Kabbalah Says

"Make a list of your desires. Put down everything that comes to mind no matter how small or how foolish it may seem.. [...] Without knowing your true desires, you don't stand much of a chance of attaining them. So be honest!"

["When you've done that, write next to each desire how you think you might feel if you attained it. How might your life change?"]

- To have a boyfriend that loves me as much as I love him. [Fulfillment.]

- To have a good relationship with my mother. [Serenity.]

- To be patient. [Duuh!]

- Think less about the 50million possibilities of life and work more with what I have in front of me. [I'd be less anxious.]

- To keep having wonderful and fulfilling friends. [I'd be more calm and sure of myself.]

- To be a famous artist. [Happy to show my truth for a larger number of people.]

- To see Madonna live. [That'd just leave me happy.]

- To go through Madrid withour dramas*. [Relieved.]

- To be less pessimistic. [Self-confident.]

- To be stronger and more willing. [I'd feel more alive and less bored.]

- To be less prejudiceful and more tolerant. [Would make me feel more open about my human relations.]

- To be as self-confident as I aparent to be. [I'd feel more honest.]

- To travel the world. [I'd feel wiser.]

- To help humankind more concretely. [I'd feel less guilty.]

- To do what I preach. [I'de feel even less guilty.]

- "To love and to be loved in return." [Once again: fulfillment.]

[Song: The Youth - MGMT]

Funny...

... how nothing's under the control of our hands and mind.

This week I met a guy on the web. The stalking life seems to be working somehow and, although I'm as single as ever, at least I'm under the influence of my old foe-friend: the feeling of possibility. Hate it, but I'm addiceted to it - and sometimes it do me good; even if the possibilities apparently never take me to somewhere different from where I am, the journey is the main thing.

Anyways, I'm flirting with this guy whom I called to come with me to an event a friend organized. I gave him my number so he could confirm if he'd go, but my celly never rang and we failed to talk on the MSN whole yesterday. However, he was told about it, about my presence and about my will of him coming. There was still hope.

As night went, Lucas was having the best of the times every time he noticed that life was more-than my neurosis. There was so many long-time-no-see friends and so many new connections being made that I simply didn't have the time to fret about him, even if I was constantly hoping that he was there scanning all the faces searching for familiar mine.

Then funny and lovely things started to happen. "Woody Allen moments", as says the ho, like hearing from a straight friend that he thinks I'm so cool that he considered hooking up with me! Or listening from people I just met that the moment I walked into the room, the air chanded and stopped to watch me go. Lol, funny uh? Especially when my shyness kicked in trying to steal the show, then I knew my ego was floating. Not that I should endorse the comments that fed it gluttonously, but a good thank-you was enough, pretending modesty is the highest example of egocentric behaviour.

That takes me to another moment where a new friend told she had a friend that was into me, and asked me how should her friend approach me. Then I played the Madonna and said "if you wanna talk to me, that's exactly what you're gonna do, talk-to-me!" Okay not so dramatically, but basically I told her that her friend should come, talk to me and then we'd see where things would lead. She insisted on what and how should he tell me, and I cut the crap saying "ahhh I've got no idea!" And I really didn't, I don't know how people should approach me, they're the ones who should know that, I think.

Later, this friend and I finally talked about that [kind of indirectly] and she told me I always seem so self-confident and sufficient, that somehow, I scare people to the point of they not knowing how to taLK TO ME WHAAAA?! Am I self-sufficient! Alright I'm indeed self-confident when it comes to not giving myself up to please society bastards; but apparently that's more overwhelming to the rest of the people than I thought!

Bizarre ain't it? But in the end it's funny, because my friends and I had already been discussing that, but it was when someone I'm not very much in touch with told me that, that I realized how real it actually is. However, comofas*? Lucas certainly won't deny his strong balls to make people feel better around him. But then, maybe, it's me who should try to make them feel not so overwhelmed by me? Maybe, it's me who should come into the boys and ask them out?

