the fire, of course, is you.
So, I like to think I am a pretty sane person. I (obviously) love being fannish about things, but I can also, shockingly, spend entire evenings with friends without busting out the nerd too hard (well, depending on the friends!) As much as I joke, I've never genuinely operated under the delusion that fiction is reality, or that I am secret soulmates with Chris Pine or what-have-you.
That said, I feel like everyone has a celebrity or two that they feel a little bit connected to. Not in a crazy "we knew each other on another plane" or "we are destined to meet and be lovers" way, but...you know. I've written and rewritten a few sentences here and can't really come up with something that doesn't sound crazy, but you're picking up what I'm putting down, right? What I'm saying is that I fucking adore Elizabeth Taylor; she was hilarious, intelligent, gorgeous but self-deprecating, strong, and fierce as hell, but still a romantic. I know I mentioned it last summer when I was reading Furious Love, but I just admire the shit out of this woman, and was amazed by how many of the things she said were things I completely agreed with, or wish I'd said myself. We're similar in a lot of (occasionally self-destructive) ways -- not that I would dare to compare myself to Elizabeth freakin' Taylor, but, you know -- and as much shit as she's gotten for how she lived her life, I don't think I'd have done a thing differently.
So, I'm sad today. I did cry a little bit, and though I tried to make myself feel crazy for it, I think I'm allowed. We were obviously never going to meet, but it's still difficult to grasp the fact that she's not alive anymore. I just watched Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for no reason the other day, just because I needed some Taylor/Burton in my life, and I'd forgotten how much I love that film. It was still totally fresh in my mind and it's crazy to think that someone so passionate and vibrant can just...die.
I am glad it was today, though. I spent the night at my friend Laura's last night, after a night of wine and girl talk and general good times. I woke up and thought to myself, bizarrely, that London had never felt more like Toronto. Laura's neighbourhood essentially is the Annex, to the point that it's bizarre, and walking around I was just in a great mood and everything just felt very much like home. When I got back to my place I went on a decorating binge, putting up pictures & posters I'd collected over the past month or so (including one of Elizabeth) and having an apartment dance party despite my extreme wine-induced headache. Then I headed down to the Bluebird to fill out some employment tax forms, and left to find a voice mail from Meghan in Canada. It began, "are you okay?" which sort of alarmed me because for some reason the first thing I thought was someone I knew died in a plane crash (I don't know why my mind went to plane crash -- no one I know was flying!) buuuut then she continued "Elizabeth Taylor died", so that cleared that up.
Anyway, I couldn't believe she'd call long-distance to say that, but I'm so glad! It was nice to hear a human saying it and not just have some terrible shock when I came home to Twitter. It was so unexpected, though, that I just sort of stood on the sidewalk in the sun staring at my phone going, "Wait, what?" and then sort of zombied my way home. (Totally a verb.) It was such an unbelievably perfect London day, though, and if I believed in that sort of thing I'd say it was her coming home and making everything bright and shiny for a bit. It's a nice thought, anyway.
So then my hangover hit me hard and I just took a three-hour nap and had lovely dreams that I was on a beach. It's now not even 10 PM and I'm definitely ready for bed, even though I've still not packed for Oxford! Laura and I are spending the weekend there and I must say I'm looking so forward to getting out of the city and just having a fabulous & silly time.
Now, bed.
And maybe when I get back from Oxford I'll rewatch Cleopatra. (Whatever, you guys can judge me, but I've seen that movie 3 times already and genuinely love it for all its cheese. And the costumes. And the fact that everyone in it is unbelievably gorgeous. And the scene where Elizabeth Taylor rolls out of a carpet. You know, the usual reasons for liking any movie.)
That said, I feel like everyone has a celebrity or two that they feel a little bit connected to. Not in a crazy "we knew each other on another plane" or "we are destined to meet and be lovers" way, but...you know. I've written and rewritten a few sentences here and can't really come up with something that doesn't sound crazy, but you're picking up what I'm putting down, right? What I'm saying is that I fucking adore Elizabeth Taylor; she was hilarious, intelligent, gorgeous but self-deprecating, strong, and fierce as hell, but still a romantic. I know I mentioned it last summer when I was reading Furious Love, but I just admire the shit out of this woman, and was amazed by how many of the things she said were things I completely agreed with, or wish I'd said myself. We're similar in a lot of (occasionally self-destructive) ways -- not that I would dare to compare myself to Elizabeth freakin' Taylor, but, you know -- and as much shit as she's gotten for how she lived her life, I don't think I'd have done a thing differently.
So, I'm sad today. I did cry a little bit, and though I tried to make myself feel crazy for it, I think I'm allowed. We were obviously never going to meet, but it's still difficult to grasp the fact that she's not alive anymore. I just watched Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for no reason the other day, just because I needed some Taylor/Burton in my life, and I'd forgotten how much I love that film. It was still totally fresh in my mind and it's crazy to think that someone so passionate and vibrant can just...die.
I am glad it was today, though. I spent the night at my friend Laura's last night, after a night of wine and girl talk and general good times. I woke up and thought to myself, bizarrely, that London had never felt more like Toronto. Laura's neighbourhood essentially is the Annex, to the point that it's bizarre, and walking around I was just in a great mood and everything just felt very much like home. When I got back to my place I went on a decorating binge, putting up pictures & posters I'd collected over the past month or so (including one of Elizabeth) and having an apartment dance party despite my extreme wine-induced headache. Then I headed down to the Bluebird to fill out some employment tax forms, and left to find a voice mail from Meghan in Canada. It began, "are you okay?" which sort of alarmed me because for some reason the first thing I thought was someone I knew died in a plane crash (I don't know why my mind went to plane crash -- no one I know was flying!) buuuut then she continued "Elizabeth Taylor died", so that cleared that up.
Anyway, I couldn't believe she'd call long-distance to say that, but I'm so glad! It was nice to hear a human saying it and not just have some terrible shock when I came home to Twitter. It was so unexpected, though, that I just sort of stood on the sidewalk in the sun staring at my phone going, "Wait, what?" and then sort of zombied my way home. (Totally a verb.) It was such an unbelievably perfect London day, though, and if I believed in that sort of thing I'd say it was her coming home and making everything bright and shiny for a bit. It's a nice thought, anyway.
So then my hangover hit me hard and I just took a three-hour nap and had lovely dreams that I was on a beach. It's now not even 10 PM and I'm definitely ready for bed, even though I've still not packed for Oxford! Laura and I are spending the weekend there and I must say I'm looking so forward to getting out of the city and just having a fabulous & silly time.
Now, bed.
And maybe when I get back from Oxford I'll rewatch Cleopatra. (Whatever, you guys can judge me, but I've seen that movie 3 times already and genuinely love it for all its cheese. And the costumes. And the fact that everyone in it is unbelievably gorgeous. And the scene where Elizabeth Taylor rolls out of a carpet. You know, the usual reasons for liking any movie.)