Review: New Moon

New Moon
New Moon by Stephenie Meyer

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

I read this book (and Twilight) out of sheer stubbornness. I wanted to understand the cultural phenomenon that it has become, though I didn't really have any interest in it. the frothing fan base really turned me off of the whole series. To be honest, I was disappointed that I didn't hate the first book. It was okay. Just okay; it wasn't good. I would probably have really liked it when I was 14, which is a good thing, since it is a young adult novel. I moved on to New Moon with tenacity, but I was absolutely bored to tears by it. While the first book was largely a long deliberation on how pretty Edward is, this one was a long lamentation on the fact that he wasn't there any more, and (to me, at least) there was absolutely nothing there that sparked any interest. I will probably read the rest of the series out of pure stubbornness, but I would tell anyone else who wants to understand the crazy cultural phenomenon that no, they don't.

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At A Loss

I want to write. It's not even that; I want to create something. I find myself constantly in a state of creative frustration where all I want is to put pen to paper and write something. It's not as specific as that, however; I would be as happy to write a song, or a poem or to paint or draw or sculpt, I just don't know where to begin. My muse (a concept that I am not entirely supportive of, but that is an aside for another day) has been disconcertingly silent for a long time now. Not only that, but I find myself often frustrated when I do set something to paper (or the applicable media) with the fact that I am not good enough at whatever it is I am doing to create the vision that I started with.

This creative frustration has been a sticking point for me for several months now. Is this something that other people come across? Do other people get accosted by the desire to create, but lack any idea as to what they should actually set out to do?

I have tried to start a bunch of projects, but none have yet turned out the way I envisioned them, and I am left feeling distinctly unsatisfied. I am supposed to be creating the artwork for a hypothetical children's book; maybe that will satiate my creative drive.

For now I have settled myself into a rut of reading often. I know that reading a lot does not make you a good writer, but I can at least direct my energy into absorbing a story and maybe learning something. If nothing else it keeps me from wasting my entire days on the mindless void of arguments and cat pictures that is the internet.


The Merits of Talking to Myself

I have been thinking about this blog lately. About what it is and what it could be and what I want it to be. My problem is that I don't really have any idea of the answer to any of those questions. It isn't really anything now; it is not a place to share information or new ideas, and it is not a place where I try to entertain people. It's not useful or fun, and if it's not either of those, then what is it?

Seems to me that it is more or less a completely self-indulgent collection of my thoughts that I post in when I want to feel like someone wants to know what I think.

I tried having a blog where the goal was to be entertaining, but I ran out of inspiration after about a month. Even then, it was a mishmash of whatever happened to come to my head. It had no cohesive theme or plan. It was just me talking about whatever I happened to want to talk about at any given time. I just tried a little harder for it to be funny. (Which I'm still not sure that it was.)

This blog was always sort of a substitute diary. I feel that, in general, the internet is really better off without those. An individual's thoughts and babblings about their day to day lives (be it me or anyone else) generally speaking, do not interest anyone. No one on the internet really wants to hear how I feel about my day at work, or my armchair psychiatric analyses of why people are the way they are.

Further to that, no one really cares about the deliberation behind what my blog should be about or how it should be presented.

From here, the question becomes whether or not I should continue writing it, knowing that no one wants to hear what I have to say. Why do I try to keep a blog? For the benefit of other people, or myself? We've already covered the fact that it's not for other people, so what benefit does it have for me?

It keeps me literate, there is that. I don't do a lot of writing nowadays, unless it is in chat or email, so some practice is a good thing. That is something that I could do in a personal journal, though. I wonder if that might be a better place for it.

Some part of me still resists the idea of curling into my shell and ceasing my broadcast of inanity altogether. Maybe I just need to feel listened to.

My Little Children's Show

After all the hype that has been happening about this stupid show, I decided to give it an honest try. I watched three whole episodes, thinking that there must be something to this show that is drawing all of these people in. Turns out that no, it is just a children’s show that has drawn an inexplicably large following of adult men from the internet.

And I like to draw while I watch television. There you have it.


I Don't Know How to Internet

I recently sorted out that I seem to use Tumblr wrong. My interpretation was that it was made for sharing original things; for blogging and sharing one's own thoughts and works. This was how I used it for a good long time. It seems that it has since mutated into some badly implemented substitution for email forwards for people who are too computer literate to get in with email forwards.

