Tag Archives: Alan Rickman

Truly, Madly, Deeply: R.I.P., Alan Rickman

I woke up to the news that Alan Rickman was dead. Ian had messaged me as I slept, and it was a shock when I looked at my social media and saw the dozens of well-wishes and condolences. Immediately, I went into denial. No, Alan Rickman was not dead–how could he be? How could my one true love* be dead? I read link after link, but it still seemed surreal. He had been fighting cancer–fuck cancer, by the way–and today, he lost that fight. Once I accepted it was true (on the surface, I don’t think I’ve fully accepted it yet), I cried. Full-on cried. I have had a crush on Alan Rickman for such a long time, and even though I knew he was older than I by twenty-five years, I had hoped that he’d be with us for many years to come.

I am not one to crush out on celebrities. Don’t get me wrong. I think there are hot actors such as Kate Winslet, Gina Torres, Helen Mirren, Ewan McGregor, Daniel Dae Lewis, and Idris Elba to name a few. I’ve drooled over Christina Hendricks and Salma Hayek and Michael Fassbender, not to mention (please, I’d really prefer you didn’t) all those carefully-tressed hair metal bands of the eighties. But, I’ve never cared much about them in real life, not to be rude about it. I’d read about them and be interested in what they have to say, but mostly, I just enjoyed looking at them and watching them/listening to them do their thing. Alan Rickman was different, for whatever reason. The first thing I really noticed him in was Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (though I was first attracted to Jason Isaacs, as you can see in this review. Please also note that even that early, I was pretty sure Snape was a good guy, and, yes, I’m tooting my own horn), even though I’d seen him before–including in the first Potter movie. He’s not typically handsome, and appreciating him takes time. There’s something about viewing the movie more than once, especially the scene in which he’s spelling that ponce played by Kenneth Branagh, that made me hot for him. It’s weird because he had that goofy wig on, but something about the voice and the masterful way he wielded his wand made me instantly smitten with him. Just below is a video with all his scenes from the movie, which is the way I watch a lot of his movies, tbh. He’s been in many shitty movies, but he’s always tackled each role with gusto and verve.


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Happy New Year and Shit

2010 is about to be history.  Gone, in the blink of both eyes.  2011 is on the way in, and she looks to be a feisty one.   I ruminated in my last post as to how fast this year went.  And, now as is my wont, I am looking back over the year to see the good, the bad, and the down right ugly. First, the good.  Well, I pretty much detailed that in the last entry and in the one previous to that.  But, I will just add that I am in a better place emotionally than I have been in years.  Decades.  My lifetime, probably.  And, again, it’s not necessarily because of different circumstances or anything like that.  It’s because of the hard, boring, tedious inner work I’ve done over decades.   And, I mean decades. When I think back to the person I was in my early twenties, she is unrecognizable to me.  Trapped in two eating disorders, but denying it, being someone completely foreign to me.  I had reinvented myself before going to college because I was such a loser as a kid, but the second incarnation of me was only better on the surface.  And, it caused me lots of pain as well. As incarnation 2.2 (the upgrade), I did manage to get an MA in Writing & Consciousness, so not all was a failure.  Alas, I also got my heart thoroughly trounced on for the second time and decided that love was for others and not for me.  I pouted and sulked a lot, if I remember correctly. I have written before about the lost 15 years, and I will do so again.  From the time I was 22 until the time I was 37, I shut down.  I hurt so much, I decided that the only way to survive was to go into an emotional coma.

And, survived, I did.  Barely.  Dubiously. But, I am alive today, so survived I must have.

I would like to say, I cannot emphasize how much Taiji has helped me.  I’ve been at it for almost three years now, and my emotional health has gotten steadily better since I started practicing Taiji.  It’s not because I have some magical Asian gene that allows me to do this shit by osmosis.  Believe me, I don’t have that gene. And, in addition, I’m lazy.  So, I haven’t practiced nearly as much as I should have/could have/would have.  I’ve been frustrated with myself because I know that I feel better after practicing, and I know that practicing Taiji puts me in a better place.
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The Tempus, It Fugits

I cannot believe how fast this year has sped by.  It seems like just yesterday I was standing on the edge of the Taroko Gorge and contemplating jumping off.  I had escaped death there many years ago, and I thought maybe it was my fate to die there.

