Posted on by crystal · 2 Comments

Revisiting Inception and random twitter rants

I spent the day on back-to-school errands. My baby wouldn’t come with me [she prefers to sit home watching cartoons and stuff], so I rushed to town armed with colour preferences and her shoe size. Several hours later, I had sore arms, mad feet, and girly purple sundresses.

Don’t ask.

I needed to unwind, so after losing the battle craving for cold milk, I decided to re-watch Inception. I watched it a while back and didn’t think that much of it, but I figured a clearer copy would help. It didn’t.

I did watch the first 15 minutes – the ones that were missing from my CAM copy. Turns out it was closer to 5, so I hadn’t really missed much. I had a clearer understanding of the mad maths, I maintain that the Indian dude is hot, and the gravity fight scenes were still awesome. I liked the warm, fuzzy portions at the end – they made me smile. And I love the music score. Other than that, I’m indifferent to the movie. It didn’t mess with my mind or make me question reality. To me, the whole thing was just plain silly.

I noticed one thing that I missed the first time. I noticed that the top keeps spinning in the end. I know that’s supposed to boggle my mind and make me wonder if he was really dreaming. It’s supposed to give credence to the thread on the DR post.

But I just found it annoying. I mean, the top was clearly wobbling, and if the cameraman hadn’t cut the shot and gone off to get coffee, it would have tipped over. So it didn’t make me ask if it was all a dream. Instead, it made me think of those annoying horror films where the last scene always leaves you humming ‘dun dun dun duuuuuuuun’ *dramatic cut scene and convenient excuse for a sequel*

You know, like when the hero is kissing the lady he just rescued, and in the background, a zombie hand shoots out of the grave … just before the credits roll? Like that.

Moving on.

I like to link tweets to blogs. It’s fun. It leaves a paper trail of sorts, like a cyber jigsaw, and I like jigsaws. So when New Twitter started hiding time stamps, I got a little annoyed.

Actually, I got a lot annoyed.

I always liked New Twitter. It has some really awesome features, and it’s pretty too. I hate that it doesn’t show where you’re tweeting from. Web vs Gravity is a sneaky way of finding out where somebody is sitting. But the feature that says *3 minutes ago* or *1 hour ago* is what helps you pin down a tweet. You click on that section and the individual tweet fills the screen. That way, you can link to it specifically, rather than zoning an entire timeline.

Meh. Sometimes I wonder if I make sense to anyone but me. Or maybe I just need milk.

Posted on by crystal · 6 Comments

Debating with my inner child

Inner child: I want milk.

Me: No you don’t.

Inner child: Actually, yeah, I do.

Me: You know cold milk makes us sick.

Inner child: So drink it hot!

Me: That makes us sick too.

Inner child: It’s not my fault it makes you sick. I still have milk enzymes.

Me: Meh.

Inner child: And we don’t have to take a looooot of it. Just two or three glasses.

Me: Shut up.

Inner child: We can get the good stuff, from T-mall. The vending machine is all prebolied. It’s soooo cool. And it tastes sooooo good.

Me: T-mall is too far away.

Inner child: No it’s not. 10 minutes with no traffic. 20 bob in a mat. We’ll be back in half an hour. You can even get coconut and cashews…

Me: Coconuts and cashews … *temporarily lost in daydreams * … **promptly snapping out of daydream** I’ll have cramps and … other things … for days!

Inner child: True … but we’ll be haaaaaaappy! Work with me here. Focus. feeeeel it. Feeel the cold milk trickle down your throat and …

Me: SHUT UP!

Inner child: All I want is milk. And you know you want those coconuts and cashews …

**sounds of violent struggle as I tie up and gag my inner child**

God, it sucks being a grown up.

PS: Would somebody please find a cure for milk allergies? And if I hear one more person say soy milk, both me and my inner child will scream. You do NOT want to hear us scream.

Posted on by crystal · 97 Comments

Love like a girl, play like a woman

Every once in a while, I feel like a coke bottle. No, I don’t mean, dark, chocolatey, and shaped like an hourglass. I mean red, sticky, and shaking so much that my top will pop off. I need an outlet for all of the fizz, but I’m afraid to splash some poor unsuspecting yob. I usually blame it on PMS, or the moon. There’s a full yellow one in the sky this week, so I can blame both.

I’d like to find a tall building and howl at the moon, but there aren’t too many around here. I’d like to write some deep, complex poetry, but I haven’t done that in years. I’d like a full glass of Malibu, or maybe five. I’ll get that tomorrow if the moon’s still full.

I’ve been playing this quote over and over in my head:

It’s hard to love a woman who doesn’t love herself.

I’ve always detested the games women play – hard to get, aloof, unfeeling. But there’s a lot of use in them. They keep you from getting hurt. They leave the cards safely in your hands. They stop you from second-guessing, because you have all the answers … and wield all the questions.

Being a girl is different. It’s loving with joy and innocence. You don’t know love can hurt. You do cartwheels when you see him, giggle when you hear him, blush when you call him, tingle when you touch him, bump him by the stairway … think life is beautiful. Sometimes you grow into a woman, find your claws, scream, curse his ex, ration affection.

I always say love is a decision, and in some ways, so is the craziness that comes with it. You can’t decide who to love – that’s why it’s called falling. But you choose what to do about it. It is possible to stop yourself from yanking his exes’ eyes out. Challenging, but possible.

It’s unlikely I’ll ever learn to be a woman, but I’d love a way to deal with this. If I could get so wrapped up in my own life that I don’t try to worry about his, well, it would be a good place to start.


Meh. I should have just written a poem.