Django Unchained: A review

I went and saw Django Unchained the other night. It was a bit of a bold choice for me, I'm not really into violent movies, but I do love Tarantino - Pulp Fiction is one of my all time favourite films, so I wanted to see it, particularly after it's Oscar nod.

I. Loved. It. Straight up, no beating around, I loved it. One of Tarantino's best for sure. I love the levels this guy creates in his film. There are parts that make you squirm uncomfortably at the violence (a dog tearing a poor guy apart? Men fighting to the death? Yeah, that's hard to see). There are parts that make you want to cry (A woman bound and whipped, also hard to see). There are parts that make you cheer at the violence (vengeance is a powerful emotion). And there are parts that make you giggle uncontrollably - the scene with the bag heads had me in hysterics. Just perfect comedy.

Beyond that, the story and the characters themselves are full of depth and personality. Leonardo Di Caprio has had people up in arms at his missing out again on a supporting actor nomination and I can see why - he portrayed Candie brilliantly, he's one of the best actors out there in my opinion. Jamie Foxx as Django was great, but I wasn't blown away. I do however, really hope that Christoph Waltz takes out the Oscar for supporting actor. Without doubt, for me, Dr. King Schultz stole the movie and my heart. How wonderful too, that Tarantino makes the most compassionate character of the movie German. Schultz is a perfect mix of funny, compassionate, and stern. I loved him. Samuel L. Jackson, another of the finest actors out there today, played Stephen brilliantly. Hilariously funny, yet incites anger and frustration in the viewer as well, he definitely played the role without fault.

The cinematography is beautifully crafted, and the interweaving of modern techniques with classic Western is pulled off without a hitch. Tarantino's cameo is fantastic, though his Aussie accent leaves a bit to be desired!

The blend of a brilliant cast, a fantastic story and some pretty amazing cinematography truly makes this one stand out as a brilliant movie. Do yourself a favour - go see it.

Can you help me?

To say I am an emotional person is to say the Grand Canyon is kinda big. I feel everything intensely. A cause I believe in? I am all in. Relationships? I love with my entire heart, give it all and am loyal to a fault. This is not normal, and naturally I rarely get the same sort of thing in return, and that can lead to innrer turmoil, despite logically understanding it's me that is not normal in what I give.

When you feel everything so deeply, you can imagine too, what negative emotions can be like. I feel fear and hurt so deeply it becomes devastating. And self hatred? If there is a hell, that's what it feels like.

It's pushed people away. Some I am glad to see go (after all, if they can't empathize and accept my faults, then they're not the people I thought they were, or want in my life anyway) others I regret seeing leave.

I don't know how to be any other way. I've fairly been called intense, over the top, melodramatic. It's not by choice, I just literally don't know how to bring emotions back to a manageable level. I don't know how to keep things in control. God knows I have tried. The only thing that's ever enabled me to think logically and not react emotionally, is a heavy painkiller that numbs things. That's hardly a sustainable way to live.

So what do I do? How do I fix this? How can I live a little less from my poor heart? Help me.

Deliciousness

Before I move on, in reference to my last post - obviously we lost hope and the worst outcome became reality. Everyone has been affected by the story, and it's certainly left me feeling less safe on a night out. I hope her killer is brought to justice, swiftly.

Moving on, I'm back to another food post.

My wonton soup was ahhhhmayyyzing. I'll be making that again for sure. So delicious. And vegan! Less successful was my made from scratch Rogan Josh curry, which was just slightly bitter, and I can't pinpoint which ingredient was the culprit for it. The satay was quite good though, I also made the curry paste for that from scratch too. My Chickpea, feta and marinated vegetable salad - looked divine, tasted too vinegary. The marinade (bought) was too strong for my liking. Asparagus, broccoli and cheese pasta and Italian Suppli were winners (vego not vegan, had cheese). The most surprising win was the tofu kebabs. I don't really do tofu, but in the homemade BBQ sauce, caramelised up... so tasty! Would absolutely eat again and a great protein source to boot.

My rogan josh curry paste. home made! Toasted my own spices and all!

The rogan josh curry

chickpea, feta and marinated vegetable salad. looks better than it tasted.

Wonton Soup 

Italian suppli

BBQ Tofu and fried rice 

I also had great success with my vegan cheese experiment. It was s tasty and so cheeselike, I may be able to give it up and go full vegan yet. I have hope, finally!

