Third Time's Fatal

This is the year of the thirds. Spiderman 3, Shrek the Third, Pirates 3. I have now seen all three of these third movies. Here is my one sentence summary of each one.

Spiderman 3: Sadly not as good as the second one; too many badguys, too much unneccessary plot development.

Shrek the Third: They did not try to make it better than the first or second, thus it fulfilled its vision and was good in and of itself.

Pirates 3: Just plain awesome, the third movie that can remind us all why trilogies work so well.

I saw Pirates 3 last night. You must go and see it for yourself. It was amazing. Barbosa is the ultimate badguy and the ultimate badass. I think Geoffrey Rush may have topped my list of favorite actors.

Now, I have a little trivia game relating to the Pirate movies. I want you to participate. You are not allowed to look any of the answers up on any internet search engine or Wikipedia. You are allowed to remember them from literature and look them up in books if you want. These questions pertain to the Pirate movies only because the Pirate movies took from other mythos to create their fantasy world. It's a spectacular fantasy world and well done, but obviously got everything wrong. Not that it matters, I had too much fun to care. I just have this thing about knowing where your story comes from. It's weird, but I want people to have some understanding that a story can be created from other stories and still be good, but that it may not be true to the stories it came from. It's good to know where it came from even though it's not real history. There are reasons why people write stories. Actually, I really just want to say that if one more person insists to me that in nautical lore Davy Jones was the captain of The Flying Dutchman I am going to scream. Here are the questions:

1. Who was Calypso in Greek mythology?
2. Who was the actual goddess of the sea in Greek mythology?
3. Who/what was Davy Jones (hint: that's not a Dutch name)?
4. What does the term "Davy Jones locker" actually mean?
5. Who was the real captain of The Flying Dutchman (hint: he had a Dutch name)?
6. What was the captain of The Flying Dutchman famous for?
7. What was the significance of seeing The Flying Dutchman?
8. Who really ferried dead souls to the Underworld in Greek mythology?
9. What do pirates do?
10. Why is that cool?

The last two are jokes because I wanted a total of ten questions. I will probably post the answers at some point.

It's The Music Man

Do me a small favor. Go to Blockbuster or wherever and rent The Music Man. You can rent the old one or the remake, I don't care which. They are both good. Watch the movie.

Now, that is exactly what Iowans are like. Exactly. The Music Man is so accurate that it's mindblowing. I'm beginning to wonder what I have got myself into. These people are indescribably nice until you do something they do not like. Then they act like they want to tar, feather and run you out of town on a rail. I am not exaggerating.

The most annoying thing of all is that you cannot win with them. Even if you're right. They are just stupid enough (pardon my phraseology) that if you stand there and argue with them you're an awful, wicked person and if you roll your eyes and walk away you're an awful, wicked person. They have chips on their shoulders over the most idiotic things. But when they come at you shouting and threatening and you turn and leave that's a mistake. Apparently, it's normal to stand around and listen while people heap abuse on your head and refuse to explain to you why the seemingly trivial thing you did was so wrong.

That's the other thing I have already grown to hate. They expect you to know all their stupid little rules about everything, but they do not post any signs! This has got to be the most OCD state in existence. You'd think I'd be happy. No, no. I like OCD when it makes sense and when it can explain why certain things are bothersome. OCD that makes no sense and cannot explain its partialities can go somewhere I do not live.

I am sure I will get used to this eventually. Right now I just feel like complaining. Also, I am overwhelmed by how accurate that cute little musical really is.

Home Again

My move is nearly complete. That is to say, I have many boxes to unpack. It will take a while. I really just wanted to write to let you all know that I am here and everything went well. I will probably come up with something interesting to say at another time. Right now I am more practical than thoughtful. I have to help Craig fill out paperwork, I have to unpack boxes. I have to think about dinner for tomorrow and the rest of this week. I have to clean. I have to show my brother who is staying with us for the week a good time. I have to find my clean clothes. I have to organize my stuff. I have to find a part time job. I have to . . . Yeah, there are a lot of "have tos." That's life. Sometimes life is more important than writing. Sometimes writing is life. Right now the former is true. When I get the necessary things out of the way and under control I will be able to take up writing more in earnest. See you then!

A Little Confusion

This is my last evening in the town I claim to have grown to hate. The final night. Tomorrow I can go wherever the wind will take me. Or, rather, wherever a carefully prepared route, a long road and a big truck will take me. It will take me to Iowa. No matter. Right now I am only concerned with what I leave behind.

Some of the few friends I made in this town have expressed how much they will miss me. I begin to realize that I am leaving a place where I have some very meaningful relationships. These are people I will always miss. I have to go, I know. I chose to go. But right now my heart feels wrenched apart. I am confused at what I leave behind me. Going to a better place is one thing. A place where I will fit in more. It's great, really. I have been looking forward to that.

Then I remembered what good friends I leave behind. Suddenly I am torn. I know, I keep repeating myself. You can tell I am a bit sad. But it's the truth. I spend so much time not letting people in, then I realize that I have let a lot more people in than I at first thought. It comes rather suddenly, in something someone says. Some sorrow expressed. Some unexpected compliment. It's a shock to my system. A surprise; both poignant and triumphant. They do care, a small voice inside me says. I'm not a freak. It makes me tearful. It makes me cry when no one's looking. These people cared. I did not realize. Perhaps I did not let myself realize. Now I do, and I'm moving on.

I will always look back, I swear. I will do my best to keep up with all my friends here. And I will try to stay in one place so that I do not have to keep leaving friends in my path.

The Finish Line

Next week the move will be over. At least, the relocation part. I'll be stuck unpacking for the next 6 months. Or not unpacking. I expect we will have a house soon, so there is not much sense in unpacking everything.

Friday is my last day at work. My co-workers had a little going away luncheon for me today. It was nice. I started saying goodbye to a lot of people. I think it's finally hitting me that I am leaving. I am leaving friends. Everyone is so nice. I know, it's mainly because I'm leaving and will probably never see most of them again. People always say the nicest things to you when you're going away. I guess that's human nature. We do not pause to say we care until we realize we are losing something. It's okay. It makes the leaving easier when you know other people like you.

Only a few more days of packing, cleaning and throwing away papers and I will be on my way to my new home. It's like a miracle. Everything has to be taken care of by Monday evening. At times like these I can hardly wait until I reach the scheduled finish line. When I get there I know that the difficult stuff will all be done. But until that time comes I have a lot of work.

Ah, Logic # 9

This is what I am talking about. For once someone makes sense when discussing Africa.