So, I planned to start with “Out of Africa” because that’s the first movie that I queued up on Netflix.  However, I found a copy of Million Dollar baby laying around (which definitely isn’t mine because it’s the Full Screen version. I don’t know why anyone ever would buy full screen movies, and I can’t even remember who I’m insulting because I can’t remember who I borrowed it from) and decided to watch it.

I can definitely say that this is one movie I have never been excited to watch. I wasn’t that crazy about the idea of the film in general, the fact that it’s about boxing, and the fact that the ending was ruined for me long ago, which I HATE.  My dad would say that it doesn’t matter if you know the ending, because you don’t know the path that will be taken to get there. However, I think knowing the ending taints your entire experience as a viewer and affects your outlook, impressions, thoughts, and observations along the way – how could it not? I like to be a blank slate going into a movie.

So, now that I’ve finally finished watching it, I’ll say this: I think I’m supposed to love this movie a lot more than I did.

SPOILER ALERT – by the way, I think it goes without saying, that I am going to be talking about these movies and probably ruining things for you if you haven’t seen them.  So don’t read this if you don’t want anything ruined.

There are a few things that definitely may have contributed to my lack luster impression, such as the fact that I already knew she died in the end, the fact that I watched it in four separate chunks because I kept falling asleep or having to do other things, and the fact that boxing could be my least favorite sport of all time.  However, I did really love The Fighter, so maybe that’s not a valid point.

I thought Hilary Swank did a great job, but I’m pretty sure Clint Eastwood must play the same character in every movie.  I guess I’m not really in a position to say that, seeing as how my experience with him is fairly limited – ok, extremely limited AKA I’ve only ever seen him in Gran Torino (which I loved.) At least I think I’ve only seen him in these two movies. I’m not really a Western sort of gal (I’m kind of dreading Unforgiven.) He’s definitely got the grouchy old man who warms up and whose personality comes alive by the end of the movie thing down.

There was just about no shot in the movie that didn’t have dark, hard, exaggerated shadows. Most of the time the characters’ faces would be half light and half shadow. I think my ability to judge the cinematography was definitely inhibited by the piss poor quality of the DVD I watched, which was automatically stretched out and horrible due to its full-screenness. I will say, that I think Clint Eastwood may be a better director than actor at this point.

I don’t really understand how his character got away with what he did at the end. It seems like someone would have noticed and there would have been some repercussions.

The story was good and definitely affected me emotionally, but man is it depressing. This really reinforces the fact that being a quadriplegic is just about one of the worst things in the world.  I can’t even imagine it.  It’s so sad and depressing and tragic.

So anyway, I’m not really a film critic, but those are my initial thoughts.  One best picture winner down, and I can’t remember how many more to go…50 something. Out of Africa came today in the mail, so that’s coming up next. I wonder how long it will take me to do this? Not long at this rate!

–> But I’m doing a blog post

And I have revamped my site a little bit – you’ll understand why in a minute.

Today, while I was sitting in the theater waiting for Anna Karenina (which SUCKED by the way) to start, I was looking at Oscar nominees. For the last couple of years I have tried to watch all the nominees for Best Picture, because I like the challenge, and I like movies. I thought I successfully did this two years in a row, but I realized I missed seeing two of the nominees last year (Hugo and War Horse). So I guess, technically, I’ve only ever done this once successfully, but I’m trying to make it a thing – so just cut me some slack.

This year, the top contenders seem to be:

Lincoln
Les Miserables
Silver Linings Playbook
Zero Dark Thirty
Argo

and other possibilities:
Life of Pi
Django Unchained
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Moonrise Kingdom
The Master

Of the top 5, I’ve only seen 2 at this point.
Of the top 10, I’ve only seen 3.

Yikes. I have until February though – it can be done.

Anyway, back to the story I originally intended to tell, which I haven’t even started telling yet. Andrea and I were looking at the list of movies that have won Best Picture throughout the years, and I realized that there are TONS I haven’t seen. So, I’m going to switch my Netflix subscription from streaming for awhile (not because I’m too cheap to pay the 7.99 additional fee to add the discs, but because I’m not going to give Netflix the satisfaction of getting my extra money after what they did when they changed their plans) and watch the Best Picture winners I haven’t seen.

And there are A LOT I haven’t seen.

Which reminded me of the blog/movie Julie and Julia.

Except this will be “Oscar and Tonya: One girl’s mission to watch a lot of Best Picture winners for no other reason than to say she saw them all” Good title…(ha! a reference to an Oscar winner right out of the gates! amazing) This would probably be much catchier if my name was Olive or Oscarina or something like that, but this isn’t Hollywood, so it will have to do.

Here is a link to the Academy’s web page for all the Best Picture winners in case you care:
http://www.oscars.org/awards/academyawards/legacy/best-pictures.html

Out of the 84 Best Picture Winners, I have seen a total of 29. This leaves a total of 55 movies for me to watch (along with all my current nominees for this year and next.)  This could get expensive…I haven’t checked into how many of these are available through Netflix.

