Hello world!
I have stepped up my stuff, and now i can post to this blog from my phone. The upside is more me!
The downside, from my point of view, is that i can't post pictures from my phone. here, anyway--I have already posted quite a few over at my art blog on tumblr. Claricaandtheart. I'd link, but that would be way beyond my toolbox for phone posting.
Which is a gross exaggeration. I can link by hand. I presume if i included html it would slide right in. I'm just lazy, right now.
Cheers!
-----
Clarica
20 November, 2012
24 August, 2012
And the card attached would say... does this card smell funny?
I am someone who once weighed over 350 pounds, and it should come as no surprise to you that I haven't spent a lot of time hungry. Or with an empty stomach, if that's different from hunger. I used to not even be able to tell that I was full, but eventually I figured that out. Which is kind of an exaggeration, because I didn't figure it out. There was no exploration and revelation or rational sleuthing involved... just one day, I overate, and for a change I felt icky instead of pleasantly numbed.
I wasn't trying to feel pleasantly numbed or anything by overeating... although come to think of it, 'trying' is totally the wrong verb. I mean, I did used to have an irrational fear of malnutrition, but I wasn't 'trying' to 'correct' the 'malnourishment' with lots of food. I was way more of a thoughtless eater. No agenda.
What I'm trying to get at, instead of 'oops, I ate it again' commentary, is that hunger is a surprise to me, now that I don't overeat as regularly. I'm totally not used to it, and if I still had pleasantly numbed as an option, I'd probably pick that, because 'hungry', if that's what it is, is totally a drag.
But it's totally normal, and while I do have to do something about it, at least two or three times a day, I plan to figure out how sit with it without thinking I have to get up and do something about it.
It's totally late at night as I write this, and I am hungry, but I was just reading this great book by Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess ("Let's Pretend This Never Happened"), and I wanted to do a book review about that time that the goat went and slept in my parent's bed, and not because my sister and I pranked them. We were innocent! We didn't even leave the front door open!
But you don't do a book review about that time the goat waltzed into your home, right? I mean, it wasn't even in the book! Though there were goats in the house in Jenny's book, and god bless her for it, if there is a god.
And I'm too tired right now to tell a coherent story, which is a real pity because I've got some doozies. So I'll just go for my traditional abrupt ending with additional non-sequitur cliff hanger. (I know, it is cruel. Sorry.)
And just end with
Grand
Theft
Tarp.
I wasn't trying to feel pleasantly numbed or anything by overeating... although come to think of it, 'trying' is totally the wrong verb. I mean, I did used to have an irrational fear of malnutrition, but I wasn't 'trying' to 'correct' the 'malnourishment' with lots of food. I was way more of a thoughtless eater. No agenda.
What I'm trying to get at, instead of 'oops, I ate it again' commentary, is that hunger is a surprise to me, now that I don't overeat as regularly. I'm totally not used to it, and if I still had pleasantly numbed as an option, I'd probably pick that, because 'hungry', if that's what it is, is totally a drag.
But it's totally normal, and while I do have to do something about it, at least two or three times a day, I plan to figure out how sit with it without thinking I have to get up and do something about it.
It's totally late at night as I write this, and I am hungry, but I was just reading this great book by Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess ("Let's Pretend This Never Happened"), and I wanted to do a book review about that time that the goat went and slept in my parent's bed, and not because my sister and I pranked them. We were innocent! We didn't even leave the front door open!
But you don't do a book review about that time the goat waltzed into your home, right? I mean, it wasn't even in the book! Though there were goats in the house in Jenny's book, and god bless her for it, if there is a god.
And I'm too tired right now to tell a coherent story, which is a real pity because I've got some doozies. So I'll just go for my traditional abrupt ending with additional non-sequitur cliff hanger. (I know, it is cruel. Sorry.)
And just end with
Grand
Theft
Tarp.
16 August, 2012
self-contorted existence
I just finished a great book today, by Alison Bechdel. Are You My Mother. She's an artist and storyteller who wrote (writes?) Dykes to watch out for, and in some ways this book is a sequel to a book about her father that I have not yet discovered. He was apparently homosexual, and committed suicide while she was away from college. I say apparently there not to suggest that it is or is not actually so--I don't know, I don't have any investment either way, and it strikes me as weird that I chose that word there, to make clear to others that this man's orientation is not something I have personal experience of.
I must digress to say that blogger apparently disapproves of my posting this entry today, because it keeps warning mt that errors are occurring while (automatically) trying to save or publish my post. I couldn't get the whole internet to work at all the first time I came over to share this book review with y'all, about 20 minutes before I finished the book, but now the opposition has narrowed.
