Like Sarah Dunn instead for being so amenable to giving us photos of our guy.
Click the photo to reach her Facebook page.
Tangent — I’m in a Funky Mood
This isn’t a critical commentary on fandom or my being a fangirl, or maybe it is. I’m not sure yet. Frankly, I would have loved to have participated more in the Berlin premiere festivities and all that’s ensued since. I just couldn’t. The events of my life for the last two and half weeks have been consuming and surreal. But first a little history.
For those who haven’t figured it out yet, and I think I said it one time on blog, SO is a vicar in a small town. Yes, that’s right, I’m Harry Kennedy. ;-) And as SO’s significant other, I’ve seen and done many things that sometimes confound me at how life has turned out. When I was pondering what I would be when I grew up, I don’t think anything to do with a vicar ever factored into it. And if someone had told me I would be intimately involved with a vicar, I would have laughed until I wet my pants. For the record, SO wasn’t a vicar for the first almost 20 years I knew him.
But SO being a vicar the last several years means we often deal with tragedy and sometimes deal with death. And when I say deal with it, I mean not only going where tragedy and death have occurred on occasion in order to help the people involved but also having an open door policy to our home, so that hurting and devastated people can come see us when they want. When my kids were little, we put a limitation on this, but despite that, my children have seen and heard a lot of what goes on in the world that’s ugly. We have had drunk people, beat up people, devastated people in our living room on many, many occasions. As to death, SO and I also see the side that most of the public does not see very often if at all — being with someone when they die, the coroner coming to call, the undertaker showing up not long after and sometimes witnessing the devastation left by someone who has killed himself. These are experiences I’ve had countless times since we moved to this place.
To top that off, for over ten years I sat on the board of a cemetery district which oversees cemeteries in a few of the little towns around here, and when you deal with small cemeteries, it means you may be overseeing burials. I’ve overseen countless burials and a couple of reburials, and that includes sometimes standing in an open grave. I remember one time standing in a particular grave where a woman being buried was to be placed beside her parents, who had died about 70 years earlier. When we were preparing the grave, the ground was very soft, and the coffin of one of her parents had shifted a little so that its corner was poking into the woman’s grave site. I looked over and the wood had rotted enough on the buried coffin that there was a hole big enough for my hands to fit in up to my shoulders, and I could see some of the blousy liner coming out of the hole. Yeah, that was creepy, but I got over it.
And I’ve gotten over so many things. Looking at a hole in a buried coffin is nothing. I’ve gotten over being with two teenage boys in the counseling room at the high school when SO told them (at their mother’s request) their dad had committed suicide an hour before, and they had to be told so that the town’s people wouldn’t break it to them. I got over watching a man rejected by his father on the father’s deathbed. I got over one of my closest friend’s sons being lost in the river and being with her when Search and Rescue came to tell her several days later that his body had been found 8 miles down the river. He was 18. I got over the guy down the street shooting himself in the head with a shotgun, and SO and I being asked to come to the place before it had been cleaned up. And I could go on and on with much worse.
Maybe I’m not completely over these things as it’s hard to type this. But when I say I’ve gotten over something, I mean enough to bounce back and do what needs to be done. That’s always been my best ability — to roll with the punches no matter what they are, and I’ve done it and done it and done it, but on Monday, December 9th and the following days, I was almost in a zombie like state.
What created my malaise was three deaths occurring the week before and then about 15 minutes before the premiere started, I got a call about a dear friend of mine who had been careflighted to the city and died within a few hours. No one knew she was ill. The next day I was talking to another friend and said to her how it’s eerie these things usually happen in threes, but this time it was four. As soon as I said it, I stopped and had the horrible thought that this was the beginning of the second three. The next day two more deaths occurred.
All of this is a very small part of the terrible events I’ve come close to over the last 15 years. I ask myself sometimes if it’s only SO’s profession which makes me privy to so much heartache. That’s some of it, but I’m not sure. I don’t know anything except that tragedy has become the norm. Most days I can deal with it, but sometimes I get overwhelmed, and I think that’s a good sign. May I never become so accustomed to horror that it has no effect on me.
