Horror movie in disguise

I've found many descriptions that dub Pan's Labyrinth as a fairy tale for adults, but I'd say that it's a well-crafted horror movie in disguise as a fantasy film and period piece, like a haunting "Alice in Wonderland" in civil war Spain.  I heard nothing but rave reviews about it since it came out, but it wasn't until almost five years later that I got around to watching it; it's not the kind of movie that I would toss into the DVD player and run in the background as I do chores or surf the web because its subject matter and it's spoken entirely in Spanish.  Initially I was daunted by the prospect of watching this movie but I was handsomely rewarded when I finally saw it.  If the story doesn't linger in your memory, the theme/melody will.  I don't really do horror movies, so this would be the film I would watch tonight (and I could because, after 20 hours, the power has come back on!  Alas, this is one of  the holes in my DVD collection.)

Terrifying/horrifying

One thing I find scary: watching women apply makeup on public transportation.  When it comes to eye makeup my fear is that the woman will poke herself in the eye, and with any kind of makeup I fear some kind of contamination, whether in the air or by contact.  The scariest things in the world are microscopic and deadly and can be anywhere.  Perhaps a public bathroom is only very slightly less gross than public transportation, but at least the former option not mobile.

lights out!

A 45-minute blackout isn't that bad, but when one strikes as a result of inclement weather there's no knowing how long it'll last.  I was anticipating having to wear a sweater or two to bed underneath my blankets in order to keep warm.  I was attempting to read by flickering candlelight.  I was wondering if I'd get to write a post tonight.  My mind invariably went to Weird Al Yankovic's parody of Gangster's (Gangsta's?) Paradise called "Amish Paradise"-- especially that line that goes, "I shun fancy things like electricity." 

I have a lot of respect for the Amish, but I have more for my electricity and modern technology.  No, I'm not glued to my (non-existant) smart phone, thank God, but I'm much more dependent on electronic devices than I'd like to be.  I fancy myself a Luddite, but I think I'm too much of a Gen-Xer to truly live without said devices.

Public Transportation Bingo!

I saw a man wearing a kilt earlier this week.  I did a classic double-take: from the waist up he was dressed like any other man, with a half-zip up black fleece sweater.  On the bottom, though, was the kilt and his stout, pale, slightly hairy legs.  This was on the train.  I didn't see any other people wearing kilts that day, or even in this month.  What are the chances of seeing a guy in a kilt on a non-holiday?  This question made me want to come up with my own version of BINGO based on the typical and the unusual people and events I've witnessed while riding public transportation:

B Be my friend?	I Icky habits	N Normal, not atypical people	G Go.	O Oh the things you can hear!
Man wearing a kilt	Person sitting next to you reeks	Tourist couple	Delay due to inclement weather	Stranger attempts to engage you in a serious conversation
Someone reading a book on an esoteric topic	Someone eats something smelly	Woman applying makeup	Delay due to police action	Uncomfortably loud and personal  conversation takes place
Person with dog too big to sit in lap	Nose-picking	Free Space!	Unexplained delay	Loud baby
Musician carrying an instrument	An uncovered sneeze	Field trip school group	Someone almost falls due to sudden jerking movement of vehicle	Can hear every word of the song someone’s listening to on headphones
Someone who has almost completed the daily crossword	Someone who leaves trash behind	Man in business suit and sneakers	People cluster around exits rather than moving all the way into the vehicle	A mumbling vehicle operator

I think I'll see how close I get to a BINGO this week, and see how well I fare for the next month.

Five senses of autumn

Autumn sounds like
- noses being sniffed
- leaf blowers mimicking the lawnmowers of summer and spring
- fallen leaves scraping, tapping the pavement
- swaying tree branches, dry leaves bristling in the wind
- seasonal sneezes
- people mourning the impending winter

Autumn smells like
- dry dirt
- warm spices-- cardamom, cinnamon, cloves
- apples
- earth

Autumn tastes like
- apples
- pumpkins
- herbal tea
- bitter air
- fear

Autumn feels like
- brisk, cool winds
- air that starts to dry out the skin
- red noses
- leaves crunching underneath shoes

Autumn looks like
- quietly flaming trees

meet cute on the subway during rush hour

Featuring two young professionals, male and female. 

Male: (getting up from his seat) Would you like to...? (gestures at empty seat)
Female: Oh, sure, thank you (sits down)
M: I'm reading that too, see? (shows her his iPhone display)
F: Oh! Yeah, cool (looks at her thick book)
M: I just started, I'm reading the first book.
F: Oh, really? This is the fifth book, I started the series after I finished watching the first season and I just started this book.
M: Me too!  I watched the series and I said I gotta read the series, if the show was this good.  Because the books are always better.
F: Yeah, that's true.  And, like, you really get to go inside the characters head, how they're thinking, even more than the show.  I don't know what part you're reading but--
M: I'm almost done.  After watching the first season I know what's going to happen but it's still cool to read it happening.  I want to be ahead of the curve, though.
F: Yeah, I know what you mean.  All the other books in the series are great.  Well, the fourth one is a little slow, but it builds up to the payoff at the end of the book.
M: Ah, cool.  That's the fifth book?  I thought it was a trilogy...
F: I think he was going to make it a trilogy, but then he wrote more.  I think there's supposed to be seven books in the series now--
M: Seven!
F: Yeah, and this is the latest one that came out.
M:  So what are you going to do when you finish reading that?
F: I don't know...I'm going to have to wait around to find out what happens next.  I guess I'll just reread the series from the beginning.
M: Cool.  Well, I'll let you get back to your book.
F: Thanks,  you too.  I think you'll really like it.
M: Yeah.
The two resume reading their respective texts.
F: This is my stop.  Thanks again for the seat, it was nice talking--
M: Yeah, of course, no problem. 
She smiles at him, then leaves.


