Ambitions

Every now and then I'm reminded of how little I've actually read. I consider myself better-read than the next person, but I'm not privy to a wide variety of books. I read the assigned classics in school and have branched out a little from there. I'm lucky to have had professors and teachers who have required me to delve into unique and provocative novels and books of poetry. But overall, I find my repertoire lacking.

I came across TIME's All-Time 100 Novels from 1923 to the Present, and I was humbled by how many of these I haven't even heard of. Thus I am undertaking the entire list, or most of it. I'm excited for the possibilities of finding another author to obsess over. Because that's how it happens. You, by chance, become engrossed with a writer's work (usually because somebody suggested one of their books), blow through their whole collection, then move onto the writers they like, and it sort of snowballs, until eventually the snowball melts. My snowball has melted. And even though I've tacked on quite a few books to my "have-read" list, they're all fairly similar. Because writers mimic (for the most part) writers they admire and so on and so forth. But this list will give me guidance, focus, and variety in the books I read.

So first up on my list: Under the Net by Iris Murdoch, The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood, Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh, and The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand (which isn't actually on the list).

I challenge all of you lovely (well-read) people to read even more. You can never read too much, I think. Plus, it keeps you from doing stuff that you really should do but just don't wanna. All for the sake of expanding the mind, right? Er, okay, maybe I should get back to work.

Pirate Radio review

I went to go see another movie with Miss Bailey this weekend, and I am proud to report that it surpassed 2012 by a long shot, not that this is a challenge. I'm surprised how many so-so reviews Pirate Radio got, because I thought it was fantastic. I haven't seen everything that's come out this year, but, for me, this is the most enjoyable movie of the year (and Lymelife). No, it had next to no character development. Yes, it was a little misogynistic. So what? Does every movie have to be a serious examination of characters? Does every movie have to be politically correct? God, I hope not. The acting was fabulous, the humor was perfectly gauged, and it was well-made.

Pirate Radio chronicles raunchy times aboard a hard-rocking boat. The mission: Defy stodgy Parliament values and bring rock-n-roll to Britain's suppressed youth. If your taste is refined, you won't find what you're looking for in Pirate Radio. It's a foul movie with no apologies, as it should be.

There are indeed a few too many characters on board. We could have done without - oh, about four, at least. But the interaction between some of the best comedic actors out there (who don't get enough credit in America, by the way) really makes the movie. You'll be laughing about 95% of the time - I'm talking knee-slapping good times.

Pirate Radio is definitely for people who don't take themselves too seriously and who enjoy stories that don't either. It's not an Oscar winner, and it makes no attempts to be. But, by golly, I wish it were. The world would be a much happier place. In an age of movies that try too hard (to give a message, to be funny, to be scary, etc.), Pirate Radio is a breath of fresh air - a movie that doesn't try to be anything but nine bucks well-spent. (I would have paid at least ten.)

2012 - Best. Movie. Ever. (SPOILERS)

NOT.

Oh my God. Worst movie ever? Without a doubt. It was so bad, I actually enjoyed watching it, so much so that I didn't even mind paying ten bucks for some popcorn and a Mr. Pibb. (The movie was paid for, thank God).

So, I went with one of my best friends. She was given pre-screening tickets by her employers, so we went to check it out. Why not? I mean, we didn't have any high expectations, but, hey, free movie. So we get to the theater, and we have to pass through the movie Nazis who take their job way too seriously. No cell phones allowed, of course. My purse was searched, which I expected, but it still irked me. They performed the "spread you arms and legs" schtick, which I thought was completely unnecessary and uncomfortable. And made an all-too-threatening announcement beforehand that went something along the lines of "If we see any lights from electronics, you will surely die." Like I would want to record this movie. Please.

Anyway, this pre-screening was actually for a charity, and they showed a five-minute video before it started - which, I must say, was the cheesiest, most poorly-made endorsement I've ever seen. It looked like my senile grandmother made it. But alas, a company was actually paid for this footage. Anyway, I'm not here to critique a charity's promotional video. Let's get to 2012.

