Boringback Mountain

So, as promised, the weekend delivered a little cowboy loving. Brokeback Mountain. I had so wanted to see this movie, for the many reasons as follows:

1) I live where it was shot. No, not Wyoming. Calgary. The city that I love, the city I have chosen to be my home for a multitude of reasons…the kind people, the vibrancy, the relatively temperate climate, and the intense beauty of the mountains and prairies surrounding it. And what better way to showcase the beautiful places that I have been time and again - but that always amaze me every time I see them - than on the big screen.

2) I have friends who worked on the film. Okay, not friends. Acquaintances. As the last time I checked, “friends” did not involve a bunch of arrogant backstabbing wankers who are so out of touch with reality that they think that if they prepare a cheque for an art director with cute little stickers all over it, that they are suddenly, somehow, Heath Ledger’s new best friend.

3) Heath Ledger. Jake Gyllenhaal. Having sex. With each other.

And now for a small disclaimer before the rant that follows. I was in no way upset by, offended by, nor cared about the homosexuality in the film. I couldn’t care less if someone is gay, straight, both…I have friends who are gay...a family member who is gay…and it isn’t an issue. I love them all for who they are...so my distaste for the film has nothing to do with that particular detail of the film. (Though I did note one redneck couple storm out of the theatre after the first kiss between Ennis and Jack…which I must only presume means that the good ol’ boy had done gone seen that thar movie poster for that thar cowboy movie and had convinced the little lady to go see it after church on Sunday. In which case I don’t find the film nearly as offensive as the closed-minded uninformed conservatives that make up this Province for the most part...but that is another rant for a different day.)

What my lack of enthusiasm really has to do with is that it was soo sooo sooooooo boring. I mean really really boring. They took a short story and turned it into a feature length film. It’s like when you were in high school and had to write a 1000 word essay and only had one thing to say. That thought got repeated over and over - stretched out beyond belief, and even if it were a good idea to begin with, bored the teacher to tears and you ended up with a C+. I mean – if you’ve seen the movie – substitute “Jack” for “Jackie” and what kind of story would it be? Zzzzzzzzzzzz…(and that is what I also find troubling - the filmmakers are relying on the “gay” story line to make the movie. But it’s hardly shocking enough to drag out for 2+ hours. I mean does anyone remember the “Ellen” airport scene circa 1997? No, which is exactly my point. In a few years there will be bigger…more earth-shattering social fish to fry…)

And then there was the character development. Or lack thereof. I didn’t particularly like Ennis or Jack. We didn’t really get to know either of them…who they were…what motivated them. I know this because I didn’t cry on command when the script tried to force it. And I cry at everything – from babies to watching the 6 o’clock news. But the poor writing did not grab me…did not make me care enough about these characters to really feel much of anything. It was like “hey everybody – this is the sad part…it’s coming up…ready…okay everybody…1, 2, 3…cry!” and I couldn’t get into it, rather resented it for trying to force emotion that just wasn’t there.

And the look of the film itself (if that even makes sense)...but the look…was just…blah. They took one of the most beautiful places on earth (IMNSHO) and made it look…well… grey. Beige. Blah. As mentioned by my partner-in-crime/fellow-film-critic “maybe that was the look they were going for.” Stark. Depressing. I don’t know. But if so, they succeeded.

I will say on a high note that Heath Ledger is brilliant…his acting carried the movie…Jake – well – the only funny bit was in my head when I kept thinking that he looked NOTHING like he did in Spiderman...(duh)…and Michelle Williams…I mean all this hype, and she was in it for about 15 minutes. I mean I could have played Alma at that point. I have great boobs too.

So all in all – if you’re actually even still reading…keep your $12, and if you must waste 2 hours of your life…then rent the DVD. A better suggestion is take your $12, get a cheap bottle of wine or two, grab a friend (boy, girl, one of each, whichever) and tune into this...

P.S. I note eight Academy Award nominations. 8. Well I have been wrong before…see the likes of "Gladiator"…"Lord of the Rings"…"Million Dollar Baby"…and other hours spent that I will never get back. Maybe it’s me. But someone someday needs to write/produce a film that holds my interest. And that means you Parkes. I am waiting patiently…:)

We Were on a Break...

Well...I haven’t blogged in over a week - which could mean a multitude of things - mainly:

1) I have been relatively happy with things as of late…and as such am not able to wax poetic about any of the trials and tribulations that is my life.

2) I have been busy lately. V. busy. Entertaining out of town guests, i.e. my Mom (who I both love dearly and drives me to drink – quite literally – at the same time), Baby Sis, and her New Fiancé…(who I absolutely adore despite v. v. bad first impression in Summer ’04 likely due to my own worries about what was happening in Vegas at the time, as well as my I-am-not-drinking-tonight-rather-driving-your-sorry-annoyingly-drunk-asses-home-and-will-sit-here-as-martyr-sans-sense-of-humour-all-evening-hoping-that-at-least-you-will-feel-my-pain-in-8-short-hours-when-alarm-clock-rings)

3) I have been reading more than writing. Reading all sorts of things – from juicy fiction to the guide to my own very real reality as of late - in gold and black snakeskin patterned satin PJ’s courtesy of Miss L as she could not bear to throw them away and thought I could use some “lounging.” (Which btw - I admit are v. comfortable and quite lovely to lie about in until someone has poor sense to walk past open window and catch glimpse of same lounging on gold and black striped-paisley-polka-dot-couch in some sort of bizarre/hideous camouflage attempt.)