As I looked down, I was aware of how fat, hot, and miserable I was.  It was the first time our family had been together in years, and it was not on my home turf.   I wanted to end it all.

Somehow, I managed to not kill myself on that trip.  I survived, though barely.  My parents sent me ‘this is everything that’s wrong with you’ emails that nearly broke me.   This was in March of this year, and I sank into a depth of despair.  Why the fuck was I alive?  How the hell could I ever make my family proud of me?

This took up much of my therapy sessions early in the year.  At some point, though, I just snapped.  Or rather, my despair snapped.  As my therapist pointed out many months later, going to Taiwan, however hard it had been,  was the event that triggered many of the changes I made in this last year.  I realized that all the hiding of my true self I did around my family wasn’t enough–they were never going to be happy with the fake me, so I might as well let the real me come out to play.  It wasn’t a conscious decision–I just couldn’t pretend any more.

It was actually a relief to realize that the fake-me wasn’t good enough, and I could toss her away.  (Like it’s that easy.  Yeah, right).  Even if the real me isn’t good enough for my family, I haven’t lost anything, anyway.  And, it’s easier, if scarier, to be the real me than to be the fake me.
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Updates! Read All About It!

Listen up, folksHello.  It’s been awhile.  This feels strange, and yet, it’s also familiar.   I want to thank everyone who has told me that s/he misses my blogging.  I appreciate it more than you know.  I have missed blogging.  Obviously, not enough to do it again.  At least, not here.

Newest news:  I’m blogging over at Angry Black Lady’s place.  Here is one of her posts that she cross-post over at Balloon Juice.  This is my intro post, but not my actual first post.  I was ridiculously nervous after posting my first post that I couldn’t sleep.  I asked myself why.  I mean, I blog here about very intimate, difficult, and personal things.  However, I’m not likely to offend anyone by what I write here (except for my lifestyle choices).  In the world of political blogging, if I am not offending someone, then I am doing it wrong.

My fears were for naught.  I was welcomed warmly into the fold, and I’m having a blast.  ABL also asked Emily Hauser (ee) to cross-post as well.  Here is her intro post.  Notice the difference.  As I have been joking, ABL is the sassy one; Emily is the classy one; I am the brassy one.  ABL is hilariously funny and spot-on in her rantings.  Emily is a warm, delightful, thoughtful blogger who always makes me think, whether I want to or not.  She is also funny.  Me?  Well, you all know I’m rude, raucous, and long-winded.  But, I’m also funny as hell and good with a phrase or two.  And, I have deep complex thoughts at times.  However, blogging over there is very different from blogging here (like I have to get the facts straight.  I am NOT FOX News), and I’m still finding my groove.   The biggest thing is that I’m trying valiantly to cut down on my word count, and I’m succeeding somewhat.
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Closing the Curtains

curtainsHello.  In my last entry, in addition to posting the pics of me as Miss Indy Pedant, the foul-mouthed fifties housewife, I teased that I had been mulling something over for the past month or two.  I said, “Hey, watch this space for a kinda big announcement.  It’s coming.  It’s gonna be (kinda) BIG.   Really, I mean it.”

Well, it’s time for me to make that announcement.  I have known for at least two weeks that this time was at hand–it’s just, I didn’t want to acknowledge it.  OK.  Deep breath.  Announcement first, and then explanation (as opposed to my usual M.O. of explanation first, and then announcement).

–DEEP BREATH–

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The Last Snowfall*

Sunday morning, we’re up at the break of dawn.  An ungodly hour.  Actually, Rose got up first because she actually had to be presentable for her job.  The rest of us could just roll out of bed, throw on a t-shirt and shorts and go.  We were out of the room and on the road by eight.  I have to say, the hotel had enforced valet parking, which struck me as odd.  Kel said it’s pretty common around there, but I’d never seen it before.  Anyway, we went through the McDonald’s drivethru for breakfast.  None of us go to Mickey D’s very often, but they are everywhere.  We had our own Three Stooges moment with trying to figure out what everyone wanted, but we eventually got our order straight.

