did not treat me well. Actually it is the best school I have been to so far. But the expectations are just so high. And because I am unsure whether I want to be a teacher after all, it means that I just fall short of those last ten percent of energy and effort and purpose. It has been very trying for me. I have not been at my best performance. I have not been at ease in the classroom. And that is unfair to the kids. But, it does not look like my partner and I are failing the training, as long as we manage to write a decent report. The report does count for half of the result, though. We want to finish the report by Wednesday. I hope we can manage it. Next week is a special topic week, though, and we have to work full schedule. We might be very tired at the end of it, and then we want to start to write the report already on the following Saturday. I hope we are not biting off more than we can chew. Well, I can't begin to tell you how much I look forward to when it is over and I get my life back.

    Lately, the hubby and I have been totally engrossed in the TV series Merlin. Over a period of a couple of months, we bought all four seasons on DVD. We are now halfway through season 3. It is so good! But a lot of things changed between season 2 and season 3 (Cendred/Cenred's name among other things!) It got a lot darker, at least in the first couple of episodes. I did not like that so much. But the episodes that we watched more recently are better. They are really good, in fact. We watch one episode a day. During season two we sometimes watched two episodes in one day, but it's too quickly over with, if you keep doing that. The thing that I like so much about the series, is that so much of it is based on myth. Myths are just really good stuff! One of my favourite episodes is the one where Arthur slays a unicorn and consequently has to pass some character-strengthening tests to acquit himself of the guilt. I love the ending of that episde, where they go through the labyrinth and then sit at the table and have to agree on who gets to drink from the poisoned goblet. I like all the scenes where Arthur and Merlin are forced to show that they actually care for each other. Ha ha.

    In season three the character Gwain is introduced. At first I didn't like him that much, but now I think he is quite funny. And I think he is 95% like the Flynn Ryder character in Tangled, which is funny too. You'd really think they sculpted Gwain's character over Flynn's. Gwain is really cool, not telling the folks in Camelot that he is actually a noble. And Gwain makes Lancelot seem like such a cry-baby. I used to like Lancelot for his over-achieving, chivalrous soul-searching, but Gwain is much more fun, even though if I was actually in a room with him, he would annoy me to death. Lancelot annoys me too, because I cannot help but speculate whether he will not lure Guinevere away from Arthur in the end. If he does, he will be forever in my black book, and so will Guinevere for going along with it, even though I really like her too. (Pick a man and stick with him, woman! (I know which one I'd pick.)) For all Lancelot said he would not get between them, you never know, because he is totally crazy about her. And that would just ruin everything.

    I remember how it was represented in the old movie with Sam Neill. Even though you mean well and spend your entire life trying to guide the people with the power, they will eventually do something incredibly stupid, and there will be consequences that ust can't be rectified. That sort of thing can almost give me a stomach ache. So I hope there will be a happy end of sorts to the series.

    Oh, and I found this lovely picture and was looking for an opportunity to post it somewhere:

     

    I like this photo for the following reasons:

    • It is from "Merlin" (10 points)
    • It features a nice character (Guinevere) (5 points)
    • It has a nice composition (5 points)
    • It has an awesome color-scheme (5 points)
    • It features candles (5 points)
    • It features someone holding a quill (15 points - quills are awesome!)
    • It features someone writing in a notebook (15 points - writing in notebooks is awesome!)
    • The notebook is made from handmade paper (an extra 5 points)
    • It features a lot af natural materials like wood, flowers, straw (5 points)
    • It looks medieval
    • It features a nice medieval dress (5 points)
    • The person in the picture smiles in a kind way (5 points)
    • The color of the flowers is beautiful (5 points)

    Result: 90 points.

    To get my mind off worries related to practical training, I have not only watched a lot of Merlin episodes, I have also been reading some awesome books. Among others, the Ranger's Apprentice #4: The Battle of Skandia by John Flanaghan and two books from my childhood, The children of Crow Cove #1 by Bodil Bredsdorf and The Wild Boy And Queen Moon by K.M. Peyton. Those two last ones brought back some nice memories. And it is funny to consider how your understanding and your experience of reading a book change with your age. I just started reading the Ranger's Apprentice #5: The Sorcerer in the North, and so far it is really good.

