Green Screening

Obsessed is a strong word, but apt, I feel, in relation to my love of Angels and Demons. Mostly because its set in Rome admittedly, but still. Watching it again this evening, I realised I'd never watched the Special Features. And now I kind of wish I hadn't. Theoretically, I knew that it wasn't really all shot on location - you're not allowed to talk in the Sistine Chapel, let alone take a whole film crew in there - but a little part of me had always stayed lost in the magic of the film. Until I saw the amount of green screen used. Obviously its a lot, but to me, a little of the magic, a little of the mystery went seeing how small the sets were - the St Peters set is mostly plywood. The Sistine Chapel ceiling...screen. The faithful crowds in St Peters Square...CGI.

Don't get me wrong - its still one of my all time favourite films, but I'll watch it in a different way now - the geek in me will be looking for CGI; for objects that are clearly filmed against a green screen; for continuity errors. That got me thinking - how often in life do we do that? How much of your life is a green screen? Reality projected against something blank. Truth, but not quite. Fooling people, but really deep down, knowing that they know that its not real.

A little of the magic has gone.

Love, etc.
xx

Culture Clash

Now, call me old-fashioned (and believe me, that has been known) but I'm about to get on my soapbox about the state of popular culture. Really. Me. Yes.

I have to admit that I'm normally one of the first to ignore the warnings of pastors and elders about the influences of the secular world on Christians, and its not really something I've ever had that much of a problem with. I drink alcohol, but not to excess, and feel no pressure from any part to do so. I listen to the radio and watch tv, and freely skip channels if I don't like what's on (whether for moral reasons or simply because its painful to listen to) I sometimes wear short skirts and heels like the rest of the population, and feel no shame in wearing them. Essentially, I make my own decisions for what I allow myself to be exposed to. Some people would say I'm too liberal; others would (and have) laugh at how strict I am about some things, but for me, I know I'm making the right choices.

Imagine then my shock (at myself!) when I found I was disgusted by Taylor "Love Story" Swift's new song, You Belong To Me. I'm a girl - we're all entranced by the idea that Romeo is going to kneel to the ground and pull out a ring and propose. That's a dream for princesses everywhere, and I have to admit, I've never felt a need to turn the radio off when the kids have been around, even the oler ones who are starting to pick up on songs they like and who wrote them. THAT is where has scared me - that the girls I look after could listen to Love Story and think how great it is and then want to hear more, and coming across songs that sing about how she thinks that the boy she likes shouldn't be with his girlfriend and lists the reasons (!) That is not a healthy thing to let girls think is acceptible and for the first time, I can see why parents are often so guarded about what they let their children see/hear/have until they are old enough to know what is good and what isn't. And strangely, it lasts.

"You'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable,
authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the
ugly; things to praise, not things to curse"
Phillippians 4v8 (The Message)

Love, etc.
xx

Words

23.57, 31st December 2008. A text message that changed my world. And then a day of absolute silence that almost destroyed his while I panicked about starting a SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP. Said silence and panic led to an FB status of "[Beautiful Intellectual] has a lot to think about" which prompted another txt along the lines of "whatever you're thinking about, you know where I am if you need me" And I fell in love.

A few days later, I was telling the most important person in my life (outside immediate family) about it, starting the conversation with the phrase "[The Drummer] is going to ask me out, and I'm going to say yes" which normally would have had her bouncing around the room squealing if it had been any other of her friends, let alone me. I was met with her opinion that it was a mistake and he wasn't who God had lined up for me; a brick wall rather than the shared excitement I was expecting.

Its taken this long, almost ten months, to get over that. To get over that hurt. To get over the loss of my best friend. To get over the rejection of my boyfriend. Recently, I've spent a lot of time realising I'm preparing to do all the big stuff of my life without her beside me, and I'm honestly not sure how that leaves me feeling.

"It’s amazing, some people, they just say these small little things, one sentence and it

changes the way you feel about them in an instant. Small little words that can hurt you

so much or make you fall deeply in love forever. It changes everything, nothing between
you is ever really the same again, even if they don't know it"

Just be careful what you do with your words.