So now I am left with a blog full of my own things that I put a lot of time and effort into, that I no longer want to use at all because the community at large uses Tumblr for something else altogether, and I just look like an idiot for using it like a blog. So here I am, back with the old standby. Blogger. It has been around forever, and has never really changed. I'll share my thoughts here, and maybe if I am energetic I will make a Wordpress or something where I try to be entertaining like I did on my Tumblr. I have two choices: Stubbornly stick to my methods of posting real content to Tumblr and denying the trend of just reblogging images that make me giggle, or I can leave my Tumblr to die and be buried in images of stills from movies with quotes written on them.

Well Tumblr, it's been a lark.


A Year Later...

I've made the decision to reopen this blog. (Not that it was ever closed, really. Just inactive.) I've also decided that I am not going to worry about whether I am posting things that people need or want to read about. I am going to post what I want. If it bores you, then don't read it. I am totally okay with that. I have another blog where my goal is to amuse and entertain, and where I post very infrequently, as I am not clever often enough. Try that one if this one isn't to your liking. (It's over here.)

I haven't posted in this blog in a year. Well, a little more than a year. My last post was from December of 2010. It is now January of 2012. It has been a long, long time. A lot of things have happened over that year. 2011 was a good and exciting time to be me.

A quick summary of the year:

We lived on King St in Kitchener for the beginning of the year, in a one-bedroom flat. In February, we bought a house. In April we adopted a dog, Daisy, who came with the name Hayley, who is a constant source of craziness in the house. In May we moved into the new house; a three bedroom backsplit on the edge of town, near a swamp but backing on to a storm water pond. Not too shabby. In December (on Christmas day, to be specific,) Bryan proposed to me, and we are now engaged. Life careens on at a startling pace, as usual.

We have started the actual planning stages for the wedding now, and let me just say, even though we opted to go with what seemed like the easy way, it is a daunting task. Cuba is the plan, ideally next winter. I should know more details before the month is out, but for now I field and endless torrent of "do you have a date yet?" with a resounding "...kind of?".


Fitness Boot Camp: Day One

I got in from my first hour long session of “fitness boot camp” a couple of hours ago. Rather, what would have been an hour long if I didn’t get nauseous and start losing my vision half way in to the class. Apparently that kind of thing happens when you try to go from zero exercise ever to crazy intense hour long workouts in one go. Live and learn. To summarize my first efforts: Embarrassing, but that is to be expected.

I made the decision to go with a friend, which did help in some aspects, but just heightened the embarrassment when I had to quit because I was going blind.

Anyway, I don’t yet wish I was dead. I’ve only been resting for a couple of hours, so my muscles are still in that noodle-like stage where they just stop functioning if I ask too much of them. (Down the stairs? Those leg muscles might just abruptly stop catching you when you hit that next step.) BUT; they are not yet sore. I am actually feeling like I may not have to force myself to go to the next one. It is good for me, after all. (My mantra during this ordeal is “this is good for me.” We’ll see if it sticks.) If you asked me right now how I feel about going to another 11 of these sessions, I would say pretty good. I have a sneaking suspicion that if you ask me the same question tomorrow, I will break down and weep unreservedly.


It's Been a Hell of a Year


Thinking back on 2011, it’s been a crazy ride. Went to Cuba. Started and gave up on a small business. Adopted a dog. Learned to hang glide. Bought a house. Went camping. Got engaged.

Don’t get me wrong, there have been challenges also, but looking back on the whole year, I’d say they are vastly dwarfed by the awesome things that went on. It seems to me that we went all of a sudden from a couple of no-longer-students to a couple of adults starting a life together. As much as that is kind of sappy, I really feel that way.

January 2011, we were still living in a flat in sketchy downtown Kitchener, living like students and not really doing much of anything. All of a sudden, things started happening like crazy, and now we’re verging on being real life adults. We have a house and a mortgage and a yard and a cat and a dog and a spare bedroom and … you know, everything. And this happened all in one year. I’m sure you can appreciate how that may be a little overwhelming.

So now, on to the next adventure, I suppose. The next arbitrarily assigned number begins, as the last one draws to a close. I’m not one to make resolutions, as I know that I always aim high and then give up early on. I won’t promise to run a marathon or lose a hundred pounds or write a novel. My plan is to do what I did the last year, and hope it turns out as well. A day at a time, one foot in front of the other.

So, happy new years to everyone, and I hope your year is always better than the last one.