Is there any wonder why I want to be lighthearted and laugh when I come here? Does that mean Richard Armitage or anyone else is a lesser person? I hope not. Just know that my blog and many of my comments are supposed to be fun for the most part, and to make it something that is life and death is not my intent, and that’s not a judgment on anyone else. It’s where I’m coming from.
Given all of this, I don’t want to forget the point, which is to love people as God loves, help others as often as I can, and never weary of doing good. And I appreciate this:
And I keep listening to this:
I had to get this post out of my system. Now that it’s done maybe I can get back to cutting up. And I’ll be giving my review of Desolation of Smaug and not whimping out by letting SO do it for me as I did last year. Just need to go see the movie and keep staying away from other reviews and spoilers.
Mr. Armitage Goes to Los Angeles, or RA on Politics Part III?
The conversation between Richard “I have no experience” Armitage and Little Jackie Paper was a scream. It seemed there was a private joke between them and any moment both of them would break out in giggles. Heck, I did break out in giggles when “Jackie” kept referring to Thorin “Orkenshield.” [edit: I have been duly chastened on the proper spelling of Orcenshield. :D]
Then it got even funnier when Richard gave a lesson on inhaling and blowing:
And Jackie Paper is thinking, “Oh yeah, man, that’s perfect.”
Or at least it looked that way. But what do I know? Pass the brownies. :D
note: watch some people take this seriously.
#4 Richard Armitage and His Hair
This is part of my series of posts counting down to and through the Thanksgiving holidays and expressing my thankfulness for something I’ve received, experienced or participated in.
Richard and His Hair.
Richard Armitage has excellent hair. I’ve thought that ever since I saw this:
It was a vast improvement over the extensions:
But back to the luscious locks:
Is that seriously awesome looking hair or what? Women would kill to have hair like this. And if those are extensions around his neck, I don’t want to hear about it! That looks real.
And I’m going to stay off the topic of his sideburns as I absolutely despised long sideburns until I saw them on Richard. I’m not kidding when I say that. I cannot stand long sideburns. They look awful to me, but Richard can wear them, and I’m thinking about a wolf whistle.
About the time I got used to the magnificent mullet, I was hit with this:
That’s the mother of all razor cuts. I mean all razor cuts are or should be defined by it, and when their barbers are suggesting razor cuts, men should aspire to this cut. Not 6’2″, don’t have beautiful blue eyes and a great jaw? No problem. There’s a cut that fixes all of that. I can hear the thinking now.
And then there was this which created a backlash in RA Universe. A significant number were saying ewwwww to Guy’s new do. Me? I loved it. Even when it was unwashed the first few weeks, but man, he cleaned up well:
Then it was back to the sleek look:
Where he stayed until this came around:
I’m a beard person, so this was fantastic to me.
And since then, I’ve been treated to all types of styles to please any appraising eye.
A little bit of a pompadour going on in this one:
Not much hair shown; this was the brutally short look:
Okay, so it’s not all of his hair, but Thorin’s mane is fantastic. I had to show it, and you get some chest hair thrown in:
Back to the tailored look, and I’m talking the hair:
This one is the I don’t give a rat’s ass how I look ’cause I’m considering that prisoner of war role:
And finally the pompadour is perfected:
That particular photo still packs a punch.
Heck, it’s just been more or less a thrill ride to see what he would come with next, and it occurred to me that there is no need to get antsy about his next project and every reason to be thankful for being entertained by his hair. To wit:
Is there enough going on here to make a ponytail for Poldark?
And if I get bored with this, I can go back to some old photos.
Here’s a favorite:
See what I mean about the sideburns?
#10 Love’s Labour Not Lost
This is part of my series of posts counting down to Thanksgiving and expressing my thankfulness for something I’ve received, experienced or participated in.
Working.
