Tuesday, February 1, 2011

February 1st






Rabbit.
It is a dark and dreary start to the month down here, south of the Ohio. But, it is a new month, if not a change in the weather.
I have been re reading Tolkien of late. Mostly because I'm too lazy to go to the library for new books. It's been a while since I've read The Lord of the Rings. In short, it makes me:
1. Highly dislike the movie trilogy, since I am reminded yet again, in more detail, of how far they are from the actual story. Case in point (and worst, if you ask me): what the movie did to Arwen Evenstar. Hello? The character is not even recognizable.
2. Realize how bare bones the actual story is. I had no idea how much I'd been filling in with my own imagination as I read along. No wonder the movie can't suit me: I had made the world my own.
3. Be fascinated and moved by Tolkien's take on good and evil. Evil: machination, plotting, strategy, fear, domination, power. Good: divine (unknowable) providence, chance, casting off power, redemption, courage, integrity.
4. Was totally annoyed at some of the dialogue. No one, not even Aragorn, is going to talk like that if he really is in the tearing hurry he says he's in.
(Side note: I'm waiting, most eagerly, for the arrival via Netflix, of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, episodes I & II. Which means that I'm officially on a geek fest at the moment, I can deny it no longer. I'll know I'm beyond all hope if for some reason I start to watch any season whatsoever of Star Trek. Or purchase any movie poster, full stop.)
I still haven't lost any more weight. However, I carry on. Yesterday, being bored stiff with my old workout video, I purchased a new one. It was based on "Dancing with the Stars."
Yeah. That was not the best move on my part. I was faced with size zero tweens (ok, maybe they were 17. But they looked about 13) who tossed their chicken bone hips up saucily, revealing their panties at every twitch. They carelessly assumed that any old person could pick up a dance move after the first try and that everyone must be, like, simply born knowing like, how to put one's butt up in the air.
It was not for me. Back to the old tried and true for me. Even if I'm so in tune with Leslie Sansone that we practically breathe in rhythm now. I know now- being able to do the grapevine flawlessly does not a dancer make.