Udatey Datey.
WARNINGS: Incoherency, run-on sentences, parentheses abuse, repetitive speech patterns, tedious gobshite no one cares about.
My weekend was most excellent. I went to the Bangalore Queer Film Festivals, which I enjoyed very much. It was so well organised, and ran very smoothly (Or so it seemed to the audience. If my experience in stuff like this at the school and college level productions is anything to go by, I’m sure there were numerous instances of having to breathe into paper bags and decidedly Not Being Hysterical going on behind the scenes). I got over my nervous panic and said hello to mike_higher like a normal person (I think), and hopefully didn’t come off too weird or anything. There were so many interesting documentaries and movies, and though I was late on both days (I suck, sometimes), I loved what I did get to see. The documentaries in particular were very illuminating- especially Middle Sex, in my opinion, because I know (knew?) hardly anything about transsexual/transgender folk. Very informative. In the interest of complete honesty, however, I will have to admit I cringed (along with my brother, who whimpered too, actually) a bit when they showed Nandini’s castration because I was sort of expecting a timely fade away of sorts and wasn't prepared for random bloody penile area. They also showed some really good feature films- Shelter (I watched this all over again inspite of having seen it a more than once before, just to get the whole ~theatre~ experience. Man, I’m lame.), Breakfast With Scot (which mike_higher said he was excited about, and rightly so- it was really cute, and I sort of loved Tom Cavanagh already, which made it heaps more enjoyable), Bear Cub (I was not expecting to like this movie. But I did. I did heaps and heaps.), Mala Noche (very interesting) and Happy Together (I missed a pivotal 20 minutes, meh) and others I’m sure I’m forgetting.
Right, the last sentence is a horrid, run-on, paragraph-sized one. Pretend it’s all good, okay? Okay.
I can’t wait for next year’s Festival. I'm sort of voting for this to be not just an annual thing, but something like a monthly deal? Perhaps a Queer Film Club? Where we screen a film (OR FIVE) monthly? Yes? Yes?
I am now done with college. I just have my final exams left to give (for which I should be studying now, actually…some things never change), and then, I’m done. I have no plans, nothing to do after. I’m supposed to be prepping for all these entrances I’ll be giving, which is a nice excuse for the six month or so semi-sabbatical/holiday/whatever, it will actually be. I had my last Viva on Wednesday and they were total pricks of course and I, embarrassingly ended up crying. Not during the Viva, thank god, but after. And not a full-on, hiccuping cry, but just tears and needing to take deep breaths for a few minutes. It was awkward as hell, really, because there were students everywhere and I couldn’t find a private spot for the few minutes I would need to compose myself so a fair few noticed that my face was red and swollen (attractive!) and the boys very cautiously came over and went, “Sooo...er...wassup?”. Very sweet, and sort of funny, really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any of them this nervous or scared. The one I have sort of been studiously ignoring for a few weeks now (because I know if I try to be all pally with him, I’ll end up liking him, and all this is sort of bloody pointless at the end of five sodding years, yeah?), of course, did this whole checking in every few minutes thing which would have made me all wibbly on the inside under ordinary circumstances, but I am of course, much better than that and have stood strong. Right. Moving on.
There is a rash of sentimental farewell parties being organised with people I have never spoken to beyond the occasional “Hello, how’s it going?” in attendance all reminiscing about incidents that they probably heard of second hand. I suppose it is a sort of comforting ritual- knowing that you were actually liked by a whole bunch of people for the last five years, especially now that you are going somewhere where you have to decide whether you like them and see if they will like you back, all over again. It just seems a bit silly, to have people I have never spoken much to come up to me and tell me how funny they think I am and how much they want to hang out with me and how they just know that we’ll be the best of friends. And while I do feel a bit wistful that college is done with, and mostly apprehensive, actually, that I am now expected to be a useful, productive member of society, it seems a bit illogical to try and cultivate a whole lot of friendships at the very end of it all. Not that I am immune to it, of course. Sentimentalism is sort of like very warm, mushy custard. Comforting, and familiar. I know these people don’t hate me; why ever would I want to leave?
The DJ has been a victim of all the mushiness too- he calls almost everyday and sends weirdly affectionate texts. This would ordinarily delight me, but I’m a bit wary of it, because I expect it to taper off a few months after graduation. I’d just feel hurt and alone when it inevitably did. He’s wonderful, and my brother (from another mother), and I love him to bits, but I know that he isn’t very good with keeping in touch no matter how much he loves you. I have gotten used to him being like this and there is really no point in me getting my hopes up for a radical personality change, because obviously that is not going to happen. It’s hard to remember stuff like this when he’s offering to beat people up (semi-jokingly) just because they have annoyed the shite out of you, and that’s all the reason he needs really.