The Best Picture winners I have seen so far are:
2011 – The Artist
2010 – The King’s Speech
2007 – No Country for Old Men
2006 – The Departed
2005 – Crash
2001 – A Beautiful Mind
2000 – Gladiator
1999 – American Beauty
1998 – Shakespeare in Love
1997 – Titanic
1995 – Braveheart
1994 – Forrest Gump
1993 – Schindler’s List
1991 – The Silence of the Lambs
1990 – Dances with Wolves
1989 – Driving Miss Daisy
1988 – Rain Main
1987 – The Last Emperor
1986 – Platoon
1984 – Amadeus
1980 – Ordinary People
1978 – The Deer Hunter
1965 – The Sound of Music
1961 – West Side Story
1957 – The Bridge on the River Kwai
1943 – Casablanca
1939 – Gone With the Wind
1935 – Mutiny on the Bounty
1931/1932 – Grand Hotel

Now, I also think I may have seen Kramer vs. Kramer (1979) and All Quiet on the Western Front (1929/30), but I can’t say it definitively, so I won’t count them.

I don’t think I’ll go in any particular order, especially since if I save all the ones from the 20’s and 30’s for last, I’m likely to go broke if they aren’t on Netflix.  Actually, I take that back – they are pretty much all on there. Bonus.

For some reason, Out of Africa (1985) and Annie Hall (1977) are jumping out at me as the ones I should get first. So my next post will be about one of those.

I watch a lot of movies. I figure having a little purpose for myself will make me feel like I’m getting something accomplished 🙂

Sometimes I flip through the notebook that I keep for writing with my kids when I give them a prompt, and realize that I write a lot of things that I forget that I wrote. I have a lot of beginnings, and a lot of unfinished thoughts. I found one today that hit me so hard I nearly burst into tears, which is the same sort of way I felt on the day I started this. It was unfinished, because I ran out of time, but I think it’s a thought I need to finish.

The assignment I gave my kids that day was to choose one line from a random autobiography quickwrite we had done, and do some more writing about that single line. My single line was:

“My uncle died of cancer and our family will never be the same without his laugh”

This is the rest:

I miss you.

It startles me how much sometimes. I can go for long stretches of forgetting, well, not forgetting but of being distracted by life. I will never totally forget, although I guess that we have a way of blocking out things that hurt too much.

When I saw Gigi wish you a happy 65th birthday, or would-be birthday, on facebook, I felt like I stopped, like my heart stopped, froze, remembered the excruciating truth of your gone-ness. Time slowed to a painful drip, and I was unable to move. Sometimes a moment hits you hard, like the cliched punch in your gut. Memory, strong and sudden, has a way of opening up the scars on your heart without mercy, like the wounds are fresh instead of slowly scabbed over and finally bearable.

65? I can’t picture you that old, can’t believe that would-be number implies all those years without you have gone by. Your laugh filled up a room, rooms that seem empty now without you.

Our family isn’t and wasn’t the kissing, hugging, I love you sort of bunch. But, I loved you. I love you still, and I would plant the biggest kiss on your prickly cheek if I had the chance to now.

I visit your grave sometimes, which I hope you know, because I can’t stand the thought of something as wonderful as you ceasing to exist. I cling to the thought that you are still with us, on some other plane, some realm my brain can’t find a way to process or connect to – yet. My heart, and my gut force me to believe you are not gone even though it is so painfully true that our lives will never be the same without you.

On Brandon and Cheryl’s wedding day, I cried in the church. Not because I was happy, which I was, but because your memory washed over me like a flood and I felt the sadness of missing you hanging so heavy in the rafters that I couldn’t breathe. You should have been there. I hope you were there, but I couldn’t help but mourn your physical absence on your son’s big day. I know you would have been gushing and glowing, just like Aunt Regina. I sure would have loved to see you strolling her down the aisle, and I would have given anything to see you filling in the gap of that first pew where you absence was felt by many.

I miss you. It startles me how much sometimes, but I really don’t know how to stop these moments as they come, the ones that jar me every time with their intensity, the ones that make me wonder how your wife, your children must feel if I feel like this. I guess I never will be able to stop them, and that’s ok because remembering you is all that I have now. “Well, isn’t that something?”

I miss you.

Penny Kittle is a teacher at Kennett High School, and I took one of her seminars last year. I think she is fantastic. I found this question/answer in some of her materials, and it couldn’t be more perfect.

Q. How do you work with an administrator who thinks the only important things in writing are grammar, punctuation, and spelling?

A. I remember a middle school principal I had years ago. She was a smart woman, but when I started teaching seventh grade she gave me a grammar textbook as curriculum. I took it home that night and went back the next morning with a sticky note of ques- tions. I asked her, “What’s a gerund and when was the last time you used one? Do you know what an appositive does in a sentence?” She laughed and admitted she had no idea. We then talked about what students at the school needed to learn, and she let me go on with my work. I made a point to show her how I taught and assessed mechanics in class and to show her the progress students were making with the writing workshop approach.

Seemed fairly relevant to my life right now, and it’s nice to be reminded that there are so many people out there that “get it.”