Can I let you in on a little secret?  I love McDonald’s sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit.  I know!  It’s so bad for me, but it tastes soooo good.   I washed it down with a hazelnut iced decaf latte with skim milk, which was yummy, too.   Of course, the breakfast sat in a lump in my stomach for a good two hours, but it was so worth it.

Kel and I chatted as Rose read, Irish Dancer did her puzzle book, and I’m assuming Punk Girl listened to her music.  She was way in the back, so she might as well have been in Siberia as far as I was concerned.

Like a true OCD child, Irish Dancer couldn’t skip a puzzle once she started it (I sympathize), and she was asking us for help now and then.  One of the puzzles had the theme of rhyming colors (yellow fellow, for example), which is when I went on my own OCD kick.  The clue was something like icy metal (cold gold was the right response).  I started tossing out ice words like frigid and gelid.  Then, I got stuck on gelid and started rhyming to see if I could come up with a color that rhymed with it.

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Blue Caravan*

On with my travelogue!  And yes, Alan Rickman will figure into it eventually.  I am not just pimping his name to inflate his cloud, I promise you.

OK.  Saturday morning.  Soccer Boy woke me up at ungodly o’clock.  I got ready, and then I gave the puzzle to Soccer Boy so he could reset it.  He did, saying with a smirk, “At least I didn’t solve it before resetting it” and then handed it to me.  I replied something to the effect of, “If you did, I’d have to kill you.”  Then this sweet boy looked at me and told me not to bury him “there” (and he pointed outside) because there are rocks there.  We then spent about a half an hour riffing on burying his body in Jersey (Kel has a friend who lives there).

Then, Kel came down and made the beignets.  Oh my god.  It’s like a little slice of heaven doing a happy dance in my mouth.  Nom nom nom beignets and powdered sugar–a great way to start the day.

Then, I got to watch the highly-amusing drama of Punk Girl sullenly moving around while slowly waking up and Irish Dancer racing around because she’s late, she’s late, for a very important date!  Then, we were off to the soccer fields which were an hour away.

Kel is the team photographer, so we sat in the end-zone.  Oh, wait, back the truck up!

Kel gave me my birthday prezzies in the morning, and they were goooood.  First is the t-shirt I am wearing right now.  It’s black (of course), with a snowwoman on it.  She has her stick hands on her hip and is giving attitude.  It says, “SNOW GIRL” right under her.  I’ve been wearing it ever since Kel gave it to me.  Next up was the second LOLCat book.  Since I love the website and I have the first book, it was great to get the second.  Last up was a gorgeous handmade journal from the Dominican Republic.  It’s beautiful.  She rocks.

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Consider My Mind Blown

OK.  I have to share with you how my mind was blown by visiting Kel.  As is my wont, it’s going to take some time, so sit back and relax.  Yes, grab your favorite beverage as I don’t want you to get dehydrated.

First, I have to give you some background on my family–specifically, my brother’s family.  At his house, I am not allowed to say gosh (derivative of God), darn (damn), shoot (shit), or anything that resembles any swear word in the slightest.  When my niece was young, I once was having a conversation with my brother in which I said something was stupid in response to something he said.  My SIL overheard us and got that ‘I just ate a lemon’ look on her face.   She said in a snippy voice, “We don’t use the word stupid in this house.”

I didn’t say anything, but I thought many nasty thoughts.  Stupid is a perfectly good word, and it wasn’t as if I was calling a person stupid–though I don’t think that should be a problem, either, as there are many stupid people in the world.  I love words, so it bothers me when someone bans one for no good reason.  Dare I say it’s stupid?  I do!

