Tuesday, February 28, 2012

What I Miss (And What I Don't) From Having Anorexia.

(I wrote a post about what I missed and didn't miss from being an obese post-adolescent.  I figured, because this week is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, that I should follow that up with the other end of the spectrum.  I fall into the unhappy category of those who have experienced both sides, yet the triumphant category of those who are on the positive side of recovery from both as well.  It needs to grow.)

You know what I really miss about being anorexic?

I miss control.  

...Huh. That's about it.

There is nothing else I miss about that vindictive, vitriolic, SOB of a disorder.  It is consuming, self-flagellating, self-congratulatory, and ultimately heartbreaking.  How dare I miss one second of that isolation? Except for the comfort of control, I miss none of it.  And there is a lot of comfort in knowing exactly how your day is going to turn out.

What I don't miss:
everything. else.
I don't miss being dizzy when I stand up.
I don't miss pulling clumps of my hair out in the shower.
I don't miss having nothing to wear because my clothes were falling off.
I don't miss having grey/yellow skin, the result of eating baby carrots to replace real food.
I don't miss measuring my wrists with my thumb and forefinger to see how small my arms were getting.
I don't miss being afraid to get out of bed.
I don't miss the dry, bleeding knuckles from the lack of fat in my diet.
I don't miss low calorie high fiber turkey wraps for lunch (actually...I still eat these but I put a shitload of avocado in there too.  FAT.)
I don't miss nearly passing out in gyms.
I don't miss actually passing out in restaurants, rehearsal halls, bedrooms.
I don't miss the self-satisfied feeling of victory when I pulled on a size 2.  I also don't miss the crying fits when I'd eat broccoli and the size 2s would be a little snug.
I don't miss feeling weak.
I don't miss being vegan because I thought it would make me lose weight.
I don't miss trying to reintroduce fat into my diet and my body rejecting it because it was so foreign.
I don't miss fearing infertility when I lost my period for 2 years.
I don't miss being powerless.
I don't miss crashing.
I don't miss vitamin/calcium deficiency.
I don't miss being worried about going on dates because, omg, what if the food at the restaurant made me fat?
I don't miss the panic attacks.  Oh, the panic attacks.
I don't miss the early days of yoga classes, of getting obsessed and going every day because I just wanted the 'yoga body', of being so upset and afraid and not wanting to deal with the openings that were going on in my emotions that I would fall to the floor in tears.
I don't miss finding crap like Walden Farms Zero Calorie Peanut Butter (WTF?!) in the store and actually getting psyched about it.  And that Better'N Peanut Butter crap, too.
I don't miss working out for three hours so I could have a piece of cake and a glass of wine at a friends' house.
I don't miss counting calories on websites.
I don't miss weighing myself every morning and figuring out my food based on if I had gained or lost.
I don't miss eating until my stomach hurt because I was so hungry I was blacking out.
I don't miss being so. goddamn. hungry.
I don't miss clearing out my kitchen at 4PM.
I don't miss people telling me "You look so skinny" and feeling smug about it.
I don't miss trying to lose my curves and looking like a displaced Skeletor in the process.  Oh, my poor butt.  I'll never leave you again.
new year's eve 2009.  I'm just glad anorexia didn't take away my flawless fashion sense.  At least, not at first.

So what happened?

Everything.

I cried.  I laughed.  I played.  I worked.  I slept in.  I got up early.  I drank so much coffee I'm probably part Ethiopian.  I ran.  I stopped.  I ran some more. I did so much freaking yoga I'm shocked I still have arms.  And I ate.  I ate food. I ate life.  I ate love.

Recovery is so much less of a struggle when you have a strong support system.  And post-recovery is even better when you have people around you who tell you they love you every day, and tell you you are beautiful every day, for reasons that have nothing to do with the size on the back of your jeans.

I'm full.

I am a survivor.  Of binge eating.  Of obesity. Of compulsive exercise bulimia.  Of diet pill abuse.  Of anorexia.

I am hesitant to say I am fully recovered, because eating disorders are like alcoholism in my opinion; once you have one, you will have it sitting in your presence for the rest of your life and it is your choice to feed or famish it.  But before you get your hypocrite hammers out, let me reiterate that when I do make little lapses in judgement, or I have a moment of weakness, it is not because I've been starving myself or working out for hours at the gym.  It mostly comes from stress from school and life manifesting itself in ways that probably aren't the best for me.  I also have the odd distinction of being someone who was obese, then anorexic, so I do have to watch my diet and make sure I'm making healthy decisions simply because I have health issues in my family that relate to weight.  But I don't freak out anymore.  And I don't skip dessert.  Ever.  I didn't even give it up for Lent.  (I gave up Twitter, if you were wondering why I haven't Tweeted in a week.)

But I am human.  I mess up.  I have my moments when I lapse into lack of better judgement calls and make stupid mistakes.  I'm learning.  I'm still relatively young-ish.  I have a lot of years ahead of me, and I want to spend them with the fullest of my vitality.  I owe it to the world to give it the best of myself.  I still have foods that make me nervous, but doesn't everyone?

Plus, I really, really like my body.  I don't see myself changing it for anyone else any time soon.  That tummy I tried so hard to get rid of, to lean out, to shred up? That butt that disappeared? I welcome it back with arms wide open.  How dare I attempt to shrink myself? I should be expansive.  I am expansive.  I could span the world.

Also throw on there my small chest, wide hips, soft stomach, big legs, broad shoulders and crooked smile.  My strength.  My silliness.  My grace.  My awkwardness.  My empathy.  My strength.  My humanity.



Because you only get one body.  Might as well work it.  Or, to put it in more colloquial terms, WERK.

Rock it.  Werk it.  And honor it.  Because it's the only one you'll get. Might as well throw an awesome party in the best house you can.  Your house.  Your body.

I wrote this piece to honor and celebrate National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.  It's time to talk about it.  And I will always be here to listen.


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.


Tuesday, January 31, 2012

send me the moon.

So.  There has been one consistent question I've gotten in the nearly 3 (!!) years I've been blogging.  I can't call myself a 'blogger' because I don't live for a machine.  I'm a graduate student, activist, yogini, part-time professor, full-time curmudgeon, and future cat and sweatpants lady.  I can't be bothered to call my corner of bitchery on the internet a 'job'.  Besides, it doesn't pay me at all.  It's more something that's fun.  Entertaining word vomit for the masses.  Oh, joy.

Back to the task at hand.  The one question that I keep getting over and over again is, "You're the one who does all the plays, right? When are we going to hear you sing?"

It's something I've put off for a long, long time, mostly because I didn't want to get made fun of by my friends, slammed by my critics (all 3 of you) and pimped out by the people who are higher-up than me.  So be advised: I am not putting this video up on my blog to A) get a record deal or B) secure the marriage proposals of Ryan Gosling or Chris Evans.  That is not what this is about.  This is just me, finally attempting to be comfortable in my own skin.  A few things have happened in my life that have led me to this point, and I don't feel okay with discussing them to strangers (although I consider you more acquaintances I've never met than strangers, but the point is slightly moot), but let me just say that I feel pretty fearless at the moment.  I know exactly what I want, and I'm slowly attempting to get it.  This video is a reflection of getting to a point where I can put myself out on an emotional limb and not really worry about getting ripped apart.  (although I'll probably get heart palpitations for about half an hour after publishing this.)

