Even more commercials?

I was watching "Toddlers & Tiaras" the other day and took copious notes on everything what I saw in that one episode.  The one I watched focused on three girls (ages three, seven, and seven) as they prepared for and performed in a $10,000 cash prize beauty pageant.  There's a lot of ridiculousness that happens in the episode, but I was actually surprised by the commercials: by the types and number of commercials that ran.

I saw 41 commercials.  That's practically one for every minute of show (most hour-long shows last 42-47 minutes). Ugh, I feel so dirty.  I mean, I've seen all those statistics on how many commercials the average American sees on a daily basis and read reports on how damaging it is for children to see all those ads, but it's really sobering to have sat and kept track of all those commercials. 

I sometimes enjoy commercials.  Sometimes I really enjoy commercials, to the point where (if I feel like wasting time) I track them down on YouTube and rewatch them.  It's like the shortest mini-narrative, a really short, expensive, informative film.  Of course, most of them are...insipid, and I flip to another channel or find some other means of entertaining myself until the featured program returns.

Small Happinesses

I watched the documentary "Small Happiness" in an anthropology class; it delved into the lives of some women living in post-Communist Revolution China, including marriage customs, the role of the wife/mother, and attitudes toward pregnancy.  The title refers to the way the birth of a baby girl is viewed: a boy is a big/large happiness (because he has more value) and a girl is a small happiness (because when she grows up and marries she will go away and belong to someone else's family).  I think all babies are small happinesses because they are small and bring a lot of happiness (when they're not pooping or crying).

For me, a small happiness is an experience that is not life-changing or spectacular yet makes me feel a little happier.  Things like
- finishing a crossword/sudoku
- paying exact change (in cash and coins)
- helping tourists find their way
- giving my seat up for someone more deserving (usually ends up being a parent and child)
- introducing a friend to a new and pleasurable experience

I think it's Eleanor Roosevelt who said, "Do one thing every day that scares you."  Sometimes I accomplish this, but more often than not I hope to do one thing that gives me small happiness.  I welcome big happiness any day, but every day can't be special.  If every day is special then every day is the same.  Just like how I am unique, just like everyone else.

Poetry for dudes

I just read this article on the book "Broetry" by Brian McGakin.

The poem on the front takes cues from this William Carlos Williams poem (taken from this site):

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

I like poetry, but it can be so pretentious, so snooty. (Snooty? Snotty).  I remember the part in Obama's inauguration when a poet read the poem that she had written for that occasion.  I remember looking around at the random people with whom I was watching the ceremony with, and I could tell that while they were jazzed about this new president they were kinda meh about the poetry reading.  But really if you think about it, poetry is just song lyrics without the song.  But some songs sound stupid when you read them...  Anyway, poetry has a certain stigma.  I wonder how much this book will get rid of it.

Of course the title of this book bothers me, and of course I know it's meant in a tongue-in-cheek way, because poetry isn't really a manly or masculine thing and this book aims to make it more palatable.  It doesn't mean that females aren't allowed to read it or enjoy it. The article includes a handful of poems, and I found these amusing...except for the middle poem in the Mama Celeste triptych.  I get it: haha, you call your mom a whore and then you apologize cuz you miss her home cookin'.  I'm sure lots of bros will get it and empathize.  I just wish it weren't that way.

Thoughts on...deodorant, scent

I collect deodorant.  Currently I am in possesion of three different kinds:
- Secret pH balanced unscented
- Dove Original Clean invisible solid
- Degree Men Cool Rush invisible stick (travel size)

In other words:
- one marketed toward women with no scent
- one marketed toward women with a scent similar to the brand's soap
- one marketed toward men with a spicy-clean scent

Why do I collect deodorant?
- because I want to
- because I can
- it's a cheap thrill
- I have more options, can wear a different stick depending on my mood

Once, as a joke gift, I bought my (female) friend a stick of Axe deodorant.  I spent maybe 15 minutes in the deodorant section of the local pharmacy, trying to find the one I liked the most.  I didn't really know how my friend would react; she actually really appreciated the present and told me that she had used and liked men's deodorant before.  And, as silly as it may sound, that's when I realized that I didn't have to limit myself to wearing scented anti-perspirant deodorants that were marketed to women.

I'm picky with scent.  I don't like anything powdery, and while I like fruit I don't necessarily want to smell like it.  I won't tolerated floral scents like rose or freesia, it makes my nose itch, but I love lavender.  I think musk smells gross.

I can't help but reminded of that line from the movie Mean Girls: "You smell like a baby prostitute."  But this is in reference to a perfume or body spray, not an anti-perspirant/deodorant.

Trivial facts, off the top of my head

Longest palindrome sentence in the English language (same letters backward & forward, just rearrange the spaces):
Go hang a salami! I'm a lasagna hog

"Eleven plus two" is an anagram of "twelve plus one"

Butterflies taste with their feet.

Beethoven started to lose his hearing as he got older and there are teeth marks on the piano he used because he bit down to better feel the vibrations.

Native Americans and Asians have a higher than average production of earwax.

The hairdryer you never knew you needed

The Darth Hairdryer: perfect for the Star Wars fan who's always craving the perfect blowout.  So... anyone with a Slave Leia costume.

I kid!  Sort of.  My reactions to finding out about this product where as follows:
1.  Ah, so cool-- a hairdryer shaped like the mouth part of Darth Vader's mask!
2.  I want one!
3.  No I don't, I never use a hairdryer.
4.  Who on Earth (or in a galaxy far, far away) would want to buy this?  In a Venn diagram with one circle representing "People who use a hairdryer on a regular basis" and "People who collect Star Wars-inspired products", there would be, like, four people in the intersecting section.
5. ...well, except for Star Wars cosplayers, particularly women since they are more likely than men to use such a hair care product.
6. ... well, just because it's inspired by Darth Vader doesn't mean that non-Star Wars fans won't buy it.  No need to be so cynical about a hairdryer.

My fantasy cookie shop

image source

If I were to have my own bakery, this is what the menu would look like:

Cookies
Apple cheddar (applesauce cookie w/ shredded cheddar on top)
Carrot cake sandwich (with cream cheese filling)
Chocolate chip (original; doughy and nutty)
Orange chocolate chip (puffy and fragrant)
Oatmeal chocolate chip (crunchy and dense)
Pecan butter (like a peanut butter cookie, with with pecan butter, and a pecan half on top)
Peanut butter (classic)
Russian tea /Mexican wedding cake (aka snowballs because they're coated with powdered sugar)
Shortbread sugar (like a regular sugar cookie, but more buttery)
Citrus Sugar (regular sugar cookie with a hint of lemon or lime, I can't decide which)
Ugly (my own combination of a compost cookie and one of the Sneaky Chef cookie.  Includes chocolate chips, shredded carrot, potato chips, dried cranberries, pecans, oatmeal and pureed zucchini.)

Bars
Brownies (original)
Brownies (spicy)
Conga bar
Lemon bar

Pastries
Eclair (original)
Eclair (inside-out)

Sandwiches
Fried cheese sandwich
Tomato and mayo sandwich (only during summer)

Eh, the rest is a work in progress. I'd like to put up a vegan and gluten-free list, as well as an experimental/try-outs list that I'd put up to test new cookies or recipes and decide if they're good enough to become regular options.

One thing: I refuse to sell cupcakes.  I'll sell cakes in small and large sizes, but no cupcakes-- or cake pops for that matter.  I like pie, but I think it'd be too much to make it on top of all the other offerings.  Above all, I want to be known for my cookies, which is why that list is so extensive. I've only actually made about half of the items on this menu.  I'd like to try to, though, someday.

Hair, part II

image source

I am growing out the hair on my legs.  (I do not remember the last time I shaved them, but no razor has grazed the skin on my leg since this year started.)
Not because I want to look less traditionally feminine (although it has that effect).
Not because I think looks nice (it doesn't).
Not because I'm a swimmer or biker (ha!) waiting to de-fuzz until just before a big race.
But because I want to.
Because it's practical (it saves me time and money)
Because I'm curious to see how long it can get.
Because I'm lazy, and can't be bothered to buy razors and shave my legs
Because I wonder how many people will notice (although I have no sure-fire way of knowing).
Because I can, I am growing out the hair on my legs.