If this were a movie script, the two would have exchanged numbers.  But this conversation happened in real life, right next to me a few days ago, and it went more or less the way it's written above.  I'd heard about Game of Thrones prior to this time; this conversation made me want to read the series.

I've never heard people on the subway discuss a book series before.

Deodorant

I don't glisten, I sweat.  Like an athlete, sometimes, even though I'm not one.  When I first started to purchase antiperspirant/deodorant for myself ( I don't count that first yucky baby powder-scented trial size of Secret all us fifth-grade girls got in our Puberty 101 class) I picked out one of the Adidas kind.  It was amazing and smelled cool, crisp, and clean-- like soap, but better.  I think it was called "arctic fresh" or "mountain breeze".  Alas, one day I went to my local CVS and there were no Adidas deodorants to be found.  I was devastated.  That sounds like a hyperbole, I know, but I was very fond of that product and to have it taken away from me without warning made me very unhappy.  How could they do this to me?  My one true love, the one inanimate object that would never let me down!  Ah, but I survived and moved on.

Over the years I have tried various other brands, and currently I am in possession of four sticks of antiperspirant/deodorant.  Why four?  Well, why not.  It's nice to have options, and deodorant isn't as expensive as scented body lotions or perfumes. My favorite of the lot is my small Degree for men invisible stick antiperspirant and deodorant in cool rush.  It smells cool, clean, and just a little spicy.  I don't use it to stop from sweating so much as for its scent, and sometimes I'll just apply it to my underarms when I have to go out and I either don't have enough time to shower or I'm just too lazy to bother.  The other two are Degree for women in Pure Satin and Dove for women in the original clean scent.  You know how pregnant women have weird, strong cravings and sometimes can't stand even the smell of a certain food?  I think premenopausal women are like that, too; my female friends and I crave certain foods depending on the week in the month, depending on our hormone levels.  Most of the time I favor my Degree for men, but sometimes I just can't stand the way it smells and that's when I reach for one of the other deodorants.  Both have soft, slightly floral scents (most female-oriented body products smell this way) and sometimes they smell better to me.  Or sometimes I don't want to smell like anything at all, and I reach for my fourth stick of deodorant, which is Secret's pH balanced unscented deodorant.

But sometimes I use that deodorant on somewhere other than my armpits.  In the summer I'll rub some on my inner thighs, á la Pauly Bleeker from the movie "Juno" so that it's not so uncomfortable when the rub against each other:



image source







World-renown very good sport, indeed

An appearance on Sesame Street is a good indicator that you're famous and noteworthy.  If kids should know your name, everyone should.  God bless Seiji Ozawa for his commitment to his role as conductor of this animal orchestra, not winking at the camera at all, taking his job seriously as he gives cues and gestures to draw out a crescendo of meows.



See those shots of  Ozawa from the front?  He could be conducting an actual orchestra, with that kind of dedication on his face.  What a very good sport.

Productive procrastination

Sometimes there's something you have to do, but you're really not in the mood to do it.  Sometimes I do what I call "productive procrastination", whereby I avoid the task that needs more immediate attention by doing other activities that are relatively less unfavorable. Examples:
- any household chore (cleaning the floor, doing laundry, dishes)
- writing letters to friends
- picking out my outfit for the next day
- flossing my teeth
- organizing desk miscellany
- trimming my eyebrows

Accomplishing any or all of these tasks makes me feel productive, and sometimes completing a boring but necesary task can be the first step to getting into the right and focused mindset required to accomplish the goal that I initially wanted to procrastinate on.  Now, this doesn't always work, as web-surfing is a much more enjoyable and time-consuming way of procrastinating and it can be productive, but that's unlikely.

Classical music rocks! Really!

Classical music is largely the genre composed by dead white (European) men, true, and has a reputation for being boring and pretentious—so much so that a few years ago some convenience store owners decided to blare it outside their doors to keep out ne’er-do-well teenagers.  I believe that the owners were successful in keeping out the bored adolescents that haunt these places, but I’m guessing they alienated other people, too (some of them "thugs"? eh, gives me uncomfortable feelings about classism...).

