I was calculating how I spent my time in 2009 [through my very specific daily planner], and I discovered that 91% of my days [that's 11 out of 12 months] involved an average of one film in each! That's countless hours invested in stories about other people's lives, and my own life is barely between the pages of it's own prologue. Is that sad?

At last! I have seen Avatar.

I've been restricted from watching films until I get my Class 7 license. I am sad Laura.

It's not that I'm only just starting to study, but it'll still be about a week until I'll be ready to take the test. I am rather stressed about passing, as well as annoyed at the lack of movie nights.

I was, however, still allowed to go see Avatar in 3D at Silver City today, since I had already made plans to go with friends. The film was incredible, I was breathless at the end and I wanted to see it again right away. James Cameron, the director, has made another masterpiece.

It's not that the plot is so great, since aside from the main idea it consisted mostly of political themes regarding humans as nature-hating, earth-destroying, money-hungry murderers and the usual good-guy + bad-guy = conflict kind of idea. The impressive thing, was the visual effects.

In the making of the film, when they were shooting the avatars themselves, the actors played their parts wearing special suits with sensors feeding their movements into computers which turn the actors into the large, blue creatures you see in the film. They actually incorporated the actors' facial features into the creatures as well, so you can still appreciate the acting and the more realistic-looking expressions and body movements that only a real person can provide. They looked very very real, unlike some of the video game style CGI you see today.

The scenery was also stunning. It made you want to live there, among the huge trees and electric plants, riding one of those flying creatures. You wanted to BE an avatar, those lovely large cat-like beings that are so one with their world. But, unfortunately, it also made you hate what our world has become -although I fought my mind on that, since believing that would mean I fell for the propaganda. However, it was still too amazing not to balk at or buy into, so I didn't feel bad.

As for the inspiration for the film, not counting the plot surrounding it, the idea of people using their brain waves to control other bodies has been around a very long time. Harlan Ellison, Paul Anderson and many other science fiction authors have used the same idea in several different scenarios. I'm not surprised, however, that it's taken this long for a filmmaker to use the idea: it would have been wasted without this new, cutting-edge technology which really, made the movie. It was wonderful to see in 3D.

I received a much desired clear glass French press teapot and two gorgeous Bodum glasses this morning. I'm very happy.

And now for more relatives and food and holiday cheer. Huzzah.

Unbelievable.

Christmas = 8 days away.

That is just incredible. A few years ago, I think I actually would have been excited at the thought. *Sigh*. I guess this dread of the holiday just comes with age. I feel so much less a child, and so much more a Scrooge.

By the way, I'm reading the original & unabridged A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. That is perhaps the only Christmas related thing I've done this month of my own will [aside, of course, for the purchase of gifts for my friends]. The book is very good. As you surely know, the same cannot be said for the multiple film adaptations of it. Ugh.

The same goes for most other Christmas films. And music, come to think of it. Sure, Bing Crosby's Christmas album is included between Sam Roberts and AFI on my CD shelf, but it's still quite rare that anything like that appeals to me. Christmas is so overrated.

I hate to be so negative, and I know that I sound like some sort of nihilist, but just bear with me, here. I am not a nihilist. I just feel like one tonight.

I haven't been keeping up very well with life. I think I'm at least half a year behind.

I'm right caught up in math, though: I've just procrastinated shamelessly for the last month. I have no idea why, but my motivation has been very lacking of late.

For now, I guess I have Christmas related affairs and projects to keep me occupied. Blarg.

Joyeux Noël, peuple.

The Coen Brothers are geniuses.

I just saw The Big Lebowski.... hilarious.

Everything from Raising Arizona to Fargo to No Country for Old Men, their films are entertaining -no matter how serious or depressing. I just thought I would say that, and encourage you to look them up.

They're brilliant directors.

Hmm. What have I done lately?

I have cleaned my room. I have horribly procrastinated in math. I have read The Lovely Bones. I've started listening to Billy Talent, Marianas Trench and Green Day again, for no apparent reason. I have discovered Daniel Day-Lewis in all his glory. I haven't written anything. I haven't finished anything. I haven't started anything. I've been feeling hard, and I can't seem to cry anymore.

*sighs*

Life's great, really.

Swimming competitions. This one has been my first.

Swim meets are easily the best and worst events to possibly take up a week-end.

I mean, is it really necessessary for a 3 DAY meet? Do we really need to get up at 5 am three mornings ina row just to plow our cars through blowing snow all the way downtown [or from as far as Calgary] and then -mercilessly- be plunged into an icy pool for 'warm up'? I can't see the appeal, here. And yet... I do it.

There's just this feeling during it all: accomplishment. Even if your times aren't as hefty as you had hoped, you still feel as though you did your best for yourself and the team, and you enjoyed it. Yes, enjoyed it.

I was nervous [frightened, even] before my first race, but as soon as I was in the water, I wasn't worried anymore. In fact, it was basically everything inbetween the races that kept me in a total state of contempt for the very idea:

1. The warm-ups. What are they? Cruel exercises meant to prepare the swimmer's body for extreme physical exertion... in a pool of 600 other swimmers. I kid you not. I was kicked, scratched, shoved and made angry inumerable times. It was horrifying. Of course, I in turn returned the favors, but I hate warm up. So much.

2. Nothing to do but sit on hard, skinny benches or bleachers while your coccyx pleads for you to lend it a cushion and your mouth sucks the chlorine-filled air and humidity.

3. Watch the male swimmers and swoon while they breeze through a race. They always seem so perfect behind their excellent abs, but as soon as they open their mouths to speak they dash your dreams.

4. The stress. Before each race. Every time.

Apart from that, however, the races are great. I really enjoy myself. All I have left of this meet is tomorrow. I'll be glad when it's over, but pleased that I did my best.

It's December, darling.

I have so much to do.