On to the video.  But first, a backstory.  I'm a writer, we all love some backstory.

As most of you know, I graduated from the University of Connecticut with a degree in straight theater, but my true and intense/obsessive love are musicals.  I've been singing and dancing since I was 4 years old, ever since my Mom bought me the New Kids on the Block and Tiffany tapes.  My earliest memories of inside Gampel Pavilion are hiding behind a basketball hoop, crying, as my sister and several members of Dad's team implored me to come out and sing "Tomorrow" from Annie.  I still have a complex about that show.  I moved to NYC, developed tremendous performance anxiety, and haven't done a complete musical in about 3 years.  I did a revue last summer that was tons of fun, but it was an amalgam of songs culled from different sources.

These days, my singing is reserved for the shower, the car, and my nephew.  I swear, my rendition of "ABC" is a huge hit in the Stigliano household.  But I was doing a lot of thinking about what kind of image I want to present of myself on this blog.  Yes, I'm a nerd who spends most of my time reading about medieval manuscripts and flailing about how one of my graduate seminars is dealing with texts like Scott Pilgrim and Watchmen.  But I also have another side to me that likes to cook a late dinner after yoga and sing Sara Bareilles into the internet machine.  So...I hope this video will give you a better look at the side of Ally that rarely comes up on the blog.*
*I am a classically trained opera singer, so don't worry...I'm not one of those idiots on American Idol who swears they know how to sing and then they sound like someone is bludgeoning a weasel with a violin.  I actually can sing my face off.  But bear in mind, this video is coming from two years of zero voice lessons and coffee, both of which aren't too kind to your vocal cords.  So be nice.  

Ignore my obscenely large forehead, the really bad glare, my constant looking down at the lyrics on my phone, and the fact that it wasn't until the end of the video that I realized I have my sweater on backwards.  Benjamin Franklin's autobiography really takes the juice out of your noggin.  Singing and writing are the only times I feel my most emotionally exposed.  Rated X, for Xtremely Vulnerable.

The song I picked, "Send me the Moon", is one of my favorites on Sara Bareilles' 2010 offering Kaleidoscope Heart.  I like it because it comes at the tail end of an album that does a lot of really expansive and experimental work with Sara's sound, and it offers a quiet closer to an otherwise pretty loud and take-charge record.  It's simple, sweet, and carries a message I think a lot of people can relate to.

I also apologize for the sound issues...I was apparently too awesome for my computer's mic and there's some reverb.


Now off to read more Benjamin Franklin and collapse into bed.  To appropriate my TA class motto, "Words is Hard."

Myself and my forehead thank you in advance for your mature critique, if you have any, of this video.

ally

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Best of 2011.

I know.  It's 2012.  I should've already posted my "Best of 2011" before the clock turned forward to the next year.  But I was preoccupied losing a lot of money in a few games of Left Right And Center on New Year's Eve.  


It has been one wild ride of a year.  I have adopted the new "Timeline" on Facebook, and after  being tremendously confused for a few minutes I spent a little time looking over my updates from January 2011 to now. I sometimes would think "Oh my God.  That happened too? THAT happened?" I didn't know it was possible to stuff as many things as I did this year.


I've been busier than ever before.  I've been crazier than normal.  I've had medical procedures and nearly died in a car accident.  I traveled to Indiana twice and loved one trip and hated the other (guess which one?).  And I'm currently writing this from the self-dubbed 'breakfast nook' of my new condo.  I meant to move in last July, but life has other plans sometimes.  I'm here now, and that's the important thing.

What better time to start working on a "Best Of" blog?  Of course, every news outlet right now is putting out their own spin of this list.  But I'd like to think I added some things that you won't find in Rolling Stone.

BEST OF 2011 According to Me

Albums:
Adele, 21
The scars of your love remind me of us, they keep me thinking that we almost had it all.
I know, I know.  Adele is on so many "Best Of" lists this year it's probably the epitome of cliche that I list her here.  But I've been a fan of her since 2008 when her first album, 19, came out, so I was pumped to hear she had put out a new one.  I listened to her first single "Rolling in the Deep" like a woman possessed for the first month of the year, (that line "You're gonna wish you never had met me" is KILLER) but it wasn't until the album was released and I heard her sing "Someone Like You" on Ellen that I was completely blown away.  This was light years beyond anything she had done on 19, and I immediately ran out and got the entire CD and listened to it nonstop for about three months.  Ten originals and one flawless cover of "Love Song" by The Cure later, I was bawling like a child.  Adele's poignant lyrics are given weight with her incinerating fireball of a voice.  I hope her vocal surgery doesn't alter it too much, because it is an incredible gift that she wields with the skill and lightness of a lightsaber.

The Black Keys, El Camino
She's the worst thing I've been addicted to, I still run right back, run right back to her
I can't really be articulate about this band.  Anything I say about them just comes out "UGH, they're so good.  Go listen NOW." But that's not the best review.  I first heard about the Black Keys from Kelly Clarkson, of all people.  I went to her concert two years ago and heard her cover "Lies" and proceed to pimp the Black Keys for about half an hour after that.  I immediately went home and found some of their songs and fell in love, but it wasn't until they came out with Brothers in 2010 that I realized the true length of their artistic genius.  This CD picks up where that one left off with its infectious lead single "Lonely Boy" (and its hilarious video of a man dancing to the track in one continuous 3-minute take).  It is still relatively new (it dropped less than three weeks ago) but that should not stop you from getting onto your computer, logging on to iTunes, and downloading the crap out of this album.  Every single track reeks of nostalgic basement rock.  Nobody does Akron garage sound like these guys do.  It is ridiculously grungy, dirty, sexy, poppy funk.  (While you're at it, go download Brothers, their 2010 record ("Tighten Up" is genius) and also Dan Auerbach's solo album, Keep It Hid.  Genius.)

The Civil Wars, Barton Hollow
Dancing with a ball and chain, through it all we still remain, like butterflies around a flame, till ashes, ashes, we fade away
Yes, they are one of those indie bands that shot to fame when their leadoff single was featured in a particularly moving moment of Grey's Anatomy.  Haters gon' hate.  I really don't know how to categorize The Civil Wars.  They sound like Alison Krauss took a shot of whiskey.  Or if the soundtrack to Cold Mountain got drunk off your Pappy's moonshine and danced in the light of a full autumn moon.  The title track makes me want to ride a horse into a windswept Western town and commit some sort of awful crime, and I am awful at riding horses.  With the alternating vocal lines by Joy Williams and John Paul White, the songs pulse with heartache but swell with a love that bruises with its fullness.  It is sparse, but there is much to be read in between the lines.  I'm just glad I knew of them before they hopped on the soundtrack train...now that they're doing songs for the Hunger Games series (with my girl Taylor Swift), everyone is going to know who they are.  Thank God, though.