At any rate, this book is about herself and her mother and what she did about that, and includes a lot of therapeutic information about mothering and identity formation that was really fascinating and wonderful. There's a guy I'd never heard of, Donald Winnicott, who has some good enough theories about stuff and things, particularly childhood development as influenced by caretakers. (This sentence make my enthusiasm for Donald seem rather tepid, but it is in fact the opposite. If I weren't writing a review of this book and how great it is, I'd be writing about Donald, and how great he was. Just with a lot less coherency or detail, because I know a whole lot more about this book than I do about DW.)
Internal feelings of alienation are explained by DW, as far as I can tell, as the creation of a "false self" to protect the "true self". The false self intercedes to interact with the big scary world, where it is perceived that authentic reactions are somehow rejected, and are prevented from expression with 'artificial' or edited reactions presented instead. I don't have a lot of these feelings of alienation, but I do recognize the process as part of the 'pleaser' phenomenon, which I'm sure not everybody has heard of, but I'm not going to go into it right now, except to say if you shout at me I will probably make nice and then try to avoid you. Making nice is an asset to civilization, but it is inauthentic, and over-mediation of one's own impulses... well, I have no idea where this sentence was going, but I assume it was going to be AWESOME. sorry. (isn't that funny how I over-mediated my creative impulse so far as to literally forget what I was writing about? luckily it won't kill me, because it happens all the time.)
That aside, I love that the title of this book is the same as the title of a well-known children's book, doubtless intentionally. It's sooooo cool.
I found this book in the library as part of a display, "new non-fiction"? It still has a 'new' sticker on it. I wasn't really looking for a book, I was just taking my sister, visiting from out of state, to check out some stuff for her to read while she visits for two weeks, and found it (and a couple of others) while I was waiting for her to make her selections.
I thought a lot about the Bechdel test while reading this book. The Bechdel test is not very valuable to me personally, because it's not better at selecting movies that I will enjoy and be willing to invest in than I already am. Why aren't people making more movies that pass the Bechdel test? Probably because society (and natural instincts) demand that the false self (and true self) step up and present a good-enough mother almost every time some lady has a baby. (Whether or not there are gender differences in drive or competitiveness or the expression thereof).
The latest movie that I adored was the original Bogart and Audrey Hepburn oldie 'Sabrina'.
It's hot out today and I took a break to eat lunch and splash my nephew in the kiddie pool. Now I can't remember any of the other million interesting things I was going to tell you, so let me just leave off.
I must digress to say that blogger apparently disapproves of my posting this entry today, because it keeps warning mt that errors are occurring while (automatically) trying to save or publish my post. I couldn't get the whole internet to work at all the first time I came over to share this book review with y'all, about 20 minutes before I finished the book, but now the opposition has narrowed.
At any rate, this book is about herself and her mother and what she did about that, and includes a lot of therapeutic information about mothering and identity formation that was really fascinating and wonderful. There's a guy I'd never heard of, Donald Winnicott, who has some good enough theories about stuff and things, particularly childhood development as influenced by caretakers. (This sentence make my enthusiasm for Donald seem rather tepid, but it is in fact the opposite. If I weren't writing a review of this book and how great it is, I'd be writing about Donald, and how great he was. Just with a lot less coherency or detail, because I know a whole lot more about this book than I do about DW.)
Internal feelings of alienation are explained by DW, as far as I can tell, as the creation of a "false self" to protect the "true self". The false self intercedes to interact with the big scary world, where it is perceived that authentic reactions are somehow rejected, and are prevented from expression with 'artificial' or edited reactions presented instead. I don't have a lot of these feelings of alienation, but I do recognize the process as part of the 'pleaser' phenomenon, which I'm sure not everybody has heard of, but I'm not going to go into it right now, except to say if you shout at me I will probably make nice and then try to avoid you. Making nice is an asset to civilization, but it is inauthentic, and over-mediation of one's own impulses... well, I have no idea where this sentence was going, but I assume it was going to be AWESOME. sorry. (isn't that funny how I over-mediated my creative impulse so far as to literally forget what I was writing about? luckily it won't kill me, because it happens all the time.)
That aside, I love that the title of this book is the same as the title of a well-known children's book, doubtless intentionally. It's sooooo cool.
I found this book in the library as part of a display, "new non-fiction"? It still has a 'new' sticker on it. I wasn't really looking for a book, I was just taking my sister, visiting from out of state, to check out some stuff for her to read while she visits for two weeks, and found it (and a couple of others) while I was waiting for her to make her selections.
