I just got back from seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 for the second time and I think I enjoyed it more than I did the first time - maybe that's because I didn't have to wait until midnight or wait in a line that wrapped around the theater for three hours before seeing it. I'm still disappointed in the handling of some of the death scenes (I think I'm even angrier about [spoiler] Weasley because they don't even show him getting killed, just disarmed and then later as a corpse) but I'm still in complete and absolute awe at the sheer spectacle of the movie.
I have this weird thing where after I eat movie popcorn I crave milk and I drink easily up to five glasses of milk (okay, not drink, guzzle) once I get home.
I have this other weird eating thing where I can only eat chips out of a freshly opened bag. I don't pour a bowl from a large bag of chips after they've been previously opened. Similarly, somewhat, I detest crumbs, specifically Pringles crumbs, so I pour out a bowl of Pringles, separate whole chips from crumbs, eat the crumbs begrudgingly, and then put the whole chips back in the bowl and carry on with my snacking.
I am addicted to Grey's Anatomy. I began watching the series two weeks ago today and now I'm on the tenth episode of the third season. Four and a half full seasons to go by the end of summer! I'm so obsessed that I began thinking about how cool it would be to be a surgeon, but I don't have the brains or the stomach of steel to do it.
Last Thursday I got so drunk at karaoke that I sang the Time Warp onstage.
I had a hardcore rap session in the car driving back from the movies tonight with three of my friends. Eminem got nothing on me.
I used to be into hardcore rap when I was in grade eight, but those were the days before I discovered hair gel (I can't believe I never used hair gel, I have the curliest hair on the planet and it's a beast to tame) and when I used to wear khakis everyday (I used to have jeans) with oversized gangster looking sweatshirts. Those were dark times. I then kinda moved into a grey phase of my music interests, dabbling here and there in the not-mainstream crap, until Lady Gaga came along.
Unlike most kids I never had that dream of the perfect job. I used to idealize being an architect, but that's only because my parents told me it'd be a good job. (it involves physics. I'm out) I used to want to be a forensic scientist but I realize now after a failed year of university in forensic science it was a pipe dream caused by watching a little bit too much TV. I fantasize about being a director or screenwriter or published author but things like that happen to the luckiest and most talented people and I'm far from being either.
I don't know what the purpose of this blog post is. (I'm not drunk I swear to god) Now you know me a bit better. Lucky you. ;)
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Have a little summer fun
It's nearing the end of July and the thought of summer vacation coming to a close sends a wave of sadness through my mind. Registration for school will require its final step on Friday (when the course limit ups from 5.0 credits to 6.0, and I need 6.0), emails have begun to flood in about applications and whatnot for the upcoming school year, and tuition and residence fees have already started to pile up and appear. I don't want the summer to end, but it's inevitable. To be perfectly honest, next to nothing makes me want to go back, aside from the idea that I'll be experiencing the residence life (that idea still terrifies me) or that I legitimately sometimes miss going to class (that longing for education is only fleeting because I bring myself down to reality and slap myself across the face - who wants school when you can do nothing all day?) or that sometimes I miss some friends. I guess I'm most looking forward to the change of pace in my routine, but even that will become stale after a while, I'm sure.
Enough about that - let's put off the unfortunate future for as long as possible. My summer hasn't actually been that stellar - it's simply rooted in me to dread the end of summer regardless of how good or bad it's been. That being said, though, it hasn't been dismal; in fact, it really has been anything but. My "un-stellar" claim comes from the fact that I haven't traveled or gone to Wonderland yet or what have you. But like I said, I look forward to the change of pace, but if anything, I'll miss the pace I have now, which mostly resembles waking up around 11am and doing nothing for a while until I look at the clock and decide it's no longer a respectable hour to still be in my pajamas and un-showered.
I remember at the beginning of May I wrote a blogpost about my aspirations for the summer months ahead of me then, and as corny as it sounds, when I reread it I can't help but already realize how different I am since writing it.
By my luck the gym I was a member of went bankrupt and closed down in the middle of June which absolutely sucked considering I was actually getting into a routine and changing my lazy ways. My friend (who I was going with) and I were adamant about finding a new gym but as the weeks went on the prices of the other gyms seemed far too steep for only two full months left of summer. If anything I'm happy I at least followed through, and now I have enough knowledge to carry with me so when I live on campus for the school year and go to the gym I won't look like a noob. I do genuinely miss doing but I don't have enough motivation (or fancy shmancy equipment at home) to carry it out by myself. The summer's supposed to be a time of vegging, anyways, isn't it?
I also wrote about how I had begun writing, and despite my standstill, I did in fact follow through with it. I realize I said I wanted to write a screenplay back in my May post, but the thought that you need a solid idea and story before writing a screenplay begged me to actually come up with a story in the first place, and I think I just went "screw it" and chose to write it as a story first and foremost. I have another story idea already swirling in my mind - in addition to the one I'm attempting to write as well as this basic concept with basic characters I've been resonating for at least a year or two - so we'll see if I ever rediscover that writing ignition like I had about a month ago. Today could be the day.
