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.
20 February, 2012
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.
08 November, 2011
Magic Horses, Great Jobs, and The science of impulse
I saw an old movie the other day or month or so ago, at a friend's house. Into the West is the story of a broken down family in Ireland and the horse that changes their lives. The two adorable urchins give marvelously satisfying performances, which isn't always the case with young performers. I'm going to give almost the whole plot of this 1992 movie away here, so if you're saving yourself for the willful suspension of disbelief (which I LOVE, but rarely have trouble capturing), read no further!
They are mad for movies from the old west, and have seen every western available in the local convenience stores. The horse that changes their lives is horse-napped by some bad guys, and by a crazy chance the kids find and attempt and succeed in getting him back!
But where to go? Home is no good--the neighbors complained about the horse and that's what got him taken away in the first place! (They did live several floors up in a cramped apartment building, but it seemed to be the idea of the horse that offended the neighbors rather than any specific offensive realities. Convention rather than public safety.)
They decide to make like cowboys or Indians, and head... Into the West. Then it's sort of an action/chase movie with comedy hijinks mixed in with the painful story of a half-healed grief... as a movie it's kind of got a lot of stories going at once, but they don't trip over each other TOO much.
At any rate, I've gone through ALL THAT to get to the start of my point... The last lines of the movie.
One of the kids asks their dad: Are we [as 'travelers'] cowboys or Indians? And he replies: There's a bit of a traveler in everybody, Tito. But very few of us know where we're goin'.
It was really my favorite part of the movie, and it is so neat that it WAS the end, because it's hard to get that kind of timing going!
And all this was in service of discussing an article from Steve Denning of Forbes Magazine, about the 10 Happiest Jobs. Unfortunately this is based on self-reporting, but some of the conclusions of the article are, of course, valuable.
Like this: "However, for a life to be meaningful, it must also be worthwhile. Engagement in a life of tiddlywinks does not rise to the level of a meaningful life, no matter how gripped one might be by the game." (Todd May, The New York Times)
But one thing absolutely grated on me, enough so that it is the final, undeniable impulse to write today's blog post.
"...with a focus on delighting the customer through continuous innovation..."
Now, as a customer, I am not bothered by innovation. But Newer does not make Better. And companies that are working to engage their employees in new and innovative ways, as well as their customers, are all very well. But a 'new look' does not offer anything newer than looks, and for people who have been participating for a while, a 'new look' is a 'can't find anything anymore' problem. Which I hate.
Some of this stuff is not mere economics, and I do not want anyone to be hurt when I suggest that delighting (or confusing) the customer may have a financial bottom line.
Harvard professor Jennifer Lerner (of the Harvard Decision Science Lab) says that anger makes people optimistic and risk-seeking. (Fear has the opposite effect.) Sadness will make you eager to buy!
Does continuous innovation stimulate anger and sadness? Are we entering some post-celebratory period of consumerism where nostalgia drives impulse buying? Or did that ship already sail when the home shopping network came to cable TV in the US in 1985?
The difference between what we are like and what we THINK we are like is an interesting question, one I have been considering with some seriousness as I shape up my prospects. The difference between what we like and what we think we like is pretty much the same question. Or is it?
They are mad for movies from the old west, and have seen every western available in the local convenience stores. The horse that changes their lives is horse-napped by some bad guys, and by a crazy chance the kids find and attempt and succeed in getting him back!
But where to go? Home is no good--the neighbors complained about the horse and that's what got him taken away in the first place! (They did live several floors up in a cramped apartment building, but it seemed to be the idea of the horse that offended the neighbors rather than any specific offensive realities. Convention rather than public safety.)
They decide to make like cowboys or Indians, and head... Into the West. Then it's sort of an action/chase movie with comedy hijinks mixed in with the painful story of a half-healed grief... as a movie it's kind of got a lot of stories going at once, but they don't trip over each other TOO much.
At any rate, I've gone through ALL THAT to get to the start of my point... The last lines of the movie.
