Category: ragdoll rambles

New Year’s Revolutions

So last year, my one Revolution was to be healthy and live like a normal girl again. And old girl, but a normal one none the less, and I think I almost got there. After a shaky start with the ups and downs of the medicine for the disease, and another solid year away from the Boss From Hell (who I was dreaming about last night; it was a nightmare actually), I feel like I am gaining traction and steadily moving towards a calmer, simpler version of “Ragdoll.” Call her version 3.50.

What’s on deck for this year? Well, I’ve got to lose some weight. After a year off and on and off an on prednisone, and a full two years into my tragic hip’s recovery, it’s time to get serious about the weight I’ve gained. I know everyone has this goal but I’m going to try to make it a reality. I’ve got my health almost under control; it’s time to stop being so lazy about it.

The other main revolution involves writing: I want to finish the first draft of this big story I’ve been working on; the one I’m workshopping at Humber (got my first note from my mentor yesterday; it was kind of scary!). In order to at least give this the old college try, I’m going to have to stop watching so much TV (noooo!) and cut down on the movies (nooooo!) but the writing time has to come from somewhere.

Lastly, I’m going to try not to complain so much. Those of you who know (and I hope love) me know that I complain a lot. A LOT. Perhaps more than any relatively healthy, happy and perfectly normal person should. It’s just what I do and it’s got to stop, maybe not all at once, but I’m certainly going to try to be more aware of it and approach everything with an open mind. Let’s hope this one even makes it to January 2nd.

And finally, although this isn’t my own personal revolution, it’s more about my RRHB, as he stops working and embarks upon the giant and massive project that is the renovation of our house, I’m going to do less nagging and not worry so much about the money. He needs some time and space to both finish this project and to find out what he wants to do beyond the rock and roll, which may or may not happen this year, but it certainly needs to while he’s still young enough to make the change.

How about you all out there? Any Revolutions on your fronts?

The Last Resort

Whew. Are we ever, ever glad to be home from Cuba. As my RRHB said, “Wanting to be home isn’t the way to end a holiday.”

In short, the good: the beach, which is stunningly beautiful, the island, which is hauntingly the same as its almost frozen in time with its steadily decaying buildings, its old cars, and its strangely ironic absence of American anything.

We visited some amazing things: the caves where we snorkeled underground, the city of Trinidad, Havana, an old ranch run by a man born in the very house where we had lunch, whose history was translated for us by a youngster from Montreal, and saw Che’s memorial at Santa Clara. Oh, and the highlight for me? Seeing Hemingway’s house in Havana, spectacular. We also spent a wonderful couple of days on the beach at Varadero. One afternoon, we walked for hours in the ocean, sort of half-floating along enjoying the sunshine and each other’s inexplicable good moods.

The bad: anything and everything about the “resort,” the food, abysmal, the room, smelled like mould and had terribly uncomfortable beds, the fact that Conquest, the “reputable” tour company forgot to mention that we had to pay for our meals in Havana, how everyone in the country is so starved for tips that they dance for the tourists while we gorge ourselves on buffets of food that very few could ever afford or have the means to buy. We felt awful. As my RRHB said, “I’m going to feel guilty about this for years.”

The downright ugly: our hotel in Havana was awful. And we spent our last days in Cuba deathly ill, both of us aching more for home than for the glorious sunshine that seemed to cater to us the entire week we were there. The meals that made us sick, which was just about every day at the buffet. We spent our anniversary night sleeping in a room that smelled faintly of urine in two single beds. How romantic.

The strange: the two days that it rained, we were on a bus (doing the Three Cities tour, Santa Clara, Cienfuego and Trinidad), and then in a jeep driven by a maniacal Italian man who spoke no English, which didn’t, in the least, stop him from trying to communicate with us, where we did a Nature Tour that involved driving through the backyards of some of the poorest people I had ever seen, with garbage strewn all over, picked through by packs of homeless dogs, as we used up more of the country’s natural resources to carry us through a version of the ‘true’ Cuba. We also went to see the Tropicana show in Havana, which is a spectacle to end all spectacles.

On the whole, we were very disappointed in the “resort,” and even more so by our hotel in Havana, which was so far away from the centre of the city, where all the action is, that we had to take a cab that cost 15 CUC, the equal of about $20.00 Cdn just to get back from the day we spent in the old section.

But the most heartbreaking part of it all? How much time is wasted on buses, from the airport the the resorts, from the resort to Havana, a two hour journey, stretched out to over four hours by the time everyone is dropped off and picked up, wasting almost an entire day of a seven day trip. What is that?

But I read 4 books, 3 were advance reading copies, so I can’t talk about them until they’re published and the last was a really bad chicklit novel by Jane Green called Mr. Maybe, which takes my reading to 69. Fingers crossed I get to 70 by tomorrow.

Happy New Year everyone! It’s so good to be home! Hope you all have a good night to night and I look forward to hearing all about your New Year’s Revolutions!

We’re All Going On A Winter Holiday!

I feel like a girl! After being so busy over the last little while, so much so that I can barely remember what it’s like not to be so busy I can’t hear myself think, we’re leaving in less than 24 hours for our trip to Cuba.

So, yesterday I had my eyebrows waxed, got my toenails painted, bought some travel-sized Dermalogica products (so expensive, so worth it), and am about to start packing. But the best news of all? My lovely and sneaky RRHB bought me a digital camera! Now, in the New Year, My Tragic Right Hip will be fresh and improved with colour photographs…

And he surprised me, which is very, very hard to do.

Awww.

Now, I’m not even taking my crackberry to Cuba with me, so there will be no blogging from the holiday. Expect great long, tome-like posts upon my return. Safe travels everyone and happy holidays. We’ll be back on the 30th.

Blogging Killed The Movie Critic

Am I responsible for this? I don’t think that blogs, fanzines, fan sites, etc., have killed movie criticism but maybe brought it out of its ivory tower, if such a thing even existed for pop culture.

Personally, I write movie reviews here because I love films so much that I want to remember what I liked and what I didn’t like. It’s also a way for me to hone my “talent” (and I use that word lightly) for when I do have reviews to write for “outside” publications, which, to be perfectly honest, I wish I had more to write on a regular basis.

‘Tis The Season

For a while, back in high school, in the first few years after I lost my mom, I still clung to the wonder and joy of the holidays. We’re not a religous family so it was the traditions that sort of made Christmas memorable. Each year we’d make an ornament for the tree, we’d get to open one present on Christmas Eve, we’d have pancakes, open our presents, have a big family meal, see everyone. I miss that.

Annnnywaaay.

We’ve been listening to Christmas songs this evening. My favourite? The Bing Crosby / David Bowie “Peace on Earth / Little Drummer Boy.” Then, “Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues. Then, The Pretenders, “2000 Miles.”

Now you…

Page 123 Meme

Totally stealing this meme from Orange Blossom Goddess over at The Library Ladder, but here goes, the Page 123 Meme:

1. Grab the book closest to you.
2. Open to page 123, scroll down to the 5th sentence.
3. Post the text of next 3 sentences on your blog.
4. Name of the book and the author.
5. Tag 3 People.

Ragdoll’s Participation:

#1. Done, pulled it out of my knapsack.
#2. Book is now cracked open on my lap.
#3. A couple of times he said, “The wife would kill me if she knew how much I paid for that.”
#4. By the Time You Read This, Giles Blunt

And for the tagging, I’m totally not going to choose three people but any of you readers out there with a book in your back pocket, take it away!