Been a long time since I lasted posted. And this time, it has not been for a lack of material. I've been thinking, a lot. A whole lot. Just never really got the chance to put it into words. Now I'm just plain lazy to do so.
So let's talk about something recent. Everyday is an adventure, right? Well, here is another chance for you to get to know a little more about me. I can't tell a story for shit.
Like seriously.
I think I do quite good on paper (or webpage... If you insist on being sooo technical). But in words, I suck! And no, I'm not in one of those self-depreciating moods. It's just the truth.
It's not to say I suck at talking, because.... well, that would probably be the biggest lie of the millennium. My problem is story-telling or relaying or whatever. When I was in primary school I did the oh-so-big mistake of taking part in a story telling contest and I lie not when I say this. It was the most boring 4 minutes of the lives of anybody who cared to pay attention. As if that wasn't enough proof, I thought I might spice up my tutoring classes and get my young students to get interested in reading books so one day, I ventured down the long and dark path of trying to tell them a story from one of the books available.
My god, who terribly that turned out.
Once was enough for me to not to want to do it again..... NEVER!
Then the other day, my father asked about this movie and since the whole car was silent (me, my bro and parents were driving down to KL) so I thought, what the heck, even though this is usually my mom's territory, guess it won't hurt if I tried.
Again, how terribly that turned out.
The movie was The Painted Veil and it tells the story of this young married couple. They go to this very dirty place, the guy gets a disease and dies.
At least, according to me, that's what happened. Upon hearing my excellent account, my brother was baffled beyond his mind as to how horribly a person can tell a story. This is what Wikipedia had to say about it:
Kitty Garstin is a pretty, shallow young woman from a well-to-do London family, under pressure from her parents to find a husband. Soon after she meets him at a party, she marries Dr. Walter Fane , an earnest, socially awkward doctor on leave from China, even though she does not love him. The Fanes move to Shanghai, where Dr. Fane is stationed in a government lab studying infectious diseases. Soon bored, Kitty meets Charles Townsend , a married British diplomat who is a serial womanizer, and has an affair with him. When Walter finds out, he gives her an ultimatum: come with him to the Chinese interior to assist with a cholera epidemic relief effort for which he has volunteered, or face a divorce on the grounds of her adultery. Kitty turns to Townsend to persuade him to divorce his wife and marry her. When Townsend, to Kitty's surprise but not Walter's, refuses to leave his wife for Kitty, she chooses to travel inland with her husband. At first, Walter and Kitty barely speak to each other. Kitty is miserable, with nothing to do. She decides to volunteer at a local orphanage run by French nuns, which her husband visits often outside of his lab work. In this setting Kitty begins to see her apparently-cold husband in a new light, as she learns what a selfless and caring person he can be. The Fanes' marriage blossoms into love. She grows to care about the children at the orphanage, while Walter tends to the sick and looks for a way to stop the spread of the epidemic despite resistance from the populace and the local warlord in the politically torn China of the 1920s. After their reconciliation Kitty learns she is pregnant, but is unsure whether Charlie or Walter is the father. Just as the local cholera problem is coming under control, diseased refugees from elsewhere pour into the area, forcing Walter to set up a refugee camp outside town. Walter contracts cholera and dies, devastating Kitty, who returns to London. Five years later, walking with her young son Walter, Kitty runs into Townsend on the street. Townsend makes small talk with them both for a short while and begins to suggest a meeting with Kitty. However, Kitty rejects his overtures and walks away.
Anyway, my point is I can't tell a story but until then, I still didn't realise that for a fact. I just thought my brother was being awfully mean.
Then just now I was watching this Top 25 Celebrity bla bla bla and I was listening to this woman's recount of a near death experience she had and I just couldn't believe how hard that message hit home.
I can't tell a story for shit. Seriously.
I mean just the thought of having to give myself some intonations give me a fright. Like, you know. It's so freaking childish! You read a book because the book is interesting, NOT because the person who wrote it can read it very well. That's just superficial crap!
I try, oh I do try to do it. When I was trying to tell that story to my students not so long ago. Oh how I tried to make the terrifying parts sound scary and the good parts sound sweet. In the end I ended up telling them what's involved and how it ended and asked them to read it themselves.
Gosh, I'm like a handicap.
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