Little Women, and growing up.

When I think of Christmas movies, Little Women is one of the first that comes to mind. I know it's not strictly a Christmas film, but many of its major moments are nestled within Christmas celebrations; also, there is snow and carols and wintryness, all of which lends to the Christmas feel, even if it isn't a strictly antipodean interpretation of the season.

I watched it again on Monday afternoon with my mum and little brother, and I was amazed by how much power this film has to pull me back into my childhood. It's like a massive rush of memories. Not only can I quote virtually every line, but I recall all the thoughts and feelings and emotions this film and the book (which I have read at least a dozen times) have ever evoked.

I remember where I was when I started reading Little Women that first time, and I also remember who I was. I remember recognising my graceful sister Andrea in Meg, my sweet sister Lauren in Beth. My brother Nick -- though he never liked the comparison -- was definitely Amy, hilarious and quirky and confident and impetuous (and a little dissatisfied with his nose). I remember feeling that first spark of kinship with Jo, wanting to be great and do great things but being hampered by an abundance of flaws. We share so many of the same dreams, Jo and I, and so many of the same failings -- even down to the too-large hands and a hatred of posh parties. Of course, I never turned down the proposal of a creative, handsome neighbour who was once my best friend. But I'll forgive Jo that.

Actually, from that point on, the film version of Little Women always broke my heart a little. As a teenager, I wanted to stop the movie halfway through, at the Christmas scene when Father comes home from the war and though you know John Brooke is going to steal Meg away, he hasn't actually done it yet. I wanted it to stop before Laurie and Jo become something more than best friends and then (just as quickly) something infinitely less. I wanted it to stop before Beth dies and Laurie becomes a ratbag with horrible facial hair and Jo realises that she doesn't fit in anywhere and she probably never will. The second half always seemed to me to be too sober, too sad.

This time, however, I found my heart resonating more with that second half of the film. Suddenly it seemed to me to be incredibly honest. Yes, my childhood and teen years were very much like the early half of Little Women -- full of adventures and creativity and small sorrows and large joys -- but being a grown-up is so much more like the second half. People change and friendships dissolve. Life turns out differently than you expected.

You know, I always resented Professor Bhaer because he wasn't Laurie. This time round, I realised Professor Bhaer was right for Jo at the right time. She could have married Laurie and, though she refused to believe so, they could have actually been happy together. After all, she did love him; she just didn't understand that there are all different kinds of love, and she was looking for something in words she'd recognise, words she'd write herself to make the perfect happy ending. I think it took her several more years of life and learning to realise that love is not as simple as the fairytales make out, and yet in other ways it's simpler. Professor Bhaer wasn't the second choice; he was Jo's first choice, made once she knew how to recognise real love.

I used to think that the first half of Little Women is all joy, and the second half is all sorrow and a mature sort of resignation to dreams unfulfilled. Yet the second half of Little Women is the portion where the dreams actually do come true. Meg becomes the little wife and mother she was always in training for. Amy travels to Europe and marries the rich fellow she once imagined. And Jo's story and her heart both find a safe haven. But in amongst all the dreams-come-true are the dreams shattered; grief walks with the dreams, hand in hand.

This time, I finally understood that. Being a kid was super; life was chock full of joy. Being an adult is different. There is just as much joy, but it's of a deeper kind -- and it's woven in with the sorrow, too.

Sometimes you just have to look harder to see.

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Conversations:

Laura Elizabeth -- you rescued my post from a commentless death, bravo! I'm so glad you're loving the celebrations this year. I'm a big fan of celebrationishness. Tell your dad the blogging world is waiting with hald breath.

Project 52: twenty-six

-- hello, Christmas!

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Conversations:

Katie -- I usually run from discussing anything slightly controversial on my blog, but it's a great exercise for articulating passionate topics while trying to steer clear of purely emotive arguments. And as you said, it feels more practical than signing an email petition.

Lauren -- haha! I'd be tongue-tied if ever I came face to face with a PM (current or former). Remember George Fitzgarden? ;)

Laura Elizabeth -- anxiously awaiting hair pictures and updates!! How does it feel to be so hair-light? PS. From what I know, they changed the title to Good Christian Belles in the US, but we Australians are obviously more edgy ;).