You'd think that my summer was full of procrastination and laziness, and you'd be right. I haven't picked a book up in literally months despite constantly buying new ones; I have a stack of about thirty books, which started accumulating two Christmases ago, waiting to be read, but when I feel the want to read I end up picking either 1. a book which I discover to be the first of a series of seventy so I'm obliged to buy them all and read them, or 2. Harry Potter. Instead I've spent a lot of my time watching TV online, which is basically just like books, but for dumb people. I watched four seasons of the UK show Skins a while back and still need to watch the fifth; I was roped into watching Grey's Anatomy but it's become my guilty guilty guilty pleasure and despite me not being its target audience (kinda like my Taylor Swift dilemma on my previous post) I literally can't stop. (How'd I get roped in, you say? Two of my friends are Grey's obsessed and for Halloween they've devised a plan where at their Halloween party, it's more than likely that if you're attending, you've been assigned a Grey's character to dress up as. I'm - wait for it - Patrick Dempsey. Natural fit. I'll be a part-time Dr. Derek Shepherd while being a part-time X-Men: First Class Magneto. It'll turn into a drunken me wearing scrubs and Magneto's helmet)
From everything I've said it would sound like I've been a social recluse this summer and that is far from the truth. It's sometimes difficult when your core group of friends all work constantly, and it's similarly difficult when days off don't always coincide. I see my friends as much as possible, and I'm grateful for it. In addition to that I feel like this summer I've made better friends with friends I've always had around me outside of my core group, and I'm grateful for that, too. I'd consider myself a "regular" now at a bar where a big group of us go on Thursday nights for karaoke, and while my singing voice hasn't improved (nor has my constant drunk pressing need to sing Lady Gaga), it's always a blast. I'll be camping on the first week of August, and fingers crossed that I don't flip a bike into a swamp and break my arm like I did within the first few hours of the last camping trip I've been on. I doubt it'll happen. I've traded my bike for at least two cases of beer.
All things considered I've been having a really good summer break, but it's tough to put aside what's in the near future because its become just that - the near future. The progression along the calendar seems to be in fast forward, and while I want to hang onto what I have now, I'm sure come the beginning of September I'll be looking forward to the new things ahead. I'm just as sure that if you come back here at the end of September there'll be a post complaining about school and classes and people and that I'll be begging to get back to summer.
Enough about that - let's put off the unfortunate future for as long as possible. My summer hasn't actually been that stellar - it's simply rooted in me to dread the end of summer regardless of how good or bad it's been. That being said, though, it hasn't been dismal; in fact, it really has been anything but. My "un-stellar" claim comes from the fact that I haven't traveled or gone to Wonderland yet or what have you. But like I said, I look forward to the change of pace, but if anything, I'll miss the pace I have now, which mostly resembles waking up around 11am and doing nothing for a while until I look at the clock and decide it's no longer a respectable hour to still be in my pajamas and un-showered.
I remember at the beginning of May I wrote a blogpost about my aspirations for the summer months ahead of me then, and as corny as it sounds, when I reread it I can't help but already realize how different I am since writing it.
By my luck the gym I was a member of went bankrupt and closed down in the middle of June which absolutely sucked considering I was actually getting into a routine and changing my lazy ways. My friend (who I was going with) and I were adamant about finding a new gym but as the weeks went on the prices of the other gyms seemed far too steep for only two full months left of summer. If anything I'm happy I at least followed through, and now I have enough knowledge to carry with me so when I live on campus for the school year and go to the gym I won't look like a noob. I do genuinely miss doing but I don't have enough motivation (or fancy shmancy equipment at home) to carry it out by myself. The summer's supposed to be a time of vegging, anyways, isn't it?
I also wrote about how I had begun writing, and despite my standstill, I did in fact follow through with it. I realize I said I wanted to write a screenplay back in my May post, but the thought that you need a solid idea and story before writing a screenplay begged me to actually come up with a story in the first place, and I think I just went "screw it" and chose to write it as a story first and foremost. I have another story idea already swirling in my mind - in addition to the one I'm attempting to write as well as this basic concept with basic characters I've been resonating for at least a year or two - so we'll see if I ever rediscover that writing ignition like I had about a month ago. Today could be the day.
You'd think that my summer was full of procrastination and laziness, and you'd be right. I haven't picked a book up in literally months despite constantly buying new ones; I have a stack of about thirty books, which started accumulating two Christmases ago, waiting to be read, but when I feel the want to read I end up picking either 1. a book which I discover to be the first of a series of seventy so I'm obliged to buy them all and read them, or 2. Harry Potter. Instead I've spent a lot of my time watching TV online, which is basically just like books, but for dumb people. I watched four seasons of the UK show Skins a while back and still need to watch the fifth; I was roped into watching Grey's Anatomy but it's become my guilty guilty guilty pleasure and despite me not being its target audience (kinda like my Taylor Swift dilemma on my previous post) I literally can't stop. (How'd I get roped in, you say? Two of my friends are Grey's obsessed and for Halloween they've devised a plan where at their Halloween party, it's more than likely that if you're attending, you've been assigned a Grey's character to dress up as. I'm - wait for it - Patrick Dempsey. Natural fit. I'll be a part-time Dr. Derek Shepherd while being a part-time X-Men: First Class Magneto. It'll turn into a drunken me wearing scrubs and Magneto's helmet)
From everything I've said it would sound like I've been a social recluse this summer and that is far from the truth. It's sometimes difficult when your core group of friends all work constantly, and it's similarly difficult when days off don't always coincide. I see my friends as much as possible, and I'm grateful for it. In addition to that I feel like this summer I've made better friends with friends I've always had around me outside of my core group, and I'm grateful for that, too. I'd consider myself a "regular" now at a bar where a big group of us go on Thursday nights for karaoke, and while my singing voice hasn't improved (nor has my constant drunk pressing need to sing Lady Gaga), it's always a blast. I'll be camping on the first week of August, and fingers crossed that I don't flip a bike into a swamp and break my arm like I did within the first few hours of the last camping trip I've been on. I doubt it'll happen. I've traded my bike for at least two cases of beer.
