I’m bone-shatteringly tired today. Actually, I more feel like I’ve been made of egg shells. Teeny tiny a lot fragile. Didn’t sleep much last night, sat about watching the cricket (lame) and the tennis (doubly lame, would have been nice if Murray actually, you know, showed up) and then finished watching Alexander. When I finally did fall asleep in the early hours, I had weird dreams about Hephaestion. Fun times.
Ah, Alexander. I speak of course about the infamous Oliver Stone film starring Colin Farrell, Angelina Jolie, Anthony Hopkins and the criminally pretty Jared Leto. I’m not going to lie to you Marge, this film plays directly to my film weakness of sword and sandal epics. Troy and Prince of Persia stand before it as proof of my inexplicable love of these insane, historically/mythically inaccurate, overly long dramas. And oh, how I do love them.
That said, I am not blind to the faults, and often I take my own issues. Alexander started off well but I must admit, the ending left me disappointed. Not just because it really is too long – I fast forwarded the flashback scene with Olympias and bits of the last battle in India. What really baffles me is the handling of Hephaestion. I don’t understand why this love between them is set up so extensively from practically the first scene, and yet we never see them so much as kiss. Sure, there are a ton of deep and meaningful glances and exchanges, but come on, seriously? Not even once? It wouldn’t be so glaring if not for the fact that there are many other kisses in the film, least of all with that Persian boy who is featured far too much without having real substance, imo. I don’t get it, I don’t know why they didn’t go there, when it’s so clearly set up. Surely it does a disservice to this great epic love affair they tried to convey. And it was epic, those tears in Hephaestion’s eyes on Alexander’s wedding night don’t lie, people! But they never really follow it through, and that just doesn’t make sense to me.
But to return to the main point of the film…oh, Jared Leto is pretty. So very, very pretty. That wide eyed elfin innocence he has, man. And with the eyeliner…hmph. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret he so turned me off with his parading about at that 30STM gig I attended, and his sanctimonious speeches. Because seriously, he is pretty, even prettier in person, and rather talented too, in his way. But at the risk of sounding shallow, I have trouble seeing past the pretty. How I wish he didn’t strike me as such an ass so I could happily lust after him without always thinking ‘what a waste.’ Sigh.
I also watched a film called Mary & Max. This is a clay animation from 2009 and is rather bittersweet. It starts in 1976 and tells the story of two pen pals – Mary, a young girl in Melbourne, and Max, a man in New York with Asperger’s syndrome. Mary picks out his name randomly from the phone book and the film follows her through her life, and her friendship with Max. It’s a good little film, and if you liked Harvie Krumpet, I see no reason why you wouldn’t like this too. It’s quite heavy though.
What else did I do? I watched more Fringe, including one episode that heavily freaked me out and I sat there clutching poor Oreo with all the lights in the house on. It really does just keep getting better though and Peter Bishop is standing in for my dear beloved Ianto. Love. I watched the first five eps of Hawaii Five-0 which is a surprisingly good show. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe and I was sceptical as well, but it’s fast paced, has sharp dialogue, characters are pretty well formed and it’s funny. It’s the kind of cop show I like – in the vein of Burn Notice and NCIS. I also watched the first five eps of Brothers &Sisters, possibly the only straight up drama I’ve ever been interested in. Then there was also Scott Pilgrim and Return of the King.
You may notice that I’ve thrown myself into television. This is because I’m shutting out the world. I hole myself up in my room and I don’t talk to anyone because the thought of having to face my parents right now makes me want to tear my skin off instead. If you’ve been following me on twitter, you may have noticed a couple of days ago we received some bad news regarding my grandmother. My paternal grandmother, I should add. She had a bad fall and broke her hip, so they had to do a major replacement. Problem is my grandmother suffers from Alzheimer's, so any change freaks her out hugely. She was very upset, and if things work out, she'll never fully mentally recover from this. She also has a heart condition that means she can’t really have anesthesia. Obviously to have the operation, they had to put her under. This happened Saturday morning and unfortunately, her heart didn’t make it. They managed to resuscitate her, but she is currently in a coma and on breathing machines. They’ve given her three days.
I can’t…do this again. I don't think I have it in me. Not so soon. It took a lot out of me last time, more than I think I realised or even fully understood. And with mum, it’s somehow easier, cause I could hug her and be there for her and let her do her thing. But dad is…different. He’s not in a good place right now as it is, and with this on top of it…well let’s just say he’s not doing too well. He doesn’t say it, but you can tell, you know? I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to be there for him, because every instinct in me is shying away from everything. Three months ago, I could do this, but I can’t do it now. It’s the waiting, the uncertainty, it’s worse than anything. It makes it so much harder. Every time the phone rings, it’s like waiting to exhale. Then this morning we get a call from mum’s family to tell us my cousin has had her baby, a boy she named after my grandfather.
And I just can’t stand it. I can’t take this life and death, and joy and sadness, and drama and...life. So I’ll stay out late, and not sleep, and watch television, and clean my room, and sort out my wardrobe, and read books, until everything just stops and I disappear into nothing.
That's pretty much all I have to contribute. Wait, I did mention Jared Leto is really obscenely, gorgeously pretty, right? Would hate for that to go undocumented after all.
Music: My boy builds coffins - Florence + The Machine