My 9 year old wanted to cook dinner one night this week, so I let him choose what he wanted to make. He chose pizzas so we got some passes, some pizza sauce, and various toppings. He made ham and cheese for himself and his sister, and he made me a delish onion and mushroom one. So tasty, he did such a good job of doing all the cutting and using the hot oven and so on. I reckon we'll keep this up...

A good friend (Megan over at Living a Truly Blessed Life) sent me a recipe for vego sausage rolls. I was curious, because they really looked the part, so I gave them a go. They had a slight hint of oatiness to them (rolled oats was a big ingredient) but omg they were yummy and the texture was absolutely sausage rolly. But not scary meat! Even the 9yo gave them the thumbs up and declared them better than the ones from the shop (ie meat ones) he didnt even realise they were vego. WINNING.

I went to my sisters for lunch this week. She put on the BEST vegetarian lunch spread. I wanted to eat ALL THE THINGS. She had lentil burgers, chickpea and spinach sausages, falafel, salads, wraps, cheeses, antipasto... it was amazing. She sent me home with leftovers which went down a freakin treat. I really loved how much of an effort she made to make me something so delicious and so vegetarian. It was really special.

I seem to be getting a few repeat meals in rotation now which is good, means I've found meals I am seriously enjoying. Added in as new experiments this week are a tomato and cheese risotto, vego fajitas and for Grand Final day BBQ I did the most delicious mushroom and halloumi kebabs, corn on the cob with herb butter, and fried ravioli with fresh hommus. Far out it was good. I love food!

The compelling case of #JillMeagher

What is it that so compels us in the Jill Meagher case? People go missing all the time yet these particular set of circumstances have most of us enthralled and genuinely emotive. Why?

If you're truly unaware, Jill Meagher is a 29 year old woman from Ireland now living in Melbourne with her Irish husband. In the early hours of last Saturday morning she attempted to walk the short distance from a bar to her home but along the way she vanished. She's not been heard from since. Police released CCTV footage showing her in conversation with a man who looks alarmingly like a man other women reported harassment and abduction attempts by. Her handbag was found 2 days later in an obvious spot police had already scoured. Missed or planted?

It doesn't look like good news. It's terrifying. Makes my skin crawl. I'm not much older than her. I've gone out in that area and been drunk there. Is it the 'could easily have been me' element that grips us so? The mystery of it? The fear is genuine. I feel my stomach tense when I read about this. I feel true dread and worry for this woman I've never heard of before.

Something about it is gripping us psychologically. There is a lot if judgement at the fact she walked home alone but don't we all live by the default setting of 'it can't/won't happen to me'? I've walked streets alone at night. Intoxicated. Silently scolded myself for the risk in the light of sober day. It's just 5 minutes. I do it all the time. I'll be fine there's people around... Plenty of traffic... And yet.

Women get unwanted attention from men a lot. Being approached on the street at that hour by a man wouldn't be unusual. And Jill is a pretty woman. I don't want to speculate but chances are she was rolling her eyes and just hoping he would give it up and she could go on her way. Not initially suspecting real danger. Using her phone to prevent him further engaging her. Who knows though? Only Jill.

Perhaps that's what gets to us here. That many of us have had unwanted encounters that maybe leave us feeling a bit unsafe but we rack it up to part of life and go on with it. Except Jill can't. Where is she?

I don't want to allow something like this to change how I conduct a night out or how I feel about walking unaccompanied at night or anytime. But it does. I feel less safe. I feel far more cautious and fearful. It infuriates me that I've been made feel this way by some bastard who has done this. Remember those 'reclaim the night' women's marches? No way. Not reclaimed. Taken further away.

I hope the police get a breakthrough in this case soon. I hope Jill is found alive. I hope this increases our awareness of what's going on around us - to us or others in our vicinity. I hope this feeling of mass fear and intimidation doesn't last. I hope that we don't lose hope.

Crimestoppers 1800 333 000 

I am judging you. Probably.

I recently realised something about myself. I'm kind of judgemental sometimes. This is upsetting because I always thought that I wasn't. I'd see, for example, debates raging on parenting choices and I'd shrug and say "I don't know you and your child, only you know what works for you" and I'd feel almost smug about not judging people.

But recently two things have happened where I have found myself getting upset and judgey mcjudgepants at people. And I don't like it.