Matt Nathanson, Modern Love
So come on down to the bottom of the sea, come on down here, there's room right next to me, I'm tired of getting even, let's get odd, odd, baby, and live life at the bottom of the sea
The fact Matt isn't on any "Best-Of" lists for this year is a travesty.  Nobody writes love songs like Matt.  Love lost, love destroyed, love newly gained, love for the night, love divided amongst jumpoffs...it's all the same to Matt and this record explores every facet of it.  It is giddy, moody, sexy as hell ("She said 'I know love, and it's all push and shove, so stop talking and put your back into it'") and a thorough explanation and exploration of what makes modern love, well, modern.  It opens with a bang with the lead-off single "Faster" which is a straight up tribute to George Michael (check out the video, it is a tribute as well, including the hip swivels), and ends with a sweet, lyrical ode to living on the bottom of the sea with the one you love.  It covers it all, and does it with panache and a big wink to the 80s rock of INXS.  Plus, I was a Matt Nathanson fan before he grew out his beard, so that ups my hipster cred.  

Lady Antebellum, Own the Night
'Cause love only comes once in a while, it knocks on your door and throws you a smile, and takes every breath and leaves every scar and speaks to your soul and sings through your heart, and if I knew then what I know now, I'd fall in love.
Come on.  I love these guys.  Yes, they've gone kind of pop...okay, REALLY pop.  The difference between their first album and this one is a bit horrifying.  And be warned, there is absolutely nothing on this album that comes close to the sheer, aching loveliness of "Need You Now." But they put out such good music I am loathe to disparage them.  The leadoff single, "Just A Kiss", captures the beauty of a first date in a way not explored since Taylor Swift mused on it in her song "Fearless." The rest of the album is breezy fun meant to be played in a car at the beach with the windows down and a bottle of wine or Corona.  Or even Miller Chill, for kicks.  However, the album cover makes me crack up.  Really, Hilary Scott? You're going to wear that gigantic dress in the middle of the desert? You are asking for a bitch of a bill from your cleaners.


Florence + the Machine, Ceremonials
I can see it coming from the edge of the room, creeping like a streetlight, holding my hand in the pale gloom, can you see it coming now? Oh, I think I'm breaking down again, oh, I think I'm breaking down
Florence Welch is a throwback to either the days of Fleetwood Mac or Shakespeare's Ophelia right before she threw herself into the river.  I'm not sure which.  Her voice is such a strange thing.  One moment it borders on ethereal, the next moment it's crazed and hypnotic.  And her fashion has become almost as famous as her sound.  But this CD is an exercise in the downward spiral one goes through when you fall in and out of love, and the way you claw yourself back to the light.  It defies explanation or logic, you just get swept away.


Gavin DeGraw, Sweeter
This is your goodbye kiss opportunity, thought you were burning me down but I'm finally free, if you miss me, don't, if I never wanna see you again, I won't, if you get an invitation, I'm probably drunk, you're just as hot as radiation but I'm in this situation
Nobody writes a piano lick right now like Gavin Degraw, with the slight exception of Alicia Keys or Lady GaGa (more on her flawlessness later).  He bangs away at the keys like a possessed man, and his lyrics are choked with emotion, honesty, and clever wordplay.  Gavin is one of those artists that when I find out he's got new material out or when I stumble across a brand new single on the radio in preview of a new album, I start jumping up and down and clapping my hands  like a crazy person because his music is that damn good.  Then again, I've been a huge fan of his since "Chariot" owned the radio 7 years ago, so perhaps this is just me being a crazy Gavin fangirl? All I know is "Not Over You" was my theme song at the beginning of the summer, and "Run Every Time" is my current jam.


The Lonely Island, Turtleneck and Chain
I just had sex and I'll never go back to the not-having-sex ways of the past
Because it is Andy Samberg and he is God.  Sure, there's Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, and Michael Bolton singing about Jack Sparrow and Erin Brockovich.  But it's Andy Samberg.  And that alone is why you should download this.  This record defies explanation.  It's just the balls.


Britney Spears, Femme Fatale

You notice what I'm wearing, I'm noticing you're staring, you know that I can take it to the next level baby, hotter than the A-list, next one on my hit list, baby let me blow your mind tonight.
All hail Queen Britney.  I don't care what she does or what car door she breaks or the heads she shaves.  If Britney Spears puts out an album, I will buy it.  I have been doing situps dreaming of Britney's sixpack since I was fifteen years old, so the fact I'm still doing situps dreaming of her sixpack at 26 is a testament to her longevity.  When her first single "Hold It Against Me" came on the radio for the first time, I stayed in the car in my garage, refusing to get out of the car until it was over.  That dubstep line nearly caved my brain in.  I hadn't even heard of dubstep before that single came out, and despite the fact that sometimes it can sound like someone getting told repeatedly to turn their music down, it provides a sense of staggered beats that  keep you guessing and turning and twisting.  And dancing.  Of course.  Until the world ends. When I got the album, I sat in awe, reveling in the fact that Britney is still relevant even after 14 years of music, red rubber suits, and dancing with pythons (not to mention she made out with Madonna).  She can do no wrong in my eyes, and we are all just cogs in the Britney machine.  Although she sometimes sounds like she's got a head cold.  Blow your nose, Brit-Brit.

Kelly Clarkson, Stronger
There's a place that I know, it's not pretty there, and few have ever gone, if I show it to you now, will it make you run away, or will you stay even if it hurts?
Oh, Kelly.  She will always be my favorite American Idol with the exception of David Cook (Yeah.  What up, David? I love you.).  She has a voice on her that even the most established of singers in the industry would kill to have, and she doesn't oversaturate her sound with melismatic breakdowns (Looking at you, Christina Aguilera).  On this CD, Kelly addresses a lot of the rumors that have plagued her over the years, as well as retaining a sense of humor about it all.  Her lyrics have gotten more honest as she has become more famous, an exponential growth you don't see too often anymore.  She isnt' afraid to speak her mind, and although I wish her politics were as forward thinking as her lyrics (Ron Paul, Kelly? REALLY?), I digress briefly.  She still slays.


The Pretty Reckless, Light Me Up
Take me, I'm alive, never was a girl with a wicked mind, but everything looks better when the sun goes down.
This technically came out last year but it was only released in the US in February of 2011, so it gets a pass.  I know Taylor Momsen has a few people up in arms for being so 'exposed' literally and figuratively (she wears underwear and calls it an outfit, much like other people on my list).  I will give her a bit of leeway because, like Lady GaGa, the outfit can kind of hide the fact that the girl can sing her face off.  The songs on Light Me Up are raw, sure.  But they explode with potential.  The guitar licks on some of these songs are up there with the brilliant stylings I've heard on other tracks from more established bands, and while it all kind of could just be dismissed as Hole-esque posturings, the style works because of Momsen's gritty, unexpected delivery.  It's just nice to see a teenager singer who doesn't want to be Miley Cyrus.


