Monday, January 23, 2012

No, Don’t Do That to Me, Please…or I’ll Go Lisbeth Salander on You.

"If you touch me, I'll more than alarm you."--Lisbeth Salander

I watched “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” last night, a date with myself. Movies, solo is a great experience, and I’ve been doing it since I was 19 when I finally didn’t care to wait around for a man to ask me out. So, with my loving husband hanging with our kids at home, I dressed nice, slipped on my boots and headed out into the rain.




Hormonal, eager to see the American version to compare with the foreign pioneer and the book (which I only read ¾ off), I marched into the AMC theater. I reached the ticket collector and knew I had exactly five minutes to get into my seat—I hate being late for anything.

What I assessed of the boy in the red shirt was that he was young enough to be my son, shaved head, and scrawny. I didn’t look at his eyes because I didn’t feel the need to register him into my database. I was scanning the left and right sides of the theater, making a mental note of what numbers were on either side, so once this guy told me the number I could bolt. What I didn’t expect was his fondling of my hand.

“You’re in theater 11.” He returned my ticket into my left hand, pressed it into my palm, then held my hand in both his. I half stepped forward when he then traced his cold finger on my left hand, slowly and with enough pressure to get my attention. I should have looked into his eyes then, but I was taken aback and not flattered, but mad. He released my hand and I beelined for my flick, finally. “Enjoy your movie," he said to me as I walked away.

It took a few moments to analyze his amateur move. He must do this to all the ladies, I reassured myself. Self-deprecating, I usually am. (Yoda speaking, I usually am not).

Once the previews cleared and the seats filled up with latecomers, the opening credits of Dragon Tattoo started, I got fuming again. It didn’t help that Immigrant Song blasted with crazy good imagery. I thought, would the 19 year old me be flustered and beguiled by this boy’s textbook move? Maybe. Would my daughter, when she’s allowed to date (28 years old) fall victim to this stroke of flirtation? I hope not. Am I overanalyzing again to the point I have to blog about it? Perhaps.

*Don't watch the opening sequence from the movie below-SPOILER ALERT-if you want the full effect in the theater. And, I won't be surprised if this is taken off Youtube soon. Enjoy otherwise...



Nonetheless, I saw that he was replaced when I emerged from theater 11 by a female ticket collector. Good, I thought. With raw imagery of the movie I just absorbed, he was safer not being near me. No threat of physical harm, but maybe a death stare.

On a side note, I met the actor who played a bit role as a cop, Alan Dale (Lost, Ugly Betty). I approached him as we both waited at a gate at LAX in 2009, told him I appreciated his work. He has a few minutes on screen with Rooney Mara.




Happy Chinese New Year! Year of the Dragon….

ESTA LATER!

Monday, January 9, 2012

Cut the Red Wire or the Blue Wire!?

"Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor."~Dr. Alexis Carrel
I’m excellent in keeping contracts, my word, a promise to others, but….not so much with myself. I guess it has to do with the fact that I can forgive myself and make the breach “okay” in my brain. I know how to rationalize and feed myself propaganda that it’s okay to not uphold goals for myself. I hold the key to secret clauses that the buyer (myself) didn’t know—the fine, fine, fine print. Escape clauses are detrimental to any real progress. I know this.

My life is a non-stop movie that I can’t set aside or pause. I have to constantly be PRESENT, entertained by my sometimes mundane life. There are no other points of view I can have, just this one lens, my point of view.

Am I whining? Yes and no. I’m just exploring why I fall into the same traps. Maybe I’m afraid of real adventure. Maybe I’m really boring at the core. I like to think of myself a warrior, a goddess, but I think I’m more a wallflower. I call for spotlights, “Here! Here! Look at me!” Then, upon receiving it, I flake, panic, fold into myself.

I guess I’m excited this year because the yearning for more is real, attainable and it’s sitting right in front of me. I just have to brave and confident and wise enough to snatch it up.

So…

I’m going to start small with a manageable goal. Baby steps as the saying goes. Perhaps a goal or two for a day or week that I can hold true. I may have to write it down, but not here….sure, I can blast this goal on the internet to friends and such so if I do fail then the “public” can hold me accountable, but I don’t function that way. Notice, how I’m already putting in place safeguards, detailing the fine print.

I’m just working through some tangled wires, because I want to figure out why the same patterns of behavior keep emerging.

Thank you for letting me vent.

Goal of writing….attained! Off to other goals.

LYRICS for Sia's Breathe Me video...fitting
Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me


ESTA LATER!