FE-AR! lol

[Song: Fastlane - Esthero featuring Jemine and Jelleestone]

*comofas = "what to do?"

Call 555-555-CONFIDE

Theres always that tale that the shrinks are always the fucked up ones and choose the job as a way of solving their own crap. I'd certainly be one of those if I had ever started the Psychology course I was accepted in couple of years ago; but there are times that I really feel like the shrink-of-us-all. I'm already used to the fact that I was born with a "confide in me" sign stamped on my forehead. But it's from her that I often get my experiences. But what experiences?

They say that wise are those who learn from others' experiences. If that is true, I'm the best relationship guru I know. Always the fly on the wall of my friends' relatioships, Lucas is always watching the behaviours and actions and when they come for advice, it's funny, sometimes even for me, how I always have something meaningful to say [I say so cos I get positive feedbacks]. And, to be honest, it's very true! Along the years I have listened so much to people's romantic complaints that, allied to all these million of films and books I read, makes me like to think I really have some substance on the matter.

But today, as I shared my wisdom with a friend, I found myself facing a moment of self-doubt in demagogy. Perhaps this vast but only observatory experience doesn't make me an impostor? After all, I have as much practical experience as a pubescent girl. From crush to crush I'm always the one who ends with the broken heart and the cheesy songs.

Nowaday I barely complain; a lot of times I even thank G-d for thinking that I'd easily fall into the "do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do" crap. However, there are always the moments you get pissed with everyone else for having the thing you most long for and they behave so inept in dealing with the thing.

Nevertheless, who said I'd know how to handle? My friend said I seem to be prepared for it when it comes, but am I? Dunno maaan!! Even liking to be a good adviser, I've got doubts if I'll be as shrewd when my time comes, conseidring that I've been automatically falling into the same old traps.

[Song: Creator - Santogold]

Pissing On Love

After I watched Jules et Jim, by the magnanimous François Truffaut, I started to think more fiercely about romantic relationships and how our perceptions of it are filled with conceptions infused in the genral speech ever since we start to get interested by knowledge.

I'm the guy who never had a real relationship for more than a week, or only the one who thought that was having. So, what could I say about relationships? I speak of them with the beautiful and cynical experience of the observer; though I never dated, I end up being the one who listens to almost all my friends' emotional craps. Maybe because I see a romantic relationship like any other one in life, in which you must give more than want to receive; maybe for [always] being the outsider with the view of the big picture; maybe for always being the bride's maid never the bride. ha-ha

Fact is that for alwats busying my mind with these thoughts and writing here or there about them, I started to consider a good idea to directly write about it - a book maybe - with the thoughts of a love pariah, that never ceases being an idealist.

[Song: Le Tourbillon - Jeanne Moreau]

Astral Hell

Since my encyclopedia told me there's no specific expression for this that I'm going to post about, let's use this one I invented, based on the literally english translation, to talk about the period in one's life that all kinds of shits are going to happen.

The astral hell is the 30-days period right before your birthday. Astrologers say it's the time when a circle in a person's life is close to an end, hence the emotional and [sometimes] rational mess. Lucas's period start on Feb 26 and he is already preparing himself to it.

Funny thing is that this week's Kabbalah Tune Up goes about ego and how we must keep always awareness in relation to it; but the first thing I read about astral hell said that it's a moment of introspection. Alright that's also something that should be done - considering that being aware includes knowing yourself - but maybe it's should be a time of looking for the big picture too.

Twas when I found another text that said:

According to the astrologer Eduardo Maia, the "Astral Hell" just happens when we don't realize that we should leave the stage to behold the world and disattach, in benefit of those that need some emotional or practical assistance. "It's time to be an instrument for the others' goodwill and not be concerned about oneself", he says. Considering that it mostly doesn't happen, comes the anguish, the emptiness and the sense of disorientation. [Porto Do Céu]

My astral hell ends on March 28 and until then my usual submarine behaviour will be assisted by an antenna connected to people.

Sounds contradictory: c'est moi most of the times.

