To the remaining readers of this blog, I have moved to greener pastures. You can locate me at http://lingnemesis.wordpress.com/.
I hope to slit you there swoon. =D
I hope to slit you there swoon. =D
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Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Monday, 17 August 2009
Commemorating One Year of the Thermostat War
So it's kind of hard for me to believe it, but the Gentleman Husband and I passed our 1st wedding anniversary on Sunday.
To celebrate we went up to L**** for a little getaway, which was relaxing and lovely and full of good foods, as any self-respecting getaway must be. More to come on that.
A lot of people's first year of marriage, while great, grand, and wonderful, is also a very difficult one. This makes sense because if you think about it, it's kind of a big year.
It's the year you learn to live with this other person who, as it turns out, believes that the inside of the toilet bowl is really only a loose sort of goal rather than an ironclad, electric-current-bordered target. (Seriously, can someone please make an electrified toilet rim? And maybe do the floor, too? I would appreciate it. You know, for a friend of mine. Who you don't know.)
In turn, they learn how to deal with the fact that sometimes you're just going to cry and be a rage beast for no (real) reason, and how to navigate that without losing an arm or other valuable body part.
It's the year you begin learning to balance loyalty and responsibility to each other and your own new family with all of the events, traditions, and expectations of the families you grew up in. (Note: Good luck with that.)
You're learning how to have a good physical relationship, which comes with a significant learning curve and the potential for unrealistic expectations, frustration, and hurt feelings.
If one or both of you are moving to a new town or starting new jobs, there's the stress of those transitions.
You have to deal with things like January. And February. You know--awful, awful cold things.
So yeah. When I think about this, it's not hard to understand why someone would say that their first year of marriage was the hardest. And when I report that for us this has not so much been the case, I am fully aware that this is because it's going to be some other year--maybe even this coming one, that will deliver the real pimp slaps.
But as far as this year goes, it really has been great and fast and surprisingly smooth. GH has been more patient and understanding and kitchen-cleany than I expected or deserve. I like to believe that I have been more silly and less the Enemy of Fun that he was prepared for. (I mean hi, I played Rock Band last night. And I ruled at it.) Our families have been great as we've tried to get our act together and balance our time between them. Rather than pestering us about when we are going to reproduce, our ward members have for the most part ignored us. (Except I will say that whoever reported that they home-taught us for the last two months is going DOWN, because no way is that true. Ignore us all you want but don't pretend otherwise, friend.)
And now this is the part where you can look away because I am going to thank GH for what has been the best year so far of my life. And that's INCLUDING that one time when I lived in England. So, you know, this is serious.
But now I'd like to hear from you, gentle readers. If you are married, what has been your hardest year so far? Which transitions have been the most difficult--and was it something you could have foreseen or did it come as a complete suckerpunch? If you're not married (or you just don't want to talk about your own relationship because you have standards like that), feel free to pass on what you've heard or observed, because I know you know stuff too.
To celebrate we went up to L**** for a little getaway, which was relaxing and lovely and full of good foods, as any self-respecting getaway must be. More to come on that.
A lot of people's first year of marriage, while great, grand, and wonderful, is also a very difficult one. This makes sense because if you think about it, it's kind of a big year.
It's the year you learn to live with this other person who, as it turns out, believes that the inside of the toilet bowl is really only a loose sort of goal rather than an ironclad, electric-current-bordered target. (Seriously, can someone please make an electrified toilet rim? And maybe do the floor, too? I would appreciate it. You know, for a friend of mine. Who you don't know.)
In turn, they learn how to deal with the fact that sometimes you're just going to cry and be a rage beast for no (real) reason, and how to navigate that without losing an arm or other valuable body part.
It's the year you begin learning to balance loyalty and responsibility to each other and your own new family with all of the events, traditions, and expectations of the families you grew up in. (Note: Good luck with that.)
You're learning how to have a good physical relationship, which comes with a significant learning curve and the potential for unrealistic expectations, frustration, and hurt feelings.
If one or both of you are moving to a new town or starting new jobs, there's the stress of those transitions.
You have to deal with things like January. And February. You know--awful, awful cold things.