I thought a lot about the Bechdel test while reading this book. The Bechdel test is not very valuable to me personally, because it's not better at selecting movies that I will enjoy and be willing to invest in than I already am. Why aren't people making more movies that pass the Bechdel test? Probably because society (and natural instincts) demand that the false self (and true self) step up and present a good-enough mother almost every time some lady has a baby. (Whether or not there are gender differences in drive or competitiveness or the expression thereof).
The latest movie that I adored was the original Bogart and Audrey Hepburn oldie 'Sabrina'.
It's hot out today and I took a break to eat lunch and splash my nephew in the kiddie pool. Now I can't remember any of the other million interesting things I was going to tell you, so let me just leave off.
03 July, 2012
Don't know my own self
I don't know what it is about hockey movies, but I love them. Ok, two of them. There's the classic, Slap Shot, which I've liked for many years. And then there's the one I saw last night, and then stayed up late (and I mean LATE...) to watch it a second time.
Goon.
On the face of it, there's really not much for a girl like me to find appealing. Well, except Seann William Scott, and Liev Schreiber, who are both totally cupcake worthy.
But it's not even that, really. I like Seann William Scott in movies because he's had this kind of crazy gleam in his eye, and he didn't have it in this movie.
And there's a lot of brutal violence, which I really don't go for. But I think the difference was that it was sort of lighthearted. It wasn't a grudge match, good-vs-evil confrontation kind of a deal. I don't like that whole 'crush thine enemies' vibe, and while I heartily endorse good winning over evil, I'd prefer to keep evil off screen. I'm a sensitive soul, I don't need to see them plumb the depths of depravity to feel invested. This had a light touch--sad sack makes happy.
And this movie had some great transitional moments with the wind having a supporting role. Wind. Go figure.
And the underlying theme of finding your groove is totally cool too.
Goon.
On the face of it, there's really not much for a girl like me to find appealing. Well, except Seann William Scott, and Liev Schreiber, who are both totally cupcake worthy.
But it's not even that, really. I like Seann William Scott in movies because he's had this kind of crazy gleam in his eye, and he didn't have it in this movie.
And there's a lot of brutal violence, which I really don't go for. But I think the difference was that it was sort of lighthearted. It wasn't a grudge match, good-vs-evil confrontation kind of a deal. I don't like that whole 'crush thine enemies' vibe, and while I heartily endorse good winning over evil, I'd prefer to keep evil off screen. I'm a sensitive soul, I don't need to see them plumb the depths of depravity to feel invested. This had a light touch--sad sack makes happy.
And this movie had some great transitional moments with the wind having a supporting role. Wind. Go figure.
And the underlying theme of finding your groove is totally cool too.
28 June, 2012
Subversion of the expectation
"Research carried out at the University of Southampton has concluded that
participants in drug trials should be better informed about the
potential significant benefits and possible side-effects of placebos."
Now, I don't want to knock placebos. An oncologist invented that flower essences thingamagiggy because of the research coming out on the positive effects of placebos, and he had nothing better.
But I really wish they hadn't brought up the possible side-effects of placebos, because now I KNOW I'm going to suffer from them, hypochondriac that I am.
At any rate, when I found out about this research, I laughed out loud, and that's worth something.
I sent a postcard to my sister this week that said "Does this postcard smell funny?"
What does funny smell like, anyway? Certainly that postcard!
Now, I don't want to knock placebos. An oncologist invented that flower essences thingamagiggy because of the research coming out on the positive effects of placebos, and he had nothing better.
But I really wish they hadn't brought up the possible side-effects of placebos, because now I KNOW I'm going to suffer from them, hypochondriac that I am.
At any rate, when I found out about this research, I laughed out loud, and that's worth something.
I sent a postcard to my sister this week that said "Does this postcard smell funny?"
What does funny smell like, anyway? Certainly that postcard!
13 June, 2012
My Boring Ass Life
No, no NO! Not *my* boring-ass life. Kevin Smith's.
I checked this book out from the library because I really wanted to read a different book that he wrote (can't remember what) but this was the one I could check out at the time.
As storylines go, it sucks rocks. It's like a year's worth of blog entries of his day-to-day life, and I swear to god he includes every loaf he pinches out. Which reminds me I have to look up what a beer shit is, and I'm a bit trepidatious, because there is no eraser for the brain, and we all know the internet has no brakes. And I digress.
It's not really that it's a fascinating insight into a more-interesting-than-mine film-making life, and I'm definitely not one of those guys who follow the gossip rags to live vicariously on the publication of celebrity. That stuff's in there, but it is embedded in a matrix of the everyday stuff that doesn't really make a good story, but make a good life. And I'm not even halfway through.