[Song: Moving - Kate Bush]

Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?

My quickest and most honest-to-the-moment reply would be: no I do not.
But the hurt lies on the fact that a sparkly part of me wants badly to believe so. You know what with sparks: they might be tiny but very powerful and dangerous; a single one is enough to create an explosion. So this silly passion of mine that often hibernates, sometimes go up and so loud that the darkness of my well of desires is mostly lighten by the cries of this pest.
Old as fuck as I am now I can't say that I believe in the Disney concept of love at first sight. I however do believe in conjectures - not planted-by-me ones but inexplicable harmonies. A friend of mine found his current boyfriend in a rom-com like situation, filled with brief and unaware encounters and friends in common. Of course things are too young and only time will tell if they're affair is one to remember or will be swallowed by chance.
But seeing his happiness I cannot deny a pinch of jealousy for never have had it. Voilà, c'est la bitch beast! It's in times like this that I get the most sensitive about the fact that I never had a healthy and reciprocal love affair.

I'll definitely tap to the good sides and appreciate what's under my ownership. Things will come if they have to - but how I wished a supposed coincidence happened to me.

[Song: Manhatã - Caetano Veloso]

Today's Sins

First: I'm not talking about sex.

By the Christians phylosophy everything is temptation and the world is in full-time work on tempting you. Since human beings are inclined to sin we often fail to resist it. Let's pretend I'm a Christian.

Today I went to Salvador's newest mall, Salvador Shopping. I was supposed to go to UFBA to drop college but an afternoon in a capitalism heaven seemed more exciting, so I went. [Sin number 1.]

Once there I at first felt a bit intimidated by the place's portliness and brightness, but very soon it was replaced by São Paulo reminiscences, when dad lived there and we'd spend hours at the Villa-Lobos Mall; especially because Salvador's has a Saraiva Mega Store that reminded me of the São Paulo's Livraria Cultura one - a place where you'd be mesmerized by its impressive stock and shocked by the ungentle prices.

Still the temption runned there everywhere and there I was smelling its exquisite smell and hearing its exciting voice. Did I resist? I left the store with the Audrey Hepburn volume from the Taschen Movie Icons collection, Björk's Live Vespertine and Paula Toller's latest album SóNós - she's the vocalist of a Brazillian very popular pop band called Kid Abelha; the album is lovely and has a Rufus Wainwright cover. [Sin number 2.]

It was after the moment I stepped out of the place that I felt it again: the feeling I'm meaning to describe. The orgasmic sensation that comes right after you do something you shouldn't but you wanted. This feeling was firstly noticed in May when Purki and Red came to Salvador and we shopped; everytime I shop I feel half-queasy half-excited as if some kind of drug had just be injected into my veins. I of course ran desperately in the pursuit of a place to smoke.

After I had lunch and had ideas for an arcticle I kept strolling and got into a sportive store looking for shoes. Then I realized how delicious shopping soundtrack Sophie Ellis-Bextor's Trip The Light Fantastic is; If I Can't Dance helped me to choose a marvelous white Converse All Star. [Sin number 3 - can I blame Sophie for that one?]

And then later I returned to Saraiva and bought Roberta Sá's new album! Two!!! One for me and other for Nalim [from theCC]. [Sin number 4 - filled with a stupid feeling of selfless balance since I was buying something to someone else.]

So then I decided to leave - actually run away from the temptation den. But uhg on my way out I spotted a cute red Converse and... [Sin number 5.]

In the taxi back home the guilty that comes after the pleasure I described above hit me and well, considering I'm at this moment a Christian I deserve punishment. How many Our Fathers should I say and how much should I be kneeled down the corn?

[Song: If I Can't Dance - Sophie Ellis-Bextor]

Resilience

Last month Mariana and I were indirectly talking about The Cigarette Club and she said how she is never able to fit in a clique. I felt kind of sorry for her. Years ago cool would be if I'd never fit in, if I was always the poetic renegade nobody could understand; this sounds very romantic in an E! True Hollywood Story way. Nowadays one of the things that got me depressed in the first half of the month was the fact I didn't fit in. I'm not an easy person to fit in. I'm snobbish [the -ish is an euphemism], but also very resilient - this, surprisingly, can drive people away.