Firstly, I get annoyed when people don't display the same levels of friendship or loyalty that I do. Just because I would react in a fiercely loyal way, doesn't mean others have to. I get hurt when they don't, yet it's unreasonable of me to expect they do. It's kinda tough to be honest. I don't know how to handle that at all.

And secondly, if you eat meat, I am judging you for it. Big time. I am trying to accept that people have their reasons for consuming meat and that I can't and shouldn't think less of them for it, but you know what? I do. I can't see any reason that outweighs the suffering and murder of innocent animals. I just can't. There is no reason good enough for me.

I don't know what to make of this new side to me. I don't like it, it's not a pleasant way to be. But it's also difficult to stop myself doing. I guess being aware of it is a start, but from here out, I am not sure where to go with it. Maybe this is a stupid post to hit send on. Now you can all judge me for being judgey?!!

Weight loss surgery

Controversial? Yeah, probably. Any time I read an article or something about it, there are loads of comments where people say fat people just need to exercise and eat less. Funny, I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT :/ I wish it were that easy, really I do. Being overweight isn't something people tend to enjoy. Often it goes hand in hand with self hatred or self consciousness, and even if one manages to find an acceptance and love of themselves with "extra" weight, they're still subject to a society that ridicules, denigrates and abuses them. So, let me tell you, if it was so easy, if we could all just stop eating and exercise, we would. There are lots of reasons it's not and I won't get into them because I don't think I could cover them all, ever.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about surgery. It's pretty much a last resort for those that decide to go ahead with it. Whether its a lap band, a gastric sleeve or a gastric bypass, there's risk. It's a major operation and every major operation comes with a risk. It's what put me off for years, I was terrified that the risk of surgery was too great. Surgery on an overweight person already increases risk, ya know? But someone once said that your weight is rarely the same on a 12 month anniversary, and mine was only ever greater. I got heart palpitations and had to wear a holter monitor (they were harmless but I was terrified it was weight related), I got terrible reflux that was agony, and I ended up having all sort of investigations to try to resolve it... It was weight related. I realised things were only ever going to get worse for me. I hated my reflection, I hated my body, I was scared I would die young and not see my children grow up. I had to do something, I was desperate. Absolutely desperate and terrified.

Now, I still have to shake my head and ask myself, 'did I really have my stomach chopped out?!' It blows my mind that I was so extreme, that I had to be. I feel disappointed that it came to that, but grateful I had the option. The option to essentially save my life. My confidence, my self esteem. All these things were saved. I am currently 9 months out from my gastric sleeve operation and I have lost 37kg. Imagine how much lighter my body must feel to carry around every day. Have you ever lifted 37kg? I encourage you to do so. I paid for the operation upfront. $15,000 that happened to come our way and could have been used for a home, for debt reduction, for so many better things. I still feel guilt about it. But, it's a second chance at life. And I feel like I am really living now. I feel like suddenly, I have a future that I never saw before, that I never truly believed I would get the chance to see, and now I do. I cannot tell you how powerful that is. I am so grateful to J who gave me the money to do this, and sacrificed his own dreams to let me live. It's not something I can ever fully express gratitude for. Such an incredible gift to be given in so many ways.

It's hard not to compare my loss to others who have had the same operation and are faring so much better, but I am trying to focus on my own journey, and for me, it's a big deal and a massive improvement. So maybe surgery is controversial, but for me it was the only way I could have done this. I have not a single doubt in my mind about that, because I see how much I still struggle not to overeat, to exercise, to change the mind as well as the body. It's hard, really hard, but it was the only way I could save my life. Drastic, not the easy way out by any means, but grateful that I could do it. It's time to shine not only an awesome Kell on the world, but an awesome confident Kell. Bring that on.

September 11.

WTC1 new Tower construction, May 2011.

Quick warning: There is some graphic content in this post.


Can you believe ten years have passed since the world changed forever? I can't. We all know where we were when it all went down. I was 23, working as a counselling supervisor with Lifeline. It was late at night, Australian time, I was on the phone to a friend and watched the plane hit, but didn't register that it wasn't just a movie. J came in and said "it's the pentagon too, this is huge." I still didn't really register. I watched the news for a while before going to sleep, I had a plane to catch early the next morning for work, to Canberra for Lifeline's annual conference. The airport was like nothing I had ever seen before, nor since. It was SO quiet. So sombre. There were televisions on and all had CNN live streaming. It was sort of scary to board a plane and head for Australia's capital city. At that point there were predictions of all kinds of terror on western society.

