The Christa Act

The last film of Feminist February is upon us and it feels sad to be saying goodbye. Not that we strictly have to if we choose not to, after all this is our world and we can craft it any way we like. Our picks for the month have been varied and for the most part rich and fulfilling. There have been bees , overbearing family members , disgruntled pimps and teen pregnancy - and this week we tackle: pageantry. Well, pageantry and the crushing weight of other people's expectation. While we haven't agreed the theme for March, you can rest assure we'll continue to mix it up as per. Until then, however - to the crowning of  Miss Juneteenth, 2019 .

Yesterday was a very important day, spiritually. According to numerologists, it was one of those once in a lifetime kind of days packed with psychic meaning - and a perfect opportunity to manifest change. I'm not going to pretend I have much grip on how it all works but I can accept that dates like this don't come around all the time. And I could feel it was important, which is some freaky deaky shit.  You can read more here .  I've been feeling a change coming for a while. It's mostly been the desire to draw a line under the last two years and say enough is enough. I want my fucking life back and I'm sure we're all feeling the same way. So I'm taking it and if I have to buy into a spiritual landmark of a date to vow change then I damn well will. 

I've decided to give myself a proper horror education, starting with all the Giallo I haven't seen yet. The Horror genre has so much to offer beyond the films I already love so I've decided to start ticking some off my movie bucket list. ​I love Italian Giallo a lot (definition here ) because it is so damn extra - and bit by bit I'll be learning more and adding more to my collection. As I work my way through the list I'll be reviewing at the same time, which should be a lot of fun and will be independent of the Blog Collab movies I'll do with Jill. Well, unless we have a Giallo themed month which isn't so far outside the realms of possibility.

February is flying by, along with half the UK due to Storm Eunice. So far we've just about managed to get through it without losing too many roof tiles, though our recycling bin is another story. Perfect weather to snuggle up and complete our homework then. This week we take a road trip to Florida with a dancer called Zola and her new (problematic) buddy, Stefani. You may already know its history but if not, this is based on a true story which gained infamy on Twitter a couple of years ago.

One of the symptoms of anxiety for me is the failure to commit to things. Not people so much - once I'm set on you, I'm all in - it's more about starting a new project or, more likely, a fresh notebook. I hate making small mistakes on a blank page or reading back something I've written and not liking it. It immediately makes me want to start again.  ​Over the years this has also extended to blogs. I've had many guises online and although I believe I have stayed true to who I am, I definitely haven't shared every aspect of what makes me me. I'm starting afresh again right here because WordPress isn't working for me anymore but I'm reticent to make myself known publicly in case I can't see this one through either. ​​