Colbie Caillat, All Of You
I want to be your favorite song, you can turn me up, play me all night long, I want to be your favorite song, go la la la la la, la la la la.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when Colbie Caillat puts out an album, I will want to listen to it over and over again until I sink into a black hole of sunshine, daisies, beachy waves, and coconuts.  All of her albums make me wish I were in salt water up to my ears with the hot sun blazing down, and this is no exception.  I drove a lot of miles earlier this summer with a goofy smile plastered on my face, blazing through this CD like a possessed woman in search of sand and sun.  When I finally did get to the beach, this was clearly number 1 on my list of soundtracks.  With a fun guest appearance by Common, this entire CD is breezy and fun.  Colbie has come into her own as a sort of Jason Mraz of female guitarists with her quirky lyrics and sunny disposition.  And there is nothing wrong with that.


Christina Perri, Lovestrong.
You put your arms around me and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go, I hope that you see right through my walls, I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling
Now, I am not going to lie: I am a huge, huge, HUGE fan of So You Think You Can Dance (Dance, Dance, Dance).  But I didn't watch last year because I wasn't a big fan of the whole 'All-Stars' concept.  However, I did tune in to watch on the night that Christina Perri's song "Jar of Hearts" was used.  I was very much drawn in to the sense of heartache, loss, and overall strength that came out of that record, and when I heard she was going to come out with a full LP, I snapped it up.  I was immediately floored.  Her sense of emotion with humor makes her akin to Matt Nathanson in my eyes (PLEASE DO A TOUR TOGETHER, OKAY? I know you both read my blog.  Right?), and her blatant honesty makes her lyrics profound and heartbreaking.  There are few people who could take a song about penguins and make it resonant and beautiful.  Also, I hate Twilight, but her song for Breaking Dawn Part 1 ("A Thousand Years") is absolutely mesmerizing.

Lady GaGa, Born This Way
I wish that I could dance on a single prayer, I wish I could be strong without somebody there, I wish that I could dance on a single prayer, I wish I could be strong without the scheibe, yeah
You knew this was going to be on here.  I have made my love of Lady GaGa shamelessly explicit throughout this year and last year.  I went to her concert last year in Hartford and spent the next several days in a foggy haze.  The woman is one of my faves and haters to the left, but I was so hoping this record would be as good as the others.  I had heard "You and I" at the concert and it broke my heart, but I was looking for some hot dance beats as well.  I woke up at 7 AM on the day the first single was released, rolled over and hit play on the official website (that I had cued up the night before, you know it).  But even I wasn't prepared for the sledgehammer that is this record.  Every single song SLAMS.  I listened to the entire thing in a daze, blown away by the creativity that oozes out of every pore of this record.  It's a love song to New York, to owning your truth, to being a woman, to being a moral woman of God and also a profoundly sexually proud one, and also the fear of exposing yourself vulnerably and emotionally.  The final song, "Edge of Glory", is made all the more moving when you realize it is the last track contributed to by Clarence Clemons, the famous E Street Band saxophonist who died late last year.  

TOP TRACKS OF 2011
note: all of these are on youtube.  go seek them out!
Britney Spears, "Hold It Against Me", "Inside Out", "Gasoline"
The Black Keys, "Lonely Boy", "Little Black Submarines"
Adele, "Someone Like You", "Your One and Only" and "Rumour Has It"
The Civil Wars, "Barton Hollow", "Poison and Wine", "Birds of a Feather"
Florence + the Machine, "Shake it Out", "What The Water Gave Me"
Ingrid Michaelson, "Ghost"
Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars, "Safe and Sound" from The Hunger Games Soundtrack
Christina Perri, "Arms" "Penguin" "A Thousand Years"
Lady GaGa, "Born This Way", "Judas", "Government Hooker", "You And I", "Black Jesus Amen Fashion"
Matt Nathanson, "Faster", "The Bottom Of the Sea", "Kiss Quick", "Run"
Rihanna, "We Found Love", "You Da One" - the rest of her CD is awful.  just download these two, please.  and rihanna, stop putting out CDs every year until you have an ENTIRE CD that is as good as these two songs.
Selena Gomez, "Love You Like A Love Song" - it pains me to include this one.  pains me.  but it's so good.
Demi Lovato, "Skyscraper" - GO LISTEN TO THIS RIGHT NOW.  Seriously.  This might be my favorite one out of the whole bunch.  GO.
Colbie Caillat, "I Do", "Brighter Than The Sun", "Your Favorite Song"
Gavin DeGraw, "Not Over You", "Radiation", "Run Every Time"
Jay-Z and Kanye West, "Ni**as in Paris", "Otis" - I haven't listened to the entirety of Watch The Throne but apparently it's the greatest thing since sliced bread, so I'm going to recommend these
Hot Chelle Rae, "Tonight Tonight"
Foster the People, "Pumped Up Kicks" - I have such a love-hate relationship with this song.  On one hand, it makes me want to gouge my eardrums.  On the other hand, it's so damn catchy.  So I am decidedly confused.


Films
Bridesmaids
"I am so sick of people blaming the world for their problems.  You are your problem.  You are also your solution." This is NOT The Hangover for women, although it's just as funny.  Kristen Wiig is a comic genius, sure.  And Rose Byrne is one of the most brilliant actresses when it comes to creating a character you just hate for no reason.  Indeed, there are so many talented comediennes on display in this film it is an embarrassment of riches.  This was truly the year of the funny female.  But the reason you should see this movie lies on the strong and psychotic shoulders of Melissa McCarthy.  Her Megan is one of the most brilliant creations of the past 5 years of cinema, and the fact that she never truly dissolves into a caricature and indeed possesses some of the smartest lines in the movie is a testament to how smart this film really is.  Also, Chris O'Dowd makes one sexy Irish cop, to the point where you nearly forget that Jon Hamm is in this movie (although his sex scenes with Kristin are borderline asthma-inducing).  And of course let's not forget about the wonderful Maya Rudolph as the one normal friend who isn't QUITE normal.


Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.
"I didn't ask any of you to die for me."
Of course.  I can't really say enough about this film except for the fact that it does exactly what it should do: send the film franchise out on the same note as the books.  It isn't the same as the book, of course, but that doesn't mean it isn't a good film.  The actors are all brilliant, the music is unforgettable, and the emotions are racheted up to an unbearable pitch until the unforgettable finale.  They nailed it.  And I'm pretty sure the amount of tears I shed in the theater have yet to be fully scraped off the floor.


Crazy, Stupid, Love.
"Okay, The Scarlet Letter. To me, the A stands for asshole. Both Hester and Dimmesdale fall in love. Love is for asshole. So they are assholes being chased by assholes because they are assholes."
The previews didn't prepare me for this movie.  I thought it was going to be a goofy relationship comedy, sort of like Dan In Real Life or Beezus and Ramona.  But then Ryan Gosling came onscreen, eating a pizza and slapping around Steve Carell, and my brain melted.  There was so much going on in the layers of this film.  From Steve Carell's heartbreak and subsequent rebounding with a crazed Marisa Tomei, to Emma Stone's constant rebuffing of Ryan Gosling only to surrender to his Dirty Dancing trick, this entire movie glows with the variations of love, loss, and love regained.  Also, the scene with Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling talking all night rather than having sex is probably one of the best scenes of the year.  I like pairing that with the Kristin Wiig/Jon Hamm sex scene in Bridesmaids of "You're doing it right/You're doing it WRONG" themes.  And who can forget about Julianne Moore who is flawless in every movie she's in, and the lovely side-plot of the babysitter and the boy in love with her? I wish every man were that bold.