Hair, part I

http://www.nataliedee.com/

I will grow out the hair on my head.
Not because I think that having longer hair will make me look more traditionally feminine (which it will).
Not because I think it'll look nice (it won't).
Not because I think it's practical (especially during the summer, in the middle of a heat wave).
But because I want to.
Because I'm curious to see how long I can stand my hair to be before I go crazy.
Because my hair has never grown much past my shoulders.
Because I want to test my patience.
Because I will be able to style it in more and different ways.
Because I can, I will grow out the hair on my head.

Attention men: Gerard Butler doesn't want your skin to look tired

Commercials: they take you away from the TV show you're watching, but they're the reason the TV show is able to exist.  But sometimes they can be entertaining and are worthy of as much analysis as a well-produced drama.  I'm guessing that this commercial airs in the UK and wonder if they'd market and tailor the same product in the U.S. 

Without further ado:

Thoughts:
1) It's great that now women aren't the only ones who have to worry about having tired-looking skin
2) Gerard Butler's a fun choice for this kind of ad, because he can be all Manly and use his natural Scottish accent in the voiceover and do things like play rugby and poker, aggressively go in for a kiss with a woman, jump off a fire escape ladder, drive a Sexy Sportscar and, most importantly, FIGHT 5 SIGNS OF FATIGUE with a swipe of his hand (and, presumably, a squirt of that lotion on his face)
3) That moisturiser is a pretty blue color
4) Funny that most face/body care products aimed at men feature the same colors: charcoal grey/black, silver, bright orange and electric blue.  That goes for most products target at the male demographic, actually.
5) Mr. Butler is so commanding and in control of everything he does.  He makes Decisions and Takes Action, he Gets Stuff Done.  I know, this really should be categorized as an extension of point number 2 but I feel it bears special recognition.  Despite having portrayed the titular character in "Phantom of the Opera" and the deceased lover of the weepy movie "P.S. I Love You", he is (in this commercial, made to look and act like) the Ultimate Man's Man.
6) I like the way it ends with Mr. Butler speaking three short, direct sentences.  "Look Sharp. Not Tired. Enough Said."  Men, it's important that your skin can keep up with you, and Mr. Butler has presented his arguments in concise and persuasive terms.  He does not need to spend more time to convince you of the products properties.  Just get on with it-- go out and buy L'Oreal Paris Men Expert's new Hydra Energetic Anti-Fatigue Moisturiser. Now.

Diet

I like to say that as a child I lived off Kraft mac and cheese and Disney movies.  All things considered, I think I turned out all right.

Food:
I still like macaroni and cheese-- all kinds, but I still like the instant kind with the overly-yellow cheese blend powder and the pasta that tastes a little cardboard-y.  But I'm vegetarian now, and I'm better about making sure I get all the right nutrients every day.  I still have a sweet tooth and love chocolate but I'm much better at restraining myself.

Movies:
I wouldn't call myself a cinephile, but I am very passionate about movies.  There's a long list of movies that I haven't seen, movies that are classics or modern classics or ones that have a cult following and elicit a what do you mean you've never seen any of the Terminator movies? reaction.  Disney was a big part of my life, but as someone who is old enough to be considered an adult I know enough to be cynical about the messages in those movies, especially the princess mentality that Everything Will Be Better Once I Find My Prince.  I'm a feminist now... but I'm still fascinated by fairy tales and folk stories and why they've managed to last so long.  I enjoy a good story and good storytelling, whether in the form of a painting, motion picture, dance, music, food, etc.

My diet now? Vegetarian food, pop culture (incl. books, movies, TV), and other people-- in that I watch and interact with them, NOT that I eat them.

Singing vs. dancing

To me, singing is more embarassing than dancing.  I'm clumsy and generally uncoordinated but I know how to move in time with the music and I know the limits of my gross motor skills.  I can deal.  But I just don't have a nice singing voice; I can sing in tune and maybe with some (intensive) training I could become a passable singer.

But which of the two is more embarassing? On the one hand there dance clubs in which the house lights are low and different colored lights and strobes go off to create a cool effect and make your dance moves look electric, no matter how much you're actually moving.  And there's alcohol to drink, and probably some other drugs that can be obtained to create a more heightened experience of dance.  On the other hand, karaoke bars are also wildly popular and feature lights and alcohol so that people are less inhibited to potentially make fools of themselves.  Both require a certain amount of familiarity with music and how it is structured.

You don't have to have a particular body shape to dance well, but you have to know how to move yourself in a way that is visually striking and not too strenuous.  If you put a lot of time into dancing and choreographing routines you burn a lot of calories and it's likely that your body will become more toned and muscular.  Dancing isn't something that is usually taught at school; physical education focuses on strength and athleticism, which can definitely help to make one a better dancer but to dance you have to learn the moves.

Music, on the other hand, is pretty much mandatory at school.  Few can actually sing it well but we all learn how to sing the national anthem in school and have to take music classes.  In high school there was an arts requirement and many students who weren't really into fine arts opted for the mixed chorus, which had no audition requirement.  It's really easy to fake singing when in a chorus; if you dance in a group, though, you really have to know your stuff because it's blatantly obvious if you don't.

I think I just convinced myself that dance is generally more embarassing.  But personally, if it were a matter of life or death to either sing or dance I'd chose the latter.  Would I live? Maybe.

Instruments and the people who play them, part II

click here for part I

Trumpet/cornet players
Not a shy bunch are these musicians.  This isn't to say that they're all in-your-face extroverts, but generally trumpet players don't have a problem speaking their minds and making themselves heard.  The brass section is usually pretty male-dominated with a few females sprinkled here and there. 

Trombone players
In my experience, trombone players have the best sense of humor out of all the brass players.  Trombones always go in front in parades because having them follow any section would be hazardous, to say the least (the slide part extends preeetty far out).  To me the trombone is sort of the odd man in the brass section because there are no valves to press down and it takes a certain kind of person and precision to differentiate between the positions for notes.

French horn players
I think that at one point in time French horn players were considered unreliable, but all the ones I've met are very reliable and intelligent.  Definitely some of the smartest people I knew in high school were French horn players.  I've been told that the instrument has the smallest mouthpiece and therefore is the most difficult brass instrument to play-- it's hard to get a really good sound out of it.  Also, it seems that French horn players are constantly transposing ("translating" from the key of one instrument to another). The French horn is unique in that it has an ambient sound that emanates in all directions, whereas most brass instruments just project wherever the bell part is focused.

Baritone/tuba players
Unfortunately I lump these two different instrument groups together because I just have not met enough of either type of musician to make a fair stereotype out of them.  They are an eclectic bunch and defy definition.  There's a sterotype that tuba players are large men who are about the same size as their instrument, but the ones I've met are all on the slim side.  I think baritone horn players are slightly more goofy/ humourous than tuba players, but I find most brass players to be pretty good-natured and relaxed in comparison to other instrumentalists.

Rank

Pit orchestra is so much fun!  I may sit down the whole time but I still feel like I get a really good workout, especially for my arms and hands.  I'm fresh out of a show and the left hand fingertips are a bit sore as I type this; they're sore and a bit harder and calloused from lots of action on the violin.

The music is fun to play and all the other musicians are good-natured and working hard to get the right performance out of their instrument, and in the process work up quite a sweat.  Tonight this fact was particularly obvious.  The pit in which I played tonight is rather cavern-like, so it's not ventilated well and traps heat easily.  By the end of Act I there were some pretty funky smells wafting about the place and we unanimously decided not to linger there during intermission but to leave the pit and air our bodies out a little.  In Act II some of the musicians in front of me checked their armpits after a show-stopping, high energy number; it was played to comic effect but they were serious about making sure that they weren't rank, that they weren't the ones responsible for making the pit odorific. 

I have to do a good job apply deodorant for the next show.