This was apparently all published on his view askew online forum, which I don't read because I'm not that much of a movie geek. Or a Kevin Smith Geek. Though I do appreciate his work, even this boring-ass-yet-can't-put-it-down book. Kudos.
I checked this book out from the library because I really wanted to read a different book that he wrote (can't remember what) but this was the one I could check out at the time.
As storylines go, it sucks rocks. It's like a year's worth of blog entries of his day-to-day life, and I swear to god he includes every loaf he pinches out. Which reminds me I have to look up what a beer shit is, and I'm a bit trepidatious, because there is no eraser for the brain, and we all know the internet has no brakes. And I digress.
It's not really that it's a fascinating insight into a more-interesting-than-mine film-making life, and I'm definitely not one of those guys who follow the gossip rags to live vicariously on the publication of celebrity. That stuff's in there, but it is embedded in a matrix of the everyday stuff that doesn't really make a good story, but make a good life. And I'm not even halfway through.
This was apparently all published on his view askew online forum, which I don't read because I'm not that much of a movie geek. Or a Kevin Smith Geek. Though I do appreciate his work, even this boring-ass-yet-can't-put-it-down book. Kudos.
09 June, 2012
An Invitation
A funny thing happened to me on the way to... wherever it is I'm going. I got distracted! But I'm here today to tell you a riveting story... About Last Night.
I woke myself up. Because of a dream sneeze. Seriously! I was dreaming that I was crashing at a friend's house, and his whole family came by in the middle of the night to drop of leftovers and har de har me. I think we gave the leftovers to a homeless waif. In the parking garage next door.
And I sneezed--in the dream. NOT in real life. JUST in the dream. It was pretty gross, like there was snot all over my arm and I cleaned it up and all, but I seriously wanted to take a dream shower.
I woke myself up. Because of a dream sneeze. Seriously! I was dreaming that I was crashing at a friend's house, and his whole family came by in the middle of the night to drop of leftovers and har de har me. I think we gave the leftovers to a homeless waif. In the parking garage next door.
And I sneezed--in the dream. NOT in real life. JUST in the dream. It was pretty gross, like there was snot all over my arm and I cleaned it up and all, but I seriously wanted to take a dream shower.
20 February, 2012
I saw another movie
This week it was: This Means War, which is a romantic action comedy, I guess. It was cute, with explosions and puppies. I liked it. There were people in it, mostly total cuties.
But what I can not stop boggling at is the preview for another movie. Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter.
Every time I start thinking about it, I can't decide if it is a HORRIBLE idea, or a BRILLIANT idea, and I'm leaning over towards brilliant, with a dash of lunatic.
Abraham Lincoln was apparently an axe-wielding vampire hunter. Who knew?
I didn't really see any of the vampires, or the menace they pose, but it's probably the usual. Blood sucking fiends of the night that find humans magically delicious. I'm always kind of interested in the vibe for vampires, it's different all the time. Moody? Sarcastic? Tormented? Feral?
I can not decide if I would go to see Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter. I'm just glad to know it exists.
But what I can not stop boggling at is the preview for another movie. Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter.
Every time I start thinking about it, I can't decide if it is a HORRIBLE idea, or a BRILLIANT idea, and I'm leaning over towards brilliant, with a dash of lunatic.
Abraham Lincoln was apparently an axe-wielding vampire hunter. Who knew?
I didn't really see any of the vampires, or the menace they pose, but it's probably the usual. Blood sucking fiends of the night that find humans magically delicious. I'm always kind of interested in the vibe for vampires, it's different all the time. Moody? Sarcastic? Tormented? Feral?
I can not decide if I would go to see Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter. I'm just glad to know it exists.
07 February, 2012
Not about Johnny Depp
I watched a movie last week that was pretty good, "Thumbsucker" with Vince Vaughn, Vincent D'Onofrio, and Lou Taylor Pucci, who played the title character, playing a junior in high school.
I picked this movie because I ADORE Vincent D'Onofrio, for reasons I cannot fully explain. I have not seen every movie he has been in, because I am a pansy who is not going to watch a movie called "Full Metal Jacket" no matter how good it might be. But everything I've seen him in, he has been riveting.
I also like Vince Vaughn, but I didn't really like his character in this movie, because, HELLO, he is a teacher who bought beer for students on an out of town trip. I am such a goody-two-shoes that I have trouble believing that this would ever happen, but not so naive as to believe that it NEVER happens. At any rate, I digress. Though seriously, who even likes beer? (OK, ok, I know people like beer.)