Thor
"I need a horse."
I am an unabashed lover of Norse mythology.  I try to read everything about it ever printed.  The Snorls Sturlsson Edda? The Poetic Edda? The Heimskringla? I own all of them and love all of them.  And is this the same thing as those? Nope.  It is the Marvel version of Norse gods, which is a bit of a tweak and a stretch.  But it is still tremendously enjoyable.  And plus, Chris Hemsworth.  And the recalls to The Avengers, which is shaping up to be (for me) the most anticipated movie event of 2012, were almost too much for me to take.  Jeremy Renner's cameo as Hawkeye nearly made me leap out of my seat with excitement.  


X-Men: First Class
"Remember: The point between rage and serenity."
This really has nothing to do with the X-men mythos and everything to do with the amazingness that is Michael Fassbender.  His Magneto is, to use an overused pun, magnetic.  You cannot rip your eyes away from him when he's onscreen.  Everyone else melts into the background when he appears, and he doesn't even really do a lot.  Michael Fassbender had one hell of a year this year as he also appeared as Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, as well as a performance in Shame that is generating Oscar buzz, but I'm guessing most people will look back at Fassbender's 2011 and remember his Magneto the most.  And it isn't even the showiest role (Shame, after all, is the one in which Fassy gets his kit off and shows it to the entire world), but he owns it and makes the idea of Ian McKellen in the role somewhat less of a big deal than it would have been in any other actors' hands.  He is just phenomenal.  Just close your eyes and ears whenever January Jones is onscreen.  It is painful.

Horrible Bosses
"WHY would you put his entire bathroom in your ass?!"
I laughed at this entire movie without any shame.  If you can make it through the 'dirty talk' scene, or the scene in which Charlie Day accidentally snorts cocaine, or the scene in which Jason Sudeikis realizes he may have done a bad thing in leaving his DNA all over Kevin Spacey's bathroom, all without laughing you may need to relocate your soul.  It is brilliantly funny, and Jennifer Aniston has never been sexier.  Yoga, people.  YOGA.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
"If we can stop him, we shall prevent the collapse of Western civilization. No pressure."
That whole homoerotic subtext Guy Ritchie was playing with in the 2009 film? Imagine all of that subtext made into gloriously obvious text, and you've got A Game of Shadows.  I've always been a fan of Sherlock, but I love how these films take them back to their gritty roots.  Sherlock was never the man in a cloak and pipe.  He started out as a bareknuckle boxer wtih a peculiar sense of detective work, and Watson was his semi-babysitter.  These films just exploit that angle to an absurd degree.  Smart, hilarious, and unexpectedly filled with emotion, this movie zips along with excellent pacing and awesome directorial finesse.  With the additions of Jared Harris as a thoroughly evil and profoundly brilliant Moriarty, Noomi Rapace (the original Girl with a Dragon Tattoo) as a deliciously fun gypsy named Zizma, and Stephen Fry as the delightfully eccentric Mycroft Holmes, the entire movie snaps with a sense of fun and wickedness.  And cross-dressing.  And gay subtext made text.  And Jude Law being amazing and Robert Downey Jr. proving over and over again that he is one of the greatest actors working today, and thank God he got clean and sober when he did.  God bless Susan Levin!


ally

Saturday, December 31, 2011

What I learned in 2011.

I learned I can survive a 2 hour hot yoga class, a colonoscopy (yeah, I didn't blog about that.  Sorry I'm not sorry?), and getting hit by a car.
I learned I can work my ass off for a year and a half and be rewarded with an amazing new career.
I learned I can run and run and run and run and decide running kind of sucks.
I learned beer isn't so bad.  It's actually kind of awesome.
I learned standing on a scale is the worst thing ON THE PLANET.
I learned counting calories is CRAP.
I learned some friends are better off not being in your life, because they are horrendously damaging.

I learned it's okay to have days that suck.
It is okay.

It is okay to feel worried about things you have no control over.

It is okay to get that tension in the back of your neck when you realize your day won't be panning out the way you thought it would.  My life didn't pan out the way I thought it would, but it just took a little longer for everything to fall into place.

It is okay to get slightly freaked about not being able to accomplish whatever it was you wanted to accomplish that day no matter how miniscule.  It's okay to care about something so much it makes you tremble.

All of it comes back to one central fear, of course...

not being good enough for anything or anyone or any aspect of the rich life you are carving out for yourself.

not deserving happiness, love, or the rewards of hard work, because you're clearly too dumb/ugly/fat to deserve it.

thinking when you lose some number of pounds on a scale, get your hair cut that specific way, or run a certain amount of miles in a week, you'll automatically be granted the gift of a husband or great job or life fulfillment or anything else you may want.

control or be controlled.  the mantra.

Because you can't control the bigness of your life.

your life. so much more.  than the control.

For 2012...give in.  

Let go.  Experience.  have love.  let love.  be loved.  Dance more.  Meet someone who makes you laugh until you snort.  Eat that ice cream (or if you have allergies, eat something appropriately decadent).

it's amazing to think back on all of my new years' resolutions I made last year that I didn't think i could stick to any of them, but I did.  

however, this year i'm gonna mix it up.  

new year's resolutions are so last year.  Here's some unresolutions, aka things that don't need to change one bit.
I am so grateful for all of my amazing, beautiful, and ridiculously smart colleagues at UCONN.
I am so grateful for all of my amazing, beautiful, and wonderful friends who inspire me every day.  Whether I met you at a bar or on the yoga mat, I LOVE YOU.
I am so grateful for my family.  You guys are the best.
I am so grateful for YOU, whoever you are. 

my wish for each of us is small and very simple.
And it's this. 
I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.


So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. 

Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. 

Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever. - Neil Gaiman.


bring it on, 2012.  

but 2011 was something special.  Crazy.  But special.

ally

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

How to properly eat during the holiday season. Ish.

Every single article I have seen about celebrating the holidays  usually has an addendum at the end about how to essentially 'rubberband' your food.  You know what I mean...how to trick your body so that it thinks it's more full than it is, so you don't eat as much and don't gain weight and don't allow your life to spin out of control and don't die alone and never have sex again and cause your life to lose all amount of meaning.  Or, you know, don't gain the holiday poundage.  Whichever scenario works for you.

Two years ago, I was so terrified of gaining weight on Christmas that I starved myself on Christmas Eve, then ate myself into a stupor on Christmas Day, then did it again the next day.  Then I attempted to exercise it all off, and ended up feeling absolutely awful.  Last year, I did NOT do that, but I still spent most of the afternoon worried about getting enough food in me, and just felt tense all day.

This year, I ate myself silly on Christmas Eve, and then on Christmas Day, I celebrated opening presents with my family, then went to a dinner party and ate myself silly again.  I know.  Crazy, right? I'm going against everything I learned in Cosmo.


