I’ve come to the resounding conclusion that procrastination is directly linked to cleanliness. Being that when I put off doing undesirable things, like reading Flaubert’s Parrot (which is actually pretty amusing – I mean any one who says ‘I am like a cigar: you have to suck on the end to get me going’ has got my attention…momentarily), things get clean. When there’s uni work to be done – washing the dishes, washing clothes, vacuuming, mopping, spraying and wiping, obviously takes precedence. And so does brushing and walking the dog, and saving those overripe bananas, that are attracting a swarm of fruit flies, and turning them into delicious muffins. Which I will regret later as I eat them for breakfast for five consecutive mornings, and realise that you really can have too many muffins.
There’s also another effective, yet less productive way to distract yourself from reading – watching movies. Any movies. Seriously. I watched ‘The Rock’ in shiny satin pajamas and fairy wings last night because I didn’t think to use my time more wisely. Yet, sometimes watching movies is technically study…ch-yeah, for lazy people who haven’t read the book. And when you have read the book, I swear, sometimes, watching the movie adaption will just make you dumber. Or incensed with inconsolable rage…especially when you watch said adaption in your tutorial and cannot leave, curse, or throw things at the screen. I’ll admit, the novel itself, namely ‘Wide Sargasso Sea’, wasn’t really my cup of tea – but it had its moments and potential to be a more tolerable movie. Man, was I wrong. Just a warning, I am about to go on a spiel about what I was thinking at the time of watching this movie, and having spent a year studying film, which has completely ruined my ignorance and tolerance of flaws, I’m going to sound like a bit of a movie snob….Anyways, when the movie finished the classroom forum was open for discussion – about themes, about inter-textual readings, about stupid stuff like post-colonialism – and all I wanted to talk about was how freaking horrible the actual film was. I, movie critic that I am, (cough, cough) immediately after, whipped out my phone, jumped on IMDB so I could discover who this terrible director was that created this abomination. It was a soapy director, whose main credit was ‘Neighbours’! Ah hah, my inner reviewer was having a field day with this information. The people must know my thoughts! Sure they picked up on the complete miscasting of Rochester. The actor not quite measuring up to the Byronic hero, by way of his face forcing this temperamental emotion similar to that of a toddler, his weak screen presence and how his spindly, pasty body and lack of finesse made the numerous sex scenes quite nauseating…No, but let’s not talk about how repulsive the character of Rochester is, that’s in the book, wasn’t anyone completely put off by the sickly yellow colour grade on all the nature/jungle scenes? The unflattering lighting? The overexposed sky? The way the director so desperately wanted to emulate Terrence Malick in the way he brings nature to life through beautiful cinematography, but ended up with some weird swaying grass, with some obnoxious music over the top? The unnecessary and distracting use of hand held in random dialogue scenes, where the characters are sitting and drinking tea? The overused trope of echoing voices in the characters head and flash cuts as he runs mad into the jungle? No? Are you sure? Damn, I say as I wear my black beret and black turtle neck sweater, stroke my primped grey beard and turn into that obnoxious hack of a movie critic in my local newspaper, whom I so despise, mostly because he completely missed the point of the shaky cam in the Hunger Games (amongst other things). I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t think I’m like that guy, but nevertheless I’ll put away my scathing pen for now and reflect on why I don’t normally do movie reviews.
Hmm…Obviously, I just get too worked up. It’s not healthy.
I’m thinking that maybe I should just read that parrot book now.