Mariana claimed she seldom finds groups of people with same interests and ideals as hers and that she doesn't have much patience to be so resilient. I guess that's where she sins [not being judgmental, just analytic], because we [thank G-d] will never find people who perfectly combine with us; actually I don't think that's her goal, but in such a world as this, being resilient is almost a must. Sometimes it's a problem, when you lose track of yourself in the process, but being able to be in contact with different opinions and tastes and visions is not only interesting but invigorating. Especially when they're sometimes very different from yours, that's a great ego test.

In The Cigarette Club we share similar points of view and interests, but like anything else we have different minds and that adds so much to the whole that it's beautiful; from a distance if you pay attention to a fervorous conversation of ours, you might think we're totally nonsensical - I'd rather call it stream of consciousness. The other day we were speaking nonstop like mad people for hours and as I lit a cigarette I looked around and realized how Altman-esque and Allen-esque we sounded. Nothing made sense, but everything did.

Humans need to be around humans; we need to share opinions and feelings, have decent intellectual and emtional intercourse. Resilience is genius for that.

[Song: One Day - Björk]

Why I Despize Steven Spielberg And George Lucas

Probably every cinephile has a favorite decade in movie History. Mine's not an exact decade but it's a period that had its peak in the mid 1960's and started to fade a bit after the mid 1970's. Some of my favorite directors, such as Woody Allen, Mike Nichols and Martin Scorcese had their debuts or major hits during this period. Woody had his Annie Hall, Nichols did Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?, while Scorcese had Taxi Driver.

Tonight I watched a film from the very end of this era [which I'll come to definition very soon] that gave me two insights about my movie tastes. The first was the one I started the post with, and the second was the final explanation [at least to me] of my hate towards Steven Spielberg and George Lucas.

The movie I saw was Kramer vs. Kramer [1979, by Robert Benton with heavenly Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep]. It's a court-drama about a divorcing couple disputing the custody of their 7-year-old boy; in a first abstraction I instantly liked this movie because of the similarity with my own life. No, my parents didn't go on court to dispute my sister and I, but the reasons Meryl's character leaves her husband for are very similar to the ones my mother left my father for. But it was during the documentary on the bonus material that I had my insight.

Someone [I don't remember if Meryl or producer Stanley R. Jaffe] says that KvK was a very specific movie, about one or two characters and their psyche and very deep feelings about the situations in life, instead of a generic film with more to look at than to think about. Right then I remembered an article I once read in a magazine.

The article talked about an era in film History that sort of started in the 60's with deep psychological dramas, especially historical-dramas, but mainly psychological thrillers and comedies; the latter contained subtle comic elements that actually hid the deepness of the characters. Movies such as Breakfast At Tiffany's followed that premise and reinvented the very basis of the usual dramedy. As for the thrillers, the world saw the decade rise with the masterpiece of the genre Hitchcock's Psycho and we also had classics as Polanski's Rosemary's Baby. These films talked mostly about human behavior; but it's the way they did it that fascinates me the most. The dramatic and psychological thrillers were more deep plunges into the characters' disturbed minds than shocking and superficial sensorial exploitation. Marvelous pieces such as Alan J. Pakula's Klute and Brian de Palma's Carrie were delivered and also classics like the unforgettable A Clockwork Orange and "Taxi Driver".

But as the times and society changed, along came the 1980's with its vibrant superficiality that seemed like people didn't think that going deeper was interesting anymore. [I believe these era is still on.] But it was in the mid 70's that this new way of dealing with art and life hit the cinemas, with the catastrophe cinema. And which was the big 1975 catastrophe hit that was like a fancy exploitation films springoff? Yup, Spielberg's Jaws. A while before we had the phenomenon called The Exorcist, that was more about spinning heads, bad hair and green vomit than a deep character study. These tragic and dumb movies became a fever, along with the visually psychotic Star Wars.