One of the kids asks their dad: Are we [as 'travelers'] cowboys or Indians? And he replies: There's a bit of a traveler in everybody, Tito. But very few of us know where we're goin'.
It was really my favorite part of the movie, and it is so neat that it WAS the end, because it's hard to get that kind of timing going!
And all this was in service of discussing an article from Steve Denning of Forbes Magazine, about the 10 Happiest Jobs. Unfortunately this is based on self-reporting, but some of the conclusions of the article are, of course, valuable.
Like this: "However, for a life to be meaningful, it must also be worthwhile. Engagement in a life of tiddlywinks does not rise to the level of a meaningful life, no matter how gripped one might be by the game." (Todd May, The New York Times)
But one thing absolutely grated on me, enough so that it is the final, undeniable impulse to write today's blog post.
"...with a focus on delighting the customer through continuous innovation..."
Now, as a customer, I am not bothered by innovation. But Newer does not make Better. And companies that are working to engage their employees in new and innovative ways, as well as their customers, are all very well. But a 'new look' does not offer anything newer than looks, and for people who have been participating for a while, a 'new look' is a 'can't find anything anymore' problem. Which I hate.
Some of this stuff is not mere economics, and I do not want anyone to be hurt when I suggest that delighting (or confusing) the customer may have a financial bottom line.
Harvard professor Jennifer Lerner (of the Harvard Decision Science Lab) says that anger makes people optimistic and risk-seeking. (Fear has the opposite effect.) Sadness will make you eager to buy!
Does continuous innovation stimulate anger and sadness? Are we entering some post-celebratory period of consumerism where nostalgia drives impulse buying? Or did that ship already sail when the home shopping network came to cable TV in the US in 1985?
The difference between what we are like and what we THINK we are like is an interesting question, one I have been considering with some seriousness as I shape up my prospects. The difference between what we like and what we think we like is pretty much the same question. Or is it?
04 November, 2011
Grace, and long live ambiguity!
I thought it was 8 or nine days since I last updated, but I was SO wrong! It was almost/over two weeks ago! I am not going to to the math exactly, though, because I don't much care. I am very sorry if you felt neglected, loyal readers! ha ha ha.
OK, I have been up to a trip to ABQ, NM! I visited one of my many sisters there, I hadn't seen her for over a year, and my mother came too. It was a lovely visit. Every place in Albuquerque wants to sell you seafood though, which seems a little odd as it doesn't have a lot of shrimp or fish bays or streams or whatever, as far as I can tell. Coming from a coastal region, I was constantly tempted by the seafood in ABQ, NM. It was not a big mistake, but I should have known better.
They have a lovely aquarium, except for the fact that I feel like the turtles or tortoises they had inside the big tank were, in some way, suffering. Kind of like Orangutangs at the zoo, kind of low-spirited. And the tank seemed overcrowded. And busy, except for the turtles, who were trying to hide, and failing.
There were beautiful jellyfish in another couple of tanks, and I never worry about how jellyfish are feeling, so they were much more soothing.
It was SO DRY there, I could not stand to be outside the house with some sort of lozenge in my mouth to keep my throat from drying up! I may be allergic to the dust. I might not have been in the right mood to travel to such an arid place, or at all, who knows.
I absolutely love the phrase, "I am in NO mood," though. Because really, what does that mean? If you're thinking about a mood, you probably have one! Maybe in between thoughts about having a mood, there is actually no mood (although that's a little bit abstract, but anyway...). But LONG before you start talking about it, there is definitely SOME mood.
I saw a Dim Sum sign less than a mile away from home! I am trying to talk a friend into trying it with me, though she has never been to dim sum, and I have some doubts about the restaurant in question, which, as far as I can tell, is called "Seafood Restaurant".
Have I mentioned that while I am peculiarly drawn to seafood while away, I don't eat that much seafood here at home? A place called "seafood" anything holds NO appeal to me... until they slap a dim sum sign out front.
Let it not be said that I am impervious to gentle persuasion.