My whole theory is, if you work out and stay healthy for 98 percent of the year, you deserve to go all out during the holidays.  It only comes around once a year.  Just do yourself a solid and chill out about it.  It's not worth freaking out over.


That being said, I would be lying if I said I didn't take preemptive measures to make sure I could eat my cake but also fit into my pants, not just because I like to be healthy but also because buying pants in bigger sizes just because of the holidays is kind of odd.

My secret for maintaining weight during the Christmas and Thanksgiving seasons while not driving myself nuts with these pseudo tips? It's quite simple, really.

1. Get in a workout.  Anything.  Don't overdo it.  I am not one of those people who can just laze around for a few days without moving.  Call me Type A if you want, but I need to work out to maintain my sanity and energy levels.  Plus, if you know you are going to eat like a heathen, it's always better for me to move in a healthy way before said food carnage.  On Christmas Eve I did a 25 minute elliptical interval workout, followed up by an hour of Baptiste yoga in order to get myself in a loving, peaceful mood.  Not a 'hard' workout by any means at all, and a far cry from the 75 minute punishing elliptical workout I used to do before a day I was to be eating more than normal (of course, I would follow up that elliptical workout with about 3 bites of food and call it a night because I was so exhausted).  But I was sweaty and satisfied and centered, and ready to dive into some home cooked food.  And I did.  With abundance.  Then on Christmas Day, I had some time to kill before our dinner party so I did a 50 minute elliptical workout that was fairly easy, and then I stuffed my face at the dinner.  As the Baby Jesus would want.  Plus, yoga inspires you to make good decisions, and it was clearly a good decision to put chocolate fudge sauce on top of my Nonna's tiramisu cake, as well as some cool whip and crushed gingersnaps.  Duh.

2. Eat clean for most of the day.  I am also not one of those people who can have cookies for breakfast.  I need a stable breakfast and a healthy lunch if I know my dinner is going to consist mostly of meat and frosting.  This week I made sure to eat a ton of vegetables and clean foods.  For Christmas Eve I had eggs and kale with sriracha for breakfast (seriously one of my favorite breakfasts right now, I just had it again today!), then I had turkey with flatbread and hummus along with an apple and a few roasted chestnuts.  The protein in both meals kept me full until dinner, and I felt healthy and energized rather than stuffed and gross.  Also, keep in mind that I have had Christmas cookies or chocolate every single day this week, I just know how to compartmentalize.  As a former binge eater, I do have to think about these things, but as a former anorexic, I also need to recognize the importance of celebrating with food.

3.  Eat your face off, but be prepared for damage control.  I ate a LOT this weekend.  So much dessert, I think pecan pie was coming out of my pores.  Yesterday, post-massacre, I woke up, had a great breakfast, hung out, and managed to get in a kickboxing workout.  It was EXCRUCIATING for the first 20 minutes, but after that the sweat started going and I felt so much better for having moved.  I still wasn't too hungry afterwards but I really knew I should eat something, so I had a protein bar before I met up with some friends to hang out.  Then, for dinner, I had a big bowl of soup, followed up by some hot chocolate.  

The summary of these parts is, I eat very well for 99 percent of the year.  I don't see any problems with stuffing myself silly on the holidays, because they are special occasions.  I don't normally drink, so I save all of my calories for food (because let's face it...that is the fun of the holiday!).  For those two days, I go bonkers, and then after that I go right back to what I was doing beforehand: eating healthfully, working out, and the like.


Do not starve yourself post-holiday.  I am dead serious about this.  If you want to work out and feel healthy, you've got to eat.  The choices you make in the week after Christmas are crucial, but if you think restricting yourself is the way to go you are setting yourself up for another, larger binge.  That being said, you don't want to be that asshole who has a bite of something and then says "Oh, I don't want to gain weight during the holidays." Being with family and eating a lot and drinking is a holiday tradition.  I don't think I could survive the holidays without some of my Nonna's tiramisu cake, or some of my parent's friend's crabcakes, or some holiday mineste soup, or anything like that.  You just have to be smart about it.  Eat clean and light with an emphasis on lean proteins (carbs just make you hungrier, but definitely still eat them because you want energy!) and drink a lot of water, and you'll be fine.  Don't worry too much about it.

It's kind of funny that the only workouts I've done this past week are around 30 minutes of easy cardio and power yoga a day, with one 60 minute elliptical workout on Friday, and I am thinner now than I was when I was training for my half-marathon, and also thinner than when I was overexercising two years ago.  I don't like the constant 'urge' you get when you're heavily training to eat all of the time.  It doesn't create peaceful feelings with food, and as someone who has had a torturous relationship with food, it made things all the more disordered.  Three square meals and a snack are good for me when I'm doing these sorts of workouts.  I don't get too hungry and I don't get too full.  Except for this weekend.  Holy crap.

Enjoy your family and friends.  You've got all the time in the world to say no to pecan pie.  But just give yourself a BREAK, for once.  Just enjoy it.  If you're eating and moving mindfully throughout the year, go ahead and have some pecan pie.  Will it hurt tomorrow morning? Maybe.  Will you regret it? God, I hope not.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

A Long-Expected Journey.

[Warning: There is so much nerd going on in this entry, it is quite remarkable I am a functioning human being.  My brain is mush.  I hope yours is too after wading through the layers of geek in this entry.  But I am thoroughly proud of my status as a Ringer.]

If you have been following my blog for any period of time, you may have noticed my entry celebrating  (and in a way, mourning) the ending of the Harry Potter film series.  The Harry Potter books and films were a formative part of my youth, and I remain very grateful to JK Rowling and the filmmaking team over at WETA and New Line Cinema for bringing it to life on the page and screen.

But they aren't my first literary love.  I know.  I'm a bit of a lit-slut.  I cheat on Harry Potter all the time with another man.  He's short, cherubic, and smokes a long pipe.

He also has large, hairy feet.

Yes, dear readers.  I am in love with Frodo Baggins.  As well as Pippin, Merry, Samwise, Bilbo, and the whole gang.  And Arwen.  Oh, God, Arwen.

When I was fourteen years, old, back in 2000, the first trailer for The Lord of the Rings hit the airwaves, mostly filled with interviews of Peter Jackson talking about the film process, and ending with the titles of each film and their release dates.  The release of that trailer broke the Internet and shut down theonering.net for about 3 days.  Fans were going insane.  I personally just wanted to see it because I was a huge fan of Elijah Wood and Liv Tyler, but the rest of the trailer spoke to me as well.  It looked creative, fun, and adventurous.  Keep in mind, I was not as much of a nerd back in the day as I am now. Indeed, the height of my nerdiness was American Girl dolls and Babysitter's Club.
I started getting more interested in the story, and the relationship built by the cast while they shot for fourteen months in New Zealand. 1


When the film came out, I was sixteen.  I sat in the theatre, shovelling popcorn and Goobers into my mouth while drinking a Diet Coke, and watched my life slowly change before my eyes.