    One of my friends from the "clique" bought a house recently and he moved into it (That's what people who buy houses tend to do with them, I suppose), so the rest of us (the "clique") came down and spent the weekend there to celebrate. We had a really nice time. But I dislike sleeping in strange beds and especially I dislike sleeping in a sleeping bag with no pillow. So I was quite tired when we came home on Sunday afternoon. I was also tired when we got there because I had had a busy week with the practical training, so I was the one who turned in the earliest. So I sort of feel like I missed out on half the fun. But I am happy for the fun that I did have. It was nice to meet everyone, especially Erling and Henriette, who just got married the weekend before.

    Yesterday I made a quick shopping trip to the town centre on my way back from the psychiatrist. It was very fruitful. I got:

    • An eye cream from Origins
    • A big tub of the lovely pomegranate showergel from Matas 
    • New hair ties
    • A cute dress top
    • A four colour eyeshadow

    I love making lists. Lists are another amazing use for amazing notebooks.

    Lately, since I won the Oscar for best female lead in my class (!), I have been thinking of trying my hand at acting. I think I always wanted to try it, but have been to shy, and I've also thought I'd just not be good at it. But since the "Oscar", maybe I should try and find out whether I have any talent at all, or just if it would be fun to do. I searched the internet for drama classes here in town, and found this super drama school. Sadly, they don't take pupils who are older than twenty. So my plans have kind of stalled. I thought about writing them to ask whether they know of any drama lessons for people my age. But even if they do, I don't know if I want to sacrifice the time or the energy. Well, I suppose I do. I need to do something creative on a regular basis. Well, I'll see when I get around to it.

Friday, 02 December 2011

  • # 582 - Night in

    Earlier today I felt rotten, to say the least. I mean, why does being in existance have to be so hard for me? I am sure it doesn't have to be, but I just can't figure out how to live and not be in pain. I am in pain. I feel like I've been dropped on the floor. I feel like I fail at being alive. I know it sounds so pathetic, but that's really how I feel. And I had a good cry about it this afternoon, which helped, for now, but the feeling will be back for sure. Please, give me hope.

    Kristian is out of town this evening, so I ordered pizza and threw myself on the sofa with a stack of select movies. There was this christmas concert downtown, that I meant to go to, or at least I was expected to go to, but I forgot all about it, probably because I was so out of it earlier. Or I just rather wanted to spend the night in.

    So, first I watched Night at the Museum, for the second time in my life. I think it is quite good, but could have been even better. Like it haven't reached the limit of its potential. Or something. It was really entertaining, though. I laughed out loud, even though I was alone. Except for Jasmin, our cat. She didn't really mind, though. She was having a nap atop of the old cupboard.

    Afterwards I watched Ever After. That movie, well, it's just something special. You might not have noticed, but really, it is. It's a fairy tale taken seriously. Fairy tale and romance of the sweetest kind. I think, if it was set up these days and not 13 years ago as is the case, it would not be as grand. Those people really wanted to make a good movie, they didn't just go for the "lowest common denominator". I think girls aged 0-99 will get something out of this movie, even some boys, too. Maybe. Anyway, it might be because I'm just so sentimental and emotionally unbalanced tonight, but I know this movie just gets to me every time I watch it. And Drew Barrymore is among my favourite actresses... Along with Emma Thompson, Whoopi Goldberg and Sandra Bullock. Those are some classy women.

    Alright, now I wrote a blog and cleansed my face. What to do next? The clock says it's okay to go to bed now, but I am not sure I can sleep. Hmmm, I will have to think about it. I'd love to do something artsy, I just can't decide what, and I also can't decide whether it would be too much of a hassle or not, for example to get out my sketch book and colours, or start at new story, which I know I will never finish. Hmmm...

    By the way, I finished reading Persuasion this morning. I LOVED it. It isn't Jane Austen's worst novel, that's for sure, though I could not pick a favourite. I have tried but ... no, it's impossible. They're all great in their own way. I still haven't read Mansfield Park.