Marie -- :)

Rebecca Simon -- that's the frustrating thing, isn't it? Those who rant and rave and basically throw public tantrums don't do anything for their cause, but people who graciously defend their point of view definitely deserve respect.

Daniel S -- thanks for your comment; was good to hear from you! I am still searching to find the middle ground on the choice argument. On the one hand, I think it is impossible to demand that people live according to Christian morality when they don't worship or respect the God who crafted that morality (for example, if Australia somehow became a Muslim state, Christians would resent being compelled to follow Islamic law). However, I have heard just as compelling argument that if we truly love people, then we will only desire the best for them, and if we are Christians, we obviously believe that best is God's standard for society and family.

Anonymous -- thanks for pointing out the typo, anon. I fixed it -- just for you.

Harriet Coombe wrote: Just wanted to let you know that the media (of which I am unfortunately a part!) has got the immunisation story wrong. The media has been deliberately omitting the fact that if you are a conscientious objector (and actually sign a form to say you are) you will still get the family tax benefit. This is good to know, Harri! Thanks for sharing this info. I included it here so that others may benefit from your insight.

Meaghan -- I like you.

Freedoms, rights, and television shows with naughty words in the title:

Like (I suspect) many Christians, I was annoyed and a bit disgusted when Channel 7 started showing commercials for an upcoming program, Good Christian B*tches. There's not much that isn't offensive about that title or the concept behind the show. However, when I received an email invitation to sign a petition for the program's removal, I declined. My Dad put it most succinctly: "No one has to watch the program. If they find it offensive, they should turn the TV off."

He's right on a number of levels. First, the goal of television networks is not to keep religious groups happy; it is to establish a wide viewership and make money. It shouldn't surprise any of us when networks promote programs they believe will be sensational, juicy, or offensive. What's more, creating hype around a show (whether it's negative or positive) seems only to generate more interest in the program. Think what the disappearance of Charlie Sheen did for the (utterly stupid and degrading) sitcom Two and a Half Men. People who had never watched the show in the past tuned in to see what kind of a job Ashton Kutcher did of replacing the ticking time bomb that is Charlie Sheen.

Secondly, freedom of choice and freedom of speech are key elements of any democratic society. This freedom translates into the freedom to create programs that some may find offensive, as well as the freedom to show these programs. However, it also gives us the freedom not to watch them.

It is when that choice is removed that we should take offense.

Consider the current debates surrounding hot-button topics like abortion and gay marriage. While we may all possess freedom to argue for or fight against constitutional changes, as Christians we should probably stop being shocked when a secular government makes non-Christian choices. The focus of our government at the moment is on individual rights -- like the right of a woman to determine whether she will keep her unborn child or the right of a homosexual couple to marry and receive the same support as a heterosexual couple.

Both of these concepts are areas which Christians have typically taken a stand against, appealing to the government on grounds entrenched firmly in Christian doctrine and ethics. If the government does not subscribe to a similar set of doctrine and ethics, these will likely be pleas falling on deaf ears. However, here is my beef: if the government is going to promote freedom of choice and the rights of individuals, how can they fight for the rights of some groups and inhibit the rights of others? I'm referring in particular to the new move to remove family benefits from parents who have not immunised their kids. Regardless of how you feel about the pros and cons of immunisation, this is a serious blow to the rights and freedoms espoused by democracy. While not outwardly depriving parents of their right to choose immunisation or no, it is, nevertheless, a form of bullying. You may choose option A or B, the government is saying, but if you choose B, we are going to make life more difficult for you.

This is not only undemocractic, but it is illogical. A democratic government cannot fight for the rights of some without upholding the rights of all. Where's the consistency?

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Conversations:

Laura Elizabeth -- HAVE YOU CUT YOUR HAIR?? Do not leave me hanging on this!

Samantha R -- welcome back to the world! ;) We've missed you!

Cara -- it was fun, not at all serious. I recommend you check out PluggedIn.Com for any potential problems with the movie; they're always my go-to for appropriateness :). Do let's meet halfway in Italy! I really haven't travelled much (I'm certain New Zealand scarcely counts as "outside Australia").

Lauren -- rasesco!! Sounds like reggae music crossed with baroque; that's my interpretation of what rasesco might mean :).

Katie -- the internet is definitely the place to meet excellent friends :).

Bek Axe -- you would have loved tattooed Twilight guy, I'm sure.

