I was lying down on my couch, watching a Jenna Marbles YouTube video on the TV in the living room. Continue reading “Dream Journal 1/30/19 | Jenna Marbles”
Daily Prompt 2/5/2016 | Second Time Around
The Daily post’s Daily Prompt 2/5/2016 | Second Time Around
“Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?”
I wish I could say that I was the type of person who could retreat back to my favorite books for comfort, or just for the sake of memories… but I’m not. I’ve been an avid reader my entire life, and I’ve read over 1,000 books since elementary school (I got an award at my senior assembly in high school for having checked out more books than anyone in the school, a total of 937 book over the course of 4 years). However, since graduating high school in 2008, I’ve read a lot less. Having moved from small town to small town several times in the last nearly 8 years, access to a decent library has not been easy to come by. There was also no book store within 45 minutes of where I live, up until 2 years ago, and it isn’t a very good one.
I’ve probably read… maybe 12 books in the last 6 or 7 years. Since having my son, the amount of time I even have to read has all but vanished, but even if I did have a few moments to myself, there are a dozen other things that I should be doing instead of reading. But even if I wanted to blow off showering, or vacuuming, or feeding myself to read a book, I just can’t. Why not? Because I can not reread a book that I’ve already read. I just can’t do it. There are only a handful of exceptions to this rule, and they are all from the same series, I’m sure you can guess which. The same goes for movies, as well as most TV show episodes.
I can not re-watch/reread anything. I need that element of surprise to push me forward. If the element of surprise is ruined, like if someone spoils it for me, I won’t watch or read whatever it is. I just won’t. Is that weird?
The ONLY exceptions to my weird little rule are the Harry Potter novels (but only in chronological order). They are just that good, and I relate to them so much. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was the book that set the wheels in motion for me, and literally changed my life. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever read any other books more than once. As far as movies go, I can watch the Harry Potter movies over and over, but I do lose interest after a while. I’m easily distracted. The one movie that I have seen at least 200 times, however, is Spaceballs. Quite possibly the greatest movie of all time. As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I used to only be able to sleep if I had this movie playing, and used to use it as background noise in my old apartment, before I had internet or cable. It’s just such a great movie! A few others I can handle are David Bowie’s Labyrinth, Pan’s Labyrinth, and Mirrormask.
So, I think I might be broken. Any time I’ve ever told anyone that I can not reread a book that I’ve already read, they think I’m crazy. I can’t explain it. Well, I can, I guess, since I just did…
I’m going to go now. Anyone else out there have a hard time getting through movies and books that they’ve already finished?
Thanks for reading, friends!
Dream Journal 12/29/15
(I’ve been meaning to write out several entries from my dream journal, and finally have time to do it. Here is the first.)
I am sitting in a large, beautiful living room with my two sister-in-laws, Kristen and Kelsie. I don’t know whose house we are in, but it is massive, and beautifully decorated. There is a large television mounted on the wall, complete with several, large speakers splayed around it. We are all sprawled out on a cream colored sectional couch, watching some kind of romantic comedy that I’m fairly certain does now exist. We are drinking red wine from colorfully painted wine glasses.
An actor comes on the screen, and Kelsie exclaims, “I loved him in Jurassic World, he is so hot!” Kristen agrees with her.
I ask them who he played in the movie, because I don’t recognize his face. They inform me, in unison, that it is Chris Pratt, and I laugh. The actor on the screen is at least 50 years old, and looks nothing like Chris Pratt. I know makeup can do wonders, but there is no way that it is him.
I tell them this, and they get upset, insisting profusely that is it definitely Chris Pratt. I frown, realizing that they are not joking. I pull up imdb.com on my phone and type in the name of the movie, which I can’t recall, other than the word “Indigo“. The name of the actor is Christopher Plant. Not Pratt. I show my phone to them, and Kelsie pushes it away, insisting that the site it wrong.
I frown, and look back up at the screen. The actor has now aged at least 15 years, and is sporting much thinner, grayer hair, and liver spots on his head and hands. I point enthusiastically at the screen, desperately trying to show them that this actor is not Chris Pratt. They start to get upset, and Kristen takes out her phone to check for herself.
Kelsie pauses the movie, and opens a browser screen on the TV (which is apparently a futuristic smart TV), and scrolls through the cast list for the movie. They both see that the actor’s name is Christoper Plant, and get even angrier, arguing that the sites all have him listed wrong.
Kelsie plays the movie, and the male actor has now aged another 10 years. His hair is white and wiry, and he has deep wrinkles in his face. One of his eyes is milky white.
Kristen says something along the lines of, “You can not tell me that he doesn’t look like Chris Pratt!” Kelsie nods. I just stare at them with my mouth open, completely frustrated.
Kristen shakes her head and gets up to check whatever is cooking in the oven, and Kelsie mumbles grumpily under her breath about me being ignorant. I am upset, and grab my whine, retreating to the balcony off of the large living room.
I can see snow on the ground and trees, but it doesn’t seem cold. I am wearing just a red and white, striped t-shirt and black yoga pants, and don’t seem to be bothered. The house in on a large hill or mountain, overlooking the city, which is lit up like a Christmas tree, with lights twinkling for miles in various colors. It is beautiful.
I take a large gulp of my wine, finishing the glass, and return to the living room, where Kristen and Kelsie have turned off the movie, and are now decorating a very large, white tree, which wasn’t there when I walked outside. I offer to help them, and they ignore me, only acknowledging that I spoke with sideways glances. I shrug, sit down on the sectional, and begin scrolling through the guide to find something to watch. I can hear them whispering behind me incoherently, and I start laughing.
Kelsie drops a large, green ornament on the ground, shattering it, just as the phone starts ringing in the kitchen. She swears loudly, and stares at me, as if blaming me. I look away to Kristen, who is giving me the same stare. I get up to answer the phone.
And then I woke up.