Monday, 28 November 2011

  • # 581 - genealogy

    The following I wrote in a notebook while in school on the 23rd of November 2011.

    I have sometimes thought about writing the history of my family on my mother's side. On my father's side, my uncle already researched the family for many years, and last year he collected the whole work in a book which he gave a copy of to all members of the family. At first I thought of just writing the women's history. My grandmother has been gone eight years now, and I do not want to forget her. I do not want anyone to forget my mother either, because she is amazing. And I do not know anything about my great grandmother, and not even much about my grandmother's life. I know my mum told me some things, but to be honest, I do not remember any of it. So what if my mum gets hit by a car tomorrow? What can I tell my children about their ancestry? Nothing! It needs to be written down, systematically. I would start by interviewing my mother and then expand my research from there. I could even go to places and take pictures and stuff. I remember when I was a child, we sometimes went to this church yard in some town and visited an old grave, where it was almost impossible to read the inscription on the white marble headstone. But I can not remember the relation of that person to our family. And I could also write about the male family members. My mother's father was a wonderful man, so says my mother and my older sister, but I do not remember him myself, sadly. He died when I was just two or three years old. And I never bothered to ask why he and my grandmother divorced. Actually, I am not even sure that is what happened, I just do not know why else they would not be living together.

    The thing is, it is an awfully big project. Just look at my uncle, he took years and years, ten at least, to make that book. And I think I have enough big projects in my life, or should I say unfinished projects, as it is. I am afraid of beginning and not finishing, like with everything else I do. But on the other hand, it would be something real. Something from the real world that relates to the real me and the people around me. It is not just like a computer game that I bury myself in, or a great series of fantasy books about people and events I will never be a part of. It is real. Real people that lived in the world, in my world, and became my ancestors.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

  • # 580 - Little things

    Today I had no classes - luckily, because I really didn't feel up to anything, when I woke up around 7.15. I think I am still sick. I called my dad last night and told him that I no longer take the anti-depressive medicine. He was really pleased to hear that, and so am I. Instead I am filling my body with hormones, aka birth control pills. But that is not half as bad. Still, it could be that, which I am reacting to.

    Still, I managed to get a few things done around here: Showered and washed my hair, washed a machineful of clothes, made the bed, cleaned the dishwasher (which is acting up - I hope we soon figure out what's wrong with it.), read a few pages for pedagogy class (which I should have read last week, d'oh), and dug up all the English grammar sheets we have, in order to prepare for the last grammar class on Thursday. This grammar stuff is way harder than I expected it to be. I don't know how I will ever get it right. I hope I will get some kind of revelation on Thursday, which just solves it all for me. I'll prepare as best I can.

    I began reading a book called My Sister's Keeper, by Jodi Picoult. It is about this family with a daughter who has leuchemia (is that spelled right?) and there are a lot of hard stuff that they have to go through. I didn't expect it to be so realistic. It constantly reminds me of my own medical history, and though I think the book is good, I am not sure I like the fact that it stirs up all these painful feelings in me. In fact I do not like it.

    Kristian met up with his study group earlier today, but now he is home with me - yay! He prepared lunch. He also made dinner last night. Since I stopped taking the medicine, I totally lost my appetite. So I feel like I am constantly more or less hungry, but I hate putting food in my mouth. Everything just tastes like ashes. I'll have to think of some dishes, that are really really tasty, and see if we are able to make them. Mostly the problem is, that cooking these tasty things takes more time and especially more energy, mental and bodily, than we can muster.

    There are these kinds of shelves that we have been talking of forever that we should hang in the bathroom. It is a kind of pipe made from netting, with shelves inside and holes in the side at each shelf. Right now it just hangs from the towel hanger, which is not very practical, lol. And since we got around to hanging up the lamp yesterday, maybe we can get around to hang this pipe of shelves up today. We also have to take some photos of the electric installments and send to my father, because he is going to repair them for us, and he needs to see what type they are and what parts he needs to bring along.