For me, baroque music is the hardest to appreciate unless you’ve actually played it before.  Beethoven straddles the line between this older, stodgier classical music and the more dynamic classical music, the kind that elicited polarizing reactions.  I wonder if any of those owners played any of Beethoven’s symphonies; I think those pieces are the easiest to get into for the beginning classical music appreciater.  I’ve recently gotten more into Rachmaninov, who is complex but not obtuse, emotional and passionate but also maintains nuance.  Maybe my favorite composer is Dvorak; in season 2 episode 7 of Glee the theme from the last movement of his “New World” Symphony was played for a few seconds to the slo-mo visual of a sneeze, turning it into an Epic Sneeze.  I’m not a rabid fan of that show any more, but I have to hand it to whoever chose that music to go along with that footage.  I squealed out loud at that part, because I instantly recognized that music and was delighted that thousands of Glee-watchers had also heard it and enjoyed it and have been exposed to some Dvorak.  Again, it’s not much, but I’m grateful for what it was, and I hope that other shows put in bits of classical music.
(could not find clip of the scene on Youtube, sneeze music starts at 0:16)

This genre is still changing and evolving, despite its name.  There are some pretty out-there, intellectual modern classical music symphonies out there—I’ve played a few of them.  Think of the soundtrack for Inception, which had the traditional symphony orchestra but included electric guitar—epic.  Really, how many things are more epic than that, than that movie’s soundtrack?!  I won’t begrudge Trent Reznor’s Oscar win, but Hans Zimmer is an awesome, cutting-edge composer who is building off this supposedly-dull music genre.

Classical music will never die, muahahahaha!

Impulse Hair Adventure

Come to think of it, that makes for a catchy hair salon name, yeah?  It sounds like a very trendy, cutting-edge (pun intended) place to get a new 'do.

Last night, on an impulse, I trimmed my hair.  I know, it doesn't sound like an exciting event, but it was and is a big deal to me.  For a while now my thick Asian hair has been weighing me down, particularly at the severely damaged ends.  They needed to be removed, but I just could not justify spending the time and money at a hair salon to get a little trim, to have the ends snipped off.  I didn't want any drastic change to the length of my hair, as I am trying to grow it out and see how long it can get before I can't tolerate it any more.

I gathered my hair into a high ponytail and made a scissor with the first two fingers of my left hand to hold my hair level, and before my mind caught up with my right hand I made my first snip.  Again, I have the kind of Asian hair that is very thick and coarse, so that first cut sounded more like a crrrunch and several thoughts ran through my head simultaneously:
1.  Dang my hair is thick
2.  I need better scissors.
3.  WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?
4.  ...and so it begins.

My next few cuts were more tentative, and I tried to recall what I had seen in YouTube videos of non-hairdressers cutting their hair at home.  Something like, "Cut into your hair at a 45-degree angle."  This resulted in a giant jagged lock of hair.  I was worried.  But I rearranged my ponytail, twist it slightly, and repeated the process over and over again until all the hairs were more or less the same level.

Alright, and every now and then I checked my progress-- and I was pleased with what I saw.  I probably should have wet the hair first, been more thorough with combing my hair, gotten a friend to help me out.  But I am thoroughly satisfied with the end result.  It was an adventure for me because I have never cut my own hair before, not even when it was the big thing to do in kindergarten during arts and crafts time when we were allowed to use real scissors and not those safety ones made of  plastic that only cut paper if you hold it at exactly the right angle.  I've already run my fingers through my hair enough times to feel really silly and vain.  Yes, hair is just hair, it will grow back and become damaged, but it's amazing how even a small trim can make such a big difference in how my hair feels and how I feel about myself.  Now I can wear my hair down!  Now I can whip my hair back and forth with greater ease, now that the dead weight has been snipped off !  I want to toss my hair over my shoulder like I'm in a hair product commercial!  In short, I feel pretty and witty and gay/bright and I pity any girl who isn't me today/tonight.

a recipe for disaster?

How would one go about writing up a recipe for disaster? 

- It might be cooked in a slow cooker, simmering for hours and hours until at last it results in a food item that falls apart at the slightest provocation, like fall-off-the-bone ribs (ribs?  Some kind of pot roast meat?  My vegetarianism makes me ignorant of many meat-related analogies and descriptions).

- It might be sloshed together in a fry pan, and then flambéed

- It may be baked in a ramekin, placed in a hot water bath, then blowtorched upon reentry out of the oven and into the kitchen

- Perhaps disaster is like a Caeser salad, tossed tableside and included the dreaded, stinky anchovies

- Could disaster be an item that has been freezer-burned, forgotten in the chilly depths of the freezer?

- Or maybe disaster is like a banana that has been left out to ripe and become overripen and ridden with fruit flies.  (Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.)

inane thought for the day

Is everyone in heaven vegetarian?

Think about it (but not too hard).  So heaven is the place that you go after you die, and you live there forever (just go with me on this, yeah?).  Nothing in heaven can die, because then it wouldn't be heaven.  That's where you can do whatever gives you joy, and for some people (foodies, meat-lovers) that might include eating meals worthy of kings for breakfast, lunch and dinner (and second breakfast and elevensies, et al, if you have the appetite of a hobbit).  But since nothing can die, nobody is really eating meat, because meat comes from animals in various states of death (or sometimes, like in one episode of Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern, they are just recently dead; he ate a beating frog's heart in Japan).  So the people who think they are eating meat must actually be eating...some meat substitute?

Would you rather...?

I forget where I found this "would you rather...?" question, but I wanted to make it clear that I did not come up with this myself:

Would you rather live in a world where everyone thinks you are fantastic the moment they meet you and continue to adore you as they get to know you, OR would you rather live in a world where it is completely legal and socially acceptable for you, and only you, to sucker punch whomever you want, whenever you want?