Not the end

image taken from here

No, the US release of the final film of the Harry Potter is not The End.  The end of the story, yes, but it's not the end of Harry Potter.  No, there will be no more big honkin' releases where we get to see the whole cast in Muggle clothing.  Actually I sort of take that back, because when the DVD gets released (in November, I'm guessing, so just in time to be added to someone's Christmas list) the actors and producers might get back together for the DVD launch.  And then maybe that could be the end, because then the movie is legally available to all. Also, maybe nine or ten years from now there will be a commemorative event for the film, the way that there are big anniversary releases for 'nouveau classic films' like the Back to the Future series and all the Brat Pack movies.

Okay, maybe this is a bit of denial.  I'm open to have my attitude interpreted as such.  But really, there's no need for additional drama around this movie.  It's already been filmed and everyone involved has said many goodbyes to the experience, and now the world gets to witness it.  The final book was released four years ago and some of the tension of wondering what will transpire is taken away.  I know who dies, who lives, what happens in the end and it's just a matter of seeing how it gets interpreted from page to celluloid.  I go back to what I said earlier, about how the DVD release is the actual end.  But it will be a beginning as well, because we, the public, will be able to legally have the entire series on DVD or Blu-ray or on a file on a computer, and be able to have it for our own to pause and replay and skip over scenes as we please.  Maybe it's not an end, but like a slight twist of one part of a strip of paper that gets taped to the other side of the paper, and becomes a Mobius strip.  It's closed off, and it has only one side that can be traced endlessly...eh, I think I've become even less coherent and sensible than I started off.  It makes sense to me.  I'll probably put my foot in my mouth and melt out of embarassment if I ever deign to reread this post...

Character sketch: Doppelganger

Twice, I was mistaken for someone named Simone.  Both times it was dark out and I was walking alone across campus.  The same guy (I think he might've been Chinese) called out "Simone!" or "Hey Simone" or "How's it going Simone?".  I'd slow down a bit and as he got closer he'd realize his mistake and apologize.  Did I mention that this happened twice?

Usually I'm mistaken for someone I know-- a Korean friend or blood relative.  I wonder how closely I resemble this Simone and if she's ever been mistaken for me.  I wonder what we have in common beyond having vaguely the same appearance from afar.  I imagine that Simone is something like this:

Simone is bilingual-- she can speak English and Mandarin fluently.  She did some field hockey in high school  but wasn't a particularly notable or crucial member of the team.  She's a foodie and spends a good deal of her free time hunting down the newest great hole-in-the wall restaraunt to champion and recommend to her friends.  Her "notes" section in her planner is dedicated to memorable dishes and quick reviews of the places she's been.  She works out at least two times a week, thrice if you count shopping on the weekends.  She can never have enough pairs of jeans.  Simone doesn't ever leave the house without wearing mascara and lipgloss. She prefers cats to dogs despite owning one French terrier.  On quiet weekends she likes to paint her toenails while watching reruns of "Sex and the City" or "I Dream of Jeannie" or "Bewitched".  Her childhood dream was to grow up to be a veterinarian or marine biologist.  Simone recently left her job as a urine technician for a drug rehab clinic and is now working as a pharmacy technician and loving it.  She's secretly afraid of growing old.

Go ahead and cry! (Or not)

None of the Harry Potter books or movies have moved me to tears the first time around. I have been deeply affected by the series but it wasn’t until my paternal grandfather passed away that our resilient protagonist’s journey really struck me as poignant. When I reread the books after that I couldn’t help but cry because painful feelings resurfaced and I felt more empathetic toward how the characters felt and behaved. It all really hit home for me and I could better appreciate how Rowling shaped the stories and her characters.

I’m pretty sure I’ve cried during more movies than books. Off the top of my head, these are some of the books that have made me cry:
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls (read it in 5th grade, always remember this as the first book to move me to tears)
Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Movies that make/have made me teary:
Everything is Illuminated
Little Women (gets me practically every time)
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (don’t judge me! I liked it and even read the whole series)
Pocahontas
Titanic
Up
Finding Nemo
Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring
Atonement
Good Will Hunting
(I’m sure there are more)

I’m curious to see if I’ll have cried by the time I see the end credits roll for the last Harry Potter film. Out of all the films this one has the highest chance of bringing up that kind of emotion in me. I have high hopes for this film and feel confident that I’ll like it—I might even love it or consider it my favorite of the bunch. I’ll have to wait and see, of course, but all this is how I anticipate feeling. And of course there’s a bittersweet note in that this is the last film in this series. I think it’s too late to decide to attend a midnight screening but definitely sometime this weekend I’ll see it.

Sousa!

Oh, John Philip Sousa, thank you for your many contributions.  Namely:

1. The Washington Post march
2. Stars and Stripes Forever.  So much fun to play, every time I play it, regardless of what instrument I'm playing it on and if I have the melody or tons of offbeats.  Great crowd-pleaser, great way to end a concert.
3. The Sousaphone.  It's so much fun to say, and even more fun to watch in action. You know what a Sousaphone is: it's a tuba that wraps around the musician's body, with the bell part flaring out above his/her head.  It must be heavy and it takes a certain kind of person to have the stamina and musicianship to pull it off.
4. The short story/novel The Fifth String.  Granted, I haven't actually read past the first few pages, but the mere fact that it exists-- that this composer not only wrote music but a work of prose-- really tickles me.  I don't think it's in print because I can only find it in an online/e-book format, and this has really been the main factor in my reluctance to keep reading it.  Someday, I promise, I'll get around to finishing it.  The title itself is fun; it's the equivalent of baseball narrative titled "The Tenth Inning".

Lame-o

Food adjectives that can also be used to describe people:
- sweet
- salty
- sour
- crunchy/granola
- flaky
- soft:
- hard
- toasted/baked
- cheesy
- corny
- burnt
- gritty
- blanched
- dyed
- frosted/frosty
- dry
- oily
- hot
- warm
- cool/cold

If I were a dessert I would be a conga bar.

My ten commandments of riding public transportation

I. Thou shall have money ready before the vehicle approaches
II. Thou shall stand to the side of the door to allow passenger to exit prior to boarding
III. Thou shall move into the vehicle as far in as possible
IV. Thou shall not clip toenails, or engage in any similar behavior that is typically performed in a bathroom
V. If seated, thou shall offer to give up the seat if approached by an elderly person, or someone who is traveling with a child/children, or someone who is carrying multiple and/or large bags. If standing, thou shall grab the nearest pole in a way that allows others to grab onto it as well
VI. Thou shall keep phone conversations to a minimum and speak using an indoor voice
VII. Thou shall not leave trash behind.
VIII. Thou shall not eat anything pungent, messy, or apt to flake or crumble easily
IX.  Thou shall not shove others when exiting but shall still leave as quickly as possible
X. Thou shall not complain about riding public transportation

Misleading names/titles

1.  The Turtles vs. The Artists
What do you think about when you hear the names Raphael, Michaelangelo, Donatello and Leonardo?  In the book Framed by Frank Cottrell Boyce, the protagonist names his chickens after the middle two Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in that list, and a museum curator mistakes the protagonist for an art aficionado upon learning the names of the chickens.  I'm sure that somewhere out there someone has compiled a list of the ways the Turtles reflect the habits and characteristics of their namesakes; since they're all Italian it's safe to assume that their love of pizza has been accurately portrayed in the Turtles' shows and movies, right? (Just kidding).

2. ...what book?
I recently took out a book about librarians for my mother.  The other day she asked me to return this book, it's overdue.  I thought to myself, whaaaaaat?  It can't be overdue, ever since my massive $40 fine I've been very careful to return all library items on time, I could've sworn it wasn't due for at least another week...Well, I was right.  It wasn't overdue, in a manner of speaking.  The book's title is This Book Is Overdue!: How Librarians and Cybrarians Can Save Us All, by Marily Johnson.  I had merely misheard my mother, who had simply asked me to return that specific book and therefore told me the title.

3. ...what album?
This happened to my friend. 
Friend: I want that Nirvana album for my birthday
Mother: Okay (goes on with chores or something)
A few days before the birthday...
Mother: What Nirvana album did you want for your birthday, dear?
Friend: "Nevermind"
Mother: Oh, alright
Day of the birthday
Friend: Thanks for the present, but I thought I said I wanted that Nirvana CD for my birthday?
Mother: But I thought you said you changed your mind
Friend: No, "Nevermind".  The name of the album is "Nevermind"
Mother. Oooh.

