Tintin Looks Interesting

I’m contemplating seeing this movie. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a movie theater, and it would be nice to get out of the house. SO was talking about taking our eleven year old to see it, and my extreme eagerness was duly noted with a look askance that said, “What is going on?” My look back, “Nothing. I just thought _________ might love this movie, and it is the holiday season. Maybe we can go on opening night?”

I refuse to believe Richard Armitage is corrupting my reputation. What is it to me that I’ve watched the cheesy Robin Hood, then more cheesy Captain America, and now… But I’m doing it so my kid will have some entertainment, and I’m sure she would love the trailers:

Promo courtesy of TheOneRing.Net

Snark-a-RAma

I really needed to make this post considering WordPress now has snow on their home page. There’s something about it which makes me feel like a whip is being cracked behind me. Maybe I watched too many Budweiser commercials as a kid. Or is it just me who thinks about Clydesdales when it snows? Of course I had to Google that. Who needs to spend money for entertainment when you can just run odd searches on Google? I was looking for an image to go with the Budweiser crack and found this picture of a fairly newborn kid. Yeah, go ahead and check it out, and then read the whole blog piece. Maybe they don’t care if their newborn’s picture comes up in the midst of a bunch of mammoth sized horses, some suggestively clad women, some weirdness, and the dalmatian. Can’t forget him. And I almost forgot the clocks. I was fascinated with the clocks when I was little. The thought that the horses might break free was always a question. So what does all of this have to do with Richard Armitage? Not much except that I felt it might be “enlightening” for you to be in on how I go into snark mode. You thought I just turned that on and off at a whim? Oh hell, no. I have to descend into it, and Google is immensely helpful for facilitating. Okay, I’m down there now; we can start talking about fangirling again.

Now the segue to dear ol’ RA. For that I needed to visit Tumblr. Tumblr scares you more than Twitter?! You’re taking it all too seriously. It’s not serious. No, I’m serious; it is not serious. You saw a Tumblr that was serious? That must be one of the five that are. The rest are full of shit.* Oh, you need proof it’s not serious? I’ve got plenty, and I’m not sure which of these was first. Does it matter? Of course not. Just sit back and let it roll over you. Don’t think; just feel. That’s the point of Tumblr — no thinking (almost no thinking); just feeling.

click the images for the fun:

and of course this one:

Wait. Maybe this is serious.

By the way, I disagree with this confession. It’s fine to obsess over one character. Further thought: who died and made this person the fandom czar? LOL!

*euphemism for playing around ;-)

Stuck on You

Dear Richard,

If you ever stumble on this place and take a good look around, it will become clear I had significant time gaps between some of my posts. Maybe I should say real life intruded, and in fact it did. But psssst, sometimes I just tried to leave you. Obviously, I always came back, and here I am again today.

I’ve finally waded through some things that were holding me back, and now those are receding quickly, so hang on!

Yours Truly,
Frenz (aka Masha :D)

P.S. If I ever stalked you, I wouldn’t be in an ugly green car, but I would love that red dress.

note: I started to call this post “I Can’t Quit You,” but even I’m not that cheesy.

Need a Richard picture to get myself back in the mood big time:

This post’s for you, Sheepa. Thanks for the great laugh.

edit:

If you have not watched this video, do it now! It gets better and better.

Twitter, the Pithy Maker

March 4, 2011

It’s amazing what Richard Armitage has prompted me to do. Well, he and some others.

I’ve been neglecting my blog lately but not really. Been doing something that will just make this blog better (picture me with a type of grin that even I’m not crude earthy enough to describe here). Of course I’ve been hanging out on Twitter, which harvested all sorts of guilt from me when I first started. But I think I’m almost over that; however, not quite or this post probably wouldn’t exist (yes, I have a sentence with but and however). What’s great is that I can rationalize anything if I want — can’t we all?

Seriously, the limitation of 140 characters on Twitter is helping me cut out the fat, and with someone like me who too often feels compelled to explain every cussed move I’m making, this is a good thing. You don’t want to read all of that, and I don’t either, and on Twitter, you can’t. Well, you can with Twitlonger and some other services. I just feel like I’ve failed when I have to go to Twitlonger, and really I feel my eyes start to shutter when I begin to read explanations that go on and on and well, aren’t funny and surely aren’t uh, pithy. But the best part of this pithy machine, aka Twitter, is that I now have a great explanation for SO (whose middle name is Pith) as to why I like to spend time there. Thankfully, he has noticed it in my writing, and now I can say, “See, see, this is a good thing.”