All things considered I've been having a really good summer break, but it's tough to put aside what's in the near future because its become just that - the near future. The progression along the calendar seems to be in fast forward, and while I want to hang onto what I have now, I'm sure come the beginning of September I'll be looking forward to the new things ahead. I'm just as sure that if you come back here at the end of September there'll be a post complaining about school and classes and people and that I'll be begging to get back to summer.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Speak now
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| No, not one of my pictures - I only wish I was so close! OHMYGODISN'TSHEADORABLEIWANTTOMARRYHER |
Last night - July 16th - I had the pleasure of seeing Taylor Swift live in Toronto for her Speak Now World Tour. My good friend Amy had an extra ticket and invited me to the concert; while I would say that I am just a casual fan of Taylor Swift (I'm not a fifteen year old girl so I don't exactly relate sometimes), I didn't want to pass up the chance of attending the concert, and I'm glad I did.
I've only been to three concerts in my life. I've seen Lady Gaga, Lady Gaga, and Lady Gaga. It was definitely a different experience this time - same venue, still in the 300 level as I'm so used to, similarly oriented stage, sure - but coming off of only having seen such a theatrical show as I'm used to with Gaga, seeing Taylor Swift was a nice change. Instead of Gaga's New York inspired buildings with signs like "What the fuck have you done?" and "Injured children," Taylor performed on a stage with a fairytale looking bridge with animated backgrounds; there were no elaborate dance routines or club banging songs - instead, the 21 year old ran around onstage with her guitar and banjo in cowboy boots and colourful dresses while belting out songs like Mean (it was awesome) and You Belong With Me (awesome) and Better Than Revenge (really awesome) and Dear John (the seven minute song that usually makes me want to slowly kill myself but yet, still, sang and performed very well).
With a second, smaller stage across the arena, Taylor jumped down into the crowd and - get this - stopped to hug everyone along the way. I envy the two guys who hugged her, both obviously the type who would never admit to being at a Taylor Swift concert, but who were decked out in Taylor t-shirts all the same and who gave each other a massive high five after she left them. A massive lit up tree came down from the ceiling onto the smaller stage; she sat on it with her guitar, and as it slowly revolved she sang her song Fearless while mashed-up with Jason Mraz's I'm Yours on her ukelele before "testing" us on our Canadian music by singing some Avril Lavigne, Nelly Furtado and urgh Justin Bieber. It sent the girls into a frenzy, anyhow. Back and forth she ran with high energy before ending the show with Fifteen while on an oversized couch and Love Story where she floated around the arena on a small balcony platform.
Did I stick out? Absofuckinglutely. Guys my age were sparce throughout our section, but as I listened hard enough, I could hear them singing along as loud as I was. (provided I knew the words - at most I knew all of the choruses to her songs) As I've already mentioned, I'm not exactly Taylor Swift's target audience; the crowd was made up of teenage girls with homemade painted teachers and mothers with their daughters. If anything, seeing her live has given me a new found respect for her: judging by her televised performances she isn't technically the greatest singer in the world, and I too can admit that because at times she's made me cringe. I often argued that her songwriting abilities was her strong suit, and I can only attest to that more after the concert. I speak the truth when I say that live, her voice astounded me. I never expected her to be as great as she was; filled with energy, she was pitch perfect. Her personality is absolutely infectious, too, and I couldn't help but smile every time she stopped mid sentence and looked out into the crowd with her eyes shining and genuine smile spreading across her face. This girl is down to earth and is truly astounded by the amount of fame and fandom she has and damnit she's beautiful and I want to hug her and to marry her.
I know many people who hate Taylor Swift. I realize that she's the kind of person who you either love or hate. After seeing her live, I can honestly say to the people who close-mindedly hate her because "she sucks live" or "her songs are annoying" that she is actually talented. Those same close-minded people are probably thinking to themselves "uh-huh" as they read that, and honestly, there's nothing much I can say to convince them otherwise. I'm more of a believer after the live experience. There's more talent and great music outside of the genres you deem to yourself to be good. It's undeniable that Taylor Swift is a force to be reckoned with, and I doubt she's going anywhere. As my dad always says, "it's only a matter of time before she whores out," but I can honestly say that when you see her almost break into tears every time she had to stop due to the audience being way too loud, you'll see how good her heart actually is.
All in all, I had a fantastic time and I'm glad I was able to witness such a radically different concert experience than what I was used to. The energy of being in a crowd was still as powerful as ever, and being there made me miss the whole concert experience. Damnit, Gaga, get your Born This Way Ball the fuck on the road and come back to Toronto!
Friday, July 15, 2011
End of an era
I quite literally just came back from seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. After waiting in line with my friends for over three hours and trampling the slow and weak for decent seats, I had the pleasure of watching the one defining franchise of my childhood and, well, my life, come to a close in its final form in front of me. While I experienced what felt like a devastating loss when the books came to an end, I knew that I wouldn't have to part with it entirely, what with the movies still ongoing; now, it's starting to hit me that that's it.
The film was bloody fantastic. Running on complete adrenaline the entire time, I was constantly on the edge of my seat, in awe of the surplus of intense action before me. While it got off to a slow start and at times hit minor snags (which are truthfully permissible, as such a high octane film needs room to breathe and expand past being just brainless like, say, Transformers), the payoff was immense, and it served its purpose (and more) as the send off to the series. From a cinema student's perspective, the movie was quite literally beautiful - maybe not as stunning as Half Blood Prince was (I am in love with that movie's aesthetic), but there were many shots where I found myself oohing and aahing.
The prolonged sequences of action were incredible, and in truth, the movie shot past the book in that sense, because in my opinion JK Rowling's words about the action of the final battle weren't as powerful as actually witnessing it. (I should be shot for saying that, but it's true) Spectacle after spectacle, I didn't want it to stop.
