The Dendy on George Street in BrisVegas is closing down. Yes after years of being the rare shining beacon of independent and foreign films in the cultural vacuum that is Brisbane they are closing their doors. So tonight instead of being led down the garden path of American traditional candy grabbing myself and Yale went to the Dendy for a special Halloween double feature showing of ‘The Exorcist‘ and ‘Carrie‘.
I had to check as I couldnt remember the release date of the Exorcist, but it was apparently filmed in 1973 and I’m pretty sure I would have seen it in about 1986-87 and vaguely remember being alarmed and shocked by some of the concepts in the movie which was probably not difficult given that I was a good little Catholic schoolgirl at the time (can you see the cha-ching on my halo?) The Rotten Tomatoes guys seem to think that "The Exorcist has withstood the test of time, and it still has that renegade feel and the power to shock." but I think they’re way off base on that one judging by the audience’s reaction to most of the film. There was more laughter at the pea soup and bone crunching neck swivelling than any other reaction and I don’t personally recall any noticable sensations of foreboding, suspense, impending doom, fear or even drama for that matter. It was all a bit ho-hum really.
I think we’ve become a bit immune. The effects look quaint and old fashioned, the foul language is no worse than any number of teen flicks these days (a la American Pie genre) and the violence looked like a kindergarden spat compared to something you might see at the cinema or even on TV these days. So old and jaded are we.
Unfortunately I had to pike on ‘Carrie’ my back just wasn’t up to sitting still through a second movie in those ancient cinema seats, so I’ll have to make it up to Yaleman by finding a copy of it to inflict on him. Might try and find The Shining while I’m at it ….. Jack Nicholson – now there’s a scary dude I don’t care what decade it is 🙂
MD was in town for work this week and has bought his lovely wife and new baby with him, so naturally we had to get together for dinner….any chance to get the original Dinner Monkey to the table I say. On their arrival I was almost immediately offered a cuddle with the new baby. MDJr is a totally gorgeous baby – calm and happy, such a beautiful little guy. There’s something about newborns that give off the appearance of absolute perfection. I felt a little apprehensive and wasn’t sure I wanted to hold him… babies seem to leave me off balance now more often than not and I guess the defense mechanism against this has seen me taking to avoiding babies altogether over the last few years. Mostly this is because it dredges up so many shitty emotions about infertility, IVF and miscarriages… grief, pain, frustraton, feelings of failure and worst of all – jealousy.
I try really hard to push it all down but it keeps rearing it’s ugly head whether I like it or not. For quite a while when i returned to IVF to attempt to have a second child many of my friends (six of them to be precise) including my sister BigSal were starting their families. As each one of them fell pregnant I was genuinely happy for them as I was confident (hrumph… delusional) that I too would be pregnant soon. But as time wore on and more and more IVF procedures failed and their pregnancies turned into fat happy babies and I was still unable to conceive it got harder and harder to be happy for my friends. Then one of my friends, Diamond Des was first, announced she was having a second child… and Goddess Bek announced the imminent arrival of her second… and then BigSal, BurnieSnail and HH all seemed to follow suit. Before I knew it all six of them had delivered their second fat happy babies and I was still on the IVF rollercoaster trying to conceive four odd years (and more thousands of dollars than I care to tally) later.
And that’s right about when my ability to fein happiness for my friends totally deserted me and quickly on it’s heels the socially unacceptable bitter jealousy started to emerge. I spent a lot of time thinking on useless questions wondering why it’s so easy for everyone else. My IVF specialist was totally perplexed and told me that my case was keeping him awake at night. I had unbelievably emotional reactions to reading or hear stories of total strangers mistreating their infants… so much so that I stopped watching local news.
Within the year after that two other friends fell pregnant accidentally (and happily) which just tore me to pieces. Accidentally? How the fuck does that happen? The concept of pregnancy being a result of sex and physical intimacy had become so foreign that the idea of it not being planned to the nth degree seems laughable.
And everytime I think I’ve burried the whole thing something unexpected brings it to the fore once more. Whether it’s the Small Child asking me if he can have a brother or hearing that yet another friend is having a baby… it just dredges it all up again. But when MD told me that he and his lady were expecting a baby I was genuinely happy for them, excited even. I was really happy to see him so happy. It was the first time in years I felt that way for one of my friends and I was beginning to think maybe I was finally putting it behind me…. you know, accepting my little family the way it is, stop chasing rainbows and moving right along.
But after tonight when I held that perfect little person for all of about a minute and a half before making a fool of myself and bursting into tears… I came to the sad realization that I’m deluding myself. Unfortunately, it still ain’t over.
the Small Child … at four months
I’ve been working hard to try and stop blathering about back pain in this journal. As I no doubt have mentioned earlier – I’m sick of thinking about it so no doubt everyone else is sick of hearing about it. Which means I’ve basically not had anything of import or consequence to report for a number of weeks (other than bitching about my sister of course which I think was totally warranted).
I’ve managed to keep the pain bullshit to a minimum by cleverly not writing anything too early in the morning (because I won’t remember having written it) or too late at night (when I’m at my worst and unable to think of anything else) and definitely not after consuming alcohol… because some of those entries are really kinda special when I read back over them.
If only not thinking or seeing or doing something would cease it’s ability to exist.
PS – my back hurts
Since BigSal sideswiped my little car I’ve been trying to gently prod her to get the insurance claim underway. I can’t book my car in for the repair until she has the authorization from her insurer. I could have put a claim in with my insurer but then they’d just be claiming it back from hers anyway so I thought it would be simpler if we cut out the middle guy so to speak.
But it seems I was wrong. I’ve cut out the wrong middle guy. Instead of cutting out my insurer from the loop I should have been trying to cut BigSal out of the loop. I’m pretty sure that if she hasn’t done anything about it when I call to ‘remind’ her next I’m going to have a few (more) choice words for her.
I have barely had this car six months. Yes I’m quite proud to say I still have my license and Mr K’s prophecy that the car would end up stuck in the garage as I would have lost my license speeding has not come to pass. But in that short duration, I’ve had a windscreen crack that I had repaired only to go 20mins down the road and end up with another rock hit the windscreen which cracked it so bad as to necessitate replacement. I’ve had a strange ticking noise when steering at full lock which the maintenance guys said may have been caused by dirt on something (memory failing on that one) but which is still happening intermittently and now I’ve got the lovely damage from my delightfully un-co sister which has certainly taken the tarnish off that ‘new car’ thing.
So what’s next?
I HATE LIVE JOURNAL..
Since it got sold I’ve had nothing but troubles. Some posts showing up twice, many showing up not at all.
Might be time to make www.boryssnorc.com into a real blog and move my SCA shit elsewhere.