waiting

It’s rare that I actually see a movie before it comes out on Netflix or cable, so if I’m a bit behind indulge me with your forgiveness. Like most parents it takes a thousand reasons to see a movie on the “big” screen (in quotes as I’m convinced screens were so much bigger when I was younger).

That said, I did actually get out to see The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo last week. Chose not to see it with my newly legal for R-rated movies son, despite the fact that he’d already read the book on my recommendation, deciding it might be a bit umm awkward to see some of the more violent scenes seated next to him. Did see it with my husband who hadn’t read the book, thus proving that the filmmakers were able to convey a complex plot (the book was incredibly detailed) with not only suspenseful but masterful and often quite beautiful filmmaking within the time constraints of a feature film. Both of us loved it, although love is perhaps an odd term for a movie of such painfully difficult themes. I’d seen the Swedish version which I also liked, but this version clearly holds its own.

Today I watched “The Waiting City.” I’m a sucker for films which take me to faraway places (India!), but beyond that aspect of it, thought it was a very honest portrayal of a complex relationship.


Just when I thought it would go predictable it veered away, which I like. The actors were just fascinating to watch, great performances. Oh, and I did shed a tear at one point (won’t spoil it by saying why).

Since the theme of this post is waiting…I thought I’d mention that for the first time in a long while I’m awaiting the postman/postwoman. Since most of my mail has moved online, they usually bring only silly things, junk mail, credit card offers and cruise offers on whose envelopes are splashed dramatic words such as “Last opportunity to chase your dreams!”, all of which are directed at my dearly and long departed mother who hopefully has already found her dream world somewhere up there in the land/sea of good mothers.

Nosiree, no more boring mail, for one of my favorite online havens for irreverent, honest and often brilliant writing and expression, The Rumpus, has begun a wonderfully retro plan to actually send letters, real letters (although duplicated as they will be sent to well over 500 people at last count), written by real writers. Looking forward to receiving my first one (and have alerted all in my household that no, I’ve not begun an epistolary romance despite the fact that I’ll hopefully be receiving many of these literary missives, addressed (by hand?) to me myself and shhhh, I’ll share with you Catherine B.)

I wonder if this yearning for the simpler past is not something that has existed since time began, although it is hard to imaging yearning for the Dark Ages or the Inquisition, etc. Something to explore in another post, perhaps while I wait for the mail. Yum.

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