The best idea I could give you of this movie is this: Imagine you're watching a movie, and the characters are watching a movie, too. The movie that they're watching .... that's this movie. It's the cheesiest, worst acting I've ever seen in my entire life. Except millions of dollars were wasted in an attempt to - I have a sneaking suspicion - make a great parody of an action movie.

The movie begins in shambles, and it ends in more shambles. We're introduced to characters who are seemingly unrelated. We find out of course that *gasp* they are related. Some Indian guy figures out that the core is melting ... yadayadayada ... he knows this other guy who works for the U.S. President and who tries to convince everybody that the world is going to end. Nobody believes him until the crust is splitting in California, etc. This guy has a dad - completely inconsequential to the story - who is on a cruise ship with his old buddy and they play jazz ... bladiblah ... his friend has a family he doesn't talk to .... and enter John Cusack. Hm, I wonder what role John Cusack is going to fulfill. Let me guess. He's some fledgling writer who ends up surviving armageddon? Ding, ding ding!

So John Cusack meets Woody Harrelson's character - fantastic, by the way - and discovers that the world is ending and there are, like, plans for rich people and government leaders to board these arks made by the Chinese (of course). And that's about as much screen time as Woody gets. Totally random. Anyhoo, Cusack takes his kids, ex-wife, and her boyfriend and hauls ass to the airport in a limo, dodging buildings, bridges, semis, and everything else in between. They get to the airport, but -Oh no! - the pilot is dead, and ex-wife's boyfriend has taken two flying lessons. But he manages to get them off the ground, narrowly escaping the crumbling of the earth's crust. I mean, the earth is actually crumbling an inch behind the plane as it speeds down the runway. He manages to land them safely in Las Vegas where the world hasn't started ending yet. I know. Bear with me here.

They hop on the world's hugest plane in Vegas (Mom's boyfriend has to co-pilot), and they make it to China without having to refill, because - get this - the countries have shifted however many thousand miles, and China is now in Hawaii. Wow. God must really want these people to live.

So, anyway, they make it to these arks. Elephants and giraffes are strapped to helicopters flying overhead. I mean, it is just ridiculous. But guess what? They survive the end of days! Amazing, right? I thought so, too.

Between the fabulous acting and the captivating plot, how could I possibly think this was a parody? Hello! How could a movie where the world conquers its own extinction not be a parody? Although this was, by far, the worst movie I have ever seen (I never saw Snakes on a Plane), it was still enjoyable. I give it props for being really funny, whether they meant it to be or not. (They had to.)

And a New Job Commences ...

Apologies for my absence. Unfortunately, I have horrible "bloggers block." I don't know what it is about blogging, but it just does not come easily to me. I have a hard time tracking my daily or weekly goings-on. It would be very boring. Trust me.

BUT ... since we last .... well, whatever WE did ... I started a new job. (Yes, yes, thank you.) I now work for a "retail and promotions" agency in Downtown Dallas. I'll leave the name unknown for security reasons. I am a highly-respectable (ahem) Administrative Assistant. Hey, it's a start. The company, though, is fabulous. Although I am a reasonably well-paid gofer, I really enjoy the work and the community. Everyone is super-cool.

I'm not going to bore you with the mundane details of my work, but a few obstacles have presented themselves these past few weeks. My main issue is the family-career balance. I'm pretty sure this is everybody's main problem, unless, of course, they don't have family obligations. But I do.

I had my son, Mason, while I was in college. Being a young parent is especially hard, because you haven't really achieved anything career-wise. No sense of accomplishment exists. Your main claim to fame at age 22 is getting promoted to Assistant Manager at Blockbuster, or something spiffy like that. So, a legitimate career post-college is really important for most of your 20's. The job market is so competitive straight out of college, especially in this economy, so having virtually no experience in whatever you want to segue into does not help. Neither does a college degree, apparently. (Okay, maybe a little.) But having a child PLUS all of the other insecurities that come with post-grad life make everything a bit harder on the nerves.