Emotionally, I did find myself at times a bit disjointed. I feel the movie's major and fatal (no pun intended) flaw lay (again.. no pun) in its handling of the deaths: while I literally cried when reading the book when [spoiler] Weasley was killed and [spoiler] + [spoiler] were mentioned as being dead in the Great Hall leaving behind a newborn baby, I didn't feel much when seeing it onscreen aside from a fleeting - very fleeting - chill. In fact, the Weasley death was quite literally a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, and the audience I was in didn't even have time to react until it showed their body surrounded by family a great deal later. My biggest problem with a changed death was a certain [spoiler], as his death was removed from the Shrieking Shack and placed in the freaking Hogwarts' boathouse - beautiful my ass - and it came off as slightly corny with the whole "look at me." I expected to cry. (now really, this is just the book purist in me bitching)
Did I cry? No, and I was expecting to bawl. I think I expected a little bit too much, but that's reasonable, and I wasn't disappointed by any means whatsoever. The closest I came to crying was during a beautifully edited scene of a certain someone's memory, and holy shit was it incredible. I was also sure I was going to lose it in the final scene, but I should've known I wouldn't, given that I loathe the 19 Years Later chapter and that's exactly how they ended it. Any emotion I had was yanked out from under me as I surpressed laughs at the main trio's - plus Ginny's - aged makeup.
My parents, among others (casual fans, not having read the books or only following the movies limply), look at me with a crooked eye when I divulge into how much Harry Potter means to me. It simply does. I read the first book in 1999, and since then bought each book the first day it was released and saw every single move on opening night; the fantasy is legendary, immersive, and I would even go as far as to admit I have many Harry Potter video games and various memorabilia including the Daily Prophet t-shirt I'm still wearing now. This franchise is ingained in me. I literally grew up with it, and I'm very sad to see it wrap up onscreen. I'm exceedingly pleased with the quality of the movie, and I'm satisfied.
God, please let me live long enough to see the movies be remade.
The film was bloody fantastic. Running on complete adrenaline the entire time, I was constantly on the edge of my seat, in awe of the surplus of intense action before me. While it got off to a slow start and at times hit minor snags (which are truthfully permissible, as such a high octane film needs room to breathe and expand past being just brainless like, say, Transformers), the payoff was immense, and it served its purpose (and more) as the send off to the series. From a cinema student's perspective, the movie was quite literally beautiful - maybe not as stunning as Half Blood Prince was (I am in love with that movie's aesthetic), but there were many shots where I found myself oohing and aahing.
The prolonged sequences of action were incredible, and in truth, the movie shot past the book in that sense, because in my opinion JK Rowling's words about the action of the final battle weren't as powerful as actually witnessing it. (I should be shot for saying that, but it's true) Spectacle after spectacle, I didn't want it to stop.
Emotionally, I did find myself at times a bit disjointed. I feel the movie's major and fatal (no pun intended) flaw lay (again.. no pun) in its handling of the deaths: while I literally cried when reading the book when [spoiler] Weasley was killed and [spoiler] + [spoiler] were mentioned as being dead in the Great Hall leaving behind a newborn baby, I didn't feel much when seeing it onscreen aside from a fleeting - very fleeting - chill. In fact, the Weasley death was quite literally a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, and the audience I was in didn't even have time to react until it showed their body surrounded by family a great deal later. My biggest problem with a changed death was a certain [spoiler], as his death was removed from the Shrieking Shack and placed in the freaking Hogwarts' boathouse - beautiful my ass - and it came off as slightly corny with the whole "look at me." I expected to cry. (now really, this is just the book purist in me bitching)
Did I cry? No, and I was expecting to bawl. I think I expected a little bit too much, but that's reasonable, and I wasn't disappointed by any means whatsoever. The closest I came to crying was during a beautifully edited scene of a certain someone's memory, and holy shit was it incredible. I was also sure I was going to lose it in the final scene, but I should've known I wouldn't, given that I loathe the 19 Years Later chapter and that's exactly how they ended it. Any emotion I had was yanked out from under me as I surpressed laughs at the main trio's - plus Ginny's - aged makeup.
My parents, among others (casual fans, not having read the books or only following the movies limply), look at me with a crooked eye when I divulge into how much Harry Potter means to me. It simply does. I read the first book in 1999, and since then bought each book the first day it was released and saw every single move on opening night; the fantasy is legendary, immersive, and I would even go as far as to admit I have many Harry Potter video games and various memorabilia including the Daily Prophet t-shirt I'm still wearing now. This franchise is ingained in me. I literally grew up with it, and I'm very sad to see it wrap up onscreen. I'm exceedingly pleased with the quality of the movie, and I'm satisfied.
God, please let me live long enough to see the movies be remade.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Holy fool
(a quick note: I've once again noticed a shift in the content and style of my blog as I so often do. In the 11 months I've had my blog, I've gone from being superficially humourous to a mix of my outlook on topics with actual weight in addition to that humour to what it is now, and what it is now, I can't exactly put a finger on. I've looked back at what I've written recently and thought to myself, "does this actually matter?" I've shifted into writing meaningless anecdotes about my life, and while I won't entirely erase that (since they are in part what makes me so special, I say), I want to revert back to my "professionalism" - by that I mean, I want to at least get back to writing something with a meaning behind it aside from being a short blurb made in aim to garner a laugh. I don't expect that to make a shard of sense)
I'm a Catholic by label. I was raised by Catholic parents (well, that's not entirely true - my dad is Catholic and my mom is Orthodox, but she made the decision to raise my sister and I as Catholics); I went to a Catholic elementary school and high school, went through all that jazz like Communion and Conformation. When I say I'm only Catholic by label, I mean that since graduating high school, my life has been anything but Catholic (or religious, for that matter) - in fact, I haven't set foot in a church for at least three years, and I feel like if I did now, I'd burst into flames.