Recently though I will admit I’ve been like all the other dreaded onlookers on Twitter who are observing the destruction of Charlie Sheen. The guy set a Guiness Record for the quickest amassing of one million plus followers, and I know his secret. It’s not that he’s a famous wreck; there have been other famous wrecks on Twitter who didn’t get his kind of attention. It’s that on his way to hell, he’s pithy, and that naturally makes for a sensation on Twitter. Very sad but true. Not being funny here. More about Charlie later in another tangent. Yes, I get on a roll with these things, and it’s hard to stop. Anyone who has enough opinions for at least four people cannot help but get on tangents, and really, I would explode if I didn’t, so it’s a good thing. :D Need to slap myself for explaining that, but hey, I’m trying to fill out this paragraph so it’s more than a few sentences. If I wrote better, then I could write only three sentences, and you would be so wowed you wouldn’t care that it’s a short paragraph. See why I need to cut out the fat?

Where was I?

Yeah, Twitter is great for making me think about what I’m actually communicating, and I’ve had to take some risks in running something out there even if it wasn’t quite clear to the recipient. But I have a caution on that, which most thinking people will already know, but hey, I’m a thinking person, and I got carried away on Twitter, and you can too. So take note. I’m going to blame the cold medicine for my mistake, but really, if I’m honest, I had a shabby moment. So here’s the caution: if you’re going to be pithy and say something really sarcastic (key word is really), do it with someone who already knows you and gets your humor. I made the mistake of doing it with someone who didn’t know squat about me, and I got blocked. Yes, I was blocked by someone. I didn’t know it until a couple of weeks later, but man, it stung, and the worst part of it is that the person probably thought I was serious. Sadly, when you’re blocked, you can’t contact the person. I even thought about contacting them through another id to apologize, but that smacks too much of stalking. So I didn’t. I’m now chalking this up as a pitfall of getting up to speed on Twitter. See how easy it is to rationalize?

And now that Twitter almost has me at fighting weight on the pith, I may run a few laps to get ready for the big leagues on Tumblr.

Dropping some of the mask:

I can hear the wheels turning in the heads of some of you who are probably around my age. You have this notion that Twitter lowers your ability to be articulate because it just appears to be a lot of gibberish. I’m sure it can facilitate some gibberish. Ohmygosh, can it facilitate gibberish! But I don’t believe it does arbitrarily. It’s just a tool and up to each of us how we may use it. I’m choosing to experiment with it, and no, it’s not all as RAFrenzy. And you may ask why am I really messing about on Twitter? To make this the greatest blog since napkins were created? Or to simply deal with idle time? Maybe to be cute? LOL! I do think it will help this blog, but honestly, I have very little idle time and lost all hope of being cute years ago. Not being funny again. I have almost no idle time in my life, and I don’t want any. What I’m doing is learning the language of the future. Scratch that. It’s not the language of the future; it’s already here. It is the language my kids understand, and I want to understand it as well. Oh, I make them speak my language too, but it’s only fair that I learn how their generation communicates. That is enough to compel me to get in the flow of this.

edit: I guess WordPress hiccuped on me. This above is now my final post, but what posted before was not. Arrgh! That kind of stuff drives me nuts.

Tangent — The New Year’s Thang

January 3, 2011

[Note: For those new to this blog, my tangents usually have little or nothing to do with Richard Armitage. For the fans: I do like to post pictures of RA as often as I can, so maybe there will be one at the end. And for all of you: be sure to read the post script at the very end if your stamina holds out.]