So anyway, next to the fine aquarium in ABQ, NM, is a very fine botanical garden, which is included in the price. It was extensive, and kind of a confusing place for me, as a botanical garden. Hardly any of the plants were labeled. We cut our visit short because they were closing.
While down south I also visited the Plaza in Santa Fe, NM, via a train. It was lovely and from the train I saw a lot more rustic southwest than in ABQ, which didn't have any 'local' character that I could really discern, except for the turquoise and silver jewelry, which is lovely but not hanging from the streetlamps or anything, and not really my thing.
Oh, a lot of the construction was one-level in ABQ, and as far as I noticed there were no basements. I didn't figure out the right person to ask about these things. But I have unsatisfied curiosities that are much more pressing, that I do a lot less about.
Somehow, I will continue to cope.
OK, I have been up to a trip to ABQ, NM! I visited one of my many sisters there, I hadn't seen her for over a year, and my mother came too. It was a lovely visit. Every place in Albuquerque wants to sell you seafood though, which seems a little odd as it doesn't have a lot of shrimp or fish bays or streams or whatever, as far as I can tell. Coming from a coastal region, I was constantly tempted by the seafood in ABQ, NM. It was not a big mistake, but I should have known better.
They have a lovely aquarium, except for the fact that I feel like the turtles or tortoises they had inside the big tank were, in some way, suffering. Kind of like Orangutangs at the zoo, kind of low-spirited. And the tank seemed overcrowded. And busy, except for the turtles, who were trying to hide, and failing.
There were beautiful jellyfish in another couple of tanks, and I never worry about how jellyfish are feeling, so they were much more soothing.
It was SO DRY there, I could not stand to be outside the house with some sort of lozenge in my mouth to keep my throat from drying up! I may be allergic to the dust. I might not have been in the right mood to travel to such an arid place, or at all, who knows.
I absolutely love the phrase, "I am in NO mood," though. Because really, what does that mean? If you're thinking about a mood, you probably have one! Maybe in between thoughts about having a mood, there is actually no mood (although that's a little bit abstract, but anyway...). But LONG before you start talking about it, there is definitely SOME mood.
I saw a Dim Sum sign less than a mile away from home! I am trying to talk a friend into trying it with me, though she has never been to dim sum, and I have some doubts about the restaurant in question, which, as far as I can tell, is called "Seafood Restaurant".
Have I mentioned that while I am peculiarly drawn to seafood while away, I don't eat that much seafood here at home? A place called "seafood" anything holds NO appeal to me... until they slap a dim sum sign out front.
Let it not be said that I am impervious to gentle persuasion.
So anyway, next to the fine aquarium in ABQ, NM, is a very fine botanical garden, which is included in the price. It was extensive, and kind of a confusing place for me, as a botanical garden. Hardly any of the plants were labeled. We cut our visit short because they were closing.
While down south I also visited the Plaza in Santa Fe, NM, via a train. It was lovely and from the train I saw a lot more rustic southwest than in ABQ, which didn't have any 'local' character that I could really discern, except for the turquoise and silver jewelry, which is lovely but not hanging from the streetlamps or anything, and not really my thing.
Oh, a lot of the construction was one-level in ABQ, and as far as I noticed there were no basements. I didn't figure out the right person to ask about these things. But I have unsatisfied curiosities that are much more pressing, that I do a lot less about.
Somehow, I will continue to cope.
19 October, 2011
Twilight
Stephenie Meyer deserves a cupcake.
The thing about the Twilight books that most people don't get is that they are actually GREAT.
I am not trying to say well-written, although I, personally, had no complaints. I am trying to say that they are dense. And I don't mean long (though I am not complaining, I love a good long book!) I am talking about PACKED.
With budgeting advice. Social Commentary. Feminist Principles. Ethics. And advice for the lovelorn.
And she put all of this important character-shaping stuff into the magic glass slipper of paranormal boy-crazy romance. BRILLIANT!
I do not want to give you the impression that these novels are perfect. Some of that lovelorn stuff can get awfully repetitive.
As anybody who has ever actually been lovelorn knows.
