Moving Times

Moving to Wordpress for a season.


www.instantoatmeal.wordpress.com

SOON

New blog and a better blogger coming soon. Look for it in the new year. ....like january not the chinese new year happening sometime in February.

Title of Show

This is what it means to be a senior.

Tennis

I wish I lived in Denmark.

Turning Every Good Thing To Rust

It is only in the most recent chapter of life that I have been faced with mourning my childhood. I've always hated memories, bad ones and good ones. It's easy to understand a dislike of bad memories.......they're bad, no one wants those again. But good ones I find equally miserable. They're gone with no promise of return.
It really is like an abusive relationship with the past. I think that's why we aren't supposed to dwell there...kind of a preplanned restraining order. But I have always possessed a socially awkward amount of nostalgia.
I swear if I walked into a room deaf, blind, and unable to smell I would probably still develop a relationship with a wall, counter top, and lighting fixture. I could have entire conversations with the window sills about how the afternoon sun reflected on the paint compared to morning's subtle gleam.
So really it's no wonder that as I turn this corner in my life, as I attempt to stumble through a foreign corridor, the baggage of every place I've every lived, every movie of my childhood, and every bright idea I've ever had can't all possibly squeeze through customs. Much of me hates growing up. I predicted this, of course. I hate being right. At eight years old, people would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up? I used to say "I don't want to grow-up." To which people accredited Peter Pan. We are not the same. Peter just wanted to dance with pirates and wear tights, but I could see that bill paying, decision making, and sex were all largely disappointing... which is probably thanks to my curse with being annoyingly observant. Gosh I hate knowing things.
So when I watched the trailer for "Where the Wild Things Are," I realized how much I still wanted to go where the wild things are. We all want to be Max, that's no mystery. I never acted out in school or at home like Max, but we are really no different. Some of us act in. It's far less punishable and just as destructive. We grow up...bodies change, hormones rage, temptations rise, ramifications intensify, parents get sick, people die, the world gets smaller, the future gets closer, and all the while you can't stop time. The escapes of adulthood are gross and scary compared to those of childhood.


I love being referred to as a sheep and a child. I sincerely hope that in heaven I am 3'6" with freckles and a blanket.

"I may throw up on you."

Wow, Star Trek!? You got me to like Star Trek? "Kudos" to that team because I sincerely appreciated this movie far more than I thought I would, especially in a time of what I like to call lifepuke.

Can you hear me?

I'm in rock star school.

Chekhov

Yes, the moon is rising. There it is....happiness. I can see it. It's coming nearer and nearer. I can hear it's footsteps. But if we do not see it, if we do not recognize it? Then what does it matter? Others will see it.



To be visionary. To lead. To inspire change. To chase love.

Life in Technicolor

Isaiah 1:13

"Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.

The crucifixion/resurrection is good, it truly is good.

I had forgotten how totally funny Movies in Fifteen minutes were especially Phantom of the Opera.

"[But Raoul is too late, because the mirror has opened and Christine has been pulled through by… an “angel” in formal wear. And a mask. Well, half a mask.]

INCREDIBLY '80S MUSIC: DUHHHHHH! DUNDUNDUNDUN DUHHHHHHH!

CHRISTINE: Wow, I had no idea all these gold candelabra arms were right behind my room.

THE ANGEL OF MUSIC: Yeah, I got ’em cheap off some beast. You like?

[The Angel then takes her through the opera house basement on a horse, then by a ferry, then a stagecoach, then a steamboat, then a biplane with a layover in the fourth cellar, and finally to a gondola. They are serenaded by electric guitars and waterproof candles.]

CHRISTINE: Are we there yet?

THE PHANTOM: No.

CHRISTINE: Are we there yet?

THE PHANTOM: No.

CHRISTINE: Will we get there any faster if I flash all of my thigh and possibly more?

THE PHANTOM: …Yes.

© 2005 Cleolinda Jones. All rights reserved. cleolinda.livejournal.com

2008 or Death and All of His Friends.

Dear 2008,


I wanted to be a fan, but not so much. You had so much promise: another country, a new president, the Olympics, a new Shyamalan film, a new Coldplay album. Yet, with all that good, you left me bitter, numb, angry, and a better person. You changed me 2008.

a new fear
a new president
a new hope
a new style
more coldplay
poor shyamalan films
the olympics
michael phelps
china
austrailia
Lost
Bus Stop
new phobias
a dissapointment
a reality
unchangeable present
the underground
bleak
cynicism
fatal
fantastic people
dear sweet tender precious chad
black mountain
angels in america
virgin atlantic
change, a year of change
doubt
isolation
islands ( i still hate them)
rain
perpetual rain
crushed innocence
overwhelming faith
strength from nowhere
lowest of lows
illness
death
change
poverty
hope
new hope
new mexico
sand
sand
sand
big sky
sing a new song

You lit fire of fear that had much to burn

I've never been more ready for a new year.

Stephen Sondheim says of America in Assassins
"I just heard
On the news
Where the mailman won the lottery.
Goes to show:
When you lose, what you do is try again.

You can be
What you choose,
From a mailman to a president.
There are prizes all around you,
If you're wise enough to see"


2008, you are either my biggest enemy or my greatest friend.

Sincerely,
Mitch

It's a Wonderful Life

I never knew how much I think like you.

Typical

Everyone seems to look cooler in the desert. The pictures from New Mexico make us look far more action heroic than we really are, or at least that is true of myself. I am the least exciting action hero ever. I look dumb and awkward most of the time and that's when I'm not tripping over my own feet. However, somewhere inside of me is an extremely dangerous stunt driver. I don't know how he exists, I just know he's there.

Though I may look out of place there, I absolutely love the desert. It could be due to my infatuation with sand and geography but really I think it has more do with opportunity. Out West, it feels like you can do anything. I joked often that in many ways the desert is the opposite of England, which is why it currently feels so good. It's sunny, it's dry, it's pleasant, it's usually warm, and it's full of hope.

Call Me Old Fashioned.

I dreamed about sewing machines last night.

Changeling

This movie reminded me of Hell.

The true meaning of Halloween.

In The Know: Has Halloween Become Overcommercialized?

Fight back you coward!

New international trailer for Half-Blood Prince. Still no sign of the bridge scene. Of course we won't really know anything until JULY!!!

Nashville

On a childhood highway through a night alone
I was barely breathing, I was crawling home
Well it's not quite London or the south of France
Or an Asian island or a second chance

Going back to Nashville, thinking about the whole thing
Guess you gotta run sometimes
Maybe I'm a fast train rolling down the mountain
Watching all my life go by

You're a distant memory, you're an exit sign
I was talking crazy on the driver's side
And I know I hurt you but I won't confess
Was that blood or a wine stain on your wedding dress

Going back to Nashville, thinking about the whole thing
Guess you gotta run sometimes
Maybe I'm a fast train rolling down the mountain
Watching all my life go by
Going back to Nashville, laughing at a bad break
What's the use in wondering why
Maybe I'm a storm front rolling through the valley
Tearing up a good July

And it's safe and warm where nothing ever happens
Would it be so hard to realign a star or two
Change a southern night for you

Well it's not quite evening, and it's not New York
There's a scar in the blue sky by the old airport
And I'm talking crazy on the driver's side
I will always love you like a long goodbye
-David Mead

Hott Mom