I'm sure that my friend isn't the only person to whom this mix-up has occurred.

"It All Ends" a week from today

 

This is almost it-- the last Harry Potter has already premiered in London, and a week from today the USA will get to see it as well.  I've enjoyed all the films (some more than others) as well as the many behind-the-scenes clips and interviews that this extensive cast has completed.  Out of all the ones I've seen, the clip above is my favorite bit of interview footage: the interviewer is clearly a fan but not disgustingly obsequious, the interviewee is gracious (and handsome), and it's fun to see so many props and wardrobe pieces out of context.

It's funn that just yesterday I was contemplating the feeling of withdrawal after a massive project, and I feel the same sort of nostalgia when thinking about the fact that the very last film of this series has been filmed and edited and is probably just sitting in hundreds of theaters across America, that it's all really over. 

Julian Matthias and I: Withdrawal?

I've come fresh out of a dress rehearsal but I'm already thinking about withdrawal.  It's not that I want to withdraw from the show, but that I'm preemptively feeling for the actors and the production people involved.  I don't know how long they've been working on this production-- for weeks at least, maybe a month or two.  This week has probably been the most joyous and stressful, since this Friday marks the very first show.  All that hard work and rehearsing will be on display and it's showtime, quite literally.  And before we all know it we'll be performing the last show, and then it'll be over.  There will be no more "next rehearsal" or "next show" to make it better or amend mistakes or relive the thrill of receiving applause after that particularly exhausting yet thrilling show-stopping number.  It's a relief once it's all over, but then immediately there's also a feeling of nostalgia and mourning, almost, that it's all over and it's gone, it will never happen quite that way again. 

I know "nostalgia" is usually used in reference to childhood memories; I don't know what the prefix "nost-" means, but "-algia" refers to pain-- think myalgia (pain in muscles) or neuralgia (nerve pain).  Nostalgia means "to look back with pain", and I think that it's very fitting for the feeling of After The Show's Over.  Withdrawal, too, feels like an apt description, as theatre is like a drug: there are very high ephemeral highs, and there are very stressful, dark lows when everything is going wrong and it doesn't seem like there's a chance that the show will go on or be presentable in any way.  There's a lot of sturm and drang that goes into putting on a show, but the people involved think that it's all worth it in the end, that all the energy and money and emotion that goes into it is of value, just as a junkie will sell everything s/he owns to get just one more hit.

Ach, I didn't intend for this post to be so depressing!  It's just that I'm anticipating this feeling for others.  As a pit orchestra musician I have probably the least amount of involvement for someone involved in the production.  I just have to show up and play, and it's someone else's problem if the sound doesn't work or the music cues don't match up.  I'm heard but not seen, and I like it that way.  But I've been on the other side of the stage, I've been a performer on stage in a theatrical production before, and I wish nothing but the best for everyone else who's worked literally day and night on this production.  The dress rehearsal was fraught with technical difficulties, but I stand by the superstition that if a dress rehearsal goes badly the actual run of the show will go well.

My "Where's Waldo?"

I'm one of those people who likes to sit and watch the entire movie credits at the end of a film.  My reason for this is probably different than many other peoples. 

Why would people want to stay for the credits?

1.  To watch the bloopers
Examples include: many Jackie Chan movies (Supercop, the Rush Hour movies), some Pixar films (the first two Toy Story films, A Bug's Life as well, I think).  I'm sure there are more movies that fit in all the categories I list here but they don't readily come to my mind

2.  To look out for a bonus/epilogue scene that may tie into a sequel
The Pirates of the Caribbean series and any film connected to the behemoth Avengers film has done this.  Captain America: The First Avenger hasn't come out yet, and I haven't seen the entirety of either Iron Man film but I know that all these films have a tag/tie-in scene after the main plot of the film has officially ended. 

Character sketch: Sean

More than anything I remember his voice and the back of his head.  But of course I did, since I spent an entire semester staring at his uneven hairline and its various permutations as the weather changed.  I got the impression that he shaved his own hair because whenever he came in with it shorn it was sort of patchy.  Oftentimes he wore a baseball cap that covered most of it  BUT not his scraggly hairline.  Oh, the many times I wished I could ask him if I could shave it to make his scalp and neck more distinguishable. 

I guess you could say that his voice was similarly scraggly.  I don't think he was a regular smoker but I had never seen him refuse a cigarette if one was offered, and you could really tell if you listened to him. His voice was full of uncertainty, very tentative, and cracked a lot.  I don't mean to say that he was going through puberty but that he sounded like he rarely spoke-- which was true.  Whenever he did speak it sounded like he had just woken up and hadn't had a chance to have a proper cough to clear his throat and chest.  He wasn't shy or unintelligent, he just seemed to have a "speak softly and carry a big stick" way about him.  His voice was crackly like static on kiddie walkie talkies, like the stiff groan of the binding and the paper when turning the page of a new book, like Pop Rocks with none of the sugar (or high fructose corn syrup, whatever they use to make it sweet).

The rest of him is pretty nondescript: he was probably average height, 5' 6" or 7", a little on the lean side, maybe 150, 160 lbs., brown hair, brown eyes (I think), some Irish-Italian-American mix.

July the Fourth be with you

I wonder how the rest of the world feels about America and its/our Independence day (or "independence" day) celebrations.  Probably something like this?

It's so easy to be cynical about the state of the union nowadays, isn't it?  But it doesn't hurt to spend just one day of the year to appreciate the positive positive aspects of this country.  God bless America indeed.

Types of fortunes

I started collecting the fortunes from fortune cookies in 9th grade.  I still collect them but lost most of the original collection. The sayings can be categorized into 4 groups:
Life advice/ wise sayings:
- Prudence keeps life safe, but does not often make it happy
- A merry heart does good like a medicine
- Calamity and prosperity are the touchstones of integrity
- When you gather all your resources together, goals are accomplished
- If you want to add value to your life, take care of every moment
- A wise man knows everything, a shrewd one, everybody

Benedictions/warnings:
- A pleasant experience is ahead; don't pass it by
- You will receive a surprising gift very soon
-  Today is a day to focus on one thing from beginning to finish
- Good health will be yours for a long time
- You will achieve success this year

Metaphors
-  A rolling stone gathers no moss...but it obtains a certain polish!
- One must know that there is a path at the end of the road

Compliments
- You always know the right times to be assertive or to simply wait
- You are a wise and handsome gentleman!
- You are surrounded by true friends

I know, the first and third categories could be grouped together, but to me they warrant separate groupings, as the former is much more explicit and straightforward and the latter is figurative.

Nail polish redux

13  I Shall Paint My Nails Red

Because a bit of colour is a public service.
Because I am proud of my hands.
Because it will remind me I'm a woman.
Because I will look like a survivor.
Because I can admire them in traffic jams.
Because my daughter will say ugh.
Because my lover will be surprised.
Because it is quicker than dyeing my hair.
Because it is a ten-minute moratorium
Because it is reversible.

- Carole Satyamurti


Fact:  If I've ever thought something to myself, someone else out there has probably said it before and in more succinct words than I could come up with.  I don't have a daughter or a lover but I can still empathize with everything that the poet describes, especially the second line, the fifth line, and the last line--these are the main reasons why I paint my nails.

"Because I am proud of my hands"
I have rather small hands, even for my short stature.  My thumbs are rectangular and squat, and can extend (bend) very far, as if I were born to be a hitchhiker.  My fingernails are usually clipped short.  The pads of the fingers on my left hand are ever so slightly calloused from violin and guitar playing.  I like my hands (most of the time).


"Because I can admire them in traffic jams"
Sometimes when I'm bored I like to look at my nails and just consider them, evaluate the way the color compares to my skin tone and how it looks different depending on the light.  Nail polish is a kind of make-up that I enjoy, something that is purely self-indulgent.  Face make-up is admired by other people, and if I wear it I can only appreciate it if I look in a mirror.  On the other hand, I notice my nail polish more than others do.  My favorite nail polish color is called "OPI and Apple Pie" (the brand name is OPI); it's not a typical nail polish color-- a orangey- caramel color-- and it's kind of ugly and unusual.  This is why I like it though, because it's weird and kind of looks like wood varnish gone wrong.  It's like an inside joke with myself, because I really like it and I don't care what other people think, I'll go one admiring my nails when covered up with that absurd lacquer.