4) I have been busy expanding my social circle. Well social dot as it is. And well no – I haven’t expanded it per se. Yet. But I have thought about it. A lot. Have also been clearing out the old energy suckers (I wish you a v. Happy Birthday this weekend FFF…however I will not be there to drink myself into oblivion (which FYI was done only because you and the rest of the mongrels made me so damn uncomfortable in the first place) and do something foolish – so as to give you even more ammo to use against me the next time you all sit around trying to decipher me etc. etc. while I dig the knives out of my back…)

5) I have been v. busy at work. Well up until this moment anyways. Have committed to seeking some sort of promotion around here. Management quite happy with decision and will be supporting my eventual rise to CEO. Okay. Well not exactly CEO. But figure I have been here for 5 years now and should “expand my horizons” as they refer to it on most CVs. Which really is a load of bull for the most part. I just want to make more money. There’s a lot of really cute stuff I need to buy.

So there you have it – an update on the life and times Ginger/Mary Ann for now. Weekend looks promising, plans for a little cowboy loving (not my own unfortunately) as well as drinks with Miss L and her b.f. Mr. Beige.

TTFN...

Nuts & Bolts

So a friend of mine is having a procedure this afternoon. A "procedure." Makes it sound a little less serious than "surgery." Also kinda makes it sound like he may be getting THE snip…but I for one hope that is not the case…

Anyways….the two of us were chatting last night…somewhat…and he tells me in a presumably joking fashion what he has become quite fond of the small-non-serious-albeit-a-bit-unsightly mass on his neck which we have both come to refer to as the bolt (well actually “bawlt” when said in South-African-British-Canadian muddled accent…) much in the fashion of a cartoon Frankenstein. He says he will actually miss it when it’s gone.

Which got me thinking (yes the dreaded thinking again - the thing I try so desperately not to do)…can you actually miss something that has no value to you…something which may even be detrimental to you…just because it has been a part of your life for so long? And yes. I suppose you can. In fact, I know you can. It’s like this thing…this bawlt …is not there for any particular reason - it’s just there hanging on…and just the thought that it is still there is comforting in some bizarre way…and the thought of being without it is not so much...regardless of its value…real or otherwise.

So what is it you do? I mean obviously - you need to rid yourself of this stuff. But if you are like me - you hold on desperately…because you hate ridding your life of anything…the shirt you wore on the that first date (or whatever it was) to that sunny café with the unsteady mugs so long ago…(even if said item is outdated and rather worn out now.) Or the ticket stubs to Closer because it was the first movie you walked out on in your life and reminds you how empowered your silent little protest made you feel. But at what point do you cut this stuff off? Stop hanging on to all these little things in boxes…shelves…jars on the mantle …whatever? Because at some point you are hanging on to so much of this stuff that you are completely overloaded and can’t collect anything else…and you find yourself living amongst a cluttered confusing mess of the past… finding it difficult to sort the important from the not-so-important…instead of living calmly in the moment.

Well. These are the things I am trying to focus my attention on now. And note to Frank…if you could maybe just hang onto that bolt for me…as I believe it may be me who is in need of her head being screwed on tighter.

Thanks luv…

Dress Code

So I was getting ready for work this morning, and decided to wear the skirt that I have been saving since Christmas, the one Baby Sis gave me all the way from Vegas (don’t judge it – there’s no Gold Lamé anywhere)...the one she bought in August because she knew it would be perfect for me when the time was right. And it is. So cute. I would describe it here - only it would not do it justice, rather it would sound hideous…much like my gold-and-black-striped-paisley-polka-dot couch. Sounds terrible. But it works. Trust me.

Anyways…I am running late…as per usual it seems as I cannot seem to drag myself out of bed these days as in sleep everything is okay…and am jumping into my clothes (which I have laid out the night before…yes...some neuroticisms you just can’t get past) and I put on my skirt and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. And that’s when it hits me. This uncontrollable urge to twirl around like I’m 5 years old…just to see how the skirt sways. And suddenly I remember what it was like to go to birthday parties when I was little…all dressed up in my new - usually pink - dress…which of course I was not allowed to put on until the moment I was leaving so as to avoid coke-pop spills all down the front…and I can almost hear my mom telling me to have fun, don’t forget to say please and thank-you, don’t eat too much cake, and call us when you need a ride. And I am so excited to get there and show my friends my new dress because I feel like a princess even if it isn’t my birthday…although at this point I am so nervous about whether or not the gift I am giving is right – is it as nice as the other presents, will the birthday girl love it or will I feel stupid because my mom didn’t buy something as cool as Carly’s mom (who incidentally let us call her by her first name which I thought was really glamorous circa 1980, but also made me feel really uncomfortable in retrospect...though - ugh - at the time she was probably younger than I am now...)

Anyways. I digress. The thing that got me thinking most was right now – in this moment – there is not a single soul for me to twirl around for. A party dress is just a plain old dress when there is no one there to watch you watch your reflection in the mirror…smile approvingly, make some comment about you looking like a princess…and then making a further comment about what he would do to you in that dress (circa 2006 – not 1980) all the while with smiley eyes that adore everything they are seeing.

So add that to the list of things I miss. And the list of things I want again. Because I have a lot more twirling that needs to be done…