And now for something weird.
The other night I slept 16 hours when normally I sleep six at most. This may account for Richard showing up in my dreams for the first time.
I was sitting in the back of a large, black SUV and a man was sitting beside me. We were both dressed in black slacks and turtle neck sweaters and talking about some project we were working on. No specifics on that; just that we were making preparations to continue with it. A few moments later someone walked up to my side of the vehicle, and I partially rolled down the window to see who it was. It was Richard Armitage, and he was also dressed all in black with some sort of black cap on his head. He peered into the window and said very slowly, “There you are.” Then he pulled a black ski mask over his face and just stared at me through the eye slits for an inordinately long time. Eventually I looked straight ahead and said, “You’re unnerving me.”
Then it was onto the next dream where I was a prisoner in a concentration camp and there was lice all around. I woke up with an itchy scalp.
Let the psychoanalysis begin. :D
I’ve made a lot of jokes about the bald man, and this morning I saw a Google alert that almost made me bury that urge. An obituary for Richard L. Armitage landed in my in-box. I was on the verge of typing a post to pay my respects and give notice I was doing away with the jests but looked again and realized this obit was about someone in Michigan (may he rest in peace). Our dear Richard L. is still with us, which means I’m not letting up. :D
But I will say in all seriousness that I appreciate people who give service to the country.
Now back to the teasing.
Oh, and a little something to readjust your vision before you go.
A couple of weeks ago TheQueen and I were here:
Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see these guys performing, but we did enjoy the most posh “outdoor” restroom in New York while we were there:
For the uninitiated all of this is in Bryant Park, which is behind the New York Public Library in Manhattan. And it’s one of my absolute favorite places in the City. I told TheQueen she has to return in good weather.
More about the trip in a later post. For now, I hope you all have a wonderful evening!
I’ve been surveying the landscape again, and it’s hard not to wonder how Richard Armitage’s advent in America is going to play out. The Captain America promotion didn’t count. It was a blip. This Hobbit press machine is the real thing, and its invasion is formidable. Walking around New York has made that clear. Ads for this movie seem to be plastered on every available surface, so that I can go nowhere without being met by the Hobbity bunch, even on the steps leading in and out of the subway.
I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not so sure now. Last Saturday was already my saturation point, which wasn’t a problem because I just did what I always do when I’m full up to the eyeballs on information about Richard Armitage — go AWOL for a few days. But as I try to rejoin the march, something is in jeopardy — my voice on this blog. I’m feeling the need to refrain from sharing as many of my thoughts about show business. A little Armitage Protection Mode trying to kick in.
Perhaps this post is a commitment to remain honest. Yes, I’m putting myself out here for some accountability. Please note I’m not accountable to share everything I’m thinking. If I did that, your hair would curl. But this need to remain honest is my bullshit detector coming to my rescue, and thankfully, it makes me draw back and take note of what’s going on around me, and if I’m feeling too hemmed in by conventional thinking, I want to get loose. Mostly, I fear becoming homogenized — oohing and aahhing and generally just saying the same old claptrap I find so prevalent and uninteresting.
For now, I’m hanging out with my girls, loving that, and trying mightily to forget The Hobbit exists. It’s a little hard to do sometimes:
I submit to you again that when I see photos like this, I’m wondering why I went to college.
More photos that inspire the make-up artist in me. :D
High resolution photo courtesy of Ali at RichardArmitageNet.Com
What are you waiting for?! Sign up for Air New Zealand’s contest to win a chance for a fantastic trip. Seeing The Hobbit is only part of it!! You know my hatred for certain kinds of punctuation. Would I be using this many exclamation points if I weren’t serious about this?!! You only have a little while longer to enter. 6pm on Sunday 11th November 2012 NZ Time is the deadline, and that is, well, I don’t know how many hours that is from now, but it’s not long.
If you haven’t clicked on the contest link, just know that it has something to do with this video:
And no, you’re not seeing things. There are a couple of familiar nuts in it. They get to let us in on the experience here:
I’m utterly serious that they are nuts. Larry Curtis (aka MrCere at TORn) despite his beautiful baritone voice is definitely a nut. Cliff? Oh yeah. :D And I say all of this with the greatest affection. They fit right in with this place. (note to self: I need to write about these two some more).
Okay, I found a clock for all of you who are like me
and lazy and don’t have the inclination to keep up with the current time in New Zealand. ;p
I was sitting here thinking I’m not quite sure where to put this post. Sometimes it seems this place is so full of snark that I’ve boxed myself into something and can’t get out of it. But that’s a lie. I’m not in a box and never have been. I’ve just believed at times I was. And I love snark. I love teasing. It’s stock and trade at my house, and I’m the least of the teasers there. But I can hold my own, and I’m glad. It’s made life so much more fun. Being able to laugh is a God send.
And if I had not been able to laugh for the last several years, I think I would have gone mad. Life can be rough and never turns out like we expect. I don’t know one person, not one, whose life has gone the way they planned. That sounds like a downer, but really, it’s not always a bad thing although it’s often an unnerving thing, and I’ve been unnerved plenty. Thankfully, I got early training in the unexpected, in being blindsided by what life can throw at us. Some of what I’ve been learning to write about has to do with all of the unexpected events that occurred to me as I was growing up. Trying to make sense of them and how they affected me.
One thing I’ve realized is how weird my childhood was by comparison to most others’. When I tell anyone even a little of what it was like, I can see their shock and sometimes pity at what they believe I endured, but I never really think of it that way. It’s taken me a long time to believe I endured anything, and I have never pitied myself and don’t relish anyone else’s pity. I just know I am what some people think of as damaged goods. But really we’re all damaged goods. My damage just seems more dramatic to some, and in a way, it’s a gift because it’s freed me. I’m not confined by nearly as much conventional wisdom as most people. My upbringing cut me loose almost from the beginning. The only real obstacle I had was in not realizing it. It used to really bother me that I wasn’t conventional and didn’t fit anywhere or with any group. I didn’t realize what a gift that is. To not fit in with a particular group leaves you free to fit in anywhere. But first you have to learn to live with being considered a weirdo. You have to embrace it. You have to embrace that gift. So anyone reading this who feels like you’re just out of step with the world, be glad. The world is often full of absurdity. You want to be in step with that?
And what brought this on? A video among other things. LOL! I can so relate to this:
What a little gem.
Should I bother with the proverbial Richard Armitage tie in or leave him alone for the evening? I think I’ll leave him be.