love means having to say you're sorry

I fear my greatest passion is in jeopardy. As if it's slowly becoming extinct. It's still in full force in my life, but I just know that it's going to gradually slip away soon. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to start someplace else.

My greatest passion, as you know, of course, is film. Just look to the right. There are 63 posts about film in my archives.

Now, now, when I write that film is in jeopardy, I do not mean the industry is in jeopardy. (Some might disagree with me there.) What I mean is that I'm not so sure it's going to be a daily fixture in my life for much longer. And here's why:

I've already resolved to move my TV out of my room as soon as school starts. I want to take this measure so that I can concentrate on my schoolwork. This includes my regular assignments for my classes and all the reading, thinking, and writing I must do for my thesis. I figure getting rid of the TV means I won't be so distracted. Because, as you know, it's very easy for me to put in a DVD and sit back and relax. Or is it?

It's not that easy after all, I think. For me, anyway. I keep a film journal, where I write about my experience and interpretation of every film I see for the first time (or the first time in a long time). I have OCD. I must write about the movie. I know that the world will not end if I don't, but I can't not document something that important to me.

Usually, I give myself a day to write about it, but I haven't written about the last eleven movies I've seen, starting with Manhattan (1979) which I saw on July 22nd. I've penned in the films' names (in their original language), year of release, and director on the pages I hope to fill, but I have yet to write about them. And it's driving me crazy. So crazy that I want to slow down watching movies so that I don't end up with twenty movies to write about. Yes, that's right. I said, "I want to slow down watching movies."

But why am I going at such a speed, you ask? Well, I've been renting five to six movies a week from the library. I request online some of the most obscure shit in the catalogue so I hardly have to wait to pick them up at my local library. To make a long story short, before yesterday, I had fourteen movies waiting for me. I have to strategically rent them. This means I end up watching some movies first before I rent the ones I really want to see because they came in later and thus will be on hold for me longer.

In any case, with all the work going on at the house, I can barely get through all five or six movies a week. And the recent upsurge of movies available for my viewing pleasure has really annoyed not only my father but myself. He has requested that I "take it easy with the movies." I agreed that I won't request more for a long time. So this means that gradually the screening of new movies (to me) will die out.

This is perfect. It goes along with what I have planned about getting the TV out of my room. I just don't know which will happen first: the removal of the TV or the dearth of library movies available for me to rent.

I'm sorry.

yeah, i found it too

oh well

This post says nothing, means something.

Ooh, I can see the TV behind me reflected in my computer screen.

lofty dreams

Today was a shorter day. But combined the last two days have seen a major overhaul of the house. To explain what has happened I would need to describe the layout of the house. And I don't particularly feel like doing that right now.

Let me just say that the house feels huge now. The living room echoes, as it is now void of almost all of its original furniture (only a blue reclining armchair remains, along with some furniture that will not stay permanently). Walking from room to room, I get the feeling I am living in a large loft. The effect the combination of the emptiness and the acoustics has is very, very surreal for lack of a better word.

I honestly can't believe we got here, and we have our handyman of a cousin to thank for it. (Thank you, Manny!)

What's left, you ask? There's a lot more recycling and organizing to do. We filled a 21-foot-long dumpster that's eight feet wide and five feet tall. It got dropped off at 7.15 this morning and it's getting picked up sometime tomorrow. Then we have to go about the house, painting the rooms. Then we'll refurnish the living room. Replace the refrigerator perhaps. Rejuvenate the beautiful hardwood floors. Recarpet the playroom-turned-storage room-turned-haven't-figured-it-out-yet room. Install blinds in my room and in the large room that used to be filled with all kinds of stuff (it has very little in it now, compared to what it was like before).

This is a very strange place to be. Yes, I do mean physically. Samson has found the building very disorienting himself. He had trouble sleeping last night because the sofas in the living room, his regular resting place at night, had been evacuated.

More than this though, I just can't believe it's happened. Finally, we just might be getting the house we deserve, the lifestyle we think we can aspire to. I mean, I have said for years that I want to clean up the house so we could actually invite people over. It never got done because no one would step up and help. And then I became lazy. I didn't believe people when they said they would help. And when the people I did believe said they'd clean up, I was in England. I guess it would only get done if I were here and had people on my side.

yeah right

If you thought I was going to write a proper post, then you are sorrily mistaken.

wishful thinking

Like today is any different.

what is wrong with me?