Both are pretty dangerious propositions, aren't they?  That's what I like about this question; usually the two options are equally unfavorable and I pick the one that I dislike the least.  Everyone likes to be liked, but having everyone I meet think of me as fantastic is unproductive to my personal growth.  Then again, it would be highly convenient to be universally not disliked.  And the same could be said about being able to sucker punch anyone without fear of any legal punishment.  The question does not indicate whether that person will be punished for sucker punching me back, though.  I do not have a long list of people I would like to sucker punch, as I'm a pacifist and believe that there are more efficient ways of comportment that do not require violence.  But if it's completely legal and socially acceptable for me...

Yeah, I think I have to go with door number two.  As obsequious as I can be and have a tendency to want to make good impressions on people, I'd be highly annoyed if everyone I met were completely enamored by me.  I don't seek to be actively disliked but I've come to be less apologetic about my shortcomings.  Maybe.

It's a conspiracy, I tell you!

I'm dubious of fragrant candles, room sprays, and air fresheners.  They do smell nice and many actually do a good job mimicking the scent that they're inspired by, but I'm suspicious of the ingredients involved in creating them.  I watch those Febreze and Glade commercials and can't help but wonder, what exactly is it that they are inhaling?  I feel that all those scented things that get wafted into the air are filled with questionable chemicals and carcinogens.  I feel that it's a conspiracy against women, particularly against housewives who are active in maintaining the cleanliness of their households.

Okay, I don't actually think that companies are out to get these women, but I do really think that the products that are marketed toward women have weird ingredients that might get the job done but at the cost of the user's health.  I have the most beef with these types of products, but I'm also suspicious of the stuff (the preservatives and additives) in makeup and cleaning products.  Call me a crunchy hippie lady, but I prefer to use baking soda, white vinegar, and water for various disinfecting purposes because I know the chemical composition of those items and I know that they're all safe (and edible).

Dance= art + (sports- grunting)

I think that "Dancing with the Stars" as done a pretty good job showing America just how painful and difficult dancing can be-- and I'm not just talking about the footwear and costumes.  It's one thing to play a sport and get to grunt and show on your face how much effort and concentration you are putting into every move; with dance you have to convey a certain emotion and match your motions to music.  I feel ballet is particularly challenging because there's so much technique and specific restraint involved that is hard to appreciate from an outsider perspective.  Dance is definitely art, but this categorization makes it easier to pass of as a less serious occupation of time.  Aside from "Dancing with the Stars", I only see dance on TV on PBS; meanwhile you have five variants of ESPN and games are usually broadcast on the most basic cable channels.

The most compelling and hilarious hybrid of dance and sport: competitive aerobic dancing.

With the music, choreography, and goofy-happy facial expressions, I think this leans more on the side of a dance.  But there's no denying the athleticism involved in all those moves.  It's a pity that this seems to have been a fad and doesn't really exist in this form today.

On Halloween and being 'ethnic'

Ah, Halloween:It’s the only day on which it is socially acceptable to dress up as someone other than yourself (or a sexualized version of yourself) and ask people for free candy.  So many options to choose from, with so many pre-fabricated costumes available not just at your local party needs store but in department stores and drugstores and megamarts.  But I think the issue of who/what to be for Halloween gets a little sticky if you’re not a white person. 

“An Asian little red riding hood?”

My best friend in middle school Dorothy (not real name) gave me this question, accompanied with dubious look when I told her I was considering going as that character for one Halloween.  We were close friends and I thought we had reached the point where we could be brutally honest with each other without getting offended or personally injured, but the way she responded managed to sting me a bit.  White girls were used to sell the costumes for geishas, Pocahontases, harem girls, gypsies, flamenco dancers, and Cleopatras—why couldn’t I dress up as someone who didn’t share my ethnicity?  Did Dorothy expect me to trick-or-treat as an Oriental, because I already had the right “look”?  Actually, I think that was the year I went as Cleopatra—mostly because the costume kit was relatively inexpensive and it gave me the chance to rock some heavy black eyeliner.

It’s fun to assume another identity through a sartorial transformation, don’t get me wrong.  But it’s not fun when being “ethnic” or being a minority is thought to restrict what kind of roles you can play, even just for one night.  It’s bad enough that Hollywood often sequesters certain minority actors to certain roles.  The first thing I think of it how the (very handsome) chocolate-skinned Idris Elba was cast to play a Norse god in “Thor”.  Well, why not?  Elba himself pointed out the ridiculousness of the fact that the movie deals with Norse mythology, and that itself is stranger than his casting in his role.  Ah, but I digress; this could be a blog post itself but this topic has already been extensively covered and articulated more comprehensively than I could ever hope to accomplish. [Amazing Grace is a great children’s book on a similar topic.  The titular Grace is an African-American girl who gets the part of Peter Pan in her school play, despite the discouraging whispers of her peers that she’s black and a girl.  Thank God for “Reading Rainbow”, which is how I know about this book in the first place.] 

