Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you happy couples out there, and happy Saturday to everyone else. It’s still a perfectly good weekend, despite the freezing weather and horrifying gale-force winds that are apparently trying to blow my apartment/house down. Adding to this delightful stead of frigid misery: the heater appears to have checked out, probably after realizing it would be working harder than it ever has before. The lazy bastard.
I won’t bother focusing on the details of today’s more romantic bits (steak dinner, gifts exchanged, and so on). The relaxation, however, is worth talking about. Brianne and I watched the latter half of The Legend of Korra Book 4: Balance. I feel like I need a vacation after that just to fully process everything that went on. Realistically, papers could (and probably have) been written on the subject.
The Legend of Korra succeeds in many of the same ways that Avatar: The Last Airbender did before it. At its surface, Korra is a cartoon children (and people who are children at heart) can enjoy easily. Throughout each season, there is a perfect balance of comedy, drama, romance, and sadness. While the show follows the latest incarnation of the Avatar, Korra, it also boasts an exceptionally strong ensemble. Characters representing all walks of life are present and play large roles in the series. Having such varied representation is great for children (and, again, people who are children at heart) because it really emphasizes the point that anyone can accomplish great things, whether those are great acts of good or great acts of evil.
Without spoiling anything, I can say say I was genuinely surprised and pleased with the series’ ending moments.
The short of it is this: if you’re the sort of person who enjoys an immersive experience, filled with remarkably talented actors playing such a wide variety of characters as they make their way through compelling narratives, then this is a show worth checking out. I feel as though I need to write more on this topic when I can really dedicate my focus on it.
Now if you’ll all excuse me, I need to wrap myself in a cocoon of covers and not freeze to death.
Just when you all thought you were safe from my horrible love of alliterative titles, here we are. This is typically what Saturday posts should look like for Hundred Days of Self-Imposed Suffering 2.0, but I got caught up in my earlier post and so this became secondary. It works out because writing that post was surprisingly relaxing, which is sort of the point of Saturdays.
Except the ones I also happen to work. Those aren’t redeemable.
Sundays are for reflecting on how much of a fiasco I managed to turn the previous week into, and so I’m choosing to prepare for the next week by relaxing on Saturday. A little writing, a little reading, some TV, and maybe some meditation. That last one hasn’t happened in a while. My sanity needs to be repaired occasionally, if not for me then for the folks who read this mess. I’d rather not end up letting a blog post loose on the world that could look like my version of any celebrity’s very public mental breakdown. Nobody needs that.
Today has consisted of the following distractions:
- Reading more of In Some Other World, Maybe, which is quickly turning into one of my best whim purchases I’ve made at Barnes & Noble in a long while (a review is doomed to happen eventually, once I finish the book).
- Making adjustments to Unnamed Novel-Project based on suggestions provided by the ever-helpful, ever-brilliant Lindsey, who is one of the beta-readers who helped fuel my madness as I wrote what was Joshua’s Nightmares at the time before it evolved into Joshua Harkin and the Novel-Length Book Title.
- I spent time with two of my adorable
- I treated Brianne and myself to McDonald’s. Don’t judge, damn it. It’s garbage-food, but sometimes I can enjoy garbage-food without too much self-loathing and gastrointestinal distress to follow.
- I watched two stand-up comedy specials. Aziz Ansari and Patton Oswalt. If the walls of a house absorbed the words thrown around near them, my living room would be saturated with expletives and Hobbit-related self-deprecation. Let’s add Nick Offerman to that collection, as now I’m watching him on Netflix as well.
- Apparently I’m going to a bar for some sort of concert-thing tonight.
- Regardless of if I drink at said bar, I see a glass of scotch in my future. Single-malt, eighteen-year-old Glenlivet. It’s the most expensive bottle of liquor that I barely paid for that I own, and frankly I think one of the main ingredients is refined unicorn tears.
- More writing to follow, because I need to make up for being a hilarious failure with progress this past week.
And now I’m going to return to writing because I’ve reached a point where I don’t feel like the writing process with this story is similar to trying to sprint through a bog with giant weights chained to my limbs. Have a delightful Saturday, folks.