heystasa: (Life Aquatic)
A very dear friend of mine died the other day. She was in her late sixties at the very least, and so had a depth and breadth of years and experience that I could never compare with, but still, somehow, we sat on the same wavelength.

We first bonded because I was the only person she’d met who could give her a good reason for not liking the Lord of the Rings books. She was impressed by my thinking, I was enamoured with her for valuing it. That was when I was in year nine, and I honestly can’t remember the details of many individual conversations or meetings after that one, though I do remember from all of them an ease. We got on; could talk and joke with a relaxed wit, a common disposition towards the world.

Mum once called my relationship with her “The Mutual Appreciation Society”, which was pretty well spot on. I never felt that I had to impress her, never felt out of my depth or anxious, because, somehow, she seemed to think I was pretty special already, just for being myself. I, in turn, admired her greatly, thought she was one of the coolest people I’d ever met. We shared an open respect for each other, one unmatched I think in my dealings with almost anyone else.

She was sharp and funny, well read and caring. She worked in the town library, raised a huge brood of loud, friendly and mad children, and of course was quite mad herself (many of us are, the creative and clever you find in small towns). She was well spoken but not snobbish; grand in her words and her brilliance but never vague or superior in her dealings. She was straight forward, confident, had lived a full life and taken all of it in her stride, building a heft of experience and knowledge and vitality that propelled her and powered her in her every moment.

She was, and always will be, one of my absolute favourite people.

Though there is no shortage of fantastic women in my own family, I’ve often thought that if I must get older, I want to do it like her. If, when I am her age, I can look at my life and consider myself even half the woman she was, consider myself in possession of even a fraction of her character, her brilliance, I will be proud.

And, for the time being, I take a great deal of pride in knowing that she, for whatever reason, liked me. It is an honour and a pleasure to have known her, to consider her a friend.

I am going to miss her very much.


 
heystasa: (Life Aquatic)


This was a wonderful thing. It was a beautifully constructed episode, a beautifully designed episode, and such a refreshingly humanistic episode.

Whys and howevers under here )



 


heystasa: (duuude)
 
Wait so, what? What?

This turned into a draft mini-meta about SPN!God. Woops :/ )

I don't know. It's all just off the top of my head type speculation. This show is so ripe for textual analysis. I want to figure some of this out, look closer at the episodes and do some actual research, but maybe when I've calmed down and taken notes and am capable of constructing normal-person sentences that don't run on into oblivion.

For now, have some more reactions:

WHIMPERING AND FREAKING OUT AND LOL )
------

All in all, I liked the episode. I'm annoyed with how badly season five as a whole was constructed and I think the finale could have had a lot more punch if the lead up to it had been better controlled, BUT, I've liked every individual episode, and I loved the last few to absolute pieces. I think I loved this one too, even if it did sort of feel completely out of place.

I watched it with my TV cushion turtle. He is my friend. We like all the same shows.

We're still very much in a state of

 though.

I am not even going to acknowledge that S5 is OVER FOREVER and there's MONTHS till the next one and WAAAAAAH.

    
heystasa: (Life Aquatic)


I went to see Where the Wild Things Are after my exam* today.

It made me cry. Was that the idea? )


_______________

*Thank god it's over, I seriously nearly killed myself studying for the damn thing. If I don't pass this course I may actually die, or just throw away the facade of dignity and email my lecturer in tears and beg.

In related news, if anyone has any burning questions about abnormal psychology - including diagnostic criteria, specific disorders, and treatments - now is the time to ask me. Because chances are this info ain't staying around in my head much longer.


**Tips for people wanting to watch the movie and not wanting be shaken up by it:
- Don't be tired and thoroughly intellectually drained
- Don't have just done something really stressful and be looking for a fun bit of light relief
- Don't still be emotionally fragile from the loss of a loved one
- Don't be a massive sook

heystasa: (Default)

I will never understand why the ABC keeps slotting in this Star Stories crap between series of the good shows on Wednesdays. Seriously, it's mindblowingly terrible. And it makes me sad to know that the kid from Muppet Treasure Island has become so... skeevy. Know what, bugger this. I'm gonna run up to the street and get some chewy (it's an addiction, you guys, seriously) before Tara starts. brb. *leaves*

*returns*
*turns on TV*
Perfect timing!
*blows bubble*

So hi. Got the Abnormal Psych essay in today, ON TIME. It wasn't actually finished, but I've been having so much despair with this thing hanging over my head I was not going to spend another day with the damn thing, so printed it at 4:52 and ran - actually ran, which I'm technically not supposed to do because I could, like, lose the feeling in my legs or something - it to the psych building. When I got there they'd pulled the roller door down already, and I almost freaking SOBBED. Went around the corner to the staff entrance and caught them leaving, because damn it, my phone said it was 4:57 and I fecking ran for this freaking essay. They were very nice, and accepted it. Thank god.

This was going to be a big entry about a lot of random little things, but turned into bitching about Sydney Uni Psych, loving Sydney Uni Art History & Film, comparing the three, and talking about my academic and career plans )

The plan, such as it stands at the moment, is to spread the remaining four units of study I have left on my degree over two semesters next year, while hopefully getting a job vaguely related to film in some way (or getting an unrelated job and volunteering at film festivals), and doing short courses at AFTRS (the Australian Fillm, TV, and Radio School) to build a portfolio and study cinematography/ directing/ art direction there properly the year after I do honours here. Which means three more years in Sydney, which is bad, but there isn't a lot of choice when it comes to learning film making - it's pretty much a capital cities thing, I think. Although I may take a year off after honours, stay in the Central West working some little retail job, or working at one of the ABC's regional offices. A foot in the door is a foot in the door in the Australian film industry, no matter how small the door, or which side of the house it's on.


heystasa: (Default)

Okay - it's like this. There's a tribe living by a river, and in the river there are crocodiles. The tribe has one particular piece of wisdom passed down through the generations. It goes like this: if you happen to meet a crocodile, don't stick your head in its mouth. Every now and then - and who knows the reason - people ignore this advice. Which is sad. Because they die. But very stupid because they were warned. They had a choice. The moral of this story is - you can't afford to be stupid. There are crocodiles.
-Press Gang, season 5, episode 6
 

Look, I'm going to make this very simple: you do recreational drugs, you're an idiot. I don't care. There is no excuse for a person of reasonably decent mental health and circumstance living in the modern western world to even consider it.

Someone at uni set me off today. Expect vitriol. )


ETA: Cut for length, bits and pieces of editing.

August 2012

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