"Because it is reversible"
The nail polish might start to chip in a week, but by then I'll probably be sick of that color and decide to switch it up.  I might paint a few nails a certain color and almost immediately be bored or annoyed that it comes out differently than it looks in the bottle, but it's no big deal because I can easily rub it off with nail polish remover.  Not all mistakes in life are reversible, so it's nice to be able to undo one even on the very small scale of stripping the polish of my fingernails.



* * * * *

Satyamurti, Carole. Staying Alive: Real Poems for Unreal times. By Neil Astley. NY, NY: Hyperion, 2002. Print.

I Heart Carbs



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 http://www.nataliedee.com/
Twice or thrice I've given up bread for Lent (going with the whole "man does not live on bread alone" thing).  I allowed myself crackers, pita wraps and lavash rolls; I disallowed anything else leavened, in the Jewish Passover sense.  On top of this I am vegetarian, and what got me the most was having to give up pizza and sandwiches.  But I survived.

Today I visited my local megamarket and I feel like I melted as I approached the bakery section and got a whiff of some of the paper bagged-breads.  Oh, carbohydratey goodness!  Why did I ever forsake thee?  The smell of baked goods is more tantalizing to me than any other food; it's a scent of home, of safety, of warmth and love.  If I had to choose between cooking and baking I'd choose the latter, not because I'm better at baking but that it evokes in me a greater sense of heartiness and, well, magic.  When cooking on a stove the food changes right before my eyes, but when it comes to baking I put in a pale and tentative-looking object into the oven and it emerges as a golden-brown and delicious product.  There are few things as satisfying as the pow of hot, scented air that hits my face when I pry open the oven door for a peek at how the food's progressing.

Baking is slightly less satisfying during the summer, when so many different attempts are made at keeping the house cool.  I've heard good things about grilled pizza and hope to try that out soon-- maybe this weekend.  But I'm definitely going to continue baking throughout the year; maybe I'll get daring enough to make my own baked good recipe.

Halfway there!

Well looky-here, I'm halfway through the year!  I think I've done a good job in delivering quantity over quality, and I'm slightly surprised that I've persevered and lasted this long.  I wouldn't say that writing daily has become a habit or a compulsion, as some days I really have to force myself to think and to write.  But some days I do look forward to writing about something that happened to me or something that's been marinating in my brain. 

Improvements/adjustments for the second half of this year:
1) Rely less on random YouTube videos or movies for inspiration/filler for days when I'm uninspired to write
2) Use more GIFs
3) Proofread my posts more than once before publishing

The ever-growing booklist...

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My booklist is growing every day, with each "Summer Reading List" featured in the many websites I check on my daily cycle of sites (my "vitals").  I'm very excited by each new book I add to my list, but it's unrealistic that I'll actually get around to reading all of these this summer (before Labor Day), or this year, or in my lifetime.

Without further ado, the list (in the order I plan to read them):
1. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (currently reading)
2. The Illustrated A Brief History of Time/The Universe in a Nutshell by Stephen Hawking
3. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
4. Black Boy by Richard Wright
5. Marched by Ally Condie
6. Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine
7. The Curfew by Jesse Bell
8. Nom de Plume: A (Secret) History of Pseudonyms by Carmela Ciuraru

I'm certain of the order of the first four books, but that of the last four is subject to change.  There are thirteen other books in my regular booklist, but these are the ones I've "curated" for this summer.  We'll see how this goes; as far as promises/commitments to myself I've been pretty good, actually.

Acabo de pensar de esto la semana pasada

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Estaba hablando con una amiga quien me dijó de cómo pidió su novio una hamburgesa: queso extra, sin lechuga, sin tomate, con salsa de tomate.  A él le gusta el tomate pero no lo comerá si lo mezcla con otra comida, pero le gusta el sabor de la salsa de tomate.  Este me confunde; me gusta ambos tipos de tomate.  Algo que me encanta sobre el verano es la variedad de tomates que puedo comprar, en varias tamaños, colores y sabores.  Ahorita mi especie favorito es el tomate bistec: es enorme y sabroso.

Estaba leyendo este artículo sobre el tomate, y cómo se cultivan y cosechan tomates hoy en dia para mantener su color, su aparencia de sabor y ya no tiene ningun sabor.  Es una lástima, es este problema.  En otras estaciones encuentro este problema, de comprar la "manzana de amor" y comerlo y me aburre la lengua.  Pues, es probable que la rebanada de tomate que casi era comido del novio de mi amiga tuviera ningún sabor, y si lo tuviera, ahogara del sabor del salsa de tomate.  Quizás este explique por qúe tanta gente come el tomate en este forma, en la forma líquida: porque es más interesante que la tomate fresca...y es más barato.

Hugh Jackman in the morning

Me pregunta porqúe? Vale, explicaciones:
1) El sol brilló cuando me levanté este mañana, y esto es lo que sentaba
2) Tocaré este obra de teatro musical en unos semanas y he escuchándo la musica
3) ­Porque no? Busco cualquier razon para ver y escuchar este actor cantando y bailando.

Es lo que es

Nota: No escribí todo primero en inglés y luego lo traduce inmediatamente por lenguajes en Google.  Escribí totalmente en español y usé el diccionario para buscar las palabras que no pudiera recordar.  No es perfecto, no escribo como es mi lengua nativa; pues, es lo que es.

No me sentaba bien cuando me levanté este mañana.  Me sentaba un poco enferma: tuve un calentura pequeña, poco tos y tuve sinusitis un poco.  Nada seria pero me enojaba mucho.

Hasta que usé mi Neti Pot! Ay, hace mucho tiempo que lo usé.  De vez en cuando lo utilizo para irrigar las pasajes de la nariz-- cuando las alergias me afectan.  Lo compré el Neti Pot dos años pasados; aquel verano era casi insoportable, y la nariz siempre era rosado porque siempre tenía que sonarla. Una amiga sugiera que probar usando esta cosa.  Aunque lo he usado muchas veces, cada vez me hace un poco nerviosa.

Lo que pasa es que mezcle un poco sal y sodioclorido en agua templado en el Neti Pott y echarlo en una ventana de la nariz.  El líquido sale por la otra ventana de la nariz, y es importante respirar por la boca cuando hacer esto.  Me siente un poco extraño, porque es como ahogando.  Tipicamente nadie quiere que agua viene la nariz, pero los polvos en el agua sirven para limpiar todo interior sin hacer daño a los tejidos.  Cuando termine y no hay mas agua, hago lo igual en el otro lado.  Parece curioso y siente curioso pero sirve bien.  No mas me duele los senos y respiro mejor.  Despues hay un poco olor de algo quemado, pero este sensación sale hasta unos minutos.  No me gusta decir que "me encanta ___" si es una cosa material, porque me siente que se usan este frase con frecuencia y no tiene tanta importancia; pero sin dudo me encanta el Neti Pot y no quiero vivir sin esto.  Puedo sobrevivir, pero no querio y no es un hábito precio-- me ayuda, y no hace daño como otros polvos blancos...

Speechless with joy

I've mentioned before how I'd like to buy and learn to play a trombone, right?  Because it's a brass instrument and looks fun to play.  Well now I REALLY want a trombone, and I'm determined to get one by the end of this summer; yes, I'm adding it to my to-do list for the summer.

Why, you ask?  I'll show you why:

Me equivoqué

In my post from a couple of days ago I wrote something along the lines of "one cannot like one's elbow"; I meant to say "lick".  It is anatomically impossible to lick one's elbow, although I'd like to see Gene Simmons try.  Actually, scratch that last part.  Gene Simmons' tongue terrifies me slightly.  Anyway, point being, I wrote what I didn't intend, hence me equivoqué=  I was wrong, I made a mistake.