Shazzer is in Chicago, and the few very close friends I have left here will be leaving soon, too, which while very good for my academic pursuits (no distractions, in theory), is probably going to be terrible for my morale. The less contact I have with people the more agoraphobic and unhealthy I become with my disinclination to change out of my sweatpants and step out of the house etc. I shall have to set a routine for myself and actually stick to it. And promise myself to get fresh air for at least an hour or so everyday.
I’m feeling less and less inclined to go work out everyday- it’s alright once I’m there, but it is the getting there that is the problem. Why actually change into gym clothes and make the effort to stop lounging around watching shit on the telly and actually go do something productive? It’s madness!
My laziness knows no bounds.
I watched Ghost Town last night. This movie should have been much better received than it was. I’d blame the marketing, I think. It’s not as cheerful, and silly as the trailers would lead you to believe. Ricky Gervais was brilliant, of course (though reminding everyone of David Brent at times is something he will have to live with for the rest of his life), and Kristin Wiig was hilarious in her bits too. While the dialogue falls in certain places, the acting sort of saves it- Gervais goes from anal and annoying to sympathetic very fast, while still retaining his snarky side, and Greg Kinnear plays the asshole you can’t really hate well (For the millionth time. Why is he always typecast as the lovable dickhead?). Also, watched a whole bunch of absolutely awful Telugu movies. Is the only good actor that Siddharth guy? And the moustachioed guy who plays his Dad in every movie ever (Who is ridiculously good actually. Maybe because everyone else is ridiculously bad? I don’t know.)? And is Mahesh Babu being typecast or is he just…really wooden and terrible at dialogue delivery? His whole schtick of being this stoic, angry, tough guy was interesting initially but he is the same bloody character in every sodding movie, and it’s getting old. I’d just like to know if he’s a bad actor or just in bad or humdrum movies, is all. Telugu people, this is where you come in and show me your learnings.
This was utterly boring, and pointless, I know. But the wtf faces I'll make if I read this six months from now will be well worth the time and effort, I think.
My weekend was most excellent. I went to the Bangalore Queer Film Festivals, which I enjoyed very much. It was so well organised, and ran very smoothly (Or so it seemed to the audience. If my experience in stuff like this at the school and college level productions is anything to go by, I’m sure there were numerous instances of having to breathe into paper bags and decidedly Not Being Hysterical going on behind the scenes). I got over my nervous panic and said hello to mike_higher like a normal person (I think), and hopefully didn’t come off too weird or anything. There were so many interesting documentaries and movies, and though I was late on both days (I suck, sometimes), I loved what I did get to see. The documentaries in particular were very illuminating- especially Middle Sex, in my opinion, because I know (knew?) hardly anything about transsexual/transgender folk. Very informative. In the interest of complete honesty, however, I will have to admit I cringed (along with my brother, who whimpered too, actually) a bit when they showed Nandini’s castration because I was sort of expecting a timely fade away of sorts and wasn't prepared for random bloody penile area. They also showed some really good feature films- Shelter (I watched this all over again inspite of having seen it a more than once before, just to get the whole ~theatre~ experience. Man, I’m lame.), Breakfast With Scot (which mike_higher said he was excited about, and rightly so- it was really cute, and I sort of loved Tom Cavanagh already, which made it heaps more enjoyable), Bear Cub (I was not expecting to like this movie. But I did. I did heaps and heaps.), Mala Noche (very interesting) and Happy Together (I missed a pivotal 20 minutes, meh) and others I’m sure I’m forgetting.
Right, the last sentence is a horrid, run-on, paragraph-sized one. Pretend it’s all good, okay? Okay.
I can’t wait for next year’s Festival. I'm sort of voting for this to be not just an annual thing, but something like a monthly deal? Perhaps a Queer Film Club? Where we screen a film (OR FIVE) monthly? Yes? Yes?