Writings Showcase

The Last Journal Entries of Thomas Chatterton

(This is pure fiction)

18th of August 1770, Brooke Street

Smith’s Publishing House turned down my collection. They would not hear of publishing any of it. They were as anxious to get rid of me as Waterstone’s, Pemberley, Knightsbridge, Coldham’s and all the rest. There are more publishers I could see, but it is only folly to continually subject myself to ridicule and humiliation. I cannot go on like this. I must wait, I must concentrate fully on writing from now on, and not see another publisher until I have something worthy to present. Something that can truly measure up to the great poets of our time.

My works so far are all worthless, I see that now, though I was so fond of them earlier, especially A Gust of Southern Wind. But though the imagery of that poem was very fine, and the rhythm flawless, I must say, the most important thing was still missing. I, or the reader, failed to truly feel that golden gust of wind on the face. All the elements in that poem are right, but together they still do not work. It must be my dying imagination.

Yes, it is dying. More and more I have to struggle to have the words come out. What happened to the old days, when they simply poured out abundantly whenever I held a pen in my hand? I did not have so many worries then. I was never rich, I know as much, but I used to have what I needed. I scorned my mother’s home, and am too proud to return an even lesser man, than when I went away, as did the Prodigal Son.

I never had a close friend, but in Bristol I was at least among people who knew my name. And though mama could never understand my troubled soul, at least she did have some love for me. She used to say, that I must be trustful and commend myself to others if I wanted friends. They would not show up at my door all by themselves. But how is that possible for me? I am sure that if I ever approached anyone, they would either laugh scornfully at me, or, if they were quite decent people, feel pity for me and to some extent tolerate my presence, but never truly appreciate it.

Tears are falling on the table now. Even they scorn me, crying out: “how pitiful, how useless and stupid you are, Thomas Chatterton. We wish not to know anything of you. Wipe us away at once!” What shall I do? Not even the good Lord can help a soul as utterly disgraceful and hideous as mine. What on earth shall I do, I am all alone in the world, and cannot even love myself.

23rd of August 1770, Brooke Street

Tonight I shall close my eyes on this world for the last time. I have only to breathe the treacherous air, which forces my tired heart to keep on beating, a few hours longer. What bliss lies in the knowledge, that I shall never again feel the cruel stab in my heart, that is the first moment of consciousness, when I wake in the morning. That stab, which has killed me every day for as long as I can remember. In fact, taking one’s own life cannot be such a terrible thing after all, when your soul is already gone, and all that is left is this flesh, an empty vessel. I am sure my soul must be gone, or I should have been able to write worthy poetry. But there is nothing left in me to give the words life, like in the days when I was still a boy. That is the reason everyone finds my poems dull and dry. And therefore I am less afraid of the judgment of the Almighty: I am not truly ending my life - it was ended long ago, though I know not how.

I bought a vial of arsenic at the Hill’s Apothecary this morning. I feel pity for mama, who shall be dreadfully sorry upon receiving the news of what I have done, and for my relatives in town, who shall probably suffer some days of ill conscience, and for the poor housemaid who shall be very shocked to find my dead body in this room tomorrow. But all of their suffering added together could never measure up to my own misery, and I pray they will all understand, that I merely chose the lesser of two evils.

In a library book I read, that arsenic poisoning causes rapid and painful organ failure. My death shall not be a peaceful one then, but I no longer fear the pain, it shall be a minor addition to that which already torments my mind and soul. I had thought of sitting by the window, looking at the stars appearing in the sky for one last time, but it seems any and all beauty of this world has faded - I may as well swallow the drink of death, which is sitting right here on the table, this very moment and be free of it ...

The vial is now empty; it’s content tasted sweet in my mouth, but already I feel its destructive power spread through my gut, and I can barely hold on to my pen ... I must g ...

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I am Elinor Dashwood!
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Quotes Collection

"If everything seems under control, you are not going fast enough."
~ Mario Andretti

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."
~ Eleanor Roosevelt

"Always recognize that human individuals are ends, and do not use them as means to your end."
~ Immanuel Kant

"Every time that you throw dirt, you lose a little ground."
~ D:A:D