BUT-- I have to admit that I don't really like my elbows.  Sure, they're useful and necessary joints and I truly don't know what I would do without them.  I can flex my biceps (not very impressively) and extend my arm using my tricep muscles.  Hooray.  But my elbows always seem to be in the way, especially when I'm in front of my sink in the bathroom at home.  I'm forever knocking things down with my elbows or having water drip down them, thus wetting the entire sink area.  I'm not a very big person but I'm a klutz, so I never seem to have enough space to function properly without getting some part of my body in the way of myself.  Elbows and hips seem to get the lion's share of bumping into things.

And elbows are so weird!  With arm extended there's that unseemly, shrively skin that accumulates there, also sometimes known as a weenus?/winys? (spelling?).  And then when arm is flexed the elbow is all bone, just those two protrusions where (if my memory is correct) the radius and humerus meet, where a faint pulse may be palpated.  And if popping an arm back into its shoulder socket isn't distrubing enough, popping an elbow back into place is...well, see for yourself and put in your own adjectives:

If today were a song...

... it'd be this one



I have no idea what she's saying, and I'm not even sure what language it is.  It's the tone, the mood of the song that really do it for me.  Where I live it's been cloudy all day, ranging from drizzly to heavy-- not a miserable day, but one that encourages thoughful reflection in the dry indoors.

I take it all back, I do not hate summer

I had a kiwi for dessert today and ohmygoodnessitwasdelicious.  I didn't feel like eating it with the peel this time around, and as I was peeling it I had its green juice dribble down from my wrist to my elbow.  Oh how I was tempted to like it! But, as we all know, it is impossible to like your own elbow.  Okay, maybe unless you're Gene Simmons.  Mmh, but it took more time to peel than to eat; I must've finished it in three bites. For most of this year a great bulk of my fruit consumption was in the form of canned peaches-- which I love-- and now finally, FINALLY there's an abundance of fresh fruit to be had.  And farmer's markets, with fresh local produce; ah, it'll be nice to eat a tomato that actually tastes like one rather than just simply looking the part and offering very little excitement for my taste buds.

Yesterday I made pizza dough (I've been really into baking lately) and had to make the very difficult decision of figuring out what to do with it.  Make pizza? Or focaccia, as I did last week? Or prepare it to stuff, roll and bake tomorrow morning as sticky buns? Oh, the difficult decisions that I am faced with in the summertime...

Julian Matthias and I: Worst audition ever

My worst audition ever took place either at the very end of August or the very beginning of September.  The air was still warm and sunny but there was a palpable coolness the atmosphere that couldn't be completely attributed to cooler breezes.  The new school year was approaching with great rapidity, and my lack of practising violin over the summer was inescapable. 

I quickly ran out of tomorrows and found myself rushing to pack Julian Matthias up and stuff my music into my bag to leave for my audition.  I got there 20 minutes so that I had enough time to warm up and cycle through the four stages of grief about three times before I would get called in to be audited, to be judged.  I read an article recently about how, before a workout or any kind of athletic activity, it's not good to spend too much time getting warmed up because it can make one tired and unnecessarily worn out.  I think this can be applied to the performing arts as well, where it's important to get all the muscles stretched and ready for showtime but there is such thing as overdoing it, over-warming up.  With five minutes to go I stopped and went to wait outside.

A fellow female violinist came out of the room a few minutes later.  She wore her hair in a high ponytail tied with a ribbon, a clean white blouse tucked into a skirt that hit right above her knees, and dress shoes.  She gave me a sympathetic smile before rushing to put away her instrument, leaving me more nervous and giving me one more item to my "shoulda/woulda/coulda" list of things to do before the audition.  A few weeks earlier I had talked to a friend about my audition and she advised me to look nice and wear a skirt.  "He (the conductor of the orchestra for which I was auditioning) likes girls who dress like girls", she had said.  I don't remember what I wore to the audition and back then I gave much less thought to the way I dressed and did my hair than I do now.

As with most auditions, this one was a blur.  I remember being told to start when ready; I remember playing and not executing difficult passage well; I remember stopping and already knowing that I had done terribly.  The adjudicators were kind about it though.  Or rather, they didn't openly express their disgust at having spent that time listening to me struggle.  One of them noticed that I had written in that I also played the clarinet.  I said yes, yes I do play the clarinet as well.  There might've been an exchange of glances between the two.  They thanked me and let me leave.

Ach! Right after I left I realized that the man who asked about clarinet playing was a clarinetist himself! And I knew his son, an oboe player, and had sat next to his son many times in the high school band!  I should've made some witty comment about "us clarinet players, amiright?"  But I didn't.  And it wouldn't have made a difference.

To this day that is my worst audition ever, and I work to make sure it stays that way.

Possibly the first live show I ever saw



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I remember my first and only theatre-in-the-round performance. It was about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. I think it was 2nd grade. It was an exciting production. For the scenes of stealing away into the night, the whole theatre was darkened to reveal hundreds of tiny lights all around the ceiling, with certain stars burning more brightly to indicate the Drinking Gourd constellation. Because it was a circular stage, with audience members seated all around, the actors were constantly moving around so that no one would be stuck seeing an actor's back for an extended period.  I know this because I took an intro. to theater class; at the time it all flowed very organically, very naturally.  There's a lot of tension within the whole plot of slaves on the run and catcher on their trail, and the constant motion of the actors added even more tension to the scenes.  Hmm, I try to think back and try to pick up more details, but that's all I remember: the perpetually moving actors, the dark theater with the twinkling lights, the feeling of wonder at the real-life story and of the way it was told in that live, performing arts setting.

Xena

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I was eight or nine when I regularly watched Xena: Warrior Princess on TV.  This was, of course, back when Saturday meant watching TV all day long, even if it was nice out and I wasn't particularly interested in anything that was on air.  That's probably how I started watching this show in the first place; I watched what was then called kidsWB! from whenever I woke up until about noon or 1pm, which was when they stopped running cartoons and kids shows.  Then I switched to what was then UPN to watch this show.

And I can't believe that I watched this when I was eight or nine! This show had some hard PG-13 stuff going on-- no bad language but a lot of violence and adult situations.  And I can't believe that my dad (Happy Father's day!) was okay with the fact that I watched this show. Three theories:
1) He didn't realize what kind of show I was watching and assumed it was a very battle-oriented cartoon
2) He realized what kind of show it was but didn't care that it had a lot of, uh...action
3) He realized what kind of show it was but thought that it was okay for me to see someone involved in that much action because it was done by a princess

I haven't seen an entire episode since I was a kid, but I remember how I felt and reacted to certain scenes; I'm sure I'd find them much less scary and much more campy in nature, just as present-day me can handle the scene in Star Wars: Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back where Luke gets his hand cut off.  If I have time and remember to do so I'd like to go back and see a few of those special episodes.

Stuff

Things I collect:
- fortune cookie papers
- sand
- instruments
- annoying habits
- foreign aphorisms
- words
- dream fragments
- postcards
- ticket stubs
- nail polish

Most of the things I collect are stuff: tangible, material objects. They have no inherent value other than what I impart onto them, with the exception of instruments.  I like collecting things; I'm a very disorganized person, careless, forgetful, a klutz.  Sometimes when I see commercials for one of those shows on hoarding I shudder and hope to God that I don't end up like that, especially since I harbor some of the same characteristics that hoarders exhibit.

It's easy to poke holes at the materialistic nature of the American culture, how as Americans we place so much value on things on stuff.  In the end, where does it all end up?  In a dump site, or dissolved into the earth, or maybe into a museum.  Most religions claim that we take nothing with us to the afterlife.  But stuff can make life better, easier, more comfortable.  No, buying more stuff won't make me happy, happiness can't be bought outright, but it can sometimes make acquisition of happiness a less complicated process.

Trailer review: Awake

This is not a typical trailer review in that this is for a TV series rather than a film.  Still, I really wanted to  document my reactions to it because  the trailer got me excited for what it presented :
- a detective procedural drama

- a story about a man living in parallel universes, tackled in a realistic way-- as a psychological, PTSD-type disorder-- rather than taking a science fiction slant. 

- a dark-haired Lucius Malfoy Jason Isaacs as the protagonist

- B.D. Wong playing another shrink in another NBC drama (this guy is too cool for school, did you know he once had a one-man show on Broadway?)

