We all float on

Or more to the point, we all float on down the hill. I think that's not what Modest Mouse intended. But since Southern California is indeed rain battered and sopping, it's also appropriate. And does the title of that song make anyone else think of It? Think of the clown whispering out from the rain gutters?

Oh, that's just me then. Huh.

Saw Constantine this weekend, enjoyed it thoroughly. crankygrrl mentioned it's lack of scary, which is not to say unsettling. I think I didn't expect to be scared, therefore I didn't miss that element. I liked the stylization, and I loved the way they used my city, the seedy storefronts and the weird mix of light and color and haze that is Los Angeles. I think, for me, the lack of scary also has to do with my own upbringing and beliefs. Having never particularly feared the idea of hell, of that as an afterlife, I don't find it scary. Horrifying perhaps, but not as scary or as threatening as I imagine someone with a stronger religious background would. But then, I also have trouble with the idea of heaven. So, yeah, that may limit my scope of understanding.

The Bellydancer of the Universe contest was a wash, sadly. We got down there, braving the torrential rains. We were ready - hair on, makeup done, dressed, ready to go, so damned ready and three groups into the contest electricity hit a transformer, downing a power line and knocking out the power for a whole city block. We waited for an hour and a half, and then they canceled the contest. I feel bad about the amount of work we put in, but really, for us it wasn't that big a deal. A disappointment, but little else. Other groups had come from San Francisco and Portland and New Mexico. So they were out time and money with no chance to recoup their losses. Also, there was a wedding going on in the same hotel and wow did I feel sorry for them.

We lost power at home as well, so when I got back to my house, M. and I sat up until 5 a.m. drinking brandy and listening to music on the iPod speakers because they're battery powered. Gotta love technology.

I have some BSG thoughts, but I'm sort of worn out and worn down today. It was one of those weekends were my attention was an internal field of competition, where it was so damned hard to get out of my head, to pay attention to the external and when I did surface to do so, I was mostly unhappy. I'm so very out of sync with my body, disliking my external self so much these days, and my internal life is yelling to be attended to and I'm lethargic and gray and well, now I just sound self-pitying so I'll stop. I keep having dreams of change, dreams of things falling into place and I know they're signs, are signals and I wish I could do more than speak of change, that I could effect it in myself.

10 Things

( My ten )

It's just that sort of day, and the urge to cry to be wracked and sobbing is sort of overwhelming right now. I read through rubberneck's commentaries on parts of Little Acorns and they just killed me, made me start crying which is absurd, but there's so much there and I'm so very attached to that story, to the depth and breadth of it, to the remarkable things she accomplished in the telling of that tale and I absolutely ache for the characters in these two scenes, for the mistakes and the pain and the realization and the absolute shattering hope of the situations.