And I had a lot of trouble, at first, getting what the appeal of Edward was. I thought it might have something to do with Edward, and handsome though he may be, that ice cold chiseled marble description always kind of gave me the creeps. Beautiful, emotionally intense or remote BFs are SO 1997.
But I finally realized that the point is this: the heart wants what it wants.
The relationship between Bella and Edward was a little easier for me to understand. "I don't want to hurt you!" "I don't want 'you hurting me' to hurt you!". It kind of sounds totally dysfunctional. It kind of was. And, as a semi-professional worrier, I can easily imagine having those worries. If, say, I was hopelessly attracted to somebody who literally wanted to suck my blood.
It's kind of fun to recast visceral desire as literal hunger. It's not like any of us say: "I was kind of thinking about getting a bite to eat and Whoops! accidentally kissed somebody." It's kind of funny. A new desire is added to the demands of the flesh, and it's kind of hard to figure it out. Without, say, practice.
And Bella has, as far as I can tell, none. But she still knows.
What I love about Bella is that she ALWAYS knows what she wants. And she really cares about the people in her life, so much so that she doesn't want to bum anybody out because she exists. Not even her own parents!
That's actually one of the things I hate about Bella, but as that's a much shorter list, I won't go through it. I will just say that Bella's lack of self-interest is pretty abnormal for a girl her age, and it's kind of refreshing. And it's kind of nice that she constructed her life very carefully so as not to be too much of a burden on her parents.
This lack of self-interest as it applies to her personal life is a little more problematic, but they all seem to work it out in the end.
And I haven't even gotten to the sequels! Which is a shame, but I ran out of words about 20 words back, and these few are just a brief postprandial treat. Enjoy!
The thing about the Twilight books that most people don't get is that they are actually GREAT.
I am not trying to say well-written, although I, personally, had no complaints. I am trying to say that they are dense. And I don't mean long (though I am not complaining, I love a good long book!) I am talking about PACKED.
With budgeting advice. Social Commentary. Feminist Principles. Ethics. And advice for the lovelorn.
And she put all of this important character-shaping stuff into the magic glass slipper of paranormal boy-crazy romance. BRILLIANT!
I do not want to give you the impression that these novels are perfect. Some of that lovelorn stuff can get awfully repetitive.
As anybody who has ever actually been lovelorn knows.
And I had a lot of trouble, at first, getting what the appeal of Edward was. I thought it might have something to do with Edward, and handsome though he may be, that ice cold chiseled marble description always kind of gave me the creeps. Beautiful, emotionally intense or remote BFs are SO 1997.
But I finally realized that the point is this: the heart wants what it wants.
The relationship between Bella and Edward was a little easier for me to understand. "I don't want to hurt you!" "I don't want 'you hurting me' to hurt you!". It kind of sounds totally dysfunctional. It kind of was. And, as a semi-professional worrier, I can easily imagine having those worries. If, say, I was hopelessly attracted to somebody who literally wanted to suck my blood.
It's kind of fun to recast visceral desire as literal hunger. It's not like any of us say: "I was kind of thinking about getting a bite to eat and Whoops! accidentally kissed somebody." It's kind of funny. A new desire is added to the demands of the flesh, and it's kind of hard to figure it out. Without, say, practice.
And Bella has, as far as I can tell, none. But she still knows.
What I love about Bella is that she ALWAYS knows what she wants. And she really cares about the people in her life, so much so that she doesn't want to bum anybody out because she exists. Not even her own parents!
That's actually one of the things I hate about Bella, but as that's a much shorter list, I won't go through it. I will just say that Bella's lack of self-interest is pretty abnormal for a girl her age, and it's kind of refreshing. And it's kind of nice that she constructed her life very carefully so as not to be too much of a burden on her parents.
This lack of self-interest as it applies to her personal life is a little more problematic, but they all seem to work it out in the end.
And I haven't even gotten to the sequels! Which is a shame, but I ran out of words about 20 words back, and these few are just a brief postprandial treat. Enjoy!
