My Time With the Master

I have been extremely negligent. For the last few months I have been meaning to write a post about an important subject. Unfortunately I never seemed to get around to it.

But at this moment, as I'm typing these words, I have no access to the internet. While this fact distressed me for a moment, I quickly realized it presented me with a wonderful opportunity: uninterrupted writing time. So I opened a blank document and set myself up for a writing free-for-all. I stared at the blank at the empty white space on my screen for a full five minutes, waiting for words to come. Alas, they are not always ready to play when I am.

And thus I've settled on writing about a rather trite topic instead of the grand one I had hoped for. The good news is that I've been meaning to write about this for months and months.

So here's a post about Sherlock Holmes.

I've mentioned the great detective every now and again in different posts but never in the full detail this fictional man deserves. I've always had an affinity for a good detective story. But honestly, who doesn't? I can not begin to count the number of procedural cop shows I have been addicted to at one time or another. (actually I probably could but it would be a rather long list and I don't feel like admitting to most of them at the moment) And for as long as I can remember, I've been aware of Sherlock Holmes. He's just one of those characters that everyone knows. Like Dracula or Frankenstein or (more recently) Yoda. You don't need to have read the books or seen the movies to be aware that these characters exist.

And so Sherlock has always been there, lurking in the corners of my cultural consciousness. But recently I have pulled him into the spotlight. It probably began with the movie Sherlock Holmes starring the ever alluring Robert Downey, Jr. I was intrigued by how the movie portrayed Holmes and Watson. Here Sherlock was not a stodgy Englishman with overly correct grammar and Watson was not the affable, portly sidekick I'd come to expect. I thought perhaps they were just trying to make these characters new and attractive for a younger audience. Then I happened to watch an interview with the stars of the movie. They explained that the movie was actually more true to the original tales than many of its predecessors This intrigued me. I decided I must read the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's original stories see for myself. But I have a long list of books to be read and Sherlock did not look like it would be moving to the top of it anytime soon.

Then I decided to watch this BBC show I had been hearing about. It's simply called Sherlock and it's a modern take on the classic tales. Hardly an original idea, but I had heard good things about it. Of course I ended up falling in love. For as much as Steven Moffat annoys me, the man is a damned good writer. There are only two seasons of the show right now and only three episodes apiece. The good news is that there are more on the way. The bad news is that they aren't scheduled to go into production until March. (something about the two main actors being busy working on some other project called The Hobbit or whatever) It's quite sad. The fandom waits patiently, though not quietly, for more.

After I finished that series I simply had to acquire The Complete Sherlock Holmes. I mentioned it not too long ago. I've been working at it for quite some time. A few pages here, a short story there. It's been slow yet consistent progress. And I must say that I am quite enjoying it. It's so interesting to compare the image of Sherlock that I've acquired over the years with what was actually written. I beginning to understand why these stories have remained so popular. He is, after all, the most portrayed literary human character in film.

The Fine Line of Forgiveness

My good opinion once lost is lost forever
- Mr. Darcy

I'm afraid I might have more in common with the hero of Pride and Prejudice that just a dislike for public dancing. I've always claimed that I don't hold grudges. But if I'm honest with myself I know that's not entirely  true. Forgiving and forgetting is not as easy as I once thought it was.

When someone hurts me it usually doesn't take me long to forgive them. I know that people make mistakes. And more often than not the hurt inflicted is unintentional. I pride myself on being able to see all sides of an issue. I may not fully sympathize with all sides, but at least I can see where people are coming from. It makes so much easier to forgive when you understand the other party's motives.

It's the forgetting part that I have difficulty with. Whatever they've done, it sticks to them. They've become tainted. I'm unable to see them the way I once did. I may forgive them, but that doesn't mean I have to go on liking them. I don't hate them. I don't resent them. I just no longer like them. It's very difficult to move on and truly forget the hurt someone's caused you.

I have done it before. I'm sure I'll be able to do it again. Time heals all or whatever. But more often than not, once someone has done something to alter my opinion of them, it doesn't change back.

A Comfy Sort of Celebration

a magical world full of bright colors, pie, and dead people

And here it is. A new year. How did I celebrate? I grabbed myself a glass of wine and watched my latest TV series obsession: Pushing Daises. The best/worst part about this show is that it only lasted two seasons and thus there are only 22 episodes. Best because it won't take long to get through the entire thing. Worst because I am absolutely in love with it and already wish there was more. Why do the best shows always get the ax early only to have a few years go by before people start to realize how amazing it was? This show, Firefly, Dead Like Me, etc, etc. I swear if Community becomes one of those shows I will- Well I won't actually do anything. But I will be really upset.

Anyway, the wine disappeared awhile ago and I decided to take a break from Pushing Daises. (since there are so few episodes, one must spread them out to make it last longer) So I pull out my giant book of Sherlock and read that for awhile. Then I filled my fancy wine glass (Marco is its name if you recall) with Sprite (because I'm classy like that) and am drinking it as I type this post at 2 in the morning on the first day of a fresh new year.

So this is how I ring in the new year. No parties. No real celebration. Just me, an overweight cat, a small glass of wine that turned into soda, and some Sherlock Holmes. And you know what? I don't mind it a bit. Don't get me wrong. I love going out and celebrating with my friends. But I'm just as comfortable staying at home by myself with a good book or a good movie. I am an introvert after all.

And this post seems to be rambling and going off in random directions. No real theme or structure to it. I wonder if that a sign of what my life will be like in the year ahead.