This movie is about the kid, who I found extremely distracting on two levels. First of all, he bears some indefinable resemblance to one of my own best friends from high school, Ben. And secondly, he bears an UNCANNY resemblance to Johnny Depp. Which leads me to the confusing confluence of opinion that maybe my friend Ben looks like Johnny Depp in some way? I always thought my cousin Billy did, but whatever.
When actually my cousin Billy looks exactly like my grandpa. It's not a big surprise, they're related-- but the idea that my grandpa might have looked like Johnny Depp too is a sudden surprise to me as I'm writing this, and really I just want to skip right past this and get back to the movie.
Mind you, I think Johnny Depp is an excellent actor too. Just, sort of reserved in some way.
So, the kid's in high school, and doesn't have any friends, which is totally lame. But, oddly, it's not about that--it's about his academic listlessness and self-soothing thumb-sucking behavior. Oh, and did I mention Kenau Reeves is in this movie too? They pulled out ALL the stops. He's the orthodontist/hypnotist/pivotal influence character for this movie, which is odd because he kind of has a tiny role.
I should mention that Tidla Swinton is the Mom, and I found her part in the movie sort of confusing. But I won't tell you why, because I don't want to give EVERYthing away.
And I am writing a review of this movie for NO REASON. I actually wanted to talk about some music on the soundtrack, but this isn't the music I was thinking of! Whoops.
And since I can not figure out which movie has the music I am so drawn to, I will just explain that I LOVE the sound that you get on an acoustic guitar from the left hand switching and changing cords--particularly that sliding sound. I play a little guitar myself, and that sound in almost any music adds an extremely uplifting false feeling of accomplishment, because usually you only hear that sound when you're playing the guitar yourself--it's not amplified like the notes played over the sound box are. The only recording I can think of right now where you can hear this is almost any track from The Creek Drank the Cradle by Iron & Wine, a favorite of mine.
Another abrupt conclusion, brought to you by the vocabulary booster: Pecksniff. I'm totally not telling you what THAT means. Though it is totally safe for work.
I picked this movie because I ADORE Vincent D'Onofrio, for reasons I cannot fully explain. I have not seen every movie he has been in, because I am a pansy who is not going to watch a movie called "Full Metal Jacket" no matter how good it might be. But everything I've seen him in, he has been riveting.
I also like Vince Vaughn, but I didn't really like his character in this movie, because, HELLO, he is a teacher who bought beer for students on an out of town trip. I am such a goody-two-shoes that I have trouble believing that this would ever happen, but not so naive as to believe that it NEVER happens. At any rate, I digress. Though seriously, who even likes beer? (OK, ok, I know people like beer.)
This movie is about the kid, who I found extremely distracting on two levels. First of all, he bears some indefinable resemblance to one of my own best friends from high school, Ben. And secondly, he bears an UNCANNY resemblance to Johnny Depp. Which leads me to the confusing confluence of opinion that maybe my friend Ben looks like Johnny Depp in some way? I always thought my cousin Billy did, but whatever.
When actually my cousin Billy looks exactly like my grandpa. It's not a big surprise, they're related-- but the idea that my grandpa might have looked like Johnny Depp too is a sudden surprise to me as I'm writing this, and really I just want to skip right past this and get back to the movie.
Mind you, I think Johnny Depp is an excellent actor too. Just, sort of reserved in some way.
So, the kid's in high school, and doesn't have any friends, which is totally lame. But, oddly, it's not about that--it's about his academic listlessness and self-soothing thumb-sucking behavior. Oh, and did I mention Kenau Reeves is in this movie too? They pulled out ALL the stops. He's the orthodontist/hypnotist/pivotal influence character for this movie, which is odd because he kind of has a tiny role.
I should mention that Tidla Swinton is the Mom, and I found her part in the movie sort of confusing. But I won't tell you why, because I don't want to give EVERYthing away.
And I am writing a review of this movie for NO REASON. I actually wanted to talk about some music on the soundtrack, but this isn't the music I was thinking of! Whoops.
And since I can not figure out which movie has the music I am so drawn to, I will just explain that I LOVE the sound that you get on an acoustic guitar from the left hand switching and changing cords--particularly that sliding sound. I play a little guitar myself, and that sound in almost any music adds an extremely uplifting false feeling of accomplishment, because usually you only hear that sound when you're playing the guitar yourself--it's not amplified like the notes played over the sound box are. The only recording I can think of right now where you can hear this is almost any track from The Creek Drank the Cradle by Iron & Wine, a favorite of mine.
Another abrupt conclusion, brought to you by the vocabulary booster: Pecksniff. I'm totally not telling you what THAT means. Though it is totally safe for work.
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