I have this quirk in my nature which always wants to buck the system when I have even the slightest sense the system is all about form and not really about any meaningful function. The first time this obstinance manifested was in the first grade. One Friday the teacher asked me to go to the blackboard to write something so I could learn along with the others, and I said, “I don’t have to go to the blackboard.” She arched a brow and looked over her glasses at me, and said, “What do you mean?” I replied, “It’s Friday, and my mother says I don’t have to go to the blackboard on Fridays.” I was quickly reprimanded and taken to the hallway where she grabbed my chin and with her other hand, dug her fingernail into the top of my head while she told me how much trouble I was in. The following week she requested a conference with my parents (I still hate that word conference), and I got my backside blistered by dad when he got home from that meeting. I also got a lecture about how it was wrong to co-opt the idea from our Catholic neighbors who didn’t eat meat on Fridays. All I knew is there was no need for me to go to the board. I already knew what the teacher was talking about.

None of this is to say that I’m generally obstinate. I just don’t like doing things expected of me which don’t appear to have any benefit, to anyone. Yeah, it sounds arrogant and selfish, but how many of us hate doing things that are a waste but we do them anyway? C’mon, I know some of you do things like this, but you do them only because someone, somewhere expects it. And you hate it. We’ve all done it. But as I get older, I find I’m going back to my six year old self. I don’t want to squander time on things that really don’t count no matter how good they might make me look. So where am I going with this? Well, I felt a little bit of a pull to do the requisite New Year’s write-up/recap thang on the blog, and I was not excited about that at all. So I didn’t do one. I’m simply enjoying the wonderful pieces done by others.

But you’re not getting off the hook before I wax on about my objection to New Year’s resolutions, and yes, I know I’m not the first one to say this nor will I be the last. But people like me need to keep saying it until a few of you get it. New Year’s resolutions for most of us are a waste of time. I mean who keeps those things — if you even remember them after a couple of months? I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who kept a New Year’s resolution. No, that’s not true. I have known one person who did, and she talked about it incessantly, which was the result of being shocked that she kept it. But most and probably darn near all people don’t keep them. Or maybe I just run with a slothful crowd.

Obviously, I think my crowd is in the majority, which compels me to talk to you about something that is so unnecessary and usually just leads to guilt. Yep, it’s a setup for failure. I don’t know about any of you, but I don’t need any help with feeling like a failure, and several years ago I resolved to stop making resolutions because of that feeling. There are so many deadlines to meet in life, and I don’t need to create another one for myself especially when it only facilitates self-flagellation. Of course there is that minority who keeps resolutions, and if you are one of those people, and it makes you feel good, I’m sincerely happy for you. My lazy self will continue to refrain.

Yet I completely understand the need to make New Year’s resolutions, the need to wipe the slate clean and start over, the need to have another chance at making something right or attaining something we long for. That need is so great among us, that when a year comes to an end and a new ones starts, and we’re quite naturally taking stock of our lives, it seems fitting to cobble together something that sounds important for us to do, something that sounds like a great destiny. But I submit to you that you don’t have to start on January 1, and that may be the worst date to do it for some of us. So make up your own day for starting over, and hey, it really can be every morning. Frankly, if I didn’t start over at least once a week and sometimes daily, I would never want to talk to anyone or leave my house, and I’ve been there before. Not fun. So it’s Monday after the holiday, and the day didn’t get started all that well. I may need to start the year over on the 4th.

End of sermonette.

A picture of Richard Armitage as sort of promised. (Scroll beyond it for Post Script).

Yeah, I know you understand what I’m sayin’, Rich.

Screencap courtesy of my stash.

Post script: My mother just reminded me the first time my obstinate nature clashed with a teacher was actually in kindergarten. The class was learning to print their names. My name ends in an ‘A’, and I’ve always hated the look of a lower case ‘a’, and when it was on the end of my name, it didn’t look finished. So when I printed my name, I ended it with a small sized capital ‘A’, and I still print it that way today. (Yes, I know it’s harder to write.). When the teacher came by to check my work, she said, “No, honey, you must write it like this — ‘a’.” I just nodded and kept writing it with a capital ‘A’. The teacher got so flustered she screamed at me and ripped my paper into several pieces. Then she gave me another paper, but I still proceeded to write with an ‘A’ on the end of my name. She finally called my mother, who met with her that afternoon. The teacher told her I was developmentally delayed (or whatever pc language teachers used back then to say a kid was slow mentally). Mother was devastated and went home in tears. When my dad came home from work, he quizzed her about her upset, and she told him what the teacher had said and how she wasn’t sure what to think. To which good ol’ dad said, “Oh, that’s horseshit. The kid can write in cursive for cryin’ out loud.”