18 October, 2011
pixie hair, reo speedwagon, and quantum locking
Today I plan to go get another haircut. I had one last month, but I thought I'd like to explore a medium-length hair a little bit longer. I did, but I'm over it now.
Usually I only go cut off all my hair as some sort of unconscious grieving process. This process includes the strong and unambiguous feeling that I HATE MY HAIR. ahem.
I don't feel this quite as emphatically right now, but it has to go, so maybe I no longer need to rationalize the separation of head and hair as a 'story' about why I am cutting my hair.
I am going to ask for a pixie cut. From the butchers down at the beauty school about a mile away from my house. Pray for me. They gave me a terrible short hair cut last year that a couple of friends tidied up. Plus, I don't know what they call the kind of implements they used before, but those exaggerated pinking shears are not getting anywhere near my head this time. Hair cuts should not pull hair!
REO Speedwagon is a band that I know hardly anything about. Not exactly before my time, but long before I cared about music. But they've kind of been in the background of my musical environment, I guess, seeping into my brain. And now they have fully permeated my gray matter, and every other song that I start humming is one of their hits.
I will not list them. They're ok, but while I am obviously moved, I am in no mood for it.
I'm trying, now, to figure out if they released any songs I do not know well enough to sing along to. But I've forgotten what I started fighting for. Argh!
They probably deserve a cupcake!
And this morning I saw the beginning of a video on quantum locking, which basically translates as frigid superconducting levitation:
It's pretty cool, and already immensely popular. Yay science!
Usually I only go cut off all my hair as some sort of unconscious grieving process. This process includes the strong and unambiguous feeling that I HATE MY HAIR. ahem.
I don't feel this quite as emphatically right now, but it has to go, so maybe I no longer need to rationalize the separation of head and hair as a 'story' about why I am cutting my hair.
I am going to ask for a pixie cut. From the butchers down at the beauty school about a mile away from my house. Pray for me. They gave me a terrible short hair cut last year that a couple of friends tidied up. Plus, I don't know what they call the kind of implements they used before, but those exaggerated pinking shears are not getting anywhere near my head this time. Hair cuts should not pull hair!
REO Speedwagon is a band that I know hardly anything about. Not exactly before my time, but long before I cared about music. But they've kind of been in the background of my musical environment, I guess, seeping into my brain. And now they have fully permeated my gray matter, and every other song that I start humming is one of their hits.
I will not list them. They're ok, but while I am obviously moved, I am in no mood for it.
I'm trying, now, to figure out if they released any songs I do not know well enough to sing along to. But I've forgotten what I started fighting for. Argh!
They probably deserve a cupcake!
And this morning I saw the beginning of a video on quantum locking, which basically translates as frigid superconducting levitation:
It's pretty cool, and already immensely popular. Yay science!
17 October, 2011
The writing is on the wall
Lately, in my spiritual quest to quiet my inner voices, I have been trying to balance them out with a little more attention paid to what is going on outside my head.
Obviously, I have the internet, and that is technically outside my head, but everything I see goes right into my head, and it might be getting a wee bit crowded in there.
And as an aside, being diagnosed with a mental problem is not as stressful as you might think! On the one hand, all your concerns are legitimate. Yay! On the other hand, you have a lot of concerns. ugh.
Speaking of legitimacy, I feel like I got to race through the steps of working through being diagnosed in record time because I was once informed that I was the victim of a conspiracy of kindness. My 2nd ex-step dad cornered me one day while I was eating lunch on my summer break in a local cafe, the Last Exit on Brooklyn. I was 14 or 15.
The day started out so promising, and I was actually feeling very self-satisfied. I think because I ordered a salad? I didn't usually eat real food there, just bread and butter (oh the healthy honey bran loaf, how I mistrust your label. I invite you to betray me again!) or chocolate sundaes.
And I usually didn't go there alone.
He had a theory. My 'real' father was not my mother's husband at the time of my birth, but no, another man (also now deceased). Talk about a bummer! This kind of 'revelation', accurate or not, is very disruptive to your world-view.