A blogger date with Laura:

After the happy success of our first ever meet-up (success mainly being, Laura pointed out, that I did not prove to be a fifty-year-old man masquerading as a slightly nerdish blogging lady), last Wednesday was high time for Laura and I to hang out again. We met at our halfway point (I like to think of it as Asia-in-Brisbane) in order to see The Three Musketeers, eat lunch, and chat.

I'd already seen The Three Musketeers and had thought it was merely okay. This time -- perhaps both because I knew what to expect and because I wasn't expecting something else entirely (as I was the first time round) -- I really enjoyed it. A rollicking adventure, long-haired men wielding swords, entirely anachronistic air travel technology... what's not to love? Also there was a rather cute romance between the adorably goofy king of France and his sweet queen, plus a 'hey it's that guy!' moment with the great Craig from Doctor Who. And the soundtrack is beautiful; it's gone straight onto my iTunes wishlist.

The movie, however, was just one part of our happy hangout. We were also somehow imbued with amazing new friend attraction skills that day. While Laura was elsewhere, a burly tattooed guy outside the cinemas struck up a conversation with me about movies, and when I asked what he was going to see, he said gruffly, 'That Twilight thing.'
'A bit of a romance lover, hey?' I asked.
He looked surprised. 'Is that what it is?' and he grinned -- possibly embarrassed?

In the ticket queue, we fell into conversation with a grandmotherly type who was seeing the latest Twilight installment -- for the second time. We were suddenly glad we hadn't let loose any Twilight snark because she was a rabid fan -- a true zealot. She spent the entire queue time defending her choice -- and the choice of everyone outside the typical demographic of sixteen-year-old-girls -- to love vampires. She was definitely entertaining.

Then as we hit the food court, a strange small girl came up and attached herself to us -- I mean literally attached. She grabbed hold of my hand and began walking along with us, occasionally turning to stare at me with somewhat unsettling seriousness. We finally delivered her to her (possible) parents, but not before we had broken away once and she had joined us again. I don't know what was in the air that day.

In spite of our random encounters with strangers, we also found lots of time to talk. We covered a bunch of kindred topics, ranging from books to movies, from 3:10 to Yuma to Doctor Who, from blogging to Shakespeare, from study to church, from the excellence of our mums to the geeky chic that is Ira Glass. It was so much fun that I basically forgot I was supposed to be writing an essay, and I only yanked myself out of the cafe chair at the latest possible minute. Thank you, happy little world of blogging, for introducing me to such a lovely new friend!

PS. Laura has written about our blogging date -- or, to use her cool neologism, blate -- over at her blog. I made sure I wrote my post before reading hers, just because it's fun to see how two people record the same event.

PPS. Please note Laura's beautiful long hair. I'm somewhat jealous.

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Conversations:

Jessica -- I imagine I might go back someday because ultimately I like the idea of facebook; I just don't like how I use it. So I guess I won't be waiting for facebook to change. I'll be waiting for me to change before I head back. Right now I'm appreciating the freedom of this boundary :).

Thelittlebluefishy -- Hey there! I love meeting new blog peeps (also, your username is just adorable). I know what you mean; facebook is definitely one of the best ways to keep in touch with overseas friends. I think that's why it was such a big deal for me to leave. I miss that! But you're right; sometimes it can feel like such a time-sucker.

Laura Elizabeth -- that's absolutely what I miss most about facebook, too: those little everyday things (I love reading status updates! Probably why I like twitter so much). And here's a confession: I tracked you down on facebook! Of course, such a course of action is now irrelevant to me. Lucky we have email (and texts and blogging and livejournal...). PS. Yes! I did make the little cottage. Only now I want to smash it and let everybody eat bits of it, and it's supposed to hold out till Christmas!

Rebecca Simon -- just do what you feel is best for you, your communication, your life, and your friendships. Facebook is an awesome tool and a magical land of communicationly joy. I'm just not that great at it :).

Katie -- that's my biggest complaint. Facebook isn't the problem; my laziness is. It's too easy for me to observe without interacting. But I love that facebook turns everyday friends into internet ones, and vice versa. It's such an easy way to communicate info bites.

Meaghan -- thank you for getting my dorky sense of humour. I love you!

Oh, facebook.