So, Halloween: great opportunity for people—especially white people—to  appropriate other cultures’ dress just for kicks and giggles.  This year I hope to go as the boy Russell from the movie “Up”.  When I first watched the movie it never occurred to me that his character was Asian, but I later learned that the voice actor and Russell were both Japanese.  I admit it: it’s convenient for me, an Asian person, to dress up as this character.  But another motivating factor is that I have the proper physique and this character is a boy, a young male.  Most of my peers—twenty-something year old females—will opt to dress up as something sexy and female.  I aim to do the opposite by donning garb that is the opposite of both those adjectives. 

Mini trailer review: People who seek retributive justice

Also known as avengers.  Teaser trailer has gotten many people excited, to say the least.

I've been skeptical about this project since it was announced, but having seen this I'm earnestly looking forward to it when it comes out in the summer next year.  Maybe a little tentative about how all these big characters will fit together for a cohesive storyline-- especially for Bruce Banner/the (Incredible) Hulk, for whom I have an inexplicable soft spot.  But, really, if it ends up as a 100-minute version of this GIF I'll be thoroughly entertained.

Character sketch: Mr. Creeper

In retrospect, Mr. Creeper (obviously not his real name) really did look like a typical pedophile.  But then again, he was a teacher in his sixties, so of course his usual work outfit consisted of sweater vests, button down shirts, khaki pants and loafers (with not-matching socks).  And those huge circular square glasses, all the better to see you with, my dear.  And requisite thinning salt and pepper hair.

I never had Mr. Creeper as a teacher for anything, but he was my best friend's English teacher in 8th grade and she regularly filled me in on his...exploits.  His conquests.  He liked to give special attention to those girls who had developed early and boutifully.  He liked to come over to them and give them shoulder massages as he spoke to the class.  Keep in mind, this was middle school, when tween girls are just coming into their own, and the desks were sometimes arranged in four or five table islands, so it wasn't like Mr. Creeper was obstructing someone's view of the black/chalkboard as he massaged.  Ugh, I shudder.  I know we students complained about him to each other, but surely someone had to have complained to someone who was in power to actually do something about it, like another teacher or administrator or the middle school guidance counselor.  Actually, scratch that last person, she was pretty worthless, barely did anything from what I could tell, but that's another story, another sketch.

Hopefully he doesn't still teach anywhere...

NOT John Krasinski's ringtone

This is not the ringtone that John Kransinski has in the New Era commercials but it's the first tune I could think of that even begins to compare.  The notes are very similar-- both go do-re-mi-do-la-- but the rhyme of the music is decidedly different.  I know this song because I watched "The Boondock Saints", and the only other similar music I own is the Riverdance soundtrack, which features more, well, dancey music.

These ads feature John Krasinski's phone rigning:
at the 0:11 mark


again, at the 0:11 mark


at 1:09

Odors on the train

Today the lady who sat down beside me on my train ride smelled like cumin, like curry powder.  No, she was not Indian, she was a white lady with blonde hair and brown roots and enormous buggy brown eyes.  Really.  When she sat down I wondered, "Why does this white lady smell like cumin?"  She looked sort of like she was coming from a workout and carried this enormous backpack.  I have nothing against that scent but it is jarring to smell it from someone on the train, and an intimidating-looking white lady at that.

There was this one time about two months ago when a tall shiny-headed black man sat next to me and I sort of fell in love with how good he smelled.  It was distinctly masculine but not gross pisswater cologne or any cloying Axe spray.  It was faint but perceptible.  And kind of heavenly.  He didn't stay on the train long and his scent did not linger after he left.  Actually, I haven't thought of that moment until today, when I was just thinking about odors and public transportation.

Usually you deodorize or fragrance yourself for yourself-- because you like the scent you purchased or because you smell bad.  Or you spray yourself to make yourself scent-astic to those around you, because your girlfriend/boyfriend bought you that eau du toilette or you think that the Old Spice guy Isaiah Mustafa was onto something with the "man your man could smell like" thing.  The problem with scents is that they can be so personal: what smells great on someone else might stink on you, depending on your body chemistry and natural body odor as well as your skin.  Also, what your nose can tolerate might be insufferable to someone else.  The smell of roses makes me want to gag, gives me headaches-- roses really smell like poo-oo-oo.  I'm currently trying to decide whether I want to purchase a certain fragrance: it smells smoky/wood and floral at the same time.  It's unique, not sweet, and doesn't smell like something an old(er) lady would wear.  I'm just worried that I'll buy it and then decide I don't like it, or find out that it comes off too strong and I'll subject my fellow commuters with my weird odor.  If there's one thing I really cannot tolerate, it's lack of respect for others while riding the train.

More thoughts on texting

Last text message I received: "<family friend>'s mother died yesterday"
First text message I received: "Got a curling iron"

I'm not much of a texter, and I really only send text messages when it's more convenient than just talking over the phone.  I don't have unlimited texting as part of my phone plan so my texts are usually terse and lack vowels.  The texts I receive, though, come in varying writing (or texting?) styles and are on a wider range of topics.  That first text message I ever received was from one of my close high school friends and in regard to that hair appliance that she wanted to use for her hair for prom.  I think she chose to text me rather than call because she didn't know if I was in class or not at that time.  That last message was texted to me probably because the sender primarily communicates through text.  I'm actually glad I got the information through text rather than over the phone because it gave me the chance to react privately, without having to audibly express my thoughts and feelings right then and there to the person on the other line.  And also I received the information while I was in a public bathroom, and...I just would not have liked to receive that kind of phone call while washing my hands, amidst the typical commotion of a ladies restroom (women washing hands, applying makeup, fixing hair, talking to stall-mates).