That doesn't go to say that I was a "good" Catholic when I was still growing up in such environments: I dreaded mass at school (in elementary school, the twenty minute walk to the church; in high school, the makeshift church in the gym which reached unbearable temperature and uncomfort levels); I didn't care for my Religion classes, even though I did extremely well in them due to their easy nature. I probably broke a few of the Commandments every day - like hell I honoured my parents much when I was a teen. "No, mom and dad, I'm not going out drinking. Shut up!" I've murdered one or two people, too. (side note about Religion class in high school: looking back at it, it was a complete waste, and to be honest, I would much rather have took four other credits aside from it being mandatory every year. Really, that's logical: instead of wasting space once every year with a meaningless class, why not pick up an extra math or science class? It's only really beneficial in the end. Mind you, the solution to that would be "just go to a public school," but the closest public high school to my house is literally a crack den)
Now that I'm completely free from environments where Catholicism was enforced, I haven't been very religious at all. I've been immersed in a university setting where I'm visibly and spiritually a minority, and that experience is actually interesting to me; on campus, where Catholicism "lives on" happens to be in student groups where the only members are "die hards" and force bibles on you as you try to walk to class.
Faith is a tricky thing. I've never experienced anything massive enough in my life where I've had to turn to faith for guidance; in a sense, I'm lucky in some way, but similarly I'd say I've probably missed out somehow because I'll never be able to say that my faith in God was so strong that I was carried through something. While religion isn't overly my thing, I can only step back and truthfully appreciate those who are capable of giving everything they have into a belief for guidance in a sticky situation - that takes a lot of faith in something, and myself as a person will never be able to invest myself in something so great that I can't even convince myself exists. The extent of a situation like that would be when my Nonno passed away three years ago - I have my three other grandparents - but even then it was hard for me to feel anything. Reading that sentence without meaning would suggest I'm a very awful person: I hardly knew him as he was confined to a hospital bed for my entire life, and I can say that death brought him peace in some way. It was a very trying time for my dad (it was his father), and while the day of his passing and the funeral were very solemn times, I couldn't give myself up to the emotion of divinity or even to the thought of an afterlife.
That, perhaps, is one of the bigger factors in my mistrust in religion: as I've already said, it's difficult for me to invest myself in something I don't know is concrete, and truthfully, the idea of Heaven and Hell sometimes feels foolish to me, and I'm not entirely sure something like that exists. I'd like to, but I hate thinking about death, about the thought that there's nothing, and you're simply gone. Perhaps aside from that, I can't get myself into the "ritualism" of my religion; as I've said, I dislike church, and I can't help but sometimes feel it's cult-ish. I'd never vow to myself to lead a sinless life, because come on, I swear I've committed twenty sins in some shape since waking up two hours ago. I can't continually turn for repentance when sin is ingrained in my being.
Am I an atheist? No. To be perfectly honest something about atheism rubs me the wrong way because more often times than not I encounter self proclaimed atheists who become pretentious pricks in their "ha, you believe in a God?" claims. In a similar vein, I don't shit on other religions, because everyone is entitled to their beliefs - only when religions "fight" with each other (and by that I mean when one chooses superiority) am I bothered. I would say that there is probably something, someone, some deity that created everything you see around you: the idea of life just baffles me, and my confusion is only tripled when I think that it came out of nowhere. I just know that everything is not a result of nothing; rather, it's all a result of something, but I can't imagine what.
Religion just isn't for me. I'm not open-minded enough to give myself completely to faith, and I'm okay with that: my life isn't dictated by faith, and I don't let religious topics bother me. (unless I'm blogging right here and now) I'm the type to require fact, and religion is just too devoid of proof for me to buy into. Much like Casey Anthony's prosecution - not enough evidence! (too soon?)
I'm a Catholic by label. I was raised by Catholic parents (well, that's not entirely true - my dad is Catholic and my mom is Orthodox, but she made the decision to raise my sister and I as Catholics); I went to a Catholic elementary school and high school, went through all that jazz like Communion and Conformation. When I say I'm only Catholic by label, I mean that since graduating high school, my life has been anything but Catholic (or religious, for that matter) - in fact, I haven't set foot in a church for at least three years, and I feel like if I did now, I'd burst into flames.
That doesn't go to say that I was a "good" Catholic when I was still growing up in such environments: I dreaded mass at school (in elementary school, the twenty minute walk to the church; in high school, the makeshift church in the gym which reached unbearable temperature and uncomfort levels); I didn't care for my Religion classes, even though I did extremely well in them due to their easy nature. I probably broke a few of the Commandments every day - like hell I honoured my parents much when I was a teen. "No, mom and dad, I'm not going out drinking. Shut up!" I've murdered one or two people, too. (side note about Religion class in high school: looking back at it, it was a complete waste, and to be honest, I would much rather have took four other credits aside from it being mandatory every year. Really, that's logical: instead of wasting space once every year with a meaningless class, why not pick up an extra math or science class? It's only really beneficial in the end. Mind you, the solution to that would be "just go to a public school," but the closest public high school to my house is literally a crack den)
Now that I'm completely free from environments where Catholicism was enforced, I haven't been very religious at all. I've been immersed in a university setting where I'm visibly and spiritually a minority, and that experience is actually interesting to me; on campus, where Catholicism "lives on" happens to be in student groups where the only members are "die hards" and force bibles on you as you try to walk to class.