Because all of the things I had considered while watching the trailers, about what it would be about, were so wholly underwhelming when faced with the actual film.  I knew it would be about a battle and a quest, and pretty boys doing pretty things (What up, Orlando Bloom?), but I had no idea it would be so lyrical, so humorous, so unbelievably emotional.  I came to the film for Elijah Wood, but I stayed pinned to my seat with a very, VERY annoyed bladder due primarily to the relationship between Frodo and Sam.  As Tolkien wrote, "His will was set, and only death would break it."3

I adored the friendship between Merry and Pippin, built out of a familial camaraderie and love of fun and laughter; basically the proto-typical hobbits who just want to hang out and smoke some Longbottom Leaf and drink whiskey, as referenced by Merry's potbelly near the beginning of the films.  They are the ones, I believe, who are the most altered by the threat of war.  Their complete maturation, followed by their separation and reunion on the battlefield in full Gondorian and Rohirrim garbs in Return of the King remains one of the emotional highpoints of the trilogy for me.

I swooned initially when Strider came onscreen-most badass entrance ever or most badass entrance ever?- but soon enough was transfixed by his constant fear of his inner weakness that comes from his cursed, doomed lineage as one of the Dunedain.  (A descendant of Numenor.  Google it.)3


Of course, this film also introduced Orlando Bloom to the public consciousness.  It also told us you can be very, very pretty, and star in a variety of films that showcase your prettyness, and that STILL won't help you act your way out of a wet paper bag.


I hated Boromir.  Hated him.  Hated him so, so hard.  But then I grew to understand why he was the way he was.  He just wanted to serve his people and to make his father proud of him, the same way Faramir unsuccessfully campaigned to do so in the subsequent two films.

 SPOILER ALERT FOR A GAME OF THRONES: This film also gave me the impression that Sean Bean is under contract to die in every single movie/tv show he's in.

In 2001/2002, my brother bought me the full trilogy in hardback for Christmas.  I devoured it in less than two weeks, and considered myself fully a member of the psychotic beloved mess that is the LOTR fandom (what up, Ringers?).  I saw trailers and release photos of The Two Towers online, and like a heroin addict, I kept on slapping my arm screeching "GIMME MORE." I participated in online forums.  I did roleplaying games.  I wrote in fanfic groups.  I met some of my best friends.  I tried to learn Elvish. I wished my hair were longer so I could style it like Arwen.  It took me ten years to learn the patience to grow it out, but I finally got it that length.  And I'm keeping it because I love her hair that much.

You might be starting to see why I didn't date in college.

The Two Towers was released, and I was surprised and slightly taken aback by it.  I absolutely loved it, don't get me wrong.  The introduction of the people of Rohan was exactly like I had imagined it in my head, and the way Tolkien wrote it - Beowulf with horses, as John Howe said.  Eowyn, Eomer, and Theoden are painfully human, and the movie emphasized that.  Eowyn, in particular, has a real, beating heart in the films, whereas in the book she can come across as unforgiveably cold except in the presence of Aragorn.

The depiction of Gollum, as well as being technically stunning, was emotionally gripping due to the abject suffering of Smeagol inside of Gollum's possession.  I almost took it to represent a demon possessing the mind of a hobbit, and the performance of Andy Serkis clinched that for me.  Serkis is a God amongst mortals, and they should have structured an award for achievement in MOCAP just for him.  He gave Gollum a heart and a soul that he would have lacked in anyone else's hands.  And who can forget that voice? We even forgot our own name.  My...prrrreciousssss.....

All of that being said, the changes that were made to the text to make it more of an action film, rather than a plot-drive set piece like Fellowship was, really threw me for a loop.  The whole 'wargs of Isengard' motif, while SORT OF put into context with the mention of them in the book, really didn't jibe well with the whole tone of the film.  In addition, us fans of the book KNEW Aragorn was alive.  He's the KING of Return of the KING, after all!

The biggest issue I take with the third film is the changing of the character arc of Faramir.  It stunned me.  Here is a man in the book who is one of the most purely goodhearted men you will find, who acts almost like a Robin Hood of sorts; you don't know precisely what his motives are until he tells Frodo and Sam that he will do anything to help them.  To turn him into the Middle Earth equivalent of a douchebag was kind of insane to me at first, bordering on unconscionable.  However, I read an interview with Philippa Boyens who managed to set things right for me a little bit: By developing the personality of The Ring as something that poisons everything it touches, that reduced Gollum to the wretch-like addict he is, then to introduce a character who so wholly and easily rejects its power, that in essence strips the ring of all of the power you have fought so hard to display.  In that way, I can understand the need for an arc.  But it's no surprise that during our marathon this weekend, my friend and I saw no problem in ending The Two Towers a bit early in favor of Return of the King.


Oh, and Return of the King.

The trailer alone nearly brought me to my knees (one of the best trailers in film history, if I do say so myself...go here), so I had no idea what to expect for the movie.  I ended up needing to be wrung out like a dish towel.  All of the tears.  ALL of them.

My goodness, that movie ripped me in half.  I ended up getting tickets for Trilogy Tuesday - an entire day at my local movie theater, filled with nerds just like me who were geeking out hardcore, fueled by geek love and Mountain Dew. The very nice woman next to me kept talking about how she had been waiting for this moment for twenty years.  Which made me feel like the biggest wagon-jumper in the history of wagon-jumping, but I'm pretty sure we are all equal in the eyes of the fandom.

When the entire trilogy unspooled before my eyes, I felt as if I were being slowly torn apart, by skilled and perceptive hands that knew exactly what buttons to push to get the tears to flow and my heart to break, and the final film pushed it even further.  The image of Frodo and Sam, on their hands and knees because the force of evil has pushed them there, and pushed them to the edge of their physical and mental strength, crawling up the mountainside until Sam gets the courage to sling his master over his shoulder to pull him towards the goal...that is Biblical in its scope.  If you didn't get it from the trailer, you get from the film a sense of yes, victory, but also profound sadness and sacrifice.  You don't really leave the theater fistpumping; you walk out with a lot of questions about what it means to be alive, to fight for what you believe, to really be a friend, to commit to a partner, to honor your family, and to live for the greater good.  As ridiculous as it sounds, Return of the King made me a better person.

Also, for someone who despises spiders in every shape and form, having to deal with one the size of a Volkswagen was really too freaking much.  Goddamn you, Shelob.

And Arwen.  Oh, God, Arwen.  She's my favorite.  Seriously.  Hear me out.

I thought I knew what the whole deal with Liv Tyler was in the films.  Someone pretty, the love interest, the basic and bare bones of a shot of estrogen in the testosterone-dominated atmosphere of the trilogy.  I was so happy to be wrong.  Surrounded by light, she rode into the clearing and into my consciousness, knelt before Frodo, and spoke gently "Frodo, im Arwen, Telin le thaed.  Laso beth nin, tolo dal nongalad." And yes, I know, in the book this office is taken up by Glorfindel, and in actuality the River Bruinen is summoned due to Frodo and not due to an elf.  But it still works, and if you're going to expand the character of Arwen without character mutilation, this seems like the only logical way to go about doing it.  The connection between Arwen and Aragorn is palpable even in this small scene, and despite the overall heinousness of what they did to Aragorn's behavior in regards to Arwen, it remains a potent and touching relationship, and you don't have to put a sword in her hands to make her strong.  Eowyn gets a lot of the glory in the films for being a shieldmaiden and the one who killed the Witch King, but without Arwen, there is no Fourth Age and no scion of both Elf-kind and Man in the shape of her son with Aragorn, Eldarion.4


Why am I freaking out about Lord of the Rings right now?