Uh, yeah, I still can't concentrate.

is this really home?

I'm sitting in the middle of clutter. I can't concentrate to write a proper post. All I can say is: the state of my room has proved it was well-founded of me to not want to come home.

so close but yet so far

It's all over. Well, almost. That's what I hate about this last week. I just finished my last exam (didn't go as focused as planned) but I still need to work on getting out of here. And the blasting of vintage Celine Dion from the room of the one neighbor I really can't stand is not making me feel any better. It's making me feel worse.

Friday--though it has no exam--is going to be one hell of a day. I've written many reminders/appointments in my diary. In chronological order, I have to shower (of course), have my room inspected so I can get back my £160 deposit (and then cash it at a specific office on campus), do the laundry, pack, meet a prof for a goodbye drink, hand over my printer to a friend/say goodbye, attend a housewarming party for another friend/say goodbye.

And somewhere in all this I am supposed to have a burger at one of the greasy joints on campus because I haven't had red meat in forever. That was the first reminder I penned in my journal. You can see it is very important to me. I just hope I get round to doing it. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. Oh this reminds me: I need to buy British Mars bars and Milky Ways. And some sort of Lancaster University paraphernalia so I can announce via sweatshirt the existence of such a place as Lancaster University. And that I was there this past academic year.

it's about saturday

In the hallway just now, an American neighbor asked when I am going home because we were discussing our last exams. "Saturday," I said. Then she asked if I had been home at all since I left. "Nope," I shrugged. She called me "brave." I hadn't thought about being brave since before I left for eight months. I mean, how brave can I be if she's in a similar situation? So what if she hasn't been here as long. I don't think anyone in her position can call me brave.

But this exchange also represents something else. It was the first conversation that I've had where my answer to the question "When are you going home?" was a day of the week. It's not about June 9 anymore.

I'm so close, but it seems a bit far because I've so much to do before I go.

why is the rum gone?

Tired. Been out drinking and eating bangers 'n' mash. Will write on Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007) tomorrow.

it never ever ends

I have had two of my eight exams already. Still not confident, but I do know that I can in fact write an essay in an hour. It's just not the best essay in the world because I don't spend enough time planning it. The best advice I've been given with regards to studying for these fucking pains in the ass is to just practice everyday answering an essay question under timed conditions. That way I won't feel so pressured by the time constraint during the exam when I have to write two essays in two hours. It's helped a lot because I've realized that an hour is a reasonable amount of time to write an essay.

Wow, on a scale of one to ten, how uninteresting is this blog post, ten being really uninteresting? I think it's an eleven.

Today's exam was for "Re-presenting history: early European culture through the cinema," which I finished in mid-December. I have affectionately referred to the course module as my "history in film" class. It has been one of my favorites because I learned a lot about (ancient and medieval) history. I was over-prepared for the exam today, I realized, because my essay on how Gladiator's (2000) political message is represented through the film's depiction of Rome rambled on a bit. Still, at least I kept bringing it back to my thesis. I was upset I couldn't finagle a comparison with Spartacus (1960) in there, a film, despite its faults, I enjoyed so much more than I will ever like Gladiator.

Tomorrow is my modernist literature exam. I've spent the afternoon and evening filling out a chart to compare the four works we've studied, in relation to at least ten themes or concepts. Oh my god. I'm doing it again. Not only am I reverting back to old behavior (talking about nothing but exams), it's really boring, too.

I promise that as soon as I have enough time to devote to an actual post, I will blog about something that actually matters. Something like, say, "Cinemas of Minor Frenchness."

shh! examinations in progress

Oh, I don't have enough energy to write a proper post. This is the second time this has happened. For days I had been dragging my heels, procrastinating as much as possible before I started studying for my first exam on May 16 at 2 pm in the George Fox Lecture Theatres. (And where will you be?) But I began yesterday, continued today, and will keep on keeping on until I leave Thursday afternoon for Germany. I'm glad I'm getting the one with the most material (therefore the need for the most synthesized studying) over and done with first, but I really don't want to take ANY exams. Who does? I know. But I have EIGHT, and that's a lot more than most everyone else. Do you see why I can't wait to get out of here?