Tag Archives: lord of the rings

Marty’s Holy Vigil

14 Dec


‘Member when John Lennon said The Beatles were more popular than Jesus?  That’s the same formula to apply towards Marty’s excitement level for The Hobbit tickets burning a hole in her pocket, versus her Christmas Eve visit from Santa Claus.

…Both are pretty awesome, but one keeps making her tear up and bounce on the sofa seats, staying up all night watching America’s Top Model because she actually, physically, is too excited to close her eyes and try to sleep.

We are going to the seven-something showing.

…And she is waiting that long, out of respect for me…and cuz of a bet.

I am helping her win, by attending this new relaunch of an already sworn-to-hate series (due to my previous experiences of it, as told here), and she, in turn, gave up the midnight showing, so I’m not forced to try and keep awake PLUS do it at four A.M.  We WILL, however, be standing in line from 5 until “whenever,” just so we can pick out the best seats. We chose the theatre with barcaloungers. It’ll be in 3D. A single ticket cost was like $18.

…Out of respect for her, I have taken the prep for this whole thing very seriously. I’ve had Q&A sessions with Ma on “who the hell so-and-so” is and why “la-de-da” matters. I look at all the trailers and supplemental materials they YouTube to me, I’ve seen History Channel documentaries on the sources that Tolkien used to come up with all of it…I’ve participate in games…I’ve even read The Book.

…This all culminated yesterday, in a plug-and-play Hobbit-naming generator tagged on my FB page. I got: Pansy Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern. And when a friend got Prisca Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern, here was my reply:

“…at least with a name like the Ham-sisters we obviously ride on the Tookish wild side…clearly involving gross amounts of mead and — oh @#$%. I’ve been infected. I actually know what all that meeeeeeeans. Noooooooooooooo!”

…So it’s official.

It’s allll fuckin’ over for me.

I know who these people (or thingsies) are, where they came from, and what their traits as races are. I admit: in the last stand of Thorin on the Mountain, I was all butt-hurt and pissed for the Wood Elves, Humans and Bilbo for being treated so crappily. Yes, I laughed at the stupid cave tolls. Fine, I was kinda bummed when those three characters died.

…but this DOES NOT mean I am a clean-cut convert!

I ain’t drunk of the Kool-aid for that whole…LOTR fiasco. It ruined too many Christmases for me. Forgiveness shall not be granted, that.

…And I STILL say they are climbing a lot of fucking hills…AGAIN…for beings in the CONSTANT company of a WIZARD.

(don’t tell me he can’t just whip up some two-second spell and just teleport them there. And if he can’t, he sorta sucks at his job, you guys.)

…And I don’t for the life of me see why the first installment of THREE – count them: THREE movies just for this ONE book – needs to be TWO HOURS and FORTY MINUTES LONG.

…But at least now, I will know what in the hell they are talking about while throwing words like “Wargs,” “Elrond,” “Mirkwood,” “Arkenstone,” and “The Battle of the Five Armies” around.

It doesn’t mean I “like” it or anything.

It just means I am prepared. And at least if a I fall asleep, when I wake up: I’ll know where we are in the scheme of things.


The Butt Bio

14 Oct


If I loved you less, I would pretend I didn’t have time to write tonight’s blog. Truth be told: I’m just not feelin’ it.

…I’m a pretty decent actor, and a hell of a liar (some would say, its the same thing), so I would totally pull it off right now, if I said, “Yeah…I can’t write my blog tonight, cuz I’m too busy writing multiple program bios for my anatomy pieces. I’d do one for my face, but no one would give a shit…they won’t be looking there anyway.”


Instead, I’m going to be only slightly more responsible by not lying. And writing a super short post.

Tonight was first run of the show, top-to-bottom, even with like fifteen days or whatever till Opening. Get to work some stuff tomorrow, which is awesome, (cuz working is the good part.)

…Broke in the new Crockpot today. Four hours on a roast and veggies, served directly after a soaking walk in the rain down on the waterfront.

…Which brings up (again)…WHY make a hooded coat that isn’t waterproof, and forget to tell people that when they buy it. One ASSUMES that “hood” = “a purpose for a hood.” It’s just this idea that MOST people have.

…Yesterday, “M” and I spent a part of the day shopping for girl clothes with no luck at all. But we didn’t care, because we were too busy eating fat amounts of cheese and salami, while guzzling red wine and watching tag-team stand up from the Nexflix stream, doing in-depth “Iliad” Collegiate paper theory Q &A sessions, and watching a “LOTR” documentary on historical sourcing, so I have something to focus on during the next movie, when the plot lines get so stretched out that my eyeballs start rolling back into their sockets, and I pass out. (Mercifully.)

We chicks know how to mix it up, friends.

…Right now, I’m bundled on the couch, it’s raining outside, my contacts are all blurry from too many hours on the clock, and “How I Met You Mother,” is playing on the T.V..

