A few weeks ago, I went to the screening of Pulp Fiction at the Alamo Draft House. I was excited to see the movie in the theater. To be honest, I can't remember if I saw it in the theater the first time, but even if I did, I probably didn't get the subtleties of the film and really just thought all the shooting and fucks the movie used were amazing. Because I mean, they are amazing, but I'm older now. More mature. Yeah, that's it.
On an odd but serious note, I think this was apparent in the connection I felt with Samuel L. Jackson's character Jules. I know that may sound crazy. I don't shoot people for a living. Arguably, I don't cuss as much. The N word is definitely not dropped from my lips outside of singing along to Jay-Z or Kendrick alone in my car. But what rang true for me was the end.
No, not the part about the bacon. While Jules makes a point that pigs are filthy animals, I can't help but turn around and eat bacon. It's too delicious to pass up. The part I'm referencing is about walking the earth. Now, I don't have a bad motherfucker wallet to fund walking the earth, but Jules' lines about eyes being wide open about wanting to be a better person stood out.
2017 was a trying year for me. The year felt like a beautiful pair of shoes that pinched and left my feet throbbing by the end of the night. It was the year where I feel I stumbled a bit more than usual. Hell, the year started with my right leg in a boot from an actual fall. My book series was canceled. I fell prey to the third-year tenure stress, etc. Nothing was horrible, but there were only small glimmers of really good. My husband. My family. My friends. My dogs. All good. Yasmin's funk. Not so good. Because I was literally in a funky mood. Funky foot. Funky. Funky. Fucker shit funk. But fuck that funk.
2018 is about wanting to be better. If Jules can be a bad motherfucker and spare Honey Bunny and Gotta-Pee-Yolanda, then I can go back to finding a balance. I can "walk" my own earth and return to my glass half full optimism. I can be better. Right now, I don't know what that entails. I still haven't found the time to write more. I haven't read as much as I would like. But, I've been obsessed with fitness. The gym is meditative for me. My classrooms are lighter. Happier. I feel happier. Lighter. And, it's not just the lbs around my middle. I don't know if it's my excitement, or my students are better, maybe a bit of both, but I don't dread them as much as last semester. The positives have by far outweighed the negatives so far.
So in the movie's final scene. As Jules, Honey Bunny, Gotta-Pee-Yolando, and Vincent stood around holding guns at each other. I thought, "I want to be the shepherd."
On an odd but serious note, I think this was apparent in the connection I felt with Samuel L. Jackson's character Jules. I know that may sound crazy. I don't shoot people for a living. Arguably, I don't cuss as much. The N word is definitely not dropped from my lips outside of singing along to Jay-Z or Kendrick alone in my car. But what rang true for me was the end.
No, not the part about the bacon. While Jules makes a point that pigs are filthy animals, I can't help but turn around and eat bacon. It's too delicious to pass up. The part I'm referencing is about walking the earth. Now, I don't have a bad motherfucker wallet to fund walking the earth, but Jules' lines about eyes being wide open about wanting to be a better person stood out.
2017 was a trying year for me. The year felt like a beautiful pair of shoes that pinched and left my feet throbbing by the end of the night. It was the year where I feel I stumbled a bit more than usual. Hell, the year started with my right leg in a boot from an actual fall. My book series was canceled. I fell prey to the third-year tenure stress, etc. Nothing was horrible, but there were only small glimmers of really good. My husband. My family. My friends. My dogs. All good. Yasmin's funk. Not so good. Because I was literally in a funky mood. Funky foot. Funky. Funky. Fucker shit funk. But fuck that funk.
2018 is about wanting to be better. If Jules can be a bad motherfucker and spare Honey Bunny and Gotta-Pee-Yolanda, then I can go back to finding a balance. I can "walk" my own earth and return to my glass half full optimism. I can be better. Right now, I don't know what that entails. I still haven't found the time to write more. I haven't read as much as I would like. But, I've been obsessed with fitness. The gym is meditative for me. My classrooms are lighter. Happier. I feel happier. Lighter. And, it's not just the lbs around my middle. I don't know if it's my excitement, or my students are better, maybe a bit of both, but I don't dread them as much as last semester. The positives have by far outweighed the negatives so far.
So in the movie's final scene. As Jules, Honey Bunny, Gotta-Pee-Yolando, and Vincent stood around holding guns at each other. I thought, "I want to be the shepherd."
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