In the years that have passed since, I have been morbidly fascinated with events from the day. I have read every book I can find on it, watched many documentaries and accessed endless internet articles, videos and photos. Recently, I watched a documentary interview with some survivors, ten years on. What fascinated me more than the stories of escape and horror ("I crawled over a man with no head, just a spinal column sticking out 3-4 inches from his neck" and from someone at the Pentagon - "there were body parts floating in the water, I wanted to take them out, it was the only chance. A small hand floated past, there was nowhere to put it so I put it in my pocket. I was so angry...") but more than that was how they were affected in the time since. Nightmares, reliving certain scenes, one man said he couldn't cope in confined spaces, and still struggled to go to a movie theatre.

In the time after 9/11 but before having children, I seriously considered becoming a Critical Incident Stress Debriefer and working with first responders. I still sort of would like to... But it's unlikely. Hearing these stories made me think about it. I cannot comprehend how people see these things, in real life, and continue living a normal life. How do you process it and carry that around forever? One survivor made my heart ache when he said "living with it is my penance for surviving when others didn't." That made me so sad, that he feels guilty for his survival.

There's no doubt September 11 changed the 'safe' world we live in. It took away our innocence, and reminded us we are ALL potential targets. The horror and raw anger of it impacted everyone who has seen that footage. We all still feel emotional about that day, to some extent. Even those of us a world away. Those lives will never be forgotten. Those that saved the final target, and took the plane down in Shanksville, heroes is an overused word, but this was true heroism.

In May of this year, I went to New York City. My first stop was the World Trade Centre and the memorial. The new memorial was obviously not opened, but I could see it under construction, along with the new WTC1 Tower. I wandered through the memorial across the road. Saw the photos, read the stories, saw remnants of steel, uniforms, and personal effects that had been recovered. I was emotional. So many names. Given how much I had read and watched about the day, I thought I would have some sort of grasp after going to the site, but I didn't. It still didn't seem real. I don't think it ever will. (edit: I dreamt I was there last night, considered not publishing this post, felt wrong using the graphic details. But, it's real. Pretending it didn't happen, doesn't make it not so).

How religion fits into all of this is a topic for another post, but today is for remembering.

Writing like a bandit

This morning, the children were out with their Dad, I had a quiet house all to myself. So, I put on some music, and typed. Boy did I type. I wish I had that happen more often. I added well over 3000 words to my wee book. It's coming along nicely, but it still reads as a summary, I need to immerse myself into the details and moments far more than I have so far. That said, it's giving it a lovely shape and outline to fill in. It makes my heart happy!

As I wrote, I thought about what writers put of themselves into stories. Events, personality traits, fears, whatever it may be. A part of my writing this morning was to re-live when Hendrix was put to sleep. I was feeling sad enough at the beginning, but by the time I got to the end, I was sobbing like a baby. I hope that when I leave parts of myself in my writing this way, that the reader truly feels them when they read. That would be the mark of good writing, and one I will always strive for. Emotion in writing is one of the most powerful things to experience, either as reader, or author.

Speaking of happy, my irregular offer from Deakin was already accepted, I can do teaching after all! Not sure as yet how to manage the placements, but I'll take each bridge as I get to it. It's exciting! Mums biopsy was straightforward, she gets an answer on Thursday, keep her in your thoughts until then?

Follow Up

Further to the other day, I wanted to share this video with you -




It breaks my heart. What are we as parents doing wrong to have this all go so wrong of late? Why are we perpetuating these judgmental and cruel perspectives? Why are we not teaching our children that different is okay - regardless of its form? People are going through so much pain. Bullying is awful in any form, be it because a kid is gay, different looking, or smart, or fat, or whatever it might be.

Isn't it difference that makes us each special and unique?? Is it not difference that makes us who we are, that special someone to someone else? Sometimes it is the very things I can't stand about myself, that another may love. I just wish we could love our children, and raise them to love one another. To accept one another. I feel this is a revolution of change right now, and I truly hope that momentum continues to build and society keeps being forced to pay attention, to make changes, and to open their minds.