Faith is a tricky thing. I've never experienced anything massive enough in my life where I've had to turn to faith for guidance; in a sense, I'm lucky in some way, but similarly I'd say I've probably missed out somehow because I'll never be able to say that my faith in God was so strong that I was carried through something. While religion isn't overly my thing, I can only step back and truthfully appreciate those who are capable of giving everything they have into a belief for guidance in a sticky situation - that takes a lot of faith in something, and myself as a person will never be able to invest myself in something so great that I can't even convince myself exists. The extent of a situation like that would be when my Nonno passed away three years ago - I have my three other grandparents - but even then it was hard for me to feel anything. Reading that sentence without meaning would suggest I'm a very awful person: I hardly knew him as he was confined to a hospital bed for my entire life, and I can say that death brought him peace in some way. It was a very trying time for my dad (it was his father), and while the day of his passing and the funeral were very solemn times, I couldn't give myself up to the emotion of divinity or even to the thought of an afterlife.
That, perhaps, is one of the bigger factors in my mistrust in religion: as I've already said, it's difficult for me to invest myself in something I don't know is concrete, and truthfully, the idea of Heaven and Hell sometimes feels foolish to me, and I'm not entirely sure something like that exists. I'd like to, but I hate thinking about death, about the thought that there's nothing, and you're simply gone. Perhaps aside from that, I can't get myself into the "ritualism" of my religion; as I've said, I dislike church, and I can't help but sometimes feel it's cult-ish. I'd never vow to myself to lead a sinless life, because come on, I swear I've committed twenty sins in some shape since waking up two hours ago. I can't continually turn for repentance when sin is ingrained in my being.
Am I an atheist? No. To be perfectly honest something about atheism rubs me the wrong way because more often times than not I encounter self proclaimed atheists who become pretentious pricks in their "ha, you believe in a God?" claims. In a similar vein, I don't shit on other religions, because everyone is entitled to their beliefs - only when religions "fight" with each other (and by that I mean when one chooses superiority) am I bothered. I would say that there is probably something, someone, some deity that created everything you see around you: the idea of life just baffles me, and my confusion is only tripled when I think that it came out of nowhere. I just know that everything is not a result of nothing; rather, it's all a result of something, but I can't imagine what.
Religion just isn't for me. I'm not open-minded enough to give myself completely to faith, and I'm okay with that: my life isn't dictated by faith, and I don't let religious topics bother me. (unless I'm blogging right here and now) I'm the type to require fact, and religion is just too devoid of proof for me to buy into. Much like Casey Anthony's prosecution - not enough evidence! (too soon?)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Born to Slay
It's been a little over a month since Lady Gaga's third album Born This Way was released. I never got the chance to write a review of the album, and every time I'm on blogger or thinking of my blog I think to myself, "damn, that's a void I need to fill." Hence, here I am: I'll be giving my thoughts on the CD now that I've had a month with it and now that my opinions and outlooks on songs have changed - some for the better, or some for the worse.
In a broad sense, it was unreal to finally have new music. I'm a massive, massive Gaga fan, and that's no secret to anyone; time drags on without anything fresh, and while I'm the first to recognize that she needs time away from the spotlight to avoid overexposure, I was itching for something new. As a whole, BTW is fantastic, though it isn't perfect, nor is it the greatest album of the decade as it was touted before its release. (that is the album's downfall: unbelievably high standards that, even if it was flawless, would be impossible to meet)
The album opens with Marry the Night which is incredible letdown. It was one of my most anticipated songs and everything about it comes across as underwhelming for me; I like that it's daring enough to change up the beat after a "fake-out" ending - and by that I mean conventionally the song ends with a final chorus before it kicks into an entirely different tempo with an extended outro; it isn't enough to save the great expectations I had, but so be it, as I see this as a future single. Born This Way itself follows, and while I'm glad it did it's job as a lead single and garnered great success, it's just not my favourite. Perhaps its just too corny for me. The final real personal "letdown" is the third track, Government Hooker, merely because she used a remix of the song for a fashion show months ago and the final version was almost identical - in that sense I was only disappointed because it wasn't fresh to me. It is, still, a great song, and I particularly like the obnoxious bleep censoring in the final lines as well as the filthiness of the lyrics overall. You'd think I'd hate the album after disliking the first three songs, eh?
Judas is next, and the album kicks into high gear. I've already detailed my thoughts on Judas here on my blog, and nothing's changed; I love it all the same, if not more, since the video is the best she's made. Americano, the fifth song, a Mariachi inspired dance powerhouse with a killer beat and instantly catchy hooks (la la la la la la la, anyone?), is perhaps among my top three Gaga songs of all time, if not my favourite Gaga song ever, even though it's ridiculously cheesy; Hair screams single potential despite its unique manufacturing (and by that I mean the first verse is like a ballad, the second verse is onwards has a dance beat, and the whole song features a saxophone), and the song is only heightened by the sheer excellence of her live acoustic performances of it. Seriously, Youtube any acoustic performance of Hair - maybe the one in Singapore, where she literally cries when the crowd belts out the lyrics to her, and I swear to god if my heart wasn't made of adamantium I would've cried too (I got massive chills, though). Scheiße is amazing. The beat is ridiculous. Mark my words, it's the next single, and it will be huge, aside from my paranoia about the profanity - it is, after all, named the German word for "shit."
The eighth song, Bloody Mary: holy shit. Hands down the finest song she has ever, ever written. Lyrically, it's incredible; its sound is haunting. I look at Bloody Mary like I consider Dance in the Dark to be the high point of The Fame Monster; dark, not overly radio appropriate, though bloody incredible, and almost "unknown" to the point where it's a personal gift to the fans, unspoiled by overexposure on the radio. I adore this song.