Love, etc.
xx

Smells like home

On the train this morning I had the strongest deja vu I've had in a very long time. I was sitting listening to my music watching the world go by when I realised I was suddenly feeling really safe and comfortable and couldn't work out why. It took me a while to realise that I recognised the aftershave of the guy who had just sat down behind me, and slightly longer again to realise it wasn't the same one The Drummer wears. It took about another 5 minutes pondering, scooting through my mind all the different guys I knew and hugged regularly (that sounds worse than it is...) and couldn't for the life of me work out where I knew it from. It wasn't until Black And Gold came on my MP3 much later on that I realised it was the same aftershave the Landlord of Dreams (who, with his wife, housed me for free for a term before Christmas last year where I had nowhere to live and no money for rent) Their home became mine, and that smell became home because of the welcome and love and acceptance I had there.

Smells are strangely evocative things - fresh grass equalling the summer, even if its still only March. The precious talc-y baby smell left on your clothes after cuddling the kids. The smell of The Drummer's parents house meaning total relaxation and peace. Smells always mean something; they always come with memories.

Home has many smells these days - The Drummer's aftershave, my parents house when I get home after being away, St Johns when you're the first one in on a Saturday. Each and every one has its memory; each one is home to me.

Love, etc.
xx

Relationships

"Good relationships balance over time. This means that at any particular point in time,
the relationship may appear quite unbalanced: One partner may be more nurturing;
one may be more needy; one may be providing all the financial support, etc. But if both
partners are loving, understanding, giving, dedicated and flexible, then the relationship
can handle all kinds of ups and downs, and still be strong, exciting and, yes, romantic.
The best relationships are well balanced. Not a delicate balance; not a static
balance- but a dynamic ever-changing balance"
Gregory Godek

I found this quote earlier this evening and realised it summed up everything I've been trying to show myself recently - everything will balance over time. Yes, right now, it feels like my relationship with The Drummer is unfair on him - I'm needy right now & he's a rock, I'm broke right now and he has a steady job etc, but its true that our relationship is going to emerge from this, probably even stronger than before. I love the fact that although they're nearly always in the same place with the same people around and a lot of the same stuff to do, every weekend we spend together is different; every weekend highlights a new experience for us as a couple; every weekend brings us closer together.

Balance is necessary - a relationship doesn't succeed without equality. I'm not his Spare Rib for nothing.

Love, etc.
xx

Pointless or, Pity Party for One?

Do you ever look at your life and wonder why on earth you are where you are? Do you ever just sit back and think "what on earth am I actually here for?" I am aware at this point that it sounds like I could do with a good dose of The Purpose Driven Life, but I did that last time I was terminally unemployed, and given that that was only such a short time ago, I'm not convinced its been long enough to make a difference again. Today is most definitely *not* a Pollyanna day.

The only thing stopping this pity party for one is the knowledge in the back of my mind that, however pointless I feel that there must be a purpose for me somewhere. Right now, I can't see it. I have no idea why my patience is being tested in so many different ways. I have no idea what I'm meant to be learning. I have no idea why things are being given with one hand and taken away with the next leaving me splitting my life between 2 counties, not fitting in in either, with no money to speak of to my name.

I have no answers. And to be honest, I'm surprised I found this many words.

Love, etc.
xx

p.s. I may have been overstating when I said the pity party was being held at bay. Clearly it is not.
xx

Grace, or That's Called Growing Up Kiddo

I am not by nature the world's most gracious person. Actually, let me rephrase that. I'm an incredibly gracious person unless I feel threatened, then I get all loud and proud and kinda forget the "by their works you shall know them" bit, and the whole "whatever is true...noble (&) right" thing and just get a bit, well, nasty.

I've made reference to The Drummer's Ex before I think, but BOY has that become a situation recently where I need to be gracious. The Drummer calls it "gracious in victory" but over the last couple of days, I think just "gracious" would do. I have in my life something a lot of girls would kill (or at least seriously maim) for - a dependable, solid guy who utterly adores me and goes out of his way to protect and look after me. And he's mine. And he's not going anywhere. So why do I let myself turn into such a diva when she calls him (or floats onto our radar in any small way) Why do I act like a brat and make a difficult situation worse? Why can I not just look at my life and realise I have more than enough to share a little grace with others?

Its all well and good being gracious when life is easy, but that's not entirely the point of grace. Having a tantrum is easy. Being gracious is not. Realising what I have, both on earth and in my God, made me realise in turn that I should have no option.

Being gracious isn't a choice, it should be the norm. But MAN is that hard.

Love, etc.
xx