I'm not by any means saying these films aren't worth a damn, after all they saved the industry from brankruptcy [said the magazine article]; but they put to an end the era of technically great films with deep content. Of course I'm not that naive by saying Spielberg and Lucas killed the human behavior movies, but I need scapegoats for society's shallow turn. So I guess it's them.

Miss O'Hara

That's how she imprited herself into our minds, even if in the course of her life she was Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Kennedy and, at last, Mrs. Butler. This woman, despite her time and her marriages, took the courses of her own life and lived it the way she thought she should to survive.

It's a marvel to watch the presumptuous teenager, sorrounded by a dozen of boys who worshipped her, becoming a woman, probabaly as conceited as the girl, or even more. Scarlett with her mischievous ways, marrying men to hurt others or to dig herself and her family out of poverty could be the prototype of your current everyday anti-hero. She's snobby, prejudiceful, headstrong and sometimes very annoying; but one cannot help falling for a figure who lives her life so close to the edge.

All her shortcomings are so real and close to us that if we strip down our hypocrite masks we can see our really selves reflected on her. And if you permit yourselves a little bit further, you will find your guts being envious of her drive, at the same time you curse her for being so stubborn. But that's when catharsis happens because at the time you will catch yourself hating her, you will also be realizing you are exactly like her; concealing real feelings for the sake of pride and ego.

But it's inicially the things Miss Scarlett accomplish in her life that turn her into such an outstanding woman. She went from southern preppy girl to powerful businesswoman, confronting the society's patterns, shocking people by simply being herself and doing what she wanted, not what was expected. [The ball scene when she dances with Rhett is genius!] Maybe, if it weren't for Scarlett O'Hara there wouldn't be Eves, Eliza Doolittles, Holly Golightly... maybe not even Madonna!!

Of course that great deal of this immortality is credited to wonderful Viven Leigh. If her portrayl of Scarlett wasn't so delightful the whole thing could've been doomed. Leigh being so subtle at times and incredibly outspoken and dramatic at others created an aura, a charisma around her Scarlett that prevented us from being annoyed by her all the time.

The way O'Hara jumps onto things, nailing the opportunities life puts before her seems totally evident to Leigh, who performs as if there is no limit between actor and character. She IS that southern belle and no one can be convinced otherwise.

[Song: Cocoon - Björk]

8 Things

Soooo... I got tagged to this meme by J.D. from Joe's Movie Corner, which came in a good time because there are a few things from the last couple days that I wished to blog about, so... meh let's get it started at once.

THE RULES

1. All right, here are the rules.

2. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.

3. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

4. People who are tagged write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

5. At the end of your blog, you need to name eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

THE THINGS

1. Yesterday [the 10th] was Red's birthday. I called him in the morning with my usual bitchy/sarcastic tone to wish him happiness, blablabla and ask him out for the night. He kinda played the blasé [at least he sounded as such], but I didn't blow on the wind of his ego flame this time. At night, Purki and I took him from his course and we headed to the café for a hang out. Thing is that I've seen him little ever since I got back here; he's been home mostly and refusing our going out calls, and I'm simply not insisting so much, because of self-protection and also for not "blowing on the wind".

But tonight as I looked at him across the table, I finally felt free. I realized that all the terrible feelings I nurtured towards him the last couple months were suddenly gone. I feel like I completed the seemingly impossible task of collecting myself back together. As I said, free.

2. The day before yesterday I told Purki to spend the next six months at my house in Salvador if the college thing didn't work out. So, confession time: I got a bit more excited than the normal with the idea. Cold shower: the college thing worked out. I'm happy for him, but it'd be cool to have him there for some months.

3. I had Ecstasy at the rave party I went last weekend. It was a quarter of it actually and the effect took hours to come because I had swallowed it, instead of sucking. It came and lasted less than an hour; I got oversensitized, saw the colors even brighter like fire and the music waves throbbed on my skin in a way I cannot describe. I won't lie, it felt amazing.

