Progress Report, Mr. Spock

Well it’s been almost a month since I started this little blog. And in the beginning (cause obviously that was SO long ago), I made a list of things to do for the summer.

Now, granted, summer isn’t even here but I’m still working on this list. And yes, even changing a couple of things. But don’t worry---I’m not pussying out. These are actually HARDER things to do. Yeah, I’m crazy. Don’t remind me.

Demo - A Review

It’s interesting that this review should come up so soon after my review of A Single Man. Both experiences were terribly personal ones, but also one that I’d want to share with someone.

I’d like to think that they were both stories that everyone can relate to in some small way, but may view differently or pick different moments--or in the case of Demo, stories that affected them more or less than yourself. Which would make any discussions about them all the more interesting, because you wont necessarily agree with someone but you learn just a little more about them. 

I kinda wish I had an awesome quote to sum this up.

Okay, so it’s a little bit harder to find something awesome to put in the title. While I do adore Kelley Armstrong’s work, she’s not always the most quotable author in the world. Nothing in Frostbitten managed to stick out as something to use on here, which is not to say it was a terrible book by any means but--just not very quotable.

But let’s back this up.

Just get through the goddamn day.

It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen A Single Man and I’m still a tad hesitant to put up a review.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t formed an opinion nor that I didn’t like the movie. It’s just, to me, feels like one of those movies that’s very internal. Even as I write this, half of me is struggling with the idea and frustrated that I cannot come up with anything that could justify it, either my opinion or a review.

The saddest part of a broken heart, isn't the ending so much as the start.

I started off writing a blog post about a break up. I guess the once semi-constant thing in my life has been writing and the ability to express myself and what I was going through. While I’ve currently moved from fiction to literally my boring every day life I always felt it a great outlet for my rather clutter brain.

I’m the type of person who over thinks just about everything. I try to plan things. I worry. I fret. I analyze and then hyper analyze. I jump to conclusions. I lose myself in my thoughts. Being able to write out my emotions, my feelings... it distances me from them. It lets me organize. Often my writing starts off with one thing and ends on a completely different mark.

Which I guess is how I started re-writing this post about my break up.

My small brush with fame...

Living in Vancouver it’s not completely unusual to see a movie set.

Sure, it’s not run of the mill. We all still stand around, peering around giant props and pieces of equipment to find someone famous buried among the loads of people it takes to make a movie. Sometimes we get lucky and other times not so much. I was never one of those lucky people. I’ve never met anyone famous. Haven’t seen anyone famous.

I say this, not to be pouty or whiny but just as a truth.

"Love is happiness, but only when you believe it will last for ever."

My first book review.

How neat.

No, honestly. I love discussing books--and movies, and tv shows and anything where I can spout my mouth off on what I think. My only problem is 99% of the people I know either don’t read the same books I do, or do and dislike talking about them. I’m looking at you, M.

It's a brand new day and the sun is high; All the birds are singing that you're gonna die

As mentioned in the past, I wanted to be a part of a challenge--with a few minor tweaks.

Because in all honesty? I never do things the simple way--or hopefully the conventional way. I like to do things somewhat on my own terms. If you know me, you’ve probably had many frustrating conversations in which I try elicit a response from you, only to do the thing I wanted to do in the first place. (Thanks for listening, I promise I take all your input seriously.)

If you look up awesome in the dictionary: a muse concert would be the first entry.

Honestly, probably the best quote of the night, courtesy of my mother who had a surprisingly great time.

Yes, I’m lame. I went to a concert with my mother. Shut up.

When Muse were first announced at least three months ago that they were coming to Vancouver, I was excited--despite my sadly dwindling excitement for the band. I texted my two best friends, hereto known as M and G, and asked if they wanted to come. They, of course, thanks to me, have been fans since high school (M) and since he met me (G), were of course interested. Bought the “best available” and thought nothing of it until April.

Yes, I full on admitted it. My love for Muse, while still there was lacking the same enthusiasm that I had once felt.