Wrecked.

[merimask]

I wanted to write about Charlotte's truimphant rugby game, but I just watched Schindler's List and it wrecked me again.  

That movie always wrecks me.  It's the only movie that I'll cry unashamedly during, and I don't hate it for making me cry, because it's a movie that ought to make you cry.  Normally I hate movies that make you cry because they do it through artifice and manipulation, and I resent the heck out of that.  But if you don't cry at least once during Schindler's List, you are either not paying attention, a sociopath, or one hard-hearted customer.  Oh my god...the little girl in the red coat...

So now I have puffy eyes and a broken heart.  And a renewed passion for Liam Neeson, who is damn fine.  Poor guy just lost his wife, too...so tragic.  I'm all morose and stuff.  Damn you Steven Spielberg!  *pout*

*sniffle*

In other news, I went for a long bike ride yesterday which started out wonderful, got really icky in the middle, and ended on a good note anyway.

See, it was early evening which is my favorite time to hit the trails.  The air was still & warm, the sunlight had a wonderful midsummer golden quality and everything is glowing and green 'cause the trees have come back to life.  Perfect, right?  So I headed out but skipped the trail because it was SO beautiful, I kind of wanted to be alone with the beauty...does anyone out there know what I mean?  If I'm on the trail, I have to smile and nod and say " 'evening!"  to everyone 'cause it's a popular trail & people are friendly like that, & instead I just wanted to listen to Seal, feel my muscles work and enjoy the late sunlight.

So I picked a dead still road that runs right along the river, and it was a near-religious experience.  The river was full of diamonds, the air smelled like fresh cut lawns, and I was all alone on the road with my bike.  I fairly flew with no wind at all in my face...I must have eaten up 6 or 7 miles in no time at all and it was really wonderful.

And then the bugs woke up.  And there was no wind.  So they just sort of hung out along the edges of the road where I was riding.  They were big enough that I could hear and feel them hitting me, and fragile enough to leave bits of themselves behind.   

Bugs in my hair, bugs up my nose, bugs down my shirt...bugs bugs bugsa. 

In self defence, after about a mile of catching bugs with my face, I turned off that road and headed inland, away from the water.  There were slightly less bugs and I was able to furble my way back to the trail.  Fortunately (after stopping to shake the bugs out of my hair) I found the trail to be relatively bug free and so I did my normal ride with no further bug-related incidents.

For future reference; the West River Road is buggalicious on warm still nights, but East River Road is just fine.  Go figure.
 

Comments

[golden-meliades.livejournal.com]

Brain fart: Troyes Cinema. Sounds nearly the same in pronunciation but Troyes makes a lot more sense. Everything...everything! on base is named after some war reference.

EDIT: I went to school on Ypres Boulevard.

[merimask.livejournal.com]

See...sometimes I wish I could go back in time & shake my Dad & say "Teach us French!" 'cause he was actually French but spoke perfect English and never really kept the French around in the house.

Consequently, I'm reading "Ypres" as "Yeepers", and I know that can't be right.

[golden-meliades.livejournal.com]

Lol, it's pronounced 'ee-pray'. As in 'the battle of' (Major battle of the first world war. There were several...the third one was also known as the battle of Passchendaele. It's known because it's one of the worst battles in (modern) history. Really...everything on base is named after a battle or a war leader. Dieppe is just a few streets down, for example, and the name of the school itself is General Panet.