4. Ever since I got here I've been smoking less. I'm not allowed to smoke in the house and I'm too lazy to go out all the time to smoke, besides I'm avoiding smoking around dad so I don't have to listen to preaching.

5. I realized that day by day my bitterness is becoming a more honest thing. You see, before I used to pretend I was okay about something just not to hurt people; but that usually led me to bitterness and stress. Recently I realized that I'm letting clear what I find amusing or not, funny or not, interesting or not. Not that I'm a total bitch; just half one.

6. When I was a kid I used to be alone a lot, staging at-the-moment invented plays for invisible audiences. The plots were usually about romance, or some crazy and wild adventure with monsters, bullies and loads of magic. I was always very shy so nobody ever knew about my solitary diversions; but now that you know, can you see anything else for me than the artistic career, whether writing or acting?

7. I love the fact that I can be trully drama-queenish sometimes. I realized early in life that if you assume the wound and embrace it to the point of letting it hurt and bleed till its exhaustion, one moment you'll get used to it and it'll stop hurting.

I'm reading this book about a woman who, in a year, travels to Italy, India and Indonesia in the search for everything in life; in a certain chapter she describes the vipassana meditation in which you stay hours in the same position without moving, no matter how uncomfortable your body might get during the period.

The metaphor is that in life we are always jumping like monkeys, trying to run away from the uncomfortable and the pain; but we forget that every little thing in our lives happens for a reason and are there to be understood and pondered. By acknowledging the hurt and letting it be, instead of look for desperatre measures to cover it, we learn how to deal with it; better: we push our limits further.

8. I'm a really slow reader and hate that. But I guess it's just how I am so I'm through with trying to read faster. Whenever I try I get lost and understand nothing from what I've read.

And I tag:

Alea Toria Est

Desavergonhada

Like A Blogger

Misconcepciones De La Mente Humana

Rasgando As Vestes De Elena Bennet

Sem Papel

The Dark Girl's Rhyme

The Ho

[Song: Hyper-Ballad - Björk]

Realizing Woody Allen

As I watched Scoop last Sunday it firstly didn't come to my mind how much I loved Allen. Now I realize that and I believe I've seen enough [Annie Hall, Mighty Afrodite, Everyone Says I Love You, Match Point and "Scoop"] to raise him as my favorite director. I am very aware that there is a lot more to see, but Scoop [which some says is disposable to his career] made me laugh in a way I haven't in the theatres in a long time.

His screen presence is so stunning [stealing each and every scene he's in] it makes us miss him even if the rest of the cast is just as marvelous. He plays the magician Splendini and I realized how the part fits Allen perfectly.

When I first watched "Everyone Says I Love You", every sequence gave me if not big fat laughs, huge and silly grins. And by the end, as if it weren't enough the man simply made Goldie Hawn float as she danced! Pure cinematic magic!! In "Annie Hall" I delighted myself with those scenes I had seen a million times before in other movies and even Brazillian novelas, realizing it was a recent-still-vivid pop culture icon I was dealing with. The Greek drama inspired "Mighty Afrodite" made me cum in a moment of my life I was studying those literary classics. And in "Match Point" he was able to turn Scarlett Johansson into an even more desireable woman, as if her herself wasn't enough.

The reality in his characters is so adorable as it is tangible; maybe because he taps to the psychotic aspect of human behavior and treats it with such a fine and witty dark humor; maybe because his self-deprecatory auter-egos are simply lovely by essence; the thing is: the more fucked up the character is the more close to ourselves it seems to be. Allen and Johansson's chemistry in "Scoop" is delicious; they seem the most natural you can get in a movie, making it looks like they're doing nothing most of the times. Maybe that's why everyone wants to work with him; it must surely be very challenging to look that laid back.

As for me, I only wish to be a quarter of the genius he is. Pretentious? Maybe. But can't a kid dream?