Sometimes it's better, nicer, to hear someone's voice and have a normal conversation over the phone.  I'm not a great phone interlocutor, though, because I tend to get excited and interrupt the person on the other side, and half of the art of conversation is reading nonverbal cues.  I like communicating through writing, so, logically, I should prefer to text and I should have taken to text-messaging easily.  Eh, I feel that in a couple of years I'll really get the hang of texting and feel more compelled to use it more often, especially after realizing that there are times when receiving a text is more preferable.

Recipe: Hagrid's rock cakes

I deliberately didn't follow the directions for the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I made yesterday.  The dough ended up very dry, and when I pulled the cookies out of the oven I instantly thought "Hagrid's rock cakes."  In the Harry Potter book series the gamekeeper Hagrid makes notoriously inedible food-- I think that Ron almost chips his tooth trying to eat a scone.  The cookies I made ended up much softer than they look, but they're still really ugly and I suspect that as they get more stale they will really live up to their namesake.  It's all the oats that make the cookies look very hostile and suspicious, but also the oats are soft and add a lot of nutrional content.

Ingredients:
8      tablespoons (one stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2   cup dark brown sugar, packed
1      large egg
1/4   cup milk ( I used soy)
1      teaspoon vanilla extract
1      small jar of pureed vegetable baby food (I used green pea puree)

1.25cups+1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1        teaspoon baking soda
1        teaspoon salt
1        teaspoon ground cinnamon
3        cups oat (the quick start kind, I think)
1        cup of chocolate chips (can subsitute with raisins or dried cranberries)

Prep work (useful but not necessarily)
- whisk together the egg, milk, and vanilla extract
- sift together 1.25 cups of flour, the baking soda, salt, and cinnamon
- sprinkle 1 tablespoon flour on the chocolate chips and stir (this helps to combine the chips with the batter, to keep it from all sinking to the bottom)
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line cookie sheets with parchment paper (aluminum foil is okay)
1.  Use a wooden spoon to smoosh the butter so that it's uniformly smooth and creamy-looking
2.  Add sugar and stir until uniformly mixed in.
3.  Add egg, milk, vanilla extract mixture slowly, while stirring
4.  Add vegetable puree
5.  Gradually add flour mixture; stir
6.  Gradually add oats
7.  Add chocolate chips, stop stiring when everything looks well-combined
8.  Drop heaping tablespoons of dough onto the cookie sheets, press down to flatten out the dough ball and leave about an inch between the scoops of dough.  Cookies won't puff up too much.
9.  Bake for 12 minutes or until the cookies are golden-brown on the outside.  Let cool at least 5 minutes before consuming. 

Purse-onal belongings

http://www.nataliedee.com/

I envy guys' ability to travel light and stow things in their numerous pants pockets.  I have a few pairs of cargo pants but they are not figure-flattering and I don't usually put things in the extra pockets-- the ones other than the standard three in the front/two on the butt.  It's just not practical for me, doesn't feel comfortable when I walk.

I tend to overpack.  And I'm a klutz.  And I'm a girl, a female.  Wherever I go I carry a purse or backpack with me; sometimes during the winter I'll go sans bag, but only if I'm on an errand and won't be gone long.  I can get away with this during the winter because I use the pockets in my coat, but still I feel lacking if I'm not carrying something with me when I leave. I never leave the house with my MILK essentials: money, ID, lip stuff, and keys (with flashdrive attached).  The bigger the bag, the more stuff I end up putting in it.  The contents of my backpack as of this writing:

- MILK essentials
- Moleskine weekly planner (pricey but worth it)
- pens
- travel-sized Band-Aids packet
- travel-sized Tylenol bottle
- notebooks
- books
- Metro (free newspaper)
- toothbrush
- travel-sized toothpaste
- squashed water bottle
- misc. backpack debris (trash, mustard packets, ticket stubs, Lifesavers)
- travel-sized tissue packets
- Banana Nut Odwall bar

All this is heavy, and it's not unusual for my backpack to have more stuff to add to the weight.  Hey, at least I'm lugging all this in a backpack, where the weight is evenly distributed across my small, sloping shoulders.  I half-cringe, half-groan when I see girls with massive shoulder bags, walking with a hobble to counteract the weight of what must be a small anvil on just one shoulder.  Even trendy backpacks aren't that trendy, I think a slightly hunched forward walk is preferable to the limping gait brought on by carrying the weight of the world on a single shoulder.  Okay, as much as I bash this practice I have to admit that sometimes I do this.  Why? Eh, bad planning, vanity/stupidity.  But sometimes it's better to be prepared and carry all that extra weight so that you're ready for any emergency/"emergency" situation.