Because Monday marked the 10 year anniversary of the release of Fellowship of the Ring.

10 years.  In those ten years, I have lost friends, hours of sleep due to school, and 70 pounds.  I have gained a high school and college diploma and started graduate school.  I completely changed careers and became a writer.  I became an aunt.

I feel very, very old.  Old, and honored that I am alive at a time when these films were made, and still commented upon and celebrated.

But it's not over yet.  Thank God.

Last night, the trailer for An Unexpected Journey, the first film in a planned 2-part Hobbit adaptation, hit the Internet.  It has been well documented that The Hobbit hasn't had the easiest transition from page to screen.  First, there was an embargo on the films due to copyright restrictions (although we all knew they would be lifted because, it's Tolkien).  Then, there was uncertainty as to who would direct it, which I know got a lot of people worried.  At one point, Guillermo del Toro was set to direct, and while that would have been a great film, it wasn't what most of the fans wanted most of all.  Then, suddenly and without warning, it was announced Guillermo wouldn't be doing it.  The time was right.  Peter Jackson could come back and direct.  And he announced it, and our hearts exploded with joy.  Because it would have been fine if Guillermo had done it.  But it wasn't Peter.  Peter is the one who gave the world the first three films.  It's his baby.

Photos were leaked over the course of the past year or so, and the more people that signed on, the more excited I got.  Martin Freeman as Bilbo was too perfect to be real, and the return of Cate Blanchett, Ian McKellen, and Andy Serkis was just icing on the nerdy cake.

When I saw that the trailer had leaked (first from a link on Twitter, then as it was posted to my wall by about fifty people), I hesitated.  I had built up so much love and appreciation/anticipation for these films, and the cast was simply stunning, and if they messed it up....

I pressed play before I could think about it any more.

Three minutes later, I sat back, hands over my mouth, laughing and crying.  From the opening shot of Frodo and Bilbo walking in Bag-End, to the image of a brilliantly-lit Lothlorien (which I had completely forgotten would be more in a summery phase for these films...indeed, everything looks drenched in sunlight!), to the final beautiful shot of Bilbo wandering in the woods and the Ring glowing behind him, it all became real and wonderful again.  And then the shot of Gollum.  Oh, my, God.  I nearly convulsed.

I was sixteen all over again. Sixteen, sitting in a cinema, without any idea that I would be swept away on a journey that would change the course of my entire life.

Thank you, J.R.R. Tolkien.
Thank you, Peter Jackson/Philippa Boyens/Fran Walsh, and every single actor.

Namarie.

ally

PS.  Yes, I am also aware that the trailer for The Dark Knight Rises came out too.  But that one just made me incredibly depressed and I couldn't really figure out the best way to 'celebrate' something that looks so relentless and bleak.  Although I have an unabashed love for Anne Hathaway and everything she chooses to be, so there's that to be said.

1. Admittedly, I was still mostly interested in the film because the guys they cast in it were super hot.  I was 16 and hormonal, what do you want from me?  Orlando Bloom is the prettiest man on the face of God's green earth with the SLIGHT exception of Mr. Michael Fassbender.
2."Are you frightened?" "Yes." "Not nearly frightened enough." That was the line in the trailer that hooked me for good.  What a brilliantly terrifying line.
3. My feelings about Frodo and Sam (and I have a lot, I mean a LOT, of feelings) are expressed beautifully by Tolkien's own thoughts about their portrayal.  He described the attachment Frodo had to Sam (and Sam's to Frodo) as that of an officer and his batman in World War 1.  It is much, much more than a servant/master relationship, yet it is something that also goes into the servitude aspect.  Without Sam, Frodo doesn't do it.  Without Sam, Frodo succumbs to the darkness and would have died either in Shelob's lair or on the steps of Cirith Ungol, or would have succumbed to the ring in the fires of Mount Doom, or he would have throttled Gollum.  In addition, Sam gives Frodo his soul.  When they're on the side of Mount Doom and Sam is holding Frodo, urging him to recall 'the taste of strawberries', and reminiscing about Rosie Cotton and his heartbreak about losing her to his own bashfulness, it takes a constitution stronger than most people I know not to explode into an emotional mess.  Also, I really don't subscribe to the whole "they're secretly very very gay and having lots of gay sex with each other" argument.  Tolkien wasn't depicting homosexual love, he was depicting the very real and very deep love that comes between soldiers serving in the trenches at war.  It is intense, consuming, and self-sacrificing, but it is not sexual.  
4.  My whole point to this harangue about Arwen is that, to me, she is the strongest character in regards to 'motive' or 'theme' in the entire film, with the exception of Gollum and Sam.  Whereas those two introduce the themes of the Ring's effects and the power of friendship*  respectively, Arwen introduces the theme of death.  She casts off her immortality for the love of a mortal man, knowing full well that she will have to watch the man she loves die and then be forced to subsequently walk the earth by herself, without any family or friends to comfort her.  The moment in The Two Towers where Elrond lays out the implications of her chosen fate is one of the most heartbreaking moments in the entire trilogy because of its sacrificial nature; Arwen is giving up something extremely precious, and Elrond is trying to make her aware of that, and also heavily guilting his daughter into not leaving him the way his wife left.  "Here you will dwell, bound to your grief under the fading trees, until all the world has changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent." Elrond, and his eyebrows, present a convincing argument, but Arwen decides to stay after realizing she will bear a son.  In addition, Aragorn's behavior in the film towards Arwen is problematic because in the book, it is made profoundly clear that most of the impetus for Aragorn to even go to the War of the Ring rests on Arwen's choice.  Elrond tells Aragorn, without hesitation, that if he doesn't defeat Sauron and destroy the One Ring, he won't be able to marry Arwen because he hasn't earned the right.  I get the purpose of making Aragorn feel that he needs to 'give up' Arwen because he doesn't want her to die, but at the same time they both are aware of the implications of their individual sacrifices.  Also, without Arwen's present of The Elfstone (Undomiel, or The Evenstar, or the pretty piece of jewellery that is not The One Ring), Aragorn's healing powers would not have increased, so it is highly unlikely he would have had the strength or the healing gifts to heal Eowyn in the Houses of Healing.  Arwen's present also gave Aragorn the kingly nickname of Elessar, which is what Galadriel calls him in the departure from Lothlorien ("I can offer no greater gift than the gift you already bear.") Plus, just as a side note, I was a fat single lonely Goth chick when I saw these movies.  That, I am sure, informed my feelings (my many, many feelings) about the Arwen/Aragorn relationship.  But I digress.