I Keep Forgetting

I keep forgetting that all of you who read this blog are not part of the rabid fans like I am. Oh, I know some of you are exactly like I am and could write this blog — meaning you could keep it supplied with the information over which so many salivate. Case in point is Richard Armitage leaving the Old Vic. I’ve long since looked at the YT clip of him leaving the theater after the plays. I figured anyone who read this blog had already looked at it too. But I was wrong. I’ve had emails and Facebook messages asking me about any word on footage or pictures of him at the theater, so here it is:

I love the YT user’s name, smartandcleverlass. Yes, she is, and I appreciate her grabbing this candid shot for all of us to drool over. But as I started to drool, I have to confess I had some hesitation. I began to feel sorry for RA, and the crap he must go through. His acting is wonderful, and I’ve already said I would love to see him on stage. That would be the ultimate experience of his acting for me. But I really can’t see myself following him out the door to take a shot of him with my phone. Maybe I sound like a hypocrite and one day may prove myself a liar, but I know my gut would be screaming: NO, DON’T DO IT! leave the guy be. Or perhaps I’m just a coward.

But enough of my conscience rearing its ugly head. Oh hell, I would just like a chance to find out if I would have a conscience. It would be a dream to go to one of his performances, but ever lurking at the back of my mind is this question: would I wait at the stage door to see RA afterward? I honestly don’t know. As I think about it now, I would feel like a fool doing that. No, I wasn’t kidding when I said I have too much pride to posture as a fangurl in public. I just can’t see it, but then I might let myself get caught up in the hysteria and do it anyway. Man, I am a coward.

I was talking with a fellow Armitage lover this evening, and she asked if I would go to the stage door if she dragged me there, and I said, “Of course, ’cause then I could blame it on you.” :D

Sometimes I wonder if I should have named this blog ‘The Reluctant Fan.’ That really is the best description of me, but I think that domain name was taken. All I know is I have fought this from the beginning and still fight it. I mentally slap myself about once a week. So my post about still stopping is describing a frequent occurrence. Maybe I shouldn’t write this post, but I must do it to at least fool myself into thinking I’m still sane. Momma didn’t raise a fool, so I’m trying to make her proud, but then Momma would go to the stage door. LOL! Maybe I should stop fighting my genes? Either that or take up drink. No, that will never happen. I’ve been too up close and personal with alcoholics, and that, my friends is about as revealing as I’m going to be on this blog.

Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com

Sometimes I Still Stop

And ask myself what am I doing?! I’ve now written almost 300 posts and published over 170. And most of that is about someone I don’t know and never will. Yes, I feel like a fool sometimes, but what alleviates my conscience is that I’m having such a good time writing. Oh, I know this blog is more than half bullshit, but it’s kept my hand in the writing, and I really do spend time writing other things, which has me asking another question even more frequently: why, why, why was I not writing sooner? Some of the answer is in my diary entries, but I’m not going to tell you everything because I do have to protect the guilty, and, I’m afraid the other stuff would bore the socks off of you.

Or maybe that’s me projecting on you how I feel. I can get bored very quickly, and it’s shocking that I’m still with this blog. I figured this was going to be a one note song — this talking about Richard Armitage all the time, but I never knew something seemingly one-dimensional could be this much fun. NO! I don’t mean Richard Armitage. Apparently he’s not one-dimensional or he wouldn’t have attracted so many interesting fans. Did I just compliment myself as well as all of you? Yeah, I think I did. Whatever, this is fun and you all are fun, and I thank you for giving me so much pleasure. Oh, and thanks to RA too. :D

I need a picture badly.

I honestly don’t know where this picture came from, but it’s too good not to use. I realize it came from the Children in Need clips; just not sure who made it. Whatever, looking at that makes it clear why I keep blogging. Of course, it’s not just how he looks, but that doesn’t hurt. Phew, that stance definitely demands a cold bucket of water on our collective heads. And if People Magazine doesn’t get with it in the next year or two, I may never read that rag again.

At least others get it.

Picture courtesy of Karima. Thank you, Karima! :D