Character sketch: Alexa

At age 26, Alexa was the oldest student in my driver's ed class.  She had grown up in New York and spent her undergrad college years in Boston, so she never before had a real need to forego public transportation and learn to drive.  Now she was a grad student and wanted to go places that weren't so easily accessible, she wanted to go hiking with her boyfriend and do outdoors stuff.  I don't want to say she looked old, but she definitely didn't look like the rest of the teenagers: jaded, fresh, with ever changing crops of acne popping up on the facial landscape.  She had long straight light chestnut hair that fell in a shiny, single lock when she tied it up.  Actually, the first thing I noticed about her was that she was a hair twirler.  She sat diagonally in front of me, so in a way I couldn't help but notice; now that I think about it I was slightly unconsciously jealous of her, because I never had the kind of hair that took to twirling.

I think that in another situation, if we had gone to school together, we would have been friends.  Or at least we would have become more than casual acquaintances able to go slightly beyond the stilted small talk of strangers.  She was easy-going, warm, outspoken but introverted like me-- she had no qualms speaking her mind but didn't go out of her way to voice her opinion on every little thing.  I was in the car observing her for her first driving hour with the instructor, for the first time she ever parked or did a three-point turn.  I'd like to think that she got her license soon after she finished all her hours, that she passed her road test on the first try, and that she's somewhere out there driving like she's been doing it since she was sixteen.

Two truths and a lie: Full of win

All of these events took place in my first year of college.
1.  I won a hula hoop contest.
2.  I won a talent show.
3.  I won a spelling bee.

*    *    *    *    *

Highlight below to see the answer, with explanations.

1.  This statement is the lie!  I was the runner-up in this hula hoop contest.  I ended up hula hooping for five minutes, and it got to the point where my left hand fell asleep.  Granted, I have pretty bad circulation.  Counter to what one might think, having large hips makes it harder to hula hoop, and I think that my slender-figured competitior won thanks to her boyish figure.

2.  I did win a talent show, playing the violin.  I was completely shocked that I won; I felt I did a good job in my performance but there were so many other more interesting and flashy acts that preceded and followed my little bit, and when it came to voting I earnestly voted for the rap duo that closed the show.  I wasn't about to argue, though, when I was handed $100 in cash.  It felt a little dirty, a little cheap, but money is money.

3.  A weak victory; I actually almost forgot this because it was such a quick bee and I didn't win any prize.  I didn't win because I'm a great speller but I just merely outlasted the few competitors that showed up to this event.  Also, I think the judges gave tougher words to the kids who said they were English majors.

End of post.

There's a first time for everything

For the first time in my life (I think) I was misidentified as a male.  I was addressed "sir" by a woman.  I was wearing a black and grey-striped hoodie, dark blue skinny jeans (okay, fine, jeggings) and charcoal grey Converse sneakers.  Pretty typical for me, although I do "femme it up" some days and wear a more girly blouse or flats or something.  Lately I've also been wearing a little makeup-- nothing really obvious, just some foundation to cover up acne scars and a little eyebrow pencil to fill in my brows and make them more defined. 

I was mildly amused by this experience.  I hate being called "ma'am" but "sir" isn't really any better.  I wonder if this'll be a first of many, or just a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

smoke, no fire

I am against smoking; I'm generally dubious of any substance that is taken in to the body through smoke.  I'm all for sinus-clearing steams and vapors but I don't take to something that is rolled and lit.  The only kind of smoke I like is the scent that lingers after a campfire has been put out.  One time I didn't wash a shirt for an week after wearing it because it still carried that woody-smoldering scent and I had no desire to lose it quite yet.

I write this rant because yesterday I went outside to enjoy a bit of unexpectedly good weather and breathe some fresh air (having been inside and inhaling the staleness of reused building air) and took in a deep breath of secondhand smoke, which came wafting over from the crowds of smokers who also were taking advantage of the nice weather.  Now, I completely understand unhealthy addictions, and in this day and age people who smoke know that it's unhealthy, it's bad for you, etc.  But after giving it more thought, what really kills me is that smoking disproportionately affects the poor, just as obesity and playing the lottery are habits/lifestyles (some word like that, I have a hard time getting concise words at the moment) that are mostly or more commonly found in people with lower incomes or close to the poverty line.  Taxes on cigarettes are great in that they bring in more revenue at the state but also make them slightly more expensive and give slightly more incentive to stop smoking-- even a pack a week habit is expense, moreso that coffee (okay, depending on your cigarette and coffee).  But then we have a bunch of people who have tight budgets and spend chunks of it on a legal, carcinogenic, habit-forming drug.

I remember feeling confused when a picture was released showing cigarette smoking Patrick Swayze a few months before his death.  He died of pancreatic cancer, and I'm guessing that the reasoning behind this was that the man was going to die soon anyway, seeing as that type of cancer is hard to treat and beat, so why not let the guy have some puffs?  I guess it still bothers me, but I get the logic; I mean, he already had cancer, it wasn't like smoking could significantly debilitate him any more.

On the kindness of strangers on the train

I was a stranger on the train to someone who was not entirely certain whether he boarded the correct train. 

It was early in the morning, and although I was unaided by caffeine or any other stimulant I was pretty awake considering the hour.  The man-- stranger to me-- was sitting in my usual spot in the subway car and decided to just sit next to him instead.  I only vaguely remember her: average height and weight, dark brown hair, olive skin, traveling with a rolling luggage bag.  I thought he was headed for the airport but he was going somewhere else.  He politely asked me if he was on the correct train and at which station he would have to get of; I obliged him, he thanked me, and I proceeded to the day's crossword puzzle .