Two months ago I decided to switch off facebook. In all honesty, I thought it'd been longer than that. It feels longer. But it's been an interesting experiment, and one I've really enjoyed. I haven't noticed productivity levels increase in incredible proportions. I haven't evolved into an internet hippie (tumblr, twitter, blogging, livejournal... it's all still there). But I do feel simultaneously more connected and less connected to my friends.

If that confuses you, don't worry. I'm confused, too.

What I'm possibly learning from all this is that being away from facebook cuts me out of the little everyday odds and ends of my friends' lives. I miss lurking my friends' pictures. I miss knowing who is dating who (whom?). I miss getting invitations to events like barbecues and parties and church things and whatnot (because everybody is totally on facebook right and so why would we email or text or GASP send a paper invitation?). I miss watching hilarious comment conversations swing back and forth. Basically, I miss eavesdropping on my friends' lives.

On the other hand, even though I've been pathetic at emailing (and visiting and calling and letter-writing and texting), what little communication there is has been of a higher quality. It's like my friend-scope has narrowed. I see less, but I get to see it in more detail. I know who my closest friends are because they're the ones I contact outside of facebook. And to tell you the truth, I'm realising I don't need four hundred friends. My immediate and extended family, my little handful of best girlfriends, my buddies, and my long-distance friends whom I treasure: these are enough-and-more for me.

It doesn't mean I don't sometimes wish I was back on facebook. It's fun being in the loop! And I will probably be back looping it up again someday. But not just yet. Last week I felt my resolve slipping. I'd made contact with some friends from uni and they suggested keeping in touch via facebook. I took a great photography class and the instructor said there was a closed facebook group only open to workshop participants. I got scared that people would forget I exist if I'm not right up in their face(book)s. But then my friend Carla posted this and it reminded me all over again why sometimes it's good to do without, even if only for a season.

The end (for now).

Oh, and I didn't have any pictures of facebook laying around my computer, so I took this. That's my face, with a book. Har har you see what I did there? I'm obviously so funny.

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Conversations:

Un -- I've had a hard enough time keeping up with my own socialness! I think I did so much last week, though, that this week is going to be very quiet by comparison.

Lauren -- hahaha! You little lurker. I promise there will be more pictures soon.

Project 52: twenty-five

-- happy candy-covered gingerbread houses!

PS. Sorry I think I fell off the world and it's taken me six days to clamber back on and oh my almost-holidays can be quite exhausting I had no idea but I do have things to blog to you all about etcetera etcetera.

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Conversations:

Laura Elizabeth -- YES! That is a brilliant idea; I'll work my way through my holiday to-do list. And I still have pictures from our blogging date/blate to post!

Lauren -- done. There WILL BE PICTURES.

Katie -- I agree; it's fun to see how others view the world through their own lenses :).

Un -- yes, her teeth are so adorable! Dad said last night, "They suit her" :).

Carla -- I haven't met your baby girl, so we're even in our sadness :(.

Cara -- yay for holidays!

Samantha R -- looks like pictures are everyone's favourite :).

Rach da Axe -- dude, CONGRATS on being finished for the year. Isn't it such a great feeling?

Done.

-- well, virtually done, and I feel as happy as my precious little niece looks. Also, allow me to digress for a moment and point out those two teeny baby teeth. I defy you to show me anything cuter.

So yes, uni for the year is basically finished. I say basically because I do have one more essay due in a fortnight, but it's not too long and (I hope) not too difficult, and all the really big papers and deadlines were done and dusted on Friday. It's a nice feeling, and you can tell I've turned my self-editor off for the holidays (or a few days, at least) because there were four 'ands' in that last sentence alone and I'm leaving them there.

That's (almost) that, and my self-imposed short&sweet blog pseudo-hiatus is over, leaving me free to post as much as I want. Of course -- because there's always an of-course -- I now have blogging stage fright and can't remember all the marvellous things I thought I really positively had to tell you.

So while I find my feet again, the floor is yours, friends. What should I chat about? What do you want to know? What do you want to see pictures of? This is my little wooden chest of letters to you all; feel free to demand posts on anything you like.

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Conversations:

Mothercare -- we really do. There are some pretty cool spots around here.

Un -- we'll have to go there!

Lauren -- that's one of the better ones; it was fun to learn more about my camera.

Samantha R -- it requires more forethought than more spontaneous snapshots, doesn't it? Plus you need your tripod handy and all that jazz.