Saturday, 31 August 2013

Favourite Scenes of Favourite Films #2

So, if you read this blog you know I've mentioned this film before. And if you've been reading this blog for a while you probably know my obsession with relationships that don't work. This clip, this film, sums it all up. 

Favourite Scenes of Favourite Films #1

'Revolutionary Road', Sam Mendes. Hated it the first time I watched it. Fell in love the second time. Why I watched it for a second time, I have no idea but I'm glad I did. 

Their Rules

The other day I was re-reading what I had written of a short story I'm working on called 'Tables on Chairs'. What I had was too long, too pathetic so I cut it. I cut over a hundred words, some of which I actually really liked but didn't work. I cut a bit where the main character talked about why he is unhappy in his marriage. He says how when he met his wife they had a way they did things - their rules - but time went by and it became her rules. The reason I love this video of Cristina and Owen - my favourite couple ever - is because it's all about it being their rules. The convention of being married ruined them - among other things - and this is their attempt to bring it back to the way they do things, their rules. Whether it works or not, well I'm not going to ruin that for anyone who hasn't finished the season. 

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Magic Number

I was having lunch today and the topic of sex came up. The numbers game. The magic numbers game. "What's your magic number?" is a question that means "how many people have you slept with?" It comes back, usually, with the question "what do you class as sex?" There seem to be a few classes:

1) Penetrative. In which case something is inserted into a woman's vagina or a man's asshole. 
2) Fooling around. In which case  said people usually participate in oral sex.
3)  Heavy petting. Which is not really a class but more something I thought I should throw in, just in case. 

Numbers were passed around the table. Numbers which will - for the benefit of those around the table - not be revealed. Later that day I went off to interview a musician that I know, Calum Ross, about his bands The Scarlets and The Magic Rooster Brothers and as I walked home, listening to Daughter, all I could think about was an essay I have been trying to write for a while called 'Sexual Desires', a kind of non-fiction/memoir/thoughts/collections/experiences of sexual activities. I got home, wrote the post prior and then looked  at my essay and thought...I need to work on this. So, I shall.

I was thinking about when writers are asked where do their ideas come from and thought that ideas are like brush-strokes, you do one, then another, then another and you just forget which one was the first. Luckily, I'll now remember where this sudden drive to write these essays came from and that I will post the majority of them here but until then...more brush strokes, I feel. 

Our Polite Society: 5 Things Being Polite Causes

1) Moving for people in the street.

You're engrossed in your music. Your phone goes off, you look down and tap away and then look up - oh shit, someone's going to walk into me. They think the same thing, spot the same thing and move to the right. But at that moment so have they. You move to the left. So do they. Now you're both standing in front of each other, moving, standing in front of each other once again. Until one of you has the balls to stop and you walk forward, embarrassed, flushed, screw my polite self. 

2) Saying 'Bye' Before The Train Door Opens

So you're on the train with your friend and your stop is coming up. You now need to stop talking about Saturday night, get up and head to the door. You do it with plenty of time. Wrap up. "Bye." Walk to the door. But you gave yourself too much time and now you have to stand awkwardly in front of the door. You look, the wide eyed "see you later" look and the doors still don't open. *Sigh* Then they do and you rush off, walk to the bit with the ticket and your friend whips past you again. Do you turn and say bye or simply walk? 

3) Joining Queues

You need to buy your toothpaste and the self-service machine is inches away from you but there's a queue - people standing one behind the other, waiting. So you join it. Naturally you join it. This has to be the queue for what you wanted. Why else would there be a queue? 

People in the UK are notorious for joining random ques. A few months ago my friend Sam and I joined a queue for the train and Sam noticed there was a self-service machine not being touched. He stood out of the queue and walked, bought his ticket and off he went. A shared look of disgust and fury came between all of those that stood in the queue. How dare this manic do the logical thing? 

4) Eating Food You Hate Because You Don't Want To Be 'That Person'

You're at a friends house and they're cooking lasagna but you hate lasagna  You love spaghetti bolognaise, they've seen you eat it hundreds of times but you hate lasagna  It's the sloppy texture, the fact that you have lettuce with pasta. But you don't want to be 'that person' so you sit there, miserably, sadly, eating something when you really want to vomit. 

5) Saying 'no' when you really mean 'yes'

It's Sunday. You're tucking into your chicken and roast potatoes, then someone says "does anyone want the last Yorkshire pudding?" A shared look of want fills each members eyes. Yes they want the last Yorkshire pudding. They just didn't want to be the selfish bastard that reached over and chucked it on their plate. Yes, of course, they want it. They all want it. But you've asked. They can't say "yes I do." So they say "no" and watch you eat it with a hint of hatred. 

Friday, 23 August 2013

A Great Speech

"I know people die. People die in front of us every day. But Meredith will survive this. I believe - I - I believe in the good. I believe that it's been a hell of a year, and I believe that in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we'll all be okay. I believe a lot of things. I believe that - I believe that Denny is always with me. And I believe that if I eat a tub of butter and no one sees me, then calories don't count. And I believe that surgeons who prefer staples over stitches are just lazy ... And I believe that you are a man who made a terrible mistake marrying Callie. And I believe that because I am your best friend, I can tell you this and we can be okay. I believe that even though you made this mistake, you will be okay. I believe we survive, George. I believe that believing we survive is what makes us survive."

I love this speech. It's from my favourite TV show 'Grey's Anatomy' and speaks volumes by such simple words and simple things. Simple is something I have neglected in my writing. Melodrama is something my past self loved. Simple is far crueler. 

Imagine the scene: A woman and her husband are together for twenty years. Then they break up. The melodramatic reason is that the husband has started a cycle of affairs and has fallen madly in love with one of them. He says he loves his wife but he loves this woman and doesn't recognize himself and must leave and clear his head. Tragic, yes. 

Imagine this: A woman and her husband are together for twenty years. Then they break up. The husband says "I just don't have feelings for you anymore." And that's that. 

Collection (n.late collection)

Once again, it's been a while. The long hours I seem to be doing at the shop and then coming home to a pile of boxes I am still living out of and a bed that might as well be on the floor has made me neglect my blog...once again. However, a tiny update is needed and here are some pictures I like. 

The story behind this is that a few months ago I was writing and I was thirsty and a sudden thought came to me. 'All the good writers drink when they're writing.' So, foolishly, I went to the shop, bought two bottles of wine and poured myself a glass. It went down quickly and the writing flowed until I knocked an entire glass into my laptop and potiently destroyed all of my work. By doing this I lost a lot of my photos but managed to salvage some. Here they are:

(Moral of the story: no wine near laptops, please.)