- an exploration of grief, choosing when and how to let go after the loss of a loved one

- another perspective on dreams vs. reality, of how to tell when you're awake and when you're not.  I bet this series was probably already in production before "Inception" came out, so the movie probably didn't have any impact on the creation of "Awake".  I think that in the wake (pun intended) of that film, this TV show could do well by exploring this field even further.  I've never seen Sliding Doors but I imagine that, since that movie deals with parallel universes/alternate realities, this show will draw something from that as well.  I'm most interested in the ways that the two worlds overlap and maybe influence each other, perhaps helping Isaacs character gather information from one side to help solve a case on the other.  (Slightly related digression: Recently I went to go pay for something in cash but realized that I only had one dollar when I thought I had ten ones; that night I dreamt that I looked in my wallet and found a Hamilton staring back at me.)

This series reminds me of another NBC detective procedural, called Life. I really liked it, but it got axed after two seasons.  I'll have to write another post on why I liked it so much.

Bun in the oven?

That phrase absolutely tickles me, to say that a woman has a "bun in the oven" if she's pregnant.  It leads to some funny imagery, as recounted by the woman at the 1:16 mark:


Reminds me of another food-pregnancy analogy made by one of my heroines, the incomparable Carrie Fisher:
Someone's summered in my stomach
Somene's fallen through my legs,
To make an infant omelet,
Simply scramble sperm and eggs
- from her book "Wishful Drinking"

What is it about babies and edibility?  More than once I've found myself thinking "That baby is so cute that I want to eat it!"  Wh do I feel that way? I don't even eat meat, or literally wish to consume infants and yet this phrasee is the most apt one for the way I sometimes feel.  And cannabalism is generallly frowned upon, and maltreatment of babies-- born and unborn (fetus'? fetuses? fetii?)-- is similarly discouraged, to say the least.

Personal vs. public space

While in the city and waiting for a friend to show up, a group of tourists approached me and asked me for directions to a popular landmark and my recommendation for somewhere to eat.  I directed them to the path they were looking for and offered a nearby tourist hotspot as a surefire place to find something for everyone.  "A tourist place, huh? What do you mean by that?" one of the men said jokingly while he gave a firm pat to the upper part of my right arm.  Then he and his companions thanked me and went off in the direction I had pointed.  I felt pleased with myself that I was helpful, useful.

Immediately after I starting thinking about that body contact the man had made.  It was a friendly gesture, spoken concurrent with light-hearted words of mock-offense.  I didn't mind that he had touched my shoulder; it seemed to come naturally to him to make that kind of action toward me, a stranger.  The man didn't seem to have any accent--nothing to attribute his friendliness to the "Southern gentleman" character. I'm not a touchy-touchy person, not with complete strangers.  But it doesn't bother me much to, say, ride a crowded bus or train car where I have no choice but to bump up against people I don't know (I usually end up staring at people's chests and armpits).

A matter of perspective

...get it? I'm a unicorn.

Of course I wasn't aware of this at the time the picture was taken.  My friends and I were running around, jumping off these random stone blocks when one of my friends told me to stop, turn my head slightly and look down.  She took two shots (the first one came out blurry) before letting me get off and see what was soo fuunnnnny.

The moral of this story: it's all how you look at it. (Or something like that).

Quick reaction to "X-Men: First Class"



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 I saw X-Men: First Class more than a week ago. Overall I liked this movie.  I wouldn't mind seeing it in theaters again but I'm not terribly passionate about this film.  Some lingering thoughts:

Raiders anniversary

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Today marks the 30th anniversary of the release of Raiders of the Lost Ark (12 June 1981).  This is my favorite film in the trilogy series, which is why I think it is the best.  So many classic scenes and characters: Harrison Ford as Dr. Indiana Freaking Jones! Melting Nazis! Asps! (Very dangerous--you go first).

Digression: I think somewhere in the black hole that is my family's VHS collection lies this film.  I'm not sure why I don't have a DVD of it even though I count it as one of my all-time favorite films.  Five or six summers ago I went through a George Lucas/Harrison Ford binge by watching the (original) Star Wars trilogy and the (originally a trilogy) Indiana Jones movies at least twice.  I was struck by how Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl borrowed from Raiders scenes.  When it comes to the female lead:
1) Both are damsels in distress, but not so completely and utterly useless.  Marion Ravenwood wields a mighty frying pan, and Elizabeth Swann at least attempts to get that sword off its mounting when the pirates are pursuing her in her mansion.
2) Both are forced by their respective captors to wear dresses...  Marion a white (wedding?) dress, Elizabeth a dark ruby-black dress ("it matches your heart!" she spatters.)
3) ...then allowed to eat with their respective captors...
4) ...then conceal a dinner knife and distract their captors by acting against their true feelings... Marion pretends to get drunk (cuz, you know, them women dunno how to hold their liquor); Elizabeth acts the lady
5) ...then seize what seems like the opportune moment to take the knife and threaten the man with it, but it doesn't help in the end.
6) Both their fathers had an big influence in shaping the future and character of their love interests/the male lead and protagonist.

I didn't know this until I came across this article, but Dr. Jones' seems to be based at least in part by a real life archaeologist.  Aside from Sherlock Holmes, who was loosely based on the real Dr. Joseph Bell,  I cannot readily come up with a hero who is equal parts brain and brawn, scholar and adventurer.  (I'm sure there are other fictional men and women out there but my brain is just too much in a fog and I feel like shoehorning a reference to the illustrious detective).  Both even have iconic hats!  Although that has more to do with actor Basil Rathbone than the original book description.

I know I'm on thin ice if I even suggest that I enjoyed Kingdom of the Crystal Skull; but I think that, even after that, adventure's name is "Indiana Jones".  And yes, if when the fifth film comes out, which was once rumoured to be set in/around the Bermuda Triangle, you can bet your bullwhip that I'll go see it in theaters and still keep Raiders on my favorites list.

Even fictional characters need to eat

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One thing that really struck me about The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was how author Stieg Larsson did a good job feeding his characters.  It might just be me, since I have the constitution and appetite of a hobbit, but it seemed like the two main characters ate a lot of sandwiches.  They smoked a fair amount of cigarettes too, but they also relieved stress by breaking bread, alone or with each other.  I really appreciate it when an author remembers that just because it's a thriller and the plot is full of suspense doesn't mean that the character's aren't superhuman and still have the same basic human drive of needing food (and water, and sex).

This got me to thinking about other books in which the author makes a point in feeding the characters well:

Things that drive me batty, part III

Typos/misspelled words

MORONS!
If I were a Moran I'd be insulted.  "Moran" automatically makes me think of Mr. Sebastian Moran, featured in The Adventure of the Empty House. According to Sherlock Holmes Moran is the second-most dangerous man in England (Prof. Moriarty is/was the most dangerous).

I'm no Scripps kid but I was always pretty good at spelling.  I was a bookworm-- still love to read but can't do so as voraciously as in the past. I value it (good spelling and grammar), and must admit that it irks me to see words misspelled or misused, e.g. "hear" instead of "here"; "there" instead of "their" or "they're", etc.  It's not completely fair of me, though, because American English is fraught with sooo many inconsistencies; there are just as many loopholes as rules when it comes to how and why a word is spelled the way it is.  Even the word "spelled/misspelled" can also be written "spelt/misspelt".  Why?  Well, why not?

(I just contradicted myself there, didn't I? Hmm.  Well, there's nothing concrete, no real rhyme or reason as to why certain things drive me batty, but it is what it is.)

Casi insoportable

I know, I know, the weather's your typical safe, boring conversation topic, but here in New England the weather's always changing, always a genuine topic of interest.  Last night the weathermen were threatening that we'd hit up to 100 degrees Fahrenheit up here; thankfully it's only in the mid 90s (<-- HA!  After an almost record-breaking amount of snow and unusually long winter it's amusing to think that I actually typed that sentence).  The heat and humidity are casi insoportable-- almost unbearable.  I say almost because I don't mean to employ the 'hyperbole by youth' by bemoaning the current weather conditions as "like, the worst thing everrrrrrrr, amiright?"; I'm sure somewhere it's got to be worse out.  Somewhere out there.

