Running with Scissors

The difference

I should probably be ashamed….

But I have a renewed a love affair with an old flame:


Oh Ramen Noodles, how do I love thee?  Wherefore art thy tastiness?!  And lo, though thy bosom be laden with sodium and saturated fat, I find myself snuggling to thy endless bounty and supping upon thy squiggly niblets.

By my troth, I do owe thee so much: namely surviving my childhood.

And for that, we thank thee.

With heart atwitter and mind overcome I am most sincerely yours,


Sometimes life doesn’t play fair.

Sometimes life doesn’t play fair.

I am missing…

I’ve gone searching for myself.  Should I get back before I return, kindly tell me to wait for myself. 

In other words, I will be on hiatus for a short period here as I deal with a dog with a broken leg, a parent still trying to die and just….life in general.

I should have things squared by Sunday. 

Thank you for your patience.


And then I was all like, “Don’t push my face!”.
Overheard conversation between an ICU nurse getting a wedge pressure and chatting to the RT at the bedside.  Now I find myself wanting to tell her to start over.  At the beginning.  And spare. No. Detail.
Everything changes when it involves children…

Allow me to start off by saying that I beg forgiveness. This post is not polished. It’s not even well thought out. It’s just an off the cuff expression of grief.

The title is taken from a comment I overheard in the hall from a physician who was bordering on tears. When I asked of what he was referring he referenced me to the events of this AM in a Connecticut school. And I find myself stunned and with a soul that feels like there’s a ball of Mercury rolling around in there somewhere.


The news reports are still changing as the details become clear. But somewhere in the neighborhood of 18 children killed. Possibly 9 adults.

My friends, what is happening to our society?

We can question where to place blame, I suppose. But at this moment I wonder at the futility of such an exercise. Perhaps it is part of mourning. And right now, in my little corner of the world, the air feels thick. Smiles are forced. We, as a society, connected in the most basic, most powerful way by our very humanity are mourning.

This is the moment when my healer blood calls out. When I wish with my heart, my soul, that I could reach out and make it all better, like kissing a skinned knee. I wish I could banish the hurt and make it stop. Just….make it stop.

What challenges face the survivors—children, healthcare workers, Emergency Response Teams, teachers, parents wracked with grief, guilt, PTSD. Families—marriages/partnerships— rend apart by loss and suffering. Individuals who, stricken by what happened, may take their own lives should their coping strategies fail. The span of this event reaches further than the immediate victims.

And I, like so many around me, am left breathless.

In this moment—I reach out—I raise my voice and decry this wound—the horrible wrong that has been inflicted. I offer prayer for those that so desperately need it and well wishes for any involved, no matter how remote.

How thin and haphazard do the words “my condolences” feel in this moment. 


It’s a Hobbit Life: The Hobbit Review

Let’s start out by saying yes, I did go and see the movie already.  At midnight, as a matter of fact.  Yes, I am one of those people.   I wear my inner geek loud and proud but no, I did not put on my faux elf ears….this time.

Peter Jackson returns bearing gifts of the same power punching action fantasy film that will once again mark The Hobbit as a cinema classic for years to come.  We are reunited with some characters we are already familiar with from the first three films and are introduced to a smattering of new characters as well as a remix of the lead protagonist in the more adorable than a pack of kittens smothered in jam Martin Freeman.

Freeman, beloved for his ability to be not only an “everyman” actor but also for his stellar touch of timing and subtly, brings nothing less than his ever present BAFTA level performance and dedication to the film.  Although he holds, truly, little dialogue, he more than adequately carries the backbone of what will ultimately unfurl into a three film plot and delivers a remarkable performance with nothing but the power of his ever expressive face.  As Freeman himself once said, “acting is reacting.” (Right before the always awesome, “Fuck you, I won a BAFTA.”  Oh Martin, why you make my heart valves flutter for?  Cheeky bastard.)  He could not be more spot on.  

He is more than successful in making the audience believe that he is truly walking this tumultuous and crazy life and finds himself just as intrigued and entranced by his character’s journey of self discovery and change as the rest of us.  Now that’s some tasty acting.

Not to be outdone, the LOTR cast veterans McKellen, Blanchett, Lee, Serkis and Weaving deliver solid performances and, frankly, we expect nothing less at this point.  So glad they don’t disappoint.  I might have had to tantrum all over the theater and kick a squid if they did.  So that brings us to the new characters Jackson has the great talented pleasure of introducing.  

First of all, thank you, Peter (Mr. Jackson, if you’re nasty) for not pulling an asshat maneuver and having any characters a la Jar Jar Binks.  I can assure that if such had been the case, there may had been death threats made.  With a spork.   Because of reasons. 

