What day is this. Thursday? Thursday. OK. Here we are, Thursday! Whoo! It’s another night-shift week at work so I’m all discombobulated. And maybe a little bewitched, bothered and bewildered, who knows. I am told that there will be day-shifts next week for me, so I might become a daytime creature again next week. We’ll see how that works. As is, I’m all switched around. Dad reminds me that all through my childhood, he worked these shifts and it only screwed him up PERMANENTLY, so, thanks for that, Dad. (No, seriously, he really did. He worked swing-shift my whole life. A different shift every week, rotating every three weeks. Days, 4 o’clocks, midnights. Every week something different. And he worked a lot of doubles, because we were poor and he got time and a half for doubles – and double time and a half on holidays. We had a lot of holidays at weird times because we waited until he got home from work. So in case you think I’m from fancy-fancy rich-people stock, you are sorely mistaken. Anyway, to make a long story short – HA HA AMY WHEN HAVE YOU EVER – I have no idea how he did this for thirty-some-odd years. This could explain why my father’s insomnia is legendary, even now. And why when he would call us from work he was SO SO CRANKY.)
However, it is almost BIRTHDAY WEEKEND! so I have a thing to look forward to if I can only make it through five days of work. And by the time you are reading this, I’ve made it through two days, so only three more to go. That’s nice! That’s good. Only three more! I CAN TOTALLY DO THIS.
Oh! Oh, I have a NEWS FLASH from Dad for you all today. It’s IMPORTANT BUSINESS so it’s best you all listen up, yo.
Dad: You’re going to have to get off the Twitter.
Me: What? No, I’m not.
Dad: Yes. It was on the news today.
Me: What was, that Amy has to get off the Twitter? Well, doesn’t that make me feel famous. Oh, on this TV show I was watching last night, someone mentioned Lucy yanking away the football. I’m everywhere on the TV lately, right?
Dad: NO. Stop being FLIPPANT. The NEWS today said that the GOVERNMENT is WATCHING your TWITTERING.
Me: Oh, they’ve always been doing that. I’m not too worried. If they care about the adventures of Dumbcat or me talking books or euphemisms with my friends, I guess they’re pretty bored.
Dad: YOU’RE GOING TO BE ARRESTED.
Me: What? Why am I going to be arrested?
Dad: IT WAS ON THE NEWS.
Me: I think you might have misinterpreted whatever you saw on the news.
Dad: No. NO. You ALL need to get off Twitter. The GOVERNMENT is WATCHING you.
Me: Oh, Dad. They always have been. There was a report a while back that they were monitoring public Twitter accounts for mentions of terrorism, and they put all of our tweets, for some strange reason, in the Library of Congress. I’ve always known that. As I am not a terrorist, I am not worried. It’ll all be ok. If I was worried, I’d lock down my account. Or stop tweeting. Or not talk about terrorism online, were I a terrorist. Which I am not.
Dad: You are going to be sorry.
Me: I don’t think I am.
Dad: YOU ALL ARE! I want you to tell the assassin, too. And your nice friend I waved to when I was driving to Florida.
Me: Well, I’ll tell them, but I don’t think they’re going to stop tweeting.
Dad: I’m not visiting all you people in Guantanamo.
Me: Didn’t they close Guantanamo?
Dad: Your president said he was going to but it was LIES LIES LIES.
Me: Did you suddenly become a Canadian citizen? I don’t care who you voted for, he’s your president, too, Rabble Rouser McGurk.
Dad: THAT IS NOT MY PRESIDENT. You take that BACK.
Me: *long suffering sigh* OK, fine, Guantanamo is still open, but I don’t think they waterboard people for tweeting about The Amazing Race.
Dad: That’s what they all say right before they’re being waterboarded for tweeting about The Amazing Race.
Me: So, am I ok to be on Facebook? Or to blog? Or are those also forbidden?
Dad: I think it’s best you get off the internet altogether. THEY ARE WATCHING YOU.
Me: Big brother has always been watching, Dad. This is hardly news.
Dad: What are you talking about? You don’t have a big brother. Your brother is younger than you are. You’re so weird.