Religion and Homosexuality

It has been a long time since I blogged, personally. I have been blogging semi-regularly over at kellysmith.com.au in a professional capacity, but what better way to return to personal blogging than with a wowzer of a controversial topic?! How very me.

This link is the one in a string I have read on twitter this week, relating to suicides of young people, due to bullying, and often as a result of homosexuality. Two stood out to me this morning, and have really affected me - enough to prompt me to blog, anyway. Aside from the previous link, this blog entry at Scary Mommy, written by a guest blogger (@TexanMama) really upset me.

I don't understand it. How can someone be so upset that their kids teacher is gay? I wouldn't have a clue if F's teacher is gay, straight or all of the above. And you know what, if she was, and it DID affect the discussions and focus of the teaching, then great! I am all for his mind being opened to all kinds of walks of life. The more he understands we are all different - and that's okay - the better.

How can love be wrong? Ever? How??? Isn't love the entire point? Isn't that what we are here for? How can that ever be wrong??? And if your God is telling you it is, surely there is some problem there? I am not religious. AT ALL. Organized religions do nothing but upset me. I am spiritual. I believe... in something. Maybe. Organized religions seem to be nothing but trouble and hatred and judging.

Our children, teenagers all over the world, are KILLING THEMSELVES. They are dying. Because they are not accepted. Because they cannot bear to be alive in a world that tells them they are evil, wrong, and unworthy, simply because of who they are. How tragic is that?? Why does it bother you, what other people do and who they love? Why does it bother you that a childs role model is openly gay? They NEED these role models. They need to see that love is always okay. F asked me once about a friend at school that had 2 mums, and I explained that families are all kinds of different. 2 mums, 2 dads, one of each, only one, grandparents... That some people marry boys, some marry girls, and every match up is okay. So long as people are happy and in love!

I feel heavy hearted that people advocate and spout this sort of stuff. Someone asked how would I feel if F were to become a conservative christian, in the same way we ask those people how they'd feel if their children were gay. How would I feel? I would love him. I would respect his choices. And I would appreciate all that is wondrous, beautiful, and loving about him, the same way that I do now. Why is that such a hard concept for anyone to grasp?

I wish I could inspire a revolution of change. I wish I could end the homophobia and bigotry, and it desperately upsets me that I am just one person. All I can do is ensure that I raise the 2 children I have with open minds, and loving hearts. Regardless of creed, sexuality, or anything else. It's the best I can do.

Music that moves

I've always liked music, ever since I was a little girl standing up in church at the age of about 4 screaming "Turn me loose!" at the top of my lungs, music has always made me happy. I never really played (playing skip to the lou and other daggy songs with the even daggier primary school principal on guitar and belting out some god knows what tune on a tenahorn also primary school = uninspiring and so not cool).

Of course as a teenager, music played a big role in my life from teenybopper boy bands (woot, new kids!) through to tunes that got me over many a broken heart, and the obligatory angry tunes... there is always something to fit what you feel right? Music is wonderful that way.

It wasn't really until I was an adult though, that I found music that actually moved me. The really sort of connected with my soul. This was not just music I liked or enjoyed or thought was clever etc. This was something I had not ever experienced, nor truly believed existed! I guess that kind of thing would be individual. One womans moving music is anothers grating screech perhaps.

When I discovered the tea party, I discovered music that blew me away. A few of theirs in particular, stir emotions deep inside every single time I hear them. Psychopomp has this sad undertone of desperation and pain to me; Save Me is like an intense yearning, and Soulbreaking just clicks into something inside me that nothing else has ever discovered. And that is just a start, there are many more.

Was I devastated when they split up? Sure, I think I all but cried! But theres still all those albums that exist already, that have so much more left to explore on them, even after hundreds of listens. I think I was more pissed off. Jeff Martin, heretofore a bit of a hero of mine, fell from grace in a bad way, and I don't think I have ever quite forgiven him. I am sure his heart bleeds. I've not really listened to his solo stuff, even though I have it. I just think now... hes a bit of a jerk really. And that influences how the music feels to me - even the ttp stuff if I let it.

I am positively champing at the bit though, to hear what The Art Decay has to offer. Yeah Jeff could write and had that mystic thing going, his voice was soulful - but so much of what the ttp is and was to me, is in the work of Jeff and Stuart. I cannot wait to see what the two conjure up between them now.