Today was my first day with the kids in Alton. Overwhelming but great at the same time. My day started with the principal seeking me out, checking in with me, making sure I didn’t have any questions or needs, and wishing me a great first day. I told her I wasn’t used to that. She smiled and told told me I should get used to it. I think I will 🙂 I also couldn’t ask for better teammates who have gone above and beyond to make sure I am on board and not floundering.

Tonight I’m thinking about my former co-workers from Strafford, who I love so much, and hoping that their first day is fantastic tomorrow. I’m sad that I won’t be seeing all those familiar faces this year, and returning to all those kids that I love, but I’m excited for new opportunities and experiences at the same time.

I have no closing tonight, so I guess that’s all for now! Abrupt, but true.

Here’s what’s on my mind right now in no particular order – an exercise in stream of consciousness listiness.

I get to meet my new students on Monday!
Irene seems to be making everyone crazy.
I want to have an idea for a young adult novel project to work on in writer’s group, I might have one brewing.
Charlie Sherman is the Executive Director of New Horizons? Who knew.
I miss my old co-workers and love my new ones all at the same time.
Myloh is a crazy weirdo.
Tomorrow will be bustling with yard clean up and preparations (just in case)
I can’t stop thinking about “One Day.” I thought I hated it at first, but now I know I loved it.
Jane Eyre book club needs to happen soon.
I think my Warrior Dash rash scars might be permanent and I’m pissed about it.
I want a new tattoo or two.
I think I’m the only one in the world who likes the new show Wilfred.
I start a lot of sentences with the word I.
yoga, yoga, yoga would feel great right now. I need a new mat.
My trashy television addiction is out of control. I’m already ready for a new Jersey Shore and it was only on last night.
Is it hockey season yet?
This blog stinks on ice. I just wanted to let my thoughts flow for a few minutes, so purpose served.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves….

I have had that Lewis Carroll line randomly stuck in my head for the last 2 hours or so. I’m not very sure how it got there, but it’s there and it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I hate when I have a touch of OCD and repeat things like that over and over and over in my head.

I spent alllllllll day trying to set up my classroom in Alton. Setting up my room always makes me feel stressed and inadequate, like I’m not quite sure what the heck I’m doing. It also reminded me that I would rather be setting up a classroom in Strafford where I already know that I love my co-workers and feel like a part of things. I hate starting over. I know I will be fine, and I know I will end up loving people in Alton too, but I’m not good with change. Not good at all. This makes my apparent inability to acquire anything but one-year teaching positions a great misfortune. Either that, or a challenge that will make me stronger. I hope it is the latter.

I have writers group again tomorrow after a too long summer hiatus. I am really grateful to be a part of such a great group of people who always have good writing, good ideas, and good laughter (not to mention good wine.)

I had an uncharacteristic bout of insomnia last night. Now, if you know me at all, I can fall asleep usually in under a minute. I can sleep through anything, fall asleep anywhere, and usually do. However, last night I watched an entire movie (Brothers, which was very good by the way) from 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. without so much as a yawn. I didn’t fall asleep until 4:15 a.m. By that point, I was actually contemplating just getting up and starting my day which must have done the trick and sent me over the edge. It seems like I should be asleep by now because of this, but I don’t even feel tired. Too much stress maybe.

My dogs are snoring, my cats are brawling, my husband is relaxing, and I am unmotivated to do several things that need to be done.

I never feel like my blogs are exciting enough to post, but maybe they are more for me than they are for you. So, I will post them anyway.

Adios.

Here goes nothing.

Way back in the “olden days” of myspace, I used to blog all the time. Then, facebook came and swept me off my feet, and constant status updates took the place of sitting down and writing my thoughts out. Now, the shine has worn off, and I’m barely doing any status updates, much to the dismay of certain people I know. That leads me to this.

My shiny new blog.

Now, I am infamous for starting things and never finishing them. My problem in that department is epic. But maybe, just maybe, I will keep updating this blog that I always think about writing, and talk about writing, and never actually write. Kind of like all the books I haven’t published yet that I know I will eventually publish, just as soon as I write them. My writer’s group is a step in the right direction for that, but even though I go to writer’s group, I still find that I don’t write nearly enough for my own liking. I’m hoping this will be one more incentive to sit down and write regularly.

I called it Channeling Mr. Whitman because I am inspired regularly by his poetry. I used to hate poetry. And I mean HATE. I didn’t think I understood it, didn’t think it had much value, and mostly thought I couldn’t write it. I was too inhibited and shy. Too worried about sucking when I put pencil to paper to try and come up with something. Teaching middle schoolers to spill their guts without being self conscious about it has certainly helped me get over that. Come to find out, I actually love poetry, and I love writing it, and sometimes, I’m actually good at it. So, for now, my blog will be called this because he inspires me, and his prolific thoughts on life and love and human existence always spark me to do more, be better, and most importantly, to think.

I stink at titles as a general rule, so I’m sure I’ll get discouraged with this one and move onto another shortly. I’m a work in progress.

To close out my first entry, here’s one of my favorites from Mr. Whitman himself:

When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

Until next time…