So yeah. When I think about this, it's not hard to understand why someone would say that their first year of marriage was the hardest. And when I report that for us this has not so much been the case, I am fully aware that this is because it's going to be some other year--maybe even this coming one, that will deliver the real pimp slaps.
But as far as this year goes, it really has been great and fast and surprisingly smooth. GH has been more patient and understanding and kitchen-cleany than I expected or deserve. I like to believe that I have been more silly and less the Enemy of Fun that he was prepared for. (I mean hi, I played Rock Band last night. And I ruled at it.) Our families have been great as we've tried to get our act together and balance our time between them. Rather than pestering us about when we are going to reproduce, our ward members have for the most part ignored us. (Except I will say that whoever reported that they home-taught us for the last two months is going DOWN, because no way is that true. Ignore us all you want but don't pretend otherwise, friend.)
And now this is the part where you can look away because I am going to thank GH for what has been the best year so far of my life. And that's INCLUDING that one time when I lived in England. So, you know, this is serious.
But now I'd like to hear from you, gentle readers. If you are married, what has been your hardest year so far? Which transitions have been the most difficult--and was it something you could have foreseen or did it come as a complete suckerpunch? If you're not married (or you just don't want to talk about your own relationship because you have standards like that), feel free to pass on what you've heard or observed, because I know you know stuff too.
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Now I am a movie critic too, because I can do pretty much whatever I want
And today I wish to discuss the movie 500 Days of Summer.
I do realize it's already been reviewed by both Handsome Gentlemen and cool Jet-setters. But I want to chime in too, dangit. Because it was wonderful.
Like the awesome-voiced narrator tells us in the very beginning, "This is not a love story. This is a story about love." It follows Tom, played by the surprisingly n adorable and charming Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Tom is a 20-something young pup who studied architecture in college but now has a job creating copy for greeting cards. He believes in destiny, fate, soaking it up in a hot tub with his soul mate, all of it. He meets new receptionist Summer (GH's GF Zooey Deschanel) and, on the basis of her attractiveness and their similar taste in music, decides that she's The One. Unfortunately, although she likes Tom, Summer does not actually believe in love, or marriage, or soul mates. Tom is so infatuated with her, however, that he . . . chooses to kind of ignore this. Until she breaks up with him and he falls completely apart and is determined to win her back.
First off, I would like to say kudos to a movie that actually casts two people in their 20s as romantic partners, with the kinds of jobs and friends that people that age would actually have. This instead of pairing 29-year-old Zooey Deschanel with, oh, I dunno, 47-year-old Jim Carrey and then pretending like the 20-year age difference doesn't even exist. Way to suck, Hollywood.
This movie was pretty much perfect, I thought. It was funny and sad and real--oh my, was it ever real. In fact, there was one point in the movie where Tom stands up and makes an impassioned speech in front of his coworkers about three-fourths of the way in. That was the first time I ever thought, "Um, but would a person really DO that?" That's how I know that I was watching something that was 500 times better than your (sub)average recent romantic comedy. Because those movies expect you to suspend your disbelief before you even leave your dang house. In any other romantic comedy the impassioned speech would have come from Matthew McConaughy to an entire ballroom of people, during a wedding, and maybe he would be naked and holding a pillow over his bits, and then at the end of the speech everyone would be crying and clapping and curing cancer and adopting tiny spicy exotic babies left and right. In this movie there was none of that mess.
The filmmakers did some really clever things that I think worked extremely well. The narrative isn't linear but instead flips around, with title cards letting you know which day of the 500 Days you're on. It makes sense, though, and leads you through the story in a way that is really quite moving. And it also made me want to watch it again to see which little moments and call-backs I could catch better the second time around. One great visual involved a split-screen device that shows Tom's expectations of a reconciliation with Summer on the left and what actually happens on the right. Heartbreaking, but also very funny.
This movie also contains the most sublime moment I've seen on film all year, which occurs as Tom walks through LA after spending the night with Summer. I won't describe it to you, but I was giddy with delight. What happens is not based in reality at all, but the feeling it portrays most definitely is. And the soundtrack is great.
There were other scenes, however, that resonated in a different, slightly painful way. Because I have done some of the things Tom does here. I have been in relationships where I saw every insignificant little thing as further evidence that this guy and I were MFEO. I have been unwilling to recognize red flags. I was unwilling to actually listen to the words this person was saying and to realize that perhaps they did not bode well for our future together. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was just setting myself up to be heartbroken.
