I know, I know, finally!

It's been ages, hasn't it? Well, time for a proper blog update. This'll be a long, long doozy.

I guess I should start with what I've been up to the last few weeks. Well, in August I dyed my hair red. It was sort of an out-of-the-blue idea, and now I'm quite enjoying being a faux-ginger so I think it's going to stay that way for awhile.

Fake-gingy McGee!

TIFF (the Toronto International Film Festival) came to Toronto in early September. I'd always been in the city during the festival, but never bothered to go to any screenings, which is silly because movies are essentially my life. I decided with my limited budget that I'd see the film adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro's novel Never Let Me Go.

I hadn't read the book though, and things were getting down to the wire. I'm kind of adamant in reading the book first when it comes to film adaptations. Yes, usually the book is better, but after seeing so many adaptations over the years, you start to realize how difficult it can be to capture a novel within the short screen-time a film limits you to, and you grow an appreciation for what filmmakers are able to do with the material they're given.

A few days before the screening, I rushed to the bookstore and picked up a copy of the book, and devoured it in time for the screening, finishing it the night before. The screening was early the next morning, and I foolishly stayed out late that night, exhausting myself and without even realizing it, my emotional state.

I met up with my friend Jakk and her friend Carmel early in the morning with some Sprite and Rolaids to settle my sleep-deprived tummy, and we waited in the veerry looooong line to see the film. When it finally started, I was so tense and shaky and nervous. Many factors probably: I was exhausted, I had the book fresh in my mind and was sitting there critically waiting for pivotal moments to materialize before me. After awhile I just let the book's material slide to the side and I focused on the performances.

Carey Mulligan and Andrew Garfield were ridiculous, and I mean this in the most complimentary way. The way they portrayed their characters, Kathy and Tommy, respectively, was really incredible. They captured the naivete and childlike frustration, awe, and sadness of the book so perfectly and made it so human. I don't want to go into the plot too much, not that I feel it would give it all away, but I just really feel like everyone should see this movie with blind eyes. Even if you've read the book, it's a separate experience. They (the book, and the film) really make wonderful companions for each other. Yes, the plotline was tweaked and changed and certain moments were dramatically different or altogether left out. But Ishiguro himself was apart of the film's process so I think it did the book justice but also worked as its own entity.

When the final lines of narration were spoken and the credits started rolling, I lost it. I wasn't expecting to be such a mess, but I was really hanging by a thread, super-tired and overwhelmed by everything I'd just taken in. I started bawling and mumbling, "it's so sad! It's so sad!" It was really embarrassing. The middle-aged woman sitting behind me grabbed my shoulders and said, "don't worry, it's just a movie!"

Gosh, if only I could see it that way!

Needless to say, I'm still wrecked 2 weeks later. Mark Romanek, the director, has a habit of doing this to me. I felt similarly when I saw his first film, One Hour Photo. I wish he'd make something uplifting, ha!

Well, if you didn't feel like reading that, here's an accurate summary in picture form:

For things in the "not-so-emotional" department, and perhaps what you came here for, here's the fashion-y side of things.

I wore this to the screening.

[ Forever 21 cardigan and tights, H&M dress, vintage Salvatore Ferragamo shoes. ]

I guess I quite like stripes.

In other news, my birthday is tomorrow. At first I was feeling pretty blue about it. I'm turning 21, and it feels like, "okay, I'm in my 20s now, I should really buckle down and start being productive." And I haven't done that. At all. I have grand ideas for my future but no way of getting to them. Anyway, enough of being philosophical for now, this post is already an emotional rollercoaster.

So I was worried about what to do, but I realized, to heck with it. I'm gonna celebrate. So tomorrow is a day entirely for myself. I'm going to get a manicure, shop, drink too much tea and try to forget entirely about the fact that I am another year older and at essentially the same place I was a year ago.

As far as a wishlist is concerned, I couldn't really think of anything.

I got these shoes as a gift from my mom. I mean, I go shopping and there are heaps of things I see and like, but I'm starting to get really picky I think. I don't even know. I'm sure I'll find lots of things tomorrow to buy and enjoy, but I don't have anything too specific on my mind.

My parents took me for dinner last night which was quite a gift enough, considering food is one of my foremost passions in life, really really. I ate until I felt like vomiting and that is really one of the greatest feelings, isn't it?

Oh dessert, you are my life.

Ah well, I'm off to the city for an indeterminable amount of time. Going to see some friends, new and old, and have a hopefully lovely time. I hope you all have a good weekend.

P.S. I've changed the layout around. I also went back and untagged all of my old posts. They're still there, I just wanted a fresh start.

Thanks for reading,

Hannah