Moving along, there is a hearty mix of both new antagonists and protagonists that offers a little something for everyone: from those of us that adore dark, sinister, soul stealing yumminess (the Necromancer) to those more sophisticated individuals that crave those more stocky, solid and dare I say facial hair encumbered (yes, Snow White, I’m talking about the Dwarves).  And although we only get teeny, tiny free sample portions of some characters, the heaping helping we get of others makes us pat our cinema tummies and crave seconds.  

In fact some of the most remarkable characters, which stick to your bones with the tenacity of oatmeal, do nothing more than make eye contact with the camera, say absolutely nothing, and vanish leaving you pawing at the screen and lamenting the lack of “rewind” button.  But this is, yet again, another element that is commonplace in Jackson’s works as we witnessed in the first LOTR films in such characters as the Nazgul.  They never said a word and yet you knew that when they appeared, some shit was about to get real.  God, I want one as a pet!  How much is that Nazgul in the window?……


The rest of the film elements leave little to be desired.  From the visuals that once again remind us of how far we have come with CGI, and thank goodness for that, as well as how ungodly beautiful New Zealand is, to the sweeping soundtrack which beckons elements from the first three films to our attention, the whole mess reeks of excellence.  And may I just say, that this film, as with the first three, is an audiophile’s dream.  Seriously.  If I were a cat, I would have been purring throughout the whole film.  Loud.  

From this point I will do my best to keep from including spoilers, but we’re going to pause and discuss some plot points.  You may wish to consider this a semi-spoiler alert. ish.  I dunno.  Fuck it’s late.  And there’s been wine.  Get over it.

For those of us that grew up reading Tolkien and find ourselves rereading the books, I would be remiss if I didn’t say that this film, as with the other three, took small liberties which literary purists will have hard time digesting.  However, I firmly stand by the idea that if you can not suspend your own anal retentiveness and look past anything not perfectly tuned to the book, you have absolutely no business seeing the movie rendition of any piece of literature because all it will is irritate the crap out of you.  Save yourself the elevated blood pressure.

Let’s be honest, certain things do no translate well from book to film.  Tolkien wrote a very detailed (in fact, at certain points ad nauseam) plot with more than its fair share of non-rhyming poetry and plenty of clumsy feeling songs thrown in to boot.  Do not forget the dialogue exchanges that were sometime drawn out and over done.  And somehow Jackson is tasked with whittling it down to something that can be palatable to a general audience for three hours.  Challenge accepted.  But that means something’s gotta give.

There are only two “negatives” that I have with this particular film.  First, there are elements of humor which sometimes feel misplaced or forced and in some cases dilute the sincerity of the moment and the impact that it is meant to have.  Not saying it’s all bad—I had more than my fair share of chuckles, but there were a few points where I was more than ready to say “uncle”.  Please allow a poignant moment to keep its depth.

Secondly, and I suppose that this is not really a negative so much as a partial end review:  To say that this movie delivers to the high standard set by Jackson’s unfreakingbelievable Return of the King would be a fib.  Right division, wrong weight class.  

Overall, don’t ask me to rank the film with a number stars or even thumbs going in various directions.  For me, it’s all about whether or not a film can cause you to leave your life at the door and get lost a world well outside our norm.  For me, consider my reality set aside.  

I would highly recommend seeing this film in theaters if, for nothing else, to experience the sound and the brilliant manner in which it is used as well as the eye popping visuals.  As with all films LOTR, it has it’s moments of long winded lull (kinda like this review) but it reimburses your patience in spades.  

As for the midnight showing….hey, what can I say?  I enjoy people watching almost as much as I enjoy great cinema.  And the opportunity to clog the hell out of my left main by consuming “butter” laden half-stale popcorn while watching pubescent cos players deliver standing ovations to the opening credits is an experience too good to miss.

Just like this film.  And now, it is time for this Orc and her Warg to retire.

See ya’ at the sequel,


Am I missing something?

I’m pretty damn confident that double mocha latte roosting on the counter top in the nurses’s galley kitchen was quite obviously mine.  I mean, just in case the double written name, fucking carved into the side of the cup garnished in permanent marker wasn’t enough of an indicator, I know you saw me take a sip from it before setting it down.

And yeah, that is a run-on sentence.  But I’m having a tantrum.

So maybe I did get carried away with my rant this afternoon.

What did you learn?

Well wouldja lookit that?

To my new follower yesterdayschild:

You sure you want to be here?  Not lost, are you?

Holy crap! I think I just broke my vagina!
A fellow nurse responding to the question “Are you okay?” after tumbling over a Bair Hugger.  I seriously aspirated my gum and a solid portion of my surgical mask.