Still, I have to admit that I really dig thunderstorms; they can be really spiritual.  I don't mean this in the obvious, cleansing sense of 'washing away sins' or anything like that, but just the fact that weather can be so powerful and electric, and the sense that this experience is being shared with you  by countless other people.  As humankind we've tamed rivers by building dams, harnessed wind and solar power; we've been able to clone animals and genetically alter plants to be sweeter and aesthetically pleasing-- and yet we can't control the weather.

Another commercial

I know I just did one of these a few days ago but I just found that this was posted, and so I must comment without delay:

This one is half as long as the other commercials, but it is equally effective, affecting and funny.

1) I'm glad that Mr. Krasinski made sure that it was safe for animals.  I'm not vegetarian out of sympathy for animals but that doesn't mean I can't be indignant and offended when they're decorated inhumanly.
2) I still agree: it was totally worth it.
3) I love the squelchy sound of Mr. Baldwin's shoes on that floor.  I could listen to that for...well, not hours, but for a while.
4) Sadly, I cannot readily identify Mr. Krasinski's ringtone in this commericial.

Dropping some eaves

I took a particularly long bus trip recently, and in the row diagonally across from mine two strangers engaged in a very candid conversation.  I have no idea how their conversation started-- probably sometime during the wait in line for the delayed bus-- but the bulk of it was had on the bus.  One was a mother of two in her 50s, the other a 20-year-old man.  They were the only ones talking in the bus, so it wasn't difficult to hear what they said.

And what they had to say!  I basically learned both of their life stories, a SparkNotes version, if you will.  The mother was visiting one of her sons, who was determined to see three shows with her that weekend.  I didn't catch her career, but her work paid for her to have an iPad (gorgeous, wonderful piece of equipment, that), which she brought with her for the trip.  In addition to that also owned an iPhone, a Kindle and a laptop.  She had some kind of connection with someone who worked in the theatre industry, which was fortuitous for the young man sitting next to her.  He had written a musical adaptation of a famous children's book and was in the midst of casting actors and entering the production for a theatre festival.  They exchanged personal information and while on the bus (thank you, technology) they Friended each other on Facebook so that they could continue communication after the bus ride was over.  Of all places...it really is a marvel, the randomness of life and the people you meet, whether purposefully or unintentionally, whether you've know them for 10 years or 10 minutes.

Commercial analysis: Lovestruck by Vera Wang

1. Love that dress!  What a gorgeous color and ravishing shape!

2.  But I wonder it's like to walk in it, if that's even possible.  Luck for Leighton Meester, actress from my former guilty pleasure TV series Gossip Girl,  all she has to do in this commercial is stand in one place, and occasionally show her impatience by looking and leaning over the balcony railing.

3.  It annoys me slightly that her movement is restricted by her dress, so that she is unable to rush to her beau the way he rushes up to her.  It's very damsel-in-distress.  I get that it's "romantic" in that He goes through all this trouble to get to Her, and that She justcantwait for him to get there.  As cheesy as it is, I prefer the whole "two people running in slow motion to each other from opposite sides of a field" to this admittedly cheeky, coyly waiting maiden and her valiant suitor.

4.  I love peonies!  How thoughtful of Him to get Her that bouquet!

5.  But-- she throws them down and away!  They were so pretty!  Sure, He's the real object of beauty here, but I would've held onto those flowers.

6.  Interesting, that the first thing She does after tossing the flowers (shame on you!) is to hug him.  I was expecting a kiss, and it's notable (at least to me) that the commercial never shows them kissing, although it can sort of be implied that they do, by the proximity of their faces at the end.

7. I wish my hair could naturally have that texture.  I bet it took a lot of choreography to get her hair to that effortlessly wavy and tousled condition.  I have neither the time nor patience to work my own locks into submission.  Although this is a commercial for perfume, I think it could just as easily be one for a hair product.  All it needs is a better close-up of Her hands going through His hair.

Mellow yellow

I think my skin is naturally a bit dark, as far as Koreans go.  My skin does tan but I never intentionally tan, as I'm happy with the color of my skin as it is.  I wear sunblock but I'm not very attentive with it; if I get tan lines I get tan lines, and I've only ever gotten sunburn twice in my life.

I have very yellow skin.  Sometimes I feel that I don't tan so much as I get a deeper brown-yellow tone.  Generally I don't mind my yellowness in the literal sense.  I like that I have a warm skin tone.  I don't like pastels (spring tones) and look terribly jaundice and sickly when I wear any soft, creamy color.  I only started to notice this in high school; funny that it was then that I began to be more attentive to color in the literal and figurative sense.

Batman and beyond

This, ladies and gentlemen, is how I learned the word “apathy”.

Aah, Saturday morning cartoons on kidsWB...I thought this was the coolest title sequence evv-arr when this show first came out.  It’s a good representation of the moody, futuristic tone of the series.  This series is responsible for my fascination with Batman—I didn’t grow up reading comic books or anything like that; Batman has always struck me as particularly interesting.  He bears a lot in common with my other male literary heroes:  The Scarlet Pimpernel, Sherlock Holmes, the Count of Monte Cristo.  All employ disguises and live double lives, interpret the law in their own way and have a strict moral (or amoral) code or sense of justice and righting wrongs.

Oh, Neville...

Neville Longbottom never really ranked on my list of favorite secondary characters from the Harry Potter series, but after having finished the entire series and seeing this character poster I realized that I'm really a fan. 

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A fan?  A supporter?  I like him a lot more now.  He was forever the hapless Gryffindor, constantly berated by many of his professors; someone who did better with plants than with people.  Neville was a side character that elicited an "aww, poor kid" reaction, but never stirred up any stronger reactions from me.  Even when, in the fifth book, we got a chance to see him with his permanently brain-damaged mother I felt only slightly more sympathetic. 

But now that I look back on his character development I can really appreciate how he's grown-- especially in the last book, my goodness!  He's rebellious, a leader, an adult.

Just dance

Confession: I watched The Bachelorette  on Sunday.  I don't typically watch it but my curiosity (and boredom, mayhaps) got the best of me as I found myself flipping through the channels that night.  Don't judge me solely on that piece of information!

The bachelorette, a dentist with a passion for dance, brought 12 of her suitors to Las Vegas, divided them into two dance crews and gave them 30 minutes to come up with a dance (to impress her).  I felt bad for these men, who came to Sin City only to have to earn a mini-date with the bachelorette, not through luck or strategy but through their body movement and gestures.  It's one thing to move about in a sporatically lit club while mashed against other writhing bodies, and it's a completely different matter when dancing in sync with five other people on a stage.  I didn't actually watch their dances due to secondhand embarassment; I regularly make a fool of myself and I don't tend to savor watching others put themselves in potentially embarassing situations.

Dance seems to be a bigger deal with women, yeah? If a man isn't a good dancer it's not a big deal, not as expected; the man is apt to be able to laugh it off good-naturedly and proclaim that it in no way implies incompetence in any other field of experience.  Females tend to feel more self-conscious in the first place, worrying about things like do I smell okay?  Is my hair getting undone?  Are my breasts in place?  Does my muffin top show? I'm rather impulsive (or intuitive) and tend to Just Dance! and find out afterward that I was dangerously close to some sort of hair/wardrobe malfunction.  I haven't done ballet in almost ten years but I'm still somewhat flexible and aware of the limits of my body and how to move.  I've never been graceful but I've managed.

Rabbit Rabbit!

June already?!

I try to make sure to say "rabbit rabbit" first thing when the first day of a new month comes along.  I remember sporatically and feel good-- accomplished, even-- when I remember to say it.  I haven't done any research as to how my saying "rabbit rabbit" correlates or doesn't correlate to having a good month.  Eh.

I'm not very superstitious, but I have my own habits that aren't completely rational:
- as I've mentioned before I eat a banana before any violin performance for which I am anxious
- when chosing a number (e.g. for a locker at the gym) I avoid prime numbers and try to go for ones that are multiples of 3.
-  I don't check my horoscope, but when I do come across one in the paper I only read it if it's near the end of the day, so I don't catch myself in a self-fulfilling prophesy.
- when watching sports and my team is losing I don't vocalize any doubts about their chances of winning