Anyhoo, at 22, I am still in ME mode. I still want to hang out with my friends, I want to work 50 hours a week and make lots of money. So, I kept on with college, not completely in false hope, but nonetheless ... Mason went to daycare while I was in school, pretty much 9-5. He did fine, aside from perpetual snot-nose. So, I graduate from college (woohoo!), move back in with the 'rents, and look for a job, which was no easy feat, mind you. (To apply online or hit the pavement? That is the question.) I must have been home with Mason everyday for three months ... at least. He LOVED it.

Well, I get this job, and guess what? Little man is going back to school. But I tried to even out family/friend time by putting him in daycare Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays Mason hangs out with Grammy and Aunt Ka-Ka. I thought he would like daycare. He's a sociable guy, you know. I was wrong. Every time I pick him up from daycare or come home from work, he cries when he sees me. My mom says he looks at my stuff during the day and says, in the most pathetic way possible, "Mommy...," even to my saline solution. Sad, huh?

I mean, come on. What mother wouldn't feel horrible? I know he'll get over it, but in the meantime, I'm feeling kind of neglectful. I'm not. I realize this. The alternative is staying home and coddling him all day. No thanks. But there's not really an even balance between work and family. If somebody has it, please clue me in. You can't support your family financially AND stay home whenever you want. If so, you are a freak of nature, and I'm really jealous.

At this age, and for a little while longer, Mason won't understand the importance of me working and how it positively affects his life. By the time he's used to this, he won't even care that I'm gone. So I wonder ... Are kids trained by us not to care that we're gone for 8-12 hours of the day? You only see your parents a few hours a day, and that's just how it is. You're not supposed to see your family as much as your friends. That hardly seems conducive to a healthy lifestyle. And then the cycle continues with your children believing that they need to spend most of their day at work and not home. Don't get me wrong - I support ME time, career time, and all of the above. Except I can't help but notice that family is sacrificed because of our agendas.

But I know that it's my responsibility to instill a sense of family obligation in my son. Regardless of how much time we are able to spend together, that time should be cherished more than our time working or with friends or at the gym or cleaning the house. The end.

Blogging and Such

Blogging. Public diary for the dramatic, star-crossed teenage lover? Not anymore.

I always pictured bloggers as sobbing fifteen year-olds typing angry that-was-way-too-much-information accounts to the general (-ly single, fat, and over forty male) population. But, alas! It is a medium for aspiring, and often times, talented writers.

Being an overly secretive individual, I never thought I would catch myself spewing about life and such to the general (-ly single, fat, and over forty male) population. But as technology would have it, this is surprisingly a good outlet for displaying one's writing chops. There are actually other people besides single, fat, and over forty men reading this - I hope, unless you happen to be offering a legitimate writing/editing position. If so, no offense and please hire me! So here I am, musing about blogging, while dying inside for a writing gig.

Unfortunately, becoming a writer is not as easy as studying writing for 4+ years and then handing a company your diploma. You actually have to have writing experience. But wait! I've been IN SCHOOL learning how to write. Is that not experience? No. No it's not.

You see, while I was diligently scribbling away, some genius was getting paid to learn how to write, not paying to learn how to write. He started out in a lowly position but had talent, thus he was promoted to assist some hot shot editor or what have you FOUR YEARS LATER. He is now making around $30,000 a year, while I am resorting to a blog to try and prove that I can write. Such is life.

So, what did college give me? A few friends who might be around for the rest of my life, a gaping hole in my pocket and then some, a baby (who knew unprotected sex led to single motherhood?), and NO job.

I can't deny that I haven't learned a thing or two:

1. Studying doesn't count for jack, except in Academialand (which is sort of like Neverland -- it's a pretty fun place, but it doesn't exist in real life).
2. One shouldn't pay to learn, if there's an opportunity to get paid to learn. Ignore this if your career dreams require a college education, like biochemical engineering for example. READ #2 fifty times if you're planning on majoring in English like yours truly.

And lastly,
3. Wear a condom, for Christ's sake! It really can happen to you, which makes being jobless that much worse.