When I was a kid, it seemed I always had chores to do. Sometimes people who look back on their childhoods realize they had an exaggerated view of what they were asked to do as kids. That is not my case. I was an only child for almost 11 years, and by the time my brother came along, my parents were used to treating me almost as an adult. I started driving at the age of ten, and that was because my mother had a very complicated pregnancy while carrying my brother. When school time rolled around, Mom was pretty sick and on bed rest. She gave me some money, and I drove to a nearby clothing store to buy my school clothes for the year. I was in fifth grade. I especially remember buying my footwear as it was the first time I didn’t have to wear corrective shoes, but that’s another story.
By the time I was 14, I was a seasoned driver who frequently traveled from the suburbs where we lived to the downtown area of the city so I could drop my Dad at his workplace and then go onto school. My mother would have done it, but she was living in another city during the week (and commuting back home on weekends), so she could finish law school. My Dad worked two other jobs as well to pay for her schooling, and that left many of the routine errands of grocery shopping, filling the the car with gas, picking up dry cleaning, or taking my kid brother to doctor and dentist appointments for me to accomplish. I also babysat my brother a lot. He was my shadow.
I did love the freedom I had to drive, and I used it. The metropolitan area where I grew up is one of the largest in the U.S., and I used to know every inch of it and made friends everywhere. It was a blast, and even as I look back on this now and shudder at some of the places I went and people I saw (and with my brother in tow about half the time), I would probably do it the same way again.
But the fun part aside, I was a kid who was working. From the time I was 13, I also had a job outside of my parents’ errands and care of my brother, and I also managed the household during the week while my mother was gone. This meant cleaning and cooking and doing all of the laundry. Eventually I started managing the bills and other expenses. My parents had a checking account, but my dad would give me cash each month to take care of bills, groceries and gas. When I would buy groceries, I would have the bills in hand and purchase money orders for their amounts. I kept the records and money in a little book that I gave to my dad to check and then he would make sure I always had enough. I was never without money for myself as well even though the family was on a tight budget. So much of that had to do with my parents being really good with money and knowing how to make it stretch. My dad knew how to fix everything and taught me how to fix things as well. My mother was a master meal planner and taught me how to shop and prepare meals on a dime – literally. She would make a game of it, and so we had this thing going to see who could make the cheapest meal.
I became so proficient at household management that I started to take matters into my own hands in other areas. My brother had been a very premature baby and had always had problems as a result. One problem was his battle with ear infections. Without my parents’ knowledge, I decided to take him to see an ENT doctor to have a battery of tests run. When the tests were done, the doctor took me into his office while my brother played in a special waiting room designed for kids. He explained my brother needed tubes. I asked some questions about it. The doctor launched into a fairly technical reply, and then he stopped himself in the middle, leaned forward in his chair, tipped his head down at me and asked, “Where are your parents?” I was 15 at the time and offended that he didn’t think I was worthy to hear his explanation of the tubes. I made up some excuse about my parents’ whereabouts. He looked at me puzzled and then he continued on and handed me a stack of paperwork to take with me. This kind of scenario played out over and over in my teen years.
During my teens as well, my mother started a law practice after having been an assistant district attorney for a short time (she was good at prosecution but hated it) and despite getting numerous offers from established firms, she wanted to go out on her own. It took everything we had as a family to get that off the ground, and I began working for her as a gopher and mostly did deliveries or made filings at the courthouse. Once I came of age, I became a paralegal. A few years earlier I had learned along with my mother how to shepardize cases, and I spent many nights on the top floor of the county courthouse where a free and very good law library was housed. And of course this was all before the Internet. I also began to serve papers, and that was the most fun. I had to learn how to tail people, how to figure out their moves, and it was easy because no one suspected a skinny kid of 18. My best trick was serving someone while they were at the grocery store. I also had the added benefit of being able to run like hell. I became so good at this, that I started doing it for quite a few lawyers, and I made quite a bit of money at it.