All the other parties, when questioned (separately) agreed that the official story contained all the facts of the matter. And, frankly, in the subtext I learned far more about all three of them than I EVER WANTED TO. But I believed them. Mostly.
And who cares? I am here because some people made the ultimate sacrifice for evolution, and if wasn't my mom and her husband, I am willing to be grateful for the contribution of persons known or unknown.
My understanding of what other people do, and why, was immeasurably enhanced that day. I didn't want to hear it all, and as I am pretty much an untrusting soul, I decided that a) I didn't much care about facts, b)I couldn't see what difference it would make in the future, given that everybody BUT my ex-step dad #2 had their stories straight, and c) I can't put the worms back in the can.
I was somebody's daughter before my lunch, and I was somebody's daughter after my lunch, and no matter who that somebody might, biologically, be, I am always GOING to be me.
So getting diagnosed replayed all those reactions of hurt, self-doubt, disappointment, acceptance, and in record time. It might not even be the right diagnosis, but I like my doctor and if I can't fix what's broken, maybe she can help.
But back to what's going on OUTSIDE my head. I try to remember the phrase 'live in the moment', because I can worry ahead all the way through the rest of my life, and hardly any of my worries have ever become a problem. And not because I prevented them, but because I was worrying about hypothetical, not actual scenarios. My bad.
And, in the moment, if I remember to go outside, I see a lot of birds and dogs lately. The birds do their bird thing, away from me, but occasionally seem to be trying to get my attention. If I become lost in thought. Since I am trying to live in the moment, I start paying attention, though I do not for one moment believe that birds care if I pay attention to them.
Dogs, on the other hand, adore me. They seem to be way more friendly for a couple of months. I don't quite get what's going on there, maybe I am more friendly now that I am saying, in my head, "live in the moment"? Maybe when I am living in the moment I look more relaxed and approachable, instead of uptight and anxious?
Frankly, I am beginning to think that EVERYONE knew I was uptight and anxious, except me! But I did spend a certain amount of effort pretending to be self-confident and trying to relax, so I also can not blame them if they were fooled. Heck, I was fooled too!
And I digress.
What I want to get to is the part where I say: The writing is on the wall.
And I mean that literally!
I was riding a bus and just after it went past a beautiful pond with turtle statues (no water, but the tiles were blue), I saw a slogan postered or painted, officially or unofficially on a wall down the street:
It was really uplifting, that day, a couple of weeks ago. I felt so strongly about it that I whipped out my notebook, which I take with me almost everywhere, and I wrote it down, along with a few other notes.
I don't usually write in my notebook on the bus. I like to pretend I'm way more normal than that, plus it's not that smooth a ride and my handwriting gets jittery.
At any rate, that public art was a quote from the 1968 student riots in Paris.
And on my way out of Tacoma, a few days before, I noticed an officially inspirational quote, painted on the bus station wall:
The City of Tacoma transit authority is certainly not afraid of the people! Or The Man... it becomes a little confusing when official art seems revolutionary.
And the last two quotes I did not find out in the world while I was trying to live in the moment, but I'll make up beautiful placards for them as well.
The ambiguity in this quote makes me week in the knees. Is it an endorsement of conservative values (not that I have anything against that), or a criticism of... I'm not sure what?
And the other:
I think I found this quote on a poster for one Awesome project (theater) while looking for another (philanthropy). It makes me numb in a good way.
Maintenance is progress. But it is not ambitious.
Obviously, I have the internet, and that is technically outside my head, but everything I see goes right into my head, and it might be getting a wee bit crowded in there.
And as an aside, being diagnosed with a mental problem is not as stressful as you might think! On the one hand, all your concerns are legitimate. Yay! On the other hand, you have a lot of concerns. ugh.
Speaking of legitimacy, I feel like I got to race through the steps of working through being diagnosed in record time because I was once informed that I was the victim of a conspiracy of kindness. My 2nd ex-step dad cornered me one day while I was eating lunch on my summer break in a local cafe, the Last Exit on Brooklyn. I was 14 or 15.