I am now done with college. I just have my final exams left to give (for which I should be studying now, actually…some things never change), and then, I’m done. I have no plans, nothing to do after. I’m supposed to be prepping for all these entrances I’ll be giving, which is a nice excuse for the six month or so semi-sabbatical/holiday/whatever, it will actually be. I had my last Viva on Wednesday and they were total pricks of course and I, embarrassingly ended up crying. Not during the Viva, thank god, but after. And not a full-on, hiccuping cry, but just tears and needing to take deep breaths for a few minutes. It was awkward as hell, really, because there were students everywhere and I couldn’t find a private spot for the few minutes I would need to compose myself so a fair few noticed that my face was red and swollen (attractive!) and the boys very cautiously came over and went, “Sooo...er...wassup?”. Very sweet, and sort of funny, really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any of them this nervous or scared. The one I have sort of been studiously ignoring for a few weeks now (because I know if I try to be all pally with him, I’ll end up liking him, and all this is sort of bloody pointless at the end of five sodding years, yeah?), of course, did this whole checking in every few minutes thing which would have made me all wibbly on the inside under ordinary circumstances, but I am of course, much better than that and have stood strong. Right. Moving on.
There is a rash of sentimental farewell parties being organised with people I have never spoken to beyond the occasional “Hello, how’s it going?” in attendance all reminiscing about incidents that they probably heard of second hand. I suppose it is a sort of comforting ritual- knowing that you were actually liked by a whole bunch of people for the last five years, especially now that you are going somewhere where you have to decide whether you like them and see if they will like you back, all over again. It just seems a bit silly, to have people I have never spoken much to come up to me and tell me how funny they think I am and how much they want to hang out with me and how they just know that we’ll be the best of friends. And while I do feel a bit wistful that college is done with, and mostly apprehensive, actually, that I am now expected to be a useful, productive member of society, it seems a bit illogical to try and cultivate a whole lot of friendships at the very end of it all. Not that I am immune to it, of course. Sentimentalism is sort of like very warm, mushy custard. Comforting, and familiar. I know these people don’t hate me; why ever would I want to leave?
The DJ has been a victim of all the mushiness too- he calls almost everyday and sends weirdly affectionate texts. This would ordinarily delight me, but I’m a bit wary of it, because I expect it to taper off a few months after graduation. I’d just feel hurt and alone when it inevitably did. He’s wonderful, and my brother (from another mother), and I love him to bits, but I know that he isn’t very good with keeping in touch no matter how much he loves you. I have gotten used to him being like this and there is really no point in me getting my hopes up for a radical personality change, because obviously that is not going to happen. It’s hard to remember stuff like this when he’s offering to beat people up (semi-jokingly) just because they have annoyed the shite out of you, and that’s all the reason he needs really.
Shazzer is in Chicago, and the few very close friends I have left here will be leaving soon, too, which while very good for my academic pursuits (no distractions, in theory), is probably going to be terrible for my morale. The less contact I have with people the more agoraphobic and unhealthy I become with my disinclination to change out of my sweatpants and step out of the house etc. I shall have to set a routine for myself and actually stick to it. And promise myself to get fresh air for at least an hour or so everyday.
I’m feeling less and less inclined to go work out everyday- it’s alright once I’m there, but it is the getting there that is the problem. Why actually change into gym clothes and make the effort to stop lounging around watching shit on the telly and actually go do something productive? It’s madness!
My laziness knows no bounds.
I watched Ghost Town last night. This movie should have been much better received than it was. I’d blame the marketing, I think. It’s not as cheerful, and silly as the trailers would lead you to believe. Ricky Gervais was brilliant, of course (though reminding everyone of David Brent at times is something he will have to live with for the rest of his life), and Kristin Wiig was hilarious in her bits too. While the dialogue falls in certain places, the acting sort of saves it- Gervais goes from anal and annoying to sympathetic very fast, while still retaining his snarky side, and Greg Kinnear plays the asshole you can’t really hate well (For the millionth time. Why is he always typecast as the lovable dickhead?). Also, watched a whole bunch of absolutely awful Telugu movies. Is the only good actor that Siddharth guy? And the moustachioed guy who plays his Dad in every movie ever (Who is ridiculously good actually. Maybe because everyone else is ridiculously bad? I don’t know.)? And is Mahesh Babu being typecast or is he just…really wooden and terrible at dialogue delivery? His whole schtick of being this stoic, angry, tough guy was interesting initially but he is the same bloody character in every sodding movie, and it’s getting old. I’d just like to know if he’s a bad actor or just in bad or humdrum movies, is all. Telugu people, this is where you come in and show me your learnings.
This was utterly boring, and pointless, I know. But the wtf faces I'll make if I read this six months from now will be well worth the time and effort, I think.