Along the way, I was constantly having to learn many other things that required an enormous amount of concentration as well as stamina. I was constantly confronting terrifying situations, and it was very tiring at times even for a kid. But not once in all the years I had been working did I think of it as drudgery. I did what I was asked and got to do things that most people will never do let alone kids doing them. It wasn’t until college friends began to learn how I had grown up and gave criticism of it that I became ashamed of my childhood or lack of one (that most people in America are accustomed to having). By the time I graduated from college, I was bitter about having been denied what so many others had, and I held onto two thoughts. I was going to bust my ass and make a lot of money so I could retire early and do what I damn well pleased, and I was in no rush to have children.
So many times in my life I’ve looked back on my childhood with mixed feelings. I’ve run the gamut of thinking I was abused to feeling I was blessed by parents who thought way outside the box. A few things had to happen before I came to peace with it.
I achieved those two goals. I was 30 (which I don’t consider old but some people do) when I began to have children, and SO and I did retire early. We were 39. We moved to a beautiful place in the boonies and had almost 12 years of bliss where we got to be with our kids, who had been 5, 7 and 9 years old at the time we dropped out. We even had another kid! And it was wonderful in hindsight even if I didn’t always think it was at the time.
But the idyll started to crumble when SO had a heart attack, our health insurance was cancelled, and he was diagnosed with severe kidney damage and needed a transplant. I’m not going to rehash all of that as you can read the posts about it here. Suffice to say at the ripe old age of 51, we were having to start over (for the third time) and SO was somewhat incapacitated and couldn’t really start over. I knew it meant I had to go back to work. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but I was willing. Very willing. Two years after continually trying to get a job and not being successful, I became pretty depressed about it.
Finally, one day I prayed about it. I had not done that in earnest when I first started to seek employment. I had asked people to pray for me. Any prayers I offered had just been rote as I just fell back on my own abilities. I did try to learn how to get a job during that two years and not just continue to try old methods, and this really frustrated me as I came to realize it had a lot to do with my age and only a miracle would change that.
A few days after I prayed, SO said, “I don’t know why you’re trying to go to work for someone. You haven’t worked for anyone in 20 years, and if you’re hired and then have to take off repeatedly because of my situation, or I have to go in for a transplant and you’re gone for quite awhile, you would hate doing that to someone who had recently hired you and there’s a good chance you wouldn’t keep the job.” He was right, and then another thought occurred to me. I’m convinced it was that small, still voice of God that’s so powerful and perfect, “The answer is right in front of you. Hire yourself.” I started laughing when I heard that. The rightness of it was so resounding that I’ve been laughing ever since.
That was about two years ago, and now I have the job I love, and I’m enjoying working in a way I never did before. Every day is fresh, and I often feel like a kid approaching new subjects but with hopefully more wisdom. And sometimes I think back to what happened when I was a child and how very hard some things were to live through, and it makes me choked because God redeemed my childhood — the one I was longing so much to relive.
note: I think I may put the ‘Richard Armitage’ tag on this. He and I do share a work history that started fairly young (although 17, or 18 in some accounts, is not really that young to me). A thin pretext for tagging it? Probably, but I really don’t care. :D
#12 Todd Garner
It’s 12 days until Thanksgiving in the U.S., and I have so much to be thankful for that I can’t get it into one post. I’m starting today with yep, you guessed it, the first of 12 posts. And please note these are not necessarily in order of importance.
Todd Garner. I think it’s obvious why I’m thankful for Todd Garner. But what some of you don’t know is he loves to laugh. That immediately made me really like him because I love to laugh too — even when it may not be appropriate.
Things falling down around your ears? Life not going the way you had planned — at all? It’s just kicking your ass? Start laughing and things will look better immediately. Yeah, we’ve all heard that, but how many of us practice it?