[Song: A Good Thing - Saint Etienne]

About Betrayal, Human Behavior, Mike Nichols and Me

In one of Mike Nichols' films there is this character called Betty, played by Catherine O'Hara. Betty is this short talkative woman, no... talkative would be an understatement her mouth is like a motor and her favorite subject is other people's marriages, better saying other people's marriages' failures. Someone's always having an affair and her main goal is to find out with whom, oh and of course tell her friends, who happen to be most of Washington D.C.'s population. Betty is friend of the couple Rachel Samstat and Mark Forman [played by G-ds Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson]. Rachel was pregnant of their second baby when she finds out in a very silly way that Mark has been having a romantic affair with another woman. She flies back to her dad's home in NY with their baby girl Annie. Now here's where things get juicy.

Like everyone, especially women, who is not sure of what they're speeching, Rachel talks too emphatically to a long-time friend how her marriage is definitely over, therefore she must be at home in case her husband calls. The thing is, it's obvious Rachel still loves her husband, they got maried in a fever and despite the recent cold shower the temperature was still high. While she waits for him to call she does what every other human being who doesn't have an artichoke where should be the heart, she cries. We modern kids all cool and hip about things and [I must vehemently add] outsiders, probably can't understand why's she letting that motherfucker hurt her that way. If you [stupidly, I must add again] keep that thought you'd be angry with the fact that she does return to him, even though it's clear she can't trust him ever again.

That is the particular thing that amazes me the most; I'll quote a song now: "I know nothing stays the same, but if you're willing to play the game, it's coming around again." The screenplay of Heartburn was written by Nora Ephron based on her novel, but it was Mike Nichols who directed it. And that makes the film even more special, because Nichols' films tend to have a mouthdroping and shocking accuracy about human behavior. I doubt that any of the readers of this blog failed to see a little [euphemism] movie called Closer. It's not only the fact that both were directed by Nichols that makes these two mentioned films like brothers; in both of them we feel dazed and confused by the characters' choices and actions. Worst! We reluctantly see ourselves in them. But what Nichols majestically does, with a humbleness that all those Eastwoods, Spielbergs and Haggises should watch and learn, is to show us how we've been leading our lives and dealing with people close to us and mainly with ourselves. How we thoughtlessly go from one thing to another and for a second seem to consider that our actions might affect, not always in a good way, the person living with us. But we keep playing the game don't we?

The song I quoted above is "Coming Around Again" by Carly Simon. The song wasn't written for the movie Heartburn but it's not only part of the soundtrack how it is the fundament of the film's score. By the end of the film Rachel is with her kids and she's singing with her older daughter that children's song "Itsy Bitsy Spider". Please I'm no lecturing here but try to think the spider as us human beings, I'm not much fan of that thought since I despize spiders but there we are crawling up the water spout. We know it's bigger than us, we know it'll wash us out but we're always willing to play the game, especially because the sun will always come out and it will be coming around again.

You don't feel angry with any of Heartburn's characters; maybe poor Rachel for going back to her unfaithful husband, but you kind of understand her. That is because Nichols is not worried in judging his personages, so you never feel like it either; and probably because you're not wasting time judging their actions you feel you can relate to them easily [after all we shiver with the idea of being judged even by ourselves]. So here comes the confessional part of the text: I don't say I will never betray a person whether a friend or a boyfriend but I will always work myself not to. For only one reason: I, in my great comfort sometimes [another euphemism] horny zone can never approach, even if I become the best of statisticians [never gonna happen], how much of my actions can affect other people.

[Song: Coming Around Again/Itsy Bitsy Spider - Carly Simon]

Lover-ly

"The difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated."

- Eliza Doolittle

After Professor Henry Higgins throws away the ring and Eliza thinks he will beat her, she dramatically bends over the fireplace and soils her hands with ashes. And there she is, the outstanding lady who had just drawn the attention and admiration from everyone at the Embassy Ball breaking down the faux, revealing her origins: Eliza Doolittle was not a lady, she was a flower girl.