The day started out so promising, and I was actually feeling very self-satisfied. I think because I ordered a salad? I didn't usually eat real food there, just bread and butter (oh the healthy honey bran loaf, how I mistrust your label. I invite you to betray me again!) or chocolate sundaes.
And I usually didn't go there alone.
He had a theory. My 'real' father was not my mother's husband at the time of my birth, but no, another man (also now deceased). Talk about a bummer! This kind of 'revelation', accurate or not, is very disruptive to your world-view.
All the other parties, when questioned (separately) agreed that the official story contained all the facts of the matter. And, frankly, in the subtext I learned far more about all three of them than I EVER WANTED TO. But I believed them. Mostly.
And who cares? I am here because some people made the ultimate sacrifice for evolution, and if wasn't my mom and her husband, I am willing to be grateful for the contribution of persons known or unknown.
My understanding of what other people do, and why, was immeasurably enhanced that day. I didn't want to hear it all, and as I am pretty much an untrusting soul, I decided that a) I didn't much care about facts, b)I couldn't see what difference it would make in the future, given that everybody BUT my ex-step dad #2 had their stories straight, and c) I can't put the worms back in the can.
I was somebody's daughter before my lunch, and I was somebody's daughter after my lunch, and no matter who that somebody might, biologically, be, I am always GOING to be me.
So getting diagnosed replayed all those reactions of hurt, self-doubt, disappointment, acceptance, and in record time. It might not even be the right diagnosis, but I like my doctor and if I can't fix what's broken, maybe she can help.
But back to what's going on OUTSIDE my head. I try to remember the phrase 'live in the moment', because I can worry ahead all the way through the rest of my life, and hardly any of my worries have ever become a problem. And not because I prevented them, but because I was worrying about hypothetical, not actual scenarios. My bad.
And, in the moment, if I remember to go outside, I see a lot of birds and dogs lately. The birds do their bird thing, away from me, but occasionally seem to be trying to get my attention. If I become lost in thought. Since I am trying to live in the moment, I start paying attention, though I do not for one moment believe that birds care if I pay attention to them.
Dogs, on the other hand, adore me. They seem to be way more friendly for a couple of months. I don't quite get what's going on there, maybe I am more friendly now that I am saying, in my head, "live in the moment"? Maybe when I am living in the moment I look more relaxed and approachable, instead of uptight and anxious?
Frankly, I am beginning to think that EVERYONE knew I was uptight and anxious, except me! But I did spend a certain amount of effort pretending to be self-confident and trying to relax, so I also can not blame them if they were fooled. Heck, I was fooled too!
And I digress.
What I want to get to is the part where I say: The writing is on the wall.
And I mean that literally!
I was riding a bus and just after it went past a beautiful pond with turtle statues (no water, but the tiles were blue), I saw a slogan postered or painted, officially or unofficially on a wall down the street:
It was really uplifting, that day, a couple of weeks ago. I felt so strongly about it that I whipped out my notebook, which I take with me almost everywhere, and I wrote it down, along with a few other notes.
I don't usually write in my notebook on the bus. I like to pretend I'm way more normal than that, plus it's not that smooth a ride and my handwriting gets jittery.
At any rate, that public art was a quote from the 1968 student riots in Paris.
And on my way out of Tacoma, a few days before, I noticed an officially inspirational quote, painted on the bus station wall:
The City of Tacoma transit authority is certainly not afraid of the people! Or The Man... it becomes a little confusing when official art seems revolutionary.
And the last two quotes I did not find out in the world while I was trying to live in the moment, but I'll make up beautiful placards for them as well.
The ambiguity in this quote makes me week in the knees. Is it an endorsement of conservative values (not that I have anything against that), or a criticism of... I'm not sure what?
And the other:
I think I found this quote on a poster for one Awesome project (theater) while looking for another (philanthropy). It makes me numb in a good way.
Maintenance is progress. But it is not ambitious.
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