As my life goes on, I’m practicing more and more, and I get the sense Todd Garner practices regularly too. My memory of talking to him is our conversation began with laughter and there was more as we went. Oh yeah, sure it passed through my mind that he may have been amused at talking to a crazy fan, and well, he was talking to a crazy fan. But it was more than that. He seems happy. Whenever I see his tweets, I always think of him with a grin on his face, and it makes me grin. And that was even before he changed his avatar to a smile.
So where does all that smiling and laughing leave Into the Storm? Will it be a comedy? I don’t think so, but there may be a little bit of snark. Not enough to make it a comedy, but if Jon Swetnam is any indication, it’s hard to think a little snark won’t be present. Some of you may have noticed I do like my snark, so I can handle it. : D
And before anyone begins to think Garner has no traffic with a serious piece, one of the movies where he served as a producer is an excellent serious piece and a favorite of mine — Radio with Ed Harris and Cuba Gooding Jr. For those who haven’t seen it, I encourage you to watch it. And for those in other countries who want to be more conversant in American culture, it’s a real slice of what life can be like here. A definite must see.
Will Into the Storm be like that? Not entirely although tornadoes are a way of life in some parts of America and taken very seriously. If you had to replace your roof regularly and came home after a tornado to see that your house was standing and your next door neighbor’s was not, you would take it seriously. Plus, the damn things are unpredictable. Tornadoes do their own thing. Even weather watchers who study them will tell you they are only predictable to a point and then, all bets are off. Given that, Into the Storm will be a bit of a thrill ride and especially considering one version of it will be in 3D.
For now the ride is the build up to the movie. It’s fun, and I know many of you are getting a kick out of it as well.
Todd,
Thanks for making the waiting for this movie enjoyable. I’m having a blast.
And I hope you realize the import of myself and others being fangirls. That’s what we do, and now you are in our sights. ;-)
Oh, and a picture would be nice. : D
Sincerely
One of Richard’s crazy fansP.S. Love the avatar. It’s perfect.
note: this has the fake fan letter tag, but I’m sincere.
And Now for Something Legal?
Hopefully an example of what is okay to copy and alter with respect to protected images. Proving that humor almost always works.
Richard Armitage with Cats:
John Thornton (I’m so glad you were willing to take Mother’s place in monitoring the mill; remember no cigarettes) with a cat.
Thorin (I’m usually a blowhard, but I’m really trying to be pleasant even though I’m wondering what in the hell you’re looking at, cat, ’cause you’re not looking at the same thing I’m looking at) with a cat.
Guy (I’m never going to tell you everything I’m thinking but I do dig that waitress in the corner and that’s why I have this shit eating grin on my face) with a cat.
Lucas North (Yes! I’m angsty even if you two don’t understand it! And then one cat says to the other, “He’s right I don’t get it. How can he look like that after eight years of torture in a Russian prison,” and the other cat replies, “I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m going to keep staring at him.”) with a cat, er, two cats.
Mr. Rogers (My mother did make the sweater. It’s 33 years old, in mint condition, and at least cats like it) with three cats.
My favorite. Paul (It was really a cat on my head, okay? It was a cat.) with a cat.
I would have had this piece done sooner, but every time I looked at this last one, I got sick laughing. Doesn’t matter that I’ve seen this thing about a 100 times.
Thank you, thank you whoever started Richard Armitage with Cats. I hope the latest scare about images in the RA fandom doesn’t have you bothered, and it certainly shouldn’t since you squarely fall into parody.
When God Gives You a Kiss
This post is in no way meant to be sacrilegious, but honestly, some things work out so perfectly, you just know God was involved in it.
TheQueen was planning to visit her friend in upstate New York this week, when she learned of the Twitter contest for tickets to the fan event. Almost literally on the way out the door to catch her plane, she tweeted why she wanted to go to the fan event, and when she was in the midst of traveling, she received an email informing her she had won. Not only had she won but won very special guest passes. At least that’s what it sounded like to me when she described it. No waiting in line for her and the friend because she gets to go right in and meet with Warner Bros. PR. So if you see two ladies getting there late but moving right on in the door, don’t throw anything at them. They can’t help it that they’re VIPs. ;-)
And it could not have happened to nicer people. TheQueen and her friend, Heartfelt4-1, who some of you may recognize as a prominent fan fiction writer in the fandom, will be elegant and cool headed and just generally teach the proper decorum when seeing Richard in person. Other than that, I hope they go nuts and take lots of photos!!