In addition, my brother is worried that I am a bad influence on my niece because she looks up to me so much.  I cannot talk about being bi, about not being a Christian, about premarital sex (not that I would, anyway), about my vaguely pagan beliefs, or anything else, really.  I have pretty much stopped going over there because I am not really wanted.  Plus, my SIL can suck the joy out of a room without saying a word.  I dealt with that with my father while I was growing up; I do not want to do the same now.

Because of my experience with my family, I was wary stepping into another person’s family.  Kel kept telling me to be myself, but I couldn’t quite believe that I should take her at her word.

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We Are Family

Welcome back, bitchez. Grab your favorite beverage, sit back and relax while I tell you about the wild goings-on that happened over the weekend. I finally got to meet my twin, Kel, in person, and boy did we have a ball. I got to lick her bunny and watch her strip her chicken!

I was nervous as I got off the plane because I still harbored the fear that I would disappoint Kel. It’s something that is ingrained in me from years of disappointing my real family. I had learned my lesson well–I am not enough. No matter how much Kel reassured me that I just had to be myself, I still had a fluttering of doubt as I stepped off the plane. Before I went, I emailed her to see what I should and shouldn’t say in front of her kids. She told me to just be myself, which wasn’t very reassuring to me. I told her I was bringing underwear because I didn’t want to offend/disturb anyone by going commando under my boxers. She told me not to be ridiculous–they didn’t wear unders, either, under their boxers. Still, I packed the panties just in case.

I called Kel as I got off the plane, and to my dismay, she didn’t answer. She ALWAYS has her phone on. I told her to turn on her damn phone and that I would see her in a few minutes.

When I saw her, I hugged her tightly and felt as if we were just continuing a conversation that we had started a year ago. We started babbling at each other as she took a pic of us to send the kids, her sis, and her husband. I stuck out my tongue, and we were off to the races after that.

Her house is an hour away from the airport. On the way, I texted everyone who texted her and made ribald suggestions (no, really?). She and I talked about everything under the sun, including what we were going to do the next day. The kids were at home waiting for us to return, despite the fact that it was going to be after midnight by the time we finally touched down. As we approached her house, two kids burst out of the garage door and started fighting with each other. Kel laughed and said they were fighting to see who would hug me first. I had started to get out of the van, but I quickly got back in and joked that I was skeered of them.

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Late Night Grumblings

My idea of perfection is Alan Rickman, chocolate, pizza, and sex (though not necessarily all at the same time.  That could get a bit messy).

I am in a down mood; I have been since my birthday, actually.

First of all, I am stoked to meet Kel, her sister, and her brood.  I cannot wait to hear Vienna (though it’ll be in Norfuck Norfolk, VA, and not Oriental), and I am excited to see how Kel is going to shoot me (with a camera, of course).  I don’t take good pics, so I’m curious to see what she can do with Alejandro (her trusty camera).

That said, I still have a shit-load to do before I go.  The house is still a mess, and I have a day and a half to clean it.  I also have my session in the morning.  I also have to wash my hair, and I probably will do one more load of laundry.  I also have that job hunt to do and other shit (including losing weight).  Instead, I sit on my flat ass and do nothing of importance.

My best friend and I had a heated discussion Friday night about regrets.  She’s the type to not regret things in life in part because she looks at the bigger picture.  She says, “Do I regret doing this?”  While the experience may have been painful, overall, she’s glad she did that or this or whatever.  On the other hand, I am all about regrets.  There are more experiences in my life that I would give up wholeheartedly than keep.  The abuse by my father?  Gone.  My entire childhood, in fact, would be erased.  Thailand?  Goodbye.  My relationship with D, I would keep.  My relationship with M, I would not.

In addition, I wanted to cut off some experiences at some point.  She said I couldn’t do that, and I said why not if we were playing pretend, anyway?

By the way, I hate the heat.  I am unbelievably grumpy right now.  I am wearing my South Park boxers, shirtless, my hair braided,  and still sweating like a pig.  I have SAD in the hot seasons, and I’m not Miss Perky at the best of times.

Oh, and FYWP (fuck you, Word Press).  I just lost more than half this post.  Fuckers.  I will try to reconstruct, but it won’t be easy.

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