And so we hit our sang. Black Jesus † Amen Fashion, the first of three bonus tracks, is too misguided for me to like it, even though it still is bearable to listen to; I try to like Bad Kids as hard as I can, but it too underwhelms me, given that the hard attitude of the verses is completely yanked away by the overtly bubblegum choruses; the second bonus song, Fashion of His Love, is easily my least favourite of the entire album, and I look at is as just plain awful. The 80s sound to it doesn't do it for me, nor do the undeniable similarities to Whitney Houston; I do like, however, that she uses a verse from an unreleased song of hers called Earthquake which I adore. It isn't enough to save the song for me, though, and I would go as far as saying I do hate it.
The album regains its momentum with Highway Unicorn (Road to Love); this song in particular was a standout to me given that I completely wrote it off before listening to it just because of its stupid title. Instead, it sounds in the vein of Poker Face, and the multitude of hooks keep it continuously fresh. Heavy Metal Lover has quickly become one of my all time favourites, but unlike Americano, it took a while to grow on me. The song reminds me so much of her first CD The Fame, and the cool vocal style and lyrics coupled with a great beat makes it amazing. Electric Chapel, aside from the bonus tracks, is the only song I look at as album filler, but even then, it's still a great song, and only recently has it started to creep up in my mind more and more much like HML did, and who knows, after playing it on end to get it out of my system, I'll probably adore it.
The Queen is just awful. I like the direction of her lyrics (an ode to the fans, beautifully written at times, too, but the sound is bad) but it comes off as, simply, awful. (it's extremely off putting where instead of a post-chorus she sings "the que-ee-ee-ee-e-e-een, que-que-queen, que-que-queen, que-que-queeeen." Bloody terrible) I only enjoy the song as it switches tempo much like Marry the Night; if the entire song was slow with the guitar, I'd love it. It's a treat to finally have Yoü & I officially, but nothing can compare to hearing it live, as I've had the pleasure of hearing it. The album comes to a close with The Edge of Glory which is beautiful. While I'm not overly thrilled it became the third single (even though it's very successful), and while I absolutely loathe the video (utter, utter shit), I love the song dearly.
Do not miss: Bloody Mary, Americano, Heavy Metal Lover, Scheiße, Highway Unicorn (Road to Love), The Edge of Glory, Hair
There you have it. An overlong and overdue review of Born This Way. As I said before, it's a solid entry to her repertoire, despite some missteps which are easily remedied by the skip button. No, it isn't the greatest album of the decade, but it's way up there, and I'm more than okay with knowing that these seventeen songs (save some) are the songs I'll tide myself over with until her next release - I'm not greedy; I know it'll be in a few years. It'll be worth the wait if it's anything like this was. Waaaa-aaaah, waaaaa-aaaa-aaahhh, Americanoooo!
(I would also like to say: I am no longer going to mention Lady Gaga on my blog, or at least, it won't be as frequently, which I realize has happened and I swear to you, while I am a huge fan, she does not run my life)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Technology for dummies
It seems like absolutely everything I own is dying. Every piece of technology I have is dying, and it makes me sad.
I liken my iPod to an elderly person: it knows its time is coming. (that was very ruthless) I've had my Touch iPod for over two years now, as I bought it for myself on my 18th birthday - with my own money, no less. A few months ago I accidentally dropped my iPod flat, screen down, on my tiled kitchen floor, and for some reason that drop was a fatal injury. And so appeared the infamous spider web crack across the whole screen. I popped sixty dollars (not too bad) to fix the screen after a month of looking at it with a frown across my face; they did a very good job. Now, though, when I apply pressure to the left side of the screen - so, pretty much, when I brush the Touch iPod with my touch - it makes an awful static noise which I can't imagine is any good. Whenever I play my Born This Way Revenge game (...yup) and I'm tapping to the beat for points, all I hear is crazy static over the music. To add to that, my iPod no longer registers my alarm clock dock, so I more often than not wake up to a completely dead battery despite "charging" it all night long.
My laptop - praise Jesus it's working right now - has experienced so many viruses it's ridiculous. I usually get them when trying to watch things online, yet I never learn. My internet protection has expired, so I'm using some program I found off Google, which is just swell. (huh, when you type Google without a capital G, it's recognized as spelled incorrectly. Pretentious) The port in which to charge it rarely works, and when it does work, the power cable needs to be at the exact perfect position to even register a charge. Now, my laptop rattles. It physically rattles. I'm praying to god it's only something caught in the fan, but due to my paranoid Googling, it could be my hard drive, and with every passing minute I cringe at the idea of losing all of my files and music and play counts on iTunes. (fun fact. 16/25 Most Played Songs on my iTunes are Lady Gaga; every song from her Fame Monster CD has +100 plays, and Born This Way is nearing that, only I hate some songs; my highest played song is Alejandro with - wait - 849 plays. I'd be devastated to lose all that) I'm planning on backing everything up on an external hard drive, just in case.
For as much time that I spend on my computer, I am technologically impaired. I have the worst luck. For some reason, my parents equate lots of time on the computer with being a computer whiz, and they're usually like "go work at Best Buy or at a computer support place!" but no thanks. I don't know my way around computer parts or intricate programs or upgrades; hell, I'm usually either on Facebook or building houses on the Sims 3 when I'm on my computer. Unless someone had an issue with the walls of their Sims' dream house, I'll be no help. (I've been so bored this summer that I built the X-Mansion and made my family up of Xavier and Erik and the characters from First Class. Oh, dear god)
Things are on the up and up. My parents finally bought a PS3, and when my sister isn't playing NHL '11 like a madwoman, I'm shooting zombie after zombie on Resident Evil 5 which I've been dying to play since it came out. (I only have a rusty PS2 which actually doesn't even work now, either. Oh, and a Wii. But the novelty wore out the evening of the Christmas we got it) I'm thinking I'll try to smuggle the PS3 out with me when I move out in September. Fingers crossed.