And He’s Good Looking Too
James Blunt is who I mean
On Twitter with quips so keen
To those watching he leaves no doubt
In exquisite style he puts his detractors to rout
But never so low as to demean (Thank you, James)
Just a few comebacks from the “most hated man in pop”:
Easy spelling mistake as K and L are right beside each other. RT @lizziea1: I want to kick James Blunt… repeatedly… I dont know why
— James Blunt (@JamesBlunt) October 24, 2013
I'm sorry, but you'll have to get to the back of the queue. RT @Alif_novaldi: Fuck you james blunt
— James Blunt (@JamesBlunt) October 8, 2013
Damn thing's always getting caught under my feet. RT @laurenlyall: Why does James Blunt sing like his willy is being stood on?
— James Blunt (@JamesBlunt) October 16, 2013
More here.
James,
I knew you were talented when I listened to Give Me Some Love. Phew. What a song. There are others I love as well, but that’s not the point of this letter.
There is nothing sexier than a guy who is smart. Just don’t ever spoil it by revealing you don’t man your account alone. No, I’m not implying you have help, but if you do, I don’t want to hear about it!
Keep it up, and I’ll see you on the Twitter timeline.
Sincerely,
A crazy fan of some guy named Richard Armitage and you of course.P.S. Certainly I meant it when I said you’re good looking, but then you don’t need someone like me to tell you that. :D
For the Armitage fans, one of the best fan videos around, and if James Blunt (or his people; thinking of Warner Bros. mostly) were to come over here and look at this post, which I doubt but I’m covering my ass anyway, we need to make it clear that we (yes, I’m speaking for all or most of you) incessantly buy the music of these videos we love. *and the crowd all nodded in unison*
James’ new album Moon Landing comes out Tuesday in the U.S
Damn That Richard Armitage
Of course I don’t mean that the way it sounds, but sometimes I do. I’m actually thinking of going to New York. In my defense, I have a frequent flyer that I’m going to lose if I don’t use it, and I have two places I can stay. No, make that three, and I have an old friend who owes me an expensive dinner (maybe three or four cheap dinners instead?), and last but not least my two very compelling reasons are there. So yeah, I think that sounds good. Maybe. Still not sure about that.
As if that’s not enough, I recently bought another copy of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. It was the hard copy of the Extended Edition. That makes four different formats I will own. Not kidding when I say that I have never bought four copies of a movie. Wait. That’s a lie. I’ve bought six copies of a movie. Want to guess which one? Yeah, I didn’t think you would have trouble with that. But I must say that three of those were gifts. Wait. No, I’ve actually bought more than six. I bought, dare I say it? I’m not sure that I can. This is tough to write as it really does make me a nut! But I’ll confess to having bought almost 20 copies of North and South.
I feel like an utter idiot if I really step back and think about that. Again, in my defense, I found a really good sale. Then I decided to send several copies to a list of folk I do not know along with letters that were hopefully humorous but sans the fruitcake. We’ll see how that turns out. ;-)
I told the addressees that Richard is something else and not to be put off by the pitiful looking photo on the DVD jacket, and I slipped in a secret weapon to ensure they knew I wasn’t exaggerating.
And if they don’t agree that it’s a secret weapon, then Richard’s not for them anyway. :D
note: if you want more scenes like those, then go buy The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Extended Edition on iTunes. You may have to wait a freaking day to download it, but hey, it’s worth it. I even took down my firewall for this one.
Richard,
See what you can even manage to leverage out of a cheap skate?
Signed,
Oh never mind, you already know I’m crazy
RAFrenzy 