A few days after seeing the movie, GH and I listened to a podcast featuring one of the film's two writers. He talked about how in test screenings, the people who loved this movie the most were men. And how men are, unfortunately, the least likely to be the ones running out to tell their guy friends that they have GOT to check out this new romantic comedy. Except GH did because he's secure (and hot) like that.
It's true, though. He laughed even harder than I did and there were moments during Tom's angst and dejection and misery where GH just nodded his head and said, "Yep." And then I'd lean over and stroke his arm and whisper, "I'm really, really sorry. Remember how I married you in the end, though?"
I do realize it's already been reviewed by both Handsome Gentlemen and cool Jet-setters. But I want to chime in too, dangit. Because it was wonderful.
Like the awesome-voiced narrator tells us in the very beginning, "This is not a love story. This is a story about love." It follows Tom, played by the surprisingly n adorable and charming Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Tom is a 20-something young pup who studied architecture in college but now has a job creating copy for greeting cards. He believes in destiny, fate, soaking it up in a hot tub with his soul mate, all of it. He meets new receptionist Summer (GH's GF Zooey Deschanel) and, on the basis of her attractiveness and their similar taste in music, decides that she's The One. Unfortunately, although she likes Tom, Summer does not actually believe in love, or marriage, or soul mates. Tom is so infatuated with her, however, that he . . . chooses to kind of ignore this. Until she breaks up with him and he falls completely apart and is determined to win her back.
First off, I would like to say kudos to a movie that actually casts two people in their 20s as romantic partners, with the kinds of jobs and friends that people that age would actually have. This instead of pairing 29-year-old Zooey Deschanel with, oh, I dunno, 47-year-old Jim Carrey and then pretending like the 20-year age difference doesn't even exist. Way to suck, Hollywood.
This movie was pretty much perfect, I thought. It was funny and sad and real--oh my, was it ever real. In fact, there was one point in the movie where Tom stands up and makes an impassioned speech in front of his coworkers about three-fourths of the way in. That was the first time I ever thought, "Um, but would a person really DO that?" That's how I know that I was watching something that was 500 times better than your (sub)average recent romantic comedy. Because those movies expect you to suspend your disbelief before you even leave your dang house. In any other romantic comedy the impassioned speech would have come from Matthew McConaughy to an entire ballroom of people, during a wedding, and maybe he would be naked and holding a pillow over his bits, and then at the end of the speech everyone would be crying and clapping and curing cancer and adopting tiny spicy exotic babies left and right. In this movie there was none of that mess.
The filmmakers did some really clever things that I think worked extremely well. The narrative isn't linear but instead flips around, with title cards letting you know which day of the 500 Days you're on. It makes sense, though, and leads you through the story in a way that is really quite moving. And it also made me want to watch it again to see which little moments and call-backs I could catch better the second time around. One great visual involved a split-screen device that shows Tom's expectations of a reconciliation with Summer on the left and what actually happens on the right. Heartbreaking, but also very funny.
This movie also contains the most sublime moment I've seen on film all year, which occurs as Tom walks through LA after spending the night with Summer. I won't describe it to you, but I was giddy with delight. What happens is not based in reality at all, but the feeling it portrays most definitely is. And the soundtrack is great.
There were other scenes, however, that resonated in a different, slightly painful way. Because I have done some of the things Tom does here. I have been in relationships where I saw every insignificant little thing as further evidence that this guy and I were MFEO. I have been unwilling to recognize red flags. I was unwilling to actually listen to the words this person was saying and to realize that perhaps they did not bode well for our future together. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was just setting myself up to be heartbroken.
A few days after seeing the movie, GH and I listened to a podcast featuring one of the film's two writers. He talked about how in test screenings, the people who loved this movie the most were men. And how men are, unfortunately, the least likely to be the ones running out to tell their guy friends that they have GOT to check out this new romantic comedy. Except GH did because he's secure (and hot) like that.
It's true, though. He laughed even harder than I did and there were moments during Tom's angst and dejection and misery where GH just nodded his head and said, "Yep." And then I'd lean over and stroke his arm and whisper, "I'm really, really sorry. Remember how I married you in the end, though?"