I liken my iPod to an elderly person: it knows its time is coming. (that was very ruthless) I've had my Touch iPod for over two years now, as I bought it for myself on my 18th birthday - with my own money, no less. A few months ago I accidentally dropped my iPod flat, screen down, on my tiled kitchen floor, and for some reason that drop was a fatal injury. And so appeared the infamous spider web crack across the whole screen. I popped sixty dollars (not too bad) to fix the screen after a month of looking at it with a frown across my face; they did a very good job. Now, though, when I apply pressure to the left side of the screen - so, pretty much, when I brush the Touch iPod with my touch - it makes an awful static noise which I can't imagine is any good. Whenever I play my Born This Way Revenge game (...yup) and I'm tapping to the beat for points, all I hear is crazy static over the music. To add to that, my iPod no longer registers my alarm clock dock, so I more often than not wake up to a completely dead battery despite "charging" it all night long.
My laptop - praise Jesus it's working right now - has experienced so many viruses it's ridiculous. I usually get them when trying to watch things online, yet I never learn. My internet protection has expired, so I'm using some program I found off Google, which is just swell. (huh, when you type Google without a capital G, it's recognized as spelled incorrectly. Pretentious) The port in which to charge it rarely works, and when it does work, the power cable needs to be at the exact perfect position to even register a charge. Now, my laptop rattles. It physically rattles. I'm praying to god it's only something caught in the fan, but due to my paranoid Googling, it could be my hard drive, and with every passing minute I cringe at the idea of losing all of my files and music and play counts on iTunes. (fun fact. 16/25 Most Played Songs on my iTunes are Lady Gaga; every song from her Fame Monster CD has +100 plays, and Born This Way is nearing that, only I hate some songs; my highest played song is Alejandro with - wait - 849 plays. I'd be devastated to lose all that) I'm planning on backing everything up on an external hard drive, just in case.
For as much time that I spend on my computer, I am technologically impaired. I have the worst luck. For some reason, my parents equate lots of time on the computer with being a computer whiz, and they're usually like "go work at Best Buy or at a computer support place!" but no thanks. I don't know my way around computer parts or intricate programs or upgrades; hell, I'm usually either on Facebook or building houses on the Sims 3 when I'm on my computer. Unless someone had an issue with the walls of their Sims' dream house, I'll be no help. (I've been so bored this summer that I built the X-Mansion and made my family up of Xavier and Erik and the characters from First Class. Oh, dear god)
Things are on the up and up. My parents finally bought a PS3, and when my sister isn't playing NHL '11 like a madwoman, I'm shooting zombie after zombie on Resident Evil 5 which I've been dying to play since it came out. (I only have a rusty PS2 which actually doesn't even work now, either. Oh, and a Wii. But the novelty wore out the evening of the Christmas we got it) I'm thinking I'll try to smuggle the PS3 out with me when I move out in September. Fingers crossed.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
These people are crazy
I'm absolutely fascinated by the A&E show Hoarders which I've only recently discovered. I'd be lying if I said I didn't spend the day today watching the marathon aside from having to work. In fact, it's on right now, and I'm watching some insane old woman with hundreds of chickens and other malnourished and abused animals as well as some aggressive guy with rabbits who roam around his house and eat through the walls.
I have this persistent want to vomit as I watch every episode, absolutely astounded by the level of filth these people have let their houses get to. It's unfathomable to me that a person is capable of letting their house deteriorate to such states which are shown; I saw an episode where a decrepit old woman lived in five feet of garbage and that is disgusting. The thought of even a single food wrapper sitting out on my dresser makes me uneasy - I can't imagine being psychologically incapable of throwing anything out or spending so much money on a single obsession that you're literally swimming in it. (I'm referring to this batty old lady who hoarded thousands of stuffed animals)
I guess, in some strange way, I do feel bad for these people. I feel bad because their hoarding is rooted in a mental inability to part with things, or to collect massive amounts of things, or what have you. My sympathy is completely erased when these people become psychotic: if you refuse to clean out your house even after the law has told you they're going to remove your children from you, and if you become violent when others try to help you throw things out, you're deranged. In respect to the episode I'm watching now, the old woman with the hundreds of abused animals is absolutely despicable, and I'm disgusted as she violently insists her chickens are happy as the camera pans over easily ten chickens living per cage never being let out.
I don't quite know why I'm so fascinated with this show. Maybe it's because some of these people are trainwrecks. Reality at its finest.
I have this persistent want to vomit as I watch every episode, absolutely astounded by the level of filth these people have let their houses get to. It's unfathomable to me that a person is capable of letting their house deteriorate to such states which are shown; I saw an episode where a decrepit old woman lived in five feet of garbage and that is disgusting. The thought of even a single food wrapper sitting out on my dresser makes me uneasy - I can't imagine being psychologically incapable of throwing anything out or spending so much money on a single obsession that you're literally swimming in it. (I'm referring to this batty old lady who hoarded thousands of stuffed animals)
I guess, in some strange way, I do feel bad for these people. I feel bad because their hoarding is rooted in a mental inability to part with things, or to collect massive amounts of things, or what have you. My sympathy is completely erased when these people become psychotic: if you refuse to clean out your house even after the law has told you they're going to remove your children from you, and if you become violent when others try to help you throw things out, you're deranged. In respect to the episode I'm watching now, the old woman with the hundreds of abused animals is absolutely despicable, and I'm disgusted as she violently insists her chickens are happy as the camera pans over easily ten chickens living per cage never being let out.
I don't quite know why I'm so fascinated with this show. Maybe it's because some of these people are trainwrecks. Reality at its finest.
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