My stop was a few stations after this man's, and as he got up to leave he wished me a good day.  He said, "Have a good day", and I said "Thank you, you too" to the back of his head.  Not a long exchange, nor a life-changing one, but I did go on to have a good day that day.  I was already in an okay mood that morning, but that little exchange of gratitude really set the tone for the rest of the hours.  People can be so rude sometimes, especially on the train, especially toward strangers; this small instance makes me happy, makes me a little less pessimistic about humanity as a whole.

Stream of consciousness: Benefits of writing every day

http://lifehacker.com/5844427/a-sure+fire-approach-to-improving-your-writing-and-getting-over-writers-block

this article, saying that writing on daily basis will help you write in general.  i agree, and that was part of the motivation for keeping this blog up.  okay, sometimes i cheat and if i have more than one idea that's been simmering in my head on a particular day i'll write a bunch of posts so that i have something for the days of drought when it's 11:30pm and i realize i have to put something up here.

unlike the article suggests, sort of, my intent here is quantity over quality: i want 365 posts. some of them are just barely three sentences long and written in a matter of minutes, and a few of them were posts that i actually wrote and edited over the course of several days.

but i have still been practising some of the things the article outlines: don't make this a diary.  this isn't a diary for me about 'this is what i did today' but an attempt to be a little bit more reflective.  not really THAT analytical, except for some of the commercials, and even then a lot of it is just stream of consciousness/raw reactions to something, not necessarily searching my thoughts and challenging my preconceived notions on x y z.

writing something--even if it's drivel-- is better than nothing.  i've gotten better at allowing myself not just to write terribly but to let it be public-- and public in the sense that anyone on the internet can read this.  i like writing drafts, and do the practice of the vomit draft, which is pure stream of consciousness and writing what comes to my head, even if i acknowledge as i'm writing or typing it that it's nonsense, stupid, reveals my smallness in terms of lack of mental capacity, shows that i'm not as smart as i think i am or present myself.  i've written this as such, as pure unedited writing just to demonstrate.  See-- i didn't even capitalize some things or concern myself with grammar, proper syntax or whatever it is called.

it doesn't seem like my writing will improve as a result of this mind-dump but keeping it up every day will, according to this article, still help in the long run.  Right now i have a surfeit of ideas i want to blog about in the future, and i am saving this post for a 'rainy day', for when i don't feel like writing and have no time or energy to write.  cheating, i know, because i SAID i was going to post something every day BUT that doesn't mean i have to necessarily WRITE something every day, hahhahaha loophole! ah, but see, now I feel guilty about this habit of mine and I feel guilty for having revealed this to you, the reader.  okay, so i resolve that from now on i WILL in fact write every day, but i will not necessarily post what i have written that day, for sake of my pride and an attempt to put out better quality posts (excluding this one, of course).

Today is the last day of Banned Books Week

Top ten most frequently challenged books of 2010, as listed on the ALA website

http://www.ala.org/ala/issuesadvocacy/banned/frequentlychallenged/21stcenturychallenged/2010/index.cfm

Boldface indicates books I've read 
Underlined marks books I had heard of before seeing this list

1. And Tango Makes Three, by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson
   Reasons: homosexuality, religious viewpoint, and unsuited to age group
2. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, by Sherman Alexie
   Reasons: offensive language, racism, sex education, sexually explicit, unsuited to age group, and violence
3. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
   Reasons: insensitivity, offensive language, racism, and sexually explicit
4. Crank, by Ellen Hopkins
   Reasons: drugs, offensive language, and sexually explicit
5. The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins
   Reasons: sexually explicit, unsuited to age group, and violence
6. Lush, by Natasha Friend
   Reasons: drugs, offensive language, sexually explicit, and unsuited to age group
7. What My Mother Doesn't Know, by Sonya Sones
   Reasons: sexism, sexually explicit, and unsuited to age group
8. Nickel and Dimed, by Barbara Ehrenreich
   Reasons: drugs, inaccurate, offensive language, political viewpoint, and religious viewpoint
9. Revolutionary Voices, edited by Amy Sonnie
   Reasons:  homosexuality and sexually explicit
10. Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer
    Reasons: religious viewpoint and violence  

Based on the descriptions of these books I'm not too surprised that they were challenged.  Brave New World sort of flaggergasts me because I thought it was a modern/nouveau classic or something like that.  But I suppose if Huck Finn got reconsidered in light of its "racist language" I guess it makes sense that Huxley's text was challenged.  Nickel and Dimed surprises me because the content didn't seem so incindiary; this is a work of non-fiction and the author expresses political and religious viewpoints but it never came across to me as ban-worthy.  This makes me wonder: who exactly are these people who come together and make concerted efforts to prevent others from reading these supposedly damnable texts? Ironically enough, even Fahrenheit 451, a book about banning/burning books, was on the banned list.  Haven't people heard of the phrase "there's no such thing as bad publicity", and that challenging a book just ensure that it'll get more attention and readers before it is potentially off library bookshelves?