I attempted to look up what had Dad in such a tizzy but couldn’t find any recent Fox News stories about the government monitoring my Twitter account. (Yes, I know he was talking about Fox News. When Dad said “the news” he means Fox News. There IS no other news. There’s Fox News, then there’s “the government news” that lies to us and tells us what Obama wants us to believe. The smart people in the world who think for themselves watch Fox News; the rest of us sheep watch “the government news.” I wish this was something I was making up for funsies but this is TRUE FACTS, bub, straight from my Dad.)
I am currently watching the American version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. “I want you to help me catch a killer of women” still gives me the chills. Although it is fine, and I like the music very much, and the cinematography is lovely, this Lizbeth is not my Lizbeth. My Lizbeth will always and forever be Noomi Rapace, and my movies will always be the Swedish movies.
I loved that I could listen to them in the language intended, and read the subtitles so I could understand them. (Also, I told Andreas this the other day, Swedish sounds like how I would imagine fish would talk. It’s all fast and liquid and kind of bubbly. I like Swedish very much. This came up because Andreas made me a recording of him speaking Swedish, and he a., sounds like a very distinguished famous movie star with this deep rumbly voice, and b., SWEDISH SOUNDS LIKE HOW FISH WOULD TALK and it made me giggle and clap my hands delightedly.) Anyway! This movie is fine. I just don’t see that there was a need for it. The Swedish movies were FANTASTIC.
Listen, here is a story about the Swedish movies, and the books. I read the first book and I was all “WHOA THIS IS AMAZING.” And I don’t usually like crime fiction, but I fell crazy in love with Lizbeth Salander because she was such a layered character. I love well-written characters. (Yes. The violence against women in the book was over the top. I know. I cringed and at one point I had to put the book down. I still loved it. Lizbeth was a fighter, and I related to her so, so much.) Anyway, my dad and I don’t like the same kind of books. And he doesn’t read much, anyway. But I thought, he would like this so much. So I said, hey, Dad, I think you should read this book. So I found a copy for him on half.com and got it shipped to him and said, if you like it, let’s talk, there are two more of these in the series, I’m reading the second one now and the third one’s supposed to be published soon. And he called me a week or so after he got it and he was all “THIS IS AMAZING I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW. I like Lisbeth! She is a badass. I hate Bjurman! I want to punch him in the junk. Who do you think killed Harriet? Do you think Blomkvist will fall in love with Lisbeth?”
How often do I get to talk books with my dad? Not very damn often. Over the next week or two, we discussed it every time we talked. He would say, “OK, I don’t understand this…” and we’d discuss the pressed flowers Vanger was getting in the mail, or the Bible with the names and numbers, or the women Blomkvist and Lisbeth were investigating and how they all tied into the whole bigger mystery, and it made my whole heart glad. Then I went home for some reason (Christmas, maybe?) and he’d Netflixed the Swedish movie for us. And he HATES subtitled movies. He always says if he wanted to read, he’d read a book, not watch a movie. But we were TRANSFIXED. We were SURE the movie wouldn’t be as good as the book, but it was. It was wonderful. Good job, Sweden!
We read the other two books together (well, separately, but discussed over the phone) and he actually came up to see me to watch the second movie in the theater with me, which was awesome. The third movie we didn’t see together – I watched it free from the library like I do and he watched it from Netflix. We both agree that the third movie was the weakest of the three because we don’t like courtroom crap and the third movie was mostly courtroom crap. But it’s one of my favorite Dad-memories, how we were both just completely wrapped up in these books and movies together for the longest time. I know a lot of parents are booky and get into literature with their kids, and my mom used to read to me a lot when I was little, but my dad wasn’t the reading type. He’d do it, but only when mom wasn’t able for whatever reason. So this was really special to me.
So, yeah. I appreciate the effort, Rooney Mara, and you didn’t do a BAD job, but you’re no Noomi Rapace. Noomi Rapace is, and will always be, my Lisbeth. And my dad’s Lisbeth, too. (Dad refuses to watch the new movie because he is having a feud with Daniel Craig because in an interview once, Daniel Craig said he was pro-gun control, and that’s a no-no in Dad-land. So if you ever meet my dad, and you’re pro-gun control, that’s cool. Just DO NOT MENTION IT.)
OK. Lunch. Work. Home. Sleep. Repeat repeat repeat. Happy Thursday, all. Week’s almost over! Get off the Twitter, the government’s watching you!