Goodbye Gut

In 13 days I will be boarding a plane to a new place. Not just any new place, but an entirely different continent. I'm not sure if I'm excited, exhausted, or completely terrified. Perhaps I am all of the above. Whatever it is I'm feeling, it is a weird one. I feel despondent and earnest all at the same time. My gut is wrapped up in some sort of foreign knot that is begging to be undone but doesn't know how. I don't know if I want to write, read, create, get laid or scream. But I need some sort of release. Maybe it is a strangeness that comes from waiting. Waiting to be finished with goodbyes and have my feet planted in Australian soil. I'm going to assume it is the goodbyes that I am just ready to be done with. I have been saying goodbye to people my whole life. Such is the way of a child of divorce. You say goodbye to daddy every other weekend, goodbye to daddy's relatives even more often. And such is the way of someone that has been exposed to death frequently and often. I've said goodbye to four friends, all far to young, in the past four years alone. And such is the way of someone in the military. You meet, love, leave, and forget people in the blink of an eye. And sometimes you don't forget, you forge bonds with people that can only be forged by soldiers. It's an understanding that time, though not irrelevant, is in fact relative. Three months is not a measurement of time but a measurement of experience- the experiences those you connect with can have in that short amount of time. They are condensed but they are extraordinary. When I left home, left basic, left AIT...I still had the belief that goodbyes were always temporary, that I would see those that I loved again. Now, four years later I don't feel this way at all. As I say goodbye to people, I say goodbye knowing that it is quite possibly the last time I will ever see them. It's overwhelming. I am used to goodbyes, but somehow, these goodbyes are not the same. They're hard. 

I have goodbye gut.

And it isn't pleasant.

Oh Captain, My Captain!

Wrote this when the movie came out and for whatever reason it did not publish.
Hey kids,

This is Red, back for another rambling!

Let's talk Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

WOW.

I'm having trouble with this review for the simple reason that I just want to tell you to just go see it. So I'll keep it short.

1. This film isn't for the superhero lover, it's for the action movie lover; because that's what it is, a kick ass action film.

2. If you didn't like the first one because it was "to much like a recruiter's video", get over it. Captain America was created for kids living the nightmare of WW2, he's intentionally patriotic and I like it. That being said, this new one is nothing like the first.

3. I recant my statement from my RoboCop review about Samuel L. Jackson "just not doing it for me". There are a few roles I like him in: Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction, Elijah Price in Unbreakable, and Nick Fury. He never overdose this character and in this newest Marvel installation we get to see a lot more of Mr. Fury. Samuel L. brings it this time around.

4. If you didn't see the first one, you don't need to. This is a stand alone film.

5. GO SEE THE DAMN MOVIE. Seriously, go see it and then we can talk about the film how I want to talk about the film.

I'll leave you with this,

Coming to Terms

I started this blog with the intentions of filling it with movie reviews. Like a lot of things I start, I didn't stick to that. A year after I posted the reviews I came across this blog by accident, I had basically forgotten about it. That's ok, I am going to fill it with whatever the fuck I want to. I feel a build up of angst that borders writer's block lately. I am not sure if I am trying to write and failing and that is pissing my off or if I am pissed off and trying to use writing as a means of relieving that. I don't think it matters either way. On that note, I do not want this to be a rant bible of a hormonal woman either,a modern Xanga of a habitually immature adult- the world need not be subjected to that. (on the slim chance someone actually reads it).

As of late, my morbid fascination with most things horror has grown immensely, like a cold sore you can't stop licking. During a discussion with Michael Berry (Pluto from The Hills Have Eyes circa 1977, you know, the bald guy with no eyebrows) he said something to me that just plain made sense. Basically, people love horror because it is therapy. BLASPHEMY YOU SAY? With all the rotten shit we see on the news, that endless cycle of ignorance, violence, stupidity and the unthinkable that plagues media; we need something that ISN'T real to be afraid of. When we watch a slasher film or read a particularly gruesome story, we indulge knowing one thing is certain- we will survive it. At the end of The Thing it doesn't matter if Mac is the monster or not, when we close the final chapter of Pet Sematary it's ok that Gage had to die again, because we live. We go on about our life unchanged and slightly more cultured. There is no mourning, there is no PTSD, there are no scars. The rules are, it isn't real, so we may forget it. Or maybe Mr. Berry is all wrong and we really are a bunch of twisted fucks. There are worse things in life.

Like realizing you are a people pleaser. Today I realized this. Don't get me wrong, I like what I like and I do what I do and if you don't then move on along. But I also feel bad when I shouldn't, avoid confrontation at all times and quite frankly let people make choices throughout my day that they are absolutely not entitled to make. There is a fine line in life between strategically letting people have their way and being a goddamn push over. Most of my cognitive years I stayed on the side of never wanting to please anyone, but as of the past couple of years I have teetered toward the side of letting people steer my direction throughout the day. It comes in waves and usually involves men or my group of friends at the time. Today I took a moment to wonder, at what point in time did I go back on the life scale and let myself be subjected to what is essentially peer pressure? That shit is not my style. So today I will turn the page and remember to find that line and walk across it like a mothafuckin' balance beam.

I picked up a book in Barnes and Noble yesterday that was a 365 things to do each day that scare you type of book. Normally I find those types of things cheesy but I liked the idea of this one. A man I look up to as a mentor said to me "if it isn't scary, it isn't fun". To be honest, I am afraid of all kinds of things but about a year ago I decided that if I was afraid of it I would take it by the horns and give myself a chance to not be afraid of it. Taking on that perspective taught me something I didn't expect to learn- everyone else is just as afraid as I am.

Today I am afraid that I care what people think at times when it is not important and care very little when it actually counts.

Tomorrow I will be the only person making decisions for myself. Tomorrow I will not worry what someone has to think as I walk away after NOT telling them what they want to hear.