I saw Saving Grace awhile back, when it first came out on DVD (I don’t have tv so I see everything afterward). Loved it, was saddened by the finale, which was obviously crippled by a network greed storyus interruptus, forcing the writers to shoot their load all at once, quite sloppily & with great – I get the feeling – despair. Just finished watching it again on Netflix (thank you, Netflix; I like you a lot). Still just as annoyed with the ending.
It’s important to remember that this series was about a soul headed for Hell redeeming herself, & that her final choice to sacrifice herself accomplished that. It’s just the lack of build up & the plethora (yes, I used that word) of loose ends that have got everyone frustrated.
I’ve read posts by viewers who feel Hut Flanders’ “death” is irrelevant; I’m undecided. For those wondering how an explosion would kill him if bullets did not, IMO it took an act of good to kill him, rather than an act of malice: the bullets were just Grace having a little fun… I think we all enjoyed it at least a little. But her denial of Flanders’ deal, giving up herself – that was an altruistic, if defiant, act of good.
You ever not know how strongly you feel about something until you actually talk about it on Facebook?
I left Facebook & have been using Tsu fairly exclusively, & have brought about 130 people over with me, although only a handful of them actually use it. Facebook is too convenient. Today I logged into Facebook because someone had messaged me (I get an email when that happens), & it was a very odd experience.
I saved someone’s life once.
In the early 90s, I was at a big party some of my college buddies were throwing, & I pulled a girlfriend out of a car. I hadn’t seen her since graduation, & after a brief reunion at the party, I’d seen her disappear with a guy I knew was bad news. Some stupid sixth sense told me to go rescue her, so I went outside & yanked her drunk ass out of his car & told him to get lost. I told her the party was over for her & I was going to drive her home.
That wasn’t the moment I saved her life though. Ron was a total choad (pretty, witty, & smart… & a big fat misogynist womanizer), but not dangerous.
At the prospect of being taken home, she broke into tears & the whole sordid tale of her life since I’d last seen her spilled out – abusive drug dealer boyfriend who forced a pipe into her face & raped her with beer bottles, desertion by her family, no job, no home. So I took her home with me, to the UH dorms. I was in the apartments, so we had a couch.
Disclaimer: it’s supposed to be tsu, with a little macron over the u, but too bad.
I’ve hated Facebook for a long time but I spend too much of my life there. Most of us do. And as time goes on, there are more & more ads, no longer confined to the sides of the interface but now even clogging up our newsfeeds. And this is after the updated Timeline format which makes just a single post take up your entire fricking monitor so that you can no longer get an overview of what your friends are doing, but are instead forced to have only a single (or sometimes 1.5) post – super big & in your face – at a time. And then there have been all the privacy disrespects. Yes, I’m using a verb as a noun, & Facebook is the inspiration for this. There’s poetry in that, but let’s talk about Tsu.
Tsu is another social platform, in its infancy. Here’s a screenie of what the general interface looks like:
Yeah yeah… I’m in a bad mood. And I probably dropped a bunch of displaced anger on this guy because I’m dealing with a full-on Narcissistic Personality Disorder jerkface for a few more weeks. But I mean it – when you end a friendship, if it ever had anything real to it, you say something to the other person. Say goodbye, for chrissakes. If you don’t, then you’re chickenshit. Sorry, no other word for it. Chickenshit.
It’s been a rough few weeks. Financial disasters, relational disappointments, antagonism from a coworker, social isolation, doom. There’s not really anyone to talk to, not because of a lack of people who care, but rather a lack of people I feel like talking to. The one person I feel might understand has gone away. I know I’ll slowly work my way through this, but overall I’ve felt like I’m slipping back into that old depression. I’ve spoken with my therapists; we go over practical care & solutions. A whole bunch of things I have no motivation to go through the motions of. I might be back to that kind of life where existence comes down to just taking one step, then taking one more.
What’s interesting is a little bit of self esteem, a little gift, that my mind keeps returning to. I was at a fundraiser; one of those snotty $100-$200 per head dinners all the private school kids go to when they’re grown up. There was a table of whores with their pimp, & I thought one of them was one of the most gorgeous girls I’d ever seen in her elegantly elaborate ballgown. My boyfriend’s best friend had brought a date; a beautiful girl who remembered me from high school. We’d met briefly in 9th grade; she’d only been there a little while, but she recognized me & said hello. We ended up at different tables, but later on my boyfriend told me that she had told his buddy that when we were in 9th grade, I was the only person who was nice to her, & she’d never forgotten it.
I keep thinking about that. Makes me smile. I don’t know what it means, after I’ve saved lives, helped dying to the door, acted with honor in spite of abuse, sacrificed for others. The only thing I remember, to warm myself, is that. I don’t know what it means to only remember that. Why has that become the only thing I’ve got?