I’m tired, and don’t want to face tomorrow.

I’m wondering if now is a good time to mention this one new thing.

I’m deciding it isn’t.

I would like to hope this will be a productive week…less fires in the workplace, more scenes worked and nailed in rehearsal, general confidence building all-round, and less frequency in freaking out about things that I freak out about for a variety of reasons…each and every day.

It could totally happen.


Lord Of The Rings, & Why I Hate It

20 Sep


Okay, I know this is prob’ly a severely unfair judgement call to a certain extent, but I can’t help it, and here is why–

…But first, let me clarify some things:

I TOTALLY agree that the artistic and nerd-fulfillment beauty and marvel of the movies is not to be doubted.  They are aesthetically gorgeous…and I’m told, painstakingly researched down to the infinitesimal detail, from the original novels. I admit that it earned it’s collection of Oscars, and the books have obviously gained a cult following throughout the universe, that is not to be rivaled in it’s multiple of fiction genres, (few people seem to agree just where it belongs, specifically.)

…That said:

I don’t like them.

…The build up these movies were driven to, before I even had the chance to see the first film, was just a ridiculous level that no one could POSSIBLY deliver.  I was told of this EPIC story of fantasy and politics and good versus evil, and Hobbits and Dwarves and Dragons, and I was all, “Okay, I can get behind that prob’ly,” so I went along with it.

…And I totally fell asleep in the movie.  I lost track after time “three.”

…Granted, I was on a shitload of Benadryl at the time, with a hell of a head cold…but I swear to you, it was the first (and only recollected) time, I have EVER fallen asleep in a movie theatre.  IN MY LIFE.  And I’ve seen me some SLLLLOOOOOW English period dramas, my friends. (Which I happen to love, but that is beside the point.)

…As hour three (or whatever) FINALLY came to a close, and the lights came up…I remember sitting there and saying, “Are you kidding me?  Where is the action? Where’s all that fantasy stuff? They’ve been climbing the same fucking hill for THREE HOURS just now…and I know they’re Hobbit-tiny-people and all…but seriously?!”

“It’s spread out in three installments,” I was told.

“So I have to come back and do this all over again, before we get to the real stuff?!”

“You just don’t understand.  You should read the books,” my helpful friend suggested.

…Which I never did.  Because I’d already spent THREE HOURS being bored with the story so far, why elongate it?  And there was no alternate thing I could blame even, as the picture quality itself was stellar, and the actors buried behind all those elf ears and troll hair were ones I’d loved for ages and had great respect for.  CLEARLY the problem wasn’t the film.  It was the story.

…Which didn’t help the following Christmas, when my totally obsessed Mother, wanted the super-special-torture-me-DVD set, with 47 hours of extended specials on it (cuz the fucker wasn’t long enough already)…which I felt obligated to purchase her. (Though I informed her that I highly disapproved, on “principle.”)

…She paid me back by insisting on putting it in the player immediately. 

It played ALL DAY LONG. 

They were STILL climbing that fucking hill as we ate our dinner. And I had slept through MOST of Christmas, because of it.

…And because Peter Jackson is a sadistic, evil human…he managed to practically RUIN every year, since. (Same hill. Same little Hobbit-people. Same constant nodding off.) Because, thanks to the movies’ super stardom…they even play on cable every Thanksgiving…and for a while there, kept spitting out NEW ones, every Christmas, which I was again obligated to purchase for my mother…who insisted then on continuing the ongoing torture.

…And now there’s ANOTHER “trilogy” that is soon to come out…

…And all I wanna know is: “WHY ME?!? WHAT have I done in life to deserve this kind of consistent torture through the rest of my “forevers,” just cuz I’m a good daughter?!”

…And now “M” has entered my life and decided that SHE is gonna be the one to “break” me on this whole new Hobbit movie deal. THERE ARE PEOPLE PLACING BETS ON IT! What the eff, you guys?! I told ’em I might be dragged…kicking and screaming, to ONE of ’em…but only cuz one of my boyfriends, (Richard Armitage), is in it. Then she got all proud of herself and decided she’d get me to read the books, TOO.

…And so, naturally, I told her where to “get off.”

…To which SHE countered with the offer of doing it “readers theatre” style. Which totally wasn’t playing fair, like AT ALL.

…And I said, “You mean, with all the voices?”

…And she said, “Yep.”

…Which I sorta was okay with a little.

…But then she and Ma started fighting on FB about who gets to read who ,and all. And I finally had to call the kibosh on it:

“Look, people…I don’t give a #%$# who plays who! I don’t know what the hell any of these people’s names are. ‘Oh! I wanna play Harkle of the land of Isith, from the valley of the Smurfs!!!‘ IT MEANS NOTHING TO ME. But so help me God, if I end up having to play all the Tree and Rock people, I’m gonna be PISSED! BE NICE! Or I won’t play with you anymore. OR read your stupid books!”

…And I stand by this.


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