In British/European societies the differences between classes are very well defined and rarely changed; no matter if you worked your whole life to become a well succeeded nouveau riche you will always be inferior to the aristocratic minds of the high society [even the Escaladers tend to adhere to that mentality].

My point in all this cinematical/sociological blabbering is our roles as inhabitant of this global web. Here we have Audrey Hepburn giving life to one of the most charismatic and deep characters ever created. [I don't care if she was dubbed on the musical numbers or if she never performed it on the stage; it's Audrey Hepburn everyone thinks about whenever they hear the words My Fair Lady/Eliza Doolitttle.] When she was the flower-gal she simply survived, living through the days just to keep herself alive; after being educated by Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering she is a woman aware of her role on society. Is she?

When Eliza soils her hands, still dressed on her "princess costume" she realizes she doesn't know who she is, so she flees to find out who is the real persona inside her, she goes out to find herself; when she returns to her original place no one can recognize her, after all what such a lady as herself could be doing among a group of beggars? We let the outside-world define who we are and what we ought to do; all Eliza knew was that she was a "good gal" who sold flowers on the streets; that was her duty, that was her role on the play. But when she's offered a new position and she learns how to behave in that place she can't decide if she's worthy of all that, because everyone always told her she wasn't.

My Fair Lady's plot happens in the 1920's and back then human relations were still stiff and rigid like that. In another movie that portrays that same era, Robert Altman's Gosford Park, in a particular scene all the servents declare they have come from a long lineage of servants, their parents were, their grandparents were as well and so will be their kids; just today my father was telling that back in the 60's the prostitutes weren't allowed to frequent downtown because they would be tarnishing the town's morality. But nowadays, things are different, right? Society has evolved and permitted people to define themselves for themselves.

I wouldn't say so. We are still told what to do, what to be, how to behave, who to worship and follow, what to say, what to believe and the beat goes on. In Kabbalah we are taugh that we are the responsibles for every little thing [good or bad] that happens in our lives; so why do we still let ourselves be governed?

When Eliza Doolittle said that the difference between a lady and a flower girl was the way she is treated, she wasn't placing the blame on everyone else for her grace or disgrace. At that moment she was realizing that people would always judge her and always draw itineraries for her life; but it's only when you look inside yourself and assume who you are and take control of your own life is when you will be treated like a lady. At the moment she knew she was a lady because she wanted and chose to be so.

So once again I go about this: it's all about choices...

[Song: Wouldn't It Be Lover-ly? - Audrey Hepburn]

Give Me Back Solitude!!

It's funny how your mood and spirit get used to certain situations and how easily they feel abused under certain circumstances.

For the last two weeks I have been living alone. Just me, myself and my way. I have been walking around the house with nothing but my underwear, enjoying my music out loud whenever I felt like, working on my thoughts and also on errands and reading my books. I got used to take a shower with the bathroom's door opened so I could hear the music playing in my bedroom; and never freaking about the kitchen because I would wash stuffs right after I used, so the pile would never be too big.

This weekend however, my friends came over... and stayed. Since then I don't read, I can't listen to my music, I don't watch whatever I want, neither keep my kitchen clean. Uhg, I love these three friends of mine but I really get pissed when the limit line between hospitality and abuse is crossed. Since they're my friends and know I'm alone and all, wouldn't hurt to offer help and do stuffs around the house, such as a little sweep or washing the dishes without having me asking to do so.

Sorry, this is ego-way but I miss my solitude and the silence whenever I wanted. I indeed had good times with them during the weekend but limits are limits and people have to see them without being constantly warned about. That's the problem with us human beings, we are always waiting and hoping for someone else to notice the things we should see long time before; especially the ones right in front of us.

I know I could've told them the way I really wanted things; then I admit I had my share on the failure of communication, but I do believe people have to try to do more than what they think it's enough.

Anyways, I'd never thought I'd say this, but thank G-d tomorrow's Monday.

[Song: Too Darn Hot - Stacey Kent]